#Like breathing exercises and most grounding exercises are extremely triggering :)

[cleverhottubmiracle]

Both tangible and intangible experiences shape us, but the intangible ones are often overlooked. When behavioral patterns shift or emotional struggles arise, tracing them back to past trauma can be difficult. Trauma isn’t just an emotional imprint—it’s also stored in the body, tied to something akin to muscle memory. When unresolved, it can manifest as chronic tension, stress, and even physical symptoms. However, as healing unfolds, the body gradually releases this stored trauma, sometimes in unexpected and even uncomfortable ways. Recognizing the signs that your body is releasing trauma is an essential step toward emotional healing. While these signs may feel unfamiliar or even unsettling, they indicate that you are finally breaking free from a stronghold that has influenced your actions for far too long. The process isn’t always comfortable, but it is ultimately transformative. The key is to allow the release to unfold naturally rather than resisting it. Having awareness of what to expect can bring a sense of calm, as knowledge fosters reassurance along the healing journey. Check out possible signs that your body is releasing trauma… #1. Unmanageable trembling Photo: Ron Lach/Pexels One of the most common physical signs of trauma release is spontaneous shaking or trembling. This involuntary response is the body’s way of discharging built-up tension and resetting the nervous system. Just as animals instinctively shake after a stressful encounter to release excess energy, humans experience a similar mechanism when stored trauma begins to unravel. Instead of resisting this natural process, embracing it can promote deeper healing and emotional release. #2. Bouts of tears Photo: Alena Darmel/Pexels Emotional trauma is often buried deep within, but when the body begins to release it, emotions can rise to the surface unexpectedly. Sudden crying spells—sometimes without an obvious trigger—signal that long-suppressed feelings are finally being processed. Waves of grief, sadness, or even relief may emerge as the body lets go of stored pain. While this emotional catharsis can feel overwhelming, it is a vital step toward healing and reclaiming emotional balance. #3. Unpredictable breaths Photo: Mikhail Nilov/Pexels Breath is intimately tied to the nervous system, and trauma often disrupts its natural rhythm. As the body begins to release stored trauma, shifts in breathing patterns may occur—deep sighs, spontaneous yawning, or even moments of breathlessness. These changes indicate that the nervous system is recalibrating, working to restore balance. Embracing conscious breathing exercises during this process can enhance relaxation, promote grounding, and support a smoother transition toward healing. #4. Tensed muscles Photo: Cottonbro Studio/Pexels Trauma often takes up residence in the muscles, manifesting as chronic tightness or pain. As the body starts to release stored trauma, muscle twitches, cramps, or even a sensation of tension melting away may occur. These physical shifts signal that the body is letting go of old stress patterns and reclaiming its natural flexibility. Incorporating gentle movement practices like yoga, stretching, or massage can further support this release. #5. Extreme nightmares Photo: Mariana Montrazi/Pexels The subconscious mind plays a crucial role in processing trauma, often bringing unresolved emotions to the surface through vivid dreams or nightmares. These dreams may revisit past experiences, highlight lingering conflicts, or present symbolic representations of healing. While they can sometimes feel unsettling, they are a sign that the mind is actively working through deep-seated emotions. Keeping a dream journal and exploring recurring themes with a therapist can provide valuable insights and support the healing journey. #6. Stomach troubles Photo: Andrea Piacquadio/Pexels The gut, often called the “second brain,” is deeply connected to emotional well-being, and trauma can have a profound impact on digestion. As the body releases stored trauma, individuals may notice temporary digestive changes such as nausea, bloating, diarrhea, or a loss of appetite. These shifts occur because the nervous system is transitioning from a prolonged state of stress to a more relaxed state. Supporting the body with nourishing foods, gentle movement, and adequate hydration can help ease this adjustment. #7. High-low energy Photo: Keenan Constance/Pexels Healing from trauma is rarely a straightforward journey, and energy levels can fluctuate unpredictably. Some individuals may experience sudden bursts of vitality and motivation, while others might feel intense fatigue as the body works through deep-seated emotions. This exhaustion is a natural part of the healing process, signaling that the body is using energy to repair and restore itself. Prioritizing rest, practicing self-care, and incorporating gentle movement or meditation can help maintain balance. #8. Skin allergies Photo: Cottonbro Studio/Pexels As the body releases trauma, some individuals may notice temporary skin reactions such as rashes, acne, or itching. These symptoms often indicate that the body is detoxifying from stored stress hormones and inflammatory responses. While these reactions can be uncomfortable, they are typically short-lived and signal a deeper healing process. Staying hydrated, consuming anti-inflammatory foods, and practicing gentle skincare can help support the body through this transition. #9. POV fluctuations Photo: Mohammed Ben Yekhlef/Pexels Emotional trauma shapes our perceptions, and its release can lead to profound mental and emotional shifts. Individuals may experience newfound clarity, optimism, or a greater sense of emotional openness. Long-held fears and limiting beliefs may begin to dissolve, creating space for a more empowered mindset. Engaging in therapy, journaling, and self-reflection can help process and integrate these transformative changes. #10. A sense of lightness Photo: Creative Vix/Pexels One of the most profound signs that your body is releasing trauma is a heightened sense of presence and lightness. As emotional burdens lift, individuals may feel more grounded, connected, and at ease in their surroundings. The weight of past experiences no longer dictates their emotions, making space for renewed energy, clarity, and hope. This transformation is a powerful testament to the body’s innate ability to heal and restore balance. Check out how to improve the healing journey Photo: Daniel Xavier/Pexels Releasing trauma is a deeply personal journey, and prioritizing self-care can make the process smoother and more supportive. Here are some ways to nurture healing: Seek professional support: Working with trauma-informed therapists can provide guidance, validation, and emotional safety. Engage in body-based healing: Practices like yoga, breathwork, and somatic therapies help release stored trauma and restore balance. Cultivate mindfulness: Meditation and deep breathing exercises can regulate emotions and foster inner calm. Express through creativity: Music, art, and writing serve as powerful outlets for emotional release and self-discovery. Move your body: Dancing, stretching, or exercising can facilitate trauma processing and improve overall well-being. Lean on community: Connecting with understanding friends or support groups offers encouragement, empathy, and reassurance. Every healing journey is unique, so listening to your body and honoring what feels right is key. In conclusion The body’s ability to release trauma is a powerful reminder of its resilience and innate capacity for healing. Though the process may feel uncomfortable or even overwhelming at times, it is a vital step toward emotional freedom and overall well-being. By recognizing the signs of trauma release and embracing supportive practices, individuals can move through their healing journey with greater awareness and self-compassion. Ultimately, releasing trauma isn’t about erasing the past—it’s about reclaiming the present and stepping into a future filled with possibility, peace, and renewed strength. Featured image: Maria Voronovich/iStock Medical Disclaimer All content found on the StyleRave.com website, including text, images, audio, video, and other formats, is created for informational purposes only. The content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. If you think you may have a medical emergency, please call your doctor, go to the nearest hospital, or call 911 immediately, depending on your condition. For the latest in fashion, lifestyle, and culture, follow us on Instagram @StyleRave_ —Read also !function(f,b,e,v,n,t,s) if(f.fbq)return;n=f.fbq=function()n.callMethod? n.callMethod.apply(n,arguments):n.queue.push(arguments); if(!f._fbq)f._fbq=n;n.push=n;n.loaded=!0;n.version='2.0'; n.queue=[];t=b.createElement(e);t.async=!0; t.src=v;s=b.getElementsByTagName(e)[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(t,s)(window, document,'script', ' fbq('init', '496558104568102'); fbq('track', 'PageView'); !function(f,b,e,v,n,t,s)if(f.fbq)return;n=f.fbq=function()n.callMethod? n.callMethod.apply(n,arguments):n.queue.push(arguments);if(!f._fbq)f._fbq=n; n.push=n;n.loaded=!0;n.version='2.0';n.queue=[];t=b.createElement(e);t.async=!0; t.src=v;s=b.getElementsByTagName(e)[0];s.parentNode.insertBefore(t,s)(window, document,'script',' !function(f,b,e,v,n,t,s)if(f.fbq)return;n=f.fbq=function()n.callMethod? n.callMethod.apply(n,arguments):n.queue.push(arguments);if(!f._fbq)f._fbq=n; n.push=n;n.loaded=!0;n.version='2.0';n.queue=[];t=b.createElement(e);t.async=!0; t.src=v;s=b.getElementsByTagName(e)[0];s.parentNode.insertBefore(t,s)(window, document,'script',' fbq('init', '1453079628754066'); fbq('track', "PageView"); Source link

[norajworld]

Both tangible and intangible experiences shape us, but the intangible ones are often overlooked. When behavioral patterns shift or emotional struggles arise, tracing them back to past trauma can be difficult. Trauma isn’t just an emotional imprint—it’s also stored in the body, tied to something akin to muscle memory. When unresolved, it can manifest as chronic tension, stress, and even physical symptoms. However, as healing unfolds, the body gradually releases this stored trauma, sometimes in unexpected and even uncomfortable ways. Recognizing the signs that your body is releasing trauma is an essential step toward emotional healing. While these signs may feel unfamiliar or even unsettling, they indicate that you are finally breaking free from a stronghold that has influenced your actions for far too long. The process isn’t always comfortable, but it is ultimately transformative. The key is to allow the release to unfold naturally rather than resisting it. Having awareness of what to expect can bring a sense of calm, as knowledge fosters reassurance along the healing journey. Check out possible signs that your body is releasing trauma… #1. Unmanageable trembling Photo: Ron Lach/Pexels One of the most common physical signs of trauma release is spontaneous shaking or trembling. This involuntary response is the body’s way of discharging built-up tension and resetting the nervous system. Just as animals instinctively shake after a stressful encounter to release excess energy, humans experience a similar mechanism when stored trauma begins to unravel. Instead of resisting this natural process, embracing it can promote deeper healing and emotional release. #2. Bouts of tears Photo: Alena Darmel/Pexels Emotional trauma is often buried deep within, but when the body begins to release it, emotions can rise to the surface unexpectedly. Sudden crying spells—sometimes without an obvious trigger—signal that long-suppressed feelings are finally being processed. Waves of grief, sadness, or even relief may emerge as the body lets go of stored pain. While this emotional catharsis can feel overwhelming, it is a vital step toward healing and reclaiming emotional balance. #3. Unpredictable breaths Photo: Mikhail Nilov/Pexels Breath is intimately tied to the nervous system, and trauma often disrupts its natural rhythm. As the body begins to release stored trauma, shifts in breathing patterns may occur—deep sighs, spontaneous yawning, or even moments of breathlessness. These changes indicate that the nervous system is recalibrating, working to restore balance. Embracing conscious breathing exercises during this process can enhance relaxation, promote grounding, and support a smoother transition toward healing. #4. Tensed muscles Photo: Cottonbro Studio/Pexels Trauma often takes up residence in the muscles, manifesting as chronic tightness or pain. As the body starts to release stored trauma, muscle twitches, cramps, or even a sensation of tension melting away may occur. These physical shifts signal that the body is letting go of old stress patterns and reclaiming its natural flexibility. Incorporating gentle movement practices like yoga, stretching, or massage can further support this release. #5. Extreme nightmares Photo: Mariana Montrazi/Pexels The subconscious mind plays a crucial role in processing trauma, often bringing unresolved emotions to the surface through vivid dreams or nightmares. These dreams may revisit past experiences, highlight lingering conflicts, or present symbolic representations of healing. While they can sometimes feel unsettling, they are a sign that the mind is actively working through deep-seated emotions. Keeping a dream journal and exploring recurring themes with a therapist can provide valuable insights and support the healing journey. #6. Stomach troubles Photo: Andrea Piacquadio/Pexels The gut, often called the “second brain,” is deeply connected to emotional well-being, and trauma can have a profound impact on digestion. As the body releases stored trauma, individuals may notice temporary digestive changes such as nausea, bloating, diarrhea, or a loss of appetite. These shifts occur because the nervous system is transitioning from a prolonged state of stress to a more relaxed state. Supporting the body with nourishing foods, gentle movement, and adequate hydration can help ease this adjustment. #7. High-low energy Photo: Keenan Constance/Pexels Healing from trauma is rarely a straightforward journey, and energy levels can fluctuate unpredictably. Some individuals may experience sudden bursts of vitality and motivation, while others might feel intense fatigue as the body works through deep-seated emotions. This exhaustion is a natural part of the healing process, signaling that the body is using energy to repair and restore itself. Prioritizing rest, practicing self-care, and incorporating gentle movement or meditation can help maintain balance. #8. Skin allergies Photo: Cottonbro Studio/Pexels As the body releases trauma, some individuals may notice temporary skin reactions such as rashes, acne, or itching. These symptoms often indicate that the body is detoxifying from stored stress hormones and inflammatory responses. While these reactions can be uncomfortable, they are typically short-lived and signal a deeper healing process. Staying hydrated, consuming anti-inflammatory foods, and practicing gentle skincare can help support the body through this transition. #9. POV fluctuations Photo: Mohammed Ben Yekhlef/Pexels Emotional trauma shapes our perceptions, and its release can lead to profound mental and emotional shifts. Individuals may experience newfound clarity, optimism, or a greater sense of emotional openness. Long-held fears and limiting beliefs may begin to dissolve, creating space for a more empowered mindset. Engaging in therapy, journaling, and self-reflection can help process and integrate these transformative changes. #10. A sense of lightness Photo: Creative Vix/Pexels One of the most profound signs that your body is releasing trauma is a heightened sense of presence and lightness. As emotional burdens lift, individuals may feel more grounded, connected, and at ease in their surroundings. The weight of past experiences no longer dictates their emotions, making space for renewed energy, clarity, and hope. This transformation is a powerful testament to the body’s innate ability to heal and restore balance. Check out how to improve the healing journey Photo: Daniel Xavier/Pexels Releasing trauma is a deeply personal journey, and prioritizing self-care can make the process smoother and more supportive. Here are some ways to nurture healing: Seek professional support: Working with trauma-informed therapists can provide guidance, validation, and emotional safety. Engage in body-based healing: Practices like yoga, breathwork, and somatic therapies help release stored trauma and restore balance. Cultivate mindfulness: Meditation and deep breathing exercises can regulate emotions and foster inner calm. Express through creativity: Music, art, and writing serve as powerful outlets for emotional release and self-discovery. Move your body: Dancing, stretching, or exercising can facilitate trauma processing and improve overall well-being. Lean on community: Connecting with understanding friends or support groups offers encouragement, empathy, and reassurance. Every healing journey is unique, so listening to your body and honoring what feels right is key. In conclusion The body’s ability to release trauma is a powerful reminder of its resilience and innate capacity for healing. Though the process may feel uncomfortable or even overwhelming at times, it is a vital step toward emotional freedom and overall well-being. By recognizing the signs of trauma release and embracing supportive practices, individuals can move through their healing journey with greater awareness and self-compassion. Ultimately, releasing trauma isn’t about erasing the past—it’s about reclaiming the present and stepping into a future filled with possibility, peace, and renewed strength. Featured image: Maria Voronovich/iStock Medical Disclaimer All content found on the StyleRave.com website, including text, images, audio, video, and other formats, is created for informational purposes only. The content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. If you think you may have a medical emergency, please call your doctor, go to the nearest hospital, or call 911 immediately, depending on your condition. For the latest in fashion, lifestyle, and culture, follow us on Instagram @StyleRave_ —Read also !function(f,b,e,v,n,t,s) if(f.fbq)return;n=f.fbq=function()n.callMethod? n.callMethod.apply(n,arguments):n.queue.push(arguments); if(!f._fbq)f._fbq=n;n.push=n;n.loaded=!0;n.version='2.0'; n.queue=[];t=b.createElement(e);t.async=!0; t.src=v;s=b.getElementsByTagName(e)[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(t,s)(window, document,'script', ' fbq('init', '496558104568102'); fbq('track', 'PageView'); !function(f,b,e,v,n,t,s)if(f.fbq)return;n=f.fbq=function()n.callMethod? n.callMethod.apply(n,arguments):n.queue.push(arguments);if(!f._fbq)f._fbq=n; n.push=n;n.loaded=!0;n.version='2.0';n.queue=[];t=b.createElement(e);t.async=!0; t.src=v;s=b.getElementsByTagName(e)[0];s.parentNode.insertBefore(t,s)(window, document,'script',' !function(f,b,e,v,n,t,s)if(f.fbq)return;n=f.fbq=function()n.callMethod? n.callMethod.apply(n,arguments):n.queue.push(arguments);if(!f._fbq)f._fbq=n; n.push=n;n.loaded=!0;n.version='2.0';n.queue=[];t=b.createElement(e);t.async=!0; t.src=v;s=b.getElementsByTagName(e)[0];s.parentNode.insertBefore(t,s)(window, document,'script',' fbq('init', '1453079628754066'); fbq('track', "PageView"); Source link

[chilimili212]

Both tangible and intangible experiences shape us, but the intangible ones are often overlooked. When behavioral patterns shift or emotional struggles arise, tracing them back to past trauma can be difficult. Trauma isn’t just an emotional imprint—it’s also stored in the body, tied to something akin to muscle memory. When unresolved, it can manifest as chronic tension, stress, and even physical symptoms. However, as healing unfolds, the body gradually releases this stored trauma, sometimes in unexpected and even uncomfortable ways. Recognizing the signs that your body is releasing trauma is an essential step toward emotional healing. While these signs may feel unfamiliar or even unsettling, they indicate that you are finally breaking free from a stronghold that has influenced your actions for far too long. The process isn’t always comfortable, but it is ultimately transformative. The key is to allow the release to unfold naturally rather than resisting it. Having awareness of what to expect can bring a sense of calm, as knowledge fosters reassurance along the healing journey. Check out possible signs that your body is releasing trauma… #1. Unmanageable trembling Photo: Ron Lach/Pexels One of the most common physical signs of trauma release is spontaneous shaking or trembling. This involuntary response is the body’s way of discharging built-up tension and resetting the nervous system. Just as animals instinctively shake after a stressful encounter to release excess energy, humans experience a similar mechanism when stored trauma begins to unravel. Instead of resisting this natural process, embracing it can promote deeper healing and emotional release. #2. Bouts of tears Photo: Alena Darmel/Pexels Emotional trauma is often buried deep within, but when the body begins to release it, emotions can rise to the surface unexpectedly. Sudden crying spells—sometimes without an obvious trigger—signal that long-suppressed feelings are finally being processed. Waves of grief, sadness, or even relief may emerge as the body lets go of stored pain. While this emotional catharsis can feel overwhelming, it is a vital step toward healing and reclaiming emotional balance. #3. Unpredictable breaths Photo: Mikhail Nilov/Pexels Breath is intimately tied to the nervous system, and trauma often disrupts its natural rhythm. As the body begins to release stored trauma, shifts in breathing patterns may occur—deep sighs, spontaneous yawning, or even moments of breathlessness. These changes indicate that the nervous system is recalibrating, working to restore balance. Embracing conscious breathing exercises during this process can enhance relaxation, promote grounding, and support a smoother transition toward healing. #4. Tensed muscles Photo: Cottonbro Studio/Pexels Trauma often takes up residence in the muscles, manifesting as chronic tightness or pain. As the body starts to release stored trauma, muscle twitches, cramps, or even a sensation of tension melting away may occur. These physical shifts signal that the body is letting go of old stress patterns and reclaiming its natural flexibility. Incorporating gentle movement practices like yoga, stretching, or massage can further support this release. #5. Extreme nightmares Photo: Mariana Montrazi/Pexels The subconscious mind plays a crucial role in processing trauma, often bringing unresolved emotions to the surface through vivid dreams or nightmares. These dreams may revisit past experiences, highlight lingering conflicts, or present symbolic representations of healing. While they can sometimes feel unsettling, they are a sign that the mind is actively working through deep-seated emotions. Keeping a dream journal and exploring recurring themes with a therapist can provide valuable insights and support the healing journey. #6. Stomach troubles Photo: Andrea Piacquadio/Pexels The gut, often called the “second brain,” is deeply connected to emotional well-being, and trauma can have a profound impact on digestion. As the body releases stored trauma, individuals may notice temporary digestive changes such as nausea, bloating, diarrhea, or a loss of appetite. These shifts occur because the nervous system is transitioning from a prolonged state of stress to a more relaxed state. Supporting the body with nourishing foods, gentle movement, and adequate hydration can help ease this adjustment. #7. High-low energy Photo: Keenan Constance/Pexels Healing from trauma is rarely a straightforward journey, and energy levels can fluctuate unpredictably. Some individuals may experience sudden bursts of vitality and motivation, while others might feel intense fatigue as the body works through deep-seated emotions. This exhaustion is a natural part of the healing process, signaling that the body is using energy to repair and restore itself. Prioritizing rest, practicing self-care, and incorporating gentle movement or meditation can help maintain balance. #8. Skin allergies Photo: Cottonbro Studio/Pexels As the body releases trauma, some individuals may notice temporary skin reactions such as rashes, acne, or itching. These symptoms often indicate that the body is detoxifying from stored stress hormones and inflammatory responses. While these reactions can be uncomfortable, they are typically short-lived and signal a deeper healing process. Staying hydrated, consuming anti-inflammatory foods, and practicing gentle skincare can help support the body through this transition. #9. POV fluctuations Photo: Mohammed Ben Yekhlef/Pexels Emotional trauma shapes our perceptions, and its release can lead to profound mental and emotional shifts. Individuals may experience newfound clarity, optimism, or a greater sense of emotional openness. Long-held fears and limiting beliefs may begin to dissolve, creating space for a more empowered mindset. Engaging in therapy, journaling, and self-reflection can help process and integrate these transformative changes. #10. A sense of lightness Photo: Creative Vix/Pexels One of the most profound signs that your body is releasing trauma is a heightened sense of presence and lightness. As emotional burdens lift, individuals may feel more grounded, connected, and at ease in their surroundings. The weight of past experiences no longer dictates their emotions, making space for renewed energy, clarity, and hope. This transformation is a powerful testament to the body’s innate ability to heal and restore balance. Check out how to improve the healing journey Photo: Daniel Xavier/Pexels Releasing trauma is a deeply personal journey, and prioritizing self-care can make the process smoother and more supportive. Here are some ways to nurture healing: Seek professional support: Working with trauma-informed therapists can provide guidance, validation, and emotional safety. Engage in body-based healing: Practices like yoga, breathwork, and somatic therapies help release stored trauma and restore balance. Cultivate mindfulness: Meditation and deep breathing exercises can regulate emotions and foster inner calm. Express through creativity: Music, art, and writing serve as powerful outlets for emotional release and self-discovery. Move your body: Dancing, stretching, or exercising can facilitate trauma processing and improve overall well-being. Lean on community: Connecting with understanding friends or support groups offers encouragement, empathy, and reassurance. Every healing journey is unique, so listening to your body and honoring what feels right is key. In conclusion The body’s ability to release trauma is a powerful reminder of its resilience and innate capacity for healing. Though the process may feel uncomfortable or even overwhelming at times, it is a vital step toward emotional freedom and overall well-being. By recognizing the signs of trauma release and embracing supportive practices, individuals can move through their healing journey with greater awareness and self-compassion. Ultimately, releasing trauma isn’t about erasing the past—it’s about reclaiming the present and stepping into a future filled with possibility, peace, and renewed strength. Featured image: Maria Voronovich/iStock Medical Disclaimer All content found on the StyleRave.com website, including text, images, audio, video, and other formats, is created for informational purposes only. The content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. If you think you may have a medical emergency, please call your doctor, go to the nearest hospital, or call 911 immediately, depending on your condition. For the latest in fashion, lifestyle, and culture, follow us on Instagram @StyleRave_ —Read also !function(f,b,e,v,n,t,s) if(f.fbq)return;n=f.fbq=function()n.callMethod? n.callMethod.apply(n,arguments):n.queue.push(arguments); if(!f._fbq)f._fbq=n;n.push=n;n.loaded=!0;n.version='2.0'; n.queue=[];t=b.createElement(e);t.async=!0; t.src=v;s=b.getElementsByTagName(e)[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(t,s)(window, document,'script', ' fbq('init', '496558104568102'); fbq('track', 'PageView'); !function(f,b,e,v,n,t,s)if(f.fbq)return;n=f.fbq=function()n.callMethod? n.callMethod.apply(n,arguments):n.queue.push(arguments);if(!f._fbq)f._fbq=n; n.push=n;n.loaded=!0;n.version='2.0';n.queue=[];t=b.createElement(e);t.async=!0; t.src=v;s=b.getElementsByTagName(e)[0];s.parentNode.insertBefore(t,s)(window, document,'script',' !function(f,b,e,v,n,t,s)if(f.fbq)return;n=f.fbq=function()n.callMethod? n.callMethod.apply(n,arguments):n.queue.push(arguments);if(!f._fbq)f._fbq=n; n.push=n;n.loaded=!0;n.version='2.0';n.queue=[];t=b.createElement(e);t.async=!0; t.src=v;s=b.getElementsByTagName(e)[0];s.parentNode.insertBefore(t,s)(window, document,'script',' fbq('init', '1453079628754066'); fbq('track', "PageView"); Source link

[tulasirehabilitationcentre3]

How Bipolar Disorder Specialists Help Patients Build Emotional Resilience

Bipolar disorder is a complex mental health condition characterized by extreme mood swings, ranging from depressive lows to manic highs. These fluctuations can significantly affect a person’s daily life, relationships, and overall well-being. However, with the right support, patients can learn to manage their symptoms effectively and build emotional resilience. At Tulasi Healthcare, our experienced bipolar disorder specialists focus on empowering patients with the tools and strategies they need to navigate life’s challenges with strength and stability.

Understanding Emotional Resilience in Bipolar Disorder

Emotional resilience refers to an individual’s ability to adapt to stressful situations, manage their emotions effectively, and bounce back from difficult experiences. For those living with bipolar disorder, building emotional resilience is not just about coping with the highs and lows but also about maintaining a stable mindset in the face of triggers and stressors.

Bipolar disorder specialists play a vital role in helping patients develop this resilience through therapy, education, and personalized care plans.

Key Strategies Used by Bipolar Disorder Specialists to Build Emotional Resilience

1. Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT)

CBT is one of the most effective tools used by bipolar disorder specialists to build emotional resilience. Through CBT, patients learn to:

Identify and challenge negative thought patterns.

Develop healthier responses to stressful situations.

Recognize early warning signs of mood swings and take preventive action.

By addressing unhelpful thinking patterns, CBT equips patients with skills to manage emotional responses more effectively.

2. Psychoeducation

Understanding bipolar disorder is a crucial step in building resilience. Bipolar disorder specialists provide psychoeducation sessions to help patients:

Recognize their symptoms and mood triggers.

Understand the importance of sticking to treatment plans.

Build awareness about medication side effects and their role in stabilizing moods.

Education empowers patients to actively participate in their recovery journey and reduces feelings of helplessness.

3. Mindfulness and Stress Management Techniques

Practicing mindfulness helps patients stay grounded and focused, especially during emotional highs or lows. Techniques like deep breathing exercises, meditation, and yoga are commonly recommended by bipolar disorder specialists. These practices help reduce anxiety, increase self-awareness, and create emotional balance.

4. Medication Management

Medication often plays a critical role in managing bipolar disorder symptoms. Bipolar disorder specialists carefully prescribe and monitor medications like mood stabilizers and antipsychotics to prevent extreme mood swings. Proper medication management helps patients achieve emotional stability, making it easier to build resilience.

5. Developing Healthy Lifestyle Habits

A balanced lifestyle plays a crucial role in supporting mental health. Specialists emphasize:

Regular exercise to release endorphins and reduce stress.

A consistent sleep routine to maintain emotional stability.

A balanced diet to support overall well-being.

By integrating these habits into daily life, patients can strengthen their emotional foundation and reduce the impact of mood swings.

The Role of Family and Social Support

Building emotional resilience isn’t a solo journey—it requires a strong support system. Bipolar disorder specialists often involve family members in therapy sessions to create an environment of understanding and empathy. Support from loved ones can provide reassurance during challenging times and motivate patients to stay committed to their treatment plans.

Support groups are also valuable resources. Being part of a community where others share similar experiences fosters connection, reduces feelings of isolation, and enhances emotional resilience.

Why Emotional Resilience Matters in Bipolar Disorder

Emotional resilience is not about avoiding stress or emotional ups and downs—it’s about learning to handle them effectively. With resilience:

Patients can prevent mood swings from escalating into severe episodes.

Relationships with family, friends, and colleagues can improve.

Daily functioning and productivity become more manageable.

A sense of self-control and confidence is built over time.

The guidance of bipolar disorder specialists ensures that patients don’t just survive with bipolar disorder—they thrive despite it.

Why Choose Tulasi Healthcare for Bipolar Disorder Care?

At Tulasi Healthcare, our team of experienced bipolar disorder specialists is dedicated to providing compassionate, evidence-based care tailored to each patient’s unique needs. Our approach includes:

Personalized treatment plans.

Comprehensive therapy and counseling sessions.

Ongoing medication management and monitoring.

A supportive environment for healing and growth.

We believe that with the right tools and consistent support, anyone can build emotional resilience and lead a fulfilling life.

Take the First Step Toward Emotional Resilience Today

Living with bipolar disorder comes with its challenges, but emotional resilience can help individuals navigate those challenges with confidence and strength. With the expertise of bipolar disorder specialists at Tulasi Healthcare, patients gain the tools they need to face life’s ups and downs without losing control.

If you or someone you love is struggling with bipolar disorder, don’t wait. Reach out to Tulasi Healthcare today and let our experts guide you on the path to stability, resilience, and lasting wellness. Your journey to emotional strength begins here.

[drkarenhawk]

Dr. Karen Hawk’s Expertise in Managing Stress and Anxiety in Arizona

Stress and anxiety are among the most common mental health challenges in today’s fast-paced world. For residents of Arizona, these issues can stem from personal struggles, demanding careers, or even environmental factors such as extreme weather conditions. Left unchecked, stress and anxiety can significantly impact mental and physical health, relationships, and overall quality of life.

Dr Karen Hawk Psychologist Arizona, is a trusted expert in helping individuals manage and overcome stress and anxiety. Using evidence-based techniques like Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT), she provides her clients with tools to navigate life’s challenges with resilience and confidence.

Understanding Stress and Anxiety

Stress and anxiety, while related, are distinct experiences.

Stress is the body’s response to external pressures or demands. It can be short-term (acute) or long-term (chronic), often triggered by work deadlines, family responsibilities, or unexpected life events.

Anxiety is a persistent feeling of worry or fear, even when there’s no immediate threat. It often involves overthinking potential problems and may be accompanied by physical symptoms like a racing heart, sweating, or difficulty concentrating.

While occasional stress and anxiety are normal, chronic experiences can interfere with daily functioning and lead to mental health disorders such as generalized anxiety disorder, panic disorder, or social anxiety.

Dr. Karen Hawk’s Approach to Stress and Anxiety

Dr Karen Hawk Psychologist specializes in helping clients identify the root causes of their stress and anxiety and develop actionable strategies for relief. Her approach is grounded in Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT), a proven method for addressing negative thought patterns and behaviors.

Key Elements of Dr. Hawk’s Expertise

Thorough Assessment and DiagnosisDr. Hawk begins each client’s journey with a comprehensive evaluation. This process involves understanding the client’s life circumstances, triggers, and specific symptoms. By identifying the underlying causes of stress and anxiety, she creates a customized treatment plan tailored to each individual’s needs.

Challenging Negative Thought PatternsA hallmark of Dr. Hawk’s therapy is addressing cognitive distortions—unhelpful ways of thinking that exacerbate anxiety. For example, clients who catastrophize may view minor setbacks as catastrophic failures. Dr. Hawk teaches clients how to identify and reframe these thoughts, fostering a more balanced and positive outlook.

Building Healthy Coping MechanismsStress often triggers unproductive coping behaviors like avoidance, procrastination, or overeating. Dr. Hawk works with clients to replace these habits with healthier strategies, such as problem-solving techniques, time management skills, and relaxation exercises.

Mindfulness and Relaxation TechniquesTo combat the physical symptoms of stress and anxiety, Dr. Hawk incorporates mindfulness and relaxation practices into her sessions. Techniques such as deep breathing, progressive muscle relaxation, and guided imagery help clients calm their minds and bodies, improving their ability to handle stressful situations.

Goal-Oriented and Measurable ProgressDr. Hawk’s therapy sessions are structured and goal-oriented, ensuring clients see measurable improvements over time. By tracking progress, clients gain a sense of accomplishment and motivation to continue their journey toward mental wellness.

Stress and Anxiety Management: Real-Life Applications

Dr Karen Hawk Psychologist Arizona practical approach equips clients with skills they can apply in everyday situations.

Workplace Stress

Many of Dr. Hawk’s clients face high levels of workplace stress, stemming from demanding roles, tight deadlines, or difficult colleagues. Dr. Hawk helps clients develop strategies to manage their workload, set boundaries, and communicate effectively.

One client, David, shared his experience: "Dr. Hawk taught me how to prioritize my tasks and manage my time better. I’ve also learned how to address conflicts calmly. Now, I feel more in control and less overwhelmed at work."

Social Anxiety

Social anxiety can make even simple interactions feel daunting. Dr. Hawk helps clients build confidence by gradually exposing them to challenging social situations in a safe and supportive manner. Techniques like role-playing and cognitive restructuring empower clients to approach social interactions with ease.

Coping with Life Transitions

Major life changes, such as moving, marriage, or retirement, often trigger stress and anxiety. Dr. Hawk provides emotional support and practical guidance during these transitions, helping clients adapt and thrive in their new circumstances.

Why Choose Dr. Karen Hawk for Stress and Anxiety Management?

Experience and ExpertiseWith years of experience specializing in CBT, Dr. Hawk has helped countless Arizona residents regain control over their mental health. Her deep understanding of stress and anxiety makes her a trusted resource for individuals seeking effective, evidence-based care.

Personalized AttentionDr. Hawk’s tailored approach ensures every client receives care that resonates with their unique needs and goals. Her empathetic and nonjudgmental demeanor creates a safe space for open communication and genuine healing.

Flexibility and AccessibilityRecognizing the diverse needs of her clients, Dr. Hawk offers both in-person and virtual therapy sessions. This flexibility allows individuals across Arizona to access her expertise from the comfort of their own homes or at her practice.

Focus on Long-Term ResultsDr. Hawk’s goal is not just symptom relief but long-term resilience. By equipping clients with skills they can use independently, she empowers them to maintain mental wellness even after therapy concludes.

Testimonials

Dr. Hawk’s clients frequently share success stories about their transformative experiences:

“Dr. Hawk helped me understand the root of my anxiety and gave me tools to face my fears. I feel like I have my life back.” – Amanda P.

“I used to dread going to work every day. Thanks to Dr. Hawk, I’ve learned how to manage my stress and focus on what’s important. My productivity and confidence have improved immensely.” – John T.

How to Get Started

If you’re feeling overwhelmed by stress or anxiety, taking the first step toward therapy can be a powerful act of self-care. Dr Karen Hawk Psychologist is here to guide you on your journey to mental wellness.

Conclusion

Dr. Karen Hawk’s expertise in managing stress and anxiety has made her a vital resource for individuals across Arizona. Through her compassionate approach and evidence-based methods, she empowers clients to regain control of their lives and achieve lasting peace of mind.

Don’t let stress and anxiety hold you back. Reach out to Dr. Karen Hawk today and take the first step toward a healthier, happier you.

Visit more about Dr karen hawk psychologist Arizona https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/therapists/karen-hawk-gilbert-az/453511 https://www.linkedin.com/in/karenhawk https://drkarenhawk.us/ https://doctor.webmd.com/doctor/karen-hawk-ab8928eb-1f37-4ac2-9309-652a653f689e-overview https://medium.com/@ellasmithonline/why-talking-to-a-psychologist-like-dr-karen-hawk-can-help-a90203687b6b https://www.facebook.com/drkarenhawkpsychologist/ https://psychologist.drkarenhawk.us/ https://medium.com/@ellasmithonline/what-to-expect-in-a-session-with-dr-karen-hawk-arizona-psychologist-6049c226303d https://drkarenhawkpsychologistarizona.quora.com/Top-5-Reasons-to-Choose-Dr-Karen-Hawk-for-Psychological-Services-in-Arizona https://drkarenhawkpsychologistarizona.quora.com/ https://www.vitals.com/doctors/Karen_Liliane_Hawk.html https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/groups/survivors-of-infidelity-gilbert-az/166120 https://www.linkedin.com/pub/dir/Karen/Hawk/us-0-United-States https://www.doctor.com/Karen-Hawk-1 https://allcounseling.com/therapists/karen-hawk/ https://m.yelp.com/biz/karen-hawk-gilbert-2 https://www.reddit.com/user/karenhawkpsychologis/

[bindupthesebrokenbones]

It's Monday and that means it's time to go over some grounding techniques!

What is Grounding?

Grounding refers to techniques that are used to bring your focus to your present time and surroundings. These techniques are helpful for dealing with panic attacks, manic episodes, heightened anxiety, suicidal ideation, catastrophizing, and other cases of extreme thinking.

Grounding techniques often focus on a combination of breathing, sensory stimulation, and recognizing thought distortions. For today, I'm going to share a few breathing techniques and ideas for sensory stimulation. I'm planning to talk about thought distortion in it's own post at a later date.

Breathing Techniques

Breathing techniques help us ground ourselves because they encourage you to put all of your focus into one thing: breathing. The act of performing the exercise helps to reduce your heart rate and regulate your body's production of stress hormones like cortisol and adrenaline.

Box Breathing

This exercise is also called square breathing, and is commonly used for anxiety. It's a very simple technique: breathe in for 4 counts, hold your breath for 4 counts, exhale for 4 counts, and hold for 4 counts. Repeat this cycle for 5-10 minutes, or until you feel your chest loosen up.

4-7-8 Breathing

Another common anxiety exercise, the numbers refer to the counts of each stage of breathing. For this one, you inhale for 4 counts, hold your breath for 7 counts, and exhale for 8 counts. This technique not only forces you to regulate your breathing, but it also forces you to slow down, because you're exhaling more slowly than you inhaled, and you have to control the flow of air so that you don't empty your lungs too quickly.

Diaphragm Breathing

This technique is less about how long your breaths take, and more about the physical process of breathing itself. You can do this in any position, but I specifically learned to do it in a laying down position - this position is meant to make it easier to feel what's happening with your body, but if you can't lay on your back for physical health reasons, it's perfectly easy to do this sitting up or standing.

Place your hands on your abdomen, right around the bottom of your ribcage, and inhale deeply. Most of the time, when a person breathes, they only fill the upper portion of their lungs - you can see this when your chest rises and falls. The goal of diaphragm breathing is to breathe deeply enough to completely fill your lungs, and you should feel your abdomen expanding when you inhale. Then when you exhale, breathe all the way out to empty your lungs as much as you can before inhaling again.

Sensory Stimulation

It may seem a little odd to put sensory stimulation here, as I know well enough that many panic attacks come with being or feeling over stimulated. Bear with me.

These grounding techniques are what I like to call "purposeful sensory triggers". The idea behind them is that they should work even with overstimulation, as the exercise itself forces you to narrow your attention down. You deliberately trigger your senses in order to focus, basically.

5-4-3-2-1

This is a pretty common exercise that's been gaining ground (I even see it in fanfiction now which is wonderful!) over the last few years. You can choose to trigger your senses in any order, but you should always do the countdown from five to one. The order I recommend tends to be the easiest in my experience:

Name 5 things you can see

Name 4 things you can hear

Name 3 things you can touch

Name 2 things you can smell

Name 1 thing you can taste

The 3-3-3 Rule

This is similar to the previous exercise, but rather than counting down you find groups of three, and you focus only on sight, sound, and touch.

Name 3 things you can see

Name 3 things you can hear

Name 3 things you can touch

Points of Contact

This is something that my partner used to guide me through when the senses thing wasn't working out. This exercise is a combination of sensory and breathing exercise. I'll go over three different positions that you can do this technique in.

Standing up

While standing, place yourself so that you're facing a wall. Firmly press your hands to the wall, dig your feet into the floor, and touch your forehead to the wall. Focus as much of your attention as you can on these 5 points of contact and take deep, slow breaths. As you inhale, think about the texture or color of the wall and imagine drawing in good energy. As you exhale, think about what the floor feels like under your feet, and imagine pushing the bad energy out through them into the ground. Do this for five minutes.

Sitting Down

If you can't (or simply don't want to) stand, you can sit in a chair. Place both your feet flat on the ground and firmly grip the arms of the chair (or the seat if it has no arms) in your hands. Take deep, slow breaths. As you inhale, think about the way the chair feels under your fingers, and imagine pulling strength from the materials that made the chair. As you exhale, think about how the floor feels under your feet, and picture all of your troubles washing out through your feet and into the ground. Repeat the cycle for 5 minutes.

Laying Down

This exercise is less ideal for a laying position, but it can be modified if needed.

Lay in a position where you are able to breathe, and you can press both of your feet into a solid surface. If your bed is on the wall, use that, if you're able to lie on your back, you can use the mattress.

Put your hands on your abdomen and inhale. Feel the way that your body expands to make room for the air, and the life energy that it brings. Exhale, and imagine sending energy you no longer need (negative energy, bad thoughts, stress) out through your toes, down to where the bed/wall meets the floor, and out into the ground.

Conclusion

Grounding techniques are very useful and you should keep them in your self-care resource library for any time you might need them.

[queer-corvid]

Blog Blog Post "Understanding Stress And Anxiety: Causes, Signs, and also Effective Coping Techniques

"

Anxiety is an usual psychological wellness condition that impacts countless people worldwide. It can materialize in numerous types, from generalised anxiety disorder (GAD) to panic attack, social anxiety condition, and specific phobias. While it is typical to experience occasional concern or fear, anxiousness ends up being problematic when it starts to disrupt every day life. Comprehending the causes as well as signs and symptoms of stress and anxiety is critical in order to seek appropriate assistance as well as support.There are several variables that can add to the development of stress and anxiety disorders. Genes, brain chemistry, and also life experiences are several of the crucial elements that can boost a person's vulnerability to anxiousness. Distressing occasions, such as accidents or abuse, can trigger anxiety conditions, along with ongoing stress and anxiety from work, connections, or economic problems. Usual symptoms of stress and anxiety include extreme stressing, restlessness, irritability, difficulty focusing, rest disturbances, and also physical symptoms like quick heart beat, shortness of breath, and also sweating. Identifying these signs is necessary in looking for expert support as well as applying reliable coping strategies.While stress and anxiety problems can be incapacitating, there are different dealing methods that can assist individuals handle their stress and anxiety as well as enhance their general well-being. Seeking specialist help from therapists or therapists who concentrate on anxiety therapy is a critical first action. Cognitive-behavioral therapy(CBT)is just one of one of the most effective evidence-based therapies for stress and anxiety problems, as it aids people identify and customize adverse idea patterns and also habits that contribute to their anxiety. Drug might likewise be recommended by healthcare specialists to help manage symptoms.In enhancement to treatment and medication, incorporating self-care practices into day-to-day regimens can considerably lower anxiety levels. Regular exercise, such as yoga or running, has been proven to relieve stress and anxiety signs by launching endorphins as well as advertising leisure. Exercising mindfulness and also reflection techniques can likewise assist individuals remain grounded and also present in the moment, minimizing anxiety-related fears. Moreover, maintaining a well balanced diet regimen, obtaining enough sleep, and involving in activities that bring delight as well as gratification can add to overall mental health and stress and anxiety reduction.In conclusion, stress and anxiety is an usual as well as treatable mental health problem that affects numerous individuals. By recognizing the causes and also signs of anxiety, looking for specialist assistance, and implementing effective coping methods, individuals can handle their anxiety as well as boost their lifestyle. Whether it's via treatment, medicine, or self-care practices, there are various sources readily available to sustain those battling with stress and anxiety.

Read more here anxiety sheffield

[damiano-mylove]

Members of Måneskin with a mentally ill/disordered S/O

Illnesses included: Depression, ADD, Tourette's and PTSD (so warnings for that and SH, drug usage, isolation, and heavy topics in general) *Masterlist*

This was a collaborative effort between Nik, Lina, Lute and two unnamed but very appreciated people - all of us afflicted with the varying illnesses above

Vic

Vic would take an empathetic approach to your illness/disorder (relating to you, researching, never pitying)

Depression

Vic would take a more of a nurturing role to your sadness

On the more sad days, Vic would nap with you for a little bit but she'd get to a point where enough would be enough

She would coax you out of bed in ways that appeal to you more than you'd ever care to admit, starting out with just getting you to eat somewhere else than in bed, then eventually moving up to showering, etcetera, etcetera

Vic would be very acutely tuned toward your needs, and she always fulfilled

It broke her heart that you were so sad, but she could relate and that made it a lighter burden on your back

When you first told her, Vic just went silent, then hugged you for a long time

ADD

Vic wouldn't be as supportive in this, but not in a neglectful way

She had a way of getting your attention back on the topic at hand, but sometimes she was just as bad as you for getting away from the main point

The impulsivity, she wasn't the biggest fan of, but you two worked through it like adults

When you'd forget things, Vic wouldn't get annoyed - but she would always remind you when you forgot what you needed to remember

Also, she was the best for finding misplaced things

PTSD

Vic would be very careful to avoid your triggers, however she never felt as if she was walking on eggshells

Before you were able to fully tell her what happened, Vic would never force you to tell her anything you weren't already ready to tell her of your own accord

There was no way she couldn't feel a bit sorry for you, but she never showed it, and she certainly didn't pity you - she just was sorry that something happened to you to give you PTSD

She would be mindful to never act as if she would be able to fix you

Tourette's

It didn't annoy her as much as you thought it surely would - especially since you had been trying to keep the tics at bay in the beginning of your relationship

Vic usually went on like nothing happened when you'd tic, but sometimes she'd laugh if your tics would hit her

Vic would proudly go out with you, even though you were scared about the looks you'd get on the street, but she never minded because she loved you and she wanted to show you that she loved you

Thomas

Thomas would take a supportive approach to your illness/disorder (reminding you to take your meds, making appointments for you if you'd ask, doing anything he could to make you feel better)

Depression

Thomas would always be the perfect person who would just shut the fuck up and cuddle you, but he would only do it if you'd ask because he knew sometimes you didn't feel like being around people

Wasn't really trained in any of this so he just cared for you like he'd like to be cared for

He was doing his best, and it was apparent, but sometimes you'd have to tell him what not to do and what to do

Of course, Thomas wouldn't bat an eye to stop or start doing anything at the raise of your finger - whether it be rub your back or let you be alone for a bit

He understood that he alone could not cure your depression, but he understood that he would be around for the ride, if you would have him

When you first told Thomas, he was silent, just nodding. He asked you a few very respectful questions but would never dream of pushing you. He would rub your knee and assure you of his love for you, no matter what

ADD

Honestly, Thomas didn't know what ADD was, at first

He googled it, then thought better to just ask you for a primary source

During nights where you couldn't sleep, Thomas would be right beside you, not sleeping either, which wasn't healthy for either of you, but it sure as Hell made you feel less lonely

Thomas lost shit and things all the time, so he never judged you for that, and his memory was potentially worse than yours so who was he to speak on that

But he was extremely good at getting you to finish tasks before moving on (sometimes just finishing them himself)

PTSD

Again, didn't exactly know what it entailed at first, but asked you a few questions to clear the air

Thomas would lead you through deep breathing exercises (unless you told him not to) when you were triggered and started losing control

Would always do anything and everything he could to avoid triggers with you

He would he more than patient with you

Tourette's

He would find some of your tics endearing (not harmful ones)

At one point, you'd even developed a verbal tic saying Thomas' name, which he always chuckled at and responded to you every single time as if you'd requested his presence, each time with a new pet name and a smile

If your tics would hit him by accident, you would apologize profusely, but Thomas would always laugh and brush it off

During tic attacks, he knew to just let you be, unless you would stop breathing, then he would certainly step in

He would ask his doctor a "hypothetical" about how to help someone through a tic attack, then used that advice forevermore, and it usually made a helpful difference

Ethan

Ethan would take a companion role (letting you take the lead, showing him what would happen and what to do to help, always listening to you before making his own move)

Depression

He'd dealt with depression before, but thoroughly understood that everyone is different in how they display mental illness

Ethan would recognize what to do, but would ask you for confirmation before acting upon anything that had potential to make a difference

On days where you couldn't leave your bed, he would bring you food (not a steak dinner, but he would definitely bring you soup or toast or a sandwich)

On days where you couldn't shower, he'd either be in the shower with you, or he'd draw you a bath instead, or he'd buy dry shampoo and sanitary wipes (those would be the last case, because he didn't want to throw off your pH)

He would assure you of his love and that you didn't burden him whatsoever

You were suffering, and you didn't make him suffer, but he did take some of that suffering from you

ADD

Certain times, I regret to say, he may get slightly annoyed, but not for long and not to the point of icing you out or anything

Ethan always found things to keep your mind occupied (watching Monty Python (actually a great programme for AD(H)D people), intricate games, new books, etc)

The best at finding lost things, and also has the best memory under the sun

Your symptoms wouldn't bother Ethan, save for constantly speaking (which can get a little annoying during a film or something)

PTSD

Would basically just go one with life - he would avoid all things relating to your triggers and PTSD - but otherwise, it would be business as per usual

If you got triggered, he would be by your side and on your side

He would do anything; deep breathing, distractions, grounding, getting your meds, anything

Ethan would always let you speak about it, when you'd want to, but otherwise treated you the exact same way as he had before you told him

Tourette's

He's always looking for something to joke about, and sometimes your tics provide just the material

He wouldn't dream of taking the piss out of the harmful or mean tics, but if you were laughing, then he was sure to be laughing as well

If your tics involved a bird whistle, he'd call you his 'little red bird' but wouldn't anymore if that upset you

Tourette's are a tough subject to joke about, but Ethan would always listen if you told him it was offensive, unfunny, or just a bad joke and Ethan would always take it in good humour and apologize

Most of the time though, he could make some funny fucking comments

Damiano

Damiano would take a nonchalant approach (not explicitly talking about it, never take the spotlight off you (if he could help it), try his best to help you through any challenges without making you feel like you were an inconvenience to him

Depression

He was your best friend before he was your lover

As such, you were always able to talk to Damiano about your depression anytime you felt it getting bad, as to warn him

Damiano would never leave your side, unless you told him to, but he'd always have a film on in the back, or he'd play with your hair, or distract you by brushing your hair or having you help him pick out an outfit

He enjoyed cleaning, so your bedroom would never become a depression room, and that helped get you out of your slumps most of the time

Dami was also swimmingly good at getting you up, even if it be just for a dance in the moonlight then back to bed, or a walk around the block then on the couch

He understood wanting to cope, but if you were prone to drug usage, Damiano would totally discourage it and stop you from using as best he could

ADD

Not everyday is a trip to Disney, but with Damiano, it is

Damiano always had new records to catch your fancy, he'd always have some home project lined up for the two of you, he'd always let you do extravagant things with makeup on his face

It seemed if you lost something, Dami would find it, but if Damiano lost something, you would find it (good system actually)

Would always have reminders in his phone so he would add reminders for you on his phone (appointments, birthdays, events)

Damiano seemed to always have just the trick to get you to sleep, even when you felt like you physically couldn't

PTSD

After you told him, Damiano would immediately avoid the topic in future conversations

He would support you fully during any trigger or episode, but he never treated you any differently at all just because you have PTSD

It hurt him that something hurt you so badly, but he took it all in a deep breath - after all, he signed up for you, all of you, so he certainly wouldn't give up on you just because of a disorder

Damiano would be in your corner 100%, and you knew it and you knew you could always go to him

Tourette's

Some tics would get that beautiful smile on his face, but otherwise he continued conversations like nothing ever happened

He didn't bat an eye at a physical tic, not a verbal tic

But he was the man to go to during a tic attack

He wouldn't treat you like a science experiment, or like an insane asylum patient - he treated you with love and support, like no one else ever had

Damiano had read about a dozen books on how to support people with Tourette's, and he'd also talked to other people he knew who had Tourette's - Damiano was thoroughly educated on how to help you, the love of his life

headass this was hard to fuckin write and i know its shitty and the cw’s are a bunch and i cut it but im sorry and hope its good enough

[painsandconfusion]

My question is how would someone deal with a whumpee that is constantly tortured and abused by the an evil super powerful villain leader/ruler and their army that has taken over the world so not much can be done to stop it , whumpee is extremely terrified and injured how would someone handle whumpee and their situation if they found them extremely injured like that, and if whumpee is terrified of medical stuff what care would need to be given to them and how would that caretaker go about helping them.

*cracks knuckles* (dont do that in front of them though)

First of all, I need a little more information. Is whumpee still in the bad place or have they been taken somewhere else? What are their triggers? What's the extent of their injury?

If the injury is life-threatening...so sorry whumpee, we are going to have to knock you out and fix it asap. Keep them alive first. Fix what's wrong.

As for approaching/building trust with a traumatized whumpee, it kinda depends on the individual. But I think there's some standards that apply in most situations:

Keep them in one place. Let them nest. Find a corner. Make themself at home. Moving them will add to the anxiety and helplessness.

Make sure the room is the right size. Not so big that they feel overwhelmed. Not so small that they feel suffocated. Something in the middle with paces for them to hide (under beds, behind screens, etc). That lets them have some control over their environment.

Don't bombard them with questions. Instead, give them answers. Who are you? What are you there for. Why are you helping them? Why can you be trusted? Where are they? Where is Whumper?

Clarify that Whumper will not see them again. Just constant reassurance that they're safe now.

Let them come to you. Don't approach the whumpee if you don't have to. Stay low to the ground. Sitting, if you can. Open posture. And just....sit with them. Let them get used to you. Let them stare at you and get used to your voice. Read a book aloud to them or, better yet, tell them about your life. Your childhood. Embarrassing stories. The more they get to know you, the more easily they will trust you.

This seems obvious, but let them have plenty of access to food and water. Whenever they want, not on some schedule or merit system. Let them know they are safe and there will always be enough food and water.

Take bites of food and drinks of their water before giving it to them to show them that it's safe. Not poisoned. Not drugged. They're safe.

Ask them arbitrary questions first. Not 'who are you' or 'what did they do to you'. Ask 'what's your favorite color' or 'look my socks aren't matching. I should change on - which do you like best?' Little things that don't give away pieces of them, yet make them feel appreciated and included. It's also small things to get their mind off of it.

If their wounds aren't bad enough to warrant forceful medical care, build up trust first. If it's something simple - like a cut - you can hand the bandages over to them (or toss/slide them) and tell the whumpee how to do it themself. Let them have as much control as possible.

If the injured whumpee lets you do it, always move VERY slowly. Tell them exactly what you're doing and why you're doing it. Tell them what the ointments and creams are. Read them the names and explain what they do, then ask if you can use it on the wound. Explain what the pressure of the bandages will feel like. Just always let them know exactly what they're about to feel. Even if it's going to hurt.

Give them constant praise and consolation. "I know, that really stung, but you did so so good. It's almost over now. you're doing great. One more deep breath for me."

That reminds me. Breathing exercises. If the whumpee trusts you but is very anxious or panicking, walk them through it. Six counts breathing in. Eight counts holding. Four counts breathing out. Six counts holding. Or whatever exercise you like best. Anything to get them to focus on their breaths.

Also, other standard grounding techniques. Have them list five things they can see, four things they can hear, three things they can feel, two they can smell, and one they can taste. Give them constant praise when they come up with one. Do the exercise along with them and talk about the things they mentioned. "You feel the tile floor? I do too. It's cool to the touch. I picked it out with my friend and we used to slide around on it on our socks." Little things to get their mind going in a different direction.

Basically, never ever give them a reason to fear you. Let them trust you. Let them call the shots. Do what you can to help them, but don't force anything unless absolutely necessary.

Here have some more comfort things: give them lots of pillows and blankets. Soft things they can hold onto to feel safe. Don't leave them alone unless you feel they need space to think. (obv if you're worried about suicidal acts, take necessary precautions)

Soft music can be helpful too. If all they have to think about it their own ragged breaths, they'll work themselves into a panic.

Or the radio. Long term captive whumpees might not know what's going on in the world. Fill them in. Give them the resources to figure it out.

I think it's kinda funny how you asked the no comfort blog how to comfort but here I am with the goods anyway XD

Honestly I pulled a lot of these techniques from how I tame feral kittens, which, looking at your blog, is probably more on point than I intended 😅

Hopefully this helps!!! Best of luck with your whumpee!!

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 14 | S.R.)

Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Finale |

Summary: Separated and terrified, Spencer and Reader rely on their unique skills to survive. The team, minus Penelope and Derek, don’t know who the strange girl in the bank is, but they find out very interesting things about her history.

A/N: I don’t know how banks work. Idk how heists work. I know nothing. I hope you enjoy it anyway! Couple: Spencer/Fem!Reader 
 Category: ANGST. Just. All of it. All of the angst. Every bit. 
 Content Warning: Gun violence, discussions of death and dying Word Count: 10k

MASTERLIST

—————————————————

“Hello, my name is (y/n)(y/l/n) and I’m calling from the Bank of America on K St. Northwest to report shots fired. The shots sounded like burst-fire from multiple semiautomatics.”

When adrenaline kicks in, there are a lot of things that don’t feel real. Time seems to warp into some ominous presence weighing down on you, but your body has never felt lighter.

“Ma’am, where are you?” Her voice sounded so far away. My own just felt foreign, like it belonged to someone else entirely.

“I’m inside the bathroom. Listen, I might not have a lot of time. There’s a federal agent inside the bank. His name is SSA Dr. Spencer Reid with the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit. Call...”

My mouth blanked on the names of the two men Spencer talked about the most. I’d met them both, why couldn’t I remember?

Several more shots rang through the building as an answer. It was enough to shake loose the names, which flowed from me before I could even comprehend where they came from.

“Call SSA Aaron Hotchner and… Derek Morgan.”

“Can you remain on the line?” She sounded insistent — which is against their protocol by the way. My eyes were glued to the bathroom door’s hinges.

“Only until the door opens.”

The sentence conveyed my thoughts without actually forming the words. Once that door opens, I’m probably going to die. It wasn’t a completely irrational fear.

“Okay. I need you to remain calm. Did you see any of the gunmen?”

Jesus, it was like everything I’d just told her had gone completely over her head. “No, I’m in the bathroom.”

“Does the agent have his service weapon?”

“No.”

If she didn’t ask me a question I could say yes to soon, I was going to lose my fucking mind.

I tried not to think about Spencer outside, but I couldn’t help it. All of my thoughts were on him, even before the commotion.

Was he even still alive?

“Help is on the way, Ms. (Y/l/n).”

“Please hurry.”

My entire body shook from the hormones, my instincts telling me to do anything besides sit crouched on a toilet in a bathroom stall. I don’t even know why I bothered hiding. They would definitely kick them in, or just shoot straight through the doors.

“We’ve contacted Agent Hotchner and he’s also on his way.”

Finally, some good fucking news. I released my breath as quietly as I could, closing my eyes for just a moment to compensate for the fact I hadn’t blinked in several minutes.

“Thank you,” I whispered, clutching the phone like it could actually do something for me past this point. But it couldn’t. No amount of breathing exercises would help me through this one.

Suddenly, there was movement outside the door. A crowd of people were shuffling past the door, and I heard the distinct sound of a toddler wailing.

“I have to go.”

“Wait, don’t hang up—“

I couldn’t wait, though. With trembling hands, I erased the evidence that I’d ever called them in the first place. And then I resumed my position as a sitting duck; quietly and as ready as I ever could be.

I listened for his voice, but I never heard it.

—————————————————

Three seconds.

Did you know that a semiautomatic weapon can fire up to three rounds per second, depending on how fast the user can pull the trigger?

After the first shot is fired, no one moves. Puzzled and alert, people are paralyzed. Your first reaction is to look for the source of the sound. It’d been a second before I turned to see the three armed people and two dead security guards behind me.

It takes the average person one and a half seconds to cognitively process that they're in a potentially life-threatening situation. It takes another .7 seconds for a physical response to kick in.

Three seconds.That was long enough for a maximum of nine shots per person to be fired- twenty-seven shots in total; it was long enough for the air to be filled with the sudden outburst of helpless screams the patrons of the bank, and it was long enough for me to realize that I didn’t have my gun and that my girlfriend wasn’t by my side.

“Everybody get down on the ground!”

Amid the chaos, I felt that all too familiar twisting sensation in my gut that begged time to reverse just enough for this to be a dream. Enough time to reverse the decisions that led us here.

But time was a cruel mistress, and she did not plan to bend to the whims of mankind, no matter how desperate.

Another deafening burst of sound rang through the air, shots fired into the ceiling now as myself and the others fell to the ground.

My gaze was fixed on the bathroom entrance. I couldn’t breathe. Please, I begged, stay hidden.

“Listen up! If everyone does what we say, you can all go back to your boring fucking lives.”

Injuries occur in less than two percent of bank robberies. Deaths occur in less than one. Saturdays are the second to least likely day for a robbery to take place. In the past 5 years, less than 10 people have been killed in bank robberies, and most of them were the perpetrators. Statistics usually calmed me down and helped me focus.

But these people didn’t care about statistics. They were defying the odds I had just recited to myself. They had already killed two people. Our luck was already stacked against us.

“Take everything out of your pockets and put it in front of you.”

As soon as the order was given, I was running through an inventory of everything in my pockets. It didn’t take me long to realize that with a cursory inspection of the items, they would figure out who I was.

But what were the odds that they would actually scrutinize them? I figured they were fairly low; you don’t rob a bank to get cheap jewelry and petty cash, even in a bank. What were the odds they would notice if I left something in my pocket — especially if my wallet was in front of me. If it wasn’t large enough to be a weapon, and I put out my objects of value, why wouldn’t I put out the rest of the contents?

So I decided to take the risk, removing my wallet while retaining my separate identification.

Luckily, the attention seemed pretty far removed from me. If I wasn’t too busy being extremely grateful, I might have been offended that they didn’t consider me a threat in the building.

“Alright ladies, all of you get up and follow my lovely friend here. You’re going on a little trip. Fellas, you stay right where you are.”

The sound of my heart pounding drowned out the instructions that weren’t intended for me. It was fine, I hadn’t planned on moving, anyway. As long as I could see the door to the bathroom, I was perfectly fine right where I was.

But I still felt for the terrified women that were shakily rising to their feet. To my right, I saw a woman struggling to hold a small infant. My heart was fracturing at the struggle, wishing I could help her. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t risk doing anything that might draw attention to myself.

I felt like a traitor. I felt useless. I was quite literally trained to handle this exact situation, but now that I was here, I couldn’t move. I wasn’t thinking about strategy or how to maximize efficiency; all I was thinking about was her.

“Jake!” A woman’s voice screamed from the other side of the room. When I turned, I heard the sound of a rifle cracking against bone before the man hit the ground.

“Jake, huh?” The man above him laughed, using the business end of the rifle to turn the disoriented man on his side. “Well, Jake, how would you feel about your girlfriend watching you die?”

“Please don’t hurt him!” The woman sobbed, scrambling up off the floor that she’d resisted leaving. I wondered if (y/n) would have refused to leave me, too.

The man prodded the woman with the gun, urging her to follow the rest while simultaneously providing easy enough instructions. The man apparently named Jake made a few noises of desperate protest as he watched her leave.

“Shut the fuck up!”

“I’m sorry,” Jake pleaded, “I’m sorry, please don’t hurt her. I’ll be quiet.”

Smart man. I understood his hesitancy, though. His girlfriend kept her neck craned back until she was no longer in sight, gazing back at him for as long as she physically could. I closed my eyes just for a moment, to try and combat their current strain.

Unfortunately, just like it always seems to happen, that’s when they spoke the words I had been dreading.

“Hey, you check the bathrooms yet?”

“Nah, I got it.”

I closed my eyes tighter now, scared that if I opened them, I’d give myself away. There was no possible way that I could hide the terror I currently felt. To be fair, I think it was only natural to be scared — but not like this.

There was a loud crashing noise of doors slamming, and the voice I knew better than I knew my own reached my ears, making sounds I’d never heard from her before.

Don’t fight them. I pleaded again, Please, don’t fight them.

“Let go of me!” She screamed as the door to the bathroom swung open. Unable to keep my eyes shut any longer, I opened them to see her clawing at the ground as she was dragged out by her ankle. “I can walk by myself! Let go of me!”

I wasn’t sure if she didn’t see me in the commotion, or if she’d just made the decision to act like she hadn’t. Either way, I was grateful. Still, my worries were justified as one of the three unsubs walked over to me.

“Why are you looking at her like that? You know her?”

Craning my head up, I shook my head no. It must not have been very convincing; the rage in my heart at them for thrusting her into this situation evident in my eyes.

“You wanna play hero, kid?”

“Sorry. No.” I muttered, taking a deep breath in a failed attempt to regulate my heart rate or my voice, “She’s… very loud. I get headaches.”

“Yeah well, deal with it.”

That might have been the end of it, if I’d played my hand better. But it turned out that the risk I had previously elected to take was woefully miscalculated. I didn’t meet their eyes anymore, knowing that doing so might threaten whatever frail illusion of masculinity they possessed.

It still didn’t stop them from holding the gun to my head.

“Empty your pockets.”

“Okay. I can do that, but I have to put my hand in my pocket.” I explained, moving my shaking hand to my back pocket, “It’s not a weapon.”

For once, I was grateful that I was the resident wimp when it came to stressful situations. Sure, I could handle myself, but I definitely didn’t look like I wanted to be there. Had I been any more of a visible threat, I was certain they would have figured out my identity long before this point. They might even have killed me right away.

“Hurry up.”

Swallowing hard, I pulled the identification from my pocket, flipping it open and holding it up for him to see, my gaze aimed fully forward. He snatched the badge away, a cheeky chuckle and a smile in his words.

“FBI, huh? Well, aren’t we lucky. You just became our most valuable player.”

—————————————————

Morgan arrived on the scene relatively unhurried and mostly just curious. The information Garcia had sent over text message was vague, likely due to the crime being a local one. Nothing about this seemed to be the BAU’s usual fare.

It took him almost no time to find Hotch, dressed in casual clothing, surrounded by the massive response team swarming around the bank. But Hotch hadn’t spotted him yet, fully involved with SWAT.

“What’s going on?”

Finally turning to notice his arrival, Hotch gave his normal matter-of-fact report in his simple, succinct manner. “Three people stormed the bank approximately 20 minutes ago and killed two security guards. There are 19 confirmed hostages inside the bank.”

But there was one significant detail that seemed to be missing, and Morgan started to scan the crowd for familiar faces as he spoke. “Hotch, this doesn’t sound like anything we’ve been working on. Why are we responding?”

“The caller alerted us that Reid is inside.”

The words were so unexpected that Morgan actually did a double take, his eyebrows furrowed and bowed as he replayed them in his head. “Wait, how did the caller know that?”

“I don’t know,” Hotch said with an equally perplexed look, gripping tighter to the communicator in his hand, “but she referred to us and him by name.”

‘She?’ Morgan thought, his heart stopping for a second as he excused himself from Hotch’s side, pulling out his phone and frantically calling Garcia, who had already made her way to the BAU.

“Hey there handsome.” It was a mild nickname for the famed Penelope Garcia, but Derek knew that she was probably already in a tough spot. After all, it’s not every day that one of their own is in these situations. At least, not unexpectedly.

“Hey Garcia, do you have eyes on the people in the bank?”

He could hear the feverish click-clacking of keys on the other end, followed closely by her equally frantic voice. “I’m working on it but so far I can only see the main lobby. They separated the women and the men for some reason. Why would they do that?”

“Just focus,” he calmly reminded, “Can you see the women?”

“No. All the women and children were moved to the back.”

Rubbing his face to try and relieve the tension that had quickly made its home over his jaw, Morgan glanced over at the entrance to the bank. It was strange to think that so much had happened so quickly.

Garcia had mentioned twice now that the women had been moved to the back, and he was trying to figure out why they would do that beyond the usual control mechanisms.

“I’m trying to see in the back now, but apparently banks take their video surveillance far more seriously than everything else. Last I checked, a camera never stole money or fired a gun!”

“Focus, babygirl.” It was an instruction for himself just as much as it was for her.

“Sorry, I’m nervous, and you know how I get when I’m nervous!” She squeaked, “I don’t like seeing you guys on my screens. I’d much rather see you in person, safe and sound and preferably smiling.”

Trying not to lose his patience, Morgan just sighed. It wasn’t her fault. It was no one’s fault, except that of the bastards who just had to go and ruin a perfectly nice weekend.

“Can you at least tell me who the caller was? Did they call from inside?”

“They were inside and, one second, let me check, it was... oh.” Her voice cut off abruptly, dropping into a high pitched, desperate whisper. “Oh no.”

“What?”

“It’s... the girl from the movies,” Garcia’s voice got faster and more panicked, “Derek, it’s (y/n). It’s Reid’s girlfriend. Reid’s girlfriend is inside the bank.”

Now that his suspicions had been confirmed, he wasn’t really sure what to do with the information. Because now that he knew Reid wasn’t alone, he felt the need to tell Hotch.

A profiler with a loved one involved was in dangerous territory. It wasn’t just Reid, but Morgan had personally seen just how unhinged Reid could get when it came to (y/n).

“Can you see her?” He asked, his voice lower than it was before.

“Oh, god, yes! I can!” It was not the kind of excited exclamation Morgan had hoped to hear, but at least he had confirmation she was alive. “She was in the bathroom but… They’re dragging her away…”

Morgan had tried not to pry too far in his best friend’s life before, and he took a moment to consider whether his next request was honestly necessary, or if he was just trying to find a reason to snoop.

But he wasn’t. There was something off about that girl. It wasn’t that she was bad or wrong, but she was far too comfortable in situations that didn’t call for it. The way she carried herself told him that she had held her own hand too often.

“Garcia, I know I’ve already done this to you once but... I need you to tell me everything you can find on her.”

—————————————————

My entire body ached; the sensation of an unfamiliar hand clenched tightly around my ankle burned long after I was released. It was definitely sprained, at the very least. I didn’t dare try to touch it, though. It wouldn’t be worth the trouble, and the bristling discomfort kept me where I was.

Which, for now was on my knees in the backroom of a bank lobby. Beside us was a large, heavily reinforced steel door with way too many different contraptions. I decided then that this whole arms race between burglars and corporate America had gotten a little fucking ridiculous.

But however annoyed I was by that, I was far more irritated by the hushed bickering between the man and woman holding rifles on the other side of the room. I could only hear every couple of words, but I got the gist of what they were arguing about.

Apparently, they’d never heard of an alarm system that’s connected to locks, which seemed extremely stupid for people who had gotten this far. In hindsight, that should have been my first clue that something was off about this entire situation.

Still, I couldn’t deal with them making the same fucking arguments over and over, so eventually I blurted out what I’m certain any millennial in the room would know. “The keycard won’t work if they’ve sounded the alarm.”

The statement earned me a gun to my face, and after a brief second of confusion, I flinched away from the cold metal of the barrel.

“What was that, sweetheart?” She was clearly looking to gauge my reaction rather than actually ask me to repeat the information. That was fine. I wasn’t exactly a talented actress, and I didn’t see the point in pretending to be meek.

If she was going to kill me, she was going to do it. Although I was certain Spencer would disagree, I chose to believe that our fate is dictated long before it happens. I was not a profiler; if I survived, it would be because I had been taught to survive through brute force and spite rather than calm negotiation.

“The keycard system is linked to the alarms,” I said, slower now, “Someone hit the alarm, so the cards aren’t going to work. You’ll need to use the old school keys.”

Her eyes narrowed, her voice dropping to a much lower register as she crouched down to my height. “How would you know? You work here?”

“No, my dad worked security.” It wasn’t a lie as much as it was an understatement, but she didn’t need to know that. I guess that’s one of those good things growing up with the dad I did; I got very comfortable speaking in vague generalities. Spencer hated it.

“Well, your daddy isn’t here to help you now.”

Wasn’t that the damn truth. But that didn’t mean I was alone, I reminded myself. Despite being dragged and my vision turned literally upside down, I had caught a glimpse of him in the lobby. He was alive. That thought alone was keeping me sane right now.

“The different keys you need for an override are probably kept on separate people so one person can’t do it alone. Probably the different managers.” I muttered, nodding to the side where one of the employees flinched at my words. Anything to get away from the fucking gun in my face.

“Is she right?” The woman sneered to the manager, turning her full attention to someone else. I felt a little guilty, since the poor manager seemed a lot less put together than I was. But hey, they needed her, too.

“Yes, I already gave you my keys,” she squeaked, holding her trembling hands up, “Th-There’s another set behind the desk I think.”

“Would you look at that...” It was the first time the man in the room addressed me since he had pulled me out of the stall, and I had to admit I wasn’t exactly a fan of his. But at the same time, I knew that he was going to be remarkably more receptive to me than the woman. She seemed to be the one who was actually in charge.  

“Little miss problem was actually helpful,” he cheered, raising his weapon to point to the ceiling as he approached me. I chewed nervously on my cheeks, trying to meet his eyes but finding them uncomfortably bare.

“You should turn off the camera too, I’m just saying.” This time I didn’t nod, using one cautious finger to point to the small device that was currently staring right at me. I understood that it was probably helpful to Spencer’s team to be able to see, but I wasn’t really keen on my death being videotaped... as well as anything else I might end up doing.

‘Never leave a trace.’ That’s what I’d always heard.

‘Keep’em guessing. Even if you think it’s gonna kill you, because you don’t want to live with that over your head.’

“Fine. Do that and go get the keys.” He sounded intrigued, and I felt his searing gaze against my face.

“I think you should do it.”

The tension from before, when the two were arguing, had quickly resurfaced. She clearly didn’t trust him to be alone in the room, which solidified my belief that she was calling the shots, and he was just being dragged along for the ride.

In another life, I might have respected her ability to order stupid men around.

“Why the fuck is that?” He snapped, earning a bored roll of her eyes. The next thing out of her mouth was expected, but unfortunately the last thing I wanted to hear.

“I want to talk to her alone.”

Great. And naturally, her idea of ‘talking’ to me included weaponry. Using the end of the gun to tilt my head up to her, she gave a suspicious smile.

“Why are you helping us?”

“I want to go home.” It was my immediate and instinctual answer. It was the truth. I was helping them because I wanted to get the fuck out of here.

But you know, people expect everyone to have a squeaky-clean moral compass, so I decided to give a few more reasons.

“And I don’t give a shit about a massive corporate bank. I was just here to go to the bathroom– I don’t even have an account here.”

Maybe that was too many reasons, because just as her hesitance waned, it was back in full force. Shoving the barrel against my throat, she sneered, “I don’t believe you. You’re too comfortable with a gun in your face. You a cop, too?”

Cop?

I tilted my head to the side, baring more of my throat to her as I drawled, “Who’s a cop?”

For once, I was glad that Spencer had made such a point of reassuring me that he was not ‘a cop,’ because otherwise I’m certain the terror would have been obvious in my eyes. But for now, I could trust the numb apathy that was washing over me.

Please don’t be talking about Spencer. Please don’t know that. Good things never happened to law enforcement in situations like this. Hell, the two security guards had been dead in seconds.

“I think you know.” She was smiling, and I realized that this fucking psychopath was sharper than she wanted me to think.

“I don’t.” The words were said through clenched teeth, and I prayed that she would see them as insistent anger over the fear that lie beneath them, “And why would you kill me if I was helping you?”

She smiled, drawing the weapon up and down my throat until it landed lower at my chest. The movements were slow and light, a playful glint in her eyes when they met mine again.

“For fun.”

I didn’t move a muscle, my body remaining tense under her ministrations as I forced myself to hold my gaze steady. If she wanted fear, she wouldn’t get it from me.

“Then do it.”

The look she gave me told me she had seriously considered it, probably a little annoyed with my presence. But there was something else there, too, that same soft recognition that in another reality we might have been friends. I’m sure she saw herself in me a little bit; or at least somebody useful.

This confirmed my suspicion that I’d never really be able to read a psychopath. I didn’t understand how Spencer could do it every day. It’d only been a few minutes alone with her and I could feel myself losing the happy memories of the day.

Luckily, the man returned at the same time I saw a plan developing in her mind.

“Hey, come help me,” he called to her. Her response was surprisingly swift, the metal that was tracing over my collar bones disappearing without another word. He was holding a small bag of money, which seemed to seriously irritate the woman.

“Did you get that money from behind the counter?” I asked it before she had a chance. I wanted him to trust me. Or at least look at me more. It wasn’t that I wanted his attention as much as I knew I could distract him fairly easily.

He looked over at me, a dumbfounded look on his face. Men are so fucking stupid, I thought. The pissed off expression on his partner’s face told me that she agreed.

“It’s going to explode if you mess with it or it leaves the area. Probably with tear gas. If you’re escaping in a car, you’re not gonna want it.”

“Yeah, we know about dye packs, bitch.” She snapped, grabbing the bag of money and tossing it to the side of the door they intended to use.

I stared at the locks they hadn’t even bothered trying to touch. The same locks they apparently didn’t look up or know anything about when they came. Suddenly it hit me why this all felt so very off.

It was strange enough that no one was wearing a mask, and as far as I’d heard, no one was really trying to get out of this situation. I was certain that by this point there was a large crowd of armored men outside.

“Just trying to help,” I muttered as I started to scan the room, looking for telltale signs of tampering. The anxious whispering of the man distracted me just long enough to get more information.  

“Won’t that set off some shit? Chain reaction shit?”

“Shut the fuck up,” the woman responded with a swift elbow to his gut as she started to walk away, “you are an absolute moron.”

As soon as she was out of earshot, I heard the faint curses that fell from his lips. As he picked up the bag just to toss it away again, I noticed the presence of odd packages in the corner of the room. He really did not want exploding dye packs near those boxes, which seemed remarkably out of place.

“Why does she think she’s in charge?” I asked, finally ripping my eyes away from the objects that now seemed glaringly obvious. “You two guys outnumber her.”

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you.”

Relaxing my body as much as I could, I shifted back and forth on my knees, rubbing the tired muscles of my thighs. “I may have been told that once or twice.”

He actually chuckled; his eyes drawn to my legs like the absolute moron he so obviously was. She definitely had gotten that one right. The other women in the room were watching me, but I tried not to pay them any mind.

I didn’t know when or why they decided to let me do whatever I wanted, but I appreciated their apparent comfort in letting me try to kill myself. He made his way over to the boxes, each a specific size and shape. He carried them so carefully.

“I figure there’s no point in being scared if I’m going to die anyway.” I finally said. Shocked gasps and whispers filled the room, but I didn’t divert my attention to them– No matter how much I wanted to tell them to shut the fuck up.

They would distract me from the way his mouth curled into a smile when he closed the gap between us, his hand sliding down my head and over my shoulder to follow the braid Spencer had meticulously woven an hour before.

“How about you just shut up and sit pretty for me, sweetheart.” I tried not to let the disgust show as his hand slid behind my neck, holding my head so that I had to look up at him. “You seem like you’d be real good at that.”

Ha! If only Spencer could hear him say that. But I could play the good girl for just long enough.

“Do you need help?” I asked with a tiny shrug, “I might be little but I’m pretty strong.” Strong enough to break your fucking hand if you don’t get it off of me.

“Nah.” He ordered, his hand on my neck getting tighter. “But I don’t doubt that you could be useful. You look real good on your knees.”

My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might be visible through my ribs. I just needed an excuse to move. If he could give me an excuse to move, I could do so many things.

“Please let me help,” I begged, raising my hand to his forearm against my shoulder. His eyes began to shift, moving just enough to tell me that he wanted to look to the hallway. He could hear her footsteps, too. She was coming back, and I only had a few seconds left.

Once both of my hands were on his arm, I got the feeling he knew something even worse was coming for him.

“I’d love a chance to get to show you how helpful I really am.”  

—————————————————

Hotch had spent the past five minutes on the phone with the male unsub in the lobby, and the conversation was going absolutely nowhere. For whatever reason, they just seemed to deflect any opportunity provided to them.

They didn’t seem to give a shit about anything beyond pushing the buttons of each person they interacted with. Which, they did quite successfully.

“Didn’t realize one pig would bring the whole flock of you here,” he laughed, clearly motioning to Spencer on the video, “How bad do you want him back?”

“What do you want?” He responded without hesitation or a surprise. It was such an expected question to ask that he’d barely even thought about his words before they came out.

“Easy. A chopper, and for you to fuck off.”

That was the equally stereotypical response, meaning it was entirely unhelpful to them. From what they could deduce, they were equally confused as to why this heist seemed to follow all the rules, but match none of the motivations. It was like it was a show, a game, rather than an actual attempt to maximize profits.

“We can do the helicopter, but we can’t give you a pilot.”

“That’s fine,” he responded with a shrug, “Don’t need one.”

It was the first piece of useful information he’d gotten so far on the call. Because if they didn’t need a pilot, it meant one of two things: either one of them possessed the skill themselves, or they weren’t ever intending to use the helicopter.

Briefly pulling the phone away, Hotch turned to Morgan. “Tell Garcia to check our list with people with pilot’s licenses or any other connection that might provide them the skills to fly a helicopter.”

He returned to the call, continuing the usual script for these situations, trying not to act like he’d learned anything new.

“Can you release the women and children?”

“Nah,” the guy said with a chuckle, “I’ll wait.”

Hotch listened to the sound of the receiver for a moment, staring at the entrance to the bank like it would provide him the answers he still needed. He had his suspicions of what might be happening, but with no eyes in the back anymore and the trigger-happy group that had formed around him, he wouldn’t have the resources to convince them not to go in guns blazing.

“We’re ready to move in.” Which is exactly what they had requested.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He stated before finally moving to look at the man next to him, “Something isn’t right here.”

“Yeah, a lot isn’t right here. There’s 19 innocent people in there.”

It didn’t really matter how many times he went through this situation; the results always seemed to be the same. No one listened, even when it wasn’t one of their men inside.

“Storming the building isn’t going to help them. There are three armed perpetrators inside, and they’re each in a different area. It would be impossible for us to take out all three at once. Especially now that we can’t see in the back. There could be explosives in there for all we know.”

The man was unpersuaded.

“If we can’t save them all, minimizing casualties is the name of the game.”

“Wait a few more minutes. I’m waiting to hear back from our analyst. If they have the capability of flying a plane, its highly likely they also have the knowledge and skills to create weapons that we aren’t currently prepared to handle.”

Although still unconvinced, the man grudgingly gave in to the request. Hotch closed his eyes, trying to be grateful for the extremely small victory; they’d gained a few more minutes. But the relief was short lived, with Morgan putting his phone aside for a second to mutter the same thing Hotch was thinking.

“Hotch, these people are way too confident. It’s like they know there’s a way out.”

As soon as he said the words, the two just looked at each other.

“Garcia, can you also check for any other way out of the bank?” He asked, walking back over to the table laid out under the nearby tent. This would have been a great time for Reid to be here, he thought as he stared at the ridiculously complicated schematics.

He understood they didn’t want people to be able to figure them out (so they couldn’t rob the bank), but this was just ridiculous. It looked ancient.  

“Sure thing, but… Morgan, I think there’s something else you should see.” The nerves dancing in her voice told him that they were about to switch subjects. “You know how the guy disabled the camera feed in the back room. I was reviewing the footage we do have and it looks like… (y/n) told him to.”

“Why would she do that?” He asked, furrowing his brow as he glanced over to the ornate bank doors. Part of him wanted to joke that things would’ve been a lot simpler if he didn’t have to worry about Reid’s weird girlfriend, but it didn’t feel as funny when they were both in danger.

Maybe later, he thought hopefully, when they were all together again.

“I… don’t know why. But I did what you asked, and I went through her record and found a ton of sealed files on her and also her dad…”

Morgan’s attention was definitely piqued at that point, but he wasn’t entirely sure what to say. In the stunned silence, Penelope spoke again.

“Should… Should I unseal them?”

It was the same question he was debating in his head, and he honestly didn’t know. Although a long shot, he hoped that she could provide at least the bare minimum of context before they made that kind of decision.

“What kind of files are we talking about?”

“I can’t be sure until I unseal them b-but, I mean, they’re sealed for a reason and I’m talking scary sealed. Like, it might take me a minute sealed. Giving me the heebie-jeebies sealed.” She grew more frantic as she continued. Morgan knew they were running out of time.

“I get it.”

“Is Reid okay?” She switched gears, recognizing that Morgan’s hesitance meant it was probably a bad idea. She wasn’t going to push it unless he did. They didn’t even know if she could help even if they unsealed the files. Especially without a visual.

“They know he’s with us,” Morgan sadly admitted, “I don’t know what’s going on. Did you find another way out of the bank?”

“Right.” The conversation was going to give everyone involved whiplash at this point. “Yes! There is an access way through tunnels underneath the bank but it would take a massive distraction for all three of them to be able to get out of there without us meeting them on the other side. I’m talking earth shatterin–.”

She didn’t finish the sentence, her tongue halting the second her mind caught up with her voice. Morgan was equally concerned, recognizing the kind of distraction that this might require and the perfect way to escape with maximum damage.

But that wasn’t what got his attention. There was no fiery explosion or shouted epiphany, because at that same time there were the muffled sounds of gunshots coming from inside.

“Oh my god, what was that?!” Garcia yelled, accompanied by frantic clicking as she filtered through each individual camera to try and locate the source of the noise.

“Garcia, do you have eyes on the main room?”

“Yes! But it wasn’t in the main room, Derek, it was in the back!”

It was a difficult and necessary job, to consider what those sounds might mean for the young girl they’d met only a few weeks earlier. Morgan’s thoughts went even further, not only worried about her safety, but his best friend’s sanity. Lord knows Reid didn’t need another thing weighing on his conscience. Especially not about her; it just might destroy him.

“What does the unsub in the main area look like? Does he look confused? Surprised?” The words were coming, but he didn’t know where from. His body was on autopilot, desperately seeking any validation that they could still save everyone.

“I-I don’t know! He looks grainy! The image is like an inch wide!” She was clearly growing frustrated, which was a feeling they all shared at this point. “This camera is from before I was even born!”

“Try, Penelope,” Morgan pleaded, “Give me something.”

But the other men weren’t willing to wait.

“That’s it. We’re moving in.”

Morgan turned to them, his hand clutching tighter to the phone just in time for her to speak.

“He’s calling for them but they’re not coming out. He looks… Oh no. He’s yelling at Reid now. And... And it looks like someone is coming down the hallway? But he’s not looking–”

It was impossible to focus on everything that was happening, heavy boots and massive commotion as people began to take their positions. But if someone was coming down the hallway, and the unsub didn’t know, that could only mean a few things. Either he was about to be proven disposable, or someone else had fired those shots.

Either way, one thing was clear.

“Wait! We can’t go in there yet!”

—————————————————

There was a point in time where I might have questioned whether I would ever get used to a gun in my face. There was also a point where I actually had gotten used to it. But nothing could have prepared me for this moment, this terrifying realization while staring down the barrel of an assault rifle that I didn’t want to die yet.

I used to think that my life was somewhat disposable. Sure, I was helpful and useful for my job, but ultimately, I considered myself replaceable. The next person to come might not have the same credentials, but they probably wouldn’t also have half the flaws I do.

But now I wasn’t thinking of work. I wasn’t thinking about how replaceable I was, because it wasn’t my life that mattered.

I didn’t want to die yet, because I wanted to see her again.

So I just stared at the weapon, trying to remember that it was still a great possibility that I could. I tried not to think about what was in front of me, choosing to use most of my brainpower to picture what it would feel like when I had her in my arms again.

The vision inside my head ended swiftly, with the sound of rapidly fired weaponry coming from down the hall. Through the commotion of screaming, I surmised that at least two guns had been fired.

Silence followed. It was a stifling, exhausting, painful silence.

What broke it was even worse, with the gun in my face smacking into the side of my head as the man holding it lost his grip at the sound.

“What the fuck was that?!”

He looked at me like he expected me to have the answers, but I didn’t.

“I don’t know. I-I don’t—“ Not only did I not understand why two guns would fire, I didn’t know who had shot them or for what reason. There was one thing I did know. “It sounded like your weapons.”

“Hey, what’s going on back there?!” He shouted, twisting his body just enough to see around the corner.

There was no reply.

“Did your people get in here somehow?” The panic was obvious, and I didn’t know how to calm him down without arousing suspicion. He was continuing to devolve, stepping closer to me as he stuck with his original thought, “How the fuck could they have done that, huh?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is there anything you do know?”

It was a question I’d been asking myself. The longer the silence continued in the back, the more rapidly my anxiety rose. There are only a few reasons why we wouldn’t hear more screaming.

Either someone had managed to get remarkable control over the situation, or all of the hostages were dead. Including (y/n). I forced myself to consider the far less likely, but still possible third option: She was dying, and I could still help her.

“I know that there is still a way for you to get out of this.” I barely recognized my own voice as I rambled, “Is it possible your partners… Is it possible they were planning on leaving together?”

“What?” He sounded disgusted and exhausted, but simultaneously insecure. It didn’t take much effort to realize that he was the weakest of the crew. I’d already had my suspicions that whatever the next step in this journey was, he wasn’t going to be making it with them regardless.

“It was their decision to leave you out here, right? In the place with the most windows and the first access to the door? They put you with all the people most likely to fight back. And now it sounds like…”

I paused, my lips unable to make the next words without a deep breath. “It sounds like they killed the people in the back as a diversion to send in SWAT. Does that sound like something they would do?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

That was enough confirmation for me. It was definitely something they would do, and he knew it. He probably suspected it himself. Thankfully, it gave me enough courage to push back for the first time in this encounter. “Then go back there and see if they’re still there.”

“And just let you be hero and save all these guys? No chance.”

I wanted to laugh; if only he knew the real reason I wanted him to go back there. As terrible as it was, I didn’t care at all about the rest of these men right now. As far as I knew, they were relatively safe. In fact, they were in a better position if what I’d deduced was true. This man, while violent, wasn’t the kind to murder everyone in sight, even when cornered. He’d more likely be shot by SWAT.

“I’ll come with you.” It was a plea, a desperate attempt to get more information that I both wanted and feared. He watched me carefully, trying to read the terror on my face to determine where exactly it was coming from. He knew the hostages were useless to him if he had me, so I wasn’t particularly scared for my life.

At least, not just yet.

“Fine. Get up.”

I willed my legs to stop shaking; to just carry me far enough that I could see her face. I just needed to know that she was okay.

But then I felt a fine mist over my skin— it almost felt like the noise happened after, but I knew logically that couldn’t be true.

A gun fires before the bullets hit their target.

Time seemed to move slower as his body fell to the ground in front of me. My eyes followed him to the floor, but only until I saw the person holding the gun through my peripherals.

“...(y/n)?”

And there she was, clutching tightly onto a rifle, her body barely upright as she staggered forward. There was something remarkably off-putting about the sight of her holding on for dear life to something so morbid. A jarring contrast I would not soon be able to forget, if I ever could.

There was something even more unsettling about the ease with which she carried the weapon, and the fact that she had managed to fire something that powerful without a single stray bullet.

“They’re dead!” She boomed across the room, dropping the weapon onto the floor before she yelled again, “Everyone get out! Hurry!”

No one moved. All of the men, myself included, stared at the tiny girl who’d just saved all of our lives.

“Get out now! There’s a bomb in the back!”

Those were the magic words to stir a panicked crowd into action, people stampeding to the single double door at the entrance, but my eyes were fixed on her. She staggered forward, her arm around her waist and her eyes beginning to roll back.

Perhaps I was just clueless, my one-track mind too slow to navigate the scene in front of me, but it took me that long to see it. My brain rioted against the visuals it took in, the dark crimson dripping down her body. It looked like it would swallow her whole.

I tried to will my body to move, to run to her and do something, anything to help her. But I couldn’t, frozen in place as her small steps got weaker. It wasn’t until I saw her begin to sway that I lunged forward just in time to catch her before she hit the ground.

“Wait!” I screamed to anyone who would listen, my eyes frantically trying to meet someone in the crowd, “Someone get a medic!”

The woman with a child was the last one to pass. She stopped among the commotion, looking down at the carnage in my lap before bolting towards the door.

I had to trust that she would care enough to do something, because from that point on my attention wouldn’t be leaving (y/n). Her eyes were glassy, staring off into the distance and wandering aimlessly despite my face being in view.

“Hey, hey little girl.” My voice crackled as I held her cheek, “Hey, look at me.”

She was finally able to meet my gaze, her eyes filling with love with a small, delirious smile gracing her lips.

“Hey old man.”

The grin didn’t last long, the sounds of her choking and coughing replacing it as blood filled her mouth. I tried to turn her enough that she could spit it out, but it was obvious she was struggling to get any air at all.

“We’re gonna get you some help, okay?” I said with a false confidence, the twisted curve of my lips not even barely resembling a smile.

“It hurts,” she sobbed, her hands slipping in the blood on her stomach.

“I know.”

There wasn’t anything I could do; all I could do was sit there and stare, trying to decide where my hands should be. She was applying pressure to her wound on the front, but I could see the wreckage that was once her back. My hands wouldn’t be enough.

“I’m sleepy.”

“I know.” I was trembling, tears dripping from my face and mixing with the bloody mess; they still couldn’t dilute it, somehow make it vanish. “I know you’re tired. But you’ve gotta stay awake, okay?”

“Okay, I’ll try.”

At first, I wanted to say the innocence in her voice was surprising, but it wasn’t. She was innocent. She was just a young girl, trying to live a happy, normal life before she met me.

“You’re doing great.” I tried to convince myself this wasn’t my fault, but it didn’t work. She had said it herself — she wouldn’t have ever come to a bank on her own. The statistics of the rarity of this situation kept playing on a loop in the back of my head, but it was just a low hum beneath the sound of her pained whimpers.

“Spencer, I need to tell you something.” The newfound insistence in her voice twisted in my gut, and my hands held tighter to her arm.

“No, don’t,” I begged, already anticipating what was going to happen. “Please, don’t do this.”

“I have to tell you right now.” And then her voice was calm, a smile on her face as her blood-soaked hand left her stomach, trying to raise to touch me. It didn’t make it.

“No, you can tell me later.”

The words were so slurred and pathetic, I’m surprised she understood them. But she did, taking a deep, whistling breath. It was clear it hurt her to speak, and I wanted to tell her to be quiet, but the masochist in me needed to hear the words all the same.

“Spencer, please. Just listen to me.”

This sounded too much like a goodbye.

“I love you.”

Our bodies rocked as I realized I hadn’t taken a breath of my own in too long, the pain in my oxygen deprived lungs not nearly enough to distract me from the genuine softness of her voice.

“I love you so much,” she whispered, “Do you know that?”

I don’t know how she wasn’t crying, her eyes barely open but too tired to blink. That rosy complexion had faded, her skin blanching the longer she lay in my arms.

“Yes, I know.”

“I love you with my whole heart.”

My mind was flashing images from only a couple hours prior, her warm laugh as she laid on my lap, the way her hair slipped between my fingers while I wove it together.

‘You think you’ll still be around?’

‘If you’ll have me.’

The memories were blurring together, creating a symphony of promises that were about to be shattered in front of my eyes.

‘Forever,’ she’d said. ‘Forever.’

‘A white picket fence. Two little bratty genius babies. Just a normal, domestic life with Dr. and Mrs. Reid.’

Rejecting the thought, I shook my head, “You’re going to be fine.”

“I understand what you meant when…” Her voice was too quiet, too distant, to be this warm. “When you said it was nice to be able to say it.”  

The heavy footfalls and sound of a transport bed wheeling across the floor alerted me that I would have to let her go soon. Whether this would be the last time I ever held her, I couldn’t be sure.

“They’re gonna come take you now, but I’ll be right behind them. I promise.” I barely got the words out before their hands were all over her, those tired eyes shooting wide open as unfamiliar hands replaced mine.

“Wait, Spencer!” She cried out, her body too limp to make a meaningful attempt to stop them, “Don’t leave me!”

Her screams and sobs were ringing louder than the gunshots had, my body slowly making its way upright as I watched them place her on the bed.

“I’m not leaving you, I promise.” I tried not to let the panic bleed through, raising the volume as she started to be taken away from me, “Stay awake as long as you can.”

I couldn’t see her, but I could hear her attempts to scream. If she was calling my name, it wasn’t recognizable. I’m not sure which hurt worse— the sound of her tired lips butchering my name, or the silence that followed.

She wasn’t able to scream anymore.

When I emerged from the bank, the sun burned my eyes just as much as the sight of my team shocked to see me covered in blood. But I couldn’t focus on them at all, immediately bolting after the paramedics without another thought.

The extra time it took them to carefully load her allowed me to jump into the back of the vehicle before the doors shut. There were no words to describe this situation, nor make it any better.

So I just stared in horrified fascination, trying to gauge her odds as they rapidly changed in front of me. Of 107,141 firearm injuries last year, 31% died. How many of the 69% had assault rifle wounds? I couldn’t remember any other statistics. My brain had turned itself off, focusing only on the frantic beeping and scrambled voices.

“Where is he?” Her tiny voice cut through both the internal and external noise.

“I’m right here.” I nearly shouted from my precarious position standing in the back of the rattling ambulance. I wanted to move closer, but I was too scared. There were so many hands on her, and I didn’t want to get in the way.

“I’m scared.” She said, mirroring my exact thoughts.

“I’m right here.” I repeated, closing my eyes to hide from the carnage long enough to put words together that might make her feel any ounce of comfort, “You’re doing so well. I’m so proud of you.”

Taking an experimental step forward once the paramedics seemed settled in their places, I came to stand behind her. My hands were tinted red and trembled as they reached out to touch her cheeks.

She took a sharp inhale at the sensation, just barely holding her head up straight. I couldn’t tell if she was leaning into my touch or just couldn’t control her neck any longer. Her skin felt like ice, and although she was still beautiful, the blue tint creeping over her face struck fear in my heart.

“How much longer until we get to the hospital? Her body temperature is dropping.”

If she heard me, she didn’t respond. I stared at the paramedic who was obviously more concerned with other things at the moment. They were kind enough to give me a response, even if it wasn’t a satisfying one.

“Just a few more minutes. We can’t do anything until we stop the bleeding, sir.”

“Spencer…” Each time she spoke was simultaneously terrifying and comforting. It was confirmation she was alive, but also troublesome, because I knew that she should be reserving her efforts for staying alive.

“Hang in there, little girl. We’re almost there.”

She opened her eyes, staring up at me with clouded vision. I could see the pain so clearly it might as well have been me on the table.

“Please help me,” she sobbed, “help me.”

“I-I can’t.” They were the two hardest words I’d ever had to say. Frustration mounted in me, but none of it was directed at her. She didn’t do anything wrong. Myself, on the other hand, I hated myself in that moment.

She was begging for me to help her, and I couldn’t. I couldn’t do anything but stand here and watch as she bled out in the back of an ambulance, a stranger’s hands practically inside of her stomach.

“I don’t want to die.”

The way her voice cracked took whatever was left of my sanity with it, and I felt my fingertips slip in the blood as I pressed against her face.

“You won’t,” I tried to assure her, “You’re going to be fine. Just stay awake.”

“I can’t.” The usual spunk in her voice had faded, leaving behind the sound of a twenty year old girl with no fight left in her. “I’m so sorry, Spencer…”

‘Sorry?’ I thought below the horror, ‘for what?’

When her eyes shut, they couldn’t even make it all the way. It was an expression I’d seen before on the field. I wasn’t meant to see it on her.

“No. No, no, wake up.” I urged, patting her cheeks softly before closing my hands around them more tightly, “Wake up, little girl, please.”

I was talking to no one, because I don’t think she could hear me anymore. Absolutely nothing in her body changed, even as the paramedics became more rushed.

“I’ve located the bleed!” The woman beside me yelled as the ambulance began to rapidly slow down. “I’m sorry sir, but we need you to move.”

“Whatever you need. Please, just help her.” I’d said the words, but my actions didn’t follow. She stared down at my hands that were still tethered to (y/n)’s face, trying to provide the warmth that she desperately needed.

Somehow, I was able to wrench them away, only then realizing the bloody handprints I’d left behind. Her face still wasn’t moving.

“Please, I—“

Before I could say another word, they were already out of the ambulance. I followed as closely as I could behind them, trying to focus enough to ensure that every word said could be played again in my mind. Because the second she crossed the threshold into the surgery suite, I wouldn’t be able to hear them anymore.

I would have to wait. I would have to wait for her to be better, or wait for a declaration. And in that vast silence, I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop from torturing myself with every single word uttered in this building before the doors closed.

The doors were ahead of us now, and I wished time could slow down enough that I could give her one more kiss and tell her to be strong one more time before she went into the Schrodinger’s Box that was the emergency room operating table.

I wanted to tell her that I loved her, and when the thought crossed my mind, I realized that I’d never said it back. She’d said it three times, but in my adamant denial I’d failed to return it.

It was so much like us, I’d almost laughed. She’d made such a point of worrying about me leaving her, neither of us had ever stopped to think about how I’d live without her.

How would I live without her? The only person I trusted to have an answer was wheeled into the room, the door shutting abruptly in front of me.

In the reflection of the metal door I saw myself, drenched in the dark liquid. I tried to clean my face with my hand only to realize that they, too, were dirty with her blood.

The world had fallen silent, and I let myself be crushed by the overwhelming loneliness of an existence without her.

‘Don’t miss me too much, Dr. Reid.’

It was too late.

—————————————————

| Part 15 |

[im-fairly-whitty]

I would read an entire book about icarus and asterion/The Minotaur’s happy childhood /)

* pockets your kind words and slides these headcanons back across the table in return*

- Icarus is a very energetic and outgoing child, but since his father was afraid he might be targeted by the black market for the potential magical value of his feathers he was kept hidden at home until he was ten and they were moved to the palace. This means that despite his personality, Icarus got overwhelmed pretty easily when they first moved, even small crowds and busy open courtyards sending him into panic attacks if he wasn’t careful and pushed himself too hard.

This generally led to him hiding in a quiet corner until he could calm down and breathe normally again, something Asterion realizes very quickly about his new friend and that he tries to help with. Icarus is mostly just very frustrated whenever he gets overwhelmed because he wishes he could adjust faster, but Asterion’s patient and laid back personality goes a long way to both helping him calm down when things get to be too much and finding quieter two person adventures and games to play while he adjusts.

- Icarus’s crippled wing has been that way since birth, though they arent sure if he came out that way or if it was an injury sustained due to a shaken midwife’s mistake since Daedalus wasn’t in the room for the birth. Regardless it has always been smaller and a little misshapen his whole life, meaning he is unable to fly naturally. Despite that though he is able to soften a short fall to glide just a bit though not very well, he carries his balance differently than other people, and his wings have a body language all their own that end up telegraphing his emotions to those who know him well enough to read them.

While he is actually a bit vain about his wings they can be a pain to take care of, his annual molt in particular leaves him scruffy and irritable and tired for a couple weeks. Normally he doesn’t mind too much if people touch his wings as long as he has given them permission first, but during a molt his father and Asterion are the only two people allowed to touch his wings since they’re extra sensitive and the extra help keeping them groomed properly is worth the embarrassment of it. (Imagine the embarrassment you might feel at not being able to effectively do something like wash your hair yourself even when you’re a teenager.) He eventually minds Asterion’s help much less than his father’s, in true teenager fashion.

- One dreadful summer Icarus gets feather mites and swears he’s nearly decided to cut off his stupid wings entirely by the time the witchy queen kindly manages to concoct a potion to get rid of the pests . In return for a dose of the potion once a year he often brings her a bundle of his best molted feathers to show his thanks which do indeed have excellent magical properties to them that she appreciates very much.

- The biggest bother when he is finally fitted for a wing prosthetic as a young adult so he can finally learn to fly is that he has to learn to rebalance himself again while wearing it which is exhausting work.

- In the original myth it’s said that Asterion, because of his monstrous inter-species nature, can only eat the cannibalized meat of humans, generally slain by his own bloodthirsty rage. In HC!AU however his mother discovers through her occult studies that this is not actually a part of his nature, but actually a kind of magically imposed allergy for lack of a better term. When the prince is riled up by combat or exposed to blood or meat an animalistic and violent bloodlust is magically triggered that overwhelms him.

His mother concocts an elixir that is able to dissipate it and bring him back down to normal as a kind of antidote, so they end up learning to manage the curse by limiting his exposure to triggers and keeping the cure on hand at all times. In the end it kind of ends up being like a magical peanut allergy, except where if you have a reaction someone /else/ could die. (Also the antidote potion uses Icarus’ feathers as one of the main ingredients! The queen isn’t sure why they are so potent in helping that specific magical recipie, and if Daedalus knows why—or even why his son has wings in the first place—he’s certainly never told anyone. The queen suspects that Icarus’ wings have a tie to Posideon like Asterion does, but she can’t know for sure until either the god or the inventor spill the beans.)

- The queen had this allergy theory since Asterion was an infant, meaning she always kept Asterion away from anything that might trigger an attack. The thoery was first proven by his first episode when he was ten years old. Icarus and the prince had snuck off during a festival that was happening on the royal grounds and Icarus, upon them finding a foreign kebab vendor who apparently hadn’t gotten the strict no-meat-served-at-the-palace-memo, insisted Asterion try venison.

This of course very quickly devolved into an extremely dangerous situation that involved a hasty emergency evacuation, ten wounded royal guards, twenty damaged vendor stalls, and three weeks of a very distraught emotional recovery for both Icaurus and the prince after the queen was able to get close enough to intervene with the prepared antidote. The queen explains her now confirmed theory to them both, assuring them that it wasn’t either of their faults and noting curiously that even at the very worst of it Asterion never attempted to harm either Icarus or the queen during his rage, which provides all three of them a small comfort at least for future potential episodes, though all of them are shaken for a good while afterward.

- After that Asterion steers clear of any accidental snacks and doesn’t have another episode of note of real note until he’s in his twenties since as he gets older he gets better at controlling himself when he feels an episode coming and is generally able to remove himself from the situation. Instead of learning to fight like most royalty would (and after seriously accidentally injuring a wrestling instructor with his inhuman strength) Asterion instead does solo exercise training like running and weightlifting, getting safe practice at controlling and settling himself whenever his adrenaline starts to spike so that he doesn’t need the cure every time. He also never learns to ride since no horse has ever let him closer than the seat of a chariot, understandably spooked by his appearance.

- Aforementioned second largest episode occurs when a disastrously brave/foolish sell sword accepts a contract to kidnap the prince’s royal companion either dead or alive for a magically inclined client willing to pay a fortune for his feathers. When Asterion is woken in the middle of the night to find a struggling and injured Icarus being dragged out a window by a hooded stranger, the prince loses it completely and absolutely slaughters the assassin. Like, as in no one ever discovers who the man was since later what’s left of him is far beyond a state even resembling recognizable.

Asterion is so far gone in his rage that not even the queen is able to get close for hours afterward since the distraught Asterion won’t let anyone near the wounded and unconscious Icarus, trying to rip apart anyone or anything who gets too close. The situation is only diffused once the drugged Icarus is able to shakily regain consciousness enough to gently talk the prince down enough to take the antidote.

[saladejin]

Lost & Found | Jimin (M)

Jimin x Fem!Reader | s2f2l au, (ex)-policeman!Jimin, vetnurse!Reader | fluff, meet-cute, (emphasis on) hurt/comfort, angst and heavy angst, found families, slight humour, mentions of other members

Summary: You’ve essentially spent your whole life working around dogs, through sickness and through health, but one memorable encounter at the park has you thinking ‘why not one more?’ 

Or, maybe it’s not the dog that needs help, but rather the beautiful yet reserved man with honey blonde hair at his side. Perhaps, rather than dogs and cats, you need to start learning how to heal people. Maybe then you can start to heal yourself too.

Warnings: tw // (mental health, descriptions of death - no major, descriptions of abandonment - not by main characters, absent parents) // Descriptions of traumatic experiences, mental health issues/struggles (depression, anxiety), minor character death, hurt/comfort, mental breakdowns / resolved breakdowns. Only the tiniest, vaguest references to suicide - basically nothing.

- semi non-descriptive smut, fooling around in the pool, kissing, touching, fucking ... plenty of cussing lol

Word Count: 18.6k (hahahha kill me) 

A/N: Okay so here is my entry for the Ghostie Network’s ‘Dynamite Dads’ event, and it’s a bit late oops! I wasn’t really feeling up to write Jimin as a dad with an actual human baby, but I did the next best thing and gave him a gorgeous pupper who he basically treats as his own child ... enjoy :)

The genre was FLUFF, and my trope was ‘found family’. I promise you there is definitely some fluff to pay off for the angst. I feel ok saying it’s nothing too extreme, 🥺 but please heed the warnings and don’t hate me too much for the pain hehe

There will be a sequel, so this will most likely end up being a two-shot. You’ll see what I mean :) 

<< masterlist

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵  

Jimin knows from the very moment he opens his eyes to the sound of 6 a.m. birdsong, that today would be it. His last day.

He drags himself from bed, all fluffed up hair and puffy eyes, shrugging on the same dark navy uniform he’s worn for the past five years. He blinks away the sleep clutching at his eyelids, trying his best to prevent the flashing colours behind them from focusing into memories. 

Perhaps they were a lingering dream, flooded with the distant sounds of wailing sirens and a snarling canine, but thankfully they vanish with one brisk shake of his head.  

Snarling swiftly changes into a gentle whine, and Jimin raises his head with a troubled sigh to see Mandu sniffing by his bedroom door. His best friend, his companion, and most of all his boy. Jimin’s cheeks lift in a small smile, and the dog with a pelt of rich fawn brightens instantly, tail thumping the wall in innocent glee at seeing his handler’s eyes shine.

“Morning, bud.” 

Not two hours later, Jimin’s sitting just outside the chief’s office. He waits with downcast eyes, fiddling with his fingers to ward away the nerves and anxiety causing his heartbeat to pick up speed. 

He knows how it looks; he knows that everyone there can see through him and his firm expression. He’s never been good at hiding emotions very well, despite society’s expectation that anyone working in the law enforcement sphere should. No, not him, and that’s exactly why he has to leave it all behind.

“Officer Park…”

The chief’s eyes are not upset, angry or surprised by the news, but rather concerned. Jimin swallows his guilt down heavily, knowing full well that he has every right to do what he’s doing. He fights the urge to comb his fingers through his soft honey blonde hair, or the instinctual need to scratch at his own neck from the sheer distress of it all.

“Park, is it because of yesterday?”

That simple phrase was all it took to send him reeling back.

Flashing colours and background noise burst into focus, and Jimin suddenly finds himself reliving everything. Heavy well-worn boots thudding against the road slick with fresh rain, the sound of shrieking sirens all around, piercing his eardrums like knives. His lungs constricting, burning, with need for air as he follows Mandu into the darkness of the alley.

“Jung! Jung, where-”

Jimin can barely hear himself think above the clatter, the vicious snarling and gnashing of teeth against flesh being the only sound keeping him grounded. He has a job to do, and he’ll see it through to the end even if it costs him his life. He cocks his pistol and carefully peers around the corner of the dimly lit alleyway, hoping that the pathetic cries of the criminal under attack means that the coast is somewhat clear.

Anxiety bubbles up in his chest, for his partner and his boy, but he knows he can’t let his worry for them cloud his judgement now, of all times.

“Drop your weapon now!” he shouts above the noise, rounding the corner to apprehend the man currently locked into a bloody fight with his K-9 counterpart, desperately kicking and shoving to try and escape the ferociously snapping jaw knocking him down.

To Jimin’s relief, the weapon in question had been thrown down with a clatter amidst the man’s struggle, the gun still rotating slightly in its place from the force of its projection.

Then his bones freeze up when he watches the shiny object come to rest by a steel-capped boot, a boot so familiar to his eyes because it’s the exact same one he wears.

It’s Jung. Slumped against the wall, unmoving, unseeing … blood pools everywhere around him, and the iron-tinged smell hits Jimin right in the face until he can barely stand to breathe. “H-Hoseok, no…”

Mandu’s growls bring him crashing down to Earth, and Jimin’s pulled the trigger before he can even think twice about his actions. In the back of his mind, he knows he’s trained unconditionally to aim for non-fatal points on the human body, but right then and there, through the crimson haze of his fury, he wished he’d been able to do it.

Avenge him.

“Park…”

“Officer Park? Are you with me?”

Jimin gasps lightly, blinking his eyes to chase away the all-too-fresh memory from his mind yet again. His bottom lip is clamped so hard between his teeth, he wonders if the iron taste of blood in his mouth had actually been more than imagination. The superior officer sat at the desk in front of him nods solemnly.

“Park Jimin, I understand completely. I can’t stop you…”

The chief’s voice fades into the background as Jimin lets his thoughts wander once more, but he soon feels the darkness eating away at him again. The inner demons, the pain and suffering, because everyone leaves you, Jimin. The cycle repeats, you let yourself love then you let yourself lose.

“The … adoption of ‘Mandu’ as you’ve stated here, has already been finalised. We’re glad to see a long serving canine of our force retire to a responsible home. Thank you, Park.”

“Of course, Chief.”

The older man sighs and gives Jimin a once-over, clearly recognising that the man before him needs time to heal, however long that may be. Jimin feels it too, deep within his heart, his mind, and his very soul. This was it. He could finally hide. He could finally stop inflicting all this pain on himself and push it back to the deepest corners of his mind, where it would remain untouched.

“We thank you for your service, please hand in your badge and equipment by the end of the week.”

  ~ three months later ~

 “That’s it for the day!”

Muscles aching and eyes watering from a yawn, you peel the stretchy gloves from your hands with a grimace. The sweaty feeling lingers on your skin long after throwing the disgusting things in the trash. It’s only after you shed your nurse scrubs and lanyard that you remember you aren’t quite ready to finish up.

“(Y/n), you just have to take Jessie out for a bit before you go,” your colleague calls, much to your chagrin at the reminder. It’s been a long day at the veterinary clinic, and even if vet nursing wasn’t quite as strenuous of a job as legitimate veterinarian work, it still sapped a decent amount of energy.

God, you just want nothing more than to go home to your warm bed, and your fluffball cat. Instead, you pack away your uniform and grab a leash to prepare for the walk.

“C’mon girl,” you coo gently to the old border collie resting in her cage. There was an immense pride in the way the clinic took care of its sick and injured animals, and that included exercising the dogs every single day without fail. You absolutely loved it, loved your job and everything it entailed.

Ten minutes later, you’re letting the gate to the local park click shut behind you.

The dog park is remarkably busy today, you muse after letting Jessie off her leash for a run. Inside the spacious area – fenced off nicely with grasses delightfully green from the Spring air – are dogs and puppies of various shapes, sizes and colours bounding around each-other like ping pong balls.

You can’t suppress a snort of amusement as a particularly handsome pooch catches your eye, something akin to a German Shepherd though not quite as large. Your eyes follow the energetic bundle of energy as he darts around the group of dogs, chasing them and nipping at their heels to keep them controlled, just how he likes it.

It was inevitable that Jessie would soon join in, and you can only let out knowing sigh at the sight of the beautiful collie’s eyes lighting up with that familiar fire; a flame that had remained dormant for many, many years within her ageing mind. She takes off and rounds up the strays of the flock, arthritis in her joints long forgotten as her instincts to chase and collect take over entirely.

“Mandu, why…”

A breathy sigh escapes the person standing barely a metre away from where you sit on the park bench, and you finally take a moment to observe the other dog owners milling around this sector of the park. Their eyes are wide in confusion as they witness the spectacle happening before them, but you’re brought back to the man closest to you as he lets out another disappointed click of his tongue.

“It’s normal with herding breeds,” you find yourself saying through a fond smile, though your socially awkward inner self wants to kick you in the ass for it. The man, who looks as though he’d been about to jump in to collect his zippy companion, falters in his motion to regard you in surprise.

“Yeah, uh, it’s just been a while since my boy’s done it.” He rubs at his neck self-consciously, eyes glancing around to see if anyone’s thrown him a dirty or judgemental look already. From your place on the wooden seat, you can easily catch the way the sunlight caresses the man’s unique features, the worn-out sneakers and running wear telling you that he comes this way often to exercise.

He clears his throat. “You…”

As he trails off, somehow losing confidence halfway through his sentence, you feel that familiar pang of embarrassment that comes with talking to strangers. “Mine’s the collie, so I know I should probably step in too.” You laugh quietly, instantly breaking eye-contact when he holds your stare for a second too long.

He was stunning, to say the least, with incredibly soft looking caramel hair swept back from his face, and pillowy looking lips that were large, but fitting when placed together with his smooth sloping cheekbones and an elegant jawline. His eyes, though, were tired. They were so tired, and you knew exactly what it felt like to leave home every day when you were … that emotionally exhausted.

At your comment, the man breaks into a grin, because well … you’re in the same boat here. He’s probably relieved that you hadn’t lectured him on dog behaviour or keeping his pet in check, or something like that. Nope, turns out you were just as liberal as he was.  

You get to your feet, trying to inwardly shake the tingling in your chest from the sight of his lips curling into a smile alone, and jostle the leash in your hand to try and get your playful lady’s attention.

When that didn’t work, you let out a loud whistle and hope that the slight burning sensation travelling up the back of your neck would fade away soon. Although, you knew that as long as the curious man kept his eyes trained on you, it would persist. “Jessie, here girl.”

The beautiful stranger follows suit, but to your shock he barely has to make any noise, just a simple gesture and briskly spoken word before his responsive dog is sitting to attention at his feet. Ears pricked and warm canine eyes focusing on his owner as if nothing else in the world would ever matter as much as he did in that moment. You quickly look up to catch a glimpse of the man’s face once more, and the love now swimming in his gaze as he ruffles the dog’s pointy ears was nothing short of breathtaking.

You should go now.

You utter a tiny ‘bye’ as you take your leave, not even sure that the captivating man is able to hear you over the way he’s currently trying to scold his tawny-furred dog in a soft, gentle tone. A stern voice that still made it obvious just how endeared he was behind the annoyed façade.

You glance down to where Jess pads quietly on the pavement beside you, her black and white wavy pelt somewhat tousled from the exertion and her tongue lolling out in pure elation after stretching her legs. Sunlight, a blinding smile, caramel blonde hair…

How were you supposed to think of anything else now?

~

Three days pass, and you’re back in the clinic. Work is piling up, and you’re basically booked out thanks to a spontaneous outbreak of ‘Kennel Cough’ throughout nearby shelters. How the infectious disease spread to not one, but two localised areas, nobody knew.

“Someone must have taken their dog to all of them, or maybe had it transferred mid-vacation,” you growl to Dr. Kim, lining the antibiotics up on the med table after checking the clipboard thoroughly. Healthy vaccinated dogs would be fine, perhaps a tad sickly for a week or two, but puppies and those with immune deficiencies? Out of luck unfortunately.

“I’ve scheduled the radiographs for the most affected,” Dr. Kim informs, and you’re in a right mind to believe he’s only trying to reassure you right now. He sighs and flashes you a weary smile, age-lines prominent around his kind features thanks to the recent months of stress. “Hopefully we can rule out any pneumonia. You’re free to go on break by the way, Nurse (L/n).”

At the word ‘break’, you feel dread crash through your body like a heavy wave. Shit, had you forgotten to bring lunch today? A wishful image floats through your head of the delicately tossed Greek salad you’d prepared the night before, only problem being that it was still wrapped neatly in the fridge at home.

“Damn it,” you mutter, planting a forced smile on your face when the older doctor eyes you worriedly at the soft outburst. “Sorry, I’ll need to head out today.”

You can’t stop internally punching yourself for being forgetful, knowing that it’ll cost you precious time to walk to the nearest eateries and back. Perhaps if you owned a car, you’d be able to savour those few extra minutes of relaxing during your break.

Nope, it’s walking for you now. Idiot.

So off you go. The route is pleasantly quiet for the most part, with the sun slowly beginning to warm the leaves on trees as they protect their newly forming flower buds. There’s the incessant yet melodic chirping of birds while they scourge the nearby plants for food, either for themselves or their young. It was easy to stop and appreciate the various signs of revival and rebirth around you, but maybe not today.

Today, you had too much to worry about and too much weighing you down. There were so many helpless animal lives that were going to be lost, all because of one person and their ignorance. You had to come to terms with death fairly quickly when entering this line of work, but that didn’t make it any easier as time passed by.

Especially for someone like you.

You come to a sudden stop and blink your eyes firmly. The painted sign that blocks your path display the words ‘DOG PARK’ in all capitals, and it throws you off guard completely. You’d … somehow taken this heavy of a detour? Well, you suppose it could be worse, and the park did have another entrance on the far side you can use to somehow shortcut your way into town, but you can’t shake your confusion until ah.

There he is. The dog park guy, standing slightly off the well-trodden path. He’s dressed in a casual grey tee shirt and comfy matte black shorts this time, effortlessly showing off the defined muscles of his calves as he bends down to retrieve a bright green frisbee. He then flings it so high into the air, you doubt even his wonderfully enthusiastic dog will be able to catch up to it.

But when the well-built canine does in fact manage to clamp his teeth down on the airborne toy, you only manage to pick your jaw up off the floor after a handful of shellshocked moments. Some special kind of training had become evident in the way the animal springs off its hind legs with such intensity.

Right, you should stop staring like a maniac and keep walking.

At this rate, you’re going to be late back to work, and with the sheer number of things left to do and problems to solve with the shelters and kennels, you know that’s not an option. Hell, you’re so swallowed by your anxiety that you break out into a slow jog to make it at least halfway through the dog park in time.

Don’t look at him, don’t.

You glance at the man as you pass him, hoping to dear God that he’s focusing on his dog rather than the strange pet-less woman running through the park meant for pets, wearing dark forest-green scrubs underneath her jacket because she was too stupid to remember her food for the day. But alas, he is looking at you too.

It’s a weird kind of energy you can’t place, as if some kind of invisible force is trying to slow your feet down. The air thickens in resistance, and it’s like you’re barging through it to continue forward on your path. Everything in your body screams at you to stop, to talk to him, to say ‘hello’ with a smile because he deserves to have his own friendly one returned in some way. Oh wow, he’s actually looking at you, isn’t he?

The thing is, in situations like this you get nervous. You and attractive guys? Not quite the match made in heaven you’d probably expect. He flashes you that smile, all pearly whites to accompany the recognition from yesterday glittering in his startled gaze, but all you can manage is a strained grimace-like grin in return with a tiny wave of your sweaty palm.

Great. Fucking great.

At least you’re already gone before you can wallow in the humiliation; before you can simmer in it like a fine stew. He’s probably forgotten you already anyway, but you can’t help looking over your shoulder to check regardless.

Checkmate, he’s watching you go. The smile is now amused, and his head is cocked cutely to the side in playful confusion. As his dog jumps all over him to try and win back his attention, you flip the hoodie of your jacket up and try to ward off the embarrassed onslaught of laughter that bubbles in your chest. It would take more than a few days to wipe the image of his crescent moon shaped eyes from your memory this time around.

~

Jimin wakes to a wet and uncomfortable sensation prodding his face, and if he didn’t already have an innate sense for his favourite living being in the whole world, he’d be on his feet and ready to fight in no time at all.

“Mandu you gotta let me sleep,” he groans out, voice deep and groggy from his slumber. A persistent whine dragging from the throat of the animal rouses Jimin further, and he slides up to rest back on his elbows, eyes squeezing shut and skin covered in the slightest sheen of sweat from how hot it’d been under the bedcovers.

His dry lips part in a yawn. “Fine, you hungry?”

Mandu pokes his snout into Jimin’s cheek once more, big gentle brown eyes urging him to get up and start his day. Jimin knows that without his best friend with him, he’d barely have any motivation to step foot outside his room, let alone head out for a run each day consecutively.

It helps that his buddy looks out for him as diligently and as loyally as he had back when they were in the force together. It’s like nothing ever changed, and in the back of Jimin’s mind, he knows that the sense of routine had most likely saved his life time and time again.

“Alright,” he grunts loudly, lips curving into a smirk as he cups Mandu’s furry face into his palms, squishing the doggy cheeks he finds there together until the dog squirms in his spot on the bed. It’s not until Mandu lets out a frustrated yet playful growl that Jimin leaves him be with one last ruffle of his dark pointed ears.

Yeah, he really was fucked without his boy reminding him to eat, walk and sleep every day. Jimin knew it was pathetic, and he’d never felt so useless in his whole life, but it was enough to get him through for now.

Jimin scratches at his bare chest, freezing on his amble towards the kitchen when he spots something. Mandu stops along with him, his nails click on the floorboards in impatience but Jimin’s eyes are intensely locked onto the photo frame perched on the living room cabinet.

Idiot, of course there was one left.

He slams the frame down, making sure he can’t see the two laughing faces for a second longer than needed. He realises with a frown that he probably forgot to remove it due to barely ever setting foot in the living room as it was. Up until now, for the last five years, he’d spent most of his time at the station or out on the field. Patrolling, tracking … even apprehending, but that simply meant areas of his home went essentially unused for months on end.

Things were changing…

“Hey bud, what’s for breakfast?” he hums to his pal softly, finding a small happiness in the way Mandu circles around his legs like a bothered child. He assumes that if the dog were human, he’d be sporting the mightiest of pouts right about now.

Ten minutes later, Jimin finds himself nose deep in a bowl of flavourless cereal. On any other ordinary day, he and Mandu would usually race to see who could finish their meal the speediest, but he’s not feeling it this time around. The fawn coloured dog seems to give him a judgemental stare, as if saying ‘what’s wrong with you, did you let me win!?’ to which Jimin looks down at him and lets a breathy laugh fall from his lips.

“Not everything’s a competition boy, grow up already.”

Mandu simply huffs and moves to lay down, resting his muzzle on his front paws in defeat.

“How dare you roll your eyes at me.”

A dismissive sniff in response. Jimin finishes his meal with a shake of his head, knowing that if anyone were to ever hear the way he spoke to his pet dog, he’d most likely get shipped off to the nearest mental institution available. The sudden dark thought earns a surprised raise of his brows, but as he rinses his bowl off in the sink, he knows he has nothing to worry about.

It’s only him and Mandu now, and nobody else mattered. Nobody else was allowed to matter.

Yet Jimin’s always one to wear his heart on his sleeve. Even if he tries the hardest he can to shut the world out, he’s continuously drawn to people. Drawn to seek company and validation, drawn to love others with his whole heart unconditionally. He could have it all, but all the world does is take from him.

He sighs and sits back at the kitchen countertop, head resting on his folded arms much like the sassy child sprawled underneath the stool right now. “Do you think we’ll see the pretty lady from the park again today?”

The dog’s ear twitches, then flicks as if bothered by an irritating bug of some description. Jimin doesn’t know how to take that, really. Was it a no? Did Mandu even want to see her as much as he did? He supposes not, considering the ex-police dog was trained to be protective, and was instinctively so in every possible way.

He belongs to Jimin, and apparently that means Jimin belongs to him too, no friends allowed. Something in the back of his mind shouts that he shouldn’t be wanting friends anyway, that they were something to be afraid of.

“Whatever.”

It was the next day when things turned sour. To Jimin’s slight disappointment, they hadn’t seen the pretty lady in strange green attire again, but something did go horribly wrong instead.

Jimin exits the bathroom with a snowy white towel draped over his head, hoping that somehow his laziness will be overlooked for once and the towel will simply dry his hair for him with no additional effort, only for the fabric to fall from his head once he catches sight of Mandu walking down the hallway. Only he’s not walking, but rather limping.

“Buddy c’mere,” Jimin calls, voice pitching higher than usual in concern. With fear and cold hard dread settling deep into the pit of his stomach, Jimin observes the dog instantly perking up at the sound of his voice.

Mandu lets out a small yelp of excitement, but still has a stiffness and slight limp to his gait when he makes his way over. Jimin crouches down and pets the canine fondly, the sinking of his heart telling him that his suspicions were right all along.

Something is wrong here. He has to know what’s up, has to make sure his boy’s alright.

Jimin’s bundled the both of them into the car before he can stop to even think straight, and Mandu is nothing but a ball of excitement – bouncing around and goofily grinning the entire time. It hurts to think he’s fooling the dog into believing they’re going on some sort of spontaneous adventure, but that wouldn’t be entirely wrong. It’s only around noon so the local vet clinic has to be open, right?

He’s not dying, you really need to chill out.

Jimin knows his inner voice speaks the truth, but he continues to justify his frantic driving with a carefully crafted self-assurance. He’s only making sure, he’s simply worried for his baby.

He doesn’t stop to think about the way his hair is still unpleasantly damp from the shower, having forgotten to actually dry it beforehand, or the way his socks had somehow ended up being odd colours. He hastily finds a park outside the clinic and attaches his leash to Mandu’s collar.

What Jimin doesn’t expect to see, when striding through the administration doors with the dog in his arms, is you.

Your expression matches his own look of astonishment, your beautiful eyes widening in recognition in the exact same split-second his do. If Jimin was being honest with himself, he could probably just stand there looking at you for the next thirty minutes or so, but a miniscule wriggle from the animal in his hold brings him crashing back down to Earth.

“Um, hi,” he begins awkwardly, paces enormous as he lurches towards the desk you’re bracing your hands upon, still recovering from the shock of seeing him again it seemed. “I have a problem…”

You clear your throat and try not to smile at the amusing sight before you. Jimin knows it can’t be the strangest thing you’ve ever seen here, but the openly scared and confused dog clutched to his chest is enough to make you bite your lip in an effort to restrain yourself.

“I can see that. Luckily, we’ve got nobody in queue so you can jump right out back with me,” you say with a kind lilt to your tone that Jimin can tell is part of the customer service sector of your job description. He doesn’t really mind, nor does he even care. Right now, his only concern is Mandu.

No pretty lady in green scrubs is going to distract him from his best bud right now.

Fifteen minutes pass, and Jimin is worrying the skin of his bottom lip with his teeth. His wide troubled eyes trail over every movement you make as you examine the incredibly stiff and uncomfortable dog on the sterilised table. When Jimin meets Mandu’s startled gaze, he tries his best to calm his best friend down in a familiar gentle tone he would use at home.

“It’s okay buddy, you’ll be alright. Good boy…”

If you’re irritated or weirded out by his vocalisations, you don’t show it. Your mind seems to be too wrapped up in gently working your fingertips into the back haunches of the dog, massaging in slow circles. Jimin’s drawn in by the way you handle Mandu with such care and precision, and he begins thinking that if you were to do that to him, he’d probably be relaxing in no time.

Weird thoughts, but whatever, I guess.

The same can’t be said for the dog, though, and Jimin can only pick up the intensity of his soothing praises once he catches sight of Mandu trembling in fear on the table. The dog’s elbows seem to want to buckle under the stress of the situation, and it breaks Jimin’s heart to pieces to see his pal all worked up like this. It’s lucky that the animal has been trained well enough to trust in his handler’s presence alone, otherwise this whole examination might’ve taken a … darker and more vicious turn.

“Do you know what’s wrong?” he asks you quickly, voice high and strained as he reaches forward to scratch behind one of the dog’s ears in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. Mandu licks his palm in return, and usually Jimin would recoil and protest loudly, but today he was fairly sure he’d let his boy get away with anything.

You sigh softly, and Jimin doesn’t know what that means at first, but then you peel the gloves from your hands and flash him a small smile. Everything starts to feel okay somehow. “You see, Sir, this is quite commonly seen in specific breeds of dog, including your German-”

“Belgian Malinois.” The correction is out before he can hold it back, and Jimin wants to slap himself for how snappy and rude it sounds, but you don’t take offense in the slightest. Instead, he’s stunned once more when you click your fingers with a light gasp of realisation.

“That’s what it is! I was trying to remember the name of this breed for days on end, after the first time I saw him in the park.”

Jimin raises his brows at that, feeling the last of his anxiety melt from his bones at the sight of your smile, which was slowly beginning to familiarise itself to him.

“Ah, well you could’ve asked me. I would’ve told you in a heartbeat.” He chuckles, though it’s somewhat dry from the raw emotions still running their course through his brain. When you let out a soft laugh in return, he forces himself to tear his eyes away.

“Oh well, anyway you can calm down a bit, there’s nothing life threatening going on here just yet,” you assure in a calming tone, and Jimin can easily sense how there’s more sincerity behind the sound compared to the voice you’d used earlier when greeting him.

“There are two things I can narrow down for you, taking into consideration the information you’ve given me so far. Commonly found in these breeds is something called hip dysplasia, where the hip joint undergoes abnormal development or growth. The other possibility for his lameness is a form of chronic arthritis called osteoarthritis, which deteriorates joint cartilage more commonly in older dogs like Mandu here.”

“He’s not that old though?” Jimin hums, brows furrowing in bewilderment at the news. He pats the dog’s head fondly, saddened but glad that he can breathe a little easier now that he knows what’s going on.

“Perhaps, but he’s lived a very active lifestyle, you see. Heavy strain and activity on the dog’s body can bring this forth quicker, much the same as it does in humans,” you explain with a sad sigh.

“I do recommend getting x-rays done to check out the full extent of the damage, as well as to check for any other abnormalities.”

You then take your leave to fetch the main doctor, and Jimin finds himself startled to discover you’re only a veterinary nurse here. By the way you were reeling off information from the top of your head, as well as the confident manner in which you examined and diagnosed his dog, he would’ve effortlessly assumed you ran the goddamn joint.

He waits in the administration area while Mandu’s getting his x-rays done, fingers fiddling with themselves from the trepidation building up inside him. He doesn’t even hear you enter the room, and can’t help his back going ramrod straight attentively when you clear your throat. Curse his years of training in the force.

“Hey, I can just see that you’re a little stressed out there. He must mean a lot to you.” You walk around the corner of the front desk and take your place one seat away from him. Jimin realises that you most likely keep your distance from most customers with an unmistakeable barrier of professionalism, but for him you seem to be stepping right out of your comfort zone.

He can tell by the unnecessarily chipper tone of your voice, and how your eyes flicker nervously to the side every once in a while. You’re good at hiding how anxious you are, he’ll give you that, but not good enough to escape watchful eyes such as his. Not when he goes through the exact same thing.

He finally musters the courage to respond after a few seconds of simply eyeing you in curiosity. “Yep.” He smiles tightly and returns his gaze to his interlocked fingers, knowing the expression wouldn’t reach his eyes. “He’s been with me through thick and thin. Almost like a little brother or son to me, as weird as that probably sounds.”

“I wouldn’t say weird,” you instantly oppose, laughing to brighten the sullen mood Jimin knows he’s bestowed upon you. “I think it’s sweet, and he’s a very lucky dog to have someone caring about him so much.”

Your sentiment melts the icy sadness around Jimin’s heart ever so slightly. The cold blanket encompassing him ever since his last loved one left his side. He hasn’t felt the urge to open up since, but he knows he sure as hell wasn’t going to start now. “I- thanks, I guess.”

Before he can continue on and ruin the somehow light-hearted atmosphere by telling you he wants to be alone, you’re suddenly speaking again in that gentle voice of yours. “It’s kinda funny how we keep running into each-other, don’t you think? I can’t help but hope you’ll both be at the park whenever I pass by…”

Jimin’s at a loss for words at your candour, looking up sharply to see the way you’re shyly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and avoiding his eyes like the plague. It looks as though you regret the words as soon as they’re out in the open air.

But … he feels the same.

He can’t say it. He won’t. He can’t just let you in and create a space for yourself in his life, or heart right now. He cannot admit that you’ve lived in his mind for free ever since he saw you that second time, running past him with that smile on your face, confusing him with your antics to no end. Why do you keep getting under his skin in the best possible way?

“I mean, i-if you’d like to go out for coffee or something later on, I-”

He dips his head with a small sniff to attempt to cut you off in a somewhat polite manner. “Ah sorry, I’ve got a … funeral at two. Not really in the mood these days, but I appreciate it. Seriously, I do.”

He doesn’t wish to see your reaction to his less than eloquent rejection, but he catches it regardless. That wrenching moment you come to the conclusion that you read the signs all wrong. The glimmer of hope and interest in your eyes slowly flickering out like dying embers, although not completely, and he has no doubt it ever would.

You frown and instantly come through with a quiet “I’m sorry for your loss,”, but Jimin dismisses the sympathy with a tiny wave of his hand, claiming that it was a colleague and acquaintance rather than a close friend or family member.

It’s already obvious to him how much of an optimist you are. You’re holding onto that tiny shred of hope as if it were the string of a helium balloon, one moment of slack and he’d be floating away from you far out of reach.

“Right, sorry if I overstepped.”

He doesn’t know what to say. You’re way too considerate and understanding of him, and the painful burn that leaves on his conscious is so real. It reminds him of all the times his brother would tell him to never take people’s kindness for granted, but here he was shooting you down even though you’d never given him a reason to.

In fact, he likes you enough to go back almost instantly on his words.

“I really am busy, otherwise … I would actually love to, believe me.” He combs a hand through his hair in exasperation, inwardly cringing at the damp dewy sensation greeting his palm as he’s reminded again of his post-shower dilemma. You’re already chuckling at your newfound victory, and he’s pleasantly surprised at the sudden streak of mischief in your eyes.

“Let’s make it a date for Saturday then, see you at the park usual time? I’ll make sure to come out earlier so I don’t miss you again.”

Damn you’re assertive, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t liking it. Something in the way you so effortlessly drew him out of his shell was electrifying. Was he even in total control of his own emotions right now?

He’s left in a stunned silence, nodding in response to your question before you’re suddenly making your exit, uttering something along the lines of ‘best wishes for the funeral’ and ‘good luck with Mandu’, but he can barely hear beyond the rushing of blood past his ears. He’s a flustered mess of a man right now.

He only regains majority of his focus once he’s left the clinic with some anti-inflammatory and pain meds for his dog, a slight dent in his bank account, and a date.

~

Holy fuck. You really did that. You did.

When it came down to it, you just saw your shot and took it. Simple as that, really. When the attractive guy from the dog park had shown up at the clinic, piercing deep brown eyes full of purpose, you’d very nearly felt your brain short-circuit at the sight. However, as time went on you began to get a glimpse of his true self.

It took every ounce of strength within you not to openly coo at the way he soothed his canine friend, with gentle words of encouragement spilling from his plush lips like a steady stream of water. If you’d been blind, you might have even been led to assume he was speaking to a fellow human.

Jimin, he’d revealed as his name. He was so lost in his worry for Mandu you didn’t think he’d even retained memory of your own name when you’d given it, but in the end it didn’t matter. You now had a literal date planned where you could talk and get to know him even more! How you’d managed to force the bold question out, you’ll never know, but hey at least one of your spontaneous and stupid decisions had to go well once in a while, right?

You sink into your couch, a fluffy white cat curled up on your lap as you relive the memories from the day. The relaxing sounds of purring surround you as you massage your fingers into your cat’s thick neck fur.

“Oh Ghostie, what the heck am I gonna do?”

Right now you can only think back to the way his hair was a bit of a jumbled mess, evidently damp and sticking out in all directions cutely. The addicting scent of his body-wash, if the rushed situation and flushed complexion was anything to go by, and aftershave. The man had those butterflies swooping around in your stomach already, and you barely knew him.

Your cat growls in protest when you let out a tiny squeal and make a harsh grab for a couch cushion, effectively burying your face deep into it in pure unadulterated embarrassment and disbelief. After living life being perfectly happy and single, why was this one somewhat decent-looking man sweeping you off your feet?

And sweep you off your feet he would, because when you finally show up to meet him at the dog park on Saturday, you’re being harshly barked at and sent flying to the ground before you can even process what’s happened. The dull ache from the force of impact fades quickly, and you try to regain your bearings before anything worse can happen.

“Fuck, sorry!”

The sight of your freshly washed jeans, now sporting a lovely scuff, causes you to cringe slightly. You shake your head and lock eyes with the pointy-eared dog standing over your body. It strikes you as bizarre, seeing as Mandu’s not exactly attacking you, but he’s not all that happy to see you either. You’re locked into a stand-off, despite you currently being knocked onto your ass with your heart still racing.

“Get off her!” comes Jimin’s outraged yell, his eyes are wide in sheer disbelief and disappointment. You can’t help but laugh softly at his exasperation, the shock of the fall now trickling away at the sight of the familiar face, or rather faces.

“I’m sorry (Y/n), I honestly don’t know what came over him. We were waiting by the pond and he just … took off when you came around!”

You stand and brush your clothes off, feeling your cheeks burn at the fact that he had actually remembered your name from the clinic the other day. You try to tell him it’s fine, but he still scolds the now sheepish looking dog at his feet – albeit as gently as possible through his vexation.

“I couldn’t leave him at home,” Jimin starts, sighing and clipping a leash to the dog’s collar pointedly. “Told him to behave himself but yeah, that didn’t go down well.” He regards you with concerned eyes, and you feel your heart melt at how he tries to subtly check you over for any injuries.

“I’m fine, Jimin, trust me. Working at the clinic means I’ve had my fair share of body-slams. Don’t sweat it.” You wave your hands before squatting, lowering yourself to be face-to-face with Mandu who still seemed to be eyeing you warily.

You understood it. Here you were, nothing more than a stranger, trying to take his owner and favourite person in the world away from him. You had to somehow convince Mandu that you weren’t a threat to their little family of two.

“Hey, buddy. Remember me?” You slowly reach out a hand to pat the top of the dog’s furry head, eager to earn his trust. “I’m not gonna hurt either of you, promise.”

You miss the way something flickers in Jimin’s eyes after hearing you say that. A glazed look of predictability, of cold hard doubt … but it’s gone when you rise to your feet once more. The dog seems to have accepted you for now, averting his eyes from the direct and intimidating glare he’d had trained on you ever since he’d pinned you down.

“Shall we, then?” You find yourself saying, self-confidence shocking you both as you smile and lead the way out of the park and towards the middle of town.

It doesn’t take long to find a nice café to sit at, and it’s with reluctance that Jimin leaves Mandu tied up outside. However, he knows he has to tone down his attachment in view of the public eye, and you especially. He doesn’t know just how far you’re willing to go for him.

He was a closed iron door to the world, yet he was still somewhat intrigued to see your efforts in getting inside. There was no way he was going let it happen, not again, but … why was he here then?

After ordering the coffees, him taking his black after years of late nights on patrol and you filling yours with sugar, you both surprisingly hit it off well. You suppose that after noticing how heavily you could relate to him, and vice versa, it was easy to understand one another and fall into steady conversation.

“The police force, huh.” You sip at your drink with a drawn-out hum of confirmation. “I actually kinda guessed that.”

Jimin blinks in shock. “You did?”

“Yeah! I mean I’ve seen Mandu a handful of times now, and it’s in the way he’s thoroughly trained to listen to your every command, not to mention the way he moves. When I gave him the check-up at the clinic, I forgot to mention that I just assumed your occupation when I said ‘active lifestyle’ back then.”

There is no way you’re going to tell him that you’d also made that assumption based on the man’s incredible build and well-toned muscles as well. Best to keep your thoughts on the dog, and luckily for you Jimin turns his head to check on his companion resting outside by a bowl of water, allowing your eyes to roam freely for a decent second or so.

“Well, you’re more observant than I thought,” Jimin notes through a breathy laugh, fingers lightly tapping at his coffee mug in thoughtful contemplation. You can’t help getting lost in the sight of him yet again.

He’s an absolute vision right now even if he’s dressed casually, only foregoing the shorts and joggers for simple black jeans and flatform sandals. His hair looks as soft as ever, and though his eyes are still open windows that show he’s hurting inside, you can’t help finding the immense beauty behind the pain.

There’s a short, comfortable silence as you both nurse your mugs of caffeine, but you break it in fear of letting an awkward air settle in. Damn, you do love being a little socially inept sometimes.

“Why the name Mandu?” You think it’s an innocent question, but unbeknownst to you, Jimin’s thoughts spiral at the reminder. The memories and origins of his boy’s name that uncomfortably sting at his heart like nettles.

“Ah, it was my brother who named him … actually,” he reveals, wondering if the slight crack of his voice is noticeable as he smiles convincingly. If you see through him, you don’t show it. Instead, you register the hint ever so slightly and aim to avoid prying.

“You would’ve only had him for a few years, right?”

“I served for five, so yeah he’s only been mine for a few years, but I did meet him before that while we were both in training.” Jimin laughs at what seems to be a fond memory, pushing the other ones to the back of his mind for now. “I was a little obnoxious about it back then, because I had to be with him. I demanded it to the chief and everything, if I wasn’t getting Mandu then I would drop my application because we’d bonded so well.”

You giggle, and cough lightly to hide your embarrassment instantly afterwards. “I love that, it’s quite obvious to me that you two are meant for each other.”

“What about you? Got any pets?” he asks, eyes alight with a newfound interest. Catching the way he leans forward in his seat ever so slightly; you feel a familiar warmth bloom in your chest. Jimin was finally relaxing around you.

“Yeah, a cat.” You cover your mouth with one hand to suppress your amusement, waiting for Jimin to scoff at you or screw his face up in disgust, but he doesn’t. Rather, he looks upwards in thought and then shakes his head while chuckling meaningfully. “Mandu would hate you for saying that.”

“Not a fan?”

“Absolutely not. I’m impartial though.” He watches you over the rim of his mug when he lifts it, an amused glimmer in his eye.

“Good to know. Good to know.” Your eyebrows shoot up and you can’t wipe the grin from your face, absent-mindedly stirring your coffee with your spoon. It wouldn’t be long before the drinks were finished, but you didn’t want this moment in time to end.

The two of you chat for another half hour or so, but you can’t help noticing the distant look that surfaces in Jimin’s gaze whenever he brings up old memories of his family or brother. Your curiosity burns at this point, and you feel yourself wanting to get to know him so much more. He’s such an enigma to you. Watching the way he tries to let go and be himself, unapologetically, but holding back just as you catch an addictive glimpse of what that might be.

As you exchange more stories and memories, you can’t help but feel yourself digging a little deeper to uncover what’s tearing him down so hard. “You keep mentioning your brother, I’m guessing you guys are close?”

And ah, now you’ve done it. It hurts to see the guarded expression slam back down on Jimin’s features, but you knew it had to be done. You didn’t know if it were just you who could see it, but by repressing all his memories and feelings, Jimin was doing more harm than good to himself. Some internal part of you wanted to help him, because you knew exactly what it was like.

Though you weren’t expecting every dam to break just yet.

It takes a moment for Jimin to deliberate on his next words, but you wait out every second with him, patient and understanding. He notices this and decides that it’s alright for him to indulge just this once, to let someone in for just a single moment. “Not really, well … used to be. He, uh, he left town a while ago.”

Left?

You keep your tone quiet, not wanting to scare him away because he did seem like the type to take off at any given moment. “Sorry to hear that,” you murmur.

“It’s alright,” he says, wondering just how much he should give away. It’s the first time he’s met up and gone out with someone he’d consider a ‘friend’ of sorts in ages, so he’s not sure how much he should be disclosing right now, but something about you makes him want to let it all go. It scares him like nothing else.

“Honestly it hasn’t been … a great time for me since he left. Y’know, he was the only one that ever stayed, and things were tough being in the force and everything,” he offers through a dry laugh.

You want to reach out for his hand on the café table so badly, but it’s too soon to be that close. He’s testing the waters right now, showing you a vulnerable side that you can easily tell he doesn’t let out very often. It warms your heart, and all these broken feelings he’s showing you make everything feel so real. You can’t help but want to give yourself back to him.

“I can’t imagine it would’ve been easy. I know how it feels, actually.” You mentally prepare yourself to revisit a time you usually laid to rest, keeping the gentle smile on your face because even though these subjects were touchy and very meaningful to the two of you, you’d actually come to terms with yours years and years ago. Learned how to turn that pain and suffering into progress, self-growth.

“You do?” You can tell the sheer hope and relief in his tone doesn’t quite match the caution in his eyes, as if he doesn’t want to think that someone as bright and bubbly as you can ever have as many problems as he does, but you shut that train of thought down for him.

“Yeah, I … don’t have any family left either.”

He wants to know how, why, but he pulls himself back from the question almost instantly. Still, you can see it all on his features. He’s an open book for you to read.

“It’s okay Jimin, I came to terms with it a while back. I’m an only child, but my parents died when I was a teen.”

It hits him like a freight train then. The realisation that yes, of course there are other people in the world who have lost just like he has. The sad but forgiving look in your eyes just about breaks him. He’s been so self-centred the whole time, not even thinking that maybe you’re sitting across from him going through a life just as lonely as his own.

“I don’t know what to say.” To your shock, it’s him that reaches across the table to grasp your hand gently, and you hadn’t even realised it was shaking slightly until he’d steadied it with his own. There were no hidden intentions in his gaze, just a pained understanding. You’d both needed to simply tell someone.

“I promise I’m fine now. It was years ago. I don’t even know why I’m…”

You trail off with a shaky laugh, tightening your grip on his hand slightly in fear that he would let go of you. You were essentially strangers, but you’d both needed this. You needed someone to listen as you talked, to have that visceral sense for the pain rather than simply try sympathising with it. It was different when you knew the feeling.

After the sudden serious note of the conversation had passed, both you and Jimin felt a little weight taken off your shoulders. You’d both torn some walls down today, and that in itself was enough to garner bucketloads of respect and admiration on both accounts.

You part ways back at the park, a new kind of friendship blossoming that, if you were being honest, neither of you had seen coming.

~

A couple of months pass after that, and in between his regular walks and visits to the clinic, Jimin finds himself spending more and more time in your presence. He even jokes around with Mandu that he should walk just a tad more lamely so he can stay a little longer between check-ups. But at the end of the day he knows he truly wants his boy to get better.

The first time he steps foot inside your house, he’s instantly halted in his tracks by the fluffiest white cat he’s ever seen. After hearing you mention, ‘she hates strangers’, and ‘she’ll probably cuss you out straight away’, it comes as a surprise to both of you when Ghost wraps herself around Jimin’s leg and purrs needily. A louder purr than you’ve ever received in your whole ten years of being her owner.

“Stop whoring yourself out! He’s just here to pick up some worming tablets,” you tut in disapproval, earning a hearty laugh from Jimin at the snappy tone. Ghost narrows her green eyes at you and rubs her chin along Jimin’s pant leg one more time for good measure, proceeding to saunter into the kitchen utterly oozing with sass.

After a few more random visits, you stop beating around the bush and begin inviting Jimin over to either chill out or have dinner. Obviously, more often than not it turned out to be both.

You’d order something in and then joke about how unhealthy you were for being too lazy to cook. Jimin even gets so exasperated sometimes that he carts food over from his own home to cook up in your kitchen, funnily enough. It wasn’t your fault you never really had the time to teach yourself during your unrelenting years of university and work, and it wasn’t as if you had a parent around to help you learn as a child.

Jesus, way to be depressing.

It wasn’t uncommon for you and Jimin to find random spots of humour within your combined trauma and abandonment issues either, as unhealthy as that sounds.

You always figured that life was too short to be sad all the time anyway, and even though that ideology alarmed your newfound friend at first, he soon slowly began to see the appeal. He was kind of over being sad, honestly.

He remembers standing by the coffin at Hoseok’s funeral, the very same fateful day he’d encountered you at the clinic for the first time. He’d felt overwhelmed at the emotions threatening to pull him apart at the seams, but at the same time, he’d felt cold at the lack thereof.

That was the result of letting himself get close to someone again, even through work of all places. His partner with the sunny disposition and heart-shaped smile? Gone from this world in a single click of a finger. It was too easy, too much of a risk to get closer. Jimin remembers not even being able to bring himself to cry back then, but things are starting to change now that you’re in the picture.

He still has that lingering dread that you’ll leave him too, but try as he might to keep you at arm’s length, he simply can’t. You bring out the best in him, and you make him want to try harder, to try being better. In a sense, you’re like another Mandu to him. He can’t just ignore that.

He tells you about Hoseok one night, just because it comes up in conversation and he’s already rambling on before he can stop himself. He looks up at your crestfallen face, knowing your heart hurts for him even though he’s unable to muster the correct emotions, all thanks to the disconnection he’s forged from his dead colleague already.

He recalls severing himself from those feelings right as he died, and again when he stood by his body at the funeral, but then you went and somehow reconstructed that bridge without him knowing.

“You know it’s okay to miss people, Jim. To remember them for who they were, and what they meant to you. It’s okay to miss them because they’re gone.”

He cries in your arms until 1 a.m. that night.

After a while, he begins to let people see the true him, fed up with hiding and done with shutting the world out. He returns smiles directed his way in the street, he ventures out to do nothing but simply stop and smell the roses. It’s refreshing, and it’s as if he can barely remember what it feels like after years of being chained down by depression and self-loathing.

You did that, with your calming presence, your affirming words, your genuine care. He’ll never forget it.

And slowly but surely, Mandu begins to warm up to you as well.

“I swear he’s only squaring up just to show off or something,” Jimin snorts as he walks beside you on the concrete path, Mandu in tow on a leash now that you’re leaving the park.

“He’s asserting dominance.” You cast a glance behind you to see the dog glaring you down, just as usual.

‘Why the hell are you walking next to him when I’m supposed to be there? You’re just a lowly human who doesn’t deserve my dad’s time or attention. How dare you!’

You bite back a laugh when you imagine the thoughts running through Mandu’s head, and he sniffs and growls at the sight of you not taking him seriously. He’s a big bad wolf, fear him goddammit.

“I’m sure he’ll accept me into the pack one day,” you respond good-naturedly, earning an eye-roll from Jimin as he shoots a pointed look of warning towards his boy once more. He can’t help but feel tingles erupt across his skin hearing ‘the pack’ come from your mouth. You make it sound like an actual family, and for some reason he seems to crave exactly that. That’s what all of you are to Jimin, a little family.

“Sure, but good luck convincing him to accept Ghost. I’m sure he’ll be walking around with a ‘NO CATS ALLOWED’ sign hanging from his neck soon enough.”

The dog agrees.

The next day is when Mandu’s last check-up is scheduled, and you wait by the front desk nervously as Jimin discusses options with Dr. Kim in the next room over. It’s been several weeks since the dog’s initial diagnosis, and he’s had a slight improvement, but it isn’t enough.

You and Jimin have spoken about how worried he is regarding the dog’s rapid muscle loss, and your heart always constricts at the sight as well. There’s only so much medication you can give.

You already know that Jimin’s current status of unemployment means he probably doesn’t have the means to fund more than one surgery, that is if he wants to remain financially stable. You’d need another plan.

“Hydrotherapy?” Jimin squawks. He’s a picture of confusion right now, one eyebrow cocked and pretty lips parting in surprise. You can’t help laughing at his dumbfounded expression.

“Yes, Jiminie. Dr. Kim has asked me to explain it to you so we can work out when to schedule it. Basically, dogs with chronic arthritis need to be able to exercise their joints and muscles without the excess strain, so regular swimming sessions are perfect.”

“It’ll help him get stronger?”

“Exactly, and since he’s up to date on his vaccinations we can organise a session right away, if you’d like?”

Jimin can’t suppress a shit-eating grin at the formal tone you’re using with him. He’s so used to messing around with you and having general chatter that the sudden switch to your ‘customer’ voice, as he calls it, is now more amusing to him than ever. You grumble under your breath, knowing all too well that he’s making fun of you without actually saying it.

“Fine, when can we start then? I’ve only ever seen him swim once, and it didn’t go well for the bad guy,” Jimin acquiesces, lifting his brows once and smirking at you mischievously. You ignore him.

“That’s alright Sir, we can start this Thursday.” You smile in such a pretentious and artificial way that Jimin has to smother his offended gasp. Now you’re just being rude.

“Pretending not to know who I am? Damn, guess I’ll just throw that strawberry shortcake I bought in the bin when I get home…”

And he’s got you. Your eyes light up and your fingers curl into fists on the desktop. You swallow thickly at the thought of him eating one of your favourite desserts on his own, or even worse throw it out like the heathen he is, but you’re determined not to cave in.

“I’m sorry Sir, I don’t quite follow. Your unhealthy affairs have little importance to me.”

You’re putting up a fight this time around, and Jimin’s willing to play. He leans on the desk with his elbow, the suave and impish air he suddenly exudes makes you nervous on the other side of the marble structure. “In that case, can we make this quick? I gotta rush home and catch up on the last two episodes of ‘Anohana’.”

This time you can’t contain your sharp inhale. “You promised we’d watch that together.”

Jimin chuckles with glee, taking the easy victory with a cocky lick of his lips. You trail the movement with your eyes before glaring at him again. “I don’t even care, you’d better not.”

He enjoys riling you up way too much. “Or what?”

“I’ll literally bust down your door at 2 a.m. in the morning Park, don’t test me.”

He knows you’re only joking around, but hearing his last name uttered in such a grave manner shifts something within him. He’s suddenly transported back to the chief’s office, hands wringing together in unease. “Park, is this about yesterday?”

“Park! He ran over there, follow me quick!”

“Jung wait…”

He has to shake his head, the smattering of memories and thoughts filtering from his mind slower than he’d like. He needs to drown out the sound of the echoing gunshot with something else, something louder.

You’re watching him the entire time with an apologetic gaze, picking up the miniscule signs that tell you he’s had something from the past triggered and brought back up unwillingly. You don’t even know what it is that you said, but you stay quiet and allow him to regain his composure.

“You okay Jiminie?”

“Yeah, sorry. Just thought of something,” he hums, not bothering to try and pretend as if nothing happened. You both knew each other too well at this point, and you understood him enough to have learned it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Sometimes these things just happened.

“Thursday sounds great, (Y/n).”

“Of course, I’ll lock it in. How does catching those last few episodes tonight sound? We can ugly cry and eat ice-cream like the cliché we are,” you say with an enthusiastic clap of your hands, and Jimin smiles tenderly. You always have a sense for what he needs.

He inwardly thanks the heavens for your existence, because now he won’t be alone in the silence of his home, with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company. Even Mandu couldn’t help him sometimes.

“Lovely. It sounds lovely.”

You’ve changed him, and he wants to spend the rest of his life telling you just how thankful he is.

So when his phone rings one late night and he sees your name light up on the screen, he doesn’t hesitate to pick it up, even though his past self would have lethargically thrown it to the side while shrinking away from any kind of human interaction that wasn’t necessary.

“Hey,” he mumbles, eyes still squeezed shut from sleep.

Silence.

He’s startled into a more wakeful state by Mandu lifting his head suddenly from his lap, the attentive canine’s ears twitching as he bores holes into the phone in Jimin’s hand. Now worrying, Jimin says your name into the phone twice, eyes scanning the way his dog seems to be picking up whatever tiny sounds are coming from the speaker.

There’s a sniffle, and a tiny hiccup. “Jimin … I’m sorry. Can you come over right now?”

Anxiety flares up like some kind of wildfire within him, and Jimin’s rocketing from the bed before he can take the time to stop, breathe and think. Mandu follows, a bark of alarm leaving him as he dances around Jimin’s bare feet in excitement. He gets that the dog doesn’t know any better, but from the sound of your sobbing on the other side of the line, anyone could tell that something had gone terribly wrong.

He needs to be by your side now.

“Mandu stay,” he orders, not caring to use any proper commands due to the way his hands are shaking. His heart is hammering against his ribcage, just as it had way back when he’d rushed Mandu to the vet for a simple arthritis problem. Now, his next favourite being in the world was the source of his panic.

He’s thrown on whatever clothes he can find and tries to ignore Mandu’s flurry of whines and howls from inside the house once he’s settled in the car. You’re still on the phone, but he can barely get a word in when you’re crying and blubbering nonsense like you currently are. The most Jimin can do as he drives is what he would need in the stark moments of a mental breakdown, gentle words of encouragement and … a song.

He hates himself for it, but he remembers the lullaby his brother used to sing for him whenever he cried, and he hopes to dear God that he can calm you down with his voice just as Taehyung had when they were younger. The soothing notes fall from his lips, and the memories they bring hurt so much that he can feel himself choking up, but he tells himself that you matter more.

He pulls up to your house ten minutes later, your crying thankfully reduced to a collection of whimpers and sniffles. He doesn’t dare hang up, but barges through the front door without a single second of hesitation. He briefly glimpses the flash of a white fluffy tail disappearing down the hallway, the cat obviously scared out of its mind from the recent events.

Then he sees you curled up in the kitchen, and he just wants to make everything stop.

You’ve got your head in between your knees, tears falling freely from your cheeks as you cradle one arm in your other. Jimin notices with a jolt of shock that the arm you’re holding is all red and blotchy, and it’s clear to him that you must’ve burned yourself somehow.

He rushes to your side and holds you as carefully as he can, almost slipping on the pool of water and charred remnants of baking paper scattered on the tiled floor just beside you. “What happened?” he urges after trying to soothe your trembling form for ten minutes.

He has you on your feet now, arm in the sink as he runs icy cold water over the heated skin as gently as he can. He’s clumsier than you though, so even as he tries to handle your limbs with as much care as you’d once handled Mandu at the clinic, you still wince in pain every now and again. Guilt shoots through Jimin every time, but he knows you’ll forgive him.

You don’t speak until your arm is sufficiently treated and wrapped, thanks to Jimin’s courses in first aid that he can barely remember at this point, but it serves him well enough for now. Your eyes are downcast, and your lips are cracked from all the grief you’d caused them with your teeth. He waits for you to get it together.

“I’m … I’m sorry you had to come all this way-”

“Don’t say that, I’m so glad you called me (Y/n),” he cuts you off, leading you to the plush couch in the living room and sitting you down firmly. He kneels in front of your figure, now wrapped tightly in a blanket for security and comfort, and rests both of his hands on your upper arms.

“You need to tell me what happened, do you feel alright now?”

You nod your head, but he fixes you with strong disbelieving eyes and boom you’re weakened, shaking your head with a sigh. “No, I’m not.”

“How can I help? I’m not great at it, but I really want to help you,” he says earnestly, fingers pressing circles into your arms and calming you down enough to breathe evenly. Your lips twitch up into a nervous smile.

“That song you sang over the phone helped a lot, actually. I don’t know why.”

Hearing that causes Jimin to undergo a whirlwind of conflicted emotions, but he once again tells himself that you’re the only one that matters right now. He starts to sing again but you reach forward to ruffle his messy hair with a chuckle. “It’s okay, I’m just letting you know.”

Thank God, he thinks. Then again, maybe if he uses the melody and lyrics for good, those negative associations could be turned into positive ones. Maybe it was time to make the song his own.

He sees you struggling to think of where to begin and shifts to take a seat next to you with a smile. “Just start with what happened, yeah?”

“Okay.” You nod, combing back your hair with your fingers and wiping the last salty tears from your skin. “So I wanted to try baking something…”

You eye him with a glimmer of amusement in your gaze, and he instantly capitalises on it. “Well there’s your first mistake.”

You playfully wack him, feeling your spirits lift at the sound of his laugh and the sight of his crescent moon-shaped eyes. He really was your light in the dark right now.

“It was going well, actually, but then I heard Ghostie knock something over in my room and I went to check for … not even two seconds.”

Jimin knows that this is where it gets serious, your eyes glaze over again and he can see the recollection of the events flashing through your mind like a reel of film. “I left the baking paper out, and the space was way too messy, I-I definitely should’ve kept it cleaner. I came back and there were some things on fire, but nothing too bad. I just…”

You bend down to rest your face into your hands once more, and Jimin quietly rubs your back in concern. By the looks of it, you were able to put the fire out easily, so what exactly prompted you to break down like that?

You lift your head and keep your shaky hands clamped together by your lips, eyes stricken and weary from the onslaught of emotional stress. “There’s something I haven’t told you yet Jiminie, I would never hide anything from you, so I guess it just never came up. It’s … why I kind of lost the plot after throwing water over the entire kitchen like a lunatic.”

“You can tell me,” he soothes, brows furrowing in distress.

“It’s my parents. How they died….”

His throat tightens with apprehension at the topic, knowing it’s something you definitely avoid talking about whenever it comes up. It was always buried so deep, and Jimin can’t recall ever asking you about the finer details of what you went through.

He feels time slow to a halt as you utter your next words. “They died in a house fire when I was fourteen. Burned to death.”

Oh fuck. Fuck.

It falls into place now, and Jimin snaps out of his daze when he feels your shoulder shudder underneath the palm of his hand. He’s at a loss for words, the sight of how truly upset you are making his heart sink in sorrow.

He scoots over on the couch to hold you close and whisper soft calming words. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. You’re alright, I’m here now.”

You know he has no idea how much it means to you, just hearing those simple words when the anxiety and fear continue to claw at your throat like hellish nails. You’re caught in its grip, the flashing images of flames and the sounds and smells of screeching, burning, crumbling to dust. It surrounds you, and you choke on the tendrils of smoke as if they’re really there, filling your lungs like a heavy sand. It stings, and it’s excruciating.

“Maybe I’d fare a little better … if I’d just stayed somewhere else that night,” you can’t help whimpering out, the memories resurfacing too quickly for you to have control over them.

“You were there?” Jimin reels. Hearing that you’d witnessed your own parent’s death was nothing short of devastating. That was way too much for a young mind to handle, surely. Could the world really be that cruel to one of, if not the most amazing person he’s ever met? He can’t help but cry for you in this moment, trying his best to stay silent as his tears soak into your shirt.

You both stay locked together for another hour or so, Jimin listening intently as you explain the story to him of what happened that night. It’s agonising to relive it, but you know he needs to hear it from you. There’s nowhere else he can hear it from, really.

“Y’know, working in the force meant I had to handle situations like that a few times. It was rare, but it did happen. I’ve seen the faces of the families; I’ve seen the damage it can cause. I just wish you hadn’t been alone, fuck,” he mumbles, hating that he can’t just go back and fix what’s unfixable.

You wave him off. “Jimin, you’ve done more for me tonight than … literally anyone’s ever done for me. Truly, I love you for that.”

His heart leaps in his chest.

“I don’t relapse too often,” you carry on shakily, “it’s just that the sight of a fire that’s out of control just … it just terrifies me so much. I see their faces in the flames.”

It’s so fucking messed up. He feels his entire being shiver in discomfort at the image you’re painting for him, but he only holds you closer. He wants to chase it all away, even though deep down he knows he can’t. All he can do is be here for you, with you when you need it most.

“That’s why I went into vet science,” you say, eyes growing brighter the longer Jimin embraces you. It’s like he’s physically holding you together, and it’s so very safe in his arms. “I had to come to terms with death as a concept, like properly. I wanted to save those who didn’t deserve it just yet, those who deserve to live longer lives just like they did. It’s my life’s purpose.”

Jimin comes to the realisation, right then and there, that he probably loves you.

You are, without a doubt in his mind, the strongest and most remarkable person he’s ever met. He wants to be around you all the time, wants to share your energy, wants to be half as amazing as you are – with every fibre of his being. It’s not like he can just say that though. Not right now, anyway.

He tucks the thought away for another time. A better one.

“What about you? Why did you want to become a police officer?” you ask, snorting once into a tissue to finally rid yourself of the snot and tears.

“Me?” Jimin chuckles. You’re always one to turn it around, never wanting the spotlight for more than needed. He fondly reaches up to run his fingers through your hair, grazing the skin of your cheek along the way and making you smile wistfully.

“Well, it’s hard to pinpoint exactly why. It always comes down to justice, right? We all want to enforce that, protect those that need protecting, and saving lives as well. I’m very similar to you in that sense,” he starts, clearing his throat to lighten the atmosphere with a confident tone. You find yourself snuggling into his side, just longing to hear him talk for hours while you wrap yourself in the warmth of the blanket and his reassuring presence.

“My family left a while back, and my brother was the only one who stayed with me. Both of us had to fend for ourselves, and with me being the eldest, it was easy to fall into that father-figure kind of mould. I wanted to protect what we had, but it was pretty laughable when I was the smaller kid.” Jimin laughs, surprising not only himself, but you with the way he speaks about his past so openly and without any bitterness or animosity.

He was looking at it a different way, and he had you to thank for that.

“So I trained,” he continues. “I trained so hard and spent years proving myself. I came home to our tiny flat every night, prouder than I’d been the night before. And Tae-”

His throat tightens and he has to cut himself off, the syllables of his brother’s name dying on his tongue due to disuse. He hasn’t said it in years, and the feeling his name conjures is strange. There’s the ever-present cold hard hatred building in his chest, but in some wild and wacky way, it’s easier to move past it.

“Taehyung … he was so proud of me too.”

You lift your head from where it rests on Jimin’s chest, moving your hand to envelope his where it resides in his lap. His fingers grasp yours gently, a simple squeeze telling you that he’s alright to keep going. He’s got you so relaxed in his arms that you can almost feel yourself falling asleep, but you know you mustn’t. You have to stay awake for him right now, right when he’s opening up completely.

“Since you shared your story, I figure I have to share mine.” Jimin smiles, the expression not completely reaching his eyes. Both of you have made so much progress tonight, it’s not even funny. He knows that if he doesn’t tell you now, he most likely never will.

“We … fell in love with the same person, me and Tae. It got ugly, and we were super close until the countless fights and yelling matches tore us apart. Even after we both got over this person, we couldn’t stand each-other. We couldn’t make it through one day without a handful of painful jabs being sent back and forth. It was bad, so bad.” He takes a deep breath, and you sit up slightly to hold him closer. The positions were reversed now.

“I needed him, despite all that, I really did. He was the only one left, and I was too proud to just forget everything that’d happened to us. I got offered a place in an exchange program with a group of officers in my force, it was to Europe and it went for no longer than two weeks, but when I got back Tae was…”

“He was gone,” you finish for him when he can’t, raising your hand to wipe the singular tear cascading down his smooth cheek. Jimin sniffs and smiles at you, turning to bury his face into your hair and letting out a large, heavy exhale.

“I sold the flat after many nights of just crying and breaking down,” he mumbles softly into your head. “I still don’t know where he went, but I also didn’t want to exploit my access to citizen information to find out. I think that’s when my passion for the force started to die down, though it took years for me to finally have the guts to leave. Nothing’s fair in this godforsaken world.”

It was a harsh and negative outlook, but you found yourself agreeing to a certain extent. Here you were, the epitome of optimism and ‘bright side’ herself, wanting to watch the world burn for just a second. Just like your family had.

You cringe at your own line of thought. “It’s our job to make it better-”

“Don’t even say it (Y/n), I swear to God,” Jimin warns playfully, cupping you cheeks in both palms and squishing them until your lips open and close like a fish. His eyes sparkle with adoration, and you whine out in protest against his actions before you can get lost in them.

“I’m just saying!”

“Don’t just say! Let me be emo for once you fool.” He tackles you onto the couch, spirits steadily rising from the depressing venture into his memories. Feeling light and as unburdened as a feather, he pins you down and tickles your sides mercilessly.

You miss the warmth of his comforting hugs but can’t help shrieking in laughter as you let it happen. You’re happier seeing him happy anyway.

Before things can escalate further, a disapproving meow interrupts the two of you, and you both whip your heads to the side to see Ghost sitting in the middle of the room. Her tail twitches in annoyance, and her face seems to be screaming ‘are you lumbering idiots done yet?’.

“Wow, a whole mood-killer. Maybe we should clean up the kitchen, actually,” you suggest while trying to catch your breath, grateful for the reprieve. Jimin’s eyes flit back to meet yours, and you catch the dark look he’s giving you. He knows you’re just trying to escape him right now.

“Fine, but don’t go thinking you’re off the hook even for a second.”

~

Weeks fly by after your emotion-packed, train-wreck of a night. If anything, it only drew you and Jimin closer than ever. You now had another layer to your friendship, another reason to stick together through thick and thin.

Jimin had attended around three hydrotherapy sessions with Mandu, and to your delight, it actually seemed to be working well! The dog would definitely soon be right on track to return to his former glory, minus the slight greying around his muzzle from old age. There only seemed to be one problem though…

Mandu was shit scared of water.

Every single time, the poor canine would whine and yelp for his owner as if he were legitimately dying. You could only watch on in amused silence, pursing your lips to hold back a cackle as your best friend had to bend down at the pool’s edge in order to calm the dog down.

The staff members working at the specialist pool were understanding at least, but that didn’t stop Jimin’s cheeks from flushing with embarrassment every single time.

“Buddy please, you’ve literally chased down killers and jumped over an entire ravine before. Some water won’t kill you!”

It fell on deaf ears, and Mandu howled extra forcefully in defiance. You couldn’t hold back your snort of laughter this time, the scene of the heated argument between dog and owner way too funny to let slide. Jimin throws a betrayed look at you over his shoulder, grumbling something under his breath you can’t quite catch.

In the end, some of the more patient staff members manage to coax the shaky dog into the water, and it’s with great struggle that they finally manage to get him swimming properly. Jimin has to stay within the dog’s line of sight 24/7, even one moment away and Mandu would start thrashing about and yipping in a panic.

You laugh at Jimin the entire time as you stand back to watch, the looks he sends you in return having ‘traitor’ written all over them. If he didn’t have to stay dutifully by the poolside, you’d be in your right mind to believe he’d storm over and kick you into next week for being so bratty.

“You just need to practice. Get him used to it,” you tell him once you’re all leaving the facility, a freshly dried pooch trotting beside you with fur sticking up in all directions. You can’t help but think the dog reminds you of Jimin like this, back when he’d rushed to the clinic in all kinds of disarray.

“Used to it? Did you see him in there!?” Jimin splutters, squatting down to hold Mandu’s face sternly between his palms. The dog remains unbothered as he flashes you a side-eye for assistance.

“Yes I saw. I’m surprised police dogs don’t spend more time training in water, to be honest,” you muse thoughtfully, reaching down to ruffle Mandu’s ears in reassurance. “It’s okay baby boy, you’re not alone,” you coo, smiling when the dog’s tail wags twice in response.

“Baby b…” Jimin trails off, clearing his throat consciously after feeling heat crawl up his neck at the pet-name.

“Anyway, it’s been a few sessions and he hasn’t quite got the hang of it. Why don’t we try spending some time in the water outside of sessions too?” you suggest cheerfully.

“Where? I don’t have a pool.” Jimin cocks an incredulous brow. There’s no way any public pool in these parts would let some random dude and his dog splash around and dirty their space.

You step up and poke Jimin firmly in the chest with one finger. “Did you just never look out the back of my place?”

“You have a pool? What in the hell-”

Jimin’s mouth hangs open in outrage. Even after all this time, he really hadn’t noticed it even once? You had to be fucking with him. “No way.”

“Uhh, yes way? Dude all you had to do was look outside.” You rest your hands on your hips, definitely unimpressed right now but trying your best not to laugh at him too much. He’s already been the butt of all your jokes today. Every single one.

Jimin has to see it for himself to believe it, so the next evening he pulls up to your home with Mandu in the passenger seat. The poor baby is blissfully unaware of the fate that awaits him here, but Jimin only feels the sweet, sweet taste of revenge on his tongue at the notion. After the hell Mandu had put him through these past few weeks, it was time to get payback.

“C’mon boy,” he sniggers. An evil grin stretches across his face and figurative crimson devil horns poke out from his hair.

“How dare you take advantage of him and his inability to be human,” you drawl lazily from the now open front door, and Jimin jumps in his skin from the shock. He hadn’t even made it to the damn porch and you’d already heard him.

“He deserves the slander.”

You shake your head and lead the duo inside, instantly groaning when Ghost and Mandu begin hissing and snarling at each other like their toes have been stepped on. Your fluffy white cat has all her hackles raised in hostility, and the dog in return has his lips drawn back to reveal a row of sharp white fangs.

You’re at your wits end, and similar to the other few instances of Mandu and Ghost meeting, you stomp your foot and stand over the pair as menacingly as you can. “You two are acting like complete animals right now, calm down or you’re going into timeout!”

When the two pets actually shut up, Jimin guffaws with no restraint. You simply huff, as if expecting that your threats would work regardless, and gesture to the glass sliding door adjacent to the kitchen. “It’s out there, are you happy now?”

Jimin cranes his neck and lo and behold, there it is in all its glory. A fucking pool. And to top it all off, it’s even surrounded by a towering black metal fence and gate, as if Jimin didn’t feel stupid enough for not noticing it already.

“So who was wrong and who was right?”

“Shut up.”

The two of you get ready to begin your little ‘home brand’ hydrotherapy session, with Jimin already donning swim trunks in case he has to jump in and intervene at any point. The pool is already much deeper than he’d anticipated, considering the ones at the actual therapy centre were nice and shallow for the dogs in rehab.

You’re dressed in a similar manner, with small tight shorts and a black t-shirt that’s so long it almost hides the fact that you’re wearing pants at all. Jimin has to keep his gaze controlled from raking up the expanse of your bare legs. He wonders if you’d somehow planned to get him all hot and bothered, seeing as it was a warm Spring night that was perfect for taking a dip.

“Okay, well he already seems spooked at the sight of water. You’re going to have to get in,” you say apprehensively, eyeing the way Mandu is already shifting anxiously from paw to paw. You’re all stood beside the shallow end of the pool, the gate fastened shut in case the dog tries to make a break for it suddenly.

Jimin coaxes Mandu forward with soft words of support and praise, taking the steps one at a time. It’s obvious how much the canine is hating this, his ears are pinned flat to his head and his knees are wobbling from the fear. Your heart is shot through with pity for the animal, but he needs to get better at this.

“Here, I’ll help,” you mumble, getting to your feet and stepping into the pool behind the jittery dog. With Jimin pulling him forward by his shoulders, and you urging him onwards from behind, it doesn’t take long for him to start doggy-paddling around. You help Jimin monitor his movements, checking for any signs of discomfort but finding nothing as Mandu works to keep his snout above water.

“I think he’s less nervous because it’s just us,” Jimin comments, a wide smile on his face at seeing his boy paddle around calmly. No frantic thrashing, no barking, no outbreak of chaos as usual.

“Funny that,” you breathe out with a chuckle. The waterline comes up to around your chest at this height, and you shiver as the cool liquid brushes against the underside of your bra. “I can’t go much further, all my underwear’s gonna get wet.”

The innuendo is essentially fresh bait, and you already know you’ve set yourself up nicely just before Jimin chuckles. “Right, why don’t you just go back and take a cold shower then huh?”

“Literally fuck you.”

“I thought you didn’t want to get wet?”

You gape at his bold humour, not used to the suggestive way he’s eyeing you as he leads his innocent dog around in the pool. If you were being honest, the ideas he’s putting into your head are absolutely sinful to say the least.

“What if I do?” you scoff, and two seconds later you’re plunging deeper into the refreshing coolness of the water before Jimin can even clap back with something lewder. You’re completely submerged, and for some reason Mandu begins to panic slightly when you vanish from sight.

“Woah, it’s okay she’s not drowning,” Jimin hushes in a serious tone, making sure to support the dog’s body with both arms as the animal treads through the water with powerful kicks of his hind legs. You resurface further down, hair now completely wet and sticking to your head uncomfortably.

“Hey, he got scared for you just then,” Jimin calls out. You feel a tug on your heartstrings and swim back down to the shallower part of the pool.

“Aw, Mandu was worried for me? What happened to hating my guts for stealing Jimin?”

Jimin gives you a weird look at that. “Stealing me? Jesus, do I just exist to be passed around by you guys?”

“Maybe.” You giggle. Something about the assertive way you act has Jimin feeling hot all over, and he’s reminded yet again that it’s a quality of yours he’s come to find madly attractive.

Or maybe it’s just the fact that your basically halfway naked not even a metre away from him. He can’t even focus on the task at hand when he gets a full view of your soaked t-shirt, and how the outlines of your rounded chest are now completely visible to his watchful eyes.

He can’t help but gulp at the thoughts running through his mind. “Hey, how long has it been now? Think that’s about one session’s worth for today.”

“Right, it probably is. Good progress! I might stay out here for a bit though, it’s super hot and my air conditioner basically cracked the shits last night.”

Jimin climbs out of the pool, the hem of his shirt soaked but luckily everything above that dry as a bone. He grabs a towel and dries Mandu off, whispering praises of how well he did to swim properly today. Once he’s done, he opens the gate and lets the dog out to run around your somewhat spacious backyard. Jimin has to look away in disdain, because he knows it won’t be long before his buddy starts rolling around and making himself filthy again.

Jimin returns his gaze back to you, and he stifles a laugh when he sees you randomly floating on your back in the middle of the pool, limbs splayed out like a starfish. You look dead to the world, but honestly, he can’t blame you. It is rather hot for a Spring night.

He barely even thinks about his actions before he’s peeling the shirt from his back. His honey blonde hair becomes tousled from the movement, and he throws away the piece of clothing without batting an eyelid.

As for you, well, now you’re stressed.

Sure, you knew he was an ex-police officer. You knew he worked out daily and took care of himself unbelievably well. Sure, you were happy to just close your eyes and pretend like you weren’t ogling the heck out of him right now, but it just wasn’t happening.

He was absolutely beautiful; you could even say carved from marble and it wouldn’t be much of a stretch. It was difficult not to gawk at the smooth way his muscled arms and shoulders tapered down into a gracefully cinched waist, not to mention the nice set of washboard abs and delicious V-line that has your mouth very nearly watering. You remind yourself to ask him later what the large ‘Nevermind’ tattoo stretching along his ribcage means.

“Wow, you could have some shame.” He flashes you that shit-eating grin, but frankly, you’re just ecstatic that he seems to be so confident in his own skin. Once upon a time throughout your friendship, he would have never been this comfortable around you.

“What, am I not allowed to appreciate what you’re showing me? You could’ve easily just left the shirt on,” you complain loudly, rolling over to lay face down in the water in hopes that it would douse the heating of your rapidly burning cheeks. With your eyes and ears underwater, you only feel the ripples hit your skin as he jumps in to join you.

You lift your head and gasp for air, catching sight of him swimming towards you rapidly. “Wait, what are you doing!?” You barely get to shout before he’s picking you up and throwing you back down into the water with a tremendous splash, loud laughter booming from his chest as you scream and struggle in his grip.

“Jimin I swear-”

You cut yourself off by sweeping a massive wave of water in his direction with both arms, grinning wickedly as it smacks him straight in the face. He wipes at his eyes and shakes his head, much like a dog would, and you vaguely register Mandu’s barks of excitement from somewhere out in the yard.

“I’m getting you back for that,” Jimin grunts, and you feel your stomach squirm as he starts moving towards you again.

“No, no, no! Okay I’ll be good, leave me please!”

Your pleas are left unheard as you try to escape from his grasp, but he’s too quick and too strong to evade. Your legs kick up into the air helplessly as he dunks you again, and once you finally resurface, he’s already got you in his hold. “Stop, I can’t compete with you, you beefcake.” You purse your lips and blow a raspberry of pool spittle into his face, struggling within his arms in fear that he would start throwing you again, or even worse … tickle you.

Your loud wails and shrieks of laughter had filled the air for the past ten minutes or so, but you were obviously weaker than he was, and you both knew you were going to tire out much faster. So, to your pleasant surprise, he stops teasing you and simply holds you by the waist, high enough that your entire head and neck are above water.

“You’re absolutely ruthless,” you grumble, bringing your hands up to rest on his bare biceps for support. You marvel at the way the lean muscles flex underneath your fingers as he shifts you to be more comfortable.

It’s so very hot, and you can’t help but notice the heat licking at your abdomen the longer you stay locked in this position. Your legs wrapped around his torso, and his face is just above the line of your soaked chest. You just thank God you hadn’t chosen to wear a white shirt at this point.

“Yeah, well you’re just fun to mess with,” he finally responds after a few moments of slowly floating around the pool’s edge. You smile warmly down at him and use both your hands to comb back his dripping hair with your deft fingers. Once again, you’re stunned into silence at how attractive he truly is. Especially when he looks at you like that.

Wait, why is he looking at you like that?

His handsome eyes are dark, and lidded. He’s smirking at you just as he always does, but this time there’s something different. The air around you changes. It feels … charged.

He’s not done, shockingly, and he continues to back you up until you feel the edge of the pool press into your back ever so slightly. He then lets you down to stand on your own two feet now that it’s shallow, your toes brush the pool tiles suddenly and the feeling elicits a small jump of surprise.

He’s closer than he’s ever been, and you feel your breath hitch at the feeling of his bare chest brushing against the material of your saturated bra. His hands come up to trace the line of your waist again, and you have to remind yourself to breathe.

“Jimin,” you sigh, looking up at him through your lashes. Your hands have a mind of their own at this point, and they find themselves tracing the lines of his dripping arm muscles once more. His eyes are staring into your own, burning with a heat and a desire you know all too well.

He wants you, right now.

You immediately cave in, feeling your thighs squeeze together as he descends upon your lips. The kiss is somewhere in between sensual and ravenous, with both your lips parting almost simultaneously in pleasant surprise. He lifts one hand from your hips to tangle into the wet hair at the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him as he melds his lips together with yours.

God, you’ve pined after him for so long that you somehow forgot what the feeling was called. You moan softly into the kiss and feel his lips quirk into a smile. He immediately knows just how badly you’d been craving this, and honestly, he’s been thinking about the exact same thing for months now. You both just needed some kind of hot situation to force you together, to give you the confidence to finally take the chance.

“You don’t know how long I’ve just wanted to have you like this,” Jimin says in a low voice, pulling back to catch his breath and rest his forehead upon yours for a moment. Your heart is going absolutely crazy in your chest, and you bring both your hands up to cup his face gently.

“I’ve wanted you since we met in that damn park, can you beat that?” You hum sweetly.

His eyes widen immensely, but then soften in a warm realisation. “Okay, I think you got me there. It’s been a couple of months though. Wow, the park? Really?”

You nod, and he lifts his hand to cover yours over his cheek. His eyes are swimming with a love so deep and profound, you just want to kiss him silly. “Yeah, I mean I don’t think I fully realised it until later on. I was happy to just keep that crazy good friendship of ours, but then I knew all along I was in deep,” you say candidly.

Jimin kisses you again long and hard. “Shit, I think I’m gonna say it. I love you. God I love you so, so much.”

You could almost cry at the heartfelt confession. His smile is blindingly bright, and his eyes are positively gleaming with happiness. You realise then that they weren’t tired anymore. Perhaps they hadn’t been for a while now.

“You saved me, (Y/n). You literally brought me out of a dark place I never thought I’d get to leave.”

“Stop you’re going to make me...”

‘I’m serious,” he murmurs, lifting your face with his thumb and forefinger to catch your overwhelmed expression.

You peck his cute little nose. “I know you are, and the same goes for you! You were always there when I needed you, Jim. I love you so fucking much, it hurts.”

He laughs airily, chest feeling light and fit to burst from your requited affections. He can’t believe that for once, this cruel world had decided to give him something nice for a change. He was … actually allowed to keep you?  

At the same time, you’re positively brimming with relief and pure bliss. You jerk forward and catch him in a needy kiss mid-laugh, silencing all your nerves and disbelief as he returns it passionately. You squeak in surprise when he lifts your body – with ease, you might add, thanks to his physique – to sit up on the edge of the pool.

He continues to trail his lips along your skin as you hold him tight, and you love the way he handles you so carefully as if you’ll break in his palms if he’s somehow too rough. You simply can’t wait to see his face when you tell him you like it that way.

As he moves to your neck, you snake your arms around him and drag your nails down his back sensually, needing to feel him against you to prove that this is happening, that this is real and not some kind of dream.

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he groans, nibbling at the juncture of your neck and sucking harshly at the skin there. The contrast of the cool droplets of water clinging to your body as they meet his hot languid tongue has you shivering all over.

You can’t get enough of his lips, and you’re all but suddenly finding out just how skilled he actually is with his mouth. Tiny lustful whimpers fall freely from your throat as his hands move from your neck down to your breasts, and when he begins to brush his fingertips over your nipples through the shirt and bra with a broken groan, you just about lose it.

“Jimin, I want to feel you,” you choke out, pulling him as close as the edge of the pool will allow. Thankfully, it’s shallow enough on his end that he can still reach up to your face, and you instantly take advantage of your height boost to wrap your legs around his body.

You tilt his chin upwards towards you with one finger and part your lips, instantly feeling his tongue slide fervently past them into your mouth. It’s such a forward and sultry manoeuvre that you lose yourself in the pure unadulterated heat of the moment. God, you’ve never been so turned on in your life.

His hands, which had fallen to brace himself on the concrete tiles on either side of your hips, now find purchase on your bare dripping wet thighs. You can’t suppress a shudder when he digs his fingers into those too, tracing circles with his thumbs to let you know where he’s going with this.

You pull away from his irresistible lips with a gasp. “What are you..?”

He smirks, mouth all swollen from your teeth and tongue, eyes pinning you down with a dark gaze full of salacious longing. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anything hotter, until he growls, “I wanna take you right here, right now,” with a lick of his lips and downward glance of his eyes.

You’re left speechless, and before you can muster up anything to say in response, he’s hooking his arms underneath your knees and parting your shaky thighs slowly. He angles you closer to the edge of the pool, and you want nothing more than to just be under him. “Oh God. Jimin we should go inside.”

He looks like he’s about to argue, but then a flurry of wild barking and panting causes both of you to whip your heads around. There stands the source of the noise in question, all covered in grass and weeds from romping around your yard, and it bounds incessantly around the towering pool fence.

He’s watching you both excitedly and demands your undivided attention with another yap. If you had to take a wild guess as to what the dog wanted, it would be that he wishes to join in with his family’s little ‘wrestling’ match rather than being locked outside in the lonely backyard. You and Jimin exchange a look.

“Yeah, not in front of Mandu.”

“Never in front of him.”

You both grab your towels and scamper inside like two horny teenagers, very naked and afraid, but still laughing the entire way at your predicament.

Safely within your walls and locked away from the innocence of animals, you pick up where you left off beside the pool. The haphazardly tossed pieces of wet clothing and damp footprints throughout the house are soon forgotten when Jimin gets you in between your sheets. It doesn’t take long for him to have you screaming his name well into the night, and you’re sure that by the end of it, his lips and tongue have touched almost every inch of your body.

That’s not to say you didn’t have a fair go at him too, because when you wake in the morning to turn and see your hickeys scattered across his bare neck and stomach, you swear you’ve never felt more satisfied in your life. Yes, he’d proven himself to be quite a little switch in the making, and you feel positively giddy at the prospect of getting so much more time with him to find out exactly where that might lead.

He was yours and you were his. Together, you had something truly marvellous.

He turns his head with a grunt and catches you admiring his sleeping form. The resulting dazzling smile that splits his face leaves you positively breathless, just as every other aspect about him does.

“Morning,” you both mumble at the same time, and while you scrunch your face up in an endeared cringe, Jimin just laughs sweetly at the clumsiness between you. He moves over to plant the softest of kisses to your forehead, and you cuddle into his side like it’s your designated space to reside until the end of time.

In lieu of the family-shaped hole you’d been carrying with you your whole life, there now appeared a Jimin-shaped puzzle piece slotting into place.

And with that, you could ask for nothing more.

 ~

~

 Somewhere in the distant night, a young man taps his finger on the steering wheel of his car as he speeds along the eerily quiet highway.

The late hour does nothing to deter him, and he fights back the drowsiness threatening to pull him under as the road falls away beneath the tyres. He’s been driving for hours, but he persists without rest and soldiers on, full of purpose. Every time he feels a shred of doubt begin to linger in his mind, he glances over to the wrinkled photo resting on his dashboard and the initial burst of vigour returns.

He runs a hand through his long, curly black hair and eyes the photo again. The smiling faces look back at him, and he immediately wonders for the millionth time if he truly is doing the right thing here. The turn-off sign whizzes by his car window, and he realises that now is his last chance to change his mind.

He can keep living a peaceful life if he just continues straight past without looking back, but there’s no way he can do that. He can’t fail his only remaining family any longer.

He veers for the turn-off, taking a deep breath and reaching forward to brush a finger against one of the smiling faces in the roughly crinkled photo. It’s final, he’s made his decision.

I’m coming home. 

.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵  

TO BE CONTINUED

Copyright © 2020 by salade. All rights reserved.

[cuddlecave]

I’m here often enough, I guess I could go ahead and make a sign off for anon too? 🐲

Anyway, I wanna explore tiny Ben some more. Like along with Ben’s other abilities that Gord knows, ben has some that Gord doesnt.

Like how when they’re upset, they find themselves at a smaller size. It’s just comforting to them, being smaller, even if it does make them vulnerable. Which leads to the reverse of their cuddle instinct, which they’ve had all along. They don’t bring this up to Gord, not the shrinking or the instinct. The first time Gord finds them tiny is a trip and a half because it’s very soon after they just respawned after the boss fight. Their first reunion, in fact.

Gord can’t bring himself to hurt Ben, even if he’s frustrated he treats the tiny with care and caution. The gentleness Ben received definitely didn’t help their feelings or their instinct. As they move in and get comfortable with Gord, they shrink more and more as they feel safe to do so. Sometimes they don’t even do it when they’re sad, but to play around.

One day, though, Ben finds themselves extremely upset. Past memories sneaking up on them, a wave of doubt and guilt, something that makes them upset and maybe even panicky. They don’t wanna bother Gord with it, especially not with what they really wanted, but they knew there was no calming down otherwise.

Gords concerned when he finds them, shaking and muffling distressed sweet voice, and he tries his best to comfort them, holding them to his chest and gently leading them through grounding exercises. It helps, but only slightly. Honestly, the most helpful thing to Ben at that point was Gord’s heartbeat right beside them. They wanted nothing more than to be inside, but how could they ask Gord that? He’d freak out.

Gord could tell, even with them calming down, something was still amiss. Maybe he wasn’t doing enough? He’s very soft about it when he pushes. “Ben, is there something I can do to help?”

They hesitate for a good moment or two, before nodding so slightly Gord had to really focus to see it. They weren’t looking at him, which was usually normal Ben behavior, but this felt different. Like out of fear or shame.

“What is it? I’m willing to help, you know.”

Another nod. “But you won’t like it.”

“I don’t have to like it. I’m trying to help you.”

They blink, looking up at him. For a while they just look at each other, Ben breaking the stare down with a small huff. “You could help if you eat me.” There, put out in the open with no way of mistaking what they said.

Gord blinks once, twice, speedrunning the five stages of grief as he processed the request.

Ben can’t die, he knows they can’t die. They can teleport and no clip, they won’t be trapped. They could shrink more if they were too big to swallow.

Literally, any excuse Gord could try to come up with fell flat immediately. All he could come up with was, “…why?”

“S just nice. Being close to someone you care about. Knowing they’ll keep you safe and warm.”

Oh, so this was probably like an alien thing. Well, Gord did say he was gonna help…

Ben had an expectant and pleasing look in their eyes, despite their usual neutral face. Gord sighed heavily. “Okay, we… we can try this.”

“Real shit? Gord care moments?”

“Yea, Gord care moments.” He rolled his eyes. “Okay, so how do we..”

“I don’t care either way, put me in or I’ll climb in.”

Gord wasn’t sure how he felt about the alien clambering around between his teeth so he took the initiative to put them in as far as he could without triggering his gag reflex. To his surprise, once they got adjusted, they stayed still. Mostly, he could barely pick up on their chest moving as they breathed, and… was.. that purring? Their torso was vibrating slightly.

Wow, this really did mean a lot to them. Something warm settled in Gord’s chest at the thought that Ben trusted him with this. Gord didn’t linger on the feeling of the body on his tongue long, gently licking at them to try and make it easier to swallow.

It didn’t take long before they were ready, and they found themselves looking at Gord’s throat while he tried to psyche himself up to swallow them. A lot of what ifs started bouncing around his mind, making static in his brain that he could swear he heard.

Along with a very faint, but a audibly sung low note, with a distinct taste of blue rasberry appearing at the back of his mouth. A small smile broke onto his face. He was supposed to be comforting Ben, not the other way around.

That thought in mind and with his throat muscles relaxed, it made swallowing them a lot easier. Didn’t make it any less weird on Gord’s behalf though, the tight pressure in his chest bordering on uncomfortable. Thankfully, Ben stayed still. He wasn’t sure how he’d react to a squirming mass sinking past his rib cage.

The trip was done all too soon for Gord to get used to that feeling, and now he could get used to the warm, slightly full feeling of Ben in his stomach. But first.. “are you okay?”

He couldn’t hear them, no possible way could he hear them through the layers of fat and muscle now separating them. But he could still hear their voice clear as day- in his mind, right. Ben could telepathically communicate.

“M good. Great, actually. Thanks for doing this.”

He was treated to slight moving- not squirming, and it didn’t really feel like they were moving around too much- oh. They’re snuggling up against the front of his stomach, where he’s absentmindedly placed his hand. Ben must have felt it. “Yea, no problem.”

Ben stopped after a while, settling down once more. “S it okay if I sleep? Won’t be in danger, promise.”

“Yea, that’s fine.” Gord kinda wanted to sleep too, honestly. But no, he couldn’t. He had to make sure Ben was alright, even if he knew by heart at this point that they would be. He resigned himself to a few hours on the couch playing on his phone while Ben caught some Zs.

That kinda turned into a little ficlet didn’t it lol, I just have feelings about small Ben, a complete role reversal from act 4. It’s a very interesting concept to me.

nice

[collarious]

lessons that i’ve learnt so far

I haven’t been on this space for a couple of years. Revisiting this space is like a step back into a part of my past self - the part that’s most anxious and depressed. When life got too difficult, I would leave traces of struggle in the form of words. Punching the ‘post’ button always felt so strange — it wasn’t cathartic, it never truly encapsulated what i felt, it didn’t exactly make things feel better — but at least those thoughts were out of the mind and contained in a space. 

Recently, I’ve rediscovered this space, reread my entries and realised how far I’ve come through the years. I guess I want to summarise the things that I’ve learnt so far, in this journey of life and hope to continue practising. Excuse the shabbily typed out brain dump. 1. Be humble, learn about yourself + the world

The brain is extremely tricky and stubborn. More often or not, we probably don’t know ourselves as much as we think we do. We tell ourselves narratives of who we are, especially when life is hard and we’re not feeling good.

Know yourself, in and out, through objective means. Cross-reference like crazy using personality tests (Attachment styles, MBTI, enneagram etc), horoscopes, ask your friends what they think of you. Constantly question: who am I really? 

Read and research repeatedly — read self-help + non fiction books / listen to talks + podcasts by renowned professionals that debunk your understanding of you and the world. I personally love watching Youtube vlogs of people I look up to - especially when I’m feeling down. The change in perspective is almost always refreshing.

From there, you can break the narratives that you tell yourself everyday. Knowledge is powerful, it keeps us humble and open. 

This journey of self-discovery has no end. But that’s the fun of it, because we are always changing as time goes. We’ve got to understand ourselves because no one else will do it for us. Truly understanding ourselves really is the first step to knowing what works for our lives.

2. Acknowledge your shortcomings, but celebrate everything As we learn about our strengths and weaknesses, there comes a point when we have to accept our shortcomings. Accept, then take action to improve on the things that we can. There’s going to be so much inertia at times - some days feel fine while others make you feel like you’re back to zero. 

Track your progress, celebrate the small wins. Encourage yourself constantly, be your biggest cheerleader. 

3. Your feelings are not you. Feelings come and they go.

Feel. Do not push away your feelings, even though they are so intense & you feel like you want to disappear. 

I find solace when I think of them as: 1) The sky. Yes, the weather changes, there are seasons. Rainy days, sunny days. But the blue sky can be there, at the core we are that beautiful calm sky. 2) The ocean. The waters are always different. Waves roll in as they roll out. Despite how the ocean behaves, you can’t help but think how beautiful and vast it is.

It’s so easy to attach yourself to intense feelings as they come, because you feel every ounce of it so deeply. The brain naturally attaches to painful feelings much easier than the good ones - its really our job to try to rewire its preference against negativity.

Fear, anxiety, sadness - they are real. But so is love, grit, resilience and all the wonderful emotions we have the pleasure to feel. 

4. Take good care of yourself. Find healthy coping mechanisms.

You are your biggest asset – believe it with all your heart. 

It can be really difficult — sometimes life feels so intense, there’s so much destructive energy, and a lot of times we take it out on ourselves if not on others. My question is — will you ever want the people you love to do the same thing, to suffer? No.

Instead of doing things that simply distract you, replace them with things that uplift you. There are things that are proven to work if you stick to them — journalling, working on what you love, exercising, meditating, hanging out with people who support you. Healthy coping mechanisms look different to everyone and they change over time - so find the things that help you feel better and hopeful about the future.

Taking care of yourself; no one is going to take that job and frankly, do we really want to pass that responsibility on to someone else? When we take care of ourselves, we then have the strength to tend towards those we love. 

5. Set boundaries

Boundaries. If only they taught that in school. 

Know your triggers. Set boundaries that protect you from your triggers. Communicate your boundaries, make sure to uphold them. Find people who respect your boundaries. 

Yes, there are some people who will shit on your boundaries, gaslight you blabla. Do not give them the power to affect your reality. Distance yourself if you can. Cut toxic people out of your life. If you can’t, try to do what’s within your means to not let them take away your energy.

We have a limited amount of energy in a day. More when we are having a good day, less when we wake up to a bad one. Where you place this energy, is where you choose your focus. Focus on the good, always.

6. Learn to plan

Some people are natural planners, but others are not due to their personality or the environment that they grew up in. It took me so many years to understand the power of planning, even more to learn how to do it. I’m still learning every day.

When you’re someone with emotions that come so intensely, planning takes a whole lot of stress off for your future self. Having a plan can also feel like hope. When the mind is depressed, at least there’s a routine to follow. Learn to plan the way that works for you + your life. Kickstart this by learning how other people plan (Youtube, I love you so much) & tweak it to your liking.

So many days when I felt like doing absolutely nothing. But doing absolutely nothing will only make you feel even more shit and its just a downward spiral.

Do the easy shit first, feel good about the easy shit, then do a slightly harder task and another and another. Remember to congratulate yourself always, even if that task is ‘eating a proper meal’. 

Oh yes, there are gonna be days when you can’t do anything even after planning .. when you absolutely can’t, don’t beat yourself up for it. Rest, recharge, try again.

7. Get up and learn

There’s going to be many bad days + failures. It’s life, we just got to accept that. But really what matters is getting up and learning from them. There’s always something positive to be learnt. A mistake not to be repeated. If your failures look similar, its life giving you the same lesson.

Getting up and learning is resilience, grit and humility. There’s nothing more romantic than this. 

8. You are not alone. Seek help.

We can do a lot, but sometimes there comes a point when we are just struggling way too hard. Ask for help. Reach out. A friend. A lover. A therapist.

You’ll find love and support in ways that you can’t imagine, plus the strength to live again, fuller + brighter.

9. The Breathe

It truly blew my mind when I learnt about the power of breath through yoga and meditation. When the mind is going absolutely batshit insane, don’t think - just breathe. There’s no point adding fuel to the fire. Breathing and being present in the moment - it recentres, grounds and resets.

Learn about the breath and how it affects you + the world around you. Sometimes — when I stop to properly breathe, I feel connected to the universe again. It’s simple but endlessly interesting.

That’s all I can remember for now. May peace and joy be part of your every day.

[hiswhiteknight]

Fighting with Fire – Part 3

Summary:  The Reader is friends with Erin Reagan, but absolutely hates one of her brother’s. After meeting Erin for a case, Reader meets Erin’s youngest brother. But due to her hatred of a certain Reagan, the Reader isn’t necessarily warm towards the youngest Reagan.

Pairing: Jamie Reagan X Fire Fighter Reader

Words: 1700

Warning: This chapter focuses around learning attack strategy, please be cautious if this can be difficult. I recommend watching Chelsea Kyann tutorials about self-defense. Also some cursing, eventual angst, eventual fluff

As much as it displeased you, it was nice to have a male volunteer. It was usually one of your brothers or one of the guys from the station. Usually they are pretty distracting for the ladies at first, but it was able to show them potential real-life scenarios. However, it did feel strange bossing a Reagan around. Eddie, Jamie, and a friend who was a fighting instructor for jujitsu named Chloe.

Chloe walked up to you, leaning in, “Well this is new, what a snack.”

You and her watched Eddie and Jamie chatted with a few regulars. You could tell it meant a lot to them both to build rapport with the community. It felt strange to not see a Reagan male not take up so much space and give off an ego, testosterone driven vibe. If his brother were in this space, he would show the woman he is a strong powerful male, who will protect and avenge their justice. Jamie vibe was a bit different and you couldn’t necessarily map it, which bothered the shit of you. Acknowledging Chloe’s statement, you made a vomiting sound in your mouth, “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

She looked at you strangely, straightening up and turning to look directly at you, “Something weird is going on.” She looked at you closer, Chloe had a psychology degree and loves to add her own analyses to things. Usually she only uses it to counselor some women after a bad trigger or if they want to open about a past trauma. Before she can pick your brain or poke you, you clap your hands heading towards the crew.

This caught Jamie’s reaction, as you ignored the mischievous look your friend is giving from behind you. He turned his body to face you, “What do you need boss?”

You shook you head, “Don’t call me that,” you point at him. You spend the time to give the group of women a greeting before directing instructions towards the pair, “So Eddie, I’d love for you to help pair women up and volunteer to be someone’s partner. Chloe usually floats because she is the true expert when it comes to fighting techniques.”

“Sounds great,” Eddie nodded.

Clearing your throat, you look at Jamie, “I don’t think I have to tell you, but most women in these classes had some bad experience with a man.” He nodded his head slightly, still listening, “I don’t let men come to this particular class to learn for a reason. Though usually a guy plays an especially important role in this class.”

Jamie looked excited, rubbing his hands together, “What is it?”

“My dummy,” you smirk. Eddie chuckled into her hand, trying to make it sound like a cough. You took a second to think about your feelings, a glow of satisfaction to be able to kick the crap of a Reagan and nervousness, though you couldn’t pin point why, “That’s not a problem is it?”

He shook his head, “Use me any way you need,” he tried not to smirk.

You look him up and down, looking unamused by his comment, “Stay hydrated, I don’t need you passing out,” you said walking away to prep your resources and workspace.

Eddie tapped him on the chest, “Real smooth Romeo.”

He looked down at her, before glancing back towards you, “I think I got a chance.”

Straightening up to look at him directly, she wore an amused look at her face, “That woman is going to eat you alive.”

 You had all the women pair up and explained the boundaries and expectations of the class, like not pushing themselves and taking a break if they feel overwhelmed or exhausted. It’s a rousing speech about the realities of being a woman and how to be a community. You introduced your volunteers before instructing each of them to discuss their comfortability level with their partners, as well a little about themselves. This gave you time to look at Jamie to explain some of the movies and what he should do, “You got to make it real,” you say to him. “Don’t be gentle, don’t hold back, the best these women can learn is if they see what it’ll possibly look like in real life if it happens.”

“If I were to hold back, it would be because I know you can kick my ass,” he whispered down to you, “But I get your point.” He looked around to the women talking, “You did quite a thing here, I wish we had a program like this.”

You blinked a few times, looking taken back. You never anticipated hearing something nice from a Reagan, well at least a young Reagan, “Thank you.” You instructed the women to wrap it up to start the officially lesson.

Jamie noticed how you got flustered after his compliment. He decided to break whatever tension you were feeling, “Should we have like a safe word?”

You smirk, not looking at him, “Just tap out Reagan, give me a few taps.”

 You hated to say it, but Jamie was a great asset. As you taught the class about getting attacked in different scenarios, from the front, the back, with a weapon, etc, he was patient with you tossing him around and hurting him in various ways. He and Eddie were able to add some insight from the police perspective. And he was extremely good at complimenting and empowering the woman. Honestly, outside of enjoying beating up on a Reagan, he was a great member of the team.

This was the last exercise of the day, where the attack gets them on the ground. This was the first time Jamie seemed hesitant, “Well let’s go dummy,” a few woman chuckle.

Taking a deep breath, Jamie gets on top of you and you start your instructions, like how to use your legs, how to protect your body, different ways to use your own weight as your weapon. Your favorite instruction dealt with using the attacker’s shirt as your weapon. It didn’t have to do with as much strength as it was strategy. Jamie rapidly tap at your waist, you let go and bounced up before instructing the pairs to try. Jamie finally caught his breath stepping up to you, “I wish Danny knew who scary you were.”

You let a laugh leave your mouth while watching some pairs. You give him one more smile before walking away to give some individual tips.

 After some talking with some of the students and cleaning up, Chloe and Eddie were talking about the next lesson when Jamie approached you, “This was really great, I hope you keep me in mind to help even if I’m a Reagan.”

You look away from the brochures in your hands, “The jury is still out on you, but I’m getting a vibe you are different from your brothers.” You put rest of the stuff in your resource box, “Thank you for your help, you are always welcomed.” Jamie was about to say something, “But don’t think for a second I’m letting my guard down, this might be a ploy from Danny about getting in my head. I’ve got my eyes on you and him.”

He put up his hands defensively, “If that was ever a plan, I would never start something with you after what I learned today.”

You jabbed at him, “And that is just the tip of the iceberg there sparky, spread the word don’t mess with Y/N Y/L/N.”

Shaking his head, fighting this feeling on intrigue he has about you, “I will definitely spread the word of your power to all who can hear, mainly Danny.” You smirk holding your box, waving to Chloe as she headed out, “Look Eddie and I are grabbing a beer, would you want to join us?”

Eddie was casually looking at you both from the stairs. You were taken back for a second, “Oh, I’m sorry. I just got done working a 48-hour shift, I’m dead on my feet. But thank you, like for everything.”

“My pleasure, really and maybe next time,” he started to walk you towards the entrance, meeting up with Eddie, “You wouldn’t want to walk us to our car, would you,” he joked at you.

You genuinely laughed, shaking your head. You plopped your box in you back seat before looking at him. Eddie tried to stop her scoff of his response. He surprised you differently from any other Reagan including his sister and father, “I don’t believe that in necessary, I felt all that muscle you got underneath there,” you point towards his clothing. “Plus, you’ve got Eddie I know she saves you all the time from humiliation, attackers, etc.”

“She’s got that right,” she pointed at you, “Bye Y/N.”

Jamie started to walk backwards in the direction of Eddie, “I’ll see you later Y/N.”

“Take your time,” you smile back at him, “I’ve had my monthly fill of Reagan males.”

You got in your car, starting it up, and driving off. Something was different and you didn’t take the time to acknowledge your physical attraction to the younger Reagan. It was easy to distract your thoughts when teaching self-defense, but now all you could think about was Jamie’s body and how it felt around you.

 Eddie teased Jamie some more about the interaction between the two of you, “Hey man, you’re making waves. This time she didn’t show her teeth and she acknowledged your assets,” she gestured to his body.

He rolled his eyes, “Shut up.” He drank some of his beer, “I’m not crazy right, you see the chemistry?”

“Oh no, you’re crazy,” she commented. “But I do like to watch you try to be charming and epically get torn apart by her,” she added.

He shook his head thinking about you, you had a good feeling and it had nothing to do with hate, “Whatever, I am charming.”

Eddie scoffed before getting distracted by a game on a tv.

Taglist: @screeching-student-unknown

[hypmic-writings]

hi! can i have some hcs for hifumi, doppo and gentaro comforting a s/o with anxiety? thank you so much!

I’m not too familiar with symptoms and treatment for anxiety, but I hope this was what you wanted. Enjoy~

Trigger Warning: Anxiety

 --

Hifumi:

I strongly believe that even though Hifumi has bad gynophobia, you and he would work on it together through the relationship

you would make small steps to slowly break down his barriers

and he would trust and love you for it

so of course, if you have bad anxiety, Hifumi is going to want to help you too

whenever you get nervous or scared around people

Hifumi will take you in his arms and lead you over to a secluded area in the room

he won’t mind leaving a party early 

or going with you anywhere you need him

because he just wants to make sure you’re comfortable

when you first started having anxiety attacks, he probably freaked out

and it would have been really bad 

and ended with the two of you just sitting and crying together

but Hifumi will make it a point to discuss all of the details of anxiety with Jakurai

in fact he makes it a point to always ask Jakurai any questions he has 

and so over time, he’s going to find a better way to help you

so he’ll be pretty prepared now whenever you have anxiety attacks

and he’ll count your breathing with you while holding your hands in his own

if you want to have him as your grounding point, he would be more than happy to hold you in his arms 

if not, he’ll simply sit across from you and help walk you through your attack

Doppo:

When you first tell Doppo you have anxiety he’s going to be terrified

Since he has a lot of his own anxiety, he’ll kick himself

and think that he won’t be good enough to help you since he can barely help himself

but they you’ll sit him down and talk it through

and you’ll both agree to try your best to be each other’s anchors

so whenever you see Doppo beginning to spiral

you’ll make it a point to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder

or a small kiss on the cheek

just to let him know that you’re there

and slowly bring him back to a calmer state

and whenever you’re having an anxiety attack

he’ll work to do the same - trying extra hard to keep an eye on you in stressful situations

making it a point to try his best in remaining calm while helping you

100% goes to Jakurai for help, just like Hifumi would

he would want you to go together so that you could both talk with Jakurai about different grounding techniques

or deep breathing exercises 

at the end of the day, he’s not going to be the most confident about it

but he’ll try his best to help you through your anxiety

because he knows what you’re going through and how bad it can feel

and he would never want you to hurt any more than possible

he’s definitely going to apologize after one of your attacks

so you’ll just have to make sure he knows that they’re not his fault

and keep giving him confirmation and support that he’s being helpful to you

Gentaro:

Gentaro is normally a pretty calm person which is extremely helpful for your anxiety

he’s also an extremely intuitive person 

(as shown by how quickly he can suss out Ramuda)

so he can usually tell whenever you’re feeling anxious or when an attack is about to happen

in those cases, he’ll usually pull you away from whatever situation is at hand if possible

or if you’re in a public area and can’t get away, he’ll hold your hand in your own

either way he’s going to slowly and calmly walk you through your breathing techniques 

speaking in his soft, soothing voice and telling you that it’ll pass soon 

he might help you find a focus item that’s small and that he can easily carry around 

that way he can always have a way to help you on hand

he’d probably look up some books to make sure he knows more about what you’re going through

and will spend days reading through them to make sure he’s able to help you as much as he can

afterwards, if you’re feeling sad or breathless he’s going to pull you into his arms

and whisper sweet nothings in your ear

until your heart is back to beating at a slow, usual place

Gentaro will never push you to talk about your anxiety

but if you ever want to talk freely, he’ll always make sure to be there to listen