#Guys with severe depression turn out to be the most persistent | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

manekicatwriter · 3 years

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hellooo! i was wondering if i could make a request for an modern au sbi x gn sibling reader where they’re around 17-19, and they’ve got depression. they’ve had to go away for a few weeks after a bad episode ended in an attempt and they were hospitalized and sent somewhere for rehabilitation and now they’re coming home and they’re all anxious and quiet and stuff- so the boys do their best to like comfort them and reassure them that they’re loved and they belong there? i’m sorry if that’s an awkward request, i was just recently discharged after a similar situation and honestly the comfort would be great. it’s totally your call if you chose to write it tho, i understand that this is a difficult and triggering subject and not everyone is comfortable with writing things like it. if you aren’t comfy please feel free to just ignore my ask! <3

you’re here, and that’s what matters.

TW: mentions of attempted suicide. please proceed with caution.

hey! i just wanted to let you know that i’ve been through a similar situation and understand how you feel (though my case was not as severe). i wish you a safe road to recovery.

note, i think you asked for their characters but it leant itself towards their rl versions. i have a feeling the dsmp versions would be too chaotic for this sensitive subject.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! please do not be afraid to send in an ask. ANON IS ON!!

Phil:

- phil was very scared about you being so gravely hurt, it kept him up for some nights. thankfully, you pulled through.

- he visited whenever he could. if he couldn’t, he was busy making sure coming home felt as comfortable for you as possible while also educating himself on how to take care of you.

- phil would listen to how you felt, and be understanding of your feelings.

- “You don’t have to tell me why you did it, I’m just glad you’re here,” pulling you in for a warm hug.

- when you got back home, he made sure he and the boys had prepared your favorite dinner and desserts.

It was the day you had just got home from rehabilitation, and you two were sitting on the couch. You hadn’t said much, you felt like you had nothing to say. Phil had asked for you to sit down so you two could talk, one on one.

You couldn’t meet his gaze. “I’m sorry,” your voice started to crack. “For making you guys worry about me.” Tears started to form from your eyes and you wept into your hands.

Phil immediately reached over to you to hug you, letting you cry on his shoulder. “We don’t blame you. We don’t blame anybody. I just want you to be here safe with us. Let it all out.” He pat and rubbed your back soothingly as you kept crying. But it was a good cry. He was just glad you came home.

Tommy:

- even though many see tommy as a loud and obnoxious boy with a general disregard for others, we all know deep down that’s a persona. he will go out of his way to make other comfortable in his presence if he truly cares for them. which he does, for you of course.

- he wants to make you happy! when the time is right, he’ll crack jokes and offer to play minecraft with you.

- would tone down the yelling. not because you asked, but he’s afraid of triggering you. treats you like glass. if you notice he’s being quieter than usual and you don’t care, you tell him you don’t.

- if you’re feeling it, he’ll take you out to fun places and to eat. nothing that’s too outlandish like a theme park, but just enough to have a reason to get out of bed that day instead of sleeping in.

It had been a week since you had gotten home and Phil had instructed you to maintain somewhat of a schedule to upkeep yourself. Right now was your nightly routine, washing yourself, brushing your teeth, and finally sliding under the covers. It felt nice. The blanket of sleep consumes you easily…

…

Until you bedroom door opens you’re being aggressively shaken awake. You groan, shying away, but they’re persistent.

“Ey, wake up, it’s morning!” Tommy shakes you again.

You realize you didn’t dream, but think nothing of it. “Tommy please, what do you want.”

Finally, Tommy pulled your warm sheets from over you, making you flinch. “I wanted to go out to the park today! Feed the ducks! Yeesss!”

You sighed. If you didn’t comply now, Tommy will refuse to stop nagging you for the rest of the day. You rolled out of bed and into the bathroom. You could very clearly hear Tommy’s cheers.

You two had gotten ready, eaten breakfast, and said goodbye to the rest of your family so you could head over to the park. It was close enough that it wasn’t unbearable to walk to. Even if you weren’t completely yourself yet, you were glad Tommy was.

After the short walk you two finally reached the park. Tommy immediately bolted toward the pond and you jogged behind. He had already started throwing the ducks some seeds, and even threw it on a duck. It didn’t seem too pleased.

You two sat at the edge of the pond as you watched the ducks eat. “Hey.” You hear Tommy call to you, and you turn your head to him.

“Can we talk about what happened? With you? Is it okay?” You could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

“Go ahead, what is it?”

“When Techno found out what happened to you, and told us the news, I was scared shitless.” He let out a sad huff. “I thought we were going to lose you.” Tommy kept his eyes fixed at the pond in front of him. “I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t have brought this up. I’m just glad you’re okay.” He sighed.

You put a hand on his shoulder. “Oh Tommy…” You started, “I’m sorry for making you worry. You shouldn’t have to feel like that because of my actions.”

Tommy was lost in thought for a moment, before finally speaking up, “No, please don’t apologize. It’s not anybody’s fault this happened, right?” You nodded.

Tommy stood up, dusting his pants off from the grass. “Come on now, let’s go get some ice cream!” He pulled you up from the ground.

“Last one to get to the shop has to pay!”

Immediately, Tommy bolts in the direction to the ice cream shop, and you catch up to him. No matter the circumstance is, he never seems to fail at putting a smile on your face.

Wilbur:

- i HC wilbur being the oldest, being older than techno by 3 years and older than tommy by 8, like IRL. :]

- i think out of all of your siblings, wilbur exudes the most “protective older brother” energy, yeah?

- remember when tommy lied about his mother being in trouble and how worried and anxious wilbur got? turn that up to 11 with what happened with you.

- with wilbur being the oldest, he of course had the responsibility of taking care of everyone. but somehow you and him didn’t spend as much 1 on 1 time as much as wilbur did with his other siblings

- wilbur definitely was going to change that, realizing that and not wanting to make that mistake again.

- he decided that finding a new hobby with you wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

You were sitting at the dinner table, being the last one there. You were poking at your food for the most part, and Wilbur got home late from… whatever Wilbur thing he was doing. Phil cooked pasta for dinner tonight. Wilbur put down his bags at the door connected to the garage. “I’m home! What’s for dinner?”

“Pasta.”

“Mmm, I love some good ol’ pasta.” He said, already taking a plate out to serve himself. “Also, hey, I bought something I wanted to build with you. Do you mind?”

You finally looked up from your very interesting pasta. “Build..?” You had no idea where this was going.

Wilbur placed his plate on the table and approached the bags of groceries, going through them to find the bag he was looking for. He pulled out a LEGO set. More specifically, a LEGO City set from the looks of the box? “Wilbur, how much was that?”

He blinked at you innocently. “It was only, like, £25. And look! It’s got a little submarine we can make with a rock and ugly sea monster—“

“But why?”

“Why not? It wouldn’t hurt for you to do something new, yeah?” He smiled at you, shaking the LEGO box in front of him to show it off. You sighed, but smiled. “Alright. But maybe you and I should eat this pasta first before we start building.” Wilbur nodded.

“Speaking of water, don’t you think I could teach you how to swim or something?”

“Oh, fuck off with that!”

Technoblade:

- i think out of everyone in the family, he understands you the most in terms of how you feel.

- not suicidal, but just generally having depressive episodes due to his ADHD.

- techno’s generally closed off, but started to really open up to you because he wanted to show he cares, even if it meant going out of his comfort zone.

- techno suggested journaling. once a day or once per week, it didn’t really matter. just as long as you could write down your feelings somewhere.

- he didn’t explicitly say it, but he also bought a book for himself so he could do it along with you. although, he more often than not just forgets to write in it until you mention your own journal.

- if you want to be sad and quiet, you can be sad and quiet with him. his room is a safe space for you if you ever need it and you’re always welcome to come in, just as long as you knock first.

With one hand on your mouse scrolling through the internet, and another resting your head on it, you were safe to admit you were utterly and completely bored. Honestly, you thought about taking another nap after your last one, but a knock on your door stopped you right before you pulled the covers over yourself. “Can I come in?”

You rose from your bed. “Come in. Oh hey Techno.”

He gave a simple wave and his signature “Halloo.” He walked right over to you and handed a journal and a ballpoint pen. “I got this. For you.” His stare was sharp but you could sort of tell he was nervous.

“What for?”

“I dunno. Writin’ your feelings down or drawin’ or somethin’. Whatever helps you vent.” He scratched the back of his neck.

“Oh Techno, thank you. That’s very sweet of you.” You gave a slight smile, but saw that he still had another journal in his hand. “You have two journals?”

Techno raised his eyebrow in confusion before looking down at his hand. “Oh this? It’s for me. So we could do it together, I guess.”

You let out a happy hum. “That’s nice. Say, why don’t we go to your room? I want to see your new lava lamp and stuff.”

Techno shrugged. “Sure. I’ve got more stationary too if you want.” He waved his hand before letting himself out the door, with you following not far behind.

hi hope u enjoyed reading as much as i did writing it. this format was new for me but very fun!

#dream smp x reader #tommyinnit x reader #wilbur x reader #philza x reader #technoblade x reader #dsmp x reader #dsmp x male reader #wilbur soot x reader #mcyt x you #mcyt x y/n #mcyt x reader #mcyt x platonic reader #sleepy bois x reader #sleepy bois family #sleepy bois fanfic #request #mcyt imagine #mcyt fluff

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kaisa-ryo · 3 years

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Attention deficit (pt. 1)

jujutsu kaisen

Characters: Itadori Yuji, Satoru Gojo, Megumi Fushiguro, Inumaki Toge, Sukuna Ryōmen, Nanami Kento, Suguru Geto

Warning: English isn't my native language!

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*

Itadori Yuji

Itadori in this situation acts, oddly enough, completely primitive. The less attention he sees from you, the more he tries to get him back. In other circumstances, this might even seem exaggerated, but here and now this is the most critical moment. What does he do? Yes, everything in a row: drops the book, turns its pages, rummages in the bag, humming softly to himself, and so on ... And all this continues until it comes to stroking the hips and lightly squeezing one palm, while the other rewrites the abstract ...

- I miss the old y/n. - he gives out with sadness in his eyes.

At this moment, the game of interest begins: you feel how simultaneously there is a feeling of spontaneous and purposeful manipulation, how you are gently and imperceptibly pushed towards the long-awaited goal.

In such a situation, one could easily succumb, but you, resisting this, answer:

- Yuji, I'm very busy right now.

It would seem that a strong guy fights curses, trains with the strongest shamans, but with ordinary words it is so easy to break.

It's hard for you to realize that right now he is depressed because of you. It's unusual to see a sad Yuji almost always smiling and making others do the same. Especially you.

And so you compromise, intertwining your fingers, frowning slightly and pretending to listen to something inside yourself ... After that, Yuji remains in this position for a long time, as if afraid to frighten you off, because now such closeness between you is too valuable to miss out.

Satoru Gojo

It turns out that sometimes even acting like a fool doesn't help you pay attention to Gojo. First, the way you constantly focus on the same thing, so that the words in your speech get confused, takes on a comic character, and he comes to the idea that, for no reason, for no reason, you decided that work is more important to you than himself. Then you stop paying attention to him altogether. You no longer look at him from under your brows, do not frown at the idiotic jokes with which he is trying to distract you, as it was yesterday. Satoru notices that you are much smaller. He is puzzled and even confused. Finally, it occurs to him that you just have nothing to do, and comes up with the craziest idea to entertain you.

- What are you doing? - a voice of a man sounded nearby, who had been watching you with interest for some time.

There was no answer. However, it is not surprising.

- Okay, okay, you don't have to answer... - He looked away.

This was his usual technique. After asking several meaningless questions, he suddenly fell silent, as if giving you the opportunity to think over the answer properly, and he himself imperceptibly removed, leaving you in complete confusion. But this time, due to the circumstances, the technique had to be slightly changed.

In the next moment, he was already pressing you to him and, taking advantage of this, with his other hand began to explore the curves of your body. The reaction was as if you were doused with boiling water or doused with cold water.

- What are you doing? - You asked in a trembling voice.

- Checking to see if you got fat after we lost sex. - still clinging to you, he answered. You were taken aback and began to push him away from you.

- I have not grown fat, let me go! You barked, feeling his arms tighten. - Let go! Fool! Let go!

Hands rested on your back, and he began to rock you slowly, stretching the moment when you finally stop resisting.

- It's okay, y/n. You just need to calm down. - he whispered, not hearing your words.

There is a mess in my head, the goal of your resistance has fled somewhere, and you start desperately hugging the man while he grins at the fact that he managed to do what he wanted.

Megumi Fushiguro

Megumi is not one of those who will behave like a child, attracting attention to herself when you do not even know the reason for her loss. He will speak to you as soon as he notices it.

- Do you want to talk about it?

You rub your eyes with fatigue, but you shouldn't ignore Fushiguro's question, because it concerns the two of you. No matter how serious his intentions are, he will always be there to remind you that you can talk to him about what worries you.

- I... will hardly give any good advice, but I will try to make it easier for you after the conversation. Megumi continues after a minute of your silence.

Even such a seemingly small detail as being able to talk to someone else significantly reduces stress and other not-so-good emotions. And the guy knows it.

- You can always count on my help. - already with a drop of confidence he says, and it's like the touch of a soft, pleasant hand on your shoulder. Of course, he does this primarily because he is worried, but this is only a secret cover for the fact that he is upset that you turned away from him, without noticing the real reason.

"Fushiguro, if I do this, I don't know... I... will feel like this..." The words elude you. It’s hard to even think about what you’ll say next.

The guy spreads his arms to give you room to hug and apologize, but you just put your head on his shoulder. You don't want to talk about anything else. The chest against which your head is pressed turns into a pillow. And then a quiet voice is heard:

- I'm not mad at you. You can stay here as long as you like.

But here you won't need anything as long as Fushiguro is around.

Inumaki Toge

Not surprisingly, the first thought that comes to him is "it's all because of the damned speech."

Does he talk to you too little? Maybe he is too quiet and invisible for you? Perhaps you are afraid that someday he will take control of you? From such questions echoing in my head, my jaws come together and a lump appears in my throat. But the worst thing is that Toge begins to doubt his right to meet with you, because he cannot even talk to you with dignity, as a person to a person. Even your sweet persistence, which sometimes breaks through the boundaries of ordinary attempts to turn the conversation back on track, does not help. As a result, when it comes to your attention deficit, he begins to think that all this time you did not notice him, as if he was one of those whom you forgot on the first day.

- Okaka? - the young man has been trying to attract your attention with his eyes for a long time, but it seems that even words cannot help.

- Sorry, Toge. I'm not in the mood today...

The guy was actually a perfectionist and would rather have your smile shine every day. I wish he could turn back time right now, scroll to the moment when something went wrong and fix it at any cost.

Inumaki tucked a lock of your hair behind his ear to see your face behind it. He knew you had flawless skin and plump, sensual lips. He would admire your face for hours.

The next second, the blond rested his head on your lap, looking into your eyes. You liked such cute things from him. They weren't vulgar or inappropriate. They were what she needed.

You smile faintly and stroke the hair on the back of his head, touching his cheek with your fingertips.

Sukuna Ryōmen

This is the case when Sukuna uses passive aggression. Slightly wrong, some small sign of ignorance - his speech turns into direct pressure on your relationship with him. He can really hurt you a lot if you don't appreciate his efforts to make you even a little happier. Most often they are small and insignificant, the kind that anyone would do, but for the King of Curses, this is really something grandiose. And since he has many ways to destroy your relationship, if you think he made a mistake, remember how it hurts him.

- Will you ignore me again? - Sukun asked with imperious anger, the last pieces of despair were dying in his soul. - And where is your mercy? If I have become disgusting to you, why do you continue to need me?

There was nothing to answer. It was not pride that tormented him at all, but an ever-deeper regret that with your equanimity you just caused another outbreak of rage in him. Most of all, the thought that you, perhaps, does not even notice it, and your eyes clouded with pain glide over something that is very dear to him, terrified him.

The dead silence continued, and my chest ached more and more. Then there was a soft groan:

- Y/n, I love you.

Tears ran down your cheeks, but did not brush them away with my hand. You knew it wasn't going to help. Bitter emotions generated by the word "love" are not able to be burned out on the face, like the sun on clay. You can't stop feeling. And all the same, looking at you was as painful as seeing your motionless glazed gaze.

He hugged you from the back as soon as he felt that you were repenting. Like the time you forgave him for calling you your own. He had strong hands - you can be sure. He was very gentle. You felt less pain. Maybe in the future it will be difficult for him to remember this, but now he tightly squeezed you in his arms and was so affectionate that you wanted him to never let you go.

Nanami Kento

He begins to suspect that something is wrong very early. First, morning kisses disappeared somewhere before leaving for work, then sincere conversations at the table, and then completely short meetings with glances. Moreover, the last remnants of intimacy are gone. Nanami began to think that something had happened to you. He always tried to protect you from any problems. And so you found yourself right in front of him, so closed and detached, he could not so easily take away the comfort and peace that he had been creating for so long and skillfully. And first of all, of course, he will lend you a helping hand to make it easier for you as quickly as possible.

A perplexed look will appear from under dark eyelashes after a man touches your forehead with his palm. It seems that the whole thing is not about health.

- You don't have a fever. He began.

- I know, thanks.

But Kento was clearly hinting at something.

- So what's up? - then you know what Nanami means. But she said nothing.

- Y/n, I do not want to impose anything on you, I just need to know what is happening to you so that our relationship with you does not suddenly go downhill.

The man took your hand and brought it to his lips. Nanami felt that if he said something now, he would commit tactlessness. And so he was silent, waiting for your answer.

- Sorry... - Tears began to burn my eyes. - I am very, very ashamed. I... it's just hard for me now, but it will pass by itself. I'm sure.

You pressed as tightly as possible to the man, hugged him and buried your face in the chest. He put his hand on your head encouragingly. I already didn't care about the problem as a whole. Now for you there was only what you felt - his soft stroking, the smell of a strong male body, warmth and care, and there was nothing but that.

Suguru Geto

He will take it calmly, without intention. But she won't ignore it. Often he will offer tea or something else, just to get at least one word out of you, in an attempt to bring you into conversation. He will not touch you without asking, because he knows about the value of personal space. And yet, for a while, it can fiddle with spontaneous statements in order to simply take away the soul and break a long silence.

- I see your day is going well... - Geto smiles with restraint. - Lots of news for me?

Guessing that he is once again trying to create a dialogue between you was almost nothing. But you are, of course, silent.

- I see. - Suguru sits down next to you, as close to your side as possible, not giving a damn if you don't like it.

- Maybe I offended you in some way? - he continues. - Or are you just not too open in your thoughts?

- Nothing. It's okay. - you throw.

- But it seems to me that no. - he takes your hand in his, as if trying to make you smile. “I think you have something to tell me, don’t you? He raises his eyebrows, expecting your reaction. Instead of answering, you grimace with a shrug. Suguru repeats the question:

- So what happened? Why don't you want to share your thoughts with me?

- What would you like? You ask. - Would you be happy to know that there is a perfect girl with great manners, beautiful and intelligent, whom you deserve?

To be honest, Suguru did not expect such an answer. You can see that he is a little dumbfounded, but quickly comes to his senses. And then he starts laughing - so sweet and sincere that you start to feel embarrassed and blush with shame.

- And I was already expecting something more terrible. He laughs. - Okay, be it your way. I'm not a particularly sentimental person. I do not know what to say.

- Tell me you feel terribly in love. - grabbing his wrist, you say.

The brunette makes a startled face again. But you do not retreat - you hold him for a few more seconds, forcing him to surrender. - Only from the bottom of my heart ...

- Y/n, I feel terribly in love with you and will never fall in love again next time. So? He asked, grinning.

Wiping away the tears of happiness, you hugged him without words, while he, hugging you with one hand, exhaled with relief.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*

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thefanficmonster · 4 years

Text

Inky Memories

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Drug Use (Past), Domestic Violence (Past), Shoplifting (Past)

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: Tattoos can reveal a lot about a person. What will Y/N’s tattoos, which she has kept hidden for so long, reveal to Corpse? Will it change anything between them?

Requested by Anon. If you’re reading this you know who you are 😊 Thank you for the request, hope you like what I did with it. Sorry if I made it too angsty! And my most sincere apologies for publishing it so late. Enjoy XOXO ❤

“Guys, come on now! I’m not hiding anything!“ I laugh, looking up from the comments to the camera, “You know how much I hate being embarrassed! Believe me when I say these tattoos are EMBERRASSING. I got them while I was either drunk or in my emo phase and I’m not too proud of them.“

I’m currently doing an Instagram live Q&A session that I scheduled last week. I do one every month and it’s my favorite way of connecting with my audience. An hour of chill lo-fi and questions and answers. I get really excited every time I schedule the session. My fans are such amazing people and they are all so supportive, funny, intelligent...I could go on and on about their positive qualities. One thing I’m not too fond of is their persistent curiosity. Here’s why.

Yesterday, while streaming, I got an unexpected pain in my forearm. Instinctively, I lifted my shirt sleeve to see what was wrong, flashing a few tattoos at my viewers in the process. I’ve never mentioned my tattoos to my audience, not even my boyfriend, actually, so to have this much attention on them so suddenly makes me want to hide them even more. People started commenting on them during the stream and I tried to dodge the majority of the questions, but I knew they would be inevitable during the Q&A. If the session hadn’t been scheduled for like a week at that point I maybe would’ve postponed it until the dust settled.

“I have several. Not only on my arm.“ I only answer these vague questions. I avoid the ones that are asking details like what is depicted with the tattoos and what’s their meaning, bla, bla, bla.

Here’s the thing. I got my first tattoo when I was fifteen at this shady alley tattoo shop and I’ve been obsessed with tattoos since. I made a deal with myself to get at least one every year.

Needless to say, I’m twenty years old and have almost the same number of tattoos. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not ashamed of them. And I lied when I said they were embarrassing. I am quite happy with them, the way they look, at least. Each of them represent something different. Unfortunately, they are representative of some dark and depressing times. Times I want only the fewest of few people to know about.

“Yes, he’s here. You can’t see him, but he’s waving. He says hi.“ Corpse is the perfect distraction. My viewers love him just as much - maybe more - as they love me.

He knows how easily I get overwhelmed by the attention and pressure of thousands of eyes on me and whenever I’m having a hard time while streaming all he has to do is walk in my recording room and just say the most random thing. Recently, his go-to phrase has been ‘Chicken wing’ and it always cracks up both me and my viewers.

Speaking of Corpse, him and I have been dating for over a year now. We moved in together a month or two before quarantine was officially a thing so we have been together 24/7. It’s scary how many things you can pick up on when you spend so much time with someone. That, of course, means he has noticed some of my tattoos. He has asked me about them, like why I cover them up and why am I so secretive about them and I’ve always been vague and indirect with my answers. He’s the sweetest and most patient person ever, so he has never pressed me with the questions, but I’m still hoping to gain the courage to reveal them to him someday.

“Thanks for tuning in, guys! See you tomorrow for my regular stream and next month for a chill hang out like this one. Love you, stay safe. Mwah!“ And with that the live video is done and I can finally breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Now we can order dinner“ I smile at Corpse who is chilling on the couch in my recording room. He looks up from his phone screen, returning my smile. “Were you recording a Behind The Scenes again?“

He does that often, not only with my Instagram lives but sometimes my streams as well. That’s actually how we revealed our relationship to our fanbases.

He nods, “Yeah.” He pauses for a second, switching to a sitting position with his feet touching the floor. We’re almost at eye-level now. His arms snake around my waist as he pulls me closer towards him. I take the hint and settle in his lap, my legs on either side of him. “I admire how well you handled the pressure back there. I know how you feel about that topic.”

The small bit of anxiety that has started spreading throughout my chest disappears. He has that calming effect on me. Like my own personal safety blanket that’s with me at all times. “I wouldn’t have handled it so well if you weren’t here with me.” I say as I run a hand through his hair, moving a few stray curls away from his gorgeous eyes.

He shakes his head, making the strands fall back over his eyes, “It has nothing to do with me, Y/N. You are simply an amazing person, that’s all.“ His cold hand cups my burning red cheek, leaning my head down so our foreheads are touching. “Nothing could change my mind about it.“

That sentence causes a small pang in my chest. I feel like a manipulator. I’ve led this man to fall in love with me without knowing the past versions. I realize it’s incredibly manipulative of me to reveal my dark aspects only after we’re head over heels for one another, but I can live with it. If it were up to me, he’d never have to know. He would never have to find out that I’m not the amazing person he thinks I am. I have been broken countless times before and all my pieces are just glued in place. Not all of them are where they’re supposed to be and some of them are on the verge of breaking off. Just like a mirror. You can put all the pieces together but not only will you see the cracks, the shards can fall at any moment.

My tattoos are to me as the cracks are to the mirror - evidence of my fragility and the many falls and breaks I’ve had throughout my life.

“Are you sure about that?“ I whisper, trying my hardest to engrave every detail of this moment in my mind because, after what I’m about to do, I’m afraid we might never be like this again.

The softness of his curls, his scent, his warmth, the way he makes me feel. I can hardly believe I’m risking losing all of that, but I owe him the truth.

I feel him nod against my forehead. I tense up and pull away so I can look him in the eyes. It’s hard for me to maintain eye contact especially when I’m fighting back tears. I can’t even say I’m about to lose him. I’m about to let him go. It’s up to him if he stays or decides that he deserves better.

No backing out, Y/N.

I grab the hem of my sweater and lift it up, revealing the many ink drawings on my skin. I discard the sweater on the floor, leaving me in only my bra meaning all my tattoos are on display. Not exactly all, I have some on my legs as well, but these are some of the most important ones. The ones which reveal most about who I used to be.

Corpse takes my hands, tilting my arms so he can take a better look at the tattoos that go from my wrists to the bend of my arm. His thumbs caress the tattoo on each of my wrists. “This one... “ I nod to my left wrist, “I got on my friend’s birthday. We both did. They’re matching.“ The tattoo depicts a heart with a keyhole. “She got the key.“

“I thought I had the key.“ He says, smirking up at me.

“You do now.“ I feel the pang again but this time it doesn’t go away. It’s a constant pain - a constant fear. Being scared of something inevitable is the most nerve-wracking feeling. It makes you feel small, helpless, like you’re standing aside watching your life be controlled by a force you can’t see.

Before he can break me even more, I go on, nodding to my upper arm, a little below my shoulder where there’s a rope tattoo that bends around my arm, its ends connecting in a bow, “I got this one after my shoulder healed.”

His brows furrow in concern as he tilts my head for me to look at him, “Healed from what?”

Here we go. Let the cat out of the bag. “Um....well...” I instinctively reach up to touch my shoulder, running my fingertips over the inked rope. “My dad wasn’t a very nice guy.”

I can pinpoint the second his heart breaks. I don’t want to hear what he has to say, I know it will kill me, so I just continue, moving onto the one on my other wrist where the word ‘Shadow’ is written in cursive writing, “This was my nickname in my friend group. I was the only one to never get caught shoplifting.”

The tears are gonna start rolling at any moment so I deliver the final blow, moving onto the most traumatic event, aka the tattoo on my collarbone of a heartbeat turning into a dead line and kicking up again, “This one I got after I woke up from my almost overdose.”

As if on cue, a tear falls from my eye onto his hand that’s still holding mine. My voice remains still, to my surprise, but I know it won’t be long before it too gives and breaks. I can’t look at him. I don’t want to see any sympathy or that look like he doesn’t recognize me. I feel like I’ve let both myself and him down.

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this?“ he asks me in a whisper. He sounds almost hurt. “You know you can tell me anything.“

I see another tear fall, “I know. I just...didn’t want you to think any less of me.“

Again, he lifts my head so he can look me straight in the eyes. He knows how much I struggle with eye contact and how much I hate crying in front of people, he knows how vulnerable I feel when someone’s looking me in the eyes or when someone sees me cry. He also knows that he’s the only exception to that rule. He knows I never feel out of place when he’s around.

“Think less of you? Babe, you’re a fighter like no other. You picked you life back up. You did all that on your own. You’re a warrior, Y/N.“

I smile through the tears which are now ones of joy instead of fear and dread. “I was a dumb teenager, Corpse. I had no idea what I was doing. I just wanted to get a thrill and feel something other than pain. I know I went about it the wrong way but...” he gives my hand an encouraging squeeze, “And you’re wrong, I didn’t do it all on my own.” I release his hand so I can cup his cheek. His hand comes up to cover mine as I swipe my thumb on his cheekbone, “I met you a month after I left the hospital. The rest you know. I moved to a less druggie populated part of town and I repaired my relationship with my aunt. All that time, I was balancing between the need to relapse and the will to stay alive. After I met you, that balancing act was no longer a balancing act at all. I didn’t even think about my past anymore. I was more focused on what I could be. On what I have to be to deserve to have you by my side.”

“You will always have me on your side, Y/N. Even when you don’t want or need me there.“ With both his hands holding mine he leans forward, connecting our lips. It’s a short kiss laced with nothing but love and adoration.

As we lay on the couch, him asking about each individual tattoo I didn’t get to tell him about, everything just seems a lot easier. Like a big area that was previously dark has suddenly turned into the brightest point of our relationship.

“I need to get that key tattooed. It’s only appropriate.“ He says, his finger tracing the heart on my wrist.

“Or an ownership deal for it. That heart’s yours, you know.“ I laugh, lifting my arm to inspect the oldest painting on my body, “It’s your favorite one?”

“No.” he shakes his head, “This is my favorite one.” he leans down and kisses the heartbeat on my collar bone. “I’m so glad it started beating again.”

“I am too.“

@susceptible-but-siriusexual @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @hacker-ghost @itsminniekat @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus

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alphabet-blues · 4 years

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Here it is, chapter one of my baby, my magnum opus. This fic is going to be so long so I hope you guys are buckled up and ready. Each chapter also is accompanied by a literature/media excerpt and five song mini-mix as a YouTube playlist. - Venom

Read on Ao3

Title: drowning lessons

Pairing: Harley Keener/Peter Parker

Fandom: Spider-Man (Tom Holland), and MCU

Chapter: One

Rating: Explicit

Content Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Tags: Angst, Depression, References to Depression, References to Drugs, Graphic Drug usage, Addiction, Graphic Usage of Opioids, Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, brief mentions of forced prostitution, Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Thoughts, drug overdose, Graphic Depiction of a Drug Overdose, Getting Together, Fluff, Banter, The Euphoria Fic, Blowjobs, Alternate Universe - College/University, Drug Addict Harley, Aged-Up Harley Keener, Aged-Up Peter Parker, Drowning Lessons, Falling In Love, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags Are Hard, Tony Stark Acting as Harley Keener's Parental Figure, Harley Keener Needs a Hug, Underage Drinking, Partying, Purchasing of Drugs, Harley's Nirvana Hoodie is a character

Summary: It all started with a house party and a bad idea, like most things in Harley’s life.

In which Harley takes pills, listens to Nirvana, and doesn't want to be alive anymore.

Falling for Peter is easier than breathing, and also the least of his problems.

(Also known as the Parkner Euphoria Fic)

Mini-Mix 1 for Chapter 1

The Pool Players. Seven at the Golden Shovel.

We real cool. We Left school. We

Lurk late. We Strike straight. We

Sing sin. We Thin gin. We

Jazz June. We Die soon.

- Gwendolyn Brooks

It all started with a house party and a bad idea, like most things in Harley’s life.

He was 14, and it was his first party. Well, not his first party, but his first party with actual high schoolers that involved booze that wasn’t snuck out from a parent’s meticulous liquor cabinet. Harley though, didn’t have much of a taste for alcohol.

The smell of beer on people’s clothes was tainted by memories of his Father. He’d had his first beer when he was 10, given to him by his Uncle with strict orders not to tell his Mother. It was bitter, rancid, and burned as it went down and Harley couldn’t understand how people loved this stuff. Or how his Father had chosen this over their family.

The party was a little ways out from the main road and tucked behind a line of trees that led to a few rolling fields of corn. It was October, and there was a slight chill in the air. The corn had been combined at the end of summer, leaving a desecrated patch of land in its wake. By the time next summer rolled around, there would be stalks nearly as tall as Harley. He was fascinated by the cycle of it all.

Technically, there wasn’t supposed to be any freshman at the party, but he had weaseled an invite from his friend Joey’s older brother, Mike, as long as he followed his strict orders to “be cool.” Harley could do that.

When Harley made his way into the house he watched the different crowds of upperclassmen interact. Some were dancing to the loud thumping of the music playing from the speakers by the TV in the living room, while others were huddled into tight groups, either drinking, or passing a joint around. An ache settled inside Harley’s chest.

Harley committed to his role of being a wallflower and held back from all of the groups as he made his way through the house. He had sat on the couch for close to a half-hour when someone passed him a joint and told him to take a hit. Harley did, and was careful not to choke so he didn’t look green at his first-ever real party.

The joint in question got passed around their circle a few more times until someone put it out. At that point, Harley had taken several puffs and was starting to feel light-headed and fuzzy, but in a good way.

The ache in his chest morphed - it spread warmth over Harley’s ribs and clavicle, but it still burned.

Harley floated through the house afterwards, giggling at nothing, and took whatever was offered. He drank something bitter and sour that made him want to hurl before he was passed something sickly sweet but felt like acid as it washed down. When he finally stumbled out of the house he felt a happy buzz wash over him. He could barely feel the cold nip of the air, and goosebumps raised all up along his arms.

He found his bike where he had discarded it on the grass lawn when he arrived. It was hard to see in the dark, especially with his head swimming, but he managed to pull his bike onto the road. The wind of the night air blew through his shaggy overgrown hair as it fell in his eyes. He biked down the eerily quiet streets of his hometown as the persistent aching in his chest eventually subsided, for the first time since it had arrived. No one was around, and his ears were filled with static due to the lack of sound - a sharp contrast from the thudding bass of the party.

He fell off his bike twice before he got home, and winced as his elbow got scratched up from the gravel. But instead of being frightened, he was elated, he couldn't really feel it. He snuck back into his room through the window he kept unlocked for that exact purpose, and made sure to be as quiet as possible, even though the motor functions in his hand were failing him and it took him multiple tries to get his window up.

He changed his clothes, noting how they smelled, and buried them deep into the bottom of his hamper so his Mom wouldn’t get suspicious. When he finally collapsed onto his bed he felt sated. He was warm, and the rocking of his bed from his head spinning as he closed his eyes lulled him to sleep.

It was probably the best sleep he’d gotten in years.

That was the start, but it wasn’t the beginning.

The beginning was not quite a year later, at the start of summer break. He was invited to a pool party by Mike’s friends. As soon as the sun went down they all changed out of their bathing suits and into t-shirts, and shorts. They relocated to Maddy’s basement - the girl who had been throwing the party. Harley was expecting the alcohol, and the weed. He’d gotten used to it by now, and even knew how to roll one of the best joints in town. He kept a stash in a sealed bag buried deep inside his nightstand that he would pull out and smoke in the backyard by the shed whenever things got overwhelming. Or, for when that well-known emptiness crept into his veins, that instead of making him angry, just made him sad, and desolate.

He was used to the weed, but the pills were something new. He was halfway through a joint that he had matched with a girl he vaguely recognized. She had introduced herself as “Tasha” when one of Mike’s friends stumbled over and sat down next to him. Harley passed the joint over to Tasha. His head was swimming pleasantly, and he grinned over at the guy who he was pretty sure was named Toby.

“Look what Jessica’s sister brought,” Toby said excitedly as he held up a baggy with a bunch of tiny perfectly round blue pills. “She’s like the fucking tooth fairy, I swear to God,” He crowed as he handed a pill to Harley and one to Tasha. Tasha glanced over at Harley nervously, and Harley didn’t say anything until Toby left, probably to go distribute the pills to the other partygoers.

Harley looked down at the pill he had clutched in his palm. It had a ‘5’ etched big in the center, with a smaller ‘325’ carved under it. Harley recognized the pills from health class. It was percocet.

Tasha finished the joint and then stubbed it out on a spare plate that everyone had been using as a makeshift ashtray. “I’m gonna go see what Josh is up to,” She told Harley in a small voice before handing him the pill she had been given. “I’m good with just weed.”

Harley nodded dumbly as he watched her scamper off. He took in the scene of the party going on around him as he stared at the now two pills in his hand. It felt like an old cartoon where there was an angel and devil sitting on his shoulder arguing over what he should do. He stared at it for entirely too long before he said, “Fuck it,” and swallowed one down dry. He tucked the other one into his weed grinder for safekeeping, figuring that even if he hated how it made him feel he could probably sell it to someone at school for a couple of dollars.

The next twenty minutes passed slowly as he waited anxiously for it to kick in, to see how it would feel. He didn’t feel anything for the first while and was gonna accuse Jessica’s sister of being an idiot and buying counterfeit pills when it started washing over him in waves. He went out to the back deck where the pool was, and where it was relatively empty. He sat down on the edge as his eyes went half-massed, and the ribbons of euphoria made their way through his bloodstream.

For a blissful while he didn’t feel anything. Nothing at all. He laid out flat, head facing the water, and started swirling circles in it with his pointer finger. He watched for what felt like hours as his finger caused ripples in the pool.

It wasn’t until later, much later, when Joey was helping him into his house quietly, because he was too fucked up to stand, that he pulled the grinder out of his pocket. He opened it once Joey had gone home and looked at the little pill inside of it. Harley didn’t understand alcohol, but he understood this. He would do anything to feel nothing again.

It wasn’t an all-or-nothing type beat, at least in the beginning. It was more gradual. As the low simmer of Harley’s misery built so did his coping mechanisms. It wasn’t until right after he turned 16 that he was sneaking out to parties every single weekend, coming back high, drunk, or sometimes something worse.

He bought from Jessica’s sister for a while until she left town. Then, he bounced around various dealers getting wildly different qualities. He tried a little bit of everything, and never turned down a pill if it was offered. He passed out in so many different basements he lost track. He could tell that his Mom was catching on to his worsening attitude and sunken eyes. Hell, even he had noticed the weight he had lost and how he was able to count most of his ribs without sucking in anymore. None of that mattered. All that mattered was how he could get rid of the emptiness inside of him, even if it was just for a night, or however long the drugs in his system lasted.

He got a job bagging groceries at the mini-mart downtown. Most of the people that he worked with were college burnouts who sold and did drugs whenever they weren’t showing up for a shift. He bought baggies of pills in the parking lot whenever he got off work with the money he made from his minimum wage. He knew that he couldn’t keep up the delicate balance forever, and eventually there would be a tipping of the scales.

It was a month before his 17th birthday when he ran out of money.

He needed a fix so bad that his hands were shaking and he could barely see straight. He had nearly crashed his bike 10 times on his way over to Tyler’s apartment. He wasn’t the best of dudes, but his shit was always pure, and Harley knew he could deliver.

Once Harley climbed up the steps he walked along the railing until he got to the door that led to Tyler’s apartment. He rang the doorbell as he fidgeted with his hoodie and dug his fingers into his palm so hard he nearly drew blood. When Tyler opened the door he followed him inside, chewing on his lip.

Tyler went back to his room as Harley waited anxiously in the foyer. He didn’t have any money, and he didn’t know what he was going to do. All he knew was that he needed another pill. He needed everything to stop. He bit his thumb as he waited for Tyler to come back out. After a few tense moments, Tyler came back out with a baggy full of familiar pills. He sat them down on the coffee table and glanced at Harley expectantly.

“I can pay you back next Friday. That’s when I get paid,” Harley told him, his tongue feeling thick in his mouth.

Tyler sucked on his teeth and grabbed the pills back up, before Harley had a chance to reach for them. “You still owe me for last time.”

Harley’s stomach dropped. “Right. I know that. Just- ... I can pay you back next week.”

Tyler shook his head. “And what’s in it for me?”

Harley’s eyes widened as he took in the setting of what was going on. “W-what do you mean?”

Tyler shrugged. “How bad do you want ‘em, kid?”

Harley bristled, and brought the sleeves of his hoodie down to hide his hands. He wanted to hide from the situation completely, but knew he’d be right back here tomorrow if he didn’t leave with the pills that he needed. “What do you want?”

“I heard you gave Colson head at the bonfire party a few months ago,” Tyler said, as Harley’s face burned. “You any good?”

Harley counted to 10 in his head. He thought about a lot of things in the time it took for him to count. He thought about his Mom, his Dad, and his sister. He thought about his one English teacher from the previous year who always had an absurd amount of faith in him and told him that he was capable of great things if he just put his mind to it. He thought briefly about Tony and his billions of dollars while here he was broke as shit and questioning his morals. He thought about Colson, who he’d had a crush on for a couple of months, who let him blow him at a party and then told him afterwards that he wasn’t gay, and that they probably shouldn’t do it again. Lastly, he thought about how shaky his hands were and how all of this would be over as soon as he got his hand on the pills. There were five in the baggy. If he paced himself he could last until next Friday when he got paid and he would never have to do this again.

With that resolve in mind, he closed his eyes and dropped to his knees.

| | |

When he left Tyler’s apartment he couldn’t stop wiping at his mouth, and how it felt dirty and raw. He got halfway down the street before he let his bike fall to the ground and bent over to wretch into the grass on the side of the road. He didn’t have much in his system so it was mostly just bile, but anything, literally anything, was better than the lingering taste of Tyler’s cum in his mouth that only served to remind him what he had let him do.

Once he gathered his wits back up, he was able to make it to the 7-Eleven that was only a few blocks away from his house. He parked his bike in the bike rack outside half in a daze, feeling like he was no longer inside his body. He went into the bathroom with his hood up, and made sure nobody else was inside. He wiped down the edge of the sink with soap, and dried it meticulously with the thin paper towels from the machine. He took one of the pills out of the baggie and smashed it until it was basically powder. He spread it with his finger into a line on the edge of the sink and snorted all of it in one go.

As soon as he did he felt the immediate head rush and stinging pain in his nasal cavity that made his eyes burn and well up with tears. He grabbed onto the sink for dear life as he took several deep breaths. He looked up and finally made eye contact with himself in the mirror. His hair was a messy tangle, and greasy, on top of his head. His eyes were bloodshot, and his nose was red, as well as his mouth, which looked rubbed raw. In a certain light, it could have been enticing, but Harley knew that he just really looked wrung out.

He glared at his reflection in the mirror until someone else walked into the bathroom. Harley froze in place and waited till the guy took his position at one of the far down urinals. “Whatever,” he whispered to his reflection as he turned around and left the bathroom, wiping at his nose with the bottom of his hoodie sleeve. The moment he reached his bike he felt it start to kick in and he breathed out a sigh of relief as the telltale rush he had gotten used to spread from his head down his shoulders, all the way to his toes as his chest flooded with warmth.

He just had to make it until next Friday, and then everything was going to be okay.

| | |

The thing was, Harley was a pretty angry person. He wasn’t angry all the time, but the slightest thing could set him off. He had a temper like his Dad, and it was always hard to stop himself from doing something rash, or impulsive. His Mom liked to say that he thought with his fists before his head. His anger was more like a low simmer, on a backburner constantly until something set him off and he snapped. It had only gotten worse since he started the pills, but so had everything in his life. He knew he had a problem, but that didn’t mean he wanted to stop.

Harley had been getting into fights at school for almost as long as he could remember. There was a day in elementary school where he had to wait outside the principal's office with a split lip and torn-up knuckles. He could hear his Mom crying through the door, he could hear her saying how tough it had been since Harley’s Dad had left and it made him feel awful. But, it also kind of just made him want to punch stuff more.

Kids at school were mean, but all kids who are growing are mean, and seem to have endless bouts of nasty shit to say. They picked on Harley because he was weird, and nerdy, and his Dad had left. There wasn’t even a divorce like some of the other kids in his class. He didn’t have elusive tales of two Christmases, or weekends at his Dad’s - all he eventually got was Tony Stark showing up in his garage when he was 9, before he fucked off just like everybody else. Sure, he had decked out his garage, but that didn’t mean much. Tony was a fucking billionaire, it was probably the equivalent of him giving a homeless kid on the street a 5 dollar bill.

Harley got better at learning how to deal with his anger. He also got better at not getting punched, and throwing his own. He learned how to hide bloody knuckles, or bloody noses, and only got pulled into the office a handful of times. They made him go to the school counselor and she said it was a coping mechanism; that the violence was a way for him to act out and ask for attention. Harley thought she was mostly a quack who didn’t actually give a shit about the kids she was supposed to be helping. The fighting had been self-defense, but the pills? He could admit that those were probably the coping mechanism.

Harley thought about his school counselor as he locked the door to his room and threw the baggy of pills that he had worked so hard for into his nightstand, under a pile of books he was supposed to be reading for class and knew he never would. He wondered what she would think of him now, or what he had done. He laughed mirthlessly at the picture of her horrified face as he told her that the school system had failed him, just like his Dad, and just like everybody fucking else.

Despite everything, his grades were good. Harley was smart. He knew he was smart, and that was half of his problem. He stopped having to try in school after the second week of 6th grade. He always showed up, and always finished his work though, even if he was working on his projects high out of his fucking mind. He usually wrote his best papers that way.

Sometimes, not often, but sometimes, he thought about his Dad. He thought about what his Dad would say to him and his pills. Maybe an outsider would draw parallels to him and his Father, from one addict to another. He wasn’t anything like his Father, though. Yeah, Harley had a problem, but he was still here, still doing the shit he was supposed to be doing. He was still a functioning member of society as far as he was concerned and hadn’t ran away as soon as things had gotten tough. His Father was a coward and that’s all he’d ever be.

Sometimes though, sometimes, in the dead of night when he was shaking and sweating from either a comedown, or withdrawal, he would try to discern if his Dad would be sad, if he even gave a shit at all. He wondered if he would be disappointed.

Whenever those thoughts took hold he would just text one of his friends to see if a party was going on, and there usually was. He’d smoke a joint, or take a pill that was offered and suddenly he’d forget all about the thoughts that had previously been consuming him.

But the thing about all of his anger is that he would gladly take it over the sadness. There was a hole inside of him. He wasn’t quite sure when it formed, but it was there. It threatened to consume him whole on nights he was alone and could only stare at the popcorn ceiling of his bedroom. The only time when he didn’t feel empty was when he had some chemical pumping through his veins. So that became his thing.

He couldn’t ignore though, how it was hurting everyone he loved. Abbie and his Mom never said anything, but sometimes it was like they knew. They would give him a look with their sad eyes like they wanted to help him, like they somehow had the capability to heal him. When he came home on certain nights, pupils blown and speech slurred, his Mom would look at him like he was his Father.

Maybe he was slowly becoming his Father.

Either way, it hurt, and he couldn’t stop. The only thing that didn’t hurt anymore was the dizzying rush he got whenever he snorted the pills that he had come to love so much.

There was one night that Harley could remember. He had slammed his bike on the front porch a little hard, and had made a little too much noise coming in through the window of his bedroom. He was high as shit and the world was thick, but buzzing around him. He changed out of his jeans into an undershirt, his hands fumbling and not working right, like they were no longer connected to his brain. When he finally finished his task he stumbled out into the hallway to go to the bathroom before he could pass out for school in the morning.

As soon as he got to the door of the bathroom he could hear his Mom talking in the living room, and he froze. Her voice was muffled, but he could still make out what she was saying. It sounded like she was on the phone with someone, which wouldn’t be an unusual occurrence for her, especially at this time of the night. It always made Harley smile whenever he would come home and she would be gabbing excitedly with one of her girlfriends, or spilling town gossip. This time, however, Harley could tell she wasn’t chatting with her friends.

“He’s just been so withdrawn. I know he sneaks out of the house almost every night and I don’t know if I should let him have his freedom or be concerned.” Harley heard her say, her voice sapped, and weary. “He’s so bright. You know that. I’m worried that’s going to be what gets him.” She paused for a while, so someone else on the phone must have said something. Harley took that time to let his head fall against the door of the bathroom.

Harley had a feeling the conversation was about him and it made him sick. His fuzzy brain was taking in all the words she was saying and knew that he didn’t want her to feel that way. He didn’t want her to worry. But he also couldn’t stop. His brain was whirring all the time and the only thing that ever gave him peace; a fucking reprieve, stopped the voice in his head - the one that sounded like his Father, the one that told him he was a waste of space, that he was nothing - were the pills that he took, or snorted, whichever was easier, or quicker, really. At least when he was high he was a good nothing.

“No, I know. And he’s so good sometimes. He’ll be happy and chatty, and he’s always been so good with Abbie...it could just be a teenager thing. Sometimes I’m just at a loss. I know he needs something, but I don’t know what that is.”

The world to stop turning, Harley thought, with a sudden flash of vengeance. If there was one thing he could write on his Christmas list it would be for the world to stop turning, and for him to stop breathing. But that would definitely cause his Mom more concern and he didn’t want that.

He didn’t want to listen to the conversation anymore, so he made sure to open the bathroom door obviously, and took a few stomping steps inside, hitting his hand on the counter in the process, that way she would be alerted to his presence in the hallway.

He couldn’t make out her voice after that.

Harley stared at his face in the mirror. He took in his red eyes, pupils swallowing his irises, skin pale and sickly. At one point he might have been something to look at, with sweeping blonde hair, and a crooked grin that his Mom used to always pinch and say was her favorite.

He didn’t look like that anymore.

He didn’t even look like himself anymore. His outside finally matched his inside - a hollow shell of someone pretending to be a person.

When he got out of the bathroom his Mom was no longer on the phone, and he couldn’t pretend to be anything other than absolutely exhausted, so he shuffled into his room and fell back onto his bed. He played the words she had said on the phone call over and over again in his head until he fell asleep.

| | |

Harley was smart, brilliant, actually, that was the thing. School was a breeze, but he knew that even though he kept his grades up, every time he snuck back in through his bedroom window his Mom was disappointed in him. He knew that she had no idea what he was doing, but she also wasn’t stupid, and somehow knew he was close to doing something that would throw his life away.

If only she knew that this was the only way he could keep on living. If only she knew he probably would have slit his wrists in the bathroom if those tiny little blue pills hadn’t kept him company, and drove away all the malicious clawing thoughts that flickered through his brain constantly.

Harley had an affinity for building things. He also had an affinity for hacking, which would have been worrisome if he wasn’t good enough to hardly ever get caught. After he burned his bridges with Tyler he started exploring his other options. Hacking into the local hospital’s database was so easy it was almost laughable.

He quickly learned it was going to be a dead-end because they kept all their opioids in a Pill-O-Matix which was an automatic drug dispenser that used doctors’ credentials to unlock it. Even if Harley could somehow bypass it he would have to disable the security cams, and it wasn’t something he could do on a regular basis. It wasn’t worth it.

After that, he did some digging into his local pharmacy, but that was mostly a dead end as well. Their computer systems were out of date, but most of their pill tracking was manual, as it was a tiny small-town pharmacy. If any of their opioids went missing they would surely be noticed.

So Harley started bouncing around dealers again. He knew it was dangerous. But the hole inside of him was just as, if not more dangerous, so he knew what he had to do. He got shitty pills from freshmen with older siblings that dealt; who didn’t know the worth of what they were selling. On one occasion he got a set of pills of oxy that were cut with speed that made his heart race and he felt like he was having a low-grade heart attack for hours.

He didn’t want to be this way - a junkie. But he found something that worked when nothing else had. He could feel himself getting worse and worse and knew rock bottom was just around the corner. But he couldn’t stop. He didn’t know if it was a sick desire to actually hit rock bottom and to see what that felt like, or if his own self-control had finally waned to a point of no return.

It all came to a head a week before his high school graduation.

Graduation parties were popping up all over the place, and Harley wasn’t about to miss any of them. It wasn’t so much that he wanted to see his friends (friends that he could barely even call friends anymore because he didn’t really talk to anyone who wasn’t going to eventually sell him drugs).

It wasn’t even that he wanted to have a nostalgic cry fest with all the people who had tortured him his entire adolescence. He just wanted to get as smashed as possible so he could forget everything. Then he wouldn’t have to think about college, which he couldn’t afford, or all of the stress that came with being on the cusp of adulthood.

He could tell that something was off as soon as he took the first pill. He got high quicker than usual, and he also felt higher than what was normal. He relished the buzz, every second of it, and used his impairment as an excuse as to why he took another one, and another one once it was offered. He was never one to turn down free drugs. By the time the third one kicked in he could barely walk outside. He must have fallen on the grass lawn because one minute he was looking at the driveway that led to the house, and the next minute he was blinking up at the night sky.

He didn’t even realize that he was puking until someone was rolling him over with a bruising grip on his arms and back. The bile that had been clogging his throat rose and fell out of his mouth as he heaved and heaved. He puked into the grass for what felt like ages until he tried to focus his eyes and could only make out a vague blob of a person standing over him.

“Fuck, Harley,” he could hear the voice saying, but it was distant. It sounded like they were crying, but he couldn’t figure out why they would be crying. Harley opened his mouth to speak but when he did he only choked on bile once again until he was forced to spit it out in the grass.

A loud ringing was in his ears and all the talking he could hear was muffled and unintelligible. He started shivering violently and couldn’t stop. The hand that was holding him reached for something in the pocket of his jeans but Harley could barely feel it. He came back to himself enough to glance over with glassy eyes and recognized the person as Joey. Fuck. He shouldn’t be seeing him like this.

Joey had a phone pressed to his ear, and Harley tried to piece all the details together to figure out what was going on but it was hard to think. All he could feel was the sudden pounding in his head and how his whole body ached in a way that made him feel like he had just been run over by a semi.

It could’ve been hours later, or only a few minutes, time was passing weird for Harley. But suddenly he was seeing his Mom. She was pale as a ghost as her face floated in front of him, blocking his view of the night sky. “Mom?” Harley said, not quite believing what was in front of him. Just saying those words scratched against his raw throat and suddenly Harley was so, so tired. All he wanted to do was go to sleep and never wake up.

“Harley, baby.” His Mom said, her cool hands pressed against his face. He was burning up. When did that happen? “What did you take? We need to know what you took.”

“I didn’t take anything,” Harley mumbled out, his words barely coming out as sounds or words. His Mom must have understood because her face turned thunderous.

“What did you take!” She yelled, her voice turning shrill as she screamed. Harley winced and his eyes fell shut until someone was shaking him, causing him to blearily open his eyes again. His Mom and Joey were like little pale-faced moons over his head as he could hardly make out the details of their faces, or why they were looking at him like that, or why they were so concerned. Couldn’t Harley just go to sleep?

“...hospital,” He heard his Mom say distantly. Then jerkily he was being pulled up by two pairs of hands until he was upright. The movement jostled him and his head fell back painfully like a rag doll. The sudden motion caused him to start puking again, and he bent over and heaved on an empty stomach which only made his throat feel like it had been hacked at with razor blades. Every inch of his body hurt.

He didn’t realize he had been put into a car until he was laying in the backseat while Joey held his head, probably to make sure he didn’t choke on his own vomit again. This was one of his worst nightmares. He could hardly think but suddenly he was stuck in a spiral of guilt so strong that it choked him even further. He could taste the bile he had been throwing up all over his mouth and tongue, and could hear his Mom crying from the front seat.

He was so sorry.

Nobody should be seeing him like this. All he wanted was to go home and pretend like none of this was even happening.

“I’m sorry,” Harley said, even though it was hard for him to talk. He wasn’t sure if he was talking to his Mom, Joey, or possibly both. “I’m sorry,” he kept saying in between the tears that were rolling down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”

That was the last thing he remembered before he fell asleep.

| | |

When Harley woke up he was in a brightly lit hospital, and was lying in a bed. He had various wires hooked to his arms and he felt like death warmed over. Once he was able to blink through the blinding lights and focus on the room he noticed Abbie and Mom, both sound asleep in their own respective guest chairs. A lump formed in his throat as it settled in his bones what had happened.

| | |

After his Mom woke up they fought for what felt like hours. Eventually, it led to her crying as she said she didn’t know what to do. The pills Harley had taken at the party had been laced with fentanyl, and they had caused him to OD. The doctors had told her that he showed signs of having a long-term opioid addiction and would have to go through detox before he would be released. Harley had denied it vehemently until his Mom had told him to cut the bullshit.

In the time that it had taken him to recover he had missed graduation, and hadn’t been able to walk across the stage like the rest of his classmates. Harley pretended that it didn’t sting.

It was clear that his Mother didn’t know what to do with him, and Harley didn’t know what hurt worse, the fact that she looked at him differently now, or the fact that he had hurt her so deeply. It wasn’t until he went through the detox with gritted teeth and false promises that he would stay clean that he knew nobody really believed, that he was able to go home.

When Harley got to his room, he stopped short in the doorway and stared. All of his stuff had been packed up into bags that were sitting on his bed. He turned to look at his Mom, who was only a few feet behind him, with betrayal and fear. Was she kicking him out?

Instead of answering him right away, her eyes trained on a picture that was hung up in the hallway, just a little ways down from the entryway to Harley’s bedroom. It was a baby picture of him. His blonde hair was platinum then, but still tangled at the top of his head like a bird's nest, and he had a wide smile on his face that was completely toothless and all gums. He could see the tears welling in his Mom’s eyes as she turned back to face him.

“When you first mentioned that you wanted to take a gap year I got in touch with Tony. He gave me his number years ago and said to call if we ever needed him. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if the number was still going to work. I thought it might do you good to go and see him.” Her voice trembled then, “Lord knows he has more resources than I do.” A tear trickled down her cheek, but she continued. “I know you’re not happy here, baby. You haven’t been happy for a while, and I don’t...I don’t know what to do.”

Harley tried to let her words sink in, but they weren’t making any sense. “Since when does Tony give a shit about me?”

“Oh sweetie,” His Mom said, eyes sad. “He’s always been keeping tabs on you. He wants what’s best for you.” She seemed to gather herself together then, and her voice was less wobbly when she said, “I think a change of scenery will do you good. You have a flight to New York tomorrow morning, so you should probably get some rest.”

Harley balled his hands into fists at his sides and glared at the bags that had been packed for him. He was a problem who was being shipped off to New York because his Mom no longer knew how to handle him. He wasn’t sure what Tony fucking Stark was going to be able to do for him. The fact that he had been keeping up with Harley and how he was doing hit him as a shock because he genuinely thought that the man had forgotten about him, or at least, didn’t care for him anymore. He didn’t know how to handle the information that not only did Tony in fact care about him, but cared about him enough to open his home to him and want to help him.

“And what if I don’t want to go to New York?” Harley tested, because he always had to push.

His Mom only pursed her lips sadly. “It’s not negotiable.” She closed his door then, he guessed to give him a semblance of privacy. Not like it mattered, he was sure his room had been cleaned of all his stashes, and all his shit was packed up anyway.

Harley punched his pillow repeatedly, and screamed into it a few times before he ended up curled up in his bed and staring unblinkingly at the wall. If he was miserable in Tennessee he doubted New York was going to be much better.

Thanks for reading! This fic means so much to me and I can’t wait to hear the response to it, and post more :)

#Parkner #Drowning Lessons #Fic #Chapter One #Parkner Euphoria Fic #Graphic Drug Usage #Harley Keener #Peter Parker #Keenker #Parley #Harley/Peter #Harley Keener/Peter Parker

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sunflowerandco · 3 years

Text

Act VI: Looking Back

Rating: T for language

previous acts on the link in my bio :)

Hey everyone. After my favorite combo meal of some good ol' depression™ and school, I'm back to writing! I really hope you enjoy and I'm very thankful for all of the support if you stuck around this long. Thank you so much ❤

I hope you enjoy this origin story for Duncney in this universe

5 years before Act V

Bridgette approached a very focused Courtney in the hall. "Hey, Court. Got any plans this weekend?"

She responded, her face still buried in the locker she was trying to organize before heading home for the weekend. "Studying, studying, and more studying. I've got two AP exams in two weeks and my livelihood depends on me getting good enough grades."

"Is there any chance you have one day to let yourself have some fun?"

Courtney pondered and knew her response wouldn't please her friend. Still, she delivered it with a smile. "No." She knew Bridgette's campaign for fun was coming any second now as she shut her locker.

“You’ve been studying all week, Courtney. Come to Wasaga with us! My step-dad lent me the beach house for the weekend.”

Courtney felt apprehensive at the idea of a day on the beach with Bridgette, Geoff and their insistent need to suck face most of the time. “No thanks. I don’t want to be your third wheel.”

“You won’t be! It won’t be just me and Geoff. He practically invited our lunch period. Plus, Duncan’s coming...”

“And that holds significance to my decision because...?”

“...Because you like him.”

“I do not! He’s annoying, has no regard for authority, and is so, totally gross. I don’t need you setting up dates for me. At least not another disaster like Bradley.”

“To be fair, you did have a crush on him.”

“That was before I knew he was a total jerk.”

“What matters is that you gave him a chance. Why not give Duncan one? I've seen the way you look at him.” Courtney gave her look, signaling her to quiet down in front of everyone else occupying the halls. Bridgette smiled triumphantly and shrugged her shoulders matter-of-factly, finally getting through to Courtney.

"See? I'm never wrong." Bridgette walked off presumably to find Geoff. "I'll pick you up at two."

"I didn't say yes!"

"Love you, too!"

***

Courtney could deal with sweaty teenagers in a crowded setting. She could deal with speakers blaring in her ears. But, she couldn't stand to see Bradley's face across the room before running to Bridgette.

"Why is Bradley here?!"

"I don't know! I know for a fact Geoff didn't invite him. He was the only person off limits."

She knew she'd have to spend the better half of her day avoiding Bradley.

Courtney stood in front of the bathroom mirror of the beach house, washing her hands and reapplying her lip balm. For one thing, she had to hide from the guy she wasted a month of her life on. On the other hand, she couldn't find him. Not that she cared. Oh, no, no, no. Not Courtney. She didn't come to this outing hoping she'd find him. And she would never admit that even to herself.

When she exited the washroom, she bumped into a brown-haired, blue polo-wearing dudebro practically standing in front of the door.

"Hey, Courtney. You know you can't avoid me forever."

"It doesn't hurt to try."

"Listen, I just wanted to talk."

"In order for that to happen, there'd have to be something to talk about."

"Well, there is. I want to start all over. You and me. I've got drafts coming up for university football. Having a girl on my arm would help with my image and, well, I figured you could benefit changing that uptight, boring image everyone has on you."

Courtney scoffed, feigning interest. "Wow. While that sounds incredibly tempting-" Courtney started off with sarcasm.

Bradley wasn't the most receptive to rejection, but still persisted. "I knew you'd see it my way. It would help the both of us."

Courtney rolled her eyes at his insistent need to cut her off at every chance she had to speak. Her eyes diverted from his and her eyes gravitated to the neon green hair she spotted across the room. He hadn't noticed her stare, but seeing him made a sense calm take over her mind.

"...I'm gonna have to pass. Don't come up to me again wasting my time. I don’t need to associate myself with an asshole like you."

She finally felt like he would leave her alone for the remainder of senior year after letting him hear it. Courtney knew that wasn't the answer he wanted from his displeased layer of expression on his face. She held her hand out with a smile.

"Pleasure doing business with you." He begrudgingly shook her hand to save face from possible onlookers.

***

Duncan, Geoff, and DJ were all engrossed in conversation when Duncan's attention rerouted in Courtney's direction. DJ's voice faded slowly out of the forefront. "...All I'm saying is if dude didn't want his underwear up the flagpole, he should stop leaving it around the locker room!"

"What is he doing here?" Duncan was covertly protective over Courtney in the aspect of terrible ex-boyfriends. His reaction to seeing her shake hands with him made Geoff and DJ turn in that direction.

"I don't know, man. I swear I didn't invite that joke. It seems like they're making up, so that's good." The can Duncan held warped in shape as his grip tightened.

It was no secret how Duncan felt about Bradley. He had to spend two months convincing people that pantsing him, throwing eggs at his car and TP'ing his house were all in the name of fun and not some way of avenging Courtney.

He didn't mean to avoid her after the fact, but it made controlling his emotions easier.

***

Courtney, fresh off of telling Bradley off, finally felt she was able to enjoy herself for the day. As the day transitioned into a darker, breezy evening, her introverted nature dwindled as she allowed herself to let go. Catching up with acquaintances from various classes, taking in the ocean views, and the overall atmosphere made her feel recharged in a rare feat. Still, it was hard to find Duncan while sticking to Bridgette's side. She'd hate to verbally admit she missed trading meaningless quips with him, and it was out of the ordinary for them to be in the same setting without exchanging any words. She separated from her friend when she wandered around several spaces of the house. Then, she heard him.

He was projecting his conversation loud enough for onlookers to hear what he said. "It's actually sad how many times and ways I had to reject that girl. Even today I had to tell her to stay away from me. I mean, why would I want to associate with her?" A few laughs could be heard from the same acquaintances she caught up with at his declarations of rejection all created by him.

Duncan decided he'd heard enough and approached him. "You better watch you say around here. Courtney's not around to defend herself, and I'm known for not using my words to solve problems."

"Oh? Is that bitch your piece of ass for the week?" Bradley immediately felt threatened at how much Duncan was fuming at him. Duncan swung a fist, but he moved out of the way quick enough to dodge the attack.

Geoff immediately came between the two of them to settle the tension. "Just get out of here, dude."

***

She heard every word of it. She didn't want to defend herself for once. Her mind just kept repeating to itself. You need to get out. She sat on the sand with her knees pulled to her chest. Courtney felt Duncan sit next to her without a greeting. She still spoke lowly to fill the silence between them. "What gives him the right to think he can do and say whatever he pleases like that?!"

"You're right. Let me let him have it, Princess."

"No, it's not worth it. He's not, at the very least. And you need to stop getting into trouble all the time."

At the time, Duncan's need for revenge couldn't be subdued. He'd let it go for now, but his mind wouldn't rest until he felt justice was served on that rich, entitled fuck. "It's not like anyone cares if I do. Everyone just wants to police me-"

"I do." She immediately retreated to the ocean's view after she blurted those two words out pretty angrily.

A silent moment passed between the two of them. His brain felt like mush hearing that and seeing the bright reflection of the moon on her skin. All of his previous thoughts were clouded leaving one subject clear. He quietly said the first thing that came to his mind. "You look beautiful."

Courtney had gotten used to Duncan calling her nicknames. They were mostly delivered backhanded in response to her insults. This time it was unprovoked. It blurred the lines between real and fake. She decided not to respond and change the subject instead. She crossed her arms in defense of the drop in temperature. "I want nothing more than to leave this stupid place."

"Here." He said as he peeled the t-shirt off his back. Courtney truly didn't mean to stare as the fabric became less and less attached to his torso. He handed it to her after noticing she shivered when the wind picked up speed. She looked away quicker than she wanted him to notice.

"As if I need another reason for people to look at me weirdly."

He knew she just reacted the way they're expected to treat each other, but it still upset him for reasons he couldn't decipher fast enough. She immediately noticed his face fall, instantly regretting her delivery. "I didn't really mean that. Thank you." She smoothed out the wrinkles after letting the shirt fall over her body.

He couldn't stay mad at her for long, especially when her regret was so apparent on her face. Duncan considered the embarrassment she faced, and figured she was trying to regain some normalcy in their relationship. "Don't worry about it. Let me take you home."

Courtney didn't object, following him through the sandy plains to his car. After finding a tank top in the trunk, he slipped it over his upper half. Duncan opened the door on the passenger side for Courtney to enter. Moments that didn't include bickering scared Courtney. it was an occurrence that gave her mind the opportunity to wonder what a prolonged version of this happenstance would result in. Her feelings floating to the surface of her deeply buried psyche.

***

He didn't mean to drive in radio silence, but Duncan was more nervous than he'd like to admit. He almost ran a red light when he noticed the newly-acquired tan the sun gave her soft, warm skin as she crossed her legs in the passenger seat. He slammed on the brakes just in time, still startling her. "Duncan! I didn't accept your offer with the expectation of dying in your car!" It wasn't the greatest question, but he was relieved she opened a window of conversation to flow between them.

"What was your expectation, then, Princess?"

"Delinquent-proof driving!"

"You know it wouldn't kill you to be...nice?"

"And ruin the amazing dynamic of our relationship? I wouldn't dare!"

"I don't want anything to be 'ruined' either. Nothing will stop me from annoying you, no matter what happens between us."

Courtney relinquished in relief. She then remembered the very moment her fear took over. Acknowledging it meant accepting the affect his words had on her. Accepting those indulgent stares and rare, shared smiles. Despite her fears, she asked. "If you don't want anything to change, why did you call me beautiful the way you did?"

Surprised by the indicative effect of his words, Duncan responded as if the answer were so obvious, still attentive to the road ahead of him. "Because you are...? Nothing's gonna change because of that. I've always thought you were. I'll stop if you want me to."

Courtney felt her heart triple in size when she boldly responded, letting herself say whatever her heart told her to. "Don't... stop?" She stammered, even changed the pace of her words as she fought off her nervousness. "I... don't want you to stop."

"Okay, beautiful." Courtney's chest radiated with warm waves as she looked out the window. She looked in the opposite direction and noticed one of his hands resting in the space between their seats. Her mind and heart wrestled back and forth between doing what truly called to her. To shut them up, she turned her attention to the road ahead. And, like some gravitational pull, her hand made it's way toward his free one. A swipe of the back of each other's hands was enough to: burn beneath the surface of their skin; Duncan immediately caught on to her intentions. He tried to stay focused on the road as they fumbled, palm to palm, and slowly interlocked their fingers with the other's one-by-one. The silence after realizing how perfectly they fit was easy, comfortable, yet deafening.

At a red light, Duncan used the hand on the steering wheel to turn the radio to any random station he saved. Neither of them knew the song, but wouldn't forget any lyric of it after this.

You can't stop us on the road to freedom

You can't stop us 'cause our eyes can see

Men with insight, men in granite

Knights in armor intent on chivalry

She's as sweet as Tupelo honey

She's an angel of the first degree

***

When he pulled up to her street and their hands pulled apart, Courtney felt hollow. Duncan's mind conjured ways to make the moment last longer. "I'll walk you to your door." Courtney didn't object once more, smiling at his reciprocated persistence.

"Okay." The path, while short and forward in leading them to the door, gave them time before the eventual goodbye they dreaded. Courtney fumbled with her keys hoping to buy more time. Fleeting, fickle, borrowed time for a moment they used to curse themselves for dreaming of. He initiated.

"So... see you on Monday?"

"Of course. Um...thanks. For everything."

"It's no problem, Courtney. Goodnight." He leaned in and Courtney's breathing wavered. Duncan gave her a quick peck on the cheek. Courtney's hand rose to her face in an attempt to calm the burning sensation he left. This would suffice for what he really wanted to do. If he was right about the impact he assumed he had, he was doing the right thing for now.

Courtney hated to see him walk further from her and toward the car. In some entranced state, her hand grabbed his wrist, pulling him in closer.

Maybe she leaned in the wrong way; she over-estimated the distance between them as their noses collided with each other's causing them to both groan in pain. Her ache quickly shifted to embarrassment as she hastily spilled out her rambled apologies. "I'm so-so sorry! Oh my God. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

Her rambling ceased when Duncan pulled her in once again, his lips crashing onto hers with a yearning force. Her lips quickly overlapped his as his fingers tangled themselves in her hair, her arms linking around his neck. They parted for air but remained still with their hands attached to the other.

He'd never done something so worth it, unaware of the events to come.

#duncney #td duncan #td courtney #duncney fanfic

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jungkookiebus · 4 years

Text

The Greenhouse Effect | ksj

♦️ Genre: smut x fluff x established relationship ♦️ Rating: 18+ ♦️ Word Count: 2.3k ♦️ Pairing: exoticflorist!jin x reader (who is a soft dom) ♦️ Warnings: cunnilingus, masturbation, unprotected sex, creampie, exhibitionism (kinda) ♦️ Summary: The greenhouses he lovingly tends are an escape to you; soothing your anxious mind with its humid atmosphere and floral fragrances. But today, you’re traversing its green pathways looking for the creator of your escape. There’s something just a little extra that you need. ♦️ Author’s Note: I’ll admit that this isn’t my finest work, but this is me dragging my ass out of a depressive episode to bring you guys a little something. Yes, I know the title has nothing to do with the actual story, I just liked the play on words :)

The world around you was an explosion of color. The air was wet and sticky, but not in a way that displeased you. It almost felt healing to be in the greenhouse when the timed sprinklers came on. You knew its schedule and on days that your mind felt the most addled, you sulked over to the clear, glass building and welcomed the heat against your skin. A large Banrai Red Curcuma sat to your right and you ran your finger over its waxy leaves and almost as smooth petals. Of course, you didn’t know anything about these flowers; you only knew because of the clearly labeled sign complete with a picture. These exotic flowers were not a passion of yours, but someone else’s. You appreciated them for how delicate they were and the outward beauty that only nature could create.

Soft gravel crunched beneath your feet as you traversed the overgrown path. He didn’t cut anything back. Most customers liked having the full foliage of the plant they were buying and that’s why his nursery was one of the more popular in the region. The soft mist of water still fell around you. You could practically feel your hair growing with the differing humidity you stepped into. Stopping for a second you closed your eyes, face towards the ceiling, and concentrated on the feeling of the soft water against your skin. The system gave off a soft, familiar hum that lulled your thoughts to a standstill. The quiet whisper of water leaving the pipes soothed the painful spot in your chest. Then you heard the telltale click as the system was about to shut off. All at once you were blanketed in silence as the water shut off. You were left with the quiet fall of the remaining water as it drifted almost silently down and landed amongst the mostly green foliage with its splashes of pink, red, and gold. Water dripped quietly in soft puddles. You took another deep breath before opening your eyes again. The anxious feeling in your chest was gone.

You walked further inside. There was a door you were trying to reach. Your clothes were already wet, so you didn’t bother to avoid the falling water droplets as they slid from overhanging leaves and flowers. The next greenhouse would have a much different setting than this one. This one also had a keypad to get inside.

You keyed the code in without looking. You looked over your shoulder as you always did just in case. Not that anyone would be around right now. The door lock clicked up and you pushed it inwards.

This was not the greenhouse you wandered through when you wanted to relax. You mostly avoided this one, not that you were afraid, you just didn’t want to accidentally mess with any of his things. This was his private collection.

“Poisonous plants?” you had asked when he brought it up.

“What? It’ll be fun.” His smile had been so wide that day that you couldn’t argue.

Three years later and his greenhouse of deadly foliage was packed with so many different kinds. The rosary pea was on either side of the entrance door, its beautiful seeds begging you pick them off. A single seed could kill an adult human. Wolfsbane, with even a touch, could leave your skin tingling and numb. His Devils and Angels plant looked whimsical, as if it should be inside of Willy Wonka’s factory, but you knew that every part could trigger an allergic reaction that included skin, mouth, and throat irritation.

He had to be here somewhere. You wandered the narrow pathways in the expansive greenhouse, passing a planter box that was at least five feet long, filled with deadly nightshade.

You saw his back first. You could spot those shoulders from some distance. He looked to be tending his odollam tree.

“Jin?” you called out, weaving in and out of plants even though you could see him clearly straight ahead.

He turned and a smile spread across his face as he saw you. He gestured towards you as you approached as if he wanted to hug you but clearly couldn’t. You reached for his gloved hand and he quickly drew it back.

“Nope. I just came from messing with some marsh marigold and you might get blisters.”

“Then take them off,” you said evenly.

You saw his mood shift. He stood a little straighter as his hands fell to his sides.

“Here?” The question had nothing to do with the gloves. You knew what he meant, though.

One corner of your mouth quirked upwards. He swallowed hard and slowly, carefully pulled the gloves off, using a cloth to pull off the second. He laid them, one atop the other, on a small shelf that held several mister bottles. You heard the whir of the sprinkler system in the adjacent greenhouse as it came to life again. Other parts of you were drenched besides your shirt and pants. The moment he had turned around, you could only think of his lips.

You heard his shuddering breath as his hands fell to his sides once more.

“Anything else on you poisonous?” you asked as you twirled your finger at his long apron.

He seemed to have forgotten as he quickly untied it and laid it close to the gloves. The heavy, humid air hung between the two of you. He swallowed thickly.

Your hand was still extended from your previous gesture, so you stuck your pointer finger straight out, making a fist with the rest. You saw his eyes move to your finger and then you pointed straight down. He knew what you meant as he grabbed the hem of the apron he had just tossed and laid it, bunched up, in the gravel at your feet. He dropped to his knees onto the soft fabric. You didn’t need to say anything as his fingers slowly undid the button on your pants and he pulled the zipper down. You ran your fingers through his hair lovingly as he as he slid the denim down your hips. He licked his lips as he exposed the thin lace of your panties. His large hands smoothed their way back up your hips as he looked up at you. His eyes shone in the hazy light that came in through the opaque glass of the greenhouse walls. You ran your thumb over his nose and then down his lips before you pressed your thumb into his mouth. He moaned as you pushed against his tongue. He wrapped his lips around your thumb and sucked lightly. He seemed to bristle with joy at your sharp intake of breath. Quickly, you pulled your thumb from his mouth and wiped the spit down his chin.

“Take it out,” you demanded.

He seemed stunned for a moment, processing the order. You cocked your eyebrow as you waited and you watched as something clicked in his expression. He sat up a little on his knees and began undoing his own pants until he had his cock free.

“Don’t come,” you smiled. He would know exactly what you meant. Scenarios like this had happened before.

Your fingers were back in his hair as his large hand gripped his cock, the other grabbing the front of your panties and pulled them downwards. Ever so lightly, you pushed at the back of his head and he took it the rest of the way. His tongue was out before he got close, ready to lick up your center as soon as he could. You moaned as the warmth of his mouth closed in on you. His tongue met with the wet slick already between your lips. He groaned when you pressed a little harder to the back of his head. Looking down, you moved your head to the side to see that his cock was already rock hard in his hand.

“Give me your hand.”

His lips parted from you momentarily, shining brighter than they had before and just as red as the petals on his fire lilies. Dipping your head, you spit into his open palm.

“Thank you,” he whispered, looking you in the eye. His hand was back on his cock, using your spit and pre-cum as lube.

His tongue was between your folds again, flicking upwards against your clit. He was wetly stroking his own cock and moaning, vibrating against you. Your fingers tightened in his hair as you pushed him a little harder against you. His head fell back a little while he buried his face a little further to suckle gently on your clit. Your stomach muscles clenched as you involuntarily shuddered. He rubbed a little faster on his cock, but he knew better than to come yet. He’d slow down his strokes as soon as his moans would start to pitch. It was red and leaking now as he ate you out with a little more ardor. You began to move your hips, almost holding his head in place as you began to fuck yourself on his mouth. He kept his head back, tongue out but also simultaneously delivering as much stimulation to your clit that he could. Wet, sucking sounds filled the hot air around you, only to be swallowed up by the thick leaves on his beloved plants. His hand pumped furiously over his cock as you rocked even harder into his face, his tongue slipping every now again into your entrance before moving back over your clit.

Sweat beaded on your forehead. The heat rolled over your skin and the thick, humid air seemed to fill your lungs. Your breaths became shorter and shorter. Jin was probably conserving as much air as he could as you fucked yourself harder and harder against his face. He kept his moans low and persistent, making sure that you felt every one of them up into your stomach.

Your breathing hitched and you felt as if you were suffocating in the dense atmosphere. But it just seemed to heighten the feeling between your legs as you stood on your toes, fingers tight in Jin’s hair as you cried out, coming all over his face. He dropped his cock to purposely grab your hips, ensuring that you couldn’t escape him as he continued to eat you out. Your body shook and convulsed with your orgasm and with the slightest bit of stimulation, which he was giving to you tenfold now. Tears slipped out of your eyes as they closed.

“S-stop,” you muttered. You pulled at the roots of his hair and he finally allowed you to pull him away.

His lips looked as if they were dripping and his eyes were clouded over. His cock sat heavy against his stomach. His pants pushed painfully against it but he didn’t seem to notice as he ran his tongue slowly over his bottom lip. He groaned as he savored the taste. You could hear your own heartbeat in your ears like rushing water in a river. Your breathing was loud, and your body still seemed to shudder with aftershocks.

You suddenly wanted all of him. You wanted to fill every bit of him against your body.

“Push them down more,” you panted.

With sluggish movements, he did as he was told, barely moving as he pushed his pants down his thighs and sat back on his heels. You stepped out of yours as you moved on wobbly legs. Slowly, you lowered yourself to the ground with Jin. Moving on your knees you straddled him where he sat. His hands draped lightly on your hips as you gripped his cock and sat down slowly. Now were you face to face with the expanse of his neck as his head fell back in pleasure. You leaned forward, placing your hot mouth against his skin. You felt the shiver that went through his body as you began to move. You threw your arm around his shoulders as you used him to pull yourself upwards on each bounce.

“Don’t. Come,” you punctuated breathlessly.

The gravel crunched beneath the crumbled apron. You’d probably have to nurse Jin’s poor knees after this.

You captured his lips with yours and his grip on your hips tightened. You slipped your tongue between his lips and tasted the salty sweetness of yourself on his soft skin. Your mind felt as if it were melting out of your ears as you rode him harder and harder, clinging to him as if your life depended on him alone. Pleasure, different from the first time, sent sharp shooting pleasure to your already stiff limbs. Your body wanted to rest, but you worked on sheer will alone as you felt the burning hot fire of your impending orgasm. Jin’s thighs shook as he kept himself from coming too soon. He sucked at your bottom lip as you pushed your chest against his, grinding your hips into his as you felt the first wave of your orgasm rising.

“Come with me,” you said quickly as you felt the crescendo of what was going to be an explosive second orgasm and you wanted to be filled to the brim when it happened.

You kept moving your hips the best you could as it rolled over you. You moved somewhat erratically as you cried out. Jin moaned loudly as he spilled inside of you. Something about it always doubled your pleasure, sharing something so intimate. You moved until you couldn’t stand it any longer and you suddenly seemed to feel every muscle in your body, and they were all screaming for you to stop moving. Slowly, you stopped, panting hard as you still clung to his shoulders. Both of you were covered in a sticky layer of sweat and you couldn’t wait to step out of the greenhouse and take a deep breath of fresh air.

“Shit,” Jin finally whispered as he gained back his breath.

You wiped your sweaty face against his already wet shirt before leaning back. Jin moved the damp hair that clung to your cheeks before holding your face lovingly. His eyes moved over your face and he brought you in closer, lips a hairsbreadth way from yours as he whispered.

“Out of all the flowers in the world, you are the rarest.”

#jinfest2020 #bangtanarmynet #ficswithluv #ksmutclub #jin smut #bts smut #jin fluff #sub!jin #dom!reader #jin x reader #reader insert #established relationship #nonidol!au #florist!jin

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intoanothermind · 3 years

Text

The Glue - Epilogue

T H E G L U E

Word Count: 1.1k words

Synopsis: Glue or Variable? This is the big question about Frankie’s existence. Assigned to the same role as Newt in WCKD’s Lethal Experiments, Frankie suddenly realizes that she will become just a variable to activate brain reactions in her former Group A friends. Without memories and being the only girl among several boys, she has the feeling of already knowing some of them. The new question that matters to WCKD is: will Frankie play her role as a variable correctly?

- Newt x OC (Frankie)

Masterlist

< Part 6

(Last chapter, guys! Remeber there'll be a spin-off soon and spoiler alert: it's with the cast!)

—

E P I L O G U E

“Frankie?” the girl heard Thomas's voice calling to her and she finally looked away from the window that she used for support for over a year to observe the landscape outside.

Since Minho and Newt were sent to Maze A, she was no longer the same and everyone realized that.

“Say it, Tommy.” She said, moving away from the window slowly, lethargically and sickly.

“Newt's brain transcripts have changed.” Thomas said, looking a little uneasy. “Maybe you'll want to see that.” He said, his voice stammering with fear and anxiety and then dashed down the hall.

The girl, still stunned, ran after her friend.

“Tommy!” The girl called for him, seeing him disappearing in the other corridor.

She followed him into the control room, looking around and seeing that most people there either barely looked up or didn’t notice her presence. Or they were instructed by Thomas not to intervene. The girl walked over to Thomas's table in silence, trying not to draw attention to herself and sat in the vacant chair between Thomas and Teresa. She looked at the screen and, at the time she did, she almost wished not to have done it.

“What does he think he's doing?!” She asked, startled.

Newt was hanging from the ivy of the Maze and the girl looked for several cameras that framed the same scene from different angles. No Griver and no threat, just the blonde holding ivy between his fingers while looking at the ground meters below him. The girl's heart just seemed to stop for a few seconds.

“Rapid brain rate, Thomas.” Teresa said, typing quickly, but with her eyes on the screen.

“Is there no way to prevent this?” The girl asked, feeling the affliction taking over and expelling all the depression that seemed to have consumed her since Newt and Minho were sent to Glade A.

“From him trying to kill himself by jumping?” Mocked Thomas and the girl's reaction was to shed some trapped tears, making him feel uncomfortable by the dry and unpleasant response he had given to his friend. “Possibly not, but we can make Minho find him as soon as possible.”

The girl agreed, unable to find her own voice. She saw Thomas typing frantically and a camera with no particular focus in any Hall started to move. After a few minutes and Newt had already thrown himself and broken his leg, regretting not being able to actually kill himself, the mechanical beetle controlled by Thomas found its target. Minho seemed confused that the beetle had surrounded him so persistently and decided to follow it. She knew that Thomas couldn’t be doing what he did - saving Newt - but she knew that he would make the excuse that it was because of his reactions that Frankie would be sent in the future.

When he saw Newt in his deplorable state, Minho cried alongside to the girl without even knowing it and all the girl thought was that she should be there to prevent Newt from doing that. She felt guilty, useless and incompetent. She should already be there to help him!

“Thomas.” The girl caught her friend’s attention, who looked away from the camera focused on Newt and realized that she had not looked away. “I know you're like one of the new Creators, so I think you can do it for me.”

“What do you mean, Frankie?” He asked, confused.

The girl approached the camera, which now seemed to focus on Newt's face, which implored Minho to kill him.

“It's time for me to go there.” She said simply, silently promising herself and Newt that she would soon be there for him.

~ * ~

“Come on, Chuck, we have to finish this for Alby soon!” I insisted again, when I was sure that the plump little boy might be able to punch me.

“Stop bugging me!” He complained, looking cuter than angry. “I'm not a little woman and being born knowing how to wash clothes!”

I gave him a sharp glare, as he continued to rub some Glader’s clothes. Alby had sent us to Homestead early in the morning to do all the laundry. And there were too many. At least we were about to finish them.

“Careful how you talk to me, Greenie!” I muttered, pretending to be irritated.

“As far as I know, the Greenie here is you!” Chuck replied, smiling.

I laughed victoriously. “Ah, but not for so long!”

“True, the new Greenie arrives today!” Chuck said cheerfully and I ended up being infected by his euphoria. “I'm dying to meet him!”

“Will he plong in his pants like you?” I joked, throwing some foam at him.

Chuck snorted.

“Stop, just because you were a brave klunk doesn’t mean that everyone is like that!” He replied and already foamed me back.

“It's not my fault either, brat!” I laughed.

Suddenly a loud sound invades my ears. A loud alarm that prevented me from even understanding my own thoughts. I looked confusedly at Chuck, who just widened his eyes and left his clothes still wet anyway in the bucket. When he quickly dried his hand on his clothes, I followed him and we went out of Homestead. I opened my mouth to ask him what was going on, but the noise was too loud and I feared he wouldn't hear my words. I frowned when I saw the huddle of boys surrounding the Box and I was even more confused and surprised when I realized that Chuck was directing us there. When we stopped at the perimeter of the crowd, I finally grabbed Chuck's arm and stopped him from continuing.

“What is happening?” I asked.

“The Box, you klunk, the Box is bringing the new shank!” Replied Chuck.

I widened my eyes, elbowing my way through the crowd like I did at Greg's Banishment, which seemed to have happened years ago. When I got to the front of the crowd, I didn't even mind seeing the Box open and I turned to Newt, giving him a quick peck on the lips.

“So, did my clothes arrive?” I asked, finally looking at Gally and the new Greenie inside the box.

Dark and strong, the familiar brown eyes guided me directly to him and a click came to my mind on its own.

“Tommy?”

#the maze runner #maze runner #tmr #newt #newt tmr #newt x reader #newt imagine #thomas tmr #thomas x reader #minho tmr #minho tmr x reader #the glue

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fallingstarnovel · 3 years

Text

Chapter Two

content warning: alcohol, binge drinking

That was how Evan ended up standing in front of a huge house in a part of the city that he had never visited before with an unopened bottle of vodka in his hand. It was getting dark out – midwinter was coming fast, turning the air frosty and driving everyone indoors. At least it would be warm inside the house.

Evan took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax. A puff of vapour clouded the air before him.

This was fine. It was fine. It was a party. He was supposed to be here – he had been invited. There was no need to be anxious. It wasn't going to be like it was back then.

He could hear loud music pumping from inside the house, and spilling from between the curtains of the house was dim purple light.

God, who was he kidding. He couldn't do this.

As Evan turned around to leave, someone opened the door from the inside.

"Oh, shit, there's someone here. Sorry, were you waiting to be let in?"

Evan looked up at the tall student who just stumbled outside. "Um. Yeah. My friend is inside. She–"

"Go ahead," the student said, holding the door open and gesturing to go inside. Evan nodded in thanks, before stumbling into the house.

Immediately, he was surrounded by people. The house was crammed wall to wall with students in various stages of inebriation, all chattering away at the top of their lungs as the hypnotic electro music filled the space between them. Evan found a pile of coats in the hallway and dropped his on top. He hoped it wouldn't get lost or stolen before he left.

"Excuse me," he said, edging his way past a group of girls in short dresses who gave him judgemental looks. "Sorry. Sorry, sorry–"

He couldn't find Aliya anywhere. She wasn't in the living room or the kitchen. Evan poked his head behind every door, but all he kept finding were more guests crammed into unlikely places like sardines in a tin can. He recognised one or two from around campus, but some of these people seemed slightly too old to be students. Was this really a university party? Did these people all know each other?

Evan saw someone who looked like they were slightly in charge, maybe, and tapped them on the shoulder. They turned around with an unfocused look, hair in messy tumble around their head.

"What's up? Didn't Fae get you it? Oh, shit, where did you get the vodka?"

Evan blinked. This person sure was saying words at him. "What?"

The person squinted at him. "Didn't you just ask me for a kitchen towel?"

"No, I just got here," Evan said. "But thanks. Um. I'm looking for Aliya, do you know where she is?"

That got him a blank look. "Who?"

"Aliya! Aliya, you know, she does Astro with me. Uh." The blank look still persisted on the person's face. "She came here with volleyball? No, wait, I mean, netball? I think?"

The person looked vaguely less blank. "Oh, wait, the netball bitches. I love those girls, they make me feel like I'm some kind of insect. My name's Rock by the way."

"Oh," said Evan, who didn't know why that was relevant. "That's a cool name. Like Dwayne Jo–"

"Not like Dwayne fucking Johnson," Rock replied with a scowl. "I hate that guy."

"Oh. Sorry."

Rock just nodded, before tapping a person on the shoulder seemingly at random. "Is Becca around?"

"In the garden," the girl replied, "probably? Unless she left."

They were both yelling at full volume. Evan winced. His ears were already ringing.

Rock led him through sweaty crowds of people to the kitchen, and then out of a door into the garden. It wasn't much of a garden – more like a patch of concrete with a few bricks and weeds lying around, as if for decoration. There were more people out here, mostly smoking. Some of them looked like they were asleep. It was so cold out here – the girls were huddled up under big jackets that they had stolen from other people.

Wait a minute. Evan was pretty sure that was his coat. How did it get stolen so fast?!

"Aliya?" Evan called. Some people looked up, their eyes glazed over.

"Aliya bounced," someone said.

Evan's heart sank. "What?"

"Yeah, she dipped pretty quickly. Said she forgot about a deadline."

God damn it. Evan fought the urge to bang his head off the nearest wall. Why didn't she text him and say so? He could have escaped too!

"Right, thanks. I, uh–"

"Bro, no, you're not leaving yet, are you?" Rock said, giving him a betrayed look. "You just got here!"

Evan shrugged, plastering on a polite smile. "I don't really know anyone here–"

"Yet," Rock said firmly. "You don't know anyone yet. You know what they say about strangers? They're just friends you haven't made yet. Come on, live a little."

Personally, Evan thought Rock was slightly unhinged. He must have looked obviously uncomfortable, because Rock held out a hand and squeezed his shoulder.

"You don't go to a lot of parties, huh? It's cool. You can chill with me. Give it half an hour and see how you feel, yeah?"

Why was this person so eager to see a complete stranger join the party? Evan considered saying no and leaving anyway, but then again...

Evan wasn't a coward. He would give it half an hour and see if he made any friends. And if not, he could always leave.

"Sounds good," he said.

Rock cheered. A bunch of other people in the garden cheered too, though Evan doubted they knew what they were cheering for. "Alright! We got another one! Come on, pal, let's get you a drink!'

Half an hour later and after a couple of drinks, Evan somehow found himself watching Rock pour out a tray full of shots in the kitchen.

Several people wandered over in interest, lured by the idea of free alcohol like they were cats who just heard the tin of tuna being opened. "Who's down?" Rock said.

A few people came forward. Evan watched as a girl slung herself over Rock's shoulders with a bored expression. She had long, long straight black hair, like an oil slick that ran down her back, and she was either exceptionally tall or she was wearing huge platform boots. Maybe both. Evan thought it was both. "I will."

"Evan?" Rock said. "You want one? It's okay if you don't, I know shots are a little much..."

"I can do shots," Evan said without meaning to. Oh, shit. Was he trying to impress the hot goth girl? He kind of was. "Uh, if that's cool."

Rock's smile widened. "If you're sure you can handle it. Are you a lightweight, Evan? Because if so, I'm not going to be the one cleaning up your puke afterwards."

Evan smiled. "Ah, I don't know. Maybe. I'll try to keep it inside."

"Attaboy, big guy! That's what I like to hear!"

Soon, everyone around him had a shot in their hand. Evan had no idea what the liquid was. He tried to sniff it, but then Rock was counting down, and everyone was lifting their shot glasses up and drinking.

People winced and made appropriate noises as the burn hit. Rock blinked away his tears with a grin, before watching Evan drink with interest.

Evan calmly put down the shot. After seeing everyone else's reaction, he quickly pretended to gasp. "Oh, wow, the burn, wow..."

Rock's eyes flickered over the glass. It was empty. "Have you done that before?"

Evan shrugged, waving him away. "Once or twice."

Hot Goth Girl finally seemed to notice him. She stared him down, before slowly smiling at him, her black painted mouth in a closed-lip smirk. It was kind of terrifying.

"Hey Rock," she said, keeping her eyes on Evan. "Who's this?"

"I'm Evan," said Evan, before holding out a sweaty hand. She stared at it, and he immediately dropped it. "Haha, what, I don't know why I did that. Nice to meet you."

"I've seen you around," she said.

It sounded like an accusation. Evan wilted – before perking up. Wait, didn't this mean she remembered him? She had noticed him before! This was good, right? He nodded eagerly. "You recognise me? I'm sorry, I don't think I've seen you around, otherwise I would have remembered – I mean, you're very recognisable, haha, there's not a lot of people around here who dress so, like..."

He trailed off, feeling awkward. Hot Goth Girl glared at him.

"Like what?"

Evan blinked. She was wearing black lipstick and huge eyeliner, like two bat wings painted on her face. Most people around here weren't so brave.

"Um... so, um... alternatively."

Her eyes narrowed. Slowly, she grinned. "Where did you find this guy, Rock?"

"Aliya likes him," Rock laughed, before holding up the bottle. "Let's do round two," they hollered, and the night took a downward turn from there.

Coming to this party was such a bad idea.

When Evan woke up in the morning, he was very confused.

He had a vague memory of someone carrying him home. And holding someone's hand. And...

He groaned with embarrassment and rolled over to bury his head in his pillow to try and suffocate himself. When that didn't work, he rolled onto his back and massaged his forehead.

It felt like something had crawled into his mouth and died. He was so thirsty. But mostly he was mortified.

Ah, that poor person! Evan probably rambled on about weird depressing personal problems! He became one of those maudlin drunks who just starts crying about stuff! The person who carried him here must have been totally sick of his shit.

What an angel. Evan wished he could remember who they were.

He looked around for his phone, his bleary eyes cracking open. Whoever they were, they left a full glass of water on the desk. Evan jumped at it, drinking the whole thing in seconds.

It helped a little bit. But now he felt nauseous.

This sucked. Why did he do this.

Oh, shit, his phone and his wallet. Did he have them? He looked around in a panic. Were they in the jeans he wore? Where the fuck were his jeans?!

Slowly, he looked under his duvet and realised that he was still wearing them. Ah. Oops.

At least the person didn't undress him while he was drunk or unconscious. That would have been uncomfortable. In fact, he seemed in exceptionally good condition, considering he got black out drunk at a strangers house.

Aaaa god why did he do that!!! Why didn’t he slow down and drink some water!! This was so embarrassing, he could have done anything last night!!

... oh jesus fuck, why did his eyes hurt so much? They were so sore! It was like someone shone a supercharged torch in his eyes or made him stare into the god damn sun!! What happened last night?!

In his pocket, he found his wallet and phone, much to his relief. Evan quickly scrolled through his messages to see if he had sent anything weird to anyone.

Huh? Who the fuck were all these people he had added on Facebook? Why had he sent out so many friend requests?! He didn't recognise any of the names here at all!

He also saw a series of messages he sent to Aliya.

> you. are the qorst friend ever

> ┻┻︵ヽ(`Д´)ﾉ︵┻┻

i'm so sorry!! i'm really sorry!! oh i feel so bad, i thought i text you not to come anymore!! <

> ABANDONED me

> discarded me like an EMPTY CRISP PALKCET

> packet

... evan are you perhaps a little drunk? <

> everyone is very friendky. They keep handing me shots. These are my new friends now

> you're fired

no!!! 😭😭😭 <

don't fire me!!! i need someone to copy revision notes off!! <

> too late. now rock is my new fri be. Goodbye

> oh shit they’re doiign WEED in here

> Your missing otu on thrjelkc weeb

who's rock?? <

seriously though, be safe evan and have fun. if you need to call anyone, im up all night doing this assignment so just call me okay? x <

Just as he finished reading the texts, his phone buzzed in his hand. He nearly dropped it in shock. There was an unread text in his inbox from an unrecognised number.

How are you feeling? <

This was awkward. Clearly, this was a person Evan gave his number to last night. Unfortunately, he had no clue who they were, and now he felt too awkward to ask, since they clearly assumed he knew who it was.

> haha a little hungover!! oops

Was that too many exclamation marks? This mystery person would think he was a psycho.

The reply came soon.

Make sure you drink plenty of water. And eat something salty. <

Do you want me to bring anything? <

Seriously, who was this and why were they being so nice? Evan still felt a little awkward.

> i will :) and no thank you but that's so kind! how are you feeling?

I'm fine. I'm glad you're alright. <

...

This was too much to deal with. Evan decided not to answer. Hopefully, whoever this was would drop a clue at some point, or just leave him alone.

There weren't many people it could be. He had all his friends (haha, all his friends, as if he had more than three) saved as contacts. So this must be a stranger from the party.

A memory flashed into his head of the messy haired host – what was their name, Tree? Root? Boulder? – saying something stupid about all strangers being friends he hadn't made yet. It was probably them. They seemed overly familiar, so this lined up.

Ah, what the hell. This was a problem for future Evan.

He rolled himself into the shower without vomiting even a little bit, which he considered a huge achievement that should be celebrated with pizza for breakfast.

Previous Chapter | Contents | Next Chapter

(psst, read the next chapter early on my patreon here! or join the discord for pings when the next chapter updates!)

#chapter

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freshtomatoesddd · 4 years

Text

Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap chp. 6

“Whoa, what’s that?” Ty Lee’s eyes sparkled in wonder.

“It’s called a train,” Azula said.

Ty Lee stepped towards the machine. It sat on a bed of rails which stretched far past the horizon, and the ‘train’ itself was a wonder, made out of several carts with the Fire Nation emblem on the front cart. The brunette recalled Azula stating that it was not only capable of transporting equipment and resources, but passengers as well. And as her eyes scanned the metal machine, Ty Lee was able to wrap her head around such a claim.

“Are you going to let her keep ogling the thing?” Mai asked.

The brunette turned around. Ashy eyes met with the tawny brown of her friend’s, though her gaze had been narrowed down on Ty Lee, a displeased look replacing her usual blasé expression. Azula on the other hand had her eyes fixed onto the brunette. She wondered what to do under Azula’s stare, her mind questioned how it was that she hadn’t grown used to the princess’s routine looks. All she could come up with was a simple wave.

Mai groaned. “Can we just get on already?”

“Very well,” Azula said.

Ty Lee then boarded the train, along with her friends and about five dozen soldiers. Though, she hadn’t a clue where they were headed. Last she remembered, they were to visit a state near Ba Sing Se, but the princess hadn’t specified which one. She leaned on the fine leather of her seat, pleased that their cart had been made with the same materials as Azula’s office. From the dark varnish of the metal floors, to the cabinets around them which held a number of scrolls, and the dark brown oak of their table. Such a theme rang familiar with her, gave off a sort of comfort she loved.

“Hey, where are we going anyway?” Ty Lee queried.

“Kerkaw. We’ll be there by daybreak,” Azula said, the rustling of paper between her fingers.

She turned around to look out the window. There, it seemed that the outside world sped past them. It made Ty Lee wonder if they were the ones moving, or if their environment had taken up to running faster than she imagined it possible. She knew that it was feasible for the ground to move, whether that be from earth quakes or the gradual movement from within the earth. She questioned how many thousand years it would take for the dirt under them to be moving at such speed, similar to what she was experiencing.

An interesting conundrum. She asked herself if human beings were able to survive long enough to see such a day happen, though she knew it to be ‘improbable,’ as Azula would say. Then, she asked if it were possible for the Fire Nation to create faster trains, ones which could zoom past Ba Sing Se till Kerkaw in only an hour. That would be nice.

“Why are we going there?” Mai asked in a rather dull voice.

Ty Lee took her eyes off the window, her buzzing mind now calmed as Mai’s question brought her back to the present. Her friend looked bored as always.

Azula’s eyes were glued to a text. “My father has assigned me there; he wrote that I was to eliminate a local warlord in Chao.”

Mai shrugged. “Then why are we going to Kerkaw? And why do you have to deal with him?”

“Mai, you shouldn’t question the Fire Lord’s orders,” Azula said.

“I’m not, I’m just saying that the Fire Lord could’ve made one of his generals do it. You’re already governing Ba Sing Se, and he wants you to do beat up some warlord on top of that?”

Azula quirked up a brow. “Do you, perhaps, feel inconvenienced?”

“I do.” Mai’s expression lay blank.

The princess smirked. “Well, I’m sorry that you won’t be able to read any of my dear brother’s letters till we get back. Truly, I pity the both of you.”

“Whatever,” Mai said.

Ty Lee jumped in. “Hey, come on guys, calm down. And besides, isn’t this cool? I mean, we’re on a train.”

Mai looked at her. “What about it?”

The brunette leaned in as she grabbed Mai’s arms. “Are you kidding me? We’re going a million kilometers an hour, I never even knew this was possible.”

“You’ve never been on a train before?” Mai asked, retracting from Ty Lee’s grasp.

Ty Lee furrowed her brows. “No, have you?”

Mai shrugged. “A couple of times. But I got to say, the constant smog and depressing interior isn’t for me.”

The brunette gasped. “What—Really? But the trains in Ba Sing Se aren’t like that.”

“No, the ones in the mainland.”

“They have trains in the mainland now?”

Mai nodded.

“Wow, that’s so cool. Why didn’t you tell me?” Ty Lee asked.

“I thought we’d get back sooner,” Mai’s eyes veered off to the side, “Then you’ll see all the stuff you missed since you joined the circus.”

Azula joined in. “Even if you have been on a train before, none would compare in terms of speed.”

Mai rolled her eyes. “What does it matter? They’re all the same anyway.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Azula flipped to another page, “I personally oversaw the creation of this one.”

Again, Ty Lee gasped. “How did you get it to run super-fast?”

Azula looked up for a brief moment. “I wouldn’t know. I told the engineers that they had better make a faster model, and so they did.”

Though disappointed at such a simple answer, Ty Lee figured that even with a detailed reply, she wouldn’t be able to make sense of it. But still, the fact that they were able to sit inside such a wonder of engineering, she couldn’t help but to continue staring out the window. Ty Lee wondered what the trains in the mainland were like, and if they truly couldn’t compete in terms of speed, as well as power.

As the ride went on, Ty Lee struck up conversation with Mai. Though she noted that the latter was reluctant to join in, as most all the topics Mai found to be uninteresting. They spoke of the train, as Ty Lee couldn’t stop fawning over how advanced and ‘cool’ it was. Mai commented on how backwards the circus must be, to the point that they never bothered to use a train as means of transport. Ty Lee laughed as she recalled how she had to pack her tent every time they would re-locate, a statement which left Mai speechless.

“How do you even pack a tent?” she asked.

Ty Lee placed a hand on her chin. “Well, it’s not that hard, especially since mine wasn’t that big.”

“How did you live like that for three years?”

Ty Lee scratched the back of her head, she hummed. “I never really thought about it, honestly. I was happy, and that’s all that mattered to me.”

“So, you’re fine with anything as long as it makes you happy?”

The brunette hummed once more. “Well, I wouldn’t say anything, but yeah, basically.”

Mai pursed her lips. “Right.”

Their conversation moved on to another topic, one which concerned what interesting happenings have been going on in their lives. And keeping with such a theme, Ty Lee had one burning question to ask her friend. She leaned in, a grin stuck onto her face, one which granted a rather concerned look from Mai. Though, the brunette couldn’t help that she was curios, any sane person with a working pair of eye balls would want to prove their suspicions correct.

“You still haven’t told me about Zuko,” Ty Lee’s words came out in a frantic haste, each syllable laced with intrigue.

Mai rolled her eyes. “Why do you care?”

Ty Lee’s grin persisted. “I think you know why.”

The girl sighed, stoking the burning interest within Ty Lee’s psyche. Whereas before she held a mere sense of curiosity, now she was rivetted, compelled to find out more of her friend’s love life. Of course, she knew that it wasn’t quite nice to put one’s nose where it didn’t belong. But Ty Lee figured that they were close enough to speak of such things with each other, without a need for shame at that. And if Mai required a little shove to fess up, Ty Lee was more than happy to oblige.

“Come on, come on, come on. Tell me, tell me, I know you want to tell me,” Ty Lee repeated those words like a chant, one which could grant her the wish she so desired.

“Fine. What do you want to know?” Mai growled.

Ty Lee clasped her hands together as she made incomprehensible noises. Her feet stomped the metal floor multiple times as her mind raced to search for what to say, and which topic she’d delve into. Amidst her squealing, Ty Lee managed to cherry pick a subject. One so influential, that to not learn its truth would rob her of the fulfilling life she so desperately desired. That being Mai and Zuko’s relationship status.

“Are you and Zuko together yet?” she asked through bated breath.

Mai took in a breath. “Yes, we are. There, I told you, now stop talking.”

Again, Ty Lee squealed in excitement. A giddiness came from her stomach and made its way through her entire body, coursing through her veins like some type of drug she’s never heard of. Like a child after receiving candy, she couldn’t be bothered to lay still. Her feet continued to stomp on the floor, her arms fidgeting on her side, grin molded onto the girls now sore cheeks. She leaned in, eyes twinkled as she was obligated to learn more. She needed to, she had to.

“And? How is it like?” she asked.

“How should I know? We haven’t even met in person.”

Ty Lee pouted. “Aw, come on, Mai. You’ve been writing, right? Can you at least tell me about that?”

Mai sighed. “This is the last question.”

The brunette nodded with a fervent enthusiasm. “Yes, totally. Just tell me already, please, I’m dying.”

Again, Mai sighed. “We’ve been talking about what to do when I get back. But whenever I give him an idea, he always tells me to visit some tea shop instead.”

“Why a tea shop?” Ty Lee queried.

“Didn’t I tell you that was the last question?”

Before Ty Lee could say anything, a sharp voice cut through their conversation.

“No, do tell, why would he want the both of you to visit a tea shop?” Azula asked.

Mai’s eyes widened for a split second, taken aback by the sudden intrusion. “I don’t know, he keeps telling me that the tea there reminded him of his uncle or something.”

The princess quirked up a brow. “I see. Well, that certainly does sound interesting.”

“Seriously? What’s so fun about going to a tea shop anyways? You just sit down, drink tea and leave,” Mai said in a slight huff.

Ty Lee quirked up a brow. Her friend was right, there wasn’t much to do in a tea shop. However, she figured that the purpose of such an establishment was not only limited to selling tea.

“I don’t think that’s it,” she said, “Yeah sure, you drink and stuff. But since Zuko and you will be going on a date, you’ll also talk. And I mean, that can be fun too.”

Mai rolled her eyes, though Ty Lee was reluctant to believe that her friend brushed off the idea with such ease.

And so, their conversation went on, with minimal to no interruptions from Azula. They spoke of what Ty Lee should do once they reached the mainland, the brunette approximating how much progress she’s yet to see in the three years she was gone. Mai shrugged, noting that though much has changed in terms of technological development and city planning, the people were still the same.

After a few more minutes of conversation, Mai expressed her desire to leave for another cart. She commented on how dull the inside looked, as if someone had taken the interior planning of an office and slathered it all over their cart. Ty Lee questioned how that was a bad thing, adding that it must be some type of innovation, at least in terms of train interior design.

“Ty Lee, it’s a train. Train’s aren’t supposed to look like offices,” Mai said.

Ty Lee shrugged. “Why not?”

“Whatever, my point is this cart is boring.”

Azula cut in. “And do you expect the other carts to be exciting? Compared to the others, our cart is far superior. It even has comfortable seating and an efficient cooling unit.”

Mai pointed towards the cabinet next to Azula. “Oh please, how is that superior?”

The princess quirked up a brow. “This cabinet is filled with many interesting scrolls to read, perfect for killing time till we reach Kerkaw.”

The girl blinked a few times. “Right, and what sort of interesting scrolls are inside that cabinet?”

“That depends, what do you like to read?” Azula asked.

“I don’t like reading,” the girl said, a blank look on her face.

Azula scoffed. “Well, too bad. I suppose you’ll have to find something else to do till we get there.”

“I will.” Mai turned around and left.

With nobody but the two of them, Ty Lee inched closer to the princess, who’s eyes meticulously scanned through the text. She came so close that no space was between them, the princess paying no mind. Ty Lee pursed her lips as she wondered what Azula was reading, and if it were something far beyond her realm of comprehension. Though, even if it were, she wouldn’t mind having the princess explain at length the many intricacies of the text.

She asked Azula what it was that had captured her attention for much of the ride. The princess eyes attention on the paper; she spoke in a low voice. “Something.”

Ty Lee frowned. She slid closer once more, to snatch a glimpse of what Azula had been reading. Much to her surprise, she found that the text bore a story she was quite familiar with. One which told of a passionate summer between star-crossed lovers, and one that had piqued her interest so that it became Ty Lee’s favorite scroll to read. That is to say, if she had even bothered to read any scrolls for the past few months.

“I thought you didn’t like romance,” she said.

The princess’s attention didn’t stray. “I don’t.”

Ty Lee furrowed her brows. “So, why are you reading that then?”

“It was a whim,” Azula said.

Ty Lee quirked up a brow. “Right, totally. Where did you even get that?”

“I bought it in Ba Sing Se. Though the subject matter itself taboo, there is no legal ban. And even if there was, I doubt they would’ve been able to enforce it,” Azula said.

Ty Lee tilted her head, bewildered by the princess’s sudden change of heart. “Yeah, and I’m supposed to believe that you don’t hate romance all of a sudden?”

“What else do you want me to tell you?” Azula asked, “I’ve given you the truth, yet you don’t believe me. Do you, perhaps, want me to lie?”

The brunette rested her head on Azula’s shoulder, her thin fingers ran down her lover’s back. “I never said that.”

“My point stands. If you don’t believe the truth, what do you want me to do?” Azula asked.

Ty Lee paused for a moment as her mind came up with the right words to form her next few sentences. As she remained silent, her hand continued to run up and down Azula’s back. She hummed, both from her lover’s warmth and through force of habit. Her psyche raced past the many possible questions and statements for her to say, Ty Lee at one point lost on how the conversation even started. By the end, she settled for a simple reply.

“I mean. No, I don’t want that. It’s just, I kinda find it hard to believe that you can tolerate it now,” she said.

Azula closed the text, Ty Lee eyes wandered up as they were met with a fierce stare. The princess leaned in, their face mere inches apart.

“Would you like to know?” The princess asked.

Ty Lee nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

Read the rest of it here ;) https://archiveofourown.org/works/28172334/chapters/70425006

#tyzula #ty lee #azula #azula x ty lee #princess azula #avatar: tla #Avatar The Last Airbender #arguing about books #ao3 #fanfiction #fanfic #i wrote this instead of doing my homework

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uncloseted · 4 years

Note

Hey! I’m the anon (and also Gay!Bama anon) who sent the asks about BPD and being rejected by that closeted guy. I guess the reason I think I have BPD is because I’m in my 20’s now, and I just have issues with perceived rejection for whatever reason. Anytime someone rejects me or something, I get really depressed and question myself a lot, or I question my worth, and it’s over things that should not be a big deal, but to me they feel like the end of the world. It’s like I have no emotional skin, if that makes sense, so everything hurts more than it would someone who is normal. It’s just so hard sometimes. I get so emotional or upset over things that there’s no need in being that upset over. I just wish I could change it, but I can’t. I feel like I’ve destroyed a lot of potential relationships and also friendships by overreacting and it makes me feel so crazy. (1/2)

(2/3) (Gay!Bama anon) I think it might be because my Dad and me always had a difficult relationship, and now that he’s gone things are really more difficult than before. I started going back to therapy and I’m about to go back to school to finish up my degree, but I just wish I could manage these feelings better. The only way I have been able to deal with them is by either numbing them with alcohol, drugs, or fulfilling them with anonymous encounters, or just cutting myself off from other people, so that way I have nothing to react to. It just really sucks because I’m so lonely all the time, but I don’t know what else to do about it other than that. I used to self harm to help me cope with my feelings, because then I could hurt myself and not hurt the people in my life by lashing out over trivial things, like irrelevant rejection or changing plans. It feels like every small thing is a seed, from which sprouts a tree of paranoia and depression.

(3/3) (Gay!Bama anon) I also have had such a hard time trying to figure out my plans for a career and goals because I’m always switching them up, because one personality trait might take the forefront, but then that could change and that influences how I feel about something or what I want to do. I just wish I could turn all of these feelings off for a while, or something, and just be like calm or something.

Hi Gay!Bama anon! Always happy to see you in my inbox, although I’m sorry to hear that you’re struggling. The fact that I know it’s you and I know you’re in your 20s changes my answer slightly.

There are a number of symptoms that need to be present to be diagnosed with borderline personality disorder; rejection sensitivity is definitely one of them, but not the only one. The DSM-5 requires five or more of the following symptoms for a BPD diagnosis:

Chronic feelings of emptiness

Emotional instability in reaction to day-to-day events (e.g., intense episodic sadness, irritability, or anxiety usually lasting a few hours and only rarely more than a few days. Generally, these are out of proportion to the event that triggered them)

Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment (e.g., calling a friend/partner/family member several times a day during working hours and getting upset when they don’t answer)

Identity disturbance with markedly or persistently unstable self-image or sense of self (e.g., frequently and suddenly changing goals, beliefs, vocational aspirations, and sexual identity, or assuming the identity of people they’re close to)

Impulsive behavior in at least two areas that are potentially self-damaging (e.g., spending, gambling, sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, binge eating, committing crimes)

Inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger (e.g., frequent displays of temper, constant anger, recurrent physical fights)

Pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterized by extremes between idealization and devaluation (also known as "splitting"- basically, thinking a person is the best person ever, the love of your life, your best friend, someone with no faults, and then switching to thinking the person is the worst person ever, who has never cared about you, who has no redeeming qualities. This typically results in alternating between over-involvement with the person and withdrawal from the person)

Recurrent suicidal behavior, gestures, or threats, or self-harming behavior

Transient, stress-related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptoms (typically only lasting hours or days, and triggered by an external stressor. Dissociative symptoms may include feeling like your body is unreal or altered in a strange way, feeling that the outside world is unreal, and illusions).

People with BPD will also typically have a compromised ability to recognize the feelings and needs of other people, and have intense, unstable, and conflicted relationships that are marked by mistrust and neediness. It’s also important that these symptoms have persisted over time and across different situations.

If that doesn’t resonate with you, there are a number of other different conditions that result in being particularly sensitive to rejection, including social anxiety, depression, generalized anxiety, ADD/ADHD, eating disorders, and childhood trauma are just a few things that could cause a fear of rejection. I would talk to your therapist about this symptom and ask for help coming up with some coping mechanisms.

If all of that does sound like you, I would talk to your therapist about a possible BPD diagnosis and potentially a referral to a therapist who specializes in dialectical behavioral therapy. DBT is the most studied and effective treatment for BPD, so it’s a good place to start if that is what you’re struggling with. In the meantime, you can learn the principles of DBT on your own and try to begin applying them to your life.

DBT combines mindfulness with techniques for distress tolerance, emotional regulation, and interpersonal effectiveness. Having a therapist and attend group therapy sessions are an important part of a full course DBT. However, there are several exercises you can try at home:

Keeping a Diary

One of the easiest things you can do at home is to start tracking your behaviors. Note any self-injurious or life threatening behaviors, behaviors which indirectly cause harm to yourself or others, and quality of life issues. Write down any triggers you’ve noticed.

Mindfulness

There are a few different types of mindfulness exercises you can try. Since you mentioned that you want to be able to turn your feelings off, trying meditation might be a good place to start. There are some good apps, like Headspace and Calm, that can help you learn how to meditate and encourage you to practice meditation, and there are also a ton of videos on YouTube that do the same.

DBT encourages the concept of “radical acceptance”- the idea that one should face situations, both positive and negative, without any judgement. Try to let go of fighting reality and accept a situation for what it is. When you’ve accepted a situation, then you can figure out how to change it.

You can also try using “what” skills when practicing mindfulness; these are observe, describe, and participate. They’re “what” you do when you’re practicing mindfulness. Nonjudgementally paying attention to the present moment is an important component of DBT, so the first thing you can do is observe. Try to nonjudgementally observe your environment within and outside of yourself. Notice the feelings you’re experiencing, and then try to let slide off of your mind. Next, describe: express what you observed, either to someone around you or to yourself. Try to use your five senses to put words to what you’re observing. What can you see? Hear? Smell? Taste? Feel? Finally, participate: try your best to be fully focused on and involved in any activity that you’re doing. When your mind wanders, gently pull it back to the task you’re currently doing.

Distress Tolerance

One of the goals of DBT is to help people develop the ability to calmly recognize negative situations and decide if and how to address them. It’s important to learn how to be distressed without becoming overwhelmed or hiding from that feeling.

TIPP is one of the fastest and most popular distress tolerance skills, since it alleviates distress quickly. Tip the temperature of your face by splashing it with very cold water, intensely exercise for 20 minutes, do paced breathing- breathe in for four seconds and our for six to eight seconds, and then do progressive muscle relaxation- starting from the top of your body, tense and relax each muscle group until you get to your toes.

You can also distract yourself from unpleasant emotions using ACCEPTS. Engage in activities that you enjoy, contribute by helping others, compare yourself to people who are less fortunate or how you used to be when you were in a worse state, evoke a different emotion by putting on a happy song or watching a comedy special, push away your situation in your mind, and put something else first by thinking about something else, and finally, create sensations that are intense, such as holding an ice cube or eating spicy food.

Another thing you can try when you’re in distress is to IMPROVE the moment. Imagine relaxing scenes, things going well, or other pleasing scenarios, find meaning in what you’re feeling, pray, if you’re religious, relax your muscles using the progressive muscle relaxation we talked about above, do one thing at a time, and focus all your attention on it, vacation if you can (by taking a break from the situation), and encourage yourself. Tell yourself it’s possible to make it through your current situation and cope with it. You can be your own best cheerleader.

Emotional Regulation

Since people who have BPD frequently have intense emotions, it can be helpful to learn how to regulate those emotions.

First, try identifying and labeling your emotions. Tune in with yourself and ask yourself what you’re feeling. Is it anger? Fear? Sadness? Then, you can try to change unwanted emotions using opposite-reactions. With opposite-reactions, you do the opposite of the urge you’re feeling in the moment. For example, if you want to isolate yourself, instead, reach out to a friend.

Fact-checking is also an important technique- ask yourself, “do the facts warrant the intensity of the response I’m feeling?” Then ask yourself, “what is the event prompting my emotion,” “what are my interpretations and assumptions about the event, and are those true?”, “am I assuming a threat? How likely is it to actually occur?”, “what’s the disaster? How can I cope well with it?”, and “does my emotion or intensity fit the facts?” There’s a sample fact-checking worksheet that you can find here: http://edencounseling.com/resources/dbt-emotional-regulation-group-4-handouts.pdf

If your facts are correct and the situation is the problem, then you can problem solve. First, identify your goal in solving the problem- what needs to happen for you to be okay, and what’s reasonable? Then, brainstorm as many solutions as you can come up with, without being critical of your ideas. Choose a solution that fits your goal and is likely to work, using a pro/con list to decide if necessary. Act on your decision, and then evaluate if it worked. If it didn’t work, go back to the “choose” stage and pick a different solution to try.

Interpersonal Effectiveness

Interpersonal relationships can be difficult for people with DBT, so it’s important to learn how to ask for what you need, how to say no, and how to cope with interpersonal conflicts. There are three techniques in this module: DEAR MAN, GIVE, and FAST.

The DEAR MAN technique focuses on conveying your needs to someone else. Start by describing your situation using specific, fact-based statements about a recent situation. Then express the emotions experienced when the situation occurred, why the situation was a problem, and how you feel about it. Assert yourself by clearly and specifically requesting the behavior change you would like. Reinforce your position by explaining to the person what the positive impacts of changing their behavior might be for them. Mindfully focus on the situation, without seeking validation, and redirect the conversation back to your main point when it seems to be diverting. Appear confident and assertive, even if you’re not feeling confident or assertive. Finally, negotiate with the person to come to a compromise that both parties are happy with.

The GIVE tool focuses on relationship maintenance, whether that’s with friends, family, co-workers, or romantic partners. It is used in conversations. Use gentle language, free of put-downs, sarcasm, or judgement, even as a joke. Be as interested as you can in what the other person is saying. Give them your undivided attention by making eye contact and asking questions. Really listen to them, don’t just wait your turn to talk. Validate their situation, either through words, body language, or facial expressions. Often, people just want to be heard and for someone to understand what they’re going through. Finally, try to adopt an easy manner: do your best to appear calm and comfortable during the conversation. Use friendly humor and smile.

The FAST skill focuses on maintaining your self-respect. Be fair to yourself and to the person you’re talking to. Don’t apologize more than once, and only apologize for things that are your fault. Stick to your values- determine what you believe and stand by it, without letting other people sway your decisions. Lastly, be truthful. Lying can only damage relationships and reduce the respect you have for yourself.

I know that’s a ton of stuff I’ve just thrown at you, so if you’re still with me, thank you! You don’t have to adopt all of these skills at once or even at all. Getting good at just one or two of them will improve your life. A therapist will be able to help you practice these different skills so that when you need them, they’re already in your mind. Good luck! I hope you get the support you need and that things start looking up for you soon.

#DBT #borderline personality disorder #BPD #dialectical behavioral therapy #Anonymous #effys-closet #effys closet

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twstarchives · 4 years

Text

Admissions Videos Transcripts

● Video Source: https://admission.twisted-wonderland.aniplex.co.jp/ ● Info: These videos first debuted at an in-person event at Shibuya Modi on October 26 & 27, 2019. Attendees were given an invitation card (pictured above) and instructed to place it in a “fire” where it then turned into a card with a keyhole. There were designated screens at this event which appeared blank to onlookers, but if you looked through the keyhole you received, you’d be able to see one of the dorm leaders greeting you. These videos were later posted on the official website on December 25.

・━━━━✥◈✥━━━━・

Dire Crowley

Please allow me to welcome you today to the mage-training school Night Raven College’s admissions experience. I am the school’s headmaster, Dire Crowley. Now, please place that invitation you are holding in the light.

Are you ready? If we were to host a proper entrance ceremony, the Mirror of Darkness would select a house that perfectly matches your soul. Today, however, is a special admissions experience. I will use my own magic to choose a house for you. What do you think? Aren’t I so kind?

Another thing, today is a bit different than an official sorting. Regardless of which house is chosen for you, please refrain from any complaining. Now then, shall we begin?

One! Two! Three!

A keyhole linked to the gates of Night Raven College has opened in what used to be your invitation. Now, don’t be afraid; take your invitation back from the light. Hold the keyhole up to your eye, and take a peek out from the gates. I wonder where your soul will be guided?

Riddle Rosehearts

My name is Riddle Rosehearts. I’m the dorm leader ruling over Heartslabyul, which was founded on the severity of the Queen of Hearts.

You’re the new student, right? Since you’ve joined Heartslabyul, you must obey the laws of the Queen of Hearts just like a card soldier. First, start with a greeting.

…No. Speak more nicely. Don’t twiddle your fingers. Turn out your toes, and curtsy! Open your mouth a little wider!

Very good. You have quite a bit of promise in you. I don’t hate a person who obeys the rules. I have faith you’ll be able to follow all 810 of them.

But I’ll tell you just in case: If you ever were to break one of this dormitory’s rules…You already know, don’t you? It’ll be off with your head. Keep that in mind.

Leona Kingscholar

Are you the new kid?

What? Why do you look so excited?

Yes, well, forgive me for not leaping for joy. I’m Leona Kingscholar. The dorm leader for the house founded in the indomitable spirit of the King of Beasts, Savanaclaw.

We have only one rule here that’s absolute: Obey the king. It’s something even an herbivore like you can understand. Not too much to ask for, right?

You want to know what happens if you break that rule? Oh, no, no, let’s not think about things you don’t need to. I’m worried something horrible will end up happening to our adorable little newbie.

There are tons of aggressive guys in Savanaclaw. You wouldn’t want to end up in a mess with a pack of starving hyenas, right? If you want to see the light of another day, then curl up your tail and do as you’re told.

Azul Ashengrotto

Hello. So you are the new student everyone’s been talking about. Allow me to welcome you to Octavinelle, the dorm founded on the mercy of the Sea Witch. I work as its dorm leader, Azul Ashengrotto.

You are really quite fortunate. Since you’ve become an Octavinelle student, you’ll be able to spend your school life without feeling miserable, lonely, or depressed!

Why, you ask? Should anything happen that leaves you troubled, I will immediately come to help you. Yes, feel free to ask me anything at all. As dorm leader, I’m only doing what’s expected of me. I am very kind to those who are obedient.

Of course… In the case that you are unable to pay the price… I would have to punish you. Even I would feel just anguished if I had to hear your screams. You wouldn’t do anything to make me sad… would you?

Kalim Al-Asim

Oh?! You’re here! I’m Kalim Al-Asim. I’m the dorm leader for Scarabia, the house founded in the tactical spirit of the Sorcerer of the Sand. I’ve been looking for you. ‘Cause we can’t start the party unless everyone’s here! Today’s gonna be so much fun!

Golden camels, purple peacocks, white Persian monkeys, birds that warble on key… and a whole bunch of other animals; we’ve brought them all! And also… a magic carpet!

We’ll watch the parade, dance and sing, and have the best time of our lives!! Ah! Obviously, I had a whole lot of food prepared too! Hehe! The food our vice leader makes is the absolute best!!

He… told me this isn’t the time to throw a party, but… don’t you think there should be a little fun in this, too?

RIGHT?! I have a really good feeling about you coming to our dorm! Don’t even worry. I am an excellent judge of character.

Vil Schoenheit

This is Pomefiore, the house founded on the heavy efforts of the Beautiful Queen. We’re the fairest dormitory at this academy, as well as the most historic. I’m the dorm leader, Vil Schoenheit.

Are you our new student? Hm~? Well, let’s see if you’re eligible for now. Although… This still isn’t good enough.

Do you think the color of that top really suits you? Do your hair and skin always look perfect? Do you keep your nails nicely polished? Right now, I spare no effort in making sure that I am the most beautiful. And since you’re a student here too, I’ll make sure you’re working to improve your own self too.

Pomefiore has no room for lazy people. If you ever try to go behind my back and even think about slacking off… You’ll experience something that will make your breath still and your blood congeal. Please prepare yourself.

Idia Shroud

I-I’m Idia… Idia Shroud. Hello. I-I’m the dorm leader for Ignihyde, the house founded on the… diligence of the… Lord of the Dead. Anyway…

Y-You… really are unlucky to have been chosen for this dorm. Welcome to a school life that’s nothing but dark and gloomy; I’m so sorry for you—it really almost feels like you’ve been abandoned by the Goddess of Fate herself, doesn’t it!

T-There’s a lot more accurate information you can find on the internet about our dorm than you can get from me; you can look those things up yourself.

…Do you still need something? You really are persistent. Unlike you new students, I have a really busy schedule.

If you want to get by peacefully at this academy, my advice to you would be to not stand out. The people here are nothing but bad news.

Malleus Draconia

Oh? There’s quite a clamor over here.

What? An admission experience? Hm? That’s what all these festivities are? In that case, are you one of the humans who were invited here?

Then I will introduce myself to you, who is nothing more than a baby. I am Malleus Draconia. The dorm leader of the house founded in the noble spirit of the Fairy of Thorns, Diasomnia. And… I’m a descendant of the king who reigns over all dwellers of the night.

What’s the matter? Don’t look so frightened. I’m not going to suddenly transform into a giant dragon and set you on fire or anything like that.

I would love to chat with you a little while longer, but I’m afraid we must part for today. I was not invited to this glittering assemblage, you see.

I apologize for barging in uninvited. …Tell that to the Headmaster for me.

Of course I’m not angry. I’m not.

There are several Disney easter eggs hidden in these dialogues. I reworded some of them to better match the version spoken in the English versions of the movies.

Below I gathered the official lines for both the EN and JP dubs if you’d like to compare! If text from the JP dub was different enough to point out, I translated that in italics.

Alice in Wonderland

The Queen of Hearts’ dialogue:

Look up, speak nicely, and don’t twiddle your fingers! Turn out your toes. Curtsy. Open your mouth a little wider. もっと丁寧に。指を動かしてはいけないよ！左足を引いて、敬礼！口をもっとおおーきく開いて、こういうんだよ。

The Lion King

Scar’s dialogues:

Yes, well, forgive me for not leaping for joy. そうか、飛び上がって喜べなくて悪いな。

You wouldn’t want to end up in another mess like you did with the hyenas. この間のようにハイエナに襲われたら大変だろう。

You shall never see the light of another day. お前は二度と、太陽を拝めぬ身の上。

The Little Mermaid

All of these cameos are lyrics from the song Poor Unfortunate Souls.

The miserable, lonely, and depressed 憂鬱で悩める人

On the whole, I’ve been a saint いい子には優しい (I’m kind to good children)

Someone couldn’t pay the price and I’m afraid I had to rake ‘em cross the coals お代もらえず、お仕置きするの　泣きながら

Aladdin

All of the animals Kalim lists were also mentioned in the song Prince Ali.

Additionally, one of Kalim’s lines reflects a dialogue spoken by the Sultan:

I am an excellent judge of character. わしの人を見る目は確かじゃ。

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs

The Evil Queen’s dialogue:

Her breath will still, her blood congeal. 息は止まって、血も凍りつく。

Hercules

“A little dark, a little gloomy” is how Hades sardonically describes the Underworld.

“The Goddess of Fate” refers to the Fates, who are called the “Three Goddesses of Fate” in JP

Sleeping Beauty

“Glittering assemblage” is the phrase Maleficent uses to describe Aurora’s birthday celebration

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angeliise · 4 years

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Day 3: I’d Choose You Again and Again

If somebody asked you to choose between me and someone else right now, would you choose me?

And would you choose me again, if they asked you 10 years from now?

Hinata looked up from the soggy ground. Hinata found herself sitting on the swings by the academy as the rain poured down on her every being. People would think she is crazy to be out in this rain in only a mesh shirt but… she didn’t have anything else to cover herself with.

Why?

She had been disowned by her father. She was deemed too weak to be the true successor to the Hyuga Clan. Her father had chosen her sister instead. Just when she thought her sensei had personally chosen her as a student, she found out that it was on the order of her father.

Her sensei had greeted herself as Kurenai and left shortly after, no question asked. Sigh. She was referred to the Hokage to find a new home and was given an apartment, which she had just moved into. She hadn’t met any of her neighbors but even if she did, nobody would pay her any mind.

The former heiress stood up and walked back to her apartment. When she was in front of the door, she lifted her head slightly when the door opened. She looked up to find obsidian eyes staring down at her, holding an umbrella.

“Why are you always wearing so little when it’s raining this much?” He asked. His tone was stern and monotonous, yet Hinata felt an ounce of care from his expression.

“Always?...” Hinata said in a low tone.

“The whole of last week, and now today.”

Hinata felt her eyes water again. This mysterious man had noticed her and been watching her since last week? The week she had moved into her new home. Hinata was again taken aback by his action when he tilted his umbrella so that it shielded her from the rain. Her bangs were completely soaked and plastered on her forehead, blocking most of her view. But one thing she would never forget were those obsidian eyes staring into her soul with the most care she had ever received from someone.

****

Hinata and Sasuke were walking alongside the pavement. It was the day they were going to be assigned into their teams. It was also the day she was going to do something she never thought she would have the courage to do. Though she knew she was with Kurenai, she didn’t know of the other members. She looked over at Sasuke for a split second. She hoped that she was going to be in the same team as him no matter what. Her and Sasuke had spent a lot of time together as neighbors.

She remembered when she was only eating ramen because she never learned how to cook in her previous household. When she fell over on her way from hunger, Sasuke had caught her and invited her to dinner. Although he berated her for not being able to cook he never complained about her crashing over for every supper.

During those times both Hinata and Sasuke had come to learn a lot about each other From their hobbies to their favorite foods to their birthdays and most importantly, their families. They bonded over their strict fathers and the unattainable goal of becoming like their siblings. Although that was it, it was enough.

It was enough for Sasuke because he had finally found someone that knew what it felt like to be inadequate. Although there was Naruto, Sasuke at least knew what it felt like to have a family. A mother. A father. A sibling. So did Hinata, which made for loads of inside jokes and lighthearted jabs at their clan’s persistence of upholding their images. As time went they became each other’s sparring partners and Sasuke was proud to have witnessed Hinata going from a reluctant fighter to becoming a competent opponent for him. But most importantly, she was slowly emerging from the depressive shell she was once in. He was glad about it for he did not want her to descend down the path he had when his clan was massacred.

Naruto’s voice sirened through their eardrums from afar. He was walking with Sakura, who was trying to hide her giggles. Though Sasuke knew that it was because Naruto was saying his name for every other word.

“Since when did-”

“Baka. Sakura would never fall for a guy like that.”

“Really?” It was in that moment she was proven right as Sakura looked away from Naruto and onto them. She shoved Naruto to the ground and enthusiastically waved over to them, more specifically Sasuke.

“Sasuke-kun!”

Sasuke sighed and looked away from the circus as Naruto called him out and was beaten by Sakura again. He looked at Hinata and smirked to himself while she still had her eyes on Naruto and Sakura.

Had he not met Hinata, Sasuke thought, then he would still be spiraling down the void of darkness that had consumed his mind ever since then. Her calm, gentle and kind aura had warmed him. He recounted the time she had invited him for dinner for once and was welcomed to a burning kitchen with Hinata desperately trying to put the fire out with a paper towel. Ever since then he knew…

He couldn’t trust her to be on her own.

He would make daily visits to make sure that she had not or was about to catch herself in fire or wring herself in her laundry and suffocate. He had taken it upon himself to teach her all the basic skills. It was those moments that helped him in opening up to her about himself and especially his past. Something he thought he would never feel comfortable talking about. The voice of Hinata brought him out of his thoughts.

“Huh? What did you say?”

Hinata embarrassingly looked away from his stare. Sasuke had gotten used to Hianta getting flustered out of nowhere. “I-I hope we get to be in the s-same team.”

Sasuke smiled at her and nodded in agreement. “Yeah.”

****

Hinata eyed the floor, trying to muster the tears in as Sasuke’s fangirls roared at the Iruka. She was sitting next to Sasuke and felt a twinge in her heart from not hearing her name in the same team as Sasuke. She twitched her head when she felt a nudge at her elbow. She looked over at Sasuke who had slipped her a note. She folded it open:

You still have something important to do, today.

She eyed him and he nodded at her with a tiny smile only for her. She smiled back at him.

****

The day was over and she was waiting by the swings. When she heard incoming footsteps she turned around and felt her heart rate increase. “N-Naruto-kun.”

“Oh, hey Hinata. So what did you want to tell me?”

Hinata fiddled with her fingers as she always did when she was nervous. She would never forget the times she would run into Naruto with Sasuke and how he would practically shove her in his face. He was always so supportive of her about her feelings for Naruto who he considered a doofus. Although she embarrassed herself every time, she had still gotten to speak with Naurto. She had gotten to know him pretty well and he with her. She had for the first time thought that she might have a chance. Especially when Naruto opened up about his feelings for Sakura and how she might not feel the same way and how he should give up. Hinata would have encouraged him to continue fighting but… Naruot deserved someone who loved him just as much.

“I-It’s j-j-just...” She stuttered. She could not find the right words and resorted to the question Sasuke had suggested her if she ever found herself in such a situation. She locked her eyes with Naruto with a determined look. “D-do you like someone?”

“Someone?”

“Yes, someone..” She said and watched as his face remained neutral as he thought it over.

The corners of Naruto’s mouth faced upwards into a huge smile. Hinata smiled back as he parted his mouth.

“Of course I do!” He started, making the butterflies in her stomach run amok. Was this happening? She might very well have a chance. Maybe. Maybe she- “It’s Sakura-chan!”

“Eh…”

“Don’t get me wrong but Sakura-chan is…” He was about to finish his sentence when two arms embraced him from behind. “S-Sakura-chan.”

“What are you doing over here? You promised to walk me home, didn’t you.” She giggled as she dragged him with her. She waved Hinata goodbye and the Hyuga watched them until they vanished from view.

The sun was setting and the rays of orange dawned on Hinata’s pale complexion. She had not moved from her spot ever since. And she couldn’t care to move herself. Just like always, someone else had been chosen over her. She really was hopeless, right? There was no way anybody would choose her over anything else? A person, a goal, an item. Everything else mattered but her! Ever-

“What are you doing sobbing over a doofus like that?”

Sasuke walked in front of her and wiped a single tear from her eyelash. He then cupped her face in his palms and wiped several tears that fought to slide down her cheek.

“Hinata.” He softly said.

Her silent whimpers turned into loud cries as her dry palms took over the tear cleansing. She just wanted to dry everything off. From her tears. To her cheeks. Her feelings. Her entire being!

“Hinata.”

“Sasuke-kun…!” She wailed. “If somebody asked you to choose between me and someone else right now, would you choose me?”

Sasuke smirked, making Hinata’s lips waver as she was scared that he would leave her too for how pathetic she was.

“What do you think?”

Hinata squirmed in defeat. Sasuke had his goal of killing his brother and restoring his clan. He wouldn’t have time for her as he got stronger. Sooner he would find a stronger partner to spar with. The sooner that happened, the sooner he would leave her. She didn’t want that. Sasuke had been her only source of happiness since she lost everything. Had it not been for him… who knows what she would have done with herself?

Hinata snapped out of her thoughts by the soft touch on her hand. It had been Sasuke who took both her hands into his and raised them up.

“Of course.” He said, looking into her eyes. “I would choose you.”

...

“Always.”

****

Those had been the last words of Sasuke Uchiha. Hinata unbound her hair and let it fall to her waist.

Yes. It had been 10 years since that time Sasuke told her that he would choose her over anybody else if he had the choice. She hadn’t heard anything from or of him since then for he disappeared without a trace. Naruto and Sakura have since then tried to bring him back. But everytime they returned, they came back empty handed.

Hinata sat by her antique and began combing her silky hair. Naruto and Sakura didn’t work out after all. She wasn’t particularly overjoyed. In fact, she didn’t care. For her heart had longed for someone else since they left.

She wondered whether Sasuke, in the time he has been gone, has found someone. Someone that he has chosen to restore his clan with. She sighed at the thought as it always brought a frown on her face. “Sasuke-kun…” she stared into her reflection. “Would you choose me again, if I asked you 10 years from now?”

Expecting no answer, Hinata lay the brush down. “You should already know the answer to that.”

Hinata gasped as she whirled in her seat to find him sitting on her window frame. His hair grew longer, his body more lean but that didn’t stop his abs from showing through his opened shirt. She couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down her face as she was standing before the man her heart had been waiting for and would continue to wait for until the day it stops beating. “S-Sasuke-kun.”

Sasuke leaned away from the window and made his way to Hinata, who in those 10 years, had become more beautiful than he ever thought was possible. When he stood right before her, he smiled at her.

“Hinata.” He said as he took her hands into his.

“Sasuke-kun…”

“I’d choose you again,” he leaned down to kiss her tender lips, “and again.”

@sasuhinamonth

#sasuhina #shmonth2020 #sasuhinamonth2020 #sasukexhinata #sasuke x hinata #day 3 #sasuke #hinata #hinata hyuga #sasukeuchiha

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fanficfeeling · 5 years

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Lovely Part 2 - Jaskier x Reader

A/N: Hey everyone! Wow! Part 1 received far more positive feedback than I thought it would! I'm super grateful to everyone who read part one, or left a comment, or was just very encouraging, you've really helped re-spark my love for writing <3 Boy, this took way too long to finish, but I just really wanted to make sure it held up the first part at least a little! I hope you enjoy this part as well, and I'm planning on writing at least one more part to this after this, so let me know if your interested in that/how much more of this story you're interested in seeing! Either way I'm planning on continuing to write for The Witcher, and on starting to post for other fandoms (of which I'll be posting a list soon!) so if you like my work please follow or just keep an eye out! Love you guys.

Summary: 3 times Jaskier has done his best to distract Y/N from the less enjoyable parts of her life.

Part 1

Warnings: Brief language warning.

Tagged: @failure-of-the-day (I might be assuming but I thought you might like to be tagged!) @ultracolorfulnerdcollection @blue-hoodies-for-life @athenaisalpha

Y/N found out rather quickly that spending time with Jaskier is a surefire way to bring a smile to her face. Her job can be depressing, Geralt is often silent at the most inopportune times, and travelling for such long distances can be boring, but Jaskier is none of those things, and often goes out of his way to grab her attention from that which brings down her mood.

For instance, moments like this one: Y/N has returned to this small town's inn after helping the townspeople for the day, feeling like the weight of the world is on her shoulders after the day she's had. Geralt hasn't returned from his monster slaying yet, so she seeks out Jaskier for company.

When she finds him in his room, he's laying on his bed, writing something down on a piece of paper haphazardly, using his propped-up knee as a work surface. As impractical as the position seems, he looks comfortable: laid back, his normal, fancier wear tossed aside for a simple white shirt and comfortable trousers, and a smile upon his face. It take Y/N all of a second to decide that the look does him great justice.

"Jaskier." Y/N starts, making him aware of her presence.

He looks up, briefly startled, but when his eyes come to rest on her, his smile widens, "Hello, Y/N."

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm back in for the evening."

"I'm glad! It was getting boring around here with no company. Please, come in, sit down." Y/N expects him to gesture to the chair against the wall in invitation, but he simply moves his feet and makes room on his bed for her. She means to be more proper about coming into his space, but as she approaches, she finds that she ends up throwing herself down onto the bed, her exhaustion weighing down her bones.

This seems to be the first time Jaskier notices her mood is off, "Hey, everything alright?"

Y/N looks at him sheepishly, "Just a long day is all. How was yours?"

Taking the hint that she wasn't up for talking about it, Jaskier indulges her, "I started writing a new song today, and I have to admit, it's taken up pretty much all of my time. It's-"

It's all Y/N can do to stay focused on his words for that long, as images of ill people, broken homes, and crying children fill her mind. This town is lucky to have an inn still standing, considering all the havoc beasts nearby have caused. Why must monsters even have to exist like this at all? Why must innocent people suffer for mindless, bloodthirsty crazes? Why does Y/N dedicate herself to cleaning up messes that aren't even hers?

"Y/N?" She looks up at Jaskier at the sound of his persistent voice, and it isn't until she attempts to speak that she realizes she's begun crying. She also finds that she can't find anything to say to him to make an excuse for her state.

He doesn't question any further though, and swiftly gives her a soft smile, before setting aside his papers and opening his arms, beckoning her towards him.

She doesn't even think about it as she crawls towards him and re-positions herself so that he can envelop her in a hug, as she lays her head against his chest. Just being there quickly quiets the tears, but Jaskier doesn't let go, and for that Y/N is grateful.

They sit in silence as Y/N calms herself, and eventually Jaskier leans down a little bit to kiss her forehead and whisper, "Whatever you've been through, please just remember that I'm here for you and that your soul is good, and deserves to be returned the help and goodness that you give."

Oh yeah, that's why she does it all. However hard it can be, it's the good she does that keeps her moving.

~~~

The next time Jaskier goes out of his way to lift Y/N's mood, Y/N and Geralt are sitting at a table in another tavern, completely silent. Normally Y/N has no issues with respecting their silence, she often enjoys it, but her work involved a lot of repairs today, and she barely had any human connection at all throughout the day. She fidgets, doing her best not to disturb Geralt as he seems to contemplate something—she knows he has his own demons swimming around in his mind—but she worries that if she doesn't do something stimulating soon, she very well might burst.

Jaskier descends from the rooms above the tavern space, looking to begin his own work for the night as an entertainer. He had gotten permission from the owner of this establishment earlier in the day to perform in the space, and as it got on into the evening, he knew that now was his prime time. He had cleaned himself up, decided on his song list, and was ready to go.

As he looked around the tavern sizing up his audience, his eyes came to rest upon his travelling companions. Geralt seems lost in thought, and Y/N... Y/N seems downright bored. Knowing that she's been having a rough go of it lately with her work, Jaskier quickly decides that he cannot let this stand.

He swiftly changes his course and makes his way towards their table, a plan only half formed in his mind, and when he stops in front of them he finds himself asking, "Y/N, could I ask a favor of you?"

She looks at him, curiosity in her eyes and a soft smile on her mouth—a goddess in the flesh, he thinks—and he continues, "I have some songs that I was planning on playing tonight, and I would like to see how they fare as duets. Would you join me?"

Jaskier doesn't know by what miracle she says yes, and neither does she, really, but soon the two fall into a groove that brings the attention, and coin, of the patrons. They stumble through the first few songs, rousing some laughs from their audience, until they get to "Toss A Coin To Your Witcher", and the audience joins in singing with them. The pair puts on a show as they sing and they dance, and the audience adores it.

After a rendition (or several) of Jaskier's hit song, many of their audience members start to fall away, so the bard takes that as a hint to start slowing things down.

"Y/N, how would you feel about rounding this performance off by performing "Her Sweet Kiss" with me?"

Y/N's heart skips a beat. She's heard the way he sings that song, and the emotion he puts into it is always enough to bring her near to tears.

"I would be honored."

He starts the beginning off himself, and cues her when to come in. "So tell me love, tell me love, how is that just?" Jaskier never breaks eye contact with Y/N as they sing, and she utters no complaints as it feels like he bears his soul to her while gazing deeply into hers.

"I'm weak, my love, and I am wanting. If this is the path I must trudge, I'll welcome my sentence, give to you my penance, garroter, jury, and judge."

When Y/N had wished for human interaction, this was not what she had expected, but fuck her if it wasn't far better.

As the song comes to a close, Y/N still can't find it in her to look away from his eyes, but luckily for her, it seems that neither can he. The applause of the crowd goes unnoticed by both until the moment passes on its own.

"Thank you, for doing this with me, Y/N."

"Thank you for asking, Jaskier."

~~~

While traveling is, of course, a luxury, just the act of getting somewhere new isn't always the most enjoyable of activities. Travelling may be an integral part of Y/N's job, but knowing that is rarely enough to make her feel better about her soreness from riding her horse, or the boredom she feels as they slowly move along on empty side roads, past endless fields. Yet, this is ultimately a part of her job, so she grins and bears it for the satisfaction of helping people and the coin it brings.

Jaskier, in all his many observations of this captivating do-gooder, begins to notice that she rarely has a good time between locations. He notices that she has no way to occupy herself, besides just listening to him ramble, and he notices that she doesn't seem to plan on doing anything to remedy that situation. So, he resolves to do so himself.

"Y/N," He begins as he sits on her horse behind her, one arm wrapped around her waist. "How would you like to play a game?"

"A game? Why?"

"Because I'm terribly bored and would like to hear your lovely voice. Are you in?"

"Oh, uh, I suppose I am, yes."

"Okay then. I spy, with my little eye-" Her laughter that follows is enough to make Jaskier's heart light. Making her laugh always makes him just a little bit happier.

He hears Geralt groan next to them on Roach, and watches in amusement as he begins to trot further up ahead of them.

"What a grumpy, grumpy man. Alright, hush now, or you'll miss the object. Anyways, I spy, with my little eye, something very long and brown."

"Oh, oh, is it the tree trunks?"

"Very close but not quite. Something dusty."

"The road!"

"Ding ding ding! You've got it!" She laughs once more at his enthusiasm.

"My turn then! I spy, with my little eye, something... big and blue."

Jaskier pretends to think for a moment, and then feigns surprise as he exclaims, "The sky!"

He thinks her joyful laughter is stopping his heart by now, but he's certain he might fall off the horse when she says, "I could preserve this round for a little longer and say 'It was actually your eyes', but that might be a little obvious, huh?"

He rests his head on her shoulder and attempts to look at her face. "That gives me an idea. I spy, with my little eye, something lovely."

A blush breaks out across her face immediately, but she tries not to make assumptions. "Oh, uh... those flowers on the side of the road?"

"Not quite. A bit closer to me." She swears she can feel his arms tighten around her just a fraction.

"Then... is it the horse? You two seem to get along quite well." He chuckle is deep, and she can feel the motion against her back.

"I do love Cinnamon dearly, but you're still a bit off. Try again."

Y/N's breath hitches in her throat, and she glances to the side to look at him, finding him closer than she expected. "Lovely? Is it, uh... me, then?" His smile is enough to make her think her heart will soon burst out of her chest.

"Very good. You're excellent at this. Fancy another round?"

It takes her several minutes to calm down, but she gets into their game again, and sure enough, before either of them even know it, they've reached their destination. They both find themselves a little sad when they have to let go and get off of Cinnamon, but the feeling of being so close doesn't leave either of them for hours.

Yes, Y/N reflects, everything really does get better with him around.

Yeah, Jaskier thinks, I wouldn't trade a second with her for anything.

#Jaskier x reader #Jaskier #jaskier fanfiction #The witcher #part 2 #series #Lovely #mine #Geralt of Rivia #geralt #fluff #cute #fanfic #reader x jaskier

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