#I can't even do homework anymore and that's what's making me panic

[lil-cherubb]

Im to the point where dying feels like my only option again

[l0v3tast3]

141 men finding out military!reader is only 19 after they break down from being overwhelmed and overworked??

✎ this idea bounces around my head a lot actually and now i have a reason to write it down finally :) i wasn't sure if you wanted them altogether or separately so i did it separately because it's easier lol. i kept it platonic and sfw!

✎ tags : gender neutral!reader, reader has a panic attack, descriptions of violence/injury/death, swearing, hurt to comfort, all platonic relationships, only half proofread

you're barging into the safehouse where he had said to rendezvous, gasping for air that your closed throat won't let through. the rifle held in your dominant hand is dropped as soon as the door is shut behind you, and you're clawing at the straps of your helmet and chest armor to get them off because it's too tight and it's too much and you can't breathe.

this wasn't your first mission. it wasn't even the bloodiest one you'd been on thus far. you could handle the gore and the death and the pure misery of the victims of these situations, because at the end of the day, you were helping them, right?

unless you were too late.

the family had been huddled in a corner, two children laying underneath their parents. there had still been two other rooms to check in the house, but you were running out on shaky legs.

he's in front of you now, looking down at you and asking if you're injured. you're sitting on the floor, heaving for breath and tears pouring from your glassy eyes.

"it's not- it's not fucking fair!" you cried out finally, trying desperately to wipe your face dry on your sleeves, but it only worked to redden your skin further. "why are these people doing this? how could someone be so cruel?"

he sighed softly, not knowing how to respond. the team didn't show emotions like this, they didn't deal with them, not like this. but they had all been here, where you are now. they had all asked why, again and again and again until the word lost all meaning.

"i mean, are we even really helping? god, these people are all already dead! why are we here? why- jesus fucking christ, why am i here?" you rambled; you weren't talking to him anymore. your voice was fizzling out, getting quiet enough that he had to lean closer to hear your unsteady words.

"i can't help these people," you sobbed. "i'm just a kid, i'm only nineteen, i can't- i don't know what i'm supposed to do! they said i was special! they told me- said i was so much better and smarter than everyone else, what a fucking joke!"

☆ simon "ghost" riley

he knew you were young, but fuck, if that didn't break his heart, there was nothing left that would. simon didn't talk to you more than any of the others on the team, but you were special, like a little sibling to the team, to him. always having enough energy and kindness to make up for the rest of them.

seeing you like this was a first, even for him, the man who had seen the worst of the worst. it wasn't like he was immune to emotions, but he had spent so long pressing them all down until he couldn't feel them that this was new to him again. all he could do was offer a hand on your knee that he hoped resembled something like comfort.

"we're almost done here. the heli will come for us soon," he said quietly. "you did good, like always."

he watched and waited with you while your sobs whittled away to sniffles, never moving his hand from your knee, where you had grabbed onto it with one of your own. most people knew not to touch him, that they'd end up with one less hand if they did, but you were an exception.

☆ john "soap" mactavish

at first, he doesn't do anything, just kneels in front of you and stares in shock. you're nineteen? you had always danced around the question that the team would tease you with, asking if you still had to work on your homework, but it was always a joke. now it wasn't.

instead of dwelling, john shifts and sits in front of you, almost hovering over you awkwardly as he tried to figure out what to do. sure, he was one of the more open people on the team, but when you're standing next to ghost, just smiling makes you look emotionally vulnerable.

he takes your hands away from your face and into his, placing them on your lap before gently holding your shoulders. "look, we're almost done here, alright? we'll be far away before you know it." that didn't help much, so he paused again.

the almost-distraught look on his face forced a giggle out of you. his worry turned to confusion, why are you laughing now? you probably shouldn't have been, but the big, scottish military-man fretting over you was kind of funny.

"alrigh', lass, at least something cheered ya up," he grumbled, but turned serious again right after. "higher-ups were right, ya know. you are smarter than the rest of 'em. maybe even smarter than us, yeah?" he said with a smile.

☆ kyle "gaz" garrick

it wasn't that long ago that kyle was where you are now, fresh out of school and eager to prove himself in the military. except it had taken him several years longer than you to reach where you both were now; he had had plenty of time to come to terms with the horrors he saw.

now he realized that you hadn't, because you were smart and you were better than most other people, so they had thrown you in, like a minnow in a piranha pond. by all means, you were doing wonderfully for your circumstances, but you could only keep going for so long.

he sat down beside you, shoulder-to-shoulder, and wrapped an arm around you to bring your head down to rest on him. he sat with you quietly, giving you the time you needed to just get it all out.

eventually, once you're more calm, he breaks the silence with bad jokes that he definitely stole from simon.

"why do twitter users make bad soldiers?" you lifted your head to stare at him incredulously before he continued, "because, they're too quick to retweet."

☆ john price

the captain knew how young you were. he never told you, but he hadn't wanted you on the team at first; the second he was handed your file and saw your birthdate, he started protesting. but it wasn't up to him this time. he couldn't spare you from this, and he knew that it would always weigh on him. he knew he would always remember this, you, crumbling in on yourself in a heap on the floor.

john came down on one knee in front of you and started telling you a story about when he had started, how one of his first missions had gone so terribly wrong. you honestly thought he was just going to tell you to "suck it up" until he told you about one family he had saved during that mission, one that was still alive today. they still sent him letters, even.

"all you need is one good save, kid. and you've got dozens already," he murmured. he wouldn't say it outright, but you really were one of his best.

you remembered the child clinging to your back as you ran out of a collapsing building, the woman who's leg you had managed to get unstuck from fallen debris, the man you had stopped from being executed just in time.

price smiled once he saw he had gotten through to you and helped, at least a little, and roughly patted your shoulder. "evac will be here soon, chin up now."

[thezombieprostitute]

Lloyd Hanson - Soulmate AU

A/N: I swear, I tried to ignore him but that only made things worse. @alicedopey didn't help!

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: Reader is kidnapped. Smut. Sub/Dom dynamics vs Dub Con?

The bag is removed from your head and you're finally able to get a look at your surroundings. It's a dark room with one light above the table. It looks like one of those police interrogation rooms in TV shows. The duct tape is ripped from your mouth and you hiss from the pain. You test the bonds around your wrists, tied behind your back, but they're too secure to wiggle out of.

The chair across from you is abruptly pulled back and you're face to face with a tall, broad, blue eyed man with a porn mustache. He's smiling at you. You say nothing, letting your confusion show on your face. He rolls up his shirt sleeve and you see his soulmate tattoo. It's an exact match for yours.

"You couldn't have just bought me a coffee," you ask, trying to keep from snapping.

"Sweetheart," he coos, "you're my soulmate. I have to get you used to what the rest of your life is going to be."

You raise an eyebrow at that, "I'm going to constantly be kidnapped and talk with over-the-top idiots?"

He laughs at your comeback, "not quite. But I do have a lot of enemies and I gotta make sure my soulmate doesn't panic, cry and rat me out if they get picked up." He leans forward and rests his arms on the table. "And I gotta say, you are a champ!"

"I'm good at getting kidnapped," you deadpan. "What a wonderful compliment."

"Not easily scared, sassy and sarcastic," he croons. "You really are my soulmate." He winks and you roll your eyes.

"How did you find me," you ask. "I rarely, if ever, let my soulmate tattoo show."

"Someone used a rare photo of your mark to draw me in," he admits. "Imagine my surprise when it was someone trying to kill me."

"And from there you were able to find me," you nod. "Any chance of untying me, now that you know I'm not trying to kill you?"

"I dunno," he leers, "I'm kinda getting hard at the thought of you being so helpless to stop me."

"I swear to whatever deity will listen, I can and will bite you. Literally and metaphorically."

"Metaphorically?"

"The reason you like me being tied up is because your limp dick needs to feel like it's actually capable of leaving some kind of imprint."

"Ouch!" He moves his hand over his heart, "you weren't kidding, Sunshine. That really hurt!" He leaned forward even more, grinning like a Cheshire cat, "do it again."

"The only reason you don't shave your mustache is because you enjoy getting looks from people because you're a needy man-baby who needs the attention."

"Ooooh, that feels so good," he leans back, chuckling. He makes a motion and someone comes up behind you and undoes your bindings.

"Thank you," you nod, rubbing your wrists.

"Ah, I was wondering where the niceness was." You raise your eyebrow again, silently asking him what he meant. "You work with people a lot and always get such glowing customer service reviews. That means you can at least pretend to be nice. But when I dig further, I find that you're a good neighbor who helps the old lady carry in her groceries. Helps the kiddies with their homework. All that wholesome stuff."

"I have social skills," you retort. "Kinda required for the job."

"You don't have a job anymore." You don't try to hide your surprise at that statement. His tone goes stern for the first time, "I can't have my soulmate wasting her time on other people. All of that goodness you do for others? You're gonna do it for me and only me from now on. I get to be the only outlet for your kindness and you're gonna pamper me every time I'm home."

“No I'm not.”

“Excuse you? I don’t see that you have much of a choice here Sweetie.”

“Not my fault you lack the imagination to see my options.” 

“Your options are to either tend to my every want and need or wallow in a basement on starvation rations.” You smile at him and enjoy the momentary drop in his confidence. “You will give me everything I want. In return, I’ll give you everything money can buy.” You throw your head back and laugh at that. He’s squirming a little, wondering what the hell is going on.

“You can have my submission when you earn it,” you coo. “And you don’t earn it by buying it.” You lean forward, putting yourself in his personal space. 

“What the hell is going on?”

You roll up your sleeve to show Lloyd the matching soulmate tattoo and put your arm next to his. At the first touch of your hand, you both feel the electricity that confirms the two halves have met. You reach out and gently rub his cheek with your hand and he leans into it, gently moaning before he catches himself. 

“You see, even though I don’t know your name, I can see right through you. Your reactions to my snipes and my politeness were quite telling. You do crave attention but you’ve only ever been good at getting negative attention. A soulmate could give you that positive attention you long for. Why else would you actually come looking for me? You could keep up that attention seeking behaviour without involving me but you put yourself at risk for the chance at meeting someone who might be kind to you. Who might like you, if only because they have to.”

“My name is Lloyd,” he grumbles.

“Thank you, Lloyd. I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but you definitely started on the wrong foot.” 

He goes silent but he doesn’t stop your hand rubbing his cheek. He wants to be angry at you. He wants to follow through on his display of force. But he can’t do that. He makes another hand motion and a door opens. He stands up, comes around the table and lifts you up out of your chair. 

“I don’t appreciate not being in control, Sweetheart,” he growls at you. “I may want all of your affection but I will not hesitate to use force if you try to take control from me ever again.”

“As I said, you can have my submission when you’ve earned it.”

“And how do I do that? You turned down my offer of everything money can buy.”

“Treat me like a queen or goddess, not a pet.”

Lloyd takes a deep breath and starts walking towards the door, taking you with him. You manage to keep pace as he leads you through several hallways, up some stairs and finally emerging into, what you can easily assume to be, a mansion. He doesn’t stop to let you take too close of a look. He leads up the wide staircase, to a set of double doors. He pushes them open and you see a giant, canopy bed. You also see things that, while you can’t name them, you're pretty sure they’re meant for BDSM activities. 

He pulls you towards him, wrapping you in his arms, and forces your face up to look at him. “You’re not the only one who can read people, Sweetheart,” he purrs. “You enjoy being a bratty, submissive slut. You want someone who can properly dominate you, satisfy that craving your cunt aches for.”

He walks you to the bed as he keeps talking, “you always tried to hide your tattoo because it was your one rebellion against a world that makes you feel helpless. You are kind to your neighbors because you’re too stubborn to let your customer service job kill your soul.”

He pushes you onto all fours on the bed and smacks your ass. “And your unusual calm at being kidnapped? You expect the world to fuck you over.” He smacks your ass again and you bite back a moan. “You expect things to be out of your control so you don’t sweat it when you’re proven right.” He smacks your ass a few more times and you can’t stop the moan that escapes you. As soon as he hears it he chuckles. “You don’t want to be treated like a pet? Fine.” He spanks you again. “But I won’t treat you like a goddess or a queen.” Another slap. “I’m gonna treat you like the dirty slut you’ve always wanted to be.” Another slap. “And I’ll make sure you never feel you have to be more than just the cock hungry whore you really are.” 

The spanking continues, hard, fast and painful, until your arms give out. Lloyd reaches his arms around you and pulls you up so that your back is flush against his muscular chest. One hand holds you up by your neck. His other hand reaches under your clothes and smirks at how wet you are. He gathers up some of the slick and starts rubbing circles over your clit. You start whining and gasping at the sensations but you don’t dare move your hips. You’re certain he’ll stop if you do anything he doesn’t tell you to and you don’t want this to stop. 

He whispers in your ear, “so long as you never try to wrestle control from me again, I’ll treat how you really want to be treated.” His fingers move faster and you whimper from how close you are. “Not like a queen or a goddess, no. Not a pet, either.” You’re focused on not moving, trying to make sure that his fingers continue to work their magic. “I’ll treat you like my dirty little slut who will do anything so long as I let her cum.” 

His grip on your neck tightens and he whispers, “cum for me.” Your orgasm hits you harder than you ever thought possible. He keeps his fingers moving as he whispers “such a good slut.” As the ecstasy ebbs your legs start shaking and he lays you down on your back. 

Lloyd licks his fingers and moans appreciatively. He pulls off your pants and underwear, whistling appreciatively at the mess you’ve made of your panties. You try to lift yourself on your elbows but he pushes you back down. “You move when I tell you to, Sweetheart,” he orders, his tone making you whimper. He winks at you, “now let me show you the real reason I keep this mustache.”

[jae-bummer]

Let Me Take Care of You

Request: Hiii can i request a Chan fic Where reader accidentally raises her voice at him while she’s frustrated with uni work or something and he gets really hurt and kinda puts her in her place (respectfully of course) and makes her realize that she was wrong and later she apologizes and they make up 🤭

Pairing: Stray Kids Bang Chan x Reader

Genre: Angst (with a happy ending)

.

Your finger tapped helplessly on the down arrow of your keyboard as you looked to the bottom of the discussion question and then back up to read the initial prompt. A familiar hollow feeling nestled itself just behind your ribcage and its mere presence made your brain start to spin. You could hardly even read the question anymore, let alone answer it. The panic spiral had already begun, and you knew there was nothing left to do but ride it out.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you flipped to a new page in your notebook and began scribbling. Maybe if you could start some sort of thought process on paper, you'd find your way to an answer.

It was hard to ignore Chan's presence as he stared just over his own computer screen in your direction. The two of you often worked in tandem, you on classwork and he on genius producer things. Taking his headphones off and setting them around his neck, he focused solely on you. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," you ground out. You obviously weren't annoyed with him, but by simply addressing you, he had caused your sensitivities to prickle. In situations like this, it was best if no one talked to you and just let you handle your own feelings. You were like a powder keg waiting for anything even slightly flammable to set you off.

Chan nodded to himself and bit his lip. "Want to take a break and grab some lunch?"

You knew he was trying to diffuse the tension coursing through your mind in his own little Chan way. Unfortunately, that wasn't enough to soften your bad mood.

"I can't even begin to tell you want I want to eat," you huffed. Your mind switched from the homework question and quickly flipped through your mental rolodex of dining options. Nothing sounded especially appetizing.

"We can get anything you want," he said with a sweet smile. He was trying to accommodate you, but all your brain could scream about was the thought of making another decision.

"Why can't you decide?" you muttered, switching back to your problem and beginning to scribble again.

"Okay," he hummed, looking toward the ceiling in thought. "Sushi? Ramen? I could get those little sausage things you like from-"

"You know what," you sighed, looking up at him briefly. "Why don't you just grab something? I'll eat when I'm feeling up to it."

"Y/N," he said quietly, obviously disappointed in your response. "You have to eat something. That's likely most of your problem right now."

"I don't have a problem," you huffed.

He was right. You definitely had a problem, and that wasn't even including the problem with your attitude.

"You know what I mean," he cooed. "You're hungry and overworked. You need a break."

"Is it that easy to say to others but not yourself?" you said quickly. Chan was just as bad when it came to his own needs.

He remained silent, narrowing his eyes at you. You could see him talking himself down before he tried again. "School is really stressful for you right now. I just want to help."

"Take care of yourself for once!" you said abruptly. The anger had reached a numbing level. All you wanted was to lash out and get him to leave you alone. "I don't need to be babysat. Last time I checked, I'm an adult."

"Then maybe you should start acting like it, yeah?" Chan snapped back. His words felt like a bucket of ice water thrown at your face. You instantly looked up, caught off guard by his well-hidden temper.

His eyebrows were furrowed, head tilted slightly, and his mouth made a thin line. It wasn't often that you saw him irritated with you, but when he was, it knocked something loose in your chest.

Trying your hardest not to cry at the situation you had orchestrated, you decided it was safer to look back down at your notebook. "I am acting like it. It's my responsibility to get this done and it has to come first."

"Wrong," he chuckled indignantly. "You come first. Always. Anything else can catch up."

"Do you even hear yourself when you speak?" you gasped. "You are literally the worst person in the world to give me this advice."

He lifted his brows. "I can admit to that, but at least I don't take out my frustrations on people just trying to help."

"You can't help, Chris," you hissed. "So maybe it's time for you to leave."

You regretted the words as soon as they left your lips. Chan let out a little huff of disbelief before springing quickly to his feet. Licking his lips, he stared you down. "If that's what you want."

Rather than accepting defeat and starting your groveling, you stared back. Chan smiled bitterly before beginning to pack away his laptop. After several minutes of tense silence, he finally swung his bag over his shoulder and levelled you with a look. Without another word, he walked toward the door and quietly let himself out.

"Overbearing," you clucked to yourself, trying to validate your words. "I have one father already; I don't need another."

You looked back helplessly to your computer screen and your vision immediately began to swim.

"Why did I do that?"

Letting a few hiccups bubble out of your mouth, you finally submitted to the tears trying to escape your eyes. You had really made a mess out of that one, hadn't you?

..

You knew that even if Chan was mad at you, he'd still pick up when you called. You wanted to actually apologize in person though, so first, you had to allow yourself to calm down. It was time to abandon the schoolwork at the table and take a long shower to clear your thoughts. Once that was complete, the next step of your plan was to actually attain food and use it as a peace offering.

After picking up a few things at several food places, you made your way toward the JYP building. Knowing him, he was probably locked away, pouring his emotions out into a song. He tended to be a recluse in general when it came to his music, let alone when you had given him a reason to want to escape.

Trudging up the steps and through the door, you went through security clearance before making your way into the elevator. Your palms were growing more and more sweaty, and you tried to think of a good starting point for your penance.

Before coming up with anything that was any good, the elevator doors were already sliding open and spitting you out where you needed to be. Taking a deep breath, you slowly made your way toward the familiar fogged glass of Chan's studio. Knocking lightly on the door, you waited only a few seconds before he pulled it open. His expression was still icy as he shifted his attention from you to the bags in your hands. "What's this?"

"Food," you cringed. "Can I come in?"

Giving a curt nod, he stepped backwards and cleared a path for you. He shut the door after you walked through and leaned against it, simply watching as you began to pull things out of bags.

"I got the rice cakes-" you started, but immediately paused as you looked in his direction. You expected to find some type of warmth in his eyes, but he was still very obviously mad.

You shouldn't have been surprised. Ignoring the issue wasn't going to get you anywhere.

"Chris," you began, standing up straight and wandering a little closer to him. You nervously shuffled your weight from one foot to the other. "I wanted to say...I'm sorry."

"Are you?"

That stung, but you deserved it.

"I said so many things that I didn't really mean," you said quietly, feeling those traitorous tears begin to gather again. "Well, I did mean some of them, but not in the way they came out."

He lifted his brows, remaining silent.

"You taking care of yourself is something really important to me too. It wasn't kind or helpful to throw your own challenges back in your face," you whispered. "I know you said it all out of concern for my well-being and I was just an overstimulated ass trying to let out the pressure of my own frustration."

Chan nodded, still not offering up a word. You would wait as long as he needed to formulate a response. Instead, you were surprised as he sprung toward you and crushed you in his arms. Letting out a light squeak, you grabbed for purchase.

"Thank God," he whispered into your hair.

"For?" you croaked. He was squeezing the air out of you, but it would be a content death if it were to happen.

"I really couldn't stand the thought of being upset with you any longer," he groaned. Kissing the top of your head, he then leaned back so he could look into your eyes. "I hate it when we fight."

"This one was all my bad," you sighed. "I'm sorry."

"And I'm sorry for escalating it when I could have just left it alone," he nodded, a sad smile on his face. "But you have to know something, baby. I'm always going to protect you, even if it's from yourself."

You leaned your forehead against his chest and sniffed. You didn't know what you had done to deserve him, but you must have been a martyr in your past life.

"Hey," he cooed, stepping backwards. He lifted your chin so you would look at him. "It's okay. We're okay."

"You promise?" you questioned, already knowing the answer.

"I promise," he smiled easily.

It didn't take much to close the gap and plant your lips over Chan's. His arms already wrapped around your waist tugged you closer, making your chest flush against his. He reached up, clutching the side of your face in one hand. Pulling away what could only have been a few centimeters, he whispered against your lips "Just let me take care of you next time, yeah?"

You nodded, pressing another kiss to his mouth. You could feel the smile behind his lips as he continued to kiss you back, really driving home just how okay you both were. When it came to making you feel comfortable again, you were pretty certain that Chan would kiss you until the end of time.

"Aren't you hungry?" you finally managed in between shared breaths. You weren't sure why that was your chief concern when you had a whole Bang Chan in your grip.

"Respectfully," he grinned. "I'll eat when I'm feeling up to it."

"Jerk," you laughed, slapping playfully at his chest.

"I'm not done," he purred, kissing the corner of your mouth. "But let's eat, then we can worry about all of the making up we have left to do."

[zukkaoru]

do you have any thoughts on time skipped knkdz? ada president kunikida has my heart so much i need content of him. also parent kunikidazai has my heart they’re girl dads to me :,)

(not a fic request just a thought)

sorry anon i am a firm believer in dazai not wanting kids 🙏 however i do enjoy ada president kunikida and will happily offer you some other time skip kunidazai thoughts:

kunikida.. struggles at first when he takes over as president. he wants so badly to make sure he's living up to fukuzawa's legacy and doing everything perfect - but exactly how fukuzawa did it instead of doing what works best for him.

all of the ada tries their best to help kunikida realize that they like him as he is and they don't need him to be fukuzawa 2.0; they just want him to be kunikida. but dazai especially, because they all know dazai is the one kunikida will listen to and believe most

they do have a Talk about kids at one point. dazai is convinced that him not wanting them will be a dealbreaker so he avoids that conversation like the plague until he literally can't anymore. but kunikida would rather have dazai, even if that means their family doesn't look like the Ideal Family he planned out

aya stays over sometimes, which dazai likes better as she gets older

aya and dazai had a.. strained relationship at first. because dazai doesn't know how to interact with kids and doesn't trust himself around them. but eventually, once he got over himself and actually had one normal conversation with her, he realized that she's actually okay

when aya is in high school, she comes over to visit and gossips with dazai while kunikida makes dinner

and kunikida helps her with her math homework ofc

back to the ada.. as president, kunikida finds himself turning to dazai for advice and help quite a bit. at first, dazai is put off by this because he does Not want to be the leader himself. he didn't want that with the mafia and he doesn't want it with the ada either

after a few months of dazai pulling away and telling kunikida to go ask ranpo instead, kunikida confronts him about it. and dazai realizes kunikida goes to him for help first because they're partners, not because he's expecting dazai to help him lead

dazai is more than happy to help when needed after that. but kunikida also tries to go to ranpo and yosano for advice when it's something that fits their expertise more than dazai's

of course of courseeee we still have canezai. by this point, dazai has grown used to his cane but he still has bad pain days - especially on days when it rains. kunikida is always more lenient towards him on those days

likewise, kunikida has bad days with his hand tremors, and dazai will force him to take breaks or go home if it's really bad

they're both good at telling when the other is having a bad day with just one look

i absolutely love the idea of them adopting a cat as well,, i've lowkey adopted lena's hc of them finding a cat that is blind in one eye and missing a leg to reflect dazai's disabilities

dazai and the cat take naps in the sun together <3 (kunikida has a photo album on his phone full of pictures of them napping together)

kunikida & dazai's apartment is always always a safe place for any of the agency members to come if they ever need anything. dazai doesn't like having other people in his space but after kyouka comes to them on the brink of a panic attack after being chased by a dog, dazai remembers he does actually like helping the people he cares about. and he accepts kunikida's "always open door" policy

they can't get married and dazai is too wary of commitment for that anyway, so instead of rings they get complementary necklaces. they both typically tuck the necklaces beneath their shirts so few people know they're their and even fewer realize what they mean, but it's less of a "showing off that i'm in a relationship" thing and more of a private agreement between them. they don't need anyone else to know

i'll stop there bc this is longer than i expected but. yeah <3 they <3

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Look After You | For As Long As You Need

What about a spidey fic? I love how you write those. Maybe Peter’s feeling insecure and the Avengers try to help? Idk, it doesn’t matter to me as long as it’s spidey. – anon

Read on Ao3 Part 1

Warnings: injury, bedrest, self-esteem issues, panic attacks

Pairings: none

Word Count: 2225

Recovery is hard.

Not just because broken ribs always suck and even his healing factor has its limits, not just because he's cooped up on bedrest when all he wants to do is crawl on the ceiling and make all of this go away, but because he's still here. In the Avengers' compound and he's not sure what the hell he's supposed to be doing.

"Resting," Yelena says helpfully when he mumbles as much, putting down her crochet project she's been fiddling with on and off for the last few weeks, "you got hurt, Baby Spider, now you get better."

"But I don't just want to lie here! I can still do things!"

"Things that don't involve you challenging Barton to another round of trick shots in the archery range?" She doesn't even look ashamed when he gawks at her. "Barton wants you to get better too, you know. That way he doesn't have to feel bad about beating you soundly."

"He wouldn't."

"Wouldn't what, beat you soundly or wouldn't feel bad about it?"

"Aunt Spider—" Peter is not whining, he is making his voice sound like this on purpose because his ribs hurt— "I don't just want to lie around in bed all day!"

"You could do your homework."

"I've already done all my homework!"

"You could catch up on studying for your tests."

"I don't need to study for those anymore, I basically have all the practice questions memorized. Besides, I'm not supposed to do that for more than four hours a day anymore."

"Oh? Why is that?" He mumbles something under his breath. "What was that?"

"…maybe I stayed up too late and passed out with all of my books."

"Is that all?"

"And spilled coffee and energy drinks everywhere."

"You really aren't helping me beat the rumors that you're my kid," Mr. Stark says, startling Peter while Yelena snickers. He comes into the room and sits on the edge of the bed, ruffling his hair with a comfortable fondness that makes Peter's chest hurt for a different reason. "And that does mean I'll sick DUM-E and U in here to make sure you stay in bed."

"But Mr. Stark—"

"Nope! No buts." He holds up a finger. "Pepper's enforced the no-work-on-bedrest rule enough times that I'm not about to help you break it."

Peter is not pouting, his bottom lip is just bigger than his top one. Exclusively right now. Right now is when that's true. Mr. Stark just sighs and ruffles his hair again.

"Cheer up, kid. We'll order your favorite junk food and binge-watch some awful action movies tonight, okay?"

"Okay, Mr. Stark."

"There's my favorite young adult." He stands, wagging a finger at Yelena too. "You still good for guard duty?"

"That's what I'm here for."

It's probably a joke. It's supposed to be a joke. He's known Mr. Stark and Yelena long enough to know when they're joking. This is, in all likelihood, just a joke at his expense and they're not actually serious about guarding him like he's a prisoner or someone dangerous where they can't afford to have him escape and cause trouble.

So why does Peter feel like he's been shot and stabbed all over again?

He messed up really badly on the last mission. They said they weren't mad, but not being mad didn't mean weren't disappointed and everyone knows that's worse. Maybe that's why they're guarding him. There's been someone in his room pretty much at all hours and he knows he's being watched on the cameras too. Is he being guarded? He's definitely being guarded, and that means they still don't trust him.

Is it because he's so young? Crying all over Yelena and trying to be strong when really all he did was reveal how scared he was and how young—what sort of person couldn't deal with a rightly-earned scolding? Is he really so immature that he can't take something so simple as being told he'd messed up when he knew he did? That probably has something to do with it; they'd seen how truly childish he was when he tried to 'bravely' insist that he's ready to be yelled at—why had he jumped right to the conclusion that he was going to be yelled at? Did he think they were so bad that they'd just go straight to yelling? No questions for his perspective? No consideration for his side of the story? No, he'd just assumed they'd be mad and yell at him and he'd gotten himself all worked up for nothing.

"Peter? Baby Spider?"

He blinks. Oh. He's started crying again. That's embarrassing. He blinks a few more times to clear his vision and sees Yelena staring at him with open concern. He tries to mumble something along the lines of—well, he hadn't actually gotten far enough to decide what it was he was going to say, but instead of words coming out, he just sniffles. She scoots a bit closer, reaching out to check something on the bedside table, and then cards her fingers through his hair. The light tingling sensation feels really good, and it just makes him cry harder.

"Shh, shh, Baby Spider," she's whispering, "what's wrong? Talk to me, tell me what's making you cry."

"'M sorry—"

"No apologies, Baby Spider, remember? I will not abandon you to pain."

And just that, just that memory of all of them being so worried for him, all of them clustered around that hospital bed, is enough to make him feel even worse. Because what right does he have to assume the worst of them? They're the fucking Avengers, who is he to think badly of them?

"Hey, stay with me." The hand in his hair pushes it back from his face. "Stay with me, look at me, that's it—yes, look at me. Peter? Are you here with me?"

"Y-yeah, Aunt Spider, I'm—I'm here."

"That's good. Can you stay with me this time? Can we try?" He nods again. "Good. Now, let's try this again: what's making you cry, Baby Spider?"

He sniffles, trying to focus on her question and not the roiling guilt in his gut or the soft touch of her fingers against his still-tender scalp. "I just want to be able to do things."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? But you didn't do anything wrong!"

"Sympathy, Baby Spider, not remorse." She takes the half-finished crochet animal and boops his nose with its nose. "I've been on bedrest before, it's not fun."

"It's not."

"That's why I'm here to keep you company, hm? So that our Baby Spider doesn't go insane while he can't climb on all the walls and scare us at two in the morning."

"I don't scare you," he replies mulishly, "just Mr. Stark."

"And it's wonderful and I will be uploading that video to YouTube once it gets long enough."

He snorts. "Good luck."

"Thank you." She nudges his cheek this time. "Are you feeling any better? Do you need anything?"

"Will you tell me another story, Aunt Spider?"

"Of course I will."

***

Yelena has to leave before movie night, which means someone else swaps out for guard duty. He hopes it'll be Dr. Banner, maybe he can convince him to talk about work even if they don't actually do anything. Or maybe Rhodey, because then he can just hear all the stories about Mr. Stark when he was younger and getting into trouble.

He doesn't get those. No, instead Captain Rogers comes in with that soft smile and sits down in the chair with a sketchbook and Peter is terrified.

Not because he thinks Captain Rogers would hurt him, no, but because Captain Rogers is Captain Fucking America and he's already fucked up enough in front of him that he probably thinks Peter's awful and too young and too immature and the fact that he's assuming the worst of him right now is only proving him right and he's going to freak the hell out and—

"Hey, hey, sweetheart, look at me."

There's a warm hand on his face. There's another warm hand on his chest. There's a soft voice in his ear. He's gasping and sobbing. When did that happen?

"Eyes on me, Peter," Captain Rogers is saying, and he really should be trying to listen, "that's it, just like that, eyes on me."

"'M here, I'm sorry, I'm here."

"Shh, shh, it's okay, sweetheart." Oh, god, not the pet names. "You're doing so well. Just keep breathing and keep your eyes on me, okay? Just look at me."

He keeps talking, keeps talking in that really low comforting voice that all superheroes need to have for when they talk to civilians, and Peter's not sure why that's twisting in his gut the same way the panic was earlier, but now his stomach is aching and he thinks he must mumble something about it because then one of his big warm hands slides down and he's about to protest but he rubs a soft, slow circle into the tender skin and it shuts him right up. It's just like him: gentle but insistent, and Peter's crying like a baby again because he's being so nice and Peter's being so mean to him.

"You're not being mean to me, sweetheart," he soothes, looking so distraught that Peter thinks he's being bad, "you're just crying. That's okay."

"N-no, I'm—I keep thinking you're—that I'm—"

"That you're what," he prompts gently when Peter shakes his head furiously, refusing to finish his sentence, "that you're what, Peter?"

"It's nothing."

"It's made you panic and hurt," comes the soft correction, "that's not nothing."

"It's stupid."

There's a pause, during which Peter's brain does its best to panic again, but then Captain Rogers is turning his face toward his with a terribly soft look on his face and that hand on his stomach is still soothing away the fear before it has time to form and he's going to cry all over both of them again.

"I know you're scared," he murmurs, "I know you're hurt. I'm not going to hurt you, I'm not going to be mad at you, I'm not going to kick you out of here or anything like that. You're one of us, kid, and we care about you. Not just because you're an incredible hero, but because you're a good kid. You're our good kid, no matter how much Tony and Nat and Yelena try to monopolize you. You're our Peter Parker, and we're here for you. Not just as Spider-Man, but for you."

…well, fuck.

"Is that it?" His face falls when Peter just nods frantically. "Oh, kid…I can't hug you right now, but—no, okay, we're gonna make this work. Come here, lift your head up…"

He slides one arm under Peter's head and shoulders, leaning over the bed and bringing him into a slightly awkward cuddle, but it's still a cuddle and Peter's crying all over again because Captain Rogers is trying to cuddle him because he's upset.

"Shh, shh, it's okay," he's whispering, "I'm right here, sweetheart, everything's gonna be okay."

"What did you do to my Baby Spider?"

"Shh, it's just Nat, it's okay." He turns over his shoulder. "I'm giving him a hug because he's scared and upset, if that's alright with you."

"Why is my Baby Spider upset?" She comes around to the other side of the bed, letting out a quiet noise and wiping a tear from his cheek. "What did Steve do?"

"N-nothing, nothing, he didn't do anything wrong, please—"

"Now look what you've done," Captain Rogers says, but he's still speaking softly, like it's just a joke, and he's pulled in for a kiss on the forehead, "you're making him more upset."

"Oh, Baby Spider, it's okay, we're just playing. You're okay, you're okay…" She picks up his hand and kisses his knuckles. "What's got you all upset today?"

"Jus' being stupid."

"No," Captain Rogers corrects, still soft, still gentle, "try again, sweetheart."

The lump in his throat won't go away. "'M scared that you're gonna—that 'm gonna lose this."

"Lose what, Baby Spider? Us taking care of you? Us caring about you?" How does she do that? "Oh, Peter, no. You're stuck with us forever."

"You don't have to threaten him, Nat."

"Is that what you think my threats sound like, Rogers?"

Peter laughs. It's more of a sob than a laugh and he's definitely still crying, but it is a laugh. And he almost wants to laugh again at how quickly the two of them melt. Captain Rogers keeps rubbing his aching stomach and Ms. Romanoff starts playing with his hair again and his eyes get heavy before he can even think about it too much. "We still—'re we still movie night?"

"Yeah, sweetheart, we're still on for movie night. You gotta stay awake long enough to tell Tony what you want for dinner, though."

"FRIDAY knows."

"Oh, she does, does she?"

"Peter has already informed Mr. Stark that the Number 12 meal has been requested."

"How many of those do you two have?"

"…'bout 30 I think?"

"Oh, Baby Spider, don't ever change."

[blackjackkent]

This redcap was much more powerful than the ones in the swamp, but not more powerful than us; Karlach basically one-shot it. And now we know for a fact exactly what hag we're dealing with. Hector is not happy about this development.

He is much more powerful than he was when they last met Ethel. And thinking about her earlier, he thought of her like an enemy out of a dream, as if it happened to someone else; he's changed so much since then.

And yet... now that it is immediate and real, the idea of facing her again feels unsettling, as if it recalls all those moments of terrible, incapacitating fear from his early days on the road. The urge to run, to panic...

Calm. He forces himself to calm. Ethel can't be allowed to continue her rampage of terror if he can stop it again. And there's one potential item of new hope - the redcap mentioned some book that Mayrina and her companions have... something that can truly hurt the hag, for real.

"That lying, thieving, scaly little *shit*," Mayrina snaps as he approaches her. "Thanks for knifing the bastard." She pauses, looks him up and down. "That makes twice you've saved me. I'm starting to think you're my guardian angel."

She was not particularly gracious about Hector saving her the last time, so this is a nice change.

"Good to see you again, Mayrina."

"You too. I've come a long way since we last met. Decided I was sick and tired of feeling stupid. Helpless. So I decided I wasn't going to be a victim anymore." She gestures at her compatriots. "This group is made of survivors. People like me who've been hurt by hags. I brought them together to fight back. We tracked a hag to the city, but lost her trail, right after she snatched a little girl."

(Oh, shit - does this tie into the quest to find Vanra???)

"Any connection to our old friend Ethel?" Hector asks cautiously. The redcap mentioned "Auntie", but... maybe there's some sort of mistake...

"I bloody hope not," Mayrina says, alarmed. "I see her enough in my dreams. No, Ethel is dead, thanks to you. But this one is no less of a nightmare. The moment I started investigating the missing girl, I felt the hag's eye on me. Next thing, I was sprouting wool and bleating up a storm."

Hector decides not to mention the redcap's comments for now. Mayrina already has enough to worry about. Besides... something else about her story is pinging. A girl, taken by a hag... perhaps more than one child has been kidnapped in the city, perhaps it's even likely, and yet when he first learned about Vanra there was that whole strange business with the memory-modified Fist guard...

"Wait," he says slowly. "Is this Lora? She said her daughter disappeared in the Blushing Mermaid..."

Mayrina's expression lights up eagerly. "That's her! And she vanished in the 'Maid? That sounds like a lead! We'll do what we can to find the girl but our chances are a lot higher with you on our side. Check the safe in the back - I've done my homework on hags since we last tangled with Ethel. Take whatever you need. I know it by heart anyway."

OK, Hector is actually quite proud of Mayrina; she's come a long way since the swamp too. And she's being much more gracious about working alongside him, and she's clearly incredibly determined to settle this matter.

We get a cool staff for helping out here.

Hector doesn't use a quarterstaff anymore but we'll give this to Gale when we get back to camp.

The safe she mentioned has two books in it. The first is a journal and study on a weapon we can use against the hag to get Vanra back:

(Wait, hags reproduce by EATING children? Alive and whole? Swallowed like a snake eating an egg? That's fucked up.)

The other's a book about general hag weaknesses:

Got it. So when we fight her (pretty sure it definitely is Ethel reborn again, based on this), we've got to burn any nearby mushrooms.

The safe also has the material to make one (1) copy of the Hag's Bane item, so we'd better be very careful how we use it to get Vanra back. We'll only have one shot.

Adrielle is not taking things very well.

"This is all my fault. Mayrina was hexed mere days after the dragonborn joined us. Why didn't I see it?"

"Hags and their agents are liars and cheats by nature," Hector points out.

"That's no excuse. I know what they're like, yet still I welcomed the dragonborn with open arms. Mayrina was right about you. Thank you - for saving her when I couldn't."

Poor kid. :( Her diary nearby suggests that she fell into a terrible state after her past hag encounter - drunken stupor, basically - and Mayrina was the one who pulled her out of it and gave her purpose again. Hopefully we can deal with Ethel for good this time and give them all some peace.

The Blushing Mermaid isn't far off, but I'm gonna go back to systematically working through the Lower City and we'll get there soon, hopefully. :D

[rosalesbeausderholle]

I genuinely don't know what's wrong with me, I don't know if it's due to being too much on That Damn Phone TM or some type of ADHD or both or neither but I've been suffering for so many years. At first I thought it was just my depression which made it hard to keep focused (which coincided with my final years in highschool which were the only ones where I really had to spend any extended period of time studying, before that I had enough with half an hour of studying) but then I got better and I still couldn't pay attention to anything anymore.

I am unable to start studying for any subject until it was 10 pm the previous night. It takes two pages to lose my concentration. I am unable to finish a project until 6 a-fucking-m the day it is due. How did I make it through uni with relatively good grades? Who the fuck knows? I spend hours and hours and hours working but 80% of that time is lost because first I have to fight against myself to not let my mind wander. I end up in a panic whenever I have three tasks at the same time. I've tried everything under the sun, every app, every method, every reward system.

This year wasn't the first year I had a job, but it was the first year where I had a job AND studied AND had an internship thing at the same time. I feel like I haven't had a single moment of rest since October. I had to do extra hours to finish my work tasks because I couldn't concentrate on them during work hours, which took time from my university homework hours which took time from my internship hours on and on and on. The last two weeks of last semester I was sleeping 3 hours a night. Working on finishing my papers from 6 am to 3 am, only to barely write anything the whole day because again 80% of the battle is against my brain.

I thought this semester would be different, I only have two classes, my job and my thesis, how bad can it be? Well, here I am, 40 days to handing my thesis in. I still only have 10 pages out of 60 (aiming for 30 this weekend though because I'm delusional and my mom will pay me cash money for it).

And I've gone to different therapists and psychiatrists and they're all like "well it technically can't be ADHD because the difficulties started when you were 16" and yeah technically and I'm sure social media addiction did not help at all but like the only reason the difficulties started when I was 16 was because I never needed to actually study before. Like I could learn everything from one reading because it was easy to me. As for homework, if I could get away with it I did wait until the very last day to do it. The days in which I didn't do that was when I did my homework while my mom (who is a teacher) tutored my cousins so we did all our homework together. Even now I need her to help me stay focused by setting me challenges to finish on time.

I don't know, I hope desperately that with some medicine this would be better, but I'm tired I'm so tired of this being my life, I'm convinced I'll end up having a heart attack just from sheer stress. I don't know what to do anymore.

[auroras-void]

One thing I think gets underlooked as a pain from ADHD.

It makes it so you never go home.

I mean. My body goes home every day that's true. But my mind, that stays at school until the last day of class.

I have no sense of time. My memory is frustratingly unreliable. I always have unfinished work.

If I ever forget that. It gets worse. I forget what time the class I've been going to all year is. I miss assignments. I can check and double check, but I know if I don't keep it in my mind it will vanish.

Class tomorrow feels no different than class in five minutes. So I have a choice. Either be constantly thinking about school. Reserve twice, thrice as much time to it as I think it actually needs, cancel plans just to spend that time procrastinating, because I know I can't actually evaluate how long something will take me with any degree of accuracy. I fill my mind with stress all the way up until just before the deadline because it's the only way to get myself to actually do it. Knowing that strategy becomes less effective each time I use it. It becomes easier and easier to take less seriously, or refuse to endure the increasing amount of pressure it takes for it to function. Each pass in the cycle only making it more painful to endure the next, increasing the amount of anxiety each turn of the wheel adds.

Until, eventually, I either buckle under it, or I step out of it by giving up.

Or.

I forget 10% of my assignments, miss another 10, and I show up late or absent just as much. Knowing that it becomes a pattern, and as I relax that number will only grow steadily until it gets to 100. All the while I feel posessed by my own body. My mind warps my sense of reality as more and more starts to slip out of it. Things can even stop seeming real anymore. And not a single thing happens.

Only one of these gets me any work done. So that's what the world pushes me into. I've cracked under the weight of so much frivolous bullshit so many times because of this awful cycle. It's nearly killed be a few times, though I've at least gotten past that.

Lately it's been even worse though Because I know the stress isn't healthy, but I also still don't want to give up.

Naturally this means I get all of the stress without any of the work done. I don't care enough to do it, but I also care too much to ignore it. So I do neither. I feel like I'm in a personal hell that's largely of my own creation. Or waiting to get out of Limbo again and again. I feel like I'm going insane trying the same thing over and over again expecting different results.

And it's ridiculous. Because this doesn't help me. None of it does.

My grade in a class is governed by how heavily homework is weighted, not on my understanding of the material.

I rush through my work in an anxious panic, I skim the textbook and rely on my skills in reading the language of academia to interpolate the rest of the data. I've failed classes I loved. I've passed classes I ignored. The structure is just so fundamentally hostile to the way my brain works, nothing saves me.

I need discussion, I need collaboration, I need something engaging, I need to make something. I need to have the time management delegated to someone who's capable of it.

I get that sometimes, and when I do I excel. At my best I work incredibly hard, I learn things fast, I can do things quickly.

I lack the autonomy to shape my world to nourish that. So instead. I get anxious. I rot.

Forever.

[doxiedreg]

I still have so much school trauma to work through and come to terms with. In general I accept what happened happened and I can't change the past. But on the other hand I'm so fucking angry at the system that failed me and even neurotypical kids. The educational system as it is now is not good. It's just test after test, essay after essay, constant deadlines, constant homework it's just not healthy. Learning should be fun. I loved learning new things as a kid, I was a hard worker. But then school just overworks you, just keeps demanding more eventhough you are at your limit. Even though your mental health is already shit because you are bullied like hell and nobody does something about it. Already shit because you don't have any close friends because you don't even know what to do anymore together with other people your age because you aren't really interested in most teenager stuff. Already shit because you are constantly suffering sensory overload from out of control loud classes, crowded hallways, people invading your personal space and purposeful scaring you by popping lunchbags and drink cartons. Some teachers are just 0 fun to listen to and make the subject they are teaching the most boring thing ever. Dreading whenever it's someone's birthday because it means there will be balloons everywhere which you are terrified of. Having to explain to teachers over and over why you can't do certain assignments or why you need more time. Physical education being the most shitty thing ever as I can never keep up with the others and it makes me feel pathetic. Also the exercises are often not fun for me at all. Just.. school did so much damage to me.. they denied for a very long time just how stressed I was because I still had good grades and behaved in class. My parents kept telling them how stressed I appeared at home. That my hair was falling out, that I was trembling that I didn't want to eat that I was struggling. But they just shoved the concerns away. It wasn't until I had a panic attack in class at school that they assigned someone to me to help me. But it was too little too late. I started going home early because I was just too mentally unwell. They started to question this as me slacking off because I was lazy or something even though I was grossly overworked. In the end I became suicidal and extremely depressed and stressed and hit rock bottom and stayed home. At first this was meant to be temporary but in the end I just dropped out because I couldn't take it anymore. It was a very dark time..and it took a lot of therapy and time to crawl out of it...school had destroyed my self image. I thought of myself as stupid and lazy and not good enough, never good enough no matter how hard I tried. I wondered if my classmates missed me, it they even noticed I wasn't around anymore. I never got closure on that. But luckily I made a new support system for myself online. There were some toxic friends in there at first but it's been a few years now that I've kicked them all out and I feel loved and cared about and seen. In may this year it will also be a year that I've lived on my own, in my own studio apartment without housemates and it also did wonders for me. I mean it's also been tough and brought new stressful things to deal with but I like being in control over my environment..I hope to get a dog in the future to help me with emotional stability (I miss having a dog on my lap and petting them the most I'm so touch starved but I'm not fond of touching people) and getting out more but I'm not ready yet. For now I have my lil fish guys and snail guys to look after and that's already nice

Anyway.. sorry for rambling..I just had to let that all out, it was building up too much. Ever since the sun started shining I feel like my brain is processing so much stuff in the bg i guess the book post triggered some of it to come outward

To my friends: even if we don't talk much, I love you all so much and I'm so happy to have you all in my life. You make me feel loved, appreciated and supported. You make me feel seen. I am so grateful to have a loving support system, even if I'm a lil shy to reach out sometimes still.

Just you guys are all great, remember that

[chaesvoguerice]

give me your (friendship)

Song Yuqi was a student at the most prestigious school, and at the same time she was working a few or more odd jobs to sustain the nice apartment that she was currently living in. She did her homework on time, was never even once late to her jobs or school attendance, and seemed to have such an excellent fashion sense that people always complimented her. But at the same time, she cooked whatever and whenever she wanted, walked around her apartment in her underwear, and played Valorant in her free time. 

She had it all, really. All of her classmates were jealous that she didn't have parents on her back about school and chores, her different bosses at her jobs always praising her. Except...

Song Yuqi has no friends. 

All of her coworkers are always much older than her, or if she's babysitting, the kids are too young to be her real friends. So she's left with fantasizing what it'd be like to meet her online Valorant friends. 

Until she finally finds an opportunity.

She's excusing herself from class to use the bathroom, but really she just has to text her job which shifts she wanted to take for the next week. That's when she walks in on a trio of girls vaping. She locks eyes with one of them and in slight shock at what they're doing, she reaches again for the handle to the restroom door that had just closed behind her. 

"Wait!" One of them calls for her, making her freeze, "You not gonna, like, tell the teachers, are you?"

"No, I won't."

"Good, you promise, little puppy?"

"Puppy?"

Another one exhales, taking the device away from her lips. "Yeah, you look dumb. Like a puppy."

"O-okay. Yes, I promise," she bowed slightly, recognizing that they were seniors to her.

"Is it because you came in here to do the same thing?" Her eyes twinkle. 

Yuqi's breath hitches. "Um, y-yeah, but I forgot mine..."

One of the girls who hasn't spoken yet, digs in her purse for a few seconds before pulling out a little black item. "Here, I've got like five extra in case my parents take them away," she says casually, extending her hand to give it to Yuqi.

Her heartbeat quickens significantly as she looks at it, real panic setting in. If she did this, these girls would consider her as their friend, right? That's something of her dreams, being someone's friend. If she doesn't, her lungs will still be healthy, but no one will be her friend at this school if she's marked 'uncool' by these girls. So, a shaky hand reaches forward to take it.

Then, a bathroom stall opens, a particularly short girl standing in between the vape and Yuqi. "Yeobo, you finally made it! Can't believe you skipped class for me, huh?" She pins Yuqi against the stall door, smiling. Her voice drops to a whisper, like it's only meant for Yuqi, but still loud enough for the other girls to hear. "I can't wait for you to fuck me until I can't feel my legs anymore... but it's got to be quick because my next period is gym– Oh shit!" She turns dramatically to the other girls, covering her mouth. "I didn't know there were other people in here! Oh– let's go, jagiya." The mysterious girl that was kind of saving her took her sweaty palm and led her out of the bathroom, all the way down the hall and around the corner.

Yuqi tried to take a deep breath, but it was getting to her. If this girl hadn't been here, she actually would've done it. There comes the zap in her chest and she suddenly can't breathe anymore without it faltering. She drops to the ground, hoping it will stabilize herself since she was probably going to fall anyway. Her breaths get so short that she's barely breathing anymore, and this is it, this is it, this is her last moment on Earth. She's going to die, with this stupid panic attack because she can't even control hersel–

"Hey, look at me. Look at me." 

She lifts her head to look at the girl, unsure and embarrassed and feeling all too vulnerable in the open hallway because if anyone comes out of class she'll be teased for the rest of the year about this and–

"What do you see, hm? Focus on me, don't think about anything else."

"Y-your.. Hair?"

"Yeah? That's amazing, you're doing amazing. What color is my hair?"

"B.. black."

"Do you like that color?"

"Yeah.. yes."

"Now look at my lips, okay? See how I'm breathing? I want you to follow me, are you ready? Breathe in, a big breath, just for me, okay?"

Yuqi shakily breathes in, eyes focused on nothing else other than the girl's lips, holding her breath and waiting for her.

"Good job, now breathe out, just as slowly as you breathed in."

Yuqi exhales, rather quickly, and she hopes the girl didn't notice. But she did.

"Slowly, alright? Let's try again. Deep breath in, ready? Follow me, remember, slowly..."

This went on for a good ten minutes until Yuqi finally calmed down. 

She buried her face in her hands, cheeks red. "I'm sorry.. I'm sorry you had to see that..."

The girl cracks a big smile. "No biggie."

"But why.. Why did you save me?"

"Those girls are bitches, seriously, I just had to. You sounded all innocent like you'd never even seen someone vape before, let alone use it yourself. And actually, I'm sorry," she laughs, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable with that weird excuse to get out of the bathroom."

Yuqi starts to laugh as well. "I'd actually be fine if you keep calling me jagiya," she wiggled her eyebrows.

"Stoppp, that was embarrassing, really. But what's your name?"

"Yuqi. And yours?"

"It's Soyeon." She tips her head, biting her lip. "Will I see you again, jagi?"

"You can come to my apartment after school if you want? I have work, but it won't be for long."

"Are you inviting me to a date and letting me stay at your place when you aren't there? Wow."

Yuqi blushed. "It's the least I can do..."

Soyeon stands up off of the floor, pulling her up too. "Well, I guess I'll see you after school!" She gave her a fistbump and then twirled around, which made Yuqi laugh again because it was so random and cute at the same time. 

And it helped her actually look forward to going back to her lonely apartment at the end of the day.

[tr4g1c-g1rl-j4m13]

May 16th, 2023

I'm in third period right now. I don't really know what to do cause we're supposed to be studying for the EOC that's on Thursday, but like I suck at studying... and I'm so close to having a breakdown at any second. This school has literally traumatized me, the only reason I stay is because of my friends and because I got into an art program for next year. I'm coping by listening to anything Ryan Ross is in, he's literally the only reason I'm staying alive. My goal in life is to meet him one day, like I'm so determined. Another reason I'm living, besides my friends and Ryan Ross, is because I have three concerts coming up this year. I swear this school makes me want to end it all sometimes, they literally have suicide hotlines on the back of the ID's. Another goal/motivation I have is to stay alive long enough to see MCR live. If someone even looks at me weird today, I will break down. Like I have such a fragile emotional state right now. Literally, I cry a little bit every time a song from 'Pretty. Odd.' comes on like it's so comforting, but it hits me like a ton of bricks. I can't take all these tests and homework right now. Each of my classes has work for me, I'm failing two classes, I have a C in like two other ones, a B in two, and one A. I'm struggling so much, and I know it's because I'm lazy, but I really don't have the motivation to even try anymore. There are so many assignments on top of the tests, and the most important classes are the ones that I'm failing and the ones I have an EOC for. I hate this school with a passion, literally earlier in the year, my counselor told me that I should go back to therapy. I think I'm gonna have to take Biology again because I'm doing so bad. Like, my parents, especially my mom, always say that I'm smart, so it "doesn't make sense why I'm not doing well in my classes and on my tests." I just think that I'm gonna explode any second. Last night, I was doing Biology homework while crying to a Panic! album. This school always says that their top priority is their students.. that's literal bs. I know the simplest answer is to lave the school, but it's all I know, it's like Stockholm Syndrome. I think that if I leave everything will go wrong. And I'm trying to convince myself that I'm not into a certain guy because all my friends say that I deserve better. I guess I do, but he's a nice guy, but I keep trying to put into my head that I deserve better, because I guess I do technically. Like anytime I bring him up to a friend they just make a disgusted face, I only have like 3 supportive friends, and then the other ones who say they support it make contradicting statements. I think it's just easier if I just got over him, it'll just be better for me. Like, I've done it before, lied to myself till I believed it, so how hard could it be to do it again? The last time I did this it took about 2-3 months, and they totally sucked, but I was down bad for the last guy so this one should be easier to get over.

Have a better morning, noon, day or night than I'm having <3

-jamie :((((

[thunderdownunder]

I THINK THIS ALL THE TIME HOLY SHIT.

I imagine for the people who say that, it was because they were really hot and popular and grew up with a ton of money and literally zero responsibilities. I also imagine a lot of them were teenagers in like, the 70s.

I was a fat, poor, awkward, WEIRD nerd with at any given point 2 jobs after school desperately trying to balance multiple AP classes because we were literally told if you didn't take all APs you weren't getting into a good college and your life was over, so even though I mix up numbers almost professionally I thought 'yeah I can do AP calculus that'll be fine' and no, no I could not.

I'm in my 30s now, some shit that rules about being an adult that profoundly sucked as a teenager:

I don't have homework. holy shit, I had so much fucking homework as a kid. Like, 8+ hours every night. EVERY. NIGHT.

If people are shitty to me, i stop talking to them and never talk to them again. None of this thing where you get bullied by 'friends' and can't do anything about it because of...something?? Idk, I let people treat me like shit. Fuck you, I am a delight.

HOLY SHIT MENTAL HEALTH STUFF! It's work, right? It's not just like, magically I turned 25 and my brain wasn't poo anymore. Therapy is an ongoing thing just like you need to shower on an ongoing basis. I found medication and a prescriber that work for me, and I don't have panic attacks anymore. I don't have horrible stomach problems from anxiety. So many weird symptoms I had as a kid that I didn't even realize were my response to extreme stress (dermatographia, absolutely zero bladder control) I now have UNDER CONTROL.

I'm still poor. I'm still fat. I'm weird. But also: I like myself. Holy SHIT as a teenager I fucking HATED myself. The constant self-doubt over whether I should or shouldn't do something because of how I'll be perceived by the world at large. I still have a little of that with work, just because the job hunt is so fucking grim jesus christ, BUT for me as a person? No, fuck you, I'm a delight. I am hilarious and super smart and incredibly kind and protective and creative and fuck you for thinking otherwise.

I have SO many hobbies I had as a kid that stress and bullying just burned out of me. Shit I did in middle school I abandoned because I was getting made fun of so much, that I am JUST NOW at 33 revisiting. DO WHAT YOU WANT.

I work from home, and I get my shit done, and my bosses praise my work and like me, and so you know what that means? I have hella free time to snuggle my dogs and I'm not trapped in a goddamn school for 10+ hours a day.

All of this is to say, it does really genuinely truly get better. Finish high school, definitely, and finish college as cheaply as you can (legit no one cares where you went or even what your grades are). And then? Fuck that shit. If you have good, caring, kind, supportive friends, keep them, and if they aren't, if they're constantly questioning and belittling you and trying to make you into a fundamentally different person? They are not your friends. Dump them. Find your people, however weird they are. I promise you, they exist. And go be the you you want to be. Be the you who little you would look at and say WOW THEY'RE SO COOL. Do that. Impress you as an eight year old. You have your entire goddamn life ahead of you to be the titan you should be.

Hey btw I don't know who needs to hear this, but those adults telling you that your teen years are the best years of your life? Yeah I don't know what the hell they're smoking, either. I'm 29 and every once in a while I just sit here and think "man, it sure sucked to be 14. Glad I never have to do that again."

[jamiebluewind]

I really empathize with this, and not in the ways you'd probably think.

When I was a kid and teen, gay people made me feel uncomfortable, so I said a lot of dumb stuff. Didn't discover trans was a thing until my mid 20s and didn't find out about nonbinary until I was 30. Other kids thought that I was weird, so I never really had close friends, much less friends or family that accepted me. I was sick a lot. At one point, a doctor told me I should make plans for my funeral because I was losing any ability to use my left side and communicate.

I was in my mid 20s when I got diagnosed with severe hemiplegic migraines and got on meds that helped. Later, I was approved for disability.

I came out as bi in my late 20s and discovered I was gender fluid at 30 (it took another year to find the word).

In my late 20s and early 30s, I would find the people that would become my closest friends. They were on sites like Dragon Cave, Sims 3 forum, and Tumblr. When I broke my radius and ulna (forearm bones), it was them that checked on me and even flew down (while my family only insulted or ignored me). I realized that the people that ACTUALLY cared about me lived a few states away (actually near each other), so a year (and a lot of panic attacks and bullying from my family) later, I moved to be close to them.

I had a panic attack a few months after moving. I was in my best friend's kitchen (the one from Dragon Cave). That's where her parents found out what I had been through (she hadn't told them anything because it wasn't hers to tell) and decided then and there that they would be my family (now they're Mom and Dad). I was sent to a good psychiatrist who diagnosed me with ADHD, generalized anxiety, major depressive disorder, a panic attack disorder, and PTSD (recently also tested for autism) and put me on meds that would help. I also tried several therapists and a few programs, my new family supporting me the whole way. I also discovered I was nearsited and had a double astigmatism and floppy eyelid syndrome, so I got glasses (I also sleep with my eyes taped now so they dont get irritated anymore!). Meanwhile, my birth family stopped talking to me (which turned out to be a good thing) because I came out (my new family was nothing but supportive).

My best friend (from Sims 3 forum) got married and had a family. Her boys became my nephews and she introduced me as her sibling.

I got my own place with other my best friend (from Dragon Cave/daughter of mom) and it's honestly been great. I got approved for aide services too, so I get the help I need now.

In my mid 30s, a migraine abortive was FINALLY invented that worked on me (before that I only had maintenance meds so a lot of days laid up in bed), helping me to have more independence and less sick days. Then, I found out one of my friends from Tumblr was in a bad home situation. I told Mom and bestie and together we all got her out and moved her here. She's happy now and lives with mom and dad while she goes to college (there's a running joke that mom adopting more kids is just a thing now). She spends weekends at my house doing homework, practicing ASL, and playing/cursing at video games (she's currently beside me muttering Italian curses at Elden Ring XD). Honestly I can't imagine not having her here now.

So... yeah. I empathize with Bodh on multiple levels. Also, I know what it's like to be safe and happy and loved now. It's a hell of a thing.

A letter to my younger self (with a blocked nose so breathing is hard)

[slugbaby]

I love that literally everyone I know has left Tumblr, so now I can safely shout out into the void.

Yesterday was my second time going to therapy. I probably made the right call of making them be just once a month things, cuz I get drained afterwards. I don't know if that's an old age thing, or just a "you can't escape this anymore and now you have to fight all your demons at the same time" thing. It feels weird to have not mentioned Thomas by name yet. To not have talked about my history with alcohol or eating disorders.

Yesterday she had toys left out from, I assume, a very young client before me and I asked if I was allowed to play with one of the toys. She said go for it, so I instantly grabbed a little rainbow squishy ball with all these little wiggly bits. I'm not sure there was ever a single moment I wasn't shaking that thing back and forth while I spoke. Thankfully, it didn't feel like she was distracted or annoyed by it. I hope it exists at the next visit or that she at least remembers it helped me talk. I know I won't just ask for it myself.

But we talked about the ways I've found to protect myself as an adult. I made a mental note that I say words like "dumb" or "stupid" a lot, though she didn't mention it herself. We talked about fear of rejection and I felt that, while that is sometimes a factor, it isn't the main thing that keeps me from trying to do stuff. But I couldn't decide what was. Though she didn't call it a homework assignment, in my head that session ended with two.

I had attempted to make plans with a couple friends - both plans fell through before they began. I considered it homework simply from the first visit when she said to try to do things I would typically avoid due to anxiety. When I said they didn't pan out, she said follow up. Try again. I reached out to one girl, but she's left me on read like she always seems to. I don't know if I'm supposed to try again in a week or two or just leave it alone. I don't want to annoy people... I can ask the other girl in a week or so about plans, but it's hard when everyone you know has children.

The other "homework" assignment was to try reworking the way I speak to myself. I've already done that in small doses, but I can admit it needs a bigger overhaul. Oh, and also to try to sit outside more often. Just to see how much, if at all, it improves my mood.

My biggest thing I dislike with therapy is how abruptly it ends. Noticing how she glances at the clock several times to end the session promptly and cuts off conversation so effectively with "when are you ready next?". I feel like I need the last few minutes to be de-escalating time. I've left both times feeling stretched thin. Found myself having breakdowns on the drive home. But yesterday was the worst. Even compared to the last time I went to therapy and got a speeding ticket just because my emotions were so high I wasn't fully aware of what my body was doing.

But I went by the bank first to try to correct a mistake. Nothing went wrong, but I wasn't able to correct the problem. Made a phonecall to my father and he agreed without any stress on my part to fix it himself. I set off to find food at a cafe I've been to pretty recently, feeling good that I got something done with little to no stress. And then I glance at the GPS and see "u-turn" and begin mentally preparing myself for it. But as soon as I do the U-turn, it wants me to do it again. It wants me to do an endless loop of U-turns. I park four separate times, trying to not panic breathe. My brain starts jumping between thoughts, shitty memories, of my ex and my mother. My mind hits me with their voices, loud and angry, the memories of getting choked or getting hit or getting violently grabbed... I broke.

And it made me realize that I had been right during that session earlier. It isn't rejection that often stops me from doing anything. It's fear of getting hurt. Getting yelled at. Fucking up and incurring wrath and punishment. I don't know if that's child brain or not. Probably. I don't feel like I've ever actually matured into adulthood - I think the only brain I've ever had is child brain. I don't think that's a bad thing, but it hasn't done me any favors.

I sent voice messages to my husband through Facebook Messenger while I drove. Trying to calm myself. Realized I was going 70 and slowed myself down. Kept catching myself panic breathing and tried to do deep breaths. Listening back to the messages now that I'm calmer, I just hear fear. Panic. That urge to fight against tears because tears make situations worse, but ultimately falling apart and being unable to keep it at bay in the last message.

It feels weird to hear your own voice and get flashed back to elementary school. To see yourself again with the pigtails and giant flowers in your hair, dressed in overalls you hate, staring into a mirror while you cry. It feels weird that the image doesn't feel unfamiliar or like it's had over 20 years between that moment and this one. It feels current. Present. Familiar and intimate.

I haven't been mentally the same since my vasovagal syncope episode during my wedding this year. Something broke and I no longer have a handle on all the things I shoved away over the last 30 years. If I ever did at all.

So I'm left holding a shit ton of broken glass not knowing if I try to throw it away, piece it all together into one giant mosaic, or if I should simply find a bigger rug to sweep it under. I don't know how to deal with all the things I couldn't deal with to begin with.

I mentioned that I had looked up the treatments for PTSD. She smiled, asked if I'd read about EMDR. I told her yes and she says, as I already knew, that that was her area of expertise. But I wasn't ready for it. Not until I could talk about things without being vague. At first I was briefly offended, because I had been talking nonstop in both sessions, but then realized I am holding back. Not intentionally, it's just happening. I don't know how to not do that - I guess if I keep having breakdowns, it'll happen faster...

I don't think this is a bad thing. I think it's beneficial even if horrifying and painful. I don't even dislike her, which I didn't expect since she's a woman. It adds a layer of anxiety, but I did manage to leave the car after 30 minutes so it's a start.

I dunno. I'm rambling, maybe, at this point. I just needed to word vomit somewhere with the luxury of knowing only my husband would find this to read of the group of people I personally know. I'm not sure if it helped because I'm still drained and ready to pass out. My panic attack or whatever it was yesterday took all my energy from me. I have things I need to get done, but I guess my body wants me to rest first.

Kthxbye

[thesecretingredientislove]

So.

I am at one of the worst moments of my life. I'm probably not but I feel I am.

(I will vent here about several traumas. It could be triggering for some. Please be careful and don't read in case you think it will affect you)

I am autistic, grew up without a diagnosis , was abused by a tutor, my father abandoned me and came back several times. The people I lived with were... well, flawed and while I understand I guess that wasn't ideal for a child. One of them was an alcoholic, the other (the one that abused me) was traumatized as a child so... bad stuff.

My mom did her best, but she grew up in the same environment and she is (and was) depressed. She was a teenager when she had me. We are both autistic and the world doesn't treats us very well.

I spent most of my time with the person that abused me, so she's the person I fear the most and also I really care about her and want her to be happy. She would beat me or shake me for almost any autistic trait I displayed on front of her. She would spoil me for a moment, and the next minute she would treat me like garbage. This happened since I can remember. I developed maladaptive daydreaming as a consequence. I can't remember not daydreaming almost all the time.

From elementary school to middle school I suffered from bullying that only got worse each year.

Around the time I was in middle school we started going to a near catholic church. I started believing everything that was said there until I read some philosophy books and questioned the priest. I was kind of kicked out the church and I faced for the first time the thought that, perhaps, I want going anywhere after I died. I developed thanatophobia and started having panic attacks that I would try to hide from my abuser, if she saw me she would start yelling at me.

Highschool was better and I made friends but once school was over everything change. My former friend ghosted me and I try to understand why but I have failed. My friends started doing drugs and I did too. It's not a nice experience. I don't want to go to those reunions any more.

I chose the wrong career, I changed it. That enraged my abuser who told me I was a failure. I had a hard time getting into a new career.

Pandemic came, I was stuck with my abuser for almost two years. I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia. She would force me to clean the house even when I told her the pain was unbearable.

I entered a new career and I was so happy. I moved with my mom to the city.

Now I don't think I can with this career. I am not capable. The house we're living in is really small, we don't have money, she's having a surgery. My eldest dog died almost a year ago. I haven't recover. One of my dogs is sick and the vet already told us his health is going to be deteriorating. My friend forgot to donate blood for my mom and I don't know what's going to happen. The psychologist says its okay to be different. The teachers don't think so. I am not keeping up with the expectations they have.

I can't focus, I can't do homework, I've been sleeping to much and can't get up for school. I've been having suicidal thoughts, but I don't want to die, death scares me too much and I can't do that to my mom and dogs.

I can't keep up with this and I don't know what to do. I keep thinking that everything will be better, that I'm making progress. I'm not sure anymore.

I am not sure how to deal with all of this.