#mindshatters

[shitty-proendo-blackout-posts]

i was 12 when they sent me that 😃

Ok So. systems can form without trauma. The brain does That.

There has been record of that happening.

nature is beautiful

[safesthaveninexistence]

I'm either energetically led to my purse or my purse is energetically brought to me until we are utterly united because I know I have it and it's somewhere fucking safe

Update: the conjuror version of me energetically retrieved the crystals rollers, my car key, my ID, my money, my credit card and I seen I won as well as excessively retrieved back my power in the spiritual realm ^.^ Geez.. I saw so many mindshattering signs my purse was already energetically here with me and now I have a new credit card but with the same exact number and the old one suddenly closed so now I feel utterly energetically and financially secured. It's honestly crazy how energy communicates to me before I receive it omg....

[zilliondollarpussy]

So my mother is alive. Both physical and in spirit lol

[garlicgoyle]

being trans is so fucked cause youll go through mindshattering horror heretofore unimaginable for years to decades on end and then youll come out the otherside wanting to have sexual relations with a Sony PlayStation®2

[that-weird-skeleton-bastard]

HOLD ON LEMME COOK-

ANXIETY + INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS =

that man only has two modes:

1: screaming nonstop because of everything that could go wrong or is already wrong

or

2: saying the most poetic, most heartbreaking, most mindshattering existential shit ever

there is no inbetween-

[sxulcxtcher]

( handjob, blowjob )

milking the nerdy loser

he doesn’t get what ‘milking’ is, he just assumed it was something with nipples and wanted to test out how it felt for once!! oh how wrong he was…

he’s light headed, dazed with his fogged up glasses as you wring a second orgasm from him. his poor, marked up thighs won’t stop shaking with his cute cock half hard.

“aa-aah… i-i ccan’t c-cum anymuh-moree…” his voice cracks, tears streaming down his flushed face as he speaks. all he can do is whimper as you crack his legs apart even more.

“h-hhmgh… s’no… n-no mooree…” he sobs, his voice hiccuping and quivering as your warm mouth envelops the tip of his overstimulated cock again <3 all he can do is writhe against your hold as your mouth pulls another mindshattering orgasm~

after the sixth? seventh orgasm, he can’t remember, he’s reduced to a nonverbal mess. instead of sucking the life out of him you’ve changed to slowly, tantalizingly so, rubbing out one orgasm at a time from his now spent cock <3

all he does is cry and whine as you lazily pump out a spurt or two of cum out of his red-hot dick. “m-mmng..! u-uunn.. un… h-hhng..”

he passes out a round later :( it’s okay~ he enjoyed it :)

—

glad you enjoyed the previous one >_<!! i’ll happily snatch 🎀 anon then :) hope everyone enjoys this one as well

you are so good at writing these hun! And 🎀 anon it is<3🌹

[sinful-lanterns]

*slams hands on the table* Older women are the best, just consider their s/o being a young, sweet things that don't let them out of bed before they are satisfied. I would chortle if Langley/Garofano/Adela (consider her white streak in her hair as her goingg gray) would just lie on the bed breathlessly while we stare down at them, lovestruck, and dive down to finish them and they just try to push our head away because they're so sensitive.

If i ever get my hands on one of them they will experience the most mindshattering bed experience ever. When I'm done with them they will be shooting blanks.

THESE POOR OLDER WOMEN ANON 😭😭

Their bones are practically aching from just existing, imagine them having to deal with their much younger, much enthusiastic girlfriend too as she rides them like a rollercoaster. Langley, Garofano, and even Adela are left gasping for air, panting as their poor legs are shaking from the overstimulation of your body eagerly swallowing theirs.

They miiiiight pass out mid-way through sex, but honestly they don’t mind it. They just need a quick Power Nap before proceeding the next round of satisfying their younger gf 💕

[tranceykitten]

What's your favorite class of xenodrug from HDG?

Would probably have to be class H, there's just so much you can do with hypnosis even irl, I just know an Affini would be able to do mindshattering things to me, especially with a chemical aid. I'm really really susceptible to hypnosis to start with too, so bonus!

Honourable mention to class As, Bs, and Gs tho. Sense alteration (possible through hypnosis), memory erasure (possible through hypnosis), and feminization (still working on it) are all based too.

[chuusei-matsu]

Any nsfw headcanons for oso (preferably w a masc/androgynous partner)? He's my favie...

Oh my sweet anon, I'm so glad you asked~

NOW TIME FOR SOME: HORNY QUEER OSOMATSU TIME!!!

Osomatsu has always had the mentality of "5 bucks is 5 bucks" to justify any gayness that might happen towards him, however when it came actually accept that fact that he was sexually attracted to masculine people, he was a little more hesitant.

It mostly started with gay magazines, after finding out his favorite sex shop was changed to cater towards same sex relationships, but then he started to get curious and experimented with things like plugs and also kind of allowing himself to check out other masc people.

His intentions with his now current partner were to never get past sex, originally when he met his current partner, they kind of had this unspoken deal of one and done, but the sex was kind of mindshattering to him, and when he laid on their arms being taken care of after, he couldn't help but get a smidge attached to them.

After that, he started to ask them to come over more often, at first he excused it for sex cause again, it was a-maz-ing, but sometimes they wouldn't even make it to bed, just spending time talking to each other... Occasionally even then there would be some fornication, but for the most part if Oso didn't seem into it, partner did not budge on it.

Oso's favorite part of masculine frames? Absolutely the muscles, obviously women can get muscular too and he'd admire it, but something about seeing muscles on a masculine frame just gets his brain going haywire but in a good way

He has tried to top his partner and for the most part, partner is all game for it, but they kind of realized it was a little awkward with both size differences (height and dick size), and after trying it, they fell back into their same patterns again

At some point, Osomatsu had to introduce partner to family, which partner did not mind, but the introduction was pretty awkward because it was after they almost got caught, like mid-orgasm too, it was embarrassing, luckily no one saw nothing, but Osomatsu was pretty sure they heard enough to get the point

After bragging to his brothers of course about being the first to lose their virginity, Oso did have to come out as queer and/or queer adjacent, they took it pretty well, but did try to tease him about being a bottom and saying it didn't count

Open sexual discussion, uncomfortable maybe, but always on the table, just in case something seems worrisome or is going wrong, first priority is never having sex, it's making sure everything is ok

Oso as a bottom can last up to 2 hours before he gives out, but as a top, he's like a little fucking gremlin, passes out for 5 seconds after his first shot load and then tries to go again, he can continue this cycle for about 5 hours, or until he passes out from being drained

There you go anon, sorry if these are a little more story based than you want, but like, every good queer disaster has a story for where they come from!

[safesthaveninexistence]

Elon musk inherently lets me take anything i want from him so fucking effortlessly

[leakism]

Being drunk sucks because you got like a 30 minute window of happiness before the mindshattering depression hits and it feels like trying to get to the church in silent hill

[just-antithings]

Made in Abyss is one of those things that does actually push my comfort zone in interesting ways. Because the 8 year olds do get naked and talk about sex sometimes, and THAT bothers me, but not any of the absolute agony they go through. Useful to chew on for the sake of examining held biases and comfort zones. But, more than that? Might be the prettiest anime I have ever seen, and the cute kids undergo truly mindshattering horror. And there's a huge lady who is easy to crush on.

.

[harryleatherfit]

Upper East Side || A.U ||Frankie Morales

Chapter 12: Closing Night

F!Reader x Frankie Morales

Word Count: 5.7K

Warnings: p in v sex (not wrapped up), clit play, cock warming, riding, love with sex, subspace, shower play?

Authors Note: so i’m 🍃🍃🍃, but this chapter was so much fun to write and i love writing for you all, light of my day❤️❤️ tell me what you thought about the chapter! guys i fucking love tumblr and i love you. writing always makes me happy.

Chapter Playlist

No-One in the world- Locust

Doses and Mimosa- Cherub

Cheari- Magdelena Bay

🪩Main Master List🪩 Series Master List🪩

The last thing you remember was Frankie putting you in bed, with nothing but a smile and a mindshattering orgasm lingering through your body.

He said I love you.

Warm dim side lights were on when you woke up, laying on top of Frankies chest as he traces shapes on your back, playing with your hair. Nothing but freedom consumed you whole. You looked up to him, a sunken smile filling his entire face.

“How long have you been awake?” You shift, nuzzling into him further.

“10 minutes, you’ve been out for some time, pretty girl.” He rasps, “You were awake when I put you in bed but I couldn’t get any words out of you, I was scared you weren’t okay?”

“I promise you,” You smirk, “I was okay. It was like I was in another world. I can't explain it.” You close your eyes, “ I looked it up the other night because fuck… every time you make me cum I genuinely can’t think for seconds and it said it’s like a ‘subspace’.”

“A sub-wha?”

“Sub-space, it’s like I feel so comfortable with you and taken care of with you, Google says it’s the ultimate goal for a submissive.”

“Hmmm for a submissive, you like that?”

“Well I like it enough to go into a full body shock.” He rumbles under you, his skin against yours was beautiful. The lights reflecting off his glow made you want to fuck him all over again.

You look over at his side clock, 3 am.

“Fuck I need to pee, can’t get a UTI.” You move the blanket off of you, goosebumps rapturing your arms from leaving his warmth.

He quickly jumps from the bed, you had a minor limp. Reminiscing from the feeling of his cock stuffing you full.

He holds you up as you walk to his open bathroom.

“You okay darlin, feelin alright?” He laughs.

“Oh yeah yeah, just hobbling along from being fucked to death, I’m all good. How about you?” You mumble.

“Spent the night with the girl of my dreams, I’m doing pretty fucking fine.”

You shake your head as you pee, he gives you your peace.

“C’mere.” He motions his fingers to you when you finish, “Do you wanna take a shower? I know you don’t have anything here, but if you wanna clean the sex off.” He mutters. “I can give you some clothes until we have to leave again.”

You survey his bathroom, shelves of cologne and body products for men, marbled tile and a really fucking big shower, a shower big enough for 10 people. His bathroom smelled like santorini water, heavenly. But his unique smell controlled your brain, you only wanted to be close to him.

“Shower with me? It’s early and I need to stay awake.” You smirk.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.”

He fires up the water inside his shower, pulling you in when the water was hot enough, you both stand under the water spout. Slightly moaning as the water soothes out the kinks of your sore muscles.

“What’d you do when I fell asleep, big man?”

He grabs this glass of shampoo, spilling some out and scruffing your head with it.

“I was just laying there, with you in my arms. Thinking about how this will probably be the happiest moment of my life.”

Everything shifted, demeanor, his body language, he was being so gentle.

“I’ve wanted to tell you for a while baby but the first time we met was actually back at UNCSA, you probably don’t remember but-”

You grab his hands, trying to rack through your brain on when you could’ve seen him last you but you draw at a blank.

“What?When?”

“Ah it was back when we were coming to like “scout” you to accept you in the program, we saw the closing night of Cabaret and we went to your spring recital and I just knew.”

“You were there? Frankie, why didn’t you tell me?”

You interrupt, holding his face, scanning his beauty. His nose, his facial hair, his deep set eyes, his hair. You loved everything about him. His body. He was made to love, his whole life he was made to experience a love so life altering.

You yourself have never felt a love this consuming, was it love? Or was it lust?

Whatever it was, you knew you could never experience it with another human again. You didn’t feel like a girl with Frankie, you felt alive. You felt looked after, and cared. Nothing else mattered when you were with him.

You kiss him harder than you thought an asteroid could hit the earth, a simulation scrolling through your head.

This love crushing your bones couldn’t take the intimacy curating between you both, “Why didn't you tell me you goose?” You almost cry, brushing through his hair with your fingers, “I could’ve known you earlier, we couldn’ve-”

“I don’t know, I mean I’m your teacher and then all the Macbeth stuff and it was just so much, I didn’t want to scare you off and I didn’t know how to act around you, and now things are just different.” Yes they are Frankie, they always will be, “I just wanted to welcome you here but fucking immediatly I couldn’t hold back.” He stands against his shower wall.

“But babygirl, “He grabs your attention, “Your Sally performance, your passion in Maybe This Time, darlin you're pizazz on that stage, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”

“Old man, looking at me in lingerie,” You purr, “Is that why you couldn’t keep your eyes off of me?”

“No, not because of that.” He pulls you closer, “Because you’re confident on stage, the audience can feel your passion and I didn’t see you on the stage, I only saw Sally. You're such a good actress baby and you don’t even know it.”

You simper, that’s all you ever wanted, “I’m glad you can see that.”

“Well, you’ll see it after this weekend I promise, people are raving about you gorgeous. After those interviews you’ll see.

He washes your body, running soap on your heated skin. He smudges over your nipples, wincing at his touch. He dropped lower, rubbing his hand all over your body, soothing the redness of your ass.

You moan, never forgetting his soft sensual touch on your body.

Most of the days you try to work hard, you try to

give acting your all. The amount of empathy that runs through your body, the amount of crying and thinking you’ve had to do. Countless nights of annotating, listening to Broadway music, seeing off Broadway shows at DPAC, water pouring.

“Thank you Frankie.” You fiddle with his hair, you never felt more comfortable with your body in front of another guy, “I try to think those things, but I appreciate it you know, I try to be what people want me to be.” You grimace at the thought of having to do another show tonight, on the day you just want to stay in with Frankie and never leave.

“I know it’s hard dollface, but I want you to know, you probably don’t remember but I went up to you after the show and you hugged me, and I knew that minute. I just knew deep down I would find you again.” He washes his hair, “ I introduced myself as someone else because we couldn’t say we were from New York but you didn't even know me and you still talked to me, you still gave me your time and I could see how tired you are. But that’s how special you are, that’s why everyone loves you, that’s what you do to me-”

You shut him up before the words can be said, you relax under the water together pushing your body against his, “You’re fucking with my heart, no matter what Frankie, baby I will always find you. This was meant to happen, and everythings been so perfect, I haven’t felt this,” You rub your heart, “In a long time. And that's because of you. I have the power to go up on that stage because of you. You were my lucky charm on the closing night of Cabaret and I didn’t know it then, but here it is now.”

He hedonically sits on the seat in his shower, sitting you on his leg. The water was pouring the other direction and he meticulously kissed down your back.

You shudder when he would lift up, to place his lips back down again. He was making love to your body, he was being gentle and calculated.

Your souls were attaching themselves together and you don’t think you could ever let go.

“Last night was perfect, everything we did, everything you did made me believe in God.”

“Trust me I saw God last night mi amor, my perfect Goddess.” He nips at your shoulders and ears, “So strong, so soft, golden.”

As you press into his stomach you really feel him, fuck.

“Shit, you didn’t come.” You squeak. You could feel a rock against your back, reacting to your body so easily.

“It’s okay, I didn’t need to. All I needed was to make you feel good.” He shivers, “And if we went any longer… I would’ve came inside-”

“I can go on birth control you know, get an IUD, drink turmeric water, something. Bless we live in the state of New York.”

“Whatever you’re comfortable with honey.”

“It's 3am, we’ve got some hours to kill.” You grin.

The burnt fire in your stomach ruptures again, and this time you’re in control.

“What do you want from me right now Mr. Morales?” You shimmy your ass against the base of his cock, his length nooking into your inner thigh, “C’mon playboy, I want more, more for tonight. I can take it.”

He groans, you push him against the shower wall, you look down and see precum leaking out of him like a college boy. You fish around to fit his cock inside your entrance, exasperated from the feeling of him stretching you wide. You hear him whimper slightly in your ear, the warmth of the steam filing your lungs.

The unsaid craft of love mixing with you guys fucking each other made you want more for the world. If you could feel this for the rest of your life, if you could make all 8 billion people on earth understand how this love was the realist thing you have felt, humane but not blind. You needed more of him.

You knew he needed him to cum, he needed to chase his release.

His hands reached for your hips, the water easing the action of you bouncing on his cock. He couldn’t contain his guttural sounds. You couldn’t handle his cock slipping in and out of your pussy, it felt too good. The way he curved inside you to kiss your spongey spot made you twitch.

“I ain’t gonna last darlin, m’sorry.” The slapping of your skin overpowers the air, the motion in your body to think.

“Come inside, I want it Frankie. Fill me up, fill my fucking pussy up.” You groan, “I’m just a fucking hole for you, fuckin cum hole for your dick.”

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna baby, don’t stop- don’t fucking stop.”

At the last minute, you reach down to touch his balls, to give him one last kick before he untangles inside you, you want him to see the stars.

He gasps, and his body spasms, he falls back and you go with him. He unloads into you, never feeling warmer in your life. You shimmy your hips with his dick still inside you, he heaves as his cum kisses your cervix.

You feel him slipping out of you, you can see the water washing it away, but he felt so good inside you.

“Jesus baby, so fucking tight you have me cumming light a god damn teenager.” He amused.

You slank against him, breathing for your life. He kisses your ear, pulling your hair from your face, clasping your lips together. His hands were holding your boobs, roaming your torso. He stays inside you and he goes soft.

“I could feel you swelling inside me, I could feel the second you popped, it was like your orgasm interconnected with me. Fucking made for eachother.” You whisper.

He gains back strength enough to move, he grabs the cord of the showerhead, dropping it to his hand.

“What are you doing?”

“You’ve never done this?” He questions.

“Do what with a shower head?”

“You’ll see.” He purrs, kissing your neck.

He turns the head of the shower spout to the smallest, but most powerful setting, and he immediately points it at your clit.

“FUCK,” You jerk, “My fucking- god Frankie- it’s so powerful- fuck. I can’t-”

“You think I’m gonna cum and you’re not pretty girl?” He intertwined his legs around you, pinning you to his body. The sensation on your clit made your cunt walls jolt, that affected his dick to harden again inside.

He started to push into you, clamping around him too fast, your orgasm was coming quick and there was nothing to do to stop it.

“Cmon dirty girl, I know it feels so good. I know you’re leakin and it ain’t just water. I need you to cum on my cock again, I know you can do it.” He brings the spout closer to your pussy, a centimeter from your pulsating nub. He fucks his spent cum back into you.

He moves his hips faster than a sonic boom, disrupting the symbiotic relationship you had seconds ago and you feel like you’re about to explode, incomprehensible how the pressure on your clit with his heavy dick inside you is about to make you fall off the face of the earth.

“Ahh- ngh- Frankie- I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna-” You scream.

He interlocks on you harder, keeping you in place and with his free hand he holds your stomach down. Locking you down. He growls in your ear, fucking you in place. You can’t do anything put let your pussy take it and unleash your voice.

“I can feel the outline of my cock in you, so deep in your stomach, see that?”

You dangle your head, seeing a bulge past your mound inside you, his cock owning you. And not a second later his pumps slow subconsciously and he sets down the shower head. You can feel him spurt into you again. Longing out both of your orgasms.

“Fuck Frankie, fuck I can feel it, I can feel both of us.” You mumble, kissing him, salivating for his mouth. The water was facing the other way of the shower, so you watch both of your liquids mix to the shower floor.

You’re so full of his cum, you can’t even panic, you would have if it was anyone else, but Frankie’s cum was a gift made from the universe. All you wanted was more. Figuring out how to prevent anything from biologically happening inside your body was another day's problem.

“Gotta clean you off baby, can’t have me leakin out of you all day.” He shifts, scrambling to get the shower head off the floor, changing the setting so it wouldn’t attack you again.

“No I could be, but I don’t think it would be too sanitary for my costume.”

“Fuckin nasty girl.” He beams, he rubs the inside of your thigh, not daring to get closer to your entrance, cleaning you out and using the heat to uncrease any knots in your body.

You still couldn’t believe it all this time, he saw you first. He saw you as Sally, he saw you in one of the worst stages of your life, and he still saw you for who you were. Deep down, you knew there was never going to be anyone like him again for the rest of your life.

“I think it was the universe makin us together Frankie.” You mumble in a sex haze.

Cherish him now, before anything threatening happens.

He turns off the shower, slipping out to grab towels for you both. He spikes through his hair, lifting his towel. You eye him up and down, your lower half not able to handle seeing him like this. You’ve had the best orgasms of your life in the past 6 hours and you're still wet for more?

“Don’t worry baby, we’ll have time for more tonight.” He smirks. You go to lay in his bed, grabbing the closest shirt of his you see.

“Actually remember that afterparty for the show? I was gonna go to that, see if you wanted to go?” He joins you in bed.

“I wouldn’t mind going, I think all my guys were gonna go to that but…” He lingers his fingers around your boobs, “We couldn’t really be near each other or touch each other.”

“But that would be fun, edge each other all night, just to be back in bed, fucking each other like crazy. Isn’t that right Francisco?” You hum, running your fingers on his belly.

He huffs, your fingers searching dangerous territory.

“You don’t know what you’re fucking starting.” He tuts.

“Of course I do.”

You lay with him longer, watching the time pass. He scrolls through his TV, he still has cable. You go in and out of sleep, watching the sun rise through his balcony.

You saunter downstairs to get your bag eventually, grabbing your bag to clean yourself for the day. Thank the fucking lord you packed like a hound for show days. Lotion, 2 days of clothes, toothbrush, deodorant, hair oil, perfume.

He watches you slip into his bathroom, winking at him as you close the door.

20 minutes to go fucking delusional. You check your phone.

New Message:

11:34 Laylah: May have accidentally gone to Bryce’s place

11:40 Laylah: OOOOOHHH SHIT YOU”RE GETTING DICKED DOWN TELL

6:55 Laylah: Just woke up, let me know if you’re alive

Jesus christ, what a story to tell.

You: I’m alive and breathing

7:38 Laylah: WHATTTT HAPPENED

You: Well we did things, and more things. And then the universe collapsed.

7:40 Laylah: OH FUCK ME TOO. Talk when we get to the theater?

You: Oh hell fucking yeah.

As you put your phone down, Frankie knocks on the door, he comes in, “Hey before we go to the theater, lets stop at a bodega. Get some coffee and stock up on some pills?”

Pills?

Oh fuck.

“Shit, I completely forgot,” You giggle, “That sounds perfect.”

He picks you up and twirls you in the air, “Be ready in 30, pretty girl.”

------

Before you left, he gave you a tour of his house in the daylight, took you in the backyard, showed you his garage with 2 other cars. His whole upstairs. His house was beyond elegant, something you’d only see in movies and this was all for him. You feel his personality in every room, you could see his life in everything he has. He had lives before you, but who were you before him?

Instead of taking his million dollar car, he took his low audi. Not as recognizable but still him.

He went to the nearest corner store, leaving you in the car, giving you his hoodie. Whatever was to happen between you two, you could live your life like this until you die.

“Ok 2 coffees with stevia and oatmilk, and a shitload of Plan-B!” He cheers. He came back with a bag full of Plan-B. “What?”

You shake your head, jesus christ. Your uterus couldn’t take him.

He pulls around back behind the theater discreetly, dropping you off so no one would see you walking in together. He kissed you goodbye, tonight's the last show.

Before you realize it, Laylah is booming at your hair, perfecting your makeup for your cast interview with The New Yorker. When you saw each other you both squealed but were surrounded by other makeup interns. The long awaited conversation would be saved for a private session.

At 2:30, Ms. Roylance pulled the cast into a room with a line of interviewers from The New Yorker. She had already pre-prepped you all with answers, figuring this would probably be the longest part of the day. Frankie, both of Mr.Millers, Mr. Garcia, Ms. Cheot, Mr Davis, and Ms. Roylance sat in the back of the room observing how you all would respond.

The interview was being filmed, so you sat up straight and answered when you were talked to. The questions were more directly to Mattias, you didn’t mind. All you had to do was look at Frankie and look pretty. You weren’t sure how stuff like this would ever work out, you knew some interviewers could have their sleeves so tight that they could ask any asshole questions.

So finally to both our leads, how did you balance school work and working on a college Macbeth production for Broadway?

“You go first.” Mattias directs you.

“Well, I just had recently moved to this school and as a senior my classes are industry classes. So as long as I show up, give 100%, and learn my lines on the side. Work my job, get 7 hours of sleep, wake up and run. Try to subside that this is a Broadway production and you’re balanced.” You grin.

“For me, I do my classes, shots of vodka every Friday, and learn my lines. Not as well as this one.” Mattias giggles.

Mattias definitely made you feel more comfortable in this interview, he tried to give more questions to you, but you didn’t take it personally.

You wanted this interview to end nonetheless, smiling at empty jokes- you really didn’t think your first interview would go like this.

After an hour and a half, you and Mattias had to be prepped to go into another room for Vogue. The other actors were being touched up by Laylah. Ms. Roylance said this would be more intimate, prepare your answers to be more emotional and if you don’t want to answer you laugh it off.

5 o’clock sharp and just one reporter walks in greeting all the directors and sitting down in front of you and Mattias.

“Hi! My names Jules and I’ll be interviewing you guys today.¨ She shakes your hands, smiling and jaunty within her step, ¨Umm I just want to start off, if you don’t want to answer anything that I ask, give me a thumbs down and we can just pass it. No harm, no foul.” She smiles.

You’re not being recorded, but audiotaped. You liked this better, you could slouch in your seat and not check every 5 minutes if your hair looked correct. You all had afternoon coffee on your side, and Frankie was in the room, you were safe.

I wanted to start off first, how do you both relate to your characters?

¨I feel like Macbeth is a warrior hero, he is just trying to make everyone happy. He’s jumpy but wants to make his wife happy. He aspires to be king and I feel like my entire life I’ve been trying to gain control of my own life and I feel like that’s what Macbeth is trying to do in his story.” He sips his coffee.

“I feel like Lady Macbeth has been strong her entire life, she would do anything to make her husband happy, and I mean in the end she takes her own life because of the things she has done so personally I relate to her because my whole life I do things for people and sometimes I may go against myself to make someone else happy and then I feel dead inside. I feel this stomach churning sickness that I will never get to go back to my regular person.

Wow, your responses. I feel grateful to be here with you both and your responses are so heartfelt already. Where do you both see life after college?

“Honestly I thought I wanted to go to Law school after this, but possibly some more auditions for Broadway. I did apply to get into the graduate program at Julliard so I am looking forward to that this year. Possibly get an internship somewhere.” Mattias responds.

You haven’t this far about what you’d do after college, your number one fear of having to move back with your mom or go homeless.

“Honestly after this year? I mean I have a service job uh… audition for some TV roles. I’m not sure, I love reading scripts and annotating them. Just working in the industry, I love acting so whatever comes my way I’ll take it.”

Do you plan on staying here? Since you moved from North Carolina?

“Yeah I do.” You look at Frankie across the room- he’s essentially a reason why you would stay in this city. “North Carolina was never home, so I feel like if I go back, there would be no place for me to go home to.”

That’s funny, I’m from there so I understand what you mean, it’s pretty boring.

You laugh with Jules, empathy being an understood language.

What are your prize possessions?

“Can she finish the rest of the interview, I’m sorry I’ve talked all day and she has better responses than me. And pedialyte!” Mattias pokes you.

“Ok, my most prized possession is my copy of A Little Life by Hanya Yanigihara. I think that is the best book I have ever read, now I’m not saying go read it because there's so much trauma and it’s extremely sad, but it’s truly one of the most captivating and well written books I’ve read in my lifetime. I’ve annotated it to the brim and it’s worth everything to me.”

I’ve read it! After I finished I was sobbing like a baby, and I had to go to Lispenard street and just sit there in silence, it took months for me to not think about Jude!

“Trust me, me too, that book will go to the grave with me.” You wink. “I’ll have to go visit Lispenard street sometime soon!”

Ms. Roylance gives the que that it’s time to wrap up, show would be starting in 2 hours and you had to do senior greenroom.

Okay, my last question for the night, what are your thoughts on the industry, Hollywood, Broadway, all of it?

You couldn’t obviously say how you really felt, but you could weave around it.

“Hmm that's a big question,” You nod your head, “I don’t think it’s a cruel industry, I mean it can be, don't get me wrong. But when I was younger I was drawn to a place of freedom of expression, I was drawn to a place that would allow me to feel without any punishment. I wasn’t allowed to feel anything when I was younger. I felt silenced my whole childhood, and this world pushes me. I’m motivated to act.”

You simmer for a second, “But the kicker is, the space that makes me feel safe, has 180’d sometimes into the box that makes me feel like a child again. It’s trying to find that fine line between expressing yourself or getting nowhere. I want my work to make people feel, I want them to notice how I felt when I was younger. I’m healing, I feel like anyone who acts is still healing, no matter what it can be. It’s like this box that you wanted to get around going into the industry puts you in it again, because no matter how raw you get, how you assume a character in front of that camera or audience, you will still be judged by how you move.” You take a breath.

“I don’t know, humanity will always be humanity, um I feel like being a true actor in this industry will eventually let me feel free so I’m lucky in a sense. I’m an emotional person so I’m excited to see where my life takes me. I think regardless of what your life is like, the artist and creative soul will always find a way to create. The world will find a way to bring resistance, but it’s what your mindset is like that will eventually push through and prove other people wrong. Because the industry won’t be pretty to your unapologetic self. It’s all the human experience.

Jules pauses the recording on her phone, “Who are you and where have you been?” She beams. She starts clapping her hands, everyone in the tiny room abruptly applauding for you. You shy away, looking at Frankie through your hair and Mattias shakes your shoulders.

You didn’t mean for this to happen, but this is how you really felt about the industry.

“Tucked away in North Carolina for 22 years. Before then? Maybe a cat walking the cornfields in Kansas.” You giggle.

“It was the utmost pleasure to meet you all today, break a leg with your last show.” Jules gathers her things and leaves the room, leaving you alone with Mattias and your directors.

They called in the rest of the cast, Frankie went searching around for the rest of the tech crew, preparing for the tradition before the last show.

As everyone entered, you saw Laylah make her way to you, you felt tears beam in your eyes. Never failing to get emotional for anything like this. You hadn’t really let anyone see you cry before, Frankie hasn’t seen you cry yet, except for Laylah.

“So as you all know, this is what we call the Senior greenroom. Where all the graduating seniors this year give advice to anyone under, what they have learned and we know it’s early in the year for some of you but say anything on your mind before the last show.” Ms. Roylance explains.

“Mattias you start.”

You lean against a wall for this, looking at your feet, trying to not to show any emotion. If you gave in you know you’d cry all your makeup off. You listen to Mattias speak about his years here, about the things he would have done differently;y and you watch the tears drip down his face. A few more seniors talk, some you haven’t gotten a chance to really work with, but hopefully in the coming months you will.

The spotlight lands on Laylah, you look up and see the gloss all over their eyes, they walk over and put your hands in theirs.

“Advice I would give to people younger… hmm…” They run their thumb through yours, “When you need help, accept it. Open your heart more and don’t regret it.” They look up to you, “And sometimes your family doesn’t have to be blood. I have spent years trying to make up for past time in my life but the people that I know have made lifelong friendships will always be there for me.” They pause, “This space already has given me the opportunity to only be myself and create art, that's all I ask for. And you have made my girl, my best friend, the happiest person on earth.” They finish.

They finish and they hug you, tighter than you could think. You appreciate Laylah more than you could imagine, when you were a little girl you never thought you would be loved by another human being this much, but Laylah proved you wrong. They taught you your self-worth, they taught you how to function in society. You couldn’t explain your level of friendship, it just was.

They let go, after tears slip down your face, you clear your eyes and prepare what you are gonna say. Only a couple months ago were you two introducing ourselves to a crowd of people and here you are.

“Where do I even begin?” You blow the snot in your nose. “Honestly when I came here I was scared, but I didn’t let myself be held back by that underlying fear. And this one right here always pushed me, no matter what.” You squeeze Laylah, “Always trust your teachers, because they know what’s best for you. Always go the extra mile even when you’re not even asked because that will get you much further.” You ponder,

“But this space, the performing arts has always let me feel. I have always been myself and I have always expressed my emotions in a beautiful way in the performing arts and I would never take it back for a second.” You choke on your words, “I feel so lucky to get to be here in the city, and I am so happy to have worked with a group like this that has accepted me and made me feel safe fuck.” You giggle, covering your mouth for cursing, it lightens the room, “But all I’ll say is let the world consume, fill your life with passion and projects, care about things, be a nerd, be a baseline for someone, be love and safety.”

By the time the whole room is in tears and you start hugging, hugging because the sadness for the purity of everyone's happiness is a raw human emotion.

Ms. Roylance is clearing her eyes, and you can see Frankie rubbing circles in his heart, signing to you.

“I wanted to say how I am so lucky to have worked with some of the best I’ve seen in years, and I will get to say we made history with our Broadway shows, and the talent that I have gotten to teach and direct has shocked me. Go make me proud out there! Places in 10! Everyone break a leg!” Ms Roylance calls out.

The crew scurries to get to the booth and you go behind the stage watching the chaos unravel itself.

You hear a door open and a tug at your shoulder, you immediately knew it was Frankie. You were panicked but the confirmation of it being Frankie made you feel instant relief.

“What are you doing Mr. Morales? Are we here for old times sake?” You grin.

“I mean I wish, but I want this to be our ritual before you perform. Just us together, somewhere hopefully alone.” And he hugs you, tightly.

Instantly you feel a world of emotions collapsing on you, almost the joy you felt as a kid during christmas. Magic.

“Your heart, pretty girl, so so beautiful.” He rubs your temples, “You’ve got a way with words, my perfect star.” You kiss him, feeling the world crash in, “Now give them all that you got.”

———

taglist: @pastelnap

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tell me what you guys think!!

[shawshankshadow]

my theory is surge will feel hope and joy and whimsy and seriously consider being nicer to kit only to find out sonic was phantom and was strategically letting her think she was winning (or something) and induce a mindshattering meltdown . i have zero evidence of this im just so low on sleep and this idea walked by my window

[fucking-internet-idiot]

To all the tumblr bitches that are the mentally ill, horny, hiperfixative on a super specific topic only they like, degenerate, corny but free, Fandom loving, teenage, adult, ignorant,homosexual, 2 brain cell having, poetry-eque mindshattering fan fiction,reality shifting, art persona, one-shotters, middle age man obsessive(real AND fictional), scenario creating 24/7, and everyone I didn't mention out there, I want yall to know I feel so at home.

[snow-system-wol]

G'raha accidentally went down a bit of a side journey doing research and unearths some info that might be of interest to S'ria. (cw: clinical reference to CSA)

Ao3

It was not completely unheard of for S'ria to not see G'raha for an entire turn of the sun. 

Not unheard of, but still quite rare these days. G'raha no longer stuck so close by his side, with both of them doing their own tasks apart for much of the day, but S'ria typically saw him by some point in the evening. G'raha almost never slept in his own room anymore, so at the very least, S'ria saw him by the time he was turning in for the night.

It was not so the previous night, S'ria falling asleep alone – disappointed, but not concerned.

Come morning, he did ask around if anyone knew of G'raha's whereabouts. The first few answers, that he was excused from work today and was not working yesterday either, had S'ria worried, but the additional answers about him having been sighted in the Noumenon put his heart back at ease.

Knowing G'raha, he fell asleep while researching some side project. S'ria would have liked to check on him, but G'raha was likely in a level deeper than a non-Archon, non-citizen could freely wander into.

(Oh, if S'ria threw his status around and implied it was important, then perhaps, but that was not warranted here. If G'raha did not turn up by the ‘morrow, S'ria would simply send Krile in after him.)

G'raha did return that evening, though, a heavy backpack weighing him down. He seemed nervous, and S'ria was a touch concerned about that bit, but it wasn't much to consider. He remained a bit ill-at-ease for all of dinner, though, and it was a little awkward.

It wasn't until after dinner that G'raha actually addressed what was clearly on his mind. He dragged his backpack over and sat down on the floor, half on his futon and half in the pillow nest, and patted the spot next to him. S'ria gently settled down, waiting.

“Forgive me for my absence – and forgive me for this indiscretion. I did not perform research solely to be invasive, but I will confess that I began chasing more information when the lead presented itself.”

S'ria's tail swished behind him. “Raha, the evasiveness is making me a bit anxious.”

“Ah! Forgive me, ‘twas not my intent. Unfortunately I have just made myself nervous as well. Allow me to start from the beginning.” G'raha pulled out a tome from his bag and flipped it open to a marked spot. “I was reading a historical account, back from the Sixth Umbral Era, and one of the relevant parties was described in a way that was not unlike you and yours. You'd said you'd never met anyone else, so I began to … dig.”

S'ria shifted closer, peering at the page in excitement. “What did you find? Oh – that's not…”

“Not a modern script, no, but I can read it out for you later if you should like to hear the exact words. And worry not, my search was not fruitless, even if ‘twas a bit…circuitous.

"First, I began looking for books on identity, psychological care, trauma, pertaining to that era… As I am certain you can imagine, this was easier said than done. The priority given to such social topics varied greatly by location, and many did not put an emphasis on it. I did eventually find a medical compendium that appeared to be describing diagnosis of the same phenomenon.”

S'ria leaned forward, intensely focused. “So, it is a thing other people experience? Does it have a name?”

To S'ria's confusion, G'raha's immediate reaction was to look a bit uncomfortable.

“It does, but, err… I do not know if it is meant to be translated so literally, but –”. G'raha visibly winced. “The medical compendium rather indelicately used ‘mindshatter’ – a-a term that has long since been declared unusable, I promise!” 

S'ria was not particularly sure if that was offensive or just odd. Certainly, it was not a polite way to be called, but it hardly seemed a condition a psychologically well person would have, so was it warranted? Ah, but, if others had this too, then perhaps thinking of it so judgmentally was unkind.

It probably said much about S'ria that the first time he truly considered whether he thought of his mental health too harshly was upon realizing it was rude to people other than him.

“You were able to find newer sources?”

G'raha nodded. “Yes, I used the old name and tracked it through records until the name began to change, and then checked modern medical tomes for those.”

S'ria raised his eyebrows. “And the new name is less…?”

“Ah, well, names, really. Each group of scholars took it upon themselves to give it a new name – some in different cultures, some in the same institute and arguing with their peers. ‘Separation of the self’, ‘traumatic deintegration’, ‘divided soul’, multiple identity phenomenon’ – to name a few.”

“So there really isn't an agreed upon name?”

G'raha gave him a sympathetic smile. “Unfortunately, no. You could pick one, if you'd like.”

The intensity of his focus broken, S'ria laid back onto the pillows. “That seems overwhelming right now, no thanks. What else did you learn, though? About what it is?”

S'ria could see G'raha's ears perk up in the corner of his vision, him scrambling in his bag for presumably more borrowed books.

“Ah yes, here we are!” G'raha cleared his throat, dropping the excitement from his tone. “...Are you certain you would actually like to hear about this? Some of the information may be uncomfortable for you.”

S'ria ears flicked, deep in thought for a few moments. He could feel G'raha's eyes on him.

“I think I'd like to know, at least.”

“Very well. Er, here are the details that seem to be consistent between different experts.” G'raha's cadence changed, suggesting that he was directly reading bits of the text. “An individual with this condition will exhibit multiple selves, of count ranging from one additional self to many. Said other selves may have different personalities and gender, and may not share memories or consciousness with the individual's primary self.”

It was uncanny, to hear this described so…casually? So concretely? S'ria did not want to be special or anything, but he'd honestly assumed there was something uniquely wrong with him. 

“That all sounds…very familiar, yes.” S'ria tried to unclench his jaw. “Does it say why?”

G'raha was quiet in response for a little too long, and S'ria sat up to look at him. He was fiddling with the edge of a page, looking briefly at a loss for words.

“Raha?”

G'raha briefly shook his head. “Forgive me, I just do not wish to be indelicate with how I put this. The condition is a protective mechanism, allowing the formation of specialized roles and quarantining of memories. It forms in response to prolonged trauma at single-digit ages, particularly, er –”. G'raha's voice dropped far quieter. “Particularly when experiencing repeated sexual abuse.”

S'ria understood the hesitation in saying that out loud – he could not suppress his shudder, the sudden trembling in his hands, a slight buzzing in his head. It was odd. He'd never had it referred to in such a clear clinical way before, and it was… difficult to describe how that felt. Equal parts validating and horrifying, perhaps.

“I… I see.”

“I apologize, are you quite alright?”

S'ria took a deep breath, trying to still his hands. “I am – I am not having a flashback, that is, I just – it is a bit cathartic to have it all laid out so plainly, but a bit overwhelming too. I don't want to sound ungrateful, I'm very glad to know this isn't just me.”

S'ria gently eased himself back into lying down. “Thank you for doing this research. I might ask you for more information some day, but right now I need… some time to think about this.”

G'raha slowly laid down next to S'ria and took his hand. “Of course. Let me know if you need anything.”

S'ria's mind wandered to the obvious weight of G'raha's backpack when he'd entered, wondering what else could be found within those pages. No, no, he didn't need any more in his head before he'd processed what was already there.

Still, it was nice to know – somehow intense and anticlimactic all at once – that the way he experienced the world was not a wholly unique one.