#also i think my nightmares might actually be ptsd from the general everything in my life

[livwritesstuff]

heyo! loving the steddie dads. was wondering if either of them suffer from nightmares or ptsd after everything they've been through? and how they might deal with that on a day-to-day/anniversary basis.

Hi friend -- took some time on this one because this is a Topic for me.

Short answer – yes, 100%. I don’t think any person on the planet could experience that kind of thing and not come out of it with some serious issues to work through. 

Longer answer, and not to abuse my psych degree, but it’s really tough to say how they would be affected 10, 20, 30, etc. years down the line because PTSD and trauma are both so unbelievably complex – for many reasons, but in part because PTSD can do two things (sort of) simultaneously.

Wane over time

Completely and permanently alter the “wires” (neural pathways) in your brain

I think that there’s sometimes this perception in the ST fandom that every character in the show who experienced a trauma would have PTSD by default, but that might not necessarily be true. Stats actually show that the majority of people who experience trauma in some capacity will in fact not display PTSD symptoms. I think Mike and Dustin at the onset of season 2 are a fantastic example of how two people can go through the same events together and come out of it affected very differently.

(Sidebar: I think Stranger Things has a fantastic opportunity to show how varied the effects of trauma can be. Granted, I don’t think that’s the story they’re telling, but they totally could.)

Experiencing a traumatic event is not necessarily a one-way ticket to PTSD symptoms and/or a PTSD diagnosis – to be clear, this doesn’t mean that there are not lasting negative effects from that traumatic event, but it is still distinctly different from PTSD (in its official definition) – and right now it’s not clear why this is the case. 

I have individual thoughts about each character as it relates to what they specifically experience and how I think they would be affected by it long and short-term, HOWEVER I also recognize that I haven’t answered your actual question, so I digress.

Rather than dive into whether or not I think Steve and/or Eddie have PTSD, we’re just gonna call it capital-T Trauma and move along. You’re welcome.

Anyways, by the time Steve and Eddie (as they exist in this ‘verse) are in their fifties, I doubt that any residual effects of their Trauma would still be anywhere near debilitating. Generally speaking, they can go about their day-to-day lives without thinking about what they went through all that much.

I do think that those effects may temporarily worsen around anniversaries, but even that really isn’t all that noticeable by the time they hit the 2020s.

They’ll still occasionally have nightmares and I don’t think Steve ever fully lets himself believe that it’s truly done in a way that Eddie doesn’t relate to because he never had to experience what it’s like for it all to come back.

(Small potatoes, but I also don’t think Steve could ever own a dog no matter how much his daughters campaigned for a puppy when they were in elementary school).

I think the Trauma that Steve experienced shows itself in his adulthood when it comes down to raising kids. 

I’ve talked before about how Steve has a moment when Moe turns ten where it kind of clicks for the first time just how young Erica had been when he allowed her to get caught up in everything. He hadn’t been able to see it until he was a fully-fledged adult raising a ten-year-old, but he gets really hung up on it, and then he spends the next few years being like – Moe’s eleven, that’s how old Eleven was when she broke out of the lab; she’s twelve, that’s how old Will was when he got stuck in the Upside Down; she’s thirteen, that’s how old Dustin was when he almost got eaten by demobats in those tunnels. 

Then the girls start hitting their high school years and Steve starts realizing – oh, it wasn’t just the younger ones. I was also a kid still and put in a really fucked up position. It’s the thing that makes him truly see how few adults he had in his corner.

Eddie has a similar moment when Moe graduates high school and he realizes that his oldest daughter is as old as Chrissy ever got to be.

That being said I also don’t think Eddie gets as torn up over Chrissy as the popular opinion suggests but i’m a little afraid to voice that one lol

I definitely think Eddie and Steve never let themselves forget how Max, Chrissy, Patrick, etc. were vulnerable to Vecna’s curse because of a very specific circumstance – they were grappling with something internally that they didn’t feel they had the resources or people they trusted enough to address outwardly. Sure, they know that their kids aren’t at risk of being possessed and murdered by an evil monster, but the notion of bad things happening when people don’t have the support that they need is a very real phenomenon with very real consequences. By no means was that exclusive to Hawkins and it certainly didn’t go away with the Upside Down. 

I think that this becomes the crux of Steve and Eddie’s mentality behind parenthood – to make sure that their kids never feel like they can’t go to their dads for support, to never allow their children to be in a position where they have to suffer in silence. That, to me, is absolutely rooted in the parts of their Trauma that re-wired their brains irreparably.

Anyhooooo this is really just the tip of the iceberg imo but this is long enough already lol (but if anyone wants to hear more about the Stranger Things-Trauma paradigm, let me know because I could probably talk about it for hours).

[moonlightshaiku]

Hello! May I request a pair up? ^^

My names Dahlia (I go by Luka too but mostly Dahlia) and I'm non binary but kinda go with whatever pronouns people call me and wear whatever I feel like. I'm omniromantic and demi sexual!

I enjoy art (writing, dancing, painting, ect..), books, collecting things, bugs (I have a collection of bugs I preserved in bottles myself :), gardening, dyeing my hair black, diying clothes, luxury, science fiction and horror, cats or birds, classical music/metal/and some other alt genres of music, goth and alt everything ngl, gothic fashion or mall goth, organizing, stars, making edits, spending or earning money, bones, zombies, scheming, military stuff, debating, learning bcs knowledge is power, and hiking

My flaws and quirks are that I tend to be jealous, have a bit of a savior/supioriority complex but internally don't think I'm that great yk, a bit impulsive, really blunt, don't sleep don't eat just gotta get what I need done, petty, anxiety, depression, PTSD, ADHD, maladaptive dreaming disorder, nightmares 🌚, half done projects everywhere, competitive, loves to spoil my lover a little to much, can't sit still, needs to be uniqe, daddy issues, only ever listen to those I care for other than that im not a very good listener and a addiction to caffeine and success

My personality is entj with some enfp sprinkled in and 3w4, but basically, selfless to those I care about even a bit, polite, messed up but pretty self sustaining, eccentric, confident, can take charge, creative, assertive, sarcastic, blunt but can and will lie, extrovert, methodical, attentive, thrill seeking, witty, mindful of others unless I don't like the person, passionate, ambitious, stubborn, expressive, charismatic, sophisticated (most the time), adaptable, bit of a day dreamer but also realistic, and can and will do as I please to get what I please (unless your someone Im even just chill with I don't like hurting people to much unless they deserve it or I'm doing it on accident)

And that's it! I hope you have a lovely evening dear freind! I may have ranted a bit sorry :') but thank you so much I hope I wasn't to much trouble!

-🍷

Sevika!

(General Information: Sevika is a character from Arcane. She's a gruff fighter with a metal arm prosthesis. She's also very responsible, intelligent, and will try to end confrontations peacefully if possible.)

Sevika would absolutely love and spoil you! She's really relieved to be with someone who she believes can actually handle themself. She does worry, nonetheless.

She doesn't have a lot of time on her hands, but she'll spend every moment possible with you. Loves spoiling you, just as you spoil her. When her (relatively large) paycheck comes in, she would absolutely love taking you shopping.

She loves your ambition! Whatever you plan to do in your adult life, she will support. She'll get you whatever you need and put as much of her spare time forward as possible.

She probably picks up little trinkets and bugs when she has the time? And (especially if you're forgetful) will leave it on counters/tables. Just little offerings she hopes you won't mention.

Sevika has a lot of trauma, and is surprisingly good at calming people down. She'll usually boss them around, get them functioning and then talk. But she can also be soft. Kneel down and pat, murmur, whatever needed. Whenever Sevika is dealing something, she tends to get irritable and might even cry a bit, quietly and alone. A good, warm meal will calm her enough to talk it over.

Sevika isn't really jealous, and she's fine with your being jealous as long as it doesn't prevent her from doing something. If it does, she'll sit you down and attempt to understand and better the situation.

I can see a lot of good communication in the relationship, and a lot of mutual spoiling (and breakdowns)!

Alternate Pairing(s):

Kylo Ren — Star Wars

[reader6898]

The Wolfpack Queen

Pairing: OC Talia x Commander Wolffe

Series Summary: Talia joins the Wolfpack as their new medic. Wolffe doesn't understand why everyone likes her. What happens when opposites attract? Sparks will fly between two people who didn't know they needed one another

Series Rating: 18+ (no minors allowed), violence, assault and attempted assault (not descriptive), slavery and mentions of slavery, mentions of prostitution (not descriptive), ptsd, slow burn, angst, eventual smut

Additional tags: future chapters will have chapter warnings because both Wolffe and Talia go through it 😭

Chapter summary: Wolffe and Talia finally meet. Plo Koon suspects Talia might be a Jedi. Wollfe can't seem to get Talia out of his head. Boost and Sinker being a pain in Wolffe's behind as usual

Chapter warning: bit of PTSD from sad memories but that's it. I also apologize for the long chapter

Chapter 5

After you finished up with the two children you sent them on their way with their mother and a few pieces of candy for each of them.

As you cleaned up you thought about the clone that you had seen earlier. You were wondering what he looked like under his helmet that he had never taken off. You knew that he looked like all the other clones but did he have a different hair cut? Did he have any tattoos or piercings? These were the type of questions that you wanted answered. You could just ask who he was but you didn’t want to intrude on this guy's personal space.

As you thought about all of it you were so in the zone that you didn't notice Jax had come up to you until he tapped you on the shoulder. You jumped a little and Jax took a step back. "Whoah, it's just me."

After you came down from the heart attack that Jax didn't mean to give you you looked up at him. "Sorry." " Are you alright, mesh'la?" That name again. You had been called that quite a few times not just by Jax but by other clones as well. You had wondered what it meant but right now you didn't want to ask. Not that you minded being called that anyway. You actually kinda like it when they use that term of endearment. It makes you feel special when they call you by that name.

You nodded your head. "Yeah. Just…thinking." Jax gave you a smile. "Must be thinking pretty hard then." You returned his smile. "Yeah." "Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that you can go ahead and take a break." "Thanks. I'll just finish up and then I'll go take my break." Jax nodded. "You did really well today." "You think so? I was really nervous." "I do. And there was no need for you to be nervous. I had full confidence in you." You blushed a little at his words. You couldn't remember the last time you had been praised like that. "Thanks. I..feel better knowing that." Jax laughed a little. "Glad I could make your day, mesh'la."

After your little conversation with him Jax walked away and you finished up at your station. Once you were done you packed up your med pack and put it under the little table you had set up for your station then once you had everything put away you went on your break, knowing that you would be here on the planet for a little longer.

As you were taking a walk around the village you bought some food from a couple of vendors and ate while  you looked around at everything. Even with all the destruction that happened the place was still very beautiful. It actually reminded you of the village that you came from and you couldn’t help but feel sad. You were never going to go back there but it’s not like you could anyway. While it had been years since you were in your village you were pretty sure that everything was gone by now. Besides, who would want to go back to a place where nightmares and terror were built on? You shook yourself out of your memories and threw the rest of your little kebob onto the ground for a couple of dogs to eat once you realized that you were no longer hungry.

You continued your little walk and as you came around the corner you ran into general Plo Koon and the man you saw looking at you earlier. You stood at attention and saluted your general. “Sir.” “Ah, Talia. At ease, little one.” You put your arm down and stood in front of the two men. “It is nice to finally see you out of the medbay. Are you enjoying it?” You looked up at the kel dor. “Y-yes, sir. It’s a nice change of pace.” You could feel the other man staring down at you but you didn’t make eye contact with him.

Your barriers had gone up the moment you ran into the two of them so right now you were being very cautious as you didn’t have a clue of who he was. You were also trying to hide the sadness in your face but with a jedi around you were certain that he could feel it and if he did he didn’t mention it. “That is good to hear, young one. Will you be joining us more often?” You nodded your head. “I believe so. I think Jax wants me to get more field experience.” While you couldn’t see it you could tell that the kel dor was smiling behind his mask. “We will be happy to have you join us anytime, Talia.” You gave the general a small smile as he turned to the man standing next to him. “Have you met my commander yet?” “No, sir. I..I’ve been busy.” This time you did look over at the man who you were now guessing was his commander. “Well, I guess now is a good time to introduce you two. This is commander Wolffe and Wolffe, this is our other medic, Talia.” You held your hands together in front of you as you looked up at him with an innocent look. “Hello.”

Since Wolffe was still wearing his helmet you couldn’t see the way his jaw was clenched as he saw how beautiful you looked up more in person. After what felt like an eternity Wolffe manages to unclench his jaw to break the silence between the two of you. “Ma’am.” You gave him a little smile before looking back at Plo Koon. “I best be on my way, sir. It was nice seeing you again.” “Likewise. And if you need to talk to me about anything, you can always come find me, my dear.” “Thank you, sir.” You saluted both of them and hurried on your way back to the medbay.

Both of them watched you walk away and Plo Koon couldn’t help but feel that there was something special about you. It was just like when he first met you. It was the same feeling that a jedi gets when they feel a new youngling’s power. But you couldn’t be. You’re a little old for that. Or could you be? The kel dor stroked his face and Wolffe looked over at him. “Something wrong, general?” The general shook his head. “Nothing is wrong, Wolffe. I will be back. I have to make contact with someone.” Wolffe saluted Plo Koon and watched as his general walked away.

As soon as he made it to the bridge on the ship Plo Koon contacted the rest of the council and told them what he had felt with you. “Are you sure she is one of us, Plo?”, Obi-Wan asked. The kel dor stood with his arms behind his back. “Yes, I believe this young woman has the powers of a jedi, Obi-Wan. I have not seen her use them but I feel that she is strong with the force. I felt it the first time I met her and today I felt it again when my commander and I ran into her.”

Mace Windu looked at him. “If what you say is true and this woman does have the force then it is already too late for her. She is too old to be trained as a jedi. If we had found her when she was younger then it would’ve been possible for her to be trained.” Yoda looked at Plo Koon. “Keep an eye on her , you must. Bring her to us next time you are planet-side, you will. We will see if she is truly one of us.”

Plo Koon bowed his head. “As you wish.” Plo Koon hung up the call and stood there at the holotable for a moment. If you truly had powers of a jedi then yes it would be too late for you but Plo Koon had a plan. If you were a jedi then he could at least teach you how to protect yourself with your powers.But first he would have to watch and see if you had any powers at all.

Wolffe couldn’t get you out of his head. For the rest of the day you were the only thing on his mind and no matter what he did you were all Wolffe could think about. He was so fixated on thinking about you that he didn’t notice that Sinker and Boost had joined him at the table he was sitting at for dinner until a roll was thrown at his head. Wolffe snapped out of it and snarled at his brothers for throwing food at him.

“The kriff was that for?” Boost snickered as Sinker looked at their commander. “You were daydreaming, vod. You had us worried for a second when you didn’t hear us calling you.” Wolffe rolled his eyes. “I’m fine you di’kuts.” “If you say so.” The three of them eat in silence until Boost speaks. “So what were you thinking about?” “None of your kriffin business,” Wolffe mutters through a fork full of food. Boost leans over to Sinker and whispers something in his ear and the two of them silently agree with each other . Wolffe glares at them. “What are you whispering about?” Boost sits up straight and they go back to their food, acting like nothing happened. “Nothing.”

Wolffe lets out a long sigh. “Please, enlighten me with whatever the two of you were just agreeing on. I am not in the mood to play games and if you don’t tell me right now the two of you will be on latrine duty for the next week.” Wolffe’s brothers paled at that thought and cleared their throats before talking. “Well, we were just thinking..that..maybe..you were possibly..” “Thinking about Talia”, Boost shouts as he finishes Sinker’s sentence. Wolffe sat there silently and didn’t say anything. Both their eyes go wide. “You were, weren’t you?” Boost elbows Sinker in the arm with a shit-eating grin on his face. “I told you our vod was thinking about her.”

Both of them laugh as Wolffe stares at them from across the table. “I was not thinking about that natborn.” Sinker catches his breath before speaking while Boost continues to chuckle. “It’s not the end of the world, Wolffe. We’ve all thought about her so don’t worry about being the only one.” Wolffe is now glaring at the two of them but his brothers don’t care as they continue being a pain in his ass. Wolffe ignores them as he finishes his food then stands up. “You two di’kuts are getting latrine duty.” “Oh, come on!” “No fair!” Wolffe walks away from them as they try to get him to come back but he continues ignoring them as he heads back to his tent.

Later that night as Wolffe lies on his cot in the darkness he thinks about what Boost and Sinker said. They were right: he had been thinking about you. He didn’t know what it was about you. You were still on his mind even now. Whatever it was about you, you had completely entranced him and he had just met you earlier that day. It was like you had put all of them, including Wolffe, into a trance and now they couldn’t escape. But was that such a bad thing? Wolffe wasn’t sure. But what he did know was that he had completely misjudged you just from a few simple comments that shinies had said about you in passing.

 You didn’t seem like a bad person and now he regrets not introducing himself to you in the first place. He was just as curious about you as everyone else was and it made him feel sick to his stomach.  Wolffe groaned as he covered his face with his pillow and lied there for a while with his thoughts.

If he didn’t talk to you soon he was going to go mad. Maker, he felt like a shiny straight off Kamino. Wolffe sighed as he placed his pillow back behind his bed and lies back down. Wolffe didn’t know how he was going to make it with you around. But he did know one thing: he didn’t want to lose you. So he came up with a plan to talk to you tomorrow if the two of you weren’t busy.

As soon as Wolffe was satisfied with his plan he rolled over onto his side to try to get some sleep. He continued lying there for a little while longer before the stress of the day finally caught up to him. Wolffe closes his eyes and is soon falling into a deep sleep, dreaming of you and the coming day.

Tagging: @cloneloverrrrr @anxiouspineapple99 @clonethirstingisreal @wings-and-beskar @wizardofrozz @523rdrebel @cw80831 @moonlightwarriorqueen @rexxdjarin @multi-fan-dom-madness @dystopicjumpsuit @deejadabbles @eternal-transcience @starrylothcat

[that-angry-noldo]

*cackles* oh I'm so glad you liked the Finrod reveal ramble, I was a little hesitant bc some people get a bit HOW DARE when other people do more than ask questions.

I wasn't meaning to imply Fingon was demanding or telling Mae what to do, more that he was being another voice for Mae to consider? And a new ear/shoulder for him to speak to about this? Like, you know when you KNOW you should do something, and it's really hard and it WILL hurt, so you're trying to do everything BUT that until you talk to a friend or family member and it clarifies and untangles the situation in your head so you can finally FINALLY make the choice you need to?

I see Fingon as one of the people Mae has for this. (He is Mae's favorite rubber duck) And Maglor obviously, but a sibling is too close for that sometimes. Fingon was outside the situation.

OH WOW YEAH Maedhros is gonna have some ISSUES when he realizes he's been treating his cousin like a pet. Having undergone his own horrific dehumanization and torture, it's gonna make him feel horrible to have unwittingly done the same to his cousin.

This is obviously NOT actually his fault, there was no way he could know that this was FINROD, but ptsd does not respond to logic.

I'm picturing him sitting beside a thoroughly unconscious Finrod all blank faced and torturing himself by going over every SINGLE interaction he had with wolf!Finrod desperately wondering how he MISSED THIS.

Maglor is no help, he's doing the same thing. Fingon is juggling both of their responsibilities probably for a few days, while also being beside himself about this.

Finrod is in a healer concoction induced sleep, floating in a lovely pain free cloud right now, and is unavailable for comment.

Meanwhile Fingon is ALSO trying to think about what to tell Finrod's SISTER probably. How d'you draft THAT letter? 'Hey Artanis, so you know how everyone said Finrod died...' O__O;;; (Really, he probably won't write it into a letter, not if they're gonna keep this on the down low, it could be intercepted, but it's a fun image)

please i now can only picture this

Fingon, rolling into Himring: yodeley my dudes how it's going? how's it rolling??

Maedhros, in the middle of existential crisis: fingon HELP me to DEAL with the MORALS

also have you looked into my brain because THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT I WAS THINKING. maedhros sitting near finrod's bed not being able to think about anything else

anyways i'm gonna say it. maglor's guilt strikes ten times harder because he literally proposed to slit werefinrod's throat when they first captured him so. KEKW I GUESS

i could've given finrod a healer induced sleep because imo he deserves it, but i'm gonna give him sauron induced nightmares/visions instead because i'm evil :D

ALSO YEAH DECIDING ON WHO AND WHAT TO TELL IS A MAJOR THING MAE AND FINNO HAVE TO DO

they decide not to tell anyone yet, at least not before finrod comes to his senses. but if they were to draft a letter it would look like this:

Hey. Yeah it's about your brother. Yeah a dead one. So about him, you might want to recall a funeral. Yeah. No yeah he was risen from dead. No no he's not a zombie. No he's. Um. He's a werewolf. Yeah like a shapeshifting one. So uh. Congrats?... Sorry. Yeah. Maedhros's been feeding him well though. No?... Oh. Alright. No yeah I understand. Yeah. Okay. Sorry.

meanwhile galadriel in menegroth is like. i feel a great disturbance in the force-

and PLEASE i ENJOY getting asks like these, i'm always open to asks about my aus or fics or silmarillion in general! it's basically if someone wrote it down instead of me and i'm always exited to read them

[one-abuse-survivor]

first i want to say, i know you won’t be able to remember or find it because i didn’t sign it or anything, but a long time ago i vented to you about the abuse and trauma i was enduring, and i wanted to let you know that i’m in a much better state of mind now, and i’ve learned a lot of coping skills that have helped me emotionally regulate to the point i can function. thank you for listening to me during that time and being so supportive, it really helped a lot.

now comes a content warning: [mentions of abuse, physical assault, violence, rape]. i’d like to ask your thoughts on something new. i’m a young adult now, been one for years, i’m working on building my own life and everything, have a healthy romantic relationship now and all that. not everything is perfect, but things are pretty good compared to how it used to be. recently, i started having frequent vivid nightmares. it’s not just general scary stuff. i had a dream that a boy i’ve only talked to a few times raped me. he’s never done that in real life. the dream still felt real. i’ve had multiple nightmares about my dad physically and emotionally abusing me and my family. there’s lots of hitting. last night, i dreamt that he was physically assaulting us, and he even choked me out. i thought he was going to try to kill me. the dreams about my dad have relevance to real life, as he has abused us in real life, though not to the level of violence that my dreams have. i thought the nightmares might be part of trying to finally start to recover from long-term trauma. but some of the dreams don’t have anything to do with trauma i’ve endured. they’re always traumatic, but not trauma i’ve had in real life. i really don’t know what to think or to do. i’ve never had nightmares this bad before, not even in the midst of my real-life trauma. it makes it hard to sleep. i even feel afraid to sleep sometimes, like if one wakes me up in the middle of the night, i might try to stay awake because i’m afraid of what else i might experience when i fall back asleep. on one hand i want to know why i’m having so many so often, so that maybe i can use that information to help relieve myself of them. on the other, i want to know how to cope with them. i know they aren’t real, logically speaking, but i am having real, painful emotional and cognitive experiences, so the knowledge that it “isn’t real” doesn’t really help me. i wanted to ask your thoughts on this. thank you again for listening :) i hope you have a great day ♥️

Hi, nonnie! I might not know what your previous ask was, but I'm really glad to hear from you again and to hear you're doing well. I'm really glad to have been of help ❤️

The nightmares you've been having sound horrific, and I'm really sorry you're going through this :(

I can tell you that it's not uncommon to develop new symptoms of (C-)PTSD years after the traumatic events have stopped. So yes, the nightmares only recently starting up can be a PTSD symptom, even if they never happened during the time you went through the trauma. But I'm not a professional, and I can't really tell you why you're having them so often. I can theorise, and say that maybe as you've progressed in your recovery and have started to feel safe in your real life, your subconscious is feeding you horrible traumatic scenarios in an attempt to keep you prepared in case anything bad happens again, like it doesn't want to let its guard fully down yet. But that's just one possible reason this could be happening.

Also, although I've never had a phase of frequent nightmares as severe as yours, I have had many trauma nightmares over the years, and I've also dreamt about my mother doing things she never actually did in real life. So, you're not the only one! And I personally think it makes sense. Dreams aren't coherent or rational, and they naturally tend to mix reality with fiction, at least for me. So I personally don't worry too much about my trauma nightmares being an accurate reflection of the abuse I endured.

As for ways to cope with the nightmares, I'm afraid I also can't be of much help. I can tell you that certain habits can make us more prone to vividly experiencing/remembering our dreams. For example, if you consistently don't get enough sleep, your brain might sink directly into the deep sleep phase when you go to bed, and that can make you more aware of what you're dreaming. On a different note, one thing that used to help me years ago (not with nightmares, but with insomnia) was to fall asleep while reading the most boring books I could find, and not stop reading until I fell asleep. Maybe this could work as a distraction for you, to keep your mind away from replaying your previous nightmares in your mind as you fall asleep.

Is therapy an option for you currently? It sounds like a good therapist could give you some guidance on how to cope with the nightmares, and could also dig deeper into why this is happening and maybe give you some outlets or exercises to work through what's causing them.

I hope things get better soon. Sending all my support your way ❤️

[elshells]

#2 for the ask game?

~ @tabswrites

Thank you so much for creating this tag game! You came up with some really cool questions, and this one is actually one of my favorites!!

2. 🛏️ BED: What do your OCs dream about?

I'm not sure if this was meant to be taken literally or figuratively, but I decided to go with the former because I think those answers are much more compelling :)

SOPHIA – She rarely dreams, but when she does, it's not a good time. Her near-death experience as a Guardian triggered the beginning of recurring PTSD nightmares of the incident. Four years later, her mental state has improved and the dreams are less frequent, but not completely gone. In fact, they get worse during the events of the story (and with everything she goes through from the first chapter on, it's no wonder).

Occasionally, she'll have more mundane dreams of being a child again, which is much more pleasant. Running through the woods, climbing onto the roof through her bedroom window, talking to and getting to see her father again. Though she always wakes up feeling bittersweet when she realizes that it wasn't real.

JANUS– He has frequent, repeated dreams about his past—or at least, he thinks that's what they are. Janus' memory of his childhood is pretty hazy until his late teens, and even then there's a lot of gaps and missing bits of information, all for reasons he's unable to explain. But there's something uncanny about his dreams; he doesn't remember living through these experiences, and as far as he's concerned, they never really happened. Yet they're so vivid, so disturbingly familiar, that it's impossible to tell which ones could have been real. It bothers him so much that sleep in general has become incredibly difficult, so he doesn't tend to prioritize it. Of course, this results in him developing insomnia and a wildly inconsistent sleep schedule.

HARLEY – Harley spends a lot of time dreaming about her future—what she wants to be and who she becomes. Whether it's a positive or negative outcome, they tend to be fairly realistic, to the point that she doesn't necessarily realize she's dreaming. She'll wake up wondering if what happened was real, and then kick herself for not picking up on the inconsistencies of the dream. She hates the feeling of missing something important, which could be part of why she's so inquisitive and analytical (though not necessarily perceptive).

JADE – She keeps a journal so she can write down what she remembers from her dream the night before. Usually the thoughts are fragmented and make no sense, but she's fascinated by the abstract concepts and fluid nature of them, how they might connect or what they mean. More than once, she's turned to past dreams as subjects or inspirations for her art—then, she gets to decide what it truly means.

MAX – Max's dreams can be so trippy and off-the-wall—borderline nightmares, except they're entirely unbelievable. It's the feeling when you wake up and your first coherent thought is, "what the fuck was that?" He's also the type of person who will stroll into a room and drop the subject on a group of friends because he had the weirdest dream last night and you're not gonna believe it.

[zinniajones]

“Extremely strong atheism”

(tw death, fear, life-threatening danger, anxiety, drug use, war, cancer, car accident, near-death experience)

(copied from Twitter)

So "dread of ego dissolution" is a measure of an adverse psychedelic effect where you are terrified your self is being destroyed (similar to what I saw when I almost died?), and having this happen from psychedelics is associated with worsening depression (frontiersin.org/articles/10.33…)

I feel like when you've seen what actually happens when you die and your self is erased into nonexistence (speaking from my actual experience of almost dying, not a hallucinogen) it's almost impossible to stop being aware of it at every moment and freaking out about it constantly

I think my awareness of this may be an absolute contraindication to ever trying psychedelics again. There isn't ever going to be a "set and setting" where I'm not constantly aware and terrified of death, and you aren't supposed to give someone psychedelics when that's going on

Drugs like psilocybin and MDMA are also used to treat traumatic stress and PTSD, but even if that does anything (the overall effect might not be all that impressive), there's just something about this particular experience I had of seeing what death actually consists of

It's not like any drug I ever happen to take is going to change anything about our fundamental situation as decaying material beings trapped for a finite span in a physical universe before we're killed and erased like an animal dying. How is hallucinating supposed to fix this? I didn't have an out of body experience at all when it was happening, and actually, since HRT made me stop dissociating, it's possible it helped keep me grounded inside my body as it was being killed and my perception stayed completely fixed in place as everything was closing out

There's also some positive version of this apparently experienced under psychedelic use called "oceanic boundlessness" associated with better outcomes and improvement in depression symptoms. There's an entire history of calling it "oceanic". Why does it have to be that :(

But yeah, when you know that reality is actually a fucking horrifying nightmare you're trapped in and your body can literally die and wipe out your entire self forever, taking a drug that generates more apparent altered realities of an unclear nature seems extremely dangerous

And if there were a drug that did anything to fix this, it would have to be some kind of hypothetical drug that actually changes beliefs and values, something that makes you acquire a belief in an afterlife or postmortem "survival" even when there's still no evidence of this

Which would also be a really worrying effect for a drug to have and it's probably really good that drugs can't do that

I wish this was something that could be more conventionally addressed like depression, or like a specific phobia of water, but there's not a way to exposure-therapy yourself about the fact that death is still always there and waiting to finish the job of erasing you at any moment

Nobody understands why that experience isn't something I can just get over. I could spend however much money on therapy and still come out the other end as a body that knows it's going to die

A lot of "bad trip" experiences with psychedelics involve reports of something like fear that one will be trapped in a place for eternity or will experience something going on forever. Not the fear and certainty that everything is actually about to end in the next few seconds

I wish I had a subjective eternity to be terrified of, at least you'd still exist at all

I've been extremely angry since then, more than usual, at Christian religions claiming there is a hell, because I don't consider this a threat, I consider this a bogus promise they'll never make good on

It's "hell"? Who cares about that part? The point is they're telling people you get to keep existing after you die which is awful and untrue and a disservice to everyone

I have actually screamed at campus preachers about how this is worse than hell and how dare they even promise us hell? I'm hopeful that going through some studies of what is happening during "ego dissolution" in psychedelic use may provide some information on what my brain was doing and perceiving while I was drowning, although it should be specific to the the "dread" part (pharmrev.aspetjournals.org/content/74/4/8…)

I'm still very confused about how being dunked underwater for less than 5 seconds, and not having my body physiologically die or even come close, caused me to acquire that significant of an experience and apparent knowledge in what seemed like one key moment

Previous thread on how, at least on paper, this suggests cocaine is something that reinforces your sense of self and increases your confidence in a way apparently opposite of ego dissolution. I can't confirm that because you can't just be doing cocaine

That scale above was able to, for instance, show that cocaine use has an almost opposite effect of "ego dissolution" seen with psychedelics. Cocaine and psychedelics are tapping on the same slider there. So that's like saying doing cocaine was a life-changing spiritual experience (https://twitter.com/ZJemptv/status/1589853648074727424)

But does cocaine make you stop being afraid of death all the time? I really hope that when I do die I'm so out of it at that point that I have no real lucidity or comprehension at all of what's happening, because being completely aware that it's happening is the worst thing ever

I've had to stop describing it in so much detail because it was starting to give a couple people frequent ruminations about death after they read what I was saying and they hadn't even had a near-death experience, so just, going into death suddenly with eyes wide open is so bad

It also completely upends your life when you survive, there is so much now that I just don't care about anymore, because I can't force myself to consider it important enough to be worth spending my limited time on

I mean I completely understand now why my paternal grandfather absolutely lost his shit and went off the rails after serving in the Korean War and why my dad did the same twice after almost dying in a car accident at 18 and almost dying of leukemia in his early 30s

It has a way of absolutely arresting your attention, although in their cases it also led to an incredible amount of egregiously erratic and sometimes uncontrolled irrational behavior that was dangerous to themselves and others

As in problematic substance use, violence, unaddressed severe mental illness, a ton of destructive and maladaptive behaviors that I personally am not interested in leaning into

Anyway, I need a specific term for: this fusion of true belief and deep knowledge, reinforced by acquired experience, of an atheistic nonspiritual physicalism-materialism/other nondualism in the nature of the universe and consciousness, that entails destruction upon bodily death

Because this experience strongly confirmed for me some kind of Atheism And Then Some

I'm not exaggerating when I say I'm thinking about this on some level at literally all times since the moment it happened at approximately 1:00 PM on September 2. There's no way not to be aware of it even just as the backdrop of everything, and frequently it gets foregrounded

I've never believed in anything more deeply and strongly and genuinely than what I saw and experienced that day

There's weak atheism, there's strong atheism, and then there's this "extremely strong atheism" that honestly seems to have been imposed on me, in the form of an experience similar to the "faith conviction" sometimes described by adherents as their form of religious epiphany

Just not like a conversion, but a very emphatic reaffirmation that what I previously believed on a deep level is also in fact true in reality on a deep level

[blueseakelp]

crumbling under pressure, yet again

[andvys]

Love will tear us apart // part four 

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of ptsd, nightmares, alcohol consumption, mentions of drugs, not nsfw but still 18+, jealous and mean Eddie

Pairings: Eddie Munson x fem!reader // mentions of Steve Harrington x fem!reader

-

“So you’re still crushing on Eddie Munson?”

Your eyes widen, grip tightening on the telephone “w-what?” you exclaim, straightening your back as you sit up on your knees, the cushions of the couch soft beneath your legs.

“We have been talking for what- an hour?” 

“An hour, twelve minutes and thirty seconds to be exact.” another voice cuts in, making you furrow your brows in confusion, who is that?

“An hour, twelve minutes and thirty seconds yes-” “thirty five seconds now.” 

Jonathan sighs “anyways, we’ve been talking for over an hour and all you talked about was Eddie Munson.” 

“Who’s Eddie Munson?” you hear the voice in the background.

“Her crush.” Jonathan slurs, chuckling “he’s also a drug dealer, he sells weed and stuff.”

“What! He is not my crush!” you exclaim, making Jonathan chuckle. 

“Dude, that’s sick. I like Eddie Munson.”

“W-What- I, who is that?” you ask, feeling more confused than ever. 

“Who Eddie?” 

“What? I know who Eddie is you dumbass, who is the guy in the background?”

“Oh! That’s Argyle, he’s my friend.” 

“Dude, I’m so stoned.” Argyle says in the background. Jonathan only chuckles in response, mumbling some incoherent words.

You furrow your brows, an amused smile tugs at your lips as you lean back on the couch “Jonathan Byers, did you start smoking weed?” 

Jonathan clears his throat “yeah.”

You chuckle at the slur in his voice. In all those years you have known him, you have never seen- or well, heard him this way. 

"I never pegged you for a stoner, Jonathan.” 

“It helps me relax, you should try that too, it might help with the nightmares and the panic attacks.” 

You never actually considered it, taking something to help you with the weird symptoms you were experiencing lately. You never really considered taking medications let alone drugs in general but Jonathan was right, maybe it could actually help. 

“Yeah.. maybe that’s not a bad idea.”

“Or you could just inhale the sweet scent of Eddie Munson again-”

“Ugh shut up, I should've never told you about it.” you groan, running a hand down your face. You only told him that because you knew that he would be one of the people who wouldn't tease you for what Eddie did for you. Robin would have started teasing you relentlessly and Steve, you don't know how Steve would react considering he knows nothing of your weird interactions with Eddie. 

“Who else would you tell about it, Steve?” he scoffs.

“Who’s Steve?” 

“A dick.”

“Hey! Steve is nice.” you mumble, defending your friend. You know that he wasn't always nice to Jonathan but he changed after everything that happened with the upside down and Nancy “he is my best friend.”

“Ouch, what about me?”

“You ditched me for Nancy.” you joke, it wasn't exactly a lie. After Jonathan and Nancy became friends and later on started dating they both ditched you and Steve, that's how you and him became friends in the first place. 

You were there for him after they broke up and he was there for you when you had no one else to talk to after what happened to you. He knew of all the things that went down so you didn't have to lie and make up some bullshit story about running away from home the way you were forced to do with other people who approached you after you came back to school. 

“Speaking of Nancy- how are things between the two of you?”

“Uh good, I think.” he mutters “she’s applying to the same college as me.” he says, with a weird tone in his voice.

You raise your brows, “you don't sound too happy about it.” you point out.

“Well-”

“Dude not this again, this is stressing me out please don't talk about your girlfriend again- hey he has been talking about her all day.” his friend, Argyle, complains into the phone causing you to laugh. 

“Shut up- yeah let’s not talk about it. What about you, are you applying to any colleges?”

You sigh, staring blankly at your wall, you haven't really thought about it, your mind was taken over by anxiety and all the trauma you apparently haven't processed yet. Your grades were dropping too and you were certain that you were going to repeat senior year. 

“Uh- I don't know, I have a feeling that I’m not gonna make it.” you mumble “this year, I mean, my grades don't look good right now.” 

“Oh, how's that? You were always one of the best.”

“I don’t know, my mind is kinda- I’m just struggling.” you mumble. You know you don't have to hide your feelings when you talk to him even though you aren't as close as you used to be, you still tell each other everything.

“I’m sorry, y/n.” he speaks softly. 

“It’s okay, hey- uh how is Will doing?” you ask, you know he struggled more than you did after what happened.

“He’s good! He’s doing better here. I think moving away from Hawkins was good for him, maybe you should do that too.” 

“Yeah.” you trail off as you look at the large clock on your living room wall, the ticking sound getting too loud all of the sudden, making you feel anxious for some reason the longer you look at it. 

The ringing of your doorbell startles you. You blink, shaking your head, you look out the window, just now noticing the car in your driveway. 

“Oh shit, I gotta go, Steve’s here.” you mumble as you lean down, grabbing the boots that you picked out earlier, you put the phone between your shoulder and your ear so you can put your shoes on.

“Right, careful with the drinks, you might run into a certain someone and confess all your darkest secrets to him.” Jonathan chuckles. 

You shake your head at his words “there won't be any confessions tonight.”

“Tell me about it tomorrow and hey, Munson might be there, maybe you can buy some weed or ask for more cuddles.”

“Oh shut up, we weren't cuddling.” 

He laughs at your words and you can’t help but chuckle as well “I gotta go. Tell the fam I said hi.”

“Will do, have fun and don't get too drunk.” 

“Okay dad.” 

You rush towards the front door after hanging up the phone, looking at yourself in the mirror one time before you open it. Steve is leaning against the doorframe, a smile on his lips that widens when he sees you. 

“Hi.” you smile as you open the door further. 

His eyes widen as he looks you up and down “hi.” he smirks, licking his lips “y/n, I didn't think it was possible for you to get even prettier but wow.” he breathes, a slight blush on his cheeks as he stares at you.

“Pfft, look at yourself, you’re the pretty one here.” you say, trying to hide the flustered expression on your face. He is your best friend, you’re used to his flirting and teasing but he still manages to make you flustered every single time. 

“I guess we’d be a pretty couple, huh?” he smirks, his brown eyes staring right at you. 

Your lips part in surprise as you look into his eyes “I-”

“Hey dingus! Stop flirting, let’s go!” Robin shouts after rolling down the window in his car.

Steve rolls his eyes at her, flipping her off, making you chuckle. Robin mumbles something in the background as she looks at the two of you. 

“Okay, let’s go.” he smiles at you.

“I’m definitely getting drunk tonight.” you mumble as you grab your jacket before stepping out of your house. You didn't really like going to parties and you didn't really drink much either but after the awful and stressful days you’ve been having, your mind was just begging you for a short break from both the anxious thoughts and him. 

-

Eddie hated nothing more than parties, the awful music that blares through the house, the annoying drunk people who are either to giggly or too aggressive only cause him to roll his eyes every few seconds, he can’t wait to go home, listen to actual good music and just relax while reading his favorite book for the 100th time. He wasn't here for the fun of it though, he was here to make a couple of deals, the jock that invited him was nice enough for Eddie to agree. Both him and Wayne could use more money, but not even an hour in and he wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow him up.

Until you showed up.

He straightened his back, pushing himself off the wall as his eyes lock on you. He drowns out every noise, blind to everything else in the room, all he sees is you. His eyes widen slightly. You look so pretty. You always do but something about tonight has him frozen in place. You wear your hair differently tonight, you ditched your usual clothes for a pretty dress, a short one too, an oversized denim jacket thrown over your shoulders, a smile tugs at Eddie’s lips, his eyes soften the longer he stares at you, he ignores the weird feeling in his chest he always seems to feel whenever he looks at you or whenever he’s around you. 

He gulps as he eyes you up and down, a soft smile is resting on your lips as you look around the room. He hasn't seen you since the day he drove you home after you almost passed out in the bathroom. You haven't been to school ever since that day and he felt guilty and horrible for the way he treated you after you thanked him for what he did, especially after he witnessed your weird interaction with your brother. He wanted to apologize the next day but you didn't show up and the day after that you didn't show up either but he kept waiting for you, looking around the cafeteria in hopes that he would spot you somewhere but you were nowhere to be found, he walked past your lockers after every class but you didn't show up, for a moment it reminded him of the time you went missing but seeing you here now, puts his mind at ease. 

Something pushes him to go talk to you, to ask if you’re okay, to tell you how pretty you look but just as he takes the first step, someone else walks in, coming up behind you. Steve. He snakes his arm around your waist, pulling you into his chest, he kisses your cheek, you giggle in response as you look up at him.

Eddie’s heart drops at the sight, the soft smile falls from his lips and he watches the two of you with a scowl on his face. Fuck, why does it hurt so much to see you so happy with him. 

Steve grabs your hand and pulls you further into the house. Eddie’s eyes follow you trying to see more of you. He notices the lack of his bandana around your wrist and for some reason it saddens him. He liked seeing you wear something that belongs to him. He notices something else though, a bruise around your wrist that wasn't there before, was it from when your brother grabbed you? Anger welled up in his chest at the thought of someone hurting you. 

He spent many moments thinking back to your interaction with your brother. Was he hurting you? Was he the one who gave you those scars?

No. What Eddie had witnessed was purely just a fight between siblings who don't get along, right?

Feeling someone’s eyes on him, he turns back and finds Robin staring at him with a knowing smirk on her face, she chuckles as she walks towards him, turning to look at a girl who walked past her before she turns back towards Eddie.

“Hey.” she smirks. 

“Hi?” Eddie looks at the girl with a curious look in his eyes.

“You are pretty obvious you know?” 

Eddie raises his brows “what do you mean?” for a moment he thought she was talking about him making drug deals but it wasn't a secret so he didn't care about being obvious about being here for only, this. 

Robin chuckles, looking down for a moment before she raises her head again “your not so small crush on y/n.” she says as she leans closer to him as she looks around. 

Eddie gulps, eyes widening as he grows flustered, he shakes his head wildly “me? crushing on y/n? that���s bullshit.” he scoffs. 

Robin throws her head back, laughing at his words “yeah, you’re right, it’s total bullshit cause it’s not even a crush at this point, you are totally in love, dude!” she chuckles. You and Eddie might be the most oblivious people she has ever seen and met, you both aren't aware of your feelings, well, maybe you are but you keep denying it to both her and yourself but Eddie, Eddie is totally oblivious to his feelings, he won't even admit it to himself but she sees the way he looks at you when you aren't looking. He is the epitome of heart eyes. 

He opens his mouth to say something but Robin cuts him off, holding her finger up “Ah! No need to deny it, it’s written all over your face, just like the jealous look on your face when you saw her with Steve.” 

Eddie just scoffs as he crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back against the wall. 

Robin chuckles at the blush on his face, she has never seen him so flustered before, his cheeks are almost as red as the solo cups on the table next to him. 

“I’m not in love with her.” he scoffs, a frown on his face as he shakes his head once again. 

“Are you trying to convince yourself right now or..” 

He gives her a death glare causing her to chuckle again. 

“Anyways, you could like stop being a dick to someone who actually likes you and cares about you and maybe try to talk to her like a normal person instead of watching her like a creep and then saying the meanest shit to her because you are afraid of your own feelings.” Robin takes a deep breath after her short ramble, grabbing one of the solo cups, she nods at him before walking off. 

Eddie’s eyes widen, cheeks getting even redder now. You like him and care about him? What a bunch of bullshit “what feelings?” he mutters to himself.

Robin’s words echo in his mind for the majority of the night. Eddie had a hard time understanding his own feelings. Most of the time he was in denial when it came to anything complicated and it seemed to get worse when it came to you. 

One thing he was certain of; he hates seeing you in pain, he hates seeing you sad and scared. His heart ached in his chest when you were having a breakdown on the cold and dirty bathroom floor. Holding onto him for dear life, crying into his chest as you tried to breathe. He wanted to protect you more than anything, it hurt him to see you this way but it also hurt to see you so happy with someone. All night he had to watch you dance and laugh with Steve and Robin, now he didn't mind Robin, he doesn't know much about her but he likes her. Steve is a different story, he hates him. He doesn't know whether it’s because of his perfect status or if it’s because he has that one thing that Eddie can’t have? He doesn't know. 

That ugly jealous feeling inside of him, grew more and more, it was burning in his chest and he felt angrier throughout the night, Steve had his hands on you all goddamn night, on your waist, on the small of your back, holding your face as he kept kissing your cheeks, holding you against him as you both danced and you, you did nothing to stop him. You giggled every time Steve pulled you into him, trying to kiss you. At one point he even had his hands on your ass while you were dancing. 

His hands balled into fist and his jaw was clenched in anger, he couldn’t focus on anything but you and that happy smile on your face as you leaned into his touch. God, he hates you right now.

His eyes meet Robin’s again, the same look on her face as before, she knows, of course she does, the jealousy and the anger was anything but subtle.

Suddenly her eyes widen as she looks at something next to Eddie, a mix between a warning and a teasing look in her eyes. 

Eddie’s brows snapped together as he turned his head to see what she was looking at. It’s you, you abandoned Steve and were now walking towards him, a happy look in your eyes, the same soft smile on your lips as before. Your denim jacket was long gone allowing him to see more of your black dress, his eyes fall to the necklace around your neck, a simple silver chain, it reminds of something he owned once. He eyes your wrist, seeing the bruise more clear now, he could see the fingerprints, yeah, it was definitely from where your brother grabbed you. As if he wasn't angry already, seeing this filled him with more rage. 

“Eddie, I’m so happy to see you-” you speak over the loud music, your voice and the look in your eyes give away your drunken state “y-”

“What the hell do you want?” Eddie asks, rolling his eyes at you. He didn't mean to sound so rude but he was angry and pissed off already and now you out of all people came to speak to him. 

“I uh-” you mumble, looking around uncomfortably, you almost sobered up immediately “w-what are you up to?” 

Eddie glares at you as he meets your eyes “working and it’s a bit hard when you’re standing here so..” he mumbles, waving you off. 

You blink, the soft and happy expression on your face slowly falls and is replaced by something else, sadness? Disappointment? Whatever it was, it made Eddie feel guilty right away. 

“Right, uh- I’m gonna go.”

“Yeah you should.” Eddie speaks coldly.

You purse your lips, nodding at his words, you chuckle to yourself as you turn to walk away, you feel stupid for even thinking that you could have a normal conversation with him. 

Eddie stares at your back, dread settles in him, he knows it’s wrong to treat you this way, he feels horrible every time he does but for some reason he continues to treat you like shit every single time.

You stop and stand there for a moment before you turn back around, your eyes meet his and he watches you curiously, eying the confused look on your face “why do you hate me so much, Eddie?” 

The question has him taken aback. He stares back at your sad expression, all the happiness taken away from you again, god he feels so horrible. He hasn't seen you genuinely happy in a long time and the moment you were finally able to loosen up a little, especially after what happened a few days ago- he ruined it again.

You wait for him to say something, arms by your sides, your shoulders slumped as you wait and wait. You sigh, why do you even bother?

“Y/n, I-”

“Hey man, heard you were selling tonight.” 

You roll your eyes at the interruption. 

Eddie sighs, closing his eyes for a moment, he huffs in annoyance as he opens his eyes again “yeah, how much do you want?” he mumbles, looking at the guy in front of him. 

You stand back for a moment and stare at Eddie, he hates you and there's nothing you can do to change it, you tried to once but it was a lost cause, he would always hate you and you would always care about him. How couldn’t you? He saved your life, you wouldn't have made it without him but he doesn't know that and he never will.

You shake your head, ripping your gaze away from him, you turn around and walk away from him. You are too sober for this and you can feel the anger rising inside of your chest, it isn't directed at Eddie, no, you could never be angry at him but you are angry at yourself, for being so stupid, for caring about someone who hates you with every inch of their being. 

Eddie looks over the jocks shoulder, staring at your back as you walk into the kitchen, he wants to call out to you, tell you to wait so you can talk but he gets cut off again as another guy approaches him. Eddie sighs in annoyance as he looks at him, he recognizes him from math class, he would always sit in the back with him and talk Eddie’s ear off. 

“Fuck.” he mumbles, knowing that he won't be able to make a quick escape, he would try to avoid him but knowing that he’s one of the stoners who would buy the most, he’d be pretty stupid to run off when he could make a good deal right now even when he has to sacrifice his nerves and listen to a bunch of shit he doesn't care about. 

-

He finds you in the kitchen almost an hour later, you’re leaning against the counter, downing a drink swaying a little.

Where the hell is your stupid your boyfriend?

He huffs as he stares at your drunken form. He doesn't doubt that you have been downing one drink after the other since he last saw you, you looked tipsy earlier but now you look absolutely wasted. 

He watches as you throw the now empty cup down, reaching for another one.

Eddie shakes his head, rushing towards you “hey, I think that’s enough.” he says, grabbing the drink out of your hand. 

“W-What the hell?” you mumble as you look at the cup that’s been ripped out of your hand, staring at it in confusion before your eyes move up, looking into his eyes, the concern his eyes is impossible to miss, it makes you angry, why does he look at you like that when he hates you so much? 

“What the hell do you want? Didn't you tell me to leave you alone? I did, so fuck off.” you slur, glaring at him as you reach for a new cup but Eddie takes that one away too, putting it down. 

“You’ve had enough y/n.” Eddie warns, looking down at you, under different circumstances he might find the pout on your face amusing but the hurt and angry look in your eyes was anything but funny to him. 

“N-No, I don't think so.” you mumble shaking your head, you were drunk but not drunk enough to forget. 

“But I think so.” Eddie argues, pushing the cup away as you try to reach for it again. You groan in annoyance, glaring at him as you cock your head to the sight, staring at him, you blink, eyelashes fluttering, your lips are set in a pout. They look so kissable right now and you look so goddamn cute. A blush settles on Eddie’s cheeks at his thoughts. 

You lean against the counter, looking him up and down, he swapped his hellfire shirt for a washed out Metallica shirt, he’s wearing his signature leather jacket and his denim vest, he looks so good. “I like your shirt.” you blurt out. 

“You do?” he asks surprised. 

“Yes, I love their new album.” you smile. 

Eddie’s eyes light up, a smile tugs at his lips. Lucas did tell him that your music taste was similar. 

You take a step closer as you eye his necklace, reaching up to touch the guitar pick, Eddie’s breath hitches in his throat as you look up at him through your lashes “I- I like this, too.” you mumble, playing with the guitar pick. 

“Yeah?” Eddie whispers nervously. You have never been this forward with him, you always kept your distance, it was him who initiated the closeness of your bodies. In school, when he’d sit next to you, at the bar when he’d come close enough to feel your breath on his skin, in the bathroom at school when he held you- but it was never you, you never came this close to him. 

“Yeah.” you nod, the look in your eyes is so intense as you gaze into his brown eyes- it’s almost as if you are trying to read his thoughts, like you’re trying to take a look into his mind, like you’re trying to see his soul, trying to figure something out. You blink, looking away for a moment before your eyes return to his, you fingertips graze his chest and you look down at your hand. You want to touch him, to hug him again but you can’t. This is still Eddie, the same Eddie who hates you. 

You clear your throat, pulling your hand back again, you look down and you reach for the drink again.

Eddie groans in annoyance, pushing it further back again “I told you, you’ve had enough, y/n.”

“I’m not even drunk.” you exclaim, your eyes darting between him and the drink. 

“Uh- yes you are.” he grumbles. 

You roll your eyes at him and scoff, staring right into his eyes as you take the cup that Eddie put down, you manage to take a few sips before it’s taken away from you again, he slams it on the counter, spilling some of the liquid “stop it, you’re being a brat.” 

You hold your breath as you keep your eyes on him, the slight rasp in his voice made your stomach flutter, the look in his eyes didn't help either, why does he have to be so attractive? 

You reach for the cup again but Eddie grunts in annoyance, grabbing your wrists gently, he tugs you forward causing you to slam into his chest “I swear to god, y/n, stop. You’re only making it worse for yourself.” 

You snort, ignoring the way it feels to be pressed up against his body “and why the hell do you care? Oh and I still want an answer, why do you hate me so much, hmm?” 

Eddie gulps as he eyes your face slowly, he’s still holding your wrists in both of his hands, your chest is pressed against his and you are so close, even closer than the last time, your lips are only inches away from his. 

His heart flutters in his chest as your eyes flicker to his lips before they return to his eyes. Eddie breathes shakily, what does he even say? There is no answer to your question, there is no reason for him to hate you. He doesn't even hate you. Robin was right when she said that he is scared of his own feelings but he isn't about to admit that to you. 

You shake your head at him, of course he wasn't going to say anything. You think about what Robin said in the cafeteria a few days ago. 

Eddie’s eyes flicker down to your lips for a mere second, you would have missed it if you didn't stare at him as intently as you did, his pupils dilating the longer he stares at you it caused a wave of fury to crash through you. You have seen him look at you this way before. He either looked at you with anger and hatred in his eyes or with lust, like he wants to rip your clothes off and fuck you right then and there, was this the only thing you were good for? 

You don’t know whether it’s the alcohol in your system or the anger that is cursing through your veins that push you to say the next words. 

“Is it because you can’t have me? Because you can’t fuck me?” Something in the back of your mind was screaming at you to stop knowing you would regret it all in the morning, if you can remember any of this.

Eddie took in a sharp breath, staring at you in shock with his big brown eyes.

“Why else would you hate me? I-I never gave you a reason to.” you pause, drawing in a long breath “I was a-always nice to you but you treated me like shit, right from the start but why?” 

You didn't even notice how tense you were until you finally asked him the question that has been on your mind for years. 

Eddie stiffens, his heart is racing, his palms are getting sweaty against your skin as he stares at you, he didn't expect this. It doesn't help that you are standing there, completely pressed against his body with your short dress that leaves nothing to his imagination. Just a few days ago, you were sitting on the counter with your skirt riding up your bare thighs, making him all nervous and god, he feels like a creep for looking at you that way but fuck, you are perfect.

“Do you want to fuck me, Eddie?” you ask him with anger in your voice. 

His eyes widen even more, you press yourself even tighter against him and he is certain that you can feel him, all of him. He hates how much he loves it, the feeling of your body against his, he has spent far too many nights laying awake thinking of you in ways he would never actually get to have you. 

His lips are parted as he stares at you in surprise. 

You lean in closer and for a moment he thinks you’re about to kiss him but instead you stand on your tippy toes and lean in to whisper something in his ear, your lips brush against his ear lobe. 

“Fuck.” Eddie mumbles quietly, clenching his jaw. The feeling of your lips on his skin is something he will never be able to forget. 

“I’d let you.” you whisper. 

You will truly hate yourself tomorrow morning but right now, you don't care about anything. 

“If that means you’d hate me less.” 

You should have listened to Jonathan when he told you to be careful with the drinks. 

Eddie clenches his jaw, he pushes you away gently, he feels as though you are mocking him, you came to this party with Steve, your boyfriend and yet you are here with him, saying all these things to him you don't mean. He knows exactly what you are trying to do, you want to hurt him, mock him, give him a taste of something he can never have. 

“Stop that.” he says through gritted teeth as he pushes himself away from you, the hateful glare in his eyes returning as the concern slowly slips away.

You stare at each other for a moment, both quiet, both breathing heavily. Eddie tries to stop himself from saying something he will regret later on and you, you just look like you want to run away so you don't have to listen to the hurtful words that he is about to throw at you. 

He feels so angry all of the sudden, your words would have flattered him if things were different but you didn't mean what you said. You were playing with his feelings. You would never fuck him, you would never touch him, not the way that he wants you to at least. 

“I don’t want to fuck you.” he spits.

“I don't want to touch you.” he lets go of your wrists, not caring about the hurt look on your face right now. 

“I don’t want to see you.” 

“I don't want to hear your fucking voice.”

“I don’t want you anywhere near me okay? You wanna know why I hate you?” 

Lies. It’s all lies but Eddie can’t stop himself. His eyes are burning, his throat feels like it’s gonna close in on him, everything in him is screaming at himself to stop but he can't. 

You take a step back from him, his sudden outburst leaves you with a nervous and anxious feeling in your stomach, digging your nails into your palms, you clench your jaw as you straighten your back, fighting back your tears.

“I just fucking do, I can’t stand you, y/n, there's no reason, I just hate you.” and he hates himself even more in that moment, he’s lying to you and he's lying to himself and he’s running away from his feelings. 

You bite on your lower lip to keep it from trembling, you stare at him almost in disbelief. You nod, your breathing quickens and you suddenly feel lightheaded again, the same feeling you have felt a few days ago flooding through your body. 

You tear your eyes away from him, you need to get away from here, away from him. You reach for the drink again and this time he doesn't stop you, you down it in one go, throwing the empty cup away “thanks for your honesty.” you mutter weakly, turning away from him but before you can walk away, he grabs your elbow gently and pulls you back “y/n-”

You rip your arm out of his grasp, didn't he just say he doesn't want to touch you? 

“Don’t fucking touch me, Eddie.” you mumble angrily, you look up at him “I’ll make it easy for you okay? You don't have to see me anymore, you don't have to be around me and you certainly don't have to touch me.” you spat, looking at him through your tears, you take a deep breath, you want to walk away but something in the back of your mind is screaming at you to stay, to confront him further as you notice the guilty look in his eyes.

He is so irritating, perhaps the most irritating person you have met, he says the cruelest things and then he looks at you like some sad puppy and you hate it.

“You hate me? Okay.” you nod, wiping your tears away in anger “then stop saving me, Eddie. You are only making it harder for me.” you exclaim with a shaky voice. 

Eddie’s eyes dart from one place to another, he knows you are talking about the incident at the bar and the panic attack he helped you through a few days ago but somehow, it feels as though you are talking about something else. 

“I’ll stay out of your way s-so please, please, do the same for me instead of giving me false hope and breaking my fucking he-” you sniffle, pausing, you take in the shocked expression on his face at your words. 

He speaks your name softly but you don't give him the chance to say anything else, you just shake your head and walk past him, rushing out of the house, using the backdoor in the kitchen. 

Eddie turns around, staring at the door you just walked through. There are so many things running through his mind right now, so many questions but above it all there's the voice in the back of his mind that is telling him to go after you and he does after a moment of just blankly staring at the door, he rushes out of the kitchen, following you out. He knows he shouldn't have, he should leave you alone after what just happened but he can’t. 

He calls out to you as he spots you standing in the driveway. It’s freezing outside and you aren't even wearing a jacket. 

“Y/n! Hey..” he walks towards you, repeating your name but you are standing there, not moving, you’re almost stiff “you’re gonna freeze to death.” he complains, about to take his jacket off as he walks around you “listen, I’m-” his words get caught in his throat, “what the- y/n?” 

Your usual warm eyes, the color in them gone, instead it’s replaced by a milky color. 

Eddie gulps, he looks around, seeing if anyone else is out here but it’s just the two of you. He puts his hand on your shoulders “hey, y/n.” he speaks softly to no avail. 

“What the fuck..” he whispers, he shakes you softly “y/n!”

You don't react to his touch or his voice, you remain the same. A gust of wind blows through the dark streets at the same time as one of the street lights start flickering. A shiver runs down Eddie’s spine as he turns to look around, eying the street light closest to the two of you. His brows are furrowed in confusion, he has seen this before, the lamp in his bedroom would flicker every night a few days in a row but that was two years ago and it stopped ever since. 

“I-Is this some sort of panic attack?” he mumbles as he turns back to you, knowing you won't answer him anyways “come on, sweetheart.”

Thunder rumbles in the distance and lightning flashes through the sky as the rest of the street lamps start flickering. 

He takes your face in his hands, tilting your head up “y/n, wake up!” he slaps, your cheek softly “fuck.. please wake up, y/n!” he almost yells, eyes widening with fear, his heart jumps as the wind grows stronger, the lights flicker faster. 

He looks around, confused and scared as he looks back down at you. He doesn't know what’s going on, he doesn't know what the flickering lights have to do with the state you are in but he knows, he knows something is very wrong. 

He doesn't know what else to do, he doesn't know how to snap you out of the state you are in so he does what he did last time, hoping that it will help the way it did last time. He pulls you into his arms, gently moving his arms around you as he cradles the back of your head against his warm chest. His heart is beating against his ribcage, his eyes clouded with fear and worry. He holds you tightly, rubbing your back softly. 

“Fuck.” he whispers, there's something eery in the air, he can feel it, he can see it, it’s right in front of his eyes. 

“Please, please wake up.”

-

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[calpalirwin]

Phantom Pain

Summary: Trauma bonding turns into a full blown crush with Bucky

Word Count: 2.9k

And away, and away we go!

__

You heard the startled gasps behind you as you lowered your body before pulling yourself up on the pull up bar again. “Yes?” you questioned, repeating another rep.

“I-I-I-” a teenage boy's voice stuttered. “Mr. Stark!” he yelled in slight panic.

You sighed, letting go of the bar and landing on your feet. “Yes?” you repeated, turning to face the lanky teenager with his mop of brown hair, and his companion, a girl a few years older, stifling giggles into her hands, both of their cheeks flushed. “Oh,” you said in realization. “You must be Peter. Uh, Tony’s in the lab, I think.”

Peter nodded mutely, before quickly dashing out of the training room, leaving you face to face with the young woman. “Gay,” you said simply. “And I think Vision’s with Tony.”

Her blush deepened, as she too, hightailed it out of the room with a muttered “Tony has a brother?”

You chuckled quietly to yourself. Of course your brother wouldn’t have told his newest members about you. Something about it not being vital information, and liking the shock value of it.

“And this is the training room,” a voice you did recognize said as Steve came into your line of sight, a man matching his stature trailing behind him silently. “Oh, hey, Stark.”

“Capsicle,” you greeted with a salute.

“Stark?” the other man asked in confusion. “I thought-”

“Fortunately there’s two of us,” you corrected. “Or unfortunately, depending on your opinion of Starks in general. Y/N,” you introduced yourself, offering out your hand.

“Bucky,” the man said, shaking your hand.

“Nightmares, again?” Steve asked you, his eyes glancing about the room.

“Sometimes you frighten me with how observant you are, Rogers,” you said grimly.

“Nightmares?” Bucky questioned, intrigue painting the features of his perfectly sculpted face.

“An unfortunate lingering side effect of my time in the Army, yeah,” you explained. “Something I’m sure you can relate to,” you added with a pointed glance at Bucky’s left arm which was completely metal, your mind already curious to how it worked, and how to make it better. “Working out helps. Something about physical exertion canceling out mental exertion.”

“Well, I might have to join you some time. See if your theory holds up.”

You held out your arms, gesturing about the giant training room. “Feel free. Everything here is open 24/7 to accommodate the mad geniuses and PTSD freaks.”

“And which one are you?” Bucky asked. And you knew it was a stupid question given what little information you had already provided him with. But you could also recognize a flirting edge when you heard one.

“I feel like the answer’s obvious. But, in the event that it’s not, I’m both. Pleasure to meet you, Bucky. And welcome to Avengers headquarters.”

~~~

A couple nights later, you were in the lab tinkering about, when you saw Bucky walk by in gym shorts and a tank top, his hair pulled back in a small bun. “Can’t sleep, huh?” you called out.

His body tensed as he whirled around, relaxing when he saw it was you. “Yeah. Thought I’d try out your theory.”

“It’s a good theory,” you assured, before refocusing on what you’d been working on.

“You have a lot of faith in a theory I’ve yet to test for myself,” Bucky said, stepping into the lab with you.

“I don’t do faith. I do facts,” you replied bluntly.

“Mmm, then how do you know it’s a good theory?”

“A good theory isn't whether it’s proven to be correct or not. A good theory is about being able to be repeated and replicated. Tested multiple times over and over. My theory just also happens to be correct.”

“Wow, you are a Stark.”

“I’m not an idiot, is what you mean. But rest assured I don’t have the same level of arrogance my brother inherited from our father. Or at least, I like to believe I don’t. But, results don’t lie. The physical exertion that comes from working out is enough to distract the brain from the mental exertion that comes from unwanted memories. Is it perfect? No, because it’s not a cure. But it does well enough anyway. And you can take my word for it. Or Rhodey’s, or Sam’s, or Steve’s. And that’s just the military crew. Or, you can test it for yourself. As I said, it’s a good theory. Very testable.”

Bucky’s tongue clicked in his cheek. “Mmm, and if it’s such a good theory, why are you here in the lab instead of in the training room?”

“A distraction, is a distraction, is a distraction. And I have work to do.”

“And what is it that you’re working on?” he asked, stepping closer to peer over your shoulder.

“Prosthetic limbs for amputees. Ones that aren’t hunks of metal. No offense.”

“None taken. I didn’t exactly get a say in the matter.”

“Right… Sorry…”

“No, don’t apologize. Something more… realistic looking would be nice. But the metal’s worked so far. Enhances already enhanced abilities.”

A shudder went down your spine. “Right. Super soldier strength mixed in with whatever tech is loaded up in that thing. I’ve taken a lot of hits in my day that I’d hate to experience again, but I’d do it if it meant a guarantee of never being on the receiving end of being hit by that. Like… the damage you were able to inflict on Tony, even in his suit…” you let out a low whistle. “Damn… no thanks.”

“Sorry? I think?”

You laughed, waving a hand dismissively. “Please. It’s not that he didn’t deserve it. The amount of times I wish I could clock him myself… My only regret was having not been there to actually see it.”

“Why do I get the feeling you and Tony don’t actually get along?”

“Oh, we do. It’s just… typical sibling shit, I suppose. We had different ways of coping with our parents dying. He went the standard billionaire spoiled brat route. I went to the Army. He took over the company. I stayed in the Army. He realized the damage the company was actually doing and became Iron Man. I was part of that damage.”

“Shit…”

Again, you waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t get me wrong. He’s my older brother. I love him. He’s rectified a lot of his past by helping turn Stark Industries into the Avengers. He's, dare I say, gained a conscience. But he’s also far from perfect. Still too arrogant for his own good. But I like him a lot better these days than I used to. I mean, I’m here.”

“So… you work for him? Doing what exactly?”

“Yes, and no. I live and work here, yes. But I don’t necessarily work for my brother. I help him and Bruce out a lot. Perks of not being an Avenger myself means I’m here to keep working when they’re gone. But, for the most part I keep to myself doing my own project.”

“Right, the prosthetic limbs. Personal reasons?”

“Yeah, you could say that. Seen my fair share of wounded vets. And seen my fair share of their struggle with shitty prosthetics. And even if they are complete shit, they’re also expensive. But I’m in a position where I can make non-shitty ones and, pun not intended, not have them cost people an arm and a leg. So, that’s what I do. Each prototype gets me closer and closer to making them as realistic as possible. Restoring range of motion you won’t get with cheap plastic wrapped around steel. It’s like… a complete limb transplant. Or that’s the ultimate goal anyway. Make prosthetics so real it’s like you never lost a limb in the first place.”

“That’s… noble of you.”

You shrugged. “Let’s just say I have a soft spot for broken things.”

Bucky smiled at that.

~~~

For the next handful of months, it wasn’t uncommon for Bucky to find you awake in the lab, or for you to find him awake in the training room.

Some nights, the two of you would work out your frustrations of the memories that haunted you both, and you’d tease him about how it wasn’t fair you always drenched through your shirt while he barely broke a sweat, smiling at the way he’d laugh.

Other nights, the two of you would swap war stories while he watched you work in the lab, and when you gathered up the courage to ask to run tests on how the tech in his arm worked to further your own research, he willingly obliged.

“So… were you just an enlisted soldier, or an officer?” he asked one night while you tinkered away.

“An officer. Made First Lieutenant.”

“That’s just below Steve. Which…”

“Is still lower than Sergeant, yes,” you laughed. “Technically anyway. But as an officer, I would still outrank you.”

“What happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… no offense, but First Lieutenant isn’t exactly brag worthy. I imagine you meant to go further. What happened? Was it the damage you mentioned with Tony?”

You nodded. “Yeah. The same accident that started his whole Iron Man gimmick was the same accident that ended my career.”

Bucky nodded, and you knew he wanted to ask more, but didn’t want to pry or overstep. And you were grateful for that. It was one thing to own up that your PTSD stemmed from an incident that ended your military career. It was also one thing to own up to how your experience in the military drove you towards creating prosthetic limbs. But to admit that there was a deep personal connection between the two? That wasn’t something you liked to fess up to. “I’m sorry,” Bucky finally said, feeling the need to say something about your half confession. To acknowledge it without asking more.

You smiled wryly at him. “It’s f-” Your face twisted, and your fingers white-knuckled the table as pain flashed through your leg.

Bucky’s eyes went wide. “You okay?” he asked, moving around the table towards you, his hands hovering nearby in case you fell.

“Knife!” you gasped out, gritting your teeth and humming loudly to keep from screaming out in the pain you knew wasn’t real. “Get me a knife!”

Bucky stood there, frozen, staring at you in horror.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” you barked at him. “I know you have a knife on you! Give it to me! That’s an order, Sergeant!”

That snapped Bucky into action. “Yeah, yeah,” he said, rummaging in his pockets. “Here!”

The sharp steel glinted in the lights as you took it from him and promptly shoved it deep into your right shin.

“What the fuck?!” Bucky yelped, jumping back. “WHAT THE FUCK?!” he repeated when no blood came pouring out of the wound as you yanked the knife back out.

“Aaaahhhh,” you sighed in relief, the pain ebbing away. You relaxed the tension in your body, breathing slowly. “Fuck… hate when that happens.”

“What… the… actual… fuck?” Bucky asked for a third time in a low whisper.

“Relax, it’s fake,” you said, flashing the knife. “See? No blood.”

“I- I-” he stammered.

“It’s called phantom limb pain. Happens in amputees all the time.” You took a seat, pushing up your pant leg to your knee, detaching the prosthetic and tossing it uselessly onto the work table. “Piece of shit,” you muttered, before pulling a tape-recorder out of your pocket. “Prototype 27. Failure, as of,” you spared a glance down at the date on your watch, speaking that into the tape recorder as well. “What?” you asked Bucky who was staring at you with his mouth hanging open.

“That explains… so much. But… why didn’t you just tell me?”

You shrugged. “It’s not something I tell people. Lost my leg in an explosion caused by weapons my family made? Yeah, not exactly a conversation starter.”

“I get that, but… c’mon. It’s me.” He gestured at his left arm.

“Yes, you who- and please don’t take offense to this- doesn’t remember the trauma of losing his arm, and has never experienced the pain that is phantom limb pain.”

“I don’t remember the trauma thanks to years of more trauma that is being brain-washed, and having my mind controlled,” he replied in a clipped tone.

“Yes, the entire world is aware of your trauma, Barnes. Must be nice to have people be aware of what you’ve gone through.”

“People would be aware of what you’ve gone through too, if you’d tell us instead of hiding in jeans and sweatpants!”

“Why would I tell people?! For sympathy?! Or to hear them tell me that I deserved it?! Because news flash, both of those outcomes fucking suck!”

His face crumpled. “Why would anyone think you deserved this?”

You scoffed at his naivety. “It’s poetic justice, Bucky. My own family took my leg. They took Tony’s heart, too, but hey! Look what he made as a result! Isn’t it fuckin’ marvelous?! Tony Stark loses his heart, but gains a soul. Y/N Stark. Loses his leg, and nobody cares.” The words were bitter on your tongue.

“You don’t strike me as the pity party type.”

“I’m not. That’s why I don’t tell people. And yes, maybe there’s a selfish part of me that does what I do strictly for me. Maybe I never would have thought to do all this if I wasn’t an amputee myself. But I’m here, and I’m doing it. And I’m not going to use my story to gain attention and credit that I don’t even want in the first place. Tony thrives in the spotlight. Me? Never been my thing.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I think your project’s pretty great. And I don’t see your personal attachment to it as a hindrance. If anything, I bet it pushes you further. To keep trying, even when what you have is already worlds better than what’s available already. But I also get wanting to keep parts of you to yourself. The sympathy vote isn’t the best feeling.”

“Thank you,” you mumbled. “And I’m sorry for what I said about how it must be nice to have people aware of your trauma. Well… I’m sorry for how I said it. There’s quite a laundry list of things that will turn me into an asshole, and phantom limb pain ranks pretty high on that list. But I didn’t mean it as an attack, and if it came across that way, I do apologize.”

“Don’t worry about it. To an extent you’re right. The whole world knowing what happened to me… it dulls the shock value of a lot of things. Justifies a lot of my actions. So, for the most part, it’s incredibly beneficial. But sometimes I wish I could just… I dunno. Be Bucky without people making their assumptions about what that means.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I try to make it a habit of drawing my own conclusions about people rather than listening to the assumptions others have made about them. So, at least with me, you can be Bucky, and that can be however you want it to look.”

“Thanks. I’d uh… I’d like that.” He smiled softly at you, and you smiled back, watching as a blush crept over his face. “Um… Are you going to need help back to your room? Cuz I can help, if you need me to.” The blush grew darker as he shifted his eyes about the room.

“Uh…” you stammered, a blush coming to your own face. Normally when you tossed aside a rejected prosthetic, you either stayed in the lab until you made a new one, reattached the useless one and begrudgingly dealt with it until you felt up to making a new one, or, in super rare cases when you were sure you were alone, wheeled yourself about the headquarters in a chair. But, here was Bucky, offering to help hobble you off to your room. And the thought of him helping support your weight, or God forbid carry you was enough to make your heart sped up. “Even without the weight of a leg, I’m still not exactly light, or small,” you told him. You weren’t as tall as Bucky, that was true, and you certainly didn’t have super soldier serum running through your veins. But you were still very much the standard rugged American soldier type with broad shoulders and well-defined muscles of your own.

Bucky just scoffed at the notion before picking you up in his arms.

“Jesus, fuck!” you exclaimed, throwing an arm around his neck to help support your weight as he headed for the door of the lab. “I swear if you drop me…”

Bucky chuckled, his chest rumbling into your side. “Relax. I’m not gonna drop you. Now, tell me where I’m going.”

You rattled off the quickest route to your room, both hating the vulnerability of being carried in his arms, and loving the security of it.

“See?” he beamed proudly, as he set you on your bed. “Told ya I wouldn’t drop you.”

“Thanks…”

“Anytime.”

“Bucky, wait,” you called out when he turned to leave. “Um… Would you mind maybe staying?”

“Here? With you? In your room?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, the 1940s gentleman thing is real charming.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s um… You know I’m gay, right?”

“Well… That makes the, uh… oh, I can’t believe I’m gonna say this, but that makes having a crush on you a lot easier. Or a lot worse, depending on how things go.”

He blinked at you in confusion, not sure if he was hearing you correctly.

“I like you, Bucky. So are you gonna stay?”

He grinned, happily walking back over to you. “I like you too. And yeah, I’ll stay.”

__

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[thereaderstea]

I am back! I’ve been having a tough time to be honest and I was wondering if you have any fic recs that deal with mental health/illnesses? Just need fics that let me know I’m not alone here:( - ☂️

welcome back and merry meet, ☂️ carissima! i'm so happy to see you again! i'm sorry to hear you've been having a tough time; i want you to know my inbox and dms are always open if you ever need a listening ear 💜 also, here’s a mental health resource list.

mental health and mental illness are my favorite topics! so i have a lot of them in my library. i have also started reading on and navigating ao3, so i included a couple of fics from there. i included just the mental health warnings for each fic, but please check the fic's warnings before reading as most (if not all) of these fics are heavy and the multi-chaptered fics indicates what each chapter includes.

general warning: these fics (under the cut) may contain topics of mental health, mental illness, physical illness, death, grief/mourning, suicidality, panic attacks, abuse, and more.

BTS Mental Health Fic Recs

lost, then found by @magicalcrwn ➵ksj x reader | angst, fluff, hurt/comfort | oneshot | 2.2k ➵mental health warnings: talks of loneliness, existential crisis, implied suicidal thoughts

“When it comes, the two hands overlap / Then the whole world holds its breath for a moment / Zero o’clock“

Life is hard, sometimes you just gotta take a step back and breathe.

Stay by @sahmfanficbts ➵jjk x reader | hurt/comfort | established relationship au | oneshot | 2.9k ➵mental health warnings: depression, recovery, mentions of suicide

“Till death do us part” Your husband JK will do everything in his power to help you see how much he needs you to stay.

Candle by @tae-cup | The Reader's Tea ➵myg x reader | angst, fluff | oneshot | 4.3k ➵mental health warnings: depressing thoughts, thoughts of suicide, recovery.

You met him at the lowest point in your life. He was your candle, your light, and he helped you fly to the clouds.

nightlight by @minniepetals ➵ot7 x reader | angst, fluff, hurt/comfort | mafia au | oneshot | 7.7k ➵mental health warnings: mentions of abuse, mentions of death, reader has insomnia, nightmares.

things have never been easy for you but you never expected it’d be them that would make things easier.

heartbeat by minniepetals ➵ot7 x reader | angst, fluff, hurt/comfort | hybrid au | oneshot | 9.7k ➵mental health warnings: mentions of abuse, anxiety, nightmares.

running away from your master is never easy so you deem yourself this will be the last time if you are fatefully brought back to his hold again. so what happens when you stumble upon seven men who says they won’t bring you back? what happens when they promise you their love and care instead?

comforting arms by minniepetals ➵ot7 x reader | fluff, hurt/comfort | established relationship au | drabble | 1.2k ➵mental health warnings: stress, sadness/feeling down.

they come home to find you silently crying to yourself.

What Money Can Buy by @jeonstudios ➵jjk x reader | angst, fluff | oneshot | 17.8k ➵mental health warnings: reader has depression, loneliness, mentions of death.

in need of money, jeongguk signs up as a sugar baby, assuming he’ll be paid for sex by some old kinky woman. he never expected to meet someone like you. what were you doing on that site, and why would you have to pay for company?

A Place Called Home by @agustdakasuga | The Reader's Tea ➵➵ot7 x reader | fluff, angst, hurt/comfort | hybrid au | series | 88.3k ➵arctic fox!seokjin, panther!yoongi, golden retriever!hoseok, wolf!namjoon, calico cat!jimin, tiger!taehyung, rabbit!jungkook,  vet!mc, human!mc ➵mental health warnings: ksj has anxiety, ksj was non-verbal, pjm has PTSD and anxiety, recovery, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, injuries, fighting rings.

Having saved your own injured hybrid, you were determined to try and help any other hybrid that crossed your path who needed saving. But being a vet in a small hospital wasn’t enough for you. You wanted to do more, you wanted to make a difference. You wanted to give them a home.

Fix You by @casuallyimagining ➵myg x reader | fluff, angst, slow burn hurt/comfort | hybrid au | series | ongoing ➵mental health warnings: discussion of physical abuse, emotional abuse, discussion of sexual abuse, discussion of self-harm

When you take in a stray cat, you have no idea he’s secretly a hybrid trying to escape his past. Can you help him heal?

Filtering Light by @sybilwriting ➵jjk x pjm x reader | fluff, angst | hybrid au | series | ongoing ➵bunny!reader, human!jimin, human!jungkook, ft. human!seokjin, human!yoongi, golden retriever!hoseok, tiger!taehyung ➵mental health warnings: mentions of past abuse, allusions of sexual assault, recovery, reader has anxiety and PTSD, panic attacks.

the reader is a bunny hybrid with a past that has left her traumatized and struggling to heal. some things can be helped with therapy, but some things can only be fixed through realizing you’re not all of the things that hurt you—you are, in fact, just loved.

Before I Leave You by @hollyhomburg ➵ot7 x reader | fluff, angst, slow burn, hurt/comfort | omegaverse, mafia au | series | ongoing ➵omega!reader, omega!seokjin, omega!jungkook, beta!yoongi, alpha!hoseok, alpha!namjoon, alpha!jimin, alpha!taehyung ➵mental health warnings: emotional and physical abuse, forced mating marks, graphic murder scenes, negative self-talk, self-esteem issues, non-verbal characters, abandonment, PTSD, hurt/comfort, agoraphobia, implied/referenced self-harm, suicidal thoughts and brief desperate suicide attempt, gender dysphoria, internalized transphobia, internalized misogyny, unintended outings, epilepsy.   

Someone always has to leave first; They just didn’t expect Yoongi to come back with a new omega (who’s clearly been through some shit).

Don’t Worry Love by hollyhomburg ➵jhs x reader, pjm x reader | angst, hurt/comfort | duology | 4.5k ➵mental health warnings: mc has anorexia/eating disorder, anxiety, fainting.

You thought you had your bad habit under control- but when you wake up in a hospital room your boyfriend: Jung Hoseok confronts you- rightfully angry that you nearly starved yourself to death.

Part 1: Don’t Worry Love | Part 2: Just For You

Open Up Baby (Just Let Me In) by hollyhomburg ➵jhs x reader | fluff, hurt/comfort | established relationship au | oneshot | 2.1k ➵mental health warnings: depictions of mental illness, mc has PTSD, night terrors, anxiety attacks, flashbacks, implied abuse.

Hoseok knows that opening up is hard, and that healing is harder. But can see you struggling- but he’s torn, he can’t let you drown under the weight of whatever this is. He just wants to help you. He just wants to know.

Eyes On Me by hollyhomburg ➵knj x reader | fluff, hurt/comfort | established relationship au | oneshot | 4.3k ➵mental health warnings: knj has anxiety and panic attacks.

Kim Namjoon knows how bad his anxiety can get, but when he starts having panic attacks you decide to step in: lakeside hijinks ensue.

Sweet Like Honey (Break Like Glass) by hollyhomburg ➵kth x reader | fluff, angst | established relationship au | oneshot | 6.7k ➵mental health warnings: mentions of body dysmorphia, self-esteem issues, dysphoria, internalized self-hate, references to eating disorder.

Taehyung knows there’s something wrong with his girlfriend; the way she can’t look at herself in the mirror sometimes or the countless other bad days. He makes it his mission to make her feel as beautiful as possible.

eternal sunshine by sunlightvmin (ao3) ➵knj x jjk | angst, domestic fluff, hurt/comfort | android au | oneshot | 13k ➵mental health warnings: epidemic, death, suicide attempt, depression, anxiety disorder, grief/mourning, recovery, philosophical/existential talks, morality. ➵make sure you read/scroll all the way to the bottom because i almost didn’t and nearly lost my heart.

When half of the world dies, Namjoon forgets what it is like to live.

Android JK-0901 helps him learn how to, again.

Calcu-LATER by tae-cup ➵kth x reader, pjm x reader | fluff, angst, humor | college au | series | ongoing ➵ mental health warnings: slight internalized homophobia, anxiety attack, implied disorder.

Math never fails you. The numbers might not always make sense, but you know there must be a solution. Everything fits together like a perfect puzzle, like your tidy life and solitary living…until Kim Taehyung spills paint all over your notebook. He, quite literally, trips into your life.

Ch 1. Gouache on Calculator’s by Kim Taehyung | The Reader’s Tea Ch 2. Social Events? I Think Not | The Reader’s Tea Ch 3. Valentine’s Day | The Reader’s Tea Ch 4. Colossians 3:9 | The Reader’s Tea

it's hard to keep the colors inside the lines by orphan_account (ao3) ➵pjm x knj | college au, cafe au | duology | 38k ➵mental health warnings: pjm has insomnia, implied eating disorder, anxiety, panic attacks, mention of suicide. ➵i actually just started reading this the other day and haven’t been able to finish it yet but i love it so far! knj is an adorable, lanky barista who rambles and pjm is, in the author’s words, “a soft anxious cupcake.”

Park Jimin’s just trying to get through life without collapsing of sleep deprivation. Good thing Kim Namjoon works at a sleep clinic.

If I Only Get A Year With You by hollyhomburg ➵ksj x reader | angst, domestic fluff, hurt/comfort | oneshot | 2.1k ➵mental health warnings: mentions of death and self-harm, grief.

When both of your significant others die in the same car crash there is no one else you can turn to besides your longtime friend, Kim Seokjin. You both run away to grieve, but what you find in your sadness is more than you could have ever hoped for.

Beyond Reach by @jimlingss ➵jhs x reader | angst | grim reaper au, ghost au | series | 6 ch. | ➵priestess!mc, ghost!hoseok, reaper!namjoon, ft. other members ➵mental health warnings: death, topics of suicide, topics of illness.

If someone could see what you could, they’d pass out. But you don't blame them. Who would ever expect for a ghost, a priestess and a grim reaper to be together - much less be rescuing others.

Stay by @deepdarkdelights | The Reader’s Tea ➵pjm x reader (first person pov) | angst | oneshot | 1.8k ➵mental health warnings: topics of death and dying. quote from stay:

“The world was one that had been plunged into darkness, devoid of the sky, devoid of the ground, and devoid of life. It was just the dark mist overhead and me. [...]

Was I even alive, had I ever been born? What is this strange but familiar place?”

here you go, mea ☂️ carissima! i hope you enjoy these stories, and remember that i’m here if you need an ear 💜 i wish you a well journey through your tough times.

sweet water and light laughter till next we meet,

your fellow reading monster, tor-mon 🖤

[sophiamcdougall]

So, there’s something I think is missing from the Booker Discourse and the focus on anger vs forgiveness, and whether Booker’s “punishment” is too harsh and who’s responsible if so, and its absence is beginning to slightly disturb me and it’s this: They don’t punish Booker. At all. 

No, really.

It’s one of the things I really like about the film -- how compassionately it treats Booker, both on a narrative and on an inter-character level. In most genre films wrongs against the good guys are usually settled with riproaring vengeance, even if in some the hero conveniently gets not to be the one to enact it directly.  But in the moment Booker’s betrayal becomes clear, character beats we have taken for mere melancholy click into place as heartwrenching grief and suicidal depression. We’re encouraged to grieve for him. We see Andy and Nile’s empathy for him. We see Nicky urging Joe to stop shouting at him even before they yet have any hope of escape. We don’t see a  moment of explicit compassion/restraint from Joe, but he does instantly put aside his anger to accept Andy’s decision that Booker’s coming with them, and does nothing to sabotage that choice. (In fact, it’s unthinkable that he would, but in plenty of action films it wouldn’t be.) And I agree with some of the arguments I’ve recently seen – the intensity of Joe’s fury isn’t necessarily a measure of how long it would last.

And then, as I say, they don’t punish him.

They don’t beat him up. They don’t work off steam killing and re-killing him. They don’t leave him for Kosak, or for the police. Of course they’d never do a full Quynh on him but putting him a box for ... a year? Six months? A week? It would be an option. They don’t do that, either.   

They simply stop hanging out with him. And they have the extraordinary grace to promise this won’t be permanent. And Andy, whom he shot in the back, sees him off with a goodbye hug.

I’m seeing a lot of debate about whether Joe (hotheaded, passionate) vs Nicky (still waters run deep) is The Angry One and which one of them might, by contrast, have been totally fine letting Booker back into the group immediately. I think you can plausibly headcanon the first part of that various ways. Personally I think Nicky would take a more severe line than Joe, although, as I’m about to argue, I don’t think that necessarily has to mean he’s “angrier”.)

What I don’t think you can plausibly headcanon is that either would actually be “fine” taking Booker back immediately, or any time soon.

Now I want to preface this with pointing out that anger is a completely natural and appropriate response to being hurt and whoever is The Angry One out of Nicky and Joe, has every right to that feeling. And to be fair I don’t think that’s really being disputed. But there does seem to be the idea that The Situation  – Anger = Everything’s Fine Now! And I do think it’s slightly ... victim-blamey, like the barrier to HEA isn’t what Booker did, it’s how long the people he hurt retain one specific emotion about it.  Whoever’s angriest is being staggeringly generous to Booker, and the result is 100% compatible with their not being “angry” at all. It’s compatible with “forgiveness” having already taken place. Just for a minute imagine writing to ... Captain Awkward, or Dear Prudence or Reddit Relationships. And explaining that your friend placed you in the power of people who wanted to hurt you, deliberately exposed you to very serious danger and your worst personal fear, and caused you to watch your partner trapped and in pain for somewhere in the ballpark of 48 hours ...  BUT, he is going through some very bad shit, guys, and you really do feel for him. Imagine what the response would be.  (”My friend wanted to commit suicide-by-cop, so he planted weed/guns in the car with me and my husband in it and called the police, although he knows we both have a particular phobia of cops after what happened to another friend who was arrested a while back. Oh and he attacked our other friend, because he wanted to be totally sure the cops would come for him, but he only meant to knock her out not to nearly kill her and he’s depressed and very sorry. I still want to put our friendship on a break. AITA?”)  They would yell at you to oh my god get away from him WTF how is this even a question please get some therapy learn to love yourself. 

And if you repeated that he’s really sad! And it went down worse than he thought it would! And you don’t want to hurt him! they would yell that it’s not about hurting him it’s about protecting you.   Just ... think about it. Imagine you’re either Joe or Nicky. Assume your anger has already completely evaporated, whether you think that’s in-character or not, and imagine you feel truly sorry for Booker. Take the most generous stance on what he did that you can. Fine. But every time you turn your back on him, or see him go off on a mission alone with one of the others ... how do you feel? Even if you don’t think he’d actually do this again, do you feel safe? 

 And imagine trying to recover from the trauma of what just happened to you. Imagine how much it would help to take refuge in all the soft, “family” touches which were also such a refreshing distinguishing feature of this film. Gift exchanges and bets and TV and hugs. Imagine trying to do that with the person who put you through it right. there.

 Nicky and/or Joe could honestly wish Booker no suffering at all, nothing but recovery and healing and peace, and Booker would still be a walking PTSD trigger and working/socialising with him would be downright self-destructive. 

Now, of course this is unpleasant for Booker because he’s already lonely and self-hating and it’s difficult -- though not necessarily impossible! -- for any of them to form a support system outside the group. But that really isn’t the team’s responsibility and, what is really the alternative? 

Maybe it’s being framed so much as “punishment” because Andy says “there has to be a price.” And there does; the consequences of Booker’s choice will unfold in some way whatever they do. The team do not have the option of simply resetting to normal, even if they wanted to. The only question is only who carries the weight of those consequences and how. Should Nicky and Joe have to pretend to feel comfortable around Booker, should they force themselves to go through the motions of friendship – hug him, smile at him, pass him a coffee – while their shoulders go up around their ears whenever he’s in the room, regardless of what that means for their own healing?

The injustice of that should be obvious but even if they did it, even if they made that colossal sacrifice for the person who just hurt them, would it really help Booker? Imagine being him and settling down to watch the football beside Joe and knowing what he likely remembers whenever he looks at you. Honestly, I don’t see that being a healthy path to recovery for him either.

Or OK. Maybe they don’t put on an act. They  keep spending time with him, but they don’t try to hide the nightmares and the flashbacks or the way their smiles drop whenever he comes into the room. Maybe they flinch whenever he gets too close and sometimes they yell at him but they all have to put that on hold every time there’s a mission and somehow they also they try to be his therapists?

I don’t know, it sounds a lot kinder to everyone to just get some fucking space.

Not hanging out with someone who gravely hurt you isn’t punishment, it’s basic boundaries and self-care for you and I’m beginning to worry about what it means that many of you don’t seem to know that.

[16woodsequ]

Can I have some more Steve headcannons please?

Okay! *rubs hands together* Today is a kind of ‘meh’ day for me, so Imma hype myself up with some headcanons ^^

Previous headcanon post, and second one.

TW: discussion of PTSD and panic attacks, and just general angst

Alright *checks notes* first headcanon:

Steve knew about the bugs that SHIELD had in his apartment before Fury told him.

I really like this headcanon, and I put it everywhere. But basically, I think that Steve is smart and observant enough to have found the bugs that SHIELD put into his apartment. 

So why would he leave them there? That feeds into another headcanon that I sort of mentioned before, that Steve likes to underestimated. Obviously, SHIELD thought that he either wouldn’t suspect them to bug his home, or he wouldn’t be tech-savvy enough to find the devices. I think Steve wanted to keep it that way. If he removed the bugs, then SHIELD would know he found them, and would react accordingly.

I think Steve would decide it was better to know where the bugs are, rather than remove them and risk having SHIELD put more in that he can’t find. Also, if SHIELD thinks that he doesn’t suspect anything, then they will think whatever they get from his apartment is genuine.

Usually in my mind, SHIELD only implants audio bugs, instead of visual, and they leave his bathroom without bugs.

This is important cuz, for extra angst, now we get to imagine Steve trying to manage his PTSD in an apartment that he knows is bugged. 

As you might know with my ‘SHIELD’s A+ Parenting’ headcanon, I fully think Hydra was willing to let Steve struggle with his PTSD, and I doubt they would have done anything if/when they learned about it... but Steve doesn’t know that. So now we have Steve trying to cover for his PTSD in his own home, and the only respite his has is maybe the bathroom.

With audio feeds only at least, he only has to worry about not making a lot of noise during his flashbacks/nightmares etc, but that is still a lot of pressure. (And don’t imagine Steve curled up and panicking on the floor of his bathroom, cuz that’ll just make you sad).

More SHIELD A+ Parenting/ Hydra is terrible

Going along with Hydra-being-inside-SHIELD-didn’t-help-Steve’s-PTSD: If SHIELD gave Steve some kind of counsellor or psychologist after he woke up from the ice, then I headcanon it was a Hydra agent.

That is terrible for several reasons. For one, Steve’s first experience with modern psychology would be with someone - unbeknownst to him - who did not actually want the best for his wellbeing.

Second, and going along with that, if his Hydra-therapist were to be less helpful than would be ideal, Steve wouldn’t know the difference really, and the people at SHIELD would not suspect that there was a problem. They would think he was getting psychological help, when in reality, he was getting anything but.

This would explain why SHIELD dropped the ball so hard with Steve.

Third, after SHIELD, I imagine Steve would be reluctant to get actual help. At some point he is going to have to learn what actual therapy is like. And, maybe, when Natasha puts all of SHIELD’s records onto the internet, he finally learns the his original psychologist was Hydra. That would be extremely violating, and I imagine it would take him a long time afterwards to trust going to a therapist at all— even with encouragement from Sam.  

Final headcanon for the day, and going along with the terrible Hydra psychologist: Hydra and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Cabin

This one gets my blood boiling because it is actually canon that SHIELD (/Hydra), sent Steve to “The Retreat” at some point after he woke up from the ice. (This is mentioned in Agents of SHIELD, not in the movies.)

What is The Retreat you asks? Here is the wiki on it, here is the gist:

This safe house retreat is a log cabin that is lined with the same vibranium alloy that is used in "The Cage" on the Bus. The S.H.I.E.L.D. battering ram took a long time to penetrate the door, even though it took very short for them to penetrate the highly armored SUV of Nick Fury. The kitchen was fully equipped with a fridge, sink, and microwave. The living room has a few couches, however, they are very uncomfortable. There is a computer in one corner. A laser fence also lines the perimeter of the property, keeping everything inside contained. Security cameras show everything that happens along the area.

 So. A cabin in the middle of nowhere, with security cameras everywhere, and a laser fence around the perimeter.

In other words. A very fancy cell.

*unidentifiable sounds of rage*

Okay. *breathes*. So. We don’t know when, or how long Steve stayed at the cabin (Coulson said ‘after he was defrosted’ and ‘a few weeks’), but, as you can imagine, I have headcanons about those.

Usually I headcanon that Steve is at the cabin for about two weeks, and that SHIELD/Hydra sold it to him as ‘a quiet place were he can catch up on what he missed’. Meaning that they left him there with all the files of the history he missed and told him he could leave once he was finished going through them.

I imagine his (hydra) therapist told him that in order to pass his psych exam for SHIELD, he would need to go to The Retreat. Which is wonderfully manipulative, because it would force Steve to go through all those (probably traumatic) files all by himself if he wants to a) leave the cabin, and b) work for SHIELD (and you can bet that his hydra-therapist made it seem unlikely that he would be able to manage working anywhere else in the 21st century.)

Now, headcanons as to when he did this. I have two separate versions that live side-by-side in my head:

One: SHIELD did this to him before the Battle of New York. 

This is just sad because it would mean that Steve spent two+ weeks isolated and alone, reading up on everything he missed, but not really being able to learn about and experience the world he woke up in, before suddenly having to fight aliens and meet his dead-friend’s son (who is 15 years older than him) shortly after finally getting out. 

If you want a reason for Steve being high-strung in Avengers, and doing his utmost not to show his PTSD because then he might get sent back to the cabin? Then there you go.

Two: SHIELD sent him to the cabin after the Battle of New York. 

I don’t know why, but unlike a lot of people, at the end of Avengers, I didn’t assume that Steve was driving off on his motorcycle to ‘see the world’ or whatever. I instinctively interpreted it as him just driving back to his apartment.

So, if we decide that Steve decides he wants to join SHIELD at the end of Avengers, then that is when SHIELD/Hydra might decide to send him to the cabin.

Which is just great cuz I’m sure fighting aliens and watching people die only a short while after waking up from the ice was just great for Steve and he didn’t need any support or anything during that time. Nah. Isolate him alone in a cabin. Should be fine. 

If you want a reason for Steve distrusting therapists and never wanting to admit having problems because he thinks that basically institutionalizing people is still a legitimate technique? There you go.

One day I will write a fic about this bloody cabin, but I haven’t yet.  

So yeah. SHIELD/Hydra sucks. And Steve suffered for it.

Apparently we got really angsty headcanons today, but they were fun to share! I hope you enjoyed, and if you want more headcanons let me know! 

Headcanon masterpost

[oflosechesters]

for anyone curious, the following meta and the elaboration below are in relation to this post. i posted this to another blog of mine, but i felt i should share it on my personal as well.

okay, i actually genuinely don’t wanna shut up about the significance of miracle because it’s possibly one of the most redeemable qualities of the spn finale. it’s actually really important, even if you don’t like the circumstances surrounding it.

at first i just sort of went off about it in some tags:

#this is the only good thing about that entire finale #it is the one thing i actually loved from a meta perspective in terms of dean's archetype #so i gotta have the puppy snuggles on the blog i'm so sorry #other than that this is largely a finale free blog lmao #i actually have a Lot of feelings about dean being given a dog #and naming the dog miracle #am i gonna end up writing meta about a dog? possibly #in broad strokes: dean has always been the archetype of a soldier #but never once has he been allowed to be a veteran #the dog very much is representative of that #it's very commonplace for veterans to have emotional support animals #dogs in particular #the way miracle launches into dean's arms after dean's just woken up is indicative to me that it's commonplace #likely after nightmares #which means that (for me) dean's PTSD is being subtly addressed #which means when i retcon the disaster of a finale for my portrayal miracle is absolutely staying #spn 15.20

but there’s so much more to it than that. 

the thing about the dog, if we’re staying within the context of the canon, is that this is a dean who has lost everything (keep that wording in mind, because we’ll be coming back to it). the war is won, and he's come home, but the cost was high. we also know that dean has canonically suffered from PTSD since the end of s3, though it’s not always been explicitly addressed in the following seasons. regardless, it's an aspect of his character that is widely established and recognized.

much like in s4, and after the purgatory storyline in s8, dean’s PTSD is shown to manifest itself largely through substance abuse, anger management struggles resulting in bouts of extreme violence, and nightmares. it’s a thread throughout the narrative whether it’s consistently addressed or not. more importantly in terms of the dog: dean is never allowed to heal, because the war wages on.

by the series finale, the war is won, but the cost is castiel’s life. what does the dog have to do with castiel, you ask? more than you might first think. i don’t want to get too deep in the paint, so i’m going to focus primarily on 13.01, dean’s grief arc in early s13 in general, and some key aspects of s15.

returning to the concept of being left with a dean who has lost everything, i want to point out a choice of dialogue in 13.01. the following is said during a scene of mourning, after they’ve lost castiel, and dean is left to wrap his body for burial.

dean [voice breaking]: we’ve lost everything. and now you’re gonna bring him back. okay? you’re gonna bring back cas.

this scene is the beginning of a several episode long grief arc where dean is depicted classically as a mourning widower in terms of cinematography (viewed on bended knee from above, distant and distraught after the death scene itself at the end of s12), and is then shown to slip into apathetic suicidal tendencies. his substance abuse reaches such a low that he quite literally drinks himself to death, but death will not take him, despite his wishes. he rages at sam for being able to move on so easily, in 13.03, patience:

dean: and what about cas? sam: what about cas? dean: he manipulated him, he made him promises, said, “paradise on earth” and cas bought it. and you know what that got him? it got him dead! now you might be able to forget about that, but i can’t!

the grief arc firmly establishes castiel as being representative of dean winchester’s hope, and the will to live. this is reinforced throughout s13 – s15, as it is further mirrored in later episodes, such as in act 3 of 15.09, the trap, in which sam is shown alternate futures. in every future where dean has lost castiel, he is shown to have lost his hope, and his will to continue on.

dean: no, sam. it doesn't matter. sam: what are you saying? dean: what i've been trying to say for months. it's time... time to stand down. sam: you want to quit? what's happened to you, dean? ever since— dean: ever since what? we lost pretty much everyone we’ve ever cared about? ever since the mark made cas go crazy? ever since i had to bury him in a ma’lak box? ever since then?

these follow an old tradition within the writing of spn that can be pointed at as early as 5.04, the end (“cas, too?”): castiel is always singled out apart from the rest. castiel, an angel, who saw worth in dean when dean couldn’t see it in himself. an angel who became his best friend, and loved him when dean couldn’t love himself. castiel, who saved him the moment they met, and saved him in death, as seen in 15.18, despair. given everything preceding this, it’s evident that this is not a small loss for dean. when they lose cas, dean loses the will to go on.

in losing cas that final time, cas’ confession — his assertion that dean is full of love, not anger — finally seems to break through. when fighting the main antagonist of s15, he is called “the ultimate killer.” at one time, dean would’ve agreed with this. but after cas’ confession, he denies it, and firmly says, “that's not who i am.” because that’s not who cas fell in love with. point being: castiel’s sacrifice affects dean enormously.

at the end of all things, when dean crosses the threshold from soldier to veteran because the war is won, he has a dog and he names him miracle; which harkens back to a scene when dean indirectly referred to cas as ‘his miracle,’ because truly: who’s been performing miracles in dean’s life over the past 11 seasons? the name holds a heavy weight and bears a large significance in the face of his loss.

by the end of s15, we now have a dean that is allowed to rest, and in resting, he is allowed to begin to heal. and the thing that is representative of this crossing of the threshold from soldier to veteran is giving the veteran an emotional support dog. that dean names miracle. something that is saving him, day by day, even in small ways. it’s just not only important for dean's development and healing after finally making that transition, it’s also the lasting influence castiel still has, even in death. it’s absolutely heartbreaking, especially when one considers how many of dean’s nightmares, stemming from his PTSD, canonically revolve around losing castiel — as is shown in early s8 through the purgatory storyline; therefore it is not incongruous to assume similar nightmares would crop up after the events of 15.18. and we’re shown this.

the dog jumping into bed for cuddles after dean wakes up is just so telling. but the way dean wraps around the dog, clinging? it’s the most telling.

granted, there is every possibility that i am giving the show too much credit (as it’s been shown we, as fans, are wont to do). but the concept of death of the author was quite literally pushed into the narrative of s15, and i personally like to think that no matter what else happened in 15.20, certain things remain significant and have bearing on the story, even if unintentionally so. that’s sort of just always been spn’s way of doing things.

[oof-big-oof]

ACOTAR and Setups Part II: Tamlin and Rhysand

SPOILERS: ACOTAR series (and Macbeth too ig)

Part 1: Feyre

In "Macbeth", Macbeth and Banquo are narrative foils to each other. While Banquo is loyal to the king and uses language of growth and imagery of nature when he speaks, the traitor Macbeth's words are full of references to destruction, fire, and unholy happenings. Foils are not just good ways to explore character traits, but also excellent for setting up conflicts and exploring the thematic concerns of the world.

I think it's safe to say Tamlin and Rhysand are foils. They have opposing imagery (spring, flowers and sun for Tamlin, winter, snow and night for Rhysand) and always stand in opposition to each other when it comes to Feyre's narrative, switching in and out of being the "bad guy" and the "good guy". But the way this is handled is .... eh.

I'm going to look at shifts in Feyre, Tamlin and Rhys that work of this foil - and try to look for when and how they were set up.

1. Feyre's shift - TW: discussions of abuse, mental health issues

In the first book, Tamlin is a source of protection and love for Feyre. But by the second book, Feyre is not only struggling with her PTSD but has begun to realise that life at the Spring Court as a dolled up accessory might not be for her. By the end of the book, she has found her place in the Night Court - by Rhysand's side. And honestly? Go girl! Go live up to your potential!

The problem arises with how this is done - that is, Sarah J Mass never does the brunt work of showing us why Feyre cares. It is plausible she is motivated by a desire to protect the human lands, but we never actually see that. There isn't a moment where she realises she needs to work for a greater good, or a moment she realises that she needs to protect those more vulnerable than her - instead, the narrative has her tolerating abuse until she finally has had enough.

Which is great. I have got to admit that I really like the explicit rejection of a happily ever after storyline for Feyre because it took away her agency. But we get this radical shift in character motivation from wanting to be protected and comfortable with those she loves to desiring agency and understanding of herself in two lines:

"The girl who had needed to be protected and who had craved stability and comfort... she had died Under the Mountain"

and

"I didn't know how to go back to those things. To being docile"

hhhhhh. I mean - if you have to say it that explicitly, you're already doing something wrong. But also, why? We never see Feyre struggling with herself in her new body, and wondering why she does not want the same things as she did when she was a human, never see an impetus point for when her desires shifted.

But honestly? I don't mind Feyre's arc. I think it's a bit confused and lacks clarity or intent, and as a result, it is harder to root for her because you don't quite know what she wants, but I think it's still quite good. Where I really have problems are with Tamlin ad Rhys.

2. Tamlin - TW: discussions of abuse, mental health issues

I am not a fan of Tamlin's arc. You could argue that it is part of the thematic message of the series: that things are not as they seem. Tamlin is the wolf to the savour to the abuser, Rhysand is the "most beautiful man " Feyre had ever seen to Amarantha's monster to Feyre's eventual mate. But - the constant twists are unnecessary, more importantly, they and have little to no foreshadowing and just seem like retcons- making it seem as if they are there to keep the audience guessing rather than genuine plot progressions. This becomes even more obvious when the series abandons its core theme of "appearance vs reality" altogether, and as a result loses a lot of its cohesion: a direct consequence of having a bad setup.

His reason for doing the abusive things he does is conveyed to us in two lines, in the same monologue that Feyre's motivation is:

"Tamlin had gotten his powers back, had become whole again - become that protector and provider he wished to be"

Sure. He was much more powerful than Feyre when they first met, so I am having a hard time buying it is the return of the powers that his making him act this way. We know that his actions come from a genuine desire to protect Feyre - this is the guy that was willing to sacrifice his life multiple times and the future of his entire court to keep her safe. The only justification we have left then for the way he acts is that his PTSD, borne out of the trauma and torture he underwent and watched Feyre undergo changed him in some way.

This is why the endless villainizing of Tamlin makes me really uncomfortable. While it is true that the abused can become the abuser, and figuring out how to help them while protecting yourself is something that absolutely needs to be discussed and explored - the way it is done with Tamlin is horrendous because he is never given a chance to heal. Instead, he is thrown from plot point to plot point, an eternal punching bag for the Inner Circle and others to seem morally superior in front of.

And his treatment of Feyre is just weird. If he's so concerned about her safety - why does he not wake up when she has nightmares? Is he instead trying to pretend like everything is okay - if so why does he give Feyre an escort of guards? If his core motivation is protecting Feyre at all costs - why does he lash out at her?? And the text really tries to tell us how to feel about him in this regard, but it doesn't do it very well. For example, take the scene where Tamlin says "There is no such thing as a High Lady". Feyre a second before expressed her desire not to take on any responsibility, and Tamlin responded with this - and the text really makes us want to hate him for it, but all you can see is a person who is perhaps not the best at reading subtext trying his best.

In conclusion - Tamlin's shift to the villain of the narrative is hamhanded and underexplained, making it hard to genuinely hate him, and further confusing the narrative.

3. Rhys the foil gets the girl - TW: discussions of abuse, sexual assault mental health issues

Rhysand in the first book is interesting - he clearly has a heart and a soft spot for Feyre but is also a schemer with dubious motives that drugs and sexually harasses Feyre. There are places in the set up where we understand he cares - but never where we can begin to see he might be a genuine paragon of virtue.

And I will address this more in my post on ACOMAF, but the point I am trying to make here is: we are told through the constantly opposing imagery that Rhys and Tamlin are wolds apart - but never actually given examples of how. Rhys is said to be different from Tamlin because he respects Feyre's choice - but he drugs her in a bunch of weird scenes (that serve no clear narrative purpose by the way - like what was he trying to achieve? why he couldn't he just let Feyre in on that part of the plan?) and withholds information from her about life-threatening situations. Rhys is said to pull less rank - but we multiple times see others defer to him, especially in later books, and never actually see rank being enforced in Tamlin's court with his treatment of Lucien (many times described as his partner, and openly questioning him) and later Ianthe. Rhys is said to have less archaic laws in opposition to Tamlin's Tithe - but he abandons the Court of Nightmares to the monsters who rule it, and never takes serious actions against the Illyrian people who clip of women's wings, and a lot of Tamlin's idea of racial superiority and general superiority just come completely out of left field in the middle of ACOMAF.

Both of them are problematic - it's just that the text tells us to root for one, without actually showing us how one is better, or setting up any clear ideological difference between them. And that cheapens Feyre's character shift and lessen the efficacy of the foil - turning it into Feyre hopping from one lover to the other with little to no character consistency and no nuanced exploration of the theme of the series or trauma.

[artsy0wl]

My Son (A New Teen Titans Fic)

So I have a headcanon or two for Joey “Jericho” Wilson. One being that, due to his childhood trauma, he as PTSD. I actually made a series elsewhere where I discuss how each Titan would react to it.

I also had a little fic series planned out about Slade visiting Joey during the night since he couldn’t during the day (due to work and Adeline). It was a 5 + 1, but as it went on, it felt a hit repetative and I really wamted to do the last one where Slade gets caught. By Nightwing of all people. And they decide to have a talk.

It’s a fun little project that I thought ya’ll might enjoy.

It had been two months since Joey had joined the Titans, and two months that Slade had to carefully sneak in to see his son. He had been successful and was thankful that he had not been caught. But that didn't mean he wasn't cautious.

This night was no different. As he sat on the edge of the bed, Slade noted Joey's good health. He was healthy, his weight appeared normal, and he showed no signs of physical damage. Slade was glad that the Titans were treating him well. It was something that he was sure that Adeline made them promise, with Nightwing probably the first to experience her protective rage first hand.

As his father, all that Slade could ask for was his son being in good hands. However, he couldn't entirely bring himself to fully agree with the arrangement. If it were up to him, Joey would be with either parent, preferably both, or on his own. Joey didn't need to get caught up in all this fighting, even if he had a love for helping others.

Slade's train of thought was disrupted as Joey unconsciously flinched. His body twitched in distress as he unconsciously found himself trapped in a nightmare. One hand gently grabbed Joey's arm while the other cupped the side of his face.

"It's okay Joey." Slade comfortably whispered. "Dad's here. Everything's okay now."

Joey seemed to listen to his father as he unconsciously melted in his father's grip. When his breathing regulated and his flinching stopped, Slade adjusted Joey's blanket. Slade let out a deflated sigh.

"How long have you been there?" Slade sighed, knowing that he was being watched.

"Long enough." Nightwing admitted.

"And how long have you known?"

"Two weeks."

Slade rose from his seat to face the young vigilante. He looked at Nightwing, not with anger or resentment, but exhaustion. He didn't want to be caught after such a long record of escaping unseen. Least of all by Nightwing.

"What are you going to do?" Slade inquired. "Arrest me for visiting my son?"

Nightwing sighed, shaking his head. He approached the mercenary, cautiously, but unfazed by his presence. He gave the mercenary an unusually tired grin.

"Would you like a cup of coffee?" Nightwing offered.

Slade shockingly flinched at the offer, eyeing Nightwing curiously. While spontaneous moments of kindness was nothing new for Nightwing, the fact that he was offering one of his sworn advisories coffee was. Nightwing's expression softened slightly, knowing that he had stumped Slade.

"I've been up working on tying a few loose ends for cases back in Gotham and am not going to bed any time soon." Nightwing shrugged his shoulders. "The next person up will be Raven and that's not for another two hours. And Joey not too long after that." He then glanced at Joey. "He'll still be here when we're done if you want to see him."

Slade bounced between Nightwing and his son. Joey was in a deep sleep, which was a good sign. And if he was going to be like that for a few hours, it wouldn't hurt if he stepped away for a moment.

"Why not?" Slade accepted.

A steaming mug of coffee was generously placed in front of Slade, as Dick sat on the other side of the table. Slade took it, gingerly picking it up before taking a sip. Dick's domino mask sat by him, letting Slade know that he wasn't afraid that he saw his true identity. Not that he hadn't already. They sat in silence for a few moments as they scanned each other.

"So, how did you find out?" Slade asked, setting the cup down.

"I guess it started when we initially got Joey situated in the Tower." Dick recalled, taking a bit of coffee before setting it down. "Adeline mentioned that he suffered from chronic nightmares. Mostly resulting from the trauma of losing his voice, your messy divorce, and Grant's death." Dick's coffee cup slightly shifted between his hands. "She also warned us that the events with Terra might add onto that trauma. Her recommendation, if we caught him in the midst of a nightmare, wake him up, talk him through it if need be, and get him back to bed."

"That does sound like her." Slade confirmed.

Slade could picture Adeline given the Titans a list of odd requests and requirements as well as warnings. It was probably for the best considering Joey's traumatic history. However, that didn't entirely answer his question and opened the door for a new one.

"So I'm guessing all of you do this?" Slade assumed.

"Me and Raven mostly." Dick stated. "Beast Boy was a bit untrusting of him after Terra's death." There was a brief pause as they both recalled the initial fallout. "And while he's gotten over it, he's still working on building a good relationship with Joey." Dick moved on to the next member. "Cyborg would, given that he knows a thing or two about trauma, but because of the nature of theirs being a bit different, he's not sure if he's the best candidate. Though he does well for the most part." That only left one other member. "Starfire gets it as well, and while she gets the difference between coping on Tamaran and Earth, he is a little intimidated by her more assertive nature."

Dick look at his cup thinking about their attempt to help. Or at the very least how they were handling it. It wasn't that they weren't trying, it was how familiar they were with Joey's or how they thought they could handle it.

"To actually answer your question though, we started noticing changes after the first month." Dick circled back around. "In that first month, he would wake up petrified almost every other night. He only got three hours of sleep a night in the first week alone." Dick's face twitched at the thought. "We thought part of it was because of the adjustment on top of the nightmares. Then about a month ago, his panic attacks got less frequent. He wasn't waking up as much and was opening up a bit more. Raven and I thought he was getting better. That maybe he was getting used to being here, and the panic attacks were clearing up naturally. We also thought that maybe with him being away from Adaline helped, thinking that her constant presence might have been part of the problem. Two weeks ago, Raven decided to take a step back. She's still open to helping, both as an empath and just wanting to be someone he could confide in. But at that point, she didn't feel the need to constantly gauge his emotions every night."

Dick sipped his coffee, recalling the conversation. He understood her decision. Without any incidents in two weeks, there might not have been a need to have him constantly monitored. Plus, she was starting to look a bit under the weather herself, which wouldn't benefit Joey's psyche, or what was equally as important, her health. As far as Dick was concerned, Raven retiring was probably good for both of their sakes.

"Which left me on and off." Dick continued. "I was up two weeks ago, helping tie up a few loose ends for a case involving Two Face that Robin and I worked on. I was taking a break, so I thought I would check on Joey. I wasn't overly concerned, but I figured why not? I was up so checking on him wasn't going to do any harm. When I turned the camera on, I was startled to find you in the room."

Slade twitched slightly. He vaguely recalled that night. It was ten days after Slade and Beast Boy had a sit down and cleared the air after Terra's death and another two after Slade and Wintergreen returned from a hunting trip that turned into Slade's first real contract after completing Grant's. Slade remembered feeling a paternal needing to see his son. To check on the kid to make sure everything was alright.

"You were sitting on the edge of the bed, much like you were tonight," Dick stated, "and you must have just calmed him down from a nightmare as well given how tightly he was unconsciously holding onto your sleeve."

There was a prolonged sense of silence as they took the time to digest Dick's story. It was detailed, which was a plus. However, it also left Slade with a lingering sense of tension and a need to explain himself.

"I just want to see my son." Slade admitted. "I know my job hasn't made it easy. Even less so, now that Adaline and I have divorced. My family is the one thing that is still important to me. I just wish I had more time with them. That I had done things differently." Slade eyed his coffee. "I miss my kids and I've screwed them both up in equally horrible ways. But for Joey's sake, I want to be in his life. And for my sanity, I have to be. Even if it’s in secret.”

"I understand." Dick replied, to a slightly curious glare. "I mean, as a parent, I don't understand where you're coming from, but as a child who had a parent being gone for periods of time, I understand." Another, slightly confused, glare dug into him. "Just because I grew up in a circus, and close to my parents, doesn't mean my father never spent periods of time away from us. I know two times where that happened. The first when my mother was on maternity leave with me and the second when I got a bad case of pneumonia that landed me in the hospital for a week. In both cases, Haly needed at least one Grayson to keep the show going. So my father had to spend long periods of time perfecting a one man routine." Dick took a sip of coffee. "I might not remember his time away when I was a baby, but I vaguely recall calling out for my father during the worst parts of my pneumonia, only for him not to show. I remember feeling pain from the pneumonia on top of feeling heartbroken when he wasn't there."

It might not have been what Slade wanted to hear, but it was something he didn't mind hearing either. Hearing how the other side fells, helped put things into perspective. Even if that perspective was a little different as far as history.

"You've raised a great kid." Dick complimented, catching Slade off guard a bit. "It's true. I've never met someone as kind hearted and wonderfully talented as he is. He's a wonderful human being. So if there's any positive takeaway from everything your family's been through, it's that."

Slade wasn't sure if he should take the compliment. With everything he's done to his kid, he wasn't sure if he could take credit for it, outside of half his DNA and its side effects. But at the same time, he appreciated Dick at least trying to be somewhat positive about it.

"He's the only good thing we have," Slade admitted, "not that we deserve him. But thank you anyways." Slade gave Dick an intense glare. "And thank you for what you've been doing for him. He needs people like you in his life."

"Of course. I want him to be comfortable."

After another half hour of conversing, Slade finally decided to call it a night. But not without saying goodbye to his son. He and Dick quietly waltz down the hall to Joey's room. Right as Slade was about to open the door when the door slid open on its own. On the other side, a slightly dazed Joey stood in front of them. He jumped in surprise when his sight processed what was in front of him. Which prompted Slade to glare at Dick suspiciously.

"Don't worry bud," Dick comforted, addressing Joey first, "I'm not going to arrest him. He just wanted to see you, but you were asleep. What are you doing up so early?"

"Smelled coffee." Joey signed. "Have to pee."

That was enough to answer Slade's suspicions. He couldn't blame Dick for his son's bladder and he was just as guilty as Dick was for the coffee smell. Turning his full attention back to Joey, Slade tried to think of what to say. Not expecting to get caught, he felt at a loss for words.

Joey tightly latched onto Slade, hugging him to fill his father's lack of response. His face dug into Slade's shoulder and let tears dampen Slade's coarse top. It was clear that Joey needed this almost as much as Slade did. More so even.

After a few moment, Joey gently tapped Slade letting him know he was done. He was released, and took care of any rogue tears.

"I missed you." Joey signed.

"Me too kid." Slade agreed with a soft smile. "I'm sorry I have been a bit neglectful."

"It's okay. I'm just glad you're here now." Joey turned his attention to Dick. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Dick answered, approaching him. "I'm just glad you guys got to see each other."