#i was having an intrusive thought so upsetting i had to google it to make sure it wasn’t just me

[fingertipsmp3]

About to bawl my fucking eyes out over this OCD blog I just found

[drunkfrogg]

time zones | charles leclerc

pairing: reader x charles leclerc

summary: different time zones keep getting in the way, and charles realises it isn't sustainable.

warnings: a little bit of angst never hurt anybody, did it?...right?!

note: first fic in a long time. enjoy! <3

MASTERLIST

7:02am.

Charles stared at the blurry numbers on his phone, squinting at the brightness of the screen and the sunlight pouring into his bedroom. He squeezed his eyes shut when he noticed the notifications from you. Three texts, two calls. All unanswered.

The first text, at 11:58pm.

I just finished work. I'll call you on the way home. Can't wait to hear your voice. I need it.

Charles' chest hurt. 11:58pm, minutes after he must have dozed off. He had tried so hard to keep his eyes open but his day had been so long and sleep was fighting a good battle against him.

At midnight is when the first missed call came through. It would've been 5pm for you. You would be getting out of work and Charles would be about to get into bed. You would've just got to your car, set up Google Maps, and called him. That was the only time you could find to chat to each other lately, and Charles had missed it.

Worse yet, he let you drive home with the disappointment of waiting all day to hear his voice, only to still be alone come night time.

Twenty six minutes later, at your 5:27pm and his 12:27am, the second text came through.

I made it home safe. I saw you got P2, congratulations! Very well deserved my love. Are you still awake?

That's when the next call came through.

Charles knew that you'd have been upset when he didn't answer. He knew you'd be holding back the intrusive thoughts. The what-ifs, the tears, the disappointment. It would have been keeping you up much later when you'd be trying to sleep. But he knew what was really eating at you was the hope that he would wake up and light up your phone with an incoming call.

He knew it was true when he saw the text at your 11:03pm and his 6:03am.

I think we've missed each other tonight. I was looking forward to hearing your voice, but I hope you celebrated that win well. Congratulations on P1 my love, well deserved. Goodnight.

He stared at the time of your last text, your 11:03pm and his 6:03am. One hour ago. You'd barely been asleep for an hour and here he was waking up to start his day. By the time you'd wake up, he'd be in meetings. By the time he'd get out, you'd be in work. By the time you'd finish, he'd be going to sleep.

Charles squeezed his eyes shut. Distance was never easy, but this wasn't the first time you'd missed your small window to talk to each other. It had been happening a lot lately. He knew it was hurting you because it was killing him.

He opened the tab on his phone of flights that neither of you could take. He was stuck where he was, and you were stuck elsewhere. There was never time. Something always changed the circumstances for the worse, and Charles sank his shoulders in defeat.

He deleted the tab on his phone.

Opening your messages, he sent his own reply.

Good morning, mon amour. I'm sorry we missed each other last night. I hope you're sleeping well. I'll call you after you finish work.

He stared at your missed calls again. There was nothing he could do except stare at them and wish they weren't real.

The alarms he forgot to set would have urged him out of bed over half an hour ago, and so he got himself up and dressed for the meeting he was about to be late to, but he couldn't open the door of his lifeless hotel room.

Guilt gnawed at his stomach. It wasn't fair of him to make you live this way for him. You deserved more than a short phone call every couple of days, and he realised that the only way for that to ever change was if you were here with him.

But he knew deep down that following him around the world wasn't what you wanted. While he could give you security, he couldn't give you stability. That's what you wanted more than anything, and that's when he finally realised, after suffering the long distance for so long, that there were two things in life that meant most to him.

The job and the girl.

He wanted both. But as he opened the door of his hotel room, he realised he could only have one. He had to pick. But he knew it wasn't really a choice. There was only one option.

And it wasn't the girl.

[upon-a-starry-night]

Number Neighbors Pt.9

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 745

Summary:  When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

---

You stirred your cup of freshly made coffee as you thought of how close you and Nat had gotten over the past few months. You’d just finished some mild cleaning and were taking a break to make your third cup of liquid energy. There was no way you’d normally have the energy to clean your apartment without caffeine, and honestly, you were considering switching to energy drinks, the taste of coffee was becoming too…bitter.

Although you had to admit at least the taste matched your mood. If your mother were here she would berate you for how much pacing you’ve been doing, but you couldn't help it. Every time you let yourself rest your thoughts drifted to Nat.

 You were worried you may have overstepped after your last conversation.

~

You and Nat had been texting over the weekend as you usually would when Nat expressed to you that her work was probably going to consume her for a while again this week, you outwardly groaned at the information. You knew that meant she probably wasn’t going to be able to text you the entire time. It always made you upset when you couldn’t text her, you wouldn’t ever admit how dependent you’d become on her presence out loud. 

This time though, as you lay on your bed under the covers as the city lit up with its usual Saturday night party-goers, you listened to the laughs of friend groups and couples outside of your window and you found yourself succumbing to your usual melancholy loneliness. It was that same hollow feeling and the thought of being virtually alone all week that led you to confess something you knew you probably shouldn’t have

       Nat🔪:

Y/n🍦: 

I wish I could hear your voice.

The thought occurred to you many times as your friendship progressed, along with other terribly intrusive thoughts about her appearance and whether or not she was as beautiful as you’d begun picturing her to be. Nat didn’t respond to your message for a while and it got to the point where you stopped staring at the gray “seen” on your phone and turned the TV on for some comfort. Anxiety began to creep into your blood and you realized after watching the credits roll on an episode that you’d not even been able to pay the TV any attention. 

You began to nervously pick at your skin, refusing to acknowledge the lump threatening to form in your throat. You’d googled so many times if it was appropriate to be so forward with online friends- Google the lying bastard told you it was common for online friends to send each other voice messages and even Facetime from time to time. 

You knew it would be different with Nat, everything was. But you guessed some stupid hopeful part of your brain thought maybe…

You’re forced out of your thoughts by the sound of your phone buzzing, you quickly grab it and unlock it, heart pounding in your ears as you stare at the new message

          Nat🔪:

Nat🔪:

You know I can’t do that.

It was such a simple message but it still made you ache all the same. You typed out a blank response and shut off your phone for the night, you doubted she was going to respond anyway.

Y/n🍦:

Yeah.

You fell asleep soon after that, missing the sound of your phone buzzing once more as you turned in bed.

Nat🔪:

I’m sorry.

That was the last message you’d gotten from Nat, and while you were broken up about it you were also salty. You didn’t text her on Sunday when you realized that it had always been you who texted first, and maybe it was petty but you wanted to see if she would reach out first for once. 

Your Sunday came and went without a single message. 

You called your mom just to have someone to talk to. You loved your apartment but lately, the space felt too empty and cold, maybe you should go buy a plant and get emotionally attached to that instead, people were too unpredictable. 

Especially your person

~

The rest of your week was quiet and boring, you knew Nat would be busy but you didn’t bother spamming her with memes and messages like you usually would. You looked around your clean apartment and sighed, downing the rest of your coffee. You picked up your keys, needing a distraction, at least you could go grocery shopping.

Pt.10

A/n: And now we get to the angsttt :(

~~~

@marvelwomen-simp @cd-4848 @wandanatlov3r @rebeltombraider @ctrlamira @fxckmiup @aliherreraaa @natsxwife @la-douler-ne-finite-jamais @romanoffsgal @moistblobfish

[ruminate88]

After I got away from Andrew and got married, I found it beyond difficult not to have intrusive or sexual thoughts about him. It made NO sense at the time. I was trying to hold it in and act natural with my new husband like, honeymoon is over. I’ve blocked Andrew’s number. I’m not even googling Andrew and yet he’s alllllll I freakin think about and when I try to focus on my husband and build this relationship with him, it’s nothing but Andrew on the brain. 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

Quickly I’m disconnected and think it’s my husband. I think he’s pushed me away but he accuses me of pushing HIM away. 🧐 Oh wow. I knew my husband had to threaten Andrew to leave me alone and he said Andrew looked like he was about to cry 😳😳 what does that even mean?? Why would Andrew cry??? After a summer of gaslighting me and hurting me beyond words. Consistently breaking my heart…. Why should HE cry? I was the one crying and shaking so hard he totally crushed me to pieces 💔💔

NOW it’s covid and when Florida stayed open, a lot of us took a trip there. I’m in this condo on the beach with my husband, some family and friends, and I’m getting dressed for dinner and as I’m looking in the mirror, fixing my hair, that was the first time my eyes opened and I saw that I was getting bald in one spot!’ HOW did I not see it before? I’ve looked back at older pictures. I was already going bald before Covid but my hair lady said Covid was stressing everybody out and making people lose hair, but I believe I was already losing hair because stress over Andrew and Cody.

I ran to my husband though and yelled out “ I’m losing hair!!!! Oh my gosh am I sick? Something wrong with me?” The whole time feeling disconnected and I can’t stop fantasizing about Andrew in the back of my head and I just can’t make sense of anything in my life. I’m trying to move on and be a good wife and I’m just frustrated because my husband is there and I can’t even hardly feel him or connect with him the way that I want to…. like, I’m I’m literally forcing it so hard ….

my husband also took me on my dream vacation because we saved so much money during Covid getting those two checks in the mail from the government and it was my dream vacation 😮😮😮 so I should’ve been the happiest person in the world and I wanted to be so badly and I wanted to be happy and I wanted to love and enjoy my husband but still, I feel very disconnected and I feel like he is not letting me connect to him, but it’s not him. He’s literally taking me on my fave vacation. He spent his hard-working money to give me that and I tried to be so grateful and I tried to make it a fun time , but deep inside of me I’m feeling so bad I can’t explain why !!! 😳😩

The first video I ever saw about emotional abuse, wow, I was able to ruminate and I was able to recall everything that happened with Andrew that I guess I was trying to ignore or I just couldn’t remember it. I don’t know still some things that I can’t remember conversations I had are still fuzzy cuz they were hurtful conversations!!! times when I’m begging him to pay me attention and he’s promising me that he wants to be with me but he’s just “busy with school” he keeps abandoning me, ignoring me, I so feel bad and he’s making me feel stressed out because he says that he’s so stressed out with school …. And some how he takes it out on me. “I’m not helping”. He keeps saying I’m making it all worse when I all I wanted was to love him so much….

The more that I learn about emotional abuse, the more it hurts my feelings and upsets me. And I think that’s why I feel so “indifferent“ these days. I mean, can’t change the past, I forgive my exes. I don’t want anything from them and I don’t want them to pay or owe me anything but they still keep hurting my feelings just thinking about them constantly and I just don’t understand it but I know it happens to people. I know that it’s life, trauma and I feel awful for them, but I feel awful for myself too. I’m trying NOT to beat myself up, but I always do. I always feel guilty when I talk about them because it makes me feel like I’m not getting over them or giving them grace , I want a peaceful life and I feel like my life is way more calm than it ever was but also feeling indifferent. Makes me feel like eh, just wanna sit here and chill and be left alone. No one bother me please please just no one bother me. I don’t wanna upset anyone else.

I can’t get comfortable enough to talk to my husband about everything going on inside of me, but I don’t want him to be upset or stressed. I just want him to calm down and just let it be!!!! he stresses over our money and that makes me feel bad because it makes me think of how Andrew was so stressed and nothing I did or said made him happy or made him wanna treat me good OR make him love me back. Andrew was always going to hurt me and abuse me, no matter what! that’s why I had to block his number without even knowing it was abuse back then, I knew that he was mistreating me. And I am beyond an apology from him now, I’m not expecting him to come and apologize… I wouldn’t even believe it if he did, I don’t know how to make it all better. I know it’s all over and in the past and I know by keeping Andrew‘s number blocked that he can’t continue to bother me so much, but he still does bother me in the back of my mind because I always think of his face and I wanna see his face so bad in real life. The moment I walk out of my house, I’m searching for him and I don’t know why because I don’t have anything to say to his face without falling apart! 🫣🫣❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

IF Andrew was standing before me right now. I would be a total mess and I would probably fall on my face and just sob…. I don’t hate him but I know he can never love me back so I feel like loving him IS for nothing and that sucks.

[xxlethal-lunaxx]

Ocd having me at the clutches and I wanna escape but I'm so scared of loosing compulsions and habits I've had for so long.

One of my biggest compulsions that I'd do sometimes since 13 is going to google/quora/reddit to "be prepared" for the scary situations i "could" go through (me just seeking reassurance by searching solutions for my intrusive thoughts). Whether its health anxiety or fear of me doing those morally wrong things, I will go to search what to do or how to prevent it. It didn't become a problem or chronic until early last year (2023), now I'm having a hard time preventing myself from searching the simplest shit and I feel embarrassed and crazy.

- (Example)

Me: *Brain plays long detailed scenario where I am with friends, I'm so happy, going places like the mall and feeling safe to be myself then suddenly I'm hated by them, or they laugh at me, or they find out my mistakes or the things I feel horrible about from my past. Or maybe it will just be me yelling and treating my friends/mutuals like shit and ruining the love I have* (this will play over and over again in my head as I try to tell myself its all fake and negative, that it wouldn't happen and that if it did who cares cause its not happening at the moment. Telling myself that I would never treat my friends bad because I would never want to hurt anybody.)

Me: *goes to google and searches "what should I do if my friends abandon me at a mall?", "how to tell if im being a burden to my friends", "how to tell if my friend is pretending to like me?" "How to tell my friends about my mental health without coming across as trauma dumping"* (A process which is not only exhausting but very repetitive. I will search these things to reassure myself and be prepared and see other experiences online for if it happens to me I can be "safe". It can be any topic and I will search and go on quora, it can take hours of my days. Days in a row I'll research the same shit and keep reading the same answered responses on quora hoping that I'll somehow find the answers I seek, to just end my anxiety and doubts but it never happens. I only found out a couple weeks ago that this was a compulsion and I've been working so hard on it but I'm scared to let it go cause the fear of the unknown is too much for me, I'm used to reading the things online and searching stuff....I'm trying so hard to just go cold turkey on it, but I'm scared I'll miss it too much or that somehow something bad will happen. The joy of ocd -_- This disorder is hell but I want to take my life back, living with this for slightly over a decade has not been fun and I rather have the pain of treatment then continue the suffering of endless reassurance seeking.)

I know my friends love me and that I overthink due to trauma responses and ocd, its terrifying to be uncertain in life....I know its not easy for anyone but having a disorder that eats at me, convincing me that im a horrible person or crazy is genuine hell. I do my best to not seek reassurance from friends because its not their fault my brain works like this, I don't want people thinking I don't have trust in them...I really do love my friends deeply, I'm just afraid of being hurt and its so stupid cause I've never been given any reasons to feel this way in any of my current friendships but the memories of past friendships makes my mind obsess over being certain on everything when life doesn't work like that. I do my best to be mindful and tell myself "how did they act when we last spoke?, did they seem upset? No?.... then everything is fine", I will look at old memories and messages to remind myself that its all okay and that I need to trust my own judgment more instead of my intrusive thoughts, because they are not me!

Anyway yeaaa its late but I can't sleep cause my brain just wants to keep researching how to fix problems instead of accept the uncertainty. I know someday I'll get better and not struggle with this as much but for now I am taking it one day at a time hoping that nobody grows tired of me, my trauma responses, and ocd.

I'm proud i can be where I'm at now, it doesn't seem like alot but compared to 2022 I'm better at knowing when scenarios are fake (yes....I used to genuinely think I was hated or being annoying because of my thoughts in 2022 and would obsessively ask the person as a form of seeking reassurance).

[tea-with-evan-and-me]

ok pls no one be mean im autistic and have trouble knowing whats ok or not (with things like this), so im asking. if i did happen to find evan's address online would it be wrong to send a simple letter? not like a love confession or anything, just average compliments and congrats and stuff. but do you think it'd be crossing a line or make him upset?

hello! first of all, thank you for asking this question :) it shows that you have given thought to whether or not something like this could be intrusive and you don't want to impose, which is important, because we all should want to respect evan's privacy.. and quite frankly, his basic human right to just exist without people pestering him. below i'm going to share some thoughts, not targeted to you, but just in general about this subject, since i'm sure that over the years there have been many people who have had similar questions in their mind about propriety, but just powered through them to get close to a celebrity they liked.

the simple answer is: yes, it would be crossing a line for someone to do that. just because his address is publicly available, does not mean that anyone should be trying to send him things, or... y'know, visiting him. he didn't put it out there himself so he could receive fanmail or gifts. i know some people understandably have reservations about even having the discussion on this blog. if information was not openly available, and finding it really required some crazy, stalker level sleuthing.. we wouldn't be having this conversation, i promise.

the internet is a blessing and a curse, in the sense that once something is out there, good luck trying to erase it if someone really wants to find it. and if you try to conceal it, well.. google ''the streisand effect''. all that to say, not just when thinking about something like where evan lives... let's all remember that evan is just a regular guy, a person like any of us. he lives a very lowkey and private life. we need to respect our place in his ''life'' as fans who all share a fondness for him and don't want to cause him any upset. he does not want to see any of us at his door, dropping mail in his mailbox, or skulking around his favorite coffee shop to try and say hi.

i best not find out any of my followers end up with a restraining order against them for bothering thee evan peters!

[bpro-cardstories]

Ryuji Korekuni SSR

2017 ー Flower Garden [Flower Garden]

"Geez….. It’s not like all sweets get you back in a good mood."

Part 1

ーIn the meeting room.ー

Ryuji: ‘…..…..’

(Ryuji-kun somehow doesn’t look well….. Maybe he’s exhausted, because the schedule was packed these days?)

Ryuji (sighs): ‘….. Haa.’

Tsubasa: ‘Uhm, are you fine?’

Ryuji: ‘….. Yeah. I’m just a bit sleep-deprived. Work has been going until late, so we’ve been coming home at midnight recently. My mind and body are so agitated after the recording, that I can’t really fall asleep.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘That sounds hard…..’ 

Ryuji: ‘Well, when we are finished, we can go home. But the staff has to work until even later, so I won’t complain.’ 

Tomohisa (smiles): ‘And besides, it makes us happy when it’s busy.’ 

Ryuji (smiles): ‘Now that you mention it, I heard some unusual work came in.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Ah, yes! An offer to appear at the Flower Garden opening ceremony came in.’ 

Tomohisa: ‘Does it include singing?’

Tsubasa: ‘Yes, it does.’ 

Tomohisa: ‘Hee, how nice. To be able to sing at something like the Flower Garden sounds romantic.’ 

Ryuji: ‘Hmm…..’ 

Tomohisa: ‘Oh, Ryuji doesn’t seem to be attracted to it?’ 

Ryuji (shakes head): ‘It’s not like that…..’

(Ryuji-kun looks depressed. And seems to be quite tired…..)

Tsubasa: ‘….. Ah! It looks like you will be able to eat plenty of sweets made by a famous hotel pastry chef at the ceremony!’

Tomohisa (smiles): ‘Look, did it catch your interest a bit?’ 

Ryuji (upset): ‘Geez….. It’s not like all sweets get you back in a good mood.’ 

Tomohisa (smiles): ‘Hmm. You seem to be in a pretty bad temper today.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘…..’

(I would like to adjust their schedule in some way, but it seems difficult for a while…..)

Part 2

ーAnother day.ー

(I wonder if the rehearsal for the ceremony is already over? I hope Ryuji-kun is in a better mood…..)

Tsubasa: ‘Hello!’

Ryuji: ‘Oh, Tsubasa, hi.’

Tsubasa: ‘I was able to make a bit of time, so I came to see how you are doing. Here are some refreshments.’ 

Ryuji: ‘! This is…..’

Tsubasa: ‘The pudding from Ryuji-kun’s favourite store!’

Ryuji: ‘…..!’

Tomohisa: ‘Fufu. Good for you, Ryuji.’

Ryuji (smiles): ‘Just when I thought I wanted to eat something sweet. Aren’t you thoughtful, Tsubasa.’

Tomohisa: ‘Ryuji, that’s where you genuinely say thank you, right?’

Ryuji: ‘Uh….. I was about to do that now!’

Ryuji (blushes): ‘….. Thanks.’

Tsubasa: ‘Fufufu, I am glad you were pleased about it.’ 

Ryuji: ‘Since you’re already here, should we eat it together?’

Tsubasa: ‘Yes, thank you very much.’ 

Ryuji: ‘I wonder what flavour should I go with~ ♪.’ 

(I’m glad. His good mood is all back.)  

Tsubasa: ‘Did the rehearsal go well?’

Ryuji: ‘Of course. I was talking with Tomo about how good it feels.’ 

Tomohisa: ‘You don’t need to worry about the performance, it’s going to be fine. Ryuji’s bad temper has also been fixed in this way.’ 

Ryuji: ‘Pah. I’m always in a good mood though?’ 

Tomohisa: ‘Fufu, you’re right.’ 

Ryuji (winks): ‘Tsubasa, we’ll deliver the best performance, so make sure you have your eyes on us.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Yes! I am looking forward to it.’ 

(Ryuji-kun is so energetic, he does love to stand on the stage after all.)

Part 3

ーThe day of the performance. In the waiting room.ー

Yuta: ‘Ah, it’s Tsubasa-chan! Yahoo!’

Tsubasa: ‘This is where everyone is. Hello!’

Ryuji: ‘…..….. Hello.’

Tsubasa: ‘….. Eh, eh…..?’

(Ryuji-kun is back in a bad mood again…..?)

Tsubasa: ‘Is something wrong?’

Ryuji: ‘….. Not really.’

(Th-The air’s heavy…..!)

Yuta comes closer.

Yuta: ‘Tsubasa-chan, Tsubasa-chan.’

Tsubasa: ‘?’

Yuta: ‘You know, earlier at the venue we met the big people from the organizing. It was only for a bit, but it looks like he was told something mean.’

ーFlashback.ー

Staff: ‘Oh~, it’s you two from KitaKore. Kitakado-kun looks like a prince, so I thought you would certainly be the same type, too….. But you’re a princess, if I had to say so.’ 

Staff: ‘How about trying out women's clothes? It might have some impact? Come on, genderless is in fashion now.’ 

ーEnd of flashback.ー

Tsubasa: ‘How terrible…..’

Yuta: ‘I think the other person didn’t really say it with bad intentions maybe, but…..’ 

Ryuji: ‘Wait, Yuta, what are you telling on me there. Didn’t I say that I didn’t mind it?’

Yuta: ‘But Ryu-chan…..’

Ryuji: ‘That often happens. If I would take that seriously every time, there would be no end to it.’ 

Yuta: ‘Y-Yeah…..’

(That’s Ryuji-kun for you. Just as I thought, because he’s been doing this work since he was a child his reaction sure is mature.)

Ryuji: ‘…..’

Yuta: ‘…..’

(But, the atmosphere is heavy in the end….. That’s not good before the performance.)

The door opens.

Tomohisa: ‘Ryuji, can I have a minute?’

Ryuji: ‘Tomo. What’s wrong?’

Tomohisa (smiles): ‘What could this be?’

Ryuji: ‘What do you mean, it’s obvious just by looking. It’s a macaron, right?’

Tomohisa: ‘It’s alright, so open your mouth. ….. Here, aaah.’

Ryuji: ‘Aaah…..’

Ryuji: ‘….. Nhhn!’

Ryuji: ‘That’s!’

Tomohisa: ‘Fufu, did you figure it out? A macaron from “him” whom Ryuji loves so much. I asked the people at the venue for this favour.’

Ryuji: ‘To think I’d be able to eat it here…..!’

Ryuji: ‘Could it be that he’s here at the venue?’

Tomohisa: ‘No, it’s a shame, but this time it’s only the sweets. But he said that he’s looking forward to the broadcasting of the performance.’

Ryuji: ‘I see.’

Ryuji: ‘Aah, this taste….. It hasn't changed since back then.’

Yuta: ‘Hey, hey, Ryu-chan! Give me one, too!’

Ryuji (laughs): ‘Eh~? What do I do now, hm.’ 

Yuta: ‘Waah, don’t be a bully~~!’

Tsubasa: ‘Fufufu.’

(I’m relieved. The atmosphere around Ryuji-kun instantly brightened.)

Tomohisa: ‘Fufu, in the end Ryuji’s special medicine is sweets.’ 

Part 4

ーAfter the end of the ceremony.ー

Tsubasa: ‘Everyone, good work! It was a really wonderful ceremony.’

Tomohisa: ‘Thank you. It’s been a while since we sang outside, so we also enjoyed it.’ 

Ryuji: ‘Yep. I enjoyed that kind of party for the first time in a while.’ 

Tomohisa: ‘And, there was also an unexpected surprise, no?’ 

Ryuji: ‘Yes, yes, definitely! I didn’t think I would be able to eat “that person’s” sweets.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Uhm, “that person”…..? Is he an acquaintance of you two?’ 

Tomohisa: ‘To be honest, yes. The pastry chef, who was in charge of the sweets for the ceremony today, is someone we've been indebted to since we were children.’ 

Ryuji: ‘He’s the pastry chef purveyor to the Kitakado household and on parties or special events his sweets were always part of them.’

Tsubasa: ‘I understand.’ 

Ryuji: ‘Especially his macarons are masterpieces. During our Bambi time we both often asked him to make all kinds of sweets for us.’ 

Tomohisa: ‘Though they were mostly Ryuji’s requests.’

Ryuji: ‘Eh, was it so? Didn’t Tomo also want to eat things like Simmered Taro in Sweetened Soy Sauce* or asked for something different than sweets?’ 

Tomohisa: ‘Ahaha, that might be so. You remembered that well.’

Ryuji: ‘But all of them were delicious.’

Tsubasa: ‘Fufu, you do love him a lot.’

Tomohisa: ‘We will introduce him to Tsubasa next time.’

Tomohisa: ‘Before I forget, would you come to our apartment on our free day?’

Ryuji: ‘That sounds great! Because we were busy these days we weren’t able to visit the store, so we’ll ask him to make us lots of sweets ♪.’ 

Tomohisa: ‘Yeah, we will contact you.’ 

Part 5

ーA few days later. In the evening.ー

(The previous location dragged on, so I arrived later than the promised time unfortunately…..)

______

The doorbell rings.

Tomohisa: ‘Hello, Tsubasa. Come in.’

Tsubasa: ‘Hello! I am terribly sorry for my lateness.’

Tomohisa: ‘It’s fine. Now, come into the living room.’

Tsubasa: ‘Yes, excuse me for the intrusion.’

Tsubasa: ‘…..?’

(It smells sweet here…..)

Ryuji: ‘Ah, you finally came.’

Tsubasa: ‘I am sorry to have kept you waiting.’

Ryuji (sighs): ‘Really. I was getting tired of waiting.’

Ryuji (smiles): ‘Come on, sit down already!’

Tsubasa: ‘Y-Yes.’

(I wonder what’s wrong, Ryuji-kun is strangely in a good mood…..?)

Tsubasa: ‘Ryuji-kun, did something happen?’

Tomohisa: ‘Fufu, I wonder?’

Ryuji: ‘Tsubasa!’

Tsubasa: ‘Yes.’

Ryuji: ‘Open your mouth! Here, aaahh.’

Tsubasa: ‘Eh!? ….. Nhmm.’

Ryuji: ‘How is it? This cupcake is from the pastry chef’s store we talked about the other day. Delicious, right?’

Tsubasa: ‘Nn….., very delicious!’

Ryuji: ‘I know, right! There are also cookies and madeleines. Eat away.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Thank you very much. But, why suddenly…..?’

Ryuji: ‘F-For no reason, really. I just bought them, because I was craving some sweets after I ate the ones at the ceremony last time!’

Tomohisa: ‘Oh, that’s weird? What I heard was surely to make them togeーー’

Ryuji (blushes): ‘Wait, Tomo! Don’t say unnecessary things.’

Tsubasa: ‘…..?’

Ryuji: ‘…..They are just a thank you….. for always taking care of all kinds of….. Things for us…..!’

Tsubasa: ‘! Th-Thank you very much…..! That makes me happy.’

Ryuji: ‘Ngh! I mean, Tsubasa might as well also eat them! It's me who wanted to eat them, that’s the main point here!’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Yes! But I am still happy!’

Tomohisa (winks): ‘Fufufu, then shall we have a tea party today?’

END

______________________

* Simmered Taro in Sweetened Soy Sauce (里芋の煮っころがし・さといものにっころがし): This took me some time to find since it’s a specific dish. Ryuji only used 煮っころがし (Sweetened Soy Sauce) actually, but Google gave me videos and images of the Taro version. It sounds a bit strange to me to only use the soy sauce part, so I included the full name of the dish.   

[c4ts4ndstuff]

i felt the sudden urge the other night to write down my testimony, so here goes!

tw religious OCD and tw suicidal ideation under the read more

mine’s a little odd, because i’m not 100% exactly sure when i was saved, and i know that sounds bad.

i was raised in a Christian family, my Dad’s been a pastor my whole life. i prayed to God asking him to forgive me of my sins when i was about...6-7ish.

one night when i was about 14 i started thinking of how God is serious. with God you’re either fully with him, or against him. there is no middle ground. i realized i had to make a decision. did i want to live life doing whatever i wanted, and be separated from God, or did i want to follow God? i decided i wanted to follow God, and got baptized soon afterwards. i then started to read the Bible, pray, and God started convicting me of my sins.

things then started to get messed up in my head in the months leading to my 16th birthday. see, i was born with an extra pathway in my heart, and at  random times my heart would start to use that extra pathway instead of the normal one. which doesn’t sound like a big deal, but the extra pathway was like a shortcut, and my heart would get stuck in a new, shorter rhythm. so even if i was just sitting in a chair my heart would start to beat super hard and fast, like i was being chased by zombies. while i would experience this every so often growing up, i never made a big fuss over it and would normally just try to go lie down somewhere until it passed and my heart was beating like normal. in the months leading up to my 16th birthday however, it started happening on a monthly basis. it took a few months for me to be able to see a doctor, and during that time i worried. a lot. i was scared that during an episode, my heart was going to burst and i’d die. all this thinking of death had me worrying, what if i wasn’t saved?

just a month after my 16th birthday i was able to have an procedure done on my heart, and it fixed things physically.

mentally though, i kept worrying over my salvation. i kept looking up over and over how to be saved, i would pray again asking God to forgive me, and then i’d feel better. until a few months i’d worry again, then it’d only be a few weeks, and then it was just days before i’d start to worry again.

with all the times that i’d ask God to save me, i wasn’t sure when i had really been saved, if i had been saved at all. not being sure of when i was saved just added fuel to the fire, because how could i be saved and not know when it happened?

i know now that i have OCD, but it took me a while to figure that out.

i also started to get these weird “convictions” (AKA OCD was messing with me). i couldn’t use the 6th slot in the Minecraft hotbar, because it was so close to 666, the mark of the beast. i started to feel anxious over different series i liked. i thought the anxiety was God telling me not to engage with these different shows, so to make the feeling go away i promised God i would avoid these shows. it worked... for a while. the third time that happened i didn’t get any relief after making the promise, and i think that’s what led to happened next.

i was about 18, and i was scrolling through tumblr completely fine. but then a thought suddenly popped up: “what if God asked me to give up fiction?” that one, simple sentence managed to torture me for almost six months. i’ve always loved reading, and watching TV. i’ve just always loved stories, and the thought of not being able to even think about a story (because my mind instantly took it to the most extreme level), upset me. and before i knew it the thought had gotten twisted up in my head, and i thought God had asked me to give up fiction.

eventually video games got lumped into that, and without any way to distract myself all i could do was obsess.

i obsessed over whether God really wanted me to give up fiction, over whether or not i was saved, and over whether the simplest of things were sinful or not.

i struggled so much with this, and i was miserable. which then added the icing on the cake, where how could i be saved if i was feeling so miserable and upset over something God might have asked me to do?

when i was at one of my lowest points and i was struggling so much with going back and forth on my salvation (not just whether or not i was saved, but if i had been saved once and then lost it), i prayed to God asking him to kill me if i wasn’t ever going to be saved, because at least in hell i wouldn’t have to worry about my salvation.

I was terrified of sinning. I was so scared, i would obsess over whether the weirdest things were sins, or somehow start to think i was doing things in a sinful way, even things like breathing.

i’ve struggled with intrusive thoughts to an extent for years, but this point they were really upsetting me. inappropriate images and curse words would just pop into my head. i was in agony because even though i didn’t want those thoughts, i thought it was a sin for them to even appear in my head. so whenever one would pop into my head, i would stop what i was doing and ask God for forgiveness. however all this just gave the thoughts more focus, and caused them to appear even more. no matter how hard i tried, i couldn’t prevent the thoughts from appearing.

however when looking up something to help with the intrusive thoughts, i found out about religious OCD, which gave me something to work with.

i would google my obsessions, but then i started adding “OCD” to the end. and with that  i started finding so many people who were experiencing things just like me, people who struggled over their salvation, over different convictions they weren’t sure they had to follow.

i still struggled for a while, but now i had hope that maybe things weren’t as bad as they seemed.

a couple months after that (for a total of almost six months since i really started to spiral) i had a breakthrough.

i knew at the time i wasn’t doing great mentally, and probably had OCD (but still hadn’t fully accepted it yet), but one day things just... clicked for me. God gave me a moment of clarity, and i was able to realize that God was okay with me enjoying fiction. and i was able to have some peace, and i knew i was saved.

i was not cured. i’m not sure it was even a whole day before i started worrying again over if maybe i was wrong and i still shouldn’t enjoy fiction. but God gave me the strength to hold onto that moment of clarity, and i was able to make it through. and with being able to basically have fun again, i was able to distract myself instead of obsessing over all my worries 24/7. i was able to eventually sleep through the night again.

it’s been a couple years now, and i still struggle with various obsessions. every few months or so i’ll spiral again. i’ll be afraid i’m sinning by reading, i’ll start to worry about my salvation again, i’ll worry about the promises i made because of my OCD. a lot of times i can practically feel different obsessions hiding behind a corner, waiting for the right moment to strike. i’ve gotten better though about recognizing them for what they are, so even though sometimes something will stick in my head for months, other times it’s just for a few minutes.

i could not have done this without God, even though my OCD tried to twist me away from him.

if any of this sounds familiar to you, PLEASE look up scrupulosity/religious OCD, or message me and i’ll send you some resources! you’re not alone ❤

[baka-monarch]

What The Fuck!?

(A.N: before we start with the story I just wanna say that this is based off of this post by @lance-alt​ . Also, alot of creators on here got mentioned in the story, like actual mentions so if you got mentioned just know that I love what you create and wanted to include you because I love your interpretations of the sides, and you do not have to read this at all if you don’t want to and if you want me to take you out of the story please DM me and tell me so that I can)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: SLIGHT MENTION OF VORE FOR LIKE TWO SECONDS, MENTION OF USYEMPETHETIC SIDES, SHITTING N SOME HEADCANONS EVEN THOUGH I MYSELF LOVE THEM

The Sides are lost. They find themselves in a familiar and yet unknown place.

They will soon find someone dark. And someone far too shiny and bright… Too innocent.

The Sides meet…

their fanon-selves.

 ...

 It had started like any normal day. The sides existing as a part of Thomas, helping him with his daily dilemmas, the usual things. Until Thomas took a nap. Then the sides suddenly found themselves in a white void. It wasn’t a dream, they could confirm that much from the other dreams that Thomas had. Also from the confused looks on the twin’s faces who were in charge of dreams, like how Remus had caused Thomas’ nightmare that they had disgusted in Dealing With Intrusive Thoughts.

“Where are we?” Logan spoke up, voicing everyone’s concerns.

“Wherever it is, Thomas has never thought about it before.” Roman muttered as he glanced around.

“Yeah, I know his brains can be scooped out at times, but not even he can have a mind this empty.” At Remus’ comment, most of the others cringed in varying degrees, with Logan being the only one unaffected, only rolling his eyes in annoyance.

“Although your metaphor usage could use some work, you are correct. This place is too empty to be a part of Thomas.” Logan conceded.

“If this isn’t Thomas...then where are we?” Virgil gleaned around wearily, trying to come up with his own explanation for this situation.

“It’s really blank here...maybe Thomas is in a coma?” Roman tried, to which Virgil’s eyes widened.

“Impossible, how would we be active if he is not?” Logan debated.

“I don’t know! Do you have any ideas, Sherlock Drones?” Roman rebutted, causing Logan to roll his eyes and fix his glasses.

“Unfortunately, no. There is not enough evidence...anywhere to make a proper inference on the situation.” Logan finished adjusting his glasses by the time he finished, gaining an annoyed huff from Roman.

“Heya, kiddos? Maybe we shouldn’t argue. We’re all confused right now, and getting upset isn’t going to get us anywhere.” Patton butted in to make sure things didn’t escalate.

“Thank you, Patton.” Logan gave a curt nod of agreement.

“Fiiiine!” Roman whined after a bit.

“It would be wise to explore, to see if we can find any clues as to where we are.”

“I’ll do it!” Remus jumped in. “Who knows, maybe we all died a gruesome death!” He cackled.

“No need.” Janus approached the group from behind, having already explored himself. “Look behind us.” When turning the sides were surprised to find the area behind them was not all whit. On it there were words like what one would find in a google doc currently describing their situation as they lived through it. 

“What the fuck?” Virgil muttered. He had a Tumb.lr so he knew what fanfiction was, and this looked like it. “This can’t be happening…” He groaned, knowing it was happening.

“Aw, they’re writing about us Virge! Like the people on that one app you use.” Patton cooed, only knowing of the fluff part of fanon.

“Pat, you don’t understand. This isn’t good.”

“Oh nonsense kiddo.” Patton dismissed. “Have you guys seen the art they draw of us? It’s so cute!” Virgil internally cringed knowing that not all of it was like that.

“Either way,”-Janus cut off their small conversation.-“We need to find a way out of here.” Janus focused slightly more on Virgil for his next comment. “Whether this is real or not.” Virgil shivered at the thought of them not being real, or even acting like they do in the things that people create. 

Everyone agreed, and soon they were on their way to explore this strange new environment.

 …

 Soon enough, however, the sides are lost. Which brings us back to where this story began. As they searched for their original location, or even the mysterious floating words, they come upon a familiar and yet unknown place. It looks strikingly like a Disney movie kingdom. With one half, filled with bright colors, lush fields, enchanting forests, and a large white castle with a red roof. The other half being dark and dangerous, the colors fading, plants rotting, instead of animals there only creatures of unknown origin, and in the middle, a black, crumbling, castle, with striking green roofing. It was almost as if...it were made for the twins.

In fact, as they got closer they could hear two far off shouts, with simultaneous silhouettes, motioning towards them, as if pointing them out to someone...or something, else.

“Uh...guys?” Virgil trailed off wondering if the others had noticed.

“On it.” Romas was quick to pull out his sword, Remus quickly following suit with his morning star.

It was unnecessary however, as once the silhouettes were in view, they looked exactly like the twins. 

“Wha…” Roman lowered his sword as he saw this. As they got closer more figures came into view. All of which looked like the sides to varying degrees. There were thousands. Some were small, some were even giants, and there were alot that weren’t even human.

“Oh! Hi there kiddos!” A Patton(?) came running past the twin’s doppelgangers. “You’re probably really confused right now, I know alot of us were when we appeared!” The sides just looked at the Patton look-alike  dumbfounded. The first to break out of it was Logan.

“I do not wish to appear rude, but, who are you and where are we?” Logan queried.

“Oh, I’m Patton by @baka-monarch !” Patton chirped. “And you’re in The Imagination!”

“The what now-?” “How did you-?” Both Roman and Virgil asked at the same time.

“Hm?” The other Patton tilted his head confused.

“One at a time now kiddos…” Their Patton silently reminded them. Roman nodded to Virgil to let him go first.

Virgil inhaled, taking his cue. “How did you say a mention? That only works when typed in social medias.” Virgil wondered confused.

“Oh! That’s just my fander creator kiddo!” This Patton didn’t miss a beat as he answered happily. Virgil stared at him blankly as he came to a horrifying conclusion.

“We’re in a f*****g fanfiction.” He jumped slightly at his bleep out. “What was that?”

“Oh, Jan Jan did that I wouldn’t have to hear any vulgar language.” All of them looked back at Janus who looked forward, uninterested, definitely trying not to hide his embarrassment at what this other him did, definitely not. 

“...Okay… My turn!” Roman exclaimed. “What is “the Imagination”?” He used air quotes.

“Yeah, I was wondering that too, Mr. The 6th Day clone.” Remus added.

“Oh! Don’t you know? It’s the place you and Roman can go to to summon anything.You can even change the entire world around you!” Patclone chirped.

“What.” They all said in unison with worry, apart from the twins who were excited.

“Yeah! Isn’t it cool!” Patclone said oblivious to the consequences of the twins having this power could cause. “Oh yeah, do you want me to introduce you to everyone?”

“Please, I am intrigued about how our counterparts might act.” Logan conceded.

“Okie dokie then! Follow me!”

 …

 It had been a few hours at this point and they still weren’t even an eighth of the way through yet. There were so many headcanons, variations, AUs, OCs, OOCs, designs, everything. It was almost too much to handle.

“-this is @tscampfireau ‘s sides from their au-” The Virgil hissed and bit towards them as they almost walked on their pentagram that they were making out of… was that blood? The Patton and Logan were helping them by t-posing as a barrier against the other sides. “-yeah they can be a...fun bunch to hang out with. Oh, and here’s @bleepblopbloop56 ‘s sides.”

“How, and why are they hotter than us..?” Roman mumbled to Virgil, only getting a weird look in response.

“Then there’s @mango-shpango ‘s and @rondoel ‘s ones, he’s got a lot-” Patclone shrugged it off, but King caught all of their eyes. He didn’t have to look like the one they knew for them to know who it was… “Oh, hey there @that-prey-lounge and @tiny-peter-rabbit ‘s sides!” He greeted them. As they turned a corner there was a group of sides that were made of metal like robots. “Oh, there’s @burnadolt ‘s fnaf au!” He waved. As they approached a tavern the last group greeted was, “Heya @nommy-thoughts ‘ sides, how are you adjusting?” there were several positive responses from many of them, and as the sides looked closer they could see that a few were smaller than a human hand not only that but nearby (possibly made by someone else), were the sides they’d seen from afar earlier that were giants.. They hadn't noticed them yet here because of how closely compact the buildings were and how their size made what was visible from their perspective look like buildings.

As they all entered the tavern, they saw that there was only one group of sides here. “Hiya guys! New sides I’d like you to meet @baka-monarch ‘s group.” There were several different hellos. “And my friends, I’d like you to meet… to meet..? I’m sorry but who’s your creator?” Virgil was the one to answer.

“@thatstha-MMPH!” Virgil was only part of the way through before the other’s Janus made him slap his hand over his mouth as the other sides in the room went pale. “What was that for?” Virgil asked, his voice muffled by his hand.

“You can’t say his name. Not here.” Patclone explained cryptid. They all fell into an awkward silence, until Roman changed the subject.

“Why are there...two of you?” Roman observed.

“Oh!” Patclone chirped. “I was created just for this au! Just so I could be your guide!” He paused for a moment thinking before continuing. “I guess I’m like the Monika of this world.” Again, everyone paled, some not understanding, others...understanding too well. “Welp, I guess you want to go explore now! Jan Jan, do you and Patty wanna go have fun while they look around?” Both mentioned sides blushed.

“I told you not to call me that…” Janus mumbled as he took Patclone’s hand and the other Patton stood up to quickly join them as they went off to a separate room.

 …

 Only an hour had passed and the sides had already split off into groups with their counterparts. The Roman’s comforting each other while being completely random, some of them being sad little puffballs that the strong egotistic Roman’s had decided to protect, while others were a mix or just completely unsympathetic and degrading anyone the came in contact with, especially the Virgils. Virgil had kind of separated himself from the other Virgils since 90% of them were cowering away from everything and just having constant anxiety attacks, while the few who were different either had power that they abused, or were fawning over the other sides. The Logans had formed an army of science lead by the Logan from @askdarksidelogan and the other dark sides from his au, this Logan was very robotic looking, cruel, and unfeeling...well, almost unfeeling as the Deceit from his au was his boyfriend and the Remus was really close friends with him. Janus was busy trying to coral in all his different counterparts as some of them made plans to kill everyone around them and end the government, while others were hiding due to PTSD about the angst they have been through. The Remuses just vibed in their corner, killing, being gross, and annoying the other aspects. Finally the Pattons. Patton had basically adopted the ones that were child-like and too innocent for their own good while avoiding the unsympathetics that were teaming up with other unsympathetics and the ones who were...horny… Actually everyone was avoiding the horny ones.

But that was just the simplified version of the chaos. Logans were capturing people to test, Deceits were arguing over their name even though one was already canon, Romans were either being complete idiots or crying silently to themselves, while they were targeted by the unsympathetics along with the Virgils, everyone too scared to even try to tussle with the army of Logans.

Virgil sat back on a hill and watched it all unfold. How had the community gotten this far without this much chaos? He had no idea. A few other counterparts were up there with him but he didn’t mind since they mostly seemed chill. A Virgil approached and sat down next to him exhausted, and judging by the paint he was covered in he had just come from the Romans’ corner.

“Romans a little too much?” Virgil tried making conversation.

“Yeah…” He breathed. “It was getting a little too rowdy and I wanted to get my Roman out of there so he wouldn’t get hurt.” With no Roman in sight, Virgil assumed that he had been unsuccessful.

“So, which Roman is yours?” Virgil wondered.

“Hm?” The counterpart tilted his head confused until it clicked. “Oh, no, he’s not down there right now.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny Roman. “See.”

“Oh…” Virgil was at a loss of words. What does a person say to that? After that they just sat there in silence as Virgil’s counterpart and the Roman snuggled slightly through a hand to body contact. 

“So…” Virgil decided to try again. “What’s it like, y’know, being shipped?” Virgil wondered, seeing how it seemed these two were in some kind of relationship. Virgil had always found it kind of weird, but, maybe there was more to it…

“I mean, it’s like any other relationship I guess… falling in love and deciding to be together.” The counterpart mumbled as the tiny Roman rubbed his hand to comfort him.

“But isn’t it weird how it isn’t real? How, you’re literally just playing out your creator’s fantasies because they enjoy the idea of you being together?” Virgil wondered.

The counterpart just shrugged. “I try not to think about it… but, it really isn’t that weird, even if we’re fictional characters we have memories, motives, morals, opinions, feelings. Those are real. Even if they aren’t created by us, they are real. Every thought, every motion, every breath. That is us. Just because it was written, drawn, or even just imagined, it happened and that makes it real. Makes this feeling real.” He explained as he rubbed the little head of his Roman.

“Huh I… I guess you’re right, I never thought of it that way.” Virgil shrugged.

“No one does. Why do you think people are told not to cry over fictional deaths when they actually had feelings for a character, platonic or not?” The counterpart said. “It’s just a story on the outside, something thought to not affect people even though when our memories are shared with them, it can change them.” Virgil looked at his counterpart, curiosity growing about how he had so much knowledge.

“Who’s your creator?” Virgil finally asked.

“Why do I have to have one?”

“Touche.” 

They went back to a comfortable silence. It was nice. Until this one Janus came.

“Hey, Virgil, does Roman mind if I had him for a bit?” They asked.

“I don’t mind at all!” The tiny side exclaimed as he got on Janus’ hand. They soon left, but when that Janus vired the Roman they weren’t far enough away from Virgil for him not to catch a glimpse. He shivered. 

“Is that normal?” He wondered.

“Depends on the part of the community, but pretty normal and usually safe, so don’t worry.” The counterpart comforted him. It barely helped but at last Virgil knew that that Roman was safe… probably.

“Can I try!” Remus came brelling up the his, straight (heh) to the counterpart.

“Only if you want to.” They replied.

“I do!” Remus wriggled with excitement.

“Alright, let's go find you one of the groups of sides either with the power to shrink you or are giants.” Virgil led Remus off the hill as Remus kept talking about everything that could go wrong but probably wouldn’t.

Weird. Was all Virgil could think as he watched them leave.

 …

 He saw a lot that day but never saw that Virgil again, as if he had vanished mysteriously. It didn’t matter to him right now though as he had been stuck with babysitting duty over all the little kid sides.

“F*** this.”

 …

 Virgil looked over the story he just read one more time. It was written by a small creator called @baka-monarch , who focussed more on reblogging than they did their own content.

“That was trash.”

…

…

…

“Reblog.”

[simplybakugou]

Sweet Summer Day

↝ Once you finally managed to go on a trip to the beach with your girlfriend, things started looking a little hazy as you had to chase away some boys pestering her.

BINGO SPACE: Summer Vacation

⋆ PAIRING: yaoyorozu x fem!reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: flufff; swearing; creepy boys 🤮 ⋆ WORD COUNT: 1542

A/N: this is another piece for the @bnhabookclub bingo event! momo owns my whole heart so obviously this was fun to write even though its a little shitty :(. thank you to @merry-kuroo for requesting momo for this prompt! the momo transparent cap is from the bnha bookclub google drive!

also yes the title is named after a TWICE track lmao. thank you @bnhatrashh​, the resident ONCE, for recommending me this BOP 💕

FULL BINGO MASTERLIST

✐posted 08.21.2020✐

It was the perfect day with your windows rolled down and the breeze ruffling through your hair. The radio was blasting your favorite song and while you were screeching along with the lyrics, your beautiful girlfriend who was practically flawless in every single way possible was sitting beside you as she hummed with the lyrics, making up for the chaos you were creating. Occasionally you would stop singing, wanting to hear Yaoyorozu’s soft voice that sounded like the gates to heaven opening with an angelic choir whisking you up to the sky but everytime she realized you stopped, she would stop singing as well, not wanting to be the only voice heard in the small space of your car.

It was an exciting day, one that you had been looking forward to for weeks since you found out that it was actually happening.

You, Yaoyorozu, and the rest of class A were finally on your way to becoming third years, your final year at U.A. High. Unlike every other summer, you wanted to do something fun. Usually you spent your summer breaks training and preparing for the next semester. Since you and Yaoyorozu had been dating your first year, you would often accompany her and help her study to strengthen her quirk and as much as you loved helping her out as much as you could, you wanted to spend your last summer as a high schooler with the one girl you loved and while having some fun at the same time. 

You managed to convince Yaoyorozu to go on a little trip and spend some quality time with her to which she agreed to. Although she did suggest inviting the other girls, you wanted to be around your girlfriend and take this trip as a date with her and as much as you loved your friends, it was fun to go out with her on your own.

“Is that it?” Yaoyorozu asked, her eyes gleaming in fascination at the sight of the beach ahead of you.

You nodded, grinning at the sea sparkling from the sun’s rays, the sound of the seagulls squawking at people for food, and the many people hanging around the waves and the beachside under the sun. You parked the car, exiting the vehicle and immediately unloading your things as you couldn’t wait to feel the sand beneath your toes.

Yaoyorozu assisted you as you both walked onto the beach with two chairs, towels, and any other belongings you deemed as necessary. You were quick to set up the chairs, taking your shirt and bottoms off as you were clad in your swimwear as Yaoyorozu followed suit.

Yaoyorozu sat down on one of the chairs that you finished setting up, sighing as she slipped her sunglasses on as she was basking under the sun. How was this girl so stunning?

“There’s a shop down there; do you want me to get you anything?” You asked her as you pointed to the small shop right towards the outer part of the beach.

Yaoyorozu nodded, telling you she just wanted something light to eat since it had been a long drive to get there and neither of you had eaten anything. With what you and Yaoyorozu wanted to get in mind, you proceeded towards the shop, ready to fill your stomach with cheap food to fill your empty stomach.

While you were away and Yaoyorozu finally felt relaxed under the sun, feeling the stress already be alleviated as she sat there. Her short period of solace was cut short as a pair of teenage boys, who looked around her age, approached her. She removed her glasses, peering up at the boys curiously. “May I help you?”

The first boy sat down on the sand, smirking at her. “You seemed lonely over here so hopefully we can change that.”

“Um, actually I’m fine here, thank you,” Yaoyorozu said, laughing uncomfortably.

“Aw, come on, don’t make this weird,” the other boy cackled, rubbing his hands together. “Why don’t we help you out? You need someone to rub some sunscreen on for you?”

Yaoyorozu shook her head, visibly distraught from the pryful boys and how disturbing and intrusive their behavior was.

“Wait a second,” the first boy started, eyes widening excitedly before his friend could say anything. “You’re that chick from U.A.!”

“Oh shit, you’re right!” The other boy exclaimed. “No wonder you’re so hot. All the U.A. chicks are hot.”

At this moment you had thanked the cashier for the snacks as you paid for them, swinging the bag happily as you made your way back to Yaoyorozu. Expecting to still see her sitting down peacefully as she took some well deserved rest, you were granted with the sight of the two boys pestering her and hovering over her. She seemed uneasy as she tried to distance herself as best as she could from the boys even though they kept scooting closer and closer to her.

You sighed, already used to little creeps like Mineta harassing her at school and you and the other girls didn’t hesitate to put the little twerp in place. Fortunately you had a quirk that helped you maneuver the ground, no matter the material involved. Using your quirk, you created a barrier between the boys and Yaoyorozu, using said barrier to forcefully push them away from her. They rolled in opposite directions and Yaoyorozu met your eyes in gratitude.

“Hey, dipshits!” You called out to them, turning your head side to side so they both heard you. “Stay the fuck away from my girlfriend, you fucking creeps.”

The first boy stood up, aggravated and embarrassed that a girl had humiliated him in front of the girl he was poorly attempting to swoon. He strode towards you, standing right in front of you. “You trying to start something?”

“And what if I am?” You retorted, raising a brow at him.

Before the situation could escalate any further, Yaoyorozu pulled you away from him, not wanting you to be involved with something that could make you look bad online as you were already known for your abrasive behavior especially as a U.A. student. “We’ll be going now.”

As you both began walking along the shore, you peered over your shoulder, making sure the boys weren’t following you two. One of them started cursing you out from afar and you flipped them off in response and then you looked over to Yaoyorozu. “Why’d you pull me away?”

“I didn’t want you to get in a fight,” she said simply. 

You scoffed. “Please, those assholes were bothering you, they needed a punch or two to the fucking head to humble them.”

Yaoyorozu giggled and you smiled at the sound. Although she never wanted to make you worry, whenever she was catcalled in this manner, she always felt down and upset with herself for something that other people do. She was a strong girl, you knew that better than anyone else, but when a boy calls her out and tries to hit on her, it’s different than a bunch of high school students being attacked by a group of villains. Yaoyorozu often felt disgusted with the boys’ behaviors, these two twerps and Mineta alike, but it put her in a vulnerable position during these situations, making her not know what to do at times.

That is until she met you. You and the other class A girls didn’t hesitate to put any pervish boy in place, no matter who it was. You weren’t afraid to beat anyone for even making your girlfriend upset and you would take action in a heartbeat.

And with you by her side, you made her feel confident, helped her realize how much of an outstanding girl she really is.

Yaoyorozu latched her arm with yours, smiling softly at you. “Should we continue where we left off before we were rudely interrupted?”

You nodded with the biggest grin on your face. “I thought you’d never ask.”

From there you ran directly into the crashing and raging waves, all while hand in hand with Yaoyorozu. The water cooled you down from the sun beaming down on both of you. You did whatever you could to make Yaoyorozu forget the two little brats who dared to make her frown. From building sandcastles to finding the prettiest shells in the depths of the sand, it was overall one of the most fun times you had in a while. 

It was easy to forget that you were teenagers when you were treated like adults by your high school as you were put into difficult and dangerous situations once being attacked by the League of Villains numerous times. But times like these made it all better, or you could at least try to think that it made it better. You and Yaoyorozu made sure to spend the day doing every single activity that not only brought you joy but also made you both feel like your age for once. 

Although the day started off a little rocky, thanks to your efforts in order to bring that angelic, pure, and loving smile onto her face, Yaoyorozu was able to have the best sweet summer day of her life.

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[spine-buster]

the storm before the calm (f. andersen) | prologue

A/N:  Here.  We.  Go.  Canon questions welcome (even though this is just the prologue).

Frederik Andersen was tired.  He was tired, and it was nearly two o’clock in the morning, and he was walking down King Street West to get home.  Except then he remembered: he remembered he couldn’t go home yet, because he needed to pick up toilet paper, and he couldn’t go home without toilet paper.

Or aftershave.

Or toothpaste.

He could never just go home like he wanted to – there always had to be something.  Something that obstructed him from doing what he wanted to do, from getting himself to the comfort of his own home, from being the traditional homebody that he was.  Something always thwarted his plans.  Something always came up.

He sighed.  

He took out his phone and opened Google Maps to make sure he hadn’t walked past the 24-hour Shopper’s Drug Mart yet.  He knew it was a five-minute walk from his condo, but in the dark of night he knew it would be hard to see.  It also didn’t help that it was obscured within an old building, the typically large, LED-signage not present like with others.  Noticing that it was only the next block over, he hurried his pace, walking through the scores of girls in too-short dresses drunkenly tipping over on their stiletto heels grabbing onto one another for support and the boys desperate for their phone numbers following them out of the bars and clubs that lined the street with their phones in their hands and hope in their eyes.  

Because it was two o’clock in the morning, the Shoppers Drug Mart was empty.  There was one lady standing at a till, with all the self-checkouts still open.  He wasn’t even sure if the pharmacist was present, looking towards the back to see if his suspicions were correct.  It was quiet – so quiet he could practically hear the ringing of the lights above him.  The only interruptions were giggles from girls outside or cars revving their engines.  

Okay, toilet paper.

He grabbed a small basket, putting in a quick 6-roll package inside, knowing that it would probably last him until his next road trip, when – inevitably – he’d come home late at night and realize he was out of toilet paper and would have to run back to the same Shopper’s Drug Mart to get some so he could sleep peacefully.  

Toothpaste.

He walked a few aisles over and was greeted with the wall of toothpaste.  He grabbed an old favourite and chucked it into his basket.

Aftershave.

The previous aisle back.  He realized his usual was locked up in a cabinet, and he wasn’t in the mood to go ask the one lady working the till to get the key and unlock it just for him.  He had enough to last him.  He made the decision to come back tomorrow.  Or, technically, later today.  When there was light outside.

Was there anything else?

Deodorant.  He needed deodorant.  

He walked the few aisles over to where he knew the deodorant was, and as soon as he turned the corner, he saw a figure.  It was a person – that much he knew – in a stylish trench coat.  A woman – mounds of hair twisted and tied with a scrunchie in a messy bun atop her head, the wisps of hair she didn’t happen to catch cascading down her back in perfectly manicured waves.  Her back was to him.  She was standing right in front of his deodorant.  

He approached her slowly, making sure not to startle her – he was 6’3”, he knew he could startle people based on his size alone.  But the closer he got to her, he realized she wouldn’t move.  The closer he got to her, he realized she was either ignoring him or legitimately didn’t hear him.

The closer he got to her, he realized she was crying.

He heard it at first: soft sniffles, even softer whimpers, her body shaking slightly from her trying to keep it together and not descending into a full-on sob in the middle of the store.  He still couldn’t see her face – only her hands and her hair still – but it was still awkward.  He didn’t know what to do.  It’s not like he had ever encountered a crying girl in the middle of a Shopper’s Drug Mart at two o’clock in the morning before.  There was no precedent for this.  Fifteen seconds ago he thought he was the only customer in the store.

“Um…excuse me?” Fred asked in as gentle of a voice he could muster.

The poor girl jumped in shock.  She turned her head towards him quickly, like a flash, not long enough in the slightest to get a good look at her.  “Oh my God…” she mumbled.

“Are you okay?” Fred asked as she began wiping her face with her hand.  It was then, and only then, when she turned her head slightly to look at him, that he got a good look at her.

He knew that she was taken aback by his soft intrusion, but to say that her features took him aback was an understatement.  In less than a second, he was completely and utterly transfixed.  Rich, dark brown hair.  Perfectly tanned and contoured skin as smooth and flawless as glass.  Dominant eyebrows that framed her face.  Perfectly cut cheekbones blushed and highlighted.  Lips – God, her lips – full and bow-shaped, pained with a daring red.  

Her eyes full of tears, with striking hazel irises, were staring directly into his soul.

She was, quite possibly, the most strikingly beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and would ever see, in his life.

“I’m fine, Fred,” she said, in a voice equally as soft as his.  He noticed her shuffle away from him nervously, refusing to stay too close.  “I’m – I’m sorry – I –”

Fred’s brows furrowed at the mention of his name.  He had never seen this girl before in his life.  And he’d know if he’d seen her before.  How did she know who he was?  He knew he played for the Toronto Maple Leafs but…well…this wasn’t a girl who looked like she was into hockey.  He knew he should never judge a book by its cover and all that, but still.  “How do you know who I am?”

A certain look flashed across her face – a look he couldn’t read.  It could have been disgust.  It could have been sorrow.  It could have been surprise.  It could have been anything, really, and the fact that he didn’t know made him upset.  “I just performed at the function you came from.”

He was taken aback by her answer.  He had just left a charity gala – a busy one at that, with hundreds of people in attendance – and he’d heard the music being performed there…well, there was the music during the cocktail hour, and the performers during dinner, and the live band when the dancing started, and…she was there?  Which one was she?  He…he would have noticed her.  He would have listened.  If he saw somebody like her approaching the stage or at a piano he’d notice, God damn it he’d notice, but he didn’t remember…

“I’m sorry I’m in the way,” her voice interrupted his internal battle as she moved away.  Her heels clicked on the ground below them and each step further away from him was like nails on a chalkboard to Fred.  She turned the corner.  

“Wait – wait – who – are you sure – why are you crying?” he asked.  He wanted to move but his feet were cement, stuck to the floor like heavy columns.  He couldn’t even formulate the right words.  He sounded like an idiot.  The only thing that kept flashing in his mind – not the rows upon rows of different brands of deodorant – the only thing he could see in front of him were her eyes.  Her striking hazel eyes.

Bright but full of darkness.

Full of life but full of sorrow.

So vivacious but so unhappy.

After a few moments, Fred was able to get his footing again, his own shoes clacking against the floor as he rushed over to the end of the aisle to catch her in the next.

Except she wasn’t there.

He turned around, going to the next aisle.

The next aisle.  The next.  The next.

Not there.  Not there.  Not there.

He looked towards the window.  There were more people on the sidewalks now, since bars had their last call and everybody had to filter out.  He dropped his basket and ran outside, towering over everyone passing him.  He looked to his left to see if he could find her trench coat and heels walking through the crowds.  He looked to his right to see if he could find her messy bun and scrunchie.

She wasn’t there.  She wasn’t anywhere.  It was like she had disappeared into thin air, never to be heard of or seen again.  Was she a figment of his imagination?  Was she just a hallucination?  Something that his mind conjured up at two in the morning after a charity gala?  It was impossible.  This wasn’t Hamlet.  He wasn’t Hamlet.  No ghost was going to appear to him, speak to him, call him his name and know he went to a function that night.  No overtired or overactive imagination would do that – the least not his.

“Sir?  Sir are you going to pay for your items or should I re-shelve them?” the poor cashier called out to him from inside the store, lifting his basket in his arms.  “Should I ring you up?”

He took one more look to his right.  One more look to his left.  Nothing.  Should he ask the cashier?  That might make him sound like a stalker.  The last thing he needed was this cashier calling the cops on him because he wanted to follow a female stranger out of the store.

“Sir?”

He sighed.  He took in a big gulp of the crisp night air to make sure he was still…alive.  Cognizant.  Conscious.  He thought about the encounter: brief but life-changing.  At least for him.  He thought about her trench coat, her heels, her lips, her tears, her voice, her eyes; everything imprinted in his mind so they were unforgettable.  

He resolved: he’d scour every face in Toronto, he’d look into every pair of eyes until he found hers again.  

“I’m coming,” he finally called out, walking in through the out door.

[physical-manifestation-of-spite]

*claps* SO. UM. THIS IS A YEAR OLD. I found this boy hidden away in my Google docs folders, nearly finished. I obviously forgot about it, and therefore have NO IDEA where that prompt list is anymore, but uh... here it is anyway. Better late than never. 

96. “Here, let me.”

(I’m going to keep this somewhat ambiguous for those who prefer the more platonic take on Reigen and Serizawa, but really, this can be read either way!)

Serizawa has learned over the years that, at times, Reigen can be insufferably stupid. Not stupid in the sense of not knowing things--though there are certainly things the man pretends to know but definitely does not--but rather in the sense of him knowing that certain things lead to consequences and doing it anyway. 

The heroic shtick was inspiring the first day they met, but really, this is starting to get old. 

“Hold still,” Serizawa says in a huff, and if it wasn’t for his waver between the words, it could have been considered snappish. 

(The liquid is warm, but it scalds Serizawa’s insides, the slickness of it between his fingers, as he holds onto the man’s head and prays that he’ll wake up.)

“I’ve been holding still.” Reigen’s words slur just a tad, and Serizawa can tell that he’s deliberately working his tongue to avoid most of the stumbles. His brow is knotted in frustration, face caked in mud so he can’t see the color of his skin, but Serizawa can tell that his boss is angry, skin hot against the palm of his hand. Maybe that’s not quite the right word. Frustrated, perhaps. Upset. Ashamed. 

Well-- 

(He hates this, this crippling fear, the uncertainty that knots inside of him and keeps him in place as he just watches, making him always late, always not there soon enough. Reigen’s hands should not be that pale, not be that blue, and he hopes, desperately, he doesn’t throw up on his boss.)

--that makes two of them.

“You’re pressin’ a bit hard. Gonna give me a headache.” 

“Well--” Seri snaps, but relaxes the pressure on Reigen’s temple, the cloth swathing the man’s skin still heavy and wet. He thinks he’s going to say something, some hot retort so close on his tongue that it’s slipping through his teeth. But then his eyes float back to Reigen and is met with a vacant gaze, and the retort is caught in his throat. He swallows. “It’s the only way to get the blood to clot.”

“S’been an hour. I’m pretty sure it’s clotted by now.” 

Serizawa’s hands flex. It has been an hour, and still there are no sounds of sirens. 

He hates this waiting game, sitting on the what-ifs and what-nows, and he desperately wishes he had Shimazaki’s talents. To easily teleport Reigen to the nearest hospital without any extra hassle. He would have moved Reigen with his powers alone, but it’s impossible not to jostle him at least once in a several-miles-long journey, and he doesn’t want to further the damage. So he waits, and he hates it.

(It burns, just sitting here, unable to do anything but stare at the man on the ground, and to suffocate in the halestorm of his own thoughts.)

Serizawa is still cradling Reigen’s head.

 “You shouldn’t have done that.”

Reigen frowns and squeezes his eyes shut in that I-don’t-want-to-talk-about-this way. Serizawa watches as he visibly stiffens, his fingers rolling in a restless wave against his palm.

“I didn’t have a choice.”

Bullshit, Seri wants to say, and with a flurry in his chest, he realizes he does. “Bullshit. That’s just an excuse. You always throw yourself on the ground like a martyr--”

“A ‘martyr’?” Reigen’s voice is incredulous, and he peels his eyes open to glare at Serizawa. “Actions have consequences. So does inaction. There were kids, Serizawa. Should I have just waited for the cops to come? Jesus, they had a gun and--”

Serizawa can’t help himself. “And what? You thought you’d jump right in front of it!” Reigen’s face gets hotter beneath his palm. Distantly, Seri wonders if he went too far, but at the moment, he couldn’t be damned to care. “You treat it like it’s the only option, all the time--”

“No, I don’t! I look for other options, all the time. I try to take the gun away, try to distract them, but sometimes--”

“Sometimes it’s ‘necessary’?”

“You know what? Sometimes it is.” 

They both glare each other down, heat scalding both of their faces, as the sun continues to dip closer to the buildings and cast deep shadows against the rubble. They’re both breathing hard, sucking hot air into their nostrils as they persist in a sort of silent staring match. The blood is finally dry against Serizawa’s skin, but he still keeps his hand pressed against his boss’s head.

“What if it was Tome?”

Serizawa makes a strangled noise. “Don’t bring her into this.”

“You would do the same thing, Seri--”

“Yeah? And what if you were Mob?”

Reigen’s voice gets caught in his throat. His eye twitches. “That’s different--”

“Mob doesn’t see it that way. You know how distraught he would be? Do you even remember the Tower?”

“That’s still different. He’s still a kid--”

“Fuck, Reigen, him being a kid does not mean that you’re not as fucking important as him!”

It wasn’t quite a scream, but it was something of the sort that he wouldn’t say in a restaurant, or with a client, or in any public space. He never swears. But, there’s that insistent voice in the back of his head that says that this is justified, that if Reigen won’t listen to some calm rationale, he’ll sure listen to some throes of rage. And he thinks it works because Reigen snaps his mouth shut and refuses to look Serizawa in the eye. Seri works his mouth open to press further, but at the most convenient of times, Reigen’s phone buzzes.

They both sigh through their noses, in either relief or exasperation, and Reigen clumsily pats down his pockets in search for it. His face twists when he finds them empty, but Serizawa is already picking up something beside him.

“Here,” he mutters. “Let me.” He flips open the phone and fits it back into Reigen’s fingers, which still shake from fatigue. Reigen grunts something out before putting it to his ear.

“Hello? Ah, Mob… Yeah, we’re fine. Yes, we’re between 22nd South and-- What? Yes, uh…. Yeah, he’s here… No…”

As the conversation continues on, Serizawa watches as Reigen’s face changes from placid and business-like to something more contorted, with the side of his mouth turning and twitching and a guilty nibble at the cheek. His face gets hot again against Seri’s palm. 

“Yes, we’re waiting… Yes… Mob, look-- No, don’t…” Seri hears something specifically terse on the other side of the line, and Reigen’s skin is like fire. “Yes, I know… I’m sorry, Mob, I know. Yeah, we called. We’ll… yeah, we’re waiting.” 

Serizawa can tell that Mob’s angry, and he feels as though he is an unwilling but intrusive participant. A pull of discomfort stirs in Serizawa’s chest, a sort of awkwardness that smothers the atmosphere. Reigen flips the phone back shut, the conversation clearly over, and pointedly avoids Serizawa’s gaze as he tosses it back to the ground. They sit (and lie) there in uncomfortable silence. 

They don’t talk about their previous discussion. They say not much else to the other when Mob appears, hovering above the rubble, his clothes in disarray but his skin otherwise unblemished. By the time his shoes crunch into the dirt, Mob and Reigen share a look, and between that one glance they speak a thousand words a minute. Seri is almost envious. Reigen relaxes, whether in relief of Mob’s safety or defeat of Mob’s stare, Serizawa is unsure. But they hear sirens, finally, in the distance, and Mob says something about clearing their way. He leaves, and the atmosphere is thick and uncomfortable in his wake. 

After a length, Reigen finally huffs. “M’sorry.” It’s nearly a whisper. Serizawa looks up expectantly, staring unblinkingly at his boss -- no, his friend -- and willing him to force the rest of the words out. The ginger still looks uncomfortable. “Not for going up there. Not for protecting those kids. But--” He sighs. “Maybe I should have waited. For you. Hell, even for Mob.”

Serizawa waits for more, some further admonition of wrongdoing, of acknowledging his stupid behavior, and when nothing more is forthcoming, he releases a sigh of his own. It’s not what he wants to hear. But it’s a start. 

He knows Reigen’s head isn’t bleeding anymore, but the palm of his hand is still pressed against him. “Okay,” he says, as he hears the crunch of boots against gravel, the speckled forms of medical officers coming closer. “I guess I’ll let you off on a warning.”

Reigen guffaws, a hoarse, choking noise in the back of his throat, and it’s the best noise Serizawa has heard from him all damn day.

[hillnerd]

ptsd/c-ptsd,  therapy & writing

(This is written by someone with CPTSD - I am not a mental health expert, and am just writing from my own experience! )

So a lot of writers want to incorporate PTSD and C-PTSD into their fiction. Sometimes people get it super right- other times I’m left cringing. I wrote this to help writers know more about it, then it also ended up being something I sent to a friend with PTSD as it got into it so she’d know more what the therapy process is like. 

So! What’s it like to have PTSD? PTSD therapy vs regular therapy-How are they different? How are they the same? What does PTSD therapy consist of?

Trigger warning:

I will be describing therapy, talk of other disorders like anxiety and depression, and might use some 'you' talk - example 'once you've gone through this, then you start to feel better.' This will also skim over child abuse, suicidal ideation mentions and trauma in general- Read w/ caution if you are sensitive to this

general overview to PTSD and C-PTSD

I am diagnosed with PTSD, but it's actually C-PTSD*

C-PTSD or Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder differs from PTSD in that it's more for people who have had chronic environments of trauma/abuse for years - and is currently proposed to have a certain symptoms not listed under PTSD symptoms. 

Much of these symptoms have more to do with how one relates to other people, their self perception, and generally their learned behaviors in order to protect themselves long-term. PTSD is more about a specific event, of series of events that occurred in quick succession.

Despite the lack of official diagnosis, therapists treat people for CPTSD all the time- they just use a lot of the same tools they would for PTSD.

Not everyone who experiences trauma or battles develops PTSD, but there are factors that make you more inclined to develop it.

What is PTSD like?

There are many ways that people manifest PTSD/CPTSD symptoms.They are easy enough to google and be familiar with, but what's it ACTUALLY like for me.

a hair-trigger startle instinct I have had a few times where my husband is up at night, and I didn’t realize he was in the room- then I see the outline and start screaming- and can’t stop for like 2 minutes- then the crying settles in for 30 minutes. My traumas had nothing to do with strangers in the night. I just have a super intense startle instinct that sends my whole body into panic mode sometimes.

Hyper-vigilance- trying to control everything around you to keep you safe, and being super on edge keeping an eye out for how things will fall apart. Making sure things are locked, being extra wary of people, wanting to not have your back to people, perking up at every little noise etc.

issues sleeping- insomnia, light sleeping, & nightmares-   Sometimes reliving a memory, or just having intense dreams that leave you exhausted the next day you can barely function. This ties in with hyper-vigilance a lot- so falling asleep and staying asleep can be hard.

Depression and anxiety- pretty self explanatory- but it's common to experience these, and for pills to not necessarily be that helpful without the therapy. Sometimes anxious self destructive thoughts and memories start haunting you and making you freeze up or panic, feel like you’re going to die/be left alone by everyone etc. Sometimes emotional abuse from your past starts coming up and haunting you and you feel all your selfworth leaving your body leaving behind nothing but the want to sleep all day/cut yourself off from people - at times this can turn to suicidal ideation and other really dangerous behaviors and thoughts.

Sudden mood switches/panic responses usually a trigger for these switches is something associated with your trauma- but basically when something associated with our trauma suddenly comes up sometimes it causes us to start having feelings and emotions that feel out of whack for the situation at hand. 

Example: When I was a five I was beaten and locked on a sunny porch of a 2 story building with a sliding door.  Once my husband blocked me on the way to the door so I wouldn’t accidentally walk into some freshly painted furniture on the other side of the sliding door. I immediately panicked and angrily screamed at him to’ let me GO! fuck you!!! when he’s the gentlest man in the world and has never ever been anything but kind and wonderful with me. Then after the rage wore off I was like crying and so sorry.

I’m usually not an ‘angry reaction’ person- I’m usually a freeze/cry type- but yeah.Sometime people get panicked in crowded places, or if they feel someone is mad at them, or if they feel trapped, or if they feel like they’re being abandoned.

Sometimes I’ll get super manic and impatient/snappish if there’s not a plan on what we’re doing at a crowded place (really it’s because I want an escape plan/safe place I know we can always go to- and feel vulnerable when it’s a lot of people standing around without a plan and feel like I’ll get lost/abducted)

intrusive negative thoughts 

It’ll be the darkest weirdest repeating thoughts that you associate with emotional upset.  In ptsd treatment there is a lot of going through the events and rethinking your conclusions you’ve taken away from them. It’s simplified a lot in shows to a simple ‘it’s not your fault’- which, yeah, that’s the crux of it- but the actual work of it is super intense, exhausting, and so much more in depth.  

unhealthy coping mechanisms so a lot of people with ptsd will find ways to cope to help them fill an emotional void, or to cover up feelings etc. There are tons of ways people do this. Some will do extreme things like drugs, risky behaviors, drinking a lot etc Example: They experience a ‘violent retraumatizing’ moment like a pet getting killed in front of them- then later to cope have casual sex and drink too much in order to numb their emotions and not think about them.

A lot of ‘avoidance’ and ‘overdependence’ can be a part of ptsd. Like you might avoid certain things like the plague, or constrastingly might start using people or things or substances or food like an emotional crutch/security blanket instead of coping in a healthier way or learning to be independent.

Self protective steps you take might be super over the top, or self-destructive and borderline suicidal. 

Sometimes trying to repress all your emotions and not express them is something you do to protect yourself. 

This can be all over the map really- there are hundreds of examples!

triggering moments of your ‘Stuck points’

Stuck points are thoughts that keep us from recovering. Stuck points are concise statements that reflect a thought – not a feeling, behavior, or event. 

Example of stuck points:  'If I let other people get close to me, I'll get hurt again', 'I am useless.' 'I'm broken', 'I can't trust anyone in authority', 'People will reject me if they get to know me/see me at my worst’ ‘I’m a monster.’ ‘I’m worthless’ 

These can come up and you won’t even realize it at first. You’ll have something super innocuous happen and all of a sudden you’re on the verge of a breakdown, angry and/or panicking for seemingly no reason. 

These intense emotions will hit you and don’t feel like there’s any thoughts connected to them- there ARE thoughts behind it of course, but it takes a bit of deconstructing to figure it out though and realize ‘ooooh, there’s the thought train that was bubbling under the surface! I didn’t realize because thinking through my emotional processes was something I wasn’t allowed to do during my trauma- so now I don’t know how to instinctively do that even a little.’

Examples in fiction 

Harry Potter in Order of the Phoenix where he is yelling at the drop of a hat when he feels abandoned/rejected by everyone. His reactions are so CLEARLY PTSD related to me.  Actually, I think he has CPTSD and it just got to a tipping point due to the traumas he experienced in the graveyard.

Hunger Games Books  Probably the best portrayal of PTSD, of books I’ve read, is Hunger Games. The movies glazed over it a bit- but the books? Oh man, they nail it so hard.

HP and Hunger Games both have protagonists who are great portrayals of ptsd. The anger, the disassociation, the depression, the nightmares, the inability to identify with humans at times, the self protective steps that are unhealthy, the coping mechanism of avoidance etc.

Disassociating

People describe this in tons of different ways, but personally I think of it like body/brain numbness. All of a sudden it’s like a blankness comes over you, almost like that hazy way of daydreaming, only instead of daydreams it’s nothing but a buzzing blankness with maybe like slight almost invisible undercurrent of panic. It’s like the body is paralyzed, and you can’t act or think or do anything but stare or numbly move a bit- it almost feels like your soul just left your body for a bit and you’ve been consumed by a white room of emptiness. Not a black void- it’s not being lost in darkness- it’s like being lost in the light, if that makes sense? Like think of a blank why void like in The Matrix where the whiteness goes on forever. 

Flashbacks

In tv shows they often show it like it's a hallucination or something. Flashbacks are typically shown as a person basically becoming delirious and having visual and audio hallucinations, then perhaps even becoming violent to those around them because they literally see something different than what is real.

Again, this is my experience- but flashbacks have never worked like that for me. I more disassociate, and then all the emotions of that memory hit me, and in my brain I’m able to see bits and pieces of what happened back then, or even the whole thing- it’s like a SUPER intense memory/daydream/nightmare just settles in there for a bit- and you feel all the full emotions of it for a bit- can suddenly feel the sensations of it too at times-but at NO point am I actively moving about in a real room around people getting them confused with the past and lashing out at the hallucinations.

 I’m just sitting there, or crying there- and if someone in the room with me were to talk to me they might have to get my attention because I'm deep in that daydream/flashback- but I’d hear them and see them once I realize I’m spacing out. The most outburst I’d have would be to not want anyone to touch me- or get super startled from someone touching me then pushing them away from me. That’s very different than the crazy shit they show on TV and movies sometimes.

BAD EXAMPLE: One particular one that still makes me mad is when that had Owen from Grey’s Anatomy sees a fan- then get ‘triggered into a ptsd episode’ where he is unblinkingly choking out Cristina as she begs him to stop for a long time. Like…. It’s one thing for someone to be startled and have their instinct be to strike out- that’s a very different thing from what they portrayed. If they wanted to show him as ptsd dangerous- which is worrisome to me as people with mental health are stigmatized enough- but if they wanted to- it would have made much more sense for her to startle him somehow and for him to just blindly strike out before he realizes it. With combat training, he could very well have instincts that aren’t safe when he’s over sensitized and startled.

What are the main treatments for PTSD?

Cognitive Processing Therapy  (CPT)

CPT is the main treatment for PTSD. It is highly structured, and the majority of it is writing and worksheets. There is a LOT of writing and talking out about your trauma, writing and talking about how you process it, and analyzing it.

Beyond the traumatic memories, there is also noticing the behaviors you have that are related to your trauma and how they come out in every day scenarios. This leads to:

Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT)

This is not about processing past events, but about processing current behaviors/reactions and trying to slowly change those behaviors over time so that they are healthier reactions/coping mechanism in place.

Exposure therapy- Reliving memories

For PTSD some people do a lot of reliving the trauma memories by describing them in detail, every tiny detail they can think of- and basically reliving them, but then trying to reroute the emotional response to them. 

Some people are SO repressed that this is a very difficult thing for them to access- both remembering the memory, but also knowing what their emotions were/are. These memories of trauma aren't always easy to remember/re-feel/access and that can be frustrating.

I personally am REALLY GOOD at reliving memories- in fact I'm so good that we have been avoiding it for a bit because i go straight into flashback mode way too easy (more on flashbacks and how they work later)

There are ways of doing this that are more than just revising the memory through talk therapy, that I haven't done and would require research on your part:

virtual reality to revisit the place

watching videos or listening to recordings of the event and talking it through

exposure therapy that's more about getting used to sounds/smells/words that are triggering

The main point though is to process the emotions tied to that event and not make your brain default to that flight/fight/freeze mode when triggering things happen.

IMPORTANT TOOLS FOR THERAPY

If a person hasn't had much therapy, CPT/CBT has a lot of learning for that person, and a LOT of trying to identify emotions and really feel them, so one can process them.

Grounding techniques/exercises-

techniques used to sooth/calm a person when activated- there are like thousands of these guys out there- I think everyone is a bit familiar with them- like breathing exercises in yoga? Basically it's a way of regrouping and centering yourself- 'grounding' you in reality, instead of letting your brain go off on a tangent/emotional rollercoaster.

It's basically any way you can snap your thinking out of your anxious thoughts and concentrate on something until your re-calibrate and are calmer.

Personally the breathing techniques make me freak out- so I don't use those. :P Ones I find helpful are ones like 'Name every color you can see.' or 'go through the alphabet and letter by letter name an animal that starts with that letter.' and 'hold an ice cube in your hand and concentrate fully on every sensation you're feeling.'example  example

-CBT and CPT WORKSHEETS

god, SO many worksheets.

Here are some helpful links

https://positivepsychologyprogram.com/cbt-cognitive-behavioral-therapy-techniques-worksheets/  --- This page covers cognitive distortions really well, and has some helpful resources and worksheets.

https://trailstowellness.org/resources   This page has a lot of great worksheets for trauma.

https://www.psychologytools.com/professional/problems/post-traumatic-stress-disorder-ptsd/- unfortunately you cannot access the documents here without paying- BUT you can read what the docs are, and how they will be used in a therapy setting- so can use that as a launch point for what sort of worksheets/phrases to google.

I specifically worked from  Cognitive Processing Therapy for PTSD: A Comprehensive Manual a lot.

What is the structure of PTSD therapy?

First session

The first thing I had to do was fill out a questionnaire (PTSD test , cptsd questionnaire) to make sure she thought the treatment was appropriate. We talked about this a bit, what symptoms I had, talked over examples of it. I'm comfortable with therapy so this wasn't so bad for me, but I can see this being very difficult for people who aren't as comfortable in this setting and would need to be walked through it more and have more questions as they might not have a lot of self-awareness. We discussed goals, what could be achieved, and generally what it would be like. We went over the first worksheet and I was given homework of figuring out what my stuck points are.

Sessions after that

Each session we begin with typical therapy for a bit 'how was the last week? Were there any events I should know about?' Then we go over the worksheet I filled out, and analyze it, talk about examples, or apply it to trauma memories.

What is trauma therapy LIKE?

I always try to have the next day or so as free as possible after therapy, because afterwards I am wiped out, exhausted, and sometimes super triggered and crying afterwards.

The analogy I like to use is cleaning out a closet you keep hoarding stuff in:

Your house is your life, your brain is a closet, and PTSD/trauma is a messy hoarders type hidden away in the closet. When the door to this closet is closed you can almost pretend there isn't a mess there at all. Y ou close the door by being in denial, not thinking about your trauma, not acknowledging or processing it. You just keep stuffing the trauma into the closet.

But the longer you let the closet stay like that, the worse the situation gets. Soon that closet door keeps busting open and all sorts of crap falls out when you don't want it to. Freakouts, hypervigilance, meltdowns etc. The crap in the closet starts to multiply.

Ever seen Hoarders or Marie Kondo? You know how people are crying over t-shirts and crap and the house looks WORSE for a while? That's trauma therapy.

In therapy you have to open the closet door, take out ALL the crap you've been hoarding in the closet, process it, organize it, and then put things in order again. Every single box of trauma needs to be looked at then put away- The goal is to  throw out the intense intrusive emotions tied to the junk. You have to keep your memories- but you don't have to keep holding on to the behaviors they've formed, the turbulent emotions, and the intensity of it all. During therapy at first it's fine. Kondo is walking you through it and it's all just fine and dandy- then you are faced with this HOARD of CRAP you have to work through- and it's SO overwhelming. My anxiety and depression got way worse for a while. Like, I was on EDGE and having nightmares and it was horrible. But then once you've processed the memories, and start actively applying what you've learned and start using grounding techniques more and more- things do get easier.

I am not fixed. I am not cured. I will have to continue to work through stuff- It's that whole 'healing is a not a straight line' thing. Like, there are times I regress and I hate it. :P But it's gotten a lot better.

IF YOU GUYS HAVE ANY QUESTIONS ABOUT THIS I’M HAPPY TO HELP.

I figure this can be an ok resource for people who don’t know much about ptsd except what it says on like webmd (which isn’t that accessible to me) and want to write about it (or want to just know more about it)

( *C-PTSD has not been considered an official different disorder from PTSD for all that long. In fact, one technically can't be medically diagnosed with CPTSD in america yet. PTSD is diagnosable and has been considered an official disorder for decades, but C-PTSD has not been named a disorder of its own yet in the official guidebook of psychological disorders in the US (DSM). I think they might have JUST recognized it in the UK guidebook (ICD). I know it was proposed for the 11th addition.)

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

Ruin

Summary: An attempt to get Roman and Remus to get along fails and leaves Remus reeling. Indulging in a bad habit to try and keep the thoughts away from Thomas leads to Logan finding out, though instead of the ridicule he's expecting, he receives kindness instead.

Warnings: self harm, slight unsympathetic Roman, slight disassociation, hurt with happy ending

Please do not read with the intention if triggering yourself. If you are triggered by self harm I and other authors have others stories for you to read. Stay safe.

Ships: platonic intrulogical, Logan x Remus

WC: 2, 140

"You're just useless! Nothing you do has any purpose other than to torment and I'm so sick of it!"

Remus recoiled from his brothers harsh words, cookies spilled on the floor from where he had swept them away. He had been rather pleased with how vague the penis shape actually was, chocolate chips painstakedly placed so you'd only notice if you looked closely. Roman had looked closely.

Sometimes Remus genuinely couldn't help doing things impulsively; the idea had come to his mind and he had done it without a thought to any possible repercussions and now Roman was mad and it had actually been going well for once but now he had ruined it just like he always did and what if he just stabbed him to get rid of the problem?

The thought came abruptly and without prompt, making him blink back to reality as Roman continued to rant before noticing he hadn't been paying attention.

"But of course you don't care. You aren't even paying attention to a word I'm saying. You ruin everything and I don't understand why I even try!" Ever the dramatic, Roman sunk out with a final huff and throw of his arms, leaving Remus stuck standing trembling in the middle of a mess. No one else was around, leaving the twins alone for "bonding time". Wasn't that a laugh and a half.

'I wonder if the cookies could act like marbles in those old cartoons and I'd slip and fall and crack my head open and-' Drawing a shaky breath his busied himself with cleaning to try and dispell the unwanted thoughts. It was in his nature to be impulsive, brash. He was loud and insistant, truly the living embodiment of Intrusive Thoughts that plagued Thomas' mind when it got to be too much to hold in.

'What if you smashed your hand in the oven?' He turned the oven off and went to grab a broom. 'How hard would you have to fall for a broom to stab through your intestines? How fast would you have to run to stab someone else's?'

Kitchen relatively clean he spun around once more to make sure. 'Just grab a knife. You don't have to use it, just feel it.'

If he sunk out while holding the fridge could he smash Roman with it?

Roman's dark blood staining the carpet an even deeper red.

Remus standing by as the other screamed.

How easy would those screams be to shut up.

How easily would he be to shut up.

Could fascets die? Was it worth trying to find out?

Subconsciously he realized he was walking down the hall to his room, eyed glazed over as the thoughts continued making him feel spacey and fake. He shut the door behind him and stood for what felt like hours, head going everywhere and no where at once until one thought forced him to snap out of it slightly.

'You're going to hurt Thomas. You're going to make him want to hurt others.'

He embodied intrusive thoughts and bad creativity but most of the time those thoughts were just remembering unpleasant sensations or thinking of a crude or out of context joke that would be inappropriate to say out loud. It was random, harmless thought spirals that most of the time you could shake your way out of and Remus simply did whatever random thing there was to do around the mind scape to get rid of excess energy. When he was upset however, the thought spirals grew darker, more suggestive, supplying ghastly images that he wouldn't mind seeing if it was sat in front of a horror movie but as it was...

Persistent thoughts continued to pound through his head, flicking between hurt to angry to apathetic and back before he could breathe. He wanted to hurt something, someone, and he could practically feel the toxic mindset leaching into Thomas' thought process even as he struggled to contain it. He ripped through his desk drawers desperately, everything neat despite his chaotic nature though the desperation rose as hiding spot after hiding spot came up empty. Chewed nails scraped at the underside of the bed frame then groped in the darkest corners of his room. His eyes landed on a small picture frame, a drawing he had done that Janus had framed long ago before any of this had been a problem and quickly went to rip it off the wall.

Taped to the back a small blade glinted passively in the dull light, making his breath hitch in relief as he grabbed it out of its confines. His sleeve went up without a thought until he forced all of concentration on the task at hand.

The first few, well several, cuts were nothing. His skin tingled numbly as straight lines were drawn across it, taking a second or two to well up with blood but by then he had already moved on. Just a small patch, right below his elbow on his outer arm. Thicker skin made for more lines. It wasn't until they began to overlap that he truly felt it, minutes later, stinging and angry and flowing and...

Quiet.

His mind was silent for once. Blissful peace after the turmoil of not ten minutes before hand. The razor fell to the floor as he bit his lip tiredly and stared at the slow growing puddle on the floor. The blood flow slowed, just barely pulsing out with his heartbeat. Looking around reality set itself in place and the slight whooshing in his ears abated just enough for him to hear persistent knocking at the door.

Wait.

Scrambling in a half panic Remus yanked his sleeve back down, letting out a hiss before shoving a blanket to the floor and stumbling over to the door, nearly getting a fist to his face when he got it open.

Logan's startled face quickly knitted into concern as he glanced Remus over, pursing his lips in thought.

"What is it Nerdy Wolverine." His tone was flat but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"I overheard your argument, I thought it would be alright to assume you may need some level of...comfort."

Remus laughed tiredly. "Did Ro not open his door?"

Logan had the decency to look confused. "I don't know, I didn't check."

"You didn't....check on Roman? You came for me first?" It had to be a trick, some idiotic set up Patton had created. Check on the evil twin first to make sure he isnt wrecking havoc then check the better one to be sure he's okay. "Get out."

He slammed the door unceremoniously in the logical sides face, leaning against it heavily.

"Remus." His voice came through muffled. "I assure you I mean well. Roman can be...a lot. I simply wish to make sure everything is alright."

Remus didn't answer.

"Remus I will be frank," and Remus could barely make out the added 'though my name is Logan' mumbled as an afterthought. "I smelled the blood. Either you tell me why or I will come in and figure it out myself."

Swallowing Remus called out weakly. "It was an experiment Google Dex, it's fine."

"The fact that there was not one disturbing punchline in that sentence says otherwise."

"You can't come in."

"I could."

"I might hurt you."

"You won't."

"I'm dangerous."

"You're not."

"You don't know that."

"I do."

"I ruin everything."

"You aren't ruining anything."

"You've said that before. To Virgil"

"Yes. But saying it before to a different person doesn't make the statement any less true."

Remus gripped at his still bleeding arm, knocking his head against the door softly before rocking himself to his feet and stepping back. "Fine."

The door opened and Logan immediately swept the room before settling on first the tipped drawers, then the blanket still heaped on the floor and finally settling on Remus himself. He zeroed in on the arm he was still holding, prompting the darker side to drop it immediately even though it was too late. Silently Logan held out his hand and looked imploringly at Remus, starting him to comply.

"I know. And it's alright Remus it truly is. I just want to help."

Confused but intrigued Rrmus let his hands be taken and tugged to the bed, giving a half hearted eye brow wiggled that earned a small smirk from Logan before he snapped up a first aid kit. He carefully rolled up the sleeve, not even flinching as the mess was revealed to him. Five babywipes and a roll of gauze later his arm was bandaged neatly, causing him to look questioningly at the other.

"How are you so calm about this? You don't"

"No. But I know basic first aid." Logan sat back and looked up at him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Remus looked up and away, tugging his sleeve back down and wincing at the dull ache the action caused. "I made Roman mad because I was being stupid-"

"Falsehood. Try again."

Snapping his head back he opened and shut his mouth before blurting out another excuse. "Roman yelled because I was being impulsive-"

"Nope. Again."

"I was-"

"Remus." Logans tone effectively shutting him up he couldn't help but squirm in confusion. "You didn't do anything. Maybe you could have discussed the....creative take you were going with with your design, but you had split the batch had you not? Roman should have stayed out of what you were doing with yours."

"You were watching?"

"I wanted to make sure no one got hurt. You two tend to become physical and I was there to expel any conflict should it turn violent. I was not however, prepared for a one sided screaming match. Roman has been stressed and while that isn't an excuse it isn't a new occurrence. Why was this-" Logan gestured to his arm. "Done as a stress response? You've argued before haven't you?"

Remus twisted his fingers together. "My head gets loud. And bad. Sometimes I'm afraid I'll make Thomas hurt something, so I hurt instead to calm it for a while."

Logan nodded. "That's perfectly understandable."

"It is?"

"Unhealthy. But yes, understandable. I will ask that you try finding a less destructive way to calm these thoughts. You may think this is helping Thomas but I assure you he'd much rather work with you in a healthy way than you destroying yourself in the background."

Slowly, Remus blinked down at him. "What?"

"I said-"

"I know what you said I just...why do you care?"

Logan stood. "Why wouldn't I? You are an integral part of who we are and as unconventional as you may be at times, you are still apart of the family. I care a great deal."

He said this flippantly, as if it was obvious, completely oblivious to the way it took Remus' breath and heart and soul and made him want to projectile vomit it onto the floor in front of the other man's feet.

"You really care?" Remus blurts out quietly.

"Of course." Logams reply is simple, logical. Clipped but with an undertone that was unmistakably kind even with the impassivity he was attempting to pull off. He sucked in a breath as a hand was extended to him, looking up with a raised eyebrow.

"I thought you might like company, and it might be a good idea to not be in this room right now. Staying in a place of hurt often makes you want to continue the hurt and I'd rather it cease for today."

Hesitantly Remus took the offered hand and followed Logan out the door and into another room lined with books and posters and odd sciencey bits and baubles. He immediately gravitated towards the bookshelf after getting a nod of consent from the owner, plopping down and curling to the side to read the spines. Feeling a nudge he turned and was met with a plate with a few of his cookie creations placed neatly on it.

"Some weren't knocked down and were salvageable. The chip placement makes for a very symmetrical taste experience that I quite enjoy." Remus looked on in amazement as Logan prattled on, taking a cookie for himself and watching Logan take two before sitting down at his desk to eat and work. Grinning to himself he stuffed the rest of the treats in his mouth and bent at a different angle to read book titles again, sharing the silence with the other side contentedly.

He still felt bad and useless and a million other things at once that crawled beneath his skin and raged against his nerves. He looked over at Logan happily munching away at the crude cookie making him smile wider.

He still felt shitty but maybe there were things he didnt ruin after all.

This work and others is available on AO3!

Please do not tag duke don't look.

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

20. Sink

Word Count: 3989 Trigger warnings for religion and mentions of child pornography

Previous

Lord, if it’s you,” (Simon) Peter replied, “tell me to come to you on the water.” “Come,” he said. Then (Simon) Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!”

Matthew 14:28-30

Simon had never been very religious. Scratch that… Simon had never been very mystical about religion. Whenever he was younger, his family went to church and he was quite studious and learned a lot in that time period. His father still believed in God and country or whatever and his grandmother, he imagined was praying over his mom every single day. But, he had never really known what it felt like to have that kind of faith in anyone or anything… until he was given Grace. It wasn’t lost on him the religious implications of being a boy named Simon (like Simon Peter, aka The Apostle Peter - huge name in the Bible world) being granted a savior, being blessed with Grace after a terrible sin, whether intentional or not, of killing Hope… His mind was in a daze right now. 

It was the fourth religious dream he had since that interview, and in this one, he was Simon Peter, calling to his Savior in the storm. Grace was just across the water. All he had to do was get to her and she would rescue him from all of this, just like she always used to. But, he looked at the impending storm, instead. He had Grace, but he was focused on the storm, and he sank… He jumped up from his sleep and literally felt like he had been drowning. Ugh. 10 years of church and 4 years of private school could definitely mess with one’s mind. Then again, so could 6 years of Grace and 5 years without it… her… 

He had begun to try to stop rationalizing that she wasn’t human. Unfortunately for him, before he considered her the void, she hadn’t been human for him either, then. She had been a deity. He worshipped her. She had been a vessel to save him, to help him, to comfort him. She had been what he built his faith system upon, his religion, his Apex, his lifestyle… Then, she was gone and he tried to continue without her. He tried to rebuild in his own image, in his own name. He tried to walk on water, as he had seen her do, now all he was doing was sinking…

In the aftermath of the interview, Simon noted that his faithful followers went on one of their ravenous attacks in Shana’s comment sections. She could even just post a photo of herself in the newsroom at Spelman as an inspirational post and they appeared in her comments to berate her for speaking about inspiration when she would attack an abuse survivor and have his abuser on her show, trying to make her sympathetic. Shana seemed entertained for some of the comments, replying things like a simple “K” or “Lol” and never addressing the person again, even if they supplied a melee of character attacks at her.

But, on the video link, whenever people started also attacking Grace’s fakeness and the fact that she still gets to abuse Simon indirectly by doing things like this, Shana had enough. She let them know that she had no regrets about the interview with Grace, no regrets about anything that she said about Simon, and none about all of her opinions of him. “Even if he’s a different person today, considering that he never got any backlash for the sex tape from high school, which i firmly STILL believe that he should be held accountable for, which I am convinced that he leaked, and I think that if he’s truly changed, he would have wanted to make that right at some point and free Grace from the uninvited attacks for that CRIME AGAINST HER, committed by him.”

There was an explosion of mixed reactions. Everything from, “This is the first that I’m hearing of this” to “Simon would never have done anything like that to Grace” to “WHERE CAN I FIND A SEX TAPE OF SIMON AND GRACE???” Many people were blocked. Many people were rocked, as Shana went live to address the massive amount of comments coming from her spilling that tea.

She made mention of the facts that while the statute of limitations of revenge porn had been exceeded, they didn’t exist for child porn. “And in case anybody is confused, yes, I am including links to inform you about how what he did is in fact child pornography creation, possession, and distribution, AND what the law says concerning them.” After replying to many of the comments, mostly in an amused fashion, she got bored. 

“Listen, I’m getting ready to go chill with my lady and get ready for class tomorrow, but I’ll just say this one more thing, “I’m not taking my foot off of Simon Laurent’s neck. As long as Grace has had to suffer in silence, because she’s no longer the vengeful type or whatever, she’s on right now in her journey, the journalist in me and the enraged victim in me will always come for Simon and the way he used the privilege that he did have - not to say that he didn’t lack in certain areas like money and common decency, but the ones he DID have - his race, his gender, his orientation, his proximity to education, etc, in order to vilify and humble this girl with false accusations of crimes, and get away with unconfessed crimes. Yeah, this IS about my Sassy Strawberry keychain, Simon you bitch! I know you watching. To those of you who can’t be bothered to use your Googles, I don’t know what to tell you, kinfolk. Shady Shana has said all that she needs to say for now. Tata, from the perfect place for shade.”

Then her accusations, the search for the information of said accusations and the buzz from back then resurfacing went even more viral than the things that he had said about Grace whenever he reached notoriety from the stories. Now that the Internet and social media were even bigger and just kept growing with time, Grace still being a huge public persona, despite the few short years that she wasn’t online and the time she had been inside, she made an explosive comeback at least as an Internet personality, and Simon was never as frequent online as he was a short time in the eye of the public to get himself established, but several professors had used his story for various seminars and lectures, his books did pretty well, and he was a very established young mind in his academic circles… So, he was a big deal in his world, but on the grand scale becoming infamous for this new attention. 

Shana and Grace’s worlds were very large, and both of those were combining to infiltrate his world with these not necessarily new pieces of information, but things that he thought would have been forgotten or left alone. He had not even considered that Shana would ever… Like… why was SHE so damn upset? Because of a small scuffle? Because of somebody else’s alleged injustice? Somebody that she didn’t even LIKE for most of her life? “Journalist” she was a shit-stirrer! All of her muckraking was making things complicated for simple Simon. He didn’t like that. He didn’t like dreaming about Grace as his savior. He didn’t like the idea of reaching out to her to get her to grab her dog. He didn’t like that he was suffering from nights more sleepless than usual and beginning to become counterproductive in his work.

Worrying about ramifications of the words “child pornography” and “sexual predator” being tossed about in conversations with his name led to nightmares, paranoia, guilt, intrusive thoughts, and mistakes in class and at work. One of them turned out big…

Amelia came up to him in her lab, with her arms folded and her face stern, “Is there anything you think we should discuss, Mr. Laurent?” He frowned and glanced her way, still working on the formula for the next tests in the prosthetics serum they were spending time discussing as one of his potential next big things. She raised her eyebrows and asked, “Not even an acknowledgment of what I’m speaking of?”

“I know what you’re speaking of and I decided that no, we don’t need to discuss it. It’s a personal matter.”

“A personal matter? Simon, you are supposed to be seeing a counsellor once a week, and now I find out that not only did he recommend that you see him twice a week, but that you haven’t seen him in several weeks! It is part of your ability to stay here, and I don’t appreciate that you’ve ducked out on this requirement, especially considering the personal matter you’re referring to.” 

He furrowed his eyebrows and set down his supplies. “This is about the shrink? I haven’t been able to see the guy, because I’ve been working on the new formula nonstop. I need a breakthrough, and if I can get the formula right for enhancing the prosthetics, I’ll be famous for that. I’ll be closer to the goal of enriching artificial organs, maybe even organic ones!”

“I know what this work would mean if successful. That isn’t the point. The point is that you are not allowed to be here without the help that you need and you agreed to. I’m going to have to speak to the committee, now that I know you haven’t been…” She turned and he caught her wrist really hard. The woman jerked away. She was stronger than he thought.

“Amelia… Please. I need this. People are out to get me. Out to destroy everything that I’ve built for myself, without parents, without love, without an inheritance. I got here on my own merit, my own mind! I can’t have it be the thing that gets me sent away.”

“You needed to consider that after we gave you another chance! We can’t keep going back and forth with you while you refuse to take the help that you need in order to get to your next rung!” She was loud. He felt like she was yelling at him. He didn’t like people yelling at him, especially women, especially older ones… It made him extremely angry and he yelled right back at her, only to find that she either hadn’t been yelling or she had an even louder yelling setting.

“I’M DOING MY GODDAMN BEST!”

“MAYBE YOUR BEST ISN’T GOOD ENOUGH!”

And in addition to the yelling, the thing yelled was extremely hurtful. But, Simon was an angry hurt type. So, he was hurt, but it manifested in anger, “LIKE YOURS WASN’T! YOU HATE ME BECAUSE I CAN BE A BETTER YOU!” She laughed. That made him even angrier. “ADMIT IT! YOU’RE SO HARD ON ME BECAUSE I AM BETTER THAN YOU!”

“Simon, you’re a child. A foolish, often incorrect child. There are many things that I credit as better than me. You aren’t one of them.” He was breathing hard and clenching his fists. “I advise you to immediately set an appointment with your therapist and I demand that you leave the lab at once. At the very least, you need to take a break. At worse… you broke our agreement, Simon.” She began to touch his research, to put everything away, as he stormed out, trying not to let her see him cry and trying not to explode in the lab and further mess things up for himself. He didn’t get far before there was a different explosion in there. Not an extremely loud one, but loud enough that he turned around as others rushed in. 

Simon got on the phone, calling the last counselor that he had spoken to as everyone else scurried about trying to get help and rushing in various directions. “She was just arguing with Laurent, he rushed out and then this happened,” he heard someone say and he watched the three students who had been talking stop and look right at him.  “Are you calling 911?” One of them asked. He shook his head, because he hadn’t been. Once again, it wasn’t his first thought when he witnessed an emergency. One of them grabbed their phone out, presumably to do so and he… left. He probably should have stayed, but he couldn’t breathe and needed some space and needed to rage.

.

It didn’t take others long to start whispering. Simon had found a dumpster to kick for a while before returning to the scene and seeing them rushing Amelia into an ambulance. Police were there and wanted to talk with him. He knew that people would talk. They had been talking. He also knew that sometimes he imagined that people were talking more than they actually were and he hoped that perhaps, this would be one of those times that he imagined the criticism. It was not.

On top of the internet’s allegations of child pornography, learning that the state of California might be investigating these allegations, for the Monroe Estate, and being questioned about his chemical engineering “mistake” with the formula that became unstable as Professor Hughes attempted to put it away… 

Simon was whatever the opposite of numb was. He felt all things, everything, anything, all at once and at a peak. He hadn’t felt this way in a really long time and the only times he had, he had Grace to think of and settle him. After that, he had his own greatness to reflect upon… but that was slipping away from him and Grace had slipped away… No… He had shoved her away, and he needed her so much right now. Because he didn’t know if he could pull himself up from sinking. “Lord save me!” He heard himself yelling from the water in the storm… But Grace couldn’t hear him. She was too far away, and she wasn’t his savior anymore. He looked up for something to latch onto, but all there was, was the Void.

Its big black, form, with an aura of fluid black smoke, and hovered over him and charged at him, its face stopping just short of his own and he looked up to see it. It was nothing but a pale mask, much like one of the ones that Grace used to wear. Maybe… Maybe she was still inside of the void somewhere. Maybe she would rescue him after all. “Grace?” he called, “Is that you?” It had nothing in it’s face. No feeling, no warmth. There was no way that Grace was there. It had no reply. He blinked it away and looked at the police. They had just released him… so… something had saved him… for now. Probably just dumb luck, or lack of evidence. There had to be a lack of evidence, because he knew that he had done nothing wrong.

Despite having done nothing wrong, he had apparently made some type of mistake with the formula, but he figured it was more likely that Amelia had made some mistake in putting it away. It was too soon to voice that opinion. Students were upset, like she was some lovable figure. She was a bitch. He didn’t feel bad at all that she was hurt and he hoped that nobody expected him to act like he did. But, they were talking again. He felt like whenever he was a freshman at the academy and the staff and students didn’t appreciate him because they hadn’t seen his value yet… but these people knew him. He was important! He was significant now! He had done everything to become valuable and honored, including giving up Grace when she was holding him back! 

“Simon, it sounds like you’re just blaming everyone else for your problems again.”

“I’m only saying what happened. I matter, and they treat me like I don’t. They look at me like I’m a criminal. They’re handling me like I haven’t done great things! Like they haven’t heard of me or something! Who do they think they are?”

“To not value you? Maybe they’re just strangers, Simon. You’ve spoken to me a few times, and I don’t know you, either. That doesn’t take away from anything that you might have done, but it doesn’t give me the insight that you have of yourself. The same can be said about any of the people here,” the counsellor said. Simon resumed his meetings, but it was too little too late, as he was called back to the committee.

.

Grace was really just trying to enjoy her life. She only did the interview with Shana because Shana had REALLY come through in finding Hazel for her. She explained to the people keeping Hazel how she knew her and how she found her (not mentioning Shana’s name, but that she “hired an investigator”) mainly because she just wanted to see how Hazel was doing. The short answer was “not great,” but the long answer was Grace hated the fact that everyone that she talked to about Hazel didn’t seem to really know her or how to deal with her. That made her afraid that Hazel would continue to get bounced around, and eventually be lost to her again. After being approved as someone who could visit and spend time with Hazel (a longer process than she would have liked, and one that she knew could have been shortened if she just went crawling back to her parents), but one that was worth the work, because not only was she able to see Hazel and talk to her, but she also got her a phone, in case they were separated again and Hazel needed to reach out to her. 

The last thing that Grace wanted to do was be dragged into Simon’s situation. So, whenever people asked her about him, sent her messages, intruded into her comments, @ her in posts… she declined from responding. She made a statement on her linked social media accounts, reminding everyone that 1. She doesn’t speak about Simon. 2. She said everything that she intended to say to people outside of the situation to Shana in the interview. 3. She is not responsible for Shana’s feelings about the incident in question (the recording and sharing of the recording) 4. She has never spoken to anyone but Simon about the incident in question and doesn’t plan on going much more in depth with anybody about it any time soon. 

Whenever asked about the recording, since she did say in the statement that she had spoken with Simon about it, and it was presumed that meant that maybe they had made it together and it got leaked, as those things tend to do, she confirmed that she didn’t know anything about the recording until after everyone else had seen it, that she doesn’t like to think about it or that time in her life because it was one of her most embarrassing and painful experiences and she doesn’t want to have to relive it simply because people are curious about these details that don’t affect them one way or another…

People were relentless and dedicated to being in other people’s business. What about Simon? It affects Simon! Why aren’t you helping clear Simon’s name? Why are you still hurting Simon? What about affecting Simon? She’d punch every last one of these people in the mouth, just like she did Simon when she found out, if they were in front of her. Even, now, being  someone trying very hard to be peaceful and patient… “Simon already knows everything about that time that I would be able to say, so telling anyone else anything wouldn’t help him or me. If I was silent about it whenever it might have actually changed my trajectory in a favorable way, I’m certainly not going to begin going off about it now that I’ve been given another chance at a positive life, despite the things that caused me pain. Simon knows more than I do and more than you. Perhaps you should ask him, if you want someone who doesn’t seem to mind speaking about these subjects.”

That was what did it. Simon watched in a panic as former Apex members, arose to defend Grace and admit that during the time, Simon was open with certain people about having orchestrated the recording and using it to oust Grace from her throne. “We were mean kids, and I don’t know if we thought far ahead enough to really see what something like that could do to somebody. We all found it either funny or scary and weren’t brave enough to stand up for her back then, but Grace did nothing wrong and people should let her live her life instead of bringing this back up and hurting her again.” They basically all said some variation of that.

He became immediately notorious as #GraceDidNothingWrong began trending and multiple Apex members, former nonessentials, declared nulls, and actual victims of some of Simon’s direct attacks come forward, opening up about their experiences with Simon’s Apex, the Apex in general, including anecdotes, quotes, confessions, etc to further prove Simon’s guilt. To top it off Simon was put on academic probation as everything unfolded including the way he had been handling his psychiatric deal with the committee being unmet and the negligence that led to Professor Hughes’ accident. When he began losing various deals, gets major backlash for the accident, on top of the allegations of child pornography being investigated, he began to spiral as he considered possible charges from CA to MA. He deleted all of his social media accounts and shadow cyberstalked Grace, only to see that she really wasn’t participating in all of this.

He was SO CLOSE to his first Master’s degree. He couldn’t let all of this throw away his future! He was young and stupid and maybe he was wrong, but he wasn’t going to say that and he definitely didn’t feel like he deserved to be punished for it right now! 

He had been trying not to think about that interview, but the more he tried not to think about it, the more he obsessed over it - over her wondering how he was doing, over the potential for her to actually still care. It was so stupid. It was foolish. There was no way that she really felt like that, but all of his distraction had caused him to possibly make some type of stupid mistake. The police were investigating, but he was the main one working in the lab, so whatever happened was most likely due to some type of misstep on his part. He certainly had not rigged anything to explode in Professor Hughes’ face, like some seemed to be trying to suggest! 

The fact that they did not get along wasn’t very helpful to him. The argument right before it happened made it even more suspicious, and where they should have been able to speak with his psychiatrist to ensure that he was doing fine… he hadn’t been consistent with any long enough for them to know that he was doing fine… which brought attention back on him from the committee, which he guessed felt like he was jumping through loopholes in their deal. He saw the Void again, it's voice like a chorus of succubi singing, “I’ve come to take everything from you. It’s what you deserve.”

He rushed to the airport. He didn’t even have a place to stay. He rushed to the Monroe’s, snuck into their gate and beat on the door. It was 2 am, but he couldn’t wait. The Void was after him, and he NEEDED his Grace.

Next

[sometimesiwriteangst]

Hush, Little Liar - 3

Masterlist

In which Patton starts plotting!

Remus perhaps hadn’t made things easier for Deceit by poking at the scar, talking aloud about how gross it was that it was purple and wriggly.

But in his defence, he was intrusive thoughts alongside being part of creativity. And he hadn’t intended to make Deceit as upset as he became. And it wasn’t really his fault that at first opportunity Deceit had shoved both him and Logan out the room and locked it.

“Don’t worry about it,” Logan says, waving his attempts to explain off. “More importantly, this didn’t just happen naturally. Which means one of the other three must have done it.”

“Two!” Remus pipes up, “my brother would never.”

Logan hesitates, and immediately Remus glares at him.

“He. Would. Never.”

“I’m not saying he would,” Logan protests quickly, “just that we need to be sure.” At Remus’ angry face he softens slightly. “I don’t believe he’s the culprit. It’s just part of the procedure.”

Remus huffs, and Logan decides to ignore how that technically they should also be suspecting each other in that case.

“Don’t worry. We’ll fix this.” Logan smiles. “And we’ll talk to your brother first to rule him out.”

Patton watches from afar as the pair leave, discussing how to go about interrogating people. He’d known that someone would find out sooner or later. Admittedly, it was annoying that it was Logan who found out. But at least the logical side was convinced Patton was too stupid to plan things.

Especially to plan a cover up like he was about to have to do.

He shakes his head and gets going. If they were going to talk to Roman first then he had plenty of time. Maybe even enough time to pay a visit to Deceit afterwards!

He chuckles, wanting so desperately to see the scar he’d left again. He was sure he would never get tired of seeing it. And if he did, he’d just find new ways to appreciate the scar!

But first…

Deceit hates everything. He doesn’t want to move from his bed, simply curling up and throwing blankets over himself. He wanted to go and get food, but he was tired of having to work out the safest way to eat. He was certain there must be a simpler method than his current one. But after Patton found him googling workarounds for the lack of tongue his internet had mysteriously stopped working.

He hears knocking at the door and ignores it. He had no desire to see anyone right now. If it were Virgil or Roman, they’d be there to pester him about his absence again. If it were Logan or Remus they’d pity him and ask too many questions. And if it were Patton…

Patton rises up in his room.

Yes, if it were Patton, the side would find a way to get in regardless of how many barriers and locks he’d put up.

“Hey Dee!” Patton grins, and Deceit sits up quickly, determined not to make it easy for Patton to touch the scar again.

“So, first, we gotta talk...” Patton sits on the end of his bed, “see, Logan and Remus and the others are going to want you to use your phone to communicate – or even sign language! And, well...that’s fine, but, I can’t have you lying, or telling them I hurt you...”

Deceit narrows his eyes.

“So if you do either, then I need you to know that I will remove every one of your hands.”

Deceit freezes.

“But equally, if you tell them that it isn’t someone – yes, I spot that loophole – or in any way use the truth to tell them it was me and not somebody else, then I will not only cut off your hands, but I will also fill your ears with hot glue. Got it?”

Deceit flinches, rubbing his ears, the mention of it making them ache. But he nods.

Patton grins, clapping his hands excitedly, before wrestling Deceit down to the bed, trying and eventually succeeding in pinning the weaker side down. Just like every time. Deceit wasn’t listened to as much as Patton, and as such was always going to simply be...weaker.

It doesn’t stop Deceit from struggling and trying to wriggle out.

Just as it doesn’t stop Patton forcing his mouth open.

“Bite me and I’ll remove your teeth.”

Deceit cries just as he always does.