#and I’ve been struggling the past two months really badly with coping

[just-rogi]

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[callsign-144p]

hey so this thread is lowkey really ableist towards ACTUAL disabled people, i don’t really give a fuck about any of the birdie drama because i have friends outside the internet- but i do care about other disabled people being treated with the respect we deserve.

i’d like to note that i am writing this thread as a disabled person, i’m going to go into quick detail about two of my disabilities in order to demonstrate my perspective on this thread. (skip to the title if you dont wanna read)

i am diagnosed with level 2, bordering on 3 autism which overlaps to my (also diagnosed) adhd. this means that i require ‘very substantial support’ but can communicate clearly. because of my autism i often struggle with social activity, complex systems, having a horrible memory, being easily distracted and forgetful aswell as having pretty severe anxiety around changes in structure. i cannot drive on my own due to my autism and will likely not be able to live on my own anytime soon.

i have chronic back pain, at the moment my doctors aren’t sure exactly what to label it- but at one point in my life, my spine was pretty badly injured from a fall or slip or something of the like which twisted it funny. but because i didn’t want to go to a hospital, it was left untreated and healed incorrectly. i now deal with really bad back pain everyday, it’s gotten better in the past few months due to a variety of reasons but i’ll likely have to deal with it for a couple more years (if not forever lmao.) because of this, i can’t do heavy physical activity without experiencing pain to the point of throwing up or passing out.

WITH THAT BEING SAID: let’s get into this thread because i have a lot to say.

the reckoning

“(I'm gonna get personal here but I should mention I have yet to be diagnosed with BPD or autism, I've only been diagnosed with ADHD, I fit the criteria for BPD and I've been theorizing me having autism for years but I'm waiting to be diagnosed by a professional, so take what I say next with a grain of salt!!)”

alright, so here’s the deal— i was somebody who had the privilege to be diagnosed when i was a minor, but beforehand i was only ‘speculated’ to have bpd. i understand how difficult it is to receive a diagnosis that you know you have and how frustrating it can be… HOWEVER, that doesn’t mean you openly have the right to speak on behalf of people who have bpd if you cannot confirm you have bpd. i mainly bring this up because this person constantly says jack is their ‘favorite person’ when- no. that’s not how that works. this is an extremely parasocial bond that has no actual connection or bond. jack doesn’t know or care about this person.

“Having BPD is a HUGE thing that's taken into consideration when your being hired, and from stories I've heard from ppl who have BPD... it's hard to get hired because most workplaces have biases against people with it and usually don't hire them due to it being on their resume”

hey so this is straight bullshit!

a resume isn’t a psyche report, it’s something YOU MAKE that you show to an employer that shows why you would make a good employee. i’ve reviewed a couple resumes for my coworkers in the past, and i have never ever seen anybody put their mental diagnosis on there. employers are not legally entitled to your list of diagnoses, if you’re denied for putting them on your resume then it’s probably because an employer isn’t going to want to waste company resources on somebody who thinks a PERSONALITY DISORDER is an appropriate reason as to why they should hire you. it’s not about the disorder, it’s about the fact you think it’s important enough to insist it’s a reason you should be hired.

and look, i understand special needs. i have level 2 autism, chronic debilitating pain and a shit ton of other things that make it hard for me to find a job that i can comfortably work at…. but here’s the thing; you adapt. you learn to cope with your problems and realize the world can’t always cater to your problems.

workplaces aren’t meant to be a place where you feel comfortable and happy 24/7, at the end of the day you’re there to serve a purpose, and a company isn’t going to want to cater to you for problems you should be managing on your own.

funnily enough, this shows how young and uneducated this person is. they don’t have any clue what a resume is, so haven’t been out in the real world seemingly at all.

“Not to mention the fact that he has autism (the evil kind/j) and that makes it harder for him to get a job that suits... I've heard horror stories from autistic ppl who've had jobs and ended up being fired because they weren't able to keep up on the job or ended up doing the wrong thing because they misunderstood the instructions and weren't instructed properly (not to mention the fact that there's barely any safety net for autistic ppl who don't have a job because it's not "that bad" in neurotypical's eyes)”

Congratulations, you’re learning how the world works. When i was 15 i worked at a kfc and constantly fucked up shit, like.. CONSTANTLY. you know what you do in that situation? you don’t make excuses, you don’t whine and cry that you’re XYZ and that it’s everyone elses fault. you learn, you accept that you made a mistake and you ask for help. even most shithole places are more than happy to instruct you if you explain the problem you’re having. i used to have such bad anxiety at that job, but the more i listened and asked questions, the more i got a stronger grasp of what they wanted me to do. it’s called learning.

yeah, if you never learn to DO YOUR JOB then you’re gonna get fired. again, you’re not there for yourself, you’re there to serve the company and if you’re costing the company money— congrats, you’re gonna be unemployed.

“Jack is ALSO physically disabled (having a heart condition called POTS which drains him when doing any physical activity) and that makes it even HARDER to get a job because there are more jobs that require constant physical activity than there should be and the ones that don't require much physical activity require MANY YEARS of studying and multiple degrees in education, which if you didn't watch his comeback video, he TRIED to get his GED but failed because the GED prep program he was going to refused to accommodate to his IEP needs (as someone on a 504 plan, this sort of mistreatment and harassment is very real and very hindering. I've had so many teachers refuse to accommodate to my 504 plan because they think I'm getting a "leg up" above everyone else because they think I'm being lazy)”

again, this shows that the kid writing this post has never been into the real world.. for one, pots isn’t a heart condition LMAO. it takes a simple google search to find out its a cardiovascular disorder and although it does effect your heart- it ain’t a heart disease. i’m gonna be pretty bold here but i genuinely think this kids only source is from jacks mouth, unsurprisingly, having your only source be a person who is not reliable in these types of scenarios is a fucking stupid idea. please do your research when discussing disabilities.

second of all… no? i mean, sure. things like fast food are quite physical, i’ve worked in 3 different fast food chains all my life and it IS physically demanding…. but fast food is not the only option when it comes to jobs you don’t need years of degrees for. off the top of my head, a data entry worker makes around 53k annually and they have the opportunity to work from home alot of the time BECAUSE YOU ARE SITTING DOWN THE ENTIRE JOB and most of the time it requires literally no experience beyond a basic understanding of computing.

any job in the computer field (something jack could actually be quite good at) rarely has you get off your ass and move. and you do not need degrees for half of these jobs, if you take the time to learn a couple of the basic softwares over a few months, maybe even taking an online course- then you can VERY WELL qualify for 70% of data entry jobs available.

to conclude this nonsense: disabled people are not incompetent toddlers who are incapable of working and should be treated to the same respect that able bodied people are. the main reason i dislike this thread so much is because it paints disabled people as children, you can see this person using jacks disabilities in order to excuse alleged grooming allegations WHICH IS EXTREMELY DANGEROUS. i’m not saying jack is a groomer, i’ve looked into this situation quite a bit and it looks incredibly dodgy on his end but there is a discussion to be had on whether or not it’s grooming. what i AM SAYING is that regardless of condition, jack is an adult man and needs to behave like an adult man. using his disabilities such as bpd, psychosis, etc, to proclaim it was impossible to know right from wrong is not only objectively false, but a dangerous narrative to push.

we are capable of self reflection, we are capable of being bad people and being able to learn from it. our disabilities do not excuse or justify our actions. at the end of the day, a disabled adult needs to behave like an adult should. we aren’t children who don’t know any better.

please don’t send hate to this kid btw, i genuinely don’t think they had bad intentions. i just think that they’re heavily misinformed and haven’t done any research, i’m only using their word as an example for what is being said by certain groups of people. i think this kid could learn and grow, but first they need to learn.

goodnight folks.

I really don't like people's double standards sometimes and I'm not just talking about how stans treat Stolas and Stella, this ain't relating to that, I'm talking about the situation with Jack/Damagedcoda6669 Warning for Suicide mention, ableism, COCSA, SA and Child grooming

A while ago, Jack made a come-back video and he mentions that Kittydog had groomed him as well as commited COCSA (Child On Child Sexual Assault) towards him and barely there were any people calling Zola out and Kittydog makes a youtube vid and twitter post apologizing for what they had done to it, and seemingly everyone WELCOMES Kittydog back with open arms and acts like nothing had ever happened.

But when it was revealed that Jack committed cocsa when he was 16 and the minor was 13, suddenly Jack/Damagedcoda6669 (aka Birdie/Sansbirdie in case ya'll ain't in the loop) is a irredeemable monster all because he had that "He was birdie" label on him and all because Jack rightfully stolen his cat back from Synni.

And before you all accuse me of downplaying the criticism that Jack is rightfully receiving (which, I'm not downplaying it, you can criticize Jack if you want as long as you ain't being clowns or bringing up stuff that Jack had already apologize for just as the borderline 13? thing) or say "But, Jack was talking to a minor under "sexual" art!!1!!!".

Lemme say that the minor in question (who is in fact a grooming victim like myself) made a post literally explaining that Jack NEVER pm'd xem as well as spoken weird to him either.

You guys claim to care for victims of grooming but you go around and talk over the minor or mock Jack instead of waiting for him to recover due to the stress that it had receive so he could hopefully make a post or vid talking about the situation.

Heck, you guys even claim Jack "suicide baited" (not using the term right btw you guys, suicide baiting means to maliciously try to get someone to off their-selves NOT faking suicide) instead of simply checking in on him when he made that post showing that you don't care for mental health either and just want to repeat history again because to your eyes "Birdie is still bad no matter what happened to it in the past".

And again, you guys are allow to criticize Jack, I also had criticized Jack in the past and even sent him an ask, explaining to him calmly and politely that "he should address the allegations but not now, he needs a break from online due to the backlash that it was receiving on twitter" and I even suggest him to stay on Bluesky since there is none of the "Let's compare a sexual assault victim (Jack) to his sexual assaulter (Synnibear03)." bs on that site, which quite frank is absolutely disgusting.... Again, nothing WRONG with criticizing Jack, and again, I do agree that Jack shouldn't of accused a (former) 13 yr old of having a grooming fetish but don't be gross and pretend that Jack isn't a victim of sexual assault, grooming, abuse and such or better yet, don't try to paint Synnibear03 as a victim of Jack, SHE is not a victim of Jack.

Just because he stolen Skqrp from Synni doesn't mean shit because Synnibear no matter how much she swears up and down that she didn't brought the cat as a gift for Jack, she still brought the cat for JACK and the only reason her name was in the papers is because Jack rightfully didn't want to write down his dead name and who can blame him?

[imagine-loki]

What bout Trust, Chapter 15

TITLE: What About Trust CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 15 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki owns a bookshop on Midgard. He had to do something there to try and avoid getting any attention. But he’s not fond of having customers, is rather grumpy and guarded. But then he meets a bright, bubbly and trusting young woman who doesn’t recognise him. To his dismay, he finds himself becoming rather fond of the mortal.  RATING: M

  So many thoughts ran through Cleo’s mind after discovering the truth about Loki.

She had spent most of the evening looking through footage of him from when he had tried to take over Earth. And she’d watched the video of him saving everyone at the park lots too. She couldn’t believe she had never recognised him in the first place. And suddenly a lot of things made a bit more sense.

Her friend, Ethan, was over and trying to console her.

She was so angry, upset, disappointed. Everything moulded into one.

‘He certainly seems like he’s not a villain anymore, but can anyone truly change quite like that?’ Ethan muttered.

‘It’s not… It’s not about what he did in the past. It’s the fact he lied to me. He didn’t tell me who he really was.’ She sighed and tried not to get choked up for the millionth time.

‘I’ve never seen you so upset before, Cleo. I know you love him, why not go speak to him and see what he has to say? Think about it, if you were in his position and did what he did… and you were wanting a new start, maybe you’d lie about your name, too?’

Cleo put her elbows on the table and her head in her hands with a sigh. She couldn’t help it, she started crying again. Her emotions were all over the place.

Ethan moved over and hugged her. ‘Hey, it’s ok. It’s going to be ok.’ He soothed her and rubbed her back softly.

-

Thor had nipped out to get some food in for himself and Loki. Well, himself mainly since Loki said he didn’t feel like eating.

‘Loki, there’s someone who was outside that wants to speak to you.’ Thor said and stepped to the side when he entered Loki’s place.

Loki frowned, it was Ethan. Loki had met him once or twice before at some of their friends’ gigs with Cleo.

‘Look, I don’t know what exactly you’ve told Cleo about yourself. How much of it has been true, what hasn’t. But right now, you need to go and speak to her. Go clear things up. She at least deserves an explanation.’ Ethan said to Loki.

‘She’s scared of me. She won’t want anything to do with me.’ Loki said sadly and turned away from him.

Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘Look, I know you’re a God and a Prince. But for the past few months, you’ve just been ordinary Luke to me. So I’m going to carry on seeing you that way. Now you get your ass over to Cleo’s and you damn well give her an explanation as to why you’ve lied to her. Or you will lose her, for good. And she is NOT scared of you, far from it. She’s pissed off and so upset, rightfully so.’ Ethan snapped at him.

Loki was irked at first, how dare a mortal tell him off like that. But when Loki turned around to glare at Ethan, his face softened. He realised he was right.

He ran a hand down his face and sighed. ‘You think talking to her will help?’

‘Well it won’t make anything worse! She deserves a proper explanation. I know she wanted to be left alone, but she’s had time now. Go and explain to her.’ Ethan said firmly and pointed at the door.

Loki narrowed his eyes at him as he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.

Ethan felt proud that he had managed to tell Loki off like that. But when Loki left, he let out a big sigh of relief. Thor chuckled at the mortal who was shaking slightly as he leaned against the back of the sofa for support.

‘Geez, that was scary.’ Ethan said as he put his hand over his chest.

‘You did well.’ Thor laughed and went over to pat him on the shoulder. ‘Sometimes that is what Loki needs. I just hope they can talk it out, I have never seen my brother so broken and upset before. He really loves and cares for her, he was just scared she would turn him away for who he was. For what he did.’

Ethan nodded. ‘I understand. But Cleo is the last person on Earth to judge someone in that way. Hell, I remember when the New York incident happened, one of our friends was mouthing off about what an asshole Loki was. Cleo piped up that there is always two sides to a story, and everyone deserves a second chance. That the Avengers aren’t all that good either… No offence.’

Thor smiled softly. ‘None taken. I know what she means, we all have our darker sides. I certainly hope she still thinks the same way.’

-

Loki teleported instantly to Cleo’s home, he was about just walk inside but thought better of it. He knocked on the door cautiously, his heart was hammering against his chest as he waited. But he was relieved when she finally answered.

But his heart shattered into millions of pieces when he saw her. The usual sparkle and brightness was gone from her eyes, in just five hours he had managed to tear her up so badly. He had never felt so guilty and broken in his entire life.

‘Cleo… I’m so, so sorry.’ He began, a tear fell down his face as he was unable to stop himself. ‘Please, can I come in and talk?’ He begged, she could hear the desperation in his voice.

Cleo closed her eyes for a moment, to try and stop herself from crying. She nodded and stepped to the side, letting him in. Saying nothing yet.

Loki walked into her home and he went to the living room. He wasn’t sure whether to sit down or stay standing, but he opted to stand. As Cleo stayed standing with her arms around herself.

He took in a deep breath. ‘I know that what I did in New York and Germany was awful, I regret it every single day. It’s not something I am proud of, at all. But I would never hurt you, I would never’

‘Luke… I mean, Loki… I… I know you wouldn’t hurt me. It’s not what you did before that’s upsetting me. Or who you really are. It’s that you lied to me. You didn’t tell me the truth.’

‘I… I couldn’t. When I first met you, I went to my usual lie that my name is Luke. I’ve used that for a long time, since I decided to start a life here. I hoped for a quiet life, where I could just be in peace, without any hassle from SHIELD or people who knew what I did and wanted me dead. But then, I started to fall in love with you. I have never felt the way I do about you before, Cleo.’ Loki sat down now and clasped his hands together on front of him, trying to keep it together.

Cleo sat down too on the opposite sofa.

‘I wanted to tell you… I so badly wanted to. But every time I bottled it. I’m a coward, and I hate myself for it. I was scared and worried that I would ruin what we had… But I knew I had to tell you, I was going to, but then the tree fell and’

‘How am I supposed to believe you now? I want to, Loki, I really do. But I’m struggling. Everything I thought I knew about you, is a lie.’ Cleo interrupted.

‘No, no... Everything I’ve told you about myself, is true. Just minus where I come from and my name.’

‘And that Thor is your brother!’ Cleo yelled at him. ‘That you’re a God. A Prince. And your parents?’

‘I said my brother was an idiot and annoying, that’s not a lie. And my parents are deceased, and I was adopted. It’s just a little bit more complicated than I told you.’

Cleo shook her head and tears started running down her face again. ‘I just wish you’d told me sooner. What hurts the most, is that you felt you couldn’t tell me the truth sooner. After our first date, or even after we first slept together would’ve been better. But you didn’t, for so long.’

‘I know, and I was a fool. I am a fool. But I was scared, Cleo. So scared of losing you, the only person in my life that has ever mattered to me so much. I love you, Cleo. So, so much. I didn’t want to lose… I don’t want to lose you.’ Loki cried.

‘I don’t want that either… And I do love you, too. But I just, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me sooner. I don’t know what to do, Loki. I do understand why you didn’t want me to know initially, but keeping it for so long is what is hurting me the most.’

Loki momentarily put his head in his hands before looking back up at her. ‘The last thing I wanted to do was to hurt you, darling. Please believe me. I was scared and selfish, I can’t take that back. As much as I want to. I’ve hurt you, I know. I want to make it right, to earn your love again.’

‘What about trust, Loki?’

He felt his stomach dropping.

‘Please, Cleo. Give me one more chance, I promise you there will be no more lies. Ever. And you can trust me, always.’ He pleaded.

‘I… I don’t know if I can. I do love you, I do. But I, I don’t know if I can trust you again. Love is nothing without it. And I feel like I trusted you completely, with anything and everything.’

‘Don’t say that, Cleo. Please, I’m begging you to just let me try again. Let me work on gaining your trust again. Please.’ Loki actually got onto his knees on front of her and begged her with his hands clasped on front of him.

Cleo’s eyes widened at the sight of him doing so. She saw what he did years ago in Germany… Had everyone kneel for him. She knew that kneeling for a human was not something he would do lightly.

But it still didn’t make it any easier.

‘I… I’m going to need time, Loki. Please.’ She whispered, wiping her eyes and looking to the side.

Loki nodded and slowly got up to his feet. ‘I understand. Take as much time as you need… But I do truly love you, Cleo. You’re my world.’

Cleo looked down at her hands in her lap, unable to stop crying as Loki reluctantly left her home.

When Loki left, he went down the nearest alleyway and he screamed, cried, hit the wall. He couldn’t believe what he did to her. To his Cleo.

He wished he could turn back time and start over, to tell her the truth from the start.

He couldn’t cope with the thought of not having her in his life.  

[andromedasstarship]

in the stars - chapter 3

photo credit - unknown 

pairing - aaron hotchner x reader

warnings - canon-typical criminal minds violence, stalking, depictions of murder/violence, angst, verbal fighting, drinking, unhealthy coping mechanisms, smoking (cigarettes) 

summary -  “If you’re upset over how I ended our relationship, that is completely separate from the dealings of the case and I expect you to be able to conduct yourself appropriately.” Aaron said and you thought this was what ‘seeing red’ meant

a/n - hi besties! im so sorry this update took so long! i really wanted to make it perfect and was struggling with putting this together. to make it up this chapter is a whopping 5.9k words so uh enjoy lol!

masterlist // series masterlist // read it on ao3

chapter 2 // chapter 4

-----

You had to physically stop yourself- gripping the desk chair beside you so hard your knuckles turned white- from following Aaron out the office door and demanding he make sense of the whole good cop- ha!- bad cop show he’d been putting on since the two of you had been horribly reunited outside of the police station. 

This had been the second instance of him implying or accusing you of somehow worsening the case. And he hadn’t even been in LA for over 24hrs. It wasn’t fair, you thought, angrily grumbling to yourself about all the different ways you’d love to give him a piece of your mind. If he’d been a regular man, that you’d never met before, you probably wouldn’t consider his current behavior to be so- out of pocket? disgraceful? insulting?- offensive. You knew he had a reputation for being...,a hardass on the job, but that didn’t mean he had to go overboard in his treatment towards you. Maybe he wasn’t going overboard, maybe this was just how he treated every- you weren’t sure exactly how to define yourself in the case- witness? Maybe this is just what his team expected in terms of his behavior towards people he didn’t know.

But he did know you, he knew you quite well. He knew you well enough to know you’d never purposely attempt to slow the case down. Even without his fancy profiler skills, you were certain Aaron Hotchner knew every little thing about you. Or at least he used to. 

And while Aaron may know everything there was to know about you, you were beginning to doubt if you actually knew anything about him. As expected, over the past two months the case had been taking an extreme toll on you; constantly looking over your shoulder and worrying that someone was lurking behind every corner. What made it worse, was that it was yet another situation that required you to keep a secret. You ‘had’ the officers at the station and your agent, but besides them you were dealing with this completely on your own. Making the situation about yourself felt wrong, but you couldn’t even begin to explain how hurt you felt at Aaron's accusations that you were somehow more part of the problem than you were a victim. Yes, you hadn’t gone up to him and explicitly told him how badly you were hurting, but it’s not like it took a genius- or a profiler- to reach that conclusion themselves. 

It hurt, to have someone whose validation you had once- still did- crave so much, suddenly act as if you were a ‘bad guy’. Maybe you were being dramatic, you thought. Maybe you were overreacting and reading far too deep into such short interactions. On the other hand, you reasoned that it was perfectly acceptable to have feelings. Before you could delve deeper into that mental tirade, a sharp knock on the doorframe grabbed your attention. Looking up, you saw JJ leaning halfway into the room. 

“Sorry,” you said, awkwardly letting go of the chair, “I uh, got caught up with uh, just you know, thoughts about the case!” Smooth. You tried to put a cheery tone in your voice. You tried to subtly study her reaction as you walked over to her and it was clear she wasn’t exactly buying into your sudden happy attitude. She didn’t press you though, something you were grateful for. Instead she just moved out of the doorframe, letting you join her in the hallway. 

“The rest of the team has split up already, would you like to start in the basement?” JJ asked. You had only spoken to her a couple times, briefly at that, but you already found great comfort in her presence; you could see why she held the position, her ability to comfort and connect with others was unbeatable. Definitely need to send JJ a case of wine as a gift. 

You nodded dumbly, joining her in the hallway and taking her down towards your basement. Internally, you guessed the little ‘tour’ would only take an hour tops, considering all the little spiels you’d have to give about each room. 

You felt a bit like when you went through airport security or when a police car was on a road you were driving on. That sinking feeling that somehow you were going to get in trouble even though you knew you didn’t have anything to hide. Damn Aaron. His apparent lowly opinion of you was definitely messing with your head. Oh well. 

As you lead JJ towards the basement, you could vaguely hear the other agents throughout the house. A door opening here or the sound of papers rustling over there. You hadn’t exactly asked how they would be able to tell if something was missing or out of place. But honestly? You didn’t really care what the team did in your house, as long as they figured out how the unsub had gotten in there. 

You’d already come to terms with the fact that the unsub had managed to steal your clothes and jewelry, but you just couldn’t shake the fact that he had gotten into your house. Part of you secretly wished he had pick-pocketed you on a busy street or was stealing stuff off a film set instead. It would’ve been equally as bad and creepy and horrifying, but it would’ve been worth still feeling safe in your own house. 

Smacking the lightswitch on the wall behind you, the entire basement became illuminated. “So,” you started, really drawing out the word, “this is the basement. It’s technically one big open floor, but well,” you gestured lazily with your hand, “you can see it’s kinda still split up. There’s a movie room behind those doors right there.” 

JJ stepped ahead of you, walking towards the high windows in the basement. You watched as she ran her fingers along the window edges, carefully going over each one. “Do these open?” She asked, turning back to look at you. 

You quickly shook your head. “They’re mostly just for, like, decoration purposes.” You responded, giving a slight shrug. “I um, I’m not down here much unless I’m having people over. And those stairs we came down are the only way to get in here.” You added, thinking that’d probably be helpful. 

JJ gave you that nice smile again and started towards the movie room. “I’m just gonna look in here real quick and then we can go back upstairs, okay?” 

You stood awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs, rolling back and forth from your heels to your tippy toes, awkwardly playing with your hands in front of yourself. You knew her movie room scan wouldn’t take wrong, there were zero windows in there and no other point of entry besides the door she had walked through. 

Just as you expected, JJ came back out no longer than five minutes later. Once she got closer to you, you turned slowly on your heel and started back up the stairs. “We can start upstairs and then meet the rest of your team on the main level?” You offered.

“Lead the way.” 

“There’s um, two ways to get upstairs. There’s that main staircase you saw in the foyer and also there’s a ‘servants stair’ in the back,” you said, making air quotes with your fingers at the ‘servants stair’ part, “I have people that work in the house sometimes, but it’s not an actual designated staircase for anyone.” You explained, unsure of why you were feeling so anxious. 

“Why don’t we go up using the second set of stairs? Since I’ve already seen the main set.” JJ said. 

You nodded dumbly again, and walked in the direction of the back stairs. Once upstairs, you gave the same room spiel to JJ about six times. This is ‘x’ room, yep those windows can open, nope no one regularly comes into this room, yes the balcony doors do lock from the inside. 

Just as you thought earlier, the little tour took just a couple minutes under an hour. You and JJ were standing in your kitchen, both of you leaning against opposite countertops. According to JJ the whole team had agreed to meet up in your kitchen once they were done with their scans, so it seemed that you two were the first to finish. Also expected. 

You were lucky you hadn’t run into Aaron the entire time. At times you could vaguely hear his voice coming from another room and all that did was pull on your heartstrings and remind you of when the two of you were together. Aside from the sadness factor, you still weren’t sure you could trust yourself to not yell at him as soon as you saw him again. 

“That’s funny.” JJ said amusedly-more to herself than to you-, pulling you out of your thoughts. 

“What is?” You asked. She had moved from her spot by the countertops, to standing in front of your liquor wall, staring up at a bottle you couldn’t quite recognize from your position. 

“Oh, just Agent Hotchner? Out there,” she said, gesturing broadly out to where the rest of the team might be, “he loves this brand of scotch. We joke sometimes that he’d pick it over us if he was given the choice. But apparently it’s super difficult to get. He started getting lucky a few years ago and found a way to buy it, but recently I guess that luck ran out and he hasn’t been able to find it anymore.” 

Your eyes went wide at that. Yes. That scotch was super difficult to get and it was ridiculously expensive. And yes, Aaron loved the stuff. The two of you used to constantly argue over money. He hated that you were always the one paying for everything and had created a ‘rule’ that you weren’t allowed to buy him any gifts. Of course, you managed to find a way around that rule and found that this specific scotch was his gift achilles heel. So, you used to send him a steady supply while also keeping a bottle at your place for the rare occasions he was over. 

“Oh?” You squeaked. 

“Yeah, it’s super rare or something. They only make so many batches a year don’t they?” JJ asked, turning back to look at you. 

You quickly pulled your emotions in when she turned towards you, just giving her your third dumb nod of the day. “Yep, super hard to get. Super super hard. I uh, got as a gift once, I don’t even like the stuff.” 

“You should tell Hotch. I bet he’d pay pretty well for it.” She said with a laugh, shaking her head. Definitely will not be doing that. 

----

Upstairs, Rossi and Hotch were looking through your upstairs office. While your downstairs office was more work based- you stored scripts and had meetings down there, etc.-, your upstairs office was used for your more ‘personal’ work tasks. 

“If the unsub is taking her clothes, we might have better success scoping out her closet. See the potential entry and exit points from her room that the unsub must be taking.” Rossi proposed. 

Hotch nodded at that, putting down the stack of fan mail he’d been flipping through, trying to find any repeats or ‘creepy’ letters. He made a mental note to have Reid come and read through the piles of other mail you had neatly stacked around the room.

Your attention to fanmail had been one of the things that had quickened the process of him falling in love with you. He had had his doubts in the beginning of you relationship- he had stereotyped you for sure-, your age and status giving him somewhat valid concerns that you’d be insanely disconnected from the normal world. You’d proved him wrong in many ways since the beginning, but one of those ways had been the many days you’d call him from this room, reading through every single letter you were sent and always making sure to send a small note back. 

“Good idea, let’s go.” Hotch said. He walked out of office and didn’t think twice, his body automatically walking towards the room a few doors down from your bedroom. You didn’t keep your closet in your bedroom, you had actually put a little couch and sitting room in your bedroom closet space. Instead you’d taken an entire guest room and converted it into a full dressing room/closet that was a better fit for your needs. 

As Hotch went straight into the room, he missed the narrow look Rossi was giving him from the doorframe. It only took a couple minutes, but eventually Hotch looked up, cocking an eyebrow at Rossi. “Are you going to come in?” He questioned. 

“You knew her closet wasn’t in her room.” Rossi noted, amusement clear in his voice. 

Hotch’s face paled, before he steeled his emotions back over. “I saw the clothes while walking past earlier and made the deduction.” 

“She’s pretty, isn’t she Aaron?” Rossi teased, clearly finding a lot of enjoyment in this conversation. 

“Dave,” Hotch groaned, running a hand over his face, “just, not now okay?” He asked, the desperation clear in his voice. 

Rossi certainly didn’t have the entire story figured out, but he wasn’t dumb either, he could piece things together. As much as he’d love to keep busting Hotch over this, there was something about how gentle he had been with you in the conference room and his current clear discomfort that persuaded Rossi otherwise. Rossi grinned at Hotch and raised his hands in mock surrender. 

“So, we know the unsub doesn’t have to necessarily be quiet, her room is at least what, 3-”

“Four and across the hall.” Hotch huffed out, not looking up to meet Rossi’s eyes.

“Four and across the hall away. So he doesn’t need to sneak past her if he’s coming in at night...” 

----

Back in the kitchen, you turned your head at the sound of the back patio doors opening, showing Morgan and Spencer. Guess they’d be the second pair done with their house tour. 

Just as you were about to open your mouth and offer the two of them something to drink, you noticed the rather grim expressions on both their faces. Upon better inspection, you saw Spencer was tightly gripping on to a dirty journal. 

“What’s that?” You asked curiously, trying to get a better look at it. 

“I found this uh, journal out by the edge of your property line. I think it may belong to the unsub.” Reid responded, giving you a tight lipped look. 

It was terribly cliche, but you couldn’t help but gasp at that. Your eyes going wide and your mouth hanging open. 

“I flipped through it, there’s nothing that clearly identifies him, but it seems like he was keeping track of your comings and goings. As well as keeping a list of the things he took from your house, we can cross check that list with-” 

“Can I look at it?” You interjected, a morbid curiosity consuming your mind. 

Reid gave an unsure glance at the two other agents in the room. “I think it’d be better for the rest of the team and I to look through the journal first, and make sure there’s nothing uh...upsetting in it.” 

----

With the new revelations that the unsub had managed to break into your home multiple times, the team decided it would be best for at least one of them to be with you at the house at all times; during the day they would assign a plainclothes officer to discreetly sit watch. It was comical, the way they decided on the watch and then promptly assigned Aaron the first shift of the night. 

You wondered why he agreed to it, knowing he could’ve easily pulled a seniority boss card and taken himself out of any and all future watch shifts as well. He probably didn’t want you to get closer with any of his agents, should you accidentally say something a bit too personal. He also probably assumed that with the late hour of the night, you’d immediately be going to bed or at least locking yourself away in your room for the rest of the night. 

The team had stayed hours after their first walkthroughs of the house, the new list and notes from the unsub giving you all a better idea of what to look for. You had gone through the list of clothes and jewelry in front of the team, giving them a base description of what you assumed the unsub had meant, whether or not you had considered it missing and where you thought you’d last seen it in the house.

Unfortunately, whatever Aaron had been banking on wouldn’t be happening. You hadn’t been able to shake the sinking feeling that your house was no longer a home anymore. It was painfully cheesy, but you knew that trying to sleep would be futile. Nor did you really feel like being ‘alone’ in your room. That didn’t mean you were going to strike up a conversation with Aaron or ask him to play a board game or something, but you wouldn’t be shutting away from the rest of the night. 

After the team left, you had gone upstairs and changed into a more comfortable outfit for the evening; just your trusty sleep shorts and an oversized t-shirt. You were now walking back down the stairs and towards your kitchen; you grasped a lighter and your emergency cigarette pack in one hand. As you made your way into the kitchen, you could feel Aarons eyes on you from wherever he was seated in the living room. You pointedly ignored him, instead setting the pack and lighter down, freeing your hands so you could mix yourself your favorite drink. 

Once your drink was prepped, you balanced all your things in your hands and made your way back through the living room and out the grand French doors that lead to your backyard. You walked over to one of your lounge chairs that overlooked the pool and had a beautiful view of the sky and bright lights of the city. You turned on one of your favorite playlists and made yourself comfy in the chair, lighting up one of the cigarettes. 

With the first inhale, you felt your body relax. It was a horrible habit- you knew that-, but if there was ever a time to stress smoke, you reasoned it was probably now. Over the sound of your music, you faintly heard one of the doors open again, but you didn’t bother turning around. 

“I thought you quit.” Aaron said, quite literally coming out of the shadows. Even though you didn’t turn to look at him, you could perfectly imagine him in your mind; probably leaning up against one of the legs of the cabana, arms tightly crossed and a deep scowl on his face. 

“I did.” You replied plainly, blowing a steady stream of smoke out of your mouth. Using your free hand you picked your glass back off the chair side table, twirling it slowly. As you took a long sip, you could hear Aaron walk closer, not quite coming into view yet. 

“Drinking and abusing substances in response to a traumatic situation is widely frowned upon. 

“Thank you Surgeon General,” you said, rolling your eyes before adding, “no offense Agent, but right now, I don’t really think it matters.” You didn’t even bother attempting to argue that you were on your first drink and first smoke. 

“It matters, when my team will be counting on you tomorrow. The expectation is that you’ll be a useful and legitimate resource.” Aaron said, voice tight. 

“Do you really think I’m dumb enough to actually believe, that you believe that a single drink is going to render me useless?” You asked, finally turning your head so you could give him a pointed look. When he didn’t answer you rolled your eyes again, turning back away from him. “It doesn’t matter, Agent, I’m unavailable to be a resource tomorrow.” 

“What do you mean, unavailable?” Aaron asked. He finally walked into view, sitting down on the chair next to you. He positioned his legs over the edge facing you, resting his elbows off his knees. 

“What do you mean unavailable?” You said mockingly- the alcohol in your system and stress of the day emboldening your behavior. You paused for a moment to take another drag from your cigarette; Aaron didn’t miss the way you turned your head further from him during your exhale. “You have your job Agent, I have mine.” 

“There is a dangerous free man out there with a special interest in you. He’s not only managed to break into your house but is also murdering surrogate women in place of you,” he said, voice growing louder as he went, “and you think you should go to a film set? How immature and irresponsible are-” 

“Stop doing that!” You cut him off, snapping your head to face him. For a brief moment, you were taken aback by how close he’d been sitting. “Stop painting me to be some dumb self centered girl. This is the fourth time today.” You said, staring him hard in the face, neither of your breaking eye contact. He always looked so good with a beard- stop that. 

“I’m trying to do my job and protect you,” he paused, eyes scanning your face, “I couldn’t handle anything happening to you.” In that moment, his voice was so painfully honest and it almost made you want to agree to do whatever dumb rules he had for you. 

Almost.

Instead, you swung your legs to the side of the chair opposite to him, standing up in a quick blur of motion. “Stop doing that too!” You exclaimed, running your free hand over your face. You took a long drag from your cigarette, placing one hand on your hip. Aaron was giving you a genuinely confused look and you just wanted to wipe it off in one big swipe. “Stop doing some weird little bait and switch between acting like I’m a diva and then trying to end it with some vaguely little sweet comment.” 

“You actually think I don’t care about your safety?” Aaron asked, the faintest bit of hurt in his voice. He stood up as well before continuing. “You think this isn’t a difficult case for me?” 

“You do not get to do that!” You said angrily, pointing a free finger out at him. “You are not allowed to try and make yourself a victim in this story while you simultaneously make me part of the problem. How the hell can you see yourself as even remotely ‘good’ when you left the way you did?” There it was. Maybe it was immature, dragging the breakup into the argument, but the days’ tension- not to mention the months of bottled up emotions- was finally snapping inside of you. 

“If you’re upset over how I ended our relationship, that is completely separate from the dealings of the case and I expect you to be able to conduct yourself appropriately.” Aaron said and you thought that this must be what ‘seeing red’ meant. 

“Do you treat all your witnesses like this?” You were full on yelling now, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. “Is this your version of appropriate conduct, Agent Hotchner? You’ve proven to be nothing but incompetent! You can’t even see two inches past your own fucking face to consider this from my perspective!” 

Your words had their intended effect. Aaron’s face fell for the briefs of moments before years of bottling his own emotions took back over. You had to give him some credit for keeping it, outwardly, more together than you were. “I won't fight with you over something as trivial as this. You’ll report to the station in the morning with the rest of the team.” He ordered, voice dangerously low. 

“I have to work!” You exclaimed, putting heavy emphasis on each word. 

“Going to work isn’t safe. Do you understand that? Your stalker is well acquainted with your schedule, you need to step away from what’s expected of you. It’s dangerous-”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, shaking your head, “are you even listening to yourself? Your job is dangerous every single day, hell you didn’t even step away when the job was dangerous specifically to you! How am I supposed to take advice you can’t even follow?” At the end of your sentence, you angrily stubbed out your cigarette in the ashtray, leaving the butt in the tray. 

“This isn’t about me.” Aaron snapped, voice loudest it’d been all night. “I’m trying to keep you safe. What part of that don’t you understand?” He asked, giving you a tough look. You found yourself at a loss for words and he took your silence as an opening to continue. “I can’t stand to see you get hurt.”

“Are you finally understanding how exhausting it was to love you!” You blurted out, the words catching even you by surprise. You forcibly blinked back the tears forming your eyes. “That this, is how I felt each time you were called away on a case?” 

Aaron was equally as shocked, his mouth opening in vain a few times as he searched for the proper response. “I made sure you were properly aware of the risks and demands of my job before we started our relationship.” Bad answer.

“And I never complained,” you replied, a defeated tone creeping into your voice, “not once, did I?”

“If you’re going to accuse me of hypocrisy, you should recognize it in yourself. You were equally if not more in demand than I was.” 

“I thought you liked that I was so ‘in demand’!” You said, the frustration growing again. “What was it you always said? You liked not having to worry about me alone at home, waiting up for you.” 

“You’re coming to the station tomorrow Y/N. Final order.” Aaron repeated, completely ignoring your last statement. 

“You know what,” you said, the fight in your voice gone, “I don’t have to put up with this and your lame attempts at trying to be a good guy. I’m not having this conversation anymore.” You quickly leaned over to swipe your cigarette pack and glass of the little table. 

“Are you actually going to run away from this?” He asked, almost as if he was trying to bait you back into the argument.

You scoffed loudly, staring him dead in the eyes. “You did.” 

You angrily walked around him, nearly stomping the entire way to the door. As you were halfway into the house you paused for a moment, not even slightly turning your head back towards him. “Blankets are still in the same spot in the living room.” You said, slamming the door behind you as soon the sentence left your lips. 

-----

The next morning, promptly at 8am, an email from your agent was sent to Aaron. It was incredibly petty and inherently personal, but to an outsider it was nothing out of the ordinary for someone of your status. Aaron was near furious, as expected, but even in his stubbornness he could see you had the high ground. Long story short, the email plainly stated vaguely threatened that if your work schedule were to become an issue for the team, you could easily send a ‘spokesperson’ from your team to deal with any and all future communications. Y/N 2, Aaron Hotchner 0.

Back at your house, you were having a lovely morning. The victory tasted sweet in your mouth as you got yourself ready for the long day. Sometime around 4:00AM Reid had switched out with Aaron and the two of you were currently in your kitchen; Reid sitting at one of your countertop stools while you stood over the stove. After being angrily informed by Aaron that you wouldn’t be required to come into the station with Reid, you decided to make a simple breakfast for the two of you. Reid had wanted to leave sooner, but he was also under orders to not leave you alone until you were safely in your own car and on your way.

You weren’t sure how he felt, but you thought you and Reid got along quite well. He was the closest in age to you and even though he didn’t really seem to understand any of the little jokes or references you made, there was still some level of mutual understanding there. It didn’t hurt that he was quite easy on the eyes as well, of course he wasn’t Aaron by any means- stop that! 

Over breakfast, you spent the entire time answering Reid’s many questions about various actors and actresses he was a fan of. Lucky boy, you thought; as all the people he mentioned were quite nice even when the camera was off. What was it that people said about never meeting your hero? 

He graciously offered to do all the clean up, as you had cooked, which gave you a bit of extra time to make sure you were ready to go. When you both were ready and Reid had confirmed the plainclothes officer was positioned on your street, he helped you to your car. 

With one hand on the top of your car, just as you were about to sit down, you stopped and turned to Reid. “I enjoyed breakfast, would you please tell Agent Hotchner how sorry I am that my schedule’s gotten in the way?” You asked, giving him your sweetest smile. It was another petty move and Aaron was sure to see right through it; the team had amazing skills at reading people, you knew that, but you were an equally talented actress. “I’ll make sure to let you guys know when I’ll be back at home tonight.” You added, before sliding into your car. Reid closed the door gently behind you, waving from the outside of your garage as you pulled out and drove off. 

-----

Case wise, the next two days were quiet. You had won the ‘going to work battle’ by a longshot and happily went about your scheduled days. Aaron hadn’t taken another watch shift since the argument, something you were grateful for. It wasn’t until the fourth day, that the case started to pick up again.

“Agent Hotchner?” A young officer stepped into the conference room, holding out a thick manila envelope. “This was just dropped off at the front desk, addressed to you.” That certainly captured the entire team’s attention; every head turning, as if off on a swivel, to face the officer. 

“Who dropped it off?” Hotch demanded. ‘Who dropped it off?” He repeated, an added aggression in his voice. 

“Some kid! Some kid dropped it at the front and left before anyone could get a word out!” The officer said hurriedly, raising one of his hands up in a meek surrender. 

Hotch stepped up to the officer, easily snatching the envelope out of his hands. “Assure that my technical analyst has access to your entire security feed. Now.” He ordered, not giving the officer as a second glance. “Morgan, call Garcia and make sure she accesses those tapes and identifies the kid immediately.” 

Hotch went back to standing in front of the long table in the middle of the room, setting the envelope down in front of him. “Gloves, I need-” A pair were placed in his outstretched hand by Reid before he could finish. “I don’t want anyone touching anything that comes out of here without gloves, understood?” He said, not looking at anyone in particular. His focus, completely drawn to the angry penmanship that spelled out his name. After quickly pulling his gloves all the way on, Hotch grabbed the envelope again, internally shoving down his emotions before ripping off the top edge in one clean pull. Nothing could have prepared him for the way the envelope was overflowing with hundreds of photos of you. He tilted the envelope and they all came falling out, covering the table in front of him. Reid mentally estimated there were over five hundred photos of you- some seemed to be cut, some looked to have writing and designs on them- and there were even a few slips of paper thrown in the mix. 

“Hotch, Garcia managed to grab the plate from what the kid drove off in. She's running it-” Morgan said, his sentence running off as he took in the table full of photos. “Holy shit.” He said quietly, making his way closer to the table as well. 

Hotch reached down, picking up the closest photo to him. There you were, standing on a boardwalk with your hand blocking the sun from your eyes. You looked beautiful- stop that. As Hotch further studied the photo, he picked up a second one, taking another good look. It struck Hotch and the team then, the majority of the photos were grossly intimate; as if the unsub had taken them by himself. Hotch’s stomach twisted when his eyes fell on a photo that looked like you were posing for it, throwing a big smile and peace sign up at the camera. 

“Did Garcia get any hits on any scorned lovers?” Emily asked, holding up a photo of you and a man. The face and body of the man had been aggressively scratched over and cut up, but Aaron had a sinking feeling it was of him. 

“Yea, I got another potential ex photo right here.” Reid said, holding up another picture. In this one you had clearly been looking up at someone, but the photo had been crudely cut up to exclude whoever it was. 

Morgan held up one of the slips of papers, giving it a confused look. “You lost Aaron?” He said, reading off the paper. “What’s the reasoning for singling out Hotch rather than someone closer to her age like Reid” He questioned, not expecting anyone to answer. 

“I got one of Hotch’s face scribbled over. He must’ve gotten the photo online.” Emily added, holding up a professional headshot of Hotch. “Is anyone seeing photos of the rest of us? The unsub could see all of us as interfering with his connection to Y/N.” 

Hotch’s stomach was twisted in all different directions. He knew the moment of truth was coming and was internally cursing himself for not coming clean sooner. But that paled in comparison to the sickness he felt over the unsub clearly being someone who had such personal access to you. He was certain that some of these photos dates back years. The idea that whoever was doing this had been so close to you, for so long, could’ve brought him to his knees. 

“Hotch…” JJ said, her voice accusatory. She looked up at him, face a mix of confusion and a hint of betrayal. She held up another photo and the entire team went quiet. This photo was clearly taken at a distance, but there you were looking lovingly up at a man who was certainly Hotch. 

Hotch had one hand clenched tightly on the edge of the table, taking a deep breath before he looked up at his agents staring expectantly at him.  

“I haven’t been completely honest with you all,” Hotch started, running his free hand over his face, “I met Y/N five years ago and we were together for three, until I ended things.” He was sure someone had audibly gasped at that. “I know you all may have various concerns over my proximity to the case and are valid in any anger you may feel towards me. But right now, I need to go call Y/N and make sure she’s safe.” 

Hotch didn’t give anyone a chance to reply, instead whipping out his phone and near running out the door. Leaving a team of confused and shocked agents in his wake.

-----

a/n - of course, thank you all for reading. it means the world to me! also just the quickest of shoutouts to @kylorendrip and @ssahoodrathotchner who both constantly put up with my writing complaints and all the random ideas i bounce around their dms on the daily. 

taglist - @mac99martin @iwaizumiee @kylorendrip @hqtchner @lieswithoutfairytales @ssahoodrathotchner @midsummernightdream @weasleylovers @evans-dejong @itsmytimetoodream @yoshigguk @28cnn @cuddlyklaus @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @yallgotkik @sunflowersandotherthings @alexrodriguez1269

no permission is given to copy or republish my writing on any other platform or account. if you see this story outside of my blog or my ao3 it is stolen work. i do not own nor claim to own criminal minds or any of the character involved in it.

[sunnywritesstuff34]

Illusions

(Yayyyy. Another one. It’s been a while, sorry. just wanna preface this by saying that like... I usually don’t really give a shit about Obito, but I figured this was a natural progression of the story and I kinda wanted to try and dive into Obito’s psyche a little so. here we go. tell me what you think. @ghostjellyfishheart here’s the next chapter lol. pls mind the tw’s)

TW and CW for: MAJOR UNREALITY, seriously stay safe, Obito is kinda spiraling a lot, grieving, struggling with morality, drinking, alcohol, less then stellar coping mechanisms of all kinds, don’t do this kids, child death, ghost child, dead kid, you don’t like... see her die but Rin is very much not alive, references to suicide, implied suicide, the uchiha massacre is its own warning, murder, its bad. its just. its just bad. did I mention unreality? a lot of that, death of a family member, obito is having a hard time with feelings, probably dis@ssociation, pretentious symbolism, scratch that, definitely dis@ssociation

Obito Uchiha is upset. 

And that is, frankly, ridiculous. Obito does not get upset. What does upset even mean? Is he sad? Mourning, perhaps? Or is he just worried? Either way, its borderline impossible. He shouldn’t be feeling anything. Obito doesn’t feel anything. Sure, he plays at it, when he’s Tobi. He feigns and pretends, he’s good at that. That is what he is, that is all he is. To Itachi, he is Madara. To Konan and Nagito, he is Obito. To everyone else, he is Tobi. Obito has taken on mask after mask after mask on in his life, both figuratively and literally. Sometimes he doesn't know where Obito ends and another begins. Obito does not feel anything, not for anyone that isn't Rin. Never for anyone that isn't Rin, and he left her behind a long time ago. And yet this boy, this child, has him reeling somehow. Has him… well, like before, the only word he can use is upset. He is rattled. And it has been so long, so long since he’s felt anything at all, that he doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know how to fix it. He kept seeing Sasuke in his head, kept remembering memories from years ago when he thought about the kid being gone forever. He remembered the first few years Itachi brought Sasuke to the compound, he remembered spontaneously discovering his obsession with tomatoes by accident with Kisame (who would not stop laughing. He had just never seen anybody. Put an entire tomato in their mouth. And Sasuke did it like it was the most natural thing in the world! Kisame wouldn't shut up about it for at least a week). He remembered helping the boy train with his newly forged chokuto, he remembered the grim determination towards his family and how much it reminded Obito of himself, he remembered all of it. And none of that should have mattered, because it wasn't real. None of it was real, the next world would be. The next world with Rin and Kakashi and Minato-sensei still alive, a world without… without Sasuke. Or any of the other Akatsuki. And that was what he wanted. He was sure that was what he wanted. Only in his room could he show the weakness tightly coiled in his stomach. But there was a knock on his door and it made him straighten up, instantly putting the mask that he just took off back on his face. He walked to the door and opened it, only to find the older Uchiha brother staring back at him. Obito blinked. 

“Itachi-san. What are you… what are you doing here? I- uh… come in.” Obito and Itachi sat down at the small table in Obito’s room and stared at each other awkwardly. “So… how can I help you?” Obito tried to ask, unsure of whether to say it like Tobi or just let his guard down and talk like himself (whoever that was). Itachi cleared his throat. 

“You are the only person in this godforsaken place that has sake that's worth a damn,” Itachi explained calmly. He looked away. “It has… been a long week.” Obito could tell the truth in that statement just from his cousin’s voice. Itachi sounded exhausted, and the perpetual mask of indifference had begun to slip when his little brother went missing. The two of them looked at each other and came to an understanding. For the next few minutes, there was no talking. Obito grabbed some glasses and poured his strongest sake out for the both of them, and they drank in silence. They only actually picked up a conversation once they were both drunk enough for the awkwardness to melt away. 

“He’s likely not dead,” Obito commented bluntly. Itachi only sighed. 

“If he is, I have no idea what I'd do,” Itachi grumbled casually, like it was an ordinary thing to say. “Certainly wouldn't stick around here. Probably follow in Shisui’s footsteps.” Obito only nodded, knowing better than to pry on that particular bit of insight into Itachi’s life. They were silent for a few more minutes before Obito spoke again. 

“The massacre,” Obito started. “I was long gone by the time it happened. What… are you and Sasuke really the only survivors as the rumors say?” Itachi nodded, throwing back another glass. Obito thought about that bitterly, about his grandmother who wouldn't have been spared. Itachi sighed. 

“Right. I've never really talked about this with anyone, and Sasuke and I don't speak about it much. You know how sharingan awakening works, yes?” Obito nodded, mind involuntarily flashing to his own experience. 

“Well I made some genuine friends on my genin team. It was the first time I ever had any friends.” Obito closed his eyes and took another sip. Friends, sharingan awakening. Being crushed under a boulder with your crying teammates looming over you. Thinking, no, don't cry, it doesn't hurt. It really doesn't hurt. I can't feel anything, please don't cry. Watching a particular white haired individual (a traitor, that traitor) desperately try to save you. Losing a part of yourself, a part of yourself you didn't even know you had, and giving it to someone else. Forever living with that, knowing that your other eye is somewhere, because you can still feel it, but not knowing much else. The aching absence that grows from that. He opened his eyes again. “I watched them die, right in front of my eyes. That awakened my Sharingan, and when I went home, my father congratulated me. He congratulated me. It was a nightmare and he was proud. I don't know, that always stuck with me. But anyway,” Itachi paused to drink more sake as the room spun. “Sasuke’s eyes woke during the massacre. I didn't get there in time. He watched our parents die, managed to hide in the closet and keep quiet the whole time so they didn't find him. I got there in time to stop them from killing him, and realized his sharingan had awakened because of everything. I wasn't able to save anyone, but I was able to save him, and that's all that matters.”

“I understand,” Obito replied evenly. “I know what it's like to be too late.”

Itachi’s eyes slid over to him. “Yeah well… whatever. The Uchiha had been planning a coup for a while. Danzo, he gave me a choice. Either kill everyone myself and have Sasuke be spared to live happily in the village. Or, to let them kill everyone, Sasuke included. I didn't… I refused either option and tried to get there but I was too late. They killed everyone in one night, a bunch of Anbu who were deployed for the massacre. Like I said, Sasuke managed to hide. I knew that Danzo would be after us, so I grabbed Sasuke and we got the hell out of dodge. He didn't speak for months afterwards. Not a single word, other than screaming during his nightmares. It was probably a little selfish, but I… I missed him. There was no more ‘Itachi, look at the score I got at the academy!’ or ‘Itachi look, look I learned a new move!’ There was just… nothing. He was so vacant. If he's dead- if he’s dead after everything we’ve been through, I don't- I have no idea what I'll do. We have to find him, and we have to kill the people who took him away from us. We have to.” I know, he wanted to shout. I know, I feel the same way, but I don't know why! Itachi left not long after that, stumbled back to his room, and Obito fell asleep in his armchair. That night he had a dream, a dream of Rin. it had been years since he dreamed of her, usually they were memories and bits and pieces, but this was different. He opened his eyes in his dream to a dark plane filled with ink, darkness stretching in every direction. It was a frequent setting he found himself in, usually the dream would be about him sinking into the oily substance until he couldn't breath. But this time it was low enough to wade in, his feet touching the ground, whatever that was. In the middle of the expanse, there was a bone white skeleton of some creature he didn't recognize, and Rin. He staggered towards her, and she hugged him without a word. In dreams like this he was always covered in blood, the Obito from years past. But now he was just him, and he was maskless.

“Just what have you gotten yourself into now, Obito?” she asked, and it sounded just like her. It wasn't her, he was fairly sure of that, he was dreaming for god’s sake, but it sounded like her. It seemed like her, and that was enough. “It's okay to be worried about the kid,” she said, running fingers through his hair while he tried to calm his breathing. 

“It's not real,” he managed hoarsely. “None of it. Nothing in this world is real, I shouldn't feel anything. So why… Why do I…”

“Does it matter if it's real?” she asked. “It feels real. Maybe it is, Obito.”

“Obito is dead,” he whispered. “At least the one you knew- Obito doesn't exist anymore.” Rin only shook her head, looking past him at nothing at all and smiling sadly.

“I don't believe you,” she said evenly. “You're still Obito. No matter how many names you take or how many masks you wear, I know who you are. And I think you do too.”

“It's not real,” he tried again, weakly. 

“If it's not real, then why do you help Konan with the dishes? If it's not real, then why do you want to save Itachi’s brother so badly? Why do you make plans for Nagato’s dream in the supposed next world when you don't have to? Why do you stick around Deidara to make sure he doesn't get killed? Why do you help Sasori with his puppets? Why, Obito?”

“I can't be Obito,” he muttered quietly. “He’s dead. He died with you.”

“He is right here. He is sitting here with me. You're still you. You'll always be you.”

“B-But…. But Madara-”

“Madara is dead,” she said with finality, shaking her head. “Madara is a dead man now. You are the only thing that can bring him back, and you have a choice.”

“I've never had a choice.”

“You do now. Madara isn't here.”

“This is all just an illusion.” She smiled sadly. 

“I'm an illusion, Obito. Your world is not.”

His dream didn't fade out from there. One second he was sitting in a dark dreamscape with his dead friend, and the next he was in the Akatsuki lair, laying in an armchair, sitting up and gasping for breath. His back hurt and his neck was aching from the weird position he dozed off in, and Obito could already feel the nausea of an inevitable hangover coming on. Still, he sat up properly, stretching his neck and running a hand through his short hair. Itachi was probably passed out in his room or throwing up already, and Obito had a hunch that he’d be feeling the same way pretty soon. He looked down at the floor and forced his eyes to focus. He didn't have time for a drunken hallucination within a drunken hallucination. But when he turned his head, he felt himself recoil and raise his hands to his face. The orange plastic from the ground winked back at him. Obito had taken his mask off. And now it was cracked. 

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

Seeking Advice, Support, Validation

TW: sexual assault, mentions of non-consensual sex and the word associated with it, detailed description of trauma event, mentions of death and dying, ptsd symptoms mention

Hi. I’ve sent an ask in before, and you were so kind and validating then, so I thought I’d post again.

It’s September, now. In a few days the one year anniversary of being gang raped will be here and I am not doing well. I keep having really intense flashbacks and dissociation. I space out while working, driving, interacting with others. I have extra appointments set up with my therapist and she’s assured me she’s on standby should I need her. I have trouble leaving my house. My hyper vigilance is on high alert and I know it’s gonna take time and I know it’s going to take work and I know my avoidance is not making it better.

I’d like to go into detail about the experience in this next space, so tw again…

I had met a guy on a dating app and we talked for almost two months before agreeing to meet. He seemed normal, kind, we had similar world views and interests. I was going on a short trip close to his location and offered a neutral public space to meet. He agreed and we had a good time. It was during the second wave of Covid closures and since we couldn’t eat at a restaurant I offered my hotel suite which had a kitchenette and table. While we were deciding on what to eat we ran into a friend of his and his girlfriend who I immediately got along well with and invited them all up to my room. We ate and played video games. The girlfriend had to go into work and the friend left. The guy asked if it would be ok to make out and I agreed. What I didn’t realize was that as he was leaving the friend turned the security lock outwards so that my door wouldn’t fully close and he could get back in. He returned and together they raped me. While this was absolutely awful and traumatic it was made worse by the knowledge that the friend had contacted several other men who then proceeded to enter my hotel room rape me and leave (some even returning later) over a period of about 8 hours. None of them used a condom and several finished inside me. I was hit, choked and bound several times. No one used lube. Almost everyone was masked due to Covid or at least I assume it was due to Covid but it also served as a deterrent to identifying anyone. I checked out of the hotel. Bought plan b and tried to gather myself on my own, convinced no one would believe me. When I had therapy the next day my therapist was keyed into my discomfort and eventually I told her. My therapist then took me to my ObGyn to make sure I got treated properly. Though I was pretty badly beaten up I still refused to report. My therapist was kind and understanding but I felt bad for dragging her into such a mess. Almost a month later I developed a fever of 106 and couldn’t move. I initially assumed Covid and went to the er. As it turns out I had pelvic inflammatory disease resulting from chlamydia, a uti that had spread to my kidneys and an ectopic pregnancy in which the embryo had formed over the opening of my cervix. I didn’t report while in the hospital because the er doctor was a man who told me I needed to “choose my sexual partners more wisely” and “that guys don’t like girls who sleep around”After minor surgery and three days in the hospital as well as several medications I was referred to another ObGyn who agreed with me or rather supported my decision not to report. I healed up and tried to go back to normal. I couldn’t. My PTSD returned or maybe it was altogether new, with a vengeance. Night terrors, flashbacks, panic attacks, sex repulsion, hyper vigilance, depression, anxiety, the works. I’m scared of every man I even see because I can’t be sure they weren’t there. But I can’t talk about it. Talking about it means I have to admit it happened and it’s not only so shame inducing but I feel absolutely stupid for any choices I made that led to it in the first place. End of graphic description of trauma… safe to read on with original tw in place

AND now my grandfather is in the hospital with an infection in his heart. He is old and was previously doing chemotherapy and his body is just not able to fight it. The doctors have given him days at most.

So my problem is, it seems really selfish and wrong of me to dwell on my trauma when he is going to die. Like at least I am alive and in decent health right? My family is relying on me to take some responsibility for some things while my father is by his dads bedside. And my parents take care of my moms mom so I have picked up any slack there too. I have always been a person who busies themself through grief. But coupled with my spaceiness and dissociation I’m letting them all down. I forgot to give my grandmother one of her medications. I left the dog door open overnight. I didn’t clean up after my grandmothers dinner properly and the dogs got into the trash. I know it seems like little things but I feel like a failure of a human. My family doesn’t know what happened last year. I don’t think they’d take it well and they were never really supportive in the past, claiming my trauma made them uncomfortable and I should reserve it for my therapist. And anyway it seems almost wrong (?) to say “yes I know your dad is dying but I’m dealing with intense ptsd so sorry I can’t help you.” So I just don’t know what to do. I just feel terrible all around. This is the first time I’ve been able to really go through the experience and put it down in words so thank you at the very least for that. I’m sorry it’s so long I’m just really lost and your blog is so validating so thank you. -FK

Hi anon, 

I am glad that you felt like you could write into us again. I am so sorry for all you’re dealing with. Traumaversaries can be so difficult. I am really glad that you have a therapist that is in your corner and my first piece of advice is to take her up on the offer of being on standby if you need her. I also want to say that I am really proud of you for talking to her about this enough that you have extra appointments and that set up. I know it can be so hard but your comfort is important. What you’re going through is a lot and you deserve support.

It’s reasonable you don’t want to tell your family, especially given how they’ve reacted in the past. It seems hard to balance and I’m so sorry for that. But I do want to tell you that you are not being selfish. You are going through a lot of trauma, and the triggering aspect of the anniversary is a really valid really to be having a hard time. It would be valid even without that trigger looming over you. 

I am so glad you had your therapist with you when this all happened and I am beyond angry on your behalf at that doctor who said those things to you. I really don’t think people like him should have doctor’s licenses, and you did not deserve to be treated that way. 

It’s really valid that you aren’t ready to talk about it. Please don’t force yourself because it can be re-traumatizing to talk about it before you’re ready. Having a therapist for this is really good, but for some, it helps to have support of others that are validating. For this, I recommend trying to reach out to a trauma support group whether that’s online or in person. A good one won’t force you to talk about things before you’re ready but having the validation that this support group may give can be so helpful. A lot of times, people that have been through similar will have suggestions and tips that can be helpful too. But for me, it’s the feeling that I’m not alone. 

And I do want to say that to you. You are not alone. I know I’m just some random stranger on the internet, but I am here and I believe you and my thoughts are with you. 

You are not a failure of a human. I promise you that. You are human and you have a lot that you are trying to cope with right now and it’s beyond understandable that you are struggling. 

I also want to say that I am proud of you for putting it into words because that is an amazing step in the direction of talking about it. One of my questions/suggestions for you, is does your therapist know the whole story? If not, is writing it out for her like you did for us here a possibility? Even to copy and paste this ask and show it to her? Her having as much information as possible might allow her to help you more. If you aren’t ready for that, that’s okay. It’s really just a suggestion. 

I believe in you, anon. And you and your feelings are valid. I can promise you that. 

April

[zuucc]

SOMEONE YOU LOVED: W. Nylander I FLUFF/SMUT

Words: 8K

Angst meter: I wrote the word tear(s) 25 times (honorable mention: heart - 19 times)

Summary: Being in a relationship with a professional hockey player wasn’t easy. In fact, it was too hard. To protect your heart, you’d ended the relationship. Having had you to fall back on during the hardest time of his career, William now found it hard to cope when life got too hard - now that he didn’t have you.

Author’s note: I’ve had the song “Someone you loved” by Lewis Capaldi on repeat for two four weeks straight and this angsty shit is the result of that. Also, I started this before Babcock was fired (THANK THE GODS). Hope you like it<3

Special thanks to @mcdraisaitl​ for not only being my spell check but also my personal thesaurus (unfortunately there are no synonyms for tear/s)

Masterlist linked in bio.

It was way too late for William to still be awake. The morning practice and his teammate’s waiting car getting closer every time he looked at the numbers on his phone screen. Too close. He was so ridiculously tired. There was no way he could keep his eyes open for more than a few seconds, but he still couldn’t sleep. He still couldn’t shut his brain off.

He didn’t understand why he had to go through all of this all over again. He’d been playing well enough, making assists in almost every game, scoring – making his teammates better. Still, he felt the same as the season before.

Terrible.

But this time it was worse, even if he felt he didn’t really deserve it this time. Last year he’d had someone to fall back on, someone who would hold him and tell him that everything was going to be alright. Last year he’d had someone to save him from his darkest thoughts, someone who helped him escape – made him laugh, and smile. Made him forget, just for a few hours.

Last year there was always someone waiting for him after his worst games, even if they weren’t there, at least they were just a phone call away. There was someone in his bed when he came home, opening their arms to hold him, or pressing their body against his for him to get lost in something else for once.

Last year he had you.

But you had left a long time ago. You left when it got too tough. When the challenges of being with someone who was never there, someone who would leave for weeks – for the entire summer – got too difficult to deal with.

You were two years deep into university when you’d met; the pressure of exams, lectures and a pending dissertation resting on your shoulders. Along with that you had a part time job and friends. And living as far away from your family as you did, had you holding onto those friendships for dear life. Making time for all that was hard, in general. But trying to make time for a boyfriend that had an even worse schedule than you made it even harder.

So you took the hardest decision you’d ever made and disappeared from his life. You left, with tears streaming down your face for days on end and the weight of not only having broken your own heart, but his as well. You’d protected yourself, protected your heart.

And he couldn’t blame you.

“I have to protect myself Will,” you’d cried, pressing one last kiss to his lips before you’d crawled out of his bed, throwing on your clothes that laid scattered all over the floor. He’d laid awake all night, tears falling silently down the side of his face and onto his pillow as he tried calling you for the twentieth time that night without any luck. And then he’d gotten up and gone on the longest flight to Sweden of his life. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried to his mom, but he’d broken down the second he got in her car at the airport.

That was nearly five months ago. William thought that maybe he’d gotten over you, but as soon as the hockey season started again, and life came crashing down on him again with the pressure of the entire city of Toronto looking over his shoulders, and a coach that only pushed him down further.

His mind returned back to what wasn’t there anymore to help him stay away from his darkest thoughts during the last season, the only one that could help him forget them. The one that had helped him get through last season and all that came with it... The one that made him feel so loved that whatever the media had said, or the comments on Instagram and Twitter said – what Babcock said - didn’t matter at all.

~

“Can I sleep here?” he asked.

To say you were at a loss for words was an understatement, already in shock when you opened the door and found your ex-boyfriend standing in the hallway of your apartment building.

“I don’t sleep anymore. I have a game tonight and I haven’t slept for even one second tonight because life is pretty shitty right now and you’re not there to fix it. Life is so fucking hard right now and I can’t sleep without you.”

His words break your heart all over again. You’d struggled for so long trying to forget him, that you broke his heart. You’ve never really forgotten him though. It’s pretty hard when his face is plastered all over the city – on a poster at the bus stop, or an ad on TV – his name on the back of someone who just walked past you. And every time you’re reminded of what you had together; and what you did to him.

You finally open the door fully, letting him step inside. He walks past you, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his coat before he takes your hand and leads you to your bedroom. He motions for you to lay down, and you do - opening your arms for him like you’d done so many times the year before - letting him rest his head on your chest while your legs tangled. Your hand found its way into his hair as his face nuzzled into your neck.

Your body tensed up as you felt the first tear soak through the thin material of your t-shirt, your arms tightening around him as you fought to keep your own at bay.

“I need you,” he weeps, letting his arm curl around your back and pull you to him.

“I know,” you swallow the giant lump in your throat, just barely getting the words out in a whisper before your resolve breaks and there’s a stream of tears cascading down the sides of your face.

Just a few minutes later his body starts to feel heavier on top of yours and you can hear his breaths change. And as he sleeps with his head on your chest and his leg intertwined with yours, you struggle to keep your crying from turning into sobs. You struggle to keep still and quiet and not let the overbearing regret, guilt, and heartbreak from seeing him again – from seeing first hand how badly you broke him – wake him up.

Somewhere in the middle of the four hours that you laid there, clinging onto his sleeping form, your roommate came home. The door wasn’t closed all the way and she opened it, peeking inside in confusion. As you met her eyes, more tears started streaming down your cheeks, and you lifted your hand from his hair to hold a finger against your lips, begging her to not say anything, and with a worried look she backed out again.

It was the least you could do. Just to let him sleep when you were part of the reason why he couldn’t.

He didn’t wake up before the smart watch on his wrist started buzzing, an alarm telling him that he needed to leave soon. He groaned, nuzzling his face into your neck for a second before he tore his body away from yours. Your eyes met, and you could tell that he noticed your blood shot eyes and wet cheeks by the way his face fell when he looked at you. His hand came up to your face, cupping your cheek in his big palm – a thumb coming up to catch the drop that fell from your eye. He then leaned in, placing a kiss on your salty, tear stained cheek, before whispering a “thank you” and leaving.

You finally let the sobs break through you once you hear the door close, and only seconds later your roommate is in your room pulling you into a hug.

“Hey, what happened? What was he doing here?” she asks, her voice soft and filled with worry.

“I broke his heart, Jess,” you cry, struggling to breathe through your sobs, “he’s struggling and I’m not there to help him. He came here asking if he could sleep here for Gods sake,” you choke out, “He hadn’t slept all night, and then five minutes in my arms and he sleeps for four hours,”

“Honey, you didn’t just break his heart when you broke off the relationship, you know that right?” Jess says, letting her fingers slide through your hair in a soothing manner.

“I broke mine, too,” you breathe, finally calming down.

“Yeah, and if you love him so much… why aren’t you with him?” she asks the question you’d answered so many times before.

“You know why, Jess,” you sigh, drying your face with the backs of your hands.

“Yeah, I know that you didn’t have time – that your schedule didn’t work with his – that finding time for him while also finding time for Uni, work, and friends was damn near impossible, I know. But you’re not in Uni anymore. You have your degree, and you have your nine to five job. You can fit him into your schedule. And even if he’s gone for a week or two for road trips, don’t you think it’s better than being miserable without him completely?”

You sigh again, trying to keep your breathing slow and steady as you let your roommate’s words sink in. You pride yourself with being right most of the time, but this time you thought maybe you weren’t. It was hard to admit but, like she said, being without him was harder.

You shove your phone into her hands before getting out of bed and dragging a chair over to your closet, climbing on top of it and reaching into the very back of the top shelf.

“Can you see if you can find me tickets to the game tonight?” you ask her, finally getting hold of the blue hoodie with the number 29 on its chest that he’d let you steal.

“What’s your plan?” Jess asks while searching for tickets on your phone.

“I’m going to put on this hoodie that I’ve neglected for nearly six months, then I’m gonna go to the game and hopefully not cry myself through it, and then I’m going to go find him after,” you explain, releasing a deep breath.

“And then?” she asks, looking up from your phone.

“And then we’ll talk,” you whisper, lifting the hoodie to your face, breathing in the very faint smell of cologne, that you could probably only smell because you knew it was there.

“I found a seat,” she says, breaking you out of your trance.

“Buy it. I don’t care where it is,” you tell her.

Jess hums, confirming that she was already in the process of doing so. You pull the old Toronto Maple Leaf hockey hoodie over your head, shoving your arms into its way too long sleeves and letting it fall down over your torso. Seeing it on you in the mirror sent tears running down your cheeks again.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” Jess reacts quickly as you sit down on the bed, your head falling into your hands while you sob.

“He doesn’t even wear this number anymore,” you weep, leaning into her as she once again slides her arms around you.

“Hey, you’re gonna go to the game, and you’re gonna find him after and then you’re gonna talk and fix everything. And by the time you’re back here you’re gonna have a new hoodie with the number 88 on it, right?” she tries to cheer you up.

“But what if he doesn’t want me back? He might miss me and need me but I broke his heart… I left him,” you cry, overthinking everything in the hopes of not letting yourself get any expectations for the conversation you were hoping to have with your ex-boyfriend in a few hours.

“Babe, he came here to sleep in your arms, he- he wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t want you back; hockey game tonight or not,” Jess tries, but you can’t let yourself believe her.

After having been force fed Chinese take out by Jess and after having washed your tear stained face at least four times, you make your way to the arena, taking the longest route you know just to give yourself more time to think about what you were going to say. The music playing on a low volume through your car speakers not exactly helping with lightening your mood. At some point the playlist shuffles to a song you can faintly remember William humming along to while he helped you make dinner sometime during the first months of your relationship and once again you’re crying.

You dry the tears off your face before leaving the car and making your way into the arena. You fight back the tears once again when you see him on the ice during warm ups, but make it through with glossy eyes. The game is harder to watch though, but you make it through that as well, only letting one tear slip when you see his tired face on the jumbotron.

You manage to get to the locker rooms, happy that the security guards are the same old men that were there the season before. All the wives and girlfriends are there waiting, but you stay as far away as possible in the hopes of going unnoticed. With the schedule that you already had trouble fitting in William, you’d barely met any of them – so you were most likely safe.

Alannah notices you, though, and makes her way over to you. Zach and William spent a lot of time together outside of the rink, and therefore you actually got to know her quite well. When you made it to games, she would make sure that you didn’t feel alone and that you were introduced to new people. But when you and Willy broke up, the contact between you faded away quickly.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” she asks.

Her voice is soft, though, and just the sound of it makes you want to cry. She sees your blood shot eyes and red cheeks and pulls you into a hug when your eyes gloss over with tears once more.

“Are you okay?” she forgets her first question and tries a new one.

You shake your head quickly, drying off a drop before it even leaves your eye.

“He came to my house today because he needed to sleep and he couldn’t without me,” you told her, answering her following questions and telling her your plans of hopefully making it all right again.

Zach isn’t as forgiving as his wife though, stopping in front of you with the same question as Alannah, just with an harsher tone. But he had every right to question you, to be mad at you. You’d broken his best friend’s heart and he was protective.

“She’s trying to make it right, Zach,” Alannah said softly, whispering you a quick ‘good luck’ with a squeeze of your hand before leading her husband away.

William comes out just a second later, freezing in the middle of the hallway when he sees you. Tears are spilling down your cheeks the second your eyes meet, and he walks over to you. Your arms are thrown around his neck as soon as he’s close enough and he pulls you into a tight embrace.  

“Can we talk?” you whisper, finally letting go of him when you feel him nod.

You step away from him and his hands come up to your face, drying your wet cheeks. He then takes your hand in his and leads you out of the arena. You follow him back to his place, and just seeing the building in front of you makes you want to start crying again – but you’re not sure you have any tears left.

You stand in silence in the elevator, neither of you ready to talk just yet. His arm slides around your shoulders a few floors into the elevator ride, and by the time it’s stopping, your body is flush against his and his lips is pressing a kiss into the top of your head. He leads you to his apartment with his hand in yours, even if you remembered exactly which door belonged to him.

Inside you’re lead to the couch where you wait for him while he changes out of his suit. Being back in his apartment brings back so many memories that you’ve tried so hard to forget, just sitting on his couch almost rips at your heart again – the memories of lazy nights with take out on the table and Netflix on the TV, cuddling after breakfast, and kissing him goodbye when he would sit on the couch with some kind of game on in front of him. The memories of your first time together comes flooding next, the images of lazy kisses on the couch turning desperate and being carried into his bedroom.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when William comes back, a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants having replaced his suit. He sets down a glass of water in front of you before he sits down next to you.

“You wanted to talk?” he says, urging you on.

You nod, fighting the lump in your throat that’s keeping you from actually talking.

“I’ve thought about what I was going to say to you every second since you fell asleep on my chest today, but I still don’t know what else to say other than I’m sorry,” you start, taking a sip of your water.

It’s not a great start, but it’s a start.

“I’m sorry that I left you. It was hard being with you because of our schedules but I think being without you has been a lot worse,” your voice is barely above a whisper but he listens.

“I’ve tried so hard to forget you, forget what I did to you, but it’s not fucking easy when I’m reminded of your existence everywhere I go,” you have somehow been able to keep calm, but you’re not sure if you can keep it up much longer, “Then you showed up today and it was like being smacked in the face with everything all over again – with breaking your heart, my own heart – with how much I still love you,” you tell him, somehow still remotely calm, but silent tears are sliding down your face.

He’s been looking down the whole time, just barely looking up for a second or two, but now he’s looking up – meeting your eyes. The sad look in his eyes has the tears spilling with more force.

“I love you so much,” you sob and he reaches out, pulling you closer and hugging you to him, “I’m so sorry,” you choke out and cling onto him with your arms around his neck.

He holds you until you calm down again, until you stop shaking, the tears stop coming.

“I love you, too,” he whispers, his fingers running through your hair, “And I miss you so much, especially now that I’m having a hard time again - I’m just reminded that you’re not here like you were last year,” he tells you, his voice low and soft as he keeps you close, arms firm around your body.

It surprises you how openly he talks about his feelings; still. It had taken you a long time to break down his walls, to get him to talk to you, but it seems the walls were still crumbled for you.

“I want to be here again,” you breathe, pulling back far enough to look at him. His eyes are filled with worry as he looks at you, and he’s just barely able to keep his eyes focused on yours, “I don’t want to be without you anymore, and I wanna be here for you,” you tell him, your voice a little bit stronger.

You move your hand to cup his cheek, and he looks away with glossy eyes.

“If you’ll have me,” you add, watching as a single tear slides down his cheek.

“I’d take you back no matter what,” he sighs, his head falling to rest against your shoulder. “Because that’s how much I love you,” he adds, and it feels like your heart is breaking for the hundredth time today. “I just need to know that you’re not gonna do that again, please,” he says, his voice so low and vulnerable that it brings tears to your eyes once again. “I love you so fucking much, and it wouldn’t have mattered what you did because I’d take you back anyway – fuck, I’ve already taken you back – but I need to know if I can trust you to not leave me again. I can’t go through that, not again,” his voice is strong, even if there’s a wet stream down each of his cheeks.

You climb onto his lap, straddling his hips and pulling him into a hug – his arms sliding around your waist in an embrace not even seconds later. You pull back slightly, placing your hands on each of his cheeks, your eyes meeting his and you just sit there for a couple of seconds, just gazing into each other’s eyes. You don’t know what he’s looking for, but it looks like he’s searching for something. Truth? Any sign that you don’t mean what you’re saying?

But then his eyes flicks to your lips, and you’re pressing yours to his in a heartbeat. It’s slow and deep, and long. His arms tighten around your waist and you hold him to you with the best of your strength. The next kiss is with more force, harder, but somehow so soft and vulnerable. You lean back and away from the kiss, his lips following you, begging for more.

“Wait,” you stop him, pressing your forehead to his and letting your hands slide back and into his hair.

His eyes clench shut and you pull him back into a hug, letting him rest his head on your shoulder again.

“I’ll stay. I’ll stay for as long as you’ll have me,” you start, feeling his arm tighten around you again, his face pressing into your neck. “The fact that I hurt you hurts just as much as being without you hurts me, and I’ll live with that guilt for a long time. But I’m here to stay, and I’ll love you with everything that I have and everything that I am,” you whisper, your fingers running through his hair.

“But what if it gets hard again?”

“My situation is so different now than it was before. I was finishing university, I had friends that I was terrified to lose because of my family being so far away, and I had to take every shift that I could just so that I would be able to both pay my rent and buy necessities – a relationship just didn’t fit into the equation, especially when there were weeks when you were gone, and when you finally came back I had an exam to study for or essays to write,” you tell him. “But now I’m done with all that. I have a job with steady pay that’ll never make me pick up an extra shift. I have a nine to five job that’ll never keep me longer. Half my friends have moved away, some of them I don’t even talk to anymore. It doesn’t even matter, you’re more important anyway. I have time now. For you- for us,” you make him look at you again.

“I know that you’ll still be gone a week or two, but I can manage. I can’t not have you in my life anymore though. And I’ll do everything in my power to make you trust me again, to make you understand how much I love you,” you finish and his lips are pressed to yours again.

He kisses you desperately, his hands traveling all over in hopes of touching every single piece of you he’d missed after having been without you for six months. You still remember the last time you had sex, the night of all heartbreak and regrets. It was slow and desperate all at the same time, much like your actions now.

Every now and then his hands stop moving, and yet he somehow pulls you even closer, kissing you deeply as he holds you. You let him take it all out on you, his feelings – anger, hurt, love; maybe some combination of the three. It all comes out in desperate kisses and lingering touches.  

“Will you just stay here tonight?” he asks, his voice barely audible, his forehead pressed against yours.

And even if you’ve told him that you would stay forever if he’d let you, even if you’re offering to love him with all your might, he still asks you to stay like you’re leaving in the morning and never coming back.

“Yes, I promise,” you say, as clearly and confidently as you possibly can with the weight of your lost trust on your chest.

You climb out of his lap, planting your feet on the floor again. With his hands in yours you pull him up as well, and the two of you make your way through the apartment like you used to before, without a word being exchanged. You make sure the door is locked, while he takes the empty glasses to the dishwasher. You switch off the lights on your way to his bedroom, and while he stops to move some stuff off his bed you make your way into his en-suite.

The sight in front of you tugs at your heartstrings for what’s probably the tenth time that day, and you’re frozen in your spot in front of the mirror. William’s voice is what snaps you out of your trance, even if his voice is low and soft, shy and almost defensive.

“I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away,” he says, motioning to your old toothbrush that’s still taking up space in the cup with his own, along with the toothpaste.

You can feel his body coming up behind you and you immediately turn around and bury your face in his chest, letting his arms embrace you.

“I’ll get you a new one tomorrow,” he whispers into your hair, like the issue at hand is the fact that your toothbrush is over six months old - not the fact that he still has it after six months.

“Come on, let’s get ready,” he whispers into your hair, placing his hand on your neck, tilting your head up with his thumb placed on your jaw.

He looks stronger – more secure, but still vulnerable when he tilts his head to the side as he studies your face before he leans down and kisses away the stray tear on your cheek. His other hand moves from your waist to your face, pointer finger lightly stroking a few strands of hair behind your ear, then using his hand to guide your lips to his. He kisses you softly, once or twice. And then another kiss placed on your forehead before he places his hands on your shoulders, turning you around and leading you the rest of the way over to the sink. You brush your teeth together, and he hands you a fresh towel after you wash away the tear stains.

You hang the towel and when you turn back to him, he’s watching you. You smile softly when you meet his eyes, and it warms your heart when a smile tugs at his lips as well. He pulls you into him by your hips, placing a kiss on your lips before pulling back again.

“You know, I don’t wear this number anymore,” he smiles, even though there’s a sad truth behind his words.

“I know,” you chuckle, “that was the reason behind one of many breakdowns today,” you tell him, returning his smile.

Your words has him pulling you into a hug, “I’m sorry if me showing up today made everything worse for you,” he mumbled into your hair.

You sigh, hugging him harder, “It was a lot, and it has been a tough day, but I’m happy you did. I’m here now, and I wouldn’t have been if you didn’t,” you tell him, pulling back to look at him.

“It has been a tough six months,” William sighs, and you’re immediately pulling him back into the hug – this time your hands are around his neck.

“Yeah, and I’ll never stop apologizing for it,” you sigh in return.

His lips touch your neck, and you find yourself nuzzling into the crease between his shoulder and his neck, breathing in the smell of him.

“I love you,” he whispers, both the feeling of hearing him say those words and his breath and lips moving against your skin gives you goosebumps.

“I love you, too, baby,” you hum, the pet name just slipping out so naturally. His arms tighten around you and his lips press another kiss to your neck – a lingering one.

He pulls back, his hand coming up to push the hair out of your face while he still holds you close. You can’t read the look on his face, but a small smile tugs his lips upwards before they’re pressed to yours. The kiss is soft at first, but after a deep intake of breath, he comes back stronger – with more force. With one hand curled around you, holding you close with his flat palm on your lower back, his other hand travels up your body until it’s positioned on the back of your neck, fingers tangled in your hair as his kisses advance to the next level.

You’re clinging to his t-shirt, asking yourself if it’s too early to let your hands wander underneath the fabric. While you ponder, your kisses became more demanding and you can feel his tongue on your bottom lip as you’re already opening your mouth, waiting to feel his tongue against yours. The hand on your back moves up, arm sliding around your waist and you’re pulled even closer, to the point where you’re on your toes to accommodate the height difference between you two. You hum against his lips, loving the feeling that having his body so close to yours gives you. Your hands disappear underneath his shirt finally, palms spread flat on his back, his defined muscles moving underneath your fingers as his arms move to touch you all over.

Your hands slip away from him when he bends down and grips the back of your thighs, lifting you up and letting you lock your legs around his waist. You’re carried into the bedroom where you’re placed onto the bed, his body following closely after. His lips find their way back to yours immediately, open mouthed kisses and tongues sliding against each other as his body presses to yours. Before you let your fingers tangle in his hair, you find the hem of t-shirt, pulling it up to the point where he gets up on his knees to pull it over his head and throw it to the floor.

You admire his body in the low lighting, the room just barely illuminated by the still open door into the en-suite, where you’d left the light on. Before his body pushes close to yours again, you let your fingers slide over his torso, to his chest and up his neck, until they end up on each side of his face. You bring him back to you, lips meeting in another open mouthed kiss. His hands find their way underneath the hoodie that once had been his, his big palm moving over your skin as he’s hovering over you. Your eyes meet for a second before he sits back on his knees and uses both his hands to rid you of both the hoodie and the t-shirt you had on underneath. As soon as it’s off, you start the process of taking off your jeans, popping open the bottom and sliding the zipper down. William takes over, slowly pulling them off your legs one leg at the time.

With a strong arm around your waist, he manages to move you underneath the comforter, following closely after as soon as he’s ridded himself of his sweats. This time, when his lips touch yours, it’s not desperate. Your kisses are slow and soft. His hand slides down your side while his lips stay glued to yours, every emotion poured into the way he touches you and the way he kisses you. Curling your leg over his hip, you pull him closer to you – the motion has his hardened member pressing into your thigh, making you moan softly into the kiss.

While you arch into him, searching for more, his hand slides to your back, finding the clasp of your bra. You help him get the straps of your arms, and he lets your bra fall to the floor with the rest of your clothes. Rolling to the side, he slides his thigh further up between yours, making you moan against his kiss. Missing the sounds he would make in the dark on nights just like this one, you let your hand slide down his torso, moving over his abs and all the way down to his hardened member – covering the bulge with your hand, giving him a little sense of pleasure.

The sound escaping his lips, vibrating against yours, sends another wave of warmth and need through your body. Your hands on him and his bare body pressed against yours must have the same effect on him as it has on you, making him press his body even closer to yours as he deepens the kiss and his hold on you tightens. His palm covers one of your boobs, your nipple soon pinched between his thumb and pointer finger. The action has you gasping, making it possible for William to slip his tongue into your mouth again.

He’s rolling over you and kissing down your neck as his hands wander further down your body. One of his hands slip down your back and into the back of your underwear, pushing you against him while he simultaneously roll into you, making his need for you more known. One of his long fingers slip between your legs, feeling the wetness between your thighs. This has another soft moan slip from your lips, and you can feel the result of your effect on his body.

Desperation takes over and your panties are being pulled down your thighs. As soon as they’re off, he’s moving to lay between your legs, rolling his hips into yours while his lips are back on yours in a deep and open mouthed kiss that has you clenching your legs around him in the hopes of some release.

No words are being said, but he knows exactly what you need. One hand slips between your bodies, two fingers slipping inside you as he pulls his lips from yours only to continue leaving kisses down your neck and chest. He spends time on both your nipples before continuing his trail of kisses down your torso while his two fingers are sliding in and out of your soaking hole. Your fingers clench in the hair on top of his head immediately – naturally – as he finally reaches the place that needs him most right now.

His tongue slides up your slit, finding your clit expertly, as if you hadn’t been apart for six months. His lips closes around your sensitive nub and with the help of his thick fingers, your thighs are closing around his head and you’re already balancing on the edge of your climax. He knows the signs still, having memorized the unique sounds of your different moans and the way your insides clench around him, and how your body tenses before you’re about to hit your high a long time ago. He knows what the desperate but soft moan that slips from your throat means, especially when it’s combined with your fist tensing in his hair – he knows that if he pushes the tips of his fingers against your g-spot and sucks on your clit, you’ll come.

So he does, and he pushes himself up from being mostly hid underneath the blanket just in time to watch you while you’re still in it. And with his fingers still inside you, he makes it last longer, makes another couple of breathy moans fill his ears. You open your eyes and they immediately find his, and within a second his lips are on yours in an open mouthed kiss, letting you taste yourself. He leaves a trail of wet kisses down to your ear, and he listens to you gasp as he lets his fingers slide out of you.

“I could listen to you cumming all night long,” he mumbles, the first words shared between you since before you left the bathroom. His words making another breathy moan slip out of you. He kisses your jaw before he pulls back a few inches, leaning on one arm as he places a hand on the side of your cheek, brushing a few strands of hair behind your ear. “Most beautiful sound I know,” he breathes, a small smile on his lips as he watches your cheeks heat up.

You shake your head lightly with a smile tugging at the ends of your lips, sliding your arms around his neck and pulling him back down and into a deep kiss. A couple of minutes with your lips on his and you’re tugging at his boxers, pushing them as far down as you possibly could from your position under his much bigger body.

While he works on kicking off the last article of clothing keeping you apart, you curl fingers around his shaft, watching his reaction as his movements halt and he clenches his eyes shut for a second. Once he manages to get rid of his boxers, he surges forward – attaching his lips to yours. Simultaneously you spread your legs wider for him, and he takes over – replacing your hand with his. He teases your entrance with letting the head of his hardened member slide through your folds. You gasp, your mouth on his, and he slides into you fully – his hand coming to cup the side of your face again.

When you’re both accustomed to the feeling, his lips press to yours, the hand on your cheek holding you to him as he pours everything into the kiss. Once he’s ready, his fingers move down the side of your body, reaching behind your thigh and hiking it up over his hip. He starts moving, pulling out almost all the way before he pushes back in. He finds a steady rhythm, kissing you deeply while you keep your hands in his hair.

Everything contributes to the feeling of being completely full – being complete; His lips on yours, his beard softly scratching against your face, his calloused hands on your body, his grip on your thigh, his breath against you, his chest against yours. And on top of that, being with him again. Being his and him being yours. Just knowing that he still loves you like you love him.

He sits back on his knees, bringing you with him and making sure he’s still deep inside you. He grabs your leg, and you think he might put it over his shoulder, like he used do when he wanted to go a little rougher, but instead he moved it to the other side where it could join your other leg. He swallows a groan as the new position has you clenching around him, but then he slides down behind you – his arm sliding under your head as he spoons you.

He pulls the covers back over the two of you, before he’s back to gripping your thigh – this time to help you hold your leg up as he starts moving again. He buries his face into your hair and neck, lightly biting at your skin as he muffles his moans and groans. Everything about the new position feels amazing. It feels close, and so good. And it feels like love. His arms around you, the way his arms are curled under your head and over your chest, holding you so close to him – it feels like being safe. Like you’re safe for the first time in half a year. And you wonder if it feels like that for him as well, or if it feels like exact opposite.

You unclench your fist, letting go of the sheet you’ve been holding onto for dear life. Instead you reach up and curl your fingers around his hand, hoping that he’ll feel as safe as you do. He kisses your shoulder, again and again, and every time you’re filled to the brim with how much you love him. And how much you’ve missed him.

“I love you,” you breathe softly, your voice so low and airy that you’re not sure if he heard you.

But he does. He let’s go of your thigh bringing his hand up to help tilt your head towards his, pressing his lips to yours as soon as he gets the chance – stopping his movements for a couple of seconds just to kiss you; to say it back; “I love you, too, so much,” he said between two kisses.

When he pulls back from the kiss, he pushes into you with more force. He rolls over you, to the point where you’re almost on your stomach. His hand slips down your torso, and all the way until he can put two fingers on your clit, in the hope to help you closer to your climax.

“I’m so close, baby,” he almost whines, his words vibrating as he’s speaking into the skin of your shoulder.

With his fingers working on your clit, a moan is the only answer you’re able to get out. Soon, he’s burying his face into your neck and hair again, clenching his teeth as he uses the last of his energy to send you over the edge with the use of his fingers combined with his thrusts.

As soon as he feels the familiar feeling of your insides clenching and unclenching, over and over again, around him, he lets go. His body feels heavy as he’s almost on top of you. His arms give out under him, and even if he’s heavy against you, you love it. You love that he’s there, that you can feel him. You love the way his heavy breath feels against your neck, the way his chest moves against your back with every breath he takes. And you love how he kisses your shoulder when he’s gathered enough strength and willpower to push himself off you.

But as soon as you turn around, he’s putting more of his weight back on you – much like he’d done earlier that day when he came to your apartment. Nuzzling his face into your neck, pressing his lips to the junction between your neck and your shoulder. You slide your arms around him in an embrace, pressing your lips to his forehead – like you wanted to this afternoon, but felt like you couldn’t. Or felt like it wasn’t your place.

You stay like that, your arms around him, fingers tracing soothing circles on his shoulder blade, until you have to get up and use the bathroom. You can feel his cum sliding out of you and onto your thighs, and you would rather not have it on the bed.

“Mm, get up,” you murmur, pushing at his shoulder.

“What? Why?” his head shoots up, looking up at you with wide eyes.

“I have to use the bathroom, Will,” you tell him in confusion, not sure why he’d reacted that way.

“Oh, yeah,” he nods, leaning on his arm to let you slide out from under him.

It’s first when you’re sitting on the toilet of his en-suite that you realize why he reacted that way. And you bite your lip as you try to swallow the ball that’s growing in your throat and making it hard to breathe. You can’t handle more tears for today, and you’re not sure you’ve got any left.

“Hey, you okay?” his almost naked form shows up in the doorway, meeting your eye in the mirror.

He’s put on a fresh pair of boxers, and he’s leaving a pile of both your clothes and his in his laundry basket, except for your jeans and your bra, which he hangs over the edge of the bathtub. You turn towards him, nodding bravely, just hoping that he’ll take it. You step closer to him, reaching up to slide your arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug, in which he pulls you into, tightly, with his arms around your waist.

“I’m gonna stay, I promise,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his jaw before you pull back, landing back down on your feet after having stood on the tip of your toes.

You leave him in the bathroom, planning on crawling back into bed. William follows you out after turning off the light and closing the door behind him.

“Do you want something to sleep in?” he asks, stopping by the door that leads into his closet.

“Yes, please,” you smile, and the side of his lip tugs up into what you assumed he meant to be a smile. It’s forced, and his reaction earlier is still burned into your mind, sending your thoughts into a spiral.

He comes out with a pair of boxers and a big t-shirt. You pull on the boxers, and even if you have the weight of your betrayal nagging in the back of your head, you can’t help but smile to yourself at the familiarity of the fabric and the memories that comes to mind – of the first time you stayed the night and you’d spent the entire next day in a pair of his boxers and a hoodie, because neither of you wanted you to have to leave his apartment. Next, he’s helping you put on the t-shirt, pulling it over your head and letting you shove your arms into the wide sleeves.

This time, when the side of his lip is tugged up to the side, it doesn’t look forced, and he leans down to press a kiss to your cheek, before pushing you towards the bed. You climb into the middle, laying down on your back and spreading out, inviting him to press his cheek to your chest. He smiles again, fully, climbing in after you – letting his strong arms slide around your waist but stopping to hover above you. His pointer finger runs over your cheek, brushing your hair behind your ear and letting his hand stay put on the side of your face while he kisses you sweetly.

“I love you,” he says, leaning in for another kiss before you can say the words back to him. This kiss lingers, leaving you with tingling lips as he lays down, placing his head on your chest.

“I love you, too, Will,” you hum, pressing your lips to his forehead and moving your arms around him, one hand resting on his back and the other on his bicep. “So much,” you add, deciding to take every chance you could to let him know how much you really did love him. He hums back, nuzzling into your neck and then he’s asleep.

~

“I really did a number on you, didn’t I?” you mumble, his head rested on your chest as you lay back on the many pillows of his bed, your arm over his shoulder, your palm rested flat over his abs.

It’s morning again and even if he fell asleep the second he closed his eyes, you barely got an hour of sleep, your mind racing all night. His silence confirms your statement.

“You wake up every time I move, turning around or lifting your head up, looking straight at me. I could be all tangled up with you and you still didn’t wake up when I got up to pee in the middle of the night or get up to go to school. It’s like you’re just unconsciously waiting for me to leave you again,” you speak, thinking about how the man who could sleep through a hurricane woke up every time you moved more than an inch.

“I’m not doing it on purpose. I can’t help it,” he whispers after a while.

“I know,” you breathe, kissing the top of his head. He takes your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips.

“It’s just that no one has ever hurt me like you did,” he starts, and you have to clench your teeth together to stop yourself from breaking out into sobs immediately. “But then again I have never loved anyone like I love you,” he says, squeezing your hand.

After a minute of silence he turns around, finding you with glossed over eyes, and the second your eyes meet his you can’t hold back any of the tears or the sobs for another second. You’re pulled into his arms, and he lets you cry it all out.

“I wish I could take it all back,” you sob, ”I’ll do everything in my power to make you trust me again,” you add, a little bit calmer.

“I know, baby, I know you will,” he coos, threading his fingers through your hair, kissing your tear stained cheek.

[adventuringsidhe]

A Discovery of Witches Season 2 - I Have Issues With This Season!

Before anyone gets defensive, I do like this show. It’s not my favourite TV show, but I’ve been very reserved in liking a show too much after Game of Thrones. Seriously, that show ruined my way of enjoying a show forever. The last two season, whatever you felt about GOT, in terms of storytelling, it was a disaster and decisions made within it were stupid and non-sensical. But I digress (even thinking about it makes me irritated). 

A Discovery of Witches Season 2 was a long, drawn out bore fest. If I’m to sum it up, that is how it felt. There is one thing that really bothered me more than anything by the last episode and this may seem trivial but it made me dislike the main characters (which I was struggling to like throughout this whole season anyway).

Jack.

If you don’t know what I’m talking about, in season two, Diana brings a little orphan boy into her and Matthew’s tudor home, feed him and gives him a place to stay. They then go on throughout the entire season to allowing him to grow attached like family to them (we’re talking months here if not over a year). Give him education, reading, and caring for him at night when he has night terrors etc. Basically adopting him. So, why am I so bothered? Well, by the end of the season, Diana is pregnant, and their going back to the present. So they just say their goodbyes to Jack and leave.

That pissed me off so badly I can’t reconcile with them as characters. It was obvious he had grown attached to them, bonded, and basically like family, even mother and father to him, only for him to be left behind by them. I think that is pretty shitty no matter how you look at it. Whether intentional or not, they brought him into their home and treated him like their own child, but then at the last moment because they’ve to come back into the present era, they leave him. I don’t know, but I just found that whole story line a little shitty. Jack had no family and was living on the streets, stealing because he was hungry, only for this couple to give him a home and only later abandon him again. Shitty.

It honestly reminded me of that Youtube couple who adopted a child that had needs, only to ‘return’ him a while later because they couldn’t cope with him, while giving a sob story and a few tears.

I was struggling to like Matthew throughout this whole season, he acted really shitty towards Diana, which bothered me so much, and it was all played down as ‘protecting her’. Bsht. ‘But look how good he was with Jack?’ Yeah, that was the only good thing about him this season, and then made worse by his easy disconnection when they had to leave by the end of it.

I know some fans will disagree with me and excuse this behaviour because their from the future and Jack is from Tudor times, so blah blah reasons. I get it, you love these characters, but I just didn’t this season, and major flaws in their ‘good’ persona broke through which just weren’t nice at all.

So yeah, I didn’t appreciate them taking in an orphan and making him feel like family, only to abandon him at the last moment because you got to return to the future and you’re pregnant. Kinda shitty in my opinion.

Matthew - Blood Rage.

Never mentioned in the first season, and honestly - it was such a lame thing. Another vampire series where you never see the vampire’s teeth. This is getting boring and kind of childish. A series that has magic, blood, violence, sexual moments, doesn’t have vampire teeth? Boring. Sorry not sorry. The vampires in this world are boring, not scary, not even interesting. Matthew is made out to be a good vampire, who restrains himself, blah blah crap, but honestly - I have more connection to Lestat, Lois, Claudia, Blade, Stefan, Eric, Pam even Bill (William Compton) etc. Matthew though? No, he just wasn’t as good this season. They tried to make him have a ‘issue’ because of the time, etc, but I just thought he was a bit of an dick. Blood rage also was a poor excuse and given a modern plot too, with some character had blood rage, along with Marcus. Anyway, I just didn’t like him this season or the whole ‘blood rage’ excuse.

Diana.

Look, I appreciated the whole ‘’They’re not teenagers’’ thing when it came to this show, same with True Blood. I hate teenage romances or that follow teenagers around as if they have more years of experience than a 30 something. I appreciate the change of audience, the maturity, the complexity, the lived in past, all those things that come with older characters that I can relate too so much more than a teenager. Which is why I like vampire shows like True Blood, movies like Interview with the Vampire, Blade, Vampire Hunter D etc. They are fantastic, deeply complex characters with amazing stories.

Diana though...meh. I was so into the magic thing in the first season, what drew me to it, not the vampires (lost interest once I knew I wouldn’t see the teeth). However, this season, I’m so over the ‘’must protect Diana’’ thing, I just found myself nodding off in parts. She’s treated like a sacred divine being, and the only one of her kind. Those ‘’chosen one’’ stories can be intriguing in some cases like Harry Potter, who, grew over time and had complex emotions about it, and he did suffer immensely for being the ‘’one’’. Diana however, this season - is a bit of a bitch. A know it all. A little too smug. 

I’m also tired of the whole ‘’rich vampire who played a role in major historical things’’. The rich vampire who can give you the world is a nice thought, but I don’t like it all that much, it just makes it harder to buy into the whole secrecy, living in the shadows stuff. It seems everyone in Tudor times knows about Vampire, Witches and Daemons, so...a bit weird honestly.

Diana getting pregnant I knew was coming, as its apparently in the books too (not into the books, sorry). But, it’s another cliché like Twilight. Honestly, this is very similar to Twilight but their older. Yeah. And Diana has magic and apparently the most powerful being on the planet. I get that their these incredibly intertwined lovers who were destined for each other across time and space, which is all nice and everything, but Jesus....is their no one else or anything else important to them at all? I also thought it was cheap as f**k bringing Diana’s dad in at the last moment, as this emotional weight, which just didn’t do it for me at all. It’s really sad to say this but I lost all connection to Diana this season, and to their love story. It fizzled out faster than my lemonade when I leave it to sit in a warm spot.

The Other Characters

Their really wasn’t that much time with them at all to bond with. Marcus’s relationship with the auctioneer woman? That escalated quickly. Seriously, one moment their having a one night stand, to the next, he tells her all the secrets of his world and bringing her to France and meeting Ysabeau. Is he planning on staying with her forever now? Like what is going on there? No interest.

I wanted to know more about this baby born of Daemons but damn they left it so late and gave so little time and by the end it’s hard to care about everything. These stories really need to stop trying to add multiple characters and stories into a just one story. Just make one story. Not several packed into a main one. Flesh it out better, slower with other characters. 

Don’t get me wrong, I love the aesthetic of this world, the design, the beauty of it. Even the magic is interesting, to a point, if a little simple for my taste. I do appreciate what they’re trying to do, but once again the stories fall flat, the characters become distant to the audience (talking of myself, maybe others don’t feel that way), and not relatable at all. This is fantasy, and we can’t related in many ways, but their lives, choices and feelings do make it relatable. I remember watching Interview with the Vampire and seeing how much consequences Lois’ choices caused him, it was devastating because you knew Lois had to make a choice which wasn’t always right and it burdened him immensely. Even as bad as the last few seasons of True Blood were, their were heavy, heavy consequences on all the characters for everything that had happened throughout the show and all the years.

This show just felt very Twilight by this second season, and as much as Twilight is okay back in the day, now it feels outdated in terms of relationships, intimacy, toxicity, danger, and other things important to us in terms of love, romance, family and friendship. 

Another tv show I’ve been disappointed in unfortunately, like Game of Thrones, Outlander (even though the standard is still there, the story has gone off too far not for me to hold interest anymore), are but a few that I was really into and then slowly they veered off course and so did my love for them. Same with A Discovery of Witches, which is only in its 2nd season but already it feels flat.

Anyway, rant over lol! Only my opinion, you can love it or not, just a random opinion on a personal tumblr page.

[verannaca]

(One Last) Chance.

whoa, another fic?? someone better stop me

anyway, when i was writing Some Things Change, i’d had this overwhelming urge to delve further into everyone’s feelings and reactions, as disney has a tendency to half-ass human emotion?? there are consequences for actions; this is known. i wanted to explore consequences and how they’re dealt with - delving into Anna and Elsa like this isn’t something I’ve done before, but it was fun. hopefully it’s well done :’)

i’m definitely an anna fan (not just because we have the same weird name); she’s a character that helped me on a personal level when i was in a time of need. i’ve never really related to nor liked Elsa but i do try really hard to understand her perspective, and i like her more now that i’ve explored her character.

this fic is very pro Anna and Elsa! it does not favour one or the other. that said, if you are an Elsanna shipper, leave. This is strictly platonic and sisterly and i don’t want y’all fucking it up lol

Warnings - this fic contains: characters with ptsd, emotional trauma, mentions of neglect including child neglect, mentions of panic attacks, detailed anxiety attacks, mentions of severe loss/death, and details of grief. I know these warnings sometimes sound ridiculously intense compared to what the story really is, but i’d rather be overdramatic than underdramatic. (fic is about double the length of the last one, and it takes place after the events of Frozen2, so this is your spoiler warning??)

Also, I can’t believe the feedback on my last story?? i’m so pleased :’) anyway, i’ll shut up now. enjoy.

Anna had been Queen for a few weeks, but those weeks hadn't been peaceful. She had so much to say, and never the time to say it. Until, one night, it all comes out, and suddenly, Elsa is faced with a horrible reality: her sister isn't okay.

XXX

All she could hear was the sound of ice cracking and shifting. The sounds echoed throughout the ancient glacier; it was deafening. Only barely could the sound of footsteps be heard as she made her way across the ice. She knew it was too late. She was shivering; terrified— she'd never felt the cold before. Her hands were so cold, she could barely move her fingers. Her hair had turned white and her skin was beginning to frost over. Is this the end? 

She had to do this. It's what's right. It has to be. This voice had been calling her for months; it was time to find out the truth. She could've told her sister. She should have told her sister. But she was afraid of frightening her. Afraid of bringing more trouble into her life. 

That didn't work. Anna had to know these things. She had to. She couldn't function otherwise. Her anxiety wouldn't allow it. Elsa knew this, and yet, she kept another secret. 

It would've been fine—Anna was understanding. It all would have worked out, but then Elsa did the unthinkable.

She pushed Anna away. 

Again. 

That was the last time they'd seen each other. They'd fought; Anna was desperate to protect her sister, and in the heat of the moment, Elsa was unable to communicate clearly. She couldn't explain that Anna couldn't come with. That it required magic; that it was dangerous. No. If Anna knew that it was dangerous, she definitely wouldn't have let Elsa go. 

But Elsa needed answers. And now, she was alone. Unable to communicate with the living. She was freezing; dying; alone. Her guilt became overwhelming when she realised that she wasn't going to return to her sister. She had found what she was searching for, yes, but was this sacrifice worth it? 

She couldn't move. It was dark, and so cold. Her legs were frozen; the ice was spreading up her body. Her hand froze in place; with her free one, she called out her sister's name and sent her an important piece of the past. 

And then, she was gone. Frozen solid. Breathless. Dead. 

The look of horror on her face was something that could never be unseen. This wasn't supposed to happen. She promised. 

The glacier was still loud; the sounds of the ice became haunting. It was overwhelming. The voice of the siren that called to her began to fade back in, but that peaceful call turned into a scream. A loud, high-pitched scream. 

A male voice faded in; “Anna! It's okay! You're dreaming!” 

Anna’s eyes shot open and she bolted upright, gasping for air. There was a faint squeak in her voice with each breath she took. She was quickly wrapped in a tight embrace—this wasn't the first time she’d woken up like this. Kristoff had barely been sleeping these days; he'd hold her until she was asleep, then he'd watch her for hours. 

Three years they'd been together, and he'd never seen her so distraught. They talked about this recurring nightmare of hers—there were two of them, set in two different caves. 

She didn't know how she knew that Elsa suffered a similar fate that she herself did three years ago, but she knew. She knew in the moment; she felt it. She knew her sister died alone; that she'd experienced something so intense; something she could have never imagined. And Anna was devastated. It gutted her. All she wanted to do—all she'd ever tried to do was protect her sister. And she failed. 

Elsa was alive. She was okay— she'd found herself. She had decided a few weeks ago to stay in Northuldra; she felt more at home there. Anna was happy for her sister, and more than understanding. She wished her all the best, and spoke to her often. 

But what Anna always failed to mention or show was how angry she was. 

Her fiancé knew. He had to hear all of it, all the time. He wanted to listen, though. He wanted to help her cope. It was important to him. He'd always put her first; to her, he felt like the first person to truly see her. To truly see and hear Anna. 

She'd always been kept in the dark. She was always the last to know about anything and everything. It stung, badly, especially when she discovered her parents met their demise because they were searching for answers about Elsa's abilities—yet another thing that they failed to tell their youngest daughter. 

Anna wasn't selfish. The exact opposite. She put everyone else before her. Always. When they found the shipwreck; when Elsa pulled up those memories, Anna was devastated for her sister. She knew how agonising it must have felt. 

But Anna needed care, too. Those were her parents, too. And their last thoughts; their last exchange was about Elsa. 

It hurt. It hurt more than she would've liked. And even after such a tragic discovery, Anna couldn't resonate with her sister. No, Elsa had to push her away, and Anna found herself alone again. 

And god, was she angry. She had never been so angry. 

How could she be left alone? After everything? Why would Elsa do such a thing?

It was in that cave that Anna hit her low. The lowest she had ever felt. She'd never felt so helpless; so pained. She was reprocessing the loss of her parents; she was trying to not be angry at them, but it was difficult. They left her with nothing. Then, she had to process the loss of Elsa. Her sister; her universe; her other half. The only person that mattered. And that thought hurt her in a different way. What about Kristoff? He mattered; he was her best friend, and she left him behind. And Olaf—the only good thing from her childhood; her last beacon of hope and light was gone. Because of Elsa's decisions. 

Anger. A high level of anger that she couldn't seem to get past. 

To add to it? She had no home to return to. She knew she had to break the dam; she knew her kingdom would most likely be wiped out. 

She cried alone in that cave all night. She clung on tight to the satchel that contained her mother's scarf and what remained of her frozen friend, and she cried. She grieved. She may have slept at some point, but her dreams seemed to fade into reality. Nothing felt real. Nothing felt right. 

And it was in that cave that Anna realised: she was worth fighting for. Yes; Anna was valid. Anna was worthy. Anna would be okay in time. She was more than a spare. She had to see that for herself. She had to stand for herself; trying to put motivation behind destroying her home was impossible. She couldn't get up for that. 

No. She had to get up for Anna. Because Anna deserved better. 

And so, she did. It was too much to handle at times; she fell over her own feet as she struggled to step. But she managed. She found her way out of the cave and tried to do the next right thing. 

She never told Kristoff that she had contemplated her life. He didn't need to know. She was reckless; challenging death. She needed to see how close she could get. It was when she almost didn't stick the landing as she leaped off the falling dam that she realised she didn't want to die. 

Mattias had saved her. And then, she was safe in her lover's arms. 

Just as she was right now. In her bed, in her bedroom, in the home that wasn't destroyed, being held by the person she loved the most, and although her heart was beating too fast and her palms were sweaty, she did feel safe. 

It was just a nightmare. 

They stayed in silence for a while; they'd already discussed these events to the point where Kristoff was beginning to have the same nightmares. But his were about Anna being alone in that cave. He loved Elsa, truly, but he knew Anna was the one who had really suffered. 

So, he held her. He held her until she fell asleep, then he laid her down and held her until the sun came up. 

It was Friday. Kristoff had guided Anna through the morning and early afternoon; he was worried about her well-being. They'd agreed to be completely open with each other, and Anna was able to talk about her deepest darkest feelings, fears, and secrets, and not feel like prey. Elsa was coming that evening for their typical weekly catch-up and game night. The first few times, Anna had been excited to see her sister. They both had so much to share. But Anna was tired now, and Elsa was a reminder of her pain. 

She didn't let it affect their evening. She wouldn't ever dream of making Elsa feel anything negative. She understood. 

But sometimes, she wished Elsa paid more attention to her feelings. She wished her sister could be as loving as attentive as Anna was for her. Sadly, that just wasn't the case. 

It had been storming all day, typical for this time of year. Anna and Kristoff had met Elsa just outside the gates, as they usually did. She greeted them both with pleasant hugs and greetings, excited to see them. Time flew by for her in the forest; the weeks felt like they lasted only a day. 

It was during their reunion that Elsa made a quick comment; “let's get you both inside before you freeze to death!” 

It was a half-hearted joke; a casual comment; completely harmless. Kristoff only noticed enough to chuckle; he and Anna were definitely cold, while Elsa wasn't even wearing proper shoes. The cold truly didn't bother her. 

Anna wasn't so amused. In fact, the comment triggered something in her brain that made her scowl at her sister. Elsa was oblivious as she made her way to the castle, linking arms with the new queen as she walked. Anna forced a smile and went alongside her—now is not the time for a fight. It was just a comment; it was harmless. 

It was careless. 

As they'd began to warm up and make their way down the great hall, a light conversation had begun, though Anna barely said a word. 

Freeze to death. 

She pictured Elsa alone in that cave, turning to ice as life left her body. She pictured herself fighting through a nasty storm before she too froze solid. It sent a shiver down her spine. She could still feel that cold, even after three years. She remembered the sensation in her chest as she began to froze; she felt the ice burst in her heart before the world went black.

There was nothing funny or casual about freezing to death. 

“Are you going to talk to me, or are we already playing charades?” 

Another joke. It was light; pleasant. Anna looked at her sister, who had a warm gaze in her eyes, and a light smile across her face. But that smile faded when she felt the chill in Anna's stare. They slowly stopped walking and stood still, staring at each other. 

“Is everything all right?” Elsa was concerned—she’d realised then just how exhausted her little sister looked. She was beautiful and made-up; her rich auburn hair was neatly tied in a bun, and although she wore no makeup (she never did), her eyes did seem bright and alert. But they were also very tired. Elsa tried to keep the mood light; “it's exhausting being queen, isn't it?” 

Anna forced a smile; “it's not as bad as I thought it would be, but yes. The days are long, and the night's longer.” 

They slowly picked up pace again. Kristoff stayed on Elsa's left side; Anna on her right. He’d remained silent to give them a chance to communicate, though he knew how to read his fiancée, and could tell how tense she was. 

“You do get used to it,” Elsa replied, placing her hand on Anna's. Their arms were still linked. 

Anna side-eyed her sister. She had so much to say, but mentally talked herself out of it each time. It would be so much easier if I didn't love you so damn much. She knew Elsa meant well, and she knew Elsa had suffered much on her own. That didn't change how Anna felt overall, but it kept her from saying something she'd regret. “I think we should keep things simple tonight,” she chimed in. “Maybe cut the evening a bit shorter than usual.” 

Elsa didn't seem fond of the idea, but she also didn't want to intrude. “We can definitely play it by ear, if you like. I have nowhere to be; this is our night.” She pulled Anna a bit closer, tightening her grip around the younger woman's arm. 

Anna pulled her arm back, though, to Elsa's surprise. The redhead instead crossed her arms over her stomach and kept her gaze away from her sister's direction. 

Elsa wasn't a people person, but she knew body language—especially this particular stance. She grew worried. “Are you sure everything's all right?” she prompted, walking close beside the queen. 

Anna nodded distantly, then looked at Kristoff. She took a breath and said, “I have some things to do that I forgot about earlier. Would you please escort my sister to her chambers for the evening?” 

Elsa was quite taken aback. She knew how mature and capable her sister was, but Anna never spoke like a queen when it was just the three of them. Why would she? The blonde looked up at her soon-to-be brother-in-law with a questioning gaze—they exchanged a look for a brief second before he nodded at Anna; “of course.” 

As the redhead began to head off, Elsa gave chase. She took Anna's arm and turned her around so they were facing each other; it wasn't aggressive, but was full of worry. “What's up with you? I'm worried.” 

Anna almost laughed, but she contained herself. “I’m fine,” she said simply. “But I have duties to tend to.” 

She tried to walk away, but Elsa held her tight, desperate for an explanation. “Hey, wait. We promised to communicate, right? Talk to me. Please.” 

Anna raised a brow. Don't be mean, she thought to herself. Even to your sister. But her control was lacking. “You...want me to let you in now? Isn't it a bit late for that?” 

Elsa—and Kristoff—could hear the sting in her voice. “Anna—” 

“You expect me to drop what I'm doing just for you?” She hissed. It was accidental; her tone. She wasn't a mean person; she wasn't rude. But her anger was rising. 

Elsa looked hurt, though her surprise outweighed her pain. “I'm sorry for whatever I did—” 

Laughter. Anna took her arms back; “what you did? Jesus, Elsa, where do I even start.”  

“Anna, maybe we should take a break,” Kristoff suggested, stepping in. 

The sisters both replied with a mutual, “no, no,” but Anna's was a lot harsher than Elsa's. 

“Should we start with the same old bullshit?” 

“Anna—” 

“Or is that history now? Yeah, I suppose we can bury thirteen-years of pain with three-years of companionship. That balances out beautifully. Oh, and how about recent events? That voice that you failed to tell me about? Or maybe that fact that we saw our parents last moments and it was all about you?” 

Elsa had crossed her arms by this point; shoulders raised. Her eyes teared up more as Anna’s voice got louder. Kristoff stayed silent. She needed this. 

“I suppose we also shouldn't then mention that I buried them alone! That they were my parents, too! That I'm not just your spare! But that'd be too much, right?” 

Anna took a step closer to Elsa; her heels against Elsa's flats made them the same height, and they were able to make direct eye contact. 

“You manipulated my love. You wouldn't stop for five fucking minutes to explain what was going on. I needed you just as much as you needed me. And how did you care for me? You pushed me away. Again.” 

“I had to.” Her voice was soft; broken. She was pained—she hadn't seen Anna like this before. Ever. It killed her. Did she really make her suffer alone? How could sweet, happy, bubbly Anna be depressed? Anxious? Lonely? 

“I know you think you did,” her voice was stern, but shaky. A tear managed to escape her eye and run down her freckled cheek. “But you have no idea what you put me through.” She didn't mean to yell; “I thought I had lost EVERYTHING.” 

Elsa winced at the volume, but kept her stance. 

“I had nothing. And you LEFT me ALONE, Elsa! The last time we'd spoken, we fought. That goodbye-hug lost all meaning after you'd forced us into that boat! I was so ANGRY! And not once—not ONCE did you ask if I was okay.” 

“Gods, Anna, I—” 

“NO.” The redhead held up a stern finger, silencing the older woman. “It's my turn. You shut up.” 

“Anna.” Kristoff's voice was gentle and understanding. It grounded her. Pulled her back to reality just enough to make her aware of her words. 

The queen took a deep breath; her finger curling in as she made a fist. She let out a shaky breath, not breaking eye contact with those glossy, ice-blue eyes. “My parents died. I was alone. You were all I had, and I didn't even know what you looked like. I tried so hard to be strong, but that was a darkness I never thought I'd get out of. And then...” she trailed slightly, anger turning to pain. “When I was alone. In that cave. After watching and hearing our parent’s final moments; Olaf, the only friend I had left—because I never thought I’d see Kristoff again after I left him to follow you... He flurried away. I watched him die. I held him as he died, Elsa. And he was all I had left—of my childhood, of my home, of you. And you were gone. Just like mama and papa; you left and were to never return. I thought Arendelle was gone. The dam had to be broken; I couldn't have ever imagined that you would've saved it.” 

Elsa let out a soft, shaky breath. “You had nothing.” 

Anna nodded ever so slightly, pursing her lips to hold back her tears. Her voice was barely a whisper; “nothing.” 

The blonde lost her gaze as she became aware of her tears. She quickly wiped them away, holding her hands over her mouth as she stared at her sister. 

Anna couldn't decide if she felt better. She'd said almost everything that she needed to say. She looked deep into Elsa's eyes, not wanting a response just yet. She wanted her to think. “No matter what, Elsa,” she said softly, “I love you.” 

After a brief moment, the queen turned and walked away. Elsa and Kristoff watched her go, and although the older sister tried to follow, Kristoff held her back. “Give her space,” he said gently. “Let her breathe.” 

Elsa looked up at her friend; “did I say something wrong? Tonight? To trigger this?” 

He shrugged lightly. “Maybe. Maybe it was that comment about us freezing. She's been delicate lately.”

Of course. It had to have been that comment. Elsa placed her hand flat against her stomach as she felt it churn. “I have to talk to her. I have to make it right.” 

“With all due respect,” Kristoff began, holding her attention to keep her from following Anna; “whether it's fair to anyone or not, there is thirteen—maybe even sixteen years’ worth of damage that has to be fixed. Anna loves you more than anything; she'd be willing if you are, but above all else, you have to remember that her feelings are valid.” 

Elsa nodded, though she was rather lost in thought. All those years, she thought she was suffering alone. She thought Anna was being cared for; loved. But she wasn't? She was alone? 

They worked. Their parents worked. They were royals, sure, but they were also dealing with Elsa's magic. Who raised Anna? Who taught her to be queen? Did she truly only have the portraits on the walls to talk to? Was she really neglected for all those years?

It hurt. It hurt more than anything. Elsa brushed away the original plan of a game night—that could wait. Fixing their family was far more important. She knew she had to give it time; she knew she had to think. Things wouldn't be resolved tonight, but she could start the process. She could prove to Anna that she cared. And they'd work at it again next week. And the week after. And Elsa could visit more often. This could work. This could be okay. 

Right? 

XXXXX 

Game night didn't happen. They didn't even have dinner together. Anna had locked herself in her room; something that made Elsa's blood run cold. She'd knocked only twice over the course of four hours, desperate to be acknowledged, but the queen had no interest. She had more to say, but kept her words simple; “go away, Elsa.” 

It wasn't meant as revenge. Anna wasn't trying to be petty. She just needed time. How much time; she had no idea. But at this rate, no conversation was going to take place before the end of the day. It was already long past sunset; the outside world was dark, cold, and quiet. A perfect place for Elsa to think. 

She'd seen Anna open the door for Kristoff; the two disappeared into their chambers a couple of hours ago. Elsa wasn't one to eavesdrop, despite how desperate she was to talk. She couldn't bear to pace around the halls of this massive castle; so, she went outside. She’d made her way down to the water, sitting on the large rocks, watching the gentle waves. Snow was falling rather heavily; the temperature well into the negatives. Her dress was of her own creation, though a new design; her shoulders and arms were entirely bare, alongside a lot of her chest and most of her back. Her hair was still white from the events that took place in Ahtohallan, but it was a small change from the platinum-ash blonde it was before. Despite her thin attire, she wasn't cold in the least. She was shivering, but that was caused by the emotion she was struggling to hold. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, but her cries were silent. 

She loved Anna. More than anyone, or anything. She thought it was obvious. She'd always gone out of her way to make sure Anna's happiness was number one. What she'd failed to realise was that Anna had emotions other than joy. The redhead had always been a little ball of sunshine; Elsa wholeheartedly believed that nothing could dim that light. To find out Anna had been in pain for sixteen years of her twenty-one years of life... 

Agony. It was agonising. Like losing someone you love. Elsa pressed her hands hard into her stomach in an unconscious attempt to stop the pain she was feeling. She still hadn't learned how to handle emotion—she was shut off from humanity for so long, she forgot what it felt like to be human. To just...exist. Anna kept her grounded; kept her real. 

But that whole time that Anna was caring for her, she herself was in pain. She pushed her own feelings aside to care for Elsa, and the blonde had never noticed. She knew Anna was selfless, even before the at-the-time princess sacrificed her life for the sake of her sister and her kingdom. But this was on another level. This was nearly two decades of suffering that she endured for Elsa. 

A sob escaped her throat so suddenly, it startled her. She shrieked and jumped in response, slowly crawling off the rocks and onto the snow-covered ground as she let herself sob freely. She’d hoped that the snow would muffle her cries; the last thing she needed was someone coming to check on her. No one ever checked on Anna. 

The pain of those long years came rushing back. Oh, how badly she wanted to throw open that door and hug her sister. How badly she wanted to sing back to her; to tell her jokes and teach her and love her and tease her. She wanted to grow up with her, and that was stolen from them. She wasn't allowed to be the big sister she'd always dreamed of being. She wasn’t allowed to hold her best friend. They weren't allowed to discover the world together. They never got to roam the kingdom in their teen years and gossip about romantic interests. They never got to explore too far and get in trouble for it. They never got to laugh, or fight, or sing—they didn't see each other. They were strangers. 

And then, suddenly, they were together again. And just as quickly as that, they were apart. That pattern seemed to continue. 

Elsa thought heavily about their relationship; she tried to find the flaws on her side; things that she could control. She’d noticed a pattern of her own; it seemed that every time Anna tried to communicate with her, Elsa ran in one way or another. To Elsa, this was a simple defence mechanism—it was hard for her to communicate. Often times, she needed to take what was said and think on it before she could reply fairly. But to Anna, it was the same story: she was being shut out. 

Elsa realised that she had to work hard to be different for Anna. Not to disregard her own feelings or history, but to meet her sister in the middle. You gave up so much for me; surely, I can sacrifice a few boundaries for you. I can learn for you, Anna. 

She stared blankly across the fjord, though her view was obstructed by her tears and the falling snow. She brought a shaky hand up to her eyes to wipe them as dry as she could; she was a bit surprised that the tears weren't frozen. She'd never truly understood how her power worked; even after her discoveries and the comfort she found within herself, it was still difficult to understand something so otherworldly. 

Anna never struggled to understand. Not once. Their problems were never based around Elsa's powers; when they fought, Anna didn't care about the temperature in the room. She didn't care if the windows frosted over. She wasn't afraid of her sister; Elsa's magic was just a part of who she is. It was that unconditional love and treatment that truly helped Elsa come to terms with herself. Hearing a similar message from her mother only added to that. 

But now, she had complicated feelings towards her parents. If they neglected Anna, how could Elsa forgive them for that? 

They were only human. They did their best with what they had. They tried. 

And they're gone. That’s a history that can't be fixed. And most importantly, that isn't Elsa's responsibility. No; she has her own damage to fix. She can only control herself. And now, she had to make the first move. 

XXXXX 

She’d cleaned up a bit. She had to gather her thoughts. It was hard; finding the courage was so hard. She got a rush of anxiety every time she thought about knocking on that door again—being rejected by the person who had constantly tried to reach her hurt on a whole other level. What have I done? 

She sighed and shook her head. “No. You can fix this,” she said quietly to herself. Verbal reassurance had always been more helpful for her. It pulled her out of her head, and eased her anxiety just a smidge. “Just talk to her. She needs you. You can do this, Elsa.” 

A knock came at her bedroom door. Elsa turned, surprised; she called a delicate, “come in.” 

A moment passed, then the door swung open and Anna stepped in. Elsa felt her heart leap into her throat, and simultaneously, her stomach dropped. Yet again, she failed to make the first move. “Anna. I was just coming to see you.” 

The redhead seemed surprised, but it was gentle. “You were?” 

Elsa nodded and gently hugged herself; “I mean, I was trying to find the courage to come and see you.” It was difficult to admit for some reason. 

Anna smiled ever so slightly as she shut the door behind her. “Well,” she took a few steps closer and gently crossed her arms for comfort. “Beat you to it,” she half joked. She had changed into her nightgown; her auburn hair fell loosely in an elegant flow half-way down her back. 

“Again,” Elsa said softly, defeated. “I'm s—” 

“I'm tired of apologies,” Anna interrupted, voice still quiet. She’d failed to make eye contact as she spoke. “Words have lost meaning over the years. Certain words, at least.” 

Elsa nodded distantly. She didn't know if she should speak, or listen. 

Anna took a breath then looked at her sister, also defeated. “I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I've never lost myself like that before,” her voice faded out a bit on that last part. “I didn't mean to raise my voice; it was immature, and I'll make sure it doesn't happen again—” 

“No.” 

The queen tilted her head, slightly taken aback. Elsa's voice was stern. It surprised her. “No?” 

The blonde moved closer, expression showing her desperation. “No, it will happen again, and that's okay. You have every right to be upset and you should never apologise for being human.” 

Anna smiled lightly again. Those words were extra important coming from Elsa. “I just don't want to hurt you.” 

“Your honesty will never hurt me, Anna,” she replied. “That isn't for you to worry about, anyways. You've got to speak up for yourself. Always. Even against me. I want us to be able to talk—gods, I want us to be able to fight and make up as sisters do.” She paused, then continued when Anna said nothing. “Things don't have to be perfect all the time. And things aren't going to fall apart if we have a falling out. We have to learn.” 

Anna’s gaze fell as defeat rushed over her again, and Elsa noticed. It sent her into a panic, but she tried to contain it. Did she say something wrong? Is she missing something? What does Anna need? Is it ruined? Is it over? Anna's going to tell her to leave and they're never going to speak again? No, she wouldn't do that. Would she? If she decides she deserves better; if she decides that— 

Elsa was ripped out of her thoughts when she was wrapped in a tight embrace. Her arms instinctively wrapped around her sister and they held each other close, relaxing. 

“I have spent my entire life petrified that I'm going to lose those that I love, and that's all that seems to happen.” 

Her voice was so delicate and pain-filled that it made Elsa's tears quickly return. She tightened her grip around Anna's petite frame, and buried her face in the crease of her warm, freckled neck. 

Anna stared blankly towards the wall. It still felt weird to be in this room; to be on this side of the door. The weirdest part was that there was someone in that room all along; she hadn't spent those years just talking to a door. There was another lonely little girl on the other side, who lived to hear the voice of her baby sister. 

Anna tightened her grip, too. Tears welled in her eyes, but she swallowed them as best she could. “You were my light, too. The only thing I lived for. The thought of someday meeting you was all that got me through those lonely nights.” 

Elsa’s fingers curled in as she grabbed at Anna's hair and clothes; she tried to contain her emotions, but couldn't, and cried on her sister's shoulder. 

Anna felt her move in her arms; she knew she was crying. It made tears escape her eyes, too. “I know you're broken. I know you've been through hell, too. I just wish we could walk through the flames together.” 

Elsa nodded; “we will.” Her voice was broken and weak; she sounded nasally due to her crying. She held Anna even tighter, if that were even possible. “We will always do this together, Anna, I swear. I'll never leave you behind again.” 

Anna wanted to smile at the thought, but couldn't. How could she believe such promises? The first day they'd spent together, Elsa said the same thing. Together. Then again as they travelled to the forest. Then again as they—

“Prove it.” 

A beat passed, then they mutually pulled out of the embrace. Elsa kept a hold on Anna's upper arms, but the redhead took her own hands back and crossed her arms again. They looked at each other with tears eyes; cheeks red and puffy. Elsa looked genuinely upset, whilst Anna almost looked betrayed; broken and distrusting. 

“Prove it,” the queen repeated. “Don't just say it.” 

Elsa nodded distantly; “I will. But—” 

“No buts.” She shook her head, clearly unimpressed. She wanted to be understanding. She wanted to be soft. But she couldn't let herself. Not this time. “I know you're learning, Elsa, we both are. We've had the same amount of contact with people; the same amount of practice. But I'm not a stranger. I'm not someone you met on the street; I'm your sister. And I know we grew up apart and we have much to learn about each other, but we spent the first five years of my life together, and I want us to be close again. And I know it's not realistic—we were young, but we could still—” 

“Anna.” 

The queen stopped. She’d started rambling. She did that sometimes. It was very Anna. She smiled sheepishly; “sorry; I get carried away.” 

Elsa smiled warmly; “I want us to be close, too.” She thought for a beat, then when they made eye contact again, she continued; “I am sorry; truly. I had no idea. There are so many things that I wish I had done differently; for both of us. I wish I could take all your pain and turn it into something beautiful for you. I wish you hadn't spent so long alone— I'm so sorry for the consequences. For your anxiety and your depression and your fear of abandonment—for everything that affects your daily life, I am so sorry.” 

“You get it,” Anna replied quietly, offering a weak, lop-sided shrug. “You get it because you feel the same in some way. We could understand each other. We could help each other. But I'm so afraid to talk to you sometimes; I'm so afraid that you're gonna shut me out again that I almost don't want to get close to you. I can't handle any more pain. I just can't.” 

Her heart broke again. Anna was right about one thing: they do understand each other. That was one thing that really bothered Elsa, was knowing that the pain she'd always felt; the pain she'd always tried to protect Anna from had been there all along. They really were in the same boat. Elsa gently ran her hands up and down Anna's upper arms, then took a tight hold of her. She looked deep into her aqua eyes; “Anna.” 

The redhead sniffled. She knew what words were coming; she'd heard it all before. It was different this time. Elsa was trying. Elsa heard her, and saw her, and accepted her. That’s a step. But was Anna really willing to give her another chance? 

“I promise from now on we will do this together.” 

Each word was fully pronounced; her tone was stern; she was serious. 

“We will work through this together.” 

One more chance to make things right. It was only fair; Anna herself had been lacking at communicating, too. It was a mutual ordeal. This chance would be for them both. 

“Are you willing to try? To work at it? To truly let each other in?” 

It would be a lifelong healing process. Or so she figured. There was too much history, and surely the future would only be busier. Anna was queen now; she did have duties to tend to. And, she was engaged. She was soon going to be a queen and a wife. She saw children in her future; her near future. It was easy to picture; life with Kristoff was more than ideal; they had incredible communication skills following their engagement. They’d sat down and talked out everything. They were always on the same page, even if they sometimes had disagreements. 

A queen. A wife. A mother. A sister? 

Could she handle all of those responsibilities? Was she ready? She was only twenty-one. Her future without Elsa looked easy, as much as that pained her. It felt easy; the idea of moving on. Building her own family and her own legacy. She was Arendelle's hero; this was her forever home. Did Elsa have a place in Anna's future? Elsa made it clear that Anna had a place in hers. Was that mutual?

The queen looked at her sister, and Elsa looked back at her, awaiting an answer. 

Are you willing to try? 

Anna smiled warmly. “Of course.” 

[blu-joons]

Telling Him You Have An Eating Disorder ~ Kim Taehyung

The slam of the front door bought a wide smile to your face as you glanced back and saw Taehyung. He dropped his bag, opening his arms wide for you.

“Hey baby,” he smiled, catching you as you leapt up. His arms wrapped around you, but unlike usual he could wrap his arms the full way around you, clasping his hands together.

“How was tour?” You asked, peppering kisses all over his cheek.

He hummed, pulling back to study your face, quick to notice your prominent jaw, your smaller cheeks. “It was really good. But how have you been, have you been looking after yourself?”

“Yeah, of course.” You forced a smile but Taehyung knew, he dropped you to the ground, taking you over to the sofa.

“You haven’t, have you?” You shrugged your shoulders, a small yawn escaping.

You sighed, staring across at his eyes. He wasn’t wrong, you’d skipped a few meals when you’d just forgotten to eat, and not slept many hours, but it was just where you had been so busy.

“I’m just a little bit stressed so sometimes I end up missing tea or not having breakfast, it’s no big deal Tae, I’m absolutely fine.”

“You’re not fine jagi, I can tell just by looking at you that things are not okay, so just tell me the truth.”

Tears were brimming in your eyes as Taehyung took your hand in his. “I promise I’m telling the truth, it’s just been a big stressful with you not around.”

“When was the last time you ate?”

“I don’t know.” That wasn’t a lie, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d eaten, you knew it was a few days, but you couldn’t remember the precise number.

Taehyung sighed, brushing his hand through your hair. “I can’t believe you’ve done this to yourself. Come on, we are going to go out and buy you all the food you need to make you healthy again.”

Before you even had chance to respond he had pulled you up and put a pair of trainers on your feet, lacing your hand in his.

The two of you headed to the nearby convenience store, it was only a few minutes from your home, and perfect for Tae to get the ingredients to make you some proper food.

“Right, I want you to put anything into the basket that takes your fancy, my treat.” You nodded, scanning the fruit aisle first, reluctantly putting in a few apples and bananas.

The bright lights of the shop coupled with the loud music they played gave you a strong headache. You glanced back at Taehyung, feeling your muscles aching, struggling to keep your head up.

“Baby, you okay?” He called out noticing your face drop, but before he could get a response out of you, you collapsed to the floor, the food you had in your hands falling with you.

He dropped the basket, running over to you, feeling desperately for a pulse. Once he knew you were breathing he rolled you over with the help of a few passers by.

An ambulance was called at Taehyung’s request, this was becoming far more serious than even he could handle. Your skin was pale and delicate, as his hand brushed over it he could feel your fragility.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.

You were transported safely to the hospital, with Taehyung by your side. He didn’t leave the whole time as he waited for you to wake up. He was terrified at how serious this had become, he couldn’t believe you’d kept so much from him.

Slowly, a few minutes later your eyes fluttered open, heart racing as you tried to see where you were. A familiar hold in your hand soon comforted you as you glanced across at Taehyung. “What happened?”

“You fainted,” he sighed, “because you’ve not been looking after yourself.”

He didn’t want to be mad, he cared for you immensely, but his head couldn’t wrap around how careless you had been.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise how stressed I was.”

“Stop it,” he pleaded, “stop with the lies. This is so much more than a little bit of stress. This is serious, and you’re not being serious. Tell me the truth, because I don’t know how more of this I can take?”

“What do you mean?” You whispered, staring down at your lap, unable to bring yourself to look at him any longer.

“I mean if you don’t tell me the truth then I don’t think we can be together. Our relationship is built on trust, and if that’s not something you can give, then I don’t see us working.”

Your jaw dropped, shaking your head. You couldn’t lie to him any longer, you couldn’t lose him, he was the only thing that kept you together.

“Fine,” you sighed, “I’ll tell you what’s really been going on.”

He sat up, looking at you, paying close attention to your every word.

“I’ve been struggling with an eating disorder, for years, I thought I had it under control, but not having you around for the past month affected me badly, and things got worse, and I just ended up not eating because it was my only way to cope with not having you around.”

By the time you finished speaking, tears streamed down your face, Taehyung leant forwards and kissed them all away.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry you’ve had to go through this. I had no idea...gosh, if I’d have known I wouldn’t have been so horrible to you.”

“You weren’t to know.” You smiled. “I was scared how you would react so I thought it would be easier just to keep it to myself.”

He moved over, sitting beside you on your bed, pulling you into him. “Don’t ever keep things from me, I only want what’s best for you. I promise from now on I’m going to look after you.”

“It’s going to take a lot of work this time around.”

“I don’t care,” he assured you, “I’ll do anything to help get rid of your demons and get you healthy again. Whatever I can do, I’m here for you.”

His hand laced in with yours, a soft kiss being placed to your head. It began to all make sense for him, the days you told him you didn’t feel like eating, or when you’d refuse to eat half your tea, he understood.

“Why don’t you get some rest for a while? They’ll probably bring you some food or something soon, kickstart getting you back to your usual self.”

“Will you lay with me?” You asked, making a bit more room for him beside you. “I need to know you’re here right now.”

“Of course I will. I’m not going anywhere, not now, not ever. I love you, every single part of you.”

“I love you too,” you mumbled, cuddling up into his chest, eyes fluttering shut as you felt his lips rest to the top of your head. 

---

Masterlist

[tropicalsuki]

Ugly Needs (pt. 2) - Billy Hargrove x Hopper!reader

I got over 15 requests for part two, so here we are! Thank you so so much for all the love! 

original request: “One where the reader is Hopper’s daughter and dating Billy, and he starts getting abusive? Like maybe it starts with her coming home and him and El notice the bruise/s but she lies and then EI, and Max and the rest of the gang figure it out and try to help her bc she’s in denial bc she loves him. I was just thinking some girl power and maybe some protective Hopper haha” - anon

warnings: fem pronouns, language, discussion of abuse, bad coping strategies, underage drinking, making out

word count: 3,112

A/N: back for part two!!! There’s gonna be more overprotective Hop and bonding between the reader and El in this part. Hope you all love it!

PART ONE

--------

You fell asleep curled up on the couch in your dad’s arms. 

And when you woke up, he was gone. El was sitting on the chair across from you, watching you sleep. 

“Where’s Dad?” you asked groggily, sitting up. You looked around to see Max asleep on the floor by your side. 

“Billy,” El answered simply, 

“Why would he be at Billy’s?” you were confused for a brief moment before the events of last night all came back to you like a tidal wave, and you were immediately wide awake, “What? No, I told him not to hurt Billy. I told him no!” 

“But he deserves it.” El frowned.

“No, you don’t understand... it’ll only make things worse!”

Your panicked voice woke up Max and she sat up, yawning, “what’s worse?”

You ignored her and started towards the front door but El turned the locks as soon as you grabbed the handle. 

“El-” you started but she shook her head, “Hop said you stay home.”

“Fuck what Hop says!” you said angrily and yanked on the door but it was no use. You pressed your back against the door and sunk to the floor, burying your head in your hands. You felt lightheaded and scared; scared of what Billy might do when you see him next; scared of moving forward without him. 

Max glanced over at El before going and sitting next to you, taking a deep breath before speaking, “I know what it’s like. I've lived with Billy for a long time, and I know what it’s like. But once I found help, and new people to surround myself with, things got better. You’re not alone.”

You slowly lifted your head and looked at her, “but I am alone. It’s different. He... he’s done different things to me. And I don’t know how I can separate myself from him after that... I don’t know if I want to.”

“I’m trying to understand why you don’t hate him, but I just can’t!” Max huffed. 

“I don’t know how to explain it. He’s just been such a big part of my life for the past year and I really do believe he’s struggling with something. He needs me, and I love him,” you tried to explain. 

“But does he love you?” El asked from across the room.

You had to think about that. Billy said he loved you, but now you weren’t sure he really meant it, “I don’t know.”

“If it’s not too soon to talk about it, when did this all start? The hitting?” Max prodded gently

You let out a shaky breath, “It didn’t start with hitting. About two months ago he stopped taking no for an answer and would pester me until I gave in to what he wanted... but then it turned into him getting angry over every little thing I did wrong. I was on eggshells around him.”

Max didn’t know what else to say, so she just hugged you, her thin arms wrapped around your shoulders. You leaned into it, needing the girl’s comfort. You knew Max was the only one of the group who had any idea what you were going through. 

You heard a car pull up outside and you sighed. “I don’t want to talk to him right now. Tell him I’m asleep,” You stood up and started towards your room, shutting the door behind you just as the front door opened. 

Hopper walked inside and looked at Max and El before going over to the sink and washing some blood off his hands. 

“How bad did you hurt him?” Max asked, a frown of her face. 

“Just enough to get the point across... where’s Y/n?” Hopper responded, grabbing the dish towel and drying off his hands. 

“Asleep,” El said. 

Hopper just nodded, “good she needs it.”

You stayed in your room for the rest of the day, listening to music and barely leaving your bed. 

It was the same routine the next day, but Hopper didn’t press you, knowing you needed to work some things through. He came in the evening and knocked lightly on the door, “hey, kiddo?”

“Yeah?” you called, your voice muffled by the blanket. 

Hopper poked his head in with a worried expression, “your sister is at Mike’s house with her friends, and I just got a call I need to go handle. Are you ok to be by yourself?” 

“I’ll be fine,” you assured, sitting up in your bed. 

Your dad nodded, “OK. Dinner is in the microwave; I’ll be home in an hour.”

You watched as he disappeared from your doorway and waited for the sound of the front door shutting before you got up and started towards the kitchen. You were starving, but all there was were a few TV dinners that you couldn’t force yourself to eat. About to give up and head back to your room, a shiny bottle poking out of a cabinet caught your eye and stopped you dead in your tracks.

You knew what it was, and you knew you should stay away, but your body ignored those thoughts and reached over, pulling the vodka off the shelf. Hopper would be pissed if he found out you drank his stash, but who said he had to find out? 

Plus it was for a good reason, you told yourself, you needed it. 

You popped off the cork and started back towards your room. Dropping down on the floor with your back against the bedframe, you took a large swig from the bottle, enjoying the burn that came with it. 

It wasn’t your first time drinking. Far from it. But it was your first time drinking to forget. 

You crawled over to your record player and put on your old Pink Floyd album, disappearing into the sound. You drank nearly half the bottle and swayed around, completely forgetting why you were upset in the first place. 

The buzz of the alcohol took over you, and all you could think about was how good you felt... and how much you wanted his kiss Billy. What was stopping you from calling him right now? Nothing, that’s what. You stumbled over to the phone and dialed his number, twirling the cord around your finger as you waited. 

“Hello?”

His voice made you grin, “hiiiii, Billy! Can you come over? My family isn’t home and I just want to kiss you so fucking badly,” you said into the phone, giggling to yourself. 

The other end was silent.

“Billy? Are you there?” you asked with a hiccup. 

You heard the line cut off. Billy hung up on you. But you didn’t seem to mind too much, dropping the phone with a shrug and dancing back into your room, laughing as you fell onto the carpet. 

Reaching for the bottle, you downed a bit more, feeling another wave of bliss wash over you like a warm blanket. You heard a voice from the living room calling your name. 

“Billy?” you asked hopefully, but the face that appeared in the doorway was that of your father’s. Had it been an hour already?

“Daadd! Hi!” you grinned, attempting to get up but falling against El’s bed and giggling. 

“Y/n, what the hell did you do?” Hopper demanded, taking the bottle from your hand. It may have just been the blur in your vision, but his face looked as red as fire. 

“I had a drink,” you replied and your dad laughed incredulously, “yeah, I can see that. You’re in deep shit.”  

“Why? I just had like... one sip,” you said but the slur in your words made your lie obvious. 

“I can’t fucking believe you, Y/n. I leave you alone for an hour and this is what you do,” Hopper walked over and grabbed your arm, but as he lurched you upward, you felt a sudden wave of nausea. Your dad let go of you, but you didn’t realize why until you saw the puke all over his shoes. 

“Did I do that?” You asked seriously, looking ready to throw up again. 

“Goddammit, Y/n!” Hopper yelled and shoved a trash can in your face before deserting his shoes and running to the kitchen.

You felt another wave and buried your face in the trashcan. Most of what came after was a blur. 

-

You woke up around noon the next day with the headache of a lifetime and El standing over you. 

“What do you want?” you groaned, pulling the blanket over your head. El pulled it back down, “take us to the mall.”

“Us?” you glared at her.

“Max. She is waiting.”

“You’re insane,” you threw a pillow at El and shifted so your back was to her. 

“Hop said you have to take us,” El stated. 

You rolled your eyes, “you’re lying, ‘cause Hop said I’m grounded.”

“And now I’m saying take your sister to the mall,” your dad called from the living room.

“What if Billy’s there?” you asked El quietly, scared of what he would do if you ran into him after what happened. 

“Billy won’t be there. He’s working at the pool all day today,” Max said as she walked into the bedroom.

You groaned, rolling out of bed and onto the floor, “Jesus Christ, fine. Give me an hour and we can go.”

-

The bright lights and large crowds of Starcourt Mall did little to ease your hangover. It felt like you were inside a fishbowl and every noise around you blurred into one obnoxious mass. You blindly followed El through each store, not listening to anything she or Max said. 

As you were leaning against the wall outside of JCPenny, waiting for your sister and her friend to finish up, you had the faint sensation of being watched. You turned to your left and nearly had a heart attack when you saw Billy a little ways away, staring at you intently. 

He was supposed to be working. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. Max had lied, and you were scared. 

But instead of coming over to you, Billy just gave you a nod and disappeared through a door marked for employees only. 

You don’t know why you followed, but your feet started moving before your brain could argue. 

Looking around to make sure no one was watching you, you slipped through the door and stood face to face with Billy. As you stared at him, you noticed the black eye and busted lip decorating his face. You wouldn’t admit it aloud, but it felt good seeing him like that. It felt like justice. 

Your hand was still on the handle, ready to bolt at any moment, when you let out a small, “hi.”

You wanted to slap yourself for sounding so weak. 

“Hi,” Billy said back, waiting expectantly for more words from you, but you had none. What did he want you to say? That you were sorry? You weren’t sorry. That you didn’t know your dad was going to come to Billy’s house? You didn’t know, but saying that won’t make things any different. 

You just stared at him, his blue eyes searching yours for answers. Why were you having trouble breathing? He was so close... so, so close. 

And the next thing you knew, you were pressed against the wall, kissing each other as passionately as you could without drowning in the moment. His hands were running through your hair and his breath was hot against your skin and your mind was screaming at you to stop.

stop. why are you doing this? after everything he did? you should be furious, you should be far away; anywhere but here. 

But you were suffocating with desire and those thoughts were small in comparison to the current running through you that told you to keep going.

Your skirt was bunched up at the waist and your legs were wrapped around the boy in front of you and as he trailed kisses down your neck, self-control went out the window. 

Your savior came in the form of a delivery man, carting boxes down the hallway and rounding the corner to find the compromising position you had gotten yourselves in. 

“Hey! Get the hell out of here! Employees only; read the damn signs!” the man yelled and you pulled away from Billy, staring at him in shock. 

“I-I have to go,” you pushed past your boyfriend and ran. 

You ran until Billy was far behind you, and there was nothing but gray walls and unmarked doors. 

God, you were so stupid. 

Grabbing the handle to the closest door, you pushed your way through and found yourself in the backroom of none other than Scoops Ahoy. 

“Y/n?” a muffled voice asked, and you turned to see Steve staring at you in surprise, his mouth stuffed with whatever he had for lunch. 

“I-Steve, hey-uh, sorry-,” you stuttered, not wanted to explain what just happened and unable to come up with an excuse. 

“Everything... okay?” Steve asked slowly. You could tell he was concerned. For good reason, you had to admit. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Just got lost... looking for the bathroom,” you visibly cringed at your shitty excuse, but gave Steve no time to respond as you rushed out the other door and into the busy food court. 

You needed to get out of here. You needed fresh air. 

You pushed your way through the crowds and out the main entrance. Max and El were waiting by one of the pillars and ran over when they saw you.

“Y/n! Where the hell did you go?” Max demanded. 

“We were worried,” El added. 

You smoothed out your shirt, giving them a reassuring smile, “I went to the bathroom; wasn’t feeling too hot. But everything is fine now. You girls ready to go?”

You didn’t wait for them to respond, starting towards the car at a quick pace. El and Max exchanged a look before hurrying after you.

The drive home was a quiet one. You said nothing, and El and Max didn’t know how to fill the uncomfortable silence. 

Once you got home, you locked yourself up in the bedroom and didn’t come out for the rest of the night. El wanted to say something, but Max told her to give you some space. 

I was late in the night, and you were laying in your bed, staring up at the darkness, cursing yourself for being so damn stupid at the mall today. 

You looked over at the other bed, “El? You awake?” 

“Yes,” El’s small voice made you sit up, letting out a deep breath. 

“I ran into Billy at the mall today,” you stated. You saw her faint figure sit up as well, and you were thankful you couldn't see her face.

“Max said he worked,” El said. 

“Yeah, she was wrong. He saw me and we went into a back hallway to talk and- god, I need help,” you groaned, falling back onto your bed. El looked at you a moment before getting out of her bed and coming to sit next to you. 

“Did he hurt you?” she asked quietly. 

“No, he didn’t. The exact opposite, actually... I know he’s bad for me. I know you and Max are right and I need to take care of myself before trying to fix others, but I love him. And I can’t change that. The only thing I know to do it cut him out entirely, ‘cause if I talk to him alone again I’ll end up right back where I started,” you ranted to her, hoping she had something wise or helpful to say. 

El was silent for a long moment.

 “Dump his ass,” she finally stated in a firm voice, and you couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Why laugh?” El frowned.

“Sorry... that just made me really happy,” you smiled, “you’re right. I need to dump his ass. I need to disconnect from his toxicity and hope he fixes whatever is plaguing him because I, Y/n Hopper, am not responsible for his demons!” you announced loudly.

El went to shush you but you just pulled her into a tight hug, rolling over as she tried to wiggle away from you. 

-

The following morning was much better than the last. You woke up early and had breakfast with El while Hopper got ready for work. As he was leaving for the door, you stood up and looked at him nervously, “Dad?”

Hopper stopped and looked at you, “what do you need?”

“I was wondering if maybe you could go into work a bit late today... I need your help with something,” you said. 

Hopper looked at you carefully and noticed those little ticks you got when you were nervous. He put his hat down and walked towards the kitchen area, “what’s up kiddo?”

You took a deep breath, “I need you to drive me to Billy’s house. I want to-” you glanced at El, “-I want to break up with him. And I just, I need the additional support.”

Your dad pulled you into a tight hug, “work can wait. I’m proud of you.”

You smiled, appreciating the hug for a moment before moving away, “let’s go before I change my mind.”

You got the car with El and your dad and drove to Billy’s house for what was hopefully the last time. Parking on the street, you got out and started towards the front door as Hop and El waited in the car. 

Knocking on the door, you were partially hoping Billy wasn’t home. You heard the turn of a lock and were met with his beautiful face. 

“Y/n, hey... come to apologize for running away yesterday? Or did you want to finish what we started?” Billy leaned against the doorframe, giving you his signature smirk. 

Part of you really wanted to push Billy inside and do dirty things to him, but an even bigger part of you just wanted to be happy, and you couldn’t do that if you were with him. 

“Actually, I came to say... I think we should break up,” you said confidently. 

Billy’s expression darkened, “you’re not serious, Y/n. We’ve been together over a year.”

“I know. But I found people in my life who showed me that what we have isn’t healthy. So, basically... I dump your ass,” you spun around on the heels of your shoes and started back to the car, a smile on your face. 

“You’re gonna regret this!” Billy yelled after you. 

Maybe you would regret it. Maybe you wouldn’t. But right now all that mattered was the feeling of a weight being lifted as you walked towards the two supportive faces smiling at you from the car. 

And honestly, that was enough.

-

End.

tagging every non-anon who asked for part two! thank you all <3

@tonight-upontheroof @m9rs @maybeuniveres @spidey-the-killer-queen @diamondgoddess16 @anchy-bananchy @void-fire-rose @cryinghazelnutt @creativedogs @sheerfreddieattack @slytherinintj13

[strawberry-jules]

the first

picture this: it’s 6:32 pm, you took an edible, and you’re listening to joey pecoraro while you delve headfirst into tumblr like it’s 2014 and you’re a closeted lesbian. because you were, and still are.

january 4, 2020, she texted me drunk, saying she had a secret and she was nervous. i immediately, almost innately, knew what the secret was. i was giggly, blushing, excited, nervous, and absolutely nauseated by the combination of emotions. it was overwhelmingly pleasant, and therefore upsetting, because i didn’t understand. 

i kept opening the picture of us from my christmas party a week earlier, her arms wrapped around my shoulders from behind, twisted into mine as she leaned down and kissed my cheek and laughed quietly into my hair. my eyes peek up at the camera coyly, captured in the flash with an actual sparkle. as the photo was taken, my heart was racing, and i held her arms around me for a moment after the photo was taken. i kept holding her there, pressed up against me, as i showed her what would become one of my most precious memories that i don’t fully remember. 

between the boxed wine, the shitty street weed, and the coke, the whole night is veiled in a thin fog. i do remember her coming to my house on acid, leaning on me and whispering in my ear that she had dropped and wanted some wine. i took her by the hand and led her to the drink and snack counter, already drunk. i watched her slow, graceful movements as she chatted with our friends in the biology club, friends from classes, friends of friends, roommates, and occasional strangers. she walked like she was made of satin, smooth and slippery and soft. she dragged her fingertips across whatever she touched, and i wanted everything to be me. we sat in my room with my cat for a moment, alone, in silence, and it was one of the most intimate moments of my life. 

i reflected on those feelings from a moment, suddenly interrupted by, 

“i have a fat crush on you. like honestly if you hadn’t left there’s a high chance i would have tried to make a move this semester”

holy fuck. holy motherfucking shit fuck. those were the words i had wanted to hear since the day we went hiking with bio club, then split off to explore a rich tech high school, discussed our two daughters and a son who all went to this school, played soccer and danced and played lacrosse, respectively, then discussed taking a pole dancing class and getting our nipples pierced on the way home, in a car full of girls we barely knew. it felt like we were the only two the entire day. she was so beautiful.

i obviously said i liked her, too, in the most eloquent words i could. i wanted to make a good impression.

“shut up

“morgan i’ve had a crush on you forever”

i’m pretty sure that was actually the opening to a romance novel from the 80s.

throughout the month of january, we talked and called and facetimed and i progressively fell more and more infatuated with her. i say infatuated because i loved her as my friend, but i don’t know that i was falling in love quite yet. i got that all over warm feeling when she texted, i got the butterflies at the thought of her name or her hands or her hair, felt a tingle in my spine when i thought of leaning down and kissing her, picking her up by the waist and wrapping her legs around me, trailing my fingers under her shirt. i was wildly infatuated by the feelings she gave me, and frankly a little terrified by how strong they were. i made a plan to ask her to be my girlfriend when she was coming to visit, but it never ended up happening because her parents didn’t let her come visit. for whatever reason, that triggered my brain to shut off. i still wanted her so badly, but i didn’t want to put her in the position to be angry with her parents because of me, that would have been an awful home life. and did i really want to be in a long distance relationship? was this a sign? i had never had a relationship with a girl, did i even know how to do it? what if she didn’t actually like me, and it was just a phase for her? what if i didn’t actually like her, and it was just a phase for me? how would either of us know? was it worth risking our friendship?

i fell into such a lesbian-questioning spiral, that i found the most buff, manly, gym rat dudes i knew and went on dates that i reflect on and gag. i had this intense identity crisis and met a guy who literally looked so much like my father that you could exchange their high school photos and their mothers would not notice and made him my boyfriend as quickly as i could. i forced myself to fall in love, so that i could ignore what happened and live the rest of my days as a straight woman with a man exactly like my father, as my parents had hoped. unfortunately for me, he fell very, very in love with me, and i developed a very, very deep resentment toward him for “keeping me from women”. i woke up one morning and realized that i was no longer questioning. i had a dream that compiled every kiss with every girl i had ever had, all of the images of women kissing and dancing and embracing that had ever impacted me emotionally, and contrasted it immediately by the awkward, cold, uncomfortable kisses with strange men and repetitive, quite literally emotionless kisses with boyfriends, and the way i never initiated sex ever, even in hookups i planned, because i simply did not want to be having sex. it’s like getting high and reading twilight, then immediately getting slapped with a faux leather-bound hotel bible. 

the years i spent with men were a travesty. 

i’m now in an identity crisis because i came to the realization so suddenly that my entire life feels flipped on its head and i have literally no sense of structure or direction or emotional stability or stability in identity that i am in a perpetual tumble backward, down a grassy hill with gopher holes. i hope i land at the bottom, softly, soon. but it’s just as likely that i keep rolling because i started doing that weird sideways thing where you stand up after rolling for like 28 seconds and you realize you’re 86 feet east northeast of your friend, halfway up the hill, when you were supposed to land about 50 feet directly north, at the bottom of the hill. maybe i just rolled down too many literal hills as a child and now i have brain damage because that made no sense.

this is my long winded way of saying i think i’m a lesbian and the two women i have founded the deepest, most emotional romantic bonds with were both best friends that had my name and looked exactly the same, and i think i have a type that is just the version of me i want to be? and is there something wrong with me? and why is being alive so confusing? i am struggling to cope with actual romantic feelings that i have been burying since i was 14. how do i get over a breakup with a girl i never dated and haven’t seen in almost 4 years when she has no idea how i felt and i’m just now understanding how i felt and how fucking incredibly frustrating it is to not know if she ever felt the same, or even has the capacity to feel the same? how fucking tragic to be in love with a straight woman who probably only thinks about you when reflecting on high school, when you’re the one who walks past her in dreams and looks for her when in public and would do very embarrassing and almost unspeakable things to talk to for 5 minutes. and how do i go about processing my feelings for morgan without projecting my feelings for julia on to her? what if my feelings for morgan are simply an extension of julia that i created, a woman who bore a striking resemblance to her and the second part of my name, the second version, the second chance? is that dramatic, or does it have validity? am i just using her as an outlet for a problem i think i can’t solve? i am losing my mind, i think.

[tenrk]

➜ EVENT: star bright casting ➜ LOCATION: park hyatt hotel - interview room ➜ DATE: sunday 28th 2020

why was he doing this? subjecting himself to this ordeal all over again? was this what he wanted? did he really want to start himself on this journey that lead him down the path of self destruction all over again? 

to put it simply, yes, he did want to do all this again. when he’d come back from his three month long disappearing act he’d known from the moment he set foot in seoul that he’d be fighting for this dream once more. of course, people would judge - he’d had his chance, and he’d blown it. but performing, being on stage, dancing and singing for people was something ten had always wanted to do, and probably always would want to do. so, it’d be a disservice to himself if he didn’t take every opportunity presented to him to get back to where he was before. 

being judged was what led ten to his breakdown, and he knew it’d be hard to deal with being judged all over again, even more so now, but his therapist was on speed dial if he needed her, so he couldn’t let his fears take over again. not this time. 

he has his doubts as he’s filling out the form, wondering whether he’s too old to try again, or if he’ll be judged poorly for throwing everything he had away, but somehow the form gets filled out and then he’s just waiting to be interviewed. he’d never gone to something like this before. when he was signed in the past he’d been noticed through an event and invited to audition, rather than go out of his way to attend one. the second time he’d only had to send in a few videos he’d filmed himself. 

this feels different. 

eventually, his names called, and though he notices the heads of some other people waiting snap up to look at him, recognising his name, he ignores them and heads into the interview room. he’s not sure what his chances are like, since they might just write him off because they’re worried he’ll quit like he did before, but he knows he’d got experience in front of cameras, and with being interviewed, so he’s not nervous. 

he stands, perfectly at ease in front of the camera while they check the sound and the video, then give him to cue to introduce himself.

“my names chittaphon leechaiyapornkul, or ten. i’m 22 years old and a dance teacher at 1million dance studio, and a first year dance student at korea national university of arts.” it’s short, but sweet, and punctuated by a relaxed smile at the end. he wonders for a moment whether whoever will watch these will recognise him - he’s changed a lot since he was in the idol world. 

the interviewer, eyes on her clipboard, finally glances up at him and speaks.

“thank you. now, i’ve just got a few questions to ask. please look at the camera while responding.” ten nods, glancing to the camera, then back to her. 

“so, why do you want to be an idol?”

ten’s not entirely sure how to answer, having already been one, and given it up. “ever since i could walk and talk i’ve loved to sing and dance. i can’t remember a time in my life where i wouldn’t have rather been dancing.” he smiles, a genuine smile as he thinks about his greatest passion. “i was lucky enough to have the chance to be an idol for a while. dancing and singing on stage, interacting with the people who really cherished my performances and my skills gave me the biggest rush of euphoria. there isn’t a single thing in the world that’s comparable to the feeling of knowing you’ve brightened someone’s day just by doing something you love. i wasn’t able to keep ahold of my dream for a long, due to health issues, but now that i’m better, i know i can’t just give up on my dream. it’s not too late for me to try again.”

“you mentioned both singing and dancing - which is your best skill? do you have any other notable talents?”

“i’m a dancer, first and foremost, but i do love to sing as well.” he responds with a smile. “i started out focusing more on rapping, but found i preferred singing after a while, so focused my energy on improving in that area more so. but, really, dancing is my biggest passion. i’m at my best when i’m dancing. nothing makes me happier than dancing. i love all styles!” he beams, thinking of all the styles he has yet to master. “i’m mainly based in hip hop, but i’ve been dabbling in contemporary recently, and have taken a few ballet and tap classes over the years. my ultimate goal would be to master all styles of dance, even if that is a little far fetched.” he laughs as he finishes speaking. 

“you wrote on your form that convex are an inspiration to you - your former group, correct? could you elaborate more on how they’re an inspiration to you?”

this question tugs at something still raw in ten’s chest and he finds it hard to push a proper smile onto his lips this time. “everyone in that group were, and still are, like brothers to me. i don’t personally know the new members, but even so, i care very deeply about them by association - they’re carrying on the convex name when i couldn’t, and just seeing them all work so hard to continue to do something i know we all loved to do, and all still do, despite us being separated, inspires me to work harder to get back to that level. so that maybe i can perform on the same stage as them again one day. i’d like to meet them again on award shows, maybe even watch them win right there beside them.”

“you had to leave convex for health issues, you say. could you tell us more about that? were there any other obstacles in your life you’ve had to overcome that were bigger than that?”

ten’s quiet for a moment as his stomach twists and turns, recalling the day he had to leave sphere, leave convex, leave his family. he knows it was for the best, but it doesn’t help to dull the pain. “yes. i... became a trainee at a very young age, when i hadn’t fully figured myself out yet. being a trainee is hard, harder than a lot of people expect or anticipate. harder than i anticipated, that’s for sure. i never really had the time to learn healthy coping mechanisms before i entered the entertainment industry, and because of that i wasn’t able to look after myself very well when things got hard. being an idol was ever harder, and i refused to ask for help until it was too late. i had to step back for my health, even if it was the hardest thing i ever had to do. i knew if i didn’t i could really hurt not only myself but the group, so i did what have to be done. i took some time away to get help and learn those coping mechanisms i didn’t have before, and i’m much better now. i’m ready to face the hardships of being a trainee, and an idol, again.” he thinks about the second part of the question and hums. “my childhood was tough. my older brother and i never got along, and he made growing up around him pretty difficult. i didn’t really do much to overcome that, sadly, as we’re still not on great terms, but i did move away with my mum, which helped a lot. being away from him, i think, probably helped us both out. we just have clashing personalities.” he says, knowing he’s sugar coated and underplayed the whole thing to hell and back. 

“through these hard times, did your family help you out? could you tell us about them?”

family. something ten still hasn’t found a good balance with. it’s not something he enjoys talking about, but it is something he’d had to talk about with his therapist, had to face up to and figure out. “they wanted to, but i had to do it on my own, i think. it was right for me to take the time to be on my own and focus on myself and being happy in myself without needing outside help, at least at first. my dads side of the family, apart from my sister, well, i’m not very close to them, and likely wouldn’t ask them for help. my older sister though helped me a lot growing up, and still helps me now. she’s one of the few people i feel comfortable going to for help. my mums side was definitely a lot of help when i came back to seoul early this year. i have two younger siblings on my mums side, a brother and a baby sister, and spending time with them is always fun and relaxing, so whenever i feel stressed i make sure to visit them.”

“okay, only one more question. if you weren’t trying to be an idol, what do you think you’d be doing right now?”

ten thinks hard, struggling to find an answer as he realises he’s never even thought of an alternative. “i’ve never thought much about it. not being an idol never seemed like a possibility. i feel like it’s what i’m destined to do. but i suppose i’d be finishing university, probably teaching dance as i am right now. i’d always be doing something to do with dancing. i can’t see my life any other way.”

“thank you, that’s all. do you have any questions?”

“no, i don’t think so.”

“alright, well, have a nice day.” the interviewer stands and heads over to the door to hold it open for ten to exit through. 

“thank you, you too!” he replies with a smile, walking through the open doorway and out past the other people waiting. as he makes his way out of the hotel he wonders whether a rejection would sting as badly as he thinks it might. would his fear of never having another chance, having been blacklisted for quitting, be realised? 

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 229: The Real Me

Previously on BnHA: Dabi fought a dude who could control ice. For like three pages. Then we cut to my boy Twice, who had located an unconscious Toga (who as you recall had her blood blown up a couple chapters back, so yeah) and was understandably freaking out about how to get her some help. To make a long and somewhat confusing story short, you know that long-haired guy who hacked Giran’s phone? Turns out he has the power to create human puppets or some shit, and he created a bunch of Twice duplicates and sent them to capture the real Twice (who you might also recall has some traumatic history involving clones of himself). Seems they want to use Twice’s quirk to create a backup clone of Re-Destro, just in case history repeats himself and he ends up kicking the bucket like his great-great granddad. Wouldn’t that be sad. Re-Destro getting murdered. Wouldn’t that just be a darn shame. Anyways so let’s see where this leads.

Today on BnHA: The Villain Flashback Arc continues with today’s installment featuring, you guessed it, more villain flashbacks! We learn more about our little buddy Twice who was apparently orphaned as a young teen and subsequently found himself alone in a cold and uncaring world. Honestly you guys, after reading this I’m amazed that he’s still as nice of a guy as he is. Anyway, so he used his quirk to clone himself because he was lonely, and the clones and him engaged in a petty crime spree or two, and then somehow or other it all led to the whole murderfest that fucked up his head so badly. Back in the present, a struggling Jin tries to escape and help Toga, so Skeptic orders his puppets to break Jin’s arms. They do so, but this has a curious side-effect that Skeptic may not have been expecting. Namely, that having that much damage dealt to him makes Twice realize that he definitely is not one of his clones, and is in fact the real deal. This appears to at least temporarily cure his split personality woes, and the chapter ends with him creating about a dozen duplicates to go fuck up the Liberation Army’s day. Hell yes.

(All comments are my unspoiled reactions from my initial readthrough of the chapter. I did a quick edit for grammar and clarity immediately afterward, but aside from that there are no changes.)

hey guys, sorry I’ve been inactive all week; I’ve been sick and haven’t really had much energy. I still am sick, but I appear to have reached the stage of exhaustion where I’m all “eh, fuck it, yeah sure whatever” where it’s ironically easy to motivate myself to do stuff because I have no willpower to resist, lol

so anyway. we’re apparently not missing a beat, picking up right where we left off last week with Twice’s mask being pulled off by one of the gorilla puppets

wow and they’re just like. flinging him aside

DON’T FLING MY BOY NO!! AND GET AWAY FROM TOGA

AHHHH

shit, how creepy is that? are they cold because they’re just ~puppets~ and not actually real, living people? what a disturbing touch

now we’re cutting back to Skeptic, who’s giving the puppets orders and addressing them as various letters of the alphabet. how can he tell them the fuck apart

meanwhile Giran’s asking what they’re doing to his pal. ;_; Giran you continue to be the best

and Re-Destro’s forcibly directing his attention elsewhere, but he’s also answering his question, strangely enough

that’s a lot of detail to be giving the guy when you could have just smacked him and told him to shut up. these villains are so confusing

but I guess they’re just telling him all this to taunt him more, because now Skeptic is bragging that he learned about Jin’s psychological disorder from Giran’s client data

hey btw I don’t think I’ve said this yet, but fuck this guy so hard for taking advantage of Twice’s trauma and using it against him. what a shocker, the Meta Liberation Army of dickheads pulls another dickhead move. these guys are so classy

oh my fucking god you guys Giran is getting hotter with each fucking chapter though fffffffff

if you’d told me a month ago that this dude would be nipping at Aizawa and All Might’s heels for the title of BnHA’s most eligible bachelor I would have called you a liar and a thief, yet here we are. good lord

that said, I appreciate that he’s thinking about how hard it’ll be on poor Twice, but they also just said they’d kill Toga as well, so I imagine that part of it would be pretty hard on her too. just saying

SDLFKSDLFHK SPEAKING OF

FUCK ME YOU GUYS I ALMOST LEAPED TO MY FUCKING FEET, WHAT THE FUCK. DON’T TELL ME THEY’RE GOING TO SNAP HER NECK. HOLY SHIT

SOMEONE BETTER SAVE HER OR I’M GOING TO FLY OUT TO JAPAN AND GIVE HORIKOSHI MY STUPID COLD. THAT’LL SHOW THAT BASTARD. HAVE SOME BRONCHITIS YOU PIECE OF SHIT

AND TWICE IS WATCHING ALL PANICKED AND SCREAMING THAT HE’S GOING TO KILL HER

AT FIRST I WAS CONFUSED AND WAS LIKE, DOES HE BLAME HIMSELF FOR GETTING HER IN THIS SITUATION? BUT THEN I REMEMBERED THE CLONES AND THAT YEAH IT’S LITERALLY HIM KILLING HER THOUGH OMGGGGG

AHHH HE’S SO CONFUSED THIS IS SO CONFUSING

I’M TOO SICK TO DEAL WITH TWICE’S EXISTENTIAL CRISIS YOU GUYS, IT’S REALLY FREAKING ME OUT, HELP. THE FUCKING PANELS ARE ALL WOBBLY-LINED AND THEY KEEP ZOOMING IN ON HIS FACE AND SHOWING HIM ALL BUG-EYED SCREAMING “WHO AM I” OVER AND OVER AGAIN OH GOD

OH SHIT!?!?

ACTUAL TWICE FLASHBACKS OH SHIT?! I was not expecting this oh snap. I am so into this

anyway, so he’s thinking -- with surprising coherence -- that because of his rough appearance, people were always afraid of him growing up

but also, what was that part about him not having a family? so he was an orphan then?? Horikoshi you are aware that I already love Twice and am emotionally attached to him, yes? but like if you want to hit me with even more feels and fuck me up some more then be my guest I suppose?

anyway so whoever he’s talking to here says Jin, who is apparently sixteen here, evidently hit some dude with his motorcycle by accident. oh shit

and baby!Jin says the guy jumped out in front of him and he was obeying the speed limit and everything

and the man he’s talking to seems vaguely sympathetic but says that regardless, it’s usually the victim who ends up winning these cases, and that Jin may end up with a criminal record. “but don’t let it get to you.” oh, sure. yeah, let’s just look on the bright side here

he says that no matter how many times you stumble in life, you can always start over

well shit is it any wonder this kid ended up going the villain route and making a bunch of clones of himself to live his best life? I mean jeez, he had absolutely no one on his side and was slapped with a criminal record when he was only sixteen. that shit is rough

oh fuck me and it just keeps getting worse

well that’s nice. so make that homeless with a criminal record, then. jesus christ he was still just a kid

so apparently his parents died in a villain attack when he was in middle school, and he had no relatives. I guess the state didn’t give a fuck either, damn

I find it extraordinarily easy to empathize with, actually! that’s one of the things that makes you such a great character!

so I guess he originally ended up making a clone of himself just because he was lonely. okay wow. not only does Twice continue to be the most likable villain in the series, he’s working his way up there as one of the most likable and relatably human characters, period

look at this shit! he’s just a guy who had a run of bad luck and tried his best to cope with it in whatever ways he could. there’s nothing villainous about him, he was just someone whom nobody wanted. he had his entire future stolen out from under him in the blink of an eye and had nowhere else to turn. he just wanted some friends for fuck’s sake

and so then he and his merry band committed a bunch of petty crimes. but they just needed some cash so they could live! like, all he wanted to do was just chill out and be happy. I got your back Twice. it’s not your fault

and then the flashback just kind of cuts to him tied to the chair in the aftermath of the clone hunger games. so I guess that’s all the backstory we’re getting as far as that goes. ngl I would have really liked to see just a bit more of the lead-up to that specific event. he’s such a nice guy that it’s a bit hard to picture him just suddenly going “RAWR I’M GONNA MURDER ALL Y’ALL.” but what I’m thinking is that all of the tragedy in his past contributed to him forming his violent alter ego personality, and that one of the clones must have just snapped one day and the rest is history

anyway so now we’re cutting to his first meeting with my new boyfriend Giran

ah okay, so he’s scared because if he actually is one of the clones then just a tiny bit of damage would be enough to finally do him in

btw Giran, possibly the one good thing Re-Destro and his buds did was getting rid of that scarf and sunglasses though bud. if you decide to change up your look after all of this, I’m not going to complain. there’s a reason I thought you were just some douchebag this whole time. obviously I shouldn’t have been so quick to judge you, I realize that now of course

but seriously Giran who wears sunglasses at night indoors. I mean, idk, maybe you get migraines or something. but if not I’m just saying

regardless, questionable fashion choices aside, Giran is actually a super nice guy, a mensch if you will, and he is now casually changing Twice’s entire life in the span of a few sentences. awww

how the fuck were you planning on smoking that cigarette while wearing a paper bag over your face. ??

also, Giran on this page kinda reminds me of Sanji, if Sanji was, like, a beatnik about to throw down on open mic poetry night

anyway so that’s the end of our happy flashback, and now we’re back in the present with Twice resuming his freakout!

but in spite of his mental struggles, he’s shaking the puppet clones off and trying to dash toward Toga again omg!

up in his little tower Skeptic seems fairly surprised

in related news, fuck this guy so much. also he’s using one of his puppets as a chair, which is one of the creepiest touches Horikoshi has put in this manga to date. but also they mentioned last week that Skeptic makes the puppets out of any human-sized materials that happen to be lying around, so I kind of wonder if maybe this dude originally was a chair. the mysteries of BnHA

moving on though, yeah, Twice and Toga really do have a strong bond though, don’t they? their chemistry is as beautiful as it is strange

oh shit but they really did hit him though

FUCK YOU F AND G

FFFFF SON OF A BITCH

DLASFKJLKJ PLEASE DON’T YOU FUCKING PSYCHOPATH, I CAN’T WAIT FOR YOU TO FUCKING DIE YOU ASSHOLE!!!

motherfucker! and we just established that he’s afraid that a broken bone will be enough to kill him if it turns out he really is a clone!

-- holy shit, but. on the other hand, if it doesn’t kill him though, that just might be enough to cure him of that particular fear once and for all. oh shit, unexpected plot twist

though in this particular situation it probably won’t make much of a difference how sane he is if he’s still got two broken arms though fuuuuuuuck

anyway... gotta click to the next page... even though I really don’t want to, sob

aaaaaaaand they’ve broken them. well shit. at least it wasn’t graphic. he’s just hunching forward and screaming and his arms are facing the wrong way, fuck

and now Skeptic is all “your legs are next,” and uh, can Twice actually hear him, though?? like, what? did I miss something here? is he piping his voice in through the shed’s convenient sound system or something?

anyway he’s telling Twice not to struggle anymore, and Twice is muttering to himself all darkly about how much that hurt

and apparently Toga’s regained consciousness now!!

wow Skeptic, okay sure, go ahead and keep talking about how you’re about to kill Toga in front of his eyes. just keep on digging yourself deeper. it’s like he doesn’t realize there’s only one page left in the chapter and things are just about reaching a tipping point and our heroes (?! I mean they are, though, for this arc at any rate) have had just about enough of his bullshit

lol I can’t take the tension omg

please do something badass please do something badass please d --

oh snap

Twiiiiiiice ;_; so it’s like I thought. they unexpectedly cured you of your identity crisis angst

anyway I guess this chapter is a longer one than usual because it’s page 15 now and we’re still going! so I will now resume my “please do something badass” chant. c’mon Twice. kick some assssssss

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS

THIS TIME I REALLY DID LEAP OUT OF MY CHAIR OMG. BOIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

LMAO ARE ALL OF THEIR ARMS BROKEN TOO. FUCK IT, IT DOESN’T MATTER. DEKU HAS SPENT APPROXIMATELY HALF THE MANGA WITH BROKEN ARMS AND IT’S NEVER STOPPED HIM*

*forest angst aside. and anyways that all worked out in the end, so

“wounded heroes are the most dangerous.” well fuck. given that we’ve just seen an exhausted and delirious Shigaraki eradicate an entire wave of people, and a bloodied and wounded Toga straight up murder one of the Army’s leaders, I think it’s safe to say we can apply this statement to villains too. and I for one can’t wait how dangerous a wounded -- but now sane -- Twice can be. motherfucker how I am loving this glorious arc

[drake-the-incubus]

1-50. Your turn >:3

1. Think of the last person who said I love you, do you think they meant it?

I hope so! Hey @hero-of-bowerstone do you love me?

2. Would you date an 18-year-old at the age you are now?

I’m turning 22 and have done nothing with my life. It depends. I don’t really know many 18 year olds.

3. When’s the last time you were aggravated and happy at the same time?

Re-reading my favourite book series a couple of days ago. Menoetius please love yourself more my baby, my child. Also writing my last fic is probably sooner. Cause Xiphrus needs love.

4. Would you ever smile at a stranger?

Uh… how the fuck do people smile?

5. Is there someone mad because you’re dating/talking to the person you are?

Uh yeah. He’s blocked and hopefully will leave me the fuck alone.

6. Have you heard a song that reminds you of someone today?

Uh not really. I have tailored playlists.

7. What exactly are you wearing right now?

A t-shirt, shorts and underwear? I need to change actually but that requires a shower and I’m too lazy to get that ready :/

8. How often do you listen to music?

24/7. Unless I’m watching a video/video calling, I’m constantly listening to music. When I say I’ve listened to a song for a week straight, it’s likely the song has been looped… for a week straight.

9. Do you wear jeans or sweats more?

Sweats, jeans fucking suck and cause issues I’d rather not deal with.

10. Do you think your life will change dramatically before 2013?

I mean the year already passed but back then I was going into 7th I think? If you mean the turn of this year, yeah I fucking do look at the world.

11. Are you a social or an antisocial person?

Anti-Social. I don’t like spending time with people too much and need a lot of alone time. That being said I crave attention from friends.

12. Have you ever kissed someone whose name begins with the letter ‘A’?

I don’t know? I’ve kissed a lot of people I have forgotten bc of truth or dare. Not that I recall.

13. What about ‘R’?

See the same as above.

14. Can you drive a stick shift?

No, and legally if I drive I’m going to be arrested as my learners expires soon and I a) have no glasses, b) can’t concentrate on the road to pass a driver’s test. Also why the fuck do people drive those, it’s… so unreliable.

15. Do you care if people talk badly about you?

If they’re not telling me to my face, yeah. If you have a problem with me, bring it up to me. I don’t like people talking behind my back. That being said, nah. Talk shit about me to my face all you want I don’t give a shit.

16. Are you going out of town soon?

I’m spending the next month in another province so the answer is, already out of town. I’ll be going out of this town quite often.

17. When was the last time you cried?

A few days ago I cried over Menoetius losing his fucking shit at love and then again when Joxeia was struggling.

18. Have you ever told someone you loved them?

Plenty of times. Then it got thrown back into my face almost the same amount.

19. If you could change your eye color, would you?

Yes and no. If I could have full heterochromia with a blood red eye I’ll fucking take it. That shit’s cool and I still love it. Otherwise only to make my own centerlized-heterochromia more distinct. (Blue/Green Split)

20. Is there a boy who you would do absolutely everything for?

My boyfriend? IG. I mean fictionally a lot of boys. IRL I don’t think I could do everything for anyone. Not my style.

21. Name something you dislike about the day you’re having.

I’m hungry and I can’t finish the series I’ve been waiting on bc scanlators dont have the final two chapters.

22. Is it cute when guys kiss you on your forehead?

No. Ew. It reminds me of what parents are supposed to do. Otherwise why’re you checking my fever? What’s the point?

23. Are you dating the last person you talked to?

Uh depends on what that’s defined as. I talked out loud, verbally to my boyfriend so yeah. Otherwise, no.

24. What are you sitting on right now?

A very uncomfortable arm chair/lazy boy type thing.

25. Does anyone regularly (other than family) tell you they love you?

My boyfriend. My friends. Also bold of you to assume my family tells me they love me.

26. Have you ever wanted someone you couldn’t have?

Yes, I want a lot of people. Fictional characters are nice, man. Otherwise kinda. On and off.

27. Who was the last person you talked to before you went to bed last night?

Staff on a server.

28. Do you get a lot of colds?

Yes! It fucking sucks because I sound like I’m dying MORE now.

29. Where is the shirt you are wearing from?

RTX 2018 when I went down there. Wish I could go again.

30. Does anyone hate you?

I would think, someone does, I'm not the most likeable person in the universe. I secretly think everyone does.

31. Do you have any empty alcohol bottles hidden somewhere in your room?

I should fucking hope not. If there is my boyfriend is going to have to answer some questions.

32. Do you like watching scary movies?

That’s my favourite movie genre.

33. Do you want your tongue pierced?

Ew no. Someone else does and I hate them for it. No that shit is… no. Good on other people but I know ppl who have had it and no.

34. If you had to delete one year of your life completely, which would it be?

Um… 2016 bc that ruined my life :)

35. Did you have a dream last night?

Fuck if I know. I woke up hungry and focused on that.

36. When was the last time you told someone you loved them?

Yesterday. My boyfriend.

37. Do you think you’ll be married in 5 years?

I don’t know if I even want to be married, but given what’s going on if I’m not then my bf might cry? So I think yes if we get the finances.

38. Do you think someone has feelings for you?

Uh… my boyfriend. But otherwise? Yeah. I’m fairly aware a lot of people develop feelings for me. It kinda weirds me out bc 90% of the time it’s never romantic.

39. Do you think someone is thinking about you right now?

Uh. Statistically speaking someone probably is.

40. Did you have a good day yesterday?

Nope. I don’t really think it was a net good or bad day.

41. Think back 2 months ago; were you in a relationship?

Yeah. We’re two years in September.

42. In the next 48 hours, will you hang out with a girl?

I currently share a house with my sister in law. We just had a conversation when I reached this question actually.

43. Has anyone told you they don’t want to ever lose you?

Yes and that brings up bad memories.

44. What’s the best part about school?

I got away from my abusive parents. Got to write in class. Met some friends. Uh. Learned about many things, people who’re 13 and spent five minutes learning about, argue with me on them. I learned how to write and use none of that knowledge now.

45. Do you have any pictures on your Facebook?

I wish I didn’t, but yeah because I had to upload things for my parents. Including images of before I was out as trans.

46. Do you ever pass notes to your friends in school?

Yup. Pretty common past time.

47. Do you replay things that have happened in your head?

Obsessively. So much so I’ve caused issues. So now I keep fictional worlds going as a coping mechanism.

48. Were you single over the last summer?

Nope. Won’t be this one either,

49. Is your life anything like it was two years ago?

Hahaha. Fuck no and im glad for it. Not with my parents, not struggling with other issues, not with my ex. Shit’s baller.

50. What are you supposed to be doing right now?

Probably writing a fanfic or planning a book. Cleaning. Could use a shower. Will I do any of these? Probably not, my boyfriend jacked my PC.

[a-tired-bass]

On suicide prevention hotlines, and a whole lot of my brain.

Seriously, warning. It’s not good stuff. Writing it down is hard, but it makes me feel a little better, a little bit stronger

Ok

So to rehash my train of thought, I’ve always avoided calling suicide hotlines, even at my lowest. I have considered calling them - I’ve even considered calling the emergency line for a ride to the hospital before. There are 2 reasons for that I’ve not done it, and likely never will, I think

1st, and definitely the ‘lesser’ of the two causes, is that I expect them to be unable to help (even though I know that's fairly unlikely and illogical). To the outside world (with some exception of being here on tumblr, not getting into that) I tend to present a fairly appropriate mask. Even when I’m pretty low, i can put on this facade that makes me socially acceptable, if maybe sometimes distant. My mother doesn't even know I’m doing it most of the time.

Even when I know people love me and want to help me, I struggle to open up. Displaying emotion like that is really, really hard for me. it makes me feel weak and incompetent, like I’m broken and, most impactfully, that I’m not good enough. It’s very “boys shouldn’t cry” mentality, I’m aware.

I remember a mini-vacation I took with a few mates, early on when i started uni, not long after a particularly bad bout of my illness. I was taking a nap - we’d had a long night, and I’m was an early riser, so I took an afternoon nap while most of them went to the beach. except for a couple of them. The first, one of the loveliest girls I know, incredibly kind and also mentally ill (so she knows at least in her own way what I’m going through). The second, a guy who at the time, I wasn’t amazingly good friends with - he’s very abrasive and uncouth on the surface, but once you got past that he is an incredibly genuine and good person (we’re much better friends now). They were having a chat while everyone else was away, and I had just woken up. They didn’t know that of course, I was still lying in bed down the hallway. And they wound up talking about me, and worrying about me.

It was really heartwarming to hear. And I’ve never let them know I heard this. And i’ve never truly turned to them while I’m down. And that’s just 2 of my mates.

And my mum - I know she’d support me through anything, no matter what it took. She’s an excellent mother, and tried her hardest, even when she was so ridiculously overworked that I literally can’t comprehend how she managed (Undertaking a Masters degree on top of having already completed several previous degress, full time job that involved country wide clients and commitments, raising us twins, and basically doing almost everything a SAHM would do on top of all of that since my dad is a little bit useless in comparison). It wasn’t always perfect, sure (there are definitely some traumatic memories there), but she’s still my hero. My dad wouldn’t be able to support me in that way quite so readily, but I know he’d try to make it work - he loves me in his own way. Pretty sure he’s a little bit like me in some of the emotional capability of brain development. He wasn’t a good father, but he wasn’t a bad father.

So there are people I could reach out to who are closer than a suicide prevention hotline. And I can’t even reach out to them.

What the hell kind of position would I have to be in to put my thoughts through a phone? A stranger? That’s almost unfathomable to me sometimes. It’s probably going to make actual long-term useful therapy really difficult

Yes. I’m aware of the irony of typing all this up on a semi-public blogging website.

But moving onto point 2, which is by far the more morbid, if I told any of them what I actually felt and went through, I’d probably end up locked away and under supervision.

I first experienced actual suicidal ideation when I was 13. It became a recurring thing by the time I was 14. By 15, it was monthly, and I developed what was probably a gaming addiction to help cope (in my final 2 years of high school I put in 2000 hours on a single game alone, let alone the other hundreds of hours spent on other games and watching tv/movies), along with my first actual ‘plan’. By 17, weekly was the theme.

By the time I was in my 2nd semester of uni at 18, it was daily.

I’m 23 now. It’s been daily since. If you define a ‘good day’ by a day which doesn’t involve the thought of dying, I have maybe a couple a month. The plan had evolved into something more concrete, reliable, and painless by this point - if I decide to go out, I’m out.

It’s why I refuse to have sleeping pills available, despite even my worst bouts of insomnia.

But I don’t want to go out that way. No matter how much my brain tells me I should. I don’t want to hurt my friends and family. I don’t want them to have to deal with that. I don’t want to seem weak, incompetent, broken, not good enough.

I still experience suicidal ideation daily. I have an active plan for if I decide to go out. And if I told that to a medical professional, they’d lose their fucking head. To most of them, I seem like I’m fine on the outside - maybe I just have a minor case or something. But I also know I’m about as bad as it gets before it’s too bad. I just have a bit more fortitude than some, and a crippling fear of disappointing others (hello other traumatic problems that I’m not going into right now). Part of the hotline script asks some of these questions.

I’m fighting, but its hard. It’s really, really hard. And sometimes I’m just so very tired of it.

I didn’t expect to live past 20. I honestly don’t really expect to live past 25 sometimes. I avoid making long term plans or thinking about actual futures. I tend to just live life as it comes now a days (this has definitely led to many occasions of Current Me hating Past Me. Very little impulse control. One such an occasion is right now as I experience painful indigestion because of eating really very badly the other day)

My only plans currently are finish my degree - I’m already in my 6th year of a 3 year degree, with current predictions (without setbacks) land me finishing at the end of next year. And after that, I think I might spend some time getting a diploma in teaching (a 1 year course). There’s also a nebulous idea of doing something with singing (could be, who knows...)

I am broken. I can’t change that. Fuck, it’s why I’m never passing on my genes, ever. As much as I think I would enjoy having kids, that I want to be and could be a better father than mine was, they will never be genetically mine (adoption or whatever would be the go to route there - also, don’t @me about eugenics, this is my choice). I never want someone to experience what I have to experience, and at least part of that is my DNA

But that doesn’t mean I’m not good enough.

And it doesn’t mean I deserve to be locked away and under supervision