#i really enjoyed my stay at the hospital. i feel like the therapy helped

[a-heartshaped-object]

i’m finally back home

[strangersteddierthings]

Bad News First, Eddie

Part One 🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇FInal Part

Whew! I don’t think I’ve written this much in such a short amount of time ever in my life. The boys deserve a soft ending, I think. Enjoy!

-

It goes like this. While Eddie's been lost in his own mind, his body was living. Sort of.

Top secret government assisted living, kinda living. For a secret government hospital one would think the place would be fancier or something but it's just a regular looking hospital.

Eddie's in therapy, both for his body and mind.

He learns that the voice he heard when Eleven helped pull him from the depths of his mind was Mike Wheeler of all people, and he sounds different because he's nineteen and in college. Mike mocks him on graduating before Eddie. He regrets it when Eddie gets him into a headlock.

-

He gets to meet Eleven, outside of his mind. And he starts calling her El. Part of him can't stop thinking about Eleven as the entity he thought was going to lead him to the great beyond.

She is just a person. Sorta.

Dustin had told him there was a girl with superpowers and Eddie is glad she's real. Not that he thought Dustin would lie about this (actually, he might have thought Dustin was lying just to give him some weird version of a pep talk. Everything said before going through Watergate was suspect if he's honest).

-

When he's finally well enough to be able to leave, Doctor Owens tells him their plan.

They're gonna convince Wayne to fly to Tennessee. Eddie, El, and Mike Wheeler are gonna be flown there, too. There's a place for them to stay, to meet up with his uncle in private.

They'll stay there a month. Doctor Owens knows a doctor who can do Eddie's final evaluations before he can really go home.

That's the real kicker.

Hawkins fucking sucks. Small town, narrow views, non-conformity gets you called a Freak in the same way his Dad used to call him a fag. Like he said, fucking sucks.

But it's also the sanctuary he escaped to when he was eleven years old. It's the place where his uncle built a home for him.

So, back to Hawkins first. He can always go somewhere else later. Maybe a coastal city. See the ocean.

-

Eddie hasn't been afraid of a reaction from his uncle since that day in the hospital parking lot after he caught Eddie making out with another guy. He's got that same fear inside now, though, knowing that when El opens that door, he'll see the family he feels like he abandoned. It's not fair to himself to think that, his therapist would say, but he's allowed to have crazy thoughts right now. He's come back from being (not)dead and gets to see Wayne again for the first time. Knowing his feelings are justified doesn't make them fade, though, so he's not surprised his voice shakes when the door finally opens. “Hey Uncle Wayne.”

Wayne takes less than two seconds to reach Eddie, pulling him into a bone crushing hug. “I love you so much, you little bastard. Don’t you ever, ever do this to me again.”

It's all Eddie can do to remain upright and hug him back, clinging to his shirt like he's eleven years old again.

-

Wayne gives him an overview of what he's missed after the Upside Down came into their world (he heard that part from El and Mike, against the better wishes of Doctor Owens). Learns that Wayne and Steve live in Steve's childhood home because his parents just gifted it to him, apparently. That Wayne is only part time at the plant now due to an accident he had, and how that sparked his current living conditions.

Learns that Steve and Wayne became close because, unbelievably, Steve Harrington goes to his grave in the cemetery and cleans off graffiti on the regular.

Eddie feels a little hot under the collar because his brain reminds him of a fact he’d heard once; that the author of Frankenstein lost her virginity on her mother’s grave and a little voice in the back of his head whispers that it'd be hot for him to do the same thing with Steve on his own grave.

He has to scamper to the bathroom to scold himself in the mirror because he cannot be having these kinds of thoughts about Steve while talking to his uncle!

-

Wayne asks him, the night before their flight, “what’s something you want to do, once everything is settled and life starts to feel normal again?”

“I wanna go on a vacation. Like, a real, bona fide, family vacation.”

“Where you wanna go?”

“Think I’d like to see the ocean.”

Wayne smiles softly. “Alright. When you feel ready for it, we’ll go.”

-

“Just give him a chance, Eddie,” Wayne says randomly, as they wait to board their flight to Indianapolis.

“Give him a chance? As if I’d waste it,” Eddie feels breathless at just the thought. It's certainly not helping that stupid crush he's been harboring for years, knowing how Steve’s been treating his uncle. It was one thing to watch Steve defend Jeff that one time in high school; it's an entirely different ball game knowing he's watched over his uncle with care and devotion for years. “He took care of you when I couldn’t. He cares. I don’t think there’s a chance I wouldn’t give him.”

“How long have you had a thing for Steve?”

Eddie's brain screeches to a halt because he was didn't think anything he'd just said would give him away. He can't even think of a reply good enough to throw his uncle off his trail. “That’s not- why would you think- when have I ever!?”

“You think I wouldn’t know this about you?” Wayne chuckles.

No. No, Eddie thinks, of course you could take one look at me and know. His uncle had been able to know everything about him so effortlessly. But Eddie doesn't have to answer, so he won't. “So, we’ll be living with Steve Harrington? Will he… be okay with me being there?”

“Yeah. Steve and I had each other when we needed it. Now I need you, so Steve won’t mind at all," Wayne sounds so sure, so convinced, that Eddie is too.

Eddie smiles, pulling a strand of his hair to hide his face behind as he imagines getting to eat at the same dinner table as Steve fucking Harrington. He doesn't even mind that Wayne gives him a look at says 'you are being so obvious right now' because he is. He knows he is. He's allowed to be. Wayne's not going to mock him for his crush.

-

On the drive from Indianapolis to Hawkins, Wayne tells him the lie he told Steve. Apparently, Steve thinks Eddie's dad is coming to stay for a while. The mere thought of that sets Eddie on edge, even though he knows Wyatt Munson's still in prison. Will be for a long time, with the list of shit they got him for.

They roll into Hawkins shortly after, and while Eddie may have not been in Hawkins the last five years, and he's willing to admit that things might have changed things up since they did have to rebuild a lot of the town, he's certain that Steve's house is on the other side of it. “This isn’t the way to the Harrington house."

“Steve won’t be there. He comes here when he’s overwhelmed," Wayne says. It's still pretty jarring to hear Wayne talk about Steve like this. Like he knows him. Which, he does, obviously, because they've gotten to know each other.

Still mind blowing to think about.

“The cemetery?” is what comes out of his mouth, though.

Wayne knows what's he's really meaning to ask, though, because he shrugs and says, “we both come talk to you. Steve always starts with the bad news, you know. I think you should start with good news. Just this once." The car is slowing down, and Wayne is pointing out the front windshield, to a figure crouched down near a lone headstone. "Ah. See, there he is.”

Steve. He's too far away for Eddie to be sure sure but if anyone is still wearing bright polo shirts tucked into light wash jeans this far after leaving high school, it'd be Steve Harrington. Eddie's not even sure the car is fully stopped when he all but falls out of it.

He doesn't run to greet Steve, because that's a bit dramatic, but he's not too proud to admit he might be power walking. He slows down when he gets closer, coming to a full stop just close enough to hear Steve talking to his grave. Talking to him.

"Bad news, Eds. I'm too much of a coward to meet your old man. Afraid of what he'll sound like. Because I want him to sound like you so fucking bad it hurts. So instead of being home, I'm hiding here."

"Well, I've some bad news for you, too, Stevie. I got my voice from my mom," Eddie says, and almost instantly cringes because Wayne literally just told him to start with good news and he didn't. Eddie doesn't have much time to soak in his embarrassment, though, because Steve whips around so fast that Eddie's dizzy from the movement.

Steve looks older but it's in the way people who have seen more than their fair share of Hell look older, and less about actual aging. His eyes are wide and stunned. Eddie watches as his jaw moves but no words come out. He looks like he's seen a ghost which... ok, that's fair.

"Umm," Eddie says, a little worried he's broken him when Steve doesn't even seem to be blinking as he stares at Eddie. "Good news, Steve. I, uh, I lived. Kinda. El kinda pulled me back to the surface of my mind, or whatever, and Owens did a good job at patchin' up the goods here," he gestures to his whole body with a sweeping motion of his hand and wishes that a gate to the Upside Down would open beneath his feet and suck him back to Hell because could he be any more embarrassing?

"A-are you," he watches as Steve swallows and takes a deep breath. He's still not sure Steve has blinked yet. "real?"

"Yeah," Eddie nods, taking a few steps closer, "yeah, I'm real. I'm here and alive and real."

Steve launches himself forward then, meeting him halfway. It's so goddamn surreal be witness to how tenderly Steve actually reaches out to him, though, such a contrast to the flurry of movement he'd been just a second ago. Eddie stays still as Steve lifts shaking hands to cup his face with, pushing against his cheeks as if to test whether or not Eddie is solid. Those hands slide down, along his neck, across his shoulders, down his arms where Steve seems to need to pause and collect himself again, hands wrapped loosely around his arms just below his elbows while Steve shuts his eyes and a low, broken sound pulls itself from his throat before his eyes open again, wet with tears, and he releases Eddie just long enough to throw his arms around his neck and pull him into a hug almost as crushing as the one he shared with his uncle.

It's overwhelming in this moment. To see how much he means to Steve and not fully understand how he came to mean anything to him at all.

Doesn't stop him from wrapping his own arms around Steve's waist, though.

-

It goes like this.

He gets his own room at Harrington's house. Wayne has his own room, too. How strange it is, to not have his uncle sleeping the day away on the couch because the trailer had one room and he'd given it to Eddie.

They adjust to living together so seamlessly. Like they were always meant to be family.

They have dinner together. Real homecooked meals. Which isn't a novelty for Wayne and Steve anymore, but Eddie's memory ends five years ago, when his dinners consisted of microwavable meals or left over snacks from lunch. Wayne cooks on the days when Steve works, and Eddie helps. Gets to be taught how to cook.

For a while, Eddie is afraid to leave the house. Even knowing that Jason Carver bit the dust the same day he was supposed to also doesn’t help. He only goes places with Wayne and Steve, and even then, the double takes people send his way are enough to make him want to shrink into himself.

However, no one says anything to him. He's vaguely aware that everyone here lived through some sort of miniature apocalypse and maybe that's the kind of thing that has to happen to make a small town in Indiana change.

-

He and Steve dance around each other. He can feel it. There is something here, between them, that neither fully acknowledges.

He tries to talk to Wayne about it, but he won't give him much to go on.

"I won't be the one to say anything about what Steve thinks of you. That's gotta come from Steve. I will say this. He's waiting for you to bring it up first."

"Why does it have to be me?"

"He's had five years to gather his thoughts and emotions," Wayne levels him with a Look, "you gotta have the time to figure yourself out, too."

Well, fuck.

-

Steve waits until it's almost summer break for the kids (they’re not really kids anymore, though, but Eddie’s adjusting to that still) to ask if he's ready to face them. "It'll be a lot to handle," Steve says as he sits next to Eddie on their couch (their couch. He can't believe that's a truth in his life right now). "Eleven and Mike haven't told anyone yet, but they want to. It wasn't just Wayne and I that grieved for you."

"I know," Eddie says, "I know. I'm good. I'm alive and here and I want them to know about it."

Steve nods slowly, not fully focused on Eddie. Eddie's come to know that means he's thinking, so Eddie waits for him to speak. "Would you prefer to meet with everyone... one at a time?"

"What's the other option?"

"Well, I always host a barbeque when they all come back. Could tell everyone all at once. Like ripping off a Band-Aid."

Eddie crooks a smile because he's a bit mischievous and his mind instantly plays a scene where he walks into a backyard full of all the people he's come to care for, and who care for him, and he's trying to best to be casual about it in this fantasy. "Yeah. Let's do the barbeque thing."

-

"Bad news, Stevie," Eddie whispers as he leans against the wall next his closed door, trying not to hyperventilate. "I don't know if I can do this."

Steve reaches out and takes one of Eddie's hands in his own, linking their fingers like it's a casual thing they do all the time when it's most certainly not. "Good news, Eds. You don't have to. We didn't tell anyone you're here. You can stay in your room until they're gone, and we'll figure out another way to tell them."

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and thinks he might be crushing all the bones in Steve's hand with how hard he's clenching it. "What if they're mad at me?"

Steve understands the real question Eddie is asking, the one he doesn't know how to phrase. "You were dead, Eds, and no one out in that yard is going to be 'mad' about any time they'd spent grieving over you. There's gonna be a lot of tears, man, like a lot. Maybe even some shouting. None of it done in anger."

"How're you sure?"

Steve lifts his unoccupied hand and cups Eddie's check. Steve’s eyes are watery and his voice is a bit choked, but he says, "because I was there. I saw them through their grief. Everyone in the backyard either loves you already, or they will."

It's so fucking intimate, how close they are, how tenderly Steve touches him. Wayne had said he'd need to take the first step, so he blames Wayne when he blurts out, "what about everyone in this room? They love me, too?"

Steve's eyes go wide in surprise before his whole face lights up in a way Eddie has never seen before. It makes Steve look younger, less haunted, and then Steve whispers, "of course I love you," like there is no other answer Steve could have given.

Eddie grabs a handful as Steve's polo shirt and pulls him close enough to kiss.

Butterflies and fireworks erupt within Eddie. Kissing Steve is so much better than he's ever let himself imagine. They're still holding hands and Steve's still got his other hand resting so softly on his cheek and Steve's lips are kinda chapped but fuck does the briefest touch of their lips together make Eddie lose all his breath.

It's not deep, or all consuming. There's not even an exchange of tongue. Steve kisses him softly, gently, pulls back to pepper little kisses all over Eddie's face that has him blushing more than he's ever done in his life, and Steve places one, two, three more kisses to his lips before pulling back to look at Eddie like he's the answer to every prayer Steve's ever had. It makes his knees weak.

"I think," Eddie pauses to lick his lips, "I think I'll be brave enough to do it if you're holding my hand."

"Just try and pry yourself away, Munson," Steve teases. "Whenever you're ready."

-

Steve was right about the tears and shouting. He was also right that no one is mad at him.

Dustin hugs him so hard they fall over in the yard and Eddie finds himself part of a dog pile that starts with crying that turns into laughter that leads back into crying, everyone grabbing at him and him grabbing back.

It's emotional. It's overwhelming. It's the best fucking day of Eddie Munson's life.

-

Doctor Owens reaches out towards the end of summer to let him know they're issuing him a new social security card. Eddie asks if he's allowed to change him name. Owens says yes.

-

"Bad news first, Eddie," Eddie says to himself as he kneels in front of his own headstone. "You've become so boring and normal, no one vandalizes your grave anymore. Good news, though. Means I can do it myself."

Before him is his headstone, a thick red line painted through his death date. Another more carefully applied line is struck through his middle name. Above it he's painted in block letters 'Wayne'.

"Eddie, come on! This road trip's gonna start without you," Steve calls from where he's leaning against the side of Wayne's pickup.

Eddie is satisfied with his work, so he abandons the paint and returns to the pickup. He slides across the bench seat, one leg pretzeled under himself to be out of the way of the gear shift. Steve follows in after, shutting the door and reaching for Eddie's hand automatically.

He's got Wayne to his left, Steve to his right, and the first family vacation he's ever taken in his life ahead of him.

Good news, Eddie Wayne Munson. Maybe everyday going forward can be the best fucking day of your life.

[asillydreamer-on-a-crazyworld]

about Methas and JJ today...

First, let's appreciate how cunning Methas is. After JJ leaves his hospital bedroom, I can bet he spent the whole night trying to come out with a plan to make JJ pay for speaking to him like that in front of others. Jj made him angry( actually it's like JJ's super power: to make Methas angry and defy him each step they take towards eo), so now he wants him to pay. Methas then come up with the perfect plan: make JJ the one to be by his side and take care of him. He hates to lose for someone like him and this time the one thing he lost was a bit of his pride to be scolded by jj in front of ppl he barely knows.

2.Methas is obviously someone who, after losing his family, had to build a strong, high wall around himself to protect him and the empire his family built .- the only thing he has left of his parents- He must have learned that ppl only come closer to him when they want something while he had to deal with his family's business. I mean, think of a younger, vulnerable methas, whose parents and sister were dead ... I can bet that some mean ppl from the business world tried to bring down Methas business more than once. On the other hand, we know that some ppl come closer to others just for what methas accused jj of wanting: money and connections. The fact that JJ said, with very clear words, that not everyone does that, affected Methas deeply... I mean, look at the surprised vulnerable look Methas had in his eyes! The man probably thought " no way someone like this exists. This is not what ppl around me acts ". And I mean, the way JJ repeatedly says that he isn't interested in Methas money...It must really confuse Methas. He also says that:" I Don't understand you". Oh, my sweet, feisty meow Methas, just like JJ said, you will, coz JJ will show you ;)

3.the entire physiotherapy session...JESUS TAKE THE WHEEL!! THE FUCKING SEXUAL TENSION! Methas is clearly touch starved but is too proud to ask for others help and company( Jj tells him that too when he takes him out and says that he probably wouldn't ask others to take him for a walk too). We can see how Methas is enjoying the closeness between the two, but it's also unsure of how to react to the proximity between them . There is a moment he moves his hand and he looks like he wants to touch JJ SO MUCH, but he doesn't know how, or if he SHOULD. God, these two are gonna KILL US!

4. The last scene of them out of the house (Mansion? Anyway...what a damn big house Methas live in o.o)., when Methas tells JJ that his heart beat faster, sometimes out of anger, and other times with something else...I believe he was teasing JJ there, but also saying the truth... JJ made him feel something else, and he liked, so now he doesn't wanna this therapy to end. And we know that later he will buy the clinic just to stay closer to JJ... I believe they will spend more time together, talk and know eo more and it will make Methas crave the warmth only JJ can give him. Methas is a business man , a successful one and he won't let a gem like JJ go without a good fight. But I wonder if the fact that Methas is JJ's patient will make him doubt the nature of Methas' future feelings for him. Is methas confusing things or he rly will want JJ for the person he is? JJ is trying to keep the line between them clear and strong( although we could see in the way he looked at Methas during therapy that he also feels soemthing for the billionaire) but we know Methas won't have that.

I am curious to know who will cross this line. Jj is trying to keep things professional, Methas clearly will try to break JJ's resolve by provoking him a lot, and I wonder who will lose control first, bc the tension is high and it will only get higher and hotter between them.

[emeritus-fuckers]

Hi! Long time enjoyer of the beautiful works you and your friends write! I recently had to have my leg amputated and once I'm fully healed I'll be getting a prosthetic. I was wondering how the Papas and Sister would react to a s/o who had to have their leg amputated and gets a prosthetic once they've healed? Thank you in advance and keep up the great work! 😊🖤

Papas, Sister Imperator and Delta with an amputee darling

Primo (he/him)

Incredibly supportive the entire time.

He even offers to push your wheelchair while you heal after the amputation.

He learns from the doctors and nurses on how to take care of you properly.

Offers you one of his favorite canes for when you have to re-learn how to walk with your new prosthetic.

He is very patient with you. He knows it's stressful for you.

He'll be with you on your every physical therapy. He encourages you to keep trying, as hard as it might be.

He's very proud of you. And you will know it.

Secondo (he/him)

If you think this man doesn't speedrun courses on how to best assist and take care of you, you don't know this man at all.

He's your nurse now. He expertly helps you with physical therapy.

Gets you regular check-ups and personally drives you there.

If you get too tired, he'll carry you. Yes, you have a wheelchair, but aren't his arms just better?

He gets you the most expensive prosthetic he can find.

A few of them, even.

He paints them however you wish. He's a good painter.

Terzo (he/they)

He hasn’t left your side since the beginning of this journey.

They’re well aware that this is a change that will have major effects on you and possibly your mental health. He’s already got the best physical and mental therapists on standby to help with your every need.

They stay by your side until you’re taken for surgery and is the first thing you see upon waking up. Especially since he crawled in the bed with you.

He brought Alpha and Omega with him to help get you back out of the hospital. The ghouls are gentle and they justified Alpha by pointing out heat helps with being sore.

They get you transportation wherever you need to go, but insists on being the only one to push your wheelchair when you aren’t up for walking.

Terzo also took it upon himself to help you fully customize your chair, prosthetic, crutches and whatever other mobility aids you require.

They also ensure you get plenty of time with him, relaxing in his room and being showered in affection and love.

Copia (he/him)

While you are healing he finds the most adorable rat printed bandages to cover the normal medical ones.

He'll look after you, everything you need. He doesn't want you to do anything that would be uncomfortable for you. He doesn't mind he is really happy to be able to do this for you as you bring so much joy to his life.

You end up cuddled on the sofa with Copia playing video games with the rats being as comforting as possible too.

He is your biggest supporter by far, he is always there when you need him.

While you are learning to walk with the prosthetic he'll happily accompany you.

He looked at you sheepishly as a rat's head poked out of your pocket and a few jump up on his shoulder. He explained that they wanted to come too and help, but only if you don't mind.

He also offers to drive you anywhere you want while you are healing. He offers to take you to the beach house. It's perfect for resting and enjoying a good view and there are some really nice walks nearby for when you are feeling up to it. He'll happily push you in a wheelchair around them until that time.

Old Papa Nihil (he/him)

He's very tender and supportive. We all know what old Nihil can be like, but he really steps up to the mark for you.

Even though he is getting older he is still very strong, so he insists on carrying you out to the garden on a nice day. You two sit and enjoy the sun.

He does have some limitations with his age but he makes sure to find the best doctors and nurses he can to look after you.

He goes with you to physical therapy and if you want he'll join in to keep you company.

You often get the giggles at the old man noises that come out of him on some of the exercises.

He keeps you company while you heal and brings you whatever you need.

He is very good at helping you pass the time, he's had practice when his own health has been bad.

Young Papa Nihil (he/him)

He is 100% there for you, even if he is a little unsure how to be.

He goes and finds advice on how to help as he doesn't want to get it wrong.

He is very good at taking your mind off things, he thinks of fun things to do at all stages of your healing. Things that are within your capabilities at that time.

He is so proud of you and how you push through it. He admits, if it was him, he wouldn't handle it so well.

He'll help you learn to walk on the prosthetic. He finds the perfect place for you to get your strenght back once you are up to walking short distances.

The park at dusk, he knows a way to sneak in even though it shuts then. He used to go there to get high but he much prefers walking with you.

No one else is around, and the park is beautiful in the soft orange and pink light. He knows a spot that has a good view of the sunset and you take a break sitting on the bench and watch, his arms wrapped around you keeping out the early evening chill.

Young Sister Imperator (she/her)

She makes sure you have the best available professionals take care of you.

She might not always be available, but she has at least one Ghoulette taking care of you at all times.

The Ghoulette is tasked with documenting everything about your amputation, physical therapy and all the doctor visits.

While she may not have much free time, Imperator does a lot of research on the subject and speaks to all the doctors whenever she can.

She manages to get some time off around the time of the procedure so she can support you.

She keeps you on a very strict schedule when it comes to physical therapy, but you know she means well.

She does a lot of research before you two pick a perfect prosthetic.

Old Sister Imperator (she/her)

She does so much research she could practically be a doctor, a nurse and a physical therapist at this point.

Her Ghoulettes are all expected to go through training to help you as well.

She knows so much she could probably lecture the doctors. If it wasn't for the fact that she researched them, as well. She knows they are the absolute best at what they do.

She makes sure to get time off around the big day, as well as the first two weeks of your physical therapy.

She makes a small joke about how you'll be running around with your prosthetic just as she runs in her favorite red heels.

She will stay by your side whenever it gets rough, letting you talk about everything you feel.

She'll provide you as much comfort as she can.

Delta (they/it)

Delta being the Ministry’s most unfortunate element transition has lots of knowledge on going through amputation.

They answer any and all questions you have before the procedure, promising to help however it can in your recovery.

When you wake up, they’re waiting by your bed with a huge bouquet of flowers and your favourite food. According to them all amazing patients deserve a treat.

When you begin therapy to work up to getting the prosthetic, they do the exercises with you. Kinda taking over the job of the physical therapist since it knows these exercises.

Actually…they kinda replace a lot of professional help. Since they’re a professional through lived experience.

They help you learn to do the bandages properly. When you get your prosthetic they do their best to assist with putting it on, taking it off, cleaning all the different parts, balance and more.

Kinda worked in your favour having a double amputee by your side. It can really help with both your physical and mental health, having someone like them so close to you right now.

~

Papas I, II and Sister Imperator written by Nosferatu.

Papa III and Delta written by Death.

Papas IV and Nihil written by Nyx.

[the-cleaning-guy]

Howdy!

My name is Bruce and I'm Princeton-Plainsboro's janitor, nothing too special. I keep the hospital clean and occasionally bring in my dogs to help the patients.

I've been told to include some things about myself so here ya go:

Age- 25 (April 21, 1979)

Pronouns- He/Him

Sexuality- Fag

I have 4 dogs, a truck almost as old as me, I can play the guitar, harmonica, and drum on buckets. Feel free to ask me something or talk to me I'm all ears buddy!

Some information about him!

Bruce grew up in a trailer park with his parents and older brother. His dad worked a blue collar job and his mom was a bartender. His brother is 6 years older than him, he wasnt home often so theyre not very close. He still goes to see his parents, he'll stop by and have dinner with them every so often. All of them were really distant growing up (still are) but they care about eachother in their own ways.

He started using drugs around 14 and it got really bad from 16-20. He originally got the job at PPTH at 19 but a year later got sent to rehab because he almost OD-ed. Cuddy gave him the job back because he was a good worker and his recovery was going really well. Hes relapsed a few times and had to stay inpatient at PPTH.

He has a slight southern accent that comes out with certain words but its not super obvious. His right eye is a very light grey/blue, his left eye is an olive green. He has tattoos all over his body (including a tramp stamp he got at 16). He has a labret, a septum, a tongue, 10 ear (3 on top, 2 on bottom), and a belly button piercing. Him and his brother both have moles under their eye but on opposite sides.

He owns an old red pickup truck from the 80s. Lives in a small rundown apartment 40 minutes from PPTH. He has four dogs (two pit bulls, a german shepherd, and an australian shepard). One pit bull (named Bones but he calls him Baby) is a trained therapy dog who helps him with his addiction and anxiety. He plans on getting his german shepherd (Jack <- named after jack twist from brokeback mountain) trained to be a therapy dog too. He learned to play guitar, harmonica, and bucket drums as a young teen practically on the streets.

He gets along with most people really well since hes easy to talk to. He has resting bitchface but when he talks to people hes very polite and friendly which makes up for it. Kids tend to like him so he carries candy in his pockets for them. He has sort of a random country uncle feel to him? Hes very charismatic but you also wouldnt want to get in a fight with him. He looks like someone you'd see at a bar drinking beers and watching the game on tv. Though hes not really a fan of sports other than hockey or fighting. He seems older than he really is both physically and mentally. He'll bring in Bones for the patients to hang out with when hes allowed to. He enjoys talking about music, movies/shows, history, dogs, etc. People tend to talk to him about their drama so he knows everyones business, hes a good listener!

He likes men but he doesnt really talk about it often. He grew up getting called 'fag' by most of the people around him (even if they got along) so he usually just calls himself that. He isnt currently into anybody but he gets around. Hes a cis guy but doesnt care about gender much so its never really on his mind, he probably doesnt know what being trans is but he doesnt give a shit either way.

Hello!! im ghost (@ghostboyhood) the person behind this blog. Sorry the information above is so all over the place i have a rough time wording things 😭 I'll usually talk ooc in specified tags unless youre specifically asking ME something and not Bruce -> [#ooc- blahblahblah]

This is my House Md oc Bruce N. Valentine!! Feel free to ask him things and talk to him, he'd love to listen. Hes up for answering almost anything just be smart about what you ask <3

Go check out the other people hes surrounded by at @ppth-staff !!

[jawritter]

Carry On

Chapter 4

Summary: It was just a simple hunt, found on a pie festival. It was supposed to be easy. Something they’d all done one hundred and one times a million. No one could have told Y/N, Dean, and Sam that nothing from that point on would ever be the same again.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader x Sam Winchester

Word Count: 2964

Warnings: Dean coming to terms with his new reality, so let’s just say it’s some tension in the room. Graphic injury. Me botching medical jargon, A lot of pain. Hospital setting. Angst.

Due to the graphic nature of this fic, and the fact that it will eventually contain Smut. This fic is an 18 + only fic! If you’re under 18 DO NOT read this fic!

A/N: This fic is beta’d by @kazsrm67 Thanks so much love! Please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! I hope you all enjoy this ride with me!

My Mastlist        Series Masterlist

The doctor had spent over an hour with Dean explaining to him the nature of his injuries, and the long road ahead of him. The whole time he was in with them Dean kept his hand tightly laced in Y/N’s. She didn’t know for sure if it was because he knew he needed to keep up the ‘husband and wife act’, or if there was something more to it, but his face showed no emotions. He laid there in a stoned silence, swallowing thickly on occasion; never saying a word.

As far as a case of a hard pill to swallow goes, someone telling a person they should be dead, they were lucky to be alive; but they were going to possibly have chronic nerve pain for the rest of their life; that they physically never would get back to running at 100%, that walking at first was even going to be a challenge even though the paralysis should only be temporary, was a hard fucking pill to swallow for normal people. Now, tell that to someone who has only known hunting their whole life, and you have an almost impossible pill to swallow. Hell, for Dean it was like trying to gulp down the entire bottle. 

Dean had come through a lot of things in life normal people should have never come through. Dean had been to literal hell and back, died countless times, fought God himself. But this, this was going to be what ultimately ended his career. There was no ‘miracle’ or ‘divine intervention’ coming this time. 

Since Chuck had been put in his place, and Jack had taken over, things had gotten relatively normal. They hunt basic monsters like they had in the past. Demons found themselves under a greater measure of control, so they kept their place. The ‘big bads’ were fewer and farther in between, and Dean had played with the idea of becoming a firefighter or a police officer, and getting out of hunting all together, but never got to do it, and now he wouldn’t ever get to do it if walking again was going to be a challenge. 

The doctor assured Dean over and over again that the paralysis was most likely only caused by the swelling around the spinal cord and the trauma he endured there. That as the swelling subsided, he’d slowly regain feeling again. But that didn’t really make Dean feel better in that moment, and she knew that by the blank, sick look on his face as they talked about physical therapy to help with mobility again. The bottom line was that they really didn’t know the extent of the damage to his spinal cord, if there was any, or to his spine itself until the swelling was gone. There was still a possibility that he’d need more surgerys, or even might have to spend some time in a wheelchair before he became fully mobile again. Dean didn’t say anything, but Y/N could tell that was something that he wasn’t happy to hear by the way his grip only tightened on her hand the more the man talked. 

Finally, when the doctor was done, and Dean’s pain was manageable, at least to a point that he wasn’t practically withering, the way he’d been when he’d first woken up, and he was able to eat something; they took the trio downstairs to what would be Dean’s home away from home for the foreseeable future. He’d have to stay in that room until he could go home and finish his recovery; which the doctor said totally depended on how fast his body healed itself. It could be two weeks; it could be upwards of a month. Really, there were still so many questions, and very few answers. 

There had been countless people around the three of them from the point Dean’s eyes had opened, until they were rolled down to his room. They were surrounded by doctors, and nurses of different sorts, but when Dean was settled into his room, and the door was closed by the final charge nurse for the evening; Sam, Dean, and Y/N where left alone, that’s when the exhaustion started to settle in on Y/N as well as Dean. She looked up at the clock to find that it was no longer early in the morning, but rather it was closer to around five in the afternoon. 

“Where are you going?” Dean asked worriedly as she moved away from where she’d been standing next to the bed. After all, no one was here now, there was no need to keep up the act anymore was there? “You’re not leaving are you?”

“No Dean,” she assured him, coming to sit back down in the chair next to his bed; he immediately reached for her hand again as soon as she was close enough. She’d be a liar if she said it didn’t make her heart flutter in her chest just a little that Dean wanted her to be close to him, when she thought that when he woke up it would be just the opposite. “I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me to leave. I’ve been here the whole time; I don’t plan on leaving now, I’m in this with you for the long haul, if you want me to be.”

Dean closed his eyes and took as deep of a breath as his battered body would allow him, a large tear rolled down his freckle dusted cheek, and into the crease of his nose before it disappeared into the corner of his mouth. Y/N did the only thing she knew to do to comfort him, and that was run her fingers through his short, disheveled hair. 

“Everything’s gonna be okay Dean,” she tried, but she watched as he quickly shoved down whatever weakness he was feeling again as if it never was, and opened his eyes to look around the room, looking for a distraction because clearly, he just wasn’t ready to talk yet. 

“Where’s Sam?” he asked finally, not finding his brother in the room. 

“He’s gone downstairs to grab our bags,” Y/N told him and he nodded slightly as he looked around at the too white walls, the small TV that set perched on the wall just opposite of the hospital bed, and the little couch that lay against the window in the room that would be Y/N’s bed from now on until he was able to go home. 

“Where have you all been staying?” He questioned, his brow furrowing slightly. 

“Well, I’ve been here, I haven’t left since the night you got here, but Sam has been staying at the hotel with Eileen and Miracle. He went to retrieve them the night you got hurt. They’re looking for an apartment for you to stay at until you’re able to travel back to the bunker.”

Dean’s mouth formed a thin line and his nostrils flared, but he said nothing of what he was thinking, instead choosing to keep it to himself. Y/N had a feeling he hadn’t thought that far ahead, and knowing he was stuck in this town and state a little longer wasn’t something he was thrilled about all together. 

“What about my Baby?” Dean questioned, and Y/N pulled the keys out and placed them on his chest. Dean swallowed thickly and grabbed them tightly in his free hand. 

“She’s been here with me while I stayed with you, and Sam said he’s going to leave her here while he uses the car he drove back from the bunker,” she informed him. 

“Please don’t leave me here alone,” Dean said again, grief starting to take hold of his features no matter how much he tried to push it down again, and it broke her heart. “Sam, he’s got… He’s going to need to leave to check on, or go on hunts now since I can’t, and he’s— just please don’t leave me.”

“Hey, easy,” she said, quickly getting up from her seat and sitting gingerly on the side of the bed next to him as his chest started to rise and fall rapidly, and his heart rate shot up on the monitors. The weight of everything started to fall hard on him, and honestly, she was surprised he did as well as he’d done for this long. 

“I’m here Dean, I’m here, and I’m going to be here, through the surgeries if they’re needed, the physical therapy, all of it. You’d literally have to run me off, and I don’t scare easily. I’ve got you Dean, and Sam does too. He’s out there doing the things I can’t while I’m here with you, and between us we will get you back on your feet again, but I ain’t leaving, handsome. You’re stuck with me, okay?”

Dean huffed out as deep of a breath as he could manage in order to real in the emotions he’d let slip as Sam opened the door, still shaking the rain from his long hair and bags hanging off of his shoulders as he made his way over to the couch and laid them down on the floor by the corner of the couch. 

“Okay,” Sam said with an exasperated huff as he turned to face Dean and Y/N. “I think I got everything. There are more of Dean’s clothes in the car, but I didn’t really see the point of bringing them all up right now, because he can’t exactly get dressed until his back has healed and they’ve taken the catheter out. I did get your clothing Y/N, as well as everyone’s phone chargers, laptop, and chargers for those. If there is anything else you guys need, I can go and buy it.”

Sam looked so tired and so disheveled as he flopped heavily down onto the little couch, his eyes locked on Dean’s as they stared at one another in a heavy silence. 

“I swear Dean, I didn’t—”

“Okay,” Dean cut in, before turning to look at the wall in front of him. “I believe you Sam, just… let it go, okay?”

“But–”

“Look, shit happened, okay? If you didn’t make a deal, then it just wasn’t my time to go, even if I would have been better off dead.”

“Dean, that’s not true!” Y/N cut in quickly, and Dean just shook his head, his face set in stone. His emotions were all over the place, and Y/N expected that, who wouldn't be? But she did NOT want him thinking he’d been better off dead, because she just couldn’t imagine living one day in a world where he didn’t exist. 

“Dean you’re not going to stay like this forever man, you will get better, it’s just… It’s just going to be a process, but you got this,” Sam tried, but Dean gave no response, he just closed his eyes and grimaced slightly. 

“Go home for a while Sammy. You’ve been up here all day, and I’m sure Eileen is gonna start to worry after a while. I don’t think they’re going to do anything else to me tonight, but if they do I’ll be sure to have Y/N call you. You look exhausted.”

Sam’s mouth set in a tight line, but he didn’t argue with Dean, he just nodded his head and stood. There would be a time to hash things out with Dean, but when he was still processing his own fate, it wasn’t the time nor the place, if he wanted to be alone for a while with Y/N, Sam certainly wasn’t going to argue with that. 

“If you guys need something, just call, I’m only about five minutes up the road.” Sam offered, placing a hand on his brother's arm briefly before he walked to the door. Dean watched him go with an unreadable look on his face, watching him until he closed it completely behind him. 

“He means well Dean, he just—he doesn’t really know how to process this I don’t think,” Y/N attempted, and Dean snorted slightly before closing his eyes and resting his head against the hand that was still playing with his hair. 

“Well, that makes two of us, because fuck if I don’t either,” Dean admitted before running his hand down his face grimacing at the movement and the amount of stubble he found there. 

“How long was I out again?” he asked. 

“Four days,” she answered, and laughed at the face he made as he scratched at the stubble, well, more of a beard almost at that point, on his face. 

“We’ll see about digging out the electric razor tomorrow and cleaning that up some,” Y/N said with a chuckle. 

Dean swore under his breath and his eyes diverted to the window, streaks of rain slid down the cloud gray glass, and a slight roll of thunder echoed outside, making Y/N look that way briefly as well. 

“I would have never thought—fuck me,” Dean said, taking a shaky breath. “This is not how I anticipated that hunt to end.” 

“I don’t think anyone of us could have Dean, there was nothing we could have done to have known or prevent it—”

“No, I could have prevented it. I fucked up. I made a rookie’s mistake. I should have been paying better attention to my surroundings. Those damn pieces of rebar were everywhere in that barn. I should have never been dumb enough to put myself between one and that fucking vamp.”

“Well, it’s too late to worry about that now, the damage is done, we can’t reverse it, all you can do is heal from it, so stop beating yourself up over things you can’t change,” Y/N scolded him, and Dean smirked slightly. 

“But beating myself up is my nature sweetheart,” he attempted to jest, but it fell short, his breath was starting to come out in short pants and grunts more than smooth intakes of air, and he was starting to sweat slightly. His hands started to tremble as he held onto Y/N’s hand, as well as the blanket that lay flat over him. 

“Dean,” Y/N said, standing to her feet, worry laced in her voice as she took in the state of him and hit the nurse call button. “What’s wrong?” 

“Pain’s back,” he admitted through gritted teeth, and the nurse came rushing through the door with a syringe in her hand. 

“I’m sorry Mr. Clearwater,” she apologized as she hurried to give him the pain medication. “I was on my way to your room when another patient coded, and you ended up going over the time for your medication. It should kick in quickly.”

Y/N sat quietly, watching him breathe into it, his eyes shut tight as he could get them, until finally, after about a minute he relaxed, and slowly released the death grip on Y/N’s hand before looking up at her with exhausted green eyes, and the nurse placed a hand on his knee. 

“You’ve been up for a long time, try and get some sleep while that medication’s working, okay?” she said, giving his knee a slight pat before leaving the room, and Dean nodded, his eyes heavy from the medication, and the exhaustion of everything that seemed to come crashing down around him today. 

“Promise you will be here when I wake up?” Dean questioned, his words slurred slightly, and Y/N smiled as he tucked the covers around him. Even though it fucking broke her to see him like this. She hated it. Hated every minute of it. He didn’t need to see that though. All he needed to see was that she was there for him, and that’s all she intended to let him see. 

“I’m gonna be right here handsome, I promise. Hellhounds couldn’t drag me away.”

Forever:

@demongirl1996​​​​  

@as-lost-as-sams-shoe​​​​

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@slamminmine​​​​

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@i-love-superhero-movies​​​​

@lyss-dw79​​​​

@magssteenkamp​​​​

@lemondropirwin​​​​

@squirrelnotsam​​​​

@hobby27​​​

@spnbaby-67​​​​  

@mrsjenniferwinchester​​​​

@defenderrosetyler​​​​

@thecreatiivecorner​​​​  

@vicmc624​​​​

@busy-bee-angel-misska​​​​

@justanotherwinchester​​​​

@brilovesdeanwinchester​​​​

@idksupernatural​​​​

@lyarr24​​​​

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Jensen and Dean’s Babes

@deans-baby-momma​​​​  

@impalaslytherin​​​​

@perpetualabsurdity​​​​

@msmarvelouswinchester​​​​

@akshi8278​​​​

@love-jackles​​​​

@irmcpar​​​​

@pink-sparkly-witch​​​​

@siospins2​​​​

@herstarburststories​​​​

@mimaria420​​​​

@deanwinchesterswitch​​​​​

@charred-angelwings​​​

@pascal-rascal424​​​​​

@myloversgone​​​​​

@fortheloveof-jackles​​​​​

@eevvvaa​​​​​

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@jxackles​​​​​

@lassie-bird​​​​​

@samsgirl93​​​​​

@shawnie74​​​​​  

@kaz11283​​​​​

@mlovesstories​

[she-karev]

The Girlfriend and The Dog Meet (Andrew DeLuca x Alex Karev’s Sister Imagine)

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A post shared by Giacomo Gianniotti (@giacomo_gianniotti)

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: One of One

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

Ship: Andrew DeLuca x Amber Karev (Alex Karev’s Sister)

AN: So, I know it’s late but August 26th was international dog day and I wanted to write a story surrounding dogs because they are god’s gift I speak as a dog mom. Like and reblog below and let me know what you think.

Summary: DeLuca is discharged from the hospital with Amber who is asked a very important question by him that he claims will impact their relationship.

Words: 2244

May 14th, 2020

After the past two weeks of having tests and physical therapy and being sent thank you cards and flowers Andrew DeLuca is more than ready to go home. He has been inside the hospital for 10 days and it feels like an eternity has passed.

He has felt discomfort now and then, especially when the tube was exerted from his throat. Also, it was hard to move around without stretching the surgical scars. Bailey has run the tests on him and he can tell she’s doing this out of shame as she apologized for not believing him the day he first accused Opal. He forgave her as he understood he was presenting himself as manic and unstable and not handling the situation as he normally would. The only thing that made his stay bearable was the company of Carina and Amber.

Carina has been a big help with getting him to walk around for PT and getting him food that he was craving. She also got her girlfriend Maya to get Andrew’s dog Jazz out of his empty apartment and into theirs so he can be taken care of while his owner is at the hospital. He received texts with videos of Jazz enjoying his temporary home being cuddled by their roommate Andy Herrera who jokes she is his new owner now.

Andrew packs his duffel bag as his memories of jazz play through his mind and he realizes there is one person in his life that has not met the furry tripod who stole his heart, his girlfriend, Amber Karev.

He groans at this in regret and wonders how Amber will feel about his doggy roommate. For as long as he’s known her, she hasn’t given any indication if she likes cats or dogs. He never brought it up because he thought like her that he would be so busy with work that a pet wouldn’t be in the picture.

But now since he adopted Jazz, he can’t imagine having another dog in his place. He just hopes Amber can feel the same way because he doesn’t want to choose between the two of them. He hears a knock on his door and he turns to find Amber opening the door wearing her casual clothes and black mask. He smiles at the sight of her because if there was one good thing about this year is Amber finally giving them another chance.

At first, he thought it was out of pity because he was stabbed but he listened to the voicemail she left the night before his attack and knows she’s here because she wants to be. And it’s an opportunity he is determined not to screw up again. But first he needs to have a conversation with her that is overdue.

“Are you ready to go home?” Amber asks closing the door behind her, “After two weeks of quarantine at a hotel room I mean.”

Andrew grins, “Well room service should be better than the food they have here, and they also have premium cable. I think I’ll survive.”

Amber smiles before walking so they can stand six feet from each other, “Well if you ever need someone to talk to through the door or drop off chicken soup for you for once I’m your girl.”

“Careful I’m definitely gonna take you up on that.” Andrew teases causing Amber to grin before he clicks his tongue and gets to his question, “Amber…you’ve been great I mean really you have been this past year has been rough and a lot has happened but one of the few things that have kept my feet on the ground is you walking in and giving me another chance. I mean seeing you and touching you as much as I can it’s a welcome relief after everything.”

Amber frowns at this, “What’s the bad news?”

Andrew furrows his eyebrows at that slightly scared she figured him out so quick, “What do you mean?”

“I wasn’t born yesterday, DeLuca.” Amber states bluntly, “You always compliment me before you give me a piece of information that you think is bound to upset me.”

Andrew chuckles at this before Amber lays out examples, “You told me I was the sexiest woman alive before telling me you spilled my expensive eye cream all over the floor. You said I was the smartest resident in my class before telling me you assigned me scut for the next few weeks under Bailey’s orders. Also, you tried to ply me with a lavish Italian dinner before I found out you bought a motorcycle without consulting me.”

Andrew frowns at that last one remembering how peeved she was before she pointed out all the braindead patients, they get monthly due to motorcycle accidents. It was safe to say at that point that the dinner he made didn’t diminish her worry for his safety and her fury for what she thinks was a stupid decision on his part.

“I know your tactics and I know you Andrew DeLuca so out with it just give it to me straight it’s how I like my bad news.”

Andrew starts, “Okay it’s not bad news or even news its more like…a question. It’s a question that I have to ask out of concern for you and for our relationship and where we go from here. It’s an important question and your response is vital on what happens to us moving forward.”

Amber’s eyes widen at that, but she inhales and stands her ground, “Okay, what’s the question?”

“Amber…how do you feel about dogs?”

Amber is startled by this question before she laughs and snorts, “That’s it? That’s the question?”

Andrew keeps a serious face, “You laugh now bella but this is an important question either way.”

Amber clears her throat but still has an amused smile, “Sorry yes, deadly serious um…I don’t know I’ve never had a dog or given it much thought. I guess it depends on the dog, is that a good response?”

“It’s good cause I got a dog I want you to meet.” Andrew tells Amber, who widens her eyes at this as the smile falls from her face.

“You have a dog?” Amber asks out of pure curiosity.

Andrew nods, “Yeah, Jazz.”

Amber’s mouth gapes open and for a moment she’s silent before shaking her head out of it, “You have a dog named Jazz?”

“I do.”

“You’ve never mentioned this.”

Andrew shrugs, “It never came up.”

“Where is he? I mean you didn’t leave him alone in your apartment while you were recovering, did you? Because I think I’m gonna have to dump you for doing something that negligent and cruel.”

Andrew chuckles, “He’s with my sister and her girlfriend. I like to think of him as my fur baby and I don’t neglect my baby’s needs.”

“Good.” Amber says approvingly, “Wow three months apart and you get a dog go figure.”

“Well, I didn’t plan on it believe me but when he came to the hospital after his asshole owners fed him drugs, I had to take him in. It took a while and a few destroyed pillows, but we warmed up to each other and became inseparable.”

Amber looks shocked at this backstory before chuckling, “Wow he sounds like me, persevering tragic background and finding an Italian to curl up to at night.”

Andrew snorts at her comparison, “What can I say? I have a healing touch.”

“Oh god.” Amber groans in amusement, “Well I can’t wait to meet him…in 14 days. Now let’s get you packed for your quarantine.” Andrew groans but follows suit with Amber helping him. He looks up with a pleased grin at her reaction and hopes Jazz gives her a chance as well.

May 28th, 2020

“I know I’ve hit you with a lot of information, but I need some sense that we’re on the same page.” Andrew asks Jazz who is sitting in front of him panting up at his owner who picked him up and brought him to the apartment last night, “No biting Amber got it? I’m not gonna lose the best relationship I have again because of your hostility towards strangers. And if your good to her I will give you salmon and eggs but only after you treat Amber nicely.”

Andrew finishes the breakfast on his pan that he made as an incentive for Jazz to encourage him to get along with Amber. He finds that cooked meals are a great treat for his dog to train him as he learned from teaching him to pee outside and not destroy the pillows.

Jazz whines clearly wanting the meal now and looks up at Andrew with pleading eyes, “Oh you can whine all you want but I’m not giving you this high protein breakfast unless I see you try to tolerate the woman I love. Think of it as a reward.” A knock on the door alerts Andrew as he puts the eggs in a plate, “Now’s your chance stay put.”

Andrew walks to the door making sure Jazz stays in his spot before he opens the door to find Amber on the other side holding up her phone.

“Negative covid test, I’m clean.”

“Well in that case come on in.” Andrew holds the door open for Amber who comes in and takes her mask off before she finds Jazz sitting on the couch watching Amber, “Amber this is Jazz, Jazz this is Amber.”

Amber grins at the dog before cautiously approaching him holding her hand out for him to sniff, “He’s cute is he friendly?”

“Uh mostly he takes a while to get used to strangers though so don’t be offended if he’s skittish at first. He’s very independent and we haven’t had guests beyond Carina and Maya so it can take a while before he-”

To Andrew’s shock Jazz licks Amber’s hand after sniffing her for a few moments causing her to aww. She then stands in front of the black tripod scratching behind his ears that he clearly likes as he smiles while panting. It takes Andrew by surprise as it took two days for Jazz to let him pet him while he let Amber do it after meeting her for two seconds. He decides not to point it out because he wanted them to get along and he got his wish.

“Or he’s been waiting his whole life for you to show up.”

Amber chuckles at that as she continues to pet Jazz, “Well the feeling is mutual, I guess. Is that salmon I smell?”

Andrew remembers Jazz’s reward, “And eggs which reminds me.”

Amber steps back and follows Andrew to the kitchen, “I already ate before I came but I appreciate it though.”

“Oh no it’s for Jazz.” Andrew moves to put the scrambled salmon and eggs in the dog bowl that Jazz greedily eats to his owner’s pleasure who kneels down and strokes the dog, “Yes, who’s a good dog? Who’s the best dog? You are.”

Amber is surprised by this sight, but she chuckles lightly with a smile, “Wow this is a side of you I haven’t seen.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“It’s a new thing.” Amber says before grabbing a water bottle from the fridge, “But hey at least I know what to get you for your birthday.”

Andrew furrows his eyebrows, “It’s not a puppy is it? Because this guy is enough thank you very much.”

Amber chuckles, “No see I was thinking a t shirt that says WORLDS BEST DOG DAD in bright red letters with a bitmoji of you and your new BFF.”

Andrew chuckles before standing up, “Oh you would just love to have me wear that to the gym, where all the bodybuilders can see it wouldn’t you?”

“After I put a lot of thought into it yeah.”

Andrew smiles at this before leaning down to kiss Amber who responds. She runs her fingers through his hair that she almost forgot the velvety feel of it. After weeks of tests and quarantine this moment between them as an official couple once again feels like fireworks are going off.

He puts his hands on her hips missing the feel of her before loud panting interrupts them. Amber opens her eyes to see Jazz sitting in front of them watching this scene. She pulls back from Andrew who turns and notices to his amusement.

Andrew chuckles, “Relax, he’s a dog he doesn’t know what’s going on.”

Amber nods in agreement before going back to kissing him. She tries to get lost in the make out session, but she opens her eyes to find Jazz is still there and panting at them.

Amber pulls back, “I can’t do it, nope not right in front of him. It’s like having your child watch his dad make out with the new girlfriend and I know the unsettling feeling with the men my mother dated so I will spare your fur baby the same.”

Andrew groans as Amber pulls out a few things from her purse before walking toward his bathroom, “Where are you going?”

“To take a bath.” Andrew sighs in defeat at this until Amber adds, “And you’re joining me. It’s the one room in your place with a door. Come on before Jazz ruins the moment again lets go.”

Andrew grins mischievously, “Yes ma’am.” Andrew follows Amber inside the bathroom promptly closing the door to give them privacy.

[artsybug0]

(First of, thank you so much for responding to my question! Mademesohappyhrhehehehe, btw I was the one that asked what would RF Millie do if she had a person who was just in love her AND NOW I’m gonna add more to what you just said! If that’s okay)

Now, due to this person backstory and just trauma in general (I could go on full rant about it BUT I WONT SINCE THAT WOULD BE SO LONG AND I JUST DONT WANT TO BOTHER YOU AND BECAUSE THIS ISNT ABOUT THEM- I’m going off topic omg I’m sorry)

They would feel really really bad, they would probably stop helping everyone and help RF Millie the most, they honestly don’t want anyone to hate them or even be annoyed with them, they are even kinda of be being overwhelming? They help RF Millie without Millie having to asked and just being really sweet towards her (giving her pills for her headaches stuff like that) and is kinda of like “please I am so sorry you can punch me if you want just don’t hate me:(“ (let’s say it again folks ✨ trauma✨

(Sorry if I’m bothering you btw!-)

Oh you aren’t bothering me at all haha! I enjoy answering these questions just a lot of the time I want to draw for them but never have the motivation- so sorry to everyone who still has an unanswered submission!

But RF Millie in general is a very distant, cold, awkward individual. She mostly mumbles but will raise her voice in annoyance if you aren’t doing the work right in her eyes. Before she takes over your work to do it herself-

Millie would act annoyed and irritated all the time because she feels like this is some kind of joke on her.

I mean, she doesn’t have family or friends. So why would someone just randomly be like this with her? She definitely has been asked out as a joke before so she doesn’t want to take any chances.

She’s gonna try to stay distant because she doesn’t want to “fall for the joke”. And always rejects their offer of help. She prefers to work alone.

But when they take care of her like giving her pills, or helping her when she randomly passes out. She will mumble a thank you and move on. But after doing it like 12 times Millie will still mumble a thank you, walk away, but later places a snack from a vending machine on their desk as a gift of some kind. It’s not much but that’s the best she’s gonna do for A LONG TIME.

Keep in mind she’s HELLA TRAUMATIZED herself-

Her parents were killed a lot later in life for her (she was 15) she was never adopted or fostered.

She aged out of the orphanage

She was originally considered very pretty so she did have friends sorta but she still has a lot of issues mentally cause I don’t think she even got therapy- along with something happening to cause her wings to be torn off of her body.

After a chemical explosion she “lost her beauty” and quickly became uninteresting to her coworkers. Causing her be lonely and not very social. No one visited her in the hospital.

Except Wally who was making sure she didn’t die- like I think he didn’t actually care but was confirming if he needed to replace her or not

But either way that was enough to capture her heart cause she thought he did care lmao

But with all of that she’s very…hesitant with making friends or dating anyone who isn’t Wally cause to her he “proved” he care (he didn’t)

And even if Millie wanted to punch them I don’t think she would or could haha!

She’s very thin and not that strong so- she would just hurt her hand 🤣

[lulubelle814]

Just Dizziness - Chapter 29

Emma stopped by that night for dinner, apparently eager to see me. Before Tom had a chance to sit, she stole the seat next to me, forcing him to sit across the table. Since he couldn't hold my hand through dinner like he wanted, he resorted to playing footsie which I enjoyed, feeling like a teenager.

"I've been wanting to come by and see you, but I know you must have loads going on. I can't even begin to imagine how you must be feeling."

"Em…" Tom interrupted, trying to steer the conversation away to something lighter.

"No, it's ok. We can't pretend it never happened, as much as I wish we could. It’s been extremely frustrating, but Tom has been beyond incredible. I don't know what I'd do without him honestly. He makes it easier to handle, more bearable. He's been so incredibly patient.  I feel broken, and he's been helping me put the pieces back together."

Emma leaned over and gave me a hug from the side. "I'm here if you need a friend or someone else to talk to. Tom's a great big brother (and I will deny ever having said that), but if you ever want some girl time, feel free to ring me up."

"Thank you. That means a lot." And I meant it. I love Tom, but I know it's not sustainable to keep relying on him all the time.  He has his work and his friends, and at some point I need to figure out mine.  Hopefully therapy will be able to help me figure out how to get there. 

Once dinner was over, Tom and I headed back home, Bobby chilling in the back seat. Emma's idea of girl time rang around in my head. Maybe I should take her up on it?  

Sophie seemed nice. Tom told me that she and I were friends before the accident. Maybe this could be a good opportunity to maybe get to know her again? She seemed so nice when she came by the hospital. I don't know though. 

By the time we reached home, it was late. We let Bobby out to do his business before tucking in for the night. When I woke up the next morning, however, it was early.  The sun was just coming up, peaking through the curtains.  The way the rays hit Tom’s face gave him an ethereal look.  For a moment, I could have sworn I was in heaven, that he was an angel.  I held myself back from stroking his hair, fearful to wake this sleeping angel, instead being satisfied with gazing upon his perfect form.  

A moment later, he adjusted in his sleep, the sheet drifting down to reveal his perfect chest with a smattering of hair, freckles scattered here and there. The internal battle grew as I gazed at him.  Before I knew it, my fingers tucked back an errant hair that had fallen into his face. The touch seemed to have awakened him as a low groan erupted from his chest. 

"Darling, is everything alright?" His voice had a mixture of concern and something else. 

"Everything is fine. I was just admiring you in the light of the sunrise. You look like an angel."  

"If anyone is an angel, my darling, it is you."

He leaned over and lightly brushed his lips against mine.  I couldn’t help but finally comb my fingers through his hair in reaction, increasing the intensity of the kiss at the same time.  Before either of us knew it, we had lost ourselves in the throws of passion, completely losing track of time and becoming a tangle of limbs as we fell asleep in blissful exhaustion.

Waking up later that morning to Bobby’s loud request to go outside, Tom leaned over, giving me a sweet kiss.  “Stay here.  I’ll take care of him and bring back something to eat?”

“That sounds nice.”  Once he left, there was a crashing sound quickly followed by a shouted whisper of “shit” as something fell around the backdoor.  Apparently Bobbers really had to go.  Poor baby!  My bladder then reminded me I too needed the loo sooner rather than later.  When I finished up, I wandered downstairs to find out what happened and found a mess in the kitchen along with a slightly injured Tom slumped on the back porch with Bobby running around the garden, occasionally rolling around in the grass.  It was hard not to let out a slight laugh at Tom’s poor state.  Evidently poor Bobby had somehow gotten into something he shouldn’t and partially relieved himself near the backdoor, Tom finding it in the hurry to let him out by stepping and slipping in it, falling and knocking over some items off the counter.

Oh my poor boys.

I cleaned up Bobby’s accident before grabbing a wet towel, some soap, and a first aid kit to check on Tom.  Joining him outside, I cleaned his foot and shins, he kept his head hung.  I disinfected the few scratches he had.  Luckily, nothing needed to be bandaged.  “You alright?”

“Mostly a bruised ego it seems.  You were right about the dog door idea.”

“I told you we should get the fencing fixed so we can get it installed.  Maybe an automatic feeder as well?”

In a flash, his eyes were on me, hands gripping my shoulders.  “Wait, you remember that?”

“Remember what?”  I was so confused.

“We talked about that before your accident, the dog door, the feeder…..”

Thinking for a moment, nothing came to mind, not a conversation nor an inkling about the fence.  “I don’t know where that came from…..”

“I think it’s a very good sign though.”  And I couldn’t disagree with him.  It felt like a natural response which means the memories are still somewhere in there, right?

“Maybe it’s also a sign that it’s a good time to look for a therapist?  One that can help with this type of issue?”

He smiled back at me.  “I think that’s a brilliant idea.  I love you so much, my dearest.”  As he cupped my face with his hands, I wrapped my arms around his neck, and he leaned in to give a sweet kiss.

Chapter 30

[brunchbitch]

I started the termination conversation with my clients this week. It was hard and sad but also gratifying. All of them so far expressed sadness and disappointment that I was leaving (one guy was like “NOOOOOO” 😂) so it feels good to know I’ll be missed. A couple of my clients have said they’re not sure if they’ll continue with therapy after I leave which at first I was concerned about, but they explained that they just really trust me and feel like they got everything they needed to in their therapy with me. With the exception of one of my clients who is in prison (I wasn’t seeing him consistently before he was arrested though), all my clients have improved significantly with the symptoms that brought them to therapy. One client hasn’t changed his behaviors of drinking every day, but he has definitely moved from precontemplation to contemplation in the stages of change which is a big deal for him. I am so glad that I’ve had this experience and discovered how much I enjoy therapy from the other side of the couch. I also think it’s helped a lot in terms of my fear of men - I didn’t have a single female client!! Not intentionally, but that was just the way it worked out. I’ve also really liked learning more about HIV and opportunistic infections.

It’s bittersweet to finish this internship and it’s hard to hear how easy it is to get a job at this hospital after you’ve been an intern there because I’m moving to Seattle and have to look for jobs there. If I were staying in Boston I would 1000% want to work there.

[bad-danganronpa-ocs]

I have decided to give you My Ocs for you to look at. (BE HONEST!!!)

KEITH ROGERS.

Full name: Keith Rogers

Gender: Male

Pronouns: He/him

Age: 17

Nationality: American

Sexuality: Pansexual

Ultimate Talent: ULTIMATE SUPPORTER

Personality:

He is a Kind and supportive person who cares for everyone and tries to help out Anyone who needs it, But he isn’t stupid and is pretty smart and can tell when people are trying to manipulate him.

Keith is also pretty distrusting of some Doctors due to his trauma in the past. (But that doesn’t stop him from getting help from others.)

(I hope I wrote it the best I could)

Appearance:

He Looks somewhat like Hajime Hinata but with glasses. (And without the ahoge)

(I know that feels generic and I agree.)

Backstory:

(Note - I hope I wrote this well, This is the first time creating a full backstory written wise due to how many notes I’ve created for him.)

Keith Rogers is born to a normal family around the early 2000s (Probably 2003.)

Keith was a normal kid who wanted to do good things and leave his mark on the world, Even at a early age he was a fan of movies and pop culture and stuff like that and that give him the urge to want to create books that could change the world and change peoples perspectives on it.

But this would be taken away from him due to him being put into a mental hospital that was because of a doctors misdiagnosis and stuff like that.

Keith would be in that Mental hospital and would be put though HELL!!! From Electro shock therapy to untested medication that made Keith sick weeks on end which almost Killed him.

Keith isn’t alone though…as he would make some friends with some of the child Patients who also had there own issues. (I didn’t create characters for them but I would make them in the future cause I’m still improving on my writings.)

Keith would stay in that mental asylum until one faithful Stormy night…

…Keith was in his bed and was trying to sleep though the night and decided to get a glass of water from the Hospitals cafeteria (I haven’t been to one so I don’t know where it would actually be.)

But when he was going back to his room…He saw there was dead bodies everywhere!!! Some were Hanged some were stabbed and some had there wrists Slit and there was alot of blood.

Keith didn’t know what happened…But that image stayed in his mind as he ran back to his room and was going to open the door when he saw one of the older teen patients he knew was holding a knife and was looking crazy…

“The Medication made me do this Keith…It made us go MAD…Your next Keith…Your next…YourNextYourNextYourNextYourNext…”

Keith then freaked out and ran out the window and into the stormy rainy outside…Keith had escape his nightmare…

Keith would then escape and went into hiding for a few years and the police never found him!

(Note - Keith Could have been hallucinating due to the untested medicine and the patient with the knife wasn’t really there! Or the Guy was really there and he Killed some of the patients. What was true though is that the other patients killed themselves probably due to the medication or other reasons.)

(I’m just clarifying some stuff if you need some extra notes.)

 Meanwhile the mental hospital would be shut down and the rest of the living patients would be given real medical help because of the untested medication probably hurt them really bad.

Years later…Keith would be put into the 93rd Killing game created by Team Danganronpa in 2020 and it would change the world forever…

———————————————————————

I hope you enjoyed this weird Oc that I created in the past.

Keith was inspired by Hajimes backstory somewhat but with some changes and stuff like that.

AND YES!!! There will be a Izuru type character as well as a OC but they would be a separate character and they would be the Ultimate Phantom thief.

Once again I do not do reviews anymore. I put this blog down like the hideous small animal it is. But I guess if you want comments I’ll just say that that’s not really how mental hospitals work nowadays, like at all. You’re not allowed to have any sharp objects on hand, and I don’t just mean knives, I mean sharpened pencils, pens, anything with a glass screen that can be broken, etcetera. You also can’t have rope or anything else you could hang yourself with. When I went as a kid they took the drawstring out of my pants, and the beds don’t have sheets on them.

Also in the modern day ECT (electroconvulsive therapy) is still used, but only with informed consent. Basically Keith would’ve had to agree to undergo ECT beforehand. Even still, it’s only really used as a last resort.

A friend of mine actually suffered a lot of medical misdiagnosis as a kid, and they were put on so many different medications that it actually gave them brain damage, so ECT doesn’t necessarily need to be part of the backstory at all. Of course if you’re really going for the more horror movie-esque Victorian sanatorium type of mental ward, I’d just make the doctors more sinister than the patients. Sufferers of mental illness are more likely to be victims of murder than to murder others.

Basically you have a decent start and just need to rework the hospital backstory to be more believable and less accidentally demonizing the mentally ill.

Maybe I should just make this a writing help blog.

-Mod Soda

[af0922]

27

Today I am 27. I’ve heard that 27 is often one of the toughest years and is notoriously when celebrities overdose or otherwise pass away. If 26 didn’t kill me, I don’t think anything will.

26 was the hardest year of my life, and brought me so much growth. 26 brought me recovery, therapy, new (and damaged) relationships, and a growing and beautiful family. Today I have so much to be grateful for. I don’t write/ journal often, but when I do I am left feeling lighter, appreciative, and at ease- so I’m writing today as I reflect.

258 days ago it was January 7, 2023 and I found out I was pregnant with Farabee #2. What a blessing this was, and yet I found myself horrified. At this point I was 8 months into an eating disorder that left me purging my meals twice daily as well as abusing weight loss medication. This medication while prescribed by a doctor (who didn’t know I had an ED), left me severely anemic and with a struggling liver, and the thought of supporting my failing body and another human life was overwhelming. I am lucky enough to have a husband who loves me unconditionally and when I told him I needed help, he stepped in like Superman and helped take things off my plate so I could focus on recovery. I knew I needed to be better for my growing children. I quickly found comfort in confiding in my psychiatrist who linked me with a therapist as well as a nutrition therapist and I have a really amazing team helping me take care of myself. I haven’t purged in 258 days, since the day I found out I was pregnant and I can now appreciate food and am teaching my daughters to nourish their bodies in a safe way. I am so incredibly thankful.

My pregnancy was HARD. I was struggling daily in my recovery, and found myself with debilitating headaches come second trimester that were only occasionally aided with medication. I spent nearly every day fighting to get out of bed, go to work, and take care of my wild and rambunctious toddler. Still being unsure of my own feelings towards the pregnancy, I kept it pretty secret only telling my family and close friends until I was into my third trimester. We were thrilled at 14 weeks when we found out we had another daughter coming, but my feelings were still muted and I was enjoying keeping the news of a new baby to myself and my little family. On 9/7 I went into labor naturally (and if you do the math that’s a whole two days before I delivered) and embraced the pain and difficulty of the labor, I even enjoyed it a little. It felt as if the pain of the year was finally crashing down and nearing an end. And I was right. I delivered Helena on 9/9 with a rough and turbulent c section. My spinal block wouldn’t take, which resulted in a painful and many attempted epidural. She was stuck in my pelvis requiring a vacuum suction to remove her, and when she arrived she was swollen and bruised from her evacuation. Helena was sent to the NICU immediately and had a 3 night stay there while they removed fluid from her lungs and nourished her with an IV. This was not the experience I had envisioned for us. No golden hour. No immediate nursing (or much nursing at all), and instead I was left in my post op recovery room alone while I awaited news and photos from my husband who was down in the nicu. I split time for those first three days from my own hospital room and her nicu room, feeling my mental health decline each day that I had to spend time away from my children. My hormones were confused and so was I. Feeling the pull to be with my newborn, but being afraid to touch her while she was on machines and hooked up to IVs. I was so lucky to have a support system that kept someone with me just about every second of the day, but even then it was painful. Finally on day 4 when we were released to go home I felt like we were in the clear and I was excited to be home to bond with my baby.

I required an additional four days in the hospital after Nate took me back to the ER at 1:00 AM the morning after we were sent home. I woke up with a crackle in my chest, just like I did with Josephine back in 2021, but this time I caught it much sooner. I was diagnosed with postpartum preeclampsia again, and thought more stubborn to resolve this time, we cleared the fluid from my lungs and heart and got my blood pressure under control. More pain as I had to be away from Josie, but now I am home and feeling so good. I am so incredibly thankful.

In the midst of the chaos of my 26 year, I have so much to be grateful for! I have two beautiful daughters that give me purpose, light, love, and laughter. I love nothing more in this life than being their mom. I have a rock solid marriage and a husband that I love more and more each day. Watching him with our children makes me feel whole and our family is everything to both of us. I have found solace in the nonspecific religion of Paganism, still finding my niche but confident that polytheism is where I belong. We have been celebrating pagan holidays as a family this year and it feels like home. I am excited to raise my girls praising and sacrificing to the gods. I have found independence. Some of my closest relationships have been strained this year, and within it I have found myself. I am setting boundaries, making myself a priority, and finding confidence in my own decisions for the first time. Again, I am so incredibly thankful.

26 hurt me. 26 blessed me. And today I am manifesting 27 will be good to me and my girls.

[altheterrible]

I'm excited about a future I never planned to have.

The therapist I saw through all four years of grad school, Kirk, gave me a plant as a parting/graduation gift the last time we met. It was a jade plant, a succulent. He told me that he picked it because he’d seen jade plants thrive in conditions that would be fatal for less sturdy plants, and that reminded him of me, thriving despite my shitty circumstances. Immediately, I was paralyzed by the idea of accidentally killing such a meaningful gift; my history with plants hasn’t been great. Kirk said if the plant did end up dying, that was okay. Plants die. Relationships end. Things change. Life is an ocean that is always in flux.  The most important thing, he said, was that I had learned that my ship could stay afloat no matter what storms the ocean threw at me. 

I was talking to my current therapist on Tuesday about how the therapy I did in grad school was basically triage. For four years, I fought to get myself stable enough that I was no longer in danger of killing myself, either purposefully or through self-harm. It was work that needed to be done before I could attempt, like, real therapy. Trauma therapy. Before I worked with Kirk, my memories--and the associated fear, anger--would completely overwhelm me several times a week. Self-harm was my surefire method to stop the spiraling and get back in the present, get back in control. I would cut myself, burn myself, hit myself, or overdose multiple times a week because I felt like the emotions inside of me were so huge, so extreme, that they would destroy me if I felt them. I needed to stop them instead. 

So I did. Self harm was a life hack that meant in an instant, my anxiety, my anger, my sadness, whatever--it would be gone. It was like I could force-close my emotions. I had an instant off switch. The only problem was that this switch didn’t just turn off painful emotions, it worked by turning off all emotions. For a long time, I was fine with that--feeling nothing was an improvement over the pain I was always in. But it got to where I felt so numb that even things that should have brought me joy didn’t touch me. I felt like there was nothing worth living for because my options were “feel bad” or “feel nothing” and I felt trapped. The idea of living like that forever felt impossible. Staying alive felt pointless. The future felt hostile. I decided I didn't want to stick around for it.

Kirk got me out of that place and I'll never forget it. It took four years of CBT, DBT, group therapy, medication roulette, and three different psychiatric hospitals, but I finally managed to mostly kick the self-harm habit. I still slip up a few times a year, sure, but it’s not like it was. I’ve accepted that being 100% self-harm free probably isn’t going to happen for me, and that’s okay. I used to be very black and white about it. If I slipped up, I felt like I was a failure. I had to learn that slipping up doesn’t erase the good days. One bad day in a month of good days still  meant I used better coping skills 29/30 days. I’m proud of the progress I’ve made. I think the therapy I did in grad school was harder than getting the degree. And it’s certainly been more helpful.

Anyway, I’ve had this jade plant since May 2019. Four years. But, uh, it isn’t looking too good right now. It might need to be repotted. It might need more sun. It’s wilting. I don’t know if I watered it too much, or if I didn’t water it enough. Plants don’t tell me what they need like my pets do.

I’m not giving up; I’m going to try repotting it. Jade plants are pretty resilient, so it has a good chance of bouncing back. But like, if it doesn’t, the idea of this plant dying no longer devastates me like it did four years ago. Because yes, plants die. Relationships end. Things change. Life is an ocean that’s always in flux. And all you can really do is enjoy the moments of smooth sailing when they happen, and when a storm blows in, know that it will pass.

I feel my feelings now instead of desperately trying to shut them off. A lot of the time, it sucks. I’m angry. I’m sad. I’m hurt. I’m lonely. But the tradeoff is that now I can feel positive emotions again. I feel joy, I feel creative, I feel connected to people in a way I’ve never been before.

Sometimes I watch the sun rise as I’m walking to work, and I feel so hopeful about the future I almost cry.

I don’t know what the future holds, but I am excited as fuck to find out.

[elavita]

11/20/2022 - Intro

TW - many triggering topics discussed (Self harm, abuse, etc)

Hi! My name is Finnegan Felix MacPherson, but you can just call me Finn. I am 20 years old, and I am from Buffalo, New York. I enjoy nature and long walks on the beach. I have 2 parents, and a sister. I am fascinated by anything. My passions include sailing and learning new languages. I go to school for engineering, and I love everything about it.

And,

I am gay.

Growing up in the Midwest was not always easy. I have lots of trauma as most 20-year-olds do now. As you may know, it's not always easy being, well... different.

My family is quite loving, yet dysfunctional. We all have our issues, and we all don't know how to deal with them. I personally have body dysmorphia, depression, and anxiety. My sister has OCD. And my parents don't know how to deal with those situations.

School was tough, but I got through it. I came out when I was 15, but I've had issues regarding my sexuality before then. I was 14 when I was sexually assaulted, and it had me all sorts of messed up. It spiraled me down into a dark valley, filled with dead Ash trees and decrepit gargoyles and castles. This is what lead me into a my 'gay panic' phase. An aside - I am not saying that the sexual assault, is what caused me to be gay, but it definitely made me feel inferior as a human. This contributed to my body dysmorphia, and hypersexuality later in life.

Upon entering high school, I was constantly made fun of for how I look, talk, and act. I wasn't like the other guys. I loved sports, and still do don't get me wrong, but I also was very musical and a nerd. I got called many slurs, such as 'fag', 'queer', you name it. I hadn't even realized I was gay, yet all my classmates made this decision for me.

Eventually I did come out, slowly but surely. I told friend after friend. I initially came out as Bi, but I began to come to terms with only liking boys. However, someone who I thought was my friend had outed me to most of the school. I decided to come out publicly at school. I had no other choice.

I began to develop anxiety and depression. I started to slit my wrists.

I hated myself.

I told my sister and parents about my revelation, and they also had found out about my cutting habit.

They were terrified.

Not because I was gay, they were super accepting, but they were afraid I was going to kill myself. They sent me off to therapy, but it never really has helped until recently.

I spent my teen years crushing on straight guys, something quite unproductive. This lead me further into an even more sinister state of mind. Despite being clean for a couple of years, I started to cut again.

On Christmas Eve during my senior year, I tried to kill myself. I was sent to the hospital, and I felt so guilty for making my parents stay in a hospital during Christmas. How perfect, the happiest time of the year, and I wanted to kill myself.

Eventually, I got "healthy", and graduated in the top five percent of my class. I decided to start school in Florida, where I would live with my aunt and commute. That really didn't work out though.

See, my aunt wasn't the most agreeable person on the face of the planet. She bullied me and my grandmother, who was living down there at the time, quite profusely. I also got involved with people. I had met someone who I thought I could trust. I ended up giving away my virginity to this person, because he said it was going to develop into a relationship. This sunk me back into a horrible state of mind despite being ok for the past half of a year. Things only got worse when conflict arose with my aunt. The constant fighting with her got so bad, I had to drive my grandmother and I all the way back to Buffalo the day my semester ended.

I was lonely, scared, angry, and sad. I had lost friends, and a family member.

Upon returning home, I had learned that my father had lost his job. This crushed me, and I began to self-harm again. I attended school virtually the following semester, and then I transferred back to a local school.

Things were much tougher, which lead to my anxiety spiking to all-time highs. Eventually, I went back to therapy, and I have been dealing with my mental illnesses ever since.

I also started to have horrible body perception issues after leaving Florida, and still continue to do. I go to the gym now every day. I'm told I look great; however, I still see the same fat kid in the mirror every single day.

Now here today arises. Instead of being a year and a half clean from self-harm, I am only two days clean.

My dog passed two days ago. He was my soul, my best friend.

I've also been going back to church quite frequently as I am again struggling to accept my identity, and I feel so lost in regard to my sexuality. I hear that what I feel is wrong, and that I am able to control my urges, yet I feel like I am going to explode if I don't express my true identity.

This all has coalesced in yet again me trying to kill myself two days ago and slitting my wrists. I am no longer feeling like I want to end my life, but I am still so lost and depressed. I feel like the weight of a million suns are pushing down on my chest, while I gasp for a breath.

I have actively been trying to hide my left wrist, but it's hard to do that especially when you live with parents who worry as much as mine do about my well-being.

I also was sending pictures of myself to people I had met on various dating apps. I hated doing that, but my past relationships with people had made me feel like I had to do that to get a boy's attention, and that is the only way I'd be wanted. I hated degrading myself, but I thought I wasn't worth anything to begin with.

This is ultimately what lead me back to church; where I have only felt more confused.

I haven't had sex in nearly two-and-a-half-years now, and I quit self-pleasure. I feel hopeless when it come to love. I feel like I'll never find 'the one', like they always say in TV.

But that all could change.

I have been hanging around this boy. He is in a class of mine. I actually think he may be gay too, and that's not just wishful thinking.

His name is Jacob, and he is just like me.

He loves engineering, and he is passionate about it like me. He is so easy to have and hold a conversation with. He is so smart, and funny.

He is gorgeous too. He has sandy hair and brown eyes. Kind of lanky, but in a cute way. His smile beams like the Las Vegas Strip, and he is so handsome. He has great style.

His scent is what really gets me. I am not sure what cologne he wears, but he smells like the breeze coming off the warm Mediterranean. I desperately want to steal one of his sweatshirts, and just wear it. I want to be surrounded by his aroma. I am usually allergic to such perfumes, but his is so ambrosial.

He looks so cuddly and cozy now that it is winter. He dresses in sweats or jeans, but he wears a big heavy parka every day to school.

Hearing his voice makes me want to jump into his arms. It is so melodic, and deep.

His lips... his lips are so plump and red, like a ripe Gala apple. I want to kiss them so bad. I want to taste his saliva, and caress his face, as he holds me.

But I don't know if he feels the same.

I think I have a crush.

~ Finn

[killemwithkawaii]

Okay, so, I sometimes ageregress and I think Sal would too tbh. If you don't know what ageregressing is, it's basically age play without the sexual undertones (dressing up, being in the mindset of a child, having childish interest but more like an episode, you are still a functioning adult). Since Sal didn't get to be a child for that long because of the accident and bullying he could be a child with me as an adult fbjsicjsjsj

It would be so adorable to see him play with action figures or having tea parties with his s/o and plushies TvT

And Larry would be probably really chill about that too. Just imagine lil Sal talking really excitedly about his favorite color and Larry being like: "Woah, dude, that's so sick. Blue n pink really are special my guy"

It would be so adorable drzhdgjg >v<

I've actually answered an ask about Sal being an age regressor! Here's some more headcannons about it:

Sal as an age regressor-

[CW: SFW age regression/ little space, mentions of past trauma and abuse]

>This is likely something Sals therapist recommended when medication wasn't quite cutting it for him. Now that Sal's an adult and has the power and competence to make his own decisions, age regression could be a way for him to reclaim that part of his life where he was put into bad situations and didn't have any sort of control over how things turned out. He can use it as a tool to try and experience some of the childhood joy that was robbed of him when he was actually a kid in a safe and comfortable setting, free of grief, trauma, bullying, hospital stays, and adults with substance abuse problems.

>I'd expect him to regress to around the age he was when he got his injury to a few years older (a general range, probably not a specific age).

>It would probably be really hard for him to get into the mindset. Letting down his guard and forgetting about his self-consciousness and personal baggage takes a lot of practice, plus acting like a kid can dig up some bad memories by association. Most of the time, he half-regresses- not too big to relax and enjoy himself, but not too small to defend himself and snap back to being 'big' if need-be.

>He'd be EXTREMELY hesitant to let anybody know about his age regression or see him regressing, let alone be his caretaker, because it's such a vulnerable mindset to be in (he got enough shit when he was actually a kid, he doesn't need anybody judging him for acting childlike on top of all the other stuff people judge him for as an adult). Gizmo is the one exception, since he's been a major source of comfort for Sal since he was an actual child.

>A fellow age regressor would have better luck catching a glimpse of Sals 'little' side. He'd love to have someone to hang out with that likes video games and cartoons as much as he does!

>His friends DO find out (because he's a horrible liar). Larry finds the concept a little weird at first (because he was always encouraged to 'grow up'/ 'be a man'/ etc.), but totally gets it when he and Sal go to catch frogs at the lake or do some finger painting together and he sees Sal let loose like never before. Ash takes it in stride (it feels just like when she and her little brother were kids) and loves Sals genuine enthusiasm for doing craft projects with her and playing out dramatic storylines with her 'little dudes'. Todd goes down a rabbit hole researching the phycological mechanisms behind age regression and its applications in therapy, and is happy that Sal is using healthy coping mechanisms in tandem with his medication to help improve his mental health (he also gives Sal all the computer games that his parents gave him as a kid).

Also:

Me 🤝 Sal "Pink and blue are the best colors (we'll be in our blanket fort if you wanna fight us about it)"

[atlabeth]

nightmares - mike munroe x reader

summary: It was a deal made by two almost-friends in the early hours of the morning after the worst night of their lives, when they realized that all they really had left was each other.

a/n: so this is once again. not my normal content but ive been on an until dawn kick lately and fell in love w the characters all over again. i dont know if anyone still reads or writes for this fandom but. here u go. enjoy

warning(s): lots of cursing, canon typical violence, mentions of graphic violence/death (but nothing too descriptive), mentioned depression, insomnia, and alcoholism, some heavy themes but its hurt/comfort so it ends in fluff

wc: 4.8k

You were running.

You were running, and it was freezing — fuck, it was freezing.

You knew your surroundings; how could you ever forget? Every fucking moment on the goddamn mountain was engraved into your mind for what you assumed would be the rest of your life, an assumption that had since been proven correct.

And now, against your will, you were back. Of course you were back.

A shudder ran through your whole body as that all-too-familiar screech rang out behind you, each second of it like nails on a chalkboard in the worst way. Your lungs burned like all hell but you couldn’t stop — if you stopped, you were as good as dead.

Some part of this fucked up thing was almost funny. Humans were always boasting about how they were the top of the food chain, how they were the height of evolution. There was nothing to keep an ego in check like being hunted by a supernatural creature.

Any thoughts of bullshit philosophy were dashed from your mind as you took a hard right, nearly falling over from the sharp curve of the mountain but just able to catch yourself. Your heart was thundering in your chest, the beats nearly lining up with your sprinting. You felt an intense urge to turn around, try and gauge your chances, but the thought of slowing down for even a second terrified you. It’s not like you needed to anyways — you knew exactly what was after you.

You were nearing the end of your road, both literally and figuratively. You stumbled over a tree root, your hands splayed out in front of yourself at just the right angle to keep your momentum going and, in some feat of luck, stay upright and running.

But your luck had just run out.

Your senses were proven correct as the harrowing cliff edge came into view, and a thousand things screamed in your mind at once as your demise stared you right in the eye. You barely managed to catch yourself, very much aware that the snow falling into the void could’ve just as well been you.

That fucking screech again, even closer than before, and you whipped around as you took an instinctive step back. Your hands patted around everywhere, searching for something to defend yourself, but you had nothing. No gun, knife, even the ground around you was devoid of rocks.

You had nothing. You had nothing to defend yourself from this goddamn nightmare creature, and you were going to die.

Your eyes darted around wildly in an attempt to find something, anything, to save yourself, but there was nothing. You took another step back and felt your foot slip, your breath catching as you barely managed to save yourself with a twist and a lunge away from the edge. The shock of the ground and the cold against your skin was just enough to remind yourself that you were actually alive. Another pile of snow mimicked the fate that seemed imminent as it trickled over the side of the cliff, and you screwed your eyes shut as you tried to shut your mind up.

Think, goddammit, if you wanted to get off of this fucking mountain you had to think—

The screech that pierced through the night sky was far too close for comfort, and as your head snapped back towards the woods you swore that your heart stopped beating.

It had caught up. You were out of time you were going to die but you didn’t have anything and you were going to fucking die—

A flash of white pushed off a tree and lunged towards you, teeth bared as it emitted that horrible screech. You didn’t even have time to scream, completely frozen in place as one clawed hand reached your neck, and you braced for the moment of release.

You shot up in your bed, breathing rapid and unsteady with a barely contained cry on the edge of your lips as your hand instinctively flew to your neck. You heaved an almost strangled sigh of relief to know that your head was still attached to your body (it might’ve seemed obvious, but… your head wasn’t exactly on straight at the moment, all jokes aside) and collapsed against the headboard.

You ran your hands across your face as you tried in vain to calm yourself down, ultimately having to turn on your lamp to ease your troubled mind that there was nothing going thump in the night.

It had been this same routine almost every night — horrible nightmare, wake up crying or screaming or both, and start the day at 3 am because you couldn’t fall back asleep.

It was exhausting. You were exhausted.

You knew you couldn’t go on like this, but what choice did you have? Therapy had been mandated by the police for a certain amount of time after the incident, but… it’s not like it had helped. How could it, when no one truly knew what you had gone through?

Well… that wasn’t completely accurate.

One person knew what you were going through, and you hadn’t said as much as one word to him since that night. You didn’t really… know what to say.

Hey. I know we’re not all that close, but I’m sorry your girlfriend and all your friends were killed by a Wendigo and that I made it instead. Hope you’re not going insane with grief. I’ll send you a card at Christmas!

...yeah. You had no idea what to say to him after months of no contact.

The relationship you had with Mike Munroe was a strange one, to say the least.

None of you were the same after that night on the mountain. The horrors of the mines would be forever entrenched in your head, flashes of the Wendigos appearing every time you closed your eyes. You and Mike were the only ones who made it off, and the guilt you carried everywhere was a burden you knew you couldn’t shoulder. And even after the physical scars had faded, you knew the mental ones never would.

Sometimes you wondered how you had even managed to get involved with the group in the first place — bonds that had been made in your freshman and sophomore years had somehow managed to stay strong enough throughout the rest of high school, strong enough to cement your spot in the friend group and the yearly lodge visits. You liked them all well enough, enough to go up to an isolated mountain with them for a weekend or so, but… yeah. Sometimes you did wonder what the hell you were doing with them.

But now?

Now, you would give almost anything to hear Sam’s laugh or one of her compliments, or tease Ashley and Chris about their very obvious feelings; hell, you found yourself missing Matt’s useless football facts. And even though Emily and Jessica weren’t always the nicest, you still had managed to worm your way into their hearts. Knowing that you would never get Emily’s brutal but helpful advice or get dragged to a football game by Jessica again?

If someone had told you the difference between life-long trauma and a completely normal existence was that blonde girl with the braids in your biology class, you might’ve thought a little harder before accepting that party invite.

The days after you were rescued from the mountain passed in a daze, questions and interrogations from police never sticking for too long. And it didn’t even feel like it mattered, the way none of them seemed to believe you.

They kept you separated from Mike throughout the whole process, and you were only able to catch glances of him when you were being transferred to different rooms throughout the long process. It really was like something out of a horror movie — a group of teens go up to a lodge in the woods, and only two return with a story of unspeakable horrors — and rather than try and work out what had happened, they seemed intent on pinning the deaths on you and Mike.

As if you weren’t dealing with enough after watching your friends get murdered by the monster of another friend, the people that were supposed to be helping you were instead trying to charge you with them. If it wasn’t so fucking infuriating, it would’ve been laughable.

The worst part? You could hardly blame them.

When you took a second to listen to yourself, to what you were spouting to the police, you sounded insane. If you hadn’t witnessed it all first hand, you wouldn’t have believed yourself.

You told them to go down to the mines. That the thing that killed your friends would be down there, and they could see it for themselves.

You didn’t know if that was the right choice. Hell, you might’ve been sending those cops to their deaths. But it was the only way you could think of to get them to believe you.

(You doubted they would go down there anyways. What was the word of two crazy college kids over actual logic? Not much, you imagined.)

You were in that damn interrogation room for what felt like forever until you were finally taken to a hospital to get your wounds treated. But even in the hospital bed, police were by your side asking about what happened every day of your stay. After your discharge, you were forced into custody until they got information that they deemed satisfactory.

By some miracle, you and Mike weren’t charged with anything. The news might’ve gotten hold of your story, but you didn’t know. You didn’t want to know. You didn’t ever look at the news after the tragedy, too afraid that you would see the smiling faces of your friends staring back at you, or pictures of you and Mike with news anchors trying to talk about how involved the two of you were.

If there was one thing worse than going through hell, it was other people trying to make a profit off of your spiral.

Your friends’ families offered their condolences, but not much else. You didn’t hold it against them. Your survivor’s guilt was strong enough to know exactly why they didn’t reach out further.

(You blame yourself for their deaths, after all. Why wouldn’t they?)

It was the same situation with Mike.

Maybe you had purposefully drifted apart from him, trying to build up walls of your own so that he wouldn’t be able to spring it on you first. You assumed he hated you after what had happened, and he had every right to. You might’ve helped each other through the night, but you had no other option. Now, everyone else but you was dead — people he cared about more than you — and you just couldn’t face that.

But as you stared at yourself in your bathroom mirror, you realized that you might have to.

You looked awful.

Weeks of sleepless nights were catching up to you, appearing in the form of

hollow eyes and dark circles, along with a slight discoloration of your skin. The scars from the mountain had mostly healed, but there was a particularly nasty gash on your cheek that was still showing — it wasn’t doing you any favors in the ‘looking completely normal and sane and not severely sleep deprived’ department.

You splashed some water in your face to try and wake up a bit, but the slight drowsiness that followed you everywhere seemed to be a permanent part of you now.

(It was almost funny, in a way. You were so paranoid and alert all the time, unable to fall asleep, and yet it was all you could think about in moments like these. You wondered when irony had become such a staple in your life.)

You had tried talking to therapists, your friends, your family, even searching the internet for advice on what to do after a life changing traumatic event. Nothing had worked.

The simplest solution had come to mind more than once, but you had pushed it aside with the determination to work through this on your own. But now, staring at yourself and seeing how much you had deteriorated…

You had to go talk to the only person who would understand.

~

You had considered turning around more than once on the drive over.

Because, really, what the hell were you doing? Showing up at his doorstep in the middle of o dark thirty because— because what?

Because you had a nightmare?

He had gone through the same thing you had, probably even worse. Losing Jessica right in front of him, having to cut off his fingers to get free, spending countless hours alone, dealing with the nightmare that was the sanatorium, and then…

Well, you had been in the mines with him and Josh when it happened. There was no doubt in your mind that the scene replayed in his head endlessly, just like it did for you.

Showing up… it was going to be a mistake. You knew it was.

For all you knew, Mike had moved on already. He was stronger than you, he always had been. Maybe your presence would send him spiraling once more, or maybe it would just earn you a verbal beating like no other. Mike had always been nice enough, but the trauma you had endured was enough to turn a saint into his own worst enemy.

You didn’t know what would happen. You didn’t know anything, and as you turned down his street you regretted more than ever not keeping in touch with him. Maybe then you wouldn’t be in this situation, scrambling after your last hope for salvation after slowly killing yourself over the past few months.

But there was no chance to turn back now, because before you knew it your knuckles were rapping against his front door.

The pause between your arrival and a response was so long that you considered leaving and pretending like this never happened, but just as you began to step back the door swung open.

You didn’t really know what you were expecting, but… he was there. The only other testament to the horrors of Blackwood Pines, and maybe the only person that could help you through this.

“...hi,” you murmured, swallowing the sudden lump in your throat as you looked the personification of your shame in the eye.

Mike blinked a few times, whether to try and wake up a little or out of surprise from his visitor you didn’t know, but it was a few seconds before he responded in kind. “...hey. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you around.”

You chuckled dryly as you nodded. “Yeah. Sorry for the sudden arrival. I’m, uh… I’m kind of surprised you even opened the door.”

He huffed out a short breath in a facsimile of a laugh. “Not getting much sleep these days.”

“That’s something we’ve got in common.” You crossed your arms across your chest and let out a loose sigh, eyes wandering around in an attempt to think of what to say next. It should’ve been so easy, but… but for some reason, it just wasn’t.

“Guess so.” That awkward silence stretched out once more, neither of you knowing how to fill it. Thankfully, Mike continued to take the plunge, but it wasn’t without a slight barb. “What are you doing here?”

“I—” you stopped just as you had begun, because you really didn’t know. You had come here for help, but could Mike really do that for you? He was the same as you — a fucked up teenager trying to deal with something so far beyond him.

“I don’t know,” you admitted as you made eye contact once more. “I… I really don’t know. I’m out of options, and… I can’t keep going like this. So I came here to talk, or— or to try and get some help. I don’t know.”

That same silence filled the air once more, the night ambiance the only thing in between the two of you. You missed when that silence used to be comfortable, but… you could only blame yourself for it.

“So— so, what?” he asked, the beginnings of a frown starting to crease his brows. “You just— we go through all that together up there, and then when we get back down you don’t say a word for months. And now— now, out of nowhere, in the middle of the night, you just show up and ask for help?”

“God,” you muttered. When he put it that way, it was true. It was ridiculous, to expect his help after the way you had just left him to deal with it all on his own for a reason borne of your own insecurity. “You’re right. This was— this was stupid. I’m sorry.”

You had already turned to go when you felt a calloused hand on your shoulder, causing you to stop in your tracks.

“No.” His voice was surprisingly soft as he sighed, stepping back with a shake of his head to make room in the doorway. “No, I—” Mike paused for a moment, as if he couldn’t find the right words to say. “I’m sorry. You can come in. Obviously, you can come in.”

Your eyes widened slightly as you tried to hide your shock at the gesture, but you weren’t about to turn it down. You nodded, and he stepped aside to make space for you to walk in. When you did, you were met with a mess not unlike the one back at your apartment, save for the beer bottles. Clothes were strewn about haphazardly on every surface, so you took a seat on a clean spot on the floor, leaning back against a chair and pulling your knees up to your chest. You actually preferred it this way — it was grounding, in a literal sense. Mike pushed aside a laundry basket and did the same, but pulled one leg up and let the other lay extended.

“Why?” he asked suddenly, breaking the silence that had been accumulating once more. “Why did you just…” he gestured around with his hands to try and get his point across but ultimately settled with a sigh. “You didn’t say anything. You didn’t try to text, or call, or write, or— or anything. Hell, I would’ve probably jumped to get a messenger pigeon from you. But it was just… radio silence.”

You picked at the dry skin on your thumbs as you tried to come up with an answer. “I… I don’t know,” you repeated. “It was stupid, and it was horrible of me to leave you alone. I mean… I don’t know why I did it. I know what I’ve been going through, and I know you’ve been going through the same. So I don’t know why I didn’t try to reach out and see how you were doing.”

He chuckled mirthlessly as his eyes swept over the empty bottles that had accumulated on the coffee table. “I’m not the best with alone.”

“I know,” you said quietly. “I thought…” you shook your head as you looked at the ceiling. “I thought that you hated me. I know that you cared about them all more, you were closer to all of them, and… and I thought you wouldn’t want anything to do with me. That I would just always be a reminder of what you lost. And… and, I don’t know. Maybe it was my way of trying to move on. Was a stupid fucking idea, though.”

That got a genuine laugh out of him as he ran a hand through his hair. “I guess I get that. I dunno why I didn’t try to talk to you either. Maybe since you didn’t say anything, I didn’t want to either. This whole thing fucked me up.” His gaze moved to you. “Fucked us both up.”

“You can say that again,” you muttered as you tapped your fingers on your knees. “I can’t look anywhere without seeing them. I mean, I see that fucking…” you grimaced. “I see Josh, and I see what that thing did to him, and I just— I’m right back to step one.”

He swallowed hard and nodded. “...yeah. That was seven layers of fucked up.”

“You can’t just keep saying everything was fucked up,” you said dryly. “It was shitty, too.”

Mike snorted, some kind of slightly masochistic humor going on between the two of you. “Nothing really gets the point across like fucked up.”

“Guess you’re right,” you finally conceded with a small smile. “This is… this is nice. I’d almost forgotten what it was like to… I don’t know, to talk to someone like this.”

“It is,” he murmured.

Another pregnant pause hung in the air, but the silence wasn’t as uncomfortable now. Trickles of what it used to be like, of your old life, were beginning to poke through.

“I never hated you,” he said suddenly. Your eyes flicked up to meet his, and it was like his brown eyes were piercing through you as he continued. “I never did. After it happened… yeah, I was mad. I was fucking pissed, but it was never at you. You were my friend too, y’know? Even though we weren’t that close, we were still… we were still something. And I’m glad you made it. I just wish you hadn’t convinced yourself that you had to go through this alone. Maybe things would’ve turned out different, these past few months. For both of us.”

You nodded, choosing to avert eye contact first because you almost couldn’t handle the sincerity. Your heart sank a bit at the sight of all the beer bottles, and you knew that he was right. Maybe things would’ve been different if the two of you had weathered it together from the start. And so you said that.

“I still can’t help but feel like I’m to blame for—” you gestured around at the mess with a sigh, “for this.”

“Look.” His voice was raspy as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair, and as he met your eyes once more you were able to see how truly exhausted he was. With dark circles that matched your own, scars that were still healing, and a certain hollowness behind his eyes… It was like looking in a mirror. And it made you realize how fucked up the two of you had really become.

Mike had always been good at holding himself together, putting up his signature egotistical-douchebag-jock act in the face of anything that threatened to tear him down, and more often than not he came out victorious. But not even class presidents were immune to the horrors that they had faced, and it was taking more of a toll on him than you had realized.

“It’s not your fault. You— you did everything you could; I know I’m still alive because of you. Besides, we were idiot teenagers — we still are — and none of them deserved to die because of it. Not Hannah, not Beth, not any of them.” Mike shook his head and sighed. “Not even Josh. Man was fucked up even before all of this, but he didn’t deserve what happened to him. He needed help, but instead he got his fucking… god. I can’t even say it. But he didn’t deserve it.”

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, the subconscious process having stopped because of the weight of his words. It was cliche, but you didn’t know how much you needed to hear those four words: it’s not your fault.

“Maybe you should be my therapist,” you joked weakly. But as you let your eyes trail back to Mike you bit your lip. He hadn’t included himself in that statement, and it wasn’t too hard to figure out why.

“Mike… it wasn’t your fault either. You’re not just saying bullshit to try and make yourself feel better, it really wasn’t your fault. What do they say? ‘Getting through your guilt is the first step to recovery’ or some shit? You deserve to be here just as much as I do.”

“But it was,” he insisted. “It’s easy for you to say that. You tried to stop it, I… I just went along with it. Fuck, I started it all. Hannah and Beth went missing because of me, Josh went out of his fuckin’ mind, and if he hadn’t brought us all back up there for his revenge plot then they wouldn’t have died. How is it not my fault? Why do I get to live when all of them died because of me?”

“Mike,” you sighed. “I… I don’t know. I don’t know why we made it back when none of them did, but it’s not your fucking fault, okay? You— yeah, that prank was fucking stupid, but— but how could you know what was going to happen?” You huffed a laugh that was only slightly unhinged. “People pull pranks all the time. Native American legend cannibal spirit things don’t try to kill people all the time. You can’t keep blaming yourself. It’s not going to help them, and it’s not going to help you.”

That silence stretched out once more as he took in your words. You didn’t know if he believed them or not, but you did. That had to be worth something, right?

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” he muttered, breaking the silence once more. “And I… I don’t know. I don’t know why it took almost fucking dying from those goddamn things, a— and seeing what happened to all of them...”

“I don’t know,” he repeated, leaning back against the foot of the sofa. “All the shit that happened, all of them dying — I don’t know how long it’ll take until we’re okay again. Hell, I don’t even know if we ever will be okay again. What happened up there was fucked up in the worst way, and the fact that no one believes us makes it a hell of a lot worse.”

You chuckled darkly as you cupped one hand in the other. “You can say that again.”

His lips twitched for a moment as if he wanted to smile but ultimately thought better of it. “I know we aren’t that close anymore, but the truth is we’re the only ones on this fuckin’ planet that know what really happened up there. We’re the only ones that will ever really understand what happened to us, and… and I think we’re the only ones that can really help each other through this shit.”

He met your eyes once more, something resolute in them. “So the next time this happens, because it will, if you don’t want to be alone… you can come here. Any time, any day, no questions asked. Just knock on that door, and I will be there. No more isolation, no more trying to get through this on our own. We gotta be there for each other, because we’re all we have.”

You nodded gratefully, a feeling of warmth slowly creeping through your body with his reassurance. “Thank you, Mike. You… you have no idea what this means to me.”

“I think I have some clue,” he murmured.

As you exchanged weary smiles, you saw a faint twinkle in Mike’s eyes. He was always the kind of person to help others, even if it was for the wrong reasons, and that was one thing that stuck with him after the disaster. And in that moment, a long lost feeling washed over you — safety.

You hadn’t felt safe in… well, it seemed like forever. Adrenaline and pure instinct were responsible for getting you through those twelve hours, along with an overwhelming wave of numbness and denial. But once all of that wore off, the nightmares had begun. Your friends, the Wendigos, the mountain itself — anything and everything that your mind could use against you, it did.

It was a living hell. You could hardly ever sleep anymore, horrific images always jolting you awake after an hour or two and keeping you awake for the rest of the day. It was no wonder Mike had ended up with a drinking problem — it was probably the only way he could sleep, the only way he could bring some form of peace to his mind. By some miracle, you had avoided that fate, but… you would be lying if you said you hadn’t come close.

But somehow, for some reason, you could tell that things were going to be different. Now that you and Mike weren’t avoiding each other anymore in the name of painful memories… you felt like things were going to be okay. Or as close to okay as you could get these days.

You weren’t alone, and neither was he.

He had saved your life on the mountain more than once. Now, he was saving you again. Just in a different way.

-

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77

ud tags: @kwyloz