#mess. like i had been in therapy for like 6 months and i was in the break it down phase of breaking myself down and building back up.

[thedreadvampy]

I fucking love my friend!!!!!!!

[myouicieloz]

Mystery of Love

Hirai Momo x Member!reader

Synopsis: the group’s comeback is approaching. There’s a full day of shootings waiting ahead of you. You should rest, but you can’t sleep.

Warnings: hurt/comfort. reader talks about her feelings.

Word count: 2.5k

Notes: I AM STILL HERE ! not my best, but still ^^

Pt.1 | Pt.2 | Pt.3 | Pt.4 | Pt.5 | Pt.6

—

Sometimes your thoughts were so loud inside your head you were sure everyone could hear them too. 

They were constant reminders of how everything was wrong in your life. The way you dealt with your loved ones, your daily routine, the way your brain worked, the words you chose to use in a conversation… everything was just deeply wrong. It was a constant reminder of how much you managed to mess up by just existing.

You could feel the familiar feeling starting to cripple your skin, followed by a million needles poking you at the same time. Yet, you knew that no matter how much you scrubbed, scratched, and hurt yourself, such feelings would never disappear. 

Said knowledge doesn’t keep you from running your nails all over your arms and abdomen, of course. At least the burning sensation was a vivid reminder that you was still hanging on. You were still alive; in Seoul, at the dorms, existing. You were not a ghost, and there was still hope. 

Like a mantra, you whispered the words in the dark, running your hands through your face to calm yourself down. The pressure worked, but that uneasy feeling still lingered, guilt-tripping your guts.

It’s been nearly six months since the episode, shouldn’t you feel any better already? You’ve been following your diet religiously, attending therapy twice a week, and working on reaching out whenever you felt one of your crises coming up— yet it seemed like it was all in vain. Despite all of your efforts, you still felt so wrong. 

How scary is it, to know that the anxiety was carved deep in your bones as part of who you were? 

Terrifying, indeed. 

You’ve done a great job convincing the girls of your progress, reassuring them there was no need to push their first comeback of the year. You told them it was fine to attend photoshoots, rehearsals, mv shootings, and go through promotions without fuss. 

Which was the truth, in a way. The staff were always kind and understanding to you, kind as they encouraged you to take short breaks after every hour or so. You felt seen, along with the strength and protection your unnies provided.

However, going to any pre-recorded events was still something scary. Especially one as important as Music Bank, where Onces would be ogling you with such attentive eyes. Not judging, naturally, but staring with their eyes full of hope… you couldn’t disappoint them, either. Not your fans, who loved you unconditionally, and your sisters, who have been nothing but patient and protective throughout these last months. They’ve done so much for you, who had nothing to give in return. 

Naturally, the girls would understand if you chose to be absent. They’ve told you so repeatedly, reassuring situation is completely understandable and that it’s incredible that you’re even participating in the comeback, but you know how much it hurts them to not be complete as a group. Without you, something is missing, even if it’s hard to understand what you could possibly add to these women, who already have everything. 

Joining them in their comeback was an honor, and you wouldn’t skip it for anything in the world. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do to have your unnies happy. 

The van will pick you up in the morning, so they’re all currently resting. And you’re exhausted— crushingly so, which is an easy thing to notice with no more than a quick look. Your new sleeping pills did not make the bags under your eyes go away, and you’re still bony, a shallow of the smiley, reserved maknae you once were.

Once again, your breaths grow rapidly, the pitch-black ceiling getting smaller with each passing minute, shrinking enough to trap your body inside the walls of your bedroom. You try to control your breathing by taking deep breaths to calm yourself down, just like your unnies usually do. Your apartment is too high up to hear the whistle of the trees or the noise of crickets, but somehow the stars in quiet night are enough. Those same stars, shining so bright in the late hours, remind you so much of the girls whom you share a home and a life with— your most loved ones, your soulmates. Let us in, Y/n, please. Let us help. they begged you, so loud in their silence. It pained them to give you space, as you’re well aware. If they could, they’d just wrap you up in a bubble and protect you from any sorrows. 

If only they could. 

You’re not alone. You don’t have to struggle by yourself. You can come to us.

With that in mind, you drop your covers and leave your bedroom, walking to the corridor in quiet, unhurried steps. It’s only once you reach the third room on the left that your long, delicate fingers brush the door, with barely any force. It opens easily, thanks to their no-locking policy, and you observe the room for a moment before settling in. 

Momo and Nayeon share a bedroom, just like old times. The room is vast— big enough for two queen-sized beds, and visibly messy. Clothes hang everywhere, either on the ground or left in a pile in some of the open drawers. You squint your eyes to adjust yourself to the darkness and notices the nail supplies cluttered on their tea table. Letters, legos, stuffed animals… so many objects that make you nearly lose balance many times, as you make your way to a pitch-black dot lost amidst the thick covers of Momo’s fluffy bed. 

You don’t mind, though. If anything, you find yourself giggling quietly, amused by how the pair had turned the bland room into a home within a few weeks. 

Surprisingly, it didn’t take long for the members to accustomed to living together once again. It had been years since they’d decided to live apart, but your episode had made them make the decision almost immediately. You needed them, so they’d be there for you 24/7, guarding and offering their best support. Sure, your new apartment was much more luxurious and spacious than any of their old dorms, but it was just as cozy and filled with love. 

And you needed that. You didn’t think so, naturally— fiercely advocating against their decision, terrified of making your bandmates change their lifestyle because of yourself, but they gave you no choice. In fact, you felt much like a baby as they moved things over and over, sitting down on the big couch while they did all the boring and hard work. 

It was nice to have the house noisy again, you noted. After so many years of living by yourself, you discovered you liked a little bit of chaos, especially those that came from your loved ones. You needed that. Once again, your unnies proved that they knew you best. 

You moved carefully to not wake Momo up, even though the dancer sleeps like a rock. Lifting the covers, you lowered your body until you were lying down in your unnie’s bed, staring at the older woman’s soft features. 

Momo was perfect in every way, and she was so _strong_, too. Not only with her toned muscles, she was a true pillar, taking care of her members so subtly they barely noticed. They were all drawn to her when things got rough. With her sleepish smile and round eyes, her easy laugh was like a beacon on a heavy storm. Talking to her was not only easy, it felt so freeing. You would always forget about your troubles for a few minutes, whenever they were together.

Without even noticing, your eyes start to water—you were so loved, and what for? What have you done to deserve such a honorable feeling? It’s hard to suppress your hiccups as tears start to water Momo’s pillow. Then, almost instinctively, Momo’s arms are around you, holding and bringing you closer until your noses are nearly touching. 

You focus on Momo’s eyes, which are still only half-open, and on the sounds she makes, purring as she tries to shake the sleep from her body so she can stay awake. Her hand goes to your hair immediately, fingers running through your scalp in circles. The delicate movements of Momo’s fingers differ from your usual clumsiness, but it’s so soothing that you calm down immediately.

“Can’t sleep, baby?” You shake your head at the sound of her raspy voice, with trembling lips. Momo knows the crying will soon get worse if she doesn’t do anything, so she holds you closer, her grip extra strong, “No no, don’t cry. It’s okay, you’re okay… we’ll help you.”

It’s a routine you’re used to, by now. At first, it made Momo nervous to see you in such agony, sobbing so hard you choked over nothing, desperate for air. Then, Mina explained to her that it was a way of releasing the heavy feelings you kept bottled up for so long, which put Momo’s nerves a little bit at ease. Still, it broke her heart to see you hurting. Her sweet little maknae, who’s always been so, graceful, and quiet…

Yet, Momo couldn’t do anything to take all this pain from your chest. She’d take it all in a blink, were that possible. She’d take all of your sorrows and keep them to herself. 

Instead, Momo brushes the wet strands of your hair away from your face, greeting you with a sleepy smile. “Hello, baby girl. Are you nervous about tomorrow?”

Your nod is so subtle Momo finds herself brushing her eyes, wondering if she’d imagined it. There’s a big pause, and the dancer starts to drool as she fights sleep to listen. 

“I…” You speak, and it’s like you’re a trainee all over again: small and anxious and so filled with doubts all you want to do is curl up and disappear forever. You gulp hard to suppress another sob. “I c-an’t do it, unnie. Music bank, tomorrow. I can’t. It’s just, there will be so many people and so many cameras and the fans don’t  know I’m weak, and if I fuck the group’s image once again we’ll never be invited to anything ever and it’s going to be all my fucking faul—" 

You bury your head in Momo’s chest, unable to look at the dancer as you open up your fresh wounds. It hurts to know the amount of hate and backlash they group has gotten because of your scandal. You still didn’t even know who leaked your hospital chart, but JYP did a good work of putting it all under the carpet. And to make all of the denying real, you had to look put together to the public. 

You don’t remember the last time you looked like anything but a crystal piece of art, full of cracks and ready to shatter into a million pieces. 

Lithe fingers touch your skin once again, moving without rush to not startle or overwhelm you. Momo knows what you need: her presence alone is already so comforting. You get a glimpse of her short, black nails as the older girl runs them over your arms, then your torso. 

“Do you want to try mirroring my breathing, baby? You always do it so well.” She asks and you nod immediately. With your face against Momo’s chest, you follow the rhythm of your unnie’s heartbeats, focusing on that alone. “That’s it, dear. Good Job.” 

Everything is suddenly pitch black: there’s only Momo’s loving embrace and the way your bodies are naturally tangled, so close to each other that two become one and your sorrows slowly dissipate amidst the warmth. Love does heal, you’re proof of that. You know so because, even if your progress isn’t nearly as you’d envisioned it, it’s still there. You’re slowly working to recovery, no matter how much your stubborn self denies it. And it’s much due to their help: your bandmates, your loves.

Momo’s thumbs brush your cheeks, washing your tears away as the minutes turn your crying into faint sniffles. “You’ve been so brave, Y/n. I’m serious. All the effort you’ve been pouring into our new comeback… it’s impressive. But please, please know you don’t have to do anything you don’t feel ready to do. We can wait, baby.”

And you knows they won’t pressure you by any means. Although sometimes, you wish they did. 

“I know, it’s just…” You sigh, untangling yourself from Momo so you can press your elbows onto the bed and run your hands all over your face, huffing with frustration. “I want to do it, unnie. I really do. I just don’t want to break in front of everyone and destroy our group’s image.” 

I don’t want to disappoint you again.

That’s what it was. Frustrating and tiring, to feel so unsure over something you’ve done a thousand times before.

“Y/n, look at me.” The dancer’s tone is imposing, so commanding you have no choice but to oblige immediately. “You’re the strongest person I know, and I admire you so much. We see you trying every day, baby, and it’s where we find our strength, too,” She adds, just as quietly, “On seeing you try. It makes me— makes us try to be better every day, too. For you. We love you, so much. And if it’s what you want to do, we’ll be with you every second of it.” 

How could you inspire them? It doesn’t seem possible. Not when you’re so weak, vulnerable and a complete mess. Your unnies are all so graceful and certainly much better at everything they do. You don’t understand Momo’s words, but it’s late, and you’re too tired to ask. So you simply nod, trying hard not to pout. 

It’s a different kind of sadness, one of not being able to give what your unnies so desperately want. The hopelessness is carved so deep in your bones you can’t do anything but sigh, shuffle, and turn until you’re staring at the ceiling and your hands are hidden under the covers, so Momo doesn’t notice how much they tremble.

“You can’t give me what I need.” You can’t fix what’s broken inside. You want to scream. I think I can’t, either.

“I can’t. I’m sorry for that.” She stops, staring down at you. Her dark orbs are filled with nothing but the purest form of love as she kisses your forehead and whispers, because it’s just the two of you together and the night is quiet, ever so private. “But I can love you.”

Those same loving arms evolve you again, and no more words are spoken. You don’t need to say anything else— no words suffice, not in any language. For now, Momo and you grow content falling asleep together, soothed by each other’s breathing and the promise of taking one step at a time. 

In Momo’s arms, you feel safe, respected, and loved. You fall asleep thinking you might be able to go through all of this, as long as you’re together.

[alexwilltellyouthings]

Entirely self indulgent rating post about the top 10 TV shows that made me fucking insane for some reason

10. Sense8

God, this was so good. Such a blessing. I saw part of the cast during a Pride Parade and it's one of my favorite memories. I felt every possible emotion with this show, I love it.

9. The Last of Us

This is kind of a cheat, because the obsession comes from the games, but it is what it is. It's one of the few games that had a big impact on me and I closely relate it to my relationship with my dad. Can't wait to cry my heart out at season 2.

8. Good Omens

It's a given, isn't it? That stupid angel with his stupid demon and their stupid God. GRRRAAWW. A lot of thoughts and feelings came from the fandom, I have to point out. It's been very nice.

7. The Umbrella Academy

I have the first issue of the comics autographed by Gerard Way!! I mean, yes, it's because I'm a MCR fan, but it became even more precious after I got into the show. I'm rewatching right now, preparing for the last season. I'll be a mess when I say goodbye to them. Can't even really think about it too hard or I'll cry right now.

Continues under the cut

6. Our Flag Means Death

LISTEN THIS CHANGED EVERYTHING TO ME. What do you mean we can have a show THIS queer? It's all I want now. I ate it up. I smiled so much. I wanted this so badly and had no idea.

5. Interview with the Vampire

Feels like it should be top 3 honestly but I'll get there. This is also a cheat, I've been reading the Vampire Chronicles since I was like 15. Growing up with Anne Rice probably messed me up but hey at least I have great taste. And seeing them on screen? The way they made it BETTER? And Lestat?? Who has been haunting me for 15 years on and off??? And the second season and their reunion and and and?????????? I'm STILL insane about them and will be forever, I'm afraid.

4. Doctor Who

Listen. Listen. Okay. Yeah. What can I say? If you get into it, you're doomed. And I have been doomed for 10 years at least. I stopped watching for a while and got back last year, and it hit me all over again. I love this dumbass genius alien in a way that's calm, even. Just a permanent part of who I am now.

3. The Untamed

The year was 2022, it had been a while since I had a proper fixation and I didn't think it would happen with this danmei live-action, but then came Wei Wuxian. Guys, if I tell you I fell in love. Couldn't stop thinking about him. Everyday I was plagued by his smile and red ribbon and tragic backstory, yadayadayada. I really like other characters too, and their stories, but WWX did something to me that I still don't quite understand.

2. Queer as Folk (US)

This was a looong time ago and it didn't really persist over time like the others, but it was my first actual obsession. I was clinically insane over these gays. I had no one to talk to about them, so for every episode I wrote several pages of notes to comment to my (only) friend at school the next day, the poor thing. It was pretty much all I talked about because I spent EVERY MINUTE we had to talk going over the notes and explaining the episode. Like, between classes, during breaks, everything. Months of that. She held on firmly because she was a good friend, but I'm aware it must've been terrible. Like I said, insane.

1. Dead Boy Detectives

Maybe I'm putting this up here because it's my current hyperfixation? Maybe. But I don't think I have felt something hit as strongly as this since QaF over there. This time I can participate in fandom so I don't need to write every thought I have because it's all a big talk anyway, but I'm still pretty much having those thoughts all the time for *checks notes* nearly three months. I'm writing more than I have in years. I'm back at Tumblr after I don't know how long. I'm staring at GIFs over and over like I have the fucking time for that. I'm distracted at work daily. I talk about it in therapy. I have the main cast's notifications on. I'm getting involved in fandom discourse sometimes even knowing I shouldn't. It's a nightmare. I love it. I love them.

If you read all of this, congrats! Now you know how my mind works, kinda!! I'm open to talk about any and all of these shows. It's amazing how they mess us up. It's also scary, but anyway.

[incompleteth0ts]

(S)he likes your butt and fancy hair

Day 6 of Hadercy week: Hades and/or Persephone read TLT written by adult Percy and find out that Percy thinks Hades is attractive

@hadesxpercy-events

Percy hated therapy.

Okay, maybe that was a lie, but he did hate his therapist.

…Okay maybe that was a lie too, but what he did hate was not being allowed to hide from his problems.

Percy’s mom had managed to convince Percy to take the next big step months ago. She had practically begged him. Curled up on the floor of the emergency room, holding the limp hand of her only son.

“Please don’t die, baby. Mommy can’t live without you.”

That had been one hell of a sign, if any.

It was harder than Percy expected it to be. New York wasn’t known for its abundance of therapists, and demigods rarely lived long enough to make it to college. When Percy found his first therapist, a legacy of Athena, Percy was grateful enough to offer Athena an offering at dinner.

Every day, Percy regrets offering her that piece of steak.

The legacy was self-licensed with a diploma that might as well have been painted onto the drywall.

Percy had been approached by the legacy after leaving his last class at NRU. The man had been as old as dirt, with dirty blonde hair and a face as friendly as the average son of Ares.

Percy had been incredibly skeptical of the man when he first approached him, but his mom had been so ecstatic when Percy told her about scheduling his first appointment. He’d already broken her heart once; he couldn’t do it a second time.

So, off to therapy, he went.

The first appointment was…rough.

The man knew a lot about him. Percy figured it came with the title of hero, but it was unnerving having someone who was supposed to be his last chance at a fresh start know so much about him before he even sat down.

It became very apparent that his ‘therapist’ was more of an overgrown fanboy than a medical professional. Percy did not schedule another appointment with him after that.

The next few therapists were the same. Nobody legacies who wanted the bragging rights of ‘saving the hero from himself’ and a free autograph.

If it wasn’t for the fact his mom had such high hopes for him finding ‘the one’ he would have given up before he even started.

Luckily, the fates had taken pity on him. A once-in-a-blue-moon opportunity is in the form of a pop-up ad.

The computers at New Rome University were nearly as ancient as the school itself. Big blocky computer screens that ran at a snail's pace. The ad had taken up the entire screen and nearly crashed the whole appliance, but there it sat, as clear as day.

‘For the people who can no longer care. I care for you. Dr. Laura Hill, registered psychiatrist.’

At the bottom of the screen was an address and phone number. Grabbing the nearest pen and tearing off a corner of his anatomy homework, Percy wrote the number down in a messy scrawl. Something told Percy she was his last stroke of hope; if she couldn’t help him, no one could.

Percy shoved the piece of paper in the back pocket of his jeans and prayed his gut feeling was right.

Percy didn’t call the number until three days later.

He was nervous, ok?

Percy gripped the landline as though he was scared of it running out of the booth instead of him.

Percy cursed every time he messed up the number and had to redial it. By the time the phone rang, Percy was ready to give up. He only had so much hope in his body.

“Hello?”

Percy dropped the phone. He cringed at the loud bang that echoed in the booth as the telephone swung on its cord, bouncing off the window pane.

“Hello? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine! I’m sorry I just dropped the phone.” Percy held the landline between his cheek and shoulder to wipe the seat off his palms.

“That’s ok, hun. Are you calling for an appointment?”

“Yes. I saw an ad for a Dr. Hill. Is this the right number?”

“It sure is. Is this your first time making an appointment with her?”

Yep. Can’t you tell from the clumsy fingers and the chattering teeth? If my bone shook any harder, I’d start an earthquake.

“Yes.”

“Alright, just give me a moment to take a look at her schedule…how are you today?”

Percy wiped his hands on his shorts a second time. The glass was beginning to fog up a ridiculous amount.

“I’m fine. I’m just really nervous. This is the sixth therapist I've been with, and I’m starting to feel hopeless.”

“I’m sorry to hear that hun. Dr. Hill is one of the kindest women I know, you’ll love her. I can just feel it.”

Over the line, Percy could hear the robotic typing of a keyboard. He hoped, Dr. Hill wasn’t flooded with traumatized teenagers to the point that she couldn’t fit in one more.

“Well, would you look at that! It seems like one of her other clients canceled their 1 o’clock appointment for tomorrow. If you’re available, can I schedule you for then?”

“Yes! Yes, I’m available. Thank you so much!”

“Alright! Can I have a name for this appointment?”

“Perseus Jackson.”

___

Percy sat as patiently as he could in the colorful waiting room of Dr. Hill’s office. Maggie, a bubbly-spirited daughter of Iris and the receptionist Percy had spoken with yesterday, had handed Percy a lollipop when he entered the room.

Percy hoped that this therapist was truly the one he thought she was if that meant he got to keep collecting candy.

“Perseus Jackson?”

From around the corner appeared a blonde lady in a beige cardigan. Standing up, Percy waved his hand like he was waiting for him to call on him again.

“Hi. I’m Perseus. You can call me Percy, though.”

“Right. Let’s head back, shall we, Percy?”

Opening the tiny gate that separated the waiting room from the private offices Percy waved to Maggie and followed Dr. Hill down the hall and into a room with lilac walls.

“It is nice to meet you, Percy. I hope you didn’t have any problems with getting here.”

Percy reached out to Dr. Hill shook her outstretched hand. She had a soft grip and cold hands. It was kind of like shaking hands with a zombie.

“None at all, I live around this area, it’s a surprise I haven’t heard of you before.”

Dr. Hill uncovered a dark purple armchair that was hidden under a baby blue sheet and sat across from it in a matching red chair. Accepting the seat, Percy sank into the velvet chair.

“I recently relocated offices so I could be closer to the city square. Enough about me, Percy. We are here to talk about you. Where do you want to begin Percy?”

For the first time since seeking out therapy, Percy felt like he was finally on the path to a fresh start.

__

Percy hated therapy.

Okay, maybe that was a lie, but he did hate his therapist.

…Okay maybe that was a lie too, but what he did hate was not being allowed to hide from his problems.

“I don’t think this is a good idea, Laura.”

Percy slid the journal his therapist had placed in front of him back to her side of the table. Laura grabbed the journal and slapped it down into Percy’s lap.

“Just think about it, Percy. Doing this won't hurt you.”

“What would I want to write down all my trauma for? This is why I come to you once a week!”

Laura, for all her patience, looked ready to smack Percy upside his head. For the past three weeks, she’s been trying to get Percy to ‘write down his life’. She claimed that it would help him come to terms with his past, but it just felt like one big trauma scam.

“You come to me for solutions to a problem. I provide you with answers and potential solutions. It is up to you to figure out the rest.”

Percy sunk in his seat and picked up the journal. It was a simple leather-bound notebook. On the cover, Laura had printed out a stick with his name on it and a second one of a dolphin. It looked like the kind of notebook his mom would write her rough drafts in.

Percy’s never been much of a reader, preferring it when someone verbalized a story for him, he had a flask drive at home loaded with audiobooks and old podcast episodes, not to mention the most writing Percy has ever done was argumentative essays that were worth a fourth of his grade.

“Your mom writes stories, right? Instead of seeing this as a chore, you need to do to make yourself feel better, think of it as a bonding activity that the two of you could do together,” Laura reached over and put her hand on his knee. Laura was touchy for a therapist, not that Percy’s ever had an issue with it, but right now, the last thing he wanted was to be coddled like a toddler. "Write it down. Turn it into a story."

"My trauma isn't entertainment."

"You're right. It's not. What it is is tragic. Show me what happens to those who survive the unsurvivable.”

Percy left Laura’s office with a blueberry lollipop in his mouth, and the leatherbound journal tucked under his arm. Spring break was around the corner. Before he walked back to his dorm, Percy stopped at one of New Rome’s phone booths and called his mom. If he was going to do this, Percy refused to do it alone.

__

Percy sat at his mom's dining table, bouncing the tip of his pencil against the blank sheet of paper.

Behind him, Estelle was singing along to an episode of Bubble Guppies. She unfortunately got her singing skills from him.

“Are you okay, honey?”

Percy clutched his mother's hand in his empty one. She had gotten more grey hairs over the last year. Percy felt awful knowing that most of them had come from him.

Sally held on to Percy’s shoulders like she was scared he’d disappear from the kitchen table if she let go of him.

“I’ve been trying to journal, but I don’t think it’s for me. I’ve been making so much progress, Mom. Why can’t I do this?”

If Percy wasn’t such an emotionally stunted man, he would have teared up, sank into his mother's arms, and wept about how unfair his life was.

In the living room, Percy could hear Estelle rush to the bathroom. She was getting so big, and Percy was missing all of it. Just yesterday, she was learning how to crawl, and now she was running around the house.

“Maybe you should take a break for today. It’s perfectly fine if nothing comes to mind right now, all that matters is that when you do think of something to write, it’s something from the heart,” Sally pressed a firm kiss to Percy’s temple like she wanted to do nothing more than fix whatever mental barriers were attacking her son. “How about joining me in the kitchen? I want to have spaghetti for dinner.”

Percy closed the journal and forgot about it for the rest of the night.

The next day, during breakfast, Percy bounced the corner of the book against his knee. In the living room, his mom was trying to wrestle a shirt of his little sister.

“Estelle if you want to go to the park, you need to put a shirt on.”

“But old man Dan doesn’t wear shirts to the park!”

“That is because Mr. Dan is an adult. You, however, are not, so put the shirt on missy.”

Besides Percy, Paul watched his wife and toddler arguing about what made a person an adult until Sally finally managed to pull a shirt over the five-year-old.

“Be kind to your mom, Estelle. You wouldn’t want her to cry, would you?”

At Percy’s comment, Estelle let out a scandalized gasp and grabbed onto her mothers leg.

“Don’t cry, Momma! I’ll wear a shirt,” Rushing out of the living room and over to the laundry hamper, Estelle pulled out one of Paul’s button-ups. “I’ll even get old man Dan to wear one. Hurry!”

Rushing to the front door, Estelle grabbed her Ariel shoes and shook them at Sally.

“Oh boy, I can’t wait to see Estelle try and put a shirt on Dan. I’ll see you boys later.”

Sally pressed a kiss to Percy’s cheek and a matching one to Paul’s.

“Have fun at the park, Sally.”

“Later, Mom.”

Percy watched as Estelle dragged their moma and one of Paul’s shirts out the door and down the hall, standing up Percy closed and locked the door, hoping Estelle hadn’t taken one of Paul’s nicer shirts.

“She’s gotten so big, it’s crazy to think that she’s already five and hates clothing.”

Paul laughed at Percy’s attempt at a joke. Paul’s hair was starting to grey, too. He hoped it was from his students and not from him as well.

“She’s already hopping off of furniture as well and giving me and your mother chronic heart attacks.”

Percy picked up his still-empty notebook and flipped to the front page. Percy felt like Spongebob trying to write an essay. Percy had wanted to write down at least one page before his next appointment. Laura truly was a huge help, and he didn’t want to disappoint her.

“Are you still having trouble with your writing?”

Paul had migrated to the kitchen and began to boil a kettle of hot water.

“Yeah. Mom told me to try and write something from the heart, but I have no clue what that means.”

“Hmm.”

Paul began to gather two empty mugs from the cabinets and four bags of tea. This was one of the many things Percy liked about Paul, he wasn’t like his past teachers who pushed Percy to think of solutions to problems on the spot, Paul was more than willing to sit in silence and wait for an answer to come naturally to him.

Once the kettle began to whistle, Paul began preparing their tea. He worked in silence, so Percy took it as a cue that the conversation was over.

When Percy was given his mug of tea, he didn’t fight back the smile that twitched on his face. The tea, just like his journal and mug, was a deep shade of blue.

Butterfly pea tea. Paul had bought it for Percy after he was released from the hospital. It had seemed like such a silly gift at the time, but it had quickly become one of his favorite drinks. Paul only brewed it when Percy came home from college.

Maybe Percy could write a paragraph on tea.

“I hate olives.”

Percy looked at Paul from over his mug. Paul was circling his spoon around the lip of his cup.

“Not because I’m allergic or because they taste bad, but my sister ate a jar of them when I was six and developed a rash. We had to take her to the clinic and get her cream. Ever since I’ve hated olives, I even wrote my college essay about it.”

Paul placed a firm hand on Percy’s shoulder, looking at the demigod as though he couldn’t be any more supportive of him.

“Just because it comes from the heart doesn’t mean it also comes from a place of love. I hate olives because I love my sister. I also hate them because I hate rashes. If it’s easier, try naming something you hate and then go from there.”

Paul patted Percy on the back and went back to grading papers like nothing had happened.

Percy picked up his ballpoint pen and began to write down all the things he hated.

I hate the taste of olives.

I hate seeing Mom cry.

I hate waking up before 8 AM.

I hate quests.

I hate being a demigod.

‘Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood.’

Percy spent the rest of the afternoon writing.

When it was time for him to drive back to New Rome, he was buzzing in his seat, counting down the hours until he could show Laura all he had written down.

When he had presented the journal to Laura, he distracted himself with the bin of Legos she had stored on a shelf in her office.

When she had read through it, she snapped the book shut and dropped it on the table.

“Percy. Look at me.”

When Percy looked up at the older woman, he hadn't expected her to be teary-eyed.

“Have you ever considered becoming an author?”

By the time summer started and school was out for the season, Percy was on his way to publishing his first YA novel.

‘Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lightning Thief.’

When Percy had brought home the first copy under the alias, Rick Riordan, and had gifted it to his mother, there was no stopping the tears from either of them.

Once Percy had published the first book he had begun writing the second. Then the third. Then the fourth and fifth. Based on the feedback he was receiving from his editor and publisher, two twin sons of Calliope, students across America were loving it.

Percy hadn’t told any of his friends about his new side career, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t found out about it.

Grover was the first one to come up to him about it, clutching, The lightning thief, in his hands like it was precious treasure.

Percy had told Grover about everything he had missed when he was traveling. Laura, the journal, the next four books he had lined up, and even Paul’s story with the olives. Grover had stayed over that night, both men curled up on his mother's living room floor whispering about all the crazy things they had gotten up to following the story of Percy’s first quest. Before Grover left the next morning Percy had signed his best friend's book and promised to send him a signed copy of the second one.

The next to confront him was Annabeth. She had wanted to talk to him about so much. Gabe, her actions towards him, his time at Yancy, Luke. Everything that Percy didn’t want to talk about.

Percy did not tell her about the rest of the series.

The next person to approach him was Nico.

The son of Hades had snuck into his Mom’s house just before lunch.

“Hey Percy, or should I say Rick?”

Percy pulled Nico into a rough side hug. “That’s Mr. Riordan to you young man.”

Nico swiped half of Percy’s Italian sub off his plate. “What kind of name even is that?”

“It was my great uncle’s name. The one my mom took care of.”

“Hmm.”

Nico did not ask Percy anything else concerning the book after that. Instead, he stuck around to play pretend with Estelle and eat dinner with the Jackson-Blofis family.

“Do you want to stay the night Nico?”

Nico was in the kitchen helping Sally clean the dishes despite her protests.

“I’m sorry Sally, but I promised Father that I would be home tonight. Thank you for the dinner though.”

Once the dishes were washed and dried Sally put together a to-go plate for Nico and waved him out the door.

When Percy went to bed he picked up the copy of his book that Nico had brought with him. In between the pages was a purple bookmark. Opening the book to the page Nic had left off on Percy blushed when he saw the note Nico had left behind on it.

‘Tempted to take a nap at my dad's feet? As lithe and graceful as a panther? You are a mess, Percy.’

Percy wanted to take a very long nap in a very dark room.

The rest of Percy’s summer went by in a breeze. It was rejuvenating to spend so much time with his family again. When the summer was nearly over and fall was on its path to begin Percy wasn’t ready to say his goodbyes but his marine engineering degree wasn’t going to earn itself.

Percy was also excited to see Laura and Maggie again. He hadn’t been to the office since school ended, but they’d been skyping once every two weeks over his Mom’s laptop.

While Percy sat in the waiting room of Laura’s office making small talk with Maggie, he tried not to make it obvious that he was ecstatic to see one of the other patients reading his book in the corner of the room.

“Percy?”

“Laura!”

Rushing to greet the woman Percy couldn’t hold back the bounce in his step. For the first time in a long time, Percy was happy with what his life had become.

When Percy opened the door to his condo after his appointment with Laura, he was overwhelmed by the smell of sun-bleached bones and pomegranate.

“Nico, are you here?”

Rounding the corner, Percy gasped when he saw that it was not Nico waiting for him. In the middle of his living room, flipping through his first journal was Hades.

“Hades! What are you doing here?”

Percy watched as Hade opened the notebook and read one of the lines from it.

“I was tempted to take a nap at Hades' feet. Curl up here and sleep forever,” Percy was starting to regret including that line. “For the past three months your brother has been promoting this book of yours, it’s been driving the rest of us crazy. Especially Zeus and Ares. I wonder if your father has made it this far into the book though.”

Percy really regretted adding that sentence.

“Tell me Perseus, do you still wish to take a nap at my feet or would you prefer I ordered you to do something else?”

Percy cursed Laura for handing him that notebook.

“I…I’m…sorry?”

Hades, honest to god laughed.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about Percy. Show me your bedroom, allow me to repent for all that I’ve done to you.”

Percy couldn’t be more grateful to Laura for handing him that notebook.

[zvmz]

A few Cerise Hood HCs <3

okay so obviously- shes tall. like 5'11

ramona is 6 foot, tho. she constantly brags about being taller

once every few months, her whole family rents an air bnb in the middle of nowhere. they all go meet there and spend a few days together where no one can see. they do a full week twice a year

cerise is very ticklish, and her mom is a tickler

nobody in school knows shes ticklish because her friends are very respectful of her personal space, since cerise is uncomfortable with physical contact, and everyone else is too scared to touch her, much less tickle her

MUSCLES!!!! LOTS OF THEM!!!!!!!

she has a very unhealthy obsession with hot chips

and she will put an absolutely insane amount of hot sauce on her food. she used to use only a normal amount of hot sauce on her food, but has been slowly increasing the amount just to mess with raven, who has zero spice tolerance

always asks raven if she wants a taki when she buys a bag. again, just to mess with her

loves film bro movies. yk like christopher nolan, quentin tarentino, martin scorsese type stuff

is starting to get genuinely concerned as to why cedar hasnt picked up on her being half-wolf. i mean they LIVE TOGETHER

the truth is every time cerise slips up and does something um wolf-like, cedars like hmm interesting i guess thats just a human thing i didnt know about and forgets about it

sparrow considered cerise his cool cousin. cerise considers him her annoying cousin

used to sneak liquor with sparrow at family reunions (hood side only obviously)

does finger guns way too much

she has on multiple occasions used her cloak to pretend shes batman while singing "something in the way" in a raspy voice

knows so much gossip bc shes so quiet and in the shadows that people forget shes there and talk right in front of her

has a habit of biting her nails

went through a fnaf phase when she was 10-11

has had the same pair of ratty, falling apart converse for years now and refuses to buy new ones

running with carmine through the forest is like therapy to her. any time shes stressed she'll go for a run to take her mind off things

sometimes she'll decide to take a quick nap with carmine, but she has a habit of just falling asleep for hours in the forest

sometimes she would accidentally sleep out way past curfew and have to sneak in to her dorm

cedar taught her how to paint (i think theres actually a frame in the series showing cerise painting a wolf)

cerise doesnt paint often, but occasionally when cedar is painting, she'll come sit next to her and do her own thing

cerises dad loves rock music. he was definitely a "what band is this?" dad. music is one of the things they bond over the most

he gave her a diskman for her last birthday and has bought her a cd every time they've visited each other since then

she talks and moves around alot in her sleep

its scared the crap out of cedar on several occasions

will bite you if you steal her food

has bit ramona for stealing her food

has been bit by ramona for stealing her food

is always uncomfortable around the rich royals, but has always felt somewhat at ease around ashlynn for some reason, she has no idea why

cupid knows cerises secret, of course she knows how to spot a werewolf

she has very fast reflexes

when the students had their year book pictures taken, the photographer refused to take cerises picture unless she took her hood off. cerise argued with him for a while before she finally just walked out

she tried explaining the situation to headmaster grimm but he just told her that if she wants to be in the yearbook, she has to follow the photographers rules

the truth is grimm was getting suspicious about the hood and wanted to see what was up. he paid the photographer to try to get her to take the hood off

anyways now hes even more suspicious

eventually, once a good amount of students join the rebellion, cerise reveals her secret

once she finally looses the hood, she decides to get a haircut. she gets a wolf cut, of course

a few months after her secret is revealed, its as if her personality did a complete 180. she becomes much more confident. louder. happier.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Eyes and Ears

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: An AU where Barbara finds Jason instead of Bruce.

Chapters: 6/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Barbara Gordon, Jim Gordon, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Sheila Haywood, Original Character(s)

Relationship(s): Jason Todd/Original Character(s), Past Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Older SIbling Barbara Gordon, Jason Todd-centric, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Jason Todd is NOT Robin, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd Has a Crush, Adopted Siblings

Chapter Six: 10-42

Jason woke Barbara out of her sleep that night, and she sat up and looked at him. He seemed far away. "What's wrong?" Barbara asked. Jason sat on her bed next to her. "Jason?"

"You didn't say anything to me when we got back home... Do you want me to leave?" Jason asked. Barbara shook her head. "Then why won't you speak to me? Are you mad at me?"

"No, I'm not mad. I just—. You've been here almost three months, and I've never once seen you act like that," Barbara confessed. Jason hugged his knees.

"I just didn't want him to hurt anyone," Jason explained, "And—."

"Why didn't you stop?" Barbara blurted out. Jason's heart sank into the pit of his stomach.

Barbara didn't realize the weight her question carried. All Jason could think about was how it felt to watch his father in a blind rage and how nothing could stop him when he was angry. Jason hoped that wasn't what Barbara saw in him. He wondered if he was becoming Willis.

Barbara turned to Jason, waiting for an answer, but he didn't have one. She sat there staring as he wrung his trembling hands. "What makes a person evil?" Jason asked.

"You're not evil. Jason, everyone makes choices," she whispered.

Jason lay his head on Barbara's shoulder. "Don't get mad at my next question... Have you ever thought of going to a therapist?"

Jason pulled away. "A shrink?" he asked. Barbara nodded.

"You'd be surprised how many people throw on a costume and fight crime simply because they didn't go to therapy—."

"Then why don't you train me to fight crime?" Jason asked. Barbara shook her head.

"No," she half-yelled, "One, you're too young. Two, you don't have self-control for crime-fighting. Three, you see a lot of—."

"I've seen a lot of messed up shit, Barbara," Jason whispered. His tone worried her.

"Jason," she whispered. He looked at her with his big intense eyes, and she couldn't say yes, but she couldn't exactly say no either. "I'll train you if you agree to go to therapy."

"What's the catch?" Jason asked.

"The catch is that you don't go out until I say you're ready... But, I'll teach you everything I know, and I'll let you pick your therapist," Barbara replied. Jason leaned forward, his chin resting in his palm as he considered her proposal.

"Okay... Sure, and I know this is a way for you to shut me up and that you might never let me do what you do," Jason yawned, "But, I don't care. I'm gonna make you and Pop proud. I will." He lay back and stared up at the ceiling.

"Pop? I bet he eats that up," Barbara smiled. She looked over at Jason, who looked up pensively at the ceiling. Barbara lay back next to him. "You still having trouble sleeping?"

"Just tonight," Jason whispered, "I couldn't sleep. Kept wondering if you had second thoughts about letting me stay."

"No, I think you're meant to be here... And I hope you stay. I also hope you know I'm not always gonna be soft on you. I'm gonna be tough, and I might even seem like I'm being mean, but that's because I care about you," Barbara whispered. He didn't answer. She looked over at him, and he lay fast asleep. She took the blanket from the foot of her bed and draped it over him.

She turned on her side facing the door and drifted off to sleep. It eased her mind to talk to know Jason was okay. She woke up that morning to Jason still sleeping soundly, holding onto her arm. She tapped him lightly on his nose with her finger. Jason pushed her hand away. "Can I have my arm back?" Barbara asked.

"Barbara?" Jason asked. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Can I ask you a question?"

Barbara sat up and put on her glasses. "I'm listening," she whispered.

"Do you think people can be fixed?" Jason asked.

Barbara looked at him, and when she saw how serious he was, she answered with a soft, "It depends... If you're talking about yourself, I don't think you need to be fixed. I just think you need a little guidance... Maybe therapy—."

"No," Jason interrupted.

"Jason, just think about it. It's not as bad as it sounds. There's nothing wrong with getting a little help. Maybe you can talk about your childhood and what it's like here and—." Jason climbed out of her bed and left her alone in the room.

She covered her face and groaned. Jim knocked on her door, and she got up and let him in. "What happened?" Jim asked.

"I said the wrong thing. I know I did... Things were going fine, and I messed it up again," Barbara sighed. Jim didn't say anything. "I suggested that he go to therapy."

Jim made a pained noise. "I'll talk to him... Wait, did Jason sleep in here?" Jim asked. He held back a smile.

"He thought I was mad at him, but yeah, he slept in here. I don't think he planned on it," Barbara whispered. She wouldn't admit it, but she slept a little better knowing that Jason was close by.

"I'll talk to him. Besides, I think it'll be nice to do some father-son bonding," Jim replied, with a proud smile on his face. He kissed the top of Barbara's head and left her to get ready.

Jim went about the rest of his morning, and Jason eventually came out and made himself a bowl of cereal. "Want to go on a ride with me after breakfast?" Jim asked casually. Jason nodded. Jim smiled and messed up Jason's hair as he walked past. "Do you need me to change the bandages on your face?"

"No thanks. I changed them a minute ago," Jason replied before drinking the milk in his cereal. "Hey, Pop? Can I still call you pop?"

"Of course you can," Jim answered, "On one condition... I can tell anyone who asks that you're my son."

Jason put his bowl in the sink so that Jim couldn't see him smiling. "You've got a deal, Pop," Jason whispered, "So where are we going?"

Jim chuckled and playfully scooped Jason under his arm and carried him to the car. Jason laughed with him. "It's just a ride, Jason," Jim replied once he put Jason down, and they both got in the car. They rode around in silence for a few minutes until Jim felt it was the right time to speak. "Jason... You know Barbara didn't mean any harm this morning, right?"

"She told you what she said to me?" Jason asked. Jim nodded.

"And I have to admit, I felt that way when I was young too... But I see a therapist now," Jim explained.

"How come?" Jason asked as he stared out of the window.

"I see a lot of things in the field. But I also have trouble sorting through my day-to-day emotions sometimes... But that's okay, Jason," Jim paused to take a deep breath, "How would you feel about me going with you?"

"I never said I'd go," Jason replied. Jim shrugged and bounced his head from side to side.

"Well, do you want to tell me what your childhood was like?" Jim asked.

Jason shook his head. "Why does it matter?" he questioned in reply.

"Your past makes you who you are, good or bad. Your past is important. What about your past hurts so bad that you can't talk about it?" Jim asked.

He didn't expect an answer from Jason, so he was surprised when Jason broke the silence with a soft, "What if I say it out loud and no one listens? What if no one takes me seriously?" Jason answered.

"It's hard keeping all those thoughts and memories inside yourself. Jason, you've got to trust someone at some point. We love you, and we just want to understand you... It's a weight off your shoulders when you know someone really understands how you feel," Jim explained softly. Jason's chest was tight as he held back tears. "Besides, if something bothers you, it's serious to me. You don't seem like the type of kid to exaggerate."

"Okay... But you promise you'll be there with me?" Jason mumbled. Jim nodded.

"I'll be there with you for as long as you need me to be," Jim whispered, "Jason, I know exactly how strange it can feel to open up to people that you barely know... But it does help."

"Do you like going?" Jason asked. Jim nodded.

He turned on a street that Jason wasn't familiar with. "It's okay. You're gonna have good days and bad days with therapy, like with school. Treat it as a challenge to do your best because it'll really help you," Jim explained.

"Guess I owe Barbara an apology," Jason whispered. Jim messed up Jason's hair.

"I'd wait a little while if I were you. Surprise Babs. If you change your mind right away, she'll know it's because I talked to you. Let her have this one," Jim replied. Jason nodded, and Jim changed the subject. "I got an email from your history teacher. She said you've got an impressive grasp on the content. Not sure what the content is, but I just want you to know I'm proud of you. I know homeschool is weird and that you're working really hard to catch up... I just want you to know you're speeding along just fine and that I'm not only proud of you. I'm amazed." Jim smiled, only when he noticed his commendation made Jason smile.

Jim's phone rang, and he nudged Jason. "Answer that for me," Jim sighed. Jason put the phone on speaker. "Jim Gordon."

"Ten-forty-two at the Opera House," the officer replied. Jim cursed.

"I'll be right there as soon as I drop my kid off," Jim answered, and Jason hung up the phone for him.

"Pop, what's a ten-forty-two?" Jason asked. Jim didn't want to answer because he didn't want Jason to worry. Jason asked a second time.

"It's a bomb threat," Jim took a deep breath, "I'm gonna drop you off with Barbara—."

"No, you can't," Jason replied. Jim shook his head.

"Actually, I have to. Jason, I'm gonna drop you off with Barbara, and the second I'm done with work, I'll come back and take you out for ice cream—."

"I don't want ice cream. I don't want you to go. Just tell everyone you can't go," Jason started to raise his voice.

"Jason, take a deep breath—."

"You can't go! Let someone else go!" Jason yelled.

"I have done things like this before, I will do this again, and I will be fine. Call Barbara for me," Jim commanded in a stern tone of voice. Jason obeyed. "Hey, are you at work?"

"Yeah, what's wrong? I thought it was your day—. What is it?" Barbara asked.

"Ten-forty-two. I'm dropping Jason off with you," Jim replied. Jason turned away from Jim and crossed his arms. Jim knew Jason wasn't angry, but it still hurt to make him so upset. "Jason, I'm gonna take you out for ice cream as soon as I can get away."

[mattoidmeerkat]

This is me working through my main issues with Bathena in 7x01. If you have no issues with the transition from 6x18 to 7x01, I'm happy for you and there's nothing to see here. If you'd do see some issues and/or are willing to help me work through some of them, please continue reading after the cut.

Disclaimer: The long hiatus and my recent cold definitely did not positively influence my experience. I'm aware of this.

Man, I'm so conflicted about Bathena's story in 7x01. I mean, the acting was top notch. The scenes and dialogue? Instant classics. The dancing? Swoooon. And we finally get to explore the foundation of their relationship? What's not to love?

Well, this really feels like the perfect follow up to Season 4. They had just addressed their communications issues and still had topics to work through. They would soon be empty nesters and didn't know how that would impact them.

But this isn't the beginning of Season 5. This is Season 7. Since then we have seen Athena and Bobby go through so much separately and together. They have grown closer and have developed their communication skills and the foundation of their relationship.

They struggled together and supported each other through the Hudson ordeal and the fallout around Harry in 5A. We've seen them make time to focus on their intimate relationship (5x09, 6x13) and to sharing personal history (5x15, 6x02, 6x03, 6x13) and support each other through oh so much personal trauma (5A, 5x14, 5x16, 5x17, 6x02, 6x03, 6x09, 6x12, 6x17). They've put the other's happiness before their own without a moment's hesitation (5x05) and developed a deep and easy intimacy with each other (5x08, 5x09, 5x11, 5x15, 5x17, 6x02, 6x08, 6x12, 6x13, 6x17) without ever losing their individuality in the process. Athena built a relationship with Bobby's sponsor and Bobby shared his AA world with her. Athena allowed herself to be vulnerable with him by admitting fears while she developed a deep understanding of how Bobby worked on a fundamental level (6x14).

And then Tim came back and decided nope, none of this. Gonna reset Athena to Season 4 (when he left as showrunner) and leave Bobby as confused as me.

I love me some good angst and conflict to explore characters and their dynamics. But what explanation were we given for this drastic change in Athena's personality? She is afraid to find out who they are when it's just the two of them? Which we have just seen again and again in Season 5 but much more so in Season 6?

Characters being flawed and acting irrationally is not bad writing. On the contrary, it can be excellent writing because flawless characters are boring and bland. And Athena and Bobby are so deliciously flawed. Have been from the very beginning.

So why not provide us with an explanation for how 6x18 Athena went from happy and confident in her marriage after settling into her empty nest with Bobby for a year, to the neurotic mess we see in 7x01? (A highly entertaining and cute mess, but still a completely different Athena than literally one episode before.)

How did 6x18 Athena, after recently celebrating her fourth wedding anniversary with Bobby and saving him from a bridge collapse, from one moment to the other decide to go to therapy (something she canonically avoids like the plague - see Seasons 3, 4, and 5) and do a 180 on cruises (despite copious discussions of cruises her fear did not come up with Bobby in 5x18, 6x01 or 6x18, with May in 6x01, or with Hen in 6x01, or in the conversation about cruises with her parents in 6x01 despite those two apparently being responsible for that fear)? How did that Athena then board the cruise with Bobby at the end of 6x18 full of joy and happy anticipation after a last minute cancellation? And how did Athena then manage to have a therapist appointment about the last-minute cruise two months in advance somehow?

I'd love to find some explanations for this beyond sloppy writing at best and blatant disregard for the prior story lines at worst.

At this point my only hope is that the next two episodes will shed some light onto what exactly triggered Athena's abrupt change in personality from one episode to the other. (actually retroactively within the previous episode somehow) But I won't get my hopes up too much because so many of Athena's, Bobby's and Bathena's story lines have been left to fizzle out without any kind of explanation or resolutions over the years (under both Tim and Kirsten).

So what's my takeaway here? I desperately want to love this episode. It has so many amazing scenes. But the retconning is making it really difficult for me to process as a coherent story line. And that's on me. Shows do this all the time. THIS show has done it plenty of times in the past.

But I feel so sad that I seem to care more about Season 5 and 6 Bathena than the show itself. It feels dismissive of the growth those two have gone through. And it makes me fearful of what kind of disregard the show might display towards these characters, their arcs, and their growth journeys in the future.

Thoughts? Helpful ideas? Number of a good therapist? 😅️ (One that doesn't just say "I'm sure you'll be fine.")

[allsadnshit]

Those 35mm photos are beautiful! If you don’t mind, and sorry if you’ve answered this before, but would you mind sharing how you and your husband met? You two have a beautiful relationship

oh jeez everyone knows this is my favorite question lol

my husband and I met through being tumblr mutuals when we were probably around 17! we lived in the same state but still 6 hours apart so we never thought of each other as a tangible person to know and meet, it was truly just a silly little internet friendship liking each other's posts and occasionally messaging about little things like books we were reading or music we listened to but never anything lengthy or personal.

that went on for like 7-8 years, sometimes not talking for a long period of time because we really were just internet friends! then when I was 24, before my endometriosis diagnostic surgery, I was at my absolute sickest I'd ever been. pretty much totally house-ridden and also in a really transitional moment because I had just finally had a long term very not fulfilling relationship end + was processing a lot alone quarantined in my house because covid lockdowns just started. I had a conversation with a really close friend where I said I felt like I had always just been dating passively in relation to who was close by and never really on "dream person" levels and she asked who I'd hit up if I could date anyone and Myles was who came to mind to me! So the next time he dm'd me on ig about something silly like complimenting my new shoes I posted I flirted for the first time and he responded enthusiastically and we realized we had always quietly had little crushes on each other!

we talked every day for like a month while I moved to a new short term lease and went through lots of urgent care visits figuring out my next moves medically, and he decided we couldn't wait any longer to meet so he bought a car and drove 5 hours to pittsburgh in the night after work one weekend and we met outside my new apartment that had no furniture yet at 1 am and spent the whole night talking. we knew we were very very in love right away, and even though that first weekend ended with him having to take me to the ER from extreme pain that turned out to be from constipation because of how truly nervous I was LOL he came back a week or two later and stayed full week! at the end of that week we decided he'd move in with me for the rest of my 6 month lease while I got surgery then moved to philly to finish his lease together.

myles and I both hadn't ever really been in a relationship so serious or passionate so it was really really scary at times when we fought or felt like we would mess things up with each other but we both dug really deep to learn how to talk to each other in a way we had never communicated with anyone else and touched some really important parts of ourselves to really get to know one another's fears and desires and eloped a little over a year after meeting!

he's totally changed my understanding how much you can trust, depend on, or love someone. it's opened me up to healing in every other part of my life (going to therapy, having big talks my family, starting new careers, etc) <3

[logbush]

First Love

1247 words

angst

quinn fabray x reader

A/n: i am working on all of your requests i promise!! i'm just trying to get out everything i already have written by now. please send in your requests!!

quinn sighed as she looked at her clock, 6:30 am, time to get up. she groaned and leaned up. she hadn’t been to school since it happened. that was three months ago. people began wondering if she was okay, she had people knocking at her door just for her mom to say “she’s okay, no need to worry”. of course, people were worried anyways. her mom opened her door, the light quickly blinding the blond “quinnie, i need you to go to school,” she said quietly. “if it becomes too much you can call me and ill come pick you up. but i would really like it if you could make it a full day honey,”

quinn groaned. it already felt too much. she got up and went to her bathroom, not caring enough to turn the light on. she began running a brush through her hair, as soon as she caught a tangle she stopped caring and walked down stairs. she put a pair of slides on before walking out of the door, “can i walk?” she asked her mom hoarsely. her mom nodded “of course honey, stay safe.”

quinn walked into school about ten minutes after she left her house. she wasn’t paying attention as she walked down the hall. everyone else was however. she looked like a walking zombie, makeup on from three months ago, a mess of her hair, her clothes were stained in all of the colors in the rainbows. she didnt care, you weren’t there. there wasn’t anything for her to look good for anymore. santana and brittany spotted her from across the hall and rushed over to her. “oh girl..” santana started before taking quinn’s hand and walking with her to an empty classroom. brittany walked next to them “you look like me after i left the sewers” brittany said once they reached the classroom. santana looked at quinn and sat down on one of the desks.

“say something quinn” santana stated, looking at the blonde. quinn shrugged “theres nothing to say” she said meekly. brittany stood behind quinn gently rubbing her shoulders, trying to loosen her up. “you need to get out the anger you’re holding, because this” santana paused, using her finger to look up and down at the blonde “this is not the quinn i know” the blonde let out a shaky breath before collapsing on the floor, crying in a way she hadn’t since it happened. “it should’ve been me” she said in between sobs. santana and brittany knelt down next to her, wrapping their arms around her.

“i really think this rachel and finn getting married thing is stupid” you said in the passenger side of quinn’s car. she was driving to the chapel they had planned on, her hand on your thigh. “i dont either, they’re really young dont you think?” you nodded in reply “i mean they’re going to end up together anyways, might as well get it over with now” she chuckled softly. the blonde looked down at her phone as it kept buzzing.'WHERE ARE YOU??' it read. she grabbed her phone deciding to quickly text rachel back “hey dont text and drive, didnt your parents ever teach you that?” you said jokingly, you were on the back roads, what could happen? quinn began typing her text. as soon as she did she heard a honk before a loud CRASH. quinn was out for a few minutes, but as soon as she woke up she looked at you, you were pale “y/n? can you hear me?” no response. she felt tears form in her eyes before she heard sirens.

“quinn?” santana said softly “we’re here for you,” she hugged the blonde tighter. brittany then spoke up “i can see if i can get you a therapy session with lord tubbington but hes kind of backed up this month” quinn shook her head “i cant believe i was so stupid.” she yelled out. santana shook her head “no you’re not stupid” santana reassured. the blonde stood up and shook her head “santana. my stupidity killed the love of my life. i am the reason y/n isn’t here anymore. its my fault.” she yelled out, emphasizing certain words to get her point across. santana grabbed quinn’s hand before yanking her into the choir room.

quinn’s tears were still falling as she walked in. the glee club looked stunned “wow, quinn, its good to see you” mr schuester said as she stood still “i cant be here” she mumbled before running out of the room.

quinn sat in the waiting room of the hospital, it was a miracle she made it out with little injuries, just a little scrape on her forehead. you must've taken most of the blunt force. “ms. fabray? would you like to see y/n now? she’s in a coma, we’re not sure if she will make it out” a nurse asked once she walked in. the blonde shot up and nodded before following the nurse to your room. she walked in before her heart dropped to her stomach. you were laid down on the bed, wires coming out of you, attached to different medical devices. the quiet beeping of the heart rate monitor flooded her senses. she pulled up a chair and sat next to you before finally breaking down. “im so sorry y/n,” she said taking her hand in yours. “im so sorry i ever let this happen to you. this is all my fault.” she began breathing heavy “i know you can make it out of this. you’re strong enough.” her sobs took over her. her head laid on your stomach, not trying to hold it back anymore.

“how was your day honey?” quinn’s mom asked once she walked in the door. the blonde ignored her, instead just going straight up to her room. she sat on her bed curled up for hours in one of your hoodies, replaying that moment over and over again.

quinn sat on the bed next to you, desperately trying to pretend you’re still with her. she was holding your hand with her head on your chest, just like she used to do. the beeping from the heart monitor was keeping her calm. until, it stopped. quinn shot up as soon as she heard the flat line, spamming the 'call nurse' button desperately. the nurse rushed in with a doctor. the nurse tried to usher quinn out of the room but she stood still. the doctor sighed before shaking her head “we were too late” she mumbled “what are you talking about?” quinn asked “bring her back. please.” she begged. the doctor shook her head “we cant” the doctor stated. the blonde fell to her knees. “we’ll give you some time” said the nurse. quinn stood back up and looked down at you. “im so sorry baby” she managed to get out between her sobs. she knelt back down before taking your necklace off and putting it on herself, a way for her to always keep your memory alive within her. “i love you, i will never love anyone as much as i love you,” she started “im so sorry i let this happen to you” her sobs quickly overwhelmed her. she held you for as long as she was able.

within a matter of seconds, you were taken from her. everything she had planned was wiped away from her. she didnt know if she could recover. she didn't know how she could recover.

[jedi-lothwolf]

Whump: The Musical Day 6: Newsies (Chronic Pain)

Fandom: The Bad Batch

Summary: Crosshair finally does something about his hand.

  Crosshair hated Hemlock. Never before had he hated someone so much. As he watched his hand shake, he knew that if he ever saw the scientist again, he would shoot his in the stomach and drive his rifle into the wound. He would make him feel as helpless and as awful as he felt.

    It wasn't just the shaking. His arm had been in pain for months. There was nothing he could do. Pain medicine made it bearable, sometimes it even kept it from hurting, but like a river, the dam could only stop it for so long.

    So, Crosshair started to think there was nothing he could do. It had been months.

    Tech would have known. But, Tech was dead. Az should know but he didn't have the technology he needed. Crosshair was too nervous to go to the hospital on Pabu. He knew he shouldn't wait, but he wanted someone to go with him and he wasn't going to take the kid. Hunter would be his best opinion but he couldn't face him yet.

    This morning, Crosshair grabbed the last of his stolen pain meds and put them in his mouth. The bitter taste lingered on his tongue as he swallowed the pills. But the pain wouldn't leave him alone.

    As the day went on, Crosshair seemed detached. It appeared that he was always thinking about something. The batch didn't know rather to give him space or if they should talk to him.

    "I'm going to talk to him" Hunter finally said. 

    "Normally Cross doesn't like to talk to us about these kinds of things unless he comes to us." It wasn't that Wrecker didn't want to talk to his brother, he just didn't want to make anything worse.

    "He's in pain, I can tell. I don't want him to hide that from us."

    "Okay."

    So Hunter went to find his brother. Crosshair was in tears when he found him. Holding his wrist, the sniper tried not to look at him.

    "What's wrong?" Hunter came to sit beside Crosshair.

    "I'm fine" he scowled.

    "You're crying."

    "I said I'm fine."

    "What's going on?" Hunter sounded so calm. He talked to him with all the patients he had, maybe more.

    "My hand" Crosshair sighed, "my hand was messed up at Tantiss . It hurts Hunter." The man looked over at his brother, tired. "It hurts all the time and I'm out of pain meds."

    It took a moment before Hunter said anything. "okay. Let's take you to the hospital. They might be able to do something for you." Seeing Hunter reach out to him, helped. It almost felt like nothing happened.

    The two walked to the hospital together. Hunter went in first and whispered something to the nurse at the front desk that Crosshair couldn't hear. The sniper followed his brother inside. After a while, the two were called back.

    "So the nurse tells me that your wrist has been bothering you."

    "Yes."

    "Alright, lets take a look." The doctor took Crosshair's hand into her own. After talking for a while, the doctor ordered a few tests. She was determined to get to the source of Crosshair's pain.

    A NCV showed that the man had nerve damage.

    "Unfortunately, we would have to operate. Even then the pain and the damage will never completely heal. I'm sorry but you'll need a brace to help steady your hand and we'll put you on pain medicine for the chronic pain."

    "That's it?" Crosshair sighed. "How soon can you do the surgery and how soon can I have those meds?"

"Soon and soon. I'll get everything scheduled. About once a month you'll come here to pick up your medication. After your surgery we'll put you in physical therapy to help with the recovery."

"Okay."

"Thank you doc." Hunter stood.

The brothers walked outside. "It's a start" the older of the two said.

Crosshair looked at his hand. He took two of the Gabapentin pills. Then he put his dark gray brace on. "Okay."

[alotofpockets]

Seeking help | Kate Bishop

Paring: Kate Bishop x Reader

Warnings: Reader deals with mental health issues, mentioned anxiety and depression. Angst.

Summary: Reader seeks help for their mental health at a institution that offers a 6 month program. Will Kate wait for y/n, despite y/n saying she can move on?

A/N: I apologize for any inaccuracies, please remember that this is fiction and I don't have all experiences myself.

Masterlist | Marvel masterlist | Words: 1.3k

You’ve been struggling with mental health issues for a long time now, but lately your anxiety and depression have been getting worse again. Taking your medicine doesn’t seem to have any effect and it’s making you very easily agitated. You’re noticing yourself sinking away, and messing up in your relationship more and more. While struggling to take care of yourself, it feels impossible to also be there for Kate. It’s not like you don’t want to, you’re just unable to. 

It had never been this bad and you knew that you needed help, you had done some research and found a program a couple of cities over. It was a mental health institution that focussed on long term mental issues, they offered psychologists, psychiatrists, doctors to help with medication, among many other things that you felt like you might need on your journey on getting better. 

Now came the part where you had to tell Kate. You were not looking forward to the conversation but you know you had to do it sooner or later. Kate sat down with you at the kitchen table while you explained the struggles you’ve been facing. “I need help Kate, I can’t keep going like this.” You could see that Kate was trying to stay strong, she had noticed things weren’t going well of course, and she had tried to support you to the best of her abilities. She didn’t know it had gotten this bad though. The two of you had a big conversation on your options. But you had your heart set on being alone and getting professional help. 

"I don't want to lose you, but if I keep going like this, I know I will. I need to get this help, it's a six month program. One of the program's rules is no outside contact.” Next came the part of the conversion that you were dreading. “ I love you, Kate, but I don't want you to wait around for me, that wouldn't be fair. I want you to live your life Kate, and if that means you're moving on from me, that's okay." It hurt you to say that but like you said, you hadn't been good for her and who knows if the program would even help you get better. You couldn't ask her to wait for you, to see if you'd get back to the loving girlfriend you had been before. Kate knew better than to argue with you when you had your mind set on something. With tears streaming down her face she let you know that she understood. "When are you leaving?" You didn't want to hurt her more, which is why you signed yourself up right away. “I’m leaving tonight. There's a bus that leaves at 9pm." Kate was quiet for a moment. "Please let me drive you?" You nod in agreement, "Okay." 

You say your goodbyes as she hands you your bags. Kate is about to turn back around to her car when you take her hand and pull her into a hug. “I’m sorry.” You say barely above a whisper. As you’re walking towards the entrance Kate calls after you, “Take care of yourself please.” You freeze in place, that’s the point you can no longer hold back your tears. “You too.” You say without turning back around. You open the door and walk to the reception desk to officially sign in. 

** SIX MONTHS LATER **

After six months of therapy, hard work and lots of group sessions, you finally felt like you were starting to be yourself again. You were happy, for the most part at least. You were scared to go back to your old life without having Kate by your side, but you would have to get used to that. You packed up all your stuff, including all of the journals and workbooks you had used during your stay, and headed out the door. 

You looked around wondering in which direction the bus stop was, since you didn’t end up taking it on the way there, when your eyes landed on a familiar car. You couldn't believe what you saw when you moved your eyes over a bit more and saw Kate sitting on a nearby bench. You rushed to her, hoping that maybe she hadn't given up on you after all, though she could also be here as a friend of course, so you rushed with caution. 

Kate stood up when she saw you heading her way. The smile on her face and love in her eyes was enough for you to know that your hope wasn't misplaced. You drop your bags and run the last few feet. You ran right into her arms, a place you missed so dearly. Her smell surrounded you and immediately made you feel like you were home. You held each other in silence for a long time. "I missed you so much." Kate whispered, breaking the silence. You felt your eyes welling up with tears, “I missed you too.” 

After a long time you break the hug. “Can I take you home?” Kate asks nervously. You smile at her, “Yes please.” The drive home is quiet, both just enjoying being in each other's presence again. Back home you sit down on the couch, Kate sits down with you. “I guess we’ve got some things that we need to talk about, right?” You nod and grab one of your notebooks. 

“Well, first off, I guess I should ask where we stand. You know, since I told you moving on would be okay.” Kate takes no time to respond to your question, “I am with you through the bad and the good, moving on was never an option. I think we might need to work on some things, but in my eyes it’s still you and me.” You're relieved to hear her say that. “To me too. And yeah, on the topic of working on things. I will continue to have weekly therapy sessions, and if you’re up for it I would like you to join me for a few.” Kate nods, “Of course.” You continue, “I need to pick up my new meds tomorrow and start on them right away, as well as log my thoughts and stuff like that. But that is for me personally, I know you were talking more about us related things. That’s where the notebook comes in. I have gotten lots of tips and exercises we could do to improve our communication on these harder topics, and the improvement from my side of course. Besides that I am open to whatever you want and need. I want to ensure that I won’t hurt you like I did again.” 

Together you read through the provided exercises, before sharing stuff from your time spent apart. When you’re all caught up Kate turns to you again. “There’s one thing I’ve been wanting to ask you ever since I saw you walk up to me.” - “What’s up? You can ask me anything.” 

“Can I kiss you?” Your lips curl up into a smile. Instead of answering her question with words you place your hand on her cheek and lean forward. Your lips meet hers, and the familiar feeling of her soft lips engulfs your senses. It was a soft kiss filled with longing. Once you parted from the kiss you stayed close to her, “I love you, Kate. Thank you for everything, it means the world to me.” Kate starts playing with your hair, an action that always soothes you, “I love you too.” “Can we order some pizzas?” Kate smiles “Oh, yes, for sure!”

[barnesboo1967]

The Farmer’s Daughter - Prologue

Series Summary: After Tyler’s last ride, he’s been lying around the house. His parents decide he needs a summer job. Lucky for him the owner of the town rodeo needs a new farm hand. But just when he thought it couldn’t no hotter the farmer’s daughter comes home from Aggie Land. Will they have a sweet summer lovin’ or will the break up in a small town

A/N: So this is my first fanic (Wattpad doesn’t count). After seeing Twister it somehow sparked my writing itch again. So that’s how we got this. I wasn’t sure that I would make this a series, but felt like it was worth a shot. Please Please give me honest feedback, like I said this is my first fic. I will be putting a lot of country references in this so you have been warned. And I know I am shit with my grammar so I am so so so sorry if I mess up a lot. At this point I am just rambling on and on.

That night had been haunting him. it hadn’t even been 6 seconds. But that 5 second ride changed his life forever. He spent a week in the hospital to treat his injuries. One fractured knee, a broken hand, dislocated shoulder, and a mild concussion. He then spent two months in physical therapy. But even after all of that he would never be able to ride again, his mom wouldn’t let him. The second he brought it up, she shut up down. She didn’t want to see her son go through that again.

So for the following 3 months, Tyler rarely left the house. Why would he? All his friends still rode and he couldn’t. It wasn’t like they didn’t reach out, but he never answered. He just stayed home. His parents knew how hurt their son was when he couldn’t ride. For years riding was his life and now it was all gone. They couldn’t bare to see their son just laying around. Their son who used to be so full of life, was now a shell of that young man. They knew something had to change.

That was how he found himself hauling hay and feeding hogs. His parents had managed to get him a job with the local rodeos owner, as a farm hand. Working in the Texas summer heat. Tyler was ready to quit, but just then he saw an unfamiliar red jeep pull up.

Grace just finished her second year of college. She had been missing home as the year came to an end. As much as she loved her cheerleading college life, she also missed the quiet small town life. Her heart swelled as she saw that all to familiar two story white house. All the FaceTime calls was nothing compared to being able to wrap her ma’s neck. Or the feeling of being in her daddy’s arms once again, she had always been a daddies girl (not like that get your mind out of the gutter).

It had only been a couple months since she last saw Maverick, her little brother, but he shot up like a rocket. He gave her the classic teenage side hug before getting the majority of her bags for her. She noticed an unfamiliar single cab burnt orange Chevy parked by the barn.

As she walked into her childhood home, she was attacked by her baby. A year old black lab named Trigger. “Hi sweet boy, did you miss me?” She said as she squatted down to love on him. Trigger proceeded to show his love by licking all over her face. She stood back up and headed up to her room. It was still the same she had left it when she came home for Easter. She put her bag on her bed and walked over to the window. Her room had the best view of the farm, overlooking all of it perfectly. As she looked out she noticed an unfamiliar face.

Tyler was finishing up loading some hay into the ranger to go feed the cows. When he heard the sweetest voice come from behind him “Hi, I am Grace. I hadn’t seen you around here before and thought I would introduce myself and bring you some lemonade.” He took the glass of ice cold lemonade from Grace, “Well thank you ma’am, I am Tyler. Nice to meet you.” Tyler said with his southern accent. “Of course, nice to meet you too. Well, I’ll let you get back to work.” Grace said, heading back into the house.

Tyler stays on her mind as she helps her ma with dinner.

Grace stays on his mind as him and the guys herd cows.

And that’s how it would stay for days.

Staying on each other’s mind.

But never talking.

Please please let me know what y’all think.

[medig]

A Tale of Woe, Ep. 32: The New New Girl

(previous episodes)

"Claire.. tell me how you got here, you don't seem.. like someone who should be locked up in a mental hospital"

["sorry ma'am, just doing my job, the handcuffs are for your own protection.."]

"It's a funny story, Beth. About 6 months ago I checked the wrong box on some health insurance forms I was filling out for work. In the mental health section, I clicked something by accident, answered ‘yes’ to a question I should have answered ‘no’. I changed it back, but it was too late, someone had already seen it. The next day when I was sitting at my desk my boss came over with some cops and EMTs and told me I had to go with them right away, the next thing you know they put me in an ambulance and whisked me over here, and I've been here ever since. Do you remember anything yet, about how you got here?"

"Sort of. Stuff is coming back slowly. The last thing I remember, I was at my friend's party. I don't remember past a certain point in the night. Next thing I know I wake up here, and nobody will tell me anything. I can only guess I drank too much and went 'crazy' and someone called 9-1-1, and they came and got me and brought me here, just like you. But I don't remember doing or saying anything to make people think I was insane. I don't even think I was that drunk, I don't even feel very hungover."

"Nobody here cares if you're sane Beth. And nobody here wants to cure you, if there was anything wrong with you. They'll make you worse if they can. I wasn't crazy when I came here, but I might be now! These people want to keep you here, for as long as they can, because it's fun for them, you're just a toy here for them to mess with..."

"Oh God Claire I want to go home! How can I get out of here?"

"If I knew the answer to that I wouldn't be here either. All I can say is, don't trust any of the people who work here. Especially Dr. [Redacted]! I swear if that man was not a doctor he'd be a serial killer."

"You're scaring me more and more. So what do they do at this 'hospital', what are the treatments like?"

"Well, you already saw what group therapy is like here - you’re supposed to talk about your problems but you're not allowed to say anything bad about this place which is the problem. Then there's the drugs. Lots of drugs. Mostly unrelated to whatever mental illness you’re supposed to have. Finally there's what my friend Mystique said would called Desensitization if they did it right, except they do it really really wrong "

"W-what is that?"

"Well, do you have any fears? Phobias? Things that make you squirm? They're going to figure them out, or make a good guess, and then do whatever it is to you, supposedly until you get used to it."

"Can I ask... what is your.. thing?"

"Well, uh.. It's kinda hard to talk about, it's so.. well nothing dangerous, it's just so humiliating.. the only person I talk to about it is Mystique"

"Oh please tell me!"

[".. think warm thoughts, Claire, this thermometer is mighty cold.."]

"They take my temperature, with that kind of thermometer. You know, the kind that goes in back there. Way more often than could possibly be neccessary. And all my drugs all go in that way. Suppositories, like people give babies. I'm not even allowed to have pills! I don't even know what medications I'm on. For all I know it's all placebos, and the way they give it to me is the whole point. And they monitor how often I go to the bathroom, and if I don't go enough... oh God.. the enemas ..ugh.. <sound of trying not to throw up> and the whole time I swear they make a point of talking about it, because that that makes it that much more embarrassing.. like they think it's fun.."

"Oh that sounds horrible.. Is.. Is that what they're gonna do to me?"

"Maybe. Ive heard if they can’t think of anything they start out with little bit of my kind of treatment until they come up with something. Most patients 'graduate' up to something else pretty soon, but they're sticking with it for me because I 'love' it so much <shudder>. Are they letting you wear panties by any chance?"

"No! No bra, no panties, this gown is open in the back. Been like this since I got here."

"Yeah there's a pretty good chance I'm right about what they're planning to start with'"

"<whimper> I'm doomed.. "

"Oh I’m so sorry to have to tell you all this.. we'll do what we can for you, Myst and me. She's been here over a year and knows way more about this place, she even fooled them into wasting their time doing things that don't really bother her. I wish Mystique was here right now. I wonder where she is.."

[fictionalmenmakemecry]

Bruce Wayne's therapist

Author's note: Hey guys! It's been awhile and to be honest I've been craving some Batman since watching the movie ( I'm well aware that it's been over a year). I've been going back and forth wondering if I should. So here's a sample of my ideas. Let me know what you think!

Ps. This is not going to be accurate to any comics. Please don't come after me. I'm just having fun with my imagination!

Characters: Bruce Wayne x Reader (Fem!)

Summary: Bruce and you have an arrangement for both of your needs. No feelings, strictly services which you are happy to participate in.

Warnings: Fluff

"You should be asleep" I spoke out into the dark quiet room.

Computer screens were the only source of light creating his silhouette.

"Mhmm" He grumbled completely slumped in his chair.

I walked over closer to see the usual site. Bruce staring at different CCTV footage of Gotham City.

His eyes drooped with fatigue and the permanent residue of black smudges around his eyes, giving him a deathly appearance.

His eyes slowly crawled their way to me but his head never moved.

"I don't know anymore. The more I try, the worse it seems" He mumbled.

"I don't think you're going to figure it out tonight" I murmured.

We stayed in silence for awhile. He was reluctant to leave his desk but he knew I wasn't going to move. He pulled himself up out of his chair. His stature slowing towering over me.

I still couldn't believe he was Batman. I knew Bruce had a rough background but to turn into someone like Batman... Well, that was fucked.

Finding out Bruce was Batman was an accident but not a mistake I made. Stumbling upon this bomb happened in a moment of madness. But only the madness Batman would find himself in. Of course, me being in the center of it.

I was a childhood friends before anything happened to him. Before the devastation of his parents passing. We lost contact or I guess he just disappeared off the face of the earth after that. I always wondered what came of him.

As much of an recluse he is. I did run into him and after all the years, I'm surprised we recognized each other. His face going pale when he first landed his eyes on me, I still remember clear as day. But that's when I met Bruce not Batman. Which is a whole other story.

I looked up at him. His hair a mess on his head.

"Come on, let's get to bed" I nudged him lightly.

He didn't budge.

He leaned his head down making light pecks on my neck. I angled my head wanting him to keep going.

"Mhmm" I moaned quietly, feeling his hands on my hips and his thumb sneaking it's way under my shirt.

Before I knew it, he had lifted me on his desk, He wedged himself between my legs looking me in the eyes.

"I need this" He whispered.

"I know" I said softly looking into his bloodshot eyes.

He dropped his head making me comb my fingers through his dirty hair.

To say that Bruce was under pressure was an understatement. He put pressure on himself to make a change, to deal with his trauma and to solve everyone's problems. He held everything on his shoulders and when it came down to it. Sex was the only thing that broke him down from all of that.

No strings attached. He made that clear. He didn't want a relationship. He wanted therapy, in the form of sex. Which I would gladly give and have given him, for the past 6 months.

Of course, within those 6 months I did find out his big secret. To be honest, I'm not saying fucking batman was not on my bucket list but it is now and yes, yes I have crossed it off. He refuses to fuck me in the suit which I've asked several times.

But I need to remember that fucking him is fun for me, but it's needed for him and I guess fucking in the suit just doesn't do the same job, therapy wise.

I felt my shirt getting lifted more and more until I had to raise my arms to get it off me. His eyes trailing down my body with an underlying hunger which made me squirm. His fingers grazed my collarbone to my shoulder making it way to the side of my breast.

I took a deep breath, feeling the teasing get to me like usual. He glanced up giving me the weakest of smiles.

Him seeing me squirm under his touch, I don't know if he got off on it or it made him relax. Either way it made me lose all of respect for myself and beg him to just slam me. Which he never did. He dragged it out as much as possible.

Savoring the peace he felt within those moments.

Masterlist for other fics

[theno1joelhater]

good morrow, you. time for a gus lighter rant because he is such an interesting little dude. there are sources/links at the bottom

Gus Lighter my love, my light, the center of my galaxy, i love you so very much but YOU. WHAT ARE YOUR MOTIVES ???? what is the point of all the (max) harm you cause ?? what the hell are you doing you damn character ??? are you just fucking with them? is this for your own personal enjoyment? is this some kind of kink? WHY

firstly, i dont think his title does him justice. he’s not some human therapist who needs therapy—gus lighter isn’t a human at all. either that or at least implied to be some kind of non-human eldritch creature. just look at his video with gabriel (1). he does weird things !!!! things that people can’t do !! also, in his vid w officer avoidy (2) he says that avoidy’s in purgatory. makes you think !!!

now, i get that gus’ whole thing is that he lies and is a lier man but !!! what if that was true. what if avoidy is in purgatory. what if gus lighter was some kind of demon sent out to…idk mess with the cgcu? judge them? i still dont get his motives. this has been entirely unproductive!! the only thing we got was his potential species.

then again, the purgatory demon theory is sorta not great. the whole thing with purgatory is that it’s any empty void where souls await judgement. this leads me into my next theory: gus could be the being judging whether they get into heaven or hell. however, this theory would imply that everyone is already dead. and they’d all be unaware of it too, based off the fact that the justin case storyline exists (sorry, just had to mention it). justin’s whole plan is to convert everyone to him so that he wouldn’t die, but that would be completely thrown out the window if they were all already dead. also bjorn yesterday’s death wouldn’t make sense if was canon (there also might be more to prove they’re all alive, but i can’t be bothered). so cool au, most likely not canon. gus being a demon that judges the souls of the cgcu? that’s sick broski!

well, i don’t think i can decipher his goals and aspirations (at least not now), but i can try and figure out his abilities!

so good boy gus clearly has some kind of mind manipulation powers (source? just look at all the other gus lighter videos!). i’d assume his powers start off weak but quickly get stronger the longer he stays with the person he’s trying to manipulate until they fully submit to whatever he says. this is because at the beginning of his videos, the victims (clients) seem to retain their rational thinking but in the end they fully believe whatever gus says. an example of this’d be in the tim iddboy video (3) tim thinks gus is jumping to conclusions by calling him insane but eventually believes that there is something horribly wrong with him. i’ll admit this example isn’t great, so we’ll look at a different one: freddy frugal. (or should i say freddy financier?) in his video (4) we get a much better example of this. freddy comes in with no issues. gus convinces freddy that he has amnesia and is actually freddy financier. freddy rejects the idea at first but accepts it. again, this just goes to show how powerful his mind powers are (and that he has them!!).

also, a lesser power he has is teleportation. in his vid with gabriel (1) he’s seen behind a door, even though the last time we saw him he was in his chair. when gabriel rubbed his eyes, gus was gone. he did a teleportation !!!!

something i find interesting is that he can’t retain control of all of his clients. in his video with gabriel (1) he says he has some very sick individuals here. i’ll discuss this in depth later. originally, i assumed that was all the characters that have seen him before, since we haven’t seen most of them after their initial video with gus. however, this is disproven by gabriel appearing in a new video (5) and freddy frugal’s video one month after his visit with gus (6). there might also be others but i can’t be bothered to find them. what im trying to say is that you can escape from gus lighter’s influence. he can lose control. that means he can be defeated.

another thing is that he seems to have limits, or something like that. i don’t know how to describe it, but he can be put off by things. he can feel emotions. in the freddy frugal vid, gus said “thats a lot to unpack” (or something of the sort) when freddy says why he showed up to therapy (4). so he has human emotions. that means he can be vulnerable. that means he can be defeated.

well, time for me to talk about my second crack theory of: gus lighter works at a mental hospital! or he has a ward for his more “insane” patients. this can be proven by his video with gabriel (1), where he LITERALLY says that!!! maybe gus could have a mental ward, and characters that we see later on managed to escape him. you can escape gus lighter. he has weaknesses. that means he can be defeated.

so overall? i don’t know SHIT about his motives but he’s got mind manipulation and teleportation. and he has weaknesses. that means he can be defeated.

oh, and just some delicious food for thought: he has basically the same outfit as hugh mann, but inverted.

1. https://youtube.com/shorts/ZNGCVOywZGw?si=vo_bNC4EKx0wEzup

2. https://youtube.com/shorts/Lb0Th4pgDYw?si=TeE8SArB7Tn6muEX

3. https://youtu.be/JoqhpW4Kp_8?si=5D7h_75cvv1JHe8l

4. https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=4LMHTVOGNOE

5. https://m.youtube.com/shorts/1u-lVcuM2Us?si=D_P0ZLkqRa98F-3_

6. https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=PosGzDXvjA0

[lightandheatao3]

The Bunker - Criminal Minds

Chapter 6: The Rot

Summary: Spencer Reid wakes up in a locked bunker to find half the current BAU and two of its departed members unconscious on the floor. The old team is back together but the reunion is not what any of them would have wished for. An Unsub from their past has decided it's time they all stop keeping secrets, even if it means exposing them by force.

Hotch and Derek have been pulled back into a world they tried to escape. Emily, Rossi, and JJ are doing their best to keep it together. Spencer is falling apart.

AKA a found family is reunited and forced to go through the most nightmarish version of family therapy imaginable.

Set months after the end of Criminal Minds: Evolution. Evolution referenced, but not necessary to understand the story.

Chapter Summary: The team rebel in the only way they are able.

Read chapter 6 on AO3 or under the cut. All comments and reblogs are extremely appreciated <3 I would love to know what you like about the story :)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

JJ had been the first one to point it out. 25 or 26 hours in, while he had been shivering on the floor.

There was a door on the bathroom. "Oddly considerate," JJ had said. "Seems thematically inappropriate."

This Unsub was obsessed with exposure. With forcing them to be vulnerable. To be seen in the most confronting sense.

She wanted them to be stripped bare.

So why would she give them a door?

Why would she give them soap so they could wash themselves and their clothes? Why insist they don’t leave rubbish out?

Why structure all her rules around cleanliness?

Why lock them in a box, then afford them so many little dignities?

She wanted to break them down, piece by piece, and she had gone to extreme measures to make that happen. They were unanimous in their assessment that this Unsub was not a person who dealt in half-measures. So why was she holding back?

The answer was easy.

She wasn't doing it for them.

With that part of the profile settled, Emily's plan had become an obvious response.

They hadn’t risked pushing boundaries or breaking rules while Spencer had been too sick. He loathed it, the thought of all the time they're lost because of him. Now that he was better- still not healthy by any stretch, but not actively in acute withdrawal- it was time to test the waters and see what kind of response they could provoke.

The profile they had agreed on was this: She was meticulous, desperate for control, enacting detailed fantasies through them, yet actively hindering her own stated goals by providing them with comforts not essential to their survival.

She provided these comforts not for their sake, but because she was uncomfortable.

She was squeamish.

She wanted them to clean because she couldn’t handle the mess. She gave them a door because she didn't want to be reminded of their bodily functions.

She afforded them dignity because she was unable to stomach indignity.

She likely had a significant anxiety disorder, possibly with obsessive-compulsive features. They suspected she may have been raised in a highly conservative or religious environment, perhaps with an abusive parent who instilled a deep sense of shame for any behaviors or bodily functions perceived as unclean.

Much to Spencer's immense displeasure, the pathway to provoking a response was clear.

He was happy to have something to do. It felt good to have a goal. It felt even better to be united in that goal as a team. He and Derek had put their bickering to the side, and JJ was being warm with him again. It was good, he repeated to himself again and again. It was good.

But did it have to be so disgusting?

“You doing alright?” asked JJ sympathetically.

“I am fine,” he said through gritted teeth.

“It’s just that you’ve been staring at it for a long time. I don't think I've seen you blink for a while now.”

“Patulin is the most commonly found mycotoxin in fruits. It has the capacity to be carried on dust and airborne spores, which act as a delivery mechanism for the mycotoxin to reach the lungs, where it can cause acute respiratory symptoms, including hemorrhaging of the lung. Even if airborne mycotoxin exposure is statistically unlikely with this relatively low quantity of rotting fruit, mold exposure is still a very real concern, particularly in enclosed environments with limited ventilation,” he explained tensely. “It can cause respiratory distress, dysregulation of your immune system-”

“Spencer,” interrupted Emily. “I know it’s disgusting. Try not to think about it.”

He flicked his eyes away from the rotting pile of fruit scraps that sat in the middle of the room, over to Emily instead. “There are maggots, Emily,” he said, pained.

“Come on, Reid, I know you’ve got a thing about germs, but you have seen way worse than this,” said Derek. "You can handle this, man."

“Judging by the rate of deterioration and the visible emergence of the fruit fly larvae, it has been two to three days since we stopped returning our food scraps.” he said. "I had sincerely hoped that I would never end up locked up somewhere even more disgusting than prison. At least there they had waste disposal."

“She’ll break, Spence,” said JJ in a whisper. “You just need to not break first.”

He scrubbed his hands over his face, scratching a little at the patchy beard that was growing in. “I’m sorry," he said sincerely. "You’re all stuck in here too. It's just hard not to think about it.”

“Well then, how about we all forget about this for a minute,” said Rossi. “Everyone close your eyes.”

They all looked at him skeptically. He rolled his eyes and gestured at them all to just hurry up and do it.

Spencer watched as everyone else, sat scattered across the four walls of room in a vague square shape, reluctantly closed their eyes. The last ones left open were his and Hotch’s. Hotch met his gaze with an amused shrug, then closed his own.

Finally, Spencer did too.

“You’re not going to make us mediate?” asked Emily wearily.

“I wouldn’t even know how to begin with that. Now, please shut up until directed otherwise,” instructed Rossi cheerfully.

He could still smell the rotten fruit scraps, sickly and sweet with an earthy undercurrent of mold. Every inhale came with the mental picture of a thousand microscopic spores pouring into his lungs. He dug his nails into his forearms and focused on Rossi’s voice.

“Okay, now, I’m going to need everyone to take this extremely seriously,” said Rossi solemnly. “It is of the utmost importance, for our sanity and perhaps even our survival, that you answer honestly. Understood?” He was met with silence. “That was me giving you permission to speak. Are we understood?”

“For fuck sake Dave, just spit it out,” said Hotch of all people, earning a snort from Emily across the room.

“You asked for it,” said Rossi, milking the moment for all it was worth. “Fuck, marry, kill. FBI addition”

The uproar was immediate. They all opened their eyes, cries of “What is wrong with you?” and “You’re a child!” being hurled in his direction amongst amused yelps and bubbling laughter. Even Spencer couldn’t hold back a laugh.

Rossi held his hands up defensively. “Woah! You wanted a distraction, you got it! I didn’t realize you were all so prudish,” he teased.

“Alright,” said Emily, nodding her head. “I’m game.”

JJ shot her a mockingly scandalized look.

“If the boss is in, who am I to say no?” said Derek with a cheeky wink at Emily.

“Great,” said Rossi. “Now, everyone close your eyes again.”

With a lot of eyerolls and exasperated head shakes, everyone did as he asked. Spencer smiled to himself at the absurdity of it all.

“Why do our eyes need to be closed for this, exactly?” asked JJ.

“If you really want to stare at the garbage pile while we do this, be my guest,” said Rossi.

“Fair point.”

“Since you’re so eager, Rossi, how about you go first?” suggested Derek. “Fuck, marry, kill… Jenny Carlile in security, Marina Ferra from the comms department, and… Josie, you know, the one who worked the reception desk until about six months before I left.”

They all laughed at the list, but a laughter that came with a lot of audible cringing.

“Coming out swinging, I see,” said Rossi. “Well, those are three very beautiful, intelligent, lovely women, but kill Josie-”

“What!” yelled Derek. “You’re crazy, man!”

“You didn’t have to think about it!” said JJ indignantly. “What did she ever do to you?”

“Hey, who’s talking here!” said Rossi with a laugh. “I have nothing against Josie, she’s just too young for me. I prefer a woman with some life experience,” he said defensively. The answer seemed to placate the naysayers. He continued, “Marry Jenny. She seems so easy going. And fuck Marina, because, well, do I have to explain?”

Morgan huffed a laugh and hummed in a way that suggested Rossi absolutely did not have to explain. “I can’t argue with that.”

“Thank you. Now in the interest of gender equality and equal opportunity objectification, it’s your turn JJ.”

JJ groaned. “Okay, hit me.”

“Gary Renkin, Ricardo Perez, and… Daniel what’s-his-face from the basement.”

“The basement?” JJ chuckled. “Do you mean Daniel from IT?”

“Yeah, whatever they do down there. The guy who clearly doesn’t get enough sun.”

She laughed again. “Right, give a second... I pick… Marry Ric, because he’s a sweetheart. Fuck Gary. No, I won’t explain. And kill Daniel because an IT guy is a little redundant when you’re friends with Penelope.”

“You make a good point,” said Emily.

“You have to be logical about these things,” said JJ. “Speaking of which, Emily, I hope you're ready for some hard choices.”

“I am so ready,” said Emily. “But give me a real challenge.”

He snorted. She sounded genuinely competitive, and while he hadn’t played this game before, he gathered that it wasn’t one you could ‘win.’ His skin had almost stopped crawling from thoughts of the germs that were infesting every surface of the room.

“If you say so,” said JJ. “Luke, Matt, and Tara.”

The room erupted. Derek wolf whistled; Emily let out a loud “Oh come on!” and Rossi applauded the audacity. He thought he might have even heard a small laugh from Hotch. He smiled to himself.

“What?” yelled JJ, stifling a laugh. “You said you wanted a challenge!”

“How am I supposed to kill one of them?” lamented Emily.

A beat.

“You’re killing Luke, right?” said JJ as a statement, not a question.

“Yeah, obviously,” said Emily without pause. “Fuck Matt, marry Tara. Is there even another way to answer that?”

“What?” laughed Rossi. “What did poor Luke do to earn this?”

“Luke is great,” said Emily emphatically. “He’s just…”

JJ jumped in; “It would be like sleeping with your little brother.”

“That’s exactly it,” said Emily, clicking her finger. “I mean really, the right answer is to kill both Luke and Matt and just pick Tara. Have you seen her?”

“No, I think your first answer was right. That’s what I’m going with,” said JJ with a giggle. “What about you, Spence? Same question.”

He was glad to have his eyes closed as he felt his cheeks warming just a little. “Does it have to be them?” he asked in halfhearted protest.

“Oh, absolutely,” said Emily. “If I had to pick, so do you.”

“Fine,” he sighed. “Okay, so, just to be clear on the rules-” Derek groaned but he couldn't tell if it was affectionate or annoyed, so he ignored it “- these are all mutually exclusive categories? I mean, if you married someone, it would be likely that you would have an ongoing intimate relationship, so what’s the distinction between the marry and, uh, fuck options?”

“Have you never played this game before?” asked JJ.

“No?”

Was this common? Is this something he was supposed to be familiar with? Was this another one of those things that everyone with a normal adolescence had done? He suddenly felt self-conscious.

“For the sake of clarity,” said Emily, “let’s assume they are all mutually exclusive. Think of it as who you want to be emotionally intimate with and share a life with for marry, and who just want to… well, fuck is a fairly self-explanatory category.”

He appreciated that she didn’t make fun of him while she explained. He didn’t mind the teasing from the others. Not really. He teased them right back most of the time. But he didn’t like it when people made fun of him without actually explaining why.

“Thank you.” A beat. “Do I really have to choose?”

“Yes!” came the unanimous, exasperated shouts from everyone except Hotch, who was laughing in earnest now.

“Oh my god, fine! Fuck Luke, kill Matt, marry Tara,” he spat out without thinking.

There was a moment of silence.

He opened his eyes, realizing he must have been the last one to do so, as they were all staring at him. Five pairs of tired, dark-rimmed eyes looked at him from across a pile of rot.

“Interesting,” said Derek wryly.

“Care to explain your rationale?” asked Emily with a smirk.

He turned it over in his mind a moment. “I would prefer not to.”

“Because I have a theory that Luke is about 2 beers away from-”

“I would prefer not to,” he repeated more firmly.

She threw her hands up in surrender. They all made a point of not staring too hard.

It wasn't a discussion he was necessarily completely averse to having with them. He'd considered it in the past. Things were changing in the world and even, very slowly and incrementally, in the FBI itself.

It certainly wasn't a conversation he wanted to have in front of the ever-present camera.

Rossi swung his head around to Hotch. “Aaron, your turn to-”

“Absolutely not,” said Hotch in a tone that beggared no argument.

“Oh-kay then… New game-”

He was cut off by a clunking sound.

They all looked around the room, trying to figure out if they had heard the same thing. Spencer wasn't sure if he'd imagined it.

Then, another THUNK.

They looked at each other as if each of them was hoping to find reassurance from the others.

Spencer’s heart pounded so hard in his chest he thought he might pass out.

THUNK.

They looked to the roof.

A steady hiss emanated from above.

Out of the vent in the roof, he saw a wisp of something.

“Smoke,” said Derek, voice tight.

“No,” said Hotch, pushing himself to his feet. “Gas.”

For a moment, time froze.

Then all at once they activated.

They pushed themselves to their feet, with Derek throwing down a hand to help pull Spencer up. They grabbed discarded, filthy and unwashed shirts from the ground and tied them over their noses and mouths.

Hotch and Derek sprinted to the door, pulling at it as hard as they could, desperately trying to leverage it open.

Spencer stared, transfixed at the swirling mist that was filling the room from the roof downward.

“Get on the floor,” he said urgently. Or at least he thought he said, but nobody responded. He tried again, louder this time. “Get on the floor!”

They all froze, whipping their heads around to look at him.

He continued talking as he ran to the bathroom. “There’s no way out. Wet your mask, then get on the floor face down and slow your breathing as much as possible. We don’t have much time.”

He ripped off the shirt tied over his face and soaked it under the water running from the bathroom tap. He passed it behind him to JJ, who was standing the closest to him.

“What?” she breathed out, looking very much as if she was going into the early stages of shock, eyes glassy and confused.

“Give me your mask and put this one on.” He looked back at the rest of them. “Now! We have a minute at most! All you can do is try to minimize the amount you breath in and ensure you don’t hurt yourself by falling when you lose consciousness.”

Hotch stepped forward, guiding JJ to follow his instructions.

“Do what he says,” said Emily urgently, approaching him to help distribute the wet cloth.

They moved as quickly as humanly possible. As quickly as he had ever seen any of them move.

Even as he was wetting the last piece of what he thought was Rossi’s discarded button up shirt and tying it around his own face, the edges of his vision were fading.

He managed to half crawl to the ground until he was lying face down on the disgusting, dirty floor.

The sound of weak coughs and splutters rang in his ears as his vision blurred and blackened.

All he could see, somewhere across the room through the tunnel of his vision, was someone's chest. He couldn't tell whose, but it rose up and down, still breathing.

He held onto that image as long as he could. Whoever it was, they were still breathing.

Then…

Nothing.