#but i mention anxiety and like suddenly i am unfit

[nojohi]

Wanna hear a fun fuckin story, today when I got to work my boss pulled me aside to tell me that someone told her I made a post about anxiety on Facebook and that I should be careful what I say because parents are going to think I am too anxious to care for their children

Like what. The fuck.

[queentargary3n]

blessings

SasuSaku month 2020 Day 17 

Reincarnation AU  - Police Officer Sasuke AU

There isn’t a single day of his life that Uchiha Sasuke isn’t thankful for his life. For his mother’s gentle smile and kind nature, for his father’s silent praises, for his brother’s company and support. He’s even grateful for his loud mouthed, blond, best friend, who annoys him most of the time, but has his back when he needs it the most. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve such great people in his life.

At 24, having graduated college, and finished training in the police academy, he sets up for a bright career as a police officer and hopes to make detective before he is 30.

So, he goes to work every day, knowing he is making a change. Watching over the people he grew up with, protecting his beloved town, and actually doing something about the crime that has begun to infest it.

Sasuke knows his life is good, he was born in a good family, went to a top tier university, he never lacked for anything. He knows that having his family, being able to afford his own place, buy a new car, and work in something he actually likes is a luxury many don’t actually have.

But even as he counts his blessings every day, he can’t escape the feeling that he is missing something. Like there is a hole inside of him, he can’t seem to fill with anything.

He doesn’t remember when his nightmares started, perhaps he’s always had them. Sometimes it’s the bloody corpses of his parents that terrorize him during the night, the sadness of his brother’s eyes, as he looks at him from afar, eyes shining red and spinning unnaturally. Other nights it’s a white-faced man, with snake-like features that hunts him, forcing him to drink potions that taste horrible and burn down his throat, telling him that they will make him stronger. On other nights he dreams of facing gigantic humanoid creatures, dead bodies littering the ground he steps on.

But some nights, he dreams of pink cherry blossom hair and green eyes. The spring girl, as he calls her, cries behind him, begging him not to leave, or stands in front of him as one of his hands reaches for her neck and the other holds lightning, readying to electrocute her, he assumes.

Not every dream is violent with the spring girl, sometimes it’s just him and her. She hugs him or holds his hand as they look over magnificent vistas he’s never actually seen in real life. Sometimes they are children, sometimes they are grown, sometimes he taps his fingers to a strange diamond tattoo on her forehead and she blushes. Sometimes he kisses her and makes love to her. He wakes up to a feeling of sadness and tears rolling down his eyes. He doesn’t know who the girl with the cherry blossom hair is, or why is she a constant in his dreams, but the dreams bring him to tears he’s not one to usually shed. He can never shake the feeling that there is someone out there in the world, waiting for him.

On the day of his annual mental evaluation he is very concerned. He always seems to be expecting something to happen. Someone to attack him or his family. He has so much fear over losing it all, it causes him anxiety and panic attacks in the most unexpected times. He’s afraid the new department psychologist will find out and deemed him unfit for service.

It’s unnerving, feeling this way, because in reality what does he even know about pain? He’s never seen blood; he’s never even had to fire his gun on the job, what could possibly be the explanation for his nightmares? He wonders.

Itachi, who’s on the department of youth and family services, always tells him that is not how mental illnesses work, his anxiety has nothing to do with how good his life is or how lucky he is, and that he should never dismiss his own struggles or be comparing his suffering to others.

Sasuke understands but doesn’t actually believe it.

“I think you should be honest with the psychologist” He tells Sasuke, even if they take you off duty Itachi thinks, but he leaves it unsaid.

“I’m not going to tell her anything she doesn’t ask me… It’s not like having bad dreams makes me unfit for work” Sasuke responds.

“Maybe you should go see my psychic” Izumi chirps in from the doorway to Itachi’s office. “I wasn’t eavesdropping I promise! I was just coming to take my boyfriend out to lunch and I just happen to overhear”

Sasuke only glares at her, he doesn’t like anyone meddling in this, it feels too personal to share with his soon-to-be-but-not-quite-yet-sister-in-law. Itachi gives him an apologetic look on her behalf but says nothing.

“Still those dreams huh? She has really interesting ideas about those! Do you believe in reincarnation?” She asks him.

“That you believe all that craps she sells you, tells me so much, you’re crazy for starters” Sasuke tells her, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“No but hear me out!” Izumi tells him, ignoring his previous comment. “Like, our dreams don’t just make things up, right? You have to have seen those things somewhere, like that girl you keep dreaming about, you met her somewhere, your brain didn’t just invent her, but the circumstances you dream her in don’t match your life, right? Maybe you met in another life! And my psychic can tell you all about that!” she looks in her massive handbag and produces a presentation card that Sasuke takes, out of politeness, but doesn’t bother to look at.

Sasuke doesn’t even believe in that sort of thing, his beliefs always been on the more secular side of things, but even if there is a remote chance he might have lived another life before, where he saw wars, and monsters, and his parents death, he sure as hell doesn’t want to know about it.

So, he goes about his day, entirely forgetting the non-sense Izumi was blabbing on about. He goes to lunch with Naruto, ramen again unsurprisingly, makes a visit to a home for a noise complaint, files his paperwork, and tries to go home early for a change.

He attempted to postpone his psych evaluation as much as he could, that is, until his father, the head of the police department catches him on his way out, and orders him to medical immediately so he can get it over with.

“Go on, you know its protocol, she’s there now” His father chastises.

Sasuke is irritated to no end, but he still obediently makes his way to the new psychologist’s office in the back of the building.

Just keep it simple, don’t elaborate, it’ll be fine, he thinks to himself.

The door to the psychologist’s office is open, so Sasuke stands in the entrance and knocks on the door to announce his arrival. The space is completely littered with boxes and mountains of papers, stacked on top of another and covering the desk in its entirety, so much so that he can’t even see the person seating behind it.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m new, I’m still getting everything settled! Are you here for an eval? Did I get your file? Where are my files!? What’s your name?” She says in a rapid succession.

He stays quiet, so she can gather herself, and takes a seat in front of her crowded desk, and it isn’t until she moves the two gigantic boxes of documents in front of them that he is able to see her.

He sits complete frozen, utterly speechless upon setting eyes on her. Because the person seating in front of him now, is unbelievably and irrevocably the Spring girl.

The shiny pink hair, wide emerald colored eyes and a blushing face he’d never mistake for anyone else’s are facing him now, with a look of surprise on it.

And he is sure his face mirrors hers, especially since the next thing she says to him, is an almost whispered, “Sasuke-kun….”

“I can’t believe this…” She mumbles and looks like she’s about to jump on him, but the look on his face stops her. “Do you… am… do you know who I am?” She asks, a hint of hope sparkling in her eyes.

“The new psychologist… about to perform my yearly eval?…” He responds, unsure of himself.

He can see the deflated expression and disappointment spreading thought her. “Right… I haven’t seen your file… ahem sorry… I think we are going to have to postpone this… maybe someone else can do your evaluations tomorrow, I apologize” She tells him, in a more composed and professional tone.

She stands and grabs a small purse from one of the drawers and tries to make a quick exit.

Sasuke stares at her unable to say anything. He observes every detail he can about her, every slender curve of her body, the way her neat short hair hangs on her delicate neck, and he is suddenly overcome with the image of her, wearing a red tunic instead of the sensible suit, a red and white fan crest in the center of her back.

His hand moves almost of its own accord and grabs her tiny wrist to prevent her from leaving, and she turns to look at him, green eyes wide and full of emotions he’s not able to understand.

“I know you from somewhere” He says, in a statement not a question.

“Do you?  I don’t think so, sorry” She responds and tries to shake his hold on her wrist.

“You said you hadn’t seen my file; how did you know my name?” Sasuke asks her, in the demanding voice she remembers so well.

“I… just… ahem… I don’t….”

“What are you hiding?”

“Do you remember something… anything… about me?” She asks, the adorable blush from earlier spreading through her face again.

Sasuke isn’t sure what she means, but now that she’s facing him, he becomes completely lost in her eyes, his instincts screaming at him to hold her, and never let go. “Who are you?” He asks. Because saying, yeah, I remember you from a dream sounds entirely too stupid to mention.

The moment feels as if suspended from time, the atmosphere too suffocating, he’s afraid of even closing his eyes, sure that the moment he reopens them, she’d be gone like every dream he’s ever had.

“My name is Sakura” she says, and her name sounds like music to his ears. “This is going to sound really strange, and possibly unprofessional, but do you want to go get a drink?” She says, biting her lower lip and taking a strand of hair behind her ear nervously.

He only nods his head yes and releases her hand. “Just… how do I know you?” He whispers.

She giggles in response, her face more assertive than before. “It’s a long story Sasuke-kun… maybe… I’ll tell you later” She says, poking his forehead with two fingers before grabbing his hand and pulling him to follow.

He doesn’t know anything about the strange girl with the cherry blossom pink hair other than her name, still he would follow her anywhere. He can’t help but to feel his blessings are finally complete.

[cruelduarte]

Pregnant Jurdan, part 1

Part 2

Being High Queen means always being busy. Always being busy means a lot of the time I have no idea what day it is or how much time is really passing.

It isn’t until I’m sitting in the brugh during a revel that I notice a full moon in a sky. Something about this seems significant to me, and I force myself to think as hard as possible.

And then I realize.

I’m late.

I can already feel my heart pounding loudly in my chest.

Turning to Cardan, trying to seem as calm as possible, I say, “I’m going to turn in early. Enjoy yourself.”

I don’t give him much time to respond before I’m taking my personal guard back to our chambers. If anyone notices something off about my mood, they don’t mention it.

I’m slamming my door and pacing the parlor before my mind can come to any decision. I’m positive I’m late because the last time I remember bleeding was two full moons ago.

Suddenly I feel dizzy.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” I try telling myself. “Stress can make things irregular.” Even though the last time I was irregular was when I was 14. I know that this isn’t merely a missed cycle.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I crack the door open and call Fand over. I keep my voice steady but quiet while I say, “Please send a healer. And be as discreet as possible.” Without waiting for questions I’m back in the parlor.

I’m already coming up with plans in my head. If I am... pregnant then it’s not the end of the world. I’ve been queen for almost eight years now. Cardan has briefly mentioned wanting children with me.

I’m most scared for myself. Which already gives me evidence that I’d be a terrible mother. I was raised with too much hate and destruction to ever be a good mom. But now it seems I won’t have a choice. I don’t know what to do to ensure I don’t screw a baby up like I’ve been screwed up.

A light knock comes at the door, and when I give the okay an imp hobbles in. She reminds me of Tatterfell, but with a face that seems less kind. Perhaps I’m just used to Tatterfell’s fondness.

“Your majesty,” the imp says to me, bowing her head. I’m too panicked to get annoyed that she doesn’t kneel. It will take far longer than eight years for a kingdom of immortal beings to accept a mortal as their ruler.

That seems like a small worry now.

“You’re a healer?”

All she does is nod.

“If anything we discuss in here tonight leaves your mouth outside this room I’ll have your tongue cut out, and I’ll throw you up into the Tower of Forgetting.” When she looks slightly alarmed I continue. “I have a suspicious I might be with child. What can you do for me?”

“May I touch you, my lady?”

I don’t particularly want her to, but I give a stiff nod. She motions to my body, and then I understand she means to touch my skin. My stomach. I don’t care much for modesty at the moment, so I strip out of my dress so all I’m in is my mortal undergarments. At least they’re not polka-dotted.

She approaches slowly, and then places one of her gnarled hands on my stomach. It’s cold and not soft, but I say nothing. She can probably hear how fast my heart is beating. I definitely can.

Minutes pass, and she moves her palm several places around my stomach. I’m getting anxious. I know getting mad will do me no good, but it feels like a can of soda that’s been shaken. Too much is going on inside of my head.

The imp clears her throat and steps back respectfully. “You are with child, my lady. In fact, I believe you are with two children.”

And then the world goes dark.

———————————————————————

When I wake, I am in my bed. A damp cloth has been placed across my forehead, and I can feel someone holding my hand. I already have a sneaking suspicion who this someone is.

I turn my head to the side to see Cardan sitting in a chair at the edge of the bed, forehead resting on his forearm. He’s still in the clothes he was wearing at the revel. He must’ve been called when I passed out.

The anxiety is still there, but I’ve built a wall around it. I can’t let it all flow out yet. I need to be smart about how I handle this situation. I need to treat it like every other obstacle I’ve ever approached.

Minus the murder. But that’s what Cardan is here for.

“Cardan,” I whisper, squeezing the hand he’s holding mine with.

He immediately stirs, a sleepy smile on his face when he sees me. And then is immediately replaced with a look of concern. “Jude. What happened? All I was told is you asked for a healer, and then you fainted. She wouldn’t tell me anything else.”

His worry over me makes me feel guilty even though there was nothing I could do about passing out. I was a slave to my body’s whims. But I need to tell him. I’ve learned from my mistakes in the past of keeping things from him. He doesn’t appreciate it, and it only leads to problems between us. We don’t need anymore of those than we already have.

I squeeze his hand again and motion for him to come onto the bed with me. “I’m okay.” Not a complete lie. I’m not dying. “But I have some news.”

His large black eyes feel like an unescapable tornado. I’m being sucked in. Before I can think of a good way to explain, I’m saying, “I’m pregnant. With twins.” Maybe that is the only way to explain it actually.

He sucks in a breath which does nothing to ease my anxiety. “Are you lying?”

That’s offensive. “What? No, of course not why would I lie about this?”

“I’m sorry, I know, I’m just...” Seeing Cardan at a loss for words is half exciting and half terrifying. A smile breaks across his face. His perfect face. “Jude!” He’s laughing now. I wonder if fae are able to become psychotic. Or more psychotic than normal. “That’s amazing! Wait, twins? I’ve never heard of Faerie twins. Are you sure?”

I’ve never heard of it either, but I doubt there have been many twin mortal consorts to begin with. “Unless imps have learned to lie, we are having twins.” Saying it out loud just makes my head spin more. Two of them?

He grabs my face and slams his mouth against mine. It’s quick, but it translates all the excitement he’s feeling. “This is wonderful,” he says breathlessly.

His happiness is infectious. I wouldn’t say he’s unhappy most of the time, but I’ve never seen him like this. Right now I’m looking at the person he would’ve been without the horrors of his past. A person full of light and love for everything. I hope he can pass it on to our kids.

“You think we can do this?” I ask. I’m skeptical, but I remind myself we have more than enough help should we need it. And Taryn has been doing it for almost eight years. She was always the more adaptable type, but I have to figure that child rearing can be no more difficult than kingdom building. I hope.

Cardan gives me a soft look. He’s smiling, but I can tell he sees my worries. “Yes, Jude,” he says sincerely. “Our pasts don’t make us unfit to love. They show us why it’s so important to be good. And we will be good parents. Better than either of us ever had.” He kisses my forehead. “We have each other.”

He can’t lie so he must believe these things are true. It does make me feel better. He’s already proving that he’s more cut out for this than I am. Too bad I’m the one who will provide housing for the next nine months.

I pull him closer so that both our heads are on one pillow, and his head is in the crook of my neck. He lazily runs his fingers up and down my arm while he verbally daydreams about what parenthood will look like. He talks of reading faerietales to our children at night before bed. He talks of showing our kids all the different kingdoms of Faerie. He talks of loving them unconditionally, no matter what happens.

He talks until I fall asleep, dreaming of tiny feet and pointed ears.

———————————————————————

@gloriouspalacebakerylawyer @bookwyrminspiration @fallingstarsandeagles

I tagged those that requested this prompt! If this does well I’ll post part 2! It’ll include cute moments of Cardan helping out a difficult pregnant Jude and announcing it to the kingdom probably! Hope you guys liked this!

[batskulldrag]

Phoenix by Fallout Boy

here’s chapter fourteen, sorry for dropping off the grid

Trigger warnings for anxiety attacks and panic attacks. As well as abuse mentions

Also innacurate representation of a court of law. I pieced this together from all my research. But it’s probably wrong

Chapter Fourteen: Burn from the Hamilton soundtrack

 Patton buttoned the last button on his suit jacket. The deafening silence was not helping his nerves. He glanced over to Logan who was pacing dazedly from one side of their room to the other.  

“I haven’t worn this since my last job interview.” Patton added to the void. “I’m surprised it still fits. I’ve had a lot of cookies since then.”

“What?” Logan stopped walking and looked over as if he had been snapped out of a trance.

“I was just trying to joke.” Patton dismissed it. “Are you ok?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re stimming.”

“My pacing has nothing to do with Asperger’s.” Logan said quickly and unconvincingly.

“I’m scared too.” Patton looked at his shoes. “Not only does Payton have a lawyer, but he is one!”

“So? He can’t alter reality.” Logan shrugged. “And we have all the evidence. We can stop him from so much as looking at a picture of Virgil ever again.”

“I guess.”

“And I know.” Logan walked over and untied Patton’s tie. “Who taught you how to tie a tie?”

“I never learned how. I was busy and my hands were tied.” Patton smiled.

“I’ll let you have that one.” Logan sighed, retying the tie.

They were interrupted by Virgil screaming. They both sprinted over to him, and Patton burst inside.

Virgil was on the floor beside his bed staring at his arms in horror. Both arms, his face and neck were pink and covered with hives.

“I’ve been nuked!” Virgil yelled in dismay.

“It’s ok.” Patton said more out of instinct than optimism as he ran to Virgil’s side. “It’s probably nothing.”

“Virgil, do the hives itch?” Logan asked, kneeling across from him.

“Yeah?” Virgil replied, confused. “What are they? Am I gonna die?”

“If I had to guess I’d say they were stress induced.” Logan felt his forehead.

“I can’t show up to court looking like this!” Virgil gestured at himself. “They’ll assume stuff!”

“What will they assume?” Logan asked seriously.

“I don’t know! They’ll assume that I’m too stressed out here or something.”

“It’s ok sweetie.” Patton cooed, stroking his hair. “They’re not gonna jump to conclusions.”

“He’s right.” Logan continued. “The only assumption they are going to make is that a young man, who was diagnosed with severe anxiety, is having a reaction to the stress involved in testifying in court.”

“How can you be so sure?” Patton could feel Virgil’s heart pounding.

“I can’t. And I’m not asking you to trust the court, I’m asking you to trust us. We’re not going to let Payton get his hands on you ever again.”

“Sure, but there are limits to what you can actually do about this.” Virgil’s breaths started getting shorter.  

“And everything is in our favor.”

“He’s going to deny everything, he’s going to lie about you! He’s not just going to let this slide!”

“I know.” Logan pushed Virgil’s bangs back. “But he’s already been outed as a liar. And no one is going to believe his hearsay arguments so easily. Maybe people are inclined to believe the adult, but nobody believes the liar.”

“But we don’t know what he has up his sleeves.”

“Prison tattoos probably.” Patton chimed in bitterly.

“Payton had better have the infinity gauntlet under there if he wants to win.” Roman said from the doorway.

“How long have you been there?” Logan turned around suddenly

“I heard Virgil scream too.” Roman rolled his eyes. “I just didn’t have anything to add until now.”

“We’re going to find out that you’re just a ghost that haunts this place, aren’t we?” Virgil added.

“That’s the spirit.” Patton impulsively took the opportunity for a dad joke.

“Virgil.” Roman ignored Patton. “I have plenty of make up if you wish to cover up those irritants.”

“No.” Logan interrupted. “Make up would worsen the irritation.”

“I have baby lotion.” Patton smoothed Virgil’s hair back.

“Why?” Virgil looked dismayed.

                                                               #             #             #

“Boop.” Patton enunciated as he smudged a bit of lotion on Virgil’s nose.

Virgil didn’t seem too impressed with that. He just sighed and looked at his arms.

“Ok, Virgil, drink this and then I’ll give you one of your pills.” Logan added, placing a mug of warm milk in front of him.

“What’s this supposed to do?” Virgil asked skeptically.

“It’s supposed to settle your stomach and relax you.” Logan felt his forehead. “Given your history of throwing up when you’re stressed, I don’t want you eating anything heavy. But you shouldn’t be taking your tranquilizers on an empty stomach. And milk, especially warm milk is known to have calming properties.”

“Do you think I need one of the sedatives?” Virgil added, taking a sip of the milk.

“You did kinda break out because of stress, Kiddo.” Patton set the lotion down. “And you’re doing a pretty scary thing today.”

Virgil rested his head on the table and Patton started petting his hair.

“You can still change your mind at any time.” Logan added, putting a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I can’t just duck out at the last minute.” Virgil mumbled.

“Quack.” Patton added, looking down at his anxious little baby hopefully.

Virgil didn’t even crack a smile.

“I’m gonna do this even if it’s the last thing I ever do.” Virgil sat up with determination.

“Ok.” Patton wrapped his arms around him. “But you don’t have to. Ok? You don’t need to do anything that will make you uncomfortable.”

“I know.”

“Do you wanna take your bear with you? Or your hoodie? You know, to make you more comfortable.”

“I don’t need a security blanket.” Virgil looked disgusted at the thought. “Can you imagine? If Payton saw me walk up to the stand with a fricking teddy bear, he’d drop his bullshit and start reaming me out right there. I don’t wanna see that.”

“He’d lose the case in an instant though.” Roman added. “It is normally considered bad form to abuse your child in the middle of a custody battle.”

“That’s a valid point.” Logan somehow agreed with Roman. “Payton is completely incapable of hurting you anymore. His hands are tied.”

“Metaphorically?” Virgil looked up at him.

“No, they had him in hand cuffs last time I saw him.”

Virgil laughed at the idea.

“Ok, Kiddo.” Patton kissed him on the forehead. “You go get dressed. And I promise that everything is gonna be ok from now on.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I just can.”

                                                               #             #             #

The courtroom looked exactly like every court room from TV. Patton looked into the gallery and saw several strangers. Roman veered off from them and sat in the gallery as well. He shot them a thumbs up.

“Why are there a bunch of people here?” He quickly whispered to Logan as they sat down at their weird table.

“Most trials are open to the public.” Logan explained. “People can just walk in and sit down.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

“I don’t know. Trials are open to the public barring a specific order from the judge. It’s in accordance with the sixth amendment, a fair and public trial.”

“I don’t know any of those words.” Virgil shuddered from between them.

Logan silently checked Virgil’s pulse and felt his forehead.

“Am I gonna live?” Virgil said flatly.

“Very funny.” Logan sighed. “In half an hour you can have another pill. If you feel like you’re going to have an attack tell one of us.”

“And if you feel like you need to take a break, just say so and we’ll tell the judge.” Patton rubbed his shoulder.

“And deny the spectators such an epic show?” Virgil sneered.

“Never mind them.” Patton shushed.

Virgil dropped his annoyed expression and stared across the room in numb horror. Despite his rash his face went pale and he started panting and wheezing.

“He’s here.” Virgil squeaked.

“Shh,” Patton wrapped himself around Virgil like a shield, making sure to block his line of sight. “It’s ok, he can’t hurt you. Don’t look at him. Just don’t look. He can’t do anything.”

Logan made eye contact with Payton and stared back at him with a blank face. Payton’s empty eyes were no match for the cold stoicism that Logan wore so well. This mere lawyer had no clue how to intimidate him, nor anyone else that realized that he had no power over them. Payton didn’t look away though, he had a lot of arrogance for a man with no real control, no real power, no permanent impact. Foolish sociopath.

“All arise.” The bailiff ended their staring contest. “The honorable Jack Douglass Presiding.”

Patton continued to insinuate himself between Payton and Virgil as they all stood to attention. Familial attachment was flaking off of his conscience like an old sunburn. The idea that Payton didn’t want to be his friend started to harden him rather than hurt anymore. All that he really felt was the determination to make sure that no one threatened his baby ever again. And if Payton thought he was going to sit over there and shoot death glares at an innocent kid, then he needed to get used to disappointment and fast.

“Thank you, bailiff.” The judge snapped him back into the room. “You may be seated.”

The crowd sat down on command. It was kind of impressive.

“Mr. Pent.” The Judge looked at Janus “Yesterday I asked you if you were really going through with this. I’m going to ask again.”

“The defendant is insistent on having this out in court your honor.” Janus answered professionally.

“Is this correct?” The judge looked at Payton and his lawyer.

“It is your honor.” The lawyer answered.

“Alright,” The judge replied. “Proceed with your case. Why do believe Mr. Foster to be an unfit parent?”

“We have documented evidence of both physical and emotional abuse as well as neglect.” Janus pulled out a folder.

“Interesting.” The judge looked at Payton. “Mr. Foster, how do you respond to these allegations?”

“The claims against me are completely fabricated.” Payton said coldly. “I have never laid a hand on my son, nor have I abused him emotionally.”

“Why would your brother make up something like this?” The judge countered.

“I assure you. I have no idea.”

“Let’s see your evidence.” The judge, his honor? Turned back to them.

“I have with me a portion of the fire chief’s report from Mr. Foster’s home.” Janus read. “It states that Virgil’s bedroom had no door, which caused the fire to spread to his room much quicker than normal, and that his window was nailed shut.”

“Mr. Pent,” His honor looked annoyed. “Do you have children?”

“I do not your honor.”

“Did you have a window when you were a teenager?”

“Yes, your honor.” Janus was somehow playing this straight.

“Mr. Foster,” His honor turned to him.

“Yes sir, I mean your honor?”

“Since staying with you, has Virgil had access to a functional window?”

“Yes, your honor.” Patton shook, he had no idea what was happening.

“How about a door, does he have a door?”

“Yes. Your honor.”

“Mr. Pent, how about you? Did you have a door when you were a teenager?”

“Yes, your honor.”

“Mr. Foster,” The judge turned. “When you were Virgil’s age, did you have a functional window?”

“Yes, your honor.” Payton seemed confused as well.

“How about a door?”

“Yes, your honor.”

“Why is it that your son has neither of those things?”

“Virgil was in the habit of bringing friends over uninvited and sneaking out at night, I removed the door and sealed the window to prevent this.”

None of the three had it in them to be surprised by this anymore. They barely had it in them to be disappointed.

“Firstly, taking off the door won’t prevent any of that.” His honor retorted. “Secondly, he nearly died in a fire because you nailed his window shut. You’re either abusive or stupid.”

“Your honor.” Payton’s lawyer added. “Neither of these examples indicate abuse, making the evidence irrelevant.”

“That is fair, he could just be stupid.” His honor nodded. “Unfortunately, that kind of ignorant endangerment is still grounds to call him an unfit parent.”  

Patton saw Payton’s eye twitch, it must have been killing him that his current defense was ‘please, I’m very stupid’.

“Mr. Pent,” Judge Douglass turned to Janus “Give me something more relevant to your case.”

“Here we have documented images of the bruises Virgil sustained, and several hospital records detailing various injuries.” Janus held out the folder and the bailiff took it to the judge.

The judge looked over the documents quietly and stoically.

“Virgil,” His honor looked up. “You’re planning to testify as a witness, correct?”

“Yes…Your honor.” Virgil grabbed Patton’s hand.

“Ok, why don’t you come on up?”

“Yes sir. I mean your honor.” Virgil stood up and looked at Patton desperately.

“It’s ok, just don’t look at him.” Patton whispered, rubbing Virgil’s hand.

The bailiff took Virgil up to the box and they swore him in. The poor baby was visibly shaking.

“So, Virgil.” Judge Douglass was surprisingly gentle. “I’m going to start by asking you why your window was nailed shut.”

“Payton, my dad, told me he didn’t trust me to not sneak out.” Virgil said frankly. “So, he nailed the window shut. The door was a different thing entirely.”

“Well, what was the door about?”

“He found a journal that I was keeping for a class when I was about eight.” Virgil tensely rubbed his arm. “And he got mad at me for keeping things from him while also telling my teacher things that were none of their business.”

“If I may, your honor.” Payton’s lawyer added. “This is not relevant, nor does it prove abuse.”

“I disagree,” Janus argued. “It is important we know why Payton felt that there were aspects of their home life that were meant to be hidden.”

“In that case, maybe we should ask what secrets Virgil was willing to share with his teacher and not his father.” Payton’s lawyer countered.

“Absolutely.” Jan agreed. “Virgil, what exactly were you writing about?”

“I was eight.” Virgil looked around uncomfortably. “I mostly just drew pictures. I had maybe two passages about how my dad made fun of me whenever I wet the bed. and the rest was dedicated to talking about the Goosebumps series. I wasn’t allowed to read them, so I always figured that was why Payton was mad at me.”

“Taking the door off is kind of an extreme reaction.” Judge Douglass stated blankly.

“Excuse me, your honor.” Patton added timidly.

“Yes, Mr. Foster?”

“How would Payton know what Virgil was writing about unless he read the journal?”

“We’re just wasting time with this.” Payton interrupted. “Nothing I’ve been accused of so far is child abuse, in fact I admitted to removing the door. Because Virgil and I were having some trust issues, with just cause. And none of that is illegal.”

Payton made direct eye contact with Virgil while he was talking, and much to everyone’s surprise Virgil stared right back at him.

“Alright.” His honor stared at all of them. “Let’s move on to the allegations of physical abuse.”

Virgil bit his nails and pulled at his tie.

“Let’s start with how Virgil managed to get a perfect belt buckle mark on his back.” His honor’s eyes scalded anyone who looked directly into them.

“A question I have been wanting answers to as well.” Payton glared at Virgil.

“You mean to tell me that you don’t know how that got there?” His honor almost seemed to laugh at Payton.

“I can only speculate that Virgil bruised himself to frame me for abuse or that my brother put those marks there to further his own agenda.”

“And what agenda is that?” His honor spat.

“Since last month Patton has started a campaign to discredit me, starting by accusing me of lying about my past. I have no doubt that once he learned my son was in the hospital, he decided that the best way to ruin me was to accuse me of abuse.”

“Why?” The judge asked leadingly.

“I have no idea why. Perhaps because I managed to make something of myself while he’s still living in the house we grew up in.”

“You’re a member of the one profession that everyone hates.” Judge Douglass retorted. “You know what everyone told me about going to law school? They said don’t. As far as I’m concerned you made a mistake by pursuing law. Maybe other people are impressed, but I’m not.”

Payton looked like someone had slapped him.

“And the bruise in question was a month old when Mr. Foster was given physical custody of Virgil.” Janus pointed out. “At that time Virgil had no contact with anyone without his father knowing about it. In fact, by Mr. Foster’s own admittance Virgil had no secrets from him and no way of doing anything without his knowledge.”

“With all due respect, your honor.” Payton’s lawyer commented. “This only clears Mr. Foster from having caused that bruise. Virgil could have very well done it himself or received it at school.”

“Virgil,” The judge went gentle again. “Can you explain how you got this bruise?”

“Don’t bother asking him, we know what he’s going to say.” Payton snapped.

“When I want to hear from you, I’ll call you.” Judge Douglass pointed the little hammer at him. “Virgil, answer whenever you feel ready.”

Virgil looked as if he were about to be hit by a train. He shook his head and blinked repeatedly.

“Payton and I were arguing, and he grabbed one of my belts off a chair or something…” Virgil inhaled sharply through his teeth. “And he hit me with it.”

“Did he do that a lot?”

Virgil gagged and slumped back into his seat, breathing hard.

“May I have some water?” Virgil whispered.

“Of course.” Judge Douglass said gently. “Bailiff, could you bring him some water?”

“Your honor,” Payton interrupted. “With all due respect, you’re not really going to humor him, are you?”

“I’m interested in what you mean by humoring him.” Judge Douglass looked down at him.

“Humoring him in his so called ‘anxiety attacks’. He only uses them as an excuse, and now he’s using it as a pity ploy.”

“I’m really not.” Virgil panted, looking like he was going to faint.

The bailiff brought Virgil a bottle of water. He fumbled opening it. Patton started to stand up only for Logan to pull him back down.

“Are you feeling better?” Judge Douglass addressed Virgil.

Virgil nodded.

“Mr. Foster. The older Mr. Foster.” The judge turned again. “Virgil has been diagnosed with severe anxiety by two doctors and is suspected to have PTSD. The fact that you deny this is concerning.”

“Your honor, this disorder is merely him being overly dramatic.”

“Doctors would disagree.”

“Of course, they would, their entire business is based on humoring these people so they can take advantage. No doctor benefits from Virgil acting his age instead of behaving like a toddler.”

“Virgil.” The judge ignored Payton. “Did your father hit you often?”  

“Not very often.” Virgil inhaled sharply. “Just when he lost his temper. Like if I argued with him or if I got bad grades. He, he, uh. He normally just grabbed my wrists. And kind of, squeezed them really hard. Sometimes he dug his nails in, but he didn’t like to leave marks on a body part that couldn’t be covered up that easy.”

Patton quietly rubbed his own wrist, phantom pains returning.

“Do you have a clear recollection of when the hitting started?”

“Payton started hitting me when I was around ten.” Virgil squeezed the bottle, crackling the plastic. “I don’t really remember why he started. I just remember that he slapped me one time. And then he never stopped.”

“What do you say, Mr. Foster?”

“I maintain my innocence.” Payton said harshly. “Even if you they can prove that Virgil was injured, they cannot prove that I was the one who injured him. Which I was not.”

“Virgil says differently.” The judge countered.

“Virgil is thirteen! He’s a child, and most likely has been coerced into testifying against me.”

“That so?”

“Yes.”

“Really, because so far, he not only says you hit him, but is saying why you thought it was ok to hit him all those times. The only case that is falling apart here is yours.”

A cold silence hung over them.

“Mr. Pent, please continue.” His honor sighed.

“Certainly, your honor.” Janus didn’t blink. “I would like to call the court’s attention an event on the fifteenth of August that led to Virgil being hospitalized. The official claim was that he fell down the stairs, but his injuries suggest repeated blows, inconsistent with a fall. There is also the fact that the defendant claimed at the time that Virgil was morphine intolerant, while recent tests proved that Virgil has no such allergy.”

“Mr. Foster, would you care to explain that?” Judge Douglass asked.

“The official reports say that Virgil fell down the stairs because he fell down the stairs.” Payton insisted. “His doctors didn’t feel the need to interrogate me at the time. Which is telling of this case’s validity.”

“And Virgil,” Judge Douglass asked softly. “What do you say happened?”

Virgil inhaled tensely and closed his eyes quickly. Tears leaked out.

“I got held back in school.” Virgil exhaled. “Payton yelled at me the whole ride home. When we got inside, he slapped me. And… and… he just started hitting me. I don’t remember much, but I do know he threw me down the stairs.”

Virgil wiped away tears with a shaking hand.

“Ok, why don’t you go back and sit with your uncles?” Judge Douglass said gently.

The bailiff brought Virgil back to them and Patton instantly took him into his arms.

“Now, as to Virgil’s supposed morphine allergy?” The judge asked.

“I may have suggested the allergy in error.” Payton said. “I thought he was intolerant because both me and his mother are.”

“Medical records from your family disagree.” Janus argued. “Your mother received a good deal of morphine while she was ill. Patton was on several morphine related opioids after an accident that ruined his teeth. And you yourself received morphine during a surgery. Not only that but, Hazel Drake, Virgil’s mother, has no such allergy listed either. Records also show that Virgil had never been tested for this intolerance prior to his so-called fall down the stairs. So, you would truly have no way of knowing if he had an allergy or not.”

Payton had nothing to say. Patton and Logan breathed a sigh of relief. Virgil looked at them nervously. He was chewing on his sleeve. They each took one of his hands.

“Virgil has also been diagnosed with both severe anxiety and post-traumatic stress disorder since his stay in the hospital.” Janus continued, looking like a cobra about to strike. “So, I would like to call Dr. Emile Picani to the stand.”

Dr. Picani walked professionally to the stand and was sworn in.

“Dr. Picani, what was your diagnosis of Virgil Foster?” Janus asked coolly.

“Virgil is suffering from severe anxiety due to an extremely stressful home life and post-traumatic stress disorder resulting from physical and emotional abuse.” Emile began. “Over the course of our sessions I learned that Virgil had been wetting the bed throughout his entire childhood and up until now.”

Payton scoffed; it was clear that he didn’t think anyone would hear him. But all eyes turned in his direction.

“A very telling sign of emotional abuse.” Emile continued, ignoring Payton. “Virgil also reported daily panic or anxiety attacks, night terrors and a complete loss of appetite. The fact that he hadn’t been eating was obvious when he was admitted because he was roughly twenty pounds underweight.”

“Did Virgil mention any instances of abuse in any session?” Janus led.

“He told me that if he would wet the bed, his father would mock him severely. He also mentioned one instance, which we talked about earlier, when he tried to defend himself to his father and was hit with a belt.”

“Objection, Your Honor.” Payton’s lawyer stood up. “Dr. Picani is only repeating something he heard during this trial. There is no proof that Virgil told him this in therapy.”

“Overruled.” His Honor retorted. “The evidence that Virgil is suffering mentally still remains.”  

“Your Honor.” Payton’s lawyer continued. “Virgil’s bed wetting could be a result of being rehomed after the arrest of his father.”

“We already established that it had been happening for a long time before that.” Janus said smoothly.

Janus moved gracefully, almost as if he was slithering.

“In that case.” Payton’s lawyer argued. “it could be the result of a learning disability or a ploy for attention.”

“Dr. Picani,” Janus looked back to the stand waving a gloved hand. “What such disabilities would cause bed wetting at this late an age?”

Virgil looked down and covered his face with his hands. Patton noticed that his ears were turning red.

“It’s ok, Honey.” Patton whispered, petting him tenderly. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“Any disability that would cause bed wetting for this long would be apparent in other aspects.” Emile answers. “Low functioning autism, severe Down Syndrome or Locked-In Syndrome to name a few. Virgil clearly has none of these. And the bed wetting gets worse when he’s stressed out. I can guarantee that it’s not an attention ploy because prior to receiving therapy Virgil was avoiding fluids altogether so he wouldn’t wet the bed. This led to him being severely dehydrated when he was admitted.”  

“Anything else?” Judge Douglass asked the room.

“Yes, Your Honor.” Payton’s lawyer continued. “Dr. Picani only has Virgil’s word that he had been having panic attacks or anxiety attacks regularly. The same goes with the night terrors.”

“Virgil nearly had a panic attack while he was testifying.” His Honor said deadpan. “And showed clear signs of having an anxiety disorder. As for the night terrors…”

He turned to Patton and Logan.

“Mr. Foster, Mr. Berry, has Virgil had any night terrors since staying with you?”

“Yes, your honor.” Logan nodded calmly. “He has had both night terrors and nightmares almost regularly. Both those and the bed wetting have decreased with anti-anxiety medicine, therapy and a less stressful environment.”

“Objection.” Payton argued. “We only have their word that Virgil has had such episodes. And there is serious doubt as to Mr. Berry’s credibility.”

“Why is that?” The judge asked.

“He is on the Autistic spectrum.”

“Mr. Pent, have you presented all the facts for your case against the defendant?” Judge Douglass looked to Janus.

“I have evidence to suggest neglect.” Janus added, coldly. “But I’ll make it quick.”

“Do it then.”

“Virgil was diagnosed with Strep throat when he was admitted. He had a severe case, due to not seeing a doctor about it. As Virgil’s guardian, Payton Foster would be responsible for taking him to a doctor, but it was revealed that Virgil had dealt with the illness for ten days. Virgil was also twenty pounds underweight. His father would have noticed this but did nothing. We also know that Mr. Foster, the defendant, denied his son pain killers based on an assumption of an allergy that he had never been tested for. There is also Virgil’s window being nailed shut and the fact that Mr. Foster, the defendant, had no smoke detectors in his home. Which led to Virgil’s nearly being killed in a fire. We also established that Virgil had a bedwetting problem that his father never sought medical advice for, and potentially mocked him for. Even if you doubt abuse, you cannot deny that gross negligence was at play.”  

“Alright.” His Honor nodded. “Mr. Foster, you may present your case.”    

[mdnightson]

                                                   BASICS

GIVEN NAME : edward anthony masen, jr CURRENT NAME: edward cullen BIRTH DATE : 20th june , 1897 BIRTH PLACE : chicago , illinois AGE : 21 / 123 SPECIES : vampire OCCUPATION : ‘college student’ - pre-law, composer MORAL ALIGNMENT :  true good

                                                 AFFILIATIONS

COVEN / FAMILY : olympic coven - carlisle cullen ( adoptive father ), esme cullen ( adoptive mother ), rosalie hale ( adoptive sister ), emmett cullen ( adoptive brother ), alice cullen ( adoptive sister ), jasper hale ( adoptive brother ) ROMANTIC TIES:  isabella ‘bella’ swan  OTHER TIES: denali coven, various nomads ENEMIES: newborn army, victoria, the volturi ( loosely ) 

                                  APPEARANCE & SKILLS

HEIGHT: 6′2″ BUILD: lean & muscular - athletic EYE COLOR: black ( when abstaining from blood / underfed ) , golden ( due to ‘vegetarian’ lifestyle ), green in human life HAIR COLOR: brown with russet tones PREFERRED HAND : left hand dominant COMPLEXION : fair & flawlessly clear EDUCATION : various degrees, at least 2 medical degrees ABILITIES: traditional vampiric abilities, improved speed, exceptional self control UNIQUE ABILITIES : telepathy MEDIA INFLUENCES : fitzwilliam darcy, edward rochester, the beast  ( disney’s beauty and the beast ) 

           CHARACTER ALTERATIONS & DIVERGENCES

there will be a significant number of tweaks that are made to edward’s canon due to my belief that they are more consistent with who edward is and should have been . these include , but are not limited to:

edward never tampering with bella’s truck in any way shape or form. bella is entitled to make her own decisions, and while edward does still err on the overcautious & protective side, he would never strip her of her own agency. 

the thinly veiled abstinence plotline does not exist in this world. it’s unhealthy and i don’t agree with it. while edward is traditional in many respects, and definitely more formal than the average 21 year old, he is not waiting for marriage. any hesitance related to intimacy exists purely out of fear of harming bella in the process. kay says let edward be horny in 2020. 

in a similar vein, edward is not pressuring bella to marry him at all. there are no ultimatums in place regarding bella’s potential change. he still wants her to live her human life, and would like to marry her one day, but does not hold those contingencies if she makes the decision to be changed. 

edward did not visit bella’s room without her knowledge beyond  one instance  - we’re not about that in 2020. when he did, it was a moment of panic over her safety ( as described in midnight sun ), and was the instance in which she said his name in her sleep. after that, he attempted to pursue her romantically in a more traditional fashion and did not return to her bedroom until it was with her consent and knowledge. 

he is absolutely still broody and withdrawn, but let’s not pretend he hasn’t had any fun in his whole 100+ years of existence. his family has been his whole life, as well as the friends he has made -- while he has been lonely, he has never been alone. 

he still thinks he doesn’t have a soul, and is filled with a lot of self-loathing, but it’s more closely related with personal hatred and remorse for the lives he has taken than hatred of his species. while he is dubbed as one of the vampires with more self control than others, it is because he is actively fighting what he believes to be a monster inside of him -- he cannot reconcile being both man and monster, and often defers to the latter. 

i guess this isn’t so much of a canon change but ?? edward is wildly insecure and unsure of himself  - - he’s also incredibly anxious. the suave persona we see in the books is just that. really he’s just a mess. 

edward’s ‘gift’ is much less of an asset than it is an incredible annoyance and frustration. he doesn’t take pleasure in eavesdropping on the innermost thoughts of others, and is often overwhelmed by tuning in to the anguish and pain from others. he has spent decades trying to fine-tune this skill and actually uses it as infrequently as possible around strangers, unless he absolutely requires it. his ability to control it is entirely dependent on his emotional state

TBA !

                                                 BACKGROUND

       mentions of childhood illness, anxiety murder, & suicide death below 

i am going to link the WIKI here, as most of edward’s history & personality remains unchanged , but i’ll also be giving a brief overview below, including some additions to his canon. 

20TH JUNE , 1897 - edward  is born the only child to edward and elizabeth masen. he is given all of life’s advantages due to his family’s wealth, but is estranged from his father. he is a rather sullen and often sickly boy - he becomes the center of his mother’s world, and music becomes the center of his. he is able to study with the finest instructors and discovers a virtuosic gift.

edward grows into a ‘fine’ young man, destined for a life just like his father. however, he isn’t like his father. he is sentimental, selfless, and kind where his father is stern, selfish, and withdrawn.  edward is able to bring out a smile in just about anyone, and though his wit is dry , he’s capable of making people laugh. he is a GOOD young man - - everyone says. he is GOOD.

THE GREAT WAR comes to a head, and edward ( driven by a sense of duty and bravery ) attempts to enlist. due to his childhood illnesses and the damage incurred on his lungs, he is deemed unfit for service. soon after, the first wave of the spanish influenza takes the life of his father. soon after, edward and his mother become ill. elizabeth begs the doctor responsible for their care to do what she cannot - save her son . death feels like a welcome friend after the suffering the illness had caused , but it does not come for him. instead, a new , excruciating pain . a rebirth - a living death. 

RESENTMENT - uncontrollable anger, uncontrollable thirst color edward’s first days in his new life. he does not understand the changes that had been thrust upon him. the only constant among the chaos was carlisle. carlisle and his goodness, his unfailing faith. suddenly , edward has a father , and his paramount goal was to make him proud. 

edward spends his days fighting the monster inside of him, riddled with an emptiness he could not name nor control. his talent, as carlisle described it, feels more like a curse than anything. he could read anyone -- understand their deepest most secrets, and yet he could not control or contain his own. his darkness was once again mitigated with a new light in the form of esme. esme, who reminded him so much of his own mother. esme, who had lost her own son & found someone to care for in edward. carlisle & esme and their unfailing goodness were almost too much to bear. he could not disappoint them. rather than subjecting them to emotions he couldn’t understand - he disappears. 

1927 - 1931 : the monster rears its ugly head. edward abandons a humane lifestyle and becomes judge & jury for the living. he kills - - and he kills many . he determines who is worthy of living , and seeks out those that deserve to die (  his first victim is esme’s tormentor , and tens of hundreds of men like him follow ). if he must be a monster , then he will seek out other monsters as well . eventually , his guilt consumes him and he returns , eyes crimson , to carlisle & esme . what he does not expect is their undeserved forgiveness , their unconditional love. he will forever be unworthy of such love , and this thought haunts him . he is a monster , but he must do better - - for them. 

the numbers of the cullen clan grow , and family replaces coven. they fall into a familiar rhythm - settling when they can , moving when they must . edward is grateful to be loved , to be forgiven , but he cannot find his own redemption. whatever heart of him is left goes to them - to his family. he is constant for them alone.  he watches their all-consuming romances blossom throughout time and cannot help but be reminded that he is alone . he fills his days  to the best of his ability , and time passes. 

2017 - the cullens re-settle in forks , washington . edward plays the part of recent high school graduate on a gap year in order to buy the family more time in their place of residence. time passes.

MARCH , 2018 a frozen life jumpstarts when isabella swan moves to forks. try as he might to protect her from himself , he is drawn to her. to her goodness , her intelligence , and her clumsiness. this , he realizes , must be what his family had found - - an inexplicable drawing near , the need to be close to someone. if his heart could beat , it would beat for her. 

but life is not that simple . she is fragile , and human , and he puts her at risk by simply being near her . loving her doubles that risk , and yet he does.  fiercely & unconditionally. 

MARCH , 2019  he loves her so much that he thinks it is better to leave her . he cannot see past what he is , and what he is capable of . he will not risk her life . when he thinks she is gone , he risks his . the volturi won’t take the life of a gifted vampire who has committed no crime , so he sets out to do it himself.  she , in all of her goodness , saves him , regardless of whether he is deserving of it .  but it comes at the cost - to save his life , she must sacrifice her own - - she must change. 

PRESENT  for the first time in his immortal existence , edward wants a life , and he wants to live it fully , but he cannot be selfish . he cannot subject bella to a life like his , and he cannot deny her her right to choose.  all he can do is love her with whatever soul he has left to love with , and protect her  ( and his family ) until his last breath . 

[pandawritespoorly]

Heroes Like You

Author’s Note: First things first, that title. I didn't know what to put, so that's what it is. I'm not exactly happy with it.

Secondly, I wrote this very quickly last night because I realized the potential that Miraculous had for discussions on mental health. Then I realized the mess we have instead. This isn't quite what I had initially been thinking of, but it needed to be short, because I had to get to bed. I'll expand on my thoughts at the bottom if you're interested.

I kind of didn't want to post this, which is why it's closer to 'evening' than 'late afternoon'.

Summary: When an akuma attack spawns from a panic attack, the wrong discussion spawns from it, and Marinette can feel the pressure.

Marinette doesn’t want to look at the news. It just makes her feel sick. The last akuma had been a result of someone having a panic attack.

As if panic attacks weren’t already scary enough, now they have the added fear of akumatization tied to them.

Now a bunch of morons are calling for anyone with a mental disorder to either be under surveillance, or shipped out of the city. It’s absolutely ludicrous.

It’s just wrong.

She can’t focus, she can’t think, because some part of her has always thought about this. She’s got an anxiety disorder. Ladybug has an anxiety disorder.

Is she unfit for being a hero? She messed up immediately, and sure, she’s ‘the chosen one’, but Fu couldn’t have known that she was (is) such a mess.

Tikki is looking at her in concern. They’ve already spoken about it, but Marinette can tell she’s about to start again.

She’s not ready for that.

Shaking her head, Marinette transforms.

Ladybug exits the room, heading across the rooftops for a run. She’s done this before when she was feeling upset, but it’s different this time.

It’s more than just something at school, or just teenage life in general. This is a city-wide problem.

She’s not sure if it’s a loud minority that’s coming after disorders, or a loud majority. Her brain tells her it must be a majority, because who would want a hero who can’t even go to school without worrying about-

No no no, that’s not productive.

She can feel herself shaking, which means that she should probably take a break.

If you stop here, people might see you. They’ll see you freaking out and they’ll know they’ll know they’ll know.

Not. Productive.

Ladybug spots the Eiffel Tower, deciding she’ll wait up there. She’ll just sit there until she doesn’t look like a complete wreck.

Easy.

This is fine. Everything’s fine.

She’s not fooled, but does eventually make it to the top without falling off.

Putting her yo-yo away, she takes a moment to properly assess herself. Her hands are shaking like a broken mixer. It’s pretty bad, she’s usually not this visible about it.

Oh Kwami, if she’s shaking this bad, maybe someone saw.

Not to mention that she’s borderline hyperventilating, which probably wasn’t helped by not taking a break, and then just scaling the Eiffel Tower.

This is a terrible time for her to freak out. She’s not fit to be a hero. All of those people are right. She shouldn’t-

“Hey, LB!”

Chat’s cheerful voice breaks through her thoughts. She looks up at him, meeting his eyes. Ladybug can tell the moment he properly takes her in.

Oh great, someone’s seen now, he’ll be so disgusted. She just wanted to be a hero so badly that she couldn’t just let someone more stable do it.

“Ladybug?” Chat sits down, scootching a little closer and reaching towards her gently, “What’s wrong? You’re crying.”

Oh. She is.

Wiping her face with the heel of her hand, she manages shakily, “‘t’s nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

“It must if you’re so upset.”

He really is a sweetheart. She gives him a soft smile and takes a minute to get some control over her breathing again.

She’s still shaking, but it’s not as bad.

“Have you seen the news? From the last akuma?”

He nods, and waits for her to continue.

“I… I have an anxiety disorder,” her voice breaks slightly, “A- a lot of what they’re saying… it’s just- I’ve never been able to shake the- the feeling that I’m not fit for this, and all of that is…” she trails off, knowing he’ll understand.

She braces for his confirmation. That she’s a fraud. A mess that shouldn’t be playing hero, when she’s just a girl with a stupid broken mind that can’t go a day without freaking out about something stupid.

“Bug…” he whispers. She turns to see him, tears visible in his eyes, holding his arms out in offer of a hug.

A sob escapes her as she accepts it. He wraps his arms around her, holding her comfortingly.

“You know all of those people are idiots, right? They’re just a bunch of discriminatory jerks using this as an excuse to drum up fear. You’re the best hero Paris could ask for.”

She laughs, “S-second best. Can’t forget about you.”

“I guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree then.”

They hug in silence for a moment longer before Ladybug speaks again, “We should do something. We’re the official sources of all things akuma after all.”

The two break apart, but Chat keeps an arm on her back and she leans against his shoulder.

“What did you have in mind? We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“Well…”

 ---

 “Hey, Ladybloggers! Alya here! Today we’ve got a special treat, both heroes are here to speak with us! Say hello to Chat Noir and Ladybug!” Alya sits across from the camera as she gestures at the two.

They wave.

“So, what brings you here?”

“We’d like to clear up some misconceptions,” Chat begins.

Ladybug nods, “I’m sure everyone one is aware of the ‘debate’ that sparked from the most recent akuma in regards to mental illness.”

Alya wrinkles her nose, “Unfortunately, yes.”

“Well, we’d like to state it clearly that anyone with any sort of mental illness is not at all more of a threat to the city than anyone else. Threatening and attacking them is only making Hawkmoth’s job easier. This shouldn’t even be a debate.”

Chat continues, “It’s pretty easy to see that this environment that has taken root in Paris is only going to make akumatizations more likely. No one is doing anyone any favors by wrongfully coming after them for something they aren’t at fault for.”

Alya smiles, “Glad to see you two have some sense. I personally have been disgusted by the insanity that’s been going on. Thank you for giving your input, I hope that’ll be enough to get people to see sense.”

“Well,” Ladybug interjects, “There’s one more thing I’d like to say before we head out.”

Chat grips her hand comfortingly, a silent show of support.

Alya nods, “Of course, go ahead.”

“I know it must be easy to make the assumption that someone with a mental health disorder is automatically at a higher risk of akumatization. This couldn’t be more wrong. Akumatization isn’t anyone’s fault but Hawkmoth’s.” She looks directly at the camera,” I want all of you out there that are being targeted, that feel unsafe because suddenly you’re being threatened due to something you can’t control, that I’m with you. I have an anxiety disorder. Just looking at the news makes me feel sick, and I’ve had several anxiety attacks since this began. I still haven’t fully calmed down, if we’re being honest. The point is, I, Ladybug, am one of those people that, if the internet is to be believed, should be shipped out of Paris. That couldn’t be more wrong. My mind is a mess, but I am not some sort of risk. I’ll admit I’ve attracted akumas before, but so have many others. If you demonize people just for feeling, you’ll only be playing into Hawkmoth’s hands.”

Alya looks at her for a moment, “Can I hug you?”

Ladybug smiles, hugging the journalist as she and Chat stand to go.

“Thank you,” They all say at once, laughing slightly at their unison.

Ladybug feels a little better.

---

Author’s Note: There you go.

So basically, I was thinking about the fact that the 'villains' are just everyday people that got upset. That's it. There's not a bias against them for being upset, and while I'm pretty sure it's because of the mess that is the writing, I just think it could have led to an interesting discussion as Paris worked on moving past the fact that these people caused damage, and instead trying to help them through their issues. Does that make sense? I can expand on that if I need to.

Anyways, then I got myself all worked up and angry because instead of that, or even some other important thought-provoking theme, we've got... whatever you want to call this. Am I bitter about this? What would give you that idea? Whatever would give the impression that I, an author whose most popular work is a Chameleon salt fic, am bitter about the writing of the show?

I'm sure everyone who has been in the fandom for longer than a second can agree that Marinette has anxiety, or has at least seen a fanwork where she does. Guess who else has anxiety? This girl! Yeah, I'm not happy about it either. Going through the majority of my school years with undiagnosed social anxiety was a nightmare, let me tell you.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave any thoughts, theories, constructive criticism, or anything really in my ask box, in replies or through reblogs. I love seeing what you think!

[theveryinsignificantpotato]

The Monster called anxiety

Any doctor x reader (though I imagined 10 when writing it)

Okay, here is the thing, I started writing the request and I am stuck, complete writer's block on my end, but I am working really hard to get everything just perfect for you, you beautiful human, but for now I edited this thing I found in my older oneshot book on Wattpad that never got posted. It's not horrible, but it is not what I wanted for you, so I'm using it to buy me a lil more time while I make yours perfect!

Your request is on the way, I am very sorry for the wait!

...

He said he needed something human, some dna. I had been racking my brain to come up with something, assuming he would need a tangible material, like blood or skin. I had apparently been thinking aloud by mistake, rambling about how we could get a knife or something and I could give him just that, going on and on until he finally shut me up with a kiss. And time seemed to stop around me as I processed the feeling of his lips against mine, my body stiffening in shock.

He pulled away relatively quickly with his signature 'I just had a genius idea' smile beaming at me "That'll do, come on now!" He says with the slight hop he does just before he runs in the opposite direction

I took a dazed step in the direction he ran with a hand to my lips. It was only a moment in my daze before I heard him yell "come on!" From the corridor and I shook my head mumbling a small "right, panic later" and running after him.

--

Overwhelmed, that is what I felt in that moment. Finally back aboard the TARDIS after what was by far the most risky adventure he had ever taken me on. I had almost died at one point, and towards the end there I thought he himself had died. Thoughts flew through my mind as I collapsed on the floor upon entering, what if I had died? Worse yet, what if he did? What if I am unable to do it next time? I can't let the defender of the universe die! What will become of everything?

The doctor enters just after me, furrowing his eyebrows at the sight of my hunched figure "are you alright?"

I glance at him, returning my eyes to the floor "oh yeah, I'm fine." I say rolling onto my back and allowing my anxiety to consume my entire being "I'm just tired is all." I flash the doctor a smile and he nods, not looking fully convinced.

None the less he turns some knobs and presses some buttons around the console, careful not to step on me as I lay in the middle of the floor.

The longer the silence, the more my thoughts deem me unfit to be a companion to the doctor, dreading the future and hating myself with every new situation my brain comes up with. My hands find their way to my face as the TARDIS takes off, pulling my hair on their way.

I try as the doctor told me before; during the event of an anxiety attack, to go back and show myself all the good I've done. I think of today's adventure, trying to see all the times I did good or that the doctor congratulated me with a "nice one, y/n!", Or "That's my girl!" In his excited voice with a proud smile.  I went through all the events of the day until I got to the kiss, where I stopped. Aand, I'm anxious again. What if it's weird now? That was my first, what if it was bad? Oh my God, my crush took my first kiss without knowing I love him, what if it was so bad he would never consider loving me? What if he doesn't want me to be his companion anymore? Oh God, oh fuck, what if things get too awkward and h-

"Y/n" my thoughts are cut off by his voice

I don't move, taking a deep breath to calm myself before I face him. I just wish I could stop bloody thinking! Christ, I'm shaking like I'm cold!

I can sense the doctor crouching over me, and the worry radiating from him. "Y/n, you are shivering and crying, what's wrong?" He asks

I hesitate for a moment before dragging my hands down my face to find my cheeks wet with tears "o-oh, I didn't even realize." I stutter, looking from my now damp hands to the doctor's features, etched with concern "Just anxious, is all. I made a mistake today and if you hadn't been there at that moment I would have screwed everything up. Makes me wonder what I will do in future adventures with you. What if I get you killed?"

He shakes his head "you won't." He says softly "You were brilliant today, too, without you it'd have been a disaster" he adds, offering me a hand.

I let out a sigh, accepting his hand and allowing him to pull me to my feet. He guides me to a sit by him on the floor by the console, our feet dangling over the lower level from the slight ledge. He sit for a moment in the quiet, each of us in our own heads before I finally speak up "I wish I could just stop thinking." I admit suddenly, causing the doctor to look at me

"Why is that? You're brilliant, it'd be a shame for that to end." He says

"It's not that, it's my thought processes, it's the anxiety. One thought, one screw up and then I'm on to the next in my mind before I see any good. I'm a little slow today, who's to say tomorrow I won't get someone killed? Every day my anxiety plagues my life like this and I can't get rid of it." I ramble, raking my fingers through my hair "sometimes I wonder if I'm even fit to be your companion, I really truly adore traveling with you, but every day I am just waiting for my next failure, waiting for the moment you finally drop me on Earth for the rest of my pitiful life. Surely it'd be better for you."

The doctor takes a breath "Listen to me, you and I, we fight monsters day in and day out, you and your brilliant mind sometimes even come up with plans to defeat then before I can, and I know what a huge monster anxiety is. The issue with this monster is I can't fix it, all I can do is try to help you. You are so very strong, so very smart, and you know that you are important, don't let it convince you otherwise."  He says, taking my hand and squeezing it lightly

The tears return, and I wipe them with my free hand. I'm so pitiful.

"This, this is why I'm a burden, I'm sitting here crying and making you stay with me when you could be helping someone"

He shakes his head "This is a time machine, y/n, you aren't being a burden. The only burden with your anxiety is that it is hurting the person I care about." He says, wrapping an arm around my shaking frame "come here"

I lean into his embrace, resting my head on his chest and wrapping my arms around his waist. He gently rubs his hand up and down on my shoulder, resting his chin on my head and I take a breath, listening to the beat of his hearts to calm me. "Thank you, Doctor." I say softly after a moment

"Ah, don't mention it." He replies, holding me tighter. I can hear the smile in his voice "Anything you need, love."

I sigh contently, finally feeling the weight of my anxiety leave me here in the doctor's arms. I sniffle a little, removing one of my arms from his waist to wipe the tears away from my cheeks before returning it to hug him tighter.

He gives a short laugh, removing his grip to allow me room to sit up and resume my sitting next to him. I do so, releasing him so I can rub my eyes of the remaining tears before giving him a tired grin. He smiles back "are you alright now?" He asks

I nod "sorry about that, It's been a long day." I say sheepishly

"Ah, we've all been there. No worries!" He says with a small smile "let's go somewhere nice, a lovely place for our next adventure. I know of this planet where in the evenings the sky glows a gorgeous cobalt blue, reflected in the many lakes, shallow like reflection pools, it has more stars surrounding it than any other planet and you can see them in the sky and on the water simultaneously, as if the whole sky is surrounding you, I think you would simply adore it. What do you say?" He rambles for a moment, looking at me with his awe filled eyes as he talks.

I can't help but smile "that sounds lovely." I reply, imagining the scene he described

"Great! I'll set our coordinates to go there now!" He exclaims, beginning to stand when I grab his hand to stop him

"U-uh Doctor, before we do that, I-" I stutter, and he gives me an odd look

"What is it, y/n?"

I avoid his eyes, standing up in front of him "Before we go I need to ask you something, it's about the last adventure, and I know why you did it, I don't need you to explain yourself, but if I don't get this off my chest and ask you I think I'll go mad." I ramble, rubbing my arm and continuing to avoid his confused gaze "B-but it's about that kiss today."

"That was to get a dna sample, it was critical that I had human dna in order to-"

"No, no, I understand that" I interrupt "but ah- it's stupid." I shake my head "T-that was my first kiss, and I get that it was meaningless to you, just part of the mission, but to me it wasn't. And I know it's dumb but I have to say-" I hesitate, taking a breath and attempting to ignore the look on the doctor's face "I think I'm in love with you, doctor" Oh my God that sounds so cheesy out loud I can't help but laugh a little "s-sorry, you probably hear that a lot"

I can't begin to describe the look on his face when I finally looked at him, it was weird like a mix of confused and trying not to laugh. I feel so embarrassed in this moment that I want to die. He didn't say anything at first, just took a step forward and put a hand on my shoulder, looking into my eyes as if searching for something. I couldn't help my slight shaking as I anticipated his next movement, not even remotely expecting him to do as he did.

As I watched his eyes his unreadable expression softened, and his free hand placed itself on my chin to tilt my head up towards him. A small smile played on his lips as he leant down to my level, placing a sweet kiss on my lips. My first instinct was to tense up, but I quickly relaxed, closing my eyes and kissing him back.

This one lasted longer than the first, and it was sweeter. When he finally pulled away I opened my eyes to be greeted with his perfect smile, "alright then! Off we go!" He cheers, running to the console with the same hop in his step.

I was dazed once again, my breath hitching as I watched him "wha- Doctor!" I whine, unable to help the smile creeping at my lips

He looks up at me, his hand on a switch and a brilliant smile on his face "allons-y!" He cheers, flicking the switch to initiate the TARDIS' take off

[almostrealdudes]

Oof I watched sex education twice already, if you could do an otis x reader where maybe they go to the dance together and she confesses her feelings by saying, "I like me better when I'm with you" based on the song by Lauv. Or just anything otis tbh, work your magic 💖💖

first of all, what a great song! Second, I loved this request! I hope you enjoy it as much

warnings: none

word count: 2k (woah)

a/n: also FINE, i’ll start using Y/N in my writing because all this “avoiding the name” thing gets inconvenient, annoying, and gets in the way of the story. Still hate it thou lmao

Requests are open my dudes

Their relationship was complex. They were friends, best friends in fact. They felt nervous standing next to each other and sometimes when their hands touched by accident it would throw them off their rhythm. But they weren’t dating, no. Why would you think that? They’re friends. Best friends. Why would best friends date? It’s not like they have feelings for each other. No, they most certainly don’t. They’re friends.

Best friends.

“I hear you, Otis,” Y/N said suavely, rolling her eyes.

“Hear me or listen to me?” Otis specified, looking after her shoulder.

“Somewhere in between,” a smirk sneaked onto her face. She put her hands on the straps of her backpack for additional support.

“I’m just saying,” he gained a little speed and overtook her, “you should try for that college. We only live once and you most certainly have all the requirements.”

“And I’m just saying,” Y/N stopped in the hallway and turned on her heels to face Otis, “I don’t think I’m good enough to actually apply.”

“Hey dipshits,” a familiar voice rang out from across the whole, revealed to be Maeve who, along with Eric, was approaching the two of them. Otis gave Maeve and Eric a subtle wave in return as they came up. Maeve glanced the poster from across the room and wiggled her eyebrows.

“So?”

“What?” Y/N tilted her head in confusion.

“The dance!” Eric threw his hands up, putting a gestural emphasis on the word. “We’re going. Are you going?”

“To be miserable and alone? That would be an unnecessary thing to do,” Otis stated. Y/N shook her head submissively, agreeing with his point.

“Oh my god,” Eric opened his mouth and looked the pair up and down in utter shock. “They’re not serious,” his face slowly turned towards Maeve while his eyes rested on Otis and Y/N for the last moment before switching to Maeve completely. “Are they serious?”

“At this point, I’m not even surprised anymore,” Maeve crossed her hands, skeptically eyeing the pair in front of her.

“Guys,” Otis raised his hand in an attempt to draw attention, “are you interested in sharing, whatever it is that you’re discussing, with us?”

“Okay, let’s try this again.  Hey, Otis, hey Y/N. So, dance, huh?” Eric gestured to them, inducing to give an answer.

“I am so confused right now,” Y/N said, furrowing her eyebrows and watching as Eric covered his face with his palm in disappointment.

“We have to do everything for you, don’t we? Hi Eric, hi Maeve, yeah, we sure are going to the dance thank you for asking!” Eric mimicked.

“Oh. Oh, no,” Otis shared an embarrassed startled look with Y/N and started viciously shaking his head in denial, ‘why—why would we go? We’re—we’re not to—together or anything.”

“Yeah,” Y/N picked up, feeling her cheeks getting flaming hot, “it’s not—it’s not like that.”

“Bloody hell,” Maeve interrupted, “I’ve got places to be. Go. To the dance.”

She huffed and walked straight in between Otis and Y/N, pushing them apart. Eric, nodding, with a what she said look on his face, fixed his backpack and repeated Maeve’s actions, disappearing into the hallway, leaving two his red-faced embarrassed friends all by themselves.

“I mean,” Y/N said quietly, refusing to look up, “it’s whatever, right? We could go. Just cause.”

“Y—yeah,” Otis shrugged his shoulders, desperately trying to act casual, “I mean, yeah. We could go. Like a—a power friend couple.”

“Like a power friend couple,” she echoed, raising her gaze to be met with Otis’s and to synchronously look away again, already got cheeks feeling even hotter.

***

“Like a power friend couple? Otis, what is wrong with you, mate?”

Eric was sitting on Otis’s bed as the latter walked in circles around his room, fiddling with his fingers. He did invite Y/N, yes. Although, he didn’t exactly do it with the right message attached.

“Hey, I had to say something, okay? I couldn’t just invite her to the dance out of the blue with no context. Besides, “Otis stopped and raised his hands, “she agreed with me!”

Eric rolled his eyes and let out a tired sigh.

“Otis, Y/N likes you so much she’ll say yes to literally every single thing you say.”

Otis’s face curled into a weird impression as he theatrically shook Eric off, his voice raising a few octaves.

“What? No, Y/N doesn’t like me.”

“Otis, I see you do your sex therapy thing, where you say things that no person your age should ever even be familiar with, and then you say things that make me think like you have an alter ego, and that every time a discussion like this happens, the smart Otis leaves your body for the stupid alter-ego Otis to take his place and say some bullshit like Y/N doesn’t like me.”

“Thank you for this unnecessary long hyperbolized remark,” Otis uttered.

He walked up to his bed and flopped onto it, covering his face in his hands. Of course he liked Y/N. So much. He couldn’t lie to himself no matter how hard he would’ve tried. One Y/N’s breath in his direction was enough to send him to the moon, his mind into a haze and his heart into a fit of insanity. Not mentioning what accident touches did to his crotch.

But they were friends, close friends, for a long time. They were there for each other during the toughest times. They supported each other. They shared secrets, fears, and hopes. They trusted each other. All of this could be easily ruined with one unfitting ‘I like you.’ And although people say that there is a chance for recovery after a phrase like this in case of a failure, they unlikely know what they are talking about. Because to speak to a person who you know likes you and to not like him in return or, what is worse, to speak to a person you like who you know doesn’t like you back – is a devastating feeling. And Otis wasn’t sure if he was capable of taking that risk.

“I just,” he mumbled into his hands, “I don’t want to mess it up.”

“To mess what up?” Eric sat closer to Otis, watching him rub his face in frustration.

“Everything! The relationship, our bond. The last thing I would want is to make it awkward between us.”

Otis sat up sharply, studying his knees. Numerous thoughts were flashing through his head: all the possible ways of him confessing or trying to confess his feelings to Y/N and all the possible terrible outcomes of it. Actually, he saw no positive outcomes whatsoever. They all were just a compilation of her looking at him awkwardly, not knowing what to say, and even thinking about it was turning Otis inside out.

“There is zero chance Y/N doesn’t like you back,” Eric said, looking at him reassuringly.

“It’s just all I see is her smiling apologetically at me while years of our friendship come crumbling down.”

“Listen,” Eric put a hand on Otis’s shoulder and looked him sincerely in the eyes, “it’s better to regret something you did than to regret something you didn’t do.”

Otis returned Eric’s look and rubbed his thighs anxiously. Eric was right. It was all or nothing.

***

The dancehall was filled talking and laughing teenagers. They wandered around, gathered in groups, waved at each other, screamed, squealed, jumped, and hugged. The room was charged with festive energy and adolescent mischief. It was a mix of glossed lips, gelled haircuts, perfumes, and ruffles.

Otis and Y/N stood aside, against the wall, holding cups of punch as the students danced to the light pop music tunes. Y/N was staring down into the insides of her cup, feeling the weight of anxiety pressing down on her. Otis’s lips were pressed into a thin line.

“I don’t recognize a third of all these people,” she said with a little smirk, wishing to lighten up to mood.

“Well, it’s a great party opportunity,” Otis chuckled.

“Right, you should know all about those, party animal, “Y/N jokingly pushed Otis’s shoulder. He smiled shyly, gradually relaxing to the conversation.

“Hey, what do you know? Maybe I live a second secret life of the party.”

She laughed out loud, causing Otis to laugh in return. Y/N shook her head in disbelief, while Otis nodded rapidly, disagreeing with her silently.

“Sure, I can totally see you,” Y/N pointed her finger at his chest, “with glow sticks and all that. Crazy.”

“Stop judging my wild lifestyle and drink your punch, smartass.”

“I actually don’t even know why I have it, I don’t drink,” she looked at her cup in confusion.

“Me neither.”

Sharing a glance, they both burst out laughing. The ice between them finally melted, letting them finally be themselves with each other.

“We’re terrible at this,” Y/N said resignedly.

“Yeah. But it’s the thought that counts, right?”

Before she could say anything, the music slowed down. People in the room started pairing up and spreading across the dance floor in embraces. The sight of it sent another wave of anxiety over Otis, reminding him of what he was planning to do tonight. He gulped, feeling his heart speeding up, his body heating up suddenly. He let out a shaky sigh, mentally urging himself to say something. Before he could, he felt Y/N’s eyes on him.

“Let’s dance,” she said with sudden determination.

“I—um,” Otis didn’t manage to say anything before Y/N set their cups aside and grabbed his hand.

“C’mon, life is too short. Might as well take risks and dance at a school party.”

Her hand was soft and warm. Otis cursed his nerves for causing his palms to sweat. This was not going according to plan at all. How could he ever be prepared for something like this? All it took was one light touch for him to completely forget all the phrases he was rehearsing at home. All the right words dissolved into nothing, leaving him speechless and breathless.

She was so beautiful. Her dress fit her perfectly. Hair framed her blushing cheeks. Her bright eyes, illuminated under the disco lights, watched him in shy excitement as she led him to the dance floor, cautiously moving back. As they reached the spot, she slowly slid her hands up his shoulders. Otis slowly put his hands on her waist, feeling his heart racing in his chest. With her so close to him, everything else faded away, leaving them the only ones dancing in the room. God, he loved her so much. It was no or never.

“Y/N—“

“Otis, I have to tell you something,” Y/N interrupted him out of nowhere, her fingers lightly squeezing his shoulders. “I rehearsed this a million times and almost chickened out, but I can’t keep it to myself anymore.”

She looked away, afraid to meet with Otis’s gaze.

“You’re my best friend, Otis. I care about you so so much, and the last thing I’d want is to lose you, but there’s something that I need you to know, and if I don’t say it, I will literally explode. Okay, I’m rambling now, sorry,” she took a shaky breath and continued, “I know I am not perfect. I have issues, I mess up constantly. But you still hang out with me, help me solve my problems, listen to me complain. Whenever I’m having a hard time, you’re always there to comfort me. Whenever I doubt myself, you’re always there to prove me wrong. You calm me down, you always support me, even if the entire world is against me. Okay, where am I going with this?” she looked at her feet, breathing fast. “What—what I’m trying to say is that—I am far away from perfect. But I like me better when I’m with you. I like you, Otis. More than a friend.”

Y/N finally raised her gaze and met with Otis’s shocked face, his eyes wide-open. Fear pierced her body, she started panicking, stepping away from him.

“There, that’s it. I just wanted to say it. You don’t have to say anything, especially if you don’t feel the same way. It doesn’t matter, nothing will change, I just wanted to let you know—“

Otis didn’t let her finish, rapidly pressing his lips to hers. His firmly grabbed her wrists, bringing her closer to him. Y/N squealed from surprise, but quickly kissed Otis back, grabbing him by his jacket. Magically, all the people around them seemed to disappear, even the music wasn’t playing anymore.

Being overwhelmed, they were out of breath quickly, breaking the kiss to catch some air. Their breath was unsteady and trembling, as they looked at each other, slowly catching up with the reality.

“I’m sorry, I—I should’ve been faster,” Otis whispered, “with the kiss.”

“That’s okay. Better later than never.” She whispered back. Otis examined Y/N’s face, unable to control the happiness that was streaming out of him.

“I like you too, Y/N. So much. You have no idea.”

“I think I get the concept,” she giggled, smiling warmly. Otis returned the look, squeezing her hands in his.

“Looks like this party just got a thousand times better.”

[theforeverhiatus]

Don’t Leave Me || oneshot

Hi, this is my first phanfiction I'm uploading to this Tumblr, though not my first phanfiction written! I apologise for any typos. I've just bought a new laptop and the keyboard is a different size to my old keyboard.. If anyone wants to beta read for me, just let me know! 

Read on AO3

Words: 3979

SUMMARY 

Dan suffers from PTSD. He has a flashback whilst at Phil’s apartment and Phil finds him on the bathroom floor shaking and sobbing. Comfort and fluff ensues. 

Rating: 17+

Warnings: PTSD, moderately detailed mentions of sexual assault, swearing, v fluff, vomiting

Notes: I am writing this fic based on my own experiences with PTSD. PTSD is different for everyone and can be expressed in different ways. In case you aren't familiar with what a flashback entails, this is a definition given by RAINN: 

"A flashback is when memories of a past trauma feel as if they are taking place in the current moment. That means it’s possible to feel like the experience of sexual violence is happening all over again. During a flashback it can be difficult to connect with reality. It may even feel like the perpetrator is physically present." 

A flashback can be relating to any trauma, not just that of sexual violence.  If you require any help with this topic, you can message me and I'll be more than happy to help you find a helpline for your country or direct you to information.

Don't Leave Me 

It was 2am. Dan had just arrived at his friend, Phil's house after trailing through Manchester in the dark with a bag of laundry and an ever-growing feeling of dread rising through his body from his toes to the tip of his wavy hair. He wasn’t entirely sure what had triggered him to slip his shoes on and head for Phil’s, but he figured that if he shoved his dirty clothes into a bag and brought them along too, then he had an excuse regardless of how weak an excuse it was. Manchester was quite intimidating so early in the morning given how empty and isolating it was, so Dan walked quickly and with purpose in the direction of Phil’s apartment block. It was only a 40 minute walk, but it felt like much, much longer. He daren’t even put his earphones in his ears for the fear of someone creeping up on him. His chest felt tight, and his throat constricted as he tried to take in deep breaths, but he tried hard to push away his anxiety, telling himself it was just because of how unfit he was. He was fine. He just wanted to do laundry.

By the time he arrived, the adrenaline was racing through his veins as he tried to reason with himself for the fourth time that day that he wasn’t actually having a heart attack. He hated the dark, and he had known before he left that getting a taxi was probably the more sensible option, but what student has enough money to spare for a taxi across Manchester on a Friday evening/Saturday morning? Not Dan.

As he rang the buzzer for Phil's flat, he suddenly realised that he hadn't actually warned Phil he was about to turn up on his doorstep in the middle of the night. After several minutes and no sign of Phil, Dan's anxiety began to sky-rocket. He was going to be stuck out here, in Manchester City Centre all alone, and cold, and he was certain there was a giant rain cloud looming above him. His heart pounded in his chest, and he felt tears gathering in his eyes. He blinked and tried to pull himself together. He was 18 for God’s sake, and he was acting like a child. Suddenly, the intercom let out a long beep and Dan heard Phil's tired voice. He could listen to that voice all day; the sound of kindness, reason, and love. "Hello?"  Dan blinked rapidly to hold back his tears and cleared his throat. "Phil, it's me, Dan."  "Dan?" Phil repeated, concern evident in his voice. "Umm, okay. I'll let you up. Hang on." Phil went silent as he tried to decipher the buttons on his intercom panel. Finally selecting the button to open the door, he clicked off, leaving Dan standing waiting, with small drops of rain beginning to fall onto him. The door began to open and the intercom fell silent. Dan began to drag his laundry bag up the 6 flights of stairs, reluctant to use the lift at this time of night. He trudged along the hall to Phil's door, careful to keep his footsteps as quiet as possible for the sake of the neighbours who were all no doubt sleeping by now. Dan crept along until he reached the right number, where he was greeted by a bleary eyed Phil, dressed in cookie monster pyjama bottoms and a red hoodie. "Are you moving in?" Phil asked. His tone was serious, brow furrowed with worry.  "No, you spork. I came to do laundry," Dan replied quietly, walking past Phil and into the apartment. He dumped his bag next to the washing machine in the kitchen and began to kick off his shoes. He’d grown accustomed to treating Phil’s apartment as a second home, because it practically was. Phil told him that he needn’t knock, and had even given him the spare key. Too bad he couldn’t give him a spare fob for the main entrance so that he didn’t have to stand in the rain at 2am waiting for Phil to work out how to use the control panel. "At 2am?" Phil followed Dan through to the lounge and motioned for him to pass his coat which he then went to hang up in the cupboard. Busted. "Yeah. Laundry."  "Dan..." Phil raised his eyebrows and looked into the boy's eyes, searching for the truth. He was met by slightly wet, brown eyes staring back at him, dark rings encircled beneath them. "You having a bad night?"  "Maybe...” Dan muttered, defeated. If he couldn’t be truthful with Phil, then who could he be truthful with?  Phil nodded and went to switch the kettle on. "Tea?"  "That's so fucking British, Phil," Dan smirked. "Yeah, go on then." He went to sit down on the sofa, watching Phil as he drew his knees up to his chest and rested his head there. He sniffed, and Phil turned around to check that Dan wasn't crying.   "Do you want to talk about it?" Phil yawned. "Sorry, I'm not bored, I'm just tired." The kettle came to a boil and Phil set out two mugs on the countertop.  "Not really," answered Dan with a shrug. "I kind of just want to forget about it for now." Truth was, Dan wasn’t quite sure what exactly had brought him here in the first place, and until he had mulled it over in a safe space with Phil by his side, he had no idea what it was he was even meant to be talking about. "That's okay." The wind howled outside and Dan was thankful he'd set off when he had. The weather was worsening, just like Dan's emotional state. He smirked to himself at the pathetic fallacy and accepted a mug from Phil with a topless anime character on the front. "I only give Haru to people I really like," Phil smiled, "You're lucky." He sat himself down next to Dan, wondering what he could do to help. He settled for switching on the TV to try and help Dan distract his thoughts from whatever was going on in his mind. Tomorrow, they'd probably have a good chat about it, but for now, Phil knew that wasn't what Dan needed. He was also fully aware that Dan may not actually know himself what was bothering him, and that was okay too. Feeling low didn’t have to have a reason. The TV switched on to BBC1, and began to run through the news. A suspected terrorist had been identified in London, an outbreak of Norovirus was threatening to close an A&E department in Bristol, and a man had been sexually assaulted in Manchester; a third in a string of attacks. Phil flicked through the TV guide looking for something to watch, but the news played in a small box in the corner until he selected E4 which was showing reruns of the Big Bang Theory.  

Dan flinched beside Phil, who didn't seem to notice. It crept up slow, burning in the pit of his stomach as the nausea began to rise, threatening to make him puke all over Phil’s cream rug. His mind slowly began swirling with a thick, black fog and he was filled with that all too familiar sinking feeling. Dan suddenly found himself having to exert extra effort in a bid to keep his vision focused; his mind was pulling him deep into the depths of his worst memories. He knew what was likely about to happen, and he had to protect himself.

"Uhh, I'm just going to the toilet," Dan muttered, quickly getting up off the sofa and rushing down the hall with urgency. No, not now. Please, not now. Dan's face began to burn up, and his cheeks flushed a bright red. Thankfully, Phil didn’t turn away from the TV as he mumbled his acknowledgement, sipping his tea slowly. As Dan walked into the bathroom, he was forced to steady himself against the radiator in order to stay upright. He tried to breathe just like his counsellor had taught him; in for 7, out for 11. He even opened Tumblr and searched for the GIF of the pentagon that helped you to breathe during a panic attack. He loved that GIF, and sometimes even found comfort in the slowly expanding pattern that moved rhythmically before him, counting his breaths when all he could focus on was filling his lungs with air. He tried grounding techniques; he counted the spots on the bathmat, and he counted how many shades of blue he could see in the room. Slowly, slowly, his focus faded. He lost grip of the radiator as he hit himself on the side of his head in frustration. Sliding down the wall, Dan curled tight into a ball and brought his knees to his chin. Why am I like this? His plan was to just sit tight and ride out the flashback as quietly and subtly as possible. The trouble was, Dan was an expert in judging the severity of his flashbacks by now; he knew this was going to be one of the worst ones, and he couldn't guarantee what he'd be like during it or who long it would last. For a long time, his counsellor had told him you can control this, Dan. You have the power to take back control of your thoughts. And Dan had tried, he really had, but it was just so disheartening each time to fight and fight against his memories, all the while being consumed by fear and despair until he was shaking uncontrollably on the floor. He squeezed his eyes closed as tight as he could, willing away the images that were flashing through his brain. He felt a soft, breathy whisper against his ear. Keep still. Dan let out a moan as it all came thundering back in full force. You're not going to try to run are you? No, Dan thought. He was firmly fixed to the spot, his legs like jelly. He couldn’t run even if he tried. Rough hands were pressing against him, tearing at his clothes as he sobbed. He held himself tightly, and cried out in terror. "GET OFF ME! STOP!" Angry eyes flashed him, and all he could smell was the bitter scent of whisky. And strawberries. Strawberries?   A soft handed rested on his shoulder, shaking him slightly. "Dan. Dan. Dan!" This voice was different from before, and not as forcibly in his personal space. It was a softer voice. Huh? This isn't right. This isn't how it goes. Dan was sharply tugged back to the present, and his every atom was suddenly filled with embarrassment as he stared up at the black haired man standing before him. "Where are you?" Dan croaked out in a whisper. He could see Phil, but he couldn’t comprehend how the man was standing before him as he was hurled through this memory. Phil wasn’t meant to be here.

Phil didn’t quite understand what Dan was asking, but from what he had just witnessed, Dan wasn’t entirely in the same room as Phil. "Can I come closer again?" Phil spoke softly. "I think I frightened you a minute ago." When Dan didn't reply, Phil slowly edged toward him. "It's just me, it's Phil," he murmured, watching Dan carefully for any sign of discomfort. When Dan didn't flinch this time, and didn't continue to scream, Phil slowly lowered himself onto the ground beside him until he was sitting flush against him, their backs to the wall. Dan was watching Phil intently, his eyes still somewhat glazed over, but more focused than they had been moments earlier.

"Dan?" Phil whispered. "It's just me, Phil. I’m here." Dan remained silent, but slowly lowered his head onto Phil's chest, and he was quickly engulfed in warmth, and the very certain scent of strawberries. This was Phil. Phil was a safe person. He began to run through a list of things he knew about Phil; another grounding technique. Phil has black hair. Phil is 6ft 2. Phil hates cheese. Phil's birthday is January 30th. Phil wouldn't hurt me. He began to let out small, shaky sobs, which soon turned into loud, ugly wails. Just as he thought it was all over, the panic and terror returned all at once, and Dan promptly threw up all over Phil’s bathroom floor, narrowly missing Phil by inches. This only caused him to cry harder. If Phil was repulsed, or at all bothered by the smell, he didn’t give anything away. He gently directed Dan to the toilet where he continued to throw up until he was just retching, and his throat felt like it was on fire. Phil sat behind him rubbing small circles into his shoulder blades, whispering reassurance. “I’m here,” he soothed, “Just here, right behind you. Get it all out.”

Dan flopped onto the cold tile and Phil took this as a sign that Dan was done. He reached over him and flushed the toilet, pulling some toilet roll from the holder and wiping Dan’s mouth. “I’m about to take your shirt off, Dan. You just tell me if you want me to stop and I will, but it’s covered in sick.” Dan just sighed and continued to lie on the floor. He closed his eyes in exhaustion. Everything hurt; his chest, his throat, his head, his eyes, his heart. Though he remained fuzzy and distant, he was finally returning to the real world. Phil gently encouraged Dan’s arms out of the sleeves, and then pulled the t-shirt gently over his head, all whilst consoling Dan in hushed tones. He tossed the t-shirt into the corner and made a mental note to wash that as soon as he’d sorted Dan out. Standing up, and making his way to the door, Phil heard Dan whisper so quietly that he barely heard him. “Don’t leave me.” ”I’m just going to my bedroom, just across the hall to grab you another shirt and I’ll be right back.” Dan groaned, but Phil was concerned about how much the boy was shaking with fear and cold, so he quickly walked over to his dresser where he chose a pacman t-shirt and brought it back to the bathroom. He took a flannel from the side of the bath and began to fill the sink with soapy water. “Here’s a wet cloth,” Phil explained, holding it out to his friend. “Just give yourself a quick wash if you can, just to get the sick off. I’ll turn around if you want.” Dan whimpered softly. “You.” He opened his eyes, still lying on the floor shaking. ”Me? You want me to do it?” Phil asked. He was eager to have Dan’s explicit consent to engage in this intimate act, especially following what had just happened. The last thing he wanted was to scare Dan, or to make him feel uncomfortable. Dan’s head nodded ever so slightly, and Phil knelt down and gently encouraged Dan into a sitting position. He slowly wiped Dan’s torso, and then dipped the cloth into the sink, squeezing out the excess water and tossing it into the wash pile alongside Dan’s shirt. Tears continued to run down Dan’s face, and Phil felt a surge of sadness. His friend was suffering, and there was nothing he could do but be there. He had so many questions, none of which would help right now, so he pushed his thoughts away from everything he wanted to do to the bastard who’d damaged Dan, and focussed himself on just simply being there. Towelling Dan off felt strange; not because of the intimacy, but because Phil had never done this to anyone before and it just felt unnatural. Once he was convinced Dan was dry, he tugged the pacman shirt over Dan’s head. “There you go. Do you want pyjama bottoms or do you want to sleep in your boxers?” ”Pyjamas,” Dan whispered. He wasn’t sure he could handle wearing so little clothing right now, even though he trusted Phil with his life. He wanted to cover as much of his skin as possible; create a barrier between him and the world. Every touch lingered on Dan’s skin, and though Phil had stopped wiping him down, Dan could still feel the memory of it against him as though it were still happening. That’s how he knew he was beginning to come back to reality; he could reason with himself that Phil’s touch was gentle and kind. He wanted Phil’s touch. “Okay. I’m just going to have to go and get some, but I’ll be straight back.”

Phil returned moments later holding some Star Wars bottoms to find that Dan had already shuffled out of his trousers…an improvement, thought Phil. At least Dan was managing to co-ordinate his limbs slightly better than he had minutes earlier when he’d lashed out at Phil, apparently unaware of who was nearby. Dan’s eyes were watching Phil intently rather than being fixed absent-mindedly ahead, and Phil noted the progress, however small. Phil passed over the pyjama bottoms, and Dan slipped them on quietly. Though he seemed calmer than he previously had, he was still shaking hard.

”Dan, I think it’s best we get you all comfy. You don’t have to go to sleep, and I’ll leave the light on. I’ll be right behind you, but I need to clean up,” Phil spoke softly, holding his hand out encouragingly. Dan grabbed it, and Phil pulled him up, slowly leading him into his bedroom. He flicked the bedside lamp on, and settled Dan under the covers, tucking them around him. “I’m just cleaning up. Nothing else. Then I’ll be right back and we can talk about it, or we can just lie here. It’s all your decision.” Dan nodded slowly and reached out for Phil’s hand, which Phil took immediately. Dan squeezed, and Phil leant down to stroke Dan’s fringe from his face. “Two minutes, okay?” Dan nodded again, and Phil left to grab his cleaning bucket from the kitchen. He hated sick. Usually, the very sound of someone being sick made Phil gag, but something about the urgency of the situation meant that he had successfully stayed by Dan’s side. He wondered if that was what being a parent was like; if that’s how his Mum coped when he and Martyn were sick - because you had to. The stench hit him as soon as he returned to the bathroom. Man up, he thought. He crouched down and began to clean his floor, spraying it with disinfectant that smelled like lemon and lime. He’d never seen Dan in this state before. Sure, Dan had come round to his apartment before, sometimes with an extremely anxious demeanour about him, and he’d even cried into Phil’s chest, but he’d never been like he had been tonight. Phil knew that it was some sort of intrusive memory, and he knew that Dan must have been through some sort of trauma that he hadn’t yet disclosed to him; the very thought almost making him throw up as well. His friend was suffering, and he felt an intense urge to help in any way he could, no matter what it took. Suddenly, he heard soft sobs coming from his bedroom. Dan was crying again. Phil sped up with his cleaning, and within a minute or two had finished; his floor looked cleaner than it had before Dan arrived. Quickly throwing some toilet cleaner down the toilet and setting his washing machine away on a hot wash, he rushed back to Dan’s side with a glass of water. “Hey, hey hey hey…I’m back. Dan, can you hear me?” Dan looked up in acknowledgement, his head rested on the pillows. He looked exhausted, and Phil knew he wouldn’t take long to fall asleep. He was prepared to sleep on the sofa if Dan needed space, but he thought he’d ask if he could join him in the bed anyway in case he needed the safety of having someone nearby.”Please,” Dan whispered. Phil lifted the covers and joined Dan under them, reaching out to find his hand. “Shhhh,” he soothed, “It’s okay, I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Dan’s cries lessened, and his breathing slowed until he was taking deep breaths. Phil knew he shouldn’t ask questions, but he couldn’t help himself. He had to know who. If Dan didn’t want to answer, that was fine, but Phil really needed to know if Dan was safe now or not. ”Who was it, Dan?” Phil murmured, so quietly that for a moment, he didn’t think Dan had heard him. Dan’s eyes stayed closed tight. ”Eric” Phil knew Eric. Phil knew that Dan still knew Eric. This was going to need to be dealt with, but it would have to wait. “From Reading? The one I met at the reunion we went to?” Eric was Dan’s ex-boyfriend, who’d been with Dan through some of high school. Phil knew the break up was messy, but that’s all Dan had told him. He felt Dan’s head move up and down beside him on the pillow. ”Before I left for uni. Every time I saw him...he would...make me...” Dan’s tears began to flow again, and Phil pulled Dan closer, enveloping him in a warm hug. He held him close and whispered reassurances to him soothingly, running his fingers through his fringe. The sobs continued to rack through Dan’s body and Phil’s neck quickly became wet with tears. “Every damn time.” ”We don’t have to talk about it now, but listen to me; I will hold you for as long as you need, and I will be right by your side wiping away your tears.” He hushed Dan, and continued to thumb his fingers through the boys fringe, until he quietened once more. ”I’m sorry,” Dan muttered. “For turning up so late. And being sick. And pushing you away. And-” ”Dan. Stop.” Phil interrupted him urgently. “You have nothing - nothing to be sorry about. I am here for you always. You aren’t alone. Dan, I love you with all my heart and I will do anything for you.” His love for Dan, regardless of whether platonic or romantic, soared through him, and he needed Dan to know he wasn’t on his own anymore; that he would never be on his own ever again. The two of them lay there in silence for a long time, before Dan’s breathing began to slow, and he let out a little snore, relaxing into Phil’s embrace. Phil only hugged him tighter, quietly vowing to never ever let anyone hurt Dan again. He would protect him, hold him tightly, and most importantly, he would never ever leave him.

 ~fin~

 If you’ve been affected by any of the topics raised in this fic, please feel free to message me. Also, I really welcome feedback/prompts, as it’s so hard starting out a new tumblr and I’d appreciate it so, so much!

[hamilficsfordays]

New Beginning—Chapter Six: Manipulation

Disclaimer: I don’t know Lin, nor do I know any of his friends or family.

Also posted on Ao3

Summary: The plan to have Alexa return is finally put into motion.

Rating: M for language, mentions of cutting/self-harming

Words: 4824

Askbox / Masterlist / Chapter Five / Chapter Seven

Later that same evening, Lin was in his office with a blank document open on his computer.

Vanessa was stood behind him, hands on his shoulders, carefully feeding him instructions.

“You’re going to write a letter expressing your heartfelt thoughts on the situation. But it has to be sad.”

“You want it to be sad?”

She nodded. “It needs to be sadder than an animal adoption commercial. Then you’re going to read it during curtain call one night to the Hamilton audience. Whoever runs social media for the show will film it and put it online. It’ll make people sympathetic. That’s just what we need them to be when we anonymously send those documents to the press. That sympathy will turn into public outcry at the first sight of injustice. Nothing puts self-entitled bitches like Janine on their ass faster than a group of execs forcing her to handle angry donors who are demanding answers.”

“You really think that’ll work?”

“Trust me.” she kissed his cheek. “Put your heart and soul into this and she’ll be back here in no time.”

For a while, Lin hesitated to write anything. He could think of plenty of things that he wanted to write, but nothing seemed to want to come out. Everything was second guessed. Would it be sincere enough? Would it gain sympathy? Most of all: would it get her back?

Eventually, he gave up on trying to appeal to others. He wrote exactly what he was feeling; the pain, the frustration, the heartache.

He printed it out before heading to bed in the hope it would be just enough to get the job done.

-

At curtain call the following night, Lin bowed with his cast before pulling a paper out of his sleeve.

“If I could just have another minute of your time,” he asked of the crowd, applause dying down.

He opened the paper, beginning to read aloud. Behind him, the cast knew of his intentions and was eager to show their support. In the audience, cell phones were pulled out, eagerly awaiting what came next.

“I wanted to take time this evening to talk about how incredibly grateful I am to work alongside a tremendous cast every night. I truly believe that they push me further every day. They’re my family away from home.” he paused for just a moment, looking back at the cast who encouraged him to continue.

“While I’m so grateful for my family here, I know my family at home gets no standing ovation at the end of each night for being who they are, though they totally deserve it.”

The crowd chuckled at the notion.

“My amazing wife works hard day in and day out, pushing herself every day for me and our two kids—truly the best of wives and best of women.”

There was applause.

“My son Sebastian inspires me every day with his views of the world around us. He is truly a reminder that the greatest thing we can honor is the child in all of us.”

More applause.

“My daughter,” his voice cracked as he choked back tears, the audience erupting in applause. “One of the smartest, most incredible people I’ve ever met. Her strength, her passion is above all else. I look to her for ways to better myself each and every day. She has—” he paused, unable to hold back tears. The audience applauded again, Renee stepping in to finish the note for him. She continued.

“She has been and continues to be the most astonishing source of hope since my wife and I brought her into our lives less than a month ago. Recently, she was pulled rather abruptly from our lives for extenuating circumstances, but that doesn’t change how prominently she’s affected me or my family. I only hope that wherever she is at this very moment, she knows how much my wife and I love and miss her.”

Renee was brought to tears this time.

“I would not be standing before you today—that is to say, Hamilton would not exist without my family.”

More applause. The audience was on their feet, Lin smiling through his tears as Renee continued.

“If I could ask you to do anything this evening, it would be to go hug your loved ones, tell them that they’re loved and appreciated. I certainly know I’m going to do the same.”

More applause erupted as the cast headed off-stage. Lin changed out of his costume and prepared to head outside and sign autographs at the stage door. On his way out, he received multiple texts from Vanessa who commended him on his work.

[It’s already all over twitter. I’ve never seen so many crying emojis. You nailed it.]

[If everything goes right, this should be national news by tomorrow morning.]

They were both up early the next morning. Lin was feeding Sebastian in the kitchen while Vanessa was in the living room, dressed for work, changing the channel from one news outlet to the other. Several of them were fixated on last night’s events, just as Vanessa had expected.

“It’s working!” She called out. “I’m almost kind of upset that the public is so easily manipulated! What’s going to happen on election day next year?”

“Did you hear back from Claudia yet?” he prompted changing the concerning subject. “Isn’t that the next step in this plan?”

“She hasn’t gotten ahold of me ye—” As if on command, her phone rang. It was Claudia, likely with news regarding their situation. She moved to Lin’s side, putting the call on speaker so they both could hear.

“Claudia? What happened?”

“¡Ay Dios Mio! I got it!” she exclaimed. “I have a bag full of everything that was in her shredder.”

“Perfect! Bring it here tonight and we can start putting things together.”

As she hung up the phone, she caught the slightest glimpse of a smile on Lin’s face.

“I know you work tonight, but when you get back, you’re gonna have to help us sort through all of that shredded paper.”

“I miss her.” he seemed rather distracted as he wiped the remaining food off of Sebastian’s face.

“It’s only a matter of time before she’s back.” V pointed out. “I’m surprised that you’re not more excited.”

“I wonder what she’s doing right now.”

“She probably heard about your speech and is in tears like everyone else.”

-

“If you take a medication, please line up at the door.”

Hamilton biography in hand, Alexa stood in line by the med clinic and waited to receive her medication. Her usual pediatric dosage of Zoloft typically kept most of her symptoms of depression, anxiety, and PTSD at bay, but lately, it wouldn’t be enough.

When she reached the door, she swiftly hid the pill behind her teeth, swallowing the cup of water that came after. They checked her mouth to confirm it was gone, before moving along to the next person.

Once she was back in the main hall, she pretended to cough, placing the pill in her hand so it could be carefully thrown out when no one was looking.

In hindsight, it wasn’t the brightest idea to not be taking her meds. She’d been voluntarily doing it since her return to the orphanage; though she couldn’t keep any pills down during her stay in the hospital anyway.

She felt more on edge, that was for sure, but at the moment it was the only way she could protest her current situation. She almost hoped to snap, putting the people who had sent her back into the system through hell. That, and losing her mind enough to not remember how badly she missed Lin would be the best case scenario.

She approached an empty table and began quietly trying to read the Hamilton biography. The book was hidden under the table to avoid another page-tearing incident.

The noise from the TV at the end of the hall distracted her, however, as it was especially loud that morning. She got up, headed toward the group huddled around the tv to complain.

“Could you turn that shit down?” she demanded, glancing at the screen. “No want wants to hear your—”

Her sentence was cut short, her words suddenly missing at the sight of Lin, onstage in his final costume, on the screen.

“My daughter…“

His speech was moving, something she had come to expect from Lin. As Renee finished the speech, some of the others surrounding the tv screen turned to look at her. She realized her mouth was hanging open in disbelief.

His words sounded so final. It almost felt like he knew something that she didn’t know.

Like maybe there actually was a chance she would never see him again.

The thought haunted her as she rushed to Claudia’s office upstairs, only to discover that she wasn’t there.

“Alexa… you’re not allowed to be up here.” Instead, she was greeted by Janine, who was stepping out of her office.

“I need to speak to my case manager,” Alexa demanded. “It’s an emergency.”

“Well, she’s not here today.” Janine attempted to move her back toward the stairs.

“Probably desperately trying to find a new job.”

“New job? What new job?”

“That’s none of your concern. Why don’t you head back downstairs?”

“I want to speak to someone about my case with the Miranda family.” the teen stood her ground. She was determined to not be moved until she got answers.

“That case has been nullified.”

“Wait, what? According to Claudia it was still being reviewed—”

“If you’d like, I can have someone discuss your options for aging out. It’s unlikely that another foster family will be looking to take you in at your age.”

“You can’t just tell me the case has been nullified and not explain why! I deserve to know what’s happening—”

“I appreciate your admiration, but I’m afraid it’s irrelevant. The Miranda household has been deemed unfit for foster care children. Now if you’ll just head back downstairs—”

“But you can’t do this! They were the nicest people I’ve ever—”

“Miss Jordan, if you don’t move back downstairs, I’m going to have to call the authorities.”

Being black in America was difficult enough without the police getting involved to make a bad situation worse. Alexa seceded, frustrated, feeling tears well up in her eyes as she headed downstairs. She angrily wiped them away.

In a way, this felt expected, like just another day of the foster care system letting her down. She was supposed to be used to this feeling, but somehow it hurt ten times as bad in this case.

She negated heading back to the large room with everyone else, instead of ducking into a corner at the bottom of the staircase.

Her heart was pounding as she sunk to the floor and tried to catch her breath.

The anxiety attack was coming on faster than she could handle. Her meds typically slowed things down when she got too panicked, but without them, she couldn’t handle what was coming next.

This was it.

She’d never see him again.

She didn’t even really get to say goodbye.

For the first time since her return to the orphanage, she felt alone.

Not just in the system, but in this world.

There was an impulse driving her that she couldn’t control without meds.

It drove her back to her bed, where hidden somewhere in her dresser was a half-full package of plastic shaving razors. She pulled one out, snapping the plastic at the top and pulling a small blade out with ease.

It wasn’t her first time trying this.

The blade was unused, making it easy to cut through her skin.

Both of her forearms were covered in open wounds before the door to the room burst open, a female, middle-aged staff member coming inside.

“You know you’re not allowed to be here during the daytime—What are you doing?!”

Alexa could feel her cheeks turning red, her shame rising as the woman caught sight of all the blood.

-

That night, Claudia, Vanessa, and Lin were sat on the floor of his office going through the thousands of shredded pieces of paper in the hope of finding Alexa’s documents and putting them back together.

They slaved over Chinese takeout, working through the night. As pages started piecing together, Vanessa began to notice a negative pattern.

“Wow… there’s a lot of questionable shit in here.” She pulled some of the half-pages out. “Public funding being put toward hotel stays in Miami, the rent on a penthouse in the financial district… not to mention there are documents shredded from the files of other kids. I honestly wish we were able to sue this woman… there’s enough here to put her away for a long time.”

“Let’s focus on getting what we need.” Lin reminded her. “Alexa is the most important part of this. If we can cost Janine her job after the fact—”

“It’s a bonus.” Vanessa finished.

Hours passed. It was an ungodly hour in the morning before Claudia began to raise concerns.

“Aye, there’s so much here. I’m worried we won’t have everything we need in time.”

“We’re going to need all night at this rate. This is more than I expected.”

“I haven’t found a single document with her name on it.” Whether it be from exhaustion, lack of progress or both, Lin seemed defeated. “What if this was all for nothing?”

“This was not all for nothing.” V took his hand, lacing their fingers together. “We’re gonna fix this, okay? Trust me.”

“You haven’t even entertained the possibility that this won’t work.” he insisted. “It might not.”

“That sounds like a waste of time. Lin, we’ve been together for ten years. Have I ever been wrong about this kind of thing?”

“Not really.”

“Exactly. Please trust me on this.” she kissed him. “I’m confident everything will work out.”

-

By sunrise, they’d put all of the pieces together. They made copies of the once-shredded pages with plans to expose them by the end of the day.

“Shouldn’t we just give it to them now?” Lin questioned as Claudia left that morning. “Most morning shows are on until noon. We could get the news out now and by the end of the day, everyone will know.”

“What, so they can squeeze the story between back-to-school fashion shows and the latest superfood?” Vanessa compiled the copies, stapling each set together and sliding them each into a manila envelope. “No one will take it seriously if it’s morning news. Anyone who watches the morning news is either up at five am on their way to work and too tired to care, or willfully unemployed and watching mid-morning. This needs to be evening news. Then they’ll be all over it. People tend to be annoyed after a long day at work and a frustrating commute home. They’ll be more likely to get angry about something like this.”

“That sounds manipulative.” he pointed out.

“Of course it is. I’m a lawyer. This entire plan works because the public is so easily manipulated. Why do you think I told you to make your speech so emotional?”

Lin was quiet for a moment.

“It’s been a long night. You should get some rest. I can call my mom and ask her to look after Sebastian. I’m going to get ready for work.”

“I should take Tobillo for a walk first.”

“Okay.” She kissed his forehead. “I love you.”

-

At one, Vanessa headed out for a lunch break claiming to be meeting a client. Instead, she took the train up to midtown to deliver a few copies of their records. First to NBC News, then Fox, ABC, CNN and New York 1. At each location, she refused to give a name. She left the documents with a receptionist who would inevitably hand them off to someone else.

By the time she’d returned to the office around four, the news was already beginning to break. There were a few online articles that had gained traction on social media, only scratching the surface of the whole story. By the time she’d gotten home around six, every evening news show had latched on.

“Coming up tonight, potential corruption within the foster care system here in New York City. Why one particular family who recently had a foster child unjustifiably removed from their home has been told to Wait For It in regards to their return, only to find out that the case they were in the middle of had been nullified.”

“I hope you’re ready for an egregious amount of bad puns based on Hamilton lyrics.” she told Lin, who was quietly watching the tv from the loveseat.

The news led to an outcry on social media, where the hashtag #givebacktheirgirl sparked public outrage over the incident. Just as Vanessa had predicted, people were upset by the news and had plans to fight back. Protests began downtown near the orphanage. As the movement gained more traction, some of the organization’s private donors began to express their displeasure with the situation.

When Janine headed into her office the next morning, she was greeted by Jonathan Daley, the owner of the organization.

“Mr. Daley,” she stopped short on the way to her office. “I didn’t expect to see you, sir—”

“Ms. Bryan, we need to speak immediately.” He opened the door to her office for her, stepping inside. “This is not good.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”

Jonathan took Janine’s usual seat behind her own desk, leaving Janine to sit on the other side of her desk like a guest in her own office. His suit was worth more than any item of clothing she owned, and he wore that fact rather well.

“We’ve received several calls from benefactors who are furious with the news of our history with the Miranda family. When I attempted to examine the case for more details, I was told the case had been nullified by you. Why is that?”

“I—I don’t—”

“The information released by the media included copies of clearly shredded documents from that girl’s file. What explanation do you have for that?”

“Sir, it was that case manager, Claudia. She shredded the documents to—”

“I don’t care who’s fault it is. You need to fix this.” He stood up, heading towards the door. “So far, this has all been traced back to you which means it’s your responsibility to take care of it. If we lose even a single donor because of this, it’ll be on you.”

“What do you expect me to do?!”

“Keep the public outcry to a minimum. If that means pulling her out of that pediatric psych ward and putting her back with the Miranda family, do it. Honestly, I don’t see why you didn’t do that in the first place.”

“I was trying to save us money by keeping enough children in the system—”

“Saving money?” he stopped just short of leaving, turning back to her. “The money we’ll lose if donors start backing out will be a hundred times what we’re making by keeping one person here. Still think that you’re helping us?”

Janine was silent.

“Fix it. Immediately.”

The door slammed shut behind him.

-

This wasn’t Alexa’s first time in a pediatric psych ward.

As per usual, she was one of the least fucked up people there.

They’d stuck her in a room with a fourteen-year-old white girl who was anorexic, constantly staring at herself in the mirror over the sink. Her blue hospital gown gave the slightest impression that she was bigger than she was, which was not very big.

“You’re like, ninety pounds Alyssa, stop fucking staring at yourself. It’s not gonna make you any thinner.”

The girl turned to glare at her, still in bed in the middle of the day, before refocusing on herself in the mirror.

Alexa sighed, rubbing her eyes. There were bandages wrapped each of her forearms that she always managed to forget about until the skin under the bandages itched and she couldn’t reach it.

A boy that was about their age popped his head into the open door.

“Why is rape illegal?!” he demanded before a nurse pulled him back.

“Oh, that’s nice.” Alexa rolled her eyes. “Just the friendly reminder I needed on top of this shitty situation.”

“Girls, lunch is here. Come eat.” Another nurse peeked her head.

“I can’t eat, I’m like three hundred pounds!” Alyssa insisted.

“Alyssa, do you need to see a doctor?” the nurse reminded her. Defeated, Alyssa headed out of the room and down the hall toward the dining room.

“Can I please not sit next to that kid who set his parents on fire again?” Alexa asked the nurse on her way out. “He always stares at me like I’m his next victim.”

“If he touches you, let one of our nurses know.” she reminded the teen.

She grabbed her tray and sat at the table beside the fire kid. As per usual, he glared at her without a word.

Her discharge couldn’t come fast enough.

-

“I’m so glad you two could meet on such short notice.”

The next day, Janine had managed to get both Vanessa and Lin into her office. They sat beside one another on the other side of her desk, quiet, listening.

“I believe there’s been some kind of misunderstanding here. I think we got off on the wrong foot. There was an accidental nullification of your file that I take complete responsibility for. I’m willing to have Alexa returned to your household. As long as you comply with your case manager and there are no other incidents, you should be able to keep her through the duration of the year and then decide if you’d like to adopt or not. Just a few Hamilton tickets and a promise not to sue and she’s all yours.” Janine put on her best fake smile, hoping she had them convinced.

The looks on their faces, however, said otherwise.

“You and I both know that the higher ups here are putting pressure on you to make this disappear.” Vanessa leaned forward, metaphorically going in for the kill. “Your donors are threatening to back out and that would put you out of a job, Janine. A lawsuit would drag this out for another year or two. How about you give Alexa back, you don’t get any Hamilton tickets, and you pray that I don’t go through with that lawsuit.”

Lin smiled wide for the first time in a long time, fist-bumping his wife for her successful intimidation.

“Fine.”

“Oh, and Claudia keeps her job and stays assigned to this case,” she added. “If you’re not going to get fired, she definitely shouldn’t be.”

“Agreed.” Janine nodded once. “Talk to Claudia, but you should be able to get her back after she’s released from the hospital the day after tomorrow.”

Their smiles faded.

“Wasn’t she released from the hospital like a week ago?” he questioned.

“It’s a minimum three day stay for self-harming behavior. There was an incident two days ago.”

“Which you’ll be disclosing to us in full, of course.” Vanessa clarified.

“That’s not my job. Talk to Claudia. She knows more about this than I do.”

The couple glanced at each other briefly.

“Is she in today?”

-

“I was going to tell you, pending your meeting with Janine went well. I’m assuming it did.”

They had relocated to Claudia’s office shortly afterward.

“She won’t be bothering any of us anymore,” Vanessa confirmed.

“What happened to Alexa?” Lin wasted no time moving back to the topic at hand. “Is she okay?”

“She is now, yes. She’ll have to be held in the hospital until Friday. One of our staff caught her with a blade and her arms had open wounds, so they considered it an act to self-harm and admitted her to a pediatric psych ward.”

Lin felt the breath in his lungs leave all at once.

“Why would she do that? She never did that when she was with us.”

“She has a history of self-harming,” Claudia reminded him. “… but it typically only occurred under abusive care. This was probably part of a reaction to not being around you two anymore—that is, assuming you treated her as well as she claimed.”

Lin instinctively reached out for Vanessa’s hand, squeezing it for support.

“You’ll still be able to see her on Friday,” she assured them. “I would keep a watchful eye on her behavior if you can, though. If she does or says anything that seems out of character to you, let me know. As long as we communicate, something like this should never have to happen again.”

-

By Friday, Alexa’s method of getting rid of her meds (harder at the hospital though not impossible), had proven to be a bad idea. Her anxiety was through the roof, and every time another patient screamed, which happened relatively often, she was rather disturbed by the sound.

At the announcement of her discharge, she had never been more excited to see Claudia and be on the other side.

Claudia greeted her outside the psych ward with a smile.

“How are you feeling?”

“Not saying that I’m looking forward to the orphanage, but anything is better than that.”

“You’re not going back there,” Claudia informed her, gesturing to the bag of Alexa’s things in her hand. “Come with me.”

Curious, Alexa followed her down to the lobby of the mental health center.

In the lobby, Lin was trying to contain his excitement as he waited for Claudia to return. Every time one of the elevator doors opened, he glanced over eagerly only to find someone else.

Finally there she was; Alexa by her side. There were huge bags under her eyes and bandages wrapped around each of her forearms, but he’d never been so happy to see her.

He watched as she caught sight of him, nearly sprinting in his direction.

She practically jumped into his arms. He caught her without hesitation, kissing the top of her head.

“Oh my god, what the fuck?! I thought I would never see you again! What are you doing—” she paused, stepping back. “Please tell me you’re here for me and not someone else.”

He laughed. “Yes, I’m here for you. You’re coming back to the heights with us.”

She hugged him again. “Oh my god… you scared me so much! What was with that speech you made?! It sounded like you knew you’d lost me! It scared the shit out of me!”

“Believe it or not, it actually helped get you back. Sorry for scaring you, though.”

Claudia carefully handed him the bag of her things.

“Take care of her.” she reminded him.

“Okay, first thing’s first, I’m going to take you out for lunch,” Lin announced once they’d left the hospital. “Anywhere you want to go. Vanessa won’t be home until later, and my mom is watching Sebastian, so we’ve got the afternoon to ourselves.”

“We should probably go pick up a prescription first,” she confessed. “There’s a slight chance that I’ve been tossing my meds since I left you guys.”

Lin sighed.

“Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad. I’m glad you told me right away. Meds first, food second. Then when we get home, we should probably give you a new set of bandages.” he directed to her forearms.

“Yeah…” she glanced down at her arms. “Things kind of got fucked up when you left.”

“It’s okay if things get fucked up.” he reminded her. “Just as long as you’re ready to fix them. That starts with taking your meds every day.”

She nodded. “I can agree to that.”

[canaryatlaw]

alright it’s past 1 am so I should get writing. today was alright. I woke up to a message that Jess woke up sick and might not be able to record our podcast episode tonight, so that ended up getting moved to tomorrow night. but yeah, I woke up to my alarm at 9:15 and got ready, heading to the bus around 9:45 (I don’t need a full half hour to get ready generally, but it’s always good to have extra time budgeted in in case something goes wrong. There was some serious roadwork going on on the street the bus was going down that caused it not to be in the lane actually by the bus stop, so I had get kind of creative to attract bus driver’s attention, there were two right together and thankfully the second one managed to stop and let me on. I took that a few stops north and then got off and waited for the other bus to take me west, which I ended up waiting for for about 8 minutes, not bad but it was still cold. that’s a bit of a longer ride, but still got me to the office in good time. Didn’t have to wait very long, got called in and basically said everything was good and I just needed refills, which is mostly true. I considered mentioning I’ve been kinda more depressed than normal lately but I know that’s totally situational due to me not having work to do and being alone all day, and honestly at this point I’m very, very hesitant to change my medications at all because last time we tried that it turned into a dumpster fire very quickly that left me unable to get out of bed most days for an entire month, and I’d really like to avoid that happening again. So that was easy enough. He wants me to try to phase off the xanax somewhat, so I’ve been trying to do that just a little at a time because I have issues sleeping without it. So that was a good appointment at least. Took the two buses back, ended up waiting for the second one for like 10 minutes this time which was not great but oh well. I got home and didn’t want to waste too much time since I had the job interview at 2, so I started doing my make up and then got all suited up and took an uber down to the loop at like 12:30, which gave me plenty of time, so I chilled in the corner bakery next door for a bit until it was time for the interview. I knew going in it wasn’t going to be a very strong prospect because they pretty much only do personal injury stuff and wanted some experience in that, and my experience in that is fairly limited. but we talked about my old job and the stuff I did with my dad and she was basically like “yeah, we’re really looking for someone who has some more substantive experience in the kind of cases we handle” which is totally understandable really but she was very nice about it and said she would hang on to my resume and if she heard of anyone wanting to hire someone with less experience she would pass it on to them, which she obviously didn’t have to do, so that was nice, and she also said I was a delight to interview, so that helped a bit, lol. I did an uber pool home because lazy, when I got home I changed out of the suit and into my comfy clothes again and settled on the couch to watch some of The Americans and work on some research for the podcast episode we’ll be recording tomorrow. Somewhere in that time I got a phone call from a lawyer who I did not immediately recall but we had traded like, two emails, and he was pretty interested in me so we talked for about 15 minutes or so culminating in setting up an interview for Thursday, which I know is an objectively good thing but like....I have so much anxiety about this because now that I know OPG is so close to being a reality I really don’t want to commit to another job and get screwed out of the job I really want. Plus he said to like “come prepared” to talk about how to handle cases because they were really looking for someone who they could hand cases off to and pretty much handle them by themselves, and I’m fairly hesitant to think that’s something I can really do, so that’s pretty anxiety inducing. But I mean I guess we’ll see what happens, if I bomb that part it won’t be an issue anyway, so we’ll see. Tuned into Arrow at 7, interesting episode, sad there was no Laurel  but the other plots were pretty decent, I’m definitely not a fan of Oliver’s “prison friend” so that was pretty creepy and I was mad Dinah got hurt, this better not cost her her canary cry or Imma be pissed. Then there was the whole William thing, not gonna lie when his grandparents showed up and they were like “we’re suing for guardianship” I got really excited and ready to legal geek out about this because like, previously my legal knowledge I’ve applied to the Arrowverse shows has been like, stuff I learned in crim pro, but this stuff is like MY SHIT, this is what I actually do, so I got all excited to legally geek out about it and talk about the burden of proving parental unfitness and how Oliver would probably be found presumptively unfit since he has been convicted of more than 3 felonies which creates a per se unfitness charge....but then that didn’t happen so I was a little sad about that, but I still had fun thinking about it (yes I know that’s not really something most people get excited thinking about, but I like it). And I’m sad we’re apparently losing Curtis, because he was great. As far as the “bombshell” revealed at the end of the episode, I actually got informed of that a few days ago, so I knew it was coming lol. Black Lightning was great, like I loved all of the episode, especially my girls Jen and Anissa so ready to kick ass and Jennifer just ready to take on the world to find Tobias and kick his ass and Anissa’s all like “you didn't think I was gonna let you go out alone, did you?” and I’m just like AHHH YES SISTERS. The plot with the pod kids was kinda hard to follow, I’m still confused as to the various ages of them, being that the one Tobias woke up seemed to be a full grown man (meaning they had grown while in the pods) but the one Lynn had the end was clearly still a child. So we’ll have to see where that goes. The Grace plot was pretty interesting too. And then there was the whole principal thing where I’m like, I know Jefferson had to do “the right thing” but like....I definitely want him to become principal again, lol. But yeah, good episode all around. After that I switched to Nailed it! Mexico which was fairly ridiculous and then switched over to the news and Jimmy Kimmel for a bit before deciding to shower and get ready for bed and now I’m here and it’s 1:31 am and suddenly I am REALLY sleepy, so I’m gonna end it here. Goodnight folks. Have a good one.