Tw Paranoia - Tumblr Posts

Im writing the second part of "knowing is safe" and it's mostly cutie being paranoid and gosh is it hurting my brain writing it.

Knowing is Safe CH.2

Chapter 2

Fandom: Redacted ASMR

Couple: Geordi/Cutie

1.9 k Words

90% angst 10% comfort ( I actually did the math)

Intilizised words like this are cutie's thoughts. and the way there formated is important so pay attention ( if you have questions don't be afraid to ask)

Also, the beginning might seem a little confusing because I was trying to keep cutie gender neutral which was hard considering the subject.

For the TW I'm putting a lot of it in a category, still listed but I want it to be clear that the things aren't actually having and are just cuties paranoia and anxiety

TW/CW: Paranoia (Robbery, kidnapping, home invasion, intruder, murder, death, blood, being followed, being stalked, being attacked, abandonment)Cursing. Hinted homophobia and transphobia. slef doubt and hatred.

Let me know if I missed a trigger or if you spot any spelling mistakes.

Feedback is encouraged  

Click here if you want to see more of my work and follow me for more!!!

PAST

You looked at the page, unsure why it was so enticing. One of the people looked like you. Or what you want to look like.

Beautiful!

Handsome!

Cool!

Confident!

The other person, the same gender as the other. They were, attractive, you focused on their lips, the ones connected to who you wish to grow up to be.

I want that.

The love?

The kiss?

the body?

All of it.

You want to kiss someone.

Yes.

Anyone?

I think so…

You could experiment!

Experiment?

Kiss girls!

Kiss boys! 

Kiss people who want to kiss you!

Do people want to kiss me?

There has to be.

I can kiss anyone, of any gender?

I can kiss anyone, of any gender!

I can be anyone, of any gender.?

I can be anyone, of any gender!

If it'll make us happy!

I want to kiss-

“Pumpkin! We need to talk!”

Shit!

Was she listening?

She's always listening.

I hate her.

I love her.

She protecting us.

She's spying on us.

You make your way down the stairs, your mom has a sour look on her face.

“Pumpkin, you can't be having those thoughts. It's umm- those thoughts are not good for you.”

“Why?

“BECAUSE!”

Your father's hand lands on your mom's, calming her.

Thank you, dad.

“Because they lead to… experimenting, and we don't want you to get caught up in that kind of stuff. It’s not for you.”

PRESENT

“Everything’s normal. Human, unpowered normal. Our relationship went back in time, we both kind of ignored that I'm a telepath, that we’re just two normal people in a normal relationship. We’re happy."

No, we're not.

Yes, we are.

We have to be.

For Geordi.

It makes him happy.

So it has to make us happy.

Does it make him happy?

It has to.

“But what about those thoughts you mentioned last week? You mentioned how you don't ever feel safe. Could you elaborate on that?”

He remembered?

Of course, he remembered it was his job.

But we don't want him to.

Then lead him away.

Say it was an accident.

Say it was a lie.

Tell him the truth.

DON'T!!

Tell him you forgot your meds!

“Oh, did I say that? I actually forgot to take my anxiety medication, so we can move on from that.”

He sighed.

Why did he sigh?

He looks disappointed.

I should read his mind.

NO!

Geordi hate’s that.

Hates you.

Just focus on the session.

Wait whys is he on his phone?

He's texting someone.

Does he know?

Is he going to tell someone?

Will I be fired?

I'm gonna be fired.

That doesn't make sense.

They don't trust me.

What if they see me as a threat?

What if they lock me away?

Then Geordi wouldn't be safe.

He'll miss me.

Not if they erase his memory.

They wouldn't.

They would.

If they did it'd be good.

Good?

Geordi would finally be free.

Of you.

Of your powers.

Of the magical world.

You hear that?

What? 

You zone back into the world, hearing your work-assigned therapist clear his throat.

“ Even if that's the case your supervisors have started to take notice of how you've changed. Your paperwork is hard to understand and when speculating on a case you jump to wild conclusions that hurt the case. You're less social than before and you've become very panicked by the smallest things. You've also refused to use your powers. These actions have been recorded by D.U.M.P for the past two months. It's clear to me that your recent mood isn't the cause of missed medication but something else.”

Your breathing rises, you try to steady it, hide that what he's saying bothers you, your thoughts are so jumbled you can't make much out other than panic.

“ And from what you've told me I think the cause is the absence of using your power. Up until 2 months ago, you were in constant use of your power. And from what I understand that was the result of your mother's abuse-”

“She didn't abuse me!”

Did she?

No.

But he's the expert.

He didn't live it.

He doesn't understand.

Maybe that's good.

What?

She was protecting us.

That's what you think.

Because she taught you that.

He's right.

NO, HE'S NOT SHE LOVED ME!!

Yes, she did.

Still does.

But what she did is still wrong.

“I'm sorry for using that word. Let me restart. Your mother raised you with a toxic belief, that you could only be safe if you knew what others were thinking, she used this as an excuse to constantly be in your head, not giving you a moment of privacy. When you applied this belief to your relationship you learned how this belief hurt others, so you tried to stop, cold turkey. This has caused you to become extremely anxious and paranoid. As your therapist, I think you do need to become comfortable in your own head, comfortable not constantly reading people's minds. I would also suggest you talk with your partner, I think couples therapy would benefit your relationship. Oh, it appears that our time-”

You were out of the room before he could say goodbye. You rushed to collect your stuff. You always had therapy right after work so you could leave right after. You rush to the parking garage. 

Car? car!? where’s my car!?!

It's over there.

Where?

I don't see it.

It was stolen.

It was broken into.

No, it's there.

I see it.

 Hurry!

Wipe your tears.

Call Geordi.

No!

Wipe your tears.

Calm down!!

It's not that serious.

Wipe your tears.

You can't drive like this.

Slow your breathing.

Call Geordi.

Ask him to pick you up.

Phone, where?

Purse.

Dial his number.

No contacts are faster.

Wait!

What if the car is bugged!?

It’s not.

But it is!

All your gonna do is call Geordi.

But that's how he knows.

The therapist.

He's listening.

He's not a telepath.

Isn't he?

No, he's a stealth.

So he’s watching.

No!

He's not doing anything to you!

I can't drive.

Take a taxi.

No, I'll be kidnapped.

Train!

Ok.

Where's the train station?

Right.

Left!

I look lost.

You look like an easy target.

There! train station!

Did you lock the car?

Yes.

No!!

Someone will break in.

Steal your car.

I locked it.

No.

You should have driven home.

I can't.

I'm…

Crying.

Not trustworthy.

With? 

My self.

So? You don't matter.

SHUT UP!

People are looking.

No their not.

Read their minds!!

No.

They want to hurt us!!

No.

You missed your stop!!

When!?!

 Just now!!

No.

map! map! map!

I didn't, it’s the next one.

People hate you.

You should run away!

Just start taking random trains!!

No.

Why?

Because people care for me.

Do they?

Geordi-

He doesn't.

My coworkers-

Are just co-workers.

You don't even have friends.

It's our stop!!

Get off!!

Go left!!

Right!!

Are we lost!?!?

No!

I know this place.

Behind you!!!

What!?!?!

Were being followed!!!

Don't look!!!

Read their mind!!!

No!!

Keep walking home.

Grab your pepper spray!!!

I can't find it!!!!

Hurry they're getting closer!!!

There’s another one!!!!

In Front of you !!!!!

They're gonna attack you!!!!!

Hurry!!!!!

I got it!!!!!

Wait

Their friends.

Meeting each other.

Of course.

Stupid.

Stupid.

What a fucking selfish idiot.

Not everything is about you.

Nothing is ever about you.

Wipe your tears!

Look.

Geordi’s car.

He’s home!

Is he?

“Geordi?”

Nothing.

Silence!

He’s not here!!

But his car.

He was taken!!!

He's dead!!!!

You couldn't protect him.

You killed him.

You ruined his life.

No! He is alive!

He's alive.

You yell out for him again, your voice shaking heavily as you walk toward your bedroom door.

Open the door.

Don't!

His dead body is behind that door.

Blood everywhere.

NO!!!

He's here!

He's alive!

I know it!

How? 

I just do.

No, you don't.

You don't even know if there's an intruder in your house.

Is there an intruder?!

No.

Yes!!!!!

How else would Geordi die?

Open the door!

Wipe your tears!

You open the door, relaxing for a second when you find it empty, but then your brain starts working again.

Where is he?!?!?!

He's hurt!!

He ran away.

He was taken!!!

He left because he hates you and couldn't stand to be around a selfish idiot freak

Selfish idiot freak.

Selfish.

Idiot.

Freak.

Unlovable.

Alone.

Alone.

Don't wipe your tears.

You deserve this.

You are a monster.

Monster.

Disgusting.

You're so far in your head you're unaware that your thoughts are now words. Unaware of everything happening around you. You don't hear the door to the garage open of Geordi talking to you.

“Cutie, is that you? I heard you come in, but I didn't hear your car. I passed a farmers market on my way home earlier, I got a deal on your favorite fruit. I went to go grab it from the garage. Where are you? Oh there yo-”

Your trance loosens when you hear a wooden crate fall on the floor, wiping your head around to see your boyfriend quickly trying to get over the fallen boxes. He's rushing to you.

He's going to kill you!!!!!!!

No, he wants to help.

Why?

You ruined him!

Ruined everything!

I love him!!

He loves me!!

He's safe.

He's my safe space.

He not gonna hurt us.

He is safe.

You fall into his arms when he gets close enough, your arms wrap around his squeezing him as you cry into his chest, repeating his name.

“Cutie, cutie? What- what wrong?”

“I thought you were dead. That, someone, broke in, and killed you, and- and I couldn't- I- you were dead.”

“What, babe, what made you think that!? Were you threatened? What happened?”

Geordi tries to look for any sign you were harmed. the movement is sudden, startling you into raising your voice, trying to let out your frustration, trying to shut the voices up.

“I Don't Know! I just - they- I just- nowhere is safe- I can- it hurts! I don't want to hear it anymore- it hurt so much i- I can't stand it- i- please- please help!”

“Okay- okay cutie, why do I do, what do you need?”

“I don't- I don't know-maybe-no I can't -i - but it hurts- he hates it-but it hurts. I-can I? In your head?”

The worry that stained his face started to blend with surprise.

“Yes, yes, go ahead.”

You look into his eyes wanting so hard to just jump into his head, to leave your thoughts behind, but you can't.

Don't.

He'll hate you.

Don't!

He'll hate you!

Don't!!

He'll hate you!!

Don't!!!

He'll hate you!!!

Don't!!!!!

He'll hate you!!!!!

You start to slide down Geordi falls you down, gently holding you, not controlling you just supporting you. You cry harder.

“Ok- ok cutie, I've got you.”

“I just- I don't - I'm so lost- I can't- i- fuck!”

“Shh, it's ok, love- I'm here ok? You don't need to talk. I- you can tell me everything when you- when your calm down and you're ready.”

Geordi gently places his hands on either side of your face, lightly guiding your face to his. You can see how his eyes water and the way his lip quivers.

You did that.

You hurt him.

You try to look away but Geordi prevents that.

“Cutie, don't go there. I don't- I don't know what you thinking but- but don't. Stay here, I've got you. Okay”

You nod as tears sting your cheek hot. Geordi moves his hands, engulfing you in a hug. His arms on your back, moving up and down. You focus on it, the feeling, the sound, focus on Geordi.

He's here.

He's holding us.

He's here.

Here.

Here.

Safe.

Home.

He's home.

He loves us.

Your eyes drift closed, exhausted, you let sleep take over, finally feeling safe enough to be vulnerable.

WIP Wednesday

I'm trying to be more productive, so I'm going to post one of these every week. Today's is a small section from "Knowing is Safe" Part 3. It's a flashback of cutie's past.

Trigger warning for anxiety, paranoia, emotionally abusive parent, neglectful parent.

Shes not going to 

She did last time

And the time before that

And the time before that

And all the other times

She's tired of it

But she threw us out

It's not our fault

Yes it is

We blocked her

We stopped her from reading our mide

Stopped her from protecting us

But I don't want her to continually be in my mind

I want privacy

I want to feel like I can

Think without being heard

Be myself

You can

Not with her in here

she s your mom

But it hurts

What was that?

A twig

Snapping

A person

Where

I can't see

It's too dark

I'm scared

I want mom

“MOM! MOM SOMEONE IS OUT HERE. PLEASE LET ME IN. I'M SORRY I WON'T DO IT AGAIN.”

“THAT'S WHAT YOUR SISTER SAID AND WHERE IS SHE NOW?” Your sister

She's safe

She taught us how to block mom

She did this

No, she helped us

She can help again 

You stop knocking on the door and start walking away. Away from home, away from your mom. You walked the streets in the dark, with no phone no flashlight, just the clothes on your back. Summer clothes.

Its cold

I know

I wish we had a jacket

Is this the street?

Yes

You turn down the street, wishing you were wearing warmer, longer clothes. When you picked out this outfit you didn't think you'd end up out this late, in the cold. 

People

Bad

Its a group

Brown bags

Liquor

Eyes down

Keep walking

What do I do if they approach

I don't know

No weapon

Just our hands and feet

Keep walking

Keep walking

Speed up

Door

Inside

Sister

Safe

You open the door to the building your sister lives in quickly rushing to her apartments, even though no one was following you. You hoped you remembered correctly the first and only time you were here. Tears from earlier sprung back to life as you frantically knock on the door. Deja Vu from minutes ago, days ago, and weeks ago flood your mind as you recall all the time you were at your house door, begging, crying screaming for your mother to open the door. Today was the worst of it, shed never lock you out for this long, or this late, your knuckles were never this red and your voice was never this hurt. 

Aug 13, 2024

TW: Can you make a spider noir x goth coquette reader? And where the read struggles with a ED/paranoia and maybe SH/thoughts of it. And maybe put in there they have bpd/other mental disorders that cause the thoughts for it….that’s all I got off the top of my head but you can add other stuff if you want I just want comfort angst based off what I’m going through rn

If you need help or someone to talk to I'm here :)

Also TW!! To people who won't be able to handle topics like these don't read and if you do I'm not responsible for anything.

Spiderman Noir x goth! reader

Peter watched as you giddily put on your outfit. Your clothes were different from what he knew it that's what he loved about you. You didn't fit in the social norms and had your own sense of style. He found your outfits to be gorgeous and loved seeing you dressed up.

He planned on taking you to a nice restaurant. There was no reason he just wanted to take you somewhere nice. He wanted to see you smile. When you were finished with getting all dolled up he grabbed you by your waist and pulled you in close.

"You always look so good all dolled up" he said and eyes you up and down slowly to take in everything. You smiled and lightly shoved his shoulder "So I don't look nice when I'm not dressed up?" You teasingly said which clearly made him choke and fumble over his words. "That's not what I meant you always look nice I just love when you put on your gothic outfits" you giggle and roll your eyes and place a kiss on his cheek. "Let's for we don't wanna be late for our reservation"

-----

You both sat at the table and conversed in conversation. Everything was lively and light and you felt good. Then when you got your food everything crashed and spiraled for you. You felt eyes on you everywhere it felt like everyone was watching you eat. Deep down you knew it wasn't true but the thoughts clouded your mind.

You took and bite of your food and you were visibly tense and your hands were clammy. You felt like throwing up the pressure you felt was heavy. The stares felt like heavy weights on your back. You covered your mouth and nervously looked around. No one was looking at you but the stares didn't go away. Peter noticed something was up and looked at you with worry. "Are you okay?" He asked

Your head snapped at him and you nervously fidgeted. "Y-yeah I just uh" you swallowed nervously and fidgeted uncomfortably "I'm gonna use the bathroom.." you said an stood up and walked away. You brought your arms to your chest and picked up your pace. People looked at you with harsh stares and disgust. You felt like crying and you practically slammed the door to the bathroom open. You rushed into a stall and let tears slide down your cheeks.

You brought your fists to your head and started to punch your self. "Stupid stupid stupid..." You mumbled and let out a choked sob. You felt overwhelmed and you couldn't process anything. Your vision blurred and your thoughts raced. Why were you crying? You had nothing to be upset about no one was watching you. But Peter was... he probably thinks your fat. You did order a lot and compared to him your a log while he's a stick. Yeah.. he's probably judging you probably grossed out. Before you could process it your fingers were shoved down your throat, making you gag and your dinner came hurling out.

You saw the vomit sitting in the toilet and you grew disgusted with yourself. You hated yourself for doing this but at the same time it's the only way for you not the be fat. Your fingers found there way into you that again and you threw up more vomit. And you repeated it again and again until you felt like passing out. You couldn't produce anymore tears and the old ones dried up. You slowly blinked and looked down at your pathetic form. You felt sorry for yourself, your fingers wet and sticky, your throat sore and stomach aching. Your limbs felt numb and you adverted your eyes to the wrists. They were decently healed, in he past you cut and scratched yourself but Peter helped you. He was by your side and supported you and got you help. You felt like crying again just thinking about Peter. Your slowly got up and flushed the toilet. You went to the sink and washed your hands. You looked in the mirror and saw the mess that was yourself. Your makeup was ruined and running down your face and your hair was a little messed up.

You walked out walking slowly because your legs felt like the could give out any minute. Your vision was a bit blurry and it felt like everything was spinning. You made it to the table and Peter took one look at you and was worried sick. "What happened and you alright?" He asked his vice full of panic and you looked at him with a blank look. You fell in his arms "Can we leave please?" You said in a cracked voice "Yeah of course..." he mumbled and held you. He grabbed your waist and lead you out of the restaurant.

He picked you up in his arms and and whispered little words of affirmation to you. You cling to him and just closed your eyes listening to his voice. He rushed to your little shared apartment.

He placed you on the bed and laid next you. "What's wrong? Why did you cry? Are you okay?" He asked. You slowly turned towards him and curled into a ball next to him. "I- I'm having these thoughts again...I you don't think I'm fat right? You think my bodyweight is normal and-" you whispered and cut yourself before you broke down again. Peters eyes widen and he held you in his arms. "No I don't think your fat your perfect the way you are and it's okay if your having thoughts again, I'll always be by your side. I'll never leave you I promise, I'm going to take care of you" he said

You tightened your grip on his vest and buried your face in his chest. You let your tears fall free again and he felt his best getting soaked but he didn't care. He held you firm against him and whispered sweet nothings in your ear to try to comfort you. Peter rubbed your back with one hand gently and kissed the top of your head. "It's gonna be alright I promise"

A porn bot with the last name "Birdinground" just followed me. Why did you put the bird in the ground ma'am. I would be mad at you for doing that to the bird but the idea of it is just so silly and strange that it's taken my mind of the paranoia I'm suffering due to watching Saw for the first time. How can I think about the pig man jumping out in that parking garage when there's a bird in the ground. There's a bird in the ground. It's no time for shaking in fear of the pig man. A bird in the ground is too much to think about. I have to think about the bird. I have to.

Me all day after watching saw two: I'm not even scared! This is very good, now that I know the face behind the pig monster I'm not really scared of it, woohoo :3

Me the second I open up the dark cavernous trash compactor in the back of the store: oh god oh fuck she's in there and she's about to get me with a frucking needle and I'm gonna get tortur

A porn bot with the last name "Birdinground" just followed me. Why did you put the bird in the ground ma'am. I would be mad at you for doing that to the bird but the idea of it is just so silly and strange that it's taken my mind of the paranoia I'm suffering due to watching Saw for the first time. How can I think about the pig man jumping out in that parking garage when there's a bird in the ground. There's a bird in the ground. It's no time for shaking in fear of the pig man. A bird in the ground is too much to think about. I have to think about the bird. I have to.

CONFIDENCE QUICKLY DASHED BY HIS FATHER’S WORDS, MICHAEL’S EYES FLICKER FROM THE MAN TO THE FLOOR. It’s hard not to feel like he’s being watched now, like the people in the distance can see inside his head, know they’ve successfully tricked him […] and, hair falling sulkily over blue eyes, Michael deflates. A childish petulance is creeping up on him, mingling discordantly with the sudden paranoia of his father’s warning — I still did good, right? He wants to say, but keeps that choked under his tongue carefully.

“Nobody seemed suspicious.” He murmurs, and his own accent sounds wrong on his lips. It’s a thrilling kind of rebellion, a dumb kind of private revolution, to switch to a bland, default American accent in front of coworkers (in front of Jeremy). Like he can hide the blood on his hands. But he’s uncomfortable speaking with his real voice now, and it makes his words off-key, flat. “They all sounded genuine. The ones I spoke with, anyway.” The instructions had been standard, routine — mixing with the other staff, overhearing any rumours about the disappearances, their employer. Michael had thought it straightforward . . . But can’t shake the feeling that he’s somehow failed a test for taking things at face value. William’s gaze is distant, and he knows he’s watching the employees ahead, more shrewd and more capable than Michael thinks he’ll ever be. "But they - there'd be no reason to lie to me. 'S not like they know who I am. " Another benefit of going undercover and using a fake name at work, this one more practical: keeping a low profile means he can overhear anything about his father without employees being suspicious of him. As shittily - improvised as ' FRITZ SCHMIDT ' is, Michael's grown fond of the persona.

Focusing back on the figure next to him, he sidles just slightly closer, frowning in the same direction like he's just as unbothered by the lack of eye contact or direct attention. " You really think they would've lied to me . . . ? "

     @bitterborne ★ ❝ No one suspects anything. ❞ [ have some michael !!! ]            ★ ☆ HALLOWEEN-THEMED FNAF STARTERS

     “How sure of that are you?” Silver eyes stare at his son, only a fraction narrowed in suspicion. Even when he tried to suppress the darkest desires inside his mind, William always knew when somebody was suspicious -- the way they stare, the look of their eyes. The eyes tell everything.      Michael is a quick learner, but there are still so many things he must learn. William lived decades with the unyielding desire to end lives with his own hands -- even before he knew about remnant. Seeing all those judgmental stares back in his hometown gave him experience, knowing how to tell if somebody trusted the mask he put on.

     “Let your guard down, and that could be the end. Remember that, Michael.” His voice sounds so impersonal, distant as his focus trails away to observe the masses in the distance, “You don't need to know what they are feeling, but you can tell if they are lying through their eyes.”

TW: Eyes, Nightmare, Paranoia, eyestrain

"I always have the same dream," he said, "and every night, it feels like they're closing in more and more."

Real Alex Suffering…pt.1

Paranoia and Trauma, with a slight helping hand

Ahaha paranoia that someone is in my house waiting to kill me as soon as I fall asleep go brrrrr

thinking about the time i was 14 or 15 and in the psychiatrist's office and said something along the lines of, "no the government is definitely trying to hide something they keep telling us we have rights but we definitely don't it's a fascist state is what it is" and then he said "lets hook her up with some anti-psychotics" who's laughing now bitch

OMFG THIS FIC IS SO AMAZINGGGGG

I Got Your Bitch Movin'

part twelve | masterlist | part fourteen

Yuuji Itadori x f!reader x Megumi Fushiguro

Genre: Smut & Angst Notes: University AU, all characters aged up. Megumi is TROUBLE! But we already knew that, didn't we? Warnings: 18+, alcohol consumption, drug consumption, infidelity, gaslighting, manipulation, paranoia. Words: 7.1k

Synopsis: You’ve been dating Yuuji Itadori for nine months. He’s the best boyfriend you’ve ever had, he cares for you deeply and he’s amazing in the sack. When new boy Megumi moves to town and joins your art course, you are shocked to discover he isn’t the quiet introvert you suspected him to be.

The morning greets you as you lay in bed between the deathly limbo of wake and sleep. Your eyes are swollen, bleary. Thoughts aren’t yet yours and you can’t help but wonder if you’re thinking about the dreams of the previous night you had or if you’re starting to regain your own memories. There is a gnawing memory of feeling bitterly cold before you fell asleep. So it’s odd now that daybreak has arrived you’re practically lying in a pool of your own sweat. Your skin is coated and your forehead is drenched. It’s nice to be in Yuuji’s arms again at least. His chest is bare and you’ve never felt so at home with your face nuzzled into his skin. You snuggle in closer and he pulls you in tighter as you decide to go back to sleep. Regardless of your decision, your vision is greedy. You can’t refrain from opening up your eyes and looking at your surroundings. This isn’t your house. You left your house yesterday morning. In the car with Toji and Megumi. You went on a trip with your class. You spent the day with Megumi. You guys missed the bus. You went bowling. You argued. You stayed in the hotel with Megumi. With a racing heart and thrumming bass in your head, you sit upright and turn around. You hadn’t been in the arms of your pink-haired boyfriend. You’re cuddled up with your black-haired bully.

Fuck.

“The hell’s the matter with you?” Megumi asks after you scream the loudest you ever have and scramble out of bed. You fall to the ground and back away from him quickly. He sits up and rubs the sleep out of his eyes. The morning sun creating the perfect shadows on his weary body. He looks like a demon.

The fact that he’s asking what is wrong with you is just like him. Isn’t he surprised that the two of you were all cosy in bed together? He’s always so nonchalant. Your breathing slows as you try and rationalise everything in your mind. By the blaring beat in your brain and the heaviness of your limbs, you deduct that you had been drinking last night. You don’t remember anything. He doesn’t seem hungover. So he’s likely as calm as he is because he does remember the details.

There’s no possible explanation that could justify why you were in bed together.

Let alone while he’s naked.

“Why are you in my bed? Did we—”

“No, we didn’t. And actually, O’Keeffe, you crawled into my bed last night because you were freezing. Nothin’ scandalous.”

“You’re lying, aren’t you? You’re naked under there. Please, Megumi, you need to tell me if I cheated on Yuuji.” you beg, hoping he’ll do the decent thing for once in his life and tell you the truth. He shakes his head, sighing. The duvet is pulled from his body as he reveals his bottom half still in his sweatpants and underwear. “Thank you, God.”

“If you hadn’t noticed, the receptionist wasn’t lying about the weather change for the festival. It’s boiling so I threw my shirt off in the middle of the night.” he tells you. Now it makes sense.

You probably would have been better off sleeping alone if you knew what temperature was going to replace it. Two warm bodies under one blanket was never going to work out well. He kept staring at you; or rather, the state of you. Covered in a gross, sheen layer of stickiness and your messy hair practically glued to your forehead. You watched him roll over and pick up a carton of cigarettes, lighting one up to smoke while he fell further into his bed. A morning ritual, you suspect.

But you’re wrong.

Like every other vice, smoking for Megumi is rare. He does it when he’s worked up about something. In this case, and all other cases as of late, you. The fact that you’re stuck in the middle of nowhere for the foreseeable also isn’t ideal. So what’s a little nicotine to take the edge off?

“You look like shit,” he laughs at your expense, instantly feeling at ease as the cancerous smoke tars his lungs. “I got you a glass of water for the side of your bed, you forgot to bring it over.”

“I’ll be fine after a drink and my aspirin. And… a shower. Maybe more sleep, too.” you inform him. He nods, agreeing, closing his eyes as he lets his cigarette hang between his lips. “What time is it?” you ask him. His eyes open again, unsure if he can be bothered to help you answer that question. But he rolls over again to grab his phone. 7:17am. He tosses his phone away and lies on his stomach with his cigarette holding hand resting above the ashtray on his side table.

You cannot bear the thought of being fully awake at such an ungodly time. It’s enough to make you dive into your own bed and quickly take your painkillers before lying back down. It’s stupid, you know, because really you should be using every second to your advantage to figure out how you’re going to get home. But you aren’t up to it. Tiredness and alcohol rage through your bloodstream and you know it isn’t a good idea to push yourself beyond your limits.

“More sleep… just five more minutes.”

“Fuck that, princess. I’ve set an alarm for 10.” he tells you. You turn over to face him and laugh. It sounds good. It’s still so early, you’ll be able to get plenty of things done if you wake up feeling better at that time. “Gotta call my dad again, and Gojo.”

“WHERE’S GERALD?” you yell sitting upright again as you search under your covers for your brand new shark plush. Megumi grunts and he throws him at you. “Ow.” you instinctively respond as he connects with your head. He is too soft to hurt you, it was just a reflex.

“I’m so fucking tired. You’re such a loud snorer.” he laughs, raising his head slightly to take another drag of his cigarette before he sinks back into his pillow. You roll your eyes, ignoring him. You have absolutely zero desire to waste your time arguing with him about whether or not you snore when there is valuable rest to be gained.

The alarm startles you as it practically screams and stabs through your nervous system. You’re all too familiar with the recognisable iPhone default alarm you’ve been conditioned to hate over the years of early morning classes. It doesn’t scare you as much as it does Megumi, though. The poor guy shocked himself straight out of bed. You can’t help but snigger, trying to keep your volume to a minimum as you roll away and pray he can’t see the smirk forming on your face.

He gets up for the first time that morning. It’s hotter than it was at 7am. The windows need to be open, he decides. The room is stuffy and unbearable. Much like he imagines the rest of today will be if you continue to be stranded.

“Better start making some calls.” Megumi groans.

Neither of you are sure where to start. And you’re beginning to think you’re going to have to swallow your pride and let your parents cover the cost of a cab back home. The idea gets stuck in your throat like a poorly swallowed tablet. You can barely think about it let alone go through with it. You’re sure Megumi will try and force you again, if Toji and Gojo are unreliable for a second day in a row.

It's cute, you think, watching Megumi struggle to choose which dad he wants to call first. Having a little more understanding about his past is giving you the opportunity to really see how much he cares about Toji. He doesn’t like him, not by a long shot. But you can see the obvious love there. The respect. The familial bond that he can’t seem to break no matter how desperately he tries to.

And that is why he calls him first.

It’s uncomfortable to watch the phone ring again and again. You suppose it is still pretty early. You aren’t sure what Toji’s sleeping pattern is like, but he hasn’t let either of you be late to class since you started carpooling. And he always seems fairly chipper in the mornings. It could be a caffeine fix, or something even peppier he might unknowingly share in common with his son. So is sleeping in a valid excuse to not answer the phone? It goes to voicemail, prompting him to try again. He growls when he’s met with the same disappointing outcome.

“Fucker. He’s ignoring me, you try.” he commands. You get up in search of your phone. Who knows where it ended up last night when you were falling all over the place when you returned to the room? It’s eventually found by Megumi when he helps join the search. It was in your pants pocket in the bathroom.

He holds it up and sees your screensaver. You and Yuuji. It makes him scowl and sigh before he tosses it to you. His box of cigarettes begins calling his name. You watch him flop back onto his bed and light another one up. He doesn’t know why he’s so irrationally angry. He doesn’t know what’s causing him to chain smoke like a damn chimney when it’s usually just an occasional pleasure. The edge needs to be taken off somehow, and he doesn’t think he can be bothered to make you cry this early in the day.

“He’s not ignoring you. No answer to me either, must be busy.” you tell him as you press the red button and put your phone down on the side table. You see Megumi start to type so quickly his thumbs become a blur. Likely scolding Toji for being a piece of shit father, as usual.

“Shady prick,” he mutters under his breath. You decide to let it slide and ignore the comment. There’s nothing you can say to make him see the good in his dad. The truth of it is that maybe you need to start truly seeing the bad. It’s in the flesh sharing a room with you right now, the bad. The monster that Toji spawned and couldn’t raise efficiently. He might be sweet to you, but if he can’t be sweet to his own kids it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t make him a good person, the opposite, really. “Whatever you’re thinking about, stop. No need to pout, I’ll try Gojo.”

You watch his finger swipe through his hundreds of contacts as he tries to locate the relevant name. It makes you feel like a voyeur, seeing him do something so simple and human as looking for people to call. Part of you wishes you could see his screen. Is his surrogate father named in his contacts as Gojo or dad? Or maybe something different entirely, something derogatory to fit with the playfulness of Satoru.

“Megumi! Sorry about yesterday bud, I hope you and the future Mrs. Itadori behaved yourselves. Two crazy kids sharing a hotel room, hah? Sounds like a bad soap opera.” his voice instantly grates on you and Megumi regrets putting him on loudspeaker for you both to hear. You both groan loud enough for Gojo to hear and make him laugh.

“Separate beds, Gojo. And you’re on speaker so try to act your age for once in your life.” Megumi reprimands him as if he is the parent in the situation. It takes Gojo aback slightly, but nothing to knock his trademark annoying confidence off track. “My dad isn’t answering his phone, so, you’ll have to come pick us up today.”

“As much as I love your delightful manners, I can’t. And I must say Megumi it sure sounds weird to hear you call him dad for a change. It’s always been Toji for so long, what’s changed?”

“Slip of the tongue.” Megumi answers, immediately. You can’t tell if it’s guilt or embarrassment that has led him to correct himself to Gojo so hastily.

“You know, certain people can evoke special feelings in you. A challenging presence can make you see the good in the world and other people. Although Toji and I will never get along, I think it’s nice to hear you’re in a forgiving spirit and trying to make it work even after so many disappointments.”

“I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

“I’ll admit, it hurts a little. A man who barely raised you earns the title of dad but I’m just plain ol’ Gojo.”

“I’m not having this conversation over the phone, or ever, actually. What time are you coming to get us?” Megumi puts an end to the uncomfortable conversation you almost wish you hadn’t been present for. But overall, you’re glad. Hearing him be somewhat normal with someone as goofy as Gojo is heart warming to say the least. Perhaps there is some humanity in the monster born of Toji Fushiguro, after all.

“Call me dad and I’ll tell you.”

“No.”

“Alright, fine. I’m still out of town so it’ll have to be tomorrow.” Gojo sighs. It’s a crushing blow and you can’t tell who out of the three of you is more disappointed. Another day stuck in the hotel with Megumi. Admittedly it hadn’t been as bad as you were expecting thus far. But there’s still time. And Megumi is flippant, fickle. His mood and aggression towards you can change in the blink of an eye.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me. We’re out of town! What’s so important that you can’t drive a few extra hours to collect your stranded kid and a girl?” Megumi bites down the line. You sigh, huffing a strand of hair out of your face as you realise what you are to him. All you are to him is a girl. Not his victim. Not his classmate. A girl.

“Oh now you’re my kid, huh? Interesting. Doesn’t change anything though. I’m way out of town. As in I’m setting off tonight and I’ll be there in the morning to get you guys.”

“Hi, Gojo, it’s me. Obviously. I was just wondering what’s keeping you from setting off now and getting us tonight. I’m sure you can imagine how uncomfortable it is for me to be sharing a room with another man, a man who bullies me on a daily basis. And for Megumi to be sharing a room with… a girl, he loathes.” you speak up, Megumi rolls his eyes at your comment and opts to ignore you. He’s more intrigued to hear what Gojo has to say over putting you in your place.

“I doubt Megumi will be interested in the gory details but a man has needs. The needs just so happened to take me on a wild road trip and more attention gained than intended, not that I’m complaining.”

“Enough. Fine, Gojo. One more night but if you don’t show tomorrow we’re fucking done. Tomorrow morning, I mean it. Get us the hell out of here.” Megumi tells him sternly. You know he has the power to follow through on his words. And yet, you’re unsure if he’ll change his mind when it comes to Gojo.

“Don’t worry, Megumi. There’s only one father figure in your life who’s usually a no show, and we both know it isn’t me.”

The sound of Gojo hanging up the phone is almost eerie. A damaging melody that pricks through your veins. Megumi is visibly irritated, you’d be a fool not to see it. But it’s only because he knows he’s right. Gojo has never let him down in his life. Toji, on the other hand, only seems to let him down. It’s a bothersome truth that makes his hands begin to shake as he grips his thighs. If he wasn’t so volatile at all times, you’d comfort him. Rush to his side and take his hands in yours and tell him it’s going to be okay.

But you can’t.

Instead, you get out of bed and stand to your feet.

“I’m going in the shower,” you tell him. He watches you walk around your bed and head towards the bathroom door.

“Wait,” he speaks, forcing you to halt your actions and wait for him to continue. “I think we should go buy some festival clothes, today.”

“Why?”

“Are you dense? So we can go to the festival, obviously.”

“I keep getting into trouble when I do things with you. I don’t think it’s a good idea… I mean, you go. Call that girl and take her instead. I’ll just hang out here and work on my dissertation or something.”

“Shut up you’re not doing that. You don’t get into trouble with me because you’re a fucking angel. You live to please everyone and be a good girl, don’t you? It’s not trouble, it’s fun. Don’t you wanna have fun? It’ll be the first time in your whole life, I’m sure.”

“See, this, is not going to work. I’ve had fun but you wouldn’t know that because you, well, you know what you are. So you’re not going to manipulate me with your little mind games into thinking I need to prove myself to you. I don’t. Now, if you don’t mind. I’d quite like to shower.”

“Fine, if that’s how you want to be. I’ll call that girl right now and go with her instead.”

“Great.”

“Yeah, great. Gonna have fun and I’ll probably bring her back here and have even more fun. You might want to figure out somewhere else to be tonight.”

His words grab your attention and he smirks at the way you pout. He promised. Even though you gave him the idea to call up the girl from the store you didn’t think he’d take it as far as to threaten to bring her back here. It’s your own fault, really, for thinking a single word that left his lips held any value.

“Don’t, you said—”

“I said? I said I wanna have fun today, so if you aren’t on board I’ll make my own fun. You’re not gettin’ in the way of my good time and if that involves me bringing a girl back to fuck, you aren’t going to stop me.” there he is. The real him. He’s such a bastard you can’t even think straight as you consider what an idiot you are time and time again. Each time there is a shred of decency in him it’s torn away moments later. A speckle of humanity replaced by a plume of toxic smoke.

“Shopping… sounds good. I’ll never turn down new clothes. So, lets have… fun.”

“Atta girl, that’s more like it.” Megumi snarls. “Hurry up O’Keeffe. Wastin’ precious time here. Gonna make today one to remember.”

No one brings out a worse side of you than Megumi Fushiguro. He’s seen you at your angriest and saddest. But for some reason his intentions have blossomed into something even more sinister, although it might not seem as such to your untrained eyes. He just wants to have fun, you think. He does, but there is a brand new goal in mind. The purity emanating off of you is just so sickening to him. Why have you got such a wholesome aura about you when he is completely and utterly rotten to the core?

Corruption.

That’s his new plan. You were closer to the truth than you knew when you accused him of getting you into trouble. Was it wrong of him to lie? Was it wrong of him to gaslight you and make you think that wasn’t anywhere near his intention? Of course. But Megumi Fushiguro rarely gives a fuck about what is right and wrong.

He has always wanted to ruin you. The method in how has grown into something new. Easier, he suspects. There is so much trouble he can really get you into. Ruin that perfect, sweet image you try so desperately to maintain whenever you can. He’s had enough of it. What is there to enjoy about being the way everyone wants you to be? There’s a little devil in you, he’s certain. He’s going to do everything in his power to force it out of you.

You don’t object when he suggests waiting outside of your changing room to confer with you about your outfit choices. He’s never felt like this before. A rich kid. Admittedly, the store isn’t expensive and the clothes aren’t designer. But being with you and seeing how willing you are to blow money from your parents credit card on whatever you want is making him feel like a cliché. He wasn’t rich growing up. Toji figures throwing money at the problem that is his son is as good a way as any to earn forgiveness. Megumi wasn’t about to object to that.

Each time you step out of the changing room there’s only one word permeating his sealed lips.

Skimpier

Skimpier

Skimpier

It’s the only thing he wants to say, but you both know he’s smarter than that. He manages to put a unique spin on the word and translate it into something more innocent. Something that will actually encourage you to obey without knowing he’s manipulating you. He hasn’t earnt that right yet. Despite having a good familiarity in such a short period of time on how to handle you, he isn’t quite where he needs to be with you yet.

Skimpier = I’m sure you can do better than that.

Skimpier = I like it, but I think the other girls here will go all out.

Skimpier = The colour is nice, but, do you really want to be shown up by me?

He’s finally satisfied when you emerge one last time from behind the curtain. It’s obvious you feel a little self conscious, though he’s confident a few compliments will get you out of your shell. You’re substantially taller than usual given your white, lace up, platform boots you’re wearing. It’s embarrassing to stand in front of Megumi in so little clothing. You’re essentially in a bra and panties. It’s more like a bikini, really, purple holographic material covering your intimate flesh. You found a pair of gem studded, white, fishnet tights to wear with it as well as a purple tutu. The tutu somehow makes you look even sluttier despite it adding an additional layer.

“Perfect,” Megumi grins, “Excuse me, miss? Do you have any accessories for the festival that might go with my friends outfit?” he asks. The girl turns around and your blood runs cold when you realise it’s the girl he gave his number to yesterday. She simply scoffs and barges by one of her co-workers who looks at her incredulously. She apologises on her behalf and picks up some purple butterfly hairclips for you to wear.

“I see people wear pigtails with these clips if that helps.” the assistant tells you. Megumi raises his eyebrows and nods thinking it’s a great idea. There’s something about pigtails that for whatever reason drive him wild. Maybe it’s the idiotic innocence of them. Grown women donning them in an attempt to look youthful and instead look like cock-hungry whores. There is something thrilling about the prospect of making you go off the rails and become a totally new person before Yuuji comes back from his trip.

He might not even recognise you.

“I’m not sure about this, Megumi.” you admit. He squints his eyes hoping it comes across as thoughts rather than disdain, urging you to continue. “What are you wearing?”

“Why tell you when I can show you?” Megumi grins as he steps into the changing room beside you.

You are standing for a good five minutes before you decide to steal the seat he had been sitting in. Whatever he’s picked must have a lot of accessories for him to be taking this long for him to be fully dressed. Even the sales assistant tries to keep you entertained with idle chit chat as you wait.

He emerges and you are almost lost for words. A lot of accessories was right. He’s wearing ridiculous flared blue jeans and has decided to go shirtless. You had no idea what kind of body he’d been hiding beneath his clothes the entire time but you definitely weren’t expecting him to be so fucking defined. In fact, he has a similar body type to Yuuji. The reason he had taken so fucking long to get dressed is because he was covering his arms in plastic kandi bracelets. He also had a few matching necklaces on him and he is sucking on a strawberry lollipop as he leaned against the changing room door.

“Oh my… you look like a—”

“A what?”

“A slut, Megumi. You look, hah, you look like a total slut!”

“Perfect, so we match. Exactly what I wanted.” he teases back as he goes back to sucking on the lollipop. He reaches into the pocket of his new jeans and tosses another one at you.

“The fashion here is wild,” you say as you begin unwrapping the plastic packaging on your lolly, “is it a town choice or just for the festival? It’s very rave-y.” you ask the clerk. She nods, completely agreeing with you as soon as the words leave your mouth.

“Yeah, um, to be honest a lot of people are against the festival now. It started as quite a sweet wholesome event but it’s turned into a more youth focused event. An excuse to get drunk and mess around, really. So yeah, it’s pretty much a big rave nowadays.” she explains.

Your eyes find Megumi’s and he’s immediately raising his eyebrows in quick succession when they meet. Trouble. You know it and he knows it. But, as she said, this is a youth focused event. Megumi and yourself definitely qualify. He holds out his hand for you to shake; an agreement under the phrase ‘I’ll wear mine if you wear yours’. And honestly, you don’t see the harm if you both look so stupid.

The pair of you receive an array of disapproving looks as you sit and wiggle on the check out desks while the cashiers scan the items you’re wearing. You don’t particularly feel proud that you raise your leg for the man to scan your boots and more or less flash him your new bikini bottoms. Megumi spends far too long getting each individual bracelet and necklace scanned. But by the end of it all, they aren’t disappointed when you give them each a hefty tip courtesy of your credit cards.

“You’re dumb with money.” Megumi tells you.

“Look who’s talking!”

“You’ve always had money, but you’re still a little shopping addict. It’s new to me, I’m having fun.”

“Well I’m trying to have fun too. Wasn’t that what you wanted today?”

“You got me there,” he chuckles to himself. “I was thinking of something else fun we could do.”

Before you can answer, he’s pulling you into a fast food restaurant and holding your hand as the two of you run upstairs. He scans the area to make sure no one is around and drags you into the toilets. He shoves you against the sinks and lifts you up onto the edge. Your heart is pounding. It’s intense and heated and you feel like you’re being manhandled by Yuuji when he’s worked up after a shitty day at university. You wonder if he’s thinking about when he pressed his lips against yours at your parents house. He wonders if you’re thinking the same. Your chest is heaving and your eyes are vibrating. He watches as your vision alternates between his eyes and his mouth. Your mind is spinning and you’re under the weight of too many heavy emotions you can’t think straight. But despite all of that, you wouldn’t do this to Yuuji, would you?

He helps answer the question as he backs away from you a little and pulls his wallet out of his back pocket. You’re starting to worry he’s about to pull a condom out. But it turns out to be worse than that.

“This is fun.” he tells you, dangling a bag of cocaine in front of your face. He laughs at the slither of saliva that bulges down your throat as you gulp heartily. He knows you’ve never done drugs before. Other than when he spiked you, obviously. He could have laced the coke with anything. He’s playing the long game with you, you think. You shake your head, telling him you want nothing to do with the white powder.

“I don’t feel comfortable doing that, with you.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m fucking scared. Of drugs and you. I don’t know where I stand with you Megumi and I am too naïve and trusting to keep falling for your little tricks and schemes.”

“You think I did something to this?”

“I—”

“C’mere,” he mutters. He shoves your torso back until your head hits off the mirrored wall behind you. You gasp as he pries your knees apart, opening your legs. You quickly slam them shut but it’s a waste of time. He opens them again and gives you a warning look. “Hold still, and watch.” he commands.

He tips some of the coke onto your thigh and uses his pinkie finger to move it into a straight line. You look at him intently as he holds his right nostril with a finger and lowers his face down to the drug on your leg. It’s impossible not to stare as a raven head of hair moves further up your thigh and towards your cunt. He tilts his head, insisting that you hold eye contact with him as he consumes every last speck of coke onto his tongue.

You’re breathless by the end of it. But it isn’t the end. He shoves his little finger into your mouth to lick the remaining residue off him. He’s proven it isn’t laced, at least. Still though, there’s no fucking reason that you needed to obey. A fucking people pleaser through and through.

“Good girl,” he praises and coos as you hum around his finger, “it’s good, isn’t it? Wanna try it properly?” he asks. You’re hesitant. You know it isn’t right. You know Toji will kick his ass when he finds out he even suggested it let alone pressured you into it. But what can you say? You succumb to his will, nodding meekly and agreeing to his ridiculous stupid idea.

“How do I— I’ve changed my mind this is stupid. I feel stupid. Fuck, Megumi, I really hate you. You’re making me feel like a fucking loser as if it’s cool to do drugs, it isn’t. I don’t—”

“Hey, hey. It’s alright, I know it’s your first time I don’t think you’re stupid. ‘m gonna pour it out. I think you should lick it up instead of snorting it like me, don’t think you’ll like it.” his words soothe you a little and your fucking fluttering eyelashes are the picture of perfect innocence. God he’s excited to see what a mess you’ll be when you’re high together. He helps you down off the sink and trades places with you. He pulls his necklaces over his head and puts them down before leaning backwards and dusting coke between his pecks. “Use your tongue.” he instructs.

You reluctantly lean closer to him and stick your tongue out. Your big eyes are looking up at him for guidance, like he’s some kind of expert. To you, he is. He nods, spurring you on. Finally your tongue connects with his body. His eyelids shake a little as he tries to concentrate on keeping them open. You got a little further than you’re meant to, finishing off by lightly kissing his collarbone. He teased you, it’s only fair that you tease him back.

“I’ll be okay, won’t I?” you ask him. He jumps down and holds your shoulders, bending over a little so he can look directly into your eyes.

“You’re gonna fuckin’ fly, babe.”

He wasn’t wrong. You practically ran from the bathroom all of the way to the parade together. The pair of you were laughing the entire way, not quite sure what was so funny. You ordered a few shots of vodka together to enjoy while you waited for the floats to come down the street.

The atmosphere was surreal. Mostly teenagers and people in their early twenties standing in the streets dancing to the head hammering techno music that was drilling into your heads. Once you got bored of shots you moved onto jäger bombs, and by the time you got good and drunk your high wore off.

It didn’t stop either of you from having a good time though. You interacted with a few other party goers and didn’t bother to learn each other’s names. The music and good times were enough for all of you. You aren’t sure what came over you, but you decided to join the parade. You ran into the road and began dancing. Eventually, you were invited to dance atop one of the floats.

Megumi’s stomach was hurting from laughing as he watched you shake your ass and dance with the other girls on the float. If either of you were in your right minds, you’d likely be discussing how unbelievable it is that such a tiny coastal town has such a huge festival every year. It’s a tourist attraction now, you suppose, a lot of other people are from out of town like yourselves. Hence the fully booked hotels and the droves of people equally as intoxicated and high on life.

Megumi walks alongside the parade float, making sure not to lose you. You point him out to the girls you’re dancing with, each of them having no shame in telling you what a handsome boyfriend you have. He doesn’t hear them say it. And for once, you hold your tongue. You aren’t sure why you aren’t objecting to him being your boyfriend like you normally do. Maybe it’s because you’re drunk or because he’s actually being nice to you and taking care of you for a change. Maybe under the influence he has more potential as boyfriend material that you’d ever dare admit sober.

The sky is changing from bright blue the burning orange and pink before your eyes. You decide you’ve had enough of dancing and ask Megumi to help you down. He looks so different under such a romantic sky. The warm colours adding life to his pale face. He is handsome, the girls weren’t wrong. His problem is that he has such an ugly soul. And yet, this weekend, you think there’s a chance such a horrid interior could be fixed.

He pulls you back into the crowd and over to the outdoor bar for more shots. The two of you are disappointed when you’re told the bar is closing for the day. How are you supposed to carry on getting black out drunk now?

“The party is raging on by the beach, friends. Fire pit, tiki bar, dance floors. Start heading down and you’ll find what you’re looking for.” the stereotypical surfer dude bartender informs you both. Megumi thanks him and takes your hand to guide you down to the beach.

It’s like a hive-mind as everyone has the same idea. Everyone walking in unison down to the beach to get served and continue the evening. You make it there fairly ahead of everyone else, but thankfully there’s a multitude of tiki bars set up to serve people their alcohol. Once you ingest another five vodka shots, this time with gummy bears, you head over to one of the dance floors.

You and Megumi stand apart as you dance on your own but watch each other’s moves. He’s impressed by the way you shake your hips and drop it low, the lack of confidence in your outfit seeming to now be a thing of the past as you parade yourself around as if you own the place. You watch him pause for a moment, snacking on one of his bracelets.

“I didn’t know they were edible!” you yell at him. He nods, pulling you nearer to him by your wrist and holding his arm up to you. Like him, you begin to nibble on the candy as you both simply change which foot your putting the most pressure on in time with the music.

“I think I want to have some more fun,” he tells you. You watch him pull his wallet out of his back pocket again and you assume he’s searching for more coke. You’re a little surprised when you see him take out a little yellow pill with a smiley face on it. He settles it on his tongue and sticks it out at you before swallowing.

“W-What was, ‘sat?” you slur, curious about what he just ingested.

“E, baby,” he tells you. “wanna try?” he cranes his head to line his mouth up with your ear, shouting so that you can hear him over the boisterously loud music.

Well, if he is having some, you have to follow suit. You’re matching his amount of drinks and drug consumption so far. You can’t let yourself down and fall behind now. At least – that is the rationale your drunken and dissolving mind is coming up with. You nod and squint your eyes at him. Like it’s obvious that you want a try. He takes another pill from his wallet. This time it’s pink with a little heart in the centre. He puts it on his tongue and sticks it out for you to take. You hold out your hand, hoping he will put it there instead, but he doesn’t budge.

“Give it to me.” you order, but he shakes his head.

“’ake it.” he replies, speaking as best he can with the pill comfortably on his tongue. You reach your fingers up to grab it but it quickly withdraws into his mouth. You repeat this another three times before you huff in annoyance and exhaustion. He sticks his tongue out even further, wiggling it around like you’re a horse with a carrot dangling in front of your face.

And you’re a fool, because you submit. You lean forward and he catches your hips in his hands as your lips make contact with his. He pushes the ecstasy pill from his tongue to yours and it practically slides down your throat. That should have been the end of it. But of course, it wasn’t. You can justify it all you like by telling yourself you’re drunk. You aren’t in your right mind and God dammit you’re missing Yuuji. But those are just excuses. They aren’t valid. Because unlike at your parents manor, you aren’t pushing him away. You’re melting into him. He pulls your body flush against his and you wrap your arms around his neck. Your tongues are so soft against one another as they dance together and you have no idea why but you start smiling into it.

Probably the drugs.

He laughs into your mouth when he feels your smile, pulling away and kissing your forehead. You’re feeling the music more than you had been. More than you ever have in your life. You feel him spin you around so your back is to his chest. His arms are tight around you as you sway in time with the music. He rests his head on top of yours and can feel his jaw tightening and moving.

You push off of him a little and begin grind your ass against him. His arm comes over your shoulder and you feel his fingers trace delicately atop your breast. It doesn’t bother you, though. You don’t stop dancing or moving on him. It makes you laugh when you remember how hard he was last night just when you were laying in bed together. You’re fully rubbing onto him now and you can only imagine how hard he’s trying to stop himself from getting an erection.

You have no idea.

Similarly to Megumi, your jaw begins to clench and swing as the effects of the E start coming over you more. Megumi thinks he’s in love with you, whispering it every chance he gets into your hair. You don’t pay it any mind, though, knowing you’ll both have forgotten about it come morning. Maybe the pills make him happier, nicer. He feels an intense desire to be lovely. Positively overwhelmed with an dire need the show anyone who’ll listen to him how much he loves them. He even catches eyes with the bartender for a moment and considers telling him how much he loves him.

You feel paranoid when you can’t control how your jaw is aching and moving on it’s own. All eyes are on you, you think, as you look stupid and can’t get a hold of what your face is doing. Why is everyone looking at you? Tears begin to free fall. It’s not supposed to be like this. You’re meant to be happy. To be in ecstasy. You’re panicking. It’s too much. It’s too fucking much.

“Megumi—” you turn, facing him and allowing him to see how blown to hell your pupils are and how watery your eyes and cheeks are.

“Woah, what happened?” he asks, cupping your face and wiping your tears with his thumbs.

“I wanna go, I wanna go please. I can’t. Megumi I can’t—”

“Yeah, fuck. Okay.” he tells you.

Soon enough he’s holding your hand tight as he wades through the crowds of people. He keeps looking back to make sure you’re alright, his heart breaking a little each time he sees you sniffle or do a little hiccupping sob. He isn’t sure if it would be a better idea to walk to the hotel or try and get a taxi. It isn’t too far, he’s sure you’ll manage. It’s a miracle you aren’t both frozen over like Jack Nicholson in the end of The Shining. You aren’t exactly dressed well for the chill bite of the night time air. You don’t think either of you could have chosen skimpier clothing if you tried.

“Take me home, Megumi—”

“I will, sweetheart, ‘m gonna get us home. Love you baby, alright? We’ll be home real soon.”

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How is “I’m in your walls” triggering? /genq

tw for "in your walls" "joke"

its a joke literally created for harming psychotics/schizophrenics. its literally just sanism/ablesim.

can trigger paranoia its so awful noot even funny "joke".

im not well at explaining, ihave trouble whenever trying to explain something, but if youwant to hear more, read this post by @/schizopostivity, an amazing account that speaks up for psychotics and schizospecs !! genuinely a great account !!

Is it ok if you make the "I'm in your walls" joke to your friends only? Who are ok with it ofc

another tw for "in your walls" "jokes"

genuienly iwould say not. theres simply just no way to separate the meaning from the joke, its still harmed psychotics so much, its simply inseparable from its true meaning.

screenshot from "know your meme"

screenshot from @/schizopostivity