#Does this count as a vent?? I mean it not really a solely negative feeling

[shanedoesdoodles]

You ever look for a specific word/thing to describe a feeling you're having and think you've found it but as you look more into it it turns out it was a simular concept but very distinct from what you were looking for? And then when you try to be more specific everything that pulls up is still the same close but definitely not the same thing to describe it? I'm a stuck in a bit of a loop at the moment

[an-ambivalent]

Uchiha Therapist: Part I

Synopsis: Yandere! Madara x Reader x Yandere! Sasuke 

 [Name] is a struggling post graduate psychology student who has more on her plate than she can handle. Between her practicums to gain work experience and writing reports, to trying to maintain a decent lifestyle and look after her own mental health, there is little to no time left to work an actual paying job. Yet, money is essential for survival. So,  she does the next best thing that has been trending recently to assure a good paycheck; she becomes a sugar baby. The only thing is, [Name] is unaware that she’s become sugar baby of the Madara Uchiha, the notorious CEO of Uchiha Corporation. She is also unaware of the fact that she’s the therapist of his nephew Sasuke Uchiha, who has begun treading over the professional boundary of a patient, and has started developing an abnormal fixation for his therapist since she seems to be the only one who actually understands him.

Warning: Although this story will come to contain yandere themes that can be triggering or uncomfortable to read, there are no yandere themes present  in this chapter. It does have mentions of negative and tiring thoughts that may be triggering. Read at your own risk. This work is purely fictional and any yandere or other toxic behaviours that may be present in the future, know that I do not condone such behaviour. 

Word Count: 4K 

--

Story start; A day in the life of [Name] 

On the night that started it all, when [Name] was feeling particularly disheartened and dissatisfied with her life, she had vented her frustrations and sorrow to her good friend Ino Yamanaka. Although many things in her life were going right, and she was privileged enough to have the chance to pursue her wanted career, it came at a cost. Her entire life schedule was fixed around her post graduation studies, other little spared time was for cooking and doing chores, and the rest was for sleeping. [Name] lacked the time for earning money, and doing things that were higher on Maslow’s hierarchy of needs — dating to find someone to create a meaningful connection with, or working on her previous hobbies. 

The two friends had been consuming enough booze to be a little more than tipsy but not enough to be drunk. Some words were slurred, the fine motor control had decreased a bit, and with their faces slightly flushed, Ino was convinced that she had the best idea to [Name]’s problems. 

Giggling at her own idea, Ino had snatched [Name]’s laptop from in front of them, and tapped various keyboard keys for joogle to search up. Once she saw the results, she clicked on one of the many websites shown as a result, and after a few more minutes of more clicks and keyboard taps, she had turned the laptop towards [Name] to see, with a triumph grin on her face. 

“A sugar daddy,” Ino claimed proudly. 

[Name] raised an eyebrow. “What?” 

“A sugar daddy — it’s the perfect solution for your troubles. Not only will you get to earn more than enough, it covers the dating aspect too! Someone to spend your time with, to sleep over with — just without getting too attached. You’ll have a social life once again that doesn’t consist of you drinking booze with me or our other friends and you can finally afford to look decent again,” Ino explained straightforwardly. 

[Name]’s eye twitched. “What do you mean finally afford to look decent again?” she inquired in a low voice, and glared at Ino, who smiled sheepishly at her. 

“Well you’ve been a fashion disaster for sometime now—“

“Sorry I don’t have rich parents like the rest of you to buy me extravagant brands,” [Name] retorted, and a tick mark of anger bulged on Ino’s head. 

“Well Sakura is a commoner like you too and even when she was a starving student, she still had a fashion sense. You don’t need to buy something expensive like jucci to look decent!” Ino snapped, and [Name] scowled at her. 

“Whatever. This discussion is pointless anyway since I’m not going to become a sugar baby,” [Name] responded, and went to grab a bottle to consume more alcohol.  However, the uneasy and anxious expression that Ino wore made her halt amidst her movements. All of a sudden, a cold shiver ran down [Name]’s back, and she felt a sense of dread building up in her gut. 

“Please tell me you didn’t,” [Name] pleaded and Ino winced inwardly, before she turned the laptop around to show [Name]. 

“I did… I already signed you up. You have a date with him this Friday night.” 

“INO!” 

That was the gist of how [Name] had become entangled in her predicament with Madara Uchiha, and what was meant to be nights for [Name] giving her daddy some casual sugar, turned into an diabetic sugar addiction. 

It was baffling really, how as children, people can be better in following orders than they can be as adults. And for someone like [Name], who had been studying psychology for years now, and began to work with the theories, one would think that practicing what she preached would be easier; she was great at helping her clients, but not much at helping herself. 

“Make sure you don’t go with strangers” — a lesson that had been engraved in children at school and from their parents for their own safety. It was one of the most basic rules of common sense to evade danger; however, it was the rule [Name] failed to follow. Instead of not going through with her fixed date with a sugar daddy, who was a complete stranger and who knows pose what danger, she had gone through with it. And she had not even taken any caution to have their first meeting in a public place, no. She had gone to his home, which was the only place he accepted for their meeting, because she was too anxious to say no or not go through with it. 

She really wondered how she was able to help her clients so well when she could not even manage her own anxiety. 

So, now, here she sat. Since by Ino’s definition, [Name] was a walking fashion disaster, the blonde had refused to let her go without her help. Their tastes differed, but even [Name] had to admit that Ino had done an incredible job in helping her choose an outfit that was suited to her tastes. Granted, it was skimpier than what she usually wore and more figure defining, but it did make her look really nice. She did not look like a savage mess with evident dark eyebags who appeared to have just gotten out of bed and went to work straightaway like she did on a daily basis. But she felt exposed and uncomfortable in the setting she was not accustomed to.

The penthouse she had been invited to was extravagantly luxurious; the small dining for the two of them (her and soon to be her sugar daddy) was right next to the giant window in the living room that showed a beautiful night view of the Konoha city. Lighting in the room was ambient and romantic, and there was a small pizza, that looked ridiculously expensive for what it's worth, and red wine settled before her. While she did not want to indulge in such luxury, feeling on the edge of the seat because of how her sugar daddy to be was scrutinizing her with calculating onyx eyes, and never being the one to refuse free food, she mindlessly ate it, refusing to meet his eyes. 

“You know, usually you’re supposed to make conversation and sell yourself to try and convince me of why I should stick with you rather than someone else,” Madara spoke, and this was so abrupt and unanticipated on [Name]’s part that she froze half way through biting her food. Her cheeks felt hot in embarrassment, and she awkwardly coughed loudly before looking up at Madara. Although he found her antics to be somewhat adorable, he kept a straight face. After all, to gain the attention of a man of his status, there were many who did the strangest things to appease him. Madara was not a man to be tricked so foolishly. 

“Why should I sell myself when you haven’t convinced me to why I should be your….uh, sugar b-baby rather than s-someone else’s?” [Name] responded. She had started off strongly, but near the end when it came to referring to herself as a sugar baby and realisation of the situation sunk in, she felt herself become more flustered. 

Now, it was not odd for people to be intimidated by Madara. However, acting in confidence at the same time, and to question his authority, that was new. The corner of his lips twitched upwards in amusement. He leaned back in his chair and raised a fine black eyebrow at [Name]. 

“And why should I have to sell myself to you? I’m the one who, essentially, is paying for everything,” he challenged, and [Name] scoffed at him. 

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s really costing you,” she mumbled under her breath, before clearing her throat. “Someone else can pay me too.” 

“You had no reviews on your profile, you’re lucky that I even chose to click on it. Usually, it’s hard to get started since no one bothers with anyone with no reviews.” 

[Name] shrugged. “That was your own choice, don’t shift the situation onto me. And besides, how do you know it's only reviews that count online? I might know a lot of other sugar daddies I had in my past that desperately want me but it's lucky that I chose to give you, a stranger, the chance.” 

Madara was amused by the fact that [Name] had used his own logic against him, and could not help but smirk. Even though it was more than obvious through her behaviour that she was an absolute newbie to this, he decided to humour her. 

"Well, I am an Uchiha," Madara said simply, as if that sole reason explained everything. 

[Name] blinked in confusion. "Uhhh, okay…? Well, I'm [Surname]. That explains why you should choose me.” 

This time, her response really did leave Madara confused. His eyebrows were furrowed and there was clear confusion written on his face. 

“You don’t know the Uchiha?” he asked incredulously. The urge to sigh in an exaggerated manner and snap at him was strong, but [Name] decided against it. With the way he spoke in that condescending tone, and expected [Name] to treat him as if he was of utmost importance, made it more than obvious to her that he was used to being treated as the highest authority. Perhaps he was of importance and not watching herself around him could lead her into a huge mess. But [Name] did not particularly care about his status or whatever he had going on that made him expect her to seemingly kiss the floor he walked on. If she cared about authorities and sucking up to people, then she would not be training to be a therapist in the first place. There were going to be times when she would have to fight authorities and regulations with her sweat and blood for the sake of her clients. And really, if [Name] did care, she would not have been here in the first place -- having dinner with a complete stranger. 

“Uh I do?” she said, but it sounded more like a question. Madara opened his mouth to respond to her, but he shifted the focus of the conversation to another topic. He felt even more perplexed by [Name] now because how could she not know the Uchiha? 

“Nevermind, it’s not of importance. Tell me, why are you in this line of business? You don’t seem,” fit for it, he wanted to say, but chose his words carefully. “The type to want to do this.” 

In response, [Name] felt flustered. She wondered if it was really that obvious that she was not used to it and Madara was simply humouring her. She could very well tell him the truth that it was because Ino had tricked her into it. However, that would make her seem gullible. Now that she may be committing to this, she knew she needed to build a good reputation for herself. She decided to tell the half-truth. 

“I need the money,” she answered in a murmur, before she brought the glass of wine to her lips, and took a huge drink from it. 

Madara watched her with analytical eyes as she downed her alcohol, taking no moment to savour the taste. He had also noticed how she was on her third plate of their dinner and wondered if she had any decency and how she was capable of eating so much. 

“Your job doesn’t pay you enough?” he asked in a genuinely concerned tone, before he followed [Name]’s example and downed his remaining wine in one go too. He had never done that before, and after finishing it, he had to admit there was an odd sense of satisfaction of not savouring its every taste and drinking it all together at once. 

Madara was staring at her with anticipation and worry embedded deep in his ebony coloured irides. Frankly speaking, [Name] had not have someone look at her with such concern in a long time. Generally, on the rare occasions she did speak freely about her worries, whoever she shared her problems with would give her their own input rather than simply listening to her and asking her the right questions that would help her discuss or figure out her own problem. The sight of it made her heart beat faster, and she unknowingly found herself talking before she even what she was doing.

“It’s not that… Well, actually I don’t even work. I barely have time to breath, working is my last priority right now,” she murmured, nervously fiddling with her fingers, as she observed Madara from the corner of her eye.

“While I cannot relate to your financial struggles, I understand the situation you’re in. Becoming so busy because of a goal you once had, that you question whether it’s even worth pursuing it anymore. You lose sight of who used to be and the things that brought you pleasure. There’s always something to do that you can’t even remember the last time you truly felt alive,” Madara said thoughtfully, and his words caused [Name]’s eyes to widen. 

“And no matter how much you want to try and change things, it just feels like you’ve been stuck in the same cycle and it keeps repeating over and over and over again,” [Name] murmured, sighing dejectedly. “I really hate the world.” 

Madara chuckled at her declaration as he lifted another bottle of wine that was on their table. 

“Me too. Why don’t we discuss more things we hate about the world and learn about what we in common over more wine?” he suggested. The edge of suspicion and tenseness he held before was no longer present. Instead, he was now feeling much more relaxed than he had in awhile, and felt intrigued about [Name]. The twinkle in his eyes in hopes to talk to her more caused her lips to stretch into a cute flustered smile. 

“Sure.” 

____________________

It was the week which was like the last and there was no change but stress levels felt higher. Even after a decent ten hours sleep, [Name] felt exhaustion crawling like bugs underneath the epidermis layer of her skin. Dark bags were swelled prominently underneath her eyes. Her hair was tied carelessly in a messy bun that fell to one side; it wasn’t pretty like the one’s beauty gurus showed. It was loose but the knot was tight enough to make the weight of the hair feel too evident with each passing moment. Taking a quick sip from her steaming mocha, she greeted the administrators on the front desk that were the first point of contact between clients and the therapists who worked further back in the office. This office was where [Name] was presently working to gain practice experience in her second practicum. Generally, students in training were simply meant to observe and learn. If permission given by their supervisor, they could step in. But in [Name]’s case, for the sake of the story’s plot, the office she had chosen this time were understaffed. And since she already had finished one practicum and had quite a lot of other experiences from volunteering under her belt, she was trusted to work independently with whatever clients may be assigned to her. 

“Good morning Moegi and Konohamaru,” [Name] greeted, and the two looked up from their screens. When they noticed it was [Name], they beamed at her and returned her greeting in response. 

“How was your weekend [Name]?” Konohamaru asked, as he handed her the appointment schedule of everyone she would seeing today. 

[Name] was ready to give her autopilot response of it being "okay" and then quickly shooting a "how about you" like she usually did. However, before those words left her mouth she paused to ponder: truly, how had her weekend been? 

It was okay. Actually, it had been more than okay.

It had surprisingly been a lot of fun. When she had went through with her sugar daddy date, she had somewhat expected that she may end up having sex with a rich man she would not have been attracted to and receive compensation for sleeping with him. But that had not been the case. Madara was quite attractive, and although the dinner date had begun with a few subtle jeers thrown at each other, she had ended up having a good time with him. The fact that she felt safe enough to be vulnerable with him in the way she didn't even feel that level of comfort with her friends, and shared things she hadn't even known she was bottling up - - it was such a profound experience. To go from discussing their hatred for many things, to confessing secrets and feelings they weren't judged for, but rather, listened to, to getting so drunk that they sang cheesy songs and ended the date with their own unplanned karaoke night, it left an odd feeling of satisfaction and joy in [Name]'s chest that she had not felt in a while. The knowledge of knowing that she would be seeing Madara again soon left her feeling embarrassed. 

"It was," she began, and she covered her face with one hand to hide her embarrassment. "Really nice and fun. I had a good time," she murmured somewhat quietly. Then, right away, she scurried off towards her office before they could question her further or talk about their own weekends.

[Name] had left Moegi and Konohamaru surprised with her response, and the two turned to each other wondering if they had heard right. 

It was after lunch when [Name] was indulging in some [favourite fruit] iced tea, hoping some sugar would help her stay awake when she had an appointment with a client she would be seeing for the first time. She had settled her drink on the table beside her, walked through the hallway, and into the main office with reception and waiting area for clients. 

It was there she saw a young man not much older than herself. He had warm ivory skin and black hair bangs that framed his face. The back of his head looked like a duck’s butt. He must have heard her footsteps because before she even called out his name, he had looked up. When her eyes met his, she took a sharp intake of breath because he looked oddly similar to Madara. The way his obsidian eyes scrutinised her made her feel uneasy. Nonetheless, she gave him, what she hoped appeared to be a welcoming and reassuring smile. 

“You are Sasuke?” she assumed, and he stood up. 

“Hn,” Sasuke responded simply, and at the lack of any greeting or even a facial expression caused [Name] to sweatdrop. But nonetheless, she carried on like she did with all of her patients. 

“Before we start your session, did you want anything? A hot chocolate, coffee, water?” 

Sasuke raised an eyebrow at this before he replied nonchalantly. “A black coffee.” 

[Name] nodded and just before she could speak once more, a head of messy black curls invaded her vision and she was greeted with a smile that was almost too falsely cheerie for her taste. 

“Hello! I’m Shisui, Sasuke’s cousin. And stoic face over there is Itachi, Sasuke’s brother. You forgot about us Miss. Therapist,” Shisui greeted brightly. At his exuberant persona, Sasuke glared at him. The one who he had introduced as Itachi, sighed, and [Name] looked at them apologetically. 

“Oh sorry, I didn’t notice you. Can I get anything for you as well? If you’ve been with Sasuke until this point, I can assume you’ll be staying with him.” 

Itachi nodded and stepped up front and held out his hand for [Name] to shake, which she obliged to almost instantly. 

“Yes. We are here to oversee my little brother’s recovery at my Father’s orders and make sure there is progress,” he explained simply. His words were harsh. It was evident in the way Shisui had become tight lipped, and how Sasuke had now averted his glare onto Itachi. [Name]’s eyes shifted to observe their reaction and then returned to Itachi who was looking at her stoically. It wasn’t too obvious. However, she noticed with the way Itachi’s jaw was clenched more tightly than it had been before. This change in his body language clearly indicated that he had not wanted to say what he did and he did not want to be here. And from the intense glare Sasuke regarded him with, [Name] safely assumed that whatever was going on with Sasuke, Itachi seemed to be a part of it. Underneath Itachi’s pretty eyes, she noticed a sense of tiredness that was all — physical, mental, emotional and more. She saw that same sense of exhaustion on her own face each day. 

The session had not even started and this was already turning out to become so complicated. [Name] hoped she would still have her sanity by the time she graduated and came to do this full-time. There were some of her colleagues who never bothered with rules or following basic procedures to assure their clients comfort and wellbeing. Lucky for her clients, she did. And when she needed to, she would bend over backwards and willingly go beyond her capabilities for them. 

She knew from the way they all held themselves, and particularly with how Itachi had spoken that they were of important status. Their ‘father asked [them] to be here’ was a subtle way of implying that she could get in huge trouble if she did not comply with them. But [Name] just didn’t care. 

She turned to Sasuke with a stern look on her face and motioned towards Shisui and Itachi. 

“Do you want them there to support you or would you feel more comfortable with just you? Either way is fine. It’s your decision,” [Name] said smiling at him. 

The three raven-haired males that had been introducing themselves moments ago stilled and their eyes widened in shock. Shisui was the first one to snap out of it. 

“Uh, Miss. Therapist, I don’t think you know—“ 

“I know what I’m doing. Please refrain from implying such things and let my client decide for himself,” she retorted, narrowing her eyes. Shisui went to warn once more, but he was stopped by Itachi, who shook his head. 

Itachi’s gaze went to Sasuke, and then back to [Name] as he spoke. 

“I’m sure she knows what she is doing. We all wish for Sasuke’s wellbeing. We won’t intrude if he doesn’t want us to,” he proclaimed. That was his way of hinting for Shisui to drop the subject, and reassuring both Sasuke and [Name] that he was on their side, particularly with Sasuke, letting him know that he would not let their father find this out. 

“Aniki,” Sasuke murmured in disbelief, staring at his brother for a few moments. Then, he looked back at [Name] to see she was still giving him the same sweet and gentle smile she had greeted him with. 

Maybe, perhaps, this time, signing up for therapy would be worth it. Maybe he could allow himself to talk to her and not fear judgement and consequences like he had with his previous therapists. 

“I’d like it to be by myself,” he murmured, looking away from her with slight pink cheeks. As his eyes had drifted away from hers and met Shisui’s, who gave him a warning look, his shoulders tensed and his eyes snapped back to [Name] right away. “P-Please and t-thank you.” 

He did not need to glance at Shisui again to know the oldest male was now grinning at him. 

Seemingly, his politeness seemed to be unexpected and Sasuke wanted to scoff at how [Name]’s eyes had lit up in pride. It almost annoyed him because did they really think he was that dimwitted? 

“You’re welcome. Now, follow me please. Shisui and Itachi, our session will be around an hour so you can come to pick him up in that time,” [Name] said. The two of them nodded and waved the two goodbye as Sasuke followed after [Name] to her office. 

-------

A/N:  (tbh, uhhh, I plan for this to be a yandere story [whispers: eventually] but this chapter is fluffy. I honestly don’t know where I’m going with this or if I’ll add more Uchihas as love interests and turn into a reverse harem for [Name], I’m gonna make shit up as I go along and hope it turns into something decent lol gang gang. I just need to write a story I can write without worries and just enjoy the process of it rather than caring about where it leads. So yeet. I hope you join me on this journey <3)

[alchemist-shizun]

Nothing changes

Word Count: 1,456

Character(s): Roman

Pairing(s): None

Warning(s): Self-deprecation, toxic parenting, negative thinking, toxic relationship implied

Summary: So. Roman couldn't take all those subtle insults anymore. And what could he do about it? Apart from waiting it out until he could live by himself, absolutely nothing.

A/N: Hope you don't mind a vent fic

✾

Middle school.

Roman had been one of the lucky kids.

Not necessarily liked by every single one of his classmates, but not much disliked by them at all. Bullying hadn't bothered him in any of his school years, in fact he wasn't even sure it happened that frequently in their institute.

He had his fair share of friends, his grades were all pretty high, apart from the occasional maths test impossible to comprehend, he had an older sister that minded her own business and parents that assured him a decent lifestyle.

He didn't have much to worry about, only the normal teenage dilemmas.

« What's that? »

« Huh? »

« You have something on your face. »

Only the normal teenage dilemmas.

Roman had been up for less than an hour, talking wasn't exactly his best skill at that moment, but otherwise, he would have angered his father if he stayed silent, which was the last thing he needed as he was the one to take him to school.

« It's a mole. » no matter how many times he told him, his dad never remembered he had a mole on top of the bridge of his nose. He always said he had a dirty spot.

« No, not that one. » the man pointed his finger on his forehead.

Roman reached and found an uneven spot on his skin. Oh god no, not now. Why did puberty have to hate teens like that?

Well, what did he have to do about it?

His father returned to his newspaper reading on his phone and didn't give out any input: Roman guessed he had to fix it by doing nothing and wait for it to disappear.

Only that, it didn't disappear. It spread into many others along his face and he slowly developed the urge to press them all, to which, eventually, he gave in.

Of course, his dad's derision wasn't late to the party either.

Every single bit of interaction they had ultimately focused on some part of Roman's body he didn't like, anything that wasn't exactly perfect was his ideal easy target. And it wasn't like Roman could disagree, what he said were simple facts that subtly left him feeling offended.

That little speck of time they spent together in the morning before and during their car ride to the school, lunch, dinner, the only times they were around each other were enough of a reason for some criticizing to take place.

He felt his pride sink down with every word, but he hung on his sister's words. « It's normal, he was like that with me, too. »

That meant he was going to stop, right?

He told himself way too many times that his arguments with his father were simple routine during his age for him to believe it anymore.

High-school.

« So, how did it go? » Roman's mother was sleeping on the couch, while his dad sat next to her, brand new iPad in his hands.

Why, you actually care?

« It went well, our art teacher is hilarious. » he eyed him while eating some pasta his mum had cooked as he was coming home. His father got up to get ready for work again.

« Yeah? »

« Mhm. He- » Roman smiled as he was talking. Bad decision, he shouldn't have done that.

The man narrowed his eyes at him. « Wait. » he got closer and basically inspected his face, demanding him to keep his mouth open as if he were at the dentist.

Even with no audience to see that scene, that was one of the most embarrassing things he asked him to do. Suddenly, he was reminded of that one time he had started to sniff his hair like some kind of dog, trying to prove the point that he smelled bad instead of simply saying "hey, take a shower". 

« Can't you see your teeth are a bit crooked? »

« I've had braces for five years. »

« I know, but I still don't think they're, you know, perfect. » he marked the last word with emphasis as if he didn't actually mean that word.

« Whatever. » Roman added in a low tone, defeated by yet another imperfection he couldn't fix. It wasn't like that wasn't the first time he told him that.

« What? » his dad's eyes grew hard.

Fix it, you idiot.

Panic rose in his chest, his heartbeat increased and he felt his mind racing. All for an insignificant answer.

« Ah. Nothing important. »

His father eyed the clock and fled the scene as he noticed he was getting late. Shortly thereafter, his mother would have followed.

It went like that for literal years.

His hair, his face, his teeth, his body, his fingers. He talked and his father never listened, he only focused on something to pick on him. Something he could use to graze his self-esteem away bit by bit.

Until nothing about him really appealed him anymore. Until Roman started avoiding mirrors by instinct, until he tried to cover everything with makeup but eventually failed cause he never had enough time.

Until he stopped saying "thank you" to compliments and instead started disagreeing. "I don't believe you", "That's not true", "You're talking about yourself".

He forgot how to accept people's love, which led to him having a twisted version of it in his mind. When his first boyfriend arrived, he thought being more mocked than appreciated was the normality for everybody. He thought having "I hate you" being told to him instead of "I love you" was fine. That the only time his boyfriend ever meant he sincerely loved him had to be in very rare and extreme circumstances and he didn't even remember when that had happened last. 

And when he stopped talking to him for days as punishment since he got annoyed at Roman for simply existing, Roman believed he deserved it and coexisted with the anxiety and anguish while waiting for him to come back.

It took him almost two years to recover from that, at least partially. 

Two years to be able to love again and know better.

But his father didn't stop. Sure, he might have slowed down, but never ceased to point out the first thing that came in his mind. 

Roman developed anxiety at the sole thought of them being in the same room, of his dad stomping his feet while going up the stairs, of when he opened a door with that usual loud noise. His almost constant yelling. Him creeping up behind him to read his messages, him sitting next to or in front of Roman during meals. His father just being there with his forever angered presence.

« Why does your face look like that? »

God please why, I'm just eating, leave me alone, just go to work I beg you.

Roman shrugged. 

« Have you looked in a mirror? » as a matter of fact, no. « You're full of red spots, you're going to end up with a ruined face. But if that's what you want. »

The only thing I want as of now is ripping my entire face off, thank you very much.

He felt numb, but at the same time a fiery rage rumbled in his stomach. He just had to ... repress it. Like any other time.

In the meantime, his dad had started making a fuss out of it, calling his very tired wife to take a look at his son and "tell him what they had to do to fix that". 

With a knowing look of "yes, I know this is normal, we all went through this when we were young apart form him, apparently", she said nothing and waited for him to stop rambling. 

« Well, whatever. Bye. » and, as fast as he came, he was gone, storming down the stairs to get to his car.

And Roman? 

Well, Roman sat there, ripping apart a slice of bread the way he would have wanted to rip apart either his existence or his own father. That was a choice he would have left to fate. 

He didn't exactly register anything his mother told him, ignoring the same old recording he always went through when it came to his face's imperfections.

He went upstairs and didn't really bother to open the windows or think about the huge amount of studying the had to do.

He laid on his bed in the darkness that his eye adjusted to too quickly. Then, he pulled out his earbuds and drowned himself in music.

The urges he felt and the anger at the pit of his stomach slowly disappeared as he distracted himself with the melodies.

Nothing else really mattered. 

[bakahimesama]

Ruby’s Mental State

So this is a quick analysis, because I can’t find anyone else who’s done this for some reason. But I just re-watched the Red Trailer (to get hyped for tomorrow), and I had an epiphany halfway through. This is veeeery long, with some spoilers near the end, so:

Grimm are attracted to negative emotions, everyone knows that at this point. In WoR, Qrow briefly explained that Patch (the island Ruby and Yang grew up on), is a relatively safe place to raise a family. Which means there aren’t many Grimm, and any Grimm that are there, are low in number, and relatively easy to defeat.

So in Red, Ruby is still clearly on Patch, as she just visited her mother’s grave. When she leaves it, she’s surrounded by Grimm. I never thought anything of this, until I remembered why Grimm show up in the first place. So I went back through the trailer and counted them all on the lowest speed. For the first half I counted them as she killed them, for the second half I counted how many were on screen before she activated her semblance.

Ruby’s negative emotions were so strong, that she attracted a total 54 Grimm to her.

54 Grimm, in a forest clearing, on a “family safe” island, were attracted to 1 girl! Even in the Emerald Forest, I counted 15 Grimm that were attracted to 8 people. And we saw from the other 3 trailers, that what happened in these videos are canon. Which demonstrates, not just how bad ass Ruby is, that she could fight all those Grimm off without a scratch. But also, that whatever was going on in her head, was DARK. Since hoards of Grimm aren’t swarming her constantly in the present, I can assume she’s either worked through her emotions, or suppressed them enough to no longer be noticeable. Or, maybe it’s something else.

Throughout the video I noticed her gritting her teeth about 5 or 6 times. Teeth gritting is usually because: you’re working with something heavy, you’re angry/annoyed/frustrated, or you’re bracing yourself for something. Consider she can take on 54 Grimm and come out unscathed, I don’t think the weight of Ruby’s weapon is a problem. And since the only time she braces for anything is when one Grimm attacks her, right before she turns on her semblance, all the other times she gritted her teeth are likely out of anger/annoyance/frustration. 

It’s these little moments that lead me to believe, that Ruby’s dark emotions aren’t suppressed, they’re just hidden. She knows how to temporarily lock them away, but eventually, she needs to vent. So she goes into the woods, and lets her negative thoughts take the forefront, attracting Grimm (like how little red riding hood’s innocence, made her a target of the big bad wolf). She then proceeds to slaughter ever last Grimm that comes after her. Once they’re dead, she hides her feelings away, and puts her mask back on. From the way she acts throughout the trailer, it’s almost like none of this is new to Ruby. This kind of seems like something she’s done before. Maybe even many times before. Yet, for all the times she’s potentially vented like this, it’s never enough. She’s always willing and ready to kill more Grimm.

As an extension of this, I noticed Ruby’s tendency to hack off limbs, instead of just killing the Grimm and getting it over with. She does just kill them sometimes, and favors decapitation when she does it, but if she knows no other Grimm are getting too close, she’ll take the time to go for the legs and arms, before she gives a killing blow.

I always found the scene above kind of funny, but now that I’m really looking at it, I see that it’s likely an extension of her venting her feelings.

Which brought me to her weapon. As Ozpin explains it, the scythe is “one of the most dangerous weapons ever designed.” Meaning, not only only is it a bitch to learn how to wield properly, but if you do master it, it will be deadly without much effort on your part. It’s perfect for hacking Grimm to pieces. And while, yes fighting Grimm is a huge part of being a hunter, we’ve seen from the numerous other weapons on the show, Ruby could have easily picked something else. So why pick a weapon notorious for being so dangerous? Well, a weapon says a lot about it’s owner, no?

In my quest for more concrete answers, I turned to the soundtrack. In RWBY, more than in any other show, movie, or video game I’ve seen, the songs tell stories; stories that foreshadow the plot of the show (example, “I’m the One” explaining Mercury and Emerald’s backstories). Surprisingly, the lyrics in “Red Like Roses” doesn’t tell much. It basically gives a one sentence summary of each of the 4 main girls. “Red Like Roses Part II″, however, is a whole other monster.

(credit to FlyntofRWBYNation for the video, and madiniwa for the background picture)

Looking at the lyrics here, Ruby was clearly hit hard by her mom’s death. Yang tells Blake that Ruby was too young to understand what was going on. But according to Ruby (I wasn’t dreaming when they told me you were gone, I was wide awake and feeling that they had to be wrong), she understood perfectly, she was just in denial, the 1st stage of grief. So what stage is she on now? From the tone of the song, she’s some mix of anger and depression. Looking at the show, she seems to be faking acceptance, so no one is really concerned about her. But looking at her choice of weapon, her brutality against Grimm, and the not-so-subtle hints her song are throwing at us, I’d say Ruby is far from okay.

Yet no one, even in the show, seems to notice. Why? Because Ruby’s been faking for so long, they can’t tell it’s not the truth. After Summer died: Tai shut down, Yang learned about Raven and started to focus on her, and Qrow, was probably still drinking, likely more than he does now. Which left Ruby as the sole person able hold her family together. A job that she shouldn’t have had, but no one else was going to do it, so she stepped up.

She learned to fake a smile. She figured out how to pushed down her negative feelings. She became a beacon (no pun intended) of hope, happiness, and endless optimism for the rest of her family. And she did that so consistently, for so long, that everyone believed Ruby had come to terms with Summer’s death, and moved on seamlessly. Even though, through her actions and choices, we can see that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Once Ruby got to Beacon, it seemed like she was going to eventually be able to work out her feelings. She was in an environment that encouraged hunting Grimm after all, plenty of opportunities to vent. Maybe she’d even grow comfortable enough to finally talk to someone properly. But: Penny died in front of her eyes, then Pyrrha, Yang lost her arm, Beacon is abandoned, Haven is next, Salem is after her because of her eyes, Qrow almost died, Ren went through some heavy shit, Jaune is still going through some heavy shit, and the group is about to have to process everything that is Oscar.

Ruby is, once again, forcing herself to be the positive one in the group. She’s stuffing all of her dark emotions away, like she always has, and is straining to stay optimistic. But there aren’t going to be enough fights, enough chances to vent, for her to be able to keep this up forever. Eventually, Ruby is going to have to either talk about her true feelings, or explode under the pressure of her facade. 

And we all know what happens when she explodes.

May the old Gods have mercy on whoever’s in range.

[sequoiann]

❧ l.wz | doubt

pairing; seventeen woozi x reader

genre; angst, fluff at the end !!

synopsis; you’re insecure about everything. he could get someone better, so why hold on to you?

word count; 2.2k words

notes; sorry for not posting much the past few days !! my exams are finally over now so i can hopefully return to my original posting schedules? i’ll try at least aha // o right nd a little spoiler for u all ; do look forward to a long-ass ceo!mingyu and secretary!vernon fic that is in process rn ;)

How’s tour?” you asked, sitting in front of your MacBook placed on your marble desk. You brought your legs up to your chest, hugging it close as if you were cold, although you were already donning a thick hoodie. Resting your chin on your knees, you just stared at Jihoon who was on the other side of the video call. It was past midnight, but you stayed up, regardless. It was the only time when you could actually talk to your boyfriend.He lets out a sigh, leaning back onto the headrest of his bed. You could see the wooden board behind him, and you caught glimpses of his white sheets. “Tiring, as usual,” he said. “But it’s fun.”

You smiled slightly. “It must be. I saw your Going Seventeen episodes.”

Jihoon chuckles. “Yeah, that.”

Out of the blue, you heard a lady’s voice in the background, and Jihoon’s attention turned to the woman, his head tilting up slightly and looking past the screen as he hummed in response to the voice. 

Your facial muscles twisted themselves into a frown, but you casually hid your face behind your knees, only allowing the upper half of your face to be seen. Not like it mattered actually; he wasn’t even looking at you to notice. 

“Be sure to sleep early,” you heard the woman say, and Jihoon smiles, nodding before turning back to you. 

He laughs as he sees you hidden behind your own legs. “What’re you doing?”

“Who was that?” you asked, making sure you didn’t sound upset. You didn’t want to be petty. 

“Suri? She’s just my stylist,” Jihoon said, and you ‘oh’ed.

This time, Jihoon frowns at your curt reply. “Is everything alright?”

You immediately nod, so sharply that you seemed desperate for him to believe you. “Yeah, of course.”

Jihoon doesn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t probe. 

“You should sleep,” you said. “You have schedules tomorrow.”

“Already?” Jihoon whined. “We haven’t talked for long.”

“But I’m tired,” you lied. “I’m sure you are, too. We can talk tomorrow.”

Jihoon took the bait and shrugged. “Alright then. Sweet dreams, babe.”

You smiled, but you weren’t sure if the grin was entirely genuine. “Good night.”

Hanging up the video call, you immediately closed your laptop and walked over to your bed, climbing under the covers and turning off your warmly-lit bedside lamp — the only source of light that was turned on. 

Your mind was clouded grey, fairly matching the shade of your surroundings as moonlight danced lazily past your blinds. Jihoon was in his room. A room in a hotel, for sure, since he was at Manila for his world tour. Then why was his stylist, a female, in his room at this time of the night? The way he had smiled at her, was like the way he smiled at you. 

You shook your head. No, don’t think like that. Jihoon isn’t like that.

But no matter how much you tried to pound your own thoughts down, they wouldn’t dislodge themselves and seemed to only negatively build up. 

Your mood was ricocheting between low and lower. You pictured a slim, beautiful lady, and the fact that she was a stylist probably would greatly contribute to her looks. And the fact that she can be with him every single day, through his tours, and you couldn’t… 

Everything was just piling on top of each other. Unconsciously, your eyes fall shut, and a lone tear squeezes its way out of your tear glands and trickles down your face, for once not making you look like a mess that you internally were. 

That call was a big addition to your growing list of insecurities about your relationship with Jihoon. Jihoon had been calling you less, but no, it wasn’t his fault since he was an idol — you understood that. You really did. But somehow, at the same time, you somehow didn’t want to come to terms with it. You didn’t want to concede that that was the sole factor of why he wasn’t calling, and why your conversations became so much more dull, so much more insipid. 

‘Suri’, as he had introduced his stylist, could be the reason too, isn’t it? Or anyone else, for that matter. He could get so many other girls. Any other girl.

There goes your thoughts again, leading their own way. 

You subconsciously started beating yourself up; you were suddenly drained of all your energy. The pretty blue skies, the clouds out — that was something that made you smile every day; you loved seeing sunlight peek past those make-believe cotton candies. But everything gradually became bleak and tenebrific. Nothing really mattered anymore. It was as if you were going through post-symptoms of a breakup, but you were still in the relationship. That made you even more afflicted because you no longer knew the meaning of your love. 

You lost your appetite along with your spirit, and meals suddenly became a commonly unpicked option in your daily life. Calls were shortened or declined, messages lessened or ignored. 

The dawn sun peered through a hazy screen of clouds, painting the sky an elaborate mix of bloodied reds and vibrant oranges, intertwined with smoky greys that permeated the skyway canvas, showing hints that it may bring a mild drizzle later on.

You straightened out your legs whilst still lying down, arching your back a little as you stretched yourself out. You pushed the blankets off, immediately feeling the warmth of sleep slowly begin to slip away. Standing up, your bare feet pressed softly against the cushy carpet.

Another day to get by, you thought. 

You headed to your washroom to brush your teeth and rinse your face and all that stuff. 

Your doorbell suddenly rings, making you jump. Your eyes traveled to the clock hanging on the wall, its hands pointing to 11am. Pretty late already, so you held back your irritance about someone coming over ‘so early in the morning’.

Quickly glancing down at yourself, you internally thanked the heavens that you were appropriately clothed — brown pullover with grey sweatpants. Presentable, you would dare say. 

 You wiped your wet hands on the towel hanging beside the sink and combed down your hair, running your fingers through it to give it some natural ‘volume’, before rushing to the door.

You pressed down on the handle and pulled the door open, and a man all too familiar to you stands behind it.

Jihoon. 

“J-Jihoon.” You were so taken aback that you stumbled on your words. “I thought you were returning tomorrow.”

He steps in, and you let him. He closed the door behind him and pulled you in a hug, and your chin rested on his shoulder. But somehow, you couldn’t feel the warmth that his hugs usually had. You found yourself hesitating to hug him back. 

You haven’t seen him for 3 months, mind you.

“Yeah, I was supposed to. Surprise,” he said, chuckling. “I missed you.”

You didn’t know how to respond; you knew he knows that there was something going on. And the point that he wasn’t questioning you made you confused. 

Jihoon let you go, and the look in his eyes confirms your thoughts. He does know that something is wrong. He just doesn’t know what. 

“Why didn’t you reply to my messages?” he asked. “I was worried.”

“I was busy with school,” you said, avoiding his gaze indifferently. “You don’t have to be.”

“Then what happened to our night calls?” 

“I… had to finish assignments. Finals are coming up.”

Jihoon frowns, but you tried to shake off the atmosphere that was building tension. “You must be tired. Do you want to go sleep? We can go out for lunch or dinner later.”

Jihoon raised a dubious eyebrow, unfazed. “Y/N, is something wrong?”

You let out a laugh. “No, what could be wrong?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking,” he said. “Why did you lose so much weight?”

You weren’t going to spill everything here. You cocked your head to a side, then looked down at yourself. “I did?”

Jihoon was now getting frustrated. “Yes, you did. Now tell me, what happened? Did someone hurt you?”

“No, it’s nothing,” you insisted, but your voice broke slightly at the last word. No, you told yourself, you were going to hold out. It’s funny how you were putting on a brave front in front of Jihoon, when he used to be someone you could just cry your eyes out to. Your eyes were starting to glisten, the brown orbs looking like they were encased in glass. “I said it’s nothing.”

Jihoon’s expression hardens, but his gaze was still soft. It made you look away from him, and the uncontrollable sniff gave you away. 

“Y/N,” Jihoon said, his voice grim. “Why aren’t you telling me---”

“Because there’s nothing to tell you,” you reiterated as firmly as you could, your gaze dropping. 

Jihoon went silent for a moment, his gaze not shifting off you, while your eyes constantly shifted from one place to another, trying to find something to focus on. Jihoon’s jaw clenches for a moment but releases a second later.  

“Is it because it’s because of me?” he asked, as if he had been trying to phrase the question properly in his head for the past few seconds of quietness. 

You didn’t reply, and that was the answer to his question. 

“It is,” he confirmed himself. “Why? Did I do something?” Jihoon was sounded almost desperate to get you to talk to him.

You didn’t know what to say to him.

“Just tell me, Y/N!” Jihoon vented, possible too brutally, but he was getting annoyed at your obstinacy. “I did something wrong, and you’re supposed to tell me what it is! I’m your boyfriend, I should never be the one making you upset!”

You snapped your head up, your eyes now just slightly bloodshot. “Fine, I’m upset, I’m hurt! Happy now? I don’t deserve this relationship, Jihoon. I don’t want to be in this relationship. You’re better. You deserve better, not this. I can never be with you all the time, I can never give you some things that other girls would definitely be able to give you. I’m tired of being afraid that our relationship would break, I’m tired of being insecure that you’d find someone else! That girl in your room the other day, your stylist or whoever the hell you said she was, I brooded on that, and I kept thinking about everything else. It’s like our relationship is dying, but it’s annoying the fuck out of me because I still love you. I’m sorry I’m making such a big fuss about everything, but I spent the last three months feeling like I wasn’t actually loved back, okay!?”

You were a crying mess now, your chest heaving as you breathed heavily. You looked away from him again, pulling your hand back from his to wipe your tears away. You took a couple of deep breaths to calm the wracking sobs from inside of you. 

“I-I’m sorry,” Jihoon muttered, in a state of shock. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think so much about that, I didn’t think about your feelings… I’m so, so sorry, Y/N.”

You let out a soft grumble, your tears starting to stop its endless flow after hearing Jihoon's softened voice. He wraps his arms around you once again, this time tighter. Sighing quietly, you knew you would never be able to stay angry at him. He’s Jihoon, after all.

“I love you, Y/N, I really do. I don’t deserve better, there’s nothing better than you. I don’t want us to end. I’m sorry for neglecting us during the tour. I was really busy, but I know I should’ve talked to you, I’m sorry.”

Your face was buried in the pit of his neck, and this time, you hugged back. “It’s okay… Just… at least focus on the call next time or something.”

Jihoon nodded, planting a soft kiss on your head. The both of you stayed there for a little while with him swaying you side to side every now and then, before he loosened the embrace, and his hands drifted to your waist. It settled there and he pulled you closer. His face angled to the side slightly as he gently pressed his lips to yours. 

I love you, his whispered against your lips, and you smiled through your own tear-streaked face.

I love you too. 

[parsonsjessica1989]

Save Marriage After Abuse Healing Incredible Cool Ideas

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How To Stop Divorce Proceedings

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[buzzmery]

23 Ways To Reconnect together with your Spouse

How To Reconnect together with your Spouse Do you want to reconnect together with your spouse?

Wait, there may be a better question.

Do you get to find some ways to reconnect together with your spouse?

Let me know if any of those statements sound familiar.

You feel a scarcity of affection.

Bickering quite usual.

You have that “off” feeling.

And this next one is some things I feel we've all experienced at some point in our marriage.

You find yourself watching your partner as a roommate. Literally crossing each other’s paths and perhaps exchanging a couple of words.

That is the worst. Once this happens, it is often hard to require the primary steps toward getting things back on target.

We tend to consider big issues taking a toll on a relationship. But I feel the day to day grind is often enough to place a couple of cracks within the foundation.

The daily interactions (or lack thereof) are important dangers.

It is not always obvious that they're even happening. Until at some point, it all hits you. And you begin to question how the heck you bought here.

When did you become too busy to smile or laugh? So quick to become annoyed. Your patience is essentially non-existent.

You start to believe the way to reconnect together with your spouse before it's too late. Before your relationship has walked all the thanks to the very end of the plank. One little gust of wind and it's taking place.

These ideas have helped my marriage. and that they can help yours.

This post contains affiliate links, which suggests I'll receive a little commission, at no cost to you, if you create a sale through a link. As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases.

Here Are 23 Ways to Reconnect together with your Spouse 1) Be Nice How often are we quick to let the steady stream of negative word vomit begin of our mouths? on behalf of me, it's more often than I might like.

What if we were just nice? What if we just used basic manners?

This may seem obvious. But take a significant check out how you and your partner treat one another.

Are you truly nice to every other?

2) Hold Hands I love holding hands. It takes me back to the times of dating. Back when my husband would hold my hand for very long amounts of your time.

It didn’t matter how sweaty his hand got. He didn't dare take that hand away.

After 12 years, he has become far more comfortable letting me know that his hand needs an opportunity. But the purpose isn't to carry hands for 3 hours.

Heck, it is often for 3 minutes.

3) Hug I am not close to saying you would like to hug for two minutes or it doesn’t count.

But you would like to hug.

A hug may be a simple thanks to showing someone you care.

4) Kiss When was the last time you kissed? Like really kissed!

Not just a fast peck on the answer to the door.

5) Laugh Do something together that brings out those good belly laughs.

In my house, the go-to for a few laughs maybe a comedy special on Netflix.

You can even try making a funny face to interrupt the ice. which will sound silly but I’m telling you it works!

6) Compliment Give your partner a compliment. Simple as that.

This could be about appearance (my husband likes once I compliment his hair).

Or the way they did something. Anything!

We could all use that tiny boost that a compliment gives us.

7) Listen Let your partner take the ground.

Do you ever desire one person starts talking than before you recognize it a full-blown competition has begun to see who had a harder day? Who is more tired? Who wins the award for putting up with the foremost sh*t?

The one-up game has begun and it always ends with neither person feeling very validated with their feelings.

One of the simplest gifts you'll give someone is your full attention. Your ear for them to vent to.

8) Thank Them The other day I used to be lecture a girlfriend of mine. We were talking about how hard our husbands work and the way much we appreciate it.

Then we started talking about what proportion we allow them to know this stuff. Let’s just say it had been not too often.

Next time you're feeling thankful for your partner, try saying it aloud (to them of course).

9) mention the Past Remember when. Two words that have sparked a number of my favorite conversations.

Sometimes an honest little reminiscing session is sweet for the soul.

10) mention the longer term Do you and your partner discuss your goals? Both personal and therefore the goals you've got together.

It is fun to speak about what you see for the longer term. And it's even more fun to match the differences in what you both see.

11) Talk How are you? does one need anything? am I able to assist you with anything?

Make sure you're talking about quite how high the water bill was. Or what percentage times your child pooped that day.

12) Send a Sweet Text I like this one because it takes but a moment. this is often a particularly simple and time-effective thanks to reconnecting together with your spouse.

13) Put Your Phones Down My husband and that I have had many talks about what proportion we are on our phones. We always come to an equivalent conclusion. it's the way an excessive amount of.

Set aside a while that phones got to be put away!

Your phone could also be small in size but it is often sort of a wall up your relationship.

14) Play a Game Boggle may be a favorite in my house! a touch-friendly competition is sweet for your relationship.

UNO and Yahtzee are good ones too!

15) Love Note You could send a love note during a text. But there's just something a few billets-doux on paper.

16) Plan a Date Night Date nights are necessary.

Check out these ideas for at-home date nights. These are great when leaving the home is just not an option.

But every once during a while, you would like a date night out. These inexpensive date nights are bound to please!

17) Surprise! This doesn't need to be a grand gesture. I mean it is often. If that's how you roll.

But I'm more pertaining to making a favorite dinner or stocking the fridge together with your partner’s drink of choice.

A little surprise that says you were thinking of them.

18) Cuddle Physical touch can easily dwindle in relationships.

I think it's often one of the primary things to travel away which is such a shame. Physical touch is so vital for a thriving relationship.

Get your cuddle on.

Have a partner that's not an enormous fan of cuddling? this is often the boat I'm always in.

But if it's something that's important to you, then it must happen (even if it's just for 5-10 minutes).

19) Relax Sit on the couch (or lay in bed), put something on the TV, and just relax.

Sometimes, you've got to enjoy the silence. and luxuriate in just being in each other’s presence.

20) Be Honest OK, I do know my relationship isn't the sole one that has some assuming happening.

Maybe your partner goes through something at work and hasn’t been completely open about it. Maybe you're having a problem and haven’t shared it.

This can cause us to assume how the opposite person is feeling. and lots of time we are wrong. we've blown something out of proportion before we even know the small print.

Being open and honest can work wonders. And it can definitely clear up some misunderstandings!

21) Show Support Having someone in your corner is during an ll|one amongst|one in every of"> one among the simplest parts of being in a relationship.

You and your spouse should be there to root one another on. albeit you don’t completely understand or accept as true with what they're doing.

22) Slow Dance What was your wedding song?

Play it and make your kitchen the floor.

23) Leave a Note I like to place a post-it note on my husband’s wallet. the toilet mirror works great too.

Even a note on the front entrance may be a nice touch. Then the last item they see as they're leaving the home is something that creates them smile.

[snarktheater]

Book review — Stranger Than Fanfiction

After loving Chris Colfer's Land of Stories series, I picked up his latest book without a second thought. What a fool I was.

You know how "don't write a self-insert" is such a common writing advice that it has people arguing against it, and not unreasonably so, on the grounds that any character one writes has an element of oneself, and desperately trying to avoid that only results in trite, flat characters because you have no real experience to ground them in?

Yeah, well this book reminds you why it's a common advice in the first place. Oh, but don't worry, it also does so much more wrong! It's like a massive clusterfuck of "why do you waste my time so?" Really, this could have had its own snark. You've been warned.

Stranger Than Fanfiction is the story of five characters. Or, really, four plus one characters. Four kids just out of high school, who are faced with the dramatic change of going to college, being split from their best friends by virtue of going to live all across the States, and each with one (1) personal conflict. It's paint-by-the-numbers character arc for a coming of age story…or at least, that's the concept. But before I get to the details, we also have our fifth protagonist, Cash Carter, who's an uber-popular actor famous for a series aimed at young adults and totally not the author's avatar. Ahem.

The plot is this: out four kids are Christopher "Topher" Collins (who may or may not be a second self-insert, yes, really), Sam Gibson, Joey Davis, and Moriko "Mo" "I couldn't be bothered to use my Japanese character's full name, and I don't know if that reflects more badly on my characters or myself as an author, but probably both". They're going on a road trip together before college, and Cash crashes the trip after Topher sends him a heartfelt letter (which he has for most of his teenage years). If you have issues with this premise, congratulations on realizing that an actor hanging out with teenage fans is a little bit creepy and not…whatever the book thinks it is, exactly.

Cash is essentially a Manic Pixie Dream…Celebrity, for lack of a better term. His role in the plot is to provide each of our protagonist with an easy out to their issues (and don't worry, I'll get back to that in a moment), while vomiting bitter thoughts about the famous life. Considering his viewpoints are never even challenged by the narrative, it's hard to feel like this is anything but the author's own thoughts. That, or Chris Colfer is actually a mediocre author who got a publishing deal solely based on his pre-established fame, but that could never happen. His style totally doesn't have a million amateur mistakes that a professional should have caught, either.

But really, even if these aren't the author's views and he's just presenting an argument in abstract…he doesn't really do that well, either. Because he lumps together paparazzi and rabid, stalking fans on one hand (which…is a problem) with critics, of all things. How dare people hold you accountable, right? It's not like everyone is accountable to someone, and the only difference when you're a celebrity is scale, because 1) more attention means more people you're accountable to and 2) more influence means your actions have bigger consequences.

And it's really hard to feel sad for Carter who just "can't even be young" (because being young always entails wild partying, sex, and drugs, right?). I'm sorry, but the guy is, in universe, filthy rich and headlining the most popular show on television. And if that doesn't make up for it, keep in mind that he could just…you know, keep it on the down low. What most teenagers who act up have to do anyway, if only because they don't want their parents to find out.

Look, it's not like our society has no legit issues with its handling of celebrities. Yes, privacy is something everyone deserves. Yes, sex negativity is bad, and our relationship to recreational drug use needs a serious change towards a more accepting stance that will lead to more responsible use. But it's really hard to care about any of that when it's presented like…this:

You know it's bad when there's a dead meme that already makes fun of what you're doing.

If you agree with anything I just said, well, your enjoyment of this book is compromised, because Cash Carter rants often, a lot, and keeps using the same talking points. It's almost embarrassing—or it would be if it wasn't so annoying too. If you needed to vent, writing a novel wasn't the solution, Mr Colfer.

Okay, that's one protagonist out of the way. Let's look at our coming of age stories for this book, how our Manic Pixie Dream Whiner comes into them, and why it all fails so, so very hard.

The easiest is Topher, because…well, he doesn't really have a problem. I mean, he does, but it's not an internal problem, because I guess the author knows what a coming of age story is, what a character arc is, but not which character arcs work for a coming of age story. So Topher has a sick younger brother and a single mom to take care of both of them. His "problem", if you can call it that, is that he's staying in his hometown to go to a lesser college to help his mom take care of his brother. Wow.

Next is Sam. Sam is a trans boy in the closet. So far in the closet that, until his gender is "revealed" in his first PoV chapter, he's actually referred to by "she" pronouns (including in said PoV), which I'm fairly certain is a bad idea. You're literally using the narration to perpetuate the idea that being trans is a "twist", a surprise. Or dare I say…a trap? That's probably not the intent, mind you, but it's still what it comes across. Sam also has the distinction that Topher has a crush on him. More on that in a moment.

Joey is our token black gay. I mean, token black guy who happens to be gay. He's gay. That's his conflict. Well, specifically, he's gay and his family is very religious and openly homophobic, but still. Also, he plans to get laid during the road trip.

Finally, we have Moriko. As you might have guessed, I'm already annoyed that the book consistently refers to her as "Mo", because it sounds a lot like Japanese names are just too complicated for this book. As another token (and yes, she and Joey really feel like tokens rather than part of a diverse cast), she also has a pretty weak conflict. Basically, she wants to go to a writing school, her dad wants her to go to a "serious" college instead, to have a career that makes money and stuff. I'm pretty sure it's a racial stereotype of some kind.

So how does this all play out? Well, I'm glad you asked. Three of our protagonists are keeping a secret, and they all eventually confess that secret to Cash, even though Cash proves to be a giant, self-absorbed asshole. That actually sort of works, and even starts like a pretty standard character arc. But then there's the resolution. Which is to say: Cash outs all of their secrets. At once. To everyone else.

Considering two of three secrets are characters in the closet, we already have a very bad start. Outing people is not okay, you guys. Don't do it. Even if you're 1000000% positive that it won't have negative consequences, just…don't do it. If someone came out to you, they trusted you with a very important secret, do not betray that trust.

But on a pure writing level, this is also…very weak. It means the characters don't progress or grow; instead, they're just forced to deal with the consequences of their secret being out in the open. It forces three of your four protagonist to be reactive characters instead of proactive ones; and since the fourth protagonist is completely passive, he's not faring much better.

So after that "climactic" (using the term very generously) reveal, we follow…Topher, the guy who had nothing bad happen to him. Well, okay, his crush on Sam was also put out in the open, but come on, that doesn't count. All he has to deal with is knowing that his crush is a boy, and the book phrases it in the most ambiguous way possible that ends up kind of implying he still sees Sam as a girl, kind of, sort of? He says he wants them to be "gray" (as in, in a gray area) together, even though Sam's gender is pretty clear-cut and there's a word for a person who's attracted to girls and boys. It's "bisexual". It's not used in the book at all.

The rest of the cast? Well, now that their secret is out to their best friends, I guess they're suddenly fine coming out to the rest of the world too. Or, in Moriko's case, to just tell her dad no, and to emotionally blackmail him into accepting her choice. But that's okay, because the end justifies the means?

Meanwhile, Joey's kicked out of his home, but Topher's family takes him in and his mom will still talk to him…just, you know, not at home and while trying to make sure she's not seen by anyone. Yes, this is a thing that happens and it's treated as a joke that Joey's mom is ashamed to meet him. Ha ha ha. Sam's mom (also a single parent, it's kind of weird how three of the protagonists have those) accepts her son, on the other hand. And yes, there's something a little weird about how both white protagonists have wonderful accepting parents and get everything they want, while both the black boy and Japanese girl have awful parents and lose something to get their happy ending. It just reeks of "you didn't even stop to think about it, did you?"

As for the resolution of Cash's character…if you can call if that…well, he was dying of cancer the whole time, and all his acting up was the result of wanting to live his life to the fullest before dying. He also leaves huge sums of money to the protagonist (after they forgive him) so they can all go for their respective dreams (and in Topher's case, abandon his mom and brother guilt-free). A true Manic Pixie Dream Celebrity to the end. And was that really the best use of his money? Just because they were the only four to "see him as a person"? Way to imply the rest of the fandom all dehumanize you.

Problem is: Cash didn't earn his forgiveness. He was horrible, he keeps being horrible, but now we know he's dying and that changes everything? Yeah, no. You can enjoy life to the fullest without being a jackass to everyone around you. Neither did the protagonists earn their happy endings. And if they don't earn it, it means the coming of age…didn't happen, basically.

Oh, and speaking of coming (yes, I had to make that joke). I mentioned that Joey was planning to lose his virginity during the road trip. Yeah, I have to address this separately. See, Sam and Moriko tell Cash their secrets in fairly drama-free circumstances, but Joey doesn't even choose to tell him. Instead, while he's meeting a guy from a hook-up app (who turns him down after puzzling out that Joey is an eighteen-year-old closeted virgin), he just happens to be spotted by Cash.

That scene…drips with good sentiment, but honestly, I hated it. The whole "don't have sex if you're not ready" message is fine, but Joey doesn't feel like someone who isn't ready. He'd been chatting with his date for a while before even leaving, he'd done his research about preparation and safety…he very much sounds ready to me. But no, he's not doing it with someone he's in love with, and therefore it's not good. It ends up reeking of "casual sex is bad", which, considering how much Cash complains when people criticize him for having sex, feels hypocritical. Doesn't help that this is absolutely what the author thinks, since Joey gets that talk from both his date and then from Cash. And after that scene, Joey no longer expresses the desire to have sex at all. This was an informed choice, and it was Joey's to make, so I hate that the book just takes it away from him. Sounds like you need some sex positivity of your own, book.

Stranger than fanfiction is…well, first of all, it doesn't really live up to its title. Oh, we certainly get a title drop at the end, but the events are very much not stranger than fanfiction. If anything, it only highlights another major flaw about this book: that it's clearly written by someone who knows about fandom and fanfiction…but only from the outside, as a celebrity who is the object of both instead of a creator or consumer of either. So not only does it fail at basic storytelling, it also fails at portraying the protagonists for who they're supposed to be.

On the plus side, at least now I'm cured of my ridiculous celebrity crush on Chris Colfer. Hurray for small victories!

[ghostofasecretary]

we’ve reached critical mass

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

when i start crying over my fucking hair, this is how we know things have gone way too fucking bad, what the fucking fuck

is anyone else kind of worried about me? i’m kind of worried about me. this is. Not Good.

a list of things i am currently super stressed about:

friend’s girlfriend could get murdered by her parents! can’t do anything!

am i being a bad friend

have i mentioned that the structure of this year is terrible for me and incredibly exhausting? it’s terrible for me and incredibly exhausting

COLLEGES WTF

i’m in a bible class

how??? many???? triggering things have happened this year? i’ve genuinely lost count!

turns out getting told i was evil by a person i’ve loved for four years, who didn’t even know she was telling me this: really fucking hurts!

friend might kill self? other friend might kill self? there’s just a lot of Stress

wow that friend’s mom is such an asshole and i want to punch her

STOP HURTING MY FRIENDS

why am i so fucking stupid, all the time, goooooooods, do i have no brain? do i not have any time??? where has my brain gone, why am i so fucking dead, i know i used to think things and like to argue about things and have opinions and now i am just a howling void

i want to cry!!!

i have cried more this year than in the last three years combined, jesus fuck

pain is BACK

it’s hot. why is it hot. why is summer the worst season, i hate it when things feel like summer, Make The Sun Stop Now Please

maybe i’m bipolar! maybe those delusions i’ve had are something bigger! maybe i’m just gonna get crazier in the next 8 years and be able to do nothing!!

my ability to cope is at, like, 0

i used to have feelings and i probably still have feelings but whenever i do have a feeling it is “i want to die”

i want to die, i want to not exist, i want to stop having a body, i want to remove myself from human interaction, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah

i used to be able to cope with things and now i CAN’T

but my brain has also been doing a fun trick:

SUFFERING

except, wait, no, negative emotions make you a bad person

talking about suffering makes you a bad person

thinking the above two things makes you a bad person

jk you are always a bad person and always will be, die

i’m very good at separating my actions from myself! i can do things! i’m sleeping, i’m doing well in school, it looks like i have both hobbies and feelings, i engage in positive interactions with my peers, also i hate myself and want to die and literally everything is painful all the time

didn’t get into a college? DUMB BITCH

don’t cope well with rejection? YOU’RE GONNA DIE AND YOU ARE WEAK

shut up all your feelings and then they leak out in weird ways? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU

have feelings, at all, ever? sorry, time for death! time for death! time for death!

combine this with “since i enjoy not existing and doing all these things while dealing with none of them and living solely in the persona i’ve constructed, clearly that means any feelings i actually have are made up”

i am basically roleplaying as myself 24/7

unsurprisingly this makes it hard to engage with things the way that would actually make me process them as things

because i am fictional and nothing is real

but if i stop roleplaying as myself i think i will just be left with screaming and misery and crying and doing nothing, ever, and that would also suck

can i just??? stop everything????

that’s conceivably possible but also i do want to do things

i am so disabled

i am so so so so disabled and it’s really hard for me to talk to psychiatrists and therapists about what i’m actually feeling, because i can perform and act and do things, i just have to not exist to do that

i broke my toe and didn’t notice it for a day or two and didn’t feel it

(well, or i dislocated it. not actually sure. it’s a toe, i don’t want to go to a doctor. fuck)

everything is so stressful!!!! i want to stop being hurt

it’s going to be my birthday soon and i always hate my birthdays

nothing like the reminder that you suck and have accomplished nothing of note like another year of your life passing!

fuck 

AM I LYING TO EVERYONE AROUND ME AND EVERYONE I CARE ABOUT I SUCK SO MUCH FUCK FUCK FUCK and other things

and, like, it’s not as if i am perfectly capable of doing things all the time

basically what happens is: i go interact with people and i do things during or after that interaction

then i am alone

then, fuck, i’m stressed and i hurt and all these things are happening and everything keeps happening and i want to stop existing and random things upset me and maybe i have feelings except i don’t want to have feelings, i don’t want to burden people around me, repress repress repress, except then every evening i feel aimlessly shitty and melancholy and i can’t sleep or do anything or feel better even when i do things and things are just going to keep happening, and i probably want things to happen, and i want to do things on my own time, but my brain is screaming and i hurt and i hate it and and and

so i wind up doing nothing and being pretty much unable to move

and i kind of have more energy?

but also not.

just. fuck!!!!!!! make me stop hurting, make things less painful, make it stop make it stop make it stop

i don’t even know what to do about this

i feel like i’ve surpassed my ability to cope with life

...

which is its own kind of shitty, that’s one of the few skills i can confidently say i have

so. yes. life is not particularly fun right now. i would say “let’s do the i feel like shit worksheet and come back,” except i don’t trust myself to come back.

what do i do when the structure of things is set up in a way that makes everything extremely difficult?

well. if there are other people under similar circumstances, forming a group or coalition or network is quite useful

if there is a way to change things or lobby to change things and one has the energy to pursue it, then that’s excellent

if it’s not possible to escape, it’s probably healthy to vent and complain

seek reprieve where possible. rest is vital under such circumstances.

plan for things to be better in the future, and have an actual plan, not just “be better.” it is not that one is bad, it is that the circumstances are set up for failure.

what does i do when it is impossible to do everything and still feel okay?

you must make trade-offs.what is important? what is non-essential? is it better to achieve everything and be stressed, or achieve less and be satisfied? if the former seems better, how long term will the effects of stress be?

rest is vital. rest is not being selfish or stupid or weak. if you do not plan to rest, you will accomplish nothing. sleep. see friends. spend time by yourself. read something.

it’s okay to feel bad and be super stressed - no, that sounds meaningless. feelings do not have moral weight. feelings are not a moral obligation or judgement on anything. they do reflect things about people, but in times of stress circumstances are odd and unpredictable. expect that and make room for it.

you do not have to be producing content all the time. it is okay to be still, hit the mark, and not kill yourself with ill-advised effort. it’s okay.

when will i have a coherent meta ethic?

when you can stop having week - at a conservative estimate - long panic attacks about your childhood, wherein you formed the twisted base that everything else deviated from.

when will i stop hurting? when will things stop? how long do i have to wait?

visiting a chiropractor might be useful.

well. quite probably, once you find a therapist things will improve at least somewhat. your last attempt at dealing with trauma-related issues was retraumatizing, and you’ve continually done that since then, and in addition to other things this means your brain is a trash fire. working with someone who actually knows how to deal with this particular kind of trash fire will be helpful.

once the birthday season is over, that will be one stressor removed.

finishing thesis will be very helpful.

receiving college decisions in march will be extremely helpful.at very latest that’s less than 40 days away.

when you graduate in may, that will remove the temporally located stressors. that’s about 80 days away.

after that you get to rest.

and then there is a whole new set of problems, but seriously: worry later. there’s a lot to worry about now, if we must worry.

cw in the next paragraph for suicidal ideation, death, and x-risk

also, you will at very, very, very latest live to be 150, since you don’t plan to do cryonics or any other form of life preservation. that’s 147 years. if you live to be 100, just stay alive for 83 more years if you die at 83, that’s only 66 years. if you kill yourself at 45, that’s barely 28 years away! and you could die at any time anyway, so who knows how much longer this will take. the death of this planet is pretty far away, but the climate could become inhospitable to humans, and if SpaceX doesn’t pioneer something, the end of the human race isn’t entirely out of the question either.

death comes for us all!

end cw

also, more hopefully: maybe there will be a better fix for the body shit than we currently have. ptsd doesn’t stick around forever in everyone, and even then it is treatable. you’ll always be dd, but you can deal with that most of the time - plus, people give you free food. the anxiety could be treatable, the depression could go away, you’ll always be a person who has wanted to die but even that doesn’t scream all the time.

(also? attempting to change one’s perspective and habits while in extreme emotional distress is usually not helpful. think when not ded.)

“just keep going” is so frustrating, but it also works. maybe it won’t forever, but it will for now. i mean, ideally we could go better than we are currently going, and there’s a bunch of protocols in the above paragraphs if you need ideas (hint hint, future self), but you can survive even like this. things have been worse than this before and they will probably get worse in the future, in new and interesting ways, and this is not good but you can survive it. one foot in front of the other foot in front of the other foot in front of the other foot, list after list after list, tasks accomplished, experiences had, life lived. just keep going.