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bluemoonbeam15 · 3 years ago

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Hey, so I saw this video and it got me thinking. What if the reason Hopper bullies the ants for food so much is because he molted into a locust during a time of famine? Maybe his family didn’t have anything to eat and he had to do anything he could to stay alive? What if because of this change he’s always hungry, and that causes a lot of his outbursts? That poor bug. If Flick knew maybe he would’ve shown him more mercy or reached out.

https://youtu.be/uURqcI08IC4

^That’s the vid.

This is actually the first time I've been introduced to the differences between a locust and a grasshopper. For a long while, I assumed they were two different species in the same genus or family.

After watching the video and doing more research, it turns out the only defining difference between them is their psychological state. A grasshopper is only defined as a locust when it is surrounded by others of its kind and it essentially "panics" and grows manic and savage. That's why locusts are known for wreaking havoc on crops, it's like a manic episode for them.

This manic state happens when the sensory glands on the grasshopper's hind legs are rubbed constantly over a period of 4 hours. So, when they are surrounded by more due to famines, that spot is getting rubbed and it drives them crazy.

In comparison, it's similar to how a cat will oftentimes bite when you scratch that spot at the base of its tail. That spot is actually a sensitive gland that, when touched, overstimulates the cat's senses.

Based on my research, the molting that transpires during this psychological change is because of the stressful environment of being overcrowded. Kind of like how people themselves will lose more hair when stressed or a lot of animals shed their fur when facing anxiety. It's a consequence of the circumstances more than a method of adaptation.

That being said, I tried researching to see if locusts could go back to being grasshoppers, or essentially reverse that psychological state. And, unfortunately, came upon controversial answers. It's one of those, yes and no type questions.

This means I get to interpret the information however I want! XD

So for this short story, I'm going to be assuming that the psychological state can be reversed when they are distanced from the other grasshoppers (locusts). However, because they have already been in that manic state, Hopper and Molt find themselves in dangerous territory where the glands on their legs are much more sensitive. Meaning, they have a higher chance of reverting back to that manic state if they are too stressed.

Additionally, I'm twisting it a little bit from what we see in the movie. Now that these glands are more sensitive, the brothers are prone to be driven into a deeper manic state than what they were initially in. Especially Hopper, who was shown in the movie to be more on edge compared to his brother. Thumper's mentality is a prime example of this deeper state. So, Hopper and Molt -- mainly Hopper, but Molt must also tread lightly -- can easily be coaxed into that savage state if the glands are rubbed.

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"Come on! You'll have a great time, I promise!" Flik tugged on Hopper's arm. It was times like these he wished he weighed even half of what Hopper did.

The grasshopper didn't have to resist much. "Kid, I don't think that's such a good idea," he scratched the back of his neck.

Flik dramatically groaned, "But everyone will be there! Do you realize how often the Monarchs throw a huge party like this? Every ten years! This is our chance to meet them in person! The Monarchs, Hopper!"

"Yeah, no, I get it, really...but it's really just not my scene," Hopper unclasped Flik's hands from around his arm and stepped back. "You can go without me. The Circus Bugs are going aren't they?"

The ant gave a defeated huff, "Well, yeah..."

"Well there ya go," Hopper shrugged and nudged Flik toward the entrance of his room, "You'll have the time of your life. Go and enjoy yourself."

Flik spun around, "But it won't be the same! It's just for the night, Hop."

He sighed, "Flik--"

"Please?" The ant drooped his antennae back, lip quivering and eyes doleful. It was the most pitiful thing Hopper had laid eyes on.

His resolve lasted about five more seconds before he dropped his head, "Alright, fine...I'll go."

Flik laughed in victory, "You won't regret it!" He pulled Hopper with him down the tunnel.

"I highly doubt that."

____________________

The lightning bugs were flashing around, creating a mystical ambiance. Flik was awed at the plethora of species dancing and conversing with each other. The Monarchs held their celebrations in The City, which seemed fitting for a social creature.

Unfortunately, some of the creatures there weren't exactly social...

Flik laughed as Heimlich immediately zoned in on the food table, clearing a wide path among the crowd. "See Hop? Isn't this great?" His question wasn't answered. "Hop?" He looked around behind him, pinpointing the grasshopper a ways off.

Hopper tried staying calm, biting his lip unconsciously. There were just...so...many...insects. So much noise and racket. Where was Molt when he needed him? Lucky idiot made the excuse of helping Dr. Flora restock her infirmary. Now here he was. Why didn't he just say no? All the voices seemed as if they were blaring in his antennae.

"--op?" He blinked his eyes open, not realizing he'd squinted them closed. Flik was looking up at him worriedly, "You okay?"

"Huh? Yeah! Yeah, I'm fine," Hopper gave a wavering smile, "Just...enjoying the view," his heart felt like bursting from his chest at the sight. Everyone was just inches from each other...swarming the area.

Flik, in all innocence, gave an encouraging smile, "Well come join the fun! You can't enjoy yourself just standing here!" He went behind the grasshopper and nudged him forward.

Hopper jumped back when another insect brushed against him, "Wait, Flik! This isn't--"

Another insect bumped into them, apologizing offhandedly before moving along. Flik was small enough to not worry too much about the overcrowding. He lived in a colony for goodness' sake. Hopper felt the world spinning around him as more insects kept sliding past. To any other insect, the faint brushes of their wings against their leg would have passed them by. For Hopper, it felt like lightning jolting through his body at every touch.

While everything blurred around him, the sound of Flik calling his name was becoming white noise. A scream pierced through the chaos of his senses.

"Everyone watch out!"

"Be careful!"

"What's wrong with it?"

Flik was pulled back by the arm just as a claw sliced the air in front of him. Gypsy pushed Flik back cautiously. He stared wide-eyed at his friend, "W-What's happening?"

Hopper was doubled-over, clawing at his head momentarily before lashing out at the closest bug to him. A dragonfly fell back trying to get away, "It's gone savage!" she screamed and scrambled back into the crowd. Everyone started panicking and pushing to put distance between them and the grasshopper.

"Hopper! Are you okay?" Flik stepped forward, but Gypsy kept him back.

The grasshopper flattened his antennae baring his teeth at Flik and stalking toward him. His pupils were dilated, wings flared out, and breathing manic. Flik swallowed and shakily called out again, "Hop?"

Like a blur, Hopper lunged forward with claws sheathed. The crowd dispersed in a panic. Gypsy moved Flik behind her protectively, "Dim! Rosie! A little help over here!"

She closed her eyes shut as Hopper snarled and came inches from her face. A heavy thud directed her attention to the rhino beetle beside them. Rosie was perched on his back, working quickly to shoot her webbing around the grasshopper. Hopper tried cutting through the material but it wound tightly around his arms, immobilizing him.

"Man, what the heck happened?" Francis and the others dared walking up to Hopper, earning a hiss in response. "He...he's acting kinda like Thumper."

Flik stepped out from behind Gypsy, keeping his eyes focused on Hopper, "Hop? What's wrong buddy?" He yelped when the grasshopper snapped his jaws toward him. "Th-That's not Hopper..."

Gypsy put an arm around Flik's shoulders, "Let's take him back to the colony. Maybe Dr. Flora knows what's wrong."

_______________

"Goodness! I-I can't say I have anything of use," Flora frantically searched through her herbs. Hopper was on the floor still wrapped in the webbing, his back pressed against the rock-slab bed.

Molt walked in with some supplies in his arms, catching sight of the others, "Oh, you guys are back early!" His smile dropped when he saw his brother. "Hop!" the supplies were quickly forgotten about. Molt slid to the ground beside his brother, "Aw, Hoppy, I knew that party was a bad idea."

"You know what's wrong with him?" Francis tossed a seed at the grasshopper's head, making him snarl and push against his binds.

"It was probably 'cause o' the crowd," Molt cautiously brushed Hopper's antennae back, ignoring the growls. "The stress can make grasshopper's go savage."

Francis snorted, "Stress?"

"Well, yeah," Molt shrugged. "That and...say, were there a lot o' bugs swarmed together?"

Flik blinked, "Yeah, it was a party."

"Did he run into anyone? Or brush against anyone?"

Slim rolled his eyes, "The place was so crowded you couldn't take one step without touching someone."

Molt hummed, "Well that's why he went savage. We grasshoppers have a gland on our legs that's sensitive to touch. It's overstimulating and drives us crazy." Tentatively, he drew a claw over Hopper's leg, making the grasshopper squirm and growl from the sensation. "It's a survival tactic for when there's no food. We'll join a swarm of grasshopper's that will trigger those sensations and drive us to find food."

Flik felt a bit braver to sit down beside Hopper, "Is that why you guys were in a gang? For survival?"

"Yeah, a drought hit us bad at our old home and we were forced to find others to get food."

The ant looked back at Hopper, taking in his demeanor. Was Hopper savage back then? He certainly hadn't acted this wild. But he was definitely on edge. He was just...hungry. Starving, actually. Driven on fear for his own survival.

Gypsy kneeled down in front of Hopper, "Well, I can't do much for that gland. But I do know how to relieve stress." She forced her thumbs beneath his jaw to keep him from biting, pushing her other fingers against the back of his head. "There's a pressure point called 'the gates of consciousness' that helps relieve stress." She carefully pressed down on the back of his neck.

A deep shudder coursed his body before going limp. Gypsy felt his jaw relax and she slowly drew back, lifting his head up, "Alright, Dear, let me see." He blinked his eyes open groggily. They were back to normal from what she could see, "There we go. How are you feeling?"

Hopper groaned, "What...What happened?"

"You went a bit...feral, Dear," Gypsy sat back as Hopper took in his surroundings.

"Feral?" Everything began returning to him. He remembered the party, the lights, bugs, crowding, touching...

He shuddered at the memories, "My head hurts," he groaned.

Gypsy rubbed his temple and began cutting through the webbing, "I can imagine. We'll get you some poppy seeds to sleep it off." Dr. Flora was already getting the medicine together.

Flik wrung his hands together, "I'm sorry, Hopper. I shouldn't have pressured you into going. Why didn't you tell me this would happen?"

"What was I supposed to say?" Hopper gave a mirthless laugh, "I'd go savage if anyone touched me? Yeah, I don't think you would've believed me."

Dr. Flora handed Gypsy a few poppy seeds. "Here, eat these," she placed them in his hand. Hopper took them and laid his head back against the bed. She patted his knee and stood, "You get some rest, Dear. That headache should be gone by morning."

Flik hesitated, "I hope you're not mad."

"Me?" Hopper peeked an eye open. Flik nodded, "Why would I be mad? You didn't know, kid. On the bright side, I got to leave early," he chuckled.

Flik laughed a bit too, "Yeah, and I won't force you to go to another party again. I promise."

Hopper squinted, pinching his fingers, "I'll go to small parties, how about that? And just with our friends."

The ant grinned, "Works for me."

#a bugs life #hopper #flik #request #ask #anon ask #prompt #fanfiction #gypsy #molt #francis #slim #dim #rosie #circus bugs #writing #zootopia vibes tho

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if-you-built-yourself-a-myth · 3 years ago

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Check Ignition: Part X

That Sobbe fake-dating Hogwarts au that one person asked for and I dove into headfirst.... ALL DONE! (besides any editing)

First part // Previous part

Thank you all for sticking with me here. I'm going to make some sweeping edits to this fic on AO3 sometime in the next months, so if you have suggestions, feel free to shoot me an ask. You can also request oneshots if you like :)

Robbe had whiplash. The phone call, the blurry note, the revelation, and now Sander. Sander at his front door. Sander looking into his apartment, at the world he’d done nothing but complain about and avoid while at school. Sander, who suffered like Robbe’s mother without Robbe ever knowing, and who listened to Robbe lament things that were not her fault.

He choked on his breath.

Sander had no problem continuing the conversation. “It wasn’t fake for me, okay? It never was. I need you to get that.”

“Do you want to come in?” said Robbe.

“Who’s at the door?” called his mother from the living room. Robbe bit back the part of him that wanted to hide her away.

Sander shook his head, and water flung from the ends of his hair. “I don’t need to come in. You just had to know that. So when you come back to school, we’ll talk.”

“We could talk, um, now.”

“I don’t want to ruin your Christmas,” said Sander. “Jens said you were free though, so I had to—”

The proximity was too much for Robbe, and maybe for Sander too, because Sander grabbed Robbe by both cheeks and pulled him in for a kiss. They should muddle through everything that just went down. They should clear a space in the living room to discuss everything that happened between them during the past few weeks, most of which was still a blur, even to Robbe. They should—

Robbe leaned deeper into the kiss. All that could wait. Kissing Sander felt like breathing air after being trapped underwater.

“Robbe, who’s at the door?” his mother called again.

They broke apart for a second, Robbe’s lips stinging. Sander looked at Robbe, blinked as if surprised, and went right back in for round two. Robbe barely mustered a breath to shout, “A friend,” before Sander’s mouth on his neck sent a shiver down his spine.

“This isn’t talking,” Robbe hissed into Sander’s shoulder.

“Shut up,” said Sander. The physical aspect of their relationship had always superseded communication.

Britt’s note poked out of Robbe’s pocket as they spun into Robbe’s mess of a room. Sander backed him up onto the bed, where Robbe fell back against a pile of clothing. Layers peeled off. They only separated for harmonious milliseconds, just enough time to get a breath or whisper a sentence that meant nothing outside of their bodies pressed together. If Robbe could do wordless magic, he imagined the whole apartment might have been vaporized in one firm wave of euphoria.

He was not unaware of his mother’s presence in their living room, and thus cast the muffiliato charm while Sander’s tongue danced over his teeth. The non-magical lock should hold. Any other noise would become nothing more than static in her ears.

His mother. Whom Sander thought he hated. They needed to talk about it.

Sander slid his hand across the bare skin of Robbe’s stomach.

Maybe they didn’t need to talk about it right now.

In no time, the early-morning sun cast golden rays through the binds on Robbe’s bedroom window. He woke with a start, sitting bolt upright in the sheets, and jumped again when he saw Sander’s body wrapped up beside him. Still here. Real. The sunlight made Sander’s face resemble an oil painting, glowing cheeks and serene eyes half-closed against the world. A line of drool cut a pathway down to Robbe’s pillow. Robbe disentangled himself from the bedclothes, pulled on a sweater, and tiptoed out of the room for breakfast. He knew he had some explaining to do.

Sure enough, his mother awaited him. She propped herself up against their kitchen counter, a mug of coffee clasped in her hands.

“Morning,” she said, blasé.

“Morning,” said Robbe.

“I hope you used protection.”

Robbe blushed. “Mom.”

“Robbe,” she imitated. “You bring someone into my house, I don’t see her, and next thing I know she’s in your room. I’m not stupid.”

She. Her. Robbe swallowed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to spring him on you. He was supposed to stay on campus.” He drummed his fingers on the countertop, waited for her to notice his pronoun use. Was it a casual way to come out to someone huge? Yes. Did he want to have a larger conversation about his sexuality when he only just understood it himself? Absolutely not.

His mother’s eyes widened. “If you mean to tell me you smuggled Jens in here—oh, his parents already hate me. I’ll have to make a call—”

“It’s not Jens,” said Robbe.

“I should hope not.” Her voice softened. “From the phone last night?”

This was a moment for honesty. Robbe started the coffeemaker and placed a mug of his own under the dispenser. He tried to recall anything awful he’d said about her during his time with Sander, anything that would make Sander think that their relationship couldn’t be real beyond the arrangement. He said, “Yes. I didn’t know he was coming.”

Four weeks. Four weeks had passed since he kissed Sander for the first time in the astronomy tower. So much had happened in that time. What if the whole thing was one long manic episode? No, that was stupid. There were symptoms to mania, and it would be wrong to assume Sander wasn’t completely stable. Lots of people were.

“What’s his name?” It seemed by now his mother had caught on. “You used protection, right?”

“His name is Sander,” said Robbe, “and nothing happened. Honestly.”

His mother waggled her eyebrows at him. He stared down at his bare feet, wondering when Sander would wake up.

The conversation lulled, so Robbe pretended to take a sip of his coffee, even though it was still too hot for his tongue. He supposed he should be thankful that the coming-out experience had not been as hard or as unpleasant as it could have been, but the lack of reaction felt incomplete, far too casual for the scenario in which it was presented.

“So,” said his mother. She looked behind Robbe into the hallway from whence he came, as if scared that Sander would be out of the bedroom at any minute. “That phone call…”

“He was in crisis,” Robbe offered.

“I might have heard my title mentioned once or twice.”

“It’s—” Robbe didn’t know what to tell her it was. He didn’t quite know himself.

Something in his mother’s eyes, though, told him that she did. “Listen,” she said, leaning toward him from her place on the counter. “I feel like there are a few things you and I haven’t really addressed. It’s my fault, in a way, for keeping them unsaid.”

Robbe nodded along.

“You and I, we’re—” Her breath caught. “Lines must’ve been crossed at some point, y’know?”

“I don’t know what that means,” said Robbe.

“It means I love you so much. Even if I wasn’t there for you. I know there are moments that you can’t forgive me for, but—”

“Do we have to have this conversation now?” Robbe was still lightheaded from the previous night, and from waking up next to Sander, and from gathering the courage to casually come out only moments ago.

“Yes, now.” His mother took him by the hand, her fingertips brushing his knuckles, and for a moment, he was with her on the side of the road as a child, watching for passing cars. “I love you, and it’s okay if you hate me. If that’s what you have to do.” Before Robbe could protest once more, she cut him off. “I heard you on the phone last night, and you said you didn’t, I know. But we don’t talk much, do we?”

Robbe burned his tongue on his coffee rather than answer.

“I know that my illness isn’t easy for you to deal with. It isn’t easy for me either. And I know sometimes it feels like we’re not… I don’t know. Sometimes it might feel like I ruined everything.”

He could deny it, but she’d know he was lying.

“Your Sander… in the phone call, well, it seemed like…”

“He has it too,” said Robbe. “Bipolar.”

“Do you love him?”

Robbe dropped his head into her shoulder and inhaled. There were so many moments they missed because of her sickness. There was so much of her that he never wanted to talk about with anyone outside of his father, who knew everything anyway. In the action, though, he hoped she understood everything that he couldn’t say right now: Yes I love him, I’m trying to forgive you, I love you too. I understand you. I’m sorry for the way I talked about you, even if I’m not sure I regret it yet. Sometimes, all you need is time. He knew he’d have to wait for the betrayal to dissipate. Step one was admitting he loved her anyway.

The timer on her phone beeped for medication. She dropped his hand to go for the foyer, where her pills waited on display in the hallway.

Robbe stopped her with a whisper. “I don’t want him to go through what you did.”

“You remember that blood sausage recipe?” she asked. It seemed off-topic, enough to derail Robbe’s train of thought.

“Of course,” he said.

“You and your father had such a great time making it for Christmas every year. I thought maybe—” Robbe’s mother pulled something from her pants pocket, an index card with loopy cursive handwriting.

Robbe looked down at the card, back up at his mother, back down at the card again. He didn’t know what to say, so he said the first thing that popped into his head. “You don’t ruin things. I don’t know why I—”

“Youruin plenty,” Robbe’s mother said. “We don’t need to start coddling each other now.” She motioned him back to his bedroom with a wink. In some bizarre way, they’d reached a tentative understanding.

***

Robbe expected for Sander to be asleep when he returned to bed. In the grand scheme of things, it was still quite early. But Sander was awake, combing the room, searching for his shirt and pants among the chaos of Robbe’s floor. His hair stuck out in all different directions, and Robbe let himself wonder at the warmth it spread through his chest. He’d never felt this way about anyone before. Of course it would be Sander that did it.

“Going somewhere?” he asked, more to be conversational.

“Hogwarts,” said Sander.

Okay, not what Robbe wanted to hear. “What?”

“I’m going back to Hogwarts. Supposed to be there for the holidays.”

It hit Robbe again: the possibility that everything was as fake as their original relationship. Mania, or something. Mania didn’t normally work like that, but— “I thought we had to talk,” Robbe said.

Sander shrugged. “You made it clear you didn’t want to.”

“How?”

“Well, we didn’t.”

“You kissed me,” said Robbe.

Sander abandoned the search for his own shirt and pulled one of Robbe’s threadbare sweatshirts over his head. The bottom skimmed up at his hips, and the sleeves were a little short at the wrists. A moment later, he recovered his jeans. Robbe couldn’t stop him from getting dressed without feeling dirty, so he blocked the doorway as much as someone with his stature could.

“You talked to Jens?” he asked.

“Said you’d be here,” Sander said. “It was a stupid idea. I don’t know why I came. Nothing changed.”

Everything changed. Robbe bit his lip. He wasn’t sure how to articulate the things he was feeling anymore, not in the chaos of all this new information at once.

“I don’t want you to go.” He reached out to hold Sander’s wrist.

Sander shook his hand away. “No, I’m going to ruin everything. That’s why they want me there, that’s why you want me there.”

“I don’t want you there. I want you here.”

They stood at a faceoff, and Robbe dropped Sander’s wrist to make a barrier across the doorframe. Such a motion felt childish. If Sander pushed at his arm, Robbe decided, he’d let Sander through, because he wasn’t here to keep Sander in places Sander didn’t want to be.

No movement. Sander took a deep breath and sat back on the bed. “Even this,” he said. “I feel fine, but it was crazy to come here. Sometimes I do things and they’re crazy and I don’t realize. I don’t want you to hate me.”

Robbe thought about his own mother. She wasn’t crazy. She was sick. He couldn’t promise to feel like he loved her one hundred percent of the time, but he loved her just the same. Never had he hated her.

“I won’t,” he said. “I can’t.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“Then I’ll do my very best.”

The paper that Britt gave Robbe in the astronomy tower shot up from its dejected place on the ground, its requirements fulfilled. The writing shifted from overlapping words, to cursive, to a legible, block print. Robbe would read it to completion later:

Robbe:

I’m not an expert. These are things that have worked in the past. He should tell you more than this.

1. Be there. That’s the big one. Sometimes he’ll ask you to be close to him, other times he’ll want you to leave him alone, and that’s fine. Just be there.

2. Talk to him. It’s his illness and he knows more about his experience than anyone else.

3. He’s not stupid so don’t treat him like he is. I know I do sometimes. Don’t be me for him.

4. Not everything is an episode. It’s going to feel like a lot of stuff is. I don’t know how to get around it.

5. Ask for help when you need it. It doesn’t do anyone any good if you pretend you can take care of everything by yourself.

Britt

But for now, Robbe let it flutter downward once more. He thought back across their time together thus far. Kissing Sander in the Quidditch stands, making out in the upper corner of a classroom, sharing breakfast in the Great Hall. This started as a way to keep Noor off his back, of course, but somehow, it blossomed into a long joyride of self-discovery and love. Love. The word hit him just as hard as it had on their first date by the Great Lake. Sander looked at Robbe like that, and Robbe knew he needed more than a fake relationship. Here it was. All he had to do was show Sander the same.

Robbe couldn’t go anywhere if he tried.

“It was easier when you thought we were pretending,” he said, pushing aside all doubts. No more disclaimers. No more stepping back and letting Sander walk in the other direction. He knew what he wanted. “When it was fake, you didn’t have to worry about me leaving.”

Sander shrugged. “Low stakes. Like a game.”

“Alright then, let’s play a game.” Robbe’s confidence built as he found his stride. He took a step away from the doorway and grabbed Sander’s hands in his own, the smooth skin he’d imagined against his every night this week. Sander let him. “It’s called Robbe and Sander, minute by minute. How you play it is you only worry about the next minute. You and I together. If you could pretend it was real, how is it different when it’s real?”

The gap between them closed in an aching kiss, teeth tugging on the edge of lips, fingers dancing over goosebumped shoulders. Robbe hoped Sander could taste the sincerity on his tongue. Each kiss bled into the next, peaceful, a request for more. Robbe was asking, again and again, and Sander was replying in the same vein. Yes, I want this with you. If you’ll take me, I want this with you.

“I’m going to mess up,” Sander whimpered, pulling away an inch.

“Okay,” said Robbe.

“What if you regret this in the future?”

“Okay.”

“Robbe, what if it was better off fake, what if—” He cut off as Robbe leaned in for yet another kiss. Melted into the sensation. The muffliato charm might be a nice investment.

“What you and I have,” Robbe whispered into Sander’s lips, “has always been real.”

Tomorrow, Jens and Moyo would call to see how the night went. They gave Sander directions to the house in accordance with article XII, section VIII of Operation Sobbe. Robbe, Sander, and his mother would make blood sausage and cry laughing when Sander took the first bite. Robbe would return to Hogwarts after break with Sander’s hand clasped in his own. But tonight, if Robbe could do wordless magic, the world would freeze in this moment forever.

And afterward, the view from his bedroom window beat that of the astronomy tower, because it reflected their faces back.

#sobbe #hogwarts au #sander driesen #robbe ijzermans #robbe x sander #fake dating #requested fic #my writing

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harcourtholmesii · 4 years ago

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An Officer’s Loyalty (Part 3)

Pairing: Medic X Reader

Words: 1408

Warnings:

- Swearing

- Some Gore and Body Horror

- Surgical/Medical Situations

- Some Slight Nudity (Half Nudity)

Enjoy!

The cool of the underground seeped through your uniform, even past the extra layer that was Medic’s coat. Probably the most high-tech part of the building, the basement level was a labyrinth of concrete, a dull grey with only a singular, painted red line that ran continuously across the walls on either side. It was quiet for the most part, save for the occasional groan of pipes and the flicker of the lights.

You had passed by many doors, but hadn’t been allowed to take in your surroundings properly. You had all but lost track of where to go when you passed the sad excuse for a kitchen. Your ‘escorts’, Heavy and Medic, had kept a quick pace as they led you into the depths of your new home. The belly of the beast, if you will.

Before you had left the billiard room and your interrogation behind, Medic had insisted that he take you to have your surgery completed first.

‘Vouldn’t vant to forget und zhen haff jou’re heart explode on zhe battlefield!’

It had been the first time you had heard him speak in his usual, manic glee since he had first found you and Spy in the mine shaft. It had been unnerving, but you didn’t feel like it was safe to, so quickly, go back on your agreement.

When he had started guiding you out of the room, Heavy had been quick to follow. You had never seen the two apart for long; perhaps because they had a history before their careers at Mann Co. or when they would have had to learn English for the job. Considering how often Medic’s tongue dipped back into his maiden language, you suspected he hadn’t spoken much English before his work at Mann Co.

Heavy hadn’t said much at all since you arrived, but he seemed less agitated by your presence. You still noticed how his eyes would occasionally glance at you if you trailed behind, but he didn’t do much more than slow his pace ever so slightly.

Finally, after too long trying to follow Medic’s quick footsteps, you came to two large doors, with a painted red cross upon them. Medic pushed them open easily and gestured for you to enter. You hesitated, on account that you had been expecting the medical bay.

Not a bloody slaughterhouse.

The medical bay still had some utensils here and there; a bonesaw or three, pliers, syringes, and a surgery table with a different kind of medigun attached to the roof, hanging down like some James Bond torture device. The drawers were in a disarray, buckets of blood, bones and feathers dotted the linoleum floor, and an open bird cage filled with pigeons and the occasional bird shit made you feel sick to your stomach. The remnants of the medical bay, surely, were not where you would be having this surgery?!

Heavy nudged you inside, and Medic moved about the surgery table, going to wash his hands in a bloodied steel sink. Heavy offered you an almost apologetic smile, as he took to sitting by the door and crossing his arms.

‘Bitte, haff a seat.’ The German rolled his head to one side, to gesture to the operating table. You let out a scoff.

‘You’re kidding.’

Medic turned to look at you, almost confused by your unwillingness to sit or lay down upon the surgery table. You looked back over the steel table, eyes landing on leather straps at about where ones ankles, wrists and neck might be. You cocked a brow, gesturing to the straps.

‘And, what surgery might need those? Or did you run out of anaesthesia?’

‘Oh, zhose!’ He almost laughed, the smile returning full force to his face. ‘Das is nozhing! Scout vas just moving around too much during his surgery, so I had zhem installed. Ve don’t haff to use zhem if you don’t vant to.’

‘That doesn’t answer my question about the anaesthesia.’

‘Ve don’t use it.’

What?

‘I said it before, and I’ll fucking say it again; ‘you’re kidding me?!” You stepped back, closer to the door, your legs shaking. Heavy had stood, but he didn’t seem threatening. He just seemed encouraging. You shook your head. ‘Like Hell I am going to let you cut me open like that! I’d rather be killed!’

‘Doktor does not use anaesthesia because it is not common.’

‘Excuse me?’ You turned on Heavy, giving him the most furious glare in your arsenal. Too bad that due to your lack of stature, it was nothing intimidating. You would have liked to see the big man show a hint of something other than indifference or great ferocity.

‘Vas Herr Heavy means, is das I do not often haff access to anaesthesia.’ You turned your furious glare back on the German, and much like Heavy, he didn’t even blink. ‘Razher zhan using it for all surgeries, I haff zhe medigun dull zhe pain instead, und save zhe anaesthesia for vorse injuries.’

‘How are your employers this…’ You dare not finish your sentence. The administrator had cameras everywhere, and you did not doubt that she, or rather Miss Pauling, would find a way to sneak a camera or bug into your opponent’s base.

‘And… you expect me to let you cut me open in this…’ You gestured about. ‘… In this mess?’

‘Vell, I haff never been too picky, und after zhe first surgery, I haff had few complaints. No one has gotten sick because of it.’ He assured. ‘If it vill make jou feel better zhough, I can keep zhe gloves on.’

You held back a retch. Your chest had tightened and you felt your lungs compress, as if trying to expel all oxygen. You felt some form of small relief when there was the snap of red rubber gloves, and Medic gestured once more to the table. You looked between Heavy, the way out and the crazed doctor, contemplating your options.

‘Do I need a surgical gown?’ The Medic laughed, a great guffaw of something almost sinister. You didn’t join him.

‘Nein! Of course not!’

You stepped hesitantly towards the surgical table and took a seat on the cold steel. You were shaking, goose bumps shuddering their way up and down your skin. You removed Medic’s coat and then, having thought about it, removed your own. The medical bay was even colder than the halls, and you brought your arms around you in a sorry attempt to trap as much heat as you could.

As Medic approached, you laid down, gripping onto the edges of the table. You didn’t want to give him an excuse to use the straps. Looking up at him, you could swear you had been thrown through time and space and ended up in a Twilight Zone episode. Some creepy, fucked up, science fiction-horror show, where you were the helpless victim. You hated it.

He reached up, first switching on the red, translucent beam of the medigun that hung above your head. The scarlet, smoke-like tail sunk low and into your chest; you could feel a warmth behind your ribs and a numbness run all across your body. Your fear still gripped as tightly to you as you did the steel table when Medic pulled out the saw.

He didn’t wait for you to shakily undo the buttons of your shirt, or remove the bandages underneath. He placed the bonesaw down and replaced it instead with surgical scissors, cutting the cloth open with a few quick snips. Despite the warmth of the beam, the cool of the room was enough to tense your body for the first blow.

The medigun’s powerful, relaxing beam did little to make the initial incision any kinder. You watched in terror and pain, eyes already filling with tears, as the saw split your skin straight down, from collar to naval. You tried not to scream, but you couldn’t hold back your cries when you witnessed the doctor holding your own heart in his hand.

Your head was spinning and your vision becoming dotted with black smudges. You felt a warm hand on your shoulder and a wet glove against your cheek before your brain overheated from the pain and stress.

You would have considered it embarrassing that you had fainted and your old team would never have let you live it down. You didn’t feel shame though when your world went dark, however.

Instead, it was anger boiling in your blood.

~~X~~

I just wanted to thank a couple of readers of this little series for their words and just wanted to say how thankful I am that they have been enjoying it!

One reader helped to motivate my interest in continuing the story when I was suffering major writer’s block, after they messaged me asking if there was more to come. I had no idea that anyone really read my Tumblr stories anymore, so I wasn’t expecting to continue, so I really appreciate the little boost.

And then the other was one reader who, after they reblogged the post, gave me a good laugh and reminded me how much I love this series, the Medic and this fandom simply by adding some amazing tags to the end! This was a little while ago, but I only just realised, and I loved it!

Thank you though, to anyone who takes the time to read my works. I truly appreciate it, and I am glad you have been enjoying yourselves reading them!

#fanfiction #fanfic #TF2 #Team Fortress 2 #Medic #Heavy #Medic X Reader #Canon X Reader #HarcourtHolmesII

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allandoflimbo · 5 years ago

Text

Take It Back (Chapter 19)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: About five years ago, a one night stand with Y/N tore Bucky’s life apart. It was also the night before his wedding. Now he’s married to her sister and she needs a place to stay.

Chapter Warnings: Language.

A/N: Over my manic episode lol, now back to work. :) Here you guys go. Sorry it took so long to get my shit together. I love you. ALSO, i know a lot of you guys caught up with it on AO3, so just let me know if you no longer wanna be tagged in this. :)

MASTERPAGE |

It had become routinary.

Like an immortal soul or a person without any malice and without non-malice intent, you’d carry on and on.

You’d wake up at five-thirty am, take a hot shower, go for a run, take another shower, get dressed for work, stop by your choice of restaurant that week, pick up cat food, feed Pebbles, clean the house, take another shower, put on your PJs, and binge-watch American Horror Story until it was too late to decide if it was actually too late to go to bed.

It took exactly one week into your emotional break down for you to realize that your life had to be this way in order for you to succeed. It was the only way you could keep yourself distracted from the other thoughts of guilt that would lead to ultimate heartbreak.

You had left Ashlyn��s life in a way that you didn’t see yourself doing.

At first, you felt wrong for it.

She was your only sister and the only closest family member you had left. You especially thought it was wrong for leaving without any explanation. But eventually, after much-considered thought, you decided that even though it was wrong, it was the best choice. It was something you had to do.

You had to do it because it would be wrong of you to hang out with her or have some kind of association with her without her knowing the evil thing that you had done behind her back.

It didn’t sit well with you.

You also realized that if you stuck around, you would probably develop some kind of hate for her that would be beyond your control; hate made out of jealousy and envy.

You wouldn’t be able to see them together ever again, you would not bring yourself to.

You had texted her a few days after your decision, explaining to her that new opportunities had arisen in your life and that you might be seeing less of her because of it.

Though you still reassured her that you would continue to stick around if she needed anything and she reciprocated vice versa.

As much as you disliked her, as much as you didn’t like the choices she’s made, or person that she had become, at the end of the day she was always your big sister. That was a kind of bond you couldn’t break.

After she’d wished you good look and good wishes, you wondered if you should contact Bucky.

You wondered if he would tell her.

That was the first time the thought entered your mind and it scared the shit out of you. You prayed that he wouldn’t say a thing.

You thought about Steve as well. You knew he wasn’t dumb but you were thankful that he never mentioned anything both that night. But for some reason, you couldn’t get that damn look he had on his face. You couldn’t forget the way he looked at you at the wedding.

He had chased you, and he looked hurt by you.

Like he knew.

Sometimes you wonder if maybe if it had been Bucky that had run after you if you would have stayed.

But it wasn’t.

After that conclusion, you begged yourself to move on.

That was when the routines began- it kept you busy and distracted.

It had been five months and two days since you walked out of his life.

After much time, it was going a lot better than how you thought it would. You started by distracting yourself with your own life.

You even picked up extra hours at work and spent endless nights learning new recipes.

You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but you ended up watching way too much of the news. Maybe it was the adult in your trying to peak out, or maybe you were just that desperate to get away from your own issues.

You and pebbles sat on your couch as you both mocked Trump’s face on CNN, softly caressing Pebble’s little black head.

Your sat on your legs, your little throw blanket thrown over your lap and Pebbles next to your feet on the couch.

You shook your head in dismay as yet another scandal unfolded itself.

“What a dumbass, Peb.”

Meow.

You gasp.

“What do you mean you would have voted for him?”

Meow. Prrrr.

You huff.

“That’s what I thought, you little nugget.”

Everything during the day got easier as time went by, including life.

Slowly, you had cut yourself out of everyone’s lives.

You didn’t want to, but you felt like it was the best choice in such a predicament.

You didn’t answer Steve’s calls.

Bucky never even attempted to reach out to you except for one night about a week ago.

You had stared at your phone in a trance, completely puzzled at first, before tossing it on your couch.

You went back to sliding on your sneakers for your daily run.

No.

You ran your emotions away until the sweat mingled in with your tears.

You didn’t even realize it started pouring until you had to stop on the side of the road, breathing hard as you attempted to catch your breath.

You let your head fall down as your hands rested on the knees of your bent legs. You sobbed relentlessly as the thunder clashed in the skies above you.

The overwhelming guilt consumed you.

You had done good, you did everything you could to distract yourself and to not think about him.

But during the nights it was the hardest.

Simply put: you were lonely.

You missed your friends, Steve, and Nat. You wanted to make peace with Steve, you wanted to tell Nat how sorry you were for being a coward, and most importantly, you missed him.

You’d wake up the next day and repeat it all again.

It was the only thing that helped.

The beginning months of their marriage had been rocky.

It had gone in any way you would’ve expected for a man who had just cheated on his wife.

Their wedding night had been a disaster.

When they returned to their room that night, in a mix of tight hand-holding and severe lack of eye contact, Bucky had allowed Ashlyn to go into their suite before him.

While inside, he sat on the bed, back faced to her, and he had been silent as he unbuttoned his dress shirt.

Ashlyn had stared at him, even though he couldn’t see her.

The silence had been unbearable.

She felt pain-filled tears in her eyes at his cold demeanor.

He was treating her not how a husband should, especially on their wedding night.

He was treating her like something was very wrong.

She didn’t understand why.

Their ceremony had been everything she had ever dreamed of, but during the reception, he had barely stared into her eyes. He didn’t look at her during their dance, and only once or twice after that.

They made brief eye contact once when his eyes had been cold and soulless. In an instance, a part of her heart hurt badly within her chest.

What’s wrong? She had wanted to say.

She wasn’t too oblivious. She knew that months ago something had happened with him and someone else, especially after she had been gone for so long on her work trips. She knew that they had gone through a big bump in the road.

And the guilt of that had eaten her alive and she promised to put it behind her, so she continued to strive for them - to make this work. Ashlyn wasn’t sure exactly what Bucky had done, but like a silent mutual agreement, neither touched the subject any further.

For some time, she had even believed maybe she was wrong because they started doing so well again.

But their wedding day and their wedding night went anything but well.

She had gone into their bathroom and slowly taken off her jewelry and dress. Soft tears ran down her face as she took the hundreds of bobby pins out of her hair, laying them down on the sink with shaky fingers.

She had refused to look at herself in the mirror, knowing that she’d start crying right away.

She slid on a pair of matching pink silk PJ shorts and a tank top.

Neither said a word as she slid up next to him on the bed.

It didn’t surprise her that he didn’t even make love to her that night.

It took time, but eventually, he had gathered her in his arms, caressing the sides of her waist as she breathed against him.

Her lingerie was tucked away and left untouched in her suitcase.

They didn’t talk about it, and Ashlyn swallowed back heavy tears as he laid motionless without saying a word.

It took them hours to fall asleep that night.

Early that morning they took their flight out to Mykonos.

He held her hand the entire flight, occasionally giving her a small smile that never reached his pretty blue eyes.

A pair of eyes that ones use to shy but were now a pit of no emotions.

Ashlyn tried to hold back more tears as he laid his head against the window, staring down at the puffy clouds and not at her.

She regretted it- the nightly escapades -what she had done with men on her work trips, what she had sacrificed to give them.

Their future was now filled with materialist fortune because of her filthy mistakes, and she most importantly regretted what she had done with his father.

She wanted them to be okay.

She wanted him to love her the way he used to.

She sniffed slightly as her throat grew tight. She laid her head on his shoulder.

The heavyweight of her head made Bucky look down at his lap, closing his eyes tightly together.

He felt awful.

Sure, he didn’t want Ashlyn anymore, but something just didn’t sit well with him knowing what he did and Ashlyn knowing damn well that he was acting strange.

On their honeymoon, when they did talk they argued.

They had gone to a little restaurant in a bay area but barely spoke a word to each other.

The air was tense and his kisses only lingered like a tangent poison on her lips.

Every night he had woken up shaking and sweating. He always dreamed of you and your gorgeous smile.

He could hear you saying his name in his dreams, and he could feel the bones of your hips on his hands as he guided you to move above him.

Then, he would hear you tell him you loved him and he would start crying in his sleep.

They were never loud enough to wake Ashlyn up, but it was strong enough to make him stir and awaken.

They didn’t make love until the night before they flew out.

It had been spontaneous and Bucky had done it more out of anger and stress after he had seen something in a gift shop that reminded him of you.

He had whimpered against Ashlyn's mouth as he held her against the wall of their little bedroom. It was a small room, about thirty by forty feet because they had wanted the trip to be as authentic as possible.

His hands helped to wrap her legs around his waist and he grabbed her harshly, forcing his tongue down her throat.

He shoved her beneath him onto their bed as they ripped each other’s clothes off.

Next, he had taken her brutally against the mattress.

Afterward, Ashlyn had been stunned.

He had never fucked her that way before. It had been purely carnal, dirty.

She laid shaking that entire night.

He woke up again that dawn, having dreamed of you again.

He knew he needed help, he knew that the guilt was eating him alive and so was the sadness of losing you.

Four five months, their marriage has been silently suffering and grew complicated. The other wondered how long it would be before one of them said something to make or break it.

They moved into Bucky’s father’s penthouse shortly after.

It was beautiful. It wasn’t as big as Ashlyn would have expected, and Bucky also had sworn it used to be bigger when he used to live with his parents. It had an average size foyer that would lead into the living room. The wood flooring was light and contrasted beautifully with the white walls. To the right was a large window that occupied most of the wall, and to the far side was a decent sized kitchen with dark brown cabinetry. Down the hall was a guest bedroom and a powder room.

On the left side was a dining room and then to the corner glass stairs that led up to the upstairs area where there were three other bedrooms, one full bathroom and a master bathroom that connected to the master bedroom.

The mere thought that Bucky was now sleeping in the same bedroom that his now-dead parents used, made something creep up his spine - a cold and chilling feeling.

It didn’t help their marriage and it certain didn’t help with the other emotions he had felt.

They would eat dinner in silence and then they would have silent meaningless sex on their dinner table in a tangle of confusion and unspoken declarations.

It got to the point where Ashlyn had left for work every morning without even waiting for him anymore.

She would feel used and empty, the bruises on her hips nagging and mocking her for the rest of the day.

Ashlyn considered just asking Bucky what was going on.

She wanted to, but she was afraid.

It had been going on for five months.

It’s a Tuesday morning when Bucky was having breakfast by himself in the kitchen. He hears a knock on his door.

He looked up from his phone, where he had been reading today’s news.

He perks a brow, not expecting anyone to have been at his home at this time. He hadn’t even seen Steve since his wedding day, their little awkward encounter not yet having been addressed.

It was evident neither wanted to.

“Come in.” He said loudly through a mouth full of honey nut cheerios.

The big white door swung open.

Bucky was slightly scared at who the intruder was until he saw a big head of red pop out from behind the door.

A long sigh escapes his lips.

The beauty spins her head around and gives him a bright smile, closing the door behind her.

She perks a brow.

“You didn’t comb your hair today, I see.”

Bucky runs a quick hand through his hair as he swallows down the cereal.

“What gives? My house, I can do I want.” He mumbles swirling his spoon in his milk.

He peaks a teasing eye up at Nat and smirks.

“Yeah, I can see that.” She laughs.

“What’s up?”

“How are things with you and Ashlyn?”

Bucky stalls for a moment, swirling his milk one more time, before responding.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing, I’ve just noticed that you’ve been a bit different the last few months,” Nat states simply.

Bucky sighs, looking out towards the kitchen window and out into the city.

He gives into himself and sighs.

“It’s been better, Nat. Marriage isn’t as easy as we’d hope I guess.” He mumbles the end as he takes the bowl off the island and turns around to put it in the sink.

Nat sighs, “Yeah, I can imagine. Why do you think I haven’t gotten married yet?”

Bucky chuckles, “You’re right. You’re smart.”

There’s a small smile on his face when he says it as he spins back around, but Nat senses the pleading tone in his voice and both of them are quiet.

Nat eyes him up and down before she reaches into her bag.

Bucky narrows his eyes at her.

“Just know that if there’s anything you need, you can just ask me. If you need a friend, advice, anything. If you guys need any help-”

“Thanks, but we’re fine.” He cuts off curtly but not in a rude manner.

Nat ignores him and pulls out a white card and slides it across the table.

“Please don’t take this as an insult or me trying to pry or anything like that, because it’s none of my business. But I think this might help you both.”

Bucky takes the card.

Couple’s Therapist

Bruce Banner

34 6th Street

New York, NY

(212)***-****

Bucky looks at it for a second.

He contemplates it, really contemplates it, and he finds the gesture comforting and surprisingly sweet.

He bends the edge of it as he reads the name of the doctor repeatedly- over and over again.

“Thanks.”

Bucky could care less any longer about salvaging his wedding with Ashlyn. He should’ve known it was all an evil scheme for her since the beginning, so he was doing this for his own selfish needs.

Bucky wants nothing more than to rip his hand out of hers as they sit next to each other on the dark brown leather chairs. He hopes the good doctor doesn’t see right through his phony act.

Dr. Banner was soft-spoken and wore small glasses on the peak of his nose. He gave off a sweet soul that automatically piqued Bucky’s interest. From his first firm handshake, he knew that Banner would be someone he could trust.

Bruce gave the beautiful couple a small smile before sitting down directly in front of him.

The room smelled of aloe and mint, calming Ashlyn for the first time in a long time.

“Mr. And Mrs. Barnes please sit.”

“Thanks.” Both Bucky and Ashlyn said.

Bruce takes off his glasses and eyes the couple curiously.

“So let’s start by introducing ourselves. You just got married five months ago?”

“Yes. Sir.”

He lays his glasses down on the table in front of him.

“That’s very recent. I’m surprised.”

Ashlyn gives Bucky a side glance as Bucky continues to hold steady eye contact with Banner.

“Yes, we’ve had some issues in the past.”

Bucky’s jaw ticks.

Bruce notes this.

“Well, we’re going to discuss possible issues that maybe could’ve arisen and insecurities between the both of you. This will be a long process, but I will do in my best ability to help you both. We’re going to put all our walls down for this, do you understand? No secrets from me.”

Bucky swallows while Ashlyn nods. She looks once more at him and Bucky is still facing forward, jaw tight and tense.

“You see? He can’t even look at me.”

Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Do you not love me anymore?”

Bucky doesn’t respond.

“Do you want a divorce? We’ve been married for five months. You didn’t even have sex with me on our wedding night.”

Banner raises a comical brow at this.

“I can’t leave you.”

Bucky says fiercely. The silence that follows it is tense and questioning.

“So we need to make this work,” Ashlyn says, quickly letting go of his hand.

Their first session with Banner was an hour and five minutes long. It was the most the couple had talked to each other since their wedding day, and it solved absolutely nothing.

Dr. Banner sighed as he watched them walk away, not really knowing what the hell he was going to do with them.

He was just thankful that they were done screaming so he could take his small coffee break and read a bit.

Of course, that was cut short when he heard a small knock coming from his door.

“Yes?”

Bucky walks in slowly, a mischievous look in his eyes as he slowly closing the door behind him.

Banner raises a surprised brow at him.

“James? Something wrong?”

Bucky licks his lips nervously.

“N-no sir, I just…”

Well, this was interesting, Banner had to admit. He sits down on his desk, still keeping one foot on the floor.

He notices how upset and nervous Bucky is and it’s the first sign of emotion he had shown aside from anger all day. It intrigues the doctor.

“You can tell me.”

“If I ask to see you privately, as my therapist, would what me and you talk about be confidential?”

Bruce is silent for a second as he connects the dots. He notes Bucky’s fidgeting hands and his pleading eyes.

Something was killing the poor kid.

“Is there something you don’t want Ashlyn to know?”

“Yes.” It comes out in a whimper. His tone, begging.

“James, if whatever this has to do with your marriage, you should tell your wife. You're here to fix your relationship with her, but yet you want my help to help keep something hidden from her.”

Bucky is silent as he looks away, defeated. This stuns the doctor.

“You’re not here for your marriage.” Bruce says it like it’s not questionable, “you’re here for you.”

Bucky’s stance and tone become pleading as he steps closer to Banner.

“It has more to do with my health though. Look, I know it doesn’t make sense but I need help, please. I’ll pay you twice or ever three times as much. As much as you want. Please, doctor Banner.”

Bruce didn’t like this, but for some reason, he figured that maybe if he helped Bucky with his private issue, it could eventually fix the problem he had with his wife.

Maybe.

He regrets it a bit after he says it, but he does.

“Alright, I’ll help you.”

You had another episode last night and it was worse than usual.

You swore you could feel his soft hands on your hips as you moved on top of him.

You felt the whispers of his voice against your ears as he kept telling you he loved you, and it felt so real.

You were a ghost when you woke up, and your body robotic. The sun wasn’t up yet so you turned on your side lamp on your nightstand since it wasn’t too bright and wouldn’t hurt your eyes.

It took you a bit for you to come to your senses and for you to notice that you had gathered your personal belongings on your bed and that you were throwing things out.

Things that reminded you of Ashlyn. Pictures of when you were kids, T-shirts, gifts she had given you - everything.

Tears ran down your face as you skim your finger over one specific picture of you and your sister with your parents.

You sobbed and your sadness became anger as you continued to stare at her in the picture.

How dare she get the loving man, how dare he love her more than you…you were angry.

And you wanted to move on.

In a fury, you rip the pictures into tiny pieces until they’re scattered all over your bed.

Your breathing is shallow and heavy as you look at the mess you’ve made.

With a different kind of pain that you hadn’t felt in a long time, you bury your face in your hands and cry silently.

Everything around you was silent. The house was silent and so was the world outside.

You were alone.

Fifteen miles away sat Steve in his work office at Barnes Enterprises.

He had just put his two-week notice in and he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

He couldn’t stand to work for Bucky right now, not after the wedding night and not knowing anything about what was happening.

It distracted him too much and it made him upset.

He’d gotten a new job at a new company five blocks down. Steve had requested two weeks from his top guy so he didn’t even have to talk to Bucky directly to let him know he was leaving.

He was almost entirely packed except for some things that he still had to finish before he left.

It was early morning and he was finishing up one of his files when the image of you clouded his mind.

The image of you running out of his best friend’s wedding and crying haunted him.

He needed to find you.

That’s when he had stopped doing what he was doing and he pulled out his phone.

He found your name without thinking and clicked the little phone icon under your name.

Steve lets out a heavy breath as he brings his phone to his ear. With his other hand, he runs it through his hair and pulls slightly at the top.

ring.

Come on. Come on. He says in his head as he bounces his left leg up and down. What was he even going to say?

The ring cuts off and he sucks in a breath-

“I’m sorry but the number you are trying to reach is no longer in service.”

His heart falls into the pit of his stomach.

In your room, you had somehow fallen asleep through all your crying, and your phone laid silent and untouched on your nightstand.

Chapter 20 |

@wxntersoldxer16 @void-imaginations @heykarsyn @avashroom @sarcastic-and-cool @lunaticbarnes @benhardygalileo @wildmavs @runaway-escape @stevieboyharrington @kimvmarvel

#Bucky x Reader #Bucky Barnes Fanfiction #Bucky Barnes x You #Bucky barnes x reader #Marvel fanfiction #Captain America Fanfiction #Bucky Barnes drabbles #Bucky Barnes Imagines #Bucky Barnes x You Fanficion #Bucky barnes fanfic #MCU fanfiction #Bucky x you #Bucky x y/n #Bucky Barnes smut #Bucky Barnes Angst

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particularemu · 5 years ago

Text

Insanity | A Hwang Hyunjin Series | Part 1

Part: [Prologue] [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Epilogue]

Word Count: 5046

Type: Angst

Warnings: violence, drugs, descriptions of anxiety, panic disorders, fucked up hospitals, a sassy Jinnie boi, and corruption.

Author’s Note: Without further ado, I present part 1 of Insanity. Please understand that I’m no doctor, and I have 0 medical knowledge, so if I make a mistake, shoot me a message and school me so I can fix it :3

Hyunjin’s eyes widened as he stepped off the bus, hand tugging his suitcase behind him. There it was — Rosewood Psychiatric Institution — the medical facility he was going to stay and work in for the next couple of years. Hyunjin would stay longer, but he had strict plans to start his own institution after getting some work experience. Judging by the beautiful landscape — it looked like he picked the right place.

The land rolled smoothly under the thick, luscious grass, the picture-perfect landscape looking as if it was sculpted by the gods. There were several colorful plants and shrubs along the cobblestone path, leading Hyunjin directly to the gates. After being waved through by a couple of nice-looking guards, Hyunjin made his way over to the living quarters for the staff. Thank goodness the way was pointed by various golden signs, otherwise, he’d surely get lost in the big institution made up of several buildings.

Hyunjin’s lips parted in surprise as several sprinklers turned on, watering the beautiful lawn for the first time that morning. Wow… they obviously had a passionate landscaper who thrives on taking care of all these plants. It must take the man (or woman) all day to water the plants, cut the grass, and pull each and every weed out of the landscape.

The institution was incredible. Most mental health facilities he visited during his university years weren’t this large — or as aesthetically pleasing. The boy couldn’t help but gawk at the beautiful architecture.

Hyunjin cursed as his watch beeped, signaling the start of his shift in the next hour. He opened the door to the living quarters, gasping at the luxurious decor coating the walls. This doctor must make loads of money off this place to be able to afford decor this nice. It was nice to know that Dr. Douglas took care of the staff. Hyunjin quickly made his way over to room 108, grateful that he wouldn’t have to drag his suitcase up 3 flights of stairs. Hyunjin tucked his suitcase under the bed, brows creasing when he saw the pure white uniform laying across his bed.

Fuck, he hated white. Of course, he expected he’d have to wear the typical white coat, but usually, he was allowed to wear blue scrubs. Why the hell were they forcing the staff to wear some 1950s style uniform? Oh well. Hyunjin changed into the uniform.

Dr. Douglas must be obsessed with the look of white — Hyunjin assumed because all the rooms were coated with white paint, decorated with white knick-knacks, and beds were made with white sheets and comforters. Hyunjin would have to find a poster or something to go on the wall, or he might have to check himself into the institution.

Hyunjin rushed out the door, checking to make sure it locked before heading over to the main building. From what he could tell on his map, he would be working in the largest building. Hyunjin headed inside, eyes scanning the room for some sign of where he should go.

“Hello, how can I help you, sir?” A kind woman dressed in some 1950s looking nurse uniform caught Hyunjin’s attention.

What is with these old-fashioned uniforms? Maybe they were trying to keep things timeless for those who’ve been in the institution a while? Or perhaps Dr. Douglass just enjoyed vintage things. Either way, Hyunjin thought the uniform choice was odd. Throw some dirt, grime, and blood on them and the uniforms would look like they’re straight from a horror movie.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Hyunjin. It’s my first day. I’m supposed to start today.” Hyunjin couldn’t help but gawk at how clean everything looked. All hospitals should be clean but this — this institution looked as though it was scrubbed top to bottom with bleach. There was no scuff mark, footprint, or speck of dust in sight.

“Ah, Dr. Hyunjin welcome.” A kind-looking man on the other side stepped out. “Come on over.”

Hyunjin squeezed through the door and shook the man’s hand. “Nice to met you Dr?”

“Dr. Henry.” The man smiled at Hyunjin. “We’ve been understaffed for so long. I’m happy they finally have someone to take over the day shift for Miss ______.” Dr. Henry handed Hyunjin a medical chart packed full of your medical history.

Hyunjin’s eyes widened as he scanned the papers. Twenty-five sedations? In just over two months? “Umm, excuse me for asking, but why has she been sedated 25 times in the past couple of months?”

“She is a feisty young thing. If she doesn’t get her way she starts hitting and screaming.” Dr. Henry laughed. “So we typically have to sedate her before she hurts one of the doctors or herself.”

Hmm… That still doesn’t sound right. Hyunjin brushed it off until he spotted an obvious problem in your chart. “Hey, why is she getting a stimulant?” Hyunjin frowned.

“What do you mean?” Dr. Henry leaned over Hyunjin’s shoulder to look at your chart.

Hyunjin pointed to a spot. “It says right here that she’s dealing with intense anxiety, panic attacks, manic, nightmares, and I’m not sure why it says etcetera there, we should be listing all her symptoms.” Hyunjin paused and pointed to another section on her chart. “Then over here, it says she’s taking Adderall — a stimulant.”

“The doctor prescribed it for her ADHD.” Dr. Henry smiled.

Hyunjin pursed his lips. The chart claimed that she had no memory of her life before the institution — and there were no notes stating she was diagnosed with ADHD. “We might want to consider taking her off of it. Stimulants can increase panic episodes. If she’s still having intense panic attacks, why are we still giving her Adderall?” Hyunjin pulled a pen out of his breast pocket. “We should remove that from her list.”

“Don’t do anything yet.” Dr. Henry pat Hyunjin’s shoulder. “The doctor has to approve any prescription changes.”

Hyunjin cocked his head in confusion. They were all doctors… Why did they need to have medication changes approved? All doctors had the ability to prescribe and change prescriptions. Whatever… Maybe it’s just a safety precaution?

“You guys have her on a steroid too.” Hyunjin pointed at your list of medications once more “Betamethasone? What’s she taking that for?”

“You know what? I’m not sure. You’ll have to ask the doctor about that.” Dr. Henry smiled. “I only started working with her recently, so I’m not aware of her entire medical history.”

Okay, is this guy really a doctor? Hyunjin sighed in frustration as he scanned your chart. How could this man be taking care of you, and not even care about your previous medical history? Hyunjin couldn’t help but feel grateful that he was taking over your care. Maybe he could give you a fighting chance.

“Ergotamine? Does she get migraines?”

“I don’t know.” Dr. Henry sighed, crossing his arms in annoyance.

“The reason I’m asking is Ergotamine contains caffeine. Adding prescriptions full of steroids, stimulants, and caffeine is only going to make her anxiety worse. No wonder she’s having such a hard time.” Hyunjin couldn’t help but glare at the man.

“Like I said. Take it up with the doctor.” Dr. Henry snapped. “Why isn’t she getting a selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor?” Hyunjin was baffled. SSRIs are typically given to patients who suffer from panic attacks. The medication prevents serotonin from being absorbed by the nerve cells in the brain. Stabilizing those serotonin levels reduces anxiety and panic. “She should be taking Prozac or Lexapro,” Hyunjin mumbled as he flipped through your chart.

Dr. Henry scoffed. “She doesn’t need an SSRI. The doctor doesn’t like prescribing those unless the patient has gone through a successful therapy session.”

What the fuck equals a successful therapy session?

Hyunjin flipped through your chart, spotting the therapist’s notes over the past few sessions. Sure enough, panic attacks, anxiety episodes, refusal to cooperate, violence — you had it all. Hyunjin decided that he should sit through one of your therapy sessions to see what might be triggering your panic episodes.

“Okay, then give her a serotonin-norepinephrine reuptake inhibitor?” Hyunijn sighed in frustration. “Those prevent the absorption of serotonin and norepinephrine. It’ll calm her down in stressful situations.”

“I know what they do.” Dr. Henry slammed his hand on the counter.

“Okay, then why aren’t you giving her any?” Hyunjin raised his voice as well.

“There aren’t any that are approved by the drug administration jackass.” He scoffed.

“Yes, there is dumbass.” Hyunjin sighed and slipped your medical chart in his bag. “Venlafaxine. If you don’t have any in this hospital you need to get some.”

“We have it, but it’s an SSRI.”

“No, it’s not.” Hyunjin raised his voice and pointed to one of the computers. “It’s an SNRI. Look it up.” He frowned, “Besides, there are so many other options out there for her. You could give her tricyclic antidepressants, monoamine oxidase inhibitors, or beta-blockers instead of letting her suffer.” Hyunjin spat.

“Take it up with the doctor.” The man yelled back in Hyunjin’s face.

Hyunjin leaned forward, piercing eyes glaring at the other man as he crossed his arms. “Fine, I will.”

“First, come meet your patient, then you could see if she’s worth the trouble.” Dr. Henry turned and walked down the hall.

“What?” Hyunjin asked as he followed the man. Everyone is worth the trouble. Even if you were a psycho looking to attack everyone in that hospital, you were a human being. Besides, Hyunjin could imagine you weren’t being treated the best under Dr. Henry’s care — based on the way the asshole was treating him.

“Here she is pretty boy.” Dr. Henry gestured in the room.

Hyunjin’s heart broke at the sight. You were huddled in the corner, arms wrapped around yourself as if it was the only comfort you had in this mental institution. Your room was empty, save for a bed and a thin blanket that probably provided little to no warmth. Your arms were filled with scratches, from what he assumed to be your nails — but in this hospital, there was no telling.

Hyunjin slowly stepped into the room, smiling at you as your big glassy eyes met his. “Hello there,” Hyunjin spoke in a low even voice, hoping to prevent scaring you further. “I’m Dr. Hyunjin, your new caretaker. I’m looking forward to helping you the best I can.”

You quickly got up and stumbled towards the man, tears running down your cheeks as you frantically clawed at his chest. Hyunjin gasped and wrapped his arms around your waist to steady you, heart-shattering when you wrapped your arms around his neck and cried, “Please you have to help me. You have to get me out of here, please.”

Dr. Henry grabbed your arm and practically threw you across the room. “No touching the doctors. Do you want another session in the lightning room?”

You grabbed the bedpost, body shaking as you cried, “No I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

“Hey!” Hyunjin yelled, pushing at Dr. Henry’s shoulders. “That wasn’t necessary, she’s just scared.” He darted to your side, resting his hand on your arm to try and soothe you. You flinched away from his touch, mumbling apologies here and there. “Shh, you did nothing wrong,” Hyunjin whispered.

“What is the lightning room? Is that electroconvulsive therapy? Do you have the right permits to do that?” To say Hyunjin was concerned was an understatement.

“Of course.” Dr. Henry scoffed.

“Why are you using it as a punishment?” Hyunjin raised his brow. “Electroconvulsive therapy is quite beneficial if done right. Do you guys put the patients under with anesthesia?”

Dr. Henry crossed his arms over his chest, eyes filled with pure hatred as he looked at Hyunjin. “No, we mainly use it to get their act straight.”

“So you’re inducing seizures on your patients to get them to stop rebelling?” Hyunjin scoffed. “Smart.”

“Look smartass, I’m just doing my job. If you have a problem with it, take it up with the doctor.” Dr. Henry stormed off, leaving Hyunjin alone with you.

Thank God he’s finally gone.

“Hey, I’m not going to hurt you.” Hyunjin reached his hand out to you, pausing a safe distance away so he wouldn’t frighten you. “When you feel comfortable, I’m right here.” He held his hand out to you, palm facing up, giving you full control over the situation.

You turned to look at the beautiful man, noticing the way his eyes lit up when you made eye contact. He sure was gorgeous. Most caretakers wouldn’t have stayed this long, but Hyunjin stayed in front of you, hand out for you to touch when you were ready. You slowly lifted your shaky hand and gently pressed your fingers into his palm, making Hyunjin smile brightly.

“That’s it.” His voice sounded like heaven to your ears. You felt safe in his presence, even more so when he slowly closed his fingers around yours. God, it’s been months since you’ve felt such a comforting touch. “Will you let me check your vitals?”

You cocked your head to the side, confusion evident in your features as Hyunjin chuckled nervously. “Oh sorry, you might not remember. I’m going to check your pulse, your temperature, your respiration rate, and your blood pressure just to make sure everything’s okay. After all, you did get thrown to the ground and since we don’t know what triggers your panic episodes I want to make sure you aren’t experiencing any symptoms of anxiety or panic which could be increased heart rate, temperature and —” Hyunjin paused a second. “Sorry, I’m rambling. I do that a lot. I’ll just check your temperature.” Hyunjin pulled a thermometer out of his bag and placed it in your mouth, hand resting on your forehead for a second to make sure you didn’t feel abnormally warm.

You found the gentle touch comforting as his hand shifted to rest on the pulse point on your throat. His beautiful lips moved as he counted, eyes fixed on his watch. You couldn’t help but notice the beauty mark underneath his eye. That’s not something you see every day — especially in here. It felt like everyone looked the same — well… from the few people, you’ve seen during your various attempts to escape this godforsaken place. You flinched when Hyunjin pulled out his stethoscope, which didn’t go unnoticed by the ebony-haired beauty.

“You look like you’re breathing fine.” Hyunjin smiled softly as he shoved the stethoscope back into his bag. “Why don’t we skip that for now.” Hyunjin pulled the thermometer out of your mouth and smiled at the results. “Good. It’s normal.”

You sighed in relief and pulled your sore body up off the floor, plopping on the bed so you could rest. Hyunjin stood up and scanned your knees, noticing the bruises already starting to form. He couldn’t just sit there and let these damn people hurt you like this. “I have a couple of things I need to talk to your doctor about. Will you be okay here?” Hyunjin smiled when you nodded. “Awesome. I won’t be long.”

Hyunjin slowly closed the door behind him before rushing down the hallway to Doctor Douglas’s office. He was only here an hour and he feels like he’s starting all sorts of trouble. The hospital was filled with incompetent doctors — or so he assumed judging by the information in your chart. And then there was Dr. Henry…

Hyunjin nearly opened the door to the doctor’s office when a woman stepped in front of him. “Doctor Douglas is busy now sir. Please come back later.”

Of fucking course. “I’m so sorry miss.” Hyunjin smiled. “He called me down here, so I thought I’d come right away. It sounded urgent.”

“Oh, I must be mistaken. Go right ahead.” The woman moved out of the way and sat back down at her desk, obnoxiously typing a response to an email.

Wait, that actually worked?

Hyunjin quickly slipped into the office before she could see the victorious grin on his face. He frowned when he turned around, spotting Dr. Douglas sitting in his chair, playing a random game on his phone. Yeah, okay he was real busy.

“Welcome Hyunjin!” Dr. Douglas beamed. “I was hoping you’d make it here okay. I trust the drive up wasn’t too bad?”

“Thank you, sir. The drive was fine.” Hyunjin shook Dr. Douglas’s hand. “Pardon me for intruding, but I have a few questions about my patient.”

“I expected a few.” Dr. Douglas laughed. “Why don’t you introduce yourself first?”

Hyunjin ignored Dr. Douglas’s request and pulled out your chart. “After. This is urgent. You have my patient on Adderall, Betamethasone, and Ergotamine, all three are known to have anxiety and panic episodes as a side effect.” Hyunjin paused, wracking his brain for information. “There was this case study a few years ago —”

“Hyunjin please.” The doctor gestured for him to stop. “Why don’t we get to know each other first?” He chuckled. “I’m Dr. Douglas. I’m sure you know that I run this hospital, considering I was the one who hired you.”

“Yes,” Hyunjin shook his hand. “But sir, we —”

“Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin sighed dramatically, feeling like a two-year-old ready to throw a tantrum. He felt like his childish nature was justified, considering no one in this damn hospital seemed to care about your condition.

“I’m Dr. Hwang Hyunjin. I was top of my class at Southfield University and I dedicate my time helping my patients.” Hyunjin’s brows creased as he shoved your chart forward. “The one I have now needs help and I need you to approve some things so I can help her.” Hyunjin’s eyes hardened as the Doctor laughed, acting as if none of this was a problem.

“Prestigious school Mr. Hwang.” Dr. Douglass sighed and looked at your chart. “What do you need approved?”

“I want to take her off all the excess medication and put her on Prozac. I believe the mixture of Adderall, Betamethasone, and Ergotamine is making things worse for her. She’s already dealing with so much in an unfamiliar place — so let’s put her on Prozac and see if it helps.”

“And what will Prozac do that Venlafaxine won’t?” Dr. Douglas’s eyes bore into Hyunjin’s, making the boy nervous.

“E-excuse me?” Hyunjin stuttered.

“She’s taking Venlafaxine.”

“Umm, no she isn’t.” Hyunjin panned through her chart and pointed to your list of medications. “She’s getting these six medications, which is way too much for someone without existing health problems.”

“She’s in a mental facility.” Dr. Douglas chuckled. “They are all to help her.”

“Yeah? What does this one do?” Hyunjin pointed to a drug on the list. “Peroproxine?” Hyunjin frowned. “I’ve heard of Proproxen, but that’s an anti-inflammatory drug.”

“Peroproxine is an anti-anxiety medication.” Dr. Douglas stated as if it was common knowledge.

Okay, what? Hyunjin couldn’t stop the obvious annoyance taking over his features. He spends a LOT of his free time researching new and existing medications out there. If there was a drug by the name of Peroproxine, he probably would have known about it. “Why haven’t I heard of it?”

Dr. Douglas laughed. “You’re new in the business son.” Hearing the word ‘son’ come out of that man’s mouth pissed Hyunjin off. “I’m not your son. Please just approve this so I can help her.”

“I can’t do that.” Dr. Douglas sighed. “She’s improved drastically since she started taking those medications. I won’t set her back again. It’s just not humane.” He chuckled.

“Sir, she’s been here six months, and it appears her mental stability has gotten worse. And, Dr. Henry is being violent with her. He threw her to the ground —”

“Hyunjin enough!” The doctor slammed his hand on the desk, startling the boy. “Give her the medications on her list, or you’re fired.”

Hyunjin paled — it was clear he crossed a line.

“I will not have you slandering one of the most trustworthy doctors in this institution. Get back to work.” Dr. Douglas turned in his chair, cutting off the conversation. Hyunjin’s heart dropped as he left the office.

Sure, he could always quit and work somewhere else that wasn’t fucked up, but he couldn’t leave you. Something told him that you shouldn’t be there — that something else was the problem. He sulked down the hallways until he felt someone grab his arm and pull him into one of the Janitor’s closets.

The beautiful man flipped the light switch, allowing the dingy old light swinging above their heads to flicker on. So there was a dirty room in the institution.

Hyunjin scanned the man in front of him, noticing the name tag on his chest that read ‘Minho.’ He could tell Minho worked at the hospital — unless he was a crazy patient who murdered his caretaker and stole the uniform.

“Look, you’re a very beautiful man, but I have to get back to work,” Hyunjin muttered and tried to push past Minho.

“What? No, you dumbass.” Minho paused a moment and smirked, wiggling his eyebrows before saying, “But thank you.” Hyunjin rolled his eyes and tried to push past Minho once more, only to be shoved back against the brooms and mops hung on the wall. Minho blocked the door with his arm. “I’m trying to help you keep your job because someone is looking to get fired.”

Hyunjin sighed. “I don’t want to get fired, I just want to help my patient.”

“I know.” Minho’s mood shifted — a melancholy look replacing his once emotionless expression. “Just listen for a second.”

Hyunjin nodded and leaned back against the wall. “Ok fine, you have five minutes.”

“First of all, I’m older than you so you can fuck off with that attitude.” Minho snapped. “Second of all, you need to stop asking questions.” Minho paused, trying to figure out how to word his next sentence. “Just keep your head down and do your job.”

“How do you know I’m not older?” Hyunjin snickered.

“Dude really?” Minho sighed. “You look fifteen. Out of all that I said, that’s what you decided to comment on?”

Hyunjin couldn’t help but chuckle at the older boy’s expression. “Look, I’d be happy to keep my head down if my patient wasn’t suffering.”

“I know.” Minho paused. “But this hospital isn’t like the others. You have to keep your head down or you’ll be admitted.”

“What?” Admitted to the hospital? That doesn’t make any sense…

A loud scream echoed through the hallway, frightening the two boys. “Fuck… That sounds like it’s coming from my patient’s room. Here take this, it’s her medication. Please tell her to take it.” Minho opened the door and rushed down the hall.

Hyunjin stepped out of the closet and stared at the little plastic cup in his hands. From what he could tell, he had two options. One, he could give you the medicine, keep his job, and allow your mental health to deteriorate until you were clinically insane. Or two, he could simply dispose of the medication and see if you improve. His feet took him to your room, figuring it’d be best to give you the medicine for now and speak to Minho later. Perhaps the older boy could give him more information about you.

From what everyone has told him, you were a pain in the ass to deal with. Hyunjin just saw a girl who was confused and scared. He couldn’t imagine you being violent and deliberately trying to hurt someone.

Hyunjin opened the door, smiling sadly when he saw you curled up underneath the thin blanket. “Hey, it’s time for your medicine.”

“Don’t want it.” You mumbled into the blankets, turning your back to Hyunjin.

“I don’t blame you...” Hyunjin trailed off.

You turned to look at him, eyes wide with surprise. Usually, the caretakers would hold you down and force the pills down your throat. They didn’t have any mercy at this hospital — they’d do whatever it takes to get you to take your pills.

Hyunjin chuckled at your surprise and slid the pills into his bag. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.”

There was something about that smile of his that made you feel like you could trust him. Hyunjin wasn’t forcing you to take anything, he seemed genuinely concerned for your mental health, and he was treating you like a real human being.

“Can I sit next to you?” His soft voice shook you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah.” You sat up in bed, giving him space to sit beside you.

Hyunjin stayed silent, trying to think of questions he could ask you. He needed to know more about your medication and how you feel after taking them, but he didn’t want to trigger any painful memories. “Do you feel anxious after you take the medication?”

You thought about it for a minute before nodding. “It comes out of nowhere. I’m usually fine until I have to take my medicine during the day.”

Okay, so the medication is definitely giving you anxiety. Was it the mixture of Adderall, Betamethasone, and Ergotamine, or was it that new drug… Peroproxine?

“Are you feeling anxious right now?” Hyunjin asked in a low voice.

You nodded before mumbling. “A little bit. I don’t know you very well.”

“I’m so sorry, I completely forgot to introduce myself.” Hyunjin chuckled. “Would you like me to tell you a bit about myself?”

You nod, noticing the way Hyunjin smiled at your answer.

“Well, I’m Dr. Hwang Hyunjin. I graduated at the top of my class from Southfield University.” He paused. “My father committed suicide when I was young, so I decided that I was going to study psychology so I could help people struggling with depression. Then I discovered that the medical side of psych would give me the ability to prescribe and help those at a medical level.” Hyunjin chuckled nervously. “You probably don’t want to know about all that though.”

“No, I don’t mind.” You smiled. “I hear about how crazy I am day-in and day-out, so it’s refreshing to hear about someone else.”

Hyunjin frowned. “Do they not give you time to socialize?”

You tucked your hands underneath your thighs, “Well, I get to talk to my therapist. The caretakers don’t like us to socialize with other patients. They said that we could get crazy ideas or something.” You frowned. “I don’t really remember.”

“That’s not normally how things work.” Hyunjin pursed his lips.

“Yeah?” You cocked your head to the side. “How do they normally work?”

“Typically you live in a room with a roommate — someone with a similar mental illness...” Hyunjin trailed off. “But you’d also have meals with the other patients and usually there’s a rec room where you guys can play games and chat.”

You bounced on the bed, eyes filling with excitement as you grabbed Hyunjin’s arm. “We have the gardens!”

Hyunjin couldn’t help but smile at your excitement. “The gardens?”

“The doctor likes pretty things, so he has a big garden in the back of the asylum filled with all sorts of flowers. He has some exotic ones in there that smell really good.” You smiled brightly. “I like to go see the pretty flowers, but we aren’t allowed without our caretakers. Dr. Henry would never go with me.”

So Dr. Henry was your old caretaker... Why did that asshole lie about not knowing your information? He’ll have to look into that later.

“I’ll take you to the gardens as often as you want. I love to look at flowers.” Hyunjin smiled. “Actually do you want to go now?”

You smiled sadly and shook your head. “I’m feeling tired. I want to sleep.”

“That’s fair. You’ve had a big day so far.” Hyunjin smiled. “Can you answer one more question for me?”

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips when you saw Hyunjin’s boyish grin.

“Thank you. You’re such a big help.” Hyunjin rested his hand on yours. “Do you remember how you got here?”

You closed your eyes, thinking about it for a moment. This was the question you’ve been asked every single day over the past six months. You never had an answer. Your brain only showed you flashes of a van and your cries for help, but the whole memory was foggy and unclear.

Hyunjin paled when he felt your hand shake underneath his. “Hey, hey it’s okay.” He rubbed soothing circles on your back, smiling when you opened your eyes.

“I’m so sorry I don’t remember.” You panicked, tears running down your face. “Please don’t tell them I’m not cooperating. I’m trying my hardest.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Hyunjin’s eyes widened when you crawled into his lap, head resting on his chest as you sobbed. His heart completely shattered with every tear that ran down your face.

He couldn’t imagine being in your position. Everyone at the hospital sucks, you weren’t allowed to talk to anyone, you were being given horrible medication, and to top it off, you had no one you could trust. Hyunjin felt honored that you trusted him enough to be this close to him on the first day.

“Your missing memories aren’t your fault.” Hyunjin ran his fingers through your hair, noticing the way you melted into his touch. “Some stressful experiences are so traumatic, the memories hide in the back of your brain like a shadow. So they can’t be consciously accessed. There are exercises and treatments we could do to retrieve those memories, but for now, I think it’s best that we get to know each other a bit more.”

“I don’t feel safe here.” You sniffled and nuzzled into his chest.

“You shouldn’t.” Hyunjin rubbed your arm, brows creasing as he tried to figure out his next move.

The door slammed open— the loud noise startling the two of you as Minho ran into the room.

“Hyunjin! There’s an emergency. I need your help.”

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romansrace · 4 years ago

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Season 13 Sassy Reviews: Episode 02 - Condragulations

Oh mama. This one didn’t do anything to address the strangely - and unnecessarily - tense atmosphere, and instead actively stirred the pot with bizarre remarks from Tina, Kandy and LaLa, and our first (but surely not last) instance of blatant producer favour.

Let’s get into it.

So episode 2 opens with the Porkchop girls being forced to *actually*, no gag, vote off one of their own people based just off of first impressions. Because...what we really needed in 2020/21 was for a group of marginalized people who had had their income and culture taken away for six months to, on first meeting nationwide-reaching colleagues who could become friends and found family, to be instead forced to create divisions between themselves. Really?

So the group votes out the kooky queen and the queen wearing the least feminine clothing, and then when it comes down to a re-vote on just those two...production makes all the queens vote again until a sacrifice is chosen. Seriously unpleasant stuff. Rosé, the queen who objects most virulently to this, is painted as haughty and self-important by the edit for...literally raising valid concerns and trying to stand up for the group. So I guess our hopes of the show moving on from having a vendetta against Jan and any of her friends are crushed just like that.

Then we cut over to the ‘winner’ group of queens. Production-influenced or not, they spend a LOT of the episode crowing and boasting about how brilliant they are, after all, they’ve all made the massive achievement of.... being voted by Ru to win a lipsync in the previous episode, including some VERY questionable performances.

The BIG TWIST that no-one could have seen coming is that... gasp, MAYBE the 7 eliminated queens weren’t actually eliminated on day one of a show that hasn’t had less than 9 competitors ever. And then the queen the losing girls voted out, Elliott with 2 Ts, is introduced to join the winning girls.

As I said in my previous review, it feels really bizarre in the same season that every second word out of Ru’s mouth is chicken soup for the soul about self-love and how actually they’re all winners, to actively go out of your way to split girls into two groups, one of Losers and one of Winners, in which the Winners get smoke blown up their ass about how they are better, and kind of reinforced by the show by focusing on them and only them in episode 2. Especially if they’re going to just proceed to do a split premiere group challenge LIKE THEY DID IN THE LAST SEASON without needing an arbitrary way to justify dividing the girls.

Anyway, the dolls have exactly the same mini and maxi as E1/2 of S12, which... I’m not sure how I feel about. Obviously everyone really enjoyed it in season 12, but a straight redo feels lazy.

Mini-challenge: present two runway looks with a loosely connected theme. Maxi: perform a RuMix with original verses to a new Ru song. Runway theme: a material.

So onto the mini first. All of the queens do broadly as well as each other, with - to my eye - Gottmik being head and shoulders above the group nailing both runways, Olivia Lux’s day look being the second best look on the runway, Tina Burner doing the most impressive bodywork out of the group on her night look, managing to compress her substantial body into a tiny vinyl-latex-esque miniskirt and tube top, and Symone being wildly overpraised for simply having a slim and fit physique that she decorated with material, a la Courtney Act from S6 or Naomi Smalls from S8. Brace yourselves, because this won’t be the first time.

The maxi challenge is a hot mess. The song isn’t great, and the queens take wildly varying approaches in terms of style, genre, and tempo. If you thought Roxxxy Andrews’ random singing on Read U Wrote U was out-of-place... for Condragulations (providing an episode title drop) by my count, three queens give us a rap, two queens sing, one queen gives us spoken word and one queen (Gottmik) gives us literally two bars as an intro.

And onn that note, there’s a bizarre production moment during the rehearsals for the performance in which a moment in which Gottmik experiences gender dysphoria, for including his gender identity in his verse - “I was born a girl” (which, in itself... is that really how a trans person would self-describe rather than e.g. AFAB? I kind of feel like I don’t know how I feel about that line going out to a straight audience) - is represented as Gottmik not having any idea that the other queens would hear his verse. In a group challenge. Where the challenge is to each perform a verse of the same song, as a group, in front of each other. Ok Henny.

The choreography is not great in the challenge, with the best performance of the group going imo to the underrated Elliott, who is, of course, a dancer. Despite the fact that Tina Burner, having lipsynced against her in E1, was well aware of this, Elliott was shut out of the choreography discussion by the other girls - who throughout the episode gave Elliott the cold shoulder & even, bizarrely accused her of being a spy! - for who, QAnon?? Elliott, not wanting to rock the boat, kept quiet, only to go on to NAIL her own performance with a jump split and impressive, confident verse, with dance elements throughout.

So naturally she wasn’t put in the top 2 for the episode, despite everything in the storyline pointing to the ONLY REASON you would separate the queens into winners and losers and then bring back a loser would be for a redemption (RuDemption?) arc. Nope!

The top 2 queens are of course...Olivia Lux, who to be fair, performed her socks off in the challenge and wisely wore an outfit that accentuated her movement, and...Symone. Again. Who wore this.

Whose verse consisted of a walk to the center of the stage and pretty poor lyrics and vocal (”the ebony enchantress...is me” is giving Mariah in all the worst ways). Who looked a little manic during the performance. But who - like Ru - is tall, slim, and statuesque. Anyone else getting S2/S3 flashbacks?

Off the bat let’s make something clear. I don’t dislike Symone. I think she’s a fierce queen, I think she definitely won the top 2 lipsync, I think she’s an excellent lipsync performer, and she has a great body and a great swagger as a drag queen. And I know she can do flips and acrobatics if it calls for it - look for yourself on youtube.

But I think favoritism drags the show down, and ESPECIALLY - as we saw in S12, too - when applied to queens like Symone who are ALREADY among the strongest of the group. Let’s face it, on skill alone, Symone is likely to pick up at least 3 wins of the 11 weeks of this contest. So why stack the deck by giving her an early 4th?

Olivia Lux, the other top 2 queen, performed decently in the lipsync, but was perhaps a bit literal with the lyrics. Her runway gown was highly praised by the judges, but for me was on the simpler side, although she definitely sold it with her walk and attitude. All other queens were given an equal Safe this week which... may or may not have been used to shield the worst performers overall this week, Gottmik and Kandy, who were unsure of themselves during the performance and made a few slips.

I’m ending this week as I ended the last one - wary, but hopeful. After such a focus on how entitled and unpleasant the Winners were in this episode, perhaps the next episode will cast the Losers in a more sympathetic light. My favorite and second-favorite queen, Tamisha, and Denali, are in that group, and I’m hoping to get good confessionals and meme-worthy moments from them if nothing else. And also, I’d hope that this team have bonded and will give a better performance as a group as a result. Although the threat to eliminate one of them next week given by Ru at the end of this one seems like insult to injury in terms of creating division.

Was S12 a fluke? Will S13 be another S11? Will I start genuinely liking any of this? Be here next week to find out~ xoxo

#romansrace #rpdr13 #shady reviews #rupauls drag race season 13 #rupauls drag race #drag race reviews #gottmik #olivia lux #elliott puckett #elliott with 2 ts #sassy reviews #2021 #rpdr 13

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awyeahitssam · 5 years ago

Text

Ella!EnchantedAU - Stiles has the curse of obedience.

Scott smiled, taking his hand.

Stiles pulled him to his feet.

The next three words the floppy-haired boy says make Stiles’ faint smile falter completely.

“Be my friend.”

...

Thing is, Stiles could have chosen to hate Scott McCall. Some days, he very nearly did.

But Stiles was compelled to be Scott’s friend. If they didn’t speak for a few days, Stiles would begin to get painful hand spasms until he at least attempted to contact the other boy. By the third day -- Stiles enjoyed nothing if not knowing the limits of his curse -- Stiles’ body moved automatically, typing out messages or walking to Scott’s house without his consent.

Stiles wasn’t a very kind child, but he never turned his acidic tongue on Scott.

After all, even to people he liked Stiles was kind of a dick.

But when Scott said ‘let’s be friends,’ it seemed like the curse defined the word by Scott’s idea of ‘friends’ rather than Stiles.

That turned out to be a rather good thing, because Stiles was fiercely loyal and protective. Scott… wasn’t.

...

“Behave, Stiles,” the Sheriff would snap, and Stiles would.

“Just make dinner tonight, son.”

“Tell me the truth.”

...

Stiles glanced around, trying to come up with something that didn’t have him keeping the oversized manchild afloat for another hour and keep an eye on the Kanima at the same time.

Whiskey eyes landed on his phone.

Scott.

Derek followed his gaze, scowling harder than ever. “Don’t—“

Stiles dropped him before Derek could finish the order, swimming to the phone.

In the end, Scott was no help.

...

“You’re going to tell me where Derek is.”

Stiles grit his teeth. Like hell.

“Why would I help you?”

Peter stared at him for a long moment, eyes half-lidded. The mad glint has dimmed to something pitless. Hollow. Stiles didn’t trust it.

“Because I’m ordering you to.”

Stiles feels his heart rate pick up, his breaths quicken, his palms start to sweat. He swallows through a dry mouth.

Peter knows.

He knows.

But he hadn’t actually ordered yet.

As if hearing the thought, Peter goes on.

“Find Derek for me.” Stiles remains still, staring Peter down, eyes condemning for the first time. There’s a vicious fury rising in his chest, wild and uncontainable. The last time Peter dealt with fire, it hadn’t ended well for him.

“Find Derek Hale as quickly as you possibly can,” the man modified, gazing back at him calmly.

Specificity. Stiles’ worst enemy. He’s good at getting off on technicalities, at disobeying the spirit of an order while still completing it, but even half-mad Peter’s too smart for that.

Stiles’ body turned on autopilot. He snatched the laptop from Peter’s hands and swiftly logged in. He pulled up the browser with a keyboard shortcut and hacked into the wifi of the building next to them in a few short keystrokes.

He had the tracking information off Scott’s phone inside two minutes.

Peter looked at him, looked at the results, and smiled.

...

“He’s going to kill me!” She shrieks. “You can’t let him hurt me, Noah, you’ve got to protect me—“

Claudia might be having one of her good days, and then she’ll get a glimpse of her son and have an episode. Stiles notices, of course he does, and tries to stay away. But he loves his mother. He wants to be there whenever he can, whenever she’s lucid.

She’s the only one that knows about the curse. That knows him completely, and adores him whenever she can still recognize that he isn’t plotting to kill her.

On May 19th, Claudia looks at Stiles with tired eyes and says, “Kill me.”

It all makes a sudden, horrible sort of sense.

Claudia had known, had probably decided long ago, that Stiles would be the one to end her suffering.

Frontotemporal dementia doesn’t kill.

So Stiles does it for the disease.

...

“Team Free Will,” Dean Winchester says from the laptop speakers.

Stiles laughs so hard he cries.

...

He asks him.

It’s something that eats at Stiles, even after the man is dead and buried.

Peter didn’t give Scott a choice, and he could’ve easily taken away Stiles’. Instead, he asked.

And Stiles--well.

Being a werewolf changed you fundamentally. Stiles was willing to bet that even your DNA was altered.

He counted on it being enough.

It wasn’t.

He flashes preternatural blue eyes at himself in the mirror, a snarl curling his lips.

Hates just that much harder.

...

“Shut up!” Isaac shouted.

Stiles mouth clicks. Isaac looks surprised, but he smells of terror at whatever Stiles’ face is doing. Stiles bares human teeth at him and the boy’s pulse jumps. Isaac sneers, all bravado.

Stiles leaves before he wets himself.

...

Orders can counteract each other.

Sometimes, when Stiles really don’t want to do something, he’ll manipulate somebody into telling him to do the opposite.

The first time they’re alone, after, Peter looks at Stiles and says, “You don’t have to be friends with Scott McCall.”

A knot in Stiles mind relaxes, and then releases entirely. Stiles thinks of Scott, thinks of him without the shiny order that made him remember the good more than the bad.

He doesn’t hate Scott, though by now he had more than enough reason to.

But Stiles finds he doesn’t like him, either.

The black and white naïveté, the self righteousness, the way he ordered everyone around nowadays and Stiles was forced to comply.

Stiles stands abruptly, heart beating too-quick in his chest.

Stalks forward, staring intently into the preternaturally-blue eyes of Peter Hale. The man looks almost wary until Stiles leans forward, sets a hand on his shoulder, and drags it down the line of his arm.

Scent marking him.

“Thank you,” he acknowledges, and it comes out a pleased rumble, octaves lower than his usual register.

Peter blinks at him once, then quirks an eyebrow. He smells delighted and a bit astonished.

Stiles grins, eyes glowing.

“I’m leaving,” he says lightly, half an offer.

“Am I to presume that’s an invitation?”

Stiles flashes his fangs. “Presume away.”

He turns on his heel.

Peter follows.

...

Stiles’ life has never been simple, and that doesn’t change with Peter as a packmate.

Once, they stop mid-hike and Stiles peers over the cliff. There’s a few minutes of peaceful silence, and Stiles is enjoying the nature in a way he never had before, eyes closed, breeze fluttering through his growing hair.

He smiles. Steps that bit closer to the edge, enjoying the feeling of lightness and freedom.

Then hears, “Never kill yourself.”

Stiles feels the order snap into place. It is disproportionately light in comparison to the sensation of his stomach dropping out.

It’s the first order Peter has given him since that night in the parking garage.

Stiles digs claws into his skin hard enough that he begins bleeding freely, and slowly turns to Peter.

There’s a glimmer of apology in his eyes, but something in his scent betrays him. Maybe he’s genuinely apologetic for betraying Stiles trust, but he doesn’t regret the order.

Stiles snarls. His wolf whimpers and snaps in his mind, wanting to turn tail and bite into Peter’s neck at the same time. Stiles feels his teeth elongate to fangs and pulls his eyes from blue, staring over the cliff once again.

The view doesn’t seem half as beautiful as it had moments ago.

It wasn’t like Stiles wanted to kill himself. If he did, he would have a long time ago. But having that option--

“How dare you,” he whispers to the open air. He’s too furious to look at Peter, too hurt to address him directly or acknowledge that this level of self-righteousness in the air could give Scott a run for his money.

“I don’t mean to hurt you,” Peter says.

Truth.

It almost makes it worse. Stiles bares his teeth.

“I decided to trust you,” he says. “And you just spat on it. Pack doesn’t betray pack.”

Peter meets his gaze steadily. He looks wary, but he doesn’t say anything in his defense.

Stiles wants to rage at him, wants to use words to cut into that calm facade until he bleeds. ‘You and your niece are very alike,’ he almost says, but Stiles isn’t that hasty.

Isn’t that cruel, though he wants to be.

“What if hunters capture me? Torture me? What if I go mad from it? I don’t even get the option of biting off my own tongue now, Peter?”

“I would come for you,” the man says quietly.

Stiles roars.

Peter’s eyes widen, and he takes a short step back before standing his ground. He smells concerned and surprised, but not apologetic.

“Don’t follow me,” he snaps, shaking with the urge to destroy.

Stiles is a very angry individual.

Having no say will do that to you.

...

“Take it off,” Stiles snarled, pulling Peter’s hair harshly.

The man met his gaze, blue eyes dazed and dilated. Then, after another long moment of staring, shook his head.

“Can’t lose you,” he rasped from between fangs. “I won’t.”

Stiles’ laugh edged on manic. “You already have, you fool.”

When Peter woke in Deaton’s shop four days later, Stiles was long gone.

...

There have been moments.

Moments when Stiles was absolutely certain he was about to die.

Like when Jackson sneered, “Kill yourself,” and Stiles’ hands found the closest sharp object and aimed it unerringly at his carotid artery. Like when his dad—

Well. He tries not to think of his dad.

But somehow this—emotion—is harder to manage. The level of betrayal that can only mean he trusted Peter in the first place.

Stiles’ world crashed down on a pleasant autumn day during a walk with his packmate.

And the ruins continue to burn for a while yet.

...

“As you can imagine, I don’t like people taking away my ability to choose,” he says, almost lightly. “When I was nine my mother made me kill her. When I was twelve my dad almost killed me by saying something careless when he was drunk. I was forced to be Scott’s friend for eleven years.”

“None of them set out to hurt me,” Stiles acknowledged. “But they all did. I trusted each one of them, and they came so close to tearing apart the fundamentals of who I am.”

Stiles’ eyes blazed red when he turned to Peter.

“You know that kid who never did anything he was told? That’s who I am inside. The only person I should have to answer to is myself, but that was taken away from me a very long time ago.” Stiles sighs warily. He suddenly looks far older than his twenty-two years. “You’re the first person I willingly offered my trust to in years, and you shattered it. And you weren’t sorry, not really, or at least not until later, when you realized what it cost you.”

Peter swallowed heavily. He smelled tired, and very, very sad. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice little more than a rasp. “I am, Stiles. You can kill yourself. You can do anything you want. I’m sorry.”

Stiles huffed a laugh, not sounding very amused at all, and Peter felt a displacement in the air just as Stiles appeared in front of him, red eyes boring down into his blue.

“You think I would return before breaking the curse?” he said wonderingly. “I trust no one that much, Peter.”

Peter swallowed heavily, awaiting the inevitable blow. He bared his neck, just a bit, even knowing what was coming.

Peter jerked when a cold nose brushed against his neck, rubbing up the line of his carotid. He felt like his heart was in his throat, jumping wildly and very audibly.

“You…”

“I,” Stiles agreed, more than a touch mockingly. He sighed at whatever look was on Peter’s face at that, and pulled him in closer. “You’re an idiot. I can do whatever I want now, Peter.”

Peter shifted as fingers combed through his hair. Peter made a strange sound, a mix between a purr and an engine revving. “I love you, though.”

Peter stared at him.

“Oh.”

Stiles huffed a laugh, leaning forward to brush their cheeks together. Scenting.

“And here I thought I was choosing such an intelligent packmate,” he said, more fond than mocking this time. When he pulls back the smile in his voice is gone, his eyes back to their normal honeydew. “Don’t think my loving you will change anything, Peter. Betray me again and I will rip your throat out.”

Peter whines, high and embarrassing. Stiles makes a low, rumbling noise in response and leans in, kissing his forehead lightly.

“And I’ll rip out the throat of anybody who threatens you, of course.”

The noise subsides, and Peter sighs, smelling content, confused, aroused. Stiles soaks in the scent without any intention of remedying the confusion for a while yet.

The arousal, however, he can do something about.

#steter #ella enchanted au #stiles/peter #peter/stiles #werewolfstiles #turned stiles #creature stiles #the gift of obedience #snippets #probably not something I'll ever finish #it's been gathering dust for a while #disjointed

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variantia · 4 years ago

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HEADCANON // YOON BUM.

Characteristics of borderline personality disorder / emotionally unstable personality disorder that Bum tends to exhibit.

Borderline personality disorder ( BPD ) / emotionally unstable personality disorder ( EUPD ) is a mental illness, often something that’s lifelong, which manifests with symptoms of unstable relationships, intense emotional reactions, a warped sense of self, and other long-term patterns that are often harmful or self-destructive. Bum ( in my interpretation, at least ) is affected by BPD in several different ways.

There are characteristics or symptoms of BPD that are possibly also explainable by the C-PTSD ( complex post-traumatic stress disorder ) that he also suffers from, but brief descriptions of characteristics that are probably a result of BPD, which affect Bum in his daily life, are outlined in the bullet points below. Read on if you think it may help you understand and interact with him more easily, or if you’re simply interested in how his mind works !

SPLITTING : Bum often views the world in black and white terms. People fall into vague categories like good or bad, kind or cruel, just the same to him as people might fall into specific categories like tall or short. Cognitive behavioral therapy is helping him break these thinking patterns, but it’s a process and he still falls into those things sometimes. When confronted with two opposing traits existing in the same person, such as a cruel person being kind occasionally, it’s difficult for him to accept that one person can be both. If that happens, he usually defaults to the first category his mind decided they were. For this reason, he can appear very stubborn and set in his ways and like he doesn’t want to change, when he does, and his mind just has a lot of difficulty reconciling the positive and negative.

INTENSE OR DISPROPORTIONATE EMOTIONAL REACTIONS : Bum seems to feel or express his emotions in a way that seems like an overreaction to most people. He’s depressed instead of sad, manic instead of happy, furious instead of irritated ; his emotions frequently jump to the extreme end rather than starting out mild and building up to the extreme. If someone does something nice for him that is very small, i.e. perhaps letting him go in front of them in a grocery store line, he feels as if it’s a huge gesture that he should be incredibly grateful for, even if it wasn’t that big a deal. Conversely, if something slightly bad happens, i.e. he’s late for an appointment, he feels as if he’s an inconsiderate person who can’t keep track of time, even if he’s on time on every other occasion. The medication he’s on is aimed at ‘ turning down ’ his emotions so he doesn’t react as intensely to things that don’t merit an intense reaction, but just as with his therapy, the medication can only do so much, and intense reactions are definitely something he still experiences, just not as often as if he wasn’t on medication.

FEAR OF ABANDONMENT : Bum is terrified of being rejected and left alone, and will go to extreme lengths to keep it from happening. He, personally, wouldn’t go so far as forcing someone to stay with him, but he will absolutely make promises about being better, being whatever the other person wants him to be, begging them not to leave him alone, to the point of probably accidentally manipulating their emotions. It’s not a conscious decision to make them feel bad for leaving or not wanting to be in his life anymore, but rather he truly feels like he’s not worth anything on his own. Predictably, most people don’t enjoy being put in that position, so it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy in that the more he begs and promises, the more most people will want to leave.

UNSTABLE RELATIONSHIPS : Bum often gets very attached, very quickly, to anyone who shows him kindness. He has trouble maintaining relationships with other people because he wants all of their attention, and is very sensitive to what he perceives as rejection. If the other person says that they’re busy and can’t be with him right now, but they will later, all he seems to process is the first part. He feels as if they don’t care about him or don’t want to make time for him. This can lead to him treating them with anger, such as giving them the cold shoulder or saying things he doesn’t mean to them. Once the fight is over, he will usually apologize ... but he often expects an apology from them, too. It also happens that he seems to move very quickly in a relationship ; saying “ I love you ” within the first few weeks of a romance, calling someone his best friend after maybe a month, etc., which typically scares a lot of people off. Dialectical behavioral therapy is helping with improving his relationships, but these issues will almost certainly still crop up from time to time in any relationship he has.

DISSOCIATION : Bum will sometimes ‘ zone out ’, but in a more extreme way than daydreaming. His mind and his body experience a disconnect, and when this happens, he seems to be staring off into space. It takes effort to make him respond, to the point that it might be worrisome to those around him. This will sometimes happen during extremely negatively emotional moments, where Bum will dissociate completely from himself, his mind’s effort to avoid the physical and emotional pain which comes with strong reactions. He describes it as a sort of “ empty ” feeling, like he’s suddenly ceased to exist for a few moments, like his whole being is filled with static, like he has no idea what’s happening to or around him, before he suddenly snaps back to awareness. He seems numb immediately following an episode of dissociation, but he’s actually often distressed by it and doesn’t like the feeling.

SELF-DESTRUCTIVE OR RECKLESS BEHAVIOR : most of the time, Bum’s self-destruction takes the form of things like self-harm. His typical method is cutting, usually along his arms, sometimes on his legs. It’s not something he engages in daily or even weekly, monthly. It is, however, something that when it happens, he does it several times within a short period. He may make several cuts a few times a day for several days, then not again for months. It depends. Doing this causes his brain to give him a rush of endorphins to combat the pain, and that makes him feel ... good for a moment. Then he feels guilty that he hurt himself, and wants to feel good again, and it becomes a cycle of addiction to his own hormones. Again, it’s not a ‘ regular ’ thing he does, but it does happen. Other things he does are to engage in risk-taking - things like crossing the street without looking to see if a car is coming that might hit him, or going out in the rain for long enough that he’s almost guaranteed to get sick. When he comes out on the other side of those things still alive and relatively okay, boom, rush of adrenaline that makes him feel good. Therapy and medication are helping a lot with these behaviors, but he does still fall into them occasionally, especially when he’s experiencing a lot of stress, needs to feel in control of something, or is attempting to cope with an intense emotion where his healthier coping mechanisms haven’t helped. He’s attempted suicide in the past because of emotional pain, and still sometimes has those ideations in his head, particularly as intrusive thoughts when things are actually going well for him.

POOR SENSE OF IDENTITY AND SELF-IMAGE : Bum doesn’t truly know how to describe himself to others, and doesn’t think he’s really worth much. He thinks of himself as having only two big interests ( frogs and sweets ) and the rest of his personality is simply nothing. Often he feels like he’s only ‘ interesting ’ when he’s with someone else. When asked to pick a few words to describe himself or a few things he enjoys, he will struggle with doing so to the point that he might break down in tears because he feels like he doesn’t know who he is. He’s working hard on discovering himself, but it’s a long, slow process that involves steps such as trying new things, which is very scary to him.

Bum is a man who has a lot of issues, and even though he’s working on trying to put the pieces of his life together and be healthier, many of the BPD symptoms he experiences will often inform his behavior. It’s a struggle, but he really is trying.

Patience, understanding, and encouragement, coupled with the willingness to not enable or reinforce his unhealthy behaviors, will go a long way in helping maintain a good relationship with Bum ! Be kind to him, but also be willing to stand firm if the situation calls for it. Even if it’s hard and upsets him at first, he appreciates those things, because he knows it will help him in the long run.

#bpd tw #self harm tw #suicide tw #suicidal ideation tw #killing stalking tw #that’s just what I think anyway. ( HEADCANON. )#some days it feels like a wrecking ball is swinging through my ribcage. ( BUM. )#(( w h e w I've wanted to get this post out for a few days #I've done as much research as I can on BPD / EUPD and I still feel I don't /fully/ understand it #but I I understand it insofar as it affects Bum's behavior and thought processes #it fascinates me to get inside his head so deeply even if there are parts which make me slightly uncomfortable #honestly I just thought I should warn anyone who might be interacting with him on a regular basis #that he does have BPD and it affects his behavior quite a bit #just so anyone who thinks about interacting with him in a more intimate capacity for any kind of relationship #whether romantic or platonic #is aware that these are things that may manifest within that relationship because BPD affects Bum's behavior #ty for reading this tho I know it's really long but !! I have fun getting inside his head it's very interesting #I've always been interested in how the mind works and doing research for Bum is very rewarding #it makes me feel like I have a better understanding of the mind in general <3 ))

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imagine-loki · 4 years ago

Text

Atlas, Space: Pluto

TITLE: Atlas: Space

CHAPTER NO./ONE-SHOT: 11/12

AUTHOR: fanfictrashdump

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine narrating episodes of Loki’s life with the Avengers based on the songs from Sleeping At Last’s “Atlas: Space” album.

RATING: T-M

NOTES/WARNINGS: Welcome to my Sleeping At Last’s Atlas: Space challenge, aka Another writing project I do not have time for, but my brain insisted on doing.

This series will be less like a multichapter fic and more of a one-shot compendium, but that they all interconnect in one way or another. It will revolve around Loki and Becca’s relationship (Taking Turns, Glow, Helmet Heists–don’t worry, more Loki-Charlie stuff will be along) and I will use those one-shots as reference to the timeline. Each chapter will be one song, used as inspiration for the story.

Chapter 11: Pluto

Summary: The nightmares still plague Loki at night, but every morning he realizes that he is alive, safe, and with the one person he adores above all else.

Warnings include: Language, maybe? A little sad, but a payout of a very soft, loving Loki. He’s a bit of a dum-dum, but we love him, anyway.

I woke up from the same dream Falling backwards, falling backwards Till it turned me inside out Now I live a waking life Of looking backwards, looking backwards A model citizen of doubt

After a month or so of waking early, enjoying each other’s warmth, and becoming reacquainted, neither Becca nor Loki had any plan on whether or not they needed to tell the remaining heroes that Loki lived. Becca had suggested that maybe the people of New Asgard would be glad to hear he was well, if he so desired to work for a place amongst his people. Loki had offhandedly asked what she would do in New Asgard, should they choose to go. When she said moving there was out of the question for her, he had promptly told her that it was for him, then, as well.

Rebecca had officially retired from Stark, Inc. Pepper had set up a retirement fund for her so comfortable that she could have lived twenty lifetimes off of it. It was too hard to go back and face the world without Natasha, Vision, and Tony. Especially Tony. Loki had offered up a small prayer for the warriors’ safe passage to Valhalla–although he loathed to admit, they were admirable, fierce defenders.

He had not even asked her how she had fared during the Snap, during the war. Something told him that that was one topic he should keep under wraps, if the way she bristled at their mention was any indication.

And so, they just didn’t tell anyone anything.

They lived their quiet, unassuming life together without any oversight. It still made Loki nervous, walking out in the world. He would look over his shoulder and get spooked by spectres his own mind conjured up. To say he was strung a little tight about the whole world was an understatement.

Until one day I had enough Of this exercise of trust I leaned in and let it hurt And let my body feel the dirt When I break pattern, I break ground I rebuild when I break down I wake up more awake than I’ve ever been before

Loki barely choked back the scream at his throat as he shot up in bed. He was covered in cold sweat, the sheets tousled around him as he kicked and struggled through the night. Surprisingly, his shifting had not woken Rebecca up, despite her being a notoriously light sleeper. He supposed their extended hiking trip that morning had worn her out more than he realized, but he was glad she was getting back the stamina she had been known for on the field.

With a deep breath, he wiped the sweat from his brow and tried to blink away the last of the nightmare.

Well, it wasn’t really a nightmare. More of a memory.

In his slumber, he had accidentally slipped through Becca’s mental barriers, something that used to happen quite often when they last dated. However, instead of laughter and warm days filling her memories, it was darkness and pain and hopelessness. His masochistic mind had wandered as far as it was physically possible for him to go, deeper and deeper into the recesses of her mind.

Still I’m pinned under the weight Of what I believed would keep me safe So show me where my armor ends Show me where my skin begins Like a final puzzle piece It all makes perfect sense to me The heaviness that I hold in my heart belongs to gravity The heaviness that I hold in my heart’s been crushing me

He couldn’t believe she was still standing. Even knowing how strong she was–this world, this life; it should have broken her long ago. Instead, she forged ahead and she made every ache and pain the foundation for her next move. Though he was still shaking, he stopped fighting against the pain, instead embracing the ache, just as she had and let it sink into his being and guild his insides in warrior’s gold.

He didn’t stop crying until the sun was up and Becca stirred in her bed.

She rejoined the land of the living all at once, throwing the covers off of herself and scrambling to hold his face in her hands. “Loki, what’s wrong?”

The concern in her voice and in her eyes weighed harder on his chest. He didn’t mean to upset her, but he couldn’t help it. The raw emotions of a full decade were coursing through his veins and while it hurt, it made him feel closer to her than when they had been sharing each other in the night. Every crack and fissure in his semblance was perfectly reflected in hers, but, more importantly, he could see that there was a heart under it. He hadn’t felt his heart beat in a very, very long time. And it beat solely for the reason of making her smile.

I’ve been worried all my life A nervous wreck most of the time I’ve always been afraid of heights Of falling backwards, falling backwards I’ve been worried all my life

Here and now, Thor, Odin, and even Frigga did not matter. While he understood that perhaps they never bore him any ill will, there was glaring holes in the sentiment they had called love and the way they chose to offer it to him. Becca had never put any conditions on how to love him, or what was worth her affections. They were freely given, his for the taking, and foolishly pushed aside because he felt himself unworthy and unqualified. He had been taught that love had to be earned, and that he very rarely made enough of an effort to be worth even a drop. That was a lie. He knew that now.

Becca was shaking him slightly, frantically wiping away tears from his face and asking him questions. He couldn’t tell what she was asking for the roar of blood in his ears was far too loud. From her expression, he knew she was worried, but he couldn’t find it within himself to snap out of his reverie for the simple fact that within in all her memory of pain and disease and suffering, the sound of his name never bore distaste or disgust or hatred. Whenever she spoke his name, it was like a prayer or a conversation they had been having at the dinner table–it had been as if he had never left her, like his love rippled through the universe and echoed into her ear whenever she needed it.

Like a final puzzle piece It all makes perfect sense to me The heaviness that I hold in my heart belongs to gravity

“Oh, my God,” she repeated, now bordering on manic. “Loki! Babe, talk to me, please,” she pleaded. His eyes blinked heavily, brushing away the state of mind he was in, and bright blue eyes cut up to her brown. “Loki, what’s wrong?”

“I love you.” It was so quiet that Becca had half-convinced herself he had not spoken until he did so again. “With every fiber of my being and everything I am. I love you and I have always loved you and I always will,” he declared, his voice raspy from crying. His hands had closed around hers on his cheeks.

Becca frowned. “I-I know that, Loki. I’ve know that for,” she sighs, puffing her cheeks out, “for fucking years. You’re just a moron with a misjudged savior complex.” With a breezy laugh, she bent to kiss him fervently, pulling a contented noise from his throat. “Are you OK?” She whispered against his lips.

The heaviness in my heart belongs to gravity

“Yes. Never better.” He grinned widely before he pulled her legs from under her and caged her under his form, the sound of her giggling echoing against the walls in the early morning hours.

#Loki #Lover #Angst #Others #Submitted fic #submission #atlas space #pluto #chapter 11 #Fanfictrashdump

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msbeccieboo · 5 years ago

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Arrow 8x09 Brain Dump

It was...not all bad. I really want to like this. I love Mia, William and FTA. I want to enjoy BS like I did in S7. I want to see Dinah written consistently with any kind of actual character. Well, at least my love for FTA is still intact 😂😂

Mia

Kat was brilliant in this episode. Her leading lady really jumped out 😂😂 Her emotional moments hit the mark, and I think she juggled her post-Crisis new life with her old memories brilliantly.

We opened on her waking up in the Queen mansion(!), with a very yummy Diggle Jr in her bed, only it’s JJ not Connor 😱😱 She’s also surrounded by adorable family photos, showing that Oliver got his wish of her and William growing up together (and confirmation that the Olicity Love Cabin still existed!) Basically, she’s living the best life that Oliver could have wished for her, without him in it, of course 😭

Probably the most notable change in ‘new Mia’ (other than her being infinitely happier and living in a crime-free city) was her social poise. She’s been brought up in Oliver Queen’s old world, and is quite the socialite, only without any of the haughty frivolity that one might expect (I imagine we have Felicity for that 😍). She loves her life and her friends, and she defends them, especially in the face of Laurel, who seemingly does nothing but scoff at her lifestyle for the whole episode 😒 I loved her addressing the press!! That was pure Queen! Maybe the influence of a certain Aunt Thea?

Source: feilcityqueen

More below the cut…

Basically this Mia is smart and loving and happy, and Oliver gave her a warm and otherwise full life, save for finding her true purpose (which is gonna be vigilanteing, of course). So of course BS and Dinah rock up and upend it all 😂 I really liked how they made the returning of Mia’s memories a source of conflict, as well they should. It was so brutal to just return them with no preamble, to destroy what happiness Oliver had given back to her, just because, what? BS couldn’t complete her own fucking mission? (More of that later lol) Then Mia standing up to BS when she went as far as to mock Mia’s new world, just gave me life!!!

Anyway, with her memories restored, and bad guys to track down, of course Mia couldn’t resist her heroic calling and suited up, then proceeded to be the epic badass that we have grown to love.

Source: kathmcnamara

I loved seeing her struggle with her memories returning, and the guilt that they brought with them of not living up to Oliver’s legacy. At the same time, she appreciates what Oliver did for her, that all he wanted for his family and the city was to be safe and happy. She ultimately decides to remain the Green Arrow, taking up the guard of her city in her father’s memory, to protect the new world that he sacrificed himself to create.

Source: felicityqueen

We’d seen she’d developed her ‘street smarts’ in the flash-forwards, so I think she’ll end up bringing these together with her new social skills, and badass moves, and be an unstoppable force!! Hopefully that will include her old FTA team as well, and not just the two feathered ones 🙄

FTA/JJ

God this needed more FTA.

We got a small amount of William, more of JJ, what with him being Mia’s fiance (!!), and little more than fleeting glances of Zoe (!) and Connor. The disrespect!! 😂

William (who even knows his surname in this new life?) continues to hold my whole heart in his hands 😍😍

Source: oliverxfelicity

LOOK AT HIM!!!!💗💗💗

He seems to have been least affected in terms of his character, post-crisis. It’s implied that he’s running Smoak Tech, and that he and Mia grew up together and are basically each others’ ride-or-dies 😭😍😭

I truly hope if the show is picked up, that they increase the William content by a solid 1000% 😂 He brings so much heart and a certain humour and lightness, just like Felicity brought to Arrow, and Ben is such an amazing actor. The new show will need a William. BADLY. He really seems to have his shit together (in the very limited time we have seen him of course 😒), but I’m hoping that that doesn’t lead to Mia keeping her memories from him for long (although remembering who their Dad is, I’m guessing she could take a while 😂😂).

So JJ proposes to Mia at the beginning of the episode!!!! Apparently they are the love of each others lives here. Dig clearly learned from what Connor told him, and steered JJ away from becoming a murdering gangster...YAY! Although it seems that in doing so, our darling boy Connor ran into a few issues of his own 😫😫 It looks like there is no love lost between him and Mia, that he has been in and out of rehab, and is now somewhat of a bad boy 😏😏 But when they first lock eyes there is still definite history and heat there and, just HJJHDFVGDFK 🔥 BACKSTORY IS NEEDED!! Then at the end, JJ has his memories restored by scary-dude-in-cloak (who I was totally hoping would be Dig or Oliver tbh 😂), so I’m super interested to see how he copes with his dual memories!! So now Mia loves JJ, but knows he was evil and killed Zoe, and she hated Connor, but now remembers they had feelings for each other and that he is a beautiful soul, and all the shit is gonna hit the fan!!! I usually hate love triangles, but this is so exciting, with the good boy/bad boy switch up, and then the opposite memories being returned...YAAAAASSSS!! Although I’d like to make it clear that, whilst I’m going to enjoy the drama getting there, I am firmly in the SmoaknHawke end game camp!!

And as excited as I just got, all of this took up just about 5 mins of screen time 😫😫 It reminds me of what Arrow was lacking in its early episodes...heart and hope. They lucked into it with Felicity/Emily, but they have it here, ready and waiting, and are so far not using it.

Kat knows what’s what. This is the show we deserve.

Birds

There was a lot of bird action. Apparently in shaping a perfect future, Oliver saw fit that Mia never met BS or Dinah...this is why we stan 😂😂 Dinah has also seemingly been erased from the history books 😬, waking up after Oliver’s funeral (😒😭) 20 years in the future, so naturally becomes a bohemian, opens a bar and sings a lot. Cool, I’d probably do the same 😂😂 Laurel, it seems, went off to spend time with Sara, and has apparently become a solo time-traveller, trying to stop 2041 from becoming a really bad year. Righto.

Dinah was actually ok in this episode, if not hugely out of character, but that in itself has been inconsistent throughout the show, so here’s hoping that the zen-filled peacemaker that she was in this episode continues! Dinah’s new-found peace and bearability seemingly comes at the cost of Laurel being utterly awful. She rocked up in the future like Billy Big Bollocks with a huge chip on her shoulder, just sneering her way through the episode. She had such bitterness, disdain and anger directed towards Mia (and Dinah, at times) for no apparent reason, when they seemed to have somewhat bonded previously?! She spent the majority of the episode sauntering around looking down on everyone, portraying a bitchy-tomboy type, deeming anything vaguely typically feminine or not hard-moody-’badass’ as beneath her. This is not #girlpower. Fuck off.

Then we have that clusterfuck of a scene at the exhibition 🙈🙈 where BS tries to tell Mia that she used to date her Dad, before quickly correcting herself to “some version of him, anyway”, as if they were one and the same 🙄 Laurel’s continual need to imply that she knows, or has history with our Oliver is infuriating as hell. E2 Oliver died on the Gambit in his early 20s. Even if he was similar in character to E1 Oliver up until then, that person bears no likeness to the man he became. Her past with her ‘Ollie’ is entirely irrelevant to the man that was Mia’s father, who she barely even got to know at all save for a couple of episodes in S8. And not only the implication that she knew him, but then to actually try to trash him as well, to his kid?! All to push her idea that all versions of people are the same (which was refuted when JJ doesn’t even turn out to be behind the Deathstroke mask anyhow)? NO! At least Dinah and Mia were cringing along with us 😂

It’s just astounding, the turnaround they’ve managed with Laurel/BS. They already did the unthinkable in S7 and got a lot of people from this side of the fandom to empathise and warm to her, without pissing off her existing fans. I really did grow to like her in S7 (check my reviews, I still can’t believe it 😂), she was snarky, but not bitchy, and showed some heart and vulnerability. So it’s mind-blowing how they took all that growth and just obliterated it this season, and then even more so in this episode where she is just plain nasty and unlikeable.

I do think, however, that giving BS and Mia a tempestuous relationship from the off was a good idea, cos let’s face it, you can tell there is no love lost between them. But they could have made them clash in a better way than BS just being an arsehole to Mia for most of the episode. My best guess is her anger comes from Mia coming out of Crisis with a life untouched by violence, whilst her earth was still lost? (Was it? I can’t actually remember if E2 came back.) She can’t complete her self-appointed mission on her own and knows she needs Mia’s help to do it?? I don’t know. She had a lot to say about JJ supposedly being a ‘homicidal manic’...pot, kettle much?! She also seemed to find the notion of Mia initially wanting to just appreciate the peaceful life she had been given and not becoming a vigilante reprehensible, but why? BS is the one that needs to atone for past sins. Mia does not.

Stray thoughts

That cliffhanger!!! WHO TOOK OUR WILLIAM?!?!?!

The music was...not good. Especially during the fight scenes. Arrow was always so on-point with its score. I don’t understand how this can be so bad?! I did like hearing Mia’s theme in there, though, that was a nice tie-in the old flash-forwards.

Who is this Kevin that cheated on William? He must be destroyed!😡

Some of that future make-up was really something 😬😬 2040 is all about the severe/dead and unblended looks, apparently. The fashion was fabulous though!

The dialogue in the action scenes was soooo hammy.

Who is the mysterious, villainous “she”???

“Frack you!” and “I’m not interested in joining your Canary club” YAASS MIA 😂

William and Mia’s “pet rock” talk was super cute 😍

Oliver’s statue!! 😭😭😭

Hopes for the future, if series gets picked up:

Increased focus on Mia/FTA. We have such a fresh, interesting, diverse cast, with intertwined back stories ready to go for this show here already, waiting to be used. USE THEM.

A deadly outbreak of avian flu 😂🙊

Failing said outbreak...keep the birds in the background or MAKE THEM LIKEABLE. This is a chance for a clean slate!

I wanna see Papa Dig so bad. David had said we’d get to see 2040 Dig in Arrow, but looks like that isn’t going to happen now, and I’d just love to see how he is. I can also imagine David being entirely done, and not wanting to be a part of this, however, but a cheeky little cameo would be amazing 😂

SmoaknHawke to RISE 🔥🔥🔥

As it stands, I’ll watch if it goes to series, but for how long remains in question. I just know I cannot get on board with the faux feminist “heart/vulnerability/girly is ‘weak’! Let’s be hard/edgy/angry badasses and fight men and show the world we’re strong pow pow pow” narrative that BS in particular, but also the general tone of the show overall, is trying to portray. I really think that if the show is picked up that they should look to see what is working and what is falling flat on its arse. It’s in dire need of more heart and fewer birds imo, but we can have both, if they’d just write them as better people.

Thank you to the beautiful gif-makers 😘 Any uncredited gifs are mine.

💗💗💗

#Arrow 8x09 #Arrow #Arrow spoilers #Mia Smoak Queen #Green Arrow and the canaries #Arrow Season 8 #beccie's brain

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elixir448 · 5 years ago

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Good Girls 3x03 Thoughts

Right. Well. I’ve kind of been stalling with writing this post just because the fandom is so divided over this episode. This is just my opinion obviously.

Overall, I enjoyed the episode. While I certainly didn’t love certain plot devices that were utilised, I can’t say I necessarily hated them either, which is...interesting.

Opening Scene

Oh my god. OH MY GOD. What an amazing scene. Christina and Manny are FIRE and they killed it!! I have never ever seen two actors with this much on-screen chemistry and I am basically 100% sure that I never will again, which is amazing but also sucks haha.

Rio is just his pettiest, best little shit self in this scene haha. The way he starts just casually asking about her kids and about Jane being the super star forward of the team. I NEED MORE JANE AND MARCUS AS BESTIES RIGHT NOW.

The way Beth just stares at him with those big, blue eyes and then glances away and around them at times. Her terrified, shocked silence. Gosh, Christina managed to convey so much despite only saying two words in the entire scene; she said everything with her face and eyes, her posture and the way her shoulders were set so that she was leaning slightly away from Rio.

The fact that Rio kept the freaking bullets she shot him with, the way he spend a few seconds sorting through them in his hands and knows which one is which, the way he kissed the first bullet. You cannot tell me that he hasn’t had those bullets with him sometimes, that he didn’t take them out in his hotel room and think about Beth, what they were and what she had done to him. Jesus. That’s literally all I can think about now. You know what I need now that the writers brought back the bullets in such an amazing way? THE PEARLS!

Gosh, the way Rio said Don’t. Do. That. The fear was very real in that moment and it felt so jarring; I was kind of thrown back to the scene in 1x08, where Rio grabs Beth by the back of her neck and touches her for the first time. This is the first time he has touched her since his ‘resurrection’ and it’s suddenness was kind of similar to 1x08.

Throughout this entire scene, you can just tell that Rio’s thought about this moment so many times, that he’s thought about how he wants to make her suffer, go through some mental anguish for what she did. He couldn’t just shoot her as she got out of her car, in an impersonal manner, or get somebody else to do it. It definitely would have been easier and more successful. But they have history now and it’s too personal and I love that we can feel that in this scene.

“And then you gotta wait for it and, trust me, that’s, that’s just way worse”. Oh my gosh, Rio’s face, his almost manic laughter and smile, the way it turns into a grimace. The shaky cam. THE SHAKY CAM. I have no clue who was responsible for it but the shaky camera only served to emphasise Rio’s turmoil, his fury and his disgust.

But then as soon as all that turmoil and emotion become obvious, he doubles down and adopts a faux gentle manner again, with his voice becoming soft and placating, his arm around the back of his chair and stroking her hair so gently away from her face. I love that we were all thinking about how face and hair touches wouldn’t be back for a while. But nope. Rio’s out here destroying us all.

And then he stands up and says let’s get this over with and we get a shot of Beth’s face as she looks down, with Rio just standing on the periphery of the screen, hovering around her. I am in love with that shot. To me, it’s so representative of what Rio has been to Beth since they met and started orbiting around one another, never quite able to drift awat from one another. His presence just hangs around her and, even when he isn’t in a scene, Rio casts a very long shadow over Beth’s life and he’s a constant presence, even in her solo scenes. I feel like that is something this season has really doubled down on, whether it’s Beth thinking about what she’s done, interacting with Marcus and Rhea, looking at pictures of fathers and sons, standing and airing her thoughts about death to customers, making light of Rio’s death with the girls and Dean, emulating him and trying to think like him, teaching Annie lessons about being taken advantage of by criminals just like he taught her. Gosh, I think we’d be hard-pressed to find a Beth scene where Rio’s presence isn’t looming over her and I LOVE IT, especially since they’ve had so few on-screen moments together so far.

You can see the split second where Beth decides to lie about being pregnant. Like I said, I don’t love that this is being utilised as a plot device but at the same time I’m not as averse to it as I thought I would be during hiatus. I think part of the reason is that, like I said in the 3x02 thoughts post, Beth can be ruthlessly pragmatic and this is a highly duplicitous, terrible thing to lie about but, in such a desperate situation, it feels very Beth. God, she’s a mess.

I geuinely believe that Rio might have actually killed her had she not lied about being pregnant and Beth knew that. So I get it. I think now that Rio’s being forced to spend more time around Beth, it’s going to make it so much harder to kill her. Like Manny said in his interview “they hate each other but they want to be with each other”. Rio’s probably spent ages nurturing the hatred, fury and betrayal he feels. But once he’s forced to be around her again, I think it’s just going to remind him of all the ways he was attracted to her and genuinely liked her, of their messy history but history nonetheless, of all the ways she looked at him. It’s going to be so painful!!!!

Also, does anybody know what music is playing in the bar? I literally cannot find it anywhere! It’s not on Tunefind or on the season 3 Spotify playlist.

Beth and Dean

Ewwwwwwwwww. Hahahahaha. Omg. The writers did that. They cut away from Rio’s face to Beth and Dean having sex. I just about died.

This episode was such an interesting one for Beth and Dean’s relationship and really served to emphasise that Dean cannot read Beth anymore. She clearly was not enjoying the sex, was doing it with a specific purpose in mind and he just did not care because he was enjoying it too much. It makes me wonder if Dean was used to this emotional and ‘physical’ distance with Beth when they were having sex before Jane was born. The parallel of Beth grabbing Dean’s neck to her grabbing Rio’s neck in 2x04 was so good, especially when you just look at her face in this scene. I went back to watch the bathroom scene in 2x04 haha. I had to cleanse my mind.

Beth is clearly trying her best to be into it, with all the toys and acrobatics she’s having to use to even feign interest. The way that she can’t say that she loves Dean, the slow movement of the camera backwards as Dean walks away, serving to emphasise the distance between them.

I know a lot of people hated that Dean had so much screen time in this episode and, while I think the show could benefit from a little less, I actually kind of loved the scene where he’s out for a run and is working out. It was super funny with the way the scene cut between his blissful, sexed out face working out to Beth frantically checking if there’s any chance she could be pregnant. He’s clearly living his best life and Beth’s trying to further her own agenda. She’s been using him. Like a warm body. A sperm bank.

I saw someone point out the parallel between Dean lying about cancer, paying a doctor to help him, and Beth lying about being pregnant, with a doctor ultimately helping her. And it really is such an interesting parallel because we view both actions so differently. I for one think that what Beth is doing in this episode is horrible but I feel like the fundamental thing that separates her actions from Dean’s is that Beth is literally fighting to preserve her life. Dean just wanted back into the house, to hold onto the idyllic life he had carved out with his stepford wife at home and his chick on the side at work. Does that absolve Beth of her actions? Absolutely not. Does it separate her from Dean, even a little bit? Yes. Are they basically as bad as each other? Yes, but in very different ways.

I am hopeful that the fake pregnancy storyline will end within the next few episodes and that Beth either admits that she isn’t pregnant or Rio finds out himself. But by that point, there’s something else, work-related, that forces Rio, or encourages him, to let her live and to work together again. Gosh, my dream scenario would be Beth screaming at Rio “We both know I’m not pregnant!” but then he doesn’t kill her because there’s a reason why it would be best to keep her alive, like the counterfeit cash or something else crime-related. I do genuinely believe that this storyline won’t continue throughout the entire season, especially since Beth quite clearly says that her lie will only by her 3, maybe 4, months. And look, I know the timeline on the show is a mess. I’ve decided to ignore the inconsistencies because I honestly just don’t care too much and I’d rather not get stressed and frustrated over it.

I loved the argument between Beth and Dean. It was so real and so well done. Beth’s hesitant justification, that getting pregnant “not the worst thing”. In this particular scene, Beth’s actions are the reason for the argument but, as the audience, none of us sympahtise with Dean either. These are two people, who have both done terrible things to each other and to other people, having an arguement about what they want. Dean’s actions are the reason they can’t afford to have any more kids but it’s not like Beth wants anymore either, which has been made clear by her arc over the past two seasons.

In this scene, Dean tells the truth, he doesn’t want anymore kids and Beth continues to lie. Even with this very ‘real’ arguement, she can’t have a discussion with Dean and she hasn’t ever been able to; she becomes defensive and attacks the choices Dean made during their marriage. It’s interesting because while Dean has been Beth’s problem for a while, he’s not really the problem in this scene. Beth lying to Rio is the real problem. Regardless, Dean brushes off Beth’s comment with a “here we go”, just like he did when Beth called him out for cheating in 2x06, to which we responded with “oh, come on”. I’m not gonna lie. Despite knowing that what Beth is doing is so wrong, it felt pretty good to see Dean taken down a notch, where he realises that Beth really just does not care for him as a partner (sexually or emotionally) anymore, just like that scene where she brutally says that she just likes having sex with Rio to emasculate Dean.

The emotional and mental distance between Beth and Dean is further emphasised by Dean feeling that their relationship felt like them again, even though all that had changed was them having sex again. Almost like that’s all he values in a relationship.

I’m kind of confused by everyone saying that the writers are trying to fix their marriage when it seem really clear that Beth and Dean’s relationship has basically been torn at the seams, with the only stitch being the kids now.

Dean and Gayle

Not gonna pretend. I’m not really feeling this storyline. I don’t hate it but I don’t love it either. I’m kind of just indifferent towards it.

In this episode, we see Dean be tempted by Gayle’s offer but ultimately reject it, stating that he wants to focus on his marriage. Gayle, of course, knows that Dean is married but doesn’t care, which says... a lot.

Dean dyes his hair in this episode and it looks ridiculous. I 100% prefer Matthew Lillard with grey streaks haha. That being said, it’s not actually completely clear to me why he dyes his hair and I think that was also purposeful:

1. Is it because of his new-found confidence and bliss, living his best middle-aged male life now that he and Beth are having sex again?

2. Is it because he feels confident following Gayle’s offer and is looking forward to something “different” (which is how he describes sex with other women in 2x05)?

I think it’s interesting that the show is tackling bullying in the workplace. I don’t necessaily love that Dean is the victim, as I find it hard to sympathise with his character and I also feel like I don’t want to see him put in a position of vulnerability if that makes sense because I don’t want to feel bad for his character, who had sex with women at Boland Motors who were inherently vulnerable due to their positions as employee. I get what the writers are trying to do, placing him in the same position that others were in at his workplace, but there are just too many barriers stopping me from wanting to feel bad for him. That being said, I think this is an important topic to discuss in the real world because workplace bullying, sexual harassment and blackmail are such big issues. And anybody can be the perpetrator.

Stan and Krystal

I am pretty sure that Krystal is one of my favourite side characters on this show, which is saying a lot since I basically love all of the side characters, like JT, Tyler, Mary Pat, Lucy. Say what you want about the show and its flaws but the introduction of side characters is not one of them.

I don’t know how many times I’ve said this (pretty sure I keep saying it) but I really want Stan and Krystal to be besties.

Annie’s Therapy

I feel like this particular storyline is still finding it’s feet but I’m excited to see where it goes. In this episode, Annie mainly had to contend with the relationship that she with Beth, who is not just her older sister but has also been her caregiver for most of their lives. It also deals with something that has clearly been a sticking point for Annie for a while now, which is the fact that Beth kind of runs their 3-woman show and ‘calls the shots’. It’s interesting because Annie has had a couple of good ideas over the past 2 seasons but the reality is that Beth is the one who has crossed all the lines that Annie and Ruby haven’t. It’s Beth who gets high on this life and can’t live without it anymore. And it’s Beth who ultimately feels the most responsible for the messes that the three girls get into. She was willing to go to prison in the season 2 finale because she felt responsible for what happened over the past 2 seasons. In my mind, this is what separates Beth from Annie and Ruby.

In this episode, Annie and Beth basically have a quasi power struggle, for example when Beth tells the mover that he can leave but Annie tells him not to. Ruby’s face as she sits between Beth and Annie on the bench and listens to them argue was hilarious!

I love how confused Ruby is by Annie questioning Beth. It’s not just because Ruby has Beth’s back, it’s because it logically makes sense for Beth to deal with the mover, since she was the one who hired him. I’ve seen a lot of stuff floating around on Tumblr, about how other characters are being used to prop up Beth and, while I respect that opinion, I emphatically disagree. I feel like this season has made it so clear that Beth has not been absolved of any of her actions. Not even a little bit. This feels very purposeful on the writers’ part and I’ve written a little more about this in the section below about Rhea and The Clinic (+ Beth and Rio).

Ultimately, Annie comes to feel bad about the fact that she was giving Beth a ‘hard time’, recognising that Beth is under a lot of pressure. Like I said before, I’ve seen some posts about how other characters’ arcs are being sacrificed in order to justify Beth’s thoughts and feelings and that’s a fair enough opinion. I just don’t see it myself. Annie loves Beth and, yes, she gets frustrated with Beth controlling the show and making mistakes that affect all of them but ultimatly they’re sisters. So yes, Annie can call Beth out for all of her mistakes but she’ll also always have her back and empathise with her. As for the broader metaphor being used by Annie’s therapist, I really just think that Annie needed to fully realise that Beth’s actions are not, and have never been, selfish when it comes to her and Ruby. It’s always been from a place of love and maybe it is misguided and too protective sometimes but it’s out of love nonetheless.

I love, love, love the “Auntie Beth” scene, where Annie clarifies took care of her growing up.

The Mover (The Girls’ ‘Employee’ / ‘Partner’)

I love this character. I think he’s such a fun addition and I’m so curious to see what happens with him. Of course, we got the shot of him gagged and beaten up in the season 3 trailer and I’m fairly certain we will get that scene in the next episode or in episode 5. Perhaps it’s Rio and his guys who hold him hostage and beat him up and Beth is taken to him? The spoilers during hiatus revealed that Rio is going to shoot somebody in a van, in front of the girls. With how much this guy talked about his van and how loud his van looks, the fact that Stan and Ruby are saving up to get the van, all the times it was mentioned in this episode, I can’t help but wonder if Rio kills the mover in his van? Before this episode, I thought it would be Boomer but now I’m wondering if Rio actually kills the mover. I’ll be sad to him go if that’s the case.

Rhea and The Clinic (+ Beth and Rio)

As mentioned above, Beth has not been absolved of any of her actions in this season and I think this has been a purposeful move on the writers’ part:

The introduction of Rhea and Marcus means we get to know some very real characters who have been hurt by the absence of Rio in their lives, in other words they have been hurt by Beth’s actions. In the season 2 finale, she ‘murdered’ a father.

• The very purposeful scene where Beth stares at Marcus running away and at a picture of a father with his son. She can’t escape her own thoughts and guilt. There are reminders everywhere, even when she isn’t around Rio’s son.

• The moral dilemma presented by Rhea’s cheque, which Beth agonises over for a whole night and endeavours to pay back as soon as possible. Beth knows she’s a bad person who’s doing bad things

• Beth clearly states in this episode all the reasons why her approaching Rhea was wrong. She literally lists them all out, that it was selfish, creepy and messed up. It’s literally what we, the audience, have been thinking ever since the news during hiatus that Beth would be friends with Rhea in the new season.

• Beth’s pregnancy lie in this episode has also placed Rhea in a terrible position, placing her at the centre of a lie created to fool the father of her child.

Like I said, I don’t love the fake pregnancy storyline but I can appreciate Beth and Rio in an OBGYN clinic. He was so smiley with that pregnant lady who literally just did not clock how scared and uncomfortable Beth was and how insincere Rio was being. He was such a little shit in this entire segment and so gleeful while smiling at Beth, probably feeling 100% confident that she’s not pregnant. Airing out his and Beth’s dirty laundry with the doctor, regarding the date she conceived. Please, please, please do not let that be the last reference to the bedroom scene in 2x09. I need all the references and a flashback scene please and thank you.

It was genuinely so funny to see him look so intently at the ultrasound scan, like wtf she’s preggers?! Lol. But then that look he gave Beth, just before she very slightly smiled at him, where he looks at her with about 10,000 emotions on his face. Gosh, that shot brought me crashing all the way back down. Manny is a brilliant actor. I don’t even know what was on his face, a bunch of emotions that are practically unreadable yet on one of the most open facial expressions we’ve seen from Rio so far. You’re pregnant? You weren’t lying? You are lying? You fucked that husband of yours? What did you do? Why did you shoot me? I hate you but is it enough? I can’t kill you now? Right, I’m going to stop now.

The throwback to season 1 Rio, always on his phone and acting indifferent towards Beth and the girls was great

Also, Beth had me shook in this episode. She’s unbelievably gorgeous.

And to the person who pointed out the fractured artwork between Beth and Rio. You genius. What awesome symbolism and set design!

The Ending

Oh my gosh. I loved this ending. It was an awesome, fun cliffhanger. I cannot believe his real name is Mick (I’m really hoping to learn that his gang name is Demon in this season). From Carlos Aviles’ posts, it looks like we’ll be seeing a fair amount of him this season; at least, I’m hopeful we’ll see him more. We’ve already got a sneak peak centred around him being super polite and practically besties with Beth’s neighbour haha.

I’m super excited and optimistic for 3x04. I’ll l be watching it in basically 24 hours, as I have to be up early for uni and work and stuff and won’t be able to watch until I get home. Cheers to all the spoilers that I will try to avoid but give into eventually!

#nbc good girls

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geminiloopholed · 5 years ago

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Everyone thinks Lizzie is selfish (and she can be) and that she is a horrible twin but I decided to write a drabble on her illness. Has mentions of sex (nothing graphic or ANYTHING), mania, depression, self-harm (mentions), the bullying I am just gonna post it here for now but if anyone thinks I should post it in the tags, etc well then comment? Or just let me know what you think.

I used my experience plus creative freedoms, headcanons I had for Lizzie for a long time to make this.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

I feel like I'm a snow globe and someone shook me up and now every little piece of me is falling back randomly and nothing is ending up where it used to be ― Amy Reed, Crazy

𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞? 𝐁𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞?

Funny how things work from daddy working just a little too much and mommy busy searching for answers away from home, keeping it a secret that it is almost like an affair. A bunch of lies that the twins are forced to swallow down with cheap alcohol that they shouldn’t be drinking. How she should be asleep but instead she is here in this moment dancing around the room, music soft but it sounds loud in her ears. The amount of times she falls to the gym floor can be counted on how many bruises she will be covering up with makeup in the coming hours. A bloody lip and she is still going, only stopping to get some vampire blood to heal herself up (So no one will ever notice that Lizzie Saltzman isn’t perfect).

Her twin is the one that comes through the door at close to five pm and is shutting off the music. “Time to go hide in our room if you don’t want dad to worry.” It sounds like an I LOVE YOU from a siphon that barely says the worlds to the blonde. Sometimes, Lizzie wonders if maybe she could get that I love you if she just tries harder to be better. Lip curls into a smile, sweat making her clothes cling to skin and she feels a sense of pride swell up inside of her.

In the shower, she has to stop and can only smile at her razor blade because not today. not ever again.

Breakfast with her twin is with drumming fingers against her plastic cup filled with strawberry smoothie and a pancake that she eats half off before feeding the rest to a wolf that she is interested in, he is cute and has that damaged look in his eyes that Lizzie craves. Just like Josie, she wants to save a lost cause but the way she goes about it is different. Josie mother hens, Lizzie is the bad influence that will show you a good time right down to the letter

Snickers and snorts in her direction by the end of the day by Alyssa fucking Chang has her breathing fast, that witch has never been a friend of hers. When she was younger, she had been sent to the ER because of burns thanks to that witch. she doesn’t know all the damage her daddy did to that girl deep down in her subcouncious NOR does she care. The fifteen year old doesn’t five a fuck about the other’s wedgie trauma or lacktherefore of. In the bathroom, splashing water on her face and Josie holding her hair back as she vomits. It hurts when she is finished, her throat and stomach both ache from overuse and yet she still wishes there was more to throw up because she can avoid the other that way. Josie getting a paper towel for her twin.

“Thanks,” Lizzie whispers, shaking fingers grip an edge and wipe at her mouth, breathing in air that is hardly calming but she forces herself to fake it. “Go be with Satan.” Two more months and the Satan/God’s angel will be broken up and Lizzie will have her twin back. She is a blackhole of love and energy and it is pushing her twin away for the moment so she can handle shit herself even if that makes it a bigger deal.

𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞?

No one warns you about the lack of sleep, about how sleeping three hours can feel like you slept all night long. How you can still go running around the school in the crisp fall air and be just fine.

Everyone is complaining about not sleeping and Lizzie just sits there, foot shaking feeling ALIVE and more important then anyone else, so much that she shot her mouth off and said maybe if you weren’t busy fucking David or whatever the night before you wouldn’t be so tired. Her best friend, one besides Josie ends their friendship right then and there and Lizzie doesn’t give a damn because she is BETTER OFF WITHOUT HER.

No one tells you that you feel ontop of the world but end up alone because being alone on top is nothing. Kings and Queens never knew who to trust either and they ended up being bad asses, marked down in history and that is what Lizzie wants, to be in the history books that kids read about seventy years from now when she is dead.

Life is fine even if it means skipping lunch to go walk around the halls for the thirty minute break listening to music in her head, the tune all jumbled and doesn’t make sense but whatever.

𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞?

Just sex? How does one feel being in a state and having their first time in the fall air and when the boy leaves all she feels is cold and alone. Tears fall as she lets herself up and gets dressed. It didn’t help with her head, didn’t slow anything down like she had hoped and instead it added some new thoughts in her head. How someone could call you crazy and then get their fix, it ruins and destories. Getting back to the dorm by the time Josie is out of the shower sucked

Lizzie cleaned herself up in a bathroom stall the best she could, trying to get the taste of his kiss out of her mouth and off her lips. She wishes she could be held by her mother and told everything would be okay but she doesn’t want to be a blackhole, something that Penelope will later shoot out of her mouth during a manic episode by the time her birthday comes around. How Hope Mikaelson came in and even fucking helped her get the grass out of her hair without saying a world, because girls don’t knock each other down too far, at least not on this (Or maybe the Mikaelson has some tact on the subject). Lizzie changes her clothes and curls up into bed with Josie and sleeps for the four hours that she can sleep and is up praying that no one knows about what she had done.

No one seems to know the next day at breakfast and instead of sitting down? Lizzie is up walking around the building, helping teachers with getting things down and ready for the younger classmen.

𝐃𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫 '𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞? 𝐒𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞?

Of course, someone has to point it out to her father that Lizzie had been off her pills because he didn’t seem to noice. So busy with his private training sessions and whatever else that he assumed Lizzie’s anger outbursts were just teen angst but here it was a cry for help. It is with the help of MAGIC that they break the manic episode and she sleeps for four days off and on and her mommy comes down to hold her. For a split second she feels like she is whole again but that is an illusion.

It’s telling Josie between sobs about her first time without naming names only to find out that everyone knows because people brag about that sort of thing. How walking the walls forever would feel like someone placed a bag over her head and was just waiting for the air to waste away, for her to die. It’s then that her sister breaks up with Penelope Parks, attempts to fix the broken and shattered pieces and Lizzie lets her because she needs someone to care.

Dad leaves and so does mom, leaving the girls to pick up broken pieces all over again.

𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐰 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐝𝐞

The depressive episode comes and Josie is the one holding a blonde as she cries, blood coming from cuts that she made to try and feel better but it never works. It is praying that a manic episode would hurry up so she can have some relief. Queen of self-harm, Josie would tell a boy from the grill that ends up at the school. If Lizzie would know her twin would out her secret to someone else, she would have never let Josie through the door (She didn’t actually let the siphon, no Josie used magic to bust in)

No one tells them that having your twin giving you pills twice a day would be normal to both of you after that. Josie tossing them across the room and watching because clearly, no one else is going to do it. Lizzie can’t do it, her head tells her not to do it and right now she was too weak to do it herself. The agreement was just until they turned sixteen but tht would be cut short when Monsters start coming and this mopheaded boy that Lizzie swears she doesn’t like comes to down.

Josie is everything that grounds her and Lizzie is everything that makes Josie fly around like she has no wings but one half of a whole is hardly good math.

The twins sit in the bathroom with scissors cutting Lizzie’s once LONG hair to her shoulders. The once down to the middle of Lizzie’s back gets cut and even as she cries, Josie keeps going because there is no other way around it. No one talks about how depression can ruin your good locks because running a brush through it never comes to mind or it does and you are so tired tht you can’t be bothered.

𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐚 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞?

All of her issues turned her mean but no one ever stopped to ask her if she was alright, no one ever cared to see behind the mask when she was still kind hearted and not putting up a front. No one gave a damn, just like her parents and sometimes just like Josie.

Penelope Park gets her pen at christmas time frozen and it breaks into millions of pieces, only after she mad Josie cry. It becomes the two of them (Penelope and Lizzie) going at one another. No one hurts Josie and gets away with it, if Penelope wasn’t someone Josie cared about, Lizzie would throw down and give that witch a wild bruising without care but Josie begs for the other not to do it.

Diana calls Josie a loser and what does Lizzie do? Punches her in the face. No one notices it is to honor her twin, to defend her really because no one ever thinks that Lizzie can be nice. No one thinks Lizzie cares about anyone BUT herself. Her mask is working only it works so well that Josie starts to believe it too.

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦.

No one talks about the illness taking who you are and crushing it. No one talks about losing things like your hair or how you have impulses to have sex with someone you don’t know. This isn’t a dream, no one can go back and change how their brain works even if they would LOVE to do just that.

#・ ˖ ✦ ⋄ . ❝Mine: Drabble❞ 【GEMINILOOPHOLED】#・ ˖ ✦ ⋄ . ❝Mine: All❞ 【GEMINILOOPHOLED】

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noablke · 5 years ago

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memory #001

August 24th, 2010

where: Detroit, Michigan

who: Noah Blake, Emily Sullivan

note: Emily gives Noah the news

It was 5:00am when Noah had awoken from what seemed to be like an endless nightmare. A few weeks prior he got placed on clozapine which was a new antipsychotic that his Psychiatrist decided to try him on--and at this point, Noah knew it wasn’t working. All he felt was worst. Waking up every other night in a pure panic because his heart rate felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. Some nights he found himself lying on the couch so that Emily could get some sleep. Baby Piper had been keeping her up more often during the night the last few weeks and the last thing he wanted to do was wake her with one of his episodes.

She wasn’t there.

When Noah woke up--she wasn’t beside him. She was nowhere to be found in their small apartment.

Where is she? Noah grabbed his phone and dialed her about five times. No answer.

Noah [5:17am]: Emily where are you? Noah [5:17am]: Call me ASAP Noah [5:20am]: answer your FUCKING PHONE NOW

It seemed like he was trying to reach his wife forever.

6:38am -- she walked through the door. The look on her face is something Noah will never forget. She was terrified.

“Do you want to tell me why you weren’t next to me when I woke up at 5 in the fucking morning, Em?” Noah was so upset that she was being so careless. This wasn’t the first night in the last couple weeks that she had done it.

“N-Noah stop yelling at me, I’m fucking right in front of you.”

“Answer my question, Emily. Now.”

“I needed to go get some fresh air--I went for a drive to watch the sunrise.” She said, with tears in her eyes as she fought back from telling him the truth. She also seemed weak--she had no energy.

“Emily---you’re acting like I don’t know you. Tell me the truth right now.” Noah sternly demanded. Noah and Emily had been in a rocky and toxic relationship for what was going on for 5 years now. Why they were still together? They didn’t even know why themselves. The number of times they broke up with each other over the past few years was too many to count. They craved the toxicity that fueled them. Noah walked over to his wife and grabbed both her wrists with his hands--startling her, but made his hands slowly intertwine with hers. Holding back tears he whispered closely to her, “Please, baby. Talk to me. Where did you go?”

Emily pressed her forehead against his and slowly touched her lips to his but backed away as the tears started flowing, choking back her words--she finally realized there was no hiding it.

“I--was at the hospital. I----” she paused as she watched as Noah backed away from her quickly as she said that, “Our baby is gone, Noah. I’m sorry.”

Our baby is gone.

How? How was she gone? They just heard her heartbeat three weeks ago.

Noah, shocked and in utter disbelief--he found himself standing there, emotions just piling in his head and still not giving his wife a reply to the words that she just spoke. “How?” He finally managed to say “ what happened--why didn’t you wake me the fuck up, Em?”

“I knew they were going to run blood tests. I didn’t want you to know--”

“Didn’t want me to know what?” he asked in a demanding tone, cutting her off mid-sentence.

“I’ve been taking Methotrexate the past two weeks. I never wanted our baby, Noah. I want to live my life and having a family with you is not the life I want.”

Did she really just say what he thought she said? She killed their baby. She wanted the baby gone. How could Noah not have seen the pills? It’s like Emily was hiding a completely different life from him. “Say it--you don’t want a family with me because I’m fucking crazy right? You don’t want our kids to know their dad is a fucking lunatic who can’t even get his brain to function correctly.”

“--That’s not what I meant--LOOK AT US--we are not good people, Noah--we are toxic people. Why do you think we’re still together? Because we know we’re bad for each other,” Emily screamed back at her husband, “I DID OUR BABY A FUCKING FAVOR.”

Noah hated to admit she was right. They were attracted to each other like magnets. Impossible for them to stay away from each other. As much as he wanted her to get out of his face right now--he wanted her to be in his arms. She knew him like a book--no, she knew his brain like a book. She knew how to handle all of his mood swings, all of the manic episodes of his where he never sleeps--she always picked him up from his depressive states---

she knew how to control him.

An hour went by and the married couple sat as complete silence filled their small home. Nothing but the sound of the fan could be heard.

“Let's go back to bed, No.” Emily whispered in his ear as she gently made her way to massage his shoulders. “Please.”

and so they did.

#* memories *#self para #tw: child loss #tw: abortion #tw: verbal abuse #? kind of #lots of yelling at eachother...#IT'S LATE and i wanted to write #i just want people to finally kind of see how bad his moods use to be---or can get when definitely triggered or off meds #or when his meds don't work lmao #oh and here's a glimpse into his first gf lmao #Ok i should try to sleep

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bone-marreaux · 5 years ago

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(Just a little something I wrote up about bipolar disorder.)

Bipolar Facebook Post

The other day I was walking to my classes and I overheard the conversation between two girls in front of me. I won’t get into it, but one glaring detail is when one girl exclaimed “Oh my God, I am SO bipolar!” with a laugh. I was struck by that small outburst. I’m so bipolar. I don’t want to make assumptions of course, because maybe she really did have bipolar disorder and was very good at joking around about it, much like I am. However, my intuition told me that wasn’t the case.

As I walked into class I really thought about that girl’s statement. She wasn’t bipolar. She didn’t have bipolar disorder. She would never know the agony of bipolar disorder. She will never know what it’s like to have baseline ripped out from under you like a rug, leaving you sprawling out on the ground like you didn’t even know what hit you. She will never know what it’s like to be lower than low for days. Two hours of sleep per night, but napping for five or more hours a day. Any semblance of energy is completely gone. She will never know the feeling of depression so heavy that anytime you’re not sleeping, you’re fantasizing what it would feel like to hang from a noose or wondering how much it would hurt to slit your wrists and bleed out on the bathroom floor. She will never know not having the energy just to get out of bed to eat. She will never know the feeling of not showering for nearly a week because her body was just too heavy to move. She will never have to fake being happy everywhere she goes. Not just at work where you have to be happy no matter what, but in everyday life. Being with friends, going to class, talking on the phone with your grandmother. She will never know the agony of being so scared to ask for help for fear of being a burden. She will never have to confess to her therapist that she started cutting again, after two years of being clean. Maybe I’m wrong. For fuck’s sake, there are so many people that know me that would never begin to guess that I take up to ten pills a day just so my mind doesn’t kill me. Maybe she’s struggling too.

Maybe she knows what it feels like to be manic. Perhaps she knows the feeling of electricity in her bones keeping her awake and powerful. Maybe she knows the feeling of thinking you’re on top of the world, thinking you’re so interesting and beautiful and perfect. Maybe her thoughts race at a trillion miles per hour, going so fast that she can’t even hold on to a single thought to think about. Does she feel exhausted from not sleeping for five days straight, yet being so energized that she feels like she’s hitting the fifth dimension, but only when she shakes her head a certain way? Does the energy make her limbs shake with intensity, her neck snapping to the side and her head twitching just right? Maybe she understands the feeling of being so full of ideas and excitement that there’s no time for silly things like eating and showering. Perhaps she’s survived a week on three Takis, a scoop of mashed potatoes, and three cans of Mountain Dew and felt completely fine. If she’s felt all of these things, then surely she understands the feeling like you’re on ecstasy, with tingling skin and scalp. Does she believe the entire world was created from her brain? Does she believe she is everyone and no one? She must know the feeling of being in rainbow technicolor, feeling like a glitch in the code, with a choir of angels singing higher and higher until your ears bleed. Maybe she knows what it’s like to have your blood feel like acid, with a light shining behind your eyes that’s so bright it burns, and feeling like you’re exploding out of your skin. Does she know she is part of a neverending talk show where they only talk about how she is going to die the most beautiful person on earth?

Maybe I’m reading into it too far. Maybe she is a totally normal person. She probably doesn’t even understand what a mixed episode is. What is that, even? A mashup between two TV shows on Netflix? No? I almost want to grab her by the shoulders and give her a quick shake. I want her to wake up and realize that mixed episodes are the worst experiences I have ever gone through in my life. I want to tell her that it’s the best and worst aspects of mania and depression amalgamated into one hideous creature that constantly lurks in the back of my brain, ready to strike at any sign of stress. I want to tell her that mixed episode anxiety is the worst type of anxiety I’ve ever had to go through. Thoughts racing like mania, but racing the same things over and over. Some days my thoughts tell me everyone hates me and that I’m a burden. Other days the thoughts constantly tell me to kill myself throughout the day, flashing images of cutting and nooses and bruises and razorblades on repeat, even during the most important times of the day, such as during a presentation in class or when I’m at work trying to help a customer. Other days it reminds me that I’m a worthless piece of shit that’s worth nothing over and over. I want to tell her that the racing manic thoughts become a depression so intense that I can’t even begin to describe it. I am constantly trembling with insane energy, yet the only motivation I have is to lay down in bed. I can’t sleep much more than a half hour a night, even on very strong sleeping medication. I feel sick yet amazing, as if I can rule the world, but maybe not until tomorrow. Would she be scared if I told her I see creatures in the corners of my eyes and hear my cat talk? What would she think of me if she knew that I hear voices yelling my name and telling me to step in front of cars or slit my throat or swallow all the pills on my desk because death is all I deserve? Mixed episodes are the epitome of a walking disaster. I wonder if she’ll ever understand that this happens every couple of months or so. I doubt it.

My therapist told me I should try to be “my more authentic self.” Part of that, we discerned, is being more open about my mental illness. “Other mentally ill people can benefit from my experiences,” I said. She agreed. “Especially people only just diagnosed with bipolar disorder. I have so many resources!” Walking out of that session I felt great. Of course I could totally be more open about my mental illness. It wouldn’t even be that hard. Well, that was a fucking lie. As I write this, I meant for it to be a harmless Facebook post, but it escalated into something I wouldn’t even tell my own mother. I guess that’s just how it be sometimes.

#mine #poetry

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