#in fact i've been feeling kind of nauseous all day

[raven--stag]

IT'S MADANCY REUNION DAY ARE WE READYYYYY

[draco-dormiens]

THE STRANGEST OF PLACES - Chapter Twenty One

draco x fem!ravenclaw reader / postwar au series

an: happy new year guys ♡ your kindness and patience has been very much appreciated. i hope your holidays have been wonderful, if you have celebrated :)

warnings: possible strong language, angst, unrequited love, alcohol use (characters are 18+)

wc: 4194

masterlist

taglist is now closed - i’ve officially run out of tags! thank you all

The Greengrasses Come to Tea

Days pass by rather quickly when you're miserable as sin and dreading a certain something.

Another letter from Narcissa arrived the day before the dinner was planned to go ahead. In her letter she had explained, in thorough detail, exactly how she expects the evening to go, exactly how she expects Draco to behave, and exactly when to get down on one knee.

It was so calculated Draco felt like he was reading an instruction booklet.

Nothing much had changed, apart from the fact Granger's visit did nothing but play reruns in his mind. He was pretty certain you had no idea she'd come down to see him, otherwise she wouldn't have been there. The information she gave to him had scenarios playing out in his head. What would happen if he did show up? Would you be happy? Mad? Would you kiss him, slap him, or just tell him to get the hell away from you? He likes to think you'd run into his arms, but after how foul he was, he wouldn't blame you for breaking a piece of your mind. It's not too late, Granger said.

Can he really fix this mess? Would you really love him despite his cowardice, despite him making all the wrong decisions and leaving you no choice but to turn away. Could you find it in you to forgive him?

Over the last few weeks, as you've been avoiding each other like the plague, he's come to see that he never even tried to fight for you. Never once did he prepare himself to stand up to his parents. That's not to say he hadn't thought of it, because he most certainly had, but the bravery he would need escaped him. No wonder you're finished with him, he'd once again allowed himself to be pushed along the road by someone else. You were far too good for someone like him anyway, he tells himself. Someone else out there will have the guts he doesn't possess, and fight for you, just how he should have done. With only a day left until he was made to give his life away, Draco's patience was running very thin, and even someone being within his proximity irritated him, but Astoria seemed to be oblivious to this and invaded his space regardless. He held his tongue, because he's about to spend every waking moment with the girl, but in his mind he was thinking of several ways he could disappear without anyone knowing.

"Beautiful afternoon," Astoria sighs, once again trying to brush her hand against his as they walked along the edge of the lake, "don't you think, Draco?"

He retracts his hand into his pocket. Astoria was a fan of walks, and since the engagement was settled to happen, and you were out of the picture, she'd been asking him to join her most days. Draco, feeling like, somehow, his mother was watching his every move, agreed, but hated every second of being away from his dorm room. From the corner of his eye, he could see her growing impatient with his inability to reciprocate her efforts.

"It's nice," he mutters, "always liked the lake."

"As I've heard," she smiles across at him, "didn't you befriend the giant squid in your younger years?"

Draco chuckles lightly.

"The squid is harmless, and actually enjoys the company of many students," he explains, "I'm not special, I'm afraid."

"I think you are," she compliments, and he can't help but feel a little nauseous. It's so wrong that this girls feelings are being wasted on him, "even if the squid doesn't."

Draco only smiles thinly.

"Thanks," he answers quickly. He feels her getting closer, her arm brushing his. He knows he must show some sort of willingness if this was to work, so he gestures for her to loop her arm around his. She does so in a heartbeat, and leans into him.

"So," she begins, sounding a little cautious, "you and your friend are still not speaking?"

Once the incident in the woods happened, Draco returned to the Slytherin common room looking worse than ever. His hair was a mess, his face was pale and his eyes puffy. Astoria, because why would anything be in his favour, happened to be reading in the common room when he entered looking like that. She rushed to him, of course, fussed about how upset he looked and sat him down, rubbing his arm. Draco felt so numb he didn't even feel her presence beside him, or really hear what she was saying. That's when he mumbled, staring into the fire;

"It's over. We're done."

Astoria knew in that moment, within a day, you had held your end of the bargain. It was perhaps cruel, but she felt a weight lift off her shoulders. He never questioned her about approaching you, he simply didn't have the energy for an argument. You knew, and you'd made your decision. Maybe, in some sick way, it was a blessing he didn't have to be the one to do it. He wasn't sure he could.

Draco refuses to speak about you, and Astoria knows this, but asks, in a roundabout way, if he's been reckless and gone back to you. Each time she asks, he feels his heart snap all over again, and forces out an answer that pleases his future wife.

"No," he answers shortly, and Astoria says no more on the matter. She only nods.

"Have you thought about what you might do after school?" she changes the subject as they stop at the water's edge. Gentle, little waves roll up the shore and crash by their feet, "I'm sure your exam results will be good."

"Hopefully," he says, his voice as empty as always, "the Ministry, maybe. Or something in medicine. Haven't decided yet."

"You'll be great, no matter what you do," she said, looking up at him with longing eyes. He looks back at her, another guilty feeling taking over him, "you're wonderful, Draco."

From the way she's looking at him, he knows what the girl is asking. It's not the first time she's looked at him that way, either. She wants him to kiss her. To show her that this decision is the right one, and that she's worthy. God, he feels like a criminal. He moves his head to look over the water, but Astoria's hand brings his gaze back to her. The look in her face tells him her patience is running rather thin, too.

"Draco," she whispers to him, fingers tracing his jaw. The only touch he can feel is yours, "you know we have to at some point, right? And tomorrow, they'll expect it."

He feels like he's being unfaithful. Her eyes are screaming it, asking him to lean in and take her as his wife. To accept her. Draco feels lightheaded, like he might pass out at any minute, when she's gently pulling him down to her level. Her lips almost brush his when Draco puts his hand on her wrist lightly, stopping all her movements.

"I can't," he whispers hoarsely, and Astoria's face drops, "I'm sorry, 'Storia. I can't kiss you."

"Because of her," Astoria mutters almost bitterly.

This was affecting her, too. He knew that, and just how unfair his behaviour must seem to her.

"I can't help it," he takes in a shaky breath, "I'm still... I'm not over it yet. I understand it's not what you want to hear, and I'm deeply sorry for that. I just... I- I need time."

She nods, and remains close, but she doesn't pressure him anymore. He can see, that even she is doubting his ability to see this through. He tries to move away, but she holds on to him. She needs someone right now, so they stay like that for a while. It was the least he could do for her, offer some comfort, so he rubs her back soothingly and she leans into him. From the corner of his eye, he sees two figures approaching them from a far. He focuses his eyes to see who it was, and his heart drops to the very pit of his stomach.

It's Granger, and you.

Astoria rests her head against his chest, unaware of their company. All he can do is stare back at you, and Granger tugs the arm of your sweater. Without taking your eyes from his, the two of you double back, and walk in the opposite direction. Once you've processed the image before you, you're turning away, rushing before Granger as she picks up pace to walk beside you. If he was feeling any kind of guilt, he was feeling worse than ever now.

"On the one day I convince you to actually come outside," Hermione huffs and puffs as she tries to keep up with your incredibly quick pace, "I can't believe it. I really can't."

"It's fine," you mumble miserably, quickening your pace to get as far away as possible, "this is mostly my doing, anyway."

"There you go again, blaming yourself," Hermione pants, "he's no saint in this, you know. He's just as responsible."

"That somehow doesn't help," you said, now marching back towards the castle, "this feeling... it doesn't make it go away. Ever. The guilt."

"After this weekend, you'll never have to see them again," said Hermione, desperately trying to keep up with you, "and I know that sounds awful, but being away from him, from this school, and the ever growing fear of running into them, might be what you need."

You stop at the edge of the school grounds, Hermione coming to a halt behind you. Hogwarts looked gloomy, even under the midsummer sun. Even in the hazy afternoon sunshine, in the warm and sweet air, it seemed miserable. Graduation was approaching quick and fast. Families and guests of the school will be arriving over the next couple of days, readying for a day of celebration when Saturday rolls around. There was nothing more sickening than that thought right now. Your mother had owled over freshly pressed robes and presents from family members. Flowers, cards, chocolates. Happy little messages and congratulations.

Shame you can't seem to enjoy such a pivotal time.

"Someone up there hates me," you mumble, and Hermione's hand rests against your shoulder.

"Well, someone down here doesn't," she says kindly, and you turn to face her, etching a smile across your solemn face, "and no one at the dinner tomorrow does. In fact, Ron owled me to say how excited he was to see you. I'm sure it's the same for everyone else, too. You're not alone, Y/N. There are so many people who wish you happiness."

"Thanks, 'Mione," you mutter softly, and then look back up at the towering heights of the castle as Hermione starts to walk ahead of you. A gentle breeze ruffles your hair, as two birds soar across the sky to disappear behind a tower. You take a deep breath, and exhale slowly, before whispering to yourself, "in another life, Draco. In another life."

The day breaks into blistering sunshine and clear blue skies. Friday morning greeted the grounds of Malfoy manor with the sound of whistling birds and fresh, crisp air. The flowers were in bloom; brilliant shades of red, pink and yellow. Rather a contrast to the glooming building in the distance. Watering cans, seemingly moving by themselves, sprinkled water over the petals and the neatly trimmed shrubbery as they danced across the gardens. The dark and dreary exterior of his childhood home looked evermore depressing as Draco stood just beyond the gates, gathering the will to enter the front door. Just inside, no doubt, his mother was ordering the house elf to fold napkins and polish cutlery. His father, he presumes, would be tucked away in his study, out of the way and minding his own business. He expects his mother has arranged more house elves to prepare the dining room for what some might say is a wondrous occasion.

Her son was getting engaged, after all. To the woman she had desired, no less.

Draco drags himself to the front door, and with a small flick of his hand, the large piece of oak begins to scrape along the tiled floor, revealing the foyer. His mother had freshly picked flowers decorating the entryway and lined along the corridors. The giant windows cast gorgeous rays of gold into the dark hallways, specs of dust floating in the light as he made his way towards his room. He could at least get a little bit of time alone before the dreaded dinner.

Or, at least, he thought he could.

"Draco," he hears his mother's voice call from the other end of the hallway, hand clasped around the handle of his bedroom door, "I had no idea you were here," Narcissa said as she crosses the space between them, "Why are you hiding in there? Are you feeling well?"

She presses her palm to his forehead, looks at his throat as she instructs him to say ah, darling, and feels under his jaw. With a perplexed look, she huffs, holding his face in her hands.

"Do you need to lay down? You look pale, sweetheart. Is everything alright? Is it nerves?"

Her eyes were kind. When his mother showed her true affection for him, it was oddly warming. Draco knew his mother loved him - that's why he was feeling this pain. That's why she was breaking her back to make sure he became a respectable pureblood, because she knew how it felt to be shunned and whispered about in the street. She knew how it felt to have the world watching as your reputation crashed and burned in a courtroom full of judgmental faces. More than anything, did she want him to avoid that. The less pain he had the better, and yet, because of her divine protection, Draco had never felt so much pain in his life.

"I just need to rest before tonight," he smiles thinly, "please, don't worry yourself."

Narcissa doesn't stop him from turning the handle and disappearing behind the dark wood door. His room came into view; green satin sheets neatly made up on his bed, fresh towels folded at the end and his suit for the evening freshly pressed and hanging from his wardrobe. His belongings were exactly where he had left them; papers on his desk, half read book on the bedside table and his curtains shut. Draco pulls back the long, heavy material from his bedroom window to look down at the grounds below. Glorious sunshine. Water fountain gently trickling in the middle of the maze that was his back garden. A few house elves were trimming the hedges. It's a shame really, because when you were a guest in his house, it was near freezing and covered in thick white snow outside. You never got to see the garden in its full glory. He wonders what you're doing now, if you're already at Weasley's house. Surely having a better time that he was...

Right?

"What do you mean you're not coming?"

Hermione bellows over the muggle phone that Mr Weasley has. Her hands were covered in batter, her apron speckled with flour as Ron and George attempt to hang the "Happy Gradation!" bunting over the dining table (Mrs Weasley, in a rush, had forgotten the 'u'.)

"I thought we'd gone over this," Hermione said, leaning to speak into the phone that was sitting on the side, its cord winding back to the holder at the other end of the kitchen, "everyone would love to see you, and you'll enjoy it once you're here."

You hear a kerfuffle in the background. "I said to your right, Ron, that's your left." George's distant voice laughs, as Ron protests "Do you want to try? I'm trying not to stand on the forks." Then a clash and a bang, and George's laughter erupts into hysterics.

"Is everything alright there, 'Mione?" you ask, and she sighs irritably.

"Ron's just fallen off the table," she said nonchalantly, "anyway, back to you. I would really love it if you could make it, Y/N. It might do you good, to get out and be around familiar faces. Besides, we graduate this weekend! We need to celebrate."

"I'm not exactly a joy to be around," you said miserably, "I'd hate to be a buzzkill."

"You won't be!" Hermione reassures you, panicking slightly that if, by some grace of the Gods, Draco decides to take her advice, you won't even be there when he shows, "please, Y/N. Rethink it? You have time, it doesn't start for a few more hours."

"I'll... think on it," you mutter, but Hermione isn't convinced, "please don't think I'm not grateful to you all. What you're doing is lovely and I do want to celebrate with everyone."

"I know," Hermione's kind voice said over the noise; George's roaring laughter and Ron's angry chuntering just audible,"I understand. Just promise me you'll think more about it before making a decision?"

There's a silence, as you stare out of your living room window, a white lie rolling off your tongue.

"Yeah," you breathe, smiling sadly on the other end, "I promise."

Night crawls in like a bad omen, seeping darkness into the unlit parts of the Malfoy's home; lamps and candles now lighting the long hallways, dining hall and main drawing room. The huge windows cast light across the dark grounds, the humid summer heat still hanging in the air. The antique clock on Draco's bedside table ticks, and ticks, and ticks. He fixes his tie one last time. Smooths down his hair, his suit, and takes a long, raggedy breath.

Grangers words still circle his mind.

There was one last chance still lingering, waiting for his hands to grasp it. He took a long hard look in the mirror at his pale complexion, something that never seemed to change about him after all these years. Still pasty, eyes still sharp and greyish blue, hair still thick and fair. The only thing that ever seemed to change about Draco was his age; the rest of him, even his bitterness, never faltered. Although, even those around him were not blind to the way he had softened - despite him always being Malfoy, his hard demeanour and nasty glare weren't as they once were. Something, or someone, rather, had managed to shift him slightly. 

But to Draco, as he looks into the mirror, dressed in his best, all he could see was the same old coward. The same old Malfoy.

"Draco, dear," a loud knock on his door tore his eyes away from the reflection, "they'll be here any minute, I need you down in the foyer to greet them."

"Yes, mother," he calls back, slipping the tiny velvet box on his desk into his pocket and leaving the safety of his bedroom.

The house was filled with the sweet aroma of summer flowers, grown in his mothers flower beds and arranged by the house elf for tonight's festivities. Candles and sconces lit his way, and he entered the main foyer to stand beside the large oak doors that Astoria Greengrass was no doubt about to walk through. He thinks back on Christmas, and how you showed up, in blistering cold and thick snow to bring him a simple box of chocolates. How you both drank the cellar dry and played pool like two giggling school girls. A smile creeps onto his face, just as his mother comes galloping down the staircase in a rush.

"Any moment," she mutters to herself, grabbing Draco's arm to stand beside her, directly opposite the door. One last look over her son, she smooths his tie and gives him a loving look, "so handsome," she whispers, pinching his cheek lightly as he grimaces at the gesture.

Then a loud, almost nautisating bell rings throughout the foyer, and Draco's stomach drops. Narcissa hurries over, and with a flick of her hand, the door scrapes along the tiled floor to reveal Mr and Mrs Greengrass, Daphne Greengrass, and her younger sister, Astoria Greengrass. 

"Ah, how wonderful it is to see you, Mr and Mrs Greengrass, please, do come in." Narcissa graciously moves aside, as Draco extends his hand to Astoria's father, kisses her mother's hand and gives his old classmate Daphne a little bow.

"Daph," he smiles thinly, and she curtsies in return.

"Draco," she greets him kindly, "it's been a while."

"Yeah, just a little," he jokes with a lifeless chuckle, "you look well."

"Thank you," she nudges him on the arm, "and so do you. But, you've always scrubbed up well. Remember the Yule Ball? Gosh, I regret that gigantic pink gown to this day."

The two remenice a little while as Astoria stands at a comfortable distance, watching Draco's every move whilst speaking to her older sister. They laugh about some past memories as young Slytherins, until Daphne finally remembers why she's there.

"Oh, Merlin, listen to me ramble," she says, turning to face her little sister, "I'm sure it's my kid sister you really want to speak to. Right, 'Storia? You've done nothing but talk about Dr-"

"Shut it," Astoria, red cheeked, snapped quietly to her sister, before giving Draco a kind, almost reassuring smile, "good evening, Draco."

"Evening, 'Storia," he reaches out to press a kiss to her hand politely, "you look lovely."

She blushed a furious red, and in true Slytherin fashion, Daphne started chuckling to herself, opening her mouth to comment on her sisters tomato face when the tiny house elf that lived at the Malfoy residence offered to take the ladies coats. A look of relief washed over Astoria, thankful at the interruption. Drinks were poured in the drawing room, Lucius discussing current Ministry affairs with Mr Greengrass as Narcissa gave Mrs Greengrass a very lengthy description of the many portraits on the walls. Astoria excused herself to use the restroom, giving Draco a moment's peace after she talked and talked and talked about her interest in becoming an activist for magical creatures in captivity. As noble as her cause was, Draco was bored to tears. Then the couch dipped down beside him, and he looks up to see Daphne had claimed her sisters spot, a knowing smirk at her lips.

"You're so miserable, do you know that, Malfoy?" She says, swirling sparkling wine in her glass. Draco chokes on his.

"Excuse me?" he coughs, "you do realise you're in my house, drinking my wine as you insult me.”

She laughed. 

"Oh stop being so uptight," she said. Daphne had known Draco for many years, and as a result of that, knew his tell tale signs. She was in his circle of friends, and Pansy stuck herself to Daphne just as much as she did Draco. Her fair share of childhood mischief was done with Draco at her side. Parties and celebrations as children were spent sneaking about their parents houses and making trouble for the guests. All those years had gone now, though, but Daphne was still someone Draco remembered fondly, even if he was marrying her sister unwillingly. But Daphne, unlike her sister, had the qualities of a true Slytherin, and nothing, absolutely nothing, got past her, "you do look bloody miserable. What's wrong? Wait, don't tell me. 'Storia's been talking your ear off about magical creatures rights, hasn't she? Girl's about as interesting as a mop bucket."

Draco can't help but chuckle at that, and Daphne smiles over her glass at her old friend.

"Her hearts in the right place, Daph," Draco then defends the poor girl, who isn't even present to do it herself, "it's just... not for me, that's all."

"Sure enough, but my God, she needs a hobby, Dray," Daphne shakes her head, and the nickname was nice to hear from someone other than Pansy. It had some good memories attached to it, as well, "and so do you, by the sounds of it. All I've heard from 'Storia is how much time you spend in your damn room."

"It's called studying, Daphne," Draco points out, finishing his last drop of wine, "I didn't go back to Hogwarts to just sit around, you know."

"Oh, really?" she says sarcastically, "here's me thinking you just fancied a change in scenery," she sips her drink, noticing Draco's glare from the corner of her eye. "So," she then goes to say, "tell me. Why are you doing this, exactly?"

Draco almost gets whiplash from how quickly he turns his head. 

"What?"

"I asked why you're doing this," Daphne repeats nonchalantly, "you clearly don't want to be here. I'm not saying that my sister isn't a catch, because for the right guy, I'm sure she is, but for you... I guess I thought you'd be against all this arranged marriage nonsense." 

"I am," he mutters bitterly, deciding to stare hard into the fire instead of face Daphne anymore, because, as usual, her observation was off the charts, "but I don't want to disappoint anyone."

"But you're happy to disappoint yourself?"

He swallows thickly. Daphne sips her wine and watches as he squirms under pressure, how he still plays with his fingers when he gets nervous. Then, she shrugs, sighs, and gets up from her seat, "better get ready for dinner. Nice talking, Dray."

As quickly as Daphne left, Astoria reappears, sitting awfully close to Draco as she fills up his glass with wine she had collected along the way. 

"So," she says, sitting back comfortably beside him, "what did I miss?"

disclaimer: i do not own hp or any of the characters in this story

tags:

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[courtingchaos]

Rent the Space Inside My Mind

1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: Man, remember that picture you found? I wonder how you two decide to deal with that little hiccup...

A/N: I've finally come to the realization that this little fic is a labor of love for me. It's my baby so it isn't ever really going to have a real updating schedule. All of that to say, thank you for sticking around and reading you guys! Not a spoiler but just so you know, the end kind of reads like An End, but I have a lot more planned for theses two. This is just like, and end to the pining.

Also, I know others are reading this, but I'm giving a whole shoutout to @fracturedarkness who has been the best cheerleader for me with this story from essentially day one. Literally a ray of sunshine 😘😘😘

(If y'all want a soundtrack at all, just listen to Hozier's Wasteland! Baby. Seriously it's basically all I listened to.)

Warnings: SMUT! There's smut! Halleluiah! 18+ NSFW Minors GTFO

In sixth grade Eddie had caught mono. It was the first serious illness that Wayne had to deal with since taking guardianship four years earlier. Eddie had moaned around the trailer for two weeks, unable to stay awake for more than a few hours at a time. He’d been exhausted and couldn’t swallow right. The fever he’d get at night made him nauseous those first few days and that’s the only thing he can compare this sick twist in his gut to. 

Between the picture clutched in your fingers and the intense look on your face, Eddie thinks he might just turn inside out. 

“Ed?”

It sounds like an accusation in his ears. You’ve found him out, evidence catching the light where it waves around between the two of you. Forget trying to tell you his feelings, he’s got a date with  buckshot later. 

He takes it back actually, this feels the same as the day you accidentally met his dad. The sudden visit on a rare stint between prison stays. The lead weight of fear and sadness and pure fucking rage making him go cold and numb.

Eddie is so tired of shit going wrong in his life. 

“Eddie?” How do you sound so soft when he has clearly screwed up so bad?

Also, he went for one shower after making a stupid mess and you decided to what, go through his shit?

Don’t start 

There’s a black mood he gets in sometimes. It creeps up his insides, stains him dark. It makes him mean and he doesn’t want to be mean, not to you. Not to anyone really. 

He knows on a deeper level this is his fault, it was only a matter of time before you found the picture. Tucked in books and forgotten in his sheets he’s honestly surprised it’s taken this long.  

“Eddie!” The sharpness of his name jerks his head out of the haze he’s in. Sees your eyes clearly and you’re not mad, in fact he thinks that might be a smile hidden under all the confusion. 

“Where did you get this?” Even and calm. Could you lend him some of that? His throat clicks when he tries to swallow. 

“I think uh, I think I took it. On ha-Halloween. Last year.” He doesn’t recognize his own voice, the deep scratch of it. “We were drunk at Hagan’s. I don’t know wh-“

“You took this?” Another wiggle of the polaroid. Your grip on the box of weed is still white knuckled. Okay, maybe that wasn’t a smile. He can’t really tell anymore, the panic settling in firing off all his alarm bells. 

“You weren’t supposed to find it.” He’s so quiet, hasn’t been quiet like this in a long time. Wasn’t even this quiet sneaking into bedrooms. 

You take a step forward and he launches back. Head hits the door frame and if god is real he would let the paneling swallow him whole right now. 

“Why do you have this? Why all the-” you gesture behind you, “why all my shit? You told me you hadn’t seen my Theo figure anywhere and she’s in the drawer with all my shit!” Your voice gets tight, face scrunching up in complete confusion. “I thought I was loosing my stuff but you’re just stealing all of it! My zippo! Eddie what the fuck?!” No, right, there’s the anger. He’s pressed so firmly against the door jam it’s guaranteed to leave marks for a week. You take another step forward and he has nowhere to go, pinned under your scrutiny and words and the waving hand holding his shame. But where your voice was rising in anger, it drops suddenly, slides into something softer. “Why do you have this?”

Yeah Eddie, why do you have it?

It’s a total accumulation of, let’s be real, two years of unrepentant pining. Two years of being a dick and going after easy girls because you were off limits in his own doctrine. Too good a friend to ruin the relationship, and too good a person to ruin with himself. It’s nights spent at the bookstore waiting for you to get off, watching with a burning in his gut as the dipshit college guy you work with tries to edge his way into a date. Blunts and cigarettes shared like kisses between lips he isn’t allowed to taste otherwise. It’s the grappling like two idiots fighting, breathless giggles and rough shoves that end in headlock hugs and usually him tapping out first, unable to stand being in your embrace if it isn’t for keeps. 

“I…” the space in his room is somehow bigger than it’s ever been, leaving him adrift in the chaos of his things and your things and the too thin air that you’re somehow breathing in just fine. There’s a stutter in his chest where he’s not catching his breath, the familiar heat behind his eyes where the tears are trying to rush forward. “It’s just-fuck! It’s such a creep…move I know and I just didn’t want to l-let it go because it was a good night and-and a good picture and your hand…” he’d dropped his eyes to stare at your feet, unable to say his half-assed explanation to your face. “Your hand. On my leg.” Just a whisper. Swings his hand limply toward you. “I just, it was a nice thought.”  His throat is tight and he’s afraid if you keep looking at him he might cry. 

He’s watched you take enough steps forward so you’re practically toe to toe with him. In his peripheral he watches you toss the box behind you onto the bed, your other clutching the evidence lightly taps against his chest and rests there. 

He looks up through his lashes and his hair, keeping his sight obscured like it’ll protect him from whatever you’re about to say. 

“I can’t believe-“ you cut off with a laugh and a shake of your head, that small smile he thought he saw turning back up. “I feel so fucking stupid.”

Eddie’s stomach has disappeared along with the rest of his insides. There’s never been a real foundation of proof for him, just stolen glances he’s caught you in. That lingering look you’d give him, the way you’d hang onto him longer during a hug sometimes. Mostly just blind hope and his own low simmering ego to egg him on. 

“Do you want to know what I did this morning?” He nods, he really does want to know. There’s the smallest drip of warmth trickling down his back with your words. 

“I woke up and I thought about you. First thought of the day.” A deep breath and he can see the pink blooming up out of the collar of his shirt you’re wearing. “I thought about you and I felt so stupid after, for sitting in the dark and pretending that you’d ever-“ You stop yourself again and drop your eyes to stare at your hand on his chest. 

“You thought about me?” He asks and you nod slowly. He’s got an idea about what that might mean. “Do you maybe also have a secret polaroid?”

A break in the tension and you take a step back, laughing. A real one he knows, warm and happy. The photo hits him in the chest where your hand just was, where you’ve just flicked it at him. “How long Eddie?” 

“What?” He grabs for the photo but it flutters to the ground. 

“How long have you liked me?” Your wide eyes and breathless question challenge him. When he doesn’t respond fast enough for you, you reach out and push his bangs away from his face, smoothing them back. His wispy armor is gone and with it, surprisingly, some of his fear. Your eyes are clear and waiting, smile still pulling at your lips. 

“I don’t, I don’t have like, a date. Like, a-awhile.” Eddie stutters like he’s never spoken these words before. Nerves replacing fear when it starts to finally dawn on him: this isn’t going to end in flames.

The hand at his forehead slides down and rests on his cheek. He hasn’t taken a full breath in since you pushed his hair back, never mind now that your cradling his face, but the fear has been slowly melting off his shoulders while you’ve been staring at him and when your eyes trail down his face, it and the sudden nerves all just disappear. 

He feels your fingers flex along his jaw and he finally takes that breath. 

“I’m not reading this wrong am I?” Barely a whisper but he hears you. Shakes his head and opens his mouth to talk but you cut him off, just as quiet, “I don’t want us to make a mistake.” 

“You think this’d be mistake?” The hurt leaks through without his meaning to. 

“God no, Eddie I-“

There’s a bloom of confidence he hasn’t felt before, something that twist up through his ribs and around his spine. “Good.” 

Reaching out for you feels natural. He’s reached out to you a hundred times before but he’s never slid his hands into your hair. Tucked them up behind your ears and pulled you in close, felt you gasp when he brushes his lips against yours. Your hands pull at his shirt where they’re both fisted in the thin material, keeping him close. When you push into him he feels your mouth open, tongue grazing along his bottom lip; white static across his thoughts. 

It’s 10pm on a Thursday night and your kissing him in his room. Wearing his t-shirt and pushing him against the wall while your kissing him. He feels one of your hands flatten against his chest and his heart rockets off and your still kissing him. There’s your tongue again begging entrance and he yields, feels that barbell slide across his own tongue and he’s done for. It’s better than he could ever fantasize. He wants more of it but you just aren’t close enough. He grips at your hair to pull you in, to try and deepen the kiss but there’s no where else to go. You mumble something against his lips but he just swallows the sound and slides a hand down your back till he can get his fingers up under the hem of the shirt, palm laid flat against the small of your back. 

“Eddie.” You sigh his name and he makes it a personal goal right then to get you to do it again. Your hands wander down his chest and he starts his own wandering down your neck, lips finding any open skin he can kiss. “Hold on, Eddie-“

“I’m not holding on for shit.” He says in between kisses. “I’ve been thinking about doing this for months.” Your laugh vibrates under his mouth and it makes his eyes roll. “Do you want me to stop?” He pauses under your ear, panting against you. 

“No.” You sigh and shake your head, leaning into his hand still in your hair. “No I don’t.” 

He spends a few more minutes pulling little sounds out of you that he’s filing away for later. Nipping at your skin when you run your hands under his shirt and push it up. 

“Can I?” The question isn’t even finished before he pulls the shirt over his head and throws it behind you on the dresser. “Oh!” A giggle when he lays his hands back on you, hands rucking up your own shirt where he can run his palms over your midriff. There’s no finesse to his kisses anymore, just laying them wherever he can, anything to make you giggle again. He moves his hands higher, pushing your shirt up so he can finally see your tits again. It’s been a whole ass year since your wore your dress and he’s dreamt about this every day since. He kisses the tops of them and is mesmerized by the way they bounce back under his touch. 

“Hello old friends.”

“Old friends?!” When you laugh they move with you and he has to force himself to look back up at you. 

“Yeah, you saw the picture. We’re well acquainted.” He buries his face down in your cleavage and you hear him take a deep breath. “How do you always smell so good?” He’s layering kisses again and you’re trying to move around until you can pull your own shirt off. “Hey don’t rush this, I have this perfectly planned.” 

“Oh, so you left the drawer open on purpose?”

“Absolutely, it’s been my months long plan.” He takes a step forward to force you back one. Eyebrows scrunched together he scoffs, “I almost let you catch me for a while and then it happens by mistakeand I act like it’s the biggest fuck up ever and now I’ve got you shirtless. Listen, I plan campaigns babe. You know I can write ten steps ahead.” He’s walking you backwards till your legs hit his bed, fingers holding onto your belt loops to keep you close. 

“Eddie?” You hook your fingers into the waistband of his flannel pants, pulling down till they shift off his hips. 

“What?” He’s distracted by your fingers sliding around his hips. 

“You’re so full of shit.” He laughs when steps out of his pants and sees you look down, an immediate tilt to your head. Your fingers still against his skin, skimming the elastic of his boxers but he knows you’re staring at the growing bulge. The clever remark he had ready dies in the back of his throat when he hears the quiet ‘hmm’, watches your tongue poke out to swipe across your lips.

“If you keep staring I’m gonna get self conscious.” One hand covers his mouth to muffle the end of his sentence while the other lightly rubs up against his dick through the thin cotton. Somehow he stays upright, mouth falling open under your hand to pant against your palm. 

“You got any other surprises for me Munson?”

Are you talking to him? He can’t get a braincell to function with the heat of your hand pressed against him, barely moving at all. The button on your jeans is about all he can fathom, getting them opened and remembering how a zipper works is next. Your breath bouncing off of his chest makes him shiver and kind of brings some of his brain back up and running. 

“I uh, I got a few tricks up my sleeve.” He tips you back till you sit and he follows close, making you lay down. You laugh when your back hits the bed and you keep laughing, body shaking as he works your jeans down your legs. 

“What’s so funny, giggles?”

“I’m just…this is the first time I’ve had sex in a bed.”

Eddie stops moving and looks up at you from your feet. “I’m sorry, what?” He hopes he’s just hearing wrong, on account of his brain short circuiting a moment ago.  

“Yeah, it’s just always been in the back of cars.” You say it so flippantly, like it’s just a thing that happened to you. “I mean, It’s whatever. I just realized no one’s ever pushed me back on a bed before.” Your grin is hazy when you look down your body at him but he’s stone sober now. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to any of those assholes and he knows it. You’re the best thing to happen to him, and somehow you’ve gone this long with shitty car hookups. 

“No.” He shakes his head and pulls your jeans off fully. Slides your socks off and tosses them in the pile of your clothes. “You’re lying, please tell me your lying.” 

“I’m not! There’s so much more room!” You wave your arms next to you like you’re making a snow angle in his sheets. You sit up quick, bracing yourself on one hand to reach behind yourself to undo your bra when he stops you. 

“You don’t have to do that, I can help.” He’s crowded up against your legs where you’ve dropped them both sideways. 

“I know that, I was just making it easier.” His face must drop because you huff at him. “Look, I’m not stupid Eddie. I just, haven’t had the best track record I guess. I just assumed-“

“That I was gonna be like the other guys.”

You shrug. “Yeah, Hawkin’s finest. You know.” 

That’s a little bit of a blow, he won’t lie, but watching you slam up your walls when they’ve been nonexistent all night makes him switch tactics. 

“You deserve better than that.” He swings his legs to the side so he can lean over you, one arm braced against your hip, the other tilting your chin to look at him. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you pout before, your bottom lip sticking out pink and wet and he wants to bite it. “I’m serious.” He leans in close, lips brushing yours. “Can I be nice to you?” He whispers against you and your face flushes immediately, eyes darting down to stare at the bed. He can’t stop the grin spreading across his face, delighted with how flustered you get. 

“I-you’re always nice.” You mumble, chin fighting to get away from his hand holding you still. 

“I can be nicer.” He closes the small gap and kisses you again, still holding your chin. He can feel your breathing speed up when it ghosts over his cheek where you’re nose is pressed. When he’s certain you won’t pull away he moves his hand to your back, unhooking the clasps one by one. Eddie pulls back to look at you properly, fingers lightly pulling the straps down your arms. “Can I?”

“You don’t have to ask.” You say, still nodding your head at him anyways. 

“It’s good manners.” He says simply, wiggling your bra off of you, tossing it to join the growing pile. You’ve shifted back to your elbows, further away from him but giving him a better view. None of his fantasies are measuring up to real life. Just watching the way your tits lay when you shift has him practically drooling. He runs a fingertip from between them and down to your navel, marveling at the softness of your skin. Runs that same fingertip over to a hip and you jump just a little. “Ticklish?”

“Maybe.” Your voice is wobbly, chest rising and falling faster. He lays his palm flat against your stomach and runs it up your side, thumb brushing the underside of your breast and you sigh, letting your head fall back between your shoulders. 

“You are so fucking pretty.” Eddie means it. Even before all the crushing and jealously he could see it. With your head back he can watch the blush creep down your chest and he marvels at that too. 

“Eddie you can’t just say shit like that.” You sound strained from the angle your at. He runs his thumb under the swell of your breast again just to watch you shudder. 

“What, that your pretty?” He leans down to place a kiss on your chest, can feel your heartbeat tick up faster. He’s only got so much restraint before he grabs you up into his lap but he’s trying hard to be a gentleman about it. You deserve that much for your first time. Well, not overall but with him? Eddie’s determined to make you forget about every other guy who’s even looked at you. 

“Look at me.” He’s dropping kisses along your collarbone trying to get you to lift your head up. His hands have been itching to grab your tits but he wants you to stop being shy for a minute. “Please.” He’s trying to kiss up your neck when you finally lift your head. “Can you scoot up for me?” He asks and you oblige. As soon as your head hits his pillow he’s leaned back, pulling your knees back up so he wedge himself between them. He grabs your hand and pulls it up to kiss your open palm and you close your fingers around his cheeks, making him laugh. 

“Will you stop being cute and just touch me?” 

“How?” He kisses down your wrist, watching you get more flustered. 

“I don’t know, whatever you normally do?”

“No, that was with them, they don’t matter anymore.” He makes it to the crook of your elbow before he lets go and crawls over the top of you, getting in your face to stare you down. “What’d you think about this morning, hm?” He’s keeping track of all the little whimpers your making, the way you bite your lip when he makes you nervous. You won’t meet his eye so he follows your line of sight and you huff at him. 

“Stuff, Eddie. Oh my god.” You cover your face with your hands and he thinks he can feel the heat radiating off of you. It’s driving him crazy in the best way, he doesn’t think he’s ever had this effect on anyone before. 

“Aw c’mon. Tell me.” He kisses each finger before moving down to your knuckles and honestly, he just can’t help himself anymore when he brings a hand up to knead at your tits, a quick pinch of a hardened nipple and you gasp into your hands. “Was it this?” He pinches again and you wiggle under him, hips jumping up against him and he drops his head. You’re hot everywhere, and the core of you pressed up against him through his boxers is going to do him in if he’s not careful. “If you don’t tell me I’m gonna have to guess and this could be a long night.” He rolls his hips into you to try to get his point across and to try to get some relief. 

“Is that such a bad thing?” You ask, pulling your hands down to just cover your mouth. Your eyes are wide and glassy, pupils big and dark. 

“No, but I want to know what I do in these dreams of yours.” He moves back to your neck to make a path to your chest where he laps at your nipple. “Something like this?” He asks before wrapping his lips around and sucking, tongue flicking over sensitive skin. You arch your chest up and there’s a laugh caught in your moan. He moves over to your other side, nipping at you before mouthing at your other nipple, hand teasing at your hip. He snaps your underwear against you and you let out a quiet ‘ow’ and try to swat at his hand. “Or was I somewhere else?” His fingertips graze under the band and inch down. Your knees pull up tight around him and he’s so close to saying fuck it to his own game. 

“You were-fuck Eddie, you were going down on me.” You get so quiet, the one hand still on your mouth muffling your voice. 

“Oh?” He lets your nipple go with a wet sound, big grin already set in place. 

“If your gonna make fun of me…”

“Absolutely not.” 

You watch him over your hand place a scattering of kisses down till he hits your underwear, giving you one last questioning look before he hooks his fingers in and pulls them down. You’re also starting to feel a little self conscious when you realize he hasn’t taken his eyes off you. 

Payback

“Ed.” He just runs his hands up your legs, big palms warm against your thighs. He pulls your knees out a little further before leaning down and re-situating himself between your thighs, leaving open mouthed kisses along the inside. You’re torn between wanting to watch him and wanting to cover your face in embarrassment when he makes the decision for you, pulling at your elbow to drag your hand down to his head. He’s got that lazy smirk on his face and you can feel his breath skipping across too sensitive skin. 

“Give you something to hold on to.” You want to laugh but he’s too quick, fingers moving in to hold you open for him. Your head drops into the pillow when he licks a broad tongue from your center right up to your clit, your back arching up and Eddie’s laugh vibrates through you. 

“Oh fuck.”

“I haven’t even started yet.” You can hear the proud smirk in his voice and if you’d like to say something smart back you won’t, too focused on his mouth working you over. His tongue is soft, even when he points it, uses it to prod at your opening and you forget any remarks you might have had for him. 

“Eddie.” You pull at his hair when he wraps his lips around your clit and he groans. You’re stuck concentrating on his mouth until he slides one finger in and you choke on a gasp. He pulls his mouth away and lays his head against your leg, watching you from under his wet hair. 

“Is this what you thought about?” He can see you nod into the pillow, hand twisted next to your head in the fabric while he pumps his hand slowly. 

“It’s what I thought about.” He hooks his finger up, trying to find that soft spot to make you melt. “I think about it all the time.” The grip on your thigh is tight, keeping it close against his cheek. “Ever since you told me about those shitty dates.” 

“Seriously?” You lift your head, eyes half lidded and face scrunched up. 

“I should have nutted up and said something. They didn’t deserve you.” He pulls his finger out and you watch him suck it into his mouth, watch his eyes roll in his head. You groan and he adds his middle finger before he pulls his hand out, spit slick fingers running up over your clit, teasing you before he slides both back in. He leans in to run his tongue through your folds, watching you from under his lashes while you wriggle around and clutch at the pillow. The hand in his hair grips tighter and your legs squeeze up around his ears and he’s surrounded by you, the low chanting of his name keeping him planted in place. He finally finds that spot, feels you shudder under him before you moan, tilting your hips up to chase his touch. 

“Eddie Eddie Eddie fuck!” You keep rolling your hips against his face and he can’t help himself. He’s been pathetically rutting into the mattress listening to you whine and he can’t take it anymore. He taps under your thigh to get your attention, really gets it when he fully pulls away and you look down at him all concerned. “Why are you stopping?” 

“Good reason.” He stands up and pulls off his boxers, rooting around his nightstand for the condoms he knows are in there. He’s oblivious to you on the bed, sitting all the way up now and staring. Of course they’re not where he left them, instead tucked behind his lamp but he grabs one and climbs back on the bed before he realizes what he’s done. “Oh.” Eddie feels his face heat up when he looks down at himself. “I probably should have done that better.” He’s expecting you to laugh or sigh or say something witty but you just snatch the foil out of his hand and tear it open. You only pause for second before wrapping your hand around him and he’s positive this isn’t going to last as long as he’d hopped. When you roll the condom down he hisses and drops, head falling into your shoulder. 

“You okay champ?” 

He just nods and whines when you give him a few easy strokes, watching your hand move up and down his cock. You’re so much more gentle with him than he is with himself. Eyes half open and mouth hanging he’s sure he looks fucking stupid but he doesn’t care, doesn’t want you to stop touching him. When you scoot closer and pull his face up it takes him a moment to realize you’re kissing him, for him to react and do something. 

“C’mere.” He shakes out of his haze enough to move back between your knees, pulling your hips so your ass is flush against his thighs. He pulls your leg up to hook over his hip, placing a quick kiss on your knee before lining himself up.  He rubs the tip of cock against you, catching on your clit twice and making you whimper. 

“Please Ed.” He doesn’t need to be begged twice, grabs the base of his dick and sinks in slow. Sees your breath catch and your eyes roll, “Oh fuck it.” He bottoms out, can feel you clenching around him tight and hot and gasping and laughing and he looses all composure. Fingers dug into your leg wrapped around him he snaps his hips back and into you, punching out a sharp peal of laughter. He does it again, loves the way he can hear the choked off gasp in your throat. When he picks up his pace you grab at the sheets, twisting them up off his bed. 

“Fucking th-thank you-u!” It’s stuttered out between thrust, your face flushed and twisted up in a smile. 

“You know how many times I thought about this?” He has to talk, if he doesn’t talk he’s going to blow his load and he refuses to let your first time together end before a full minute passes. “Every time I looked at that picture I thought about it. I should have fucked you in that bathroom.” Your nails scratch at his thigh where they try to find purchase. “All the rides out to the lake oh fuck- I should have done this sooner, yeah?” He licks his thumb before bringing it down on your clit, running tight circles around it. Your back arches off the bed and he feels you clench around him. “Is that it? Right there-ohmygod.” It almost sounds like you’re crying his name just before you come, nails digging into his thigh when it crashes into you. He watches you tense up and then collapse against the bed, pliant under him where he starts to loose his rhythm. The heat that reached up fast burns up his spine while he watches you revel in your aftershocks, already trying to grab him down to you. The hazy look in your eyes and that grin you’re flashing him send him over the edge, burying himself with a deep groan, your name scattered between curses. He’s whited out until he can catch his breath, gripping your thigh until he can see straight. In the distant ringing in his ears he can hear your giggle under him, soft like the hands trying to pull him closer. 

“Hey.” Your eyes find his in his own haze, slowly coming back down to earth. “Come here.” Gentle tugs to get him to lay down but he shakes his head, asks for minute. He pulls out to get rid of the condom and disappears into the bathroom for minute, leaving you to roll around his bed. When he comes back he turns off his light. Sees that you’ve pulled the blankets up under your chin, one finger poking out to beckon him back in. “I’m cold.” 

Eddie would like to pinch himself just to make sure this is real. In all of his imaginings he never let himself have this part. The sex was easy to think about but this hurt too much to ever linger on. He finds his pants first before crawling back into bed, snaking a hand around your middle and pulling you into him. He wedges his nose up under your jaw and hums, leaving a few soft kisses in his wake. 

“Are you always this cuddly?” 

“I don’t normally get to cuddle.” You’re both quiet in the dark, hushed tones under the blankets. 

“Huh.” Your fingers tangle up in his hair, nails lightly scratching over his scalp. It sends a deep shiver down his spine and he has a split second where he feels like crying. “Their loss.” He feels the kiss you leave on his forehead and just buries his head further into your neck. You smell like you always do, sweet and deep and now a little like him. He drifts off without meaning to. 

It’s not daylight yet, but his room is lighter. There’s no alarm clock going off next to his head so he looks around, trying to find whatever it is that pulled him out of his warm cocoon. 

Bleary vision in the dark, he can barely make out your form jumping quietly into your jeans. He’s peering at you from under the covers, watching you get dressed. You stop mid jump to pick something up, staring at it before padding over to his dresser and tucking it into his mirror. He’s basically awake when you turn to open his door and he quietly asks you where you’re going. 

“Jesus fucking Christ you’re gonna give me a heart attack.” You clutch you chest and try to search through the dark for his eyes, finally see him when he pulls the sheets back a bit. 

“Seriously, where are you goin’?”

“It’s almost 5. I figured Wayne was gonna be home soon so I cleaned up the living room and like, I didn’t know if I should hang around?”

“You sleep over here all the time.” He slides a hand out from under the covers to make a grabby hand at you. “He won’t care.”

“Well I mean, I’m not usually naked in your bed dude.”

“Then leave your shirt on.” Eddie doesn’t understand what you’re not understanding. “I mean it, Wayne isn’t gonna care. If anything he’ll be happy I stopped bitching about you.”

“You bitch about me?”

“No, I bitched about not having you. There’s a difference. Now come here, I’m cold.” He lifts the blankets up quick, making a sweeping motion for you to get back in. “Plus, he won’t say anything unless you do. He likes you too much to embarrass you.” You’re out of your jeans again and crawling over him, trying to avoid kneeing him. 

“Aww, he likes me?”

“Well I like you too.” You’re barely settled before he’s wrapped around you, leg hitched over your thighs and pinning you down. “What’s that get me?” He’s nosing along your jaw again. 

“Depends what you’re looking for.” 

“Mm. Concert tickets to see Ozzy in Indy.”

“Oh that’s a big ask.”

“I see. How about a kiss?” He pulls back to smile lazily up at you. 

“I can do that.”

❣Tag List❣

@edsforehead @fracturedarkness @munsonsguitarpick @bebe07011 @ali-r3n @cantreadbutcute @eddiethesexy @emma77645

[skywarpie]

Hi! For the touch starved prompts, could you maybe do "oh, sweetheart- come here” and "please, never apologise for wanting to be loved” for gn!reader/copia?

Send me a prompt

Tw: depression and self loathing;

Copia is no stranger to heartbreak. It's one of the first lessons he ever learned. Don't put all your faith into someone, namely, because they will ultimately let you down. It's something that you've watched him struggle with time and time again. He wants to trust people to be able to adore them, but ultimately, they all leave eventually and he's left with the same result.

Loneliness.

Typically, you're good at gauging his moods, but today is off. You can't put your finger on it, but something is just wrong. He's too quiet. Granted, the two of you haven't seen each other since breakfast, but still, he's typically made at least one appearance by now.

You understood that being promoted to Cardinal was a change for him, and Copia has never handled change well. He's a creature of habit that follows the same schedule every day. Even on days off. But - he hasn't participated in that schedule today, and it makes lead settle in your belly.

You sit aside your work, deciding that you've done enough of it for the time being. The halls are quieter than usual as you make your way down them, but it is a Monday, and typically, half of the church is sleeping off some form of hangover. So it's not too out of place.

The first place you check is his office. A quick inspection shows he's not there and from the looks of it, hasn't been since yesterday. Now, you truly begin to panic. Despite being unhappy with the position, Copia always makes sure to tend to the work given to him, even if it is more than should be ethically legal.

You make a hasty exit and begin speed walking to his room. Those had been upgraded as well, although his room was still sad. At least in your view. Surely, the upper clergy could splurge for a bedframe. Everyone else had one, but Copia -- Copia just seemed to accept things as they were. That this was his lot in life, the shit end of the stick and whatever he was given he should be grateful for.

"Copia?" Your voice is hesitant as you unlock his door with your spare key.

The room is dark and the air thick with what can only be described as misery.

"Copia?" You repeat.

When you do find him, it feels like time stops.

He's sitting, curled in on himself, hands in his hair as he rocks back and force on the floor in a pathetic attempt to soothe himself.

You waste no time in running to him, crouching in front of him and looking at him with such worry, it makes you nauseous. "Copia," you pry his hands from his head, and it's then that you see he's been crying. A lot. His eye makeup is smudged beyond belief and his painted upper lip is essentially bare. "What's wrong?"

He yanks his hands from your grasp with such force that it leaves you momentarily stunned. He tucks them under his arms, refusing to look at you.

You open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off. "This was stupid. I'm stupid." It's said with such hollowness that you wonder how long he's felt like this.

"You're not stupid." You reach a hand out to touch his cheek. "Sweetie, what happened?" You already have an idea, but you'll let him tell you.

"I thought -- " you watch as his lower lip trembles. "I thought if I agreed to this position, then Imperator would -- I thought she would." He's on the verge of a panic attack. You can see it by the way he shakes. "But there's so much paperwork and stress, and it's so hard to stay focused and -- what -- what did I do to make her hate me so much? I've apologized for everything and --"

You pull him into a tight hug as the flood gates finally break, and he sobs uncontrollably, face buried in your chest. "Oh sweetheart -- come here." You pull him closer until you're practically cradling him. "Please never apologize for wanting to be loved." The fact you even have to say this at all makes your blood boil. What kind of fucking mother would treat her own child this way?

You sit there on the floor, holding him until his tears dry and he calms. You want to say this is a one time thing, but it's happened before, it will most certainly happen again.

[morganofthewildfire]

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What the Truth Is

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~1.5k words

CW: implications of an eating disorder, brief depictions of sexual abuse

just a quick thing I wrote last night in an hour! Hopefully it's coherent!

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Celaena walked into the office that morning feeling like she did every day - nauseous and fucking empty. 

It was an effort not to hurl up the meager breakfast she’d eaten this morning; in fact, it took everything in her not to stop in the bathroom and stick a finger down her throat to do just that. But, no, she was trying to stop that. She needed to stop that. 

He’d made a comment the other day about how skinny she was getting, how she had no meat on her bones anymore. Nothing for him to grab, were his words. And that was dangerous, because he could be starting to not want her. And she needed him to want her, no matter how much he disgusted her. 

Because he knew everything. And he wouldn’t hesitate to use that information if she stopped giving him what he wanted. And what he wanted was her. 

Celaena knew she had dark circles under her eyes as she made her way to the receptionist's desk on the executive level of the extravagant office building, dropping her bag on the floor and plopping into her chair with a resigned sigh. 

Like every day, she wiggled the mouse to wake her computer up before typing in her password and opening her email. Nothing there of course, she’d already checked it early this morning when she realized sleep was futile. 

Why not get some work done instead of staring at the wall? 

She didn’t have many responsibilities anyway, so all she had left to do today was sit there and answer calls, maybe schedule some meetings if she was feeling fancy. 

The receptionist downstairs fielded most of the incoming calls, she was simply the extra line of defense before anyone could reach one of the big guys at Hamel Enterprises. 

She could fiddle with her list of job postings, maybe browse the internet for more to add, even if it was futile. She would never leave. 

A shiver raced through her and she let her tired eyes fall shut. When was this going to end? 

“Good morning, Miss Sardothien,” a familiar voice rang out politely through the quiet space. She wasn’t the first one here, but she hadn’t been bothered yet, probably wouldn’t be for at least a few more hours.

Celaena whipped her eyes open, forcing a pleasant smile to her face as she looked up to meet the gaze of Rowan Whitethorn, Chief Operating Officer of Hamel Enterprises. He was young to be in a position so high up, only a few years older than herself, but she knew he was incredibly qualified and capable for the job. 

And he was nice, to her at least. She heard rumors he was a hard ass when it came to business, but he was always pleasant when he spoke to her. Did he know what kind of man he worked for? 

“Good morning,” she croaked back in response, sitting up and trying not to let her eyes wander too much. It wasn’t fair that he looked so delicious in that suit he wore every day, but she didn’t want to give him the wrong impression. 

She could never be available, no matter how much interest she tried to pretend away. 

Rowan didn’t offer the same back, perusing her with his green gaze, his silvery brows pinched in concern. Celaena fidgeted. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, tilting his head as his eyes examined her face. She shrugged dismissively, looking down at her computer. 

“Just tired,” she said with a grimace, “didn’t sleep well last night.” 

“Ah, I've been there,” he said, smiling a bit in his attempt at comradery that Celaena unfortunately couldn’t return. “Do you want me to get you some coffee?” 

She smiled wryly, glancing up at him before looking back down at the blank screen. 

“Isn’t that my job?” She asked, raising a brow, and she smiled genuinely at the chuckle her quip earned. But it faded as other words came to her mind - your job is to do whatever the fuck I want you to do, with a pretty little smile on that worthless face. 

She cleared her throat, fighting the nausea again. “Well,” she rasped, “I’m sure you have work to do. Me. Moonbeam called yesterday to confirm your meeting this afternoon, just a reminder.” 

Rowan seemed to get the dismissal, stepping back from the desk with a nod and a strained smile. Celaena tried to ignore the pang in her own heart. 

“Of course,” he said, “thank you.” 

And then he was gone, heading down the hallway to his office and leaving her alone again in the unbearable silence. 

Until the desk phone rang, startling her out of her solitude. 

She rubbed her eyes as she answered it, holding the phone up to her ear. 

“This is Hamel Enterprises, Celaena speaking,” she said, trying not to sound too monotonous. 

“My office, now,” a sickeningly familiar voice demanded before hanging up, and all she could do was set down the phone and try to take in a deep breath. All she could end up getting was a tiny puff of air, but she still stood up, smoothing down the skirt he’d demanded she wear and heading out from behind the desk. 

She could do this, she could do this, she could do this. 

She’d already done it so many times, what was really the harm in it happening again? Everything. 

Her lips were trembling but she lifted her chin high as she walked down the hallway in her heels, knocking primly on the door at the end of it. He was early today, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be ready. In his eyes, she needed to be available to him whenever he wanted.

“Come in,” his smooth voice purred, and Celaena didn’t give herself a chance to hesitate as she pushed it open and entered the devil’s den. 

And when he instructed her to lock the door and close the blinds and get on her knees, she knew that yet again it was too late to escape.

———

The bile burned as she retched into the toilet in front of her, a sob escaping her as she fought for air. Messy tears had streamed down her cheeks, her ruined hair getting stuck in them and the vomit as she tried to expel it all straight into the plumbing. 

The moment she’d left his office she’d beelined in here, collapsing on the hard tile and shoving a finger down her throat to just try and get rid of it all. Get rid of the taste of him. She didn’t care that she’d promised herself she’d stop; she needed it out.

He’d been brutal this morning, grabbing her harshly by the hair and pinching her nose so she couldn’t breathe. And she couldn’t do a damn thing about it. 

He’d come with a harsh whisper of her name, her real name, careful to keep down but still fucking with her mind and taunting her with the fact that he knew her secrets, that he knew exactly what she’d been running from so desperately. 

So desperately that this was a better alternative. 

Celaena vomited again before settling back against the wall, taking deep breaths. When she was sure the attack was done, she flushed the toilet and forced herself to stand, her whole body aching with hurt. 

One glance in the mirror showed her that she looked like a godsdamned mess, but there was only so much she could do to straighten herself up. Her lipstick was out in her purse at her desk. 

So she just smoothed her hair back behind her ears and wiped away the ruined makeup, trying to look dignified as she exited the bathroom and headed back toward her desk to continue the hours long routine of nothingness. 

But what she saw made her pause. 

There, on top of her desk, was a pink mug she didn’t recognize from the kitchen, with steaming hot coffee tempting her from across the room. Celaena slowly walked toward it, sliding down into her seat before picking it up. 

When she knew it wasn’t too hot anymore, she took a careful sip, letting the warm liquid soothe her aching throat. It was exactly how she made it for herself, the right amount of sugar and everything. 

That was when she saw the note left on the desk too, sharp penmanship scrawled on a yellow sticky note. Celaena picked it up carefully, a small smile managing to sneak out across her face as she read the sweet words, so different from what she’d just encountered. 

I hope you feel better soon, let me know if there’s anything I can do to help. 

-- Rowan

-----

taglist:

@wordsafterhours

@romancinghollywood

@superspiritfestival

@wishfulimaginings

@larisssss

@punkassbookjockey26

@shyvioletcat

@aelinchocolatelover

@s-uppertime

@leiawritesstories

@elentiyawhitethorn

@backtobl4ck

@goddess-aelin

@fromthelibraryofemilyj

@justreadertings

@rowaelinismyotp

@live-the-fangirl-life

@swankii-art-teacher

@tomtenadia

@highqueenofelfhame

@firestarsandseneschals

@thegreyj

@mariamuses

@house-of-galathynius

@rowanaelinn

@llyncooljones

@story-scribbler

@charlizeed

@bookcide

@elizarikaallen

@slytherhys

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@rowaelinrambling

@courtofjurdan

@peppermint-fae

[buckyismybicycle]

I don't know how terrible this quality will be on Tumblr, but the higher resolution/original can be found on AO3!

Title: swim for the music that saves you Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers Tags: ShrinkyClinks, Social Media AU, WIP/teaser Summary: It all started when he sent a video singing Happy Birthday to his sister, not knowing that she would post it on her social media.

Now, JBuckyBarnes has millions of followers all hearing his story, following his recovery, listening to him sing. Little does he know, he's going to change the life of one follower in particular.

Steve Rogers, chronically ill and spending most of his days inside, has to live vicariously through others. He longs for adventure, trying new things, feeling the sun on his face. A/N: This fic has been sitting in my drafts for some time now... Thanks to @buckybarnesevents: Alternate June-iverse giving me a little kick, I've decided to post an excerpt/the beginning and the rest of it will come in due course.

“Hiya folks… Well, it was, uh.” The brunette on screen pauses and then smiles sadly. “Alright, you know I can’t lie to you. I wanna say it was fine and dandy, but it was honestly rough. That’s why this video’s a bit late, sorry ‘bout that, by the way. It took longer than I thought it would to edit so I honestly kind of gave up.”

He lays his head in a propped up hand, resting against his piano. 

“So, I got home Sunday afternoon and crashed. I don’t even remember getting into bed. Didn’t sleep through the night, of course. I never do. But! That’s just me, my body’s not a fan of the meds. I was feeling crummy — you know when you’re so hungry you’re nauseous but you can’t eat ‘cause you’re nauseous? Anyway, so that for like, six hours. Finally got to sleep when the sun was risin’ but only managed about an hour or so. You lot haven’t heard Brooklyn traffic.”

Steve can’t help but smirk at that because he has, and he is in fact listening to the god-awful Brooklyn traffic outside his window. He could always move his desk away from the window, but he needs some sort of sunlight from time to time.

The YouTube video plays on his phone while he takes a break from work, stretching and wincing as his joints crack.

“So, it’s like, ten in the mornin’ and I decide I’m gonna get something to eat. Nausea won that round, unfortunately, so by three o'clock I am starving. I was cranky for the whole day, and I don’t wanna make cranky videos for you guys. So, that’s enough rambling from me. My brain’s been a little all over the place so I haven’t written anything in ages, but how about a cover of the best of the best? Thanks for sticking around! Hope you like this one.”

Steve watches as Bucky lifts the cover of his piano and stretches the fingers on his prosthetic. Today, it’s the metal titanium one, with its beautiful plate work and a small Hydra Industries logo on the forearm. 

You gotta swim… Swim for your life

Swim for the music that saves you

When you're not so sure you'll survive

You gotta swim… Swim when it hurts

The whole world is watching

You haven't come this far to fall off the earth

The currents will pull you, away from your love

Just keep your head above

I found a tidal wave begging to tear down the dawn

Memories like bullets, they fired at me from a gun

Cracking the armor, yeah

I swim for brighter days, despite of the absence of sun

Choking on salt water, I'm not giving in, I swim

You gotta swim… through nights that won't end

Swim for your families, your lovers, your sisters, and brothers and friends

Steve listens to the beautiful voice fill the empty space of his studio apartment, caught up in the soft yet powerful melody. What really hits him are the words, though. 

Bucky’s life is no secret — except maybe his real first name because there’s no parent on this planet that hates their kid that much. Steve doesn’t know exactly how Bucky had started off, but the channel was a newer discovery for Steve. 

Well, there it is. As always, thanks so much for tuning in! Hope you liked the song, and maybe I’ll see you guys next time with something original, huh? Bye!” 

[thoselethalarts]

𝕸𝖆𝖗𝖈𝖚𝖘 𝕿𝖔𝖒𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖉 - 𝕻𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖔𝖓𝖆𝖑 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖞

(SSR) Birthday Suit Up (Part 1): “Happy Birthday!”

(Octavinelle Dorm – Birthday Party Venue)

(NRC Newspaper “Birthday Interview” ~Marcus Issue~)

> Happy Birthday!

Marcus: Wh- Uh… Thank you. Marcus: Wait, why are you here? …Oh. Don’t tell me. Marcus: You’re here for the school paper or something, aren’t you?

(MC nods)

Marcus: Ughhh… I wish someone had warned me about that in advance. I’m guessing you’re wanting to do a birthday interview then. Marcus: Gimmie just a moment. I gotta mentally prep myself first. Marcus: (Takes a deep breath) Whew. Okay, go ahead.

“How do you feel about the celebrations so far?”

Marcus: It’s been okay… I think? Marcus: I've been through this plenty of times already since I've been here for three years, but I still never got used to everyone going through so much just for my birthday. Marcus: I’ve never really been one for big parties, so it’s a little overwhelming… everyone has so much more energy than me. Marcus: It hasn’t been bad per say, just… a lot. If that makes sense.

“How do you normally celebrate?”

Marcus: Like, at home? Marcus: Well… when I was younger I used to do bigger things, like go to an arcade or amusement park with my friends. Marcus: Lately though I’ve just been into doing smaller get-togethers at most. Like a nice dinner and a dessert after sounds good enough to make me happy. Marcus: Sometimes we’ll do a movie night and see something new together, and that’s always fun too, since I like seeing movies. Marcus: I feel like the older I get the less big things I want to do. But I’m happy, so that’s okay.

“Can you tell us a birthday memory?”

Marcus: A birthday memory? Man, I don’t know… I don’t usually have memorable birthdays… Ah. Well, there is one thing. Marcus: I remember one year when I was still a kid and doing big birthday stuff I decided I wanted to go to this big pizza place in town called “John’s Incredible Pizza”. Marcus: You... probably haven't heard of it before. It's a, uh... old place. Probably shut down by now. Not important, anyway... Marcus: It’s a big arcade that gives out tickets for big wins, and even has a couple rides. And instead of just serving pizza, they have an all-you-can-eat buffet with all kinds of food. Marcus: Pizza, pasta, chicken, salad, garlic bread, soup... So much tasty stuff that literally anyone can enjoy eating there.

“Sounds like fun.”

Marcus: Right? I was so excited to go there for my birthday, I couldn’t wait for the day to turn over. Marcus: But… somehow I guess I got too excited for it. So excited, in fact, that the day of I made myself nauseous with excitement. Marcus: We paid to get in, got our table, and... I couldn’t eat a single bite of food. Marcus: Right at that moment I got so sick to my stomach that I ended up running to the bathroom instead and puking. I ended up crying and my mom took me and Matt back home. Marcus: It's not a really happy story, but it's kinda funny in retrospect. Like who woulda thought you could make yourself sick with excitement? Not me, that's for sure. Marcus: I try not to let myself get too excited or worked up over things now, but it's impossible to not be happy about something I like. Marcus: Sometimes you just like something so much that it kills you. Heheh…

/ To Be Continued...

[findingmypeace]

How is it already 5:30pm? I've been trying really hard to stay grounded today instead of getting lost in dissociation. It's been hard.

So for awhile I was scared that RY and I were drifting apart. Our contact was a few texts every few weeks. But recently I've really tried to make an effort to engage. A few weeks ago she asked me to come support her in something. I was honored. The fact that she wanted me there made me feel like she trusts me and wants my support in this hard situation. That meant so much.

We also decided to get together on days we work from home. We'll go to a cafe or something similar and work on our laptops together. I love this! This past Monday we got together and I had the most humiliating experience. She handled it so gracefully. I have really bad acid reflux due to decades of purging. If I'm eating and the food hits this particular spot in my throat it immediately starts burning and within a few minutes the food starts coming up. I'm not nauseous when this happens. The acid reflux is just forcing it to come up. So while we were at Panera this actually happened! Woah. This time was the worst it's ever been. The food would not stop coming up. Ugh, it was awful! I had vomit all up and down my blouse and a little on my jeans. Eventually I went to the bathroom and kind of, sort of purged the rest (I don't think it was an actual purge considering the situation). Omfg! This was humiliating!!! Like I can't even describe it. But she was so, so nice about it. I told her this was related to purging (because it is) and she was so empathetic. I really appreciated that. I cleaned myself up and we went on with our meal.

This is happening more and more. I'm really concerned this will eventually happen every time I eat and will be permanent. I am not a medical professional so I have no idea if this is true and is how it works. I have heard that there is is sphincter in your throat/esophagus and it helps push food down into your digestive system. But a side effect of long-term, frequent purging is that the sphincter will start going the opposite way and the food can't help but come up. I'm terrified of this happening to me. For some people it's permanent and that terrifying. At the same time the idea of eliminating purging so that this doesn't happen sounds impossible. Fuck eating disorders!

[talentforlying]

@normaltothemax: ♬♬ — SONGS I LOVE

a pain that i'm used to - depeche mode! i am a HUGE depeche mode fan, they're one of my top ten bands, and this one is so much fun to sing! the dynamic shifts between the sirens and the verses + the low steady vocals both give off a very ominous, hypnotic vibe that i think fits constantine's aura of both overwhelming danger and magnetism. the lyrics also sit in a very late-hellblazer place for me, when he's exhausted and angry and just drifting aimlessly on the synchronicity highway from one catastrophe to the next without being able to really feel anything other than apathy towards the fact that he's going to have to solve somebody else's problem. he very much loses himself after his sister dies; he finds a pain that he's used to in direct, seething hate with his name stamped on the label, not oblique calls to destiny that may or may not end in tears, and late hellblazer has him almost craving someone to despise him, just so he knows where he stands.

i'm not sure what i'm looking for anymore / i just know that I'm harder to console / i don't see who i'm trying to be instead of me / but the key is a question of control

also, the song speaks to the fact that a lot of the shit he pulls and the emotions he shows are truly who he is, not always just a con; he wears masks on masks, but there's a lot fewer there than people think. at his core, constantine is driven by deep compassion and burning empathy, he just has to conceal it a lot in order to protect the people he cares about:

i can't conceal what i feel, what i know is real / no mistaking the faking, i care

welcome to the family - avenged sevenfold! this song has been my baby since i wrote gabriel in the supernatural fandom back in middle school lmao, it's my personal patron saint of lost souls and rebellious sons. unlike with gabriel, though, i like to think of this song as the wall that constantine is always shoving against, the manifestation of his opposition: "it seems there's no one to call," "you can't win this fight," these are the fleeting moments of despair before he buckles down, battens down all the vulnerable places, hammers back the doubts, and gets to fucking work. this song is his subconscious wailing at him while he steadfastly ignores it and pushes through, never mind the burnout that will be waiting for him on the other side, never mind how much it costs him. this is what's left of his dad whispering in his ear, his inner monologue, the person he's afraid he'll one day become, and it's an unavoidable part of his subconscious that he has to drag himself past every day of his life.

i see you're a king who's been dethroned / cast out in a world you've never know / stand down, place your weapon by your side / it's our war in the end, we'll surely lose but that's alright / so have you figured it out now, so have you figured it out?

+ 2 songs: for lucy, werewolf heart - dead man's bones has such a kid antichrist vibe to me, and even the title alone makes me think of how his powers manifest at night and kind of lock him away, like a miniature werewolf transformation, and how arthur and john are scrambling to find solutions for him so he doesn't have to become something he doesn't want to be.

'cause if the full moon comes, our love is done / so forever, towards dawn, we run

and for jake, fight - the dirty youth feels like the cage match energy constantine would bet money on. it has the vibe of someone who's kind of bound up in fate to be a brawler, to take the hits that other people won't, until the closest thing you know to a release is that angry energy, which feels very jake to me.

don't wanna go there, i've had a late night / i'm feeling nauseous, chemicals enter my brain / i'm a control freak, an internet geek / i get these cravings, to get out and escape you know that it's fate, and now you can't see / you lose your conscience, and break the silence / the script is written, it's complicated / oh, something's about to erupt

[bonny-kookoo]

That said, I can't give you a perfect outline of what to really look out for, because there is none. It's different in each person, just like thinks such as depression or a burnout can look VERY different from one person to another. What exactly makes you think you might be regressing? I'm honestly pretty relaxed talking about it. (I just keep it low in the fics that I write because I know most people do not feel comfortable with it.)

Talks of abuse and possible stress factors below the cut.

******

As silly as it may seem, I've been super stressed with uni lately. I'm part of the medicine field, you see, and with that comes a lot of work. It's only my second year, so I'm farely new to this stuff. Anyhow, what makes me feel like I might be regressing is that for the past four months or so, I have been feeling rather 'small', if that makes sense? By small, I don't mean it in a demeaning kind of sense, but rather, in a more dependant sense? I'm a very independent woman in general, always being the one that people come to for advice and support, lol, but during this stressed months, it's been quite different. I've been resorting to being more whiny when frustrated when the smallest of things don't really fall in place, I've been super clumsy during these times, hyperactive, hypersensitive, nervous around loud noises and colors, and jumpy, watching cartoons (loads of them, in fact. It's pretty fun, and extremely relaxing, maybe because of how much little thought you have to put into the shows), and most importantly, my need for being able to rely on someone else for more than just kind words and advice has come to the surface. I've been willing to lose that control that I've oh so desperately hung onto in life. It's the only way I would have survived all that I have, otherwise, things never might have turned out well for me academically. You see, I lived in an abusive household as a child, and through my teen years, I had to protect my siblings from the damage of such a traumatic household. And with that kind of a responsibility comes a LOT of need for control over your own life. And I've just been more than willing to lose that, and I think what gave it away that this might be regression, is the fact that I think i slipped into a slightly different, not personality, but, a slightly different mindset, where I just felt free from all things stressful and slipped from the control I have over myself. [I still am not sure cause honestly, I don't know enough!! :(( ] this happened around my best friend, and luckily, she somehow knew what it may have been. She was able to be gentle with me that day, maybe because she just felt that I was super stressed. Honestly, I'm very lost, for the lack of a better word. And the internet was of no help, and I don't think I'm comfortable with speaking to people irl yet. Don't get me wrong, I'm not in the least repulsed by the thought of me regressing, nope, I just want to be able to get to know how to handle myself, understand my situation, before I give someone else such vulnerable information.. get what i mean?

Answer under the cut.

It definitely sounds like it's a stress-response from you, which is actually completely normal. I remember someone once explained to me how your mind wants to basically protect itself from getting overwhelmed, so it comes up with responses when things get too much. For some its physical like your heart rate increasing, feeling nauseous, becoming dizzy, or it can be purely emotional and they start crying, feeling sad and overwhelmed, or they become moody and angry. And in others, like us, its behavioral- we 'create' a separate mindset where we can 'recharge', at least that's how I like to look at it. It's not being lazy or stupid, its simply giving yourself a break to regroup yourself and start fresh again. It doesn't have to be regression- some start maladaptive daydreaming for example.

The worst you can do is reject it entirely and try to just 'pull through' with no regards for if your body/mind can handle it. It'll just result in burnout or a complete mental breakdown.

It's good to hear though that your friend seemed to be able to handle it well and appeared to be understanding. You might wanna talk to them about it, maybe it'll help you set up somewhat of a support with them. You don't NEED someone else to handle regression properly, but it's always nice to have someone!

[flowercrowngods]

hey you? yeah, you. i know life’s been running you down lately, and maybe you don’t see a way out of this just yet, but you will make it out on the other side. promise, pinky promise in fact. you’re stronger than you think, and a hell of a lot better than your mind is telling you right now. and, i know that this is all the same cliché bullshit you’ve heard before, but believe me this time at least, will you? think of the sunshine, think of the spring rain, think of the way the wind feels when you’re standing under the clouds, think of that warm mug of coffee or tea. there are so many tiny pings of happiness in each day, and it’d be a waste to not notice those, right? i love you, i’m proud of you, and you’re gonna be alright. - 🌿

you know, a few months ago, an ask like this would have made my skin crawl, my heart race, and my brain yell at me to the point of being nauseous. i used to be a bit like you, nonnie, in the sense that i used to send these out too, spread love, spread kindness, jump into people's dms to hand out affection and words of affirmation. that was, like, the whole deal. that was who i was.

and then i got that abused and manipulated and gaslit out of me, to the point where i could not accept kindness or affection of any kind. compliments are still a tough deal, the first instinct is to yell NO and run away and back to a pit of self isolation where no one can perceive me. i had to reinvent myself and this new self had to exist outside of love.

and the thing is, healing is a quiet process, it just happens and then you wake up one day and something that used to hurt you can't hurt you anymore. and that thing is your ask. kind words. random love that doesn't expect anything in return, no strings attached, just kindness for kindness's sake, given my way out of eight billion people on this planet.

so i would like to thank you, nonnie, for showing me how far i've come, for making me realise that i don't feel nauseous or panicked, for giving me a sliver of hope that maybe one day i could have that part of my life back. thank you for being the bird that announces spring, thank you for being that extra minute of light that announces brighter times ahead. thank you for being the spark 🌷🤍

[temporalbystander]

Since I'm torn between screaming and crying, don't ask me why I've never felt so emotional over being so nauseous before, I figured id try and fix my previous screw up. I was pissed that I couldn't end it the way I wanted so, clearly, that shouldn't have been where I ended it. Now let's try good man Tom take two.

To say Tom was happy that his daughter was with the boy she loved was an understatement. The fact that the young Adrien Agreste had been granted more freedom and was actually able to come over more often? Well it brought a joy to the baker that he didn't think possible. Sabine loved having someone else to speak Mandarin with of course and, even though Tom didn't understand a word of it, he loved how happy and free his wife sounded speaking in her native tongue. But for the moment young Adrien was currently helping with the clean up which lead to Tom being reminded of a question he thought the boy might be in a perfect position to answer. "Adrien? What do you think of Faybon?" Since the day they last spoke the orphan had gone no further than the bakery whenever he stopped by. Picking up some pastries and then leaving with a simple thank you.

"Faybon?" If the former model was surprised at the sudden topic it didn't stop him for long. "He's amazing really. Seeing him go through the day you wouldnt know about his home life or just how harshly he pushes himself." Adrien slowed down slightly, clearly the stresses of his own life were coming to mind, but he still kept talking. "He told me once that the only thing keeping him in school was that Miss Netta, the caretaker, had asked him to stay." The blonde let out a small chuckle. "Of course that didnt stop him from working non-stop to take on some of the financial problems the orphanage faced."

"He clearly cares about his home." Tom added when there was a slight pause. How could a kid that was so kind and so determined have remained an orphan for so long? Even then how could he be so overlooked when his personality gave off such a presence while you were talking to him?

Adrien had gone to grab another tray and brought it to the bench, they had finished cleaning but apparently the young Agreste wasn't done talking. Tom wasn't going to complain though. It seemed to subject of the other boy weighed as heavily on Adrien's mind as it did his own. "I had assumed he was Marinette's boyfriend at first, because he was so affectionate towards her. I still feel guilty about that." Tom didn't say anything, his little girl had told him about the way Faybon had teased her when they first became friends, the constant hugs and embraces would have definitely give the wrong impression to an outside observer. "He explained everything of course, more than I expected him too, even said we were a lot alike."

"Well you are both amazing kids with a lot of work experience under your belt." The appreciative smile Adrien gave off at that helped Tom to relax a little. Seemed like he wasn't messing this conversation up too badly yet.

"True but... I can't help but think there's more to it than that." The blonde teen looked around before lowering his voice slightly. "Don't tell Marinette but I can't help but wonder if it truly was a good thing she got him to open up to everyone." Maybe Tom's shock didn't translate on his face well because Adrien almost seemed scared as he tried to explain himself. "I mean he's a great friend and I'm glad to know him it's just..." The boy seemed to get frustrated by his inability to speak clearly.

"Did something happen that made you think this way?" Tom thought the best way to help the kid calm down was to get him to think of it a different way. It seemed to work.

"Our friends band was doing a rehearsal a while ago and we had all managed to be there." Adrien started slowly. "We had set up the chairs and everything but one of our friends, Kagami, had just been in an argument with her mother again. So Faybon was trying to cheer her up." The smile the boy gave was tinged with sadness at that and Tom couldn't think of a reason why that would be the case. "He had thrown his body across several of the chairs and put his head in her lap. Since her mother kept calling her soft he seemed determined to try and show her why that was a good thing. He promised to stay there until she started thinking differently."

"That sounds like it could have gone badly." The large baker added, he hadn't met Kagami often but it was enough to see that she had a particular way of dealing with people that might rub others the wrong way. "What happened next?"

Adrien gave a small chuckle. "Had it been anyone else it probably would have but I think Kagami was a bit more lenient with him for some reason." Shaking his head the boy continued his story. "Since there didn't seem to be any more problems the rehearsal started. The band went through several songs, had to restart a couple of times as some technical issues were worked out and even allowed me to join them for a bit." His smile widened as the excitement of that night came back to him. Tom much prefered that look to the slightly closed off one the boy gave whenever talking about his modelling, well unless it was one of Marinette's designs he was wearing that is. "A few hours later there was much cheering and then we all moved to start taking things down. All except for Faybon and Kagami."

The baker was a bit shocked at that, Faybon always seemed willing to help. "Had he seriously stayed on her lap the entire time?" Tom had to admire the boys dedication. Even pushed together fold out chairs were notoriously uncomfortable to lie on.

The sad smile was back. "Marinette went over to yell at him only for Kagami to stop her. Apparently he'd fallen asleep shortly after she started ignoring him, which was long before the band started playing." Tom had heard some of Kitty Sections music. the idea of sleeping through it seemed impossible.

"He really must have been tired." Still, he wasn't sure why that would cause Adrien to say what he did.

"I think he always is." The boy answered after a moment. "I know what it's like to bounce from one thing to the next, to have to drag yourself out of bed when it's the last thing you feel you can do." Tom understood that. It had taken a while before he had adjusted to the early start the bakery had required of him.

"So you think he's faking his emotions around you then?" Mr Dupain asked hoping for some clarification. He supposed it was possible but it didn't seem likely.

Clearly Adrien agreed. "Not at all." He said with a firm shake of his head. "I have no doubt that the person he shows us is the real Faybon." His voice was clearer now, the worry for his friend starting to shine through. "I think it's much worse. I think he's forcing himself to show us who he is. I think his normal day to day life is so exhausting that his moments of invisibility are him trying to recover. I think that just being normal around us is draining his already empty reserves."

Tom admitted that was an unnerving thought that could explain the moments of emptiness he had seen on the overworked kid. If simply being himself was an effort then it would make sense why he seemed to content to fade into the background when not actively engaged. "If that's true then Ladybug and Chat Noir should stop him from trying to help them so much."

It was an odd place to end the conversation but the mention of Faybon and the heroes seemed to make Adrien uncomfortable. Maybe he hadn't noticed just how often Faybon had been by their side? Or maybe it was more guilt over how hard he was pushing himself. Whatever the reason Tom's view of both the boys had solidified, as well as what he was going to do from now on. Adrien seemed desperate to be heard and appreciated at times and, while the baker would never speak badly of another man's parenting techniques, he knew the pain of a distant father all to well.

As for Faybon? Well, whenever the boy stopped by the bakery in future he was loaded up with all the leftovers they had. And if some of those items weren't actual leftovers and had instead been made solely because of what Marinette said Faybon and the other orphans liked? Well, Faybon didn't need to know that. Soon the boy that had been such a source of worry for Tom was able to walk in and out of the bakery with as little interaction as possible. It wasn't Tom's preferred method of dealing with customers but if cutting out a little bit of conversation allowed Faybon a bit more energy to deal with the rest of his life? Then so be it.

[pbandjesse]

Merry Christmas everybody! Or Mary last night of Hanukkah! Or happy Sunday? Whatever Tony means to you I hope it was a good one. I hope that you stayed warm. I had a really nice day.

We just got home from the Fulwiler's house. And honestly it was a great time. And it started that way too. They came over here, And I got exactly what I wanted, which was the host Christmas in our apartment for once.

I slept okay last night. I I've been very very nauseous and woke up a few times. But when I first went to sleep I was a really cold. I went from very nauseous, to very cold, and so I got my weighted heating pad and slept with that on my back and woke up every time it turned off. But I was good. I felt pretty sounds like. And James woke me up at 8:30 like I asked.

I went and got dressed in my jammies. The show jammies. Not the ones I actually slept in but comfy clothes. And James's parents and sister are going to be here until closer to 10:00 so I have time to eat a snack and James with making biscuits and pancakes and bacon and I decided I was just going to clean up the apartment and then catch up on some knitting.

I just did a little vacuuming and James Clorox a few things. I looked some candles and made it nice in here. We have brought up the camp chair so that we had lots of seating and moved the bikes and some other stuff into the studio. The studio is very full right now. I cannot wait to clean up some of that and clear out the closet some more. There's honestly a lot of organizing I want to do this week now but I have some time off. I am working on Wednesday but that's the only day.

When Tucker, Anne, and Charlotte got there James went to greet them. And I took the knitting into the other room so it wouldn't be everywhere. And it was just a really good day.

We had made a music playlist so that when there were silences it didn't feel silent. And we ate breakfast and talked and well I kind of felt awkward a few times overall it was really good. Sweet pea was a pretty good boy and while James's parents are not great with cats, Charlotte was very excited that sweetp wanted to be friends.

Soon we were opening our stocking gifts. And the layout of it was pretty good this year. I had Charlotte, Charlotte had Tucker, Tucker had Anne, and Anne had James. And I kind of was watching what everyone was getting while I was opening mine and everyone made out really well this year. And I think I did really well because Charlotte kept smiling and showing her mom what she got. And it just felt really good that I gave her stuff that she actually liked and not just a bunch of garbage. She also really liked the turtle enclosure that I made for her desk at the school.

I got some very cool stuff. James got me a bunch of vintage toys and pamphlets. Some recipes and a handbook for women at college from the 1960s. They got me microscope slides and penicillium. Some snacks and a really cool frog ring that I really like. Reminds me of a silver one that my mom had that I think I may have now. And a coach backpack that I really wanted. And it's just a little bit bigger than my leather mini backpack that I already always use. And something I really like about it is that it has the hang strap on the back so you can hook it on to the coat rack or carry it by that because that is one thing that that backpack got used doesn't have. And best of all James filled it with astronaut ice cream. Which is something that I've been asking for for like 6 months. And I was really excited to have. It is not cheap so thank you James I love you very much.

We had biscuits and pancakes and got to try lots of jams. I opened the rest of the advent calendar while they were there and announced what all of the flavors were. And once gifts were done we scratched off some squid facts and Anne got some lottery tickets that she scratched while we were here. And that was very fun. Honestly I was having a great time. It was a great way to start Christmas.

They would chill with us for a while. We cleaned up and packed everybody's stuff in an organized way. And then they headed back to their house to start cooking dinner. And me and James just spend some time decompressing.

James arm hurt them and so they laid in bed in their very cute new hat and slippers. And I laid on the couch and worked on my knitting some more. And watched videos. Eventually though my allergies started catching up on me. That tends to happen at Christmas because the cats get all excited from all the activity and people and their dander gets worse. And so I started sneezing a lot and was very uncomfortable.

So I took an allergy pill and continue to chill but it wasn't helping. So I took a second allergy pill. And I waited while and it wasn't helping. So I thought it would come lay down. I did not smoke. I just scrolled on my phone for an hour. Eventually, in the late afternoon, James made me a quesadilla. And then I was able to fall asleep. I asked them to wake me up at 4:30 so that I could get dressed for dinner.

This was the best plan. When I finally woke up I felt a lot better. I think it gave the allergy pills some time to kick in and I didn't feel like I was dying anymore. I was still pretty sneezy but I would have moments of being okay and that's all I really needed.

We would head to their parent's house and have a surprisingly hard time parking. But we got a spot and then it was Christmas again.

Charlotte made a very pretty charcuterie board. Anne was cooking in the kitchen. Tucker had a very excellent jacket. And we would sit and chat and eventually we finish opening gifts.

I got the Christmas edition of the IKEA bear. I love them a lot. I also got really cool t-shirt from Tucker and a really nice darning tool from James. They had it engraved with a really nice little message. Telling me that they love me. And I'm very excited to get to use it, because I actually was going to try to use the crappy one that I have the other day but it just kept breaking. So I'm hoping that this one works better.

I'm very excited to look at everything I got tomorrow. It's overwhelming today. Like I remember a few high notes but I know I got a lot of other cool stuff. And so I'll pick out some favorites and do a flat leg like I did last year. But just of the specific favorite ones. And it was still fun just watching what everyone else got. And I think James liked the very large squirtle posh I got them. It was really fun. I was just having a really nice time.

And soon Chang's came over and they brought their own gifts. We got a plan from them. And Katie specifically gave me this beautiful felted silk scarf. It's Sari fabric wet felted with merino wool on top. I'm not entirely sure how it came together I'm assuming that the silk fibers were torn in places and were filled in with the wet felt. But it's an incredible piece to feel. There was also snacks and bread that they brought and lots of hugs. Got some really excellent conversations. Both with Katie and with George. We talked about art and internet history and blogs and the nature of loss in the digital age. I also just showed George a bunch of my art on my website. Which I desperately need to update and will be a great project for the new year. But for now it was just really awesome to show my kinetic art to someone who was really interested in it.

Dinner was served around 7. James brought me leftovers from dinner last night. Since there isn't a ton I can eat at their traditional one. I did really enjoy Katie's salad again, I believe the same one from Thanksgiving. We had Christmas crackers. We wore crowns. We read jokes. The crackers also traditionally have a toy, like a yoyo or a puzzle or a kazoo. But for some very strange reason, even though everyone else got a normal prize, mine had nail clippers in it??? It was hilarious to me. Absolutely absurd.

Dinner was fun. Figgy pudding continues to be weird and disappointing. But also has non vegetarian stuff in it so I mostly just picked the raisins out. I liked when it was on fire, though a glass of red wine was knocked over and caused a calamity. And then Tucker knocked champagne over and the glass shattered. Oops. There were lots of laughs. Some serious talk. We talked about jobs and COVID and money and toasted to just about everything. And I felt warm and loved.

James started getting tired and over sore around 930. Which is totally fair. And texted me to let me know. I was ready to go whenever. Christmas is for them, I hold no expectations. I am just happy to be there. And I'm just as happy to go home.

So there were many hugs. And a few last minute pictures. And then we were back out into the cold.

Me and James got home. And brought everything upstairs. And fed the pets and put the paper crowns on Sweetp and now we are winding down. I am going to go wash my face and get cozy. We have the next two days off together and I'm looking forward to preparing for the end of the year. Whatever that might mean.

I hope you all have a beautiful day. Celebrated or not, I hope you felt love and a little bit of kindness. Goodnight everyone. Sleep well. Stay warm. And wash your hands.

[flyingfitandsugarfree]

Speculating why I binge

I just had a mini-binge, which I managed to stop when I started to feel nauseous, but still involved breaking into a sealed box of treats I was intending to send to my family, knowing I'll have to now re-buy all those treats that I don't have money for lmao fucking continued it right after posting this. I didn't want any of the food in there. I looked at it all and thought to myself "God, I don't even want any of this". But still I ate it.

Some thoughts on why that might be:

My day's been a muddle of doing bits and pieces of things with no clear separation of tasks, which has made me feel like I've not done anything (despite the fact I've done lots of Japanese listening practice). A binge has broken up my day.

I'm also just generally understimulated because I've been sat in once spot all day (thanks to living in an apartment that is more or less a single room)

Struggling to otherwise initiate tasks: I have some ideas of things I want to do, but because I struggle with executive function. Eating is a very easy and almost habitual reaction at this point

I think the solution to these problems is to come up with a new transitional activity. Something I train myself to do automatically when it's time to change tasks. Something that requires minimal effort and isn't dependent on technology or internet connection or weather. Something that I don't have to waste any brain power on. Something that requires some kind of stimulation when I'm feeling understimulated.

Maybe get a glass of water?

Hmm. I'll think about it.

[mistergoddess]

absolutely petrified to take 1 day off work even though i am experiencing burnout to the degree it's become physically taxing... extreme clumsiness and brain fog and so completely drained and fatigued and nauseous and headachey so like at this point i am physically ill from it. and mentally i fear for myself if i keep going like this. because work has been so fucking awful lately and it's starting to show up very much in my mental wellbeing. and ive called out maybe once every TWO months ive worked here, so that means in 8 months ive taken like 4 sick days, but ive caught major shit for it every time (despite the fact that there are other people who call out like every other day) and i don't trust myself to not just go "ok then i quit good luck covering the next 3 weeks of closing shifts i was scheduled on" if they try to say shit over me taking one day off.

also i wasn't even scheduled to fucking work on tuesday and they changed it on like... sunday... with no notice, did not ask if i was available, just changed it, right before the week started... which is such a dick move. the other day one of my coworkers was checking out the new layout and was like "this is on purpose to make people miserable so they quit and they can get new people in" and i was like you're so fucking real for that because ever since the change i've been just miserable coming in because it's so awful and poorly thought out by these idiot managers who don't actually work there and just moved shit around willy nilly and made it so inefficient and frustrating and brutal and idfk like non-ergonomic to work like this...

so that, and then this week the incidents of 1) random new lady just wandering up to me and starting to follow me around... only for a while into it for her to go "oh yeah i'm here for training" and it was just like oh that's cool i would have really loved to be mentally prepared for that in any way at all and not just have someone kinda walk up and start staring at me like wtf am i supposed to do with that like just??? assume i'm supposed to train her? tf?? and it was LATE in the shift too like i was in clutch closing duties time like. absolutely mind boggling and infuriating. that a manager couldn't even come over and be like oh hey by the way this is so and so can you just show her shit for a while and have her help you close... like NOTHINGGG she just came up and didn't say anything and started just following me and looking at me. and then the second incident 2) changing my off days randomly at the LAST minute before the week starts... just fucking DISRESPECTFUL. those two disrespectful ass things happening on top of the first week of the new layout which is making working my station incredibly brutal and difficult has made it such a miserable time when up until now i've LIKED this job and now i feel like im going to flip the fuck out and have a panic attack at work and quit on the spot and make a big scene about it any day now.

so. ugh. i'm really doing rough and experiencing very clear burnout and i need to quit but i don't have the energy to job hunt while working here but i definitely can't quit first with no other plan and just be unemployed on the job hunt because that's risky boots so like... idfk what to do. gonna try to stick it out a lil bit but i need to be trying to look for smth else :( i need something that pays more and well. i can't really hope for better management in this city lol i get the sense that kind of everywhere you go bosses are going to be psycho. also like everyone i know is always jobhunting even tho theyre looking for the same shit i do and that worries and weirds me out but i also think theyre just being really selective and not taking the kind of garbage i would... but anyway if i could get something that pays a lil more and has a more consistent schedule/better hours then well :/ that'd be nice at least...

but i'm super scared it's fucking scary i do not have that dog in me to hustle in this city lol i just took the first really crap big chain hospitality job that was easy to get, but up until this week at least ive liked it :( and the commute is easy and i get so much free food which is pretty much the only way i can afford to work here... and i like the people i work with a lot :'( and the shift leads are fine, it's just management that's fucking awful and SO stupid and neurotic and unfair. and our customers kinda suck dick bc they're hella stupid rude stressed out asshole big groups big families tourists and i'd love to be somewhere where the clientele is a little less of a shitty demographic.. and the being in weird half closeted limbo at work is rough lol. and also closing my specific station is fucking grueling and exhausting as hell so it's not particularly easy work...

like :( all signs point to i gotta get the hell outta here pretty soon but im soooo scared <3 i do not want to job hunt <3 especially with burnout <3 i am in a bad position <3 bc if i quit rn i'm gonna need time to recover from burnout and historically that's taken me a little while and we ARE NOT IN MY HOME TOWN ANYMORE TOTO I CANNOT JUST CHILL FOR A BIT IN BETWEEN JOBS I DO NOT HAVE A SUPPORT SYSTEM HERE *AT ALL* OR EVEN FRIENDS AND IT'S TOO EXPENSIVE TO JUST LIVE OFF MY SAVINGS FOR A FEW MONTHS... so that'd be really stressful and bad to have no time to recover from burnout and have to try to find something new right away... but also if i just idk stay... i'm just gonna go nuts from the burnout getting too bad and quit anyway like i'm not gonna recover if i just stay. so i'll be in the same if not a worse position... so idk what to do... lmaooo........

but oughh ok yeah i'm so scared and hesitant to call out which is such a clear sign it's such a toxic workplace :/ but also i don't wanna lose tips that day :/ but i'm gonna have to suck it up it'd be all of like $20 less so whatever i have paid sick hours so i need to get over the slight paycheck loss of tips for ONE day real quick bc i need that day so much more than i need the $20 (i do need the $20 too) so really the only fear is gEtTiNg iN tRoUbLe... i'm just gonna tell them i'm going to kms if they don't let me have a mental health day idk no matter what i have to stick to my guns and not grit my teeth and force myself to go in i need to just call in sick because fuuuuck

[funkylittledemon]

autism and emotions is so.... well it fucking sucks is what it is. i need my mind to slow down for a second to get all these thoughts down bc i will explode if i dont get them out there (hence why this post - only bee is gonna see this & knows me enough to be worried for more than an hour or so and if i put this where nobody can see it aint actually out there) (wassup bee dw i am okay)

anyway

i say that life is just getting to me rn and it is but thats too vague a statement. current affairs (an impartial term but a useful one here) are getting to me - I'm trying to navigate adulthood while it feels like the life i was promised is being taken away by whatever event you want to pick; global warming, late-stage capitalism, multiple genocides, the list goes on. and I'm one of the lucky ones!! how fucked up is that! so there's that constant stress hanging above my head.

then there's more abstract life: navigating uni and living alone and looking after myself while forming relationships and starting to try carve a path for myself. this one isn't as bad but still can't be ignored and the fact that interpersonal relationships have become so scrutinised through social media doesn't help. no matter the insecurity you have or your own specific factors there will be someone online telling you your worst fears are right - i cant say how many times ive scrolled past a reel saying that i havent had a message back because "he" doesn't care. does the person saying this even know I've seen it, let alone who i am or who "he" is? No!! but the sentiment sticks with you despite only seeing it for 3 seconds before scrolling on, despite logically knowing it can't apply to me because its a catch-all statement to everyone who feels insecure pushed onto us by an algorithm that thinks we want to hear that. social media is feeding into our fears and insecurities and we can't stop it. as an autistic person whos insecure as fuck and who knows they dont understand a lot of societal cues being told by some random person that im right to be insecure really doesn't help - i get the idea of something stuck in my head and bc i know its bs i try get it out which cements it further into my mind and lends it credence.

then there's uni itself - i am now faced with the realisation that everything leading me up to uni and my course has been about me helping other people, often to my own detriment. i chose a counselling course because i was always the therapist friend, the one who everyone else went to for help. and wouldn't you know it I've been burnt out for years and literally don't have it in me to help strangers, or give a shit about their lives. i cared so much and made my entire life about helping other people that i had no idea what i wanted to do. im switching to just psychology now, because it is interesting and i do enjoy it but im kind of lost now i dont have that purpose. it also scares me just how much of my life hadn't been about me at all and im still not sure who i am if im not helping someone. obviously thats the dramatic version but you get the gist. uni's been a wakeup call i wasn't prepared for and theres the work and exams on top of that

christ this is long. okay. what else was there. emotions. god i hate emotions. this is the hard bit. all my emotions are so so big and i am so so small and it feels like they would devour me whole if they could. anxiety is a big one. recently pretty much all ive been feeling is anxiety - a deep anxiety that makes me nauseous pretty much 24/7. last week on friday i had what i call a breakdown. i still dont understand it (which is scary enough - every other breakdown i can disect and point to the cause). i just sarted screaming in the middle of the street and couldn't stop and its making me anxious just typing this up. then there was a day of panic attack after panic attack (lost count after the 4th i think) and then a few days later and some bad decisions (booze. ik i shouldn't have drank but i thought i was ok to drink) i had another breakdown. i dont remember much of this one but it ended in me being locked out and sobbing - security had to let me in and it must've been bad bc the guy gave me a card with hotlines on it. (again, i am okay). i lost my leather jacket that night which both sucks bc i loved that jacket and also the fact that it's gone is a constant reminder of something im ashamed of. after that it was just this constant nauseating anxiety, occasionally spiralling into something more but not significant enough to include. the thing about me and emotions is that my strategy for dealing with them is to ignore and repress them until they're not my problem anymore. which is bad. but idk how to cope with them healthily and when i feel okay i never know if its because i repressed them again or because i genuinely feel okay. being around other people helps but thats probably not a great thing - i hide my emotions from other people to avoid being a burden. not that its always a bad thing that my friends make me feel better its just not a sustainable approach to constantly avoid being alone. i have this constant struggle of feeling emotions so intensely then feeling shame because of how intensely i felt those emotions or how they made me act.

going on from emotions fucking me over and moving on from Life being an issue anxiety is a fucking bitch. all my life I've felt like an outsider and so constantly nervous about everything. it was hell and then in 6th form i made friends who were so so confident and i finally started to relax a little bit more and not feel bad about taking up space. uni was even better! i had flatmates i loved and i was going out doing things I'd never dreamed of and i was making friends!! i barely recognised myself and i loved it!! then the breakdown happened and i was plunged headfirst back into the old cycle of anxiety and going back to that after feeling what life could be like? that was worse than the breakdown. it feels like ive never felt worse and the knowledge that theres no reason for it, that nothing had actually changed other than me and i could still be out there with confidence but i wasn't was such a crushing feeling it felt like i was never gonna feel okay again. dramatic i know but the truth.

im home for easter break now and typing this out has helped and going back to my old stomping grounds has shown me i have still changed and i do still have the confidence even if i couldn't access it for a hot min. I'm still anxious but thats okay. my emotions don't have an all poweful spell over me and anxiety can suck my dick. there's still the fear that I'll go back to uni and it'll all come rushing back however im just gonna see how this break goes. im gonna be alone whether i like it or not while im down here and if i can manage to be okay with that then I'll be fine. and i do have a support system both here and up at university.