#might delete later I’m just wide awake and miserable

[binders-and-beanies]

Doin bad again folx

[todokanai-suishou]

Excerpt of a fic I didn’t know I still had

Vanilla Twilight - an excerpt of what used to be a ceo!JJK AU fanfic written at three AM somewhen in november. I don’t know why I didn’t choose names.

Neither do I know why I’m posting this. Good Night. WC: 2,4k

„As many times as I blink I'll think of You tonight“

It's been what? Three months now? Yeah, it must have been about three months since she told him „I don't want to see you again.“ Three Months since the love of his way too young life just stumbled out of it completely, three months since he's been drowning himself in work,

and yet, only two days since his father told him not to.“You need a break“ he said. „You'll die before you reach my age if you keep overworking like that.“ „Take a leave for the next week or so, the company won't go down in flames because you're missing for a few days.“

But yet it felt like the company was the only thing that held him together anymore. It may have been unhealthy to work that much, but sitting on his rooftop right now and starring at the sun that was setting wasn't any better. The company might not have missed him, but he missed her and if he was wide awake like that, from the lack of work or excercise to keep him from falling asleep as soon as he even saw a bed, it was worse.

There was nothing to distract him now. No means to make up for what he had done and no reason to not think of her this very second

on this very day, that once was so special to them both.

A tear ran down his face as he gripped the magnetic bracelets tighter with his left hand. Two years had passed since he's got his.

„If my heart was a house, you'd be home.“ they'd say. The compasses reacting to each other wildly, needles swinging left to right beneath the glass as the bracelets were pressed together.

At one point, after she left hers at his place that night, he stopped wearing his. Though for the time being, he still looked into the little flowery treasure chest in his closet to see if hers was still with his, Hoping she'd secretly somehow come to sneak in and steal it like she did his heart three years ago, or that it was all a bad dream and he woke up with her next to him like they did on every trip, or back somewhen two and a half years ago when she fell asleep in his apartment after watching some movie he didn't want to watch in first place. He still hoped, wished, dreamed he could go back to that.

And every time it was devastating. It was devastating to see her bracelet next to his, lying there and just pointing at the other as theirs would if they were within a few metres.

But she wasn't. And he had no idea where the hell she was. And it killed him. It killed him when he told her she'd never change, that he made her say good bye instead of letting her into his apartment, when he was the only one she trusted with her deepest thoughts, the only one she felt whole around and when she was the only one he ever really loved that loudly, and he didn't tell her until she walked out of his life,her still saying „I'm sorry“. When, to him, he was always the one that should be saying sorry for the things he said and did that night.

Or maybe they shouldve both just said sorry, talked it out.

He sighed „no.“ She made it clear that she didn't want to talk. She didn't want him to apologize, or at least not accept it. Letting her pride led by the pain get in the way ...and that was just what it was.

He created a hole in both their hearts and for a second he contemplated just throwing both of these bracelets down the 24th floor into the rose planted and flower filled garden, so he wouldn't find them even if he tried - and They could fall anywhere.

Another sigh from him as he clenched his hand tighter around the bracelets, holding them up as though he was ready to throw them as soon as the sun would have fully set.

But he didn't. He couldn't.

He just got flashbacks of that night when she gave it to him.

„I swear to god if you ever lose or break yours, or if I see another person with it, I'll kill you.“ she'd say smiling, but he fully knew she meant it. „There's only two of them“ „They were custom made.“ They were his blessing and now his curse. He looked up into the sky, somehow trying not to cry while it seemed like the same full moon from back then came to taunt him now, laughing at him with „Tsuki No Usagi“ laughing along at how pathetic he was.

But he cried. He cried a lot, clutching both of these bracelets over his heart. He couldn't do anything to them. He knew he wouldn't.

Except for the smell of her perfume on the couch pillow she prefered to lean her head on and hug, they were the only thing of hers that was still with him and he thought that maybe, just maybe...

in another universe he'd still be with her, with these bracelets.

And maybe in this world one day, he'll get her back, give her the bracelets and somehow everything goes back to normal. Despite the trust being broken, the wishful thinking didn't stop. A sillouette to build him up again.

However when  he cried his last, he didn't mean to get up. Something drew him to the stars that night. All he got was a blanket before tiredly making his way back up just to continue whatever he meant to do.

He fell asleep a few hours after getting the blanket she gave him, on the roof that night, in between looking up at the stars, looking up at the constellations trying to find the ones she tried to show him before. Failing miserably, like tonight, two years ago, and almost laughing through the tears he shed, at how she showed him a million times and he still couldn't figure out all that astrology stuff, or how they worked, and so “well”.

All he knew was that looking for even the slightest signs of stars and constellations in the sky, brought him a little closer to her.

Maybe she'd be looking up tonight too, probably in a different timezone, to a different time, he didn't know.

But what the did know was that for a second, while actually finding the little bear, he was happy. „I did it,love, I did it.“ For the first time in forever while thinking about her, he actually smiled.

It was a weird feeling of, not quiet feeling content, but better, a little less sad. Maybe he'd always spend like three hours just ripping strands of his black hair out while trying to find anything in the sky. Texting you like he did that night.

“And love, you won't see it, but, I did it. I found one of the constellations, I bet you'd be so proud now. I'm still lost though. I wish you were here with me. To tell me about all of them. And your days. And you and what I missed And see your probably already new hair do and hear you laugh and rant about your literature professor. I just want to see you. Hear you. Happy. And mostly I want to give you your bracelet. I can't even remember which one was yours though. Please remind me.”

A lie. He knew exactly her bracelet had a little slit on one of the wooden pearls, as he accidentally lost track of the knife while cooking. He was apologizing so many times that night while she yelled about him almost chopping her arm off and he almost had to laugh again. She raged that night, but eventually they'd laugh about it later on.

„JK, I'd never forget“ he wrote below a photo he sent. Him wearing his bracelet for once while looking at how the compasses searched for each other. Knowing well the photo wouldn’t reach her though. That she still had him blocked, yet...

Wondering if one day she'd search for him again. Knowing she'd be the only one who could find him instantly.

„Good Night, flower girl.

I Really Miss you terribly“

„Sincerely, me“ he typed, deleted „yours tru-“ deleted.

„- The dumb ass that almost chopped your arm off about 16 months ago.“

If she could read it, she'd no doubt, be laughing but for now he'd hoped someone else would make her laugh the way he used to.

That she could focus on her studies and not the loss of him and the few grams she no longer carried around with her.

He wished her to be as happy as he can't be right now, as happy as she can be and with other, possibly better people, who would treat her well. Also that she got better at smash bros and mario cart so people wouldn't laugh at her being terribly bad again.

„Maybe I should also take on drawing lessons“ he whispered before tiredly closing his eyes „but I guess if she ever found out, she'd be the one to almost cut my arm off“

slight reminders of her telling him the only thing she was really good at was drawing and how she showed him and he really didn't figure out how anything worked at all flashed in his mind as he calmed.

„I'll teach you“ and only she could.

Well, technically she couldn't. He was a hopeless case and they both knew. Clowns. Clowns in love, for she loved him as much as he loved her, but the words always stayed unsaid. She'd make an impression that she did the night he ruined her, but he was too far gone.

Never from her mind though. He was still what she'd draw on the weekend when she was not in the mood for her theses or working. He. Though painful, was still her healing in some kind of way.

„You're working on that again?“ Her new dorm mate said as she sketched his face from memory. They had a different model in the art class she enrolled in right now but the face portraits still always went back to him. Much like the pictures where someone posed with scrunched up noses or peace signs.

She really didn't mind it though, for some reason, unless she found the initial sketch of their bracelets, drawing him was therapeutic, falling asleep on those pictures was therapeutic.

And her just getting a hick up as she started sketching reminded her „If you get the hick-ups, someone's thinking about you. My mom used to say that.“ She laughed back when she told him one night at one of their week-end trips, half drunk and laughing. Him responding with „Yeah, or someone talks badly about you, my three times divorced and landlord-hated aunt said. She had a hick-up problem.“

More laughter to the backround noise of „if my heart was a house” followed by slurred lines of „sugar we're going down“ and „american idiot.“

She chuckled quietly. „Oh shut up, I want to sleep“ her roommate exclaimed. It wasn't that late though, was it?.

Seven pm, still early, the sun not yet setting. Yet, with the full moon above, she couldn't wait for the sunset, night fall.

She stared at her phone. „Approximately 15 Minutes till the sun starts setting and you usually can't fall asleep until it's getting cotton candy skied, what's wrong this time?“ a chuckle escaped her mouth.

„Bad break up.“ the other girl murmured. „That's the 4th time in 15 days. I think you should get a new guy.“ - „That's also the third in  a month. Love just doesn't work for me, believe me.“

„It will.“ The artist said. „Even if the person you think you'll end up with isn't the one, one day, with the right person, it all will.“

She didn't realize tears were falling on her piece of paper as she switched to his contact on her phone, contemplated unblocking him, but eventually she didn't.

It would be better this way. She said good bye and it was irreversible. It always was irreversible for her. Gripping her empty wrist and letting go of the pen for a while she smiled through the tears and said, in a cheerful yet shaky voice.

“Even if it wasn't him, one day, there's someone who won't leave, who you won't leave. One day, I promise.“

Not knowing if it was to reassure her friend, or herself and not realizing she held her breath, until she felt two arms and a blanket wrap around her signaling that „everything will be okay, precious, everything will be okay“

and for once, even without her telling the context of the story no one really knew about, she started to let down her walls and cry to let out the emotions all the parting had led her to.

Even if her friend didn't know or understand her infatuation with Jeons son. She just held her as though the fragile soul, whining loudly like a child that fell and came running with a bleeding knee, would break if she wasn't there to give her the warmth she deserved and obviously needed in that very second.

„You know, I miss him so much.“ a little inaudible whisper said and her friend didn't understand what she meant, but „shhh, shhh, it gets better.“ Came from her until her roommate fell into a deep slumber.

All she saw was the name on the display that wouldn't go off. The display picture looking quite familiar.

Name saying „Jeon Jeon Jeon“ and the caring one wondered if the girl had been catfished and dreams crushed by that person on screen, and if that was exactly why she blocked that number. Ideas about unblocking him and investigating filling her head but then again, as much as she wanted to. She couldn't just meddle in a broken hearts story, especially not her friends.

So she kept her theoretic, tangled and still curious thoughts, knowing they'd stay just that - and left the blanket above the girl that was fast asleep, closing the book with the drawing of the Jeon boy and replacing it with a pillow to slobber on, instead of the art she created.

„Good Night, lovely“ she said as she went outside to take snapshots of the sky, making sure to get her friends beloved constellations on camera, as the sleeping beauty usually did herself. Sneaking in trying not to wake the other up again.

„Good Night, dumbass“ the artist almost fully asleep whispered as her friend said good night the way he did. Some things wouldn't fade and her roommates complaints the next morning, for insulting her, though accidentally, would be surely be one of those.  

__________________________

It’s 3am and I have no idea why I’m posting this. 

The Idea Of “Vanilla Twilight” is part of a ceo!Jungkook fanfiction I never posted because I usually don’t post my writing for..uh...reasons. 

“If my heart was a house -” fanfiction was created on national novel writing month and is a full on trainwreck that might never be finished. The Name as Well as reasons for the writing & inspiration for the bracelet design is lowkey because “if my heart was a house, you’d be home” by Owl City was kind of their Song since they first met and they do be soulmates so... >-<

Said magnetic bracelets stam from the line “if my heart was a compass you’d be north” and basically have magnets pulling “needles” towards eachother whenever they’re close. (They’re custom made, which is why they’re that special to OC & him. Also expensive as hell and she’s a poor lit/art student.) It was partially brought up by OC in a former chapter after they lost eachother at a fully crowded market and didn’t find eachother again for about two hours despite being like 2 minutes away from eachother the whole time. 

I don’t even know why I’m writing this it’s three AM lord help. Good Night. 

[alovelylight]

beauty is truth and terror

Summary: soulmate au where your tattoo gains life and color once you fall in love with your soulmate

Pairing: Jily

Words: 1,757

There’s a lily blooming in front of his heart and he spends his life before her wondering what color it should be – white for purity? Scarlet for sin and sacrifice? Orange for desire and passion? He guesses it is all of them – after all, we are made up of multitudes.

There are two antlers patterned on her rib cage and in her dreams they grow tall and strong enough to pierce the whole sky. She wonders if she can grow to be like these prongs, big enough to fill up a whole expanse of constellations.

--

At the beginning of this story, James Potter is all knee scabs and messy hair and precocious chatter. Lily Evans is all butterfly hairclips and full smiles and relentless strings of questions.

He spends most of science class annoyed at the distractions of her dark red hair, the marks of paint on her arms, the green-eyed glare she sends his way when he pulls at her ponytail. She stands up for Sev against his taunts, stares down at him with monochromatic lens, and believes too hastily in the gilded love in her storybooks.

One day she shows up to class with her arm in a cast, although he sees no other sign of brokenness about her. She was playing at the park with Severus Snape and had slipped from the swings, although he is too eager to insist that it was slimy Snape’s doing. This causes her to yell at him, in that earth-shaking and thunderous way she does, and the storm between them wages on.

They reach an unspoken truce when, seven weeks later, the cast comes off and the hairs on her mended arm has become darker and longer out of lack of sunlight. Several boys in class crowd around her, nasty grins on their faces, slapping her with juvenile insults of hairy arse and monkey and Tarzan in drag.

James Potter rises to his fullest height and punches all of them square in the face.

--

Petunia tells her to suck in her stomach. At almost-sixteen – two years Lily’s senior – Petunia insists on knowing the roads and highways of the world of women, as if the appliance of lipstick is the hallmark of maturity. Lily challenges her on this, and they don’t talk for a long time.

On her thirteenth birthday, Mary, Marlene, and Dorcas take her to the beach, where she collects seashells and swims in a swimsuit that didn't fit her skin just right. A beautiful woman, older but not old, hips wide but not fat, wades into the sea – a soulmate mark in the shape of a crashing wave around her neck – and Lily knows then that she wants to be just like that.

She doesn’t want to be Petunia’s idea of woman, perfect nails and hairless legs and impeccable hair, a door open for perfection in place of her raw, messy heart. She doesn’t know what she will be – with her stinging tongue and hairy arms and saggy stomach, she just spills over the lines of what she learns a girl should be.

She tries to tell her best friend this, but Sev has bigger problems; his dad just lost his job at Cokeworth’s paper factory, his mom is losing herself bit by bit to cigarettes and drink, and he himself is a gangly, sour-eyed mess of a boy. Lily gives Sev half the birthday seashells (even if he claims to hate all pretty things) and they climb onto the balcony to count the January stars.

She will always wonder what his soulmate mark is. He never told her.

Potter sends her a copy of Anne of Green Gables as a surprise gift. She frowns over possible ulterior motives, but decides to give him the benefit of the doubt. When she gets to the part where Anne Shirley breaks a slate over Gilbert Blythe’s head for his calling her ‘carrots,’ there is an annotation on the sidelines that reads: They took a leaf out of our book, Evans.

She smiles.

--

James loses his virginity to an eighteen-year-old whose name he doesn’t know. The girl’s mark – he couldn’t remember what it was – nestles between her breasts and all he could think of during the drunken quick-and-clumsy tumble was lilies, lilies, lilies. White, scarlet, orange.

But he doesn’t think of her name.

Around her, he is all boastful talk and boyish flirtation, clammy palms and stumbling heartbeat. Sirius teases him mercilessly about having the same mark as the flower in her name, and with any other girl this might encourage him even further, but with Lily Evans it just makes the aching storm in his stomach much louder and bigger.

Meanwhile, Lily wills herself to stop finding Severus everywhere she goes. She’s never been good at letting go, never been eager to cut her losses and accept defeat, but she has to do this, needs to do this. She tosses away all his cigarettes, returns his chemistry books, deletes his number, unfriends him on Facebook even though he never even opens Facebook.

She is fifteen, more of an almost-woman than a girl, and she has never been more miserable.

She wonders if she even knows what a friend is anymore. Her first was Petunia, the elder sister who could do no wrong, who wore her makeup like armor and unsheathed her sharp tongue like a sword. That was before they drifted apart, years of petty fights and stinging comments and taking each other for granted built up into a rubble too high to climb over.

Despite herself, she finds herself walking to the dreary creek she and Sev used to play pirates in, thinking of summers where they lost themselves in blue skies and apple trees and mindless chatter. Then she thought of the tiresome back-and-forth of fighting and forgiving, the past year of Mulciber and Avery looming overhead their friendship, their stilted conversations as they try to navigate common ground that doesn’t involve social politics or immigration laws, lest Sev showed his colors of bigotry.

Marlene tells her to start taking people at their face value. “Stop trying to find signs and deeper meanings in everything, love. Sometimes shit people are just shit.”

–

She traces the prongs on her body with a light fingertip and wonders about all the mysteries that lay beneath. She is standing naked in front of her bathroom mirror, her curtain of red hair spilling behind her shoulders. On one hand she is holding up a pair of scissors.

Mary is convinced that cutting her long, thick hair is a terrible sin, while Marlene and Dorcas seem to support her decision, rash as it may seem. Over the summer, Marlene refashioned her hair into a pink pixie (to the detriment of her traditionalist parents), so she ought to know the significance of a makeover.

When the deed is done, Lily’s hair barely grazes her collarbone, and she feels light. Not light enough to heave the whole world from her shoulders, but it is enough for now.

On Monday, Potter’s eyes widened – just slightly – as he took her in. They are biology lab partners, and his chatter is one of the few things keeping her awake so early in the morning.

(“You are a changed person, Evans,” he whistles. “What next, you wear green sneakers instead of white?”

“You’re thinking ahead for once,” she smirks.

“Well, one of us has to.”)

She joins his ‘solo study group’ and meets with him in the library every Tuesday and Thursday, where they did less revising and more of sneaking chips under the table and taking the mickey out of each other. They go through two weeks before evacuating to the toasty coffee-shop down the street, after she saw Severus scowling at them from behind a library computer.

He’s still a little arrogant, a little immature, his hair a manmade mess and his swagger making him look like a cock of the walk. But she smiles a little more when he’s around.

--

He takes her out to a fish and chips shop for her seventeenth. From where he’s standing, Lily glows like a fucking night light in the dark, her hair the color of beautiful wildfire. Their date – for that is what it is, in his mind – passes by in a whirl of laughter and warmth.

“So,” she jabs at him. “What plans have you got after school?”

He makes a face. “No clue. I figure I’d live off some rich cougar’s generosities.” She snorts. “And help around with my parents’ philanthropic charities, continue the benevolent Potter legacy.”

“That’s surprising,” Lily smirks. “I always thought you were particularly Laodicean.”

“Christ, and you call me posh? I’m not the one using words like Lao-whosit.”

“Yeah, but I’m the right kind of posh, see.”

“Oh, so you think you’re better than the rest of us lowly mortals because you read every Jane bloody Austen novel and can recite John Keats at the drop of a hat?”

“Well, I’m never one to deny my own achievements,” she dusts the salt off her fingers on a napkin, “and don’t pretend that youdon’t like it.”

His hand pauses around a glass of water. She reddens, but just a little – she is too much of herself to be embarrassed. “I do. Like it, I mean – I like every part of you.”

“I like you too, you fool,” she squeezes his hand. James’ heart feels like it’s about to jump out of his chest and conquer the whole universe. “Is this the part where you ask me out? Properly and not in a pigheaded way, like all the other times.”

“You’re right. I’m too young and beautiful to waste anymore of my love life.”

She kicks his shin. “James.”

“Lily. Alright, alright would you do me the amazing, magnificent, utterly wonderful honor of being my – er, girlfriend?”

“Yes, I believe that’s the word. Mind you, I’m a fan of holding hands.”

“And I’m rather fond of – if it’s not vulgar of me to say so – cuddling.”

She playfully places a hand over her lips. “Potter! Do you kiss girls with that mouth?”

“You wanna find out?”

--

The lily glows in a hundred lights, different shades of orange or red or pearly whites on different days. It comes alive on his skin, formed into it like the love in his lungs.

The prongs grow enough antlers until they are connected, right at the dip of her breasts. He spends many mornings lazily trailing the lines with his tongues, fingers, eyes, and she feels complete.

[d3ndroica]

Big Apple 3

Part 1    Part 2   (1 + 2 were a slooow start on this one I know ...)

Madge woke to the voices of her neighbors carrying through the apartment wall. Her head hurt. She needed to pee and she was dehydrated. She cracked her eyes open and immediately regretted it. The sunlight through the window seemed obscenely bright. Too much margarita.

She should’ve taken a water bottle last night. Instead she had limited herself to what fit in the tiny cute purse, which was by far the best accessory for the club-worthy dress. The bar had been so crowded she hadn’t gotten enough water. She scrunched her eyes closed and pulled the blanket over her head.

She’d had some water though. She remembered Thom’s friend Gale handing her a glass. Unless he’d roofied it! she thought. Suddenly she was wide awake. But no, that didn’t make sense. He was gay. And she was alone, in her own bed, wearing normal pajamas and not feeling at all abused - except for the hangover. Grumpy, she peered out from the blanket enough to grab her phone from next to the bed. Luckily she’d remembered to plug it in. 

Shit. It was after noon already. She blearily stared at her phone until she could make sense of the icons on the screen.

Her feeds showed a bunch of pictures from the night before, thanks mostly to Thom. She had a couple new friend requests and a few requests accepted. In the accepted category were Rue Jones, Beetee Mortara, and Venia Curlew. In the friend request category were Cashmere Coulson and Gale Hawthorne. Madge didn’t really remember much about Cashmere, but she was “friends” with Thom, Venia, and Beetee. The only mutual “friend” with Gale was Thom. No surprise there. But she wasn’t sure that Thom befriending his exes transferred to her. 

She looked at his public pics. She remembered him being around a lot the night before. She thought back and recalled lots of chatting and laughing with Thom’s friends, including Gale, but was that really reason enough to friend him? She decided to wait until later to deal with the friend requests. She scrolled mindlessly through her news feed for a bit before she switched apps to check her texts.

There were two new notifications: one from Thom and one from an unknown number. Weird. She opened Thom’s first. Just the usual back and forth about making it home safely and some vague messages from him about the night before. At the moment, she really didn’t care. Then she opened the other.  212-867-5309 2:28am thanks for a fun nite did you get home OK? 212-867-5309 2:42am Thom says you texted him so I guess you’re off the hook. Goodnight princess 212-867-5309 11:02am um this is Gale btw Madge stared. Princess? Oh shit. What had she told him? Or had Thom? Almost automatically Madge went about changing the name of the contact to his name instead of the number. But she was distracted thinking about him calling her princess. Thom knew about her 3 misguided years of princess pageant competitions and the state “Little Miss Princess” crown she’d won when she was nine, before the cancer changed things. Thom had heard far more than anyone should have to after her mom’s relapse. But that was years ago, and even though she knew it amused him, she didn’t think he’d have brought it up. Plus, she’d been surrounded by beautiful people in the entertainment industry last night. Pageant stories would have gone over much better than cancer lab stories.

Madge closed her eyes and it came back to her. Someone - it was Cashmere, Madge thought - had been talking about stage moms. And Madge had a few stories about stage moms. So she had divulged that little history. It was not exactly her deepest darkest secret but it wasn’t exactly the first impression she wanted to make on these new people either. But now she remembered. Gale had been there, he’d called her princess then too. An image of him from the night before crystallized in her mind, his face bright with laughter, magnetic eyes that took her breath away. Shit, she blushed just to remember. 

Maybe if she was lucky, they would all have collective amnesia about last night. Or she’d just never talk to him again. Or anyone else who’d been in earshot. Shit.

She put down the phone and decided to finally roll her butt out of bed. After getting cleaned up and eating some cereal, she shlepped a bag of laundry down to the laundry room only to find that of course, all the machines were taken. There was a guy in one of the chairs reading a book, and a basket of filthy looking laundry next to him, so Madge just gave up and went back upstairs. She lazed around for the afternoon and managed to claim an empty laundry machine after dinner. She settled down with her current book - Lab Girl, a book her dad had sent with her. He’d probably picked it based on the title. She’d just rotated the first load and started the second when her phone pinged. Thom 9:40pm What’s happening Madge 9:41pm Laundry Thom 9:42pm Laundromat? Madge 9:42pm In bldg basement Thom 9:44pm Nice! That’s better at least Madge 9:45pm Last night was fun. I’m glad you talked me into it. How r u? Thom 9:45pm <link> It linked to a YouTube clip of Kevin Sorbo, in Hercules, screaming “disappointed!” Madge laughed at the virally-misinterpreted homage to Kevin Kline. If you chose to believe Sorbo’s version of events, which Madge did. 

Madge 9:46pm Teehee Feeling misunderstood? Thom 9:48 pm my lot in life. But woman, the thing about today is that we both went home alone last night and now it’s a miserable day and I had to wake up to the vocal stylings of Annie and Finn going at it next door. Again. And I wouldn’t have even gotten out of bed but I had a stupid matinee which I hate.

Madge 9:48pm Sorry :-/ So how’d it go? Did you get any sleep last night? Thom 9:49pm I got some and I’m home now so crashing soon.  You’re totally missing the point I don’t need sleep a need a fuck I’m such a mess listen to me blathering What did you think of Gale you two talked a lot Madge 9:50pm Yeah he seemed nice Thom 9:51pm He’s hot right Madge 9:53pm Totally hot, last night was like a beautiful person parade I can’t believe you let me tell stage mom stories Thom 9:55pm You know I love those stories  They’re really not as embarrassing as you think  Madge 9:56pm Maybe in your world I have enough trouble as it is fighting pretty blonde girl syndrome at work Thom 9:56pm Lucky for you it was my world last night then RIGHT? Screw them. Leave that work shit at work You do you 

Madge 9:57pm Yeah yeah So ... What about that Cinna guy he seemed into you Thom 9:59pm I thought so but I dunno I need to stop worry about everything so much RIGHT Did I tell you I have 2 casting calls this week my anxiety is through the roof

Madge 10:02pm You told me but I forgot. What are they for again? 

Thom 10:07pm Commercials. It’s stupid but the money is insane. If you can sell.

Madge 10:09pm Totally. I hoep they go well.  If you need any help learning crazy drug names you know where to go ;-)

Thom 10:10pm Haha, that would be awesome. Watch out you might get wrangled into running lines with me again

Madge 10:12pm That was so much fun you know I’d do it again in the heartbeat. Especially if we can stay up late and eat ice cream. :)

Thom 10:14pm I’m so glad you moved here Maddie, we’re gonna have so much fun 

Madge 10:15pm So much :)

Monday came and Madge went back to her weekday routine. She had finished all the paperwork and trainings at the research center, and she was finally being assigned an experiment. She wouldn’t lead it herself, as new as she was, but she was excited to finally get back in a lab, working with a couple of phd researchers who had developed the protocols. She still had at least a week or two of practicing the new methods before she began actual experiments, but it still felt like progress. She also heard from her friend Delly who wanted to know all about her exciting life in NYC - an idea the pictures from Saturday only seemed to confirm. She grilled Madge on all the people she’d met and things she’d done and claimed she had to live vicariously through Madge because grad school was so hard. Madge encouraged Delly to come for a weekend sometime.

Thursday night she joined some women from the lab at a happy hour.  They went to a basement bar close to the research center, and drank cocktails that the others called “cheap” which apparently they applied to anything under ten dollars. On the upside, the coworkers were pretty friendly and she heard about lots of different subcultures in the city. One told her about contra dancing. Another was into board games … she’d even been to a board game convention the year before. One was a runner, was training for a marathon, and loved trivia nights. It was fun, learning a bit about them. By the time she said goodbye, it was almost 8 o’clock.  She looked at her phone to confirm how to get to the subway, and saw a new text notification. Once Madge was on her train heading home, she opened up her phone again and replied.

Gale 6:48pm  hi 

Madge 8:01pm Hi How are you? Gale 8:04pm alright you? Madge 8:05pm Ok Gale 8:07pm going out this wkend? Madge 8:09pm IDK maybe OMW home from happy hour

Gale 8:10pm you should use a safety text Madge 8:15pm What’s that? Gale 8:18pm pick a string of emojis that means you’re home safe. Then you always send it after a night out. Then we know you’re really safe and it’s not some psycho who kidnapped you or stole your phone or something Madge 8:22pm Ohhkay

Madge 8:24pm How worried should I be about these psychos? Gale 8:24pm lol don’t worry too much. But you should delete that conversation just to be safe. 😉 Madge 8:25pm So do you have safety emojis? Gale 8:29pm of course Madge 8:34pm And? What are they? Gale 8:41pm um no comment Madge 8:44pm Come on! How will I know you’re home safe and not kidnapped by psychos  :P  (home btw)

Gale 8:47pm well don’t judge me  but it’s🖕⛄️🐸

Madge 8:48pm Lol Nice one. Is there a story behind that? Gale 8:50pm  it seemed good at the time what about you? Madge 8:56pm I’m looking … TBH I am not that big an emoji user I can’t really believe the options now that I’m looking.  Maybe I should use 🙈🙊 Gale 8:56pm lol that’s terrible

Madge 9:07pm ok 👣🍿🎵

Gale 9:09pm 👍

[fangirlinginleatherboots]

I'm not sure if you're awake right now but I wanna ask, can you describe some things your ocd causes(I don't know if that's a good word to use but it's all I can think of) you to do? I'm wanting to write a story involving a character with ocd, while I'm doing research I remembered (I might be wrong though so feel free to correct me) that I think you said somewhere before you had it and since you kind of inspire me to go after things I thought I ask. If it's too personal feel free to delete!

Also, ocd story anon, I read that trauma can be a cause of ocd, do you believe that your ocd could've come from your trauma?

This is a very very long response going into a few of my (and some alters) OCD traits and some reasoning behind them and the range of responses I have to various triggers. It actually helps me analyze my traits better when ppl ask stuff like this so I may have gone overboard as stuff kinda clicked in my brain but hopefully somewhere in here you will get your answer.

So, I’m going to start with the last question first. MY OCD was not caused by my trauma, however my traumas have completely shaped my compulsions and obsessions to a point where my OCD traits are almost inseparable from my PTSD. See, I’m autistic, and OCD is part of this co-morbidity package a lot of autistic people end up with, to a point where the co-morbid disorders are often not even diagnosed after the autism is because its that common. (They’ll diagnose separately if you need treatment for one of them. like the reason i have ADHD and OCD listed as dx’s is because the doctors count them separately on me bc i need medication for them, but they’re extremely common to the point of being expected with most ASD dxs)

Yes, I have OCD and have always had, but my trauma caused so much anxiety that the disorder reshaped itself around specific triggers. There are many layers to my OCD, it’s actually a strange sort of nonspecific looking presentation because of how many alters also have OCD, so it becomes difficult to tell who has which O and C thus there being a lot of inconsistency in whether or not a trigger affects me.

It’s also worth nothing that some doctor’s feel that I fit under the specific label of “scrupulosity” or rOCD (Religious OCD) because of how much of my stuff revolves around religion. I don’t always agree that it’s this because while my O and C are based on religious themes, I don’t believe in the concepts behind the things. I believe most of the religious stuff is just from religious trauma.

On one layer, I have a number obsession. There are certain numbers that are tolerable, a few that are “cursed,” and one that is “blessed” and one that is “perfect.” I will do anything to change things to match my blessed and perfect numbers. I will even fudge the truth a little (not a lie, often an exaggeration, by about one or two digits) to make something fit those numbers. To randomly come across a cursed number or even just a slightly intolerable one, makes me very anxious and can shape how i spend my day and how much time i spend with my better numbers. The way my trauma shaped this compulsion was that my numbers tie to religious stuff, since my traumatic environment was often religious, or trauma would be inflicted with religious reasons.

There is an alter that has a compulsion to say a prayer. When we have intrusive thoughts (which you super need to research if you’re writing OCD bc it is a KEY PART of the disorder but ill go into it later here), someone starts reciting the prayer. Sometimes I will as well just because it’s easier to go along with it. Not completing the prayer is not an option. I mean that with absolutely every intent. Not completing the prayer is NOT AN OPTION. It does elieviate some background anxiety, so whoever is dealing with that is being helped by the compulsion, but it is extremely frustrating and upsetting, especially since i am as non-religious as i can possibly manage to be. The prayer is also said whenever something is uneasy or something triggers specific flashbacks.

One of the most obviously noticeable and upsetting for all involved O and C is being “dirty.” There’s a VERY wide range of triggers here, from actually dirty/germy/unclean things, to unpleasant/intolerable sensory triggers, all the way to conceptual dirtiness like sin, virginity, and lying. This can affect me subtly sometimes, like how i compulsively tell the truth and over share so that i feel clean or how i cannot go to sleep after a fight if it has not been resolved. (”never go to bed angry” they said, well shit now i literally cant cool.) This can also hit me violently and to a point where I am a danger to myself. I worked at a movie theater for a summer some time ago and touched something that was a bad sensory feeling while cleaning a dirty theater. I then proceeded to scrub my hands in near-boiling water for almost fifteen minutes in the break room, broke down sobbing, and when I got home i sat under very very hot water in the shower until my skin was raw and red for days. It doesn’t often get to that point, but when it does, I’ve been held down for my own safety since I’ll literally rip my skin and bite myself to punish myself for being dirty. It is frequently bad enough that I will let myself do something “dirty” as a form of self harm since it seriously makes me miserable and sick. This stuff comes both from religious trauma and from just....crappy normal autism feelings and manifests as my most disabling OCD trait.

There are other things like closing drawers and straightening and arranging things that are done to feel that I am being “good” because of reprimands I received in the past that made me feel like I am “bad.” I am sometimes able to not act on these compulsions, though it takes conscious effort to choose not to. Whether or not this stems from trauma doesn’t really matter to me. I know that most of the fronting alters have these “little OCDs” be it through me or for their own reasons. Tia for instance has to keep things in the kitchen a certain way and Phoebe has to complete certain physical activities a certain way or else she gets upset or feels she did a very bad job/failed.Since I’m really just. going at this question lmao lets talk a little about intrusive thoughts. Intrusive thoughts are upsetting/disturbing/unacceptable thoughts you do not take pleasure in. For me, a few of them make me feel dirty, which triggers my compulsions very badly. Some relate to trauma, others don’t make sense. There are very common ones such as urges to kill or mutilate self or others, urges to do disastrous things (like causing a huge car accident), urges to do disgusting sexual acts (to self or others, often to unacceptable people like children, elders, and the undesired sex), urges to become a serial killer/rapist/shooter/etc, and other such painfully upsetting things such as those. These are often what fuel the obsessions in OCD and the compulsions are to make these thoughts stop or hurt less. Personally, I get a lot of sexual ones because of how poorly the topic was handled in my childhood. I get ones about elaborately slaughtering a specific abuser, about doing things that will kill me, about mutilating myself and mutilating pets (those are the ones that fuck me up the most i think), and about doing very destructive things that would harm a lot of people. I also get some about terrorism happening where I am, but that one is FOR SURE a trauma thing so maybe it could just be my PTSD. 

Intrusive thoughts occur with a LOT of different disorders!!!!! It’s just OCD when you have compulsions to cope with them. Even then, it has to be a certain way for it to qualify.

I hope I was able to give you somewhere to start in terms of information. OCD is a very big disorder and is a major reason why I’m unable to function in a workplace environment. I didn’t go into the specifics of every compulsion, but if you have questions, I don’t mind talking about this stuff. It helps me process it to explain it to others and I end up healing a little through oversharing I think.