#real talk i’m very proud of myself and i’ve come so so so far in 3 years and it’s kind of insane to think about

[eurydicees]

three yrs clean…how should i celebrate. taking silly goofy suggestions only

#my roommate says i should custom design an oikawa mug and i am genuinely considering it #real talk i’m very proud of myself and i’ve come so so so far in 3 years and it’s kind of insane to think about #so i cannot make a sappy post about it or i Will Cry #so i’m just gonna. silly celebrations rn.

[borderlinebelle]

🗣️🧠

Has anyone ever taken a stimulant for ADHD and it cured your manic mess but simultaneously erased your creative joyful childlike wonder at the world and your interest in the people you share it with?

💊

Am I cured or broken indefinitely to better suit “adulthood”?

🙃

As I wade through the vibrant and manic mess that was the BEFORE STIMULANTS and I look out onto the starkly dull and muted tones of the AFTERS STIMULANTS… the pendulum swings and I violently and obediently bend with it.

🫡

I can balance my budget now. Proficient in punctuality and productivity. Finishing work projects that used to take weeks? EASY. Calculating and efficient, I am almost unemotional as I smash through barriers that once kept me at a stand still for weeks.

🥇

The counter balance to these super abilities is glaring:

👀

1. I find it difficult to produce an ounce of creativity.

2. I am colder, more calculating.

3. I find empathy over other people’s emotions a far off tingle of familiarity I reach for and only brush.

4. I find even accessing my own emotions to be difficult.

5. I find little pleasure from completing tasks just a dull and far off ✅ that reminds me of pleasure but has none of the organic material.

6. I lack spark behind my eyes.

🗣️🧠

In conclusion, the video I filmed for today’s YOUTUBE launch felt… soulless and lacking. It felt disingenuous. I wasn’t talking to YOU, my mental health friends. I was just … talking.

😪

TO BE BRUTALLY HONEST: I’m unsure how to proceed with the channel, with my content… with my identity outside of MANIC PIXIE DREAM GIRL … I feel really really defeated if I’m honest. I’ve spent my entire adult life in survival mode and for the first time, on this new medication, I can see dozens of strategies to LEAVE SURVIVAL and CHASE AFTER THRIVE… but I didn’t think it would COST ME… my personality, my creativity, my identity.

🔎🤷🏽‍♀️

Idk but, I guess .. that’s the way with these things. Mental health, medication, stabilization…

🫥

Mental health isn’t “pretty and punctual” so said my producer tonight. It can ALSO be “imperfect and valuable”. Nothing is a perfect science, everyone is just doing their best I guess.

😮‍💨

Fighting your own brain 🧠 daily, hourly, weekly, monthly, yearly is exhausting work. I’m so deeply proud of everyone out there choosing to fight another day. I hope to continue being as brave and resilient as you all are.

🫣

It’s 12:00am. I’ve officially missed the “NEW VIDEO EVERY SUNDAY” standard I set for myself and I have to admit I’m taking it very poorly and I feel pretty defeated, but I had to come let the few who support my cross platform… that I’m sorry I couldn’t get there today.

🫀

Returning to YouTube after being run off by a parasocial making very real threats years ago, has been a delicious dream of mine for so long.

💭

I just deactivated both my Instagram and Facebook as they were both just reminding me of this missed deadline, of this empty channel, of what feels like a failure. In the age of comparison and competition, TO BE A HUMAN IS NOT EASY.

😬

So I’ll regroup, recoup, lean into coping mechanisms, touch base with my therapist + psychiatrist… and keep trying to find a way through.

💙

Thank you for your interest in my content.

🥸

I appreciate you deeply.

🫶🏽

I anticipate that this hopefully … won’t be the end.

🖊️ xoxo borderlinebelle

#BorderlineBelle #mental health matters #mentally drained #personality disorder #actually adhd #stimulants #recovery #personal #embarrassing #i want to crawl into a hole and rest for 100 years #i want to wander away #adulthood is a scam #failure #bpd shit #bpd vent #bpd thoughts #bpd feels #rage quit #numb inside #love that for me #Texas here I come #youtube creator #mental health is health #mental health is messy

[writingsfromhome]

Dos and Dont’s Epilogue

Part 1 / 2/3/4

A/N: for those of you still needing more closure with this story this is for you

——————————————

6 months later:

My apartment was small but it was mine and I got to share it with one of my childhood best friends I’d reconnected with after moving back to the states last year.

Today the sun was setting on the beautiful November day. I had ordered in sushi and was enjoying a glass of wine, waiting for Deanna to get back home and tell me about her date.

These quiet evenings to myself always got me contemplative. Tonight was no different—I get to thinking about my day on set and how tomorrow was going to look.

After coming back from London and submitting my video proposal last spring, I had been rejected to nobody’s surprise. But that hadn’t stopped Harry from intervening and getting me a spot on set. It became a joke that I was a ghost intern there because really all I got to do was shadow people on set and help out where I could. And it had left me hungry for more.

I started building a portfolio and networking like crazy to get on more sets. So far I’d worked on three, once as a general assistant and twice as an arts assistant. I felt myself moving in the right direction I wanted to and it was thrilling.

I had Harry to thank for that really. And just like always, thinking about him sent a pang of achey regret through me.

I’m not sure what happened between us; we kept in touch loosely after I got back to the States. Mostly we talked about my future work and getting on set but after he actually got me on set and I got busy, our conversations fizzled out.

When I landed my second gig and had to maneuver my old job with Oretta she had ultimately let me go. I’d been bitter about failing something then but now I saw it as the kindness that it was—she had let me go and I had the room to pursue this new career.

It wasn’t easy though. The feeling of failure had driven me into the arms of a depressive episode that had taken me back home to Burbank. And when headlines were made of Harry’s new dates and women of the week, I’d taken it as a sign. We shouldn’t be in each other’s lives.

But I missed him every time I thought about him. And I always hated myself a little for not being brave enough to do anything about it, for pushing him away, and for liking him in the first place.

Clearly I was a very health person.

There was a knock on the door and I knew it had to be Deanna.

She distracts me with stories about her date and how well they hit it off. Apparently he kissed her goodnight right downstairs while I’d been drowning in misery on our living room couch.

The next morning, my phone rings at the ass crack of dawn. I expect it’s someone on set and end up being right. So with a few hours of sleep and a slight hangover from last night’s wine, I pick up a large coffee and get to work.

Last night’s thoughts bleed into my drive to work. It was when I was on set especially that I wanted to message Harry. I wanted to update him about all the cool things I was working on and hear what he thought. It was stupid but I wanted him to be proud of me too.

I wonder sometimes if I should have said something in London, been the bold one and taken a leap.

But I couldn’t have.

Harry was a damn rockstar and I was still figuring out my life. I can’t imagine it could have worked. So was it just the maybe, the what-if of us that kept looping in my mind? Or did what I feel for him mean something real, real enough not to shake so quickly.

A knock on my window scares me. It’s another one of the set assistants—Damien, waving at me. I guess I’ve just been parked staring into space. Oops.

“You need a coffee,” he tells me when I join him.

“Can you believe I’ve already had one?”

“I can probably find you a line of coke somewhere on set if you need something stronger?”

“Damien,” I pretend to be scandalized. But after working with these people over the last few years it was a pretty normal sight to see. “Ease into it first.”

He laughs, “I’m joking. I know you’re not…”

“I know,” it gets a bit awkward as it usually did with Damien and I when we started joking. “I’m joking too.”

His face flushes and I welcome someone calling me over to leave the awkward.

The day passes in a blur, the art director had a last minute change sending me to a local antique store trying to source props which was part of the job I enjoyed. With my headphones in I was in a world of structured creativity.

While I look through gold frames one of Harry’s songs comes on and I skip it automatically. I wasn’t quite ready to listen to his addictive voice croon about lovers of his past.

Not that I hadn’t tried going on dates of my own. But the thought of what-if kept me committing to anyone. If I thought about it for long enough it was actually annoying—how he somehow managed to still block my romantic life.

I’m invited for drinks after we’re done shooting for the day. Even though it’s pretty late I decide to say yes. Lately I’d spent my evenings when Deanna’s out just drinking by myself and being miserable. May as well drink with coworkers.

And I actually missed having regular coworkers, like I used to have Winnie. Shit talking about work to destress and drink was one of the highlights of making friends at work.

I have more to drink than I intended, and a small voice in my brain tells me that the amount of alcohol I’d been having recently might be a sign I’m losing it a little. But I order one last drink to shut it up.

At one point I start talking about horoscopes with someone in the bathroom and she ends up showing me how to use the lipstick I complimented them on to overline my lips, and I somewhat remember signing someone’s napkin and telling them to keep it for a few years and what it would be worth.

I also text Deanna an assortment of things and try to call my sister for a pressing matter that I can’t remember when it goes to voicemail. I end up babbling about drinking too much and needing to cut back.

I don’t know what time it is by the time I’ve ridden my high but I want to go home. I huddle by the entrance trying to remember if I came with a jacket tonight or not.

“You’re not driving home tonight are you?” Damien pops up beside me. We’d chatted throughout the night but I’d avoided any awkwardness by constantly inviting other people into the conversation. But right now he has me cornered.

“I’m a very responsible adult Damien,” I slur. “I am getting a taxi.”

“I can drive you home?” He offers.

“You were drinking too mister.”

“No,” he touches the tip of his nose. “I just had a beer and switched to soda afterwards.”

“That’s cheating,” I touch his nose and he laughs. I laugh too.

“We were invited out to drink,” he shrugs. His face flushes. “They didn’t specify what.”

“Cheater,” I tease. “D’you have a car?”

“I could drive yours home? And take an uber home from yours. We don’t live too far away.”

“No way!” I clutch my purse to me. “Nobody drives my car.”

“I didn’t realize you were so possessive.”

“It’s my car!” I let him know.

“But it’s parked on the street. You can’t leave it here weirdo.”

He had a point. Damnit.

“Fine,” I hand him my purse. He opens it tentatively and pulls the keys out.

“I just need these,” he hands my purse back.

“I need those back,” I remind him.

“I know,” he laughs, his hand coming down on my shoulder to lead me out. It sends a shiver down my spine. “I’m parking it in your garage and handing them right back.”

“Good.” I nod.

I pick the music until he tells me I shouldn’t go into singing and he switches the radio to a classical station. I pretend to snore.

“At least it might sober you up.” He pats my leg before snatching his hand off when he realizes he’d touched my bare thigh.

“I don’t feel so good.”

“I know, how much did you drink tonight y/n?”

“No I really don’t feel good.” I complain.

“Shit,” he mutters. “Just hold on.”

I do, I grip my door handle and will myself not to throw up in my car. I was at least lucid enough to know I would hate myself for having to clean it up tomorrow.

He pulls into a Trader Joe’s and I launch myself out in time to throw up on the pavement.

“Are you o-“

“Stop!” I splay my hand out behind me. This was embarrassing enough I didn’t need him to see me actually be sick. “Don’t come closer just…”

“I’ll get you some water.” He calls out and walks away.

How pathetic, I think. How pathetic was I.

Suddenly I want to cry and be left alone. I don’t want Damien driving me home, I don’t want to be drunk, and I don’t want to be here in the middle of nowhere.

When Damien gets back I’m sitting on the curb of a garden bed at the edge of a parking lot. He hands me the water and some electrolytes and gives me space which I’m grateful for. He does linger halfway in the driver’s seat and my anxiety builds until I get up and head back to the car.

“Someone kept calling you,” Damien mentions when I open my door. “I picked up after the third call. I didn’t want to bother you out there.”

“Oh, was it my roommate? Deanna?”

“No,” he scratches the back of his neck. I stare at him, waiting for him to sit back in the car and take me home. I wasn’t having fun anymore.

“Okay…?” I grab my phone from the centre console so I can check myself.

“Someone named Harry? He sounded worried?”

I look up at Damien, wondering if it was a joke even though I know it’s not. He doesn’t even know Harry. His face reflects back an awkward realization.

“Oh.” I can’t get out anything more. I could be decent and tell him that wasn’t my boyfriend—it wasn’t until this moment that I realized Damien was looking at me as more than just a casual friend. And a part of me wonders if that’s the only reason he was helping me out tonight. Then I banish the thought—that was rude. “Thanks for…letting me know.”

“I guess you don’t live with him if your roommate’s name is Deanna,” he tries to joke as he finally gets into the car.

“No that would be hard,” I reply. “He doesn’t live in the states.”

“Long distance,” he nods. I don’t reply and the car goes deathly silent as he drives me the rest of the way home.

I check my phone in the silence, Harry’s texted me. Before he called it seems:

Hey is everything alright?

Y/N I want to call you, you didn’t sound too good in your vm

I’m calling you

Shit! Did I call him first?

My face heats up with a stabbing sensation and I try to blink away the headache that was forming.

I check my call logs and sure enough after calling Deanna I’d called Harry. Why had I called him? I don’t even remember what I said in my voice message.

I groan.

“Is everything ok?” Damien asks.

“No I feel like shit-“

“Do you need me to stop again-“

“No.” I wave his concern away. “I just need to get home.”

I feel bad for him. I didn’t think I was leading him on in any way and yet he had driven me home because he liked me? I decide I’d call him his Uber myself to make it even. To feel like I didn’t owe him something.

When I finally drudge up my stairs to my bedroom I can barely be bothered to remove my clothes or take off my makeup. But my brain is wired thinking about Harry, how he called me.

I must still be somewhat drunk because as I lay horizontally in bed with half of my clothes on the floor I pick up the phone and call him.

H’s POV:

“Hi,” her voice is small and tired. My heart squeezes just hearing it.

“Y/n, you’re alright.”

“Yeah sorry, I think I mis-called you instead of my sister. Your names are beside each other.”

“So you were spilling your guts to your sister then?” I smile.

“Spilling my guts?” I can hear the strain in her voice.

I let her worry for a second longer, “No I’m joking.”

“Oh my god,” she sighs. “What did I say? Please tell me it was nothing embarrassing? It had to be bad if you called me right?”

“It wasn’t bad.” It wasn’t. But she sounded really drunk for a Wednesday night and she was blabbering about drinking too much these days, and needing to stop. It made more sense now that I knew it was for her sister. “But you sounded very drunk. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Sort of. I just wanted an excuse to call her and life had given me a pretty one.

It was stupid that I needed an excuse to call y/n after everything we went through. But truth was I had tried to get on with my life after we drifted away. And I think I did a decent job. I made the missing part shaped like y/n smaller and smaller until it didn’t bother me as much she wasn’t around. That we didn’t talk.

It was weird because she was a constant for a year—whether I liked it or not we had to be around each other all the time while she worked for me. Right up to the end even as things soured, as I wore regret like a second skin and forced myself to continue being the dick that she came to know me as.

And then she left and it felt like loosening my tie; breathing a little easier because I wasn’t always so hyperaware of her in the same room or next room over, about how she looked that day or the way she smelled, the joke she made or how angry she was with me.

Yet it didn’t help that she lingered everywhere.

But then I got to have her. All of her for a few weeks and letting her go after that felt more akin to torture than living with the regret for months while she worked for me. It was worse because I had her and I had to let her go.

I thought I knew what falling felt like, what it felt like to love somebody in all their flaws and be seen in return. But then I met y/n, fell for y/n, and everything changed.

“I’m okay,” she says softly. “I’m home in bed now.”

“Good,” I want to ask her about him. The bloke that answered the phone.

“Where are you?” She asks suddenly. “Isn’t it very early there?”

“Nearly half past 6,” I say looking at my watch. “And I’m at the gym.”

“That’s early,” she comments.

“I’m a morning gym person now.”

“Watch out world,” she says. It’s sleepy and makes me think of her curled into me on the sofa as our voices dim into sleep. Then nudging her to stay over and falling asleep in bed with me. So many hours of movies gone unwatched because we were too busy just being in each other’s presence.

The thing was, I had to let her go; you can’t cage a bright and vibrant woman like her. But it hurt doing that.

It sucked being selfless.

“You sound tired,” I say even though I want her on the line. Even if it’s to hear the sound of her breathing. “You should go to bed.”

“Sorry,” she whispers. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

My breath catches in my throat. I wanted to worry about her, to be close to her enough to worry. And the want of it feels like being punched in the gut.

“You there?” She asks.

“Yeah. Yep, sorry.” I clear my throat. “I’m still here. And it’s fine. I know what can happen when you get drunk, I’m glad you left me the voicemail.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” I miss you. I miss you so often I worry I’ll be stuck with the loss of you forever. And I care so much about you that I can’t risk ruining your life by having you.

“At least I didn’t have to go to the hospital this time.” She jokes. Her speech grows slower as I’m sure sleep pulls her in.

“No. Seemed like you would’ve had help though.” I comment. Fuck. I couldn’t resist.

“If I knew any better Mr. Styles,” she says. “I’d think that sounds like jealousy.”

She’s teasing me, I can hear it in her voice. But my heart pounds as she calls me out.

“Goodnight y/n,” I say cowardly.

“Goodnight Harry,” she replies. I wait for her to hang up first.

That morning, I have an incredibly productive gym session.

Your POV:

I remember last night in bits and pieces and I’m mostly embarrassed but I can’t stop hearing Harry’s voice in my head. The way he sounded when he said he was glad I left him the voicemail. How he sounded almost jealous at the idea that whoever picked up the phone could be more than a friend. I feel sucked right back to half a year ago when I couldn’t get him out of my mind.

The one thing I did know though, I had to really cut back on the drinking.

I go into work with a bag of doughnuts and hope nobody remembers last night in detail. I make sure to thank Damien and he’s as awkward as ever.

My thoughts are replaced by business and set instructions as the day goes on and I’m grateful for that.

At home I dissect the phone call with Deanna and when I’ve had enough I try to distract myself by asking about her life.

In a way talking to Harry again was like taking an elephant-sized step backwards—it felt like I was in the same headspace of wondering about him and yearning for him all over again. I found myself looking him up, checking to find new information on his life. Even when I could just text him and get the answers straight from him.

A couple weeks later as I park my car in my garage and make my way up to my apartment I get a call. It’s him.

“Hi? Harry?” I answer.

“There she is!” He says loudly into the phone. I have to pull it from my ear.

“Jeez you’re loud,” I comment.

“I need you to be louder,” he laughs. And I realize why he’s called. I check the time, it must be near midnight in the UK.

“Are you drunk dialling me?” My face stretches into a smile and it feels like a betrayal. Why did this man affect me so easily.

“I thought that’s what we did nowadays! Call each other drunk!”

“That was once,” I enter my apartment and put away my things while we talk.

“You’ve unlocked the garden door,” he continues. “And now I have stepped through. I am calling you.”

“He rhymes even when he’s drunk!”

“I write music!”

“I know,” I laugh. “Good music.”

“D’you listen to me?” He asks. “I never asked you that.”

“Mmm not really my taste,” I tease.

“S’cuse me?!” He sounds offended. “I have heard your taste and my music is for your palate.”

“No I don’t think so,” I was having fun.

“Y/n.” He says seriously. “I have heard you listening to Troye Sivan.”

“And? Are you comparing yourself with that fine man?”

He sputters and I continue winding him up until I finally confess: “I listen to your music. Just not lately.”

“Why?” He sounds sad.

“Are you drinking by yourself?” I ask. I imagine him in his living room, knocking back a few bottles.

“Yes. I’m drinking all by my lonely self. Because you’re not here.”

“Lonely self? That’s not what the papers say,” I say without meaning to.

“Y/n,” he lets out a small laugh. “Y/n y/n y/n. If I knew any better I’d think that sounds like jealousy.”

“Oh you’ve been keeping that in your back pocket!” I flush.

“Mhm,” he hums happily.

God, it hits me, what were we doing.

The line goes silent and I try to muster a positive voice to ask something to keep the conversation going but I find I can’t. I feel heavy and sad, like there’s a weight in my chest that’s pulling me down.

“Y/n,” he murmurs. Goosebumps erupt across my chest and I recall a memory of that exact voice in my ear with our hands entangled in his bed.

The ache in my chest grows stronger. So strong I nearly confess three words I barely admitted to myself.

I didn't understand it; how a man that made my life so miserable for so long could tug forth such intensity and longing.

He'd explained it to me—told me why he became what he did. And it just endeared me to him more.

Every man l've dated since, even the man I thought was it for me-Gray, never made me reach so deep into any feeling I was scraping the bottom looking for more.

He knew me enough to nudge me towards this new chapter of my life. This (forced) career change. He knew me in a way nobody else has. It was hard to let that go.

But he wasn't planning on sticking around for any of it—why.

“Why,” I start to ask. I bite my tongue before my impulsivity gets the better of me.

“What?” Harry asks.

“Oh nothing,” I try to play it off.

“You asking something?”

“Nope,” I deny.

“Just ask don’t be shy,” Harry taunts. “Y/n isn’t shy.”

“I-“ I’m tempted but I shake my head and then realize he can’t see me. “It’s nothing.”

“If it’s nothing then say it.” He pushes. He was pushy for being so drunk.

“Why did you stop talking to me?” I ask quickly.

The line goes quiet again.

“It takes two,” he replies. “To stop.”

“But why did you stop?” I ask.

“It wasn’t enough,” he states simply like it should make sense to me. But it doesn’t.

“What?”

“I thought you didn’t want to talk to me anymore. You got cold.”

“Cold?!”

“Yes!” He shouts again.

“Too loud,” I complain.

“Sorry,” he whispers. “You got cold like…like ice. You got icy. You iced me out.”

“No I didn’t,” I deflect his accusation.

“You did! And it wasn’t enough. And I thought y/n doesn’t like me so I let you go.”

What!? I try to make sense of his drunk ramblings. It’s because I was fired from my job, I was lost and spiralling and I stopped talking. I stopped responding to his texts as much until they stopped coming altogether.

“I didn’t like you a long time ago,” I tell him. “That stopped after we talked. After you explained things.”

“Why did you stop?” He asks me instead.

“I…I was going through a rough time. I didn’t mean to but after a while I just thought it was for the better.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going through a rough time?” Harry asks with a surprising tone of clarity. “Why didn’t you let me help?”

“I didn’t want you to help.”

Maybe I did ignore Harry’s messages because I didn’t want to admit where I was. To admit that I needed his help. And I was too stubborn to admit that his connections in the industry could help me further kickstart my new career. That I could lean on him for help but it felt like cheating in an industry that liked to brag about working hard to earn where you got to. So I’d avoided him.

Jeez. I hadn’t even admitted that to myself until now. And suddenly the shame comes back tenfold. A creeping heat spreads up my neck alongside a slow squeezing of my chest as the silence stretches. I feel exposed and I want to bury myself under my blankets until the feeling passes.

“Why?” His voice breaks a little. I grit my teeth.

“I don’t know.”

“Y/n,” he says my name again and I want to cry. Because I say I don’t know but I do. And so does he. “Why are you building your walls again?”

I can’t speak, I’m so choked up with emotion and the last thing I want to do is cry over the phone to a drunk Harry. Unless this conversation sobered him up. Which is even more embarrassing.

"What do want us to be?" He asks suddenly.

"You can't ask me that," I say nervously, but the question zips through me in a frenzy.

"No you're right" he sighs noisily. "I think about you.”

"Me too," | whisper. Did he think about me when he was with all those women, I want to ask. Or was it subject to certain moments only.

"You ruined me y/n," he says it so softly I think maybe he hasn't said it at all. But he repeats it even lower and I know I didn't hear it twice.

My heart sings the same tune, and then I realize: how did I expect him to stay in touch and continue on with our lives when part of us would always be looking back at each other.

“I should go,” I try to keep my voice steady. “It’s getting late and Deanna’s coming home soon and I have to-“

“Okay,” he says but the word is laced with more. It’s okay.

“Okay.” I return. Will it be?

Silence again. The tears coating my lashes land on my cheeks and I wipe it away.

“I like hearing your voice,” Harry says.

“Me too,” I sniff.

“Goodnight y/n y/l/n.”

“Goodnight Har.”

***

I meant to text Harry after that conversation. I meant to apologize or say something—create a bridge that we can meet in the middle of. Even if it’s just as friends.

Me and him have been through a lot together, and so much on our own whilst around each other. We should be able to be friends, long-distance, pining but friends. It couldn’t be that hard.

And yet my fingers hover over his name every lunch break and bedtime. I think about him so much it becomes a permanent fixture in my brain.

And yet I never message him. Weeks go by and it stays quiet. Even from him.

On the final day on set I join some of the team for dinner and drinks. I stick to a single glass of wine and promise Damien I could drive myself home. I’d set him up with someone else on set who I noticed eyeing him with a lingering look and they had spent most of the night talking. It was sweet.

The group reminisces about the shoot and everyone pipes in about projects they were going to move onto soon. I didn’t have anything lined up right now so I listen to everyone else.

As night creeps up on us and people start to leave slowly, I text Deanna I was heading home too. After the night I spent drinking too much I’d taken to letting her know where I was and when I was heading home to make sure I stayed lucid enough on nights out. Otherwise we had agreed she would come and get me.

I step out with Damien and the girl he’s become attached to after tonight. We chat outside the place for a bit as her uber arrives and Damien points out he had driven today and parked nearby.

“I don’t know why we didn’t walk up long time ago,” I laugh and turn to Damien. “Don’t worry Damien I don’t need you to drive me home this time.”

“Uhh that’s good,” he says and motions behind me to my car with widened eyes.

“Yes,” I say with a smile. I spin around to my car and freeze.

The last person I ever expected to see leans against my passenger door, arms crossed and smiling with that smile that says I see you and I don’t care what you’re doing but I’m glad I’m here with you.

“Hi,” Harry says softly, his eyes twinkling under the street light.

“Hi?” I gape. “Wh-how-what are you…oh my god!”

His smile grows to a full grin as I throw myself at him and it’s like my mind and my whole world quiets. Like I never knew how loud everything was up until I felt the silence in his arms. Like everything would be okay because he was here.

“Oh god,” I turn back to Damien, remembering he was here too. “Sorry—I wasn’t expecting him to be here-“

“Is this Harry?” Damien asks.

I look at Harry and nod in response. Harry’s eyes flash with something as he leans forward and shakes Damien’s hand.

“I didn’t realize by Harry you meant Harry Styles uh it’s nice to meet you?” Damien’s awkwardness comes back in full force.

Harry’s eyes flicker between Damien and I and I remember that he thought there was something going on here.

“Damien and I worked together on set. Today’s actually our last day!”

“Yeah!” Damien fidgets. “It was a cool time…”

“Yeah?” Harry lights up slowly, realization dawning on him too. “Well I have to say thanks mate, for taking care of her the other night. That was you right?”

“Oh right when I picked up your call,” Damien nods. “Shit I didn’t realize who I was speaking to…” We laugh as Damien grows more awkward. “Anyway I’ll leave you two alone. G’night Y/N. Nice meeting you Harry.”

“Goodnight!” I wave him off.

I turn back to Harry with a huge grin. “You totally thought he was with me didn’t you?”

“Can you blame me?” He asks, his hand coming down on my waist, tugging me towards him. I go without hesitation.

“You’re here,” I take his face in my hands. “How? Why? When? Tell me everything.”

“I was in town,” he starts.

“Really?” I raise a brow.

He laughs, and hearing it rumble through his chest while his arms encircle me feels like a shot of espresso straight to my heart.

"Y/n," his mouth forms my name. I want to taste the way that feels again. See if that's changed too.

"You're here."

"How did you know?" I ask even though I knew it had to be Deanna.

“I have my sources,” he smiles secretly. We can’t stop smiling.

He brushes my hair to the side and it feels like a dream. He was here. He was gathering my face in his hands, hands I only dreamed of.

“I was in town,” he begins again. “Because I couldn’t stop thinking of you.”

My breath catches and I can't stop staring at him; he looks even more handsome and chiseled than the last time I saw him.

He looked like something that made my heart sing and my stomach tingle.

I trace my hand up his arm and around his shoulder. I want him to kiss me, I want to feel his arms around me.

He laughs which makes me laugh but neither of us take our eyes off of each other.

He reaches up, fingers threading through my hair. "Is this okay?"

"You're always okay," | say which makes him laugh again. What I mean to say is we're okay. Whatever you want to do is okay, as long as it's with me.

"I missed you." He whispers in my ear and it travels right to the centre of my heart.

"Prove it." I respond.

His mouth is delicate as it presses against mine, whispering soft words against them. They make me ache with a hunger I'd only ever felt around him.

When he looks at me again his eyes are more black then green but I recognize them the same. I don’t know how we’re going to make the trip back home when clearly we just want to soak each other in again.

I have an idea.

I open the backseat and Harry looks at me with a mischievous smile.

“Really?”

“You’re not getting lucky,” I roll my eyes with a smile. “But I really want to kiss you indecently and this is the closest place to do that.”

With a laugh he hustles in, tossing something in the backseat, and I follow, every inch of my body aflame. He shuts the door behind me and meets me halfway.

***

Waking up to Harry is better than catching up with him last night. Because things are so much more real when they remain the morning after. It doesn’t feel like just a dream.

“G’morning,” he mumbles when our eyes meet. He looks sleepy but content. Or maybe that’s just how I feel.

“Morning,” I smile, suddenly feeling shy. Last night was all passion and fun but the reality sets in this morning—what were we? Where were we going from here? “M’gonna brush my teeth.”

He follows me into the bathroom, luckily Deanna’s already headed off for work. He brushes with me in the small sink and we can’t stop looking at each other through the mirror. Like our eyes were magnets and they couldn’t help but find their way to the other’s.

“So did you really come all this way for me?” I ask as I brew us coffee. “Does anybody know you’re here?”

He tilts his head, “a couple people know I’m here but everyone thinks I’m just taking some time before we wrap up my album next month.”

“What!” I stop what I’m doing to give him my full attention. “You’re nearly done?”

“Yeah!” He comes closer to me, taking the coffee pot from my hand. “Final sound editing at the studio up north. So I’m s’pose to be here next month anyway but I’m just here early. For you.”

I’m afraid to ask, did that mean he was all mine for the next couple weeks of November? But the moment passes and I continue putting together a breakfast.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” I say for the millionth time.

“Me too,” he kisses the side of my neck and helps me carry our coffees to the table. “I intend to spend as much time with you as possible.”

He answers my unasked question and I feel like I’m glowing from the inside. “Yeah well I just finished on set so I’m unemployed until the next thing I’m on. So I’m all yours.”

“How’s that all going? Tell me.”

So I do. I take him through the sets I’ve been on and the people I’ve worked with. He asks great questions and I feel so deeply seen and not just because he doesn’t take his eyes off of me once.

The conversation leads to a repeat of last night and we end up spending most of the day in bed but I wasn’t complaining.

“I haven’t done this in ages,” he says with a kiss on my head. “Just stayed wrapped up in sheets all day.”

“I think the last time I did this was in London, with you.” I kiss his chin. “That feels so long ago.”

“Every day without you feels so long,” Harry says. “I shouldn’t have let it get this long.”

I shrug, “Yeah. I think I convinced myself it was good. We were fine like that. But now that I have you my god that was too long.”

He chuckles and pulls me into a deeper kiss. He tastes like sleepy familiarity and his hands grip me in places that have made a home for his fingers. I think I was in love with this man.

“What?” Harry asks. I must have paused. “You alright?”

“Yeah yeah,” I go back to kissing him but he pulls away. “No I’m fine! Promise.”

He believes me.

We spend a few days just doing nothing but everything with each other. I introduce him to Deanna and we do dinner together with Harry in a costume so he doesn’t get recognized. Deanna finds it very amusing and so do I. Harry seems tense and I worry it’s because we’re laughing at him but he reassures me it’s not.

I know it wasn’t going to last forever, Harry had a busy life to get back to, but I savour the slow moment we have all to ourselves.

Near the end of the week, while I’m driving us out to a hiking spot Harry brings up something on his mind.

“Can I say something, and you can’t get mad?”

“Well I can’t guarantee that.”

“Try not to?” He asks.

“Maybe.” I can’t promise him that.

“Fine I’ll settle with maybe,” he jokes.

“So are you going to tell me?” I eye him as I pull into the parking lot. He had gone silent.

“Yes, I’m getting to that.” He bites his lip. “Don’t take this the wrong way but you seem a bit distant. Not from me just…from yourself.”

“I seem distant from myself?” I laugh.

“Yeah,” he fidgets with his belt and we exit the car. “Like the y/n I know is only 70% there.”

“What?!”

“No see now don’t go getting mad love,” he says and his pet name only softens the moment slightly. “I just wonder if you’re really alright.”

“Of course I am,” I bristle.

“You always have this fire about you but right now-.”

“Jeez Har, if you’re comparing me to before in London I was more high strung than usual, constantly stressed and having personal issues with my ex. And you were making my life hell. Why are you comparing me to her?”

“No I know!” Harry tries to hold my arm but I brush him off and speed away down the trail. But his stupid long legs catch up easily. “This isn’t coming out how I meant to. But even when we were together last spring. You were still you. You just seem a little sad?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I pull away from him more. “You can’t go MIA for months then pop back into my life and tell me I’ve changed like it’s a bad thing.”

“Y/n you’re purposely not understanding me here,” Harry starts to grow frustrated beside me and it makes me less frustrated sharing the emotion. Like I said—I was very healthy. “I’m not saying you’ve changed. Or that changing is a bad thing! I think you’re a lot more confident and stronger than ever before. I’m just saying your light’s been a bit dimmer in the time I’ve been with you and I’m worried you’re going through something you’re not sharing.”

“Oh my god,” I feel tears prick my eyes and I blink them away before stuffing my glasses onto my face. “My light’s been dimmer? Seriously? I’m fine. I’m okay Harry. You don’t have to worry-“

“But I want to-“

“Well you don’t. And it’s a little late to try and pry me open and dissect what you think is wrong with me.”

“Well I’ve already pried you open it’s the dissecting part that—ow!”

I’ve hit him with my bottle and he shuts up. He was so not funny.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “But I’m here if you want to talk.”

Too little too late, I think bitterly. And the strength of the bitterness surprises me. I stay quiet, not wanting to spew anything I’ll regret later. He trails behind, giving me the space I need.

Apparently I was bitter about our time apart. But I know that wasn’t entirely his fault—I’d admitted to pushing him away because I’d been too embarrassed. Too stubborn to accept I could use his help. So what was it?

I didn’t think I was any less myself than I was a year ago. But as soon as I think it I know it’s untrue.

I sigh and let the sunlight filtering through the coastal oaks and shrubbery warm my skin. Harry continued a steady pace behind me and I feel slightly sorry for getting so defensive.

I continue one step at a time on the worn path walked by so many. I’d done this several times with friends and it was supposed to be special doing it with Harry but I’ve just ruined it.

I ruined it.

If I was any lesser than in my personality, like Harry said, it was probably because I ruined things. And I was upset with myself. I feel like I let Harry go, that I failed at the career I thought I was going to spend a lifetime. I ruined the thing between Harry and I with pride, by pushing him away! And life’s beaten me down with it.

I haven’t been being very honest with myself. Because the truth did hurt. And I’ve been a wimp.

I glance back at Harry but his head his down, his head of curls bouncing at the effort of the uphill slope. My heart floods with warmth just looking at him and I can’t believe I’ve been an idiot.

“Harry,” I stop in the middle of the trail and he nearly bumps into me. He steadies himself on my shoulder and I grasp his hand there before he can remove it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be a bitch back there.”

“It’s alright.” He squeezes my shoulder, but his eyes are still wary. “I shouldn’t have been so insensitive. I do that sometimes.”

“No,” I rush to answer. “No you have a point. And I don’t expect you to ever stop calling me out-“

“Likewise,” he gives me a small smile that feels like relief.

“You’re right. I just don’t think I’ve sat long enough to accept it.”

His finger brushes my cheek, wiping the fallen tear. I was not supposed to cry!

“Let’s keep going,” he suggests and I’m grateful for that.

“I think,” I sniffle as my body strains to finish the final stretch of our hike. “I feel like I should be happy and grateful for where I am now. I’m actually really passionate about this new work I’ve been taking on! But a part of me feels like I’m going through the motions. And that makes me feel so shitty.”

My life in London had crashed and burned but it had felt full. Out here I was so spread apart from everyone, I no longer worked at a steady job, and the only person I had was Deanna. Sometimes I think I relied on her too much.

“I think you expect too much of yourself,” Harry puts his hand around my shoulder as we near the end and even though I’m sweaty and it’s kind of gross I let him. “I know how that goes.”

“Yeah maybe,” I brush away another tear. “I just don’t feel very present. I’m either living in the future or living in the past.”

Harry’s face twists into what I can only describe as a knowing grimace.

“Well we made it,” I gesture to the open water below us. We stand for a little while, breathing it in. It reminds me of the first music video set I’d been on with him. When we were getting along and he had seen my enthusiasm for that sort of thing.

“I’ve been living in the past a lot.” Harry admits. “More than usual.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Y/n,” he says and I turn to look at him. Right, I flush. Me.

“What the fuck did we do to each other?” I ask and we laugh. And then laugh some more, releasing a tension neither of us realized we were carrying.

We end up sitting in the ground catching our breaths again. He pulls me into his chest and kisses the top of my head.

“I don’t know how we keep screwing up.”

“It should be a record,” I laugh. “We really don’t know how to deal with each other.”

“Fucking hell,” he laughs.

“What do we do?” I look up into his eyes that are deeper than the forest we hiked through. They’re so full of love that I could drown in them willingly.

“Firstly I should tell you something, long overdue.” He says. He kisses me with a sweetness before telling me, “I’m madly in love with you. I never thought I could feel this way about someone.”

“Well I don’t know how that someone could be me,” I joke but mostly to cover up just how hard his words hit.

“You wound up in my life when I was at my worst-“

“And taken you even lower,” I joke again.

“No.” He brushes my cheek. “No, that was my own doing. You made me believe I could be better. That I should be better, that I shouldn’t be defined by past mistakes. I love you y/n.”

Woah. I wasn’t expecting that.

I scramble to sit up and face him. “Seriously?”

“So serious.”

“Harry,” I hold his face in my hands. It was true, something I barely admitted to myself but as I roll the words through my head it feels true.

“Don’t feel pressured to-“

“I love you too Harry. God. I love you. That felt good to say.”

He laughs and pulls me to him, and even though we’re smiling too hard to actually get a proper kiss in it’s one of the most romantic moments of my life.

“I don’t think this is going to solve our issues,” he says once we’ve dusted ourselves off and prepare to say goodbye to the view. “But I want to try to stay connected.”

“You’ve told me you love me there’s no getting rid of me now.” I warn him.

“I was scared,” he confesses. “I never told you I wanted you to stay. That I wanted you so fucking badly because I was scared you would get so overwhelmed by my life, how much is in the public eye and all of that. I don’t want to subject you to that-“

“We’ve already been papped together remember?” I raise a brow. He blushes as the memory surfaces.

“The night I acted like a complete arse yeah thanks for reminding me.”

“Look at you blushing,” I pat his cheek. He brushes me off. “But I know what I’m getting myself into Harry. I’ve worked for you! I know how public your life is. And we can figure it out.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!” I reassure him.

“Does that mean…?”

“What are you asking Mr. Styles?”

“Please don’t call me that again,” he groans. “I don’t want to be Mr. Styles to you anymore.”

“No?”

“Only if you’d be Mrs. Styles.”

Now it’s my turn to flush. He laughs at me the same way I did him.

“Harry I barely know what I’m doing with my life. But I do know I love you, and I want to be with you. So I’ll figure the life stuff out as long as I get to have you.”

“That’s very romantic.” He teases.

“I know,” I smile.

“Good. I’d give up the life I have now if it means getting to have you Y/N.”

“Romantic enough,” I tease.

“Remember when we realized we had been at the same Coldplay concert and-“

“Not this again,” I groan. “I’m not bloody asking you to give up your fame and money to start a family.”

“I know I know!” He laughs. “But I just want to tell you that you could. I wouldn’t mind.”

I fan myself, “It’s getting too romantic. Let’s get out of here.”

And that’s the note on which we make our way back down to our car, completely different how we made our way up. It sets the tone for the remainder of his time here.

8 months later:

“G’morning!” I wave to the front desk and walk to the elevator that would take me up to the apartment I called home now. It was spring in the city I’ve grown to love again.

“Is that you?” Harry’s voice calls out when I walk to the kitchen.

“Yes! And I have coffee!” I shout back. I couldn’t sleep last night—first day jitters that I always got when working on a new set.

“Bollocks!” Harry’s voice sounds closer. “I was supposed to do that for you for first day on set.”

“Too bad,” I push the coffee towards him on the island but he ignores it to come to me instead.

“Is it?” He arches a brow. His hands are already running up my sides and my breathing grows shallow. He never failed to pull this reaction from me. Even when we “hated” each other.

I can’t take the teasing so I lean up to press my mouth to his and the coffee is forgotten as he lifts me up on the island and trails his lips down my body. I didn’t need caffeine when I had this.

No. Wait. I had a job to get to.

“Harry,” I try to grab his face back up. “Harry, love, I can’t-fuck.”

“Sorry,” he smiles up at me sheepishly and if I could take a shot of that face it would seriously sustain me for the rest if my life.

“I can’t.” I pout.

“I know. Sorry I got carried away.”

“Drink your coffee,” I steal one last kiss. “Now I feel like I need a cold shower.”

His laugh echoes through the room. “I said I was sorry!”

He dramatically moves to the opposite end of the island and sits down, holding the coffee up to his face. “Mmmm.”

I smile at the man who had my soul and heart. I was so glad I’d made the plunge to move back to where he was.

After Harry left the States when he finished his album we had tried our best at long-distance. I was afraid to uproot my life to London again and he was willing to move out to San Francisco but I didn’t want him to. I knew his life was in London.

We tried going back and forth for a couple months. I’d invited him back home to Burbank during one of those trips and everyone had hit it off. It almost felt like the missing piece I was looking for to take the plunge. To decide once and for all I was moving away again.

The last time I moved I was running away from everything I knew because I thought it would gain me independence and a life I craved. But ultimately I came crawling back home.

This time I take the leap running to something.

I miss being closer to family, and living with my best friend. I beg Deanna to visit every time we catch up but recently she’s told me she’s moving in with the guy she’s been dating and it makes me feel less bad about leaving her behind again.

Harry decided to move his work life out of the flat to give me privacy, now his team worked out of a small office in central and sometimes I popped by when he was there. We tried to keep ourselves out of the limelight, and so far things had stayed private.

“I’m going to pick you up tonight,” Harry reminds me. “Are you sure I can’t give you a lift there too?”

“No I want to take the train,” I insist. I needed my first day to be independently mine.

We chit chat as we finish breakfast and then I’m out the door again towards my first day. It’s a cool morning but the sun climbs into the sky and I know it was only going to get warmer.

I had promised the city that I’d be back one day and this was it. I had laid down roots once before and I was back to try once more; my heart was open enough to embrace it, healed enough to love it again.

I was embracing life again and it felt like my glow was back.

Jeff keeps asking if you’re showing up to the album launch, Harry texts.

Obviously, does Jeff not want me there? I text—it was a running joke between us ever since we came out to Jeff that he hated us together. His reaction had been surprise and then resignation. He was tight-lipped about us any time he saw us together.

He’d rather you throw the party.

I didn’t miss that part of the job. Now when I look back at my old career I’m not sure how I did it for years. It was a stress I didn’t want back.

He’d have to pay me a million dollars, I text back.

I’ll let him know your new rates

I get to the tube and sit down. As I lose service I get one last text from Harry.

I love you. Break a leg

And then: but don’t get concussed or anything

I roll my eyes but the smile stays on my face. To be loved is to be known but to be loved is also to have someone else know all of your stupid moments and know you won’t ever live them down.

I send back a heart and an eye-roll emoji.

The tradeoff was worth it…most of the time.

#writingsfromhome #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #fic #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #musician!harry #harry stylesxreader #enemies to lovers #dos and dont’s #epilogue #please know I reviewed this piece only like once so take it for what it is #and yeah

[loverofstufflof]

Airing out my LMK trailer/S5 thoughts cause u gotta do this somehow

Most glaring, animation. It’s not bad, by any means. I’d certainly be proud of myself if I were able to come up with it.

However, I think it’s important to consider the context of the show’s style, and how it’s been improving significantly over instalments. Also, it’s Flying Bark. Flying Bark is just gonna make banger animation.

Am I a bit disappointed when comparing it to Emperor’s Wrath? Yeah. Especially when we’ve been waiting a full year for this—twice as long as usual.

But I’m not saying I won’t be watching the show because of it. I still love this story. Fuck, my favourite series is Epithet Erased. The show that’s best described as JPEGs wiggling around your screen for 2 hours. I can handle less than expected animation if it’s made up for by good writing.

I’ve been seeing a lot of people attacking invisible fans that claim they’re going to boycott the show because of this. Respectfully, source? The most aggressive criticism I’ve seen is “man that’s disappointing ig, still excited tho”. Who are you guys even fighting lmao. (Unless this is something happening on other platforms and you’re just venting on here which, valid)

Nevertheless, as I’ve said before, it’s not bad animation, just not up to the standard we’re used to. People are allowed to be disappointed. Let them be. This show isn’t flawless.

It’s looking to be real, all things considered. We’ve never gotten a fan leak this elaborate before, and it contains a lot of elements that were just recently revealed. Unless they’ve been getting announcements much earlier than we have (considering this fanbase’s sleuth skills, I’d doubt it) then there’s no other explanation other than it being official.

Official, however, doesn’t mean it’s guaranteed to look that way the whole time. The animation is being done by another studio, yes, but only partially. Flying Bark is still here for the fun. This other studio also isn’t incompetent, they’re behind things like Carmen Sandiego. They know what they’re doing.

They’re also primarily handling additional material, means promotions, meaning trailers. Listen, it’s a bit of a stretch considering the fact that all trailers so far have been taken directly from the show, but also it’s industry standard to make a trailer before you’re even done, meaning you gotta cut some corners for the scenes you’re showing until you polish them up in post.

We know LEGO has a habit of keeping LMK things in their vault until they need to, this may be something they had lying around from early prod and released to maintain hype.

Any which way, this development is very much temporary, only applying because the team is currently working on a movie and need to momentarily lessen their workload. Even if the odds are against us and S5 looks like a PowerPoint presentation, it’ll likely go back to normal later.

Biiig animation rant aside, I am a tad bit sad about the direction the story is going in (namely the abandonment of Red Son) and the fan service is a bit much, but honestly what else are we expecting from JTTW fanfic.

I’m stoked to see more Macaque though—he’s looking to be becoming a proper protagonist, which is great for angst! Yippee!

One thing I haven’t seen anyone talk about is the complete lack of Nüwa. You know, the character they’ve been teasing this whole time? Where is she? Not in the trailer. Not in the posters.

Makes me wondering if this is a part of the new season, teasing the next one, the one Nüwa’s in, later.

#not rereading this for grammar or whatever my phones about to die and I need to post this #get my thoughts out somehow #WAAAA #hope I come across as nonconfrontational here I genuinely just wanna talk #monkie kid #lego monkie kid #lmk #lmk s5 #post!

[reorientation]

Hi there, it’s the “Ten Year Itch” anon here!

I know it’s been a little bit but just wanted to provide an update. 😊 So in my last submissions I’d talked about a man who wasn’t local to me, that didn’t end up working out (but that’s okay)!

I know things to on this blog tend to be more on the “not soft” (I’m not sure the best way to put it) so my update may not be a thing most folks are into, which I am sorry for.

I ended up giving in to the thoughts I’ve been having and as a result, I met a man locally and decided to try going on a few dates with him. He’s a total gentleman and very respectful, which I know may be a turn off for some folks but for me has been shamefully arousing. I’ve never been treated so well by anyone, even by women. Needless to say, we decided to become an exclusive couple. 💕

Introducing him as my boyfriend has been a both nerve racking and exciting experience. The looks on people’s faces when I tell them I’m dating is usually surprise and followed by them congratulating. I even formally introduced him to my parents.

We haven’t had sex yet and he knows I’ve never been with a man. He’s been patient and wants to make it a pleasurable, safe experience which I really appreciate (boring, I know). He tells me often how hot he finds it that I haven’t been with a man, and that I’m basically a virgin. He says he can’t wait to be my first and only. We’ve made out plenty, and that usually turns into humping. Every time we get that far I get so wet, he’s even been able to feel how wet I’ve gotten through pants.

Most recently we masturbated together and it was such a lovely experience. It was the first time I’ve seen a man cum in person, and it was so nice to orgasm while laying my head on his chest. I look forward to our first time together and will probably send an update when it happens!

Thanks for taking the time to read this, I know it’s not like the usual content on your blog. Thank you for giving me the courage to give in to my natural desires and accept my role. 💕🌸

(Previously)

Aww, sweetheart! I don't know why you thought I would be disappointed - not every girl needs to get raped into submission, as long as she submits. ❤️

In fact, in some ways, it's sweeter like this. Ten years with a gold star, "resisting as hard as I can, trying to remind myself I’m a lesbian and hate cock"... and then the right man comes along and all of that just naturally falls away.

Some girls have to be forced, you know. Some girls struggle and scream as they lose their gold stars. But you just went around introducing everyone to the man who's going to push his cock into you.

What do you think that tells everyone, when a lifelong lesbian blushingly introduces her new boyfriend? Is it going to help anyone believe that "lesbianism" is real, and not just a phase some girls go through? And when you tell "other lesbians", do you think you're the only one getting wet?

I'm proud of you, sweetie, and so glad I could help. You're going to be such a good example for other girls.

(And do come back and tell us when he lets you trade in your gold star in exchange for being an obedient whore for him.)

#kink interactions #reorientation writing #reor: anon ask #lgetsd #reor: anon life story #reor: ten year itch anon

[velvetwastaken]

Afterdeath - A Ganqing Fanfic

Author’s Debrief

First off, I feel sooooo pretentious writing this, LOL. But I figure people who don’t care won’t read it, and if they do care, I can only hope they’ll find it mildly interesting.

And so, without further ado, let’s take a peak behind the curtain of this fic!

I first started writing this all the way back in May of 2022. And in the beginning it was very much a way for me to express my own feelings of grief. If Ganyu’s pain in the early chapters felt real, it’s because it is. It’s how I felt, how I sometimes still feel, and how I observed others around me feeling and behaving. The difference is that in Afterdeath, Ganyu gets to do what we in reality cannot. She got to right the wrong in a sense, she got to quench the burning feelings of injustice that so often come hand-in-hand with sudden and unexpected loss.

And that’s part of the beauty of fiction, isn’t it? Sometimes it allows for unreality to feel just a tiny bit real, if only for a while.

I’ve gathered that writing like this might be some kind of psychotherapy? Maybe that’s true. I wouldn’t say that writing this fic helped me overcome my grief. I don’t think grief works like that. It’s part of me now. It always will be. But I think it did help me compartmentalize it, to put it in a space and into words that I can more comfortably handle. So that’s something.

But whatever this fic started out as, it quickly grew to be more than that. And part of that is why I made the choice to post as Anon. I think most people know my writing because of Reversal. And Afterdeath is a whole other beast. Reversal is great, I love it to bits, but it got far more attention that I ever dreamed it would, and I ended up putting a lot of pressure on myself not to disappoint people. And if they were to open Afterdeath expecting more Reversal, they would be VERY disappointed, lol.

But I learned something during this whole writing and posting process: I do not care. Or rather, I am learning to not care. I will write the things I enjoy writing and the things I would want to read myself. Others can read it or not, and that’s okay. I am still happy to share my writing, even if I end up the only one entertained by it. It’ll still be enough.

This fic also has a lot of firsts for me. I have never written something this long. Or with this rating, LMAO! And, if I’m honest, as challenging as it was at times, it was fun to push myself and see what’s possible. I will not claim it’s prefect, or even anywhere close, but It has been something of a confidence booster. And as silly as it feels, I am prodigiously proud of myself for writing—and finishing—this fic. And yes, I fully intend to typeset and bind it for myself because I am that just self indulgent LOL!

I also want to thank everyone who followed along, reading and commenting as I worked on this over the last year. A few people guessed it was me posting very early on, and their support has been instrumental. So THANK YOU! I couldn’t have done it without you.

I am always happy to talk about my fics, or ganqing in general, so if anyone has questions or whatever about anything, my inbox is open.

But now, it’s time to work on some of my other WIPs! Wish me luck lol.

— Velvetwastaken

#my stuff #fanfiction meta #author's note #don't mind me lol

[beautifulhigh]

Spectrum Event: Lonestar Proud

Fuck it, I’m getting my thoughts down now while I remember them because today was the kind of day you don’t want to forget a beat of. I’ve got a LOT of photos to sift through but you can have some highlights here.

When Tony was doing his intro you could just about see Ronen peeking around the doorframe, waiting for the intro, and he was straight into the room as soon as he could. Rafa then strolled out, cool as anything. We had autographs first and I got to talk about coming out for this, the 26 hour travel, what day/time is it? Rafa was touched I came all the way out there for them but I assured him it was very much worth it.

I was behind Emma in the line for Ronen and I bounced off her comment about her ‘short’ trip up to Burbank for this - “You’re going from one end to the other” and he said he could hear it already in my voice. Ah, the joys of a British accent! He thanked me for making the trek out (and checked how to spell trek) and I got my first hug from him. He’s so soft and gentle with his hugs but not in a “I wanna get out of this” kinda way. Like a “you get to stay here and you’re safe” kinda way.

Once everyone was done it was the photo line next - bit of miscommunication to start off with! Those who paid at Sponsorship level got individual photos with the boys: while Rafa was doing his Ronen came and sat with us, chatted about shoes and sports and made a mess with the muffin he was eating. It was pointed out that the dogs weren’t here to clean up after him - he said he had thought about bringing the girls but it would have been a lot for them.

When Ronen was doing his one-on-ones Rafa did not come over but we had a nice view so no complaints! At one point Rafa jumped in and they did some pair shots which Brad turned into the gifs and videos that are already out there:

During my photos Ronen tried to do an English accent. He said ‘ello Gov’nor a couple of times in the most horrific version of a Cockney accent I’ve ever heard attempted! My response was “no, just... no” but it was hilarious.

After photos was lunch, then the panel - which you can read about here - which was about representation and people finding their places. Rafa made the comment about people “finding [their] throne” and taking their place on it because we are here for a reason and to be the people we are. There’s real thought and consideration that goes into everything that comes out of his mouth and it shows. He picks his words carefully and he makes sure that the point he wants to make is the point he’s making.

(I love this photo so much. Ronen’s laughter. Rafa’s lil’ blep.)

After the panel was the M&G. We had smaller groups for this and I was in the first one: we got to talk about S4 so far, how they feel it’s the best one yet and how they’re just getting started in terms of what we’ve seen. They wouldn’t let anything slip - no matter how much we tried. Ronen asked Rafa, “What wedding are they talking about?” to which Rafa replied, “I don’t even know why they’re here.” The way they play off each other is brilliant - you know they care about each other and it’s lovely to see the off-screen friendship which builds into the on-screen relationship.

Which, Ronen did say, is endgame. He promised that no matter what happens they will always come together in the end. “Anyone else? Couldn’t tell you. But us? We’re good.”

There was talk about rep and being seen - but I got to tell them how much it means to me when they use the full initialism. As an Ace person I don’t get to see myself on screen (yet), but I get to hear myself mentioned, to be talked about makes me feel seen and acknowledged and that means a lot. 

We got to do personal selfies as we left the room and Ronen ended up being the photographer for everyone - Rafa pointing out he’s very good at them. And yes, yes he is.

More hugs

I got to share this day and these moments with my Diet Coke girl, my muse, my darling @bubblesandroses8​ and there is no one else I’d rather flail with, do this with, and ask “and what’s that in English?” when you give me a temperature in Farenheit...

#jen goes to la #spectrum events #lonestar proud #Ronen Rubinstein #Rafael Silva #911 lone star cast #911ls cast #you sirs are my sirens #bubblesandroses8 #emma might be my muse in human form

[eliashirsch]

I thought it’d be interesting to look back on how much my writing has improved in a year!

Top Gun is the only fandom I’ve ever fallen into a rabbit hole deep enough to want to write any serious fanfiction for. It’s actually why I approach my writing today in a ‘professional’ manner (actually revising and doing line edits etc) and for the first time in my life, I’m considering it as a viable career. So it’s safe to say Top Gun has changed my life in ways I never would’ve expected it. 

I knew of Top Gun from watching Maverick and was so impressed I decided to immediately go to Ao3 because I knew there were going to be some fics about Mav and Rooster (I remembered the exact moment I got home and opened my phone and was delighted to know I was right). Back then the tag wasn’t even official yet. It’s great to see it grow over a year! (I’m still refreshing the Top Gun Movies tag for any new fics. Does anyone do that still?)

So here’s the fic that I decided to write on a random day in June 2022, featuring Mav and the Dagger Squad after the mission, and Ice being exasperated over their antics. It’s a little silly, definitely in a time when team as family fics were popular. I actually wrote about 45k in two months, which was fast for me back then!

I think a canon event for a beginner fanfic writer is when a character ends up in the hospital, there’s a scene where their injuries are described in detail (which as a reader, I usually skim those). I think it’s to create a ‘realistic’ setting, but really, there are better ways to describe said character’s injuries. 

Looking back, there are a lot of scenes that feel very unnatural. Real people don’t really talk this way, it feels very like, cartoonish for them to reveal information this way. Again, just very fanfic-y. Not really good writing.

But I had a lot of fun writing these! The Daggers don’t exactly act like adults or have nuances and stuff. They’re mostly there for humor (or more like injecting my humor, which is kinda cringey when I read these back) but hey, at least I can look at these with nostalgia the same way a burnt-out artist looks back at their childhood drawing and remember the good times when life and pressure didn’t get in the way of creating.

Compare these with my more recent writings. I don’t know I just look at this and I’m proud of how far I’ve come. How better I am at pacing and characterization and making believable scenes and everything. It’s just asdkasjfhankakljk so proud of myself. (Excerpt from my fic.)

Another comparison, this one’s a first draft rather than a finished work. So it’s not super polished, but still infinitely better than how I started. I mean, you can even see the difference in format. I started out writing with Arial and a white background, and now I can't stand writing in anything other than a dark bg. Also, Calibri is the best font idc what anyone says.

That’s it! Thanks for reading to the end! A reminder that the more you practice and hone your work, you are going to improve! It’s possible, just keep going!

#icemav #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #iceman x maverick #top gun #writing #i had so much fun writing the daggers playing uno

[turquoisemagpie]

Welp, another year gone. And honestly, I’m hesitant to even think “Hope this new year is better than the last!” considering how well that’s gone for the last half a decade or so. But as harsh as this passing year has been, I have to say personally it’s been pretty good!

One certain highlight is being part of project IRIS. I was already on the project a couple year earlier, but this year’s big public curtain-reveal that I am working with the wonderful Jacksepticeye kinda made it all very real. I highly appreciate all the support, I’m highly enjoying helping to bring highly treasured characters and deeper worlds to life, and I’m proud of Sean and Robin and Trey and everyone involved on this project with what has been shown so far and what’s on the horizon. I found that one of the best things to come from this is reconnecting the community; welcoming new fans with amazing talents, and community veterans returning back to the warmth of the good ol’ days. It feels good. I’m eagerly looking forward to the future.

Another highlight I’ll forever treasure was the practically road trip to the North with 3 close friends, two of which I’d not met in person until then. Stuck in the heaviest rain of Durham, stranded happily on the sunny Lindisfarne Island, screaming songs as we passed the Anglo-Scottish boarder, talking into the night of everything and nothing. How wonderful to find the greatest treasures in the smallest of moments. I’m proud of my friends, both old and new; the college first-timers, the live-streamers, the memers, the artists, the storytellers, & the wisest people I have the pleasure to know. I hold you guys and the memories close to me hopefully we’ll find another time in the near future to do more.

I’ve found my art and my mental health have a close connection and I’m happy to see that definitely looking after myself more this year has helped me branch out more in my art. I experimented a lot, I drew a lot more confident OG works than fan art, I even managed to complete a comic book project: a hopeful sign for what I could do in the future! I’m petty proud of where my art has gone this year and I’m eager to keep it going into next year. Outside of drawing I got a lot more into reading and writing, something I’m definitely going to continue for years to come.

Obviously the year came with its sour moments. I had a couple family deaths, family illnesses, my own illnesses, and the world has had the four horsemen of the apocalypse doing the yearly rounds (plus whatever the hell social media is doing) which has been a bummer at the very least. But we got out to the other side and at this point that’s all that matters. We can keep going.

So yeah, 2022: your bright sides will be treasured & your catastrophes can rot in hell.

✨Onwards to 2023 and all that has to offer. ✨

#magpie sketches #happy new year #jse community #artists on tumblr

[jowrites]

When the Dahlia sings Her Song - 12. The talk.

TW: Mentions of death, physical abuse, mental illness, depression, anxiety, parental death, verbal abuse, mute disorder, mentions of sex, some smut(in future), cursing

THIS CHAPTER MENTIONS SEX AND MORE SEX MDNR!

Strangers to Lovers. Lee Heeseung x F!OC(I like giving names).

Masterlist Here. Prev. Next. Jo's Masterlist Here.

taglist: @enhabooks

Time was going by fast now, when Heeseung had something he wanted to live for. Just a month ago he was a numb robotic chaebol, with no thoughts for himself other than what he was told to do and who he was told to be. Now, he was bold. He really started growing into himself more, started speaking up on things he didn’t agree on shocking everyone in his path. He lost interest in almost every company matter and always just couldn’t wait to get out of that place to go running to her. 

Jay would still come with him, taking quite a liking to Gyuri and going to bother the girl. Heeseung would see hickeys on each of their necks and he knew they weren’t fooling anyone with their aloofness and bickering. Deep down he was a little jealous of his friend for being able to be as intimate with someone he liked, Heeseung was very patient with Kai and wouldn’t even bring it up. They would have heated makeout sessions and he would have to pull himself away before going too far where he wouldn’t be able to stop. She had this very intense effect on him, one he could only describe as real, raw love. Or so he hoped.

He hired a private tutor as well, and started learning sign language. He took pride in being a fast learner and Kai’s heart just about melted when he told her how he was learning for her. For someone who grew up without parental figures caring and loving him, he surprised her every day with how much care and attention he showed her. It’s like he was craving this all his life, holding it all in and waiting for it to happen. Together, their love was blossoming like the biggest and brightest Peony she could ever think of. Their Spring had come.

************

Heeseung always stayed with her during the weekends, Friday’s became his favorite days of the week because it meant he could go to her and not leave. He would go after work almost every single day and have dinner with them all, sometimes he even cut his days short to have more time, but Friday’s were really the jackpot of it all. The two were cuddled up on her bed, Heeseung playing with her fingers. Just how her small hands fit so perfectly in his larger ones was beyond his understanding, so he just liked to say she was made specifically for him. 

“The transition is coming up soon. I don’t think I’m going to do it.”

Kai gasped, sitting up suddenly and looking at him. She signed to him, "Why?’”

“I don’t want it, I never wanted it. The more I think about what it is I want to actually do with my life, for myself…the company isn’t in that picture.”

She took her pad from the side table and began to write.

Have you told your father?

“He has no idea. I actually don’t even care anymore, he can scream at me, hit me all he wants but I still will never change my mind. I want to leave the family, if you can even call it a family.”

What about your brother?

“I think I’ll tell Beomgyu first, actually. He should know, I don’t really have anything against him and I think I should have a talk with him. It’s been like a month since I’ve actually really talked to him.”

Would he take over?

“I don’t think so, I want VP Park to take over, Jay’s father. He’s a good solid man who would run the company really well.”

I’m proud of you.

“Why?”

For choosing yourself for once.

“I’m not just choosing me, I’m choosing you. When I look at what it is I want, what my future looks like…it’s all you.”

Kai giggled and tackled him in an embrace, wrapping herself around him and giving his face kisses all over. He held her back, taking his free hand and cupping her cheek to look at him as she sat on his lap. He brought their lips together, giving her multiple kisses on her lips over and over again, making her giggle.

“Hey, guys-OH MY GOD! MY EYES! PLEASE DON’T DEFILE MY SISTER WHILE I’M HERE!” Jake walked into the room, covering his eyes just as quickly. Kai quickly took something from the bedside table and threw it at him.

“We’re just kissing,” Heeseung rolled his eyes. “And trust me, the door would be locked when I do that to her.”

Kai’s eyes went wide and she slapped Heeseung’s chest, blushing just as much.

“Oh god, not my business! Wrap it before you tap it! Anyways, we’re going shopping, where’s the list?” Jake asked.

Kai signed to him telling him where it was and he gave a thumbs up, walking out saying his goodbyes and mumbling things to himself. He closed the door behind him and Kai collapsed on Heeseung’s chest, hiding her face away.

“Hey, no need to be embarrassed, sweetheart, he’s gone,” Heeseung said, lifting her face to look back at him and she was laughing. She was actually laughing. The first time he heard her laugh he was so excited, hearing just one noise from her was everything to him. Soon he would hear little noises from her, from giggles to grunts. She was absolutely perfect in every way.

That was funny.

“Who knew you could be such a pervert.”

Just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean I don’t laugh at that stuff, or have needs.

“Hey, I didn’t say anything. Have needs?”

Yeah, like…sexy things.

“I would never pressure you to do anything of the sort, you know that right?”

I know, I appreciate it a lot. I’m a virgin and I can’t say I haven’t thought about us doing that.

“I have thought about it more than you probably, I hold myself back everytime you kiss me.”

You do? Why didn’t you say anything?

“Baby, I’m not going to do that, It doesn’t matter. It’s really not all I think of.”

It matters to me, I want you to tell me too so I can do things for you too.

“You already do enough for me, sweetheart. Your existence alone is everything to me.”

I want to, I’ve been wanting to…I thought you didn’t see me like that with every time you always pulled away when things got heated.

“Oh my God, no not at all! I pulled away for self control, love. Please never think it’s because I don’t want you, I want you in so many ways it hurts. I pull away because I need to control myself, if I didn’t I don’t think I’d be able to pull away at all.”

Kai blushed, feeling a wave of confidence hit her. The others weren’t going to be home for a while and she has wanted to take their relationship to the next level for a while. She has had long talks with Gyuri about what to do and how she could please a man to her best abilities, and she really wanted to prove her love to Heeseung in the next way. She sat up straight, grabbing his face in her hands and crashing her lips on his in a feverish kiss. Heeseung wasn’t going to pull away this time.

#kpop multistan #enhypen scenarios #enhypen #kpop writers #kpop fanfic #lee heeseung #heesung enhypen

[abbygrabska]

The Sound of Drums

The Doctor stares at the screen showing Saxon walking down with an entourage, “Abby?” The woman at his side is indeed Abby.

“I said I knew that voice. When he spoke inside the Tardis. I’ve heard that voice hundreds of times. I’ve seen him. We all have. That was the voice of Harold Saxon.”

“That’s him. He’s Prime Minister.”

“Mr. Saxon, this way, sir. Come on, kiss for the lady, sir.”

“The Master is the Prime Minister of Great Britain.” The Doctor watches, heartbroken as Saxon kisses Abby, “The Master and his wife.”

“This country has been sick. This country needs healing. This country needs medicine. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that, what this country really needs, right now… is a doctor.” 

I walk beside Harry, my lovely husband through the hall.

Clerks hand him files as we pass. We stop outside the door to the Cabinet Room.

“I’m so proud of you, Harry.” I kiss him softly.

“Bless.”

“Uh, sir…” We both turn to face a black woman. Her face seems confused as she keeps glancing at me.

“If you don’t mind me asking… I’m sorry, but it’s all a bit new. What exactly do you want me to do?” She asks.

“Oh yes, what was it, uh…?” “Tish. Letitia Jones.” She glances at me.

“Tish. well then, Tish… You just stand there and look gorgeous.” Harry enters the cabinet room.

“What happened?” Tish asks.

“What do you mean?” I furrow my brows in confusion.

“You and Martha? I thought you were dating?” She asks.

“I’m sorry.” I let out a small laugh, “I don’t know who that is.” “My sister. You and she went to Lazarus Laboratories with your friend, the Doctor? I think. That’s where we met.”

I purse my lips, “I’ve never met you before today. I can’t say I have a clue what you’re talking about.”

I sit in a room alone, embroidering a piece of fabric, the door opens. “Mrs. Saxon, Vivien Rook, Sunday Mirror.” A woman holds up a press card, “You’ve heard of me.” “Oh, can’t I just have an hour to myself?” I ask rhetorically. “Oh, strike while the iron’s hot, that’s what I say, Abby. I can call you Abby, can’t I? Now, everyone’s talking about Harold Saxon, but I thought, ‘What about the wife?’ All I need is twenty minutes.” “Oh, I think maybe we should wait.” I glance to the connecting door. “The headline’s waiting to print: The Power Behind the Throne.”

“Really?” I ask.

“Britain’s First Lady.” “Gosh.” “Front page.” “Oh, well, I suppose…” I continue with my embroidery, “Go on then. Twenty minutes.” “Excellent! Thank you! Oh, oh, what was it? Oh, Tish. Now you can leave us alone.” Vivien hands Tish her coat. “No, but I’m supposed to sit in.” Tish tries to protest, looking to me.

“No, no. It’s… it’s only a profile piece. You know, hair and clothes and nonsense. There’s a good girl. Out you go. That’s it.” She pushes Tish out the door and closes it, “Mrs. Saxon, I have reason to believe… that you’re in very great danger. All of us, in fact. Not just the country, but the whole world.”

I look up from my work, “What are you talking about?” “Your husband is not who he says he is. I’m sorry, but it’s a lie. Everything’s a lie. All of it. The school days, his degree, and even his mother and father. It’s all invented.” She holds up a photo, “Look, Harold Saxon never went to Cambridge. There was no Harold Saxon. The thing is, it’s obvious. The forgery is screaming out and yet no one can see it. It’s as if he mesmerized the entire world. 18 months ago, he became real. This is his first, honest-to-god appearance, just after the downfall of Harriet Jones. And at the exact same, they launched the Archangel Network. Even now they say that the… the Cabinet has gone into seclusion. I mean, what does that mean, ‘seclusion’?”

“I’m not sure.” I don’t notice that my hands are still working. “And that’s why I'm asking you, Abby. I’m begging you. If you have seen anything, heard anything, even the slightest thing that would give you cause to doubt him…” I blink, looking down at my hands, the embroidery is a man’s face. I touch the fabric gently. A tear hits my hand, “Doctor…” “What?” I look up, suddenly awake, “What am I wearing?” I stand up, looking at my clothing, “Where’s the Doctor?”

“Oh, great. You woke her up.”

I freeze as his hand rests on my shoulders, “Do you have any idea how long it took to put her under the first time around?” He snaps his fingers twice, and four metal spheres appear.

“Can’t you hear it, Mrs. Rock?”

“What do you mean?” “The drumbeat. The drums coming closer and closer.”

The spheres head towards Vivien, spikes now sticking out from their lower halves. “The lady doesn’t like us.”

“Silly lady.” “Dead lady.” The Master pulls me out of the room and shuts the door, deadening the screams.

I try to get out of his grasp, “Let go of me!” He sighs, grabbing hold of my head and looking deep in my eyes, “Sleep.”

I go limp in his arms.

“But he’s got a Tardis. Maybe the Master went back in time and has been living here for decades.”

“No.” “Why not? Worked for me.” Jack asks. “When he was stealing the Tardis, the only thing I could do was fuse the coordinates. I locked them permanently. He can only travel between the year 100 trillion and the last place the Tardis landed. Which is right here, right now.” “Yeah, but a little leeway?” “Well… 18 months, tops. The most he could have been here is 18 months. So how has he managed all this? The Master was always sort of… hypnotic but this is on a massive scale.” “I was gonna vote for him.” Martha admits. “Really?” “Well, it was before I even met you. And I liked him.”

“Me too.” Jack says.

“Why do you say that? What was his policy? What did he stand for?” Martha speaks dreamily, “I dunno. He always sounded… good.” Her fingers start tapping, “Like you could trust him. Just nice. He spoke about… I can’t really remember, but it was good. Just the sound of his voice.” “What’s that?” The Doctor asks.

Martha seems startled out of the tapping, “What?” “That! That tapping, that rhythm! What are you doing?”

“I dunno. It’s nothing. It’s j… I dunno!”

The phone rings.

Martha doesn’t bother to pick up. “Hey Martha, it’s Tish. I was wondering what happened between you and Abby? I asked, ‘cause I work for her husband and she said she didn’t know a Martha. And I found this embroidery she did, it’s of your friend, the Doctor. When I asked her about it she seemed dazed, wouldn’t even look at it. Anyways, call me back!”

The Doctor looks at the wall, jaw clenched.

A tune plays from the website. ‘Saxon Broadcast All Channels’ appears onscreen.

The Doctor turns on the TV, “Our lord and master is speaking to his kingdom.” On-screen, Saxon is sitting in front of the ornate fireplace in the Cabinet Room.

“Britain, Britain, Britain. What extraordinary times we’ve had. Just a few years ago, this would was so small. And then they came, out of the unknown, falling from the skies. You’ve seen it happen… Big Ben destroyed a spaceship over London. All those ghosts and metal men. The Christmas star that came to kill. Time and time again the government told you nothing. Well, not me. Not Harold Saxon. Because my purpose here today is to tell you this… citizens of Great Britain… I have been contacted. A message, for humanity, from beyond the stars.” The Master nods to someone off-camera. A video plays of one of the spheres delivering the message, “People of Earth, we come in peace. We bring great gifts. We bring technology wisdom and protection. And all we ask in return is for your friendship.” “Ooh, sweet. And this species has identified itself. They’re called the Toclafane.” “What?”

“And tomorrow morning they will appear. Not in secret, but to all of you. Diplomatic relations with a new species will begin. Tomorrow, we take your place in the universe. Every man, woman and child. Every teacher and chemist and lorry driver and farmer. And every… oh, I don’t know… medical student?” The Doctor whips around to look at Martha before turning the TV around, finding a bomb ready to go off. The Doctor grabs the laptop as they rush out into the street just as the front window of her flat explodes.

“All right?” The Doctor asks.

“Fine, yeah, fine.” “Martha? What are you doing?”

Martha is using her phone, “He knows about me. What about my family?” “Don’t tell them anything!” “I’ll do what I like! Mum? Oh my god, you’re there.” “Course I’m here, sweetheart. You all right?” “I’m fine. I’m fine. Mum, has there been anyone asking about me?” Francine is not alone, there’s a blonde woman listening in on the conversation, “Martha, I think perhaps you should come ‘round.” “I can’t! Not now!” “No, but it’s your father. We’ve been talking and we thought we might give it another go.” “Don’t be so daft! Since when?” “Just come ‘round. Come to the house, we can celebrate.” “You said you’d never get back with him in a million years.” “Ask him yourself.” Francine hands the phone to Clive. “Martha, it’s me.” “Dad? What are you doing there?” “Like your mother said, come ‘round. We can explain everything.”

“Dad? Just say yes or no. Is there someone else there?” Clive pauses, “Yes! Just run!” He gets up and heads for the door.

“Clive!” “Listen to me! Just run!” He gets grabbed by two men, “I don’t know who they are!” “We’re trying to help her! Martha, don’t listen to him!” “Dad! What’s going on? Dad?”

“I gotta help them!” Martha runs to her car.

“That’s exactly what they want! It’s a trap!” “I don’t care!” The Doctor gets into the front passenger seat while Jack takes the back.

Martha drives recklessly down the road.

“C’mon, Tish. Pick up!” 

“Martha, I can’t talk right now. We just made first contact. Did you see…” Two men take her by the arms and carry her backward up the stairs, “What are you doing?!” Tish drops the phone, “Get off! Linda, tell them!”

“What’s happening?! Tish!” Martha glances at the Doctor, “It’s all your fault! It’s all your fault!”

“I was helping you! Get off me!” Francine shouts at the men, just as Martha comes around the corner and stops the car, “Martha, get out of here! Get out!”

“Target identified.” The police take position.

“Martha, reverse.”

“Take aim…” The police aim their weapons at the car. “Get out, now!”

Marhta reverses into a 3-point turn.

The police open fire.

“Move it!”

As they take off down the road, bullets shatter the rear window.

“The only place we can go… planet Earth.” Martha speaks sarcastically and upset, “Great.” “Careful!” “Now, Martha, listen to me. Do as I say. We’ve gotta ditch this car. Pull over. Right now!” The three exit the car and head off on foot.

“Martha, come on!”

Martha is on the phone, “Leo! Oh, thank God! Leo, you gotta listen to me. Where are you?” Leo is walking along a promenade with his girlfriend and their son, “I’m in Brighton. We came down with Bocer. Did you see that Saxon thing on the telly?” “Leo, just listen to me. Don’t go home, I’m telling you. Don’t phone Mum or Dad or Tish. You’ve gotta hide.” “Shut up.” “On my life. You’ve gotta trust me. Go to Boxer’s. Stay with him. Don’t tell anyone! Just hide!”

“Ooh, a nice little game of hide-and-seek. I love that. But I’ll find you, Martha Jones. Been a long time since we saw each other. Must be, what, one hundred trillion years?”

“Let them go, Saxon.” The Doctor turns around as Martha shouts into the phone, “Do you hear me?! Let them go!” The Doctor takes the phone from Martha, “I’m here.” “Doctor.” The Master grins, looking at Abby, who sits in the corner in a trance-like state, embroidering.

“Master.” “I like it when you use my name.” “You chose it. Psychiatrist’s field day.”

“As you chose yours. The man who makes people better. How sanctimonious is that?” “So… Prime Minister.” “I know. It’s good, isn’t it?”

“Who are those creatures? ‘Cause there’s no such thing as the Toclafane. It’s just a made-up name like the Bogeyman.” “Do you remember all those fairy tales about the Toclafane when we were kids? Back home. Where is it, Doctor?”

“Gone.”

“How can Gallifrey be gone?” “It burnt.”

“And the Time Lords?” “Dead. and the Daleks… more or less. What happened to you?” “The Time Lords only resurrected me because they knew I’d be the perfect warrior for a Time War. I was there when the Dalek Emperor took control of the Cruciform. I saw it. I ran. I ran so far. Made myself human so they would never find me because… I was so scared.”

“I know.” “All of them? But now you, which must mean…” “I was the only one who could end it. And I tried. I did. I tried everything.” “What did it feel like, though? Two almighty civilizations burning. Oh, tell me, how did it feel?” “Stop it!” “You must have been like a God.” “I’ve been alone ever since. But not anymore. Don’t you see, all we’ve got is each other.” “What about your precious pet?” 

The Doctor swallows, ignoring his taunt, “You could stop this right now. We could leave this planet. We could fight across the constellations if that’s what you want. But not on Earth.”

“Too late.” “Why do you say that?” “The drumming.” The Master drums his fingers on the table, “I thought it would stop, but it never does. Never ever stops. Inside my head, the drumming, Doctor. The constant drumming.” “I could help you. Please, let me help.” “It’s everywhere. Listen, listen, listen.” He taps the table, “Here come the drums. Here come the drums.”

A man leaning against a building begins tapping his hands against his legs.

“What have you done? Tell me how you’ve done this. What are those creatures? Tell me!”

“Ooh, look. You’re on TV.”

I look up from my embroidery, I see a man on the laptop screen my husband holds.

I glance down at my hands, the embroidery is a jumble of circles…

I stand up quietly and walk out of the cabinet room.

I move quickly into one of the offices and grab a laptop off the desk.

I tuck myself into a closet and shut the door.

I start recording, 

“Doctor, if you’re seeing this, I’m safe… sort of. The Master keeps doing something to make me compliant with his acts of violence. It’s only a matter of time before he finds me and makes me forget you again. But he hasn’t hurt me yet, not physically at least. Whatever he’s doing to my mind is working less over time. Every time I snap out of it, it’s because some part of my brain knows you still. I love you. Please stay safe. I know you’ll figure out how to beat him.”

I send the video quickly before putting a timed virus on the laptop that will wipe the hard drive.

The door opens, “There you are.” He smiles softly. I look up with a viscous glare, “Hello, Master.” His smile drops, “Again?” He grabs my arm and pulls me up roughly and out of the closet, “What were you doing in there?”

“Nothing.” He stares hard, I don’t break.

He goes into the closet and pulls out the laptop, “Trying to send a message, were you?”

He taps a few things before looking at me, “You’ve wiped the hard drive.”

“Timed virus.” I grin.

“Well, we can’t have you foiling my plans.” He throws the laptop to the ground, grabbing my head and forcing me to look into his eyes.

“You’re going to obey. I don’t care how many times I have to make you forget.”

“How was it?” Jack asks as Martha walks into the warehouse, a bag of takeaway in her hand.

“I don’t think anyone saw me. Anything new?”

“I’ve got this tuned into the government wavelength so we can follow what Saxon’s doing.” “Yeah, I meant about my family.”

“It still says the Jones family has been taken in for questioning. Tell you what, though, no mention of Leo.” The Doctor responds.

“He’s not as daft as he looks. I’m talking about my brother on the run. How did this happen?”

Jack sits down, “Nice chips.” “Actually, they’re not bad.” The Doctor pops one in his mouth.

Martha sits, she and Jack exchange looks and she nods her head in the Doctor’s direction.

“So, Doctor, who is he? How come the ancient society of Time Lords created a psychopath?” Jack starts. “And what is he to you? Like a colleague…” “A friend, at first.” “I thought you were gonna say he was your secret brother or something.” The Doctor and Jack stare at her.

“You’ve been watching too much TV.” Martha chuckles half-heartedly. “But all the legends of Gallifrey made it sound so perfect.” “Well, perfect to look at, maybe. And it was, it was beautiful.” The Doctor leans back, “They used to call it the Shining World of the Seven Systems. And on the Continent of Wild Endeavour, in the Mountains of Solace and Solitude, there stood the Citadel of the Time Lords. The oldest and most mighty race in the universe… looking down on the galaxies below… sworn never to interfere… only to watch… children of Gallifrey, taken from their families at the age of eight to enter the Academy. And some say that’s where it all began. When he was a child… that’s when the Master saw eternity. As a novice, he was taken for initiation, it’s a gap in the fabric of reality through which could be seen the whole of the vortex. You stand there, eight years old… staring a the raw power of time and space, just a child. Some would be inspired… some would run away… and some would go mad.” “What about you?” Martha asks.

The Time Lord speaks with his mouth full, “Oh, the ones that ran away. I never stopped.” Jack’s manipulator beeps, “Encrypted channel with files attached. Don’t recognize it.”

“Patch it through to the computer.”

“Um, since we’re telling stories, um, there’s something I haven’t told you.” The Torchwood logo appears onscreen.

“You work for Torchwood.” “I swear to you, it’s different. It’s changed. There’s only half a dozen of us now.”

“Everything Torchwood did and you’re part of it?!”

“The old regime was destroyed at Canary Wharf. I rebuilt it, I changed it. And when I did that, I did it for you, in your honor.”

The Doctor only glares at him before opening the first file.

It’s a video of Vivien Rook.

“If I haven’t returned to my desk by 2200 hours, this file will be emailed to Torchwood. Which means, if you’re watching this, then I’m… Anyway, the Saxon files are attached. But take a look at the Archangel document. That’s when it all started. When Harold Saxon became Minister in charge of launching the Archangel Network.” The screen changes to show a graphic of a spinning Earth with satellites. “What’s the Archangel Network?” The Doctor asks.

Martha pulls out her phone, “I’ve got Archangel. Everyone’s got it.” “It’s the mobile phone network. ‘Cause, look, it’s gone worldwide. They’ve got 15 satellites in orbit. Even the other networks, they’re all carried by Archangel.”

The Doctor uses his sonic on Martha’s phone, “It’s in the phones! Oh, I said he was a hypnotist! Wait, wait, wait. Hold on.” He taps the phone against the table and it begins to beep in the same rhythm, “There it is. That rhythm, it’s everywhere. Ticking away in the subconscious.” “What is it, mind control?” “No, no, no, no. subtler than that. Any stronger and people would question it. But contained in the rhythm, in layers of code… Vote Saxon. Believe in me. Whispering to the world. Oh, yes! That’s how he hid himself from me. ‘Cause I should have sensed there was another Time Lord on Earth. I should have known way back. The signal canceled him out.” “Any way you can stop it?” Jack asks.

“Not from down here. But now we know how he’s doing it.” “And we can fight back.”

“Oh, yes!”

The laptop beeps.

“Someone’s emailed me.” Martha sees. “Who?” “Dunno, some random person.” She looks at the subject line, “It’s addressed to you, Doctor.” “Open it.”

Martha clicks the file, a video starts playing.

The woman on screen is Abby, her face is lit only by the computer screen she is recording on, “Doctor, if you’re seeing this, I’m safe… sort of. The Master keeps doing something to make me compliant with his acts of violence. It’s only a matter of time before he finds me and makes me forget you again. But he hasn’t hurt me yet, not physically at least. Whatever he’s doing to my mind is working less over time. Every time I snap out of it, it’s because some part of my brain knows you still. I love you. Please stay safe. I know you’ll figure out how to beat him.” The video ends.

A look of sadness appears on the Doctors’ face, reflected by the final frame of the video.

The Doctor takes apart the mobile and the laptop. He then takes Martha and Jack’s Tardis keys. He uses his sonic screwdriver to weld circuitry to the keys. He then ties them to string so they can be worn around the neck.

“Three Tardis keys, three pieces of the Tardis with low-level perception properties because the Tardis is designed to blend in. well, sort of, but.. Now! The Archangel Network’s got a second low-level signal. Weld the key to the network and… Martha,” He steps back, “look at me. You can see me, yes?”

“Yep!” “What about now?” He slips the key over his neck. Martha’s vision veers off and she blinks.

Jack chuckles.

The Doctor’s voice echoes, “No, I’m here. Look at me.”

“It’s like… I know you’re there, but I don’t want to know.”

“And back again.” The Doctor takes off the key, “See? It just shifts your perception a tiny little bit. Doesn’t make us invisible, just unnoticed. Oh, I know what it’s like. It’s like… it’s like when you fancy someone and they don’t even know you exist. That’s what it’s like. Come on!” The Doctor walks off. Martha looks at Jack.

“You too, hunh?” They walk out onto the streets. “Don’t run. Don’t shout. Just keep your voice down. Draw attention to yourself and the spell is broken. Just keep to the shadows.” “Like ghosts.” “Yeah, that’s what we are. Ghosts.” They each place a key around their necks before heading into the city.

“And as the eyes of the world turn towards Great Britain, sources indicate that Air Force One has landed on British soil tonight.

Harold and I arrive with an escort to greet President Winters on the tarmac.

“Mr. President, sir!” Harold salutes. “Mr. Saxon. The British Army will stand down. From now on, UNIT has control of this operation.” Winters states. “You make it sound like an invasion.” “The first contact policy was decided by the Security Council in 1968. And you’ve just gone and ignored it.” “Well, you know what it’s like. New job, all that paperwork. I think it’s down the back of the settee. I did have a quick look. I found a pen, a sweet, a bus ticket, and uh… have you met the wife?” “Mr. Saxon, I’m not sure what your game is but there are provisions at the United Nations to have you removed from office unless you are very, very careful. Is that understood?” Harold mimes zipping his lips. “Are you taking this seriously?” He nods, “To business. We’ve accessed your files on these… Toclafane. First contact cannot take place on any sovereign soil. For that purpose, the aircraft carrier Valiant is en route. The rendezvous will take place there at 8:00 am.” Harold tries to talk through zipped lips. “You’re trying my patience, sir.” He unzips his lips, “So America is completely in charge?” “Since Britain elected an ass, yes. I’ll see you onboard the Valiant.” Winters turns to leave. “It still will be televised, though, won’t it? Because I promised, and the whole world is watching.” Winters sighs, “Since it’s too late to pull out, the world will be watching. Me.” Winters walks to a waiting car.

Harold turns to me, “The last President of America. We have a private plane ready and waiting. We should reach the Valiant within the hour.” He motions for me to go first, “My darling.”

I start to walk over to the plane.

I hear sirens, I turn.

There’s a family being pulled out of the vehicle.

A thought crosses my mind, ‘Jones.’

I close my eyes for a moment, and an image flashes through my head, “Martha?” I whisper.

I look past the police cars and the Master, I see the Doctor.

I smile before turning and walking into the plane.

We arrive at the bridge/conference room of the Valiant. There are secret service agents, various military personnel as well as camera crews preparing for the event.

“I want the whole thing branded in my sort of honest, not the United Nations. Got that?” The Master walks up to President Winters, “Anything I can do? I could make tea, or is that not American enough? I don’t know, I could make grits. What are grits, anyway?” “If you could just sit.” The Master turns and makes a face, “Misery guts. What do you think? It’s good, isn’t it?”

He pulls out a chair for me.

I sit down, “It’s beautiful.”

“Two minutes, everyone!” Winters climbs some steps, “According to the treaty, all armed personnel are requested to leave the flight deck immediately. Thank you.”

The Master is watching like it’s all entertainment, “Jelly baby?”

“Broadcasting at 7:58 with the arrival time at 08:00 precisely. And, uh, good luck to all of us.”

“And in just 30 seconds’ time, we’ll be going live for first contact. It has been announced that Harold Saxon has invited President Winters to take the address.” “It’s 3:00 in the morning on the eastern seaboard and President Winters has been chosen to lead the world into a new age.”

“My fellow Americans, patriots, people of the world… I stand before you today as an ambassador for humanity, a role I undertake with utmost solemnity. Perhaps our Toclafane cousins can offer us much, but what is important is not that we gain material benefits, but that we learn to see ourselves anew.” I look at the Master, his smile is gone.

“For as long as man has looked to the stars, he has wondered what mysteries they hold. Now we know we are not alone. And I ask you now, I ask of the human race, to join with me in welcoming our friends. I give you the Toclafane.” The spheres appear around the president, “My name is Arthur Coleman Winters, President-Elect of the United States of America and designated representative of the United Nations. I welcome you to the planet Earth and its associated moon.”

The Toclafane circle him, “You’re not the Master.”

“We like the Mr. Master.”

“We don’t like you.” “I… can be Master, if you so wish. I will accept mastery over you if that is God’s will.” “Man is stupid.”

“Master is our friend.”

“Where’s my Master, pretty please?” “Oh, all right then. It’s me.” The Master stands, “Ta-da!” He laughs, “Sorry. Sorry, I have this effect. People just get obsessed. It is the smile? Is it the aftershave? Is it the capacity to laugh at myself? I don’t know. It’s crazy!” “Saxon, what are you talkin’ about?” President Winters asks.

The Master turns to him, “I’m taking control, Uncle Sam. starting with you.” The Time Lord speaks to the Toclafane, “Kill him.” One of the Toclafane shoots Winters with a laser and he disintegrates. Chaos erupts as everyone tries to leave the room. The Master’s people pull out their weapons, “Guards!” “Nobody move! Nobody move!” The Master speaks into the camera, “Now then, people of Earth, please attend carefully.”

I see the Doctor run forward. “Stop him!” Two guards grab him and force him to kneel on the floor.

“We meet, at last, Doctor. Oh, ho! I love saying that!”

“Stop this! Stop it now!”

“As if a perception filter’s gonna work on me. Oh, and look, it’s the girlie and the freak. Although, I’m not sure which one’s which.” Jack rushes at the Master and gets shot with a laser, “Laser screwdriver, who’d have sonic. And the good thing is, he’s not dead for long. I get to kill him again!”

Martha goes to Jack.

“Master, just calm down. Just look at what you’re doing. Just stop. If you could see yourself…” The Master sighs, looking at the camera, “Oh, do excuse me, a little bit of personal business. Back in a minute.” He speaks to the guards, “Let him go.” The guards push the Doctor to the floor. “It’s that sound, the sound in your head. What if I could help?”

“Oh, how to shut him up? I know. Memory Lane!” The Master sits on the steps facing the Doctor, “Professor Lazarus. Remember him? And his genetic manipulation device? Did you think that little Tish got that job merely by coincidence? I’ve been laying traps for you all this time. And if I can concentrate all that Lazarus technology into one little screwdriver… But, ooh, if only I had the Doctor’s biological code. Oh, wait a minute, I do!” He runs to a silver case and opens it, “I’ve got his hand! And if Lazarus made himself younger, what if I reverse it? Another hundred years?” He aims the screwdriver at the Doctor, who screams as he convulses.

I cover my mouth in shock, tears flowing down my face.

I run to him, and hold his face in my hands. Martha joins me, “We’ve got you, Doctor.” “Aw, she’s a would-be-doctor. But tonight, Martha Jones, we’ve flown ‘em in all the way from prison.” The door slides open and guards escort in Francine, Clive and Tish.

“Mum.”

Francine cries, “I’m sorry.” The Doctor breathes heavily, “The Toclafane, who are they? Who are they?” “Doctor, if I told you the truth, your hearts would break.” “Is it time?”

“Is it ready?”

“Is the machine singing?” The Master checks his watch, “Two minutes past.” He mounts the steps, “So! Earthlings. Basically, um, end of the world.” He holds up his screwdriver, “Here… come… the drums…”

Rogue Trader’s Voodoo Child starts playing.

A rift opens in the sky. “Six billion.” The Master switches on an outside speaker, “Down you go, kids!” He looks to me, “Shall we decimate them? That sounds good. Nice word, decimate.” He speaks to the Toclafane, “Remove one-tenth of the population!”

I feel tears fall rapidly as the messages come in from the ground. “Valiant, this is Geneva! We’re getting slaughtered down here!”

Martha stands. “Help us, for God’s sake! Help us! They’re everywhere!” “This is London, Valiant! This is London calling! What do we do?!”

Martha looks from her family to me.

“They’re killing us! The Toclafane are killing us!”

With a last look at the Doctor, she activates something on her wrist, disappearing in a flash of light.

#doctor who x reader #tenth doctor x reader #autistic writer #autistic!reader #chrysalis story #doctor who x oc #tenth doctor x oc

[spiralparadox125]

Teri Hatcher Movieline Interview 1996

"Seriously," she continues, "it's really nice right now between Dean and me. He's off doing his first real movie with Drew Barrymore. He called me two nights ago, and we talked for 45 minutes. Drew has been around a lot and I think she can offer a lot of acting experience to him. It was wonderful hearing him tell me how this or that had happened on the set and I found myself going, 'I'm not so bad, am 1? You thought I was nutso but I'm not really, am 1?' It makes me feel really good that he's come to appreciate me more than maybe he did initially, that now he really thinks I'm cool and a great actress. I don't think that he always thought that." Some people do think Hatcher pushes the star envelope on certain occasions. I run down a few of the things said to make for a bumpy ride on a Hatcher set. "I'm driven. Really professional and nor the kind of person who will just let things go," she declares, "On the show, I do go, 'No, it's not supposed to be like that,' rather than just take the resigned attitude, 'It'll be easier if we just do it this way and nobody will notice.' The shows means something to me. I'm really proud of my work on it. Sometimes I step back and think, 20 years from now, 'Lois & Clark' will be part of American history like 'Gilligan's Island,' or 'The A-Team' or 'Charlie's Angels."' I ask Hatcher whether she'd watch "Lois & Clark" if she didn't star in it. She hasn't a ready answer. "I don't watch television," she says, falling silent. After a few moments, she finally remarks, "I have so much baggage about what it takes to make the show, about what it's taken from my life, that it would be skewed for me to say I wouldn't watch it if I weren't on it. Would I watch the show? Dean's really cute, so I guess, if I had nothing --if I was just flipping through the channels, I'd probably be like every other woman in America and go, 'Wooo, he's cute." On to the topic, then, of Cain's tights: padded or all Dean all the time? Hatcher leans in, smiling like a minx: "Haven't you heard those rumors? From what I've heard, there's no padding involved." And how does Cain rate on Hatcher's kiss-o-meter? "l haven't kissed anybody but my husband for four years," she frets, before giving it up. "Well, except Deem, who is a great, great kisser."

"In terms of relationships and almost everything else," she says, "I call this the 'Microwave Society.' Everything has to be fixed in a minute. It leads us all to feeling like the second anything gets a little bit uncomfortable, move on. [Personally-] I have not found this business to be full of temptation, even though I work with attractive people. You're put into situations where you get close to people very quickly, and if things are at all rocky in your normal life, you can get confused in fantasies of how things could be with this or that person. [But] I am very clear about the line between fantasy and reality." "Television is in your face every week, so l think TV people are probably bigger than movie stars. There are probably far more people who want to know what I'm up to than what Meryl Streep's doing. "All I know," she continues, "is that I'm on that show every week and I'm, like, a big deal on the Internet. What more could I want? Well, I did write my first script this year. It was only for 'Lois & Clark,' but still. And I'm going to direct a 20-minute short. See, I have a goal, not a 'soon' goal or a 'near' goal, but still a goal that I haven't really admitted aloud. I want to produce, direct, write and star in a romantic comedy. Whew! There, I've said it. I'm a firm believer in putting your money where your mouth is."

#Lois and Clark #lois and clark: the new adventures of superman #Teri Hatcher #Dean Cain #Clois #Lois x Clark #Clark x Lois #Clark and Lois

[tosin-talks]

Tosin Talks about residual symptoms of BPD

I haven’t really directly talked about symptoms of Borderline Personality Disorder on my blog because I haven’t felt ready to discuss the real horrors of the disorder; I wasn’t even sure where to start and how to talk about my story. Additionally, I just haven’t been as affected by my symptoms as I used to be. For years, I have been working hard to recover from the diagnosis that I received in 2018 and undiagnosed symptoms that I experienced before then. Recovery is possible and I believe I’ve survived some of the worst parts of the disorder but BPD is a mental illness that greatly impacts one’s thought processes and perception of the world so I still experience the long-term effects of it.

I haven’t had a typical “BPD episode” in about 3-4 months. I don’t think I’ve self-harmed in about 6-7 months and I don't have constant urges to do so either. My reactions and responses are a lot less intense these days which probably means that my mental health has improved. Now that the life-threatening and extremely destructive symptoms aren’t a main issue, I am working on my issues with emotional impermanence, interpersonal relationships, splitting, and chronic emptiness.

I still struggle with the well known BPD concept of a “favorite person”, especially since a long-term relationship recently ended. I try to be cognizant of when I may unconsciously make someone else my new favorite person but it can be difficult to notice since my symptoms aren’t that intense anymore. Now that I process and evaluate my feelings towards someone, it’s not as easy to realize if I just really like and admire them or I’m idealizing them. The downside to when I realize that I might have idealized someone that I’m close to is the devaluation and emptiness that follows. The shift isn’t as grandiose as it used to be and rather than switching from black to white, I move between dark grey and light grey. I’ve been working really hard on not letting others’ thoughts, opinions, and worldviews become my own or heavily impact the way I perceive myself. I used to shapeshift to become whoever I assumed my favorite person wanted me to be. Now, I’m discovering my true self and learning to love her and choose her every time.

I definitely still experience mood swings but the highs and lows aren’t very high or low and they mostly occur on or around my period. Something that’s frustrating to still experience is emotional impermanence. I wish I had a better hold on an emotion and did a better job of remembering that a certain emotion will return. Another symptom that I still occasionally experience is chronic emptiness. I feel what Charles Baudelaire called “ennui”. I feel extremely detached and like I’m watching myself live this silly game of mundanity. I feel disconnected from the city I live in and some of the people I interact with and have little hope of this issue improving. I haven’t yet discovered what triggers my feelings of numbness and emptiness, it’s almost like I’m splitting on life itself. However, I’ve been combatting the emptiness by creating and stimulating my mind. I’ve been reading, learning new things, and writing a lot more.

Sometimes I get disappointed in myself for still experiencing minor symptoms. I understand that BPD can be a lifelong journey even if/when I no longer meet diagnosing criteria but I am fearful that I may never have a healthy, happy, long-term partnership or have my emotions completely in check or feel at home anywhere that I move to. I’m learning to give myself the same grace that I would give a future client or my younger self. I’ve come so far, my progress is definitely observable and I can acknowledge my effort and the results of that hard work. I’m not expected to completely rid myself of over a decade of mental health challenges in just a day. If I’m being honest, I didn’t expect myself to even live this long so I’m simply proud to be alive and sharing my story with you all. 

If you are experiencing thoughts of suicide or emotional distress, dial 988 for the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline or text “HELLO” to 741741 for the Crisis Text Line. For more education, advocacy, and support about BPD, visit the National Education Alliance for Borderline Personality Disorder (neabpd.org) and the National Alliance on Mental Illness (nami.org).

Background music by Mist3r

#tosin talks #tosin talk #bpd awareness #living with bpd #bpd #borderline personality disorder #actually bpd #bpd feels #bpd recovery #favorite person #emotional permanence #bpd splitting #chronic emptiness #interpersonal relationships #idealization #devaluation #mental health recovery #mental health awareness #mental health #charles baudelaire #ennui #bpd relationships #SoundCloud

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

💬

Oho another anonymous! And another snippet from Hiraeth, because apparently that's the story I'm sharing bits of today :P

Okay so this section was terribly hard to write, for reasons that ought to be obvious, but in the end I'm unexpectedly proud of how it came out - I mean - well, I hope you know what I mean. This is the bit that continued from the previously shared snippet, that I decided not to share then, but here it is now. The 'she' referred to is Aelwen's mother, and 'he' is her father.

“Please.” She took an involuntary step forward, desperation in her voice. “Please, please, come back with us, even just once, I beg you—try it again, or talk to me—to us—” He lifted his head and glanced at her, looking older than his years. There were shadows on his face, still largely covered by his capable hands. “Don’t bother me with it,” he replied tiredly. “I’m not coming. I’ve had all the years to try, and I tried, I tried to believe, and I just couldn’t. Don’t try and pretend that it’s a thing that I can just will into being.” He leaned his head on his hands again and added, “I wish it were the case, but faith is harder than that, and I simply don’t believe any more. This is the harder way out. If I’d been any weaker, I would have stayed, kept on going with you, but it would be hypocritical of me to do that, don’t you think? As it was, it was terribly hard to convince myself to come clean to you all and tell you about it.” It was as if, Aelwen realised as she stood there, very still and horrified, he had finally snapped and decided to tell them everything that he had not revealed before, no matter how much it may hurt them in the process. “If God was real,” he continued, in an impassioned voice, “I’d know about it. Goodness knows I’ve been searching for years and years, and not found any evidence. I just didn’t want to bother you with it, but eventually, it became too much. I dislike to live a lie,” her father said, biting off each word precisely. “I have been a hypocrite for far too long throughout my life, and it changed when I finally told my family how I truly felt. I am not intending to go back and become one of those sheep again, following a system of belief just because it seems convenient, easy or what you grew up in.” “Believing the Bible in truth is not the easy path,” said her mother, sounding like she was scarcely holding back tears. He ignored her. “I’m not coming. Please don’t ask me again. If I ever decide that I will come back, whether to stay or just to confirm that I’ve made the right decision….” There was an unnecessary jab, put in because he was angry and upset. Aelwen could recognise it far too easily: he wanted to hurt them, maybe because he still wanted his faith back. “…I will. But don’t try and push me. If you do, you’re liable to get results that you didn’t actually want.” “Such as?” Her voice trembled even more. “Trust me. You don’t want to know.” He got up, abruptly, and walked out of the room without a backward glance.

If from the point of view of the other side this interpretation of his emotions doesn't really make sense, don't forget that all this is from Aelwen's POV - she may or may not be interpreting his reasons correctly. She still holds her faith, and doesn't understand how he can not, even though at times she is slipping into despair.

I would love feedback on this. (excerpt #4 for today)

#ask #thanks for the ask! #once again this was drawn from real life tho this scene didn't precisely happen #but from things ive read written by the specific people i originally wrote this story about/bc of - what her father says seems similar to #what they say. #suh #suh excerpts #story:hiraeth #excerpts #my writing #writing #feedback welcome! #im sorry this is so doomy and gloomy this story #but! it is a story of hope in some ways #anyway #currently vaguely gathering together a launch team: dm if interested

[ateezyuri]

yuri universe update 220713

[11:47] my little tiger <3

[11:47] i miss when leo was a baby

[11:47] he was so tiny !!!

[11:48] he was the size of my hand 💔

[11:48] now he is a big, handsome boy <33

[11:48] he grew up so fast

[11:48] i am a proud cat mom !!!

[11:49] do i want kids when i grow up?

[11:49] i already have two kids...

[11:49] real kids ?!? are you saying my cats aren’t real kids?

[11:49] >:(

[11:49] roxie and leo are my childern and i am content with having fur babies !!!

[11:50] i never really thought about if i wanted kids or not

[11:50] i don’t think i really thought about it...

[11:51] i love kids w all my heart like

[11:52] they are just so cute !!!!

[11:52] but i am def not responsible enough to have one now

[11:52] i can barely make food for myself 😭😭

[11:53] wooyoung is actually teaching me how to cook a little bit!!!

[11:53] he always scolds me for eating take-out when he makes something :(

[11:53] i dont do it purposely! he doesn’t tell me he is cooking, and i don’t realize he’s cooking until after i already placed the order :(

[11:54] i’m in my room listening to music or gaming so i don’t hear him cooking

[11:54] my headphones are noise cancelling so i literally don’t hear anything

[11:55] how did we go from talking about leo to talking about wooyoung scolding me ??

[11:56] i get off topic so fast

[11:57] but woo and i have been bonding a lot recently

[11:57] i have a lot of fun cooking with him!

[11:57] i should make a video of us cooking together?

[11:57] that’s actually a really cute idea!!

[11:58] i’m still taking a break from youtube

[11:58] but maybe that will be my comeback video!

[11:58] hopefully it turns out better than the homemade boba we made ....

[11:59] that was terrible 😭

[12:00] i plan on coming back to youtube soon!

[12:00] i just needed to rest <3

[12:01] i’ve been so busy this year!!

[12:01] i’ve had so much fun with everything so far !!!

[12:02] i’m genuinely so happy right now !!!

[12:02] i hope atiny is happy too <3

[12:02] these past few years have been really hard

[12:03] but it’s getting so much better!

[12:03] i’m really confident that this year will turn out well !!

[12:04] please support ateez and our comeback <33

[12:04] it’s amazing !!! i’m so excited for it to be released <3

[12:04] i’m going to go work out now 💪

[12:05] i’ll message you on my way home 💕

[12:05] i love you <33

[12:06] i’m eating lunch after i work out!

[12:06] i’ll send pictures !!!

[12:07] i ate an egg sandwich and a protein shake earlier !!

[12:07] i was very sleepy 😭

[12:08] eat well atiny ! i love you !

tags: @chaerincore @atzaria @ateezjuliet @m00niesk7 @btsnvra @softieteez @lunarxsun @shinyddeonghwa @girlzwfun @still-astray @txt-yaomi @fromfreesia @kittiverse [send an ask to be included or removed]

#yuri :: universe #aesocnet. #deluxeocnet #mochiocnet #ateez 9th member #ateez added member #ateez addition #ateez extra member #ateez female addition #ateez female member #ateez female oc #ateez ninth member #ateez oc member #kpop oc #ateez oc #ateez girl member

[jkastudio]

Im so sad im moving out of the stu :(

I haven’t been here in the studio since I finish my Glad school applications. I took a week break because it was really exhausting and it was a lot and I was burnt out a little bit.

And now I’m back I’m trying to be in the routine again. I was really grateful that I had some time off and I can afford to have some time off during then I was updating my website put in my works up so that if the colleges Woodstock me they would see my work on my website

But now I’m back in the studio and I’m looking around and all our artworks up on the wall are gone from the Mural. And it’s really sad and not the same anymore and Kanell puts me in a slump looking at it.

Lenny moved out like a week ago and I should be cleaning up as well. I mean Josh let me stay here to work on my grad school stuff but now that I’m done with that I also don’t wanna overstay my welcome and just stay here for free.

Right now there’s not really much going on. My freelance jobs is a little bit stagnant battery for a woman is down. We have a project for Newark and that’s the only thing I’m working on right now and then I’m fixing my portfolio but that’s all I’ve been doing my school stuff for God I’m just waiting for to hear back.

So I am trying to apply to a bunch of stuff reaching out to people, but no one really has reached back to me. At least I got hired for that summer job in at the park. I’m really excited about that but aside from that there’s really not much going on.

I’m wondering if I can barter for a work studio set up but I’m not even sure if that’s a good idea I’m not sure how my schedule is going to look like in the future

It’s kind of crazy because usually around this time when I’m not doing stuff I go crazy I can’t go crazy for real and now I’m a little bit more calm because I have gone through like stagnancy before but I’ve learned to keep myself busy. I worked on my portfolio and it looks amazing. My website looks gorgeous. I keep on like looking at it so I’m very very proud of that.

I’m looking for Lyka top of like an educational background type work because that’s kind of what I’m going to Costco for a kinda wanna do my toes in it before I come in so there’s also that

But I just keeping my options open keeping myself busy. I hate going like spiraling when I’m bored, but so fun doing great job.

But I’m really just upset about my studio. I don’t wanna leave the store with the great studio. I wanna like take advantage of it and paint a little bit before I leave but just the thought of like me leaving the studio just makes me so sad.

A part of me is a little worried that maybe I’m doing this too early. Going to grad school too early. I’m not done to do I have done a lot and I’ve done a lot of progress with my own work but what I’m thinking is that ends? I do like serious things I’m not really gonna be able to do whatever I want. Meaning I don’t really get to do like the things that I’m doing now like going to work for the county and paint theater props you know so it’s one thing I’m kind of thinking about

Because I spoke to Jahi and he was talking a lot about that Hoe grad school is fake and how everything else or that is what matters end that’s it like this time right now is your wild wild west and I’m just thinking that like if I really really do take my art seriously and then go to residencies go to shows exhibit‘s move far away like I’m not gonna be able to do my art assistance job like meet you people being like our team and I realize that I actually really really enjoy those things so I don’t know how I feel about that

I mean, I’m sure that I’ll be able to still work with people collaborate and things like that in the future but I don’t know it’s just a little thing that I’m thinking about