#i have been having a low grade anxiety attack for two days now and i don’t know how to stop it

[starbuck]

having one of those Times where on one hand everything is completely fine but, on the other hand, i am drowning and there’s so much to do and i’m at my wit’s end and AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[meatballdonut]

Let's Go Home: Eddie Munson X Shy! Reader

Summary: the reader never really spoke and tried not to bring attention to herself, but when Dustin says something stupid at lunch she managed to bring unwanted attention her way.

Warnings: Social Anxiety, Panic attack, Low self-esteem, tiny little bit of violence, brief mention of decapitation, I think that's it.

Pairing: Eddie Munson X reader

Word count: 1,620

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You and Eddie have been friends since middle school, and like Eddie, school is not your strong suit. You never really cared though, because as long as you had Eddie with you school was bearable.

When you and Eddie first met, you were placed in the same music class in 7th grade. You never talked to anyone and you tried to avoid being noticed. Despite your efforts, Eddie did notice you. He would talk to you every day without actually getting a response from you as you tried to ignore him and focus on the assignments given. As time went on, he got more and more comfortable with your "talking" arrangement. He knew you were incredibly shy and got anxious when there was too much interaction between you and other people. He would leave notes in your instrument case just to get a smile out of you. Your favorite being "toot toot goes the floot" even though he knew damn well you didn't play the flute. You keep that note with you every day, along with some others that you kept at home.

You would eventually begin speaking small words and phrases to Eddie, which made him flash you the biggest smile you'd ever seen. He was happy you were starting to be comfortable talking to him, even if it was small.

It is now your senior year in high school, and you've developed the biggest crush you could imagine on the "freak" of Hawkins. Of course, you didn't tell him that, opting to keep the safety of keeping things the way they were. Things had changed drastically between the two of you compared to how things were when you first met. Sometimes you can't help but find yourself babbling on and on about things that you don't even know interest Eddie. This led Eddie to fall even more for you, not just because you were okay with being seen with him despite his reputation, but because he was one of the only people with who you were comfortable talking for long periods of time.

You sat with the Hellfire group at lunch listening to them talk about their campaign, things relating to DND, and other nonsensical things. Your favorite topic of today is the life-threating animal that would surely bring fear into everyone's hearts - a goose. You could help but snort at the accusation thrown out by Dustin. which led to everyone's eyes landing on you. this wasn't the first time everyone's focus had been placed on you so it wasnt too out of the ordinary, but lucky you, Jason happened to be walking nearby and heard you laugh.

"Didn't know you liked to hang out with barn animals freak" You hunched over trying to move the focus to anyone other than yourself. . Eddie being Eddie noticed your immediate discomfort but didn't know how to diffuse the situation. "Oh, so the piggy and the freak can't speak?" You weren't big, but you had a poor self-image and the comment went straight to your head. You could feel the tears start to build up in your eyes and your heart rate slightly began to increase. you didn't notice the insults being thrown back and forth between Eddie and Jason until Eddie called him the freak, which for some reason struck a nerve with Jason, which quickly led to them yelling loud enough for everyone in the cafeteria to give the argument all of their attention.

You tried to walk away, which everyone at the Hellfire table understood but Jason and his goons couldn't understand why you were walking away and decided to go after you while Jason and Eddie had their cat fight. "Oink Oink-where ya' going freak lover - Oink Oink" "Awwww piggy going back to the farm" As you made your way to the door two of the basketball players stood in front of the doors to block your escape. "P-please move" Your voice came out quiet and small. when you spoke you didn't dare look at them, knowing they would see your distressed state and that would only add fuel to the fire. "sorry we couldn't hear you, you're gonna have to repeat yourself" you tried to re-create your previous request, but you couldn't muster up the courage to get any words out. As you stood there, you could feel their eyes drilling holes into you, making it even more difficult to speak or move. After a few seconds they got bored of the silence, and the little effort you made to try and get passed them.

Suddenly, with a forceful shove, you were on the ground looking up at them. Tears streaming down your face from the comments that didn't stop coming, the argument happening between Jason and Eddie, and the confrontation happening between you and the two basketball players whose names you'd never bothered to learn. When you landed on the ground, that seemed to be what finally got Eddie's attention back on you. He could see your demeanor, how you slowly sat back up, avoiding anyone's gaze, and your breathing begins to quicken. He knew what was about to happen before you did. He quickly walked away from Jason, leaving him confused at the abrupt end of their argument about social status, and made his way over to you. Shoving anyone in the way and glaring at anyone who tried to stop him. He helped you up, grabbed your books, and began to lead you out of the cafeteria not noticing the two jocks standing in front of the door with mischievous grins on their faces. "Move" His voice coming out the complete opposite of yours, strong and unwavering. Your anxiety growing, and Eddies form protecting yours he quickly pushed pasted the two men and led you out. What seemed to be the end of the entire ordeal finally led to your break. You couldn't seem to catch your breath, your heart was beating out of your chest to a different unknown location, and your thoughts going a million miles an hour but at the same time they were blank.

Eddie pulled you into a tight embrace to try and distract you from the previous events. He was well versed with your anxiety, knowing exactly what to do and when to do it. " you gotta breathe sweetheart" his words were in direct contrast to how he had spoken to the men, he was quiet and relaxed. Your breathing had gotten no slower, you couldn't get enough air in. "shhh I've got ya, I'm right here" He started rocking the two of you back and forth in an attempt of shifting your focus to your movement which almost worked but not enough to bring you out of your head. You started to feel dizzy from the lack of air going into your body, and as if he was psychic, he could sense that you we starting to feel that way.

"Baby please breathe, match my breathing if you have to just please breathe" He had never called you baby before, the small comment was just enough to bring you out of your headspace and match his breathing just like he had said. slowly but surely, you had managed to get your breathing back under control. "good job sweetheart, good job" As you looked up in the attempt to say thank you you couldn't get the words out, exhausted from the ordeal, all you could do was lay your head back on Eddie's chest and sigh. He knew you were grateful but he never expected a thank you. To be completely honest, he liked being the one there for you, he liked being the only person you would let hold you like this. We started rubbing small circles on your back to let you know that he understood what you were trying to communicate.

You both sat there in silence for a bit, neither one wanting to let go, but soon enough the lunch bell rang signaling that everyone who was in the cafeteria was soon to be rushing out the doors. Eddie stood you and himself up and began to walk out towards the doors of the school "Let's go home sweetheart" Eddie knew you weren't one for skipping school, but the fact the he was leading you out by your hand left little room for protest.

The ride home was quiet, the only noise was the quiet hum of his van and the music that was almost silent in the background. You sat there thinking about how he was there for you- just like he always was. You thought about how he called you baby and how right it sounded when it was directed towards you. you were so engulfed by your thoughts you didn't even realize you had made it back to Eddie's trailer.

He led you in and gave you comfortable clothes to wear, including one of his favorite band shirts. "I vote we watch horror movies for the rest of the day and every time someone dies, we pretend it's Jason," He said with a shit-eating grin on his face. you let out a subtle laugh.

"Eddie, I love you" the second half of your statement seemed to get lost but Eddie always heard you no matter how small your voice was.

"I love you too princess, I love you too"

for the rest of the night, you and Eddie did pretend that everyone who died was Jason, which was even funnier when a character was decapitated and their head was thrown into a literal laundry basket, leaving the both of you a hysterical mess. This is how you wanted the rest of your life to be. An Eddie felt the same

[animeniacss]

Seoksoo - imperfect Part 1 - Chapter 6 - A Lot to Unpack

Synopsis: Lee Seokmin likes a lot of things: karaoke, stuffed animals, his friends, his family (when they're not at each other's throats), and when things go according to plan. It's perfect that way. That is...until Joshua Hong, the Education Department TA, stumbles into his view one day and suddenly Seokmin has to start facing the fact that maybe not everything in life will be perfect...but with Joshua, that might just be ok.

Tags: College!AU, ActingMajor!Seokmin, Teacher!Joshua, Romance, Angst, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, Side GyuCheol, Side JunHao, Side Verkwan, Other Idol appearances, Anxiety/Panic Attacks, Domestic Violence (not between the main couple), Joshua is a dork 90% of the time, (More Tags will be Added as needed)

Length: approx. 6.1k words

Chapter 6 - A Lot to Unpack

Midterms are the worst. Whichever sick individual thought that it was a good idea to slam multiple tests worth a significant part of your overall grade right before the holidays, was a cruel human. Seokmin liked most people he spoke to, but he did not like this human, and based on the dead-eyes of his friends around the table, they didn’t either.

“I hate this.” Seungkwan groaned.

“Preach.” Mingyu typed away on his laptop. “How the hell am I supposed to write an entire data plan on a student I only have 3 lines of information on? In reality, I would have a whole full human to work with.” Mingyu groaned. 

“I have that one ready to submit,” Seungkwan said. “It’s the week-long lessons for Effective Lesson Planning that is going to make me pop a fucking blood vessel.” Mingyu nodded in agreement. 

“I haven’t even started that one. The last time I opened the document, I wanted to chew on glass.” Seokmin and Junhui chuckled from behind their own textbooks. 

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Junhui commented, eyeing the two flustered men on the other end of the table. “Can’t they color or something?”

“Tch, no.” Seungkwan rolled his eyes. “As much as I would like to just write that. Each day has to have its own 4-page paper explaining each part and the lesson plan itself is at least 3 pages once you finish writing everything.”

“And you have to do that in each subject?” Seokmin asked.

“No!” Seungkwan only got more fired up. “I asked like 3 people who actually are teachers, and they tell me the plans they have to write are maybe a page at most.”

“Wow.”

“My cousin says she writes her plans on a fucking sticky note before class starts each morning.” Seokmin snorted at Mingyu’s comment, but he didn’t look amused.

“Why are you yelling?” A voice called from the other hall, and the group of boys looked up to see Seungcheol stagger into view. He had his video gaming headset on still, one tucked behind his ear so he could hear. Mingyu groaned, falling onto his back and glancing up as his boyfriend approached, bending at the hips to peer down at the larger college student. 

“I want to quit school, Cheolie...” Mingyu said.

“No.” Seungcheol didn’t seem phased, as it seemed like something Mingyu said often. “You’re almost done.”

“Yeah, with school. I’m dropping out to be a stripper.”

Seungcheol’s eyes widened, Seokmin immediately catching the intrigued glint in his eyes. “Oh?” Mingyu nodded, his grin widening as Seungcheol fell to a squatting position, his face still just hovering over Mingyu’s. “I thought I was the only one you moved your hips for, Gyu~.” His voice was low and husky, which earned a hum of intrigue from Mingyu.

“Well, only when you ask nicely, Hyungieeee….” His comment made Seungcheol cover his face, laughing into his hands at the nickname that has now most likely been reserved for behind closed doors. Seokmin caught a glimpse of rosy cheeks behind his hands, Mingyu’s laughter only continuing, ripping from the belly. He immediately sat upright once again, only to be pulled into a large back hug from Seungcheol. Like one of those little wooden shaped toys for children, Mingyu fit perfectly into his embrace as if he were always expected to be there, grinning as Seungcheol peppered his cheek with kisses. Seokmin couldn’t help but hide his little grin as he looked down at his papers once more. He just loved love, especially the love his best friend seemed to share. 

“Besides-.” Seungcheol added, nestling into the other’s neck. “If you want to put on a show, just-.”

“OH FUCKING GOD, EW!” Seungkwan gasped. “Could you please get a fucking room!?”

“This is my house!” Seungcheol snapped, glaring at Seungkwan. “I won’t let you come over here and watch Music Bank on the big TV anymore if you keep running your mouth!”

Seungkwan gasped. “You fucking wouldn’t.”

“I can and I fucking will!” By now, Mingyu, Junhui and Seokmin were in stitches, Seokmin clapping his hands and laughing as he leaned into a snickering Junhui. 

With the option of stripping shelved for later conversation, Mingyu tilted his head back to face an irritated Seungcheol. He used his hand to take the other's jaw, gently guiding his gaze back. “Then will you go take my midterms in my place? I promise I’ll cook dinner for a month.”

Seungcheol grinned, forgetting about his threat to Seungkwan when Mingyu was back in the forefront of his view.. “You trust me that much?”

“He never said that.” Junhui snickered when Seungcheol now shot him an annoyed glare. Seokmin smiled, watching as Seungcheol sat Mingyu back up and put a little kiss on his head, which left the big puppy dog of a man grinning in content.

“Hopefully that’ll be enough to get you through it. I didn’t drop out of college to take someone else’s exams.”

“Kaaay.” Mingyu called, still riding the little high that Seungcheol’s kiss left in its wake. He chuckled, ruffling the short, black hair on his boyfriend’s head. 

“Get back to it.” he encouraged, before heading back to continue gaming, leaving the rest of them with their studies. 

“You both are disgusting,” Seungkwan commented, and Seokmin snickered when Mingyu was shot a very well-known side eye from Seungkwan. The taller of the two only shrugged.

“I’ll make sure to say that when you and Chwe Hansol are all lovey-dovey in a few weeks.” 

Seungkwan’s carefully planned rebuttal? Shove the straw of the iced americano into his mouth and shut the fuck up, a move that leaves a triumphant grin on Mingyu’s face. He turned back to his open document on his computer, his smile finally fading as he continued to type.

Seokmin glanced between the trio around him, all of whom were in very committed relationships or slated to be before the end of the term if things went right. Mingyu and Seungcheol had been dating for about a year already, Seungkwan was pursuing things with Hansol, and Junhui was living a pretty domestic relationship with another Chinese transfer student, Minghao. While they never confirmed their relationship to others, Seokmin did notice Junhui stopped flirting or even entertaining the idea right after Minghao moved into his apartment as a roommate. That just left Seokmin, a seventh wheel on a very long bus, placed right in the middle of the other wheels because that meant he was able to keep them all balanced, keep one from falling off and sending the bus toppling down a cliff. He was good at that.

“Seokminnie won’t be too far behind, I’m sure.” The teasing tone in Junhui’s voice made his eyes dart to the smirking male beside him. “Double the couples in the honeymoon phase. Great.” Mingyu snorted, eyes still glued to his computer screen as his fingers typed away.

“What?” Seokmin asked, putting a hand on his cheek to make sure it wasn’t heating up – it was.

“You and Joshua Hong?” Junhui asked. “Have you spoken to him since the audition?”

“Once or twice, but he said he was busy with midterms. I haven’t heard from him in a few days.” Seokmin remembered the last text the duo shared; three days prior while Seokmin was sitting waiting for class to begin. It was a reassurance text about their lunch plans once midterms came to an end, a reminder to pick any place that Seokmin’s little heart desired. A white heart and a sticker wishing him luck in his studies was all Seokmin sent back, and by the time he felt like that wasn’t nearly enough of a proper response, a few hours had passed and Seokmin didn’t want to be a double texter. He was working very hard to avoid that.

“He’s been leaving class really early these past few weeks.” Seungkwan said, Mingyu nodding in agreement. “Like he doesn’t even stay behind to talk to kids anymore. He passes back papers, packs up, and books it out of the room before the professor even gets up from his seat.”

“He’s probably really busy. I couldn’t imagine being the TA of one of the hardest professors in the Education Department and working on your own senior classes. I envy the people who can do that.” The group nodded in agreement with Junhui’s comment, and the room finally fell back into silence, all of them back to studying their own respective midterm study guides or working on their mid-year projects. 

Distracted by the silence, Seokmin glanced at his phone, seeing no new messages staring back at him. A cheek rested in his hand, distracted fingers fiddling with the messages. He kept scrolling them down, hoping that another message would pop up in his inbox. No luck, instead just an old message thread. Two-day-old messages that reminded Seokmin he needed to start looking for restaurants because he would be damned if he went into making plans with someone without being prepared.

Seokmin didn’t hear from Joshua the entire week of midterms, but he was too busy focused on his own to care. He spent his weekend hunched over his desk, working tirelessly to make sure he was prepared. Finally, midterms came. As Seokmin headed to his first class of the week, he had gotten several texts from his mother and sister wishing him luck – plus another from his sister asking him to tell Mom to get off her back, but he didn’t read the entire message before heading into class. As he sat down, he reopened Joshua’s text messages, now four days old, and texted him one more time wishing him luck for the upcoming week.

He didn’t get an answer for another 5 days.

⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔(im)perfect🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌

         [Joshua] (now): How did the midterms go? Thank goodness they’re over!

         That was the first text in an entire school week, sent to his inbox Friday evening while Seokmin was on his way back home. He looked down at the message, before showing it to Seungkwan, who was resting on his shoulder and babbling about plans for the entire friend group to go out and celebrate over the weekend.

         “What are you going to say?” Seungkwan asked, eyeing up the older of the two. Seokmin shrugged.

         “No idea.” He admitted. He was stunned Joshua really did message him right after the midterms came to an end. He stared at the message before his fingers began to type.

         Were you really off your phone for an entire five… backspace? Do you actually care??? Delete! I’m glad to hear from you! I was scared you weren’t going to text me… Backspace.

         [Seokmin] (just now): They were fine. You?

         He set his phone on his lap screen down, looking out the window of the bus as the world before him passed by. “Are you still going to go out with him?”

         “I don’t know.” Seokmin hummed. “He might not still want to. He could have forgotten with how busy he’s been…”

         “It’s been like a week. He’d really have to try if he wanted to forget.” Seokmin nodded, though he wouldn’t be surprised if Joshua forgot. However, when his phone beeped again, he looked down and saw another message.

         [Joshua] (now): Exhausting, but good! I’m glad to be done.

         [Joshua] (now): Did you decide on a restaurant? I’m not scheduling anything this entire weekend until we make plans first!

         Seungkwan seemed to catch Seokmin’s growing smile, because he pushed himself closer to his friend and tried to peer down to his messages. “What has you all smiley, Hyung?” he asked in a sing-song voice. Seokmin held the phone close to his chest, all the confirmation Seungkwan needed. “Mmmmm, I see. You have a date, hm?”

         “It’s not a date.” Seokmin said. Seungkwan only laughed more.

         “Yeah…right.” He snickered. Seokmin looked back down at the phone messages.

         “I’ll ask someone who has dating experience if this is a date, thank you.” Seokmin smirked down at Seungkwan as his eyes went wide.

         “OW!” He gasped, hands over his heart in shock. “Jeez, Seokmin, you’re vicious!”

         Seokmin laughed, muttering a quick: “Kidding!” As Seungkwan nudged him. He looked back down at his phone, pulling up the messages to Joshua and planning for tomorrow evening. It took until the next bus stop, but Joshua responded with a thumbs up and Seokmin finally felt excited again.

⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔(im)perfect🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌

         “What do you mean ‘it’s not a date?!” Mingyu leaned forward in his chair, staring into the Facetime camera. Seokmin had propped him up on his end table with support of his lamp while he was busy looking through clothes in his closet.

         “That’s what I said!” Seungkwan said, cross-legged on Seokmin’s bed as he watched his friend. Seokmin turned to Facetime, seeing his best friend’s furrowed brow.

         “It’s just lunch. He never said it was a date.”

         “Well, yeah. But you’ve had plans to go out to lunch – which Hyung said could be expensive. Just the two of you, on a weekend.”

         “…Right.” Seokmin pulled out a black and white striped button up, motioning it to Seungkwan. He immediately shook his head, so it was shoved back into the closet.

         “…Cheol!” Mingyu called, head tilting from frame for a second. Seokmin looked back over at the camera as Mingyu pulled his boyfriend into frame. “Is Seokminnie going on a date?”

         “With Joshua!? Seokmin, that's great!” Seungcheol offered a wide grin. “I knew it would happen.”

         “It’s not a date.” Seokmin whined, and on the other end of the line the couple began laughing. “…Is it?”

         “It is.” Seungkwan nodded

         “How would you know?!” Seungcheol called, making Mingyu laugh more.

         “Why is everyone being so cruel to me today?” Seungkwan’s comment made Seokmin look over at him, mind flooding with the joke he made from the bus. Did he not take it as a joke? Seungkwan was grinning as he eyed the older males on the other side of the camera.

         “Alright, alright, go make out, you disgusting gremlins.” Seungkwan called, leaning forward. Mingyu and Seungcheol called out their goodbyes before the call was disconnected. Seungkwan sighed, setting the phone back down. “They’re so annoying.” He snorted.

         “I was kidding before when I said that.” Seokmin turned to his friend, who glanced up at him from the bed. “On the bus. About the dating experience.” Seungkwan chuckled.

         “I know.” He said. “It was pretty funny, too.” Seokmin sighed in relief. “Now, what else do you have for this date? We need to make you actually look good.” Seokmin’s lips dipped in a frown, but Seungkwan shrugged innocently. “It was a joke~.” He cooed.

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         Seokmin gave Joshua the name of the restaurant Friday night, a twenty-minute bus ride from his house. It was a nice lunch spot that Seokmin had been dying to go to since it opened the previous summer, rave reviews from friends on his socials only encouraging him more. He had no reason, until now. It wasn’t too expensive, despite Joshua’s requests, but it looked like a really good place. He checked the time. They had agreed to meet at noon, Seokmin arriving by 11:40 to make sure they could get a table as soon as possible and avoid a longer wait. He had spent the night before mentally planning his entire arrival. Get up at 6, shower by 7, eat breakfast and get dressed by 8, facial routine by 9, pre-screen the menu and decide he wants a buffalo chicken wrap and fries by 9:30, mental breakdown at 10 with support of Seungkwan in the form of a water, and at the bus stop by 11 to make it to the restaurant by 11:30 and get a table secured by noon. Foolproof. 

Seokmin didn’t feel his nerves come down from the panic attack until the kind woman at the front of the restaurant told him it would be another 10 minutes until a table opened, so he waited outside on a bench, scanning for Joshua’s arrival. He was early, but he couldn’t help but feel anxious as the minutes ticked that Joshua would be late again. Three strikes and you’re out, right? Isn’t that the term in baseball? He looked down at his watch. 11:50. Still no table, still no Joshua. He looked back at the restaurant as a few groups of people shuffled out, chatting about how full they were or how delicious their meal was. Seokmin looked back at his lap, lips pursed together until his name was called, lifting his head up.

         “Seokmin!” Joshua came hurrying down the street, grinning as Seokmin entered his line of sight. He waved, his running slowing to a jog as he got closer to the bench. Seokmin felt his nerves dissolve into nothing as Joshua got closer, holding back the full extent of his grin as he sat up a little straighter. Joshua, pace slowing to a stop, immediately checked his watch. “11:53. Perfect. I was aiming for 11:55.” He grinned. Seokmin stood up and slipped his phone into his back pocket. “Did you wait long?”

         “No. I got here ten minutes ago and put our name in. It shouldn’t be much longer; do you want to wait inside?” Joshua nodded, and the duo made their way inside. Seokmin dragged behind just a second so he could admire Joshua’s outfit. Both of them seemed to acknowledge the windy spring day upon them, the option for wearing long-sleeves shirts. Joshua’s was a neutral cream while Seokmin sported a light pink sweater. Both opted for jeans and sneakers. Joshua’s hair was still as wavy and beautiful as ever, the caramel locks lightening a bit in the sunlight. Seokmin wondered why Joshua wasn’t a model. He watched Joshua pull open the door, stepping aside and motioning for Seokmin to head in first.

         Seokmin couldn’t help but chuckle. “Very gentlemanly.” He commented. Joshua shrugged.

         “My mom taught me it’s polite.”

         “The same mom with the ‘housewarming gift rule?”

         Joshua slipped in behind him, letting the door close behind them as he grinned. “The very same.”

         “She’s smart.” Seokmin nodded. As the duo headed inside, the wait had significantly decreased, and it wasn’t long before they were seated. “Did she also say you should pull out someone’s seat?”

         Joshua snorted. “Alright, you’re pushing it.” he earned a laugh from Seokmin. However, Joshua immediately stopped in front of Seokmin, pulling out the chair he was going to sit on. “But yes.”

         Seokmin settled into the seat and watched Joshua do the same across from him. He smiled, arms crossed over his chest. “I’m glad to see you looking happy,” Joshua said. Seokmin’s lips dipped just a bit. “The last time I saw you in person, you weren’t. That, and not really talking during midterms, I was worried it would be awkward today. For a few minutes, I wondered if you would even show up at all. Not that I don’t deserve that.”

         Seokmin had to admit he worried about the same thing, hence that breakdown in his living room at 10 o’clock….

----two hours prior----

“I can’t do this. I can’t do this! I cannot do this, Seungkwan!” Seokmin screamed into balled up fists. “I’m going to make a fool of myself, I know it!”

 “Seokminnie…” Seungkwan hummed, leaning over the back of the couch with a cool water in hand. He had been at this for the past 20 minutes, a complete break down after looking himself over in the mirror and hoping he looked good enough. “Here. Drink something and calm down.”

“What if he doesn’t show? What if he doesn’t show up again and I look like an idiot waiting for a table for two?”

“Then I’ll meet you for lunch instead.” Seungkwan smiled. Seokmin hiccupped, a string of whimpers trying to disguise themselves as breaths trickling from his lips. “Now, please drink something. You’ll make yourself sick.” Finally, if only because he knew his friend wouldn’t stop pestering him, Seokmin pulled his hands from his eyes, soaked with tears that pooled there. Seungkwan pushed the water closer to him and he finally took it into his hands, uncapping it and swallowing it all in one gulp to the point where he coughed after pulling it from his lips. “There.” He chuckled. “Better?” Seokmin nodded, setting the empty bottle on the floor. After a second to catch his breath, he numbly rolled onto his side and picked the bottle up, Seungkwan extending his hand. “I’ll throw it out.” His voice was gentle as he took the plastic. “Do you want to go?” Seungkwan was mostly a sarcastic kid, but he was gentle and caring when it counted, and now is a time that it really counted. 

“Yes.” Seokmin choked.

“Then go. Three strikes and you’re out, right? If something happens then that’s it. Drop him. And I’ll make sure to give him lots of dirty looks the rest of the term.” Seokmin coughed out a little laugh, but it didn’t stop him from gasping out shallow breaths, the pain in his chest making his eyes continue to pool with tears. “Seokminnie.” Seungkwan’s hand dropped down and rubbed Seokmin’s arm, but he immediately retracted from the touch, and Seungkwan knew not to press further. The duo stood in silence for a few more minutes, the sounds of Seokmin’s ragged breathing being the only thing to overpower the sound of the clock.

“What time is it?” Seokmin choked out, coughing into his fist. 

Seungkwan eyes the clock on the entertainment system. “It’s 10:30…” he said softly, and Seokmin only let out another pained groan.

         When the clock struck 10:35, Seokmin sat straight up, so robotically that it scared Seungkwan back. His eyes had stopped leaking, and he licked his dry lips. Getting off the couch, he hurried into the bathroom to redo his face and cover up any red blotches. Seungkwan followed him in, asking if he was okay now, but not getting a response. Seokmin simply fixed himself up and grabbed his belongings. He needed to catch the bus. He couldn’t make Joshua wait.  

⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔(im)perfect🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌

         “It’s all water under the bridge,” Seokmin said simply. He thought back to the pain in his chest two hours before, the tight way he gripped the hairs in his scalp and the red blotch marks under his eyes from tears that pooled in them and wouldn’t stop no matter how hard he tried. He hoped he had on enough foundation to mask that. “No big deal.” As he scanned the options, he could feel Joshua staring at him for a minute longer. His stare, gentle yet curious, sent shivers down Seokmin’s spine. “Hm? What are you staring at?”

         Joshua shrugged, his smile not fading. “Nothing.” His gentleness made Seokmin nod his head. “What are you in the mood for?” Joshua picked up his own menu and flipped it open as he asked, humming. “I’m craving a hamburger or something.” Seokmin looked down at the section for burgers when Joshua mentioned them, wondering if Joshua also pre-screened the menu before arriving. “So.” Joshua piped up again. “Your midterms went well?”

         “Yeah,” Seokmin said. “I think I did pretty good.”

         “That’s good.” Joshua smiled. “I think so, too. Can’t believe I’m almost done.”

         “What do you want to teach?” That was a good conversation. 

         “English.” He said simply. “I only need my bachelor’s degree from this year, and a few more certifications to be qualified.” Seokmin nodded. “What about you? I know you’re focused on acting. Movies? TV? Or are you just sticking to musical theatre stuff?”

         “I….” Seokmin pursed his lips. “I don’t know yet.” He frowned. “I’ve only ever done theatre. But a few of my friends over the years have asked me to help with their movies for projects, and that was fun too.” Joshua nodded, shrugging.

         “You’ll figure it out.” Before Seokmin could reply, the waiter came and took their drink orders. When he walked away, Joshua leaned back in his seat, playing with the sleeves of his sweater. He glanced up at Seokmin, his nose scrunched up a bit in amusement. Seokmin thought it was cute. “You doing anything fun for the long weekend?”

         “Seungkwan wanted to have some sort of celebration for midterms being over, but he hasn’t mentioned anything about it since.” Seokmin shrugged. “I was going to head home and see my family, but I don’t know if it’ll be worth the money and travel for less than three days. Especially with Christmas break coming up.” Joshua nodded. “What about you?”

         “I’m going to try and get a head start on some of the latter half of the professor’s work probably. He asked me to lead a few discussions so I have to start preparing everything I would need for that.” Seokmin imagined what Joshua would look like teaching in that large lecture hall, leading a discussion about education practices. He imagined Joshua’s button-up sleeves rolled to the elbows, eyes focused on each and every student as they added to the discussion. Even in the large lecture hall, Seokmin knew Joshua would be the type of person to look them right in the eye, much as he was doing now.

         “You’ll be a good teacher…” Seokmin said, looking down at his hands on the table. When he glanced back up at Joshua, he saw a hint of pink on the other’s cheeks, his nose scrunching up more as flattery took over his expression. “I can feel it.”

         “Thank you,” Joshua said sheepishly. “I’ll do my best.” Seokmin nodded, glancing up at the waiter who returned with their drinks. “Are you ready to order?” Seokmin glanced back down at the menu, nodding his head as Joshua wasted no time to put his own order in, Seokmin not far behind. With more time until their food arrived, the duo continued to fall into casual conversation.

         While Joshua was sharing a story about his midterm studying experience, where he forgot to do laundry for the entire week much to the dismay of his roommate, Seokmin listened. Well, he tried too. No matter how hard he tried, his brain kept reminding him of one thing.

         He was late twice. Sure, he’s here now. But it could happen again.

         It will happen again. It will happen until he stops coming altogether.

         Seokmin pulled his lips into a tight line as if to hold his thoughts back. Joshua was seemingly oblivious to his plight thank God. Seokmin had no idea how he’d navigate the storm of assuring Joshua he was no longer upset when in fact he was.

         You’re allowed to be upset with people, Seokmin. Especially when they hurt your feelings.

         “Mmm.” Seokmin blinked, locking eyes with a confused Joshua. He was still smiling. “Oh. Sorry…” he said. “Go on.”

         “I’m done.” Joshua chuckled. Seokmin nodded, chuckling shyly. Maybe he should start carving into that hole in his brain beforehand, get the headache out of the way early. “What about you?” When Joshua saw Seokmin’s expression contort in confusion, he clarified. “You just listened to me ramble about education and teaching stuff. Tell me about your acting.”

         “Like what?”

         A shrug. “Callbacks. When do you hear from them?”

         Seokmin had to admit, he didn’t even think about the callbacks ever since he left what he considered one of his worst auditions ever. “They usually come out after midterms end. That way we have the rest of this semester and the entire spring semester to practice and put it together.”

         “So soon?” Seokmin nodded. “Then you’ll hear some good news.”

         “I doubt it. I really don’t think it was my best work.”

         “You never know until it happens.” Joshua leaned back in his seat. “Besides, you’ll have to get a callback. I want to be there and hear you sing.”

         Seokmin felt his chest explode, but he couldn’t tell if Joshua’s comment made him feel flattery or fear. He’ll keep being late until he stops showing up altogether. Being five minutes early this time was a coincidence. It won’t happen again.

         Desperate to change the subject, and wondering if the waiter had caught his plea, the food arrived, and Seokmin watched eager eyes widen across from him. “Awesome.” Joshua grinned.

         “Enjoy your meal.” Seokmin eyed the waiter as he smiled, to which Seokmin politely returned.

         “You too.” The seconds the word hit his own ears, he chewed his lip. “Mhm…thank you.” The waiter grinned, amused at the comment he must hear hundreds of times a day. With a polite nod, he headed to a table on the other side of the room to assist with their order. Seokmin covered his face. “Why me?”

         Joshua immediately snorted into his hands, tilting his head back in amusement as he laughed. “Oh, noooo. The classic ‘you too’.” He snickered. He watched Seokmin try to disappear into his chair, hands buried into his face. It only made Joshua laugh harder. “Awww, don’t be embarrassed.”

         “I’m such a dork.”

         “No, it was so cute.” Joshua leaned forward. He reached his hand out, gently brushing his fingers against Seokmin’s wrist, guiding his hands back down onto the table. Seokmin looked down at his hands, seeing his wrist held gently in Joshua’s grip. Seokmin glanced up, lips pursed together in a little pout. “It was so cute. I do that all the time.”

         Seokmin looked down at his wrist in Joshua’s hand, a feeling he never wanted to forget. He licked his lips, which felt dry for a moment. Joshua’s other hand stuck a fry in his mouth, his smile of amusement still on his face. Joshua’s gentle reassurance calmed Seokmin’s mind just a bit, but maybe too much.

         “Why have you been late for our plans the past few times?” Joshua’s smile dropped, the fry dangling from his lips. There was no going back now, Seokmin knowing he’d regret asking later. “I’m sorry,” Seokmin said quickly, pulling his hand back. Joshua’s hand stayed in its spot on the table, palm facing up as if it was waiting for Seokmin’s wrist to come back into his grip. “I didn’t-.”

         “Seokmin, I’m sorry….” He said softly. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

         “No, it’s okay.”

         “No, it’s really not,” Joshua said. “Not if you’re still upset.” Seokmin leaned back in his seat, biting his lip as Joshua took a deep breath. “Midterms took a lot of my time, and I-.”

         “I know. You don’t have to explain anything to me.” Joshua didn’t seem convinced, in fact, he seemed even annoyed that Seokmin kept pushing him. His eyes narrowed a bit, crossing his arms. “Sorry…” Seokmin whispered. “It slipped out, I didn’t want to make it a thing….”

         “Seokmin, I made two promises and came late to both. That’s shitty to do and I’m sorry. You can be mad at me, it’s fine.”

         “I-I’m not…” Seokmin could feel his heart continuing to beat in his chest, his throat threatening to close. Joshua’s words sounded reassuring, but his tone was laced with annoyance and regret. How could Seokmin let himself slip like that? Now he’s completely ruined the lunch. He’s completely ruined the date. 

         “Seokmin…” Joshua’s voice was gentle again, and he looked across the table. “I will work to fix my time management. Not just with you, I could stand to do it for a lot of things...I promise.” Seokmin blinked, head tilting to the side and exhaling a deep sigh.

         “Okay…” he said softly. Joshua smiled once again. With the situation seemingly handled for now, both of them finally began to eat. Seokmin was taking a bite of his meal, glancing up at Joshua. He was sipping his drink, eyes staring out the window at the world passing outside.

“I’ll be right back.” He said, sliding out from his chair and heading towards the bathrooms located in the back of the room. Seokmin watched until he disappeared behind the bathroom door. Alone, Seokmin painted Joshua’s face in his mind, needing to study it without interruption. He noticed the bags he remembered from the first time Joshua came to his house were still there, still caked under the foundation. His eyes, now that they weren’t focused on Seokmin, looked almost glazed over in exhaustion. Apologizing and claiming accountability seemed to take a lot more out of him, a sight that made Seokmin only feel more guilty for his comments. Joshua had his reasons, he shouldn’t have made such an outburst, especially in public. He did the one thing he never wanted to do; cause problems for others without fair warning. He felt absolutely disgusting.

Seokmin pulled out his phone, seeing a text from Mingyu; a thumbs up and a heart sticker as his way of wishing Seokmin luck today.

[Seokmin] (now): What do I do? I asked him about being late and now I think he’s upset with me. I feel awful. I wanted to leave but I couldn’t do that. Could I? No, I don’t want to. I can’t believe I asked, it’s no big deal, I’m not upset with him.

Seokmin watched the wall of text grow and grow as his fingers flew frantically along the letters. Finally, with a ragged sigh, he deleted the entire thing, simply sending Mingyu a smiley face sticker in response and setting his phone back down. He covered his mouth with his hands, watching the bathroom door silently until Joshua returned. He was smiling once again, hands in his pockets as he returned to the table.

         “Are you okay?” Seokmin asked softly as Joshua sat back down beside him. “You look tired.”

         Joshua nodded his head. “Yeah, of course!” Seokmin immediately clocked the forced tone in his voice, mostly from personal experience. He put another bite of his fries in his mouth as Joshua leaned forward. “Hey, do you want to come to my place after this?”

         Seokmin almost choked on his food, turning his head and coughing. When he glanced back, Joshua was offering another small smile at him. “Sorry, what?”

         “Do you want to come to my place?” He asked again, seemingly unbothered in the request. “I just bought a few new beads and boxes and I’ve been itching to break them open and make a bracelet or something.” Seokmin watched him. “I remember you said you wanted to learn.”

         “Oh uhm….” Seokmin swallowed, putting his water to his lips and taking a long sip in hopes he would come up with the right answer this time. When he set his cup down, Seokmin saw Joshua waiting for an answer. “You don’t mind?”

         “Would I invite you if I did?” He cocked his head to the side. He had a point.

         “Uhm…okay.” He smiled. Joshua nodded, grinning in what Seokmin could only hope was excitement.

         “Awesome.”

         Seokmin couldn’t stop staring at Joshua’s eyes for the rest of the meal. Between finishing up their meals and Joshua signing the receipt and sticking his wallet back into his pocket, Seokmin wondered if the bags under his eyes felt as heavy as they looked. But he always spewed too much nonsense for one day, and kept his mouth shut for both of their sakes.

⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔(im)perfect🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌

         “You live here?” Seokmin’s neck craned up at the stunning set of apartments looming over them. Located only a five-minute walk from the restaurant, the building stood tall and proud over the rest of the area. Seokmin’s eyes darted down another street, one that led to his house. He wondered if he could see the apartments from his own with how tall they were. He had never actively tried to look for them, but he would now. Joshua chuckled a bit.

         “According to my key, I do.” He winked, pulling the little silver piece of metal from his back pocket, dangling it between the duo. Seokmin glanced back up at it as Joshua headed towards the front entrance. “Come on, then.” He motioned to Seokmin. “I live on the sixth floor, so we can take the elevator.”

         Without question, Seokmin followed behind him, hands in the pockets of his jeans as they headed in. The apartments were definitely expensive, and Seokmin immediately caught this by the large main area that welcomed him, giving him the feeling of a hotel. It smelt like strawberry, and Seokmin suddenly craved one. Joshua motioned towards the elevator, leading Seokmin past the P.O. Boxes lining one of the walls. He waved to the few people making their way through the halls, all of them knowing him by name and Joshua seeming to know them in the same way. A few polite nods of his head got Seokmin to the elevator, and they both stepped inside.

         The trip up was quiet, Seokmin’s eyes glued to the number as it ticked up. 2…3…4… Seokmin felt his heart tighten at the idea that on date one – pull yourself together! – Seokmin was going to his apartment. What would people at school think of him if they found out? He didn’t have time to weigh the options, as the elevator door rang and Joshua stepped out. “This way.” He turned to Seokmin, motioning down the hall. He hooked a left at the end, and pulled his key out. “I know I already told you I’m an amazing actor, but I’m an even better jewelry making.”

         Seokmin’s lips perked up at the comment. “Yeah? I don’t think I’ll be that good.”

         “It’s not as hard as you think.” He confessed, turning to Seokmin. “Besides, it’s mostly to relax. At least for me.” When he got to his door, he stuck the key in and clicked it, flinging it open. As Joshua stepped in, motioning Seokmin to follow, Seokmin swallowed a big lump in his throat and followed. He had already texted Seungkwan and Mingyu that he was going to Joshua’s apartment after lunch, and he could already feel the vibrating frenzy happening in his back pocket with what he could only assume was their lewd forms of encouragement. As he stepped into the main room of the apartment, Joshua closed the door behind them.

         “Wow.” Seokmin admired the layout before him, an arch to his left leading into what he could only assume was the kitchen, and a small step leading to an L-Shaped couch and large TV hanging on the wall. He could immediately see college parties being held here. “This is really nice.”

         “Thanks.” Joshua said. “At first, I thought it was too big, but I kind of like the space. We have a nice balcony and everything.” When he saw Seokmin’s eyes dart left to right, he smiled. “Want to see it?”

         “Oh, okay.” Seokmin nodded, and Joshua led him deeper into the apartment. As he took a few steps, just about to step into the little dip that was the living room, his footsteps stopped. At the edge of the couch was a man, someone Seokmin had never seen before. His eyes immediately widened at the stunning vision before him. A slender man with flowing black hair that reached his shoulders, and a beautifully delicate face. He was sitting on the couch in nothing but a pair of long pajama pants and a robe that was untied just enough to expose his collarbones and chest. Seokmin had to glance away, so he looked at Joshua to gauge his expression. That didn’t help.

         Joshua’s cheeks were red, annoyance buried in his brows as he put his hands on his hips. The male on the couch glanced over, grinning. “Hey.” He said. “You’re back, Joshuji!”

         “Jeonghan…what the fuck are you doing here?”        

The second those words filled the living room, Seokmin’s feet felt as if they were glued to the floor, and he so desperately wished he was closer to the balcony.

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[ravenheartxvi]

So I learned yesterday that Jake Lloyd, who portrayed young Anakin Skywalker in the Phantom Menace was diagnosed with schizophrenia. My apologies for this being old news to some but while I was aware that he was the recipient of intense bullying for his portrayal of Anakin Skywalker and vague notes of how it negatively impacted him, I was until now unaware of his mental health diagnosis. My heart just goes out to him and what he lives with. I admit, I have strong feelings on this information.

I was never one of those people who criticized the portrayal of littleAnakin Skywalker and could not understand the logic behind attacking a child actor for no other reason than not liking this child’s acting or portrayal. It was cruel and shameful to bully a child to such an extent that this boy couldn’t even enjoy the experience. Now, knowing that he suffers from a severe and still mostly misunderstood mental illness just makes it even worse! SHAME on anyone who even shared a shred of negativity towards Jake Llyod! Just thinking of him experiencing the onset of his symptoms while also experiencing such an onslaught of vitriol from toxic assholes who thought it was appropriate to target a child actor is just so heartbreaking. My heart bleeds at the thought and I feel so much empathy for what he must have been going through at the time. Especially considering that I experienced similar experiences on a smaller scale. 

I don’t know what it must feel like to experience having schizophrenia beyond a clinical/educational understanding. However, I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder during my adolescence. I was one of the lucky few to receive an early diagnosis and that is mostly due to a family history and the fact that my mother was diagnosed with the disorder while I was ten. I was also a bullied child. While I won’t go into detail, I’ll just say that it was bad enough that when I first began to wear prescription glasses in fourth grade, I experienced deep anxiety and terror of wearing my glasses in front of my peers in fear of being bullied. Anytime my mom tried to talk to me about joining extracurricular activities such as joining girl scouts or the idea of summer camp, I would break down into tears and beg her not to make me do it. The experiences I had with my peers only compounded my experiences when I began to experience the symptoms of bipolar disorder, the manic episodes and the depression episodes, all occurring in the late 90’s before cyber bullying became a thing. Going through such a turbulent time in your mental health while also dealing with intense bullying is traumatizing. It leaves an impact, one that I, as a thirty-eight year old woman, still deal with the effects of. I cannot help but try to emphasize and imagine just how much more intense and scary it was for Jake Lloyd. I truly hope he is doing well, as well as he can with a difficult mental disorder. 

On top of that, I came across a youtube video yesterday where Ahmed Best(who portrayed Jar Jar Binks) talked about how he was driven to almost commit suicide because of the backlash and bullying he received from the same toxic assholes who dare to call themselves fans. WTF is wrong with people! Again, I have such strong feelings and my heart goes out to these two actors after learning of these two facts. I understand what it is like to be driven to self harm and attempt suicide through the mistreatment from others. My first suicide attempt had occurred when I was twelve, after a particularly bad day at school dealing with bullies. Unfortunately it was also the beginning of the onset of my own mental health issues. I am glad that Ahmed Best has recovered from that incredibly painful and low point in his life and he is now thriving. But the fact that he was brought to such a low point by “fans” in the first place is just so disgusting. 

The problem is that this shit is still happening. We may all have our own opinions on the sequel trilogy or any other Star Wars media helmed by Disney, whatever. But the fact that Kelly Marie Tran was targeted by toxic asshole “fans” to the point that she had to scrub her social media accounts and it soured her Star Wars experience is just disheartening. And when these same toxic asshole “fans” decided to target Moses Ingram for her role as Reva, I have so much more respect for Ewan McGregor for calling them out and coming to Moses’ defense. I now have no doubt that Ewan saw first hand what these toxic asshole “fans” put Jake and Ahmed through and stepped up for his co-star. 

The emotional distress these actors had to experience from this toxic fan behavior is difficult to swallow. Neither one of them deserved to be targeted with an ounce of the backlash they received. Yet, this toxic fan behavior became the main opinion and dare anyone else speak against it. It’s beginning to turn around now and the actors once criticized and mistreated by “fans” are now receiving recognition for their talent and appreciation for their roles. However, it does not erase their experience. For a child actor to be targeted by bullies for his role is cruel enough but knowing that same child actor also suffers from a serious mental illness makes it a thousand times worse. Knowing that an adult actor was bullied over a role he was enjoying, getting encouraging feedback by his co-stars and production team, only to be driven to suicidal feelings by fan reactions is equally tragic. I choose to combat this cruelty with compassion. What about you?

[maybebecomingms]

some things never change

November 9th, 2023

In the fall of 2006, I had a prolonged anxiety attack I define, for lack of a better term, as a nervous breakdown. I didn't go to school. I called in sick to work 20 minutes before my shift started once. I sat at home and cried and shook and couldn't do much else. I remember sitting at the table one day forcing myself to eat a handful of grapes. I'd lost 8 pounds that week because I was so freaked out, swallowing food felt like an impossible challenge much of the time.

It wasn't the first time. I missed a big chunk of 1st grade, and 6th grade, and 11th grade all the same way. The first two were chalked up to being a weird kid, and the third was blamed on a bad reaction to Ortho Tri-Cyclen. Which was fair - synthetic estrogen and I are not friends.

But this time there was no chemical influence, no obvious reason. I'd gone to the emergency room with chest pain. I saw a doctor with mixed results. I remember my dad calling said doctor, or maybe it was the pharmacy, on a Friday afternoon pleading with them while I vibrated on the couch like a dog during a thunderstorm: "she's suffering; you gotta do something for her."

A few weeks later, the worst of it had passed and I was mostly back to my life, a few emergency clonazepam in my purse if I started to feel that way again. I was on my way out the door for work about the same time my dad had gotten home and was settling into his spot at the table (he had a bad back and always sat in a hard chair at the table; never, ever on the couch).

"Hey, kid. I didn't know it was like that inside your head. I get it now. And you're back, and you're doing it. I'm really fucking proud of you."

It felt like the first time anyone had really seen me and understood me, and to this day it's the best example I can think of as far as a time when someone actually did.

I've been feeling this way again lately. Maybe not in such a severe way - I haven't been unable to leave my house. But I have been laying low, attempting to hide as much as possible.

I've been wishing someone would see it and understand it the way my dad did when I was a sophomore in college. I don't know that anyone will. And he's been gone for nearly 10 years.

This week I accepted a new job and also underwent three hours of testing in pursuit of an ADHD diagnosis. My brain is fried. I don't have it in me to do household tasks or make decisions. I just can't.

But maybe I'm on the path to seeing and understanding myself for what is really happening, and that would be alright too.

Nobody else can really, truly do that anyway.

[ghostlycorvid]

So I have been dealing with constant exhaustion for years and years. Ever since I started college I’ve struggled to stay awake in lectures, and even after college it’s been a struggle to stay awake at work. If anything it got worse at work, especially when I got promoted to full time mid-pandemic. I started having an energy drink every school and later work day, just trying to keep myself awake.

For a while I thought “well hey, I started taking melatonin when I started college because I struggle to fall asleep, so maybe thats it”. Stopped taking it for a month, only change was that it got progressively harder to fall asleep again. :’)

Then I realized that Hey. Maybe this is an understimulation thing? Because classes were structured differently in grade school, then went much more lecture heavy in college. Which was a great hypothesis, but I continued to be on a non-stimulant treatment for adhd that still wasn’t working.

But there was also the issue that I was this exhausted even at home, in calls with friends I would be literally falling asleep while trying to hold a conversation, read a post, or watch something with them. Things that should be stimulating enough, and on my weekends when I should have enough sleep to be awake. Plus I always had headaches.

Last week after a year of being with my current psych, we finally managed to get me started on a low dose of Adderall!

Of course this meant stopping my energy drinks, so I wasn’t mixing two stimulants. I don’t need a caffeine induced anxiety attack thank you.

And I did notice an immediate change at work! Yes I was tired, yes I was headachey, but I wasn’t fighting for my life to stay awake! Even in boring 2 hour long meetings with the lights turned low for a presentation, I kept my eyes open the whole time! I was even having an easier time with starting tasks when I realized I needed to do them! (Compare to literally just that Monday where it took me an hour to get myself to go downstairs to chop some potatoes I’d already washed for cooking)

But goddamn did I feel exhausted and like total shit. It took me until day 4 to realize that my current problem and the reason I was always so exhausted on my weekends were one in the same.

This fucking idiot was going through the start of caffeine withdrawal every week when I got my two days off work and didn’t drink an energy drink. 8′)

It’s now been almost a full week since I stopped having energy drinks at work and I have never felt this awake and alert on my weekend. I ALMOST felt the need to crawl back into bed for a nap yesterday, but it passed and I did manage to get some stuff done.

For now I’ve been instructed not to take the medication on my weekends when I don’t “need to work” (lol, lmao) but at least not being in caffeine withdrawal is already doing wonders for how I feel on the weekend.

[manicpixieirl]

july 24, 2023

A month ago, I walked into my psychiatrist's office and left with a bottle of tiny blue pills. So much of my energy has been spent on catering to mania and depression that I forgot those aren’t the only two feelings that are a part of the human condition.

While I spent years of my life alternating between trying to bring my mood up when I was low and trying to bring myself back down when I was high, I never fully figured out how to bring myself back to center when I was anxious.

In this season of life, I am learning how to ground myself, trying to endure and ride the waves that anxiety has crashing on my shoreline.

The mania and depression have leveled out, gone back to their hiding spots until the next time they are supposed to sneak out and make themselves known. In leaving, they forgot to take anxiety with them, and now I am cycling between trying to control the future and being stuck in complete fear of it.

Manic highs and depressive lows are mountains and valleys I can navigate well. Anxiety is unfamiliar terrain, it feels like a tsunami, a giant wave I can’t climb or navigate, it just comes for me, heightening as the tide pulls in and swallowing me whole when the wave crashes. My anxiety typically manifests as a need to control the wave rather than ride it.

The waves feel like I am the new kid in school every day, overthinking things from my outfits, to my relationship, to whether or not I should have hugged a friend of a friend goodbye at a get-together we had last Sunday. Things that I normally wouldn’t have second guessed are now taking up entire bookshelves of my brain and I don’t know how to stop it.

Do I just accept this new symptom as a third party? My mountains are hills now and my valleys aren’t as low, so is this okay? Not if the anxiety is deafening. Not if I’m being crushed by the wave, only to drown in anxiety and fear of the future. What is all this for if I’m still lost in thought, trying to control tomorrow instead of living in the present?

There are days where it feels less like a tsunami and more like a riptide. I think that’s because now I know where it is coming from, but I don’t appreciate having panic attacks over whether or not I believe I can pull off overalls.

When I was in seventh grade, I went away to one of those week-long-youth-overnight-Christian-camps. I hated going, but something must have stuck since I still have my Faith and remember one sermon about tsunamis and fear of the future.

In 2004, there was a man who stood on the Sumatran Coast with his three sons. All he had with him were his children and a small boat. Suddenly, he felt the earth shake and watched all of the water in the ocean recede from the shoreline, collecting into one giant ball of potential energy at the end of the horizon. The man was paralyzed by his anxiety; he knew what was coming.

“Get in the boat.”

The man didn’t even look for the source of the sentence, at that moment, his flight response was activated. He had faith enough in the feeling to find his children, get in the boat, and paddle straight into the ocean, riding the wave and surviving the tsunami that his wife at home would fall victim to. He had faith, he got in the boat, he rode the wave.

Whether you take this as fact or as a parable, it is a beautiful story of perseverance and loss. May we all have enough faith in ourselves to ride the waves that come our way rather than try and control them. May we all acknowledge the things we lose in the tsunamis and the things we keep by maintaining our faith in ourselves, or in God, or in tiny blue pills.

A month ago, I walked into my psychiatrist's office and left with a bottle of tiny blue pills. So much of my energy has been spent on catering to mania and depression that I forgot those aren’t the only two feelings that are a part of the human condition.

While I spent years of my life alternating between trying to bring my mood up when I was low and trying to bring myself back down when I was high, I never fully figured out how to bring myself back to center when I was anxious.

In this season of life, I am learning how to ground myself, trying to endure and ride the waves that anxiety has crashing on my shoreline.

The mania and depression have leveled out, gone back to their hiding spots until the next time they are supposed to sneak out and make themselves known. In leaving, they forgot to take anxiety with them, and now I am cycling between trying to control the future and being stuck in complete fear of it.

Manic highs and depressive lows are mountains and valleys I can navigate well. Anxiety is unfamiliar terrain, it feels like a tsunami, a giant wave I can’t climb or navigate, it just comes for me, heightening as the tide pulls in and swallowing me whole when the wave crashes. My anxiety typically manifests as a need to control the wave rather than ride it.

The waves feel like I am the new kid in school every day, overthinking things from my outfits, to my relationship, to whether or not I should have hugged a friend of a friend goodbye at a get-together we had last Sunday. Things that I normally wouldn’t have second guessed are now taking up entire bookshelves of my brain and I don’t know how to stop it.

Do I just accept this new symptom as a third party? My mountains are hills now and my valleys aren’t as low, so is this okay? Not if the anxiety is deafening. Not if I’m being crushed by the wave, only to drown in anxiety and fear of the future. What is all this for if I’m still lost in thought, trying to control tomorrow instead of living in the present?

There are days where it feels less like a tsunami and more like a riptide. I think that’s because now I know where it is coming from, but I don’t appreciate having panic attacks over whether or not I believe I can pull off overalls.

When I was in seventh grade, I went away to one of those week-long-youth-overnight-Christian-camps. I hated going, but something must have stuck since I still have my Faith and remember one sermon about tsunamis and fear of the future.

In 2004, there was a man who stood on the Sumatran Coast with his three sons. All he had with him were his children and a small boat. Suddenly, he felt the earth shake and watched all of the water in the ocean recede from the shoreline, collecting into one giant ball of potential energy at the end of the horizon. The man was paralyzed by his anxiety; he knew what was coming.

“Get in the boat.”

The man didn’t even look for the source of the sentence, at that moment, his flight response was activated. He had faith enough in the feeling to find his children, get in the boat, and paddle straight into the ocean, riding the wave and surviving the tsunami that his wife at home would fall victim to. He had faith, he got in the boat, he rode the wave.

Whether you take this as fact or as a parable, it is a beautiful story of perseverance and loss. May we all have enough faith in ourselves to ride the waves that come our way rather than try and control them. May we all acknowledge the things we lose in the tsunamis and the things we keep by maintaining our faith in ourselves, or in God, or in tiny blue pills.

[ninaalexandra2005]

May recap 🥀🌸🎀:

First of all, I’ve decided to start using tumblr more like a blog about my life because instagram has become such a low quality, toxic social media environment where posting any longer texts about my life would just seem irrelevant. I’m still going to post on instagram, but I think it’s better to post longer entries here. I don’t care that no one follows me, at least no one I know, and that this platform is pretty much dead, since I myself feel that the days when social media was more personal and creative were 100% better…

In mid-May, I finished my first year of university! Before I had my final exams, I was in a constant state of panic and anxiety for weeks leading up to them, but on the days of the actual exams, I felt much calmer than I was expecting, maybe because I was prepared to have a panic attack… i got final grades of all A’s in each class, although I was disappointed that I didn’t do as well on my French final as I was hoping, but I was so happy that I got a 100 on my psychology final exam and for that entire class. It’s so annoying that A+’s aren’t counted in college for some reason, although I guess that means if I got a 93, it would still look as good on my GPA… a few days later, after my final grades had been confirmed, I was able to get registered in the psychology department:) I’m actually so excited to have so many plans about my classes for the next three years, then getting into the masters degree program at my college and being able to graduate a year early, and then go to graduate school! I’ve been thinking obsessively about my future career and planning out every little detail in advance, and now that I have so much worked out at such a young age and am preparing early, I can feel less stressed and overwhelmed about my future because uncertainty is one of the most unsettling things for me, as well as the fact that I can start doing extra things to get into graduate school early that will look good for my application. I’m hoping to do psychological testing after I finish graduate school, and also make my own personality tests and do research about the things that I have personally been affected by as long as I can remember- nostalgia, giftedness, and sensitivity, all of which I feel are inherent personality traits as well as things that can be worked on to help people feel less burdened by them, because at this point, nostalgia in particular is not treated as a negative emotion, although for myself and so many others, it is a feeling of pure grief, heartbreak, and yearning, a mix of sadness and anxiety for something you know is impossible but can’t acknowledge (returning to the past)… I hope I can do something about this with my personal experience with nostalgia and figure out ways it can be treated and recognized as something negative. After college ended for the semester, I of course enrolled in summer classes because I can’t stand not being able to write that I’ve done schoolwork in my daily planners and lists, and because I actually prefer having something to keep my busy mentally. Thankfully these classes are online, so I don’t have to drive to school this summer and the schedule is more flexible so I can go other places. A few weeks after school ended, the dreaded trip had arrived. I was so, so worried and panicked about going on an airplane and overseas flight; I’ve always had a severe fear of flying, but after not having been on an airplane in over two years, and an overseas flight in five (flying over the ocean absolutely terrifies me), I felt even more scared. The day before and the day we went to the airport, which was May 30th, I had taken several Klonopins and Robitussin and took more Klonopin at the airport. I was handling it very well because I was so sedated and calm, but just as we were about to board the plane, we had to leave the airport, go back, and cancel the trip… this is because Nes, the manipulative sociopath, had purposely taken a handful of pills and Gramma had to take her to the emergency room. Of course everything became chaotic and horrifying, and I was so upset and guilty that she apparently had attempted to end her life, and even now, after the real story has come forth, I feel sorry for her and sad that this is what her life has become. My poor parents had to stay at the emergency room overnight and most of the next day with Nes, while she was evaluated, and my parents had numerous discussions with different doctors, but on Friday afternoon, she was released because my parents decided not to have her taken to a mental hospital…

[kittykatinabag]

Ok so I'm doing a "bad" in academia right now.

As in, I haven't turned in any of my final assignments even though the deadlines are now approaching 3 weeks overdue (more than a month in one case). Fuck, I've barely started them.

And I've been trying to communicate this intense executive dysfunction to my therapist but we keep getting side tracked by other things that are probably tangentially related (as I'm learning most of mental health is), but not the issue of my extreme adversion to work of any kind.

The thing is she's already told me how this problem arose, in that the experience I was having while working basically made it so any work that requires people seeing results or sustained periods of higher level thinking is now wrapped in a trauma response that my mind is trying to defend against via my favorite defense mechanism of escapism. I wanted to dive deeper but our 55 minutes were up for that session and the next one went on another tangent.

But even thinking about that idea, I don't know how to fix it/solve it/live with it. Because it wrapped around a concept and not one or two particular actions. And a concept is flexible and takes many forms.

So I just sit, mildly stressed out, halfway checked out because most of me doesn't even really care about grades as long as we're learning but that's not how going to school works anymore, and slightly fearful that worst case dooms day distortion scenario of having this continue and the government of Ireland caring enough to just deport my ass back to the US where I'll have to move back in with my parents which will most likely send me full spiral back into suicidal ideation territory since they don't seem to understand or even want to understand how bad my mental health is when I'm living under the same roof as them in my shitty hometown.

But I know that's one of those cognitive distortions that cognitive behavioral therapy talks about (can't be bothered to look up the correct one, there's too many fucking terms in CBT), so I know that situation wouldn't occur in reality. But my mind still makes those thoughts, and I don't have the automatic mental chop to the head that non-mentally ill people have so I have to do it manually. It's just so tiring to have to do it all manually.

But yeah. Struggle bussing here. I wish the desperation I had when I was younger was still around but ultimately it's probably a good thing that's not really around anymore. I probably should switch therapists to someone who will actually challenge my thinking instead of circling back to my supposed low self confidence (which it's not low anymore. Trust me on that one), and only pointing towards solutions about 10% of the time. But that decision is for the me of three or so weeks from now since that's when my 8 initial sessions end. (Also side note I hate the way her room is set up, I might go into this in more detail later but it's one of my triggers that makes my mind itch. It doesn't send me into any anxiety attacks but I fucking hate it)

[taechaos]

Silent Treatment

from Textbook Love drabble series

pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader

genre: drabble, smut, college au

synopsis: Why did you reject him? He’s consumed by his thoughts and theories of your behavior because you didn’t say a single word to him. If your actions were anything to go by, which apparently speak louder than words, you didn’t even want him to touch you.

warnings: slight angst, drugs, arguing, dubcon, cunnilingus, mild degredation

word count: 4.2k

tags: @mwitsmejk @1-in-abillion @kooookie

a/n: the request (contains some spoilers). i'm gonna take a very short break from this couple to write other requests!! hope u enjoy 💗

The shift in the Spring weather is unpredictable. One moment it’s chilly, and the other sunny. Humans can only adapt so much, and it causes an outbreak of common colds. Most people recover easily, handy medicine soothing their sore throats, syrups suppressing coughs, and nose sprays ridding the blockage. You, on the other hand, are not that lucky. With a weak immune system, you’re very careful to not get sick, but there must have been a slip-up because you’ve somehow lost your voice after catching a cold.

You sniffle and cough, but you can’t speak. It’s advised to not exert your vocal cords in cases like these, and that is just so unfortunate for you. The last thing you’d ever want to do is spread your sickness to Jungkook, and that meant not getting too close to him; it meant no kissing. 

A very large white placard is spread out in front of you on the wooden table, and you’re plastering printed images of a specific global issue on it. You’re sitting on a bench with two of your friends as they chatter mindlessly while you work. Jungkook has a project about climate change due in a few days, and it’s supposed to be very important for his final grade. You’ve already written him a script for his presentation along with a stick prop to point at specific pictures. It’s fun, glittery and he’s going to love it. 

“Hey,” Minnie, your friend, calls for you, “we’re going to get some coffee from Starbucks. Want us to get you green tea?”

Soyeon laughs when your eyes light up; it’s your favorite beverage, and it’s supposed to help with your sore throat. They leave with a smile after you give them a hyper nod and you’re alone as you adjust your woolen scarf around your neck. You need to heal as fast as you can so you’re no longer missing your beloved’s affection.

Jungkook has been feeling more inclined to approach you without reason lately, but that doesn’t mean it’s a common occurrence. Getting teased by his friend, specifically Taehyung, about having a sissy crush on a girl like yourself angered him to no end. A hit always got him to shut up, but not for long. He’s walking your way today because there’s no one around to judge him for talking to you. 

You’re tearing a double-sided tape when he sits on your table, carefully avoiding your materials. Your breath hitches as his eyes gloss over your work in progress. “Working hard, I see,” he comments with disinterest. He doesn’t say anything about your efforts, but he’s impressed. The corner of his lip tugs upwards before he leans in for a kiss. You have enough self-control and concern for his well-being over your desires to lean back before your lips make contact. His face is close to yours as he pauses and slightly frowns before trying again. He receives the same results and finally pulls back. 

“You did well,” he frowns at you and speaks as if you’re a child, “I’m praising you.” Your eyes are darting back and forth awkwardly and you don’t know what to do other than sit in silence. You put your hands on his knees as a resort and his frown deepens as he watches you. “I can take a hint, you know. You don’t have to fucking ignore me.” He roughly shoves your hands and stands up before storming off with a scoff. You’re torn between following him and being responsible over your belongings. You can’t let his grades go to waste because of a small misunderstanding, so you decide to text him instead. There’s always a possibility someone might steal his project. Or maybe after he’s cooled off? You delay the message, but somewhere in your heart, you’re satisfied by his reaction because it’s clear that he wanted to kiss you.

Heavy footsteps clomp against the sidewalk before Jungkook slumps on the seat next to Taehyung. It’s an isolated area for smoking students at the back of the campus, and his friend group is no exception to this role. They’re taking drags of cigarettes individually as Jungkook glares at his boots. They’re chunky and a bold black, and his dark outfit paints him as the big bad wolf. It fits, because he’s ready to attack when he’s filled with so much resentment. Why did you reject him? He’s consumed by his thoughts and theories of your behavior because you didn’t say a single word to him. If your actions were anything to go by, which apparently speak louder than words, you didn’t even want him to touch you. It doesn’t make sense, but you also grimaced at him, but then why were you doing his homework? He’s feeling frustrated, and upset all the same.

“Someone’s troubled,” Seokjin points out with a mouthful of smoke. “Kookie?”

Said boy only grunts in response.

“Did the lousy girl finally see you for who you really are and leave you?” Taehyung doesn’t hesitate to mock him with a pout. “Tragic.”

“Shut the fuck up, Tae,” Jungkook spits and sends him a death glare, fire flaming in his fierce eyes. “Go actually talk to a girl or something, and leave me alone. I can’t take your shit right now.”

The low blow doesn’t affect Taehyung in the slightest as he holds up his hands in defence with comically wide eyes. “Relax, tiger.”

“Moving on from Tae’s inability to talk to girls in broad daylight, what’s up with you Kook?” Namjoon butts in, earning a fake cough from the receiving end of the insult.

He pauses for a moment before babbling, “I hate those bitches. My mother for one, couldn’t stand wearing clothes whenever she saw a dude. Moving on from guy to guy, unless they’re a fucking asshole. What do they want? Why are they never fucking satisfied?!”

A moment of silence passes among the huddled friends before Yoongi breaks it with a joke, “Who’s the lucky girl?” It doesn’t land as Jungkook deeply sighs in response. “Did she cheat on you?” he tries again.

“No,” he murmurs.

“Then…?”

“She… I don’t fucking know, she gave me the silent treatment. She leaned away from me too,” he shakes his head with a quiet groan, “it just doesn’t add up. I got mad and left.”

“No way that could’ve ended up badly,” Taehyung chuckles but purses his lips when he’s sent another dirty look.  “How long was the interaction anyway?” 

“Like 30 seconds.”

“Are you coming out tonight?” Yoongi asks and puts out the burning tip of his stick. “Could help you feel better.”

“And we’ve got molly,” Namjoon adds.

“Yeah, fine, whatever.”

Alcohol’s effect on a person differs in moods, and Jungkook is usually a horny drunk. Being a sad drunk is a first for him tonight, but he’s just so confused. It made his heart drop when you outwardly refused his advances and anxiety blossomed in his chest, which he has no idea how to deal with. It kicked in fight or flight instincts, and he just… hated the idea of you not loving him, even if it’s momentary. He can’t bear staying in a situation that makes him feel so insecure, and that feeling is supposed to be left in his childhood. You just about brought out the worst in him without doing anything. 

You didn’t do anything.

It’s 10PM and he’s waiting on your usual good night text that he never responds to. It’s so pathetic, and he hates himself for being so used to your affection that it worries him when he’s deprived of it. He’s never doubted your love for him, but his insecurities are churning his gut. It’s an overflow of all of his pent-up emotions, and he can’t handle it.

“Here,” Taehyung pops in out of nowhere, clutching a pill in his hand. There’s a bottle of water in the other as he holds them out for Jungkook to take. “Stop moping and get laid.”

“I’d say the same to you, but you’d probably start crying during sex,” he mumbles and uncaps the bottle before throwing in the pill and washing it down with the water. “Thanks.”

“See that girl over there?” he ignores him and steps behind his miserable friend to point at the owner of the sultry gaze directed at Jungkook from the bar. “She wants to fuck you. Or maybe me, but I’m passing her onto you.”

“How kind of you,” he sarcastically replies.

“Uh-uh, so you’re gonna be in ecstasy in about 10 minutes. Don’t fuck this up.” He slaps his shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen. It’s a lonesome party because not a lot of people are allowed in when drugs are involved. Causing a ruckus, receiving a noise complaint and then getting arrested is out of the question. 

He isn’t interested in sex with a stranger - not today at least -, but he hopes for it to change as he waits to approach her. Maybe drugs will rile him up enough to have fun with someone else and rid his mind of you. It’s an annoying itch on his brain, so he rests his head against the couch to comfort himself with the soft fabric. He’s sleepy from the beer he drank earlier, and he doesn’t know how time goes by so fast when he closes his eyes.

A few minutes must have passed, because he’s starting to feel dizzy in his seat. A smile carves on his face as his mind grows slightly fogged, and he opens his eyes to find the girl quietly chatting with a friend. When she glances at him, he beckons her to come over. She mouths a “be right back” to her friend before strutting in his direction.

“Hey,” she smiles down at him before sitting on the couch. She’s aristocratic, chic and pretty. “Sorry if I weirded you out earlier.” Her voice is sweet like honey, and her words flow out of her tongue so naturally. A dream girl, really, and Jungkook is starting to get horny.

“I don’t mind,” he reassures with a subtle seductive tone, “what’s a girl like you doing with this crowd? You look too innocent.” He wraps a finger around a strand of her hair and twirls it. It feels strange.

“My friend sent me here, told me to watch over someone,” she lowly speaks. “I’m Soyeon.”

“Nice to meet you, Soyeon,” he breathes before crashing her lips with his. His hand reaches down to grip her thigh, tongue poking out to swipe the sticky gloss. It’s flavored, and it tastes of strawberry. When she kisses him back so slowly, innocently, it turns him on so much. His pants feel tight around his crotch as he runs another hand through her soft hair. Compared to him, she’s passionate whereas he’s sloppy. He’s starting to get dizzier, and it feels so fucking good, but he hates it.

There is not a single reason for him to not enjoy this, not when his mood is lifting so high. The hand on her thigh lands on her cleavage instead and she’s so submissive and shy, but something’s off. He groans into her mouth before biting her lip, ripping a whine out of her. Why does she sound so sexy and annoying?  

He pulls away from her before sighing in irritation. “Fuck, I can’t do this.” 

“Did I do something wrong?” she asks worriedly.

“No, just, fuck.” He starts laughing before rubbing his palms on his eyes, “I really want to fuck, but I just can’t.”

“We can just chat,” she softly suggests. “What’s your name?”

“Jungkook.”

He removes his hands from his face when she goes silent. Her eyes are wide and she’s gaping at him… guiltily? “Crap,” she hisses quietly, “I was supposed to make sure you were okay. My roommate is like, super in love with you and asked me to come here.”

He says your name in a question, wondering if it’s you. When she nods, he asks for your dorm instantly.

“She’s in room 124… Why?”

When he stands up, there’s a sway in his posture but he recovers quickly. There’s an involuntary grin on his face as he thanks her ignorantly. He’s out of the villa in a rush, and he has the overwhelming urge to just run. The campus is a bit far away from the house, but he doesn’t care as his footfalls echo in the dark streets. He has so much energy to waste, and with his current stamina, he’s confident he’ll find you before dawn. It’s stupid but it’s fun, and he doesn’t care for catching his breath as the corner stores pass by him in a blur. 

Throughout the two hours of his reckless jog, where he mixed up directions multiple times, his mind is starting to clear up little by little. He’s happy because of what Soyeon told him, and he feels relieved upon seeing the familiar college building. He’s not allowed in dorms at this time, but he’s done this too many times to get caught. Except he was drunk in those instances, and being on MDMA was different. Sneaking past security was tough because he couldn’t bring himself to tiptoe without making so much noise. When they glanced at him, he thought it to be the only choice to just run past them. He’s in the elevator by the time they catch on, and the numbers look wonky in his eyes but he presses the button for the right floor. 

He’s shifting his weight repeatedly in an attempt to contain his excitement; he wants to see you so bad. The moment he hears the ding of the elevator, he’s running past the halls and stops upon seeing 124. He has to squint, but he knows this is your dorm. 

You wake up with a silent gasp when there’s a pound on the door. You clutch your sheets in fear until someone starts to sing your name. “Jungkook?” you mouth to yourself. You stand up and look through the peephole and there’s a man on the other side who’s bouncing on his feet impatiently.

“Open up,” he sings loudly. You’re worried when you swing the door open and yank him inside so he doesn’t wake up any other students. You try to talk but only a wheeze comes out, so you switch on the light to see him instead. The brightness hurts your eyes as you close them for a few seconds. “Well, well, well, look who we have here…”

He starts to circle around you slowly and stumbles behind you. “Sending people to spy on me after rejecting me like that.” His words are slightly slurred and you turn around to face him with a pout. You point at your throat to give him a hint, but his eyes don’t waver from your pleading ones. “What are your intentions, huh?” he weakly pushes you, “Sending me mixed signals. Who- who do you think you are?”

You hold his hands and place them on your neck, trying to communicate with him by mouthing, “I’m sick,” but he only chuckles. He seems sickeningly joyous, but he’s not over his anger. “Still not going to talk to me? What did I even do?”

You deeply inhale from your nose because he’s not paying attention to you. You’re frustrated with yourself until he yells, “WHY WON’T YOU TALK TO ME?” The surge of serotonin, his state of euphoria is crashing down on him the more you ignore him. He had believed the drug would only make him happy, but it intensified his sadness and anxiety just as much when he saw you. It helped him forget you in a social circle, but you confused him so much after he was reassured for so long - coupled with your silence, he’s raging.

“Why are you ignoring me?! What did I do that was so bad that you can’t bear talking to me anymore? You told me you loved me, please,” he chokes and tries to swallow the lump in his throat. “I-I’ll make it up to you, I’m so sad right now. Just say something…”

You’re watching him in shock and a hint of fear from his fluctuating mood. You want to cry at how pitiful he looks, but instead you aim to grab a piece of paper from your bedside table. He misreads your actions and pushes you against the wall. “Stop this. Stop!” He has your arms pinned and he’s trying so hard to intimidate you so you give in. A dry sob leaves you because he's going mad, but then he has a sudden epiphany. “Maybe you’ll love me again if I fuck you hard enough and engrave it in your brain that you’re mine. Yes, yes!”

He starts unbuckling his belt and you immediately try to stop him; he’ll get sick! He shoves you again and pulls down his jeans before mashing his mouth against yours. All of your efforts have gone to waste when his tongue forces its way down your throat. There’s no point to denying him now, so you hesitantly kiss him back. You’re so guilty, and he’s so careless as he roughly pushes his hand down your white cotton shorts. You’re wearing a navy blue sweater to match so you don’t get cold in the night, but the shorts are meant to prevent a fever. What’s the point now, then? He hasn’t even read your texts that you only remembered to send before sleeping. He missed a whole paragraph of your explanation and confronted you so angrily.

“I’m going to fuck you all night,” he growls against your lips, “then you’ll remember how much you love me.” Your moans are quiet and hitched as he presses down on your clit through your panties. His other hand is on his cock as he strokes it eagerly, ready to get inside you. “I missed you so fucking much in one day,” he whispers in a croak. Hearing it makes you feel even warmer inside as you nudge his hand to urge him to enter you. “You missed me too, huh?” he takes notice of your neediness. “Shouldn’t have fucking brought it upon yourself then.”

He removes his hand from your shorts and taps your thighs before demanding, “Jump.” You bite your lip in consideration until he taps them harder and you quickly wrap your legs around his waist. Your shorts are relatively short, resembling loose boxers, so when your back is pressed against the wall he only pushes them and your underwear to the side before thrusting into you. A scream gets caught in your throat, and you forget all about your aches as he roughly fucks into you without caring for protection or lube. It stings only slightly, but the pleasure in feeling so full of him outweighs the pain.

Jungkook is moaning and groaning as he bruises your thighs in his hold. Your panting is all he can catch, and though the feeling of you is an amplified sensation because of the drug coursing in his system, he wants to hear you chant his name as well. “Still quiet?” he tuts and carries you to your narrow bed and you cling onto his shoulder while trying to catch your breath after the sudden attack. “Your cunt is throbbing though,” he says as he pulls out of you and drops you on the bed. He manhandles you by flipping you on your stomach and holds up your ass. He finally takes off your bottom clothing, but he’s slightly dizzy as he yanks them off your ankles. He spreads your thighs apart and you’re on your knees with your head against the mattress. “I wonder why that is,” he says before slapping your pussy, making you whimper quietly. “So wet, yet you don’t even make a sound. Some whore you are.” You purse your lips and muster a whine, but it’s interrupted when he pistons his cock inside you without warning. Your sounds are hoarse as he pounds into you from the back, hands kneading your ass to the shape of his hands. He gives it a spank as he moans loudly; the new position makes it feel so much more intense, and Jungkook loves it. His ears finally get to hear your pathetic mewls as he thrusts so deeply inside you that your vision blurs with tears and your eyes roll to the back of your skull. You feel like a doll that can’t speak or move, and he’s evidently enjoying it going by his rushed pace. You’re challenging him with your silence, and he loves proving himself.

All of a sudden however, he stops moving. You look behind you with a pout and he quirks a brow at you. You grit your teeth because you know he's waiting for you to tell him to continue, or rather daring you to do something. A sudden surge of confidence overcomes you and you gently slam your hips against his, fucking yourself on his cock with your eyes screwed shut.

“Yes, baby,” he strains, “show me that you're still my good girl.” At his encouragement, you meet his thrusts faster and you're seeing stars at how amazing it feels. You want to be his good girl so bad, and you arch your back to savour the pleasure. “Your pussy is mine, all mine,” he affirms to himself and stills your hips to turn you around without removing his length. His fingers are digging into your flesh and your tits bounce under the fabric as he rams into you restlessly. Your mouth is open in a silent scream and he can barely make out your pupils, the whites of your eyes stirring his climax at how attractive you look under the poor lighting. “I love you so fucking much,” he cries, “say it back, baby.”

You try to, but you can only dryly cough. “You fucking bitch,” he hisses at your defiance and pulls out of you to pump his length. He’s close to his release, and he pushes up your sweater to see your hard nipples that make him salivate. He crawls to slide his cock between the valley of your breasts and it hurts when he harshly pushes them together. “Stick out your tongue,” he commands in a whisper, and you do so while panting like a dog. Every time he thrusts upwards, the tip of his head grazes your tongue and leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. He’s massaging your tits as he stutters between whines, and eventually his load spurts out to land on your chest and cheek with a particularly loud groan. His cum surges down his shaft as he rides out his high with the last slow thrusts. 

“Oh fuck,” he sighs airily and collapses next to you in the tiny space available. You clumsily turn on your side to give him more room and he pecks your swollen lips. He zips his pants back up and you’re still naked from the waist down. You’re staring at each other adoringly in the romantic, fragile atmosphere; another first.

“I love you,” you croak finally. It’s quieter than a whisper, and it makes you cringe at how hideous you sound; it’s painful as well.

His face lights up once he registers your words before noticing the tone. “What happened to your voice?”

“Sick.” You can’t bring yourself to say anything more as you snuggle into his side and he instinctively wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“Shit,” he murmurs, “why didn’t you tell me that sooner, idiot?”

You slap a hand on his front pocket where his phone is, and he hastily takes it out to see a bunch of notifications from you. “You sent it at night, you’re still the idiot.” You giggle and roll your eyes. “A promise is a promise, though,” he purrs before cupping your bare heat. “I did say I would fuck you all night.” You widen your eyes when his head lowers down to face your sopping wet cunt, and he slowly licks up a stripe over your soaked folds, making you shudder and grip his hair. He’s leaving kitty licks all over your sensitivity, the tip of his tongue lightly brushing against your clit every now and then. Your hips lift involuntarily, and he finally takes your clit in his mouth and sucks on it loudly. He slurps your arousal before spitting it back on your hood, and you can only squeak in response. Your hazed mind only tells you that you want more, and he doesn’t fail to provide.

Two fingers enter your clenching hole, and he’s scissoring your walls as he messily eats you out. The pleasure from earlier returns all too soon and you know you won’t be able to last long. His lids are hooded when you glance down at him and the way he’s looking at you makes it even harder to resist your orgasm. The knot in your stomach picks back up right before unraveling and your moan is raspy as you start twitching under his relentless mouth. He grows gentle and leaves kisses all over your vulva until your body falls limp on the sheets.

After another round of penetrative sex, the two of you fall asleep from exhaustion in your bed. It’s a first for the both of you, and Jungkook decides in his drunken mind that tonight won’t be the last. It feels so intimate when he cuddles you, and you won’t ever forget his love confession.

The next morning is not so pleasant however, as Jungkook wakes up with a loud sneeze and in his now nasal voice says, “God fucking damn it.”

[postapocalyptic-cryptic-hold]

Whump Tips: Chronic Sleep Deprivation Edition

I’m back again, this time with some sleep deprivation. One thing I see a lot of is chronic sleep deprivation (two+ months) being written as similar to acute/short-term sleep deprivation (24-200 hours). It’s not! It’s actually very different! Don’t ask me how I know this, you don’t want to know. 

Now, down to business: what to keep in mind when writing a character with chronic sleep deprivation. 

Chronic sleep deprivation can be hard to detect, especially if your character thinks of themself as “not having it that bad,” “being a wimp,” or “needing to suck it up.” Five or less hours of sleep a night over two to six months can have hellish effects on your character’s physical and mental health.

Fever symptoms with no fever: your character might be baffled to discover that they’re not feverish, seeing as they’ve been cold and achy for days, suffering from hot flashes and waking up in the middle of the night confused and sore. Maybe they’re even running a low-grade fever, but most of the symptoms seem to be without cause. 

You know the thing when you’ve sat for too long and you stand up and your vision goes black? That will happen to your whumpee all the time. They’ll need to be careful, as sudden movements could cause them to pass out or feel as if they might pass out. 

This can also happen when climbing stairs, running, or otherwise exerting themself. “I’m about to pass out,” is a common thought of the chronically exhausted. 

Changes in appetite are also common, either leading to under or overeating. This can be accompanied by weight gain/loss. Your body has no clue what signals to send you. 

Headaches. This is pretty typical, but sleep deprivation makes you prone to constant headaches. Your character might also get tension headaches of the sort that originates at the back of the head and burns under the skin. 

Nausea is common, especially when your exhausted character is running on even less sleep than usual. 

Confusion or brain fog that intensifies as the exhaustion goes on. 

Insomnia. Yes, insomnia. If your character hasn’t had enough sleep in months, the sleep they do get will start to degrade, both in quality and quantity. 

Inability to stay awake/falling asleep at inappropriate times. Your character might fall asleep any time they sit down, be it in the classroom, on the job, or behind the wheel. For extra Whump Points, have other characters get mad at them for this. 

Sudden decline in mental health. Exhausted characters will likely experience acute anxiety and depression, up to and including frequent (3/week or more) panic attacks and frequent thoughts of suicide. These thoughts may be idle/intrusive thoughts, or they may be along the lines of, “I don’t want to die, but death would be better than living in this hell.”

Panic attacks upon waking up. If your character isn’t sleeping, there’s likely a reason and it’s probably that they’re too busy to sleep. Waking up is hell if you feel like you shouldn’t have fallen asleep in the first place.

These mental problems will isolate your character and exacerbate feelings of inadequacy. Feeling as though they are at fault, your character may push themself more, take on more tasks, and sleep less in an effort to prove themself. 

Sleep deprivation isn’t always obvious from the outside and can cause enough irritability and personality changes to drive people away. Your character is alone, exhausted, and extremely mentally ill. This cannot be rectified with a night of sleep. 

Sleep deprivation of this sort can take months to recover from and can, given the proper context and cause, be traumatizing.

Basically, your whumpee is in pain, anxious, depressed, and isolated for months at a time, and will probably begin to think they deserve it. Chronic sleep deprivation is so much better than acute. Use it. 

[rommahh]

Enough For You

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 4.8k

{This is my first peter fic and theres more to come. I may make a part two of this- it depends though. This work is a complete work of fiction and doesnt follow the mcus storyline of peter parker at all. Just the characters. Anyways enjoy. Much love, R.}

Peter, as smart as he can be, was a complete and utter idiot. He could read an entire textbook on quantum physics, take a test on said textbook, and ace it like it was nothing. That's how intelligent he was. But when it came to the obvious things that didn't take place in the academic world- he was an oblivious idiot.

Y/N has had a crush on Peter since they were in elementary school. Everyone in Peter and Y/N’s inner circle saw how deep in love Y/N was with Peter- except for Peter. Y/N has spent years trying to tell him how she feels but he always just interprets it as Y/N telling him how much she loves their friendship- like the idiot he is.

As senior prom slowly approached Y/N waited for the moment where Peter would ask her to the dance. They both were not dance people but senior prom was so different. Y/N just wanted to spend the night with her closest friends before they all went their separate ways for college. Normally Y/N and Peter went to every dance together, but as prom got closer, Y/N started to worry that he wouldn't even ask her. And unfortunately, she was right to think that.

Ned, Peter, MJ, and Y/N all sat at a round table on their school's campus during their lunch period talking and eating. The conversation of prom came up making Y/N’s ears perk up hoping to hear the words she's been waiting for from Peter.

“So Peter, what are your prom plans?” MJ asked, chewing on some of Y/N’s carrots from her lunch. Y/N looked at Peter waiting for his answer. He blushed, rubbing the back of his neck to ease his nerves.

“I'm actually going to prom with Liz. I asked her yesterday after school and she said yes.” He smiled happily of the thought of him and Liz dancing at prom. Y/N on the other hand felt her heart clench uncomfortably. MJ looked just as shocked as Y/N hearing Peter's words. Ned looked up from his comic book as an uncomfortable silence filled the table.

Quickly, Y/N packed her lunch back into her lunch bag and slung her bookbag haphazardly over her shoulder. Her face was scrunched up as she tried to contain her tears. “Sorry guys, I completely forgot that I have to help Mrs. Anderson with some...thing.”

Rushing away, the group was left to watch Y/N’s figure scurry away from the table. Tom looked at her in confusion before looking at his other best friends trying to figure out what had just happened.

“What just happened? Is she Ok?” He asked getting his stuff ready so he could go and follow the girl. MJ put a hand on his arm to stop him from packing up.

“I think you should just let her be alone for a minute… So you and Liz huh?”

“I- yeah I've had a crush on her for years now. I thought I told you guys this.” Peter’s hands fiddled with the book in front of him. Ned shared a look with MJ making Peter look at them confused again. “Guys, what aren't you telling me? What's going on?”

“Sorry dude, it's not our place to say. You should probably talk to her after school.” Ned replied, patting Peter on the back trying to comfort him. The bell interrupted any further conversation from happening. The trio went their separate ways to class after saying an awkward goodbye.

Peter spent the whole day with his mind clouded with thoughts. He racked his brain for any possible reason as to why Y/N were so upset.

After school, Peter showed up to a Y/N’s house hoping to talk to the girl and figure out why his best friend was so upset. Y/N’s mom gave Peter a small smile when he approached the house, nodding her head to where the backyard was located to say where Y/N was at.

Y/N sat on a quilt made by her grandmother on the soft gras of her backyard. A large tree covered her from the sun that was slowly beginning its descent into the night. She looked up from the book she was reading hearing the sound of footsteps coming towards her. Peter stood there, backpack on one shoulder, hands in both sweater pockets just waiting.

“Hey.” Peter said, setting his backpack down before sitting across from the girl on the soft quilt.

“Hi Peter.” She quietly replied, keeping her head low so she couldn't meet his eyes.

“Can you tell me what happened today? You seemed upset. Did something happen in class?” He asked, his hand reaching out to tilt her face to look at him. She looked at his face, seeing his furrowed eyebrows and watching as his eyes searched her face for any clue as to what was wrong.

“You're taking Liz to prom.” She finally spoke after a moment of silence.

“I'm taking Liz to prom.” He confirmed still sitting there in confusion.

“I wanted you to ask me to prom.”

“Oh.” Y/N stopped looking at Peter, her hands playing with the frayed edges of her ripped jeans.

“Oh? You always ask me to school dances and I just thought…”

“Thought what? Y/N I dont get what you're saying. We did go to past dances together but this is prom you know. I really like Liz so I asked her.” He said still not putting two and two together to understand the issue.

“To be the smartest boy in our school, you are the biggest idiot ever.” Peter scoffed, offended by her comment. “Peter, I love you.”

“What?” Peter was shocked by her statement.

“I've liked you since the 4th grade and I guess I assumed you had started to like me too. I thought you were going to ask me to prom because you- you liked me too?” She looked at him again, face flushed and shoulders tense with anxiety.

“Y/N...I'm sorry but I- I dont like you like that. I didn't know that you did like me like that.” He watched as her shoulder dropped in defeat. Tears pooled in her eyes spilling onto her cheeks. She quickly wiped her face off with her hands. “Please don't cry, i'm so sorry. I still want to be friends though.”

She chuckled at his words. “I don't think we can be friends, Peter. I think it would be best for myself if we weren't friends.”

Her words cut like knives through his heart. He stood up abruptly as anger flooded through his body.

“So we can't be friends now? We've been friends since kindergarten. You are my best friend Y/N and you're going to throw it away over this?” His voice rose as he spoke. Y/N stood as well, anger taking over her as she listened to Peter raise his voice at her.

“Do you know what it feels like to watch someone you love not love you back?” She yelled at him, Peter’s eyes widened in shock having never heard his best friend speak like this before. “Do you know what it's like to watch the person you love have crushes on everybody but you? Do you know what it's like to not be enough? What is it about Liz that I don't have? You don't even know her!”

“You're mad at me for not liking you back? I can't control my feelings Y/N and I'm sorry for that but I don't want to lose our friendship. Please don't do this.” He held her face in his hands brushing the stray tears from her face. She shook her head free, backing away from him. Her hands clutched her arms, folding on top of her chest.

“I'm sorry Peter that I couldn't be good enough for you.” She gave him a small heartbroken smile before grabbing the book she was reading and went inside of her house. Peter watched as his best friend walked away from him for the second time that day. His chest felt tight, hands shaking as he thought about the ending of friendship he held dear to his heart.

Peter dreaded going to school. He spent the whole night being forced awake by panic attacks and non-stop crying. He had never felt a heartbreak like this. He's heard people say that friendship breakups are harder than relationship breakups and Peter can attest to that. Granted he's never been in a relationship, but he's going through a heartbreak he's never felt before.

He got ready for school slowly, relishing in the comfort of his room before exiting out into the living room of the apartment. He gathered his backpack that had been thrown carelessly in the living room out of anger as Aunt May watched him from the hallway before her bedroom. She decided against asking him what was wrong because she didn't want him to become even more upset on his way to school. Her heart aches as she watches her boy frown and wander around with sadness looming on his face.

At school, Ned and Mj waited for Peter at his locker like the group normally does. This time, Y/N was nowhere to be seen. Peter walked up to his locker, unlocking it and grabbing his things from inside of it for class.

“Did you guys know she liked me?” Peter asked after standing in silence with the group for a few moments. They looked at Peter in pity before nodding yes. Peter shook his head, upset with himself for never noticing the obvious feelings coming from his best friend.

The group walked to their first period class, Ned and Mj making small talk whereas Peter walking listening in on the conversation. Sitting in their normal seats, they waited for the first bell to ring that determined when the first period would begin.

The door of the classroom opened showing Y/N with arms filled with her textbooks and backpack slipping off of her arms. MJ thought Peter looked bad but Y/N probably looked worse. Her eyes were puffy carrying bags of sleeplessness and her overall appearance looked tired. The Y/N the group knew would come to school always dressed for success wearing the cutest outfits and makeup done to perfection. She wasn't over the top with it but she always looked so well put together. Today, she was wearing leggings and a ratty hoodie. Her hair didn't look like it normally did, her face was bare of makeup.

She moved slowly looking for an open table in the classroom. She saw one in the back of the room near the window and walked over to claim it as her own. Her friend group watched in shock as she walked past them and towards the empty table. Peter’s chest hurt so bad watching her walk past them. Mj and Ned were upset too but they had spoken to her before school and understood her want for space.

“She doesn't have to sit all the way over there.” Peter whispered still staring at Y/N as she settled into her seat in the back of the room.

“It's ok, she just wants space and that's ok.” Mj reassured him, rubbing his shoulder as he laid his head down on the table. He didn't know how he would cope without his best friend or lack thereof.

Lunchtime came sound and normally the friend group would sit outside together if the weather was nice. They've always done this since freshman year. They would sit at the wood tables and share their lunch with each other. Y/N would normally share her fruits and vegetables knowing that her friends packed unhealthy junk food.

Today was different though. Mj, Peter, and Ned sat at the table without her. Her spot at the table is empty leaving an uncomfortable gap at the round table. Y/N found herself seated inside of the library by the window that looked out on the wooden tables she would normally sit at.

Y/N sat in the quiet library crying her eyes out as she watched her friends comfort Peter. She was hurting so bad knowing that she ruined her friendship. She wishes that she never said anything. That she just let Peter be happy with his newfound relationship with Liz. She wanted to be happy for him but she had some resentment towards him. She understood he couldn't control his feelings but she hurt knowing that he never in the years they've known each other he's never looked at her more than a friend.

She wiped her tears from her face, pulling her neatly packed lunch box out of her backpack. She stared down at her lunch, sad that she had no one to share with anymore.

“Hey, do you mind if I sit here?” A voice said from above Y/N. Looking up she saw Bryant, another senior in her class, standing with his lunch.

“Oh- yeah, sure, of course.” Y/N stuttered making room at the table for his things. The table was large enough for the two of them so there was no real reason for her to say that he couldn't sit with her. Bryant was the captain of the baseball team at their highschool. He wasn't like the cliche popular kids at school who stayed within their cliques but he was very sweet and attentive to anyone he crossed paths with.

“Thank you! I saw you sitting by yourself and it kinda looked like you needed a friend.” He commented setting his salad from the cafeteria down along with his backpack that seemed too empty for a highschool seniors backpack. “So, how's today going for you?”

Y/N was taken aback by the boy's boldness. This was her first time ever talking to him and he wants to know about her day? She was baffled.

“I-It's been slow I guess. I'm ready to go home honestly.” He nodded, chewing on his salad.

“I feel that. I wish I could go home after school. I've got prom preparation after school, so annoying.” He rolled his eyes at the thought. “I don't know if you know but my name is Bryant, it's real nice to meet you.”

Sticking his hand out to shake, Y/N grasped it hesitantly.

“I'm Y/N, I think we had english together last year.”

“Yeah we did didn't we. I hated that class, you were awesome in it though.” She blushed at the compliment. “But yeah, I know who you are. You're apart of Peter’s little group.”

“Oh yeah, I was.” She shrugged emotions overwhelming her again.

“Was? You obviously don't have to tell me, but I hope you're ok.” Bryant smiled at Y/N and Y/N was blown away by his kindness.

“Peter and I aren't friends anymore. He's going to prom with Liz and I just thought that maybe he would have asked me.” Bryant felt bad for Y/N. He could see how hurt she was despite her wearing a smile on her face. Y/N wasn't a stranger in this school. She played a large role in academics and actively participated in multiple clubs. The Y/N Bryant saw before wasn't present today and it was sad.

“I know we've just met but I don't have a date to prom either...if you would like to go with me. I wanted to go with Jordan but it turns out he is not actually into very beautiful and athletic boys.” Y/N laughed along with Bryant.

“I would love to go to prom with you as long as we can coordinate outfits.” Bryant laughed some more agreeing with her. Y/N looked down at the lunch before sliding over a few snacks toward Bryant. Y/N still felt the sadness of letting go of her best friend lingering with her but it felt nice to meet someone new. Not someone to replace her Peter but someone to remind her that life goes on and that she'd be ok in the long run.

Weeks have passed since Peter and Y/N’s fallout and it was a weird few weeks. School was coming to an end, cap and gowns were slowly being handed out for graduation and prom posters were posted everywhere.

Y/N was still avoiding Peter at all costs but she apologized to Ned and Mj for ignoring their feelings. She didn't want them to feel like they had to be in the middle of this mess. She didn't want them to feel like she also ditched them too. They understood her, they knew how hard it was for her to remove herself from their friend group for the sake of her mental health.

Y/N and Bryant continued to grow closer. He was a good distraction from her current problems. She also learned that he was bisexual and that Jordan was also on the baseball team who was too scared to come out and go to prom with Bryant. Bryant was someone Y/N didn't expect to befriend her. His kindness made her feel so much better after what had happened.

Peter struggled badly. He had been so happy to finally get the girl he had been pining after for years but seeing Y/N cry because of him hurt so much. It made him rethink his whole friendship with her. Did he really only think of her as a friend?

Peter watched everyday as Y/N grew closer to Bryant, a warm feeling entered his belly every time he saw the two together. It wasn't a pleasant warm feeling, it was a feeling that made him overthink everything he did. It was a feeling that made his face scrunch up and his head fill with sickness. His thoughts became muddled, words not making sense as he watched the two. He was jealous. Did he recognize it as jealousy, no, because Peter was an idiot.

Prom season was hectic and fun all at the same time. People were hardcore prepping for the dance. Money was being saved for the before dance dinner and the stretch limo that would provide a chariot to the dance.

The mall was beyond crowded, Bryant led the way with Y/N pushing through crowds of people to reach the small dress shop they had been dying to go to all day. The small dress shop was locally owned by a hispanic couple who hand made the dresses in the shop. The dresses they had were beautiful, all arraying from different colors, sizes, and silhouettes. Y/N tried on almost every dress in the store that was in her size.

“This is useless, these dresses are gorgeous but I feel like I look so stupid.” Y/N huffed sitting next to Bryant on the velvet loveseat that sat in front of the dressing room. Y/N was near tears out of pure frustration.

“Stop it, I thought you looked amazing in every single one of those dresses. I think you're just too into your own head. What's up girl?” He put an arm around her shoulders laying his head on top of hers.

“I just want to look good. Good like Liz…” She whispered the last part out of embarrassment. Bryant scoffed.

“You're joking right? You two are incomparable people. She's pretty in her own ways just as you are. Are you comparing yourself to her because of Peter?” Bryant exclaimed loudly, catching the attention of the woman who owns the shop.

“Peter likes Liz.” Was all that Y/N could muster, pouting at her own words.

“Here mija.” The woman who owned the shop came walking over to Y/N with a beautiful pink dress in her hands. “I made this a week ago but havent even put it on the floor yet.”

Y/N shook her head furiously, “No I couldn't.”

“No, please try it on and if you like it, it's yours.” The woman insisted on a bright smile playing on her face.

“Its-Its mine?”

“Yes honey, you obviously need this dress more than I do. You need a dress that will make you feel beautiful and I think this will do.”

Y/N tried on the dress watching it flow down to the floor. It was a pretty pink color with flowers at the top. Buttons adorned the middle of the dress cinching the waist and the bottom of the dress flowed to the floor in bunches.

Stepping out of the dressing room, dressed clad on her body, Bryants mouth dropped in shock at the sight of her.

“Holy….” He was at a loss for words. Y/N blushed, turning to look at herself in the mirror, her own mouth dropping in shock.

“...Shit” She finished.

“You look amazing mija. It's all yours, please, you have to wear that to your dance.” The woman begged Y/N. Y/N nodded, smiling at herself in the mirror. It had been weeks since she felt like her normal self. She had spent so many days pondering about why Peter liked Liz more than her. Why Liz got Peter versus Y/N getting peter. But now it wasn't about Peter.

The woman walked with Y/N up to the front of the store, carefully wrapping the dress in a delicate box.

“No boy should ever determine his worth.” The woman said, handing the box over. “You are beautiful and I'm sure Liz is too but you, you are a gorgeous young woman who will encounter many men or women or people in general who will want to be in your life simply because you are you.”

Y/N thought about the shop owner's words as both Bryant and her maneuvered through the mall's crowds. Y/N grasped the corner of Bryants elbow as he carried their shopping bags. He made small jokes making Y/N laugh. He kissed her on the cheek endearingly as she laughed some more.

Unknown to Y/N, Peter stood a few feet away from the couple as they walked by holding onto each other looking like...a couple. That warm feeling reentered Peter's belly, sickness looming over his head making him feel lightheaded. Peter watched the couple walk away with sadness filling his heart. He missed being Y/N’s best friend. He missed their walks through the mall where he would buy her all the pretzels she wanted while holding her bags of useless junk she spent hundreds on. He missed her.

Prom night came quickly after finals finished on campus. Y/N put on her dress and had her hair and makeup done by her mom. Standing in front of her mirror she made sure she was ready to go. Her mother called her to the front door signalling Bryant was there to pick her up.

Bryant showered Y/N in compliments, getting his matching pink tie tied by Y/N’s dad. They both exchanged corsages and boutineers that were adorned by pretty white flowers. They took pictures in the backyard by Y/N’s tree posing in silly poses and in your typical prom poses.

Peter stood outside of Liz’s house filled with dread. He realized that this was not the place that he wanted to be. He wanted to be at Y/N’s house taking pictures, eating her parents food, and laughing about the stupid things they normally joke about. He wanted to watch as Y/N showed off her dress to him. He wanted to be the one to bring her a bouquet of flowers that she would dry up in her journal for safe keeping. But instead he was here, in front of Liz’s mansion, hurting.

The dance was at full blast when Y/N and Bryant arrived- late because Bryant believed being fashionably late was the best type of late. They walked around the venue hand in hand as Bryant showed off all of the things he contributed to the dance. Bryant left Y/N in the flower photo room having been called away to help fix something for the dance. Y/N admired the walls covered in small and large flowers.

“Woah.” Someone gasped from behind Y/N. Turning around she came face to face to a red faced peter. “You look…ethereal, is that even the right word?”

Peter couldn't stop staring at how beautiful Y/N looked. Her dress made her stand out from the rest. Butterflies erupted in his stomach replacing the warm feeling of jealousy he had been previously feeling.

“Oh, hi Peter.” Y/N was filled with nerves as he slowly walked towards her. “How are you?”

“I don't feel too good honestly. I messed up a really good thing I think and I want to fix it. I never realized how much you meant to my life until I lost you. I know that's cheesy but it's true.” He quietly uttered, staring into her eyes. “I don't want us to stop being friends and I think I do like you.”

“You think?” She questioned looking at him hopefully.

“I- yeah I think.”

He thinks. He doesn't know if he likes her but he thinks he does. Y/N shook her head disappointed.

“Peter, I've spent the last three weeks wondering why I wasn't good enough for you to like me. I only just realized that I was good enough maybe not for you but for other people. Since we were kids I always did things in hopes of catching your attention. I joined the debate team because you did. I joined the academic team because you became the captain. I even tried to apply to be an intern at stark industries so I could work with you without even realizing that stark industries didn't have internships. And that spiderman started appearing a lot more after said internship appeared.” She had a knowing smile on her face.

“Oh so you know.” He looked down at the ground embarrassed to be exposed.

“Peter, I know so much about you. I know you better than Mj and Ned that's the whole reason why we are best friends. I know how you like your sandwiches- breakfast and lunch. I know how you organize your school work. I know that you like to specifically request time in the lab in the morning because all of the equipment is freshly washed and you like to first pick at the goggles and coats. Peter, I know you don't like me. You feel bad and miss me but you don't like me.” She walked to him, placing her hands on his cheeks. He melted into her hands.

“But I think I do Y/N.”

“Ok so say you think you like me, I would prefer to have you when you know you like me not when you have only developed small feelings after not having me for a few weeks. Peter, I'm in love with you. I'm in a lot deeper than a few small feelings. I don't want to make you be in a relationship when we are in two very different places.” She sniffled a little one hand coming to stop the tears from ruining her makeup.

“I want nothing more than to be your best friend again but I can't.” He couldn't stop his tears from falling at those words. “I can't go back to being the girl who did nothing for herself and everything for the boy she loves. I need more for myself. I'm going to college and I don't even know how to just be me without you and I need to learn how.”

He absorbed her words, crying free flowing tears.

“I want you to be happy Y/N.” He nodded, she swiped her thumbs under his eyes. She smiled sweetly at him. Placing a sweet kiss on his lips, Y/N  gave him one last smile before walking away from him.

Y/N walked away with her heart feeling light. She felt like a burden had been lifted off of her shoulders. Her intent wasn't to hurt Peter but she needed to say what had been in her mind for weeks. She knew he would eventually move on from his slight crush on her and so would she. She would move on eventually, it would be a slow and hard process but it would happen. And she would never fully get over him. She's been in love with him since they were kids- it's all she's ever known. But for right now she was focusing on loving herself and growing into the person she was meant to be- without Peter.

[forcebewitht]

You Must Really Be A Diamond...Because You're Still Shining For Me  (Aftermath Overblot!Jamil Viper X Reader) 

It had now been about an hour or two. Since Jamil fiercely kissed you. Since Jamil went on a rampage with the students as he Overblotted. Since your friends were swatted away like mere flies into the depths of the Scarabia Dorm. But, even still, Jamil kept you by his side and treated you like his little queen. And you, hoping that your friends would come and eventually bail you both out, simply played along. Jamil gave out orders to the Scarabia residents here and there, soon followed up by a sweet remark or brief quip to you. "Bring out the food and drinks! Today, we celebrate the day that simpleton of a sultan was overpowered and made way for someone more capable! Ahhh...I feel so refreshed...I've got an endless supply of magic…[Y/n], darling, won't you be a sweet little thing and tell those peons what you want? It also would make your Sultan very happy to hear your adoring words of praise once more~'' One of the Scarabia residents hung their head low, now groaning out a reply to the prior command like a zombie. Soon, the entire group was groaning out their praises, to which Jamil released a chuckle of triumph. "Hahaha...that's right. Tell me more about myself." Your nerves were shot, but nothing made you jump more than hearing some familiar voices pitch in. "You are incredibly handsome…"  That voice belonged to Azul, who very swiftly yet soundlessly seemed to be slinking through the crowd towards you. Once he caught your gaze, he sent you a wink that seemed to relieve your prior stress. Grim was next, gently stepping around the crowds of Jamil's brainwashed Scarabia residents. "Tall...and dark…"  Grim almost had a start when he looked at your current appearance, but given a slight head nod from you, he kept his mouth shut and kept going. Next was Jade, who was following closely behind Azul. "Your eyes are so angular...so intelligent…" Next was both Floyd and Kalim, who both flashed you bright smiles to ease your prior anxiety even more. "You're so fashionable~" "You look super strong, you know!" Nodding along with your friends, you gently pet Jamil under his chin. "I'm spellbound." Jamil's lips curled into a grin at you, allowing his head to turn. "Mmmmm...what a wonderful compliment…" Then, the other voices seemed to hit him all at once. His head snapped back over, his eyes widening in shock. "Geh- you're all-" 

Jamil seemed utterly shocked to his core as he slowly stood up, having a snake curl around your waist and gently place you on the ground beside his throne. "I sent you all flying into the middle of the desert! How did you get back here so quickly?!" You were silent and quick to slink back over to your friends as they began to explain..well, more like boasting- how they used Kalim's Unique Magic to fill up a river, along with Jade and Floyd's eel forms, to swiftly swim back over. Upon seeing you standing back with your team, Jamil's gaze softened for a moment, as though he was truly hurt. Then, it hardened all over again as he released a growl. Kalim soon stepped up with a determined look, everyone else getting into their battle poses under your direction. "I challenge you, Jamil...for the seat of Dormhead you stole from me. I plan to take it back." Jamil folded his arms, his prior, cold gaze growing even harsher at Kalim's claim. "I stole it? Hmph...big talk! Even though you're the one who stole everything from ME!" You blinked a few times in shock, allowing your head to tilt. There it was again...that same, faint sparkle near Jamil's heart as you had seen with Riddle, Leona, and Azul's hearts before. Like it was calling out to you for help. A sudden burst of power caught your attention, your gaze flicking back up to Jamil's. "Let me show all of you a taste of my true power! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" 

And with that, Jamil charged, already heading straight for Kalim. You were swift enough to dodge out of the way as Grim launched a fireball right at Jamil. It shot him right in the chest, the male releasing a grunt at the impact. His snakes flared and all hissed at Grim at the same time. With a swirl of his hand, one of them came off and began to swiftly slither towards Grim. It began to bite at the air, hoping to grasp the monster in its fangs. Grim began to run around in a circle, shouting something about not being a fan of the little pest in terror. Jade and Floyd both stood back to back, the two of them now launching their own attacks at Jamil. Jamil took the one from Jade but swatted the one from Floyd right back at him. The Tweel went flying into a nearby pile of carpets, to which Jade looked back to his twin to check on him. Once he was certain he was alright, given a thumbs up from beneath the carpets from Floyd, Jade continued his prior assault. Right after said attack, Kalim charged for Jamil, the two men now quite literally wrestling on the ground. Snakes began to nip and bite at Kalim, but the red-eyed boy held his ground. Using his Unique Magic, he began to pelt the snakes with water, making them hiss out in pain. Azul was swift to dart over to Grim, taking the head of the snake that was chasing him and crushing it under the bottom of his cane. Grim then turned, and with a battle cry, set the snake on fire. The snake soon dissolved into nothing more than pure ashes, to which Grim and Azul quickly high-fived and shared a smile for their efforts. Jamil soon kicked Kalim off of him entirely, now sending him flying right into the pile of carpets where Floyd had just been crawling out. The two boys collided with each other, now both Floyd and Kalim being within the pile at the same time. A snake curled around Jade's throat, now promptly choking the Tweel out. He began to choke, raising his arms and attempting to pull the snake off of him. You and Azul charged at the same time, Azul swiftly unlodging the snake from Jade's throat with his cane, and you smacked it down onto the ground with a nearby vase you had picked up. Shards of the antique flew everywhere as the snake hissed in pain. Grim charged over once more, setting this snake ablaze like he had with the one before. Once it was nothing more than ashes, Azul held onto Jade with an arm while you fished Kalim and Floyd out of their pile. Soon, your group turned their gazes onto Jamil, and they all began to fire multiple spells at once. Despite his overpowered state, Jamil was vulnerable due to his hysterics, like the others had been before. It didn't take long for Jamil to crouch onto a knee, those sparkles from before now seeming to trickle from within his very heart. 

His voice was weak and pained now. "Number...one….I thought...I could finally be free…." Now grasping the light, you arose and dashed to Jamil's side. His eyes weakly flickered up to meet your own. You gently held out your hand with a warm smile. Silence passed over the dorm. While Jamil seemed reluctant at first, he eventually took your hand in his own with a tear in his eye. You took hold of his other hand, now swiftly pulling him to his feet and ripping him towards you in a hug. Though he was taken aback, the male soon hugged you back, tears gently beginning to cascade down his face. Your vision began to turn white as a light was cast over both you and Jamil, making your group cover their eyes. You knew what time it was. Soon, you could see the foggy images and memories begin to play out of Jamil's past, his voice strong and clear despite you feeling like you were underwater. You could hear both his voice as a child's and Kalim's along with him, your form soon being swiftly pulled through the various scenes Jamil's inner self played out. "The earliest memory I have is of my parents bowing their heads in submission to Kalim's parents...I loathed seeing them like that." You turned your head as another memory popped up, one of Jamil's parents telling him to keep a losing streak up to Kalim. Your heart wretched at the sight. Shouldn't parents only wish the best for their children? "Kalim's family is way above my own...which means...he is above me. Therefore, whether it's grades, athletics, or games...I can never allow Kalim to surpass me." The coldness and pain in Jamil's voice as he spoke was undeniable. Your gaze softened even further than it had before, for you could see Jamil's hooded form standing directly beside you now as he kept on speaking. "To keep pace with Kalim, I pretend to be incapable of anything." Another memory of Kalim and Jamil began to play out as the figure of Jamil beside you seemed to stiffen. "...You haven't beaten me. I've been letting you win all along. With that airhead look….pay attention, Mr. Oblivious!" Another memory began to play out, but this time, it was of both Crowley and Kalim speaking. Crowley mentioned something about...a transfer? You soon felt your opinions on Crowley begin to shift. Was he really so easily bought? "Adults always say the same thing. "I'm sure you understand". But, who is going to try and understand me?" Jamil's hooded head soon turned to face you, his body turning to follow suit. He looked exhausted and pained. Kalim's voice soon came through the memory once more. "We have to work together, Jamil! Okay! Ahaha!" Jamil's body and voice began to shake as his eyes were filled with utter rage at the mere sound of Kalim's voice came through. "...E-enough…" Kalim's voice soon came through once more, his voice even brighter than before. "Jamil is the only one who'd never betray me!" Jamil began to shake even more, now beginning to curl in on himself in rage despite standing up. "THAT'S ENOUGH! Kalim, as long as you're there….I-i…I'll have to live my life handing everything over to you! I-i….even I want to be...number...one…" Your lips soon curled into an inviting smile. You turned to face Jamil as the last memory faded out. Taking both of his hands in yours, you beam up at the boy. His gaze soon flickered over to meet yours, silent tears running down his cheeks. But soon, his legs crumbled and he fell to his knees. You caught him and held the male close, allowing him to silently sob in your arms. Your vision soon began to fade to black…..

"Jamil….JAMIL!"  Kalim's voice was the first thing you heard as you began to reawaken. Your eyes fluttered open and you turned your head to the side. You and Jamil had both passed out side by side, still holding each other's hands. Soon, you begin to sit up as Jamil did the same. "Ugghhh….my head...where am…" Jamil slowly turned his head to you, then to everyone else. They were all crowded around the two of you. Everyone began to give their relieved statements, Jade and Floyd being the pair to help you stand completely. You hung back as Jamil and Kalim began to teasingly reconcile. Azul even began to praise Jamil on his tactics and intelligence and offered for the male to join Octavinelle, which Jamil declined with a wild smirk. Soon, you made your way over to a nearby fountain and sat down, letting your finger gently trace circles in the water below. The sound of footsteps caught your attention, to which your head turned. It was Jamil, who was now pulling his hood off. His gaze met yours and softened, the male's head now slanting at the sight of your figure. "[Y/n]. If it's not too much for me to ask….may I…" Soon gathering what he meant, you slid over for Jamil to take a seat. Jamil exhaled in relief, now taking his place beside you. His gaze soon trailed back over to the water as he seemed to carefully mull over his words. Thankfully, you were the one to begin to speak first. "If this is about the whole Overblot thing and the...lovely outfit change? Don't worry about it. I was fine." Jamil glanced over, already chuckling at your rather blunt statement. "Ah...you are rather bright. Although, I truly must...apologize for before. And...I know what you saw. What you heard. What you felt. We were both right there, after all. I….did not mean to lose my composure. You may hate me for that, little diamond...I will take it in stride." Jamil placed both of his hands onto his head, allowing his eyes to screw shut. You could have sworn you saw a few tears pricking his eyes. Glancing over to a blossoming vine nearby, you gently pluck a bright jasmine flower from the vine. Turning to Jamil, you learn over, now tucking this jasmine flower into his hair. Jamil's eyes flicker open in shock, his expression now a bit more loving than before. "....What...after all I did...you still…" He seemed to be at a loss for words. You smiled once the flower was in place, now taking both of his hands in your own once again. "Don't you worry, Jamil. I'm here for you. Now and always. Though I can't do anything about your struggles in the past, I can help you push through to the future. I've got your back." Jamil's eyes filled with tears once more, one breaking free from the rest and trickling down his face. He wipes it away with a hand, releasing a breathless chuckle at you. Then, he begins to smirk, now taking another jasmine flower nearby and placing it into your hair. "...Just know I won't go easy on you, either. I'm through with that." Jamil sent you a wink and you allowed your head to slightly tilt back in a laugh. "Ohhh, I didn't think so. I don't think I'd have it any other way. Just, promise me something? Don't turn into Medusa again, okay? Snakes are slimy." Jamil began to laugh right along with you at your quip, the two of you enjoying each other's company for the time being. Once your laughter had died down, you both met each other's gazes. Without a second thought, the two of you seemed to drift towards each other, a sweeter kiss than the one from before being shared. Jamil hummed into your lips as he gently cupped your face with his hands, a breeze being swept over your two forms. 

As you both separated, Jamil's gaze had softened once more. "You must truly be a diamond, [Y/n]...because you're still shining for me."

((Hey Hey Hey, everyone! Its finally here! I had a complete and total ball writing this one! The pain yet eventual happiness is real here! Next up will be Aftermath Overblot!Azul Ashengrotto x Reader! Hope you all enjoyed and I hope you have a fantastic day~💖🌹

Fanart Link: https://www.zerochan.net/3013185

[jinmukangwrites]

@damianwayneweek Day 1 (6-13): Truth serum | Damian Wayne Protection Squad™ | Best friends to lovers

Note: Rushed. I'm sure it's still the 13th somewhere.

Warnings: kidnapping, nonconsensual drugging, needles.

-o-o-o-o-

Dick wakes to the taste of blood on his tongue.

Thankfully, after slowly moving his tongue around, it's just because he bit the inside of his cheek sometime between when he was knocked out and when he woke up. His head pounds like a war-drum with his heart as he tries to get ahold of his situation. Without opening his eyes, he assess his arms are restrained behind his back and he's sitting on an uncomfortable metal chair. His legs are also tied to the chair, keeping him from running.

The suit he wears feels suffocating, proof that—once again—him wearing Batman's cowl isn't some sort of sick joke. However, his shoulders are a bit lighter suggesting his cape has been taken. Not that he'll mourn it.

His cowl is on. He silently curses himself for not checking that first. It would be the first thing Bruce checked.

He always prioritized the identity. The mission. Secrecy before safety, Gotham before everything else. Not injuries, not friends, not family, partners-

Dick's eyes fly open, reminding him of the real thing he should have checked for first.

"Robin," he gasps out loud, looking wildly around the room and tugging on the ropes holding his back to the chair.

The room is dark and small, the walls made of cinder bricks that have water mold where it connects to the cement floor. In front of him is a metal table with a black, palm sized box placed on top. Dick ignores that for now and looks to his side, only relaxing when he finds Damian to his right, tied similarly to another chair with his chin to his chest. Only unconscious, Dick notes as he watches his stomach rise and fall.

However, anxiety flutters in his gut when he sees there's a dried trail of blood running down the side of his head.

"Robin," he tries again, knowing at the back of his head that Bruce would be telling him to be quiet. Check for cameras. Look for an escape route. Don't let them know you're awake until you have a plan-

Dick shakes his head. Damian could have a concussion, and that takes priority. Dick could have one as well, considering how badly his head hurts, but Damian is only ten years old and Dick knows better than anyone the lingering effects injuries could have when you're a child.

He presses his feet to the ground and pushes, attempting to slide closer to his protege. He does nothing more than jolt in place. There's not enough leverage.

However, it seems the sound of the metal scraping against the ground is enough to wake up the boy. He comes to with a small groan and a pain laced crease between his brow.

"Robin," Dick repeats a third time. He can do nothing but sit as Damian blinks slowly behind his mask; his shoulders tensing as he too notices the restraints.

Damian opens his mouth, but before any words could leave there's a loud clang. The door in front of Dick and Damian, on the other side of the table, swings open.

In walks three men; two are unfamiliar, but the third Dick recognizes from the case files he and Damian got from Gordon about a week ago. Jonas Gibbs. Known arms dealer and smuggler. He's made his moves in Gotham these past few weeks, getting the police and public nervous about shootings with illegal guns. Batman and Robin had finally pinned down the date, time, and location of his next shipment and intended to take him down then, but he was smart and had hired help from various mercenaries that Dick could confidently bet used to be in the military before they were dishonorably discharged.

The way they moved, worked, and attacked was too strategic and planned. It was only a matter of time before one got a lucky hit on Damian; a blow with the butt of their rifle across the kid's forehead. The barrel of the rifle pointed down at Damian's unconscious body was all it took for Dick to raise his hands in surrender.

And now they're here, in some damp old room. Tied to chairs. A table placed in front of them with a mysterious box set on top of it.

"Perfect timing," Gibbs says, grinning. The two other men, clearly mercs, stand on either side of him as he drags up a chair and sits on the other side of the table. "I was almost afraid we'd have to dump water to get you up."

"What do you want?" Dick growls. He must want something. He hasn't taken off the cowl… or at least he hasn't tried to get through the various traps to pull it off. It means he must need something that an identity reveal wouldn't give him.

"I'm glad you asked, Batman," Gibbs says, a grin spreading on his face. He looks to one of his goons and they immediately pull a small camera out from a bag they had around their shoulder. He points it at Dick.

Dick gets a bad feeling about all of this.

"I want you to tell your real name for the camera."

Dick glares. "Are you serious?"

"Very. One of my men has second degree burns thanks to that cowl of yours electrifying him. So, I decided I'll let you go without any more harm. You tell me your names, and I'll let you go. Won't even show the video to anyone. Well," he smirkes, "unless you get in my way."

Dick clenches his jaw. Besides him, Damian mumbles something.

"I'm going to give you to the count of three," Gibbs says, unphased. "Otherwise it will get unpleasant."

His eyes drift to the black box, signifying it's mysterious importance. Dick doesn't let it scare him. He's not going to let this low life criminal blackmail him... put him and his family in danger. He'll take whatever will be thrown at him until he can work out a way to escape.

Gibbs counts down, and he reaches zero uninterrupted.

"Well," Gibbs says, unsurprised. "The hard way then. Gag him."

The grunts move like clockwork, and before Dick knows it his face is being grabbed and held in place while the other shoves a rag into his mouth and wraps a layer of tape around his face to hold it there.

"Batman..." he hears Damian mumble as the grunts back up. He sounds out of it. In pain. Dick can only hope that the hit he took to his head isn't too serious.

Gibbs retakes his attention, however, when he reaches forward and presses a hatch on the side of the black box, flicking it open on spring-loaded hinges. What's inside makes Dick's stomach drop. A needle and a glass vial filled with a yellow tinted liquid lays neatly inside. One of the grunts lifts the needle and the vial to begin filling it up.

"Do you know what this is?" Gibbs asks as the liquid fills the syringe. "I've yet to test it on anyone, but word is from the man I bought it from... It forces the truth out of you." The grunts finishes filling the syringe and flicks the bubbles. "Truth serum."

Dick has no doubt that the serum will work. He only wonders why he's threatening with it while he's gagged.

When the grunt walks around the table to Damian, he doesn't wonder anymore.

He can only tug on his restraints as the grunt grabs Damian's arm to aim the needle. Damian, for his effort, attempts to pull away, but the weakness of his head injury and his restraints do nothing to stop the needle from entering the inside of his elbow.

"You could have done this the easy way, Batman," Gibbs says. Dick watches as the syringe is pressed down, pushing the liquid into Damian's body. "I never like getting children involved."

Damian squeezes his jaw shut and turns his head away from the needle in his arm. It only takes a moment before the grunt pulls the empty syringe out before returning to standing besides his leader. A bead of blood appears where the needle left Damian's skin, but the boy doesn't move.

The air feels solid. Dick can hardly breathe as he tries to conceal his panic. He wants nothing more than to get out of these restraints and punch Gibbs and his men into next year, but he can't reach anything useful to do so. All he can do is watch Damian sit stock still as drugs spread through his veins.

A minute passes as Gibbs sits there in smug silence. Then, when a few more moments pass, he speaks.

"Robin," he says. Damian flinches, but doesn't look his way. His jaw still clenched. The goon with the camera points it right at Damian. "Why don't we start with something easy? What's your favorite animal?"

Damian curls his fingers behind his back and keeps his jaw grinding shut.

"Tight lipped huh?" Gibbs chuckles. He doesn't look surprised. Or worried. "Don't worry, I was assured that once it's fully in your system, it will hurt more to say nothing. What's your favorite animal, Robin?"

Damian says nothing, but he looks ridged. Tense.

"You look uncomfortable, Robin. Do you feel it in your head? I promise it will get better when you stop resisting. Let's try something different while we wait. Are you from Gotham?"

Damian's knuckles must be white under his gloves.

"How about your favorite color? Is it blue?"

Damian breathes a shaky breath through his nose, and Dick's heart breaks. He works harder to find a weakness in his restraints.

"My, your resilience is admirable. Were you trained on this?" Gibbs asks. Damian remains stubborn, but Gibbs still doesn't look worried. "Who were you trained by?"

"The best," Damian whimpers, cutting himself off with a growl and shutting his jaw. Gibbs smiles.

"What's your favorite animal?"

Damian shakes his head, a frustrated cry caught in his throat.

This continues, Gibbs finding victory in the one slip and pressing with everything he's got. Dick doesn't know how long Damian can last like this, and he doesn't want to find out. With every passing second, Dick knows it's only a matter of time before Damian's lips loosen. No amount of training can beat a good concussion and drugs designed to make your lips loose.

"What grade are you? Do you have any friends?"

After each question, Dick can see more and more discomfort in Damian's position. He's beginning to fidget and whimper and Dick's... Dick's had enough.

"What's your favorite color, Robin?"

"Green," Damian says with strangled gasp, sounding horrified with himself.

Gibbs smirks like a predator, knowing he's finally won.

"What's your real name?"

Yeah. Dick's had enough. With a hard tug, the ropes around his wrists finally snap against where he's been rubbing at them with his gauntlets. Gibbs and his men can barely react before Dick's upon them, cutting away the rest of the ropes with a batarang from his belt. He makes quick work of them in their shock, knocking them out and leaving them on the floor in unconscious piles.

He almost bends to put cable ties on their arms and legs, but he hears a tight whimper behind him. The moment after, he's rushing over to Damian to undo the ropes.

"Are you okay?" Dick asks, cutting through the bonds.

Damian shakes his head. Dick almost kicks himself.

"It's okay," he quickly says. "No one can hear. Let it out."

He's almost afraid Damian will force himself to remain silent, but to his relief and heartache, Damian opens his mouth and lets out a heaving sob. "It hurts- it hurts-"

Dick finally undoes the ropes, then he pulls his kid in close to his chest. "Get it out," he soothes, rubbing Damian's back.

"Dogs-" Damian starts, dissolving into quick rambling breaths. Every question he had been asked begins to be answered. Dick holds him close and lets him get it out with his tears. Silently, he sends a message to Gordon to pick up Gibbs and his men, then he messages Alfred to get the med-bay and lab ready. Soon enough, Damian is silent except for pain laced gasps, he holds tight to Dick's chest as Dick lifts him up and stuffs the vial with extra serum into his belt.

"I got you," he says as Damian continues to cry all the way to the batmobile. "I got you."

[redwinterroses]

for requests how about: impulse, encountering some or all of the day one crew and getting Very Uneasy because oh shit, the 3rdlife memories are coming back hard

Hey! Sorry this took me SO long to finish. It was a hard one to write because between you asking this (I think?) and now, Impulse had that whole encounter with Bdubs on the path and I was like "Well I don't want to just write that" and then Cleo showed up? And I haven't ever written her before (except for a few lines in another hero, another mindless crime) so I had to go watch a ton of vids and streams and--

okay. Excuses over. Please enjoy this little "Impulse has a bad time but Friends Are Good" drabble. <3

~~~

Sweet Dreams

The Crastle was bigger than he remembered. Had this hallway always been here? This doorway? This arch that led to another hall…which branched and spiraled and led up stairs and down Escherian ramps in a labyrinth of stone walls and a floor dotted with pressure plates?

Impulse found himself running, breath coming in short, panicked gasps as he dashed down the halls, throwing open doors and darting around corners, leaping over the pressure plates—someone was chasing him.

They were coming for him, glowing red eyes and white teeth—fangs—glinting in the shadows. And over all, the ever-louder beat:

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

It pounded in his ears, deafening, and he stumbled to cower against a wall, hunching with his arms over his head, trying in vain to drown it out. But no—no, it was even louder now, thumping so close it rattled his teeth, and he looked down to see blood spreading across his shirt and at the center where his heart should be: a golden clock embedded in his chest.

“They gave me a clock, Impulse.”

His head snapped up. Bdubs, eyes blank and red like two burning embers, stared down at him, no expression on his grey face.

“Ride or die?” Cleo’s voice came from behind him, and Impulse spun to see her glaring down the length of a crossbow, her eyes as scarlet and expressionless as Bdubs’. “How about… die.”

She fired the crossbow, the bolt exploding into flames that swarmed toward Impulse’s face—

He shot upright in bed, gasping for air. He swallowed hard, rubbing his chest as he gradually caught his breath. His heart pounded so loudly that for one horrible moment he thought it might really have been replaced with a bloody golden clock.

But no. Around him, the night was cool and dark, the silence of the Boatem village broken only by the faint rattling of a distant skeleton and the lowing of cows.

Just a dream. Just a nightmare.

Just another nightmare.

Impulse slumped back against his pillows, flopping one arm over his eyes and letting out a long, shuddering sigh in the darkness. It had been months since they’d moved on from the 3rd Life server, months of good times and laughter and the excitement of new projects and builds… and yet at night, when the voices of his friends faded away and Impulse was left alone with himself—he found himself back. Time and again, his sleeping mind returned to the Crastle, or to Dogwarts, or to the sandy dunes of the Red Desert. And inevitably, he found himself face to face with nightmare versions of his day-one crew: Bdubs and ZombieCleo, red-eyed and vengeful.

“I never betrayed them,” he muttered to the darkness. “Never.”

So why did he feel guilty?

Well. If he was honest with himself… it wasn’t really guilt. Or it was, but not because of anything he’d done in 3rdLife—no, the guilt he felt was because the primary emotion associated with Bdubs and Cleo in his dreams was fear.

These were his friends! Being afraid of them went against every instinct he had, every good memory and inside joke and shared experience. And that was a different world anyway—different rules, different lives. It didn’t change anything here on Hermitcraft.

And yet…

And yet when he saw that clock on Bdubs’ belt the other day, or when he’d come up out of the mines that first morning in Boatem and Cleo had been standing right there, Impulse hadn’t been able to suppress the rising wave of panic that swept over him. Panic over being caught in his web of lies, panic that he might hurt the only people he trusted, panic that they didn’t trust him—

Enough was enough. He needed to get past this; he couldn’t spend the rest of the season (the rest of his life?) having anxiety attacks whenever he encountered any of the other Crastle crew members. Talking with Bdubs on the trail had helped, but… he hadn’t seen Cleo since the first days of the server.

That needed to change.

Impulse threw off the covers and pushed himself out of bed, padding down the stairs to the main level of his house. Grabbing his communicator from where he’d left it atop the crafting bench, he tapped out two quick messages:

<impulseSV> you whisper to ZombieCleo: hey, can we meet up and chat? Spawn egg, around noon?

He set down the communicator and turned to go to bed, but to his surprise, it buzzed with an immediate reply.

<ZombieCleo> ZombieCleo whispered to you: everything alright?

<impulseSV> you whisper to ZombieCleo: yeah sure, I just |

Impulse stared at the blinking cursor for a moment, then backspaced and started again:

<impulseSV> you whisper to ZombieCleo: not really. but it’s nothing major. just want to chat a few things over with you.

<ZombieCleo> ZombieCleo whispered to you: Impulse it’s 3 in the morning. you wouldn’t be messaging if it wasn’t major. want to talk now?

He blinked. That… wasn’t the response he’d expected. He hesitated, finger hovering over the touch screen.

<impulseSV> you whisper to ZombieCleo: sure.

<ZombieCleo> ZombieCleo whispered to you: i'll come to you.

.

///

.

Impulse was waiting on the roof when Cleo arrived, swooping in with the dry rustle of elytra wings to land on the cobble-and-slabs rooftop.

He looked up at her with an automatic smile, but she didn’t even wait for a “hey” before plopping down beside him.

“Alright, Impulse,” she said, her brisk tone ordering, rather than inviting him to speak. “What’s going on?”

Pulling his knees into his chest, Impulse wrapped his arms around his legs, the cobblestone beneath him still radiating a bit of warmth from the day’s sun.

“I…” he let his voice trail off, not sure where to begin.

“Out with it.” Cleo held out her hand, palm up, as if waiting for him to drop something into it. “Spit it out. It’s not gonna get any better for stewing on it.”

This was a dumb idea. Impulse closed his eyes and, before he could talk himself out of it, let the words spill out in a rush:

“I keep having dreams. Nightmares. About being back… back there. At the Crastle, mainly. And, ah—” he chuckled nervously and opened his eyes, looking sideways at Cleo. “You and Bdubs are there. And you’re… mad. Yeah, you’re really mad. And you don’t trust me. And—" he took a deep breath. “I keep dreaming that you’re so mad you kill me.”

Cleo tilted her head, raising an eyebrow. “But we didn’t. Well,” she corrected herself. “I didn’t.”

“I know, I know—it’s stupid. It doesn’t make sense, and I know that, but…” he swallowed, and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I need to get it off my chest. Because even thought I know it’s not real, and I know this is an entirely different world, and I know that nothing from that server really changes anything, I can’t just… turn off what my brain does when I’m not paying attention to it. You guys are my friends and I’m getting real tired of feeling like I need to start running every time I see one of you. To be honest, sitting here right now even is making me antsy.”

Overhead, the stars continued on their paths in silence, and somewhere in the village a couple of sheep baa-ed at each other plaintively.

“Well. That’s… something. That’s certainly something, isn’t it.” Cleo was quiet for a moment, examining him. Impulse looked away, suddenly finding his fingernails deeply interesting.

“Impulse.”

She reached out and laid a hand on his arm, and he instinctively flinched away. Cleo raised both eyebrows at him this time, pulling her hand back—then deliberately replacing it, her fingers cool and firm through the thin fabric of his sleeve. “Impulse,” she repeated, her tone gentle but brooking no argument. “You… you know I’m not good at this stuff. But at the risk of getting in way over my pay-grade: we’re good. We’re your friends.” She gave him a shake. “We love you, you idiot. No amount of murdery games on another server gonna change that.”

Impulse gave a little laugh, pretending neither of them could hear the emotion that made his voice catch in his throat. “Wow, Cleo,” he said. “Love. Big word.”

“Bah.” She shoved him away, throwing her hands in the air. “I love everybody, you’re not special.” But there was a grin in her voice. “And anyway—why me? You’ve got a lotta nerve, Impulse, having nightmares about me killin’ you.”

“Hey, you were scary with that crossbow.”

“I was, wasn’t I.” Cleo sounded satisfied about that.

The knot in Impulse’s chest was slowly loosening, and he glanced over to see Cleo leaning back on her hands, staring up at the sky. The faintest tinge of pinkish-grey was starting to appear on the eastern horizon. The Boatem crew would be up and about soon—Grian in particular had a tendency to be up at an ungodly hour of the morning.

“Hey—” Impulse said, lowering his voice again. “Um. Thanks. For swinging by. Sorry for being weird about all this.”

“Impulse if you start apologizing for being weird you’re never going to stop.” She made a face at him. “Because you’re very weird.”

“Thaaaanks.”

Cleo gave him an easy punch on the shoulder. “You know you adore me,” she said. “And if it makes you feel any better, I can promise you this: I will kill you again at some point, I’m sure. And it’ll have nothing at all, whatsoever, to do with Third Life: it’ll be because you deserve it.” She paused. “Or because I just want to.”

Somehow, out of all the things she could have said, a casual threat of violence was the thing that did the trick. Impulse laughed—out loud, for real, a genuine laugh that shook loose the tension in his shoulders and chased away the phantom of Cleo standing over him with a crossbow.

“Thanks, Cleo.”

Cleo stood, and patted him on the head, ruffling up his hair. “There’s the obnoxiously-cheerful Impulse I know and loath,” she teased. “Can’t have you being all maudlin over here—I’m the gloomy one on this server.”

“I didn’t wake you, did I?” Impulse asked, smoothing down his hair and also standing.

She waved a hand dismissively. “Nah. You know me—I don’t do the sleeping thing much. Too much work to do: graves to dig, bodies to—” she grinned darkly “—find. ‘S a lot for an entrepreneuring zombie like myself.”

“Well, I guess I’ll let you get back to it.” Impulse tried to stifle a yawn. He wasn’t entirely successful.

“Go to bed, Impulse,” Cleo laughed, activating her elytra. “And try to only have normal nightmares about me for a while. Ya know—ones where I’m properly zombie-terrifying, not this Crastle nonsense.”

“I’ll do my best.” He watched her fly off, and yawned again, this time wide enough to pop his jaw.

Alright. Let’s try this one more time. Sleep.

He left the roof and reentered his house, which suddenly felt much more cozy and far less empty and cold than it had when he’d first awakened. Sliding back under his blankets, he tugged them up around his ears and closed his eyes with a sigh.

Something exploded outside, and his eyes popped back open.

Maniacal laughter echoed over the hills of Boatem, and Impulse deliberately rolled over, burying his head under the pillow.

Tomorrow’s insanity would come soon enough. For now: sleep.

((sweet dreams, Impulse.))

[impala1967dwinchester]

Dean Winchester: Hurting inside and out

*Credit to the gif owner*

Pairing: AU!History Teacher!Dean x Student!Reader

Pov: Dean (Reader to aged to be 16 and in high school)

Warnings: tw: Abuse tw: Only child tw: Mental health tw: Panic Attacks tw: Anxiety Attacks tw: Anxiety tw: Abuse of a child tw: Chacater Death mentioned tw: Drunk parent tw: Drinking, Protective! Dean, crying, consoling the reader, Mad! Dean, CPS Involved, Adoption of the reader, Talking a little about the past, Mature Content.

Summary: Mr. Winchester is starting to notice and worry about the changes he is seeing in his brightest, and most social student after all of a sudden she becomes quiet and wants to be left alone.

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N- This is for @band--psycho Comfort list.

Main Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Taglist- @akshi8278 @deanswaywardgirl @hit-meup69 @doctorlilo @wonderfulworldofwinchester

“Alright class, do you have any questions before we have independent work?” I asked the large class of students. I saw the girl in the front of the class raised her hand. She always has her hand up in the air. Always wanting to learn more about history.

“Yes, Y/n what’s your question?” I asked Y/n, she lowered her arm and said proudly. “What can we do if we have already completed our assignment?” I was used to that from her. She’d finish her assignments early and then have thirty minutes to sit there. She’d sit and read her book, or complete other assignments for classes.

“Well, if you’re already done. Then you, Miss, L/n can read your book, or help other students.” I said walking over to my desk to sit down. Y/n was a teacher's pet, but I tried to lean away from making her think that she was that way in class. I know what it’s like to be a teacher pet

I hadn’t even got to take a breath yet before Y/n was standing in front of my desk with her paper assignment in hand. “Here you go, Mr. Wincheste,r” Y/n said handing me her paper. “Thank you Miss L/n.” I said taking it and then she walked back over to her desk.

Later on that day I called the main office, telling the very nice desk lady that I needed Y/n L/n to come back to my classroom to talk with you about being a student cadet. The front desk lady said okay, and at the end of the day, Y/n was coming walking into my classroom for the second time.

Her backpack is steady on her shoulders. “Yes, Mr. Winchester.” She said sitting down in her normal seat in class. “How was the rest of your day, Miss L/n?” I asked. Giving her a confused look. “Mr. Winchester I thought I was here for detention or something like that?” She said. Starting to mess with her fingers.

"God no, I wanted to talk to you about becoming a teacher's cadet for next semester’s class. It would nice if you'd be able to help me grade papers, make up lesson plans y'know the normal things." I said fidgeting with the pen in between my fingers.

After this semester ends Y/n will not be coming back. So, the only way to get Y/n to come back would be to my class if she became my student cadet.

I waited silently in my office chair. Softly tapping, the nose of my shoe on the floor to the beat of some rock song. "Yeah, I will become a teacher's cadet. I'll become your teacher's cadet." She said a slow smile starting to grow on her face.

This…This teaching, and that wide was the one reason I keep coming to work. Knowing that my little ol' history class is making them so overjoyed. That's what makes me know that I'm doing the best I can at my job.

“All right, so next semester I’ll see you. Remember you’re here to help me. So don’t worry about things okay.” I said getting up from my desk chair and moving around. Y/n stayed in her same position. “You can go Y/n.” I stated.

It looked almost as if she had zoned out, but it’s whatever. “Yes, I do have to get going. Thank you, Mr. Winchester.” That’s all she said before she walked out of my classroom. Christmas break came fast and then it was over, I had ended up going to my parent’s house to see my sister and brother-in-law.

With Christmas and New Year over I was very much ready to see the new kids that I was going to have, and I was more than happy to have Y/n as my teacher cadet. The whole idea of her taking some stress off my shoulders was nice, it was wonderful actually.

For the first few weeks of the new semester Y/n was great she’d get all the regulatory things printed, some tested graded, she’d come to my class during her lunchtime and help me with more grading.

Yeah, I’m one of those teachers who make a shit ton of their students work into grades. The only thing I had to do was print the syllabus out. She’d walk in with her backpack slung over her shoulders, but a bright and wide smile on her face. I’d talk to the class and get the students in order before bringing my attention back to Y/n.

But that slowly started to change as our class progressed into the new year. Y/n wouldn't come in with a smile on anymore, she’d have her earbuds in and to be honest, the music was always blaring. “She’d slump into her seat at the front of the class.

Students would try to say hi or even just try to start a conversation. She’d ignore them, and pull out the tests she had scored the previous day. It started to concern me when she came to school with a large black hoodie, and in a rather bad mood. It was starting to look as if she was losing that bright star inside her.

That bright star that had made her shine in my class just last semester. That bright smile made all the students this year enjoy this class just a little bit more. I let it continue until she wasn’t showing up for class anymore, wasn’t returning graded tests, or coming to the lunch to help me anymore.

I called the front desk and asked the lady to have Y/n come down to my class that I needed her for a teacher and teacher cadet conversation. The front desk lady was able to call down to whatever class Y/n was in and have her jot that note down.

I waited for after school to end to start to worry when Y/n didn’t show up in my classroom. But the worry was forgotten when I heard the soft knocks on my door. “Y/n, can you please come to sit?” I asked her.

Her backpack sat low on her shoulder, her hair in a messy bun, smeared make-up, a dark sweater on, with sagging sweats on. She looked like a wreck, a tragic wreck. Or maybe she sort of looked like that popular game Jenga, if somebody pulled the wrong block who knows what will happen.

She sat down carefully to keep her bag still in her possession. “Y/n, is there anything you want to talk about?” I asked, prying a little too far into the very normal high situation. This just seemed different. How she had changed so quickly, or far off the deep end she had fallen.

I felt like I had to save her. I felt like I was her only saving grace. She hummed, but didn’t dare look up at me. “You can take all the time you need, Y/n. We’re in no rush.” I said trying my best to console her. Make her feel comfortable.

“I can tell you anything right? Mr.Winchester?” She asked, her voice shy and timid. Barely even looking up at me. “Of course,” I said trying not to sound over-excited that I had seen something and now she was communicating with me. All students should feel comfortable with their teachers, or at least one of their teachers to tell them how they're feeling at any given point in time.

She took what looked like a deep breath in and started; “So, lately life at home has been rough, things between my dad and I are kinda on bad terms. I know that as a teacher’s cadet I can’t let things like that bother me, but it’s hard to. And yeah I know I’m different, but Mr. Winchester I promise I’m still the same girl I was before. I promise you I’ll get better.” I went to go raise my hand.

She flinched and ducked under her crossed arms. A slight string of rage ran through me. I myself took a deep breath trying my hardest to find a consoling and nurturing voice. “Y/n please slow down, and take a breath if you don’t you’ll end up having a panic or anxiety attack,” I said to be careful to not scare her off.

“That's what it’s called?” She said. “How many other times have you felt like this?” I asked, now worried about whether or not this was being taken care of at home. She was trying her hardest to regain some sort of rhyme to her breath.

“In the past week?” She asked, her hands starting to shake. “Yeah sure let’s go with that. Also, can I touch your hand, so I can try and help you?” I asked. She hummed, “I’d say maybe like 5 in the past week.” She said.

“Y/n, Have you told anyone else? Maybe your father?” I asked, pushing further into Y/n personal business. There was a split second of a stutter, a pregnant pause laid between the two of us. “Y/n?” I asked again.

“No… I… I didn’t kno… I can’t tell my father.” She finally said. The pauses and stutters between her words gave me goosebumps. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if as a teenager I couldn’t talk to my parents, or even to just one parent.

Come to think of it, I wouldn’t want any of that. Not as a parent or as a child. “Y/n will you tell me why you can’t tell your father?” I asked pushing the subject even further. Wanting and needing to understand the situation the further we got into it.

“I… it’s really my fault you see.” I couldn’t help myself, my mouth opening against my own accord. “Nothing is ever your fault. Whoever told you it’s your fault is wronger than a bat outta hell.” I said my voice steadily rising.

She flinched and lowering her head. Shit, okay different approach. “It’s not your fault, Do you want to continue?” I asked She took a deep breath bringing her head back up and looking me in my eyes. “My mom died recently while coming to pick me up from a friend’s house during the winter break and now my father… he um he blames me for her death. So the animosity between my father and I in the house it’s hard to be that bright child I was.” She said taking another large deep breath of air.

Oh my god, that’s not something you blame on a child. Regardless, you never let a child feel like they have animosity with their parent. What has this world come to that this sort of action is socially acceptable.

“Can I ask why you feel that there’s animosity in your home, Y/n?” I asked making my voice softer and trying to be more welcoming. “Well, it’s a usual nightly thing. Where when I come back from school he’s drunk asleep hopefully. The longer I’m home though the worse it gets for me. He starts to yells and scream, putting me down in every which way.” She said.

Her breathing becoming rapid and raged, tears starting to roll down her already red cheeks. “Y/n, I’m going to ask a serious question tap me one for yes, and twice for no. “ I said she tapped me once so I continued. “Do you... Do you feel safe at home with your father?” I asked I was starting to feel like I was overstepping a boundary an imagery one.

Well if I was overstepping a boundary then Y/n would have said something right? Hopefully, I’m not. “No, I don’t feel safe at home. Please help me,” she said desperation flowing through her words as she spoke. “Do you want me to help?” I asked worrying that she might back out of her own idea.

We sat in silence for minutes besides hearing her little snuffles. “Yes, I want your help. I want to leave that hateful, dreadful, and emotionless house. Please, anywhere but there.” She said grabbing my hand tight, and tighter as she chocked out her words.

I slightly shook my head, I was able to release one hand before grabbing for my personal phone and dialing up the child’s protective services. If this is ending, then it’s ending now and in the right way.

I was able to get an agent and was able to explain the drastic situation. The young lady that happened to pick up the phone could hear Y/n in the background asking if she was okay. “No ma’am she isn’t going to be okay, not if she knows that she has to go back to the abusive home. Please is there anything that I can do about this situation to help?” I asked, my own voice failing me and my desperation coming out.

A week later, CPS was at her father’s house, and he was told that his daughter was being taken. Taken to another home as they did their investigation. He yelled and screamed, which in turn only caused their investigation to start off on a bad hand for her father, but a better hand for Y/n.

The past week she’d been staying with me. She had no other family and when the CPS agent asked if she did y/b only started to cry and, and ended up just hugging me through the entire conversation. The agent asked me if I would be comfortable, and if I had enough space for Y/n to stay for just a little bit.

I was more than comfortable with her coming to stay. I think through the whole situation and learning more about Y/n. I had started to grow a portion of my heart that was held just for her. With Y/n being a junior and that her next year being her last in high school it was honestly more of Y/n’s choice.

“Dean.. can I stay with you? Even after this all ends.” She asked, in the past week she’d been excused from school and was staying with me. We had to get past the normal uncomfortable routines, but besides that, she was absolutely amazing to have around. To think that some person could make a kind soul like her come to tears every night was horrible and made my blood boil.

We did have to get past the “Mr. Winchester” I told her to just call me Dean since that would make us both very comfortable. Being comfortable was all I really wanted her to be. Weeks turned into months that Y/n had now become living with me. The first night she called me dad we were sitting down getting ready to watch a movie.

“Do you want popcorn? Or something else?” I had asked her. As I got up to go to the kitchen. “Popcorn is fine Dad.” She said. I just stood there for a moment a wide smiled starting to spread against my face. “What?” She finally said after she noticed I hadn’t moved. “Did you just?” I said.

“Yeah I did, now popcorn and movie please dad.”She said. She was starting to become more and more like me, these recent months. “Sure thing kiddo. Pick the movie and we’ll eat popcorn.” I said.

This wasn’t something I thought I needed. But I’m glad I have it. I’m glad that Y/n’s in my life now. To be honest I think she’d just as happy as I am.

Completed on:04/23/2021