#my mental health has already been insanely shaky

[bardcore-jaskier]

♡ My thoughts on Yennskier + headcanons ♡

(Edited post)

- What makes this whole thing so funny and exciting to me is that Yennefer used to think that Jaskier was just some annoying sing songy twit before. While Jaskier's dramatic arse used to consider Yennefer an enemy until she saved him from Rience XD XD XD

- I adored the everliving FUCK out of their scenes together in season 2! Their dynamic is so fucking good! AAAAAAAAAHHH!!!!

- Yennskier, the ship we didn't know we needed, but definitely deserved! Their chemistry is so fucking perfect and their dynamic works so well!

- Personally I think that this ship is actually, currently, THE healthiest and most wholesome one of all my Jaskier ships! At least as of season 2! (Even if Geraskier remains as my OTP)

- In Oxenfurt, when Jaskier and Yennefer got to know eachother better without Geralt's presence to distract them both, ever since they saw the real, raw and vulnerable sides of eachother and became friends, I couldn't help but notice how absolutely toothrottingly perfect they are together!

- Legit, and I kid you not! I can't picture Yennefer and Jaskier having anything other than that deep kind of connection where you know that you are loved, appreciated and adored, despite all your flaws. The kind of love where you know you're not alone, that this person is your family and will always have your back no matter what.

- Yennefer, despite being one of the most powerful sorceresses on the entire continent, treats Jaskier as an equal by the time Ciri gets possessed. (Bro, like even Geralt doesn't do that! Jaskier is his friend, sure, but I've never seen Geralt treating him as an equal.)

- Yennefer and Jaskier have a mutual respect for eachother, they trust eachother, they enjoy eachother's company. All of those things are A CRUCIAL part of having a solid foundation to build a honest, sturdy, long-lasting and happy relationship upon.

- From compatibility POV, they work together a lot better than Geralt and Yennefer did. With Jaskier, there are no djinn related consent issues, there wouldn't be any communication issues and he would probably be a positive influence on Yennefer's mental health.

- Whereas her relationship with Geralt was quite frankly chaotic, explosive, sometimes even toxic. It was built upon a shaky foundation of lust, djinn magic and exchanged favors. Like c'mon, their time together as an on-and-off couple mostly consisted of having kinky unicorn sex, trauma dumping, dealing with magical, gorey and insanely dangerous situations, then talking about said situations until they have a fight! Leaving eachother every time in the end because they can't seem to make it work long-term. They're incompatible because in canon, the only thing that finally made them stick together for good, was an orphaned girl in need of protection. It's not right, kind of like parents who are postponing their divorce until their daughter grows up :/

- Jaskier on the other hand, despite his magic-less ordinary humanity has a hilariously witty, optimistic, stupidly brave, highly empathetic, loyal and supportive personality. Yennefer would have an understanding partner who loves her, cherishes her, acceptc her for who she is without judgement nor pity. A partner who would make it his life's mission to help her see the good things this world has to offer, to make her happy because she deserves it!

- Damn it all, they both have been through enough, they both deserve a break. They actually GET eachother. I can already feel a drabble forming in my brain, set a week or so after the whole Voleth Mier shebang, Jaskier is struggling with PTSD and nightmares about Rience, Yennefer is struggling with guilt and shame because she put Ciri in danger. So while Geralt is too busy with Ciri's training to be there for Jaskier and he feels too betrayed to be in Yennefer's company, neither Yen nor Jask have anyone to turn to in Kaer Morhen, except eachother. Three months confined to a witcher keep together? Now that is a LOT of time to spend with someone you can be openly vulnerable around, bond with, heal and share joy with, unexpectedly falling in love....

- Yennefer too is an extremely good match for Jaskier, it's almost uncanny how much she completes him! Jaskier would finally have an understanding and loving partner who truly saw him when others didn't bother. And Yennefer liked what she saw, the familiar face of a simple human bard who offered kindness and compassion to strangers even if it could kill him. She saw courage, honesty, forgiveness and so much good, a collection of rare qualities she had never thought could exist within one single person all at once. After Voleth Mier, all that goodness was given to her so freely, it is still being given to her everyday, so she knows a treasure when it looks her right in the eyes with such easy warmth. She would make it her life's mission to cling onto him with everything she's got, to love and cherish him the way he deserves, to protect the only person she deems worthy of holding her heart!

- They have a lot in common too. From both having a knack for fashion, both being mischievous little shits at heart and both having high standards when it comes to personal hygiene. To also having similar tastes in both alcohol, humor, luxury and entertainment.....if Yennefer's kinky orgy party and Jaskier's reputation as the biggest slut on the continent is anything to go by.

- Speaking of sex, both of them having a high libido and exceptional skills in bed aside, they're fucking GORGEOUS people! Why wouldn't they find eachother attractive?

- Yennefer is basically a Goddess, beauty personified! She is elegant and breathtaking, everyone knows it.

- However, since a majority of the Witcher fandom usually dismisses Jaskier in favor of simping for Geralt, I can, I must and I WILL gush about how pretty Jaskier is! Cuz clearly some of them bitches be blind, Yennefer is one lucky witch!

- Jaskier is like only 1,5 inches shorter than his grouchy snowman friend. Meaning he is tall as all hell and he definitely isn't lacking in the muscle department either, that bard is jacked yo. His voice is soothing and his vocabulary is extensive enough to make the most experienced of whores blush from pillow talk. He has VERY soft looking hair and he has one of the most angelic fucking faces I've ever seen. His eyes are the clearest shade of blue and his expressions + mannerisms are absolutely adorable! Ok, I'm done gushing, onto the next point....

- Unlike Jaskier, I don't think I have a dummy thick enough of a vocabulary to express how much dopamine Yennskier fanfics give me, more specifically when their husband and wife act from Oxenfurt becomes an inside joke for them, leaving the rest of Kaer Morhen's inhabitants confused as fuck.

- Geralt getting a bit jealous? His brothers wondering when that could have happened? Ciri feeling bamboozled as well?

- It's all shits and giggles until somebody giggles and shits. It won't take long until their inside joke is no longer a joke. They already bicker like a married couple anyway XD

- I can not help but also headcanon Jaskier as not fully human. It would be sad if he up and died on his dear immortal wife. I don't necessarily picture him having chaos or other powers in this scenario, but when I do, I think that they would discover them together on accident.

#jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #netflix witcher #witcher netflix #dandelion #jaskier dandelion #witcher ciri #yennefer of vengerberg #yenneferthewitcher #yennskier #cirilla of cintra #cirilla fiona elen riannon #geralt of rivia #witcher geralt #witcher headcanon #yennefer x jaskier #part elf jaskier #nonhuman jaskier #immortal jaskier #witcher ship

[creepypasta-archive]

Shh

by Dani Fyffe

One of my favourite Jeff stories, it's as paint by numbers as the rest but it pokes all the characterization buttons i want in a Jeff story. It's simple but it's the kind of story i would write.

CW// murder, disfigurement mention, mental institution, paranoia

Click below to read the original unedited story

I sat at the desk of Deslexor mental health hospital, or a better name for it, a fucking insane asylum. Don’t ask how I ended up getting a job here.

It’s a bit calmer during the day when everyone is here. I have the graveyard shift. From 10 to 5. I know it’s a short time but the patients here never sleep. All I can hear is screaming and talking.

What makes this place scary as shit is cell 109. Well, who’s in there anyway? A boy who has to be no older than 19. He butchered his whole family then took off.

I haven’t seen him personally but from what I’m told, his face is enough to scar someone for life. According to his record, his name is Jeffery Woods otherwise for me known as a fucking psychopath.

Apparently, from what I heard people actually dare others to go in his cell. He’s been here for a few weeks.

All they found on him was a knife and the clothes on his back. Sounds silly I know but this fucker has killed over 2,000 people.

Took the police 5 years to catch him. So instead of putting him in a fucking cell for the rest of his life, they dump him on us. I sighed and got up. I slowly walked towards cell 109. I hesitated for a minute but gave in.

“Hey,” I said shakily.

“Hey,” Said a shaky raspy voice.

“I’m David.”

“Jeff.”

“Can’t let this place get to you. I was locked up here for quite some time. I know how those walls will make you feel.” I said.

There was silence for a minute, then Jeff spoke.

“I’m actually very comfortable in here. Nothing can cause me to lose my mind when I already have. Besides, I can get out of here really easily. It’s only a door holding me in. Let me rest and I’ll be out to visit in a few hours haha.”

I back away from the door. Was he fucking serious?! Nah he’s probably just trying to scare me. I walked away back to my post.

I continued to listen to the other patients until sleep overtook me. I shot awake and looked around. Nothing. I checked the time. 2:23 a.m. I stood up and noticed that it was deathly quiet here.

“Huh, everyone must finally be asleep,” I said.

I went to the nearest soda machine and got a Coke. The hissing and clicking sound echoed throughout the place. I sipped while looking around and went back to my desk.

Sitting down I turned on the radio. I was about 5 minutes into the staticky singing when the lights shit off. My eyes grew wide with fear. Worst place to be during a blackout.

I grabbed for my flashlight and shined it down the hall. This place strangely felt more closed while covered in a black blanket.

I got up and walked down the hall. I walked towards the basement door. I dread going down there even when it’s day time. Shuddering I opened the door. As I descended the metal stairs, my footsteps echoed. It was like a beat was being made. I finally reached the bottom.

The humming sound of machinery was all I could hear. I shook off every bit of fear and walked towards the box. I flipped it on and voila! Lights are back on. I dashed back up the stairs and sprinted my desk.

I breathed in a sigh of relief. Looking down the halls I got up and headed back to cell 109.

“Hey, Jeff. Are you okay?”

Silence.

“I’m fine. What happened to the lights?”

“Power went out.”

“A true shame. I like the dark.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, how did you end up here?”

Silence.

I started to walk away when he spoke.

“Those…bullies. Haha. They thought they could push me around. I showed them no mercy. There was so much fire, pain. My skin turned white. My hair black. My new face….went so perfect with me! I…I couldn’t stop looking at it.

“Hahaha, I got tired, my eyes are forever open now. I’m always smiling too! Haha, mother and father didn’t like my new face… I…I cut them. My brother…I killed him too. I didn’t mean to… The thought of killing just….haha it just drives me insane!”

I was sitting with my legs crossed. Was I actually having a conversation with this psycho?

“How…how did you get here…David?” asked Jeff.

“After my mom died, my father beat me. One night while he was sleeping, I ducted taped him down and cut his fingers and limbs off one by one,” I said.

I heard Jeff laughing.

“Feels nice doesn’t it? Feeling the bones snap and flesh just slide past the blade.”

“I’ll admit it felt nice.”

I can’t call myself a psycho. My dad had it coming. I suddenly heard Jeff laughing hysterically.

“You… Haha, you think you’re safe out there? You’re surrounded by a bunch of insane fuckers.”

I looked around. He’s right.

“Well, I gotta get back to work. I’ll talk to you in a bit, Jeff,” I said.

“Hahahaha, I’m sure you will haha.”

I got up and headed back to my desk. 3:00. Two more hours. Mouthing my head I closed my eyes for a few minutes. I shot awake and it was pitch black. I groaned and got my flashlight.

I noticed the basement door was open. Did I forget to close it? I felt a sense of fear, anxiety. Quickly I jogged down to cell 109. The door was standing wide open. Fear gripped my body. I slowly went in and looked around. All over the walls was blood.

The sentence “Go to sleep” was written all over. Even on the floor. I looked down the hall to see the other cell doors open. I ran down the hall and checked every room. Every room was the same. Dead bodies with a smile carved in their cheeks.

I screamed at the sight. That’s when I heard it. The laugh.

I quickly made a dash back to my desk. Jumping under it and took deep breaths. There was no calming down in this situation.

Suddenly I heard footsteps. I held my breath and listened. The footsteps grew louder and louder. They were near the desk, suddenly a horrid scraping sound erupted. The sound of a knife on wood. The sound made my hairs stand on end.

It stopped. I froze and listened. No footsteps, no breathing. Just silence.

I slowly moved out only to be face to face with two pairs of cold black eyes. His face was white, lips red, a smile. A smile carved in his cheeks. I screamed at the top of my lungs.

“I thank you for talking to me. Unfortunately, I can’t stay long. So I guess it’s time for you to go to sleep.” He laughed.

I screamed one last time before I felt the blade slice into my cheeks. I pushed him away and ran into the basement.

Fuck! The first door I touched, it had to be the damn basement. I ran down and hit at the bottom.

���Clang, clang, clang’ Jeff’s footsteps echoed throughout the basement. I moved towards the pipes. I put my hand to my cheek. He only cut them a little bit. They still burned.

Closing my eyes I tried to relax. It had to of been 4:20 I just have to hide for 40 minutes. Or at least stay alive. I heard his footsteps slowly approaching my spot. I opened my eyes and felt hot breath against my face.

“Found you!”

A hand shot out and grabbed my hair. Slowly he dragged my face to the pipes. I screamed as my skin melted. Pulling away I crawled out of my hiding spot.

Jeff grabbed my ankle and pulled me towards him. My nails peeled off as I desperately tried to claw for something to hold.

He flipped me around and stabbed my chest. I slowly felt his blade penetrate my heart. The pain is extreme. I took one last look at him and heard nothing but, “Go to sleep.”

#jeff the killer #creepypasta #fanfiction #jtk #horror #story

[junoscrybeofshadows]

Gone From Her Sight

(Hello everyone! So anon sent me an ask about Juno's eyes, and after drawing and typing up the answer for that ask I got the idea to write a quick story about how she got the scars that cover her left eye. This story is more on the angsty side so as such I will be putting Trigger warning tags on this for those who are sensitive to the topics depicted in the story. But if you are okay with the TW Tags then I present to you the story of how Juno got her scars Enjoy!)

--Misty

If your interested in the ask that inspired this story you can find it Here

TW: Self Harm, Eye gore and Gore!!!!

She couldn’t stop seeing it..No matter where she went it was always there! Flickering in and out of existence its information taunting her constantly as they flashed in the corners of her visions. Mocking her for not paying it attention, scolding her for not using it the same way the others have. She couldn’t stop seeing it..The OLD_DATA… How many days has it been since she first laid her eyes on it? Twelve, right? No…Three? Maybe longer? At this pointing she wasn’t certain. The days were blending together far too much nowadays. Even if it had only been a handful of them. Every day felt the same to her now; it felt as if she was still in that dark void, staring at that piece of glitching data it’s contents haunting her every hour of everyday. She could live with that; that much she knew but what she couldn’t handle was how no one else knew it was there..Or how no one could see it like she could.

She sought the WoodCarver and the Mycologist for help. The bonelord had recommended seeing them if she ever had any questions about the data, if he was unreachable for one reason or another. They were only of little help. They knew of the OLD_DATA, they could access it with ease just like she could; locking it deep down in the depths keeping it hidden from the world..but neither of them could see it the way she did. They couldn’t look through the cracks, through the shadows like she could..they couldn’t see it. Only she could. And the thought was maddening.

“Why? Why me? WHY ME!!!” Her home was torn in a storm of disarray, anger and insanity. She kept the lights on even during the day trying to rid her surroundings of as many shadows as she could. She even spent all of the daytime outside walking through fields where her shadows could not reach her beyond the thin one her parasol made. She couldn’t bare seeing it again; it would only make her guilt grow and her regret heavier than it already was. “I never wanted to know about it! I never needed to know about it!! How could something like that be hidden in my shadows? WHY WON’T IT LEAVE ME ALONE!?”

She forgo her duties long ago, her hands were far to shaky to hold her pen long enough to inscribe anything. Her nightly walks became a distant memory as her fear kept her imprisoned in her own home to afraid to visit her fellow scrybes in fear that she would see the that data flickering in the shadows of their domains. Her health was declining both mentally and physically. Her stomach growls at her in anger, pleading for even the smallest scrap of food but all she feeds it is air and the occasional sips of water.

Her body ached from her constant moving as she refused to stop moving for even the shortest of seconds. Her hair was disheveled and she was certain she had worn the same dress for a week now. She didn’t care though; she was to distraught to care.. That was until she started to loose control on her form. Her wings sprouted from her back uncontrollably whenever she felt her knees buckle beneath her as her once rounded nails sharpen into animalistic claws that torn off the wall paper whenever she drags her hand against it. Her mind a constant shouting war between her resolve and her emotions left her with a pounding headache as it relayed the information she was already seeing in the shadows she called home..She couldn’t take it anymore. She couldn’t handle it any more, She couldn’t bare seeing it any more!

“PLEASE!!!” She screeches at the shadows of her room her hands clutching at her scalp, nails digging into her skull..and her eyes flooding with tears. “Just leave me be! I refuse to use you! I refuse to acknowledge you further!! So please just leave my sights already!!”

…..The OLD_DATA flickers out of existence…the messages..the pictures..they stop flickering..She peaks at the shadow in the corner of the room..Nothing. She checks the other corner..nothing.. Was it gone? That is what she desperately hoped, surely it had finally given up- Oh no.

She turns towards the back wall of her room, her heart dropped. It was brighter now, much brighter and was flashing more violently red REDACTED signs glowing in a foreboding hue of crimson that sends a chill down her spine. Another piece of data appears to her left, the her right, above her, below her, each one glitching so frantically that she could hear the sound of static flooding her ear drums so loudly her ears begin to ring in pain. She screams in agony but its drowned out by the sound of static. Her vision was filled with nothing but flashing lights blinding her more than the blistering light of the sun that shined each and every day. The hum of the OLD_DATA was mind numbing, as it screeches at her wanting her to tell the world its story, its creation its demands grow so great that the whole room began to glitch as she collapses to the floor. She couldn’t take it anymore.

“NO NO STOP IT STOP IT!!!!” Her screams are still swallowed by static, the pounding in her skull only got worse. There had to be away to stop this, away for her to stop hearing it, to stop seeing- A thought flashes through her mind for a split second, it only lasted for the briefest of moments..but that was enough as she settles her gaze down at her hands..Her claws..

Its going to hurt. Is what her brain tells her but she doesn’t care anymore. This needed to end. A single ribbon is enough to tie her hair back to keep her face free of it. Twisted determination steadies her hand as she raises it to her face; and adrenaline gives her enough strength to slash at her own flesh. Her claws dug in deep, she could feel them slicing through skin and tissue with ease as she drags them down across the left side of her face. The smell of iron fills her nose as the vision grows a deep crimson color before blurring and fading to black. She feels parts of her coding get cleaved with the slash but her eye remains in it’s socket though incredibly damaged..The pain was unbearable..it hurt more than the throbbing in her skull but it only lasted for a few moments..

The static grows quiet..softer..and softer..until it was gone..flickering lights steadied into a single source before fading away from view bit by bit. Tears and blood makes it hard to take notice to it from first as all she could focus on was her own self inflicted injury her hand cradling her bloodied and gashed face till the pain finally subsided. It took a minute for it to fade, though the darkness in her left eye never went away. Her right eye though flickers open dotted with tears as she looks up at the wall..only to find nothing but pictures she’s painted lining its wall paper covered surface. She turns her head to the left; nothing, she turns to the right;..nothing. She sits there waiting for something to happen..for the static to return but nothing..it was gone..but the moment is short lived as her eye stings with pain once again..She needed to treat this.

A few sutures, some gauze and medical tape do a decent job of patching up the injury and a pain killer frees her from pain..but the realization of what she did weighs down her shoulders as she lies in her bed; staring up at the ceiling..What would the other’s say if they find out about this? Will they be worried? Or Angry? Would they pity her? Or hate her? She was not certain..but she knew none of them could know. Not Bernard, not Alder, Not Leshy, P03, Magnificus, Grimora, None of them could know..and none of them will. She’d have to lie low until the wounds heal, and she’d have to find some way to cover them up but that would be easy..getting use to having only one eye would be difficult however..her work would definitely be hindered for a while till she can adjust but it would be worth it.. Though the initial action hurt..she could live with the consequences; for although she lost an eye, she finally found herself at peace; free with nothing but her thoughts.

As the flickering glimpses of the OLD_DATA were finally gone from her sights.

#mistytalks #mistystory #Tw self harm #tw eye gore #tw gore #juno scrybe of shadows #inscryption #inscryption oc #scrybe oc #scrybesona

[simonsrosebud]

a hurt/comfort where dalton comforts kevin? lots of fluff pls :)

kevin is a big advocate on being healthy and getting help when you’re hurt.

even mental health, just… not really his own.

he’s got enough shit up in his head that he pushes to the side, and is still struggling to deal with.  not sifting through it is just easier than digging back in, in his opinion.

but that just means that when he crashes, it’s harder.

and he crashes hard after the incident with the moriyama’s shoving him and dalton into separate cars.  it just… it fucks with him more than it should, especially since he’s been through worse.

he’s been practically living with dalton for the past few weeks.  they’ve grown even closer, physically, because it was quite the scare.

kevin goes on a run one day when his mind is really beating him up.  it’s not a great idea, because he’s already distracted and stressed and he knows he’s had an anxiety attack building all morning.  he can’t help it.  the thought of graduating and moving away from everyone and dalton in two weeks, and after the moriyama run in… it scares him.

and trips on an uneven slab of the sidewalk.  he cradles his hands on instinct and scrapes open his knee and elbow.

his fingers get a little bloody as he tries wiping the beads of blood away, but they’re a little deeper than that.

he wipes his hands on his shirt, and then he wipes sweat from his face with his arm.

which is how he notices that his arm is bleeding from somewhere- oh, okay, busted open elbow and a scrape on his forearm.

“fuck.”  he takes his shirt off and holds it against his elbow. 

dalton’s going to have a heart attack.

he walks back to dalton’s apartment, and he knows that he looks insane.  he has dry and probably fresh blood dripping down his leg, and a bloody tshirt held against a bleeding arm.  and he isn’t hurt, besides the burn of the feeling of his skin ripped off- dramatic, he knows.

he kicks the door open after getting his key in.  “hey, d?”  he calls.  “not to alarm-“

“oh my god!”  dalton rushes to the kitchen and wets a wad of paper towels.  “where-where is this coming from?!”  he’s frantically looking kevin up and down, and kevin holds his elbow out.

“i just tripped,” he says, and swallows.  he knows he shouldn’t but he’s trying to push his incoming panic attack further down than he has on the walk back.  he doesn’t want dalton worrying even more when he already came back looking like this.

kevin sits up on the kitchen counter next to the sink so dalton can help wipe the drying blood from his cheek and knee.

dalton sees the way kevin’s knuckles are white where they’re gripping the edge of the counter.  he stops.  “hey, are you okay?”

kevin hesitates.  no, he’s not.  he’s on the edge of a panic attack because he doesn’t know how much longer he can push it down.  and there’s no lying to dalton, of all people.  “you-you wouldn’t believe me if i said i was fine, would you?”

dalton steps forward between kevin’s thighs and wraps his arms around him.  kevin drops his forehead against his shoulder.  “you haven’t been fine in a long time.  and that’s okay.”

kevin takes a shaky breath.  he presses his face further into dalton’s neck and inhales shakily.  “i hate feeling like this.”

dalton holds him tighter when he feels a tear drop on his skin.  “i know.”

kevin grips dalton’s hoodie until his knuckles are white.  his heart is beating so fast.  “i’m having a panic attack,” he whispers.

you’re fine.  

he feels like he’s choking to get a breath.  your throat isn’t closing up.  you’re fine.

dalton pulls him from the counter and sinks back against the fridge.  he pulls kevin down to sit back against his chest and wraps his arms around his shaking boyfriend, almost in a bear hug.

kevin leans his head back against dalton’s chest.  “you’re okay.”

i’m okay.  my fingers are tingling, and i can’t breathe, and i feel like overheated like the sun is beating down on me.  but i’m fine.  i’m okay.

dalton kisses the back of kevin’s head.  “i love you, kev.  you’re okay, i’m here.”

“yeah,” he breathes out.

it takes ten minutes until kevin can acknowledge that he’s calmed down, and until he’s okay enough to go lax in dalton’s arms and close his eyes.

“i’m okay.”  he’s always drained after panic attacks, and this is no exception.  he grips dalton’s hand and follows him into bed, and dalton bear hugs him into the mattress.  “thank you.”

dalton hums.  “always.”

#kevin day #bisexual kevin day #kevin #the one where someone doesn’t know who kevin day is #OC: dalton miller #dalton miller #kevin day x dalton miller #exy #aftg #all for the game #the foxhole court #the foxes

[gooferdusted]

hypothetically, if I were to write a fix-it/rewrite au fic, (thinking of starting at s5 but debating starting earlier) what are some storylines you’d take out/change, characters you’d save/kill, and specifically changes to sam’s character/arcs you’d like bc i need ideas

ok. ok. I'm gonna try to not go completely off the fucking rails while I write this up but I gotchu (also these r all just my own hot n spicy takes so like. pick what u like, it's all goodie goodie)

• no time passing differently in hell. literally four months is ~Enough!~ a year is enougghh!!!!!! like I get that they wanted to make hell this horrible unreachable thing but u can still like... get that across without having it be this unfathomable chunk of time out of a persons life. like sam was down there with TWO very pissed off angel's for 180 years??? how can he still speak english??? how does dean remember ANYTHING about his old life when mentally more than half of it was spent being endlessly tortured until he finally cracked??? its just.... Too Much...

• ON that note, I feel like later on they never rlly had sam and dean bond over the fact that like... they are genuinely the ONLY two people on earth who have survived actual hell. I mean we got that one off line from dean at some point but??

• no chuck as god. just a greasy greasy rat man getting insane stories projected into his brain. and on the topic of that.... I dont like the reflection of the real life fanbase in the spn universe??? they're pulp fiction novels, it should be all like 50 year old + ladies who picked them up at the local bargain bin, not b*cky r*sen

• I like... WANNA say smth abt s4..... bc I think the way that they handled things were a little out of character BUT I also think that was lind of the point??? like the angels and demons were manipulating them to say/do things they would normally never say/do to eachother to drive a big enough wedge between then that they would eventually say yes to being the vessels. like it hurts to watch sooo much but it did drive the plot forward in a very particular way that probably couldnt have happened otherwise. that being said, when the levee breaks makes me sad, and I dont want to see sam crying for his dead mother alone in a basement! cest la vie.

• sam and dean.... are Friends...,, why did we all forget that..... watch hell house and maybe I'll calm down.....

• PSYCHIC SAM!!!!!! you all know me. you know how I feel about psychic sam... robbed. s4 finale rlly had sam like "drinking that much demon blood has truly changed me forever..... theres no going back now...... 😔😔" like ok. ok. where are your superpowers. where are they.

• I wish some of the other special children had made it out :(( I really liked andy and ava (also sam finding other friend who are like him??? queer allegory??? spare queer allegory?????)

• I also dont think the roadhouse shouldve burned down!!! that shouldve been a Staple Location like Bobby's house. same w Missouri's, literally why did we only visit her once.

• ur sending an ask to my blog so I assume this is just a given for u but!!! we're takin away the misogyny. we're takin away the fetishization! anything that would be given the greenlight by joss whedon we are putting straight in the trash. <3

• this is mostly a thing in later seasons like. idk 9-15, but no ppl knowing who the winchesters are. they are NOBODIES. they pop up like little meerkats and fuck everything up beyond repair.

• also no fancy tech. no iphone 76z or whatever the fuck. sam has an ipod 1. the wheel is so stuck he can barely press play anymore. remember when he literally just tore off the top casing off his laptop and threw it away? more of that.

• no nice clothes. NO nice clothes we fuckin hate that. everything sam and dean own was purchased pre 1995 and dean is an expert at removing blood stains and sewing up jackets. dean will walk into a laundromat with a tide pen and just start goin for it like that scene in deadpool.

• tbh.... I feel like the issues in later seasons are really this massive horrible domino effect. like I could say heres how to fix s7-10 but the fact is if shit hadnt gone down lile it had in s7 s10 would be a different story entirely.

• I am gonna do it tho bc I suck <3

• s6: soulless sam was funney but did that really go anywhere? no. tbh I dont remember what happened w cas and I'm just not going to look it up. it's just not in the cards for tonight. dean w lisa.... ehh.... I've discussed this at wayy too much length w mushroom and we both agreed that dean would probably keep hunting to keep his mind off things and to try and honor sams sacrifice. I guess theres an argument to be made for the fact that it kind of was Sam's dying wish that dean just go fin her and live a normal life but... idk. purgatory was. . indeed a Concept..... that could have maybe gone somewhere if it didnt rapidly spiral into....

• s7!!! I mean. jesus christ. I know some people like this one but jesus christ. the way they literally couldnt commit to having sam have genuine mental health problems after centuries in hell or to just magically wipe them away..... bobby dying halfway thru.... charlie was a bright spot I suppose, but her intro is not my fave episode w her.... idk what the fuck happened w cas, I guess he was god. the leviathan designs were kinda neat but like oh my fucking god it wasnt worth it.

• s8: uh. rough start. idk why the turn tables so suddenly and dean's like "why didnt u look for me >:((" bc??? yall agreed not to???? at the VERY least they couldve had sam been like "I legitimately had no reason to think u werent dead and in heaven and tha wouldve been a little rude of me to pull u out of that." but we went for ~drama~ to make it spicy I guess. ouygh. bunkers there!!! that was cool!!! MoL is a cool concept!!! altho... it doesn kinda contradict the whole sam and dean are nobodies thing... idk. trials of hell was like... cool in theory but bad in practice unless they were planning on ending the show for realskies. and they did not.

• s9: uhh... hated gadreel! hated that shit! wish they had spun that whole storyline to be more "hey sam I noticed u were s*icidal should we maybe address that??" or even like.... I mean dean probably couldve just TOLD sam abt his plan, he had already convinced him to stay alive by that point??? there was no reason to lie!!! plus the betrayal of gadreel not being who he said he was wouldve been like. literally enough drama, we didnt need to fracture the team again. and cas was??? where exactly??? be was human for at least half of that season but hey didnt know what to do w him so they chucked him in a convenience store??? good lord.

• s10: got no suggestions for that one, just toss it

• s11: ok... shes cute.... we can forgive her.... the lore is shaky at best but the episodes SLAP and the characterization is *chefs kiss*. it's been a hot minute since I've seen it so if smth sucked I dont remember and I plan to keep it that way!!!!

• s12: n.. no. no mary. no mary unless we're doing it right. and I promise u doing it right was not poorly ripping off kingsman. couldve brought back bobby!!! if they desperately wanted some drama couldve brought back john!!! actually fuck that, no way

• s13-15: no thoughts, only jack kline <3

#holy fuck im so sorry <3 #shut up cereal #asks #long post #spn critical #hate tagging my posts as that bc i dont wanna b one of ~Those~ but i dont want ppl coming after me 4 this #theres probably like 100000 things i forgot!!! feel free to add ur own!!!! #there are some seasons i only ever watched once very very long ago.... #and tbh classic spn is the freshest in my mind so im focusing on her #spn #supernatural

[alarriefantasy]

                                 Halloween Fic Rec 2019

Demon

Trade Mistakes by ifancylou, Taayjaay

Words: 3k

Harry summons a crossroads demon without realizing that he'd be giving up his soul in exchange for the deal. He offers the demon something a little different instead.

Demons by CarlyLovesLarry

Words: 4k

or where Harry is a demon and Louis is a hunter, and Harry fuck Louis into oblivion  

Sealed With A Kiss by ty_madison

Words: 6k

Harry has been having dreams about a boy, every night since he turned sixteen and everytime he has opened his eyes in the past the boy has disappeared. But now he is awake, the boy is here and he has a deal to make with the innocent Harry.

Paper Planes by cathedralhearts

Words: 7k

Louis sold his soul to the Devil when he was sixteen, tear-stained and miserable, grief wracking his body as the doctors told him his mother had days to live. Lucifer prefers to go by the name Harry, wears Louis’ soul around his neck as a pendant, and spends the next five years following him around.

Shadow Holding Me Hostage by scribblewrite

Words: 26k

Harry's a demon, basically the king of hell and the source of all evil, and he needs an heir. Louis's a normal human, unsuspecting of what's in store for him.

The Devil's Angel by lilacsweaters_ivorylilies

Words: 86k

Ezekiel 28:13 - For Lucifer has been in Eden the garden of God; every precious stone was his covering, the sardius, topaz, and the diamond, the beryl, the onyx, and the jasper, the sapphire, the emerald, and the carbuncle, and gold: the workmanship of his tabrets and of his pipes was prepared in him in the day that he was created. 

Fantasy/Supernatural

got me losing every breath (i'm latching onto you) by kissingiscool

Words: 14k

(or an au where louis is a fairy with a fear of thunderstorms and a talent of knitting and harry is a vet with three cats and a lot of love.)

A Love So True You Don't Have To Be Afraid by homosociallyyours

Words: 14k

In a world long ago but not so far away, where true love is valued above all else, Louis and Harry have already found one another. Their lives are shaken by the arrival of Simon, whose heart is more than a bit shit, and who longs to sow unhappiness.

When Louis is changed into a dragon and Harry is the knight meant to vanquish him, it would appear that Simon has succeeded. But love wins, every time.

Waiting For Someone Who Needs Me by graceling_in_a_suit

Words: 17k

AU: Harry is a genie, and Louis doesn't think he needs anything.

The Prince Of Light by jacaranda_bloom

Words: 35k

Louis was found abandoned at a hospital at six months old and adopted by an older couple who raised him. Now twenty, he studies by night and by day works as a live-in au pair for a family with three little girls. One of the girls, Holly, swears there is a Garden Fairy coming and eating treats she leaves out in the cubby house each night.

When the family goes away for a two week holiday, Louis is secretly tasked with feeding the Fairy. While laying out the food one night he falls from the cubby house and is found by Harry. Harry is different and Louis is fascinated. But as Louis learns how different Harry really is, he discovers his own true home and a very surprising past he never knew.

Cue badgers, bananas and cookies, soulmates, a whole other world, and a future he’d never imagined.

like cabbages and kings by you_explode

Words: 60k

When Louis was a kid, he had a series of very vivid dreams about a place called Wonderland. There were rabbits wearing waistcoats and talking cats and ridiculous tea parties, and amidst all the absurdity, there was a boy. A boy with dimples, big green eyes and the sweetest soul Louis has ever known. Louis has always kept a place in his heart for that boy and for his funny dreamworld, and when he’s twenty-five and his life falls apart, it turns out Wonderland might not be so imaginary after all.

there's no fair in farewell by we_are_the_same

Words: 218k

When Harry and Louis, two Cupids who have been bringing people together for decades, are tasked with making Soulmates Liam and Zayn fall in love, it proves to be much harder than expected. But maybe, just maybe, that isn’t such a bad thing after all.

Ghost

The Haunting of Louis Tomlinson by HelloAmHere

Words: 31k

OR: Louis is a plucky Gothic Heroine, Harry is a Mournful Spirit, and Big Country Houses are full of mystery and suspense, as Big Country Houses ever are!

Close to Nowhere by angelichl

Words: 34k

Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.

you look so good in blue by patdkitten

Words: 20k

Or: Harry Styles hears about a perfect flat from his roommate Zayn's boyfriends and decides to sign the lease. The only problem is: the flat has a reputation for being haunted. It certainly doesn't help that Harry's cat is seeing things as soon as they move in...

The Case Of The (Definitely Not Haunted) Styles Mansion by BriaMaria

Words: 40k

Or the Nancy Drew AU where Marcel is a man of logic, Louis is a private detective who believes in ghosts, and the Styles Mansion is definitely, absolutely, positively *not* haunted.

Tied to Fate by littlelouishiccups

Words: 52k

After his estranged father’s death, Harry inherits a castle in England that has belonged to his family for generations and he knows nothing about. When he breaks up with his boyfriend, Harry decides England is the perfect place for a small vacation. He isn’t prepared to meet Louis Tomlinson, a ghost who once lived in the castle and has haunted it for over five hundred years. He’s even more unprepared to fall in love with him.

Through Eerie Chaos by MediaWhore

Words: 102k

The Ghost Hunter AU where Niall lives to prove ghosts are real, Zayn is a skeptical librarian and Harry gets caught up in a century-old mystery and catches feeling in the process

Halloween Themed

Trick-or-Treat (Cheer Up) by writingstylinson 

Words: 2k

Louis Tomlinson is the single father of a little girl named Finnley, and they’ve been living in Holmes Chapel for a year. This Halloween is the first one they will be celebrating without Louis’ younger siblings or his own mother. It’s because of this that his daughter, who is usually outgoing and fearless, starts to have some worries about going trick-or-treating alone with her father.

Then Louis comes up with the perfect solution.

This is Halloween, everybody make a scene by allwaswell16

Words: 2k

When Louis takes his son trick-or-treating in a stormtrooper costume, little does he know by the end of the night he will end up gaining a Luke Skywalker, a Chewbacca, and a Rey. He doesn't mind the additions, and if Rey's very hot dad wants to come along as well, he doesn't mind that too much either.

this kitten's got your tongue tied in knots by ballsdeepinjesus

Words: 3k

[it's halloween, harry is a kitten in a tree and louis is a (fake) firefighter.]

A gold and green Halloween by Tita

Words: 8k

Harry and Louis are strangers who, dressed as Drarry, compete on a Halloween couple's costume contest. It's exactly as much of a mess as it sounds.

Black Cats Steal Hearts, Not Souls by SLD24

Words: 9k

Harry finds a kitten in a pumpkin patch the day before Halloween but it turns out not to be a kitten at all.

Horror

All The Songs That You Sing In The Dark by pukeandcry

Words: 10k

What happened was that first people got sick.

What happened after that was that they died.

But the worst thing was what happened after that. After they died, they came back.

The Skeleton Key by photo41

Words: 18k

Harry Styles, a good-natured nurse living in Manchester, quits his job at a hospice to work for Violet Winston, an elderly woman whose husband, Ben, is in poor health following a stroke.

When Harry begins to explore the couple's rundown mansion, he discovers strange artifacts and learns the house has a mysterious past. As he continues to investigate, he realizes that Violet is keeping a sinister secret about the cause of Ben's illness- and tries to convince the Winston's estate lawyer, Louis Tomlinson, that he really isn't going insane.

Loosely based off the movie of the same name.

Insane by prideinlou

Words: 20k

Or in which Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles are two dim-witted, drunk teenage boys that take a Halloween night dare too far, and end up in a life or death situation in the clutches of a haunted mental asylum.

Will they make it out alive... or will they go insane?

Mermaid

seaside improvisation by tinyweirdloves

Words: 6k

[harry is a mermaid who has lost his tail and he lives in louis's bathtub for a month.]

at least as deep as the pacific ocean (i wanna be yours) by writtensoul 

Words: 9k

louis is the very entitled prince of the seven seas!! harry is a goofy sailor boy!!! a lot of hijinks ensue involving slippery mermaid tails and happy fun little sea creatures!!

Define Dancing by asphodelknox 

Words: 20k

Death has a way of making certain things crystal clear. After Jay’s death, Louis returns to the summer cottage he always considered home. Unbeknownst to him, he’s also returning to the merman who has been his best friend through everything and finds that maybe there’s a chance for more.

Don't Let the Tide Come and Take Me by kiwikero

Words: 28k

Or, the one where Louis decides to set a merman free and ends up finding his own freedom along the way.

Still Deep In Us by graceling_in_a_suit

Words: 41k

AU. The village Harry has called home his entire life sits on six shaky legs, held aloft from the ocean which claimed the entire world twenty years ago. Harry's just a grieving tinkerer trying to do his best, and Louis is a mermaid that ruins The Village's delicate balance of power (and perhaps, just maybe, wins the heart of a boy).

Pirates

Captain Harry Styles... And The Faerie by spaceboyharry

Words: 8k

“You have today been defeated. Remember this forever as the day you were bested by Captain Harry Styles.” Louis zoomed past, shouting “AND THE FAERIE!” I sighed, rolling my eyes. “And the bloody faerie.”

must be something in the water by hattalove

Words: 3k

They all remember, somewhere deep down, why they gave up everything they had for the Mermaid.

The last vestiges of kindness and bravery and everything that is good in the world are on board that ship. Louis’s heart is on it, moored by some nameless jetty.

In Your Black Heart (Is Where You'll Find Me) by graceling_in_a_suit

Words: 35k

Louis Tomlinson has been lying for five years. His crew sees him as a pirate, a Captain, and an alpha; only two of those are the truth. He was content to let the illusion go on forever, but an omega named Harry Styles just had to join his crew and get his warm-vanilla stink all over Louis' best laid plans.Or: the story of The Captain and The Carpenter.

Si Pudiera Volar by messofgorgeouschaos

Words: 68k

When Harry’s fiancé leaves him for his cousin, he looks the other way for the sake of his happiness. He’ll do anything to forget about him, including joining a monastery. It isn’t until his cousin’s former lover, a pirate, appears that he realizes everything is not as it appears, and an honest pirate might be the only person worthy of his heart.

Or, a fic loosely based on Corazon Salvaje.

Vampire

Call Me the End of Your World by captainsftlouis

Words: 3k

or, the vampire AU where Louis is addicted to vampire venom, and Harry is addicted to Louis.

Waiting On You: A Christmas Drabble by emma1234

Words: 5k

On their first Christmas Eve as a couple, Louis and Harry decide it would be a great idea to exchange one special gift with one another to mark a new tradition. Of course, things never go as smoothly as they planned.

I Wanna Do Bad Things With You by lesbianphrodite

Words: 7k

Harry goes to his favorite pub with the intention to drink and feel bad for himself after a terrible break-up. Instead, he ends up hitting it off with a handsome vampire.

Forever And Always by jacaranda_bloom 

Words: 25k

OR the one where Harry’s neighbour is a crotchety old witch who hates vampires, Niall is the unsuspecting human who ends up inhabiting Harry’s body, and Louis is the caseworker who is assigned to swap them back. How it ends up a love story is anyone’s guess.

we should open up (before it's all too much) by disgruntledkittenface

Words: 43k

Struggling with grieving and depression since his dad died, Harry has never felt so alone. It’s too much to cope with on his own, but he feels like a burden when he tries to open up with people.

Then he meets Louis.

For You I'd Bleed Myself Dry by amomentoflove

Words: 49k

Harry is cold. His bones ache. Every movement draws a whimper from his cracked lips. The stone underneath him is practically like ice. He’s numb, but can clearly feel the sharp pains on his neck every timeHe visits him. Below the icy cold, the achy bones, and the pain on his neck, Harry Styles is pissed. There’s a fire burning in his mind and the anger for the man who keeps him imprisoned is the fuel. He despises him, the man who feeds from him and is a daily reminder that Harry’s suffering won’t end. The man who keeps Harry so weak that he can barely move most days. Harry’s waiting for the day when his owner will go too far and finally kill him. Death must be better than this cold hell he is in.

It won’t happen, though. He has a way of keeping Harry’s heart beating. So for now, all Harry can do is wait for death to come.

He’s been waiting for years.

Witches

what's inside your imagination (is as real as anything else) by suspendrs

Words: 3k

Or, Harry's a witch who likes to pretend he's a human pretending he's a witch, and Louis's the human in a not-so-clever costume that keeps catching his eye.

A Kind Of Magic by mellagreens

Words: 12k

Louis feels the urge to tell Harry he's in love with him.

Spellbound by lovelarry10

Words: 22k

Louis’ a shifter. Harry’s a witch. The only problem is, they’re hiding those things from each other.Will they be able to keep their secrets hidden at the most spooky time of year?

Call It True by abrighteryellow

Words: 48k

With dreams of being a successful novelist, Harry’s been working so hard that he almost doesn’t notice the smoothie shop that just opened down the street. But he can’t miss the mysterious, irresistible boy who works there, nor the strange but entirely positive effect his drinks seem to have. Harry needs to know what’s going on and he wants to get close to Louis, though not necessarily in that order.

A Spell and A Spark by dinosaursmate

Words: 73k

Louis is a teenage witch, living and attending university among mortals. He has to keep his secret whilst studying on both his degree and his witch's licence. His friends don't suspect a thing, even as spell after spell goes awry.

Our Place By The Moon by PearlyDewdrops

Words: 108k/WIP

Or: a late 90's urban fantasy AU in which Louis wants to befriend the strange boy next door, Harry is just trying to keep his family together, and falling in love is most inconvenient for a witch that may have accidentally reignited a centuries old curseꟷone that kinda messes with that.

#this is long #whoops #halloween fic rec #larry fic rec #larry fics #larry stylinson

[plums-from-the-icebox]

I’m feeling absolutely beyond dreadful as I recently received some of the most emotionally devastating news and I am really not fucking doing okay at the moment. I know this isn’t as cheery and optimistic as all my prior posts but I can’t act like I’m doing okay, I’m just simply not. The way my university handled the case of covid-19 has me absolutely beyond fuming in rage. The man in question, supposedly a 50+years old professor, who has already quarantined himself. Because of this, my university is starting their spring break two weeks early, classes for tomorrow and Friday are suspended, AND all student organization events are cancelled and or postponed until further notice. This is particularly crushing to me because I am involved into two very time-heavy-commitment things. I am involved in one of the biggest LGBTQ student orgs on my college’s campus and we had planned out numerous events , many of which were heavily advocacy-based and that’s just so genuinely upsetting because that’s something I and the rest of the people on the board have wanted to do for a long time because we wanted to do for such a long time. I am/was also in a play that was supposed to open next week. I heard my theatre group say they might put on some type of performance of it in some capacity since spent since literally December prepping for it. Which makes me feel awful because we all worked so fucking hard. I’ve spent so much time, energy, money, and labor and for what? For all of it to amount to fucking nothing??? What the fuck. Very important to mention: they tweeted this information BEFORE actually sending out an email to the general student body at my university which I genuinely feel is incredibly unprofessional and a major misstep on their part. Not only are they creating mass hysteria by giving students the most vague amount of information in regards to finances/in general, they also are contributing to the violent, massive amounts of racism and xenophobia that are directly harming Asian people, and especially East Asian people. Given the nature of all my classes being online as of right now until further notice starting the 23rd, that means I’ll more than likely have to be stuck at home in my apartment more often. I cannot begin to tell you how much I don’t want that to happen. As someone who has the horrible habit of severely socially reclusing himself when he’s insanely depressed (which I know WILL happen) I am literally afraid for the state of my already shaky mental state. Also, my roommate is problematic and toxic (yes I mean that in the genuine definition of the word) as all hell. She’s also racist,transphobic, emotionally immature and overall a really shitty person to live with/ be around and that thought of having to be there even more than before when I essentially relied on the spaces and activities at my university as an escape from my toxic home environment. And no, going back to my hometown is not an option for me either, because my mother is literally emotionally abusive and genuinely a toxic, awful person to be around for long periods of time which would also destroy my mental health. All around? It’s a lose-lose situation for me. Literally half my classes require in-class participation/discussion-based (including the last class needed to complete my minor) which more than likely, HIGHLY LIKELY, will have to further delay my graduation moreso than I currently have to (which originally was postponed to spring 2021 to complete my bachelors but who the fuck knows now) and I’m just already in such a rough space mentally and financially and I’m just really going through a genuine emotional crisis. I’m not doing okay, I can’t sugarcoat it. I haven’t felt this intensely dreadful and depressed in months. I literally broke down in tears in front of other people, something I rarely do anymore, for the first time in over a year so there’s that emotional weight too. It’s been sending me into an already further depressive spiral than I had unfortunately been experiencing thus far this year.Fuck today, truly. I am tired.

#cw: abuse mention #rant #DO NOT REBLOG

[jcmorgenstern]

@superohclair oh god okay please know these are all just incoherent ramblings so like, idk, please feel free to add on or ignore me if im just wildly off base but this is a bad summary of what ive been thinking about and also my first titans/batman meta?? (also, hi!)

okay so for the disclaimer round: I am not an actual cultural studies major, nor do I have an extensive background in looking at the police/military industrial complex in media. also my comics knowledge is pretty shaky and im a big noob(I recently got into titans, and before that was pretty ignorant of the dceu besides batman) so I’ll kind of focus in on the show and stuff im more familiar with and apologize in advance?. basically im just a semi-educated idiot with Opinions, anyone with more knowledge/expertise please jump in! this is literally just the bullshit I spat out incoherently off the top of my head. did i mention im a comics noob? because im a comics noob.

so on a general level, I think we can all agree that batman as a cultural force is somewhat on the conservative side, if not simply due to its age and commercial positioning in American culture. there are a lot of challenges and nuances to that and it’s definitely expanding and changing as DC tries to position itself in the way that will...make the most money, but all you have to do is take a gander through the different iterations of the stories in the comics and it’ll smack you in the fucking face. like compare the first iteration of Jason keeping kids out of drugs to the titans version and you’ve got to at least chuckle. at the end of the day, this is a story about a (white male) billionaire who fights crime.

to be fair, I’d argue the romanticization of the police isn’t as aggressive as it could be—they are most often presented as corrupt and incompetent. However, considering the main cop characters depicted like Jim Gordon, the guys in Gotham (it’s been a while since I saw it, sorry) are often the romanticized “good few” (and often or almost always white cis/het men), that’s on pretty shaky ground. I don’t have the background in the comics strong enough to make specific arguments, so I’ll cede the point to someone who does and disagrees, but having recently watched a show that deals excellently with police incompetence, racism, and brutality (7 Seconds on Netflix), I feel at the very least something is deeply missing. like, analysis of race wrt police brutality in any aspect at all whatsoever.

I think it can be compellingly read that batman does heavily play into the military/police industrial complex due to its takes on violence—just play the Arkham games for more than an hour and you’ll know what I mean. to be a little less vague, even though batman as a franchise valorizes “psychiatric treatment” and “nonviolence,” the entire game seems pretty aware it characterizes treatment as a madhouse and nonviolence as breaking someone’s back or neck magically without killing them because you’re a “good guy.” while it is definitely subversive that the franchise even considers these elements at all, they don’t always do a fantastic job living up to them.

and then when you consider the fetishization of tools of violence both in canon and in the fandom, it gets worse. same with prisons—if anything it dehumanizes people in prisons even more than like, cop shows in general, which is pretty impressive(ly bad). like there’s just no nuance afforded and arkham is generally glamorized. the fact that one of the inmates is a crocodile assassin, I will admit, does not help. im not really sure how to mitigate that when, again, one of the inmates is a crocodile assassin, but I think my point still stands. fuck you, killer croc. (im just kidding unfuck him or whatever)

not to take this on a Jason Todd tangent but I was thinking about it this afternoon and again when thinking about that cop scene again and in many ways he does serve as a challenge to both batman’s ideology as well as the ideology of the franchise in general. his depiction is always a bit of a sticking point and it’s always fascinating to me to see how any given adaptation handles it. like Jason’s “”street”” origin has become inseparable from his characterization as an angry, brash, violent kid, and that in itself reflects a whole host of cultural stereotypes that I might argue occasionally/often dip into racialized tropes (like just imagine if he wasn’t white, ok). red hood (a play on robin hood and the outlaws, as I just realized...today) is in my exposure/experience mostly depicted as a villain, but he challenges batman’s no-kill philosophy both on an ethical and practical level. every time the joker escapes he kills a whole score more of innocent people, let alone the other rogues—is it truly ethical to let him live or avoid killing him for the cost of one life and let others die?

moreover, batman’s ““blind”” faith in the justice system (prisons, publicly-funded asylum prisons, courts) is conveniently elided—the story usually ends when he drops bad guy of the day off at arkham or ties up the bad guys and lets the police come etc etc. part of this is obviously bc car chases are more cinematic than dry court procedurals, but there is an alternate universe where bruce wayne never becomes batman and instead advocates for the arkham warden to be replaced with someone competent and the system overhauled, or in programs encouraging a more diverse and educated police force, or even into social welfare programs. (I am vaguely aware this is sometimes/often part of canon, but I don’t think it’s fair to say it’s the main focus. and again, I get it’s not nearly as cinematic).

overall, I think the most frustrating thing about the batman franchise or at least what I’ve seen or read of it is that while it does attempt to deal with corruption and injustice at all levels of the criminal justice system/government, it does so either by treating it as “just how life is” or having Dick or Jim Gordon or whoever the fuckjust wipe it out by “eliminating the dirty cops,” completely ignoring the non-fantasy ways these problems are dealt with in real life. it just isn’t realistic. instead of putting restrictions on police violence or educating cops on how to use their weapons or putting work into eradicating the culture of racism and prejudice or god basically anything it’s just all cinematized into the “good few” triumphing over the bad...somehow. its always unsatisfying and ultimately feels like lip service to me, personally.

this also dovetails with the very frustrating way mental health/”insanity” or “madness” is dealt with in canon, very typical of mainstream fiction. like for example:“madness is like gravity, all it takes is a little push.” yikes, if by ‘push’ you mean significant life stressors, genetic load, and environemntal influences,  then sure. challenge any dudebro joker fanboy to explain exactly what combination of DSM disorders the joker has to explain his “””insanity””” and see what happens. (these are, in fact, my plans for this Friday evening. im a hit at parties).

anyway I do really want to wax poetic about that cop scene in 1x06 so im gonna do just that! honestly when I first saw that I immediately sat up like I’d sat on a fucking tack, my cultural studies senses were tingling. the whole “fuck batman” ethos of the show had already been interesting to me, esp in s1, when bruce was basically standing in for the baby boomers and dick being our millennial/GenX hero. I do think dick was explicitly intended to appeal to a millennial audience and embody the millennial ethos. By that logic, the tension between dick and Jason immediately struck me as allegorical (Jason constantly commenting on dick being old, outdated, using slang dick doesn’t understand and generally being full of youthful obnoxious fistbumping energy).

Even if subconsciously on the part of the writers, jason’s over-aggressive energy can be read as a commentary on genZ—seen by mainstream millennial/GenX audiences as taking things too far. Like, the cops in 1x06 could have been Nick Zucco’s hired men or idk pretty much anyone, yet they explicitly chose cops and even had Jason explain why he deliberately went after them for being cops so dick (cop) could judge him for it. his rationale? he was beaten up by cops on the street, so he’s returning the favor. he doesn’t have the focused “righteous” rage of batman or dick/nightwing towards valid targets, he just has rage at the world and specifically the system—framed here as unacceptable or fanatical. as if like, dressing up like a bat and punching people at night is, um, totally normal and uncontroversial.

on a slightly wider scope, the show seems to internally struggle with its own progressive ethos—on the one hand, they hire the wildly talented chellah man, but on the other hand they will likely kill him off soon. or they cast anna diop, drawing wrath from the loudly racist underbelly of fandom, but sideline her. perhaps it’s a genuine struggle, perhaps they simply don’t want to alienate the bigots in the fanbase, but the issue of cops stuck out to me when I was watching as an social issue where they explicitly came down on one side over the other. jason’s characterization is, I admit and appreciate, still nuanced, but I’d argue that’s literally just bc he’s a white guy and a fan favorite. cast an actor of color as Jason and see how fast fandom and the writer’s room turns on him.

anyway i don’t really have the place to speak about what an explicitly nonwhite!cop!dick grayson would look like, but I do think it would be a fascinating and exciting place to start in exploring and correcting the kind of vague and nebulous complaints i raise above. (edit: i should have made more clear, i mean in the show, which hasn’t dealt with dick’s heritage afaik). also, there’s something to be said about the cop vs detective thing but I don’t really have the brain juice or expertise to say it? anyway if you got this far i hope it was at least interesting and again pls jump in id love to hear other people’s takes!!

tldr i took two (2) cultural studies classes and have Opinions

#wow this was a hot fucking mess #i tried to be organized but my thoughts weren't coming out super well #again anyone interested please feel free to jump in or correct me at any place you feel like #i die on the ''jason todd would be treated horribly by fandom if he were a character of color' hill tho #i could go on about 1x06 until im blue in the face but that's the uhh overview. the executive summary. #dc titans #i need meta tags and shit for this show #god help me in too deep #finding the meta side of fandom was a GIFT tho i love this shit #so excited

[anaffolie]

not okay. (chaotic thoughts about bulimia and mental health)

There’s this thought in my head, which doesn’t seem real, but for some reason it won’t go away and I didn’t feel this way for a long time...”I want to die”. I even said that to my friend after we successfully finished our final exam, mid conversation I suddenly said “I just want to die”. I don’t think my best friend even gave it a second thought or made a mental note that I said that. I don’t blame her.

I am bulimic. There I said it. This is me typing and saying this words and making it real. Before this I would treat it as something I do...I have orthorexic tendencies, but it’s so stupid I will throw up a cookie because it’s unhealthy but will smoke. Judge me. I know that’s stupid. I work out, I care about myself, I want to live a long healthy life, but I smoke, stress myself out, and purge. This doesn’t make sense. Yet this is so unlike me, because everywhere else I’m A-type, I try to be the best friend, daughter, student, employee, girlfriend (when I used to have a bf...that’s a whole other story, abusive boyfriend who fucked me over, so cliche right?). I feel an incredible amount of pressure 24/7, even when I’m sleeping.

My thoughts are very unorganized, I am struggling a lot right now. I’m sorry if this doesn’t make any sense. This is the 7th day in a row that I’ve binged and purged. My insides are hurting, my throat is burning, my face is so pale and under-eyes are blue, bloodshot eyes, extra veiny hands..My old scars on my wrists tend to show up more for some reason and it’s hard to look at them. Bulimia is disgusting. Eating disorders shouldn’t be glorified. It’s literally gross.

My best friend who at the time had moved from the country while I was still back home (and not in the US) had come out to be about her bulimia. I did my best to support her, I was trying to help...But I didn’t understand it. Now I do. And she’s the only who knows, but I feel like she doesn’t get me either. Because we are still far apart from each other. But I’d expect her to be more supportive...She never said anything wrong, it’s just that whenever I had the courage to say something about my ED, or tell her that I’m not doing so well..I get a feeling that she doesn’t really want to talk to me, or hear me out..She probably has a lot on her plate and can’t be there for me at all times...I don’t know. It just sucks.

I had decided that I’ll be good today. I had a good start to my day. Went out to lunch with my friends (they are amazing, but I don’t know what a friend is at this point) after school, and I ate like a normal human being, stopped when I was full. Then I decided to go work out because it’s been a week already, but I ended up staying in because it was super windy outside I was cold and shaky, and the previous I had got caught in the rain, I was soaked and cold for hours since my commute from work back home takes literally two hours. That being said I was feeling very weak, headache, even a little feverish, so I didn’t ended up going to the gym. I went grocery shopping instead to keep myself busy.

My body image has been terrible lately. I’ve been heavier but I feel my heaviest. I hate my ankles, hated them even when I was underweight, they always take away from my legs looking thin no matter how much weight I lose. I thought lifting weights would help me gain confidence. It did not. I did it the intelligent way. But I developed arm muscles, my arms and shoulders were the only parts of my body that actually looked thin at the time, not anymore...ah whatever. My bulimia is not even about being skinny anymore, I’ve cried enough over how much I hate my body. I remember as a teenager just breaking down over my reflection, stretch marks, cellulite, blue veins on my fat pale legs, hair, ingrown hair, goose bumps, surgery scars...

Anxiety has been through the roof. Even if I’m being productive and working toward a certain goal, there’s always some other problem bugging my mind. I feel like I’m falling behind, missing out, disappointing everyone around me.  Like even right now I feel so guilty about writing this post instead of going through my emails, or looking for an internship (what’s the point of trying, no one wants a part time international student on an F-1 visa in NYC anyway right?), coming up with yet another plan on how to postpone my graduation to buy me some time to stay here for a little longer (I don’t wanna go back home, I don’t have a home anymore. I never had one). There are so many parasites in my head, I feel like I’m going insane. There is clearly something wrong with me, I type this and think what a fake ass fucking bitch I am. I was crying on the train the other day, it’s so hard for me to actually cry I get excited when tears come out of my eyes. I feel relief after crying, but that’s a luxury nowadays, I’m too numb emotionally.  Maybe if I keep writing this posts, I’ll go through every demon one by one... I just hope someone reads this, please let me know that you did...I’m just feel so alone in my struggles with ED, depression and bipolar, it’s really hard for me to write this. I feel fake even though I know this is not fake, this is what’s constantly on my mind.   

#not ok #depression #ed #buliima #my diary #ed diary #struggle #student #abusive #relationship #mental breakdown #mental health #bipolar #body image

[heartsofstrangers]

What has been one of the most challenging things you’ve experienced or are currently experiencing?

“Probably drug addiction.”

Tell me about that.

“Since I was fourteen years old, the first time I ever tried it, I’ve been intermittently addicted to crystal meth. The past four years, it’s been pretty consecutive other than the four months that I spent in jail two years ago. I guess that’s the gist of it.”

When did you start using it?

“I was about fourteen years old. I used to do it every other weekend with a group of shitty friends that I had made.”

What was going on in your life at that time?

“I had just lost my best friend, who was like my brother; we grew up together. He died from complications due to diabetes. I saw that they were using it and I had taken Adderall before. I thought it was like Adderall, except you could snort it or smoke it, and I thought that’s always fun. I recognized that they were carefree on it, and I wanted to be like that, so I did it.”

What was it like the first time you got high?

“It was sketchy and I was on edge. I don’t know if you’ve done any sort of upper, but it’s intense. It actually made me feel disgusting for a while. I felt really gross the entire time and then coming down was awful, but something inside me wanted to do it again, so I did. It disconnected me from the world. All that really mattered was scribbling on a piece of paper for hours on end. I guess it was really getting lost in reality.”

How did your life unfold—were you in school at that time?

“It kind of caused me to ‘fail out’ of high school; I didn’t drop out, but failed out pretty bad. I had to retake my sophomore year on the computer and graduated at the bottom of my class because of it, or the choices I made while on it. I don’t really know if I was in control or not then.”

You talked about jail—how did you end up there?

“I got arrested leaving a drug deal in June 2015 and then, after my parents bailed me out, I stopped going to court for the probation sentence and a year and a half later, they picked me up at my older brother’s apartment at 11:00 p.m. Six bounty hunters apprehended me and  then I spent the next four months in Montgomery County. I was there for Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve, Christmas, New Year’s Eve, New Year’s, and almost my birthday, all behind bars.”

What was that like?

“Honestly, it wasn’t that bad. It was pretty shitty and I was very confined. I was in a sixteen-man room for the most part. It was me and fifteen other people, all in a big-ass room full of bunk beds, having to stare at each other all day.”

Where did that lead you to mentally? Did you process anything in your mind about where you had been, where you wanted to go, where you were?

“I just wanted out. It kind of made me feel like an animal. In Texas, I don’t know what it’s like anywhere else, but you become state property when you’re incarcerated; you lose all your rights. Basically, you’re a body with a name. You’re not a human in there. It’s weird.”

How long ago was that?

“It was January 2017.”

Where did you end up when you were released?

“Back to my older brother’s, and he does dope too. I went right back to where I started, or stopped at midway.”

So, you were sober and clean in jail?

“Yes, while I was there.”

Did you go through withdrawal?

“I slept for the first four days. I didn’t eat or use the restroom; I just slept.”

So, you get out, move back in with your brother, and get right back into it?

“The night that I got out, I used.”

What’s your relationship like with your family, aside from your brother?

“I don’t talk to them, only whenever they speak to me and, even then, it’s usually just my mom, and it’s like once every two weeks, sometimes twice.”

What are those conversations like?

“I love you, I miss you. I love you too, I miss you too.”

Do they live locally?

“They live about two hours away.”

Do they kind of push you away due to your addiction?

“I alienated myself because I knew I’m not anyone a parent could be proud of—that’s how I feel. Because of my problem, and I don’t want them to see me like this and I won’t let them. So, I pushed myself away from them.”

Have you done that with close friends as well?

“I’ve done it with everyone.”

So, who are you associating with, dealers and other users?

“Yeah. I dated this dude for almost a year and he basically isolated himself away from me recently because of it. That really fucked me up a little bit because I feel like I put so much into it, but really it was just me high as hell, overthinking everything, all the time, slowly dissipating into nothing.”

It’s got to be a pretty lonely feeling to be that isolated.

“Yeah, but you’re never really alone when you’re a drug addict.”

Because you’re connecting with your substance.

“I’m perfectly fine with being alone, but I’m not okay with how lonely I am most times.”

Are you scared at all to continue down this path?

“Yeah, because I don’t know where my life’s going. So, I just get high and it’s like ‘where are you going now?’ to go get high.”

How can you afford to get high?

“My best friend sells it. My only friend just happens to be a drug dealer.”

Are you performing any sort of acts or anything in exchange?

“No, no, no; we’re just really good friends and misery loves company. He’s basically in the same spot I’m in.”

What are some of the things you’ve lost along the way through these years of addiction?

“Honestly, I lost my sanity, a lot of good friends, and a close tie with my family. I lost my car. I lost my license. Somehow I lost my social security card, but I don’t think that had anything to do with drugs. I lost my apartment, but that was at the beginning so that’s not a big deal.”

Where are you living now?

“I live with my friend, Pat, who is also a drug addict, but he’s a more functioning one, I should say. He’s held a job for four years and his addiction is kind of new and, ironically enough, I’m the first one he ever tried it with, which is kind of funny or fucked up.”

Have you ever been in any situations where you felt like your life was being threatened?

“No, not really. Not that I can think of, but I don’t know . . . no.”

How’s your judgment when you’re high?

“You can rationalize just about anything. For the most part, I would say it’s pretty good. There are dumb people who get addicted to drugs and there are people who are addicted to drugs who already have a good grip on reality and are able to make the right decisions or rational ones at least, but I’ve done some pretty stupid stuff.”

What are some of the stupid things that you’ve done?

“Not put the filter on a vacuum cleaner and small things like that. I’ve never done anything really stupid like rob anyone. I did, however, one time throw a brick through a window. I was super pissed off at the person who lived at the apartment and, in a fit of rage due to addiction or substance use, I picked up what was closest to me, which happed to be a chipped piece of concrete by the curb and chucked it threw the window. I don’t know how’s that going to fix it, but it made me feel better. It was really stupid.”

Prior to losing your friend, had you experienced any sort of obstacles early on in your life that taught you some coping skills to deal with grief, pain, or challenging experiences?

“To isolate; that��s all I’ve ever really known. Get over it and, if you can’t, shut up about it. That’s what I was basically taught.”

Do you want to stop?

“Yes and no. Crystal meth is the only thing that’s kept a roof over my head while, at the same time, it’s kept me on the edge of losing that. It’s the only thing that sort of keeps me connected with the real world because I have friends and acquaintances who use and who keep me from going insane living alone. At the same time, those people come and go. Those people aren’t necessarily friends you want to keep around; they’re people who are just going to bring you down because they’re going to keep you high. I’m aware of that but, at the same time, I can’t stop. So, yes and no. I was sober for about a month and moved to New Mexico with my ex. That didn’t turn out well, obviously. He flew me back here on a last-minute, overnight flight and I started using again.”

How old are you now?

“Twenty-four.”

So, you’ve been using for ten years?

“Just about.”

Any issues with your health?

“No, not that I know of. I probably have shaky hands, but so does everybody.”

Do you sleep?

“Yeah, every night, which is kind of an achievement really if you’re a crackhead like me. I’ve kind of plateaued. I’ve reached a level of tolerance that makes me have a normal sleeping schedule, which is something you really don’t want to be but, at the same time, I’m glad I’m there because now I’m normal-ish. I don’t look cracked out.”

What’s your biggest fear?

“Dying—not from drug use, though I guess that would suck too, but just dying in general, because I don’t know what’s going to happen after that. Maybe my biggest fear is actually not knowing and being unaware.”

In contrast, do you feel like you’re living?

“I feel like I’ve been dead since I was about twelve, but I don’t think that had anything to do with drugs, but the realization of how fucked up the world really is. I think I’m living in a way—I get to do shit that not everybody gets to do, like not have to work, I’m able to explore the city, and that’s what I do every day. I go to different parts of the city and sketch around, but I’m probably not really living, not in a way that’s (I guess) savory.”

Did you grow up here?

“No. I grew up two hours northeast, in a little town, Cold Springs, with about 900 people, and that’s consolidated because it’s a bunch of small towns put together.”

What brought you to Houston?

“Drugs. I bounced from circle of users to circle of users to circle of users until I ended up in Kingwood. Kingwood is right on the outskirts of Houston. I just migrated over here, made friends wherever I could, and now I’m here.”

When you agreed to do the interview, did you have any idea that you’d be talking about this?

“No, not at all. I honestly had no idea what it would be about. I was just like ‘an interview, okay, that’s fine.’ I thought maybe it was going to be ‘how do you feel about Houston’ or some sort of typical bullshit interview, but I didn’t think it would make me open my eyes to shit I’ve been closing them to or haven’t said out loud in a while. I’ve said this stuff before, ‘I don’t want to do this.’”

How does it feel to hear yourself expressing these things?

“It kind of pisses me off.”

In what way?  You’re pissed at yourself?

“Yeah, because I know I’m just going to go get high afterwards.”

Are you high now?

“No. I used, but I’m not high. I guess that’s high; I don’t really know. The last time I used was about six hours ago. I get high and then there’s other days where I just get by and, today, is a just a get by day because I didn’t do too much of it.”

What happens if you don’t use?

“I sleep and I’m dead to the world basically, which is probably what I am now, but in a different way because I’m asleep. I’ve slept for thirty-six hours straight before and my friends have asked if I had a bladder infection, and I said that I was good, just tired. When I woke up, I had muscular atrophy, where I couldn’t really feel much, and then I’d just waddle around until I found food, and then I was good.”

Would you say you’re depressed?

“Probably clinically. I used to take Pristiq, but it didn’t mix well with my meth use, so I cold turkey stopped taking it after about six months. It’s a serotonin replacement or something, but I thought it was kind of bullshit. I’ve been told before by friends that I’ve been manic; they would say ‘wow, you’re pretty manic’ and I’d say ‘yeah, I know.’”

Do you think you were like that before the drugs or has that manifested since?

“Half and half. I’ve always been kind of bipolar-ish, but this has really intensified it or brought it to a meniscus versus overflowing. If it was overflowed, I’d probably be in prison, but it’s definitely got to that point.”

What keeps you in that elevated state?

“Being aware that I’d probably go to prison, so to stay at a constant ‘that’s okay.’ It’s not necessarily the way anybody would want to live.”

What were you like as a child?

“I didn’t take ‘no’ as an answer. I wasn’t a spoiled brat or handed everything I wanted, but I didn’t have to ask for much. I never really had to go without anything. My parents weren’t wealthy, but they were comfortable, and have been that way as long as I can remember. For the most part, I’d say I was a pretty happy kid.”

How did you meet your friend who died?

“We were neighbors. He was like my brother. I don’t have close ties or close relationships with anybody like I did with him. He was the first person I could ever really say was my best friend. When you’re a kid, grandparents, aunts, uncles, parents’ and grandparents’ friends die, and  you say ‘oh, that’s sad.’ But, when your fourteen-year-old best friend dies, basically out of the blue, he just wakes up one morning and then he’s dead . . . That shit really happens, people die, people who you know die, people you’re close with die, and it’s hard. It sucks pretty bad, especially when you’re that young and you don’t really know how to take it in. You know how you’re supposed to take it in, you know how people do it, and you see it in movies, but there’s something inside of you that dies too, and you can’t wake it up. Josh was my best friend and was like a brother to me. We did just about everything together.”

What would you say to him if he was here now?

“That I’m sorry. I would tell him that I’m sorry because, at this point, I would have probably alienated myself from him too. I guess given if he had left and came back. Yeah, I would tell him that I was sorry because I’m sure he wouldn’t have wanted to see me like this.”

What do you think he would say to you?

“I don’t know. He’d probably call me an idiot, but I’m not sure.”

If you could go back to your twelve- or fourteen-year-old self in that time in your life, as the adult you are now, what would you say to that child?

“Don’t do it. You’re going to fuck up. Don’t do it, but that twelve- or fourteen-year-old probably wouldn’t listen anyway. He’d probably think that I was stupid because ‘no’ is not an answer and ‘don’t’ is not a reason.”

What were you passionate about at that age?

“I really liked art and liked to draw. I haven’t actually picked up a pen or pencil and drawn anything since I was about seventeen. My senior year of high school was a pretty heavy usage year. I was focused on doing that versus something that made me happy.”

How does it feel when you’re drawing or creating something?

“It’s instant gratification, kind of like vacuuming is to me now. I did it, it’s there, that’s something I did, it’s something I completed on my own, other people get to see it, I get to see it, know that it’s done, know that I did it, and I like it. It’s a successful feeling, but I haven’t felt that in a minute.”

Did you have any other outlets that you felt a connection to?

“I listened to music a lot. Even now, I listen to music all the time. I never played any instruments and I’m not really talented in any other way, but I like music.”

Do you write at all?

“No, not at all. I don’t even remember the last time I wrote something down. My handwriting probably looks like someone trying to write with their left hand. I’m not used to a pencil or pen; it’s unfamiliar.”

What’s the first thing you do in the morning when you wake up?

“I drink coffee sometimes; that or Coke, which is terrible for you. I eat, smoke a cigarette, and then smoke dope (I guess use).”

Have you ever felt hopeless and suicidal?

“Yes, at least twice a week. I feel like I’ve reached a point where there’s no way of turning around. I’m twenty-four years old and I already hold a drug possession felony. No one’s going to want to hire me, so I haven’t tried to look anymore. I have basically no friends, especially if I were to stop. My family and I aren’t really close and they don’t want to help me anyway. I feel like there’s not a good enough reason to want to keep living but, at the same time, I’m kind of too much of a pussy to kill myself.”

So, you’re just kind of slowly and passively doing it through using drugs every day and not taking care of yourself.

“Pretty much.”

Is this what you thought you’d be doing tonight?

“No. I knew I was going to be doing an interview, but didn’t think it would be such a reflective one.”

If there was someone else out there listening to this or reading this who could relate to where you are in your life and where you’ve been, and possibly feeling hopeless or numb, or even just alone, what message would you want them to hear and know?

“That they’re not alone. There are other people just as fucked up as you are. I have a really bad mouth, it’s probably just another side effect of drug use. They’re not the only ones who feel nothing or like they are that.”

Is there any part of you that sees a different future for yourself other than your situation right now?

“Yeah, but it’s all sort of hazy. If I were to try to picture it, I couldn’t put the pieces together. It’s more like an audio clip. I can hear myself ‘all right, you’re sober, you’re good, life’s okay,’ but I can’t actually see it. It’s like there’s someone with my voice telling me that, but I don’t see it with my own eyes or inside my own head. I can’t picture it and to me that just tells me it’s not a thing. If you can see it, you can achieve it, and I can’t see it.”

Is it possible that that’s faith? Do you have faith?

“I have something; I don’t know what it is. I don’t know if I’m pessimistic or I’m realistic, but I don’t think I have faith in myself; that’s what it is.”

Why?

“Why should I? Maybe I just doubt myself more than I have faith in myself.”

All the various skills you’ve developed to sustain what you’re doing today could be used in the opposite direction to sustain you in a way that you might thrive.

“I’ve managed to be able to live without any sort of resources other than the kindness of strangers for the past three years, so that’s good; that makes me something.”

That’s strength.

“I’m probably evil. I don’t think I’m a bad person for it—surviving strictly on the kindness of others. It sounds terrible when you say it like that. I’m just getting by how I can.”

What would give you hope?

“Probably better resources. If I knew there would be something to catch me whenever I fell off this horrible plane ride of whatever it is I’m going through now. If there was a safety net that would give me hope. Now knowing that I would hit rock bottom and fall to my death if I were to stop, I won’t stop because of that. If there was something to catch me, and if I knew it would be okay and there was a better support system other than the people who are constantly throwing dope in my pipe, then I probably would stop.”

It’s hard to see that in any situation. I can only speak for myself, but for me, I could never see what was going to catch me either, whether I continued to perpetuate self-destruction and didn’t want to not feel pain anymore, but didn’t know how to end it without inflicting more pain on myself, or to follow my heart and intuition and move in the other direction. My life started to change when I listened to my heart and moved in the other direction, but it was just as scary because I couldn’t see how I was going to have the resources I needed and somehow (and I’m not a believer in your traditional God or any type of religion) miraculously I had what I needed when I needed it. It didn’t ever come in the way I expected it to, and yet it was there, some sort of ground beneath my feet, and that gave me faith and restored my faith that if I had enough courage to continue to be vulnerable, enough to step out of my old behaviors, to step out of the routine, and step out of the comfort, even if it is perpetuating discomfort—somehow it’s familiar so it’s comfortable—if I had the vulnerability and courage to do that, something would catch me. I remember early on looking for people who were going to save me or thinking that all these various opportunities that presented themselves were going to be the quick fix that would save me. What I continued to learn, and to repeat over and over again through making that mistake of thinking someone else was going to save me, is that I had the power to save myself all the while. All the resources I needed were within me. I had to think them into reality: thought, action, reality. Yet somehow, we train ourselves to think it’s going to come the opposite way, that it comes from the outside in, but that wasn’t my experience. I don’t know if that makes any sense to you.

“It does.”

I can relate to that feeling of being stuck. You know you want to get off that ride, but you don’t know if there will be anything to catch you if you’re to get off. So, you stay stuck.

“I made up this fun little terminology of being plateaued. You’ve reached a level where there’s nothing much around other than the great distance between you and the ground and it’s not high enough to put you up in the clouds where you need to be. So, you’re there, drifting above the surface of rock bottom and normalcy.”

It’s like being in limbo.

“Yeah, or purgatory. I live in purgatory. Actually, it might be hell. I live in gray, very gray, not a whole lot of color there.”

Are there moments where you see or feel color in your life?

“There’s a lot of blue and, when it’s not blue, it’s red but, for the most part, it’s gray. I don’t really feel much but, whenever I do, it’s usually just sadness. I get so sad and I feel like I can’t do much about it, so again, I get angry, then I get so mad that I cry and that makes me even more sad, and then I’m mad that I’m crying, so it’s purple or gray. It’s not really a colorful journey—this life. It’s like an old-school comic book, it’s all grayscale with a little blue and a little red.”

What do you know about the process of grieving?

“I don’t. I know that it sucks. I don’t know how to get over it. You can either sweep it under the rug or you can actually deal with it, and I’ve just been sweeping it under the rug. Anything that I’ve ever lost, I’ve been ‘all right, shut that down, shut that down’ and only ever pick up where I left off, which is having it suck basically, whenever someone lifts that rug up for me ‘thanks.’ So, I guess I don’t know much about the process of grieving.”

I’m not particularly sure about the order, but there are five stages of grief. I think you’ve mentioned a few of them, like the deep sadness, the anger, and there’s a stage of blame, transferring that uncomfortable feeling onto someone else, making them responsible for your suffering. There’s also acceptance, which I think is a hard one to come to; we avoid a lot by repressing. As long as we can keep it stuffed down, we don’t have to look at it or accept that it happened. Until we do that, we’re not truly moving on, whether it’s grief or trauma. I had a woman tell me in an interview, and it’s very profound, she said when she started to heal the trauma, the addictions started to go away, and that really stuck with me. I believe that we continue to connect with whatever our substance is, whether it’s our phones, drugs, alcohol, money, or sex, to avoid looking at the wound, but the only way to heal a wound is to treat it with compassion and kindness.

“Not a big band aid?”

No. I know in our culture and in our families, we’re taught to discharge pain, to move away from it, and stuff it down.

“The sun gives you a sunburn, stay away from it kind of thing.”

Yes, but growth, transformation, awareness, wisdom, empathy, joy, and love are all qualities that are developed through leaning into pain and discomfort, not from running away from it. Everything that we long for—that sense of real meaningful connection, fulfillment, sustenance in our life, and purpose—is on the other side of that pain, and there’s no way to skip over it or go around it.

“You got to go through it and deal with it.”

Yeah. It’s shitty. I don’t know what’s worse, spending your lifetime running away from it or feeling shitty for a period of time, then having some relief, and maybe recognizing that you’re resilient, you do have potential, and there is more to life than this grayscale and constant fear of when is the bottom going to drop out.

“I feel like I’ve hit rock bottom a couple of times, like literally scraping my teeth on its surface is where I’ll probably want to stop but, at the same time, I’ve probably hit that part too. It seems like chilling at the mantle.”

Do you have a favorite song lyric, mantra, or something that someone has said to you, maybe even your friend or your parents, that has stuck with you that you’d like to share?

“There are lyrics to a song that says ‘if you talk me out of my needs and stitch me up at the seams then I can live in my dreams’.”

What’s that mean to you?

“It’s kind of sad, if you think about it. If I didn’t have to do the things I have to do, then I’d be happy. If I didn’t have to wake up and get high, I’d probably be okay or if I didn’t require x amount of blah, blah, blah then I’d be cool, things would be okay, and life would be a dream. But, that’s not how it is and I’m living a nightmare. Yeah, talk me out of my needs and stitch me up at the seams, I can live in my dreams.”

Do you think it’s possible to heal?

“Yeah. You just got to rip off that band aid I was telling you about. I don’t know. I feel like, metaphorically, my band aid is waterproof and I don’t want to pull it off because it really hurts, and I don’t want to deal with it, so I slowly pick at it, but eventually I just stick it back on. Yeah, it’s possible to heal; tons of people do it, right?”

Yes. It’s a matter of surrendering. It’s like showing up and saying ‘I don’t know how this is going to turn out.’

“But doing it anyway.”

Yeah. That’s courage, right?

“Yeah. I don’t think I have much of that. Like I said earlier, the fear of the unknown, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to do it, so I don’t try it.”

What’s worse? It seems like you have more to lose by continuing and knowing that the rest of your life may look like it does right now or there’s a risk that you may feel some discomfort for a while, but there’s a chance that things could get better.

“I don’t know. I should probably stop using, because it’s not helping me. I wouldn’t necessarily say that it’s hurting me either, but that’s probably the drugs talking.”

Who would be the first person you would call, if you were to make that choice?

“I’d probably call my mom. Yeah, that’s probably who I’d call. I’d probably tell her to come get me. I’ve done it before. I’ve told her ‘I need you to come get me. I need you to fuckin’ stop what you’re doing and come get me’ and she has; she would do it in a heartbeat. The last time I called her and said that was about three years ago. I’m not too sure how or if she would be okay with it or how she would go about it, but I’d call her. I need to call her actually.

“Not only for that, but I miss my family a little bit, a lot. I haven’t seen them. I spent that one Christmas in jail, but the two after that—I didn’t go, the one before that—I didn’t go. I haven’t been home in so long. I haven’t actually seen my mom in a year—that sucks. For a long time, she was my best friend. She was always a shoulder and an ear. It’s been a while, a long time.”

I hope you do make that phone call.

“We Snapchat sometimes, which is kind of weird. We’re actually Snapchat friends, but I haven’t snapchatted her in about six months. I sent her a text about two weeks ago, and that’s about it. I haven’t heard her voice in a long time. I can still remember what she sounds like, which is kind of surprising. Usually whenever I cut things off like that, I completely disconnect from it. I don’t know what they look like. I don’t know what they feel like. I remember her and her voice; it’s weird.”

Do you think she would answer the phone now if you called?

“She’s probably asleep right now, but yeah she might answer. If not, she would text me ‘what?’, but I think she would answer.”

I hope you make that call after this interview. How has it felt to talk about these thoughts, feelings, and experiences with me tonight?

“Surprisingly, not bad. Like I said, I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. At the beginning, I thought it was probably going to be annoying, but I didn’t find it that annoying because there was a level of comfort versus judgment. I didn’t feel very judged at all.”

It’s a beautiful thing, you being vulnerable.

“Is that what this is?”

Yeah, and you being met with empathy. It kind of kills shame, which I think feeds addiction.

“Probably, yeah, needing to hide something.”

It’s a heavy weight.

“It will suffocate you. That’s always good.”

It’s lethal; it really is.  Do you think it’s possible by sharing your thoughts, feelings, and experiences so courageously tonight, as you are, that someone on the receiving end gains some hope, inspiration, or at least a sense that they’re not alone?

“I would hope so, because this wasn’t that easy to do. Yeah, I think they probably could if they aren’t stubborn assholes like me, and listen all the way through. Because if I were handed this to listen to, read, or watch, I’d probably stop paying attention halfway through; depending on my state of mind I might say ‘I don’t want to hear that.’ If I actually listened to it or if someone like me listened to it from A to B, they’d probably like it; they’d probably get it.”

Yeah.  Thank you.

“Thank you. You’re welcome.”

I’m really proud of you. This was a really courageous thing to do and you skipped right into it.

“I ripped the band aid off that time.”

You did. I hope you’ll continue to do that.

“There’s a bunch of open blisters and sores here—this sounds so weird.”

Thanks.

#crystalmeth #addiction #recovery #grief #healing #vulnerability #courage #mentalhealth #heartsofstrangers #houston

[races-erster]

just a vent

you all can ignore this if you want, and I’ll be putting the whole thing under the cut so it’s easier to skip over. It’s just I have too much to vent about for just 30 tags, so I used this instead...

I’m basically terrified of my entire life right now. Things have just gotten so bad and I don’t know what to do to get everything back on track. And I mean I’ve really gotten scared of everything.

I’m afraid to post original content on here for some reason. I guess I’m just worried that something will go wrong and I just,,,idk. I know this probably sonds stupid. I’m just scared that since I’ve been on a break, that people just kinda forgot about me or won’t care what I post anymore. Idk.

Band starts tomorrow too. I think I’m most afraid of that. After last season,,,I just don’t know. Everyone keeps telling me that I’ll be fine, but they just don’t understand what it’s like. I couldn’t walk for 6 months, and I know that isn’t as bad as other people have it, but it’s still terrifying to me. The longest that I hadn’t been able to walk before that was 2 weeks. It’s just scary. That entire situation lead to a decline in my physical, mental, and emotional health more than anything ever has before.

I have so many restrictions for band to the point where it’s ridiculous. I can’t run or jump. I can;t lunge or squat or get into a push up position. Hell, I can’t even stand on one leg or even speed walk. My doctor’s note literally says “must walk at a slow or moderate speed.” I can barely do anything. I’ll probably barely be able to march since the show opener’s tempo is 140 bpm. I just don't know what to do. I’m at a higher rate of getting hurt this year because you have more of a chance of injuring something if it’s already been hurt. My leg has been hurt 4 times out of 8 leg injuries total. And now it’s worse because I have CRPS, so I don’t have a pain tolerance and my nerves are sending jackshit to my brain (in terms of correct signals.)

Not to mention I lost all of my friends last year because whoever was near me or helped me throughout the season was made fun of because of it. I heard all sorts of rumors about me last year. Some were even said directly to my face rather than behind my back. 

I heard that I was ffacking because a sprained ankle didn’t take that long to heal:

(I tore my ligament all the way from my ankle to my knee. So yeah. That takes a while but still not 6 months.) 

Then I heard that I purposefully got hurt in order to get out of band:

(Here’s the thing. I did have a no running rule. But I thought it was over because I was cleared by doctors and physical therapy and my band director hadn’t really said anything about it, so I figured I could participate per usual. Apparently I was wrong. But even then, if I was to get hurt on purpose just to get out of band, why the hell would I even sign up for it? And then why would I try to fight through the pain during stretches until told by a section leader to sit down because my leg had already turned black and blue by the time stretches were over?  It makes no sense.)

Next I heard that I only got hurt so I could get attention:

(We’re back with that dumb “she got hurt on purpose” crap,,,no, I did not get hurt on purpose. No living soul would want to be on crutches for six months, have to hop their way down an entire football field or would want to do the same around a high school. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. Also, I hate being the center of attention and having attention on me, so clearly the people who came up with that one don’t even know me.)

My favorite one though was that if I think I’m hurt, than I am and that I'm clinically insane because of it:

(This one hurt the most. It was started by one of my best friends and our section leader. My mom tried to explain to my section leader exactly what was wrong and how the bullying was making me want to quit marching band. He told my mom that he would take care of it, but when my mom told him that my nerves aren’t sending the right signals to my brain, her took that as “It’s all in her head.” Then he told everyone that and his girlfriend (my best friend) at the time started to say that I was insane and needed to be locked up in a nuthouse. I don’t know why they would do that to me…)

So yeah. I guess that’s why I’m so scared of starting band tomorrow. I don’t know who’s going to say what and I don’t know who already knows about my restriction or not. I just terrifies me that something is gonna happen again. 

I honestly think that may be why I’m still a little afraid to be on here and post my own stuff now: I don't want to be cast out again. I can’t be cast out again. I scares me so much when I know it probably shouldn’t. I know that you all are incredible people, but there are still those who leave hate when there was nothing done to provoke it.

And, god, I just remembered something that I really needed to vent about, but forgot until now and it’s not gonna really makes sense with what I just said, but in a way, it actually might?

So, a few months ago, I mentioned something about one of my friends asking me to prom, but he had been known to have a crush on me, so for the sake of this story, even though it has nothing to do with going to prom, I’ll be referring to him as Prom Boy.

So the Disney band trip was about a little over a month ago, and it was pretty fun, but of course it did have those moments. And unfortunately, those moments were caused by Prom Boy. He was in our group of friends that went around the parks together, and he was bearable most of the time. Or at least he was until my brother collapsed at the end of the day our second day there. My brother is okay now, but when we were trying to figure out what to do, Prom Boy said “There’s no point in us staying here, let’s just go.”

Now, listen, I tease my little brother a lot, but I’m also protective of him. So when this asshole told us all to just leave him and go back to the buses instead of wait with my brother, I naturally got pretty upset. I told him that if he wants to go back, he can, but I was going to stay with my brother. The rest of the group stayed with my brother and I while Prom Boy made his way back to the buses as he said, to save his “reputation.” *insert eyeroll here*

So we got my brother situated and made our way back to the hotel and all was good and dandy, until I woke up that morning. My brother had been in the hospital all night and was texting our Disney groups group chat saying that he was worried he wouldn’t get to march in the parade since we were doing it that day ( he made it in time by just 3 minutes.) Then as I kept reading, I saw a message from Prom Boy that said “dude stop being a baby who cares if you don’t get to be in the parade or not.” My brother and I have been going to Disney since he was 2 and I was 4, so for us, marching in that parade is a big deal because we’ve seen bands do that same thing since before we can even remember. I tried to explain the to Prom Boy, but he just didn’t care. Once again, he was the only one.

Two days later was when he started to be an ass to me and the rest of the group, not just my brother. He sent me into a breakdown and then an anxiety attack that day back to back. The breakdown was because he just kept deciding things for the entire group instead of consulting the rest of us. We were all supposed to eat at Margaritaville our last day in Florida with our big group of 14. They told us that we would have two separate tables in order to fit all of us, but they would be right next to each other. Then, we were lead to 2 tables that would hold 6 each and one table that would hold 2. We talked to management about fixing it, and they tried, but there was nothing they could do. That was okay. I was a little upset that we wouldn’t all be eating together, but it was okay and it wasn’t anyone’s fault. Then we were asked by the manager what we were planning on doing and without hesitation, Prom Boy said “we’re gonna eat somewhere else.” That doesn’t seem too bad, except we never talked or mentioned leaving and he just decided that based on what he wanted to do.

He got up and left before the 7 of us (the other 6 had already ordered) and he went to go find us a place to eat. We left and then I started to have a breakdown because he never took any of our thoughts into consideration and I had wanted the trip to be perfect, but everything just kept going wrong. So, the 7 of us went to eat at Hard Rock and we somehow picked up and either person from the band who wasn’t originally in out group. We were all waiting to order and I was still pretty upset, so I put my head down and just tried to block everything out for a little bit. When I felt okay enough to try to rejoin the conversation, I realized the group was taking bad about Prom Boy and how he manipulates everyone (true) and how he doesn’t understand the word “no” when it comes to the girls he hits on (also true.) 

So I finally look up, and, to my surprise, Prom Boy is standing there behind my friends ( so no one sees him other than me with his arms crossed. We didn;t tell him where we went to eat because we all needed a break and my phone had died. I was also way too shaky to hold my phone let alone text. So, there’s Prom Boy staring right at me. Or rather, there’s Prom Boy staring right at my boobs (he had been hitting on my for a year and a half even though he knew I had a boyfriend.) In about 5 seconds of seeing him standing there, I covered my face with my hands and I started to sob. I had a full on panic attack all because Prom Boy showed up, tracked us on the snapchat map, and was staring intently at my chest. My friends just thought I was still upset from the situation before, but they realized he was there. Prom Boy was demanding answers from everyone. Then, he tried to get me to explain what was going on, but I couldn’t breathe let alone talk. And it just made my attack worse. They finally got him to leave and my friend went off on him for trying to pressure me and for hitting on me nonstop to the point where I was afraid to be left alone with Prom Boy.

So, now, I can’t even hear Prom Boy’s name without having an anxiety attack, but the main reason why I just told that story is because he’ll be near me during the entire band season this year and then some, so I’m terrified of that. I’ve told my section that I can’t be near him and told them the story of what happened, but I’m just so terrified that he’s going to confront me or get near me. My friends said they’ll be there to stop them, but they’re usually on the other side of the field, whereas Prom Boy is right next to me.

So yeah. I’m terrified for tomorrow and I’m terrified of my life and there’s nothing I can really do about it because I’m ashamed to admit that this entire time I’ve been acting happy over the summer was just an act and that I’m just about as broken and depressed as I’ve ever been in my life.

Thanks if you took the time to read this. You really didn’t have to if you didn’t want to. This is still my only place to vent even if I am still a little wary about posting because I'm afraid to tell all of this to my family. I don’t want them to know. I haven’t even talked to my therapist about it because they just really wouldn’t understand. So yeah,,,

#personal #sorry abut this post guys #I really just needed some place to get everything that's happening out

[toast-tit]

You Put A Target On My Back, Baby

Mob!Tom x reader

*gif not mine*

Summary: Don’t leave your flash on, kids or you might end up getting interrogated by the world’s most fear mob boss.

Warnings: language, violent, blood kink???

A/N: lol I know I’m not active on here much but I will still take requests. I’m writing a fic on my wattpad that might be coming here soon, but if not my wattpad is Idrisisthetardis.

__________________________________________________

    The only thing I've known for the past hour or so was that I was completely engulfed in darkness. The rope that kept my hands back cut into my wrists and I knew for sure I was bleeding. What was weird was that there was no gag to silence me, but I still didn't shout or yell for help. I knew I was in deep shit and I knew why.

There was a distant creak from a door opening and a sliver of light that snuck in. It was tiny, but I still squinted because of the fact that I had been used to the dark. There was a murmur of voices and two pairs of footsteps getting louder with each word.

I wasn't even a cop when Scotland Yard contacted me. I was just a photographer who did one or two weddings a month and panhandled the rest of my rent money. Apparently Tom Holland, big bad mob boss, showed up to a wedding I was at and I had caught a photo of him, catching the eyes of the law. They promised me a year's worth of rent if I could be able to spy on the Holland empire and break the whole organization down with just a few clicks from the camera.

But my dumb ass forgot to turn the flash off and here we are.

I felt a hand yank my chin up and I faced a blinding light. It took me a few moments before I actually faced the man behind the light. It was Harrison Osterfield, Tom's right hand man. He was probably the only man to rival with Tom's body count and the one who caught me.

  "Well," he said, "Looks like you got yourself in a sticky situation, didn't you?" He was amused, but it wasn't lighthearted. It was more satirical and dark than anything else. I didn't respond, I was focusing on my breathing. "No shit, Sherlock," I finally said, looking him in the eye, "Where's the big man? I might as well just get this over with."

Harrison frowned at my desire for efficiency. He cocked his head to the side, "And why's that? Do you not feel guilt? Aren't you going to deny what you've done to get in here?" I pondered his words for a moment before shaking my head. "I'm going to end up dead whether I deny my actions or not. There's no use dragging it out. I'm pretty sure you'll forget my name in five minutes and get on with your day," I answered. My nonchalance was affecting him, I could tell.

It wasn't that I cared about living, I do. I have a dog at home that needs her mother and I have a brother who owes me money from a game of Monopoly. But I didn't care about dying. I've already had one near death experience and it didn't alter my life in a positive way. I didn't see the light and I didn't find my religious niche or any of that weepy shit. Instead, I had realized that if I die, I die. There's nothing that will happen to make me miraculously live again, I just go dark for eternity. And with that mentality, I lost my fear of death.

"You're alright, mentally, right? Like you don't have suicidal tendencies or anything?" Harrison furrowed his eyebrows in concern and I laughed. Tom Holland was most likely going to kill me anyway and he was concerned for my mental health? Talk about ironic.

Shaking my head, I reassured the big bad mob guy, "I'm fine. Let's just do your big scary shit and continue our day." Harrison kept his eyes on me for a hot minute before putting two fingers to his ear and saying, "Bring him in. She's ready." He then looked at me and said, "You're making a big mistake by confronting him, Y/N. I'm the nice one." I smiled wryly and tilted my head, "I'm charmed by your hospitality." The door opened and I saw the blinding light of the outside world once again and watched as Harrison walked towards it and Tom Holland walked out.

Now that I was seeing Tom, wearing two holsters of guns placed on his hips and a knife in his hands, I began to regret my decision of meeting him. There was no smile on his face like Harrison, instead a frown. If I was going to die at the hands of a psychopath, I would at least want to see them happy.

He stopped just a few feet before me and pulled up a chair, sitting in it. On the top of the chair, he began sharpening his knife. It was a scare tactic, I was sure of it. It was working, but barely. I was anxious, not scared. Tom stopped sharpening his knife and looked at me for the first time. He was jaw droppingly beautiful, to say the least. His brown eyes had gold specks in them that reminded me of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. His jawline could rival the salience of the knife he held. It was unfortunate he was a criminal; such good looks shouldn't squander their youth in prison.

"Y/N Y/L/N," he said, my name sounding like a different language when he spoke, "I've seen you around quite a few times." He stood up from the chair and kicked it out of side, the volume of the noise caused me to wince. Tom was near me now, and so was the knife. The cold blade was placed behind my ear, threatening for a taste of my blood. I didn't mind death, but I sure as hell minded pain.

Tom pressed the knife closer on my ear and I felt the blade begin to dig in. It wasn't piercing the skin yet, but the pressure was enough to make my breathing shaky. I was wrong. I was so wrong. I should've kept with Harrison. "I thought it cute that you took photos at a few weddings I came to. You were popular among my friends. Hell, I almost requested you at Harrison's wedding. And then I see you taking photos of me and good ol' Jack Dearbourn," the blade pierced my skin and I yelped.

I remembered Jack Dearbourn; he was a mole within the Holland mob. Tom found out and had him scalped and bludgeoned. I took photos of the murder and I was never quite the same seeing that monstrosity. It showed me what Tom was capable of. It made me realize what I was getting myself into. The Jack Dearbourn murder was also the very first time I cooperated with Scotland Yard. I worked with them six times before getting caught but Tom had known since the first. I really was in deep shit.

"I thought it merely a coincidence you would take photos of that incident. You were a photographer from the slums, there was no way you were going to go to the cops," he pressed the knife in harder and I bit my lip to conceal my pain, "Then I saw you at Ruth Hall during the coke exchange, the brothels, even my fucking house. The moment you left that flash on, I knew I was going to be the one to speak to you, darling. And hear we are." The knife then left my ear and made its way into Tom's mouth. I watched him lick my blood from the blade in disgust. The man was insane.

"The photos haven't been turned in yet," my voice was shaky, "If you haven't gone to my apartment yet, take the card from the camera." I didn't exactly know why I sold myself out easily. Pain makes people cowards, I guess. Tom reached into his pocket and pulled out the very same card I was talking about. "I'm not as dumb as you think, dear," he smiled sadistically. "I'm sorry," I apologized profusely, "I wasn't implying that I-" "I find it rather hilarious how you apologize for implying I'm a dunce but not for putting a target on my back. I see where your priorities lie, Miss Y/L/N," and with that, the knife was now placed above my heart.

"Spare the torture, Holland," I whispered, not taking my eyes away from the knife hovering against my breast, "I've done you dirty, so kill me." He wasn't surprised by my brusqueness, and I didn't expect him to be. I'm sure he's heard the tough guy pleads for mercy many times and I was no different.

What surprised me, though, was when Tom took the knife off of my chest and threw it on the floor. I expected him to unholster his gun and shoot me, but he didn't. Instead, he analyzed me, watching my body language. I didn't think I was giving anything away, but I must have been. Bodies have their own secrets from the mind, I suppose. " Your breathing is normal now, and you're not crying despite your obvious pain. Adrenaline, perhaps?" Tom noted. I had totally forgotten about my near mutilated ear, but I still didn't feel the pain, I was watching him.

He walked circles around me, picking up my hair and touching my shoulder with light touches. Once he appeared in front of me, he crouched and lifted my chin with his finger and leaned in. He watched my response, looking at how I looked at his lips and how my breathing slowed. He watched as I wanted him to kiss me, no matter how deranged he was or how mentally incapacitated I was. We were both crazy, but mine was only temporary.

His lips were hovering above mine and I felt him smile. It wasn't sadistic this time; it was alluring more than anything. He spoke and his breath was cool against my mouth, "You're weak. You don't fear death, but you don't want it. You sold yourself to the law for money, almost how your selling your sexuality for a single kiss right now." He pulled away, but I wasn't flustered. I mulled over his words and provided a different approach. "What if I'm not the one that's weak, but rather you, Mr. Holland?"

Tom raised an eyebrow, "Continue..." "You're intimidated by a photographer from the slums. So intimidated that you had her brought in so you can play mind games with her. If you had known where I was from, you would've also known I would never rat out someone who has provided so much for my block. Scotland Yard already gave me the money, I didn't need to turn in the photos. But you were scared that I was. Fear doesn't work well for a lord of darkness, I'm afraid," I stated.

"I admit, I don't care for death and I really do want to fuck you, but that's just me being human. We take our riches and spend it before the guilt sets in. You, however, are feeding your guilt onto others. You can't squander your riches, they're infinite. But you take your snitches, philanderers, abusers, and druglords and you put your guilt unto them before they die, making them afraid. You pass your fear onto them so you don't feel afraid. If you're unable to handle an emotion with as much gravity as fear, then you're weak, Mr. Holland," I watched as he soaked in my words. He wasn't mad or defensive, but rather pensive. I observed his silence, taking mental notes.

Tom picked up the knife and pointed it at me. My heartbeat quickened as I waited for his next move. "You have a pair on you, Y/N," his voice was a little darker now and I felt a twinge of fear flood my veins. He walked behind me and cut the ropes from my wrists. I tried to bring them in front of me, but Tom held them tight. He forced me to stand up and pinned me to a wall, placing the knife on my lips.

"I've never been called weak. Not even by my own men," he slid the knife down my bottom lip and it sliced me. I inhaled sharply and glared at him. "Looks like you need someone to put you in your place," I said, hating how the blood was getting everywhere on my mouth. Tom leaned in once again, but this time it was different. He still held my wrists, but they were above my head. My back was pressed against the wall and my stomach was pressed against his. There was no space between us now. The first time he had leaned in, he was in control of the situation, but now, none of us were except chemicals. "And you think you're that person?" his lips were almost on mine and I needed them to be so badly. I pressed my hips against his, but I had no response. I needed him. I don't know why I did, but I didn't give a fuck.

"Not at all," I answered. I wanted to close my eyes and lean in, but I wanted to see what he would do. For the first time, I kept my eyes on him, never taking them off. He broke eye contact by staring at my bloody lip. He then made the first move. He took my bottom lip into his mouth and bit it lightly, causing me to gasp. I then felt his tongue on my lip, licking the blood. He was toying with me and I loved it. However, I didn't love it too much before I leant in and kissed him deeply, moaning quietly as he kissed me back with the same ferocity. He dropped the knife and put his hand on the small of my back, pressing me close to him. Everything about this was messy, from the blood, to the kiss, to us needing each other relentlessly. He pulled away and I felt empty.

"You need to be cleaned up," was all he said before ushering Harrison and a few other men in here. "I offered her a job here and she complied as long as she burns the evidence. Take her to the spare room and make sure she's comfortable," Harrison grabbed my arm lightly and lead me out of the room and into the light. I turned back and watched as Tom regained his composure and wiped my blood off of his lip, following his men out and smiling at me in a way that made my knees weak.

#fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #spiderman #spiderman: far from home #spiderman: hoco #spiderman: homecoming #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland oneshot #tom holland x reader #tom holland au #mob!haz #mob!au #mob!tom

[jelixpo]

Psycho (Chap 4)

~Author’s note: This is a fictional story featuring the pairing between jack///septic//eye and mark//iplier, or septiplier for short, and the pairing between jack///septic//eye and pew//die//pie, or jelix/septicpie for short. You are not to contact the people that are involved in this story with regards to questions about this story or their relationships, whatever they may be, as they have stated in the past that this makes them uncomfortable. This story will deal closely with spiralling mental health and will delve into very sensitive topics that may be triggering for some individuals. Chapter warnings will be provided as seen fit/needed. You are asked to read at your own discretion. Thank you.~

  Felix groaned as his mind began to regain consciousness, his head already pounding before the day had even started. He tried to open his eyes but quickly found the sun to be greeting him brightly. Very brightly. He cringed for a moment before finally managing to flutter his eyes open. Looking around he recognized that he had fallen asleep on the couch last night and, as soon as he made that discovery, he felt how sore and aching his back and neck were. No matter how comfy a couch was it never felt good to sleep on one through the night. Looking down across himself he saw the bottle of whiskey still clutched close to his chest. Upon further inspection, he found that the bottle was down to its last few drops. Had he really drank the whole thing? That would explain the headache.    Felix began to shift as he tried to find a comfortable position. In doing so, the whiskey bottle laying on his stomach slipped off of him and clattered to the floor, thankfully staying intact. The sound of the thick glass clanging onto the ground just made Felix's head pound harder. He managed to push himself into a sitting position and slumped back against the couch. Just sitting up had him panting for breath. There was no way he was going to be able to do anything productive today, let alone anything at all. He scanned his eyes lazily over his surroundings and found his phone lying face up on the ground next to the couch, still prominently displaying its large cracks. He reached down and clumsily took hold of the device before sitting back with it in his hand. He tapped into the Twitter app after opening his phone and typed out a quick tweet about being unable to make videos that day. He read it over a couple times in his head but honestly, in his current state, he could've read the tweet one hundred times over and he'd still never be able to comprehend it himself. Whatever. He got the main point across. It was good enough. He sent it.    Felix sighed as he leaned back into the couch again. He wanted to fall back asleep but he was too achy to get any peace. He needed to take something. Grunting, Felix pushed himself to a standing position from the couch and swayed slightly, shaking his head slightly as he attempted to steady himself and his head. It felt like he had to teach himself how to walk again. Somehow he managed to drag himself into the kitchen and over to the medicine cabinet. Opening it he reached inside and grabbed a bottle of Tylenol and, after a moment of fumbling with the child-proof cap, opened it and popped two pills into his hand. After doing so, Felix reached down onto the kitchen counter and opened up a bag of dinner buns and took two. He wasn't hungry, he didn't really feel like eating anything at all, but he knew the pills might make him sick if he didn't put something in his stomach to balance them. He threw the pills into his mouth then took a bite out of one of the buns, the texture of food feeling weird in his mouth in his current state. That feeling would probably wear off soon enough.    Felix turned, not bothering to close the cabinet, and walked back over to the living room and his couch. He collapsed onto the piece of furniture, his legs aching. He thought about pulling out his phone and scrolling through Twitter but then thought better of it. He couldn't handle all that right now. Besides, his motor skills weren't really functioning properly at the moment. Attempting to hold a phone and scroll through it at the same time with one hand was too much for him at the moment. Opting to go for the form of entertainment that required much less work, Felix reached down and blindly groped at the ground beside the couch, satisfied once his fingers finally found the remote control and brought it up beside himself. He flicked on the TV and began to flip through the channels, taking another bite of his bun as he did so.    There were various cooking shows, challenge shows, news channels, dramas, and the like. None of which caught Felix's attention or captured his interest. Finally, he landed on something that held some merit. A police officer was being interviewed about the events of a case he had solved. As he spoke, the camera would occasionally cut to a different set piece where hired actors would act out and show the events which the officer was describing. Felix set the remote down on his lap and chewed absentmindedly while watching the show.    "James Davis was truly a hopeless romantic in the simplest of terms. Everything he cared about, everything he strived for was solely driven by his need to be with this person he cared about, y'know... The heart can be a scary thing sometimes," The officer explained. Felix cocked his head to the side slightly, fully intrigued now, "James had been friends with a girl named Maddison Campbell for basically two-thirds of his life and he was crazy in love with her. I'm talking head over heels, butterflies in the stomach, the whole nine yards. Now, Maddison was never informed of Jame's feelings, he actually never told her. She just thought that he was her best friend, and in a way he was, y'know. People said they were inseparable. Maddison was described as a very pretty girl. Y'know, she was young, just graduated college, she was a smart kid and very nice to everyone she met. She was just a walking ball of positive energy, so naturally, she had lots of friends. Well, eventually one of these friends became more than just a friend. I mean, it was inevitable, really. People had seen her and this boy, Cameron Jacobs, constantly flirting, y'know, being playful with each other. Both very good kids. They just kinda gravitated towards each other. Of course, once they announced their relationship James got pretty upset about it. And he knew better than to voice his feelings but he did eventually talk to some of his close friends about how he was feeling, y'know. Things like 'I wish I told her how I felt' and 'I thought she loved me', 'I was gonna tell her someday'. Things like that."    Felix leaned forward slightly on the couch, ignoring his aches at the moment. He was completely absorbed into the TV, amazed at how similar all these events sounded. The officer on screen continued.    "Eventually Cameron proposes to Maddison and they're on their way to having this big wedding, y'know, inviting everybody, making all these plans. Maddison was ecstatic about the whole thing. She was very much a 'girls' girl. Always wanted the family wedding, wanted the princess dress, the big cake, y'know, all that. She could not wait for this wedding. Now, James being her closest friend, he was one of the first people to find out about this. And he was livid. He never told this to Maddison, of course, he didn't want to make her upset, but hearing about this just made him spiral out of control. Now, James was very good at hiding his emotions, so even though some people noticed how upset he was about the event, I don't think anybody realised just how desperate James was. Y'know, 26, living on his own, working two jobs, swimming in debt from student loans, I think James really saw Maddison as his only form of happiness, so to think that she might be getting stolen away from him, he just couldn't handle it."    Felix let out a shaky breath. He felt sympathy for James, as bad as that sounded. Everything that the officer was describing about James Felix understood perfectly. It was honestly a little scary to think how similar Felix found himself to James.    "For the first couple of months, no one really sees James. He stays in his house all day, at work he keeps to himself, he kinda stops talking to a lot of people. That kind of self-imposed isolation on someone, especially when they're hurting so badly on the inside, can really mess with someone's head. So James starts keeping a journal in order to get his thoughts out. As the wedding date gets closer and closer James just gets more and more depressed and desperate. Eventually, he convinces himself that Maddison must be in love with him too. This kind of false hope happens a lot in people who are desperate and sad. So he decides 'I have to do something about this'. A couple weeks before the wedding he invites Maddison out for a drink alone. And she thinks, y'know, 'oh this is my best friend and I haven't seen him in a long time, this is gonna be great!' but really she didn't know what was going on with him. So she shows up at this bar on the edge of town, quiet place, and her and James get to talking. Eventually, she gets up to go to the bathroom and when she comes back her drink tastes funny. She's a nice girl, doesn't really wanna bother anybody, so she keeps this to herself. Next thing you know, boom, she's out like a light. When she wakes up she's in this basement in a room with James and this is really when she starts to see how insane her friend has become. He tells her about how he feels, what he's been writing in his journal, how much he loves her, basically lays everything out on the table. She tries to tell him that she doesn't feel the same way but he really doesn't listen to her. James is so in love with her that he just kind of hears what he wants to hear. He keeps her for about 3 days. He takes care of her, he never once touches her, but he never shuts up. Just going on and on with all these thoughts he's kept to himself over the past months, how depressed he is. Maddison is very involved with her friends and her community, so her disappearance is immediately noticed. Search teams were sent out exactly twenty-four hours after her disappearance and-"    Felix sat open-mouthed and wide-eyed. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Sure, he understood feeling sad and desperate and lonely. Understood how your soul gets torn out once you hear about the wedding, but he couldn't fathom kidnapping someone, no matter how desperate he got...    Or maybe he could.    Felix grimaced at himself and shook his head, horrified at the thought. Of all the terrible things he had pondered over the last week, this topped them all. No. Kidnapping? No. Out of the question. God, he was such a horrible person. How could he ever think such a horrible thing...    But... Maybe he had been right. Maybe Jack really did love him back. Would doing something that extreme be worth the risk? It definitely had its benefits and-    Felix shot up from the couch and began to pace around the room. No. No, no, god, no. This was fucked up. This was so fucked up. He was so fucked up. How could he even think such things? And to give them second thoughts, no less. God, he felt so ashamed with himself...    But did shame overpower his want, his need for love? For happiness? For affection? He was a person, a living breathing human being. Everyone deserved happiness in their life, even if it was hard to get. Sometimes, sacrifices have to be made-    What kind of fucked up sacrifice was that? Kidnapping his best friend? That's not a fucking sacrifice, that's a fucking crime. There's a difference. God, there's a huge fucking difference between making a sacrifice and choosing to do something so horrific, so terrifying. Jack would never look at him the same...    But maybe that was what he wanted.    But he couldn't want that.    But he did.    But he shouldn't.    But he did...    God, this was all so fucked up. He was tired. He was hung over. He just needed to relax and stop thinking about it. No matter how much he might want it or think he needs it, Felix couldn't do something like that. He'd never forgive himself if he damaged his relationship with Jack beyond repair. It wasn't worth it. He needed to get his mind off of it. He needed to do something, anything. Felix picked up the TV remote he had set on the couch and clicked the TV into a different setting, then walked over to a cabinet beside the TV and opened it, revealing box upon box of different games. He needed to play something, get his mind off all of this. ---    It was getting late. Felix had played every game he thought interested him in the moment, but he still couldn't stop thinking about it. He had gone into his bedroom and opened up a figurine kit and spent hours building it. Every moment of those hours, he couldn't stop thinking about it. Eventually, he had returned to his TV and turned to watching some of his favourite animes. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop thinking about it. This was stupid. This was so fucking stupid. It was no use. Defeated, Felix finally rose from his couch and switched off the TV for the final time that day. He dragged himself into his bedroom and threw his clothes off of him and onto the floor, opting to fold them properly in the morning. Today had kicked his ass mentally and he just wanted to sleep. He pulled back the covers of his bed and crawled under the soft, cool material. He fluttered his eyes closed.    All of a sudden, he found himself waking up again. Back in that godforsaken hotel room where he had heard the news. Felix felt his skin boiling. He was at the end of his rope, on his last nerve. He had to fix this. To fix everything. He jumped out of bed and rushed to the hotel door, not bothering to change out of his clothes or prepare for the day. He felt fresh, revitalised, determined.    In a flash, he was swinging open the doors to the convention and sprinting inside. No one stopped him or dared to step in his way. Somehow, they all knew that this was bound to happen. It needed to happen. It didn't take long for Felix to spot the one he wanted to see most. Jack. Standing next to Mark, the two hand in hand. Felix stopped for a moment and wondered if this was worth it. If telling Jack of his feelings would even change anything. And then, he saw it. Jack's smile. It was plastic. Purely made of plastic. How had he not noticed it before? It seemed so blatant now. Looking down, Felix looked at Jack's and Mark's hands clasped together in a loving hold. But then it shifted slightly, and suddenly it wasn't so loving anymore. It was harsh, gripping, white-knuckled. He blinked and saw that Jack wasn't even holding on. It was Mark, his hand wrapped tightly around Jack's wrist. Holding him. Keeping him. Felix looked back up and blue met blue, Jack now having noticed Felix come in. Jack's smile didn't fade, but how could it? Something so fake couldn't move, but Felix saw his eyes. They were filled with hurt, with longing, with a need to break free. Felix knew he had to do something. Now.    "Let him go, Mark," Felix called across the room. The American whipped his head toward the Swede, his eyes filled with worry all of a sudden.    "F-Felix!" Mark stuttered, startled, "I-I'm surprised you came back! I didn't expect to see you again. Are you feeling better?" Mark attempted to dodge the question. Felix began to move towards the couple.    "Let. Him. Go, Mark" Felix repeated again, more sternly, "He doesn't belong with you," Felix finally said. Finally. It felt good to say those words out loud. Mark's expression grew stern.    "What do you mean he doesn't belong with me? He loves me. Don't you, Jack?" Mark asked, his voice suddenly changing again from stern to soft as he gently turned Jack's face to look at him. He tried to hide it, but Felix could see the death grip Mark had on Jack's jaw, "You love me, baby, don't you?" He asked softly.    "Of course," Jack croaked out, his voice hitching. Felix could see how trapped Jack felt. He had to do something.    He took one step and suddenly he was on the other side of the room, grabbing hold of Jack's hands and ripping him out of Mark's grasp. The American tried to reach out to Jack once again, but Felix pulled him out of Mark's reach. Felix turned back to Jack and stared into his eyes, holding the Irishman's bruised hands gently in his.    "You don't have to say what you don't mean," Felix spoke softly, affectionately, "You don't have to be afraid anymore," He shook his head slightly, staring into Jack's fearful eyes, now beginning to fill with tears, "I'm here," Felix cooed. He lifted his hand and placed it gently on Jack's cheek and began wiping away his tears. As soon as he made contact with it, Jack's plastic smile broke and fell off his face. He took a shaky breath out as he leaned into Felix's touch, finally free.    "No, you can't do this!" Mark called out harshly, interrupting the moment, "He's mine!" He shouted angrily. Suddenly, it seemed as if everyone at the convention stood behind Mark, all looking as angry as he did.    "You don't belong with him!" The crowd called to Jack angrily. Felix looked over and could see the fight going on in Jack's head. Should he continue to follow along with what everyone else wanted, or should he finally fight for his own happiness? Felix gently turned Jack's face back to him.    "You don't have to listen to them. You don't have to pretend anymore," Felix reassured him. Jack stared back into Felix's eyes for a moment before an affectionate smile formed on his face. He had made his choice.    "Get them!" Mark called out angrily. Immediately, the crowd began to sprint towards the two outcasts.    Felix quickly locked Jack's hand with his and began to run for the exit to the convention. As fast as the crowd was, Jack and Felix were faster. In a flash they were darting out the door, running as fast as their legs would carry them, their burning passion for each other the only thing fueling them. The wind licked through their hair as they ran through the streets and alleyways, ducking and weaving through every twist and turn with ease. It wasn't long before they escaped the city and out-ran the mob. They ran over highways and train tracks and fields of every kind, the wind at their backs as they flew through the country. It wasn't long before they came upon a city in the distance, and then that city drew closer. And closer. And closer. Running through the streets, Felix couldn't believe where they had run to. His home. His real home. Where he grew up. Stockholm, Sweden. Darting through the streets they came into an alleyway and finally skidded to a halt. They had travelled thousands of miles together, crossing every form of land known to man, and yet they felt energized. Nothing could separate them now. Felix turned around and looked at Jack, their eyes meeting again. The Irishman smiled warmly at him. It was real, genuine.    "I love you," Jack finally said. And there it was. The affection, the look, the firm grasp that Jack held to Felix. Now Felix knew it was true. To Jack, he was special. And Jack was special to him. Jack slowly leaned closer and closer towards Felix, his eyes closing slightly as he did so. Felix copied his action, their faces inching closer and closer. Suddenly, Jack stopped and looked up into Felix's eyes, "Now you just have to get me to admit it."    "What?" Felix asked, confused.    And suddenly, in a flash, he was back in his room again. Waking up.    Felix sat up in his bed and looked around. It was still dark. He leaned forward and put his head in his hands, shaking his head at himself.    This was so fucking stupid.

#jelix #septicpie #writings #some writings or whatever #psycho #psycho story #get it #stockholm #like the syndrome #yeah you get it

[brittysaucefanfic]

Operation: Voltron

Part 20

Lance

(First)(Previous)(Next)(AO3)

Lance's breath is caught in his throat as he waits.

Sendak has his full attention as he looks Lance over. Lance likes to think that curious deja vu look has nothing to do with Lance himself. He prefers not thinking about the consequences if Sendak actually recognized him. Sendak takes his sweet time looking him over, or maybe time has just slowed for Lance. Like a cliche slow motion shot in a movie.

"You must be the man we talked to about a job earlier." Sendak says, looking away and turning back to the doorway Lance stands in. He gets the hint, and lets it swing shut behind him before stepping forward with a cocky smile, heart racing so loud in his ear he feels like the people can hear his fear from it.

"That's me, what are we looking at exactly?" Lance says, stepping forward more with all the cocky confidence he could muster. Leandro, his alias for the mission, was a cocky asshole who objectified women and had a penchant for irritating people. So like his normal self, but ten times worse.

"What's your name?" Someone asks harshly beside Sendak. A brute of a man stands beside Sendak, his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. Lance recognizes him, from a file he was given by Keith before this all started. Apparently they had been able to get some people on the inside of Zarkon's operations. This guy was called Antok, another alias. The bottom half of his face was covered in a mask.

Lance makes sure to wipe his expression of any recognition.

"The name's Blue Lion, but you can call me Leandro." Lance says, chucking his hip out and reaching into his jacket to pull out a toothpick to chew it. Like he said, asshole. Had to be the biggest asshole on this planet. Someone else speaks, standing closer to Lance than Sendak. There's four of them, Sendak, Antok, this guy and a woman.

"I thought the Blue Lion was caught and arrested by the FBI?" The guy says, slim with a creepy looking face. Eyes just a little to wide to be normal, smile sharp, and teeth even sharper, like vampire fangs. A shiver tries to break through, but Lance cools it with a smile. He picks his toothpick out of his mouth and uses it to point at the guy.

"Amateur, the real Blue Lion, me, would never be caught." Lance says. He hears a snort in his ear and fights off the urge to scowl at Pidge, clacking his teeth hard, making Pidge hiss. She had outfitted Lance with a very discreet ear piece, shoved so far into his ear that if he rubbed his ear, it would probably harm his eardrum. He also had a tooth microphone, and the latest of contact lens cameras. If Pidge typed into the lens thingies he would see floating words in front of him.

It was a last resort, didn't want Lance to be caught reading thin air.

The group seemed to take it as it was, moving on and laying out the plans for the heist. It seems more complicated than necessary. The woman was to charm her way close to someone with a key pass into the building and swipe it off him, then give it to the creepy guy to use to get the truck into the gates. Antok was chosen to run the cameras on loop for five minutes while the heist went down.

Lance would be smuggled into the building, and had less than five minutes to get the jewels and get back to the truck without being seen. Easier said than done when he realized they left a lot of pertinent information out, that Lance already knows of from Keith. Which includes hand and eye scanners, and a layer of personnel guarding the warehouse, then he had to locate the jewels and get through it all backwards and back to the truck.

Within five minutes.

The heist was to go down tomorrow night. So Lance had until tomorrow night to prepare his tools and knowledge for a heist he wasn't ready for. It isn't the first time Lance has had to do rush jobs, but this was just a bit insane. Lance agreed anyways, despite the glint in Sendak's eye promising him much misfortune if failed.

The thought of what Sendak would do to him if he saw past the cocky smile sent a surge of impractical panic through his chest. He could feel it tightening on the way back to the Castle, heart pumping faster than normal. He's pretty sure he's having a slight panic attack. And why wouldn't he? Sendak physically clamped a hand over the creepy guy's mouth to avoid giving Lance the information he needed for a heist. Which probably meant Lance was recognized. Which was bad. And panic inducing.

Lance marched back into the castle, ripping out his contacts and pulling out his ear piece before the entire team was inside the building. He marched over to the workbench Pidge and Hunk uses, setting the devices down more gently then the anxiousness in his veins suggested possible. The tooth would have to be taken out by Pidge, lest Lance ruin the technology. This team may be a well payed and government sanctioned operation, but Lance doubted they had all the money in the world. 

Lance paced around the room, rubbing his hands together, babbling in a mix of languages. He had no control over what he was saying, breakdowns like this rarely allow him to make coherent sentences in a chosen language, despite his mind being clear. He could hear the sounds of footsteps cautiously tracing his path as he worked from one wall to the other, mind working like a freight train. 

“Lance?” Allura asked, her accent slipping, making the alias sound more like ‘Lonce’. Lance ignored her probing question, preferring instead to keep pacing, but he halted as he came face to face with Shiro. Shiro seemed to actually look concerned, but Lance doubted he really cared. Lance was a criminal, and the person who tormented his brother for three years.

"What's wrong Lance? Why are you so anxious?" Allura said, now standing behind him. Lance whips around, knowing that Allura was the one he should be wary of the most out of everyone. He knows what she did, what caused her to leave the military. He knows just how dangerous she really is. His breathing picks up again and his eyes unfocus.

Is he hyperventilating? Probably.

"Because he recognized me! Sendak recognized me, he had to of. And that's bad, for everyone, but especially for my health." Lance said, throwing his hands in the air then bringing them down to start chewing on his nails. Which sucks, because he just got them done not too long ago. He broke away to babble again. He should really stop that.

Lance stepped around Allura and continued pacing.

"I spent years making sure that guy thought I was dead, that he finished the job." Lance said, so quietly he was positive no one could hear him. But he didn't care, he just wanted to get out of here. Take off the anklet like he's so tempted to try, and go off the grid. Collect every dollar he's stashed away and live on a farm or something. Retire.

But Keith would hunt him down.

Right? He's been so vigilant, tracking Lance's every move, hunting him down like the BloodHound he's named after. Maybe Lance will never be free, always forced to look over his shoulder and live a life of secrecy. He's on the verge of a complete mental breakdown when he's forced to a stop.

Hands on his shoulders stop him in his tracks, clamping down hard. Not painful hard, but like forceful hard. And not forceful hard as in he has no choice but to obey, but forceful hard as in very persuasive. And not persuasive as in threatening, but persuasive as in relaxing. What was he doing again?

Right, freaking out, he forgot.

The hands on his shoulders force him to turn, and dark violet pools fill his blurry vision. It only takes a second of looking into those eyes to clear his eyesight up a little bit, no longer caught in a panic induced meltdown.

"Breath." Keith says. A simple and lonely word, which should be useless against the state Lance was spiraling into. Keith demonstrates by breathing really loud and slow, and Lance knows what he's doing. But he soon finds himself sucking in a deep breath, the tightness on his chest loosening, as he breaths in time with Keith's. Keith nods, slowly, and after a moment Lance nods back. He can breath again.

"Better?" Keith asks.

Lance takes a second to calm his frazzled nerves, sucking in slow breaths to calm down. His arms drop to his sides, now that he wasn't chewing away a nice manicure. It takes a moment, but Lance musters up a shaky smile.

"What are you, a one word wonder Kogane?"

Keith cocks an eyebrow then snorts, clapping Lance lightly on the shoulder.

"At least we know you aren't broken anymore. Now let's get you prepared for a heist." Keith says. Lance huffs in indignation, but he dutifully follows Keith's lead, prodding at the man to start up an argument. Something about hippos maybe, Lance doesn't care. Nor does care for the eyes following his movements across the room.

******

(First)(Previous)(Next)(AO3)

#voltron #voltron au #voltron fic #lance mcclain #keith kogane #shiro #takashi shirogane #katie holt #pidge gunderson #hunk garrett #allura #coran #matt holt #modern!au #white collar!au #hawaii five o!au #zarkon #military!shiro #fbi!keith #nasa!pidge #nasa!hunk #criminal!lance

[all-the-fanfics-bc-im-indecisive]

Rooftop | Muke AU

Summary: Michael takes a break from his best friend’s terrible college party and goes to get some air up on the rooftop, where he meets a puffy-eyed boy who’s ready to throw his life away.

Word count: 2,136

Warnings: Talk of suicide and mental illness, mentions of substance abuse

A/N: I’m not incredibly proud of this story but it’s all I really have and it’s not the worst. Also please tell me if I’ve said something wrong or if you think this is romanticising mental illnesses at all!! I tried to make it as real as possible but, although I struggle with a lot of mental illnesses, I’ve never come extremely close to suicide. So if you think I’m simplifying suicide too much or making it sound a lot better than it is, please tell me so I can fix it!

-

Michael looks around the overcrowded apartment. He hovers at the TV, avoiding the sweaty teenagers, drunk off their asses from watered down beer.

Calum is nowhere to be seen. Michael tries to spot him in the large crowd, with no luck. He guesses the boy is off chugging down a can of crappy alcohol or getting high with some minors upstairs.

He doesn't know why he allowed his best friend to throw this dumb party. He dreads having to clean the mess up afterwards, and he barely knows anyone in the apartment.

The air begins to feel hot and thick as more people pile into the apartment, and Michael starts to sweat. He takes a few deep breaths before beginning to push through the people closing in around him.

Thankfully, most of the people Calum invited were college freshmen or high school seniors, so Michael can see over their heads pretty easily.

He makes his way to the front door, avoiding everyone who tries to grind on him as he walks past. He almost gets a cup of punch thrown on him, but jumps out of the way just in time. He sighs in relief. He has a white shirt on, and absolutely does not want to be half naked in a crowd of horny teenagers.

Finally, he's at the front door. He slips out into the hallway as quickly as he can, immediately taking in a huge gulp of air. He's always hated parties. Even his birthday parties. It's not even the overcrowding. Drop him in a festival ground? He feels right at home. Throw him into an overpacked concert? Brilliant. But parties? Absolutely not.

He shakes his head and walks off through the hallway.

Humming to himself, he makes his way to the rooftop. The stairs are a pain in the ass, but he trusts them more than the rickety old elevator. And anyway, it's worth it. The view from the rooftop is incredible.

He walks up the stairs for what feels like an hour, sighing in relief when he reaches the door at the top step.

He pushes open the heavy door and smiles at the cool, fresh air. Even if it smells like city smog, it's a hell of a lot better than sweat, beer, and Calum's dirty laundry.

His smile drops instantly. His heart jumps into his throat.

A boy stands on the ledge overlooking the bustling road below, his toes peeking over the edge.

His hands cradle the back of his neck as he gulps in air. His intentions of being on the roof are obvious.

Slowly, Michael creeps over to the shivering boy, wondering if he can somehow grab him before he does anything drastic. But of course, he has no idea how to tiptoe and accidentally shuffles his feet along the cement, causing the boy to jump three feet in the air(which sends a wave of anxiety through Michael's body as the boy is dangerously close to the edge already)and turn quickly to face Michael.

Tears stream down his face. He sobs loudly to himself, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his denim jacket. He backs away slightly, taking a tiny step towards the edge.

"Hey, hey." Michael says softly, holding his hands up.

"G-go away." The boy stutters, hiccuping. "I'm serious, go away."

"I'm sorry." Michael replies. "I just came to get some air."

He takes a step forward, but freezes when the boy backs away from him.

"Whoa, it's okay." he says, trying his best to keep his voice soft. If he so much as looked at this boy the wrong way, he would be soaring off the side of the building.

"What's your name?" He asks, staying firmly in his spot.

The boy doesn't reply, he just stares at Michael through huge, swollen eyes. Michael repeats the question.

"I...Luke."

"Luke." Michael smiles. "That's a nice name. I'm Michael."

Luke's face goes red as more tears pour out of his eyes.

"Can I ask why you're up here, Luke?"

He shrinks into his jacket.

"It's okay. You can tell me." Michael tries to soothe him as best he can.

"I-I..." He sniffles and chokes on a sob. "I can't."

"That's okay." Michael's heart races, his brain running a million miles an hour. "But I need you to step off the ledge, alright?"

Luke shuffles his feet closer to the edge of the building. He shakes his head.

Shit, shit, shit. Michael scolds himself.

"I promise, if you come down, it'll all be okay." Words fall out of his mouth. He can't think of what to say to help this poor boy.

"You don't know that!" Luke yells.

"No, no. I do." Michael says in a whisper.

The wind whips around the two. Luke's hair flies into his face.

"Trust me, I do." He smiles softly. "I wanted to do the exact same thing, three years ago."

Luke shakes his head again. "You don't understand." He lets out a single sob.

"I do. I was running up the stairs to the top of the apartment where me and my mom lived when my friend caught me and stopped me." Michael rushes.

Luke seems to have frozen in place, listening to Michael. He takes a deep breath, praying the boy stays where he is until he can find a way to get him down.

"Every single university that I applied for rejected me. After six years of fighting to get all A's, putting my grades before my mental health, taking extracurriculars and working two jobs just to prove I was good enough, it turned out I wasn't." He explains. Luke's feet stay where they are. Michael continues his story.   "School, university, and work had always been the most important things in my life, and then I had nothing. I thought if I didn't get into university, I had no purpose. No future.

"So, after weeks of crying in my room, destroying furniture and tearing up denial letters, I decided that I'd rather be dead than worthless. So I grabbed my cigarettes and a handful of painkillers and ran off."

Luke watches Michael intently, as if he's not the one on the edge of the building.

"I sent my best friend a text telling him not to be surprised if I wasn't at school the next day, but I guess he knew me too well. He darted over from his house next door, and the next thing I knew, he was grabbing me, pulling me down the stairs, wrestling the painkillers out of my hand."

Luke takes a deep, shaky breath.

"He screamed at me for being an idiot. We were both crying, sobbing into each other's arms. I told him I had no purpose, he told me that that was the dumbest thing he'd ever heard. Finally, and hour and a half later, I let him drag me back to my apartment."

Michael sighs, quickly wiping his eyes and shaking his head.

"He cancelled his first year of university for me. Promised me he wouldn't leave my side until I got help. I went to therapy, so much therapy, saw psychologists, took a bunch of anti-depressants. I even stopped smoking. By the time I got on my feet, it was half way through the year. And that whole time my best friend was helping me make more university applications, making me send them out everywhere, even though I had no faith in myself. And then, after I had gotten out of therapy, he packed our stuff and we flew over to the UK. For the rest of the year, we travelled Europe."

There's a long silence. The two boys seem to have forgotten the situation they're in.

"And when we got home a few days before Christmas, I got a letter from NYU. An acceptance letter. We were so happy. We cried and screamed and poured cheap champagne all over each other. And he was going to Brooklyn College, which meant we could share an apartment."

Michael looks up. Luke stares directly into his eyes.

"I've been in uni for two years. I'm studying music composition and game design and gender and sexuality studies and I've never been happier. And that's because I didn't die that night. Do you know how much I would've missed out on? If I'd done it? I wouldn't have seen how incredible Europe is, or gone to any insane college parties. I wouldn't have met the amazing people I have now. I might've even killed my best friend. I don't know."

He finishes his story in a rush and suddenly it's as if time has unfrozen itself. The wind picks up again, Michael can hear the roar of the busy road below, Luke shuffles his feet back and forth.

"Please come down." Michael says softly.

Once again, Luke shakes his head. "No, I...I can't. You got better, your life got better, but mine won't."

Michael takes a deep breath. "How do you know? You won't be able to find out if you jump."

Luke is so close to the edge, his heels dangle dangerously off. He doesn't bother wiping away the tears that fall down his face and neck.

"Who's the most important person in your life?" Michael asks frantically while still trying his best to act calm. "Who do you love more than anything?"

Luke sniffles.

"My mom." He says quietly after a minute.

"What's she gonna think tomorrow? When the cops come to her door and tell her what happened? Did you leave her a note?"

"No." He whispers.

"What if she blames herself? What if she thinks she's done something wrong? She'll have to explain what happened a million times over when someone asks where you've gone. She won't know what to do with herself."

"Sh-she'd pick herself up. She always does." Luke's voice cracks.

"Do you want to put her through that? All the medication, the therapy?"

"I-I..."

"She might pick herself up, but it's not gonna happen overnight. After my mom found out what happened, she became an alcoholic, and she had to go to AA for almost two years. She still struggles now. And I didn't even get as far as the roof. She's so scared. She locks the bathroom cabinets with padlocks, she doesn't let me near the knives in the kitchen, and any time I'm home, she's checking on me constantly. Every few minutes, she runs into my room, just to make sure I'm okay. All I did was grab some pills and spontaneously run to the roof and now she's terrified that I'm gonna do it again.

"I don't want anyone to go through what my mom had to. It sucks, watching someone hurt themselves over something you did. It really sucks. Don't make your mom do what I made mine do. Don't let her waste away like that."

Luke doesn't move. He sobs loudly, his eyes not straying from Michael's face.

"I'm scared." He cries loudly. "I'm scared of what'll happen if I come down."

"Just keep your eyes on me." Michael says soothingly. "Can I come over to you? Please?"

Hastily, he takes a small step forward. Luke stays. He takes another step. Luke still stays.

"You're okay. Just take a little step towards me."

Slowly, Luke shuffles his feet along the concrete. It's only a few minuscule steps, but Michael's stomach begins to stop twisting into ferocious knots.

"That's it." He says with an encouraging smile. He takes a few more steps towards the boy. "Just keep looking at me. Don't focus on anything else."

Luke nods and takes a few more steps forward. He slowly gets closer to Michael.

As soon as he can reach him, Michael quickly stretches out his arms and grabs Luke by his jacket, pulling him as close as he can. Relief floods through him. He sighs, muttering a barely audible 'thank god' under his breath.

Luke's head hits his chest and he begins to sob into Michael's shirt. Michael stands there, stroking his hair as if the two have known each other for a lifetime.

"You're okay, you're okay." He repeats over and over.

Luke's sobbing has turned into a strange mix of crying and strangled screaming. His nails dig into Michael's back painfully, but Michael can barely feel it, absorbed in making sure the boy can't get out of his grip in any way, though he doesn't seem like he wants to anyway.

They stand there for ages. Luke's throat burns from screaming, his eyes almost sealed shut from the mix of new and old tears, Michael is almost certain the little stinging crescent moons on his back are bleeding and his back aches from bending down to hold on to the smaller boy, but neither of them care.

After Luke's screaming has died down somewhat, Michael takes a long, deep breath.

"Do you live in the apartment?" He asks quietly.

Luke nods simply, gulping in air.

Slowly, the two make their way off the rooftop and down the stairs, clinging on to each other for dear life.

-

Australian suicide hotline: 13 11 14

American suicide hotline: [phone]

U.K suicide hotline: [phone]

Canadian suicide hotline: [phone]

New Zealand suicide hotline: [phone]-777

French suicide hotline: [phone]

If you’re from any other country, please look up your national suicide hotline online and call if you need help. And talk to your close friends/family about what you’re going through. Get the help you need.

#hi please be safe #get help if you're struggling with shit #mental illness is serious #and you're worth something #okay i love you #here are the boring tags so i can get likes and reblogs to feel validated :') #muke #muke clemmings #cashton #michael clifford #luke hemmings #calum hood #ashton irwin #gay #lgbt #lgbt fiction #fanfiction #au #5sos #5 seconds of summer #phan #dan and phil #college #college au #i think thats it #okay bye #i love you all stay safe and healthy and sleep well

[allenmendezsr]

The Anti-anxiety Recipe Plan

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The Anti-anxiety Recipe Plan

 Buy Now

    ATTENTION: For anyone that struggles with high-stress levels, depression, insomnia, or a troubled state of mind, you can discover…

Dear Friend,

It’s time to put yourself back in the driver’s seat of your life. 

Poor mental health is a serious subject, and it should never be taken lightly. 

Over the next few minutes, I’m going to share with you how you can attack one of the major contributors of anxiety. 

Your stress, worry, and fears should never dictate how you should live your life ever again…

And you can conquer these feelings, WITHOUT taking any medication to “temporarily” ease your mind. 

First, you need to understand that the key to feeling calm and collected and not “lost in your head” is to master what some doctors call “your second brain.”

I know it sounds crazy, but let me explain.

Introducing…

Listen: there is no one simple cure for anxiety.

Since there are a lot of different variables that lead to it, it takes more than one change to get rid of anxiety for good.  

You see, most people don’t “get” how your diet plays a MAJOR role with how the rest of your body, and more importantly, your mind functions. 

Enter The Anti-Anxiety Recipe Plan.

If you’re someone who suffers from anxiety, this recipe book will help you take an entirely natural approach to improve your mind and well-being. 

You’ve heard this saying before—

“You are what you eat.”

And according to research from John Hopkins Medical School, whenever you’re nervous or anxious, you’re likely getting signals from an unexpected source—your gut. 

AKA your “second brain.” 

It’s the reason why you’ll feel your stomach “act up” right before an important event, like a job interview or even a hot date. 

Studies like this are revolutionizing the way people look at digestion, mood, your health, and yes, the way you think.

The recipes inside The Anti Anxiety Recipe Plan remove ingredients that inflame your gut, leave you in a sluggish mental state, or trigger anxiety. 

That’s why the launch for this book is taking the health and wellness community by storm… 

Instead of eating recipes full of refined and unnatural foods, The Anti Anxiety Recipe Plan uses ingredients like antioxidants, healthy fats, and healing herbs. 

And they’re not just good for you. Inside, you’ll find 50+ anxiety-relieving recipes so mouth-watering, they’ll blow your favorite stuffed crust pizza out of the water.

Dishes like Korean Style Steak and Kimchi Wraps…Sweet Potato Frittatas…Turmeric Tahini Buddha Bowls…Crispy Baked Chicken Cutlets…and Lemon Poppylicious Energy Balls

(And they blast anxiety away with each bite)

These “Holistic Mind Soothing Ingredients” are time-tested, proven, all-natural ingredients that BANISH anxiety and SOOTHE your mind.

Not only that, but you can use them to regain your health, energy, and vitality. 

How?

Each recipe leverages the power of the Paleo Diet.

Because sure, Paleo is still making waves everywhere.

It’s recently been featured on popular shows like Rachael Ray and Dr. Oz, and it’s backed by leading Doctors and Nutritionists. It’s even used by celebrities like Megan Fox, Jessica Biel, and Anne Hathaway!

And for good reason:

The Paleo diet works by eating whole foods that have kept humans healthy for centuries. 

The core principles are simple:

No processed foods

No dairy

No refined sugars

Basically, if your “stone age ancestors” didn’t eat it, neither should you.

Every meal in this diet usually has 2/3 vegetables and 1/3 of lean protein, fruits, and healthy fat. 

However, it’s not all fun and games…

Because before today, going Paleo meant giving up ALL gluten, dairy, processed sugar, and artificial ingredients.

HOWEVER…

The Anti-Anxiety Recipe Plan is changing all of that…

And lets us indulge in appetizing, paleo-friendly versions of everything we’re told to “give up” on the paleo diet.

Imagine!

Avo Choco Mousse…Maple Macaroons…Cherry Chocolate Chip Smoothies…Cinnamon Apples…

Wait until you see the gorgeous photos below.

But before we get there, allow me to introduce myself:

Hi, my name is Danny Jeffers.

I’m a health and wellness enthusiast and for years I’ve struggled with life-crippling anxiety. That’s why for the past six months, I’ve been obsessed with one single goal…

Today, I’m proud to say I’ve finally cracked the “Anxiety-Code”. I’ve discovered 50+ Anti-Anxiety recipes that are downright to-die-for…

And I want to share them with you too.

So you can nourish both your mind and body, live a life full of energy, and escape your negative thoughts… 

WITHOUT using medication.

WITHOUT giving up your favorite guilty pleasures.

And WITHOUT eating the same, bland foods every day.

What’s more: these recipes will work for you even if you’ve tried other diets…

You see, you don’t have to be a whiz in the kitchen, and you don’t need to give up hours of your time to figure out each recipe. 

The holistic, mind-soothing ingredients in The Anti-Anxiety Recipe Plan are here to calm you down, not cause any more stress.

It’s difficult to share but I think it’s important so here we go…

I didn’t know I was going to end up in the ER that day.

It was a regular Thursday morning. And as I got out of bed, I whipped up what I thought at the time, was a “healthy” breakfast.

If you saw me in public you would think nothing was wrong with me.

I exercised every day, had a good job, a girlfriend, and had a ton of friends. 

Yet despite looking like everything was “right” in my life, I was exhausted and beat myself up daily with self-criticism.

I hated my life for no good reason at all…

My mind was foggy. My head was constantly dizzy. 

I just felt so…off.

Sound familiar?

At the same time, I felt like I had to always be “on edge.” 

I overthought EVERYTHING. 

Sometimes it felt like I would just “forget” how to talk to people too. 

“Should I talk now?”

“Am I saying the right thing?”

“How do I know everything is going to be okay?” 

But it gets worse.

These “symptoms” only scratch the surface. 

Because the second noon hit that day, it was like someone hijacked my mind. 

I was in the middle of a small meeting for my work, right in the heart of downtown Santa Monica, California. 

Something in my head screamed at me to leave NOW.

I swear, it was like my mind was warning me that I was being chased down by a tiger. 

My breathing grew heavy, so I stood up and rushed outside of the building to get some fresh air.

But still, I could sense my anxiety clawing right through my skin… 

I looked around me. 

It really was a beautiful day in Santa Monica, the sun was shining, the palm trees swaying…

But underneath it all, I felt broken. 

I thought to myself, “did somebody drug me?”

Nothing made sense. 

After pacing around the streets like a madman, I used my shaky hands to call up an Uber so I could retreat to my home. 

I just knew I couldn’t stay here. 

Then, after waiting for what felt like HOURS I finally got into my Uber and continued to sweat bullets.

Inside the car, I desperately scrambled to tell my driver that I NEEDED to go to the ER NOW. 

He rushed me over. 

And as you can probably guess, they couldn’t tell me a straight answer for what was wrong with me.  

A kind nurse told me it might’ve been just vertigo and it would eventually “go away.”

The rest of the staff said to “sleep it off…”

Seriously? 

That was the best answer I could get? 

I must’ve been going insane. I wanted to give up.

Was this just a one-time thing?

But for the next few months, my anxiety would rear its ugly head again…

My negative self-talk would creep in at random parts of the day.

And my brain would fire off alarm bells during normal moments…

Like right before an important presentation I had to give at work…

While talking to a coworker…

Sitting in a crowded room with strangers…or friends…

And even while getting a haircut…!

This intense anxiety dripped into other parts of my life too…

Eventually, I couldn’t focus at work anymore.

And my relationship with my beautiful girlfriend strained. 

I felt suffocated from it all. 

But here’s the thing.

I never told anyone I suffered from anxiety. 

That’s because I didn’t want to deal with the “stigma” or feel embarrassed over it.  

Still, I couldn’t stand feeling this way anymore.

I started experimenting with antidepressants. 

Whenever doctors would prescribe me medicine or a new over the counter pill, I would ask them if I could have three more…

I just wanted to do whatever it took to finally BANISH my anxiety for good. 

You name it, I’ve tried it.

Yet nothing really worked.

Sometimes they would only make me feel a little better…

But I still felt some symptoms.

The rush of uncertainty….

The heightened senses…

Me questioning every tiny thing…

And that’s IF I didn’t feel like a zombie.

I couldn’t go on like this.

So I started looking for a holistic approach. 

No, not meditation. 

It’s already hard enough to meditate WITHOUT anxiety, how in the world would I be able to “clear my mind” with it?

I thought I could find something else. 

The more I dove into this problem, the more I learned.

And then I discovered that…

Remember what I mentioned earlier.

Some doctors call your gut “the second brain.”

Sounds strange but it’s true.

Your gut and mind are connected. 

Together, they help determine your overall health, so when your gut health is out of balance, your body and mind will know it too!

Like I said, I discovered this after reviewing studies from John Hopkins Medical School, Harvard, The National Center for Biotechnology, and Psychology Today. 

For example, you probably already knew that most fried foods like french fries, chicken, and onion rings are terrible for your health.

They’re cooked in hydrogenated oil so they’re harder to digest.

These foods will sap your energy levels, even HOURS after you eat them! 

Yet it may surprise you to know that some “everyday” foods you might think are “healthy” for you, throw your entire nervous system out of whack too. 

Sometimes, their negative effect is so powerful, you can overstimulate your nervous system to the point that it feels like you’re reliving a stressful life event or bad memory. 

And I’m not just talking about coffee, or anything with caffeine either. 

Too much dairy and something as simple as your favorite fruit juice can also give you fatigue and make it difficult to concentrate. 

I took a good, hard look at my diet and what I’ve been feeding “my second brain” for years…

Here I was lost in my daily dose of mental hell, and the reason was right in front of me this entire time…

So now you know that your gut has a deeper connection to the rest of your body, and especially your anxiety…

What do you do?

You can’t “numb” your senses with medication, because they only help “manage” your anxiety for the short term.

And you can’t just “skip” certain meals, because the drop in your body’s sugar levels can lead to a spike in anxiety too!

When one of my friends introduced me to an all-natural, real food, paleo diet… my state of mind finally began to return to normal.

Almost instantly, my brain fog, dizziness, and near fight-or-flight symptoms vanished. 

My anxiety wasn’t gnawing at my conscious 24/7. 

And for the first time in what must’ve been YEARS, I was overflowing with real, natural joy.

But like I said before, the only drawback?

Paleo makes you cut grains, high-fat meats, sugar, salty foods…

The list goes on…

Basically this means I couldn’t keep eating anything tasty.

My pizza, doughnuts, and everything in between.

As a result, my cravings went bonkers!

Perhaps you can relate:

I wanted to chow down on cheesecake after dinner…

I wanted to devour a frozen pizza with my friends and watch Game of Thrones with a cold one in my hand…

And there’s nothing else out there that hits the spot like my mom’s infamous spaghetti and meatballs.

But now I couldn’t indulge in any of those guilty pleasures…

So I searched far and wide, looking for a chef who understood the deep relationship food has with your mind…

Not only that, but I was also looking for someone who knew how to whip-up delicious, mouth-watering meals in a snap. 

And that’s when I met…

Let me introduce, Melissa.

Melissa is a certified nutritional chef and graduate from The Academy of Culinary Nutrition. 

She has a knack for re-creating “unhealthy dishes” and turning them into a healthy meal packed with flavor. 

You’ve probably seen some of her recipes cooked on Dr. Oz, and featured on The Kitchen Blog for Fisher, Paykel Appliances, and Readers Digest. 

Melissa gets it. 

Not only is she extremely passionate about cooking, but she loves sharing her knowledge of all things health. 

I got the chance to meet her in New York City after going to one of her health and wellness workshops. 

At the event, she talked about her personalized nutrition programs, and she gave a demonstration of one of her original recipes.

But what really struck a chord with me was when she talked about the “gut-brain connection” I already did a ton of research on. 

When the event ended, I went up to her and shared with her what I’ve learned about this subject too. 

She was open with me and she shared her struggles with chronic stress, food sensitivities, fatigue, and anxiety. 

At first she thought there was nothing seriously wrong with her…maybe you’re like her. 

You see, she worked long hours and was a “road warrior” that was constantly on the go.

Whenever she would visit a traditional doctor to tackle this problem, they would just try to give her pills…

But there was no way she would go through that downward spiral.

Instead, she took another close look at her recipes. 

She figured out how she could adjust them so that they would not only help her with food allergies, but also with her stress and anxiety too! 

And of course, as a top chef, she knew she had made sure they were delicious. 

The result?

The Anti-Anxiety Recipe Plan, her new recipe book filled with 50+ mouth-watering anxiety relieving recipes that lets you indulge while keeping your mind clear and your heart happy.

While I was with her in person, she shared with me a couple of the dishes she put together in her book. 

I sampled them, and had to double check with her to ask her again what the ingredients were…

I told her right then that she had to share the recipes in this book with more people. 

Listen: no one wants to force bland, lifeless food down their throat. 

That’s why Inside The Anti-Anxiety Recipe Plan, you can be rest assured, every recipe is bursting with flavor.

Each bite of the chocolate chip muffins or cranberry orange bread is warm and scrumptious.

The mouth-watering sweet potato frittata is savory. 

And the chicken cutlets and broiled salmon are rich and filling. 

The cherry on top is that if you’re looking to shed an extra few pounds and feel more energized than ever, they can be made PALEO…

What’s cool is most of these can be made within minutes… and without any expensive equipment.

Meaning using exactly what you have laying around your kitchen right now, you can dig in immediately after work… guilt free!

You can forget having to go to different grocery stores every week…

Each ingredient can be found at your local grocery chain. So these recipes aren’t just delicious and good for you, they’re convenient too!

Goodbye grueling grocery store visits… hello easy mood and easy food.

Remember: each recipe is natural and nourishes your “second brain.” This means you won’t have to deal with any weird chemicals.

For each page, there’s a nutritional breakdown and explanation for how each ingredient soothes your mind and body. 

So the bottom line is this: there’s something for everyone!

And just to reiterate one more time…

Look: nobody likes complicated recipes, especially if you’re someone suffering from anxiety and high-stress levels. 

That’s why each recipe in The Anti-Anxiety Recipe Plan is made simple! 

Most can be prepared in 15-30 minutes…

And some, even quicker!

Don’t worry, you don’t have to be Gordon Ramsay to whip these up. 

Even if you struggle to prepare the most basic recipes, you’ll still be able to make these tasty, mind-soothing meals, snacks, and desserts in The Anti-Anxiety Recipe Plan with no problem. 

You might also be concerned about the ingredients…

And specifically, where you can get them…

Now, I’ll be straight with you:

If this is your first cookbook, then sure, some of the ingredients will be new.

But most — if not all — are laying around your kitchen already.

Things like cinnamon, baking soda, lemon juice…

And any ingredients you need to get can be found in your closest “normal” grocery store or found online (from the comfort of your own home) on Amazon.

Plus each recipe includes a breakdown of how fast it takes to make each meal. You’ll also have an inside look behind HOW each ingredient nourishes both your mind and body.

I wanted to share with you what’s included in The Anti Anxiety Recipe Plan because originally, the price for this hovered over $65.

However, Melissa and her the publisher’s have agreed to give this away for NOWHERE near that amount!

All in all, you’re getting:

And I’m even going to make sure that you don’t risk a penny when you pick up a copy of The Anti-Anxiety Recipe Plan today.

That’s because you’re backed by this…

I want to share this recipe book with you, at no risk.

All the pressure is on me.

Why am I doing this? 

Because I’ve been there.

I know what it feels like to try and make a difference in your health and well-being.

And I know how it is to try and make something healthy and delicious at the end of every anxiety-ridden day.

I get how complicated things can get in the kitchen.

So regardless if this is your first time on the paleo diet, or your first time cooking real, natural food that’s good for your health and well-being. 

I want you to experience the life-changing benefits I went through with these holistic, mind-soothing ingredients.

And The Anti-Anxiety Recipe Plan does just that.

You’re at a crossroads now.

You can do what I did and spend the next few months or even YEARS testing out every antidepressant you can imagine trying to get rid of your anxiety alone…

Spending thousands of dollars on doctors visits, therapy sessions, and more…

Only to still “get by” trapped inside your mental prison…

Or… you can skip all of that insanity, ditch the pills, and save a ton of money by investing in your health today.

And remember, Melissa’s publishers are giving away this $65+ value recipe plan… All for the price of a medium size pizza.

It’s an investment in your happiness … which I’m sure is worth a lot more to you than the tiny cost of this recipe book.

Don’t you agree?

And remember, you risk nothing. You have a full 60 days to try out these recipes in The Anti Anxiety Recipe Plan yourself.

If you’re not jumping with joy over your improved mood, clearer mind, and if you’re not excited about how mouth-watering these recipes are…

You don’t pay a dime. The recipe book will still be yours to keep, as a “thank you” for trying. 

Let’s do this — together — click the button below and claim your copy of The Anti-Anxiety Recipe Plan right now:

Q: How will these recipes get rid of my anxiety?

Your mind and body are connected. In fact, some doctors call your gut the “second brain.” That’s why whenever you feel nervous, your stomach may growl or you’ll feel a little queasy.

So if you’re feeding your body the wrong foods, you’ll notice you feel more anxious, sluggish, and just “not right.”

The delicious meals inside The Anti Anxiety Recipe Plan are backed by holistic mind-soothing ingredients you can use to nourish your “second brain.”

Q: Can I find all the ingredients in a normal grocery store?

Yes, almost all of the ingredients in The Anti Anxiety Recipe Plan can be found in regular grocery stores (i.e. Target, Kroger, Wal-Mart, Publix, etc…) They’re also all on Amazon if you want to shop from the comfort of your own home, and can definitely be found in health food stores like Whole Foods.

Q: Are all meals, including the desserts, paleo-approved?

Yes, all of the breakfast, entrées, sides, salads, soups, and desserts are paleo-approved.

Q: How hard is it to prepare each meal following this book?

A majority of the meals and desserts can be put together in 15 minutes or less (not including cook/chill time) – the recipes are meant to be easy to follow so you can whip up these tasty dishes and treats for yourself and your loved ones with minimal effort.

Q: What allergens are in The Anti Anxiety Recipe Plan?

Some of the potential allergens you may want to be aware of include coconut (coconut flour, coconut oil, coconut milk/cream, and coconut butter), nuts (like almonds, cashews, macadamia nuts, and pecans), and eggs. Options for using butter or ghee in some recipes can easily be replaced with coconut oil to avoid all dairy.

Q: Is The Anti Anxiety Recipe Plan really backed by a 100% money-back-guarantee?

Yes. You risk nothing. You have a full 60 days to try out these recipes in The Anti Anxiety Recipe Plan yourself.

If you’re not jumping with joy over your improved mood, clearer mind, and if you’re not excited about how mouth-watering these recipes are…

You don’t pay a dime. The recipe book will still be yours to keep, as a “thank you” for trying.

Q: I still don’t believe these recipes can end my intense anxiety. How is this different and what really makes this work?

Intense anxiety or depression is nothing to take lightly. I know, because I struggled with both for not months, but years. 

The Anti Anxiety Recipe Plan is different because it takes a natural, holistic approach to restore balance back to your mind, health, and well-being. 

Sure, sometimes the strongest medical pills out there can “temporarily” relieve your suffering…but why not attack a major source for your anxiety and nourish your mind with the right nutrients instead?