#I think it’s safe to say that I’m very mentally ill

[buckys-estrella]

I think this was an unnecessary call out…

[rosicheeks]

I hope your days aren't as heavy and dark, I am sending all the positive thoughts your way. You deserve the best, fairy princess. <3

😭

[mixmangosmangoverse]

(Vague post)

Popular analog horror has gone down the antisemetism rabbit hole so I no longer feel bad about using a vaguely similar idea. I think we need a Jewish analog horror ARG in fact

[madelynraemunson]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 (𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲) 𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐞 ✨ — a steve harrington one shot fic

modern!sperm donor!steve x modern!pregnant!fem!reader

Summary: It’s hard to find ‘forever’ in a world that glorifies hook-up culture. After multiple failed relationships, you start to believe that your dream of having a family someday will only be just that — a DREAM. That is until you stumble across The Baby Gate Foundation, a family planning organization that helps qualifying Strangers start families with one another.

disclaimers — fluff overload, strangers to friends to lovers, some angst, reader goes by “Honey”,

NSFW — very brief smut, p in v sex (unprotected), breeding kink, cream pie, soft!dom steve

word count — 6.0k words

“So… what’s your favorite color?”

It’s the most aggravating question to ask when wading in the Dating Pool — and unfortunately the most frequent. But you figure at least asking about Steve Harrington’s favorite color is a good ‘precursor question’ when trying to get to know him. After all, you are the one carrying his child.

“Cerulean,” the handsome stranger from across the table replies.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a type of blue.”

“You could’ve just said blue.”

“What’s the fun in that?”

You issue him a touché type nod as you gently place your folded hands over your growing bump…a bump that was a byproduct of an ordeal that he wasn’t even present to participate in.

Before you knew him as Steve Harrington, he was just Stranger #021 whose sperm donation gave you the gift of life. The gift of having a little one of your own.

And it was about time you started a family. It has been a dream of yours — once you bagged your dream job and got to travel the world — to get married and have kids. But apparently the person you spent 6 years with did not share that dream, despite having told you he did in the beginning stages of your partnership.

Are you crazy? How dare you think your ex wanted a family after he explicitly told you he wanted you to marry him and have his kids? Silly lady. You actually thought he meant what he said.

And Steve Harrington’s baby daddy application seemed impossible to resist. The Baby Gate Foundation disclosed to you that Stranger #021 has no physical ailments, was a star athlete in high school, isn’t a carrier for any chronic illnesses, and passed a mental health and drug clearance.

Your baby is very likely to come out healthy and, now that you’ve gotten a good general idea of the guy, will hopefully inherit Steve’s luscious chestnut brown hair, his radiant smile, sparkling eyes, and kind nature. A healthy baby. A healthy family. It’s all you’ve ever wanted.

“Your stomach feeling okay?” Steve inquires.

“Yeah,” you smile. “I just like touching it sometimes. It still doesn’t feel real.”

When selected, Steve jumped for joy. And you bet he started doing cartwheels when your pregnancy test came out positive. My dick still works! he remembers saying.

Having been a foster parent to many teenagers in the past, Steve also felt ready to have a kid of his own. But then his first long term girlfriend of three years cheated on him, and then his next long term girlfriend left him when she realized a family with him was not what she wanted. Steve was practically on the same boat as you. And the stars aligned…

“So I was thinking…when you’re in what’s considered a ‘safe’ point in your pregnancy, say second trimester… we can do cute pregnancy announcements,” Steve suggests.

Your eyes glimmer at the thought.

“As coparents of course!” Steve makes sure to add. “A-and then we can have a gender reveal. We can choose the theme and ideas for it later but I’m just thinking of an intimate cake cutting thing….pink frosting, obviously for girl…”

“And cerulean for boy,” you smirk at him, finishing his thought.

He chuckles at your comment. “Yes, cerulean for boy.”

You two then begin to brainstorm the minor details. Signing up for parenting classes. Check-up appointments. Your baby registry. Ironing out the details so that you both can relish in the pregnancy as much as possible.

When you’re done, Steve then pays for your lunch and you two go separate ways. But not before a long, grateful hug.

“Thank you,” you whisper into his ear. “You’ve made my dream come true.”

“I am just as indebted,” Steve insists, giving your back a loving rub. “I’ve always wanted to be a father.”

You decide to not let go until Steve breaks the hug. But little did you know that was Steve’s plan too. So you both stand there, in the middle of the mall food court swaying back and forth, waiting patiently for the other to let go because to be honest, you never know what a simple ‘I see you’ hug can do for somebody.

Finally, Steve pulls away.

“Listen, uh, Honey,” he says. “I hope this doesn’t sound weird because technically we don’t really know each other…but I already care about you so deeply. You’re the mother of my child. I want to be as involved as possible.”

“I care about you too Steve,” you beam at him. “And I feel like our healing journeys are coming to an end. I’m so excited to come together with another person who has the same goals in life.”

And that is all that’s said during that exchange. You hope that throughout your pregnancy, you and Steve can have more coparent dates to really get to know each other. You love that he feels safe and trustworthy, willing to put his all into the child that he, and many many medical experts helped you create. And you hope that as your baby grows up, you will find a lifelong partner like Steve someday.

“So how’d it go?”

You’re over at your best friend, Eddie’s apartment talking to him about your day. Eddie has been your best friend since middle school, bearing witness to every wonderful milestone — and tragedy — that has plagued your life ever since. Your decision to become a mother on your own, and coparenting with a stranger is no exception.

“I like him!” you exclaim. “He’s very sweet.”

“Do you trust him as your Baby Daddy?”

“If I didn’t, it’d be a little too late for that I’m afraid.”

Eddie would’ve been more than happy to be your donor, and without a doubt, you’d trust him in being fully present in the child’s life. However Eddie comes from a home with a turbulent family dynamic, and unfortunately is a carrier of the addiction gene along with many other illnesses. Eddie didn’t want to risk doing that to you or your family. So it works out that he and his boyfriend Henry are the ‘Fun Uncles’ or as he calls them “Funcles” instead, and Steve is the dad.

“But yeah I like Steve,” you circle back. “He’s funny, sweet, looks like he takes care of himself. Even paid for my food. Oh, and as a bonus, he uses big words.”

Eddie snorts as he strides over to the fridge. “He uses big words.”

“Yeah, like cerulean.”

Your bestie cocks an eyebrow and smirks at you. “What’s that?”

“It’s a type of blue,” you smirk back at him.

He releases a theatrical gasp. “Ground-breaking.”

Your banter is cut short when Eddie’s partner Henry walks through the door.

“Hello, hello.”

“Hey, Henry!”

You watch as the quiet, tall blonde dressed in dark-denim-tailored-to-fit struts in with a grocery bag, closing the door behind him with his foot.

“Hi, darlings.”

“Funcle Number Two,” Eddie greets his partner.

“I thought I was Number One.”

“You are,” Eddie shrugs. “In my heart. If you have an issue with your title and rank, I’d talk it up with Honey.”

“You can be Number One,” you grant him permission, eliciting a betrayed gasp from Eddie.

“Thank you, Honey,” Henry smirks, shooting a sassy look at Eddie.

Eddie issues a sour variation of that smirk to Henry, only to be met with a rough nudge to the ribcage. The two black cats then assemble to unload the groceries, all while focusing their attention back to you, their appointed ‘golden retriever’ of the bunch.

“Speaking of titles,” Henry adds. “How was your meeting with Daddy Steve?”

“It was wonderful,” you respond. “Was just telling Eddie how much I like him.”

Henry grimaces, understandably so. Your taste and judgment in men throughout the years have been nothing short of concerning. But because you didn’t willingly seek Steve out on a shady online dating app, at a dive bar at 2 AM, or on the dance floor of a sweaty small town nightclub, you figured you were in the clear.

“We’re gonna make it work no matter what,” you insist to your seemingly doubtful friends. “Even if there are discrepancies, we agreed it’s our kid before anything. And I’m ready. I told you guys myself that if I don't meet the love of my life by the time I'm 29, I'm having a baby by myself."

Aside from the two "Funcles", you have been the only consistent person in your life. And in this day and age, two people don't need to 'be together' to bring life into this world. And even if they are together, it’s not a happy home sometimes.

All that matters in this arrangement is that both of Baby Harrington’s parents are involved. That was Steve's promise to you.

Let's just hope he keeps it.

“That’s the head… and those…are your baby’s feet.”

You and Steve watch the monitor in awe as the sonographer scans your belly. You are now 20 weeks along, and doing a routine ultrasound check up.

First trimester was a nightmare. Constant nausea and vomiting so you’re not even sure that you’re stomaching those pre-natals, intense mood swings, and breast tenderness so bad you essentially begged Steve to just chop your tits off.

Regardless, you are healthy, and the baby is healthy. And now your camera roll is filled with pictures and videos of every frame of every ultrasound you get done, as well as audio recordings of Baby Harrington’s heartbeat. You and Steve even share your content amongst each other, just in case the other missed something that the other captured. It’s a wholesome exchange, really.

“Baby’s kicking a lot. Almost looks like they’re swimming in place,” the tech comments.

“I did swim and water polo in high school, could be why,” Steve explains.

You bat your eyes in adoration at your friend. He gives you a warm look back.

“Just like Daddy,” you say. And then Steve rests his palm atop your hand.

For the first time in a long time, everything feels complete.

“So, would you like to know the gender?” the sonographer inquires.

Immediately you and Steve bombard her with anxious-filled “No no no no”s. You decided to go with the cake gender reveal idea, and Henry and Eddie were in charge of having it made.

“We’d like for it to be a surprise,” Steve smiles. “But we sure would like an envelope with the gender in it. Honey’s gonna give it to her friends to give the baker.”

“Sounds like a plan to me!” the tech grins widely. “I will have it printed out for you shortly.”

She wipes your belly down so that there is no more ultrasound jelly on your stomach before leaving. Meanwhile, you and Steve are absolutely giddy. You are now halfway through your pregnancy and couldn’t wait to hold Baby Harrington in your arms.

But as exciting as everything is, it is also anxiety-inducing. No parenting book could ever prepare you for bringing a kid into the world. There was so much more that needed to be done. So much to do. And it seems like there was so very little time to do it.

Steve has another question for you. “When does the baby usually wake you up?”

“Baby’s a night owl, strangely,” you reply. “I’ll feel some moving and stuff at night.”

Steve sighs and shakes his head in thought.

“Man, I hope kid doesn’t wake you up at night too much when they’re born. That’d be god awful.”

“I know, I’ve been thinking of that too,” you groan. “And all the diaper changes I’ll probably have to do before putting them back to sleep. Ugh, I don’t even wanna think about diapers.”

You didn’t want to think about post-partum shit. So far, you’ve only been focused on pregnancy shit, and that shit is already overwhelming. While you seem well-equipped for pregnancy itself, the thought of actually being a fully-functioning parenting unit alongside Steve brings on a new set of fear.

Suddenly you and Steve look up at each other.

“Oh shit!” you shriek. “A crib! We need a crib! A stroller.”

“And a whole nursery,” he gulps. “And a baby monitor… A swaddle! A carrier!”

———

You and Steve are moved in together by the end of the month. Platonically, of course. With a capital P.

You both figured that raising the baby under one roof would be the healthiest way to approach your parenting situation. Both of you already get along really well and have similar communication styles. You two also have the same expectations from each other. And not every child is blessed with two parents living together in a happy home. It’s a luxury you both refused to take for granted.

So eventually the non-traditional-housewarming-slash-baby-shower-party rolls around, in efforts to help prepare for Baby Harrington’s arrival. It ends up being a huge success. Additionally, the party gave everyone a chance to mingle with one another, your friends meeting Steve’s friends and jokingly calling each other "in-laws". Robin and Eddie immediately grow very fond of each other, having deemed each other best friends after their third time meeting.

“How long do you give it?” Robin asks Eddie as they watch you and Steve work together to build the crib. “You know till they…”

They observe as you and Steve bicker back and forth about whether or not a section of the crib was installed the wrong way. You argue that it was, and Steve, still firm in his masculinity that he felt like was slowly chipping away (he can’t help it sometimes) insisted that it wasn’t.

“I know how to read, Honey. And besides, if it’s the wrong part, how did I screw it on perfectly?”

“I don’t know, Bob the Builder,” you fire back at him. “You didn’t have to 'screw it on perfectly' to get me pregnant.”

“Til that baby is born,” Eddie estimates.

Eddie chuckles at this. He’s been with Henry for many years, but you two have beat him at the argue-like-a-married couple thing. Slyly, he sips his beer.

“…The very latest.”

“Steve, I’m hungry. Wanna go to Rally’s?”

The cravings have officially kicked in (finally). But of course, it’s at the least convenient of times.

“Woman, it is 1 in the morning...”

“Yes, and I want Rally’s.”

You give Steve a light thunk on his fluffy head.

Now that you two live together, sleeping in the same bed was bound to happen eventually. But it is the least of your concerns. In a world where people go ‘ghost’ after getting what they want, laying your head down in the same bed as Steve is the farthest thing from intimacy. You’re also afraid of the dark, and being in his light calms your nerves.

Except for tonight. Where the only thing that’ll calm those nerves is a Wild West burger and some fries.

Steve huffs, clearly too tired to argue with your hungry ass. But also, you’re the mother of his child. You have the hardest job, and having a late night snack when you felt like it is the bare minimum of what you deserve.

“Let’s go.”

You smirk to yourself as you dance your way out of bed. Anything Baby Mama wants, Baby Mama gets.

Rally’s sure did the trick. When you and Steve return, you find yourself skipping back to the bedroom while Harrington fights to urge to plop onto the floor right by the entry way, his body’s natural response to a food coma, and the state of lethargy he was in from being stirred awake.

But as much as he valued his beauty sleep, he knows deep down he’d still do it again for you. Your little food dance was also pretty damn cute, anyways.

———

THE NEXT WEEK

You and Steve have been ordering way too much takeout. So tonight you decide to surprise him with a home-cooked meal. So while he’s at work, you’re searching Pinterest for healthy, savory dishes to cook. Chinese food it is. One can never go wrong with some chicken fried rice.

Steve comes home right when you finish.

“Oh my god,” Steve gawks as he enters the kitchen. “What smells so damn good?”

“I made dinner,” you smile gleefully, and with pride. “I have so much energy second trimester it’s insane. Hope you like Chinese.”

Steve slows down. Glancing around the chaotic kitchen, he takes in the array of sauces, the cutting board, and the multiple plates and bowls that most likely harbored the. Then he looks at you — a sweaty mess with stains on her apron from all the rice tossing. And he can tell, by your slightly labored breathing, that you’re gathering up all the energy you possibly can to powerwash all the dishes.

“You…made this for me?”

“Yeah! For us, actually. And the baby. I hope you’re okay with onions and scallions.”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine with those,” he insists. “It’s just that…I have a date tonight.”

Suddenly the pots and pans feel so much heavier. The air, hotter. The onions, stronger judging by how tears start pooling at the base of your eyes. At least you want to blame it on those.

“Oh,” you sniff.

“I’m so sorry, Honey. I should’ve told you so you didn’t have to go out of your way.”

“It’s fine.”

Why do you feel this way? It’s not like you two are together anyway. This pregnancy is a partnership… platonic with a capital P. So why are you upset? And more importantly, why are you jealous?

“I-I’m sorry…” Steve panics. “I-it’s just that we’ve been getting takeout all week and I thought it’d be the same toni-”

“It’s okay, Steve.”

“That came out so bad, I…”

“I know what you mean,” you shake your head shutting him down immediately. “Have fun tonight, okay?”

“You’re crying…”

“I was chopping onions,” you point out.

You nod to the bag of onions that were yet to be put away. There was a lot left to be put away actually, and you were kind of hoping Steve would help. But clearly he’s a busy man.

“And it’s probably just the stupid pregnancy hormones too,” you add.

“They’re NOT stupid,” Steve insists. “And you just said you have so much energy. You were bursting with light just a moment ago…before I killed it.”

“Have fun tonight, Steve,” you repeat.

You head over to the wok and scoop out a serving for two: one serving for you, and one for the baby. Dad will get the leftovers, you suppose.

Steve watches you intently. You can feel his stare even with your back turned. Suddenly, you hear the faint dial tone of his cell phone ringing a couple of times before someone answers.

“Hey…Lacey, I can’t come tonight,” Steve sighs. “I’m really sorry for being so last minute. A family emergency came up.”

You look back over at him. He makes sure to look you in the eyes as he says ‘family’.

The two of them talk some more before Steve hangs up the phone. Awkwardly now, you chew softly at the rice you made.

“Well she definitely hates me,” Steve chuckles. “But I don’t care.”

“Steve…” you speak. “You didn’t have to.”

“You’re carrying my kid,” Steve looks at you with glimmering eyes. “I can’t be running through the town in the arms of another woman. This pregnancy is a team effort.”

He glides over you and stops right where your hips meet. You timidly manage to look up at him, tear-jerked, all sweaty, and very very pregnant. And after Steve tucks a loose strand of hair behind the blushing cartilage of your ear, he presses his tender lips against your forehead.

“For the baby,” he whispers to you.

“For the baby,” you repeat after him.

The day is here.

The gender reveal, that is. You didn’t expect finding out something as simple as having a boy or girl was going to be this nerve wracking. And to think some people do this in front of a huge audience.

“Okay…” you exhale unevenly. “You ready?”

“Only if you are,” Steve nods, but his trembling hands betray him.

“Hand me a glass.”

Steve hands you one of the two wine glasses you brought for the intimate picnic you had planned for today. On the count of three, you two were to dig those very glasses into the cake and scoop out the long awaited answer.

SWEET CHILD O MINE, the cake reads. Boy or girl?

Henry and Eddie settled for a Rock-N-Roll inspired cake, with self-indulgent black and red buttercream on the outside, and the pre-determined blue or pink on the inside. You were afraid that it was going to be a little too edgy for Steve, but he assures you the aesthetic of a cake is the least of his priorities.

Drawing out an uneven breath now, you decide to start counting down.

“One…” you gulp.

“Two…” Steve joins in.

But you can't bring yourself to say ‘three’. Shutting your eyes closed in a bout of nervousness, you mutter softly,

"Two and a half..."

It earns you a chuckle from Steve. Knowing just how to calm you down, like he had been doing all pregnancy, he offers you his available hand to squeeze if you needed.

“Three!” you two finally say together.

Plunging your wine glasses into the cake, you and Steve gather one big scoop each while your eyes drift elsewhere.

“I can’t look,” you choke, sniffing back a tear or two.

“I can’t either,” Steve exhales, evidently nervous. “You can look first though.”

“No, I’ll look when you do.”

You’re met with messy dough and frosting in the glass at first. But after trailing after the inside part of the cake, you catch sight of the fluffy frosting that was buried beneath. A bright, eye-catching, pastel....

...cerulean blue. A baby boy.

“Oh…my…god,” your hand trembles in complete shock. “It’s a boy…”

“Oh my god, baby!” Steve sniffs going in to hug you. “We’re having a boy…”

And then it happens. Unable to contain himself from his joy any longer, Steve cups your face with his frosting-laced fingers, connecting his lips passionately to yours, and you with him.

It’s the best day of Steve’s life. You are the reason that he gets to live out his dream of becoming a dad. And now that you two are having a son, all he can imagine is teaching the kid how to throw a football in the backyard, signing him up for T-Ball and Boy Scouts (just like his dad once did with him), and taking him and his buddies out on silly, fun-filled rag-tag group adventures.

And knowing how strange and daunting the world can be, Steve already maps out how to raise your child morally, encouraging him to always treat others with kindness, to be a friend to all, to always lend a helping hand whenever the situation calls on it. And to respect women…because after all, everybody came from one. And Steve knows that he struck gold, considering the fact that he views you as an absolute queen.

You kiss King Steve back, humming in awe because of how natural his energy feels against yours.

It all feels very natural. Makes you feel like you’ve known him your entire life.

Your eyes widen in shock as you two look at each other, both stunned that a kiss was both of your initial, seemingly ‘platonic’, response to the news.

"Is it just me or is it just now hitting?" Steve questions. "We're having a kid together."

"It's just now hitting me too," you agree, the double meaning tugging aggressively at your heartstrings. "We're really doing this, Stevie."

“Our son.”

“Our son.”

———

“What happens when one of us finds somebody?”

It’s a talk you and Steve were due for eventually. But Steve is just as unsure, looking over at your pregnant silhouette standing at the foot of the doorway.

But with how beautiful you looked standing at the doorway, your silk, maternity night gown hugging all the beautiful curves of your body while you rubbed your belly that housed your very active kicker, Steve wasn’t even sure if he’d ever want to find somebody else.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” he ends up saying.

He makes his way over to you, wrapping his gentle arms around your waistline, emitting his ever-growing love for you and the baby you two share.

“But if one thing's for sure, it's our son. Baby Harrington first. Before anything.”

“Baby before anything," you repeat the promise.

Steve’s lips graze your skin once again, an invitation and incentive to join him in bed — nuzzled up in the sheets and his warmth — so the two of you can soak in all the rest you possibly can before Baby Boy makes his entrance into the world.

Some bridges aren’t meant for crossing. Sometimes settling is the best option. And you don’t mind settling down. Because here, in Steve’s arms, it feels like home.

WEEK 38

An involuntary rush in your lower extremity stirs you awake. When you feel around to push the sheets aside and hobble to the bathroom, you’re stunned to discover your nightgown had become a raft, and that you’re laying atop your own unscented secretions. And you know it’s not piss. So if you didn’t pee…

Oh no, it’s happening.

You begin to panic.

“Steve!” you hiss, sitting up and pushing your partner awake. “HEY! Harrington!”

“Huh?” Steve mumbles, still half asleep.

“Get the hospital bag.”

“What?”

“Get the hospital bag, dingus. My water just broke.”

He shoots up. Still relatively disoriented, but now also horrified.

“W-what? Are you sure?! Does this… A-are you about to…”

“Yes! Grab the bag and start the car. He’s coming RIGHT NOW.”

While you slowly sit up to get your shoes and a robe on, Steve scurries to the car with your overnight L&D bag and purse in his arms. You reach over to grab your phone and charger, dialing up Eddie in the process.

It rings for a long time before he picks up.

“Honey, it’s 4 AM, what do you want?” Eddie grumbles.

“It’s time, Eds,” you sniff happily. “The baby is coming.”

The line is silent for a couple seconds, and for a while it’s like you can hear Eddie connecting the dots in his head. Alas, he speaks.

“HO-LY SHIT!”

*Click*. The line disconnects.

Steve holds your hand through it all. From checking into Labor and Delivery, to moving to your room, to breathing exercises with your bedside doula, check-ins with your midwife, and throughout the entire birthing process.

Not only is he nervous out of his mind, but he thinks you’re so beautiful.

"You know," Steve says in attempts to soothe you. "When I came out the womb, the nurse yelled "Oh my gosh! That's a lot of hair on a baby!"

You're too fixated on your breathing exercises to fully appreciate Steve's story. But you understand his sweet gesture, so you stroke his thumb with your thumb to let him know you're listening.

“I guess I had double the amount of hair than a usual newborn,” he continues. “And all the nurses were crowding around to get a good— OW OW OW! Watch the hand, watch the hand.”

The sudden level 9 contraction that shot through your entire stomach, causing you to scream in agony and beg for the epidural.

"JESUS, FUCK GET THIS BABY OUT OF ME!" you plead desperately.

Steve kisses you softly on the forehead before going in to stroke your, very sweaty, hair. He was not going to leave your side. Not now, not ever. This baby — and you — are the best things to ever happen to him.

Thanks to yours and Steve's mindful prep, the birthing process was a smooth one compared to others.

But still pretty painful, nonetheless. For you, for Steve, for everybody involved.

"Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit," Eddie sputters as he and Henry rush onto the unit with the baby's carseat and other miscellaneous belongings in their hands. "It's happening, it's happening. He's almost here!"

"I wonder," Henry pants, doing his best to keep up with his boyfriend. "If she experienced the Ring of Fire yet."

"What's the Ring of Fire?" Eddie questions him.

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" your tumultuous screams sound down the hall directly from your room. Anyone would've thought someone was getting murdered in there, had it not been a hospital unit strictly for childbirth.

"That," Henry answers him.

---

"You're almost there, baby," Steve encourages you. "Keep pushing."

The epidural had finally kicked in and now all you had to focus on was pushing.

“I see the head, Mama,” your midwife announces, rubbing your knee as you’re struggling to push. “Keep going, keep going! Couple more for me.”

“FUCK!” you cry out doing your best to contract those muscles.

“There we go…” Steve soothes you as he strokes your hair. “Doing AMAZING, baby. That’s it…”

He strokes your thumb with his, a helpless look in his eyes as he watches you struggle. It’s clear that Steve doesn’t know what else he could possibly do for you, but he attempts to mask that belief. He couldn’t wait to spoil you afterwards. It’s what you deserve.

“Few more pushes, Honey,” your nurse says again. “He’s almost out. We got his shoulders now.”

“Oh god I’m gonna faint,” Steve says, evidently growing dizzy.

“Can someone get a wet towel for Dad?!” another nurse calls out. “And maybe some juice?”

“PUSH, PUSH!”

“PUSH, Honey!”

“ALMOST THERE, MAMA!”

“I can’t,” you cry out. “I can’t anymore.”

“You can do it, baby,” Steve encourages you, pelting the back of your hand with endearing kisses. “You’re doing such a good job, I’m so proud of you…”

Before you know it, the air of the hospital room fills with tiny belted cries, followed by relieved and adorn coos as the nurse catches your baby.

“0507, time of birth!"

“Oh my god,” Steve wails in excitement. “Oh my god, he’s here he’s out. We have a baby! You did it, Honey!”

Too exhausted to say anything you simply fall back, taking a few deep breaths in relief. It’s over, the baby is here. And he is healthy.

You feel a sloppy kiss land on your cheek. Steve ruffles your hair when you look his way.

“You did it, Honey.”

Everything happens so fast after that.

From what you hear, Steve was the one who cut the umbilical cord — and he was very adamant about having the pictures to prove it. The baby was then weighed and bathed, all the hospital data was gathered with permission granted by Steve.

And soon, after an eternity, your son is swaddled and soon returned back to you and ‘Dad’.

"Oh wow!" a nurse remarks. "This baby has a whole lotta hair!"

You and Steve immediately look to each other and burst out laughing. Just like his Daddy...

———

“How does that feel, Steve?” you ask him, eyes fixated on the absolute DILF in front of you.

“Amazing,” he coos. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

When all needs were attended to, it was finally time for ‘skin to skin’. You didn’t think it’d be possible to be both sexy and wholesome at the same time — until you saw Steve cradling your newborn, pressing him tenderly against his exposed chest so that their hearts can beat as one.

“Hi little man,” he sniffs. “I’m your daddy.”

A single tear falls from his face and splashes onto the blanket that your son was cocooned in. Steve pulls him in closer and kisses him softly on the forehead.

“I’m your daddy,” he repeats.

It’s everything he’s ever wanted. Steve’s legacy is about to begin and it’s all thanks to you. And from your hospital bed as you recover, you are able to snap some pictures of the two loves of your life, the first photos of many, of the family photo albums.

“Ugh, when did Steve get so hairy?” Lucas wonders as he sneaks a gaze into the hospital room.

“Right?” Dustin agrees, joining him beside the doorway. “I told him he needs to tame that jungle but he claims the ladies dig it.”

“I mean, look at Honey,” Lucas points out. She seems to like it and Steve knocked her up.”

“True but it wasn’t organic, you idiot,” Max mutters.

Love pours in from every wing of the unit. Soon all your family and friends start to arrive, as well as Steve’s family and friends. You’re spoiled with ‘congratulations’ signs, and postpartum care packages, and an array of foods that you couldn’t eat while pregnant (i.e. sushi, deli sandwiches).

And with your approval, Steve comes out of the hospital room, ready — and proud — to showcase your baby to the entire world.

“Everyone, there’s someone we’d like for you to meet,” Steve says, keeping his voice at a low murmur. “This is Benjamin Dean Harrington. Benny for short.”

You and Steve end up taking parental leave at the same time.

Your entire day-to-day consists of loving on and spending quality time with Benny. The diaper changes, the cuddles, the nursery rhymes, and everything in between. It’s impossible to think you’ll ever get tired of it. You and Steve have officially transitioned to Mom & Dad Mode.

Until Benny goes to sleep.

As the golden sun peaks in through the cream colored blinds, you feel Steve’s hand trail down your back and down to your ass to grab it. Releasing a soft moan, you lean into his touch, shifting your weight to one side of the mattress.

“Baby…” he moans into you.

“Should we?” your eyes twinkle. “The baby’s asleep…”

He chuckles into your neck, raspy voice sure to be the end of you if he kept teasing you any longer.

“‘m scared I’ll hurt you.”

“I’ll let you know,” you barter. “I feel ready.”

———

“Fuck, right there, Steve…”

You grip the sheets tightly as Steve rolls his hips into you, his strokes a delicious mix of pleasure and a challenging stretch. And as you bite into your pillow, your eyes rolling up towards the sky, he maintains the pace you love so much, drilling you in, simultaneously massaging your clit while his quenched lips tenderly suction themselves to the crook of you neck.

It’s your first time together, but it feels like you two have done this before. Your bodies are naturally in sync, knowing where your boundaries lie without needing any cues, and knowing exactly how far you both can take it. Daddy Steve, being the gentleman he is, has your entire body mapped out.

“God I love it,” your overstimulated self whimpers, chest to your chin, ankles dangling off of Steve’s broad shoulders as he rails you.

“Oh, I bet you do, Honey.”

His large hand encloses around your neck, thumb hovering over your lips as he fawns over your mewling, vulnerable body.

“You want my cum, baby?” Steve asks. “Want me to fill you to the brim huh? You wanna have my babies?”

“Yes, I want your babies, Steve,” you moan. “Want all of them.”

And as an orgasm spills out of you, Steve’s spills in, coating you with his warm release as you both unravel in the sheets.

“Holy shit, that felt so good,” you whisper, nuzzling your head against his chest. Steve grins from ear to ear when you kiss him on the chin. “Thank you for making me feel so safe and loved.”

“Well when you’re you Honey, you make it so easy,” he blushes.

Steve rests his hands on your ass again, giving it a faint smack. You bite your lip as he pulls you even closer to him. And as the sun sets, you know round two is on the horizon.

“Anyways, when ARE we having another one?”

———

author’s note: i’m noticing some themes with the way i write eddie smut vs steve smut. i totally write eddie as a rough dom and steve is def a soft dom. not complaining tho, those are my headcannons for them 🤭

divider creds: @silkholland , @elfbar-baby

[juustokaku]

Confidentiality - Chapter 6. - yandere!ATEEZ OT8 x f!reader

Introduction: Joining a peer support group for mentally ill was a good idea for the last two times you were there. Then it's only natural for the third time to go well too, right?

Pairings: yandere!Hongjoong x reader, yandere!Seonghwa x reader, yandere!Yunho x reader, yandere!Yeosang x reader, yandere!San x reader, yandere!Mingi x reader, yandere!Wooyoung x reader, yandere!Jongho x reader

T/W: This story will include talk about mental health struggles such as body dysmorphia, paranoid thoughts and more. Possessive and obsessive behavior, stalking, manipulation. Dark themes are to be expected.

A/N: Hongjoong is mean in this chapter but at least he's finally here! Although I'm not quite happy with this chapter either, I hope this is still enjoyable. This chapter is focused on Jongho, Hongjoong and Yeosang. Next chapter will shift focus on someone else than Jongho, since he's played an important part of the story so far. Big thank you to everyone who showed me support last chapter and read the story <3

Word count: 4 781 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was just a bird. Just a poor animal stuck inside the bedroom, trying to find its way out. Anyone else would have been relieved as the mystery of the rustling noise was uncovered. 

But for you it meant only more mysteries. 

The bird wasn’t just any species. You would have probably been less scared if it had been a big eagle instead of the one species you wanted to see the least. A sparrow was flying around in the room, chirping in panic, as it had been locked inside. 

You had opened the window to let the bird out, but it hadn’t been open before. Why would have it been? It was winter, and you weren’t that stupid to let the cold air mess up your financial situation even more. The window had been locked up tightly, like always, curtains over so nobody could watch you sleep. 

So, it was a mystery how the sparrow had gotten inside. You didn’t have a fireplace that it could have flown in through. 

“You’re worrying too much,” Jongho said as you two were sitting on the couch, “It had most likely flown in through the air vents.” 

You felt incredibly lucky that Jongho had come to your rescue, even though you had kicked him out just an hour ago. It took only one phone call and thousand apologies for being so supposedly rude to him, until he finally agreed to return to your house and check what the rustling noise was. Oh, how low you could stoop in moments of fear; you should have felt ashamed for apologizing to him. 

“But how is it a sparrow out of all the bird species in the world?” 

Jongho sighed at your insistence to believe there was something evil behind the bird’s appearance. 

“In many cultures sparrows symbolize protection and good luck, think of it that way. Besides, sparrows are very common. It’s not a miracle that the bird has come to look for shelter from the cold here.” 

It was very likely that Jongho was right, but you did not want to shrug this off. 

“You’re being paranoid like usual,” Jongho spoke, trying to assure you that you were safe, but it only came out as invalidating your feelings. 

How could it be considered as paranoia after all the threats? After the dead sparrow, letter, and drawing, it wasn’t any joke like Charlotte had said or any coincidence that there was a sparrow in your room. 

But just after apologizing to Jongho, you didn’t want to upset him again. No matter how much you wanted to talk back, and get it through his thick head that this was something more, you had to bite your tongue. It almost bled from how many thoughts and feelings you were holding back. 

“After some thinking alone, I’d like to say something.” 

Jongho’s careful words snatched your immediate attention, making you forget about the bird for a second. 

“I’m listening.” 

“I want to apologize for being part of the reason of you falling on the ice and hurting yourself.” 

You couldn’t believe your ears. They must have been lying, trying to make you fall for Jongho and his tricks. But still, you were unable to deny the way your heart fluttered. 

This time, you were actually able to forgive him, although his reasons earlier for pretending to attack you had been poor, “It’s okay. Thank you for apologizing.” 

The reason why you thanked him for apologizing was unclear. You had all the rights to be mad, to shut him out, but you wanted his company and protection, so, you just had to be the doormat like you always had been and would be. 

“Are you still hurting?” 

“Yeah. I think my back is bruising, and my head still hurts.” 

“I’ll have a look,” Jongho murmured and reached for your shirt. 

Your heart nearly stopped as he attempted to lift your shirt up, and you flinched away. He was truly shameless, not even asking for your permission. 

“Uh, n-no need to do that. I’m sure it’s not that bad...” 

Jongho frowned; he was definitely not stupid and knew that you were lying. But then, his expression softened, making him look irresistible once again. 

“Will you let me? I just want to assess how bad it is,” he spoke tenderly. 

You cursed him for being so talented at manipulating you. It wasn’t unclear at all, that he used those beautiful eyes of his to make you give in, but still, it was futile for you to fight back. 

When you gave your permission, Jongho lifted your shirt up slowly so high, that your bra was almost revealed. Fortunately, he didn’t go any further, and he just asked you to hold the shirt up, so he could take a look at your bruises. 

Your back had large spots, going to turn from red to a shade of dark purple in the near future. It was swollen, and ached so bad, that you almost cried out in pain, as Jongho let his fingers brush against it gently. 

What happened next, made your body tense up, and a gasp fell past your lips. 

Jongho had pressed a kiss on one of the bruised spots. It didn’t hurt you physically, but it hurt you mentally; what were you supposed to think of this? This was all supposed to be just a play for the stalker to give up on pursuing you, but even in the privacy of your apartment, he acted like he cared about you. It was cruel honestly. 

“Jongho!.. What are you doing?” your question came out as more like a squeak. 

“What do you think? I’m helping you heal faster with my kisses,” Jongho said like it was obvious. 

“You don’t have to act romantic. The stalker isn’t going to see us here.” 

“Are you sure? He could have set up cameras here.” 

You felt anxiety bubble in your chest, as you thought about the possibility of being watched inside your own home. There were a lot of moments that weren’t meant for anyone’s eyes – actually, you didn’t want any of your moments being seen. You had always thought life would be easier if you were invisible, so no-one could watch you with gleaming judgement and mockery. Needing to be finally seen and heard, and wanting to be invisible, was an odd mix. 

“That was just a joke. I’d know if there were cameras here.” 

You were relieved, but you needed to know the reasons behind Jongho’s romantic gestures. 

“Why are you being affectionate?” 

“This is my way of showing you that I’m sorry.” 

“I already forgave you,” you frowned. 

“I want to apologize more.” 

“There’s no need to do that.” 

Jongho’s hand suddenly went up to your cheek, not to slap you, but hold it gently. You were astonished at everything at that moment; his touch and tenderness, but what touched your heart the most, was the vulnerability in his eyes. It was a once-in-a-lifetime moment, to see the deep sadness yet flickering hope, whose origins you couldn’t find. 

He was always so closed off, like there were barriers not just between him and other people, but between him and his own heart as well. But in that moment, the most important thing to you was that he tried his best to show you something. 

“Close your eyes.” 

“Why?” you asked. 

“I don’t want you to see me. I want you to feel me.” 

It was a leap in the dark, but your eyes slowly fluttered shut. You were scared, but still somehow excited. 

The moment you felt his warm breath on your face, you had suspicions of what was going to happen. It felt too surreal to think that Jongho was going to kiss you. That anyone could really want to feel your lips and closeness. 

You waited but the kiss never came. Your lips felt cold after preparing themselves to meet another pair of lips, but being left alone, disappointed. 

“Did you really think I want to kiss you?” Jongho whispered. 

After you heard his cruel words, you didn’t even dare to open your eyes. Feeling way too humiliated, your eyelids were tightly closed, so you wouldn’t have to meet his mocking gaze. 

“I-I just... I thought that you’d...” you murmured, but finally sighed in defeat, “Yes. I thought you wanted to kiss me.” 

Still, you could feel his face close to yours. A sound of him taking in a breath, ready to talk again, you had to prepare to hear more words that’d hurt your fragile self-esteem. 

“Then you were absolutely correct.” 

There was no time for your mind to register the things he said, but even if there had been, you would have never believed his words. 

It wasn’t a passionate kiss. Actually, it was quite clumsy, like Jongho had never kissed anyone before. But his lips were so soft, and although they moved slowly, it felt tender instead of lazy. 

It was the kind of closeness you hadn’t experienced since ever, so it felt odd to have him so close. Although you’d think about all the possible dangers that kiss could have caused – like getting bacteria causing deadly illnesses – at that moment, your head was empty for many reasons. Shock was one of them surely, but why didn’t you pull away? As if you could have anyways; Jongho was holding onto you tightly, a contrast to his gentle lips. 

You didn’t know if your heartbeat should have stopped or accelerated; both of those options felt more reasonable than what your heart was doing right now. It beat steadily, thumping in your chest like it always did. Safety, familiarity and stability were things you felt, almost like your lips knew Jongho’s, like you had kissed him before. 

It was a slow moment, but when Jongho pulled away, you felt like it had been over in just a blink of an eye. 

“Let’s start dating again, okay?” 

“Do you mean fake dating?” you asked, not knowing what to hope for. 

“What else would I mean? Of course, I meant that.” 

A surprising pang of sadness hit your chest. This was a dangerous game to play. Were you both playing or was he the one playing you? 

In a few days, you arrived to the therapy session, surprisingly late. All eyes were on you. 

It was natural for people to look at a person who was coming in, but their eyes were completely different compared to past weeks. 

San had a sad pout on his lips and he couldn’t tear his eyes off of you. It was the look of a man who was betrayed and hurt deeply. Mingi’s expression was like San’s but even more devastated. 

You let your gaze wander on everyone, but regretted it when you saw Wooyoung staring at you with anger. His lips were pressed in a tight line, as he tried his best not to snap. 

But Yunho was the one who looked the most like he was going crazy – well, all of them were crazy, but he seemed like he’d lose the last crumbs of his sanity right at that moment. He wouldn’t even regret the things he would do in his rage, that was about to burst onto the surface. 

Quickly, you averted your gaze and rushed to a seat between Yeosang and Jongho, the latter man having saved it for you. 

You felt like you almost sank, the chair swallowing you inside it to save you from the watchful eyes. They were everywhere, all around you. Even Charlotte was looking at you, but instead of anger or sadness, with confusion. 

“Let’s start this session by discussing the tense atmosphere here.” 

Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Jongho and San turned to look at Charlotte as she spoke, but the rest couldn’t tear their eyes off of your shivering skin. 

“Y/N and Jongho started dating,” Hongjoong said with a sickening smile. 

You stopped breathing and glanced at Jongho next to you. His face told everything you needed to know; he had had no idea that everyone knew. Now you knew the reason why everyone was eyeing you. 

“And why does that make you all uncomfortable?” 

No-one answered to Charlotte, the room silent and still heavy. 

“Y/N and Jongho can date who they want. You have no business interfering in their relationship.” 

Soon, the session had been properly started, when no-one complained about Charlotte’s words, but the eyes never left you for longer than a couple seconds when it was mandatory to look at someone or something else. 

You should have felt lucky to be paired with someone else than Yunho, Mingi, San or Wooyoung, but the way your partner, Hongjoong, stared at you made you feel nervous. 

“Uh, yeah... What’s your job like?” 

Your awkward question broke the silence between the two of you. In this section, you sat next to each other and were supposed to talk about your dream careers and how your current jobs affected you, but the man next to you didn’t seem too interested in that topic. 

“Tell me how you and Jongho started dating.” 

Stunned by Hongjoong’s sudden demand, you were speechless for a moment. 

“Well, he asked for my phone number, and we started talking...” 

It was like he could see you were lying, seeing your dishonest soul right through your clothes and skin with an x-ray view. An amused smirk played on his lips, as he continued interrogating. 

“Uh-huh. Why does he like you?” 

“Because of my personality.” 

“What about your personality? I don’t see much to like about it.” 

You almost gasped. It was not like you thought of yourself highly – in fact, sometimes you despised yourself – but no-one had been so direct to point out the lack of everything admirable in you. 

Hongjoong didn’t seem fazed by your reactions, “So, what do you do for job?” 

The change of topic was sudden, but you felt glad for it. 

“I’m a cashier.” 

He started laughing at your answer. First, it was just an amused giggle, until it grew so loud that everyone turned to look at you two. Before you could say anything, he continued. 

“That’s what I meant. You’re really that unambitious? What does Jongho see in you?” 

His words stung already, but it didn’t end yet. 

“You’re so addicted and desperate for attention from all these men, that you forgot to have any dreams.” 

You wanted to kill him with any object nearby, be it suffocating him with a pillow or stabbing him with Charlotte’s pen. But as always, you were so powerless, that you couldn’t defend yourself properly even with words. 

“I-I do have dreams. Even if they’re not as grand as yours, it doesn’t make them any less worthy,” you hated yourself for stuttering. 

“You really think that? Then what are your dreams?” 

It was like you shrunk at every word Hongjoong said, getting smaller and smaller until you would be just a tiny ant he could crush under his expensive shoes. 

“I dream of getting better and finding someone who loves me...” 

“Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? You still haven’t achieved neither of those things.” 

“How would you know that? You’re too focused on your job to notice other people. I bet you have a lot of friends,” Jongho chimed in, mocking Hongjoong’s workaholism and loneliness. 

But Hongjoong didn’t even notice Jongho saying anything. He was deaf to every noise other than your quiet sniffling and blind to every sight other than your tears. The way you bit your lips, trying to hold back from breaking down, mesmerized him. You were crying, and he loved it more than he thought was possible. 

“I guess you have one good quality.” 

You didn’t turn to look at Hongjoong. It was definite you’d lose it, if you saw his eyes mocking you till you took your last breath. 

“You’re pretty when you cry.” 

You knew that wasn’t meant to make you feel better about yourself. It was meant to humiliate you even more and to make you feel like you were dependent on his praise. And he succeeded. 

Despite the few shocked gasps, the room fell silent. Hongjoong was so cruel with that small smile, taking pleasure in your despair. 

No-one in that room cared about you, at least that’s what your mind was screaming, but what hurt you the most was that even Jongho stayed silent. How stupid you had been to even consider the chance, that his heart may have held caring, positive feelings for you. Not even the woman, who called herself a therapist, defended you. 

Seonghwa got up from his chair, his expression panicked at the sight of your tears, as he rushed to your side, “Y/N, let me take you-” 

“Don’t touch her.” 

Hongjoong’s command turned heads from your face to his. But his brown eyes, that looked pitch black to you, were still directed on the tears on your cheeks. All movement stopped in the room for a few seconds. Seonghwa’s hand, which he wanted to take yours with, was left in the air. Soon, he walked back to his seat sadly. 

The tension hung thick in the air, making it even harder to breathe through your stuffy nose. 

Against all expectations, the one person, who no-one thought of being brave enough, suddenly stood up from his seat and for you. He didn’t start arguing with Hongjoong; he defied him without any direct contact. 

Just the way he took hold of your chin in a gentle manner wiped the smile off of Hongjoong’s lips. 

As he raised your gaze from the floor, you were blessed by the sight of Yeosang right in front of you. 

No-one would have ever thought Yeosang would be the one to comfort you, especially when Hongjoong had just forbidden it. But Hongjoong’s words nor others’ reactions were of no interest to Yeosang despite the shyness that held him back from doing many things. 

“Why are you crying?” 

You were stunned by Yeosang’s question. Was it not obvious? Glancing around quickly, everyone else seemed confused as well. 

“I guess I’m crying because Hongjoong practically called me and my dreams pathetic...” 

A nod was what Yeosang gave you to let you know that he acknowledged your feelings. 

“Do you think your worth is based on how much money or glory you have achieved?” 

“What else would it be based on?” 

Your answer made a sad, tiny smile form on his lips. 

“It’s the harsh truth that people measure your worth on how well you suit their needs. So, in my eyes, your worth comes from how you’ve treated me and how you meet my criteria of a good human.” 

Everyone else in the room was silent, listening to Yeosang speak. Still, the conversation between you and him felt intimate and personal, despite all the attentive ears around you. 

“You might be worthless and pathetic in Hongjoong’s eyes, because you wouldn’t be able to work in his company or help him reach his shallow aspirations. But you have given me things I’ve never received or even thought that I needed. I can’t speak on behalf of other people and this probably means nothing to you, but to me, you’re far more worth than Hongjoong could ever be.” 

“Y-Yeosang...” you stuttered, feeling the desire to respond to him but losing all your words in front of the beauty of his looks and, most of all, soul. Even though you couldn’t understand what important you could have possibly given him, a small part of your heart healed as you heard him assure you of your worth. 

Suddenly, he had lost all his confidence, and went back to his old, timid self. It happened all so fast. 

“So, uh, don’t cry. P-Please?” he tried to smile but it was nervous, nearly a grimace. 

You closed your eyes as his warm hands cupped your face, and his fingers wiped your tears away, leaving your cheeks feeling warm and moist. It felt good to be cared for. Seonghwa had done it before and now Yeosang was the one comforting you; you weren’t used to that kind of affection. 

“So romantic. Now, leave my girlfriend alone,” Jongho said, sounding serious. 

“You dare to call her your girlfriend but you couldn’t even comfort her?” San suddenly murmured to himself; nonetheless, Jongho heard it. 

He gave San an icy look, “Not everyone is comfortable with physical affection.” 

“Are you uncomfortable with kindness in general? The least you could have done is assure her with words,” San frowned, getting irritated. 

Wooyoung rolled his eyes, finding it beyond belief that Jongho tried to defend his lack of care for you, “Is she even your girlfriend if you can’t take care of her when she needs you?” 

Seeing everyone starting to doubt the believability of your relationship with Jongho stressed you out. If you told them the reason you and Jongho were supposedly dating, all of that would have been futile, because the stalker would know what was really going on. 

“Everyone, let’s calm down. Jongho cares about Y/N although he doesn’t show it in the same way as others would,” Charlotte chimed in, trying her best to sound soothing. 

No-one cared to listen to her, just continuing to pressure Jongho, belittle him and his capability of treating you right. 

“Beware or I might steal her away from you.” 

“Of course, you treat her like shit since your heart is on ice.” 

“Jongho, you’re pathetic.” 

They just kept throwing insults at him, talking over each other, each one wanting to rip a piece of his supposedly big ego. 

Your head was starting to ache from all the noise, but it wasn’t any match to the ache in your heart. Despite Jongho’s cold behavior towards you, you had grown fond of him; the kiss hadn’t helped the situation at all. Desire to defend Jongho’s actions and preference to stay quiet without drawing any more attention to yourself were battling, and you were having a hard time deciding what to do. 

Only ones who hadn’t said anything were Hongjoong, Yeosang and Yunho. A smile on the shortest man’s lips served a reminder of how cruel he was, not just to you but to Jongho as well; he was clearly loving all this chaos. 

At least Hongjoong was honest with his emotions, but Yunho was smiling at you with no care in the world despite all the anger he had felt earlier. Seemed like he wasn’t even listening to the argument, just enjoying staring at you now that no-one was focused on you. Feeling uneasy under his eyes, you turned to look at Jongho again. 

He had been cornered like a mouse, but that mouse bit, “She chose me over all of you. No matter what you think about me, she likes me. Right, Y/N?” 

Stupid Jongho just had to drag you into the uncivilized conversation. Surely, he had to know it caused you distress to have all eyes on you now, waiting for you to say something. 

“Y-Yeah... He’s nice.” 

Wooyoung cackled triumphantly, “See? She’s so unenthusiastic, I wouldn’t be surprised, if you had scared her into being with you!” 

You felt a lump form in your throat, as Jongho gave you a disapproving glare, clearly disappointed in your response. 

“That’s enough! None of you have the right to judge Jongho and Y/N’s relationship.” 

Everyone finally shut up at Charlotte’s frustrated demand. Finally, she had done something to stop the escalating situation. Her philosophy as a therapist had been always to let adults solve their own arguments; clearly that wasn’t very effective. Her borderline shout didn’t ease your headache, but you were grateful nonetheless.  

Still, for the rest of the session, you could feel eyes on you, holding all kinds of different emotions. Anger, longing, devastation and mockery. It felt suffocating. 

You had considered ending the peer support group for many times, but it would cause many complications. If you stopped, so would stop the social assistance provided by the government. The conditions to receiving monetary assistance, which you could buy your medication and doctor visits with, were to go regularly to some form of a group therapy. 

It was impossible for you to leave. You would be stuck with all the madmen there. And the therapist, that used to care about your well-being, seemed to only belittle your fears. 

You couldn’t concentrate on the session at all, on the things the other group members talked about. Their words were useless to you. But Yeosang’s earlier words had stuck with you. 

To be honest, despite his sweet words, his actions were what got you hooked. From a timid, anxious person, he had morphed into a man who wanted to comfort, protect and reassure you. The feeling of his soft fingers on your cheeks lingered on your skin, making it tingle. 

The day had been awful enough, but after the session ended, you had to wait for Jongho out in the cold, as he stayed behind. You tried to warm up by rubbing your arms up and down, but it was futile, as the air was cold especially at that time of the day, when the sun had set hours ago. 

But apparently, Jongho had something important to discuss with Yunho. There was no other choice for you than to wait for your fake boyfriend, just because he wanted to protect you by walking you to the bus stop. To the bus stop that was under 50 meters away. It was more likely you’d freeze to death waiting for him rather than get killed on your way to the stop. 

“Y/N, what are you still doing here?” 

You shrieked as Yeosang had appeared like out of thin air behind you. Although you wanted to get angry and scold him for scaring you, his shy smile melted your heart, despite the low temperature. Your heart was still thumping loudly from being startled like that, but you couldn’t deny that Yeosang’s presence had a part in it as well. 

“I’m waiting for Jongho. How about you?” 

Yeosang looked nervous, “Uh, j-just waiting for my car to warm up.” 

“I wish I had a car as well. I’m freezing my ass off out here, not to speak of how uncomfortable it is to ride the bus with all the drunkards at this hour.” 

“I can drive you home.” 

His offer almost startled you again. What was Yeosang planning? Surely, he was up to no good. No man suggested driving an acquaintance home with good intentions; you had heard too many real-life tragedies to have any faith in humanity anymore. 

Yeosang would drive you to the beach and throw you into the icy sea, hold you underwater until your lungs would be burning and full of filthy, salty water. 

“I-I’m not planning anything bad...” he looked defeated, noticing how skeptical you were. 

It was painful to see his reaction, but you wouldn’t let yourself get most likely murdered just because someone looked like a kicked puppy. Still, you couldn’t shut him completely out. 

“I suggest we hang out someday. We could learn more about each other first,” you said, biting your lip in nervousness. 

Yeosang’s face would have lit up if Jongho hadn’t appeared suddenly, a reproving look on his face. 

It made you shiver, wondering what you did wrong again. It was like he couldn’t decide whether he hated your guts or wanted to protect you. 

He walked up to you and took his hand out of his pocket to hold yours, which was freezing despite wearing your new mittens, “Let’s go. You’re going to be late from the bus.” 

Poor Yeosang was left behind as Jongho led you quickly away from him, his steps slowing down only when you got further away. The snow crunched under your shoes, which was the only noise in the quietude you had with Jongho. It didn’t feel that awkward anymore; you had gotten used to his reserved nature. 

Still, you were curious and couldn’t help but break the silence. 

“So, what did you and Yunho talk about?” you inquired. 

“None of it concerns you. Stop meddling in my business.” 

He didn’t even spare you a glance, but the way his grip tightened spoke more than his rude words. It was always hard to tell when Jongho was lying and playing a part, and when he was being truthful, but this time you couldn’t be mistaken; him and Yunho had been talking something about you. Something that he felt the need to keep hidden in a maze, you would never find your way out of, if you did the grave mistake of trying to uncover his secrets.  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ <- Chapter 5. Chapter 7. -> Masterlist ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Taglist: @devilzliaison @lover-with-dolar-sign-is-a-loser @passerbyforfun

[moonbaetarot]

Pick a pile

What makes you a good person

1. 2. 3.

Pile 1

Your a peaceful person you like to keep your peace. Your someone who goes with the flow your ok with change and new things even if your scared of a situation you know it’s all going to be ok. You stay true to yourself you’re not flashy you don’t flex your money or newest finest things you have. You see things from every perspective you’re not quick to judge you know everyone comes from different paths in lives and may see things differently. You may have struggled with mental health, anxiety or depression in your childhood or teen years this really played a part in who you are today. You may be a teacher or want to be a teacher of some sort or had a teacher in your life who you looked up to I’m getting miss honey and Matilda vibes. You make what seems impossible possible. Someone here could be 22. You have a lot of stability you’re ready for anything. You see everything as an opportunity. You don’t let people get in the way of your path in life. You know how defend your self you usally don’t tho if someone says something about you you just like I feel sad for them like “you must be miserable to hate on me” but if you need to defend yourself you’ll snap and get your point across.

Thank you for reading loves! 🤍

Pile 2

Being a good person may feel hard sometimes. it’s like you do everything for everyone and get nothing back. You over work yourself for people who don’t deserve nothing from you. You’re worrying about pleasing others over your own happiness. You may feel like being a good person gets you nowhere. (I’m sorry love if someone in your life and doesn’t appreciate you you need to cut them off you deserve so much more then people who don’t appreciate all you do, you are so important and you will find someone that will appreciate you.) You take care you others I’m getting empathetic energy like if someone around you is sick your fast to get them whatever they need because you remember what it’s like to be sick so you wanna help them get better. You stay committed your very goal oriented if you put your mind to something you’re doing anything to get there. Someone here may be very close to their grandma or used to when they were little. You find a way to see the joy in fun in life even when things aren’t easy. You’re good at giving advice you know just what to say in any situation. Someone here may have very long hair or like to their elbow. You know how to keep a promise. You need to learn to cut people out your life love someone in your life isn’t good for you.

Thank you for reading loves! 🤍

Pile 3

You use past situations to help better yourself. You work well with other people and groups. People see you as approachable you have a very friendly energy about you that makes people wanna talk and be friends with you. I feel like you’re a very good friend always checking up on people making sure everyone’s ok and making sure no one feels left out when y’all hangout. I feel that sometimes your face may say other wise tho lol someone here may have a rbf or just look mad or tired sometimes. You are good in relationships you were made to me a lover I’m hearing “best I ever had”. When you have kids you’re going to be the best parent you are going to love those kids so much And unconditionally. I feel like having kids is going to change you for the better if there things you don’t like or flaws you have become a parent is going to change all of that. I feel like you’re a trustworthy person people trust you with many things. You look out for people you love and protect them from people with ill intentions Your able to see the bad in people and they will think there slick and getting away with it but you see right through them. You have a mothering healing energy people feel safe around you being around you just feels like a big hug. You have a very soft submissive girly energy.

Thank you for reading loves! 🤍

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

I just got out of my psychology class and I kept having thoughts about Leon and how his mind works. Here’s a psychoanalysis on Leon bc I truly do like how his brain works:

TW: mentions of mental illnesses, substances, substance abuse, suicide. (Guys- I am not a medical psychologist or a medical psychiatrist. This is strictly based on my psychology class, take this with a grain of salt.)

Leon suffers from Combat and Violence Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). This type of PTSD (because there’s subcategories) is most often common in veterans and in men.

More often than not, one can tell when someone’s suffering PTSD (flat voice, substance abuse, inability to sleep, change in personality, etc.)

Leon in RE2/RE2R didn’t necessarily show signs of PTSD until after the events took place. Leon was too busy trying to survive that his brain shut off the emotions he was feeling “in the heat of the moment.” He was scared but it was his survival instinct that allowed him (or the player) to move forward. Hence why I think he also suffered from Depression and Acute Stress Disorder (ASD).

ASD is commonly found in patients with PTSD, ASD is kind of like the first stage after a traumatic event took place. PTSD victims often find themselves having frequent panic attacks. I think it would be safe to assume that Leon in RE2/RE2R had several panic attacks during or after Raccoon City. I don’t think he’d go to therapy/psychiatrist/psychologist because in RE4R he stated that he immediately got called to the White House after he survived RC. And this is where I think it got worse.

RE4 and RE4R both portray very distinct Leon characters. One is more “fine” than the other in short words. Leon in RE4og doesn’t necessarily show signs of having mental issues but maybe he’s just good at masking them. Leon in RE4og often finds himself being very witty or very lean back. He’s less serious but I think it’s a coping mechanism. Up to that point in his life, he’s been in very serious situations that I think this is his way of gaining some of that control he lost when the virus first started. His brain is fighting battles of being in control or letting others control him. In this case- the situation is controlling him. He wants to have that sense of individuality and most of the time this is a coping mechanism. To gain back some of the things he’s lost in the process.

In RE4R, however (and I’m going to be very bold with this one), we don’t know much about how he feels. He is flat and his demeanor is distant to an extent. I’ve noticed a few changes to him from when he first started the game to where the player made it halfway. In the beginning of the game (when he’s with the two Spanish cops) he’s similar to RE4og- sarcastic and a little unserious. Which can be guessed as his normal personality. He doesn’t really show how much he’s actually been through with those two strangers. He’s got better things to worry about- he neglects his own issues. When he tries to find Ashley and he sees the zombies again- his PTSD gets triggered and it makes him be able to pull the trigger (aside from the player lol) There are few types of reactions when PTSD gets triggered and I think Leon’s reaction is a bit depressing.

When Leon sees these zombies again, his brain automatically jumps back to the memories of Raccoon City and almost immediately finds himself back in his former self’s shoes. But he doesn’t have time to linger, he forces those thoughts away and keeps going. I don’t think he wants to have time to think about what just happened because he’s often trying to keep his brain occupied “sorry, must’ve slipped” or any other phrase he says makes me believe that he’s just trying to make himself laugh (because believe it or not, laughter really does help with mental issues) or he’s trying to make the situation seem lighter. Or maybe he’s in denial, his brain hasn’t processed that the same thing that happened in RC is happening all over again. And when you’re in denial, you are repressed. Sigmund Freud said that repression is when someone turns something (trauma, thoughts, events, feelings) away. They deliberately choose to cast their thoughts and feelings aside. Leon bottles his emotions, it’s his defense mechanism. He doesn’t smoke (as mentioned in the game) nor does he drink (there’s a Reddit post that perfectly summed it up for me) He knows substances aren’t good for you and the fact that he’s against them makes me believe that he has other ways of dealing with PTSD such as exercise. I’m not saying this just because Leon looks very built, I want to think that maybe half the reason he works out isn’t just for his job. I think it also because it helps him mentally.

Mobility, sleep, and nutrition are the most important things to keep yourself mentally and physically healthy.

I’ll get on to RE6 because in that game, he pulled a 180 imo. RE6 Leon is more empathetic. He cares about the people that could’ve survived. He suffers from survivor’s guilt. After RE4/RE4R, Leon probably became more aware of his struggles and has tried to deal with them. He’s become more human, he’s allowed himself to feel human. He’s still the same serious guy with the flat effect but he’s becoming more open about his thoughts and feelings. I think the game is trying to hint at us that MAYBE he’s getting better. (Guys this is a stretch okay. RE6 is lowkey messy)

Now on to the films (I’ve done the liberty of researching a ‘order’ of when these may have taken place and not by the release date order so you guys won’t get confused):

ID Leon: He’s very compassionate in this one. He has a sense of self righteousness but I know why. He wants to make up for the losses of the people he’s seen die. He wants to fight against the corporation and wants to end the spread (submarine scene when he talks about RC) He wants to make up for what he couldn’t save. (Hence why he didn’t give Claire the chip- he wanted to protect her because he cares for her)

Degeneration Leon: Protection can only go a long way. Leon is more… assertive in his objectives, if you will. He’s back in his RE4 days in other words (any of the two games tbh, this Leon is complex) Leon wants to keep fighting for his cause. Not only is he forced to be a soldier for the government but he also has found a drive. All his pent up PTSD and trauma has shifted into something else. If no one could’ve been the hero then HE’LL be the hero himself, does that make sense?

Damnation Leon: Haha Russia go brr (sorry) Again, he’s become more chill. When he’s with JD, he’s funny but still cautious (bc let’s be honest, JD could’ve still shot his ass) nothing much to comment, I think he’s been consistent since Degeneration.

Vendetta Leon: NOW WE GETTING JUICY. This man- this Leon is the epitome of what a relapse does to you. Leon is seen drinking away his problems. He’s relapsed back into the mentality where his brain is finally processing everything. He’s even tried to attempt suicide- that’s how bad he got. His PTSD, his ASD, depression (bc you can’t tell me he didn’t have depression) it all came back to him and it made him feel shitty. He lost his power over himself, he no longer feels useful. He feels empty and broken. That’s sh he drowns himself in his own sorrows. Because he’s learned that if you drink until you pass out, you don’t dream. He doesn’t sleep- no. He’d rather black out because when you’re in an unconscious state, you don’t dream at all. You’re simply just lying there on the floor with your eyes closed. And that’s the feeling Leon wants to feel. He wants to forget everything for one minute and just calm down. And alcohol does that to you, that’s why people with PTSD become addicted to substances.

DI Leon: homeboy somehow got better (I’ve yet to watch DI lol) but from what I’ve seen, he’s definitely back to his “normal” self. He probably learned that maybe living life is the best thing. That if his attempt would’ve succeeded, then he wouldn’t have been able to live to his fullest. Regret makes people do a lot of things and I think Leon matured and learned.

[chaifootsteps]

Thinking about how Viv wrote herself into a corner with that stolas rape deal

And what she came up with to get out it was “well blitz is a slut who has lots of sex, so now you concerned viewers look stupid” “Stolas feels bad about what he did and wants it to become consensual, but blitz keeps trying to tempt him.” And later “all that verbal sexual abuse involving being an imp was in blitzos head, he’s just mentally ill, stolas is an angel, he sees that now.”

But this dynamic is night and day even between episodes 1 and 2 of season 2. This attraction to stolas is very novel and frankly contradictory. Chronologically speaking, the first ever time Blitzø had “attraction” to stolas and the only time in season one, was truth seekers. An episode when he had a mental break, imagined himself chained to a taunting stolas, was called a plaything by him and was verbally and physically abused by an angry stolas, then for all of that ‘happily’ gave him a ‘reward’.

Where going from various implications, particularly western energy, blitz would exert a lot of violent aggression and sexual control, which stolas found kinky because he is an imp. I can safely conclude it was some type of angry hate sex, an intense lashing out of hate filled anger stolas always ignored or missed, with a bizarre selfie after one iteration. A slightly terrifying way for blitz to cope psychologically. Apology tour blitz sees sex with stolas as a fight. He wants to continue the sex with him in control, because there is something he doesn’t want to think about. And I think it’s fizzarolli. I mean, many voices said “you’re gonna die alone Blitzø” but Blitzø only focussed on fizz. And after Ozzies, well, who was the catalyst of that? And now full moon/apology tour, we can feel Fizzs presence again.

That makes me worried about his mental health. ‘But that’s just how he sees the relationship!’ they say, as if his feelings on his own exploitation don’t matter. This new ‘arousal’ feels very trauma induced and I’m (not) shocked that Medrano thinks this absolves stolas of all blame. And Loona, Verosika, Moxxie and Fizz, are all enablers designed to normalise this. Who also do not absolve stolas of blame. I mean that scene of blitz touching stolas’ legs and him getting aroused but saying “no, no! It’s not right” before blitz code switches to begging for the book/money, feels right out of Frollos wet dream. He’s not abusive or predatory to Esmeralda, she keeps tempting him to take advantage of her! Or as stolas fans would argue: “Frollo isn’t predatory to Esmeralda, she led him on and awakened him, he only said and did those things because he thought she liked it!”

Beautifully put. She started (by her own admission) with the intent that Stolas would be a villain, tried to "fix" it, but because Viv is Viv, it's about as effective as fixing a broken toaster by smashing it with a hammer

[kissitbttr]

can’t stop thinking about simon falling for harley quinn reader typa beat

it’s a slow burn for sure, definitely not love at first right because he hates her guts the first time price introduced her during debrief session. she's fucking deranged. has murdered countless of innocent people before and not to mention shoplifting?? like why would price think it'd be a good idea to have her as a temporary addition to tf141? this woman is a criminal. he hates how cheery and giddy she is, always waving her hand to greet the team, acting like she hadn’t done some very questionable things, dropping offhanded comments that makes him choke in his own spit, parading herself in short black and red outfits that barely covers her ass and chest EVEN during the mission. it annoys him to the fucking bone.

but then as time slowly goes by, he begins to warm up to her existence. he’s starting to care about her well-being, putting a mental note on what she likes and dislikes, stealing glances at her way to see if she’s comfortable ever so often. he notices how she carries a red lipstick wherever she goes. black if she’s not feeling herself. his lips often twitches into a small smile whenever she does something cute to him and always always making sure she's okay during every single mission. ‘you okay, love?’ or ‘tell me if something’s bothering you, yeah?’ is what he always says. sometimes when the team has to split up, he’d be the first one to say ‘she’s with me’ and it makes her heart warms.

he's amazed at how well she handles rifles, all while looking and acting pretty. (he finds her adorable overtime too but he'd die before admitting that to her). when he lent her his signature AAC Honey Badger, he was impressed by how smoothly she used it, but nothing beats the way she kills enemies with her pink oversized mallet.

‘i can kill them in five, boys ! just give me a sec’ is what she says in a cheerful tone with a giggle after price had notified that there’s too much guards for them to handle. before price could even protest, she already loaded up her gun and walk towards where the guards are. it was something ghost had never found so attractive before but the way she said it? the confidence? her strutting like she owns the shit? considered him rock hard at that point.

before she goes, she tells the boys to wait while she does her thing. but not before sending a wink to ghost’s direction. she has a spot for him, she makes sure he knows that.

the team watch her gracefully killing the enemies through the cameras. small splash of blood painted her face as she smiles up at the camera to give the boys a small wave. she then jumps to one of the guard and put them in a headlock, suffocating him with her thighs to crack his neck in one swift motion (oh he’d do anything to let her do that to him)

‘fucking hell… look at this lass go’ soap tsked, others agreed. especially simon. this is the first time he had found a woman looking incredibly sexy and sophisticated while blowing someone's head off. it’s almost impossible a woman like her actually exists.

so the moment he hears her being held captured by the enemies, his blood runs cold. ghost. goes fucking. BALLISTIC. like 100% feral, no one could stop this man from tearing down the whole fucking sky to save her. so he makes up a plan to save her with the team. from there, add this scene while we're on it. safe to say she was truly moved by it.

‘oh… you were actually going to save me?’ she asks giving him her puppy dog eyes,

he grumbled while nodding sheepishly, his grip around the rifle tighten. ‘yeah.. and it was a pretty damn good plan too’

‘i’m sorry... well, i can go back in again if you still want to do it..’ her voice coming out soft and tender,

he smiles softly underneath the mask. even with dried up blood decorating her nose and the corner of her lips, he still finds her beautiful,

mentally ill but beautiful.

‘no—no that’s okay. ‘m just glad you’re safe, sweetheart’

he finds being with her is easy. just as easy as breathing. his once cold heart now softened because of her. and it is reserved only for her

-

i’m a firm believer that ghost is into batshit crazy women he can’t fix

[lovelyney]

───────𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓, 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘──────

DESC: When your intrusive thoughts win you over, you start withdrawing from everyone, thinking that no one will notice. However, that is far from the truth.

PAIRINGS: Tighnari x (GN!) Reader

SCENT: hurt/comfort

WARNINGS: self-harm, intrusive and suicidal thoughts, mental breakdowns, mentions of hallucinations, blood mentions

FLORIST’S NOTE: each and every flower has its own growing conditions; people are the same when it comes to healing from trauma or mental illness. do not rush yourself. you will bloom, i promise. give. yourself. time.

SONG: Fallen Down ― VGR, CG5

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯2023 !! #©LOVELYNEY

YOU FLINCHED BITTERLY as you finished off your last Withering Zone for the day—one of the disciples of dismay hitting your upper arm before it fully deteriorated. And since you were dealing with this one by yourself, you’d have to wait until you got back to Gandhara ville to treat it. Wincing in pain, you pressed your hand against the wound and hoped you’d be able to hide until you (semi) safely returned to your house in the ville. The farthest thing you wanted to do at the time was alert Collei and Tighnari, not with how fatigued you were.  

As you reached the village, you exhaled a sigh of relief—the sounds of laughter dampening your already bitter mood. Typically, you wouldn’t complain about such a positive thing, but as of late, your mental energy has drained unusually fast, and seeing people live so carelessly when you can’t is a very bittersweet thing.

“(NAME)! You’re back!” Collei hollered and ran over to you, a soft smile gracing her lips as you came in her line of sight. “How’d everything go? You didn’t get hurt, right?”  

You pressed your palm harder against your arm, hoping the blood that threatened to seep out wasn’t noticeable. “I’m fine, Collei. Everything went well! I’m just a little tired. . .” You assured, your voice breaking from your exhaustion. 

Her eyes softened. “I—I see! I’m glad to hear that. Go ahead and get some rest; I—I’ll tell master Tighnari you’ve returned.”

You smiled feebly, “thanks so much, Collei. I appreciate it.” Bidding the girl a quick goodbye, you strode into your small house, your body about ready to collapse. 

You walked into the bathroom and grabbed the necessary supplies to care for the laceration. Your medical knowledge was limited, but luckily, Tighnari gave you an entire lecture on how to cater to different kinds of wounds when you had gotten yourself injured in the forest alone. Gingerly pulling your sleeves up, you tried to tear your eyes away from all the scars that littered your skin. Whenever you looked at your self-injuries, they reminded you how terrible you felt about yourself. People always say scars are evidence that you’re strong, but all yours did was make you feel weak. You wanted to confidently say that you’re passed that part of your life, but truthfully, you started to feel yourself slip back into it. You haven’t mentioned it to anyone, fearing they’re going to label you as  “crazy” or simply just water down your feelings to “being dramatic.”

A familiar voice rang out and dragged you back to reality; “(NAME)? Are you in here? Collei told me you weren’t feeling well, so I came to personally see how you’re doing.”

You hurriedly finished up the bandages on your arm. “Coming!” you replied, leaving the bathroom and almost stumbling over your feet from how fast you moved. “H—hi, Tighnari! I’m alright, really. I’m just really tired,” you greeted, your shoulders tense from the ranger’s sudden visit.

Tighnari’s ears and nose twitched as he surveyed your expression. “I smell rubbing alcohol. You’re injured, aren’t you?” He asked curtly, his eyebrows furrowing.

You swallowed thickly, knowing it was far from possible to hide anything from Tighnari. You faltered, “[sighs]. Y—yes. . . But it’s nothing, really! One of the dismays just hit me before the zone fully dispersed.” Hearing your voice out loud made you want to shrink and hide.

Shaking his head dismissively, he stepped closer to you. “(NAME), I’m not worried about how well you performed I’m worried about you. Let me see the—”

“Nono! That—that won’t be necessary. I, um, already treated it. S—so, it’s fine now!” You blurted, your face burning with fear. You hadn’t shown anyone your self-harm scars, and you feared what he’d think of you if he did see them. You swallowed the lump in your throat and continued talking. “Y—you don’t have to worry about me. I’m fine, really. . .”

Tighnari’s ears lowered as he stared you down with a melancholy gaze. The biting fear in your (COLOR) eyes and voice had nearly caused his heart to jump out of his ribcage. He could clearly tell something was wrong, but he didn’t want to push his luck.

“[sighs]. Alright, I’ll trust your word. . . But if anything’s bothering you, physically or mentally, please don’t hesitate to come find me, alright? I really don’t mind taking care of you, (NAME).” Confided the ranger, softening his voice to ease a little of your apprehension.

Letting out a quiet breath of relief, you flopped down on your bed, your mattress bringing you some much-needed comfort. “Mhm. Thanks, Tighnari. . .” you muttered, your voice monotonous from your lack of energy.

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. It felt wrong to leave you alone when you clearly weren’t well, but maybe all you needed was some quality sleep. “Alright, I’ll leave you to rest. Sleep well, rosebud.” He spoke before leaving quietly, making sure to close the door behind him. 

Through your bitter emotions, you brightened up a little at the nickname he’d given you. “Rosebud, huh. . .” you thought and closed your eyes, mind weighing heavy with uneasiness for an unknown cause. 

“Will I ever have a chance to fully blossom?” 

You hugged your pillow tighter against your body as sunlight enveloped your room through your flowered curtains. It seemed your hypothesis from yesterday was correct; you were spiraling downwards back into your depression, judging by your lack of unwillingness to get up despite sleeping like a log the entire night.

Fluttering open your (COLOR) eyes, you peered up at your ceiling with a distant look. You doubted anyone came in to check on you; you didn’t consider yourself to be of significance to them. So it was natural they didn’t care, right?

Being alone with your intrusive thoughts with nothing else but the sound of the wind was excruciating—torture even. Whereas no matter what you did to try and move, the shackles that restrained you didn’t budge. Though you remembered how careless you’ve been with the withering zones and thought you maybe deserved to be alone—to feel the crushing weight of everything you thought you did wrong. 

Tears clouded in your eyes and fell down as the thoughts multiplied. And with each one, the light in your eyes that once rivaled the sun dulled to rival the twilight that washed over teyvat during the night.

KNOCK. KNOCK

“(NAME). . .? Are—are you feeling alright? You haven’t left your room at all today. . .” Collei’s warm voice asked on the other side of the door.

You jolted up and frantically rubbed your eyes, hoping to rid the evidence that showed you’d been crying. “Y—yeah, I’m in here! Sorry, I ended up oversleeping. . . Do you need me for something?” You answered and tossed your legs over the side of your bed.

She shook her head, “no no! Um, Tighnari specifically told me that you should spend today getting all the rest you need. So you oversleeping is not an issue at all!” Her eyes followed down to your injury. “H—how’s your arm feeling?”

You winced as you remembered yesterday’s events. You murmured, “ah, an—about that. . . I’m sorry for hiding it from you. I—I didn’t want you to worry.” 

Collei offered you an apologetic smile. “Please don’t apologize! I—I’m just glad you treated it. . .” she reassured. Her smile fell when she regarded your puffy eyes and wet cheeks. “(NAME). . . Are—are you sure you’re feeling okay? You look so drained. . . You know you can always come to master Tighnari or me if anything’s bothering you, r—right?” Worried the trainee. 

“She’s lying to make you feel better. Nobody actually cares about you.”

“All you do is make things worse. You’re nothing but a burden to everyone around you.”

Biting back another tsunami of tears, you cleared your throat and compelled a weak smile. “I appreciate that, Collei. But I promise I’m alright! I just, um, need to lay down for a bit more. . .” you said feebly. “Way to go; you made it sound like you’re trying to get rid of her. Now she’s sure to hate you.”

She nodded understandingly, her expression warm and gentle. She insisted, “t—that’s perfectly fine, (NAME)! I’ll leave so you can rest, b—but please come get someone if you feel the need to!” 

You watched her leave with a sigh, your gaze lingering on your bedside drawer. “I should at least change clothes. . .” You uttered and picked out some comfier-looking clothes to throw on. As you dressed, your eyes continued to fixate on one of your drawers. “Well, what’re you waiting for? Go on, do it.” You fell on your bed and tightly shut your eyes, mustering up all your strength to ignore your thoughts. 

Meanwhile, Collei strutted up to Tighnari and tapped his shoulder, the nervous feeling in her stomach increasing. “H—hey master Tighnari. . . Are you busy right now? T—there’s something I want to talk to you about.” She hesitated, her eyes fleeting back to your house every now and then.

The fennec’s ears wiggled as he turned around, immediately noticing her anxious countenance. “No, I’m not. What’s wrong? Is it about (NAME)?” He inquired. He wasn’t certain why you were the first thing that came to mind; maybe because he was already so worried about you. Seing her nod, Tighnari’s stomach flipped upside down. “They’re. . . they’re not doing well, are they?”  

Collei’s eyes glossed over with tears as she shook her head. “I’m worried about them, Master. . . Like really worried. They kept pressing they were okay, but the look in their eyes felt so. . . numb and impassive,” she explained.

Tighnari stressfully sighed as he tried to think of the best way to confront the situation without hurting you. He didn’t want to press you to say anything you weren’t comfortable with, but he also didn’t want you going through this alone. “Alright. Collei, could you take my place in this week’s outings? Normally I would have you watch over them, but I’d rather take care of them myself in this particular case. . .” Requested the boy, his ears drooping as his heart hammered against his chest. Her statement about you having a numb look in your eyes gravely worried him.

“Of course! Do you want me to go tell the others?” 

He nodded, “that’d be great. . . Thanks a lot, Collei.”

Your back pushed against the wall as your head dropped further into your hands. You don’t know why you thought sleeping would magically fix everything. It didn’t help that you felt incredibly abandoned, despite being surrounded by people. People who, deep down inside, you knew cared and would help you without a doubt if you were to just ask. But each time you even considered asking for help, a mocking voice would belittle you for even thinking someone loved you. After hearing it so many times, you think you’d be able to successfully ignore it, but no. Instead, it dragged you farther down inside the grave you put yourself in. And the worse part was that there was no one around to help pull you back up, making the desire to give up increasingly stronger.

“Then why don’t you do it? It’s not like anyone here would care anyways.” A distorted, yet incredibly familiar, voice whispered in your ear.

Lifting your head up to look up, your entire body stiffened as you saw what looked like a hazy deformity of Tighnari. Even though you knew it wasn’t actually him, your mentality was shattered, and so was your sense of reality, so it got into your head with a snap of a finger; what worsened it was that it sounded exactly like him. You closed your eyes and covered your ears, striving to slow your rapid heart rate and clear your mind. “Go away. . .” you thought, fingernails digging into your skin. 

“Why don’t you give up and make everyone’s job easier? You know you aren’t wanted here. Your only chance at being useful is to just rid yourself, so you’re not in everybody’s way.”

Shakily forcing yourself up, you staggered into the kitchen—feeling like the only way to quiet your thoughts was to harm yourself. You promised yourself you wouldn’t put yourself through this again, but you’d instead do that than cave into your thoughts. 

Somehow, you clung to the last drop of hope that lingered inside your head—the hope that desperately called, “hang on just a little longer, and I promise everything’s going to be okay; YOU’RE going to be okay.”

Tighnari ambled to your front door, ears pressed tightly against his head as he knocked. “(NAME)? Can I come in? If you’re feeling well enough to talk, there’s something I’d like to ask. . .” He called gently. His ears flicked up and picked up the sound of your crying. Throat tightening, he knocked again, this time more urgently, hating every second wasted by not being with you. “(NAME), if you don’t open this door, I will find another way in! Let me help you, please!” Shouted the ranger, trying desperately to turn the doorknob. “Fuck this. No way in hell am I leaving them alone in there.” he thought before lock-picking your window and sliding inside.

“(NAME)!” he yelled as he raced inside the kitchen, finding you with a kitchen knife in your hands—blood dripping down your arms and covering the tip of the blade. It felt like a life or death situation as he stepped closer, never once taking his eyes off you. You looked so fragile as if you could completely break at one wrong action or word. “(NAME). . . Please, put—put the knife down.” Tighnari pleaded and bit his lip, trying his best to keep it together for your sake. “I’m here now. You don’t have to bear through this alone any longer. . .”

Your head suddenly fell silent at the sound of his concerned and hopeless tone—a prominent distinction from the one your hallucination had given him. Your strength left your body, and you dropped the knife, tears flooding your (COLOR) eyes and falling down endlessly.

The second the knife hit the floor, Tighnari rushed to your side and dragged you into an embrace, letting you cry into his shoulder. His hand firmly held the back of your head as he rocked you back and forth, terrified you’d drop dead at any moment. He murmured, “it’s okay, rosebud. . . I’m here now. Nothing can hurt you. . .” His turquoise eyes fell to the floor, giving the knife a sharp kick, sending it skating across the floor. Feeling you latch onto his hoodie, he pulled you tighter against him, careful not to hit your bloodied arms. 

Every bottled-up emotion you had exploded just like that—each and every self-destructive thought twisted into a heavy sob. And with each one, your knees caved further and further in til’ you couldn’t stand upright. 

Tighnari was quick to catch you before your body hit the floor, his arms soon finding their way around you again. He stayed quiet, however, pressing small pecks to your forehead to show you that he was there—that he cared. He hadn’t heard such gut-wrenching sobs in all his life, and to hear it from you, his favorite person, made him want to cry. 

After a few minutes, your cries quieted to sniffles, and eventually, you had utterly enfeebled yourself. Tighnari showed a faint smile, “alright, rosebud. I’m going to carry you to my house so I can properly care for your wounds. Close your eyes and rest for a while, okay? I can see how tired you are. . . I’ll be right with you when you first wake, I promise.”

You gave a weak nod and leaned your head against his chest, finally deciding to give your mind and body a proper rest. 

You stirred awake, head throbbing and memories blurred, to the sensation of someone gently patting your face with a cold washcloth. “Hmmn. . .” you muttered groggily, your eyes refusing to open.

“You’re awake. . . How’re you feeling?” Tighnari asked from beside you and set the cloth down, his gaze now fully fixed on you. “Do you need/want anything?”

Your breath hitched as you recalled what happened. Looking down, you noticed your arms, both sore, were neatly swathed in bandages. “I—I feel so numb. I’m—I’m so sorry, Tighnari. . .”

He shook his head and handed you a cup of a calming tea he had put together. “Rosebud, please. You have no reason to apologize. I should be the one saying sorry. I felt something was off with you and brushed it off.” He lamented, carefully caressing your cheek and brushing away the tears in your eyes. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, okay? Just know that you’re safe here—both from the outside and yourself. Nothing’s happening to you under my watch.”

You took a trembling breath as you sipped the tea. The intensity of his love made you feel small as he stared at you. “I’m sorry I never told you of my past with this. . . I promised myself I wouldn’t do it again, but everything got so loud—my thoughts, the world, everything. It hurt so much, Tighnari. . . So much that it manifested a hallucination of you. I—I was so scared and so alone. I tried so hard to cry for help, but it was like I lost my ability to talk. . .” You described.

Tighnari’s large ears twitched slightly as he carefully listened to every word you expressed, ensuring he understood everything before offering input. As he pondered what to say, his eyes dropped to your bandaged arms. The idea you’ve already gone through this process alone made him sick.

He mused, “(NAME) it’s your story to tell, not mine. In no way am I mad at you for not telling me of this sooner. . . I’m proud of you for speaking about it even now, given it’s something you’d rather not reminisce about. . .”

“I can tell by looking at you that you’ve been through so much. I know you might think otherwise, but you’re so strong. Despite going through hell and back, you remain incredibly empathetic and caring. Do you know how impressive that is?   

“I can guarantee you that whatever bullshit your mind fed these last three days is only food for your depression; that’s it. I can’t stress enough how much everyone here adores you—including me. rosebud, you’re so incredibly beautiful, from the inside and out. The way you flourish and flower is something I wish I could see every day. The thought of you wilting, let alone by your own hands, terrifies me. Archons, (NAME), you might not see it, but you’re perfect in every way.”

Tighnari finished and kissed the pads of your fingers, watching as your eyes glazed over with tears.

Each word echoed in your head until your mentality began to heal. You hadn’t realized how badly you needed to feel someone’s arms around you until he pulled you in his and kissed away the tears that fell from your (COLOR) eyes. 

You rested your head against his chest, racking through your brain to try and think of something to say. “What—what did you mean when you said you adored me. . .?” You mumbled. “Really (NAME)? That’s what you come up with?” 

Tighnari laughed warmly as his fingers smoothed your (COLOR) hair. “Is that what’s gotten you so quiet? Well, rosebud, I mean exactly what I say. I adore you. Collei always tells me how obvious my feelings for you are, but I didn’t want to rush anything between us, especially with how you’re feeling now. But I have an inkling that the reason why your depression chose me to manifest is because you feel the same. . .” He cooed.

You fell silent as thoughts swarmed your mind, none of which proved helpful in your situation. “Come on, (NAME)! Say something!” you thought and bit your lip. “Y—you might be right. . .” you replied quietly, slipping your fingers into his.

Tighnari smiled and pressed his lips to the back of your hand. “That so? Good, because I took the rest of the week off to look after you, and you’re going to stay at my house for that time.”

“That’s fine with me, but where am I going to sleep? I—I don’t want to kick you off your bed. . .” You wondered.

He chuckled, tail wrapping around your waist comfortably. “You’re sleeping with me, silly. That way, I can keep an eye on you and make sure you’re sleeping alright. Judging by the circles under your eyes, you’ve been struggling. . .” He hummed and started to rub circles on your side. “I already moved most of your things here while you slept; do you have anything that helps you sleep better at night? I’m going to have you drink a calming tea beforehand, but do you have a certain routine you need to do?”

You smiled a genuine smile, his calming and caring demeanor soothing your doubts. “No. . . I think having you by my side will be enough. . . Thank you, Tighnari. I—I appreciate it so much.”

“Oh, (NAME). . . You don’t have to thank me in the slightest. I’d do this 10 times over if you asked. I’d do just about anything for you. . .”

[twohappyboys]

i don’t think i’ve fully gone into depth on how hard Oldies station hits

as someone who didn’t plan to live past 13, hearing and seeing Oldies station live has been a roller coaster for me.

heres some examples of how to song pertains to me

tw: slight mention on SH and general struggle of mental health. Please be safe

Starting of on the first damn verse

“Only consistency in your periphery is fear and the bridge of your nose”

“and as you move about, you learn to tune them out but they say they continue to grow”

the way i’ve interpreted these first two lines is knowing the issues and fears you hold but learning to ignore the irrationality and live through life.

During middle school i was majorly depressed and filled with anxiety, but through out the years i have learned and found ways to control(not sure if that’s the word i want) my anxiety. I now know what makes me anxious and i know how to avoid those situations, and (vaguely)what to do during episodes. Finding Twenty One Pilots and hearing/seeing others were going through and feeling what i was feeling was so refreshing, and definitely helped me get here.

“Make and oath, and make mistakes start a streak you’re bound to break

when darkness rolls on you, push on through”

this feels very reminiscent of getting sober(in any way shape and form) making the decision to get clean, relapsing and starting again even when you know you’ll only relapse again but you should keep going.

I was a SHer, (nearly a year and a half clean) that’s something i cannot hide. it’s a big part of who i am now. and even though i’ve relapsed more times than i could count, i kept going. the longer i was able to keep myself clean the better i felt. there where many times that i’ve wanted to SH but i’ve pushed through.

“Then before you know, you lose some people close

Forcing you to manage you pace”

I think this could mean many things and can be applied to many situations but for me, it means there will be people who leave. there will be people who do not want to be there through your hardships, but you will find the people who do.

i’ve had many friends, many who have left during the hardest times in my life but the ones who truly love me unconditionally have stayed. i’m still friends with those friends today. and for them i am grateful, i wouldn’t be here without them.

“You don’t quite mind how long red lights are taking

your favorite song was on the oldies station”

in a metaphorical sense: you are taking the time to enjoy life, the things that used to occupy your mind are no longer a forefront. there’s something new to occupy you.

in a more literal sense: you’ve grown up, the things you used to love and hold dear are old. no longer relevant to the newer generation, but that doesn’t mean it’s any less valuable.

I’m young, don’t get me wrong. but i do still experience the things i once loved becoming “old”. most of those things are barely a decade old, but in the sense of pop culture they’re old. seeing the toys i used to love in a vintage shop or hearing the songs i used to listen to all the time on throwback stations only remind me that i am getting older.

“you have it down, that old fight for survival

you’re in the crowd at her first dance recital”

and yet again, you’ve grown up. you now know kinda how to handle life, maybe not perfectly but you know how to survive.

like stated before, i never planned to live past 13. i’m 19(soon to be 20) and i’ve experienced and seen so many things i never thought id be able to. I’ve graduated high school, soon ill be moving into my own apartment, i’ve seen my favorite band live, i’ve gone on road trips with my friends, i have a pet, i’m living life. everything may not be perfect and i do still struggle with things, but i know im not alone. i have support, in my friends, the music i love, and my family.

in conclusion, Oldies station has become the song that shows growth and strength. You are never alone, there is always someone or something that can help you keep going. and Twenty One Pilots may just be that thing.

[thecorvidforest]

I have had a situation recently, and I would like your advice on it. I run a gaming discord server, with private servers for a few games. A streamer joined who claimed to have DID. They seemed to flaunt it all over their streams, seemingly very attention seeking. This, to me, seems likely to be fake, but I am unsure. Can you give any input? I don't want to have someone who makes up mental illnesses, discrediting those who actually have them, around, but I also don't want to falsely accuse someone.

sure, i’m happy to give my input, but it might not be what you’re looking for. you seem to have good intentions and this isn’t meant to bully or shame you at all, i just want to gently push back on this a little bit.

i personally believe there is never a good enough reason to accuse someone of faking a mental illness, especially something like DID/OSDD. there is no reliable way to spot a faker, and accusing people of lying does far more to hurt the community than faking does. let me explain.

some systems like to talk about their experiences, some don’t. same goes for anyone with any condition. talking about one’s plurality frequently is not automatically them flaunting it, and it’s certainly not grounds to assume they’re faking. plurality informs one’s entire life, we should be allowed to talk about it without having to worry if we’re being perceived as attention seeking.

here’s the thing. it’s wonderful that you want to help protect people who have DID/OSDD from people who might be faking it and i don’t doubt for a second that your intentions are genuine, but accusing someone of faking based on how you perceive them will do far more to discredit them than someone who’s actually faking it.

because here’s what’s going to happen if you remove them from your space because you think they’re faking: everyone around you who may be a closeted system - or even just anyone with a highly stigmatized disorder - is going to know that your acceptance of them isn’t based on their self-report, it’s based on your own perception of their symptoms. they will no longer feel free to be themselves, because showing their symptoms comes with the risk of being kicked out. you’ll have effectively made your space less safe for people with stigmatized conditions. and for the accused person, you’ll have removed them from a space that’s meant to be safe and completely invalidated their lived experience based on them choosing to speak about said experience.

on the flipside, let’s say they are faking and you do nothing. most likely scenario, they’re attention seeking and using DID to get the attention they want. what ends up happening most of the time is the person faking it eventually gets tired of the harassment and of having to keep all their lies straight and they stop.

of course lying about an already stigmatized condition for attention is an awful thing to do, and i’m not defending people who do it. what i am saying is that it is far less harmful to accidentally include a liar than it is to exclude someone who may or may not be lying with no way to know for sure if they are.

TLDR: whether they’re faking or not, them talking about it isn’t a reason to assume they are. and regardless, it’s always better to assume they’re telling the truth.

i hope this helps! we had a few switches in the middle of writing this so i’m sorry if the phrasing doesn’t flow well lmao

[greeneyedsigma]

KidLu for the Heart and Soul

Luffy: You didn’t cry when bambi’s mother died?!

Kid, sarcastically: Yes, it was very sad when the guy stopped drawing the deer.

**

Kid: Guess who just found out the difference between wax paper and parchment paper the hard way?

Luffy: Wait, what’s the difference?

Kid: One you can use in the oven safely, and the other you can also use in the oven... if the thing you are trying to make happens to be fire.

**

Kid: You are an absolute fucking dork.

Luffy, singing: Yeah, but I'm your dork!

Kid: *sighs* Yeah, you're my dork.

**

Kid: I'm not funny, I'm just really mean and people think I'm joking.

**

Luffy: No, I don't want to talk about physics! I don't know anything about the laws of physics because they are hard and boring. I simply would like them to behave in a way that is most convenient to ME and MY LIFE! Is that really asking too much?

Kid: Yes, as a matter of fact, it is!

Luffy: Well, guess what? Science is stupid bullshit!!

Kid: You take that back!!!

Luffy: No. Magic is awesome. Science blows. The end.

**

Kid: Be careful, I thrive on negative attention.

**

Luffy: That sounds super! Doesn’t that sound super, Kid?

Kid: No.

Luffy: I think I speak for Kid when I say it sounds really super.

**

Luffy: You look mentally ill.

Kid: I am. Let’s go.

**

Kid: You played me!

Luffy: Like the cheap kazoo you are!

**

Kid: *chokes on something*

Luffy: Jeez, Kid, don't die on us.

Kid: Don't tell me what to do, I'll die whenever the hell I want!

**

Kid: I’m genuinely surprised you haven’t gotten arrested, let alone gotten a felony yet.

Luffy: Nat 20 Charisma.

Kid: That is NOT how that works-

[coffincestuous]

i’ve seen some people say that ashley is kind of an extreme portrayal of mental illness(es), but, from my own experience…. she’s actually a very real portrayal. all of her possessiveness, her mood swings, her dependency on andrew, her choice to not think too long about super traumatizing shit, her impulsiveness; all of those are very normal, very accurate ways mental illnesses and other disorders manifest

(andrew also shows Many signs of mental illness(es) and disorders, and so does their mom, but that’s not what this post is about!!)

i’m not going to try to diagnose her or anything, and i’ll try to keep my headcanons to myself, but i believe we can all tell that the way she thinks and acts is not exactly healthy for her or the people around her. she’s harmful to herself, andrew, and a lot of others. there’s genuinely So Much that has influenced the way she is, i kind of don’t even know where to start

she wasn’t “born evil,” like her mom says. she isn’t even “evil,” she just… doesn’t really understand. that’s not a bad thing!! she doesn’t understand what’s wrong with her behavior, because no adult ever taught her. no adult ever cared enough to make sure she learned how to treat people nicely. no adult ever paid attention to her harmful behavior and tried to correct it. we see that ashley has been kind of an asshole from a very early age, and she’s always been pretty blunt with her thoughts and feelings. she hasn’t ever felt the need to sugar-coat things, to spare other’s feelings. aside from andrew, nobody has ever been genuinely nice to her, or spared her feelings, so why should she bother?

similarly, she doesn’t lie too often, unlike andrew. she doesn’t like pretending, especially not with him. she says in game, during dinner with their parents, that she can’t “keep up” with andrew’s lies. we only really see her lie of her own accord once, and she doesn’t donit very convincingly.

she doesn’t really care about anything that doesn’t concern her or andrew, which is like. The Most logical path for her feelings to take. andrew is the only person that she’s ever known who cares about her. he’s been by her side for her entire life. her parents, her neighbors, and her friends have done wrong by her, and have been driven away by her… Her. except for andrew. (we’re ignoring the chapter two decay route for this). he’s been there through everything. he’s cared when no one else has. he’s seen her at her worst and her best moments. again, no adult taught her about caring, or pretending to care. she doesn’t feel the need to mask like andrew does, and she doesn’t have a want to “fit in” to a society that has failed her and her brother. she’s been treated as an outsider for her whole life, so she probably believes she’ll never “fit in,” she’ll never be accepted, and she doesn’t need to fit in or be accepted by them.

she greatly values loyalty in her friends. we see her act this way with andrew, with nina, and with julia. she sees people chosing others over her as a betrayal. other than andrew, no one has ever chosen ashley first. that upsets her!! that would upset anyone, but it especially upsets her because no one has ever chosen her first. her parents gave andrew all of their attention, but not her. her two friends have betrayed their friendship and put andrew above her. in game, she says it herself: she should be the top priority. with every encounter, every back-and-forth, every relationship, every decision, she’s waiting to be pushed aside. she’s waiting to be discarded. with andrew, she’ll do anything in her power to make sure he doesn’t leave her, either.

i think that it’s really interesting that she really is her worst self with andrew. she’s mean, she’s violent, she’s petty and crass and acts very childish, but she generally feels safe with him. she feels comfortable with him, and doesn’t feel the need to hold herself back at all. there’s security to be found in a relationship (of any kind) that you can say terrible things and act in horrible ways and that person stays by your side. that’s a huge part what she has with andrew. she trusts him to stay by her side, despite how awfully she may act. she places a Lot of importance on his presence in her life.

even the murder and cannibalism can be attributed to mental illness (along with The Plot). the intense mood swings that she has go along with her already violent tendencies. she feels anger, frustration, annoyance, and a whole bunch of other really negative emotions that she’s never learned to cope with. a lot of people in real life use violence as an outlet for anger. plus, she doesn’t allow herself feel upset or disgusted by death, even at her own hands (if she even feels it at all). despite that, i believe that murdering her parents had to be So cathartic for her and andrew. ashley explains in the decay route why eating people makes her feel powerful and in control, and being in control is something she very obviously feels that she lacks. she’s seen as manipulative, but she doesn’t really succeed at her manipulation. she’s understandably insecure with her entire existence, so she tries to control whoever and whatever she can, and that extends to andrew, murder, as well as cooking and eating people

there’s a lot to life that is treated as “normal” and “universal,” but everyone starts with absolutely no knowledge. experiences build a person’s worldview and shapes their personality, and ashley has had very rough experiences. she is a product of abuse and neglect and mistreatment, and is a very realistic depiction of a person who has had the experiences she’s had. the game has a pretty light tone despite the content, but it being “pretty light” doesn’t take away from the amount of detail that is put into the main characters and the trauma that they’ve suffered

ashley doesn’t have to be “good” or “positive” representation to be accurate representation, and i feel like nemlei has done a fucking excellent job at making a very, very unwell person (or two or three) in a very, very unwell society, and i am so extremely excited to see more of the graves’ childhood in chapter three

[mazzystar24]

Am I the only one who low-key loved that they showed:

1. Lucy’s anxiety induced blabber and Tim’s 😳 in the background - because I feel like while ppl were being like “oh that rant was so annoying and over the top” but in reality that rant is literally so accurate as a stream of thought of anxiety and overthinking , not only that I think the fact that this rant was included is so telling of their relationship because as someone with anxiety I can confirm that those types of thoughts STAY inside thoughts unless we are super comfortable with the person because WE ARE AWARE HOW UNHINGED AND IRRATIONAL WE SOUND

2. The chenford fight- when you have two mentally ill people in a relationship spoiler alert they will sometimes say shit they don’t mean and will sometimes screw up AND THATS OKAY AND REALISTIC like any mentally ill person will tell you that when they are spiralling, almost always they will unintentionally take it out on the person closest to them or who is supporting them the most and that’s not because they actually want to it’s more so that their brain subconsciously knows that that’s a safe target that they can be a bit of a screw up with them and they won’t stop loving them, this is literally the most common example of displacement (trust me I’m a psych student🤓,jk jk fr tho this is an actual thing)

Like when I heard initially that chenford would have issues this season I was so worried the writers would pull that old cliche of making stupid out of character drama that made no sense and felt inorganic but THIS this is so good to see how anxiety can affect a relationship and eventually how they get over that obstacle and it came out in a way that felt very realistic and in character

[prying-pandora666]

“The Search” Rewrites, Book 4: Air, Leaks, and A Call for Help from the Fandom

I’ve talked a little about the Book 4: Air restoration project @book4air. If you haven’t seen it yet, check it out! Three full episodes are already out and episode 4 is going to cover Zuko’s early days right after his banishment, exploring his relationship with Iroh and the world as Zuko understands it as a lost boy rapidly coming into manhood.

Wait until you hear the VA’s performance with music and everything! It’ll break your heart.

But I want to talk a little bit about what comes after these next few episodes: our adaptation of “The Search”.

If you’ve seen our adaptation of “The Promise”, you’ll know it was quite faithful. This won’t be the case for “The Search”. For the purposes of the overarching story we are telling, this story is getting overhauled. (Please still support the original release if you’d like to see the canon version).

The biggest change that’s been announced is the addition of Toph. The team felt that a story about family, identity, and faces could benefit from including Toph’s perspective as she comes from a unique but toxic family situation, has a strong conflict between the performance expected of her versus who she really is, and is completely blind and so faces don’t even register for her.

Here is the sample scene we released:

But I want to talk a little bit about what we are changing about Zuko and Azula’s roles in the story. While the set up is virtually unchanged, there is one small alteration that makes a big difference.

(Sorry for the poor quality, this is technically unreleased content and I’m being kinda risky leaking it.)

Ursa’s letters are now a diary. This means that rather than get random flashbacks, the narrative framing now becomes Zuko and Azula reading these entries together. As a result, they get to discuss their discoveries about their family, and even share each other’s perspectives.

What that means is that when things like Zuko dangling Azula over the cliff happen, now we actually are forced to address it. The characters have to talk about how they treat each other and the reasons why. They have to confront the toxic family dynamic they’ve been forced and groomed into since childhood. Zuko has to realize his mentally ill little sister isn’t the monster here and in fact he’s the one with all the power now, and Azula has to realize that Zuko can be trusted if she can let go of her fear long enough to talk to him about her vulnerabilities.

We also address issues like this:

Many people criticize this for being OOC, but I think there’s a way this could easily not be. Sokka has been known to be juvenile and reactionary as a first response, the difference is that he always eventually apologizes and learns from his mistakes. Without even needing to be asked.

Threatening a mentally ill person who has just been removed from an asylum—even as a joke—is not okay. It would be questionable even if they’d been friends before this, but considering their prior relationship it really does seem like an boneheaded lack of awareness or compassion for how triggering this could be.

So rather than remove this interaction, we addressed it. And I am really taking a risk posting this here, but here is a brand new script page:

Sokka isn’t just comic relief. Sokka is smart, Sokka is compassionate, Sokka is brave, and Sokka knows when it’s time to apologize and reach out versus when it’s time to fight.

Safe to say, there are several things that stay the same and we tried to keep faithful to the spirit of the story, but there’s a lot we wanted to do for the Gaang and for the Fire Sibs, and I hope you’ll join us on this adventure, whether you’re a diehard fan of the comics and just looking for a fun AU, or you hate the comics and would like a rewrite, or even if you’ve never read them and would just love to return to the world of ATLA.

The only trouble is, we can’t do it alone. The project is very expensive and time consuming to produce. Our team pays for everything out of pocket and some of us don’t even have reliable housing, so it’s been a hard time.

If you can help in any way, even only by spreading the word so YouTube will stop burying us in the algorithm, that would be huge!

If you can afford to help, we have a Patreon where you can get all sorts of early goodies.

Reblogs and comments greatly appreciated! As the head writer and voice of Azula, this project is very near and dear to me. Avatar was my first pro-writing gig when I was just a homeless 19 year old, and it��s here for me again as I struggle to rebuild my life and health that COVID destroyed.

I love this series and the community that has helped me through the hardest times in my life. I can’t wait to make something beautiful with you all!