#(except for maybe the therapist i used to go to but who doesn't seem to exist anymore)

[tardis--dreams]

Officially resorted to drinking to overcome the anxiety. It had the opposite effect and now I'm crying even harder.

But i opened the email.

[rainbowsuitcase]

What If... SHIELD found the Winter Soldier first

What If SHIELD wasn't Hydra And by first I mean, what if SHIELD found Bucky before they found Steve. Maybe he broke through the brainwashing for three seconds on a mission and that gave a SHIELD agent the edge they needed to take him down, I don't know. Point is, they get him.

But who they thought was a coldblooded killer turns out to be an empty shell of a man. They transfer him from a cell into a room and it feels a little like giving enclosure enrichment to a sloth - he doesn't really use it.

Of course, they identify him as James Barnes, the best friend of Captain America, but the only difference it makes is that they now know who he's talking about when he screams Steve's name in his sleep. He seems unable to recall the dreams or the man when he wakes up.

He fills the journals they give him with notes they can't really make sense of. Except for the many pages filled with descriptions of a train and chaotic drawings. After all, everyone knows how James Barnes died.

By the time Steve is found, there's probably some secret plan in works to make James back into a ruthless killing machine, for the good side this time.

Except Steve Rogers wakes up.

There are no plans to tell him, but when he's given the files on his dead friends, Natasha secretly swaps the James Barnes file with the one Steve doesn't actually have clearance for.

The one that's a few pages thicker, the one with photos in color and the therapist notes. The one that, instead of Status: Classified, says Status: Alive.

As Natasha predicted, and wanted, hell breaks loose. She has the honor of being right there when Steve Rogers marches into Fury's office and demans an explanation with all his Captain America determination.

"You're not supposed to have that file," is the first thing Fury tells him and it's certainly one of the worst things he could have said.

Steve huffs. "I thought I saw him die," he says slowly. "And you weren't going to tell me?"

"We had no immediate plans to, no." Where's Steve's calm is full of barely held back anger, Fury doesn't seem the least bit thrown off.

Steve's jaw clenches and Natasha braces herself for the moment he explodes. "Where is he?"

"You don't have the clearence for that-"

"I don't give a fuck about your clearence!" There it is. "Where is he?"

"He isn't-"

"I can take you to him, if you want to." Natasha leans forward, to come into the Captain's line of vision, with a friendly smile.

Fury's expression is anything but. "Romanoff," he tries to warn her, but she shrugs.

"What? You really want to try and stop him?"

Rogers looks ready to tear this place apart and Natasha isn't stupid enough to stand in his way - especially not when this is exactly what she wanted.

Fury glances between the two of them and realizes he's been outplayed. He sighs. "We will talk about this later."

"You will not," Steve steps in firmly. It's sweet, Natasha decides when the Captain turns to her and tries to look less pissed off. "Miss Romanoff, shall we?"

They walk out of Fury's office in silence, but as they head towards the elevator, Natasha can see Steve searching for something to say. Not in the mood for small talk, she decides to speak up fist.

"I think you should know, Captain, that your friend isn't exactly doing well."

Steve's eyes widen. "Is he-"

Natasha shakes her head. "No one here has hurt him." She gives him a moment to feel the relief of it, pressing the button to one of the lower floors. "But, before SHIELD found him...."

"I know. I read his file."

Of course he has. Natasha should have known he'd try to find as much as he could on his own before marching in to demand actual answers.

"Good. Then you know not to expect much," she says. "For what it's worth, I do believe that he's still your best friend. Maybe seeing you is just what he needs to remember that."

The elevator door slides open quietly and Steve steps out with determination, but when he notices that Natasha isn't moving with him, he pauses. "Romanoff-"

"Natasha," she insists. She's sure they'll be seeing more of each other.

"Steve." The Captain nods. "Thank you, Natasha."

"I didn't do anything," she corrects him, but she smiles. "Good luck." With that, she pushes the button to close the door. She wouldn't want to intrude on a reunion.

Steve has no trouble finding Bucky's room, because there's a nametag on the door. He doesn't take a deep breath, he doesn't brace himself before knocking and maybe that's why he feels like falling apart the moment his formerly dead best friend open the door.

"Bucky."

Bucky squints at him, like he doesn't trust his eyes. This man in front of him looks so familiar, but that's not possible, is it? Except yes, it is real.

"You're Steve," he whispers.

And suddenly all his dreams make sense.

[clara-maybe-ontheroad]

Sand/Ray/Mew/Top on knowing who you are and what you want (Only Friends ep 3)

I watched the 3rd episode of Only Friends tonight and I have a lot of feelings about how Sand, Ray, Mew and Top represent different aspects of knowing who you are and what you want... So it isn't proper meta but here are some random thoughts :

I really appreciate Ray being unapologetic about being into Sand on some level, even if it isn't romantic, he's so forward about wanting to drive him home, spend time with him, listen to him play and sing, eat the food he cooked ... and sleeping together again obviously, but I think it's how honest he is about wanting to be around Sand that makes it hard for Sand to resist him. And that makes it hurt so much more when Ray just as openly prioritizes someone else (Mew) over Sand.

But even then, I think Ray's earnest feelings are going to be very attractive to Sand. Ray is genuine in his feelings for Sand and doesn't hesitate to pursue him, and maybe Sand is going to wish him to stop being so self-loathing and go for what he loves because he deserves it. I'm not saying it will happen, but I could see a world in which Sand somewhat encourages Ray to go after Mew, especially since he clearly doesn't care much for Top.

What's that about by the way, what's the history between Sand and Top ? I absolutely love Sand scratching his temple while showing his middle finger to Top after they've made eye contact, and Top's immediate reaction to criticize Sand's band being there is a very good way to make it clear to us that they've had beef. They could be ex lovers, but I don't get that vibe actually, I feel like their dislike for each other runs deeper and is probably more meaningful than that.

As an aside, Khaotung/Ray's flirtatious eyes at Sand in this episode are God-tier, he is SO FUCKING GOOD at looking at him through his eyelashes in a way that feels both slightly submissive and in complete control. He's a cute sexy cat and he knows it, and First/Sand is doing such a good job at being slightly disarmed, attracted to him, slightly flirt back but yet playing it cool and holding back from feeding it too much haha. They act like Ray is so excited to see Sand and want to jump on him at all times and Sand is afraid of getting burned but finds Ray to endearing to resist, and it's delicious to watch

I'm talking about these eyes and these smiles and these eyes and smiles (thank you @justme-1723 and @intolove). I'm absolutely not over them.

The way Ray asks Sand if he's going to charge him for their night together somehow feels so different to Boston telling Nick he's updated their relationship to being a regular. Between Ray and Sand, it feels more like an expression of Ray's slight vulnerability, his being used to having to spend money on people for them to stick around, and a reflection of their teasing relationship where their banter is largely based on calling each other jerks.

Plus Ray telling him their night was priceless anyway was such a smooooootth line haha, slightly corny but definitely efficient. Could almost distract you from the fact that he's deflecting on Sand's joke that he should see a therapist.

Sand's comments throughout the episode that Ray should see a therapist remind me of the way I've seen people try to joke around some topics to bring them up to a friend or lover, because they actually thing they need help but aren't in a position to straight up communicate that. Sand is acutely aware that Ray is messed up and that his issues are above his paygrade, and I respect him for that.

Everyone in the friend group is excited when Ray mentions talking to his dad about the pool party being thrown for PR, I assume because that means he might pay for it. No one is excited at Ray picking the band or even seems to know he's that into music as well. Aouch

Top and Mew's silent disco date felt very random in this episode, like there was little context for it except to say that they do go on dates ? It's a good opportunity to show through that dude Beam hitting on Top that Top has actually not engaged with his former hook ups since going out with Mew, but also that he won't outright say he's dating Mew if there is not benefit for him to say so. Mew's reaction is also very telling of the fact that he knows Top's history of sleeping around, can be secure in himself very well and that he won't give in to feeling like he's lucky to have Top's attention.

Edit : maybe this scene is more interesting than I thought, thank you to @chickenstrangers and @ranchthoughts for pointing out here the metaphor of everyone being in different headspaces within the same relationship. Maybe I'd push it even more to say they're not really listening to each other, they think they're dancing to the same beat while they don't actually know what music the other person has in mind.

Though really this scene just feels like it was made to get Top to say "I wanna be a hero but a villain is my role" while Mew looks at him like yes to both

Jennie's boyfriend the bartender is the one to point out Ray's alcohol problem now, I guess you need at least one per episode !

Sand pointing out all the roles he fills for Ray really highlights how lonely Ray is, and how close Sand is to acting like a best friend and even a boyfriend to Ray when they don't know each other that well. And when Ray already has a best friend that he dreams of being boyfriends with.

As Sand identifies all the needs he's tending to for Ray, and how much Ray seems to want someone who is everywhere in his life like a boyfriend contradicts what he says about wanting to be friends only, he's clearly scared both of Ray falling for him and of falling for Ray. Which makes me think he knows he cares too much about people who needs his help, and once again it's really going to hurt when Ray rejects his guidance and makes bad choices for himself

Sand strikes me as the most self aware character of this show, even more than Mew, careful about who he lets in and smart enough to know he should maybe avoid the challenge (where Mew chases it) instead of tempting fate. Not going to be enough though

Mew immediately noticing that Ray is flirting with Sand and encouraging him to go for it is true best friend behavior, even though on the receiving hand it hurts like hell, and I feel for Ray. He does seem touched by how sincere Mew is in wishing him happiness, and that's adorable

Ray is absolutely incapable to hide his annoyance with Top when he's around, and their battle of "we're rich boys who know prestigious bands" is kinda funny

But Ray also respects Mew's autonomy, and does nothing with Boston's provocation to interfere in Mew's relationship with Top. Ray is smart enough not to trust Boston's goading (for now) and to know he's not in a position for Mew to like him that way

Ray presenting driving Sand home instead of waiting for a taxi ride as "saving him" on the same level as Sand preventing Ray to drive drunk is hilarious and a good sign that Ray really doesn't do much for anyone

Especially not without ulterior motives since they end up making out. Their make out also feels more intimate than Nick and Boston who have actually been hooking up for a month or something. The places those faces and those hands go...

They're making out in the same parking lot that Ray called Mew from after he was kicked out of Sand's place and got frustrated he was being put aside for Top. And that's where Mew calls Ray as his second choice after Top to help him, and so Ray drops everything for Mew and doesn't get into Sand's place even though he could. The symmetry of those situations is striking.

The way Ray not only picks up his phone, but fully pushes Sand away and readjusts his clothes properly, like it wasn't happening, like Mew is the legitimate boyfriend and he doesn't want to get caught hooking up with Sand who's just a side piece, hurts more than Ray going to help his friend, and I'm pretty sure Sand feels the same. Ray is showing him what he wants most.

The revelation that Ray and Mew did apparently hook up two years before is very interesting and I don't know if I believe it ? If it's true, it does feel like it was maybe experimentation for Mew and Ray respected that, and that honestly feels pretty realistic and respectable to me ; it's crazy that it's enough to make Top question if Mew is cheating on him, especially given how he is himself surrounded by people from his past and has so far resisted them. Maybe precisely he feels stupid if he's resisting them while Mew isn't, or he's also projecting and thinking that in Mew's shoes he'd use Ray's feelings for him to get some sex on the side

If it isn't real though, I'm curious about if it's just a Photoshop/angle of the picture making it look different, but Boston says he has a video too. He could be lying though, obviously

Interestingly enough, I feel that the couple that was arguably centered at the beginning, Top x Mew, is the least interesting this episode, because on their end everything is basically reaction to other characters. What they're doing and what they will do in the next couple of episodes will largely be consequences of Boston and Nick's actions (dedicated post here)

Meanwhile, Ray and Sand are trying to develop their own thing, on their own terms, aside from the rest of the group, like they've done the previous episodes. But with Sand being roommate with Nick and Top x Mew about to implode because of Boston, they're definitely not going to continue being outside of the main drama. I'm not sure how Ray will handle it and how it will impact his relationship with Sand yet... Looking forward to episode 4 !

[thatanimewriter]

FUCK THIS SHIT, I'M OUT.

➳ request: Hi can i have ruby, and weiss accidentally finding a stoic gn!s/o who breaks down in private after being strong for so long? Btw thanks for your hard work your blog has been really helping me whenever i feel down

➳ character/s: ruby rose, weiss schnee

➳ warnings: swearing, spoilers for volume 9 (and probably all of rwby), violence, more focused on how they react and what they do to make you feel better than them finding you

➳ notes: omg it's meeeee, except i don't remember when i last cried because i'm so used to not ._. anyone who also feels like this knows what's up

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 / 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭  / 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 / 𝐰𝐢𝐩 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

── 𝐑𝐔𝐁𝐘 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄.

if we're talking volume 9 ruby, she's probably gonna blow up as well

for sure less likely to hear you out

and big argument time

but if she's worked through all that shit, she'll just give you a massive hug and let you swear, scream, shout and cry it out

probably would say she understands your state of mind, but not because she knows what you're going through

but because she knows what it feels like to keep it all in until it overflows

will offer to spar with you as well if you wanna beat the shit out of something

but maybe you'll have to not kill her, idk

would take you out for food or a drink if that's what you want to do

get your mind off of things

no clue if rage rooms are a thing in the rwby universe, but if there are, she'd also offer to take you there

maybe you need to go to a random field and scream

she doesn't know if you're crying because of sadness or anger

but as long as you're getting it out and no longer suppressing

she doesn't mind :))

── 𝐖𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐄𝐄.

early weiss would be hearing none of it

but weiss later on would be there to listen to you

she also figured you'd have a breaking point soon because you'd been trying to be tough for ages

a little bit surprised, but would sit with you anyhow and be a lil therapist for a bit

will make you a hot chocolate or something after you've let it all out

anything to ease the pain

doesn't want to chip in with similar experiences she may or may not have

because she doesn't want to make it seem like she's making it about her

would do some summoning if you want to physically take out some feelings

some awkward hugs, but you appreciate the gesture

will frequently check in on you from then on

just to make sure you don't get to that point again

gotta periodically empty the jar before it gets too full

maybe would summon something that you can use as a therapy dog (therapy manticore)

[cinnamonest]

your xiao x teacher!darling post got the absolute degenerate part of me thinking and now my fav dynamic is xiao x therapist!darling. poor boy cant control himself when literally anyone shows a sliver of kindness at all. darlings naivety has lead her to brush off any signs of a crush as a coincidence until he eventually cant take it anymore and noncons her because he has no other way to communicate what he wants. <3

Yesssss he would fall in love with someone who shows him the slightest semblance of caring, this is accurate

---

He didn't want to go, but either someone (an employer noticing a lack of output or the like) essentially forced him into it. Therapy... he doesn't need something like that. He's perfectly fine. Is he the most social or upbeat person in the world? No, but that doesn't mean there's anything wrong with him. He's very begrudging about it at first, thinks that maybe after a session or two you'll realize he doesn't have anything wrong with him, and that there's no reason for him to keep coming.

Likewise, he doesn't really... open up very easily. At first, he gives a lot of one-word answers. Yes, no, maybe, etc. Occasionally "I don't know," which is an improvement, since it's three words. You have to work with him for a while to get him to open up about himself and his feelings. You do insist he should keep coming, this being at first much to his dismay, but after a while... he doesn't mind it as much. He keeps finding that he does feel better overall after each session for the rest of the day. Maybe it's not so bad after all, he thinks. It's probably just catharsis.

When he finally does really open up, though, it all sort of comes pouring out at once, like a bursting dam. He has a particularly bad day or something, and he just kind of breaks. It all comes spilling out -- how he has no motivation in life, no direction, his life feels devoid of anything that brings him pride or happiness, so on and so on. How he has no partner... no friends... no ambitions... he's just... very empty. He doesn't use the word lonely, but he does mention more than once that he has no real source of interaction.

Well, of course, you see that as a very fixable issue. Of course someone with no social support or resources would feel isolated and consequently depressive. He just needs, you know, a social network. Friends.

...Except therein lies the problem.

Do you ever go out to social venues?

No.

Do you ever try talking to your peers?

No.

Do you have any special interests that there might be events for?

No.

You go down the line, but get the same answers. You find he work from home, never goes out for lunches or groceries, preferring to get it all delivered. The most social interaction he gets is you and the occasional email back and forth to his employer. No hobbies, except for games and collecting some niche things. Terrible eating and sleeping habits, he gets no nutrition, is addicted to caffeine, never gets any sunlight or fresh air, and his internal clock is completely in disarray from an irregular sleep schedule, no doubt contributing to his depressive issues.

And when you suggest he try to get out more and make acquaintances, he gets an uncomfortable look on his face. He mutters something about how he'll try, but he's not even really trying to hide that it's insincere.

On the bright side, he does seem to make some effort to fix his other habits, but you realize very quickly he has no intentions of actually trying to form relationships with others. You keep stressing that social interaction is essential to one's mood and mental health, but it's like talking to a brick wall. Eventually you lay off trying to get through to him on that end.

But he also gets much better about being very transparent, will openly talk about things that upset him or bother him. He ends up starting to take up the whole allotted half-hour as well, whereas he used to be so closed-off that after fifteen minutes or so you'd run out of anything to say and end things early.

In fact, after a while, he ends up switching his weekly session to a different day of the week so that he can come in for a full hour. He's still somewhat awkward about it all -- he never looks you in the eye, tends to do these sort of nervous habits like wringing his hands and bouncing his leg a lot, but the fact that he keeps coming back is a testament to the fact that he's obviously getting something beneficial out of your sessions.

...In truth, though, it's not really your advice or anything. Actually, he hasn't been following said advice at all -- he's still staying up late at night, hasn't changed any consumption habits, he just lied about having fixed both of those because he didn't want you to be disappointed.

But he is happier. He looks forward to coming to see you, it's the highlight of his week. He just enjoys your presence. You're so nice, your voice is so soothing, you smile when you see him and it makes him feel all warm and weird, but in a good way, an addictive way. No one has ever asked him about how he feels before. No one has ever given him empathy for his problems. And sure, he feels bad not fixing his habits and lying and all that, but the concern you show for his well-being makes him feel cared about, like he has significance to you. He's not lying when he says he feels a lot better these days.

He knows, of course, that you're doing all of this because you're getting paid. If he didn't have the money, he wouldn't be here. It's your job to care... or at least pretend to. Maybe there's a slight empathy there that's just part of human nature, but if he were to stop coming tomorrow, he would never cross your mind again, he's sure of that. Sometimes he lays there at night (well, morning, since he goes to bed around 3 a.m. or so), reflecting on the matter, sulking in bitterness about it. Yeah... it's just feigned concern. It's just your job.

...No, you're not pretending. Sure, you are getting paid, but you're a sweet person, you're so nice, surely you do care. Plenty of doctors and similar professions do genuinely care about their patients, and often get personally emotionally invested in their well-being, right? That's why they go into the profession in the first place! The same is true for you. You wouldn't be doing this if you didn't care.

So, then... you do genuinely care. You have to. Even if money is a transactional part of the matter, you do really care, even if it's just that you simply wish good for his well-being out of general empathy and benevolence. It is real in its own way. It's a blissful thought.

You've already noticed that these sessions are more conversations these days than anything. He keeps derailing the sessions by asking you about your life, what you do in your spare time, the kind of questions you might ask a client (even the more invasive questions). You entertain the questions briefly, since it's good for him to get some interaction, but you always follow up your answers with a 'well, let's get back to talking about you, okay?' And he's compliant... until asking another question about you a few minutes later. And back and forth it goes.

Until one day, he sort of crosses a line.

In his defense, you asked him first. You figured that he would probably be happier with a partner, most people are, but for someone like him, you know getting one might... present a challenge. Can't meet people if he never goes out, and you're pretty certain he'd be the type to avoid dating apps like the plague, so you don't even bring that option up. But you did figure it would be worth asking if he's ever had one. He went to school and college, right? Maybe had a high school sweetheart or a college relationship or something?

No. He just shakes his head. You can tell he's about to say something, you see his lips part just the slightest, so you stay quiet. But he takes a few moments to speak.

...What about you?

The question catches you a bit off-guard. You hesitate for a moment, and just sort of mumble. Oh, well, that's... that's not really relevant, haha. Anyway...

He just nods in response, but you can see the displeasure on his face. Maybe he's irked he didn't get an answer, or maybe he's formed his own conclusion based on the lack of an answer, and doesn't like that conclusion. Still, it doesn't feel quite as awkward as that time you got around to the standard 'are you sexually active' question and just got a blank stare and quick shaking of the head as a response, so at least it wasn't that bad.

Regardless, he doesn't stop trying. As time goes by, he keeps prying more and more, trying to get information out of you, always seemingly displeased when you abruptly cut him off. He might be a bit socially inept, and isn't always particularly perceptive, but he gets the message when you are clearly shutting him down from asking anything further. And he wouldn't want to upset you, so he obliges. Always walking a thin line.

But if he can't get answers out of you, he'll have to resort to other measures. It's compulsive, he has to do it, he's been losing sleep over the thoughts.

It's not too hard to find you online. Aside from a brief listing of you on the psychiatric group's website, he eventually tracks you down on social media, your family, your friends. You did say he needs to learn how to do social networking, right? This is sort of like that, minus any of him actually interacting with anyone. In fact, it's incredibly easy to find all sorts of things about you. He's able to find even more, the deeper he digs. Where you got your certification. Where you went to high school. Old pictures of you, thankfully some of your acquaintances have public social media profiles and an image with you in it here or there. He ends up spending hours and hours scrolling through page after page, only realizes how long he's been looking at it when he sees the sunrise through the window.

It almost makes him feel guilty and embarrassed the next time he sees you. How is he supposed to look you in the eye knowing he spent several days scouring the web for crumbs of your existence? What would you think if you knew about that? You'd be freaked out for sure.

You notice he's acting a bit off, but, well, he's a bit of a unique individual, slightly eccentric or unusual behaviors and mannerisms aren't uncommon for him. He fidgets and mumbles a lot and leaves a bit earlier than usual, kicking at the leaves on the sidewalk in frustration as he walks, all the way until he's home.

He's fully aware it's all unhealthy. He realizes it's a sign there's something wrong with him. But obviously there is something wrong, or he wouldn't be coming to you to begin with.

But that leads to a new train of thought. If he were to fix his problems, there wouldn't be a need to see you anymore. Or even if you saw him sometimes, you'd probably tell him he doesn't need to come in as often or for as long. That thought is unpleasant, as soon as it crosses his mind, he begins to worry. What if he runs out of problems to talk about? Or, more likely, what happens when you realize he's not making the changes you told him to? You'll reach an impasse, where there's nothing you can do and give up on him.

So if he fixes his problems and gets better, you'll be out of his life. But if he refuses, the same will be true. No matter what he does, he's at risk of losing you. There's no route he can take that works out in his favor! He ends up pacing around his room, running through his thoughts on the matter for hours. He was hoping to think of another way at first, but after a while he's forced to acknowledge there's really only one way to ensure he can continue to see you indefinitely: having to go out of his way to ask you to meet him outside of the sessions.

And, well, he quite simply cannot do that. Absolutely no way. The mere thought makes him feel sick. There's no way he can summon the gall to ask you that. You would surely say no, probably get creeped out if not worse. He probably wouldn't be able to see you at all after that.

But if he doesn't do something, one way or another, this can't last, and the knowledge that it can't last is going to eat him alive every waking second. It already keeps him awake at night.

He knows he's reaching the so-called point of no return when he finally gives into an urge he's been having for a while: waiting until your day ends and following you home, on a day that's not the day he comes to see you (if he planned it on that day, he'd surely act strange enough beforehand that you'd be wary). He knows that that is definitely something normal people do not do. Normal people occasionally internet-stalk, sure, but this? It's the kind of thing people get involuntarily committed for. Would you do that? Would you get him in actual trouble if you knew about it? He would like to think you would be okay with it, but the rational part of his brain says otherwise. He tries to prevent himself from doing it again, but once the impulse is given into once, it's harder to fight off in the future, and he ends up doing it again, and again.

If you really wanted to point a finger of blame to what pushes him over the edge, though, it would unfortunately be the internet. He has no one better to ask how to solve his problems, so why not a bunch of strangers behind screens?

He's frustrated with the answers he gets. Granted, it is the internet populace, but when he posts to an anonymous board about his problem, he's still irked that the answers are far from helpful. Sure, after posting it, he realizes that the way he worded the whole thing is really really creepy, and that he probably should not have included the details of having followed you home and stalked you online ("collecting data" was the term he used, though), but these replies are unnecessary. Mostly poking fun at him, replying with implications that he's a stalker and memes. One guy mockingly replies with "here try this" and a staged stock photo of someone tied up in the trunk of a car. Ugh. Should have known better than to trust these assholes to be of any help. He's not like that.

...Is he?

You know, a mentally sound person wouldn't even consider such a thing, or so he thinks to himself. Guess you were right to say he needed frequent sessions.

Admittedly, the thought does stick with him. Couldn't say exactly when it goes from a laughable, far-fetched idea to something that starts to seem feasible and practical. It's a gradual thing, perhaps. The thought just pops up in his head every now and then for a few minutes, and the more it occurs, the more desensitized to the concept he gets, the less it triggers that socially instilled sense of immediate avoidance and nervousness most people get at the thought of committing a serious crime.

Likewise, the more he thinks about it, the more justified it feels. Technically, you are there to help him get better. You were supposed to fix him. So, from a logical point of view, if he does something... abnormal, perhaps criminal, to you, that's technically your fault for not curing him, right? If you had done your job a bit better, he wouldn't be having these thoughts to begin with. Besides, when you chose this career path, you're knowingly acknowledging risks like this. Which means you were okay with taking the risk of this happening to you, which is basically a form of consent in and of itself, is it not? The more he repeats it to himself -- and he does, over and over, whenever he's sitting slouched over in his desk chair or laying in bed or taking a (rare) shower -- the more he gets used to the idea, envisions it in his head.

He cancels one week. Calls the front desk of the psychiatric facility (a big step for him, as much as he hates having to talk to strangers on the phone, so you're proud of that much), tells them he has to cancel over a schedule conflict. Which does strike you as odd -- since when does he have anything else going on in his life? Maybe he's finally listened to you and decided to go be social or something, or maybe it's just another type of appointment... you hope maybe it's the former.

In truth, he's worried things will go badly if you see him right now. He's not in a very good state of mind, it's all becoming too consuming, he's neglected sleep and work. He has to take that week to work himself back down, get rid of the jitteriness and bloodshot eyes that you would undoubtedly notice if you saw him in person. Just enough to see you again without you immediately getting freaked out.

You know something is a little off, still, when he does come in the following week. But that's normal, people often behave strangely when going through periods of change in their lives, so this is actually probably a good sign!

...Although it is rather unsettling. It's different from his usual brand of weird. Instead of the frustrated tone and grumbling and looking at the ground, his voice is very... flat. Empty. No trace of the usual demeanor, not even the coldness he can get when he's particularly irked.

But even more unnerving is that, rather than looking at the ground, at the wall, back and forth the way he always does, he looks right at you. Fixated on your face, eyes staring directly into yours, you haven't even seen him blink. His own expression is also completely blank, transfixed. It's incredibly unnerving, you find that you end up looking down at the ground for once. You did tell him once that he doesn't make eye contact enough for social appropriateness, so maybe he's trying a little too hard to rectify that or...?

You feel like somehow he's getting worse, and yet for some reason, when you ask him the standard opening question -- how have you been? -- he seems to perk up.

He nods, finally shows some emotion in the form of what appears to be a sort of resolution on his face. He says he's thought a lot about some of the things you've said. That you were right, that he can't keep living with no goals or direction, can't keep up the unhealthy lack of socialization. So, he's put a lot of consideration into it, and he's decided that very soon, he's going to be making some major changes to his life, for the better.

Well, if that's truly the case, you're very happy for him, you say. Granted, based on his history, you're not inclined to believe he's actually going to make any changes, but part of the job is always believing in your patients and all that. He seems more determined than usual, so, maybe he really is serious about it. You hope so. He seems like such a sweet boy at heart, you really do want to see him change for the better and be happy.

He knows that too. Says he's very serious about it this time. He's going to go through with what he's decided is the best course of action, and in the end, he will be perfectly content and happy. He'll probably be more productive, more energetic, more motivated, everything. It'll all get better.

And technically, you will be the cause. You'll see. He'll be sure to thank you for all your help, too, he's very grateful.

[miss0atae]

Random Thoughts about Dream Episode 7:

We are at episode 7 and we're still waiting for the romance to kick in. You know I believe Wan and Kim fans are strong soldiers because these two can't seem to find the way to express themselves properly. I'm not saying they have it easy, but being this bad is kind of a performance. They never get a time were they could share a romantic moment or sharing an activity where they are happy together. The only time we see them a little bit happy is in Dream Land and I don't count this as a real time because Kim can't remember being with Wan there.

I'm half believing they have Toon and Minnie in the series, to show us a beautiful and loving relationship. They are incredible. If only the series was about them at this point, because at least there isn't any misunderstanding between them. They are just in love and it's beautiful. Also, this intimate scene was…. wow.

It was kinda cool to see Wan saving the day and taking down the pervert who took pictures of the woman in the club. It's just so sad that Wan has this cool personality that she doesn't show all the time. To be honest, I even thought she wasn't really friendly with other women from what we saw on previous episodes. Except for her group of friends, she seemed rather hostile to everyone. It was a nice change. Of course, it didn't turn out on her favor and that what bother me. I know violence is not the solution, but frankly this man deserved it.

Mawin is a bit too much, no? He did this big event just to ask someone out . I mean, yeah, Kim deserves to be loved. I see how Mawin thought it would be just a big romantic gesture to do. It's cute… but also very much suffocating. At least, it is for me. I don't think Kim is also a fan because she wasn't really radiating happiness at this moment. Also, why would you invite your girlfriend's mom?! So weird.

So my problem this episode was when they revealed Wan's depression. I think it's important to show that people can have depression and when they are helped by someone, they may overcome it, with time (some people find the way by themselves but it's another story). As someone who was very depressed some years ago, I'm glad we can find a representation. Not every depression is the same. It is different for everyone. It's great they showed Wan seeking help from a therapist. A positive representation of therapy is always good. So many people still believe only crazy or weak people seek a therapist. I just wished they gradually showed us about Wan's depression. It felt to me like it was just one big surprise that came out from nowhere, because we never really saw it before (maybe the flashback but the focus wasn't on this, so I'm not sure). Also, social media detox can be good, but do you have to go MIA from your friends and family to do it? I've never done it, but I don't think it would be wise.

Again, it's so hard to really like this series because they have really good ideas but it doesn't work. The actors do their job well and they are convincing, but I wished the producers and screenwriters just chose to not follow the book and only took the names and few ideas to create something new. We'll see what they have for his in the next episode.

[ae-azile]

You're Invited…

Event: Tankhun Theerapanyakul's 30th Birthday Extravaganza

Theme: Roaring 20s 

Place: Hum Bar

Date: November 25th, 2022 

The digitally curated invitation arrives as a group text on Kim's phone two weeks before the date in question. When it arrives, he is strumming a tune so melancholy that it makes him feel he isn't emotionally ready to put together lyrics for it yet. Kim isn't sure why he isn't ready. Writing sad songs over the last five months has been commonplace. So common that his agent has asked him several times if he is okay. Vice is more thoughtful than his record label. His record label has only asked if he could please just write a couple of happy bops for the new album, or at least one. 

His answer to Vice?

Of course I'm okay. Why would you think otherwise?

As for his answer to his record label?

No.

Regardless, neither answer seems to please them. Not that he is used to pleasing people, at least not the people who matter to him in some capacity. It has been a habit since Ma died, likely developing as a way to rebel against and to agitate Pa, only to spread like a disease. Pa wants a guard on him? Order the guard to leave or run away if they don't obey. Pa wants him to work a mission at seventeen? Kill the shitty ally who pointed a gun to his head to make Kim comply with his demands at an event when he was thirteen, all while letting their enemy walk free. Kinn finds out the reason Kim made that decision and strongly suggests Pa add a therapist to the roster, even though Pa always said no to doing that for Khun? Make the therapist rush out of the room in tears during their first and only session, then distance himself from an extremely concerned, desperate, and apologetic Kinn.

Chay finds out Kim used him to figure out just how terrible his father is? Pretend like he isn’t bothered and leave Chay heartbroken, only to end up heartbroken himself.

While that last one left a terrible taste in his mouth, it is clearly a tactic that mostly works for him. Look at all the lonely, sad, but high-quality music he is producing. He is curating a great album for someone to play as they write a suicide note. While Kim doesn't condone that, he thinks every person should have the perfect soundtrack for any poignant life event.

Porsche: Looking forward to it! Kinn and I will go shopping for our outfits this week. 🙂

Kinn: Couple coordinated? ❤️❤️❤️

Porsche: You know it 😁❤️

Tankhun: 🤮

Kim has to agree, but keeps his own vomiting emojis to himself. 

Tay: Time and I will be there too. Happy to celebrate with you! 

Tem: I'll be there as well.

Tay: 😐

Jom: See you guys there! 

Yok: Looking forward to decorating the bar and celebrating with you, Tankhun! 🙂💜🍾🥂

Kim isn't even sure how he got Tem's, Jom's, and Yok's numbers. He probably found them and added them to his contacts when he was obsessively researching Porsche's origins on a caffeine bender. Whatever. They are in his phone now. 

Unknown Number: Okay.

Porsche: You can come, but no drinking!!!

Fuck. It's Chay's new number. 

That has Kim going from passively watching the conversation on his phone to quickly picking it up to click on the group text list and go through everyone in the chat. He has all of them saved on his phone except for two numbers and the list isn't very long. Not surprising. Tankhun went from a popular boarding school student to a traumatized, agoraphobic shut-in who cut himself off from everyone outside of the family and his bodyguards. He is only coming back to himself - or developing a new version. It is a mix of the sharp, caring, and charismatic big brother he used to have and the eccentric and over-the-top persona he put on after the kidnapping. He is both recognizable and a complete stranger, and Kim has missed him so much. 

Not that he will say that out loud. 

But maybe he can show him. He can show him that he cares and that he loves him. Kim never stopped loving either of his brothers, despite the distance he put between himself and his family. He never wanted to distance himself from Tankhun. He would have taken Tankhun with him. Kim told him they could share an apartment, even when he knew Tankhun told Kinn about why he killed one of Pa’s allies. He never blamed Tankhun for that and he still doesn't. Tankhun had just wanted Kim to get the help he was denied, even though Kim clearly doesn’t need it. Kim had wanted (and still wants) his oldest brother with him so they could get away and put all their shit behind them. 

And Tankhun wouldn't leave. So Kim left alone and he stayed that way. Alone. 

But Kim can choose not to be alone, at least for one night. He didn't realize how alone he felt, not until he came to his senses and - unfortunately - Chay came to his senses too. Maybe a party will be good for him, even though parties are never good for him. Unless he is hired to perform at one, he doesn't want to be at them. Ever. 

Apparently Chay does. Chay is going and Kim hasn't seen him in person for months. That means Kim is going too. 

Kim: Count me in. 

Tankhun: HE SPEAKS. 😱

Kim: Did you want me to ignore your invitation? 

Tankhun: Of course I didn't. I just expected you to. You better dress up in a costume.

Kim: No.

Thankhun: 🙄 Fine. Just look nice. And ACT nice. Socialize. Do not stand in a corner all night. You deserve to have fun, believe it or not. 

No. He doesn't. But he doesn't say that.

Kim: Okay.

Tankhun: …Is everything alright?

Kim stares at the text.

Kim: Why?

Tankhun: Because you are agreeing to come to a party.

Kim: I have attended parties before. It isn't that absurd of a concept.

Tankhun: Because you haven't come to the compound in months and skipped Pa's birthday dinner. 

Kim: Why would I go to that?

Tankhun: Because he faked his death so Uncle Gun would force an attack and neither of them cared if their sons were killed in their violent feud. Because our father killed his brother. Because our cousin will likely never walk again. 

Kim: Haven't you hated Vegas for years?

Tankhun: And yet I cry every time I think of how he must be feeling. Even though I hated him for years, I loved him for much longer. 

Kim: Hm.

Tankhun: Kind of like you with Pa.

Kim: It's very different, but whatever.

Tankhun: Is that why you texted me privately to accept the invite? So Pa wouldn't see your text and be more likely to come too? I seriously doubt he will come, by the way. Hum Bar doesn't seem like his thing. 

That isn't why. However, it is a plus. 

Kim: Sure. 

Tankhun: Are you actually okay? Something seems wrong.

It's a question from his agent that he regularly answers with lies. Why can't he text a lie to Tankhun? He should be able to text a one worded lie to his brother, yet his finger and thumb won't cooperate. Chay always playfully picked on him when it came to how he texted, with his left thumb and right index finger. Kim had pointed out that not all people game to the extent where using both thumbs to communicate as their go-to. Kim beat him at speed texting out the lyrics to some random song, and Chay beat him at Mortal Kombat in retaliation. 

The memory makes Kim go lie down on the couch and stare at his reflection in the dark television screen, his phone left abandoned on the coffee table. An hour later, Tankhun lets himself into his apartment and Arm makes himself scarce by going into his kitchen to make dinner for the three of them.

Kim silently wishes him luck on that front. Other than some spices in the cabinet by the stove, coffee in the pantry, and a couple of takeout containers in the fridge from who knows how many days ago, he doesn't have much else to work with. 

"Lift your head up," Tankhun says, urging him until he has enough room to sit down so that Kim's head is falling in his lap, "Let's watch a movie." 

Whatever. 

The movie in question deals with a couple gradually becoming more and more estranged. Of course it does. There is no happy ending in sight, so it is just like slowly watching tragedy unfold. Tankhun - predictably - cries his eyes out. Kim - not so predictably - cries too. But he's more subtle about it. He is actually so subtle that his brother probably doesn't even notice. 

"Kim, what's going on with you?" Tankhun murmurs sadly as Kim's shoulders shake and he soaks Tankhun's pants leg with tears.

Fine. He does notice. But Kim still doesn't respond. 

----------------------------------------------------------------- 

He needs to look good for the party. The problem is, Kim always looks good. He isn't conceited, it's just a fact. Even when he was a child, everyone talked about how beautiful he was. Ma eventually tried to redirect those types of compliments by talking about his talent and how sweet he could be. But then Ma died and Khun had to take over on that front instead. And that's a hard responsibility to hold up when you're strapped to a gurney in the infirmary and being called crazy every other month. So Kinn got to be called the new heir, Khun got to be called crazy, and Kim had been left with pretty. It's probably the most preferable out of those three possibilities anyway. 

But while Chay was likely attracted to his looks, he had been drawn in by Kim's talent. He hung off every word and piece of advice Kim gave him during their lessons. He had the courage to ask him to be his tutor. Chay looked at him with admiration and respect before he ever looked at him with hearts in his eyes, despite the pictures of Kim on his bedroom wall revealing that Chay found him at least somewhat attractive before they got close.

Chay probably tore those down. He doesn't want to look at Kim anymore. Kim knows that. If Kim were a better person, he would skip the party. It would make Chay happy, and honestly? It would be on brand for Kim. 

But maybe Kim wants to go off brand for a while. Maybe his brand of being an aloof, mysterious, and loner musician is no longer doing him or anyone else favors. Maybe he is just tired of being him. 

And maybe that's why he finds an outfit that actually complies with the roaring 20s theme. A three piece suit, complete with a stupidly expensive pocket watch. 

He feels ridiculous. He doesn't feel like himself at all. 

Good.

Except Kim got dressed too early. He doesn’t want to go back to his apartment like this. And part of him knows that once he goes back home, he may lose the gull to go back out. So maybe he will continue acting out of character. Going to Hum Bar early to help his brother decorate seems out of character. 

So that's what he does.

"Kim?" Tankhun says as soon as he comes through the doors before his eyes widen, "What are you wearing?"

Kim looks down at his clothes, "Do you want me to get clothes from my car?"

"Nope, no need," Tankhun says, then comes over to put his arms around him, "You look very nice. Handsome, actually! What do you think of my tux?"

Kim gives his oldest brother a once over. Tankhun had strayed from his own personal norm even more than Kim did. 

"It looks great," Kim tells him, causing Tankhun to beam brightly, "What do you need help with?" 

"Well," Tankhun says, glancing behind him, "Arm and I are arranging the feather bouquets. Pol and Yok are stringing the black and gold ornaments together. Why don't you put together the placemats? We'll have dinner and cake first, then the fun can really begin. Thank you for coming."

"Wouldn't miss it," Kim says, even though that would normally be a lie. Tankhun hugs him again regardless, "Happy birthday, by the way." 

Tankhun gives him a small smile, then takes a step back, "I hope it is. Now, come on! Let me introduce you to Yok."

Kim has a weird urge to let Tankhun know he knows a lot about Yok, both from Chay's fond comments about her and Kim's own research (disowned by her family, knows four languages, and has a childhood sweetheart who pointedly left the country with their son once Yok came to terms with her gender and decided to transition, which explains why she is so protective over Porsche and Chay and mothers them).

Instead, he just nods and tries to smile warmly. She seems like a nice person. She deserves warmth. She is kind to Tankhun and a very welcoming presence. Going by her interactions with his brother, Arm, and Pol, she has made friends with them. Right now, she's laughing at some joke Pol made that Kim doesn't really get but she clearly does. 

Going by how closely Khun and Arm are talking, they seem closer too. 

Weird. Although, Arm is now Khun's head guard, so maybe it isn't. Yet for some reason, watching them makes Kim feel out of place. But he snaps himself out of even attempting to analyze the situation further. Tankhun has often befriended his guards, a habit that could be heartbreaking for his brother, but beneficial because it is hard to make friends when you don’t leave the house. Maybe he is just closer to Arm than he has been to any other guard.

He feels alone. 

When Pete walks through the door, Kim is actually relieved. Because as misplaced as Kim feels, Pete has to be feeling ten times worse. 

"Pete?" Tankhun says hopefully, only having eyes for his ex-head guard as Pete cautiously walks into the bar, "You never texted back. I thought…We didn't know if…"

Pete breathes in and gives Tankhun a sad smile, "I just wanted to stop by to give you your gift and tell you happy birthday."

Tankhun nods, then glances down at the wrapped gift and cards once Pete hands them over, "You could stay, you know."

Pete just shrugs, keeping the sad smile on his face, causing Arm to step in. 

"We miss you, Pete. So much," Arm tells him, coming to stand next to Tankhun, "Why don't you just stay for dinner?"

"...I can't," Pete says eventually, "Vegas and Macau are waiting in the car." 

"...Oh," Arm says quietly, then says nothing else. What else could he say? Kim wouldn't know how to handle it. Vegas has been a sensitive topic for Tankhun for years. And after what happened, there is no way-

Tankhun lets out an unbothered sound, "That's fine! If you're worried about Macau being underage, Chay is coming too! Chay is just a year older than Macau and he needs a friend with everything going on. I am sure Macau is in a similar situation. They can chat. Get to know each other."

It's a shocking offer to hear coming out of Tankhun's mouth, even by Kim's standards. Going by Pol's and Arm's expressions, they are flabbergasted by it. But despite the thoughtfulness of the offer, Kim doesn't like it. He doesn't like the idea of competing with Macau for Chay's attention. He needs to figure out a way to talk to him, and Macau being there will give Chay a reason to ignore Kim in favor of pointedly focusing on a new potential friend. Because Chay is really great at that now. Ignoring Kim. 

It is a selfish and stupid thought. Toxic too, because Tankhun is right. Chay deserves to have friends who understand what he is going through. But Kim is tired of trying to earn Chay's attention and he doesn't want to compete with Macau. He never did. 

"Vegas is still in the car," Pete says, looking away from Tankhun. 

Tankhun purses his lips, "This place is very accessible. No steps, wide doorways. Vegas should be fine to join us."

It's an even more shocking offer than inviting Macau. But it does show how desperate Tankhun is to have Pete here.

"He…" Pete starts, still looking off to the side, "Vegas is still getting used to things. He doesn't…The wheelchair is a sensitive topic for him. It is hard enough to get him to leave the house for appointments. I was lucky to get him to agree to his therapy intake this afternoon."

"Therapy intake?" Tankhun asks, his voice a murmur, "Porsche said Vegas has been in physical therapy since waking up from his coma. He said you told him Vegas goes on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays."

Pete nods, then clears his throat, "Not that kind of therapy."

Tankhun stares at him, then nods too, "Oh. That…That's good. He has probably needed that for a long time. And he probably especially needs it now."

"Probably so," Pete vaguely agrees, then glances down at the gifts, "One of those cards is from him. He…wanted to tell you happy birthday. Apologize. Get some things off his chest, I think. He had me read it to make sure it sounded okay. It's respectful. Heartfelt. Just…Make sure you read it with an open mind and when you are ready. Don't feel like you need to open it tonight. Enjoy your birthday. I know me showing up is probably stressful enough-" 

“It’s not stressful, Pete,” Tankhun says, his voice strained, “It’s appreciated. I invited you because I wanted you here. Almost everyone I invited is someone I want in attendance. Almost. But believe me, you are not the exception.”

If anyone else in the room knows who it is, they don’t comment on it. 

“Please stay?” Tankhun says, but Pete is already shaking his head, “Please?”

“...I’m sorry,” Pete tells him, his expression pained and guilty, “Maybe…Maybe I can call you soon? We can…We’ll catch up.”

Tankhun looks at Pete with teary eyes, then finally nods silently in agreement and accepts one last hug from him before Pete takes his leave.

“I just need a minute,” Tankhun mutters, then quickly walks to one of the bathrooms. Kim isn’t sure what to think when Arm only gives him two minutes before following him. A part of Kim wants to chew him out and tell him that his brother has a right to be alone if he needs it. But when Kim goes to the door to do just that, he overhears them. 

“I know,” he hears Arm murmur as Tankhun cries, “I know you wanted him to come.”

“He doesn’t even answer my texts!” Tankhun sobs, “I thought he was my friend. He was my o-only friend for so long! And he won’t even TALK to me!”

“Khun, a lot has happened,” Arm says gently, weirdly referring to his brother personally, “It’s only been a few months. We’re all still raw from everything. That includes Pete. Give him some time. I know you miss him. I miss him too.”

“This is Pa’s fault! Pa did this! I just…I don’t…”

“I know,” Arm says again when Tankhun trails off.

And as much as he wants to see if his brother is okay, Kim lets Arm handle him and goes to pull out his phone.

Kim: How are you doing?

Macau: Why?

Kim: Idk.

Macau only responds thirty minutes later.

Macau: Horrible. Better than ever. I don’t know, man. P’Pete is a fucking saint though. I don’t care if we’re Buddhists. He has earned sainthood because he is a miracle worker who is somehow making Hia happy despite the circumstances.

A minute later.

Macau: How are you doing?

Kim just presses down on Macau’s message and reacts to it with an abacus emoji. It’s the most random one he can find. He expects Macau to be confused or tell him he’s the weirdest person he has ever known. Like he did before, back when their mothers were alive and their brothers liked each other. 

Macau: That bad, huh?

Kim leaves him on read.

To read the rest of this one-shot, go to:

[puffpasstea]

Random blurb idea - could you please do a blurb maybe where Matilda travels to surprise harry on tour, and maybe has her text notifs off bc of travel so harry is upset/concerned bc she’s not responding to his messages? Like a mix of angst and smut?

Sorry if you hate this and its nothing like you wanted.

Warnings: angst, smut, (brief) mentions of mental illness.

---

"I'm sorry, okay? but to be fair, I never said I'd come for sure. I only said I'd try." I adjusted the phone in my hand.

"I didn't say anything!"

"You didn't have to. I can practically feel you brooding all the way over here."

"'M not brooding. Know better than to expect you to just drive out cuz I happen to be playin' a show nearby. Even though we haven't seen each other in months."

"But you're not brooding or anything, right?"

"Right."

"I have to work, Harry! Not all of us can just change our plans on a whim and expect the whole world to accommodate our schedules, you know. Some of us have real jobs. Plus, you know I get anxious about this kind of thing. I'm not a professional rockstar-"

"No, you have a real job."

"C'mon, you know I didn't mean it like that."

"'S alright. I have to go, anyway. Sound check starts in a bit."

"Talk soon?"

"Bye, Matilda."

***

The wheels of my carry-on squeaked gratingly as I pulled it across the airport. I couldn't believe I was actually going through with this. I felt foolish. Like some love-struck teenager sneaking out of her bedroom at night for a boy who doesn't even know her name. Except I'm an adult. And Harry- well, it's complicated. But my therapist did say that I needed to start getting out of my comfort zone and doing things that I wouldn't normally do. Something about practice making things easier, or whatever. I've certainly never done this before. Granted I've arrived way too early for a domestic flight, and I'm sure I've overpacked for this weekend trip. Hopefully, the look on Harry's face will be worth it though.

A knot formed in my stomach every time I thought about how I spoke to him on the phone the other night. All he wanted was a chance for us to finally see each other again, but the thought made me feel threatened somehow. Like I'd admit to being attached to him if I were willing to come all this way. Of course, I could've been nice about it, or at least avoided implying that his job was less real than mine. All I can do now is hope that he doesn't still remember all that.

***

My fingers were shaky against the screen of my phone as I selected the "airplane mode" and plugged in my headphones. Perhaps getting four shots of espresso in my crappy airport coffee wasn't the sanest decision, or maybe the trembling was simply nerves, either way, I needed a distraction. Launching the music streaming app, I went for the "downloads" tab, and played "Matilda" as the pilot announced our take-off.

***

I ran across the airport, my squeaky luggage in hand until I reached the crowded escalator, regretfully bumping into the person in front of me before reaching a halt.

"E-excuse me, sorry." I whispered, but the man didn't seem to care. I peered beyond him at the long line of people. Damn was this thing crowded. I needed it to move faster. I needed to use the restroom. Airplane bathrooms gave me the creeps. And drinking soda with my stale complementary pretzels on the flight was a huge mistake with a bladder like mine.

hurry, hurry, hurry. I tapped my foot against my carry-on, impatiently, and earned a side-eye from the person in front of me.

"Again, sorry, sir."

***

I stared at my reflection in the foggy bathroom mirror. Gross airplane smell isn't exactly the scent I want Harry to associate with me. I took out my TSA-approved, mini-toiletries and began damage control. Freshening up, re-applying make-up, and spraying some perfume might help counteract the post-flight aroma and general vibe.

I promised myself that if this ends up going badly, my therapist is going to have to pay me next week.

The shorter the distance between Harry and I, the louder my heartbeat felt. It was practically in my eardrums by now. I hated keeping secrets from him, but I've also never surprised anyone before. If I was being honest, there was a tinge of excitement and anticipation about this, underneath all the self-loathing and embarrassment. No matter what happens next, I should be proud of myself for trying, right? I should...

***

At the arrivals gate, I deselected the "airplane mode" to access the internet and put in Harry's hotel address. The second that my phone caught signal again, my notifications were blowing up. It took me a minute to get over the vibrations and buzzing, and when the flood had died down, I look at my screen, blinking intensely.

Harry Styles, 12 Messages

Harry Styles, 16 Missed Calls

Harry Styles, Voicemail

Holy shit! What had I done? I worried that he'd been trying to reach me to let me know how much he hates me; how he's glad I never ended up coming out to see him after all. What if this whole thing was a mistake?

My brain froze. I hastily scrolled through his messages, too paralyzed by anxiety to process the words on the screen. Vaguely, I caught sight of "Apologize" "Just missed you" and "worried you hate me" across all 16 messages.

jumping in the cab, I relished in his voice messages and listened to them repeatedly it with a stupidly wide grin blasted on my face the whole time.

"Please don't ignore my messages. It's one thing to do that when we're within driving distance and I can just bang on your door and call your bluff, but I kind of hate when I can't do anything about it now."

"I'm really worried, and I know it's manipulative of me to say this, but, I really don't want to go onstage knowing that you're mad at me."

"okay, I'm starting to think that you do want to upset me. Don't be like this. I just missed you. Can ya blame me? The show was hell in case you care to know. I mean, I couldn't not sing Matilda now, could I? You know what I thought about the entire time I was singing it, though? Remember the one time you decided we should go to your place instead of mine, after filming? You made us dinner and I fucked you against the couch? left a nice bruise on your neck. Some of my best work, I must say. Have you been with anyone...you know, since... It's not like you can't be. Why stay celibate. I'm not your boyfriend or anything. I could be. But you don't want that, so... anyway, they're knocking on my door. Bye."

What a giant idiot.

*

It was a little past midnight by the time that my cab pulled up to the lobby of the hotel Harry and his band were staying in. I gave the receptionist the fake name he usually uses for reservations like this and they eyed me from head to toe a few times before finally confessing his room number. It was a large penthouse-sized space on their top floor. No doubt booked specifically with all his gear, luggage, and concert items in mind. During the elevator ride to the summit, it occurred to me that he might have brought someone back with him for the night. Or maybe gone out. He'd told me some stories, from the beginning of his performing career, when he'd go to afterparties, and after-afterparties and pick up women and smoke and drink and do things that I could only imagine. But, he's also told me that he has since turned in the opposite direction, opting instead, for a very structured routine on tour. He'd found that performing the very next day with a raging hangover and on very little sleep made his stage presence shaky and lackluster, and he felt it was his responsibility to always give every performance his full capacity. So, it was very likely that he'd be getting ready to go to sleep soon, but what if tonight is the exception? what if he'd decided, on a whim, to go back to his old ways, just this once?

how would I feel if I were to find his lips attached to someone else's neck right now? And before I could wait around to make up my mind about it, I found myself knocking on Harry's door.

the door creaked open, and, I could swear I saw the wheels turning in his head.

"If you must know, no. I haven't been with anyone else since being with you. Not that it's any of your business."

He went from barely looking at me through droopy eyes, clutching the middle of his bathrobe, trying to keep his chest covered to looking as if he'd seen a ghost, to grabbing the cross on his necklace, kissing it, and looking up at the ceiling.

"Thank you Jesus. God, thank you, thank you!!"

I frowned. "I didn't know you were religiou- ahhhh"

He grabbed me by my shirt collar, dragging me into the room and shutting the door behind us.

"Aren't you gonna- ask- why I'm here..." I attempted to remain cool and collected as Harry busied himself with separating me from my luggage, shoving me up against the wall and kissing everywhere his lips landed.

"Don't care" he whispered in between leaving a trail of kissing down the side of my jaw and neck. "Just care that you're here."

"H-harry, wait. I just got off a plane, there's like airplane germs all over me." I swallowed my giggles, feeling tickled by the stubble he appears to be growing.

Harry used, looking up at me through his lashes.

"Fine" He relented, his arms still around my waist, squeezing gently, as if to verify that I was really here. "You can take a shower. There's a very nice bathroom here."

"That'd be nice." I leaned in, kissing his cheek, and enjoying the blush it caused.

Harry's fingers danced down my body and took hold of my hand. "Let me give you a little tour."

"Ooo fancy!" I scanned his residence enviously, until my eyes landed on his massive, and unmade bed. "You were sleeping?"

"Not exactly....was about to. But that doesn't matter now. Cuz I've got company!" he turned around to face me, his hands cradling my face, his sparkling green eyes looking directly into mine. "are you really here or is this the dream I'm having after going to bed thinkin' about you and worrying that I haven't heard from you? Is my subconscious just makin' this up? if so, I don't ever wanna wake up."

My heart melted in my chest. I didn't know what to say, so I simply kissed his lips, causing his eyes to flutter shut and his feet to momentarily lose balance before he held onto me to steady himself.

"Ca-can I...join you in the shower?" he asked, looking down at his feet.

"Seriously, Harry? shower sex? do you know how impractical that is?"

"N-no! not shower sex." He looked at me, briefly, before sheepishly looking down at the floor again, his arms finding their place around my waist. "N-not that I don't wanna fuck you. Just-- uhh...I just wanna hold you. If that's okay? You can say no! I can just wait."

I was glad Harry wasn't looking at me because I'm sure my face would've given me away instantly. I grabbed onto the sleeve of his robe, leading him to the bathroom. "Fine. You can come." I could feel his excited gaze on the back of my head.

***

"Food'll be here in 40 minutes." Harry placed the hotel phone back in its place.

I nodded, my eyes on the tv.

"So..." He stood by the side on the bed, towering over my scarcely covered body. My hair was still damp and he insisted I wear his t shirt even though I'd packed my own pajamas. "How long are you here for?" he spoke as he crawled onto the bed, situating himself squarely in between my legs.

"just- for the- uhh- the \ weekend" I stuttered as Harry's hands slipped under the fabric of my clothes and found my breasts, his thumb and index fingers lightly running over my nipples.

"Mustn't waste time, then" he kissed a line of wet, open mouth kisses from my belly button, reaching the band of my underwear. "May I?"

"Yes. God, yes." My breath quickened. Harry's soft voice asking for permission always got me even when we were sleeping together every other night. Tonight, it downright melted me. "P-please." I mewled, instantly embarrassed.

"Eager, are we?" the grin was obvious in his voice.

"Yes!"

"Yes, what?"

My heart fluttered in my chest, skipping a beat. "Yes, sir." I corrected.

"hmm.." Satisfied, Harry hooked his fingers through the band of my underwear, slowly, teasingly, dragging it down my legs. "That's my good girl."

[plural-culture-is]

Hi! I recently found out that I'm very likely OSDD. My therapist stated that he doesn't think I'm distinct enough for a DID diagnosis, which I guess he's right as I still feel like they're all parts of me (and I'm not used to using "we" to call myself... yet?). I'm also not aware of any amnesia for full switching (twice and those only lasted for like less than an hour and I'm at contralling front again, if you know what I mean lol), so I guess I might be OSDD 1a and 1b.

The thing is, that makes us difficult to tell who is who, unless someone being relatively distinct speaks inside my headspace then I can tell by the tone or the contex (there's a "demon" and a "gaurdian angel"), and my little self doesn't show her preference difference except for that one time of short period of full switch. We don't really have our own names other than the name that this person has been living with. What else can we do to try to find out who are blended in co front/co con?

Also, how do we tell if one is DID but almost always co front/co con, or if that's OSDD 1b? Does OSDD 1b basically means DID/OSDD 1a but always co front/co con?

Figuring out who's who is something that generally gets easier with practice, but some things you can do is finding or writing a list of questions you can look over when you're blurry. These questions would be things like preferences, interests, age, pronouns, appearance, etc, whatever might be helpful for you. It's okay to not know the answers to the questions, but even just going with what seems sort of right can be helpful. You could also try looking through your system list to see who fits you best. And maybe if this isn't working because you aren't distinct enough, if you want to try to become more distinct, you could try things like finding names and separate interests. But as a side note, it's okay not to know who you are, you don't always have to know, and learning to be okay with sitting in the blurriness can be helpful.

OSDD-1b is DID but without amnesia. DID with rare complete switching is called partial-DID.

We used to think our host was permanently frontstuck and we could only co-front with him, until we found out we're monoconscious. That means we share a consciousness, so when we switch, we feel ourselves become the new fronter, rather than it feeling like someone is taking control of your body and the last fronter going into the innerworld or going unconscious. Although if you are able to do possession, as in you feel like another headmate is taking some or full control of the body from you, then you wouldn't be monoconscious, and you would always just be co-front in your case, and may have amnesia but you may only be able to tell after a full switch (which it sounds like you've experienced).

It does sound like you have OSDD-1a because your headmates aren't that distinct and they feel like parts of you, and you have some amnesia. Remember you aren't always aware of amnesia, and even if you do only have a small amount, it could still be enough to qualify for an OSDD-1a diagnosis.

[mad-hunts]

19.     entry made talking about a simple    /   normal day.

'dear diary' prompts...

[TRANSCRIPTION: so, i'd like to start this off by saying that i sometimes crave a sense of normalcy more than ever in my life... though i know that people might not expect something like that out of me. you know, because i seem so devoted to my work, i guess. but i have to say that after getting a taste of it today, it's probably when i'm at my happiest. me and jack had spent the day together, which is something we actually rarely get to do. he had told me about this crepe place that had opened up a little while ago and he seemed really eager to go there. so i invited jack to do that this morning and i swear, i hadn't seen him smile that big in a while. which did something funny to my heart.

and by that, i mean you know that feeling you get when you can't contain the love you have for someone? yeah that was pretty much what ended up happening to me; a fuzziness had hit me in the chest. but after we went there, and jack ate an impressive amount of crepes (he was really fond of the nutella and strawberry ones), my son suggested that we see this new movie that came out recently. and it was hard to pass up so of course i said yes. we snuck in some candy and drinks because, honestly, who wants to pay for the overpriced candy they have? not us so we did that and just like i expected... the theater was pretty packed since it was for the new hunger games movie. it was good though!

anyhow, after that, jack wanted to spend some time just hanging out by the water when he did something that surprised me. jack hugged me. and it was really nice, because i can't remember the last time my son gave me one like that. he went on to tell me that he missed 'this part of me.' this got me to thinking that, yeah, i have been treating him not so well for a while. so maybe i ought to change that. jack deserves to have a father who doesn't switch up on him every day, from being mean to being nice.

maybe i'll call my therapist back and tell her i want to start seeing her again. she might've said some things that i didn't like the last time, one of those being that i exhibit behaviors that are typical of sociopaths — but i guess i can make an exception for jack, because he's my little bug.

signed, barton. ]

[donnerpartyofone]

blargh.

Already debating whether this therapist is going to work out. Which is possibly a good thing if I'm resisting because I'm being challenged. But I'm concerned that her whole approach is doing "you are valid" on me. I feel like that's not really my problem, that I don't necessarily need somebody to tell me my feelings matter. I mean of course that's always a point of contention because when your feelings bring no particular consequences, then it can sure seem like they don't matter (because they really don't in any objective sense), but to me the more pressing issue is WHAT I'm having feelings about and how I grapple with that thing. You can tell me my feelings about X matter all day long and it's not going to affect what a hard time I'm having managing X in my life, and who knows maybe it will make things worse to get so excited about the validity of my feelings, I don't know if I like imagining just how much MORE anger/grief/resentment/whatever I could be experiencing if I got really into like celebrating the importance of all my feelings. Mainly though I don't think the central question of therapy, for me, is "Is it OK that I'm like this?" Frankly it has to be OK because I AM "like this", that part isn't really up for debate. I think I'm more interested in talking about WHY I'm like this, how do I make it more manageable, or maybe how do I get better at/more tolerant of the parts of life that are so hostile and alien to me. Like to use the easy example of whatever is going on with me cognitively--I'm chronically disorganized, I'm destructively clumsy, I get lost going to very familiar places, I have trouble with basic mandatory parts of adult life like filling out forms or whatever, none of this improves with practice/patience/assistance--you know, you can tell me all day long that I'm a good person and I still deserve to live, but that really has no impact on the daily suffering I experience while trying to do things. I mean what am I supposed to do about THAT, I ask you, being "valid" doesn't seem to help me cope. The valid part is just some sort of abstract concept that I can choose to subscribe to or not, like belief in god. Though actually belief in god can give you a sense of purpose, or a sense of the relative meaning of things; just liking yourself doesn't necessarily do any of that. I know plenty of people who seem to really love themselves and actually, they're just really easily insulted and entitled about everything. That seems to be not great for them or anyone around them.

This surface-level complaint is actually what caused me to quit therapy the first time; when I told that person that I was having a hard time just doing basic independent adult things, her technique was to try to convince me that I was NOT having a hard time with anything, I was just exaggerating (lying, or even hallucinating I supposed) because I have low self-esteem. Which created the incredibly destructive and surprisingly long-lasting habit of mentally cataloguing every single time I have trouble doing something, in excruciating detail, so that anyone I could tell would be forced to believe me. And actually, a lot of people don't believe me anyway, no matter what I say. Aw, there there. You're so smart though. You can do anything. Nothing is hard for you except self-acceptance. You are valid.

I'm trying to keep my mind on how desperate I felt when I decided to go back into therapy, and how hard it was to find any available therapist at all who wasn't working for a scammy startup and who wasn't a chirpy little baby who I would never be able to take seriously (or both). I'm not going to give up right away. But I cannot be paying someone to give me pep talks about how I'm OK, You're OK. I have to assert that I'm not in therapy just to be told that I'm still a nice person with good qualities, which has no effect on how hard it is for me to do things, and no effect on the CPTSD that changed my understanding of how the world works and created all sorts of maladaptive behaviors and thought patterns. There could be some value in just having an opportunity to say secret and difficult things out loud, to hear what they sound like. But I'm going to have to train this person to stop reminding me that I'm still a cool dude even if I struggle, because I don't really have a question about my value as a person. It's the struggle part I'm worried about, figuring out why it happens and learning how to cope with it.

I often bring this up, but there's an episode of [cancelled TV show] where [cancelled star] is forced to babysit for this narcissistic mom in his PTA group. Her little boy turns out to be totally demonic, eating raw meat and wreaking havoc; eventually the protagonist finds him in the tub, soaking in a pool of his own diarrhea. He explains, stone faced, that "Mommy says anything I do is OK because I love myself." That's how I'm feeling right now, like my problem is that I'm drowning in shit, and I strongly suspect that loving myself is not going to affect the level of shit that I'm in.

[and-stir-the-stars]

quick (unedited) Saffron Pawn ficlet about Ev being loveless

Summary: a therapy appointment doesn't go so well.

...

“You’re pretty close to your brother, aren’t you?” 

Evan’s elbow whacked into the firm arms of the now-vaguely-uncomfortable stiff chair as the seventeen-year-old shrugged. “I guess so.” 

The lady’s pink glasses dipped down her face as she raised a brow at him. “You guess so?” 

“Yeah,” Evan mumbled. He shifted his weight from one side of the seat to the other, uncomfortable with how intensely the lady’s brown eyes pierced into him. “I mean… Mike’s… there, I guess. More than anyone else is. Except maybe Jeremy.” 

The lady nodded at him before impatiently pushing her pink glasses up the bridge of her nose. “So, you care about your brother just because he… happens to be near you?” 

Tension shot through Evan’s body, and the teen blinked up at her. That… wasn’t what he had said. 

“You said something that stuck with me last week, Evan.” The lady tilted her head at him, her blonde hair swinging across her shoulders with the movement. “You mentioned it only briefly, but you said something about your brother. You said that he told you that he loved you, and that it made you uncomfortable?” 

“...Oh.” 

Painted pink lips flashed a sympathetic smile. “So you know what I’m talking about?” 

Evan’s gaze darted downward, away from her. His restless fingers instantly picked at the cuffs of his jacket sleeves. 

“I know that’s something that you’ve worked through with other therapists,” the lady said. “That, after the way your father treated you, your brother’s genuine love for you feels unfamiliar. Unfamiliar things often feel scary to us. That’s why so many scary stories take place in forests, in places far away from civilization and society.”

Evan’s fingers picked more insistently at his sleeve cuffs. Heat slithered through every inch of his body and wrapped around him in a painful grip. The teen almost, almost, wanted to rip his comfort jacket off entirely just to escape the oppressive heat searing through him. 

Therapists shouldn’t be allowed to say things like that so casually. 

“But if you’re unused to receiving love so unconditionally,” the lady murmured. “Then perhaps the idea of giving love is unfamiliar to you as well.” 

Evan’s green gaze flicked up in surprise, even if he couldn’t quite work up the courage to meet her eyes. “What?”

“Have you told your brother that you love him too, Evan?” 

The teen’s mouth went dry. All the moisture in his mouth had gotten sucked out along with the small slivers of comfort with this conversation that he had had left. 

“Do you love your brother?” 

Evan looked at the careful, blank look on the lady’s face with an empty pit forming in his stomach. “He hurt me.” 

“That was a long time ago,” the lady said gently. “And he’s been trying to make up for it. You know that. I think that you do love your brother, Evan. You’re not the same person you were a year ago. You’ve grown; you’re just… scared of what that means. You’re scared to admit it, because if you love someone, then you can get hurt again. But you’re not going to heal like this.”

“...Like this?” Evan whispered. “I– I care about Mike. He knows that.” 

“You told me last week that Michael said he loved you, and that you purposely didn’t say it back. Does that seem very healthy to you? Does that seem like someone who’s healing?” 

He and Mike had talked about it already. About Evan not being able to say anything back when Michael would tell him that he loved him. Michael had said he was okay with it, that he understood, and he knew Evan cared, even if Ev couldn’t describe that caring as ‘love’ specifically. 

Evan’s eyes stung at the lady’s accusations. “I didn’t say it because it isn’t true.” 

“You don’t love your brother? You should, Evan. You need to let yourself get to that point.” 

“No, I don’t!” Evan snapped. The teen rubbed fiercely at the damp spots under his eyes and nose before his just-too-long fingernails dug painful crescents into the palms of his hands. “Wh-what, I– I’m supposed to love him just– just b-because he’s my brother? Because we happened to be born to the same parents? N-No other reason?”

The lady’s painted lips fluttered, but Evan didn’t give her the chance to talk. 

“That’s stupid!” Evan snarled. “I hate him. I hate Michael, because he n-never loved me just because I was his brother; I hate him because he hurt me over and over just because he could; I hate him because he left me all alone with Father, and Father couldn’t have hurt me like he did if it wasn’t for Mike. I-I can’t ever forget that, any of that. But I… I care about him, too. Not because he’s my brother. Because he wants me to be s-safe, and he’s trying to be there for me when I need him, because he never gave up on me even when Father and all those stupid psychiatrists and every other reasonable person did. And that means something. It, it might be– it might be messy and complicated, but it means more than saying ‘I love you’ just because he’s my brother or because you think I have to so I can heal would ever mean!” 

The lady flinched as Evan pounced to his feet. Her hand reached toward the coffee table between them– maybe to reach for a ‘help, the teeenage psycho is going on a rampage’ button, or maybe just to hold the table down so he couldn’t flip it over like Evan had done in previous sessions; Evan wasn’t sure. Either way, he didn’t pay the woman any mind as he raced to the door, still wiping aggressively at the angry tears leaking down his face. 

Evan barely made it three steps into the hallway outside before one of the uniformed guards grabbed onto him. 

Evan screamed. Instinct took over, and the seventeen-year-old fought and kicked at the guard to make him let go. He didn’t succeed in freeing himself, just in making the guard’s big hands tighten around him to the point of bruising. The teen’s teeth sunk into the guard’s arm in his panic at being suddenly grabbed.

A swear ripped past the man’s lips, and he shoved Evan against the wall. The teen’s head slammed into the wood hard enough that his vision flickered, and Evan finally went limp as the air got knocked from his lungs in a starburst of exploding pain.

Evan sucked down one shaky breath of scalding oxygen after another into his aching lungs as the guard flung open the lady’s office door to ensure she was okay. 

The guard’s bruising grip didn’t loosen even after the therapist lady said that he hadn’t tried to hurt her. Evan didn’t fight this time as he was dragged through the hallway and to the lobby. 

“Evan?!” Mike went rigid in his seat at the sight of his little brother being forcibly dragged into the waiting room. Immediately jumping to his feet, Mike rushed across the room, his eyes flicking nervously between the guard and his brother. “What happened?” 

The guard didn’t hesitate to shove Evan at Michael the second he got close. 

“Got hostile,” the man grunted by way of explanation, still scowling at the seventeen-year-old that Michael had only just barely managed to keep from falling to the ground when the man shoved him.

“What the fuck?” Michael whispered as the man turned and walked away. “The fuck?” 

Evan shoved away from Michael the second that the guard was gone and Evan had enough confidence in his wobbly legs to stand on his own. Wordlessly, Evan shoved his trembling hands into his jacket pockets and moved to the exit as fast as he dared, unwilling to move at a pace that could be construed as him running no matter how desperately he wanted to get out of this place. 

He could hear Michael shouting his name from somewhere behind him, but Evan didn’t stop until he made it to Mikey’s dumb aqua-green and blue VW bus. 

Ev ripped at the handle, but the doors stayed stuck. Locked. Evan yanked at it again, like if he only tried hard enough, he could pry the doors open with his bare hands. The van was so old, maybe Evan could have. If Mike hadn’t stumbled to drag out his keys and unlock it before Evan had the chance, at least. 

Evan scrambled into the car the second the doors were unlocked. He crawled into the bench at the back on instinct, curling up against the corner with his knees pressed against his chest and his head buried into his knees. 

Sobs shook Evan’s frame now that he was in the safety of Michael’s smelly, gross old car. 

Slowly, the teen became aware of Michael in the car, too, kneeling right in front of Evan, in the empty space next to the cabinets and shelves in the VW’s back space. 

“Ev? Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” 

“I-I’m okay,” Evan whimpered. “Just my– my head h-hurts.” 

Evan’s hands fisted inside his jacket pockets. He grabbed desperately onto the material lining the inside of his pockets so he knew his hands would stay in place. Evan didn’t trust himself not to lash out at Mike otherwise. And Evan did want to lash out. Especially because, unlike the guard, Evan knew Mike wouldn’t fight back. 

He wanted to hurt Michael. 

That lady had been right about him, hadn’t she? 

“I’m sorry.” Evan sobbed even harder into his knees. “I-I’m sorry– I’m sorry if I’m not good e-enough–” 

“Evan. You are good.” 

“No! I– I don’t– I don’t love you. I c-can’t say ‘I love you’ b-back. I’m— I’m broken.” 

“No, you’re not. I don’t care if you can’t say it back. You– you don’t have to say that to me, ever. We talked about this, Evan. I know you’re trying. I know you care about me in your own way. And that’s enough for me. You’re enough for me.” 

[transpoettryinghisbest]

“Father was killed here.”

I touch his desk. I can still feel the same grooves and bumps in the wood that have always been there. The whole apartment is exactly the same as it was the last time I was here, nothing has moved an inch. Except for one piece missing. Something that I'm never going to get back. It happened so fast. I still remember his voice thanking me for the coffee, answering questions for that scary reporter. Then a thud. And he was gone. Just like that. In our own home. The same place I've been my whole life, the same four walls I've become so familiar with.

“It was supposed to be safe here,” I whisper.

“I'm sorry, Vera,” Trucy says.

I instinctively bring my thumb to my mouth and find the edge of my thumbnail with my teeth. I bite. And I remember the strange aniseedy taste. I remember ignoring it because I just needed some kind of comfort. Everyone was asking me questions, things I didn't want to think about, things that scared me. My head started to hurt. I thought it was just the stress, but my stomach started hurting too. I was sweating, the room was spinning around me. The room's spinning around me now. I think I'm going to faint. I make a whimper sound.

“Vera? Are you okay?” It's Apollo.

I want to tell him I'm not. But I can't speak, my voice has shut off again. I squeeze my eyes shut.

“Here, sit down,” he says. “Just…just get your breath back, okay?”

“You'll be alright, Vera,” Trucy adds.

He leads me into Father's chair. I'm not strong enough to object so I take a seat. I think I'm shaking. Like I did on the stand. When everything started crashing down, when I started to wonder if maybe I was at fault. It’s my fault. Or maybe that's just what they think. Why do they hate me? Why do they think I did it? The paintings. I know what I did was wrong but I didn't mean to hurt anyone. The paintings are still here. They're always going to be here unless I remove them. Everything reminds me of him, of that trial. I can't escape it. I can't escape what I did.

“Apollo, she's completely shut down,” Trucy says.

I can hear them but I can't talk back. I feel locked inside myself. Like I was locked inside this house. Not physically, but still I was unable to leave. I was trapped. I wanted to be trapped. I was scared that someone could hurt me. And someone did hurt me. I nearly died. I don't know how to deal with that fact.

“Vera, can you let us know you're okay?” Apollo says.

I'm not okay. I'm not okay. I'm not okay. I'm not okay. I'm not okay. I'm not okay.

I place my hands on Father's desk. It grounds me a little.

“Father doesn't like me sitting at his desk,” I say, eventually. It’s the only thing I can make myself say and I know they want me to say something.

“I'm sure he wouldn't mind,” Trucy replies. “Just this once.”

“Things won't ever be the same again.”

“Vera, can you hear me?” Apollo crouches so he’s in my line of sight. “Have you thought about talking to someone? Like a therapist?”

I go to tell him that I can’t. That I’m still scared despite everything. That I don’t know who I can trust but that I don’t want to live like this anymore.

I wish I could tell people what it’s like to not be able to speak sometimes. No one really seems to understand. Even Father would live in hope that one day I’d become a normal child. He died unfulfilled.

He died poor and unknown.

He’s dead.

I wish he was here now. He wouldn't know the right thing to say or do, but he'd be there. He'd be familiar. He'd be some kind of comfort. Apollo and Trucy are really trying for me, they don't have to do this. But I still feel so alone, even with them right here. I want my father back.

I start crying.

Apollo looks concerned. “Um…do you have tissues anywhere? Or do you want some water? Or something?”

I can’t even nod or shake my head. I’m completely trapped inside myself. It feels nice to cry. I don’t think I have in a while. It feels like such a strong release. But at the same time, I really don’t want to be watched and talked to when I can’t say or do anything but sit here and cry. I don’t want to be here. I want things to just go back to normal. But things were never normal. We weren’t a normal family. I’m not normal. I hate that I am this way and that I probably always will be because I’m too scared to get help.

“My daddy died too,” Trucy says. “He went missing for a while. And I always thought he was coming back for me. But I always wondered if maybe he was gone for good. Now I know he is. He always taught me to put on a brave face and not cry, especially not in front of others. But I think that was because he was scared. Scared of feelings. Mine and his. And other people’s. Sometimes it is easier to just not feel anything. But…sometimes you can’t be strong. And I think that’s okay.”

Trucy is fascinating. And not just in her magic tricks. She's so bold. She's smaller than me, but she's not afraid to stand tall, look people in the eye or speak her mind at any time. She's lost so much, but she's still so strong.

I want to tell her what I feel and what I'm going through. I want to tell her everything. But my voice is still cut off somewhat. I wonder if other people get that sometimes. Or if I'm just doomed to always be different.

“It's so hard,” I manage to say.

“Yeah, it will be,” Apollo says. “But you're going to be okay.”

“I don't know…why I'm still alive. Do you think it means something?”

“Huh?”

“I could have easily passed away. But something kept me going. I wish I knew what it was.”

“Maybe it was you?” Trucy said. “You wanted to keep living. So you did.”

I can't remember much of what happened to me when I was poisoned. I remember the moment, but after that…everything goes fuzzy in my mind. I wonder if I did have some kind of epiphany about the meaning of life and how to fight to survive through the odds. The doctors called me a miracle for surviving something that no one had survived before. Maybe there was no meaning to it at all. But maybe there was.

All I know now is that I'm alive. And I have to decide what to do with the rest of my life. It's scary. But it gives me another kind of sensation too. A feeling of hope.

[plural-affirmations]

Hiya so I don’t have any idea who to contact but I’ve been starting to think that I (we?) maybe could be a system. Here is a few traits I’ve noticed:

I forget A LOT of crap going on throughout my day, especially when its related to past trauma | Ex.: Yesterday, my therapist had asked me to describe a day living with my mom. I kinda forgot what happened during that conversation? She tells me that I swap how I act a lot, and don’t answer to my name as much.

My childhood is mostly forgotten, and kinda mixed with things that happen now. | Ex.: When I was trying to think of a specific childhood story, I started talking about something I did last week. I couldn’t remember the story after that.

I have, like, really complex stories and world inside my head that I can’t control very well that I see in the first person. These people try to talk to me but they’re voices sound misted.

There are voices in the my head that give me instruction, and I hear them more right before I disassociate and forget what happened. | Ex.: I have never fixed a computer before but my head started to tell me how and now my computer isn’t broken anymore.

A lot of the time I will go to bed and then wake up on the couch with a movie playing 3 hours later. | Ex.: I somehow watched half of Falcon And The Winter Soldier last night.

When I was younger these symptoms were much worse, and I would go to school and come home from school in seeming the same hour, but I could remember what my teachers taught me? | Ex.: There was this one day where I made an entire new friend, and she talked to me about stuff I didn’t like. I had 0 memories of her, except passing her in the hallway a few times.

I used to think this was just weird PTSD stuff but I’m starting to think it might be DID or any other kind of Dissociative Disorder. I haven’t done a crazy huge amount of research yet but a decent amount. These are just the things I can think of off the top of my head. I’ll continue doing research, but I just wanted to hear your thoughts?

So... I can't, in good-faith, say (over the internet, nonetheless,) "yes, you're definitely a system".

I will say that, to me, those do not seem like ordinary experiences a singlet would have.

That doesn't mean it's impossible; you very well could just be forgetful or have some other condition(s) going on.

But! In my honest opinion... the things you listed sound similar to when my dissociative symptoms were at their worst. They're not like that anymore, though they definitely were at one point. I think you should definitely do more research. I'll link a post @/multiplicity-positivity made:

Research by itself can be beneficial, but I think if you start seriously considering the possibility of being plural, you should reach out to a local mental health professional.

As stated in the linked post, it's best to rule out traumagenic/disordered plurality before anything else. If you do it in the reverse order, you could have the possibility of assuming dissociative features to be non-disordered plurality, and that would be a pretty messy situation to find yourself in.

That's just what I think. I hope you find what you're needing to, anon!

Good luck! /gen

🖤💜💙💚💛

[pluvicor]

Zion is by far one of my favorite OCs and the one whose story I spend the most time trying to continue despite not actively writing him that much anymore.

Some of the reason for it is how I, admittedly, became close minded and skeptical about collaborative work on this side of the RPC. But that's for another post (or none at all), I'm here to lay out the things I've established for him, either through development over Discord, ideas that came and stuck with me but were never shared, or a secret third thing, lest I forget and punch more holes into his storyline:

Personal life:

Leads a married life (not on paper yet) with Rickon. It's a very fulfilling relationship, Rickon is the exception to Zion's compromise to never resort to violence and/or dirty tricks, should anyone do anything to harm him. Given Zion's current state in life, that is not to be taken as lightly as it once could, as I'll touch on more down this post;

He's also in a relationship with Samael, though he's still conflicted about putting a name to it, given his aversion to the idea of having multiple partners. In fact, he is Zion and Rickon's boyfriend, that makes it easier alongside the fact Samael is a literal god and doesn't seem to mind how Zion navigates this new state of affairs between them, as long as it's good for everyone;

He's in therapy, has been for a while. His therapist is not human but I haven't decided what or who they are yet. Zion never felt he'd be safe with a regular professional, seeing as his problems stem from very unnatural events - he concluded he wouldn't be taken seriously at all, with less than pleasant consequences and the actual assistance he needs;

Zion has something going on with his mental health, he's on mood stabilizers and some antis;

His blood is haunted. In all seriousness, a regular doctor can no longer provide reliable diagnosis for any ailments he may have, as his body has been permanently affected by years of consecutive and direct exposition to demonic essence. Would an exorcism work? I don't know, maybe not, maybe it'd kill him. Remains to be decided;

And he's still mortal, though;

He no longer lives in an apartment with Rickon, they're sharing a house and have ??? cats;

Business:

The petting zoo that became a ranch then became an inn and is now large enough to be considered a district? Yes;

It's giving him a bit of legal trouble for that. It's expansion is partly due to his impulsivity;

It has over 100 rooms for guests and a sizable staff. He's the owner and head manager, has many sub managers for each department (cuisine, reception, maintenance, accounting, legal, etc etc);

It's no longer in the stock market and he's put an end to contracts with sponsors as means to avoid too much meddling from external parties;

🆕 It has an alchemy department! Cool, yeah?;

The lake is alive and she is moody. She has recently learned to assume a form of her own made of pure water but isn't fond of it and uses it exclusively for communication (when she wants to talk). Skip stones in her and she'll beat you up, try to go for a dive and she'll recede enough so you hit the bottom instead. She didn't quite like Zion at first, he doesn't know why, but now they're on friendly terms;

The animals in its rehabilitation center are no longer exclusively earthlings or from his universe. Guests have started to leave them there for care;

Same with his plants (garden and greenhouse);

Alair, the concierge, is no longer the only Boto working there. Hide your wives when visiting;

It has a growing system for people who want help for any activity, a "help wanted" board that he totally did not take inspiration from Stardew Valley, and if you imply as much he will laugh and deny despite everything. It's loosely supervised by a moderation team just to make sure nothing against the place's rules is posted;

It doesn't run exclusively on regular currency, any item can be evaluated at the exchange office to have its value assessed;

I'll add more as I remember it.

[giantchasm]

milgram jumpscare :0 i'd love to hear your voting takes for each of the prisoners

As a note, I'm not in on the Deeplore, I'm just a casual fan who was showed the PVs by a friend and given the basic rundown, but:

Haruka: Don't forgive. I actively dislike this guy. Maybe I'm just a bitch or whatever but I look at his story and my only reaction is "I'm also autistic and also have mommy issues and you don't see me killing both animals and people. Seems like a skill issue."

Yuno: Forgive. This one isn't even a question. Girl could literally be getting repeatedly pregnant solely to have abortions and I'd still be like "You go, girl!" It's funny that she seems to think people are only forgiving her/voting her innocent because they perceive her as some naive little girl. Like... no. I'd vote this way for anyone and everyone in this situation.

Fuuta: Controversial, maybe, but forgive. While he definitely got caught up in a toxic cycle, it's pretty clear he has intense regret over what he did. And also like... I think the behavior he exhibits is something everyone on the internet falls into a little bit and needs to try and unlearn. Not going to throw stones in glass houses.

Muu: Trying to decide how I feel. Definitely one of my favorites of the group, but as for the verdict...? Maybe don't forgive, but with sympathy for her? I dunno. She's clearly a very complicated person. I'm easily won over by #girlboss #buggirl swag, though. I watched Mean Girls on a plane recently and learned afterwards there's a theory that Janice used to be a popular girl before becoming an outcast and I think it's hilarious that that's potentially exactly what happened to Mu. Except if, like, attempting to sabotage Regina's life via new student, Janice snapped and gored her with a boxcutter.

Shidou: If I'm being real it's still borderline impossible to tell what this dude even did with how vague and symbolism-based his PVs is. Like he definitely harvested organs or something but as for the actual details I've no damn idea. Either way I'm voting forgive, though, because he actively doesn't want us to and I think doing the opposite of what he wants is funny.

Mahiru: Forgive. She clearly wasn't the healthiest partner but seemingly the relationship she was in was unhealthy on both sides. She doesn't deserve to be called a murderer over whatever weird toxic codependent thing they had going on.

Kazui: Forgive. As far as I can tell, either he asked for a divorce or is gay, neither of which is a crime. I understand why he feels bad about it, but he barely even did anything.

Amane: Forgive. Self explanatory. Literal child in a cult. I get why people voted her guilty in round one to try and teach her a lesson about the toxic mindset she had drilled into her, but it clearly didn't work. Leave fixing that shit to the therapists and not to the prison system.

Mikoto: Don't forgive for being a Tumblr Sexyman. Another one whose deal I'm not sure I fully understand. I mean, clearly he has DID, but I also can't tell if it's the host or the alter who even committed the murder, nor whether the alter (if he did it) did it for a good reason or not. For now I'll say tentatively don't forgive, but if it comes out whoever he killed was like. A threat to Mikoto, then John was just kind of doing his job as a protector. But like I mentioned: I don't even know if he's the one who did it, so who friggin' knows. Not me, that's for sure.

Kotoko: Don't forgive. Killing predatory evil men or whatever was cool and based, but she very much crossed a line by beating the shit out of the other prisoners. Approving of her prior actions gave her a twisted god complex and the impression that it's morally correct for her to serve as judge, jury and executioner, which just isn't true. Vigilante justice is a dangerous road to travel down.