#it all just drives me Insane its literally worse for my mental health to have sessions w him lmao

[steviescrystals]

its 5am and i can’t sleep and i have to ramble about something (a few somethings actually) bc i cannot stop thinking about it!! this is really just for me to get my thoughts out bc they’re driving me crazy, but on the off chance anyone reads this, prepare yourself: it’s about to be a very long post.

i have so many chronic issues — both physical and mental — that i’m just used to dealing with at this point, and i’m only just recently realizing how not normal they are?? the main thing that’s driving me insane lately is just my overall physical well being, like it’s just so… not good lmao. i’m extremely anemic, so i’m basically exhausted and lightheaded and dizzy and nauseous pretty much all of the time which is just awesome for me, and it’s been even worse than normal the past few months bc i have a ton of food issues that just keep getting worse (caused by a super fun combination of depression, disordered eating, constantly being sick, and just general stomach issues). my diet is really just all over the place and definitely not as nutritious as it needs to be, which as you can imagine does not help all the health issues i already have! on top of all that, i was finally diagnosed with adhd earlier this year after spending forever 1) constantly learning that a lot of things i had always thought were just “me things” were actually symptoms 2) being told by so many people around me WITH ADHD that i seemed like i had it, and 3) outright asking various psychiatrists and doctors to test me for it. because of the shortage on adhd medication, i only recently was able to get a prescription, and (this is where the relation to food comes in) literally no one — not my doctor, not the psychiatrist who prescribed it, not the pharmacist — thought to tell me that the medication i’m on lowers your appetite?? i only found out bc my mom, who’s a nurse, mentioned it one day and was shocked that i didn’t already know that was a side effect. so that sucks because i need the medication, but i also need to be eating a lot more than i currently am (especially because i’m also taking iron supplements for my anemia, and if you don’t eat enough while taking them, they make you sick). so! that’s all great for me!

i’ve also had chronic headaches since i was 11 years old that have continually gotten more frequent and more painful over the years, to the point that i get them almost every day and have taken advil, tylenol, midol, etc. so often that i’ve pretty much built up a tolerance to them and they do essentially nothing for me anymore. they’re usually just really bad headaches, but sometimes i get full-on migraines, and when i ended up in the ER in the spring (long story), the nurses told me i’m likely developing a migraine disorder. this is kind of just an unfortunate fact of life for me now since it’s been going on for eight years, but i’ve just been thinking about it a lot lately bc of a psychiatrist appointment i had a couple months ago (lots of various appointments lately but not much has gotten better… lol). when i was telling the psychiatrist about my headaches, he told me that the average person gets a headache twice a year, which just… genuinely blew my mind. like, i cannot imagine not having this problem. what a nice life that must be for the average person. and i mean, i’ve always known that i get headaches way more often than most people, but i truly could not wrap my brain around the difference being that extreme. i literally started asking everyone i knew how often they got headaches bc i was so surprised and curious, and they all told me they just never get them?? like that is insane to me, i’m so jealous.

okay last thing for now: the reason i’m still awake rn! i started struggling with insomnia when i was maybe 11 or 12, and just like with the headaches, it’s gotten worse and worse over time and i’ve just kind of grown accustomed to it. it always takes me hours to fall asleep, and i have a very hard time staying asleep — i usually wake up in the middle of the night at least two or three times a night. it’s another thing i knew wasn’t super typical, but it’s not insanely uncommon either. but that same psychiatrist had a statistic for this too, and he said that the average person wakes up in the middle of the night ONCE A YEAR (under normal circumstances, so not counting things like being sick or having abnormally high stress levels). he also asked me how long it takes me to fall asleep again after waking up in the night, and i said “not that long, like half an hour usually” and he quite literally just stared at me and said “yeah so that is long actually.” like, i know not everyone has insomnia, but this whole time i thought that everyone who DOES have it would have generally the same experience as me, and apparently that’s just not true lmao. in fact, he said my insomnia is so bad that i have what’s called terminal insomnia, so i guess this is just my life forever! how fun is that!

so that’s pretty much all i wanted to say (she said as if she didn’t just spend 30 minutes typing all of this). whenever something like this is on my mind, it makes it even harder to sleep than it already is all the time, so i figured i’d just come on here and word vomit for a while. i don’t expect anyone to read all of this (or any of it tbh), but if you have, thank you for listening! i hope you have a great day and get a better night’s sleep than me tonight :)

#send help the fucking sun is already rising as i’m typing this #loving life rn #vent

[trans-xianxian]

canceling my therapy appointment today because I simply do not like my therapist ❤

#he's just bad at his job dude #he treats me like I don't know anything about therapy despite the fact that I've been in therapy for 7 years... #last appointment I told him I was feeling sad and lonely like I'm in 7th grade and nobody wants to sit with me at lunch #and he was like well why do you care if people like you you can't control that tell me what makes you feel not lonely #like huh? what kind of shitty base level unhelpful psychology bullshit is that #he's always so surprised that I'm Self Aware and know what my needs and my trauma are like yeah man cuz I've been in therapy for 7 years? #it all just drives me Insane its literally worse for my mental health to have sessions w him lmao #and I would just stop all together but then my clinic will stop filling my perceptions 🥰 #I just need to find a whole new clinic to go to because my medical doctor is a fucking nightmare too #when I asked to get treated for my back pain she said 'if you had crawled in here I'd be more concerned but you look fine to me' so. yknow. #anyway this has been your unscheduled ben tag vent session live and light #ghost posts #text #not mdzs

[starryeyedrogue]

mental health & vent

again, a long one. please stick with me here.

tw: depression, anxiety, ptsd, epilepsy diagnosis, suicidal thoughts mention

hey everyone, like I said in my last post, I won’t be as active on here. this doesn’t mean I’m quitting by any means, I’m here for the long haul! I just need a break for a little bit. 

side note: I am not in any way suicidal or practicing self harm. this is just to vent and act as a PSA for my mutuals/followers.

now onto my main message. 

I���ve seen lots of posts about mental health lately, and I’m so incredibly proud of those who have spoken up. They’ve inspired me to make my own post, actually. normally I’d keep it to myself, but this time has been rough and I want to get it off my chest. I’ll probably delete this later, but still. 

I’ve been depressed. 

long story short, I had a very traumatic experience a couple years ago with an ex boyfriend (not going into it on this post, for details just dm me. not something I’d want to post publicly, this is just an explanation) and I was deeply depressed. I was never diagnosed “officially” because I was afraid to speak up, as this would expose what I was going through. I had really bad anxiety at that time too, and I still do. I also have PTSD flashbacks from it now and again. none of this was diagnosed, and I still don’t want to bring it up to my doctors/family. my irl friends don’t even know, at least not most of it. 

I have monoclonic epilepsy, which means my seizures are fairly small. my arms, legs, feet, hands, and fingers twitch, and I lose control for a few seconds. it doesn’t hurt, and sometimes I don’t even notice or remember it happening, but my family does. epilepsy in general runs in my family, and it can be triggered by a great deal of stress, lack of sleep, and of course flashing lights. in my case, I never “had” epilepsy or seizures until the “experience” I mentioned before, as it caused massive amounts of stress for about 2 years straight. it’s gotten better, as I now have medicine and am out of that situation, and I haven’t had a seizure since September, which is amazing and a huge blessing.

writing has helped with my depression and anxiety a lot, as I can write out what effects me the most. honestly, some of the characters are based off of myself (before vs after) and the person from the “experience.” this is just for therapeutic reasons, as I don’t really want to go to real therapy (I’d be too embarrassed to ask for it or talk to someone anyway, though I probably need to go eventually and plan to when I’m on my own). 

however, when I stopped posting it, I started feeling bad again. I didn’t think I needed to post my stories to feel better or to make a childhood dream into reality, but not posting it made me feel somehow worse. I’ve stopped writing as much, and I’ve lost motivation to do just about anything. I’m working on a couple things to help myself get out of this “funk,” but any tips would be greatly appreciated! 

this may seems stupid, but I’ve been depressed and very anxious about my schooling. I started in cyber security and got about halfway through, but I became depressed and had other issues so I didn’t finish the degree. now I’m starting in psychology, after praying for months and months for help with figuring out what to do for school. I finally got an answer, and that answer was to be a Christian counselor! I want to help as many people as I can, especially since I know how it feels to be anxious, depressed, and have PTSD. 

I’m dealing with a lot of changes right now, as I’m selling my first car, might have to move out of my first house/childhood home, and just a bunch of other stuff. this sounds trivial, but I hate change. it seriously stresses me out. my neurologist told me that if I have any more seizures, I won’t be able to drive for 6 months to a year to be safe (as I could have an “episode” as I call it while driving and hurt myself/others in a potential car accident). trust me, trying not to be stressed while being stressed, anxious, and depressed is not easy. 

on top of all that, my irl friends have all but abandoned me. I never hear from them (all but one, she’s the best!), and when I do they ignore me or pretend to listen when they obviously aren’t. I try to make plans with them, but they ignore me or just say “definitely!” but never try to set up times to hang out. It’s been almost two years since I’ve seen them all together. I was able to hang out with the friend I mentioned earlier to go to another friend’s recital, but that was it, and that was months ago. I totally get being busy, but I miss them and I don’t think they miss me, which really hurts. one friend ditched us on graduation day and we haven’t talked to her outside of “happy birthday,” or “@___ look at this thing I know you like,” which she never responded to. graduation was 4 years ago. I miss them all, even if they aren’t really my friends. I miss familiarity and their chaotic personalities. I’ve known them my entire life. honestly, I haven’t made any other friends irl, even though I’ve tried (I’m very introverted and a lot of people don’t get my humor/personality. I’m very much a mischievous old lady that uses weird wording (li.e. using uncommon words for my generation mixed with modern stuff, basically I sound like a vampire that’s been around since the 50s and mixes the eras together in some unholy mixture) at heart and I have very niche interests that I cling to like they’re my last hope). basically, making friends and meeting new people is hard for me for various reasons.

tumblr is different though, which I’m seriously grateful for! the people I’ve talked to are all so nice and really fun to talk to, and they’re part of why I’m posting this. @elvish-sky gave me the courage to post this and @hey-its-nonny and @padawansofthejediorder have been amazing and super nice to me, and I couldn’t be more grateful. the reason I’m posting this is to let them know what’s going on if I don’t respond to messages for a while, and to let them know what wonderful people they are and how much it means to me that they care about me, even if we’re just tumblr mutuals. I love you guys, thanks for being here! it means more than you know.

my mom and dad both had health scares recently, which made me spiral even more. I honestly don’t know what I would do if one of them died. they’re literally my world and my best friends, as ridiculous as that sounds. my mental health was so low I honestly thought I’d die too. they’re both fine now, which is truly a blessing and a massive relief. when I say I thought I’d die too, I don’t mean I wanted to commit suicide, but I honestly can’t imagine a world without my parents, especially my mom (hers was the main health scare, it was a case of reaction to a new medication for her migraines). we’re insanely close and she’s my best friend, as cheesy as that sounds. I don’t know what I would do without her. it’s making me teary just thinking about it. 

long story short, please be patient with me. I’m dealing with a lot right now, and I need some time to take a deep breath and focus on my mental health. if you have any suggestions/tips for dealing with depression, anxiety, and PTSD flashbacks, please let me know! 

for those I’ve tagged, you don’t have to reply or even read this whole thing if you want, I tagged you because I thought you’d like to know about this and/or I wanted to show my appreciation for your kindness!

I love you all, thanks for sticking around and listening to my rants. <3

#roguespeaks #sorry that was super long #vent #mental health #roguesrambles

[angelmichelangelo]

i’m about five years too late and nobody asked for this except me and i need to just get this out of my brain because it’s 2am so here’s a list of things i wish happened on glee that didn’t HERE WE GO:

- new directions being actual teenagers. just them hanging out. going to group sleepovers. giant study sessions (because school exists in this universe?) like remember in tpp when they were eating lunch together ? that’s what i wanted MORE of. just them being actual friends. a sleepover episode is all i wanted imagine all the abba songs we could have gained from that episode

- a halloween themed episode. the closest to this that we got was the ‘thriller/heads will roll’ mashup which YES was iconic but im greedy and it’s not enough. my idea for a halloween episode is that the gang gets trapped inside the school after staying behind to idk rehearse? or something? and then things get progressively worse as they start to go a little mad, thinking the school is haunted and they split up into pairs trying to find an escape and they think they’re seeing ghosts/someone lurking around the school and they’re getting real spooked but it turns out it’s just sue fucking with them lmao

- kurt and finn being brothers. THE POTENTIAL WAS THERE and sadly after furt we are left with crumbs. why ?? WHY?? little moments like finn saying that he’s driving back home with kurt or them saying they can’t do something because they have a family thing would have been good enough. more scenes of them hanging out in their home with their parents would have been *chefs kiss* but alas. it never happened because glee writers are bastards

- based off my last point: sam actually living at the hudson-hummel house because he actually did live there? but nothing is ever said like what’s the dynamic there why weren’t kurt and sam and finn close if they all lived together for what? like a year? was sam living in the mf shed? did he ever get close to carole and burt?? where tf did he live when everyone went off to college did he just stay in their house lol who knows not me LMAO

- blaine dealing with his trauma ? mental health was never dealt with very well on this show. emma’s ocd was just ignored after she got married or whatever and blaine mentioned his trauma once and then it was ignored until it was mentioned in passing a few seasons later and even he just brushed it off and it was never brought up again like wtf. i have no idea how they wrote a whole episode about hate crime in bash and they never once thought to have blaine and kurt have a single conversation together, let alone a conversation about how they’d both been victims of a hate crime. AND THE ONLY TIME BLAINE DOES MENTION IT IS IN TESTED WHERE ITS JUST USED AS A REASON FOR THEM TO FIGHT AAAAAAAA no wait im calm it’s okay. i just would have liked to have seen kurt and blaine have an emotional moment together in that episode that didn’t include blaine singing and kurt being knocked tf out. just sayin.

- kurt dealing with HIS trauma !! again, glee gets bad points for talking about mental health and it just is crazy that they had so much potential with kurt, ie: depression, anxiety, ocd (kinda?) his bullying, being literally assaulted (i see u ryan murphy taking that whole plot line so loosely mmhm) and then shoehorning in the fact that he was suicidal AT THE SECOND TO LAST EPISODE when they had a whole episode about suicide and they could have mentioned it at any time but ofc they didn’t because the writers just wanted to shove in as much as they could in the flashback episode AYE AYE AYE the potential!!!! oof.

- literally just more tina. jenna ushkowitz is a fantastic actor/singer/preformer and she was criminally underused. i like the episode props because of two reasons: one. everyone switching characters was amazing. and two. some actual tina scenes. even if she.. technically was rachel but also herself or something? either way. i digress

- this is just in general but MORE ABBA AND ALSO THE CARPENTERS and also some sound of music songs would have worked GREAT but they already had like a million songs and as the show progressed they veered away from old songs and more towards popular songs at the time to help chart numbers blah blah blah whatever it’s cool. but also how did they only do a few abba songs that is criminal

- a more fleshed out ending that wasn’t so rushed. like rachel won a tony and everyone else is just? there? why is sam at mr shue’s house ??? how did artie get up the stairs? did quinn graduate from yale? and where tf was kurt and blaine’s child during ‘i lived’ because burt and carole are vibing in the audience and rachel isn’t pregnant so like? is the baby just?? alone somewhere in the wings?! lmao where are u bby girl!! but once again i know they didn’t have the time to do it so idk it’s fine what they did it just sucks we didn’t get more! but again. fanfic exists so yah im all good

- more of blaine’s mum. or mom, in this case i guess. why cast gina gershon and then give her ONE line like ? ik there was a whole deleted script that explained why she was there but i love that up until that point blaine seemed like he genuinely murdered his parents, lived in their big house all alone and when people got suspicious he just told them that they were “out of town” :) either way pam is great i love her and i wish she had more to do in the one episode she was ever in. not even a moment with blaine?? wasted.

- more of cooper anderson, matt boomer is so fucking funny everytime i think of the emotion tornado i bust a lung laughing like it’s so fucking stupid but oh my good i love it. (and if you haven’t watched the special feature of cooper’s transformers audition tape please please watch it because it’s just so funny.) ik he was just a special guest but i wish they got him back for at least the wedding ep but guess my mans was just busy. boo ;(

- going back a couple of points, i wish they’d done a whole episode like props. every actor here just shines when they’re impersonating each other. finn and puck as kurt and blaine is beautiful and quinn and sugar is incredible. also idk why they refused kevin the right to wear the cheerios skirt; they could have put a little more effort into some characters but that’s glee for ya lmao but yeah. a whole episode like that would have been so much fun

- they should have let chris colfer write more episodes. purely for the fact that he wrote with his own bare hands the whole scene where lea michelle’s character gets dragged down a road by dogs. this guy. it’s a shame he only got to write one since he actually did a really good job! i would have loved to have seen what other episode ideas he had :)

- glee in the summer! obviously it only was centred around the school year but after season 3 who honestly gave a shit about the glee club and mckinley lmao i wanna see them in SHORT SHORTS and POOL PARTIES but nope we just got september - june so like rip all my hopes and dreams

- WHAT HAPPENED TO DALTON? bitch just burst into flames ?? and for WHAT?? oh yeah plot convenience smh this is so sad i wish they’d either written something better than “we need the warblers to team up with new directions so uhhh the school burnt down” like. it’s a private school. if the school is gone and they’re just staying at mckinley what are the parents paying for? they’re just cool with sending their kids off to public school now? every adult in this universe has been murdered by these kids, haven’t they? they’re just doing whatever they want jfc

- a wedding was a good episode. ish. and yknow, huge kudos to them because gay marriage wasn’t legal in the us at the time so im less harsh on the fact that they definitely threw up the rainbow flags and made it less about the characters getting married and more so “we have gay characters and look they’re getting married what a concept” but i do wish we could have gotten some more married!klaine since they don’t really have much to do after this understandably but a little moment alone together after the wedding would have been nice :) IT WOULD HAVE BEEN NICE IM TELLING YOU

- get rid of the hummelberry friendship and send mercedes to new york instead. i have nothing else to add to this other than the fact that i mourn the fact that kurt and mercedes went from bffs to just. school mates. this is tragic this is traaaaagic !! and all for more of the rachel berry show smh

- every day i wonder what was going through carmen tibideaux mind when she watched the kurt hummel preform not the boy next door and was like :) and then watched rachel berry have a breakdown on stage and then proceeded to give rachel the spot at nyada and kurt gets payed literal dust. and THEN she had the nerve to tell him it was because his performance had no heart. AND HOW DID ADAM GET IN THIS BABY GOT BACK MOTHERFUCKER?! nyada is a circus school oh my god !!!!! kurt deserved better im telling yall he deserved so much better

there’s so much more i could rant about but im going insane im so tired and i need psychological help after watching glee so im gonna leave it here and say peace out homies it’s been fun but i need to sleep so bad

#this is insanity #how did this happen #glee #tw hate crime mention #tw suicide mention #tw mental health mention #this was from my drafts lmao

[imagine-that-one-thing]

Her Majesty || 11

Crowns and Robes.

Anastasia’s pov 

At some point along the long drive, I dozed off to the sound of Harry softly humming to the radio while attempting to get a hold of someone on his phone. I’m not sure who he was calling, I remember him asking me if I was okay, and as far as I know, I hummed a response. 

I am fine; I am not going to fall off the deep end and swiftly become deranged. I don’t understand the circumstances that have happened in the last few months, I never imagined that this is what being Royal would be like. My parents didn’t prepare me for any of this, I don’t think anyone could have equipped me for these trials of royalty. 

I am incredibly fatigued, sleeping without Harry and not knowing where he has been stressing me out, along with being unsure of my father and his mayhem. Now, I have Victoria’s corpse imprinted in my memory every time I close my eyes. I don’t want to shut my eyes and envision everything, but I am so exhausted that I have no choice. I closed my eyes just for a moment while Harry drove and I was in and out of sleep the rest of the ride. 

I briefly remember Harry waking me up and whispering in my ear that he couldn’t carry me, I had no real clue where we were, but all I remember is falling back asleep as soon as I had a soft place to fall. 

I breathe in the scent of clean sheets and I pull the covers further up my body while I open my eyes in an attempt to grasp my bearings. “Harry?” His name falls sleepily from my lips while I sit up, the room still blacked out from the curtains. 

“Go back to sleep,” Harry mumbles, tugging at the covers, “At my Mum’s, you’re fine,” Harry assures me, getting comfortable in the bed. 

I don’t think he understands that just because he claims that we are safe, it doesn’t mean I’m going to believe it at this point. 

I tilt my head to the side and watch the slight ray of sunshine slowly peek its way through the curtains while I think about the last few hours that have transpired. 

I can’t help but continue to remember walking away from Harry. I should have listened to him and stayed with him and Matthew, maybe then I wouldn’t have had to discover Victoria.

I remember I was walking along the stones, following the path when I was momentarily sidetracked by this scent that made me sick to my stomach, I thought nothing of it. I figured it was just a rodent or some sort of explanation that wasn’t a dead body. I fell over her body, quite literally, and the thought of remembering the incident causes my stomach to stir. 

With every day that passes, I become more and more aware of the fact that my father is immoral. I’m not sure what he has managed to get into, but whatever it is, it’s not good. Ultimately, I’m paying the consequences of his actions and decisions. I can’t blame him for everything, with us being royal, we are always at risk, but recently, it seems like we are at a higher risk, thanks to him. 

I benevolently shake Harry, being cautious not to touch his painful shoulder, Harry mumbles something inaudible against his pillow before lifting his head, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Harry sleepily asks, leisurely sitting himself up, his right hand beginning to reach to his side table. 

“You don’t need the gun,” I inform him, noticing what he is reaching for. I think it is a force of habit for him, he never really knows why I could be waking him, with all the dangerous events and evacuations, I don’t blame him for stretching for it while half asleep, unaware as to why I am waking him. 

Harry hums, “Then why the fuck am I awake?” He grumbles, not too pleased. 

“Do, do you think my Dad is losing it?” 

“What?” Harry asks, seeming a little confused. 

“Do you think he is losing the plot? Going senile? Literally going mentally insane?” It could make sense for him to be losing his mind.  

Senility can produce changes in mental health, such as memory loss or a decline in judgment. His judgment certainly hasn’t been the best when it comes to things, he put me in jeopardy when we went to Greece, he put us all in danger, he is angry all of the time and has acted out, firing a lot of the staff— He isn’t the Father I remember, he has been on a steady decline ever since he started to talk about handing me the crown, once he told the whole of Britain that he was hoping to hand things down to me by the end of the year, everything steadily got worse. personality or behaviour changes are another symptom but the only issue is that he is too young to be going senile, he is only fifty, surely he isn’t old enough to be going senile. Maybe he is clinically insane? Maybe I am clinically insane at this point, I feel like I am going insane. 

Harry blankly stares at me for a few moments, silence crowding the room. 

Harry shakes his head and lies back down, “Goodnight, Anastasia.” 

“Harry—”

“Go to sleep,” Harry mumbles, drawing the covers back up his body and becoming comfortable between the sheets. 

I heavily sigh and move my body closer to his, trying to get as close as possible without bothering him hurting him. Harry doesn’t speak, instead, he opens his arm and enables me to move closer, allowing him to settle his arm around me while I relax on his good shoulder. 

I listen to the melodious breaths of Harry while he falls asleep. I gaze up at the ceiling, trying to think of a logical solution for everything that has been occurring. 

Perhaps my Father is going senile. Perhaps my Father just has a lot of enemies. 

Perhaps the monarch is turning against my Father. 

Perhaps all of this is happening without logical explanations. 

Perhaps I need to find a way to pass the crown to someone else.

♔♔♔ ♔♔♔

Through the night, I was in and out of sleep, so was Harry, I could feel him shuffling around in the bed, trying to get comfortable and groaning every so often. Sleeping doesn’t come to me easily now, last night I was concerned about my father, I do not know where exactly he is or if he is okay. I genuinely think he is starting to lose his mind, it would explain his shift in behaviours. One minute he’s trying to marry me off and the next minute he’s angry at the world.  

I shift the covers around my body and groan, a desire to stay in bed overcoming me sharply as I gradually wake up to the sound of an unfamiliar voice down the hallway, “I heard there’s a princess, I want to meet her.” 

“Gemma, shh,” Harry hushes her, “She’s asleep, go away. You’re not following me in here,” Harry continues, doing his best to whisper but failing. 

I chuckle to myself as the door opens, “Damnit, Gemma, piss off,” Harry again mutters, pushing her arm away from the doorframe and closing the door behind him. 

Harry glances over at me and smiles, “I’m sorry, she’s uh— she wants to meet you.” 

“She wants to meet a princess.” I correct him. 

“Mhm,” Harry hums, “She doesn’t mean that in a bad way; she means no disrespect.” 

I sit up in the bed and shrug my shoulders, “Is ‘she’ your sister or?” I ask, unsure of who is summoning me and wanting to meet me. I know Harry has a sister, I have never met her so I can only assume the woman eager to meet me in the hallways’ is no other than his sister. 

Harry nods his head, “Yes, my sister who seems to have a problem with boundaries.” 

“Well,” I chuckle, pulling the covers towards my shoulders, “She sounds lovely.” 

“She’s a pest,” Harry responds, “But, she did bring some clothes for you,” Harry places a pair of leggings and a long sweater on the bed, “Mum bought some clothes while we were asleep for you to go through, probably warmer than this,” Harry holds up the white sweater. 

“I am sure it is fine,” I assure him, appreciative that his mother and sister were both kind enough to take into consideration that I have no clothes besides what I left London in. 

When I was woken up by Harry, I had no clue that we would be evacuating and I would have nothing besides the clothes on my back and my phone. 

“It’s a bit crisp this morning.”

“Says the person who isn’t wearing a shirt,” I point out. 

“Do you know how painful it is to put a shirt on without help? It was easier to just throw on the bloody sling and sweatpants. Should let my mother shop for me more, these are comfortable,” Harry gestures towards his pants, causing me to raise a brow. 

I can’t deny the fact that if it wasn’t for his damn shoulder, I’d gradually make my way closer to him, and allow my hands to flow across his shoulders before travelling themselves down his chest, where my thoughts would become entangled with only one—him.

My hands would examine the texture of his body, moderately working their way past his abs, and then my fingers would sweep across his V-line in a teasing matter where his sweatpants would fall to his ankles. 

I cock my head to the side, admiring the way his hair has been brushed but still appears rumpled, he has his sun-kissed tan from the summer and his few tattoos seem to catch my attention this morning. 

He has the body of a faultlessly chiselled sculpture and it’s destroying me in all ways. 

“Do I even want to ask what you’re thinking about?” Harry distracts me from my stare. 

I bite my lip and gaze up at him, trying my best to conceal my smirk. 

Harry clears his throat and begins to step around to my side, “You have that look.” 

“What look?” I innocently inquire. 

Harry leans down and kisses my lips sweetly, “The look where you want to make love,” Harry whispers, drawing away from my lips and enticing me further. 

“Why must you always say ‘make love’?” 

“Because fucking the princess just isn’t as romantic.” Harry outright responds, “Not very respectful.” 

“Whatever,” I roll my eyes, “Soooo…” I trail off with a grin. 

Harry sighs and shakes his head, “I can’t, Anna.” 

“How many times will you deny me until you give in? Talk about playing hard to get,” I huff, crossing my arms over my chest. 

I have lost count how many times I have been denied.

“I hate to break it to you, but you do realise I fucked my shoulder and can barely move it after carrying you last night?” 

“I had a better chance of getting anything out of you while you were on morphine.” I laugh, playfully teasing him.

Harry chuckles, “Probably,” he nods, “Believe me, I wish I still had my morphine.” 

“Mhm, change the subject, sounds about right.” 

“Spoilt.” Harry laughs, delighted by the fact I’m still sexually frustrated. 

I raise a brow at him, “Spoilt? Me? How? You haven’t touched me in quite some time.” 

“Anna… baby…” Harry sighs, “How about tonight?” 

“Last time I heard that, you ended up hurt and I was shoved in a bloody pantry thing, hiding from people who wanted to kill me, soooo.” I trail off, reminding him of the last time those words left his strawberry-red lips.

“I promise, tonight.” 

“I’ll be pissed if I’m shoved in a pantry.”

Harry smiles, “Nothing bad will happen, you won’t be shoved into pantries and your life won’t be on the line.” 

I grin at Harry and nod my head, agreeing that tonight will work, as long as nothing negative happens by then. 

“Mhm,” I hum, “Whatever you say,” I respond just as the door to the bedroom opens. 

Harry glances over his shoulder towards the door where his sister, I assume, stands, leaning on the doorframe with an angelic smile while locks of chestnut-brown hair curtain her face.

“Do I need to cutesy?” Gemma questions under her breath, staring at me half a smile painted across her lips. 

“Yes,” Harry responds with a smirk, watching his sister do her very best at curtsying to me. 

I raise a brow towards Harry before I shake my head, “No, I’m just Anastasia, I’m not a princess while I’m here,” I smile at her, not wanting anyone to treat me and different than what they would a normal civilian. I don’t expect them to curtsy to me or refer to me as ‘Princess,’ I expect nothing besides kindness, and that is what I have been shown so far. “He is just being a jerk,” I assure his sister. 

His sister nods her head, “It’s what he does best. I’m Gemma, his sister.” 

“Yes, this is my sister, who is very kindly interrupting,” Harry interjects as he pulls his phone from his pocket, “You at least could have knocked.” 

Gemma shrugs her shoulders and walks past Harry, not caring about his comments, “If you need any clothes, just let me know. I don’t know what Mum picked out but if you need anything, just ask.” 

“I need you to leave,” Harry smiles, and again, Gemma ignores him, entirely brushing him off and sorting through the clothes Harry placed on the bed from their mother. 

“Thank you, Gemma,” I appreciate her being kind. She doesn’t have to be nice to me and offer me her clothes, quite honestly, she doesn’t have to do anything for me, this is the first time she has met me. She has every reason to be standoffish with me. “I’m going to make coffee,” I push the covers of the sheets off my body, “Give you two time to catch up,” I wink towards Harry, well aware that he doesn’t get to see his family too often, I think it is best to give them some time, even if it is just a few minutes while I make coffee. 

♔♔♔

I walk down the hallway with two cups of coffee in my hands, making my way towards Harry’s childhood bedroom. The last time I tried to make our coffee, it did not go nearly as smoothly as it did this time. Not that it is a very big achievement, but I smile to myself, quite pleased with how my coffee turned out, even if it is a simple task. Making coffee in the palace is not something that I do, I never get the chance to— it is all done for me. I know how privileged and spoilt it makes me sound, but in all fairness, I would change things if I could. I want to be able to do mundane things such as making coffee and washing linens. 

“So, can you tell me what happened and why you’re up here?” Harry’s sister challenges him just as I stop outside the door.

“I could, but then I’d have to kill you.” 

“It can’t be that serious,” she scoffs. 

“Drop it,” Harry warns sternly, in a way I’d never expect him to act towards his sister. 

“You’re such a hardass, don’t forget you used to chase butterflies in the garden as a kid.” 

“I don’t pry about your job, don’t pry about mine.” 

“That’s because you’re an ass and never ask me about my job… not that it’s very interesting compared to yours.” 

“You think keeping your wife alive is interesting?” Harry snaps unhappily.

“Well, she isn’t your wife yet, but yes. Seems like the palace life is interesting… Speaking of which, Harry, are you sure you want this?” Gemma asks, causing my heart to sink in my chest. She doesn’t sound like she approves of our relationship. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Are you sure you want to marry into the royal family? It’s a big fucking deal… Putting aside all the shit I don’t know and the danger you’re currently in, do you realise how much work being a royal is? Your life will never be the same again.” 

“There’s a reason we are keeping it quiet. I love her, I want to be with her, I don’t care about the royal family and the monarchy narrative, I care about her.” 

“You have to care about the monarch because you’ll be a part of it, Harry. She won’t choose you over the crown, she can't hand it off to someone else. You won’t be normal.” Gemma explains the things that I have already tried to explain to Harry before. He is aware things aren’t normal. 

“I don’t want her to choose me over the crown, I’ve accepted she has major responsibilities, I know what I’m getting into, Gemma. I don’t need you to tell me what I’m getting into, I see it every day, you just read about it in history books and on social media.” 

“I’m making sure you understand that this isn’t going to be easy. You won’t work, you will do royal duties, is that what you want? You should be working towards being the president of operations, not suddenly becoming royalty.” 

“I’m aware. I’m a big boy, I can make my own decisions. I can still work security, I don’t want Matthew’s job right now. I’m marrying her, if you don’t like it then that’s just too bad. I’m not here for your approval, quite frankly I’m not here at all for you.” 

“There you go being an arse.”

“You bring out the asshole in me when you act like I’m not capable of making decisions. I’m your little brother, I get it, but I thought you of all people would be more accepting. I expected mum to be the one to convince me not to marry her, instead, mum's the one who encouraged me to propose. I had my doubts, I know I’m not good enough for her, she deserves Prince Charming and I’m just some guy from the country-side who became her security… but damnit I try every day to be the man she needs, so do me a favour and at least pretend to like her until we leave.” 

“I do like her, Harry.” 

“Then this conversation doesn’t need to go any further,” Harry dismisses her and I let out a breath. 

I should have walked away when I heard them talking, I shouldn’t have listened in to the conversation because now I don’t know how I feel about everything.

If his sister doesn’t have faith in us then who the fuck will? 

“I have coffee,” I announce, pretending like I didn’t hear them as I step into the bedroom and hand Harry his coffee. 

Harry kisses my cheek and takes the cup from my hand, wasting no time with taking a sip, “Much better than last time,” Harry grins. 

“I’ll leave you two to settle in, I have some sewing to do,” Gemma excuses herself politely, standing up from her position on the bed and walking out without saying anything further. 

I look towards Harry, wanting to question things but there is a time and a place, right now isn’t the right time. I can’t start something at this hour of the morning, I don’t want to start our day on a shitty note. 

♔♔♔ ♔♔♔

Harry grins at me while he launches a blanket towards me and makes his way towards the open fireplace that has been roaring since sunset. He pokes the logs a little before adding the last log to the fire, ambers crackling and disbursing in their brilliant colours of red and apricot. 

He comes closer to me and kisses my cheek before falling beside me and getting comfortable, his hand making sure to move the blanket so I’m covered and warm. “Have you found a dress you like, love?” 

I shake my head and hand him my tea, “No, it’s hard when I need to try them on,” I answer. 

Just because it seems good online it doesn’t mean it’ll look good in person, wedding dress shopping without a boutique is harder than one would think. “Starting to wonder if we should just get married at the courthouse.” 

Harry shakes his head immediately, “No, you deserve the dress of your dreams at the very least.” 

“Harry, I don’t need it… I just want to get married. We can go to the courthouse.” 

“Anna—“ 

“Jus’ think about it? Your Mum understands where I’m coming from.” 

“My mother agreed with you?” Harry raises a brow. 

“Can you just think about it?” 

“You want me to just take you to the courthouse?” 

“I don’t see why not.” 

“You’d be happy to go to the courthouse right now and get married? No dress, no family, nothing?” Harry questions. 

“Yes.” 

Harry nods his head and sighs before standing to his feet, “I’m going to bed.” 

“Are you mad?” I question, watching as he begins to walk away, “Harry?” 

He turns and peers over at me, “No, are you coming to bed?” Harry questions while walking down the hallway, leaving me by myself in the living room.

I wander into his bedroom and close the door, “Are you seriously upset with me? You can’t just walk away from a conversation because you don’t—“ I begin to express my frustration with him walking away from me and the conversation about our wedding, but I’m swiftly cut off by his lips hitting mine and his body pushing me against the wall. 

He drags his mouth from my own and leaves sweet kisses down my jawline, moving to my neck, “Not mad,” he mumbles against my warm skin, causing my heart to skip a beat. 

His hand slips under my shirt and we begin to dance our way to the bed before he pushes me to fall to the bed.

Before anything more, Harry’s phone begins to ring, causing him to drag his mouth from my own, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Harry huffs, reaching over and grabbing his phone from the side table. “Hello?” Harry snaps in an unhappy tone, making it a point to show he has been inconvenienced. “Matthew, I’m busy right now, I can’t drive…. What? You’re out front already? Well, fuck, give me a few minutes to get dressed…” Harry hangs up the phone and looks at me. “Anna, I’m so sorry…” 

I shake my head and heavily sigh, “It’s fine. What’s happening?” 

Harry kisses my cheek before forcing himself off the bed and makes his way towards some of his clothes his Mum graciously bought him, “I have to work with Matthew.” 

“What do you mean?” I question, unsure of what Harry means. He shouldn’t be having to work, he’s on my service and there is nothing for him to do besides make sure I’m safe. My parents are in other places, so it isn’t as though he had to escort them anywhere. 

Harry’s hesitant to speak and takes a moment of silence to gather the right words to say, “We need to handle some stuff at Windsor and Buckingham.” 

“You’re driving back to London? I don’t think you should be driving at this hour.” 

Harry shakes his head, “Matthew is.” 

“Why though?” 

“Anastasia, you don’t want to know.” 

I shake my head and sigh, “I’d like to know. Seems suspicious to me.” I am not trying to start an argument by any means, I just want to know where he is going and why. With everything that has happened and how my world is entirely upside down, it makes me feel better to know what is going on instead of being left in he dark or being blindsided. 

“Anna, you make my job hard sometimes,” Harry mutters, “I have to go and help move Victoria.” 

“What?” My eyes grow wide while he does his best to pull on a sweater. 

“You heard me, I need to go move her,” he responds. 

I look at him, bewildered by the fact that he’s having to do such a thing, the sheer idea of him going back in the tunnels to her makes me uneasy. 

I flashback to what I saw in the tunnels and her lifeless body lying on the concrete. 

I don’t want to ask any more questions, I don’t need any more answers, nor do I want to know any. I don’t want to be apart of anything that has to do with Victoria right now. 

♔♔♔ ♔♔♔

I’m pulled from my slumber when Harry gently caresses his hand to my arm and kisses my cheek, “Hey, Baby,” Harry whispers, “I’m home.”

I gradually push myself up on my elbow, grasping my focus as Harry kisses my forehead, “Go back to sleep.” Harry adjusts the covers, drawing them more towards my side of my bed before placing a phone down on my side table, “Your new phone to call your parents off.” 

“Why do I need a new phone?” I tiredly question, unsure of why the old one that I have is being replaced. 

“Precautions to make sure it isn’t tapped and tracked, I will get rid of your old one when I wake up. Now, go back to sleep.” 

Ever since Harry left, I’ve been uneasy and sick to my stomach, I’m not sure what it is but even just hearing her name managed to unsettle me. I move to sit up against the pillows while Harry places his phone and wallet on the side table on my side as well, “Go to sleep, it’s four in the morning.” 

I shake my head and Harry sits down on the edge beside me, “Why? Are you having nightmares about everything?” He softly asks, remembering the last time I was up here and the fact Henry left me with nightmares the first night.  

“No… I’m not feeling too well.” 

Harry presses his hand to my forehead, “Well, no temperature. Do you want me to go get you anything?” 

“No, it’s okay,” I half-smile at him, “Get in bed, you’re probably exhausted.” 

Harry shakes his head, “Move forward a bit,” Harry instructs, gently pressing his hand to my back, “I’ll stay up with you,” he continues, beginning to rub soothing circles on my back. “Would you like tea or a heating pad?” 

“I’d like for life to settle down, Harry.” 

“I am doing my best to make it happen.”

“You can’t,” I sigh. 

There isn’t much that Harry can do to settle life and normalise things. None of this is his fault, my family issues do not stem from him, but I can’t help but continue to replay the conversation in my head that he has with his sister. 

Harry doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve inconsistency and scrutiny of things. He deserves a lovely girl who is normal, someone that will make sure dinner is on the table when he gets home from a long day at work and will pour him a drink to his liking. Harry deserves someone who isn’t in the spotlight of the world and who doesn’t need to be watched twenty-four-seven. Although I am aware that he does deserve better, the selfish part of me doesn’t want to care. 

Harry swears up and down this is what he wants and that he is aware of what he is getting into, but due to the current events, I don’t even know what I am getting into anymore. I don’t know what each day will hold, for all I know, by tomorrow morning I could be whisked off to America because there is suddenly another threat— things are unpredictable.

“Harry,” I begin with a soft voice, “Is this what you want?” 

“To be awake at this hour? No.” Harry shakes his head. 

I don’t think anyone wants to be awake at this hour.

“No,” I shake my head, “Us? Getting married and being apart of royalty.” 

Harry continues to rub my back, “I want to marry you, I thought that was pretty clear.” 

“But you do know it won’t be easy, right? You know that being married to a Queen will have disadvantages, right?” 

“I accepted that when you said you would not abdicate and refuse the crown. I want to marry you, where is all this coming from?” 

“If it came down to it, Harry, I would give up the crown for us, but right now I cannot. There is nobody to take it that is a good fit, the monarch would go into the hands of a distant cousin and I don’t want to risk that. I don’t want to risk us either, it is going to be hard, it won’t be easy, and… and you won’t have as much freedom, you deserve the life you want to live.” 

“Mhm,” Harry hums, “Anna, did my sister say something to you?” Harry instantly questions. 

I shake my head, “No.” 

“You heard her conversation, didn’t you?” 

I don’t respond, I stay closed-lipped and allow the silence to penetrate the bedroom. “Shouldn’t eavesdrop, darling,” Harry heavily sighs before I feel him press a kiss to my shoulder, “I know what I am getting into, my sister overstepped her mark, I can make my decisions. I want to marry you, let’s get some sleep.” Harry continues, moving to kiss my cheek, “I love you, don’t forget that,” Harry adds, carefully moving beside me. 

“Just making sure this is what you want.” 

“If it wasn’t, I wouldn’t be here.” 

“You have no choice, you’re the bodyguard,” I chuckle. 

Harry shakes his head, “I don’t have to be in bed with you, and I don’t have to be planning a wedding. Don’t overthink it, ignore my sister. Your bodyguard is tired and would like to sleep.” Harry presses, pulling the covers over his body

♔♔♔

Harry’s POV

The rain has been falling heavily for the last hour, and it's almost like the heavens have ultimately decided to open up and they don’t want to close. 

I stare down at the steam emanating from my hot tea, my hands cupped around the edges, the heat radiating warmth through my body. 

I should be curled up in bed with the gracious covers around me and my beautiful partner beside me, asleep, instead, I’m perched at the kitchen table, staring into an abyss of a cup looking for answers that I’m sure I won’t be able to discover. Most people find answers at the bottom of a bottle, and I am almost at the point of finding a bottle of whiskey but I don’t think that will solve much. 

There are a few things I need to figure out.

Why Victoria is dead and why she was in the tunnels.

How long before Victoria is reported missing and whether she will be found.

How I explain things to Anastasia.

When will things go back to normal? 

If I could come up with a resolution for everything, perhaps life would be a little bit more indulgent, unfortunately, at some point, things became so hectic that I don’t have any answers. I think the next time I have a cup of coffee, I will need to add a shot of whiskey to it. I require something to help calm me down and soothe these damn questions that I can’t figure out. I feel as though I am attempting to piece together a puzzle that doesn’t have all the pieces. I am sure that the king has more pieces to this puzzle that he will not reveal just yet. 

I can’t begin to imagine how Anastasia feels, it lies heavily on my mind and I don’t know how to ask her how she is processing everything. Even if she does open up and tell me how she feels about the chaos, there isn’t much I can do besides console her and hold her. I am useless purely because I do not have answers for any of the questions that could be asked. I  know she will have questions, she always has questions. 

“Why do you look so glum?” My sister distracts me from my drowning thoughts. 

I glance up from my mug and discover my sister stepping closer, her hair thrown up in a bun and her sweater falling off her shoulder as she yawns. 

“I thought you moved out years ago?” 

She rolls her eyes at my comment, “Likewise… Some of us visit our mother and stay for a few days.” 

I don’t respond, I just take a sip of my tea, not wanting to banter with her at this hour. “So, why are you so glum? Where’s your princess?” 

I glare at my sister and she curls her lips up into a smirk. She’s doing this to purposely piss me off. 

As kids, we continuously took the piss out of each other and found ways to get under each other’s skin, and usually, I’d be all for our banter, but right now, I’m exhausted and I don’t want backhanded comments… especially when it comes to Anna who is on the direct path of an emotional breakdown. 

“Do you not like her or something?” I asked with irritation, unsure of where my sister stands when it comes to my relationship. 

Whether my sister likes her or not, it doesn’t change my decisions of marrying her, but I’d still like to know my sister’s thoughts. 

“I do,” my sister nods. 

“Then what is with the damn comments when it comes to my relationship.” 

My sister lifts her shoulders into a shrug, “Daddy Issues.” 

I roll my eyes and sigh, “You’re annoying. Dad treated you well…. daddy issues my fucking ass,” I shake my head at her, attempting not to laugh at her comment. 

Contrary to popular belief, we always got along with our father, he wasn’t the villain in our family story. Our parents went their separate ways but it wasn’t for any drastic reason like he was an asshole or cheated, no. 

Our parents outgrew each other and weren’t on the same path when it came to life— they had different goals and aspirations— they were perfect for each other until they weren’t. They served their purpose together and split ways civilly. They can see each other in the street and have a conversation, and they can see each other at family events pertaining to my sister and me, there’s no issue there. 

“I like her, I do, I just like to aggravate you. Can’t believe my little brother is in love.” 

“Mhm… Well, it would be nice if you were a little nicer to her. I know being nice isn’t apart of your personality, but she could use with nice people around her.” 

My sister isn’t the nicest of people sometimes, she is a hard person to read. My sister is highly sarcastic, sassy and very hard to get a grip on whether she likes you or not. There is a fine line between her liking you and disliking you— a fine line that is hard to distinguish. 

“I’m nice,” my sister defends, “I bought her clothes!” 

“Gemma…” I trail off, “She heard our conversation yesterday and thinks you don’t approve of her.” 

“Harry, that was me just looking out for you and making sure you know what you’re getting into. I read the news articles, I’ve read the biographies of past royals—“ 

“That’s different. I don’t care what you read and how you keep up with the history of the royals, but be nice to her, and don’t give her any doubts.” 

“She has doubts?” My sister questions.

I nod my head, “She heard our conversation and cried over it, so just keep your comments to a minimum.” 

“Is that why you’re so glum and seem like you’ve had your firstborn son taken from you?” 

I shake my head and leave my cup on the table before I bury my face into my hands and rub my face out of frustration and exhaustion. “I have a girl in there sleeping while her world is turned upside down. I haven’t slept because I had the privilege of moving a corpse, and if that isn’t enough, some of Anastasia’s jewellery was taken from Buckingham and I don’t know how to tell her.” 

“What kind of jewellery?” 

“Her expensive pieces and the ones I bought her. I don’t know how they took her stuff but didn’t manage to take the royal collections.” 

“Have you checked the pawn shops?” 

“Gemma,” I begin, “I haven’t had time to track down her jewellery, I was busy moving a fucking body.” 

“Are you going to tell her?” 

“I don’t want to… maybe? I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m doing. Starting to think running away with her is the best option.” 

In all honesty, life would be better off somewhere else, less drama. 

“Give me a list of items taken and I’ll find them. You should tell her, don’t have a closed-off communication, that will make things worse.” 

“What are you? Sherlock Holmes?” … “I don’t know if she can handle it, Gemma.”

I don’t want this to be what pushes her over the edge. 

“I have a few friends in the jewellery industry, just give me a list and we will see what we can do.” 

“Where were your jewellery friends when I was looking for a diamond ring?”  

“You never told me you were looking for a ring,” Gemma responds with a chuckle. 

She has a point, I did not tell my sister, sometimes I don’t confide in her all the time, she tends to come to me more than I go to her when it comes to things

“Mhm,” I hum, “I need you to keep an eye out for any suspicious activity or people around here. If anyone saw us moving the body, they’ll come for me or her family.”

“Oh, great, so we are at threat?” 

“Not you,” I shake my head. “Just me, her and her family. Nothing major,” I half-smile, trying not to scare my sister, “I’m going to go back to bed now and check on Anna,” I dismiss my sister before she can say anything in return. 

I walk down the hallway with my thoughts rattling my brain. 

How am I meant to tell her someone somehow stole some of her personal items? 

It is incredibly creepy that someone managed to get in her room. It had to have been done while we were away or after we had moved them into Windsor. I’m not sure how anyone can get into Buckingham and take her jewels, Buckingham is highly surveillance. 

I’m not sure what I’m meant to say to her, “Good morning, I love you… oh, and by the way, some of your jewellery was stolen.” — I don’t think that would be suitable for a morning wake up call. 

As my hand reaches for the doorknob of my old childhood bedroom, my phone rings. I heavily sigh and quickly grab it from the pocket of my sweatpants and quickly answer it, not wanting to wake Anastasia or my mother down the hallway. 

“Hello?” 

“Harry, my best pal,” Matthew cheers on the other end of the phone. 

I raise a brow, well aware that he’s trying to butter me up, “I saw you a few hours ago, what do you need?” 

“We need to have a bonding session.” 

“We bonded last night,” I respond, “I don’t think we need to bond,” I chuckle, walking towards the living room to pace the area without disturbing anyone. 

“I think we do.” 

“What needs to be done this time?” I sigh, unsure of what entails this bonding session. 

Surely it can’t be worse than last night. 

“We need to report to the king.” 

“He’s in the Netherlands,” I remind Matthew. 

“I’m aware, he needs us, we have things to take care of.” 

“What does this entail?” 

Matthew goes quiet before he clears his throat, “My engine light is flashing red like a code red sort of flashing, you should look at it. Come outside and look at it,” Matthew instructs, forcing me to read between the lines. 

Code red… code red… code red means the king needs us to do something under the radar that shouldn’t be spoken about over the phone or with anybody else. 

I hang up my phone and I walk my way to the front door. I take a break and I open the door to Matthew standing on the porch with an umbrella by his side. “Get your shit, we’re flying to the king.” Matthew bluntly instructs, not batting an eye with his instructions.

I heavily sigh, “Matthew, what do we have to do?” 

“I don’t know yet… but it isn’t pretty.” 

“Matthew, I physically can’t do any more dirty work, I can barely move my shoulder at this point,” I inform Matthew of the fact I’m not meant to be hauling dead bodies off and tampering with evidence to take the media attention away from the King and his family. 

I’m meant to still be on bed rest and taking it easy. I wish I was bedridden with morphine, this shit is getting to be too much to have to handle.

Matthew nods his head, “I understand, but this is important, code red sort of important, just like last night was a code red. Let’s go, you’ll be back tonight.” 

“Let me tell them I’m leaving,” I respond before stepping back inside the house. 

I find Gemma at the table with her iPad and a cup of coffee in her hand, her eyes gazing up towards me while I walk closer, “I need to go, tell mum I’ll be back tonight, be nice to Anastasia and tell mum to check the security systems, keep the doors locked.” 

“Do I need to be—“ 

“No,” I cut my sister off, “You don’t need to be concerned, just precautionary,” I respond, walking away from her before she can say anything. 

I step into my bedroom and walk closer to the bed, I sit on the edge beside Anastasia’s sleeping body. I gently press my hand to her arm, “Hey, sweetheart,” I whisper, slowly waking her up, “Hey, it’s just me,” I assure her as soon as her eyes open. 

“Harry,” she mumbles my name sleepily, causing me to smile. 

“I have to go, I’ll be back tonight, don’t worry though, you’re safe with Mum. Call me if you need me,” I lean down and kiss her forehead, “The gun is in the drawer beside you, Mum and my sister know what to do if anything happens, not that it will, just makin’ sure okay?” 

Anastasia hums her response and I adjust the covers for her and stand to my feet. Her hand wraps around my wrist and I look down at her, “Be careful, okay?”

I nod my head, “I will, I love you.” 

“Promise? I love you too.” 

“I promise,” I agree, giving her a small smile before taking my keys and wallet off the side table and stepping out of the bedroom. 

♔♔♔

I walk through the front door of my mother's house, more than thankful to finally be home. I feel the warmth wrap around my body and welcome me, and I couldn’t be happier. The flight home was fucking cold after we were stuck in the rain for a while, not to mention the drive from the airport to my mothers was just as miserable, Matthews rental car didn’t have heat, we both shivered and cussed the world for our problems. We tried to stop at the liquor store to find a bottle of whiskey to warm us up, but they were closed, we even tried to find a hotel but all hotels had no vacancy out here, so we suffered through the cold. 

I wander down the hallway and my mother stands to her feet from the couch, instantly coming to me, “You look like hell.” 

“Thanks, you’re so sweet,” I chuckle as she takes my shirt and jacket from my arm, “Mum, I can wash it and—“ 

She cuts me off, “Shut up,” my mother shakes her head checking to make sure the pockets are empty, “You’re cold, here grab a blanket,” my mother frets, stepping away and grabbing a blanket from the couch, wrapping it around me like a little kid. 

“Thanks, Mum,” I smile at her before I kiss her cheek. “I appreciate you, how was your day?” 

“Clearly better than yours,” My mum grins and I nod my head in agreement. I think most people have had a better day than I have. “I spent it inside reading and helping your sister sew, I don’t know why she wants to sew but she doesn’t need to be near my sewing machine,” my mother chuckles sweetly to herself. 

I can only imagine how it turned out with my sister sewing or attempting to sew. My sister is very talented but there are just some things she shouldn’t even try, sewing and most crafts are not one.

“I’d take teaching her to sew over what I had to do, any day.” 

“What did you have to do?” 

I shake my head, “I can’t talk about it, I’m not allowed to… maybe later I can tell you, just not right now,” I respond. 

My mother nods her head and shrugs, she knows there are some things better left unsaid, and today is one of them, “Anastasia has been quiet, slept most the day, I think something is wrong.” 

“Is she still unwell? I’ll check on her.” 

“She didn’t seem too well, but we did talk a little about the wedding. She is excited about it, by the way, but she hasn’t had a chance to try on dresses.” 

“I’ll take care of it, if it ever stops raining, I have a plan.” 

“And that is?” My mother questions curiously. 

“I’ll tell you more In the morning, goodnight, Mum.” I cheekily grin, folding up the blanket and placing it down before walking into the kitchen to make a tea. 

♔♔♔ 

I enter my bedroom and close the door behind me silently, just in case Anastasia is sound asleep. I observe Anna curled up in the bed, the comforter wrapped around her, “Hey,” she smiles tiredly towards me. 

“Hey, Mum said you still weren’t feeling well, thought I’d bring you a tea,” I hold up the mug, stepping closer to her and sitting on the edge of the bed beside her while she sits up. 

“Thanks, where have you been?” 

I grow withdrawn for a moment, unsure of what to tell her, I didn’t think of the cover story that I would tell her, it didn’t cross my mind. I have been too busy to thin about what to tell her.  “Harry?” She takes the cup from my hand and narrows her eyes down on me. 

“I’m not allowed to talk about.” 

“But…” 

“I was with your Dad, he says hi,” I inform her of her father’s request. The brief times I did manage to speak to him, he was insistent that I make sure I pass his message on, “He loves you and can’t wait to give you a hug.” 

“Sounds shady.” 

She isn't wrong, it is ALL shady; I would prefer to forget about the last few nights that have occurred.

“That’s because it is,” I nod my head, “It isn’t getting any better at this point.”

“I told you I think he’s losing his mind.” 

“I would be too if I had angry people coming after me,” I mutter, “But it's okay,” I quickly assure her, not wanting to scare her any further or cause her more stress. I am doing my best to destress her situations and fix things. 

Anastasia heavily sighs and rolls her eyes, “Is there a way to fix the mess he has created?” 

“Sort of.” 

“Then why don’t we do it?” 

“Anna—“ 

“Don’t leave me in the dark, Harry, it isn’t fair. I’m just as affected by this mess.” 

“You really don’t want to know my solution.” 

“Why? Why are we not going ahead with the solution.” 

“It’s highly illegal.” 

“I’m not sure I understand.” 

“Anastasia… How do you deal with people who have too much power, such as those in the mafia or with affiliations with the mafia?” 

“I don’t know, Harry. Stop cat and mousing me, tell me your plan.” Anna snaps before pressing her fingers to her temple and rubbing her temple. 

I wish I could fix things for her and give her a normal life. I am doing my best but right now, I am failing. 

I sigh as she takes a sip of her tea, “Anna… fight fire with fire…” 

Her eyes burn with hatred as she glares towards me, her lips screwed into irritation, “You’re being annoying.” 

“Jus’ don’t worry about it, okay?” I lean over and kiss her forehead. “Let me handle it.” 

“I don’t like how you’re handling it.” 

“Well, I am sorry. How are you feeling?” 

“You’re changing the subject,” Anastasia is prompt to point out the obvious. 

There are some things that are better left unsaid. Where I was and what I was doing is best unknown at the moment. 

“What happened to you? What’s on your shirt?” Anastasia leans forward and presses her hand to my shirt, looking closely. 

I look down and grab the white material between my fingers, stretching it so I can what Anna is looking at.

Fuck. 

“Oh, Matthew accidentally cut himself trying to open a box and I guess he got his blood on me, no big deal,” I lie straight to her face, beginning to unbutton my shirt, wasting no time with sliding it down my arms as I stand to my feet. 

“Do you want to lie to me again?”

“No, but I need to talk to you about something, some of your jewellery has been taken.” 

Anastasia doesn’t respond and I turn to gaze at her over my shoulder, “Anna?” 

“I heard you. There’s nothing I can do, it is just jewellery.” 

“I will get it back for you, I will do my best, darling, I promise.” 

“You got mail, it is on the dresser over there,” Anastasia points to the dresser and I step closer to it, taking the envelopes in my hand. 

“These are for you,” I inform her, looking down at the envelopes that seem familiar, they’re dressed as they would be If they were going to the palace for her to read and reply back with, but there is something odd about the envelopes, they’re all the same with the same handwriting but one is addressed to me. “Where did you get these?” 

“Your sister said they were in the mail, I haven’t opened it, I assumed mine were letters from the public for me to read and reply to, I just haven’t had the energy to do it.” 

“No, but how did they get here?” 

“I am guessing my carrier, Harry,” Anastasia responds, “How else would they get here? Throw me mine so I know whether I need to reply to them.” 

I shake my head, flipping the letters over and seeing that there is no return address, “Baby, these aren’t forwarded from the Palace,” I inform her, placing hers back down on the dresser and sliding my finger through the edge of the one addressed to me. 

“How do you know?” 

“I didn’t give the Palace a forwarding address for your mail.”

“Why not? I still have duties to attend to.” 

“First of all, you’re sick and don’t need to be worrying about it, second of all, it isn’t safe to have mail forwarded because then people will know where you are.” 

“You don’t need to tell me what I need to be worrying about,” Anastasia responds, not too pleased with my comment. 

“Okay,” I sigh, “Fair point, I was out of line, but nobody needs to know where you are right now,” I return, unfolding my letter and opening it up to read what it says. 

“I know about you and Anastasia, you can run but you can’t hide.” 

I take a breath and fold the letter back up, grabbing Anastasia’s as well in my hand. “What are the letters for?” 

I rub a hand over my dark stubble before shaking my head, “Nothing, I’m going to take a shower.”

“You’ve been spending too much time with my father.” 

“What?” I question as Anastasia pushes the covers off her body and gets out of bed. 

“You heard me, you’re acting just as shady as he is, and quite honestly, I don’t like it.” 

“You’re paranoid, go back to bed,” I respond, stepping into the bathroom and flicking the light on, only for Anastasia to follow me. “Are you joining me in the shower?” I raise a brow cheekily, attempting to distract her from the argument she is most likely ready to create— she has a valid reason for being irritated and wanting answers, but I don’t need her to worry. I don’t want her to be consumed even further by what is happening or by what could happen. 

I am trying my best to protect her from the shit show that is currently going on, she has dealt with more than enough and at this point, I am going to do everything that I can to not push her over the fucking edge. I know she is close to the edge and I will be damned if she goes over it. 

“I don’t think I am paranoid, Harry. I don’t like this. Why can’t you be honest with me?” Anastasia questions while I turn the knob to begin the water to heat up. 

I turn to face her and I step closer to her, “I am being honest, believe me when I say there are some things better left unknown, please don’t make this harder than what it already is.” 

Anastasia pulls her hand away from my own and stares at me relentlessly, “Seems like everything is left unknown until it boils into something bad that can’t be hidden.” 

I nod my head, “What is it you want to know?” 

“Where were you?” 

“With your Father. We had to have a private conversation, can I have my shower now?” 

“This conversation isn’t over,” Anastasia dismisses me and I heavily sigh as she storms out of the bathroom. 

This is bound to be an interesting night. Just when I thought that things could possibly settle down, I now have to face her. I lean on the vanity and stare into the mirror, taking in deep breaths in an attempt to think things through in a way that won’t destroy her.  

I am not sure how to explain the mail, unfortunately, this isn’t the first letter I have received in the last month or so, I don’t think it will be the last, but I do know that it seems like whoever is sending these letters knows my every move. Nobody knows that we are here beside her parents and Matthew, the new guy doesn't even know, Matthew put him on paid leave until we need him. The only thing I can think of is someone within the palace staff has managed to figure things out and is trying to leak information… I highly doubt her parents would be behind the letters, although that would be a plot twist, I can’t say that it wouldn’t be something that could happen, after all, nothing seems to be off the table at this point. It is time I tell Matthew about the mail I have been receiving, and it is time for us to come up with a plan to figure out who is behind it all. At first, I didn’t think much of it all, but now with them sending things to my mother's house, it shows they are watching me- they’re watching Anna. 

I pick up the envelope with Anastasia’s name on the front of it and I open it, holding my breath with every inch of the paper that rips between my fingers. I take the piece of paper out, slowly unfolding it before I read the ink scribbled on the paper. 

“I know about you and Harry… It will all be revealed soon. Stay alert, Princess, you’re next.”

I fold the letter back up and I place it in the envelope, not wanting to even see what the other one says. I believe these are empty threats by someone bored and lonely, probably a normal civilian, but at the same time, there is a part of me that is concerned it is one of the people who Is after her father. They’re not going to stop until the Ace’s get what they want and the King refuses to give up his power and money to them. He has paid his dues and that isn’t enough for that money-hungry family. 

It could be Henry, I wouldn’t be too surprised if he is the one behind this, but I have this feeling the reasons for his previous behaviours weren't based on his logical thinking but more so his mothers. I think his mother was behind a lot of his erratic and psychotic behaviour, I think his mother is the true evil one. I am not remorseful that she is no longer living, quite honestly, it was just a matter of time before she did more damage to Anastasia’s family. Anna doesn’t know this, but I have been watching Victoria from the moment I met her at the Garden party. On my off days, I would do my best to follow her in an attempt to figure her out, she didn’t do many things out of the ordinary, but there were a few red flags that I did take note off, none of which were enough to build too much against her in such a short time. Matthew did his best to keep track of Henry and Victoria and the one thing we can’t seem to figure out is… Who is Henry’s father? 

There is no name attached to the man that the King was talking to, there was never a man around at the Garden event that introduced himself as Henry’s father. I have tried to look up birth certificates but I can’t find Henry’s, I can’t even find Victoria’s marriage certificate. 

I push away from the vanity and take my suit pants off, dropping my clothes to the floor before getting in the shower. The steaming hot water hits my body and I feel a sense of stress leaving my body for a brief moment. My body isn’t cold and shivering and all the negative things that I have dealt with in the last two days are washing down the drain, hopefully, to never return. 

My shower wasn’t as peaceful as I had hoped, my thoughts kept reminding me of everything happening, almost to the point I wish I had an excuse to call the nurse for more morphine, although my shoulder is still painful, there is no way the King or Matthew will allow me to sleep peacefully with morphine and no pain and no worries. Oh, how I took it for granted to be able to sleep all day and not deal with the issues happening in the Royal world. 

I step out of the shower and Anastasia is leaning on the doorframe with a blanket wrapped around her body, I raise a brow but I do not say anything as she watches me reach for my towel and wrap it around my lower body. From the way her lips are pressed firmly together and the way her eyes watch my every move, she isn’t watching me because she finds me charming and good looking, no, she is watching me because she has things to say or she is trying to read me in an attempt to figure shit out. 

I shuffle closer to her and press a kiss to her cheek as I slide past her, still not saying a word. I step towards the clothes my mother bought me and I pull out a clean pair of sweatpants, wasting no time with pulling them up my legs before running the towel through my hair to dry it briefly. I place the towel in the hamper and glance over to Anastasia who has her arms crossed over her chest. “How’d you get the blood on your white shirt? That is going to be hard to get out.” Anastasia gestures towards the shirt I let fall to the floor before I went into the bathroom. 

I heavily sigh as I pick it up from the floor, “I told you.” 

“That was a lie, you and I know that.” 

“Anastasia, please don’t,” I shake my head. I don’t want to explain today to her. 

“You’re unbelievable.” 

“Please, don’t be mad with me, it is for your own-“ 

Anastasia rolls her eyes, “Jus’ don’t worry about it,” Anastasia cuts me off, “I hope you’re not turning into my father, I really don’t.” Anastasia informs me as she walks into the bathroom. 

“Anna, don’t be angry with me,” I slump my shoulders as she closes the door. 

I fall to the edge of the bed and run my fingers through my hair. I have fucked up with not telling her, I do not blame her for being upset, but as I have said, it is for her safety. I am not sure who I am attempting to convince more, myself or her. 

It is hard to draw a line between my job and being her partner, sometimes there isn’t even a line, sometimes I have to choose which one I want to take the role of. 

After a few minutes of staring at the bathroom door, waiting for her to exit, I force myself to my feet and walk to the door, I knock on the door, “Anna? I know you’re mad but you don’t need to lock yourself in the bathroom.” … “Anna? Are you okay?” I question, getting no response before I take it upon myself to open the door. 

I see Anastasia resting on the floor with her back against the bathtub, “The world doesn’t revolve around you,” she half chuckles, “Do you really think I would lock myself in here because I am mad?” 

“Well… I-, I I am an idiot, we know this already… You okay?” 

“I have never been better, I mean, after all, I have no clue what is happening with anything, I fell over a dead body, I have been whisked away from my home indefinitely because people are after my father, and to top it off, my soon to be husband is acting weird and shady.” 

“I meant how you felt.” 

Anastasia simply shakes her head and I sit down beside her, I slip my arm around her lower back and she rests her head on my shoulder, “Not trying to argue with you, or be mad with you, Harry.” Anastasia softly whispers, “I just hate all of this. I don’t want you to be like Dad.”

“I know, baby, I know,” I nod my head even though she can’t see me. “I do too. I am not your Dad. I just work for him and take his orders.” 

“Are we going to get through all of this, Harry?” 

“We will, it’ll all be okay,” I assure her, attempting to comfort her even though I don’t know what’ll happen next. I can’t tell her that it’ll be smooth sailing from here because I don’t know if it will, but I do know that she and I will be okay. 

“You’re not going to want to leave?” 

“Of course not, nothing your father causes will make me want to leave. I’m here for the long haul, I’m here to hold your hair when you’re sick, even if you’re mad at me,” I inform her and she gently nudges me. 

“I’m not mad,” she mumbles. 

I’m here to be a shoulder you can cry on, I’m here for it all. I’m here for all the good times and the bad times, I’m here for as long as you’ll have me. I’m in this completely. I hate that you’re doubting me though.” 

“Everything is just a mess.” 

“It’ll all be okay, do you want to get in bed? It’s a bit warmer than these cold tiles.” 

“No, I feel sick.” 

“Okay, we will stay here,” I respond, kissing the top of her head. 

“You can go to bed, I’ll be fine.”

“And what fun will that be? Won’t have you to steal the covers,” I half-heartedly joke with her, trying my best to lighten the mood. “Plus, when the wife says to go back to bed, you never go back to bed, it’s a catch. Never leave the wife when she’s unwell.” 

“You left me today.” 

“I had to and you were asleep.” 

“Left your sick fiancé to see my father.” 

“Your father pays my bills,” I respond with a small laugh. 

“Mhm,” Anastasia hums, “Do you love me enough to go to the store and get me anti-nausea meds? this is horrible.” 

“I would, but everything closes out here at ten. We can call your royal doctor, she has all sorts of great meds.” 

“You really love her, don’t ye’?” Anastasia finally manages to giggle, “Must have been some strong stuff,” she nudges me playfully. 

“The best sleep of my life, she had me feeling great for the first two days. Then reality hit.” 

“I don’t want to bother her, she’ll have to drive up here and it’s too much of a hassle.” … “I’ll survive. So… will you tell me what’s in those envelopes up there?” 

“Nope.” I honestly respond. 

“Nothing is stopping me from getting up and grabbing them.” 

“You don’t have the energy for that, if you did, you’d have done it already.” 

“Fair point,” Anastasia agrees, “I’m sorry about earlier and throwing a fit.” 

“You have every right to feel how you do and want answers, but it’s in your best interest not to know them, it’ll stress you out, I rather if you let me stress over it instead, okay?” 

“It’s hard. Harry. I feel like everything is crumbling around me. I can handle it, I don’t need to be protected.” 

“It is crumbling, I won’t lie, it is a shit show.” 

“Way to go in being comforting.” 

“I won’t lie to you about it, everything is crumbling around us but at the end of the day, you’re safe, your parents are safe and it’ll all be okay.” 

“You keep saying that… who are you trying to convince? You or myself?” 

“Both,” I respond in all honesty. “Love, I want us to have an open communication, I don’t want us to hide things.”  

“Well, that is a little far fetched considering your job, darling,” Anastasia points out. 

I can’t say she is wrong, she has a valid point, but she is missing what I am trying to say, “I do my best to communicate, I only hide things when I need too,” … “Not that it makes it any better, I just-, I want you to know I am doing my best with balancing both and I am not trying to hide things, I just have to sometimes…” 

“Shhh, I know, quit fretting, I get it, I do. It is frustrating, but I understand, I just had a moment earlier, Harry. No need to keep worrying over it.” 

I let out a breath of relief and hold her a little closer to me, grateful that we have the sort of relationship where we can talk things out, we might get mad, but we don’t give up, we come to terms with things, we consider each other’s feelings and we get through it. 

“Harry, we do need to talk about our marriage though.” 

“What about it?” 

“How it will affect you… Harry, I will be Queen within the next year, my father wanted to hand it over by the end of the year, December isn’t too far off, I don’t know whether he still will pass it down but if he does, your life changes unless we continue to keep it quiet.” 

“Well, since Henry isn’t married to you, I don’t think you will be becoming Queen. The whole point was for Henry to gain a higher title than what he already has. And, if you do become Queen, we will cross that bridge when we get there, I think we should hold off going public, but your family should at least know.” 

“You okay with just taking it day-by-day to see what happens with the crown?” 

I’m not sure why she has so many doubts when I have done my best to reassure her, I can only thank my sister for this one. Anastasia wasn’t this doubtful until meeting my sister. 

“Of course,” I nod my head, “But, do I get to wear a crown and a robe like they do in movies?” 

“What the fuck kind of movies do you watch? No, Harry. You don’t get to walk around with a crown and a cape. Do I walk around with a crown on?” Anastasia questions. 

“No… You never wear a tiara, why?” 

"Single ladies don't typically wear tiaras unless they are born into the Royal Family as a princess. Tiaras are not worn before 6 p.m.. They are worn on formal white tie events and state occasions such as state banquets. For the most part, I have skipped these events up until the last two years, which, my mother and father have not given me a tiara to wear… Once I am married or Queen, I will wear one or I can wear a crown.” Anastasia informs me on the etiquette of crowns and tiaras. I don’t know the difference between the two, and due to not wanting to sound like a moron, I don’t want to ask her what the difference is. 

“So… I don’t get a crown?” I curiously question. 

I don’t give a flying fuck on whether I am entitled to wear a crown or not. I’m not in this for the family jewels, the crowns, estates or anything. Quite frankly, none of that means a bloody thing to me, I’m in this for Anna. 

“You can wear a gold coronet.”

I gasp, “I don’t want a knockoff crown.” I respond, unsure of what a coronet is, but it sounds close enough to a crown. I can only assume it’s a step down from a crown. 

“Fine,” Anna chuckles, “I will bestow upon you a crown you can wear. I am sure there is one in the family, we have many jewels and crowns.” 

“Great, and can I also require a robe?” 

Anna laughs, “Don’t push your luck.”

“Can I have my own crown?” 

“For my coronation, the royal jeweller can make you your bloody crown.” 

“They should match, somehow… You know?” 

I wonder how long she’ll keep this conversation with me, I don’t mean any of it, like I’ve said, I don’t give a rats ass about the crown, I’m currently trying to keep her occupied in an attempt to make her feel better. 

“I love how you’re more interested in your crown than the fact you will have a lot of power.” 

“How will I have power?” 

I have enough power as it is, any more and it might get to my head. 

“Sweetheart, everyone will have to curtsey to you… Every member of the royal family will have to bow or curtsy to you…. But the future Queen thinks it’s time for bed, sitting on this cold floor isn’t going to cut it.” 

I stand to my feet and offer my hand to help her up, she presses her hand with my own and I gently pull her to her feet, “I do have another question though regarding the royal ways,” I begin. 

“Mhm,” Anna hums as we begin to walk out of the bathroom and into my bedroom. 

“If we were to have kids…. How do we raise them?” 

“Already anticipating children?” 

“No, you mentioned while I was carrying you out of the tunnel that we weren’t having kids, but if we do… do we have to raise them royally?” 

“Uhm….” Anastasia pauses to think for a moment, looking over at me, “We will decide how we raise our children, I will leave the monarch before I allow them to tell me what to do with our hypothetical children. If I’m Queen, I call the shots.” 

“Mhm…. And will they be raised in a royal way? Will they have a title?”

“Unless we choose otherwise…. I don’t know if I want kids to have to go through what I have as a royal. I wouldn’t strip them of their title but I don’t know… it’s something to think about after we are married, we’ve barely managed that yet.” … “Let’s just go to bed,” Anastasia smiles over at me and I nod my head with a smile. 

I’m more than happy to get in bed and fall between the sheets with her beside me, but I am distracted by my phone vibrating against the side table. I walk over to it and read the messages on my screen, “I’ll be back in a minute,” I inform Anna before I step out of the bedroom and walk down the hallway to the front door. 

I open the front door and stare at Matthew, “Look, Matthew, if you want me to leave again, I’m not, I haven’t slept much in the last 48 hours, Anna’s sick and I’m not going to—“ 

“Relax,” Matthew interrupts me, “I’m not on your doorstep for another job, I’m here to tell you I’m patrolling the house and watching so you can relax.” 

“Oh.” 

“But I’m glad you’re defensive and don’t want to leave your girlfriend while she’s sick, it’s kinda cute when you’re not the dick of a security guard.” 

“Knock it off, you’re making me sound soft.” 

“You are,” Matthew chuckles, “At least with her, it’s good, you’re getting softer and better at being her partner and not her security guard.” Matthew points out and I nod my head. It’s a transition sometimes to go from a security guard who can’t show much emotion to her boyfriend. 

“Are you done?” I laugh. 

Mathew nods, “Is she okay?” 

“She’s fine, with everything that has happened, her being a little under the weather is a better outcome than her emotionally spiralling, I think it’s the stress that has finally caught up with her.” 

“Does she need the doctor?” 

“No,” I shake my head, “I will put letters in the letterbox, I need you to take them, read them, and find out who’s sending them. They know I’m here and I don’t want to take any chances. They’re involving Anna now,” I inform Matthew of all the letters that I’ve received over the month, plus the ones Anastasia saw that were sent to my mother's house. 

I’ve done my best to keep the letters to myself and Matthew, not wanting to make something out of nothing. 

“Do you have any leads yet?” 

“No… I assume the Ace’s but Victoria is dead so that leaves who? Henry? His unknown father? Their mob? Matthew, the mafia aren’t people I want on my ass or the crooked government officials the king knows.”

“I’ll see what I can find out, just keep her safe and inside.” 

I nod my head, having no intentions of stepping outside with her unless it’s the back garden. “If you don’t mind, I’m going back inside where it’s warm.” 

“Try not to get too soft on me while I’m out here patrolling and keeping your ass safe.” 

“Ya, about time you watch my ass instead of me watching yours,” I respond before stepping back into the house. 

A Few Days Later.

I overhear the sound of the glass doors open as I stand on the back porch, gazing at the garden that is beginning to frail and change colours with the changing of seasons. I turn around and offer my mother a small smile as she closes the door behind her, but she doesn’t smile back at me. 

I cock my head to the side and watch as she fidgets with her hands, her teeth chewing on her bottom lip— she wants to say something, but she doesn’t know-how. 

“Just spit it out,” I distract her from her anxiousness. 

She shakes her head and sits down on the patio furniture, crossing her leg over her knee before tapping her fingers on the armrest, “I know I’m not allowed to ask but…” my mother trials off and I raise a brow, unsure of what question she’s about to ask. All I can gather is that it’s about my job. She’s aware I can’t discuss everything with her, but that doesn’t always mean she doesn’t attempt to ask. “I saw your shirt.” 

“What shirt?” 

“The one you wore the other night.” 

Oh, fuck. Here we go with that white fucking shirt. 

I nod my head, gesturing for her to continue. “It isn’t your blood, if it was then you’d have a wound.” 

“Who says I don’t?” I question, catching my mum off guard. 

My mother stares at me and narrows her eyes down onto me, she’s not thrilled and doesn’t want to participate in my sarcasm and half-assed answers. My mother stands to her feet, steps closer and takes it upon herself to lift my shirt, inspecting my body. 

I gently push her hand away, “If you don’t mind, it’s quite chilly,” I adjust my shirt to cover my torso. 

“Harry—“

“Mum,” I cut her off, “I already had it out with Anastasia over this, please don’t ask questions or read into this.” 

My mother shakes her head at me, “I can’t just not read into it… Surely there’s an explanation.” 

I nod my head, “There is, but I can’t give it to you.” 

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have blood-stained shirts in the laundry for me to wash.” 

“I love you, and I appreciate everything you do for me… But, in my defence, I didn’t ask you to wash my clothes or that shirt, I was meant to throw it away. But apparently, everyone wants to see it.” 

“I’m not a fan of this.” 

“Join the club, you and Anastasia can have weekly meetings about it,” I mutter before heavily sighing, “Look, maybe later I can discuss things with you, but right now I can’t. On other news, since the wedding people are setting up, I’d really appreciate it if you and Gemma could participate in this… Help Anastasia pick a dress and get an idea of what she wants.” 

My mother glares at me, “I know you planned this.” 

“What?” 

“You have a wedding designer here bringing in dresses and everything else to keep her mind off of whatever the hell you’ve been up to and whatever it is you’re planning to do.” 

“While you are helping her with a dress, I’ll simply be doing paperwork,” I inform my mother, covering the fact that she’s partially correct. I had planned to surprise Anna with a wedding dress designer for a while, it just happened that right now suites all scenarios, it’ll keep her occupied and away from social media and it’ll give me time to do ‘paperwork.’ 

Of course, my paperwork will include doing some investigating on the Ace’s and the mafia they’re involved with, along with figuring out the whole situation with Victoria in the tunnels, and if I have enough time, I will hopefully manage to figure out where the fuck we are going to go from here. Anastasia and I can’t stay with my mother forever, at some point we will have to move Anna back to Buckingham or one of the other palaces. With us getting married, I’d think it’s suitable that we have a proper conversation about where we plan to live, obviously she’s going to want to choose Buckingham or the palace in Ireland but I think we should have a nice place away from the royal family, perhaps a little cottage. We need a place that’s just for me and her that has no royal affiliation to it. 

“When exactly are you getting married and where?” 

“Where and whenever she picks.” 

“Aren’t you concerned they’ll tell the media?” 

“Confidentiality contract,” I respond, “I’m going to go check on Anastasia,” I dismiss the conversation, mainly because my mothers dagger eyes brutally murder me and I can’t stand it. 

I walk inside and make my way down the hallway catching Anastasia just as she’s stepping out of the bedroom, “Good morning,” I smile, kissing her cheek instantly before bringing her into a warm embrace. She mumbles a good morning into me and I chuckle. “How are you feeling? I just put the kettle on for tea.” 

“I feel a lot better, still a little nauseous but it’s bearable.” 

“You look better than the last few days, no offence... I have a surprise for you,” I inform her, watching as she looks at me with curiosity. 

“Mhm, what is it?” Anastasia hums. 

I intertwine her fingers with mine and lead her to the end of the hallway where the dress designer has been setting up. I open the door and step in the room, allowing Anastasia to see the countless wedding dresses on wracks lined against the wall, “Anastasia, this is Charlotte, a creative director of a luxury fashion house. She will assist you with dresses and if you can’t find one will help design one, if you wish. Charlotte, this is my soon to be wife, Anastasia,” I introduce the two ladies, stepping back as they greet each other. 

“I brought a few dresses for you to look at, try on and see what you like if none of them works we can literally go to the drawing board, whatever you envision is, is what I want to create,” Charlotte sweetly informs Anastasia, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t curtesy,” Charlotte stammers and I can’t help but chuckle to myself. 

It never gets old when people get bent out of shape over curtseying. “Please,” Anna quickly shakes her head, “There’s no need, I’m not a princess, I’m just someone who wants the perfect dress,” Anastasia informs Charlotte. 

“I’ll leave you two to it… Mum and Gemma will come in and help if you’re okay with that, thought you might want some company?” 

“That would be really nice, thank you for this,” Anastasia smiles towards me before stepping closer to me and kissing my lips. 

It’s the least I could do. All she wants is a sense of normalcy, she doesn’t want the big fancy royal wedding with spectators, she isn’t asking for more than having a dress and getting married. I’ll do everything I can to make sure she gets the wedding of her dreams, even if it’s a small ceremony in the back yard with the sheep. 

Anastasia pulls on my hand as I go to walk out and I stop on my tracks, she grows quiet for a moment before leaning up and whispering, “I don’t know if I can afford a designer dress, Harry, without dipping into the royal—“ 

I gently cut her off with a kiss, “Money isn’t a factor.” 

“But.” 

“It’s covered, no matter what you pick, it’s covered. Get the dress of your dreams, don't worry about money or whether the royals will pay for it, I have it covered.” 

“Harry—“ 

I shake my head, “Don’t worry,” I kiss her lips again before walking out of the room, well aware that she’ll stand there and argue with me all day if I’d let her. 

While Anastasia is occupied with the wedding with my mother and sister to soon be right behind her, I slip out of the house and make my way to the parked car on the street. I open the door and relax on the passenger side, “Bloody Hell, do you not know what heat is?” I challenge Matthew with a gasp, leaning forward and turning the heat on, “Seriously, I know you’re older but heat was invented many years ago,” I continue, pressing my hand to the vents. 

“Harry, it is not that cold.” 

“There’s frost on the grass, it is ten degrees this morning.” I point out the fact the grass is insignificantly wet and there is a slight mist of fog lingering from the overnight temperatures.

“Well, put on a jacket,” Mathew smirks, “Besides the point, you’re late, the King has already called.” 

“I had to occupy Anna… I am glad I missed the call, I don’t even want to know what he wants now.” 

I am starting to have this yearning of avoiding the King at all costs, but I obviously can’t, he pays my bills and I am in love with his daughter. I will never get away from him. 

“You don’t get to pick and choose when he is the boss.”

I sigh and look at Mathew, “Anna is being weird with me since I won’t tell her what happened, I can’t do more shady shit,” I inform Mathew, “At least let me marry her before causing problems, she is less likely to leave if we are married.”

Mathew laughs and shakes his head, “That sounds like a great relationship. Either tell her or lie.”

“I don’t want to do either. The king said he would kill us if we told anyone...”

The King was very specific with his instructions. 

“He can’t hurt a fly, he has us do his dirty work, Harry. Do what I do.”

“Lie?” I question, unsure of what he tells his wife when he suddenly has to leave or when he is never home. 

“Tell her you can't talk about things because what was discussed is confidential.” 

“That would be great but my future wife is the future Queen and she saw the blood on my shirt, that is the issue. She wants to know where the blood came from.” 

“Next time, get rid of evidence you moron,” Mathew shakes his head, “Look, tell her someone was hit by  a car and you saved them.” 

“Oh, yes, let me dig myself into more of a hole,” I huff, looking down at my phone and scrolling through my contacts, “The private detective I hired to keep an eye on Henry hasn’t found anything, Henry has been staying at a cottage an hour outside London. A small two-bedroom cottage and a vegetable patch.” 

“Where?” 

“ Singleton, but I don’t know why he has tried to go off the radar and hide… Took a while for the lead.” 

“And what are you going to do with this lead?” Mathew asks. 

“Well, nothing. I can’t do anything, if I do, it would be stupid, he would instantly link me to Victoria’s death, I have to stay quiet… Plus, he isn’t doing anything. Actually, do you think he had anything to do with Victoria’s death?” I curiously begin to question. 

There isn’t much of reasons for Henry to suddenly go into hiding, I didn’t threaten him besides when he tried to take Anna’s horse, he got away with his psychotic behaviour, in fact, I think the King gave back the horse without Anastasia knowing— not that she would care— I don’t think she will ever get on a horse again. 

Mathew stares at me for a moment and thinks, “Unlikely, it is his mother, what motive would he have? Ask the detective where he was that night, plus, nobody knows about Victoria yet, there haven’t even been reports of her missing, the media is quiet.” 

“A little too quiet,” I mutter, “Anyway, what did the King have to say?” 

“We are on media duty, we need to leak a story or two.” 

“What are we leaking?” I ask.

“This is the part you’re not going to like… He wants to use Anastasia as a decoy from everything. He wants the media and the people to believe that she has stepped away from the palace to focus more on her royal duties privately and to better grasp things.”

I roll my eyes, “Not the first time he uses her as a decoy. Why can’t the actual Queen be used? Why is it, Anna?” 

“Well, the Queen isn’t as popular, quite frankly, at this point, nobody gives a damn what the Queen does. Everyone is interested in Anastasia, you are aware she will be Queen soon? She is big news.” 

“Whatever,” I hum, “So we have to leak stories that aren’t true to suit the King’s narrative? Can you do it? I don’t want Anna hating me much more. I don’t want a divorce before I m even married.” I ask Matthew as he begins to drive up the road. 

“I can,” he nods, “But you have to take the next call from the King.” 

I agree and nod my head, taking the file on his dashboard and beginning to read through it to get an understanding of what the King wants and what exactly we need to do. 

#harry styles imagines #imagine harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurbs #harry styles prompts #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles fic #harry styles one shots #harry styles preferences #1d imagine #imagine 1d #imagine one direction #harry styles fanfics #fanfic one direction #one direction fanfiction #one direction fan fiction #one direction blurbs #harry styles blurb

[system-of-a-feather]

11 & 19 !!

“ Hey, if you are still looking for system asks, 19? “ from @yallshouldsleepmoremydudes1803 since you both asked for 19

11. Name something that you like/enjoy but that one (or more) of your alters doesn’t

*laughs maniacally* There are honestly a number of things one member of the system likes that the others don’t because a lot of us have a tendency to be kinda hyper particular in interests.

Pretty much most non-instrumental music with Lucille since - while respectful about it - he quite literally only listens to classical music with the exception to two songs - one of which is Erlkonig (which hardly counts) and another that is personal.

Also call me weird, but I really like working and doing a lot of things most would consider boring like.... Filling out my budget sheets or like... reading research papers or like.... I dunno doing homework and going to work. Its a bit of a meme that I have a skewed sense of fun towards “boring” and “hardworking” and “tiresome” and I know Aderis and Ray’s definition of fun tends to be more on the lazier / lax end of things.

Oh and I really like long hair. That is actually really a kind of common thing in our system, but Ray I swear would chop it all off if he had the chance.

And relevant to the last post, but Lucille hates the taste of soda where as Aderis and I drink too much of it. Those are just some off the top of my head.

I actually don’t know what everyone’s taste in food is now that I think about it so Im clueless there XD

19. Got any fun system stories to tell?

Hmmm... So lately we’ve been learning the violin, and to give context, Lucille is a huge classical music and just music nerd overall. I am a large fan of music of all forms and would consider myself a music nerd as well, but not to his level, plus I have the tendency to forget how to play if I have any uncertainty about my ability when playing in front of someone. As a result, it’s been a bit amusing going to our lessons to show what progress we’ve made and to get new lessons to work on and return with since the main two learning the violin are me and him.

Why is it interesting? Well for the first lesson and the first half of the second lesson I was the one there, and it was driving me insane cause I dissociate if I am not 100% confident in my playing ability and my playing ability - like a self fufilling prophecy - falls. Its distressing but I’ve played trumpet for 7 or 8 years so I kind of am used to it, and for that second lesson I wasn’t supposed to be out cause the plan was to have that be his responsibility cause I don’t like that discomfort. Anyways, I was out and the teacher was like making a lot of comments on issues and things I knew but was unable to display cause I was *dissociating and dying* and so he noticed our violin bow needed adjusting so he went off to fix it and in that time we managed to switch and it was absolutely HILARIOUS how clearly the playing ability changed XD

Cause the thing is Lucille is somehow like 2x better than me at the violin despite me being the one who practices the most - but he is also 2x better than me at the trumpet and the piano (which we started to pick up) - and he also does not suffer from “I am vulnerable to anxiety-dissociative spirals that remove my ability to perform” so when the teacher came back and Lucille was out, apparently he was like “WOW THATS MORE LIKE IT YOU REALLY SOUND GOOD. YOU GOT THIS DOWN” and spent the whole rest of the lesson being extremely shook on how we suddenly took all his notes and applied it

Then it gets better cause literally everytime I’m out its a normal lesson and its chill, but whenever Lucille is out the teacher has to at least once go “WOW DID YOU PRACTICE MORE BECAUSE YOUR IMPROVEMENT IS REMARKABLE” or something similar XD

Like it would bother me more I feel if I didn’t already go through an insecure panic in highschool over my mental health issues making it so that when people were watching I might randomly loose my ability to play so I learned then that it is just my mental health and if I try to panic too much about it, then it often gets worse so I’ve learned to accept that it isn’t a reflection of my skill and more of just my mind not being the nicest. Then there is also the fact that Lucille is literally better at any obvious skill than me and it is kind of his job as what we call “academic protector” so it is expected and normal for Lucille to make me look bad XD

But I’ve been laughing my ass off over how our violin instructor seems to unknowingly notice and call our our switches every time despite the fact that Lucille is - as a primary protector - very good at pretending to be me if he wants to. So I’ve just been joking around with my fiance that if he ever REALLY questions if it is me or Lucille doing a good job pretending to be me, all he has to do is hand us a violin XD

Thats one of the recent amusing DID stories. Oh also once I checked my phone to see someone searched up “British Cream” and was very confused why that was there and why someone was looking up British Cream.

And one of the things that is talked about around the system that I’ve heard is apparently when Ray came out of a multi-year dormancy (having not formally met pretty much anyone in the system), one of his first interactions in the inner world with Lucille was going into his library and pulling a chair from underneath him. Cause Ray can be extra like that I guess.

Speaking of Ray being extra, one time I went to bed with two braids (I do it since my hair is hell and will destroy me if I sleep with it unbraided) and woke up with one really really bad braid and half of my hair loose. I was very confused and left a note asking who the heck woke up to unbraid my hair, and then do it again with one bad braid for the system. 

Apparently the next night I pissed Ray off and to get back at me, after I had planned to sleep and braided my hair into two even braids, he undid them and made one small braid and one really large one just to annoy me because he knew I’d probably be the one to wake up and that it would irritate me.

But yeah those are probably the few off the top of my head that are kinda amusing to tell XD (I’ve also randomly found myself in a hot bath tub when I swore I was doing homework thanks to Aderis, but thats a rather common short story)

-Riku (Host)

#system asks #ask #asks #alter: riku #alter: aderis #alter: lucille #alter: ray #system stories

[cookinguptales]

Today, SCOTUS is hearing arguments about whether businesses should have to cover birth control for their employees in their health insurance plans and I just. It’s hard to read.

I was going to make up this big informational persuasive post about the situation. But I’m just. I’m just so sad and angry and tired. So I figured I’d make an emotional one instead.

Let me tell you about my hormonal birth control journey. 

(Rest under a cut for length and content. cw: mental illness, graphic discussion of medical issues, injuries, & menstruation, discussions of suicide & self-harm, discussion of opioids, alcohol, & recreational drug use.)

 I started taking hormonal birth control late in high school to help regulate “painful periods”. It wasn’t for actual birth control at that point and I hadn’t been diagnosed with any disease, not even POTS yet. I just had “painful periods”.

Things were okay for a little while, but when I got to college, things started to fall apart. The double whammy of undiagnosed mental illness and a barely-diagnosed chronic illness (POTS was relatively unknown at the time and my doctors gave me information which I now know is incorrect) really caused me to spiral during my first year of college. I didn’t know it yet, but I react very poorly to some forms of hormonal birth control. Put succinctly, they drive me batshit insane. On one pill, I literally did not leave my apartment for over a month. I became very literally agoraphobic. Bouncing off the walls, irritable, angry, high suicidal ideation. As bad as side effects can be.

But I didn’t know that yet. I just stopped taking BC as part of the whirlwind of medicines and doctors that my life became for about two years while I was on my (first) medical leave from college.

My ribs were coming out back then. I didn’t know that yet, either. I knew that when I was around 16, I started getting severe back pains. The first time it happened, I had to go to the ER because I couldn’t breathe and my teachers thought I was having a heart attack. I got a narcotic shot in my butt. It did nothing to dull the pain. That’s how much it hurt. But it went away on its own eventually and I over the years I started medicating reoccurrences with a lot of different things. Physical therapy. Muscle relaxers. (Medically prescribed) opiates that made me puke. Prescription strength Advil. Wine.

I didn’t see that it was all connected yet. Not yet. I didn’t realize, with my periods as irregular as they were, that the back pains were coming around the same time in my cycle each time.

My “painful periods” got worse. I talked to an OBGYN, with my mother in the room. I told her that I was scared of something like childbirth. I knew that my blood flow was dangerously bad. What if the fetus didn’t get enough blood? Oh, my doctor laughed, that wasn’t a problem. The fetus would always get enough blood. The risk was that I wouldn’t. That it, like the tiny vampire it was, would take it all until I simply died. If I got pregnant, I would likely die. I asked about permanent sterilization. My mother cried. My doctor said no. I didn’t ask again.

I went back on birth control.

It was odd. I didn’t want children before that visit, not really. I was so tired all the time. I knew I’d never be able to manage to raise a child — and honestly, I didn’t care to try. I was so depressed. I was so sick. It sounded like so much work. I still don’t want to have kids. But it still feels… weird, knowing that I can’t. And knowing that I could die if I get knocked up.

I’m bisexual, but I have zero sexual contact with men (because I don’t love them, despite being somewhat sexually attracted to them) and zero sexual contact with people with penises (because they could literally kill me and it would be no one’s fault). But I’ve been followed home by men before. I’ve had cabbies lock me in and ask me for a date. I’ve had men who won’t take no for an answer. And my god, it terrifies me that I might have to deal with both sexual assault and a slowly creeping murder all at once.

(It’s laughable to think he’d be tried for both.)

I ended up getting sick off birth control a few times. I went on and off it periodically during my college career. I now in retrospect see that a lot of my “meltdowns” were a combination of discrimination-based stress, physical breakdowns, and hormonal whirlwinds. At my worst times, I was on birth control. The wrong ones.

My periods, over time, got worse. My back would hurt. The cramps were unbelievable. I couldn’t feel my legs. I could feel them too much. I couldn’t keep food down. I’d be so angry, so sad, so everything.

I went to the doctor again. I was diagnosed with both endometriosis and PMDD. PMDD, or premenstrual dysphoria disorder, is like PMS on steroids. I remember telling my doctor, in halting tones, that I wasn’t well before my periods. That I always had depression, always had anxiety, but I wasn’t well before periods. At her prodding, I confessed that sometimes I would just lie there for hours, for days, in the fetal position. That I’d clutch at my own arms, mooring myself, because I knew that those white knuckles were the only thing between me and killing myself. That my brain, always somewhat malevolent, became an inescapable mantra of death. That I’d just lie there and sob because it took everything I had not to hurt myself. That I’d find claw marks, bruises, on my arms later, and all I could do was get some ice.

It was better than the alternative.

I told my doctor about how painful my periods had always been. How I’d heard a story once about, y’know, that Spartan boy? The one who hid a fox kit under his shirt during an examination and stayed perfectly silent even as it clawed at him so he wouldn’t be caught with it? How it tore at his stomach until he fell down dead, still silent? I told her how I felt like I was holding a fox kit every damn month and sometimes I couldn’t stand the pain of it. Sometimes I considered ending that pain, one way or another.

She put me back on birth control.

A little less than a year later, or in layman’s terms, about a year ago, my mental health was so bad again that I was almost committed. Literally committed. I had to go stay with my parents for a few months while I transitioned to new medications because it wasn’t safe for me to be alone. I learned that the birth control I was on could create those symptoms — but they didn’t start until months after you’d started taking it. So you didn’t realize it was the medicine. You just assumed you were crazy and unlikable and so, so angry. At the world, at your loved ones, but mostly at yourself.

I learned, around that time, that I also had Ehlers-Danlos syndrome. That the pain I felt every month right before my period wasn’t just cramps. It was my bones coming undone from their sockets. It was my hips dislocating. It was my ribs popping out of my spine. I realized that that lump my parents could feel in my back wasn’t a hard knot of tense muscles. It was my fucking rib poking out of my back. I learned that there is a period right before menstruation that mimics a period during pregnancy where your joints loosen — your body thinks it is preparing you for birth, for loosening your pelvic cavity so an entire head can pass through. For someone with Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, that period of joint looseness was enough to wreak absolute havoc on a system of already-weakened joints.

I learned how to put my own ribs back in with a foam roller. I started drinking marijuana tea for the pain. I went on a different birth control. I stopped taking the placebo pills. I had to fully eradicate that entire portion of my cycle. Goodbye PMDD and ribs constantly popping out. I don’t miss you!

I am still on that pill, y’know. Every day I take it and wonder if I’m one step closer to the day when it inevitably destroys me. The last one took about a year. Tick tock.

Or maybe I finally found the one that works… I really just don’t know.

The fact of the matter is that I have a full handful of maladies that require birth control so I can function. PMDD, endometriosis, dangerous pregnancy, EDS. I need hormonal birth control. I would probably be dead by now without it. The PMDD especially was that bad. My internal organs are likely a scarred-up mess. But the birth control itself almost killed me, too. God, it was close.

Simply put, birth control is heaven and hell all wrapped up in a pill. It treats illnesses and it prevents pregnancy. In other words, it provides you with both freedom and peace of mind. It is absolutely essential. But it’s also monstrous. The sheer number of sometimes-deadly side effects that come with hormonal treatments is staggering. Which is why you need to be under a doctor’s careful eye when you’re on it. You need to be free to choose whichever brand you need. You need to be free to switch kinds at a moment’s notice. None of these things are possible in a system where these pills are not fully covered by insurance.

(And yes, I know, this is a stupidly American problem in so many ways. Obviously the ideal thing here would be single-payer for all medical procedures. But that’s not up for debate here and insurance for BC is. Because for some reason we let some people’s religious convictions determine others’ health care. But I digress.)

Please don’t worry too much for me. I have a good employer who has told me in no uncertain terms that I don’t need to worry about my healthcare coverage. But there are so many people just like me. Who may not have diagnoses yet. Who may have “problem bodies”. Who only know that they need to do something and that they might have to go through several pills to find it. Whose employers either have the strong religious belief that hormonal birth control is a sin or the strong religious belief that they want to pay as little as possible for their workers’ health care. (Call me cynical.)

Those are the people I worry about. Those are the people I feel absolutely sick over as I watch the SCOTUS argue whether we should be allowed to have life-saving medicine. The people who I know will fall through the cracks the second that the cracks are widened enough for them to do so. The people who will die.

It’s a tense time right now. It’s a tense time for very obvious reasons. But this morning I find myself to be even tenser, and my stomach hurts thinking about it. It feels like all I can do is stare at a pill packet and remember every horrible reason I need it and every horrible thing it’s done to me and I just.

It’s a lot.

#long post #just me #handsoffmybc #birth control #feelin some kind of way this morning #please mind the cws #PMDD is one of those illnesses that I wish was more discussed #I feel like one day I'll make an entire post about how dangerous PMDD is #and how our cultural dismissal of PMS is dangerous #and unfair for that matter

[whetstonefires]

I’ve decided I can’t healthily reblog that one Jason post again, for everyone’s sanity, but op’s most recent reblog was both highly illuminating and infuriating--and I mean that on two different levels; there was some really good explication of perspective and how we’re missing each other in the dark, but there was also more of the stuff that drives me out of my skull.

So, I’m going to make my own post, which can be engaged with at will, rather than coming right to op’s house.

-

So, as I’ve mentioned, my biggest issue with a lot of a specific subtype of Jason arguments is they devolve really quickly into the insistence that he is owed anything by anyone in his family besides Bruce.

He’s not. That is just so, so incredibly important to me.

I want to talk about why, but I’m not going to because it’s way too in-depth and personally triggering a subject for me to fit a full breakdown here or to risk having it brushed off, so I’m leaving it as a strong assertion of personal opinion. Maybe I’ll come back to it at some point.

More germane to the inciting reblog...I also don’t think they, the batfam (specifically the batboys because DC never let the girls in on the game despite how much they should have, probably because no matter whether they got beat up or successfully deescalated, they’d ruin the dramafest by tipping Jason’s arc out of its toxic loop) could have helped him by approaching him in a ‘better’ way.

Partly because they did try--people will dismiss that as not counting because it ‘seemed manipulative’ but like. That’s not only textbook abuser excuse language to tell someone that doing exactly what they wanted still deserved punishment, there is literally no way people with no existing positive relationship could approach someone whose incredibly toxic behavior they are morally obligated to prioritize changing without coming across as having an agenda? How were they meant to possibly avoid that?

Especially when he had already approached them with violence and not signaled any intent to stop, so it would be insane to have their guard totally down?

(Like. Even Bruce being given actually good writing would have been pretty cornered into either physically containing or emotionally attempting to persuade him into doing a different thing, and that’s Bruce.)

But mostly they couldn’t have gotten different results with a different approach because they were his triggers. Their presence made everything worse. It provoked episodes. There was nothing they could have done differently to get a better response, because one of the most reliable triggers for his mental health issues and violent coping mechanisms is the batfam.

Is Batman and Robin. (Or was, in the relevant window. He’s mostly going by a different playbook since Flashpoint.)

Precisely by being his family, they were rendered incapable of giving him what the Outlaws eventually did, if you treat preboot and nu52 as being in the same continuity, no matter what they did or said.

Which all the more means that every assertion that the family (minus Bruce, because of some shitty drama-seeking bullshit that I hate but it’s canon so people who like it have the right to use it as they wish) treated him badly, and should have treated him better and then things would have been better...

Always sounds to me like an exercise in victim blaming.

Rich with what would be gaslighting, if it was said to rather than about them.

Which in turn triggers the fuck out of me, though luckily unlike Jason I just get passive-aggressive on the internet by accident, rather than stabbing people in the chest for saying no to me and waiting for their heartbeats to stop, and then grinning real big.

-

And that moment of drama I just called back to ties into another really important reason that, in spite of how much I love him, pro-Jason arguments in this mode just fuck me up, one that doesn’t connect to my personal hangups.

Which is how this approach tends to argue for Jason being entitled to the utmost gentleness and care and respect for his needs, and opportunities to change without being coerced or contained or shamed or accused, and...

But will turn around and in the same breath brush away him murdering criminals as a well-intentioned action to improve the world, out of concern for the harm they might do him or others, even if it maybe isn’t necessarily right.

Will treat his crimes as details that have no real bearing on how people ‘should’ react to him. ‘Should’ being defined wholly in terms of his experience of the world.

Dude not only takes hostage and violently assaults Robin and shoots a ten-year-old near the heart, he slaughters low-level drug dealers and mob enforcers, people who are just small cogs in a machine whose evil only very arguably exceeds that of extraction capitalism, who in the former case may not have committed any violent crimes themselves ever in their lives.

People who have families and dreams and mental health conditions and traumas of their own.

He murdered everyone eating in Blackgate cafeteria and Blackgate isn’t some special, murderers-only facility with no, like, weed possession felons, for example. Even if it was, some of the other convicted murderers probably had worse childhoods and less control of their trauma-driven violent episodes than Jason.

Some of those people he kills might have lived in the same alleys as him at the same time, and the break they got to get out of there was a job in organized crime, rather than an adoption offer from a millionaire, and later a training subsidy from an assassin princess.

And somehow we are meant to be comfortable accepting that they deserve death. All of them. Somehow intervening non-lethally to prevent him from killing more of them is framed as a moral cruelty roughly equal to his personal, targeted assaults on children. His right to not be forcibly remanded to mental health treatment outweighs their right to live.

Because. They’re just. Scum.

And this, to me, represents a willingness to disregard the human rights of some people, while at the same time elevating the individual rights of some other person above every other moral good.

And that, on principle, upsets the hell out of me.

Where is their pity, their extenuating circumstances? Their acknowledgment that violence and rejection is not the answer to someone’s trauma-driven coping strategies?

How can ‘criminals’ be grounds enough to sacrifice people’s right to exist, while Jason--a serial killer and mass murderer both by any measure--deserves not only life and liberty but every good and kind thing? How can both these ideas exist together in the same space?

I can’t do it. I can’t make any sense out of it at all. For Jason to be more sinned against than sinning in relation to his family--to have had the right to be met with endless gentleness and patience rather than ever violently opposed or rejected, even leaving aside his personal treatment of them--the lives of those who commit violent, criminal acts must be disposable things. Easily traded away.

But then by that same cruel metric he, too, becomes a disposable person.

And I do not believe in throwing people away.

#i recognize this approach to the character as having a cathartic purpose #but when it claims the moral high ground i tend to snap #bruce's behavior has been unspeakably shitty #but if you reimagine Jason's unspeakably heinous acts as valid without giving Bruce the same treatment #then you've created a jason-victimization-based alternate universe #which is a valid thing to do in fic #but it's not...fair #and it's not something you can demand other fans acknowledge as the true canon #and equally you can give Jason all of the rights and everyone else in existence none of them #it's your fic #you can do whatever you want #but it hurts me #and i will not be scolded for a lack of sympathy for human suffering #when it's this type of jason narrative's casual dismissal of everyone's feelings BUT his #that sticks in my craw #jason todd #i throw maybe some salt #batfam #at its least functional #hoc est meum #human rights #either he's wrong or he's forfeited his right to live #i prefer to think he's wrong #honestly the cognitive dissonance is so strong #sometimes jason's killing strikes me as a symbolic act of self-destruction #though not so much lately #when lobdell is writing him he barely feels like a person #he's just a doll saying words that very occasionally connect to something he's supposed to have feelings about #the genre conventions allowing criminals to function as props break down irreparably #when you're simultaneously escalating the violence against them

[lickstynine]

blog-unrelated personal rant under the cut

so I just found out that my sister like... hates me? not like thinks I’m annoying, like hates me.

I was looking on my mom’s Google Drive, trying to find a decent photo of myself cause I didn’t have any on my own phone, and while I was sifting through her files I found a doc my sister had shared with her.

and the whole thing was like a literally three or four page rant about all the reasons she can’t stand me as a person and doesn’t like having me around. and some of them are valid flaws that I’m fully aware I have and can understand why people would hate and that I know I should work on. (including but not limited to being lazy and having bad time management)

she thinks I’m insanely rude and a raging asshole in general, and like, I do use insult humour a lot, but it’s usually a back-and-forth thing. like, I like to trade barbs, absolutely, but not because I’m trying to be mean. I can take what I can dish out, and I try to be nicer with her anyway because she’s fussier than my mom, who I can just banter with shamelessly. and I am cynical/pessimistic, but it’s just in the casually nihilistic way that late millennials to gen Zs tend to talk.

also she brought up something I said a while back about no longer really associating with the person I was in high school (which is true, I struggle to even remember half of high school because of how distant and foreign it seems now) and how I hated how I acted when I was younger but I think I’ve improved. and to quote her words as best I can remember them “he’s improved, but it’s like a $15.99 t-shirt going on sale for $15.98.” which, great insult actually, pretty hilarious, but I feel like I’ve changed a lot in the last four years, being more responsible and open and friendly to the family and generally less bitter, but apparently not?

she resents me for getting what she feels to be preferential treatment from our parents. which is valid in some ways. they do try to accommodate me a lot. and as the older kid, I did get a lot of things first (though as any older sibling knows, I also opened a LOT of doors for her in the process). but here’s the problem: THEY ACCOMMODATE MY PROBLEMS BECAUSE I ASK THEM TO. SHE DOESN’T DO THAT. she refuses to actually try to bring her issues up with the parents, stuff like queerness and mental health, even though I’ve told her that 1. they supported me in those areas, they’ll support you, too, and 2. I’ll fucking back you up if they try to be unsupportive. but no, she’d rather not ask for support but resent me for being supported.

she also hates me for moving back home (I didn’t ever fully move out, I was just away for college until this semester) because even before the quarantine, she no longer had much time alone and generally hates having me around. and like, I totally get the wanting to be alone thing, but like... hang out in your room? I’m useful to our parents and they fully endorse the idea of me living with them for a while to save up money. you wanting to be a hermit doesn’t make me an asshole.

and then there’s some real petty bullshit too. like, she hates that I’ve gotten into musicals because she doesn’t want me to like the same things as her. one because that’s “her thing” (which, fuck right off, it’s a whole genre of entertainment that I have every right to enjoy), and two because having a shared interest gives me more reason to talk to her and, as I said, she hates me.

I’m just dumping this all here because she’s on my “close friends” list on instagram so this is literally my only safe place to rant without her knowing something’s up. I can’t just bring it up to her because I basically intruded on a private conversation by reading the doc (which wasn’t intentional, based on the thumbnail, I actually thought it was a different file that had simply had its name changed), but how the fuck am I supposed to behave now that I know all this?

I seriously don’t know what to do. like, I’m not a lovey-dovey type by any stretch of the imagination, but I do show affection in my own ways. I share food I make, or bring her something if I get food while I’m out. if I see something when I’m out shopping that I think she’d like, I buy it for her, with no expectation of anything in return. I know that sounds materialistic, but because I’m not physically or verbally affectionate, I try to show it by being like “here I brought you a thing I know you will enjoy”. and I don’t know if that’s not coming across to her or if she just doesn’t care.

another way I try to be friendly/affectionate is bringing Turtle (my rabbit) to say hi whenever I have him out. I also like to let her bring him treats, because he always gets very excited and she seems to like it, too. and I don’t know if I should keep doing that??? like, I’m sure she genuinely likes him, everyone does, but I’m wondering if she actually hates dealing with him because he comes with me.

I’m also a little baffled cause she can be snippy/frosty with me sometimes, but in general, we have frequent, friendly conversation. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hurt by the idea that she actually spends all of the time we talk desperately waiting for me to go away already. I can’t just stop talking to her entirely, either, that’d be weird and obvious. but I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do or say now.

also we exchange memes regularly. like, her sending them to me as much as I send them to her. so I don’t know how to feel about that? ugh

I can’t even say I wish I didn’t know because the longer I went not knowing the worse finding out would be. but I wish I knew what to do or how to react.

if you read all the way through this, bless you. I just needed somewhere to vent, so don’t feel like you need to send sympathy or anything.

#j rambles #j rants #personal drama

[mentallyillmedia]

Mental Health Depicted Onscreen and in Literature

Here are some examples of mental health portrayed in films and books. I also tell you whether I recommend them or not. Enjoy!

Spoiler Alert. TW: DID, Rape, PTSD, Depression, Eating Disorders, Suicidal Behavior, Schizophrenia, Drug Abuse/Addiction

Psycho: This one is rather famous, I know. I haven’t seen it, actually, but I can tell you what it’s about because who doesn’t know what Psycho is about. Norman Bates runs a motel that a young woman goes to. She is killed in the shower by Norman, who is dressed as his mother. When taken to court after an investigation, a psychiatrist suggests Norman has a second personality after killing his mother and her lover out of jealousy. This second personality is “Mother,” who killed two other girls before Marion (The girl killed in the shower) and a private investigator. 

This is a film portrayal of DID, or Dissociative Personality Disorder. This is quite possibly the only way this disorder has ever been portrayed on screen; violent killers and criminals. It’s a harmful depiction but the film is highly highly recommended. If you can look past the psychological inaccuracies and enjoy psychological horror and somehow haven’t seen this film, check it out. 

My Sweet Audrina: I highly recommend this novel if you can handle the topic of rape, abuse, dissociation, and ptsd. This is a book by V.C. Andrews, one of her few standalone books, actually. This is a story about Audrina, a young girl who speaks of her dead sister called First Audrina through the book. First Audrina dies in the woods after she is raped and beaten to death. Audrina’s father wants her to have First Audrina’s specialness and puts her in First Audrina’s room often, sits her in the rocking chair and instructs her to follow his orders. She gains memories from First Audrina that frighten her and is never allowed to leave her house. 

Throughout the story, Audrina states that she isn’t sure what day it is or how long anything has ever lasted. She feels like her birthdays are scattered and her memory is spotty. If you’ve ever dealt with trauma, then you may already have an idea of what Audrina is experiencing. It’s a real good psychological book with heavy themes. 

Schizo: My favorite author, Nic Sheff, was introduced to me with this book. With Schizophrenia being my favorite mental illness to research, it was no surprise when I picked this one up at my library. The story follows Miles, a schizophrenic teenager, in the search for his kidnapped brother. Now, this is all from Miles’ point of view, so (if you visualize books like I do) we are seeing his hallucinations and living his delusions with him. Because of this, we are forced to be blinded to what is reality and what is fiction in Miles’ world. 

Is it accurate? I would hope so. It sure followed everything I’d read about when it came to the illness. Miles isn’t portrayed as violent or criminally insane, which is also important when you see so many mental issues having this portrayal. Nic Sheff has also suffered with his own fair share of mental health issues and has stated on the back cover of the book that he wanted to stay as accurate as he could. Or maybe that’s what I’m remembering. Highly highly recommend this novel.

Riverdale: Riverdale touches on a lot of mental health topics, whether we know it or not. Is it accurate? Not entirely. However, the portion I’ll be discussing, was taken rather seriously and was accurately represented (while still dramatized because it’s a TV show for teenagers). Cheryl Blossom attempts suicide in the first season because she is so depressed and overwhelmed by information about her brother’s death. She is seen giving her spider broach, something very important to her and is practically always on her in the first season, to Jughead as an apology for her reaction to the accusation that his father killed her brother. She texts Veronica saying she is “going to be with Jason now,” and goes to Sweetwater River in the outfit she last saw Jason in. There is a moment when Veronica calls her out on that icy riverbank that she seems to turn around and want to go back, however, the ice breaks under her feet. When the ice breaks, she falls under, but The Core Four pull her from the water and save her from drowning. 

Does Cheryl get therapy and proper medical attention after she attempts to take her own life? No. Does her mental health get worse? You bet. Overall, if you like teen dramas, check this show out. If you liked Riverdale but left the fandom cause the show went downhill, more power to you. 

Split: Yet another portrayal of DID. Its a movie I haven’t seen all the way through so I genuinely cannot recommend this to you if I have no idea if it’s good or not. A man kidnaps a few girls and his different personalities come out to torture and/or help them. Some personalities are violent, I believe, and some are kind or shy. 

In the sense of some or one personality being violent, I can believe that, but people had an issue with the discussion of such a controversial illness that is largely caused by trauma. I can’t really say whether or not it’s accurate since I haven’t finished it and only got to the part where the main girl with the huge eyes wakes up in her captor’s place. 

Literally any Lifetime eating disorder movie: There was a time where I was obsessed with eating disorder movies and could only ever find them from Lifetime. My favorite would have to be the one about thinspiration online, which I can’t remember the name of. Still, these girls in the movies are usually always teenagers, usually pretty athletes, and they are shown to be doing so well in life. Usually they are shown to be happy and outgoing girls. However, with a stresser coming into their life, they find themselves driving to be perfect for their competition or recital or to impress girls in their school. There is one Lifetime eating disorder movie I can think of where the girl is in eighth grade or something, and she’s showing obvious signs of depression. Her friends show her bulimia and she is transformed. One film shows the girl almost dying because of her diet to stay in the Olympics. 

Are they entertaining? Yes. Are they accurate? In a way, from what I remember, they are accurate for a certain type of ED patient. It’s accurate to the patients who have lived the life of perfection and happiness, only to suddenly fall down a rabbit hole. It’s a little over-dramatic for the sake of keeping audiences interested, but it can be accurate. I do recommend them if that seems like a fun type of movie to watch, however. Just search “Lifetime Eating Disorder movies” on youtube and you’ll find plenty.

Shameless: Addiction is the highlight topic in a lot of Shameless’s episodes. Frank is the comedy relief character with a love for booze. Monica is a Bipolar drug addict who abandons her kids. Lip gets hooked to alcohol. Fiona is addicted to chaos and, eventually, liquor as well. Pretty much everyone in that show smokes. It’s a show with ups and downs, showing as real of a poverty stricken life as Hollywood can muster, and putting real themes into a family full of personality and determination to get away from their parents’ messed up personalities. 

As for accuracy, it is probably the most accurate Hollywood will ever get to showing us mental illness and addiction while trying to stay comedic. Highly recommend. 

#mental health #mental disorder #may be triggering #eating disoder things #depression #nic shef #shameless #riverdale #horror movies #psychology

[evien-stark]

✧I Need You✧ Chapter 22 [24%]

Four days. It had only been four days since the senate hearing. But with the way things were in disarray, it felt like it had been four years. You were drowning, and falling beneath the waves every other moment. If you walked out of your office for even ten minutes, the papers on top of it seemed to multiply.

Tony wasn’t helping matters. Despite things seeming to look up, stocks were booming after his little show on Capitol Hill, he really had no idea what was going on. He seemed manic these days, buzzing around the mansion talking to himself and JARVIS about a million upgrades and other things you had just started to tune out. He was barely in the office- which wasn’t unusual, but right now Stark Industries needed him. Badly. And he seemed more than ever to be completely disinterested in it.

Though you’d both gone to work together this morning, as he’d been literally forced to attend a shareholder’s meeting, something you knew he had no will to sit through, he was nowhere to be found by the afternoon. Gone home, they said.

Your headaches had been getting worse. You felt like you were on the verge of collapse.

Head on your desk, there was a knock at the door, and you couldn’t even bother to hide your shame as someone you’d never seen before entered. Dressed smartly with her red hair slicked back in a ponytail, all doe eyes and nervous smile. You’d expected one of the top floor assistants, someone who knew what you were going through. But for this unknown woman, you forced yourself to sit up, hand to your head. “Yes?”

“Sorry to bother you.” She seemed kind but matter of fact.

“It’s fine. What can I do for you?” If she’d been let up here, that meant she was someone important or someone who belonged there regardless. There in your office as a brand new ache bloomed in your temples.

She leaned in and reached out to offer her hand for a shake, the ends of her curly hair spilling over her shoulder. “My name is Natalie Rushman. I was just hired- Mrs. Arbogast is putting me to work first day on the job it seems.”

“Throwing you in head first. Stark Industries tradition.” Hiring was not something you generally concerned yourself with. “What department are you working for?”

“Legal.” This spelled a whole lot of trouble. You didn’t want to give the impression you had no idea what was going on but you assumed she must have thought that anyway, by the way she was smiling. “I just have some papers for you to sign.”

“In regards to…?” Looking down as she slipped a folder on top of your desk. When you opened it your eyes glazed over the contents almost immediately. Only trying to pick out a few key details. “Art gallery?”

“Mr. Stark has generously donated the wing of his modern art collection. And while usually his signature would be enough, you have a co-ownership, so we need yours as well.”

Of course. Pepper. You’d assumed not only all her duties but all her things. She’d loved that art almost more than life itself sometimes. You remembered more than one gallery that she’d been excited to attend just so she could collect another piece. It really had nothing to do with you. You really didn’t care. But…

“Donated to-...”

Just the absurdity of it all struck another lash of pain. It felt like your brain was being squeezed. Nobody was going to know why Tony had done this, so suddenly at that, except him. There was no use getting angry at this Natalie, and no use asking her why either. You sighed. “Fine. Here.” Scrawling a quick signature across it.

“Thank you.” She picked the folder back up, holding it to her chest. Half turning it seemed like she was going to leave so she could deposit that to her superior. Job well done. But before saying goodbye, “If you don’t mind me asking, are you okay?”

You really just felt like you might throw up.

“I’m fine. Thank you.”

This was a problem.

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

 Happy asked you the same thing several times on the drive to the manor, only asserting the truth of the matter. You were a mess, and everyone could see it. It would probably be a good idea to take a day or two for mental health- maybe even physical. Something was clearly wrong. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had this many headaches- some touching into migraines- clustered together.

But there was no taking a day off. No breaks. Not with the way things were.

You walked down to the lab, brand new folder in arm full of brand new things for Tony to sign off on. It would have made your life so much easier if he’d just stayed at the office, like you’d asked him to, to help you. But no. Why would he do that?

He looked up from his computer. The bright light of holographic clutter across the entire room only hurt your eyes all the more. “Do you not care at all?”

“What?” Asked flatly as he lifted a glass of that green juice up to drain its contents.

“What are you doing, Tony? What’s the matter with you?” Really the root of the situation you found yourself in. If not all of them.

He snapped the lab into literal attention, the second half of the room brightening all the more. “What’s the matter with me is I’m busy. And you’re angry.” Getting up from his desk he began to walk- away from you, you presumed, so you were quick to follow at his heel.

“I’m trying not to be but you’re making it hard.” Getting into yet another argument about the exact same thing you’d been trying to fight with him for months over was not going to help. Something had smacked loose in his brain, you were sure. You just had to screw it back in. “Why are you going around donating art collections to The Boy Scouts of America?” The entire thing was preposterous.

“They’re a worthwhile organization.” Reaching forward he took one of his holographic schematics and crumpled it up, turning around to shoot it like a basketball overhead. All of this was nonsense. You felt like you were walking around in a dream.

“You couldn’t even tell me you were doing that?” Still trailing a few paces behind him. You felt weak.

He brushed random bits and pieces out of the air. This is what he’d been working on all this time? Brand new ways to fill the lab with junk? “It’s my collection- and I needed that as a tax write off.”

“And you were going to tell me this when?” Doubling down. He seemed to have so easily forgotten. His behavior had grown more and more erratic.

Walking around the corner, he patted DUM-E on the back. “Stop spacing out, the bridgeport’s already machining that part.”

Taking him by the arm suddenly, you pulled him to a halt. “I know you don’t wanna have the conversation again about how you’re upsetting me, Tony. But you are. I need you to do work.”

“I’ve been doing work.” Serious about this, yet still with a smile.

“You’re not doing anything that helps me- that helps the company. I have contracts I need you to sign and- the Expo has more participants flooding in- it’s like you’re completely ignoring all of it-”

Turning away he kept walking and you let him go, but followed close. “There’s nothing more important to me than the Expo. It’s my primary point of concern.”

“Really? Because it doesn’t feel like it. It feels like you just pushed me into working myself to the bone to get all of it done and now that you had your little opening ceremony, you don’t care about the rest of it.”

“Wow, look at this.” Ignoring you again to bend down and pick up a portrait of Iron Man. “Now this is art. This is going up.”

He must have been absolutely out of his mind. You stayed there, letting him walk away again, shocked to your core. It was like you weren’t even there. You watched as he shoved a bunch of mugs off the mini-kitchen corner and scrambled up on top to throw the painting hung on the wall there aside and hang the other up.

Finally you found your feet, walking over slowly. Something was not right here. Was it you? Did you get hit in the head? “Tony...”

Jumping down from the counter he regarded you, “Are you gonna start talking about work again?”

The dam broke. “Yes! Yes I’m going to start talking about work again! I need you to work, Tony! I need you to help me!” It wasn’t where you wanted to be, screaming at him, but you felt like you were delving into some sort of insanity. “You’ve put so many people on payroll and then abandoned them, waiting for me to clean up your mess. We’ve got the Wind Farm contracts on hold now and the Plastic Plantation-”

“I don’t- I’ve stopped caring about that- it’s boring. I’m telling you, I can’t deal with that stuff anymore. It’s boring me.”

It was like he’d reached out and smacked you in the face. “Excuse me?” Completely stunned. “It’s your company!” Tony had never been the best at being a company man, and it had only gotten worse since everything had happened. But you’d never expected him to just say that.

“No- no I’ve got a better idea. You do it.” Pointing lightly at you.

Your nose scrunched, brows knitting. “I’m at my limit, Tony. If you won’t help me run things-”

“No, you run things-”

“I have been! But I can’t do it without your help!”

“You don’t need my help! Will you listen to me? I’m trying to-”

“I’ve had enough!” Your anger was boiling over. Something drastic must have happened between last week and now. He was acting like a completely different person. Like he forgot who you were. Who you were supposed to be to him.

“Me, too! Listen- listen-” Still half talking over you, but hushed you to silence when he reached out to put his hands on your arms. “I’m trying to give you the company. Why won’t you let me?”

The words that had been locked and loaded died and you were relegated to a wide eyed lost stare at him. “...what?”

 Panic.

 Leaning in just a little bit more, you saw something strange in his eyes. “I hereby, irrevocably, appoint you chairman and CEO of Stark Industries. Effective immediately.” He breathed in, lips pressed together, looking away with a nod, rubbing his hands over your arms lightly. “Yeah. Done deal.” And then he stepped away.

It took you a long moment to break from your shock, but when you did you saw DUM-E rolling out with a plate in its arm, two long stemmed glasses there, chilled bucket on top, bottle of champagne waiting inside. No no no… this was all wrong.

“I’ve actually given this a fair amount of thought… believe it or not...” His voice went soft as he lifted the bottle up. “Trying to figure out who a worthy successor would be...” He worked the cage off the bottle and then popped the cork. “And then I realized...” He turned as the champagne came out in a gentle spray. His smile hurt the most. “It’s you. It’s always been you.”

He started filling the glasses as your knees went out, sending you to a quick sit on the couch luckily just nearby. You were still too stunned to speak. He came back over. “I thought there would be a legal issue but it turns out I’m uh… capable of appointing my successor.” Handing you the glass. “My successor being you.” You sat there still and he waggled the glass at you. “Congratulations?”

Out of pure muscle memory you took the glass from him. “Tony I don’t...”

“Don’t anything. Just drink.” Clinking his glass against yours even though you weren’t exactly meeting him in return.

“I don’t want this.”

His lips twitched before he took a gulp of champagne. “Yes you do.” And when you tried to speak again he reached out to put a hand on your leg. “Yes you do. You’ve done more work and more good for this company in your six years of being here than I ever have just inheriting it. And now you won’t need me. I won’t be holding you up anymore.” Your eyes came up, staring at him in soft disbelief. “I’ll uh… I’ll do this thing and you do your thing.”

Fear took hold of you. Your own? Why was he doing this? Really all for your benefit? “First you push the Expo up by six months- then you put on a show at the Senate- now you’re giving away all your art- and… and trying to give me your company?”

A klaxon warning went off, almost quite literally, blinding you for a moment as you lifted your hand to your head. Tony finally seemed the appropriate amount of spooked. “Hey- are you alright? I didn’t wanna say anything- you look kinda pale. Maybe you should lie down.”

Willing yourself to just be able to get through this, you took a breath. You were glad that he waited patiently for you to speak again, but saw the dismay as you said, “I refuse.”

“You uh… what?” Brows lifted quickly. “Refuse to take a nap?”

“I refuse your offer. I’d like to stay right where I am.” You weren’t going to let him talk you into becoming the head of Stark Industries. You really weren’t sure if that’s what you wanted, if that’s what you’d planned for yourself. And even if it was somehow in your wildest dreams, it didn’t matter. It couldn’t happen like this.

“You… can’t do that.” Sitting back with a look of disbelief.

“Really, Tony? What are you going to do, force me to run the company?” Like it would have made any difference.

“You’re already running the company. I’m just getting in the way. I wanna focus elsewhere. This is good for you and me.”

“You don’t get to tell me what’s good for me.” It came out a little harsher than you meant it. But your nerves were completely shot now.

He was frowning as he shifted yet again to sit forward and put a hand on your knee. “Is everything okay?”

“I should be asking you that. What are you doing, Tony? You’re acting crazy. It’s starting to scare me.” He had become absolutely manic. Running at something- you had no idea what. He’d shut you out from it, and you hadn’t known that until just now. How much longer would you have been in the dark if he hadn’t done one more crazy spontaneous thing? You couldn’t solely run the company and keep an eye on him. It couldn’t be done.

“I...” The word escaped on a breath and he seemed to wilt. You damned yourself for finding hope that he’d tell you the truth. “I was just trying to help the both of us.” Because that wasn’t it. You knew it for sure.

Setting your glass down, you reached to take his hand in both of yours. “It’s not all or nothing. You can’t tell me you’re going stop going out and focus on the company one month and then decide that’s not working for you the next.” He was drifting. Becoming more and more just Iron Man. No Tony Stark. You worried. “I’ll co-CEO with you, for a while.”

Because no matter how much you wanted to resist, he was right. If you didn’t need to come back and forth to ask for his permission or get his insight into what things he wanted done next, yes. A lot more would get done. It would make your life substantially easier.

But at what cost?

Not at the cost of him. You couldn’t look the other way on this. You couldn’t be that selfish. Something was wrong. And even if it was just him assimilating into Iron Man, then you couldn’t let him forget who he was. “Hm.” He at least seemed to be considering it. “What’s to say I agree to that and then won’t quit?”

This sass provoked the smallest smile, unable to help yourself. “Because I know where you live. And I’ll kick your ass.”

“Both very true statements. Here.” Giving you your glass back. “Fine. Co-ownership. Until you decide to fire me for incompetence.”

Finally you gave him the actual cheers he so desperately seemed to want, touching your glass against his and taking a sip. “We’ll see.” Doing the good work of emptying your glass so you could set it aside. Leaning closer in, you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Don’t shut me out, okay?” Something was still wrong. You could feel it. “We’re a team.”

His arm came around your shoulders. “Couldn’t forget it if I tried.”

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

 Before heading back to the office, you thought you might try your luck. Anything. Anything at all to be able to get some sort of clarity. Lingering in the doorway, watching Tony type endlessly at his computer, focused intensely-

“JARVIS.” You called for the AI watching all of this unfold. Always present. Always there. Tony’s best friend next to you and Rhodey.

“Yes, ma’am?”

Tony looked up very suddenly. Giving you quite the look. Confusion with an arch of his brow, but followed swiftly by a narrow of his eyes.

“Is there something wrong with Tony?”

A long pause took hold over the entire room. But then… “Where would you like me to start, ma’am? It’s a very long list. We’ll likely be here for two hours at least.”

He breathed out a noise of amusement, ducking his head back to his computer. “Four if you wanna start from birth. Don’t you have a meeting in twenty minutes? We’ll have to have the round-table feelings session another time.”

You heaved a dramatically heavy sigh. “It was worth a shot.” Leaving finally, hearing only the barest of dark mumbling before the lab door sealed shut behind you.

#Tony Stark #Tony Stark x Reader #INY Chapter Twenty Two

[agirlinhell]

just a casual reminder that:

THIS BLOG AND ITS MUSE CONTAIN PRETTY MUCH ALMOST EVERY MAJOR TRIGGER. THIS BLOG IN ITS ENTIRETY IS EXTREMELY TRIGGERING. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

If you proceed to read this blog’s content after the multiple content warnings that I present in the blog’s rules page, you are responsible for whatever happens. I informed you of what is present. Do not try to claim I did not give you an adequate warning.

I write a lot of “horrible” shit. I literally write a sweet and innocent girl turned assassin and killer in her own right in the apocalypse for a muse - there’s very little I have an issue with writing in detail. This blog is riddled with mature content. With that said, I won’t be roleplaying with anyone under the age of sixteen. This should be obvious but just because I write disturbing content DOES NOT MEAN I SUPPORT IT.

On the topic of Clementine, she is a very morally grey character - she is neither good nor evil. She will not always be kind and sweet to your muse. She won’t always do the morally “right” thing. She will not hesitate to resort to murder, manipulation, blackmail and torture if it means getting what she wants.

Please don’t have your muse presume to know what Clementine is thinking, unless if your muse is some kind of telepath. Just because you know what going on OOCly, it doesn’t mean your character knows. Characters who seem to know more than they would is irritating and really annoying. Clementine is very charismatic, persuasive and secretive and as such, it is difficult to know exactly what she’s planning or thinking.

My Clementine has been - and still is - very lonely, and did not have friends or family for most of her life, as everyone else had either betrayed her or died, and even with her friends and accomplices, most of her friendships were merely for survival purposes. It’s fairly easy to forget that the timeline of Episodes 3 through 5 of Season One lasts only about four days. In the space of less than a week, Clementine has lost everyone she’s ever loved. She finds her parents infected, Lee is either dead or infected, and every single other person Clementine has come to rely on and know in the past three months — everyone, from Duck to Lily to Kenny to Ben and everyone in between — has died systematically over the course of a few days. Omid and Christa are the only ones who survived, but she had only met them during that four day timespan. It gets even worse as the seasons progress and this is no understatement in the slightest.

Clementine is age eighteen-nineteen and over in her default verse, as it is set post-The Final Season. With that said, most asks will be answered when Clementine is an adult, unless if the ask specifies for a specific verse.

For the love of all that is good and holy, DO NOT STEAL MY HEADCANONS FOR CLEMENTINE.

There are people I have a lot of threads with. It's inevitable that sometimes it'll appear as if I only reply to one person or the same 2-3 people simply because they're the only ones I have a lot of replies from. If you can't handle it looking like I've only responded to so called "faves" all day, when I owe you less than 5 things, don't follow me.

While Clementine in the majority of her verses is a human, there will be alternate universes where she is a vampire, werewolf, crossroad demon, shapeshifter/druid, deity, etc. and because of this, she will be very powerful and in some scenarios, even overpowered in the case of her deity verse. However, I do not powerplay/godmod/whatever else. It’s hard for some people to grasp, but for example, in my vampire or deity verses, Clementine does not give a shit about yours enough to waste her energy on them. For example: I have a verse where Clem is a goddess, and yes, she could know everything about your muse, but trust me -- she’s not going to act like it or even acknowledge what she could know. She doesn’t care to go through your muse's brain to figure out what they’re thinking. The only real metagaming you’ll see is deity!Clementine knowing your muse’s name when they haven’t given it out. I will IM the fuck out of you before I do some crazy shit with her anyway. I only ask you don’t act as if she is not a powerful goddess in said verse - because she is and she will destroy a muse that pisses her off.

Have a rules page and an about page for your character. I don’t care if your character is canon. I will not follow you if I can’t find an about section. Linking to the wikipedia/whatever page of your canon character does not count.

I don’t follow people who post ooc a lot. Blog updates, headcanons, activity notices, etc are not ooc per say but an excessive amount of them can be.

I have a really big issue with people who post super negative stuff all the time. I’d rather not have to deal with your problems on top of my own, thanks.

I absolutely will not follow you if I have to put in a ton of effort just to make it so I can actually read your information. I don't give a fuck about the "aesthetic" - just give me something to work with.

I do not follow every single blog one person has. It feels like you’re taking up a ton of my dash/followers, and it drives me insane.

I don’t follow people who are only here for shipping. If you're here just because you want to ship with Clementine, you came to the wrong place. My Clementine is not just a shipping facet.

If we do not interact within three months of becoming mutuals, unless if there’s a hiatus on your part, I will softblock/unfollow you. Interaction means a starter (or ask) and a reply. If I write you a starter and you never respond, it is not interacting.

The more we talk ooc, the easier it is for me to reply. It makes me more comfortable writing with you, and I often chat about our muses, making it a lot easier to come up with ideas and giving me a lot of muse and inspiration for our threads.

Memes can be awkward and harder for me to answer if we’ve never interacted before. I understand that a lot of people prefer memes as a means of getting things started, but I would really rather plot if you’re trying to get a thread of any substance going. I don’t mind starting with a meme, but I can almost guarantee you it’s not going to go very far if it’s our first thread.

Don’t pester me for replies. Feel free to remind me about a thread by liking my last reply to it or sending me an IM, but I will be really annoyed if you remind me more than once or twice within a month.

If I don’t like the post, I didn’t see it. Please tell me about it.

I’m a part time college student with shit mental health and confidence issues. I can be slow as hell some days and fast as fuck on others.

Once a thread is longer than two paragraphs (medium sized), it sometimes takes me 948728923660700 years to gain motivation for it. It will literally exhaust the hell out of me, but I am not against longer threads, in fact, I totally encourage them. It just takes me way longer to gather muse, time, and motivation to respond to them. If we have a longer thread together, I expect you to be patient as hell. Obviously, I will not mind waiting forever for your reply either.

I'm not going to bother with a million poorly slapped together ships for the sake of the muses involved "being cute" together. Most ships will need to be plotted, yes, even canon ships like Louis/Clementine and Violet/Clementine. My muse is not going to like yours without special circumstances and an extra push from me, especially since Clementine is demiromantic and demisexual.

I almost always answer asks in the form of a starter (questions are the common exception). Don't feel obligated to continue every ask I respond to.

Please, for the love of god, like a starter or ask response if I post it for you. I hate not knowing if you saw it or not. I will send it to you if you haven’t liked it within a few days of being active.

I have discord if for whatever reason mutuals want to speak to me outside of tumblr’s IM system - I also RP on discord - it's for mutuals only and you must let me know who you are beforehand.

#OUT OF THE APOCALYPSE. ( ANGIE SPEAKS. ) #( PSA. ) #( note: this isn't directed at anyone in particular!! ) #tw; long post

[lanaarwenlazar]

in honor of villain releasing and me starting it later today, here is a special insight into my brain in the form of the notes i made on my phone as i was reading monster last year, completely unedited (so with all my spelling mistakes and freakouts)

there are spoilers for monster, obviously

(keep in mind that i was very emotional about being back in the gone-universe, so don’t judge me lmao)

i ship malik and shade already. can’t habdle them they’re too cute

oh my god shade is basically a true crime fan, thanks i hate it

“WHATEVER MALIK DID IT GENERALLT SOMEHOW WORK” MY LOVE

...it will be interesting to see what people have to say about mg writing his first trans character

transphobic violence already, i think someone will have a problem with this chapter being called “the meet cute”

where

is

dekka

WHAT THE FUCK SHADE WHAT ARE YOU DOING YOURE INSANE

I WAS RIGHT BY THE WAY THE MOVIE SUCKED AND WAS A BAD IDEA AND I HOPE ASTRID AND SAM ARE SUFFERING AND HAVE NO FRIENDS

nooo dekka sweetie :(((

oh my god a dekka chapter what if we get updates on everyone i’m not ready

dekka is broke no :(((

but she drives a motorcycle i’m so in love

dekka has a cat. marry me

“Of those three hundred thirty-two kids, fifty-one developed one supernatural power or another. Only nineteen of you developed major powers and survived. And of these nineteen, seven have since developed serious psychological disorders” NO MY KIDS IM CRYING

“Lana Lazar spent time in a mental health facility” eeelp

“I know, she’s a friend of mine. She’s fine now.” THEY ARE FRIEND.jzoddbfb

“Others’ like Sam Temple, the supposed hero of the fayz, have had-”

HAVE HAD WHA TOM??!!!?!

“’Supposed hero?’ Screw you. You don’t disrespect Sam Temple where I can here it.” I’m 😭😭😭😭😭😭

sam was in rehab has an alcoholic kill me

and he’s on the wagon sober for sixteen months ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

DEKKA REMEMBERINH BRIANNA KILL ME

Hey, Sam’s sober and Astird got her head screwed on straight so leave them out of this - dekka out there defending her people

MG in the online: edilio is the true hero of the fayz MG in the books: sam is the true hero of the fayz me: so what is the truth?

oh my god that just means edilio is still underappreciated

DEKKA WANTS SAM AND ASTRID TO GO TO COLLEGE WORK AND ONE DAY HAVE A BABY GIRL NAMED DEKKA WHAT THE FUCK SHOOT ME

Me @ me: mg loves edilio. he will be in here. mg loves edilio. he will be in here. mg loves edilio. he will be in here. mg loves edilio. he will be-

Four year old Sean is here to cause trouble

Cruz singing my love ❤️❤️

We’ve literally just met him and Justin DeVeere already sounds like a potential school shooter

also how dare mg give him the same name as justin roger’s little brother

He’s so disgusting yikes

I don’t understand what just happened and what erin and justin are up to but WHY do i feel like they just had sex so they could have a gaia-like baby

is justin turning into the hulk or orc

Justins arm is turning into a sword

Is justin turning into drake...

Or orc/britney? Orc/britney/justin?

If Aristotle Arno Adamo is anything like Ari from Aaddtsotu i already love him

oh he’s not

Armo is the Quinn of Monster pass it on

Will Quinn be mentioned in this book?

“Armo was not part of any clique, because there was one, only one Armo at Malibu High School” oh my god he’s awful i love him

“I want to take Danish. My family is danish” bitch mine too

“You understand that everyone in Denmark speaks english right? Usually better than most Americans?” drag america i love t

god i love him

armo just survived a serious accident and he’s crying because he wreacked his car whaya guy

what are they doing to armo :(((

SHADE WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT

noo poor cruz

whyy would mg introduce malik tenerife, the biggest sweetheart and shade’s closest friend and make me fall in love with him, and then in the SAME CHAPTER introduce cruz, a new best friend for shade and then just never mention malik again???? i love cruz but i miss malik

where is knightmare

“I REREAD THE ELLISON BOOK” ASTRID WROTE A BOOK

yikes a milady dude and homophobia all in one page!!

WHY IS EVERYONE IN THIS BOOK JUST TRANSFORMING INTO BOOKS

oh shit i just understood why mg says this is part animorphs

Malik’s back my boy

DEKKAS CAT IS NAMED EDITH WINDSOR I JUST----

DEKKA TOOK THE FRAMED PICTURE OF BRIANNA WITH HER OH MY GODDD

“Only now did Dekka see that those last four years had been a dream, unreal, somehow. The FAYZ was real.” dekka bby no :(((

oh my goooood taylor is back bitches i just got chills

SHE GRABBED THE CELEBRITY GOSSIP MAGAZINES OF COURSE SHE DID I LOVE HER

dekka be nice to taylor she’s had a hard life she deserves to know the goss :))

when they’re only talking baout the kids with power... when will edilio come in

aaaand there is drake ugh. “a violent, sadistic psychopath. A rapist. A torturer. A murderer”

EDILIO WAS THERE TOO THERE TOO THE FUCK

DID MG FORGET EDILIO ECISTS

BRIANNA DEKKA SAM ASTRID TAYLOR DRAKE LANA HUNTER ORC HAVE ALL BEN MENTIONED

WHERE IS EDILIO AND LANA

Drake responsible for 18 instances of rape mutilation and murder in the last year y i k e s

Justin has a lobster claw for one hand and a sword for the other o k a y

oh my god shade could kill tr*mp

“There are three types of superheroes, Shade: Hero, Villain and Monster” *looks into the camera like i’m on the office*

CAINE AND PENNY GOT THEIR MENTIONS

NOW GIVE ME EDILIO

Malik is still in love with shade rip me

oh no cruz bby you’re invisible :((

i feel like this series will be more hard sci-fi with aliens and government and powers than gone was, gone was more of a sci-fi/dystopian/lord of the flies/survival-mix

i’m worried about armo :((

me: had never read an animorphs book in my life also me: wow this reminds me so much of animorphs!

HES A POLAR BEAR NOW

THEY’RE LITERALLY SAYING THE WORD MORPHING

should be interesting to see what kind of shit mg will get for this y i k e s

WHAT THE FUCKKKKKK IS HAPØENING THE SEAN WAS HE TURNING INTO A CATERPILLAR WITH NO MOUTH WHAT THE FUCK HE IS FOUR YEARS OLD

OH THERES HIS MOUTH WHAT THE FUCK

fuuuuck i knew he would be knightmare

at least knightmare really is the name of a shitty pretentious art student dude

a group of girl scouts just fell to their deaths off the golden gate bridge

WHO ARE THE DARK WATCHERS

i actually think they’re aliens

pls get over brianna dekka

at least mg is realizing that brekka was kind of weird

why is dekka watching danish sex. what does that even mean.

this book is unrealistic bc it’s page number 208 and dekka still hasn’t thought about edilio. who goes that long without thinking about edilio.

oh no dekka is morphing with some animal too

DEKKA HAS MEDUSA HAIR WHAT THE FUCK

the cat died WHAT THE FUCK

“Motorcycle gangs and white supremacists and registered sex offenders, that’s who dominated Perdido Beach today” yikes

Dekka mentioned the word gaiaphage and i had a physical disgusted reaction, but not because of the actual gaiaphage, but bc of that fucking website. god i lvoe that gaiaphage.com is dead.

why has mg created a worldwide perdido beach situation but just given is three books to fix it

“I was Sam’s soldier” NO??? You wrre edilio’s soldier the fuck

EVERY TIME I SEE EDITH MY HEART SKIPS BECAUSE IT STARTS WITH EDI AND I THINK ITS FINALLY GOING TO BE EDILIO

Armo and Dekka is my new brotp

WHO THE FUCK IS JEHOVA

LESS VILLAIN POVS MICHAEL PLEASE

“Hey. You. Should. Um.... Stop. Being. An. Asshole.” SHADE

Combining the villains into one villain. Very schmart michael 👌🏻

PAGE 308 EDILIO MENTION OH MY GOD

Edilio on page 309 kill me cant even quote it

GRAVES STILL THERE

IN RESPECTFUL MEMORY TO BOTH THE WISE AND THE FOOLISH WHO STRUGGLED TO SURVIVE UNSPEAKABLE HORRORS IN THIS PLACE im 😭😭

ALBERT GOT HIS DUES YEAH

BUT HOW IS EDILIO TODAY

WHERE IS DINAA LOSER

GRAVE FOR MARY 😭

GRAVE FOR DUCK 😭

GRAVE FOR HUNTER 😭

GRAVE FOR ORC 😭

Grave for Caine 😐 “Caine Soren. “King of the FAYZ. Blaze of Glory”

FIRST DIANA MENTION AND ITS HOW MUU CAINE LOVED HER IM

BRIANNA HAS A LAST NAME SOS. “Brianna Berenson. “The Breeze”. None More Bold.”

DIANA IS HERE I REPEAT DIANA IS HERE IN THE FLESH AND STILL BEAUTIFUL

DIANA PUTS FLOWERS ON THE GRAVES ONCE A WEEK OH MY HOD YOU HAVE NOTHING TO BE SORRY ABOUT I MEAN YOU DID GIVE BIRTH TO GAIA AND EAT PANDA BUT STILL

DIANA HAS A JOB AS A BARISTA HER OWN PLACE IS SEVEN MONTHS SOBER AND HAVENT TRIED TO KILL HERSELF LATELY

WAS HER AND SAM DRINKING BUDDIES

THEY SERVE A SAM TEMPLE CUCKTAIL AND A LANA VODKA

“I GUESS THEIRONY THAT FAYZERS HAVE A TENDENCY TO DRINK TOO MUCH IS LOST ON THEM” TELL THEM DEKKA

“YOU WERE GOOD TO KEEP SAM AND STRID OUT OF IT” NO TELL THEM LOSERS

DOES DIANA LIVE IN PERDIDO BEACH :((((

“THIS IS THE MOST INTIMATE IVE EVER BEEN WITH A DUDE” SAME

When Roger still hasn’t been mentioned and you know he wasn’t really that important so you can’t really complained but you miss him

and how is edilio really dekka hmmm???

Eww this Drake Brittany thing is worse if possible

wait wait wait what hoe did they get there what

if i finish monster and still don’t know how edilio is doing i’ll sue

the villain...breathes fire. he’s a dragon

Shade looks like a the bizzare cross between a flea, a Power Ranger and a teenaged girl w h a t

Vincent Vu: part fish!

noooo not malik :(((

one half of me: where the fck is edilio go talk to him dekka other half of me: edilio deserves a peaceful life thank i for keeping him away from it all

OKAY BUT WOULD EDILIO AND SAM AND EVERYONE SEE DEKKA ON THE FBI MOST WANTED LIST AND HEAR ABOUT EVERYTHING GOING ON AND SAY YIKES NOT OUR PROBLEM??? No tf they would help her!!!!

DEKKA IS WITH SAM DEKKA IS WITH SAM I REPEAT DEKKA IS WITH SAM AND HE IS HER STRONG RIGHT ARM SHOOT ME LET ME DIE

im emo

the end

missing: quinn and roger

#gone series #just a warning this is a really long list of notes siukfdsasdkf #hightlighst include: this book is unrealistic nobody goes this long without thinking about edilio #Shade looks like a bizzare cross between a flea a power ranger and a teenaged girl #and ''why is dekka watching danish sex. what does that even mean'' #i recommend this for gone-fans who doesn't want to read monster but wants to know what it's all about #and for people who have read monster and need a dumb refreshed before villain

[abirdystolemyheartonce]

I may be insane. But that’s okay?

I’m going to bare my soul here for a bit.

This is my coming out story.

I suffer. 

Living with myself on a daily basis is absolute hell, but maybe not for the reasons you might expect me to list off.

Call it a curse, a habit, a mental illness, I don’t know what to make of it anymore.

I. Love. Control.

Actually, let me revise that statement.

I have an unhealthy obsession with needing to feel useful, and to an extent, being in control. Not in the sense of being domineering and powerful, but in the sense that I need to manage my environment, my work, my daily life, and even my relationships down to the finest detail.

If I'm not in a role of authority myself I'm doing everything in my ability to help those above me or those similar to me. Anyone. Unless they get in the way or hurt you there’s no reason not to at least try.

It annoys superiors because I always go overboard. I did it a lot at my last job, always talking about how things could be improved systematically. 

"Hey, I found this way we could do (blank) that makes it super easy", or "Maybe we could try something different".

I honestly sound like such a hopeful kissass.

I understand now that I do it because I believed my whole life that I'm not important, needed, or wanted unless I am benefiting others. That my existence is justified only in what I’m able to accomplish for others and prove of myself.  I don't know if it's selfish, senseless, or just stupid that I feel that way.

Another part of it is that I'm a perfectionist, which makes it even worse. I can't stand seeing broken organization or complicated systems that could be simplified or optimized better. It drives me up the wall and I literally can’t handle it to sit by idly and do nothing.

I realize that maybe this gives me some leadership benefits, but at what cost? I don't really know what kind of image it paints of me when I feel constantly as though I'm doing it out of desperation to feel useful or needed in some way. Simultaneously though, it strengthens my character and my ability to work with others, so why should I be that bothered? Isn’t this exactly what I was raised to do? The only part I didn’t seem to get the memo on was the steel resolve because I can’t seem to reduce myself to not feeling anything, or not wanting something for myself.

That’s the clincher, though.

I go nuts. Absolutely nuts. Even when I have nothing to solve, or no angles to make any improvement, my mind is constantly whirring, wondering "what can I do right now, what can I improve right now, how can I help someone else right now, how can I feel better right now, what will this achieve right now, why am I just sitting here not doing anything right now" every god damn second of the fucking day.

It's so hard for me to relax. Impossible, often. It keeps me awake, it makes me exhausted, at worst it leads me to emotional breakdowns - though the depression and my self-image don't help - I'm caught between desperately needing to be needed and thinking I deserve every bad thing that comes my way. Less regularly, I become explosively angry, defiant, and prone to blame others. I know I've got problems, and although I've converted some of those into great strengths, they can be equally damaging and unhealthy. It's so confusing and hard to manage. And with that, the less control I have over myself out of everything I want to have control over, the more unworthy and rotten I feel.

Maybe this sounds monochromatic in some ways, but it’s not. 

Because honestly I do care a lot and I do want to help people out of the bottom of my heart. Before even being taught that I've always been that person. So my angle isn’t just to have control, it’s like a tangible thing that’s rooted itself in me and morphed and convoluted with age. It's like a multi-dimensional hell in that regard. A literal battle with myself that I’m constantly winning and losing simultaneously, whether involuntarily or by choice, I don’t know. The only thing I know for sure is that it’s never resolved. It never just stops. I can try as I may and say I’m getting better and it comes back around full-circle again and again.

You know the best part about it all? I neglect my basic needs. Have since I was little. I feel like I’m worth so little that I need to devote all of my effort to everyone and everything BUT myself. It’s a struggle to even remember to take care of myself. People are often surprised to hear that I let my room get disorderly or don’t take care of my health given how “organized” I am externally. Let’s not even get into all the methods I’ve harmed myself or abused substances over the years.

The stupid thing is even as I write this, I’m feeling it. Clawing at me. Telling me to stop while I’m ahead. That I should feel bad for admitting this. Like I’ve done something wrong or broken some unethical code by doing so. It’s a constant feeling driving me to the edge every moment, a constant feeling and a constant reminder of what a mess I am. I live most of my days so emotionally numb because I’m used to tuning out the internal struggle that often I manage to forget it’s there. It becomes this kind of fog that sits around me that I avoid facing. Like something that will eat me alive or kill me if I stop moving. And that’s how it weasels back into my conscious over and over and over. I escape for only brief periods of time before it comes back in full force until the emotions hurt me to the point of my brain actually shutting them out. Like a magnetized kind of switch in my brain that I can will to shut off but every time draws me painfully into registering its existence - my existence.

I know logistically this boils down to perception. But it's ... extremely hard to live with. I guess ... I’m slowly learning there are a lot more complicated things about me than I ever realized. More importantly, it's not my fault. I was raised to believe this, to be this, while at the same time learning to doubt myself and my self-worth. I don't have to hate myself for it, though. I know that. I know I need help, too. And whenever I can afford that someday, I’m sure that’ll be a dream come true. In the meantime, I have to desperately help myself. Remind myself that there are greater things, greater places, and greater forces to continue to fight for. I have to remind myself that I’m not alone. That the world is beautiful and we are all suffering so similarly, although we all are different. Those reminders get me through. The people I’ve met, the friends I’ve made, they help me get through. But mostly, I get me through. Just barely, but I’m too stubborn to quit above all else. With a twisted combined sense of injustice and relishing the suffering aside, I know there’s more to my life than this. I know I’m worth more than this and I owe it to myself to try. I just have to find whatever little ways I can regain my humanity and remember why I’m still here every day to get through. 

To survive with this insanity.

#personal #rant #Trigger warning #mental insanity #emotions #depression #dark thoughts #self worth #instability #delirious #needy #blame #self hate #control #frantic #manic #existential #existential thoughts #purpose #meaning #self neglect #confession #tw: #ocd #fear

[thoughtsandfeelingsakanobullies]

I really just want to express that I think a lot of people don't really understand what depression is. Depression isn't just sad. This is one thing that I can assure you as I've been dealing with it for years. this is not some come and go type of feeling. Depression is something like a really bad entity waiting for you to slip up and get sad and sadness is the segway to being buried in depression(hell) for some people, sadness will happen in their life and then they can bounce out of it. But people with depression or, this is my experience now, but people with depression get tripped up by sadness and they stay there for hours days or weeks or months or years and it comes in pockets throughout these time periods and from my experience the week-long and month-long pockets of sadness can be very dangerous, as a lot of times during these pockets of sadness a lot of bad dangerous thoughts come to my head. I think this is one thing that a lot of people don't understand and come on I mean like who wants to be sad? Like think about it this is not something that somebody is doing just to be that way. At least for me I don't want to be sad all the time! I feel like this is a really crippling disease, I feel like this is something that nobody should ever be dealing with and enjoying it! So when people say that people are doing it for attention or to be coddled or whatever it is absolutely upsetting to hear. This is something that I wish that nobody ever has to go through , it is absolutely terrible. I mean this is something that is taking away from valuable lifetime! Depression takes away time from having the chance to meet people to do music or whatever your passion is. It takes away from time that you could be making great connections and moving forward in life. I don't know if I've said this yet but it is a really damaging thing to deal with. And not to be funny I'm typing this as I go so I don't remember if I've expressed this yet but, depression causes great strain on the brain so much strain in fact that it causes memory loss short term memory loss in particular. which is crazy because we want to forget all the bad that happened a long time ago but it seems to stick around in our minds and continues to torture us yet we can't remember things that just happened minutes or seconds ago. I mean it's almost like a really bad joke! it really feels like life is having its way with you! feelings like this can drive anyone insane! I mean I would do anything absolutely anything to escape the way I feel and have felt for years. Even if it means dying. like I really want to find the right person to talk to so I can feel safe with my issues because a lot of therapists do not make you feel safe A lot of times as a teenager I talked to a therapist and it never helped. I mean I will admit it felt good to get things off of my chest and off of my mind that bothered me, but it never solved the root issue. The only thing that those sessions led to we're me having to go on meds or either me lying and saying I was okay just so I wouldn't have to take meds as the meds made the depression worse even turning the depression into intense suicidal episodes that have either left my body damaged and / or probably even changed my mental into something worse as sometimes I remember doing drastic things to hurt myself that I would say I believe definitely changed me both mentally and physically. fortunately none of it led to major damage to where I still have a functioning brain in a manner that I can communicate well through typing (sometimes depending on how bad the depression is). I mean sometimes the episodes get so bad to where I can't find myself to speak and I will shut down and not talk to anybody for days or weeks. so when somebody says, " oh you're just sad you'll get over it" they clearly don't have an understanding of what depression is. it's far more dangerous than just sadness! depression even carries things along with it to the point where when you do climb out of an episode feeling okay you can bet that other issues have arrived with its

presence. unfortunately for me really bad anxiety and terrible OCD have developed as a result of the depression which still hasn't gone away. when these month-long week-long pockets of depression occur, imagine them being like at the bottom of a roller coaster, you're still on a fast-track to Danger but you're literally down at the moment but the high spikes and twists and turns is the suicide the anxiety and the OCD. it's all a part of the same scary ride just different and all very dangerous and their own way. nobody wants to be upset for days and weeks and months on end which spans over Year's worth of Lifetime. no normal human being would want to feel this way I can't imagine that! what I and anyone else dealing with this for that matter, really want is just to be happy and the fight to get to happiness has been a struggle. and I mean pure happiness life isn't perfect I get it but I can't recollect not even a time over the past decade or so where I was straight just happy for weeks at a time or even just chill. like nobody's just going to smile for two weeks straight, that's unrealistic and if they are they're not really happy I can assure you because when I was working at my last job, I was the overly happy individual with the high-pitched voice and smiling all the time. I know I wasn't happy! So anyone doing this can't be happy they're just faking it to get through the day which is what I was doing! that was absolutely exhausting because I will come home and I will crash as if I had been carrying a big weight around with me all day and stepping into my apartment and locking the door finally felt like a big weight was being lifted off of my shoulder. this in my eyes is mental distress this in my eyes is bad mental health a smooth transition from work to home should be normal. but no! I would come home and crash I would literally not take a shower I will plop on my couch with my dirty work clothes on which is why I was glad I had an inflatable couch instead of a real couch all the time that even affected me because I never wanted to sit on the inflatable couch after a while as I knew it had accumulated so much dirt. I mean the couch didn't look dirty but I know in my mind that I had come home multiple times exhausted from work and had plopped down on that couch! so in my mind the couch was dirty! so I didn't want to sit on it any longer. so I was forced to sit in a computer chair that I had in my kitchen in my small one bedroom apartment. it's more than just laziness, I mean I worked all day carrying this mental weight waiting for the day to end, and then when it will finally end I would definitely drive home get into my apartment make sure I lock the door and plopped down into that chair in my kitchen I was too exhausted to take my shoes off and I was too exhausted to change out of my work clothes so I will fall asleep between the time I got home from work which was around 5 or 6 a clock and I will wake up around 8 or 9 and decide to cook something while still in work clothes. I will eat then fall asleep in that chair a lot of times even crying while it was so lonely in that apartment while the circulating floating intrusive thoughts like suicide and dangerous random things happening to me or my loved ones would float through my head! it was like I could never get a break in actuality! it was either me thinking about the bad that happened at work that day, or either me thinking about horrible scenarios where I meet my demise, or either me worrying about my loved ones! I mean I could not get a break no matter what I did and it has been that way for years. pockets of Happiness do we exist where they come in great spikes but they don't last long and then I come plummeting down like a building and demolition, I literally just fall apart to the point where I find it hard to imagine functioning normal again. Hobbies become obsolete like music and art, the desire to live really becomes questionable and then not only that you start to juggle the thoughts in your mind of " oh what will my family think if I kill myself" "

will they think I'm selfish" " no I need to stay here for my loved ones"

and all of these types of thoughts pop in your head what you want to leave behind for what family member if you do die and sometimes the thought doesn't even occur sometimes you're so set on killing yourself that you do something that damages your body and then your mortality steps in and shocks you with fear and pain and then you picture your mother and father and close family members crying after they have lost you. these intrusive and very Vivid thoughts and visions of your family crying about the thought of you being gone pops into your head leaving you helpless and and crying in the middle of your bed or the middle of your floor with you not knowing what to do! you then pull yourself up after however long the episode was, you either leave the blood or clean the blood up that you have left behind from trying to kill yourself or take the belt from around your neck, and then you climb back into the unsure pattern that you were in before of working and coming home feeling the same way as you did before. it is a vicious cycle of never ending chaotic despair..

So when someone says oh you're just sad, you then realize or atleast start to feel that that person is having a much better and blissful life than you are. you begin to either think this person is not a deep thinker or just doesn't deal with these type of things or either that person was dealt the best hand or either arrogance carries them through life comfortably or maybe you start to really feel that you deserve to be mentally distraut and depressed all the time, and you start to lose it again and then eventually go home and hurt yourself badly again. it is a dangerous cycle it's a stressful cycle therapist only prescribe you medicines that make it worse so you stop going to therapy you stop taking medicine and then you get bullied between anxiety OCD and big bad depression and they toss you around like they do pizza dough at a pizza parlor... I'm not just sad, it's way more to it. I really do love my family and I hope they see this and understand that im not like this because I want to be. I am like this because I don't know how to just BE..Im lost.

[tumblunni]

Oh god this article is so long and just keeps getting scarier what the fuck They RELEASED THE SECOND ATTEMPTED MURDERER WHO WASNT SCHIZOPHRENIC?? We like.. don’t even have any details on her cos she only got three years and is long gone?? SHE LITERALLY GOT RELEASED ON THE INSANITY DEFENSE DESPITE HAVING NO MENTAL ILLNESS The court painted the schizophrenic girl as the ringleader because of her schizophrenia and gave the neurotypical girl an ‘insane by proxy’ not guilty verdict cos oooo she must have just been manupulated by the scary mentally ill girl who THE COURT DECIDED WAS NOT MENTALLY ILL, WHILE RELEASING SOMEONE ELSE ON THE GROUNDS THAT SHE WAS MANIPULATED BY A MENTALLY ILL GIRL. How does the second verdict not void the first one??? And then she just got.. REPEATEDLY diagnosed with schizophrenia by SO MANY people and just kept getting sent to worse and worse adult prisons and denied parole??? she almost got raped by her roommate and she wasnt even coherant enough to explain what was happening to her parents, like fuck it was SO CLOSE! and the rapist also got off scot free and also got released because this girl who WASNT ABLE TO READ OR WRITE OR RECOGNISE HER PARENTS’S FACES ANYMORE was deemed to be capable of making up a complex story about sexual acts that she wouldnt have been able to understand even if she was a normal kid of that age... oh fucking GOD... and on top of everything else they wouldnt let her have her GLASSES in prison?? this girl who was hallucinating got treatment that limited her vision?? HOW THE FUCK IS THAT SUPPOSED TO.. GOD.. CHRIST... NO WONDER SHE TRIED TO KILL HERSELF! and oh goddddd it says that she got to see a psychologist once FINALLY after all these years for just ONE WEEKEND before the courts dragged her back out of there and locked her up in the same prison she finally got medication and it says that in her one therapy session they explained to her what she did and she was finally able to understand it and she hated herself and then she was thrown back into her hallucinations with no help ever again fuck fuck fuck FUCK

oh fucking god thank you oh fuck it does end with saying she’s in a hospital now oh fuck oh god i was expecting this to end on just that note and for me to scream eternally at how the artcle has no information on how to donate to this family dear GOD she’s at a hospital oh fucking god but the trauma of all those years has still left her shattered and her progress is slow, apparantly :( god i wish i heard about this earlier and i could have donated to the family oh god imagine if she’d been able to get this treatment earlier oh god oh god and her mother is finally able to see her oh fuck thank god fuck it talks about her mother rushing against the traffic to not even be one minute late, always arriving early and having to sit shakily in the waiting room and then how neither of them even know what to say during these half-hour visits but the kid still freaks out so much seeing the clock tick down and just wants to sit there with her mum and hold hands in silence forever she just wants to get in the car and drive home and sleep in her own bed for the first time in so many years fuckkkkkkkk

“I can’t rescue who I want to rescue,” she acknowledged quietly. “So a kitten will have to do for now.” FUCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKK fuckkkk she saw a starving feral kitten on the drive to visit her daughter and ran around trying to find it again and take it to the vet just so she’d have one happy thing to tell her daughter FUCKKKKING HELLLLL

“ As we spoke that day, Angie spotted the kitten she’d come to save and cornered it. But then an adult cat emerged from the shadows and stepped protectively between them. The relationship between the two felines was clear. So, Angie returned to her car empty-handed. Sick or not, she thought, the kitten belonged with its mother. “ fuck you didnt have to end this article on some cheesy note like that, why the fuck are you doing this to me did that even actually happen or are you just trying to use journalistic metaphors to desperately make people sympathise with this poor child? cos seriously WHAT THE FUCK it is so disgusting that nobody has been giving her the barest shred of human rights, do we really have to resort to fucking kitten stories because nobody actually cares about a severely mentally ill child who has barely seen sunlight for three years due to a FUCKING LAW THAT TREATS TEN YEAR OLDS AS ADULTS

god i think im gonna puke why did i read this why is there no way i can help, oh goddd all the news every day is just more human rights atrocities i cant help with and i’m so scared im gonna either become desensitized or turn it all into wah wah what about me, feel sad for ME, wah wah i fucking feel like killing myself because i watched the news FUCKING. SHUT. UP. HEAD. thats not gonna solve anything thats not gonna make anything better oh goddd im really fucking lightheaded goddd why did i read this but i’d be a monster if i stuck my head in the sand and ignored horrible news cos i care more about myself than other people But GAHHH why cant I HELP?? i cant help either way??? where the fuck is the justice aaaarrgh all i can do is cry about these people so i feel like i have to do it, even if it doesnt help, even if it just makes me want to die god can i like.. rebalance the amount of sympathy in the world. can i somehow make the people who actually can help actually help by weeping all over my keyboard in a terrible fucking january fuck what the fuck goodness do i give back to the world, im just sitting here taking and taking and sponging off mental health government and making the world worse and FUCK how the fuck can i even say that while i’m crying ABOUT mentally ill people deserving treatment?? bunni’s shit brain: no u are the only one who doesnt deserve it in the world, somehow fuck i ‘m gonna go try and calm down fuckkkk so umm yeah warning dont read that article while you’re in a vunerable mental state but its really important to read cos like.. all i can do at least is be aware of the atrocities in the world and keep my eyes open for someday somehow where i can help.. i guess... god i think my life would actually be worth something if i could help someone else god i just want to die fuck fuck fuckkkk...

#blunni thoughts #sorry dont worry im not gonna do anything i'll be okay #i get moments like this often #feeling suicidal is a common thing but if i was feeling suicidal AND worried i couldnt deal with it this time #then i'd ask for help yeah probably probably but i dont want to be any trouble oh god #fuck fuck fuck im gonna go read stupid harry potter reviews on the internet #STOP THINKING OF YOU STOP BEING SELFISH WHAT THE FUCK YOURE JUST TRYING TO AVOID THINKING #ABOUT THE ACTUAL PROBLEM WHY IS EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU #fuck fuck fuck fuck #all i've ever fucking done is drawn some really shitty art that fails at even cheering people up #its all i can do and i dont even have skill at it #fuck i cant even take care of my own damn house i need to vaccuum everything fuck fuck fcuk #i need to think about anything else but i need to think about this too cos i need to remember other people have it worse #fuck im sorry im talking too much im sorry