#the ​anxiety/panic attack he experiences in that movie is very relatable and he is my comfort character now

[mentalspaco]

I finally went to see Puss in boots..

[indigo-villin]

I saw inside out 2 (spoilers)

I saw the movie and have thoughts. Read under cut at your own discretion.

So first thing first I LOVED seeing where the main emotions slept, their bunk bed set up was adorable!!!

Second off, seeing how joy and sadness have developed since the last film was nice. I loved seeing joy call sadness a goober.

Third off, fear you cannot "fix" anxiety, you can't even fix yourself.

Fourth!! I recognize that the story is very similar to the first but with anxiety instead of joy, but personally it's still different enough to warrant the "retread".

Fifth. Envy being a little child was perfect given the nature of the emotion. Ennui also being teemager coded was perfect too.

Sixth! Seeing Riley act on her own accord and "be her own person" outside of the emotions helps cement the thoughts from the first movie cause in the original she was just a vessel, but here she chooses to do things and tries fighting anxiety when she's clearly doing something wrong/not Riley's style.

Seventh. The ending with the panic attack was super real and really got to me. It was exactly how it feels.

Eighth. The actual ending, ie at the start of the credits when anger reveals he brought the pack guy up to headquarters. My first thought on that idea was "oh hey they have a fictive in there now!!" Cause honestly if you didn't know/haven't read my new pinned post I'm in a system and the inside out movies have struck me as relatable to the way my system works. The first 10ish minutes of the movie especially and that end bit with the pack and everyone being nice with one another felt very relatable to us.

Honestly the movie was pretty good over all, but I did block my hearing during the cringy parts so when it's out properly I'll have to watch again with subtitles to get the full experience.

[roseofhybrids]

The best way I've found to describe being aroace goes a bit like this.

Let's take a straight man for example. He's attracted to women, but not other men. No matter how handsome or kind, no matter how well he gets along with another guy, he simply isn't attracted to a guy like how he is with ladies. No matter what your sexuality is, straight, gay, bi, pan, you simply are not attracted to your family members. No matter how hot your parent or sibling is, you just simply don't have those kinds of feelings for them because they're a close relative.

For me, it's like that but with everyone. No matter how beautiful, or how well we get along, those feelings of romantic and sexual attraction simply DO NOT occur. Be it some wires in my brain not connecting or just some mutation in my mind, whatever the cause, I just don't experience those feelings. That's just how it is, c'est la vie.

Many can try to find a reason why they don't occur, find a mental switch that if flipped would make me be able to feel that way about another person. Personally, I don't see the point in doing anything about it.

Say they created some pill that would turn me from ace to allo. I probably wouldn't bother taking it. Not because "Oh not if I'm not ace I'll just be straight and I can't have that." (and the price this hypothetical drug would have in the US of A aside). I wouldn't bother because I don't see the point in doing so.

One night, before I knew what asexuality was, I can remember laying in bed thinking it over. I thought to myself, "Well, I don't like guys... but I don't like girls either... So, I guess I'm straight but just won't ever date anyone." It wasn't till my final year of high school that I realized the flaw in that logic.

It took the better part of a year to put two and two together. Learning the word asexual didn't make me ace, it just gave me a word to describe a concept I already knew. Heck, I can distinctly recall learning the word and finding the definition very relatable. But my thought wasn't "Oh, so that's what I am" no, my first thought "neat, good for them." It wasn't until health class when I started to think about it more. I learned that the age of consent is 16 in Ohio and was confused. I thought to myself, "what's the point of it being less than 18? We're all still kids, why would anyone want to sex?" Upon later hearing my classmates talk about sex and being in relationships that it started to click that I was the odd one out. The age of consent of 16 because teens have those feelings for each other. Yet I was a teen and I didn't. It was only then that the pieces feel into place.

In a way, it was the same as when I was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. My therapist telling me that I have SAD (GAD now) didn't give me a mental disorder. It just gave me an explanation about something that was already happening. Why other people weren't scared into silence when meeting strangers. Why other people didn't have random panic attacks in the middle of class. Why others didn't get so stressed about being late for work that they give themselves 30 minutes to do a 10-minute commute.

Why does all that happen to you? Because you have generalized anxiety. Why you've never wanted a boyfriend? Why you get uncomfortable during movie sex scenes? Why it's never occurred to you that other high schoolers are horny? Because you're aroace. That's just how the dice fell, that's just how it be sometimes.

So, what would be the point in trying to change it? People can come up with X and Y reasons why I have to, and I have a counterpoint to all of them. But none of them matter in the face of one thing:

As I am now, I am happy and content with my sexuality. It's my life to live, and I'm happy to live it as an ace of spades.

[finniestoncrane]

Finnie hi! Hi Finnie hi!! Well first of all congrats on reaching 1k followers you deserve that and more because you’re an AMAZING writer and a very lovely person (and yes I know that I already congratulated you but shhhhh)

Now if it’s not too much to ask can I have number 9 pretty please? (It’s gonna be weird to describe myself but here I go)

Ok so I’m a latinamerican person with curly brown hair, brown eyes with myopia so I need to wear glasses, I’m like 1.70/5’7. I’m riddled with anxiety, and there’s probably something else going on up there in my brain but idk. I love animation be it 2D, 3D or stop motion (I love making puppets), and also I love cinema, big movie fan me. Specially horror movies, sci-fi and fantasy ones! I also love playing video games, my favourite type of games are story driven games or puzzle games, so when a game has both it’s the best for me. I really like reading books, again mostly horror (like Stephen King) or fantasy novels (like Lord of The Rings). I listen to music daily. I really like building puzzles and learning things (specially languages) AND I love everything that has to do with space and cryptids (hope this wasn’t too long I love you Finnie bye 🧡)

🎀 No.9: Ever Fallen In Love With Someone 🎀

tell me a little bit about yourself and i'll give you a rogue pairing a/n: ah gus this was PERFECT! i am so excited about this one!! and thank you so much ily ;-; 1k milestone info! 🔞minors dni🔞 • kofi • tag: finnie1k

so the thing is, i struggled between three boys, because i could have given you a scarecrow, your beloved, and i could have given you a jervis, but i think that's just because you're so loveable that you suit everyone 💚 i think though, this is a good match!

first of all, glasses wearers unite. ed obviously has a thing for people with glasses (or monocles) and i think he'd love having a partner who wears them too because his love language is acts of service. cleaning your glasses for you and putting them away carefully each night would be quick habits he formed to show you he cares

riddled with anxiety? ok first of all, he would love the casual use of any word relating to riddles so jot that down. but he shares this with you, and the other vague neuro-divergencies that we just can't put a finger on (don't we all...) but that means he's loaded with methods for grounding yourself and diverting panic attacks and he'd love to put those to use on someone he loved

he doesn't explicitly mention loving film or cinema, but ed's such a romantic at heart that i find it difficult to think he doesn't enjoy classic cinema, and even contemporary films too. he has all the potential to be a movie buff. i don't think there would be any genres he wasn't keen on, but sci-fi and animation would definitely be up his street, and he'd marathon any series with you at the drop of a (bowler) hat

and as someone who had an entire show in the narrows where he did a comedy skit about his rival, puppets would have come in handy, so expect that to be a bonding experience for you both

ed loves video games too! and story based or puzzle ones would definitely be his favourite. something like the original resident evil games where there was a plot, a mystery, some tension, and a whole lot of puzzles to solve would definitely appeal to everything he loves about gaming as a hobby

music is one of his loves, and he enjoys having it on in the background while he works away. something about a partner who enjoys it too would have him giddy. he'd grab you for a quick dance, either fast or slow, at any opportunity just to feel the music with you

someone with a strong desire to learn and a geuine love of educating themselves would be so important to him. he's a little sponge that absorbs facts and information and knowledge, and you two could bounce off of each other, tutoring the other in subjects they're not as clued up on until you have a strong, shared knowledge base. he'd make study plans, and flash cards! how romantic!!

i'm adding a headcanon in here, but i think that as logical and fact based ed is, he seems like the kind of adventurous little soul who would definitely be into the concept of cryptids, and the world beyond our own out there in the universe. he's intelligent enough to know that there's no way we're alone in the universe, and adding complicated scientific explanations to the more bizarre things that happen in our world would feel like solving a little puzzle to him

[bmaxwell]

Persona 3 Reload

I don't often replay games, especially long-ass RPG's. I've played a lot of those. Persona 3 is one of my favorites, possibly at the very top of that list. As with all games (and movies, books, show, music, etc.) it is impossible to separate the time and place of my experience from the experience itself.

I specifically remember buying Persona 3. It was the special edition that came with a slip case and art book (and soundtrack?). I hadn't played a turn-based RPG in too long and, while I'd never heard of Persona, it looked like an RPG that takes place in modern times where you go to school during the day and fight demons at night. I love slice of life stuff in videogames, so I gave it a try. And fell in love.

Right off the bat it hooked me. I'd never played anything quite like it. Nearly 20 years later I have the game in my personal top 10 and consider it one of my favorite game series. When they announced Persona 3 Reload and I saw that it was getting a full remake to bring the visuals in line with Persona 5, I was excited and a teeeeeny bit apprehensive. Would it hold up to my warm memories?

It isn't a one-for-one remake. Lots of quality of life improvements have been added - most importantly the ability to directly control your party members in combat. Gone are the days of watching your party members and hoping they heal Junpei, or don't waste SP on a combat ability when a simple basic attack will do the job.

You can now save the game more easily, there are more opportunities to leave Tartarus, and your party no longer gets fatigued after being in Tartarus for too long. They've added the baton pass system from Persona 5, and each character has a sort of ultimate ability that charges up and can be used in a pinch.

The writing still has its questionable moments. Some of which are understandable (high school guys want to date, talk to, sneak a peek at high school girls) and some less so (your classmate Kenji still talks like someone 10 years older and really wants to hump everything - including a teacher). I think I remember a gay panic scene from the original game that I didn't see this time around. The game's treatment of sexuality has always been a black eye on the series. I'd like to think they're moving in the right direction, but we'll see.

I tried to explore some different social links from my first time through, so I ended up dating Yukari and largely ignoring Chihiro this time around. I explored the story lines of the girl at the shrine, the track star, and the monk this time around, though I still pursued the old couple at the bookstore and the dying young man at the park. Sometimes the heart wants what the heart wants.

I was glad to find that Persona 3 holds up incredibly well for me, not just because of the updates to bring it in line with 2024. The game's world, story, and overall vibes land for me better than its two successors. The beating heart of the game is anxiety over the passage of time and dealing with loss.* There's a low thrum of unease always just beneath everything, and it slowly comes into focus as the story wears on. The game's dichotomy between the familiar daily school life and the mystery and danger of the dark hour is as appealing as ever.

The cast is still my favorite in the series, and I found myself interested in every one of their backstories and how their characters developed. Everyone has their own trauma and scarred history - except for Junpei. He's the game's happy-go-lucky sidekick, and for much of the game his conflict revolves around not knowing his place in the world. He's playing second fiddle to the main character, and he knows it. As the group fights to end the Dark Hour and rid the world of the encroaching epidemic of Apathy Syndrome, he knows that an end to this conflict means an end to his purpose and sense of usefulness. This lands better than you might expect and made Junpei relatable for me. He's my favorite himbo bro BFF in the series (compared with Yusuke and Ryuji).

Persona 3 Reload accomplishes what very few games have - it makes me feel invested in both the larger story of the world and the individual characters within it. It somehow feels the way the original game felt back in 2006. It's the best version of one of the best games ever made, and I'm looking forward to The Answer DLC coming next month.

*Persona 3 has two hearts.

[dzpenumbra]

3/24/23

I just accidentally titled this "3/24/56" and had the eerie thought that... hopefully... at some point in my life I actually will date a document with that date. That's a weird goddamn thought. Best not to linger on it too long... XD

I had my first human contact in several days today. My therapist, of course. It was good. He kept sorta... correcting me on my extrapolations that the shit I was dealing with the other day skating... where I was convinced I was pissing people off and something bad would happen because of it... I was trying to kinda... connect the dots that it was trauma related. He made a big point to emphasize that it was anxiety, and really hammered into that point. He clarified a few times with me to check whether it was panic or anxiety. And... well... I guess I can call myself lucky.

I'm starting to discern the difference between anxiety and panic. Again. For the millionth time. Because apparently it's my fate to just... keep forgetting shit. So... I made a point to share with him the parallel that I found recently to remember the difference. Phobos and Deimos. Terror and Dread. There's a distinct difference, and... from my understanding... they're actually different parts of the brain that are lit up? Maybe I'm off on that, I'm clearly not an expert in that field. But yeah, I'm definitely dealing much more with Dread than Terror.

But... Terror is what's unleashed when I smoke weed. Terror can come out in nightmares. Terror came out when I watched Bo Burnham's "Inside" with some random chick I met on Bumble who put her head on me when a song was playing that sounded like it was literally talking directly to me and I had one of those Truman Show moments. Those moments, those are fucking Terror. Like my life is a big fucking lie, this is just an experiment, we've been fucking with you for 20 years, see? Look, here's the cameras! Haha! Or the fun classic that I'm guessing sourced from my extensive history watching psychological horror movies - you're actually dead and you don't know it! Like Bruce Willis in The Sixth Sense (sorry for the spoiler but like... come on, you have to have seen it by now).

Those are fucking panic attacks. Like... something bad is actively, imminently happening. A meteor is crashing towards Earth. You're having a heart attack and are going to die. The world is actually ending, and you're just being notified, and now you need to figure out what to do. And moments like that? Those are horrific to go through alone. Trust me.

What I'm going through are anxiety, he's been reminding me. And I was trying to push a bit deeper with it, saying this is... trauma reinforced. That's why I was saying it was kind of a PTSD thing, mostly because of the sense of... lack of safety that I felt. That was a big resonant thing that I associate with PTSD, not feeling safe when you are safe. And a cohesive theme behind that, that tracks to traumatic events. But again, I'm not the professional here. Either way, it's anxiety, and it's clearly "inspired by" past experiences. So... I'm guessing the miscommunication there was just... nomenclature.

He gave me the same kind of advice I usually get, to challenge the thoughts and seek evidence. And... I kinda automatically do that. I just... didn't really dismantle his argument because I wanted to hear what tools he was going to offer at the end of it. Finite time, you know?

He said "do you have any evidence that you were upsetting people?" Well, I had headphones in, but someone did yell at me at one point, didn't hear what they said. And when riding by people, they very obviously don't seem... pleased... They're not excited, they're not stoked, they're not curious, they're not "oh wow, what's that, it's like a skateboard but it's moving on its own... weird..." I get "annoyed" vibes from them. I don't have clear confirmation of it because... you know... I'm not in their heads... but it lingers. And I try to shrug it off, right? Because... it's like... I could be jumping to conclusions. I get what he was getting at, and again... I do that! I do challenge the thoughts! But what really set me off that day was... evidence. Evidence to prove the anxiety right. The no-skateboarding sign, with the big fine on it. Then looking up the bylaws. I can keep that "I might be pissing people off" stuff at bay, it's hard but I have the tools. What gets me... and again, this is where I really think he started to understand the challenge I was dealing with... what gets me is when that anxiety gets one fucking morsel of concrete evidence. "You are clearly pissing people off, because what you're doing is illegal." "Of course your landlords are going to be pissed at you, there's a giant hole in the wall" "Duh your retired neighbors are judging you, you're smoking weed on your porch at 1PM on a Monday afternoon when everyone else is at work."

It makes me insecure about like... snowskating at the park and making a bunch of noise on the maintenance door. It makes me go back to when I was skating on the sidewalks in that blizzard and the cop was watching me, because what I was doing was technically illegal and I could be fined for it... And after sharing this with him, I'm just like... I think he started to get it a bit. That this is actually a pretty reasonable fear. And not quite as simple as just... dismantle the anxiety and it goes away. In this case... the law had been clearly crafted to (in case of snowskating) combat people unsafely sledding on the sidewalks of steep hills, and (in the case of skateboarding) grinding the curbs, ollieing into traffic, bombing hills, shit like that. But the laws are very general and prejudiced against all forms of riding period, not just the specific types of dangerous riding they want to prohibit. It's not "no smoking within 20 feet of the establishment" it's "no smoking at any time, ever, anywhere". So... it kinda just... fucks me over when I try to use my board practically. Or when I have 15+ years experience riding my snowskate and want to practice or even film some tricks in my neighborhood.

Professional skateboarders still deal with this when they film their parts for their actual full-time fucking job. It's been over 30 fucking years of this bullshit.

Like... I went to get pizza delivery and a package from the package room today in my yoga pants and a hoodie, no shirt underneath, no socks, haven't showered all day. And I used to be super self conscious about smelling bad. And yeah, it can take a push sometimes, but today I really didn't give too much of a shit. I can dismantle that mental argument pretty quick - "who fucking cares?" "So what, someone thinks I smell, they're being judgmental, they don't know what kind of day I'm having, let them fucking judge."

But when it comes to me... albeit negligently... breaking the law? It puts me in a bit of a quandary. I guess this is where I bring out the DnD alignment sheet and explain my shift.

So DnD alignments are personality spectrums. Chaotic -> Lawful. Evil -> Good. With neutrals in between. I have never been in the Evil camp, honestly. It's just not in my nature, it's very repulsive to me. But in my past, I had definitely willfully been more in the Chaotic Neutral camp. I loved the spontaneity and excitement of Chaos, I found it more exciting than boring old Order. The Joker is just funnier, cooler and more entertaining than Batman. Sorry, Batman. But... Chaos just brought me to Evil people. And often planted the idea in the heads of others that I was... innately self-interested and potentially Evil.

In my reformation, after my life collapsed and I grew a ton and really woke up to who I am and what I wanted to be in life... I started leaning much heavier towards actively pursuing Good rather than being on the Neutral fence. Meh, the more I think about it, I was more on the side of Good than Neutral... I've just stayed Neutral because I just don't want to be actively involved in the fight, honestly. My heart has always been aligned with Good. But I started to drift much further away from Chaos the past several years. And now, I'm probably getting closer to Lawful Good. Which is... not what I ever expected. Going from a Han Solo kinda character to more of an Obi Wan.

Lawful, in this case, not just meaning loyalty to social policies or a faction, but... orderly, structured, disciplined, predictable. And god knows a lot of that is being socially pressured. It's really weird, because... I mean... it's 4:30 AM. Literally no one else in my gigantic apartment building is awake, I guarantee it. I have barely any structure, I live on the fringe and have for a very long time. I prefer spontaneity and my career and daily life are built around pursuing creative impulses as they occur. I have deliberately shaped my life around this, which is like... literally Chaos! XD And yet... I'm more orderly than I have been in the past. I do yoga daily, I do chores, I do weekly takeout? Kinda? When I know what day it is? XD Can you tell how confusing this is for me?!

This is really my first time putting myself and my older self on the alignment grid. And... I'm really not sure where I'm at. Maybe I'm more around Neutral Good. Or even Chaotic Good. I'm clearly not Evil inclined, and clearly have a serious problem with Evil... I just... don't want to combat Evil... so I have never seen myself aligned with Good because of that. Like... I'm a pacifist... I refuse to cause harm even to Evil... And that character quality is kinda why I've gotten chewed up and spit out so much by less-than-Good people...

So, honestly... I'm pretty Chaotic. My orderly habits keep me sane and keep me in tune, but I really can't say I'm structured just because I do yoga first thing every day. And that, in itself, is not a slight against me. And fighting my Chaotic nature... has historically caused more problems than good. My Chaos is not bad. It's just... randomness. Quirkiness. My typing right now is Chaos. It's just thoughts coming straight out of my head with no editing at all. But... there's this stigma I've been around in my life. Maybe it's cultural, maybe it's my family, I don't know. They feel like if you're not "structured" and "disciplined" and all that blah blah boring bullshit... you're a bad person. You're doing it wrong. And often, you're unpredictable and dangerous.

When I last lived in this city - a few lifetimes ago - I wanted to do some kind of project (which I would consider at this stage in my life a performance art piece) where me and my friend would go undercover as homeless people for a day or two. See what life looked like from that side of society, as like... a method acting experiment. And, at the naive age of 21, I would've gladly done it if my friend agreed. I really just didn't fully process how fucking dangerous that was, and how fleeting and fragile life really is. But, there are artists that have done that kind of thing and been fine. And maybe I'm being super paranoid by even thinking that if I were homeless, I would be murdered within 24 hours. Right? I mean... isn't that... anxiety?

That switch got thrown. Whatever that is. The self-preserver. The "yeah, you better be cautious, you could die at any second." "You know what, let's go to the store tomorrow, wouldn't wanna risk... something..." "Yeah, let's not call the vet when we only got 6 hours of sleep, we might 'fuck it up'... somehow..." THAT shit. That was a big shift in me. And... I thought it was PTSD. It's definitely trauma-sourced. My therapist told me today it's anxiety. He directed me towards "Polyvagal Theory" again. Here:

Makes sense in a lot of ways. And I rarely cross that line into "I can't" anymore. I just go into evasion, procrastination, shit like that (with going to the store, or the skatepark, or calling a place because I'm nervous or something). Like... it rarely even gets to panic anymore. Anxiety and Irritation, yeah, I get that a ton. And it lingers. So... I'd see that as really good improvement. I just see all that shit on the other side way down below... and I fucking miss it, man. Connection. Safety. Social Engagement. I miss that shit.

Ugh... well, I've got tons of "homework". Affirmations for myself. Kind reminders of who I am, where I am, and what I choose to be. And I'm reading them for the first time, and they're actually really nice, and really helpful. I remember times when I was younger when I would be the "cool" kid who would scoff and turn his nose up at this kinda shit without a moment's consideration... god, that's so embarrassing... Like being judgmental is cool or something. Like fucking Roger Klotz or something, ugh. Here are the mantras:

This feeling is only temporary. I inhale peace and exhale worry. I am safe and in control.

I feel like those are going to be helpful. And the first thing that ran through my head when he told me about this was to make a piece of jewelry for myself around this. Something I wear every day, I referred to it as the "tattoo method", which he... didn't seem to connect with. I guess it's a cultural thing. Meaning... something on your person that is symbolic of a very important reminder to yourself, so that when you need it, it's always there. Like my tattoo on my chest that I can read in the mirror that reminds me that when I feel chest pains in that location, I'm not dying, it's just anxiety, and it's caused... by me. It really does help.

It's getting late. I got most of the line work done on the hoodie, there's only shading left now, then the outer ring... whenever I decide what to do with it. No rush on that. Big victory there.

And I decided to play music tonight, first time in a while. I actually recorded. Two guitar parts and a bass part. Very brief, one riff, a harmony riff and underlying bass to kinda... camouflage the hum of incredibly old pickups. It was a really cool riff, I'm very proud of myself for writing it on the fly, and without any paper or anything. Just me and my guitar, Elisha. Like the old days.

I'm inspired to keep going with that and see where it leads me. Listening to Baroness always makes me want to record 20 albums worth of guitar music, I swear! XD

Bed time, be well.

[tresradiossolis]

"?" (i wanna hear all about potential muses from you! i already love your suns so skfjskfjjd)

Potential Muses?

This was at your own risk....

tl;dr Funtime Freddy, Eclipse, Phone Dude, Withered Bonnie and Michael Afton

Funtime Freddy ××× Frederico Fabel

Frederico is from my College AU verse, a 6'8" 20 year old student at his family's college (pretty much all the Freddys are related one way or another) that focuses on Engineering and Robotics, although he's taken up studying Art and Prop Making instead, as well as Theater. There's a whole Mess of a history when it comes to who should inherit the college, but his parents gave up on Frederico pretty early on because of his Conduct Disorder, which was not properly diagnosed. This also lead to his relationship with his parents being really messy too.

He loves to make dolls and puppets, as well as more intricate work (think Audrey 2 from Little Shop of Horrors), and in every manner that he presents himself, he's a jolly jokester who loves a good pun, always dressing up in pink and generally most know him as a big softie.

He did stab his childhood friend's bully to death and then hid the body that one time though... and in his friend group, the Fun Gang, he tends to be very aggressive about getting his way. He'll do it with a smile of course, but he Loathes not being in charge.

Why I don't write him: At this point he's so much his own character that I worry I'd alienate people with him. He's also a Very dominating presence, and it's easy to do that in a small private server, I think about him daily though...

Eclipse ××× Umbra

Umbra is an orphan that's been struggling through the foster care system their whole life, and because of various trauma and just... awful awful experiences, it's left them with crippling social anxiety and phobia.

They're a hikkikomori, they do Not leave their room under any circumstances, this will give them severe panic attacks. They're very slow to open up to people and even slower to actually meet them in person, and once they do, it's a long process to even be able to get past their door.

Other than that, Umbra is a twitch streamer and is known for their game breaking speedruns, glitching through stages with ease while cursing like a sailor. People love seeing them do their work, but also love it when they get absolutely Furious on their twitch streams and chews out their entire team in whatever game they're playing. Umbra is an asshole, and we love that for them.

Why I don't write them: I've actually considered it... again they're such an OC at this point, I could maybe see them being a part of a multimuse, but then who'd read everything about the verse idk... I'd love to write Umbra though, I love this little shit

Phone Dude ××× Dylan

It's Phone Dude man. Outside the college verse, Dylan is just a dude who really wanted to create his own horror attraction, he loooooves horror movies and has quite the artistic eye for making props and even engineering, and Freddy's checks all those boxes. He's made some sick shit bro, and have recorded some movies for his YouTube that really kicked off.

Idk what to add... in college verse he studies Film and Art, he is known to make some gnarly stuff for the theater crew. He's as dumb as a rock and loves the devil's lettuce.

Why I don't write him: I can't answer that. I should probably write h

Withered Bonnie ××× Wilt Grimm

The lad to the right

A blind mortician that focuses more on grief counseling and funeral planning than the practise for quite obvious reasons. That's not to say that he isn't incredibly skilled at what he does, but the limitations can't really be ignored.

Wilt lost his eyesight and left arm in a fire when he was just a teenager, and gained severe burns all across his body with it. The incident was life changing to him, since he had been at a house party when it happened. He lost all his classmates that day, and he couldn't understand why he was special in any way for surviving. This lead him to study to become a mortician, because he wanted to help all those who grieve the loss of their loved ones in whatever way he can.

Why I don't write him: Again, he's such an OC.... also this is some heavy stuff I gotta carefully think about making public

Michael Afton

My Michael is. Basically a zombie LMFAO

He's so tired and goal driven, he has his Tasks and he's gonna Do Them, no matter what is in his way. He's not sure how to express emotions anymore, be it because he got dun scooped, or just really fucking traumatised from seeing his brother's skull cave in because of him.

He doesn't feel like he deserves to be happy, or mad, or even sad anymore. He just needs to do what his dad told him to do, but also.. he needs to make things right.

He's an excellent mechanic and can put together, or take apart, whatever you throw at him. He's a little stinky but it's nothing some wunderbaums can't fix, and he's been known to sass every now and then.

Why I'm not writing him: Intimidation. The fear of having to read up on all the lore 10 times over and having somebody tell me I got something wrong xbfbdb, I do love him tho...

[early20sfailingplenty]

(I apologize if this doesn't make much sense)

Can I have a blurb with Bo helping y/n with a panic attack?

If possible with the use of "Bo's gotcha"?

I've been having a lot of panic attacks lately where I get super shaky an overheated, an just kind of stare off while crying, an the thought of Bo calming me down has been helping them not last long but there bad when they hit...

Ooof I'm feeling this one hard tonight.😩 I'm so sorry you're going through this and I hope you feel better soon! I'm always here if you want to talk!💖

TW; panic attack, swearing, crying, shaking, emotional distress characteristic of a panic attack, mentions of rifles (I needed to give Bo something to do and couldn't think of anything; it's a very lazy plot device).

Please note that this was written first and foremost as a COMFORT PIECE, so any romanticism you may see within the experience depicted in this piece is UNINTENTIONAL. I've based this on the ask I received as well as my own experiences with panic attacks so it may not be relatable to everyone, but I hope it's generalised enough to be something that you can find comfort in.

AS ALWAYS, GENDER NEUTRAL READER, NO CODED LANGUAGE, "YOU" AND Y/N USED

I want 1234567890 of these forehead kisses please🥺🙏😭

Word count: 1, 342.

You had known when you had got out of bed this morning that it was going to be a difficult day. The trembling had started just as soon as your feet had touched the floor, your body full of anxiety and your mind overridden with fear of the unknown. How on earth you were going to make it through the day, you knew not, but you had to try. There were simply too many things to do around Ambrose and there was no time for you to worry about your emotions; they would come and go but the to do list would always remain, no matter how hard you worked.

You were fine...

... Until you weren't.

The shaking of your hands worsened through the day, as did your overall jumpiness. After the sixth time of making you jump in as many minutes just by walking into the room or tapping upon the nearest surface to get your attention, Vincent had gone to find Bo to tip him off about your deteriorating state. The youngest twin knew all the signs and symptoms of a panic attack and he was highly attuned to your distress. Ambrose was barely big enough for the three personalities which lived in it, so vibrant were they each in their own rights, so when one of you wasn't okay, everyone felt it.

When you became so shaky that your knees could no longer support you, you made your way over from the kitchen sink, where you had been staring out of the window, to the worn sofa in the living room. You had to sit down before you fell down, your breathing picking up just enough to catch Bo's attention, sat on the sofa was he cleaning his rifle. He barely glanced at you when you plopped down beside him, his icy blues trained on the television before you. There was some old movie on, one he had seen a hundred times before, but one he enjoyed mostly for its familiarity.

There was safety in the familiar, comfort, or there was supposed to be, but the quickening of your breathing was a familiar sound when you had woken up on a certain side of the bed and it was most definitely not comforting for the eldest Sinclair to hear. His shoulders stiffened and Bo turned to look at you, knowing before he did what he would find; you, staring off into space, crying and shaking like a damn leaf with your mind somewhere he couldn't follow.

Sometimes, Bo really fucking hated being right.

Your next breath caught in your throat and you tried to inhale, tried to take some more oxygen in, but you sobbed at the same second and seemed almost to choke, the strangled noise accompanied by tears pouring hot and fast down your cheeks as your careful facade crashed around you. You were shaking so hard that Bo's space beside you was moving, too, and you were almost bent over in half with the force of your crying. Bo wasn't as versed in medicine as his twin was but even he knew that that was negatively impacting your breathing.

"Whoa, hey," Bo put the rifle on the coffee table and turned to you, his knees facing you so that you knew he was wholly focused on you. "Easy, darlin'." His hands reached out somewhat awkwardly as he tried to move from the front so that you could see him coming towards you, but you were still staring off into space, your body trembling and you were clearly too hot. That was one of the physical symptoms your body displayed during a panic attack; a prickly heat spread across your skin and through your veins and it was usually one of the first signs you felt. The brothers picked up on your changed temperament, increased jumpiness and shattered nerves, but only you could feel the sickly rise in body temperature.

Bo's hands landed on your shoulders and the calloused pads of his thumbs rubbed circles there as he moved to crouch in front of you. "Can y'talk t'me, Y/N? What's the matter wit' you, huh?"

You shook your head and leaned forward, forward, until your forehead, so hot from the inside that you felt like your brain was cooking, so fried were your nerves, was resting against the sharp angle of Bo's collarbone. Your breaths were coming in harsh pants now and Bo was desperately trying to calm you down, his hands sliding down, down, until he was rubbing up and down your back in strong, rough but fluid movements. Up, down, up, down... you wrestled with yourself and actively focused on the movement of his hands. Up was an inhale, down was an exhale. It was something you had practiced before with him when you had had panic attacks and after the first time it had happened, when Bo didn't know how else to try to help you, he had rubbed your back and you had aligned his touch with your body in a way which was beneficial to you.

It had helped at that particular time and now with how frequent your panic attacks were, it was almost a tradition for you to match your breathing to Bo's touches. It was why he was so slow when he rubbed your back as he muttered the count Vincent had taught him under his breath. When a Sinclair was hurt, the other Sinclairs all pulled together to help out. It was how things had always been and would always be in Ambrose. If one Sinclair wasn't okay, all the Sinclairs felt it until such a time as whatever wasn't right had worked out.

"Shush, shush," Bo angled his head awkwardly as your breathing began to regulate so that he could press a kiss to your temple. "Shush, darlin', I got'cha. Bo's got'cha, huh? Yeah, y're all right. Bo's got'cha. Y'jus' focus on breathing, all righ'? Get some air into those beautiful lungs'a yours. Y'jus' breathe, honey. Bo's right here. M'not goin' anywhere, not so long as y're like this." Bo continued to say sweet nothings to you, but, oh, he meant every word.

Bo pushed forward into you so that he could wrap his arms around you into a hug when your breathing finally came down and you melted into him so much that he could feel your heart racing against his own. "C'mere, darlin', I got'cha." Bo stood, still hugging you, and moved himself so that he could sit beside you to resume his previous position to allow you to crawl into his lap and get yourself comfortable. Panic attacks took so much out of you physically that you usually napped right after, and Bo was always there for you for that, too. Hell, most of the time, he napped with you, for even in sleep, Bo would follow you.

He loved you too much to go somewhere without you, and that included those parts within you which tried to destroy you from the inside out.

"Tha - thank you, Bo. Fo - for staying. Thank you." You gripped him tightly, a gesture totally at odds with the uncertainty of your words and the dampness of your cheeks and Bo smiled to himself in relief as he felt you coming back down.

"Y'don't gotta thank me, darlin'," Bo scoffed and pressed a rough kiss to your forehead, his lips pressing so hard against your skin that you could feel the outline of his teeth through his lips. "S'what I'm here for." Pointedly did he lean back against the arm of the sofa and you took the invitation to lay across his body, wrapping your arms around him and getting comfortable. And if you fell asleep and Bo happened to drape a blanket over you to make you more cosy than you already were in the fleshy cage of his embrace, then who was Vincent to snap a picture from one of the many darkened, dusty corners of the house with which to tease his brother with later?

[winter-soldier-vibes]

just a wittle request, could you do something where bucky comforts the reader who has mommy issues after she has a panic attack over the thought of turning out like her mother?

Hi there, sorry this took so long! I still haven’t processed my own so I had to take a few breaks. I apologize if this is off the path of what you meant, I’m going off of my own experience but I know it’s different for everyone.

You're nothing like her.

Bucky x reader

Word count: 3219

Warnings: mommy issues, toxic childhood, talk of divorce, panic attack/anxiety, negative self-talk

A/N: This takes place in a timeline where Bucky is retired

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

You did everything you could to avoid it. To avoid her

You left home as soon as you could. When you were in college you were surrounded by people who were homesick, people who wanted to go home, people who finally had to take care of themselves. Things you couldn’t relate to.

You had been supporting yourself most of your life. Not that you had much of a choice. Your dad left when you were younger, your mother blaming it on you. If you had been better, maybe he wouldn’t have left. You, being young, believed her. What else were you supposed to do, growing up in a world that preaches ‘mother knows best’?

Load of bullshit to you.

You knew better now, being an adult, that she didn’t know best. She worked or went out with friends and left you to raise yourself, telling you it was your fault when she neglected her responsibilities. And when you would get upset she would play the victim, crying ‘woe is me’ because you were so ungrateful to the person who raised you after you drove her husband out.

“You know it’s your fault right?” she had snapped at you one night at dinner. There was a graded paper, a B written on the top of it.

“What?”

“You’re the reason he left me. He just couldn’t stand you. You’re the reason why he left and why I’m so miserable now.”

You had felt tears in your eyes.

“Tears, really? Tears aren't going to change the fact that MY husband LEFT.”

Her husband, not your father.

No, you knew better now to know that what she had done and said was wrong. But that didn’t make you forget. It didn’t make it any easier for you.

You went to college, saved up as much as you could, and gave tight-lipped smiles when people asked why you didn’t go home on weekends or vacations. You tried not to talk about her much, but that didn’t stop you from thinking about her.

You had stood at your college graduation, caps thrown and loud laughs and cheers echoing around. There were a bunch of people celebrating around you, taking photos, but you had stood on the outskirts. You had a small smile on your face for everyone else, but you couldn’t help but feel empty inside. You hadn’t made many friends, not close friends, but that was a good thing. You could take the photo so no one was left out.

Not so much of a text from her. She hadn’t come, she hadn’t called or anything.

In a twisted way, you were glad that she hadn’t. She couldn’t make a big deal about how you weren’t the top of your class or how you didn’t deserve to be. How you didn’t have a job set up to start the next week even though you already were planning on submitting your resumes. There wasn’t a way to please her, so it was almost better that she wasn’t there.

You had texted her after a few days and she made up some bullshit excuse that she had forgotten to put it on the calendar.

She liked your Instagram photo though. So thoughtful

You worried you would turn out the same way. Or that she had rubbed off on you in some way. You kept to yourself as much as you could, staying in, keeping your emotions to yourself. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust people, maybe it was, but more so you were worried that you would seem like you were playing the victim.

You didn’t want to bother anyone or make anyone feel obligated to listen to you. You worried that behind your back they would complain about you being emotional or making everything about you.

You worried they would talk about you the same way you thought about your mother.

People are supposed to look to their parents to teach them what to be, yet you found yourself wanting to avoid everything your parents did to you. They taught you exactly who you didn’t want to be.

Your father left. Your mother hated you.

You didn’t share your opinions because you didn’t want to be told you were wrong. You didn’t want to force your ideas onto anyone. Not like what you said would make a difference anyway, not that it mattered in the first place.

You remembered all of the sentences you would start but not finish because no one had heard you. Trying to jump in a few times and eventually giving up when the conversation had moved onto a new subject. All the times people would interrupt or interject, making you feel like you didn’t have something to say that was worth hearing.

You thought it would get better when you got a job. But the pressure you put on yourself to do well in school was transferred to the job you had gotten. You still were afraid that people saw yourself as your mom used to and that you would never be good enough for anyone. You thought that achievements would make you feel fulfilled.

But if you didn’t believe in yourself, what were a few “job well done's” supposed to do?

It made it hard to get into a relationship. People say that “you have to love yourself before you can love someone else,” but that didn’t feel so true to you. It was more that you didn’t trust yourself to love someone else. You worried about hurting whoever you were with, and you told yourself that if you didn’t get close to anyone, you couldn’t hurt them.

But then you ran into him.

He was on a morning run and you were walking home from a night shift, both too tired to see each other coming. You because you had just finished a shift, him because he was running off the nightmare he had had the night previous. Both of you craving a sleep that seemed just out of reach.

You were very apologetic, as was he, both afraid that you had hurt the other. You avoided his eyes even though they were trained anywhere but your own, as he fiddled with his gloved hands and you scratched the back of your neck.

It was the first time either of you had seen someone as unsure as yourselves

You had parted ways with only each other's names. Bucky and y/n.

The two of you crossed paths a few times in the following weeks, eventually getting each other’s phone numbers and agreeing to meet for coffee rather than hoping the other left at the right time. Eventually, the subtle nervous tics each of you had died down as you got to know each other.

For the most part.

You still overly apologized for everything. If you were a few minutes late, if you spaced out...you took the blame for everything.

Traffic had been bad, a storm and an accident causing you to be 5 minutes late rather than 15 minutes early. You had run into the coffee shop, scanning the restaurant with wide eyes when you saw Bucky sitting there casually.

“I am so so so sorry, I should’ve left earlier, there was an accident, I’m so sorry I’m late -”

“Y/n, don’t worry about it,” he had said, a smile on his face and a slight flash of concern on his face. “Seriously, it’s a couple of minutes. It’s literally fine.”

“No, I’m really sorry, I should’ve known or called or something.”

“Relax. It’s totally fine, I promise,” he had said, concern a little more present on his face. “Are you okay though?”

“What? Yeah, I’m good. How have you been with everything?

You wouldn’t let him talk about you. The same way your mother never let you talk about yourself.

Don’t think about her.

He had started opening up to you but you still kept your personal life under lock and key. Your name, how work was, and your physical well-being was about as personal as you got. Even so, if work had been a shit show or you had to pull an all-nighter would go unspoken. He didn’t need the burden of your personal issues. Not when there was nothing he could do about it.

The past was the past, you just had to learn how to get over yourself.

You couldn’t change what your mother had said over a decade ago.

You worried if you talked about yourself at all then you would be making the situation about you. You worried you would project your anger or sadness onto him. He didn’t deserve that. Plus, it wasn’t like he would be able to do anything, right?

You promised yourself you wouldn’t let him get too close. That if he didn’t get close to you, you couldn’t hurt him.

But damn, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t start developing feelings for him. And from the way he had started acting, you thought maybe he was too.

The hugs that were ever so slightly too tight or when he smiled at you a little longer than normal. He had opened up to you about many things in his past, and from the way he talked about it, you could tell he hadn’t talked about it much with anyone else.

You found comfort in your friendship, the way he trusted you. You liked being there for him, and you were honored that he trusted you enough to open up to you. Yet it also made you uneasy that you would ruin it in some way or drive him out.

The same way your mom drove out your father.

Goddamn it don’t think about her.

The closer you got and the closer you and Bucky had gotten, the more nervous you were. That you would turn out like your mother. You were having a harder time keeping to yourself, keeping up the façade that everything was all bright in your world. You wanted to be a light for everyone.

But at some point, days turn to nights and the light gives way to the darkness.

And you weren’t sure how much time you had left before you cracked.

Bucky had started making small moves towards you, and you were trying your best to deflect them in efforts to not fall flat on your face for him. He came over Wednesday nights for a movie and take out with you, and what started as being on two opposite ends of the couch had moved to being next to each other to him having his arm wrapped around you. Sometimes you felt he was a little too close and you would either shift away or get up to grab another drink or ‘use the bathroom’.

When you came back you would make an attempt to sit a bit further away.

Sometimes when Bucky would say goodbye at the end of the night he would hug you. That was nothing new, you were both big on hugs, but lately, he had been hugging you longer or tighter, lingering a few moments longer than could be platonic. You had started ending the hugs earlier, giving him a small squeeze before pulling away.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be with Bucky. It was that you were so scared that you would drive him away, leaving you as soon as you had started calling yourself his.

Which is what brought you here. Bucky had come over for another one of your movie nights and had his arm behind the couch rather than around you. An invitation for you to curl into his side, but he wanted you to make that choice. Eventually, you had found yourself curled up with him, his arm wrapped around you, and you could feel the tension.

You wanted to move away before you found yourself in too deep, but you couldn’t resist. It had been a long day and you found comfort with Bucky. Bucky turned his face slightly towards yours, kissing the side of your temple and you felt butterflies in your stomach. Your mind told you to shift away, to not let him get too close, but you found yourself turning your head towards Bucky and he leaned forward to kiss you gently.

After a moment you broke away, emotion taking over you. “I’m sorry, Bucky, I - I can’t do this,” you said, resting your forehead against his.

“Why not?” Bucky whispered, looking into your eyes.

Because I’ll hurt you.

I’ll disappoint you.

I’ll drive you away and I can’t lose the best thing that’s happened to me.

You sighed, standing up and moving away from Bucky. You couldn’t say those things to him out loud. Not without the entire story. And you weren’t ready to share all of that with him.

Bucky stood up with you, afraid he had just ruined the friendship or whatever relationship he had with you. “Y/n, wait, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

You had already left the room and couldn’t really hear him over the sound of your thoughts.

This wasn’t supposed to happen

I wasn’t supposed to let this happen

How could I be so stupid?

You were feeling tears in your eyes and Bucky followed you, afraid of what he did. Your breathing was picking up and you had started mumbling some of these things to yourself.

“Y/n, what’s happening, what did I do?”

You shook your head “You didn’t do anything, but I need you to leave, please,” you said, trying to hide your emotions. You hated being like this.

“I’m not going anywhere y/n, just tell me what’s wrong.”

“Get the fuck out of here Bucky! I don’t want your help!” you snapped suddenly, Bucky looking taken aback before your eyes widened.

“Oh god…”

You shook your head and started crying harder, stumbling over your words. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that, I didn’t mean to yell, I’m so sorry Bucky please don’t leave I'm so sorry.”

Bucky came forward and hugged you gently and you cried into his shirt. He whispered comforting words into your ear as you tried to breathe, embarrassed at how vulnerable you were being.

Bucky kept his breathing slow and even, trying to get you to match him. He had no idea what was happening but he knew he needed you to calm down before he asked. Whatever it was had to be something deep, and you weren’t in the space to talk about it right now.

He brought you over to sit on the corner of your bed, still hugging you as you cried. You were mumbling out apology after apology but Bucky wasn’t having any of it. He kept hugging you, telling you that he wasn’t going anywhere and that you were safe. He had never seen you so upset, or upset at all to begin with.

After you had calmed down a bit, Bucky asked you again what had happened. You shook your head, not knowing what to say.

“I’ve opened up about so many things to you, right?” he pulled back to look at you.

You nodded slightly.

“And you’ve never judged me for any of it.”

You shook your head this time.

“Then why can’t you let me do the same for you?”

You took a deep breath, fiddling with your hands. “I don’t wanna hurt you,” you said, not meeting his eyes.

Bucky drew his eyebrows together, still confused. “Y/n, you’ve been the nicest person I’ve ever met. How would you hurt me?”

You were already shaking your head. “No, see, that’s what’s gonna happen. I’m gonna be nice and sweet and...and I’m gonna fall in love with you, and you’re gonna fall in love with me. A-and then I’m gonna let you down over and over again and snap at you for things that aren’t your fault and...and you’ll get sick of it and leave and I’m going to hate myself for it, okay?”

“Hey, hey, slow down,” Bucky held your shoulders as they started shaking. You brought a hand to cover your mouth, Bucky hushing you again. “What are you talking about? Where is this coming from?”

You took a shaky breath as you ran a hand over your face. “I’m just like her, Bucky. I told myself I would never let myself be like her…”

“Like who?” Bucky asked, blood already boiling at who made you feel like this.

Her.

You weren’t supposed to think about her.

You promised yourself.

“Y/n, stay with me here,” he said, guiding your face back to look at him. “Who?”

“My mother.”

Bucky looked at you for a moment. “What?”

“You know, mothers bring you into the world. They say a mother knows when something is wrong with their kid, that babies are put on their mother’s chest because the skin-to-skin contact starts the bonding process. They’re supposed to protect you, and love you, and take care of you. But then you start to get older and it’s your fault that you were born when you didn’t ask, or your dad left and it’s your fault before you even knew he was gone. All I wanted was to be told what to do and all she would do is tell me what I did wrong. I can’t be like her and the older I get the more scared I am that I’m going to hurt everyone the way that she hurt my father and me.”

You had started crying again as Bucky looked at you, both broken-hearted and furious that someone would make you feel this way. Not to mention it was your own mother.

You took another shaky breath. “I thought the world of her when I was younger. And she barely even gave me the time of day. I keep telling myself that I’m not what she thought of me, but what if I am?” you shook your head again. “And I am so scared that I’m just like her.”

“Y/n, look at me, I need you to look at me when I say this, okay?” he cupped your face with both hands, wiping away your tears with the pads of his thumbs as he looked into your eyes. “You are nothing like your mother.”

You let out a small sob. “You don’t know her.”

“I don’t need to,” he said firmly. “You are kind and gentle. You work hard and you make sure that everyone is taken care of before you even consider yourself. You aren’t going to scare me away or hurt me.” He wiped fresh tears from your eyes. “You are your own person, your mother has no say in who you get to be. Who you are. You are not your mother, and you never will be.” he said, still holding your gaze.

You held his gaze a little longer, knowing he believed what he was saying. You didn’t, not quite yet, but maybe if he believed in you, you could too. You nodded slightly, giving him the smallest of smiles. “Thank you.”

Bucky returned the small smile. “You know I love you, right?”

“I love you too,” you said, smiling.

You meant it, and you knew he did too. And maybe one day, you would love who you’d become too.

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tags: @babydaddy-buckybarnes @buckys-blue-eyes @buckys2thicc @broadwaybabe18 @peggycarter-steverogers @im-sick-of-failing @barnesplums @bucks-bunny @mardema @abitgryffindorky @freigeistundanderes @thatfangirl42 @strawberrimae @sup--ernova

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[moonbeamwritings]

totally unrelated to the prompts you just reblogged, but here it goes anyways. Just has a full blown panic attack where I couldn’t breathe, every part of my body started paralyzing and then I threw up. Is there any possibility of a bucci gang consoling the reader and helping them calm down? If you don’t want to write it o don’t feel comfortable doing it then just ignore this

hello dear! im so sorry for the wait, but i hope you’re feeling better! i can certainly give it a go! i’ve never really experienced something like this, so i tried to keep it a little vague just so i don’t misrepresent anything! thank you for sending in and i hope you enjoy!

Bucci Gang + Comforting Reader Post-Panic Attack

tw!!!: discussions of mental health issues and vague descriptions of the aftermath of a panic attack, allusions to vomiting

At this point, you didn’t really have any idea as to how long you had been resting against the side of the bathtub. You had disappeared into the bathroom what felt like ages ago, feeling nauseous and too shaky, anxiety clawing at your lungs.

As you came down from it all, your body seemed to be aiming to expel the horrible feeling creeping up your spine, leaving you hunched over the toilet, forehead warm and chest heaving. 

A few tears slipped down your cheeks as you took in the quiet lull of the bathroom, hearing muffled footsteps and voices moving around outside the door.

Soon enough, the silence was broken by a gentle knock on the door.

“Hey,” a soft voice spoke, “you alright?”

Bruno.

You cleared your throat, “Yeah, Bruno. I’m fine.”

He could tell by your tone of voice that you weren’t, but he didn’t want to push you too far. A beat of silence followed before he asked, “Can I come in?”

You pondered the question for a moment before letting out a quiet affirmative, telling him the door was already open.

He sunk down right next to you, eyes filled with concern, “Do you feel comfortable telling me what happened?”

You explained, in vague details, the last few minutes or so, heart still thrumming in the aftermath of your panic attack. He nodded along, listening attentively as you told him about the feeling and what happened as it finally went away all while offering you a kind, non-judgmental smile.

Bruno reached a tentative hand out to gently rub at your back, watching your face for any signs of discomfort. “The others are watching a movie. It’s only just started. Do you think that’ll help get your mind off of it?”

As soon as you nodded, Bruno was up on his feet to offer you a hand to help you up, leading you out into the living room to join the rest of your friends.

“You okay?” Fugo asked, immediately honing in on the displeasure on your face.

The movie was quickly paused as you, again, summed up your experience, this time with even less details. You really didn’t need to explain the whole thing to everyone in the group. You were happy, at the very least, that Bruno held more information than the others.

When you finally finished, the others were quiet, looking at you as if you were the only person in the room, clearly aiming to take in your every word, to make you feel heard.

Fugo was the first to break the silence, “I’m no stranger to moments like that myself, if you ever feel like that again I’d be more than happy to sit and work through it with you.”

The others, although maybe not entirely relating to the feelings you had, were eager to parrot Fugo’s sentiment.

“Yeah! We can play video games or listen to music or just hang out,” Narancia spewed, eyes growing excited at the thought of being able to be there for you in a time of need.

“Giorno could make you flowers! Right, Giorno?” Mista chimed in, leaning across to the other couch to smack at the younger boy’s shoulder.

“Of course,” Giorno replied, shooting you a warm smile.

Your tears began again, overcome by how sweet everyone was and how comfortable you felt.

“Thanks, guys.”

“Come on,” Narancia called, squishing Mista against the armrest as he scooched to give you room on the couch, “We just started a movie!”

Abbacchio stood with a grumble, announcing that he would go get you a glass of water before they got the movie started. Moments later he returned, slipping the glass into your hand with the most reassuring smile he could muster.

“Thanks, Abbacchio.”

With your water sorted, Narancia slung an arm around your shoulder.

As the movie played out in front of you, the rapid thrum of your heart was replaced with blossoming emotion, assured that your friends were there for you. No matter what.

[theyscreamjade]

Denki, Kirishma, bakugo x reader who has PTSD and BPD, and when extremely overwhelmed starts crying and frantically shaking her head. *I hope you dont mind this. I wish people would do more Mental health ones. Thank you if you do reply*

PTSD & BPD

I don’t mind writing this. As I said, I can write some dark shit when I feel like it. I hope you like honey and they should, I agree with you. I’d honestly love to touch on touchy subjects such as this because it needs to be talked about more because it relates to so many people who thinks that they’re the only ones who dealt with things like this.

Disclaimer: Traumatic Events, Sexual assault, and lastly cursing. If this triggers you, please skip. Read at your own risk.

———————————————————————————————————————

Denki Kaminari

* Your fingers tapped against your thighs while anxiously wishing to go back to the apartment quickly.

* The mere speaking about water just made you crazy. Your hands shook a bit while Denki drove you two towards the beach to hang out with the old gang on such a hot day.

* The image of your hands fighting to get back to the surface to take in a deep gasp of air.

* It happened so suddenly. You were just sitting on your floaters while relaxing underneath the hot sun.

* That’s when you slipped right through the rather large holes and began to sink to the bottom.

* You were underneath the deep blue ocean, reaching out for someone to see you. You began to kick and you discovered that your foot was caught within the ocean's rocks.

* Your vision became blurry as fear rushed through your veins. A small five-year-old, fighting to survive. The last image you can see that’ll haunt you is your guardian’s cry for your name when your vision blacked out.

* Denki’s hand touching your thigh made you jump as he looked at you worried while you two stopped at a stoplight.

* “Sunshine? You okay?” He’d ask before shook his worries away. “I’m fine! I’m okay!” You lied before the light turned green. The moment your feet touched the beach's sandy surface, you stared at it as the foamy waves crashed.

* You could feel your hands shaking but you hid it as well as you could, acting as normally as possible.

* That was until Denki picked you up and made a bolt to the water. Your fear made your hair raise as your hands gripped his wrists tightly. “No, No, No, NO! NO! NO!” You screamed, closing your eyes as tears streamed down your cheeks. You latched onto his body tightly, shaking like a cold animal as your thoughts continued to flash that last image in your head.

* You were so terrified, you never realized Denki was taking you back to the car and sat with you in the backseat. He wouldn’t ask anything but rub your back, trying to calm you down.

* Your body was bundled in his towel while he held onto you tightly, your face in his sandy chest, he didn’t care that he could have a sandy backseat.

* When you confide to him of the drowning you almost experience when you were younger, he’d then ask if you wanted to leave. You should’ve told him and he would’ve never brought you out here.

* Denki is the type to do anything to make sure you’re okay. After seeing you, nearly have a panic attack and go apeshit because of the water, he’ll make sure to keep you away.

* When you two have a mission by the water or you’re on a boat, he’ll keep you as distracted as possible. He’ll hold your hand, take selfies with you, distract you with his phone, or anything. I mean the possibilities are endless with him.

* But one thing is for sure, he’ll never want to see you make that face ever again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Katsuki Bakugo

* Your PTSD is a tad bit traumatic for most but is very common. You had a fear of thunderstorms and dark clouds.

* There’s a good reason though. You once lived in a tropical area where it was prone to receive storms such as hurricanes, terrible tornadoes, and thunderstorms. The numbers were endless.

* You were ten when you were in your room when the glass shattered from your window as the wind blew harshly into you. You saw your mother snatch you and pulled you into towards her and rushed you into the hallway.

* Thunder boomed, the house you called home shook, your dog whined loudly in your lap. You begged your mother to make it stop while she cried.

* Your father was nowhere to be found since he was working that night. No warning was sent to warn you all of the storm. Nothing at all.

* You could feel the water rush to your crossed legs as the roof was snatched up. You screamed as the runaway train sound the tornado created blew past you guys.

* Tears streamed down while you held onto your mother tightly. The aftermath was godawful.

* Let’s say...you found your father that morning...hanging from a tree.

* You sat in your apartment alone, trying to relax while you pace behind the couch. You just wanted to relax. The extremely dark clouds gave you the immediate anxiety you didn’t want to have. You tried to move your focus to something else but nothing worked.

* You heard the click of a lock as your boyfriend walked in and looked at you confused. “Why in the hell are you pacing?” He questioned. “Dumbass!”

* “IM NOT IN THE MOOD, BAKUGO!” You snapped in anger before stopping. “I-I-I’m sorry..” you apologized quickly as a sudden lightning strike made you jump.

* When the large boom of thunder followed, your hands gripped your hair to your scalp. “No, No, No, No, No, No, No” you repeated, your heart racing as your mind imagined you back at your home. You were shaking and crying before Bakugo rushed to you and hugged you tightly. His hands would free your hair as he held you in his arms.

* You wouldn’t have to tell him because he knows the feeling all too well. You think even as an adult, Bakugo’s over that attack from that slime monster?

* It fucking haunts him and he has PTSD from it just as well from the All Might thing too. I see Bakugo as the type to either find a solution to help you.

* Since thunder makes you panic, he’ll buy soundproof headphones you only wear when there’s a storm. They make the sound of thunder disappear especially when you play music.

* He’ll either make you wear sunglasses that’ll block the flash or just buy blackout curtains to block the flashing.

* He honestly wishes that he could fight the storm and tell it to chill the fuck out, but he can’t.

* Just know he’s not giving up until you’re comfortable again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eijiro Kirishima

* My dear, you’ve lived a fucked up life. To put it in nicer words, Your father was a bastard who should be burned at the stake because he’s done fucked up shit to you that no man should ever.

* Yep, I’m going down this road because I want to see more of traumatic shit like this.

* All because of what your father did, it left you terrified of men. You’re gorgeous and your body developed early when you were younger.

* It didn’t give the man the right to do what he did and to get away with it as well. You spoke up about it, of course, just..did a few years too late.

* The officers told you because you waited so late, they couldn’t prove the things your father did to you.

* So you hid this memory in your mind, never to be resurfaced again. You refused ever bring it up ever again. Never again.

* Well...you and Kirishima started dating and it changed a few things. He’s a touchy guy because he would’ve never expected to catch the attention of a babe like you.

* It was a mere movie but who would’ve thought it’ll make you flip the way you did. You and he were watching a movie at his apartment. You were walking back with a bowl of popcorn and turned off the lights.

* “There you are!” Kirishima said happily before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his lap. The bowl collapsed from your hands before you pried yourself and stood up quickly, looking down at him shocked.

* This would worry him and he stands up as you stepped backward, shaking as your breathing increased. “Baby? You okay?” He’d ask you while holding his hand to you as you slapped his hand away. “N-N-No! Please! No! No!” You cried, accidentally falling over the low coffee table.

* You immediately curl into a ball and sob, holding your body together as he stared in hurt and confusion.

* He wouldn’t touch you because he’s afraid that he’s hurt you or something, but he’s going to check and make sure you didn’t get hurt when you tumbled backward.

* When you finally tell him what your father did. He apologizes quickly and begs for your forgiveness, he would’ve never done it if you told him. The last thing he’d ever want to do is to be reminded of that bastard like your father.

* In all honesty, If Kirishima sees your sperm donor, He may fuck him up or get someone to because he deserves to have the same thing happened to him in prison like how he violated you.

* Just know Kiri’s gonna love you and help you in every way he can. He’ll never want to see you curled ever again. And whenever you’re comfortable, he’s going to love you in over a thousand ways.

[msbeliever05]

Something I would like to see in The Falcon and The Winter Solider;

Sorry I’m gonna ramble for a sec, but something I really would love to see in The Falcon and The Winter Solider series is both Sam and Bucky dealing with their past and mental issues.

I know it was touched on for Bucky in Civil War, but that was about it, just touched. My mans very much so most likely has PTSD, anxiety, quite possibly depression and maybe even suicidal tendencies. I mean, dude’s basically been through hell. He took care of Steve when they were both young and had no parents, he was drafted into the war (PTSD just right there bro), kidnapped by nazis in the war, literally fell to his death, lost an arm, tortured, experimented on, and brainwashed by hydra, watched himself kill person after person (not to mention the Starks, his own best friends friend) then finally to come to 70 years later to try and start a new life only for him to be framed and become a wanted criminal.

Finally, when that situation was settled, he tried to start a new life once again but someone else came along with sorry look on their face and said “congratulations bro, you’ve been drafted once again to fight a purple cartoon grape” and I know my man probably felt like dying right there on the spot but he chose to keep on fighting because that’s what everyone needs him for right? He’s just a fighting machine, for both sides to use for their advantage. And to cap it all off (pun intended), his best friend since childhood decides to go finish living his life with some dead girl in the past.

Yeah man. My dude 100% has nightmares from the war and torture, has panic attacks anytime someone walks near him with a sorry look their face because he thinks they’ll need him to fight in some other war again, he’s got all the thoughts of worthlessness pounding in his brain and he can’t shake them out, and on those nights he can’t sleep because the nightmares are so bad he thinks if it’s even worth it anymore. To keep going. To keep fighting. To keep living through this hell that’s he’s stuck in.

Yes, I want to see Bucky Barnes dealing with his mental issues in The Falcon and The Winter Solider.

I want to see Sam Wilson dealing with his past as well. We haven’t even seen much of it at all, but we do know that he lost his friend Riley in a battle, he was in two tours, and he was a PTSD counselor for at least a little while. Even though he was a PTSD counselor and seems all jokes, sarcasm, and positivity, you can’t sit there and look me in the eye and tell me Sam Wilson doesn’t have his own demons. Bruh do you know how much damage a single military tour can do to you? And my man been through two. He also lost his partner and friend on one of those tours. You can’t tell me he doesn’t stay up at night wondering if there was something else he could do to prevent that from happening. You can’t tell me he didn’t at least have some sort of PTSD or anxiety at some point or maybe still does. And I would love to see some sort of representation of this in the show or the future.

Maybe it could be combined in a way that Sam Wilson helps Bucky through his problems. Sam would explain that he somewhat can relate to Bucky because he’s been there himself and he knows what it’s like. Sam would explain that he had to fight the same demons, but he got help to get them under control, and Sam can help Bucky get his under control too.

I would really love it (and I know I’m not the only one) if something like this were to happen, maybe not even in this show or the next couple of movies or even with these characters, but I would love to see mental health problems represented more in marvel because there’s real people who go through things like this or have problems like that and it really helps (for me anyway) to see favorite characters go through the same thing (if not worse) and have the same problems, and maybe they get help and they keep fighting it no matter how hard it gets because they find that one special thing to hold onto like it’s their lifeline because it basically is at that point and it encourages us to find something to hold onto as well, and sometimes it’s that character that becomes our own lifeline.

Because when you see your character go through something you’re going through, then you can tell yourself “well they did it, so can I”

[living-with-pmd]

11 Women With PMDD Share What It's Really Like

Premenstrual dysphoric disorder is the evil cousin of PMS. They share the same types of symptoms—moodiness, increased hunger, cravings, fatigue, cramps, pain, brain fog, and depression, among others—but for PMDD sufferers, those symptoms get so bad they can cripple a woman's ability to lead a normal life.  

While up to 85 percent of women get PMS, according to the US Department of Health, only about 5 percent of women experience PMDD, according to the American Journal of Psychiatry.

We asked women with PMDD what it's really like living with the disorder. Here are their stories:

"I was diagnosed with PMDD last summer. Six months prior to my diagnosis, I started taking a certain birth control and soon every month I was experiencing severe PMS issues. I am a generally happy person, but during those few days I was someone entirely different. I was extremely depressed and anxious, having much more frequent panic attacks, and was super sensitive and lonely. I was even suicidal, which was terrifying. And the worst part was I was convinced that I had always been this miserable, and that I would always be this miserable, and it was never going to change. It felt as if someone had completely burned out the light in me and all happiness and joy and hope was gone. I didn't make the connection that it was related to my period but thankfully a close friend did. I have since switched birth control, which helped a lot, and increased the dosage of my anti-anxiety and anti-depressant meds. Most importantly, I am aware of the way I feel those few days so I know to expect it, and I can logically remind myself that I will stop feeling that way soon. Looking back, I realize that I've probably always had pretty bad PMS or PMDD. The birth control worsened it but it was also causing a lot of issues I wasn't aware of previously as well." —Katherine H., 22, Edmonds, WA

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"PMDD is out of control. I cry really easily for about a week. My biggest issue is that I am convinced that I am failing at everything—being a wife, a mom, work projects, fitness, my whole life! And even though it feels so real I constantly have to question if my feelings are valid or if they are amplified by my cycle. I just set an alert in my phone to remind me to consider my hormones the next time I feel that way." —Krysten B., 32, Toronto, CA

———————————

"A week before my period, I become a complete psycho, completely unlike myself. I'm tearful, want to eat everything that's sweet or salty, have absolutely no tolerance for anything other than perfection, and prefer to be left completely alone. I already take an antidepressant but my PMDD was a complete nightmare so my doctor gave me Prozac to take for just 10 days a month. Basically, I start it when I start to get that irrational feeling and keeping taking it until my period starts. And that's just the emotional stuff. On the physical side, I have debilitating cramps, backaches, and headaches that last for days. Yep. I'm a peach." —Kristen L., 40, Knoxville, TN

———————————

"In the past, PMDD almost made me suicidal and totally broke my spirit. Yes it wasthat bad. Every month. Eventually I got tired of being a 'crazy PMS woman' and decided I needed to fix this. Since I don't like to take pharmaceuticals, I branched out to homeopathic remedies and I discovered St. John's Wort and essential oils, especially clary sage and Doterra Calm-Its. It's a lot better now but I still have my hard days." —Amy S., 43, Zebulon, NC

———————————

"My PMDD got so bad I had to go to a psychiatrist and be put on Prozac along with another antidepressant I was already taking. I was a mess—anxious, crying randomly over the smallest thing, and eating everything in sight. One example is someone made a YouTube mashup of the Age of Ultron trailers with Pinocchio footage and the 'I've got no strings on me' song and that wrecked me for weeks. Every time I thought about scenes from Pinocchio I would start panicking and crying at my work desk. It's been a few years and I'm better now. I'm off birth control and weening myself off the Prozac. I notice a week before my period I will sob during any sad part in a movie or book I'm reading, and a day or two before, I notice I'm more likely to be anxious." —Kate W., 36, Alaska

———————————

"This has impacted my ability to work effectively. My pet peeve is when people say 'it must be close to your time of the month' when they simply don't like what I'm saying. I have run into that problem a lot at previous jobs and it makes it really hard to be taken seriously. It's bullshit because my feelings are valid regardless and also PMDD is not a joke. I am so lucky now to have a male boss who understands but it wasn't always that way. I have also have found a lot of relief with naturopathic and herbal remedies." —Amalia F., 28, Vancouver, Canada

———————————

"My PMS was tolerable until my second child was born and then everything went off the rails. I'd be looking forward to plans with others, happy, and then about 10 to 14 days before my flow would start, my mood would turn on a dime. I'd be horrible—crying, screaming that ~nobody understands~, just so much emotional pain. I'd basically lock myself up in the bedroom for a full day to cry, get angry, and feel sorry for myself. It took three doctors before I finally found one who would listen to me before I was finally diagnosed with PMDD. I took Prozac for three years for it but it made me feel numb, like a zombie and not like myself. So I quit and my family just deals with me now. As I've gotten closer to menopause the PMDD is not as bad, but can be very unpredictable due to hormonal swings from perimenopause. The worst part now is I feel like my friendships have suffered. I always seem to have episodes around major holidays and events and I end up bumming everyone out if I do show up so I end up staying home a lot." —Colleen T., 50, St. Paul, MN

———————————

"I'm overly emotional for the week before my period. Saying that makes it sound like it's not that bad but I get so distraught that my fiance has actually scheduled it in his phone as 'blood sport' to remind himself what's coming. I'm thankful that he's patient because I also feel like everyone hates me that week, too." —Kenlie T., 36, New Orleans, LA

———————————

"All month long I'm fine and feel even and calm and then suddenly, the week before my period, I can't handle even the tiniest little thing. My irritability goes through the roof (which is not great since I have a 5-year-old) and I feel like I have no friends. It really makes me sad." —Jessica S., 28, Broomfield, CO

———————————

"I know my period is coming because all of a sudden all of my joints hurt, especially my knees and ankles. I also get crazy gnarly cramps and once I even had a cyst that ruptured while I was on a date and the guy had to take me to the hospital! It was so embarrassing. Thankfully my husband now is very understanding when this time rolls around each month. The worst part is people who just think I make this stuff up. Some months are better than others and sometimes the pain is completely debilitating! My emotions are also a rollercoaster. Anytime I see something cute or inspiring, I burst into tears." —Ivie C., 21, Rexburg, ID

———————————

"My PMDD manifests in both mental and physical symptoms. From the time I got my period at age 12, I've had extreme cramps and heavy bleeding. I'd leak at school through a super maxi pad every class so I'd tie sweatshirts around my waist and have to scrub my clothes when I got home. It was super humiliating. I'd have to take six to eight ibuprofen at a time to deal with cramps, and if I didn't I'd end up on the floor sweating like I had the flu. Sometimes I'd even throw up. This meant I ended up spending a lot of time sick in bathrooms and knew where every restroom was at all times. Birth control helped manage the PMDD and other issues, but as soon as I was done having kids, I had a hysterectomy. That was the best thing I've ever done." —Mandy P., 39, Mendon, UT

https://www.womenshealthmag.com/health/a19972132/premenstrual-dysphoric-disorder/

[fizzyxcustard]

The Right Thing

Masterlist of all fanfics/headcanons/prompts here

Fandom: seaQuest 2032

Pairings: Lucas Wolenczak x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Anxiety, insecurity, age difference (but legal), language (mild)

Word count: 6505 (a longer one)

Summary: You are a Lieutenant aboard the seaQuest DSV vessel, under Captain Oliver Hudson. You have been aboard for two years and in that time have grown very close to Lucas Wolenczak. But not only are you of higher rank, you are ten years his senior (he’s 20). As your feelings deepen and Lucas opens up to you about how he feels, your anxiety rises. Will everyone be judgemental of you for loving a younger man? Others aboard the boat, and shore leave, help you to see how right you and Lucas are for each other.

Comments: If you have any questions regarding this fic and the fandom, by all means message me. I’d love to hear your thoughts and feedback. I will probably try and make graphics for my fics in future if people are interested in reading more of this as I have a full length fic in the works and a prequel one-shot as well. If you would like to be added to my tag list for anything seaQuest related, please leave me a message or comment. The above image shows Captain Oliver Hudson (left) and Ensign Lucas Wolenczak (right) from the show. 

Never before had you felt this awkward, torn and utterly disgusted with yourself. Whenever you sat beside Lucas on the bridge, you could feel his stare now and again as he turned his mesmerising blue eyes from the helm monitor. True, you had always had a very deep friendship with Lucas, who was now an Ensign and seemed to be on duty with you more than any other officer, but the tension was becoming too much. He was two months past twenty and you were the wrong side of thirty. However, most people assumed you to be younger than Lonnie, at twenty-one, but no, the years were against you. In fact, you were the same age as Tim O’Neill.

That day was rather uneventful. Your shift passed by without incident. You laughed with Lucas, Jim Brody and Lonnie in the mess hall. But again, you could sense Lucas’ eyes on you.

Captain Hudson was at a UEO summit meeting, leaving Commander Ford in charge. It was always more laid back and chilled when Jonathan Ford took the helm. No complaints, no shouting, no frustration. Ford had been on seaQuest now since her first tour, along with Lucas and Tim. The rest of the crew, including you, came later. All of you missed Captain Bridger, who had been more than just a Captain, but a friend and a fatherly figure.

“Have you got any plans for shore leave?” Lucas asked you suddenly.

You swallowed hard and turned to face him, pulling your headset from off your head. “Not at the moment, no,” you replied. “You?”

This was all your conversations had become now. Idle chit chat. Whereas when Captain Bridger was still your skipper, you and Lucas would spend time together, laughing at stupid movies, listening to music, taunting Tony Piccolo and simply basking in the things of youth.

Lucas knew there was something very wrong between you both; he could sense it. He didn’t have to be like Wendy Smith, psychic; he could see the cold shoulder that you gave him often. He watched you concentrate on your monitor, staring through the glasses that you always wore when on any computer or when writing. The atmosphere had changed aboard the boat when Captain Bridger left, but surely that wasn’t enough to make you grow cold.

When it was time for shift change, you walked off the bridge with Lucas. Both of you strolled slowly, side by side. “Hey, ummm,” Lucas began, stopping in the corridor. “Can we talk?”

“What about?” you asked.

Lucas sighed at the cold, abrupt edge to your tone. “Us….”

“What do you mean us?”

“No…no. It sounded weird, I know. I’m sorry,” Lucas said, silently grilling himself for sounding stupid. “Things just seem weird. We don’t spend time together like we used to, and I guess I…”

“We’ll talk later. In private,” you told him. Officers were speeding past you, starting and ending the shift rotation. It was too open for such a chat. There was a lot that needed to be said. “I’ll come to your quarters about seven. How’s that?”

“Perfect,” Lucas replied with a smile.

As you parted ways, you felt breath catch in your throat. Your hands shook and tears threatened to spill down your cheeks. You felt something for Lucas and you despised yourself, at just over ten years his senior. You were ashamed of it.

It wasn’t until you ventured from your quarters and down the corridors to Lucas’ shared quarters that you realised just how deep his feelings for you ran. You could distinctly hear his voice as you stopped outside the door, which was slightly ajar. The other person, you assumed, was Tony Piccolo.

“You need to tell her, Lucas,” the second voice came. Sure enough, it was Tony.

You waited outside the door, listening.

“I can’t stop thinking about her, Tony.”

“You’ve said that before with girls.”

“This is different. I barely knew Juliana and Sandra. I’ve spent months with her, and when I am with her, it’s like she’s my age. And she cares. I mean truly cares. Probably because she’s just as alone as I am. But lately she’s grown cold towards me. She won’t speak to me sometimes for almost an entire day. There’s no laughing anymore.”

“It’s pretty hard to laugh around here with Hudson in charge,” Tony replied.

You straightened your back and swallowed hard, bracing yourself and tapped on the door.

A few seconds later and Tony appeared. “I’ll leave you two to it. Don’t mind me,” he said, grinning at you. “Go easy on him.” Tony winked at you. All you could do was grimace and then descend the steps down into the main sleeping area which Lucas and Tony shared.

Lucas looked at you, dressed in jeans, Converse and blouse. How could you be the age you were? You looked twenty-two at most. Everything about you enthralled him; your small and discreet tattoos scattered about your body, your quirky sense of humour, the way you cared for everyone and put them before yourself, the odd looking ornaments you kept on your desk and your taste in rock music. Jim Brody had teased many times how your attitude would be suited with Tony Piccolo. But you needed people who were steady and mature.

Things were silent for a short while as you both stood a couple of feet apart, your hands shoved in pockets. Then you broke the silence and looked at Lucas. “I’m sorry if I’ve offended you. It’s just…Maybe I’m being arrogant, I don’t know. But I sense that you like me…”

“And does that bother you?” Lucas asked, his hands growing more and more sweaty.

“I’m a lot older than you, Lucas,” you reminded him. “You’ve only just become an adult, and I know you forget my age when we spend time together. I’m still young in my appearance and ways. Maybe I haven’t grown up myself yet.”

“I think you’re amazing,” Lucas said softly. “Why does age have to be an issue? We’re good together; I know that you know that.”

His words made something pour in your stomach and you closed your eyes, trying to shake the feelings away. “Lucas, no. Stop it, please,” you whispered.

“You have feelings for me, too. I know you do. I can see it,” he said, approaching you.

You felt his arm wind around your waist, edging you closer towards him.

“Stop it!” you cried out, pushing him away. “No means no!”

You left his quarters only moments later, leaving Lucas behind to slam his hands down onto his desk. Leaving seaQuest was the only way this would end. Lucas would move on and meet a girl his own age. And you would transfer to another boat, hopefully to ace your officer exams and get promoted to Lieutenant Commander.

That evening was long as you drowned in your own thoughts. How could Lucas be what you needed? Would he be prepared to look towards marriage and children within the next two to five years? You would be rushing him, forcing him to put aside all the years of adventure and experience to build a family. Because that was what you wanted. If you met the right man, then you would gladly take time away from your career. And Lucas seemed to think that man was him.

Around nine, a knock came to your door. Your heart leapt and you gasped, expecting it to be Lucas. But it was Tony. You knew why he was here; it didn’t take a lot for anyone to put two and two together to see the reason for his visit.

You let Tony in and sat back down in your seat. “I know why you’ve come to see me, Tony. Lucas doesn’t see the shame I feel every time I look at him.”

“I wanted to see how you’re doing, too. I know Lucas isn’t always the easiest person to say no to. In that way, he’s still a kid.”

You sighed. “We’re both still kids in a lot of ways. I’m going to put in a request for transfer. It’s the only way to solve this.”

“But you can’t,” Tony exclaimed. “Everyone loves you, you know that. It wouldn’t be the same without you. You bring a bit of life to this place.”

Tony’s words brought a smile to your face. “Thanks. This place feels more like a family than I’ve ever had anywhere else outside of my actual family.”

“Look, if you two really do like each other then nothing should stop you. Some people might think the age gap is weird, but who cares? You’re both single adults.”

You sighed again and reached for your mug of coffee which had started growing cold. “I want to think about marriage and settling down. Does Lucas want that? It’s something that needs to be thought about. I can’t be responsible for slowing him down. He’s still young.”

“And so are you. Man, you’re talkin’ as though you’re fifty. Come on!” Tony said.

You barely slept that night, constantly tossing and turning, thinking of Lucas, whom you doubted was asleep either. The air was warm and stale, and your heart raced, reminding you of the anxiety which you kept hidden. Being a Lieutenant in the Navy meant that you had been aboard vessels under attack, had nearly drowned and been shot in the leg. But it was your indecision and shame that caused you to panic uncontrollably.

Tears poured down your cheeks as you flung your legs out from the covers. You flicked on the table lamp and staggered sleepily to your chair. Writing always calmed you. In a world of discipline, uncertainty and instability, you felt so alone. Friendships were strong between you and the main crew, but you had become the glue holding them together. You listened often to Lonnie deny her budding feelings for Jonathan Ford; Tony Piccolo opened his heart to you about his unconventional family; Lucas relied on you for stability and companionship. Now was the time that you needed someone.

After finishing your journal entry, you ventured out into the corridors, finding the gentle hum of seaQuest to be soothing. In the mess hall, you poured yourself a mug of coffee from the vending machine and took a seat in the back corner of the room.

“I thought I was the only one who had insomnia,” a voice came.

“What? Oh, sorry,” you apologised, raising your head out of your hands to see Jim Brody.

“You okay?” Brody asked, approaching you. He was dressed in his uniform, obviously in the middle of night shift.

“I’ll survive,” you chuckled wryly.

“You don’t sound very convincing, you know?”

There was a sincerity in Brody’s eyes that you had always been drawn to. He never minced his words or failed in keeping his promises.

You sighed deeply and looked at your untouched coffee. “How do you handle it when you like someone but have your reservations?”

“What kind of reservations?”

“If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell another soul? I’m so ashamed.”

Brody began to look puzzled and slightly nervous. “Umm, okay.”

“Lucas admitted that he has feelings for me, and I know I feel something for him. But the age gap terrifies me, Jim. And you know how sulky he can be when you say no to him.”

Brody smiled and then sighed. “I know you two have always been close, but maybe if you’re feeling uncomfortable, it’s something you need to deal with yourself. You’re both adults and it’s down to you both. Don’t try and seek everyone else’s approval.”

“That’s what makes me ashamed: everyone else’s judgement.”

The shame and embarrassment of your admission made you look away and run your shaking hands through your short hair. It made you think back to the day you had your long locks cut off, which was the day before your first tour on seaQuest. It was an almost boyish cut, but there was no mistaking your femininity.”

“It’ll work out, I’m sure. Thanks for listening, Jim,” you said, forcing a smile.

You remained in the mess hall for a short while longer, sipping your coffee. The tall, broad figure of Dagwood drifted past the door as he cleaned. He never noticed you, but you watched him for a couple of seconds; his attention to his duty was unbroken and unwavering.

Sleep finally took you away a couple of hours later. In the dark of your quarters, you began counting. Gradually your heart rate slowed.

Suddenly your alarm was blaring! Pain rested behind your eyes and in your temples. No doubt it would remain with you for the rest of the day.

After a shower, you got dressed into your uniform and headed for the mess hall for breakfast. The bright overhead lights assaulted your eyes, making you wince.

Lucas, Tony and Lonnie were all sat together to the left hand side of the room. You suddenly felt sick, insanely sick. Tony looked at you, his eyes widening. Thankfully Lucas had his back to you. It was impossible for you to avoid him now; once you were up for duty, you couldn’t go back to quarters until the next shift rotation. On an almost mile-long submarine, and you couldn’t hide.

You grabbed fruit and a mug of herbal tea. With a huge sigh, you approached the table where your friends were, a spare seat having been left between Tony and Lucas.

Lucas swallowed hard and shifted in his seat as your perfume wafted up his nose, mixed with the smell of your sweet-scented hand cream.  

“Morning,” you said softly. Your eyes met Lucas’ and you could see the sadness swimming in them.

“You look awful,” Lonnie said. “Are you okay?”

“I didn’t sleep much last night,” you said, forcing another smile. “And it’s caught up with me this morning.”

By now and you could feel your pulse racing, thumping in your head and chest. Your hands were shaking, and you knew the day wouldn’t get any easier. Tony kept watching you as the atmosphere remained tense. Lonnie left a few minutes later, uncomfortable by the silence.

Lucas was looking down most of the time and once Tony had also left, he spoke, but didn’t look at you. “Are you okay?”

“Not really,” you admitted, swallowing hard.

Lucas heard the quiver in your voice and finally looked at you. “I’m sorry,” he said simply.

Almost on instinct, you placed your hand on his. “We’ll be okay. Whatever happens, we’ll be okay. Shore leave in two days. We can talk more then.”

That morning seemed to ease some of the tension between Lucas and you. On the bridge, you began to ease back into your laughter. You temporarily forgot your fatigue and the events of the evening previous. Until Lucas held your gaze for a few seconds longer than usual. Normally you looked away, trying to avert his attention elsewhere, but this time you maintained eye contact and smiled.

Tony smirked to himself, recognising that look anywhere.

**

The next two days passed without incident. You felt more at ease now and found yourself making jokes out of mundane things. As it always had, it entertained Tony greatly. The two of you played off each other in the mess hall. A lot of your jokes were at Captain Hudson’s expense. To most people, you outwardly seemed more suited to Tony Piccolo, but those closest to you knew better. The bond you shared with Lucas was unlike any other relationship on the boat. Even though you paled into insignificance when it came to Lucas’ IQ, you could both normally tell what the other was thinking with just one smile.

On the evening before shore leave officially started, Lucas remained in his quarters after shift rotation. There was still a deep pain when he saw you. When you turned your head and smiled, your eyes shining bright, he knew that he would love no other smile. Your attention to detail was unparalleled; that was obvious from the drawings of yours which littered your bedside wall. Your mind didn’t store facts, theories and calculations like Lucas’; it was curious, deep, questioning. You observed deeply. Your genius was in colours, shape, emotion, behaviour. Not cold fact like Lucas.

The Navy had taught you to be disciplined, orderly. No more piles of clothes left at the end of your bed or un-pressed clothing that hoped no one would notice. Why had you even enlisted? Was it your wanderlust? Perhaps. Or maybe it was a way to get away from the ordinary world and embrace your difference.

A sudden knock came to your door, a metallic tap.

“Come in,” you called, placing your copy of The Lord of the Ringsback on your shelf.

Lucas entered, not quite sure why he was even visiting.

“Sorry. I was tidying. You okay?” you asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” he replied.

“You think so?”

Lucas sat down on the edge of your bed and looked up at you as you placed your hands on your hips.

“Please don’t do that. You remind me of my mom,” he chuckled.

Somehow, that comment didn’t amuse you quite as much as it did Lucas. It hit a rather raw nerve that you had hoped you had figured out how to manage.

Lucas got up from his spot and stood before you, being slightly taller. “What?” he asked. You turned your head, shame surging through you again. But just then, the gentlest touch came to your cheek. Lucas’ large blue eyes were full of concern and adoration for you. His hand cupped your face and seconds later, you felt his lips against yours. Soft, unsure, but above all, kind. The kiss of a young man, some ten years your junior, was enough to remind you that there was still kindness in the world, especially amongst the male of the species.

Realisation hit you hard in the stomach and you turned from the kiss. You heard Lucas sigh and stepped back. “Have you thought about this properly? We’re at different stages in our lives. You’re just starting out in your adult years to find out what you’d like…”

Lucas cut you off. “You talk as though I have no idea what I want.”

You looked at him sadly, seeing the frustration in his face. “What experience have you had? Do you know if you want to get married? Have children? These are probably things you haven’t even considered yet. I’ve been forced to push it aside because I’m too different.”

Lucas remained quiet, not quite sure what to say.

“Please think on this more,” you said.

“I have,” he said in desperation, his hands cupping your face again. “I want to be with you, and whatever you want, you can have it.” His voice became a whisper and you kissed again.

You woke a few hours later at just after one in the morning. There was a solid warmth against your back and an arm draped over you. The two of you had fallen asleep after an evening of chatter and cuddles under the blanket.

In all the time that you had known Lucas, which was two years, you had never seen him smile so much as he had done that evening. True, since enlisting in the Navy, Lucas had had to grow up somewhat and that change in him had been amazing, going from a boy to a man. A seriousness had settled in him, overriding the boyishness.

You slid out of bed and positioned the blanket back over Lucas. He rolled over and mumbled in his sleep. Something about this still felt wrong. It made you concerned that everyone would see it as predatory. Everything that felt wrong was pushing you to begin writing up that transfer request. Crew from the infamous seaQuest were always welcomed aboard other UEO vessels. The sub still remained the pinnacle of the fleet, highly sought after by new officers for their first tour. A reserve list with thousands of names on had been written up, and if you left, then you’d open a door to someone more deserving of their placement. Allowing Lucas to get close to you had been an abuse of your authority.

“You’re making a habit of this, ain’t you?” Brody laughed, finding you in the mess hall again at an ungodly hour for the second time that week.

“Maybe I am,” you chuckled. “My sleep routine is shot to shit.”

“Did you get things sorted with Lucas?”

“I don’t know,” you groaned. “It still feels wrong. I’m seriously considering putting in a transfer. But I know that Hudson will only take a valid reason before signing off my request.”

“Are you absolutely sure about this?” Brody leaned closer to you across the table.

“I can’t stay, Jim. Things are getting too deep between me and Lucas, and I know that he’s always going to expect something that I can’t give him.”

“I can’t force you to go against what you think is right, but you know we’d all miss you. None of us would want to see you go.”

“I know that, and I thank you so much. You’ve all supported me and I absolutely love working on this boat.”

“Yeah, it is a great place.”

Suddenly, you stopped rigid, eyes wide as Lucas wondered into the room. Brody turned after seeing your expression, and then wished you both a goodnight.

“You okay?” Lucas asked, replacing Brody in the seat opposite you.

“Got a lot on my mind,” you told him.

Lucas reached out and curled his hand around yours. “What’s up? Talk to me.”

Tears filled your eyes and fell down your cheeks. “I can’t do this…I’m sorry…”

“What have I done?” he whispered.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing,” you sobbed. Your gripped his hand tighter until he came and sat at your side. “You need someone your own age. I’m taking advantage of you with my authority and rank.”

“How are you taking advantage of me?”

“I’m ten years older than you and I’m a Lieutenant.”

“And why should that matter?”

“I…” words were lost.

“We’re both legal age and consenting adults. So does it really matter?” You remained quiet. Then you heard the gentle whisper of your name. “Does it really matter?” he asked again.

“I was considering putting in a transfer,” you said, the words tumbling from your mouth like an avalanche.

“No….no,” Lucas begged, drawing his hand up your face. “Don’t leave me.”

You couldn’t help but kiss his hand and lean into his touch.

“Captain Bridger left. I don’t know if I could handle you leaving, too.” Lucas’ eyes were wide and full to the brim of tears. Everyone in Lucas’ life had left him or cared little, never putting him as their priority.

And you knew then that no matter the outcome of your relationship status, you couldn’t leave. Lucas needed an open ear, heart and mind to express himself to. He’d found that in you.

As everyone prepared their belongings in order to enjoy three days of shore leave, you sat in your quarters with music playing away on your com-link. There was a positive buzz outside your door and foot traffic was loud. It was always the same whenever shore leave was approaching.

A knock came to your door.

Tony appeared. “Mornin’!” he chirped happily. “All ready to go?”

“Yes, I think so,” you replied.

“Lucas told me about your conversation over the transfer. I’m glad you told him you’d thought about it. Are you still considering it?”

You sighed and looked towards Tony. “No, I’ve decided not to leave. Whatever happens, I know my place is here. Lucas has had enough people walk out on him. He needs at least one person to stay.”

“Make sure you’re stayin’ for the right reasons.”

“I thought you wanted me to stay,” you replied with a smile.

“I do. We all do. But you’ve got to want to stay for yourself.”

“Everyone here feels like the friends I never had and the family I lost touch with. Of course I don’t want to leave.”

As everyone began gathering in the corridors to head to the docking bays, you stood between Lucas and Brody, dressed in your shore uniform. As usual, Tony was telling jokes to keep everyone amused.

“Do you ever pause for breath?” you asked, laughing.

“Only when I’m sleepin’, and even then I still talk,” Tony countered.

“He’s right there,” Lucas mumbled.

Shore leave began with all of you checking into a local hotel in downtown just from the seaQuest berth. As usual, the UEO paid for all expenses incurred on shore leave.

Lucas looked on a little suspiciously when you announced that you were next door to Brody and Lonnie, but he was on the floor below. He merely smiled at you, swept a glance to Brody and Lonnie, then disappeared to his own room.

In your room, you placed your bag down on the bed and began inspecting the cleanliness of the place.

You made sure you had a bath before doing anything else. The heat relaxed you and the sweet scent of lavender and jasmine wrapped around you. For a short while and you forgot all the trials in life, all the things that kept you up at night and made you over think. Suddenly, your phone began to chime. With a groan of irritation, you lifted yourself out of the tub, wound a thick towel around yourself and picked up the ringing nuisance from your bed.

“Are you alright? You took a while to answer,” Lucas’ questioning voice came.

“I’m fine. I was taking a bath.”

“Oh, okay. Do you mind if I come and see you?”

“Give me ten minutes to get dressed. I’m in room 712.”

“Okay. Bye.”

He seemed put out somehow. You sensed disappointment in his voice. Did he think you were avoiding him purely because you took time to answer his call? There was definitely a lot that needed to be ironed out between you both.

Lucas came to your room shortly afterwards, holding two paper cups of coffee, probably from the vending machine on his floor.

You thanked him for the coffee and then sat opposite him on your bed. You pulled your leg under yourself and watched him lower his head in that way he always did when he was unsure. “If this is how things are going to be between us now, then I wish they would just go back to how they were,” he said. His voice as pained by the realisation of all the tension he’d placed on your once deep friendship. For a young man who was so intelligent, far beyond that of most people, he held a lot of insecurity and uncertainty. He wore his heart on his sleeve and had never been able to hide his true emotions. There was an honesty and innocence that drew you in. A purity of heart. But also a sadness. If everyone else had abandoned him, how could you be so selfish and do the same thing?

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

Lucas was staring blankly into his coffee. “This. All of it.” He then looked up at you. “The last few days have been hell. I haven’t known what to say or do. And even if you don’t feel anything for me, can we just go back to the way things were?”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I’ve driven a gap between us out of my own fear. Maybe I felt that backing away would help. Being around each other constantly only makes the feelings deepen. I’ve missed you and I do have feelings for you. A lot of them. I was scared of everyone judging me because I’m older and abusing my authority. I have to be careful, Lucas. Especially now that Captain Bridger is gone. He didn’t push Naval code like Hudson does.”

“I know that,” Lucas said, edging in a little closer towards you. That beautiful scent. It made his deeper instinct ride; butterflies were flapping with ferocity in his gut. “You worry too much about what other people think of you.”

“We’re not civilians, Lucas,” you reminded him.

“What would you have done with your life if you never enlisted?”

You took a sip of your coffee and smiled. “As a kid, I always wanted to be a vet, so I’d have worked with animals more than likely.”

“What made you enlist? You’ve never had that typical Navy way about you.”

“I finished university with a useless degree in English and I saw advertisements at a job fayre. I wanted something new and interesting. I almost failed my initial medical though.”

“Why?”

“I was taking medication for panic attacks. I stopped taking it a week before my examination and never declared it. Who wants a Naval officer who’s always anxious?”

“I don’t believe that at all. You’re probably the most chilled of anyone when we have an emergency.”

You chuckled. “I’ve learned to control it. And I find when I’m leading others, I’m more at ease. I can be calm for other people but not myself.”

That evening, a large group of you decided to head for a sit down meal at a local restaurant. Piano music was playing overhead and the lighting was dimmed, adding to a relaxing atmosphere. The waiter, a hook-nosed Italian man in overly tightly trousers, guided you over to a large, round table in the back corner.

You nudged Brody and pointed to the waiter. “It’s a wonder he doesn’t pop a nut.”

Lonnie and Tony immediately smiled, enjoying the fact that your usual self was coming back to the surface.

The whole meal was laid back, fun and light-hearted. You couldn’t help but notice the subtle glances that were exchanged between Lonnie and Jonathan Ford. Tim O’Neill seemed a little irritated by it, rolling his eyes a couple of times. When you saw Tim be so quiet, it reminded you of Miguel Ortiz, whom you had had a slight crush on when you first came aboard seaQuest. He and Tim had been good friends, and since Miguel’s passing in combat, Tim seemed a little lost at times.

By the time that the meal was over, most of the group had disappeared into the bar. There was only you, Lonnie and Jonathan Ford left at the table, which made you feel like a spare part. You excused yourself and walked out the front door of the restaurant. Chatter and laughter filled the air outside on the veranda. Dozens of people were drinking, eating and enjoying the night time air.

You began to walk, crossing the street and heading onto the empty beach. The chill in the air, the bright, full moon and the sound of crashing waves soothed you. In a hectic world where you were constantly fighting for control, you were now centred. Everything was simple. No worry. No orders. Just the stars, sand and sea.

Lucas looked for you, only to spot you standing on the beach. He could tell you from across the street. Proud shoulders, hands in pockets, bright coloured blouse, bandana in hair. That could only be you.

“You okay?” he asked.

You turned and smiled, then stepped back towards him. You curled your arm through his and put your head on his shoulder. The two of you remained quiet for a few minutes, enjoying each other’s company. To Lucas’ surprise, you took his hand and held it tight.

Tony and Brody looked on from the front of the restaurant.

“If the age gap is their only concern then they’ve got more going for them than most couples,” Brody said.

“He’s definitely lucky to have her.”

By the time you made it back to the bar in the restaurant, you and Lucas were hand in hand. Tony grinned at you both and then cheered, drawing attention from the rest of the crew who were all sat in a booth together.

Laughter ensued almost immediately as all the men, apart from Lucas, began competing in a drinking game.

“One, two, three,” Tony counted, banging his free hand on the table top. All of the participants of the game tossed shots down their throats, then proceeded to continue on with a further two, downing them as quickly as possibly without vomiting. Tim O’Neill gagged, almost propelling his meal from his gut. Jim Brody fell into a coughing fit. Jonathan Ford blinked hard, pushing vodka-induced tears away. Tony merely laughed, playing a drum beat on the table.

You could sense Lucas’ eyes on you as you sat beside each other. His arm was stretched across the back of the seat behind you. His nerves were finally beginning to settle a little, reminding himself again and again that it was still you. You were the same person he had known now for almost two years and had had a bad crush on the whole time. There were so many times that he had imagined how you would feel under his fingertips, the way your lips would taste against his, the sound of your hitched breath as you kissed with passion. And you did not disappoint. All of his fantasies had fallen short of the beauty of reality.

Around midnight and the men of the group were considerably less sober than when they’d arrived for dinner just over four hours earlier. Tony was now daring Brody to go swimming in the sea naked, which the Lieutenant was actually considering to do. Ford and O’Neill were arm wrestling, leaving you to chat with Lucas and Lonnie. A bottle of expensive red wine was on the table. Lonnie sipped from her glass now and again, encouraging you to have a drink, but you never drank alcohol as it only made your anxiety worse.

“I’m going to retire to bed, I think,” you announced.

“I’ll walk you back,” Lucas proposed.

Together, you and Lucas began your short walk back to the hotel. You strolled along comfortably hand in hand. People walked past you, glancing at you for only a brief second before continuing on. No one stared like you thought they would. They were all unawares of the age gap between you both that you always thought was noticeable.

**

You woke the next morning to bright sunlight shining through the open curtains. Lucas was lying with his back to you. You slipped out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom.

Lucas heard the toilet flush and looked up at the ceiling, smiling. Would you regret the night previously? He hoped so much that you wouldn’t.

“Good morning,” you said with a smile, exiting the bathroom in your pyjamas.

“Morning,” Lucas replied, groggy with sleep and happiness.

You slipped back into bed and rolled over to him, kissing his lips. He seemed to gain more confidence the more that you kissed. The tension was seeping out of your actions the more that you acted on your feelings. Fear was losing its grip on you.

Both of you remained in bed for a short while, until you announced that you were getting dressed to head downstairs for breakfast.

“I’m tired,” Lucas groaned.

“Get up, Ensign. That’s an order,” you chuckled.

“Now who’s abusing their authority, Lieutenant?”

“Well if you’re expecting any kind of repeat of last night then you’re going to have to be well-behaved now, aren’t you?”

“You never seemed the type to subject me to blackmail.”

“I’m going to head down,” you said, putting the conversation back on a serious note. “Do you want me to bring you anything back up?”

Lucas just smiled. “I’ll come down with you.”

When you got downstairs, Lonnie and Commander Ford were already sat at a table for two. You and Lucas made yourself comfortable just across from them.

“How’s the head, Commander?” you chuckled.

“Strangely it’s okay. For now. No quick and sudden movements and I should be fine,” he replied with a smile.

You poured yourself a mug of English tea and began to eat your breakfast which had been served.

Tim O’Neill came half staggering into the large dining area and plopped down on a seat next to Lucas. “Remind me to never drink again,” he groaned.

Lucas looked up at you ever now and again, his blue eyes twinkling with something you hadn’t seen before. Contentment maybe? Or perhaps happiness? Whatever it was, you knew he needed both, and you hoped that you had given that to him.

The rest of that day was fairly eventful, with a visit to the local art museum with Lucas, Lonnie and Commander Ford.

Jonathan Ford couldn’t deny that he was shocked by the sudden and dramatic change in yours and Lucas’ relationship dynamic. His Navy instinct told him that something needed to be said, a warning to you both of potential consequences. But the kind side of him won out. Why try and damage that haze of happiness that was suspended around you both? Once Captain Hudson returned to the seaQuest, a relationship was something that you and Lucas would have to either end or keep secret. No way would Hudson advocate romance on his boat.

At the beach during the afternoon, Tony sat beside Lucas whilst you remained with Lonnie, enjoying an ice cream cone.

“So? What happened last night? Brody told me that you stayed in her room,” Tony enquired.

“Yeah, I stayed with her. What happened is none of your business,” Lucas replied.

“Lucas, come on! You gotta tell me. I didn’t arm you with rubber for nothin’!”

Lucas merely smirked. “Lets just say that it was put to good use.”

“Way to go, my boy!” Tony exclaimed.

“Tony, shut up. She’s only over there,” Lucas growled.

“So, I need details. How was it? Was she good?”

“None of your business,” Lucas hissed and moved away. He approached you and Lonnie, and as he looked at you, he knew there was only one word that could have described the night previously: incredible. No way was he about to disrespect you and discuss your private life with others.

“Can I borrow you for a few minutes?” he asked you.

“Yeah, sure,” you replied, and got up from the warm sand. “Everything okay?”

You both moved away from the rest of the group. “Yeah. I just wanted to be alone with you for a while.”

The two of you took a slow walk down to the water’s edge, the tide returning from its long descent out towards the horizon. Hand in hand, you were silent for a few minutes. The sun’s rays were warm against your back, but a gentle breeze refreshed the air, biting through the humidity. You felt that inner calm come flooding to the surface again. Lucas’ arm wound around your waist and you prayed in silence that this was the right thing for both of you.

[magnetictapedatastorage]

I’ve started keeping a list of questions, remnants of a past life that I now need a beat or two to remember, if I can remember at all: What time do parties end? How tall is my boss? What does a bar smell like? Are babies heavy? Does my dentist have a mustache? On what street was the good sandwich place near work, the one that toasted its bread? How much does a movie popcorn cost? What do people talk about when they don’t have a global disaster to talk about all the time? You have to wear high heels the whole night? It’s more baffling than distressing, most of the time.

Full text of the (excellent) article is under the cut. (The Atlantic, March 8th, 2021)

I first became aware that I was losing my mind in late December. It was a Friday night, the start of my 40-somethingth pandemic weekend: Hours and hours with no work to distract me, and outside temperatures prohibitive of anything other than staying in. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how to fill the time. “What did I used to … do on weekends?” I asked my boyfriend, like a soap-opera amnesiac. He couldn’t really remember either.

Since then, I can’t stop noticing all the things I’m forgetting. Sometimes I grasp at a word or a name. Sometimes I walk into the kitchen and find myself bewildered as to why I am there. (At one point during the writing of this article, I absentmindedly cleaned my glasses with nail-polish remover.) Other times, the forgetting feels like someone is taking a chisel to the bedrock of my brain, prying everything loose. I’ve started keeping a list of questions, remnants of a past life that I now need a beat or two to remember, if I can remember at all: What time do parties end? How tall is my boss? What does a bar smell like? Are babies heavy? Does my dentist have a mustache? On what street was the good sandwich place near work, the one that toasted its bread? How much does a movie popcorn cost? What do people talk about when they don’t have a global disaster to talk about all the time? You have to wear high heels the whole night? It’s more baffling than distressing, most of the time.

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Everywhere I turn, the fog of forgetting has crept in. A friend of mine recently confessed that the morning routine he’d comfortably maintained for a decade—wake up before 7, shower, dress, get on the subway—now feels unimaginable on a literal level: He cannot put himself back there. Another has forgotten how to tie a tie. A co-worker isn’t sure her toddler remembers what it’s like to go shopping in a store. The comedian Kylie Brakeman made a joke video of herself attempting to recall pre-pandemic life, the mania flashing across her face: “You know what I miss, is, like, those night restaurants that served alcohol. What were those called?” she asks. “And there were those, like, big men outside who would check your credit card to make sure you were 41?”

Read: Sedentary pandemic life is bad for our happiness

Jen George, a community-college teacher from Cape Elizabeth, Maine, told me she is losing her train of thought in the middle of a sentence more and more often. Meanwhile, her third grader, who is attending in-person school, keeps leaving his books, papers, and lunch at home. Inny Ekeolu, a 19-year-old student from Ireland, says she has found herself forgetting how to do things she used to do on a regular basis: swiping her bus pass, paying for groceries. Recently she came across a photo of a close friend she hadn’t seen since lockdown and found that she couldn’t recognize her. “It wasn’t like I had forgotten her existence,” she told me. “But if I had bypassed her on the street, I wouldn’t have said hi.” Rachel Kowert, a research psychologist in Ottawa, used to have a standing Friday-night dinner with her neighbors—and went completely blank when one of them recently mentioned it. “It was really shocking,” Kowert told me. “This was something I really loved, and had done for a long time, and I had totally forgotten.”

This is the fog of late pandemic, and it is brutal. In the spring, we joked about the Before Times, but they were still within reach, easily accessible in our shorter-term memories. In the summer and fall, with restrictions loosening and temperatures rising, we were able to replicate some of what life used to be like, at least in an adulterated form: outdoor drinks, a day at the beach. But now, in the cold, dark, featureless middle of our pandemic winter, we can neither remember what life was like before nor imagine what it’ll be like after.

To some degree, this is a natural adaptation. The sunniest optimist would point out that all this forgetting is evidence of the resilience of our species. Humans forget a great deal of what happens to us, and we tend to do it pretty quickly—after the first 24 hours or so. “Our brains are very good at learning different things and forgetting the things that are not a priority,” Tina Franklin, a neuroscientist at Georgia Tech, told me. As the pandemic has taught us new habits and made old ones obsolete, our brains have essentially put actions like taking the bus and going to restaurants in deep storage, and placed social distancing and coughing into our elbows near the front of the closet. When our habits change back, presumably so will our recall.

That’s the good news. The pandemic is still too young to have yielded rigorous, peer-reviewed studies about its effects on cognitive function. But the brain scientists I spoke with told me they can extrapolate based on earlier work about trauma, boredom, stress, and inactivity, all of which do a host of very bad things to a mammal’s brain.

“We’re all walking around with some mild cognitive impairment,” said Mike Yassa, a neuroscientist at UC Irvine. “Based on everything we know about the brain, two of the things that are really good for it are physical activity and novelty. A thing that’s very bad for it is chronic and perpetual stress.” Living through a pandemic—even for those who are doing so in relative comfort—“is exposing people to microdoses of unpredictable stress all the time,” said Franklin, whose research has shown that stress changes the brain regions that control executive function, learning, and memory.

That stress doesn’t necessarily feel like a panic attack or a bender or a sleepless night, though of course it can. Sometimes it feels like nothing at all. “It’s like a heaviness, like you’re waking up to more of the same, and it’s never going to change,” George told me, when I asked what her pandemic anxiety felt like. “Like wading through something thicker than water. Maybe a tar pit.” She misses the sound of voices.

Prolonged boredom is, somewhat paradoxically, hugely stressful, Franklin said. Our brains hate it. “What’s very clear in the literature is that environmental enrichment—being outside of your home, bumping into people, commuting, all of these changes that we are collectively being deprived of—is very associated with synaptic plasticity,” the brain’s inherent ability to generate new connections and learn new things, she said. In the 1960s, the neuroscientist Marian Diamond conducted a series of experiments on rats in an attempt to understand how environment affects cognitive function. Time after time, the rats raised in “enriched” cages—ones with toys and playmates—performed better at mazes.

Ultimately, said Natasha Rajah, a psychology professor at McGill University, in Montreal, our winter of forgetting may be attributable to any number of overlapping factors. “There’s just so much going on: It could be the stress, it could be the grief, it could be the boredom, it could be depression,” she said. “It sounds pretty grim, doesn’t it?”

The share of Americans reporting symptoms of anxiety disorder, depressive disorder, or both roughly quadrupled from June 2019 to December 2020, according to a Census Bureau study released late last year. What’s more, we simply don’t know the long-term effects of collective, sustained grief. Longitudinal studies of survivors of Chernobyl, 9/11, and Hurricane Katrina show elevated rates of mental-health problems, in some cases lasting for more than a decade.

I have a job that allows me to work from home, an immune system and a set of neurotransmitters that tend to function pretty well, a support network, a savings account, decent Wi-Fi, plenty of hand sanitizer. I have experienced the pandemic from a position of obscene privilege, and on any given day I’d rank my mental health somewhere north of “fine.” And yet I feel like I have spent the past year being pushed through a pasta extruder. I wake up groggy and spend every day moving from the couch to the dining-room table to the bed and back. At some point night falls, and at some point after that I close work-related browser windows and open leisure-related ones. I miss my little rat friends, but I am usually too tired to call them.

Read: The most likely timeline for life to return to normal

Sometimes I imagine myself as a Sim, a diamond-shaped cursor hovering above my head as I go about my day. Tasks appear, and I do them. Mealtimes come, and I eat. Needs arise, and I meet them. I have a finite suite of moods, a limited number of possible activities, a set of strings being pulled from far offscreen. Everything is two-dimensional, fake, uncanny. My world is as big as my apartment, which is not very big at all.

“We’re trapped in our dollhouses,” said Kowert, the psychologist from Ottawa, who studies video games. “It’s just about surviving, not thriving. No one is working at their highest capacity.” She has played The Sims on and off for years, but she always gives up after a while—it’s too repetitive.

Earlier versions of The Sims had an autonomous memory function, according to Marina DelGreco, a staff writer for Game Rant. But in The Sims 3, the system was buggy; it bloated file sizes and caused players’ saved progress to delete. So The Sims 4, released in 2014, does not automatically create memories. PC users can manually enter them, and Sims can temporarily feel feelings: happy, tense, flirty. But for the most part, a Sim is a hollow vessel, more like a machine than a living thing.

The game itself doesn’t have a term for this, but the internet does: “smooth brain,” or sometimes “head empty,” which I first started noticing sometime last summer. Today, the TikTok user @smoothbrainb1tch has nearly 100,000 followers, and stoners on Twitter are marveling at the fact that their “silky smooth brain” was once capable of calculus.

This is, to be clear, meant to be an aspirational state. It’s the step after galaxy brain, because the only thing better than being a genius in a pandemic is being intellectually unencumbered by mass grief. People are celebrating “smooth brain Saturday” and chasing the ideal summer vibe: “smooth skin, smooth brain.” One frequently reposted meme shows a photograph of a glossy, raw chicken breast, with the caption “Cant think=no sad .” This is juxtaposed against a biology-textbook picture of a healthy brain, which is wrinkled, oddly translucent, and the color of canned tuna. The choice seems obvious.

Some Saturday not too long from now, I will go to a party or a bar or even a wedding. Maybe I’ll hold a baby, and maybe it will be heavy. Inevitably, I will kick my shoes off at some point. I won’t have to wonder about what I do on weekends, because I’ll be doing it. I’ll kiss my friends and try their drinks and marvel at how everyone is still the same, but a little different, after the year we all had. My brain won’t be smooth anymore, but being wrinkly won’t feel so bad. My synapses will be made plastic by the complicated, strange, utterly novel experience of being alive again, human again. I can’t wait.

ELLEN CUSHING

is the special-projects editor at The Atlantic.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #445

“you’ve got a lot of nerve, but not a lot of spine”

Have you ever created a fake internet persona for yourself? No. Do you enjoy going to weddings or showers? What is it that you like or dislike about them? Not... really. They're triggering for me. And I don't use "trigger" lightly. They legitimately, deeply affect me. It's part of the reason I've lost a lot of interest in being a wedding photographer. Is there a person in your life whom you support by showing up for the sports games, concerts, or other performances? This question, uh... sucks. Because I'm that awful aunt that doesn't go to her nephew's t-ball games while everyone else does. It's the heat that does it, but still... it shouldn't. How many video games do you have? A lot. We have a big case of them. Why did you take the last pill you took? My heartburn is especially awful today. Has a girl ever stayed up with you all night? A guy? A girl, uhhh... maybe? Idk. A guy, yeah. Do you think guys look good with makeup? Hell yeah. How long would you wait to become sexually active with someone you’re dating? That would just depend on how quickly we deeply bond in a relationship. I wouldn't go that far before I knew I was in love with them, though, so it definitely wouldn't be quick. Do you enjoy a good debate or prefer keeping the peace? klasd;jkla;jfklwdj I HATE confrontation, so I strongly prefer to keep that peace. Debates rarely ever stay civil, anyway. Can you ever see yourself and your ex back together? One, easily. The other... I wish. But it won't ever happen because I fucked that relationship up way too much. Are you thinking about anything that’s upsetting right now? Yeah. My PTSD is being really bothersome. Would you ever want to ride in a canoe? Yeah, sounds fun and peaceful. So long as I'm not rowing, ha ha. When did you last see an attractive member of your preferred sex? Did you speak to them? Do you think you’ll see them again? Two days ago. Yeah, 'cuz he was my personal trainer. I don't plan on quitting the gym, so I'll probably see him around there now and again. Have you ever tasted baby food? How about pet food? Save for when I was a baby, obviously, no. I once tried a guinea pig yogurt treat, ha ha. How many times have you had your heart broken? Once romantically, twice overall. Actually, no, four. Quite a jump, I know, but Teddy and Jason's mom both dying was nothing short of heartbreaking. Think of the person you fell hardest for. How many people has he/she been in love with, besides you? One, before me. I don't know about since. Find 5 people on your Facebook friends list, whose names begin with K. Who are these people, and how did you meet them? Katherine: an online friend. We met on YouTube. Kim: she's my stepmom. I met her through my dad, obviously. Kelly: a high school friend. We met in art class. Katelynn: was Jason's old friend's former girlfriend. We met through said friend when we all hung out together. Kieley: she's the wife of who I call my "big bro," a close gaming friend. We met through Sam, the aforementioned friend. Sometimes do you wish you lived in a fantasy world? Yeah, who doesn't? What would you say if the ex who hurt you the most told you they hated you? "I don't blame you" or something to that effect. Have any of your friends dated an ex/previous crush of yours? I don't think it's accurate to call her my "friend," but Jason's first girlfriend and I are friends on Facebook. I'd love to get to know her better and actually be *real* friends. One word to describe the last person you kissed? Strong. Has anyone ever cheated on their boyfriend/girlfriend with you? You could say that. Does your hair have layers? No, not anymore. Who was the last person you cried in front of? My mom. Have you done something recently that helped someone else, in any way? I don't know. Which Disney princess do you think is the most beautiful? Why? Probably Jasmine. I just think she's really pretty. If you’ve had a bad experience in a past relationship, did you find that you were scared to get into another relationship, in case the same thing happened again? I'm terrified to this day to start new romantic relationships. I had so many panic attacks about losing Sara when we first started dating. If you were going to buy a present for the person you love/like, what would you generally choose? Absolutely something Frieza-related. If you met the celebrity that you most admire, what would be the first thing you’d say to him/her? Probably just "oh my god, thank you" and start crying lmao. Is there something you generally always ask for help with? I'm sure there's something, yeah. When was the last time you cried? Today. Do you like sausage? Yep. Ever held a newborn animal? Kittens, yes. Do you know anyone with a dual citizenship? Uhhhh maybe? Have you been called a bad influence? Yeah. Like she had ANY room to talk. Do you get stage fright? Yes. Would you be excited or annoyed if your favorite book was being made into a movie? Both of my favorite books are also movies, and they're wonderful. Do you need structure in your life or do you prefer to just go with the flow? I require structure, for sure. Without it, my anxiety goes rampant. Change is something I do not cope with well. Post a picture of you from one year ago. No. Have you ever written a fan letter? If so, who was it to and did you receive a response? No. What trait(s) would you not want your children to inherit from you? My mental illnesses, primarily depression. I have A LOT of reasons for not wanting kids, and my poor genetic makeup is even one of them. I don't want to pass on all the shit I deal with. What is the worst place you’ve woken up? Waking up in a shitty bed at the ER while waiting to be transferred was never one of my favorite things... Are you the type of person who has to study to make good grades or does it just come naturally to you? Aha... I was lucky in that once I heard something in school, it had a tendency to stick. I didn't need to study very much at all - usually. When on YouTube, what types of videos do you mainly watch? Mostly let's plays. What was the last conversation you had with someone about? Sara and I were kinda fangirling over how cute Maieykio and Rumours are, ha ha. Do you have any currency that’s not your native country’s? No. Can you describe your father in one word? Complex. Do you still watch movies intended for children? Yeah. Hell, I probably tend to prefer them. Who is your favorite stand-up comedian? That's living, probably Gabriel Iglesias. What is your strangest phobia? Probably whale sharks. Which part of your state/province do you live in [upper,lower,middle]? I live on the eastern side. Who in your life can you count on the most? My mama. Would you rather eat your pizza cold or hot? It depends on what I'm up for. Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? No, I'm not a fan. Last thing you drank? Pink lemonade. Have you ever thought you were going to marry someone? Sure did. The belief was clearly mutual. But I ruined that. Who are your favorite people to talk to when you’re down? Sara or my mom. Have you ever thought you liked someone, and then found out that you really didn’t? See: Girt. Describe the last dream you had that you can remember. It was actually... really fucked up, so the squeamish beware. I don't remember the details, just the shocking part: a little bird flew into me, and I thought it was a bug, so I crushed it in my hand. Heard and felt the bones break and it was just... ugh. It's nauseating to recall. I'm sick and tired of dreaming of only awful things. Any current family issues? Not any big ones that include everyone. The only "issue" that really exists in my family is how my mom feels like Ashley (my older sister) avoids her, and therefore Mom doesn't see the kids nearly as much as she wants. She feels very overlooked. Whose room of the opposite sex were you in last? When? Uhhh, probably my nephew's? Sometime when I visited my sister's house, idk. The last movie you watched with a friend? Elf, I think. Have you ever played with fire? Uh no, because I'm not keen on being burned. What industry do you want to be a part of when you’re older? Art, in some form. Who do you usually text the most? Since Sara and I started chatting mainly on Discord, definitely my mom. Have you ever been surprised with breakfast in bed? No. Llamas or sheep? Sheep. Have you ever seen anyone famous in the street? No. When do you plan on moving out? Whenever I'm in a long-term, stable, happy, and healthy relationship. I really don't at all think it would be healthy for me to live on my own. What’re you going to be for Halloween? I'd actually love to dress up this year seeing as I've really been feeling the holidays, but the money to like... make a recognizable costume isn't really with us. So I'll ust answer as if I had it, in which case it would be a handmaid from The Handmaid's Tale, but with fake blood splattered over my stomach region. Will you buy a cake for your next birthday? We always do for b-days. Do you like brownies? BITCH I love brownies. Have you ever dressed up as a witch on Halloween? Yeah, as a kiddo. Have you ever been to a masquerade? No. Do any girls like the last guy you kissed? Maybe, I don't know. Do you have a second mom? I have a stepmom, if that's what you mean. When a bee is coming close to you, do you stand still or run away? Ngl, I gtfo. Do you ever hang out with someone of the opposite sex? I haven't hung out with Girt in around a year. Really need to change that. When you go out to eat, what sides do your order with your food? Fries. What is your winter coat like? ... I actually don't know if I have one? Did you do well at fitness testing in grade school? I did fine. Are art museums interesting or boring to you? Interesting. Inspiring, even. Do you know how to use an ATM? ... No. :x How about write a check? uhhhhhhhhhhh... Are you Italian? Not to my knowledge, no. We don't know my dad's heritage. When was the last time you talked to one of your siblings? I commented on one of my sister's Facebook posts earlier. Are you interested in photography at all? Very much so. Do you own an acoustic guitar? I don't believe so? Ashley had one when she was waaaay younger, but I haven't seen it in forever. I think Dad might have it. Can you talk to your parents about anything without them judging or bickering at you? Because you said "bickering," no. Mom knows how to pick fights on a lot of things... Who was the last person you took pictures with? My sister when she came to visit a few months ago. What is the wallpaper on your best friend's cell phone? I'd be willing to bet it's either her and Jem or Frieza. Do you melt butter to put on your popcorn? No. We get the movie theater butter kind. Do you consider flirting cheating? Sure do. Have you ever been on probation? No. What is normally on your Christmas list (if you celebrate it)? A tattoo and meerkat stuff. Do you like KoRn? They're one of my favorites! When you were little, did you pick up worms? Do you pick worms up now? Ha, I did. I would sometimes dig just to look for them, especially if I knew Dad was going to take me fishing later that day. I don't like touching worms nowadays. Would you ever go see a stand-up comedian? Yeah, I think it would be fun. Do you have any best friends that you only know online? BEST friends, not current ones, anyway. I've met my current best friend. Have you ever gotten into a physical fight? Nope. Do you have a problem with swearing? No. What do you do when you see a spider? My reactions vary. If it's a tiny little thing, I tend to ignore it. In most cases, admittedly, I get my mom to come kill it. :x I really, really want to get on a level where I can just cup the spider and take it outside. I want a few types of spiders one day (tarantulas, jumping, and velvet), after all, so I really should get used to interacting with them. I know in my gut they're nowhere near as dangerous and scary as your head makes them seem, but it's so instilled in you (most "you"s, anyway) from a young age to stay away from spiders, so it's fighting almost like instinct. Do you have big dreams? Meh... When is your father’s birthday? Sometime in April. The 16th, I think? Maybe. Are you interested in anime? Yeah. They can have some great stories. Do you eat three meals a day? Most days. Are you part German? German and Irish make up most of my heritage, yes. Do you dream of being a porn star? Uh, I can confidently say no. Have you ever been on a farm? I have. What is your favorite type of muffin? Blueberry, I think. I like the moisture it adds to the muffin. What is the last type of salad that you ate? Just your normal one with iceberg lettuce and ranch. What do you usually put on your waffles? A layer of peanut butter and then some syrup. You NEED to try it. Would you rather have a cottage on the beach or in a forest? A forest! Name all the people that you talked to today. Online, through texts and in person. Mom and Misty are all, I think. Do you know a schizophrenic person? My half-sister. Did you ever watch Sailor Moon? If so, who is your favorite? I did. I don't think I had a favorite character. Name the last 3 people you kissed and list one nice thing about each one. Sara: she's very loyal. Girt: he's funny as hell. Tyler: he, uh, cares a lot, I guess? When was the last time you felt EXTREMELY depressed? Why is that? Yesterday, actually. I was passively suicidal just over... a lot of things. Would you ever dye your hair pink? I want pastel pink hair anyway.