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[yandecifi]

In a Way That Matters

bakugo/reader

~1000ish words

cw: derealization + depersonalization

idk made this one shot a bit ago bc felt dpdr wasn’t rlly anywhere and I very much use fanfic, reading, and writing to vent/cope/whatever so idk maybe some other ppl will relate and feel less bad?? might delete this later lol bc idk how tumblr works¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Shakespeare once said: “To be, or not to be, that is the question.”

That is, in fact, the question. That has been the question since it happened. Are you, or are you not? Are you awake, or are you not? Are you alive, or are you not? Are you in a coma, in a hospital, unable to wake up, dying, dreaming, sleeping, something, or are you not?

You have been on pause since it happened. Stuck. Time, life, the you that is not you has progressed without… you. What is you? Who is you? When is you? You are living through memories while at the same time realizing that you have no memories at all. You are alive but you are dead. You are here but you are not.

Bakugo shifts in his seat and asks if you’re there. You pull yourself to the present, whatever that is, and say yeah, sorry, bit spacy today, kinda tired, nice day, isn’t it?

He stares at you. He stares at you with the same look people give when they want to ask you about it, but aren’t sure where to start because what?

Is it happening again?

Is what happening again?

The thing, he responds, crossing his arms. In truth, you knew what he meant. You just wanted to hear somebody else say it for once.

Your eyes and hands find their way to your drink. You fiddle with the straw as you find your answer.

It’s always happening, is what you come up with.

Bakugo doesn’t respond directly. He never does, not really, the way his thoughts connect to his words is about as smooth and straight as his hair. This time, his response is a grunt just loud enough to let you know you’ve been heard. His arms are still crossed as he stares at the hand twisting your straw. You wish he would be as open as you force yourself to be.

Always, he states, though you guess he meant it as a question.

Yeah.

Y’know why?

Nah.

The silence after is one you’re familiar with. He’s probably thinking, I don’t get it, what do you mean it’s all the time, are you crazy, what even is it -

What’s it like?

You squeeze the neck of the straw between your fingers. Both of you are still focused on it, on the plastic tube you’ve been crushing and bending and rolling about, like a silent agreement to not make eye contact. Maybe it’s a way to make him feel less like he’s asking personal questions. Maybe it’s a way for you to feel less naked.

Sorta thing you don’t get unless you’ve experienced it, you say, but that doesn’t feel quite right so you tack on some stuff about dreams and weed and stuff, you know?

The way his eyes squint at the cup shows he doesn’t. You hurry to fix your description.

Like, okay, you say, pausing to flex your hands, watching the tendons writhe beneath your skin. It’s like nothing’s real. Like, imagine someone’s strapped VR goggles to your head and you’re trying to make your way through the place you’re seeing, but it doesn’t exist, so, like, you’re blind but you can see at the same time. Everything’s weird - there’s this sort of disconnect. There’s this gap between you and what you’re feeling. Y’can’t think straight, either, everything’s always foggy and, oh, that’s right, your memory’s shit too. Sometimes I think I’m getting dementia. Or that I’m schizophrenic. But I’m not, I’m not crazy or anything, so don’t worry. Not that you are, or anything. I’m just - I’m not crazy. I’m not. Okay?

Bakugo nods slowly, says yeah, but they always do that. They just nod along or agree with some monosyllable, they don’t - no, they can’t say it, they can’t say: no, you’re not crazy, you don’t sound crazy. Because you do, don’t you? To someone who doesn’t understand.

You’ve stopped fiddling with the straw, instead preferring to work a massage into the palm of your hand. Bakugo has sunk lower into his seat. His arms are still crossed as he stares at the crinkly tube.

He thinks you’re crazy. He does, doesn’t he? He doesn’t believe you. He doesn’t have to say it - you can see it. You can see it in the way he won’t meet your eyes. You can see it in the crease of his brows, how they’re pinched together like they are when he’s taking an exam, trying to find the answer to some impossible question, you can see it in the way his adam’s apple bobs up and down, swallowing like he’s nervous, he’s nervous, he’s nervous, too. People always get nervous when you talk about it. They’re like, I had no idea, I didn’t know this about you, what else is she hiding, and then they treat you like a stranger because they feel like you’re one, you’re strange, you’re strange to them. You’ve become strange. He thinks you’re strange.

Bakugo, you say, though it comes out more of a mumble. He finally looks you in the eye again. He’s finally looking at you. God, he’s finally looking at you. Look at me, look at me, show I’m real. I’m real, right? He’s looking, right? Your head swims like TV static. Can static swim? Can heads?

Bakugo asks you what you were going to say. You shake your head. You blink. You blink again. Hey, he says, what were you going to say, but you don’t hear his voice, you can’t hear it, your brain can but you can’t.

Your vision’s like one of those old film reels - clack, you’re looking at his face that isn’t really a face anymore, clack, you’re looking at your hands, you can’t see the writhing anymore, clack, you look up, Bakugo’s gone.

Where is he, where is he, there’s a guy that looks like him next to you. He’s leaning down, about to sit in the cafe booth next to you, speaking words you understand yet can’t seem to hear.

It’s not Bakugo, though. He looks the same, but something inside screams he’s alien, he’s not him. But, that’s just how it is when it’s bad, isn’t it. People become objects, objects become people, and you become nothing.

Yeah, you’re fine.

Yeah, everything’s okay.

No, there’s nothing he can do.

No, you don’t need to go home.

You’re responding to questions you don’t even know are being asked. He’s holding your hand. You don’t know when his fingers first clenched around your hand, how long it’s been clenched around your fingers.

It’s bad, isn’t it, Bakugo.

It is. What is it?

You already said. He tried, he tried, didn’t he? Why keep asking? Why?

He wants you to know, he doesn’t want you to be alone.

You are alone, doesn’t he get it, you don’t want to be either, but he keeps asking and it’s so hard, Bakugo, it’s so hard. Stop asking. You can tell him what it’s like, hours, you can tell him what it’s like for hours but he will never know, he will never know what it is, he will never understand, it doesn’t matter how much you want him to, it doesn’t matter what he thinks, none of it matters.

You will never be able to explain this in a way that matters.

You tell him, that strange, invisible cushion wrapped around your head, that invisible cotton stuffed to the brim of your ears, that hand wrapped around yours.

[yandecifi]

Hellll yesss maybe I’ll actually get some fics done with this😩🙏

30 DAYS NOVEL WRITING CHALLENGE

hey! today i bring you guys a kinda hard challenge. so, how does it work? idk

basically, all you have to do is to follow the grid (each square corresponds to a day), and by the end of it you have written about 11k words of your new novel. sounds fun, right? oh, exhausting, too...

the main goal is to speed up a little and help you get started on your new book (like when you have an idea and reallyyy want to start developing it but have zero motivation).

if you want to share daily (or once in a while) updates about how this challenge is working for you, feel free to use #30soulscollide or tag me in your post! i'd love to hear some feedback from you guys about this and please let me know if you'd like something like this in the future! <3

the challenge (image):

maybe you want a list? here you go:

write a summary of your novel / idea

draft the main character(s)

write a paragraph about each relationship

draft the side characters

brainstorm dramatic events and plot twists

define the narrator & tense

draft the world / environment

create a playlist (now we're done with the plot)

write a summary of act 1

write a summary of act 2

revise your characters & settings

write a summary of act 3

list all the events in your story (in order)

write a paragraph for each chapter (act 1)

write a paragraph for each chapter (act 2)

write a paragraph for each chapter (act 3)

write 800 words

write 900 words

write 700 words

write 1k words

write 800 words

write 500 words

write 1k words

write 700 words

write 900 words

write 1k words

write 600 words

write 800 words

write 1k words

write 900 words

i really hope you like this challenge and that you find it useful. also, i am working on a new notion template (i might post it by the end of this week or next week!) stay tuned <3

[yandecifi]

I’m gonna be honest I have no idea how to use tumblr but to hell w it lack of knowledge will never keep me from them fanfics and imagines