#tries to fight my eating disorder off with a stick but I also need to lose weight hhhhnnnnn

[griffin-girl-r]

Run

Created: 10.08.2022

Finished: 11.08.2022

Edited: 13.09.2023

Age: 17

Word count: 4,198

Based on: The movie 'Run'

Note: The plot had been altered to fit a happy ending

Warnings: Blood, Different health issues, Mental disorder, Medicine, Poison, Lies, Fainting

Request: Yes (Tumblr user)

—

"Is she going to be okay?" Natasha looked with tear-filled eyes at the baby inside the incubator

Bruce took a step forward and put his hand on her shoulder "She's got some serious problems, Nat, and she's very small. Giving birth at only 5 months of pregnancy can be very risky for you as well as for the baby."

"Is she going to be okay?!" Natasha repeated as she tried to fight back a sob, her eyes never leaving the baby, her baby

"With a lot of care and attention, she'll survive." Bruce explained "And despite the health problems she has, your baby can easily live an almost normal life."

Natasha sniffed as she pressed her hand harder on the incubator in hopes that this would help her be closer to you "I'll make sure she'll survive."

—

*17 years later*

The Avengers were all sitting in another boring meeting when suddenly Tony started talking about how Peter would go off to college very soon and about how fast the time passed.

"I can't believe my boy has grown so much." Tony smiled but everyone could swear that he was tearing up behind his sunglasses "Who will now be there for him to remind him to eat or rest enough? Who will do the grocery shopping for him now and buy him everything he actually needs not just junk food?"

"It's a hard time in a parent's life to let their child finally go, Stark." Clint started to play with the pen in his hand "Trust me, I got 3 and it never gets easier. Especially for us that we're walking targets and we're afraid they'll come for our kids as a form of revenge towards us. But we'll also be proud to see how well they can actually do on their own."

Tony pretended to play it cool as he turned his head towards Natasha and chuckled "You've been really quiet, Romanoff. Aren't you scared that something could happen to your daughter now that she'll go to college?"

"No." Natasha replied nonchalantly

"No?" Steve questioned "Nat, we know how much you love your daughter and protect her. We know it can't be that easy for you to let her go. Especially since she's..." Steve couldn't bring himself to say it "You know... She's..."

"Intelligent?!" Natasha interrupted him "Brave? Much more capable of taking care of herself than any adult in this room? I know my daughter. I gave birth to her. I raised her. Y/N is better than all of us. So if anyone needs to be worried about their child, that's Tony." She pointed to the man in question "Not me."

Steve wanted to say "sick" but hearing Natasha's protests he gave up on that thought.

Clint knew exactly this was just Natasha using her well-known poker face in a successful attempt to hide her feelings but he said nothing.

—

You sighed and put your blanket over your head as the morning alarm rang once again to wake you up.

Sticking one hand from under the blanket you stopped it and made your way out of the bed.

It was another boring day of your boring life.

Thanks to the fact that you were born such a small baby and thanks to your mom's health issues when it came to her having babies, now you're stuck in an endless loop.

You get out of bed and hardly make your way towards the bathroom.

For a moment you stare at yourself in the mirror then wash your face and proceed to brush your teeth.

After this part of the routine is completed you make your way just as hard as before towards the kitchen.

"Good morning, sweetie." Natasha kissed your head once you sat in your chair at the table

"Morning, .ama." You yawned and Natasha giggled

"I made breakfast." She smiled as she put the plate with food in front of you

You smiled back at her "Thanks, Mama." And proceeded to eat

"Don't forget these, baby." Your mother put in front of you a glass of water next to your daily pills "So when was the last time we saw a movie together?"

—

You were born with a set of serious health problems that included: arrhythmia, hemochromatosis, asthma, diabetes, and an easy form of paralysis that is responsible for you moving your legs way too harder than a normal person does.

Arrhythmia: An abnormality of electrical impulses in the heart, causing irregular heartbeats.

The orange pill in front of you.

It made you not feel as funny in your chest as you do when your heart starts beating out of its normal rhythm.

Hemochromatosis: An excess accumulation of iron in the bloodstream, causing rashes and nausea.

The white pill in front of you.

You hated that every morning you woke up feeling sick and if it wasn't for this pill, you would constantly throw up.

Asthma: An inflammation of the airways in the lungs, causing difficulty in breathing.

You knew what was coming right after breakfast. You had to use your inhaler.

Your mom had these things stashed all around the house, the car and she's always carrying one with her.

Diabetes: An impairment of the pancreas to produce insulin, causing unstable glucose levels.

You knew the drill.

If it was too high you had to make an injection. If it was too low your mom gave you some chocolate.

You always prayed you had it too low.

Paralysis: An inhibition of muscle function, causing an inability to move, feel, walk, or run.

Run...

Something you will never be able to do.

When you were born, Bruce told your mama that you would never be able to use your legs but Natasha was stubborn. She couldn't accept the fact that her daughter would never walk so she researched day and night to find a solution for your problem.

Her solution was followed by countless hours of physical recovery but she achieved her goal.

Slowly but surely, her care and the physical therapy you were doing every day at home offered you over time the ability to walk. Still a little harder than normal people do but you are walking and Natasha was happy with just that.

But running was one thing you'll never be able to do and you made your peace with that.

—

"Do you know when the mail will come today?" You hopefully asked your mom

"I have no idea baby girl but don't worry. If there is a letter from any university, you'll be the first to open it." Natasha smiled and put a book on the table for your daily lessons

It was no surprise that you were homeschooled.

Natasha was very overprotective of you. As a matter of fact, you rarely even left the house at all and when you did, you were always in Natasha's company.

You didn't even have friends.

To keep yourself busy, you developed a passion for engineering and building different machines and computers on your own. Natasha provides you with anything you could need to work on your passion.

Sure, Clint's kids visit you as often as they can, and twice a week Peter comes to talk with you and tell you how the outside life is.

You both were now 17 but very soon you and Peter will turn 18 and both of you were waiting for your letters from the universities you applied for.

Peter was only 2 months older than you and you have been really close from the first moment you met each other.

He was Tony's adopted son but try and tell that to Tony.

And you were Natasha's miracle daughter, born from an experiment.

—

"Please don't lie to me, Peter." You skeptically looked at your friend

"I'm not lying Y/N." He defended himself "Look. Here it is." Peter pulled out of his pocket his acceptance letter from the university

You snatched it from poor Peter's hands and quickly looked over it.

"Off..." You deeply sighted "Mine still hasn't arrived. What is it taking so long?"

Natasha could hear you from the basement where she was throwing away the third letter you received from another university that was honored to have you as their student.

She wasn't planning on letting you go ever.

Natasha was afraid that you would die alone in the cruel outside world. She was scared of losing you.

Her little baby girl can't go off to college alone. There are too many dangers and you're still so fragile and so in need of her help.

—

It wasn't up till one day when you decided to look through the grocery bag that your mom left on the counter in hopes of getting to steal more candies to eat behind your mother's back, that you found something unexpected.

It was a medicine bottle with Natasha's name on it.

This was new. You never saw these meds before. Let alone know that your mama needed them.

But before getting the chance to have a good look at them, you heard Natasha coming towards the kitchen. So as fast as you could, you returned to your seat and pretended to work on your homework.

—

You said nothing about the pills you found but you were determined to find out what were they and what they were used for.

Natasha started to give you these pills telling you they were actually for you, that the doctor gave you some new medicine to take, and that it was for nothing more than to prevent you from passing out whenever your heart started acting up and beating like crazy.

At first, you believed her.

She was your mom after all. Right?

All she ever did was to take care of you.

—

"Mama, why was your name on the bottle?" You finally had the courage one night to ask your mom about the pills

"What are you talking about baby?" Natasha turned around and leaned on the door frame after she tucked you in

"I've seen your name on the bottle. Which means that you should be the one taking the meds, not me." You confidently looked at your mom

Natasha lightly laughed "Oh no honey. My name was on the receipt. You know, they lately put the receipt on the bottle. That's why there is my name on the bottle and not yours."

"Oh." You were confused "I guess you're right. I'm sorry for accusing you, Mama."

"That's okay my love." Natasha softly smiled "I forgive you. Now off to bed with you." She put her hand on the light switch and turned it off

Natasha left, closing the door behind her, and you pulled your blanket more over your shoulders.

—

But Natasha's answer wasn't enough for you.

After almost half of the night where you just tossed and turned in bed, you decided to get up and find out more about those pills.

You quietly made your way towards the computer that was downstairs.

You looked on all sides before opening up and searching for the name of the medicine.

Your heart was beating out of your chest as you anxiously waited for the results of your search to show up on the screen.

But instead of the results, the screen showed up the text that let you know the computer had no Internet connection.

Only if your mom allowed you to have a phone.

You defeatedly made your way back up to your room, unaware of the fact that this entire time Natasha was watching you from the dark and she was the one who cut the Internet connection.

—

"You can't treat your clients like this. Leaving us in the dark for the entire night." You saw Natasha argue on her phone while you sat down on your chair at the dining table "I hope this never happens again." Your mom ended the call

"Was it about the Internet connection?" You sighed as Natasha sat in front of you

"Yes." She nodded "But how do you know it was about the Internet, baby?"

"I tried to use the computer last night." You shily said "I tried to figure out why the processor of my new invention isn't working."

You lied. You were not just going to reveal to Natasha that you suspect something strange is happening.

But Natasha knew you were lying and she played your card.

"So did you find out why wasn't it working?" She asked as watched you from the corner of her eye

You shook your head "No. How could I?! The Internet wasn't working." You decided to push your luck "If only I had a phone."

"Nice try, baby." Natasha laughed "But don't worry. I'm sure you'll figure it out on your own. You're my smart girl."

—

You were her smart girl but you were also her stubborn girl and you weren't going to give up till you hadn't learned all the truth.

So you took advantage of the fact that your mom left the house to water the plants in your garden outside and went to her room, you called Peter.

"Hello?" Peter answered the call

"Peter, I need your help." You were watching your mom through the window to make sure she didn't come inside

"Y/N? What happened? Is there something wrong?" He asked concerned

"I need you to look something up for me on the Internet and tell me what it's used for." You quickly answered and proceeded to tell him the name of the medicine

"So here it says that is used for severe cardiac problems..." Peter read a whole list of things that it had treated with that medicine "Wow! Is that what you're suffering from? That's nasty!"

"There's no time for that, Peter... I need you to tell me what color they are." You rushed Peter into answering

"The color... the color..." Peter repeated while he searched for photos of the medicine "Ah! Here it is. They are red."

Your brain stopped working for a moment and the phone fell from your hand.

Red...

The pills you were taking were half green, half grey.

No red.

"Y/N? Y/N? Are you still there?" Peter shouted through the phone trying to catch your attention once again "Is that all you wanted to know?"

"Yes, Peter. Thank you." And with that, you ended the call and rushed out of your mom's room

Your mom had been tricking you.

But why?!

What were these meds actually for?

—

"I see you figured it out." Natasha startled you as she opened your door

Your mind instantly raced to what happened today.

"What do you mean?" You slightly panicked

"You figured it out. I knew you could do it." She pointed with her head towards your invention that was now working

"Yes. Yes, I did." You smiled as you sighed in relief

Natasha came closer and handed you the meds with a glass of water.

"Good night, baby girl." She kissed your head

"Good night, Mama." You flashed a smile her way then looked back at the book that was in your lap and pretended to keep reading

Natasha looked one more time at you before closing the door behind her.

—

"When was the last time we watched a movie?" You smiled at your mom the next morning during your breakfast

Natasha's face instantly lit up as a wide smile appeared on her face "What do you want to watch?"

—

You successfully made Natasha agree to take you out to the city to watch a movie together at the cinema.

Your plan was set in motion.

You were going to find out what those pills were for one way or another.

—

"I'm going to get more water." You whispered to your mother in the middle of the movie as you shook the empty bottle in front of her "Tell me what I miss."

"I won't." Natasha chuckled as she watched you stand up and leave

Going out of the cinema you took off towards the pharmacy that was right across the street and from where your mom always bought your meds.

—

You sighted as you saw the enormous line of people that were waiting there.

So you decided to play the disabled person card.

"Excuse me. I'm disabled. Please let me through." You shouted as you exaggerated your walk to show people that they should let you in front

"Hey, Y/N." The lady from the desk greeted you "Where's your mama? Is Natasha here too?"

"Yes!" You rushed to answer as you put one on the desk one pill "But I need to find out what is this pill used for."

"Oh, honey. I'm so sorry but this is confidential information and I'm afraid I can not give it to you without your mama being here." The lady apologetically smiled at you

"Please..." Then an idea popped up in your mind "We're playing a game! It's a hunting treasure game and to find the treasure, I need to find out what this pill is used for because this is a clue that will get me closer to being the one who wins."

The lady thought for a second about your words then sight "Okay, Y/N. If you say so." And she started to search on her computer what that pill was

You were looking around scared. Praying that Natasha wouldn't come look for you here.

"Ah, here it is." The lady said "Here it says that it's a medication used to treat the persons that are suffering from bipolar disorder. It should calm them and their mood swings. Made them more relaxed and..."

The lady kept on explaining but you weren't listening to her anymore.

Natasha gave you medicine that wasn't yours. Why? Why would she do that? Why do you need to calm down?

You felt how your heart started to beat faster and faster and faster. Your hands started to shake and you could feel the blood rising and see the world spinning till it became blurry.

That damn arrhythmia. It was the worst time for it to start acting up.

"Y/N!" Natasha desperately shouted as she ran to your side "Baby, talk to me! Say something!" She cupped your face

She reached you just in time before your legs gave up on you and you passed out in her arms.

"What did you tell her?!" Natasha shouted angrily at the lady behind the desk "It's okay, baby. I catched you." Natasha whispered as she held you tight in her arms slightly stroking your hair "I got you, baby. Mama got you."

—

Natasha gently laid you down on your bed once she took you back home and left the room after that in a hurry.

A few hours later you woke and tried to get out of your room only to find out that Natasha locked you in there.

"Mama!" You shouted "Mama, please! I just want to talk to you! I promise I won't do anything! I just need answers!"

When you received no response you decided to try and unlock the door only to realize that Natasha not only locked the door but she actually blocked it from the other side so it would be impossible for you to open it.

You had to escape now.

So you decided to get out through your window after you secured some wires around your waist and then crawled on the roof till your mother's window and broke it.

Crawling back inside you rushed to your room, unclocked it, and barely reached your inhaler just in time.

After you caught your breath you made your way to the stairs.

What a great time for your legs to give up on you because just when you were at the top of the stairs, your legs gave up and you fell all the way to the bottom of the stairs.

You looked at your hands and saw cuts and scratches and after you checked the right side of your head, you understood that there was a bleeding cut.

But you didn't have time to cry over something so little as falling down the stairs.

You made your way on the lonely road that led to your house and stopped the first car that was coming that way, which happened to be the mailman's car.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?" He ran to your side

"I need your help. Please. My mama tried to hurt me. She gave me medicine that was for her, not for me. Help me please."

"Y/N, are you sure, kid?" The man asked

But before you got the chance to answer him, your mom's car pulled behind the mailman's.

"Baby?" Natasha started running to you worried when she saw the state you were in "Baby, are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"Miss Romanoff, please stop." The mailman stepped in front of Natasha, blocking her way to you

"What are you talking about?! I need to go to my daughter! I need to make sure she's okay!" Natasha shouted

"Natasha..." The man whispered "She said you were hurting her."

"What?!" Your mom asked confused "Can you hear what you're saying right now?! Me? Hurt my daughter? You know I could never do that. She's just feeling off because there were some new meds that she was given."

"Look, I'll take her to the hospital and we'll talk more there." The man said

Natasha nodded and walked back to her car.

"So the hospital or the police?" The man whispered to you as he helped you get up in his van

"The police." You smiled relifed "Thank you so much."

But before you got the chance to even leave that place, Natasha knocked unconscious the poor man who tried to help you.

—

You woke up in a strange room.

But as you fully came back to your senses you realized you were in the one room, you weren't allowed in.

The basement.

As you looked around at the room where Natasha was spending her free time you noticed the letters from the universities in the trash.

You were accepted.

To every college you applied for.

Natasha kept this as a secret from you.

You got so angry that you started throwing all around the room the trash and the letters till you noticed a strange box.

On the box there was a name very similar to your mother's name and yet not hers at the same time.

'Natalia Romanova' was the name on the box.

Your mom's name is 'Natasha Romanoff' not 'Natalia Romanova'... Right?

Even though Natasha chained you by one leg you managed to find a way of reaching the box and started looking through it.

There were a few pictures of your mom when she was younger, one when she was pregnant with you, and one of yourself as a baby. Then there was your birth certificate, a paper where were listed all of your health problems, and one paper that clearly said that your mom had been diagnosed with bipolar disorder.

Your mom was sick?!

"We can start again, baby." Natasha softly explained as she reached the bottom of the stairs "No meds. No nothing. Just us two like we were before."

"You tricked me!" You shouted in her face "Was I ever even sick? You poisoned me!"

Natasha shook her head "I protected you! The outside world it's very dangerous, baby girl, and you are too fragile to fight alone. You need me."

You thought for a second "No... You need me."

You managed to lock yourself inside the storage closet before Natasha had time to reach you.

"Baby, please..." Natasha knocked on the door "Please open the door. We can talk about this."

But you knew what you had to do. You took the first bottle of chemicals that was inside there and drank it.

When she heard no answer Natasha took down the door and let out a desperate scream as she saw you lying down with blood pooling out of your mouth.

—

Bruce and his team managed to save you and Natasha never felt more scared and desperate in her entire life.

But before she got the chance to see you Bruce talked with you a little, first.

He managed to tell you about the problem your mom has and he told you that Natasha accepted getting help for you because she wants to start again and give you more freedom.

Natasha understood where her mistake was and she accepted specialized help.

And you decided to forgive her and give her a chance.

You knew your mom wouldn't hurt you on purpose. She couldn't control herself when she did and you were planning to help her.

—

*7 years later*

Natasha did change and everything went back to normal again.

She seeked professional help, you went to college and graduated last year.

You both left it all behind and were now looking ahead to a brighter future.

One where you helped each other and took care of one another while overcoming everyday challenges.

You both understood that you needed each other to keep living a normal life.

—

[sarcasmandships]

yellow | paul lahote

paul lahote never wanted to imprint on anyone, but especially not on the one girl he couldn’t seem to protect, not even from herself.

word count: 3.8k

angst, hurt + minimal comfort

trigger warnings: eating disorder, death, hospital/medical scene, vomit

paul imprinted on y/n nearly a year ago, it wasn’t something he ever wanted. in fact, he tried so hard to fight the imprint at first that he made himself ill.

paul was only just beginning to learn that he couldn’t fight off every problem he encountered. imprinting on y/n had been a harsh awakening for him, and he knew now that he couldn’t punch and kick his way through life.

that didn’t stop him trying though, he stared at the hole he’d just created in the dry wall of his bedroom. he was going to have to buy another poster.

“paul, are you still there?” y/n’s voice was muffled through the phone which lay face down on his bed, “i heard a bang.”

and paul could hear her concern so he snatched the phone and held it up to his ear, “yeah i’m still here don’t worry,” he sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose.

“okay...” she said uncertainly, “are you alright?”

he was clenching his fists, his jaw, and every other muscle in his body, “yeah, yeah i’m fine,” he said, trying to maintain a light and airy tone as much as possible but the words just came out flat, “i should be asking if you’re okay.”

y/n took several minutes to answer, “you don’t need to worry about me paul.”

if only she knew that his entire life now revolved around worrying about her. about wanting to protect her, from the leeches, from every creep and asshole in this town, from every bout of stress or sadness.

“i never do anything else,” he tried to say jokingly, but his voice broke mid-way through the sentence and he punched his mattress.

“look paul...” he could hear her frowning through the phone as she sighed, “i gotta go to my appointment now but I’ll see you later for the bonfire, yeah?”

tears were burning in paul’s eyes as he croaked out a response, “yeah, do you need me to pick you up?”

“it’s all good, i’m going to emily’s first to give her a hand with the food so i’ll go down with her.”

“yeah, sounds great,” he said flatly, “i’ll see you there then.”

“bye paul,” she whispered and hung up the phone.

he launched the phone at the wall, and it shattered into chunks of useless plastic. he held his head in his hands and before he knew it, his whole body was racked with dry sobs.

paul lahote never wanted to imprint on anyone, but especially not on the one girl he couldn’t seem to protect, not even from herself.

he grabbed a pair of beat-up trainers from under his bed and pulled them on. he thundered downstairs and out the front door, ignoring the protests of his drunken father.

paul ran.

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul,’ y/n would tease him.

maybe not, but he couldn’t do anything else because she wouldn’t fucking let him. y/n had always been stubborn but in the last few months she’d become increasingly closed off and defensive. if paul made the slightest attempt to ‘stick his nose where it didn’t belong’ then she’d shut him out for weeks on end.

being apart from her was agonising.

he used to think sam and jared were exaggerating when they talked about the pain of not seeing their imprints. but now he knew it was all too real and he couldn’t stand it, so paul had learned to bite his tongue so she wouldn’t give him the silent treatment.

that was something that did not come easy to him, but it was easier than not seeing her, not talking to her, not being close to her.

paul knew on some level it was selfish to let y/n play out her fantasises and pretend that everything was fine, he knew it was wrong for indulging her. but whenever he tried to confront her, to help her, then she would shut him out again and he couldn’t bare that.

it was raining heavily now, the hail stones battered off his exposed skin as he dove out of sight behind the tree line.

staying calm was not something paul was good at, he had to spend so much of his energy focusing on blocking out his anger and sadness and pain and anguish just to make sure he didn’t shift at an inappropriate moment.

but right now, he could smash through that blockade and let every emotion flood through his body as his flesh ripped and his bones snapped, and he shed his human form to leave a large, grey wolf in his place.

paul relished in the release, it felt good to finally let go of every negative emotion he was holding onto and embrace the wolf inside of him. he ran through the trees, taking in the smell of the wet earth and the salty sea air.

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul’

y/n told him that once after a particularly explosive fight he’d had with his father. they sat on the beach, and she stroked his hair as he laid with his head on her lap. he told her he was going to leave home, she pointed out he had no money, he told her that he’d live in the streets if he had to.

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul’ she had said, her fingers entangled in his hair.

but y/n didn’t seem to adopt that mentality when it came to her own problems, and paul’s desire to protect her made her problems, his problems. and now he had an overwhelming number of problems that everyone kept telling him he couldn’t run away from, but that wasn’t going to stop him from trying.

he kicked up soil and dead leaves behind him as he ran through the woods, the hailstones has subsided to a light drizzle which still managed to soak his fur. he paused to shake the water off him when he hear someone else’s voice in his head, someone else had shifted.

“hey paul.”

“hey jake.”

paul tried to shut off his inner monologue so that jacob couldn’t hear what he was thinking, he thought he was doing an alright job until-

“rough day, huh?”

paul growled.

“yeah i guess, y/n’s seeing her therapist right now....”

“is she getting better?”

paul could sense the concern in jacob’s thoughts but this wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have right now.

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul’

well, what the fuck else was he supposed to do? everyone kept telling him that he couldn’t run away but no one was offering any alternative solutions.

it was always ‘calm down, paul.’

‘you can’t fight your way out of everything, paul.’

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul’

well why the fuck not?

no one seemed to understand that he wasn’t running for his own sake but for everyone else’s. and most importantly, for y/n’s. it was excruciatingly difficult to keep those thoughts to himself and out of jacob’s mind, so he began running through the trees again to provide some kind of distraction.

“yeah, she’s going over to emily’s first to help out so i’m meeting her there.”

“do you think you might finally tell her tonight? it’s been nearly a year and she still has no idea....”

“she can’t handle it; she’s got enough going o,n i can’t burden her with all of this too.”

that was only part of it. paul was worried about how y/n would take the news that he, and all his friends were shapeshifting wolves that existed to protect the town from vampires. and even more concerning, how would she take the news that he had imprinted on her? y/n was too fragile right now, he had to protect her even if that meant keeping the truth from her.

but beyond that, he was worried that she wouldn’t accept him. paul had a crippling fear of rejection at the best of times, but the prospect of his own imprint rejecting him was unimaginable.

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul.’

maybe not forever, but for right now he was going to sprint as fast as he could.

***

the blazing bonfire crackled just meters in front of them and yet y/n was still shivering; paul wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close into his chest. she nuzzled into him and paul was filled with a burst of euphoria at their closeness. her eyes were barely open as she leaned into him, he tightened his grip on her frozen frame.

“are you okay?” he mumbled into her hair, it smelled like lavender.

she nodded slowly, “yeah, i’m just tired, today was pretty rough.”

paul frowned. he wished that they weren’t surrounded by so many people, they were sat a little away from the rest of the group, but they didn’t have the privacy he would’ve liked.

“do you want to talk about it?”

y/n sniffled, when paul looked down at her he saw tears slowly running down her cheeks and his heart shattered.

he pulled her in closer and wiped away the tears, “hey, hey what’s wrong?”

y/n just shook her head, “i don’t want to talk about it.”

‘you can’t run away from your problems, y/n’ he wanted to say.

“are you sure?” he asked hesitantly, desperately wanting to help but also not wanting her to clam up again.

she looked away from him; the glare from the roaring bonfire reflected in her glassy eyes. paul enveloped one of her cold, bony hand in his and squeezed it gently but her frown persisted. there was a hollowness in his chest as he stared at her miserable expression; paul knew he couldn’t punch away anyone’s problems but as it turns out, holding hands is just as ineffective.

“dr charles wants me to go to inpatient treatment,” she said bluntly, “he says my physical health is deteriorating too much.”

something twisted in his gut.

“but i thought you were…getting better?” he said cautiously.

paul knew that was a lie.

y/n knew that was a lie, but she was so good at pretending otherwise she had everyone convinced that she was getting better. everyone but him, and he didn’t want her to know that she wasn’t fooling him with the ‘i’m eating again, i’m doing great’ routine she had become so well-versed in.

“well, i’m not better,” she snapped, pushing paul off her as she leapt to her feet.

superhuman hearing or otherwise, everyone else around the bonfire heard y/n’s exclamation, and their heads snapped over to stare between her and paul. emily began to stand up but paul waved her off and she sat back down next to sam. he approached y/n slowly, tears continued to stream down her face but when he moved to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder, she pushed him away.

he held up his hands, “okay, okay – i won’t touch you, why don’t we go somewhere quiet to talk-”

“no,” she snapped, “i don’t want to talk paul, all i ever do is fucking talk about my feelings and as long as i say the right things then everyone thinks i’m better, but i’m not fucking better, okay?”

“i know,” he roared back, “i know you’re not better, in fact you’re getting worse. i watch you get sicker every single day, i watch you withering away, i watch you dying and there is nothing that i can do because you won’t let me.”

y/n bit her lip and looked away from him.

tears were burning in paul’s eyes, “i can’t make you better, i can’t make you eat, i can’t look after you and it’s killing me.”

“i never asked you to look after me,” she screamed back, tears flowing freely down her face now, “i don’t know why you think it’s your job to keep me alive but it isn’t-”

“yes, it is!”

paul was shaking now, he was trying to hold onto his humanity with every fibre of his being, but the pain and anger was overwhelming. he was reaching his breaking point. he tried to focus on y/n; she was his anchor and usually the thought of her, focusing on the sound of her heartbeat was enough to calm him down. but usually, she wasn’t the focus is his anger, and now when he looked at her all he saw was how frail and weak she looked.

she was dying and she wouldn’t let him help her.

everyone was staring now; paul didn’t want to be on this beach anymore, he couldn’t deal with this right now. it was all too much; his head was spinning and his limbs were trembling.

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul.’

sam leapt to his feet, ready to jump in and tackle paul to the ground as he lurched towards y/n. but instead of shifting and attacking her, he grabbed her hand and led her away from the bonfire and the rest of the pack.

“paul what are you doing?” y/n asked through chattering teeth.

she didn’t try to fight him off but paul knew this was more likely a sign of her lack of energy, and not her willingness to go with him. they were at the edge of the beach now, where the sand bordered with the rough concrete path that led back towards the heart of la push. paul stopped in his tracks and turned to face y/n as he heard her breathing become increasingly shallow.

he studied her intently, emaciated body, pale lips, hollow cheeks. he could hear her heart beating slowly and irregularly inside her chest, he could see her struggling to catch a breath. despite her weakened body she stared back at him, with a clenched jaw and arms crossed across her chest.

“you can’t run away from your problems, y/n,” he finally said.

she snorted, “i’m not you, paul.”

“no, but you’re my impr-” he stopped himself before he revealed too much and ran a hand through his hair, “you’re my best friend y/n i-”

“no, jared is your best friend,” she said pointedly.

“for god’s sake can you stop being difficult for two damn seconds?” he snapped.

she let out a shrill laugh, “right sorry, i forget i’m just an inconvenience to everyone around here, i should just go.”

paul grabbed her hand before she could turn away from him. he towered over her, but when their eyes met it was like nothing else mattered. in every second of his existence, paul was acutely aware that gravity and the laws of nature didn’t bind him to the earth; she did. and when she looked into his eyes like that it only reminded him that she was his everything, before paul knew it, his anger was melting away and there was nothing but pure euphoria flowing through his body.

paul lahote never wanted to imprint on anyone, especially not on the one girl he couldn’t seem to protect, not even from herself. but in that moment, nothing else mattered except for the fact that y/n was standing chest to chest with him, and she was staring into his eyes. nothing else mattered; not her anger towards him, her disease, his feelings of helplessness, his fear of rejection.

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul.’

“do you believe in soulmates, y/n?” he asked breathily.

“what?” she asked; her breath billowed out of her chapped lips and hung visibly in the cool september air, thick, like cigarette smoke.

he took a deep breath; it was now or never.

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul.’

“y/n, there’s something i have to tell you-”

she was the first to break eye contact with him, her pupils dilated suddenly, and her eyes fluttered shut. she managed to grip onto his bicep lightly as she collapsed, but her hand turned limp and rolled gently onto the sand as she lay unconscious in his arms.

***

“clear!” carlisle hollered.

paul reluctantly dropped y/n’s hand as carlisle pressed the paddles to her chest and sent two hundred volts of electricity searing through her lifeless body.

he frowned at the consistent flatline on the monitor, “push ten of epi and charge again,” he ordered the nurse, resuming chest compressions as he waited for the next round of medication to be administered.

paul grabbed her hand again while he had the chance, she was already turning cold. the blood had drained from her face, and paul couldn’t focus on her heartbeat to calm him because she no longer had one.

“clear!”

they repeated the routine they had been performing for the last several minutes; paul let go of her hand, carlisle shocked her, the flatline remained.

the nurse shook her head, “asystole,” she said flatly.

“what does that mean?” paul asked frantically, he looked between carlisle and y/n, “why aren’t you helping her?”

carlisle retrieved a neuro torch from the pocket of his lab coat, peeling back y/n’s eyelids he shone the light over each of her eyes, “pupil’s are fixed and dilated,” he said to the nurse.

“why are you stopping? fix her!” paul wailed.

“i’m sorry paul, there’s nothing else we can do for her,” he said softly, “time of death, 19.08.”

the nurse nodded and made a note on y/n’s chart before exiting the trauma room, leaving just paul, sam, and carlisle in the room with y/n’s lifeless body.

paul didn’t cry, or scream, or phase into a giant wolf. he stood by y/n’s bedside, clutching her hand in his and staring straight ahead at the monitor she was attached to. it continued to let out a continuous, monotone beep. sam, who was just waiting for paul to explode, placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder; paul didn’t have the energy to push him away.

“bring her back,” he croaked.

carlisle looked between paul and sam, “i am very sorry for your loss, paul, but there is nothing else i can do, she’s gone-”

“well bring her back!” he roared, falling to his knees as he continued to clutch y/n’s hand, “you fix her, you bring her back, you change her i don’t care-”

“you know i can’t do that-”

“yes, you can. you’ve done it before, change her i don’t care if she’s a vampire just bring her back,” he sobbed.

“paul, we can’t violate the treaty,” sam barked.

“i don’t give a fuck about the treaty,” he turned his head to snarl at sam, “bring her back right now doc or i swear to god i will-”

“i am very sorry paul, but even if i wanted to change her i couldn’t, it’s too late. there are some things even venom can’t fix, even if i tried the venom wouldn’t be able to circulate her body without a heartbeat.”

paul rose from his knees and dropped y/n’s hand. he was robotic as he began chest compressions, despite protests from carlisle. sam tried to pull paul’s arms away from y/n, but he shoved him off roughly and continued to rhythmically administer cpr.

“paul, you need to stop,” carlisle said, “she’s gone – that isn’t going to help her.”

he ignored him.

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul’.

he wasn’t running anymore.

for once in his life paul was facing his problem head on.

he wasn’t running anymore.

he was doing what everyone always wanted, and yet sam and carlisle were trying to stop him.

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul.’

sam and carlisle winced as there was an audible crack.

“you’re breaking her ribs, paul,” carlisle said, attempting to remove paul’s hands from y/n’s body but he flinched away from the vampire’s icy touch.

carlisle looked at sam pleadingly; sam nodded briefly at him before reaching forward and attempting to drag paul away from y/n’s body. he resisted, struggling against sam’s grip as he maintained the rhythmic compressions. his vision blurred in front of him, refusing to take on the scene before him.

he never got a chance to tell her about the imprint.

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul.’

she never regained consciousness after she collapsed.

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul.’

he never got to say goodbye.

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul.’

he never got to tell her he loved her.

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul.’

sam was dragging him backwards, away from y/n; his rigid grip kept paul’s arms pinned to his sides and stopped him from reaching out to cling to y/n.

paul couldn’t breathe.

everything was spinning.

the harsh, fluorescent hospital lights burned his watery eyes; he wanted nothing more than to sink down into darkness till he could awake from this nightmare.

y/n couldn’t be dead.

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul.’

“someone will need to contact her family, they will need to make arrangements,” carlisle commented quietly, “ i will call them myself if you give me the number.”

“this is my fault,” paul choked out.

“what?”

“it’s my fault,” his voice caught in his throat, “i let her slowly kill herself because i didn’t want her shut me out.”

“y/n was sick for a long time paul-” carlisle began.

“and i could’ve fixed her, but i was too selfish to let her go and now she’s gone forever.”

his knuckles turned white as he gripped the metal pole that ran along the side of y/n’s bed, he couldn’t bring himself to look at her body.

sam placed a hand on his shoulder, “there’s nothing you could’ve done paul, you already did everything you could for her - you can’t love someone back together.”

“what if it was emily?” paul snarled, “would you be so calm and condescending if it was your imprint lying dead in front of you?”

paul’s heart pounded in his chest, he was still unable to look at her. he wanted to remember her alive and breathing, not like this.

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul.’

“if you’ll excuse me, i should get started on some paperwork,” carlisle said quietly.

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul.’

paul lahote never wanted to imprint on anyone, but especially not on the one girl he couldn’t seem to protect, not even from herself.

“c’mon paul, you should get out of here.”

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul.’

his eyes flickered up, and the sight of y/n’s corpse sent acidic vomit bubbling up his throat and into his mouth. he turned sharply on his heel and choked out his stomach contents into a bin in the corner.

after he composed himself paul did what he did best.

he ran.

[otptings]

Insomnia

-Idol ~ Kun

-Genre ~ Sick Fic, Smut, Fluff

-Warnings ~ insomnia, lack of appetite & weight loss, pillow princess by force, oral (f receiving), passionate fucking, dry humping? (she's half naked but he's fully dressed), daddy kink, rough sex, choking, degradation,

-Word Count ~ 2.9k+

-Synopsis ~ Sleeping never comes easy to. You've tried everything from exercising, to warm milk. Maybe the one thing you've been missing is some late night loving?

-A/n ~ loosely inspired by sky Insomnia, the rose insomnia, and dreamcatcher sleep-walking. best to listen to any of those songs as you read it, might help set the mood even though those are all break up songs lmfao. I also have my ko-fi link in my bio help raise more money to help me buy essentials for my emotional support animal, I cannot work at the minute because of my treatment for type 1 bipolar disorder, and door dash doesn't allow me to save up abundantly enough, if you could even only share it I would greatly appreciate it. anyway hope you enjoy this and thank you for reading

Sleep and you have always had a complicated relationship. Fighting sleep as a kid, climbing out of your bed after your parents tucked you in, playing with your toys until you passed out among us. At sleepovers you were always the one who stayed up all night, too excited to actually get tired.

As a teenager spending nights before school desperately trying to finish homework, staying up until the early morning hours, quickly taking a shower before running to the bus. If you had no assignments your crush at the time would distract you, joking and blushing until it was time to leave for school, bags under your eyes prominent, but the loss of sleep was worth it.

Now the only thing you wanted was to sleep.

Insomnia took over your life. Staying up sometimes days at a time, struggling to calm your racing thoughts that were determined to keep you up at night. They won most nights. Laying in your bed, struggling to get comfortable or staring up at the ceiling, willing sleep to overtake you. Even with the medication from the doctor you struggled to get more than 3 hours a night.

You tried other remedies too. Drinking warm milk with cinnamon and vanilla, the warm concoction soothing but never tiring you out. Exercising before bed that truly made you feel amazing but never worked to tire you out, only forcing you to feel the soreness in your body as you laid in bed. No electronics before bed helped you finish multiple books series that you had wanted to start but never had time for, but didn't work.

Everything you tried was in vain. Sleep continued to evade you, and it only took a higher toll on your physical body.

Your appetite started to lessen, your weight slowly declined. The bags under your eyes only got deeper and darker. Concerns about your physical state came form your friends, their worries growing as you continued to get worst and worst. It came to a peak when you almost passed out at an outing, shaky from the constant stream of caffeine that you were consuming in order to function properly, your eyes fluttering close as you collapsed into their arms. Concern was properly covering their face, and they rushed you to the hospital, you were too weak to even try and decline them.

At the hospital they gave you strict instructions to stay home and rest, with someone watching you over to make sure that you were properly taken care of. Along with instructions you got even stronger medication, 20 mgs stronger than what you were currently taking.

Kun being the thoughtful person he is offered to watch you while you were on bedrest. He was the best candidate out of your friends, the others practically pushing you to accept him.

Kun has been the best assistant? nurse? friend that you could ask for. Constantly at your beck and call making sure that you were drinking plenty of water, cooking you fresh homemade meals, and making sure your medication was taken on time. Along with that he also did the awkward task of helping you to the bathroom, since you were still shaky and weak at times.

He did this all without complaint, catering to you everyday and making sure that you were cared for. Sometimes when he wasn't busy with his own work he would sit and watch a drama with you, or just engage in conversation telling you about his day, and the funny things he did and heard.

Having him helping you 24/7 for 2 weeks straight, had caused some unwelcome feelings. Your friends weren't surprised at that, having been part of the reason why they suggested he did it, knowing your past feelings for him. With only a week left of your bedrest you were saddened at the thought that he was leaving, going back to only talking to him once or twice a week whenever the friend group hung out.

Kun had actually been the one who surprised you. Seeing that you were still up one night, thoughts of him running through your mind when he entered your room. Upon seeing you awake he sat on your bed, holding your hand as you asked what's up. You weren't truthful. Who would be truthful in that scenario? 'Hey actually I was up thinking about my crush on you and the desire that I constantly have to kiss you."

You were positive that wouldn't have gone through well.

Kun rubbed your hand soothingly, listening patiently to you as you lied about what you were thinking about, fake worries and complaints about going back to work. Offering you advice was always Kun's strong suit so you were ready for some good advice despite your lies.

That's what got you in this peculiar position.

Lip tucked tightly between your teeth, the taste of copper on your tongue. One hand grasping at the pillow behind you squeezing it tightly between your fingers, the other intertwined with dark blue hair as you tried not to pull too hard.

Kun thought the best thing to clear your mind was sex, and who were you to deny his generous offer.

You felt your hips jerking as tongue pressed his tongue against your hole, shallowly fucking into you. His free hand rubbed up your thigh, the sensation combining with him eating you out causing your mind to start to go blurry. His hand continued to glide up, before pressing down on your hips, forcing them down on the bed.

Without the ability to move you could only lie there as he continued to tongue fuck you. The fire in your stomach increasing, and Kun seemed to know it as he kissed your clit before sucking on it aggressively, causing your first orgasm to rip through your body.

Kun continued his ministrations, licking up your cum causing the fire to come back threefold. Kun sucked on your clit, flicking his tongue over it as you wriggled from the sensitivity. He seemed to be made for this, the way his tongue knew the perfect ways to fuck you open, and he hadn't even involved his fingers or cock yet.

Pulling away from your cunt you saw your juices covering Kun's mouth leaking down his chin. His hair was sticking every which way how you were messing, and pulling on it. Kun looked like all of your wet dreams had happened to come through.

"So pretty." A laugh let his mouth, a smiling spreading over his lips.

"Wish you could see yourself," Kun slid his hand up and down your thigh, rubbing it soothingly, "You're gorgeous. I've been wanting to do this for so long."

Kun changed the positions so that you were on top, straddling his thighs. You could feel his cock straining against his jeans, rubbing over your oversensitive clit in the best way possible. A whimper left your mouth as you started to rock on him, but Kun stilled your hips. His hand slid to your chin, rubbing his thumb along the side of your jaw.

"Can I kiss you?" You didn't bother answering, meeting him halfway. His chapped lips moved against your own as if you've done it before, there was a familiarity to it that made you wrap your arms around his neck pulling him flush against your chest. Sliding his hands up and down your body, lips moving in sync against yours. You nipped at his lip, causing a loud groan to leave his mouth as he opened it for you. Sliding your tongue into his mouth you reveled in the feeling of him taking dominance. His hands gripping your ass tightly, his tongue roughly dancing with yours.

You pulled away, placing your hips on his shoulders as you continued to grind against him. Another groan leaving his mouth as he moved you against him, forcing you to press down harder and faster against him.

"God baby." He leaned back as he looked at you, admiring the way you moved against him, needy and wanting to cum again. "You're so need baby. Who's got you like this hm?" You dropped your head back, continuing to rock your hips against his. Kun felt his cock twitching in his pants at the sight, grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you close to him, placing kisses along your neck and collarbones.

"Kun I need you." You tried to sound strict but it came breathy, a moan following it as he kisses over your jugular, nipping at it before listening to your 'command'. Flipping you over he gave you a peck, before pulling away to take off his clothes. You decided to join him stripping out of your shirt and throwing it across the room.

Kun crawled back over you, but he stopped just taking the time to stare at you.

"I need to say this before. I'm not just fucking you because of your insomnia, I'm not just fucking you to fuck you." Kun intertwined your fingers, "I really like you. I don't want this to just not mean anything to you, when I really like you. Even thought we're doing this backward I hope you can at least think of going on a date with me." You felt your face heat up, and the familiar feeling of fluttering in your stomach at his confession. Placing your hand on his cheek you leaned up, placing a quick kiss on his lips.

"I like you too Kun. More than I can put words to." A big smile spread across his face as he leaned down, showering your face with kisses. "But if you don't put your dick in me right now, you might not ever get that date." A laugh left his mouth as he placed one last kiss against your check, before grabbing the base of his cock and rubbing it up and down your cunt. Collecting some of your juices over his tips he looked down as he pressed into you, muttering a fuck at the sight of you taking him in so well. You threw your head back feeling the fuzziness come back, feeling how well he slid into you.

When Kun bottomed out he placed your still intertwined hands on the pillow beside you, his other hand sliding back to your hip.

"Fuck you feel so good." He growled as he waited for you to adjust, feeling your tight walls practically sucking him in.

"Please move. Please I need you." Kun placed a gentle kiss on your pouty lips before pulling. Thrusting back into you he set a slow pace, being gentle with you not forgetting that you were still on bed rest. Your other arm wrapped around his neck, pulling you closer to him. Feeling skin against skin as he continued to slowly fuck you, enjoying the feeling of him being close to you.

It was more intimate than it should've been, being the first time that you two were having sex but with Kun it felt right. This was more love making than casual fucking and you wouldn't have it any other way. The coil in your stomach started to tighten, Kun's groans helping greatly to push you towards the edge, but the pace he had set wasn't doing it for you.

"Kun." He slowed down, hearing the desperation in your voice and not wanting to hurt you.

"Yes baby? Am I hurting you?" You could hear the slight panic in his voice and shook your head, before meeting his eyes.

"Faster please. I need you rougher." Kun pushed your hair back, before cupping your cheek.

"Are you sure? I don't want to hurt you, you were just hospitalized."

"Please fuck me harder. I need you to ruin me daddy." At your words Kun's eyes darkened and without warning he thrust into you hard, causing a punched out moan to leave your mouth.

The mood changed just the way you needed it to, instead of being slow love sex Kun was fucking you. Hips meeting during every perfectly timed thrust, hitting deep within you as the sound of his balls smacking against your ass filled the room. He let go of your hand, instead opting to grab your waist and pulled you to meet him halfway on every thrust.

Ceaseless moans leaving your lips at the feeling of him fucking into you so beautifully, filling every inch of you. Opening your eyes that hadn't even realized had closed you were met by the sight of Kun, sweat glistening over his abs and dripping down his face. His hair plastered to his forehead, as he bit his lip harshly trying to hold back his groans. Your neighbors should really thank him for having some self control.

Kun slowed down as he lifted your legs up, pushing them towards your chest, folding you in half as he continued his rough pace. This new position causing you to feel him in your chest, the feeling of fullness completely overtaking you as you orgasmed for the second time. He fucked you through your orgasm, the tingly feeling spreading towards your hips as overstimulation set in. Even though his cock was dragging against your walls beautifully, blunt tip pressing into your g spot it started to get painful.

The feeling of it being too much, but not enough at the same time. Tears welling up in your eyes, as Kun pressed against your legs pushing them back further and forcing his cock impossibly deeper.

"F-fuck daddy please." You didn't even know what you were begging for anyway, him effectively fucking you dumb, his hands gripping your thighs tightly to the point where you knew you'd have bruises the next day.

"So tight around me, your pussy is sucking me in even after two orgasms? What's wrong baby? Two isn't enough, you need me to milk another one out of you?" You couldn't respond to him, only listened to him as he spoke, groans leaving his mouth harmonizing with your moans almost.

"Poor baby is fucked dumb," A cruel laugh left his mouth as he stuffed two fingers into your mouth. You sucked on his fingers, twirling your tongue around them. "Can't even speak, only babble and suck on my fingers huh? Lucky you're so cute. You liked being called dumb huh? Can feel the way you're pussy clenched around me? Must be close again." You could only let out a muted moan, Kun's fingers still pressed against your tongue, gagging you effectively.

Pulling his fingers out of your mouth he slid his hand around your throat, tapping his too soaked fingers on the side of your neck.

"So close baby. So. fucking. close." Punctuating his words with an extra hard thrust in between you had lost the ability to think, his hand gently around your neck, more like an accessory but just at the thought of him choking you felt yourself drooling, his thrusts still reaching that spot inside of you that was so deep it'd never been touched before.

As if hearing your thoughts, Kun's hand tightened around your throat, pressing you against the mattress. You came at that moment, Kun's tip hitting your g spot perfectly. Your eyes rolled back as you felt like you had exploded, all of your energy draining out of you with your third orgasm of the night.

At the feeling of you clenching around him so tightly, practically holding you in place Kun pulled out and quickly jerked himself off, cumming over your lower stomach. Kun marveled at the sight of you laid out below him, lips swollen from biting them, hair frizzy from rubbing against the pillow, his white cum painting your stomach, a light red mark around your neck from his hand.

Kun let you sit for a couple minutes before carrying you to the bathroom for a well needed shower. Setting you on the toilet, he let you pee while he started the warm. When you were finished and the water was warm enough Kun helped you into the shower, letting you lean against him as he started to clean the cum from your body.

"Are you okay?" You looked up at Kun, basking in the feeling of the warm water running down your body as Kun rubbed the soapy loofa over your body.

"Never felt better." A crooked smile spread across your face, too tired to even continue the conversation. Kun kissed you on your temple , seemingly sensing it and helped you rinse out. After getting you redressed and back into your bed with clean sheets, Kun went to go to the living room until you grabbed his arm.

"Can you stay?" Even after having sex Kun was still nervous to sleep in the bed with you, but he obliged hearing your soft, sleepy voice. Climbing into bed with you he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you.

"Thank you." Kun hummed, the vibration spreading through his chest and making you giggle.

"For?"

"Taking care of me." Kun placed another kiss on your head.

"You don't have to thank me. I wanted to care for you. Now get some sleep." Cuddling further into Kun, the beat of his heart along with the rise and fall of his chest lulled you to sleep.

For the first time in years, you slept like a baby.

[soft-angelic-kiss]

We’re all  a little bit crazy (5)

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therapsit! Izuku x Patient! Bakugou x Patient! Todoroki x Patient! Shinsou x Patient! Reader

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Chapter 5 trigger warnings- Y/N gets into a small fight, mentions of taking pills, the use of the word psycho and mentions of suicide// lemme know if i missed anything

if that makes you uncomfy don’t read!

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

chapter one here    

 chapter two here  

chapter three here 

chapter four here

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He woke up again on a plush bed after sleeping comfortably, his cheek slightly bruised and a dull pain running through it, he placed his hand on it and nothing felt swollen which was a very good sign. He let out a sigh and moved up to his elbows so he could look around. 

It was different from all the other rooms he’d been in, It had more color, drawings all the walls.. Comfort stuffed animals they sometimes give you at the hospital even bigger stuffed animals.. The room was comfortable.. 

He finally looked next to him and on the floor was Y/N, who was listening to music occasionally flinching from the headphones as she colored in a little book. He didn’t wanna disrupt the girl, so he sat up and carefully grabbed his clipboard looking for her file… 

 F I L E   4

(Patient Name) Y/N Yagi  (Patient #437)

 (Date admitted) 8-3-2009

 (Patient age) 19

 (Patient disorder)  Anxiety, Severe Depression, Sensory Overloading issues, and short temper, but never escalates, ADHD, PTSD, Anorexia, self harm and suicidal thoughts

(History/cause)  When she was 4 her family home went up in flames causing the death of her father (Okorashi) and older brother (Ekai) Which gave her an extreme fear of explosions and loud noises. From the ages of 4-7 her mother became an addict and an alcoholic. She took up abusive habits that left a few horrific scars on her body. When she was 7 her mother finally passed from an overdose that caused her uncle to have to take her in, He’s a kind man and treats her kindly, He sent them here in hopes of making her better, and more ready to come home. He visits often.

(Has patient...)

-attempted suicide?

-attempted homicide?

-attempted any act of self-harm?

-attempted violence on past employees?

-attempted escape?

 (Other). If she gets sensory overwhelmed she tends to scream, hot, kick and cry. They find comfort in the other patients, Bakugou, Todoroki, Shinsou and the boys downstairs. She tends to stick her nails into the skin of whoever grabs her, she needs to be sedated if she has a breakdown. 

(Danger level) 9/10

Izuku raised an eyebrow, the description of the person sitting down in front of him.He felt like it didn’t match her at all. He decided to take a gentle approach to greeting Y/N to make sure she didn’t have an “episode” as the paper put it. 

He gently swung his feet over the side and crouched down hoping to get into her sightline. He crawled to sit in front of her placing his hands on the floor in front of her coloring book. 

Y/N looked up, slightly startled but then took her headphones off, the change causing her head to spasm backwards before resuming her normal position. “Hi!” They smiled, placing her hands on the coloring book in front of Izuku’s. “Hi, Y/N right?” He spoke calmly, not wanting to put off the human infront of him. “Yeah! And you are...Izuku? Midoryia?” She tilted her head curiously and smiled, pumping a fist into the air when Midoryia nodded a smile being brought to his own lips. He was absolutely hooked by Y/N. Their backstory, their personality, they were such an interesting person and he couldn’t wait to learn more. 

“Yeah. You got it right, good job.” he chuckled when her cheeks turned pink with embarrassment from his praise. Izuku chuckled again and leaned forward slightly and watched as Y/N leaned back. 

Izuku shook his hands carefully and leaned back “Is this more comfortable?” Y/N nodded and smiled softly leaning forward again to resume coloring. Izuku smiled and decided to just watch her for a few moments.

The two hung out not moving position for at least half an hour, until Y/N looked towards the door and started cowering when the door opened and the men in white stood there with a medical tray full of many medical instruments he'd never seen before. 

Y/N jumped to their feet and tried to hide behind Izuku as one of them said “Y/N, Please I don’t want to have to repeat what happened yesterday.” He went to reach for her but she smacked his hand and continued standing behind Midoryia who was eyeing the men with a suspicious look. 

The blonde one who had spoke already finally went to grab them only to have his hands smacked away, but instead of a hand, he felt a clipboard against his wrist as he cried out “what THE-” the man went to hit Izuku but the greenette had blocked his second hit as well 

“She’s scared. I’m going to have to ask you to leave because you are not helping.” Izuku’s tone held dominance and authority as the man scoffed “Oh really?-” His words were cut short as Y/N lept towards him and started hitting him. 

she had gotten a few punches in before Izuku had interfered and pulled her back and away from him holding them, they cling to him. “She’s just psycho-” he started again but was cut off by Midoryia straight up shoving him out of the door 

Midoryia had shut the door and looked at the medical supplies and then at Y/N who was back on their bed. Midoryia hummed softly looking at them with a soft but concerned gazed “Are you alright?” They nodded timidly “U-um.. yeah, i think..” 

They kept eyeing the cart and rubbing their arms. Izuku was angry beyond belief but kept his cool for Y/N. “Do you know what these are?” he asked as he walked over to the cart. Y/N nodded “Those are what the use to sedate me and give me my medications..” Izuku nodded and looked at the cart, it had 4 different pills, a tiny box of apple juice and a needle filled with a liquid. He picked up the needle and watched Y/N flinch back 

Izuku shook his head “No, no.. i’m gonna dispose of it, not use it okay?” He went and wrapped it up throwing it in the hazard trash can in the bathroom coming back out looking at the cart. 

“Okay, do you have an order you need to take them in or can you just take them one at a time?” 

Y/N looked confused as they stood up walking to Izuku and the cart “I c-can just take them.. why are you helping? aren’t you supposed to..” 

Izuku shook his head “So far all of you have said that… No, i’m not supposed to be mean, i’m supposed to help you get better so can you take..” he handed Y/N two of the four pills and handed her the apple juice “these and then the other ones?” he smiled

Y/N nodded and took the two and then waited 30 seconds before taking the other two. Izuku nodded and smiled “Thank you.. Now I believe” He stopped and checked his watch “It’s almost dinner time, If you want you can go head down to the cafeteria?” He smiled at her

Y/N thought for a moment “Will you come eat with me?” She tapped her foot on the ground and looked away as Izuku chuckled

 “It’s not my dinner break,” Y/N had frowned and got ready to ask again.

“but I’ll still come sit with you?” Izuku smiled when Y/N’s face lit up 

Y/N gave a big smile and nodded “Okay!” they had opened the door and ran out with an excited yell of “KATSU! TODO! SHIN!” as she catapulted herself into the boys arms as they hugged her back. 

“Why don’t you go to the cafeteria and We’ll be right behind you okay?” Shinsou spoke caring and calmly and all three boys had a quirk of a smile as she smiled and ran off down the halls “GOT IT!” you could hear their laughter as they went down the stairs with a much kinder doctor.

As Izuku walked out of the door locking it behind him he was quickly met with the three faces he’s seen previously looking at him with glares. He gulped before speaking in a meek voice “Y-yes?” Bakugou raised an eyebrow and scoffed before nodding at him “Not a bad idiot.” and the other two nodding in agreement before the bell above them rang for dinner.

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tag list~  @buckyneedsplums @lazywriterfullofideas09 @notchittatenn @physco-101

for some reason it might not let me tag you also if I forgot you just lemme know!

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a/n: I’m so sorry for getting this out so late! I’ve been very busy recently and I’ve been preparing for BIG things in my personal life so chapters may be extremely short or non existent. I also didn’t plan to have so many supporters for this series so i didn’t really have a clue what to do with the story. I still don’t. I have one more chapter ready in my head but after that I’m not sure where this series will go. Anyways, as usual I hope you enjoyed and please feel free to reblog, like or say something in my inbox! I’m open to writing one shots if you guys are interested, I was thinking about writing one shots instead of continuing with actual chapters after chapter 6 

[adhdeancas]

wait so fellow adhder I'm I think that actually all of the TFW are actually ND. Cas has autism, dean has adhd, and hear me out, Sam has ocd. the intrusive thoughts? obsessive behavior? eating and acting clean literally to a point where it is inconvenient for everyone involved? I think he is obsessing over being clean and fresh (compared to demon blood and souless Sam, sleazy and nasty Sam) also I have a few reasons for thinking dean us adhd but y do u think so sorry I'm rambling

let’i’ve been waiting all my life for you to come into my inbox and talk to me about this

of COURSE TFW are ND!!! of course!! and yes, yes, we all know Cas has autism I love my autistic angel and i love the hc that Sam has ocd because it does fit really well!

(sectioned all of this out because it’s better for adhders to read, you get it)

his ocd directly bleeds into his poor self-esteem like you said with the demon blood! he feels the need to be pure and even though he canonically knows that these things (like eating clean, running, etc) can’t help his problem, he still tries because he kind of... has to. 

also OCD is often connected to a need for control, and the physical state of sam’s body is the one thing he has control over (which is also where we get into eating disorder territory). Sam has had so little control over his life, especially growing up, and for most his childhood, he didn’t even control what he ate (with Dean making/buying his meals). SO once he gets out of that environment, he hyperfixates on this new freedom!

we can also go to the hand pressing with this. a literal compulsion that even after the effect of the pain wears off once the hand heals, he still does it as a grounding method. nonsensical compulsion to calm anxiety? yes OCD 

can also be linked to childhood trauma but what ND can’t be amirite

emotional regulation once again - remember Angry Boy King Sammy? So angry he doesn’t know what to do and can’t control it and feels like he’s gonna explode with the rage?

intrusive (sometimes violent) thoughts are a huge marker for OCD and Sam’s obviously sometimes come from Unnatural means but they are also a part of him and kind of always have been

religious themes are also huge in OCD which Fits and makes me EMOTIONAL Sam I’m so sorry he spent his whole childhood feeling unclean and unholy and Fixated on that to the point of praying to a God his family didn’t believe in just so he could be Clean fuck

also i think it’s really interesting and cool that of the two brothers, Sam shows the most obvious signs of OCD even though he is canonically the messier brother and the brother not worried about IRL germs (i know the writers didn’t try to do this but i don’t care they didn’t play into the OCD means i must germex! trope)

AND ADHD DEAN!!! 

let’s first look at the obvious: Dean is highly skilled in combat, even though he hates physical exercise. Why? ADHD brain tied up with anxiety is hardwired into flight or fight, not sit and focus on one thing. it’s constantly picking up on threats and peripheral vision and all that shit 

he also has a spotty history with books! like i’ve said before, not shit writing, this is Dean’s ADHD. Dean as a kid read some high-brow books and he still does occasionally but he doesn’t nearly as much as an adult because it became much harder!! and because he just couldn’t devote that much attention, even as a kid, to things that he wasn’t really interested in! This is why he hates research

he’s known far and wide for his impulsiveness, his knee jerk decisions. it’s part of what makes him a good hunter and part of what makes him human disorder incarnate - It’s ADHD

Low frustration tolerance and rejection-sensitive dysphoria! Dean has a really hard time regulating his emotions and especially anger - especially especially especially when he feels like he’s being rejected or abandoned. it’s literally his worst fear 

^^^^ rejection-sensitive dysphoria also plays into his low self-esteem (god poor kid to have RSD in an environment growing up where Everyone Was Constantly Busting Each Other’s Balls and couldn’t be emotionally available to also tell you they actually love you), high self standards, and social anxiety (he’s a bullshitter, his chameleon charm is also a symptom of his social anxiety and RSD) 

also Dean has lots of sleep problems both ways and complicated relationships with motivation and inner restlessness versus a yearning for stability 

comfort items / food!! now i can’t find the research on this so forgive me because i know i’ve read it somewhere that ADHDers tend to gravitate toward familiar things or foods! (like Dean’s burgers and his car / motels that are all basically the same) it is a very ND thing in general as well

along that line, ADHDers tend to have sensory processing issues - it’s why Dean has an Outfit Recipe of the same types of clothes that he sticks to - also why he delights so much in sensory stuff like magic fingers and the Dead Guy Robe

(((jfc i thought of this point while writing out the last one and then forgot it and had to stare at the screen for a minute, now I’ve forgotten it again while writing this thank you adhd))) AH YES! auditory processing! Remember how we make fun of Dean for his lame comebacks? Remember how we make fun of him for his buffer speed in The Scene? baby that’s because it takes him five extra seconds to translate those words let alone RESPOND

not to mention people with ADHD often have much higher rates of anxiety/depression (duh) and substance abuse (yes)

lmao in researching this the article I was looking at says that lead exposure as a child can lead to ADHD and jfc you KNOW those shitty motels had Exclusively Lead Paint smh

BUT ONE OF MY FAVORITES of course has to be that Dean gets along so well with autistic Cas!! as an adhd dude with an autistic best friend, WE DIG! adhd and autism go so well together because we can get each other in ways that others just Can’t. adhd and autism have a lot of overlap/similarities in brain function and shit. 

tend to eschew social conventions and be much more straightforward/want that in others

they can both have the tendency to fidget and depending on upbringing mask that for some people - which also leads to being social chameleons

they both have comfort items / foods that NT find really strange or childish in my experience

sensory disorders!!! cas with his ONE OUTFIT and Dean with his different colored ONE OUTFIT 

Anyway i’m in love with this and i have so many thoughts but here are a few of them thank you very much for this ask i love that you came to me 

[appleciders]

Rachel + Leah + Water, the Director’s Cut!

Okay, so I made this gifset exploring Rachel and Leah and the ocean, but because there’s a ten gif limit and a major point of gifsets is for them to look nice, I had to sacrifice a lot of the behind the scenes thoughts and initial versions that came along the way. I still wanted to talk about them though, because I found a lot of them really cool, so I figured I’d stick all that in this post. It’s gonna get long, so you can find the rest under the cut!

So first up, we have Leah as we first see her in the water. (I’m using shitty screenshots because tumblr has a 2mb limit for gifs on text posts and I don’t feel like compressing these down lmao.) Here, she’s face-down, unconscious, floating on a fragment of the plane. This is the first time we see any of the girls in the water.

As Leah gives her dramatic speech talks to the detectives, we see flashbacks to the girl’s lives pre-island. There we see that one of them already has a very strong relationship with the water already, in her before-life: Rachel.

Rachel, as we know, is a diver. We see her take a magnificent tumble into the pool, but when she surfaces, her coach is sternly head-shaking. She corrects Rachel’s form, and after she walks away, Rachel echoes the correction, clearly frustrated with herself. 

Back to Leah. We next see Leah waking up on her lil chunk of flotsam. When she realizes what the hell’s going on, she does what we all would do and starts screaming in terror.

Her panic gets interrupted by Jeannette’s classic Raise Your Glass ringtone. (This was my alarm for two years in high school, and when I watched this for the first time I did have an out-of-body experience). She swims her way over to the Hello Kitty suitcase and—irrationally—unzips it, but we’ll cut her some slack because she’s in some serious shock. As she tries to get the phone, it slips through her fingers and starts spiraling down to the bottom of the ocean. She dives after it.

Unfortunately, she quickly runs out of air and has to give up. She then spots Jeannette floating nearby, checks her out, judges her to be “just a little roughed up,” and then sees land and has a big oh-thank-fuck moment. Because we saw Gretchen’s team placing all of the girls, we know that Linh and Leah were the only two that were put out in the open water. The other girls were put in the beach, or, in Martha’s case, near the shore. This was probably done to quell some of Leah’s suspicions about the crash, but it does give me a couple questions about how they got the other girls wet—did they hose them all down? Pour a couple buckets over their heads? Bob each of them up and down a couple times in a big net like fries in a fryer?? 

Anyway, not important. 

Next that we see, Leah has pulled Jeannette/Linh in from the water. (My Australian parents, who can never pass up an opportunity to give ocean safety tips, chimed in at this point in our first watch to say “See how she’s doing it! You always want to hold someone from behind and pull them in that way. Good job, well done.” So there’s some approval for you, Leah.) As Leah nears the shore, Dot and Toni come tearing in and they help pull the two of them out. 

The rest of the episode after that really only concerns fresh water—Toni and Shelby set out in search of it, to no avail, and Nora helpfully plugs Diet Coke reminds us multiple times that sugar’s heavier than water, so “sugar sinks.” We do set up a goal for the next couple episodes, though: Rachel says, “I'm gonna swim out to the plane tomorrow. See if I can find anything,” and Leah volunteers to come with. Rachel gives her a nod of respect.

Moving on to episode two, we have Rachel and Leah’s (iconic) first real conversation. Rachel says she’s still going out to the wreckage. Leah looks out and looks back at her, incredulous, and says, “Rachel, the water’s insane.” Here’s a big recurring association—the water and “insanity.” (I use insanity here because that’s the language they use, along with psycho/crazy. In no way does that reflect my actual beliefs about their behavior nor am I condoning the way they use those words.) Leah points out the rip current (“well done,” said my mum), and explains her very brief stint as a norcal surfer. Rachel still looks set on going, but then Leah says:

Turns out, Leah can be as ripe with foreshadowing as Fatin. This marks the appearance of their second main association with the ocean—death. After she says this, Leah turns Rachel’s attention inland, and the two agree to climb a big hill to scope out their situation.

Episode two is also obviously Rachel’s episode, so we see a lot of her relationship with diving. 

We see her plunge over and over and over again, drilling technique and form, but despite all her hard work, we learn her coach advised her to quit the team. Instead, Rachel throws herself in twice as hard, and ends up with an eating disorder. By the time the nationals come around, she’s too physically weak to dive safely, and she ends up hitting her head as she goes down. She surfaces in the pool with blood flowing around her.

She refuses to see that as the end of her diving career. She says she’s gonna “get back out there” and “be fucking great again” and she tells Nora at the end of the episode that she needs her to let her believe that.

In episode three, we finally see Leah and Rachel’s trip out to the plane! Nora comes along with them, her relationship with Rachel smoothed over after the events of ep two. “Nora’s a good swimmer,” Rachel explains as she invites her, “We were both water babies.” Water’s clearly been central to Nora and Rachel’s identities since they were really young. 

The three of them make their escape from the rest of the girls as the topic of building a shelter comes up. “Not interested in putting down roots!” Rachel calls. In keeping with the elements theme, Rachel isn’t looking to be grounded. She climbs super high into the air and she dives deep into the water, but earth isn’t her thing. (See: the quicksand scene. Whoops.)

Anyway, the three of them paddle out into the water. Rachel dives down, scopes out the plane, tells Nora she doesn’t expect her to “fucking free dive in open water,” and then looks to Leah and asks if she’s ready. Leah reluctantly agrees. 

We get our first shot Rachel swimming down into the ocean and our second shot of Leah (first the phone, second the plane). In the wreckage of the plane, they discover the black box, affixed to the wall. They keep trying to wrench it free, but it’s stuck, and Leah—who’s primary activity is, like, reading—keeps having to surface for air. Rachel gets frustrated and grabs her leg, holding her down. 

Leah screams and fights, but Rachel doesn’t let go. We cut away, and when we see them again, they’ve emerged victorious (Rachel) and drowned as dogs after a bath (Leah and Nora) with the black box in hand. Later, Leah mutters the above line to Fatin, calling Rachel a “psychopath.” For those keeping score at home, here’s where we refer back to the association between water and “insanity.”

In episode four, the ocean benevolently bestows a bag of takis upon Nora, and we have our whole shelter-building shebang. It’s all very land-based until Leah and Fatin go head to head, which ends with Fatin smearing her blood all over Leah’s face. Leah, with her usual flair, strips off her clothes as she walks into the ocean. She stays down there, passively letting the water wash the blood from her face.

This shot parallels a couple things. First, the drifting blood visually parallels Rachel in the pool after her diving injury. Second, we have Rachel staring out at the water where Leah’s disappeared and going, “Man, that is some real Virginia Woolf-type shit.” Dot has no fucking clue what she means, so Fatin interprets: “It means that bitch is crazy. She said you were the psychopath of the group.” Now it’s Leah who’s done something in the water that’s been deemed insane. The water and “insanity;” the water and accusations of insanity within their relationship. 

Those accusations pop up in episode five, but the episode is pretty focused on the inland search for Fatin, and revolves around fresh water, not salt water. (That could be a whole nother post lol.) It’s in episode six where we again see these two return to the ocean. 

Rachel is diving in the ocean! For fun! She’s picking up pretty shells (which granted isn’t the safest thing to do in the pacific, cone snails are not our friends), and she’s grinning, and she’s generally enjoying herself. With the, uh, finale situation, we’re probably not gonna get to see her smile for a bit, which is sad, because she should get to do this more often! This shot visually echoes her diving for the plane and Leah diving for the phone, except she can be in a better mood because there is no end goal. 

So she goes diving, ends up finding a bunch of mussels, gathers ‘em up, and brings ‘em back to camp. They all chow down, but wind up with serious food poisoning. Martha and Toni ring death’s doorbell a couple of times. Rachel blames herself—she’s the one that went swimming out there, she brought the mussels back. Again, we see that connection between the ocean and death.

And that association comes back bright an early in ep seven! The tide surges higher than they’ve ever seen, taking down their shelter and leaving them all scrambling. 

While Leah convinces Fatin that her life is more important than her suitcase, Rachel is left with a decision: help Nora, screaming to her from where she’s clinging to a rock for dear life, or grab the black box. In a move that contrasts Toni’s immediate and unquestioning aid of Martha, Rachel picks the black box. 

After, when they’re debriefing, Nora’s quick to bring it up. She doesn’t hide her hurt. “It happened so fast,” she says, “we all acted irrationally. Like Fatin, who jumped into a rip current to save her toothbrush. Or Rachel, who left me for fucking dead.” I think this counts as a double whammy for the “insanity” and death count—I think “acted irrationally” is as close as Nora gets to calling anyone crazy, and is honestly a better descriptor of all the other instances of “insanity” that we’ve seen, and the ocean was the source of the very real risk to Nora’s life. 

(Honestly, I think Rachel thought she was making a rational choice here—just with some grim fucking calculus. Still, given that nobody’d responded to the black box by then, I think it was a decision fueled by the need to keep hold of hope more than actual rationality.) In a fun contrast to the rest of the episode, it’s Leah that keeps a level head in this situation. 

The rest of the episode is low on water scenes, though Leah’s paranoia about Shelby is fueled by her sneaking off to the water, which could fall under the “insanity” category. It also marks where Nora begins to take an active role in breaking apart Rachel’s fantasy about diving again. 

Ep eight has one of the best montages in a series of great montages, with the playing in the water scene! A plane has seen them, they’re gonna be saved, and they all get to get high and act like kids. 

I have this lingering and probably irrational concern that the entire water play scene is choreographed and that it’s chock-full of foreshadowing. Like I know to some extent they likely were just like “yeah guys go goof off in the water,” but like...the wave pulling Rachel and Nora apart here...I mean.... (Rachel is probably gonna get more blood on Dot in the near future, too. ) That aside, their horseplay gets interrupted when Leah notices some blood on Dot, which Rachel realizes is her own period blood.  

Fatin then chimes in with her ever-gleeful foreshadowing: “Shark week for Rachel.” So while this whole encounter with the water actually seems mostly good for a change, it’s colored by the tie-in to what we know is coming.

In ep nine, reality has set in that rescue isn’t imminent. Everyone’s starving, Leah has started to spiral, and Rachel’s unusually skittish. By the tide’s edge, Nora asks for her help fishing, but Rachel refuses, saying that she’s weak. Nora flicks water at her, and Rachel flinches, clearly scared.

Starvation seems to have triggered Rachel’s trauma around the water leftover from her diving accident. In response, Nora reaches out a hand and says, “Let’s go for a walk.”

Meanwhile, Leah’s spiral has reached critical. She starts ranting about the ocean and the water and pushes past Dot, sprinting into the waves:

And so she’s taken to heart the way they think Jeannette’s body “escaped” the island—the tide—and it’s been spun like cotton candy in her head. She’s right, technically—Jeanette/Linh’s body was moved off the island by boat, and there’s definitely an argument that if they really did all swim out Gretchen’s team would save them, or at least try to. This is also a very real suicide attempt. So it’s kind of a culmination of the threats of death and mental health issues that’ve been wrapped up in the ocean since the start.

On Rachel’s end, Nora has taken her up to a cliff. Rachel calls the whole thing “borderline insane,” walking up when they’re so low on energy, but Nora tells her she needs to make a truce between herself and the water. 

“You’re afraid of it now,” she says, and Rachel replies that, “All it ever did was make me sick.” Nora immediately surges forward to say “That’s not true!” Rachel, incredulous, says, “Isn't this what you want? For me to hang it up? For me to forget the whole fucking diving game?” Nora says, “No. I don't know. I don't want you to forget you.” She then tells Rachel she should dive off the end of the cliff, that she marked it to make sure it’s safe. Rachel says she can’t.

There’s a lot here. First, there’s the first time we’ve seen of Rachel explicitly call herself sick. In episode two, even in a treatment center, she still denies it, says she’s just an athlete who knows what it takes. But now she’s reached a place where she acknowledges her eating disorder—and also probably her recent illness with the mussels—and ties it directly to the water. It’s the reason she’s sick.

Nora’s fear that Rachel will forget herself also just hammers home how central the water has always been to Rachel’s identity. Cutting herself off from the water would be cutting off a core part of herself. (...whoops) And we’ve seen that it does bring her actual joy, when she’s allowed to relax with it, but she’s had such traumatic associations rolled up into it now. Nora doesn’t want Rachel to do diving as a sport anymore, because of how badly it’s hurt her, but she does want Rachel to keep diving and swimming as like, a form of unevaluated personal expression.

At the moment that Rachel’s refusing to jump, she and Nora hear shouts from the mainland. They see Fatin and Dot screaming after Leah. Confused, Nora asks, “Where is she going?” but Rachel understands immediately, with absolute certainty, without needing to be told—“To fucking drown to death.” Seven episodes after Leah called heading into the water a death wish, she’s finally proving it true. Rachel squares her shoulders, takes a few deep breaths, and sprints into a dive. 

Unlike all her other dives high altitude dives we’ve seen her do, this dive isn’t qualified based on aesthetics. This dive matters because of what it will do, not on how it looks. And what it does do is bring her into the ocean, where she needs to be for her friend. So with strong strokes, she swims out towards Leah.

When she reaches her, she takes hold of her, pulls her into her chest from behind. She begins to swim with her back to shore. This rescue directly parallels Leah’s rescue of Linh that we talked about above. It also, as the Out in the Wilds podcast insightfully pointed out, really calls Rachel and Leah’s relationship back to the beginning. Whereas Rachel had initially held Leah down in the water, putting her in danger of drowning, Rachel here pulls her out of the water, saving her from drowning. Together, they make it all the way back to the shore.

Finally (and, like, if you’ve made it all the way down here? bless you. thank you), we have episode ten. The ocean doesn’t really figure into episode ten until the very end. Rachel has had a long episode of healing—she’s happy to be full and she’s in a good place with her sister and things seem to be going pretty okay. She decides to heal her relationship with the water, too. She heads out, telling Nora that she’s “Just gonna float, Nor. Just float.”

Just floating. After all the times we saw her plunging into the water, purposefully, with frustration, with drive, with so much to prove and with so much sacrifice and self-abuse to prove it with, Rachel finally just wants to float. She wants to let herself relax. She wants to let the water carry her.

Of course, that means there has to be, like, a massive marine carnivore waiting to mistake her for a seal.

Visually, this shot really parallels the opening shot of Leah on the fragment of plane. Instead of being face-down, though, she’s face-up, and she’s conscious, just not of the threat from below. 

The shark bites.

In a horrible parallel to Leah’s Virginia Woolf moment and Rachel’s diving accident, we see blood pool in the water. Rachel is pulled under. The girls on the land start screaming and running toward her. We know Rachel doesn’t die, but this is still a near-death experience, one that probably cost her her arm. Leah, covered in dirt and her own blood after crawling out of the pit Nora led her into, can only stand and watch, shocked and horrified.

So that got! Way longer than I meant it to! And honestly most of this was condensed into very concise tags in a post I made a few days ago! But if you made it all the way down here, you’ve now seen everything I wanted to fit into that gifset but couldn’t. Thanks for sticking with me, friend <3

[dork-empress]

Singing In The Dead Of Night Ch 2

Harley and Barman set up a playdate for their wards.

forgive the long post, i'll edit and clean it up when im home. chapter can also be found on my ao3, url in the description.

Harley made it back home, which was actually the manor of some billionaire who only really used the house for tax purposes. Harley had taken it over when Lucy came to live with her, deciding she needed more room, and they quickly changed it to suit their needs.

“Luuuucyyyy, I’m hooooome,” Harley called out to the manor, heading through the living room/gymnasium.

Lucy was balancing on the beam by her hands. “Never heard that one before.” She went into the splits and stayed on one hand.

Harley looked over her form. “Point your toes more...there ya go.” Lucy did as recommended. “I got candy for dinner!” She dumped her stolen lollipops on the table.

“I already ate, Aunt Harley,” she said, “I made extra pasta if you want.” She pointed over to the kitchen, before switching hands and flipping herself over.

“Oh,” Harley said, going over to make a plate, but feeling like ants were crawling in her skin. “You know, you don’t have to call me your aunt when it’s just the two of us,” She said, swirling her fork through the noodles.

Lucy shrugged, “Force of habit. Plus it’s a good idea in general, ya know, in case someone’s secretly listening in or we mess up some other time.”

Harley shrugged her shoulders. “Makes sense,” and it did, but it still kind of hurt. “You can have the lollipops for dessert though. You like cherry?” She tossed her the red candy.

Lucy looked down at the wrapper a second. “Can’t, I’m allergic to the red dye.”

“Oh,” Harley said, silently cursing herself. That was something that mothers should know about their kids, allergies and crap. “Well. Lemon then?”

“Sure!” They traded the lollipops, and Harley sucked on hers between bites of the pasta. Sweet and savory combined, delicious.

Lucy swung her legs as she sat on the beam. “Does...my father have any allergies?”

Harley blinked at her. Did Joker have any allergies? It was hard to say. Even now, Harley didn’t know a lot about the Joker. That’s how he liked it. “Best not to talk about it,” she said instead, “In case of those listening things or whatever.”

Lucy hummed, but didn’t seem satisfied. “Hey,” Harley said, trying to distract her from the ‘dad’ talk, “You wanna go out with me tomorrow?”

Lucy brightened, jumping a bit, “Where are you gonna go?”

“I dunno,” she said, “Go lookin’ for trouble. Let the trouble find me. Punch out a couple people but only if they REALLY deserve it!” And maybe if they only kinda deserved it, Harley thought.

Lucy hummed again, thinking. “I dunno. I think violence often begets further violence, and while it is occasionally necessary, efforts should focus more on the community building and personal improvement area.”

Harley blinked at her. Right, she was a reader, Delia had mentioned that. Not unlike Harley at her age, really, although Harley had focused on psychoanalysis instead of philosophy. “Ah, of course,” she said, “Well, what do you wanna do?”

Lucy thought for a second. “Well, there was this girl I wanted to go inspire to fight her eating disorder.”

“Oh,” Harley said nodding. It was a noble cause, really, but...also seemed really, really boring. “I...sure!” she smiled.

The truth was, when Lucy came out to live with Harley full time, she had really thought they would be a lady dynamic duo, a proper partnership mother/daughter team. But Lucy wasn’t much like Harley. Or, she was but, she was different, a goody two-shoes. Or, a goody tutu. Ha.

More than that, she followed a strange sense of logic that was oddly reminiscent of...Harley didn’t even finish the thought.

“You don’t want to go, do you?” Lucy asked.

“Hmm? Of course I do!” Harley said, “I’d do anything with you sweetheart,” she gave Lucy a wink, then went to the kitchen to hide her facial expression.

She didn’t see that Lucy had followed her until she was directly behind her. “Oh, Jesus!” She said, clutching her heart, “Gotta look out there, sweetie. Almost brained ya!”

“Is Dad like me at all?” she asked, head tilted to the side.

Harley blinked at her. She felt like her bones were shaking inside her skin. “Why would you ask a thing like that?”

Lucy spun a little in place making her tutu swish. “I’ve been reading about him. People think he’s crazy. I mean, he says it. But that’s not what your records say.”

Harley frowned, backing away as though physical distance would get her out of the conversation. “What’re you goin through my records for? What, are you a snoop?”

“They got published after one of your arrests,” Lucy said, “Other people were more interested in the little notes you left in the margins, but--”

“Alright, stop.” Harley said, hand clutching her lollipop stick so tight it might break. “Look, Mr...your father is mean and cruel and manipulative, and nothing like you! He wants to drive other people crazy, and for some people, self included, he succeded. But I grew out of it as best I could and now...you don’t need to worry about him, ok? He ain’t ever gonna know about ya, and he ain’t ever gonna find ya. Got it?”

Lucy hesitated a second and there was something strange in her eyes. Something familiar. “Got it,” she finally said.

Harley lightened, smiling at her. “Why don’t we play a game or somethin? You like Monopoly? I make up my own rules!”

Lucy smiled, “That sounds nice,” she said, all bright again. As they set up the game, Lucy said, “You don’t have to come with me tomorrow, by the way. I can take care of myself.”

“You sure?” Harley asked. Lucy nodded. For the rest of the evening, Harley felt like something was…off.

She slipped the burner phone out of her pocket. She typed, ‘Wanna set up a playdate?’

“She called it a WHAT?!” Damian said, nose wrinkled in disgust.

“Aww,” Tim said, over by the batcave computer, “Little Damian’s got a plaaayydaaate.”

“I will end you, Drake.” Damian snarled, fingers twitching for his sword.

“Enough,” Bruce interrupted the both of them. “Damian, if it helps you can think of it as a mission.”

“I thought I was forbidden from Robin duties for the next two months.” Damian said, arms crossed.

Bruce groaned. “Harley has taken in a ward, her niece Lucy. She has some petty crime charges, but from my recon, she’s not a villain. Harley wants her to spend time with someone her age, and I need someone who will watch over her.”

“Watch out for her, or watch out because of her?” Damian asked, scowling.

“Oooh, good question,” Tim said, still at the computer. “Hey, how come you didn’t set me up with vigilante kids?”

“Because you found them on your own,” Bruce shot back, “Look. Damian, you just have to spend the day with her. Follow her around, help her out as long as it’s not hurting anyone. Don’t let her get killed. Invite Jon if you want.”

“Uggh, Jon’s off world with his Dad,” Damian said.

“Oh right,” Bruce said, massaging his temple. “Why do interdimensional crises have to happen at the worst times?”

“Why is it we need a plural for interdimensional crisis?” Tim asked.

Bruce gave him a side glance to let him know he was coming up on the line that breached from ‘annoying’ to ‘problem Bruce will deal with.’ “Damian…”

“Fine, I’ll do it,” he said, “But I won’t be her friend by you forcing us.”

“Fine.”

They met up with Harley at a neutral location downtown on top of a party goods store. “Hiya Batsy, Hey Bird Boy!”

Despite himself, Damian liked Harley. She was usually of a like mind about which villains did or didn’t deserve to live, but he didn’t tell Batman that. “Harley,” Batman said, “Where’s your niece?”

“Just doin some high-wire practice.” Harley said, “Lucy-goosey!”

From the side of the building, a girl faulted up from where she was hanging on the flagpole. A girl wearing a tutu and white paint. “Nice to meet you, Batman,” Lucy said, “Aunt Harley’s told me….a lot of mixed things.”

“YOU!” Damian said, before he could stop himself, and all three of the others turned to him.

Lucy trotted forward on her tiptoes. “Have we met?” She asked, tilting her head, and looking him up and down.

Damian swallowed. “Uhh….”

“Blackbird!” Lucy said, and swooped him up into a hug, “Oh, I knew you were a Robin, why’d you lie to me?”

“Blackbird, huh?” Batman said, and he couldn’t see, but he knew there was a very pointed eyebrow being raised at him.

Damian, still being swung like a ragdoll by Lucy, tried to gain his balance. “I didn’t...I mean I wasn’t…”

“We’ll talk about this later,” Batman said, “You kids go on, I have something to talk about with Harley.”

“Kids?!” Damian said, offended, especially that he was going to be left out of whatever this conversation was. But in doing so, he left himself vulnerable as Lucy pulled on his cowl to the edge of the building.

“Come on, birdy, whatever color you are. The city awaits!” And she jumped from the roof, grappling on outcroppings to reach the street safely. Damian grumbled, but eventually followed.

Harley looked to Batman, and her face fell. “He’s out there, isn’t he?”

Batman gave one slow nod.

Lucy skipped everywhere. It was very irritating, because it was faster than walking, but slower than running, so hard to keep pace. Also,it was just very perky, which made it hard to sulk.

Lucy claimed she had deliveries to make around town. Something about girls who were bullies in high school and were treating others poorly, but it was only because of the societal pressures that were put on young girls of America and...and thats about where Damian lost interest.

She carried a cartfull of boxes like a damn girlscout, and left them on the girls doors. Damian could have followed in his sleep...except there was something about one of the boxes….

“What’s in that one?” Damian asked as she brought it to the next home.

“Huh?” Lucy said, “Same thing as in all of them, some cookies, a letter, balloons of course and--”

“It’s beeping,” Damian said.

“What?”

Damian didn’t wait any longer, he grabbed the box out of her arms and tossed it as high into the sky as he could, tackling her to the ground. The box then exploded.

Lucy gasped in excitement, clapping her hands together. “Birdy, look at it! It’s fireworks!”

Damian growled, jumping off of her and taking out his sword. “I knew it, I knew you were up to no good.”

Lucy tilted her head. “Whatcha talkin about, Birdy?”

“You--” He pointed to where the box was still smoldering. “You were going to put a BOMB on that girl’s doorstep!”

“I didn’t put that there,” Lucy said, getting up with no care of the sword pointed at her.

“You-” Damian stammered. “What?”

Lucy bent down and picked up a scrap of paper from the ruins. “Change of plans for the evening, Birdy!” Lucy said, “We’re going puzzling!”

She tossed the paper at him and he grabbed it quickly. It read ‘I’ve the tallest of trunks and thickest of stumps, a switch in the breeze, but I’m no tree. What am I?’”

They came quickly to the elephant pasture at the zoo. Damian couldn’t help it, he held out his hand for the elephant. She reached out her trunk and wrapped it around him. He couldn’t help but laugh.

Her baby came forward this time, trotting on new steps. He was already the size of a small horse, but he stole Damian’s heart all the same. He tried to bowl Damian over like a large puppy, and Damian couldn’t help but laugh. “Didn’t know you could laugh, Birdy,” Lucy said, kneeling over a shady patch in the enclosure.

Damian’s scowl returned. “Stop calling me ‘Birdy,’” he said, “You can just say ‘Robin,’ if you want.”

“But aren’t there other Robins?” Lucy said, fiddling with something, “I’d love to call you something unique to you.”

“There’s already a Blackbird, you know.” Damian said, continuing to pet the baby elephant.

“There is?” Lucy asked, “Picking a superhero name is HARD. I’m still trying to get Commedia to stick. You know, like, Commedia del arte? But I’ll end up getting called ‘Tutu girl’ or something if I don’t watch out.”

Damian gently pushed the elephant away, seeing what she was doing. She was hands deep in another box like the one they’d found in her cart. “Careful, it could be another bomb.”

“Fireworks,” Lucy corrected, “and I already diffused it.”

Damian leaned down, looking. She had indeed done so, quite efficiently. “How did you know to do that?”

Lucy smiled, “An uncle of mine taught me. You’ll meet him.” She dug further into the box. “I wouldn’t mind some more fireworks, but I don’t want to scare the elephants.” She pulled out another slip of paper.

“This has all the hallmarks of The Riddler,” Damian said, “We have to be careful. He might have bombs all over the city.”

“Fireworks!” Lucy corrected again, “And, probably. See, we already have the next clue!” She waved the paper and read out “Can you hear me make a sound, only when you are around.”

“Of course you can only hear things when you’re around.” Damian said, frowning.

“But only when someone’s around does it make a...Oh!” Lucy said, jumping to her feet, “An echo! We have to go somewhere there’s an echo!”

Damian sighed, “I have an idea.”

Technically they weren’t IN the Bat cave. They were at a far entrance to it, another end of the cave system. So he wasn’t breaking any rules. “Hey, is that Wayne Manor?” Lucy asked. “I tried to break in there once, but they have some crazy rich person security system.”

“Funny that.” Damian said, trying to seem completely ordinary.

Lucy stood at the edge of the cave and yelled into it. “ECHO!” listening for the echo in return. She skipped into the cave, humming all the way, the sound bouncing off as she went.

“Lucy?” Damian said, following her, “Don’t go too far, there’s all sorts of--” He heard a squeal and rushed forward.

He stopped short, his flashlight falling on Lucy. She waved at him to put it down, squinting. “Look here!” She brushed aside some dirt to find some rusted over metal. “Isn’t it fascinating! This cave system must go on for miles! Maybe people hid treasure there!”

“It’s just the old mining system,” Damian said, truthfully. “It’s all blocked off.”

“That can’t be hard to undo,” Lucy said, intrigued by whatever lay beyond.

Damian grabbed her hand before she could continue. “We have to catch the Riddler. There has to be another package here.”

Lucy sighed, but nodded. She took his arm with the flashlight and swung him around the cave. “Ah! There.”

She took the package and skipped out of the cave. “Careful!” Damian urged. “Come on, just diffuse it.”

“Nope, not these ones.” She tossed the package high in the sky, and Damian saw the fireworks light up.

He felt his phone buzzing, no doubt Tim could hear an explosion out here, not to mention Alfred. They’d come investigating fast enough. He leaped up, grabbing the fallen slip of paper, and grabbed Lucy again to pull her along. He read it quickly and passed it to her as he made his way away. “Even in the city scape, nature comes to take its place.” Lucy read. “It must be the park!”

l,

“No,” Damian said, still pulling her, “I mean, yes, that is the answer to the riddle, but that’s not where we’re going.” He texted the police to inform them of the location of the hidden package so they could diffuse it, and dragged Lucy away.

The original Gotham Ice Cream shop was one of the oldest remaining buildings in Gotham, although was clearly closed for the night.

Damian saw a flash of green from the kitchens and rushed inside, finding none other than the Riddler standing there. “Stand down, Riddler,” Damian said, holding out his sword, “We’ve got you now!”

Riddler snarled, backing into a defensive stance. “Robin! How did you possibly find me?”

Damian smirked, “The beginning of each clue was clearly spelling out your final location. I-C-E. I didn’t need to follow 5 more clues to figure that out.”

Riddler cursed. “Those clues weren’t for you! They were for--!”

Lucy came skipping up to join Damian. “Hi, Uncle Eddy!”

“Lucille!” Riddler said, immediately warming. “I had so many sights around Gotham for you to see, why’d you go skipping to the end?”

Lucy skipped up to him, and Damian was once again left dumbfounded. “My friend Birdy here isn’t much for riddles, I think,” she said, “Although he enjoyed the elephants! And he knew about the mining carts in the caves, I want to explore those later.”

‘Uncle Eddy’ hugged Lucy, and Damian came to his senses, “THIS is your uncle?!”

Lucy shrugged, “I mean, that’s what I call him. I met him when I was visiting Aunt Harley a few years ago.”

“I heard you had moved to Gotham full time,” Riddler said, “I wanted to be sure you saw the sights. But the bat-brats have to ruin everything I suppose.” Riddler glared at him, and he glared right back.

“I don’t-” Damian started, but cut himself off, “You can’t just be leaving BOMBS around the city!”

“Fireworks!” Lucy and Riddler both corrected.

“Whatever! They’re explosive and they’re dangerous!” Damian hated having to be the safety one. It felt wrong.

Riddler rolled his eyes. “He’s just as much a barrel of laughs as the big one.”

“Aw, he’s sweet, really,” Lucy said, coming over to Damian and linking their arms. “Aunt Harley and Batman set us up on our own little playdate.”

“It is NOT!” Damian said, squirming away from her, “It is NOT a playdate.”

“Uncle Eddy, can my friend Birdy have some Ice Cream too?” Lucy asked, ignoring him.

Riddler and Damian glared again. “Fine.” He pushed his own bowl of ice cream towards Damian and went to get his own. “It’s MYSTERY flavor!”

Damian looked at it hesitantly as Lucy sat down to enjoy. Riddler went back to the kitchen. “It’s coconut,” Lucy said, “But Uncle Eddy likes to think it’s a mystery, so I let him.”

Damian frowned at her. “You’re really weird.”

“Thank you!” Lucy said, patting the seat beside her. “Come on, even you had to admit you had fun today.”

Damian thought about the elephants, and skipping around with Lucy, and watching the fireworks at the mouth of the cave, and seeing her all excited about mining carts for some reason. “Fine,” he said, “But it’s NOT a playdate.”

“Alright, alright,” Lucy said, digging into her ice cream. “Just a regular date then.”

“I--” Damian started, his head exploding with so many protests that he ended up just short circuiting. Lucy continued chowing down on ice cream like she didn’t say anything of importance. So, Damian just sat beside her, and ate his own.

[angstyaches]

This is trope anon from before :) It might be interesting to see Elliot put off feeling sick, because he is so caught up taking care of everyone else? He kind of strikes me as a worry about everyone else first kind of guy lol. Then absolutely regretting it later haha

If not Elliot, Ryan also kind of gives me similar vibes

CW: mention of disordered eating/malnourishment, trauma mention, overwork, nausea, emeto, dizziness, blood mention (he’s a vamp, so yeah), pining (for absent partner), platonic/brotherly caretaking

Author’s note: Elliott and Felix are going to be just FINE! They’re not even broken up; Felix is just a little AWOL after a fight they had. I just loooove me some angst.

Elliott’s vision went pitch black for a moment as he stood and waited for the kettle to finish boiling. His stomach lurched so harshly that he almost turned towards the sink, expecting the return of the blood he’d drank for breakfast. Instead, he swallowed, closed his eyes, and breathed in slowly through his nose. He was overexerted, probably. He’d been pushing himself during his and Shayne’s ritualistic “sparring” (or, as Shayne called it, “trying to kick the shit out of each other” or “therapy”) session. Elliott had hoped his supernatural abilities would have begun to manifest by now, seeing as his transition to full vampire was complete. But still, nothing yet. Maybe the stress of Felix being gone was stunting his development. Maybe the stress was adding to how bad he felt.

The kettle clicked, reminding him of why he was standing in the kitchen in the first place. Elliott’s heart sank as he recalled Shayne’s eyes rolling back in his head, his body almost hitting the ground before Elliott could catch him. Turned out the kid had been starving himself again. Elliott would have punched his lights out if they hadn’t already basically been out.

A minute later, Elliott picked up a hot mug and crossed the open-plan kitchen and living area to where he’d left Shayne on the white sofa. He was conscious now, at least, but his eyes were glazed and unfocused.

The mug contained hot, weak tea and a few spoons of the glucose solution Ryan had concocted for Felix’s blood-and-sugar lollipops. Back in the day, when Felix refused blood and couldn’t hold food down, Ryan had fed him the solution like this, and it had kept him from passing out. The smell was so strong that Elliott almost gagged, his body so delicate as to protest merely being in the presence of human sustenance.

Elliott tried to hand Shayne the mug, but his cousin’s hands were so shaky he almost dropped it immediately. Elliott took it back, trying to ignore the fact that his own hands weren’t exactly the steadiest. He brought the rim of the mug to Shayne’s lips.

Shayne made a face and pulled away as soon as he took the first sip. His hand went to his mouth, like he was considering spitting it back out.

“Swallow it.”

A shiver seemed to roll through Shayne’s body as he did. His eyes watered like he was about to cry. “That tastes like shit, El.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what you get for forgetting that you need to eat.”

“I didn’t forget I needed to…” Shayne mumbled. “I’m not stupid.”

“That’s extremely debatable. Drink.”

“I’m gonna be sick.”

“Drink,” Elliott said again, as calmly as he could, “or I’m going to get Ryan.”

The last of the fight went out of Shayne’s eyes. Elliott knew he didn’t want Ryan or Nancy to know things had gotten this bad again.

Victorious but not feeling it, Elliott brought the mug to Shayne’s lips again and again, letting him take small sips. At one point, he covered his mouth again, shoulders jerking forward as he gagged slightly. Elliott’s stomach flipped at the sound and he had to turn his face away until Shayne stopped. He didn’t usually puke from seeing somebody else do it, but he had a bad feeling that if Shayne threw up, he would lose it too.

Shayne shook his head when presented with the mug again. A tentative hand rested on his stomach. “I can’t, El. It’s so heavy.”

Part of Elliott didn’t want to yield so easily, wanted to make him finish the mug. He wondered what Felix would do, or how Charlie would have reacted to that pleading look. Elliott knew he wasn’t soft in the same way they were. He just hoped he wasn’t harsh.

He hoped he wasn’t frightening.

He swallowed against a swell of nausea in his belly. Whatever was gnawing at the pit of his stomach weakened his resolve.

“Okay,” he said, “lie down.”

Shayne gave a small sigh of relief.

Elliott took the mug back to the sink. White floor and wall tiles swayed all around him like he was inside the world’s most colourless kaleidoscope. He slowly breathed in through his nose, leaning on the edge of the countertop to try and introduce some form of balance to his body.

He’d extended the offer to Shayne, but honestly, lying down sounded like an absolute dream to Elliott, too. Maybe his body would stop freaking out if he got a little more rest. His sleeping pattern was completely thrown off, his mind raced in the middle of the night. Felix had star-fished across about forty different mattresses before choosing theirs, and while Elliott had acted like he didn’t care which one they bought, he had ended up agreeing that it was the best mattress he’d ever used. But sleeping there without Felix felt wrong, so his body had been rejecting it as much as physically possible.

Nowadays, he might as well have been sleeping in a wooden coffin like the stereotype dictated.

He turned around to check on Shayne, frowning when he saw that he was still sitting upright on the sofa.

“I thought you were going to try and sleep?”

“I can’t – I can’t,” Shayne whispered, lowering his head into his hands. “El, I – every time I try, I feel like she’s here. Breathing on the back of my neck…”

Guilt churned Elliott’s stomach this time. Elliott felt regrets like cobwebs sticking to his soul, and although he didn’t allow himself many, one of those cobwebs was the feeling that maybe he could have gotten Shayne out of Madelyn’s sooner.

“She’s not getting in here,” Elliott promised. “Ryan will have her head on a stick before letting that happen. Nancy will turn her blood into tar.”

“She doesn’t have to be here, El. She’s already here.” Shayne pressed a finger to either side of his head and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Jesus, I’m – I’m sorry, man.” Elliott laid a hand on his stomach, stifling a belch since he really didn’t need gas leaving his body to make this moment even more stressful. “What usually helps when this happens?”

As Elliot should have expected, Shayne gave a lifeless shrug. Alright, think, Elliott told himself, swallowing thickly. He’d never seen Shayne warm up to anyone until that day in the park when he’d been clinging to Charlie like his life depended on it. He liked to act tough (and who did he pick that up from, I wonder?), but really, Shayne just didn’t want to be alone.

He’d be lying if he said he couldn’t understand that feeling.

Elliott swallowed again, fighting the lump in his throat and the swirling in the pit of his stomach.

“Want me to sit with you?”

Shayne opened his eyes, looking genuinely surprised.

Elliott sank down on the sofa without waiting for a verbal answer. He hit the cushions a little too quickly for his stomach’s liking. It shifted noisily, semi-digested contents swimming around inside. “Now, if you think you can feel someone breathing on you, you can tell yourself it’s just me.”

“Ugh,” Shayne groaned, curling up on his side so that the top of his head was just next to – scarcely touching – Elliott’s thigh. “Do not breathe on me, man.”

Elliott smiled through his vaguely-concealed discomfort, glad that Shayne wasn’t facing him. “Afraid you’ll catch vampire cooties?”

Shayne didn’t respond beyond a soft groan that Elliott interpreted as “shut the fuck up, old man”. So even though he’d have loved to keep taunting his cousin and keep himself distracted, Elliott shut up, letting his neck rest against the back of the sofa and draping one arm up over his eyes. Lack of vision made the world feel a little less like the spinning drum of a washing machine. Elliott regretted dreaming up that metaphor, gritting his teeth as he realised his stomach felt like such a drum, too.

He was swallowing constantly, every few seconds now, chest tight with the effort of drawing slow, shallow breaths. It felt like the fibres holding his being together were frayed and left just shaky enough to throw everything off without causing him any actual, physical pain. Beneath it all was a tiny flame of anger; what the hell was the point in becoming a vampire if feeling unexplainably shitty at inconvenient intervals was still on the table?

An icy shiver ran down Elliott’s back, and he flinched where he sat. He slid his hand around the back of his neck and gulped another wave of saliva. Nothing was there, yet when he exhaled, he shuddered again. Shayne’s talk about Madelyn must have wormed its way into Elliott’s mind. Lord, he really was a mess.

He glanced down to make sure his sudden jump hadn’t disturbed Shayne. It was hard to tell if the boy was sleeping or just trying very hard to stay still. At least he didn’t seem to be panicked or shaking anymore. Elliott desperately wanted to stand up and walk around; moving and distracting himself would surely ease the building pain in his stomach, but he didn’t think he could get up without jostling Shayne.

Sucking in a breath and trying to brace his stomach for the move, Elliott shifted his weight on the sofa, cringing at how much the cushions flexed with him. He watched Shayne’s head, his breath still caught somewhere between his belly and his lungs. Another trickle of unpleasantly cool sweat ran down the back of his neck and his hands shook until he dropped the weight of his head into them. His elbows felt unbalanced on his knees. His stomach flipped, and he swallowed measuredly against its protests.

“El?”

“Yeah,” Elliott choked out, though he’d meant to give a friendly, open yeah? As in Felix’s chirpy Yeah, buddy? Are you okay? What can I do for you?

“Y’alright?” was all Shayne replied with.

“I’m good, yeah.” Upon tasting blood and bile, Elliott gulped again. “Just relax, okay? No one’s going to –”

Elliott jammed a fist against his lips in time to stifle a wet, shallow belch. The sound was so sudden and violent that his head shot forward, almost ducking between his own knees.

“Fuck,” Shayne gasped, scrambling upright despite the fact his eyes were barely open. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Elliott half-snapped, annoyance at himself manifesting as annoyance at Shayne. “I may have pushed myself a bit this morning, but I’m –”

He was once again cut off by a belch, this one rumbling up from much deeper inside him. His belly continued bubbling even after the air stopped being pushed up.

“El, I think you need to –”

“Don’t.” Elliott shook his head.

“Why did –” Shayne winced slightly and rubbed at his head. “Why didn’t you say you were feeling sick?”

“Because I was trying to look after you!” Elliott sighed into his hands. The tiny burst of frustration was dizzying on top of everything else. “Lord fucking knows you can’t take care of yourself.”

“Fuck you,” Shayne said back, though his voice was empty of any of its usual fight. “I’m – I’m trying, I’ve been trying… Elliott, just go to the sink!”

Elliott’s shoulders rolled as he covered his mouth with his palm, feeling a thick film grow over his tongue. He was tempted to swallow it down again but a cramp ripped through his gut, making all of his organs squeeze in defiance of him swallowing anything.

“Shit,” he somehow mumbled, sitting forward and pushing himself to his feet as Shayne pushed – weakly but with good intentions – at his back to help him up. Elliott sprinted across the kitchen tiles and flung himself at the sink, stars in his vision and blood in his mouth. He was unbearably dizzy as he heaved up what he’d drank that morning. At least it had been an animal-blood day, and he wasn’t watching mouthfuls of human blood pooling in the sink and trickling into the drain.

It was a waste, but it could have been worse. He choked on a sob, realising he’d never thought like this until Felix.

“Fuck,” Elliott gasped when something moved next to him. He hadn’t even noticed Shayne following him to the sink. “Christ. I feel awful… Why – why do I feel this bad?”

“You’re trying to force something you’re not capable of.” Shayne folded his arms and rested them on the countertop, eyes falling shut again.

Elliott spat bitterly towards the drain. “How the fuck do you figure that?”

“Because that’s my whole life summed up, El.”

Elliott gripped the neck of the tap and turned it on, directing the water around the sink to get rid of the mess he’d made. His head was spinning and his nerves still felt alive with electricity and just wrong in general, but his belly felt a lot better. He felt like he could breathe normally again.

“You okay?”

“I think so.” Elliott rinsed his mouth, running tap water into his palm and lifting it to his lips. It was cool, and soothing on his throat after the retching.

Shayne looked positively miserable as their eyes met. “What now?”

As he shut off the tap, Elliott brushed a wet hand across the back of his own neck, relishing the cold drip that started trailing down his back. He shut his eyes, feeling like he was ready to drift off to sleep on his feet, like a horse.

“Well,” he said, “how would you like to take a nap on a really nice mattress?”

[fencesandfrogs]

hi my name is matthew and i have some thoughts about haes

okay disclaimers: i’m a little jumpy around the subject so while i don’t feel i’m being unnecessarily harsh/unfair, if ur firm on haes w no yielding, and you don’t want to argue about it? either skip this or don’t respond. i don’t really care. but i’m putting the body under a read more.

[3k words, 10 minute read. sections headers, some text italicized for emphasis/some readibility. no images/videos, a few links.]

second disclaimer: i’m not planning on going heavy on sources. i will happily provide sources to people who want them, and i haven’t written the actual post yet but it’s unlike me not to cite anything, but doing an in depth well researched and sourced post on this type of subject is not something i’m up for right now.

like i said, i’m jumpy around this subject. and on the off chance someone decides this post is Bad and i must be banished to the Bad Blogs Bin, i’d rather not put a lot of work into it.

third disclaimer: i’m not particularly interested in reading X study that says actually no people who way 700 pounds are healthy and people who weigh less than 200 are going to die early deaths. i know that’s a straw man i needed to a) get it out of the way now and b) i just am tired all the time and don’t have a ton of itme for it. that said, if you do send one to me, i will probably read it at some point, and i may or may not provide my thoughts.

right then. moving on.

with no more waffling, my thesis is as follows: weight stigma is bad, however obesity is killing people and i really would like people to stop pretending it doesn’t.

i. really hate that that’s a controversial opinion. i mean i hold a decent number of somewhat controversial opinions, most of which i keep to myself because i’m a firm believer that what i think about something should not interfere with how other people live their lives. as a noncontroversial example, i think mormons are in a cult. children, being minors, being indoctrinated is a problem, one i myself am not dedicated to solving because i have other issues but as far as adults involved, that’s their business.

(*please note that i’m not expanding on my thoughts because this post is about haes but i do have a more complicated opinion i’m just trying to demonstrate something please don’t at me about cults i know that they’re bad and adults in them also need help getting out that’s not the point of this post & i’m anxious enough so like, please.)

anyway so. obesity. is bad. it is bad for your health. if you are obese, you are not healthy. that said, i am not going to tell you to lose weight. no one should tell you to lose weight except for your doctor and maybe your immediate family, and that should be from a place of “you are not living your best life and i care about you.” i, an internet stranger, along with pretty much everyone you know, does not get to tell you about how terrible your life is and what a horrible person you are for existing, because you are not a bad person for being overweight. you do not deserve discrimination or mistreatment. even if you’re not actively trying to lose weight. it doesn’t matter. you are a human being like any other and i will fight like hell for you.

i’m not planning on going heavy into eating disorders because a) that’s a triggering topic for me and b) it’s going to muddle the point i’m getting, but since it is a large part of the arguments re. haes, it’s certainly going to come up, so i’d like to list the officially recognized eating disorders.

Anorexia Nervosa (AN)

Bulimia Nervosa (BN)

Binge Eating Disorder (BED)

Other Specified Feeding and Eating Disorder (OSFED)

Pica

Rumination Disorder

Avoidant/Restrictive Food Intake Disorder (ARFID)

Unspecified Feeding or Eating Disorder (UFED)

Other (aka “we are considering making this its own category but for matthew’s purposes it fits into AFRID or UFED well enough because the details aren’t important”)

so yeah. we’ll circle back to this.

section one: haes

haes initially stood for heatlh at every size. that doesn’t really matter anymore because people say healthy at every size now, however, the distinction is important. because.

okay. when i say being obese makes you inherently unhealthy, i am not saying you are having health problems for being overweight. i am saying you have a chronic illness. i have asthma. that makes me inherently unhealthy. i don’t necessarily have an health problems because i am asthmatic, but i have a chronic illness and it certainly would, say, make me more likely to die from covid. that is a fact. saying healthy at every lung functionality would not change that.

but you know, i can still be active and like smell plants and interact in the world like anyone else. i just try to keep my inhaler near by.

so similarly, if you are overweight/obese (i’ve been saying only obese because its less letters so i’m sticking with that), you can, like, live ur best life and take care of your health. you can feel good about your body and eat good food and move and again, i really don’t want anyone reading this to feel that i think everyone who’s obese needs to lose that weight because adults can do whatever they want.

what i’m angry about is that a good thing (encouraging people to make good choices no matter what so they can feel good in their bodies) got turned into a bad thing (telling people they don’t need to change what they’re doing because they’re perfectly healthy).

section two: but what about...?

see my third disclaimer. but as a fast rundown of things i probably won’t talk about in detail later:

the obesity paradox is a specific thing about a specific type of illness in the elderly. it’s also not about obesity, it’s about being slightly overweight. it’s a complicated thing, but it’s not true most of the time

sumo wrestlers have major health problems as soon as they stop exercising like crazy.

did you know there are countries where girls are force fed to become overweight? diet culture goes both ways

if you want to say healthy at every size, you have to mean that every. that means you are not allowed to say shit about underweight people. i’m sorry, is someone you care about wasting away? are they 5′10 and weigh  90 pounds and their hair is falling out because they aren’t eating? i’m sorry, you said people are healthy at every size. you can’t make fun of skinny people. you have to suck it up because you can’t have your cake and eat it too.

section three: self care

a hypothetical that is blindingly obvious to where i’m going: if a small child wants to play with a knife, are you caring for them by giving into it? what if they want to drink some vodka? what if they want to run away from home to live with a stranger in a white van?

i really really hope all those answers are “no, you’re neglecting that child, and also possibly actively harming it.”

so my point is pretty obvious: giving yourself something because you want it does not mean you are caring for yourself.

you know what i want  to do all the time? sleep and rewatch twilight every day. but that makes me feel worse. so even though it’s terrible and i hate it, i have to take care of myself (because there is only one of me that i ever get) and go outside and talk to people and eat something that isn’t popcorn because you need protein to live.

(sorry i tried to keep nutrition out of that but i have to actively seek out sufficient salt and protein due to my campus doing a lot of low sodium food, which is bad when u actually need to eat a good amount of salt to keep ur body working, and also i’m vegetarian. so i’m constantly making myself seek it out.)

that doesn’t mean self care is always supposed to be work, but i mean. i’ve always not really gotten into it. i think because i’m hella depressed and i’ve been depressed long enough i can recognize it as this separate entity when it comes to a lot of the mental stuff. like, why do i feel like everything is meaningless? that’s just the depression.

but i digress, this isn’t about me. [proceeds to talk about me again]

one phrase i like a lot for myself is “bad food makes me feel bad.” now, i’m not a fan of putting moral judgements to food. but this works for me, personally. sure, eating a bunch of ice cream right now is good, but it’s going to suck when my stomach flips the fuck out because of all the sugar. and so it seems quite obvious to me that eating that ice cream is not, in fact, caring for my body.

and i think we’d collectively be a bit better served if we could learn to distinguish between self-care and self-kindness. ask anyone who does caregiving (childcare, nurses, etc): it is hard, often thankless (at least for children they’re devils who don’t realize that their toys will get wrecked if they don’t pick them up) work. you care for them not by doing what they want, but what is best for them.

section four: diet culture

as i’ve already played my hand up above with underweight vs haes, i think it’s kind of obvious that i have strong feelings about underweight not being healthy also. so i just want to take stock of what is and isn’t diet culture, and what i think about it. this is probably the most subjective part of this essay.

things i think are diet culture

people trying ridiculous diets. obviously diet culture in the purest sense. it’s real dumb. you need all the food groups to live. sometimes it’s okay, like cutting out sugar, but i’d say its a net negative

not trying to do lifestyle changes. that’s the sustainable way to lose weight. so. yeah.

weight cycling. actually still up for debate if this is bad. this paper says no, along with a lot of others, but i’m not sitting down and reading through all of them, and all of the ones that say its bad, to offer my opinion. i’m leaning towards “it’s better than nothing,” but we’ll see

a lot of other stuff i’m doing this off the top of my head and trying to avoid issues w eating disorders so.

things i think aren’t diet culture

women being pressured to look a certain way. that’s been going on for a long time. being skinny used to be bad. it’s a fact of the patriarchy.

most things? idk i have this impression that like, anyone exercising or eating healthy is a part of diet culture, when in reality, people just have different lifestyles. (also, again, if you’re going with haes, as in HealthyAES (hyaes?) you can’t call it unhealthy or you’re not respecting that damn E)

in conclusion: diet culture has issues, but the correct response to them is not “fuck you, i’m eating fourteen pounds of sugar.” eat fourteen pounds of sugar because you want to. (also it should be fat because if you really want to stick it to the man you should be eating fat, big sugar is responsible for a huge amount of todays dietary problems, both on the under/overweight side)

section five: discrimination

yeah no fuck people who discriminate about fat people. that’s all i’m just moving along to a transition since i was drifting away from my point about health.

section six: weight stigma

...is not responsible for your health issues. being obese is. accept the consequences of your lifestyle.

well. okay. that’s a little unfair. accept the consequences of not treating your chronic illness. and i feel i’ve probably lost people for calling obesity an illness but that’s the whole point of my post.

just like carrying externally heavy objects hurts your joints, so does carrying a lot of weight inside. fat does not cushion your organs, it kills them. getting rid of weight stigma will not make these issues go away.

the treatment for obesity is eating the number of calories you need to sustain a healthy weight at your current exercise levels. (*please consult with your doctor this is more complicated when you have to lose a lot of weight.)

section seven: cico. or, why your metabolism is fine

your body does not break the laws of thermodynamics. it cannot magically create more energy out of a given amount of calories.

there are issues with calorie counting, yes. i think it’s usually done in an unsustainable way that isn’t teaching people to make decisions, just to do math. it can be hard to get an accurate count.

but you are not a miracle of science. you have not discovered how to create and destroy energy. i’m sorry to be the one to break if to you.

if you don’t believe me, if you’re really sure your metabolism is different, go on and get it tested. tell your doctors. because it’s a major problem if it’s not working right.

similarly, i’m sorry, but if someone is the same height as you and a (very, like, +- 50 pounds) different weight, and neither of you have exisitng health conditions, you are not eating the same things/doing the same exercise. you have not broken the laws of physics.

possibly, one of you have untreated celiacs or something of the ilk meaning your body is actually malfunctioning. but if that’s true, i excluded you already, so shoo. get out of here and play in the sun with the other kids.

if you don’t believe this, there’s not much i can do to convince you. but i encourage you to count your calories for a month. find some tdee calculators. weigh yourself. make sure you count everything, it all goes down. check the math. (you can do any amount of time but a month is what you need for weight to be meaningful imo otherwise you’re just proving weight fluctuates a lot).

section eight: cico. or, why counting calories is not disordered eating

it can sure be a symptom of disordered eating, and it can certainly make disordered eating worse, but it isn’t an eating disorder.

also, assuming you’re not trying to verify the laws of thermodynamics, i don’t think counting every calorie is necessary. i have approximate values (500/meal, and around 300 in snacks), which i try not to go over or under.

yeah. i actually use calorie counting to make sure i’m eating enough in one sitting. some of my medication screws with my apetite and then i only eat like 300 calories and suddenly its like 11 and i need to go to bed but i’m hungry but eating before bed makes me feel terrible and it sucks.

but hey, according to some people, avoiding that is unhealthy.

okay i’m moving on before i get salty because the next section is touchy

section nine: eating disorders.

the three main eating disorders are listed way up there. they’re the first three. AN, BN, BED.

oh, yeah, binge eating? that’s actually disordered eating too. it’s not normal.

i’m not going to elaborate on the point because i absolutely know i can’t do it without getting really fucking angry that people call calorie counting disordered eating, like i haven’t watched a fifth grader eat one meal a day because she’s scared she’s overweight. like i haven’t watched a sixth grader cram food into his mouth until he’s sick because he’s worried he’s not bulky enough for sports. like i haven’t watched an eleventh grader tell me he hasn’t eaten anything since lunch yesterday, but it’s fine, he doesn’t want his mac and cheese anyway, since he needs to lose weight.

you think someone keeping track of some numbers is an eating disorder? then either you’re lucky enough to never have to deal with eating disorders on a personal level, and i’m very happy for you, or you have, and you should maybe reevaluate that.

alright i’m cutting myself off now whoop.

section ten: intuitive eating

you know, much like haes, i want to like this. it fits in with my bad-food-makes-me-feel-bad mentality. i’m angry and tired and hungry because i ate like, a late breakfast/early lunch and now i need to eat again because if i don’t eat every six to eight hours i have a medical condition that makes me feel like shit (an aside: unless you’ve been told by a doctor, you don’t need to eat every 2-3 hours. unless you’re a child or have an applicable medical condition, you can probably eat one meal a day and be firne.)

but much like haes, it now has a meaning i can’t in good consience endorse. i can’t stand for a movement that tells people who acknowledge weight makes their joints hurt that they just need to keep eating until they feel better.

section eleven: conclusion

i have a lot more thoughts but again i’m hungry. i meant to talk more about IE and my problems with it but maybe that will be its own post.

i won’t say i’m happy to talk about this because i can’t promise i am (see: eating disorder issues.), but i will most likely respond to constructive discussion if someone sees this and wants to. i can also provide sources. i hate going, “sources available on request” but i tried to provide some stuff for some of the heavily disputed/i already had a source for it and didn’t have to dig through google scholar to find information that’s been peer reviewed.

and i do sincerely wish everyone, at any size, that they fracture the disconnect between them and their bodies (oop didn’t talk about that either another time then) & that they find peace with who they are, and that they get to live happy & fulfilling lives.

[magiefish]

hhhhhhhhhh guess who drew all the batim characters in prep for the comic they’re making!

yeah so it took like 4 days to draw all these guys, and it was actually pretty fun figuring out colours and designs and stuff!

(also, update on the Reveries Twisted comic, I have a plan for the first chapter but i have like, 7 tests next week and I haven’t started drawing it yet so it’s definitely not going to be coming out anytime soon sdfgsdfsj but i am still working on it!)

anyway, i felt like writing little descriptions for every character, so feel free to read these below the ‘keep reading’ line if you feel like it! My ask box is also always open, so if u have any questions feel free to ask

Bertrum Piedmont-he/him, gay/ace

-Started working as a mechanic at about 15 and worked his way up from there -Everyone in the studio @ him: why are u british -His big ego often gets in the way of things, but at his core he's a good person (doing bad shit but ultimately having good intentions is common among these guys shdgfs) -Wlw & mlm solidarity w/ Lacie, who is his most trusted confidant and friend -Actually treats his employees well, even when they do basically nothing all day, so he does a lot of work himself most of the time Linda Stein-she/her, straight as a ruler -Parents immigrated from Spain -She's very catholic and very into 'traditional family values' and that sort of stuff -She is sweet, but her strict morals and black and white ethics often make her do unintentional harm -She is also pretty oblivious to most things Jack Fain-he/him & they/them, pan/ace, OCD -Mother immigrated from China to France, and then he moved to America, it's confusing -Can play the violin really well, but is terrible at composing his own pieces -Peak friend material -Short and round and soft with a love of a good espresso -Kind and quiet but ultimately ineffective and happy to watch from the sidelines Daniel 'Buddy' Lewek-he/him, aro/ace, autistic, jewish -He is curious and observant, but very very naive -He finds it hard to pick up on social cues, and tends to daydream a lot -Never really had a father figure, and unfortunately kind of half sees Joey as one (baaaad choice), but his mother is great -Loves drawing and tends to chew on pens (and most objects really) -Too young Susie Campbell-she/her, demi -Her parents were Russian and she picked up their accent, but taught herself how to cover it up. She is now excellent at voice acting. -Has a birthmark most theatres turned her away for. But luckily voice acting gave her another chance at performance, and the music department really does not care about it. -Her dad was a butcher, so she now knows a concerning amount about how to cut up and dissect meat. -She gets easily attached to things emotionally, and has a whole pile of random bits and bops she keeps on her person because she can't throw them away. -Naive, but smart enough to know how to read and deceive people if needed. Ms Abigail Lambert-she/her, lesbian -A very gifted artist, who is quite frustrated with the business aspect of animation. -Picked up quite a few things about engineering from Lacie. -Stern, but kind. Motherly, if she likes you and you squint hard enough. -Used to fighting for things. -Giving her food is a pretty good way to get her to like you. Being an artist, she forgets to eat at the correct times a lot, so a meals always appreciated. Norman Polk-he/him, gay, albino -Knows how to fix things, knows how to fight, knows how to hide -General cool uncle vibes -He watches people a lot, and gives off some creepy vibes, but he does genuinely care about people -Knows something is up and is determined to find out what (even if he dies trying) -Fought in WW1, then worked at a cinema for a bit. Emma Lamont-she/her, heteroflexible -Keep dancing even when everything goes wrong -Bit of a 'i'm better than these fools' mentality going on -But she's pretty chill, and willing to act when needed -Basically every woman in the studio knows her on the basis that she chills in the girls bathroom. -Hates Joey, but knows those who stir up a bit too much trouble usually 'resign' Sammy Lawrence-he/him, (vocal-romantic) bi/ace, ADD -His dad sucked, so he ran away. He's also the reason he's largely abandoned his faith, but he still holds hope that there is some kind of god out there. -He and Jack are basically brothers, they've known each other for a long time. -He can compose music in his head, but can play basically every instrument. -Tall and thin and sharp with a love of black coffee. -He's actually pretty chill and nice, but the conditions of the studio (workload, noises, dreams) have left him quick to snap and a stressed out mess. -He's pretty oblivious to his own feelings and spends basically all his time thinking about music, so he usually only realises that he has a crush on someone if he hears them singing (hence the vocal-romantic joke) Johnny Hart-he/him (she/her), gay (trans), heart condition -A nervous wreck who avoids everything and everyone -Trans but doesn't realise it, he thinks this level of discomfort has something to do with his heart condition or something like that. -Speaking of which, if he gets genuinely terrified or panicked he could have a heart attack. -Hence why he's a recluse who remains in the organ room and interacts w/ literally no one. -Except Dot and Buddy (who forgets he exists and who he also has a crush on). Wally Franks-he/him, pan -Friends with literally everyone who isn't one of the older folks (and thomas) -Honorary member of the music department because he can play a harmonica and vibes with everyone there. -Tries to put a positive spin on everything, often beyond the point of reason -A mischevous, mildly selfish prankster with a heart of gold -Gossip pals with Susie and Norman The Violinist-she/her, nobody knows -Has literally never expressed an emotion ever -Seems to know things are going to happen before they happen -Just generally pretty weird -She isn't friends with Dot, they're both just vaguely interested in what the others doing -She looks a lot like Allison, but the two have never spoken and nobody knows if they're sisters Thomas Connor-they/them, gynephilia -He is just. So tired. -An actual mechanical genius who gets his work used for the wrong purposes. -Is very of the 'when you're on a path stick to it' mentality -Cold and hard exterior that vertually no one except Allison has ever managed to get through. -He can and will beat you up. Henry Stein-he/him, gay, vitiligo -Nice and hardworking. -Doesn't have many emotions other than to draw. -He's in fucking narnia he's so deep in the closest. -Feels emotions, but buries them deep down and doesn't express them too clearly. -Has difficulty setting healthy boundaries with people and represses himself far too much. Joey Drew-he/him, homoromantic/pansexual, bipolar disorder, alcohol and cigarette addictions -Chaotic, feral, short little man who lies to everyone -Charismatic as hell, but also a terrible friend and person in general -He doesn't blink enough, does not know the meaning of personal space, and hasn't aged for about 4 years, which are all very bad signs. -Doesn't understand how to run a business but does so anyway. Doesn't understand how to interact with people but does so anyway. Doesn't understand how to create life but does so anyway- -He isn't pure evil, he just gets into very bad mindsets and makes poor decisions that lead him down the wrongest way to go. -Does some self evaluation and goes 'maybe this wasn't the right way chief :/' just a bit too late Audrey Dempsey-she/her, lesbian, Borderline Personality Disorder -Feral conspiracy theorist -May or may not be related to multiple studio members -Everyone's called her crazy for years and made her feel like a burden, and she is hellbent on proving everyone wrong -Quite socially awkward, and rather sarcastic with a dark sense of humour -Works for Archgate Allison Pendle-she/her & they/them, androphilic/ace -Is forever lost in a vintage clothing store -Most people say she seems nice, but everyone just kind of subconciously registers that there is something up with her -Knows a lot about the supernatural -The person closest to Joey, which doesn't necessarily mean they're friends -Nobody has ever seen the right side of her face Dot Acciaci-she/her, pan -Her parents are Italian, and she speaks a little herself, usually using it to encrypt her private notes -Mischevious & curious, but ultimately kind -She will find out your secrets, and is very good at reading people -Great storyteller -Struggles with loneliness a lot Dr Eleanor Hackenbush-she/her, aro/ace -Science knows no bounds -Doesn't care what your motivation is, as long as you give her some cash and some experiments -Filled with nothing but utter spite Ms Reina Rodriguez-they/them, demi -Tired of everything -Although she puts up a calm exterior, Rodriguez is very attached to the studio and views it as her 'new family', having a terrible relationship with her old one -Her family drama connects to the fact they're very catholic, but she nobody knows what this drama is other than Joey Tessa Arch-she/her, straight -An absolute bitch -Trusts her husband far too much -Not very smart, but compensates for this for being good looking and rich Shawn Flynn-he/him (intersex), pan -Jovial, but gets angry quickly -Willing to do 'wrong' things if it helps someone else out, kind of like Robin Hood or something -His mother taught him how to sew and he helped her make clothes when he was younger -Found it hard to get a job because he's Irish, so despite being tired of all the bullshit of JDS, he is reluctant to look elsewhere -Friends with Lacie and Grant because they appreciate his humour Lacie Benton-She/her, lesbian, trans -Tougher than the toughies -wlw & mlm solidarity w/ Bertrum, who she views as one of the only genuinely smart people in JDS and who she has worked for for basically all of her life -Feels like something is up, but doesn't notice much if it doesn't connect to her work -Has automatophobia -Friend with Shawn and Grant because she respects their dedication to their work Grant Cohen-He/him, bi, depression, jewish -Absolute madlad at maths -Acts like he doesn't care what you think, cares far too much about what you think -Everyone wants him to just get therapy already -Doesn't have many friends, but has a weird 'we're both horribly overworked' kinship with Sammy, so they usually just chill and smoke together -Friends with Shawn and Lacie because they're actually mentally stable and he needs some rocks Nathan Arch-He/him, straight -You should hate him -You should hate him a lot -Super rich and doesn't pay his workers enough -Silver tongued -Basically a spider. Creates webs of manipulation and lies, sees a lot, and knows plenty about waiting for his prey to come to him.

[paramedictk-archive]

it’s hard to put into words how much skam france has disappointed me this year but s6 is finally over and i felt like i needed to kind of... say goodbye to this shitshow and get a few things off my chest.

s3 will always hold a special place in my heart, it came into my life when i really needed it and honestly, it was their only genuinely good season from start to finish. i will always be grateful for s3 and for eliott and lucas and for all those little moments we got to see with the grew in that season as well as in s4 and s5, when they actually acted like teenagers, when they were there for each other, when actions had consequences, when subplots weren’t abandoned just after 2 clips and when they used this show to educate teenagers and give them hope... those very few moments that actually made me feel like i was watching a skam remake.

it’s hard to make peace with the fact that this remake gave us so many good moments but also managed to completely ruin this entire experience for most of us this year. i think if skam france was genuinely, consistently trash from s1 to s6 i wouldn’t be half as angry as i am right now. but truth is, it wasn’t all bad. that’s the worst thing. we’ve seen they can do better, they just chose to be lazy and use the popularity s3 gave them to churn out mediocre and half assed plots time and time again because they knew they had devoted fans who would defend them no matter what.

when s3 was airing i actually felt like they listened to us sometimes and cared about us but something changed after s4. it no longer mattered what we wanted to see or what we thought about a scene, we were simply told what we should be feeling. and that’s a huge red flag. i don’t have to be a scriptwriter or a director to know that good storytelling isn’t about throwing excuses and explanations (and then damage control pictures) at your audience. it’s about them engaging with the content you put out and bringing their own perspective to it. otherwise, what’s the point?

and you know, this isn’t even about what’s ooc and what isn’t. it’s about the people who were supposed to finally get their representation but instead ended up being too triggered by the show to continue watching it. it’s about muslim, deaf/hoh people, people dealing with addictions or self harm or eating disorders speaking out only to be silenced by david and his fans just because their opinions weren’t always supportive and positive. it’s about us saying that they should have never used sexual or domestic abuse for shock value and then being told to shut up because a few pacifists in this fandom seem to think we’re ruining the show for them this way. it’s about david and niels flat out lying to us and promising so many things in order to get us to watch s6. it’s about being disrespected by the creators of your favourite tv show so badly that you end up having to distance yourself from it and the fandom. you obviously can’t please everyone, but the least you can do is listen to the people whose stories you’re trying to tell.

i obviously can’t tell any of this to david even though i wish i could. not because i want to rub it in or prove that i’m right, i just simply want him to know how much his childishness hurt the very people who once fought so hard to get his show renewed for him. i can’t tell him any of this because he would never read my messages since i’m not one of his certified bootlickers singing his praises all the time. because he blocked one of my insta accounts last week for a comment i posted under one of his pictures during s5. because that’s the kind of person he is. someone who would rather hide and ignore constructive criticism and let his little fans fight his battles for him. someone who stayed quiet for weeks while said fans kept sending death threats to people. and yes, you could say he’s not responsible for other people’s actions and that’s true in a way. but when you create such an unhealthy and hostile environment within your own fandom by playing favourites and silencing anyone who has a different opinion than what is considered acceptable, you do encourage that kind of behaviour.

despite all this, i still stayed and tried to put up with all the bad writing because i cared about the grew that much, maybe even more than niels himself, it seems. i don’t have a reason to stay now. the concept of having female showrunners sounds good, sure, but i know francestvslash and i know skam france. it’s the good old bait-and-switch. during the last two seasons, they kept baiting marginalized communities to earn woke points but a season that was supposed to be about arthur’s deafness entirely got turned into some cheating fest and lola’s season was pure misery porn with wlw rep thrown in there as bait. 

david and niels leaving won’t solve this problem. francetvslash needs a reality check too. they used us to renew the show and then turned around and called us obsessive. they blocked my comments under the live because i asked them why wasn’t the sexual assault plot mentioned again. they joked about addictions. they don’t care, okay? not about us, not about giving people representation. the only thing they care about is money. so them suddenly hiring female directors and writers after they saw us complaining about the way this show treats women? bait. the same kind of bait niels and david used when they tried to throw all kinds of rep in s6 because they knew lgbt people want to see themselves represented so badly that they would watch it no matter what. i would love to be proven wrong, obviously. i want to believe the new showrunners have nothing but good intentions but their hands will obviously be tied by francetvslash to some extent. and i’m done being used by them and then being forced to settle for the bare minimum.

all in all, both s5 and s6 fell flat and were extremely disappointing. skamfr under david and niels will always remain a one hit wonder, nothing else. it’s a good thing they are leaving now because at least characters like max or sekou have the chance to be treated with respect by the new writers and directors. and i’m happy for all of you who decided to stay... i wish you guys the best. i honestly hope you guys will get the stories and the representation you’re looking for. i really do. i want to be proven wrong about francetvslash and the showrunners... but i don’t have the energy to dedicate so much of my life to this show again, not after them breaking my heart so many times. 

and i guess i’m a petty person. the grew deserved great stories too, not just lamif. arthur deserved a great season, deaf/hoh people deserved to see themselves represented, instead they were forced to watch niels disrespect noée and camille and then act like they never existed in s6. and after everything wlw have done for this show, we deserved a great season too, not to be baited like this. maya was in 18 clips out of 83 (!!!!). if niels and david didn’t want to give the grew a chance to have a good send-off, then i’m not giving this show a chance again. why would i?

anyway. i’ll stick to rewatching s3 every now and again. and i will miss the way the grew made me feel. thanks for all the good memories and let’s hope we’ll forget the bad ones soon. this is what we’ve come to.

alt er love and all that crap i guess.

[ribcage-rodents]

How Iris first had an inkling that Wally had a crush on Dick. Ok so like, bc Star and Gotham are absolutely horrifying during Halloween, Barry is like “I’ll patrol then Iris will take the babies trick or teating”

Originally Wally is really upset bc he wants to go patrolling w his uncle but once he finds out that he gets to hang out w the other hero’s he’s psyched.

So Wally is like 12-13 and dresses up as the flash naturally. Roy is like 14-15 and he’s totally too old for Halloween and over it bc he’s super angsty, and dresses up as like Jason form Friday the thirteenth or some shit bc Black Canary forces him to. Robin only ever celebrated Halloween during his circus days when everyone would paint their face scary and flying Graysons would do aerial ballet show w black fabric so it was like spiders but after that it was just horrifying.

Anyway so Barry picked up this tiny Batman costume and Iris was like “Barry hon, isn’t he like 10? Shouldn’t you get him a bigger outfit?” (He two years younger than Wally, and four younger than Roy) And Barry is like “no trust me babe he teeny”.

Batman shows up to their house followed by a tinsity winsty baby tiny Batman bc Barry ran it over b/f patrol. And wow is that cute. Tiny baby Batman is basically glued to Batman’s side, his teeny little head coming up to Batman’s lower thigh, last time Iris checked 10-year olds aren’t supposed to be that tiny but wow is it adorable. (I’m sorry I just love teeny baby Dickie& giant looming built-like-a-tank batdaddy)

Barry told her what Batman had already explained. That Robin is foreign and doesn’t really know a lot of holiday stuff and also has been severely traumatized the past couple of years and doesn’t really like strangers and knows better than to take anything from strangers.

So it’s obvious that Robin would rather be tied up and drugged w fear gas than in a family aquatintence’s home about to go trick or treating. And Iris is a little resentful of the other boys, hard as she try to be understanding, bc Wally looks so disappointed bc he just wants to have friends and these guys don’t want to have fun.

Anyway Roy is kinda warming up to the whole trick or treating thing but sometimes he can be really mean to Wally but maybe Iris is just overprotective of her boy. Iris takes several pictures during the entire night despite both Batmans being adamant about no photos.

Robin refuses to go up to any house but Iris doesn’t comment on it. She doesn’t want to alienate him, so she doesn’t say anything. She goes up and grabs him a peice of candy but he disappears into the night. She panics for a good couple of seconds but calms when tiny Batman shows up next to Wally and Roy.

She doesn’t try again after that. He likes to walk at the back of the group and every time Iris tries to keep an eye on him, bc he may be a trained hero but central isn’t as safe as smallsville and her parental instincts are going off. Every couple of blocks Wally will try to walk next to him and talk and it’ll work for a while then Robin will slow down and fall behind and Wally’s angelic little baby face gets so sad.

As their trip comes to an end Iris can see Robin wrapping the cape around him tightly w his eyes screwed shut and it breaks her heart a little bc this poor boy must be so uncomfortable and scared that he’s trying to imitate the feeling of his mentors hug. It’s a jarring to imagine Batman hugging anything but she supposes that a baby as cute as that must make even the dark knight just wanna squeeze his sweet rosy, chubby cheeks. She reaches out to place a hand on his head, bc he’s too short to comfortably put a hand on his shoulder.

He jerks back immediately and death glares her, his anger showing full force through the white eyelets. She sent him an apologetic smile and he seemed to unbistle a smidgen.

Once they were finally home Iris watched them from behind the kitchen counter. Wally and Roy were digging into the candy while Robin perched on top of the couch. He kept scratching at his arm, Barry said that it was fine as long as it was controlled. Apparently the poor baby had a pretty serious anxiety disorder and tended to scratch to make himself feel better, it was ok as long as he didn’t have an attack.

She tossed him the single candy across the room, he caught it swiftly in his tiny baby hand. (So cute) Wally shot up to his feet. “That’s not one of my candies right?” Iris smiled, her prefect gluttonous boy. “Nope it’s from your uncles,” it was lie but it didn’t harm anyone. “That’s my backup candy!” Wally cried racing towards the door and snatching up handfuls of candy from the trick or treater bowl. Iris pretend to scold him for being stingy.

Robin slowly unwrapped the candy then examined it breaking off a piece and finally eating the snickers. His eyelets widened comically and he chewed slowly staring down at the candy before shoving the entire (not that fun size is really that big) thing in his mouth. It was absolutely adorable! She wished she had take a video and wondered if this was his first ever candy. (Dick usually just ate cotton candy as a kid, he hadn’t discover cereal yet. But since his parents died he hasn’t had real sugar, Alfred has strict hold on anything sweet in the house and Robin was deemed too energetic already.)

Apparently Wally agreed bc his mouth was wide open and his face was a blotchy-red color. His eyes were filled w what Iris could only discribe as adoration.

Wally swallowed then stood up again. His arms filled w sweets. “Here you can have my candy!” Wally all but shouted at the other boy, he paused for a second looking at his arms, “or we could share,” he suggested instead.

That’s what got Iris, even before his flash experiment Wally has never shared food, not even w his uncle. But here he was offering up some to a boy he hardly knows bc he thinks it’s cute when he eats candy. God she might cry.

Robin smiled at Wally. A real smile, the first one she’s seen all night. “You could still have it all if you wanted!” Wally said again his face turning a couple shades darker and thrusting the candy at robin, who artfully avoided his touch.

“We can share, don’t speedsters need extra calories?” Wally nodded and then proceeded to gather up the rest of the candy scattered on the floor. It was then that Iris noticed that Roy and dipped.

She was slightly panicked. Roy could probably fight for himself but he’s still a baby, a baby that Iris was in charge of. She hurriedly pulled out some blankets and turned on the tv for the boys while she dialed Barry who called Ollie. In a strange turn of events Ollie actually apologized to Iris, saying quote, “Roy’s a little jack-ass of course he snuck off. Don’t worry I’ll find him, probably screwed off to get drunk at some highschool party. Thanks for watching him while you could, I honestly expected him to scurry off a lot sooner.”

It didn’t exactly ease the tension in Iris’ chest but watching those two babies sitting on the couch pass candy back forth watching Charlie Brown specials made her feel a lot better. They were on opposite sides of the couch and Iris could see Wally’s little fingers twitching by his legs, he got up to go to the bathroom and came back only to really casually sit right next to Robin, like basically on his lap.

Robin wiggled up onto the arm of the couch.

“Ok so this ones a Milky Way,” Wally said passing the treat up to Robin.

He popped it in his mouth and chewed. “What’s the difference between this one and the snickers?” He asked, Iris was a little surprised by how good Robins accent was, he spoke like a natural English speaker, which he wasn’t. Every once in a while he’d use a word wrong or mispronounce something, a lit of something would catch on what he was saying but his American accent was pretty flawless.

“Snickers have peanuts, milky ways don’t,” Wally supplied in a duh voice. Robin smiled, “golly, you sure know a bunch about candies. You must be really smart!” And isn’t that so cute! Everyone treats the speedsters like idiots just bc they’re dense but here Robin is picking up on the hidden intelligence like a Batman should. Wally puffed his chest out all proud his face was still all red like a patchy strawberry.

A couple hours passed when Batman showed up. Wearing a different not soaked in fear gas costume, both Iris and Wally were sad to see robin go, well Wally was more devastated. The minute Batman stepped through the front door Robin was disappearing underneath his cape, according to Barry Robin doesn’t like to be more than 3cm from Batman at all times.

“Maybe we can hang out more!” Wally called his blush finally fading. A chipper ok sounded from somewhere in Batman’s cape, (Wally’s face turned scarlet in an instant) at the same time Batman gruffed out a no. Wally’s perfect baby face fell, Batman and Robin left. “Hey don’t worry kiddo I’ll talk to him!” Wally gave a half-hearted smile then went back to his candy eating.

Later he was engrossed in a discussion of patrol w his uncle while they both ate most of central’s candy supply.

As Barry and Iris got ready for bed an hour or so later she turned to him w a mischievous smile. “So it’s seems like Wally’s got his first real crush!” She sing-songed. Barry looked at her confused a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. “Who?” “Robin” she responded. “That’s doesn’t make any sense!” She signed, somethings speedsters really were dense.

[ask-villain-izuku-midoriya]

Talking about abuse and toxic families

Ace again. Kinda wanna talk about something.

A lot of people are convinced that I was lying about my family. About how bad it was there.

At first, I just thought of our relationship as unhealthy. But some people made me realize it was beyond that.

It was abusive. Physically, verbally and mentally.

Remember when I stated before that someone close to me broke my glasses and tried to kill me? That was my mom. She also lied about it to my dad, saying that I tried to attack her, and naturally he believed her.

My dad also made an attempt on my life once. I got in trouble for watching TV while wiping down the table. I still remember it all. It was on a Thursday night, and American Idol was on. It was near the finals, and Casey James’s cover of Mrs. Robinson was playing. I was 9 at the time. My dad was laying on the couch when my mom told him, and he called me over. He asked me why, and I got scared. I was stammering and shaking, and then he got up.

I remember him standing in front of me for a good 5 seconds, and it made me realize how small I was to him.

Then he grabbed me by the neck.

He picked me up and yelled, “ANSWER THE GOD DAMN QUESTION! WHY?!”

I don’t think I had ever been so scared in my life. I genuinely thought he was going to kill me.

I guess he realized that what he did was wrong(that or he realized that, y’know, when you got your hands around someone’s neck, they can’t really answer you), because he set me down and told me to go to my room(which I’m gonna talk about in a minute).

My mom came in after me, and told me to go brush my teeth, “because she sure as hell wasn’t gonna pay a dentist to do it.(also gonna talk about in a minute)”

Afterwards, she got her turn of yelling at me and wrestling me and making me feel like shit. She left for about 20 minutes, probably so that she could calm down a bit and put on a sugary sweet facade and apologize.

I forgave her. Stupid me. Only hurt me worse.

But my dad never apologized.

They’re mostly faded but I have scars on my back from when they spanked me. They experimented with everything: wooden spoons, plastic spatulas, belts, sandals, books, even a plastic hairbrush of mine.

My mom also punished me by pouring things down my throat. Tabasco sauce, Dawn soap, vinegar, you name it. I remember one time I said a bad word and my mom made my siblings pour vinegar in my mouth. I was standing there, sobbing and drooling like a rabid fucking dog, while she lounged in the pool and watched. To this day, if I even smell Dawn soap or Tabasco sauce, I start gagging. I have to have my coworkers make the hot wings at work, because I can’t fucking stand it.

One time we had this bulldog named Hercules, who was really aggressive. He attacked one of our other dogs and I tried to break up the fight. I ended up with a chunk of my arm missing, and after the incident, my mom blamed me, saying that I was stupid enough to try and break them up that it was my fault. I thought I was doing the right thing at the time, and that just kinda crushed me.

By 11 I was having...thoughts. Thoughts of, would they be happier people if I just didn’t exist? I felt like I was just an ant to everyone. Nobody would be hurt or be sad if I left.

The sad part was, it wasn’t just my parents. It was my siblings too.

Things got worse as I got older. One time my mom poured Dawn soap in my mouth, and then got in my face and screamed at me. I tried to talk, but my mouth was full of soap and it got in her eye. She punched me hard, so hard that I fell over. Later I looked in the mirror and saw blood running from my nose to my collarbone.

Others have witnessed the actual abuse happening. My grandma(her mom), my grandpa(my dad’s dad), my brother’s dive coach, my sister’s boyfriend/family friend, my brother’s friends, everyone.

One time my sister was mad at me when we went to the grocery, and sent me to get some ginger root. The ginger root was massive, so I tried to pick the smallest one. When I came back, she was pissed off that the one I grabbed was still pretty big. I tried explaining to her that they were all big, she threatened to punch the shit out of me, and that she didn’t care if she got arrested for it. The bagger saw it all, and asked me if I was okay.

It’s a sign that things are not okay when you have to smile through the tears and lie through your teeth.

My room was literally a walk-in closet. There was no built-in AC so often I would have to sleep in a 104 degree room. If I even TRIED using the bathroom or getting water, I would get in trouble, causing me to develop UTIs.

I only went to the doctor once every couple of years. They were just for check-ups. That was it. One time I had a bad stomach flu, it was probably the sickest I had ever been, and I begged, PLEADED for them to take me to the doctor. And they just said that I ate too much pizza. They didn’t believe it was a stomach bug until everyone else caught it.

Basically I was the joke in the family. Everyone was so successful, and I just felt like they were comparing me to them and rubbing it in my face. After I failed out, whenever the topic of my siblings’ success came up, my mom would scoff and say, “Well, I got the first three right, dunno about the last.” Every time she said that, it hurt so much.

One time my brother told me nobody in the household loved me, just that they were forced to love me because I was family. It’s been years since he told me that, and it still hasn’t gone away.

By 15 the thoughts escalated into voices. Voices that echoed everything they said about me. They still haunt me to this day. By then I needed glasses and nobody believed me, and I felt like I was abandoned.

At sixteen I was having suicidal thoughts. I had lived out part of my life and it wasn’t enough. Nobody loved me, nobody cared for me. Living was pointless. Classmates saw what was happening but when CPS came, all they saw was the pool, the nice cars, the TV and video game setup(which I was never allowed to touch because I was always in trouble with them), all of that. They didn’t see how I procrastinated on going home. They didn’t see the scars my mom had left on my skin. They didn’t see that my anxiety had developed into a skin picking disorder, and that I had torn up my skin because of how bad it was.

I wasn’t allowed to have friends over, or go over to a friend’s house. If my classmates gave me a ride, my mom would fucking explode. I wasn’t allowed a phone. In junior year my mom saw that I was listening to YouTube while writing an essay at school and locked me out of my school email. That was part of why I failed. Didn’t have access to my own homework.

I felt alone. My mom told me that I didn’t have friends at school, that the people I called “friends” were younger kids, and they only were my friends because nobody in my grade liked me or wanted to be around me. My siblings said that nobody would want to date my ugly fat ass.

With both of my jobs, she wouldn’t let me go to work unless I finished all of my chores. Sometimes she would make do really hard stuff, like mowing the grass, so that by the time I would get to work, I was drained. Plus, they made sure I didn’t touch my paychecks.

I spent $85 on a present for my mom on Valentine’s day, and I never got a thank you, further proving that I was unappreciated there.

I’ve tried so many things to keep my family happy, sometimes going a day without food because I didn’t want to eat something of theirs and upset them. I have bought them gifts, I have tried having fun conversations, I have gotten them food, I have done almost everything.

But it was never enough. I’d just feel so cold and empty inside.

I could keep going on about what all they did to me. But the moral of the story is: don’t stick around for somebody who’s gonna treat you like shit. Because all they’re gonna do is take advantage and hurt you even more.

[thefanficdude]

The Winter Months: NOVEMBER, Part 1

TRIGGER WARNING: Depression, suicidal implications and possible eating disorder

There were many differences between Wilbur and Dream.

For one, Wilbur’s village only had one leader that looked over every little detail, but Dream’s city had a leader for various things such as military, rations, and others. So because everyone had the title of leader, Dream himself had the title of… Dream.

In the city, whoever was Dream (the name of the leader position) left behind their name from birth and would further be referred to as Dream, either until death or the possible event that the title is evoked. The reason for this was because the god they worshipped had a similar name and it was an act of praise, sort of to say that no matter who was giving the orders, the ultimate ruler was their god.

Meanwhile, the village didn’t believe in any kind of god or deity figure. They solely depended on themselves to survive, and that was something Dream’s people would never understand.

Except for one.

Ranboo teleported back to the city he called home after the conversation he had with someone from the village. Toby, if Ranboo remembered correctly. He hoped he did. Ranboo had a reputation to forget things very easily, and that was one of the reasons Dream never made him in charge of anything. Ranboo was fine with that, he understood Dream’s reasoning.

Yet even in no position of power, Ranboo needed to talk to Dream like he was. He made his way to Dream’s house that was also used as a gathering place of sorts. It was the tallest building in the city, so it was easy to set apart from the rest. Ranboo stepped through the thin layer of snow on the ground until he got to the door. He knocked.

“Dream?” Ranboo said through the door. “It’s Ranboo.” Nobody answered. He knocked again. “Sir, I met someone while I was in the forest.” About 5 seconds passed.

“Come in,” A smooth voice came from the other side of the door and Ranboo walked in, silently closing the door behind him.

Dream stood where he normally did; at the head of the long table inside. Maps of the area, specifically the village, were scattered about, each one with different coloured marks of ink. Beside Dream on the side of the table was the newcomer. Ranboo couldn’t remember his name, but it started with G. Ever since he came, Dream and him had been inseparable. It was weird, but Ranboo didn’t think about it much more than that.

“Who did you see?” Dream asked.

“Someone from the village,” Ranboo replied. “He had brown hair, probably the same age as me, and-”

“No,” Dream cut him off. “What was his name?”

“Oh,” Ranboo became embarrassed. It was obvious that’s what he should’ve said first instead of a full description. “Toby.” The man beside Dream looked up.

“Toby?” He asked. Ranboo nodded. Dream looked at him.

“Do you know who that is, George?” Right, his name is George. Ranboo thought. George nodded.

“Yes, but everyone calls him Tubbo. Only people he feels especially close with call him Toby. I don’t even think his best friend calls him that.” George looked at Ranboo. “He told you to call him Toby?”

“Yeah,” Ranboo confirmed. “But he didn’t really-”

“What did you say to him?” Dream now stared directly at Ranboo.

“Uh,” Ranboo was in slight paralysis by Dream’s gaze. “Nothing much, I just told him I was from here and-”

“Ranboo,” Dream walked towards Ranboo. The few seconds of silence as he made his way felt like years. “Did you tell him our plan?” It was a question, but his voice was monotone the whole way through.

“No, of course not,” He lied. “But I got some info that might be useful to you.”

“Really?” Dream looked over his shoulder to George then back at Ranboo. “What info?”

“Phil is no longer their leader,” Ranboo said. “Wilbur, his son, is. The plan was to kill their leader, but you have the wrong target.” Dream smiled with amusement.

“Wow,” Dream said. “I had no idea.” He went back to the table. “I had no idea… that you could underestimate me so much.”

“What…?”

“Ranboo, there is literally a member of the village standing right beside me,” Dream gestured to George. “You thought I didn’t ask who their leader is?”

“But the letter said you were going to kill their leader.” Ranboo pointed out.

“Did you really think I was going to send them a letter telling them what my plan is?” Dream was still smiling. This was entertaining for him. “No, Ranboo. The target was Phil all along.”

“But what’s the point?” Ranboo asked. “It would be so much easier to fight them if Wilbur died instead of Phil.” Ranboo hated every word he was saying, but it was true, and he needed to know.

“Because if I killed Wilbur,” Dream said. “It would be too easy. After all, games are much more fun on hard mode.”

“So…” Ranboo thought for a moment. “So you’re going to kill Phil… for fun?”

“Yeah,” Dream said. “Is that a problem?” Ranboo took a breath.

“No, sir.” Ranboo turned to make his way out, but Dream stopped him.

“And one more thing,” Dream said. “I’m not ‘going to’ kill Phil. I already have.” Ranboo’s stomach sank.

“You what?”

~~~

Wilbur sat in the forest, leaning against the tree his father was buried under. A sign hung from the trunk. It read Here lies the Winged Legend. Rest in Peace Philza. The day it happened was still so clear to him.

The letter threatened him, Wilbur the leader, so he hid in his house with the letter from Dream in hand. There wasn’t much else to do except read it over and over again. Every once in a while, Wilbur would open the curtains on his window just a little bit to see what was happening with everyone else outside.

Then one time, he opened the curtains and looked into the forest, just in time to see an arrow point upwards. It was aimed at Phil. Before Wilbur could even process what was happening, the arrow flew and landed at it’s target. Phil’s wings stopped moving and he fell from the heavens to the ground. Without even thinking, Wilbur burst out of his house and ran towards the greenhouse, where Phil had fallen.

Wilbur saw Phil and got on his knees as soon as he got there. Wilbur picked him up and cradled him, looking into his open, soulless eyes. Wilbur shook him, yelled, even screamed his name, but he didn’t wake up. Wilbur checked to see if he was breathing. Nothing. Wilbur checked for a pulse. Nothing.

Wilbur screamed into the world and cried into his father’s chest for the last time.

Five days later, here he was, sitting at Phil’s grave while playing guitar, desperately looking for a familiar tune. He wouldn’t find one for a long time.

“Wilbur?” Tommy emerged from the brush, but Wilbur didn’t look up from his guitar. Tommy sighed. “Goddammit man, I’ve been looking for you for 20 minutes! I thought you died!”

“That wouldn’t be so bad.” Wilbur said.

“What the fuck,” Tommy sat down beside Wilbur. “Dude, don’t say shit like that.” Wilbur stopped playing and looked at Tommy.

“Why? It’s not like he bothered to stick around either.” Wilbur gestured to Phil’s grave. “Now leave me alone.” He continued to play, plucking randomly at the strings, making a melody that didn’t make sense.

Tommy was fed up with this. He stood up and took Wilbur’s guitar right out of his hands. Wilbur tried to grab it back, but Tommy started running back to the village.

“Hey! What the fuck are you doing!?” Wilbur stood and chased him.

“You need to stop feeling bad for yourself!” Tommy yelled back, still running.

“And you can’t just fucking take my shit and leave!” Wilbur yelled.

“Yes I can!” Tommy said. “Cause I’m doing it right now, bitch!”

Tommy and Wilbur made it to the clearing where the village was and Tommy ran into the Community House before Wilbur could catch up. Wilbur ran into the doorway, but stopped when he saw that everyone was there. They were all looking at him, sorrow and worry in their eyes. They were all sitting where they normally did. Niki and Eret beside each other, and Tommy and Tubbo on the opposite of them (though Tommy was standing, still holding his guitar). Phil always sat beside Tubbo, but that side of the bench was empty now. It would never be the same.

“What’s this?” Wilbur asked.

“We’re worried about you, Will.” Niki said. “Ever since Phil passed away, you’ve been at his grave for hours at a time. You even refuse to eat sometimes. It’s not healthy.”

“And we need you,” Tommy said, handing Wilbur his guitar back. He took it with force. Wilbur was annoyed by this, but he knew they were right. He didn’t want to admit that, but then he remembered that’s the reason he never got to apologize to Phil. That guilt would stay with him forever, simply because he didn’t want to be humble. “Wilbur,” Tommy continued. “As much as we need a leader, I need you as a brother more, so don’t fucking sit on your ass all day because of something you never could’ve prevented”

“But that’s the problem,” Wilbur said. “I never saw it coming until I saw the arrow fly out of the forest, and even then I couldn’t stop it.”

“But how would you have stopped it even then?” Eret asked. “Tommy’s right, there’s nothing you or any of us could’ve done.” Wilbur looked at the ground and closed his eyes.

“I can’t tell if it’s easier to process knowing I could’ve stopped it or not…” Wilbur said, silent tears building in his eyes. “I just feel so many emotions and pain, and all I want is for it to go away.” Niki stood up and put a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s going to be hard regardless of the situation,” She said. “Every heartbreak, dissapointment, and loss leaves a wound. Of course it hurts now, but eventually, either in a month or years, that wound will heal. It won’t be gone forever though. That wound is going to leave a scar, and everytime you think of him, it’ll hurt a little bit. But that’s your mind’s way of reminding you to not forget about him. If we truly moved on for good, nobody would remember you father and the many wise words he left behind.” Niki put a hand on Wilbur’s cheek to wipe away a tear with her thumb and Wilbur leaned into it. He’d forgotten how nice it was to be assured by physical touch. “The pain you’re feeling, no matter how unbearable, is not bad. It means you’re human, just like the rest of us.”

Wilbur felt something wrap around his torso. He looked down to see Tommy hugging him.

“We all need you, Wilbur.” Tommy said. “Now more than ever. If you give up, then we’re fucked… but there’s still hope. We just need you to stick around for a little longer. Can you do that?” Tommy looked up at Wilbur, and he could never say no to Tommy, especially now. As much as he hated it, everyone was depending on him. Wilbur took a breath and looked at everyone.

“We continue this fight in the name of Phil,” Wilbur said with passion, rage, and determination surging through his veins. “Say ‘Ai’ if you are with me!”

“Ai!” Everyone chorused in joy, and Wilbur smiled for the first time in a while.

“And, I’d like to make an announcement.” Wilbur looked at Tommy. “Tommy,” his gaze shifted to Niki. “And Niki. You are both hereby given the title of my right-hand man and woman!” Everyone cheered, celebrating the return of their leader, their newfound hope, and the promotion of two village members. For the first time since the death of Phil, there was happiness.

“So what’s first, Wilbur?” Tommy asked. Wilbur smiled.

“Well,” Wilbur said. “We need to get as much information about the enemy as we can so that we can make the best attack plan possible.”

“Oh, we got that covered!” Tommy said. Wilbur looked at Tommy confused.

“You do?”

Tommy looked at Tubbo. Tubbo stood.

“Wilbur,” Tubbo said. “We have a spy.”

[autisticangus]

anyway im so out of the loop on the mcelboys

i pretty much only keep semi-up to date with Sawbones at this point, not cuz i dont still LIKE everything else, just a lot has been goin on in my life

if anyone wants a long and rambly update on All Of The Bullshit im gonna stick a read more down here, asks are open and its cool to message me abt any of it if u want cuz i have some really nice and cool followers/mutuals here that make me comfy talkin abt that shit

as far as the future of this blog goes i wanna start using it more again! the mcelroys have gotten me out of some really dark places before so i hope having more connection to this community and the people here and their content again will help me like it has in the past! ill probs post more general mcelroy content here than previously rather than just taz btw i just gotta fuckin uhhhhh,,,, catch up on a bunch of shit again before this blog is even semi active lmaoo but im like alive and on tumblr regularly again!!

Wow u clicked on this and wanna hear me talk? Ur awesome and sweet, thanks for caring!

These past two years have been extraordinarily tough. This is gonna be a pretty long and detailed post that deals with the sensitive topics of emotional abuse, abusive relationships, and alcoholism. Please read on with caution.

Back in March of 2019, so this was about 3-4 months after i left tumblr, I got a new boyfriend and things started out really good, he was kind of a "bad boy" and it was fun at first. Im kind of a goody-goody so it was very interesting for me at first to be with someone so different who had such different life experiences than me. I liked hearing his stories of living in a traphouse, and running with gangs, and selling drugs, and knowing people who had killed people. I assumed a LOT of it was lies, obviously, who just brags about that shit u know? I just rolled with it, didnt take it seriously, and found the imagined scenarios interesting to listen to. So much of it was obviously played up to make him seem cooler, and I shouldve seen that as the red flag it was, and all my friends did but I didnt. 

He had a serious alcohol problem, I mean I had coffee in the morning and he had 2 four lokos before noon. it was bad. about 6 months into the relationship he decided i was cheating on him with my ex who i had recently reconnected with, we missed being friends and things were really going well talking and being friends again, he was really important to me! but my boyfriend saw this as yet another thing i was doing wrong. when he decided i was cheating, that become his focus of alcoholic rage. nearly every time he got drunk, which was several times a week, he would accuse me of things, he would yell and scream, he would call me horrible names and make me cry for literal hours, he never hit me but that shouldnt even matter, i was emotionally battered and mentally bruised and everything hurt. he gaslit me into believing i said and did things i never said or did, i admitted to things that were not real, and then i was yelled at for admitting them. i didnt know what to do.

he was threatening my ex too, he would get drunk and say he knew where he lived (he didnt) or he knew what car he drove (he didnt) and explained to me many times that although he had never killed someone, people had been killed before at his command. he said a bullet in the back of my ex’s brain was just a phone call and $500 away. somedays he would tell me he was just going to do it himself, with a hammer, or a kitchen knife, or whatever weapon he could get his hands on during his explanation of how he would do it. my only option was to agree, to say it didnt matter to me what happened to him, i had to pretend my on

/ly concern was him going to jail for the crime, if i showed any sign that i didn’t want my ex murdered, it clearly meant i was cheating on him. 

i pretended to block my ex on social media to get him off my back and it worked a little bit but he still brought it up. and even if he didnt directly mention him, he would always tell me when he was drunk that i was the cause of all his problems, i was why he was so self conscious, i was why he drank so much, i was why he had to work so hard, i was why every single issue he had was happening. logically i knew it was wrong, but i was so conditioned to it by then that i just went with it. i knew that agreeing and apologizing made the fighting end quicker.

things spiraled this past summer. his job needed us to relocate so we moved like 4 states away, away from all my family and friends, and lived in a tiny hotel room for a month. during this time, his drinking was somehow worse. he was drunk literally every night but he was passing out so we didnt fight and i was relieved. i was depressed being stuck in the hotel room all day alone, but thankful i wasnt being abused at least. then he started getting into drunken fistfights with his coworkers in the hotel parking lot. one day he came home just in time to find one of his drunk coworkers trying to break into the room with me there desperately trying to keep him out. i was terrified and wanted to go home but he convinced me to stay. a couple weeks after that we travelled for his work again several more states away. his drinking got a little bit better here, but i was so depressed and lonely, i was so isolated, he was all i saw day in and day out besides his coworkers and i was nervous around them. one day the guy who tried to break in on me, purposefully, while drunk, hit another coworkers car and totaled it and tried to run the guy over and i saw the whole thing. a week later my boyfriend was also fired because he got so drunk he passed out in the hotel parking lot and the company needed to save face with the hotel after the whole car incident. 

so we travelled back home, but not my home, to his where we lived isolated on a mountain with no phone signal or wifi. the house was old and not well kept from being empty for several years, half the appliances didnt work. i was more isolated than i have ever been in my life. for 4 months i stayed there and just dreaded him coming home because i knew he would be drunk again and he'd yell or accuse me of things or otherwise belittle me. it was horrible. my friends all said to leave and my parents said to leave but i was so brainwashed into thinking that if i was just a good little housewife and if i just stayed home and did the dishes and the laundry that he would be nicer but he still found things to point at and say i was cheating. he was also becoming really controlling about my food intake and weight and i already struggle with an eating disorder so that just made me feel even more like i had to stay, my brain felt like if i wasnt under his watchful eye id gain weight again, like somehow it was thanks to him i had lost weight and not my own choices.

one day last week i expressed to him wanting to leave, saying how unhappy i was, i told him how sad i felt and how i didnt think we were such a good match. he didnt take me seriously, so the next day when he got sloppy drunk before 5 pm i packed a small bag and went to my moms. i was just gonna stay for a night or two but he called and screamed at me for leaving without telling him, i told him he just didnt remember me telling him because he was so drunk, and he accused me of not caring about his feelings and made me sound like the bad guy for leaving without his permission. i told him it was just for a few days but the angrier he got the more i knew i was in the right and told him i was done. i told him we were breaking up and id come get my stuff soon.

i got my stuff while he was at work this past weekend and moved in with my best friend. im safe and happy now. things are looking so much better for me and im so thankful to my friends and family who supported me all the way to the end.

i just wanted to make this post because, i know its not mcelroy related, and a lot of ppl probably dont care for stuff like this on this kind of blog, but i think its important.

its important to friends and family of people in abusive relationships to be steady. dont give up your ground. even if the person keeps pushing back and wont leave the person, keep being there for them, it can take a long time, it took me almost 2 years to leave, it takes some people even longer, but just stay there for them and be there for them when they finally make that step. dont give up on them.

and to those who have been in these kinds of relationships, and especially those who are there right now: it is not your fault. it is so, so hard to leave, i know, but please try to find help and support and resources to do it. if all your friends dont like someone, theres a good reason for it. please dont fall into the trap of thinking your friends dont have the best intentions for you. there are so many things you may overlook in the moment that others can see from a mile away are horrible. especially if you have been abused in the past. its incredibly hard to tell what is a red flag when your gut instinct is that anything and everything is a red flag. surround yourself with people who you can trust and listen to them

and trust me, i know how hard it is when youre stuck in that spot of KNOWING you should go but fearing that first step away. its scary. its difficult. but it is worth it. find someone safe you can be with. and if you arent sure, find a reason to leave for just a few days, an excuse, anything. give yourself space from the abuser, tell yourself youre going back in a couple days, just get out from under the thumb long enough to clear your head and things will make more sense with the fog lifted.

when i first got in my car and put my kitten on my lap and told her we were going to my moms for a couple nights, i didnt know if that was the truth. i planned to come back and i knew i didnt want to. i only took enough stuff for a couple days. i couldnt imagine my life changing so drastically. where would i live? how would i make money? who take care of me? i had no clue about any of those things. but after a couple days away I realized i would take care of me. i remembered that i had worked jobs before i was with him, i could do it again. i remembered that i had options of where to live. all of those things were so clouded when i was with him, they felt like impossibilities. once i was away, even just for a short time, things were so much easier to parse.

and i know i had many privileges in this journey not everyone is afforded, and my heart goes out to those who read this and are in this situation and the options i had just arent accessible to you, i am so sorry, i wish i had something more to offer you but all i have is my story, and a wish that it gives you some hope at the very least, and a promise that if you need someone to talk to, im here, i will listen, and you will be heard and loved.

i just want everyone who reads to take something small but important away from it. love your friends, love yourself. please stay safe. please dont give up. remember love should not hurt.

[monzterzack]

Talk about Noah!!! I wanna know more!!

AAaaaawwwww heck yeah!!!!

Its morning and i got some energy!!!

Imma talk a bit about noah! Just.... let me get comfy, ill give u 3 of his core traits!!

1. His powers

Ok so .... SOME CONTEXT IS NEEDED

in this universe there are certain people that come from certain tribes that have inmense power, this people used to all share the same power but due to different circumstances (be colonialism, dead, or tribes separating) the marks end up appearing in the last remaining members alive and passing down said powers to their kids

You can diferentiate them from the tattoos that appear in their body, this tattoos are based on animals (noah is a lion, hudson haves a wolf)

SO IN NOAH'S CASE! he has a lion marking and his powers are mainly lighting and speed, he can creste lighting on his body and it can go from just a lil snap to a full blown lighting hit

He has worked his abilities to the best, but his fighting style is usually go FUCKING HAM and kicking and hitting till he lands a blow and obliterates you with his lighting

He is also know and has gotten a reputation for frying people up (which is why a lot of people think he is an evil bastard)

This powers however come as a double sword, they keep noah alive, practically unvincible since they work as a defense mechanism by healing him up as quick as possible, but in the case of mortal danger the powers will take over his body and he will go berserk

2. His alcoholism

Noah started drinking at a fairly young age (he was around 10) out of some misguided toxic masculinity, he was teased that he couldnt possibly be a man if he couldnt even take a sip out of a beer bottle, which is really stupid but also the adults around him that convince him of this were just messing up with him cause he constantly threw anger fits

Unfortunately noah in order to prove he was a man continue drinking and saw it as a personal challenge

After years tho this got mixed with his ptsd and bad mental health, so he stsrted to drink in order to shut the inner voices in his mind that kept telling him to kill himself

Noah spents most of his waking hours getting drunk so he cant think about how lonely and sad he feels constantly

He also drinks to easy the pain from his injuries after working cause he hates taking medication (he always chokes on pills and he haves a phobia around them)

And he also drinks to repress his feelings of attraction towards men, cause YOU GUESS IT, since he is soaked in toxic masculinity he also haves some heavy internalized homophobia and dysphoria around his attraction to man

When he is drunk he usually mellows down a lot around people he trusts, he is also more prown to fights, usually if he sees people mistreating others or if they come pick a fight

He likes been drunk cause then he can be himself a bit more easily, but he is also incredibly vulnerable, so his friends decided that he cant be alone and unsupervised when he gets hammered cause he is .... really a mess

His alcoholism has gotten so out of hand that he neglects any other need, he forgets all his other needs, specially eating, and his friends had tried to help him out of it, but due to lack of proper mental health services and his syndrome disorder making his life a living hell, they had decided to take it easy and first make sure he meets his basic needs and slowly try to get him sober first

3. The syndrome disorder

Noah haves some heavy ptsd, he has had a really REALLY SAD LIFE

Most of the parental figures he knew died.... and .... not very peacefully, so he kinda blames himself about it

He also is trans, and due to like.... the environment he was raised in, haves a very bad case of dysphoria, which is why he so desperately wants to stick to the terrible guidelines he learned

He is really really weird, he doesnt really have hobbies, and after he decided to live alone (at age 15), he hasnt had friends so his social skills are on the ground

He habes rejection sensitive dysphoria which makes social interactions twice as hard

Due to this he has develop several unhealthy defense mechanism, his first responses to been rejected or hurt are to either hurt them back or to isolate and avoid any social interaction from that point on

His self esteem is on the ground so he is very sensitive about what others think of him, he desperately wants to connect to others but also he is scared of abandonment, abuse or people making fun of him so he has made his personality as abresive and hurtful as he cans in order to make others get away from him, which in return make him get more emotionally starved and more emotionally fragile so he is stuck in this cycle

He wants out of this situation but he has messed himself up so much that all his mechanism lock him inside this machine of misery he created in his mind

He has tried therapy before, and he is still going but he goes once every month due to lack of funding, so ... it really isnt helping that much

He haves also insomnia, which only adds up to his issues, and haves many deep phobias that he cant seem to resolve

He's fears go from existential crisis (why am i alive? What if i end up dying alone?) To really childish ones (what if there are demons or ghost in my room? What if something bad happens when i turn off the lights?)

And most of them get worse at night, making it almost impossible for him to sleep

So that just.... makes this whole situation worse

He is also very neglectful of any aspect of his health, be mental, phisical or emotional

He works as a mercenary for two reasons, the first one been that he really doesnt know anything else, he has grown as a mercenary, its all he knows how to do right

And also because he kinda operates in a self destructive manner, where he goes ham and doesnt really takes precautions to avoid injuries

ALL IN ALL HE IS VERY SAD AND ANGSTY AND HE PROBS NEEDS SOME HELP

But do not worry!! Things get better once he starts making friends!!!!