#you can actually see my mental state slowly deteriorating as this goes on

[idle-compy]

*JWCT SPOILERS BELOW*

extremely messy live reaction

watched ep 1 from the roblox thing and didn't live react so

ep 2:

BEN GET UR EYES ON THE ROAD

ben eating out of a boot what is wrong with him

this whole van scene is fucking hilarious

BEN BROOKLYNN MEMORIES?? ON A ROOFTOP???

gonna make me cry on ep 2 I see how it is

darius just being overall disgusted with bens lifestyle I'm drying

"benjamin if you don't pull over I'm jumping out of your moving van is that what you want"

"is your friend ok?" "no 🙂"

USING THEY THEM PRONOUNS AS A DEFAULT HELL YEAH

ben has brown eyes at 17 mins

the roadtrip vibes are immaculate once u get past all the conspiracy stuff

why are these 2 licorice fanatics I hate them sm (affectionate)

ep 3:

"that is not at all what Hay smells like. have you never been around Hay before?" I'm obsessed with the dialogue

SAMMY HAVING AN ESTRANGED RELATIONSHIP WITH HER PARWNTS HUH????

"why are we running? we do not have a good track record with running!"

BUMPY CHASIMG BUTTERFLIES MY BABYGITL

she still picks him up 😭😭

mantah corp island investigation hmmm..

"that destructive carnivore" DONT SPEAK ABOUT MY DAIGHTER LIKE THAT

ANOTHER BROOKLYNN MEMORY KILL ME NOW

is that the fuckimg pink jakcet

sammy holding thr box with no effort anf bens big ass almost dropping it

why is so much happening in Sammy's life I wanna give her a hug

"he's getting more than a mud pie! he's getting a knuckle sandwich!" "You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

OH SHIT CARLS DEAD

now sammy has blue eyes wtf

damn that atrocitaptor really hates pies

SAMMY RUN GIRL

bumpy basically telling ben to leave omfg 💔

do his eyes ever stay on thr road

the hug 😭😭

THE BROOKLYNN CONSPIRACY BEGINS

MYSTERY WHISTLE PERSPN

Ep 4:

this eps called "brothers" time to cry

darius mocking ben I love him

"she's fine 😌" "I'm not fine!"

ben calling bumpy a "strokg independent woman" " strange thing to say but ok"

TWO BENJAMIMS??

BEN HAS A GIRLFRIEND NOOPOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

fuxk this

"she lives in.. europe?" he met her on that fucking conspiracy site didn't he

THE ALLOSAURUS

ben u eat food out of a boot u cannot talk ab kenjis place like that

"were not exactly on speaking terms" WHEN ARE YOU EVER

did kenji fucking shrink why does he seem so small

HE SHUT THE DOOR ON DAROUS STOP

THE STICKERS 😭😭

"this is. really something kenj!"

THE FANILY PHOTO IM GONNA SOBBBB

oh good lord the tension

"that's where my dad lives" OH FUCK

"I think we should split up" "you and yaz?!" TJE DISTRESS IN HIS FACE

his hand on his heart for the rest of the conversation he would've been more hurt by a breakup then they wouldve omfg

sammy tickle attacking ben THE FACT THAT SHE KNEW IT WOUD WORK

kenji masterfully climbing while darius is fighting for his life trying to put the gear on

WHY ARE THEY FIGHTIJG ON A MOUTNAIN SIDE

KENJI DUMPED BROOKLYNN?? OMG??

ANOTHER MEMORY

"I can't be with you anymore if you're not going to be with me" 😭😭😭

OH HES CRYING

ope kenj I saw that smile

KENJI AGREED TO SEE HIS DAD THE ANGSSTSTTSTSTST

NOOO THEY GOT BUMPY

ep 5:

WHY IS SO KUCH HAPPENING AROUMD THIS SANDWICH

WHY IS IT EVEN IN THE ROAD LIKE THAT

"that bush looks like ben" what does that even mean darius

KENJI CALLIMG DARIUS' MOM EVERY WEEK HE LOVES HER SM

I love this relationship ben and sammy have they're acting sm like siblings

ANOTHER BENJAMIN

HE STILL EATS CAROB

ben and sammy being dino activists ik that's rihht

mr king dino they could beat ur ass

FUCK YOU DANIEL STOP LOOKIMG HAPPY

THIS MAN TRYING TO LOOK GUILTY STFU

"did you have brooklynn killed?" straight to the point ok

"worried what?? that I'd double cross ya??" WHAT WAS ON THAT STICKY NOTE

BEN PUTTING SAMMY AS A SUSPECT?? ID BE PISSED TOO

he can't say the right thing to save his life

DANIEL TEYING TO KEEP SECRETS I VATE HIM

"just never had a father around to practice with" YEAH YOU GET HIM KENJI

NAH WHATS HE GOT PLANNED

"yeah ok I'll get my violin" kenji ily

NAH DANIELS STILL A SNAKE DONT TRUST HIM KENJI

sammy and ben causing mass destruction without meaning too hold habits die hard ig

YEAH SAMMY BEAT THAT MAN

bens list of loyal and amazing friends:

1) bumpy

2) corndogs

3) his van

DINO KING IS SUSPICIOUS?????

4) sammy

"he's just so!" "graah?" "yes! yes! exactly"

THE BROTHERS ARE COMMUNICSTIJG YEAAAHH

oh God I hope kenji has a backstabbing plan with this agreement

"I won't let you control me anymore" YEAH KENJI WALK AWAY

NUH UH YOU DO NOT GET TO LOOK SAD DANIEL YOU DID THIS TO YOURSELF

"there was something about her that was different. almost dangerous" I am taking everything be says with a grain of salt but things are getting so suspicious??

OH SHIT ANOTHER DEAD GUY

LET 👏 HIM 👏 DIE 👏

THE WHISTLE AGAIN

what in the goddamn green earth is that woman

daniel u may have saved kenji but I still don't like u

THEY KILLED DANIEL WE ALL CHEERED

she seems so robotic I'm terrified

now who is this

not him speaking Japanese 😭 he needs a hug so bad

ep 6:

YAZ I MISSED YOU

her ptsd is hurting her so much omfg

ANOTHER BROOKLYNN MEMORY

moment of respect for the outfit changes in the memories

brooklynn got yaz into dino immersion therapy 😭

these memories are killing me man am I allowed to stop cryjng

SAMMYS CONTACT PHOTO 🫶🫶

BEN LIKES ROCK MUSIC CALLED IT

WHATS HE DOIN THE BG

"we haven't really talked much lately" does ANYONR have a good relationship in this show

"It'll be good for you two to reconnect"

"yeah.. I hope so" IT WILL BE SAMMY IT HAS TO BE

the gfs are still healthy all it good all it well in the world

"no dinosaurs?" "judging by the look of that thing I'd say we have one now"

oh sammy really is treating her like a fragile flower

I already watched this scene in the released clip but bens scream is somehow even more funny

ben still callimg her fadoula I love their relationship

THE GIRLF ARE FIGHTIJG NO

"girlfriend?" "why does everyone act so surprised when insay that" bc u are gay

I feel so bad for all these people like imagine dinos get into the place ur promised they won't be

OH THAT AINT DPW OH SHIT OH FUCK

IVE BEEN WANTING TO SEE THE AFTERMATH OF THE VAN GOING OFF THE BRIDGE YEAH

off topic but I am obsessed with the end credit cards

ep 7

the ep is called "that night" I am in fear

oh that's the moment sammy saw how much yaz has grown calling it now

I feel so bad for kenji rn hes in so much pain :((

he's probably so conflicted rn. daniel only ever hurt him but he's all kenji knows as his dad

THE HUG THE HUG THE HUGGGGG

"I'd be dead if it wasn't for her!" what do you know mateo WHAT DO YOU KNOW

"it was there on purpose" AAAAAAHHHH I mean we knew but AAAAAAHHHHHHHH

HEY DONT DO THE HOPELESS MHSIC WHILE THEYRE TRAPPEDBIN THE VAN I DONT LIKE WHAT IT INDICATES

"I can't have the last thing I see be bens soggy van!"

YEE HAW THEY GOT OUT

MATEOS STORY WOO HOO TIME TO GET SOME GAPS FILLED IN AND SOME ANDWERS QUESTIONED

oh shoot did he accidentally help the bad guys

now why would he get out ofbthe truck in such suspicious circumstances

WE HAD TO SEE HER DIE FROM A DIFFERENT ANGLE ARE YOU KIDDING ME ?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?

OH HE TOOK THE PHONE

THEY SWITCHED SCENES BEFORE WE COULD SEEBWHAT WAS ON THE PHONE AVAAAHAHAH

oh wow the wet hair animation is so much better omg

GIRLCEIEND MOMENT GIRLFRIEND MOMENT

"I guess we need each other huh" *makes out*

them having their moment while bens grieving his baby

"ciao cara mia" I hate him

BROOK HAD A SECRET HOUSE

kenjis night just keeps getting worse

bros been DYING to throw those phones

"oh I am so gonna haunt them from beyond the grave" never change yaz

where on earth are they gonna hide on that truck

mateo seemed like a decent guy hope all goes well for him

her apartment was cute asf ok brooklynn

DID YALL SEE THE MOTORCYCLE HELMETS ?????????????? YEAH BROOK U WERE THAT GIRL

kenji stop reminiscing ur gonna make me cry

THE BROS ARE BONDING THEYRE GETTING ALOMG

KENJI WHAT DO U SEE

darius putting all the pieces together is so rad bc I sure am not

A SUSPICIOUS BAG OF MONEY???? IN HER CLOSET??? BFOOK GIRL WHAT WERE U A PART OF

SHE WAS WPRKING WITH DANUEL SHE WAS WHAT WHAJAJDHSLAJHFJSLAJD

I hope she was doing it for an investigative purpose SHE BETTER HAVE BEEN

but why didn't Daniel bring it up HMmmmmm...

"or what else she was hiding from us" OH HES HURT HURT

darius driving the motorcycle instead of kenji I'm cackling

ep 8:

THEY HID WITH THE SEDATWD DINO ARE THEY INSANE

not the dino smacking rhe lips it doesn't have

now why is she gonna stand on the dino instead of getting bens giant self to look out the gap

the drop is gonna be how they reunite isn't it

kenji screaming bc of a spider he's so real

THEYRE BEINF BROTJERS YEAH WERE SO BACK BABY

oh so they're working for extra cash too hmm

oh this place actually looks nice

VIDEO MEMORIES IM GONNA SOB

I am sufficiently uncomfortable thanks for asking darius

the boys are fighting again JUST VET ALOMG PLEASE

darius misses her so much seeing a bird made him think of her 😭😭

lookimg at the dates on the voicemails it's been at least 3 months since she died

DARIUS IN BATHTUB I laughed this is supposed to be sad and I laughed

I sense something big coming I gotta walk around for a bit

"I was in love with brooklynn" OH FUCK OH SHITNOH AJAHDKLAQKHFLAKHFKLAL

now I REALLY have to walk around for bc WHAT

WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WJAT WJATBQKHRLAJFLAHSLALKFHAL AAAAHAAHAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

rewatched the scene and I am no more sane ab it

BEN THIEVING ABILITIES MAKING A COMEBACN HELL YEAH

NAH WHATD THEY DOBTO BUMPY THEY BETTER NOT HURT MY GIRL

"boo." Yaz ily

THE VIDEO THE VUDEO AAAAAAAAAAAA

"were brothers righr?" HE SAID IT HE SAID IT WE WIN

every single moment with these 2 is so painful how am I supposed to exist in these conditons

WHAT DID THEY DO TO BUMPY WHAT DID THEY DO TO HER

THE GFS SAY I LOVE YOU SO MUCH ❤️❤️❤️❤️

THE DINOS JUST CHILLING INSTEAD OF STAMPEDING

YES QUEEN DINO U KILL THE MAN THAT TORTURED YOU

love the steggos just watching everything

yaz was smart with the lights u go girl

my heart is genuinely pounding for bumpy I am too attached to this fictional dinosaur

avocado costume?????? girls be fr

KENJI AND DARIUS ARE HERE TOO??

DARIUS IS GONNA FREE THAT BABY I KNOW HE IS

I hope the sino causes chaos later

"with me by your side, you kon climb anything too"

YEAH THE SINOS CAUSING CHAOS WOO HOO

"bumpy.. are you dying?" NUH UH BEN DONT SAY THAT NOPE

ALL THE CRYING SCENES THEY GOTTA STOP

kenji doing everything with graceful agility vs darius and his childlike experience

sammy kicking kenji TWICE now

TWO HUGS?? IN A ROW?? IM FED

the hugs are so much more natural in this series the animation improvement is insane

"creepy micro bangs'" that is a fantastic description kenji

THE ALLOSAURUS AGAIN

sammy being bumpys other parent 🫶

istg I'm already cryjng

if they kill bumpy idk what'll happen

bumpy is genuinely a part of their family they are completely falling apart rn

"move her tail!" IS SHE ABOUT TO LAY AN EHG

BUMPYS A MOM????!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!???@?!?!?!?!?!?!??

them passing the egg around like a baby in a hospital such a proud family

"wait what?" "don't think about it bud"

"ben! you're gonna be a grandpa!" glad they also see her as his daughter

NAH THE GUY I FORG9T THE NAME OFNIS EVIL

ep 10:

LAST EPUSOXE ALREADY??????

cabrera thats his name

YEAH SAMMY BEAT HIS ASS U GO GIRL

NAH FREAKY BOB LADYS BACK

she is genuinely somebhorror movie shitnor something

that scene was genuinely so intense I completely froze

EHOS DRIVING THE TRUCK

MATEO MY MAN I KNEW YOUNWERE GOOD

THE DINOSBARE GOING FREE BEAUTIFUL GEORGOUS THROWUNG BOUQUETS

obsessed with the shot of the t Rex in front ofbthe explosion hell yeag

"leave my girl alone!" SCREAM IT YAZ

DARIUS FREEING THE ALLOSAURUS I SMELL CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT

WAS THAT BUMPYS EGG IN THAT CASE

about time this man died

creepy lady is actually super pretty I hate that she's evil and kinda insane

darius finally stopped blaming himself 😭

"my guy. you're still here?" "unfortunately yeah. you all get real vulnerable with each other. it's weird" I'm dying

FUCK DUXK A AKHDLAKWYAPAHHFLAHWLAK

BROOKLYNNNANNAMANANNN

OH MY GODBOHNMYNGOD SHES SYDNEY GUYS SHE FUCKIMG SYDNEY ITS FUCKIKG BROOKLYNN AKSHALAKQLLQKDJALJFL

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAJKALAFJAJ

[thebiscuiteternal]

I had an evil thought on twitter and way too many people encouraged it, SO-

“Collecting the Pieces”

Mild Horror, Family Secrets, Mental Instability, Magical Fuckups, Sangyao-lite, Nie Huaisang Doesn’t Know Yet, Jin Guangyao Is About To Know More Than He Ever Wanted To

__________

There is something wrong with Nie Huaisang.

It manifests in small signs at first.

Little things like how he would look at a person, but not at them, green eyes dull as if he wasn’t actually seeing who he was talking to. The unnaturally pale tint to his skin and the dark shadows under his eyes. The fact that his robes had gotten heavier over thr last several months, trying to hide that he was getting thinner.

The incident where he had lost consciousness in the middle of a discussion with Ouyang-furen and had only been saved from cracking his skull against the floor by the reflexes of his head disciple was… concerning. But like all of the other symptoms, it could easily be tallied up as exhaustion from lingering grief and having so much responsibility dumped onto an unprepared back.

But then...

Then there are the conversations none of them can hear. Those moments where he sits with his head slightly bowed, staring at nothing and lips moving silently.

There is something wrong with Nie Huaisang, and for those not of his sect, his presence has gone from mildly concerning to downright unnerving.

Jin Guangyao has to point out to his father more than once that they have only just averted the conflict with the previous sect leader; to bar the new one from the discussion conferences just because he seems strange would be an insult tantamount to inviting war, even if Nie Hengbai does seem to be doing all the talking for the Nie at the moment, his sect leader a quiet little shadow at his side.

He finds it a unique opportunity to observe, in fact. Everyone is so unsettled by the mere fact that Nie Huaisang converses with empty air that no one has apparently thought to find out what he is saying when he does .

The seating arrangement isn’t ideal. The only person besides his own disciples who doesn’t seem to be scared off by Nie Huaisang’s unnatural behavior is Jiang-zongzhu, who pointedly settles himself on the opposite side from Nie Hengbai and scowls at all gossipers, their host included. His height half-blocks Nie Huaisang from view.

But still, Jin Guangyao can see.

And as he watches the words fall unheard from Nie Huaisang’s mouth, he feels a chill slowly creep up his spine.

‘Da-ge, come back. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll behave. I'll be good. Please come back. Please, Da-ge…’

He is glad that his sleeves hide the involuntary clenching of his hands.

While he knows better than to completely dismiss a possibility, no matter how small the odds, his mind nonetheless rebels at the first idea to enter it. It cannot actually be Nie Mingjue's resentful ghost haunting his little brother. Even if it had been whole, if he and Xue Yang had not scattered it with the man's physical pieces, it is decidedly not Nie Huaisang that the man would be tormenting with his presence if he were capable.

Isn't it?

And yet, he cannot shake the cold in his bones.

There is something wrong with Nie Huaisang, and he will seek out the source.

---

"San-ge?"

Nie Huaisang blinks at him, eyes glassy and confused. He tilts his head questioningly like the birds he is so fond of, then slowly regains awareness of his surroundings and smiles, looking more like himself.

Jin Guangyao forcibly clamps down on a shudder. "It's good to see you, Sang-er," he says, allowing himself to adopt the regional address since they are nowhere near the judging eyes of Koi Tower. He reaches out and sweeps the younger man's hair out of his eyes, then tuts in concern. "Are you still not sleeping well?"

"Ah-" Nie Huaisang flinches and looks embarrassed at the gentle chiding. "It's… nothing, really. Busy times and too much paperwork, that's all. Can I get you anything?"

"I just need to look over some map records, if you don't mind. A handful of small sects have brought a problem to my father, and I'm afraid our own records are… a bit lacking."

The younger man simply nods, accepting the excuse at face value, and Jin Guangyao isn't sure if that says something about Nie Huaisang's state of mind, or the Jin sect's reputation for ignoring anything that isn't expenditures or debts to be collected. Either way, when Nie Huaisang reaches out to tug his sleeve, he goes willingly and tries to ignore the slightly unsteady sway to his friend's pace.

Even though the poor end to his relationship with Nie Mingjue had been loud and public enough that the whole of the Unclean Realms knew about it before the day had even ended, he is apparently still a familiar enough face that barely anyone pays him mind.

Indeed, most of their worried glances are directed towards their sect leader.

He refuses to examine the possible reasons why that might be settling sour in his stomach.

They are still a few halls and turns away from the library when Nie Huaisang lets go of his sleeve and puts a hand to his head, looking even more pale than before. Jin Guangyao catches him before he can topple into the wall and then bites his tongue when green eyes slide over him, gaze unseeing.

“Sang-er?” he asks cautiously.

Nie Huaisang’s eyes don’t clear, but he seems to still be at least halfway lucid. “I’m sorry… I don’t feel well. I think I need to stay here. You remember the rest of the way, don’t you?”

“I do, but this is no proper place for you to rest.” He leans around the corner and waves over a passing servant. “Would you assist Nie-zongzhu to his room, please?”

“Of course, of course,” the woman says in a tone that conveys she is apparently -unfortunately- used to this. “Come along,” she says, taking hold of Nie Huaisang’s hand and wrapping a steadying arm around his waist, as if guiding a lost child, and he follows her lead without complaint.

Jin Guangyao watches them go and squashes that sour feeling when it threatens to churn.

Answers.

Answers first.

---

The library he needs, he has decided, is not the primary library, the one that Nie Huaisang had been taking him to. No, he seeks out the room buried so deep in the Unclean Realms that no daylight reaches it, that he had only stumbled upon by accident back when he had been employed here.

Lighting the only lantern in the room with a flame talisman, he finds that nothing has changed since the last time he was here other than a thickening of the layer of dust.

Swallowing hard, he straightens his back and starts with the family records.

---

‘After much deliberation and testimony from the physicians and healers involved in the care of the first young master, it is the advice of the sect elders that- ’

He has relit the lantern twice, and he’s fairly sure it’s long past dinner when he sinks into a chair and slaps the open scroll down onto the table, feeling lightheaded and shaky.

A spirit-tethering.

Until he had seen the books Lan Xichen carried from the library of the Cloud Recesses, such a thing had been the stuff of fantasy stories. Even in the vaunted Lan texts, it was only described in abstract theory.

And yet there was apparently enough foundation to it that a serious proposal had been made to cast such a thing between a pair of children to keep Nie Mingjue from being torn apart by the saber he’d bonded with far too young.

He forces himself to keep reading, feeling his stomach sink with every passage.

Nie Haoran had argued viciously against the idea for two years, even offering himself as the tether, only to be shot down due to his own unstable health. He had only given in when his son had experienced his first qi deviation at eleven years of age.

Eleven years old.

Nie Huaisang would have only been five.

Jin Guangyao bites his tongue again and presses the back of his hand to his mouth to forcibly swallow back the bile that bubbles up in his throat.

The mechanics of the matter only make the horror of it even more stark. The only ones who would have been able to undo the tether would have been the brothers themselves. He finds notes, plans, all written in Nie Mingjue’s sharp-edged calligraphy, of how he would set his brother free once his own health became too compromised but before his mind was too unstable…

But he hadn’t done it.

Hadn’t been able to do it.

He’d deteriorated too quickly.

Instead...

Nausea continuing to roil in his guts like a thunder cloud, Jin Guangyao rolls up the scroll and shoves it back into place with enough force that it crumples, practically fleeing the room even though there is no monster there to escape, just-

It is indeed dark outside as he traverses the hallways, barely able to restrain himself from running.

No one answers when he knocks at Nie Huaisang’s door. He sucks in a sharp breath to ground himself, then carefully pushes it open.

The room is as stark as he remembers from his last visit. Though he knows he Lan Xichen have both offered to help, Nie Huaisang has yet to start replacing any of the possessions that his brother had burnt. There is a tray of food on the table near the bed, untouched and probably long cold.

The person he’s seeking is curled up on the bed on top of the covers, still fully dressed. Fingers twitch and scratch at his own arms as he shivers, most likely in the throes of a nightmare.

His lips are moving.

Jin Guangyao doesn’t dare read them.

He closes the door behind him and crosses the room to the bed. Nie Huaisang doesn’t react to the dip in the mattress as he sits down, nor to being pulled and shifted until the younger man’s head rests in his lap. When he gently removes the guan from his hair and begins combing out the braids, however, the fit finally eases, the anxious lines of Nie Huaisang’s face smoothing out as he calms.

Jin Guangyao closes his eyes for a moment and sighs.

He now knows what is wrong with Nie Huaisang, and he knows he is at fault.

He could lay the blame elsewhere. He wants to. The elders who’d made the proposal... Nie Haoran for allowing it... the healers who’d carried it out… It is most tempting to blame Nie Mingjue for having not undone it as soon as they were both grown.

But no. The fact of the matter is that Nie Huaisang’s condition can be laid at his feet. Had he not hastened Nie Mingjue’s death… He doesn’t regret that.

He refuses to let himself regret that.

But this…

Grief could be moved past.

Missing pieces could not.

He opens his eyes to find Nie Huaisang has shifted to curl against him, and he allows himself a small, weak smile as he begins carding his fingers through silken hair again.

He knows what is wrong with Nie Huaisang, and perhaps he can’t fix the damage already done, but there are still things he can do. Information he can find, pieces he can move or remove. He can make things easier.

“It will be alright,” he murmurs, then leans down and gently presses a kiss to the sleeping young man’s temple. The gesture makes Nie Huaisang snuggle closer in his sleep, and his own smile gains strength.  “I took care of er-gongzi before, I will be happy to take care of zongzhu now. He is my responsibility, after all.”

[austarus]

Harry Wells x Reader Crisis of Infinite Wells (Part 4 of 5)

**A/N: The picture/edit/gif does not belong to me. It belongs to @moonymartell​ and @countlesswells​

** *Insert angel face emoji*

Word Count: 7267

Part 1    Part 2    Part 3    Part 5

‘Systems Online,’ a pop-up signal had indicated on the tablet you held with flashing red and white lettered lights. But the adrenaline in your veins would not subside. Taking in a breath of rushed air, you walked towards the monitors on jittery feet with the notion of checking on Nash. Looking back up at him, his eyes were shut, and his lithe body was reclined in the chair with machinery hooked up to him. You dread ball up in the pit of your stomach as silence hung in the air.

“Did it work?” Ralph questioned, glancing to everyone then back to you; confusion written on his face.

“Is there something that should have happened?” Barry followed up beside Ralph.

“Well if there was a big bang sound, followed by multiple spontaneous sparks flying everywhere and the room’s electricity short-circuiting along with small fires combusting from the machinery then we’d be in trouble.” You watched Nash’s neurological and physiological vitals rise and fall within homeostatic values on the monitors. Normal. Stable. “I- According to my theoretical calculations- yes, I’m getting science-y right now-,” you exhaled while you gestured with your hands as you spoke, “each psyche that had manifested itself into Nash’s being should have effectively split from his psyche and returned to their respective bodies in each dimension harboring a Harrison Wells doppelganger. Harry and the others hypothesized that their bodies must be unconscious, but alive in order for their psyches to remain intact within Nash’s mind.” The others looked unsure. You rubbed your exhausted eyes. “It’s just like how when you and Iris used the Mindscape Machine to enter into Nora’s mindscape when she went into Grace’s mind. Sherloque said you both would enter with your psyche’s and they had to be intact in Nora’s head in order to ensure you’d be able to return to your bodies unharmed. If the psyche is harmed and killed in any way, then the body essentially dies,” You took a step towards them away from the monitors with the tablet held close to you. “The reverse should be correct as well. If the psyche is absent from the body, the body must be preserved at stable levels in order for the psyche to return and realign itself in its proper body. That’s what we’re relying on. Hopefully they all made it back to their respective bodies.”

“In this case, it’s the multidimension of Wells,” Chester interjected, lowering his voice to a whisper. “So freaking cool.” Allegra rolled her eyes as she continued to cross her arms.

“Nash would have felt the absence of a Wells in his psyche if another doppelganger’s psyche had deteriorated due to its unconscious body not surviving. Wolfgang would be able to pinpoint who it is because he has a neurological roster of the Council of Wells that he had implemented into his own mind, therefore his own psyche.”

Iris spoke up after you finished, running a hand over her forearm as she resisted the urge to itch the patch of skin. Side effects from remaining in the Mirrorverse for too long. “So, they get back to their bodies. Then what? How are they going to get here?”

“Each Wells should be able to use their intelligence as well as tapping into their own resources on their Earth and use the dimensional coordinates they have to get relay their dimensional coordinates and the states of their Earth’s back to Earth-Prime,” You answered in a heartbeat with a snap of a finger. “Sherloque, Harry, and Wolfgang should be coming as soon as they wake up. They work fast and everything.”

“Ugh,” Cisco groaned in irritation, throwing his head back, “not Herr ‘off-you-go’ Wells.” The rest of us giggled at impending misery. “I swear if he makes one snide remark.”

“Wait, how do you know if we’ve got all the Wells and their dimensions? Is there some sort of algorithm the satellites are tracking?” Kamila added from beside Cisco. You watched his eyes melt a bit at the fact that she takes interest in understanding his areas of expertise like how he does to her photography and artistic nature.

You gave Cisco the honors of explaining that one. He turned to his lovely girlfriend. “My babies up in the heavens, god bless my mechanical genius, are calibrated with the finest technology to identify any molecular or subatomic shifts produced by any wave of dark matter or antimatter.” Kamila grinned at him as he continued. “But we won’t know for certain until Grumpy Cat, Tea Leaves, and Herr Prim-Posh Pants summon themselves through to correctly calibrate the DCP (Dimensional Communications Projector) to the actual dimensional values. You know, the Wells touch and all. God, but I swear if they break anything-”

“-They’re not,” you giggled as you cut off your annoyed friend, “I already told Harry that this area would be a ‘No Throw’ zone. The guys know better than to throw things that aren’t theirs too.”

“What about Nash?” Cecile pointed at the unconscious man.

Right, this part. “I will stay here to monitor any changes to his vitals until he wakes up. I already have a universal blood sample from our very own speedster in case Nash’s body were to start entering a state of flux. Barry’s cells should be able to repair any damage in Nash’s body if that were to happen. Just like he did to Ralph.”

“But Ralph’s body is pure elastic. It can bend and readjust itself to anything. Nash’s human.” You make a very excellent point, Cecile.

“Don’t worry, I’ve already run tests on myself and Cisco in order to ensure that the small blood transfusion would work on non-metas.” You fist-bumped your bro, who nodded approvingly. “Tiny increments should be able to do the trick.” Cecile nodded at you, giving you a motherly proud look before it contorted into a pointed one. You knew what she was going to say, but before she had a chance to say it the meta alarm went off.

“I guess that’s our cue to leave things to you,” Barry smiled at you, before nodding everyone to the direction of the door.

“Don’t die out there,” you teasingly yelled at their retreating figure.

“We’ll try not to.”

“And Barry, you need to do a prognosis physiological and biochemical report on your body from using the artificial Speed-force. Can’t have you losing your speed halfway through the day.”

“Yes, mother, I’ll be home before dinner to do homework,” Barry snickered, as he waved you off as he left with the others.

You rolled your eyes playfully at your antics with him and the others. Taking a seat in front of the monitors, you gave Nash another look. No matter how many times I can joke around with the others, I still feel the weight of their lives on my shoulder. You chewed on the inside of your cheek as your eyes flickered onto the screens. You need to wake up soon Nash. Running a hand through your hair as you set your head against your arm which leaned on the metal table. I need to know I didn’t kill you.

***

An hour had passed, and you felt your head was down to its last brain cell. You blinked slowly as you laid it against the cool metal. Nash was still unconscious, and you were starting to get worried. His vitals were still substantially at equilibrium. You shut your eyes for a moment. Allegra strode in with an annoyed look on her face as her eyes landed on Nash then to you.

“I don’t get why you care about him,” her rushed voice caused you to lift your head up. She continued while you quirked an eyebrow at her. “Why you’re wasting time watching over him. I mean after everything he’s done to me and the rest of us. Hell, he took your boyfriend away from you for some shit myth-busting. How is it that you still try to make yourself available to help someone like him?” It pisses me off and so does his existence!

“Allegra, Nash’s a human being too.”

“Ugh, whatever.” The young adult padded over to where some tech lied in attempts to obtain the thing that Cisco had described he needed.

“Ok, no. I can’t do this today.”

“Excuse me?” she narrowed her eyes at your change in tone. What’s got her panties all in a sudden twist?

“I’m am so tired of your bullshit attitude towards him,” You threw out, standing up from your chair with flared nostrils. “Your incessant whining when we don’t tell you every little detail about us, and how you treated the rest of us like dirt as if we haven’t been trying to stay by your side.”

“I haven’t-”

“Do you honestly not remember the way you treated Joe and Cecile? With rudeness and hostility and utter venom? When they had tried to get you to trust them to keep you safe from your cousin? How you were so pissy at Iris for not telling you about Team Flash? How you sneered and lashed out at Frost for trying to help you with your boy problems? We’re just going to sweep all that under the rug and call it a day?” You rhetorically asked with utter frustration. “And Nash, what is your problem with him? That he didn’t tell you that his adopted daughter who died right in front of him is your doppelganger? That’s your reason to emotional and mentally abuse him?! Boohoo, he didn’t tell me the truth. I’m a journalist I have to know the truth.”

“I don’t know wh-”

How can one person be so selfish? “Yes, you do. I’m a family practitioner, I know the signs of abuse even if it isn’t physical. 1) The silent treatment you give him whenever he tried to approach you to see if you were alright or if you needed help. 2) Not taking any responsibility for your toxic behavior towards him. 3) Pushing him to the point where he questions himself and his sanity because of how much you openly despise him. 4) Leading him to believe almost everything that goes wrong around you is his fault when it’s not. That’s gaslighting. 5) Using shame and his guilt to make him feel worse about himself regarding problems he already deeply regrets and works every day to make up for it. 6) Appearing indifferent when he’s clearly hurt/sad/upset. That’s called lack of empathy. And 7) ignoring him when he’s trying to express his feelings or trying to explain himself to you, but obviously because of all of the above you never gave him the fucking chance.” I get that her upbringing was rough but isn’t it hypocritical of you to pry at everyone’s hidden secrets when you have some of your own. We barely know anything about you other than the CCPD records and your meta abilities.

You had taken a few steps closer to her, seething and seeing red. Allegra struggled to retaliate, “I didn’t know-“

“No, you clearly didn’t because every time he tried to talk to you, you always shot him down harshly. Nash tried to give you time and space, always hoping that you would be ready and one day just listen to him. Do you not know how hard it is to wake up every morning to see the doppelganger of your dead child? Do you not understand how hard it is for him to relive the memory of her death over and over again? How much grief he’s carried in his heart and all of a sudden, by a stroke of chance his daughter’s doppelganger is part of Team Flash on this Earth?”

“…”

“You call yourself a journalist, but only when you don’t get what you want. You used that card so many times against Iris, especially when you snooped on her computer and found out about the crisis.” You took in a breath from your heated speech to calm down. Your headed started to pound even more Never in your life have you gotten this ballistic. You counted to 10 and regained control of your breathing and your tongue. Allegra was downright speechless, stunned in her spot at your ebullient words. “I’m not sorry for everything that I’ve said. You needed to hear it to wake up from that closed off and childish world you live in. Because whether you like it or not, he’s family too. And he’s here to stay, just like you. That’s the truth. You have trust issues, even when you’re with us. All of us. You doubt yourself and hesitate. That’s another truth. And you just use him as a punching bag to let out your frustration and pent-up annoyance on someone who only wants to protect you. Penance for not being able to protect his own daughter.”

“I didn’t ask for him to protect me. I’m not helpless.”

“We don’t ask for a lot of things in life to happen, but they do so anyway. Barry got struck by lightning. Frost and Caitlin watched their father die. We’ve lost so many precious souls. But life goes on. Is Iris helpless when Barry saves her? Is it true when vice versa happens? Frost distracts the baddie in time for Cisco to work his tech magic. Is he helpless? Is Ralph helpless when Sue took down those assassins even though she knew he was Elongated Man who is more than capable of handling a few bullets?”

“I- No?”

“Having another person around isn’t a sign of weakness, but strength. Surrounding yourself with people who love you, who you can call family isn’t an exhibition of helplessness. Allegra, you have a home now. A family that will always want the best for you whether you choose to trust us or not. And no matter what happens, Nash’s resolve is to ensure your safety even though he knows you are your own person. For his dead daughter’s sake. That’s how he believes he can redeem all that he’s done. Is that wrong?”

“But he manipulated me and then basically started the crisis.”

“Then I guess you don’t know the full story about that either,” you mocked her. Some reporter, huh. “First off, Nash told you about Team Flash before Team Flash told you about Team Flash. Why? I can only assume that he wanted you to know before you found out the hard way. Meaning if something where to happen to you unexpectedly like Blackhole targeting you because of your affiliation with Iris. He wanted you to already be aware of them and to know who to go to in case things got rough. Secondly, he gave you the push you needed to not fear your powers. To trust yourself. He foresaw that you’d need your powers and so would the others. So, where in all of that does Nash win and leave you for ruin like Eobard Thawne has done to the others? Was it wrong for Nash to indirectly help you in his own awkward bargain-y kind of way?”

Allegra ran a hand through her hair as you spoke, wanting desperately to prove you wrong that Nash was just using her. “It’s just… weird. I’m her doppelganger, I’m my own person. I’m not… her. I don’t even know her name.”

“Her name is Maya and if you asked Nash, he’d be more than willing to tell you about her, and you’d see for yourself that you and she are not the same.”

Allegra nodded at your words, looking as if she would contemplate it. You hoped anyway. The man didn’t need to be broken further. “How do you know all this?”

“It’s honestly pretty simple to push his buttons a bit before he spilled his pent-up feelings to me after we exorcised Eobard out of him. And I’m pretty sure Harry’s been giving him hell for Nash’s unsuccessful attempts with talking to you.

“Who’s he again?”

“An evil murderous speedster that has a thing for ruining Barry’s life and ensuring his existence in the timeline. Not the first time that’s happened, but the crisis allowed for us to do an exorcism was very… eye-opening.” You grinned mirthlessly to yourself causing her to smile a bit. You sighed and took a seat, gesturing for her to take it. Rubbing your eyes, you spoke up, “Nash isn’t the only one.”

“I don’t understand”

“4 years ago, Zoom was terrorizing Earth-1 and Earth-2. A speedster that could breach back and forth if all 52 breach-points weren’t sealed. It was terrifying to say the least. Barry, Cisco, Harry, and I breached over to Earth-2 with a 24-hour time limit in saving Jesse. She’s Harry’s daughter. His pride and joy, his one weakness but his true.”

“You sound like she’s yours too.”

In a way, she kinda would be if- “She’s a brilliant young soul who rivaled her father in intelligence and had a high-spirited personality. Later on, she was accidentally gifted with speedster abilities when Harry and the others tried to regain Barry’s speed. Abilities that Harry still dreads to this day because he’s an overprotective grouch. You’d like Jesse if you met her. Any who, I’m going off topic-” You laughed to yourself. “We had a strict time limit to find her before Zoom and his meta-minions expunged us off the multiverse. And Barry, he went undercover after kidnapping his nerdy doppelganger- “

“-so, Barry basically kidnapped himself- “

“-Yeah. A lot of weird shit goes on with us, but those are all stories for another time.” You waved the thought off before continuing. “So, he was undercover, and he met up with Joe and Iris’ doppelgangers on Earth-2’s Jitters. Barry couldn’t help himself when it came to protecting them when Earth-2 Killer Frost and her boyfriend crashed the little party in search for Barry and us. In the name of Zoom, they were sent out to kill of the breachers. Barry got involved when we were supposed to be incognito getting in and getting out. He sped E-2 Joe to the hospital and E-2 Iris away before she could shoot at E-2 Killer Frost. Even though, Harry told him that these doppelgangers were not his Iris and Joe, that he shouldn’t get involved with the people there. Barry saw the differences and, I kid you not, yelled at Harry that even if they were doppelgangers, they were still his Joe and Iris. He had a sense to protect them, just like Nash does for you.”

“That’s…”

 “It’s a lot, I know. We’ve all been through a lot in these past 6 years. Just… just think about it. Give Nash a chance to talk to you. To explain everything to you from his point of view. Because deep down, he knows you are your own person, but that you’re special just like Maya. Just as what Barry saw on Earth-2 with Joe and Iris’ doppelgangers. Lives worth risking for.”

You watched as Allegra took in a breath, really letting everything sink in before nodding at you. The gem that Nash had given her was still in her jacket pocket. It amplified her UV powers into mentally confusing the person in front of her. She fiddled with the tech in her hands. “I need to go give this to Cisco. He’s probably wondering if I drowned or not.” You nodded at her with an understanding smile as she retreated out the speed lab. Sighing harshly, you allowed the tension to leave your body as you reclined back in your seat. You shut your eyes. I hope I made the right decision to speak my mind to her.

“Didn’t think you thought that highly of me.” Your eyes fluttered open as you took a sharp intake of breath. Nash chuckled to himself at your dismay. His head felt incredibly murky as he blinked the dark spots away. He remained reclined as he rolled his head to the side, the feeling of his limbs returning to him as he urged his fingers to twitch and curl.

“Nash?! You were awake the entire time?!” Nash just smirked languidly at your embarrassed outburst, ignoring the slight throbbing sensation in his head. “Why didn’t you chime in?”

He watched you slowly sit up with worriment. Nash noted your continued exhaustion. “I was intrigued on what you had to say on my behalf.”

“Worried I’d tell her to UV your existence off the planet?”

“No, you wouldn’t do that.”

“And how do you know that? I can be pretty mean.”

And pretty bossy when you berate me for running into danger. But in either case, still pretty. “I understand. But then the question begs, why would you go to such great lengths to defend me?”

“I didn’t defend just you, Nash.”

“But almost the entirety of the conversation revolved around me and how I felt. My regrets and intentional self-punishment. You could have told her that you didn’t care and that she could continue to give me the cold shoulder… but you didn’t. Isn’t that right, little lady?” Nash coyly mocked you, causing you to roll your eyes at the Wells doppelganger. “Like you said, I’m a human being as well.”

“And a dumbass,” you muttered in a hushed voice to yourself as the taller man moved to stand up, he swayed not quite oriented yet. You were on your feet at once to steady him back into his seat. “Let’s do a couple of tests before you do any gallivanting across the city.” You checked over the monitors, noting that some vitals had dropped below normal which could be due to him waking up from the psyche-neural mental surgery.

“Do you want to take Barry’s blood?” You held up the syringe of speedster blood O-.

“Pass. I’m not a vampire.”

“I know you’re not a vampire, you idiot! This should speed up your body’s biochemical processes for you to retain homeostatic levels and for your mind to reorient itself to the psyche-neural splicing.” Nash stubbornly agreed to the blood administration. He rolled up his sleeve while you pulled out the necessary equipment to work your medical magic. You were just about finished when the geological myth-buster spoke up.

“Thank you… I owe you a favor.”

“Huh?”

“I said, thank you.”

“Sorry, just one more time. I don’t- I don’t think I… caught that correctly.”

“How does Harry even put up with you?”

“You can ask him yourself when he gets here,” you responded cheekily with a huge toothy grin on your face. You won’t lie and say that your heart didn’t jump that Harry would be coming soon. “Now what’s this about owing me a favor?”

Geez don’t smile like that at me. Nash pushed away those pesky thoughts. “I honestly really hoped you wouldn’t catch that, but,” He paused for a moment to collect his words as he sat up, now not taking for granted the silence within his own mind. “After you put the Psyche Segregator on me, I realized something. The favor you owed me, protecting Allegra, it’s… a favor without an expiration date.”

“So?”

“It wouldn’t be fair if I did not do the same.”

“I’m not following.”

“Gods! What I’m saying is, that I owe you a lifelong favor. But only one.”

He owes me a favor. A lifelong favor. A favor that’s lifelong. A favor that doesn’t expire. An expirationless favor. I get a lifelong favor. A dumbass owes me a favor. “…”

“What’s it going to be?”

“… I can’t think of anything right now.”

Nash only blinked at you. “Seriously, you can’t come up with something in that ditzy head of yours?”

“Hey, I take great offense to that!”

“Good, it’s the truth.”

You put away the medical equipment and disconnected the screens that held his vitals. While you were up, you gave him a water bottle and some food to help with the dizziness. Nash felt his strength return to him as the blood transfusion allowed his body to work faster in restoring itself. “You never told me; did it work? Are they…?” You trailed off pointing to your head as he stood up.

“No mo-”

Swouush, swooush

The crackling sounds of atoms and the fabric of this dimension cut you off. You turned around to see two breach-like holes open up in the middle of the speed lab, familiar and friendly faces exiting safely. They pocketed their newly synthesized dimensional extrapolators.

“Vhy don’t you take ein gut look, schatz?”

“Oui, we’d be more zhan ‘appy to answer zhat for Nash.”

You greeted them cheerily with a hand wave as they approached you and Nash. Wolfgang nodded at you before making a beeline to where the DCM remained. Sherloque tipped his hat to you before nodding at Nash.

“You guys made it safely.” :D

“Zhat we did, petit fluer. A few bumps on zhe way, but nozhing eizher of us could not ‘andle,” Sherloque piqued up,

“Then that means-,” You pulled out caramel vanilla flavored chap stick out of your pocket and applied it to your lips. Your heart waited in anticipation not even wanting to waste time to even fix your hair. Harry will be here soon. The boys just watched you carry on with a dumbstruck smile on your face as you stood in place and waited for a breach to open up. Wolfgang resumed working on recalibrating the DCM for the others.

“Did you just put on chap stick?” Nash asked with quirked eyebrows and an incredulous look.

“Well, yeah? When I see Harry, I’m going to wanna kiss him, duh.”

“You didn’t get enough from-”

“-Sherloque, don’t-”

“-when you were making out wizh ‘arry in Nash’s ‘ead?”

You shut your eyes and groaned, blood rushing up to your face as you covered it with your hands. “They did what?? Seriously, in my mindscape?” Nash’s flare-up caused Sherloque to snicker as he smirked at your bashfulness.

“Ja, zhey did zhat.” Wolfgang sighed, pulling up new schematics one the computer screen. He worked diligently with any piece of technology at his fingertips. “Alzhough, Sherloque vas zhe unfortunate one to valk in on zhem. Gott sei Dank bin ich es nicht.”

“Oui, zhey were getting very ‘ot and ‘eavy zhat it took Wolfgang and moi to interrupt zhem from what people on zhis Earth would say ‘rounding zhe bases like deux ‘ormonal teenagers.”

“Sherloque, stop! Please!”

Your cheeks were on fire and you know they could see the colored hues. Sherloque and Nash continued to tease you while you attempted to ignore their playful jabs. No Harry yet. It’s been… 15 minutes. Don’t panic. He’s ok. Probably held up or something at his Labs. He’s ok and he’s with Jesse. Just breathe. “I-I should probably run some small physiological diagnostics on you guys since you just crossed over and we don’t know if the dimensional travel will negatively impact you or not.”

“Great, she gets nervous and all of a sudden to distract herself, the little lady wants to run tests.” Nash facepalmed while Sherloque just gave you a look.

“Hey, I’m not nervous! How many times are you going to offend me today?”

“As many times as necessary.”

“Everyzhing zhat you’re doing right now are common gestures of being nervous. You keep playing wizh your fingers and biting on your bottom lip. You did zhat last year whenever we were discussing Cicada.” Sherloque added much to your chagrin.

You pouted with crossed arms. “I don’t do it often.”

“Yes, you do.” Both Nash and Sherloque responded simultaneously and you felt yourself shrink a bit under their combined blue gazes. Before you could say anything, Wolfgang let out low whistle. The three of you turned to him as he began to speak.

“Systems are all online und fully functional. Zhe ozhers should be sending us zheir dimensional coordinates und ve can commence vizh zhe cataloging soon.” The German man continued speaking as he finished typing up a few more algorithms on the computer. “I’ve already uploaded ein copy of zhe roster from my mind zhat vay ve could check zhe ozher Vells off Stück für Stück.

You nodded at Wolfgang’s words, but felt your stomach squeeze in your lower abdomen. “What about Harry?”

“Ve vill just have to vait until he shows up, schatz.” Wolfgang adjusted his glasses as he gave you a brief glance. You weren’t the only one to notice that since arriving on Earth-Prime that Wolfgang wouldn’t meet your eyes. “Do no vorry, Harry vill come.” Your shoulders sagged at the idea, an action Sherloque picked up on which prompted him to give his two cents.

Mh, une distraction semble être de mise. “(Y/N), Wolfgang ‘ere told me an interesting story about ‘is Earzh and a particular person ‘e ‘ad come across. Say, your doppelganger for instance.” The Frenchman took off his fedora to card his fingers through his dark locks whilst Wolfgang momentarily froze. Nash stretched fully before retreating out of the room, knowing he wouldn’t be needed and wouldn’t allow himself to be psychoanalyzed by the one and only Sherloque Wells. Sherloque smirked as Nash left and Wolfgang’s reaction. Il n’y a pas de mal à partager des histoires.

“Nein, halt- Ich-”

“-He told you or did you deduce it from him like you do to everyone else?” You questioned your friend slyly before turning your head back to the German Wells. “Wolfgang, you knew my doppelganger?”

“Ja, ve… ve used to be close in university.” His cheeks dusted pink as he fumbled about with the wiring of your Earth’s extrapolators. “She vas zhe one zhing zhat remained constant zhrough zhe years.”

“What happened to her? You’re talking as if-”

“She passed avay. Ja, she did. She vas terminally ill… Multiple Sclerozis.”

So that’s probably why he doesn’t like to look at me for too long. “I’m sorry. My brother- he died a few years ago from Multiple Sclerosis too. I guess the apple doesn’t fall too far from the family tree even across the multiverse, huh?”

“Ja.”

Ok (Y/N), way to make it super awkward. “I should- leave you to your sciencing. Sorry about that.”

Wolfgang just nodded his head in thanks before sending a glare to the detective while Sherloque advised the both of you to venture out to the breakroom for to make drinks. With a smug look on his face, obviously. Qu’est ce qui retarde ‘arry? The same thought echoed hauntingly in your mind as well. You allowed the French detective to pull you down the corridor for some coffee and tea, but your mind could not for the life of it let go of Harry.

***

You waited. Patiently, if I might add. It’s been 2 days since Wolfgang and Sherloque had popped over. Obviously you had gone home to shower and change before coming back with some snacks. The cataloging was running smoothly. Wells one by one projected themselves over via the DCM and recounted their dimensional coordinates as well as establishing the state of their Earth in this new dimension. But you grew uninterested in the different variations of your boyfriend. Each second ticked away at your heart. Like a fool you’d look up at the different sounds that would come from the center of the Speed Labs only to be met with disappointment. Sherloque eyed you as you waited around like a lost puppy for the Earth-2 man, even at points getting up and pacing. The detective saw the anxiety ooze from you at the fact that Harry hadn’t arrived yet, so he did his best to distract you from your worries and thoughts. But he was running out of stories of Earth-221, interesting cases, and discussion topics to tell.

Barry had sped in a couch for you and Sherloque to sit in as you waited for Harry to make an appearance. The detective calmly sipped at his new flavored tea, one that you had provided. Wild Raspberry Hibiscus. You blinked the sleep from your eyes, willing yourself to be alert. You had already consumed 4 cups of coffee with espresso yesterday, but those sleepless nights were slowly pushing against you. The two of you sat in silence with only the hums of working electricity and noises from the DCM.

“I zhink,” Wolfgang took a step back from the computer monitor, “I should retire for zhe nacht.” The German took off his glasses and rubbing his closed eyes. Es war eine mühsame Aufgabe, aber sie musste erledigt werden. “I’ve reprogrammed zhe system in order for it to catalog incoming Vells automatically.”

“I’ll keep my eye on it,” Sherloque piqued up, gesturing with his porcelain teacup to the DCM and subtly side glancing at you. Wolfgang only nodded at his doppelganger.

“Yeah, you should go rest. Sorry if it seemed like I was keeping you here,” you stood up and stretched, walking over to the German Wells.

“Nonsense, zhink of it as a favor to Harry,” Wolfgang waved off your statement. You offered your hand to the platinum-haired Wells which he shook gently before bidding your goodbyes to each other as he strode through the dimensional breach. Which reminds me. You scrunched your face and blinked a few times over then turned back to the seated detective.

“Sherloque, you don’t have to say here. You should go back home to Renee.”

“I- Comment puis-je lui dire? … Renee and I didn’t exactly work out. Encore.” You observed him as he set his teacup down, Sherloque chuckled sadly to himself. Je ne sais même pas pourquoi j’ai voulu recommencé ca va faire 8 fois.

“You deserve better. You really do, Sherloque. Love will find you.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“Hey, head up,” You found yourself sitting beside the now cynical man as you wrapped your arms around him in a comforting hug. “It could even literally run right into you one day when you least expect it. But it doesn’t mean you can run yourself ragged from sleep loss.” He sighed, shaking his head slightly and reciprocating the gesture of affection. You knew he had no problem with loving, it was the fact of having that love fully reciprocated without it becoming superficial.

“I cannot, I promised ‘arry I would not leave your side in zhe case zhat zhere would be some sort of delay on ‘is end.”

“He asked you to do that for me?”

“Oui”

“Do you think… something happened to him?”

“I wouldn’t worry. ‘e’s a capable and determined man, plus ‘e ‘as ‘is daughter wizh ‘im. Now come on, I believe zhe bozh of us deserve a change of scenery.”

“I’m feeling the need for Jitters coffee actually.”

You pulled said man off the couch and moved towards the direction of the door. Sherloque raised an eyebrow at you incredulously as he scrunched his nose in disgust at the prospect of coffee. “Coffee at zhis hour? Its 10 PM.”

“WHAT?”

“Well you’ve been on zhe Netflix entire time, peeping up every once and awhile to see if ‘arry come or not. I’m not surprised you lost track of time.”

“I guess I can drink some hot chocolate from the breakroom.”

“No need to get up,” Nash’s voice caused your head to snap up as he stepped into the Speed lab with a cup of hot chocolate in hand, “I figured you’ve had too much coffee in your clumsy existence within the past 12 hours.” In truth, Nash had made, dumped, and re-made hot chocolate 7 times in the past 2 hours because he had no idea on how you’d react when he’d make it. He had no idea why he impulsively decided to make one of your favorite drinks instead of letting you waste away at the prospect of coffee. The adventurer talked and scolded himself because you clearly don’t need him to help you out. You’re a capable, independent ditz after all with a war veteran of a boyfriend on the way. Although, Harry’s delay did ease the unsettling feeling in the pit of Nash’s stomach. Finally, the myth-buster had made a decision and added some peppermint extract to give it more flavor with some marshmallows. Fuck it, I’m going to do it anyway because… I secretly want to see her smile at me while it lasts. FuCk.

“I resent that statement, but I do thank you for the hot cocoa,” you hummed in contentment of the fresh brew. Nash saw the weight momentarily leave your shoulders and your body visibly relaxed. You saw him eye you oddly but chose to shake it off as you took another long sip. “Mm, I never got to ask, but have you met any vampires?”

“What?”

“Vampires. You said you weren’t one and I obviously know that, but I’m intrigued if you’ve encountered any on your travels through the multiverse. Cisco accidentally met one when he saved Breacher a year ago.”

“Do you always come up with bizarre questions to ask?” Nash poked your cheek as the three of you moved back to the couch. You batted his hand away. Sherloque baby blue eyes followed the banter between

“I don’t know if I should take it as a compliment or a criticism.”

“Take it as you will. I honestly don’t care.”

“Well?” You asked with furrowed eyebrows as you were seated in between Sherloque and Nash on the couch. You blinked a few times and shook your head a bit.

“Well, what?”

“Have you caused any trouble with any vampire?”

“Why is it that you think that I always cause trouble?” Nash countered your question with his own. He ignored the mockingly smug look on Sherloque’s face.

You shot Nash a look before retorting and Sherloque held in a laugh. “I’m not even going to answer that, Nash.” Nash stammered a bit before succumbing to that determined look on your face, the sparkles hidden in your eyes as they twinkled with curiosity.

“There was this one time-”

“-I knew it!-”

“-Would you let me finish before judging?” He lightly scolded you as you took another sip of your hot cocoa, your head started to throb against the hardness of your skull. “Anyway, before I was so rudely interrupted,” but you did not look in the least regretful, “this was before I met Maya. I had… overheard in a tavern on a dark Earth rumors of the Alexandrite Crown or better known in the dark legends as the Queen’s Crown. A crown thistled with alexandrite gems but infused with Thallium and Platinum. Poisonous according to the naturally occurring substances on that Earth.”

Nash continued painting the pictures to his adventure and his encounter with a Vampire Clan in a clash over the Alexandrite Crown and the mystical way of obtaining Chrysolite in order to cleanse it from the noxious spirit that’s locked away within. You hung onto each word as you pushed away the blurriness in your vision and the hazy state of your mind. With each second your head got heavier, feeling like lead and your eyes threatened to droop, but you needed this distraction from worrying about Harry’s wellbeing. Taking one deep breath, you shut your eyes as your body went out of commission. The geological adventurer breathed a sigh of relief, lowering his voice to a stop as your head gently lolled to the side, resting against Sherloque’s shoulder. Both men observed your breathing pattern relax to soft puffs of air.

“Sleeping powder, impressive and you even stalled until it took effect. Maybe zhere’s hope for you just yet,” Sherloque smugly spoke up as he readjusted you to rest your head onto his lap.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nash narrowed his blue irises at the detective.

“Non, nozhing. What else did you bring?”

“Huh? What-I didn’t-”

“I’m a detective Nash, I notice zhe most miniscule of things. Bring over zhe pillow and blanket you ‘ave ‘idden in zhe vacant room beside zhe corridor.”

“How did you…?”

“Skill, mon ami. Skill. Just because I’m not in your ‘ead does not mean zhat I cannot see zhrough your pure intentions.”

Nash sighed in defeat as he pulled up the blanket and pillow. He first covered you with a fluffy blanket, ensuring that he would not meet Sherloque’s eyes. “She gets cold when she falls asleep.”

“And zhe pillow?”

Nash handed his doppelganger the pillow, who placed it on his lap before setting your head on it to sleep comfortably. “You already know so I’m not going to even say anything.”

The detective quirked a teasing, but knowing eyebrow at the explorer, “Be honest wizh yourself, what prompted you to essentially drug her?”

“Okay, with the way you’re saying it, you’re sounding as if I’m going to do vile things to her. And you know what? I’m not going to even pretend to not be offended by that.”

“Well in reality you technically did drug her, but zhat’s beside zhe point.”

“She hasn’t been sleeping well. You know it. I know it. Hell, everyone on Team Flash noticed, but no one had the will to reprimand her to take a day to rest.”

“You mean ‘zhe ‘eart’ to.”

“Whatever!-”

“-Shh!-”

“-The little lady needed to sleep. She can’t be running herself ragged while making sure everyone around her stays safe and healthy.”

“Zhat’s very noble of you, Nash. C’est ironique, non? Elle ne peut pas être tienne mais tu ne peux pas t’empêcher de désirer quelque chose que tu ne peux pas avoir.” Ta logique t’a réprimandé pour avoir préféré profiter d’un instant avec tes amis. Tu vas devoir apprendre à t’en contenter.

“What did you just say?”

“Nozhing!” Sherloque just gave the other man a mysterious smile as he took off his fedora and tossed it onto a spare and vacant table on the side. “You know it’s nozhing to be ashamed of, right? Caring about ‘er and ‘er safety, zhat’s what zhis team does to a person. It doesn’t make you weak. You should know zhat by now.”

“…”

“You just need to know not to tip over zhe line.” Sherloque knew his doppelganger didn’t like being deduced, didn’t like his actions thoroughly analyzed to told what and how he was feeling. But sometimes, he needed a little push in the right direction by the detective in order to fully face the intentions behind his actions. That was one of Nash’s flaws. The ability to push aside all the pain and emotions behind current actions in a little box and thrown out the window in order to press on with the adventures that he lived on. Sherloque had discretely gone through some of his recent memories and noticed it occur with not just you and Allegra, but with the members of Team Flash as well.

“I know what I’m doing,”

“Zhen I believe you have some… patching up to do wizh a certain teenager.”

“She’s not a teenager, she’s a young adult.”

“All in zhe same wizh ‘ow she was acting.”

Nash left with a slight huff as he had every intention of turning in for the night, mentally contemplating a few things. Rubbing his eyes, the explorer took one glance back from where he stood in the corridor. He dismissed the skilled detective’s words, but yours had echoed in his mind. The detective reclined back on the couch, his own mind wandering in the depths of his own nightmares and regrets. He took one look at you before shaking his head. Sherloque smirked as his ears perked up to familiar sounds causing the detective to tilt his head back.

“Eh bien il était temps”

German and French Translation:

Deux - Two

Mh, une distraction semble être de mise - Hm, a distraction seems to be necessary right now

Il n’y a pas de mal à partager des histoires – There’s no harm in sharing some stories.

Qu’est ce qui retarde Harry? - What is taking Harry so long?

Comment puis-je lui dire? – How do I say this?

Encore – Again

Je ne sais même pas pourquoi j’ai voulu recommencé ca va faire 8 fois – I don’t know why I tried an 8th time.

C’est ironique, non? Elle ne peut pas être tienne mais tu ne peux pas t’empêcher de désirer quelque chose que tu ne peux pas avoir – It is ironic, no? Even though she cannot be yours your heart can’t help but to secretly desire something dangerous

Ta logique t’a réprimandé pour avoir préféré profiter d’un instant avec tes amis. Tu vas devoir apprendre à t’en contenter. – Your logical mind scolded you to relish with your friendship instead. Something you will have to learn to become content with.

Eh bien il était temps - Well it’s about time.

Mon Ami – My friend

Stück für Stück – Bit by bit

Es war eine mühsame Aufgabe, aber sie musste erledigt warden - It was a tedious task, but it needed to be done

Gott sei Dank bin ich es nicht – Thank God I didn’t

Schatz – sweetheart

Petit Fleur – Little Flower

[amethyst-noir]

Do you have any head canons for serious, hardcore Stephen angst? It seems so lacking in the fandom! Maybe, after Endgame (Tony lives AU) Stephen's mental health seriously deteriorates and after possibly 14000000 existences being in love with Tony (they're just acquaintances in their timeline), he uses a portal and Tony ends up with a delirious, crazed Doctor Strange in his workshop.

I’m horrible out of the loop concerning the latest WIPs in our corner of fandom - I’ve bookmarked at lot of them and now wait for the chance to read them. But it saddens me that there is a lack ofhardcore Stephen angst because that’s my favorite genre, along with h/c and a happy end.

I like your idea, anon! Very much! If you don’t mind I’ll keep it because now I kind of want to write a shortsnipped based on it. 💞

Back to your question - I have quitea few headcanons, actually. One of the ideas I had almost a year ago but put away because it’s sooo over the top goes as follows:

Stephen is a mental and physical wreck. The searching out of the one true timeline™ took a lot out of him and injured him on a soul-deep level and the fight against Thanos damaged his body pretty badly. The wounds have barely begun to heal but there is no rest forhim.

Thanos might be gone but now a lot of other, partly interdimensional threats, have woken up and started to pay attention to Earth. Stephen is the first in a very thin line of defense andhe’s ruining himself even further trying to stay on top of things but there is only so much even he can accomplish.

Wong - and the Rest of Kamar-Taj - do their best to help and support him but there’s no denying the fact that Stephen is the strongest and most inventive of all of them.

There has been no contact between Stephen and Tony since Thanos’ defeat since Tony exploded in his face afterwards because of pain and pent-up frustration. Stephen, of course, took itto heart and it hasn’t been helping his overall condition.

Tony, as soon as he had a little bit of time to process things and started thinking clearly again, felt bad for his harsh words but pride and the fact that he doesn’t know how to contact Stephen have kept them from meeting again so far.

A few months later “something” happens that’s so world-threatening that the current Avengers need all hands-on deck – including the retired Iron Man and all the magical help they can get. Stephen, of course, shows up himself. He’s not really himself and Tony is surprised at how quiet Stephen is and how he keeps in the background. The man barely manages to meet his eyes, for heaven’s sake, and only speaks up when directly spoken to. He’s distant and seems to be barely there. Tony is disappointed and forced to acknowledge that he missed Stephen’s particular kind of snark in his life and that maybe he was a little bit too harsh right after the dust hadn’t even settled on the battlefield.

They play hide-and-seek for a while because Stephen always vanishes the moment he can and seems to avoid Tony atall costs. Tony’s words have hurt him deeply, mostly because he knows that they are all true. He played with Infinity Stones and semi-gods, he doomed half the universe to death for 5 years and decades of grueling recovery now. He came out of 14.000.605 timelines deeply in love with Tony but every time he looks at him he’s reminded about what he did and how Tony condemned him for it. He half expects Tony to bring it up again, completely missing the signs that Tony wantsto talk to him one equal to another to try to sort through his complex mess of emotions and that there is not much if any anger left in him.

Tony realizes that Stephen isn’t well but before he can hunt the man down and ask questions the situation escalates into some big battle and Stephen uses most of his already very depleted reserves to help as best as he can. Nobody notices but FRIDAY, who isput on “watch the wizard” duty alerts Tony that Stephen’s life signs are slipping into the danger zone.

Tony searches for but doesn’t find Stephen, who has created a portal into the enemy’s lair to defeat the evil at its root. He knows that he’ll probably won’t return but really? He hasn’t got much time left anyway. Magic is burning up his body at an alarming rate and this is a good way to go out.

Tony, of course, finds the portal and follows Stephen into another dimension before he can talk himself out of it. He finds Stephen engaged with the enemy - Stephen isn’t holding back because he knows that this will be his last battle and so he can throw everything at that thing without thinking about keeping himself safe.

The display of sheer power is amazing and Tony, who comes in right in the middle, realizes just how insanely strong Stephen is. Despite that he swoops in to help Stephen. They work together flawlessly, just like they did on Titan, and manage to defeat theirenemy.

Stephen collapses immediately afterwards and so does the portal home. Now Tony is trapped in another dimension with an unconscious, possible dying, Stephen and no way home.

Tony manages to stabilize Stephen and is horrified when his scans reveal just how bad Stephen’s overall state of health is. He remembers the way Stephen hid from him and how he didn’t even manage to look into Tony’s eyes and fears that he’s part of the problem. He barely remembers what he screamed at Stephen back while Stephen took his words to heart and flagellated himself daily with them.

When Stephen finally sort-of wakes up he’s confused and panics when he sees Tony. It takes Tony a while to calm him down enough to explain the situation but Stephen’s too weak now to conjure a portal home. Tony swallows down the bitter words that want to escape and tells Stephen to rest and gather his strength.

“Just one more time,” he promises Stephen. “And then you can rest and recover.”

Stephen doesn’t say anything to that but his whole face makes it clear that there won’t be any rest for him until he drops dead. But he closes his eyes, turns his head away and pretends to fall asleep before Tony can react. Tony doesn’t say anything on the off-chance that Stephen really fell asleep. But he scoots just a little bit closer and retracts his armor fully so that their bodies can touch.

Stephen flinches a little bit, which breaks Tony’s heart, but he doesn’t move away. He falls into an exhausted sleep shortly afterwards and wakes up with Tony’s hand on his arm and the man sleeping. When he tries to extract himself Tony wakes up.

Stephen panics and moves away. He refuses any help and forces himself to his knees, conjuring a portal. “Here. A way home for you.” Go and leave me alone, is left unspoken but Tony hears it anyway. “I don’t know how long I can hold it open.” Stephen’s alreadyshowing signs of collapsing again and Tony is at his side, holding him upright, in a heartbeat.

“Not without you.”

But Stephen’s already lost consciousness again. Tony gathers all his courage and carries him through the collapsing portal back to Earth. His plan is to give Stephen over into Wong’s safe-keeping - and yell at the man for not taking better care of Stephen - but instead of the expected battlefield he finds himself back in the Sanctum. Stephen conjured a portal to his home in his pain and fear. The Cloak leavesStephen’s shoulders to show Tony the way to Stephen’s bedroom and Tony’s stuck with Stephensitting duty until someone else shows up.

There’s no way he’s letting Stephen go now, he realizes while he waits for Wong to come back and Stephen to wake up. He only has to make Stephen understand that he doesn’t hate him and that he’s sorry for what he said back then.

Eventually, Wong shows up and Tonydiscovers just what a wreck Stephen really is. Wong sees how Tony looks at Stephen and his anger towards Tony vanishes completely when Tony tells him about what they went through.

Over the next few days and weeks, while Stephen is mostly sleeping and not really coherent when he’s awake, Wong and Tony devise plans on how to make Stephen’s burden lighter. Stephen needs someone to take care of him in a way Wong simply can’t and Tony loves nothing more than to take care of people while Stephen needs someone to take care of him. Someone who will make him his number one priority in life.

Tony can be that person, Wong realizes to his delight. No, Stephen doesn’t get a vote, they both decide, because he’s an idiot who’ll rather die than ask for help. Literally.

When Stephen’s finally awake enough to get what’s going on he has to discover that Tony fucking Stark more or less moved into the bedroom next to his and that he’s now benched from his duties as Sorcerer Supreme until Wong finds him fit for duty again.

He forgets all about being pissed because Tony proceeds to heap tons of attention on him and it quickly becomesclear just how compatible the two of them are. Tony tells Stephen over and over again how sorry he is and that he didn’t mean the things he said back then, that he was hurting and exhausted and begs for Stephen’s forgiveness on a daily basis while showing him casual affection that gradually becomes more and more intimate.

Stephen slowly begins to heal but the road to full recovery - or as full as he’s capable of - will be long. He still can’t quite believe that Tony will never leave, no matter what the man himself says.

Tony is by now just as much in love with Stephen as Stephen is with him. He doesn’t say anything because he realizes that Stephen’s not ready to hear and believe it yet. So he stays, takes care of Stephen and tries to show him that he’s worthy of love and affection.

The whole story ends when they finally share their first kiss after weeks if not months of mutual pining and slow recovery, with Stephen in Tony’s arms. Where he belongs.

💫

I think it’s crystal clear why I never wrote the actual fic version of this thing, right? 🤣 But hey, you wanted angst, anon, and angst you shall have…

[megalony]

From the end- Part 1

This is a new Ben Hardy series which I had an idea for which I hope you all will like.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @luvborhap @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction

Summary: Ben goes to (Y/n) for therapy, for an evaluation where he tells the story that brought him here. As (Y/n) delves deeper into his story, she finds herself entranced by the actor who is more than meets the eye.

Ben Hardy masterlist

Series masterlist

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Can you tell me why you're here?"

What was his reason for sitting in her office today? Why had he booked these sessions- did Ben even book them himself or was someone forcing him to be here? What was his reasoning, his state of mind, his logic, who was he and what was he like?

Ben let his fingers skim over his bruised and broken knuckles as his eyes moved from looking down at his hands to looking at the woman sitting in front of him. He found himself analysing her as if their roles had been switched around. She had one leg crossed over the other, a deep midnight blue notebook with stars on the cover sitting on her leg. A biro pen in her hand, tapping the end ever so quietly against the very corner of the paper so quietly that Ben almost didn't hear it.

She was sitting in a black leather armchair that was worn and beginning to tear on the arms. A glass coffee table was sitting between them, holding her cup of tea and his glass of water. Her elbow was resting in front of a sap green folder which Ben knew contained the files and notes on him that she had received before he came here.

"Evaluation. So you can tell if I'm okay or not... up here." Ben let his elbows rest on his knees which caused his spine to curve forwards. His index finger tapped at the side of his temple as he wore the slightest look of a grin on his features that made (Y/n)'s head spin. He spoke as if he thought he was mad but at the same time knew he wasn't. He hunched over in a manner that told her he was holding himself together but trying to be defensive at the same time. His eyes were glass marbles that were old before their time but still managed to pierce her own in a way that she had never seen before.

"So what happened, Ben? What happened for you to need to come here for an evaluation?"

Ben liked her voice. He liked how it was smooth as silk and calm as if she was talking to a friend about their day. A tone which he guessed she adopted and worked on hard as not to phase herself or the people she had to talk to. He had seen her reputation. Evaluating people accused of crimes or people who clearly were not always alone in their heads was something that he would never be able to do. It was something that required a tone that would not upset anyone. A tone that wouldn't give away when she was scared, broken or even happy. It was a tone that always had to be set into neutral, a work voice that wouldn't be taken home with her.

Her mind would have to be set into motion when she was here, he guessed. She had to calculate her words to get the answers she wanted, to be able to pull out the responses that would tell her how the person's mind worked. So she could disect their heads without them knowing.

She was using him as much as he was here to use her.

He would use her for help, for security and to get himself back together again like she was the glue that would keep his broken pieces intact. She would use him for the notes, for the ability to slip into his head and see how it worked on the inside. She would gather the information she needed from him because it was her job. She could tell him she was here to help him all she wanted but she had her own reasons behind this job. Maybe there was a satisfaction of being able to decipher if someone was insane, well within their sanity or just to help someone get back on track. Maybe she was satisfied with giving companies or lawyers the answers they needed. Maybe it was just the pay packet that came with it.

"Car crash."

Ben's lips curved at the corners from the smile on her lips that showed she would need more information than that. She would need the proper reason, not a small snapshot at his reason for being here. Her brow raised in something that looked like amusement but was also a question.

"Come on, Ben. I'd be rushed off my feet if everyone in a car crash came to me for an evaluation. Why are you really here?"

(Y/n) set the pen down on the table as she slowly uncrossed her legs, her arms folding to rest on her legs as she leaned forward in the same manner Ben was. Their stances were different as he was more hunched over as if he was ready to confess his sins. (Y/n) was leaning forward with intrigue as she wanted answers. Her curiosity was something that made the job all the more worth it. This was a game to them both. This was a game to her to find out the answers that were pieces of a puzzle she needed to fit together.

Ben was the one who held all the pieces, he was the one who had the power to give her the answers she was looking for.

It wasn't his choice to be here but he wasn't protesting. He wasn't sitting in silence or telling her lies, he was answering in his own way because he wanted to. He wasn't one to sit and plainly tell a story and this was a story that didn't hold a happy ending. This was a story that he had lived but not by choice. Why should he tell the story?

"Here for my evaluation, I can't work without it."

Ben couldn't start a new contract for a movie or show unless he had an evaluation. No one could take risks anymore, if Ben was under stress, if his mind was breaking or if he wasn't coping, they weren't going to take him on. An evaluation that told his manager that he was fine would let him go back to work. An evaluation telling them that Ben was unstable in any way would tell them that they had to get him help or dump him.

This was an agreement between more than just Ben and (Y/n). This was an agreement that Ben came to sessions. He came, he talked, he got assessed and within two weeks (Y/n) could tell them what she thought. If she thought he was stable enough she could sign him off. If she thought he was unstable she could take him as her 'project' and give him therapy. If (Y/n) thought Ben was stable for work but needed to talk, to let his emotions out, she could still take him on. And Ben was free to walk away at any point at the cost of either not getting a job or his mental state deteriorating.

This was an agreement between Ben and his manager to get him better. This was an agreement between (Y/n) and Ben's employer and a judge to get him well or send him on for any sort of help he needed.

"Evaluations work in different ways, I'll tell you how mine works. My evaluation can't work if I'm simply told you are here, I already know you're here, I can see you very well. So you talk, and I listen. You tell me why your manager is so keen for you to be helped, you tell me the story and I assess how bad your mind is affected by these events or if you are completely stable. Does that sound good to you?"

(Y/n) was used to tricky patients. There had not been one person in four years who walked through the door, sat down and told her the story from beginning to end with no fabrications in between. No one had sat down without hesitation and started talking. Work needed to be done, trust needed to be built upon. They needed to work together for this and now Ben knew the way it was going to go, he had to do his part.

Ben pressed his lips into a line that curved more to one side than in the middle of his face. He lowered his head but lifted his eyes to see (Y/n) through his hooded lashes. He observed her like she was the prey he was about to pounce on. He watched her in a way that showed the wheels in his mind turning and spinning, bouncing off one another in attempts to spark thoughts and ideas. He watched her like he was reversing their roles around to make (Y/n) the assessment and him the assessor.

No one had ever looked at her in that way before. Then again, no one like Ben had ever entered her office before.

She had seen his interviews, his films and tv shows on occasion if they were on tv. She studied his interviews to get a feel of who she was going to be talking to, but whoever she had observed was not sitting in front of her today. There was no laugh leaving his lips, there was no smile curving onto his features. He was not talking like he was a man of the people, a down to Earth person who understood and wanted to fit in. He was not joking or playing a part in front of her. He was a different side to Ben that (Y/n) doubted anyone else had ever seen before.

"Alright, Ben, this is how we can play this. Right here, in this office, you are starting a different story, the new you. So, whatever happened to bring the new you here is book one. Tell me your story, tell me book one, but from the end. Tell me the end of the story which brought you here, and then lead me through to your beginning."

Some people liked to play games, some people liked to tell stories. They told their story of why they came to (Y/n)'s office as if they were a narrator and their story was simply a character in a play. Some people did points, (Y/n) asked questions and they got points for giving a straight answer. Others spoke in riddles. Ben was not some people.

Ben would tell his story, he wouldn't fabricate a character to play or make this into a game. But telling a story was never easy, who knew where the actual beginning was and where it ended? Who knew what the important points were that they should tell and what was classified as unimportant? (Y/n) had told Ben the ending, the ending was the pivotal point that brought Ben here, which she seemed to think would be the car crash he had been in. The beginning was the point in his story where everything slotted into place for (Y/n). It was where she looked at the puzzle and found no missing piece even if there was more background history to the puzzle.

Ben could start from the freshest memories and work his way to give her the story.

"The end of my story was when I was in the car." Ben started, his head nodding with his words as he knew that this was the last chapter of his book. That was when he was brought here, that was his reason for being here.

"Was you driving the car?" There it was. The methodical, calculated voice that was prodding for information. That wasn't the voice she used to tell him how to play this, that voice had been demanding yet calm, playful yet knowing. This was different.

"Yeah."

"And... were you alone in the car?"

"No, but I was the one who got out. She wasn't so lucky." The words were ones that contradicted the voice they were spoken in. The words were more joking, more rude as if Ben was pleased or he was joking about the fact that someone had died and he didn't. But his tone was one that showed he wasn't happy to have been in an accident where someone died, where he had lived.

"Do you believe in luck? Do you think you lived for a reason?"

Ben was no longer hunched over. His frame was straight, spine pressed against the back of the soft sofa he had been perched on for a while now. His eyes burnt into the girl's who was sitting in front of him as he seemed to dampen as if he was going to cry.

"I've never believed in luck. But I think karma has something to it. I lived because I deserved to, she didn't."

[harringtons-writer]

Ridicule You

Requested: YESSS!! :)

1) Alriiight what about a request for Bandersnatch in which the reader (preferably female) works at Tuckersoft and somehow gets off on the wrong foot with Stefan when he first goes there, and they both hate each other for a while until she realizes just how bad he looks as his mental health is deteriorating and decides to put their conflict aside to check up on him and maybe it just kind of leads on to them becoming friends and eventually developing a crush on one another?

Pairing: Stefan Butler x reader (Romantic) + Colin Ritman (friendship) + Mr Thakur (boss)  

Word count: 1386

Warning(s): Maybe some swear words along the fighting. I know I went a little out of character (in a cocky way) with Stefan but I had to for this concept. 

Summary: When Stefan steals away your chance to be a game developer at Tuckersoft, you and he get into a heated argument and you try to avoid the boy but you realise something is clearly off. 

A/n: ugh, that was very hard writing such hateful things to Stefan but I secretly liked it, oef but in the end, everything turned out great! hope you like it! ;) 

(Not my Gif)

“What the fuck?” You slammed the coffee machine. “Calm down, Y/N,” You reassured yourself, it was your first day at Tuckersoft and you had to prove yourself to Mr Thakur. You originally had applied for a job as a video game-developer but you were unlucky. A boy, named Stefan Butler had walked in that same day as you with a video game idea called ‘Bandersnatch’ and Thakur loved it.

“Y/N, sweetheart, your idea marvellous too but aren’t you interested in a job as coffee lady till Stefan’ game comes out, maybe afterwards we can work on yours,” You were disappointed but your dream to work at Tuckersoft hadn’t miraculously faded away. “I would love to,” You forced yourself to smile. "Then you are hired," after their eyes gazes fell back on the screen, the smile dropped straight away. You walked out of the office not really sure what you were supposed to do now. 

“Oh, that sucks,” Somehow you found your way to Colin's work desk. “A coffee lady, we had many of those,” he admitted. “Never as good looking as you,” Colin was impressed by your calmness, everyone here had a certain image of him but you just sat on his desk to complain. “It’s just for that Stefan boy that I didn’t get the job, I mean he is good, not going to lie but is he that good?” You sighed. “And if he is, couldn't he waited just one more day,” Colin nodded feeling sorry for you. 

You had written down the order of the entire office besides Stefan's, he could get his stupid coffee himself and walked to the cafeteria. "My little office," You told yourself before you started the first coffee. You were still young and didn’t have much experience with a coffee machine. “SHIT!” boiling hot liquid flowed over your hand. “Auw! Auw! Auw!” You sprinted to the sink as you let lukewarm water cool the burn. 

Stefan had seen the fiasco and had a hard time hiding his little grin on his lips as he stood next to you. “One thee please,” He tapped the counter. You shot him a dirty look not being able to hide your hatred feeling towards him any longer and so what Mr was nowhere to be seen “I’m only supposed to make coffee for employers and as you said yourself you want to work on the game at home, what are you still doing here?” You wiped away the rest of the coffee stains, you didn’t think it was worth giving the thief another look. “Grabbing a drink to celebrate that I can actually do the game?” Stefan raised an eyebrow making you madder, that snarky comment didn't do good. 

"You yourself centred prick!" You knew having an argument with Thukur’s favourite new wizzkid in the middle of the office wasn’t a good move to start with but at this point, you didn’t even care anymore. “You really think I’m going to kiss your ass after this?” You slammed one of the coffee cups down on the table as a result of which coffee flew into the air and partly on Stefan. “You know you need to clean up that mess, right?” You completely lost it. “You’ve got what belongs to me! And here you are cocky rubbing it in, having fun seeing the tears whelm my eyes,” You grabbed Stefan's shirt tightly. In the heat of the moment, Colin must have heard you two arguing as he walked by sticking his head in, seeing the situation the pair of you were in, started whistling, giving a quick wink before kicking the door shut with his foot. “Thakur liked my game better!” Stefan's nose was almost touching yours. “That’s not even true!” You shouted in defence. 

A few coffees later, you were finally done. you handed them out and then walked over to Mr Thakur's desk. He called Stefan and you in his office after he found out the two of you had a heated moment in the cafeteria. “If you want to fire me, I won’t complain,” Thakur nodded no. “I’ve learned to give everyone a second chance through the years and we really need you here, Colin could use some help with coding while Stefan works on ‘Bandersnatch’ at home, so the two of you hardly have to see each other,” Thakur pointed at the door “Go now,” you both jumped up running for the door, pushing each other out of the way. 

Days, even weeks past, Colin and you finished coding ‘Nohzdyve’ and it was off to the shops. You were sitting on Colin’s desk expressing how happy you were when Stefan walked in coughing, it was the day he had to deliver the demo, now the last time you saw the boy you observed him well since you almost stood nose to nose. At the time he looked ‘good’ but now had swollen eyelids and bags under his eyes, he had crusts around his lips and it looked as if he was wearing the same clothes than the last time he was at Tuckersoft. 

You looked down whispering “Good luck loser,” Colin chuckled at your remark. After all, this could be the new success of Tuckersoft, your workplace as you slowly became fond of the people that came with it. Thakur invited Colin in being the head coder and you gave him a thumbs up. You could see Thakur walking small circles around the Office while Stefan tried fixing the bug. You wished it was your game shining on the computer screen but you still crossed your fingers. ‘Nohzdyve’ was Tuckersofts newest game as Colin did a great job but Christmas was coming up and Tuckersoft could use the extra boost. You startled from your daydream when they walked out of the office “Just the weekend,” Thakur noted before Stefan could escape the room, the worried look on Stefan's face quickly copied on yours.  

“Anyone heard from the Wizzkid?” Colin and you nodded no. “I’ll give him a call,” Thakur groaned annoyed. “Stefan is it ready?” Thakur's voice raised. You heard Stefan muted voice through the phone "Almost, another path and I'm ready," Thakur sighed “Just leave it,” Thakur rolled his eyes. “No, It has to be completely done!” Stefan hung up. 

Something was up, you could feel it. “Someone needs to check on him,” Thakur waited for Colin to jump up but you did. “I’ll do it,” You were almost out of the door when Colin stopped you. “Are you sure?” He looked at you if you were crazy. “If he’s failing, I want to see!” You winked before running off. 

Stefan’s father had let you in, you walked upstairs knocking on his door. “yes,” he hummed. “What the hell?” You questioned seeing the state of his room. That was slightly expressed when you saw Stefan's face. Stefan’s left eye was twitching, he was talking nonsense about a secret path. You gave him a questioned look as he was hastily looking around his room as if someone was about to attack him anytime. “Can you please just leave,” Stefan blew out. “No, how is Bandersnatch?” He busted out in anger. “Not good, okay,” you walked over to his desk “I’m not here to ridicule you,” You shoved a few papers and books aside and sat on it. “I’m here to help,” 

after a whole lot more of shouting, you both agreed that you could stay over the night to finish ‘Bandersnatch’. Through the night you had found many similarities. In the beginning, it was confusing, it started with small chuckles but a few hours later you had pain in your lower abdomen from laughing. “Stefan mate, just press enter,” You giggled as he looked at the numbers and letters. “It’s that simple,” You hovered over him. 

Somehow you both passed out on Stefan’s bed early in the morning, your head was resting on Stefan's chest as his arms wrapped around your waist and legs intertwined. Suddenly there was a beam of light shining in your face. “Stefa-,” You jumped up, in shock seeing Colin’s face. “Well, Well, Well,” Colin smirked.

“Busted, so it was all sexual tension back at the office,” you hated to admit it but oh, did you start to develop a crush on this boy. 

[realityhelixcreates]

Lasabrjotr Chapter 21: What Only Lives in Memory

Chapters: 21/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Warnings: Mention of past sexual assault, Mention of past murder Relationships: Loki x Reader (Let’s try this again) Characters: Loki (Marvel), Reader, Brunnhilde(Marvel),  Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Here Comes Self-Reflection, Reader Had a Rough Time During the Snap, Loki Tries to Figure Himself Out Summary: Loki moves things forward, while reader reveals the past.

“Hey! Hey, you kidnapping bastard! Give me my daughter back, asshole!”

“That's about the reaction I expected, yes.” Loki said, holding on to his composure in the face of your enraged father. He was an entire ocean away, and merely a mortal man of no consequence, but there was still some intimidation involved. Loki wanted a favor from this man; information. Also, there was something...important, about not being hated by your father, specifically. “Alas, I cannot. It's isn't safe for her, I'm afraid. Her health would deteriorate once more.”

“Yeah, the spandex squad said the same thing. They said it was some kind of magic? Sounds like bullshit to me.”

“You have lived through invasions by both extraterrestrials, and robots, yet you find magic difficult to believe in?” Loki pointed out.

“Yeah, well, you can punch an alien or a robot.”

“I dare say, one can punch a sorcerer as well.”

“Oho? She's been throwing hands?”

Loki cleared his throat. “Your daughter has been...most emphatic on several points.”

Your father drew himself up with pride. “Good. You best listen. And you'd damn well better be treating her right!”

“Actually, that is why I wished to speak with you. I would like advice on how to treat her more properly. Specifically, I will be remodeling her room into a more permanent residence, and I wish to know what kind of things she likes to have in her home.”

Your father remained quiet for a few long moments.

“So she's really not coming back.” He said finally. “Damn. I know all girls eventually leave, but she just seemed happy where she was...” He sighed. “Okay, fine. If it's gotta be up to you to take care of her now, then listen up. She likes doodlin' so get her some art supplies. She likes them little fairy lights. If you're getting her decorative things, she likes birds, and seashells, and flowers. No pets. She doesn't like having little things underfoot. Get her some houseplants, but only if they have bright colors, or make flowers.”

“How about toiletries? Does she have a preference?”

“Eh, more flowery stuff. Whatever's on sale, usually, but you can do better than that, can't you? The most flowery stuff you can find. Candles or potpourri, or whatever. Uh, she likes Pokemon. Don't know how much that helps you.”

“It would help me more if I knew what that was, but I'm sure I can find out.”

“It's some video game about fantasy animals. It's easy to find. Oh, and she likes space too. Stars and constellations and stuff. Likes learnin' about what's out there.”

“Oh, I know.” Loki said, perhaps a little too confidently. Your father glared. “But not too well.” He added. “Space. It is a good subject. There is much out there.”

Silence stretched out uncomfortably.

“How is she, really?” Your father asked.

“Distressed. That is why I am doing this. A great many things have happened to her in too short a time, so I am attempting to counter them with comfort. Her illness has all but disappeared, but we must remain within a mile or so of one another, and cannot be separated for more than a few hours at that distance before she begins to deteriorate. Were you told of the assassin?”

“Yeah. I was told she wasn't badly hurt, and that you caught the bastard.”

“Correct on both counts. She suffered a cut, but it has healed completely, and he will be facing justice eventually. I may still curse him into an early grave though, no matter what his sentence ends up being. Hmm. Perhaps forget I said that.”

“Nah, no one's hearing a peep from me.” Your father fidgeted as a gray cat peeked its head into the screen. “No Momo! Get down from there. Hey look, if she's gotta stay with you from now on, there's some things you oughta know. She's got some...problems. There were some major health issues that ran in her mother's side of the family; brain tumors mostly. Took her mom and her aunt while she was still pretty young. She hadn't shown any signs of it, but two or so years ago, she had this weird episode...Started insisting that everyone was dead, and the world was ending. The doctor didn't find any evidence of tumors, but said she was acting like someone who had gone through some kind of traumatic experience. No one could figure out what happened. She was fine one day, and the next, she'd completely changed. Got way more aggressive, kinda obsessed with food, has panic attacks over some of the weirdest things. And whenever something bad happens, she goes from one hundred percent ready to fight, to meek and numb in seconds.”

“I...have observed some of those behaviors, yes.” So this was what it looked like from the outside. Someone who had survived the Snap and remembered it must seem to others as if some great change had come over them. An entire year lived like that would not leave someone the same as they had been before. It was a shame Loki could not tell him what had happened. That your father would never understand you like he did. That he didn't even truly understand you.

You were just about as alone in this world as he was, weren't you?

“So if you've got some kind of magic health care over there, just keep an eye on her brain, okay?”

“As you say. I shall keep a special watch over her mind. I appreciate you telling me this. All of this. It will be most helpful.”

“Yeah well, as long as you take good care of her, I can't complain. Still hate you though.”

Loki smiled smugly. “I would expect nothing else.”

                                                                             *****

Loki spent his time between meetings searching through various storage rooms for furnishings. He'd found a very nice rug; blue and green and silver, patterned with knotwork and ravens. Bedding was a bit more difficult: you felt the cold more keenly, and needed either more, or heavier blankets. He was having trouble finding good matches, however. He didn't just want to throw things together like some kind of motley. You weren't a peasant anymore, and you should have better.

But just for now, maybe the brick red bed set didn't clash with the green and blue that much?

In the end, he was able to gather plenty of  bird-themed items, mostly ravens, eagles, and swans, and no shortage of floral décor. He commissioned a space-themed mural for one of your walls, though he knew it would take several weeks to finish. There were very few seashells to be had, but he did manage to procure a small hand mirror that was shaped like a scallop.

Perhaps this would do for now?

He called for Saldis and two others to carry things back you your room, stood back and supervised while they laid things out. Fairy lights and Pokemon would have to wait until he figured out what they were, and where he could get them.

As the servants put everything into place, Loki was drawn to your desk, and the little stack of books there. Astronomy, of course. That made perfect sense. A history of Iceland. Good idea. The collected tragedies of Shakespeare. Good stories, all of them, but perhaps not the best reading material for someone of your delicate mental state. Ah, there it was. World mythology.

Brunnhilde said you had mentioned something about a mythology book that had led you to believe some mixed up things. Well, what did it say?

He picked up the book, leafing through it as the servants moved around him, hanging artworks on the blank walls, a pair of flower-themed lamps replacing the old one, rolling out the rug.

The temperature began to fall while he read the entry about himself, stone-faced, but radiating a quiet anger that everyone in the room could feel. The servants slowly came to a halt, staring at him in silent worry.

“Sire?” One of them finally asked, her voice barely above a whisper. His eyes snapped up from the book to look at them, and all three flinched back.

“You.” He said, pointing. “And you. Out.”

Both women hurried for the door, throwing apologetic looks over their shoulders at Saldis, who stood in place, bewildered and a little frightened.

“Saldis...Odasdottir, was it?”

“Yes, your Highness!” She squeaked.

“You can speak English.”

“Yes, your Highness! Fluently, Your Highness!”

“A useful skill. More importantly, can you read English? I trust you know not to lie to me.”

“No, Your Highness! No more than a few words! I have Roskva translate for me!”

“I see.” He snapped the book shut with a loud clap.”So you know nothing of the contents of this book?”

“No, Your Highness! Seidkona _____ asked for English language books, so I just brought back all that the library had! I don't know what any of them are about!”

“This one is full of slander.” Loki seethed. Saldis began backing away. “Written by our enemies to defame us, clearly. I will be confiscating it.”

Saldis began stammering apologies, but Loki held up a single finger to silence her. There were no lies in what she said. She was no saboteur.“If you did not know, you cannot be blamed. However, I would be alone for a time.”

She took the dismissal for what it was, vacating the room in an undisguised hurry. Loki could just barely hear Andsvarr asking her what was wrong, as he stalked to his room and threw the book into the fireplace. Drivel! A poison of words, pouring into your eyes, into your mind. No wonder you were so frightened!

God of Evil? Ridiculous! Evil wasn't something one could be a god of; it was a nebulous concept that changed from culture to culture, and across time. Anyone was capable of it, but none could rule it. And that nonsense with the horse... He didn't even know anyone named Angrboda! Where had all that come from?

He had been to Midgard once before New York, when he was a child, long before these concrete forests had sprung up in the place of the wooden ones. It had seemed like a very different world then, the storytellers weaving magic into their tales, spinning their words into decorative knots. He'd learned of the concepts of kennings and flyting from them...Was this what they had seen in him, or did it have some symbolic meaning, lost over the centuries? Did they see him as evil?

Or was it what had happened after? The burying of the old ways under the name of another god? Was that what had painted him in such a dark way? Or perhaps the author of the book had written it after the events in New York. Humanity had plenty of reason to consider him evil then, and a great many still did.

It didn't really matter right now. What mattered was that this had been influencing your perceptions of him, and now he had to reverse that. The room would be a very good start, a step in making this a real, permanent home for you. He would find out everything you needed, everything you wanted. He was a prince. He was a god! He could provide.

He sat down on his fluffy rug, watching the book slowly blacken and curl. It did matter. It mattered because it was part of the reason you weren't here. And he felt it now, now that you were gone, every minute making him more and more aware that you weren't there. There was a little, human shaped hole in the world, that only you fit into, and you were out of place.

When had you become important? He could no longer deny that you were. Honesty with the self was among the coping exercises he and Thor had had to adopt, once they realized that they absolutely had to be in this together. It was quite possibly one of the hardest things for him to do, to admit everything to himself, to open himself back up to all the emotion.

In the beginning, after he had been returned from death, all his walls had come down. Those had been hard times; he was nearly inconsolable, everything he had been through in such a short time was all there, up front. All the grieving he hadn't been able to do, all the anger and resentment, the self-loathing and loss of identity. Everything he'd never gotten the chance to heal from had all come down on him, all at once, and he'd thought he'd never stop crying again.

But once he had been given the chance to confront all those things, to work through them, to finally, properly mourn, when he'd put himself back together, and run dry of tears-and when Thor had done the same-that was when they had both decided to take the steps necessary to be better than they had been. For the people. For each other. And for themselves.

Communication with the self was easily just as difficult as communication with each other. Neither of them exactly had the hang of it yet, and it led them to mistakes like this. Mistakes like Loki believing that everything was just fine between you and himself because he wanted so badly to believe that it was. Tricking himself into thinking that your actions and reactions were those of a person in need of support and comfort from him, instead of a person who was afraid of him.

Five years ago, he would have seen it for exactly what it was, but he had been trying so hard to leave that version of himself in the past, where it belonged. He needed to be better now.

He needed to admit that you were important. He needed to understand why. You represented something to him; some kind of redemption. If he could take care of you, he could prove something to everyone, including himself. What was that thing? What did he need to prove? That he could be responsible?

That he was what he said he was. That he was worthy of being what he said he was. A Prince. A Ruler. A Leader. A Provider. A Man.

Not a monster.

He could give you everything. And he felt that you might even deserve it, you who had lost your mother, and then your world, and then your health, and then your autonomy. He could give you everything, and he kind of wanted to. But he had to step back now and take a different approach. It had to be for you, as much as it was for him.

He watched the book burn until it was an unrecognizable lump, thinking of ways to be better for you. Then he left his quarters in search of his brother. He had an idea that would set at least some of your fears at ease.

He passed Brunnhilde on the way, the Valkyrie carrying a sandwich on a plate. He stopped, then followed her.

“Is that for her?” He asked. “Because she hates that.”

“What? Well then what does she like?” Brunnhilde demanded. Loki listed a few things off the top of his head, and Brunnhilde headed back to the kitchen. “Guess I'll eat this one then. Heard you terrorized some of the maids.”

“I suspected one of them might be a saboteur. I was glad to find otherwise. I discovered a source of _____'s fear. That book you said she mentioned; I found it and I destroyed it. It will trouble none of us again.”

“That might not look good, you know. Might look like you're trying to destroy the evidence.”

“What evidence?” He sneered. “It was worthless. It was...do you even know what it said? It was like a parody, and it was deceiving her. I will find her other books.”

“You can't just curate her reading material you know.” Brunnhilde said, making another sandwich. “Not if you don't want to seem so controlling.”

Loki added a cup of skyr to the plate, and a spoon of redcurrant jam on top. “I'm not going to. I'm thinking of taking her into the nearest town, and visiting a bookstore. She can choose her own books, and not be stuck reading the same few over and over. I've already seen to her room, and so all that's left is to let her get some things of her own choice.”

Brunnhilde nodded. “That's better.”

“So, how are the Valkyries coming along? You mentioned a Buridag demonstration?” Loki asked, following her back out of the kitchens.

“About as well as can be expected for only having a year of training. There's a lot of work to be done, catching them all up. Lucky for us, most of them naturally gravitated towards combat lifestyles. The twins have a long way to go though.”

“Twins?”

“Valda and Velda. They're only about three hundred years old. They're having to start from scratch, but I can see the power in them. They're the real deal. They are also tiny children who can barely lift their own swords, and definitely can't wear armor. We can't have a demonstration without them, but there isn't much they can physically do. Maybe if I play up how important standard-bearing is, they won't put up a fuss.”

“One can hope.” Loki said with a smile. “Sibling rivalry can be a tough thing to navigate.”

“They get along well. Just because you and your brother had a rivalry for the storybooks, it doesn't mean everybody does. Speaking of, did Saga ever get back to you?”

“Yes. She's chosen fully sixteen texts to translate, and she will be doing each of them in seven languages. She's so happy. I was thinking of asking her to expedite the English translations, but I wonder if that isn't a little too selfish.”

“Well, technically, you're thinking of someone else, so it isn't 'selfish' exactly...” They stopped outside Brunnhilde's rooms. “Well, your Highness. You have some work to do, and I have some mouths to feed, so here is where we part.”

                                                                     *****

“Dinnertime!” Brunnhilde announced, and you hopped up to receive it. Everything looked very tasty this time, and you tucked in without preamble. You'd worked pretty hard again today, not quite as hard as when you were practicing magic, but hard enough. The bath had been wonderfully relaxing on your sore muscles, but had done nothing for your appetite.

You should exercise now, eh? Surely this was a good start.

“So...” Brunnhilde said. “You're not a good liar.”

“Hrm?” You asked around a bite of sandwich.

“Whatever you told Borgljot, you've been in combat before.”

“Mrm.” You said, swallowing your bite. “Well, about that...I don't know if I would call it combat exactly...and besides, I didn't lie.”

“Oh? Oh. Because it technically didn't happen?”

“Yeah. Things went to hell during the Event, you know that. I can't imagine it was a walk in the park for you either.”

“Wasn't great. You wanna talk about it?”

You stopped eating. “I never have before.”

“You never had someone who believed you before either, did you?”

“Sure didn't.” You said quietly. “It's just, you know, everyone went a little crazy I think. You can't face a devastation like that and stay totally sane. And nobody really knew what to do. The guys were a pain in my ass, but there was this one guy specifically...his wife and kid turned to dust in his arms, and I think he just went completely insane. But quietly; no one noticed. He was always very nice to me, and normally, he wouldn't hurt a fly, but...he kinda started fixating on me.”

Everywhere you were, there he was. Being helpful. Complimentary. Said you reminded him of her.

“At first I thought it was a good thing. It kept the other guys from bugging me too much. See, out of three hundred and forty of us, only about sixty-seven made it through the Event, and only about a third of those were women. Some of those guys didn't even try to pretend that they weren't being predatory. But he kept the others away, and I appreciated it. For a while.”

Never saying anything creepy, but simply always being there, always ready to help out. You never found out how he scared the other men away.

“We had to try to keep farming in order to survive, but half the seeds had turned to dust too. We probably would have been okay, if the fields hadn't died, but we had almost nothing. Everyone was desperate. I was in charge of the potatoes. Had a good patch of them growing out in the East fields. One day, when I went out to tend to them, he followed me. Guess he just...finally hit that breaking point. Came onto me, using her name. When I told him off, he full-on attacked me.”

Mad-eyed, tearing at your clothes, sobbing and crying a dead woman's name.

“He wouldn't stop, so...”

Panic gave you the strength to knock him to the ground, desperation gave you the instinct to bring the sharp edge of your garden hoe down on his head.

“So I killed him. Chopped his head in half. I know what that looks like now.”

You didn't know when you had started trembling, but it was making your voice quiver.

“You were defending yourself.” Bunnhilde said. “It's a terrible, harsh edge of reality, and a shame that you had to see it. But you came through. Not gonna say it's okay, because it's not. But you came through.”

“It's...I think my problem is that I don't even think that's the worst part.” You said. “It's that, technically, it never happened. He's fine now. He's alive, his wife, his kids, all alive and well, and going about their lives. He's just like I remember him from before it all happened; sweet and harmless. He comes in to the bakery sometimes, after our cornbread. I'm sure he worries about me, because that's just the kind of person he is.”

“Well that's-”

“I hate him.” You interrupted. “I hate him so much. I should be glad that it all got erased. I should be glad that he's not a predator, and that I'm not a murderer. But I'm just so angry! He gets to have his family, and his sanity, and his life, and go happily about his business, and I have to remember what he did! What I did! It's horrible, isn't it? I shouldn't feel like this!”

“Honestly? I feel like it would be more wrong if you didn't.” Brunnhilde reached across the distance to take your hand. “None of this should be easy to accept. How long ago was it, that Thor crashed on this planet? Seven? That's seven years for your whole world to realize that there's more people out in the universe, get attacked by those other people, get nearly wiped out by one of those other people. Then a small percentage of you has to find out that even reality itself can be malleable. And then on top of that, you, individually, have to deal with mans inhumanity to man, and that is all a terrible burden to put on such small, human shoulders.”

“I'm going to be a seidkona.” You declared. “Just as soon as I figure out how. I'm taking this as an opportunity to leave that all behind. I never have to see that guy again. I don't have to hold on to the hatred. I don't have to project it onto other people, I can start moving forward again.”

“You don't have to push.” Brunnhilde warned. “You'll burn yourself out. Set your own pace. You don't have to do everything at once, in fact, you probably shouldn't.”

“Where should I start then?” You asked. Once you had decided something, you were always full of energy and raring to go. But maybe she was right. There was a lot to do, and if you tried to do it all at once, you'd get overwhelmed.

“What all do you have to do? What tasks and goals are on your mind?” Brunnhilde asked. “and out of those, what are the simplest or easiest?”

“Um. I've got to...I've gotta learn how to use this knife. And my magic, gotta learn that. I should learn the language. Gotta be ready for the trial, I'm pretty sure I'll have to testify. Kinda torn there, I mean, I want that guy to go straight to jail forever, but I don't wanna be in the same room with him ever again? I gotta... research seidkonas. Learn about the past ones, what they did, how they worked. I gotta...I gotta go back to my room. Make up with his Highness. I have to, but also, I want to.”

“You looked at your palm. “Gotta learn more about this thing, if there is any more to learn. Gotta...Gotta yell at Beli! He's the one that spread this whole seidkona rumor around, isn't he? Only him and Loki knew; I didn't even know! And then everybody knew except for me! That is not right!”

“Oh don't yell at old Beli.” Brunnhilde said, pointing at your food. You took the hint and began eating again. “For one thing, it's a waste of breath. So, out of those things, what is easiest? What will you start with?”

“Um. Well, you'd think going back to my room and making up with Loki would be easiest, but in reality, it's terrifying. Probably can't research if I can't read the language. The trial can't be prioritized; it'll just happen when it happens. So, looks like knife is the only choice.”

“Well, there you go. I also have a suggestion. You should have a better grasp of your surroundings. If you'd like, I'll get someone to show you around. Also, if you have hobbies, you know, something you just do for fun, then you should do that a little bit.”

“...I'd like to bake something, if that's all right? I used to do that for a living, and I really enjoyed it too.”

“I'm sure that can be arranged. Let's go do that in the morning.”

[fantasticallytae]

Panacea

01 02 03

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Genres: Angst/Fluff, Gang!au themes

Warnings: contains dark themes, this chapter has mentions of sexual harassment (kind of), mental health issues, possible fights and drugs later

Word Count: 1.8k

a/n: I'm so scared lmao this is my first fic don't be too harsh rip

______________________________________________

The street lamps dimly light up her facial features as she walks intently along the pavement, home from a trip to the nearest convenience store. The cold November winds ride up her coat, sending goosbumps down her arms and back, the only sound present is the rustling of the grocery bag swinging in her right hand, the other hand tightly squeezed in her coat pocket to sustain any remaining warmth. Looking around housing alongside the streets she noticed how no graffiti had appeared since the last time she walked here. The once vibrant paint on the grey walls now faded and dirty looking.

Like on any other day, she marches down to her house in hopes that when she gets home she can throw the groceries in the fridge and finally go to sleep. Showing 10:13 on her watch, she most definitely wont hesitate plopping on the bed and finally succumbing to sleep.

That's until a rough hand grabs her by the wrist and places another hand on her mouth, preventing her from making noise.

In a complete state of shock, she fails to move a muscle or make any sound. Shuffling her into the nearest, narow alleyway, and throwing her to the ground doesn't prove to be a difficulty for the figure now infront of her, or as now appear, three. Still in a stunned state, she starts bawling and pleading for understanding, shouting that she will give them anything they need, but just to let her go. After a while of the men not responding, she falls silent, tears preventing her from seeing clearly. They look at each other, laugh, and turn back to her. The same man picks her up by the collar so she's standing, and the rest grab her arms in attempt to still her thrashing figure. After the initial startle fades, she is left fighting with her instincts.

The dully illuminated alley fades into dark and shadow, as if someone stood at the entrance, blocking the streetlight. Which unbeknownst to her, is exactly the case. It's as if the world suddenly stops, the men, her breathing, everything around her. She's suddenly dropped to the floor, the hands holding her steady, gone, and hurried running steps replacing them. She scurries off until her back hits the wall, and rolls into a ball protecting herself, a million questions buzzing through her mind, yet none of them clear because of the dread she's in. Minutes, or maybe even hours have past and she is too afraid of opening her eyes in fear of what she'll see.

A boy at the opening to the alleyway stands in place, one earbud still in his ear, hands in his denim jacket pockets, but just like her, he doesn't move a muscle until the loud cries filling the air like gas fade into his conscience gradually. He's ripped back into the reality of what he just walked into, and what he just might have prevented. He yanks the other earbud out if his ear and shoves it into his pocket, then cautiously steps over to her cowering figure and crouches down beside her to observes for any injuries or damage.

'hey, hey…. It's okay, alright? they're gone, shh it's okay' he keeps repeating, in hopes it comforts her enough so she stops crying and he can talk to her.

After a little while of his reassuring voice, the sobbing subsides and her glossy eyes open and look up to the voices owner. Something about his facial expression calms her panic and paranoia, yet she doesn't say anything to this kind stranger, before she can fully trust who he is.

He reaches an arm around her and helps her up so she's standing and steady. Her knees are wavering and she's unsure if she could stand on her own right now, so she clings onto the arm around her as tightly as she can. He understands this as her needing to have someone to help get her to a safe place. He asks for her address, which he thinks to himself, is the most foolish question he could ask someone that was just attacked, but he was sure that any other place, like his flat or the park or a store would send her deeper into uneasiness at this time of night. After some reluctance and doubt, she tells him. It's the blue house two streets down, he nods and they slowly head down the street.

To both y/n and the boy, the silence surrounding them for the duration of the journey was the most deafening silence they have ever experienced. Dazed and nauseous, they almost pass the steps leading up to the blue house. Before he leaves her alone, he sits her down on the lowest step, and once again, crouches down infront of her. He looks at her seriously.

'Do you know who that was or can you remember what they look like?' he asks with intent in his eyes.

She understood that he was trying to help by trying to identify the men, but in the fear and anxiety, she did not retain any facial features of the men, or even build, she just knows they were men. She shakes her head slightly and he sighs in defeat.

'I'm Jungkook' he states with the smallest trace of a reassuring smile on his lips.

He stands up and gestures for her to try to stand too. She slowly stands, thanks him quietly but profusely, turns around and gradually hauls her heavy feeling legs up to the door. He waits for her to dissapear behind the door at the bottom of the steps, and runs to his own flat as fast as his legs can take him.

_____________________________________

That night you could almost throw up in fear and paranoia. The doors and windows were checked more than ever before, the lights were all turned on and you didn't get a blink of sleep that night, or in fact any night for the next couple of days. Eating was something that only came to your mind when you could feel a stomachache from hunger creeping into your belly, and you spent the next few weeks in the contentment of your room, afraid of leaving the house, your mental health only deteriorating. Events from the night replaying like a film tape in your mind, until you thought of the boy, "Jungkook", and you felt relief. God know what would have happened if he wasn't there at the right place, right time. In a way you felt the need to repay him, except all you knew was his name.

Your doorbell sounds out for the first time in two weeks and your heart beat feels like drums. You scramble downstairs, unkempt hair, clothes and barefoot. You slightly pull back your curtain to see that it's the boy from two weeks ago. With gradual, reluctant steps you approach the door and unlock it. You're greeted with a smiling, warm face of the boy who saved your life.

In a now peaceful state, you are able to notice everything that you didn't that night. How his face was quite stern yet soft and boyish. How his eyes shrink in size when he smiles at you. How the hair that sweeps across his brows is messy yet it looks taken care of. Behind the smile he is beaming, there seems to be concern , which you immediately detect and are grateful for, since there is noone else that you can say is 'concerned' for you.

'Hey' he simply greets

…

'I'm Jungkook' he reminds you when you don't say anything.

Shaking you out of your daydream, you open the door wider and let him in with a soft 'come in'. He steps in and quickly looks around the room. You lead him to the kitchen and he sits at the round dinner table, as you sit across him after you made both him and you tea. He's the first to speak.

'I wanted to check up on you' he says

You cant lie that you're not shocked that he even showed up to your house, but he also wants to check up on you? Quickly hiding your surprise you simply say:

'I'm doing alright, I guess'

Something that looks like anger and disappointment contorts through his features and his eyebrows furrow.

'y/n there's no "doing alright" with this. You have to go to the police.'

Ignoring every part of the sentence that wasn't your name, you furrow your eyebrows back at him in turn but not in anger, in confusion.

'How do you know my name?'

His expression jumps back to neutral, and just as confused as you, he asks:

'We go to the same college….?'

A pang goes through your head, and you take in his features one last time, but this time in realisation that he was actually in the same year of college as you, studying video production and you ever so often see him from a distance when you're walking to classes.

He has obviously read your face to know that you only remember him now.

'You know you've missed the whole first week of the opening'. Actually, no you didn't know. Your crumbling mental health has completely blocked out school from your mind and only now all the things you are supposed to be doing come into mind. You know that sooner or later you'll have to start going to classes again.

'I tried to spot you out when I was walking to and from classes but you were never there, so I came here'

…

You share a moment of silence between you, and you start sobbing all over again. Ashamed but thankful, you whisper:

'Jungkook, thank you so much'

'Hey hey, it's no problem. I'm just looking out for you. Hey look here, it's okay'

You are so ashamed now, breaking down in front of him is not something you thought you'd do, but it happened, and he was so selfless and loving about it.

'hey, now look, if you'd like to, we can meet again sometime but you have to get some fresh air and sunlight alright? When can you meet me?' You think for a little and remember that for now, you are free all the time so you question:

'When are you free?'

'I would be good for Sunday, and you?'

'Yeah, me too'

'I'ts settled then' he shoots a smile as he stands up and pushes his chair back in. You follow him into the hall without a word, he pulls the door open and steps out. Before you can close the door though, he turns and says:

'Meet at the small playground at 6?'

You simply smile back and slightly nod. And with that, he is off and strutting back to his flat.

[cherryplasmids]

☆ stress & love ☆

pairing: erik stevens x collegestudent!reader fandom: marvel cinematic universe request: @tastemybuns  — Hello can I request a Erik Killmonger x reader where the reader finds Erik like crying or tearing up and goes and comforts him? And have Erik notice how beautiful the reader is and says I Love You to them for the first time? Please? Thanks! notes:  check out my other works; masterlist

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You must have done some fucked up things in your past life that ultimately transferred to your current one because the universe was on a mission to kill you or slowly cause mental deterioration. And at the moment, the former appeared to be the perfect option since you were absolutely done with life at the moment.

The notion of senior year in college is filled with unadulterated fun was complete bullshit. Not only was your schedule basically full, the teachers decided to make your life a living hell by piling essays and projects on top of each other with short durations in between to finish them. You basically lived in the back corner of the library now since you’re always there whenever class was not in session. You used to love the library, but now, you absolutely dreaded the place.

Not only that, but you and your so-called best friend had a falling out because of her boyfriend — all because she accused you of trying to sleep with him. It ended in a lot of shouting, insults being thrown around, an eventual fist fight, and lastly, loads of crying. Also, she was able to get all of your friends to turn their backs on you, resulting in loneliness that grew as each day passed.

That leads to your to mother. She’s been insisting on you getting back together with your ex, Diego, which would cure your lonesome and depressive state. But she doesn’t seem to understand that Diego was a right foul prick that didn’t deserve you even in your worst, drunken state. To say that to her was like saying the sky isn’t blue. She adored the bastard to death and would never let you forget your ‘mistake’ of breaking up with him, she clearly liked him more than she liked you.

However, no matter how bad things appeared to be, there was one good thing the universe granted you, and that was your best friend, Erik. He was your knight in shining armor without him actually knowing it. Oh god, you loved him with all your heart — even when he was hundreds of miles away in California while you were busting your balls in New York. He was incredibly handsome and passionate and smart and so, so, kind. You could ramble on and on about him for days which you used to do to your friends. But you knew Erik only saw you as a friend, it was apparent in his behavior, especially when he noted all the girls he brings home on a weekly basis. It was heartbreaking, but there was nothing to be done about it because you would rather have him as a best friend than nothing at all.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The insistent knocking was heard from your door which made you groan. You were attempting to clean up on your only free weekend which annoyed you since you hated cleaning and this was the third interruption since you began an hour again.

“I’m coming!” You yelled, wiping your forehead on your shirt before walking toward the door, every step causing more irritation to rise up within you. The knocking continued and you really wanted to punch whoever was behind that door because they were pissing you off. “I swear to god if you don’t fucking stop —” You cut yourself off as you swung the door open.

And there he was, in all his sexy glory, was Erik with the biggest grin you had ever seen. You all but screamed, throwing yourself towards him, causing him to wrap his big, muscular arms around your curves. He picked you up from the floor making you squeal in happiness.

“Erik! You didn’t tell me you were visiting!”

He releases you from his hold, placing you on the floor before rolling in a small luggage into the main area of your apartment. “I decided to use my vacation days to come visit my favorite girl.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and looks around. “Whoa, this place is looking like a train wreck. Did you have some wild party last night?”

Despite his teasing tone, your eyes couldn’t help tearing. He was totally right. Your apartment was an absolute mess. Dishes piled up in the sink, overflowing onto the dirty countertops. The floor was no exception, red solo cups littered the wooden panels with chip bags and boxes of microwaveable foods mingling with it. It was an atrocious sight, making you feel dirty and overwhelmingly frustrated at your lack of control over your own life.

Without a word you broke down crying falling to your knees as you released all your pent-up frustration and anxiety that has built up for months. Sobs wracked your body leaving you to shudder and slowly lose your breath.

Erik kneels beside you, speechless and dumbfounded over your sudden mood swing. He silently holds your, allowing you to bury your face into his chest and cry your heart out.

He feels utterly terrible, his heartbreaking at each moan of sadness that emits from your naturally plump lips. If there was one thing he hated most in the world — besides his ‘family’ back home — was you crying. So he just cradled you in his arms, whispering comforting words until you calmed down enough to speak to him, to let him know who he has to beat the shit out of for hurting you. 

“Baby girl,” Erik whispers, his velvet voice instantly sending calming waves of serenity into your brain, soothing your anxiety. You sniffle a few times before removing your head from his chest in order to look at him.

Holy shit.

Were the first words that Erik thought because, holy shit, were you fucking beautiful. It hit him like a ton of bricks, your gorgeous self was hiding away from himself for all these years. The glisten of unshed tears only bolded the amber lines in your chocolate eyes, streaks of fallen salty liquid accentuated the small acne marks on your cheek, and the quiver of your lips made it all more enticing to kiss.

All these years Erik had been keeping himself from ever seeing you more than a friend because he felt like he didn’t deserve you. You put up with him for so long, for a decade, and yet, out of all his friends, you stayed. Through all the physical fights, emotional breakdowns, happy moments, and everything in between, you stayed. All his other girlfriends didn’t work out because there was a sense of him comparing them to you. They didn’t fill the criteria of even matching all your amazing assets.

Erik didn’t realize it then, but he sure as hell did now.

“I love you.” His voice was low, breathy and feathery, vulnerability lacing those three words.

Your eyes widen, darting across his face to witness some sort of detection of lying, but no, all you saw was adoration, his brown eyes gazing deeply into your own.

"Erik," You murmur, matching his own pitch in order to keep the moment intact. A sudden warmth spreading through your chest that completes engulfs you in a blanket of radiance. However, you don't want to get your hopes up. "You don't mean —"

"I love you," Erik said with conviction, bringing you closer to him before he planted a gentle yet tentative kiss on your lips. He might not have noticed it then, but he knew it now. He loved you and would continue cherishing you throughout all the good and the bad — just like how you had done with him.

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

word count: 1,278 published: feb 18, 2018 edited: n/a

[abouttogetdicey]

Hey, there! So, for a more compiled, concise submission…would you mind making a dice palette for my human Fighter, Eskarne “Kemina” Sagitta? She was named after her grandmother and is the next in line for chieftainess of her tribe, which has a trading, farming, and warrior culture, and is both matrilineal and matriarchal. The women lead, because in their culture, it is believed that women are wise and superior at diplomacy, debate, trade/business, and politics, whereas men are meant for physical combat, hunting, and manual labor; furthermore, they believe that every time someone goes out to war, he leaves a piece of his soul on the battlefield (since war changes people).

As such, Kemina’s mother and grandmother were raising and instructing her in how to be the next chieftainess, but little Kemina was born with a love of physical combat, martial arts, and swordsmanship in her blood. Try as her family might, they could not dissuade her from dreaming of adventure beyond the tribe and honorable combat; however, they were able to still redirect her to the library and her leadership and trade studies for a while, until one day, tragedy struck.

Upon a stranger passing through her village, Kemina’s grandmother suddenly lost her reason, and her mental state slowly deteriorated over a span of four years, until she finally died. Kemina’s training was put on hold during these four years, and when her grandmother died, her mother hurriedly tried to shore up the shaken tribal dynamics while rushing to catch her daughter up on all that she’d missed. Meanwhile, Kemina was deep in grief and rage over her grandmother’s death, and having heard of a stranger coming through town shortly before, believed that someone was to blame. She felt compelled to find the culprit and bring them to justice, particularly since her tribe believes in name curses (that you can put a curse on someone if you know their true name) and she is her grandmother’s namesake; furthermore, being her granddaughter, she believed it to be her duty to avenge her grandmother’s death. Her mother did not agree, and the two clashed over the matter until a cold, winter’s night shortly after Kemina turned 19. After an especially exasperating fight with her mother, the young woman shaved off part of her hair (symbolizing the part of her soul she was about to leave behind in her “war”), took on her grandmother’s pet name for her, “Kemina” (meaning strength), and ran away from home. She was then taken in as an apprentice by a gentlewoman master calligrapher, who also instructed her in combat and martial arts as she well understood the dangers a lady artisan might face. This mentor, Layla, viewed Kemina like a daughter to her, and intended to run a joint shop with her once her apprenticeship was complete. However, when Kemina turned 23 and completed her training, the Inquisition came to draft her (in this campaign, the Inquisition is more like an overpowered FBI than a religious institution, and drafts people), and she went willingly in hopes that the position would help her gain information on her grandmother’s death, much to Layla’s dismay.

She is a bit rough around the edges and blunt to a fault, as her culture is quite blunt in nature. She has a tendency to swear profusely, though she will attempt to curb it around children and employers, or when trying to comfort someone. Because she is still internally stressed and wrestling with grief, guilt, and inadequacy issues, she is a heavy drinker who favors ale and wassail, and eats turkey legs (unbeknownst to her, it’s the tryptophan she craves) to relax. Underneath her rough, tough exterior, she is actually tender-hearted, and seeks to defend those who seem vulnerable, particularly children and elderly folks. She is also endeared to playful, innocent, sweet-spirited, or naïve people, as they awaken a part of her she felt she lost, and because she seeks to protect them. Despite her edges, she also loves pretty or well-crafted things, and enjoys painting rocks and continuing her scribal trade in her spare time. She is Middle Eastern in theme, look, and cultural similarity, with bits of Mesoamerican, Jewish, and Native American culture mixed in, and she is often seen wearing browns, coppers and reds. Red is a significant color in her culture, as it symbolizes the blood one would be willing to shed or lose to protect one’s family, and it is worn as a protective charm or precaution as a result.

I’m sorry for the long backstory, but I hope you like her! The top two pictures were drawn by my friend @arcanepursuit, while the bottom one was drawn by another friend, Nick Pember.

Wow! There is a lot going on here, but honestly, I love it! Your attention to her backstory and past is awesome and I love seeing more POC characters influenced by non-western fantasy settings! I chose careful shades of red, brown, amber, and gold for Kemina and I really hope you enjoy! Help support the blog?

[twelfthdyke]

Hi! Do you have any headcanons for Marvin and Whizzer at the hospital? (b/c tears) Love your blog and your HC's by the way!!! You're so creative and detailed and I love you and the Falsettos characters so much!

i hope you like these!! i also love to upset myself. tysm for the compliments! my hcs are mediocre but i'm glad you enjoy them!!

this took so long. i was trying to remain sensitive to the situation and hope that it’s accurate. i had to google the symptoms of AIDs and how to play chess so it's all here, folks. it's so weird to go from silly, lighthearted hcs to crushing ones.

we all know that whizzer is stubborn as hell. he would straight up refuse help when he's first hospitalized. he's barely mobile but too proud to admit his body is deteriorating quickly.

the amount of help he requires just doing things like walking a few metres frustrates him to no end. he starts getting really angry, telling marvin & charlotte to shove off and leave him alone. 

he's convinced that if he tries hard enough he'll be able to make himself better or at least act like it. 

he gets so upset with himself and his body's inability that he actually breaks down crying at one point-- multiples times lbr. 

he collapses and is sat on the floor on his knees, gripping his hospital gown and wiping furiously at his tear-streaked face. marvin goes to help him up but decides to crouch beside him for a bit, rubbing whizzer's arms and holding back his own tears.

marvin is constantly in a state of faux optimism that whizzer can see right through. whizzer also holds a calm, lighthearted expression when he can as he tries to worry his friends and family as little as possible. left alone they watch each other and know that it's not alright anymore.

they drop their brave faces and just hold each other most nights. their tight knit family leaves the room and they lay silently together. if tears are shed, neither of them say anything.

on nights where the silence and sobs are too painful they reminisce over things they did together in the past (although they usually avoid mentioning racquetball or chess). they'll lie on their backs, hands intertwined, recounting all the dumb places they messed around and tease each other.

these nights are spent cuddling and talking until whizzer succumbs to fatigue despite doing nothing that day. marvin has to face the inevitability of the situation alone late into the night and early hours. he's graced with insomnia and anxiety throughout whizzer's illness.

there comes a point where whizzer refuses to look in a mirror and laments his good looks. his cheeks become more sunken and his weight loss is so blatant, it's unsettling.

whizzer: remember when my hair line was my only flawmarvin, holding him and whispering into his hair: it still iswhizzer, lightheartedly: don't be a sap, marv

whizzer is soon suffering the mental effects of his diagnosis. he's suddenly overtaken by constant anxiety and depressive thoughts. marvin comforts him however he can, understanding how it must feel for him. 

along with these, whizzer's memory is taking a serious toll. he tries to play chess with jason but completely loses his train of thought. 

jason: you can't move that waywhizzer, half asleep: huh...?jason: the knight. you can't move diagonally; it's against the rules.

marvin notices the distress and confusion on whizzer's face and quickly comes to his rescue, challenging jason to a game.

he's left confused a lot  he loses grasp of dates -- but this could be due to his refusal to count down his days while marvin anxiously keeps track of it, trying to be with whizzer for every single one of his final hours, minutes, seconds.

whizzer sometimes finds him overbearing but marvin knows when to back off and allow whizzer the space despite his reluctance to leave him alone.

whizzer prefers to be in company most of the time during his treatment. when alone he's left to his thoughts of death and what he'll leave behind. no matter how many times he wills himself to believe it's just his time. 

he's frustrated, enraged that if there is a god, why he would do this to him? he knows he is not an infallible being but he at least deserves an explanation. he doesn't deserve to be left to suffer this nameless disease that only provides him with pitiful (or disgusted) looks and half-hearted apologies.

along with the mental collapse, he suffers from persistent nausea as his immune system struggles to fight back any other infections he catches. he can't even look at food without imagining it coming back up. if the illness doesn't kill him then malnutrition is the next contender.

when he and marvin lay together, marvin can't help but notice how he's being poked by exposed ribs.

marvin will hold whizzer and notice how whizzer is somehow extremely hot yet shivering. marvin attempts to nurse him through his more feverish days and whizzer has to remind him that they're in a hospital and marvin isn't a doctor. 

he won't admit it but he prefers marvin's care no matter how useless he is at it. most doctors are cold, dismissive. charlotte isn't able to hang around 24/7 so a familiar face is welcomed.

whizzer outright refuses to allow himself to be babied and makes distasteful jokes at his own expense in hopes of lightening the mood -- it doesn't really work despite his best efforts.

marvin does laugh to some of his morbid joking, to mendel and trina's shock and distaste. whizzer is pleased with himself, not having seen marvin laugh in so long. it's not as bright as he usually laughs but it's something and whizzer finds himself laughing too. marvin holds his gaze fondly and if he's tearing up no one mentions it.

they soon have to face the inevitability of the illness and how it's going to affect marvin. there's a wordless exchange between marvin and whizzer after they've both been informed of marvin's likely future. they hold each other a little tighter that night.

they have a full discussion later on. whizzer won't stop apologising and marvin won't stop asking him not to. 

marvin is all too aware of his fate. this isn't whizzer's fault, he knows that much for sure but he's infuriated. why was there no public information? he'd become a victim to rumours and sourceless hearsay. he and whizzer and countless others.

the days go by quickly, some better than others but whizzer's clearly getting worse. each night he seems a little colder (physically and emotionally), he holds marvin hand a little less tight, his conversation is a little more sparse.

when whizzer's time finally comes and he's lost behind that hospital curtain, marvin is empty. he's never quite understood how someone could feel empty, completely devoid of any emotion, but here he is.

marvin and jason have much the same reaction. frozen. stiff and frozen in place. trina just wishes that this time jason wasn't so much like marvin. she'd always been loud, emotional. couldn't jason cry for once? then trina could hold him and comfort him and whisper how it's going to be alright regardless of her own uncertainty.

on that final day, after mendel and trina have collected the bar mitzvah things and quickly ushered jason out, marvin feels powerless. 

cordelia is leant against the wall covering her face and holding back her own tears. 

before he leaves, whizzer offers him one last genuine (yet teary) smile with his hand over marvin's. his tight squeeze slowly loosens and marvin leaves a final kiss on his cheek as he strokes the back of his hand.

marvin is there when the final light leaves whizzer's eyes. marvin is there when charlotte slowly covers whizzer's body with a sheet. he forces himself to look away knowing that whizzer isn't there anymore. not really. he's there as charlotte comforts cordelia and he can't help but feel a sudden spark of envy. 

he clenches his fists and puts on a brave face. he figures that's what whizzer would want. he couldn’t be more wrong and subconsciously he knows that.

his facade finally collapses when he sees jason place that king chess piece on whizzer's grave. he inwardly snorts, even in death whizzer wins.

jason sees his father's tears and trina is startled when jason lets out his own pitiful sobs. 

the entire tight knit family is left to mourn and to wonder if everything will ever be alright again. mendel, forever a skeptic, offhandedly mentions that whizzer would be watching them where he is right now. the uncharacteristic comment is a welcome comfort as their now-family-of-6 holds each other. 

the belief that everything could be alright lingers.

so yeah... hmu to sob over falsettos.

[dallonsmiles]

{long depressing personal post warning} (also copied from FB so some things don’t apply here)

I love you so much. Thank you for caring so much and making ME feel loved and like I actually matter to you and that running all the Dallon blogs and accounts I have for the past 6+ years actually mattered and continues to matter. I wish I could live near you and see you all the time. At least you actually care if I'm suffering and need help. I know you would never abandon me after all that we've been through and done for each other. I understand how much you care now. Still totally floored by it. I can't believe I'm slowly but surely being abandoned by my own father for his new girlfriend he's ridiculously gaga over and convinced he's going to marry after not even 5 months together. He doesn't want to take care of me at all anymore (and I don't really want him to have to either since his heart is so bad now again and he WON'T be getting a pacemaker.) He doesn't want to live with me. He doesn't want to be around me anymore than he has to as my only remaining parent. I woke up from an awful dream (which is a dream that's been repeating since my mom died or maybe even before, more times than I could possibly count) in which I was in agony and needed help and was crying and desperate and my dad and everyone else just ignored me. I have this dream (with slight variations like location changes) more often than I've ever had any dream in my life. Everytime I try to tell it to my dad, the dream interpreter, he just gets mad at me for my own subconscious being terrified of and not emotionally strong enough to be losing him. Which IS what is happening. He wants to dump me in some house with other disabled people and caretakers so he doesn't ever have to deal with me and my health shit (which HE passed onto me through genes) anymore. He says he just wants to "be my dad" which at this point means him living all the way in Santa Cruz with this woman and seeing me maybe once a week. I can't honestly believe this is really happening. He promised. Before my mom died, it was the one thing I was most terrified of. Losing HIM after losing my mom to cancer. And he promised so many times both me and my mom that that would never ever ever happen. I feel completely empty. I have nothing left in my gas tank to keep suffering and struggling through every day with this amount of emotional turmoil on top. It's only getting so much worse as he withdraws.. even though he's still currently employed by the state of California as my official caretaker and is being paid for it. He's not making his hours anymore. He's barely even here. I don't know if I've ever felt so hopeless and alone before in my life.. I've never been so terrified and overwhelmed and this is all coming at me RIGHT as I get back from a DESPERATELY NEEDED vacation, which helped me so much.. desperately needed by my horribly tortured and PTSD'd psyche. And my dad doesn't even get it. He's acting like I shouldn't have gone and shaming me for it because of how much pain I'm in now and how bad off I am. So many of my joints are out of place but I even told him about my conversation with this incredible human Dallon, who is legitimately my friend on some level now, and how much it meant that he actually checks up on me to see how I'm doing and was concerned about how I was feeling after the drive and the show... it's Iike none of that means shit in my dad's mind. To him it was a waste of money and a bad decision cuz now I'm in bad shape so HE has to actually do his job of taking care of me and he doesn't like it or want to. God. Seeing Dallon and being away helped my emotional state so much more than anything since my mom's cancer returned over 2 years ago... and now it's fucking ruined. Thanks so much for being so negative about the things that actually make me happy, dad. Thanks so much for telling me repeatedly last week that I wouldn't be able to handle the trip to LA because of my pain and making me feel like I was doomed to fail. Things are finally getting to a point where I legitimately will not be able to go on.. unless I find a fucking rich enough person to date/marry who can afford me the mobility devices and expensive pain treatment options I so badly need. It's so fucked up and awful that I have to actually think seriously about taking that route because of the way my dad has chosen to move forward in life without me and because I know I can't survive the way he's trying to force me to live. I don't think I've ever felt so alone in my life. If you're family or know my dad, PLEASE do me a HUGE favor and don't contact him about this. It will unfortunately only make things a LOT worse for me. He does not respond the way you would expect a seasoned, extremely well-educated psychologist would. When it comes to his daughter, he believes things like that I should be able to control (and that I actually AM able to) my anxiety and tears when I'm horribly anxious and upset. As if I'm personally insulting him and trying to make things harder for him and I'm just crying or having an anxiety attack from him raising his voice at me in what I tried to present as a rational conversation to slight him. "You can control it, you just don't want to." I can't even count how many times he's told me that I can control my anxiety and adrenaline problem if I actually "wanted to." That makes me so sick. Coming from a psychologist, that's so fucked up. I am not a super human. Why the fuck would you think I could control things that others can't when I have WAY more to deal with health-wise and life-wise than most people with anxiety and mental illlness? A lot of you are former students or extended family who only know one or two sides to him, not the true person he is at home as a father and caretaker of a daughter with one of the top four most painful and debilitating conditions ever discovered and studied by man. I don't know what the fuck I'm going to do, or what the hell is going to happen to me now. But I love you all. Especially you, Dallon James Weekes. Thank you for just fucking existing and being kind and brave enough to put yourself out there for the rest of us to enjoy your amazing personality, talent, and spirit too. Thank you for telling and showing me how much I matter and mean to you. I really fucking hope I can find some strength and fuel left in my empty tank to keep going through this hell and maybe make it out the other side somehow. I want to be there at your future shows. I want to be there to watch this band blow up. I want you to continue to see me in the audience and make direct eye contact and talk to me via hand signals because you're too far away and it's too loud in there to speak. I'm still beyond floored at how much you actually like me.. and the look on your face when you first spotted me in the crowd the other night was one of the sweetest things ever and I won't forget that ever ever ever, nor will I forget the way you say my name or smile and wink at me while conversing. Thank you for giving me that last week. You have no fucking idea how much you matter. How many times you have legitimately saved me from ending it all, just because of who you are and how much love I have for you and KNOWING even years ago that you would be heartbroken if I ever actually did commit and you found out (which you would).. That's what stopped my self-harming years ago and what stopped my actual attempts at ending my life. Him. This man. He is the reason I am still here, among others of course. It's not solely him. But he is a massive MASSIVE reason I am still here and without more scars all over my body from self-harm, trying to make the pain go to my skin where it's cut instead of my brain focusing on all the pain in my body and joints. Unfortunately I've gotten to this point where I seem to have no way forward that is actually emotionally sustainable for me. My entire body and mind are both still in full PTSD trauma mode from losing my mom and the months before we lost her when the cancer made her crazy and cruel and heartless. Can't even remember how many times she called the cops on me near the end because we got into a shouting match (initiated by her) and she would tell them I was being violent and physically hurting her or trying to push her down the stairs (these things would always happen when my dad wasn't home, too.) The cops would always come into my room to talk to me and tell me they could understand what an awful situation I was in but there was nothing they could do. One of them once came in and saw my weed on the bed, where it's obviously illegal to possess or consume in Georgia, and he only asked how much/often I use it. It was already abundantly clear to them by the time he spotted it that I'm badly disabled by pain and the horror of my mom's condition, and he knew I needed it. Didn't say another word after I told him I only use it medically for pain and anxiety/depression and my stomach etc. Imagine dealing with that in the last months before your mom's mind deteriorates and she dies of cancer, so you can't even fucking spend time with her in her last days or try to make things right for fear of hearing more unforgettably awful words from her. I still haven't been able to go to regular therapy to deal with all of my grief and emotional scars from it either because of how bad my body and pain has been since. I've made it to about three appointments total so far. I have another tomorrow WITH my dad that is looking more and more like it will have to be postponed because I can't fucking move and my dad is choosing to be out for hours when I need him or ANYONE here to help me out so I might ACTUALLY be in good enough shape to go tomorrow. I just want to be free. I want to be happy. I was so happy last week, happier than I can even remember last being. Why do I only EVER get a few days of good and happy life before it all goes back to utter fucking hell? I don't get it. Sorry for this ridiculously long post... I just feel so completely alone and hopeless now and I really don't know what's going to happen to me if I don't find a friend or boyfriend or girlfriend to help me out, love me, and live with me. In desperate need of both physical and emotional support right now from friends and really anyone. Guess I have no choice but to start seriously searching for a well-off man or woman to date, regardless of their personality or whether I'm even attracted to them. I really can't believe this is what my life turned into. I had such a happy and healthy childhood until age ten when all of the pains and illnesses started to show their nasty faces. I could have never imagined this. I do remember being in like 1st grade art class and the teacher telling us about Frida Kahlo and how she was in a horrific bus crash that left her disabled and in excruciating pain. That was the first time I had ever heard the term "excruciating pain" and I've never forgotten that particular lesson for some reason.. Probably because it was basically foreshadowing my future. I remember being horrified by the mere thought of excruciating pain, and hoping I never ever had to experience that. And look where I am now LOOOOOOL. Must've been the psychic stuff in my brain latching onto that knowledge/sentence because it was already predetermined that I would end up in excruciating pain, thanks to the shitty genes that were passed on to me. So yep! My life fucking sucks.

[orange-you-say]

the chains of harrow quest was really, really bad imo

(spoilers for literally the entire quest under the cut)

the quest starts out really promising - an abandoned steel meridian vessel, the crew slaughtered and the red veil insignia scrawled on the wall in what looks like blood. something really really wrong is happening here, a feeling amplified by a sudden red veil ambush after the spending the whole mission in eerie silence. then, when rescuing palladino, rather than fight against clear and defined red veil agents, you’re pitted against a force composed of some sort of shadow figure that shuffles about with no label. you’re hard pressed to spot them before they’re in your face because the level is also ominously dark, allowing them to blend in with the shadows, usually only seeing their red health bar when targeting them

after you rescue palladino you next investigate an abandoned corpus vessel. it’s the same deal as before - pitch black, eerie silence, with strange shadows dancing along the walls, looking almost human. you think you know what to expect this time, especially as you’re crashing a red veil seance - they’re gonna try to fuck you up, and you’re gonna have to fuck them up first and steal their sacred relic so palladino can try to get through to their god-figure rell.

the neat thing is that that isn’t what happens. the veil agents are all already dead, with their sacred artifact sitting in the center of the room. you nab it and get ready to head out, but you’re stopped. something is talking to you. it’s not happy you took the sacred gizmo.

and that’s when rell appears and all hell breaks loose

the shadow figures are back, and the veil agents are reanimating, which on their own would be easy enough to deal with - their defensive stats aren’t particularly noteworthy, and they drop after a couple of hits. the problem is rell. rell is a particularly ill defined shadow man with glowing red eyes who stands out for two other reasons. the first is that he has little minions that will chase you down while he catches up. the second thing that sets him apart is that he doesn’t have a health bar. you can’t kill him, and the doors are all chained shut. so you’re stuck in a room with shadow monsters and zombie edgelords and what amounts to about eight different horror movie monsters in one really pissed off god-figure who’s immortal. it’s great, it’s different, it takes away your ability to cheese it with a silly high amount of damage. it removes the sensation of being overpowered from you, which warframe struggles with in a lot of areas. anyways you escape and get back to your ship after palladino warns you that you can’t kill him, and that marks about the point where the quest starts going downhill

the next three missions of the quest are the same mission spread across different tiles - go to a room, use a kinetic siphon trap that simaris sold to you assuming you’d use it to capture prospective sanctuary candidates, and shoot the physical manifestation of one of rell’s emotions until it’s weak enough for the trap to absorb a la danny phantom. it’s boring, it’s grindy, and it would be painfully dull if it weren’t for rell following you and trying to murder you the whole time. it’s a very nice touch, as are his remarks on each emotion as you trap them, but the justification for it - apparently doing this will help him regain his “true self”, as well as the fact that you must capture a total of nine emotions over three missions, make it tedious and irritating.

finally, once rell’s emotions have been contained, you are asked to go to the red veil temple and straight up murder rell because apparently capturing his emotions did absolutely nothing to help him and now it’s his time to pass on, so off to destroy his vessel you go. this has the potential to have been a really touching moment in which we see rell’s humanity restored and free him from his prison after an epic showdown with who you’ve come to understand as “dark rell”. instead, you get a really obnoxious and painful sequence where you must fend off waves of veil agents between rounds of shattering the chains around rell’s vessel - as your operator. this could have been relatively simple and painless, albeit a little too easy, but instead you are forced to use the most fragile unit in your arsenal, and the enemies aren’t going easy on you. the veil agents will throw dagger users at you, and then bows that can take out a significant chunk of health (enough to kill me every time they hit me, but i never got hit by them at full health so idk how much damage they acutally do), followed by veil agents who are just straight up reskins of the shadow stalker with lowered stats. to top it off, “dark rell” or “the man in the wall” is floating around like an asshole and will pepper you with balls of fire periodically. it’s a really painful mission that perfectly captures how lacking in any ability at all the operator is - something that we’ve all been complaining about since the War Within dropped, so DE really has no excuse for how poorly thought out this was. the only positive side to this mission is that death didn’t set you back in the slightest - you respawn a few seconds later with the map exactly as you left it, right down to the number of hit points that asshole had left before he killed you, and keep going

level design notwithstanding, the lore to the quest also leaves a lot to be desired. over the course of the quest, we learn that rell was a tenno who was “different” (autistic), and for this, margulis cast him out. we already know margulis is a character of questionable morality from how she sealed our memories and abilities in the War Within, but this feels much more like a character being driven by the plot, rather than the other way around like it ought to be. margulis loved the tenno, and it seems odd that rell was the only tenno out of many who was “different”.

(and frankly, i find it incredibly frustrating that DE didn’t have the guts to outright say “margulis rejected rell because he was autistic” and instead left plenty of hints and implications that he was. it’s 2017, warframe is set even further in the future than that, we can say that characters are autistic without having a meltdown, and we are certainly above the idea that autism is grounds to reject someone is an acceptable plot device)

anyways margulis deciding rell wasn’t good enough for her apparently turned out to be a good thing, because he goes on to become an expert in void related knowledge which he shares with his disciples, who will eventually form the red veil. he also takes it upon himself to protect the system from what he calls the “man in the wall” - an entity hinted to be the “something out there, watching us” the tenno’s father talks about in TWW. because he knew he would eventually get old and die (which finally starts to answer my questions about tenno mortality - at the very least, people think the tenno are gonna age over time), he chose to permanently transfer his consciousness into the Harrow warframe

let’s back up a second here. rell wasn’t good enough for margulis. he wasn’t allowed to be put in cryosleep and dream with the other tenno. he never received a precursor to the warframe, and yet somehow he happens to have his own warframe? something doesn’t add up here, and it’s never going to be addressed.

after declaring that he must be chained up in the depths of the red veil temple for all eternity, he slowly starts to deteriorate into “good rell” and “bad rell”. “good rell” is who rell is - the clever, knowledgable, autistic child who was ostracized and made to be an outsider. “bad rell” is the man in the wall.

wait, what?

it turns out, while aboard the zariman, after his mother sends him away for his own safety as she succumbs to the madness all adults aboard the ship did, the other tenno still refused to acknowledge him and continued to exclude him. this resulted in him feeling incredible isolated and alone, which allowed the man in the wall to slip in and manipulate him. “bad rell” is nothing more than the man in the wall breaking free after rell’s mental state begins deteriorating. killing rell has apparently retrapped him - inside our own operator’s mind. (this last sentence is purely speculation on my part, given some of the weird things that happened after returning to the orbiter post quest)

this quest starts off strong gameplay wise, but deteriorates quickly in much the same way the Glast Gambit did, and has lore that’s more messy and contradictory than the current US administration on pretty much anything. it also raises a lot of questions for the few that are answered. what exactly is the man in the wall? where did it come from, and why is it so hostile? how did rell get a warframe, and why did his mind deteriorate, when Silvana, who didn’t even share the tenno’s powers, retain her mental stability, if not her ability to think quickly? why did rell’s emotions get free, and why didn’t capturing them do anything? for that matter, how did rell’s emotions attain physical manifestation and separation from their host? how does harrow actually play into all of this? is he really just a glorified set piece, or did his abilities in particular serve some purpose to rell?

honestly this quest was a mess and a disappointment all around

[the-bitter-reality]

i hate who i am i hate who ive become i hate my life i hate how im missing out on so much i hate how i have to give a fuck about everyone elses problems and yet no one cares about mine im tired of feeling this way depressed, lonely, unappreciated, neglected its hard to express myself and how im feeling but there’s too much that goes on myhead to explain and sometimes it’s hard to put my feelings into words so i just dont bother instead it just fills up my head and its mainly screams of what is wrong with you why are you like this be normal for once im tired of people acting like mental health isnt needed to be a well rounded person im tired of being put aside because people think itll “pass” or “im having a rough day”(HAHA HOW DO YOU POSSIBLY HAVE A ROUGH DAY EVERYDAY) “maybe you can ____” maybe you can stfu and listen to me for once and let me thoroughly explain myself i dont bother telling my parents, friends (which i have like 2), my boyfriend anything anymore because its like why bother??? Yall dont gaf? You cant change anything anyway? AND UK WHAT ABSOLUTELY DRIVES ME INSANE?; WHEN PEOPLE HAVE THE FUCKING NERVE TO TELL ME IM NOT TRYING OR I DIDNT TRY HARD ENOUGH LIKE FUCK YOU. Honestly fuck you. You dont know what Ive done for myself, to myself, anything to get myself out of this rut. How much shit i got on my plate as it is. How do you have the balls to tell someone THAT ISNT YOU that they havent tried. SOMETIMES THERES MORE THAN JUST TRYING AND SOMETIMES IT DOESNT WORK. My mental state has been severely deteriorating for the past 2 years and I feel lost and alone and crazy. Its always been in rough condition but Im starting to feel myself slowly grow insane and I dont know what to do, who to turn to, so on. Ive noticed a lack of appetite which is rare for me. Like Im never hungry anymore and I eat maybe once a day and not a lot. Personally therapy doesnt do anything for me for now I just smoke my stress away which isnt healthy. I just need guidance and love and support.. Like its scary to me seeing how much ive changed due to my depression. I dont laugh as much as I did, I dont have my sense of humor and energy and sassiness. I hate how I am now. Just a miserable pathetic piece of garbage. I just needed to let that out im sorry if you actually took the time to read this Im just in a bad place and all of this is about an 8th of what goes on inside my head daily but like 10000x faster and thoughts like daggers shooting across my brain Once again sorry for wasting your time

[jmaria200]

Sweet Pain

05/28/2018

Sweet Pain

05/28/2018

The first full day of the new eating lifestyle has come and gone and I’m in such need of a piece of strawberry licorice. I not sure if I should call it a diet(actually you don’t lose weight this time around), a lifestyle, torture, etc. It’s official name is The Whole 30, another food fad that attempts to right the wrongs of the American diet. This time sugar, specifically processed sugars,(you know everything that tastes great and is addicting), preservatives, starches are the enemies and the Whole 30 commands you to get rid of them, cold turkey. Instead you are beholden to meat, nuts, fish and other proteins and fruit for thirty days.

My wife, a worse junk food junkie than me, is on the hunt for the latest ways to curb her yearnings and this was her latest find. Having long waged the secret inner war with my sweet tooth face it almost all of us do, I signed up and even after the first day I’m craving good old fashioned sugar. Lord, what would we do without it in this country? Maybe not be so fat? I’ve decided to keep this online journal of my progress and my pain over the next 30 days.  

5/29/2018

I feel lethargic, my mouth is constantly watering, and my head is fuzzy, . This marks the second day of the Whole30. Food, once reliable comfort, has become a antagonist. The kitchen is a mine field where I must step carefully. It is so easy to pluck out a sensual chocolate covered marshmallow from a red colored box and bite into it. The food I can eat sits like a bag of sand in my gut. It keeps me sustained but not happy.

I’ve read some of the literature and what I’m going through is quite normal and it will get worse before it gets better. My body is converting slowly converting from sugar based fuel to fat fuel (apparently good fats) however it doesn’t know how to do that yet so I am sluggish. I think I will accompany this blog with some research on the story of Americans obsession with sugar and processed foods. Writing will help distract me.  

5/30/2018

Here I am two days behind. I’ll try to catch you up. I’m going to try to focus on not what I and my wife are doing this meal plan but why we’re doing it. Why this radical life change? I found this list symptoms from a website of a fitness expert. Guess what these refer too. 

Anxiety

Changes in appetite

Cravings

Flu-like symptoms

Depression

Mood changes

Dizziness

Fatigue

Headaches

Shakiness

Changes in sleep patterns

Weight loss

Stomach flu? Food poisoning? Nope. These are the symptoms of sugar detox. Yep, that’s right. This is what happens if you take sugar out of your diet and I’m not talking about cookies and ice cream and chocolate. This plan goes much deeper: bread, pasta, beans, etc. All of these types of food are broken down into sugars in your body and sugars are being linked to inflammation, bad skin, poor mood, etc.

Now America is the land of diets and eating fads as in the end we as a society have little idea of what to eat and what is good for us. If this meal plan sounds like one the many movements out there that finds its enemy: fat, gluten, carbohydrates, etc and profits off getting people worked up about it, your right and I agree. More to come on this.  

6/8/18

It is now day 11 of the Whole 30 food plan and clearly my attempts to keep up with this blog on a regular basis have failed. This is a conglomerate of previously mentioned twin infants that need near constant car and the mission to find not only summer employment but full term employment.  I can easily recap most of what has happened in those missed days.

First, I feel I must break away from food talk only and integrate my career story as it is the other side of the coin that is my life right now and it is in trouble.  My job history has been a floundering mess. I won’t go into all the gritty details as I feel they’ve been with me for at least a quarter of my life here on earth and they can get repetitive and depressing.  Let’s say I had little idea of what I wanted to do coming out of college. I tried a few different fields usually based more on “this interests me” than real research. This tactic did not work very well. The pile of temporary, part time, and “road not taken” jobs grew and grew and, at forty two, I have yet to have a steady full time job. I discovered a love of teaching in my mid thirties, specifically freshman composition at the community college level, but I have remained woefully underemployed as an adjunct for five of the six part years.  This lack of opportunity is a combination of the need for excessive education and experience for even entry level positions, the ongoing deterioration of the the writing career field, and the heightening level of competition.  I also believe my subdued personality does not help my chances.  I now have a family that depends on me and I’ve been able to do no better than a one year contract for the small Onondaga community college in upstate New York.  Since then I’ve tried to shift into high school teaching. Once again the need for degrees and certification is rigorous. I have a master’s degree, albeit not in education, and was led to believe by the recruitment people of Anne Arundel community college master’s in education program that I could potentially land temporary teaching employment while gaining my certification. The Baltimore County public school systems didn’t seem to see it this way.(go figure) I’ve also had little to no help in figuring out what to put in my application packet to make me a more attractive candidate.  Since the Onondaga success, my job search has become a rather dark cycle of sending out applications and getting rejections.  Being a daddy doesn’t allow me much time to network and I tend to be poor in this area. I’ve sought out help from the state career program, but it is painfully slow.  I take time to write about because I think the cumulative effect has become a mixture of depression and anxiety. Depression? That word is scary what with two celebrities having recently committed suicide in thew news. I have a family history of it. I have felt worn down and isolated lately but could it be that? Not knowing for sure is more worrisome which might lead to more depression. I go to bed anxious over money, anxious that my family will be well off, and wondering how many more years I need to struggle. II worry about retirement of course. I’ve scraped and saved what I could but without a solid income it’s going to be woefully inadequate. Could it be depression? I keep searching out some signal of depression in my consciousness as if I might uncover it but people who are depressed generally aren’t good at diagnosing their own condition. It’s hard to link the physical symptoms to something mental. 

So what do I do? Well, I’m working hard to stay focused, to get more organized, but I need the help of others and that help is hard to find. I need career help. I’m leary of the integrity of paid career consultants but how long can I keep floundering? I can see this summer will be tedious. It will be about slowly piecing together the knowledge to get a foot in the door in high school and probably working a part time job that is a poor fit to get there. I will need strong doses of positivity and support in my life and a real sense of direction. I’m not sure where to find that right now. I love Aurora but she is not strong at being emotionally supportive, at least not for me.  I will have to do some research on where I can find the help I need. I will leave my story there for now.

Whew, one of the best functions of writing is catharsis, to get one’s thoughts out there. It’s not pretty but it’s necessary. I wrote the previous section because it captures what is happening outside of the Whole30 and being a father and is vital to how I have been feeling over the past four days both mentally and physically. At first I’d naturally thought my symptoms were linked to the change in eating habits, but last Wednesday they took a real turn for the worst. I hadn’t felt that strange in a long time-just heavy and thick headed with blurry vision and shortness of breath. Each day I’ve felt a little better thankfully. I went to the doctor today to rule out physical cause. She didn’t find anything obvious but I still have blood labs pending that the neglected to get done. The intense labor of the Whole30 hasn’t helped my mood. No single meal is a simple grab and go and the constant preparation is taxing. in fact, I must bring this blog to a close now.

6/23/18

We are a nation of sugar addicts. “Two hundred years ago, the average American ate only 2 pounds of sugar a year. In 1970, we ate 123 pounds of sugar per year. Today, the average American consumes almost 152 pounds of sugar in one year. This is equal to 3 pounds (or 6 cups) of sugar consumed in one week” (www.dhhs.nh.gov). Sugar is everywhere in our diet slipped into breads and bacon to make them more desirable so we eat more. Here’s the little secret that is not really a secret: these foods are desirable while not satisfying so we eat more and more so we buy more. Food companies figured this out a long time ago. It’s good for business and bad for people. These are one of the tenants of the Whole 30, to become aware of how we are being manipulated this way. Whats more, like many business influenced trends, these machinations only become really effective when they are normalized by culture. Just think about how many American cultural norms involve sweets and processed food of some form: cakes at birthdays, drinking alcohol at social gathering, cheap vending food at sporting events. If you want to stand out at just about any social gathering  American society, try avoiding foods with sugars and processed foods.  Many conversations this way leading inevitably to discussion of the Whole 30. This was one of the most surprising side effects of being on this meal plan. I and my wife had to educate the waiter of a expensive steak house in Washington D.C. on the guidelines of our meal plan. Most dining out experiences will be this way. Sorry, but we can’t eat ninety five percent of the food on the menu. 

Just walking into a grocery store, I was shocked by how much was off limits: pasta, cereal, juice, etc.  That was one of the great challenges of this diet. What could we eat? Obviously, there was meats and vegetables and fruits but what about diary? beans?. They don’t have added sugar, right?  While diary and things like beans did not have added sugar they include sugars and other chemicals that aren’t necessarily healthy.(For more on this read the accompanying book It Starts With Food).  If you’re skeptical at this point, I’m understand. I’m still a skeptic. After all, the Whole 30 is another lifestyle program, one of many products that is being marketed to the public in the age of food confusion in this country.  

7/1/18

Promises, Promises...

“Systemic inflammation” seems to be the catchphrase behind the Whole 30. (There’s a lot of food science behind this that I won’t go into. Again read the book). The jist of systemic inflammation is that bad foods silently hurts your body. Over time this damage shows up as illnesses including allergies, depression, and diabetes. Eating foods that contribute to both physical and psychological well being can lead to better health. This idea seems legitimate enough but then the authors also include anecdotes by people with illnesses ranging from lyme disease to diabetes whose symptoms disappeared after being on the Whole 30. You can practically hear the credibility of the writers straining here. I had eczema before the Whole 30 and and I still have eczema after it. All in all, taking sugar out and adding more protein is beneficial to people but let’s hold off on the miracles.

While I’m on the topic of veracity, I can understand the authors of the Whole 30 exaggerating the effects of their meal plan- after all maybe one person out there with lyme disease did experience an improvement in their symptoms and, if this doesn’t happen, no one would necessarily be worse off-since their plan seems sound and is self directed for the most part. I didn’t need to constantly by products from the authors of the Whole 30.  But what about those companies that, for all intensive purposes, are influential on our health, what about the stories that the food industry tell? 

“the post-crash world appears to have become much more cynical about the behavior and motives of corporations.” (Beatte).  Unless you’ve been “off the grid” for most of your life you’re probably all too familiar with the constant avalanche of ads that are forced upon Americans everyday so much so that, like me, you’d do anything to get away from them. Now I’ve already covered the influences of advertising in another part of this blog; however, the food industry holds a special place among advertisers as, for better or worse, they often determine what we put in our bodies in this country and this isn’t necessarily due to their popularity but a well designed combination of market control and addiction.

The master plan

The current state of the American diet is, like most institutions, a result of the interaction between corporations, the government, and the individual where each party is both influential and under the influence.  However, what is key here is that the influence of the individual has eroded significantly over the years unless they happen to be wealthy enough to be influential. Government has responded more to these wealthy and corporations creating more and more of a corporate dictated agenda.   

The Food Guys

If you do a little research you’ll find that thanks to constant mergers and take overs about ten mega corporations control most of the U.S. food production. Think about that, just ten! Some are well known like Pepsico, which owns Tropicana, Quaker, Lays, while others are more obscure like Unilever that owns Knorr, Good Humor, and Skippie. Regardless, you can bet you’ve eaten something made by one of of these ten companies recently.  Much like health care and airline travel, a key aspect of weakly regulated capitalism is that power in the form of market control can be consolidated in the hands of a few major players and this is scary especially when it comes to our food.  These companies may not necessarily set out to give people cheap, poor quality food  but this arises out of an effective business model that calls for high profit and low cost and if one is successful they can dominate the market. This model may work for computers or cars but not necessarily food. 

Now before I go on lambasting corporations there are some important details to cover.  A good capitalist would probably argue that companies are simply responding to market demands. This is one of the classic “pass the buck” phrases business people use to recuse themselves(and it drives me crazy)but it is important to consider. Keep firmly in mind the question: “Who has helped create these market demands?”

Today, people have less free time to prepare and consume their meals. Yes, this seems to be the trend ever since the post World War II years when consumer culture took off in this country and packaged, processed food along with it. Appliances became more commonplace in the home, woman started to go to college and get jobs outside the home, and the car became more available. One of the largest changes in the household was the television. Now with the help of the tv dinner one could watch their favorite shows and eat at the same time. Over the years the cost of living has increased, wages have stagnated, and people have to work more than ever to keep up. Business stepped up and what started with the tv dinner has slowly blown up into a full industry of packaged, processed food. These foods were tasty and easy to make. How many times has these phrases been uttered in a food commercial?  Consider though who has influenced many of these lifestyle changes? Who has increased the working day, kept wages generally flat, and increased costs? The general picture is that businesses have either through direct influence or through influence on government public policy and today Americans are probably more stressed and less healthy than every before.

Consider how foods are advertised in this country. Let’s take the Coca Cola corporation. Coca Cola is best known for their soda but they also control a large percentage of what we drink: Perrier water, Minute maid juice, and Nos energy drink. Coca Cola often uses images of young, hip looking people smiling and drinking their soda(Heck, what company out there doesn’t use young, hip, ethnically diverse people to sell their product? That is a generalization...let us continue). These ads remind you that drinking soda (pure sugar and other flavorings in carbonated water) can be fun and social, so much more than just soda. There is of course no mention that soda with destroy your teeth and probably cripple your health over time. An advertiser would have to be insane to let on such information about their product. But imagine if they did. If there was a disclaimer at the end of soda commercials. Would it make a difference? I’m betting not and this is where the addiction factor comes in. Look at smoking. It is well known that smoking can cause serious health problems and even death.There are commercials and prints ads constantly advertising these facts yet people continue to smoke because it is addictive. In the information age, people generally know the health threats of drinking soda over a life time yet they still do. This is where individual choice does come in(more on this later) and, as mentioned before, sugar is another addictive substance and companies rely on this.

The Coca Cola corporation doesn’t claim their product is healthy but many other companies do. Take cereals. Breakfast cereals are often so processed that there is little nutritionally value, yet companies put labels on like “part of a balanced breakfast”, “containing vitamins A, B....”, “5 whole grains”. Companies attempt to replace some of the lost nutrition in these foods but they are far from healthy. Also any nutrition is offset by the amount of sugar in these cereals. This is especially tragic when one realizes that some of the worst cereals are marketed to children with flashy cartoon characters, logos, and commercials. I admit it wouldn’t take much for me to eat a bowl of Count Chocula even now knowing how bad for me it is. That is growing up in this country. I hope different for my children, but the corporate machine is hard to escape.

The Men in Black

“Read the farm bill, and a big problem jumps right out at you: Taxpayers heavily subsidize corn and soy, two crops that facilitate the meat and processed food we’re supposed to eat less of, and do almost nothing for the fruits and vegetables we’re supposed to eat more of.” (Haspel)

Healthy food like fruits and vegetables are usually more costly to grow and transport and organic food can’t use chemical pesticides,herbicides, or genetically modified organisms. Since the 1930′s the United States government has subsidized (helped pay for) farming in this country to protect our food sources as raising food can be unpredictable.  The Farm Bill began with good intentions but the money has slowly been funneled to supporting a few crops like corn and soy that are versatile and can be broken down and used in many processed and unhealthy foods. Consider that our government is supporting the production of poor quality foods? What does this mean for us? It means the commonly cited downsides of the the American diet: diabetes, obesity, heart disease, etc. all given a stamp of approval by politicians who are pledged to watch out for us. On the plus side not being subsidized is often favored by farmers as they don’t need to meet the regulations set by the government but it still means people will pay more.  People do have the choice not to eat these foods, but realistically not everyone can afford these costs and, if they can’t, people become trapped eating unhealthy food cycles not to mention deepening the already aggravated class divide in America. It’s much easier to get potato chips than organic fruit. Organic apples are on average three dollars a pound(which means about two) while potato chips are three dollars a bag. You can eat a lot more chips for the same money but the chips are sad, empty calories but, as I mentioned earlier, people will buy and eat them not because they are healthy but we have slowly become wired to do so. Currently slashing or stalling social welfare programs is the trend in government. Public policy has become heavily influenced by corporate interest over public good due in large part to funding of campaigns by companies and the wealthy ergo there is little possibility right now.

Choice of the People

Our American class structure can be seen in our food. The neighborhood I currently live in, which shall remain unnamed for reasons of privacy, is considered marginal. People are more often working class and black. This neighborhood was also known as a urban food desert for some time.(One neighborhood over is a wealthy, mostly white neighborhood with a high end, albeit expensive grocery store). Food deserts are areas without a decent source of healthy foods. They exist in the poorer sections of many major U.S. cities including New Orleans, New York, and Memphis. 7-11′s and corner bodegas often don’t count. In fact, the convenience store is one of the greatest offenders concerning food choice. They have made food too convenient. Just look at the shelves of any convenience store.

A low end grocery store finally came to this neighborhood. They stack most of their products on the floor instead of on shelves, their staff is poorly trained, and, while the store does sell fresh produce and even a little organic food if you look hard, the majority of the products are standard processed foods: Drakes desserts, chips, processed meats, etc. I’ve watched people in line with carts filled with soda. I can’t be too critical as I was making poor food choices all the same, but not on this level. Why does anyone would need ten bottles of soda? The evidence is in the obese bodies and poor skin. Yet, people consume these foods. This can be for three main reasons: they are aware but apathetic, they aren’t aware, they are aware but not doing enough or following one the ineffective “diets” out there. Often the poor and working class fall in the second category.

Back to Biology

Early humans had to eat what they could kill or gather(Raising crops for a stable source of food came later). We subsisted on meats, berries, nuts, etc. These were necessary, nutritious sources of protein and fiber. Fats and sugars were rare and highly desirable as they meant easy calories especially for lean times. This is where our evolutionary biology was cemented and still functions this way, but now we are provided a plethora of cheap fats and sugars everywhere. They taste good and give us a quick boost. But these foods don’t provide sufficient nutrition so we are constantly needing to eat more and more while gaining mostly empty calories and health problems. This makes sense if you stand back and think about it. This is the “addiction” factor that aids companies in getting us to eat poor quality food. The food makes us feel good in the short term, but in the long run we crash and need more. Thus, the “addiction” factor.

Apple or Ring Ding?

While sugar, fat, and salt can be addictive and some people have financial problems, ultimately people choose what they put in their bodies and their bodies will hold them responsible. This is especially true when we are people who know or suspect what we eat is bad for us and continue to do so.  I believe this is tied to an idea I’ve brought up before, our culture. America is the land of opportunity where we can all have the American dream that are really just that for most of us, a dream that we continue to cling too. This ability to better ourselves is both beautiful and tragic. America is a society whose people struggle to face it’s darker sides instead burying them in indulgences or placing blame elsewhere. This collective denial makes us extremely malleable. We are already primed to believe in our food, our politics, our society.  No matter how self destructive over time vices become misconstrued as personal rights. By buying gas guzzling vehicles, shopping, indulging in poor quality foods, collecting dangerous guns we declare our freedom from the system when it’s the system that is providing these.  This beautiful psychology that companies can only cheer us on and count their money. Buy more. Eat more. Excess is wonderful. Be rebellious and trendy by buying phones and drinking soda. Companies let us down, cheat us, and we still buy their products and elect officials who take their money.  We grumble when the government doesn’t punish these companies but we don’t either. Despite having mentioned the short comings and influences of corporations and government, it is up to us to determine what is good for us. I believe what we’ve lost sight of the most in this country is the sense of personal advocacy and a sense of unity to stand up ourselves, the power of the customer, of the voter. Instead we fight and criticize and go along.

The experience of the Whole 30 has helped me be a healthier person, but it has really helped me take action and reconsider my perspective concerning the food I eat. I’ve tried to relay the many facets of what I’ve learned here for others who may be curious. Also I should end with there are some positive changes on horizon.  Organic food is now available in more grocery stores than ever before. The fast casual restaurant offer healthier choices that have eaten into the profits of fast food companies like McDonald’s, all because educated customers have demanded it. However, changes need to come from the top down, from the government and that is where the real hard work comes in because first we need to heal the rifts in our society. Then maybe we can eat better.

7/5/18

The Results.

The end of the Whole 30 has arrived, well, it actually arrived more than a week ago so clearly I’m not a dedicated diarist. I’ve also done the “reintroduction” portion of the meal plan where by I bring back the foods I’ve given up.I’m going to discuss both the small scale and bigger picture results of this experiment.

The results:

I can taste more, For example, fruits are sweeter and meats are richer.

I have more consistent energy.

I don’t get as hungry between meals.

I don’t have the craving for added sugar that I once did but I can tell from sampling foods with added sugar that it is quite easy to go back.

Diary is hard on my stomach.

Alcohol gives me a headache even after one glass of wine

[lorriewarrick69-blog]

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