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#I was literally just telling my counselor that I feel like I’ve never had the ‘years of plenty’
aceofstars16 · 4 months
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It’s 7:30 in the morning and I’m exhausted but I don’t know if I’ll be able to fall asleep again any time soon….
It’s like I was *just* starting to heal from having my heart and trust shattered 3 years ago, and now it’s happening all again, only this time I don’t have the church to go to for comfort/prayer/encouragement. And instead of a friendship I had for 2-3 years, it’s a church I’ve been going to for TWENTY TWO YEARS
I feel like I’m living in the twilight zone, this can’t actually be happening, right?
(I’m not okay, I keep crying and I just want to wake up from this nightmare)
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dazed--xx · 10 months
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SKZ reaction: S/O has childhood trauma (Hyung Line)
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T/W: mentions of childhood trauma, mentions of bullying, mentions of abandonment, mentions of dead best friend, mentions of neglect, arguments, crying etc…
A/N: I’ll be posting the rest of the members soon then I will be posting the Jeongin angst request next then chapter 2 of one more time then I’ll start posting Cardinal, thank you so much for the support and requests are open
Chan: school bullying
“I JUST DON’T GET YOU!!” He shouted, veins popping out of his neck as he stared at you in anger. Your bottom lip trembled between your teeth as you held onto your weak figure. You couldn’t even figure out what set Chan off, but he was utterly pissed. “Chan what are you talking about? That’s all I’ve been trying to figure out why are you yelling at me?” You exclaim after 30 minutes of his ranting your voice shaky, eyes burning from tears as your boyfriend spewed venom in your direction about how inconsiderate and disrespectful you are. He growls as he pulls a magazine out from the coffee table you had never noticed he had placed there. “Stray Kids Chan GF sends threatening messages to old schoolmates?!” The headline reads. Your eyes widen in shock “C-Chan I can explain this!” You defend yourself. “Explain? How the hell do you expect to explain this?! How can you justify any of this? You called my fan a hopeless despicable piece of crap and that she deserves the shitty life she lives now! How can you sit there and act like that’s not a problem!” He growled, tossing his phone across the room the case shattering as it hit the wall.
A panicked squeal is released from your throat as your hands cover your ears and you drop to the ground. You head shakes rapidly as you stared at your boyfriend. “You’re irresponsible and completely fucking stupid to do something like this! What the hell went through your head?! Did you even think?” He continues, your anger bubbling up in your stomach as he continues to throw harsh insults toward you. “ITS WHAT SHE FUCKING DESERVED! HOW DARE SOMEONE THAT FUCKING TORTURED ME FOR YEARS!!! YEARS OF MY LIFE! SHE DESTROYED MY SELF ESTEEM, SHE HAD ME LOCKED IN A STORAGE CLOSET FOR A WHOLE WEEKEND! SHE CUT MY HAIR AND MY ARMS AND THEN TOLD THE COUNSELORS I WAS SUICIDAL SO ID GET LOCKED IN A PSYCH WARD! SO YEAH, I FUCKING SAID WHAT I ALWAYS WANTED TO SAY WHEN SHE TEXTED ME ASKING ME FOR MONEY! MONEY TALKING ABOUT HOW MUCH I OWE HER MY LIFE BECAUSE SHE WANTED TO KILL ME BUT DIDN’T BECAUSE SHE FIGURED ID BE USEFUL LATER IN LIFE! SO, FUCK YOU BANG CHAN! YOU DIDN’T EVEN ASK ME WHAT HAPPENED! YOU DIDN’T CARE SO YOU CAN GO FUCK YOURSELF ALONG WITH YOUR LITTLE FAN THAT THREATENED ME AGAIN!” You snap, venom spewing toward him as he stood there his mouth hung open in shock as guilt filled his eyes. “Babe…” he called an apology on the tip of his tongue as he made his way across the room “I-I didn’t know—y-you never told me—I’m sorry I’m so fucking sorry” he cried as you held your hand up toward him stopping his march in your direction “Please just…just give me a second I thought out of anyone in this world if anyone would understand anything it would be you but you didn’t even give me a chance to tell you what I did literally last night. And I just I can’t believe you would say those things about me please Chris just—just leave me alone for a bit” you explained tiredly as you made your way to your bedroom leaving your boyfriend in the living room with guilt plastered on his features and sadness in his heart.
Minho:death of best friend
“I-Is it nearby or do we have to keep going?” Minho questions, you could feel his nerves from beside him as you point to a small light a few yards away. “It’s at that light” you smile at him gripping his hand. You felt nervous, you’ve never brought anyone here, to your safe space. You stare at the man beside you, your heart races at how ethereal and beautiful he truly was. You’ve never known anyone so understanding, so deeply determined to get to know you for you. You couldn’t understand him at first but now as you stare at him you can. You can understand the want; the yearning feeling of wanting to know every single thing about someone you love. You’re pulled out of your thoughts as you feel Minho’s arm wrap around your shoulders pulling you into him. “You okay, precious?” He questions, concern laced in his tone as a pout form on his lips. You nod a small smile form on your lips “I’m okay…… just lucky to have you” you confess as your hand wraps around his pulling him toward your destination.
A small giggle is released from Minho’s lips as his legs speed up to keep up with your pace. Finally, you reach the small angel light seated on top of a marble headstone. Your smile grows wider as Minho kneels in-front of the stone placing a page of sheet music, “your song is beautiful” he states “I hope you don’t mind that you don’t mind that I sang it to Y/N, so she’d go out with me. It really spoke to me and explained how I feel about her.” He apologizes softly. “O-Oh! I’m Lee Minho, I forgot to tell you who I am.” You stare at your best friend's grave. “He’d be happy you came honestly I talk about you all the time.” You confess. “Is it inappropriate for me to ask where his family is?” Minho questions. “His mother still comes to see him every day. His dad can’t.” You explain, as you look at your boyfriend “too much guilt, me and his dad were the ones that found him” Minhos eyebrows scrunch together in confusion “H-how did you say he died again?” You shook your head “I didn’t. He committed…you know when we were 14. He had gotten into this huge fight with his dad about wanting to go to a music high school and came to my house crying when his parents showed up to my place he just disappeared, and we found him a week later in our clubhouse in my backyard. I could have sworn I checked there every day until we found him but yeah.”
You feel a strong hand gripping yours as you eye your boyfriend “I’ll make sure she’s okay. She’s going to be okay with me, so I’ll come see you again. And if you want, I’ll make sure your music gets heard. I-I’m an idol I can do that for you, my leader Chan really liked your song. We’ll make sure you’re not forgotten.” He states to your friends' grave as pride swells in your chest. “Thank you for coming with me” you state with a peck to his cheek. “Thanks for letting me” he beams at you.
Changbin: neglect
“I just don’t get why it’s such a big deal?” Changbin questions his tone laced with sadness as a sigh is released from your throat. “I just don’t like my family Bin, they’re not good people and to know that they tracked you down makes me extremely uncomfortable.” Your voice is shaky as the memories come flooding back into your brain. “What happened?” His voice is only barely above a whisper as he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you into his strong figure. “They’re just not good people. Please understand that at least.” You groan your hand rubbing against his forearms. “If you’re not ready to tell me that’s fine babe I just want to make sure they didn’t hurt you. T-they didn’t hurt you right?” He asks almost as if the answer would hurt him. The question left you puzzled. Did they hurt you……… Not physically, they’d have to actually be around for you to be physically hurt; no, you weren’t beaten by your parents. Sure, they rarely were home, but they never laid a hand on you. For a while you and your birth givers were quite…. cohesive. They’d leave enough food for you to make sure you didn’t die, nothing that was hugely sustainable, but you had been able to figure it out. From a young age, you knew how to shop for your own groceries, make money, apply for government assistance and just get by. You were sustainably independent all from the ripe age of 6 years old. Honestly you couldn’t for a moment remember a single conversation with your parents where you weren’t reminded of how unimportant you were in their lives.
You shook your head after some time. “Not physically no” your eyes drift to the ground. You feel your hair being brushed to the side as Changbin placed his chin on your shoulder. “You don’t have to say anything else if you don’t want to….” His grip on you tightens “I love you; you know that right?” You nod in response “I love you too, but I want to tell you. They just didn’t really act like I existed; they made sure I had just enough food to not die but nothing enough to actually help me feel okay. When I turned 6, they just stopped coming home every night and I’d see them once a week maybe…. I don’t know I just—they made sure I knew that I was a mistake I guess and I just kind of figured everything out on my own.” You confess. Your head hung low as your boyfriend rubbed your hair. You could hear his breathing grow heavy as his grip on you tightens “well you’re not a mistake to me, I love you so much and I’m happy that I have you and you have me too, okay? I will never hurt you in anyway” he declares pressing his lips against the back of your head as you nuzzle against his strong frame.
Hyunjin: abandonment
“Come on! Please just talk to me” Hyunjin pleas behind your front door. You sat with your blood boiling; arms crossed over your chest at his nerve; the audacity of this man to have disappeared for 5 months only to try to saunter back into your life like nothing happened. The fact that he couldn’t answer your calls or texts nor the final voicemail you had left for him ending your 2-year relationship said everything about how he feels. You couldn’t for the life of you understand why he finally decided your presence was once again needed. The pounding on the door intensifies as your nerves grow weaker and weaker. With a growl to yourself you force yourself up from your seat in your couch and stomp your way over to your door, forcing it open so hard it almost comes off its hinges. “What?! What could you possibly want?!” You snap, you notice the guilt and sorrow all over his features. His lips formed into a pout as he reached out for you only for you to slap his hands away. “I asked you a question, Hyunjin” your eyes form into a scowl as you cross your arms over your chest as you glare at your ex. “Babe…come on—don’t call me that!” You growl.
The look on Hyunjins face is almost as heartbreaking as his abandonment. “W-what?! Babe please let’s just talk about this! I just heard your voicemail. I’m sorry I’m so sorry please I don’t want to break up!” He pleads upon deaf ears; you scoff in response “you should have thought about that before you disappeared for 5 months Hyunjin. Doing whatever the fuck you were doing!” “I WAS ON TOUR! You figured that out at some point, right?” He argues “yeah… through fucking dispatch I found out you were in America after 3 MONTHS! 3 MONTHS OF NO CLUE WHAT WAS GOING ON! 3 MONTHS OF COMPLETE AND UTTER CONFUSION HYUNJIN!!—Sshhh please don’t be so loud” he cuts you off gesturing you to go into your apartment, his hands firm on your waist shoving you softly back. Your hands find their way to his chest as you shove him out the door. “No! You don’t get to come in here! You don’t get to waltz back into my life after I’ve already became okay with you not being in it anymore! You’re just like my parents; you used me up until I had nothing left to offer you then you just tossed me to the side like I am nothing! Well, I do mean something, and you can’t just abandon me and then show up when it’s convenient for you! I’m tired of shit like that happening and I won’t allow YOU to do that to me!” You growl. Tears stream down Hyunjins face “I didn’t—I didn’t mean to. I-I know it doesn’t mean anything but please know I thought about you the whole time I begged my manager for a new phone so I could call you because I left mine here! Please don’t break up with me I want to be with you!” He cries as he dropped to his knees his arms wrapping around your waist as he buried his face in your stomach “I’d never abandon you! I could never abandon you I love you I love you so much please I didn’t know what your parents did I don’t want to leave. I’m sorry” you stared at the man whose heart lay on the floor. With gritted teeth you sigh “fine come inside but don’t think I’m not still mad at you” he nods quickly hoping to his feet before wrapping his hand around yours pulling you into his large frame. You feel butterflies as the familiar feeling of his soft plush lips connected with yours, putting every ounce of emotion into his kiss. Your cheeks grow a bright scarlet as he pulls away, a small smile creeps on your lips. “Still mad?” He questions jokingly. You scowl at him “don’t push it.”
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meganwasbored · 10 months
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The Dragon Prince Thoughts Season 4 Episodes 3 and 4
Episode 3
-he’s really pretending to read a black page in a book just to not look at her
-you’re telling me callum was really able to fall asleep after all that?
-so you had this in your back pocket but instead you went with “hey”
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-with her bare hand?? that love right there
-she’s gonna be gone when he wakes up AGAIN??? girl where are you even going
-soren being soren
-i hope we get to hear zym talk someday because i’m thinking about all the possibilities for what his voice might sound like and all of them are hilarious
-if the passageway is opened by a dragon sized button why are there human sized stairs leading down into it
-ibis’s timing is always impeccable
-i love how bait is there for literally everything like he even had his own seat at the council table i wonder if it was like this when bait was harrow’s pet
-ok everything else that went wrong today was an accident but the painting was definitely sabotaged something strange is going on here
-claudia pulling a jafar
-an eleven year old just gave that speech
-IBIS DID NOT JUST DIE TAKE THAT BACK
-THERE IS SO MUCH HAPPENING RIGHT NOW
-CRYING
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-OMG HES ALIVE DOES THAT MEAN HES GONNA MAKE IT???
-NOOOOOOO
-RAYLA WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING HERE THIS IS NOT THE TIME
-WOAH HE CAN DO THAT THATS SO COOL BUT ALSO HE JUST DIED THIRTY SECONDS AGO SO IM HAVING SOME VERY MIXED FEELINGS
Episode 4
-UHHHHHHHH WHY IS CALLUM IN THE SPARKLY PLACE NOW
-oh you can already tell that ezran is gonna be their marriage counselor from this point on
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-zym hiding like 8 year old me getting picked up from my friend’s house
-viren contributing absolutely nothing like dude they could’ve done that while you were still dead
-WHAT DOES THIS MEAN
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WHY DID IT CUT TO THIS AFTER SHE SAID THAT
-i love opeli so much but why is she so insistent that ezran leaves?? like i’ve never seen her smile so much in any other scene?? she just found out the world is once again in danger and she’s happy??
-OMG DO YOU THINK SHE HAD SOMETHING TO DO WITH THE PAINTING
-stop it megan now you’re just grasping at straws
-why is ezran so chill about literally everything like rayla randomly shows up after two years of nothing and he’s just like “of course you’re coming hop on”
-also rayla apologized to ezran the second she saw him but she hasn’t bothered to apologize to callum??? as in the one she actually wronged??? and she’s expecting him to be cool with that???
-girl you could’ve just asked him if he can go start the flame a safe distance away from camp?? like can you at least try to come to a compromise?? this is why y’all were thrown out in the first place
-this is foreshadowing if i’ve ever seen it and i DO NOT LIKE IT
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-Luna Tenebris is such a cool name like that alone tells me how awesome she was
-“a young human girl uncovered a great secret of history” and yet she’s not important enough to remember her name?
-my question is what does aaravos get out of all this? why did he start doing this in the first place?
-Terry buddy if anyone can help claudia at this point it’s you i’m sorry you even got dragged into this
-“I have always been willing to do anything to protect my family, however dangerous, however vile” oh so that why you told soren that it doesn’t matter if he died and tried to use him as your guinea pig for the weird demon-hulk-soldier spell?
-SAYS THE MAN WHO HAD A PANIC ATTACK ABOUT A LITTLE MOUNTAIN
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-OH I REALLY REALLY DONT LIKE WHERE THIS IS GOING
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-my question is why would they write “in darkness, gaze upon a fallen star” on the mirror like that just makes aaravos sound like a savior or something
-you’re really scared of a little spell? why don’t you take your own advice and get a grip?
-HE CANT BREATHE WHY ARE YOU ALL JUST STANDING THERE HELP HIM
-OH THE CREATURE IS WORSE THAN I IMAGINED
-HE CAN SHATTER THE MIRROR???
-SERIOUSLY HIS SOUL CAN GO OUTSIDE OF THE MIRROR HE CAN POSSESS PEOPLE OUTSIDE OF THE MIRROR AND NOW HE CAN SHATTER THE MIRROR??? HAS HE ALWAYS BEEN ABLE TO DO THIS???
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lordofthenerds97 · 1 year
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Wasting Away: Chapter 5
Rating: M for eventual chapters, mild cursing, and nonexplicit sexual content Pairing: Eddie x Reader, Past Billy x Reader, and onesided Steve x Reader if you squint Summary: You were broken. Falling apart. Trying to put yourself back together. Whatever the hell they wanted to call it. All you knew was you were hurting. The Upside Down had been the bane of your existence for a long time. But now you had a reason to hate it. Will your hatred be enough to help take down the latest in a long line of monsters? TW FOR THIS CHAPTER: •Mentions of suicide •Unhealthy coping mechanisms (borderline Bulimia, other eating disorders) • Reader has flashbacks/mild panic attack Masterlist
With a frustrated sigh, you crumpled the note and chucked it at the nearby trash can. 
They just didn’t seem to get the hint. 
Ms. Kelly had left yet another note in your locker. This time, there was a veiled threat of expulsion should you not follow directions. She was again insisting that you see her. 
Both you and your parents had explained that you had no desire to see a school’s counselor when you were seeking help from an actual professional. But they didn’t seem to get the message. 
It made you more angry than anything. 
You slammed the locker door shut and stalked towards the counselor’s office. Your knuckles turned white as you gripped the strap of the bag slung over your shoulder. You had to remind yourself to take deep breaths to try and calm the rage that was boiling up inside you. 
As you stepped down the few stairs, you saw that the door to her office was open. Taking the opportunity, you stalked inside. 
“Oh, I’m so glad you’re-“ 
“Look,” you interrupted with a scowl. “I’ve told you and I’ve told the principal; I’m not going to see you for counseling. I’m seeing an actual therapist. She’s helping me. I’m coping. I’m grieving. So leave me the hell alone. I’m gonna have my bad days and not be able to get myself out of bed to come to school. I’m not going to force myself, either.” 
She blinked quickly a couple times, looking taken aback by your outburst. “I think if you just let me-“ 
“I swear to god, if you try to talk me into coming to talk to you, I’m walking out this door and never coming back. To you or this school.” 
Ms. Kelly took a deep breath. “Can I ask you a question?” 
You rolled your eyes. “You already did. But fine.” 
“Why are you so against talking to me.” 
Letting out a huff, you gave her a blank stare. “I literally just told you. I’m seeing a therapist. Someone who can actually help me.” 
“What makes you think I can’t?” 
“Because as much as you like to think you do, you have no idea what the hell you’re doing. You’re going to tell me literally the same thing every other person does; to get out of the house, spend time with my friends, get back into the world. I’m sorry Miss Kelly, but you have no clue what I’m dealing with. You don’t know the burdens I carry, the guilt I feel, or the pain I have.” 
She opened her mouth to answer, but you kept right on going. 
“I think you want to do your best to help, but you’re not fully equipped. How do you help kids with PTSD? How do you help someone who had another person die in their arms? How do you help someone who’s seen so much shit that they can’t sleep…and when they do, they’re plagued with nightmares? How do you look someone in the eyes and tell them that the world they knew is gone forever? How do you teach someone to trust again? How do you help someone with a mind so broken that they think the only way to fix it is to kill themselves? If you can answer those questions, Miss Kelly, then I’ll gladly sit down and pour my heart out to you.” 
She looked taken aback, and for a moment, you felt a little guilty for the onslaught. 
“I didn’t realize you were dealing with all of that…I’m so sorry.” 
You sighed. “There’s a lot about me you, and everyone else, don’t know.” Tears had welled up in your eyes but you managed to blink them back. “I know you want to help, I don’t fault you for that. But, please…let me get the help I need. And please stop trying to pressure me into talking to you.” 
She hugged her arms around her middle as a guilty expression took over her face. “I’m sorry. Of course, if what you’re doing is helping you, keep doing it. You’re right…I can’t answer those questions. But eventually, I’d like to learn how.” 
You nodded. “Thank you. I appreciate it. And…thank you for trying to help Max. I know she’s a tough nut to crack, but she needs it.” 
“Of course. And…thank you for seeing me and explaining this to me. You’ve helped me understand a lot. Thank you.” 
Giving her another curt nod, you turned on your heel and headed back in the direction you’d come from. You had to take a deep breath to keep the tears back as you walked. Your sneakered feet would squeak every once in a while with a step. 
Right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot. 
Another deep breath.
Right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot. 
Breathe.
“I love you trouble. I’m sorry…” 
You faltered, your injured leg shaking under your weight. 
Grunting quietly, you forced yourself to recover, the muscles screaming in protest. 
“You okay sweetheart?” 
Turning your head slightly to the right, you saw Eddie approaching you with a concerned look on his face. “Yeah, just an old injury that hasn’t healed.” 
He frowned. “What happened?” 
“I got impaled by a piece of rebar in one of the many explosions in the mall.” The lie slipped easily from your lips, and you had to force yourself not to wince. You didn’t want to lie to him. 
“Damn. Yet another badass moment.” 
You snorted and rolled your eyes. “Morning, Eddie.” 
At that, he grinned. “Morning sweetheart. How was your night?” 
A half shrug was your answer. “Better than normal but still not great.” 
His concern was back in an instant. His brows furrowed and he examined your face closely. “Need to talk about it?” he asked gently. 
“Another nightmare. I didn’t wake up screaming this time, which was nice. But I woke up at 3:27 and wasn’t able to go back to sleep.” 
He hummed quietly. “I’m sorry. Did you at least make yourself some breakfast?” 
You were quiet, deciding the floor was more interesting than his face. 
“Sweetheart?” 
“No…” you mumbled. 
He chuckled. “I figured as much. I stopped at Terry’s on the way.” He pulled his hands out from behind his back, holding up two white paper bags. “Breakfast sandwich or a burrito?” 
Your eyes lit up and you grinned at him. “You didn’t have to do that, Eddie.” 
He smiled at you. “I know. But I wanted to. So, sandwich or burrito?” 
“Burrito please.” 
His smile didn’t leave his face as he handed you the bag in his left hand. He watched as you quickly unwrapped the burrito and took a few bites. “Dusty told me you haven’t been eating like you should. We’re gonna change that.” 
You paused mid bite, looking at him with a raised eyebrow as your mouth had began to clamp down around the tortilla. “What?” you mumbled.
He laughed. “You’re cute when you’re befuddled.” 
Swallowing, you glared at him. “I’m not cute!” you protested. Then you paused. “Did you just say befuddled?” 
His grin widened. “I did.” 
Now, it was your turn to laugh. The glare melted away as the humor of the sentence hit you. “Who says befuddled?” 
“I do!” 
You shook your head at him and turned back to your burrito. He was right…you were hungry. And the caffeine high you were on was slowly fading away. You were going to need something to help keep your energy up. 
“I’m serious though, sweetheart.” 
You stifled a sigh and continued eating, allowing him to plead his case. 
“Trust me, I know the feeling. I barely ate for weeks after mom and Casey died, Hardly even enough to keep me from starving. Lost a lot of weight and muscle. Almost got my ass hauled to an institute for attempted suicide. My Uncle helped me get straightened out. Now, I can tell you don’t look like yourself. Dusty said you’ve lost some more weight, too. I know you don’t want to eat…sometimes the thought of it even makes you sick, right?” 
Looking at the floor again, you nodded. Sometimes even though you hadn’t eaten in more than 24 hours and you were actually hungry, the thought of forcing down food made you want to puke. It sent a small shudder down your spine just thinking about it. 
“We’re gonna work on that. Breakfast is a start.” He smiled gently at you, nudging your arm and making you look up at him. “You know, I can see why Dustin calls you Bambi. Those doe eyes are adorable.” 
You rolled your eyes and snorted. “Thanks,” you mumbled. “Actually, it came from a DnD campaign. I got polymorphed into a doe. And then I got hunted.” 
Eddie couldn’t help it. He let out a loud laugh. “My god, sweetheart.” 
You smacked his arm. “It wasn’t my fault! I was trying to fight the Hydra that was attacking Will and Lucas!” 
He shook his head. “How the hell do you get polymorphed and not realize it?” 
You glared, knowing full well how. “Dusty is a sneaky little bastard.” 
“Who said what about me?” 
Both you and Eddie turned to see Dustin walking up with a grin. 
“I said you’re a sneaky little bastard!” you said, giving him the side eye. 
“That’s me!” 
Eddie couldn’t stop chuckling. “He really is though. Puts up quite a fight in my campaigns.” 
Rolling your eyes, you finished the last of your burrito and threw the wrapper into a trash can not far from you. “If you two will excuse me, I’ve got to find Max.” 
“I’ll catch up with you at lunch, Bambi. I need some help with some Lit homework if you don’t mind.” 
You nodded. “Sure.” 
Eddie raised an eyebrow. “The smartass needs help with homework?” 
Dustin shoved him slightly, but Eddie didn’t even budge, just smirked at the teenager in front of him. 
The thought made you stop for a moment. It made you wonder briefly what was stopping Eddie from graduating. You knew he’d flunked his senior year a couple times, so that put his age right around 19 to 20. Judging by his appearance, you’d guess closer to 20. Not wanting to bring it up in front of Dustin, or for fear of embarrassing him, you let the thought go. But you made a mental note to cautiously ask him about it later. 
“I’ll see you guys.” 
~*~*~*~ 
It didn’t take you long to find Max. After hunting for a few minutes, you found her sitting outside on top of one of the picnic tables in the shade. She had the headphones of her Walkman covering her ears, and you could make out the lyrics of Running Up That Hill. Glancing down at your watch, you saw there was about 15 minutes before classes started. 
You made your way over to her, dropping your bag on the ground beside hers and plopping onto the table top. She looked up when she felt the wood move before doing a double take when she realized who had sat down. 
“Hey, Max.” 
“Hey,” she greeted. “What’s up?” 
You sighed. “I’m sorry.” 
She frowned, confused. “What? Why?” 
Turning to fully face her, you tucked one leg under the other. “I know I haven’t been there for you…I know you’re dealing with your own shit and grieving in your own way. I know your mom helps as best she can. And I’m so sorry I haven’t been there for you, Max.” Your eyes teared up again as you spoke. “Billy was your brother. I know you guys didn’t get along all the time, but I also know you were both trying. He did love you…you know that right?” 
She blinked in confusion, the corners of her mouth turned down in a frown. “Where’s this coming from?” she asked suspiciously. 
You sighed again and wiped the tears that fell. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot. And I needed you to know.” 
She eyes you cautiously. “You’re not…you’re not doing anything stupid…right?” 
You shook your head. “No, I’m not.” You felt your throat start to close up. “Billy made me promise. No more cutting.” Your problems ran deep, and there were a lot of things you had struggled with over the years. Billy had caught you with a razor in your hands and blood on your arms. After cleaning you up and making sure you were okay, he made you swear you wouldn’t ever hurt yourself again. 
After he died, you’d felt the urge more than once. The guilt was a crushing pressure on your shoulders. It wouldn’t ever make up for his death, you knew that. But having the cool metal pressed against your skin felt like a penance, something you could do to make up for it. 
After all, it was your fault. 
If you hadn’t called him, he never would’ve been on that road. 
And it would’ve been you that was the puppet. 
You pulled yourself out of your dark thoughts and took a deep breath. “I’ll be honest, I’ve picked up a razor a couple times. But I made a promise to him. And I’ll keep it if it kills me.” 
Max nodded. She had seen the aftermath. Billy was on his way to drop her off to the arcade but stopped to get you first. Your parents weren’t home and you were fighting in a depressive episode. He’d screamed for her when he found you.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I haven’t been there for you either.” 
Without a word, you wrapped your arm around her and pulled her to you. You crushed her in a hug, and she returned the favor. 
“You’re coming with me this afternoon. We’re gonna go to the arcade and then rent some movies to binge tonight.” 
She laughed. “I don’t really have a choice in this, so I?” 
You shook your head with a chuckle. “No. Besides, I need to spend time with another girl for a change.”
Max raised an eyebrow as she pulled out of your embrace. “What do you mean?” 
You rolled your eyes. “Dusty and Steve are starting to run off on me.”
She snorted. “Yeah, we need to change that.” 
~*~*~*~
The end of the day rolled round fairly quickly. You weren’t surprised when you saw Dustin waiting for you by your locker. “What’s up, kid?” you said, opening the blue door and grabbing a couple books you would need for your homework before shoving a few others back in. 
He shrugged. “Not a lot. Wanted to check in on you again.”
“I’m actually planning on taking Max to the arcade for a while. Then we’re gonna get a couple movies and have a girls night.”
“That’s a really good idea for both of you. I know you guys need it.” 
You nodded. There hadn’t been a lot of fun in the last several months. Admittedly, you had tried. But that didn’t mean you would always be successful. You were always close with Max. The two of you usually did have quite a bit of fun together. But even that had slowly dribbled away. But, you were trying. “We do.” 
“I was gonna hang out with Steve for a while tonight, we were actually thinking about going to the arcade. But we can totally avoid it if you and Max want to be by yourselves.”
Chuckling, you rolled your eyes. You knew you weren’t going to be able to get away from them so easily. “It’s fine. Just try not to hang around all night? Part of the point of me spending time with Max is because I spend too much with you and Steve. I’m starting to pick up some nasty habits from you two.” you said, scrunching up your nose. 
Dustin snorted. “We’ll play a couple games with you and then get some pizza. Sound good?”
With a dramatic sigh, you resigned. “I guess.” 
In all honesty, it didn’t bother you. While you were looking forward to spending time with Max again, you knew you were going to feel awkward. Logically, you knew you had no reason to. But that didn’t stop the pit from forming in your stomach. It had been a long time since it had been just the two of you. Looking back on the summer, you knew the grief was too raw for both of you. While they weren’t related by blood, Max had so many of Billy’s personality traits. His signature eye roll, a knowing smirk, and the way she carried herself. It was too much. While you were stuck living the nightmares in your dreams, having her right next to you every day was a living hell. 
You felt bad for having those feelings. Now, it tore you to your core. But like Allie had told you, there were things you weren’t going to be able to do for a long time.
Spending time alone with Max happened to be one of them. 
You needed to drag yourself out of those thoughts. For a second, you frowned. “Where’s Eddie?” You hadn’t seen him since the encounter at the beginning of the day. 
Dustin shrugged. “Not sure. Wouldn’t surprise me if he skipped out. Why?” 
“He brought me breakfast this morning. I wanted to give him a few bucks for it.” 
He raised an eyebrow. “Breakfast?” 
You chuckled. “Yeah, you came in on the tail end of the conversation, buddy. I guess someone told him I wasn’t eating and lost some weight.” You gave him a pointed look, to which he rolled his eyes. 
“He might’ve asked about it.” he said with a shrug. “He seemed pretty worried about you the other day. I was too. But I’m glad you’re making friends. Just be careful, yeah?” 
You snorted. “Don’t worry,” you mumbled. “I’m already over analyzing everything.” 
Dustin gave you a sideways look, but you weren’t really laying attention. His warning had sent your head into a tailspin again. 
Everything you’d thought of that morning started running through your mind a million miles an hour. It wasn’t long before you got lost in the abyss.
It took Dustin snapping his fingers in front of your face to snap you out of the trance. 
“Sorry,” 
“You went all zoned out on me, Bambi. You okay?”
The thoughts quieted for a moment as you blinked and regained your focus. “Yeah…just gets overwhelming up here sometimes.” 
He nodded and adjusted his bag as Max knocked into him with a smile. “Hey,” she said. 
Dustin grinned. “Hey yourself, Mad Max. I heard about girls night. Enjoy!” 
She nodded and looked at you. “We will.” 
A small smile took over your face and you threw your arm over her shoulder. “Let’s go.” 
Dustin waved as the two of you headed towards the exit. He continued watching as you walked out the door and down the sidewalk, his eyes not leaving you and Max until you had rounded a corner and were out of view. He quickly dug into his backpack and pulled out a walkie. 
“Steve?” 
“Yo.” 
“Let’s move. Bambi is headed to the arcade with Max.” 
“Get your ass out here, Henderson! We don’t have all day!” 
~*~*~*~
You and Max were killing it at the arcade. 
Your initial feelings of awkwardness had immediately been dispelled as soon as the two of you walked into the arcade. The neon lights and smell of greasy pizza brought you right out of your shell. 
You’d spent the last few hours playing almost every game in the building. And contrary to what Dustin had said, you’d seen neither hide nor tail of him or Steve. 
It didn’t really bother you. 
Max was laughing. You were laughing. 
And that’s what was important. 
Glancing at the watch on your wrist, you grabbed Max’s shoulder gently and tugged her out of line for the bathroom. “Hey, we should head to Family Video if we still wanna rent some movies. My parents are gonna be home and working on dinner soon.” 
“Good because I didn’t really want to use this bathroom anyway.” she chuckled. 
~*~*~*~
You headed down the street, bag of movies and snacks in hand. Max was going on about the counselor, and how annoying she found Ms. Kelly to be. 
You snorted. “Max, you know I would 100% support you seeing Allie. She’s helped me a lot. But if you’re not ready to, I’m not gonna try to force you or press the issue. As far as Ms. Kelly goes…I do think she wants to help. She’s got the right intentions.”
She rolled her eyes. “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.” 
A chuckle escaped you. “That’s true. But she’s trying. She doesn’t know exactly how to help, but she wants to. I know you and I don’t really talk about what happened…” 
“BILLY!” 
You heard Max’s scream as one of the tentacles tore through your leg. 
You blinked and cleared your throat. “And that’s okay. But I think you need to open up to someone.” 
You landed with a thud beside Billy. He was covered in blood and black goo that could have only come from the Flayer. You ignored the searing pain in your own body as you sobbed and crawled your way to him. 
A choked sound came from you and Max immediately stopped, setting a hand on your arm. 
“You okay?” 
“Shit,” you gasped. You latched onto the hand that was on your arm. 
Panic. Pain. Fear. Anger. All those emotions ran through you at once as you grabbed onto Billy’s shoulders. He grunted as you pulled him into your lap, coughing and making more blood bubble up from his throat. The gaping wound in his chest stared up at you. 
“-snap out of it!” 
A gasp took over and you almost lurched forward. Max gripped your arms tightly and managed to steady you. Your heart hammered in your chest and it felt like you’d been punched in the gut. 
Max said your name again, putting her hands on your cheeks and turning your head so that you were looking at her. 
“Breathe. You got this.” 
You followed her instructions, breathing in shakily before exhaling through your mouth. Your whole body shuddered with the breath, and you couldn’t help the tremor that ran down your spine. 
“Flashbacks?” Max asked? 
You swallowed a cry that threatened to bubble up your throat before nodding. “Yeah. They’re more hellish than the nightmares sometimes.” 
She nodded in understanding. “I get them too.” 
You took a moment to try and compose yourself before you straightened. “Come on. I’m sure dinner is almost ready.” 
Max gave you a knowing look as you squared your shoulders. “Do you need a few minutes?” 
You shook your head and clenched your teeth. “If I take a few minutes, I’m gonna lose it.” 
“Okay. We’ll just slow down a bit then.” 
You glanced over at the redhead as she looped her arm through yours and leaned some of her weight on you momentarily. You reached over with your other hand and set it on her arm. “Thanks, Max.” 
She looked up at you and smiled. “Always.” Then her eyes softened. “Do you want silence or a distraction?” 
You sighed. “A distraction would be nice.” 
She laughed. “Yeah? Alright…well, I’ve been thinking about joining a club.” 
You raised your eyebrows. “Oh?” 
You fell into easy steps as Max talked about some of the different clubs and activities that were offered as a Freshman. Like you, she had been secluding herself and keeping herself closed off. It was starting to affect her and she was craving the chance to throw herself into something. 
The conversation carried itself with you asking a few questions and providing your input. Before you knew it, you were walking up the sidewalk to your house. 
Both you and Max paused. 
Dustin was standing there with his hands in his pockets and a wide, dorky grin on his face. 
That immediately made you suspicious. 
“Dustin…” 
“Hey Bambi.” 
Max looked just as suspicious as you did. “What’s going on?” 
He shrugged. “Oh, nothing. Steve and I just thought we would come by and drop off a present for ya.” 
“What?” you asked. 
He beckoned you forward. “Come on.” 
You shared a confused look with Max before following Dustin around the front of your dad’s Bronco. The garage door slowly began to lift up, revealing Steve sitting on the top of a vehicle covered by a grey sheet. 
“Hey Princess.” 
You just got more confused. “What’s going on?” 
“We all know you’ve had it rough, Bambi. Anyone can see that. And…we know there’s not a lot we can do. But we wanted to do something for you.” 
Steve took that as his cue to hop off the vehicle and walk around to the side. Without saying a word, he grabbed the sheet and ripped it off, sending dust flying in every direction.
You coughed, waving your hand in front of your face. But then you saw it. 
The front end was sanded and dented in places, scratch marks still lining the bumper. The windshield that had been blown out was replaced, a shiny new sticker in the top drivers side corner. 
It was beat up, there was no doubt about it. 
But the open blue door was unmistakable. 
Billy’s Camaro. 
Taglist: @yourdailymemedelivery@1-fuzzy-squirrels@shiggay@chrisevansmarvelmcu@mrsyixingunicorn10@rebelcthulhu @ethen-often @liv-raines@inthemindofaweirdo@mystrangerfics@mattysheelies@hargrovesprincess@ssstutteringbbbill@fuchsia-knight@gooddoggodrogo @jaaxely@sebastiansloserclub@acthenerd@dollface-80 @prettyboyhargrove@uncle-keery@sydneyisnotawriter
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deancaskiss · 1 year
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What made you want to be a vet?
ooooh now this is a good question!
I’ve known I wanted to be a doctor since I was 12 years old. all the way through undergrad I was determined I was actually going to be a human neurosurgeon (how crazy is that??) and like half way through college I just had this realization that not only did I not enjoy working with human patients, but I also didn’t want to be in residency until I was in my 40s. I wanted to hit the ground running and start making a name for myself. I had some long conversations with one of the counselors on campus about what kind of paths were open for me as a pre-med student and what experiences I had had in the past. I remembered I had done a month-long externship in high school with a veterinary practice because I was enrolled in a medical program in high school. I remembered it had been quite cool because vets get to do a lot of surgery, which is where my passion has always been since I was 12. So I decided to look into switching from pre-med to pre-vet. I didn’t have to change anything with my biology degree, but I invested a bunch of time into researching vet school and what it took to apply and what I needed. One of the big things I needed was like 250+ shadowing hours in the veterinary field, so I kinda took that as my way of discovering my passion and investment in the field. I shadowed for an entire year and the animal hospital that I took my own dogs too as a client, and I just utterly fell in love with it. from the first day I stepped into the back and really met the doctors and techs and started to watch surgeries and learn about diseases, I just had that gut feeling that I was where I was meant to be, and I became so passionate about it and really dedicated myself to it. I would go down to the clinic literally every day after classes and I loved it. I even did research on vet schools and found the newest one was in AZ and I came and visited the campus and the second I started the tour, I knew. I knew it was the place I was meant to be. It took me a lil bit to get there (didn’t get in on my first cycle but I I refused to give up and got accepted on the second cycle) and I have never looked back. Even with all the struggles of vet school (between difficult classes and anxiety struggles and the pandemic and the crushing loss of failing NAVLE) I refuse to give up. Even on the bad days, i find the little things that remind me how freaking much I love this job and how passionate I am about being a vet. I never thought I’d say this, but I’m so happy I found my path because being a vet is what I’m meant to do and I love it wholeheartedly.
That was a whole essay I’m sorry, as you can tell I love what I do heheh. Anyway, tl;dr - I wanted to be a human doctor but found my true passion was treating animals and I can’t wait to work with dogs and cats (and exotic species too!)
come chat with me!
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vinbee631 · 9 months
Text
11 - I Feel Badly About You Feeling Badly About Me, Feeling Badly About You  
Prodigal Sons and Daughters Alike
Remus had been a little hesitant to reach out to the school’s counselor about something, he felt, should have been easily solvable all on his own. Or, with some help from his friends, at the most.
Chapter title from Therapy from tick, tick… BOOM! My heart goes out to those too intimidated by therapy to go, and Remus' heart goes out to you as well, despite being imaginary.
Remus had been a little hesitant to reach out to the school’s counselor about something, he felt, should have been easily solvable all on his own. Or, with some help from his friends, at the most.
It was also a little anxiety inducing to think that he had to talk about all that had happened with an adult, someone with much more developed emotional maturity than him. He’d definitely made some mistakes in this whole process, and he didn’t really want to be judged for them. He especially didn’t want to be judged in a meeting that he scheduled and very much needed.
A part of him knew that Dr. Picani definitely wouldn’t be judging him, that kinda went against the whole- counselor and teacher business, but it could still happen. The possibility was… probably more worrisome to him than it should be, but tell his stupid brain that.
He sighed, pocketing his phone after his eighth attempt to text the guy. He needed to psych himself up a bit more before he tried again, or he could try asking Roman to write the text for him when they met up for lunch. That usually helped. 
In what was perhaps a cruel and possibly a fortunate twist of fate, Remus ended up being a bit late for that. 
On his way from his last class of the morning, he stumbled across Virgil in the hall and waved brightly in his direction. Normally, Virgil would simply roll his eyes and brush past, but today he seemed particularly prickly. 
He gave Remus a harsh glare, slowing as they got closer. “What do you want?”
“Uh… to say hi? Like I usually do? Is there a problem with that?” Remus asked honestly.
“Yes, there is a problem with that. I’m so… I don’t get how you can just openly ignore the fact I asked you to leave me alone. You’re not accomplishing anything by pissing me off constantly.”
“Uh, technically, you only asked me to leave you alone once, and that wasn’t even out loud. I’ve talked to you several time after that and tried my best to make it clear that I literally just want to be your friend. If you don’t want that, that’s totally fine, but you’ve never made that clear. Don’t get mad at me for your own confusion, please.”
Virgil snarled, raising a finger and opening his mouth to berate him once more, but he stopped himself, mouth hanging open for a few seconds. Eventually, he closed it, and in a moment of desperation, hissed at him before stomping off.
Remus would have laughed, if he wasn’t so disappointed by the interaction.
“Is there a problem?” A teacher Remus didn’t recognize stuck their head out into the hall to investigate the noise, probably aiming to scold the two of them for yelling in the halls, but Virgil was already gone.
Remus slumped. “Not anymore, I guess.” The teacher looked confused, but with no evidence of a fight or argument they needed to break up, they slipped back into their classroom. 
“Everything alright, Remus?” The boy in question jumped at the voice behind him, turning to face a slightly sheepish Dr. Picani.
“Uh, yeah, everything’s fine! What brings you to this corner of the world?” He asked casually, smiling just a bit too wide to be considered normal. 
“Well, I, as most humans do, need to acquire sustenance to keep myself going! But, I happened to- er, overhear some of that colorful discussion, and I just wanted to check in and make sure everyone was alright. You could accompany me for a moment if you’d like to talk it out?”
Remus flushed at the question. “I… well, I wouldn’t wanna interrupt your lunch. Food is important… and all that.”
Dr. Picani smiled patiently. “That wasn’t really what I asked. The question was if you wanted to talk about it, but no is an acceptable answer.”
“Uh… yeah, I kinda do,” Remus admitted, picking at his nails as he spoke.
“Well, then, if you’re not busy, we can pop back into my office for a bit! I can’t imagine it will take a whole hour, and I dare say I won’t starve if I put off eating by a few minutes.”
Remus wasn’t quite sure how to responds, so he nodded silently and followed, falling in step with the counselor. 
He wouldn’t call the silence that followed awkward, but it certainly was not comfortable. For him, at least, Picani seemed to be relatively calm. He even smiled gently in Remus’ direction when they accidentally made eye contact.
Okay, maybe he shouldn’t have been so worried about this.
He sat across from the doctor, surprised at how comfortable the chairs were. Picani didn’t say anything as he sat, merely stared at Remus expectantly and patiently.
Remus took a breath, and thought back to where this all started from.
“I… it’s kind of a complicated story, but… I’ve been trying to get to know Virgil some more, or at least freaking talk to him for once, but- being his friend has been annoyingly complicated and he is annoyingly stubborn!”
Picani nodded for him to continue, gracefully ignoring the somewhat tamer but still quite colorful language Remus opted to use.
“He wouldn’t talk to me in person so I started leaving post-it notes with random conversation starters and stories about myself and junk. Then, I used one as an invitation to eat lunch together, and he completely freaked out. I guess he thought I was pestering him or bullying him or something, and he chewed me out for it so I stopped. 
Then, I thought maybe I should try giving him the notes in person so they would be more sincere, or something, but he just yelled at me about it again! I just- I guess I should probably listen to what he wants now, but he looks so lonely all the time, and it sucks! I don’t think it’s healthy for him to be isolating himself so much, either. I just… I dunno what to do.”
Emile frowned sympathetically. “That does sound quite frustrating. I admire that you’re willing to take the time and reach out to him, though. He seems pretty intent on maintaining his independence, but there is a large difference between independence and self-isolation.”
“Right? I just… I don’t wanna hurt him, or make him hate me, but how am I supposed to be friends with him if he won’t talk to me, or even listen to me at this point?”
The dean seemed to think for a moment. “Well, you’ll probably have to try a different method, if the other two resulted in genuine anger on Virgil’s part. Have you considered a more action-based approach?”
Remus tilted his head curiously. “What do you mean by that, Dr. P?”
“Instead of using notes to talk to him, or conversation starters, you could try to get to know him by doing something with him? Or, asking for his help with something? Inviting him to spend time with you or talk to you might not be the best, but asking for a second opinion on a school project could be a way to segway into a more casual conversation. Just a thought.” 
Remus’s confused frown quickly phased into an enthusiastic smile. “Oh, oh, that’s actually super smart! I… yeah, I have some ideas now, thank you so much!” He jumped up from his seat, planning to head straight to his room to brainstorm, but Emile interrupted him before he could run off.
“Remus? Before you go, just be careful. I can see you care a lot about him, but running yourself into the ground for one friend would be just as unhealthy of an outcome as Virgil isolating himself. So, be gentle, okay? With yourself and with Virgil.”
Remus nodded. “Of course, teach. I’ve got it all under control. Thank you!” And he raced off. 
He’d planned to hiad straight back to his room to brainstorm, but his stomach grumbling interfered with that plan. Then, he remembered Roman was likely waiting for him, and he ended up in the cafeteria, drumming his fingers on his lunch tray as he rushed over to where his friends were sitting.
“Alright, what’s the new idea, Re? Roman teased, ironically enough. Of course, he thought that Remus wouldn’t have come up with something new already, but he was always full of surprises. 
“Gonna ignore the teasing and interpret that as genuine! I just had a very inspiring conversation with Dr. Emmy, and he gave me- like, maybe the best idea any of us has come up with.” “He is, literally an adult, and also a teacher. I hope the fact he has more emotional intellingence is not surprising to you,” Janus noted, laughing as Remus whacked him lightly on the arm.
“Well, yeah, obviously. It’s still a good idea, but I can’t use it yet. I mean… I can, but I don’t think it’s gonna work out the way I want unless I have help. So, hear me out? Please?”
Roman raised an eyebrow. “I agree to nothing until you tell us what we’re getting into. Also, we are talking about getting to know a real person, so maybe don’t treat it like we’re brainstorming ideas for a particularly pesky school assignment?”
“Right, yeah, you’re right. So- yeah, I’ll explain anyway. Well… Vee kinda yelled at me earlier when I tried to hand-deliver another note, and Emmy ran into me right after that lovely little talk and let me vent about it.” 
As he explained, Roman’s eyebrows shot up into his bangs. “That explains where you went, I guess.”
“Yeah,” Remus chuckled ruefully. “Anyway, I wasn’t actually fishing for advice, but he is a counselor, so that makes sense. But, he was like- he suggested starting with something action-based instead of conversation-based. The notes were all conversation starters and invitations to spend time talking, but this is like, inviting him to help us with something or to work on a project together, y’know?” 
The others reacted fairly similarly to Remus: excitement at the new idea, bafflement they didn’t come up with that first, and perhaps a bit of annoyance for that same reason.
“Well, then, I suppose you were right to be so enthusiastic,” Logan conceded, leaning on his hands as he began to brainstorm. 
“Yes, that is a wonderful new perspective, but is there a specific reason you decided we all need to be involved for it to work?” Janus questioned, growing a bit concerned as Remus immediately slumped in his seat. 
“Well, yeah. Vee is royally pissed at me now, and as much as I want to be able to be his friend, I can’t just jump into talking to him again. Or, spending time around him, in this case. He needs space from me, I think, but you guys can get the ball rolling so that, hopefully, he’s more open to getting to know me- er, well, all of us, better.”
Patton placed a sympathetic hand on Remus’ shoulder. “That’s really considerate of you, Rem. Well, in the meantime, I bet you have already started brainstorming ways to try this out! Do you wanna share?”
Remus bounced back instantly, grinning wide as his thoughts from earlier came surging back. “Oh, Patty-cake, there are so many!” 
“Well then, fire away, Re. We’ll find a way to win Virgil over yet,” Roman proclaimed with a smile to match Remus’. While he was still sorting through the disappointment he initially felt on the situation, Remus was still fairly optimistic. He just hoped Virgil could see, through all the confusion and anger, that he and the others really did care about him.
Yes, the amount of ‘scheming’ involved could be considered a red flag, but Remus reserved only his best-brainstormed plans for people he cared about. In his mind, the two were already beginning to be friends. He hoped Virgil would come to agree with him.
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blackllghtburns · 10 months
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had to have a real embarrassing convo with my doctor today re: my mental health and it’s like. I shouldn’t be embarrassed. that’s literally her job. and i’m not doing very well, and there’s no reason to keep quiet about it when I do have some resources of dealing with it. but admitting out loud to another human being that I think about killing myself A Lot is just. not fun. and to a lesser extent it’s embarrassing to admit how mf lonely I am. it was very much a 30 minute conversation with a lot of No Eye Contact, because I absolutely did not want to start crying. 
some good did come out of it at least -- I got an increase to my medication and if that doesn’t really help, there’s another combo I can try. I also got a referral to a counselor which isn’t a bad thing either. but I’m just like. I feel so lowkey ashamed any time I have to bring up some kind of mental health topic. not even just with doctors, but with family/friends/etc because it’s like, I don’t want to be That person. I don’t want to be the person that’s never okay.
I guess that’s why I yell into the void on here and why I’ve struggled with counseling in the past, because it’s so much easier than flat out telling someone that I’m not doing well. Idk. I need to give it a try again though because I don’t want to live like this forever. 
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tinacentury · 2 years
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Fight and Make Up!
I have fond memories of this prompt. Curious about your take!
So this was from Usamamo Week 2019. Day 5 was First Kiss, which morphed into 5 Years, and I never got back to the prompts for that week after that monster 😅.
BUT I did have a good chunk of this one written. It’s not high on my priority list to finish it…so here is what I wrote back then. It’s the fight, without the make-up (in which the plan was for Mamoru to learn how distorted some of his thinking is during the fight and how it’s normal to have fights with one’s partner, etc. On a side note, happy to report I’ve made my own strides on this topic since writing this…as a lot of Mamoru’s distorted thinking was also mine. Though that shit runs deep, so I won’t say those feelings are ever completely gone). So, without further ado…————————————————————-
He had ruined it.
One stupid misstep on his part, and a relationship that had literally outlasted death was over.
Idiot.
He couldn’t unsee Usagi’s tear-filled eyes, the hurt on her face after he had snapped at her for spilling coffee all over his kitchen counter.
She’d stormed out of his apartment, leaving him to marinate in his own self-loathing.
Why are you such a jerk?
As a rule, Mamoru avoided fights. If he was irritated with someone, he rarely said so directly. Instead, he would retreat, stew about it, let his feelings cool off, then come back days later, pretending nothing had happened.
Talking about it ruined things.
Fights ended relationships.
There had been that one counselor at the orphanage--the one a young Mamoru had actually started to build a relationship with, had actually started to not hate opening up to. She had fought with the administration over hours and pay, and then they had severed ties with her. Mamoru never saw her again after that.
There had been that one time he’d fallen into a sudden friendship in middle school, the kind where you feel like you connect to someone immediately because on the surface you have so much in common. He’d gone to that friend’s house to work on a science project, and somehow the conversation had diverged into his friend telling him that maybe the reason people didn’t talk to him much at school was because he “acted too much like himself” around others.
That had stung, and Mamoru had actually tried to talk about it, pointing out how objectively hurtful that statement was. The conversation turned angry and defensive, and Mamoru had spun around on his heel, walked out, and never spoken to the boy again.
But he could prevent these things, if he was perfect, if he accommodated everyone around him and never fought and never snapped and never admitted he had been annoyed or hurt or irritated by anything anyone ever did or said.
He could keep the people he loved, if he was perfect.
No one would abandon him, if he was perfect.
But he hadn’t been perfect today.
You really fucked things up.
He sank onto the couch, squeezing his eyes shut as if that could erase the memory. It had been a shit day. He’d slept through his alarm and almost missed a biochemistry test that accounted for 50% of his grade. He’d just barely made it to the classroom, unshowered, hair sticking up every which way, exceedingly aware of the judgemental eyes of everyone else in the room.
That afternoon, he’d discovered his motorcycle had a flat tire, and, after dropping it off at the repair shop, gotten stuck on a delayed metro train in the sticky, stifling Tokyo summer heat.
All Mamoru had wanted to do when he got home was take a shower and relax in the silence of his air-conditioned apartment, preferably with a good book, away from people and their judgement, away from having to be “on.”
So he hadn’t expected Usagi’s enthusiastic knock on his door just minutes after he’d entered the bathroom, about to undress for his shower.
“Usako,” he greeted her with a peck on the cheek, torn between being happy to see her and just wanting to be alone.
But what sort of person needed alone time in the presence of his soulmate? That wasn’t normal.
What the hell is wrong with you?
Usagi was her usual energetic self, chattering away excitedly about school and Naru and Minako’s latest crush and Makoto’s latest cupcake recipe.
He listened, nodding politely here and there and he set water to boil and ground the coffee beans. His hand tightened in irritation on the handle of his French press as he poured them in.
Usagi’s voice seemed particularly shrill today.
He poured the coffee into two ceramic mugs and handed one to Usagi. Just as he started to make his way into the living room, a loud crash filled his kitchen.
Usagi’s mug was in pieces, the steaming brown liquid flooding his kitchen counter, seeping into and staining a nearby dishtowel and running in a rivulet down onto the linoleum floor.
“Usa!” he barked. “Can’t you watch what you’re doing for once?”
The guilt was immediate. It rose up in his chest like the boiling water he’d just poured into the coffeepot.
You’re such an asshole.
And clearly, she thought so, too. Her bottom lip trembled, but she rose up to meet his anger.
“My God, Mamoru. It’s just a coffee mug. What is your problem?”
Eyes blazing, she stomped out of his kitchen, grabbed her shoes, and slammed the door behind her, leaving just the sound of the coffee drip-drip-dripping onto the floor in her wake.
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tehlittletoaster · 10 months
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day 1 of being a camp counselor
i’ve been here for about 24 hours with campers. here are somethings i’ve learned about my kids aged 6-8:
- they hate listening to you when you’re telling them they can’t do something they find fun. these girls wanted to roll down a hill. in the middle of the woods. known for having ticks. they wanted to swing between their metal bunk beds. they were running at 10pm in the dark, not caring about falling and breaking something. and they won’t stop.
- they will believe anything you tell them. they think my name is toaster, that i’m 190 years old, and my parent’s names are tree and rock. 
- E N E R G Y . they didn’t want to go to bed until 11:30pm last night. i get staying up late, but we are staying up until at least 10:30 tonight and i reminded them that at least 5 times before going to bed, we still had to yell at them. 
- they love swimming. for our entire activity before pool, they would not shut up about going to the pool. every five minutes, it’d be like, “when can we go to the pool?” “are we going to the pool now?” “can we leave for the pool now?” mind you these are BABIES wanting to go swim in chlorinated water. why? i do not know. i also just hate pools. 
- sensitive. little. beings. one of my littles failed the swim test because they kept grabbing onto the wall while taking it (whats the point of the test if we know you can just hold onto the walls?), and they would not. stop. crying. for what was probably only 5 minutes but it felt like forever. they kept saying “i hate shallow!” or “i like swimming!” even after telling them many times that i have never swam in that side of the pool (true, i’ve been going here since i was her age and still have never gone on the deep end). they eventually gave up and got their wristband because their friends got out of the water. i am so happy i will not be with them the next time they go to the pool. my break is scheduled then!
- super touchy. completely unaware of personal space. while i was working with a HOT GLUE GUN, these kids were literally, like legit, breathing down my neck. i could feel their sticky little warm bodies next to me while i was glueing these ribbons onto their little popsicle stick stars. i had to say multiple times to get into a line. they keep coming up behind me and hugging me while i’m sitting. if it happens again, i am 100% going to tell them about boundaries. 
- they forget. EVERYTHING. before leaving this morning, i reminded them we were going to the pool. at least 10 times. mentioning that you need a change of clothes. guess how many kids forgot something? only two, but one kid forgot their towel, one forgot their underwear, another forgot their hair stuff, another forgot their hairbrush, etc. and none of them brought dry clothes to change into. none. we remind them to grab their water bottles every time we leave our quarters, since it’s summer in the midwest and it’s easy to get dehydrated. theres always at least two that leave them on their beds. some didn’t even bring a water bottle to camp. we have to give them leftover stock from last year. and those kids that get new water bottles? still forget them wherever they go. its wild to me how they can be thirsty, complain about being thirsty, and yet still forget to grab them.
- they don’t understand wastefulness yet. at opening fire last night, they all reapplied bug spray at least 5 times each. after being reminded that once or twice was enough. they spray it for fun sometimes. they spray it on their friends. they’re gonna run out of bug spray halfway through the week and we won’t be able to help them. they also waste food. at breakfast, only two of my campers finished their plates. there were half full or full bowls of cereal. a semi-touched bowl of oatmeal. an entire plate of just bacon. these kids want to eat it all, but they physically can’t. and they know it. but they still want to grab all of the bacon they can just because they wanna. 
i will add more onto this post tomorrow on my break, because why not. i love typing out my days instead of writing them, so i might just turn this into a camp counselor blog. if, y’know, tumblr still is active lmao
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@jellydeans: so are cas and jimmy novak just up in heaven existing at the same time @katebushstandean: #jimmy moves to heaven timbuku so that dean stops trying to make out with him every time they run into each other at the heaven grocery store
LINK
Thanks for letting me write this, guys!!
AO3  (2.1k)
The thing about Heaven was that it was whatever you wanted it to be, and most of its residents wanted it to be familiar.
Technically, Dean didn’t need to fill his car up on gas anymore, but there was still a gas station just down the street from where his new home was placed. He didn’t need to sleep, but he still had a large king-sized bed he made sure to make use of at least once a day. He didn’t need to eat, but there was a thriving supermarket that catered to whatever he was feeling like eating and always boasted the freshest ingredients for when he wanted to get a little fancy with his cooking.
Like today, for example.
Bobby had said he doubted Dean could make a proper souffle, so obviously Dean had to make the old man eat his words - and a souffle.
Dean stared at all of the different options of eggs, trying to decide if “free-range” vs. “organic” actually meant anything in Heaven, or if it was just meant to give him some sort of familiarity.
He grabbed the “free-range” option and moved on to the dairy.
There was movement out of the corner of his eye in the meat section across the way, and the way his heart stopped in his chest when he turned to look would have killed him if he wasn’t already dead.
It was Cas.
Cas, who Dean had spent every day thinking about since he’d left. Cas, who Dean had been trying to find ever since Bobby told him he was still around. Cas, who Dean still had unfinished business with.
He’d spend hours in bed, staring at the ceiling of his room and rehearsing just what he’d say when he saw him again, but in those scenarios Cas had shown up on his doorstep or in the passenger seat of his car where they could have a moment to just be .
He’d never been buying hamburger meat.
Dean rushed forward, cart forgotten, and skidded to a halt in front of Cas, just as he looked up in surprise.
“I love you -” Dean said in a rush, heart pounding, head reeling, “Of course I love you. You’re - fuck - you’re everything I could ever want and I’m - I’m so damn sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t have me, too.”
Cas blinked at him, and it was in that moment Dean realized something was wrong.
His expression, his hair, the way he moved, the way he was dressed - all of it was wrong.
None of it was Cas, he’d just been too overwhelmed to see it.
“Oh, uh... hey Dean,” Not-Cas said, and finished putting his selected meat in his basket, “I didn’t didn’t know that you died. Um, if you’re looking for Castiel -“
Dean turned and ran out of the store.
*
What were the fucking chances that in all of Heaven, he and Cas’s old vessel were neighbors?
Dean gunned the gas pedal on his car as he drove endlessly, trying to walk himself through what exactly had happened the day before.
Jimmy Novak was here.
Jimmy Novak who - last Dean checked - hated him.
Dean had just spewed his feelings all over him without even thinking about the possibility that he wasn’t Cas. He’d been wearing a sweater vest for crying out loud - but he was willing to forgive himself for that one because he didn’t really know how Cas would dress if he had the choice.
His hopes had soared so high when he’d seen the familiar figure, only to be dashed the moment Jimmy had opened his mouth. They sounded absolutely nothing alike - and Dean yearned for the deep gravel of Castiel’s greeting.
Dean’s grip on the wheel tightened.
Where was Cas?
Didn’t he know that there was nothing keeping them apart now?
In what could only be an act of fate smiling down on him, Dean zoomed around a corner near the Heavenly library, and instantly had to stomp on the brakes of the Impala as a trenchcoat-clad figure stepped into the previously empty crosswalk.
Old habits die hard - Dean was still going to brake for Heavenly pedestrians, especially ones that looked like Cas.
Cas turned to look at him, eyes wide, and Dean shoved the driver’s side door open in a panic. The trench coat was unmistakable this time.
“Cas! Cas - don’t go okay? I gotta -“
Cas shook his head sharply and let out a breath.
“No - Jesus Christ - it’s still me, you idiot.”
Dean gaped at him as his brain tried to catch up with the conflicting bits of information it was processing.
“...what?” He heard himself saying.
Had he just wanted it to be Cas so bad that he’d ignored all the signs?
Jimmy gestured at himself like it was enough of an explanation.
“Uh. Yeah.”
“But - but you’re wearing his trenchcoat! ” Dean said, waved at it like maybe Jimmy hadn’t realized he was walking around as the mockery of the angel who’d once shared a living space with him.
Jimmy placed an affronted hand on his own chest.
“It was my trenchcoat!”
Frustration boiled inside of him and Dean quickly slid back into the car and slammed the door shut behind him.
He sped off, once again running from what could have been.
*
Dean was sulking under a pile of blankets in his bed when there was a knock at his door.
He ignored it.
After a few moments of silence, the knocking came again, louder and more insistent this time.
Grumbling to himself, Dean threw the blankets off and trudged down the stairs, flinging open the door with a scowl.
A person with nearly combed hair was standing on the doorstep holding a six-pack of beer in one hand and had a sticker on his shirt that said, ‘Hello, my name is Jimmy’.
“Very funny.” Dean said flatly.
“It’s not funny. It’s just in case you try to kiss me or something.” Jimmy held up the six-pack expectantly. “Can I come in?”
Dean didn’t appreciate the ribbing, but he didn’t mind the beer.
And after accosting him twice he might as well let the guy do what he wanted.
“Yeah, whatever.” Dean grumbled and left the door open as he walked back inside and flopped onto his couch. “Why are you here? Don’t you hate me?”
Jimmy hummed as he set the beer down on the coffee table and took a seat opposite Dean.
“I don’t not hate you.” He said with a shrug. “But last time we talked you were trying to convince me to chain myself to a comet again and I can’t say I appreciated it.”
Dean grunted in acknowledgment.
“I’ve been in heaven for a while now. It’s nice here. I take a yoga class with my wife.” Jimmy smiled at him. “I think I’m in a much better mental space now to consider liking you, especially if we’re going to be neighbors.”
Dean winced.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to like Jimmy, it was just… that was Cas’s face. It wasn’t , but it was. Was he really going to have to be constantly taunted with it?
“Look man - I’m sorry about - you know. That.” Dean waved a hand in the air generally. “But you don’t have to do all this. I’ll stop harassing you.”
“That would be nice,” Jimmy said, opening one of the cans and taking a swig, “So, considering the things you’ve said to me, I take it he finally told you he loved you?”
Dean paused, still raw every time he thought about it.
“You knew?”
Jimmy smirked.
“That angel’s love for you permeated both of our beings so potently I’m amazed I don’t love you.” Jimmy said, like it was the kind of fact you could drop casually. “Though even I will admit, as a happily married heterosexual man, that having a man as handsome as you proclaim your love to me in the middle of a grocery store was very exciting.”
Dean dropped his head into his hands and groaned loudly.
“Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Jimmy said, “That first one was pretty good. I’m sure he’s going to love it.”
“He’s never gonna hear it.” Dean muttered.
“Sure he will. You’ve already practiced it twice.”
“I can’t find him!” Dean said, and looked back up, “He’s here somewhere, and I can’t find him. It’s killing me.”
Jimmy held out a beer can.
“Good thing you’re already dead.”
Begrudgingly, Dean accepted the beer and opened it.
“I just. . . I just wanna see him again.” Dean took a long drink. “I want to talk to him. Tell him everything. Share everything. If he wants that.”
Dean let out a long breath, expecting Jimmy to interject with a quip.
He looked over at him when nothing happened, and Jimmy was smiling at him in a way that Dean could only describe as ‘fond’.
“What?” Dean said, indignantly.
“Nothing.” Jimmy said innocently. “You’re just not what I expected.”
Dean looked away.
“Anyway, you asked why I’m here,” Jimmy took another drink, “I’ve seen Castiel.”
“What?” Dean jumped to his feet, beer can dropped to the floor and forgotten about. “Why didn’t you lead with that?”
“I’m an enigma,” Jimmy shrugged a shoulder and leaned back against the plush chair, “Anyway, I wanted to let you know as someone who has literally been in Castiel’s head - I'm pretty sure I know the reason he’s not showing himself to you.”
“Well, fucking spill.”
Jimmy paused.
“Why do you love him?”
Of all the things Dean had been expecting Jimmy to say - this wasn’t it.
Dean sat back down.
“Why?” He asked, a little breathless. “Why does it matter?”
Jimmy shrugged again.
“I guess -” Dean said, trying to unspool his emotions from the knot they’d made in his heart, “He’s - he’s Cas. He cares . . . so much about everyone and - and he’s selfless and kind and he fucking saved me in more ways than just one. He’s always been there for me and Sam and he’s just… he’s just. He’s just good . I’ll never deserve him, but I want to try.”
Dean sucked in a deep breath.
“He pulls me away from the edge, man. I just love him.”
Jimmy nodded once, set down his beer can, and in a bizarre turn of events, began yelling at Dean’s ceiling.
“Did you hear that, Castiel? Not one goddamn thing about how you look! Nothing about me or my vessel!”
Dean stared, dumbfounded.
“Wh-”
“He doesn’t care what you look like! Can you please just come talk to him so I can stop playing marriage counselor for you two?”
Care how he - what?  
What was happening?
Before Dean could fully compile all of the new information, there was a hesitant knock at the front door.
Dean whipped his head towards Jimmy, who was smiling in satisfaction.
Nearly tripping over himself, Dean rushed to the door faster than he’d rushed towards anything in his life, and swung it open.
In front of him was the wavelength of celestial intent that Dean had always known existed inside of the vessel of Jimmy Novak - the glint of angelic creation he’d caught glimpses of in the glow of his eyes and in his healing touch. The being was massive and stretched high into the sky with what was (maybe three? four??) pairs of wings scraping the clouds even further above everything. He was flaming rings and rotating divine faces that Dean could barely comprehend - he was raw power and all-knowing eyes.
On the front of his form was a sticker that read, ‘Hello, my name is Castiel’.  
“. . . Hello Dean.” The voice rumbled through the air like thunder.
“Cas?” Dean said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I - yes. I’m sorry. I lost my vessel to the Empty - this was the only way -”
“I love you, too.”
The rotating faces on the form towering above him froze in place.
“I do! I love you, Cas. Okay? You didn’t let me say it back before - and if I’ve ever made you feel like I couldn’t love you back, I’m so fucking sorry. You deserve better.”
“. . . you love me?”
Dean nodded, his heart clenching at the disbelief he could hear in Cas’s voice.
“ Even as this?”
“You’ve always been this.” Dean swallowed. “I fell in love with the angel, not the vessel.”
“Dean. . .”
Dean smiled up at him in understanding.
“Just a shame that we’ll have to get a bigger house.”
“Oh I can -”
And as Dean looked on, Castiel began to shrink. The form didn’t change - he was still as striking as he’d been the first time with his wings and halos and faces still firmly in place - but he was now maybe one foot taller than Dean instead of one hundred.
“- make myself more manageable.”
Dean grinned and took a step forward, giddy and thrilled that this was finally, actually happening
He reached up, resting a hand on one of the divine faces.
“Bite-sized.” He murmured fondly.
Jimmy’s voice cut through the moment from somewhere behind them.
“Just so you two know - I. Am. Moving!”
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bookofmirth · 3 years
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Az, Gwyn, and power
Something I’ve seen going around a lot lately, in the past couple of months, is that if Azriel and Gwyn were to enter into a relationship, it would be unequal or imbalanced, basically that Azriel has more power than Gwyn and so it would make for a potentially... bad (? definition tbd) relationship.
I’ve already explained why the theory about Elain not knowing how the bond works makes her look like either stupid, or ignorant, or supremely passive. I’m assuming that is not the intention of the stans.
Now lemme explain why this interpretation, of a gwynriel relationship being inherently imbalanced and problematic for being so, would make Azriel look like an asshole.
I keep seeing people saying “because this person has power and this person doesn’t, this thing is bad”. No. That’s not how it works. Power is much more complex and nuanced than that, and it depends on how the individual decides to wield it. There are multiple ways that someone can gain, retain, and use power. Some have more access than others, for different reasons. However, it is not inevitable that those with more power will exploit those with less.
In the post about power I mentioned Rhys, and he is a great example of why having power isn’t necessarily a bad thing for everyone around him. The only thing that keeps Rhys from literally every sort of privilege is that he is half Illyrian. Other than that, he has everything going for him. However, he rarely, if ever, takes advantage of his power to the detriment of others. We could probably argue about why this is or isn’t true and to what extent, but the point is that we have other examples of similar fae - Beron - who wield the same types of power and do not gaf about anyone else. Rhys intentionally allows the IC to have a voice in what happens in the NC, he listens to them, he takes their advice, and sometimes he does a shitty job but he tries to avoid ruling with an iron fist.
Back to gwynriel.
So the idea that Gwyn and Azriel cannot be equals in a relationship initially came from the idea that Gwyn is, somehow, at 28 years old, mentally and emotionally a child. We know that this is NOT true. It has been confirmed by the writer, who did hear explanation of the different rates at which fae age. So her denial that Gwyn is a child was not out of context. She knew what people were thinking.
However, there are still issues that people bring up regarding Gwyn being a priestess and Azriel being the spymaster. But let’s be clear about who Gwyn and Azriel are:
Gwyn is a priestesses. She is not a nun. She spends her time learning and aiding others in that pursuit.
She protected children when her temple was under attack.
Gwyn is Carynthian. One of the only two women in history to earn that distinction. That accomplishment took intelligence, cunning, cooperation, and strength.
Gwyn is mostly High Fae.
Gwyn is a SA survivor.
Azriel rescued her.
Azriel is a spymaster.
Azriel is also Carynthian.
He is part Illyrian.
Azriel’s role in the library is not “supervisor”. He is not their camp counselor. He is not their authority figure. He brings women to the library who have been victimized, and then he leaves. 
The two people who are actually in charge of the library and its citizens safety are Morrigan and Rhysand.
Combining all those facts with Gwyn’s age, Gwyn is not Azriel’s inferior in any way. No matter which way you look at it, there is nothing about Azriel that inherently puts him in a position to abuse his power.
She is also not his inferior in terms of maturity (while I can see that being an argument, it would need to be equally applied to nessian, feysand, elucien, e*riel, etc.... and it’s not. Unless an sjm anti is reading this, then yeah, I can see them making that argument.)
So let’s just say, for the sake of argument, that Azriel does hold a position of authority over Gwyn. He doesn’t, but let’s just pretend that these arguments are actually valid.  If - if - Gwyn and Azriel were problematic as a relationship because of some power imbalance, then it stands to reason that that ship is problematic because Azriel is the type of person to exploit that imbalance.
Is that what y’all were going for when you try to say that gwynriel makes you feel uncomfortable??? Doubt it.
One last point about my list above - if y’all think that the fact that Azriel rescued Gwyn means that he can only see her that way, that he can only see her as an SA survivor and can never see beyond that, fails to recognize her growth and strength, even though he helped her to complete the Blood Rite Qualifier... again, that doesn’t say great things about Azriel (and maybe doesn’t say great things about people who would make that argument, since people are not defined by their trauma!)
I have seen (maybe? maybe I imagined this) a comparison between Azriel and Gwyn that he’s like... a teacher, and she’s the student, to explain why they are not an appropriate ship. The big problem with a teacher/student relationship is that the student in the scenario feels like they cannot say no. Your teacher is an authority, they are more mature, more knowledgeable, they have influence over whether you pass a class and get a good grade, they can tell your parents if you have been behaved or completing your work, etc. There are a lot of ways that a teacher can punish a student for not doing what they want. This is why those relationships are always frowned upon - it’s big dubcon territory, if not straight up noncon. 
However, again, Gwyn is participating in the Valkyrie training voluntarily. She lives at the library voluntarily. She is a priestess voluntarily. There is nothing that Azriel can do to Gwyn that would force her to comply with what he wants. Gwyn can tell Azriel to fuck off, to go choke, to eat dust, to go jerk off, and... nothing would happen. He would probably stop hanging around as much, but that’s... it. He has no actual power over her in the sense of being an authority figure or being in control of her life in any way.
Something that I almost put in that original post but didn’t because it was besides the point at the time, was that there are always power differences. People will always have differing levels of access to privilege and power. That does NOT mean that people can and must only ever be in relationships with people of similar levels or power/privilege. In that post I mentioned how feylin didn’t work out because Tamlin had so much access and Feyre had none - to compound this problem, he allowed her access to none. He did nothing to try to even the playing field, to educate or empower her. That’s what made it a problem. 
So do y’all think that Azriel would be like Beron? Someone willing to take the privilege he has and wield it over someone else like a cudgel? Or is he more like Rhys? Aware of his position and working to support - not manipulate - others? Because even if we were to accept the premise that there is a problematic power imbalance between Azriel and Gwyn, the only reason we should be uncomfortable with that is if we think that Azriel is the type of person who would exploit that imbalance. 
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Switch: The Other Side Pt 4
A/N: Again, this is just filth. I’ve surprised myself. And I apologize I know I keep going back and forth with who gets called what but it’s hard with the last name stuff you know? I’m not Japanese. But this is for funsies and you hope you all enjoy and know that it’s barely proofread like always. 
Masterlist is here!
Synopsis: Ochaco gets marriage counseling and it doesn’t really help   
Warnings: 18+ content MDNI, smut, p in v, outdoor, oral (m receiving), lying, cheating, mentions of cheating, light choking (literally), cuss words of course, angst if you love Deku
2 months before the party
She was grumpy and she didn't want to admit why. She sat there arms crossed when she was supposed to be open. Deku would never judge her or hate her. She knew that. But even as the marriage counselor gently prodded and Deku stared at her with those big eyes of his, she couldn't make herself say it completely. She would have to admit everything that came with it. When she asked for counseling, she didn't tell him what she'd done. She just said there's some things she wanted to say with someone who could help them navigate their feelings. She admitted that she had different sexual fantasies that didn't involve Deku and that she wanted more from him. But that was all she would say.
"So Ochaco, do you want to tell us about these fantasies?"
She huffed, pouting. She didn't want to say that her fantasies consisted of flashbacks of Bakugo fucking her in the bathroom. Just thinking about it, the way he touched her, made her wet automatically. The way he looked, he took off no clothes but his body underneath her was still magnificent. Under his shirt, she could still feel the planes and dips of his chest, his abs. The way he smiled up at her in pleasure, his eyes bright, watching her every move. The way he felt, his fingers, his cock, just as perfect as she believed it would be.
"Hey. Do you want to come on my cock?"
His words were on repeat and she turned red whenever she thought of them. She got exactly what he offered her and it was good. Better than good. It was pretty vanilla for their first time but the excitement of the danger alone was enticing in the moment. Not that she was excited about cheating on Deku. That's why they were here now with the marriage counselor in front of them.
"My fantasies are just...rougher and more exciting," she shrugged, not looking at anyone. "I want to try…different things like being tied up or choked or maybe even public sex. Not out in the open or anything just somewhere other than the bed at least." Her voice was small and she was beet red and she saw Deku trying not to cringe.
"And Izuku?" The marriage counselor turned to him. "Do you think you could supply that? Do you think you could give her the excitement she's looking for?"
He looked concerned. " I could try. It makes me nervous though. I don't want to hurt you or mess things up."
He looked at her with that adoration she came to expect but also with a hint of sadness. For a moment she worried he already knew. But there was no way right? It was only one time.
"No, I'm asking for it," she supplied in a rush.
"Yes, Izuku, there are plenty of safe ways to explore your sexualities and the fact that you care so much is a great trait to have already if you're to begin down this path."
Was it though, Ochaco thought. Maybe she needed someone to kind of disregard her. Not totally, but someone willing to treat her like the capable and consenting adult that she was. Someone to say she can handle it. She needed someone like...she stopped herself before she could solidify the thought. If she decided he was what she needed, she would never be the same.
Deku nodded but she could see the reluctance on his face. "We can try."
She knew he meant it but she had very little optimism.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
"How's this?"
"Tighter."
"Um, like this?"
She suppressed a sigh. "Yeah, that's good," she lied. His hold on her throat was perfectly fine. He pounded into her like she liked. He moaned as his eyes closed. He was getting close she already knew and she was ready for him to. He'd already made her come once. The sex started out good. He went down on her, tossed her on the bed, and told her to tell her what she wanted. But he usually made her come twice but this time, she wasn't quite feeling it. He was choking her and that was nice but he wasn't great at dirty talking and keeping up with being rough with her. He just wasn't. And she liked that about him. Or she thought she did. She was unsure of herself as he warned her he was coming.
When he rolled off to the side, he turned his head to look at her.
"How was it?" He sounded nervous.
She took a deep breath before answering. "It was...better." Not quite a lie but it was enough. He smiled, satisfied to know he was improving. It pained her even more. She lifted herself from the bed under the pretense of getting a glass of water. She put on a nightie and made her way to the kitchen but she just leaned her elbows on the counter, her head in her hands. She tried to be patient, wanted to be but she couldn't help think of how Katsuki had fucked her. He already knew what to do. What if Deku never gave her that?
It shouldn't matter so much but she had seen greener grass, felt it.
She pulled out her phone and went back to the message thread she had been pondering over the last week. It only had two messages.
Hey. Sorry.
They had each other's numbers because they worked together but never had any reason to use them. The fact that he had said those two words surprised the hell out of her. So much so that she didn't know how to answer but now that she was standing unsatisfied in her kitchen, she knew what she wanted to say.
Don't be.
She finally made her way to getting a glass of water when her phone dinged. Cautiously she checked the notification.
Hmm. You're up late. Deku must've let you down 😏
She groaned almost mad at herself for texting him back but he was right. And he was the only person who would understand.
😔 He's doing his best
He answered quickly again.
🤣 Normally I wouldn't say this but his best isn't enough here, sweetheart.
She chewed on her lip thinking of her next answer when another text came through.
You need me.
Those words made her stomach drop. Before she could stop her fingers, they were typing.
I do
You need me fucking you just how you like it.
She almost moaned aloud and he texted again.
You're wet, aren't you?
She was, wasn't she? She reached down to feel it for herself and sure enough her finger came back sticky. She slowly wiped the finger up over her clit. How did you know?
I know what I do to you.
She chuckled to herself. So cocky. She couldn't find a reason for him not to be though. Her mind drifted and she imagined him bending her over the kitchen counter. She imagined how he would press himself against her ass and run his hands up and over her back to her neck. He'd pull her up and keep a hand on her throat, telling her to tell him how bad she wanted it.
When his next text came, she realized how long she had been in her thoughts.
You touching yourself already? You just can't get enough can you?
She was absently rubbing over her clit. Not yet.
Good. Wait.
Wait? Wait for what? Then her phone started ringing. It was him. She was nervous, her face red, her heart drumming against her chest. She took a deep breath and cleared her throat before finally answering. "Hello?"
"Hey, princess." His voice was soft and deep, perfectly at ease.
She rolled her eyes at the nickname and that helped her relax some. "What do you want?"
"Funny. That's not how you were just texting me."
"Bakugo," she hissed. "This is different."
"What? Can he hear you?"
She peaked over her shoulder just in case. "No," she said but she kept her voice down.
"Can he see you?"
"No."
"Great. Then start touching yourself."
She balked. "Bakugo, I'm standing in my kitchen."
"And I want you so wet you have to mop later." His voice was so quiet, so serious that it was almost like he was next to her, speaking straight into her ear.
She toyed with her clit again. "I... I don't think I can do it."
He hummed in thought. "Then come here."
Fear and excitement seeped into her spine making her rigid. "What?"
"Come to my place."
"Where your wife lives? Right now?"
He chuckled, a low rumble. "Yes. Unless you're scared."
"Of course I'm scared! Why would I do that?" Just then, Deku was coming down the stairs. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye and her heart rate was back up again.
"Because you want me to fuck you and make you come, that's why."
She hoped to God he couldn't hear that as he wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his head on her shoulder.
She was about to tell him off. She was going to tell him that it was too risky. "But-" He cut her off.
"Just come here. Have some trust, will you?"
She bit her lip just ask Deku whispered, "is everything okay?"
This was a bad idea. It had to be a bad idea. But then she said, "text me the address," right before she hung up.
She turned in Deku's arms just as he asked, "what's up?"
"Nothing really. Mina's just in crisis mode. A break up. I'm gonna check on her, maybe bring ice cream."
Oh his face crumpled sympathetically for the lie she made up about their friend. "Oh okay. Tell her I'm rooting for her." He gave her a peck and headed back up the stairs. He believed her lie.
Her phone dinged. Next, was going to see Katsuki at his house.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
She tried everything to relax on the way there but nothing would quell her mounting anxiety. "Fuck," she muttered almost every five minutes. She was really doing this dumb stupid thing for sex! Still, she wouldn't turn around.
She knew she was close as she started driving basically up a mountain. She had been there maybe once before for a sleepover with Kami and the girls but it was rare that they invited anyone over. She vaguely remembered it and how the driveway went around behind the mountain with a house carved in it. She slowed down before she got closer to the house and turned her lights off for extra measure. She texted Bakugo that she was downstairs and he told her to park outside the garage around the back. When she did, it didn't take long for him to come outside. She rolled down the window when he approached.
"Get out of the car," he commanded.
She wanted to ask all sorts of questions but he told her to trust him so she did as she was told. Seeing him in full view, she admired his fit body in his all black attire. He was in black sneakers, black sweatpants and a black tank top. It wasn't cold out really but it wasn't warm either. Maybe a breezy 65°F night. He was standing with his legs apart, thick arms crossed as if he was a personal trainer getting ready to whip her into shape. He looked her up and down then asked, "back or front, sweetheart?"
"What?"
"Back or front?"
She had no idea what he was referring to but she didn't want to keep questioning him. "Back, I guess?"
His mouth quirked up into a smirk. He gave her another command. "Go around to your trunk then."
She went and he followed behind her.
"Bend over, put your hands on the trunk." She did as he asked, splaying her fingers over the cool metal. She could only hear him approaching her and then she felt his hands on her hips. "Um, Bakugo?"
"Yes, princess?" He answered distractedly. He slid his hands up under the nightie she was still wearing. She only threw on a pair of sweats under it.
"What are you doing?"
He hummed as his hands roamed over her skin. He pressed closer just like she had thought about. "You chose back."
She waited for him to explain further but then he didn't. "...And what does that mean?"
She felt his frame shake with a short laugh. "It means I bend you over your trunk and fuck you from the back," she could hear the smile in his voice.
"And if I had chosen front?" She swallowed. Just then, he did exactly as she imagined. He wrapped a hand around the back of her neck and pulled her against his chest.
He spoke right into her ear. "I would have sat you on your hood and fucked you missionary."
She shivered as his breath slid over her ear and his fingers on his other hand reached for her nipple. "What about Kami? Could she see us?"
She felt him shrug. "If she really wanted to look, sure."
"Fuck," she mumbled mostly to herself.
"But like I said, you can trust me." He pushed her forward again, keeping a hand on her back and hooking a finger in the waistband of her sweats. He snapped it against her skin before roughly pulling them down a short distance, just enough to expose her ass.
She gasped, feeling the cool night breeze on her bare skin. He gave her ass cheek a slap and it seemed to echo around them. She gasped again and her back arched, her ass pushing into him. He grabbed a handful of her ass cheek in one hand and hissed before slapping her ass again. Her head fell forward, her eyes closed.
"Doll, the way I'm about to fuck you..." At that moment he took his hands off of her but she didn't move, didn't look. She listened to the ruffling of his clothes and the ripping of foil. She kept her hands firmly planted on the truck even as he took hold of her again with one hand on her hip. The other must've held the cock that was suddenly rubbing against her entrance. His tip spread the wetness that already pooled between her legs around her hole and over her folds. "Still so fucking wet. I can feel it. You're gonna feel so good," he stated like an absolute fact. He lifted her ass slightly higher as he began to push into her. Her body threatened to go limp around him as he stretched her out. Her moan got caught in her throat as she sagged against the car. "Fuck, yes, babe." He grunted as his hips reared back. He snapped his hips forward, diving back deep into her dripping cunt. They moaned together. He reached forward, still keeping a steady thrusting pace, and placed his hands over hers. He leaned his weight on her back as he pushed her hands forward keeping them under his. Then he fucked her in earnest and though he worried she'd tense up, she did the opposite. She relaxed against him, powerless to him rocking into her body at a fierce pace. She lifted her ass to meet him, take him deeper.
He groaned as he bottomed out. "Fucking amazing," he gritted. He moved one hand to wrap around her throat. He whispered in her ear. "You're being way too quiet for me, princess."
"Don't…want… Kami to hear," she whined between thrusts.
"Oh really?" He pulled out for just a moment to soak his fingers with her cream before he brought his hand down to rub over her clit.
She moaned out loud but stopped shortly after the noise flew out of her throat. He leaned back to speak in her again, playing with her clit even harder. "Baby, I will make you scream for me at least once." He pounded into her, his cock unyielding in her warm soaked pussy. They could hear the sounds of them panting mixing in with the wet sounds of their body. Soon enough, she was starting to tense. Good. She started to whine as her hips moved up and down, she was grinding her ass over his dick. It felt amazing. "Fuck!" Katsuki bit out. Yet again, she was going to make him come faster than he thought he should. She was clenching over and over again on his dick and he was not going to last. He pushed down, putting more pressure on her clit and finally she buckled against him.
"Holy fuck," she exclaimed as her body convulsed around him.
Watching her lose it made him lose it too. He grunted, his head falling back as he succumbed to his release, his fingers flexing around her throat as he thrusted wildly into her.
Finally, they stilled, trying to catch their breath and regain their strength. When he finally pulled out and removed the condom, he turned her around to face him. He smirked at the hazy look on her face. "How was that?"
She nodded, still somewhat dazed. "Back was good."
He chuckled to himself, his smirk turning into a grin. She was great for his ego. He stepped in close, placing one hand on her waist, the other on her jaw. "If you want good dick, you know where to find me." He gave her a short languid kiss, his tongue swiping through her mouth. He was planning to leave her there, leaning most of her weight against her car but as he turned to go, she stopped him, a hand on his waistband.
"Wait," she wouldn't meet his eye but he quirked an eyebrow anyway. "There's...one more thing I want to do."
She sounded quiet, far away. What else could she possibly want to do? She looked spent. She pulled him back and turned them so that now he was leaning against the car. Once he saw her sliding to her knees, he tried to stop her. "Ochaco, wait-" it was half hearted but she pushed on regardless. He was still half hard and she took his length into her mouth. "Ochaco, seriously." He tried again but his voice was weak and her mouth was stronger. Maybe all the strength was in her upper body he thought because she was hollowing her cheeks and gripping the base and his balls. "Oh fuck," he was quickly hard again in her mouth but she adjusted well to the added length and thickness. He was almost to the back of her throat.
She pulled off of him with a pop just to say, "Deku almost never lets me do this but I've been wanting for some time now to see him fall apart because of my mouth." She sucked him all the way in and all the way back out. "You'll do though."
If he laughed, it was breathless. His chest moved with the action but nothing came out. She was circling the tip with his tongue and as amazing as he felt, he truly didn't believe he could come a second time so fast. "Princess, I don't think that's going to happen."
She stopped for a full second to look him dead in his eyes with her smoky ones. "Wanna bet?" She didn't wait for him to answer, she sucked his balls into her mouth while furiously stroking his length and he almost buckled under the pleasure.
"Jesus," he tangled his fingers in her. She went back to his cock, her tongue running from base to tip. She closed her mouth around him, taking him farther and sucking harder. The noises coming from him were higher pitched than she'd ever heard. His body started to buck and she reinforced her efforts, shifting to put more energy behind her motions. Her head was bobbing as she took him in and out quickly. She was pulling another orgasm out of him and he couldn't believe it. It hit so hard and fast, he had no time to warn her. He tried to pull her away but his muscles tensed out of his control. Luckily for him, she pulled herself closer letting him come in her mouth. It wasn't the best taste in the world but seeing him like that, mouth open, eyes shut tight, struggling to stay standing, it was worth it. He looked down at her just in time enough to see her swallow and wipe her mouth off. He helped get her to her feet and he pulled her into his chest, kissing her like he'd never see her again. She started giggling as he peppered kisses everywhere.
"Bakugo, stop, I'm ticklish."
"Not surprising," he muttered, slowly coming to a stop with the kisses. "And please, start calling me Katsuki. I think we're better acquainted now." He let her step back out of his embrace. "And plus, I'll have you screaming my name soon enough." He winked and stepped away from her car.
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froody · 2 years
Text
No but for real, I’m pretty sure the reason that I had such a tumultuous childhood and wasn’t diagnosed with autism until I was 14 was almost entirely my mother’s fault. My mother is a hypersensitive person who sees any slight difference in tone or behavior as a slight against her. She also despised any boundaries I attempted to set. There were so many times where I said something and she got upset with me and I genuinely couldn’t understand why and she refused to explain to me what I did.
She purposefully upset me too. I grew up having severe sensory issues with clothing. I hated layers. I hated tight clothes. I did not wear jeans until I was around 10. I also hated dresses for sensory reasons as well as the fact I’m autistic. My mother would dress me in dresses. My mother would dress me in tight shoes. I hated having my hair brushed because I had a “sensitive scalp” and she always kept my hair very long regardless. I remember being 6, literally in kindergarten and we were going on a field trip. It was maybe 50 degrees and I had long sleeves on. My mother kept trying to shove me in a heavy down jacket and I kept fighting her. I said “I HATE you!” after trying to stop her from putting my jacket on several times. Me, a 6 year old. She cried and she sulked and she still brings up the time I told her I hated her when I was 6. She didn’t listen to me telling her no, she didn’t get another jacket or do anything to rectify the situation. 6 year old me couldn’t explain to her that wearing a tight heavy jacket over two layers of clothing in 50° weather felt like I was being smothered, felt so distracting I couldn’t move. I just lashed out at her because I didn’t know how else to express myself.
I was a pretty good student, never in trouble with the principle, I was a lonely kid who was bullied but fundamentally my mother was the only authority figure I couldn’t handle. My parents and school counselor could tell I was atypical so I was sent to extensive testing. My mother had my hearing tested to see “if the reason I never listened to her was because I was HOH”. I was tested for learning disorders (didn’t have that) and my IQ was tested (it was 98) but I was never tested for autism. Maybe because I didn’t have the normal indicators like lack of eye contact or speech delay. Maybe because I was a good student so they just assumed it wasn’t autism.
I think if my mother had noticed I wasn’t actively trying to hurt her feelings on purpose, if she didn’t see me as willfully disobedient, I would have been diagnosed earlier. She was the only adult I did not get along with. She was also a stay at home mom for most of my early childhood so her entire life was devoted to me which made things worse in some ways. She still hadn’t learned, she still likes to stomp my boundaries and argue with me. I moved 3 hours away when I graduated high school but I’ve been staying in her house for a few months since she lives in a city and I need medical care for my UC which I cannot get in my home in rural NC.
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sooblvr · 3 years
Text
dreaming of you
pairing choi soobin x gn!reader // genre fantasy au, fluff // warnings none // word count 1.6k
after yet another sleepless night, you turned off the alarm. tall, dark hair, a gentle expression and an awkward laugh. you knew his deepest secrets and comforted his sobs, yet he remained nameless.
the, literal, boy of your dreams visited you every once in a while since you were less than fifteen years old. he was no more than a couple years older than you and had somewhat grown together.
from imaginary friend to mystery man, it was hard to describe your relationship.
“i saw him again,” you began, “but it was different.”
yerin, who you had known for just over a year, listened attentively. enthusiastic and lively, she made a love story out of your odd situation. “did you get his name this time?” “he was crying. we were, i don’t even know where. it looked like a bedroom, could’ve been his.” “and what was he crying about? he does that quite often.”
you evaded talking about his personal problems. he confided in you, and even though you didn’t even know if he was even a real person, it didn’t feel right to spread his business. “his friends leave him out. he’s very sensitive, and they make him feel like the odd one out. plan things without him, constantly interrupt him, stuff like that that builds up over time.”
“if only you guys could meet,” she sighed dramatically, “you should ask him if he lives in seoul. for all you know he’s in the class next door. get his name too, full name, so we can look him up on social media or something.”
night after night you hoped to see him, but your meetings were sporadic and random. sometimes you were at an amusement park, others in a classroom. around your early teens you began keeping a journal. every dream you could remember from the first to the most recent was written. some dates as specific as ‘04/26/2012’ and others as vague as ‘spring of 2019.’
your most memorable one had a bookmark. he visited you the night before your birthday.
“your present is on my nightstand, but i’m afraid i wasn’t able to bring it with me.” “so you can control when you see me?” “well, no, but i had a feeling i would see you tonight. you’ll be eighteen by the time you wake up.”
both of you stood outside an elementary school. you sat on the swings and bet on who would go the highest. it was strange that no one had complained about your loud laughs and stubborn bickering. having known each other for so long, it always felt weird to ask anything remotely personal. it was like you were ashamed- if you were as close as you acted, shouldn’t you know this already?
“did you actually buy me a present?” “i was hoping i’d show up with it since, you know, our situation is weird enough to where i wouldn’t be surprised if i could bring stuff from my regular life.” “i guess that’s valid. what did you get me?” “remember the time we were at the museum? you liked one of the mood rings.” “go on.” “i found a similar one, and i got it for you.”
his birthdays tended to go by unnoticed. when you asked how he had spent his special day his voice got quiet, murmuring that he didn’t want to talk about it. as much as you wanted to know more about him, you were uncertain of his impression of you.
would he find it creepy if you asked where he lived? what he did in his regular life? did he have a job? was he studying? you figured he had to at least live in the same city as you. all your dreams took place at local places.
your questions were answered on none other than his birthday, which he spent in the tutoring center at your school. he sat by himself, and you saw him from afar. it would’ve been weird for you to just go up to him as if you were best friends. perhaps it was weirder to act as if you were total strangers. he returned his books to the front desk while you signed in.
he smiled at you with his characteristic softness, though you weren’t sure if he had recognized you. acting on an impulse, you caught up to him before he left, “happy birthday.”
there was the slightest blush adorning his cheeks. he laughed nervously, and you felt a sense of comfort from his familiarity. “thank you. i’ll tell you about my day later,” he was gone in less time than it had taken him to respond. and just like every other night, you hoped you would see him again.
“yerin, you don’t understand. he’s much cuter in person!” “i knew you liked him. i haven’t known you for long, but you’ve never talked about someone the way you talk about him.” “no, i couldn’t like him. we don’t even know each other-“ “yeah, yeah, that’s everyone’s excuse.” “we’ve only seen each other in our dreams, but there’s so much more to our lives than that. i act differently with you, and he probably does too. what if he’s a horrible person? what if he doesn’t want to meet me here? and if i never see him again?” “calm down with the mental cartwheels, i’m sure he’s just as great in person.”
you read through your journal, hoping that thinking about him before going to sleep would help you meet him. it didn’t. 
and even then, you wouldn’t see him through your dreams but through the campus counselors. sitting next to each other in silence felt excruciating, but you figured if he wasn’t talking it was because he didn’t want to. if only you could’ve noticed he was thinking the same thing.
as soon as you turned to each other, both hoping to make the first move, the receptionist called his name, “soobin, you’re up next.”
“soobin, no last name,” you told yerin during lunch.
“i don’t know anyone by that name, is he in our grade?” “probably not, he’s older than me.” “i could always ask around if-“ “don’t, i don’t want him to think i’m trying to stalk him or something.” “you’re never getting anywhere with this mister no last name soobin.”
it took months for you to coincide again. it was as if you had broken the biggest unspoken rule of all. though you were content with the newfound knowledge of his name, you regretted it as soon as you realized he had evaporated from your dreams too. 
“happy valentine’s day,” you were at a local park near the school’s campus. you were thankful this was a dream since the place was always incredibly full of people- mostly tourists. “it’s been so long since i’ve seen you.” he looked down, feeling guilty even though he had no control over your meetings.
before you could run out of time, you agreed to meet at the library you had met at. something about the plan felt familiar though. you looked for your dream journal when you woke up. you needed to settle your doubts.
sometime in 2012,
our first dream together was at a library, one much bigger than any of the public ones.
was that it? had your first dream shown where you would meet? you couldn’t remember exactly if the library from the dream had been the one at your university, but it was certainly odd that you remembered to make the distinction between the dream library and the public ones.
even if you were right, you didn’t know what to do with that information. did the other dreams mean anything? were they predicting the future? it didn’t make sense. you were so young in the dreams, how could they represent an adult relationship?
you brought your journal with you to school, ready to show him the coincidence.
“we’ve been to museums, gardens, cafés, even ballroom dances, and all while in our teens,” he went through every page. “do you think maybe they’re hinting at something?” “do you?”
you looked around while collecting your thoughts. both of you were clueless. until he recalled, “you know, i always found it odd that we never asked anything personal. we knew each other in our dreams. in every one except for the first.” “right. for some reason we also never questioned where we were. maybe we already knew.” “except for the library.” “because that’s where we were supposed to meet.”
the more you kept seeing each other, the more you kept finding similarities to your dreams. it was never intentional, but there’d be instances like sitting at the same table, the music playing being the same, or even the date being the same except for the year.
“do you remember this place?” “have we dreamed about it?” “the only dream where we didn’t really do much, we didn’t even talk.” “you kept saying there was something you wanted to say but you never did.” “i knew i wanted to say something, i just didn’t know what.”
he handed you a piece of paper. it was an ad for the place, “this was outside my door this morning.” “and do you know what you want to say now?” “i like you.”
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five-rivers · 3 years
Text
Medium Despair
For @sapphireswimming
.
Danny woke up gasping for air and fighting against his sheets. By the time he’d recognized his surroundings, he’d already rolled off his bed. He dragged in ragged, shuddering breaths. He could breathe. He could breathe. He wasn’t suffocating. He wasn’t at school, in his locker or otherwise. He could move he could stand. He did stand, skin prickling with the memory of electricity.
“Sydney?” he called, softly. “Is that you?” He could see a glowing form in the corner behind his dresser, and with that dream there weren’t a whole lot of other people it could have been, but it was polite to ask. At least in Danny’s opinion.
The ghost slid out, slowly, flickering. “Sorry, Danny,” he said, and he really did sound remorseful.
Danny might believe it more if it wasn’t 2:20 in the morning on a school night, and this wasn’t the third time Sydney had done this. Still, Sydney was something like a friend.
“What is it, Sydney?” he asked. “Did something happen at the school?” Casper High was one of the most haunted buildings in Amity Park, which honestly didn’t make sense.
Danny had done his research. The school was old, sure, but Sydney was the only person who had ever actually died there. That didn’t stop the Lunch Lady, Technus, and a whole host of others from hanging around the place, although most of those others were pretty weak. Hardly strong enough to even interact with Danny or other ghosts.
Sydney shrugged.
“Then what’s wrong?”
Sydney looked down at the ground. The puddle of not-light he cast on the ground – visible only to only Danny and other ghosts – rippled and glimmered.
Danny frowned. “I have fun talking to you during the day, Syd, but I do have to sleep. I’m human, you know?”
“I know,” said Sydney.
“So why are you here?” asked Danny, briefly spreading his arms in exasperation and the dropping them to his sides again. He was still unsettled by the dream he’d just had.
Being close to ghosts while he was sleeping was just a recipe for nightmares. They weren’t always about their deaths, but more often than not…
Sydney’s death was a particularly unpleasant one. Danny did not expect to get back to sleep. Not tonight. Hence his annoyance.
“I need to…” started Sydney, before trailing off. “I need…”
“Sydney?”
“Warn you.”
“About what?”
“Not what they seem,” whispered the ghost. He looked away and phased out through the wall.
Danny’s frown deepened. Usually, Sydney was much clearer than that. Sometimes, talking to Sydney, Danny forgot he was talking to a ghost.
Danny sat down at the edge of the bed and tried to work a kink out of his neck. He caught himself scratching at his skin as if he wanted to pull it off a minute later.
It was always like this since the accident. Especially after he had a dying dream.
Forcibly, he stopped himself. His skin was fine. There was no electricity flickering under his skin. He was alive. He was safe. His body was his body. His body.
(He was not floating above it, light as air, staring at its waxy pallor, at the glassy, empty eyes.)
He was alive, alive, alive.
Awake.
Not dead.
Slowly, he laid back down on the bed. He was alive, awake. A medium, yes, associated with more ghosts than could possibly be healthy, either physically or mentally, yes, but alive. Definitely, clearly, alive.
He didn’t like it when ghosts woke him up. Especially when they came with ominous warnings about the future.
Maybe Sydney would let Danny track him down tomorrow, but Danny doubted it.
.
“Something’s off,” said Danny, staring up at the tall front of the school.
“Yeah,” agreed Sam, “it’s Spirit Week. When the teachers participate in medieval rituals to brainwash us into supporting the troglodytes that ‘represent’ our school in sports.”
“I was going to argue,” said Tucker, “but that is about what it’s for, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” said Danny, “I don’t think it’s that. Probably. Unless there’s a ghost that appreciate the pun?”
“You appreciate puns.”
“I’m not a ghost,” said Danny, frowning at Sam.
“That’s true.”
Danny sighed. “I just have a bad feeling about this. I know you can’t see like I can, but… be careful. If you do see anything weird, let me know.”
“Hey, Danny!”
“Oh, I changed my mind. Kill me now, I want to be a ghost.”
Jazz ran up and threw an arm around Danny’s shoulders. “You left so early!” she said. “Are you excited about Spirit Week, too?”
“No,” said Danny.
Jazz paused, looked at Danny more closely. “You look terrible,” she said. “Maybe you should talk to the counselor?”
“Pass,” said Danny.
“You know, you’ll have to talk to me in more than monosyllables at some point.”
“Do I?”
Danny rolled his eyes.
“Anyway, I’ve got to go to talk to Mr. Lancer about my speech! Have a great Spirit Week, guys!”
She ran off.
“I will never understand her,” declared Sam. “But I think she does have a point about the counselor. Maybe they’d be able to help with the nightmares? At least the non-ghost-caused ones.”
“All my nightmares are caused by ghosts.”
“Eh,” said Tucker, giving a half-shrug.
“Will it make you feel better if I agree to go?”
“Yes,” said both Sam and Tucker.
“Ugh. Fine,” said Danny.
.
Danny walked though the deserted hallway, pass in hand, study hall abandoned behind him as he looked for the counselor’s office. He’d never been there before, but it should be around here somewhere, right?
A cold hand settled on his shoulder.
“You must be Danny Fenton! Your sister told me all about you.”
Danny turned to look up at a tall woman. She was dressed a lot more flamboyantly than Danny would have expected.
“Yeah? That’s me. Who are you?”
“I’m Penelope Spectra. Your counselor! Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong with you?”
“Uh,” said Danny. There was something unpleasantly an unexpectedly pejorative and assumptive about that statement. Weren’t counselors supposed to tell you that there wasn’t anything wrong with you? That your feelings were valid.
He shrugged. He couldn’t put his feelings into words.
(Couldn’t open his mouth for fear of cold leaking out past his teeth, his soul exhaled with his breath.)
(Why did he feel this way?)
“Why don’t you step into my office?”
The room was… not what he expected.
“Sorry about the dust,” said Spectra. “I’m just moving in. They upgraded me.” She smiled, showing all her teeth. “So… like I said, your sister told me a lot about you, and I have a few things I’d like to try for your laz—Excuse me. Your difficulty with staying focused. It happens sometimes with traumatic brain injuries, that a promising young mind can be—Well. In any case. I am here to support you and find a way for you to succeed. What’s troubling you?”
Danny’s ginger perch on the dusty chair turned into a frustrated slump. “Nothing,” he said. He pushed himself back up. “I should go—”
“Oh, just humor me,” said Spectra. “There has to be some reason you came. Anxiety? Stress? Social pressures?”
Danny shook his head and stood up.
“Nightmares?”
He sat back down.
.
Danny leaned over the table to whisper to Tucker during English, when they were supposed to be reviewing vocabulary words.
“Have either of you seen the counselor before?” asked Danny, after what was easily the worst week of his life. He was starting to have suspicions, but…
“Yeah,” said Tucker. “When you were in the hospital. He was pretty cool.”
“He?” asked Danny. “He?”
“Yeah?”
“I’ve been seeing a ghost for the past week.”
“Ghost therapist? Well, if it’s working…”
“It isn’t. She’s from hell. I swear. A literal demon from hell.”
“Exorcism?”
“Exorcism.”
.
Jazz didn’t often come to school after hours, but she’d left several important things and she was the student body activity director, voted for and everything.
Important thing #1, her speech, which she had to practice.
Important thing #2, the—what was that?
Already spooked by the late-night atmosphere, she ducked into a doorway and peeked at the place she’d seen movement. There weren’t many classes held down that hallway, and she didn’t come down this way often, so maybe she was just—
No. That was her little brother and his friends conducting some kind of satanic ritual over a wastepaper basket.
Their parents were terrible influences. She was going to give them a stern talking to when—what what what what WHAT—
What had she just seen?
She looked back around the corner to see the… whatever it was dissolve in smoke and fire and shadows. Then Danny and his friends started cleaning up as if this was a perfectly normal Thursday night.
Jazz… Jazz was going to process this. Later.
She turned around and walked straight back out to her car. There was, after all, nothing that important.
.
“So,” said Danny, leaning towards Sam on the bleachers as he watched his sister give her speech. “Looks like we saved Spirit Week.”
“Never say that to me again,” said Sam.
“But we did. Look at all this spirit-filled people.”
“You were literally the only victim.”
“But Sam~”
“It does seem less grim, though, doesn’t it?” asked Tucker, contemplatively. “You are no longer the goth bird of happiness.”
“Maybe a bit,” allowed Sam. “I think that’s just because everyone’s glad this week is over, though. No offense, Danny.”
“None taken. I’m glad it’s over, too.”
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royal-dread · 3 years
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Why I, a former age regressor, do not support age regression as it is shown in media
On social media there’s this video that’s going around of an age regressor that I’ve had many issues with. If you go in the comments of these posts you’ll have three types of people: the ones who make fun of it, the ones who try to defend it, and the ones that tell the ones who defend it how harmful these actions are.
In all of these posts, you know what I find? People who say “it’s a trauma response” “most people don’t have control over it” and yet also say “it’s a coping mechanism and dressing up is soothing” despite that being a completely different thing, and will go on about how “doctors recommend it” despite that making no sense
Let me clear one thing up: dressing up in baby clothing, coloring in coloring books, drinking out of sippy cups are all dress up games.
ACTUAL age regression is your body doing childlike things or sending yourself into a child like state to better handle your trauma
Let’s take me for example. I naturally did it from actual trauma. When I was about 6 mo, my mom stopped me from sucking on my fingers. But I was raised in a very abusive household and you know what I did? As I turned 2yo I started sucking on my fingers again and every night I slept with my baby blanket(the blanket that came with my crib). I would suck on my fingers originally at night, but then it got worse to the point where I was constantly doing it.
I didn’t stop doing this until I was 17 (last summer). I would wear long sleeves and hide my hand in it while I did it at school because I was constantly stressed out. You know how when you take away a baby’s binky, It’ll start crying and getting fussy or even throw a tantrum? That’s what I did. If we were doing a lot of activities that required your hands I would get overwhelmed and start to cry because I couldn’t calm down and the emotions over flooded my brain. You couldn’t hold a conversation with me because when this happened I would snap at others and say hateful things.
And not only this, but when this happened my mind would “shut down” as we said, and I couldn’t think. I couldn’t form any coherent thoughts because all I could think of was how I was feeling. There was no reasoning with me, all I could think of was me wanting to soothe myself, I couldn’t do my work, I couldn’t have long conversations with people, etc. I couldn’t tell people when there was something wrong, I would just sit there and cry because that’s all I could handle.
Now note: there was no dress up. There was no “coloring” or drinking out of sippy cups. These were habits that I had when I was young that I started again because my brain couldn’t handle the trauma.
Now, I recently went through tf-cbt (trauma focused- cognitive behavioral therapy) where I was told these were horrible habits to do and I should steer far away from them. My counselor told me that it was a clear sign of child abuse/child trauma and I had PTSD, and helped me get the diagnosis for places like school and work. She told me that age regression is a defense mechanism that your body takes so that you can handle what’s going on around you. Your body and mind regresses to points where you were at your calmest and use those habits/actions to give you a better control on yourself, but they make you unstable when you can’t do these actions and you end up doing way more harm to yourself than good.
Not only this but my habit deformed my mouth severely. I finally got approved for braces and when they did the X-rays and measured everything they told me I had about an INCH of space between by bottom and top row of teeth. I couldn’t eat in public because I had to bite with the side of my mouth. I couldn’t form words properly and constantly fumbled. It was embarrassing how awful they were and I ended up having the teeth behind my canines pulled because there wasn’t enough room to pull everything back. 2.5 years later and I’m STILL in braces because of how hard it is to fix this. And my middle and index finger are deformed too, they’re bent at awkward angles and I can’t hold them straight because of the 15 years of constantly being pushed that way.
Age regression is now a TRIGGER for me because it gets my blood pumping and makes me feel sick and I get so unreasonably angry at these people for not even knowing what they’re talking about. My head gets light and I can feel all the blood rush from it and I feel like I’m gonna fall over if I stand because of how many times I’ve tried to explain to people my situation and they’ve told me “fuck off if you don’t actually age regress or are a little youre an ableist fuck and there’s a special place in hell for people like you” when I’m the one who has an actual PTSD diagnosis and has gone through the whole speal of getting help.
Age regression is not okay. It’s not heathy. Your mind can’t properly handle the things that are going on around you and it shuts down and brings you back into a state of mind that your body knows it can handle. It’s unhealthy because you never actually face what’s going on and the issues only build and build until you burst because everything has been suppressed, not coped with. These habits can destroy your life and you can lose all your relationships (like with me) due to it.
If you “age regress” because it’s FUN you’re just playing dress up and are MOCKING people with an actual issue. Go fuck yourself if you really think that, because that’s like me saying “oh I pretend to have war flash backs because I think being a soldier is cool”
So for those of you who support this and say doctors recommend it: you’re lying. You’re literally lying right to our faces and are trying to justify you having playtime and not wanting to grow up when there’s actual people who do this because of trauma and get suppressed because they’re “not real agere. I HATE the term “little” because it’s making a FOOL of me, I’m not a “little”, I didn’t age regress because I had a choice, it was my body’s way of coping and it was HORRIBLE, and the way that media has made it into “oh yes look at this decorative binky I got and this new children’s coloring book” sickens me.
So yeah, I have a DNI. And that DNI says “age regressors” because I’m sick and tired of being grouped in a category of people who are using the term wrong and take away from people who do this because of actual issues in their life
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