#i was going through my worst depressive episode so far and these guys helped me SO MUCH

[phobiacoms]

I just... love them a lot.

[bellysoupset]

i’d actually requested this a while ago, and iirc it didn’t really fit with the timeline back then? when luke and vince weren’t talking.

i’d asked for a fic where lucas and vin watch leo take care of jon during a vertigo episode. like maybe they’re at jon and leo’s place and leo isn’t back from work yet when jonah gets hit with an episode. and both of them are lowkey freaking out. and leo comes in and takes over effortlessly and manages to calm jonah down so much better than either of them did

but if you’d not written this for some other reason then please feel free to ignore it! 🍄

This is probably my favorite fic so far. Maybe. Possibly. It's also long.

------------------------

“Hey, Monacelli,” Vince raised his head and saw Max tapping lightly on the half open door of his classroom. It was halfway through the day and Vince’s classes were already over. From what he had glanced at the overall teachers’ schedule, Daniels still had two more classes to teach, but Vince could go home… But that just seemed a little depressive. 

His parents were busy and his sisters were in class, so going home just meant being alone and he’d much rather stay in school and finish going over the kids’ papers. 

“Yeah?” Vince lowered his red pen and the blonde man pointed over his shoulder, to the sunny patio behind him. 

“Your boyfriend’s here,” Max said in a smug tone and Vince’s blood immediately boiled over. 

He could count in one hand the amount of transphobic shit he had witnessed with Wendy, but Vince wasn’t stupid. He was aware Doveport was fairly conservative and had been bracing for a bigoted comment for a while now.

“I don’t have a boyfriend, you asshole, I have a girlfriend,” he said sharply, dropping the pen immediately and Max jumped back, startled. 

“Uhm, okay, sorry for assuming? But there’s some guy in the parking lot waiting for you,” he shrugged, seeming offended, “geez,” the blonde turned around with an exasperated eye roll and power walked away, leaving a befuddled Vince behind. 

Vin grimaced, realizing he had assumed the worst for absolutely no reason and making a mental note to apologize to the other teacher, before the reality of some dude caught up with him. Weird, but a good surprise, Vince thought, packing up his bag and locking up his classroom. 

He fully expected to find Luke in the parking lot and was not wrong, the guy was sitting on the hood of his green jeep, sunglasses on and chuckling about something. What Vince did not expect was to see Jon standing right next to him, also wearing sunglasses and a jacket, smiling. 

Hell must have frozen over, Vince thought with a smirk, watching the two laugh. It wasn’t rare to see Jonah and Lucas laughing together, even if the two wanted everyone to think they hated each other, but today they looked particularly relaxed. 

“What is going on…?” Vince asked, opening a huge smile of his own when Luke promptly jumped from the hood of the car in order to tackle him into a hug. He squeezed the guy back, half hugging Luke with one arm as they pulled apart, in order to look at Jonah, “Jon?” 

“Hi,” Jonah gave him a small wave, “so uhm- Wendy showed me your birthday gift to her and uh- I wanted - I was wondering-”

It was so weird to watch Jon fumble with his words. Vince frowned, confused, then looked at Luke for an explanation. His best friend was blushing on Jon’s behalf, with a smile so gigantic Vince could see his molars. 

“Oh my god, Jonah!” He exclaimed after a minute, “he wants to buy Leo a ring.”

It took Vince a second, but then he let go of Lucas, all but yelling “YOU’RE GONNA PROPOSE TO LEO!?” and rushing to pull Jon into a hug. 

The other man stiffened, but he had no chance to fight Vince off, nor did he even want to and he melted into the hug for a minute, muffling a chuckle and mumbling a little sheepish “yeah… And I wanted your jewelry recommendation. I really liked Wendy’s birthday present and I think Leo would have my head if I got him a Cartier.” 

“And he wants our help to pick,” Lucas completed the unspoken truth and Jonah glared at him, turning a shade darker with a blush. 

“Shut up-”

“Yeah! YEah, of course, of course!” Vince interrupted the bickering, all but bouncing on his feet, his voice breaking and going up a note,  “Leo’s going to explode with happiness-”

It took Vin a moment to calm down and then yet another moment as they figured out the logistics of it all. Vince still had his motorcycle, so they decided he should just stick with it and drive ahead of them, Luke and Jon following in the jeep. 

The local jewelry shop where Vince had bought Wendy’s birthday was also owned by Italians. The old owner was a friend of Vin’s mom and he lit up as the three men walked into his store. 

“Back for more so soon, Vicenzo?” he asked in a thick italian accent, “I told you, there’s no coming back from the first diamond you get her.” 

“No,” Vince shook his head, planting his hands on Jonah’s shoulders and shaking him like a rattle toy, “today I’m here just as a helper. My friend wants to buy his man a ring.” 

“Hi, I’m Jonah,” Jonah tried to shrug Vince off, offering his hand to the owner.

“Niccolo Fanucci, it’s a pleasure.”

Luke was already inspecting the rings on display, crouching down to get a better look at them, “Leo wouldn’t want anything too flashy,” he said, tunnel vision fully on, “so what are you thinking? Yellow, silver? Tungsten?” 

Jonah wrinkled his nose, “tungsten?” he scoffed, “I’m not buying my fiance a tungsten ring.” 

“What’s wrong with them?” Vince frowned, completely out of his depth. Buying Wendy her birthday gift had taken him hours and he still wasn’t convinced he had done a good job. Probably had, Jonah wouldn’t be there if he didn’t think the quality and design were good enough. 

“Tungsten is extremely durable, almost impossible to scratch-” Luke shrugged and Jonah glared at him. 

“And cheap,” he said sharply, “I want a real ring for Leo.”

“How real?” Vince raised his eyebrows, noticing Niccolo — the owner — visibly perk up as it became clear Jon was down for purchasing the whole store if needed. 

“The best. I want a diamond. Or a bunch,” Jonah leaned over the display, as Niccolo hurried to get his best stuff out of the safe, as well as his design magazines. 

“You want personalized, son?” the man asked and Jon shook his head. 

“No time, I want to propose before his birthday,” he explained, “and that’s next month.”

“We could design something in time,” the man shrugged, opening the bunch of magazines, “how’s this boy of yours? Flashy? Shy?”

“Shy,” Luke got up from his crouched down position, “Leo would rather die than walk around with a huge sparkly ring, Jon, you know that.”

Jonah pouted, “but I want it to be a wedding ring,” he stressed, “I want everyone to know he’s married from across the court.”

“Lawyer?” Niccolo raised an eyebrow, shutting his magazine and throwing it to the side, opening a much older one, “is he traditional?” 

“More or less…” Jonah shook his head, while Vince interrupted him, nodding. 

“Yes,” he flicked at Jon’s ear, “he’s shy and not flashy at all. He also doesn’t wear jewelry, so it has to be comfy.”

“It has to be yellow,” Jon didn’t argue with Vince, despite grimacing. 

Luke frowned, “he’s blonde and super pasty, white gold would look prettier-”

“I want yellow gold, I want it to be clear it’s a wedding band.” 

“Don’t be silly,” Niccolo shook his head, “it can be white gold or platinum and still look like a wedding band.”

“He’s in a straight dominated field where men wear rings, if he has a silver band people will assume it's just some ring,” Jonah groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, “this is pretty.”

“Absolutely not,” Vince and Luke chorused, looking at the yellow band Jon was pointing at, with three baguette diamonds in the peak. 

“Alright, so yellow gold,” Niccolo flipped through the pages, “and not flashy, but flashy enough people know.”

“It has to be something he likes,” Jonah sighed, studying the rings, “he’s gonna wear it until he dies, so.”

Luke let out a snort, “or not,” he mumbled, only to immediately recoil and jump back as Jon turned to face him like a snake, “because he might get a new one!” he exclaimed, hands raised as if his friend was gonna hit him, “relax!” 

“Shut up, you don’t know Leo enough. What do you think, Vin?” Jonah turned away from Luke and Vince grinned, noticing the other man pout behind Jon. 

“I think I agree with you about the yellow,” he shrugged, “but the diamonds are a bit much, man. Let’s focus on how thick it is, how about?” 

Jonah didn’t know it could take so long to pick a ring. He had expected it would take more than a couple of minutes, after all he was a perfectionist and not willing to compromise in this matter, but at every little thing he said, Luke and Vince had twenty different arguments. 

Finally, after about two hours of back and forth, they settled on a yellow gold ring, with a brushed finish instead of smooth polish and with a baguette small diamond sitting in the middle of it. 

“Now you need to pick the thickness,” Niccolo said, “wait a minute while I get my kit. Sit around, Vincenzo knows where the coffee is. Have a torrone.”

Jonah snorted quietly to himself, he had never been to a jewelry shop that offered a torrone or any type of sticky, sweet food. But then again he had never been in a locally owned shop. 

He walked outside, hearing as Vince and Luke bickered over the gem cut — Vince still thought the pear one was prettier, Luke was team no gem and partial to some design fussiness on the band — and then pressed his forehead to the brick wall outside the store and picked out his phone. 

There wasn’t a text from Leo, they had last spoken that morning, when Jonah had lied through his teeth that he had a surgery to watch that evening and so they couldn’t have lunch together. 

Jonah rolled his shoulders, letting out a breath. He felt stiff all over from stress, the huge weight of picking something that could make or break his proposal making him sweat. He felt nauseous too, but in all truth he had been feeling sick to his stomach with nerves ever since Leo got his promotion and Jon made up his mind about proposing. 

That had always been his plan, after all. Wait until his boyfriend got the promotion that would put them on equal pay, so Leo wouldn’t have a breakdown over wedding prices or feeling like he was being given anything when Jackie inevitably tried to hijack the bill…

“You okay?” Luke planted a hand on his elbow. 

Lucas was almost levitating with how happy he was. It was like he was the one getting married, the dude simply didn’t seem able to stop smiling, even now looking a little concerned and holding a paper cup of coffee. 

“Yeah,” Jonah wiped the sweat off and straightened up, “Niccolo is back?”

“Yep, we’re just waiting for you,” Luke chugged the rest of the coffee that his hyper ass definitely didn’t need and squeezed Jon’s bicep in a cuteness aggression fit, shoving him further inside the store. 

The old owner was holding a large hoop, with a bunch of silver rings on it. Upon Jonah arriving, he opened the hoop, so he could remove the rings one by one, “you said he’s traditional and shy, but not so traditional —” the man said, barely looking up, with that certainty of someone who’s been doing their job their entire life, “and you’ll have a diamond on the band, so you need some thickness, especially if you don’t want the bling to stand out that much…” 

He carefully pushed two bands towards Jon, “try these on and tell me what you think, son.”

Jonah went to grab it, only for his hand to completely miss it. He blinked a couple times, feeling Vince grab him by the elbow.

“Jon, hey- You wanna sit down?”

“No, I’m fine,” Jon shook his head, swallowing down the heightened nausea and grabbing the ring on the left. It was too large on his hand, he had thinner pianist fingers, but the important part was the width, “looks a bit bulky… What size is the rock again?”

Niccolo grabbed a tiny piece of sticker paper and measured, cutting it out and then planting the paper in the middle of the band, “this size.”

“Yeah, no…” Jon shook his head, “not this one.”

“That’s a 5.5mm, try the 4.5mm one,” Niccolo took the ring back, once again doing the paper trick, “that’s a more old fashioned groom width.”

“I think it looks better,” Luke said, as if someone asked him, poking his head in. Jonah nodded, suddenly feeling too woozy. He darted out a hand to grab on something… Anything… Then landed on Vince’s forearm and squeezed. 

“That’s the one,” Jon determined, dead set on getting the bloody ring before vertigo took him out, “uhm- Luke, can you…?”

“Yeah, yeah, I can,” Lucas stepped in front of him, smiling to the confused old man, “I’m buying.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Jon overheard Niccolo say, but there was a ringing in his ears starting to drown everything out. He squeezed Vince’s arm, “help me outside…”

Vince helped him the couple of steps it took for them to get to the door, then he wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled Jon almost off his feet, dragging him to a bus stop bench. 

Jonah crumpled, spreading his legs and grabbing on the plastic of the bench with all his force, breathing through his mouth, “Fuck,” he sighed, cold sweat spreading down his back, “of all days…”

“I’m sorry, man,” Vince squeezed his nape, “help me here, what do I do?”

“No-nothing…” Jonah leaned forward even more, as his stomach rolled, the world turning into a complete blur. He let out a whimper, feeling like he was falling forward, except the ground never met his face, he just kept falling, falling-

“Should he be lying down!?” Vince’s voice broke through the fog, “I don’t know what to do, you’re the one who’s good with sick people!” 

“Not sick like this!” Luke’s voice answered and Jonah groaned, blindly trying to grab at Luke and shut him up.

“Ssssstop-” Jonah slurred, realizing his mouth felt super sticky and his pants humid. Oh no. Had he wet himself? 

Mortification caused Jon to open his eyes, only to realize the wet spot was just the fact he had puked the McBacon he had had with Luke on their way to Doveport all over the ground and his pants. 

The sight of the chunky brown mess caused his stomach to flip again and Jonah heaved once more, the movement ruining the sliver of balance he had regained and sending the world spinning on its axis once more. 

“ — My place?” Vince, his voice much closer now, as if he was talking in his ear. Jon let his head roll towards the sound and his cheek met something soft- Vince’s thigh? Stomach? 

“I guess!?” Lucas, sounding more than a little nervous, “should we call Leo? Wendy? Hell, your mom?!”

Jon groaned. He wanted none of these people, except maybe Wendy. He desperately wanted Leo’s comfort and the fact his boyfriend wouldn’t be freaking out like the two idiots, but that would mean telling Leo what he was doing in fucking Doveport and-

“Noo,” he slurred, his voice muffled by something, probably Vince’s shirt, “no k- no calling-” his stomach was done with his words and Jonah coughed again, as liquid rushed up his throat and world tilted completely to the left, then right-

“I’m calling Leo,” Lucas, all decisive, “there’s no way this is normal, right? I’m calling him.” 

“The fuck will Leo do if this isn’t?” Vince, sounding far away now. Jonah tried to cling to his voice and make himself responsive, but he just… Couldn’t. When he tried to open his eyes again, he realized he was in a completely different place. 

A pink room?

The black spots clumped in front of his eyes and Jonah let out a whimper, scared and humiliated, and then darkness swallowed him up.

-----------------------------

“Where is he?” Leo’s heart was hammering in his ears. He didn’t suppose anything was scarier than hearing the person you loved the most was completely down for the count, hours away. 

Luke’s call had come at the very end of his day, just as he was packing up to go home. Leo had never made it home, he picked it up on the elevator and felt his heart plummet down to his stomach. 

During the four hours of drive he had plenty of time to think, but had actually done none of that. His head was spinning, nothing made sense, but he didn’t actually give a shit about puzzling things together until he got a look on Jon, because from the way Luke described it, all panicked, it sounded like his worst case yet. 

In fucking Doveport.

He hadn’t been to Vince’s new place yet and for a second Leo felt completely out of place, standing outside of the small one bedroom apartment. Then Luke stepped out of the bedroom, the front of his shirt with a huge wet spot on it and looking visibly worried and Leo’s confusion melted straight into worry.

“He’s here, but he’s really out of it,” Luke leaned on the doorway as Leo walked past him, storming into Vince’s bedroom. 

Jonah was a sight to behold. His six foot tall boyfriend was curled up on his side, almost in a fetal position and looking terribly tiny.

“God, Jon…” Leo walked closer, sitting on the bed and touching the other man’s naked shoulder. Luke and Vince had stripped him down to just his boxers, but he had no fever, in fact he felt cold and clammy to the touch, “why did you dumbasses remove his clothes?”

“Uhm- He kinda, hurled all over ‘em?” Vince scratched at his cheeks, seeming embarrassed, “we didn’t know what to do, once we got them off every time we tried to move him to get him dressed he just seemed to get worse…”

“Great, that’s just fucking great,” Leo scoffed, scooting closer and stroking Jon’s cheek, pushing his tight curls back, “did you get any water in him? When did-”

“It was around 4 PM,” Luke answered, while Vince shook his head to the previous question. 

Leo glanced at his watch. 9:26 PM. Amazing.

“Get me some water, the meds that are in my car, in the glovebox, and a straw. And an empty bowl. And a big sweater, he’s fucking freezing,” he glared at the two, before returning his gaze back to Jon, stroking his head again, “Jonah…” he whispered, leaning in, “angel, I need you to wake up.”

His boyfriend was completely out. His breath smelled sweet, causing Leo’s nose to wrinkle, and he was shivering violently. Leo smoothed a hand down his naked back, moving even closer and feeling Jonah’s steady heartbeat. 

“Hey, Jon,” he pressed his hand in, instead of shaking him, “baby, wake up.”

It took another minute of gentle pushing and calling until Jon’s eyes slipped open. He was out of it and his eyes rolled back, taking another thirty seconds to fully focus on Leo.

“Oh no,” he groaned, curling up more, “not you.”

“Yeah, me,” Leo rolled his eyes, pushing the flash of hurt he felt at Jonah’s words away and grabbing the items Luke had planted on Vince’s bedside table, “I need you to drink some water, okay?”

“Won’t stay down…” Jonah whispered, closing his eyes again, a wrinkle appearing between his eyebrows as if he was in pain, “Leo, I don’t feel well…”

“I know, angel, I know,” Leo’s heart squeezed in sympathy and he leaned in, planting a kiss on his boyfriend’s brow, “trust me here, okay?” he squeezed Jon’s arm, before turning slightly around in order to dissolve the little pink pill that was supposed to help with the vertigo episodes in the glass of water. 

Technically speaking, Leo was aware he shouldn’t do this. Wendy had scolded him once about it… But so far it worked like a charm every time and Leo was not about to listen to Wendy when the matter was Jon. 

“Okay, just a tiny sip,” he held the straw between his fingers, pushing it in Jonah’s mouth and grabbing the man’s pillow in order to tilt his body up just enough he could swallow without choking, “just one, baby.”

It took some prodding, but eventually Jonah took what Leo counted as a fourth of the water. He glanced at his watch again. 09:41 PM. 

“Try to keep this down and we’ll try the rest in a bit,” Leo whispered, draping Vince’s older sweater around Jonah’s naked shoulders and continuing to pet his hair. 

Luke entered the room, every bit like a dog with his tail between his legs, “is he okay…?”

“He will be,” Leo rolled his tense shoulders, then turned his head until his jaw clicked, holding all the tension on his mouth, “what the fuck is he doing in Doveport?”

Luke and Vince exchanged a look, then they both shrugged.

Leo squinted at them, “well?”

“I called him,” Vince said, his whole face turning red, “I called them both, I’m sorry, I just- I was having a bit of a breakdown over Wendy and Jonah just came over to say I’m stupid and-”

“And he brought Luke?” Leo didn’t buy this for a second, but most importantly, the fact Vince was lying to his face only made him feel more furious, “okay.”

“He did! Because he knows I’m the only one who can get through Vince!” Luke sounded so smug about the lie, Leo stared at him, unimpressed. He let his eyes drift away from the dark haired men, looking around the room. 

Jonah’s clothes were folded on top of Vince’s little office table, alongside other papers and all sorts of school items, like stickers and scissors. One of Vin’s bedroom walls was painted dusty pink. 

“You called Jonah first?” Leo asked, feeling his blood turn to ice in his veins, as Vince nodded enthusiastically. 

“I mean, it was about Wendy,” he said, as if that explained everything. Leo nodded, looking over his shoulder. Outside the window he could see Luke’s green jeep parked all crooked in front of the place.

“Yeah, of course,” he agreed through his teeth, turning mechanically and grabbing the glass of water, “Jon, let’s try another sip, baby.”

It took nearly one hour to have Jon fully draining the glass and by then Leo was in full automatic pilot. If he thought too much about the lies, then his thoughts turned a dark, spiraling path that he didn’t enjoy and he didn’t want to indulge. 

Because lies or no lies, he knew Jonah would never do any of the things his brain kept sprouting up. Break up with him. Cheat. 

“I’m fine,” Leo overheard Luke say across the house, as Vince ordered all of them food from the living couch, “no, Bell, I’m really fine, I promise. I’m with Vin, Leo and Jon.”

Leo gulped down the knot in his throat and glanced down, to Jonah napping near his thigh, still all curled up. At least now he had quit shivering violently and none of the medicine had made it back up, so it was well into his bloodstream. 

They were out of the woods, as soon as Jon woke up he’d feed him another round of meds and then- 

“Leo?” Jonah whispered, curling up even more and pressing his forehead to the blonde’s knee, “Leo?”

“Hey,” Leo leaned in, folding in half and forcing his voice past the lump in his throat, “I’m here.”

“Uhm,” Jon let out a little pleased noise, then opened his eyes, “I wanna go home.”

“In a little bit,” Leo kissed his cheek, squeezing his arm, “let’s try sitting up first, okay? It’s a long trip, you really don’t wanna be in the car in case you’re not feeling your best-”

“Leo,” Jonah frowned at him, pushing himself up and letting out a moan, getting a gray cast as he paled, “what’s wrong?”

“My boyfriend is sick?” Leo rolled his eyes, trying to keep the bitterness from his voice, “how’s sitting up?”

“It’s fine,” Jonah raised a shaky hand to his face, rubbing the sleep off his eyes, “I wanna go home.”

“We’re leaving in a bit,” Leo said more firmly, pushing back and collecting his dignity. He felt terrible, equal parts worried and furious and intrigued and terrified – “drink some water, will you?”

Jonah obeyed, frowning, but he was right. He really was as fine as he was going to get so soon, even if weak and shaky, clearly nauseous still. 

Leo managed to keep him down for another one hour and a half, but by the time midnight rolled on — Vince flipping through the TV channels clearly trying to be a decent host, while Lucas had passed out on the floor next to the couch, his head tipped back as he snored —, Jonah glared at him and said in a firm voice, “I wanna sleep in my bed. Can we please go home?”

Leo nodded, rubbing his eyes and trying to feel a little less sleepy himself. He wasn’t so sure he could drive, but he was feeling too proud to admit to that. 

 “Are you sure?” Vince yawned, stumbling up as he saw Leo helping Jonah put on his clothes – they had already been washed and dried long before, “you can stay the night, guys, take my bed and I’ll take the couch and-”

“No, we’re leaving,” Jonah shook his head, holding tightly on the wall to stay upright, “thank you, for everything, but no.”

Vin didn’t look one bit pleased, “this is a horrible idea, it's super late... Leo tell him it’s a horrible idea-”

“We’re going,” Leo couldn’t feel a shred of sympathy for Vince. He was trying, but failing miserably. Now that Jonah was up and stubborn as ever, concern was quickly getting replaced with simple, unmitigated fury. 

“Please call me when you get there,” Vince hung at the door, “please? I’m gonna be up.”

“We’ll call,” Jonah agreed, stumbling to Leo’s car and bracing against it, breathing through his mouth. For a split second Leo considered staying, ignoring Jon’s stubbornness and his own pride and the anger and fear bubbling at the pit of his stomach and just stay and think all of this through in the morning- 

“Goodnight guys,” Vince said in a small voice and Jonah waved, opening a little secret smile to the guy and Leo’s second thoughts burst like a bubble. 

They needed to head home and only then he’d be able to think things through clearly.

Leo’s fingers drummed nervously on the steering wheel as they hit the road, Jon curling up against the window and watching the cars zoom past them. Headlights turning into lines of yellow and white and red.

“Why were you there?” Leo asked, one hour into the trip, when he could no longer hold it in. He turned up the heater, just a bit, noticing Jon was trembling again.

His boyfriend shrugged, but didn’t say anything, and Leo squeezed the steering wheel with a bit more force. 

“Jonah,” he said, his voice dropping, “I need you to talk with me, because I’m freaking out-”

“I can’t tell you,” Jonah’s voice was shot, “I can’t, okay? You just have to trust me-” 

“You already lied to me today, so cut the crap and tell me what were you doing in Doveport and not in surgery like you said-”

“Vince told you!” Jon exclaimed and Leo looked away from the road, his eyes wide in complete shock and anger. 

“You mean the lie he told me!? Do you think I’m stupid?!” Leo forced himself to look ahead, “Vince cannot lie to save his life and you want me-”

“It wasn’t a-”

“He called you first, but it was Luke’s jeep outside, not your car. In his story, you picked up Luke,” Leo hissed, starting to see red, “you lied to my face this morning, Jonah, so this was not some random, panicked call you got in the middle of your day. This was premeditated and-”

“Can’t you just please trust me?” Jonah glared at him, “Leo, what reason do you have not to trust me-”

“The fact that you’re LYING!?” Leo exclaimed, pulling the car to the dust shoulder and causing Jon to let out a whine at the sudden motion. He couldn’t drive like this, barely paying the road any attention. 

Jon was breathing through the dizziness when Leo turned to him, panting as he tried to keep his emotions at bay, “Jon, just be honest with me-”

“Please, please just drop it. It’s nothing bad-”

“Are you cheating on me?” Leo said without thinking and felt pathetic as he heard the words said out loud. He knew this wasn’t it, he knew it deep in his bones that whatever Jonah did, it would never be that. 

It didn’t stop the intrusive thought from continuously sprouting up.

Jonah’s head snapped and he glared at Leo, all vulnerability slipping away for a second and being replaced with anger, “oh my god, listen to yourself, Leo! You really think, I- God, you’re being fucking- You’re ruining everything,” he pushed the passenger door open and pushed himself out, causing Leo to jump out of the car as well. 

“I don’t know what to think! You’ve been acting weird for days and now you’re lying to me and your little buddies are all helping in the lie and I’m here, fucking nursing you-” 

“I DIDN’T FUCKING ASK YOU TO COME!” Jon yelled, hitting the car with a hand and Leo jumped at the explosion, his eyes wide and his heart speeding up, only to suddenly stop as Jonah’s shoulders shook and he folded in, grabbing on the top of the car with both hands and letting his head hang. 

Leo took a second, trying to make any sense of the scene in front of him, but then his body was moving before his mind caught up. Grabbing Jon by the shoulder, feeling his whole frame shake with sobs. 

“Jon- Shit, shit, shit, Jonah I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Leo mumbled frantically, his thoughts clearing up due to the searing certainty he had just messed up severely, “I didn’t mean to hurt you, baby, shit-” he cupped Jonah’s face and tried to wipe away the tears, only for the other man to shove his hands away. 

“Stop- Stop fucking t-touching me-” Jonah groaned, stumbling and falling sit on the passenger side, his legs still out of the car, covering his face with his hands as he continued to cry, “I can’t be-believe you think I- I would never- I-”

“No, I know, I know,” Leo sunk to his knees, mind reeling as he ignored Jon’s plea to stop touching him and grabbed his boyfriend’s wrist, “Jon, I’m so sorry, I’m an ass, I know you wouldn’t-”

Jonah’s whole frame shook with a sob and he angrily shoved Leo back, but in his movement the blonde got a decent look at his face and his heart broke in a billion pieces. Jonah looked genuinely hurt, tears streaming down his face and clinging to his chin, green eyes all red due to the crying-

“I’m so sorry,” Leo leaned in, pressing his forehead to Jonah’s and cupping his face, “baby, please stop crying-”

“I- I was-was,” Jonah pulled back, angrily wiping the tears and Leo let out a whine at the loss of contact. 

“I don’t wanna know,” he cut him off, “you’ll tell me later, a- another day,” Leo forced himself to say, “it’s fine, I don’t wanna-”

“I was buying your fucking proposal ring,” Jonah spat, glaring at him, his voice raspy, “and now you ruined it.”

Leo’s ears rang and he fell back on his ass in the humid grass, feeling like suddenly he was the one who had vertigo. He opened and closed his mouth, then felt tears springing up, “my proposal ring?” the question didn’t even sound like his voice.

Jonah scoffed, nodding, “yeah. You jackass, your proposal ring. Happy now? I was gonna propose at your birthday and they were just helping me and now you fucking ruined it and-”

“Yes,” Leo answered, without thinking and causing Jon’s mouth to snap shut, then open again, then shut in a tight line.

“No,” he glared at the blonde, “I’m not-”

“I’ll ask then,” Leo rolled his eyes, moving forward so he was resting on just one knee in front of the car door, “you can’t un-propose, you bought me a ring, I- I’ll ask. Are you gonna say no?”

Jonah frowned, clearly stuck between the rock and the sword, because he really didn’t want to propose on the side of the road, with his head throbbing from crying and puking, still wanting to strangle Leo and feeling wounded as fuck- With the ring on the pocket of his jacket… But there was simply no world or reality where he said no to Leo asking him to marry him. 

“You can’t steal my proposal,” Jonah scoffed, grabbing the box in his pocket and grossly sniffling, wiping the tears with the back of his hand, “you’re such a dick,” he opened the box. 

“You’re a romantic,” Leo grinned, then chuckled, “I can’t see the ring, it’s too dark.”

“SEE!” Jonah exclaimed, angry, “it’s a horrible proposal and you’re the one who ruined-” he never quite finished the complaint, as Leo leaped and kissed him, pushing Jon flat on his back inside the car. 

“I don’t need to see the ring,” Leo groaned, kissing him again and again, "the answer is always yes, Jon. Ring, no ring, it's always yes.”

[inventedfangirling]

What goes on inside Pat's head in eps 6/7?

Or what happens when the brain rot takes over.

Alright so without further ado let me get into the fact that i can't believe this is the first time im seriously thinking about it but what the hell must have all been going through Pat's mind during that gap between their first kiss, their bet on the beach and even beyond that up to that post curry-feeding kiss after his dramatic re-entry as Riam?

What was all going through his head? We know he's confused and hurt and frustrated, but he also doesn't want to push too much, but he also wants to know what goes on in Pran's head real bad and then the resolution he gets is that Pran clearly seems to like him too, like a heck of a lot, and his extreme backtracking so far back they cant even have a conversation ironically goes to prove just how much Pran was going though and now they have a bet and on the other end there is a relationship....

....there is a relationship right?

We know pat is sure of his own feelings. He likes pran. He wants to be with Pran. He wholeheartedly wants to go all in. And while he knows Pran likes him back, he knows that pran isn't sure (at that point) if he wants to even go in, let alone ALL in. So then what must have been his mindset while being the goofy boy who was constantly on teasing mode?

What was behind that smiling exterior, because one thing that the usually confident Pat is insecure about is when it comes to Pran and especially given what happened after the kiss, he must have become at least a tiny bit more wary? (Not really though cos we know Pat is a simple straightforward guy, and he knows that nobody not even his Pran can kiss like THAT without feelings, a guy who goes for what he wants and often acts before he thinks but for the sake of my spiral lets pretend) So then behind that exterior what was his best case scenario? They start dating. But what was his worst case scenario cos for pran, we know he chose the worst (in terms of their relationship) way out cos that seemed like the only one until pat refused to leave without talking about it.

But Pat won't make that choice to cut off ties (why the heck would he) and now that Pran is ready for the bet, Pran wouldn't either right? But what if pran decides to call off the bet in between? He wouldn't but what if pat randomly has that thought...in some lonely/ insecure moment what if that is one of the horrifyingly depressing thought he has...what if pran likes him more than everything and even that isnt enough because he just can't bring himself to take that step somehow?

Where does that leave him? Did he even have a backup plan for what would happen if their bet didn't work out? If pran didn't come around? What was he gonna do? Were they going to ignore each other? Not talk anymore? Not play around any more? What if each time he comes to play, underneath all the mischief and fun what if there's that underlying fear of what if it's the last time?

What if it's the last time i'm in his room? What if it's the last time he offers to feed me curry? What if it's the last time I get to help him out with something? What if it's the last time he makes me dinner? What if it's the last time he comes close when i ask him to? What if it's the last time he traces hearts on my face? What if it's the last time i get to touch him? What if it's the last time he looks at me like that?

Are we even comprehending the level of angsty mess Pat could have been that whole time? But he wouldn't be the Pat we (think we) know and love. He loves and he loves loud and he isn't thinking too much beyond their competition and getting Pran comfortable enough to get into a relationship (i could write whole essays about the level of emotional intelligence Pat shows when it comes to Pran especially in episodes 6 & 7, thats not what this is about tho) BUT we all have bad days and negative doom spirals.. who is to say Pat didn't!

Of course it probably wasn't as bad or dramatic as i am making it sound like cos Pran does reciprocate and Pran is not at all attempting to hide (in the same way we see pre episode 6) his feelings for Pat or his investment in the bet but still as long as the bet was on, nothing was set in stone. And also let's not forget just how much it must have hurt when wai came to hand off Pran's guitar. Pran's guitar that Pat had saved and polished and kept safe for him. The one he ran after him, holding. The one he kept safe in his home. His one piece of Pran that he held onto those 3 long depressingly lonely years. And Pran just gave it away to Wai like that? Wai? WAI!??

Look at my poor baby sitting there all alone with his thoughts, his heart breaking little by little and even then staying silent just so that he won't create trouble for Pran. Who is gonna answer for all of that!??? huh?

* Ooh boy and here come those heart squeezes again I CANT DO THIS ARGHHHH *

And despite all that he kept a mostly cheery exterior, trying to keep it fun and light for pran as much as possible?!?

Not all undermining the fact that patpran did have a heck of a lot of fun during their bet era, several essays worth of fun and meanings to unpack but that's not the point of this post

Like i'm sorry but there is simply no better man (boyfriend). But also no cos 1. he's fictional duh, there is NO one like pat irl, he's just an impossible version of a man cos despite all his flaws he really did what he did and 2. its actually not healthy what he's doing is it? Repressing his anxieties and radiating joy, equally bad as repressing joy and radiating anxiety like pran was doing, but (argh to sweep it all under the rug the way i usually do unlike patpran who talk shit though and therefore ofc they ended up happy)...

Because of course despite their anxieties both of them knew they could trust in each other and in their feelings for each other, and yes they built that trust over the years but it also was especially given impetus during the bet era so the bet was eventually going to have only a happy outcome but human brains can be weird and can play tricks on you and i was just thinking of the possibility of a time when pat's brain may have tricked him into a whole spiral and what if the bet wasn't as fun for pat as i initially thought it was and now here we are.

[kitkatopinions]

ALrighty!

Spoilers for RWBY ep.... 8 I think? Below the keep reading as well as criticism:

So I was wrong about the Cat. I wish it had turned out to be a morally dubious good guy, but whatever, guess the writers wanted yet another 'the person guiding you is actually not trustworthy' plot.

Here's what I'm gonna say - Neo got fucking taken over and possessed the moment that she actually started getting a spotlight as a villain? HATE that shit. I want Neo, not just some conglomerate taken over by the cat? And I don't like that she talked at all. It should've just been the cat's voice.

Idk if Little is dead or not, but I really don't care about or like Little, so if they are dead, okay??? Better than having to see them again tbh.

Seeing people 'resurrected' but all wrong was kind of dissatisfying? Torchwick was the only one of them who was actually used well (because rwby is going through plotpoints at the speed of light in fourteen to sixteen minute eps so of course we can't sit with things,) but his voice acting was off and so it messed with the immersion some. I don't blame them for not being able to get an exact copycat and I don't think they tried very hard since they didn't need Roman for long, but still, I wish his voice actor had done better. The animation of him was pretty good though.

Ruby ascended? Fuck that shit! I have hope that we're actually going to get 'Ruby down in the tree realizing what 'ascension' actually is, but first off, I wanted Ruby to have a breakdown and struggle, not to be full on suicidal and decide to basically kill herself. Second of all, if this means 'no more Ruby' I am going to be so pissed off. This is Ruby's show, right? Or it's supposed to be! Even if this means that we don't get much Ruby for the next two episodes, I'm still gonna be mad. The 'development' we've gotten so far is just Ruby being in pain, and then seemingly dying? I'm trying not to count my chickens before they hatch or whatever, but this could be worst case scenario, people.

The moment where Ruby was getting attacked by everyone who was dead was... Well, first off, it was weird. Because A. Why would Neo bring in Clover, Leo, and Ozpin? Was she just bringing in everyone she thinks that Ruby may have sort of known who died? Second off, why does Neo think Penny cared about Ruby most in the world? When did she have access to that information? How did she know to use Penny that way? Third off, I liked the 'Ruby strikes out at Ozpin, only for Neo to replace him with Oscar' thing in theory but I would be wrong if I didn't point out that once again the only member of Team RWBYJNOR with dark skin gets the most violent things happening, which is a bad pattern. I get that it may be because Oscar is actually more like Ruby's friend than the rest of her team atm (which is sad,) but I just think the writers should be aware that this is a thing they do that they maybe should correct. Maybe they could've had it be Weiss or Yang that Ruby 'accidentally killed' in these visions? Just a thought. Fourth off! I liked how Neo transformed people into Ruby's alive friends and family, judging her for the 'murder.' Fifth off, I just gotta say the combat was not good for me once again. Neo literally has several people there fighting for her, and they all shot like stormtroopers? Ruby's discombobulated and depressed, so her going down without much fight isn't the problem, the problem is that Neo alone by herself should have been able to easily bring her down, let alone with her clones there to help her. Maybe she only knew Roman well enough to really replicate his style, but Neo and Roman? Tag team of the century!

On to... Team WBYJ. I'm not even gonna get into the fact that Blake and Weiss were more sympathetic to Ruby's struggles than Yang was (I am really frustrated with Yang this season,) but they all just stand there and do nothing while Ruby drinks down poison? What the hell? That is not a freaking good look, guys.

Anyway... I don't know how to feel about this episode, but I'm mostly frustrated and disappointed. And on the other hand, I guess we got good pics of Roman and Neo? I'm gonna have to wait to form a concrete opinions on this ep until we can confirm what the frick actually happened next ep, but for now, it's looking like another 3/10. I got some enjoyment, but overall a bad experience once again.

[clarktooncrossing]

Giraffe's Eye View | Spy x Family REVIEW (Kind of)

Hello there people of today and robots of tomorrow! It's me, Clark, here with another rambling collection of my opinions. When last I did this it was in regards to Komi Can't Communicate, my favorite anime that actually originates in Japan. I have since watched all of Season 2 of the show, which amplified the adorable factor with all the times Komi had full conversations with Tadano. Seriously, my heart melted knowing whenever I saw her overcome her phobia. That said, Season 2 had by far the worst moment on the show, one I saw coming thanks to the manga. While on a school trip to Kyoto, Stalker McGee (Amai Ren to the people who somehow like her) plans to gaze upon Komi's breasts when they the girls have to share a bath house together. I was already annoyed by how Agari's seemingly gigantic boobs were once again acting as the butt of the joke, so seeing Stalker salivate at the idea of touching Komi's boobs made me physically uncomfortable. Heck, considering how much of a psychotic pervert she is, I'm surprised she even asked. To top it off, the next episode has Komi interacting with two very sweet students that I wish the show would focus on more. One's a busy body named Katou Mikuni and her yo-yo loving friend is called Sasaki Ayami. They treat Komi to a fun day at totally not Universal Studios Japan, never once trying to grope their new friend. Why this series puts so much focus on Stalker McGee as apposed to any of these characters is a mystery to me, but following this episode I pretty much fast forwarded through every scene she was in. Their White Day episode took place on Friday the 13th, leading me to hope Jason Voorhees could show up and shut this creep up! No such luck.

The one time this guy doesn't wanna introduce a horny teenage idiot to his machete, unbelievable! And no, I don't actually wish horrible things upon this character, I just wish she'd go away!

Needless to say I was feeling pretty annoyed when I decided to check out another anime that had been gaining popularity ever since it started streaming on Hulu.

Every where I turn on the Internet there's clip compilations of Anya being cute or inappropriate fan art of Yor on deviantART, and of course none of my friends on Discord will shut up about this show. Being the fan of the found family trope myself, I finally caved in and gave it a watch myself.

The show centers around Michael Weston, a recently burned spy who's forced back to his hometown of Miami, Florida due to unforeseen circumstances. There he's joined by retired Navy Seal Sam Axe, ex-girlfriend and explosives genius Fiona Glenanne, and even his mother, who all help Michael clear his name over the course of eight seasons.

No wait, I'm thinking of a different spy show.

It's called Burn Notice and all of you should totally watch it! If the compelling ongoing story of what happened to Michael doesn't draw you in, the promise of eight seasons worth of Bruce Campbell should!

Back to the show we were talking about, it centers around a super-spy known only as Twilight!

Out there is a universe where this guy has the codename Agent Rainbow Dash. In this universe Twilight / Loid Forger is tasked with stopping a war between two countries. How do they intend on him doing that? By turning him into a family man of course! In order to prevent war Loid has to deal with a man named Donovan Desmond, who only appears at social gatherings held at his son's super-elite school. Twilight accepts, adopting the most adorable little girl known as Anya, not knowing that the pink-haired cutie can read minds.

Anya uses her Professor X style powers to get out of a lot of scrapes, such as reading her potential new dad's mind in order complete a crossword puzzle. This convinces the super spy of the girl's intelligence, being the fifth person to adopt the poor little girl. Given how utterly depressing Anya's backstory is, rooting for her proves to be no problem, even when she does act somewhat bratty. If nothing else this show does a terrific job showing how unpredictable children are. She's never a little devil in disguise, nor is she a fallen angel. She's just a decent kid who loves peanuts, penguins, and anime. She also hates carrots and wishes bakery sold bacon. Heck, I'm with Anya on that last one, why don't bakeries sell bacon!?

She also figures out pretty easily that Loid is a spy, a factor she loves considering her favorite show is all about spies.

Her excitement only grows when she meets her new mother, an assassin known as Thorn Princess/ Yor Forger.

Behold, the subject of so much fanart online! I kid but honestly Yor's the most likable character on the show. Despite her night job as an assassin, she tries to be as good a mother to Anya she can be. She's nurturing, supportive, and kicks the ever-loving crap out of anybody who'd dare harm her baby. Yor Forger has the best Momma Bear Mode in all of freak'n fiction.

Along with her relationship with Anya, Yor's relationship with Loid is pretty sweet too. Like so many rom coms, the two get together under contrived circumstances. The school Anya needs to enroll in excludes single parents for whatever reasons, meaning Loid needs a mate in order to achieve world peace. Meanwhile Anya needs a cover up to her assassin job, plus she doesn't want her somewhat creepy brother Loid to find out she was lying about having a boyfriend. The two find each other with Anya's help, forming a fake bond with some very real at its center, regardless of whether or not they want to admit it. Yor gives Twilight the best advice she can, Twilight tries to navigate Yor out of awkward situations, and both act as protective parental units for Anya. A good example of this comes during Anya's entrance exam, one obnoxiously rude headmaster asking Anya if she prefers her new mom or her old one. With tears dripping down their baby's face, you can believe that Yor or Loid would've killed this pompous ass-wipe for saying something so cruel.

Luckily Anya is accepted, which is only half the battle. From there she has to contend with homework and Desmond's second son Damian. If my exposure to the DC Universe has taught me anything, it's that spoiled rich sons called Damian are the biggest brats of them all. While this Damian never gets his butt handed to him by the Ninja Turtles, Anya more than picks up the slack due to training from her mom.

As someone who was bullied extensively when he was younger, scenes like this always feel like karma finally being fulfilled. Unfortunately that's the one kid in school Anya has to befriend. And despite the weird feeling in his heart whenever he's around her, Damian refuses to play ball. Unlike Becky, the daughter of a military contractor who immediately forms a friendship with the Forger kid. Honestly it's so nice when anything good happens to Anya, considering this is the first time a family hasn't returned her. Seeing how all the Forgers help support each other despite continued claims that they're a 'fake family' is beyond heart-warming. It's easy to see why everybody's addicted to this show.

However, that brings me to a major problem. Not with the show mind you, but with Hulu. Back with my Princess Mononoke review I made a big stink about subs vs dubs, rambling on about why I prefer dubbing over subtitles. It all boiled down to me not wanting to read anything at the bottom of the screen when my full attention should go to the bigger picture as a whole. This wasn't a problem with Spy x Family, their first 12 episodes dubbed over. Then came episode 13 and all of a sudden every other episode was subbed. The heck? What happened to the dubs?

My friend Alec explained there are dubs for the rest of Season 1, all of them locked behind a paywall on Crunchyroll. Anybody who's about to type how I should join their premium service can stop right now. I'm addicted to four animes out a billion. Why would I sign up for a service I'd rarely use? Bad as I am with saving money, I ain't that financially foolish. Now I tried to watch the version with subtitles, but I realized how that wasn't gonna fly when a scene with multiple people talking at once played out. Yeah, nope. So for now I have to track down the mangas while waiting for Hulu to get the rest of Season 1. This is really a bummer considering I know who was joining the family come the later half of the season...

What a freak'n tease! For now though, I can confidently say that Spy X Family is fun for the whole family! Grab yourself a bag of peanuts and go check it out for yourself.

Meanwhile, wanna know my thoughts on other anime content? Check out my previous reviews for Komi Can't Communicate and Princess Mononoke! Until then; may the glasses be with you!

NEXT TIME ON GIRAFFE'S EYE VIEW...

[youare-mysonshine]

heavy || bucky barnes

Summary: reader’s mental health has been taking a decline and bucky is there.

Requested: No

Pairing: TFATWS Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: talks of mental health, depression, anxiety, angst, cussing.

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: Hey guys, I’m back I guess lmao. I’ve really been struggling with my mental health lately and I guess I kinda just wanted to put it into words, something productive? And I’ve been feeling our angsty emo boy bucky barnes. Most of you might’ve followed me for my Oscar fics but I kinda wanna branch out and I thought this would be a good time to do so. Anyways, I know that some of you have inboxed me or messaged me and I haven’t responded and I’m sorry. But I just want you all to know that if you’re struggling, I’m always here to talk. About anything, always. So, I hope you enjoy this. I might’ve cried while writing this lmao and I also might’ve ended it on such an awkward place but, i’m still getting used to writing again. (Flashbacks are in italics)

————

Bucky didn’t miss the dark circles under your eyes. He didn’t miss the way you sort of slouched as you approached him. He didn’t miss the way that your smile didn’t really meet your eyes.

“Hey,” You said in a breathless voice. “Sorry, I’m late. I got held up.” You said as you took a seat across from him in the booth. Held up. It was better than telling him that you were thinking of just not showing up at all. In the end, you knew that you couldn’t do that. You couldn’t just blow off your new friend who you had so enjoyed spending time with. So, in a rush, you got dressed and made your way to the small, quiet diner that you two had taken to frequenting together. Bucky Barnes was an enigma if you’d ever met one. The way that you had met was rather.. cliche and something straight from a story.

You had been trying to lay off of the caffeine for a while, realizing that you had nearly gone through an entire packet of 32 k-pods that you had just purchased. You realized that you might’ve had a problem. You had been going pretty strong with staying away from caffeine for the time being, until you passed by a coffee shop and got a whiff of coffee. You just couldn’t help yourself; you bought a cup of coffee. It was when you were walking down the street, holding the cup of coffee in one hand, looking down, that you didn’t see someone walking right in your path. You had collided into what seemed like a solid wall and the impact had caused you to squeeze the cup of coffee in surprise, the warm liquid burning your hand, staining your clothes and the other person. You had realized it was another person you had crashed into when you heard them let out a low cuss.

Bucky’s grumpy self had been fully prepared to tell you off for crashing into him, having just left his therapist’s office, but when you looked up at him with those bright eyes of yours, a million apologies spilling from your lips a mile a minute, he swallowed whatever harsh words had nearly sprung forth. He had apologized as well; both of you had been at fault. Bucky had been going over his session with Dr. Raynor that morning, completely lost in his own mind, and you had your eyes trained on the ground, something that was a bad habit of yours. The shock of realizing you had bumped into a man, a really really handsome man with the brightest blue eyes you had ever seen, had made you temporarily forget that you had practically scorched your hand with the coffee, and that you had gotten it on him as well.

“I’m so, so sorry.” You said once again, quickly averting your eyes from the handsome stranger’s face. Instead you focused on the smushed cup in your hand and the stains on his leather jacket. It just made you feel even terrible. “I, I can pay for you to get your jacket cleaned, if you want. Really. I wasn’t paying attention and I just, for whatever reason, squished my cup and.. I’m sorry.” You said, kind of breathlessly.

“It’s.. it’s alright.” His voice was like the coffee that you had been drinking. Smooth and rich. It was deep, something that reverberated deep in your chest and had your stomach fluttering with butterflies. “I wasn’t paying attention either. Really, it’s fine. And don’t worry about my jacket. No harm, no foul.” He said. “You should, uh, you should take care of that hand. Hope you didn’t burn yourself too bad.” He gestured to your hand, still clutching the cup, with one of his own gloved hands.

“Oh, I’ll be fine. It wasn’t that hot. Thank you, though. And again, I’m really, really sorry.” Sparing one, seemingly, last glance at the handsome stranger, you side stepped him and began to walk away, tossing the empty cup of coffee in a trash can on the sidewalk. But you didn’t get very far because that deep voice called out to you, halting you in your tracks.

“Can I buy you another cup of coffee?” Bucky’s mouth had opened and spoken the words long before his brain could even catch up. He didn’t know why he had asked you that, but something in his gut was just telling him too.

“What?” A look of total bewilderment had crossed your face and he had seen it.

“I just, well I thought that, since I bumped into you, I could make it up to you by buying you a new cup of coffee. If you wanted, I mean. You don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anything.” Bucky clarified, hand stuffed in his pocket, waiting for your answer. For a few seconds, you simply stood there, unsure of what to say because surely this wasn’t happening? The last time that you had gone out with a guy was.. well, shit, you didn’t even remember the last time. The little voice in the back of your head, that anxious, paranoid little voice, was telling you not to go off with a stranger. You’d watched too many episodes of Criminal Minds and other true crime shows and documentaries to know that situations like this never turned out well. However, you didn’t get a bad feeling from this particular man. He seemed just as awkward and slightly frazzled as you felt. So you agreed.

“I’m Bucky, by the way.”

“Y/N.”

That had happened about two months ago. Ever since then, you and Bucky had formed a strong friendship. Your first time getting coffee with him had been awkward, as were the next few times that you had seen one another. But things got easier. Becoming friends was easy. You kind of fell into this routine, almost as if you two had known each other your whole lives. That was why Bucky telling you who he really was had been terrifying for him. He carried around guilt and shame and just contempt for everything he’d done. Everything The Winter Soldier represented, and when he told you, he figured that you would think the same. He had asked you meet him at the diner that had now become your spot and and you remember how he nervously wrung his gloved hands together. You remember when you asked him what was wrong and he didn’t verbally respond but he took off his gloves; the right one first and then the left, revealing a shiny black metal hand, golden lines intricately placed.

He told you then. Maybe he didn’t tell you everything but he told you who he was and he had braced himself for you to get up and storm out. Or, to yell at him and tell him how much of a monster he was. But, it never came. Instead, you reached out and placed your hand on top his. Not his real hand, but the metal one. You didn’t say anything. You just gave him that smile that was quickly becoming his favorite. Sometimes, silence spoke a thousand words. To Bucky, you had become kind of a respite for him. Even in the late nights or mornings when he woke up after a nightmare. Or after a particularly hard session with Dr. Raynor. He had closed himself off from other people except you.

Bucky might not have known it, but he gave you the same level of comfort as you gave him. You found yourself craving his presence. Every time you were around him, you couldn’t help but to smile or laugh. In the time that you spent together, your mind was clear and free from all your worries. It all evaporated into thin air. Your mind, usually so active with all sorts of thoughts and worries, could finally rest when you were with Bucky. You could sleep. You could get up in the morning without that stress and anxiety drowning you. It was okay. It was great.

Until it wasn’t.

“No problem, doll.” He said, gloved hands clasped under the table on his lap. “I already ordered. Got your usual. Hope that was alright.” He added, to which you nodded absentmindedly.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s fine. Thanks Buck.” You said, mustering up a half hearted smile that didn’t reach your eyes. It was like even smiling drained the energy from you. You were exhausted. Not even just physically but mentally and emotionally. You had been having such good days for a while now, since meeting Bucky. You felt like maybe you would finally be alright but.. this feeling of hopelessness, the feeling that nothing was quite right, it was heavy. It weighed you down. It suffocated you. You wanted to be alone, but you also couldn’t stand to be alone because when you were alone, you were just stuck in your head and being in your head was the absolute worst place to be.

The intrusive thoughts had started. They told you that you would do nothing but weigh Bucky down. That he didn’t need someone like you in his life, someone with clear problems of their own, when he was going to therapy trying to better himself. Even if it had been mandatory for him to go. You wanted to push him away, save him from yourself, but you also couldn’t stand the thought of losing him.

Bucky noticed the shift in you. Normally when you two met up, whether it was at the diner or anywhere else, you would usually talk his ear off. Not that he minded, he was content to just sit back and listen to you. Sometimes, you’d tell him about a new book that you had started reading. You had just started reading the fifth Harry Potter book and you were trying to get him to read them. You’d tell him about your day. You’d ask him how his day went, how it went with Dr. Raynor, though you never pushed for more information. You always let him share if he was comfortable with it and he appreciated that. Sometimes you teased him for being such an old man.

The food came soon after you had arrived and sure enough, Bucky had ordered your usual. It sent a pang through your heart when you realized that he had memorized your order, down to the extra syrup and whipped cream on the pancakes. Bucky always liked to make fun of you for ordering the same thing when you came to the diner. No matter what time it was, you always ordered the pancakes with extra syrup and extra whip cream, with the strawberries on the side. Secretly, though he found it adorable.

Today, you had barely even taken more than a few bites and that was what really let Bucky know that something wasn’t right. You kept your head down, eyes on the pancakes and you cut them up, bringing a few up to your mouth and chewing slowly, but you mostly just moved them around your plate with the fork in your hand. Bucky himself had barely taken only a few bites of the food he’d ordered for himself, but it wasn’t for lack of appetite, it was because of the growing concern. His bright blue eyes were now a stormy grey, kind of like the clouds that you see during a heavy storm. His brows were furrowed, giving him an appearance almost as if he were angry.

“You alright, Y/N? You’ve barely eaten your food and normally you finish before I do.” He attempted to joke, to bring about that smile that seemed to always fill him with warmth. He half expected you to look up at him with that cheeky little smile, a mischievous look in your eyes and say “You know, I would be offended by that, but I know why you eat so slow, Buck. I completely understand. You don’t want your dentures to fall out.” But it never came.

You don’t know what it was. Bucky asking you if you were alright or if it was simply all the pressure of just.. everything, finally breaking, but you could feel the hot tears in your eyes. They blurred your vision until you couldn’t really see the plate of the pancakes in focus. The dam had finally come apart and you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You set the fork down and buried your face in your hands, your shoulders lightly shaking as you began to cry. All Bucky could do was stare for a few seconds, alarm written all over his face. Alarm and distress because he had no idea what just happened and if he had done something to upset you.

“Woah woah, hey. Sweetheart, hey. What’s wrong?” In seconds, Bucky was out of his side of the booth and scooting in beside you. You felt the comfort of his warmth, you felt his arm tentatively, almost hesitantly, slide around your shoulders and anchor you to him. You shook your head, attempting to calm down, to stop the tears but the more you tried, the more they seemed to come.

“I-I’m sorry, Bucky.. I.. I’m sorry.. I-I’m fine. Really.” You said, sniffling. It was apparent to you both that you were not alright and he really just wanted to get to the bottom of it. Or at least attempt to comfort you. But doing that in the middle of a diner with other people around wasn’t ideal.

“Hey, my apartment is only a short walk away. Come on, let’s get you out of here and somewhere more quiet.” You didn’t protest. You just nodded and slid out of the booth after he did. Bucky took out his wallet and placed a few bills on the table, paying for the uneaten food, and then quickly led you out of the establishment. He kept his hand on you, almost like an anchor. Whether it was to reassure you or himself, he didn’t know and you didn’t mind either. It was probably the only thing that kept you from retreating inside of your mind and giving in to the panic that so desperately wanted out.

You didn’t even realize that you had reached his apartment until he had led you up the stairs and you were standing behind him as he unlocked the door. He allowed you to step in first and then quickly followed behind you, shutting the door as he did so. You didn’t really get the chance to take in his apartment because he had ushered you to sit on his couch while he knelt in front of you.

“Alright, you’re scarin’ me here, doll. What’s wrong? Did someone hurt you?” The sheer look of concern and slight panic in his face and those pretty eyes of his made the waterworks come back again. You shook your head, your face scrunched up in anguish. Hot bullet tears fell from your eyes and left a wet path in their wake down your cheeks. Bucky wasn’t one to pry; he hated it when people tried to pry into his life and he didn’t do it to you, but he couldn’t stand the sight of seeing you cry. He couldn’t stand the sight of your once bright eyes and cheery smile just.. gone. You eyes were sad and your lips were pulled into a frown. “Talk to me, baby.” He practically pleaded.

“I just.. I don’t.. I don’t know how to explain it, Buck.” You cried. “I-I.. I just feel like..” You let out a frustrated cry when you couldn’t find the right words but Bucky was patient. He reached a hand up, cupping your cheek and wiping away the tears that kept falling. “I don’t feel.. happy. Everyday I wake up and I just, I feel fine for like a few seconds and then everything just comes crashing down on me. I can’t ever stop thinking. I can’t sleep at night. I’m tired. I’m tired of feeling like this, Bucky. And I feel fucking crazy. Sometimes I feel like you don’t even really like me. I feel.. hopeless, like nothing is ever going to be okay. I might feel okay for a few seconds but then it just goes away.” You explained, though you were sure that you probably sounded like a raving and ranting lunatic. “Before I met you, I liked being alone but I also hated it because when I was alone, I would just overthink and overthink and overthink about every fucking thing. If it wasn’t one thing it was another just giving me such bad anxiety and.. I don’t know what to do anymore, Bucky. I’m just tired of feeling like this. Feeling like nothing is ever going to be okay, like I’m never going to be okay. I just feel.. alone.”

His heart was well and truly broken. In the two months that he’d known you, he hadn’t known how badly you had struggled with your mental health. He hadn’t known the war that you fought within your mind, and how bad it had become. You were such saving grace for Bucky; you saved him from the wars inside of his mind. The constant feeling of guilt that he fought with on a daily basis, and now.. he just wanted to do the same for you. He wanted to shoulder some of the pain that you carried, the pain that seemed to be weighing you down. Both of his hands now cupped your cheeks so delicately, as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him. His blue eyes were shining, looking at you with not pity, but something like.. understanding. If anyone knew what you were feeling, it was Bucky.

“You’re not alone.” His smooth and rich voice was so soft, so gentle that it brought on a new set of tears. “You’re not alone, sweetheart. Not anymore. You know why? Cause you got me.” He said. “I know what it’s like to feel hopeless. To feel stuck in your head. To feel like nothing is ever gonna get better. I felt like that in Wakanda. Sometimes.. sometimes, we need help. And I know I’m not one to be talking considering that I don’t really like talking to my therapist or even going,” That roused the smallest of smiles from you. “I’m here. You know that, right? I’m here. You got me and I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I don’t care if you have a million bad days. I don’t care if you feel like you’re bothering me. I’ll be there every time.” You two have gradually gravitated close to one another until your foreheads were pressed together. Bucky was still knelt in front of you on the couch, his hands still holding your cheeks. Your eyes were closed and you could feel his warm breath fanning your face. The tears had stopped falling but you were still sniffling softly. “You’ve helped me. Even if you don’t know it. You’ve helped me.” He was whispering. There was no one but you two in his apartment but he was still whispering the words meant for only you to hear. “Now, let me help you. Please.”

“Okay. I trust you, Bucky.”

[forgiveness-in-the-misery]

Toki’s Psychological State Through the Seasons

Toki is by far for me personally the most interesting member of Dethklok; I know to some degree he’s deemed as a potentially over hyped character by fans and even the show itself, but there’s countless reasons why people cling onto that character, and they’re good reasons. Even if said reasons just come down to “I think he’s neat.” that’s valid.

For me I am so fascinated with his character development, personality, and the varied chunks of background information we get about him throughout the series. A big part of this character is that when you look at him in season one compared to season four he is very different or at least he appears to be much different. Season one does establish that Toki does have a childish personality, his bedroom looks more like a room for a kid than one for a guy in his 20s. Season one establishes those basic facts about him that do heavily carry out through the show, but also increase as the show goes on.

Toki goes from immature but not overly immature to....a complete fucking wreck by the finale of season four (before Doomstar) and the reason for it is simple; it’s trauma.

Toki starts to act differently in season one after the Dethfamily episode; he spends practically that entire episode in a catatonic state, his parents always looming nearby like figures of danger and doom. After this we do get to him being bitter about being seen as immature and seen as the kid of the band (despite the fact he was barely 16 when he joined Dethklok) and when a charity informs him that a dying girl wants to meet him he turns into a complete prick. He finally comes out of that when he sees a video the kid made of herself singing a song about death and hatred, with that scene we see a small flashback of Toki’s childhood; him about the little girl’s age standing out in the snow staring up at his parents looking confused and a moment later he’s being smacked across the face. 

We could already gather beforehand when we found out he came from a very devout religious sect outside of Lillehammer that his childhood was sketchy, plus how he locked up when around his parents, but seeing the flashback of him being hit as a little boy.....Answers the obvious question of “did they beat him?”

Season one is the least eventful of the seasons. Season two is when shit begins changing drastically.

Season two Toki receives a call to inform him that his father has cancer and is on his death bed, the family and the church wants him to return to Norway to see his father. He acts completely fine about this initially, the phone conversation and the way he announces his father’s terminal illness to the band is as if somebody just asked to borrow his car. When it gets close to time to actually go and when they are in Norway it’s different though; he becomes anxious and clearly uncomfortable, in Norway he stays in town mostly, stalling around places he went to as a kid and a teenager before he ran off to America. 

He does handle his father’s dying well once he finally convinces himself to go inside his house and see him then follow through with his father’s dying request to carry him up to his old childhood home (which goes wrong because his friend’s are dicks.) 

I am not going to go into personal detail at all and my situation was nothing like Toki’s (it’s incredibly rare to hear situations like that anymore), but Toki handling his father’s passing freakishly well kind of was a red flag for me, because I know from my own experiences that when you find out something complicated like a terminal illness or the death of your abusive parent theres’ a chance you may respond way too calmly to it, and then later down the line days or months or years later something will trigger a big reaction to it. Which is what happens.

After handling his dad’s death well we get the most iconic scene involving Toki at that point and honestly still the most iconic; he beats a man to death with his bare hands. The thing that triggers this is a hallucinated image of a rabbit, an animal he associates both with his father and his childhood, the image of it triggers him to fly into an insanely feral blind rage taking it out on a guy who had been annoying him all night. Toki has always throughout the entire series shown signs of being a tad violent, but never THAT bad. Sure he shot down a plane and had accidentally caused a death or twenty (the whole band is, it’s part of the sacrifices to the Gods deal) but we had never seen him before or after that moment beat somebody to death. That is new and it came from a place of pent up....shit. Shit he never worked through and even after that continued to not work through.

Because after this we lead into him worsening further; he begins drinking. A lot. The band consist of dudes with addiction issues, mainly alcohol, but Toki never seemed to drink quite as much as them until after he went feral on that straight edge guy. 

Toki deals with his childhood trauma in several ways:

He drinks. A lot.

He focuses on fantasy and daydreams to keep himself from focusing on his past.

He spends a lot of time with Dr. Rockso who takes advantage of his kindness often, he also spends gross amounts of money bailing his clown buddy out of jail. Constantly.

He occasionally gets violent, but never to the point of manslaughter.

Seasons three and four are when we get fully introduced to Toki acting like a kid more than a guy in his 20s and it makes sense. Toki didn’t have a childhood; we learn that his parents essentially made him into a slave at a young age having him do pointless “chores” like sweeping snow during a storm, carrying stacks of wood much too heavy for a small child, etc. and when he failed to work quickly enough or failed a task they punished him. They punished him by locking him in a shed, they punished him by chaining him up like an animal, they punished him by smacking him, by beating him with a bull whip, and worst of all (who knew it could get worse) they would force him to stay for long periods of times in a deep hole dug into the ground. A hole where he hid a clown doll made of twigs and straw, the only friend he had as a little kid.

From all that we can gather through the show he didn’t exactly have a social life of any kind until his teens, the older he became the braver I think he became, and that was responded to with worse violence from his parents. I think the statement in season one about a vision of father killing son wasn’t totally off, I think if Toki had never run away from Norway that his father would have murdered him. I think his parents knew somehow that he isn’t entirely human, they knew he was something else, and I do think his parents had plans to kill him before he could become “too powerful”. 

That aside though.....Once we the audience as well as his friends find out far more details about his horrifying childhood Toki changes. A lot. He’d already been immature and a tad bit off but he regresses further after that, more prone to depression and outbursts, clinginess, and a need to feel like he’s loved by pretty much anybody.

This is a dude who is about my age that came to the horrid realization that any person or animal he loves will die because that’s his “gift”, the gift of death. He works his ass off to repress and rationalize a brutally nightmarish childhood, and the guys he’s in a band with who he loves and sees as his family....are dicks. We know that when he joined Dethklok before they got famous that they were all close, but when they began becoming popular and became immensely wealthy the others became more focused on self indulgence and power, less focused on this still a child who desperately just wanted a family.

I think a key factor with Toki being the way he is comes down to the band’s “no caring” rule. A rule that only existed because of Magnus. Toki is the baby in a group of people who have known each other for a good while, people who came to an agreement to not give a shit about each other for a reason they never explained to him because it’s too painful for them to think about. I think he always tried to live by that rule of not caring, he tried to bury all the shit wrong with himself the best that he could but he was never good at it. It’s also clear they all care about each other and they definitely care about Toki; Nathan and Skwisgaar often being the most protective of him. 

In season four aka the season where the show becomes less of a comedy and more of a drama with stunning animation. Toki is immensely more immature and awkward, he’s clingy with the band especially where Skwisgaar is regarded. Near the end of season four he’s completely fucked up; he splits his time between Rockso (his comfort object) and Magnus (a father figure to replace Nathan) in the dinner episode which has so much going on in it. So much. Toki is at his lowest point in the series; he shows up late, drunk as fucking hell, shirtless, and covered in bruises and cuts. Rockso is with him and when Charles tries to tell him Rockso shouldn’t be there Toki goes into a full fucking anxiety attack until Charles tells him it’s fine to have the clown there. Toki’s heavily dependent on Rockso by that point; his found family is quickly falling to shit. God knows what kind of shit Magnus might have been feeding him about the band at that point. 

Toki’s entire thing from day one/the pilot of the series is that he just wants a family. When he feels like he doesn’t belong in the one that he found and was taken in by he searches for family in other places, when he can’t handle the memories of his childhood he spirals hard. I understand that the guys didn’t really know how to handle it after they heard about Toki’s childhood so I can’t fault them completely for just.....shoving him off onto Rockso after that, but I still think they should have tried to be there for him more so, more directly. I think an outlet that isn’t a drug addled clown might have helped him in some way, I think if when he’d been a teenager if one of them had found out about his upbringing and just pointed out “that isn’t okay, at all.” then things might have panned out differently. 

Mental regression isn’t uncommon when it comes down to victims of trauma caused by extreme abuse. Especially considering his trauma all occurred basically from the get go; he was a child slave, the closest I would guess he ever got to having a childhood when he was a kid was seeing other kids childhoods. Going into town and seeing kids playing, sneaking into birthday parties just to be around other kids his age, etc. and he definitely was childish as a teenager, but I think he tried to bury that side of himself when his bandmates started teasing him or pointing out how unmetal it all is.....But then a douche bag journalist brought his parents to America, a little girl died, his abusive father died horribly (as he should) in front of him, he beat a man to death (allegedly), etc. 

He spent a lot of years away from all the trauma and the death and the bull shit then suddenly it started piling on top of him again and his escapism was fantasy, clinging onto a junkie clown, partaking in childish hobbies.....because why not? 

Each member of the band suffered some messed up shit when they were kids and it shows in different ways, this is Toki’s way of dealing with it....or not. I’m not entirely sure what his psychological state would be post Doomstar; the way he bounces back from immense trauma makes me think that he would be okay given some time and that’s a safe assumption to make, especially now that his bandmates/family will be there for him the way he needs them to be.

I want to tag @theidiotwiththepaintedface who hopefully will enjoy this painfully long deep dive into a character’s psychology lol.

[extratragic]

put the pieces back together

pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

warning: depression & all that good stuff that comes with it. (promise it’s really just soft JJ)

word count: 2057

(found the gif @rudypankows )

request: Could you do a scenario where the reader breaks up with jj bc she doesn’t want him to deal with her problems (depression,Anxiety, low-self esteem anger issues) and when jj finds out why she broke up with him he goes and comfort her if you will 👉🏽👈🏽🥺 angst to fluff 🤧❤️

summary: JJ is just the person to take care of the girl he loves

y/d/n = your dad’s name, y/m/n = your moms name, y/b/n = your brothers name

   “I just... I can’t do this anymore, JJ. I’m not good for you.”

That was the last time that the group saw you for weeks. 

You and JJ had been dating for six months at that point. Everything was going perfectly according to JJ, and everything was going perfectly until absolutely nothing was going perfect in your life. 

It wasn’t a sudden switch like you’d had before, either. 

You felt the way that you’d want to be home more often than going out with your friends. Even shopping felt like a drag, but you thought you could push past it this time. You didn’t wear your bikini anymore, though. You either wore a once piece or a swim shirt with shorts. Your body just looked... off when you put a bikini on, and your self-esteem couldn’t handle being around Kie while you felt like that. 

You weren’t eating, either. 

JJ was the first to notice that when you did come to The Wreck with them, you would steal fries from his plate but that’s it. 

Depression kicked your ass when it wanted to, and when anxiety joined the party, you felt like you couldn’t be around anyone. 

You were diagnosed with anxiety at eleven years old, and then depression at thirteen. You’d only known the Pogue’s for a year, and they only knew about your anxiety. Telling people about either diagnosis made you feel uncomfortable, but you knew that this group was insane and might just push your limits. 

When JJ got a text from your mom three weeks after you broke up with him saying that she needed him, he yelled at John B to drive the HMS back to his house at that second. His leg was bouncing the entire ride and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Did something happen to you? Did something happen to your siblings? Your dad? 

Kie tried to comfort him, but he didn’t listen to any of them. He was scared. He knew something was wrong with you and he didn’t tell anyone about it. 

JJ was off of the boat and on his bike before anyone could say a word to him. Yeah, you broke up with him, but you were still his girl. He wouldn’t have a problem beating someone’s ass if they came near you, and he would always be there if you needed him. And right now, you need him.

He knocked on the front door and your dad opened it after a few seconds. 

“We need to talk before you see her,” he said. 

JJ nodded and walked into your family’s home, sitting on the couch with your parents. 

“She told us that you know about her anxiety,” your dad started off. JJ nodded again and your dad took a deep breath before continuing. “She was diagnosed with depression a couple years after the anxiety. She’s on medications, but sometimes it’s too much for her to handle. Everything’s been okay since she became friends with you guys. But sometimes everything hits her at once and... this happens,” he sighed, running his hand over his face. 

“Is it my fault?” JJ asked weakly. 

He was so scared that he was the reason behind what was happening with you. Did he do something to set you off? Did he go too far in something?

“No! No, JJ. Sometimes her anxiety attacks are easier to figure out, but these... the depression episodes are hard for all of us, especially her. It could’ve been finals that started it, for all we know. The best thing that we’ve learned is that she needs someone she loves by her side,” Y/d/n said. 

JJ took a deep breath and looked at the hallway that led to your room. 

“She broke up with me,” he said quietly. 

“We know. But we also know y/n, and we know that she loves you, JJ,” Y/m/n told him.

“Can I see her?” JJ asked. 

They nodded and he stood up, walking down the hall and grabbing the door handle with a shaky hand. After collecting himself, he opened the door, relaxing just a little bit when he saw y/b/n sitting beside you. His heart broke when he saw you on the bed. Your comforter and his blanket were wrapped around you and you were laying on the bed, looking at nothing. 

The fairy lights that you always - always- had on were off. Your clothes were in a pile by your desk. Your room was just a mess, and you were such a clean person that it shocked him. 

“Can I...” JJ trailed off, looking at your brother. 

He nodded and whispered something to you before getting up. When he stopped by JJ, he looked back at you and sighed. 

“She’ll be okay. You just gotta remember that,” he told JJ. 

JJ nodded shakily and your brother patted his shoulder before leaving. 

“Hey, sweet girl,” JJ said softly, crouching down beside your bed. 

You looked at him and he smiled softly, tucking your hair behind your ear. You closed your eyes and he kissed your forehead before laying down beside you. While JJ played with your hair, you barely moved from your spot. His phone chimed and he looked at the screen, seeing a text from your mom. 

We’re going to get something to eat from the wreck. If you want something, you can just text it. 

p.s, y/n hasn’t showered in almost a week. if you can get her up, that would be great for her

“Want something to eat, baby?” He asked quietly. 

He barely heard the ‘no’ escape your lips, but he texted your mom to get your favorite order anyways. He loved it, and if you wouldn’t eat the main part, then maybe you’d eat the fries. 

There were texts from John B, Kie, and Pope, but he’d just text them when you were asleep.

“You sleepy?” He asked. 

You shook your head and he nodded, looking over your face carefully. He could tell from the dried streaks on your cheeks that you’d been crying, but your eyes held no emotion other than pure exhaustion. Your pretty pink lips were chapped and there was a small crack on your bottom lip. The eyebrows that you usually kept perfectly plucked were no longer in perfect condition, but he thought you still looked good. Even in what you thought was your worst, he still thought you were beautiful.

You were always beautiful in his eyes. 

“When’s the last time you showered, sweet girl?” He asked. 

You shrugged and he raised his eyebrows. “Dunno. A week?” You guessed. 

Your voice was broken and raspy like you had barely used it over the last three weeks. 

“Wanna shower? I can help,” he offered, running his fingers through your hair. It was a little greasy at the roots, but it didn’t bother him.

“You don’t have to take care of me. I broke up with you,” you muttered.

He scrunched up his nose and sighed, nodding. That one hurt just a bit.

“Yeah, true. But you’re always my girl. So, shower?” He asked.

Tears slowly filled your eyes and you nodded. “I’m sorry,” you choked out.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, baby. I know you’re hurting,” he told you.

He pulled you into his arms and kissed the top of your head, squeezing you tightly. You grabbed his hand and held it to your chest as your tears fell from your eyes and onto his chest.

The two of you eventually made it to your bathroom and he took his clothes off until he was in his boxers, then he helped you undress. For some reason, the people that owned the house before your family had a stool for the shower, but it came in handy now.

You sat on the stool with your back towards the showerhead with your forehead on JJ’s abdomen. He washed your hair for you, smiling softly at the smell wafting through the small bathroom. His favorite smell was your berry scented shampoo and conditioner.

When you first got it, you were always complaining about how you never got anything that smelled the way you thought it would. Once you washed your hair with that, he fell in love with it just as much as you did.

After washing your hair, he got down on his knees and helped you wash your body, kissing your cheeks as he went along. When he fished your arms, he kissed your right cheek. After your legs, he kissed your left cheek. He kept going until you told him you felt clean.

“Any other special pampering?” He asked, smiling softly.

“My face,” you answered. 

He grabbed the small pink thing that he always saw you use and put the face wash on it, rubbing it into your skin. You smiled when he mumbled a ‘sorry’ when going near your eyes. It didn’t hurt, it just felt weird that someone else’s hand was this close when your eyes were closed. 

“All done. Did we miss anything?” He asked. 

You shook your head and he turned the water off, getting out of the shower. He took his soaked boxers off and wrapped one towel around his waist and wrapped the other towel around your body. It was fluffy, just as you liked it, and you snuggled against JJ after he wrapped you in the towel.

“What pajamas, baby?” He asked.

“I dunno. Let’s figure it out,” you told him.

He nodded and went back to your room, stopping in front of your closet. You picked out one of his shirts that he left there and slipped it on, moving away from JJ to wrap your towel around your head. You grabbed a pair of underwear and shorts, then climbed into bed.

“Your clothes are in the top drawer. Get dressed and cuddle,” you told him.

He laughed and did as you said, quickly getting dressed. When he got into bed beside you, he realized that the sheets were different than before.

“Hang on,” he said, quickly shooting up and going over to your vanity. He grabbed your moisturizer and walked back over to you, gently rubbing it into your skin.

“You hungry?” He asked when he finished.

You shook your head like you did before.

“Okay. Well, I am, and I asked your mom to get me something. I’ll be right back,” he told you.

“Okay,” you said quietly.

He kissed your forehead and went into the kitchen, seeing your parents and brother eating.

“You got her up?” Your dad asked.

“Showered and changed. She says she’s not hungry, but I figured that she might want some fries at least,” he told them.

Your mom smiled happily at him, sliding the to-go box across the table.

“Keep the crumbs off those sheets,” she playfully warned.

“Yes, ma’am,” he grinned, taking the box and plastic silverware and going back to your room.

When JJ came back into your room with your favorite meal from The Wreck, your heart melted. Food just didn’t sound good at all to you, but you knew that you had to eat something today. Usually it was your brother that got you to eat, but JJ was definitely better than him. 

“J,” you said quietly. 

He hummed, pulling the covers over his legs and putting an old towel over the comforter to keep the crumbs from getting on the sheets.

“Thank you,” you told him.

His blue eyes met your loving gaze and he leaned in slowly, waiting for your nod to kiss your lips softly. 

“Anything for you, my sweet girl,” he said, pecking your lips again before digging into his dinner. 

You smiled softly and laid your head on his shoulder, occasionally stealing a fry. He held up the fork to your mouth and you took the bite, making him grin. He was simply just happy with making small progress. You knew that this was far more than small progress and it made you feel even better. 

JJ, the broken teenage boy, was able to keep you sane through your bad times. You, another broken teen, just happened to be one of the few people to help JJ through his bad times. 

You put each others pieces back together, one at a time. 

[writefasttalkevenfaster]

Take My Hand (Part Three)

Summary: feelings are hurt, mistakes are made, and someone wakes up in the wrong bed (one of three four ??? parts) 

Pairings: Rafael Barba x Reader, Sonny Carisi x Reader

Word Count: 6,992

Song:  It wasn't right / The way it all went down / Looks like you know that now (closure by taylor swift) 

Warnings: T, spoilers for 19x13 (the undiscovered country) and use of some dialogue from that episode, infant death, some swearing, drinking, drunken behavior, so much angst, 

A/N: thank you for @bucky-of-the-opera​ and @laneygthememequeen​ for letting me bounce ideas off and being such amazing beta readers. and thank you to @qvid-pro-qvo​ for the support and enthusiasm as i muddled my way through these scenes. And thank you to all of you for reading :) 

“Another,” you slam your glass on the table, “please.” 

“Are you sure you want another?” the bartender raised an eyebrow at you, the glasses lined around you. 

“I asked for another,” you hiss, your voice raising and falling, the sound making the ache in your head sharp, a knife dragging across your forehead from temple to temple. 

The drink lands in front of you, "I'm cutting you off," you click your teeth together, your fingers pressed the cool glass, the only thing grounding you, "hey, hey," she snaps her fingers, "did you drive here?" 

You scoff, "Who drives in New York?" The remark doesn't come off as biting as you want, words slurring. 

The bartender taps on your phone, lying on the counter amongst the glasses, "call someone to pick you up. We're closing. Don't go home by yourself." 

You sip at your drink, your throat numb to any burn alcohol could provide you — the thrill gone, only left the bitter depressant you needed to relieve the pain. But there was no amount that could relieve this pain because one word brought it back — Rafael. 

A wound that had scabbed over so times could still bleed, and this pain came with no adrenaline to numb it. But nothing could numb this pain — the one searing in your hollow chest, your heart long forlorn the moment you stepped from that office — no, it was earlier. Was it the moment you chose to love him? No, maybe it was the moment you kissed him, sunk into those eyes made for sinking, and you stood at the helm, unwavering. Because, after all, it was your heart to sink. 

You loved him — you loved him even when he was completely unloveable in his behavior — your adoration for toleration. You loved him even when you didn't want to — when you knew he didn't deserve it, when you deserved more. You loved him, but you didn't know why. 

And you wished you never did. 

The bartender snaps her fingers again, "Hey, please call someone because I don't want you leaving here alone." 

But you missed him, you scrolled through your contacts, finding his name so easily — his contact picture was of him in the office, sitting beside you on his couch with a mouthful of dumplings, irritated by something Buchanan had said. The next picture on your camera roll if you remembered was him lunging for your phone, and the third was of him kissing you, the taste of soy sauce on his lips. 

Was the last time you kissed him the last time? Would it be the last time you touched him? The last time you slept beside him? 

Your finger hovered over the call button — it would be easy to call him, to talk to him, to love him. But, your thumb slides right, going back to your contacts, just because it was easy didn't mean it was right. 

Tears slid down your face, as you downed the rest of your drink. 

But you needed to call someone — someone you trusted. 

Sonny did not expect to spend his Thursday night (or was it Friday morning?)  like this — not at Forlini’s, not out at 3 AM, and certainly not picking you up. 

You weren't exactly clear about much on the phone — between the slurring and the mumbling he was only able to make out the address and "can you pick me up?"

He hurried down the street, sidestepping several burly men, who jeered at him as he passed by, his nerves shot at this point. He had seen at least eight of the men he's passed in lockup, and here you were in the thick of it. 

What were you thinking? 

He finds the place with ease, stepping into it, finding the bartender wiping up a table by the front. Irritated, she jerks her head towards the bar, "over there, the last drink hit hard, so you might have some trouble getting home, buddy." 

His brow wrinkles, "What do you—" 

"Sonny!" your voice is high, throwing up your hands in a to-do, as you stumble off the stool, while Sonny barely moves in time to catch you. 

“Whoa, whoa, are you okay, counselor?” you pout, sighing loudly, as you gently take his hands off of you, instead intertwining your fingers with his. 

“I told you to call me by my name, Sonny,” he clears his throat, feeling his ears burn as you tugged him closer, peering up at him with a wide grin, “or should I start calling you Detective Carisi?” your voice low and teasing, he leans away. 

Okay, he bites his lip, stepping away from you. 

What had he gotten himself into? 

After several minutes of bargaining, bartering, and bribes, he was able to convince you to leave the bar, much to his (and the bartender’s) relief. But then again, the problems kept coming. He pulls you outside, and you’re shivering, your suit jacket clearly not enough. He pulls off his sweatshirt, handing it to you, you open your mouth to protest, but when another strong wind blows through, and you pull it over your shoulders. 

He glances away, but his eyes wander back to you — his ears burning at the sight of you in his clothes. 

No, no, this was not the time, he chided himself. 

“Come on, let’s get you home, sweetheart,” and you pull away from him. 

“I can’t go home,” he crosses his arms, struggling to keep his temper even at 2 in the morning, his patience worn away to nothingness in that bar. 

“Sweetheart,” you shake your head — now you were just being stubborn, “the bar is closed, you have to go home.” 

“No, I can’t go home,” and he sees the tears in your eyes, streaking down your face, and you’re shaking your head, arms crossed, “I can’t, Sonny. Please.” 

And his irritation turns to fear — he’s seen this before, too many times, far too many times, a sinking feeling in his gut, “What happened?” 

“Sonny—” your voice breaks, it was a blurred line between anger and fear — and he didn’t know what he felt right now — but he knew he was going to lose his mind if you didn’t tell him what was going on right now. 

“Did someone do something to you?” you shake your head, “did they touch you—” 

“No, Sonny, no,” you wipe your tears away, sniffing, “I just broke up with the guy I was seeing. The one I told you about. It wasn’t working,” you gave a watery chuckle, “it never worked to begin with.” 

He says your name, his anger simmering, “I’m—” 

You wave him off, before sighing, “I just can’t deal with him right now. And if I go home,” your voice shakes, “he might show up there and I can’t do that. I can’t.” 

Sonny feels his heart thump against his chest, reaching for your hand, squeezing it, “Then we won’t.” 

He takes you to his place, it doesn’t take long to get to — it takes longer to get you out of the cab, fully asleep on his shoulder by the time they arrive. His arm around you, supporting you, he takes you inside, “You take the bed, okay? I’ll sleep on the couch.” 

“You don’t have to do that,” you mumble, leaning against him as he unlocks the door, hating how he liked the way you felt against him, and he sighs. No, it feels like he does. You were his friend first — anything he felt was irrelevant. He shut the door behind him. 

Until it wasn’t. But it wouldn’t be relevant — not tonight. 

“Come on,” he helps you to his bedroom, having you sit at the edge of the bed, kneeling as he takes your shoes off for you. He looks up to find you staring at him, eyes glassy, “What’s wrong?” 

“You really care about me, don’t you, Sonny?” and he tilts his head. 

“Of course I do,” he frowns, “what do you—” 

And you kiss him. It’s brief, but in his mind, it feels like forever — your lips were as soft as he thought they would be. He tastes the alcohol on your tongue, but that’s nothing compared to you. 

He had never wanted to feel this way. 

When did he first feel it? 

When you had comforted him about Coles? No, maybe when you asked him to join you for a drink after shadowing? Or maybe it was the moment he saw you in your office, when you told him to call you by your name — when you called him by his. 

He pulls away, and you sit, breath hot against his, whispering so quietly he barely hears it even in the silence, “I wish he cared about me the way you did.” 

And he supposed it didn’t matter — helping you lay down — because it didn’t mean anything anyway. 

Your first memory is regret, followed by pain — in that order — a sharp pain in your head stirs you into consciousness and into terror because, not only were you surely going to die, but in a stranger’s home. A knife would have been kinder than a hangover — when was the last time you had one? Have you ever had one before? 

Your stomach lurched — you didn’t need to think about that right now. 

You pushed yourself up, mind swimming and muscles screaming, your eyes surely bench pressing a thousand pounds to stay open, what the fuck happened— 

The picture on the bedside table came into focus — was that— 

It was Sonny with his niece, both their smiling faces staring back at you — almost mocking the situation you had gotten yourself into. 

What had you done last night? 

You groan softly, as the memories come back to you, as your hand clutches at your forehead, slowly sliding down, — the fight, the bar, the drinking, calling Sonny to get you and— your fingers brush your lips— 

Fuck. 

You kissed him — you had kissed Sonny. Flashes of it came back — you rocking forward to kiss him, his lips soft against yours, pulling away from you. Tears burned your eyes — congrats, you had somehow managed to blow up your life in so many ways in one night. 

You were the worst — the worst. 

Was this rock bottom? You didn’t know you could fall so far — to the point where you didn’t recognize yourself — drinking to forget, hurting the people who cared, and throwing it away for someone who didn’t even care. 

No more, you wiped your tears away, reaching for your purse, pulling a pen and notepad from your bag, this needed to end. 

You deserved more. 

You always did. 

You walk into your apartment, stepping inside to the sound of someone walking around, and you tense, your phone clenched in your hand, glancing around — and then you hear his voice. 

Breathless, he steps out from the kitchen, and he whispers your name in the silence of the morning. His arms around you in a moment, your arms at your sides“I’ve been calling all morning — I came here and you weren’t here, I thought something had—” he breaks off, seemingly able to breath again, but you couldn’t — you never could with him. 

“What are you doing here?” you whisper, breaking away from him, taking several steps back. 

“What do you mean? I called you — i couldn’t find you—” 

“You don’t need to find me — it’s over,” your voice broke, crossing your arms, “leave.” 

And his eyes are drawn to your sweatshirt, hanging low on your body, and his eyes narrow, “Were you with someone else?” You blink, realizing you still had Sonny’s sweatshirt on from last night, “were you cheating on—” 

“Cheating?” you bark out a laugh, raising your eyebrows, “cheating on who? On what? We’re nothing to each other, Rafael. It was true last night, and it’s true today.” 

“This isn’t nothing — we aren’t nothing,” he shakes his head, “what do you want? Do you want a relationship? Tell me, I’ll do it.” 

“I want you to leave,” you swallow thickly, “It’s over, Raf, we can’t do this anymore.”

“I’m telling you I’ll do anything—” he whispers your name in the silence of your heart breaking, he steps forward and you step away — the gap between you a chasm, a lake made of your own tears, “I love you.” 

You shake your head, tears slipping down your cheeks, “No, no—” 

“I do,” he pleads, “I do, mi amor.” 

“You love me until you don’t,” you meet his gaze, emerald eyes shiny with tears, “I can’t do that anymore — I need more, I deserve more.” 

He wipes his tears with the back of his hand, “This is it?” 

“It is,” he steps forward, and you don’t step away this time, his warm cupping your cheek for the last time, your tears rolling over the knuckles of his fingers. 

“Can I kiss you goodbye?” he asks — and you squeeze your eyes shut, nodding. His breath is warm against your lips, his touch comforting and familiar. Your lips meet — he feels like home, his arms around your waist, splayed and lingering as if they never wanted to leave — and you didn’t want them to. Your lips part and meet over and over, until you think he’s stolen the very breath from your lungs. Your fingers fisted in his shirt, and you don’t know if you want to push him away or pull him closer. 

You pull away — and it takes everything in you, a sob stuck in your throat — your foreheads brushing, and his hands reach for you as you pull away, but you brush past him, “Please go,” your back to him, you don’t watch him leave, instead hearing his footsteps against the floor, the door creaking open, and a pause. 

“I’m sorry, mi amor.” 

And the door clicks shut, and you sink to the floor, your back to the bottom of your couch, as you cry silently. 

You were too. 

Sonny wakes up to the sound of a door closing. 

He curses under his breath, throwing off his blanket haphazardly. He nearly trips over himself trying to leave his apartment. But his stumbling was not fast enough to catch you — already long disappeared down the stairs of his apartment. He walks back to his room, finding his bed made with wrinkled sheets — the same ones you had kissed him on — a note in your place: 

Sonny, 

I’m so sorry. I was in a bad place, I wasn’t myself, but it’s no excuse for how I treated you — making you pick me up, take care of me, and kissing you — and everything in between. It was a mistake. I can’t change what I already did, but I’m sorry for everything — and I won’t burden you again like that — ever. 

‘It was a mistake.’

Sonny stares at the note — finger brushing against the wet splotch on the paper. And he couldn’t help but think there was another door that closed last night — and he wondered if there would ever be another chance. 

There was a sharp knock at Rafael’s door, and Jack McCoy stuck his head in, “Counselor, do you have a minute?” Rafael barely looks up from his work — his late start and no sleep did him no favors, he was already buried in work and you were in motions hearings all morning on top of it. 

Not that he wanted to see you anyway — not after this morning. 

All night he had waited for you — he called, he texted, he left voicemails — he did everything but send you a fax. You always teased him that his propensity for sending a fax made his age show — and he always replied to that with a kiss and a grin with a promise to show you that with age came experience. 

And now he would never kiss you again. 

He looked for you too — he spent hours pacing his apartment until he couldn’t take it anymore — and he started to look. He checked with your friends, he looked in at the office, and he finally checked on your place. You had given him a key before — for emergencies — but usually it was for late nights he would crawl in beside you, his arms curled around your middle. And you would lean into his touch, a sigh on your lips, even as you slept. 

And now he would never sleep next to you again. 

“Rafael?” McCoy asked, and Rafael snapped from his stupor, rubbing his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t sleep well last night,” he leaned back away from his work, clearing his throat, “what was it that you needed from me, Jack?” 

“I just wanted to inform you that your A.D.A. has resigned with a week’s notice,” and he blinked, his heart slowly caving in upon itself, “I allowed as such since I figured with the case flow, we should be fine for a week with a man down, but if you need any help, please let me know and I”ll have another A.D.A. assist you.” 

He nods, dumbstruck, as Jack turns to go, “Wait, Jack,” he looks back, “was there a reason given?” 

He offers a sad and knowing smile, “Needed a change, new opportunities — a need to grow,” he slips his hands into his pockets, “everyone does, son.” 

“Of course, thank you.” and there he knew —  he knew that you had outgrew him. 

And it was his fault. 

It doesn’t take long for the news to spread across SVU — and you’re careful to drop by on a day that Sonny won’t be there, shame still lingering in your chest about that night. You knew that you should face him — you knew you should talk to him, but you knew that it would only make things harder. And you didn’t want to do that to him. 

But mostly you didn’t want to do it to yourself. 

“We’re going to miss you around here, counselor,” Liv squeezes your shoulder, offering you a warm smile. 

“Won’t be the same without you — who else is going to get that stick out of Barba’s ass?” Fin asks, and you chuckle, but his name carves another fresh wound into your skin, lingering just as his touch did, “but seriously, you ever need anything—” 

“I’ll take you up on that, Fin,” 

“Seriously, anything you need,” Amanda smiles, and you nod, biting your lip. 

“Could you actually do something for me?” you hold up a bag, “can you give this to Sonny? He lent it to me the other night at the office.” 

Amanda frowns, “Don’t you want to tell him goodbye yourself?” 

“I will, but I just want to make sure he gets this back first, before I forget,” you lie — and you hope she can’t see through it, see through you, but it feels like everyone can — skin rubbed raw from the last week, red and exposed and fragile, “please?” 

“Of course,” she takes it without another word, but you can still feel her watching you as you leave the precinct for the last time, hands in your pockets. 

It’s a large change — new job, new place, and new borough. And it takes some time. 

You find another job relatively easily — the alumni network at your alma mater and your experience as a prosecutor makes it simple for you to step into place at a boutique defense firm in the Bronx. It’s as natural as a transition as you can hope for. 

Your colleagues are kind, guiding, helpful — and your work is different, but familiar — a different view of the same picture with a distinct goal of making the government uphold its burden and to hold the phrase, “innocent until proven guilty” with conviction — and hopefully without a conviction for your clients. 

When the news broke, it didn’t take long for you to hear the whispers and it didn’t take long for the whispers to become an outcry.

“Did you hear about the Manhattan A.D.A. on trial?” a first year associate asked another, and you freeze, your head snapping over, blood running cold. 

“What happened?”

~~~

“Jack McCoy,” 

“Jack, what the hell is going on?” you hissed in your office, shutters shut and door closed, “I just heard that—” 

“That Rafael Barba is on trial for murder? You heard right,” a hint of a sigh in the back of his throat, “I had no choice — my hands were tied.” You knew he didn’t — your anger receding, the office can’t be seen giving him any favor. He needed to be treated like anyone else — but he wasn’t just anyone else, was he? 

Not to you.

Your mouth was dry, “What happened?” 

Jack explained — everything — the parents, the baby, the hospital. Two parents caught between an impossible decision about their child now deemed to be braindead, and a mother who wanted nothing more than her child to be at rest. But she wasn’t the one who did it. Rafael did, against the father’s wishes. And now he was going to trial for murder. 

Even as Jack explained, your words kept echoing in your ears — “you’re too busy saving the rest of the world.” 

“Does he have representation yet?” your mind raced with images of him in jail, the ostracization, the media outrage, the shame — fuck. 

What the hell were you thinking, Rafael? 

“Not to my knowledge, but you can’t—” 

“I know I can’t,” you scoff, “but I know someone who can and will,” you scrolled through your contacts, finding the one you were looking for, “Is he okay?” you asked softly. 

“As well as he can be,” you could almost see Jack frowning, “I don’t wish to see anything happen to him, but no one is above the law, you know that.” 

“I know, but I also know him—” and despite everything — the pain, the heartbreak, the anger — you knew he didn’t deserve this, “and I know I can’t let him go to jail.” 

“I know,” he warns, sighing, “I want the same result as you, counselor, just tread lightly.” 

“I will,” a shay sigh escapes your chest, and you swallow the lump in your throat, trying not to let your voice break, “will he be okay?”

He gives a bitter chuckle, “After this many years of doing this, you would think I could predict what a jury will do — but I don’t know. Juries surprise you and that cuts both ways. And I hope this time it cuts the way we want it to.” 

“Thank you Jack, for everything,” 

You can almost see him smile, “Of course, anytime.” 

And now there was one more phone call you needed to make — the phone only rang twice before he picked up, “Regretting your wrong choice in workplace already? Only after, what, a few weeks? I think that’s a new record in job changes, counselor.” 

You snort. Randy Dworkin never changed, did he? “I told you, Randy — your firm is too much of a boys’ club for my taste.” 

“But I know you play rough, and this is more a roughhouse than a boys’ club — you’d dominate them all in a moment, and we’d be nothing but your humble servants.” 

“And here I thought you saved the theatrics for the courtroom,” you hear him give a small gasp. 

“You wound me, counselor. And another thing, if you’re not calling to tell me you’ve changed your mind, then you must be calling for a favor. And as one of your old mentors, let me remind you of an old adage — you catch more flies with honey than vinegar,” you shake your head. 

“It’s not exactly a favor,” you pinch the bridge of your nose, “Let me start over — I need you to represent a former colleague of mine.” 

“And this is not a favor, how?” 

“Because this is a case you’re going to definitely want your name on.” 

“If you don’t want to represent me, that’s fine,” Rafael was beginning to regret taking this meeting — even with half the defense attorneys in the city ducking his calls, maybe he would be better off defending himself pro se-- 

“I don't wanna represent you, I have to represent you. Cases like this wet my whistle, so to speak,”  Dworkin explained, sighing, as Rafael raised an eyebrow, “So, what did the little bastard do to you?”

--And he was becoming more sure with every passing second. 

“This was a mistake,” but Dworkin waves him back down.

“Okay, okay,” Dworkin backs off, looking all too pleased with himself, “I’ll skip the self-defense angle,” and Rafael found himself reluctantly sitting back down. Randy Dworkin may be smarmy, he may be endlessly irritating, but he was good at his job, better than good — as much as Rafael hated to admit it —  and he needed help. 

“I’m sorry I wasted your time, Mr. Dworkin,” 

“Randy,” he corrects, “And my point is this whole thing is a sick joke. You killed something that nine out of ten doctors would say wasn't alive.” 

“And what about the tenth doctor?” and that was the thought that haunted Rafael the most — he knew the smallest chance may be enough to convince a jury — it was enough to convince him he was guilty. No one was above the law, including him, guilty in his own eyes — in the eyes of the same god his mother had raised him to believe in. 

And yet here he sat. 

“Look, you wanna prove a point, and I wanna prove a point. It's what my nana would call the perfect shidduch,” Rafael raises an eyebrow, growing more weary of this conversation with every second. 

“What point do you wanna prove?”

“That the government's power has grown too damn much. That the bigger the government gets, the smaller it leaves the individual. That once the government takes away our right to die, it takes away our right to live,” he looks self-satisfied, leaning back in his seat, “How am I doing so far? 

Rafael’s jaw is set, “Well, for defending a murderer, not bad,” and Dworkin raises an eyebrow, shushing him dramatically. 

“Let’s keep that self-sacrificial guilt locked up, okay? Save it for your religious leader of choice,” Dworkin leans in closer, “I know you put in calls for defense attorneys — I know you don’t want to go to jail, and I know other people don’t want to see you take the fall for this.” 

“Other people?” he raises an eyebrow, and Dworkin seems to bite his tongue in the moment, a flicker of interest crossing his face, “did someone refer this case to you?”

“It’s not exactly a low profile nobody case, Barba — the story is splashed across half the tabloids and all over the news—” 

“But you just—”

“Let’s focus on getting you off first,” Dworkin tilts his head, “or did you forget that you’re on trial for murder?” 

Rafael wrinkles his brow, the question still nagging at the back of his head — a question mark at the end of a paragraph that lingered like an unspoken taboo he couldn’t place — but, Dworkin was right — right now, he couldn’t waste time. 

Time that he really didn’t have. 

“You didn’t tell me when I took this case that I was getting in between some doomed office relationship you conveniently failed to disclose before,” you didn’t realize this lunch Randy had invited you to involve an ambush — but you should have — it was Randy Dworkin. 

“I didn’t see how that was pertinent,” you shrug, picking at your food, “and it wasn’t a relationship.” 

“Puh-tat-o, puh-tat-toe — it’s still a cow if it moos, no?” he snorts, shaking his head, “it’s only pertinent when I almost let it slip that you were the one that referred the case to my attention.” 

That gets your attention, head snapping up, “And you?” 

“Masterfully avoided the question — I have excellent evasion skills — the fact that I never had a career in the C.I.A. should be criminal,” he looks up from his food, a shit eating grin on his lips, “It wasn’t hard — he has a lot more on his mind right now.” 

“I can only imagine,” you murmur, your brow wrinkled as you stabbed a fry with your fork, appetite woefully gone. 

“Your face will freeze like that,” and you scoff. 

“And yet I’ll still look better than you,” he laughs at that. 

“I always told you that you should have come and worked for me out of law school, instead of going to the D.A.’s office,” he wipes his lips with his napkin, “maybe you wouldn’t have fallen for this schmuck—” 

You raise an eyebrow, “He’s not—” 

“Still supportive? Even after the way he treated you—” and you gape at him, “you know that rumors get around — the community is small and people talk as much as they listen — it’s an incesteous cesspool of heathens,” and he gestures to you and him, “look no further.” 

“Speak for yourself,” you grumble, cheeks burning, “I’m sorry what rumors?” 

“You don’t need to know, kid,” he shakes his head, “my question is more focused on the present — why do you still care?” 

“Because he doesn’t deserve to go down for this—” 

“And he probably wouldn’t either way, but why do you care?” 

“I don’t know, okay?” you snap, “I wish I did, but I don’t. But despite everything that happened — I don’t want to see him suffer. I don’t want him to go to jail,” your voice cracks ever so slightly, and Randy frowns at you, expression unreadable, “Call me an idiot, but I care — I can’t help it.” 

“Most times that’s an asset, counselor,” he leans forward, elbow on the table, “as long as you don’t let anyone take advantage of it — not again.” 

“I won’t,” you say softly, as the waiter comes over to hand over the check, helping to pack up the rest of your food to go,  “I never thanked you for taking the case.” 

“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” he smiles, handing over the server book, “you’re picking up the check.” 

“On the sole count of the indictment, murder in the second degree, we find the defendant, Rafael Barba — not guilty.” the foreman announces, and relief floods Rafael, all the same time that guilt does — the two emotions irrevocably tied — lifting him up and dragging him down — a balloon and an anchor. 

Dworkin claps him on the shoulder, “Congratulations, counselor, and you’re welcome. My bill is the mail.” 

“Thank you, Randy,” he shakes his hand, “really, I—” 

“Spare me the speech, okay? I appreciate it, but I was doing my job, just like you did yours,” he offers him a smile, “and besides there’s someone else you should really be thanking.” 

He frowns, “Who?” 

Your name leaves his lips, and Rafael blinks, “How the case got referred to me? That’s how,” he hadn’t heard your name in months, and yet the hurt of you leaving still felt fresh — a knife twisted in his gut, even as the flesh around it healed and scarred, the metal still stung the same as the day you left. 

Or rather, the day he made you leave. 

It was his fault — he knew that now. And maybe that was the point — to drive you away, to push you so far that there was no coming back. Self-destructive — self sacrificial just as Dworkin had called him — except he had sacrificed you instead of him. It should have been him — his fears, his worries, his walls — offered at the alter of your unconditional love. 

But he didn’t. He didn’t and he regretted it — but was regret enough? 

“Why are you telling me this?” and Dworkin shrugs, grabbing his briefcase with a sigh. When his gaze meets his again, it’s sharp as a jagged rock. 

“I don’t know honestly,” he licks his lips, “I still think you’re a schmuck, but I know certain other people don’t think so,” he sticks a hand in his pocket, “and if you do get another chance, don’t screw it up. Otherwise, there won’t be a defense attorney in town who will help you next time you screw up.” 

He leaves Rafael standing, dumbstruck. 

And what was he to do now — with his future open and empty, what was left and who did he want to share it with? 

And there was only one answer to that question. 

There was knocking at your door — incessant and irritating that forced you out of bed at 11:00 PM — the one night of week you were able to get to bed early. And part of you only hoped it was a murderer to put you out of your misery — but you knew even the murderers weren’t so polite as to knock. But then again, you could be surprised. 

But it wasn’t a murderer — at least in the eyes of a New York jury. 

It was someone much worse. 

And then it occurred to you — how did he know where you even lived— and then you groan, swearing silently under your breath. 

Fuck you, Randy. 

You lean back, head leaning back, staring at the ceiling, were you ready for this? Would you ever be ready for this? 

You unlock the door, opening it, “What are you doing here?” 

“Please, I know I don’t deserve it— I don’t deserve anything from you, but please let me talk,” his voice is soft, and fuck, it hits you in so many ways — his voice, his face, him — it’s overwhelming enough to hear him, but to see him here. It’s too much and not enough all the same — to see him and not touch him. 

But he placed this ravine between you, carved it with the shards of your heart, filled it with your tears, and it was his job to scale.

And it wasn’t your job to make it easy. 

“You don’t deserve it,” you wanted him to slip on the slippery crags of rock, you wanted him to cut his hands on the sharp edges of your bitterness, “so why should I listen?” 

“Because I love you—” and you scoff, “I know I don’t have any right to say that, but please, let me just talk,” and you know he’s not going anywhere, and despite yourself — despite not wanting to give him the chance he had for months and for years — you wanted to know, you wanted him to explain. You grit your teeth, stepping aside, shutting the door behind him, arms crossed. 

“You have two minutes,” 

He clears his throat, “First, thank you for sending Dworkin my way, I don’t think I would have gotten off—” 

“I didn’t let you in to be thanked,” you cut him off, “what do you have to say, Rafael?” 

He wavers for a moment, “I love you, mi amor, and I know I don’t get to say that or call you that, but I do, I really do,” his voice breaks, “I know I don’t deserve you — I think I knew that from the start, and maybe that’s why I didn’t treat you right. It’s not an excuse—” 

“And yet it sounds like one—” 

“I was wrong — I took you for granted, and I will spend the rest of my life making that up to you if you give me the chance,” Rafael steps forward, dropping to one knee and your breath catches in your throat. 

No. No. He wasn’t— 

“I love you, mi amor — from our first kiss I was lost in you already — so much so that it scared me — afraid if I lost you, I would lose myself too. I know we both put away criminals for a living, but I was never scared of dying — I was scared of losing you.” he shakes his head, “But it doesn’t scare me anymore. It doesn’t scare me because losing you was the worst thing to ever happen to me. And I don’t want to ever lose you again.” 

He pulls a ring from his pocket. 

Time slows as you stare at it — wondering if you blink that it would disappear from between his fingers. It still somehow glinted in the low light of your dimmers — as shiny as his eyes were as he gazed up at you. 

You had dreamed of this moment — far too many times — a time where Rafael would come around, finally see you for who you were, find the worth in you like the way you saw it in him. A sweeping moment where he would be down on one knee, asking for your hand, and it would be simple and perfect — but nothing is ever perfect. And nothing is ever simple. 

You cover your mouth, “Wh—” 

“Marry me,” he says, whispering your name with the reverence you had always wished he would, “I got the ring from my mom — she already gave us her blessing — she said I was an idiot for letting you in the first place.” he offers a weak smile. 

“Raf—” 

“Just let me finish, before you make a decision,” he licks his lips, eyes glassy, insistent in his words, as if he was hanging his life on each one, “Come away with me — we can start over, away from politics and baggage — find a place somewhere outside the city. You always said you wanted to open your own practice someday, have a family. We can do that, you and me together,” he builds this perfect life from scratch — and you see it — you saw it before: a house in the suburbs, a picket fence, and a family — you and Rafael, your hands intertwined, together, “We’ll make a home, I’ll find a job without crazy hours, we’ll go on dates, I’ll help you open your own practice. We’ll be together, like before—” 

“But we aren’t together, Rafael— we haven’t been for months,” 

“I know, I know—” 

“No, you don’t,” you step back away from him, scrubbing your hand down your face, “this isn’t a movie, you can’t break my heart and come back months later telling me you made a mistake.” 

“Mi amor—” 

“No, no ‘mi amor’ — not when you played with my feelings for years, not when you said no at every turn, not when you dropped my heart like it was glass and crushed it beneath the heel of your shoes,” you spit back, “I called Dworkin because I didn’t want you to go to jail — nothing more, nothing less.” 

You hear his heart breaking, “I love you—” 

“I don’t,” you don’t let him see the tears falling from your eyes, “I can’t do this again. I can’t uproot my life for someone who could change their mind tomorrow. You had your chance. You lost it.” 

“Don’t say that,” 

“I did,” you wipe away your tears, you’ve cried enough for him, “it’s over. I don’t know what else will make it clearer to you.” 

“Look at me, please, look—” and you whirl on him, and you see him on his knees still — “Tell me you don’t love me — say that you don’t. And I’ll leave.” 

“I don’t love you anymore, Rafael,” and you wished that your words were truer than they were — that those words didn’t hurt as much to say as they were to hear. But they did and they were. You wanted to hate him, you hated to have no inch of remorse, but feelings were always two fold — and with anger came passion, with sadness came joy, and with hate came love. And the lines blurred until they were no more. And as much as you wanted to hate him — you knew you didn’t. 

But you had to say that you did. 

Because you couldn’t do this again for him to change his mind again — your heart couldn’t take that. You didn’t deserve to take that. 

And there was nothing left to be said. 

He slowly rises from his knees, tucking the ring into his pocket, along with the broken pieces of his heart. 

You should let him leave without another word, you should let him leave without having to look at your face, you should let him leave — but a part of you doesn’t want to let go, a part of you doesn’t want to believe this will be the last time you see his face or hear his voice. 

But still you ask, “Are you leaving New York?”

He nods, “I am — I can’t stay here.” 

“Where are you going?” A part of you wonders if he’ll just ignore you, rush out of the door — let you wonder about his plans, wonder about him — but you know you’ll do that anyway. 

You find him softly smiling, unable to quite meet your gaze, and he steps towards you, slowly, allowing you the time and space to step away — but you don’t, you can’t — not when this may be the last time you can touch him — but it was your choice to have this be the last time. 

“I don’t know,” he replies, leaning forward slowly to press a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering only a moment, his fingers brushing your cheek, “but you don’t need to worry about that. Goodbye… mi amor.” 

“Goodbye, Rafael,” you whisper, unable to watch him leave — not again.

[willowbird]

can we get an Aaron POV of him beating the abuslute shit out of Jack in the locker room. i’m talking about slamming this boys head into the locker beating, he need kevin, matt and nicky to get aaron to stop and even then he still struggling to get more in till andrew comes into his vision. show me that same aaron from that secne in thanksgiving!!!

I am so SO sorry it's taken me so long to answer this!! Work was getting hectic and I was working on something else BUT now I'm for sure gonna get through the rest of these asks ^.^

Aaron losing his shit on Jack, huh? Well, we can sure do that ^.^ 

I changed a few things from your prompt just because as I was sitting down to write it made the most sense to me that if Aaron was gonna go after Jack it probably wouldn’t be about Andrew or Neil. Neil and Andrew take care of themselves, more or less, and if they can’t then they’ve got each other. Not that Aaron wouldn’t beat the ever-living shit out of Jack for doing or saying something to Andrew, but he just probably wouldn’t have to -- if only because Andrew doesn’t care enough about Jack to be affected by him. 

Nicky on the other hand...? Well, I’m a bit soft for the twins being protective of Nicky.

Warning for violence, depression, mentions of suicidal thoughts, triggering language. Take care of  yourselves.

----

“Jesus fucking Christ. That was the most pathetic excuse of teamwork I’ve ever seen in my goddamn life, and this is my sixth year coaching this fucks-forsaken team.” Coach Wymack had just spent the last twenty minutes ripping all of them brand new assholes. They were all tired, they were all angry, and they were all ready for this day to be fucking over, but it wasn’t over until the Coach had had his say, so here they were -- sitting in the locker room, getting chewed out again. 

Not that they didn’t deserve it. Aaron knew they did.

It had been a brutal fucking loss. The Foxes trashed by some half-cocked team from Alabama. Even with Andrew actively trying to block the goal, there was only so much he could do when the other team’s offense kept breaking through their defensive line to swarm the goal. Matt was off the court with an injury, which meant the only backliners they had were Aaron, Nicky, and Keith -- the freshman backliner who still couldn’t figure out how to fucking pass to a moving target. 

Aaron cared less about the loss than he did about the cause for it, and not for the same reasons as half the rest of the team. 

Nicky had been all thumbs and no energy tonight, but that hadn’t been a surprise -- not to Aaron or any of the rest of the monsters. Nicky had been off for a few days, his usual chatty, chipper demeanor whittled down to strained smiles and shrugs in a way that the rest of the team had never seen before. Well, most of the rest of the team. Aaron had seen this before. Andrew had too. Neil and Kevin hadn’t witnessed it directly, but by now the other two “monsters” knew Nicky well enough to know this other side of him existed even if they hadn’t seen it. 

So yeah, he’d gone into this game knowing it was going to suck -- knowing that they might lose. Maybe that had been their mistake. He, Andrew, Kevin, and Neil had been distracted -- torn between concern for Nicky and the need to cover for him. The freshmen had been a nightmare about it and what the fuck even was teamwork. At halftime, the commentators had called it one of the worst performances by the Foxes in three years. 

Yeah.

But at least it was fucking over, right?

“Now get showered up and get the fuck outta my sight. I don’t want to see a single one of you fuckers until tomorrow -- yeah, that’s right, we’re having Saturday fucking practice thanks to that sorry excuse of a game you pissed all over tonight.” Coach glared at all of them in turn. “By tomorrow I expect Nolan and Fisk to get their heads out of each other’s ass and Hemmick?” The big man’s gaze landed on Aaron’s cousin and he felt himself go stiff. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Andrew stand up from where he was leaning against the lockers. 

“Learn how to be a little less fucking useless. I don’t know what the fuck has been up with you the past few days but get it figure the fuck out. You hear me?”

The first pulse of genuine rage ignited in Aaron’s veins. His hands curled into fists and his vision narrowed. Nicky’s quiet, tightly muttered, “Yes Coach,” was partially drowned out by the dull roar in his ears. 

Anything he might have said or done was stymied, however, by Andrew, who slammed his fist against the lockers, drawing everyone’s attention away from Nicky and onto him. 

“Coach, I think we need to chat.” By whatever magic Andrew had over everyone that made everyone automatically take him more seriously than anyone else, he had Coach’s attention, just like that. The man snorted then jerked his head toward the door.

“Fine, but make it quick. I need to try and block out what just happened.”

Coach and Andrew left the room. For a minute, there was a tense, weighty silence, then someone whined and someone else bitched and normalcy returned -- well, normal for a really shitty fucking day anyway. The women split off to their changing room to shower and get ready, and several of the guys did the same. 

Nicky remained seated, staring blankly down at his hands, shoulders slumped in utter defeat. That anger curled in Aaron again -- not at Nicky and not at the fucking game, but at Coach and the team for being so fucking stupid, and at himself for not knowing what the fuck to do about any of it. Nicky’s depression was an open secret among their group. It was something they all knew of but never talked about. This was probably the worst episode he’d had in years and Aaron just felt... fucking powerless. 

When they’d noticed it, they’d closed ranks around Nicky as a group and shut out the rest of the team in a way they hadn’t done since the cousins’ freshman year. None of them were soft enough to take care of Nicky in the way he probably needed, but Andrew drove Nicky to Reddin Thursday morning and Aaron and Neil joined forces in helping Kevin hold his fucking tongue during practices when Nicky struggled to keep up with the rest of them. 

It was not gentle support, but it was all they had to offer.

It just... wasn’t fucking enough. 

“Jesus, Hemmick, are you fucking crying?” Aaron jerked out of his thoughts at the sound of Jack Nolan’s sharp, mocking voice. It was edged with a cruelty that went beyond the typical assholishness of the Foxes. 

“What, forgot how to fucking talk too? Wow, you really are useless aren’t you?” Jack continued when Nicky only flinched at his ridicule and didn’t rebuke him like he usually would.

“Hey, Jack, leave him the fuck alone. You didn’t do so great out there yourself tonight so why don’t you worry about yourself,” Matt barked from where he’d been sitting through Coach’s dress-down. He was wearing his jersey but since he hadn’t played tonight there was no need for him to have to peel gear off or shower. 

“Whatever.” Jack rolled his eyes like a petulant fucking teenager, but the look he shot Nicky was all cold predator. “Why don’t you do us all a favor and just go kill yourself?”

Even over the exclamation of Matt’s reprimand, Aaron still heard Nicky’s breath hitch. He remembered, vividly, the night two years ago when he and Nicky had been drinking and he’d asked him ‘How the fuck did make it through? We were fucking assholes, we are assholes, and you still stayed.’ He remembered not expecting the answer he got. He remembered Nicky looking down into his drink and saying, ‘I almost didn’t. Probably the only reason I didn’t try to off myself again was knowing that if I did, you two would go to my parents and I... I couldn’t let that happen. Didn’t care about me, but I could care about you. Caring about you guys kept me alive.’

He remembered the sick feeling in his stomach and the way that knowledge cut through his buzz, striking him sober with one fucking word: again.

Aaron did not make the decision to grab Jack, or if he did it was overwhelmed by the roar of the monster under his skin as it surged suddenly up from whatever dark place it had been lurking since that violent, bloody night last November. All he knew was that one moment he was standing there, and the next he had his hands on something that needed to shut the fuck up. 

He only vaguely registered the shouts around him as he dug his fingers into Jack’s shirt and whirled him around. Then the only thing that existed was the feeling of flesh and bone and the slick of blood against his knuckles as he drove his fists into every soft part of the body in front of him as hard as he fucking could. Jacks hands scrabbled ineffectually at Aaron’s shoulders, then his face, trying to hit him or grab his hair or push him off, but for all that Aaron was a small man he was a fucking backliner for a reason and he threw every single ounce of his muscle into shoving Jack into the lockers. 

A second later he was on him again, taking a fistful of his hair so he could slam his head into the lockers until the fucker’s knees buckled and he went down. 

All he could hear was the rumble of rage in his veins. There was no thought, no goal, no understanding -- not of anything but the raw, unfiltered hate pouring out of him as he followed Jack to the ground. Distantly, he knew there was shouting or screaming -- that there were words being thrown at him and hands desperately trying to haul him back. He felt the fingers curling around his biceps and tugging on his shoulders. But his wrath was far too powerful and each time someone got a grip he was able to wrench free and use that momentum to land another hit. 

At one point a solid arm wound around his waist and hauled him up and away. A sound like a feral animal ripped from his throat as Aaron thrashed wildly, trying to throw himself back onto Jack. The man had stopped moving at this point but there was a wet, raspy sound coming from him that still spoke of life and maybe Aaron hadn’t consciously decided to keep going until it stopped, but the drive was there all the same. 

The rest of the room was hazy around the edges, people were blurs of sound and color. The only thing in focus was the wheezing form of Jack fucking Nolan on the floor, and Aaron fought viciously to get back to him, jerking at the arms holding him back, kicking and trying to lash out with all his strength. 

Until something blocked his view. And it took a minute for Aaron to recognize what it was. To recognize who it was. 

“A-Aaron. Aaron. Stop. Please. It’s o-okay. It’s okay. I’m okay. S-stop...” 

The rest of the world snapped back into focus at the sound of Nicky’s gasped, broken words. Aaron stopped fighting so suddenly that he and everyone trying to hold him back stumbled. There were three of them, he realized -- Matt, Kevin, and Dan. Neil and Andrew were flanking Nicky, the three of them blocking his view of Jack’s prone, gasping form but not actually trying to stop him from killing him. 

Nicky was crying, his eyes wide and his hands trembling as he held them out in front of Aaron, pleading him to stop. 

Aaron took a few more heavy breaths and realized he’d been panting. He looked from Nicky to Andrew’s cool, appraising stare, then to Neil’s similar expression before finally glancing beyond them to the mess that might have once been Jack Nolan. When he dragged his gaze back to Nicky, all he said was, “He shouldn’t have opened his fucking mouth.”

Nicky made a strangled sound, something between a sob and a laugh. Then he did something he almost never did and launched forward, wrapping his arms around Aaron in a tight hug. In a reflex that Aaron didn’t even know he had, his arms snapped around his cousin and he hugged him back just as fiercely. 

As Nicky sobbed onto his shoulder, Aaron looked over his hunched form and met his brother’s gaze. There weren’t words that could translate the look they shared just then, but if he had to label it, it might have been something like understanding. 

[emotionalsupportshelby]

Hi, I'm depressed it's almost 1am and I'm gonna blog my Peaky episode watch:

Episode: Series 4 episode 3

Let's go

My dad said Paul walks like a ape, and it's, all I see now... Like with both arms at the same time

Michael gives me so many mixed feelings but it's cute that his, adoptive mum showed up in the hospital

Village Michael was the best Michael

Does the adoptive mum know it was Michael's decision not to go back? She's out here, blaming Tommy, like babe... Tommy wanted Michael to go, he refused

ADA MY BABY

Polly counting the days she's gone without a fuck 😭 legendary behaviour only, you go be with someone unsuitable ma'am, we rooting for you

Hi Ada saying "behave yourself" is lowkey fucking hot

You never behave yourself Pol you go down with legends

Only Cillian could rock Harry Potter glasses with that Haircut and I am here for it

I'll make a post on this, later but Tommy needs a, woman like Linda, a women who gets him away for the Buisness

Im not a fan of Linda but Kate is gorgeous 😍

Why is everyone in this cast so hot though

No but I had to watch the Arthur and Linda, sex scene with my dad 😭😭 there's others but this is by far the worst 😭 I hate every time we get there 😭

"keep his balls empty and his belly full" Linda's mum >>>>

I hate myself for thinking this but I wonder if Helens hair drastically changed to this shorter one because she was going through treatment..it looks similar to my aunts, who went through breast cancer so I'm like 👀

Probably not cuz it's years before but.... Who knows

The paint fight scene must have been so fun to film... I love watching it each time

"I'm here as a lover of theatre" Me introducing my theatre nerd ass

I alwaud forget how good Adrien is in Peaky... Season 4 is one of my least favourite seasons but Adrien kills it as Luca even though I dislike his character in general

Arthur he had a fucking vote because it was planned to have the vote Just because you were getting fucked doesn't mean that stops

Arthur... John shoulda killed his teacher... Its not on you it's on his dumb ass

Kates smile is GORGEOUS

Arthur and Linda are a toxic relationship on each end and I hate that neither of them are getting happiness

She's trying to help you get out of the life which is damaging you Arthur, don't go Bat shit at her

100% found out that I've developed a new crush on Kate just now...can't wait to rewatch with this knowledge

"you have a lot of enemies" no shit mate... No fucking shit

JESSIE BABY HOW I HAVE MISSED YOU

and your muppet dress

You cannot say that that dress don't look like it's got muppet on

Ti's the Muppet dress..

Okay I made a post on this before but Cillians subtle yet heartbreaking acting when Greta gets brought up is a hyper fixation every damn time I watch this episode... Here's, my gif from last time

He looks so broken and I can't explain how much I love his acting choice there... Whether he even knew he was doing it or not

I'm so angry Jessie isn't coming back next series 😭

Her and Cillian had so much on screen (for lack of better word) chemistry and I'm sad we won't get any more of it 😭

Greta is still Tommys truest love and possibly his ownly love and I will go to my grave thinking that

Jessie/Charlie deserves SO much more love than she got and I'm forever bitter about how dirty she was done

Cillians acting in this scene is heartbreakingly subtle yet beautiful and I'm in awe

Arthur firing the bullet, I'm not a HUGE Arthur fan but he needs to go and get therapy and find happiness

Lizzie is under appreciated as the woman who isn't with Tommy... She is so much more than Tommy's wife

"Tommy said yes, Arthur said yes"

"but did God say yes" - I love Polly 😭

Finn trying to be in charge, bby no

As someone who has been to Blackpool... That is the happiest look you will ever see... I stayed at a hotel there for a con and it didn't even have a fucking window... We were in a box... I feel Tommy had the same experience

Lizzie, Polly and Linda arranging a girl for Finn gives more proof that he's fruity 🍓

"nice women don't do that sort of thing"

"yes they do, look at you" - we love sweet Tommy one liners 🥺

Hi if tommy wants to take me to the docks Id love that because it's, precious as fuck 🥺

He is fully in his head fucking Greta here but its still a fucking sweet moment and I love it

HE PROMISED GRETA HE WAS GOING TO CHANGE THE WORLD GUYS I CANT 😭

The way he goes back to talking business straight after having sex 😭 boy, rest dammit

"I don't want it like that ever again Tom" cuz you are interested in the other gender?

This scene woulda been a great one for Finn to come out to Tommy and I'm bitter it didn't happen, Steven recognise he ain't straight dammit

I remember watching the scene where Polly 'betrays" Tommy the first time and being so fucking pissed 😂 Still lowkey stresses me the fuck out

I always think I dislike S4 until I watch it and then I'm like damn... What a masterpiece ✨

Top 3 thinks I've thought:

1. Wow Kate is gorgeous and I hate that I've ignored it this long

2. Tommys romantic side who has his guard down needs to be shown more

3. It's not gonna be the same without Helen, I just pray they do it respectfully 🙏🏻🙏🏻

Ahhh that was fun... Hope you enjoyed my commentary 😂

(it's now 2am...oops 🙈)

[your-eternal-muse]

How Could I Hate Her?

Heather Series Part 7

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Bonus! Readers Card Confession Part 6

Summery: When checked on by the team, Reader confesses her guilt ridden feelings

Warnings: Mentions and descriptions of depressive episode, light swearing, mentions of medication, but other than that? Nothing that I can think of?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Heather Carmichael, Spencer Reid x eventual Female!Reader

Words: 3.1k

A/N: Y’all.....it is almost 4:30 in the morning. I started writing this around 9 pm. I am committed and I have Criminal Minds to keep me company so its fine. Also, there is much needed fluff in this chapter. I also tried writing in 3rd person, because there were things I wanted to show that I wouldn’t have been able to if I didn’t. I hope you like it! I should have a bonus episode out later today at some point when I wake from the dead, so, enjoy! 

~~~~~

It had been two weeks.

Two weeks since anyone on the team had seen or heard anything from y/n.

“I stopped by her place a couple days after, to try and talk to her. I couldn’t even tell if she was on the other side.” Derek remarked.

Aaron, Derek, JJ, Emily, David, and Penelope stood in her office, talking about y/n, and how worried they were.

They all just got back from a case.

Spencer had immediately gotten called away from work by Heather, who claimed it was an emergency. None of the others truly believed it was.

“As icky as it makes me feel, I can check to see if she is still in her apartment, I mean. If the place where she lives has cameras, I can easily check to see if she’s left.”

She looks to Hotch for permission.

He nods his head in approval.

“Has anyone else tried contacting her?”

“I’ve tried calling, but it goes straight to voicemail. She turned her phone off.” JJ chewed at her lip, her mind traveling to the worst possible scenario. A scenario she wouldn’t let happen. Not again.

“Poor kid. I can’t even imagine what she’s going through.” Rossi’s voice is soft, and he leans back against the wall, eyes not really connecting with anything.

“I know Spencer has tried calling her a couple times. But by the look on his face, I don’t think he got very far.” Prentiss paces back and forth, trying to keep herself busy so she doesn’t go kick down y/n’s door herself.

They all knew. 

Derek couldn’t keep something like that to himself. And when he told the team, JJ stepped forward, and confessed that she knew. Spencer was in disbelief.

Y/n had come to JJ so often over the past couple of months, Will didn’t question it anymore. Y/n said watching Henry, and being around someone she doesn’t have to compete with helped.

She never really saw her smile like she used to, but JJ did see her relax, let her walls down. She thought y/n was getting somewhere. She was wrong. Some profiler she was.

“You should have seen her guys.” Derek had been the one to see her shut down before his eyes.

“She was shaking. She couldn’t stop crying, shaking. She was mortified that he had heard her. And then she just, stopped. She stopped shaking. The broken look on her face completely vanished. She didn’t say a word to me when she left. It was like she turned herself off.”

“Confessing your love for someone who then tells you they don’t love you the same can do that to a person.” Penelope says, typing away at her screens.

“No, it’s so much more than that.” JJ says, taking a seat in one of Garcias spinning chairs. “ Every time she would say something even remotely mean about Heather, or Spencer, she would shake her head, look up and smile. She shoves it down because she doesn’t want to be bothersome. That kind of burial of feelings can only end in an extreme.” JJ thinks back to every night, every tear shed at her house. How y/n would wipe her tears, shake her head and force a smile. 

“I’m in.” Garcia chirps up from her desk, pulling up video footage of a hallway. 

They all circle around, prying eyes eager to look inside the private life of their family, who is in desperate need of assistance.

“So, here she is, the day she left, about an hour after leaving the building.”

They watch the video as she walks down her to her door, tears streaming down her face. She takes her keys out, but before unlocking her door, she leans her forehead against the wood.

Her shoulders shake.

A collective sigh leaves all of them.

“And here I am fast forwarding a couple days.” People walk up and down the hallway, yet her door stays still. Until it opens. She taps a key and the video returns to normal, and a forlorn y/n exists, now clad in sweatpants and a cal tech sweatshirt.

“That’s Spencer’s sweatshirt.” JJ whispers, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Penelope fast forwards again, stopping it when y/n appears once again on the screen.

“Okay, she was gone for about, 2 hours and 43 minutes.” 

Y/n is holding two bags, one in each hand, though neither of them are very full. 

She disappears behind the door, and Penelope fast forwards again. Morgan can be seen a few times, but y/n doesn’t leave again.

“Oh my god. She left once, three days after and hasn’t been out since.” Penelope takes her glasses off, and wipes her face.

“Alright. We’re doing a wellness check. Y/n clearly needs some help right now, so help is what she is getting. Let’s go.”

The team all nodded, and off they went.

When they arrived, Hotch walked to the front desk, his badge already out. “I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner. We’re here to do a wellness check on y/n y/l/n in apartment 112.” 

The front clerk doesn’t question it, simply grabbing a set of keys and leading them down the hallway to an elevator.

Each person is in their own head, but when they appear outside of her apartment, their focus changes. It was about y/n now.

“Y/n, are you in there? Baby girl, can you let us in?” 

They stand and listen for a shuffling of feet or the sound of a chair, but nothing.

Radio static.

Hotch nods to the man, and he unlocks her door, allowing the team into her apartment.

It’s dark. 

That’s the first thing Derek notices as he walks forward. The second is how cold it is. 

The third is the glass breaking underneath his boot.

His eyes land on the pile of shards beneath him, and the move to the book laying on the floor, and the broken mirror which still stands on her wall.

He’s trying not to profile her, but it’s hard. 

She didn’t even want to look at herself.

The team walks through her apartment, taking in the abandoned bowls of half eaten food, the empty liquor bottles and faint smell of cigarette smoke.

The path leads them to the living room, where y/n is curled up under a blanket on her couch beneath an open window. 

Derek walks over and shuts it, his heart aching at the sight before him. 

Y/n clutches a pillow to her chest, her grip tight. Unfinished chinese sits in front of her, beside an ashtray filled with buds. 

An empty bottle of medication lays on the ground next to her, and he prays to a god he stopped believing in years ago.

She’s mumbling in her sleep, and the team gathers around, varying versions of wet eyes.

Derek is the one to kneel beside her, and place a hand on her shoulder. He’s relieved when he hears her mumbles, feels the warmth beneath his fingers.

“Baby girl. Baby girl, I need you to wake up.” He knows she’ll feel cornered. He knows it’s a lot to wake up to. But he knows she needs this.

She stirs and her eyes open, cloudy and grey. They flick up to him and then around the room, taking in the sight.

She wants to cry.

She begins to move herself in a sitting position, and Rossi can’t help but notice how thin she’s gotten the last couple weeks. She looks tiny compared to Derek. He just wants to hold her, and never let her go.

JJ notices her lips are chapped, and the dark circles under her eyes. She turns and heads towards the kitchen for a glass of water. 

“What are you all doing here?” Her voice is hoarse. She hasn’t spoken in days, unless you count the incoherent sentences she sobs at three in the morning. 

Aaron wishes he had stepped in sooner. Her hands shake as she moves to brush hair out of her face. She was his daughter, even if not by blood. He doesn’t know how he couldn’t have seen this.

Emily notices the dry wet spots on her t-shirt, and the pillow that now rests in her lap. She bites her lip to keep her own tears at bay.

“Don’t you have more important things to do?” The words are laced with guilt and self-hatred. How can she possibly take them from a case that could be 10 times more important than her?

Derek runs a hand over her head, wishing he could take her pain away in the blink of an eye.

JJ appears with a glass of water.

“You’re family, y/n. We take care of our family.” Penelope falls to her other side, and grabs y/n’s hand, clasping it in between her own.

JJ moves a couple things on her coffee table, sitting down and handing her the glass of water.

Y/n takes it with her free hand, taking a sip from it.

“Sweetheart, when did you run out of medication?” Derek's voice is soft, it almost breaks near the end, but he holds out.

She sniffs, rubbing the back of her hand under her nose. “A couple weeks ago. They’re filled, I just haven’t….I couldn’t…” 

She hands the glass of water back to JJ. Her fingers start tapping her thigh.

“Talk to us, y/n. We’re not going anywhere.” JJ starts to cry, but she can’t help it. The situation in which her friend was in, was dark. It was deep. She’s been on the road to where she is for months, and JJ didn’t do anything.

Y/n thought for a moment. About lying, saying she was fine, that she was coming into the office the next day, that she was over it. But she was tired. Tired of running. Tired of lying.

“I love him.” Her voice is wet, flem and saliva coating each word as it leaves her mouth. The sentence isn’t louder than a whisper. 

She clears her throat, and grabs the glass back from JJ, taking a longer gulp.

Her head hurt.

No one speaks. 

No one moves.

“I love him.” The tears flowing down her cheeks are different from the ones she’s shed the past couple months. They’re warmer, more full. It relieves the stinging behind her eyes a bit.

“I love him, and I can’t help but tell myself over and over how much better she is than me.” She turns her palm over in between Garcia’s and clutches it with every fiber of her being. “Every bad thing I’ve ever thought about myself is ringing through my ears, in her voice.” She chokes on her sobs, and the room is filled with the months of feelings building in her chest.

“I hate her.” The words fall from her tongue and her chest falls. A weight has been lifted.

“I hate her, and I hate that I hate her. Why should I? She’s pretty, she’s accomplished, she makes him happy.” She looks up at Derek, eye’s pleading. “She is everything, and has everything that I can never have or be. And it kills me.” 

JJ takes the glass before it slips from her hands, and sets it down, mirroring Penelope and clutching y/n’s hand between hers.

Y/n leans into Derek, and he wraps his arms around her, pulling her in for a tight embrace, resting his chin on her head.

She cries and cries, and finally after months, she breathes. Her tears stop and she lets the oxygen fill her lungs and she breathes. 

For a moment, sniffles throughout the room are all that can be heard. And then Aaron speaks.

“Morgan, I think you should take y/n to go get her meds. A little sunlight and some time out of the house will do her some good.” 

She retracts herself from Derek, a slight pink returning to her cheeks. She nods. 

“And when you get back, I’ll help you shower.” JJ whispers rubbing her thumb over the back of her hand.

Another nod. 

Penelope and JJ let go of her, and she stands. 

Penelope notices that she’s wearing the same sweatshirt from the video.

Derek stands with her, one hand on the small of her back, the others holding hers protectively. 

“Where are your shoes sweetheart? I don’t want you cutting yourself on the glass.”

“They’re in the kitchen somewhere. I kicked them off and didn’t notice where they landed.”

“Okay. We’ll just be careful, okay?”

Another nod. 

The team moves as she does, not crowding her, but never being too far away.

Derek helps her get her shoes and coat on, and leads her out the door.

Once the door shuts, Hotch turns to the others. “Alright. JJ, Emily, start in her bedroom and bathroom. Laundry, bedding, the whole nine yards. Garcia, start in here. I would suggest going through her laptop to see if there's anything we should know about. I know you don’t like it, but in order to make sure she’s safe, we have to.” 

The three women nod, and Penelope is already grabbing the laptop that lay at the end of the couch. 

“I’ll work on cleaning the kitchen, and David,” He turns to Rossi, already rolling up his sleeves. “I’m sure she doesn’t have much food on hand, and she could probably use a home cooked meal.”

“Say no more. I’m on it.” 

~~~~~

The car ride to the pharmacy was quiet. 

I can’t say it wasn’t nice to get out of the house. I missed the light. 

It was early February, so pink and red hearts decorated the storefront in preparation. 

I hated the thought of valentines day during all of this. The thought of what he would be doing for her drove me insane. 

It still makes my heart ache.

“What’s going on inside that pretty little head of yours, baby girl?” 

I shift my focus, turning back to the driver's seat where Derek sat.

“Just thinking about how much I hate valentines day. It’s over commercialized and the guy who named it named it after himself, selfish prick.”

I see Derek chuckle. “That you are right about.” 

I let a small smile slide across my face, and for once it’s not forced. I know not everything will be better right away. I know it’s gonna take time. But still.

It feels nice knowing I’m not alone.

We arrive, and he parks.

We sit for a minute in the silence, and his hand reaches over and takes mine in his grasp.

“I want you to know, that you are a million times better than Heather could ever wish to be. And any dude who doesn’t see that isn’t as smart as he appears.”

He turns his body, so he’s fully facing me. “If you ever feel like this again, I want you to call me right away. Even if that voice inside your head is telling you it’s nothing, call me anyway. You’re not alone, y/n. And I will do anything and everything it takes to make you see that.”

I squeeze his hand, and nod. “I promise, Derek.”

“Good. Now let's go get you your medication.” 

I nod, letting go of his hand, and releasing the seat belt, and climbing out of the car.

The pharmacist greeted me with my name and a smile, handing me the white paper bag that held a refill that was long overdue.

Before leaving, my eyes caught something inside a soda cooler at the front. 

Derek stops and follows my eye. “What is it, love bug?”

I point to a purple bottle. “When I was a kid, and I had a bad day at school, or life just got to be too much, my mom and I would go to the movies, and watch the most cringy, bad looking movie they were showing. We would sit in the back and eat our weight in popcorn while making fun of everything. And she would always get a large grape fanta for us to share.”

He smiles, and steps forward, opening the door, and grabbing a bottle. “I think this constitutes a grape fanta than.”

It’s getting easier to smile at him.

He buys it, and we head back out to the car. 

We sit, and he waits until the pill is down my throat, followed by fizzy grape soda. It's tart and sweet at the same time, and I lick my lips of the stickiness.

The music is a little louder on the drive back.

When we enter the door, the first thing I notice is the smell. It smells like Italian, and the best Italian at that. 

I walk into the kitchen and I see Rossi, towel over his shoulder and wooden spoon in his hand.

He smiles when he sees me. “Ah, principessa, come. Taste. I know pesto cavatappi is a favorite of yours.” 

He ushers me forward, holding out the spoon with a bit of sauce on the end. 

I lean forward, capturing the end with my tongue. 

“Mmm.” I lick my lips, and chuckle a bit. “It’s really good.”

He smiles, setting the spoon down. “Good.” He wraps his arms around me, and pulls me into his embrace. He kisses the top of my head. “I love you, kiddo. Don’t you ever forget that.” 

I smile into his chest. “I won’t.”

“Good. Now go get cleaned up. Dinner is almost ready.”

I nod, setting my soda down on the counter, and walking through my apartment. 

It doesn’t even look like mine. It’s lighter and clean, and every shadow that played tricks on my mind are no longer there.

I look around at the apartment, taking note of how much was done in the time I was gone.

The broken mirror no longer hangs on the wall, mocking me. My couch is back to its original position against the wall, and my windows are closed, the curtains open, letting all the natural afternoon light in. 

My laptop is set up and a playlist of feel good songs is playing softly through its speakers. 

I can’t help myself. 

I start to cry, and I clamp a hand over my mouth, looking around at the room.

How could I have not seen this?

“Oh no, you’re crying. What is it? Can I fix it? What can I do? Tell me what I can do?” Penelope rushes over, her hands running over my arm. 

JJ, Emily, and Hotch enter at her exclamation. JJ is holding a fresh set of clothes for me.

“They’re good tears, Pen, they’re good.” 

The feeling in my chest is warm.

They move around me, hands coming to gently grasp at me.

“I just forgot that I have a family. I don’t know how but I did.”

Aaron smiles at me.

“And man does it feel good to be reminded.”

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[whocalledhimannux]

@peregrer the What. 👀👀👀 *insert John Mulaney gif of "say more right now"*

ok so when I say "the extent to which I've fleshed out the QT GBBO AU in my head is getting to be embarrassing," I truly and deeply mean it, please enjoy 1,900 words of utter ridiculousness.

first, our competitors:

Legarus - performs so poorly that viewers are a bit confused how he got on the show in the first place, a la Jamie (series 10) or that one guy who made a lime and chocolate cake in the first week.

Chloe - nice flavors and good ideas for decorations, but pretty sloppy. was up for elimination in the first week but came back with a great showstopper.

Melheret - good but not as good as he thinks he is (hence his bread week elimination because of sloppy technique), heavy-handed with the alcohol flavoring

Agape - solid competitor, not flashy but tasty + pretty results. I haven't worked out exact week-by-week themes (that would indeed be Too Much) but I imagine this is something like "Dairy" or "Caramel" or "Vegan," some particular element she just happens to not be strong on. viewers are disappointed by her early elimination

Teleus - Dad contestant. brings in a bunch of weird pans and gadgets he made up himself, does pretty well until it comes to Fiddly Foreign Foods he doesn't know (probably eliminated in French or Patisserie week)

Laela - typically has good flavors and pretty designs but technical knowledge is a bit lacking, so there are usually some flaws in the execution and she's often in the bottom half of technicals

Phresine - Grandma contestant. nails the classics but ultimately isn't creative enough to make it further.

Magus - the "Ian (series 6)" flavor of Dad contestant, often brings in foraged ingredients or eggs from his own chickens or whatnot and revives old recipes/flavor combinations no one else knows about. one week, some of those turn out to just be too weird, leading to his elimination.

Sophos - pretty elaborate decorations and good flavors (on the border of classic and new), but he tends to try a million different embellishments on everything and struggles with timing, occasionally to the detriment of technique.

Kamet - always has really interesting and different flavors and tends to do well in technicals especially, assuming he doesn't get overwhelmed. which is... an assumption (Finalist)

Costis - leans towards classic and indulgent flavors, although sometimes a bit sloppy--the kind of contestant where the judges look at his dishes and say "it's a bit of a mess" and then Paul Hollywood starts laughing because it still tastes delicious (Finalist)

Irene - absolutely stunning visually, queen of the technicals, occasionally gets the "style over substance" warning (Winner)

more details below the cut

I've gone back and forth on whether Eugenides should be in it but ultimately I decided no because I wanted to maintain a pre-show relationship between Laela + Kamet (I thought otherwise at first but then I realized I hadn't left Kamet any longterm friends or family for his finalist video and that's depressing af) and Irene and Sophos which to my knowledge hasn't happened once on the show so far? so having a married couple on top of that seems like it would be a stretch, and also then I think I'd need to make Eugenides the winner on principle and you know what? he can stand to be second fiddle to his wife for a little bit. My alternate backstory for him is that he was actually the winner of MasterChef one year (good with knives), so in the first episode Irene's first little chat to camera is something like "my husband's been bugging me for years to try out and I keep telling him he's got a skewed perspective on cooking competitions, finally I applied just to shut him up... and here we are." Her little video introduction is about how baking is a stress relief from her bigshot job. Her decorations tend to be abstract and gorgeous rather than cutesy.

Kamet, likewise, was nagged into applying by Laela, but she very cleverly framed it as she wanted to apply and wanted him to do it to for moral support. both were confident the other would get in and surprised that they did themselves. This is one of those series where everyone's friendships are immediate and obvious and super adorable (cast of series 10 my beloved...), and in particular these two are holding hands in episode 1. Laela's deep blue robe from TaT sticks in my head for whatever reason so I imagine her making an elaborate blue peacock cake or something one week that wins her star baker. somebody always does a peacock something and it's always impressiev.

Phresine is cool as a cucumber under pressure, always has lovely things to say about everyone else's bakes, and is the go-to last-minute helper because she usually comes in under the time. Irene starts out similar but as the weeks go by she starts to feel the pressure a bit more and cuts it a bit close. Sophos is the worst on timings, and mentions his wife at least once an episode. (I also played with him being single on the show and meeting Helen later through Irene and Eugenides, but this idea is too cute to pass up tbh.) Teleus lives with Relius, a fact that isn't mentioned until a few weeks in when he comments that Relius likes a recipe or gave him an idea for a flavor or something (Relius does not bake himself but will happily sample practice bakes), to the surprised delight of every viewer whose favorite contestant is the oldest gay in any given series (me, me, that person is me).

Costis tends to use a lot of chocolate and, as I said, pretty "classic" flavors--one of those people who makes a full English savory bake at some point. He's usually in the top half of the competition but doesn't get the top until one of the later weeks in the competition, which is a Honey themed week, and he absolutely nails it. The delicate decorations of his honey nut cakes and his use of honeycomb are particularly praised and that's the week he gets star baker. One of those bakers who flirts with elimination the first few weeks but noticeably improves over the course of the show.

My most, like, plot-y ideas are about Kamet (SHOCKER). I imagine he was born in Setra (I usually make Setra a non-autonomous region in my AUs) but arrived in Britain as a child due to [Unspecified Crisis] and ended up with foster dad Jeffa, who was roughly from the same region but not Setra itself; whenever Kamet wanted Setran food as a kid, Jeffa would take him to the library to find recipes and that was what sparked his love of baking. He's well-read on the subject and knows about foods from a lot of different cultures, so he's usually heard of the technical challenges even if he hasn't made or eaten them. He does a lot of fusion flavors, and is ALL ABOUT bread week.

I don't usually make the his-relationship-with-Nahuseresh-is-romantic leap in modern AUs but I think it works for this one because of the nature of the format--Nahuseresh doesn't actually appear on camera but is alluded to once or twice, ends up being Very Displeased that Kamet is doing something for himself, and during the week following Laela's elimination they have the fight that makes Kamet realizes this is actually a terrible relationship and he needs to leave now. He calls Laela to let her know what's up and mentions that, since he'll need to stay in a motel and has presumbly lost his job as a secretary (yeah working for your boyfriend is Bad, he's realized that now), he's going to have to drop out of the show. Laela, despite living in a studio flat without room to host him, immediately thinks "um fuck that" and calls Costis, and within an hour Costis and Aris and a few rugby buddies have moved all of Kamet's things into Costis and Aris's flat, where Costis insists that he'll squeeze into Aris's room (they've shared before, it's fine) and that Kamet gets first dibs on the kitchen for all bake off practices.

None of them actually reveal any of this to the show's producers. Kamet gets a little overwhelmed the following week and nearly walks away from the tent, but Costis jumps in to keep his bake from being ruined, and some soothing words from Irene + the hosts calm him down and he returns to finish. The only mention of the Drama comes in the finale, during the longer video clips they do on each of the contestants. Kamet is deliberately vague about the details of the situation, but Aris shows up in both Costis's and Kamet's videos and references the fact that having TWO flatmates in the bake off is a bit difficult because they only have a standard size kitchen, so he hasn't cooked for himself in a month and has been living off cake and savory breads. one of the hosts talks to Kamet in the tent after that clip is shown and he still won't talk about it in more detail, but says that he wanted to tell people so they could appreciate why Costis hasn't practiced as much the last few weeks (the judges scolded him for winging it a couple of times), and admits that he totally copied some of Costis's techniques for honey week based on watching him at home.

I imagine the finale task is something like an illusion cake--probably with a bunch of additional required elements because the show has been going bonkers with the finale showstoppers in the newer seasons--and Irene wins with a jewelry box containing, among other things, ruby earrings made out of candy. Kamet does a stepwell, and Costis does something architectural (I was thinking castle but something visibly Greek-ish so maybe a temple or a megaron? idk). Irene wins but they're all BFFs and that's obvious, so everyone's delighted for her. The little montage at the end reveals that Irene + Gen are expecting twins, that everybody hangs out all the time, and that Costis + co recently helped Kamet move into his own flat where he's now working on a novel (Immakuk and Ennikar inspired, obvi, leaning heavily on the honey-shared-on-the-road thing and including some recipes that actually work in the narration, albeit still written in an ancient-novel-like-way).

[Obviously not part of the show, but when Kamet mentions that it's time for him to look for his own place, Costis tries to v awkwardly invite him to stay forever and Kamet is like "nope I've got to try this on my own but yes we will go on a date once I've moved out and see how it goes from there."]

[This is so far beyond the scope of the show but also several of them go on to have more baking-related careers and have active social media presences and at one point they're all hanging out and Eugenides pulls out a camera and demands they all produce baking pick-up lines. Teleus refuses and also doesn't believe anyone knows baking pick-up lines off the top of their head or could make them up on the spot. Sophos sort of proves him right by coming up with "you're the apple of my pie," which Eugenides instantly mocks because Sophos's three greatest loves are baking, Helen, and poetry, and that's the best he can do? Helen comes up with "I like my cake the way I like my men--rich, sweet, and bright red," to which Sophos blushes on cue. Irene's is "when I'm with you, I feel like chocolate heated to 50 degrees--I struggle to maintain my temper." Eugenides protests this is more like an anti-pickup line. Irene insists this is the most accurate marriage-related baking pun anyone could ever come up with.

[Laela's is "You and I are like custard--I hope we never split." Kamet's is "You remind me of bread, because I knead you." Costis freezes for a minute and finally comes up with "Fancy a cream horn?" which produces a lot of giggling and makes Kamet slap his arm in such a way that, hen Eugenides posts this video to instagram, fans of the show all go WAIT ARE THEY DATING NOW] [by this point, yes they are] [I didn't even have to google baking pickup lines for this, guys, I legit came up with them on my own, please clap.]

am I obsessed? I might be obsessed

[i-just-want-more-yubel]

SO WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT JIM AND JUDAI REAL QUICK BECAUSE OH MY GOD BUT DO I LOVE THIS

this is also going under a cut tumblrs letting me do it again yay because its going to be a LONG ASS post. Mentions of mental health and self harm involved.

So while I wouldn’t say that Jim is Judais closest friend in the series not least for the fact that most of their relationship building happens in a handful of episodes and in flashbacks I would absolutely argue that Jim is one of Judais GREATEST  friends Which sounds like a contradiction so what does that even mean? If you have a CLOSE friend it’s someone you enjoy being around, but if you have a friend who's GOOD for you they’re someone who makes sure you're okay as well. They’re the friend who notices you’re going to far at the bar and makes sure you get home instead of letting you pass out on the road, They’re the friend who listens to you when you’re upset.  They’re the friend who takes the knife away when you’re hurting yourself.

In my opinion this is what Jim is for Judai.

Through the entire Supreme king portion of GX Jim is the one who has faith in Judai being able to get back to a good mental place - and not just has faith but actively works to make it happen though this is later picked up by O’brien.  This is opposed to Sho - who literally just stands around documenting Judai murdering people and calls it proof of caring in what might be the worst relationship advice I’ve ever seen with my own two eyes given by Judai himself. I am however also willing to give him some leeway here because again he IS cursed by that sorrow spell during this.

Not even Edo - who literally has experience with people he knows and is very close to being possessed by destructive forces - expresses much past curiosity and concern for Judai and suspicion for how fast the changes happen. He does participate in the intervention mission once it’s started however.  Honourable trash mention to Ryo in this bit for being arguably worse than Sho because he has no curse excuse and just vaguely judges Judai from a distance for his mental breakdown until the moment he dies. Stellar.

Back to Jim however the guy just flat out refuses to give up on Judai, telling O’brien when asked 

which might be my FAVOURITE reason in an anime ever to befriend someone - Jim didn’t need a shared spirit sight to connect to Judai, or an amazing duel to see Judais worth or some crazy world saving deed to consider him a valuable person, Jims Crocodile Karen liked Judai so Jim talked to him and decided he liked Judai too - for Judai this makes Jim one of only two people in the ENTIRE FOUR SEASONS OF GX that decide they like Judai just for Judais personality. (The other is Johan) I’m leaving out Yubel because we don't actually know very much about their first life and therefore how the friendship/literal undying love/soulmate thing they’ve got going on started.

Also interesting to me is the reaction Judai has to Jim being pinned by his advisors on the walls of the castle after accepting Jims challenge.

This guy just UP AND LEAVES

Giving O’brien the opportunity he needs to create an escape opportunity

and then tells his advisors to LET THEM GO all of whom seem very surprised by this choice - which considering this is the Judai that GENOCIDED AN ENTIRE MINI PLANE OF REALITY no shit they’re a bit shocked.

This is interesting to me because it implies that Jim and O’brien are mostly likely the first - and probably ONLY people the Supreme king ever makes the decision to let go - especially surprising when you consider Judai was specifically rounding up strong duelists and seemingly every duelist besides he could get his hands on to power super polymerisation. The argument could be made that Judai HAD super pol. at this point but he continues his campaign against the dimension regardless so I don’t think he’d have any reservations about wiping out two more people who clearly don’t agree with him a little sooner than the rest if they didn’t matter to him. Jim arrives back to duel Judai again pretty quickly after regrouping from the shock and not only does Judai arrive down pretty DAMN fast to answer him he doesn’t look happy about Jim being back to challenge him - his eyes overcast in the only moment I think we ever see of the supreme king doing anything but staring in irritation or dismissal at anyone.

Nearly every other time we see the supreme king he has the following or a similar expression on his face - his eyes are never hidden.

Jim also does something that I found significant and refuses to deny that what’s happening and who’s doing it is Judai - literally refusing to call him anything except Judai and acknowledging it’s his friend who’s doing these things while still wanting to help him

And then he jumps into Judais brain like he’s going to fisticuffs Judai’s depression himself and it’s FANTASTIC, all the while yelling encouragement at Judai not to listen to his own shitty self destructive thoughts and that he doesn’t need ‘darkness’ as a coping method.

^^^ the shitty thoughts

^^^^ Jim encouraging him

Jim then does something that is far from small, in fact it’s one of the best things you can do for a friend when they are really, truly a danger to themselves (and others)

Jim acknowledges that words alone are not enough and that it is time for action.

While Jim has been acting to help Judai all this time I honestly believe this is as close to physically intervening as yugioh and it’s whole “everything must be solved by dueling” premise can get. This is - in my opinion - the yugioh equivalent of dragging your friend to therapy. To pulling away the knife.

And we get what might be the craziest, most understated reaction in the entirety of GX -

-Jim gets through to him.

It’s only for a moment and as we all know it ends terribly, but I honestly think this is one of the most understated, underappreciated moments in GX - everyone talks about Judais relationship to Sho, to Johan, to Yubel and honestly all of that is valid - the oldest friend, the closest friend, and the most complicated relationship with the craziest pay-out respectively, but no one ever talks about the fact that Jim Crocodile Cook, the very sweet Australian boi, nearly talked Judai out of his tyrannical rampage with nothing more than the fact he cared about him.

I dunno, I just think it’s crazy that doesn’t seem to be a bigger thing in the fandom from what I’ve seen, Jim deserves a hell of a lot of recognition and it makes me honestly UPSET that they don’t do more with him after this.

[katahnisharma]

gone (4) | t.h.

Summary: tom is back from shooting cherry, but he’s not okay.

Warnings: this started as my entry to the lovely b’s writing challenge @worldoftom, but you guys were so amazing and wanted a second part. this is a very emotional chapter and there are mentions of anxiety, depression, and overall intense emotions so please be careful loveys ♡

A/N: hey guys it’s been a while but life has been really really difficult so i'm sorry for the wait! i'm not entirely sure if anyone still cares about this series so here’s hoping :) for this chapter i listened to light of love by florence + the machine and all good things come to an end by the og queen nelly furtado lol. also Tumblr apparently won’t let me link certain things so if you’re looking for my masterlist or playlist it’s in my bio ♡

IF YOU’RE STILL INTERESTED IN BEING ON MY TAGLIST PLEASE FILL OUT THE NEW FORM IN MY BIO BC I WILL BE REVAMPING IT!

gif by @hllands

“Hey, did I leave my notebook in the living room?” You asked, letting your tea bag soak in the mug Tom always saved for you. It was an unspoken rule, that dark blue cup with the constellations on it from his mother was yours only. You mentioned how beautiful it was once, and Tom remembered.

It went on the list with the others.

“You mean the one with the polaroid on the cover? No, it’s not in here.” Tom called back, scrolling through Netflix to find a movie for the both of you. He’d just come back from the junket for Spies in Disguise, and he immediately called his best friend over to spend the day with him.

Well, it was supposed to be more than just another day.

Because today he was going to tell you he loved you.

“Hmm, maybe I left it in my bag upstairs. I’ll get it when I’m done with the tea.” You said, setting your mug down on the counter. It looked like it needed sugar, so you rootled around for the little jar Tom kept in one of his cabinets.

“Don’t worry, I’ll go get it!” Tom said from the couch, his nerves beginning to make him jittery. He thought that while you were in the kitchen, picking a movie would help him calm down. But he couldn’t focus on any of the descriptions, and Tom could feel his heart beat faster and faster.

He needed to get up for a few minutes.

“Are you sure? Do you want me to pick the movie then?” You teased, knowing very well Tom hadn’t found a movie yet. It was a bit of a running gag, him never being able to pick a movie. You would bite your lip to stop from laughing when he eventually got frustrated and handed you the remote.

And even in his nervous state, Tom still grinned because of you.

“Yeah, yeah, like you’re any better. We’ve seen The Avengers twice!” He shot back, a smirk on his lips when he heard you scoff in the kitchen. Apart from your smile, making you jokingly annoyed was Tom’s favorite thing. He liked how cute you were when he teased you.

“Shut up and get my notebook, Tommy!” You laughed, and Tom felt his cheeks warm at the sound.

God you were so fucking perfect.

When Harrison woke up, he almost forgot where he was. But then his vision cleared and there you were, lying in the hospital bed. Harrison’s heart clenched at the sight, remembering the events of last night that landed you here with an IV in your arm. He sat up and stretched, the old wooden chair squeaking against the floor.

The sound was what made you stir, your mind waking up from the dream.

“Harrison?” You whispered, your eyes adjusting to the dim lights in the room. The hospital bed you’d fallen asleep in the night before seemed to glow next to you, but you realized it was just an IV hooked up in your arm. Harrison smiled softly, getting up and coming to stand by your side.

“Hey, you were out like a light.” He said, handing you the glass of water a nurse had brought. You gratefully brought it to your lips, feeling a little dehydrated from whatever fluids were in the IV bag. Harrison gave your free hand a squeeze before crossing to the windows, playing with the blinds to let some sun in.

“How long have you been here?” You asked, playing with the sheets mindlessly. Harrison thought about lying, telling you he’d only arrived a few minutes ago. Because he knew you’d feel bad about it, but you could always tell when he lied.

“Since last night. I stayed here, didn’t want you to be alone.” Harrison replied, and you frowned almost immediately. You felt bad enough that he’d driven you to the hospital on his day off, but knowing that he’d also spent the night sleeping in an uncomfortable, crappy chair didn’t help with the guilt.

“And before you say ‘you shouldn’t have’, just remember you would have done the same for me. So stop beating yourself up about it.” He said, going back to his chair. You winced when it made the same creaking sound, like it was about to break. Harrison noticed, and he couldn’t stop himself from laughing.

“But this chair was really unbearable.” He chuckled, and you finally smiled again.

“Shut up, you idiot.” You giggled, chucking a pillow at Harrison right as the nurse peeked in. You felt your face burn as she smiled at the two of you, Harrison picking up the pillow sheepishly and biting back a laugh.

“Glad to see the patient is feeling better. Can I get you anything, love?” She asked kindly, picking up the now empty class beside you. You smiled at her, shaking your head. You really just wanted to be discharged so you could leave, hospitals always made you nervous. The smell of disinfectant and the general sense of uncertainty were not your favorite sense overloads.

“No, but thank you for everything. Do you know if I’ll be able to leave today?” You asked, and the nurse nodded her head.

“You should be all set to be discharged in an hour. The doctor will check in on you in thirty minutes and then you’re all free to go.” She said, taking the pillow from an embarassed Harrison. You giggled a little when she fluffed the pillow, and returned it to your bed.

“Great, thank you again!” She gave you one last smile before leaving the room, and Harrison breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank god, I’m really hungry.”

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For Harry, last night would probably be one of the worst and strangest of his life.

After Tom broke down and sobbed into his shirt for two hours straight, he became so frenetic that Harry was afraid he would end up accidentally hurting himself. Tom tried to pack a suitcase to go after you, but he almost slipped in the shower and was so disoriented that he ran into the bedroom wall. Then he tried to cook something on the stove for Harry, but left the fire on while he got distracted trying to find your favorite cereal. Tom wasn’t completely all there, and it was pretty obvious to Harry that he was having some sort of episode.

So once Tom was focused enough to eat the banana his brother opened for him, Harry called his mother.

“Mom, I need you to tell me the name of that anxiety medicine. The one that sometimes works as a sedative.” Harry cast a glance at Tom on the couch, watching him slowly chew the banana with glossy eyes. He had been silently crying at odd times this morning, and it was definitely making Harry nervous.

“Why? Harry, what’s happened?” Nikki immediately sounded worried, running over to the medicine cabinet. She kept the anxiety medicine mainly for Harry, who used to have pretty severe bouts himself. The episodes became few and far between, until they stopped altogether.

But now Nicki was concerned Harry was having them again.

“It’s not for me, Mum. It’s for Tom. I think he’s having some sort of breakdown, and I’m afraid he might accidentally do something stupid and hurt himself.” Harry said, looking over his shoulder to see Tom staring at the banana, almost lifelessly.

“For Tom? Harry, please tell me what’s going on.” Nikki said, clutching the bottle in her hand nervously.  

“I think Tom and Y/N might be over.” Harry said, and the words had more weight than he thought they would. Like it was finally a possible reality, one where you and Tom weren’t together anymore.

“Okay, I’m on my way.”

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“Can you get in the car alright? Need any help?” Harrison asked, hovering over you as the two of you walked to the hospital parking lot. You rolled your eyes, smiling at his protective behavior. He’d been like this during your dischargement too, and it was sweet but definitely unnecessary.

“Haz, I told you. I’m perfectly fine, I swear. It really doesn’t hurt that much, and I can absolutely get into the car on my own.” You said, patting his shoulder reassuringly. Harrison sighed, biting his lip a little worriedly.

“Okay, okay, just making sure. I just don’t want you to aggravate the injury or anything. At least not until we get you home and set up.” He replied, and you couldn’t help it. You leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, watching Harrison’s mouth immediately drop open in shock.

“Hey! What was that for?”

“To thank you for being the world’s greatest div. I love you, idiot.” You said, laughing when Harrison slung an arm around your shoulder. He rolled his eyes at you, smiling playfully.

“You know I love you too, but you really didn’t need to give me that weirdass kiss.” Harrison chuckled, immediately ducking into the car before you decided to throw your purse at him. Scoffing, you got into the passenger seat and punched him in the arm.

“Ow! That hurt!”

“I’ll have you know my kisses are wonderful!” You giggled, clapping a hand over your mouth when Harrison started to fake cry and clutch his arm.

“If I agree, will you leave me alone?” Harrison laughed, starting the car and reversing out of the parking lot. You smiled wickedly, reaching up to ruffle his precious hair. Harrison recoiled instantly, whining at your little stunt.

“I take it back, I actually hate you.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Where is he?” Nikki asked, rushing into the living room. Harry jumped up and led her to the bedroom, where Tom was curled up in a ball. Under the covers, he was crying softly and clutching what looked like a sweater. It seemed too small to be his, and Harry immediately realized it was your favorite sweater. The one Tom loved on you because it was what you were wearing when both of you met for the first time.

“Tom? Love, look at me please.” Nikki whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed. She looked over at Harry and mimed a glass of water, which he left to get from the kitchen. Once they were alone, Nikki gently pulled the covers back. Tom lay there, tears streaming down his face and the front of your sweater soaked.

“She’s gone...” Tom whimpered, trying to pull the covers back over his head. He was completely spent, the possibility that you were really gone hitting him like a train. Tom had pictured the rest of his life with you, and now nothing seemed worthwhile anymore if you weren’t there beside him.

“Y/N? Tell me what happened, Tom.” Nikki said, running a gentle hand through his hair. Tom relaxed under her touch, reminded of all the times in his childhood that he lay in bed upset. Breakups, rejections, failures, his mother had seen them all. And she'd always been there for him.

“We got into a fight...a big fight….and I threw my phone….”

“At her? Tom, how could you do that?” Nikki gasped softly, and Tom’s eyes widened. He found the strength to sit up, looking his mother right in the eyes.

“No...no! I would never hurt her! I threw it at the wall and I locked myself in the bathroom. But….when I came out….she was gone and there was b-blood on the f-floor and...I think-I think I-” Tom couldn’t get the rest of his words out, and Nikki knew enough to envelop her son in a hug.

“It’s okay...it’s okay, Tom.” She sighed, holding her eldest son close. The whole thing was confusing, but if Nikki knew anything about your relationship with Tom it was that it had been the best one he’d ever had. You were kind, intelligent, and strong, exactly what she had always wanted Tom to have in a partner. But hearing Tom cry and work himself up meant she knew what she needed to say. Tom had to stop living in his head.

“Tom? I want you to listen to me, it’ll be okay.”

“But….she’s gone and I hurt her….I can’t ever forgive myself…” Tom sobbed, but Nikki was adamant she would speak and get through to him.

“Look, the past is the past, it’s not in our hands.  You have the chance to ask for her forgiveness, and explain what you’re feeling right now. Don’t let your past actions dictate the future, love. That would be a mistake, because I know Y/N. She loves you and she wants to be there for you. She’ll understand what you’re going through because she cares, that’s what a real partner does. They want the best for you because it’s you. You need to forgive yourself so that she can help you heal.”

“But what if she doesn’t w-want me anymore? I know I scared her….I never wanted to do that b-but she’s been hurt and left because of me….I’m afraid Y/N won’t love me anymore!” Tom cried, his body shaking a little. Nikki rubbed his back and took the water glass from Harry, who’d reappeared in the room.

“Darling, you have to try. You have to fight for the love you want. You don’t think your father and I have gotten angry with each other? We fight and that’s normal, but at the end of it all we come back to each other. I put my feelings aside and listen to him, and he does the same. That’s how it works, we love each other so much that I’ll forgive him and he’ll forgive me.”

Nikki took Harry’s hand and held it, and Tom was finally still. There was no more crying, no more shaking. It was just a moment frozen in time, the three of them together in a little room. Harry hugged Tom and Nikki kissed his forehead, and for the first time in 36 hours Tom wasn’t afraid anymore. The fight wasn’t plaguing him anymore, and neither was the aftertaste of filming that had been slowly poisoning his mind. All he could see was you, like a vision before him wiping his tears away. With that same smile that he had fallen in love with so easily, because it was purely yours.

And that was enough for Tom to be at peace with himself.

“Thank you.” Tom whispered, and Nikki was able to smile again. Harry ruffled his hair, making Tom punch him softly in the arm. He reached for the water glass and the pills in Nikki’s hand, knowing that he needed to take them.

“Take these two and it’ll help a little with the anxiety. It’ll also make you a little drowsy, but it might be good to sleep it all off properly. I’ll stay here with Harry until you wake up, okay?” Nikki said, and Tom let him expend enough energy to nod and smile.

“Just...just please make sure Y/N is okay? Make sure that nothing’s wrong?” Tom said, and Nikki squeezed his right hand. Harry had his left.

“Always. Now get some real sleep, you’re going to need it...”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Can we please listen to something other than your terrible daily mix?” You laughed, Harrison clutching his chest to feign offence. He reluctantly handed you the aux cord and you smiled, knowing exactly what you wanted to play. Taking a couple seconds to sift through your own playlists, you found the song you were looking for and pressed play. Harrison smirked at your choice, rolling his eyes at the songs you played over and over again. He attempted to steal the aux back from you, but you dodged him quickly.

“Hey, focus mister! I’m not about to get into an accident right out of the hospital!” You said, giggling as he started to belt out the lyrics and dance. He laughed, rolling his eyes as he focused on the road again.

“I’m a great driver! I’m just trying to save myself from your shit music taste.” He said with a smirk and now it was your turn to roll your eyes. Harrison wasn’t a bad driver, but he definitely wasn’t a great one. The first time you had gotten into the car with him had been to get groceries and it was a disaster. He forgot to turn around before reversing and nearly hit a little old lady with her cart, and almost got hit merging onto the highway. After that, you were careful to look out for him even if it meant you became a backseat driver.

“Sure, Haz. Whatever you want to believe. Just please get us home in one piece!” You laughed, leaning your head back and letting the sunlight warm your face. If not for the events of the previous day, you would have basked in the glory of such a beautiful day.

But your mind turned to Tom, as it always seemed to.

“Hey, is my bag in the back?” You asked, suddenly desperate to check its contents. Harrison turned down the music, furrowing his eyebrows at your change in mood. You turned to look at him, a slight fear in your eyes. Harrison nodded, gesturing to the backseat.

“Yeah, it’s there. Why? What’s wrong?”

“I just...I just need to make sure something is in there…” You trailed off, swiveling in your seat to grab at your handbag. Harrison watched from the corner of his eye as you set it on your lap, rootling through it quickly.

“Whoa, whoa. What are you looking for?” Harrison asked, a little concerned by how frantic you seemed to be. With a sigh of relief, you feel your hands grasp what you’re looking for and you pull it out slowly. Harrison’s eyes automatically soften, seeing your eyes water with your most prized possession in your hand.

“Is that the notebook Tom bought you? The one he bought you when he found out you wanted to be a writer?”

“Y-yeah...it is. I just wanted to make sure it was still there, you know? That’s dumb, isn’t it? I mean...he probably doesn’t even want to be with me a-anymore. So...so why am I….why am I holding on like this?” You felt the dam break finally, the tears streaming down your face. Harrison bit his lip, pulling the car over and unbuckling his seatbelt.

“Hey...hey...look at me.” Your tears were staining the cover, the little drops of water creating little streams on the surface. It felt like someone had pulled the rug from underneath you, and that you’d discovered there was no floor. What would you do without Tom? You loved him more than anything, but you were no fool. His anger couldn’t have come from out of the blue, it was something repressed that Tom had been feeling for a long time. Without warning, your insecurities began to mount.

Maybe he was bored of you.

Maybe you annoyed him.

Maybe he’d found someone else.

Maybe you weren’t good enough and he’d realized it.

And then the worst of them all.

Maybe the rest of the world was right.

“I’m losing him.” You whispered, and Harrison’s heart clenched at your words. He knew you were always insecure about dating Tom, but you’d never vocalized anything like this before.

“No, no you’re…”

“I’m not an idiot, Haz! I’ve seen the signs! H-he’s done with me….I’m just d-delaying the inevitable. I should have….I should have known I wasn’t good enough for him. He’s him and I’m j-just me, who the hell was I fooling? E-even the fans knew it!”

“Y/N...come on...that’s not-”

“He hasn’t wanted to spend any real time with me since he came back from Cherry. It’s like I don’t even exist to him, I’m invisible until he has to talk to me. I’ve tried five times to get him to have dinner with me and he rejected me every time, Haz. All I’ve heard for two months is ‘I’m going out with the boys, sorry’ or ‘Just going to sleep, don’t feel like eating’. And I tried to understand, I really did. It must have been so hard shooting a movie like that, it would be emotionally draining for anyone. Hell, even the book is emotionally draining-”

“I don’t think...”

“Let me finish, please? Haz, I can’t do this anymore. I’m tired, I’m so tired. I can’t fight for this relationship anymore when I’m not even sure if he wants it. He pushes me away all the time and it hurts me to see him like that. Tom isn’t happy, and I think it’s because of me. So I won’t hold him back anymore, I’ll just quietly disappear. No drama, no fighting, nothing. I can’t bear knowing I’m the reason he’s unhappy, it would kill me to think that.”

You broke again, the tears burning your eyes as you clutched the notebook tighter to your chest. It brought you a little comfort, knowing what you would have to do next. You needed to leave Tom, to let him live his life and be happy. You clearly couldn’t make him happy anymore and though that was something you’d struggled to accept in the last few hours, it was the right thing to do. You had no delusions about the way you looked, you always felt rather plain and boring compared to the beautiful women Tom was used to being around. He would be better off with someone else, someone as amazing as him.

Someone who isn’t you.

Harrison’s throat went dry as you slowly raised a hand to wipe at your tears, your eyes glossing over as you stared lifelessly out the window. He had a horrible feeling that you were serious about what you had just said, and he wasn’t sure how all this had happened. How could he have let you feel like this?

How could they not have noticed?

“Please, please don’t say-”

“Harrison, I have to. I can’t do this anymore.” You whispered, and Harrison stopped mid sentence. You never called him by his full name, it was always just Haz. He squeezed your hand as you cried, sobs wracking your body that made him cry too. You barely got the words out, but Harrison knew them before you said it.

“I have to leave because I love him.”

IF YOU’RE STILL INTERESTED IN BEING ON MY TAGLIST PLEASE FILL OUT THE NEW FORM IN MY BIO BC I WILL BE REVAMPING IT!

TAGLIST (PLEASE ONLY SEND AN ASK OR FILL OUT MY FORM!!): @tommyparkerr @grandmascottlang @toms-order @domestic-void @tomhollandsgirlfriend @cutiehollands @peeterparkr @jupiterparker @inlovewithmob-tom @veronicas-littleworld @da5haexowin @sergeantbxrnxs @hazsterfield @itsholyholland @underoosstark @stormyholland @let-me-luve-you @musicgirl234 @its-livelovelife @steve-thotgers @tiny-friggin-human @lavcnderparker @lucille-lovely @yeahbutmarvel @lokiislowkeyhot @spideymood @yoharryyouawizard @tomhollanders2013 @starlightseoksmain @jnej @spiderman-n @positiveparker @winterssoldierrs @heycreehere @galaxy-parker @sdrecsfics @doimakeitthroughthenight @wronglanemendes @brokensimpson @spnsoap @ninetypoundsofasthma @quitetommy @voltronshepard @marvelismylifffe @iluvmesomemarvelndc @annathesillyfriend @tiredfeels @scarlet-spiderr @hedwigthelegend @renesniajazza @bibliophile-grasshopp @tomhollandswhore @yeeterbenjaminparker @juliabuenooo @paradoxparker @pokeloisfk @machomango13 @nobledoritoman @cosmicdaya @hey-its-grey @toms-gf @cutesparker @whypeterparkerwhy @blissfulparker @xxtomxo @pastelpeter @hilllsnholland @hopespym @peterstrainingwheels @stuckonspidey @jacobsbatalon @steveroguhrs @spideypeach @spxderbarnes @stealth-spiderr @uglypastels @darlingtholland @spideyflicker @thollandss @out-of-my-way-extras @trustfundparker @clockblobber @asmilinghopelessromantic @zaynjawy @sholla4-314 @lemondropirwin @angelbabymed @in-the-corner-coffee-please @peterbparkcr @william-stanley @greenarrowhead @squishyhyunjin @starz-23 @spoopy-spooderman @whatevsholland @aestheticstom @tomzfrog @bebegomie @embrace-themagic @joshuaparkers @dancingoncrackedhearts @mlt2000 @spidergirl007 @headsup-itsmostlypeter @sspideytom @kisses-holland @hardestbattles-strongestsoldiers @infamousmany @theefactorygirl @aelinashryvver @sarah-moss2015 @honeybucks @fandomdarlings @yourwonderbelle @rexorangecouny @deni-gonzalez @mylifeasafangirlforever @random-writer06 @whitewolfandthefox @sweetlyth @notethereal @play-morezeppelin @fandoms-stuff @petesrparker @yavinmoon @sweet-baby-cakes @noswagswag @peteunderoos @jackiehollanderr @yadekms @practicallylivesonline @i-tried21 @stasye @unorganizedasf @tomshufflepuff @mejustbeingme @fanboy-tom @mimaligrl @theimpossiblehologramtree @diamonddia-mond @qrangr @parkeroffline @peterpumpkinparker @rosieredcheeks @delicately-important-trash @zabdisamor @peterbrokenparker @the-lost-fairy-tale @everestluke @gigilame @youllbemineandillbeyours @cherryblossomcharlotte @paintingbellarke @teawithbucky @tomhaz @multi-worlds @clara-licht @ppkrtingle @laurxn-robinson @lulueliott @lostinspidey @starlightparker @ddaeing @sincerelymlg @officiallygeek @maybemona @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @lowkey-holland @particularsof @saturn-aka-six @elysianparker @fangirlingisajob @hypnotized-so-mesmerized @deathofthrones @th0ttie4tommy @orowit @lauras-collection @itseightbeats @thomasholyholland @h-arrystyles @softboyparkerr @darlingxholland @marshyrebelcloud @kristinathecarat @florencxs @definitely-not-black-cat @spdys @wazzupmrstark @farfromhaz @plushparker @princepeteys @afterglowparker @softspiderling @geeksareunique @sltwins @belladonichaze39 @emmmybear @melrosaeparker @crazymexicanfangirl @beequeen8020 @escapetheshackles @siriuslyslyslytherin @eilishparker @violet-lilyy @w-jhxk-yj @doctor-spence-reidd @spacebitch2 @folkoftheair @himynameishooman @temptingholland @miraclesoflove @marvelobsessedteenager @hollandosterfieldfanfic @biebsmylife95 @hannihannelora @getmebieber @angiexyoung @markleehee

Gone Taglist: @tshdarling @hestoosirius @ana-cxst @aeciru @play-morezeppelin @bobo-bush @itsjusttor  @iam-thevillain-of-thisstory @autty0314 @name-me-regret @prfctdayas @youngblood199456 @fab-notfat @technolilly @hollandinq @theetherealbloom @littlebookbengal @spideyyeet @midnightbarnes @3prettyinpink3 @lulueliott24 @spxder-bxcky @spiderbibby @ietss @winterseba @sehunights @blahhhhhhhaaa @shootingstarsaretearsofheaven @sixwyrxstuff @noelleivy @madeinthemidnightmemories @tryn25 @iriaaarb @marvelobsessedteenager @eleanornicolelocke @breakingnasa @iwishitwasthe-80s @wesleypiper @ihopethatwemeetinanotherlife @1dstark-blog @totesem @itstomhollands @stxfxniexreads @astrobxbeee @magicianraging @reveluvspecial @be-cautious-around-bri @audreylovesashton706 @whereverigoimightstay @natasha-stark-parker @jacksnoodlez99 @lifeisabitchandsoareyou @stabbyhat @blackeighteen @itisjustpaula @caitsymichelle13 @herondalism @ameliathackray @pluckypete @rachaeldonnaspiteri1 @farfromjustordinary @cosmicmndes @farfromhoran @giveme-gaskarth @likeit-or-leaveit @captured-firelight @spnsquirrel @some-random-stranger-007 @silver-bubbles @thevelvetseries @screeching-student-unknown @melrosaeparker 

Moots Tag -let me know if you want me to take you off :)- @angelic-holland @fairytaleparker @honeymoonparker @screamholland @hollandstom @calmholland @spiesindisguise @neverlandparker @nnatasha @parkerpuff @the-claire-bitch-project @angelhaz11 @farfromhaz @blushypetey @hazinhoodies @spiderrpcrker @yeahimcrying @definitely-not-black-cat​ @quackeroos @ts-holland @t-holland2080 

[sunny-cyrus]

If that’s what you meant by the tags on this I’d love to hear about your headcanons and why👀

That IS what I meant yes and this will be a bit long since I have a lot of thoughts and such, so thank you :D

Stan

Okay so my head canons and making smelly teenaged Stan.

He doesn't clean his face, this is me projecting but since his character does have depression there is the lack of motivation on things and he just thinks "why bother getting rid of the zits if they're gonna come back". Stan also sucks at shaving but doesn't wanna look like Randy, not cause he hates him (though Stan isn't fond of him it just isn't hate) he just fears becoming a Randy clone. Stan still plays board games and his main player 2 is Nicole, he's also gotten better at music stuff. Stan's hat is just his old hat that has been stretched out into a beanie look cause he's like emo or something. Speaking of what he's wearing I looked through my Pinterest board for clothing since I couldn't figure out how his jacket would look, no I am not joking. Now on Stan's hair, I just gave him teenager Trey's hair considering Stan is kinda Trey also it looks crappy but in a good way.

Lastly on Stan, he still despises weed and would never take it and he still has sparky! Big Gay Al just co-owns him.

Kyle

Kyle's hat isn't the original his mom didn't want him wearing his old clothes since she didn't want others thinking she doesn't buy her son new clothing, another time of me projecting. But Kyle bought the exact same hat everytime except there being the slight differences of the hat and he never thinks it's the same. I thought about his future design where he's an adult and Kyle has the same green/orange look so Kyle just really likes green and orange. He wears vests and a sweater mainly cause I realized just the vest would be cold. He has one of those purse bags I forgot what they're called but it's from his mom and he gets made fun of by Cartman a lot.

Kyle still enjoys and plays basketball I'm not gonna give details since I have no clue how basketball works. He needs glasses but refuses to go to get them, Stan has to help him read stuff that's far away. Kyle doesn't want them since that's like a Jewish stereotype (from my research it is Im just going off that). Kyle gets into other people's business but that's cause he thinks he could fix things, he doesn't mean to be a jerk. Cartman still gets on his nerves and over the years of being mad about Cartman, a lot of small things that make Kyle mad he overacts to them (projecting sorta again). Kyle just wants to help.

Cartman

Cartman was fun to draw and think about actually! So we've seen the times he's dressed up and such so he ends up having a pretty obnoxious wardrobe when he's older but mostly wears his jacket with flames and he always claims how "it's kewl the flames are sick, you guys!" His shirt is actually cheesy poofs branded, I have a south park shirt that is pretty old and the print on it is very faded so the shirt is similar to that and also shows how long Cartman has been a fan of cheesy poofs. He wears sweatpants. Cartman makes sure to wear the most expensive and popular brand of shoes so he can show off to Kenny.

His hat is actually his old one just with pins, the pins are an emoji and a cat (which is from a series called bee and puppycat) Cartman's favorite animal is cats even if he doesn't know how to care for them. He has hair clips, many many hair clips he also wears eyeliner/paints his nails! He's been shown to crossdress alot so I feel like Cartman would just subtly wear stuff like that more often. I don't think he really brushed his teeth often and with all the bad foods he eats he ends up with braces. Cartman has subtle stubble and acne, all the boys have acne actually but that's cause they're gross teenagers (Stan's is the only one who has the worst acne second to that is Kenny.)

He still has his 'bff' necklace matching with Kenny after that episode where he claims they're 'bffs' with that necklace Cartman actually ends up liking that idea and brings it up to Kenny years later. Lastly Cartman likes to play loud and obnoxious music while they wait for the bus, Kyle is the only one who's actually annoyed, Stan always recommends songs when Cartman runs out and Kenny just laughs.

Kenny

Okay so Kenny, he ends up growing out his hair after liking the long hair while being princess Kenny he even takes off his hood to show it off! But he gets cold easily so wears a scarf to cover his face up thus keeping the muffled voice. Kenny also cross dresses whether that be a gender thing or just a thing he likes he still does it and enjoys doing whatever. He has the matching bff necklace. Kenny like I said before gets cold easily and because he took off his hood his ears get bright red cause of the coldness.

Kenny has a great relationship with his siblings and he likes that with Kevin he doesn't need to take up a parental role! Kenny doesn't fear death which would be obvious and has given up on figuring out how it works though he is very smart and not being a ten year old anymore would mean he could figure it out but Kenny just wants to be with his friends and not think about dying, pretend it's a dream or like nothing happened like how everyone else reacts after it. Kenny does get really sad over it though.

That's pretty much it! This was very long actually, but Im glad you wanted to know about my head canons and stuff for this :D I had fun writing this all down!