#remembered the time when [thing happened] and instead of engaging in [bad coping mechanisms]

[aropride]

i am literally the bravest little guy in the world no contest. i have been so brave about it so many times. i will continue to do this forever

[the-bloody-sadist]

Hello! Fellow yanagihara hater here. Please share more of your views on a little life i beg because that book was so promising with its themes goddamn but then the writer had to fuck it up -

OH NOOOOO THE CHANCE TO BE A HATER WHATEVER WILL I DO.....

THANKS FOR ASKING.

I'm really glad to hear from someone who was also angry at the book and its author! I tend to be more bothered than usual when any form of media is popular for so-called "trauma representation", held up as a classic, etc., and then when I consume that media, I find out that the way it's written is more of a pretentious normie's view of "suffering", which, in my opinion, is disgusting. NOW. PLEASE BE REMINDED THAT I HAVE STRONG OPINIONS, AND ALSO TAKE THEM WITH A GRAIN OF SALT, AS I'M PARTICULARLY TRIGGERED BY WHAT I FEEL IS HORRIBLE TRAUMA REP. And a second grain of salt, too, since I did NOT read all of A Little Life (because I got too angry, knew exactly where it was going, and said FUCK YOU YANAGIHARA, I'm going to watch a video essay breakdown of the plot instead so I don't kill myself), and also watched behind the scenes interviews that made me hate Yanagihara even more.

If you're curious what video I watched that broke down the plot and confirmed all of my expectations on this book, it's here! I remember not agreeing with a lot of what that YouTuber said, because some things are silly to complain about in fiction and I don't believe in the whole "sexual abuse should not be shown in graphic detail", which I think was part of his discussion?? Bad memory, sorry. What I think is ugly about the book is the pile-on of RIDICULOUS amounts of trauma for Jude, to a degree that makes it a parody, almost comedically, of real trauma. From a writer's perspective, I'm furious at the way she used it and the way it succeeded at it's one job--NOT to help people understand the effects of trauma and CSA--but to make them cry. It's cheap, it's gross, and it casts all of Jude's trauma (for me) in the light of "this author was proud of herself for how much she could stuff into one boy just to make SURE you were devastated, while paying no special attention to make sure these traumas were handled with care". It's enraging to see how low the standard is for professional books that A Little Life is held up the way it is.

Now, don't get me wrong, her prose, while bogged down by excruciating and needless detail a lot of times, is very engaging. It's part of why I was so mad that it failed in the most important areas. I wanted it to be good! I really did! And I loved Jude, he would've been a wonderful character if not for her amateur decisions. Had she picked one or two traumas to focus on, created a realistic background for him, and had his death make for better impact and purpose to the plot, I'd probably have the book on my shelf as a top ten. But instead, I listened to her speak about how she did ZERO RESEARCH ON TRAUMA for Jude, apparently doesn't have trauma of her own that she's referencing (because then, no matter how much I disliked it, I would be more forgiving if she's pulling from her own experiences), and just...is so FLIPPANT about how she wrote it. Plus, in my personal opinion, I don't like her attitude in general. She comes off like a cringe edgelord for the slop she wrote, and I know so many authors who aren't even professionals that write trauma WORLDS better than she ever could.

Also, I'm so sorry, but the COVER??? What a perfect representation for the book, honestly. That old photo of the dude making an expression of pain that looks fake as fuck to me, just...eugh.

You know those gacha life cringe videos where the characters are all gory and talk about fucked up shit that happened to them, but it's extreme and ridiculous? That's what this book felt like once it dove into Jude.

When I write my own characters, I try to pick a single trauma for them and a couple coping mechanisms. It's important to me that one trauma isn't just tossed in there without regard for how much it changes someone's life, behaviors, and thought processes. Other traumas exist, of course, but they fit within the theme for what the character will represent. And I think it's important to have characters around them that will balance that trauma, a caretaker, a friend, and some sort of hope. Even if it might be true in real life that some people do have out-of-this-world experiences of trauma, there's not a lot of ways to correctly convey that in fiction without coming off as silly or over-imaginative. It quickly feels like the author is jerking themselves off in how "good" they are at making characters suffer, when for me, it's about how good they are at portraying how even a "small" trauma can affect the character deeply. I respect it more when media explores the subtle aspects of trauma, incorporating multiple side-effects instead of just one. Again, I know not everyone is as picky as I am. I'm trying to have more grace for what others think is realistic, but A Little Life is WAY over that line. Whenever I read or watch something that has overdone, overdramatic, or unrealistic depictions of trauma, it's intensely triggering, and sometimes I've become suicidal for like a whole week afterwards LMFAO, so I'm super passionate about this subject, and I think it's because I'm both a writer and a trauma survivor. Having CPTSD and watching shit like Bungou Stray Dogs get praised for "good PTSD rep" with ATSUSHI????? Straying a bit from the topic, but I lose respect for anyone who expresses that opinion.

Anyway, as a closing opinion, Yanagihara just sounds like a teen fanfic writer who crams their story full of misery and thinks she's done a great job just because there was a lot of it and people went “aww, so sad”. It just felt like trauma is a spectacle for her, not a crushing psychological experience.

I already feel misunderstood enough, as is. I already feel like my trauma has been disregarded by anybody who hasn't shared the same type of trauma. The last thing I need is confirmation that it'll continue to be misunderstood because of media depictions like A Little Life.

THANKS FOR LETTING ME RANT, ANON! I hope I shared a lot of the same things you felt about the book!! I don't think I said everything as well as I wanted to, but I pushed the book out of my mind as much as possible after getting triggered by it, so I can't recall all of the details in full clarity. LMAO...

MUCH LOVE TO YOU!! And to leave on a positive note, I recently watched Room (with Brie Larson) and it was one of the BEST realistic representations of trauma I've seen in a LONG TIME. So that was nice!! It's in my favorites list now and I recommend it to everyone so you don't have to think about A Little Life anymore 🫵😡

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Happy Taskmaster day to all who celebrate!

So, I realized today that there’s a conflict. I discovered last week that a pub around the corner from my house hosts a weekly comedy night for free (I mean, for pay what you can, and I left them some money last week, I’m not a dick, but it still came out much cheaper than buying tickets in an actual comedy club). I went, expecting it to be not great because it’s a free comedy night in a pub, but it greatly exceeded those very low expectations. And I was later informed, by someone who knows about these things (and is my brother), that despite appearances it’s not just an open night or anything, it’s where a lot of good comics go to work out material, it’s the best comedy night in the city outside of actual clubs, which cost actual money. And it’s on every week, right near me, so that’s fucking exciting.

I first learned about this night because I Googled comedy in my area, to see if there was anything cheap and convenient that would get me out of the house. Comedy has been a very good escapist coping mechanism in the last few years, to get through the time when we were supposed to disengage with the physical world around us. But in the most recent year it’s become increasingly clear that it’s worked too well, I’ve become so completely emotionally invested in this, and the real world that I tried to go back to was all different and complicated and I didn’t fit into it anymore, so it was too easy to just continue to put all my emotional investment into the thing that had been working for several years.

The drawback to that is, you know, being completely disengaged from the actual world around you is not a good thing. I’ve been working on that, I get pretty depressed at times about how it’s been slow going, but then I think of where I was a year ago, when being out for an hour seemed like a Herculean task, and I know I have made progress. But still, there are bad days. Like the one I had last week when my brain decided that actually, it was going to ignore all that progress, and collapse in a panic attack on the way to the real-world thing I was trying to attend.

I decided that instead of letting the night be a complete failure, I’d go home, regroup, and try the night again, from a different angle. Because about a month ago, I had this idea. That if I like comedy so much but the drawback is it too easily becomes an escape from the real world, the obvious solution is to find some comedy that exists in my real world. So I Googled comedy nights in my area, found this one at a pub, thought it’ll probably be shit but I should try it sometime. And then last week, the day that I was looking for a reason to try again with going out instead of letting the night be defined by failure to do so, happened to be the night when it was on. So I went, had a great time, afterward I had a conversation with my brother that didn’t turn into a fight for first time in ages but that’s another issue; overall it was a very positive experience, I was excited to go back.

Here's the downside: it takes place every Thursday. And this morning, I found myself thinking, “Shit, I can’t go back there tonight, it’s the Taskmaster premiere.” I actually could watch the episode and then immediately leave for this comedy thing, but I don’t want to do that. With a fresh new Taskmaster episode, I want to take my time as I watch it, pause to take screenshots and write shit down and make pointless posts on this blog as I get excited about things. There’s only one chance to watch each episode for the first time, I can’t rush that shit.

So I genuinely thought about staying home, and then I remembered that that runs completely counter to the entire point of my planned excursions. I want to start going to this pub night to make comedy into a way to engage with the world around me, rather than just a reason to stay in my bedroom and ignore it for comedic things I access on my computer. It will really defeat the purpose if I skip it because I have to stay home and watch Taskmaster in a way that lets me post about it on a Tumblr blog.

…So that’s the reason why, even though I’m ridiculously excited about the new season - wildly, disproportionately excited about the new season - I think I’m going to watch the new episode tomorrow morning. I hope it’s great, I hope everyone has a great time watching it, I’m going to stay away from this site to avoid spoilers and preserve my experience, I love this lineup so fucking much that I’m almost concerned it sets expectations too high to live up to, but these people can do it if anyone can. It’ll be great. Tomorrow.

[noxthesleepymoodyoverthinker]

How do you get a support system?

TL;DR: Reaching out to your support system in times of trial is all well and good. But first, you must have a support system, and then that support system must be willing to try and give you support.

The advice I've seen a lot about recovering from trauma is to reach out to your support system, to engage and allow them to help you and be there for you.

What has not been mentioned in those articles and posts I've seen so far tho, is how to find that support system.

Because, the truth is, not all the people around you -- even those you love -- have the wherewithal, the emotional intelligence, or the selflessness to support you when you need it. And on top of that, some are alone and don't have a support system in the first place.

So yes, a support system and letting them in might be good advice. But that takes for granted that you already have one.

Personal Example/Rant from this point on (feel free to skip):

Because I had and have people I love, people who I thought were my tribe, both family and friends alike. But, when I reached my breaking point, when I actually reached a point where it was impossible for me to pick up the pieces myself and needed the most minimum amount of support -- just support to tell me I wasn't as utterly alone as I felt, as incapable and as broken as I felt -- those very same people disappeared.

What I learned, instead, was that, yes, I was part of their support system, a major part even. But they were not part of mine. They didn't want to be part of mine, and they did not want to make the effort to be part of mine.

Maybe a part of me even knew this before my breaking point. Because I never gave them too much if I thought they'd be overwhelmed. If, whenever I tried to vent, I sensed that it was too much for them, I held back. However, it didn't matter what they needed to talk about, I would be there anyway. I might have not always known how to be there, but I figured it out after the first two or three conversations or venting sessions, and I supported them as much as I could.

A part of me knew they couldn't handle some things from my end, so I didn't often burden them with that...

But then, I lost my parents, and so many things happened at once, so, so many things... And, don't get me wrong, it wasn't the absolute worst that could have happened -- I'm aware it could have been even worse. But it all happened so consecutively and so harshly that it was too much for me to manage, and I broke, and couldn't remember any of my healthy or unhealthy coping mechanisms to get through it.

Frankly, I was shattered into a million pieces...And those pieces were so hot and jagged and sharp that I bled every time I tried to pick any of them up to try and piece myself back together like I'd done in the past...

It was so bad, that I immediately looked for, (luckily) found, and started therapy. The utter, traumatized mess that I was trumped all of my trust issues and hesitance. I jumped into therapy head-first, and even warned my therapist during the very first session that I had trust issues, might deflect some things consciously or unconsciously because of that, and to please be ready to coax stuff out of me. (I was/am rather self-aware. And just because I knew I needed therapy at that point, doesn't mean my trust issues and hesitance had disappeared. They were just currently in the backseat instead of in the front seat.)

And honestly, therapy was one of the best decisions I had made for myself.

But...therapy is once a week or twice a month... And it doesn't mean that your trauma takes a backseat the rest of the days and only shows up obediently during your sessions... And those other days are when you need your support system...

I hadn't asked much of these people whom I'd known for decades. I wanted phone calls, maybe once a week. I wanted them to call me or to answer my own calls, as frequently as we had called before. I wanted those who had visited me whenever they'd felt like it to just continue visiting me. I wanted company when I had to go out, if they were free to, just like they had asked me to accompany them a dozen or so times in the past.

Because having someone else's energy around me quieted the horrors and triggers in my own head. And I just wanted them to do what they had already been doing even before my parents had passed away.

But, the one main difference was, I didn't really have the capacity to be their sounding board for once. Whereas, before, even if they were beating around the bush, I would figure out something was up and coax it out of them until they figured out how to say it. I would also be able to listen for hours if they wanted to vent.

But now, I was utterly spent. I didn't have the energy to coax out things they didn't say outright. And, for once, I had more to talk about, and I expressed that I wanted to talk if they had the time. I could not be their calm space in a crisis anymore, tho, because my mind was not at all calm and I didn't know how to be that anymore.

The funny part is, among my family members, I expected this support, especially, from the ones who had lost their own parents decades ago. Because, they had gone through the same thing, right? I wasn't asking for something they couldn't understand...

But what applied to my friends applied to them as well. I was shattered and upset and could not be their source of calm. I could not just bounce back because I didn't know how to this time.

And I did ask for help, many times. And while their deflection and disappearance hurt me each time, I tried again because what if the way I had communicated my needs to them had been confusing or unclear? So I said it directly to them all in many ways: Please call me. Can we talk? Please visit me like you did before? Please talk to me. I need your energy, please, because it calms me down and gets me out of my own head. Can you come with me while I do this? Let's watch a movie together when you're free? What if I just kept you company while you ran errands? You've asked me to do that a lot of times in the past, so can we do that again? Can we have a lunch date? What about a dinner date? Can you please do any one of these things just once this month?

Those I asked rarely said no. When they did say no, they cited conflicting schedules. Which hurt, but was fine, because people had lives. I'm allowed to be hurt by it, but that doesn't mean my feelings clouded my logic so much that I expected they should drop everything for me. But, what hurt more was that they often said yes... And then ghosted me. Or avoided my calls. Or answered just to tell me they were busy, that they would call me back, and cut the call.

They never called me back.

Frankly, at first, however hurt and upset I was, I tried to give them the benefit of the doubt. Maybe I was too sensitive. Maybe I was reading too much into it. People had lives, after all...

It went on for months until I couldn't push away my feelings as illogical anymore. And even then, I thought it was my fault. I thought my grief was too much for other people. I thought, since I was intense and highly sensitive, that maybe I was just too much in general. So I tried to curb it and not say anything. I thought it was my fault that I was grieving and so my energy was just too intense.

I tried to silence myself, which resulted in me accidentally speaking about things without stopping to random acquaintances. That was embarrassing and I felt bad about it and I always apologized after my bout of verbal diarrhea had ended. And after the 2nd time it happened, I was extra vigilant not to let it happen again. Speaking into a private recorder without stopping, like an audio diary, helped a lot with that control.

But, here's the thing. (And therapy helped me realize this.) I hadn't asked for too much. I was asking for the bare minimum. But even that was too much for the people around me who I had given the same kind of support to numerous times. In fact, the moment I couldn't carry that role, I guess I just wasn't important enough to engage with at all.

Frankly, as angry as my rant might have sounded, the truth is that I don't even think it was maliciously done. Rather, it was like they didn't know how to play any other role that didn't place me as their emotional support and calm center. And the moment they needed to play that role even at the minimum, they just ran away.

To be honest, maybe I should not have been surprised at my family members reacting this way. They all have poor emotional intelligence. But I had not known they would run away because they were so afraid of another person's emotional vulnerability -- and that their EQ was more akin to a rock's. 😑😒

I had expected more from my friends and some of my cousins, tho. And that had been the real heartbreak...

So yeah, reaching out to your support system in times of trial is all well and good. But first, you must have a support system, and then that support system must be willing to try and give you support.

[journalofanangel]

what causes me to self destruct?

the fear of losing, the fear of missing out, the fear of disappointing someone (regardless of our relationship or how close we are), the fear of being hurt or abandoned... i also overthink and blame myself and can't separate myself from my thoughts and emotions.

I feel pressured, ashamed, and anxious. I get a rush of adrenaline that is mostly, if not entirely, shame and anxiety. I get nervous and, even if I feel like I'm thinking clearly, I'm still irrational and I can't put two and two together. this might have to do with my disorders unfortunately.

If you label yourself as a bad person, you’ll start to believe that something’s inherently wrong with you and that you’ll never improve. Instead, by thinking of yourself as a good, worthy person who makes mistakes, you give yourself permission to grow. (quote)

i struggle with understanding why my friends think im a good person, why they love me, or why they don't think I'm a horrible person. i feel a lot of shame around who I am, where I come from, and the lies I've told. i feel like I have so many reasons to feel horrible and I feel like others should think I'm horrible too.

i know there's something positive to take from this but I'll add that on later.

you could tell yourself that you are allowed to choose a healthy alternative to your self-destructive behavior. For instance, you could turn to alcohol when you’re in pain, but you’re also allowed to call your friend for support.

the important thing for my to remember is that I'm allowed to rely on people. i can't consistently rely on most of the people around me because I don't feel understood or safe around them. i feel like if i don't have someone to ground me, i spiral. i can ground myself at times but then i still get scared. i get scared so easily unfortunately.

my friends have told me it's okay to reach out and rely on them. it's okay to ask for help, it's okay to talk to them, it's okay. i never really feel safe around my family though. i feel so disgusting around them. they say they're happy to be part of these things but it feels so gross every time. i don't want to be around them.

i wanna feel safe... i wish this one friend could feel safe around me but with this kind of behaviour and this mindset, I get why she can't. i understand why.

i wanna find some healthier coping mechanisms that work in the moment, things that can help me slow down when I can't rely on others.. I'd like to not be so dependent.

If avoiding self-destruction is intensely difficult, try waiting 30 minutes to engage in the behavior instead of acting on the impulse right away.

I've tried this, I think I just need to dedicate myself to it. especially when I feel myself having doubts that end up being true...

Overcoming self-destructive behavior is not an overnight process. Practicing self-compassion and forgiveness is essential as you work toward healthier coping skills. When you’ve relied on self-destructive actions to numb your pain for so long, you likely feel some degree of mental, emotional, or physical addiction to the behaviors.

I always expect to heal overnight, I expect to fuck up once then never do it again.. I never expect kindness or forgiveness, i scare myself into acting how I think I "should" and then inevitably end up shaming myself into acting a certain way.

this is really hard. i feel horrible but I'm trying to improve, I just hate hurting people over and over like this. im tired of disappointing people. I've been tired of this. it's so hard being consistent. it's hard but I'm trying. I've stopped caring if people notice or if they care, this isn't about them at this point. it's for me and, inevitably, the people I love. i can't keep shaming myself and running away.

I should bring this up to my therapist. this can be something she helps me with. i want to stop focusing on the past and putting so much energy into feeling bad or being angry about what's already happened. I want to heal, I want to do better.

i want to love people without deeply wounding them. i know the hurt and the mistakes are inevitable, we're only human after all and love is a complicated thing, but I want to love them anyway.

I want to love and I want to be good. I want to feel whole and safe.

saturday march 4th 2023 2030

[crimsonrae]

Disintegration

Chapter Two

Summary: He witnessed the worst night of her life, he just never expected for her to become the love of his life.

KlausxCami

Warnings: Mentions of Domestic Abuse.

Rating: Mature

Chapter Two

2009

Amber liquid sat almost tauntingly within its iced tumbler as Camille stared aimlessly at the wall. Low chattering echoed dimly in her ears, but she registered little of the subdued crowd. She felt angry... no, she felt numb. Like a spindly serpent lying in wait for its prey, her anger lurked beneath the surface – its coil hardly tolerable.

Her fingers clenched around her glass, silently reveling in the wet dew that had coalesced on its exterior. It anchored her to the present even as she drifted in her scattered thoughts. Small bursts of Saturday played in her head, stuck like a broken reel. It was both a blur and all too clear. She could still feel the slick feel of Scott's blood on her hands, even as quips of conversation broke her reverie. Hours spent in the county jail had been nothing compared to the cold words from her mother and the stony silence that had followed her back to her dorm.

It had all become too much. She needed to get out.

It had occurred to her there was a certain amount of irony that she had taken refuge inside a bar. Not the one that she had beaten Scott to a pulp in – she was firmly banned from that establishment, but one across town. Away from campus and anyone who knew her. Camille tried not to pay too much mind to the fact that she was employing less than stellar coping mechanisms over the mess she had made of her life, but really, she was already on a roll of bad decisions. Why stop now?

Still...it was amazing how quickly everything had spiraled out of control.

One minute she had been a junior, set to finish her bachelor's degree with honors in the next year – now, with a court date set for next week and a meeting with the Dean's office tomorrow, it looked as if expulsion was on the horizon. And somehow that was at the bottom of her priority list. Felony assault and battery charges hovered over her head like an impending noose, not to mention, two parents infuriated with their daughter and the shame she had brought her family. She hardly cared that Scott was breathing from a tube in a hospital, she did care that Marnie hadn't called her.

Had she lost a friend as well as her academic career? She hadn't foreseen that... though, in truth, she hadn't put much thought into her actions. She had simply reacted and that – that wasn't like her.

"Penny for your thoughts, love."

Camille nearly jolted at the honey grizzled voice that chimed next to her table. She glanced up into a pair of oddly familiar cerulean eyes that shined curiously at her. It took her a moment to place him, and it was only as his lips curled into a self-satisfied smirk that she remembered.

He had been there.

Entertained by the entire debacle.

Now, that's what I call a show.

Her hidden ire rumbled in the face of her spectator. How she had hated his delight. It annoyed her that he had found her now when she wanted nothing more than to be left alone.

Pursing her lips distastefully, she arched a brow, "They're not for sale."

Her irritation was not lost on Klaus, if anything her dismissal amused him, "Come now, that's not true. Anything is for sale; it all depends on the price."'

"Well unless you have a time machine, I don't think you'll be able to afford my thoughts." Camille muttered wearily as she sipped from her glass. She pointedly turned her gaze away, making it silently clear she was done with him.

Yet, Klaus had never been one to let a challenge go untested. He found himself slipping into the chair across from her, much to Camille's exasperation, "Now why would you want a time machine? Please tell me, it's not to go back and stop yourself from beating that pillock from the other night half to death. Such passion should never be undone or regretted."

Camille arched a brow, nonplused by his words, "Not everyone views such acts of violence with the same enjoyment as you did... I don't believe that I invited you to sit. I'm not particularly in the mood for company."

"Yes, you've been quite rude." Klaus intoned almost cheerfully as he signaled for a waiter – now he was making it silently clear that he had no intention to leave, "That's alright, I don't mind a bit of surliness. I've been known to be a rather temperamental creature myself... but let's be honest here, love, while I may have enjoyed your spirited attack, you enjoyed committing it more."

She hated the truth that rang in his words. Stifling a sigh, Cami tossed back the rest of her drink and dropped a few bills on the table. She came here to get away, not to be harassed.

She wasn't granted the chance to stand as his fingers entrapped her wrist, "Let me go."

"Stay." Klaus implored, loosening his grip, but not removing his touch, "I won't speak of your little... incident if you do not wish it. I have several hours to kill, and you are by the far the most interesting person I've run into today. Please, keep me company."

Despite her desire to depart, her curiosity glimmered faintly at his words, "Is that why you seemingly tracked me down? Boredom?"

"Hardly tracked you down, love." Klaus said after placing an order for two more drinks with the waiter. "You're in the pub of my hotel. Merely, came downstairs and saw you."

Camille blinked before she sat back and viewed the bar through new eyes. There was an entranceway toward the back that she now realized led into a lobby. Marble floors and polished banisters gleamed through the glass door. It fairly screamed expensive. It also explained the quietness of a bar... the stillness that had drawn her inside.

Klaus watched her perusal with muted amusement, "You have no idea where you are. Not that you're in a bad neighborhood, mind you, but it is foolish to not have your bearings about you."

Camille silently stifled her unease as again his words rang true. A sense of danger lurked with his presence that she was only beginning to acknowledge, but something kept her survival instincts from fully sounding off.

"I wasn't really..." She trailed off as she realized her words would only reinforce his point about being foolish.

He knew it too.

His head tilted to the side and his eyes softened with an understanding that she swore he shouldn't have. It was similar to the way he had looked at her as she had been carted off by the police... Cami didn't understand why it had seemed to soothe and irritate her then, and she still didn't understand it now.

"Running away, were you?" Klaus intoned sagely, "I know a fair bit about that, but you don't strike me as the type to run from a situation. What demons plague you, aside from the obvious?"

Cami snorted and wondered if this counted as talking about her incident, but found herself replying, "Demons is a bit harsh... and why would I tell you, Nosey Stranger, anything about my demons?"

Klaus grinned and was stalled from answering as their drinks arrived, "Well conversation is easier when at least one party opens up, no? And you can call me Klaus. Niklaus Mikaelson."

"Cami." She returned softly, "Why don't we focus on you, instead? What brings you to my little corner of the word, Klaus?"

"I am not nearly that interesting."

"I somehow doubt that."

"Doubt all you like, but I could say the same of you."

"Could you?" Cami said almost teasingly as a smirk tugged at her lips.

Klaus huffed a low laugh as he conceded, "Well, I could if you told me about yourself."

They were flirting, Cami noted distantly as they exchanged not-quite-shy smiles again. Her head spun – how had this happened? She had been thoroughly annoyed with this man not even ten seconds ago. And while some of that sentiment still lurked, she now could only think about how handsome he looked when he smiled... actually smiled, not smirked.

One thing was for certain, she wasn't feeling quite so numb anymore... and she wasn't sure that was necessarily a good thing. Despite how handsome the man before her was or how charming he was turning out to be, she had the distinct impression that she was a match strike away from playing with fire.

"How about a question for a question?" She proposed almost absently and nearly cursed as soon as the words left her tongue.

Klaus considered her offer with shrewd eyes, "Any question?"

A reluctant sigh left Cami, "Let me guess, you have a question about Saturday night?"

"A few." Klaus acknowledged with a sly quirk to his lips, "But mainly one pressing one."

She shook her head and dragged the untouched drink he had bought her to her side. If they were going to play this game she would need the alcohol, "Fine. Ask."

"What did he do?" Klaus asked quietly as she hesitated, her glance almost suspicious – he explained, "In two minutes of conversation, I've ascertained that you are not a rash person. A bit foolhardy perhaps, but you've been moderately cautious since I've engaged your interest. You also don't strike me as the type to attack someone without reason. So, what was your reason? What did he do?"

There was a long silence as Camille gauged what she wanted to impart. Several glib answers rested on her tongue, non-answers that would dismiss his question and move their conversation on, but the truth burned in her throat. It would be nice to tell someone who didn't know her, who didn't know Scott or Marnie, who wasn't there to judge her actions as just or fair what her motivation had been...

"I have a roommate. We've roomed together the last three years – and she's great. Sweet, shy. I couldn't have picked a better roommate... or friend." Camille started quietly. She ignored the lick of angry flames that sparked in her belly, "She met him a few months ago and they hit it off immediately. I liked him. He was funny and he brought her out of her shell."

A wave of nausea swarmed her simmering fury and she paused as she remembered the carefree way Scott would greet her. The little presents that he would bring for Marnie. Those gifts seemed so more insidious now that she realized those parcels showed up after every incident.

Klaus waited patiently, somehow knowing not to speak as she sought the proper words. Her jade eyes had deepened to a sparking emerald, imbued with dark emotion.

"Then one day she came back to our room. Her shirt was covered in blood, a plaster taped over her nose, and two black eyes. He had hit her. Only once she said. It was an accident she said, but he broke her nose." Camille swallowed and resisted the urge to ball her fist, "She refused to go to the RA or the Dean or any other official and just waved me off. It wouldn't happen again, and I knew that was bullshit. I knew..."

The shiver of rage in her tone struck a chord within Klaus as he watched her. Any hint of his earlier joviality and curiosity had vanished in the face of her anguish. His own anger growled in answer to hers – he had never been one to shy away from violence, but brutish nonsensical abuse had always been and always would be a sore point for him.

"How many times?" The question slipped out before he could stop it.

If Camille had been paying closer attention, she would have noticed the almost eerie calm that had leveled his voice. Instead, she shook her head, "Too many."

Another sip from her glass, "He sent her to the hospital Friday night. Two broken ribs and a concussion. I had been with her all night, and I just couldn't go back to our dorm, so I wandered. I wandered and before I knew it, I was inside the campus bar and there he was... Scamming on a freshman. Both of them laughing at some stupid funny joke he had said, as if it were just another Saturday. As if he hadn't just pulverized his girlfriend and left her to rot in a hospital as if he hadn't been getting away with much of the same for months. I was so incredibly angry and all I wanted was to make him stop."

Warm skin brushed across hers and she glanced down to see he had cradled her hand. She was trembling. It was so faint, but the box that she had been stowing all her wildly out of control emotion into had been pried open with his question.

His fingers curled into her palm like an anchor into the seabed and she smiled bitterly, "Still think you received a good show?"

It took Klaus a second to remember his words from that night, but he didn't scowl.

No.

His smile was tinged with undue pride and awe, "I think you just made it even better. I had initially thought you to be some hellcat. Sent into a jealous rage at capturing your boyfriend cheating. The truth is far more satisfying. You're a protector. If anything, I stand by my earlier sentiment. Do not regret your actions, Camille."

She blinked at hearing her full name cross his lips, most assumed her name was Cameron when she introduced herself as Cami, "My name, how...?"

Klaus smirked, "Camille O'Connell, you are under arrest."

His voice was flat with an American intonation, but what part of America she was unsure as his little gimmick threw her from her despair into a baffled disquiet.

Slowly she cringed, "Okay, one – don't ever do that accent again. Just... no. Two – no one calls me, Camille, unless I'm in trouble. It's a grandma's name."

Klaus bit back a laugh as he pressed with his fake accent again, "What? You mean this voice? I think it's uh, rather convincing."

Camille shivered; it was almost like nails on a chalkboard when he spoke like that, but the tension her little story had engendered dissipated, and she felt a coil within her loosen.

She couldn't stop her snicker as she begged, "Stop, please. It's just not right. It doesn't fit you at all. Smarmy Brit is much more your style."

"Smarmy Brit?" Klause threw back almost indignantly, "You wound me, Camille."

"Somehow I think that's hard to do." She countered sagely, but she couldn't keep a grin from her mien. She appreciated his levity.

Klaus arched a brow, "You'd be surprised. Sometimes it doesn't take much at all to wound me."

"Oh?"

"A beautiful woman maligning my character five minutes after meeting me. Stings a bit, love." He answered indulgently, but there was a mischievous glint in his gaze that belied his words.

Cami giggled quietly, "You don't think you're smarmy?"

"I prefer the word charming." The faux innocent look he flashed her had them both grinning, "And I believe it is your turn to ask a question."

There were several that had erupted in her thoughts as they had spoken, but it was hard to choose just one. Part of Cami was grateful that he had lobbed such a hardball as a first question because it gave her clearance to do the same.

"What are you running away from? You said you had some experience with it earlier." Cami finally asked, figuring it would also answer the question of what he was doing here. Two answers for the price of one.

Like with Cami, Klaus sat in a long silence as he thought over his answer. Now he was the one who wished he had placed restrictions on these questions, but unlike Camille, he had no compunctions about lying. After all, they were still strangers, and he was still debating whether to continue their acquaintanceship after they parted ways. He had half a mind to seduce her, drink her, and dump her... but the more time he spent with her the less he wanted to dump her – at least right away. Camille was proving to be very intriguing indeed.

"Family. I'm running from family." Klaus announced, surprising even himself with the truth, "More specifically my father... though my brother is currently a close second."

Camille frowned, not liking the shine of pain in his eyes before he shifted to something more blank, more superficial. Perhaps her question wasn't the gem she had originally thought it to be.

At her muted concern, Klaus smiled bitterly, "My father has no love for me. Even less after it was discovered I was a product of my mother's infidelity. He's been bent on making my life a misery for as long as I can remember. The more distance I can put between him and myself the better."

"And your brother?" Cami pressed almost reluctantly, at once curious and hesitant about requesting such personal information.

"Has a great love for me actually and I, him. But I've... upset him and he needs some time to calm down." It was the most tactful way that Klaus could think to say Elijah was furious with him for daggering their siblings and supposedly dumping their bodies into the ocean. While the first part was true, the second was not... and he was not prepared for his older brother to discover that fact just yet.

An odd mildly entertained expression crossed Camille's face as she puzzled over his words. More questions surged to the forefront, but with great control, she managed to restrain herself... at least for the moment.

Klaus seemed to sense her desire as he cocked his head to the side and grinned, or she was simply terrible at hiding her thoughts, "You want more details."

Almost embarrassingly, she sipped from her glass as she fought a sheepish smile, "I really do."

"And you called me nosey? Sorry, love, you're just going to have to wait." He taunted lightly as she scowled at him.

He was saved from her retort as her phone chose that moment to sound off. Her previous merriment dulled in the face of the device's alarm and fell further as she glanced at the screen. Klaus watched as she reluctantly clicked the phone silent after responding with a text and turned remorseful eyes to him. This would be their parting it seemed.

"Such a dour glance. My last question then, who's beckoning you?" Klaus asked gently, an unexpected jolt of jealousy scoured his veins at her answer.

"My boyfriend." She quirked her lips self-consciously. She had no obligation to inform him of her relationship status and their conversation while personal, had always meant to stay a conversation... at least on her end. Yet, she felt a strange sense of guilt – she felt like she had led him on, "I should be going. It was nice to meet you, Klaus... and thank you for the drink."

Klaus tightened his grip over her hand, both had forgotten he had still been holding it, but now it worked in his favor. He wasn't ready for their conversation to end, "Stay, Camille. By the look on your face, it's what you would rather be doing."

Timidly, she squeezed his hand back, but her rueful smile told him that he was fighting a losing battle. He was tempted to compel her... but somehow that felt like the wrong move for this particular moment.

"He's worried about me. Everyone's worried about me. Or angry. This was a nice reprieve. One I really needed, but I have to go before that worry goes to def-con four." She said almost deprecatingly and moved to stand.

Cami was surprised when he stood with her until she felt him slip her phone from her other hand. A word of protest played on her lips at the theft, but she stayed her tongue as she watched him deftly enter his phone number. It was slightly embarrassing that he had caught her passcode pattern so easily. He must have the eyes of a hawk. He hit the call button and his phone vibrated in his pocket for a moment before going silent again.

Klaus returned her phone with a genial smile, "There. Should you need another reprieve, simply call. I'll be in town for a while and more than happy to indulge you."

"That was bold." She murmured, "Giving your number to a girl who just told you, she has a boyfriend."

He shrugged indifferently, "Fortune favors the bold, does it not?"

Cami snorted and shook her head, "Goodbye, Klaus."

"Goodbye, Camille." Klaus murmured, brushing his lips to her cheek.

The act startled her and brought a lovely blush to her smooth skin. He had no intention of this being their last encounter. Camille O'Connell would see him again. His cerulean eyes danced deviously as he watched her turn to go.

She glanced at him over her shoulder, and he was surprised to see a puckish light in her sylvan gaze, "Definitely smarmy."

Klaus choked on an unexpected laugh before he found himself calling through the pub, "Charming, love."

______________________

Hours later, Klaus remained at the little corner table in the pub. He had steadily nursed several drinks as he kept an eye out for a potential dinner – finding himself feeling pickier than usual about his fare. He was tempted to send Camille a text. She had been reluctant enough to leave that enticing her to return shouldn't have been much of a battle. He regretted not pressing his advantage earlier. They could have spent the afternoon in his bed, sated in every possible way.

Sighing in boredom, he ran an idle finger around the rim of his tumbler generating a low hum. His thoughtless gesture brought a few curious and annoyed looks from the nearby patrons, but no one had the gall to say anything. Something dark and angry lingered in Klaus's stiff presence that discouraged social interaction of any kind.

"Well, you look positively morose."

And yet not all were so cowardly.

Klaus smirked at the amused lilt that sounded behind him. He arched a brow as he awarded the young woman behind him a small smile, "Greta... you've arrived sooner than I expected. Fruitful day, love?"

"Yes and no." Greta answered loftily as she came to stand next to the table, "The witch we're looking for is proving rather difficult to scrounge up, though her boyfriend has been the source of a lot of gossip but..."

"But?" Klaus intoned softly, a dangerous edge tinging his voice. His mood for games had dissipated with the sun.

"He's in the hospital. Unconscious, someone caved his head in apparently. He would need some of your blood to be revived enough to get any information from him." She smirked, knowing how much Klaus loved to do such things, "That is if you're feeling generous."

Niklaus frowned; it would be too convenient... "What's the boyfriend's name?"

"Scott Nebroski." Greta answered simply with a raised brow.

The name had no meaning to Klaus. Camille hadn't mentioned any names when she had recounted her motives to him – and he didn't recall a name being spoken when the paramedics had arrived at the campus pub. Though to be fair, he had lost interest in the whole affair once Camille had been taken to the squad car.

Her fiery emeralds would forever be etched into his memory. There had been a moment where he had thought that she'd break from the officer's grasp and swing at him before something fragile... vulnerable had crossed her gaze and he had to fight the urge to go to her.

It had been an odd night.

"When was he attacked?"

Greta shrugged, "A couple of nights ago, I think. Some chick took a beer bottle to him. A lover's quarrel is the rumor. In which case, it should make him more willing to cooperate with us. He'd probably be looking for a little revenge."

A slow grin spread across Klaus's face – what were the odds?

"It wasn't our little witch who tore into him, love." Klaus murmured, "How long would we need to wait before you could conduct the ceremony?"

"The estival solstice isn't for almost eight weeks, that's when the spell will be at its strongest. We have some time." Greta replied softly as she watched the wheels spin in her master's head. She hadn't expected him to take the news of this current delay so well... but the calm, almost pleased smile playing at his lips spoke to plans with which she had no knowledge of, "The boyfriend?"

"He can enjoy his stay in the hospital for a while." Klaus said after a long moment. He refused to heal the cretin that had rightfully earned his beating at Camille's hands. He would not deny her victory, "Tomorrow I want you and Maddox to find out everything you can about Camille O'Connell. She's Marnie Taylor's roommate and friend... she'll lead us to our little witch."

Gently, Klaus reached out for Greta's hand, bringing her delicate fingers to his mouth as he pressed a kiss to her smooth flesh. He was feeling a tad grateful for the news she had delivered him, and she smelled sweet, like honeysuckle and ivy. His fangs edged at the inner muscle of his cheek, reinforcing his hunger... but he wouldn't bite her here.

Klaus stood and placed a few bills on the table, "Keep me company tonight."

It sounded like a request, but Greta heard the implied order to his tone. She could say no, and Klaus wouldn't bat an eye. She was under no illusion that she was more than a tool in his arsenal. Problem was, she had never been able to say no to him. Not to his power, not to his hunger, and not to his bed. She fully enjoyed being possessed by him. It was the shame that she could not possess him.

She peered slyly at him, "Merely company?"

An indulgent hum purred from Klaus's throat before he pressed his lips teasingly to the corner of her mouth, "You could never be merely anything, love... but I desire this luscious mouth of yours to be otherwise occupied."

Greta's smile turned sinful, "As you wish."

He breathed a kiss to her neck before turning to escort her upstairs. His soul ached for a taste of the hunt... something that Greta could not provide him – she was all too willing to fall into his clutches. She was decadence, chocolate, and champagne. Simply divine.

For tonight she would sate his baser urges, but tomorrow...

Tomorrow he would go after that which was not yet his. Fiery emeralds glinted in his mind's eye. Tomorrow, he would go after whiskey and smoke. Hidden passion.

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[angelicamerlinbarnes]

TUA DISNEY AUs: Big Hero 6 (Pt. XVIII)

(please understand that by AU, I mean they share an incredibly small amount of things in common with the original source material which I barely remember BUT the “story” takes place in the setting of the film) (not to be misleading or anything :p)

(BEWARE: abuse, murder, corruption, mental health issues, unhealthy coping mechanisms, suicidal ideation, death, grief, violence, basically i took the sad montage after Tadashi dies and just kept going with that except without the whole "getting better" thing, sorry, my bad, enjoy anyway i guess i don't know, bye, etc.)

(If you can handle watching Umbrella Academy, this will be fine for you.)

(Hiro) Vanya hasn’t much of a head for science - not since a gas explosion in her childhood apartment killed her parents and exposed her to radiation, leaving her brittle-boned and sickly. She spends most of her days holed up in her room, reading and writing about every little thing she sees and hears and feels. There’s this cat in the alleyway she feeds sometimes, and her friend Ben who comes by to see how she is every few days. The only time she goes out is for school, or bot fights down in the bad neighborhoods. At those she gets to see Ben, and his partner Klaus and his friend Diego. Oh, and Sissy - the beautiful, shy punk girl who spins the records in the corner store. Vanya lives what she considers a pretty average life - until Ben dies, she screams, and all the windows around her shatter from nothing.

(Tadashi) Ben has been a science nerd for years, spending hours in the libraries and labs researching every little thing that catches his fancy. His partner, Klaus, has no such interest, having more of a head for poetry, but Ben loves him more than life itself - especially since Klaus was the only person who stuck with him when one of his experiments went wrong a few years ago, resulting in tentacles that are prone to ripping out of his chest when he’s angry. And since he loves Klaus so much, he spares not a second thought to running back into a burning building to get him back, even when it means certain death. And Ben knows you can’t bring back the dead - he tried when Klaus’ beloved boyfriend Dave died in a gunfight a few years back. Once you’re gone, you’re gone - or so he thinks until he wakes up and Klaus starts crying and muttering, You’re here, you’re here, you’re here, I did it, I did it, I did it - and Ben reaches out and thinks, Oh, no, sweetheart. You didn’t.

(Honey Lemon) Allison was engaged to Ray before he disappeared, but even after that failed experiment lost her the love of her life, she continued to work for the forward movement of science and kept her vow of love to Ray. Using her research, she managed to create a pill that allowed her to bend reality, hoping to bring back Ray. Though she couldn’t raise the dead - no amount of I heard a rumor Ray was alive again worked - she won herself other advantages with her newfound powers, including sponsors, knowledge, opportunities, and protection. Klaus, Diego, Five, and Ben are her only true friends in this world - and she nearly loses all of them when Ben dies, drowning in their grief. When Luther, one of Five and Ben’s passion projects starts hanging around to monitor their mental health, Allison finds a new kind of love - deep, ever-lasting friendship that she’ll never give up. Even when they have to leave him behind on the moon after they save Ray, she doesn’t let him go - she finally knows how to speak up for what she wants, and speak up she does: I heard a rumor that Luther came back to me.

(Fred (actually a mash-up of Honey Lemon and Hiro though to be honest)) Klaus is a starving artist and poet, and he's covered in tattoos of his own words and drawings. Diego is too, because Diego loves him, and Klaus wants to love him back and probably does already, if he’s really honest with himself, but he’s not ready yet. Dave happened too soon ago. And then there was a fire, and Klaus was running around outside, looking for Ben, looking for the platonic love and light of his life, and he saw him run inside screaming Klaus’ name and never come back out. And he lives with that guilt every day, smoking and drinking all the bad shit again in an effort to just forget, forget, anything goddamn anything to forget, and he goes crazy. People forget, because he’s not a student at their nerd school and because he acts like a dumbass, that Klaus is actually just as much a genius as the rest of them, and whatever he wants, he can get without much trouble. So what if he can’t bring back the dead? He won’t live without Ben, he won’t, and he won’t leave Diego - which leaves only one option, really: find a way to make himself see ghosts.

(Wasabi) Diego lives a charmed life. Truly. He’s almost been assassinated fifteen fucking billion times, his two best friends are robots, and he’s in love with a person too sad to love him back. See, Diego’s skills brought him to the military’s special attention - he found a way to make weaponry that doesn’t obey the laws of physics. He keeps it as secret as he can, and will sell it to nobody, but millions of people are still after it. It’s not until one of the assassins almost nails Klaus with a bullet and Diego kills her with a store-bought kitchen knife without moving that he realizes the weaponry he created isn’t special, but Diego is. From then on it’s nothing but trouble - because Klaus likes to dumb himself down, but he can’t fool Diego, and so when he starts screaming at empty air and calling it Ben, Diego isn’t surprised in the least, though maybe he should be. Instead he just sighs, opens his arms, and lets a sobbing Klaus fall into him, loving him more than he did yesterday and less than he will tomorrow. Diego has his home, and he has his people, and he has his powers - and he will defend them to the fucking death.

(Gogo) Five is bitter and grumpy, living off coffee and perpetually crazy. He’s brilliant enough to have done surgery on himself, implanting an AI pacemaker in his heart named Dolores from an accident that nearly stripped him of everything, his life included. He was born with special powers, both of which fuelled his fascination with science, but he keeps that secret close to his chest - he’s seen what people do to Diego and Allison, and he has no interest in that. He’s close with the others, somewhat, though his impassable genius makes it difficult for people to understand him - Diego gives him piggy back rides and he often falls asleep curled into Klaus’ side, and Allison gives him rides home and Ben builds robots with him. But as hard as he finds it to connect with them, it’s even harder to lose them - so when he realizes he can use his time travel powers to save Ben, he doesn’t hesitate. And then he’s dying in Klaus’ arms, and he’s watching as his favorite person in the world chooses to lose the love of his life all over again to save Five, and something deep inside him changes.

(Baymax) Luther is a medical robot, built by Five and Ben in their spare time. There are some videos in him, mostly of Ben talking to Klaus because Luther was meant to be a gift for Klaus to help him with his depression, anxiety, PTSD, anorexia, and addiction, etc.. Five adds grief counseling to his programming and gives him to Klaus on his first birthday after Ben’s death, making Klaus dissolve into tears. While Luther clashes with Diego, who hates him for surviving where Lila didn’t, they get along well enough to appease Klaus, because Luther knows Klaus loves Diego and Diego knows Luther helps Klaus. When they travel to the moon to get Ray, Luther winds up stuck there, unable to get the others home if he doesn’t stay behind. Klaus and Allison both have trouble letting him go, but Klaus forces Allison to come home with him, crying as he leaves Ben for the third and final time. When Allison brings Luther back, his videos still intact, Klaus touches Ben’s face on his chest and cries, cries, cries.

Lila is a malfunctioning masterpiece, and Diego’s best friend. He made her as a help robot, but she’s a prototype, and was rejected for her proneness to violent outbursts and catatonic episodes. She’s easy to manipulate, as Diego never bothered to fix her security protocols, but it’s not like there’s anyone else who talks to her - except Five, and he’d never touch her programming without Diego’s explicit permission. She sleeps at Diego’s house, in her charging station next to Eudora’s. Lila knows robots can’t feel love, so that isn’t what she’s feeling - but her wires are tied to Eudora’s in some way, she just knows it. They’re two halves of the same code. But she never gets to explore that link - she burns away to nothing in the fire that destroys the Handler’s minions, using the last of her strength to save Five from the flames. She hopes, when Diego finds his baby brother curled in her charred corpse, that he’ll bury her in the rain, and keep on living without her well enough.

Eudora is a suicide-prevention robot. Seriously. That’s all she’s here for. Ben and Diego built her together for Klaus specifically, programming her with some of his favorite jokes and references so she’d have an easier time talking him down from the edge when one of them can’t be there. She’s programmed to instantly call Ben, Diego, Five, or Allison immediately if she finds him doing dangerous things, like playing with Diego’s knives naked. (It happened one time. Seriously. True story.) She’s calm and gentle, unruffled and kind, and Diego often spends hours talking to her, because she may be programmed for Klaus but she can still help anyone who needs it. He nearly looses her to Cha-Cha, but Klaus saves her just in time, beating Cha-Cha to a steaming hunk of scrap metal with a baseball bat for trying to hurt his best (robot) friend. She’s not saddened by Lila’s death, per say, she can’t be… but when she’s downloading databases on panic and anxiety attacks for Diego and Klaus, she makes sure to save some on insomnia for herself, too.

Sissy is a botfighter, one who dresses in a black and magenta punk aesthetic to fend off strangers, too shy for the world. She messes around with Vanya, the two of them often dancing in the rain and finding joy in the small moments, but happily ever after was never in the cards for them. Sissy lives with her abusive boyfriend Carl and has their son to take care of, an accident from too many beers - when Carl murders her in a drunken rage, it’s less of a surprise and more of a solemn inevitably. Her son, Harlan, is placed in Vanya’s care, and Vanya travels the world with him, telling him everything about his mother she knows. It’s a bittersweet ending, but a hopeful one too.

Ray was a student at the nerd school before he became a therapist, using his incredible mind-healing technology to help people all over the world. Allison fell in love with him quickly, easily, and the two were engaged before the year was up, planning for a spring wedding in which Klaus would, obviously, be the flower girl. But when he was offered the chance to go to space as a therapist for the other nine people on the mission, he jumped at the chance, bidding Allison goodbye and heading to the moon. But something went wrong and he was lost to the world, along with the other nine astronauts, all of whom died when the ship crash-landed. Ray has been in a coma for years there, having been knocked out in the explosion, and remains that way until Luther brings him home, Allison having come for him at last. (When he’s well enough to, he takes care of Five, Klaus, and Diego, whose mental states have been steadily declining for years. Their robots are brilliant, of course, but there are some things you just need a human for.)

Reginald is the dean of the nerd school and also an asshole. He has a habit of killing students when they get in his way, or to steal their inventions as his own - and he gets away with it too, because he’s at the forefront of memory technology and quite literally erases these people from existence so nobody comes asking questions. Plus he’s got connections in the government that destory any records he needs destroyed. He had a couple of kids he wanted to get rid of the night of the showcase, and started the fire to make it seem like an accident - well, Ben actually was an accident, he wasn’t on Reginald’s hitlist, not yet, but whatever. It is what it is. What Reginald doesn’t anticipate is Klaus - because nobody ever anticipates Klaus - and so he thinks nothing of it when he confesses to Ben’s murder in his monologue in front of all his former students. He can just erase their memories later. Or so he thinks, until Klaus lets out a savage war cry and lunges forward to strangle him, killing him in cold blood without a second thought, and so is the end of Reginald Hargreeves. (Five takes the fall for his murder - not that it matters. Diego and Klaus break him out and the three of them disappear, never to be seen again - at least, not until Allison’s done manipulating every single person in the world into forgetting it ever happened on live TV.)

The Handler is Reginald’s finest invention: a flawless AI in a perfect human body. Problem is, she became bored of being his servant years ago and took over his life, blackmailing him into doing whatever she wants. Most of the killings are still his idea, and Ben certainly wasn’t her fault, but it’s the Handler who wants Five dead, and it’s the Handler who sends her reject minions after him. She wants Eudora dead and she wants Klaus deader, but she gets neither - Five finds her and hacks her into little tiny pieces, putting all of them in a fire and then shoving those ashes into an Iron Maiden, dropping the Handler to an inescapable grave. Fuck her “life”.

Hazel is a teddy bear with a security camera in his stomach. He sits on Agnes’ counter in her donut shop, just watching the goings-on even though nobody ever steals anything there. Mostly he’s held in the lap of Five, who comes into Agnes’ whenever he doesn’t want his friends to see him cry - over a failed invention, Klaus’ most recent suicide attempt, Lila’s death - whatever, you name it. Agnes takes care of him, making him milkshakes when he asks for coffee, and eventually sends Hazel home with him, asking him to take care of Five for her. He doesn’t know it’ll be the last time he ever sees her - two weeks later Agnes is killed by Reginald and her donut shop is ransacked by looters. Her memory lives on in Hazel and Five, who rebuilds and reopens the shop with Klaus and Diego and Allison after a couple years, renaming it for Ben and living on despite his grief, and Hazel sits on the counter again, watching the sunset through the glowing windows.

Cha-Cha was supposed to be one of those “oh-hey-we’re-not-racist-anymore-we-make-black-dolls-too-see?” Barbies. She ended up with a rather experimental kid who enjoyed robotics and horror films, resulting in Cha-Cha: an AI in a Barbie with chainsaw arms. She kidnaps Klaus under the Handler’s orders, as he’s a connection to Five (who the Handler wants to kill) and Ben (who’s the only connection to Reginald and the Handler’s murders). This backfires spectacularly, of course, when Eudora and Diego come for him: Cha-Cha goes for Eudora’s throat and Klaus breaks himself free of his binds and beats her to smithereens with a baseball bat.

Leonard used to hang around Vanya, just generally assaulting her and being a creep, until suddenly he disappeared one rainy Monday never to be seen again. His body was found rotting in a lake a couple years later. It was revealed later on that he had decided to and succeeded in making real-life replicas of the Five Nights at Freddie’s characters, and they hadn’t been too fond of him trying to boss them around. The Handler recruited the replicas later on for her own schemes, and they followed Reginald rather well, their appetite for people satisfied well enough. But Leonard remains the school legend, and a striking reminder to be careful what monsters you let live.

Grace is the queen of the Land of the Remembered, and you may be wondering what she’s doing in this story. Well, to put it simply - Reginald’s little games have been messing with her shit. There are perfectly kind and memorable people who have come down to her only to be erased in the Land of the Living within the week, leaving her no choice but to take them in as refugees, working out a deal with the Land of the Forgotten since they weren’t given a fair shot at their deserved afterlife. She takes care of Ben when he dies for the second and final time, appearing to assure Klaus he’ll be alright when he crosses over. This is when Diego finally learns the truth about his mom, who has always been home in time to make dinner and never missed a single milestone, and who is apparently also an all-powerful goddess. She gives him a hug and tells him his boyfriend is cute (He’s not my boyfriend.) (You’re holding hands, darling. You may be an oblivious idiot, but I’m not.) and then she heads off, though she’s always back with Ben for the holidays. (Not Lila, unfortunately. She has no jurisdiction over robots.)

And Hiro is ace-aro and he and Miguel are QPPs, and Honey Lemon and Wasabi are QPPs, and Fred and Wasabi are dating, and Gogo is an bisexual aro queen with a girl she likes to kiss in the back alleyways, and Hiro has two sisters named Violet and Boo and Tip is his ace-aro lab partner. You’re welcome.

[thebluelemontree]

Is it wrong to say that Sansa uses an out of sight out of mind coping mechanism? I noticed it because it's what I do a lot. I know some ppl say she rewrites traumatic memories to make the memories bearable but it doesn't make sense. If that was how she coped, wouldn't she have been telling herself lies about Joffrey still in acok? Or found a way to erase/rewrite Marillion's attempt to rape her?

Yes and no. She does that except all the times she doesn’t. ;) I think that characterization is extremely reductionist (and ignores character complexity and  growth) when it’s applied that broadly to every situation Sansa has been in. You have to take these things instance by instance because they aren’t all the same. Sometimes that labeling doesn’t fit at all. In many cases, it feels more like the fandom pathologizing the act of romanticizing or trying to push aside or reframe something unpleasant or even traumatic when that’s just something most human beings do now and then. Some do it more than others, but its all within the realm of typical coping behavior and being older or more educated or more “logical” doesn’t make one immune to it. So I hope you don’t let those interpretations make you feel abnormal or more fallible for identifying with Sansa in that way. Romanticizing doesn’t even have to be about coping at all, but simply expressing desire through daydreams. People imagine being in idealized scenarios with crushes all the time.  

You also hit the nail on the head. Sansa just doesn’t go around making up false narratives about every objectively awful thing that happens to her. In fact, her actual responses to those moments can be a useful basis for comparison when we’re analyzing the unkiss, for example. Misunderstanding the unkiss is usually where a lot of these assumptions stem from. That’s a whole other can of worms in itself. The unkiss is just too long of a discussion to put here, so I just recommend this post as to the reasons why it isn’t about trauma and take a browse through my unkiss tag. It does bear repeating that Sansa factually remembers every scary thing that happened during the Blackwater and why it happened, indicating she has processed it honestly and critically, before any incarnation of the unkiss happens. The unkiss is a mismemory added on to the facts, which began as her being the actor that kissed him first. It’s not a lie to deny the facts or to excuse his behavior. It’s regrettable to her that Sandor was not able to be the person she could rely on to get her out of KL at that time. Nonetheless, this repressed desire is just so strong in her that it manifested in a kiss so real she could remember how it felt after the reality of his leaving KL for good sank in. 

Early AGOT Sansa tended to want to move past unpleasantness rather quickly. Just sweep those red flags under the rug so everything can go back to blissful harmony. Sansa is naturally averse to conflict and just wants her present with the royal family to be smooth sailing into a bright future. Ned had a very similar tendency when it came to concerns over Robert’s true character. He saw things that disturbed him, but he hoped and clung to his idea of Robert anyway. For Sansa, this resulted in some misplaced blame and rewriting events so she could deal with the aftermath. This is mostly seen in her processing the Mycah incident after Lady’s death and how her perception of all the characters involved shifted in varying ways. This is after she knew perfectly well what really happened, because Ned says Sansa had already told him the truth of what Joffrey did while Arya was still missing. However, it would also be unfair to completely chalk this up to Sansa’s idiosyncrasies. We have to put her flip-flopping in the context of the situation as well. She’s also experienced a gutting loss with Lady’s death and the fact that the first blow to her innocence was her father volunteering to put Lady down. She doesn’t have Catelyn to go to with her confusion and hurt, and Ned has largely been silent. She’s also still engaged to Joffrey through all this, this is still a patriarchy, there are political ramifications to speaking against a crown prince, and she doesn’t know how to deal with seeing such cruelty and vindictiveness in her future husband. Especially when he responded to her tender concern and wanting to help him with venom and hate. 

I mean, jeez, she’s 11. I don’t expect an 11 year old to understand how to identify the signs of emotional manipulation or see how this situation can escalate into domestic violence. Just because Sansa can’t articulate what is happening within her relationship with Joffrey, doesn’t mean she has blocked out any notion that Joffrey can turn his anger on her. Part of the reason she misplaces blame on Arya (and rewrites what happened) is because Joffrey turns scornful of Sansa for being a witness to his emasculating shame. He punishes her with the cold shoulder because she didn’t immediately take his side and pretended not to see instead. He regains power through making Sansa feel small and fearful of his moods. 

“He had not spoken a word to her since the awful thing had happened, and she had not dared to speak to him.” -- Sansa II, AGOT.

Sansa looked at him and trembled, afraid that he might ignore her or, worse, turn hateful again and send her weeping from the table. -- Sansa II, AGOT.

This is coming from someone who is supposed to love her and someone she will spend the rest of her life with. To fix things, she must be unequivocally on Joffrey’s side going forward or suffer the consequences, which we can see happening as her story completely flips over breakfast sometime later. This is not saying Sansa is fully exonerated from not supporting her sister when she needed her, but that it’s understandable how she arrived at this point. Even when things start to get really bad after Ned’s arrest, Sansa still holds out some hope that she can appeal to Joffrey’s (and Cersei’s) love for her to get him to be merciful. Is it really her fault she believed a part of Joffrey really loved her (and thus was reachable by her pleas) if he also heavily love bombed her and treated her like she was the most special girl in the world? Love bombing is a classic feature of the seduction phase leading up to abuse.  

So we can see Sansa does ignore truths and rewrite events sometimes and her personality is a factor; however, the context surrounding it matters a lot. Post Ned’s execution, Sansa does a full 180 regarding Joffrey and Cersei.

Sansa stared at him, seeing him for the first time. He was wearing a padded crimson doublet patterned with lions and a cloth-of-gold cape with a high collar that framed his face. She wondered how she could ever have thought him handsome. His lips were as soft and red as the worms you found after a rain, and his eyes were vain and cruel. "I hate you," she whispered. -- Sansa VI, AGOT.

Once she had loved Prince Joffrey with all her heart, and admired and trusted his mother, the queen. They had repaid that love and trust with her father's head. Sansa would never make that mistake again. -- Sansa I, ACOK. 

"A monster," she whispered, so tremulously she could scarcely hear her own voice. "Joffrey is a monster. He lied about the butcher's boy and made Father kill my wolf. When I displease him, he has the Kingsguard beat me. He's evil and cruel, my lady, it's so. And the queen as well." -- Sansa I, ASOS. 

There’s also her conscious efforts to push away thoughts of her dead family and Jeyne Poole, but she states why she does that. It’s traumatic, the tears start flowing uncontrollably, and she is desperately trying to avoid falling into another suicidal depression. Her survival in KL depends on her holding it together and appearing loyal and obedient to Joffrey. Mourning her loved ones would imply to Joffrey she is plotting treason. Besides, she knows that even if she did ask Cersei or LF about Jeyne, she has no reason to believe they’d do anything but lie to her face in a patronizing way. There’s no point being plagued with wondering what the truth might be when she can’t do anything about it. Still, she prayed for Jeyne wherever she might be. She genuinely thought Arya had made it to WF on the ship and was safe at least until she got word of her brothers’ deaths and her home being sacked by the Iron Born, though there was initially a touch of projection and fantasizing about Arya being free while she remains captured. As of Feast, she believes she is the last Stark left alive and she has no one but Littlefinger to help her. So while she is suppressing her grief, it’s done with good reason, and it’s not being replaced with any false narratives to cope. 

We also cannot ignore that her relationship to Sandor Clegane has instilled in her an appreciation for the un-sugarcoated truth now that she has experienced betrayal and injustice first hand. In his own way, he’s encouraged her to listen to her own inner bullshit detector. The rose-tinted glasses have become a lot more clear compared to where she started. This is a newly learned skill though, and her self-confidence has been wrecked by internalized verbal abuse. She’s also been left on her own to figure out people’s intentions by herself, which runs parallel to her mounting desperation to get out of KL as Joffrey’s violence escalates. Developing a touch more of a jaded, skeptical side does sometimes clash with her enduring idealism and faith in other people (like with the Tyrells). This struggle is not a bad thing. The goal isn’t to become as cynical as the Hound, but to arrive at an earned optimism that has been tempered by wisdom and practical experience.

Her situation with Littlefinger is much more challenging than anything she faced in KL. He moves her where he wants her to go with complex web of lies, manipulation, grooming, isolation, coercion, dependence, guilt and shame. Her safety and desire to go home are tightly bound to being complicit in his lies and criminal activities. She feels indebted to him for getting her out of KL, even though his methods push her past her boundaries and force her to compromise her moral integrity. The thing is, there are things Sansa does know about LF, but she doesn’t seem to be ready to try and put the puzzle pieces together. She’s not daring to ask probing questions about Lysa’s reference to the “tears” and Jon Arryn or about the possible dangers of Maester Colemon prescribing sweetsleep for Robert’s convulsions. While the subject of Jeyne’s fate is still one she doesn’t want to revisit, somewhere in her mind she does know LF took custody of her friend. If it feels like this is somewhat of a regression back to her early AGOT self, there’s probably some truth to that; however, it’s perfectly okay for positive character arcs to be an imperfect progress. There can be relapses, regressions, setbacks, missteps, and misguided actions. All that growth isn’t lost. Everything she knows is just stored in the back of her mind, not forgotten completely. The general trend line moves her toward successfully confronting Littlefinger with the truth when GRRM is ready to pull the trigger. She’s definitely aware of Littlefinger lying to her more than she lets on and she knows his help is not out of the kindness of his heart, but motivated by what he wants her to be to him. But it’s not like she has the option to go anywhere else, does she? She’s a wanted criminal with a bounty on her head and has no other friend or ally in the Vale she can trust with the truth of her identity. Confronting LF without any means of neutralizing his power over her isn’t the smartest thing to do when he’s shown her he can literally get away with multiple murders. Again, it’s not just her personality that makes her hesitant to pull back the veil and face the horrible truth head on. The outside forces pressuring her perceptions and behavior cannot be discounted either.    

[laceymorganwrites]

Brokenhearts Club: Stone Cold

Word count: 1,626

Pairing: none, Saeko x her husband

Warnings: angst, swearing, heartbreak, unrequited love

Song: Stone Cold - Demi Lovato

Taglist: @vicassa @ashhhh26 @luckypartyranchmug @chaelysian @2o-done @hoho-cham @thatnikkixx @solarskiesdream @mattsuns-prettybaby @moonlightaangel @madusas-girlfriend @d-angerboys @lulu-102 @anejuuuuoy @killmeplz-uwu @serihandfn @atsumubabe​ @chibioomi​ @onlyshinji​

Female reader

Stone cold, stone cold

You have known Saeko all your life. Starting from kindergarten, going to middle school and then to high school together. You were inseparable, far more than just best friends. You two spent so much time at the other´s house that your families already merged together. It was nice, or it would´ve been.

Such strong bonds, such a pure and wonderful friendship, you did everything together, shared everything. Well, almost everything.

But it was normal to keep secrets, wasn´t it? Especially when those secrets could destroy everything you have built over the years.

Well, it was your own fault. You shouldn´t fall for your best friend, that was common knowledge.

You see me standing but I´m dying on the floor

But you just couldn´t stop yourself, Saeko made it too easy.

She was too charming for her own good, too beautiful, too funny, too caring…

If only she liked women.

But then again, even if she did, you´d never be more than just friends.

It was a harsh truth that you realized over the years and the more time passed, the more it manifested.

The best choice would´ve been to break off contact with her to get over her, but how could you?

You´d rather live with your heartbreak than to ever live a life without Saeko in it.

Besides… you´d get used to the dull ache eventually.

That was what you had hoped all these years, an almost extinguished hope you just couldn´t let go no matter how much it hurt.

Maybe all of this made you a masochist.

But you didn´t care.

How could you care when you could see Saeko be happy and smile, fall in love? Even if it was not with you.

Even if it could never be with you. 

Maybe if I don´t cry I won´t feel anymore

You should distance yourself from her, you shouldn´t clutch onto her like she was the only thing keeping you alive. 

But you were too far gone at this point, too much in love, too dependent on her.

If you were to leave, you´d miss her touch and presence more than anything else

You´d always fall back into her arms whenever she hugged you out of joy, despite your heart hurting oh so much, you´d always let her compliment you when shopping together, living in your fantasy world where all of this meant something.

The worst thing was when she got a boyfriend and of course told you everything about it and him in great detail.

He was a great guy, really, you wished them the best, you knew that he could give Saeko everything she deserved and more, everything she ever wanted.

And still.

It wasn´t you.

The thought alone hurt so much it was almost unbearable, it was fucked up. You knew that Saeko was bound to fall in love with a man, you shouldn´t have held onto this false hope, she would never love you the way you loved her.

But you couldn´t control your emotions.

Especially not when she told you that they got engaged, asking you to be her bridesmaid and help her with the preparations.

This was it. The last piece of your heart shattering. 

You´re dancing with her while I´m staring at my phone

However the whole process, watching her be so happy with someone else, it brought you pain you didn´t even know you could feel.

You were with her when she got her dress, the decorations and the cake.

You were with her at every phone call, every important date and you hated it.

But most of all you hated yourself for desperately hanging on.

It was like you were dependent on her.

She was a virus in your life, eating away at all your hope and your fragile heart and you let her because it was so addicting, so ecstatic, so immaculate.

Yes, maybe you became more than a tad bit masochistic because of her.

And so what?

That was your way to cope…

Well, to run away from facing the truth, you desperately tried to hold up the facade of being just friends.

I was your amber, but now she��s your shade of gold

Everything came crashing down on you at Saeko´s bachelorette party.

It was bad enough to plan it, to watch her try on all those outfits that shouldn´t fit so perfectly.

But then again, everything looked so good on her, you realized early on that Saeko simply couldn´t look bad, not even mediocre.

She was always the prettiest in the room.

Everyone´s eyes were on her but there was only one person she returned the favor to.

And it most definitely wasn´t you.

And it never would be.

This fact would always be repeated inside your head and yet it just wouldn´t stick.

It didn´t hurt to dream, right?

Though dreaming didn´t get you anywhere, not that you actually wanted to pursue her.

No.

You´d never do that, her happiness was far more important than your own.

Dreaming about being with her the way you always wanted only hurt you more.

When you arrived at her doorstep after the party was over to say goodbye, every single one of your emotions seemed to overflow.

It was all too much.

Too much pent up frustration and your broken heart screamed bloody murder.

Your head was spinning from the alcohol and you started feeling sick, you were still supporting Saeko who drank way more than you and could barely walk in a straight line.

“I´m getting married tomorrow!” she slurred, laughing loudly and turned around to you with those big bright eyes and you wanted nothing more than to kiss her.

Saeko slipped a bit and fell against you, but you managed to catch her so that you two hugged now.

Your heart started beating faster and you knew you were about to do something stupid, but you couldn´t stop yourself.

“I love you…” you whispered, sounding almost hysterical, your voice strained with the pain of your feelings but Saeko was too drunk to recognize that.

“Aww, I love ya too! You´re my best friend” she hugged you even tighter and it felt like a thousand knives digging into your skin.

You wanted to scream.

God knows I tried to feel happy for you

“I fucking know...you´ll never see me as anything more than a friend and that´s okay, I can´t control who you love, but goddamn, it hurts….I want you to be happy but it hurts to goddamn much…” you thought, unable to stop the tears that were streaming down your face.

Saeko drunkenly smiled at you one last time before shutting the door and falling asleep next to the man who´d be her husband tomorrow.

You were alone in your bed, as always, and unable to sleep.

Nothing new.

The next morning you got up only reluctantly, not wanting this day to happen at all and wanting to get it over with as soon as possible at the same time.

After you were done getting ready and drove to Saeko´s place to help her get ready, you stood in front of her door for a bit before actually entering.

The events of last nights went through your head the whole night and still you were embarrassed even though Saeko didn´t remember any of it.

Instead of looking at you disgusted, she greeted you like usual, hugging you tight and rambling on about how excited she was to finally get married.

You helped prepare everything else that needed to be done and then tried to calm Saeko down as best as you could before sitting down on your designated seat.

Caught in your head you imagined what it would be like to be the one waiting for Saeko instead of her fiance. If only she´d smile at you that way, if only you could embrace her like that, if only the love in her eyes was dedicated to you.

It hurt seeing all of that belong to the luckiest man on the planet who now looked at the beautiful bride walking down the aisle with bright and loving eyes.

The ceremony passed like white noise for you, maybe it was a defense mechanism from your body that prevented your heart from being completely obliterated.

Biting your lip until it was bloody, you tried your hardest to look somewhat happy.

Needless to say, you failed.

You wanted to escape to the restroom and cry your eyes out, but you were frozen in place, stuck, you just couldn´t move.

Maybe you were more of a masochist than you realized.

Everything around you was happening in a fast forward motion and in slow motion at the same time, making you dizzy.

You knew that people were approaching you, talking to you, saying how happy they were for Saeko, but you didn´t respond.

You couldn´t.

It was like you were having the most fucked up and pathetic out of body experience of all.

Your eyes caught Saeko laughing with her husband as they had their first dance.

She looked so beautiful, so happy.

Everything was perfect.

For her.

You gulped, balling your fists and digging your nails into your flesh to stop your tears from falling.

To no avail.

You could feel your eyes burning and ignored everyone who asked if you were okay.

Okay.

When have you ever been okay? You wasted your whole life pining after someone who´d never love you. And that realization hurt. It hurt that you knew all along, but the dire consequences and meaning seemed to be only sinking in just now.

Maybe you wanted to be happy too.

Even if it could never be with her.

If happy is her, I´m happy for you

[strawberrysoup]

Let’s Review || Chapter 19

Peter Parker knew that his big sister would do anything for him to be safe and happy. She’d given up everything for him twice over already and would do it again in a heartbeat. And that’s why, when the criminal mastermind Tony Stark started inextricably following him around, he didn’t say a word. Because he knew without a doubt Penny would do whatever she had to if it meant keeping Peter safe. He had to protect her, just like she always protected him. He never considered what would happen if Stark decided both Parker siblings were worth taking. Never considered who else in Stark’s inner circle would agree. He just wanted to protect her and yet somehow, they both ended up with needles in their necks.

relationship: Steve Rogers/Original Female Character/Bucky Barnes, background Peter Parker/Tony Stark rating: Explicit warnings: Dark Steve Rogers, Dark Bucky Barnes, Dark Tony Stark, Dark Avengers, kidnapping, non-consensual&dark sexual situations, underage Peter Parker, emotional and psychological abuse, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat more warnings: i’m going to start including detailed warnings to the very ends of chapters in order to avoid ruining the shock factor in chapters while still being mindful of potential individual triggers. open the read more, CTRL + F and search “content warnings” to skip to the extra tags if you so choose.

Penny did not, in fact, stop earning extra swats at all and by day 3 had stopped sitting on her butt entirely, much to the quiet amusement of the soldiers. Steve had ordered more silk shorts and a pair of joggers that were soft enough she could wear them without too much pain. She was petulant and precious and far too tired to be as angry as they knew she wanted to be. He and Bucky had rotated taking days off since the incident, doing their best to try to engage with her. 

Some of the things they'd learned were as follows: 

1.    Penny's father had died when she was very young and she didn't remember him. He'd been Israeli, Jewish, and had lots of family Penny had never met. Peter's father was who she meant if she said 'my dad', a man from Queens who'd married her mother and loved Penny like she was his own (she missed her parents awfully, at all times and got tearful while talking about them). 

2.    Penny called herself stupid and dumb and an idiot on a regular basis and truly believed that Peter had gotten every IQ point her mother had to offer; it was a bad habit and bothered both of the soldiers—she was so smart and they regularly had difficulty keeping up with her intellect, her thought process was just very different from most people's. 

3.    Penny liked watching TV and movies and anything that had come out since her uncle Ben died was new and exciting. She would let them hold her for hours while they watched movies and talked through all of them with a witty and precious commentary. She didn't care for movies that made her cry. 

4.    Penny hated reading. Steve was pretty sure it was because it was difficult for her and wondered if she had the disability that flipped letters around but couldn't ask lest she got upset. If there was something that needed to be read in a movie or show, the soldiers had taken to reading it out loud immediately and unprompted.

5.    Penny desperately enjoyed and craved skin contact, to a point where Steve and Bucky were wearing less and less clothing because Penny would come to them when they weren't wearing shirts. She would ask to watch movies or TV because it was an excuse to lay on them with her cheek against their skin. Her tiny shorts were a constant but she'd shifted to wearing tank tops instead of long sleeves shirts and the soldiers liked it.

They'd thought from the beginning that skin contact could be their ticket in, Penny preened under careful touches even if she tried to hide it but it became more and more clear as the days went on. The daily spankings made her incredibly sensitive, mentally, and the extra contact seemed to be a coping mechanism. On the first day she'd tried to curb the desire with the kittens, carrying them around as much as possible but it quickly became clear it wasn't quite the same. While the little short-legged kitten had come to basically live in the spot between and directly above Penny's boobs, the orange one with impossibly chubby cheeks was more distant and preferred to simply be in the same room with people rather than held and touched (Bucky adored both kittens but the fucking tiny legs killed him, he loved it so goddamn much). But kittens were not a good replacement for a very warm super-soldier. 

Steve had gone for broke the night before, sleeping in a pair of briefs instead of joggers and a beater. Penny had stayed firmly on his chest the entire night while Bucky, wearing boxers and a t-shirt, had been left with just a single cuddly kitten tucked up under his chin. The brunet had gotten up early for work, scowling jealously at the way Penny cuddled against their lover so sweetly; he almost told JARVIS to call in for him, he could've shucked his shirt and joined the pile of warm sleepy bodies. Tony was still not entirely pleased with them though (especially once Steve had dropped their plan to head into the Rockies for a few months) so it was better to head into the office. He kissed Steve soundly and pressed his lips gently to the back of Penny's head before heading out, depositing the kitten in his hands onto the cat tree in the living room on his way. 

Steve laid awake in bed for another two hours, savoring the way Penny felt against him. Their babydoll was small and precious and fit so well against him. Her legs splayed wide over the smallest part of his waist, her head cushioned against his chest. She'd been sleeping or laying on them in similar positions since the first spanking (she'd even let Bucky carry her around after her spanking the day before, as long as his hands stayed far away from her ass). He could feel her slowly starting to wake up and ran his hands up and down her back under her tank top. 

He wasn't expecting the way she started to tremble, or the tears spilling down onto his chest. She didn't make any noise but her breaths came in little hiccups, her head tilting further down as she tried to curl into herself. 

"Baby? Penny doll, what's wrong?" He sat up, keeping her legs wrapped around his waist and enough of an angle to his torso that her weight wouldn't press her down to sit on her ass. 

She said something, but it was disrupted by hiccups and a small sob and Steve's heart broke just a little when he couldn't understand. When Penny spoke in Hebrew it was usually on accident, she was either too distressed or too scared to notice she wasn't speaking English. Steve's ears perked at the sound of bells, eyes going to the door of their bedroom where both kittens were trotting into the room. The short-legged kitten often appeared whenever Penny cried and the orange one followed but stayed near the door. It was far too small to jump onto the bed so Steve dangled an arm over the edge until he felt fur brush his fingertips, scooping the kitten up and depositing it between his and Penny's chests. The little thing purred like a motorboat, tucking into Penny's shirt and between her boobs where it generally spent most of its time. 

"Shhh, baby, it's okay," Steve brushed his lips against her temple and her cheek, continuing to run his hands under her shirt, "can you tell me why you're upset?" 

The sounds she made were borderline heartbreaking and he figured for a minute she wasn't actually capable of answering until she spoke haltingly between hiccups, "it hurts, it h-hurts, s-so much." 

Penny's ass was already shades of blue and purple, even if Steve was sure Bucky had gone easy on her the evening before. The little smacks she earned in between spankings only served to ignite the burn. 

"Oh, doll," Steve cooed, his expression pulled tight and his chest feeling even tighter; he hated the distress she was in, the pain, "hold on, I've got the arnica right here." 

She whined when he moved her legs and slipped off her shorts, leaving her naked from the waist down, and grabbed the tube from the bedside table. They had hidden several of them throughout the apartment so they'd be handy at all times. In general, Penny appreciated the relief it provided but the application made her cry even harder, even as Steve used the gentlest touches he could. Her ass was still hot to the touch and would be for days and days. 

"All done baby, I'm all done," he'd applied the cream as thickly as possible, a visible layer on her bruises, "let's leave your shorts off, okay? You don't need them." 

Personally, he'd like for her to walk around naked at all times, he liked seeing her little pussy peeking out, but it really would feel best for Penny not to have anything on her ass. She was still crying, not quite as hard but he could still feel the tears against his skin. 

"Okay baby, okay," he murmured, lips returning to her temple, "we're gonna skip your spanking today, alright? We can't tell Bucky or he'll make me, so you have to pretend I did understand?" 

Penny nodded tearfully against his chest, "thank you, thank you, thank—" 

"Shhh, it's okay baby, it's okay." 

Steve spent the entire day with Penny in his arms, carrying her carefully from room to room or laying on his chest on the couch or in the bed. The pillow on her chair in the dining room (her Princess Pillow, a term Penny did not like and had led to her refusing to use it for meal times—but only until dinner on the first night, after two spankings had left her very uncomfortable) went unused just because she never actually sat on her own, instead rested on Steve's hip while they both ate over the sink. 

He honestly hadn't intended for anything sexual when he forewent her shorts that morning and he knew Penny didn't have any salacious goals either. It happened purely on accident while they lounged on the couch watching an action movie, Penny enjoying the way Steve could pick apart the movie's shortcomings. She'd sat up for some reason and her pussy had ground against his abs causing her entire body to still, an aborted noise escaping her lips as her clit hit a ridge just perfectly. Steve's hands found her hips quickly and he kept her from lifting up, gently stroking her bare skin. 

"Hey, hey, you're alright," he murmured softly, hoping not to trigger an escape attempt, "that felt good, didn't it babydoll? Here, do it again, lemme help." 

He used his hold to manipulate her hips, rolling her cunt over the bumps of his abs again, twisting her slightly at the end to really grind her clit. She moaned, breaths coming just slightly faster as he continued to move her hips in the same pattern, carefully holding her to prevent her ass from brushing anything that would cause pain. 

"That's good doll, that's so good," he praised, feeling her thighs clench ever so slightly as she started to work herself against him, "good girl, Penny, chase it. Make yourself feel good baby." 

Her wetness spread over his abs, aiding the slide of her cunt against his skin. She even canted her hips the way he'd manipulated her, the twist at the end dragging her clit against the ridges of his abs in a way that made her pant. Her lower lip found its way between her teeth and Steve did his best not to moan at the sight; she was working herself over beautifully above him. Her pussy was so slick he imagined he could feel her arousal dripping down his abs and rolling over his skin onto the couch. She rocked hard, hands coming to rest on his chest for leverage and he could see how close she was and the exact second she started to get frustrated. A whiney moan escaped her, the twist of her hips more pronounced as she tried and failed to bring herself off. 

"I—I can't, " she whined, thighs clenching tighter, "I can't—"

"Shh precious, come here, let me help you," he lifted her easily by the waist, pulling her up until her pussy hovered just over his mouth, arms coming around her thighs to hold her tightly, "I'll fix it, baby, I'll make you cum." 

His mouth sealed over her clit in and she yelped just before a long moan escaped her lips. Steve was good at eating pussy and enjoyed it deeply, the taste of her filling his mouth and coating his tongue. She was musky and tangy and he decided he could eat her out for hours if she'd let him. Her pussy clenched as he swirled his tongue inside of her, her thighs twitching as his nose bumped her clit. He waited until he could hear her begging for release before refocusing on her clit, the sensitive little button all but throbbing under his tongue as he began a truly exquisite onslaught. 

"Oh.. Ohhhh, I—oh no, oh no," he smirked against her cunt as she seemed to realize she was about to cum all over his face, her cheeks lighting up red at the thought and her thighs attempting to gain enough strength to lift herself up. 

Steve tightened his arms around her thighs and held her firmly, pussy sealed against his mouth with no room for squirming. Her lower body began desperately twitching as her orgasm built. He focused his tongue on her clit, working happily as she got louder and louder, her hips desperately rocking in his hold. The noise she made when she came nearly made his pop off in his briefs, loud and pitched and desperate. It tapered into breathy pants and whines and he stopped just before she became too sensitive for comfort, tongue lapping up into her cunt. Her cum was the same earthy flavor as her arousal and he cleaned her until she started to squirm. 

Her face was so endearingly red when he resituated her on his abs, directly onto the wet spot her pussy had made on his skin. She couldn't meet his eyes and he smiled, stroking his hands over her thighs gently. 

"Lay down baby, the movies not finished yet," he told her softly, pulling her down to rest against his chest again with her head on his peck and she stayed that way for the next two hours, until Bucky for home.  

Bucky's eyebrow had gone up when he walked in after work, the first thing he saw being Penny's bare ass and pussy from between her splayed legs where she lay over Steve's chest on the couch once again. The blond had signed 'don't ask-don't ask-don't ask' quickly before Bucky could even open his mouth, instead choosing to walk over and kiss both of them before heading into the bedroom to change. Well, mostly he just undressed down to his briefs and called it a day, obviously clothing was optional if not frowned upon in their apartment at the moment. His day had been relatively easy, the interrogation he'd done had gone by fast and after that it was just paperwork. Tony's companies, both legal and illegal, had a whole slew of enemies. Steve was good at finding them and Bucky was good at retrieving information from them. 

"Remember what we talked about precious," Steve murmured to her as Bucky walked back into the room, the blond's eyes finding his with a careful expression on his face, "be a good girl, be sweet." 

A squeaky meow interrupted his thoughts and Bucky reached down to scoop his favourite kitten into his arms. The orange one brushed against his ankles with a quiet purr, a little welcome home, before she retreated into the cat tree once again. He was worried because Penny hadn't named either of them yet but didn't know how to bring it up without upsetting her, and she was already so upset all the time. In his head he called the short one Munchkin and the orange one Chubs (for her little chubby cheeks). 

"How was your day?" He asked casually, noting the way Penny's eyes met his from under dark lashes like she had a secret. 

Judging from the way Steve gave a short 'later' hand motion, she did, but it wasn't something the blond was worried about and that meant Bucky wasn't either. Besides, he liked seeing the life in her pretty eyes today (she was half-naked on Steve's chest, unconcerned that her legs were spread, and looked almost happy—she could've killed 6 people and bathed in their blood and he wouldn't have cared because she almost smiled at him). 

"I already called down for dinner, it should get here in just a few minutes," Steve sat up, cautious of how Penny was arranged to make sure no pressure was put on her ass, "Penny needs arnica and her shorts, can you do it while I run to the bathroom?”

Bucky nodded and swept her up into his arms, cradling her tightly in his arms before falling back onto the couch and grinning when she immediately glared up at him, “I missed you today baby.” 

“I didn’t like that.” 

“You don’t like anything I do precious,” he pressed a kiss teasingly against her forehead, “let’s get this arnica on your poor ass, huh? Steve must’a already given you your spanking for today.” 

“Yeah.” Bucky’s eyebrows jumped high on his forehead; it didn’t take a master interrogator to figure out she was lying.

The hesitation to answer was the most obvious give away but she wouldn’t look him in the eyes either, a finger coming up to his chest to trace shapes against his skin. Lying to him was ballsy but he remembered the hand signals he’d received from Steve upon entering the apartment, the blond’s cryptic words to their babydoll while she thought Buck couldn’t hear. So instead of calling her out for the deception her grabbed a bottle of arnica from the end table and started very gently rubbing a layer into the bruised skin on her ass. 

Her little whimpers hurt his heart, but the full tears were what made it crack. She was likely at her breaking point for pain, where the punishment didn’t fulfill its purpose anymore. He’d bet Steve had realized the same thing and had held off. 

“Almost done babydoll. Steve! Bring her shorts with you when you come!” 

There was more squeaky meowing and he dropped his hand over the side of the couch without looking, scooping up Munchkin and dropping her onto his chest right between himself and Penny. The kitten hated being away from Penny even after such a short time. 

“What movies did you watch today? Have I seen them?” 

Penny hesitated for just a few seconds before she gave a short commentary, not noticing the way Steve walked out of the bedroom and up behind her. A quick few hand signals ‘food-sleep-talk’ told him that the blond wanted Penny fed, in bed, and asleep before they got a chance to talk and flashed and ‘okay’ behind her back. It didn’t take long to fulfill the list, Penny was out like a light with a very small dosage of sleeping pills (not enough for her to notice, just enough that she’d sleep through the night). 

The soldiers kind of assumed it was like having a toddler; during the day they had to watch what they said, if they got much of a chance to talk at all, and the dynamic between them had changed while they focused on getting Penny settled. Nights were when they had the chance to talk, it helped that they didn’t need a lot of sleep, and they honestly kind of enjoyed lying in the dark with their babydoll laid out across their chests, talking quietly over the sound of her breathing. It was certainly a good way to decompress after a long day and the pair fell asleep in the early hours of the morning, Penny on Bucky’s chest and Steve wrapped around them both from the side, a kitten or two thrown into the mix somewhere. 

Bucky woke immediately when the blond shifted, slowly starting to wake up for work. It was Steve’s turn to go in and he had a meeting with Tony too—Steve was much better at dealing with the eccentric billionaire than Bucky was, especially when it came to the topic of Penny. Despite the fact Steve had been the one who wanted her originally, Bucky was the one who’d become more overtly possessive and he didn’t like Tony butting into their business. 

“Take care of her, I’ll see you in the evening,” Steve bent over to kiss him lightly, lips trailing to brush against his cheek lovingly before he stroked a hand through Penny’s hair and gave pressed his lips to the back of her head, “love you.” 

“Love you, punk, go to work,” the brunet ignored Steve’s wry smile, instead shifting Penny to lay next to him on her side, curling his body tightly around her and tucking her up against his torso while Steve left.

She’d be up in an hour or so, would probably want to go lay in the hammock in front of the windows. She sunned herself the same way the kittens did, taking little cat naps in the sunshine between attempts at knitting. He could feel the small changes in her breathing as she started to come to and smiled; her forehead burrowed against his chest, her nose brushing his skin lightly. But then she started to tremble and a small whimper escaped her and she was reaching for him and there were tears in her eyes—

Bucky swept her into his arms immediately, carefully arranging her the same way they’d been doing for days to keep the pressure off her ass, “Penny, talk to me baby, why’re you crying? Did you have a bad dream?” 

“The stuff—the lotion—” she hiccuped and he felt her hips jump in his hands when the side of her ass brushed his leg and she yelped, “it hurts, it—”

“JARVIS, remedies for bruises,” Bucky ordered, immediately lifting them both off of the bed and heading into the bathroom. 

“Because this is the second morning Ms. Parker has woken up in pain, I have taken it upon myself to order several items to be sent to the apartment, including hypericum perforatum. There is an aloe vera plant in the living room which can be used for pain relief after a bath, which I shall add witch hazel and lavender to, along with epsom salts for the swelling.” 

“Thanks buddy,” he responded absently, the steam from the hot water immediately settling over his skin when he stepped past the doorway; the bathtub was already filling, “can you hold your weight baby? Just for a minute.” 

Penny nodded tearfully against his chest and he carefully rested her on her feet, gently manipulating the waistband of her shorts over the curve of her ass. He could see in the mirror that her skin had retained its deep red tone, purple and blue splotches concentrated on the fullness of either cheek. It wasn’t anything permanently damaging, just very painful. He pulled her tank top off and dropped it to the side with her shorts, listening as the faucet kicked off. 

“Alright baby, let’s get you into the bath,” He quickly shucked his briefs and stepped into the water, helping Penny in after even when her breathing hitched at the movement, “you’ll lay against my chest, just like usual.” 

Once they were situated, Penny with her head tucked under his chin and his arms around her back, Bucky couldn’t help but smile. He could see why Steve hadn’t gone through with her spanking yesterday, there was simply no need. Penny might not have trusted or liked them but she reached for them. When she was in pain she reached for them to help, to fix it, and knew that they would, where in the past you couldn’t have gotten her to ask them for anything, let alone help. 

It was a significant step in the right direction, Penny succumbing to a piece of her new life. She didn’t chafe under his hold, wasn’t stone still or angry. She was in pain and seeking comfort and help and she knew he’d provide it. He knew she was a stubborn little thing, the concession of just a bit of her space wasn’t the end of her fighting, but it meant something and the soldiers could work with that. During interrogations, the systematic deconstruction of a person’s will and mind meant that when one wall fell the others were very close to follow. Penny could still fight if she wanted, but it was only a matter of time before she conceded the battle. 

Patience wasn’t Bucky’s strong suit but he would wait as patiently as he could for her to crumble in his arms, after all, it wouldn’t take long now. 

content warnings: grinding, dubcon cunnilingus, face sitting

[takaraphoenix]

Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Season 6

1. Favorite character of this season?

I absolutely love how they dedicated this season to Buffy's issues. She died. And was ripped out of heaven. She lost her mom and was suddenly forced into being the adult in the house. It's so much and she gets to break about it. Yes, she hurts the people around her, but honestly... it kind of figures? How is one supposed to adjust to what she is trying to adjust to? But over the season, the wake-up calls she gets – the asylum episode, Dawn's stealing, Willow's addiction and then the grand finale that makes her realize she wants to be in this world – it's so great, because it goes... slowly.

My biggest issue with most modern TV is that it's basically torture porn. The main character is put through impossibly traumatizing ordeals but is never even given the chance to cope, to try and deal with it. The issues are never addressed, only glossed over because actually dealing with them would require care and good writing and take time away from all the other drama going on! So characters are only traumatized for shock-value and then are immediately over it, even though it's unrealistic.

This season is a season of trauma. A season of bad coping mechanism, of pushing people away but still seeking someone where she can feel safe – Spike. She slowly has to relearn to open up and let them in, she has to learn to want to live again. And it's hard. And the show doesn't shy away from it, it doesn't shy away from her making the wrong choices, because... there is no one right choice that is obvious when dealing with the trauma she has faced.

2. Outstanding minor character (positive or negative)?

Negative. Jonathan. I just... I really truly hate that Jonathan is in the trio. Of all people, Jonathan. The one who gave Buffy her class-protector award with that heart-warming speech. Buffy was the one person who saved him, personally, when he wanted to commit suicide. Even after the Jonathan Superstar episode, Buffy was gentle and understanding with him. It just... for him, to turn supervillain like that was incredibly disappointing for me.

3. Favorite character dynamic?

I genuinely love the Tara-Dawn dynamic. Tara and Willow raised her for months while Buffy was dead. But the Giles-Anya dynamic is also so great – I'm very soft for the way Anya points out her hair is blonde in the finale like “Buffy is getting hugs for short hair. I too would like a hug”.

4. Favorite canon romantic ship?

Buffy and Spike... in the first half of the season. The way she found him to open up to, he was the only one she voluntarily told about having been in heaven. She finds a connection to him. The way he loves her – that he stayed, for months, even though she was dead, because he had promised her to take care of Dawn and he didn't just do that, he helped the Scoobies protect Sunnydale. He had no reason to and it still... it bothers me so much that everyone continuously belittles Spike's love for Buffy like it's not there. If he was only lusting after her, he would have ditched town after her death, he wouldn't have helped defend Sunnydale and take care of Dawn.

5. Least favorite canon romantic ship?

I'm having flashbacks here but it's a tie and it's because of shit decisions Xander and Willow made.

It's strange, I want to love Willow and – as a friend – she is a great character, but she's just... a shitty partner? She cheated on Oz for weeks or months with Xander and now she used magic to play with Tara's mind. That is so... violating and disturbing and that, after Tara found out and confronted her about it and pointed out how incredibly wrong that was, even more so with Tara's past, Willow just went and immediately did it again. And this isn't something you can blame the addiction for; this was just “I don't want my girlfriend mad at me so I'll erase her memories”. It's... just so bad.

The other being Xander and Anya, even though I love Xander and Anya together, but... the entire season was a steady build-up to “Xander REALLY doesn't wanna get married”, literally from the first episode on. He tried to hide the engagement as long as possible. Then he just... makes these disturbed faces every time someone brings up the married life. They had a whole sing and dance number about their doubts. It's just so very evidently clear that he doesn't want to get married, but he takes until the wedding itself to realize and just... leaves Anya at the altar and then thinks he can get her back? Genuinely thinks they could just go back to being in a relationship? But after leaving her at the altar acting like she owes him something – when he watches her and Spike have sex?

Sometimes, it feels like Xander and Willow really live to sabotage their own happiness.

6. Favorite episode?

Once More With Feeling – it's just one of the most outstanding episodes, really! The songs are so brilliant, the emotional arcs this episode for everyone – from the Spuffy to the per-marital issues between Anya and Xander to Tara and Giles' doubts. It's really brilliant. Many shows after have tried to make a musical episode happen and, with luck, they're fun or comic-relief, but... none have lived up to the standard set by this one.

7. Least favorite episode?

Oh, that's an easy one. 6x19 Seeing Red, where they made... Spike, at this point honestly, completely OoC by having him try to rape Buffy. That will never come off as anything but OoC, not after all that has happened between them. Yes, they are violent with each other – but that's a mutual thing, they hurt each other. This was... terrifying to watch as a teen and it hasn't stopped being upsetting and disturbing. And then they top the episode off with Tara being fridged.

I know fridging is technically the act of killing a female character for the sake of a male character's suffering, but... it's gay fridging? It's not even entirely a Bury Your Gay; Tara dies specifically for the pain and suffering of her lover. After everything Tara's been through in life and after everything Willow has put her through this season, they barely just rekindled... and she gets killed off.

8. Favorite Monster Of The Week?

Aesthetically and what he brought to the show? Sweet from Once More, With Feeling.

But I think that Stewart from Hell's Bells also really stood out. The fact that Anya's past came back to haunt her – because she was a demon for a century and she tortured people for a living. She doesn't even remember this guy whose life she ruined and he comes in to ruin her wedding. And in the end... he wasn't even the one to ruin it, the viewer gets one last moment of hope when it's revealed this was a fake-out, that he was not “Xander from the future” but a vengeful demon... but even without Stewart, the wedding didn't happen.

9. Least favorite Monster Of The Week?

Not too many monsters of the week going on, really. Probably Wig Lady from 6x12 Doublemeat Palace, because all the implications of cannibalism in that episode were really very disturbing.

10. Rate the overarching villain!

Brilliant. 10/10. Holds up so well.

Seriously, there is this... frustrating part where Xander's character just does not hold up at all because of the casual sexism and gross over-sexualization of his female friends. Which figures, because that's how a Nice Nerdy Guy was defined in the 90s (and, if you look at modern TV aimed at nerdy guys like The Big Bang Theory, still is). It's just a trope from TV and movies that for some reason really worked back then but nowadays when we look at sexism and the behavior of men toward women with different eyes, it is really appalling and upsetting.

In the case of the nerd trio, this worked out really well for the show, because it only makes them even more effective villains. They are ridiculous losers, total nerds who think they are owed womens' attention. Their schemes are literally straight out of comics but for the dumbest purposes – they make an invisibility ray so they can go into a women's only spa to spy on naked ladies. They create mind-control devices but for the purpose of enslaving women into their sex-puppets.

It is so gross, so ridiculous and inexplicably still somehow funny, because it's straight out of comics. Freeze-rays? Invisibility-rays? Self-destructing lairs? Jet-packs? It is not out of this world, this isn't how Buffy the Vampire Slayer operates, this is a show about monsters and demons and they're turning it into a whacky scifi show and it works.

Then there's the fact that they're just... three dumb losers? I mean, last season, Buffy literally slayed a god. Shows like to escalate. The Big Bads become bigger and badder each season, but... where do you go after you killed a god? Instead of trying to immediately one-up the villain factor, they did something incredibly brilliant. They took all the steps back.

The villains aren't the focus of this season. The focus of this season is what I answered in the first part of this post. Buffy's mental health and readjustment. You can't only focus on that though, you do need a villain and for that, an overarching villain of some loser nerd bois who fail the majority of time are perfect. They're nuisances that make Buffy's life marginally harder at times, but they're not an overall, serious, actual threat that may end the world.

And still they... got Tara killed. In such a... human manner. An angry man-child who hates women comes in with a gun and shoots her. And there's nothing the demon-slaying good guys can do about it. The bullet hits – not the target it was intended for – and takes an innocent life. Just like that, Warren manages what the hellish bad guys from previous seasons hadn't managed; he kills a Scoobie. Angelus killed Jenny, Drusilla killed Kendra, those were the only major deaths at the hands of villains that we had on this show so far and both were minor characters.

Bonus: Other thoughts?

Dawn was so draining this season; she got better in the last quarter of the season but the majority of it... The stealing, the behavior, the blaming Buffy for absolutely everything – Willow got addicted to magic, it's Buffy's fault, they have no money and Buffy has to go and work to earn money and it's Buffy's fault that she's not home, Buffy died to save Dawn and somehow it's Buffy's fault too because she left Dawn. Just... how can you possibly be this self-centered...? It's so exhausting, even more so in the season that has Buffy suffering the most and instead of being a supportive, helpful sister, Dawn acts like she's the victim of everything...

And I understand, Dawn has been through a lot too – losing her mother, losing Buffy, learning she isn't human but just a mass of energy – but there is a difference between suffering yourself and placing all the blame on other people and pretending that the world is against you, instead of tackling your own issues and problems yourself? And stealing from your friends, at that.

And no, being fifteen isn't an excuse for not seeing beyond yourself. Fifteen year olds are sure old enough to be self-aware... This “fifteen year olds only see themselves and only care about their own suffering and everybody else is to be blamed for how shit their life is” is just... another cringey Teen Girl Trope. Seriously, why did they just cram every single bad trope into this character...

[hopes4gf]

Wings of Fire ( A MHA Fanfic): The Surge

Villains enter the scene and we all gear up for battle.

They all surround us and we engage in fight mode.

”Wanna test out Midoriya’s theory?” I ask Shoto.

”Now or never, sis,” Shoto agrees.

Me and him stand back to back and we use both sides of our power to blast the villains back. I use my blue flame to surround and circle the villains meanwhile Shoto uses his ice to bind them.

“Nice flames, Aki, you're practically doing my job for me,” Shoto says, building ice walls.

”Watch out for those big guys, Sho!” I shout catching his attention.

”You scared to lose to kids? Your adults, put up a fight, damn it!” Shoto says to the villains.

Before they can attack Shoto, I trap them in an ability with my fire called Hell Ring, where the flames form a ring around my opponent and slowly close in on them.

Bakugo is on the other side of the room with a villain pinned to the floor by his grip.

”You move and I’ll blast you ass so bad, that they’ll be piecing you together for weeks,” Bakugo exclaims.

”Well, that’s not very heroic,” Kirishima says.

”All clear!” Shoto signals to them.

”Clear!” Kirishima says.

All Might finally shows up and recites his famous phrase and reminds us to go Plus Ultra.

The police show up and secure some of the villains.

We all go home for the day.

Before I can leave, a hand grips my wrist.

”Call me, loser,” Bakugo says, handing me slip of paper before returning to his group.

I stand there in shock and look at the paper.

”Kirishima convinced me to give you my number. Don’t keep me waiting,” The note reads, with his phone number underneath.

I smile to myself and put his number into my phone as I walk beside Shoto.

”You seem happy, what’s going on?” Shoto asks.

”Bakugo gave me his number,” I say.

”What?” Shoto says, stopping in his tracks.

”And he wants me to call him tonight,” I say with a smirk.

”Dad’s gonna kill you for this,” Shoto reminds.

”Dont think you’d not go down with me. I know about your little girlfriend too,” I say.

Shoto’s eyes widen in realization.

”S-she’s not my girlfriend...yet at least,” Shoto says nervously.

”Oh is she?” I ask sarcastically.

”Not a word,” Shoto says with a huff.

I laugh at my brother’s demeanor.

We make it home and find Dad sitting on the couch waiting for us.

This ought to be good...

”Shoto, Ayamaki, sit please,” Dad orders.

We drop our things and we sit in front of him.

”When I went to UA, there was an event where only the best students would battle against each other in a series of competitions demonstrating their quirks, I want you both to do it,” Dad says in a stern tone.

”You mean the sport’s festival?” Shoto asks.

”Correct. There, you will demonstrate your quirks in the best fashion. This will be your first public debut since the entrance exam. I’m constantly reminded everyday that you two represent what I do for that school. And I know the both of you will excel. These are the foundations of becoming the next number one and two heroes. And the next chapter of our legacy. Don’t mess this up,” Dad recalls.

We both nod in agreement and return to our routines.

As I greet Fuyumi, I turn behind me and see Dad sitting there, thinking and deliberating. It almost reminds me of what I try to do at lunch without Katsuki in my way.

Suddenly, a memory comes to mind.

One day, Dad decided to give me a lesson. A lesson on thinking before I act rather than using pure instinct.

”Analyze what’s ahead of you. Think about it’s shape, the way it moves, and if you look away for a single second. You’ll lose you target,” He used to say.

We went through endless trials that constantly winded me. My brother stood by the door the whole time, covering for my usual place. He would try and peek inside to see what he would do to me.

He would scream orders at me and grip my skin underneath his fiery grasp. Eventually, that day he finally cracked in front of me. Showed me his true colors.

He threw a knife at me. I missed.

He sliced my arm wide open and I had never seen so much blood in my life. He stared at me with those cold blue eyes of his. My enemy was ahead of me. His eyes had only one solid color in them. But I knew deep down, he painfully regretted his choice to train me. Because he told me.

Told me I wasn’t worthy of his advice. Told me I wasn’t as worthy as my brother. Told me I’d never make it.

And as he sits there, deliberating as he taught me once to. My scar starts to ache, remembering when he first drew that knife to my skin.

If I’m going to win. I’m not winning for him.

Suddenly, my mind switches the memory of my mother when I visited her in the hospital that one night. She told me to prove my father wrong.

And that’s exactly what I’m going to do at the sports festival next week.

————————————————

The next day,

We all attempt to walk out of our classroom for lunch but are crowded by the other students in the hero courses who are interested in the festival.

”They’re scouting out the competition, idiots,” Bakugo says, slyly grabbing his things and pushing past our other classmates.

”Just like you would,” I comment.

He turns to me with a smirk on his face and winks.

“We’re the ones that defeated those villains. At least you know what a future pro looks like,” Bakugo says, scouting the crowd.

“Now, move it, extras,” Bakugo says sternly to the students.

”You walk around calling them extras just because you don’t know them!” Iida scolds.

Bakugo scoffs and pushes through the crowd.

“Bakugo, what’re you doing?” Kirishima asks.

”These people don’t matter, what’s important is that I beat them. Just ask Aki,” Bakugo says, then continuing through the crowd.

Later, we all head to the stadium to prepare for the events of the afternoon.

"Is there something going on between you and Bakugo?" Kirishima asks me.

"We've spoken a couple of times. I'm pretty sure you can already tell but he's competitive for a reason. He puts up a front because he's terrified as hell of losing. He'll never admit it personally but he uses it as a coping mechanism. He wants power so he does feel hopeless. If you're asking for my opinion, he does it because he knows what if feels like not to have power,"  I admit.

"I've definitely picked up on that, I don't think it's very manly to hide your fear. It should drive you to be better," Kirishima says, giving me his thoughts.

"Listen, you're one of his best friends, I can see that, if you wanna make him loosen up, be real with him. And help him actually say what's on his damn mind," I advise.

"Well that's one way to put it," Kirishima comments, recognizing my slight harshness.

"That's the only way to understand it when it comes to him," I say.

Soon, I join Shoto's side and we both look at the TV monitors, we both spot Dad sitting by All Might.

"Both of them are watching," He comments.

"What do you think will happen if we mess this up?" I ask.

"As long as one of us succeeds, I think we'll be fine," Shoto says.

"Obviously, it's you who'll succeed," I say sternly.

"You're probably right. Dad's really been pushing me lately," He says in a monotone.

My eyes soften. I realize that Shoto doesn't have a single ounce of emotion in his voice. Instead of acknowledging me, he's hyper-focused on what he'll do.

I close my eyes and walk away from him, he calls after me, but I ignore him.

He's gonna leave me. I sure as hell know it.

We all head to the entrance of the Festival, where Class 1A prepares to go out. Shoto gives me a concerned look and I glare at him. We all head out confidently, and we look around as we see several heroes and adoring fans in the crowd.

I spot Dad and All Might looking down at us, but Dad doesn't look me in eye, he stares beside me at Shoto. I scowl at move forward by Momo.

"What's got you all fired up?" She asks.

"My old man's in the crowd," I tell her sternly.

"Damn, I didn't know this was so important," Momo says.

"He wants us to join his hero agency. They do these festivals to scout for interns and sidekicks. My father has 38 sidekicks, he wants me and Sho as his 39th and 40th ones. Me and him decline every damn time, but it seems like he's getting even more desperate with time. Especially, with Shoto. Every one knows that he could care less about me," I say in a serious tone.

"What? But you're his daughter," Momo questions.

"But Shoto is his masterpiece," I say honestly.

"And you're not okay with that," Momo realizes.

At this point I'm at the verge of crying in front of all my classmates. I wish I could tell them all about how I feel, but with my dad staring down at me, I can't risk it.

I choke back own tears and settle my focus ahead, where Midnight stands at a podium.

"Welcome to the annual UA Sports Festival!" Midnight announces.

My mind starts to wander, thinking about the pressure placed upon us. My dad looking to me and Shoto as his future legacy, Shoto kicking me aside, my classmates questioning my relationship with Bakugo, Bakugo getting curious about my family, my friends and their praise of my quirk, all this pressure is boiling over. This is the breaking point.

Midnight asks if any classmate would like to share any words, before any of us can go up, Bakugo walks forward.

He taps the mic to check it.

"U-um, all I'm gonna say is...I'm gonna win," Bakugo says calmly.

"I knew he was gonna say something stupid like that!" All of Class 1A says including me.

The crowd boos at him and I see from the corner of my eye that Dad narrows his eyes.

Soon, the first challenge is presented and we all start to team up in groups.

"Icy-Hot, get your ass over here," Bakugo calls.

"Aki, I need one last member on my team," Shoto calls.

I narrow my eyes at Shoto.

"If I'm going to be anything to you, it's certainly not last," I spit at him, huffing and walking towards Bakugo.

"Family drama, eh?" Bakugo asks with a smirk.

"I've been ready to beat that son of bitch since the entrance exam," I say, cracking knuckles.

"That's the spirit!" Bakugo agrees confidently.

Kirishima, Mina, Sero and I hoist up Bakugoso he can capture our teams headband points. Kirishima stands at the front using his hardness quirk to protect and me and Mina stand on his sides, using our quirks to defend and Sero stand at the back to defend the rear.

The battle begins and I use my ice quirk to shoot icicle daggers at the headband, they come back to us like boomerangs and Bakugo captures them.

"Nice shot, hot stuff!" Bakugo compliments.

"I'll keep 'em coming!" I say in return.

Bakugo smirks and leaps towards Midoriya whose in the air.

"God damn it, Katsuki!" I yell.

Present Mic catches on, announcing his departure to the crowd.

Sero uses his tape to bring him back but his headband is stolen.

"Kirishima...change of plans...lets kill all these guys!" Bakugo says in a low growl.

Before we know, Kaminari uses his electricity to create smoke, through the smoke I see Shoto freeze the ground completely, I use my Hell Ring to protect the group, fighting back.

"Let's go!" Bakugo says.

"Seriously, we're counting on you!" Kirishima says.

"Die!" Bakugo exclaims, charging up his explosions.

A blonde bowl haired guy copies Kirishima's hardening to dodge Bakugo's explosions.

From the corner of my eye, I see Iida blazing past Midoriya, capturing his headbands, leaving him with zero points.

Bakugo leaps towards the blonde kid again and grabs his headbands, leaping us to third place.

"Bakugo! Don't act on your own!" Kirishima advises.

"We have to get third place, you idiots," Bakugo says, hitting Kirishima's head various times.

"Hit it, Icy-Hot!" Bakugo orders.

I create an ice platform pushing us forward and he accelerates it by using his explosions.

He grabs the blonde kid's last headband and we leap to second place.

I watch from the side as Todoroki dodges Midoriya's attack...

He used his fire quirk. For the first time since middle school. I bet that made Dad smile.

Bakugo leaps off once again towards my brother, trying to capture his headbands but...

"Times up!" Present Mic screams.

The crowd erupts, reacting to the challenge.

"Are you okay?" Me and Kirishima ask.

Bakugo only hits the ground beneath him as he's planted face first.

My brother leads first place succeeding me.

I help Bakugo off the floor and slap him.

"That's what you get for acting alone, you dumbass!" I yell.

"It's not my damn fault the time ran out!" Bakugo yells back at me.

"Guys, it's over now, you might wanna-" Kirishima starts.

"No! It's not over until we get first!" Me and Bakugo both yell at the same time.

We look at each other dumbfoundedly, both realizing we said the same thing at once.

We both look away and blush. Mina grabs my arm and we all walk to the inside of the arena.

As I stand in the waiting room, I think about Shoto and Dad's influence on him.

Is Dad the reason he's been distant? Why do they doubt me? I see Shoto and Midoriya slip away from the room and I follow them.

When I reach their destination, I realize I'm not alone.

"What're you doing here?!" Me and Bakugo both whisper yell.

"I'm going to see my brother, frankly, what are you doing?" I ask.

"I'm going to see Deku, now shut up so I can hear," Bakugo says.

He towers above me as we both eavesdrop.

"Are you All Might's secret love child or something?" Shoto asks.

I snicker softly at my brother's question and Bakugo kicks my ankles to shut me up.

"Endeavor's my old man. If you are, that makes you more of my enemy. Since he couldn't surpass All Might, he moved on to his next plan. I'm sure you know what Quirk Marriage is," Shoto starts.

My eyes widen. I feel the air grow thick in my lungs and my eyes water. Why is he saying this? Why is Bakugo listening?

"Forcing people into marriage. He won over my mother's relatives and got ahold of my mother's quirk. I will beat you using only my right side. My mother's quirk," Shoto says, starting to walk away.

"I'll beat you too," Midoriya says, emotion building in his voice.

I look at Bakugo and see his eyes soften.

Mom told him. Mom finally told him the truth.

What I wanted to say to Bakugo finally came out. Before Bakugo can turn to face me, I bolt. Tears stream down my eyes as I run. Running as fast as I can past all the doors and hallways. I find an empty room and light a chair on fire. I scream and sob, breaking everything in sight.

"Fucking asshole! You damn idiot!" I scream.

I drop to my knees and sob. The once locked door is kicked open. I don't look up until i feel arms wrapped around me.

"Shh, it's fine," Bakugo says softly in my ear, cooing me.

I cry deeply into his chest as memories rush through my head. The memory of hearing mom's screams, seeing Shoto's scars. Touya leaving. Natsu's depression. Dad training me. Every moment of agony and heart break rushing through me. Each one more painful than the last.

"Get away from me!" I say, trying to get Bakugo off of me.

"Aki," Bakugo says.

I look up and see Bakugo's crimson eyes staring back at me. His eyes are sincere for the first name. The sound of my name coming from his mouth rings in my ear.

He said my name.

No nicknames, no jokes, just...my name.

"That's what you wanted to tell me. That one day in the classroom. That your father was a damn scumbag for doing what he did to your mother," Bakugo says.

"I didn't want to say anything because I knew you'd lash out at me, saying that your nothing compared to what he did," I say, choking through tears.

"Why would I lash out at you for that? The only reason I stuck with your ass is because I knew you were lonely. And I guess I just saw how shitty your brother treats you. If anything he's like that scumbag for treating you like you're invisible," Bakugo admits.

This guy is spilling out my emotions like he's reading my mind. Someone who I thought to be rash and destructive is...caring and calm.

"I usually don't do this sort of thing but, I guess you're someone I actually gave a damn about," Bakugo says.

I sniffle and he wipes my tears away from my cheeks.

"You good now? Bakugo asks.

"I'll be fine. I just need to take my mind off a few things," I say, getting up.

Bakugo blushes as he hesitates on his words.

"If you need anything, just ask me," He mutters.

I smile as I continue to wipe stray tears. I kiss his cheek catching him off guard.

"Thanks for that, by the way," I say, leaving him alone in the room as I walk down the halls.

I stop suddenly as something catches my eye. I feel my breathing slow down as I see my father standing there, speaking with All Might. Suddenly, his gaze meets mine.

I continue down the halls, rejoining my classmates, disregarding the view of my father.

I rejoin my group and notice that Shoto isn't back yet. He's probably searching for my father.

"Oi! Todoroki,  you good?" Mina ask from across the room.

"Yeah, I'm okay now. Just trying to cool down," I say to Mina as I stride over to the group of girls.

"The boys tipped us off during lunch that there's a cheer competition," Jiro says.

I smirk as the idea peeks my interest.

"Bet. I'll join the group. But I have a couple requests if we wanna win," I say.

Later, we head out to the arena for our performance and the crowd swoons. Momo stands at my side as we get into formation. I look to the stands and see my Dad return with All Might, his eyes widen as he spots me shaking my pompoms.

I then look at the boys who are now waiting in the stands. I watch as our group's jaws drop, me and Mina wave at them and they all blush. Especially Katsuki.

Our music hits and we start strong. The crowd goes insane at our professional demeanor. Dad watches confused by my sudden interest in dance. The thing is, I secretly joined dance team in middle school to get away from my toxic household. That was my only coping mechanism up until now. Me and Mina decided to throw together some choreography mixed with improv to wow the crowd since Mina also has the same passion.

My gaze then focuses of Katsuki as I move with the music. Katsuki stares at me like I have two heads as I roll my body, not caring who sees.

The fact that I was just throwing things and crying baffles me. I think that's why he's so shocked at my performance. Soon, it ends and the crowd loves it! We go back into the arena and the others girls praise us for our work.

"That choreo was amazing girls!" Midnight says, complimenting us.

We change back to our PE uniforms and split into our semi-final groups.

"Did you see the look on Denki's face?" Mina asks as we walk through the halls.

"I was actually shocked by Katsuki," I mention. We both stop and hide as we see my father talking to my brother in the hallway.

"Is that your dad?" Mina asks.

"Yeah," I say nervously.

"Should I leave you here?" Mina asks nervously.

"Maybe," I say, trying to listen.

"You're acting disgracefully, Shoto. Maybe even worse than your sister," Dad says sternly as usual.

My eyes narrow. HE is being worse than ME? This old man got his twins twisted.

Shoto walks past him and heads towards my direction.

"Aki, let's go," he says before turning the corner.

I shrivel up and scurry behind him.

I look over my shoulder and see Dad him standing at the end of the hall with that familiar glare on his face.

These rounds better be interesting because Dad might just bust our chops if one of us doesn't win.

[andonutty]

a fool’s guide to coping w bpd

ok so for the record im NOT a mental health professional, im just... someone with bpd who’s coping and thought i’d share my tips. i think making a post like this will a) reach more people, and b) help my friends more than me just offering advice when they come to me for help. bpd affects everyone differently, and i can’t claim to totally understand the struggles of everyone who has it, but if you’re struggling right now and you just don’t know what to do or where to go, i gotchu fam. so without further ado... a step-by-step guide for coping with bpd

tw for mentions of emotional manipulation, self-harm, and suicide. none of it is in-depth, but i figured i’d warn anyway.

1) decide that you want to cope in a healthier way.

this seems kinda strange as a first step, but to me it really is the most important step. living with bpd all my life and being in therapy since i was 10 taught me a lot about willingness. saying “i want to be healthier” sounds like a no-brainer, but it’s actually really difficult. you have to sit yourself down and ask yourself: do i really want to fundamentally change the way i think about situations, about myself, and about other people? am i willing to work on this, even though it’s hard? and am i willing to give up on the unhealthy coping mechanisms i’ve been clinging onto?

i’m being totally genuine here: it took me years to get to the point where i could say: yeah, i really, really want to stop emotionally manipulating people to get what i want. i’m so sick of basing my self-worth on what other people say and do. i’m so scared that i am my bpd, and that there’s nothing else inside me; i don’t want it to be that way anymore. i want to have healthy and fulfilling relationships with other people. i want people to stop being afraid of me. i want to love myself. i really and truly do. and only when you come to that (awful, gut-wrenching) revelation can you actually start helping yourself. if you’re not at that point, that’s totally fine. i had to go through a hell of a lot to get there, and i understand not everyone is there. i wish everyone who can’t make this decision yet the best, but i really don’t think this post will be the miracle cure you’re hoping for. you can still read it for sure! i’m just saying that this first step was an extremely necessary one for me, and the next steps get a lot easier once you make this decision.

okay, so you’ve come to the realization that you really, really want to learn some new coping mechanisms. where do you start?

2) look into dbt (dialectical behaviour therapy).

ok. i’ve been going through dbt for a while, and i swear to god, it’s good. dbt was made for people with bpd, and it’s different from cbt in that the skills aren’t just cognitive. there are four sections of dbt skills: mindfulness, emotion regulation, distress tolerance, and interpersonal effectiveness. it may seem overwhelming, but all these skills are very practical and don’t just focus on “hey you’re thinking this? stop it.“ if you have access to a counsellor or therapist, ask them about dbt. if you don’t have access, try to find some stuff you can work on online. i did a quick search and found three sites (one, two, three).

if you have a therapist or counsellor that you can talk to about this, feel free to skip the rest of this section (or read it so you can surprise your therapist with your knowledge). for those of you who don’t have someone to guide you through this, i’m aware all these skills seem incredibly daunting. my recommendations for beginner skills are the following:

PLEASE skill, or reducing vulnerability to emotions (under emotion regulation)

nonjudgmental stance (under mindfulness)

stop, tip, distraction, or improve skills (under distress tolerance)

dear man or myths about interpersonal effectiveness (under interpersonal effectiveness)

reducing emotion vulnerability was the first skill i started working on. when i was first diagnosed with bpd, i was working at a restaurant without any meal breaks. i’d have meltdowns at work and after work, and it took this skill for me to realize that i needed to pack a snack or eat right after getting off my shift, because i was most vulnerable to my emotions when i was hungry or tired. when you understand how food, sleep, exercise, mood-altering substances, etc. all play into how vulnerable you are to your emotions, you can start thinking more clearly about situations and you can start coping ahead to reduce that vulnerability ahead of time. you’d be surprised how much this one helps.

nonjudgmental stance is probably one of the most helpful skills i learned. one of my therapists put it this way: if bpd is an allergy, then invalidation is the allergen. meaning: the thing that’s going to irritate your bpd and trigger problem behaviours is invalidation of emotions. it’s shame, and judgment. everyone judges themselves (which isn’t really healthy, but it is a part of our societal structure), but for us? that shit hurted. i can’t count the amount of times that i’ve been crying and then thought something like “god, you’re just so pathetic“ and started crying even harder. our impulsive behaviour and the decisions we regret almost always stem from a core feeling of being invalidated. remember that time that you were talking about your feelings to someone and they seemed dismissive, so you decided you hated them with every fiber of your being? yep, me too. that’s us reacting to invalidation. in general, we don’t really validate ourselves. quite the opposite! most of the time, we tear ourselves down and expect others to fill that void for us. (a lot of people do this, but it’s really problematic for us in particular because of our generally self-destructive behaviour.) so learning to be compassionate with ourselves is a really important step to take. if you like meditations, look up loving kindness and self-compassion meditations. rain is also a really good meditation to do, but i think it can be really painful to do when you’re just starting out. i’ve linked it at the bottom if you want to check them out, but try not to overload yourself! just stick to one you really like.

stop, tip, distract, and improve are all really good skills to start out with because they’re skills you use for when your skills run out. if you find yourself really struggling with crisis situations a lot, these are good to start out with. they’re specifically meant to calm you down, to get your emotions and adrenaline to a manageable level. if you struggle a lot with engaging in problem behaviour under stress, this one is golden. i used to struggle a lot with substance abuse, and these skills were lifesavers. instead of going right for the substance, i’d use stop. i’d distract myself for a while, surf the urge until the wave of emotion passes. then i could use skills like please by getting something to eat, or dear man by addressing the interpersonal problem with a level head. and on that note...

dear man / myths about interpersonal effectiveness, which is a great skill if your main problem is about asking for help or establishing boundaries. i used to have a lot of problems about asking for things properly (hence my habit of emotionally manipulating others to get what i wanted or needed), because i felt that if someone said no to me, i wouldn’t be able to handle it. or that people would hate me if i asked for things, or that i should be able to handle things on my own. in a way, it felt easier to rely on making others feel bad for not doing more for me rather than to ask outright. these myths are hard to unlearn, but it’s a good place to start if your main trigger is about boundaries or asking for help.

ok, so you’ve started working on a skill. a skill. don’t burn yourself out here, it’s okay (and more productive) to just focus on one instead of trying to change yourself overnight. and on that note...

3) be kind. remember change won’t happen overnight, and keep going.

this one is difficult, because... like, it’s not gonna be easy. i remember i used to have meltdowns and think, “no. i’m tired of being skillful. i’m tired of being the bigger person. i’m sick of this.” and that’s why the first step is so important, because you’re going to need that resolve to say, “hey, i haven’t engaged in my problem behaviour for so long. let’s not start now. i know it’s frustrating, i know it’s so easy to go back to what we know, and at the same time, i want to be better. i know i can be better.”

and even if you do engage in that problematic behaviour again (which, let’s face it, you probably will, because no one is perfect and everyone messes up, and that’s 100% okay), you need to remember this and be compassionate with yourself. everyone messes up. everyone says things they don’t mean to. everyone does things that they regret. everyone falls into old patterns from time to time. what’s important here is to stop beating yourself up over it and start doing something different. if you went back to self-harm, if you started calling up everyone you know and threatening to kill yourself, whatever it is — don’t conflate yourself with the behaviour. instead, take ownership of it. make amends with those you hurt instead of running away or self-sabotaging, think about what happened and try to make sure it doesn’t happen again. slip-ups happen to everyone. literally everyone. so please try not to be hard on yourself if it happens. be disciplined, but not harsh. i promise, beating yourself up over mistakes is only going to hurt you and everyone around you.

conclusion

if you’ve read this far, thank you so much for doing so. i know that when you’re in the thick of it, it’s so hard to imagine yourself having a future, to imagine that you can make friends, keep people around, be anything but the sum total of your perceived failures. but you can. it’s difficult, believe me, it’s difficult, but it’s possible. and i believe you can do it. and trust me, there’s no way you’re going to disappoint me, no matter how much you feel like you’ve fucked up. if you can, just try it out, and i’ll be cheering you along every step of the way.

more resources, if you’d like them:

in general, this site is pretty good for handouts. and again, here are the three sites i linked above (one, two, three) that i found through a cursory search. 

also, look into unhelpful thinking styles if you want. this is the worksheet i have, and it’s genuinely really useful. i keep it in my workbook and look at it to remind myself of when i’m unintentionally using them.

russ harris, who talks a lot about living a fulfilling life. here are some videos of his that i really like (internal struggles, the choice point, the struggle switch).

jon kabat-zinn and mbsr (mindfulness-based stress reduction). seriously if you’re into mindfulness this guy is so good. 9 attitudes in particular is a video i personally really like.

the aforementioned rain meditation, by tara brach. this one is all about learning what you need and providing it for yourself. it’s part of the larger loving kindness and self-compassion umbrella.

kristen neff has a website with self-compassion exercises, as well as books and such that she’s published. if she’s not your style, search up loving kindness or self-compassion meditations and i’m sure you’ll find other people that you might vibe with more.

i know brené brown deadass exploded in popularity a while back, but there’s a reason she did. all of her stuff about shame is incredible. here are two of her ted talks that hit different for me personally (listening to shame, the power of vulnerability)

also, if you can... maybe invest in a dbt skills workbook. i use the actual marsha linehan dbt skills training book, which can be a little complicated, but it works for me because my therapist is there to explain it. i’ve heard good things about the dbt skills workbook by matthew mckay, but i’ve never used it personally so i can’t attest to how comprehensive it is. if you can go to like, an actual bookstore and flip through the pages, that’d be ideal. but since we’re in a pandemic, idk how feasible that is. i’m not really a self-help book kind of person, but i’d recommend authors like pema chödrön, brené brown, kristen neff, and russ harris (and jon kabat-zinn? does he publish books? if he does then i rec them). if you’re in a post-secondary institution, try checking your school’s library! i’ve found a few books there. also, public libraries tend to have some of these books too. so if you don’t have the money to actually go out and buy these books, i’d suggest borrowing books from libraries and photocopying the pages.

[dejaaalm]

Fearless

I remember when I turned 16 years old, my mom brought me to Subway to apply for my first job. Applying and doing the interview was easy, but my first day on the job was really scary. I had so many doubts and questions. Was I ready to work? To make sandwiches in a fast-paced work environment? To provide good customer service? To count money and give back change correctly? I had all the thoughts and worries a 16-year old would have on their first day of working.

I remember the supervisor teaching me how to make all of the different sandwiches - this meat goes in here and this sauce goes with this. I felt fine at first because he was there to guide me. I felt confident and rest assured knowing that he had my back if I messed up. Two weeks after training, I was on my own. I felt lonely and unsure of what to do. I did not want to screw anything up. I still remember the first time I closed the shop all by myself. I had forgotten the password to the safe, how to alarm the store, and how to refill the pop machine. It was a disaster and I remember feeling so overwhelmed and afraid that I would get fired.

This experience made a huge life-long impact on me. The constant battle of feeling so fearful often wrapped its wings around me. When I got my job at Hennepin County in 2016, the adrenaline of fear slowly crept up on me again. My hire group and I were in training for about 2 months and then we were left to be on our own to prove that we were worthy enough to make the cut and be a permanent team member. Previously, probation was 6 months long. Training lasted 2 months and then we have 2.5 months to process cases and have them be reviewed. I needed to pass both months with a cumulative average of 85% or higher to show that I understand policies and procedures.

I witnessed people from the previous hire groups get fired. There were a few people in our group that got fired or left to find a new job. I was mad and irritated with health care policies and processing procedures. I wept and wanted to quit every day. I felt so neglected by my senior colleagues and supervisors. I felt like God left me there to be tormented and slowly die on the inside because every ounce of confidence and pride that I had left within me had gone out the window. I began to question my own worth. Am I cut out for this job? Do I suck this bad? Do these numbers and percentages really depict my worth?

I was angry for a while. One day, I was praying to God about how hurt and mad I was about the probation process. During my prayer, God revealed something so prominent that I will never forget. In the quiet, I heard "But this was the job you desperately prayed for a few months ago. This was the breakthrough you cried for. Now that you have it, you want to quit?" Right at the moment, one of my favorite Bible verses pierced my heart: Jeremiah 29:11. "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

Right then, I stopped crying. I stopped bickering. I stopped venting. I began to praise him and thanked him for all that I have been given. I promised myself that I would work harder and shift my focus from my defeats to my victories. I would allow God to use me, mold me, and take me to where I need to be.

That prayer led me to so many incredible experiences and connections with people at my workplace. This is not to say that I completely stopped feeling fearful, overwhelmed, angry, and anxious because I still feel all of these emotions from time to time. I still feel defeated and have lots of questions sometimes. The difference is that I have a better coping mechanism and I've learned to really do a lot of self-care. Instead of re-evaluating my entire life and mishaps, I focus on realistic goals that I can reach. Instead of feeling sorry or sad for myself when I didn't do something well, I focus on how I can improve. Shifting my mindset and letting God take the lead has really allowed me to take on opportunities at work.

I got two promotions last fall! I got promoted to be a senior and to be a mentor. I train new workers to potentially become a worker like my colleagues and me. I create training materials and activities, facilitate group discussions, train in-person and virtual training courses, and so much more. For the most part, I love my job. COVID-19 has really stretched my co-workers and me in a lot different ways on a personal and mental health level, but we're hanging there and doing our best to provide meaningful training content.

We have two new hire groups. Our Aug 2019 group completed their formal training and case reviews already but we are still providing support to them. Our March 2020 group started at a really awkward time. It happened right after Gov. Tim Walz ordered everything, except for essential workers, to shut down. We've been training everything virtually. We work with a very complex health care system so it's not easy training this stuff virtually.

Before the state was ordered to shut down all non-essential workers and employment, we were gearing up our Aug 2019 group for the formal period--that is to dissect their case work and look for errors. This process is currently on hold. I could see on their faces how stressed out they were. In fact, one of them broke into tears and walked out of the classroom a few months back because she was so overwhelmed by the amount of test evaluations they were taking. I was not there but when I heard about it, I wanted to hug her and tell her that everything was going to be okay. All of what they're going through right now is to prepare them to gain the knowledge and experiences needed for their future role as it has done for me.

I think our relationship with God is a lot like that. The beginning stages always feel like we're on cloud nine and things are going smoothly. We happily pray every day, sing songs of praise, read scriptures, and intentionally engage in bible studies with friends. We attend conferences, retreats, and worship events to be filled. We want and search for that feeling of "God is in my life and he's guiding me onto the right path." It feels good to have a sense of direction or feel that God is holding us in the palm of his hands. But what about when we hit rock bottom or get close to it? Or, how about the days when we feel like we're worthless, our life has no meaning or value, or you feel like no one cares about your passion and goals. Even in my own personal walk with Christ, sometimes I feel like that long lost and lonely 16-year old making sandwiches at Subway. I need someone to hold my hand. I hate the process. I hate the struggle. I hate what I'm going through. I need to be reminded of my purpose and that God still has a plan for me.

Often times, I was afraid. I was constantly afraid of doing things on my own, or facing trials and challenges, or trying new things, or believing that God really does have a unique plan for me. I realized that my biggest fear is actually not really a fear. I have a trust deficit. I don't trust myself, my skills and abilities, and sometimes, I don't even trust those closest to me. They say, trust in God because he has a plan for you. How can I trust in God if I can't trust myself and others?

Being fearless is something I struggled with. I'm afraid of so many things but most importantly, I'm afraid of my journey with Christ. I'm afraid to let God take control of my life. I'm afraid of being obedient because I don't know what's ahead of me. If you're anything like me, I like to read spoilers before reading a book or watching a movie or tv show. It is so weird but I do that all the time. I don't want to feel like I wasted my time on something so good but it ended so terribly.

It's easy to look up scriptures and read it and say "Oh, that was really good. I needed that today." This doesn't have any meaning. It's a quick "hand-holding" moment that often times lasts for a few minutes and is forgotten. One scripture in particular that has really been my living testimony the past decade is Joshua 1:9 - "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go."

When I was younger, I always liked this verse. I had it memorized and even recited it out loud whenever I was afraid. But to believe and trust in it was a different process. To see the word of God come to life and manifest in my life was compelling. This bible verse is no longer just an encouraging or inspirational verse. It's alive! It's real. Believe it. Let scriptures come alive.

I don't think it was the struggle of the work or the amount of work that I was afraid of; I was afraid of not knowing what will happen. I was already afraid of the possible negative outcomes if my performance was poor during probation. I was afraid knowing that I was on my own. But God says that we are never alone for he is always with us wherever we go.

During this pandemic, it is completely normal to feel fearful. It is our natural response to a global disaster such as COVID-19. Our social media and news outlets continue to feed us fear. We fear of being disposed to illness, fear of being sick, fear of dying, and fear of running out of food and supplies. Our entire focus is on social distancing and staying safe. Fear has consumed many of us. I encourage you to relinquish your fears today, whatever it may be or what it is related to, and let God take the lead. He knows your strengths and weaknesses and what you are capable of doing more than you know. When you let go and let God, you find the courage and strength to overcome your fears.

It’s easy to fall through the cracks and let the enemy seep through with lies and chaos. Whatever you are going through, know that God is bigger. I often tell my kids to trust me because I know what’s best for them and I know that they don’t know, so in essence, God is the same way. We don’t know what the outcome will be weeks and months from now, but we do know that God is loving, forgiving, kind, and faithful. Call unto him and he will hear you. I am praying for you, dear friend. Be fearless!

[prorevenge]

Dispute over an alarm clock ends a career.

A recent petty revenge story made me remember this experience from my teenage years, but this one definitely went all the way to pro. Strap in, it's going to be long. tl;dr at end.

So, just before my senior year in high school I turned 18 and bought a car with my saved up years of babysitting money. I'd have liked one sooner, but my mother absolutely refused. At 18 in my big act of teenage rebellion, I went out and bought one.

A couple months later, Auntie Asshole suddenly left her job from several states away and moved in with us. Without her car. It cost less if she waited six months until spring to get it shipped. Something about snowbird travel patterns. She was cheap and a user as well as an asshole.

As I result I was expected to share my recently acquired car with Auntie Asshole until hers arrived. This seemed deeply unfair, but nonetheless it was agreed upon that she could use it for appointments and job interviews since I could take the school bus. I needed to be warned in advance because my bus stop was the second one of the route. It left a lot earlier than I needed to if driving direct, and I liked sleep.

You may be wondering about now what this has to do with an alarm clock. Auntie Asshole is one of those people who likes to rile people up, then mock them for getting pissed off. She's always got a complaint, harsh word, and is feuding with somebody over something. Once she moved in with us, her complaint was my alarm clock. My room shared a wall with hers. The alarm was waking her mooching, unemployed, broke ass up every morning, and that pissed her off. Couldn't I just go to bed earlier so I didn't need an alarm clock?

The morning schedule at our house went something in the ballpark of this:

5:30 AM my workaholic mother leaves for the office.

5:45 AM my alarm goes off if taking the bus to school

6:15 AM my alarm goes off if driving to school

6:15 I leave if taking the bus to school

6:45 I leave if driving to school

Half past never: Auntie asshole's unemployed toushie needs to be anywhere

Auntie Asshole approached my workaholic mother about the horrific inconvenience of my using an alarm clock. Her solution was that my mother should wake me up every day at 5:30 before leaving. My mother told her to try earplugs or work it out between us. Workaholic Mother was massively non-confrontational and wanted no part of an Auntie Asshole dispute.

Auntie Asshole started sneaking into my room to unplug the clock after I fell asleep. I'm a hard sleeper, so she pulled this off a few times. I had a good number of tardies before I figured out it wasn't the new cat who initially got blamed. Woke up to see her standing over my bed one night. CREEPY! I screamed like a banshee waking the whole house. She claimed sleepwalking, and my mother let her get away with that lame excuse.

I endeavored to solve the problem myself with some superglue. Not the brightest move I made. That house got sold with a bonus electric blue alarm clock, and Auntie Asshole started turning the alarm off instead of unplugging it. So I started sleeping with my alarm clock tucked behind my pillow. No way Auntie Asshole could do anything to it without waking me now.

She was PISSED at having not gotten her way, and never let anything go ever. Auntie Asshole's next move was to get up when the alarm went off and race into the only bathroom with a shower. It was closer to her room than mine, so she always beat me there. She'd stash magazines in there to sit on the commode reading until right around 6:20. This is after the school bus has left, but still before I need to leave driving direct. Once I was taking a very rushed shower, she'd steal my keys and take my car ... wherever the hell the unemployed go to drive around all day.

She claimed that I just wasn't paying attention when she said she needed the car. She wasn't telling me. When my mother wasn't around, she made snide remarks that if she was woken up she had just as much right to the bathroom as I did. I could solve this problem by not waking her up. In addition to this she would take my car evenings and weekends always right before I had babysitting gigs. It never returned with more than fumes in the gas tank. She had to call roadside assistance twice for running out of gas because she'd guessed wrong on how far she could get on fumes.

Needless to say I was pissed. Also massively inconvenienced, and a lot poorer. I had beg friends for last minute rides or take a cab. She continued to blame me, and my mother stayed out of it. We got into a cat and mouse game with my keys where I eventually kept them on me at all times - even in the shower (this was an old car some years back; no electronic keys were harmed). The keys came in the shower with me because the counter wasn't enough to stop her from pulling the bathroom lock (pocket door; trivial) and coming in while I was showering to take them. Again, CREEPY! This eventually resulted in her asking in advance to borrow my car for a "job interview" that probably wasn't. She went to the key shop and got my car keys copied.

The next day, my keys safely back in my possession, she pulls the shower stunt again. She did it a lot even when she wouldn't take my car. Auntie Asshole was an asshole. I head out to the driveway keys in hand, and my car's not there. Legit thought she'd hot-wired it until I got home and it showed no signs of tampering. I'm not much for poking the bear, but it was time to have this out. Auntie Asshole quite smugly admitted to copying the key, called me a selfish bitch who didn't know how to share, and many other unfortunate things I don't remember exactly. She wasn't giving it back. What was I going to do?

I warned her that car was mine and she did not have permission to use it ever again. This was a bridge too far for me. There would be consequences. She laughed in my face.

The next morning my car was not in the driveway. I'd expected this. My best friend's dad was a cop. I was practically a fixture in his house for a decade, and he was the closest thing I had to a father figure due to my own deadbeat dad. So I gave him a call utterly distraught that the car I've worked so hard to get has been stolen from my driveway. He's very sympathetic. Did I mention my car had LoJack? It was actually a very nice car ... back when it was new anyway. We do all the reporting and whatever it takes for the cops to find it with LoJack.

By mid-afternoon they'd found it in the parking lot of an outlet mall. I don't know what the full details of the encounter were as I've heard multiple versions of this part of the story over the years. She had some kind of bitch tizzy on them upon being accused of theft including a tussle with an officer. It ended in charges of grand theft auto, resisting arrest, assaulting an officer, and some kind of license-related thing because she'd never switched it to her new state of residence. Don't throw a bitch tizzy at a cop. They don't like it much.

As this all took some time, she didn't get arraigned that day. As her unemployed broke ass had horrid credit and little money, she couldn't make bail. As I deleted her answering machine message begging my mother to come bail her out, my workaholic mother didn't even notice she was gone for almost a week. Once workaholic mommy did notice, I explained that my car had been stolen and I called the cops. I was handling the situation myself like she suggested. The look of dawning horror was amazing, then she shrugged and went back to avoiding all confrontation. Auntie Asshole served two weeks in county lockup until she took a plea deal. I suspect they slow walked her paperwork a bit.

What happened after was glorious revenge. Auntie Asshole's remaining savings were used up on all the fines and court fees, so she finally got around to shipping her car and engaging in a job hunt. One problem, she was previously a teacher. She'd yet to get her certification in her new state. Now she had a rap sheet and was unable to pass the background check. Whoops! Time for a new career as a telemarketer.

Auntie Asshole didn't bother me much after that. I learned years later she only went after kids hard, and I had proved enough of an adult she realized there were consequences for her actions. We spent the next few months ignoring each other before I headed to college.

And that's how a dispute over an alarm clock ended Auntie Asshole's teaching career.

tl;dr: Asshole aunt moves in and can't handle an alarm clock going off in the morning. Escalates dispute to the point of regularly taking my car without permission and making me miss school. I call cop friend to report missing car. It has lojack. She's dumb enough to get into a tussle with a cop when caught. Goes to jail for a bit. Can no longer pass background check, thus loses teaching career.

Edited to answer a few repeat questions:

What's up with your mother? Mental illness. She was not a bad person. She simply had almost no capacity to deal with conflict and retreated into her work as a coping mechanism. With time and understanding, I am sympathetic to her role. She has since passed away.

Why didn't you call the cops sooner? I had never dealt with anybody so lacking boundaries like Auntie Asshole before. I genuinely thought there was a limit, and I just had to handle things until we got there in the name of family harmony. It was also supposed to be temporary. I had college coming up quick and she was supposed to find a job/apartment, so it was very time bounded. It's the nuclear option to call the cops on a family member, and a very scary thing to contemplate at 18 years old. I also wasn't sure it would work given she could claim I was confused about permission and the chances my mother would back me up were close to zero. Once I still had my keys in hand and no car in the driveway, that was a game changer in my eyes.

Can we get more of an epilogue? There's not a lot to say. I went no contact with Auntie Asshole after leaving for college. Between her prison stint and my departure, she ignored me and I returned the favor. I found out later that she only seriously picks on kids. I'd proved myself an adult who could deliver consequences for her actions. Now I spend holidays with my husband's lovely family and visit the stable family members at other times. Somehow I have hair washing to do every reunion. Whoops. She's never gone back to teaching, thank goodness.

(source) (story by sunnykl)

[fortuitousmind]

Living Life in the Era of COVID-19: We’re Not Feeling too Hot

Check in on your friends. Check in on all of them, but especially the friends that you know struggle with mental illness.

I’m about to make myself incredibly vulnerable, but at this point I know I can’t be the only one feeling this way. This entry is moreso an avenue to vent than an informative resource. Things in my head are bad. They’re really bad.

They’re so bad that I was off of work all last week because I had some symptoms of illness and I still could hardly bring myself to show up this morning. I’m having a hard time convincing myself to make it in tomorrow. Being alone is hard. Being around others is scary. I’m worried about my family. I went through a bottle of hand sanitizer in six hours at work today. I’ve been having panic attacks because I’m terrified of getting sick. My lungs are garbage and my inhaler hasn’t been helping. I’m the only person at my apartment and if anything happens that causes my lungs to give up, nobody is going to know. That scares me.

At first I was indifferent about school going online, but I’ve started to realize everything that’s been taken from me. I have a lot of friends that I’ll probably never see again. I finally had a group of people around me who consistently worked to build each other up and genuinely just enjoyed each other’s company, and I’ve never had a steady group of friends in my life, and now we’re separated. A lot of us are seniors. I was looking back at all of the pictures I’ve taken in the past year and there are so many memories that I was ready to make more of.

On top of that, I can’t read on computer screens. I just can’t. I got a concussion the winter before last and it still hurts to read anything on my laptop. My eyes don’t focus on the words. Pitt shut down their printing services. If I can’t physically take notes directly on the article, I don’t understand what I’m referencing when I look over it again later. My memory has gotten so bad that my doctor referred me for a neurocognitive function assessment. I missed class the entire week before spring break because of my mental health. I have no motivation because my mental health is so taxing right now that I can’t put energy into anything else. My grades are going to suffer.

All of my mental illnesses are flaring up at once. I keep having panic attacks related to my PTSD that aren’t even touched by the medication I’ve been prescribed. I have constant anxiety about every single thing that’s happening all at once. I’m so on-edge that if more than one noise happens at the same time, my brain just shuts down from overstimulation. I’m paranoid from being alone. My depression is the worst it’s been in years (and I keep saying that, but each time it comes back I seem to slip further and further into the abyss). I need a medication change, but I don’t have a psychiatrist right now. I know exactly what dose of which medication I need because it’s been effective for me in the past, and I have an entire bottle of this medication, but I can’t get ahold of my PCP to ensure that she can refill it if I start it back up. I need therapy, but my therapist isn’t making appointments because she and her husband are both vulnerable to severe complications if they get sick. My chronic passive death wish has gotten more intense and is at the point where, if it gets any worse, I’m going to need more help than I can give myself. I don’t trust myself because my impulsivity has skyrocketed and nobody is here to check me on it. I’ve started falling back into the pattern of attempting to sabotage my relationships so nobody has to deal with me anymore because I’m exhausting myself with my own mind and am afraid of people abandoning me first. I haven’t been nice to my body either. I’m glad it’s still cold outside.

For a lot of people, myself included, being isolated at home alone can quickly become dangerous as we lose access to our typical mechanisms of care and coping, as well as our ability to reach out to others for help in ways other than speaking over the phone. One of my go-to safety measures is going to a friend’s house so I don’t lock myself in my room and so I know I’ll be in a safe environment. All of my friends are either working, sick, or hours away. I can no longer engage in the one thing that has never failed to guarantee my safety. I can’t distract myself by going to museums or walking around the city or hanging out in a coffee shop. I can’t get to the store to buy things that I know would significantly help me. Even if I could go to the store, I am paranoid and anxious and afraid of what could happen. I’m not supposed to hang around other people and my darkest moments have always been when I’m alone with my own mind.

I’m not sharing this for a pity party. I don’t need anyone to call the cops to come check on me. I have a lot to live for and so many things to do and so many people to help and so many places to go and so many concerts to see and so many dogs to pet (I would like to mention that the highlight of my day was my parents surprising my sister and I with a puppy. Our dog passed away last June), and I still haven’t hugged Harry Styles.

I just want people to know that a lot of us are struggling with a whole bunch of things right now. Remember to be kind. Remember to be loving and to spread the love. Remember that things will not be this way forever (although it sure does seem like it right now). It’s okay to not be okay, and we are all significantly less okay at this moment in time, and it’s okay to break down the wall and express that instead of hiding it away. I want people to know that they’re not alone in their struggles.

Some things I tell people I work with all of the time that I’ve been trying to remind myself of:

Things are not going to be like this forever.

Things are going to get better.

There are a lot of people who care about us.

We have to be patient with ourselves because we don’t all have control of our own minds.

We need to trust our instinct when our brains tell us we need some assistance.

It’s okay to need help.

We don’t need to go through this alone.

I am struggling, and I know I’m not the only one. Every time I look on social media, I am reminded of the state of the world and the fear and sadness that plagues it. I fall further down the rabbit hole of negativity and can’t pull myself out of it because it seems like it’s all that’s out there right now. Check on your friends. Check on your coworkers. Check on the people who can’t stay home. Check on the people who have to stay home. Check on yourself, too.