#I probably need more therapy and i am on the waiting list

[thewitchoftherock]

my grandmother died the other day and I wanna talk about it.

Trigger warning under the cut: I’m talking about death and Narcissistic abuse

Still here? Good.

IDGAF that she’s dead. I’m *happy* about it.

Some of you might remember when my mother died, and I got some feelings out about that in my fanfic. I introduced Double Trouble’s mother and she was just a *peach* wasn’t she. And like yeah, seeing her die was rough in the way I imagine it would he hard to see *anyone* die. HOWEVER, I still maintain that the world is a better place with her gone!

Now my grandmother is gone, and by the gods I feel the same way! And I have a very limited number of people I can share that with because:

1) “Oh but she’s your grandmother.”

2)”you shouldn’t be happy when *anyone* dies”

3)”you should really learn to *forvigve* people.

4) “Oh, well, you just didn’t understand her.

5)”you shouldn’t hate anyone like that!”

And like, fuck ALL THAT.

Yeah, she was my grandmother. She was also awful, encouraged my mother to beat me because I wasn’t a lady-like, ‘good’ kid. (ADHD = too loud and talkative for her tastes)

I shouldn’t be happy when anyone dies? Do you know me? I made an Atlantic bottom feeders sticker pack called “Eat the Rich: Deep sea edition” when the Titan exploded with billionaires in it! There are people who made the world a better place by their *Absence*

Why the fuck should I forgive her? She never asked for my forgiveness, never did anything to make up for the years of abuse to not just be, but her other children! GODS, you think I have issues with my mother? My grandmother was *So much worse*

No, I didn’t understand her. She never made an effort to know or understand me either. The different is, however, that 1) I was a child, and 2) My lack of understanding didn’t lead me to inflict emotional abuse on her! (I escaped the physical abuse, and maybe I’ll tell a story about that one day.)

Now.. here’s the big one.

You shouldn’t hate anyone.

OK! LET’S TALK ABOUT HATE.

When Witchy was a wee little child, she was not a badass “Fuck around, find out” Traditional witch. She was a Good Christian Girl. No even joking. I got confirmed and everything though the Catholic Church. I went to church youth group. My dad had nearly become a Jesuit Priest, but didn’t and ended up just being super religious all his life. Now, in Christanity, Hate is a grave sin. I don’t know what other denominations are like with that, but the Catholics are hardcore on it.

And for most of my life, I hated. I felt awful about it. I *prayed* not to hate. My evil step mother was a “love and light” new -ager (wouldn’t be surprised if she followed that mother god missus) and I tried to follow that as a teen as well.

Didn’t work and i just hated myself more.

Flash forward 15 years. I’m finally medicated for depression, and learning who I am. I rediscover witchcraft, and start learning.. and learn that you gotta do shadow work. SO, one night I’m struggling with these feelings of HATING THE SHIT out of people and WISHING THEY WOULD DIE. But THIS TIME instead of pushing that part of me deep deep down, I pulled it up. I looked at that part of me like it was another person and started questioning it, and learned something important.

That part of people hated people who had hurt me. They wanted them dead and gone so that *I would not be hurt like that again*

That part of me wasn’t evil, it was hurt and scared. It wanted to protect me!

That was the day I learned that hate isn’t just hate. The part of you that hates another is the part of you that loves you the most. Yeah, maybe don’t act on that hate, but don’t judge yourself or push it down either! Acknowledge it, and let yourself say “I hate this person BECAUSE.”

I hate my grandmother because she was an awful person.

I hate my grandmother for only being able to show love to a single child, and letting the rest suffer.

I hate my grandmother for being so bitter and spiteful her whole life that she twisted my grandfather so that by the time I was around all I had were stories about how he used to be so loving and doting.

I hate my grandmother for continuing the cycle of abuse though the family.

I hate my grandmother for never having a single good thing to say about me, and making her favouritism of the soft, quiet, feminine girls in the family so obvious.

My grandmother is dead, and the world is a better place.

…. But the real question you might be asking: why are you telling us, strangers on the internet, all this?

BECAUSE NOBODY SAYS IT! Because I know so many people who have these feelings and feel like shit about it. I see so little support and understanding for people who celebrate the death of their abusers, especially when it’s a maternal figure. I see it more with PATERNAL figures, but not Maternal ones! And while we’re getting better, I STILL SEE PEOPLE being all “Oh, but she’s family/you should forgive FOR YOUR OWN BENEFIT/you shouldn’t celebrate anyone’s death/you shouldn’t hate anyone.”

Fuck that noise.

Your hate is valid, and some people make the world a better place by leaving it.

[midnight-pluto]

COFFEE: PG.14 — alleyway therapy sessions

COFFEE: tim drake x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS: Tim meets a barista that gives him what he needed most — a large coffee with way to many shots of espresso. Though what happens when just a single action changes the other's life, forever?

coffee master list || prev. || next

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 15 2023 — 10:59 PM

IT HAD BEEN quite a bit of time since you started dating Tim. In all honesty, it was great — you’re dates were consistent, you got to spend time with his family, and hang outs outside of dates were enjoyable.

However, recently there has been a shift in your peaceful relationship. Tim had cancelled on you, again.

You understood the first time, he had rich kid socialite duties to attend to. The second time you were skeptical since it was back-to-back but he had given you a bouquet of your favorite flowers, so who were you to refuse? But this was the third time.

You both had planned on having a cute date at the park since it was a particularly good day to Gotham’s standards but as it turned out, he canceled on you.

Staring at Tim’s apology message, tears threatened to slip out of the corners of your eyes but you wouldn’t allow them. Taking a sharp inhale through your nose, you take your phone and leave.

Walking along the grim sidewalk of Gotham, you make a sharp turn through the alleyway for a shortcut to your apartment. Though doing that in Gotham wasn’t the best idea but you could handle a few thugs.

No one leave their house without a weapon in Gotham of course.

Halfway through the alleyway, a larger vine carrying two women emerge from the shadows in front of you — Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn.

“Ivy, I love you and all but are you sure this is a good idea? I mean like, I’m sure a lot of people out there deserve a good beating but not them! They look like they’ve had a rough night,” Harley told her girlfriend to which you sigh at.

“Of course the world isn’t done with torturing me,” you mumble.

“See!”

“Huh, I thought there would be a lot more shitty people that come down this route,” Ivy mutters.

“Are you alright sweetie? You look like you’ve had a bad day?”

“Wait Harles, you can’t be seriously starting a therapy session right now are you?”

“C’mon Ivy! This is the least we can do for them! I mean we inconvenienced them, potentially ruined their day by showing up — I mean like I would also be upset if a pair of heroes showed up for no reason — and! They look depressed! Look at their face!”

Wow. You didn’t know whether to be glad that someone noticed your sadness or offended at the fact that someone thought you looked depressed.

Probably a mixture of both.

Ivy raised a brow at her girlfriends notions and looked you over as you stared blankly into the abyss. Her eyes widen in realization of who you were, “Hey wait, aren’t you that viral employee of Café Remedies? Y/N, right?”

“That’s me,” you huff out, shoving your hands in your pockets.

“Holy shit I love that place! They make hella good macarons,” Harley interjects, “See! We gotta have a therapy session now.”

“Ugh, fine,” the redhead rolls her eyes, using her vines to create makeshift chairs for the three of you to sit on.

You stare at the sudden creation in shock but swiftly get over it once you see the couple sit down on them nonchalantly.

“So tell me, what’s going on currently?” the ex-psychiatrist begins, taking out a pen and notepad.

“Harles where on Earth did you get that?”

“It’s honestly nothing but like— he just keeps on canceling on me and I don’t know what to do, like is it me? Am I the problem—?”

“Slow down,” the blond interrupts with a calm voice, “Who are we talking about here?”

“My boyfriend.”

“Who’s the boyfriend?”

“Tim Drake.”

“Oh you gotta be shitting me! Him?” Ivy abruptly says, “He’s actually dating somebody?” She turns to look at her girlfriend to which she looks at her with the same expression.

“Apparently, I thought they were just rumors and speculation,” she shrugged her shoulders.

“We literally posted pictures of our first date— anyways,” you shake your head trying to get back on track, “He keeps on canceling our dates last minute and I’m starting to have doubts because what if he’s not into me anymore? Did he even like me in the first place — I was the one who suggested our first date so what if he just said yes out of obligation since I’m friends with Duke?”

“Wait Duke as in Duke Thomas?” the plant enthusiast questioned once more, to which you nod your head in response. “Holy shit you have connections.”

“But Duke isn’t even legally adopted by the Wayne’s,” Harley points out turning towards you, “Is he?”

“Well it doesn’t even matter since he literally attends the same events they do,” Ivy reminds.

“True I guess, but back on track. Tim keeps on canceling your guys’ dates?” the blond flips her notepad to a new page and clicks her pen once more.

“Yeah the first time he blamed it on his ‘rich kid duties,’” you quote.

“Why have money if you can’t even use it to bail out of something to spend time with you’re partner?” the redhead deadpans.

“And the second time?”

“He did the same thing but got me flowers as an apology and promised to show up the next time but uh,” you click your tongue, “He obviously didn’t show up.”

“Does he text or call you whenever he cancels on you?” Harley asked, putting black framed glasses on. Where she was pulling all of these things from alluded you but you didn’t question it.

“He texts me.”

She furrows her brows at that statement, “Can I see the text messages?”

Unlocking your phone, you press the messages app and show her your past conversations with your beloved. “We’ve called a few times during this time but that’s it.”

“Alright did you leave him on read?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Good he deserves it after answering your texts with the max of five words.”

SPECIAL NOTE: y’all might not hear from me next week since I got midterms but I will finish this smau before 2024 I swear!! also, I’m imagining Harley and Ivy are like they are in the Harley Quinn animated series — just an fyi

TAGLIST: @grandstrangerphantom @marsbars09 @fabitheraven @lovelypitasworld @dyjcksn @mae77eris @sugarrush-blush @djchik @soundsfunbutno @apizzacalledmel @strangetrashblog @cipheress-to-k-pop @harleycao @unhingedtimdrake @a-homosexual-homosapien @aquarii-doodles @love-stay @criminallycan @hecate-frenchfries @job-ross-the-second [ if your name isn't highlighted then I wasn't able to tag you. if you would like to join, feel free to send me an ask or to comment! ]

[darlingkirstein]

im just curious about your headcanon for their job (for eremika and jeanpiku if that's alright)

this question has truly thrown me for such a giant loop because im super indecisive! so i thought instead of choosing one option, i could list a few plausible options for the characters! these are just the jobs that came to mind for some reason. im sure i could come up with others but this are the first that i decided on, and i tried to choose jobs that are a little more unorthodox to be unique 🩷

also sorry for how long this has taken ! i know you've been waiting for this for a while 🫶

Eremika

— Eren Jaeger!

Physical/recreational therapist: I can imagine him wanting to help people but not wanting to be a hospital doctor or anything like that. He seems like he'd be a pretty active guy so I think a job where he gets to help people and also move around and help clients move around and recover from injury would be both fulfilling and fun for him at the same time! Or even recreational therapy, getting to help people through different activities!

Small business owner: I can see him taking the charge and owning his own business, maybe with the help of his parents with a small investment to get it started. Mikasa might also help with this when she has spare time because she wants to support him! I'm thinking something that incorporates his love of cooking, like a bakery or food shop?

Stuntman/stunt coordinator: This one is more for fun but I love picturing him as a stunt man for movies. He would get a kick out of the thrill it gives him if he's actively participating or he'd find it satisfying to coordinate really interesting stunt work. Mikasa would always be fearful that he's gonna injure himself.

— Mikasa Ackerman!

Bookstore employee: I don't know why, but I think Mikasa would love working around a quiet environment with books. Getting to provide recommendations and organize the shelves makes her feel accomplished without over-stressing her. She loves reading so the employee discount is definitely a big benefit.

Speech-language pathologist: I'm biased here because this is what I'm studying! But I think Mikasa could thrive in this job! Getting to help people struggling with communication is really fulfilling and she gets to challenge herself to find creative solutions. I think she would love working with children, helping them fix their speech sounds, or even with adults, helping with different disorders.

Daycare owner/lead employee: I think a lot of us agree that even in our modern AUs, Mikasa didn't have the happiest childhood. So, I think she tries to make sure that other children have the best possible childhood around. She would be very attentive to all their needs because she's naturally great with kids. Eren would find this so endearing and it would really give me lots of baby fever when she comes home and talks about the kiddos.

Jeanpiku

— Jean Kirstein!

Gonna start off by saying that I feel like Jean initially settles for an office job because he feels like he has to be a big breadwinner and have a stable, high-paying job but it ends up making him rather miserable so he quits to pursue other jobs.

Art restoration: I know the idea of Jean being an artist is kinda overplayed since he only draws once but I am so attached to it. But here I'm specifically thinking of him restoring old/damaged paintings for museums or for people's personal collections. He probably finds comfort in seeing the pretty paintings come back to life after being so dull. He takes it super seriously since it's so technical so he's very proud of his work and the results!

Something in the restaurant/food industry: Jean loves cooking so much! He would want to share his cooking with others. He might work at a restaurant making good or maybe even as a cooking instructor? I think that even if his job isn't in the food industry that he still volunteers his time to cook for people in need because it's something he's passionate about.

Art therapist: In a similar vein to art restoration, I am imagining him as an art therapist, trying to help people with their struggles through various forms of art. It's probably therapeutic to him, so sharing that therapy with others is so sweet to me. I think would love to work with children especially, just getting to see them smile after they've gone through some rough things :)

— Pieck Finger!

Something in journalism: Pieck would get a kick out of writing small articles for different papers or magazines, or even in the newspaper (even if it's a dying medium). She gets to show a more creative side while making a living and she also gets to work from home which is great because she's kind of a homebody! She gets to be comfortable while writing her fun articles :)

Accent/dialect coach: This is also kind of a half-serious one like the stunt coordinator one for Eren. I feel like Pieck would be weirdly good at accents, like stupidly good. So she might have fun working with actors either in bigger shows/movies or in local theatre productions to change accents.

Editor: Another job that could be done from home, I think she would like editing people's books or articles or anything to make them better. She finds it fun and satisfying to correct mistakes and make suggestions, and it's so fun because she can work on stuff from her bedroom if she so desired. Maybe she both writes and edits and just switches off depending on the day/helping out her writer friends by editing their work for them.

[evilwickedme]

Ooh, do you have any good Jason fic recs?

anon I cannot tell you how long I've been waiting to see those words!!!! yes I have good Jason fic recs in fact I have so many good Jason fic recs that after narrowing it down I still have fifteen links for you

I have read more fanfic for Jason Todd than maybe any other character ever. I do not understand the hold this man has on me but it's simply the situation we're in. anyway

Jason comes home fics

Make a Little Birdhouse In Your Soul is hands down my favorite. I'm talking favorite DC fic, top fics of all time period, not just from this list. I love this fic series. It is actively and regularly updating, thank fuck, because that little boost of serotonin is everything keeping me going I swear

The 70 Days After Groundhog Day is technically from Dick's POV, but it's about the aftermath of a timeloop that Jason was stuck in. it's. oh my god it's so good. just trust me on this one.

Emotional Motion Sickness is the "bruce goes to therapy" fic series we all want. canon get on this level

Retrograde Motion - I never used to like de-aging fics; not for any particular reason, I just never vibed with them. Recently I decided to see what all the fuss was about (bc there's so goddamn many in this fandom) and I'm glad, because I opened this fic and it's just. oh my god. the use of the de-aging trope here is truly incredible. after a whole week of dipping my feet into the trope I never need to do so again, because this fic made me fucking lose it. this is not going where you think it's going. also, for some reason there's not that much rebirth outlaws fic, and I really like what this author did with that team

matching wounds haha just gonna sneak my fic series on here and pretend that it was an accident, wait how did that get there (some jayroy later in the timeline too which can be read on its own if Jason coming home fics aren't for you)

other non-ship

Too Much Fucking Salt deals with the straw that broke the camel's back. I've read all 22k words of this in one sitting more than once. this is the anti "Jason Todd comes home" fic (this is in itself a whole genre of fic too honestly).

take his name out of your mouth (you don't deserve to mourn) is about Jason mourning himself, which he fucking deserves to. also he smokes a joint with Dick

Sown in Winter is about Jason pulling himself out of a depressive episode partially through the power of Stardew Valley. also technically jayroy, but it's honestly incidental to the story for the most part imo

JayRoy

I do read other ships for Jason but unabashedly this is my favorite, so

A Solid Resume - competency kink. that's all I have to say.

Tenderize is a series of oneshots all of which slowly build Jason and Roy's life together and coparenting lian and I just !!! could also double as a Jason coming home au but honestly that's mostly in the first fic. also a lot of discussion of various chain grocery stores in the united states that I will probably never actually step foot in

Dick Grayson and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Two to Three Weeks (But Who's Counting) is so fucking funny I die every time I reread this. there's a scene early on in a coffee shop that just. I don't even know what to say everything about this is perfect. I AM the girl sticking her nose in their business, at least spiritually.

dust devils on the horizon isn't even the only western au I've bookmarked for these two. something about jayroy and horses, man

unity of time: april 27th, 2020 is just,,,, super sad, man, idk what to tell you. it's f!jayroy, but happens after Roy died in sanctuary during the 24h of Jason's death day, so all of it is very fucking depressing. It's also fucking beautiful. I want to reread it now.

Promise After That I'll Let You Go is a poisonivory fic. I was introduced to poisonivory through the daredevil fandom earlier this year and may I tell you when I found out that this author writes for jayroy I lost my goddamn mind. this is my personal favorite, but I almost recommended at least two more aus. Their jayroy sugar daddy au is one of the only sugar daddy aus I've ever truly enjoyed. also really like the one where roy has had feelings for dick since their teen titans days but still starts a fwb thing with Jason. poisonivory can make me into kinks I'm not even into I s2g. anyway this one has lian literally dragging roy back into jason's life

finally, Reciprocation (or: Sex as Violence) shouldn't even really count as a jayroy fic but I feel weird putting it in the other category since it is sort of a jayroy fic. it's ace-aro!jason, which is one of my personal favorite interpretations of Jason (with so much textual evidence wtf), but there's still like... a lot of sex in this. Jason does not have a healthy relationship with sex in this fic. I would describe this as ending in a QPP for jayroy and lian.

honestly there's a lot of good jason and roy and lian fic out there I didn't rec cause this is already long enough

so yeah this is my very VERY pared down fic rec list for Jason Todd let me know if you want more and thank you so much for asking

[wandafiction]

Hear, Listen, Take It In - Just Us Chapter 41

Warnings: Talk of PTSD, Mentions of Abuse, Some Fluff.

Word Count: 2622

Series List | Chapter 40 | Chapter 42

================================

I must have fallen asleep at some point because the next thing I know Wanda is gently shaking me awake; and I am met by the most beautiful smile and green eyes. Our position on the bed also swapped around at some point, I am now laying on my side with my head on Wanda's chest as her hand plays with my hair. I look up at Wanda with confusion at the change in position.

"You kept moving about in your sleep dorogoy, so I moved us around so I could hold you better. It seemed to help you sleep peacefully." Her hand continues to smooth out my hair as her voice is soft like music to my ears.

"Well even though I prefer to be the big spoon, this is a nice sight to wake up to. And you're very comfortable. Thank you princess." 

"You don't have to thank me baby, I love you and I love taking care of you." I tilt my head back so I am looking directly in her eyes.

"No I do. I have a lot to thank you for. Especially for not running away when you found out the truth." I remember how mad and upset she got and it hurts me to know I caused it.

"Well we are past that now. I Know the truth so please don't allow what happened to hurt you. It was all one big misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding is an understatement." I hear Wanda huff out a laugh. "Do you forgive me?" Wanda's brows furrow in confusion. 

"Baby you have done nothing that needs my forgiveness, but if it will help put your mind at rest then yes I forgive you for it all." She leans down to kiss my forehead.

"I love you so much. Thank you for staying." 

"There's nowhere else I would rather be." I look at the clock and realise the time.

"Wait, where are the twins?"

"Sharon and Yelena picked them up. Taking them bowling or something." I pout at the thought of Wanda not being with her boys.

"I'm sorry." 

"What are you saying sorry for? You've done nothing wrong." 

"I caused you hurt when you thought I was married. Then I caused you panic when I had flashbacks and now I am taking you away from time you could be spending with your boys." 

Wanda moves from beneath me and I almost whine at the loss of contact. I was comfortable. She presses the button that makes the head of the bed fold up to a sitting position and she pushes herself back against it sitting criss-cross applesauce. She looks down at me patting the space in front of her, following her silent instruction I move myself so I am sat in front of her. My hands in my lap, as my fingers of one hand pull at the fingers of my other hand.

"Dorogoy, I need you to look at me when I say this. I need you to hear it, listen to it, take it in. I need you to hear what I'm about to say. So please can you look at me, just one more time?" 

I let out a shaky breath as I move my head upwards so I can look into her eyes, a small smile graces her lips, her nose scrunching and I fawn over the sight. Her hands move into mine, grabbing onto them and placing them on my calves as she holds them.

"Everything you just apologised for you have no control over. Now before you say 'I could have told you about Sarah' no, no you couldn't. And that's because your brain was conditioned not to by her , and your brain and your body still react to things in  a way because of her . So not telling me you were married is more her fault than anyone else's. Your flashbacks are completely and utterly out of anyone's control. I know that you have therapy for a reason, and that it has probably helped but baby PTSD will always be with you. Now I want to learn what I can do to make sure I don't trigger you into an episode like today. I want to be able to look after you and care for you but I also need to know how to not put you in a situation where you need to be cared for and to be looked after. If that makes any sense at all. Finally, I chose not to pick the boys up. They are 14 years old, and very very smart. Sometimes too smart for their own good. I didn't tell them what happened or anything like that, I just said I have to be with you right now and all they said in return was 'go be with her'. That was a decision we made together for you. So please, and hear me when I say this. Please stop apologising for things that you cannot control. I know you felt guilty but you have to find a way to let it go because I am not mad, or angry or frustrated with you. I love you so fucking much Y/n, you hear me, so much. So please stop apologising."

I know I have tears in my eyes because my vision is now very blurry, my bottom lip is quivering and even though my breathing is steady it is shaky. Wanda removes one of her hands from mine to use the pad of her thumb to wipe at the bottom of my eyes to help the tears to fall. When I blink away the rest, Wanda's hand moves to cup my cheek wiping some of the tears from my skin. She has what seems to be a proud smile on her face, it's not big and wide it's subtle and her eyes have this extra emotion I can't quite read. 

"I hear you." It's the first words to leave my mouth and she presses her lips together still smiling slightly as she looks at me like I am the most precious thing in the universe.

"Do you believe me when I say those words?" I hesitate for just a second, but Wanda allows me to take that moment's hesitation to recollect my feelings and thoughts and there is only one word that I can see floating around in my own head.

"Yes."

A knock at the door brings us out of our little bubble, my head turns to look through the small pane of glass to see who it was. Natasha is on the other side, with a guilty look on her face. Why is she guilty? When our eyes meet through the glass I smile at her waving for her to come inside but her expression doesn't change. The door opens and closes slowly, Natasha's head bowed to look at her hands as they fiddle with the ends of her sleeves. I look back at Wanda with confusion written on my face, but all she does is give me a small smile and shuffle to the left side of the bed so I can join her in sitting up against it. 

Natasha stays standing by the door, I think her eyes are red and puffy but it's hard to tell when she isn't actually looking at me. I feel Wanda's hand come to rest on the back of my neck as she plays with the baby hairs, also remaining silent. 

"I'm sorry." The words leave Natasha's lips with a sigh, my brows furrow as I tilt my head in question but her eyes stay trained to the ground.

"Is the floor really more interesting than me?" Natasha huffs out a laugh as she brings her head up but her eyes don't follow her movements. "Natasha...Nat...what's wrong? Why are you apologising to me?" 

"I scared you." My face scrunches in complete confusion turning to Wanda to see if she knows, but she simply nods her head towards Natasha telling me it's between me and her. Great guess I have to figure this one out.

"How did you scare me?" I ask gently, my voice level so she knows I have no anger towards her.

"You flinched." Another sigh escapes her lips. "Twice actually. Both times because of me."

"That wasn't on you Natasha. You did nothing wrong. It's my fucked up brain that reacted." I tap my head a couple of times to get my point across, but before Natasha can say anything we are interrupted.

"Okay I was going to let you talk it out but your brain is not fucked up, it has been fucked with and now you are dealing with it. There is a difference." Wanda glares at me, hating how I talk about myself. 

"What do you mean it's been fucked with?" Natasha is now looking at me, the guilt look almost gone and replaced with worry. Meanwhile my eyes dart between Natasha and Wanda.

"You...you didn't tell her?" My mouth agape with shock.

"It's not my story to tell. I did tell her not to come barging in here and to try and keep her movements not so...aggressive I guess." I'm speechless, blinking back a few tears. I don't know why I am getting emotional. "Baby, do you want me to give you some time with Natasha?" 

"Do you mind?" I can't comprehend how Wanda knows what I need, but also has so much care about her that she doesn't tell her best friend all my dirty little secrets, the skeletons in my closet if you will, the moment she can. She didn't tell Natasha. She really cares, I mean I knew that but she actually truly cares about my feelings. My emotions. My fucked up brain, no, my trauma. And I trust her with my life with that information. I'm brought out of my thoughts by a kiss on my cheek.

"Of course not dorogoy, Natasha can come and get me when you're done." Natasha simply nods as Wanda walks past, but not before enveloping her best friend in a hug and whispering something in her ear that makes her visibly relax. Once Wanda closes the door behind her, Natasha looks up at me pointing to the end of the bed.

"Can I sit?" She is apprehensive, she seems nervous of every little move she makes.

"You don't have to ask." I pat the space in front of me, and she slowly makes her way onto the bed. Her movements are slow and calculated. "You don't have to move so slowly Natasha, you won't hurt me." 

"But I did."

"No you didn't. Steph hurt me." The words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them, Natashas movements stop as she looks up at me. "Sorry that just came out."

"Is it true?" Natasha is now sitting criss-cross applesauce in front of me, like me and Wanda before, her head tilted slightly but a relaxed smile on her face.

"Has Wanda told you anything?" 

"Only that your ex's actions have caused a lot of reactions. I know about the panic attack, and how you got the black eye but not why on both accounts." I hum in acknowledgement taking in the small bit of information. "I know trust can be a hard thing to give, I get it I do, but Wanda doesn't tell us anything that we don't need to know. I trust her with all I have and she has never let me down."

"I trust her. That's why I told her these things. Apart from the I used to be married part, but she told me it was because of what Steph did. Something I became conditioned to." 

"Do you believe that? Because from the sounds of it she is right." 

"I do mostly. I'm working on it."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Just be there for Wanda when she needs you." She furrows her brows.

"No I meant for you Y/n. What can I do for you? What actions of mine today caused you to flinch? What can I do as a person to try and stop myself from causing whatever I caused?" Natasha frowns at the thought.

"You didn't cause anything."

"Y/n you ended up in hospital after flinching at me, how did I not cause this."

"I have PTSD Nat. No one could have done anything. It was a massive flashback that I truly didn't realise was a flashback till I woke up in hospital. PTSD works in wonderful ways like that."

"Okay so you have PTSD. Is there anything else I need to know?" Her voice remains calm. 

"I'm in therapy, wait Wanda told you that. Just that the quick movements you jerking your arm like you did where it left my peripheral vision, and the quick bending down. That's what caused me to flinch but it didn't cause anything else before you ask." 

"Is this what Wanda means by your brain is condition to those sort of reactions?"

"Steph wasn't the best when it came to my PTSD."

"Steph is not sounding the best here Y/n."

"She wasn't." I bow my head at my confession. 

"Why did you stay with her?"

"It's not like I had a choice!" I scoff, scowling at Natasha, before completely hating what I said and shooting her an apologetic look. "Sorry, I just mean I had just got to a place where I thought I could date again after losing Sarah, and there was Steph. She seemed so perfect and so ready to help me back to a place I once was. She started out patient and kind, but it soon turned into controlling and, uhm, yeah. Anyway, I was only with her for like 6, maybe 8 months."

"That's long enough Y/n. She used your trauma against you. If I ever see her she is going to have to deal with a very angry russian on a warpath." Natasha seethes and I feel the anger radiating off her body.

"And an angry Sokovian." Me and Natasha both laugh as we think about what Wanda would do to Steph if they ever met. Natasha seems to realise something as she looks up at me.

"You trust and love Wanda, but you still have that fear that she is going to turn on you like Steph did. Don't you?" I open and close my mouth to try and tell her no, I know Wanda wouldn't do that but I don't know that because we have only known each other a month.

"I wish I didn't." Is what I say instead.

"Y/n. I've known Wanda for years and never once as she ever used my shit, my deep dark secrets against me not once. So take it from me when I say Wanda is not going to hurt you like Steph did. Wanda loves you. Like full on, in this forever love and I truly believe that. The love Steph had for you was not love Y/n it was pure and utter manipulation and an abuse of power. Wanda doesn't have an abusive bone in her body. She would never use your shit to get what she wants."

"I want to be 100% fully committed in this, I mean I am, I just mean my brain needs to catch up with my heart."

"Is there anything she can do to speed that process up at all?" 

"Yeah." I let out with a huff of air as the one thing that I would never ask of her but know needs to be done because Steph never did.

"What is it?"

"For her to meet Sarah."

================================

[stalkersdiary]

~What I Am~ (Rant Post) TW. Su!c!dal

The more I talk to people in my DMs or my secret discord servers, the more I realize my conditions, diagnosis, emotions, violent tendencies, and my habits are merely an aesthetic to some people. I'm NOT REAL to people. I'm just a kink, a concept, a character, etc.

They don't understand us. They don't relate to us. They don't even like or respect us sometimes.

The moment you say you feel overly protective to what is probably just possessive to those you like, you're toxic. You're controlling. You "need to stop trying to claim people they don't belong to you, they aren't an object."

The moment you say you have violent tendencies, your meds aren't calming you down, and decide to take it out on people you know hurt and even killed others instead of accidentally hurting someone you like, you're an asshole who hurts people. You're "just lacking compassion and empathy." You're CRAZY AND SHOULD BE LOCKED UP.

The moment you explain that you are thinking of killing yourself because everyone hates you and thinks you're exaggerating having a fucked up past and health conditions, you're manipulative, and you should seek therapy even though YOUR LAST THERAPIST QUIT AND YOU'RE ON THE LONGEST FUCKING WAITING LIST

The moment I explain I just really want to not be judged because I'm this close to losing my mind over the fact that I barely do anything anymore and my life is a lonely living hell, I'm just attention seeking and trying to "be quirky."

I live in constant fear, I don't have friends, and I take Rexulti (antipsychotic) which I BARELY TAKE because my last surgery was on my throat and I COULDN'T FUCKING SWALLOW and NOW I keep forgetting to take them, all while being told I'm ugly because I'm fat and my face is fucked up.

The moment an attractive person has symptoms FAR less extreme than I have, and an "aesthetically pleasing" blog with no real feelings and just character ideas, they are loved, and wanted because they get to be the fantasy everyone wanted. I'm not a fantasy. I'm a real guy with just a shitty personality and a fucked up boring blog.

Don't worry, I shall return to my usual more fun and interesting content soon. I just wanted to get this out of my mind and this IS my diary. You're just here for the ride which does mean you might have to see a few of these. Sorry. It's called Stalker's Diary for a reason.

[gay-dorito-dust]

But that's why it's so fun though. There's definitely the surface level canon story.

It's fun to think, what if? Especially with easter eggs or vague elements showing the tiniest connection to another. Someone had to create that, so maybe they had an idea the viewer would too. If so, then what would the story look like if this connection is canon. Bonus points if it is canon and theres tiny nuggets all over the place. Im looking at you, eldren ring 😘👅. Overall, it expands the story and adds depth, and who doesn't like that. (Trick question: NO ONE)

Lmao YOU KNOW he was waiting!! The pan away shot was so the audience couldn't see the filthy smirk on his face after saying that. Leon is totally a "fun guy" at heart *snaps finger guns*. Definitely loves to crack jokes. It's just given his surroundings and the situation he usually in, it's totally not called for. Especially his type of...humor, which already isn't that funny in a normal environment. Then when he says it, it's a double "Oh hell no." for me, dawg.

AHHHHH lmaooo you like his jokes! You're more whipped me than! 🤣 I'm shriveling up. A chocolate eclair 💀 we gotta build that up! (I can't talk mine is as tough as extra firm tofu)

Fr I totally understand. I'd feel bad especially since he's trying to lighten the environment, plus I know he hates this more than I do. Replace me with Ashley and all I hear are gunshots, goreish noises, and foreign yelling 24/7...👁👄👁 I'm listening to "Leon's jokes on a 10 hour loop" (some of them). I'd have to scrape up the courage to think of jokes and not hyper fixating on my environment and future death or Leon's back 😉.

I'd either beg Leon for a mercy kill or do it myself. I'm not built for that world. Also if Leon actually said that, he'd get 1 good noodle star, cuz that actually made me laugh.🤡

I'm hollering!! I was thinking the same thing but couldn't find the meme!!! Thank you!!🥹

Leon is a frat party and a Bang energy drink (the only option) with a plate of hooters wings away from being the "you're not that guy pal". Maybe the trauma was worth it.

(Again sorry for any grammar mistake. I can't read or write)

I love a game with little nuggets that subtly connect to one another to weave an story beneath the common storyline. It just gives you more insight to…well everything! It’s one of my favourites that the game developers are like ‘we’re gonna give long time players a treat and new time players a fun thing to unravel.’

Ngl, Leon would single-handedly give me brain rot so bad that I start doing crappy, half asses one liners.

It’s a disease and he’s the cause.

It ain’t my fault that Leon is so unbelievably pretty! My kryptonite is pretty boys and unfortunately Leon is on-top of the list for prettiest boys!

All he’d have to do if flash me a smile and I’d be like; 😩 😳😖🥵🤤🫠

The trauma Leon has been through had altered him so much so that his coping mechanisms are to make shitty one liners to EVERYTHING.

He thinks he’s a cool kid at heart, we know that ain’t true. He’s a dorky dork that thinks his humour is the shit.

Me: Leon go to therapy, you’re obviously not okay.

Leon: Therapy is for losers and I am no loser😎

Me: you’ve missed 6 appointments, the jokes got to stop-

In all fairness he probs doesn’t think therapy would work out for him at all and also over works himself to the bone. I remember someone saying that the reasons for Leon being jacked as all hell in re4 is so he doesn’t get taken by surprise anymore.

My baby needs a hug but he’d probably be so on edge and alert that I wouldn’t be able to without triggering his fight or flight responses.

I’d get too distracted by Leon’s ass and have a deep debate within myself whether or not it’s be inappropriate to slap it. Also Leon doesn’t skip leg day. He’s got nice thighs, and arms…and back…nice tits…

Leon probably would drink bang energy in means of staying up at night. How he finds out about bang is anyones guess.

[theworldoffostering]

I’m checking in on this space every day, but haven’t had a lot of words to write.

My dad is still here. It’s weird waiting on death. I’m spending quite a bit of time with him but life also gets in the way and it’s never as much as I would like. He’s declining but still up and walking around at home, and eating and drinking. We can no longer go out to eat with him. He often needs to be fed food if it requires utensils. These are things that have changed over the past month or so.

Summer school ends for me this week. I’m planning to submit final grades on Saturday and then take some real time off.

Ms. 6 turns 18 in about two weeks. It feels oddly empowering. She has been lording a lot over us for the past ten months. In some ways, her being 18 means we have more power and it’s messed up, but I’m grateful. I think she’s super depressed but every time I broach the subject with her she vehemently denies it and shuts down the conversation.

My mom is celebrating her birthday this weekend. I know we all feel the lasts with my dad. There is a lot of sad.

H and E both have summer jobs. One has a lawn care business and one is walking dogs. We have also gone on the list to be a foster home for kittens with our local animal shelter. So far no calls.

Baby is slated to begin play-based therapy this summer. I am holding out hope that it will be helpful. I’m not sure what else to try. He’s in a morning basketball camp this week and next. Then we are moving onto swim lessons.

NB wrapped up daycare for good last week. He’s moving into all day 4k in the fall. Holy smokes—are we done paying for daycare for forever?! Feels like a major win!

Our kids finished school last week. DS completed his driver’s ed class. He doesn’t even need to take a test at the DMV. DH and I can just say he took the class and did his hours with us, and boom! He gets a drivers license! He’s probably not quite there yet, but he’s close. I had him drive home from the Milwaukee on the interstate the other day and he did great. I need to see if he knows how to parallel park. He seems like a decent driver but still wants a lot of coaching from me and it is a lot for him to attend to at once. I’m unsure if that’s the ADHD or just inexperience, but thinking about directions, turn signals, accelerating vs braking, etc. is a lot for him to keep in his brain at one time.

DH is working a summer job at a fancy resort as a banquet server. Someone tipped us off that there is good money to be made in tips. The hours are great for summer: 2-10pm. They trained him as a server and bar tender. Busy weeks are just beginning and his first paycheck is tomorrow so we will see what happens. I’m glad he has some money coming in and glad it works in terms of the schedule.

[heyharoldsboo]

Hey everyone, Im gonna assume mama duckling has been getting some very depressive asks lately. Where is Percy, why is Percy not posting, we need to see Percy?!

I understand all of you so much. He has remained silent and as we have discussed many times why, that was the right choice. But I know probably everyone would like a bigger sign of life and would like for him to go out there and pretend like nothing happened. I too think its time for him to "rip off the bandaid" as we speak and face the music. But the truth is that no matter what we believe, what matters is what he feels.

Let me put it into a list for everyone to see. This boy has : been the victim of an online smear campaign, got called a rapist a pedo and a groomer when we all not know he is not one, got made fun of for his appearance. Nude pictures from when he was a legit child, 13 years old, leaked and were shared online and people made fun of his body... he became a victim of sexual abuse himself, do you all realize how messed up that is? people (in the hundreds probably) send him message to kill myself, how his mother should have aborted him and how he is a waste of space and should die. His entire social media likes and history got microanalyzed, so many things he has said or done got twisted into horrible things. His friends and family got harassed. There were petitions to get him fired. Did I miss something? I missed a lot I'm sure.

It has been 3 months, thats it!!!! Some people need a lifetime of therapy to get over what I just listed. Think about it, how would you feel if it happened to you? Would you be ready to face the world so soon? From experience, he has had it rough mental heath wise, no way around it! But slowly, it gets better. What he needs now is support from his fans, friends and patience. GIVE HIM TIME! wtv time he needs. Please dont loose hope and dont be negative. The wait will be worth it, I am sure of it.

And as for duck mom, please don't flood her asks anymore with negativity. Send in positive messages. Im sure she has her own life, work, family, problems to deal with. She's human like all of us! But she's still here supporting Percy whenever and however she can, probably more than any of us do. So be kind to her please, she has done so much! Stop with the gloomy depressive asks and also the asks about Percy's personal stuff. I think its pretty obvious none of his defenders are in the business of spilling his personal info that they most probably don't even know.

be kind and positive everyone please! This will be over at one point and there are many great days ahead! trust that please!

And thanks Ana for all you do xox

Percy is who is important in this story. How he is feeling and how we can better support him. Not us.

We all miss him like crazy because he CHOSE to share his life with us before.

Let’s celebrate him. Show him the love. It’s what I have been trying to do.

And yeah, I’m not in the business of spilling his info. I have shown this day after day here, that if somehow I have information, it won’t leave my hands. It’s a promise I make to everyone who comes to my inbox messages, to every anon that asks me not to share. And it wouldn’t be different with Percy.

So yeah. Thank you duckling. Truly, thank you for your words.

[thedemigodoracle]

Please read:

Ok, so as I jokingly said before “I’m back.” - I’m not joking, I am back.

Not entirely yet but here are some things to wait for in the near future.

Before I list it I need to browse fast through the real life stuff first so bear with:

- one of the reasons I did go missing from art and fandoms in general wasn’t just the ammount of books but also family situations, depression, relationships and in the last few years I lost grandma, grandpa and even my mother to a disease they don’t have it diagnosed yet because it was so rare.

Obvsly took a major hit to my mental health and the ability to write and just have energy kinda left me. I’m handling it I’m in therapy. This is all we need to talk about it.

- it’s been over ten years since some of your fave fics have been updated and while both Clichesbullet on ff.net and thatu on DA will be there and won’t be deleted HERE are what’s to expect:

1. My endgame here is reading the books back and forth again, as well as other source

Material for other fandoms I will

Be publishing for.

-updating the old fan mixes and uploading it to Spotify so it’s more accessible and going back (when possible to art).

- I will use AO3 some new aesthetics and user name (though probably just thatu) and edit a lot more to fit what I believe is better not because the world changed in general but because so

Did I.

Some of the racism and homophobia will still be there are these are the characters having flaws whose arcs weren’t complete but lots of it will also be changed because I’m 34 now I also the world is changed and some stuff just wouldn’t fly and I kinda hate it (but the old material is still there available on the old

Accounts).

- I’m not sure technology will be adapted but some references will here and there and I can clearly deliver something better now that I’ve taught English for over half of my life and am taking a masters degree on translation studies.

- real life will get me too busy sometimes so please I hope you’re excited but I know lots

Of you also have jobs or even families. So leave reviews and keep

Me company but also understand I was bad at updating before even with better time

Management this is will be a ride.

- I’m doing this to prove myself I can do and make good things.

- This site as well as the thatu blog will be updated.

- if you were a follower and have deleted your tumblr or changed usernames please leave a reply with who we were because I’ve had an eventful few years. I remember most of you, but I may need a nudge.

- both my writing and art style have developed and so did my world views - stuff will look different but hopefully still bring you comfort. And laughter.

And tears…?

- there will be some one shots posted focusing on stuff like grown up characters and new knowledge

We now have though the characterization will still follow the book ones as that’s how I kinda got used to it.

- I’m back but I’ll be getting back slowly and posting updates here. Tell ur friends who haven’t been here in a while but used to be part of our group of

Weirdos.

- I missed being a fandom person and hopefully now I can find solace in you guys back again.

- some new fandoms will pop up, as will

Some

Ships (see what I did there? Find solace? Will some ships? Hehe).

-Some extra texts will be added to whatever adaptations I make especially regarding transphobia and HP though I do intend to finish my Hannah/Neville story.

- maybe I’ll write original

Stuff too who knows?

Also, I missed you, spread the word. There’s a brand new old me in town. New ships, new views, new one shots, edits, a very different music taste (actually no I just added more stuff) and a lot of improved knowledge of vocabs and world geography.

Please spread this to whoever you think might be interested. It’s not popularity or anything, I’m trying to get back some pieces of me I lost along the way and writing and drawing used to be FUN and help me make FRIENDS.

I’ll keep u posted once everything is at least remotely ready to go.

And omg you’ll finally know what Silena had on clarisse.

Oh and I’m still not for writing smut but there will be more Adult/Mature like material as some ships require it and I am older. No minors having descriptive s*x

Of course but u know it’d feel weird to talk about these huge ass long relationships and not bring it up naturally.

Anyway, reply to this with whatever. Leave a like or something too but mostly leave a reply so we can start this journey together -

New younger fans are also welcome I’ll make my best to keep this space as safe as possible!! I teach kids and teens and I’d kill for u to have a place to be you safely.

Also there will now be additions on author notes for whether a ship is canon or fanon what I adapted and new fandoms new ships and trigger warnings before sensitive chapters that deal with stuff that before I wouldn’t.

Love, I’ve missed this,

thatu.

[khaoticsincubus]

Not Quite Human

Monster!Reader x Lawrence

⚠️:mentions of harm, non-consenting acts, mutilation, violence

(let me know if I miss any other warnings)

You are an idiot. You didn't realized you've stopped being human long ago.

All it took was dumb mistake of going from bar to bar trying to start fights for the fun of it.

Did you really think licking your wounds and watching it heal over time was normal?! You got that information watching a documentary about bats!!

But that's in the past now. You can't go back. And you seem to be liking your new self. You get to choose who you want to become.

You were invested of your culture's myths. For so long you've researched night after night wanting to know more, being unable to visit the place where your grandparents grew.

It's fine.

You'd probably get homesick immediately if you visited that place. Or scared. Nights are rough, according to your grandparents. They recall living in a secluded land halfway up a mountain, with crops thriving at the foot of it. Ownership of the land was a battle with whom gets where.

You don't really understand much so you just accepted the information as is.

Time skip to moving way up from your hometown, you just wanted a fresh start. You unpacked your belongings and finished before the sun had set.

You remembered you haven't had alcohol in a while.

There's a bar called the Jackalope or something. The reviews are decent, and you feel like it's a befitting place to chill alone.

×ו×ו×ו×ו×ו×ו×ו×ו×ו×ו×ו××

A few light drinks and you get drowsy. It's a public place, moreover, an unfamiliar place with alcohol and possibly drunk people.

But you're so sleepy.

You don't feel like fighting it.

Fuck dammit.

It feels so good to just put your head down, a few minutes. Just close your eyes for a few minutes and then you can go running home.

Safe home...

You jolt up and it's empty. You panick.

Did they lock you in without waking you?! Calm down, the lights are still brightly littering the place. Hope's not all lost. Just find a staff and-

There's someone.

Should you approach them??? Fuck it, you don't have the luxury to choose with what luck you have left.

"Hey, excuse me..." This made the stranger jump a bit. "Could I ask what's the time?"

"Oh it's almost closing time" he responded in a soft spoken voice. It's kinda cute...

"Thanks! I really have to get going now... Bye!" You ran off outside, chest pounding from the interaction. You're still scared of people. Talking to someone you're not familiar with was not on your list for the night.

You took a moment to slow down and catch your breath once you reach the closest alley. It's empty so you should be a bit safe lingering in there.

The cold breeze reminded you that your hands are shaking.

Damn it. Why is it always this bad? We're those previous exposure therapies useless? Or maybe you were caught off guard tonight? Either way you're good now.

You exited the alley and continued walking back home.

Someone's eyes are on you. You start picking up the pace, walking faster, taking longer strides and much as your legs could take.

What's that tapping sou-

You got tackled to the ground. That's all you could remember before it all went black.

You wake up to mumbling, the familiar clothing blocking your view of a room filled with variations of plants.

You stayed silent, waiting until he turns around.

"AH! You're awake" yeah, like no shit Sherlock.

Anger took over you, but seeing how much at a disadvantage you are you try keeping it cool, maintaining a pissed of expression while asking "What. Am. I. Doing. Here?!"

His fucking whispering and stuttering annoys you. Oh my look at him and the way he talks so gentle, so cute so innocent- NO!

Fucking don't let him fool you. He fucking kidnapped you.

"Well?"

"I need to keep you here..." He looks at you, those hooded eyes. Seems like he's starting to show his colors.

...

"Why in the flying fuck would I do just that?"

"Because you smell good" Oh fuck, you're in big trouble for sure. He smiles at you, and there, at the side where you once missed, are bones. He's not human. You smelt something remotely similar before, dead yet alive. But him? He's a new kind of dead smell.

You feel your arms and legs tied up, no worries, you can just snap them free. What's he going to do?

Witnesses? You can't cover your way out of this one, your only choice is murder and ridding the place of your presence, you got lucky the last time they didn't find you guilty of the murder. You just happened to know the guy when he approached you with hostility. This one, you're sure to be in big trouble. Cuz a second similar incident can't be a coincidence, can it?

Too lost in your desperation he goes unnoticed staring at you with curiosity.

"... I need to go... I'll be back" His voice slips into your head.

So he's just gonna leave you here, like this? On the bright side he isn't aware that you can just break free with ease.

The door slams shuts as he leaves.

You took a deep breath and pull on the restraints, it snaps and you're free. Your legs are sore while your arms just burn from the friction.

Approaching with what guessed to be the front door, you peer outside, an empty corridor with flickering light bulbs, others half lit, and the borders of the walls connecting the floor molding, and loud muffled yelling from one of the rooms.

You bolt out looking for the fire exit, your best chance of reaching down the ground floor, hoping your kidnapper is long gone from the building.

Your heart racing with excitement, you are so close it feels too good to be true, it's so easy, just a bit further...

The lobby is slightly crowded, people going in and out, you can't see him anywhere, and you're afraid if he'll be gone for hours or for a while. Maybe he's already on his way back up to his room?

No. No. You are smart. You've watched so many movies on how scenarios like this goes down. Just calm down. Chill. He won't be expecting you to be hiding around the fire exit. And even if he did find you there's still a slim chance of escaping him by running around the stairs.

Just stay in the fire exit room and you'll be fi-

"How did you escape?!"

He was behind you. What the fuckiddy diddly fuck you didn't notice how what it's a joke no it's not real don't turn around he's not really there-

You hesitate turning to see for yourself but you got punched directly at the side of your eye. You retaliate by slamming your palm into his ear needing to disorient him by a minute as you run outside.

He's stronger, he doesn't look like it but you felt over powered. You claw and bite your way off of his grasp but you're only wasting energy.

He grabs your skull and repeatedly slams it into the railing until you pass out cold.

You awoke with a drugged up state. That icky flavor that was once not there, stuck at the back of your throat, burning your tonsils so bad you wanted to cough it up. You gather your thoughts and find him holding a knife at you, his blurry figure waving in and out of reality and nightmares. You couldn't hide your fear, that thing is towering over you. Ready to strike at any false movements.

"Pray tell what did I fucked up for you to discover where I was so fast?" You try to focus your eyes but to no avail.

His gaze piercing you, full of darkness you can't quite read. With one hand holding the knife, he takes his other hand into you hair, and takes a good long whiff of it. He smiles meekly, "Your scent is so good".

...

That wasn't enough of an answer for you. "Are you attracted to my smell that bad?". Creep. Was it the excessive use of cheap colognes, or the freshly cut morning grass that he likes?

"It reminds me so much of those critters. The smell of death itself lodged deep in your bones... I want to have it"

Well shit.

You are out of patience and decided to just scream your lungs out. If no help is going to arrive by the least get him distracted and hope for the best there's another way out where he can't stop you.

His eyes widen and took hold of your neck, you struggled to breath a bit but tried steadying it despite losing the remainder of air you have left. You attempt to break free from your restraints once again and succeeded.

Both of you wrestle on the floor, toppling some of the pots and a few other stuff on the table down at your struggling bodies. Your bloods smearing the coarse ground, and he still hasn't budge with his tight grip on you. Black spots start flooding your vision and you're slowing down, meanwhile he grabs a water bottle of some sort rolling around, pops it open and shoves it's into your mouth. It's the same liquid that stuck when you've woken up. He keeps it in your mouth as you try to shake his hand and the bottle away. You could feel it's almost empty now, the airy container getting lighter, you could barely hear the drink slushing inside.

You start to numb. So that's what it was.

He wasn't really expecting you to fight him when he thought you where paralyzed now would he?

You're helpless. Sweaty, the cuts and bruises slowly creeping it's way into your brain, bothering you to tend to it. You can't.

"You're very difficult. But you're still now"

The next thing you know is he starts chopping your limbs, shoulders, and thighs, bones cracking and twisting, when he can't fully dislocate it he slowly grinds the knife inside the flesh to cut off the remaining 'roots' as he'd call it.

You're so out of your mind you barely understand the context of what random plant information he's spitting out. Poetic but irritating.

You're almost dead, you sense it. And faintly you can hear and feel him touching you. It's cold, the cool air nips at your skin.

Randomly, a wave of pleasure hits you. He's caressing you nipples, biting and flicking them. Saliva trailing over your neck down to your crotch, it collides with the cool air making you shiver. At this point your getting aroused by it all. With death so close to you to gave up all hope.

You aren't meant to die. He hasn't beheaded you yet, nor has he stab that weak part of your back. You smell no trace of salt nor garlic as well. What went wrong?

Him continuing to put you on edge made you whimper, shameless small cries from his actions. You feel him jump from the sounds you make every now and then, but he continues on.

At this point you find yourself accepting your date to cuck. Feeling him as you yourself as a corpse, not quite alive, and not yet dead as well, you start to enjoy getting tortured.

Constantly waiting for him to put his dick in you, or maybe it's so small you haven't felt it yet? Oof, tough luck finishing.

You're body is starting to warm up and his ragged breathing is making it worse for you. You want to keep it going longer.

He goes down and licks the tip or your aroused clit/cock. Your overstimulated legs shake wanting more, and it's taking him so long you want to take the reigns but curse yourself you still can't move but respond with noises to his every touch. He starts if slow then moderately fast.

You make a whimpering inaudible sound. Slipping in and out of the body's consciousness.

You're not completely dead yet. Just escape the next chance you can.

...

What the hell, take this time to enjoy him too whether you like it or not cuz you can't do nothing about him.

You felt your skin rubbing against the floor, slowly and surely peeling off bit by bit. It's agonizing but you need to get used to it.

When he decides it was time to stop playing with you he shoved his fat dick into you, hearing your ass skid from the impact. He needs to fucking chill.

The moderate slapping echoing, and you've noticed everything else went quiet. Or maybe he just got louder. Who knows?

It's bothering you so much that the s loud neighbors might have heard by now. Are you supposed to even like this shame?

A few minutes in and he starts getting faster, and by the sound of it he doesn't seem to last long.

Your body tingles before the warmth suddenly crashed down on you and your fingers ache to move to rid of the sensation. But you're reminded that you can't move. You're trapped inside this body, not even a squirm or whisper could come out of you.

His voice broke through your dilemma and you felt him still inside you, just staying there and catching his breath.

Now he's complimenting you and something about dead plants. He's not much a romantic if all he cares about are wilted roses now is he?

After this whole ordeal you started to felt the nausea. It's bothering you so much that the lights behind your closed eyes seemed to have gotten brighter. Way brighter. Enough to cause a piercing headache. The ambience back but louder and irritating. You're ears either itch or feel pain from the booming sound. Maybe both.

Your desperately tell yourself to sleep. Sleep. Ignore everything, big and small and just sleep. This is unbearable. You want the lights off. You want the world to shut up.

It's been a while you felt this helpless. You guessed you might not be invincible as you might think. It got to your head. You're just nothing but an in-between now. You've stopped existing as a human. And your not fully something else. You're just a pathetic thing existing with no exact future.

...

You're falling asleep... Well, there's that-

[fortheloveofdeaddove]

Mental Health Ramblings

Talked about my, er, unbalanced relationship with writing today in therapy. Got a lot off my chest I didn't know was sitting there.

I need to stop looking for meaning in my fanfiction writing lol. I AM a "writer", and I've not done a great job of incorporating that into my career or even hobbies or anywhere outside the very narrow scope of fanfiction and blogging on social media. I can look for it elsewhere, where it makes sense to look for it if I care that much. I also don't have to find meaning in it at all. That's probably a holdover from my pentecostal/judeo-christian/evangelical upbringing that needs further deconstructing.

Perfectionism has killed most of my writing projects since my early 20's. I can't accept the first draft of anything and in the revision process I burn out and experience compounded shame.

I can't accept that I am mediocre (gifted xtian white AFAB child first in college student council president never constructively criticized in adolescence etc etc), so everything has to be revised to make it appear as exceptional as I'm capable of making it. Even if that means piggy backing off someone else's talent (i.e commissioning art for fics).

I think I have something to prove because of how poorly my college experience went.

All these things get in the way of writing being neutral, fun, positive, or a good thing for me. It makes writing harmful to my mental well being to an unacceptable extent.

SO the game plan is thought-interruption. First I have to learn to identify when perfectionism has begun to creep in. That's going to take work. When I've got that down better, I can begin to respond to the thoughts in a way that interrupts them.

The old formula has been:

Brain: This is awful. That means you're awful.

Me: Yup. I am worthless, this is worthless, it's not just not good it's actively reducing the value of all writings everywhere as a whole. I am a stain on humanity. I am a burden-

Then the writing is interrupted, time passes, shame accumulates, yadda yadda and I have to wait for the next manic high to try and recapture the project, and usually for only as long as the high lasts.

So now, the script is:

Brain: This is awful. That means you're awful.

Me: That's ridiculous. Moving along.

I don't know if anyone can relate to that or not. I feel good about how I'm going to address it. Love my therapist.

To be very clear, I know some of that sounds a little harsh. I've been in therapy a long time, and I spent years (almost 9) coddling myself and being coddled in sessions. None of these listed conclusions came from my therapist. She does a lot of sitting and listening, and correcting when I become self loathing or I'm just plain on the wrong track. Maybe you want to argue with me labeling myself mediocre or say something to the contrary to emotionally comfort me, maybe not. My journey with that has been a lifetime, and no matter what, I'm currently striving for peace of mind. No matter how good the exceptional label feels, it hasn't ever brought me much peace of mind. So it's not a debate about my level of skill (because again I'm trying to NOT look for meaning or self value in fanfiction) and if I'm being too hard on myself (I probably am, my brain is still addicted to the idea that someone/thing MUST be OR ELSE). It's about my inability to accept myself as I am.

The conversation about how to take writing to other parts of my life isn't one I know how to have yet. I feel like a student without a teacher. I don't know what to do. Fiction isn't where I naturally excel. I probably need a lot more education. See? See where this goes?

That's all.

[seidenbros]

Hello! Would you be able to do an Eddie x y/n 1 where y/n has a CPTSD flashback and panic attack by being triggered by someone shouting/sudden loud noise and Eddie realises whats happened and has to try to bring y/n back to the present by voice/gentle touches as well as slow gradual movements so that he doesn't scare y/n more then they already are?

Requests are open | prompt lists for inspiration | Stranger Things Masterlist

Hello there 💚Thank you so much for your request! It's not an easy topic, so I really hope I did it justice, because it is something I don't have personal experience with (and I know how lucky I am!), so I really hope I portrayed it well. Pairing: Eddie Munson x gn!Reader (let me know if I missed something) Word count: 2620 Warning/Tags: angst with happy ending, hurt/comfort, cptsd, childhood trauma, child abuse, panic attack (let me know if I missed anything)

Falling to Pieces

About a year ago, you’d moved to Hawkins, moved on with your aunt, because you couldn’t live with your parents anymore. It had taken years for someone to realise what was going on in your home, because you’d always hidden it well, had always been the quiet kid, the outcast, so nobody had gotten close to you. The whole facade had crumbled down when your aunt had come for a surprise visit and had seen the injuries on your body. Once she’d cracked your shell, you’d started to tell her everything, about what had been going on ever since you’d been what? Eight? Nine? Ever since they’d been sure that you understood that you couldn’t tell anyone or you would end up in the streets, because nobody would want to take care of you. Your aunt would have done that, would have taken you in a heartbeat if she’d known, and she’d cursed herself for not realising this sooner.

By now, you were just happy that it was over, that you were living with someone who genuinely cared about you, who was taking care that you got the help that you needed and had set you up with a therapist. It had taken some time for you to open up, but by now, you were quite happy with the arrangement, worked on what you were talking about, and you were honest, which was the most important thing.

Therapy was actually where you’d met Eddie a few months ago. Yes, you’d seen him around, and he’d certainly caught your eye, but you’d never really talked until that day a couple of months ago, when you’d nearly bumped into him, while exiting the building.

“Sorry my lady,” he’d apologised immediately, bowing to you with a grin that had made your knees weak. When he’d straightened again, he’d scrunched up his nose for a moment. “You're Gloria’s niece, right? Can you give me just a minute? Then we can go.”

He’d caught you completely off guard with that, so you’d waited in front of the building for him, even though you hadn’t had any idea why. Five minutes later, Eddie had been with you again, telling you that your aunt had asked him to pick you up, because she’d been stuck at work.

From that day on, you’d spent more and more time together, and you’d even told Eddie a little bit about your therapy sessions. Sure, he’d guessed where you’d been that day, where you went every tuesday afternoon, but he’d never asked until you’d told him. It had become a weekly routine that he picked you up, asking you how therapy had gone after you’d confided in him. You’d become friends over time, and Eddie knew a little bit about your past, about your aunt taking you in because you hadn’t been safe in your parents’ presence anymore. He didn’t know exactly what had happened, how long you’d lived in these conditions, but he’d definitely picked up on your behaviour when you heard certain sounds, when it suddenly got too loud around you.

Eddie constantly made sure that you were okay, when you spent time together. His eyes lingered on you a little longer than was probably appropriate, he was careful with touching you every time, and always made sure you were okay with where you were going. The cinema? During the week, when there were less people there. Most of the time you stayed at your aunt’s house or at his trailer. You loved it when he played some music for you, but he always made sure to not turn the amp up too much. Eddie was very observant when it came to you, because he liked you. More than he’d probably like to admit, but he did.

That was why he wanted to do something special for you, take you somewhere nice where you could hopefully forget everything for a while and just forget about all your troubles. So, he picked you up after your therapy session like he usually did, but didn’t go towards your aunt’s home, no, he went in the other direction.

“This is not the way to my home,” you said, voice a little shaky, because you didn’t know what was happening.

“No, I thought I could take you somewhere nice, where you can relax and free your mind a little hopefully.” Eddie cast a glance at you, before he looked back out on the street, slowing down a little bit. “Only if that’s okay with you of course! Shit, I should have asked you first, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, no, don’t apologise!” You didn’t want him to feel guilty, because you were always a little… careful. Eddie had always made you feel safe, constantly checking up on you, so you knew that he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable on purpose. “It’s… a nice thought. Really!”

“Are you sure? Because I can turn the car around!” “Yes I’m sure. Actually kind of curious where you’re taking me.”

“Ahh well…” Eddie scratched the back of his neck, and was he blushing? “It’s nothing that special. Just the house of a… friend. I’m looking out for it while he’s indisposed.” A nice way of saying that Rick was in jail at the moment, but that didn’t really matter right now. “It’s at Lover’s Lake, so I thought we could take the boat and just get on the lake, enjoy the silence out there for a moment.” And when you had enough of that silence, you could go in the house and watch a movie or something. Eddie really wanted to spend more time alone with you, and nobody really came here, so it was the perfect place for some peace and quiet. Of course, Lover’s Lake was highly frequented during the summer months, but not this side of the lake.

“That sounds nice.” You smiled to yourself, because it was such a sweet gesture. Eddie had really thought about what you might enjoy and so he’d ended up with you at Rick’s house.

Relief washed over Eddie, because he’d thought that he’d overstepped your boundaries. There was a lot that you’d talked about, but still more that you hadn’t talked about, so he wasn’t sure if you’d enjoy this little trip. He loved seeing you smile, and so when you showed that smile right now, his stomach flipped, happiness spreading through his whole body.

Once you got there, Eddie parked the van and came around to open the door for you. He held out his hand for you to take and you happily did. You’d done that before, had walked hand in hand, once or twice, and every time you allowed him to hold your hand, Eddie was overjoyed. Because it was a sign of trust, something that meant a lot to him. That you decided to do this with him today was another way of showing him that you were beginning to trust him. There was still a long way to go, due to your past, and he knew that, so he was happy with everything you were willing to give him.

“If at any point, you feel uncomfortable, you’ll let me know, right? We can leave any time.” He had to make sure that you knew that, that you didn’t feel like going through with this to do him a favour or anything.

“Alright. I’ll keep that in mind.” With a smile on your lips, you squeezed his hand, held on to it as he led you to the boathouse to the side of the house. You’d never been here before, it was your first trip to Lover’s Lake, but it looked quite nice.

Eddie had to let go of your hand to take care of the boat, take everything that you wouldn’t need out of it and then lower the boat to the water. It went well until you heard loud noises from outside, something crash, people shouting.

“Jesuc Christ, who is-” Eddie started, turning around to look outside, because usually nobody came here, but his eyes landed on you and he let go of the boat immediately.

Instinctively, you’d crouched down, covering your face with your hands, shrinking as far back against the wall as was humanly possible. Your heart was hammering in your chest, palms sweating profusely as you tried to hide your body so that you would stay unharmed. Your whole body was trembling, breathing bacem more and more difficult for you, because you felt like someone was pressing down on your chest.

This wasn’t happening, you were safe, your parents were nowhere to be found, miles and miles away. You told yourself that, tried to calm yourself down, but to no avail. When another crashing noise could be heard outside, you whimpered, screwing your eyes shut. You felt like you were back in your childhood home, your parents arguing in front of your door until you mother left and your father came into your room to have his way with you. You could nearly feel his hands on your body, making you sick to your stomach. You’d escaped all of this, you knew that deep down, but right now, it felt all too real

“Y/n…” Eddie said softly, walking over to you, but you shrank back even more, keeping your eyes closed to keep some kind of control.

Eddie wasn’t sure what to do, how to approach you, because he couldn’t just let you stay down there in this state alone, but he also didn’t want to scare you even more. You’d talked about your past, had let him in on a few details, and when he’d seen some of your scars, you’d told him briefly how you’d gotten them. He knew that your parents were responsible for everything, but there were still a lot of things he didn’t know, that you weren’t able to tell him. Your therapist knew, but she was the only one. Not even your aunt knew the full extent of the damage your parents had done.

Eddie cast a quick look out of the window, but the people who’d come here, probably to see if Rick was home or not, were just leaving. His eyes were on you again immediately, and he slowly got down on his knees, still keeping his distance, because he didn’t want you to move even further away.

“They’re gone… It’s all quiet again,” Eddie informed you, eyes never leaving your frame. He watched every little reaction. “Nobody’s gonna harm you here, alright? Not when I’m here. LIsten to me, okay and keep breathing. Deep breaths, in through your nose, out through your mouth, can you do that for me?”

He thought he saw the tiniest of nods from you, so he took a deep breath himself.

“I’m here, okay? I’ll slay all the dragons that might come your way, or give them something to hoard if they are nice and don’t want to eat you. I’ll walk all the way to Mordor with you so we can throw your worries into Mount Doom and get rid of them.”

While listening to Eddie, you followed what he’d told you, taking deep breaths. It was easier when he was talking to you, because his words made you visualise what he was telling you. It even made you smile a little bit, and you slowly felt the tension ease out of your body. When you opened up your eyes again to look at him, you even took one hand away from your eyes. Eddie seized that moment to reach out his own hand. Only his fingertips were brushing against your hand. You tensed for a second again, before you relaxed and placed your hand in his. 

“Or if you prefer, I can bring you to the Shire and make sure that you get all the meals you need. Breakfast, second breakfast, elevenses… And I’ll definitely protect you from all the orcs that might cross your path.”

Your breathing became steadier, no more pressure on your chest, and you felt yourself calm down more and more. Your hands were still trembling a little bit, but that was the aftershock of your own panic attack. You were still listening for any loud sounds, waiting for someone to barge through that door and come at you, but Eddie managed to draw your focus towards him.

“Just think that Gandalf should keep his fireworks to himself this time, right?” Eddie looked into your eyes, slowly pulling you up with him. When he saw your nod, his smile softened. He let go of your hand, slowly ran his fingertips up your arm. “But I think a little lesson in fighting might not be so bad, huh? So you can learn to slay your own dragons and defend yourself from the orcs in this world.”

“Probably,” you eventually managed to say out loud, and once you were sure that there was nobody coming in here, you relaxed a little more. Without thinking too long about it, you stepped up to Eddie, wrapping your arms around his middle. His familiar scent filled your nose, grounding you even more. You pressed your nose against his chest and closed your eyes.

Eddie took a deep breath before he wrapped his arms around you as well - not too tight, though, because he didn’t want you to feel caged in his embrace.

“I mean it, okay?” he said a lot more quietly now, before he leaned down to brush his lips across your forehead. “I’ll protect you no matter what. You’re safe with me.”

Eddie’s hands moved slowly over your back, up and down in a soothing motion until he felt you melt into him. Now, it was his heart that was picking up its pace, because of you, because you were in his arms, and he’d been thinking about this for so long now, but he’d never made a move. He wouldn’t do that now, he was just glad that he’d been able to help you in this situation. And maybe… maybe you’d trust him enough one day to let him take you out on a proper date.

“We can leave if you want to, if you need some rest. I can take you home.” Eddie offered, smoothing a hand over your hair, before he pulled back slightly to look at you.

“I… don’t know.” You raised your head, scrunched your nose up in thought. “No, I want to try this. It sounded so nice.”

“Alright, but remember-”

“I’ll let you know when I want to go,” you said with a smile, but then you pulled him towards you to kiss his cheek. “And then you, Eddie… You were wonderful just now.”

“Ahh, I just did what I thought might work, because I wasn’t sure.”

“It worked perfectly. And I love what you said.” You’d talked about books a lot, and you knew how passionate he was about The Lord of the Rings, so it was probably only natural that he’d used it as a reference, but it had worked so well for you at the moment. “So, you’ll take me out to elevenses some time?”

“If you want that, sure!” He couldn’t deny the fact that his heart skipped a beat at your words, and the bright smile on his lips made you grin to yourself.

“I’d love that.”

“Great…Awesome!” Now it was Eddie who leaned towards you to press a kiss to your cheek, before he quickly turned towards the boat again to get that ready for you. It hadn’t been your first panic attack, but the first one that had been over so quickly because of Eddie. With him by your side, you really knew that you were safe.

Tag-list: @violetpenguinkris @tellhound @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @spideyanakin-interacts @bellamy-barnes @beepisbeep @snapefiction @hardysbitch @give-em-hellfire @sadbitchfangirl @ravenclawkimmi @lacrymosa-24 @ruinedbythehobbit @samlealea

Let me know (send me a message) if you want to be on one of my tag-lists. I have one for the Promises Series, Eddie x Reader, Steddie and Steve x Reader 💚

[mental-health-advice]

OCD and getting help

I'm 17 in the UK. I think I have OCD and I talked to my GP about it a few weeks ago. She agreed that it sounds like OCD but she can't refer me for therapy. The waiting list for CAMHs is so long that by the time I turned 18 I would be kicked off but adults services don't accept referrals from people under 18. Going private isn't an option because my parents make hurtful comments about mental health in general and the mental health of other family members and I think it would do more harm than good to talk to them. I'm frustrated and I don't know what to do, I probably won't get help until after my a level exams and my mental health is making it impossible to write essays. I'm worried that I won't get the grades I need for uni and I'm constantly anxious and convinced that I'm dying of a serious illness. I'm tired of having to be resilient and I jsut want something to change.

Hey there,

I can see and can sympathise greatly with you how difficult it can be when you are wanting help, support and answers but the waiting list is just too long to bare. I know that you mentioned that you won’t be able to receive face-to-face support from a therapist due to long waiting lists with CAMHs and the fact that you are so close to turning 18 that being put onto the list may be pointless and the fact that you cannot get onto the adult services list until you actually turn 18, but have you ever thought of getting help and support from a counsellor either from a helpline or on web counselling? I know that these services may not be as great as face-to-face counselling, but it may be helpful in the short-term until you are able to see someone face-to-face. I also don’t know if this is true of every helpline/ web counselling service, but some will even let you have counselling with the same counsellor ongoingly if that makes is a bit easier. Again, it’s not the same I know but it may be something worth thinking about.

I am so sorry to hear that your parents aren’t great when it comes to other people’s mental health, but if they were to see how much you were struggling right now then perhaps they would be more open to listen to you and help you to get the help and support privately if they have the finances to do so. I again, do not know your parents or exactly how they may react if you were to talk to them, but if things get really bad and phone or online counselling isn’t helping as much as you need it to be, then it may be your only option in the end. Maybe even having a chat to them about your possible OCD with your GP could be beneficial at first as your GP can bring it up and break the ice between you and your parents so to speak. Just an idea.

I really hope that this has helped a bit and please do let us know if we can help to support you in any other way!

I’m thinking of you, hope you are going OK and I wish you all the best with your A level exams!

Take care,

Lauren

[formulatrash]

2022 top intrusive thoughts

Do we still post our songs of the year on Tumblr? I forget how I've been doing it for the past few years. Whatever, Gen Z, here's my top songs of 2022 and a long ramble about the state of everything in my head.

My favourite songs of the year is a sort of mental breakdown only loosely about music. It’s more of a Hazelwipe of whatever mess we’re seeing some purely-numerical way out of and into the next one. 

This year is about death. And grief. And love, stored in a big, white cat. It’s a bit like a webweave with a playlist and the thing I’m mythologising is my own year but haven’t we all been desperately in need of an alternate universe?

It’s annoying that ‘what is grief, if not love persevering?’ is a Marvel quote. But there we go, how appropriate for a year that certainly made me want to face god and walk backwards into hell. The thing is, there’s a difference between grief and loss and I don’t think that 2022 has actually involved a lot of grieving. Just losing and then staring at the void in blank uncomprehension because how are you supposed to just accept that people and things are gone that way. 

I’m old enough that there have been years where a few friends or relatives have died. There’s never been a year before where that’s hit double figures. And what right do I have to feelings about it, anyway? It’s not me that’s dead. 

I know that’s not how it works. But if ghosts are supposed to be spirits that haven’t passed on, still stuck on something holding them to earth then, well, that seems kinda silly but also a blunt metaphor for complicated feelings you can’t process yet. 

What’s more of a haunting than an invasive thought? All my friends are dead, right in the middle of something you were trying to behave normally about but why should you? Why would anything be normal at a time like this? 

I have thought about wanting to go home a lot this year. I don’t know where I mean by that. Maybe it’s this list. Maybe this is the campfire embers that give you the excuse of smoke for weeping. Maybe just mundanely curating a top fifteen songs that have been looped into numbness is the annual, purgative equivalent of the dishes somehow being there waiting to be washed, regardless of the DEFCON level.

In which case: the rules of this (“””rules”””) are that I have to be at least somewhat convinced the song came out this year and only one song per artist, unless it’s a guest spot or possibly a remix in which case that’s just whatever. LFG

Here is the playlist

15. Next to Normal - Lucius

There were a bunch of Lucius tracks that nearly made it onto here. It’s probably an indictment of how basic I am that the one that made it on is the most squelchy disco instead of lovingly crafted acoustics or whatever but there’s no time for shame, on the songs of the year list. 

The opening line of the opening song of this being I lost some friends/along the way is probably a little too on-the-nose. The next line, though, being laughing at the wrong times/saying things too straight, is a different thing.

I’m feeling old, lately. Not really in the sense of thinking I’m going to die, although there’s a bit of me that’s like damn I may not get to do whatever things I want to do, just in a like: heck, think I might be stuck like this way. This is, in fact, what I am doing when I grow up. I am not going to become normaler.

And ok yeah, with massive amounts of therapy and self-development and space and money and time I could probably rewire myself into something more functional. In the interim I have to swing between running in safe mode and developing if not coping methods than at least a deep understanding of exactly which bits are buggy and how to work round them. It’s a contortion and of course it’s not what top medical professionals suggest for dealing with whatever the fuck is wrong with you but I’m hoping that, in lieu of fixing me, I can at least make it funny. 

Squelchy disco is definitely funny, at the same time as fixing absolutely nothing. 

14. Slow Song - The Knocks & Dragonette

This is too shiny, too full of love, to really have a place in 2022. But then, even in times like these there’s tenderness innit. 

Despite what I just said about the previous song, I have been in this years-long attempt to get better. I do not want to be as severely mentally ill as I am, it’s really bad and there’s also this like, general switch-off from life I’ve had where I don’t know what I enjoy anymore. Maybe nothing. 

And one of the things I did to try and improve stuff was get a cat. Not a nice, normal cat, obviously, a semi-demonic, extremely elderly ex-feral cat with dementia who it’d probably be best to describe as “difficult” and “hostile.” 

She’s a big, weird, fluffy cloud and when she’s being really truly possessed and just heavy-thunk-walking around the flat, intermittently screaming then some nice middle-of-the-road music actually stops her being a freak. She’s particularly committed to a few old tracks I’m not a huge fan of (the emergency reset button for Indy is Layla) but this is where we can cross over, in a song about the tender, long term familiarity of love, even when it’s not a conventional fairytale. 

I got ways of losing you baby/I’m faster than whatever you’re chasing shouldn’t, really, be almost heartbreakingly devotional but it is. The idea of love that’s so well-established you can fuck with it, that knowing you can’t be conventional is no problem because there’s trust there anyway - returning to each other like a song loop. Well, maybe there is some aspirational hope for love, after all. Something still to want. 

In the meantime, there is a big, white cat purring like a broken tractor because she likes sitting with me and listening to music. And that’s pretty great, if I’m honest.

13. Broke - BEGINNERS (St Lucia Remix)

This just stumbled into my Spotify release radar at some point and became one of my most-played songs of the year. It’s a glittery electropop banger, under St Lucia’s expert moulding and it’s about making bad life choices - something I am very expert in. 

Something this year has definitely told me is that there is no point waiting and saving things. You don’t know that you’re going to get to them. It’s always better to be broke than lonely is extremely bad financial advice but I’d rather be poor than miss out on the limited number of things I still do outside work. 

Comfort hedonism is obviously ridiculous as a concept and not exactly likely to be a long-term solution but sometimes saying seeing your friends is worth it, that you’d rather eat instant noodles than miss a night in the pub.

Maybe it’s morbid that nearly everything I’ve felt this year has orbited the black hole gravity pit of loss but making sense of something senseless is a recursive, looping process. 

I listened to this a lot when things were getting very bad, this summer. When I knew I had to stop doing the work I loved, that I already didn’t enjoy anything outside of - the bright, glittery, arms-in-the-air shout of I’m trying to stop/having all these bad thoughts rattled round the inside of my head while I locked off more boxes of things it’s not possible to think about and shoved them into cold storage.

In all that rigorously enforced minimalism there’s something so warm to the embrace of your seat, in your pub, with your conversation. To finding something - else, anything - to talk about still. And I was gonna be broke anyway, so what’s it worth being miserable over.

12. Dance For You - Empress Of

Every year I manage to write this list there’s some track about yearning for dancefloors and staying out too long and it used to be because I still did that sort of thing and now I guess I don’t. Not cus I’m old, that’s bollocks, I’m sure I could stay up later than most 24 year olds and actually I was out until like, 6am the other week but well, no one does anymore do we?

Maybe someone is. This is probably just another one of the things I’ve given up doing because I don’t know how to enjoy it anymore. Which is probably why nothing intended for a three-glasses-of-white-wine-and-a-shot-of-sambucca dancefloor invasion is on here, just this, the gentle, warm, melancholy echo of dancing. 

Like setting down an empty bottle and your heels on an abandoned dancefloor and sliding a foot across to see if your tights stick, under your toes. If there’s enough residue of what was all that messy, throwaway, momentary stuff until everything became tediously monumental. 

It’s a sad spell to conjure something back but the votive flame licks enough bpm through it to keep the sparks going. Kiss the morning/on the head/in the body of a woman on the last dance - forgetting how to dance is one thing, maybe just remembering how to come back home happy’d be enough progress.

11. No One Dies From Love - Tove Lo

This is just a very good Tove Lo song and the No one dies from love/guess I’ll be the first chorus is absolutely banging melodrama. Proper 80s ballad stylings on a bunch of levels, not least the thrumming call-and-repeat chorus. 

Obviously being hideously dramatic about a heartbreak is important. I don’t know if I can actually do that anymore. But I respect anyone who can and the scenery-chewing scale of being like “I actually am going to be the first person who straight-up dies about it.” And the synths hum and push it forwards, out of the dirge territory the vocals are in danger of hitting otherwise (please tell me there are no acoustic versions) in a way that contrasts just enough to keep it all interesting. 

There are things I can’t talk about to don’t want you moving on when it’s my end but that’s by the by. It’s just a sad banger.

10.  CUFF IT - Beyoncé 

You know who seems to have her life 100% under control to the tiniest minutiae? Beyoncé. So I respect that a lot of her songs are actually about either being or wanting to be a messy bitch. I don’t know if they’re written autobiographically because Beyoncé doesn’t have to tell us and it doesn’t change the fact they’re true either way. Take this, which is a bubbly little number about wanting to get wrecked and fuck your life up. 

As an area of expertise, for me, that’s naturally of interest. I feel like falling in love/I’m in the mood to fuck something up mm, yeah, maybe not the love but I get the overall vibe. Absolutely wrecking things with the good times. I’d assume B meant like, actually good times or maybe romantic ones but there’s a little discordancy to the track and it’s particularly in the trilling, smooth, hysteria of the way she delivers I wanna go missing/I need a prescription. 

Sometimes, when you are going through a city in the dark, in the back or a passenger seat of a car and you’ve already had a few, there’s this like, electric knowledge that you’re gonna fuck something (yourself) up. It’s exciting and horrifying, like jumping out of a plane but the suspension’s smooth and you’re warm and secure, it’s just the choice that’s a little like jumping. This song gets that, golden lights streaming past the window and all. 

9. The Fall - Zola Jesus

In ‘things that shock no one’ I, an old goth, like Zola Jesus’ dark, creeping semi-classical. This is one of her most straightforwardly poppy songs for ages, almost an MOR rock chorus and some lovely synths a bit like Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac.

It’s probably the unlikely ‘Zola Jesus songs that sound a bit like The Fray’ area that appeals almost exclusively to a venn diagram of me but as a brooding bit of mood-absorption that can cathartically bleed things off through the earphones cable it’s really excellent. 

Then about halfway through it sort of flips and becomes, frankly, even more like ‘Zola Jesus does The Fray’ with a middle eight breakdown that takes all the sludge off it and goes for some light rock stylings before a plunge into aimless, much-more-Zola-Jesus-y echoing for twenty seconds or so.

It’s just a grumpy, curmudgeonly bit of dadrock and I like that. 

8. Feedback - La Roux, Baby Tate

It’s pretty weird that I have a playlist called La Roux Songs About Driver Assist Functions that now has three tracks on it. It almost feels cringe being a car person and putting this in my tracks of the year but also half the reason I like it is because I think it’s very funny. 

But also I’ve been stepping on the gas when I break down, I’m in here running laps when it rains down ok thanks for this blunt metaphor for breaking yourself in a motorsport context. Other banging lines like might swap my twitter for a journal/tried to run but I’m running into hurdles I mean, it’s fucking on the nose like a punch but sometimes someone accidentally puts your own invasive thoughts and cyclical breakdowns into a little fun, bouncy banger that’s coincidentally got a load of car metaphors.

The Weeknd (who I think of as existing somewhere in the timeline of La Roux roughly the way Britney Spears was briefly ‘the American Billie Piper’) does a lot of car related shit but the real automotive fiend in the coked up paranoid electropop space is La Roux. I find it kinda fascinating and I'd love to interview her about it because it's not the same status stuff as with hyperpop's car fixation, it's that she just seems to think about things through various car functions. About actual driving, more than cars even - which is pretty cool to me, obviously because I'm a nerd but also just like, striking as a pop motif.

7. Wasteman - Kate Nash

Didn’t have a break up this year, so maybe it’s weird this one made it in. Well, I lie; didn’t have a break up with a human being I was in a romantic relationship with, just had one of those ones where you realise letting go of years of excruciating effort is the only logical conclusion over something you love that’s really fucking you up. It’s just in my case that was an electric racing series, which is kind of very funny and maybe I’ll do some stand up about it one day. 

“You know,” I’ll say, “when you’re into that stage where you can’t remember what made you feel good about spending any time with them and you still love them but you can’t imagine any way where it works out for you to be happy, with all this water under the bridge and you’ve said for years it’s your fault and you’ll find a way and then they finally cross a line that makes you think - oh fuck you?” 

Oh yeah, the audience is thinking. Yeah, when things have just got like, harrowingly bitter but there’s a freedom to the revelation you can just grieve it. It’s gone. It was making you worse and things worse and no matter how much you wanted it it wasn’t going to work out. 

And they won’t know I’m talking about a stupid, misaligned, increasingly acerbic relationship with a racing series that saved my life five years ago. Something I fell in love with when I didn’t think I could fall in love again. Something that gave me a sense of purpose and joy and hope when I really needed it last time so it’s not just been a waste, man. 

But there’s a point where you have to reclaim a little bit of yourself from the sadness and sometimes that means realising you fucking hate them, just a little bit. That this isn’t fair and you’re sad about it but also there has to be that moment where like: it’s done, it’s gone, you can’t do anything about this anymore. Yes, there are probably other universes where it worked out better but you’re not in them. 

This song helps because it eases you into it like a friend gently explaining that actually, yes, you do have to do this. Let's you turn it around a few times in your own brain with the repetition like the loop conversations anyone who’s had to tell a friend that, yes, you have to get rid of that guy. 

And then the strings kick in and it’s that shoulder shrug of sometimes there being nothing you can do. Doesn’t matter how much you put in or how much you are owed by the universe for this. It didn’t work, it didn’t happen - it is true a lot in motorsport and yes it’s because I’m me, too queer too, too loud, too willing to battle it out on principles, too not in a position to be able to do that. Maybe too insecure, eventually - but I’d like to see the men who call me that on Twitter ship themselves transatlantically and across the world on a hope and a prayer. 

Of course it’s always me but ultimately, it could have worked if enough people had bought into not just the idea of me but what I was doing. It’s ok, it’s over. Maybe it’s good to become a less desperate human being.

Took me some time to see/you’re actually shady

You fucking take the piss/I must have been crazy

You cannot win them all. (but bro, I would’ve really liked to win this one and it hurts like hell and this is my song for when I feel like I want to slink back and beg)

6. Black Mascara - RAYE

This is solidly into the things I can’t speak about, emotionally. 

Musically, this is just a triumph; a beautiful, dark work about how screwed you are. A spectacular, layered, four-poster of what you’ve done to me, what you’ve done to me - I don’t want to be that person. Neither does this song. But there it is, stacking on top of itself in impossible, towering pressure. 

5. Beg For You - Charli XCX & Rina Sawayama

This is so warm and urgent and gorgeous and so desperate for that human contact off a plane. I only took 27 flights in 2022 which is low for me but still horrific for the planet, all were for work. Not getting collected is miserable - not getting dropped off is worse. A few years ago I didn’t mind leaving home at all because home was a boat with no door but now I’ve just managed to get my life enough together to have some sense of a place and people and big, warm, marshmallow cat to come back to that’s definitely mine. Maybe I’m finally doing that becoming a person bit I probably should have worked out 15 years ago. 

Anyway, this - half-angry and very soppy and completely in love, is gorgeous. It’s all desperation and longing and wanting to spend more time with someone even when you’re with them, about the comfort of being known without having to be seen. About the giddiness of missing someone with the excitement they’ll be back. 

I don’t actually know if my friends miss me when I’m away, they might well be glad I’ve fucked off for a bit frankly but I miss them when they go. I got really offended a month or so ago when everyone was busy or out of the country simultaneously and like, what, I’m meant to hang out with people outside the six ones I’ve decided are home? Outrageous. Why would no one cater to my needs like this. 

Turning into the cat aside, this is an early-00s garage banger turned sweetly desperate and that’s exactly the kind of thing I’m into.

4. Somebody Like You - Bree Runway

I had a lot of formative musical experiences in the 90s when a Phil Collins/Annie Lennox style synth ballad of ludicrously dramatic proportions was the height of pop performance. So this In The Air Tonight-scale enormo-pop thing isn’t really what I expected from Bree Runway but does hit a very specific spot. I feel like it deserves more words for being this far up the list but nope: it’s just a very massive ballad and it slaps.

3. This Hell - Rina Sawayama

Cute, very late-00s pop about burning eternally in the after life as a shared queer celebratory experience is a genre I think there should be a lot more of. 

It’s weird cus like, I know I am in queer but tend to think I don’t really face all that much homophobia or whatever, apart from off my mum and Fernando Alonso fans. But like, it’s a pretty tough time to be in the LGBTQ+ community, isn’t it? There’s the Qatar world cup, the constant violent attacks, the legislative pushes to make us illegal to speak about, ‘gender critical’ misogyny and appalling transphobia, queer people hurt and harmed and demonised and treated as threats, as something filthy. 

Idk if it’s the microaggressive oppression-collusion of the way motorsport fans reach for the smelling salts at the first sign of anything remotely queer, like it’s too filthy for the world to ever know about. Or the outright abuse from transphobes, convinced they can ‘just tell’ that a cis woman would never support trans people being able to live their fucking lives like anyone else. 

And a Xenomania-esque, unrepentant pop song that turns the idea of eternal damnation into an endless love is just - honestly, give it all the prizes. I’m sick of media explaining it’s hard to be queer, that’s for straight people. I wanna hear that it’d be worth any vision of hell for a chance at love, that it’s good to be us regardless. That the shitness of the world is better together, that it pays off to stay. 

2. 2 Be Loved (Am I Ready) - Lizzo

It’s really, just. Like. Embarrassing to hate yourself when you’re 36. Like, come on, I should be over this, I need that brain capacity for other things. I can’t be worrying about whether anyone thinks I’m hot for fuck’s sake, we’re past that event horizon.

And yet. Here we are. I can pick at everything from my physical failings to my personal or professional ones, my myriad of mental health issues, my laundry list of trauma. I don’t even want a relationship - or I’m too scared of the idea, at least, now. I wouldn’t expect anyone to put up with this. I’m surprised the cat even does.

Beyond any of that, I guess it’d be nice to be able to take a compliment without having a mental breakdown. Accept that people will sometimes praise my work without it snapping shut a bear trap in my head that literally hurts me. 

I listened to this all the way to Mexico and back last month. The full 11 hours. I feel like I can trust it in a way most coming-out-of-the-self-esteem-crisis anthems don’t. Lizzo is obviously amazingly hot and ludicrously cool. But I can believe she doesn’t always think that about herself. Can understand the idea of having to put in work to not hate yourself. 

At the end of the day, it’s a shiny pop song about finally finding love and of course I’m getting soppy in my old age but that’s hopeful. That it’s worth the work of bothering to deal with the mess in your head because there’s something to be gained from seeking out and accepting love. That there's still value to wanting things.

1. Were We Ever - Kyla La Grange

If there are alternate universes, with every point that something happens branching into all possible consequences, then it feels as though those are being snuffed out. Everything turning into a narrowing funnel towards a future no one wants to be in. And yet I wish my friends were still with me to see it. 

This is the song I didn’t loop but somehow turned up in my Spotify Wrapped most played. Every time I think about my dead friends and the insane circumstances, I can’t really think. I don’t have the emotional range, maybe, for so much loss. I know who and what to blame but there’s no fixing it, for that. Destroying weapons is worthwhile but for its own sake, not because it will undo what they’ve done. Curing diseases is good but it can’t bring anyone back. There are a million what ifs to a lot of things and when they converge into whatever is going forwards there’s no take backs. 

This song sits in the sulky liminal. About a relationship crumbling but it might as well be about reality in general; were we ever happy? Was there a point where it was possible to hold each other? What existed before the static-roar of whatever this is now?

I don’t know. Or well, intellectually I do, a little bit - it’s painful to think about, though, which is why the white noise has to be so all-consuming.

This is quiet and calm and furious. It’s not about shock or sudden pain. It’s about what everything has felt like it’s about this year; looping a single thought until you can let it go like a held breath. Holding on in there until the shaking subsides. Keeping your nerve through the impossible. Not screaming.

The if you would’ve held me like that, I wouldn’t forget it refrain is a type of mournful anger that’s accepting as much as it’s denying. The insistent chime feels like the pushing on of time, clocks not stopping even when life does. That’s the thing, isn’t it - it all just relentlessly carries on, regardless of who’s no longer there. 

When I can’t think about the things that are intruding on my thoughts, this fills the space. It’s just cathartic enough that it doesn’t jar. It’s angry but realistic with it, which helps because what’s the point at raging at death, you might as well fight gravity. I find it very hard to talk about my feelings because my fury at Putin’s monstrous actions is one thing and my grief for my friends is another, something sharper and more personal - they died politically and senselessly but I remember them personally and with meaning, from the way they touched my life. 

If you woulda held me like that, I wouldn’t forget it - I don’t know when it will stop feeling like 2022. I don’t know when the static can be turned down. I don’t even know which order to feel things in, when it gets to the future. On the darker days, I don’t know if there’ll be one - there isn’t, for so many people. But there is something about holding and being held, not forgetting. The future is dangerously statistical, except the things you remember.

There isn’t a bright note to end on here. It’s 2022 and it’s dark. But if you need one: go hold something, be held. Keep something in your heart, even if it feels impossibly fragile right now.