#and not just focus on the depression or anxiety because that's CLEARLY NOT HELPING

[straycalamities]

back to self-analyzing what the fucks going on in my brainium

[suguru-getos]

fractures // geto suguru x f!reader // chapter 5

masterlist // summary: the reader is depressed as fuck, going through it yall 😔 suguru finally decides to let her go because he could only take in so much without causing irreparable damage to his own mindset about monkeys. // warnings: angst, comfort (yeah geto sama became suguru for a moment), mentions of fucked up mental health.

hurts… hurts when you didn’t go to the invite suguru had for you, to walk with him in the gardens. its embarrassing whatever your condition is right now. forced to sit amongst everyone who loathes you & hates you for lunch. four days… four days are left now. last night had been bearable, you didn’t accept geto’s offer to join him in the gardens for a walk, and didn’t sleep out of the anxiety of him hurting you. hurts… his grip on your psyche hurts.

it seems detrimental to engage in a conversation amongst a group of people who clearly think they’re better than you. hate you just because you’re weak perhaps. before you realize, you’ve ended up gazing and glancing at the plate. tears flowing from your eyes and a weak sniffle escaping you.

mimiko & nanako glanced at the wounded deer they all have kept in their den. you. “she’s crying.” nanako pouts, you look so beautiful to her she wishes she could just be your friend honestly. though, she doesn’t have the guts to confront suguru about it. “sickening…” manami scoffs, looking at you. “stop crying and stop making the lunch unbearable, i can barely stand your monkey stench.”

monkey stench…

you wonder what that even means. suguru, is awfully quiet. he’s just observing you as you desperately try to wipe of your tears. “be grateful you’re given food at all. waste of space and fucking breaths.” manami snarls again, “or should i beat the shit out of you again just like when i did when you tried to slither out like a pest?”

so much hatred… these people held so much hatred it was eating you apart. scatching you, hollowing you to the very core. you don’t want to be hurt anymore. or maybe they better do a good job at it and hurt you enough so your heart stops.

“that’s fine,” suguru hums, “just focus on the lunch manami.” his words sound like an order. something no one can stand against. it was weird, how it somehow helped you feel the slightest of a shield against their sharp jaws.

you could barely finish the lunch, the food’s taste wasn’t the issue exactly. it was the environment. gently leaning the plate away with more than one-third of the food finished, you get up to leave. no one says anything to you. weird… these people feel weird.

another day passes, and suguru’s affect on you has lessened beyond imaginations. he just lets you be. you wonder why is there a change of heart like this. does he plan to kill you directly? why hasn’t he just hurt you like he usually does? neither have his lackeys. it’s eerie, how you sleep on the bed today, just like you did yesterday night & stare at a wall. the dark circles in your eyes have been daunting. you look like a sack of flesh forced to be alive. it’s unbearable. you wish it would stop. you wish your brain would stop it…

desperate- you gasp and get up and off the bed instantly. hands clutching at your scalp and tugging at your hair with a whimper as you scream cry. everything that’s happened to you so far reminds you of the hell you’re forced in. how geto suguru makes you feel, how you immediately wish this was just the biggest nightmare you’ve ever lived.

suguru… can’t sleep either. it’s weird. his mind is just not working how it should. that’s always been the problem with him. he’s always been someone who’s unfit to be a sorcerer. he cares so much. that’s why he couldn’t stand his comrades & his own friends dying because of filthy monkeys who create those very curses. then why is his heart being torn apart brutally at the sounds of you crying. why is he taking a walk right ‘outside’ your door. this makes no sense. why is he being partial to you? to check his resolve, he’s killed seven monkeys today. all those who should have been useful but weren’t. then there’s you, tearing him apart just with the sound of your sniffles. is it because you’re beautiful? no- that’s not it. it’s just because he doesn’t know where to place you in his self righteous scale of morals.

you need a breath of fresh air, and when you lurch forward to your bedroom door and open it, you’re left aghast when you see geto sama standing in front. you lean back a few steps. blinking rapidly to see him clearly with the foggy vision you hold due to your tears. “i- i- wasn’t - i wasn’t trying to run.” you babble, observing him. watching his feet, his face. “please believe me i wasn’t trying to run- i was just trying to have some fresh air.” you explained yourself, sobbing out at the bone chilling fear.

“please please please — “ you fall into your knees at his silence, face covered with both hands as you break down. “please don’t hurt m-“

suguru just looks at you, eyes softening, his own eyes glazed at your torment. his little monkey pet. “i believe you.” he hums, walking towards you and crouching. he doesn’t need to necessarily touch you. but he does anyway. holding the back of your head and forcing you to lean against his chest. soft pats on your head as you cry out. he is silent. saying anything seems insolent. he can’t really do anything but hope you quiet down with that. why is he even doing this… he doesn’t have time to think through it. it’s impossible.

no… you’re changing him. he can’t have you do that. you can’t change him. that’s impossible. he has a goal to meet. he has to erradicate all the monkeys in this world to make sure sorcerers can live freely. he can’t be sympathetic for a fucking monkey—

“i’ll let you go tomorrow.” he hums, and your eyes widened, what is he even saying? “your parents will give the money within three says, i can’t stand you crying out everyday like a bad omen in my own house.” he hums, watching your facial expressions change to one of pure shock. “you understand? now don’t make me change my decision by crying anymore.”

you desperately nodded, wiping your tears over and over and over like a traumatized child. it is heart breaking really… maybe when he’s without you, and away from you, he would get back the losing and faint sight of his goal.

the next morning, you wake up, groggy as ever. whatever happened last night seems like a fever dream. you don’t even have the energy to think it was reality. maybe geto was tired of you crying and screaming & wanted to shut you up temporarily. yeah, that’s what it seems like at the end of the day. you drag yourself to the bathroom, and take a shower. thoughts jumbled up in the brimming brain fog. you’re tired, your mind & body are unable to keep up with the rapid anxiety you have burning within you.

“good morning.” you blink when you hear geto’s voice while combing through your hair. “morning.” you respond, gazing at him through the mirror. “let’s go.” he raises a brow, watching you, scanning you. maybe you will smile…

maybe… he will see you smile for the first time ever. he’s spend a few hours yesterday night trying to imagine how pretty you would look when you’re smiling brightly. when your lips curl up… do you smile with your eyes? would they squint up? how would you look? he can’t wait but want to see you blossom like that. pathetic really.

“yeah.” there is no response apart from that. you’re dreading this. you don’t know if you would be able to survive when you’re out of here. the fear that’s been instilled inside you wouldn’t just go away like that. as heartbreaking as it is, your body has given up for now.

and that’s exactly what happens. everything passes in a haze. the echoes of multiple footsteps as you walk to the estate gate & sit in the car, eyes fixated at your nails and scratching them up throughout. you don’t register anything until you actually reach home. a faint beep sound is the only thing you hear and the faintest echoes of your parents crying and hugging you. your friends visiting you in the coming next few days and weeks. everything is nothing but a faint echo. you feel like you’re drifting apart, losing a sense of reality. you don’t remember how long it has been since you’ve been back. or if your parents gave suguru the money anyway, or if you are still dreaming about this whole thing and stuck in the geto estate. maybe you died when he carved the word “monkey” in your arm and these are the last bits of delusional memories your brain has in store for you before finally pulling you into slumber….

depressed, numb, and done for. you are done for.

[soap-ify]

nsfw , minors dni.

☆ : lonely is a man without love — kyle 'gaz' garrick x reader

kyle's lonely life experiences a change when he moves into a new place — ♡

. . 11.1k words.

tags and cw : neighbors to lovers, angst but LOTS of comfort, hurt/comfort, canon typical violence (briefly mentioned), hush if you see any military inaccuracies, reader is struggling and kyle too, reader is somewhat shy, mentions and descriptions of anxiety and depression, reader is afab and therefore the smut contains afab anatomy but other than that gender neutral terms have been used, smut, p in v, missionary position, fingering, cum eating, body worship i think, LOTS of kisses this man is insane about you, LOTS of consent check-ins because he is amazing, some laughing during sex, use of alcohol, kyle smokes, kissing in the rain.

notes : this is very self-indulgent and probably horribly written i am sorry . . went overboard with the word limit too i didn't think it would be long. this is for the gaz likers, eat your dinner up!

Kyle sometimes felt like he was doomed to be alone forever. So much love floated around him yet not a single bit was directed at him.

It’s a good thing. He would reassure himself. Will help me focus on my work. Though that wouldn’t explain the gnawing feeling in his heart, the loneliness that just spread within him like a virus while he would curl up in his bed, arms wrapped around himself while his fingers would caress his shoulders, pretending that it was someone else.

It wasn’t that he was bad. He was far from it. Handsome with a nice husky voice and a fairly athletic build. Not only that, he had a great personality too — loyal and determined. Still not fucking enough though, it seemed. People did like him, just not in the way his heart desired to be liked. At some points, it was as if no one ever took him seriously, making him feel like the odd one out. The leftover.

Kyle is a sweetheart — heart full of love that was aching to be given to someone, aching to be understood and embraced for once.

A few days ago, Kyle had rented a new apartment on impulse. Not that he regretted it though, it was clearly better than the current apartment he was living in — more spacious and closer to the base.

He was moving in today, cardboard boxes scattered on the floor as he stood in front of the door of his apartment, fiddling with his keys. He was about to open the door when he felt someone tap on his shoulder, causing him to abruptly turn around to face the culprit, senses on alert.

“Sorry!” A warm voice squeaked out, instantly catching Kyle’s attention. It was you, a friendly yet surprised smile adorning your lips as you angled your head to look at him. “Didn’t mean to surprise you.” You laughed sheepishly, fingers fidgeting with the fabric of your shirt as you gestured to the door beside his door. “I’m your neighbor.”

Kyle would relax a bit, her dark eyes flickering towards the door you had gestured at before landing back at you, a soft smile slowly gracing his lips. “Nah, s’fine. Don’t be sorry.” He chuckled warmly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. He was used to being hyper aware all the time due to his work, so that sudden touch on his shoulder had nearly made him have a heart-attack. “...And I’m Kyle.” He added after a while.

Silence would soon take over as you two looked at one another, thinking over what to say next. “Well…” You would trail off, not wanting to disturb this new neighbor of yours any longer. Your eyes would glance down at those plump lips for him for a second before you snapped out of your thoughts, offering him a smile. “I’ll see you around then… Don’t be afraid to ask for anything at all.” You mumbled quickly, feeling like a damn bother already, turning around on your feet before jogging back into your apartment, gently shutting the door behind you.

Kyle would stare at the spot where you stood with a dazed look in his eyes, his lips parted slightly as he let out a shaky breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding until you went away. Fuck, that was awkward, he internally thought, yet unable to shake off this warm feeling that was spreading through his heart. Typical Kyle, always being left shocked and giddy after anyone would show interest in him. You are a weirdo, Garrick.

Now he had another mini goal in his life — to get to know you. You were his neighbor after all so it was only polite for him to at least know you, right? And with that, he resumed moving the packed boxes into his apartment, blood rushing to his cheeks.

The following weeks were very much uneventful — simple greetings exchanged whenever you passed by Kyle, little waves here and there alongside the sweet smiles you would give him that would just melt his heart. Yet still, there wasn’t any real interaction. He didn’t know anything about you, and at this point, he felt like he had read too much into the time he first met you a few weeks ago.

It wasn’t as if he himself was making any effort. He was too caught up in work, coming home late at nights, barely having any time for himself or others.

Tonight was different though. He had come early. Well, not really — it was 11:00 PM, but still earlier than usual though he was just as tired as every time. As he made his way towards the door of his apartment, he felt a familiar figure next to him. You. His head was quick to turn to the side, brown eyes instantly meeting yours as you looked at him as well, the time suddenly slowing down. There you were outside your apartment’s door, in your work clothes and a bit of disheveled appearance, highlighting just how exhausted you were after work. Just like him.

For a moment, you both just stared at each other tiredly before he managed to gather up some courage, his hand holding the door knob. “Drinks?” He asked, internally cringing at how hoarse his voice sounded due to his throat randomly going dry at the sight of you. Though you were quick to nod, causing a familiar warmth to spread in his chest.

That’s how you found yourself in Kyle’s apartment, your eyes taking in the details. It was quite warm and cozy, not overly decorated but having little things like books, certificates and pictures around that made the apartment his.

You settled down on the couch, sinking into the softness while your fingers absent-mindedly played with the sleeve of your shirt, eyes watching Kyle as he came towards you with two bottles of bourbon. “Sorry that I look like a disaster.” You mumbled quietly, earning a soft chuckle from him.

“Nah. You don’t. And even if ya do, I do too. That'd mean we're matching.” He grinned and sat beside you, passing you one bottle of bourbon before opening up his own, taking a swig of it, a soft sigh escaping his lips. He would lean his head back, and you couldn’t help but look at the way the bulge in his throat moved as he gulped down the alcohol.

Kyle looked pretty. He always looked good-looking in your eyes ever since you had first met him, but right now, something made him look even better. Maybe it was the dim yellow light from the lamp on a nearby stand that fell onto his face, creating a soft glow around the face of his shape from the angle you were seated on. His eyes were closed while the bourbon relaxed his nerves, his plump lips parted slightly. You couldn’t help but admire his lashes, the mild stubble that adorned his jaw and the mustache that neatly rested above his upper lips — and that small scar on his cheek, your fingers aching to caress the rough surface. You silently took a sip from your own bourbon bottle, your eyes traveling down to his neck, the sight of skin making your insides feel weird, in a good way. You would soon find yourself in awe of his arms, the way his shirt was rolled up to rest on his elbows, and fuck, those hands. Your throat went dry as you mindlessly stared at the veins on his hand, and those long fingers of his. Get your head out of the gutter, you reminded yourself.

You weren’t usually like this. Yes, you had a fair share of people you have had a crush upon, but they were never a person that you sat with and drank a bourbon with, someone who also happened to be your neighbor. This all felt too weird, too real. It was maybe also the fact that you weren't so used to all this — this level of calmness and almost sickening domesticity. You don't even remember the last time you had let someone see you being vulnerable, open around them or anything. You were mostly alone.

Failing to rip your eyes away from Kyle, you silently continued to stare at him while drinking the bourbon until his eyes fluttered open and met yours, catching you staring at him. Shit. You went still, feeling your blood rush to your cheeks.

He went still too, his brows raising in curiosity and subtle amusement, his lips twitching a bit — as if contemplating on whether to smile or not. Why am I so awkward?, he internally scolded himself, his fingers tightening around the bottle of bourbon.

A part of him felt proud that you found him attractive. He wanted you to find him attractive. He silently took one last swig of the bourbon before putting the bottle aside, turning over to him. His cheeks felt warm, and he didn’t know if it was because of the alcohol or this situation — or both. Sensing your embarrassment, he decided to let this little action of yours slide and change the topic.

“Hey, you wanna hear somethin’ funny?” He asked, his elbow gently nudging your arm. You nodded curiously, fingers tapping against the glass of the bottle.

He would shuffle a bit closer to you, your shoulders brushing against one another. It didn’t feel odd this time, or creepy even — it felt just right. The type of right where the time seemingly slows down and the room grows warmer, the type of right where everything blurs around the person your eyes are focused on — Kyle. The type of right where your breathing gets slower in contentment and tranquility, an odd sense of serenity flowing through your veins, making it impossible for you to not lean into him.

He began talking, his tone not slurred at all but seemingly more confident now, and you couldn’t pinpoint whether it was because of the alcohol or just him warming up to you. He talked about his job, how he was an operator in the Special Forces, not disclosing much more than that because apparently, that information was classified. He subtly talked about some fucked up moments that he had to face, that he found funny even, despite it being somewhat horrific actually.

“There was this one time when I had to rescue a friend of mine. I was in the heli with Nik — he’s a nice man. Anyways, some stuff happened and I slipped off the heli, but hey, I didn’t hit the ground. I was danglin’ by a fuckin' rope, and my cap'n kept tryin’ to talk to me through the earpiece. It was hell, he couldn’t believe it.” Kyle chuckled, voice a bit raspy while his eyes were focused on you, eager to see your reaction.

You would have normally been weirded out by something like that, something that just seemed so dangerous. But the way he had described it, the way he had chuckled even — it made your lips twitch into a bright smile, a soft giggle leaving your lips that soon turned into full blown laughter. “Dangling by a rope?!” You try to mutter in between your laughs, hands clutching your sides as you try to regain your composure. Your reaction made him burst into laughter too, and now you both were just a mess, tearing up. At this point, it didn’t even seem to be about Kyle’s experience anymore. It was a sweet, genuine laugh — evidence of how you had gotten so comfortable with your neighbor, how you had started to feel this odd sense of affection towards him.

Kyle was no better, his heart drumming like crazy against his chest. You are an angel, he internally thought, so enamored by the sound of your laughter. It didn’t matter what you thought of your laughter or how much you tried to keep it quiet, he absolutely loved it. He began feeling that familiar ache in his heart, the emotions that begged to be spilled out, to be directed towards someone, anyone — you. But he was going to hold it in like every time, like all the times he had to keep his emotions bottled up, knowing that they wouldn’t be reciprocated. They never were reciprocated, and it made him into this — a love-starved fool.

The laughter eventually dissolved into muffled giggles and shaky breaths, your hands loosening around your sides while your glassy eyes looked over at Kyle, who was also looking at you. Both of you were panting softly, eyes locked on one another. You could feel your heartbeat picking up its pace, your lips parted slightly while your cheeks were all warm. God, he is gorgeous, you wondered in awe, feeling an oddly fuzzy feeling clouding your brain.

You two were so close, and you could just kiss him. You wanted to. But wouldn’t he find it weird, being kissed by his neighbor? You felt skeptical, but seeing the way his eyes just didn’t seem to move away from yours, you found yourself leaning forward. And he did too. He actually leaned forward!

Closer, and a bit more, and more—

Until his phone rang. Fucking hell. Kyle audibly groaned, looking at you with a collectively embarrassed and apologetic look. You backed away, cheeks burning up while your eyes darted away shyly, nibbling on your bottom lip.

He mumbled something inaudible under his breath, getting up from the couch so he could accept the call, pressing his phone against his ear. “Yes, Cap’n? Yeah… Oh, alright... On Friday? Yeah, okay.” He whispered, soon enough ending the call before turning back to you, clearing his throat sheepishly. “Uh— Sorry. Work call.” He grumbled, brows knitting.

You shook your head, still in a bit of haze after how you almost kissed him. Or maybe you weren’t going to. Maybe you were just overthinking the whole situation, clinging onto some false hope because fuck, your neighbour was gorgeously enticing. You pushed those thoughts away quickly, not willing to fall into another delusion, just like you had with your past crushes. “S’fine, Kyle. Need to go anyway. Too late now.” You mumbled softly, looking over at the watch on your wrist that read 12:45 AM now. You hadn’t realized how much time you had spent with him already. It was as if time seemed to melt away around you, just like the way he seemed to melt your heart.

But there was no time to think about that. You had work tomorrow. It was already too late. Kyle looked over at the clock hung on the wall, a soft sigh leaving his lips before his brown eyes looked back at you. “Thanks for keepin’ me company, mate.” He spoke, internally cringing at calling you ‘mate’ though he didn’t know what else to call you. Love? Sweetie? I will freak her out, he internally thought, you think too much, Garrick.

You made your way towards the front door of his apartment, glancing at him one last time. “Goodnight, Kyle…” You whispered, a soft smile adoring your lips, senses a bit clouded due to the alcohol though you knew that your smile was sincere — full of warmth that you had shown multiple, but managed to seem different when shown to him — more genuine.

When you stepped out into the corridor, your eyes caught a glimpse of his expression, a hint of disappointment and loneliness lingering behind the warm smile he wore on his plump lips. Maybe you were imagining it, maybe your mind was playing tricks on you, but you knew that you wanted to be there for him more and more. He was like a painting, placed in the far corner of the museum where no one would see him, but you were the visitor who had coincidentally stumbled upon the isolated area, now in awe of this painting.

It was just one of those days for you today, brows knitted in frustration as you went over the paperwork of your job, not understanding a single word written there. Maybe it was just the lack of sleep you had gotten the past few days, or the boisterous laugh of your fellow colleagues that roared in the workplace, overstimulating your senses. Or maybe it was your annoying boss, slamming loads and loads of papers on your desk and you just silently accepted them because, well, you couldn’t afford angering your boss. Or maybe it was just Kyle who had been stuck in your brain ever since that little experience you had with him a few days ago.

You didn’t have the luxury of having a pleasant lifestyle. It was monotonous more than anything — most days passed with you absolutely drowning in your work, giving you barely any time to take care of yourself. You were horribly burnt out, exhausted with the same old stuff going on. Maybe that’s why you were so drawn to Kyle in the first place. He was new, fresh like the spring breeze, his smile enough to kindle a strange warmth in your chest.

Whatever it was, you knew that you wanted to get to know him better, even though you weren’t the best at making connections — or even maintaining them. The thought made you wince, mind drifting away from the paperwork.

Your phone hadn’t pinged with a new message for a few days. You knew it, they had grown tired of you. Your friends — everyone. It was your fault, right? It was always your fault. Pushing people away, not letting them see past your mask, to see the real you that yearned to be understood, to fit in. If it weren’t for your depressive episodes, you would still have managed to maintain some relationship. But no. You just had to push them away. Now hopelessly sitting on your bed, dark circles adorning your under eyes while you gazed at your silent phone, a familiar emptiness lingering in your heart that just never seemed to go away. Your room was a mess, neither your body nor mind having any energy to get up. You needed help, you needed someone — anyone. But you didn’t want to be a burden, you didn’t—

You were snapped out of your memories at the sound of the glass shattering and some yells, your head snapping up to see that one of your colleagues had managed to break a glass, now getting yelled by the boss. Fucking great. You bitterly groaned silently, eyes looking over at the clock. Just a few more hours, you could do this.

Once the time was up, you were quick to grab your things and scurry out of the office, too exhausted to deal with anyone. 6:30 PM — you had actually managed to leave early today. You followed along your usual path, taking the crowded bus and then having a small walk along the street until you reached the small apartment complex.

About an hour passed and you had properly freshened up with a nice shower, now cladded in one of your pajamas. The fatigue still lingered in your muscles, refusing to go away. You frowned silently, eyes darting over to the balcony door. Putting on some slippers, you walked over to the balcony door and opened it, stepping into the cool, chilly evening air — the sky having mostly darkened up. You breathed in the fresh air, feeling a sense of ease clouding your senses. Though your moment of peace was interrupted by the smell of cigarettes. Wait, what?

Your head turned to the side, catching the sight of your neighbor on his balcony. Fuck, you had forgotten that your balcony was connected with Kyle’s.

Your brows rose in surprise, eyes carefully looking over at him. He looked, well, like a wreck. You felt your heart sink as you looked at him, taking in his appearance. He wore a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, the hood covering his head up, restricting you from the view of his short curly hair. His eyes looked tired, dark circles visible under his eyes, his brows knitted while his eyes were focused on the sky, gaze distant. A lit cigarette was snug in between his fingers, connecting with his lips as he exhaled some smoke. You wondered what happened, what caused him to look so… dejected. Though you resisted from asking him that directly, not wanting to pry into something you clearly didn’t belong in.

“Smoker?” Your voice cut through the silence, causing him to look over at you in surprise.

Kyle hadn’t expected to see you here. There you were, in your balcony, staring at him with concern that was masked behind nonchalance, though he could easily spot it. “Sometimes.” He replied, voice hoarse as his eyes looked away, staring back at the sky. He wanted to talk to you, had missed you so much, but this really wasn’t the best time. He didn’t mean it, but his voice sounded uncharacteristically annoyed.

You winced at his lack of reaction and the subtle show of annoyance, swallowing the strange lump in your throat as you silently stepped forward, leaning against the barrier of your balconies. “What’s wrong?” You finally decided to hit the sore spot, eyeing the change in his expression.

“Nothing.” He replied gruffly.

“Well there’s clearly something wro—”

“It’s none of your business. You don’t wanna hear it, trust me.”

“You won’t know unless you—”

“I told you, it’s nothing!”

“Stop fucking talking over me!” Your voice raised unintentionally alongside his. For a second, you just stared at him with wife eyes, panting softly as he looked back at you with an equally surprised reaction. This was such a stupid thing to argue on, and for a moment, you thought that maybe he was right. Maybe it really wasn’t any of your business. You were just his neighbor, right? Good job, ruining everything once again, you internally scolded yourself, a groan leaving your lips. If only you could control your goddamn temper.

Kyle was stunned, your voice pulling him out of his depressed haze. He huffed, brows knitting in embarrassment as he walked over to the barrier that separated the balconies, getting in front of you. “Fuck, sorry. It’s just…” He hesitated, taking another drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke aside. “I am tired, y’know. Working’ so hard every day and for what? I got no one to be proud of me. Fuck, even my own cap’n doesn’t give me the validation I want…” His voice cracked at the end, nose scrunching as he looked away, as if ashamed by his own vulnerability.

Fuck, you froze, You knew this feeling too well.

“And now look at me… Talkin’ to my neighbor about it. I am supposed to be protecting people, n-not be the fucking weak one.” He sniffled irritably, forcing out an insincere chuckle. Self deprecating thoughts, typical for Kyle. Though you were clearly unaware of it.

Kyle’s mind was a mess right now. Do better, do better, do better. Ever since he had joined the taskforce, he had this itchy feeling in his heart that urged him to prove himself. To make everyone sure that he was worthy enough to deal with the horrors of the world. But no amount of training or missions gave him the satisfaction he desired. There was always someone better than him. Who even was he anymore? He had molded himself so much for others, and now he couldn’t recognise himself.

You had noticed how Kyle had suddenly gone quiet, the connected balconies now surrounded by a thick layer of silence, sparking a familiar sense of anxiety in you. You wanted to say something to him, something you longed to listen to when you were struggling a few years ago. But what could you even say without properly knowing his situation? You knew nothing about what actually even goes on in his job despite the little things he had told you that wouldn’t really be considered classified.

So you simply reached your hand forward, grabbing his free one. You felt him stiffen up for a split second before relaxing again, his eyes moving back to you. You took this time to silently admire his hands, your fingers lacing with his as your thumb rubbed gently circles on his skin. His hand was so fucking pretty, the type you’d want after a manicure. His nails were nicely cut, and his skin was clean and only mildly callused. You were surprised that his hands weren’t so madly roughened up in the way you would normally expect a soldier to have.

“I have a hand care routine.” Kyle blurted out sheepishly, probably having sensed your fascination. You couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, causing his eyes to soften up. Your laugh. It reminded him of how you gave him company alongside drinking some bourbon a few nights ago. It was his favorite night in his damn life already.

“I don’t know what's going on in your head, Kyle. But…” You trailed off, giving his hands a gentle squeeze while your eyes darted away in an almost shy manner. “You can always rely on me. I swear.”

Kyle could have sworn that he heard his heart explode in his chest.

There was no way you weren't an angel. The familiar painful warmth made its appearance into his heart and this time, he didn’t push it away. He was smitten. You, sweet you. His lovely name. Not emphasis on his yet, because well— yeah.

Kyle had started feeling hopeful all over again, blood rushing to his cheeks and lips parting breathlessly. He didn’t know what exactly he was feeling towards you. Maybe a silly crush like many others wherein his feelings were never reciprocated. But he instantly pushed that thought away. He knew that you were different. Unlike others who had made him into this anxious, perfectionist mess — you didn’t put any burdens on him, simply made him feel safe and seen. Safe. He had never felt safe with any person before, maybe with his task force but that was really different from what he felt right now. He didn’t feel unlovable for once, despite the self-loathing thoughts scratching on the back of his mind, making him struggle to think straight.

He simply wanted to fall in your arms and cry. Cry about how it was just too much for him now, the sheer immorality of his work that he had promised himself that he would face. Cry about how no one ever wanted him, how he was always left out. Cry about being the second option. Cry about feeling like a fucking outsider. Cry about never being perfect. Cry about everything.

He would have actually made his way into your arms if it wasn’t for the little barrier in between your balcony and his. And the barrier between you both — the invisible one. You were still just a neighbor, and maybe a friend. He didn’t want to overthink this, to give himself hope like every time.

Once his cigarette had run out, he sighed softly and kept it tucked in between his fingers, his lips forming a soft smile — the one that you were so familiar with. “You’re a special one, lovie.” He said, before pausing, lips twitching a bit. Going all out now with the nicknames.

Your eyes lightened up under the faint, dim light of the balcony, lips forming a sweetly goofy smile. Lovie. That just sounded so… Kyle. You liked it, this new little change in your relationship. You never let go of his hand, your body pressing up against the barrier of the balconies. “C’mon. Wanna hang out again? My apartment this time.” You offered, gently nudging him.

And oh boy, he was embarrassingly quick to agree.

You had put down fluffy pillows in front of the couch, Kyle seated on them alongside you with your backs pressed against the couch. You had bought a bowl of popcorns, which was now settled in between the little distance you two had. The light from your TV illuminated your face, and he couldn’t help but silently stare at you.

“I’m going to put on a rom-com.” You mumbled softly, hands fiddling with the remote of the TV as you scrolled through the lists of movies, until random on a recently added rom-com movie you don't recall ever watching.

Kyle’s eyes drifted over to the TV screen and then back to you, a cheeky grin soon adorning his lips. ”I feel like this is a trap.” He chuckled under his breath, playfully nudging you with his elbow.

“Oh yeah? Why would it be?” You couldn’t help but giggle, eyes squinting.

“Well, I dunno! Didn’t know that lovie here was into rom-coms.”

“You don’t know much about me then, Kyle.”

The banter between you both went on for a few seconds until the opening credit song of the movie started playing, causing you to immediately hush him, focusing fully onto the movie. Kyle went quiet, pulling the hood of his head, finally. Those short curls of his were visible once again.

He was definitely more relaxed than before. He had even sprayed himself with your perfume so the smell of cigarettes goes away. His mind felt a bit clearer too, albeit a weird dull ache still present in his heart. The usual emptiness, the ache for you. He ignored those feelings for now though, trying to properly focus on the movie.

Easier said than done. You were so close to him, warmth basically radiating off you while your eyes were fixed onto the screen, mouth silently chewing onto the popcorns. He sneakily shuffled a bit closer, his shoulder gently brushing with yours. You didn’t flinch away at all, making his heart warm up even more.

He wanted, no, needed to hold you. His arms were aching to embrace you, and as much as the rational part of his mind would have normally stopped him, this time it didn’t. He gently leaned his head a bit close, lips a few inches away from your ears. “Can I hold you…?” He asked, voice soft and a bit raspy.

Your breath hitched at the sudden proximity, your head tilting to the side to face him, only for your noses to almost be pressed together. Warmth bloomed in your chest and you couldn’t help but nod, lips forming a sweet smile. “Yes…” You whispered. You wouldn’t have let anyone else hold you. You trusted him.

Kyle was overjoyed, but he managed to hide it well. His arms, firm with muscles, slowly around you and scooped you towards him until your back was nicely snuggled into his chest, seated between his legs. You could almost feel his heartbeat against your back — rapid and loud with soft thumps. you found yourself relaxing in his arms, leaning more into him as a soft sigh escaped your lips.

You picked the bowl of popcorns and gently placed it back on your lap, resuming to eat it. Kyle took this time to place his chin on the top of your head, happy that you couldn’t see the absolutely goofy grin that adorned his lips, his heart practically jumping up and down in his chest. He had never felt so connected with someone, your warmth seeping into the sheer loneliness that engulfed his heart. He wasn’t alone.

“Crappy guy.” He commented on the love interest of the female lead, some tall and cold man — very much typical in romance movies. You hummed in agreement, your hand grazing him as he put his hand alongside yours into the bowl, picking up some popcorn.

The movie wasn’t even good at this point. Mostly because all of your mind was solely focused on how nice and warm he felt behind you, making you feel so relaxed. You could basically fall asleep on him if you wanted to, but you restrained yourself mentally, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. What even were the boundaries now?

You closed your eyes momentarily, curling up against him after you put the popcorn bowl aside, your cheek pressed against his neck. “Bored?” He asked quietly, his hand rubbing up and down your arm in a gentle manner, earning a silent nod from you. He sighed softly and nuzzled his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent.

“About earlier…” You trailed off, brows knitting in confusion. What were you doing? It was as if you wanted to comfort him as much as you could, your heart speaking instead of your mind. It was like an itch, one that wouldn’t go away unless you talked to him. You shifted in his arms so you could face him, comfortable in between his legs, not caring about the movie anymore. “I…” You sheepishly cleared your throat, hands hesitantly twitching before grasping onto his shoulders. “I… I was struggling real bad a few years ago. Still am, but… Just wanted to tell you that you aren’t alone…” You nervously looked away, chewing on your bottom lip.

You had never opened up to anyone before. It was basically written all over your face.

Kyle’s brows furrowed momentarily, going quiet after your words. It explained a lot actually, the subtle dark circles under your eyes and the absent-minded fidgeting you always did. Though it wasn’t really noticeable, he noticed. Perks of having a job that required high attention.

“Lovie… You don’t gotta say anythin’ you don’t wanna.” He spoke after a while, his arms tightening around you as he pulled you in just a bit more closer, the tip of his nose almost touching yours. “But thank you… Really. And I am also here for you, always” His voice softened up even more at the end, so quiet and warm.

You scoffed softly, but nodded, your hands shyly caressing up his shoulders, fingers trailing up his neck, face before eventually reaching his scalp. Your fingers soothingly ran through his short, nicely cut hair, a soft sigh escaping your lips. You had been waiting for this. And the way Kyle’s eyes closed relaxed encouraged you even more to gently scratch his scalp.

Kyle leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttered shut and lips parted slightly, relishing your touch. It was achingly comforting, and he could feel the noises in his head becoming inaudible, his heart rate relaxing and his nerves calming down.

You, you, you, you.

That’s what rang in his head, blood rushing to his cheeks and ears as he felt himself get all giddy over his neighbor — sweet neighbor.

The movie was long forgotten in the background, the only trace of it being the muffled sounds and the light from the screen that fell onto you both. Kyle slowly opened his eyes again, his hands reaching up to gently cup your face, fingertips pressing against the back of your ears. His eyes looked all over your face, from the fond look in your eyes to your lips. Lips he wanted to kiss so bad.

“Can I kiss you?”

His own words surprised him, but he didn’t back away. Not now, not ever. He gently pressed his forehead against yours, his breathing syncing with yours as he felt your hands slide down to gently hold onto his shoulders again, your lips forming an adorable smile.

“Yes… Okay.”

He slowly closed the distance between you both, pressing his lips against yours. His lips felt soft, moving with your lips delicatel — a chaste kiss. The kiss didn’t seem inexperienced by any means. He knew what he was doing, holding your face so tenderly in his hands as if you were the most precious thing ever, breath hitching subtly as he parted from the kiss, looking at you with half-open eyes. Holy shit, he actually kissed you. If he were to die this very moment, he would die a happy man.

“Am I going too fast, lovie…?” He asked, his hands slowly easing their way down to your waist, helping you up to sit on his lips before he wrapped his arms around your waist one again, a blissful smile on his lips.

You shook your head lazily, arms wrapping around his neck as you comfortably sat on his lap, blood rushing to your cheeks while your heart thumped fast in your chest. You actually kissed him. “I liked it… You can do more, Kyle.”

God, you were perfect, he thought to himself, brain buzzing with glee while his hands gently caressed your lower back, fingers applying some pressure to your hip bone, earning a relaxed sigh from you. “I told ya I felt like this was going to a trap.” He chuckled in amusement under his breath before pressing his lips against yours once more.

Your mind felt fuzzy as you responded back to his kiss, soft smooching sounds lingering in the air. It felt nice. Too nice. Your brain wanted to somehow disconnect from the feeling of the kiss. Memories of you isolating yourself from everyone made their way into your mind once again like a fly that never went away, scratching at your head. Fuck. What if you pushed him away too? This felt impossibly good, and you didn’t know if you could handle it.

Still, you didn’t pull away from the kiss. You couldn’t. You still wanted this.

You felt his tongue gently caressing your bottom lip, poking it as if requesting entrance. You could almost feel him unable to hold in his grin in the middle of the kiss when you complied, gently parting your lips. He coaxed you closer and closer, the tip of his tongue gently caressing yours. A muffled whimper left your lips as you tightened your fingers around his shoulders, brows furrowing as you tried to keep your mind clear. This time, you properly felt his light stubble and mustache graze against your soft skin, heightening up your senses.

Once the kiss ended, Kyle pressed some more quick pecks on your cheek before burying his face in the crook of your neck, his stubble tickling your skin. You were breathless, clinging onto him tight, not wanting this moment to end at all as you leaned into him, fingernails gently scratching against his nape. “Bloody gorgeous you are…” He croaked out against your neck, gently pressing soft kisses on your skin.

Warmth pooled in your stomach, your hips twitching unconsciously. He was so sickeningly sweet —you felt your heart growing more and more fond of him. Your body shuddered once he began lightly nipping on your skin with his teeth, testing the water and bloody hell, it was working. You didn’t even know you were sensitive in that area until now. “K-Kyle…” His name left your lips in the form of a shaky giggle, a bashful smile playing on your lips as you gently tugged on his hair with his fingers, earning a groan from him.

“Fucking hell, lovie…” He huffed, playfully yet lightly biting on your neck, eliciting a surprised squeak from you.

“Kyle!”

“Hush.” He peppered sweet licks on the place he had given you a bite. He pulled his head back slightly, eyes meeting yours once again.

He could feel the subtle tension in your muscles, the mild hesitation that seemed too familiar to him. Maybe you were scared of this softness just as much as he craved it. It wasn’t a bad kind of scared though, he knew that much.

“I have really bad luck with… all this.” He blurted out after a few seconds of silence, brown eyes fixed on yours, filled with vulnerability that he wasn’t reluctant on showing you anymore. He trusted you anyways. “I dunno, lovie. I have been goin’ on with my life thinking that I was just… not lovable at all. Got sick of being so alone all the time, of being left out a-and—” His voice cracked, his lips quickly pursing shut with a subtle hint of embarrassment. Not now, Garrick.

He cleared his throat, licking his bottom lip that suddenly felt dry. “You are the only one who makes me forget about the emptiness in my heart. I mean it. You are the only one who doesn’t make me feel like a fool, lovie… Ever since I met you, ever since we drank a few nights ago, every greeting of yours every morning— Fuck, makes me so warm.”

This was the real Kyle in front of you. You could finally see him beneath the flesh and bones. His words made your heart ache. Him? Unlovable? He was surrounded by the wrong people then because nothing in him could ever make him unlovable.

“It’s okay. I am also… not very good at all this.” You mumbled, unable to suppress a soft giggle from escaping your lips. Idiots, you both were. “And… don’t think that you are unlovable.”

Kyle nodded and pressed one more quick kiss on your lips, his heart hammering against his chest fast at your words, his hands fiddled with the hem of your pajama shirt, his fingers aching to lift it up. “Can I…?” He asked, his eyes focused on you so intently, as if trying to memorize your very soul.

With a nod from you, he gently eased your shirt off you, sliding it up your head before putting it on the couch behind you. His breath hitched once his eyes landed on your bare torso, lips parted in awe. Pretty. Prettiest.

You looked away in embarrassment, realizing that you weren’t wearing a bra. You didn’t know that someone would be there in the balcony when you had gone out for fresh air — that someone being Kyle. You wanted to say something, but your thoughts were cut off when you felt both of his hands gently caressing your breasts, sizing them up while his fingers dug in your soft flesh, causing your breath to hitch and body to tense up.

“Relax, lovie… Tell me if you don’t want it.” He pressed a kiss on your cheek, smiling warmly at you. Kisses, kisses, kisses — he had given you so many kisses already, made you feel so special. And now this. All the earlier stress from work today, all the bad memories just seemed to wash away as his hands lovingly fondled your breasts.

You took a few deep breaths, feeling your muscles relax. “Okay… Okay.” You nodded, nibbling on your bottom lip as your eyes watched him, his thumbs gently brushing against your nipples that had begun to harden up under the sweet attention that he was giving to your chest. A little squeak left your lips when his thumb pressed against your right nipple gently, your sensitivity causing you to accidentally buck your hips forward.

“Woah there��” He chuckled teasingly, pulling his hands away from your chest before he held onto your hips gently, keeping them still. You grumbled at how he was getting amused at every embarrassing thing your body was doing.

Kyle was truly taking pleasure at the little twitches in your body, and as much as he wanted to take you right this very second, he wanted to be patient, to gently coax you into fully relaxing. Only then was he going to fuck you. He gently lowered his head, ignoring the way his back was leaning forward in a somewhat awkward manner, his lips gently brushing against your right nipple.

“Can I?” He whispered, looking up at you from this angle, watching the way your brows were furrowed and lips were slightly parted, your head nodding too quickly. He slowly latched his mouth to your nipple, his tongue caressing the soft bud with care. You moaned softly, your fingers going to his head once again, clinging onto his hair.

He took his time sucking on both of your nipples, hands never leaving your hips. Each swirl of his tongue around on your sensitive skin caused you to shiver, chest rising and falling with each breath you took. Once your nipples were all wet and swollen, he began peppering gentle kisses on the softness of your breasts before eventually pulling his head back, licking his bottom lip in delight.

“You have no idea what you're doin’ to me, lovie…”

He slowly eased you off his lap before laying you down on the ground, making sure that the fluffy pillows you both were seated on earlier were now resting underneath you. Once he got on top of you, kneeling in between your legs, he slowly began to press soft kisses on your belly, his hands holding onto your hands. He smiled against your skin once he felt your fingers lacing with his, his lips trailing a line of kiss down to your belly button before resting on top of them hem of your pajama trousers.

“Can I, lovie?” He groaned softly while pressing kisses on your waist line, wanting to make sure that you wanted this as much as he did. He was kissing on a particular ticklish spot of yours, causing you to squirm and laugh shyly.

“Fuck— yes. Yes, Kyle…” You whimpered out in between your soft giggles, your fingers slowly leaving him once he pulled his hands back. He slowly tugged your pajamas down, sliding them off your ankles and socks-cladded feet. His eyes fell onto the pair of panties you wore, a wet patch visible on them. His heart bloomed with fondness at how adorable you looked like this, all flushed and squirmy, visibly needy.

His thumb brushed over the wet spot, gently outlining your folds from the fabric of your dampening panties. Your hips twitched, your hands desperately holding onto your breasts since they didn’t know what else to hold onto. His other hand gently fondled your thighs before reaching to slide your panties down, tossing them aside.

“Holy fuck…” He breathed out in awe once his eyes fell onto your glistening cunt. It was so fucking gorgeous, his lips trembling a bit. Fuck, how did he get so lucky? He looked at you to make sure you were okay, noticing how you looked so fuzzy with pleasure, an excited smile adorning your lips.

“Kiss…” You whined out softly, hands reaching forward, aching to hold his face. He chuckled under his breath and nodded, gently leaning down to press his lips against yours while your hands cupped his face, his tongue finding yours. While he kissed you passionately, his fingers reached down to gently caress your wet folds, sliding his fingers up and down your cunt. Your whimpers were sucked in by his mouth, your eyes fluttering shut as your hands held onto his face dearly, your hips bucking forward to somehow get more contact with his hand.

He slowly pulled away from the kiss, his other hand going in between your legs too. His thumb cautiously brushed over your clit, feeling it pulsate and twitch underneath. God, just how needy were you? It was adorable, causing him to smile affectionately, his thumb beginning to rub your clit in circular motions. A breathy moan left your lips, your hand coming to cover your mouth because what if your noises are just so damn annoying to him? But the glare he shot you after that made you uncover your mouth once again. “No need to hold in your noises.” He grumbled softly.

You nodded sheepishly, your body struggling to stay still as his thumb continued to rub your sensitive clit, his finger gently coming to circle your entrance, feeling how warm it was. “Can I push my fingers in?” He asked softly, leaning down to press a peck on your forehead. You nodded, taking a few deep breaths to relax your muscles.

He started with one finger, gently sliding it into your tight entrance with surprising ease, probably due to how wet you were. Your walls tightened around his fingers as he gently began to rub it inside you, his thumb continuing to mindlessly fondle with your clit.

“Mmh… Kyle…” You let out a soft moan, eyes glossy due to how good it felt, your nerves feeling tingly — in a good way.

“Want more?”

“Yes—!”

Kyle slowly eased in another finger inside you, and soon one more. He couldn’t help it, you were being so good for him. He gently began thrusting his three fingers in and out of your tight cunt, stretching you nicely, his thumb never stopping from giving your needy clit some attention.

Your eyes rolled back, lips parted as your hips gently bucked back and forth in sync with his fingers. His fingers were rubbing against the sweet spongy spots inside you, causing your face to contort in pleasure. Even your own fingers couldn’t make you feel so good.

It wasn’t long until you felt your walls tightening up around his fingers, breathing getting shaky as your mind became blurry. “S-So close…! P-Please— Need it, need it.” You mindlessly babbled, almost sobbing out once the wave of pleasure hit you hard, warmth bursting in your stomach as your climax hit you hard, your body squirming. Kyle’s eyes were wide with adoration, his fingers slowly down but never stopping, letting you ride your orgasm out while his eyes looked down at the sweet, sticky white cum on the base of his fingers — your cum.

“Fuck… You are so good f’me, lovie.” He eased his fingers out of your pretty cunt, leaning down to gently kiss your chin, your teary eyes fluttering open to look at him. He smiled at you before gently putting his wet fingers in his mouth, lips nicely closing around his fingers as his tongue licked your cum off them. Your eyes widened in a mixture of surprise, arousal and embarrassment. He was actually licking your cum.

He savored the bittersweet taste before pulling his fingers out of his mouth, grinning cheekily at you. “Tastiest thing I ever tasted.” He commented, earning a gentle swat on his arm from you.

“Cheeky bastard…”

“You know I am.” He cooed before slowly sliding his hoodie off his head, revealing his nicely muscular torso.

You gawked at him, a tiny gasp leaving your lips as your eyes roamed over his upper half, looking at his smooth skin that was adorned with some little scars here and there, a bigger one staring from his waist and probably leading to his back. He's pretty.

He noticed your reaction, the cheeky grin never leaving his lips. He knew that he was good looking enough, and the fact that you find him attractive as well somewhat boosted his confidence even more — in a very good way.

Your hands gently reached up, caressing along the small scars on his shoulders before moving to rest against his muscular chest. “You look nice…” You finally managed to gather some courage to compliment him, all the anxiety just melting from your body. Your thighs were still trembling, the wetness continuing to pool in between your legs. Your eyes looked down, catching a glimpse of light happy trail leading down to his sweatpants and them— Holy fuck. You felt your mouth water once your eyes landed on his sweatpants, a visible erection visible there that you seemingly hadn’t noticed before. Your mind blanked out for a few seconds before you quickly looked back at his face, catching him staring at you with a knowing gaze.

“Do you want me, lovie? Want me in you?” He asked, tone a bit firm yet gentle at the same time — highlighting how he truly cared about you. He didn’t want to fuck you if you didn’t want it. You nibbled on your bottom lip for a few seconds, staring at him with a hazy gaze as you thought over his question.

Did you want him? Oh fuck. So much.

“Yes… But I-I don’t want this to be a one time thing.” You responded in a meek voice, causing his eyes to soften up.

“Trust me. Gonna take ya out on lots of dates after this, I promise.” He whispered, words full of sincerity. With one final kiss on your lips, he slowly tugged his sweatpants down alongside his briefs, not bothering to keep them. He tossed them aside before gently resting back in between your legs.

His cock was so hard, precum already sliding down his length. He was nicely sized with a big length and an even better girth. It would probably destroy you if you weren’t so wet right now.

He paused for a while, brows furrowing as he looked around. “Don’t have a condom, fuck.”

“I’m on pills.” You reassured him. It was true that you were on pills, despite having barely anyone to hook up with. Maybe you were just waiting for someone, someone like him — someone that reminded you of the sunset with how warm they were, somehow who eased the storm inside your head. He was just so perfect in every way, and he didn’t even know it. Fucking evil.

Kyle nodded, gently spreading your legs apart with his hands, his fingers kneading into the soft flesh of your thighs, massaging your muscles. “Gonna fuck you so nicely, lovie. I promise I will.” He said, words dripping with genuine warmth. He slowly pressed the tip of his cock in front of your swollen clit, nudging it — like a kiss. He began rubbing your clit with the tip of his cock, his hand gripping the shaft to keep his throbbing erection still. You let out a breathy sigh, melting into the pillows beneath you while he continued to tease you.

“Kyle, please…” You groaned shyly, voice laced with mild frustration and overwhelming need. You needed him in you, to feel his skin against yours so you could assure him of how lovely and special he truly is — a fucking gem in the rough battleground he had to face so much.

Kyle nodded, eyes glinting at amusement at your pleas as his hands moved up to gently hold onto your waist, aligning his cock in front of your entrance. “Ready?”

With one final nod from you, he gently began pushing the tip of his cock in your tightness, a blissful groan leaving his lips as he wetness engulfed him slowly. He made sure to look at your face for any signs of discomfort from the stretch, because fuck it was a lot. He found none and that was the green light for him to slowly push his cock in, inch by inch, until it was nice and snug in your tight cunt, some of his public hair tickling your skin.

“You okay?” He asked, one hand reaching up to gently brush some of your hair off your forehead which was a bit wet from sweat now, placing a kiss in between your brows while you nodded.

“Mmph—… So good…” You slurred out, feeling so full with his cock all stuffed in you. Your hands made their way to rest on his back as he leaned down on you, your fingers rubbing gently on his nape. “L-Like you a lot, Kyle. Don’t want you to think that you are not loveable… O-Or that you are a fool. You are so perfect in my eyes…” You fumbled on your words in the midst of the pleasurable haze, though your words were as genuine as they could — your heart speaking to him.

Kyle’s heart skipped a beat at your words, his brown eyes softening up. Fuck, you’re just so sweet, filling his empty heart. He smiled to himself and nodded, pressing soft kisses on the tip of your nose, causing you to let out a heartful giggle. He chuckled alongside you, rubbing his nose against yours affectionately before he slowly began to thrust his cock in and out of your tightness, his right hand clasping onto your waist again while his other hand moved in between your legs, thumb resuming to gently play with your sensitive clit.

His thrusts were gentle and paced nicely, not too agonizingly slow and not too fast. This was all to give you pleasure, to show how you had made your way into his heart so easily. He rested his head in the crook of your neck while your fingers gently dug into his back, not too hard to leave any marks. Breathy, blissful moans left your lips while a smile adorned your lips — just refusing to go away.

You could hear his soft groans echoing in your ears, his lips peppering kisses on your earlobe and down your jaw. Your skins were pressed together, making everything so humid as he kept a steady pace, the tip of his cock gently slamming against your cervix, causing your toes to curl up. His girth rubbed against your spongy sweet spots just perfectly, making you literally swoon while your eyes struggled to keep open, mind fogged with this feeling that was making you melt into mush.

“So tight— lovie. So perfect and warm f’me…” He breathed out, thumb sliding up and down your sweet clit as he hips moved alongside yours, skin gently slapping with one another. His musk mixed with yours, alongside the perfume that he had worn earlier, making his head spin.

You couldn’t stop a tear from escaping your eyes, your sniffle catching Kyle’s attention as he pulled his head back from your neck to look at you, your eyes all teary. “Feels too good?” He asked, kissing the tear away as you nodded, whimpering softly as your lips quivered.

“Never felt so good before…”

“Me too.”

A familiar pressure began building up in your lower abdomen once again as he continued playing with your bundle of nerves, cock continuing to thrust in and out of your cunt, balls smacking against your skin. “Close…” You mewled out, the pressure feeling stronger than before as your fingernails dug into his back, your legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him as close as you could, your movement causing the swollen tip of his cock to hit your cervix once again, causing your mind to go all white as your orgasm hit you once again, your body convulsing in pleasure as you cried out meekly, his cock coaxing you to ride your pleasure out while your folds fluttered around him. a white creamy ring made its way on his shaft, which was your doing. Your brain felt so foggy, body lightheaded and relaxed as he pressed soft kisses on your cheeks.

“Good God… Such a perfect thing ya are, cummin’ on my cock. Can I cum in you, lovie?” He grunted, his own orgasm approaching as his thrusts got a bit sloppy from the wet mess you created, his cock throbbing inside your tight walls. You nodded breathlessly and his balls tightened almost immediately, his orgasm hitting him in waves as thick ropes of cum spurted out of his cock, painting your insides white.

He didn’t pull his cock out once his thrusts slowed down before coming to a stop, his hands sliding up to cup your face lovingly, looking at how pretty you looked after being fucked, letting himself relish the way you were wrapped around his cock. An adorable mess actually.

“Kyle…” You shyly smiled at him, eyes half open while your hands moved to hold onto his shoulders, your body feeling so damn sensitive.

After a few more minutes of just basking in your warmth, Kyle slowly pulled his cock out of you, some drops of thick cum sliding down your cunt. It made him want to fuck you again, but he didn’t want to tire you any more than you already were.

“Let’s get you cleaned up…” He slowly got up on his feet and searched for your bathroom in the apartment, coming back after a few minutes with a pair of wet towels. He began cleaning your body, which was still trembling in pleasure — the towel gently gliding against the skin and in between your legs, cautiously cleaning your inner thighs.

“Pillows got dirty.” He cheekily mumbled, causing you to pout and look at him lazily.

“You will clean it… S’your fault.”

“Fine.”

After he was done cleaning you up, he gently eased you up on your feet, leading you into your bedroom, his hands carrying both of your clothes and putting them to the side, tossing the towel in the laundry — already memorizing each corner of your apartment.

He went to the bathroom momentarily to quickly clean himself up before he came back, guiding you to gently lay on your bed, your hand grabbing his wrist. “Stay with me…” You tiredly giggled, mustering up as much strength as you had to pull him on the bed too.

Kyle’s heart almost exploded in his chest at your words, his breath hitching as he looked at you in awe before nodding. Not bothering to wear any clothes, you both slid into the covers, his arms wrapping around you while your head neatly tucked into your neck, one leg hooking around his waist. “Sleep well, lovie… Gonna be here with ya when ya wake up.” He promised, placing a soft kiss on the side of your head as he felt your breathing calming down, your body and mind soon entering a state of peaceful slumber — probably the best sleep you had in months.

You never put a label on your relationship with Gaz. It was definitely not casual — something more for sure, especially with the blossoming feelings in your heart that could be described as nothing but romantic. Love, even. You didn't know what properly being in love felt like, maybe whatever this was that you felt towards him. He had taken you out for a date to an amusement park before he had to go for his deployment. A date. It meant something to both of you, right?

“Only three weeks, lovie. Promise I’ll be back soon.” He said softly while standing in front of your front door as he prepared to leave, reassuring you even though he had spent the whole last weeks cuddling you and trying to tell you that it will be quick. Your eyes were all teary, mind overwhelmed with anxiety because you had no idea how the whole thing even works. You just prayed that he would come back safe.

You nodded at him, handing him a box of cookies you had baked for him after hours of watching tutorials. “For you…” You sheepishly mumbled, wiping the tears that had formed in your eyes.

Kyle gratefully accepted the box before pulling you in a tight hug, smothering your face up with kisses. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Fuck three weeks. It had been five. You had stopped receiving messages from him after the two week mark, and all you felt was nauseous from how anxious you felt, hearing the loud beating of blood in your ears while your stomach uncomfortably twisted.

It wasn't until this morning that Kyle had finally texted you with a “Coming today.” — so painfully dry in comparison to his other messages but you could only rationally conclude that something must have happened in the mission. You were frustrated, yes, but that was just a result of being so overwhelmed for the past five weeks.

It was raining heavily today, the sounds of the rain sliding against the glass of your window alongside the muffled thunder somewhat soothing your nerves.

Though for Kyle, the rain was a mess. His flight had just landed an hour or two ago, and now he was at the base. The traffic was fucking jammed around the area, and his teammates couldn’t give him a ride home too because one of the SUVs had to go for repairing. Just his bloody luck. He didn’t want to keep you waiting anymore, he couldn’t. Not after everything he had gone through in this mission.

Blood was dripping down Kyle’s forehead as he struggled to maintain his vision, hiding behind a wall while gunshots roared behind him. The enemies had outnumbered them badly, and he had to hide here until more of the team arrived.

He didn’t want to die. God, not here, not now. Not after just figuring out so much about himself, not after just meeting you. Oh, you. You were there, waiting in your apartment. And fuck, he was so late. He had said three weeks, but it had been four starting today.

Wasn’t his fault though, even though it felt like one. They had gained new intel on the enemy last minute after what felt like a failed mission, and they knew that they couldn’t leave it.

God, he was terrified. It wasn’t often that he felt true fear. But he felt it now, only because he didn’t want to leave you alone, not at least without telling you how he felt about you. To expressing his undying feelings for you, to—

His thoughts were interrupted by the loud thunderclap, a groan leaving his lips. Slowly but surely, he made up his mind. He was going to run over to the apartment complex. It wasn’t that far away from here and he had enough stamina, plus he didn’t give a fuck about the heavy rain.

With his duffel bag in his hand, he sprinted out of the base, legs carrying him towards the streets. His blue cap was soaking, barely covering his face or providing him some sort of cover as he ran and ran through the slipper pavement, ignoring the ache in his head that was a result from the wound he gad gotten, although not fatal but still painful, a bandage now place on the sidre of his forehead.

Eventually reaching the apartment complex you both lived in, he breathed heavily, standing outside the building, not caring about being all wet. Still, hopefully nothing inside the duffel bag was ruined. He sent you a quick text, asking you to meet him outside.

You had rushed out of the apartment building as soon as you got his text, heart beating fast due to the sudden rush of adrenaline, a jacket hastily put on you while you held an umbrella. Your eyes looked around the foggy street before you spotted him, a big smile coming on your lips.

“Kyle!” You gasped in pure excitement, carefully making your way over to him. Though as soon as he saw you, he dropped his duffel back and rushed over to you, his arms pulling you in fast and tight, causing the umbrella to drop from your hand and fall onto the ground.

“Lovie! G-God, fuck… So sorry for leaving you… So sorry—” His voice cracked as he fumbled out every explanation he could form, his mind already overwhelmed at the sight of you. God, he missed you so much. His arms were wrapped around you tight, facing burying into the crook of your neck, feeling the familiar scent cloud his senses and calm him down.

“Kyle… It’s okay. Hey, s’okay…” You mumbled softly, still a bit confused though he could explain it all later. Right now, all that mattered was him. “We are gettin’ wet, we should— Wait, is that a bandage? Are you ok—”

But before you could finish your sentence, his mouth had already found its way to yours, kissing you gently. Your eyes immediately fluttered shut, your hand reaching up to gently take his cap off his head and hold it as you kissed him back, both of your arms wrapping around his neck while his hands held your waist.

The rain fell on both of you, your clothes clinging to your skin while a cool breeze brushed past you both. But he was already lost in the taste of your lips, and the feel of you in his arms. For the first time, Kyle felt like he was worth something, like he was not alone anymore. That he's loved.

He gently parted from the kiss, whispering gently into your ear, words that made your heart swell up in affection that you didn’t know you were capable of feeling.

“I love you, lovie.”

And God, you loved him too. More than anything.

[ametrictonofaudacity]

Gaps Interlude

Warnings: stalking, implied violence, obsession, manipulation, written through yandere’s pov, delusion.

I’ve decided to do a short interlude for Gaps! All of the interludes will be told from one of the Batfam’s prespective, so enjoy!

Dick meets you in one of Gotham’s many coffee shops in the tourist section. The place is homey and warm, a personal favorite of his since it always seemed to lull Tim into a relaxed enough state that his little brother could be cajoled or bribed into sleeping when he got home, and the people are the same. Which is why you catch his eye so quickly.

You look exhausted. The sort of exhaustion that causes droopy eyes and a tired slump to the shoulders, that made your face seem dull and listless. You were pushing through it, though, staring at the laptop in front of you with a tired focus that reminds him of Tim on the days when his little brother simply had to finish a project. It’s barely even a brief thought, that flickers in the back of his mind.

(Later, Dick will wonder if that thought is what started all of this. Later, he will card his fingers through your hair as you sleep peacefully in your bed, unaware. Later, he will wait as Jason and Bruce bring home his newest sibling.)

But at the time, he doesn’t think much of the concern blooming in his chest. He approaches you, an easy smile on his lips, carefully keeping his body language open, so that he didn’t frighten you.

“Hey. You look a little out of it, everything alright?” He calls gently, and tired eyes glance up at him, lips pulling down into a frown. Now that he was closer, he could see your ragged appearance, more than just the lack of sleep.

Your clothes weren’t threadbare, but they were definitely old, the fabric of the joints stretched and worn. A grey hoodie, jeans, common wear for just about anyone in Gotham. If it wasn’t for the way you were clearly struggling, Dick doesn’t think he would’ve noticed you.

(Later, the thought feels impossible. Of course he’d notice you, you were his little sibling, even if neither of you knew it yet.)

“Oh, um.. working on a paper for my classes. I’m supposed to do an informative paper on how vigilantes have influenced measure of force laws.”

“Are you taking criminal justice? I had to write something similar when I was in college for my degree. Mind if I sit?”

“Nah, sure, go ahead. And no, it was a randomly assigned topic. I think she picked something so specific to see how good our research skills are.”

“Would you like some help?”

The offer surprises you. It surprises him, really. He doesn’t mean to say it, it sort of just slips out, which should alarm him because he hadn’t been this impulsive around new people since he got B’s training. It doesn’t.

You accept, even with your surprise.

And Dick helps you.

He keeps helping you, helping you when you needed to do a paper, when you needed to do just about anything.

(Later, he will continue to help you, even if you think you don’t need his help anymore. That’s okay. You were his little sibling, and he would help you whether you wanted him to or not.)

Over time, he notices things. He doesn’t mean to, he really doesn’t, but there’s only so much you can ignore when you’ve been trained by Batman and been through all the things he has. And it’s not like you do a very good job hiding it.

The first time he visits your apartment, there are meds in your bedside drawer, which is cracked open. He makes a note to read the scripts, later, so at the very least he could help you in the ways you needed him to. He waits until you are out of the room, sliding the drawer open silently, and looking them over. Meds for anxiety, depression, ADHD. A planner full of notes and reminders, a checklist of all the tasks you had to do to take care of yourself.

A journal, hidden in the back.

He slides it into his jacket without a thought, putting all the other items back.

Every word from the journal just makes the overwhelming need to protect you grow. You wrote about your memories, your struggles. You wrote about how hard it was to stay alive and sane in a city that so often turned out criminals and murderers. You wrote about how much it hurt, sometimes, being alone. You wrote about how you couldn’t trust anyone, even though you wanted to.

And you write about Dick.

The first time he sees an entry about him, he feels something curl in his chest, pleased and content. You had called him caring, had called him nice. You had called him sweet. Had admitted to wanting to be able to trust him, to appreciating his calls and his texts and his reminders.

And even Dick can admit that it makes him worse.

He calls you more often, talking about anything and everything. He reminds you to eat, or drink water, and even though you don’t like it, you listen, often complaining you were an adult even as he could hear you filling a glass.

(Later, Dick would look back on it fondly. You’d acted exactly like an irritated little sibling.)

He doesn’t start to follow you until later, and he’s amazed how quickly it becomes routine.

He just.. can’t help it. You’re all alone, in an apartment in Gotham, struggling and on your own. Any instance where a threat gets too close to you, it’s quickly dealt with.

He introduces you to his family. Damian first, of course, because he wouldn’t have it any other way, and it goes amazingly. You’re involved, treating his little brother kindly but without pity, and it makes him so happy to see his little siblings getting along. You tell Damian about a kitten you had, a Maine Coone named Momo, talk to him about past and current pets. By the time the conversation is over, he can tell Damian must adore you as much as him and the thought makes his heart soar.

He introduces you to Bruce, next. His adoptive father takes one look at you and he can practically see the man filling out the adoption appears already. He doesn’t think he expected anything less.

Jason introduces himself by breaking into your apartment, making you food, and having a two hour long conversation with you about literature.

And every sibling that meets you falls in love with you, and every one of them adore you, and it just makes Dick want to take you home even more because they’ve never all agreed on anything but they all agree you should be at home with them.

So when Bruce sends Damian to steal your ID, he doesn’t protest. When Bruce changes your meds from an anti-anxiety med for sleeping to a mild sedative, he says nothing. They had a plan after all. And a part of that plan was to make it so that you wanted to go home with them.

When Jason and Bruce bring you home, slumped in Bruce’s arms as the man watched you with a gentle expression, he can’t help the rush of joy in his heart.

He had never really been a patient guy, anyways.

[saey707]

Hello I love your work and I saw you opened up requests for the Heartsteal boys so I was wondering if I could request a scenario/short with Kayn and a significant other with a self harm problem/tendencies, only if you're comfortable and not too busy of course. Anyway have a good day!

✿ Prompt: Kayn worries about you ✿

♡ champion focus: kayn ♡ tw: self harm ♡ Gender-neutral reader

Author’s Note: Hi there! I hope all is well on your end!! (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ ) Thank you for your request! My inbox is a bit flooded right now from all the Heartsteel requests, so being busy is unavoidable! ૮₍｡´ᴖ ˔ ᴖ`｡₎ა I hope I was able to convey Kayn's love clearly in this one. Hope you enjoy! ଘ(੭´꒳`)°* ੈ‧₊˚

After Kayn discovered you had severe depression and anxiety, his attitude towards you changed. Sure, the witty remarks and the occasional teasing never went away, but Kayn eased up. The last thing he wants to do is make you feel bad if he accidentally says the wrong thing (which he has done on several occasions before finding out...). As a result, he began to speak to you in a gentler tone and would frequently ask you how you were feeling.

Kayn absolutely hates it whenever you're upset. If there is one thing he always wants to assure, it's that you're happy and well.

It can be difficult for him to understand how you're feeling, given he has a... different sort of mental illness. But when he has his rather infrequent outbursts as Rhaast, he understands how isolating mental illness can make a person feel. He doesn't want you to feel that way.

"You didn't... today, did you?" Kayn always beat around the bush with potential trigger words, but that wouldn't stop him from asking, all in an effort to assure you weren't hurting yourself.

"No." You respond quietly, Kayn breathing a sigh of relief. He dropped down on the couch beside you, shutting his eyes as he began to ease against you, leaning on your arm.

"You know I worry about you-" "You shouldn't."

Biting his tongue, Kayn turned to you, confusion written in his expression. In a way, he sometimes didn't understand why you shut him out. And that can be a bit frustrating.

But for you, he was willing to be a bit patient.

"You know you can talk to me, right? We've been together for years now." He pointedly spoke, watching as you hesitated and turned yourself away from him. Your back faced him, and he could do nothing more than stare.

Slowly, he reached forward, pressing his chest against your back, pulling you into his embrace. You looked up at him, watching him pepper your face with kisses. Lowering your head, you turned again, wrapping your arms delicately around him.

"I just want us to be honest with one another." He mumbled against the top of your head. You hum in response, pulling back ever so slightly.

"I did." He was confused with what you just said... Well, until it hit him. His wide eyes softened, watching as you pulled down your sleeve, revealing the freshly bandaged cuts that ran along your inner arm.

You hid these scars and cuts from him. You hid them from everyone. You put them in a place where nobody would be able to see them. Because to you, they became the most personal part of yourself. A piece of your vulnerability and weakness.

But Kayn didn't think it was a weakness. To him, it was a sign of your strength. It was the most personal parts of yourself, revealed to him out of your trust and faith in him.

For that, he couldn't help but love you more. He couldn't help but have a deeper desire to take care of you, and never let you go a day thinking he would betray your trust in him.

Kayn's fingers wrapped around your wrist, slowly lifting your arm to reveal the myriad of scars that littered your arm from the distal portion of your shoulder down to your forearm.

His lips pressed against each one of them, eyes occasionally lingering up to ensure he was permitted to do this. You let him.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, his cheek pressing gently against your forearm.

"Loved."

[seawater-aurelia-writing]

Broken { The Break; Chapter 2}

Pairing(s): Fem!MC/Yuu/Reader x TBD

Summary: MC awakens after her fall but the reactions of others make her spiral worse - but not all is as it seems.

WARNINGS

I am not the best at labeling warnings or triggers but I can say that this story is laden with neglect, self-depreciation, self-neglect, anxiety, possible depression and attempts to justify the above. There could be more labels that I can add but i’m unsure how to word them - so please exercise caution.

I liiiiiiiiiiiive! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ I restarted this SO many times and yet I could never get it to feel...'right'...So I hope this lives up to yall's expectations! Sorry for the bad summary lol

One last disclaimer though! I have not seen the entirety of Chapter 6 and I have avoided pretty much all content for Chapter 7 as far as i'm aware. So I may not have everyone exactly in character in new things were revealed for them.

When M/C awoke, she half expected to be in the infirmary as she was when she was knocked unconscious during the Magift Tournament. But the other half of her? 

She didn’t expect much. Be it the stillness of the void around her, or the library floor if Professor Trein left her where she fell – there wouldn’t be much difference. It's what usually happened anyway; She could handle her injuries herself if that was the case. However, she supposed there was some form of upside to being in the infirmary. 

If she was left in the void, how else would she know firsthand how she burdened and upset those around her.

‘It’s so late…’ She thought to herself, gazing out of the window across from her bed. She could barely make out the faintest shape of the moon – a crescent. Even the moon was smiling at just how pathetic she had to look at this moment.

“-C. M/C!” 

Why was it so hard for her to hear? Even as she turned her head slowly, moving her eyes to gaze up at the headmaster beside her, it was as if someone had placed her in a tub of mud. She moved so slowly, without much feeling other than a sharp pain as she tried to rest the side of her head down onto the pillow.

“…Hng..”

“Thank goodness, you’ve finally awoken! It’s been two days already! What on earth did you drink to cause you to create such an awful mess of the library?! You know very well that you cannot ...poultices as other students do because of ... Furthermore, I believe I ...use it for research not as ...a playground!” He ranted but his voice faded in and out as he spoke. But why? Why can't I hear him?

Only an idiot would zone out at a time like this.

Crowley sighed, clearly exasperated when she didn’t attempt to speak.

‘He hates that he let you stay here. Who can't do simple chores?He wishes he never helped you.’

“Once you are ...leave, you are to clean up ...the library. Luckily, ...the matter with you ...I can see.” He continued after a moment, his arms folding over his chest as he gazed down at her. Slowly, it became easier to focus but the ringing in her ears never  "Actually...Our nurse is ...but I see no reason ...release you myself."

“…Y-yes…sir.” She rasped, voice dry and hoarse from lack of use.How long had she been unconscious? But again, did it truly matter? But what did that matter? Clearly, the pain in her head wasn’t real and not a sign of something worse. Why should she expect something else?

'He wants you gone.'

'You're taking up space.'

'Stop being selfish.'

'Because you think you're worth more than you are.'

Ace, Deuce and Grim came to visit her that day at lunch just before her release but the visit felt hollow. They laughed and teased her for her clumsiness, even Deuce smiling a bit at the dramatics of Grim, but none seemed to notice the forced smile that M/C put on her face. None noticed how her eyes twitched at the sharp, spike of pain that formed when they grew louder. 

‘They’re only here because they’re forced to be. Stop thinking about yourself.’

'Just smile. Don't make a scene.'

When M/C had been released earlier that day, she was urged straight to attend the final class of that day rather than go straight to Ramshackle. 

‘Please let this go by fast…’ She thought to herself, letting Rook lead the way to their class as the pain in her head continued to grow. M/C closed her eyes for a moment, missing the way Rook glanced back at her and shifted his body to walk closer to her. 'Please...'

Yet it did not. 

MC felt as if she was on autopilot as she sat in class, sluggishly marking notes where needed and nodding along with the lecture but nothing seemed to sink in, no matter how many times she willed herself to focus in. Rook would boisterously comment on things, his voice jolting her to the present long enough for her to gaze at him and then the teacher before her focus waned once more.

‘You’re so needy.’ Why couldn’t she just move past her little incident? Everyone else already had moved past it, so it clearly wasn’t very important. She had no right to wish that others worry about her. They had bigger things to worry about, more important things to focus on.

Right?

‘Why can’t you handle this on your own?” Why couldn’t she? It was only one day just like the others! It wasn’t even hard! Ruggie had gone without meals more than she had! So obviously, she was just exaggerating. Vil had more things to worry about than she did including an actual career! What right did she have to complain about doing a few favors?

‘You’re pathetic.’

‘A waste of space.’

‘What good is someone who screws up a simple thing?’

‘No one cares.’

‘You’re replaceable.’

‘Forgettable.’

As class ended, MC prepared for her cycle to begin once more and so it did. Rather than go to  dinner, Kalim latched onto MC the moment she was out of the classroom. The pain in her head returned full force with his boisterous volume right beside her ear but she still smiled. 

He offered to help the next time she went to the library since he knew ladders were tricky. 

‘They aren’t tricky. He’s pitying you’

“Kalim, leave her alone. She needs to rest.” Jamil finally said after a few minutes, his eyes not leaving her  as he spoke. He almost seemed to study her before adding, “She isn’t looking well.”

‘Pathetic.’

“Huh,? Oh right! I’m sorry! Go, go rest up! We can plan a group dinner later!” Kalim practically beamed before ushering her away from the cafeteria despite Grim’s many protests and her own stumbling feet.

“B-But -” 

 But they were already on Main Street by the time MC attempted to speak. Why was she always so hesitant when it came to these things? She barely uttered a word in the entire conversation and despite Jamil’s eyes on her, it was as if she wasn’t really a part of the conversation. Just a figure meant to listen but not contribute. 

Always there but never meant to fully be there.

MC didn’t register her body moving as she went towards the direction of Ramshackle, her form practically shrinking in on itself as they went. Grimm was rambling on and on as he floated beside her, while she let her body guide her on a path she had now memorized. 

“…Just…pathetic…” She mumbled, one hand coming up to grasp at the other elbow. That’s what she was, wasn’t she? She didn’t stand out other than being magicless but even then people seemed to forget. No one cared that she couldn’t magically make a situation better, but they expected her to do it anyway. Just like no one seemed to care about her wellbeing but they expected her to always be okay. Thoughts of Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, and Vil drifted into her mind - how each of them experienced their own breaks during the Overblots, how they opened up about what hurt them, how everyone listened and tried to help them. She thought about how Crowley actually brought in special healers and therapists just for them for weeks after their incidents and how they still have check-ins with him to ensure they’re on the right track. 

Where was that for her? Her body couldn’t produce magic, she couldn’t  Overblot to make others realize how badly she was hurt mentally, physically, emotionally. She couldn’t voice her worries because who would listen? Even when she tried to warn her friends about the smallest of dangers, they simply brushed her off. Her words didn’t matter; so why would her thoughts matter.

‘Is that it?’ She wondered, a sudden cold feeling filling her form. What if she truly was the issue? Why was she so focused on having her thoughts and feelings acknowledged when she knew that all others wanted was for her to help them? They are all more important than her pathetic emotions, right? They have a life and future here in their world and it’s clear she’s just an anomaly who may never return to where she was once from. Was she - overvaluing herself? Was it all-

“It’s your fault, you know!” Grimm yelled suddenly, directly in front of her.

MC stopped suddenly, a cold chill rushing through her body at the words. Her fingernails slowly began digging into her skin as she looked into Grim’s eyes. “W-what?”

“It’s your fault!! You know, I had to do cleaning duty!” He complained, his little paws resting on his hips as he scowled. “I wanted to pick up some of that discount tuna before Ruggie got all of it but I was roped into cleaning! Not to mention those creepy twins came at me about something you forgot! And you forgot the library today! I'm not cleaning that just because you're lazy and took a fall! You’re my henchman, not the other way around! Don’t be selfish! ”

M/C this. M/C that. Clean the weeds. Fetch my things. Deliver this. Talk to this person. Clean this, clean that. Keeping busy, always busy.

'It's for the best. They have other things to focus on-'

She stopped walking, her head hurting more and more, as if a little thing was smashing cauldrons over and over against her brain. Her heart joined the rhymed pounding so hard, she gripped her chest in a vain attempt to calm it.

"Stop-" She gasped but couldn't say more as she stepped back, her throat clenching.

'They are more important. Don't deny it'

'They will never care about you.'

'You don't belong here.'

“I know as the Great Magician that I am, that I need to carry the both of us since you're useless without magic but you need to watch it with the - huh? MC?!” Grimm continued, his tone shifting to something MC didn’t want to hear – something she couldn’t hear.

She backed away, one step and then two before rushing off towards the entrance gates of the College. Not once looking back.

Her surroundings blurred as she ran, not taking into account where she was truly going - just knowing that she had to get away, far away. From the Grim, from all of the others, from Night Raven College, from everything.She just wanted it all to go away!

'Useless.'

'Magicless.'

‘Selfish’

"Stop! Stop it!" She sobbed, her breath catching in her throat. Her chest began to hurt more than her head caused her to stagger in her stride. M/C felt herself tumble down and crash down a slope, the brush scratching her as she went down before she hit something hard and frigid. 

She sobbed as the thoughts continued to repeat in her head; Every overblot, every chore, every demand, every reprimand, every expectation, and every sign of disappointment. Why was she truly like this? She wasn’t good for anything but menial tasks due to her lack of magic and still she can’t do any of that right. 

“Make it stop, make it stop, makeitstop…”

She didn’t know how long she laid there, nor how long she was sobbing, begging and screaming for the pain to go away, for the thoughts to go away. The pain in her head only grew the more she cried, and as it grew  - so did that pain and tightness in her chest.

‘Useless.’

‘Useless!’

‘USELE-’

Until the darkness took her under again.

But unlike before - the chill of the darkness grew stronger and more intense until it was the only thing she was able to feel. Just as the voices were the only thing she was able to hear. Repeating their words over and over, in a hell that she couldn’t wake up from.

After what seems like ages, a gradual warmth began to seep into  the darkness around her. A spreading, far reaching feeling spreading across her body but oddly focused around her back and under her legs. 

‘What is…’ She wondered as another sensation came to her slowly, a rocking kind of motion accompanied by a lightness. It reminded her of the gentle swaying of the waves of Coral Sea but was swiftly ruined by the sound of harsh thunder reigniting the pain in her head. A flash of brilliant light flashed across her eyelids, causing her to whimper.

“Are…-ake, dear?” A familiar, deep voice crooned, not loud enough to hurt her head any further but enough for her to hear it clearly.

‘This voice…I know it…I..Why is he-’

‘You’re wasting his time.’

“Shhh, your heart…racing again. You…it’s Lillia…Focus on my breathing, little one.” Lillia’s voice soothed, as the rocking motion slowed - was she being carried? M/C registered the warmth tightening around her slightly as her breath quickened unintentionally.  “Shhh, focus…. You can do it. Think of nothing else but my voice and deep breaths.”

It took what felt like ages before M/C was able to focus on the steady rise and fall of her head in time with Lillia’s breathing. The ache in her chest lightened but the pain in her head did not, only worsening as she attempted to open her eyes. Another flash of lightning, red eyes and furrowed brows.

“It’s best if your eyes remain closed. The storm will only worsen the pain of your concussion.” Lillia remarked, just before more thunder rumbled. “ You worried us all, dear. Especially dear Malleus.”

“C-concussion? B-but I…don’t have a-” She mumbled, turning her head to hide from the storm before a thought flashed through her mind. “T-The library! I didn’t clean i-”

“You will not be cleaning anything nor doing any chores for the foreseeable future, little one.” Lillia cut her off quickly, his soft voice containing a firmer tone than she was used to hearing. “You are injured and have been pushing yourself too hard. Far harder than you should have.”

‘He knows you can’t do it. That’s why he said that.’

‘He knows you’re pathetic.’

“No, n-no I’m not. It’s fine. If anything I need to push harder, heh.” She forced out a laugh, attempting to lighten the atmosphere but Lillia merely sighed.  “I-It’s nothing really!”

“You’ve barely been eating, little one. Silver told me as such and I witnessed it myself; We were going to ensure you ate this evening but you didn’t show. In addition, you’ve been having more accidents than usual and have been unfocused. You. Are.Exhausted.”

“No, it’s fine. I just, if I just finish this one thing then it’s fine. I-I can clean the library super fast and it’s all okay!” She pressed, fighting the urge to cry once more. Had her screw ups been that apparent? She didn’t mean to; She was doing her best!

“But it’s never just one thing, is it?” M/C faintly registered the sound of his shoes upon cobblestone, were they back on campus?  “After this, then there’s another favor that’s asked of you, another assignment, another mess to clean. But – have you had time for yourself, little one?”

“…I-I do at night I have-“ The words trailed off as she tried to think of something. She did have time to herself at night but it was never for long, especially when her thoughts would become so loud or she would get those odd dreams of things she swears she’s seen but can’t fully remember. 

“But you live with Grim,yes? Who boasts about how tidy you keep your shared room…so I can only wonder how much alone time you get in there at all.” He hummed,and for a brief moment MC felt the brush of something soft and silken brush her face. Lilia seemed to shift slightly, curling into her  before the gently swaying became an airy sensation, like she was adrift but his warmth continued to steady her.

“…”

“And let us not forget that Malleus often takes his nightly walks in your area; Often alongside you, yes?  He’s told us that he’s seen lights on in Ramshackle as late as the early morning hours even after he’s escorted you home.”

“Ramshackle…isn’t my home.” She mumbled, her eyes growing hot and tears welled within. “This isn’t my home, I don’t belong and that’s why this doesn’t matter. I don’t know why you’re wasting your time with me; you have better things-”

“Do you know what’s the scariest thing in the world?”

“Huh?”

Lilia’s voice was low as he continued to speak, “Asking for help. You have to open yourself up and admit to yourself and someone else that you need help. That you need someone there to help you stand until you get your footing once again. There’s not many people who can open themselves up to doing that. Magically inclined or not.”

MC thinks of everyone who asks her for help. “No one seems to have that issue here…”

“They do love to ask you for things but not for those matters that are oh-so  troubling to them. Most would rather keep to themselves and allow their thoughts to consume them before they incite their pleas. Does that sound familiar?”

MC bit her lip, her eyes opening partially as her tears finally began to fall. She vaguely noticed the dim setting around them, but nothing was truly familiar as her tears blurred her sight. “All of you already have so much to worry about and futures to plan and…it’s just…better if I don’t ask.”

“And what, praytell, about your future, little one?” Lilia pressed as MC shakily used her hands to wipe her tears away.

“I…don’t think I have one. I don’t have magic so I can’t really….. I’m a magic-less student in a magically-based academy – how am I even going to use what I’m being taught? I’m just pathetic and worthless-.”

“Enough. I refuse to listen to you slander yourself in such a way, Child of Man.”

MC tensed as Malleus’s voice rang out firm from somewhere in front of Lilia and herself. She slowly parted her fingers, blinking so as to get a clear peek between them but quickly came to wish she hadn’t. She wished she could go back to that unknown area where Lilia had taken her from and just melt there where she wouldn’t have to deal with what was in front of her and the implications it all held.

Standing before her, in the main room of Ramshackle Dorm, were the Dorm Leaders , Grim and Sam with various expressions across their faces. -----------------------------taglist-------------------------------

@mamushroomoracorn | @sailor-pom | @secondb0rn | @honey-deerling-oc | @valerieelizablack | @hanafubukki |@houseoftitans | @butterscotch-babie | @thai | @alextheknight707 | @starshiningsirius | @vanrougette | @valerieelizablack | @cherrysamasama | @over-active-daydreamer | @tanspostsblog | @pineapple-coco | @silvsilvysilver | @diu0sanr | @amoresdarlene | @alankorex | @thehomosexualsupportingcast | @formerstands | @yourunsearc | @twst-rui | @StarryOne23

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: INFP, 25. Feeling pretty lost in life. After a long battle with mental illness (runs in the family, I'm surrounded by people that as of now don't want to go to therapy and keep reliving the same patterns, hurting everyone who hasn't gone through the process I've - THANK GOODNESS - gone through thanks to therapy and medication), I find myself unemployed, without friends, without money, still studying for my degree (I'm almost finished though) and for the first time seeing things so, so clearly.

I wasted most of my teenage years trying to understand what the fuck was going on in my head, battling anorexia, depression and social anxiety - and the latter still has a big impact on the way I speak to people since words don't come to my head, plus depression really wrecked my memory and it can take a whole 20 minutes for me to remember a specific name that I wanted to bring up in a conversation. I feel like I'm cooked.

I don't hate myself nor I feel like I have low self-esteem; actually, I really like who I am when given the time and emotional space to make my true self and inner creativity shine. I think I could give a lot to people but because of a general lack of understanding of common references cause I was detached from everything most of my life and I've missed them all, I tend to be perceived as cringe/weird/naive/childish and none of my conversations are surviving past the first week.

I'm really trying hard to develop my vocabulary, catching up with tv shows characters or even basic history references, but it feels like a huge toll of notions that I can't possibly internalize in such a short amount of time. These people dedicated years (consciously or not) to common knowledge, their family members had culture and raised them to be curious about the world - I'm only now waking up and looking at the world for the first time, with the intention of developing my social and verbal skills.

Basically I need to step up my life and I don't feel like it's working cause everyone can tell I'm so behind and I'm not up their standards - especially in my age range, and considering my economic state. Whenever they ask "what's your job" or "what's your favorite music genre" and I can't really give them an answer to either, I feel ashamed. I know it's not my fault, I had to survive violence and ignorance growing up and I was never given the time to discover who I am or to become a functioning member of society or even feel "safe" enough to try ANYTHING, so yeah, I do have self-compassion, I guess - but others seem like they don't, and I'm so slow when I speak, I'm so slow when I wanna come up with a joke and in a social setting everyone looks at each other like they think I'm stupid.

Is there any advice you can give me? I know I can make it. I am exactly like everyone else, I can develop the same abilities and have a good future. Am I right? Or is this just some lie I'm telling myself? Am I deluded? Will people always look down on me and avoid me altogether?

--------------------

I'm not in a position to tell you that you're lying to yourself; it's something you need to determine through honest self-reflection. There's nothing wrong with talking yourself up in order to motivate yourself to do better. It's also a good thing to try to focus more on the positive aspects of life, especially when you have a history of getting stuck in negativity or narrow-mindedness. This would certainly help you with Ne development, which should be an ongoing project.

As far as I can tell, the root of the problem you're describing isn't psychological but social. Not everything in life is under our control. In fact, studies have consistently revealed that people are far more influenced by their social environment than they care to admit. You don't get to choose which family you're born into. As a child, you have no say in which neighborhood, city, or country you live in. Yet, upbringing, community, and culture are three major factors that influence the trajectory of your life, everyone's life.

If you're unlucky, you grow up experiencing a painful mismatch of personality and environment. And it is down to luck. You shouldn't fault yourself for accidents of birth. And you also can't really fault the "environment" because it's not really a conscious entity that intentionally sets out to harm people. Although the social environment is created by the people comprising it, it's not within any given individual's power to change or control it. This is why, historically, you see people migrate far from home, in search of better environments with better opportunities.

You're young and, because of your upbringing, you didn't really get a chance to participate properly in the world. This means you haven't really experienced firsthand just how big the world can be. There is such a diversity of people, places, and culture in the world, which I take to mean that there's a place for every person. Somewhere in the world, there's a place that will allow you to be your true self. Somewhere in the world, there's a place that will help bring out the best in you and allow you to contribute the best of yourself.

However, that place may or may not be where you were born and raised. When you feel like you don't fit in despite all your best efforts, it might help to ask whether this is really the place you're meant to be and the people you're meant to be associated with...

I've known a lot of immigrants in my lifetime, so I have taken part in many complicated discussions about how to fit in, culturally. Some people find it easier to pick up mainstream culture as they go, looking up references and remembering them as necessary. Some people like to be more prepared and put effort into studying cultural history. I've had a lot of people ask me for help getting to know western culture's most important artists, writers, books, musicians, songs, movies, and tv shows by decade.

It used to be easier to learn cultural knowledge when media was more centralized. Nowadays, people are more siloed, ironically because of social media. Subcultures abound, appearing and disappearing with short-lived social media trends. In today's chaotic media landscape, trying to keep up with the latest cultural trends isn't really worth the energy anymore because collective memory has become so short. What's the point of remembering a meme or viral event when most people will have forgotten it a month later?

What is one to do when faced with this kind of information overload? There are two helpful strategies that go together:

(1) Narrow Your Focus

One reason people are so interested in cultural knowledge is because culture is an important avenue of self-discovery. Have you ever noticed that when they put together a boy/girl band, they find four or five guys/gals with very different and distinct personalities? They're hoping to ensure that teenage listeners will find at least one band member to relate to on a deeper level. It's a way to cover all the bases and maximize the chances of turning someone into a fan. While it sounds like a cynical and calculated ploy, it's actually an important way for teenagers to learn more about their own likes/dislikes, in contrast to others.

One could argue that the reason we have so many genres in music, movies, tv shows, and literature is because of the diversity of human beings. We're all born with a personality that we express in our own unique way, which means we all have a propensity to like and dislike certain things. As much as I've tried to get into death metal, I just can't seem to resonate with it. And there's nothing wrong with that, as long as I'm not out there trying to stop other people from appreciating it. We are all entitled to our personal tastes.

You're hoping that by learning more cultural knowledge, some of those factoids will eventually pay off during a social interaction. But what are the odds that they will? Pretty low because it's too random. Is it really worth the energy spent in remembering all that information only for a small portion of it to come in handy at some random time in the future? Sure, there are people who have a head for remembering trivia, but if you're not one of them, it quickly becomes a waste of energy that could be better spent elsewhere.

But wastefulness aside, cramming yourself full of factoids isn't a good strategy for two reasons. Firstly, when learning is motivated solely by a desire to obtain external rewards (e.g. approval or money), people don't tend to achieve true mastery or genuine appreciation of the subject matter. In other words, it's a shallow way of learning that doesn't help memory retention, as you're finding out. Secondly, doing something just to impress others is basically contorting yourself to conform with other people's expectations. This doesn't help you learn about yourself, quite the opposite, it takes you farther and farther away from yourself, which is why it doesn't feel right.

While we often associate identity formation with adolescence, the fact is that learning about who you really are is a lifelong task. Thus, the question isn't about when you started (early or late), it's more about whether you're using a good approach that actually gets you incrementally closer to the truth of who you really are.

If participation in culture is an important pathway for learning about oneself, what you should be doing is exploring different aspects of culture to learn about potential likes, dislikes, interests, and hobbies. For example, you're not going to know whether you like horror movies until you watch a few. But once you've watched a representative sample of the genre and realize you don't like it, let it go and move onto something else.

It's almost as though you believe you have to know everything so that you can relate to anyone. I don't think this is a good or efficient socializing strategy, unless you love researching and have a great memory. You need to accept the fact that you're not going to be friends with everyone. It's okay that you're more compatible with some people more than others.

To improve your chances of social success, you have to know what you're looking for and how to find it. When you go fishing, you don't just throw a hook in the water and hope for the best, right? You have to use the right kind of bait. In the context of relationships, "bait" refers to the things that attract people to each other. One of the best and fastest ways of connecting with people is through common interests. However, this pathway won't be available to you as long as your interests aren't genuine or you haven't developed them properly.

(2) Prioritize Quality (Over Quantity)

One reason people feel easily inundated with too much information is lack of critical thinking skills. Critical thinking helps you sort through information and evaluate its quality. It's like learning how to quickly spot the rare diamonds amongst the pile of cheap shiny jewels. This also helps with the first point of narrowing your focus.

When you have a better idea of what you like or find intriguing, you open up opportunities to dig deeper and nurture a more sophisticated appreciation of the subject, to refine your tastes. A like/interest (feeling) can be transformed into an edifying intellectual pursuit (skill). But this can only happen if you value learning for its growth potential and not just for the social approval it might bring.

You seem a bit too concerned with how people judge you as a "weirdo". It could be the case that you've met some nasty people. But it could also be the case that you're projecting because you low-key feel ashamed of being "behind" in your development.

There's nothing wrong with being ignorant when it happens through no fault of your own. Nobody comes out of the womb knowing everything and we don't all have equal opportunity to learn what we need to know. It's pointless and illogical to compare yourself to others when you didn't begin life at the same starting line. And being human means having blind spots. Ignorance only becomes problematic when it is willful, that is, a person denies their ignorance and refuses to remedy it with proper learning. Given your motivation to learn, it's clear that you're not stuck in a state of willful ignorance, so there is nothing to feel ashamed about.

On occasion, people come to me asking about a psychology book they've read, only for me to break the bad news to them that it's a terrible book, full of misinformation. Should they then walk away and give up out of embarrassment? I sure hope not. I hope that they would learn to choose their learning resources more carefully.

The trouble with being a newbie is that you don't yet know enough to separate out the good stuff from the junk. To counter this, instead of becoming too reliant on one resource, communicate with a wide variety of people who seem to exhibit more knowledge than you. Eventually, you'll get a better feel for the quality of the knowledge. For example, if most experts are in general agreement, then you've probably stumbled upon trustworthy information. But when nobody can seem to agree on what the "truth" is, then be more careful.

Following from that, instead of slinking away in shame when you're caught not knowing something that seemingly "everybody should know", why not just be honest about not having had the chance to learn and welcome the person to enlighten you? Allow yourself to be humbly schooled. I can't tell you the amount of useful information I've picked up by simply letting people go on and on about their passions and interests.

Doing this could also take a lot of pressure off you, in terms of having the opportunity to: 1) sit back, relax, and listen, 2) learn and absorb information in a more natural setting, and 3) get some valuable tips about which direction to take your learning and where to find quality sources of information to speed up your learning. You might even get inspired to pursue something new and interesting.

The concept of "quality" also applies to people. Every person is a mixture of positive and negative qualities, but some people exhibit more of their negative qualities. When you meet people like that, it is fine to feel repelled and get away from them. But don't then overreact and overgeneralize and believe that everyone is bad.

If the people you're interacting with are truly judgmental jerks, it's better to find out sooner so that you don't end up in a toxic relationship. You truly like yourself? Then wear it proudly. Be open, authentic, and transparent about who you are and the struggles you've been through. Observe how willing people are to accept all of you. This should help you quickly separate out the good from the bad eggs. A good person should be:

empathetic and compassionate

willing to give you the benefit of the doubt

inclined to see and acknowledge the good in you

curious rather than judgmental

sensitive and accommodating, within reason

Every place has its good and bad people, and meeting new people is luck of the draw. When you meet bad people, there's no need to waste time with blame or anger. It's their problem, not yours. Simply walk away and keep looking for good people. And if your social environment isn't overflowing with your kind of people, you might have to migrate to a new and better environment.

Generally speaking, the process of improving yourself and your life goes a lot more smoothly when you know how to tune out noise and keep focused on your main goals.

[scarabsinthestardust]

Tender // Ch. 1

Josh x male OC

I tried to write this in a way that you don't necessarily have to read Better in the Morning if you don't want to, and I suppose you don't, but there are quite a few mentions of things that occurred or that were discussed in BitM. It may make more sense if you start there, but I don't think it's a requirement.

With that being said, this one is not going to be for everyone. Parts of this are going to get VERY dark. Each individual chapter will have its warnings, but I am going to go ahead and disclose that this will include a significant amount of child abuse, and in later chapters, domestic violence, which can be very triggering for some to read. There may also be mentions of religious trauma, something that is particularly difficult for me.

On that note, if you choose to read, I hope you enjoy and thank you for being here. And please forgive me for what's going to transpire.

/////

MASTERLIST

This fic is heavily inspired by music from the Ballroom Thieves. Take a listen on Spotify: Fistfight

word count: 2100+

CHAPTER WARNINGS: language; anxiety; depression; unspecific undiagnosed mental illness; mentions of alcoholism and vehicle accidents; mentions of hospitals; a very tiny mention of sex if you squint

I’ve always hated the rain. I hate soggy clothes and wet socks. I hate the sounds of it beating against the windows like an angry beast trying to gain entry. I hate the booming thunder. I hate the flashes of lightning, especially the burning smells when it strikes something. It keeps me awake, in a constant state of anxiety, preventing any semblance of peace in my rattled mind.

But Josh can sleep right through it.

He’s been my anchor during the storms, keeping me on solid ground. His soft snores, and sometimes not-so-soft ones, give me something other than the rolling thunder to focus on. I listen to his steady breaths and the occasional words he mutters in his sleep.

I never meant to fall in love with him, but like a spell that I cannot break, he pulled me into him. I’m hypnotized. This feeling is foreign to me, the feeling of caring for someone like I do for him. And I don’t think I will ever want to let him go. But eventually, he will inevitably find out who I really am, that I’m not a good person, and he’ll leave. He will find someone better, someone he deserves, and hopefully someone who deserves him. Until then, I will hold onto him as tightly as I can, and just hope I don’t ruin him.

It was months ago when I disclosed to him that I’m an alcoholic, fully expecting him to be revolted and to decide he wasn’t interested anymore, but that’s not what happened. There was pity in his eyes, an inescapable casualty I imagine, but not once did he ever treat me like I was less than a man because of it. When I told him about the accident, I never felt any judgement from him, nor any pressure of guilt, although I didn’t particularly need any help in that department. He told me was proud of me for working so hard at staying sober, but I’m not sure if I really earned that.

I had kept everything to myself for so long. I never even told Kya, my best and only childhood friend. I don’t know why I didn’t; I knew she would never judge me for those decisions I made. And she proved me right when word eventually reached her ears. Josh was so angry at her for bringing the liquor that night. I tried to explain that she didn’t know, but he had convinced himself that she was trying to sabotage me. I was annoyed that he wouldn’t listen to me, but he became so fiercely protective of me that I soon forgot my irritation. No one had ever shown that kind of passion in my defense.

Then Josh’s little brother Sam got into a car accident. It took weeks for him to come back from what seemed like the brink of death. I was with Josh when got the phone call. I clearly remember how he paled when he heard the news, and the heavy sense of impending dread that seemed to hang overhead. He was upset, rightly so, and practically shaking with worry, and fear. I did not want him driving alone, so I tagged along to the hospital.

Why are they always so cold? You would think a warm, cozy atmosphere would be more beneficial to the healing process. Instead, you’re plagued by the fluorescent lights, incessant beeping, and constant poking and prodding. They smell of formaldehyde, reminiscent of sickness and death. It made my skin itch, like hundreds of invisible bugs trying to burrow into me. I hated being there at the hospital, and more often than not I had the urge to leave, but then Josh would lay his head on my shoulder, tears staining his cheeks, and I knew I couldn’t leave him.

Sam was released from the hospital and is okay now, and Josh is finally home getting some much-needed sleep. I assumed he might want to be alone, but he surprised me yet again when he asked me to come over. He asked me to hold him when the events of the last few weeks caught up with him and the dam broke. I couldn’t understand why he was still crying; his brother was home and recovering. The worst was over. Perhaps I couldn’t wrap my head around it because I don’t know what it’s like to love someone on that deep of a level and come so close to losing them. So, I did as he asked, keeping him held to my chest, my arms wrapped tightly around him, until his body gave out from exhaustion, and he slipped into sleep.

It's almost dawn now. I’ve been awake since the rain started. How long has it been… an hour? Two? I tend to lose track of the time quite often. Josh is no longer latched onto me. Instead, he is on his back, arms sprawled out above him and one leg sticking out from under the blanket. I’ve gotten into the habit of watching him while he sleeps, still in a state of utter disbelief that someone like him was ever even remotely interested in me. But he doesn’t know me, not really.

The storm is worsening. The rain is hitting the window so hard I think it might break. I try to focus on the man sleeping next to me as my heart rate quickens. The room is still dark, so all I can see is his silhouette, but I’ve taken the time to memorize him, the shape of his nose, the small scar on his left cheek, the way his eyelashes sit against his skin when he closes his eyes. He’s always so soft and he smells like vanilla. Even after we’ve spent the night tangled up in each other, me buried deep inside of him, both of us covered in the scent of sweat and sex, I can still smell a hint of vanilla. There have been times when I’ve convinced myself this is all a vivid dream, because there’s no way that he’s real.

A particularly loud shock of thunder rings out, and I involuntarily squeeze my eyes shut. Breathe in. Breathe out. I feel myself starting to slip, but I can’t let myself, not here, not where he can see. I’m fighting to pull back and I don’t hear the rustling of the bedding next to me. My eyes shoot open when something softly brushes my cheek.

“Finn? You okay?” Josh’s eyes are on me, still drowsy with sleep, his features painted with concern. It’s daylight. When did that happen? And although the sky is still darkened by storm clouds, I can see his face now. “You were making noises. I think you were having a nightmare.”

Was I? “I’m good. Sorry if I woke you.”

“Not you. The thunder, I think.” He rubs his eyes and scoots closer to me, draping a warm arm across my chest.

The storm raging outside chooses this moment to remind us that it’s still there. Another impossibly loud boom reaches my ears, and despite my pathetic attempt to control myself, I jump at the sound. I expect him to laugh, to poke fun at me for being spooked by something so stupid. He doesn’t. “These Tennessee storms are wild, sometimes.” He nuzzles into the crook of my neck, and I breathe him in. “You ever been in Michigan during a snowstorm?”

“I don’t think I’d want to.”

He chuckled. “I definitely prefer the rain.”

I keep my thoughts on the topic to myself. I envy him for how easily he finds the silver lining in every bad situation. He sees beauty in all things, even where all I can see is destruction, and where all I can feel is hatred, anger, and fear.

It’s not as if I haven’t tried to work on it. I’ve seen therapists, taken medications, prescribed by psychiatrists, and attempted the holistic route with yoga and meditation. When those all failed, I resorted to self-medication. I was never one for how hard drugs made me feel, so I stuck with alcohol. I would have drowned myself in it, with no concern for how it affected those around me. And then everything changed when I saw myself in that little boy that I almost took everything from. I didn’t sleep for days after the accident, and I had nightmares about it for weeks. I saw that little boy in every one of them. I should have died that night; I was sure of it. I was convinced that fate made a mistake. I wanted to fix the mistake, to remove myself from the world that I didn’t deserve to be in, but I was too much of a coward to follow through. And most days, it feels like I’m being punished for it.

I’ve trained myself to be very good at hiding whatever battle I’m waging in my head. If masking was an Olympic sport, I’d be a gold medalist. But every once in a while, I lose my grip on reality and fall back into myself, into the memories of all the things I can’t escape from and that made me what I am today. Josh makes it hard sometimes. He’s just so fucking curious about everything. I know he means well; it’s perfectly normal to want to learn all you can about your partner. But when he pesters me for information I don’t want to share, it makes my blood boil. I bite my tongue, though. And when I meet his big, ‘baby cow eyes,’ I know I can’t stay mad at him. Something about him, something almost magical, draws me back into him and quenches the flames that threaten to burn me alive.

One afternoon during a particularly lazy day, he had planted himself on top of me as I laid stretched out across the couch. He was bored and fidgety, aching to get up and do something. So, he resorted to seeing how much he could annoy me. When I got sick of him poking at my sides and biting me like an angry piranha (he really is so childish sometimes), I abruptly sat up, pushing him backwards and pinning him underneath me on the opposite end of the sofa. It scared me how easy it was to overpower him, but he just laughed. It was all part of the game, and I was still in the running. “Are you finished?” I made sure to hide any sign of real irritation and grinned playfully. I couldn’t stand the look of hurt that would show in his eyes if he thought I was unhappy with him.

His brain jumps between topics and ideas quicker than I can keep up. It always makes me falter when he changes the subject so suddenly. “Why don’t you have an accent?”

“Uh, what kind of accent am I supposed to have?”

“Well, Kya has that southern accent. It gets stronger when she gets mad,” he giggled. Pissing off his twin’s girlfriend seemed to be a favorite hobby of his. “You’re both from the same place, so why don’t you have one, too?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I left West Virginia when I was pretty young. I guess it just didn’t stick.” The truth was that it was intentional. I hated to hear the remnants of that place in my own voice, so I forced myself to break the habits that gave way to the southern drawl. It’s more difficult to keep it on lockdown when I’m intoxicated, though.

I could tell he wanted to say more on the subject but thought better of it, and I was subjected to another sudden change of topic.

I don’t think I’ve ever met someone that talks as much as he does. He’d ramble on about absolutely nothing for days if I let him. He’s loud and has an obnoxious habit of talking over people. He can be immature and stubborn, impossible to deal with once he’s made his mind up about something. And it drives me to want to rip my hair out how nosy he is, always wanting to be in everyone’s business. But on top of all that, he’s intelligent, he’s funny, and oh so sweet. He’s a brilliant ray of light in an otherwise dreary world, and my heart wants to sing for him.

He throws his leg over the top of one of mine, drawing us ever closer. It’s a little too warm under the covers, but I’ll manage. I run my hand through his curls, plush and messy, before placing a kiss on his head. I hear his breath even out and I know he’s fallen back asleep. I start to doze off after him, and I notice the storm seems to have let up, too.

TAGLIST @hollyco @fleetingjake @musicislove3389

[lullabyalikpoptarot]

TXT Ideal Type Reading

Alright, on to my other faves and let's see what I get. I am not expecting it to be light, like what I thought with Enhypen, let's just look at what the energies and cards have to say.

Yeonjun (3 of Wands/Victory) He would like someone who enjoys traveling. He would want someone who is understandable and could accept a long-distance relationship. I wonder if he would want to date a foreigner, or someone who lives in another country? It is like he would enjoy traveling long distance for this person, this is kind of weird, but okay. I see the victory card, and I think win at all costs, what does that mean? He may like a competitive person, someone willing to fight for him. He may like someone who likes a challenge, someone who is successful in their pursuits. He may like someone who will go the distance, someone persistent and resilient. I see him wanting to travel with this person. I am interested to see what type of boyfriend he will be when I do a reading on this part next. Anyway, he wants someone powerful and someone with a winner spirit. I look at the victory card, and this is someone that shines. He would probably like a celebrity, maybe foreign. I wonder if he has a specific celebrity that fits his exact ideal type, or that he really finds attractive.

Soobin (7 of Cups/Anxiety) Honestly, you know what this is telling me, that once again, this boy has his own problems and isn't worried about an ideal type. This seriously just feels like his energy at the moment. Because these two cards together. I would not understand how these could indicate an ideal type. It is like every time I read for him on a topic, it is like, nah focus on me, I got problems, and this isn't one. I can spin this a certain way to try to see how this fits his ideal, but honestly, it isn't on his mind, and I always go with how I feel, so going to leave it like that. I am a bit worried about him, but at the end of the day I can wish him healing and loving energy. I do believe with these cards, it is more about his mindset, than anything else. He seems to be in a fog and may have difficulties getting out of that. His energy just wants to work on his own sh** before focusing on other things, like I am legit thinking of skipping him for the boyfriend reading tbh. Send this boy healing vibes ya'll.

Beomgyu (10 of Swords/Sixth Chakra Archangel Metatron) Ah, the 10 of swords for him again I see. I can see him as liking someone who is able to work through their difficulties and negative thought patterns. He may want someone who can help him work through that as well. He would want someone to bring him peace and clarity to the situation, like he can overwork his mind and go into a negative spiral, lowkey can get depressed at times, he may want someone who can lift him out of that and change his perspective on things. He wants someone who can see things clearly, see all perspectives, just someone with a clear mindset. A person with a sense of knowing. It is like he is so in his head. He wants someone not like that, so he finds it hard to see things clearly or see the positive, so he wants someone to bring that out of him or allow him to see it. I felt like I repeated myself a lot here lol IHe is kind of just focusing on that, like that is important to him right now in a partner.

Taehyun (Knight of Pentacles/The Temple Path) Well this is nice, he wants someone goal oriented, a bit slow paced, takes their time with things, a dependable and loyal partner. Someone who is persistent and consistent. Someone who is able to prevail against the odds. He would want a steadfast person. Had to google that, so if you don't know it means, dutifully firm and unwavering. He would like them to stay on a path of righteousness, not sure what that means, but that is what I got. He likes them to stay on the right path. He would want a person who makes the right decisions for themselves and others. He would want someone who has a purpose in life, who does good for themselves and others. He may want someone a bit more on the spiritual side, but an overall good person. I just think, doesn't everyone want this, but it seems he finds this very important. It is like a person who has a duty to themselves and others.

Hueningkai (The Hierophant/Man Holding Coin) Okay, first off, this gives me he wants a partner to know his relationships are highly controlled and monitored, yes, that came to me first with these two cards, so that is a point of contention for him. That may annoy him, his past partner, caused problems, who knows, but that was my first thought seeing this, so they may need to understand that. I can also see him as wanting a partner he can grow together with and learn from, like being able to blend their ideas together. Honestly, I am trying to get something else out of this, but the Man holding Coin just gives me their creepy CEO, I ain't saying his name, but I don't like him, I don't care how people try to spin he is a good guy narrative, he doesn't give me that at all, it just gives me him, and his controlling nature, and him not being able to date. I can't get around him being watched and controlled to even date. Wtf is this!? Well, his ideal partner needs to be someone who understands that, is all he gives me here, now I can spin this into something, but I can't shake the feeling and always go with how I feel, at the end of the day, this is just Tarot. I try not to overanalyze these things. I don't know if he is more controlled than the others, or if it just annoys him more, not sure why this showed up.

Now I am very interested to see what they get for the boyfriend reading I do for them next weekend.

[bubblegum-glitch]

I Was Gaslighted to Believe My Mental Health Disorders Were Fake

TW: Suicide, alcoholism, mental health, childhood trauma

This post is a bit off topic with the theme of my blog, but it's something I really want to address.

I was about 10 years old when I first started noticing something was wrong with me. This was revealed to me quite recently when I was looking through my mom's collection of my old saved homework assignments. I had written a "biography" and in it I detailed how I was unlovable, and outlined clear indications of depression within it.

No one ever thought to address this with me. No one asked why I felt this way. No one drew any attention to the fact that something was clearly going on inside my head.

Before I continue I would like to preface this blog entry with a reminder that I did not have a bad childhood. Yes there was some emotional trauma that I recognize now that I'm older, but my parents did the best they could with what they knew and are not the villains of this story.

The suffering I did mentally in my teenage years was boiled down to teen angst and hormones, and once again ignored, even when I began self harming. This would, however, result in my first hospital trip regarding my mental health, but only because I had called the police on my drunk father and had to threaten to hurt myself in order to get them to send someone out to help me.

I don't remember what happened at that hospital visit. I've suppressed most of that memory too deep and would prefer not to dig it up for a blog post. I do remember people being disappointed in me and embarrassed that I would dare call the police on a family member. The focus ended up being on the resulting depression my dad was suffering instead of the scars I was now left with.

You see, I wasn't allowed to have emotions that weren't happy. Most importantly, I was absolutely not allowed to be angry about anything. If I felt rage, if I felt sadness, I was expected to put on a happy face and bury all that deep down in the depths of my soul until it all melted away.

It doesn't melt away though. It builds, and builds, and builds, and builds, and builds, until you just can't contain it any longer.

I struggled with suicidal thoughts and tendencies, self harm, depression, and anxiety quietly for many years. Eventually I told my mom about the intense urges that would coax me to hurt myself and the conversation was once again dismissed and forgotten by the following day. I was lead to believe that these thoughts weren't real, that I should push them all down and bury them, and I would feel better by exercising and going out with people more often while pretending nothing was wrong. Spoiler alert, this was not the correct solution.

I had my first total breakdown a few years later around 2014/2015. I was on my way to my new job when I was hit with this wave of absolute despair and hopelessness. It got so bad that I had to crawl into a public washroom at the bus terminal and call my mom to come get me because I couldn't even walk anymore on my own. Despite her insistence that going to the hospital wasn't going to help because all they would do is prescribe me medication (a BIG no-no in my house), she did eventually cave and took me to get some help.

That emergency visit was absolutely useless, however. I was told to read a book on being happy, told to exercise more, and sent home.

So once again it was confirmed to me that there was nothing wrong and I was just being a lazy drama queen.

This would lead to the first time I seriously considered suicide and it was just dumb luck that an interruption stopped me from going ahead with it.

Unfortunately the mess my head was in only began to decline from here. I never wanted to leave the house, I was constantly paranoid that my friends hated me, believed myself to be worthless and a waste of breath, and figured no one would listen to me cries for help because I just wasn't worth saving. My poor mental health was my fault and I was only making it worse by wallowing in a pit of despair that I had dug for myself. If I would just exercise and be more positive I would be all better.

My second suicide attempt occurred after I had moved out of my parents place to live with my partner. That despair had worsened to a point where I couldn't stand it anymore and I walked out into traffic to try and make it stop. Fortunately I was not hit and, upon realizing what I had done, I called a friend to take me to emergency.

This time the doctors listened and got me help. I spent a year in therapy, got a loose diagnosis of PMDD (Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder) from my doctor, and with the encouragement of my partner finally gave in and went on medication to treat my anxiety and depression. I had been resistant of this previously because my mom had led me to believe that long-term medication was poison and only hurt more than it helped.

I'm sorry mom, but fuck you for making me believe that.

After a couple of weeks adjusting to the meds and feeling like nothing was real, the suicidal thoughts went away, the urge to self harm diminished, the weight on my chest lightened, I could think clearly for the first time in my life, I could see the beauty in living...

After 20 years I finally understood what it meant to feel normal.

But the story doesn't end here.

Over the last few months I've noticed my medication has been significantly less effective. It happens, and originally I was just going to ask my doctor to strengthen my prescription, but then my mom said something that sent an intense rage through my soul.

"I've always known you had ADHD but I didn't take you to see a doctor because all they would do is medicate you."

Excuse me?

This epiphany sent me down a rabbit hole of exploring the disorder and when it became obvious to me that she was probably right I began the steps to getting myself a diagnosis, partially for confirmation, but mostly out of spite.

Last weekend the NP diagnosing me stated that while she believes I do probably have ADHD, it's also very clear to her that I have Borderline Personality Disorder, with signs of possible Bipolar. I've now got an appointment with my doctor to get a referral to a psychiatrist to have this officially diagnosed, but dear lord does it all make so much sense now.

Years of blaming myself for never being good enough, for feeling awful that I never made anything of myself, for failing again, and again, and again and being told it was because I was too lazy...

I'm mad. I'm really. Fucking. Mad.

My family and the health system failed me. They made me believe I was making it all up, that I was a drama queen. They invalidated my feelings over and over and over...

But 10 year old me was right. Something was wrong. Something has been wrong for a very long time and I'm finally now, at 35 years old, getting the help I have been begging for my entire life.

When I discussed this discovery with my friends the first thing they asked was if I was okay, because hearing all that was a lot to take in. My mom, on the other hand, scoffed and told me the NP is lying and isn't an expert. She just wants to sell me a medication that will poison my system. Mom completed her "diagnosis" by telling me my real problem is that I don't exercise and I spend too much time on the computer. If I'd give up the screen time and go for a walk I will be all better.

I'm really. Fucking. Mad.

[radioactivewisdom]

I disagree with that last anon so much. Writing about the faults in society's illogical, entitled mindset to provide helpful guidance to those who seek genuine liberation is not the same thing as writing about negativity for the sake of wallowing in it. When I was in "misandrist" radfem spaces, the energy was so radioactive it literally gave me panic attacks. On the other hand, I feel so confident and hopeful after I read what you and these amazing purity loving women have to say. The energy doesn't lie. The former was depressing and anxiety inducing. The latter feels light and inspires me to move on from the negative things being discussed, bc even though both are discussing the unfortunate reality of this world, the message is different. With radfems, it was always about bitter resentment that stem from entitlement and nothing more. Writing post after post about how men aren't what they want them to be and then offering no solution, as if that helps anything. On blogs like yours, the focus is on being proactive, fostering accountability, staying on the right path and focusing on what we CAN control- only ourselves. I read what you and these other ladies write, go out and see it reflected in the people around me, and I see puzzle pieces come together in real time. You know what I got out of being served lukewarm feminist takes on a daily basis? Absolutely fucking nothing besides the knowledge that men suck, which I already knew. Now I see everybody's manipulation for what it is, not only in men but in EVERYONE. You can't talk about idiotic, manipulative and evil women in fem spaces without being gaslit because they are those things. I was always mildly aware of how nefarious and two-faced everyone around me was, but I never trusted that my preception was right. Talking about the truth with others who see it has built my confidence and keeps me on the right track, and I'm finding it easier to navigate this world. This is just a part of my journey, there may be a time where I don't need guidance and stop coming on here, but for now it's helping me become the person I want to be. So thank you for sharing your thoughts because they're very helpful and much appreciated. PS I don't mind the vulgar language bc it's a vulgar world we're talking about here. I'd rather read the words dick and cum in a negative context here than read about them described in flowery language everywhere else.

I can feel your passion from the words you’ve written alone. That’s why having a space to express such things is so important. I’m inspired just from receiving this, and knowing woman like you are also out there is what it’s all about. You have such a clear grasp on reality, so intelligent.

Your experience is so common for those who find themselves congregating around these parts. Thats why it’s important to talk clearly, even if it’s not pretty, so that others can wake up. I so much agree and it’s why I left those spaces as well. There were never any solutions and acknowledgment that we all play a part in this hell when making bad choices.

I really appreciate you taking the time to send this message :) It’s not only made me feel better, it also delights me to hear from women like yourself.

[actuallyadhd]

The reason I realised I might have adhd was my brother, he's so clearly autistic so I did research to make sure.

When I brought it up with my mother she told me to not tell him.

I finally got my diagnosis after 3 years of trying to get it, of going deeper and deeper into it.

Idk, I never hated it? I never hated my adhd. Back in 2020 I was a more active person? In terms of doing the things I liked and doing art.

Now I'm slow, tired, fatigued.

And that happened after I took meds. Apparently ritalin prozac and anxiety meds aren't supposed to be taken together, Idk what my therapist was thinking.

She told me to get anxiety meds for my stimming, cause I stim cause I'm nervous. But I KNOW that I don't. I stim when I'm excited, or when I can't focus.

When I'm anxious, when I'm angry I go stiff a a rock, I get focused sharp, because I have to be, it's a defense mechanism.

I don't hate adhd I don't hate meds inheritly either. But I hate how my meds made me a zombie, that I was forced to go on them so I could achieve this academic goal.

Maybe if I lived in a place with better mental healthcare I wouldn't be dealing with the effects of bad medication and my worsening depression.

I'm slightly better now, but my executive function got fucked. I can't just, do the things I like anymore. I feel less feelings than I did before.

I don't hate myself I just, I guess I'm in a hurry to heal from everything when I'm still living with the people that abused and continue to abuse me emotionally.

Specially my abelist mother who keeps saying adhd and autism aren't a disability, and they're just a quirk like her being left handed.

My dad has finally came to the realisation that he probably has adhd like me.

I'm a uni student now and living in a dorm away from my family has helped me regain that control I had and live a healthier life. But I'm back now over the summer and I can feel myself going back to my old ways the more I stay at my family home.

Idk,

Is this cptsd? Idk what it is.

Is it bad to say I love my adhd? Usually at least. When there's no one breathing down my neck not letting me do my own thing, when I don't get pulled into random places and have a choice to stay. And say no.

I guess things will get worse before they get better....

Sent August 18, 2024

There's definitely a lot to unpack here. I'm sorry you're struggling so much right now. I will do my best to offer suggestions and reassurance, as always.

It makes sense that your brother is autistic and you have ADHD; both are highly heritable, and seem to be related in some way. So it also makes sense that your dad has now realized he probably has ADHD!

I have a feeling this is going to be long, so have a cut.

Stimming & Anxiety

Neurotypical people think that the only reason for fidgeting is anxiety.

It's not.

As a general rule, it's either expressive (as when we're happy or excited or upset) or regulating (as when we need to focus or feel overwhelmed).

And if stimming or fidgeting isn't disruptive or hurting anyone (including yourself), it definitely doesn't need to be medicated. WTAF.

Medication Issues

Medication can be tricky. The wrong meds can cause more problems than they solve. Even the right med at the wrong dose can be a problem!

Examples from my own life:

Starting dose of Concerta didn't do much, next dose up gave me a week-long anxiety attack.

Starting dose of Welbutrin made me feel like I was About to Die for a week.

Dexedrine initially made me NOT HUNGRY for three weeks. I lost 10 lbs.

Strattera made me depressed and adversely affected my typing (been accurately touch typing since I was 11, suddenly was making really weird typos).

Good dose of sertraline (Zoloft) helped my anxiety and depression but caused me to start skin picking in earnest; next dose up had me closing in on serotonin syndrome.

Adderall worked well (until it didn't) but also made me feel ill after I ate yogurt.

It sounds like you would need to try other meds or other doses, preferably one at a time(!), to find what works best for you overall.

Executive Function & Depression

It sounds like your depression is your biggest problem right now. Depression can worsen executive functioning, so that makes sense.

It's probably a good idea to talk to your prescribing doctor about your medication regime. Ask what your options are and if you can please work on getting off the antidepressant so you can try something else.

Alongside this, you may well be dealing with ADHD burnout, which I am only just coming out of myself. It's a struggle, to be sure!

My best advice for that is to be gentle with yourself. Don't expect yourself to Do All the Things; instead, keep a master list of things that need to get done and choose three of them to focus on each day (your Goals) and three fun ones to try to get to each day (your gravy).

It's okay if sometimes one of your Goals is to get dressed.

Parent Stuff

It sounds like your mom is trying to make you feel better or maybe herself(?). If that's how she needs to think of this all, let her. What matters is that she understands when you're struggling and is willing to support you. If not, you might like to refer her to this Russell Barkley video.

It's great that your dad has realized he has ADHD, though! Even if he doesn't bother to pursue a formal diagnosis, just knowing that can help a lot since if he's having issues he knows where to find suggestions that are more likely to actually work (because stuff that works for neurotypical people almost never works for ADHDers, while stuff that works for us also works for NT's).

Family Systems Theory says that how we behave around our family members is directed by how our family works as a system. There are also smaller systems within the whole that affect how individuals relate to each other. This is why we tend to fall back into childhood patterns when we're around our family of origin. Those patterns are ingrained through years of conditioning.

CPTSD?

While I don't think Gabor Maté is right about trauma and ADHD, I do think that it's pretty common for ADHDers to have childhood trauma. We spend years getting in trouble for stuff we couldn't control and being held to a standard we simply can't reach due to our ADHD, and that affects our self-esteem and is (to my mind) a big reason why so many of us have Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria (RSD), which is that huge emotional reaction we can have to criticism (real or perceived).

I have found a lot of reassurance and helpful information about CPTSD through watching videos from the Crappy Childhood Fairy on YouTube. She reads letters from people and helps them with their problems, and she explains the problems faced by people who have CPTSD and offers ways to deal with them.

Loving ADHD

I don't think it's bad to love your ADHD. I do think it's a little weird, because most of us hate it a lot of the time, but I definitely see positives in my own life and view it as a neutral (if annoying) part of who I am.

I actually think it's great that you do love it, because it's going to be part of your life forever. Making sure you have systems in place to deal with the stuff that's challenging is going to be really important moving forward, but that's part of what this Tumblr is for.

Overall, I think you are probably doing better than you think you are, and once your meds get sorted you'll be in a much better space in general.

Followers, do you have anything to add, or any corrections to something I've said?

-J

[ladyseidr]

So, as you may know from his muse page, Rory has ( obviously undiagnosed ) ADHD. I wanted to delve more into this ( and project some of my ADHD onto him lmaooo ).

so, we'll start heavier and then move on to the mostly lighter stuff: yes, his ADHD is disabling. no, he does not know that. yes, he's thinks he's just lazy and stupid ( he's not </3 ).

no, his would-be-shitty-no-matter-what parents do not help the above, although his mom's emotional abuse / judgment actually gives him the bigger complex abt it

he does struggle academically despite the fact that, talking to him about his interests / stuff he's knowledgeable about, he clearly comes across intelligent. he struggles with focus, some memory issues, plus general test anxiety despite claiming to not care about school. he hears a lot of "try harder" despite, like, actually putting effort in for many years of his schooling.

he graduates high school, barely ( as in, highly considered dropping out for 101 reason, including the ADHD ). no, he doesn't even consider college.

the combination of untreated ADHD, C-PTSD, and definitely an ( un ) healthy dose of depression make it hard for him to work "traditional jobs," so he does mostly odd jobs. at some point after getting his own place, i def think he starts diving into his art a little more. can aspen write a muse who isn't a creative? tune in next time to find out.

unrelated, but i am serious about the band idea. about him joining some local, semi-decent band as a singer.

ANYWAY some lighter stuff now: guy who always has one major ( months and months long ) and one minor ( 1-2 weeks ) hyperfixation going on at all times.

his common types of hyperfixations tend to be: specific comic book series or characters, specific bands, D&D, video games, and so forth.

he does get pulled back to previous hyperfixations sometimes, especially favorite characters ( like batg.irl, green ar.row, nightc.rawler, spid.er-man, etc )

please let him infodump at you. please let your muse find it endearing when he talks for 30 minutes straight about the latest Batm.an series. or about his new spray paint. or about anything.

btw i'm adding this just to be petty because i brought up comics but i promise you he called in and voted for jason not to die. i think older rory read "Under the H.ood" and felt the most validation he'd ever felt in his life. this isn't even fn.af-related anymore, let me get mad about D.C for a second—

( actually let's be real rory relating to jason big time is Real and Canon to me. anyway hayla, if you're reading this—)

sometimes his brain moves faster than his mouth and he literally can't say what he wants to say fast enough to get it out coherently ( real real real ).

he does miss social cues sometimes, but how much of that is ADHD vs him just not being properly socialized prior to school is debatable. pre-bite, he's able to laugh it off when someone calls him on it.

projecting big time but i think he should be a rocker ( as a stim ). if he's sitting down, he's probably rocking or bouncing his leg or something. if he's standing, he's shifting foot-to-foot constantly. that's not to say he can never be still, but he stims quite a lot. it's not always ( or even often ) a sign of nerves, he just gets restless.

in fact, honestly a lot of his idle behavior can scream "nervous" if you don't realize he's simply restless.

his recklessness is honestly not something i'd attribute to his ADHD. he has little care for his own safety, but i think that's a lot broader then ( or even wholly unrelated to ) his ADHD

does he ever get diagnosed? it's probably well into his 30s before he can even be convinced to try therapy, but yeah, i think eventually he gets diagnosed and tbh i think he probably cried the first time he read the, like, symptoms of it and realized it fit him. also when he gets on medication. this is supposed to be a happy bullet point but AGH </3

anyway rory infodumping at your muse starter call when?

[steddieas-shegoes]

I come bearing a request! I need some wish fulfilment in my life, so Robin & Steve still meeting and becoming platonic soulmates even without all the Upside Down? Feel free to combine this with others or go wild with it in any direction you want. I love your writing, and I’m really looking forward to seeing all of these when they come out, I’m sure people have had so many good ideas!

THANK YOU!!!! I loved this idea. I love their friendship so much, it reminds me sooooo much of me and my person. Even though you said I could mix it in with another one, this felt like something I wanted to make the main focus. They're platonic soulmates, so they find each other no matter the circumstances or universe. I hope you like what I came up with! - Mickala ❤️

-----------------------------------------------------

Steve was so lost. He followed the map, or tried to at least, but still ended up by the music building instead of the library.

He was certain there was a joke there about jocks not being able to find the library, but his head hurt, and he was hungry, and he was exhausted.

His first few days of classes had been overwhelming to say the least. He’d only registered for three classes, already knowing his work schedule would keep him too busy to handle more.

It would mean graduating later, but it would also mean more freedom from his parents.

That was more important.

But he carved out an entire afternoon to go to the library this week and so far, he’d wasted an hour walking to the wrong library, back to his car to get the campus map, and then, apparently, the wrong direction.

He was about two seconds away from crying.

He inhaled. He exhaled.

He leaned back against the wall of the music building and slid down until he was sitting on the ground.

It was his day off so nothing was stopping him from just sitting here until he found the energy to walk back to his car.

Except for the person currently tripping over his legs.

“Shit! Who sits on the ground outside? Who does that?”

The girl looked at him, eyes squinting as she took in his visibly pitiful appearance.

“Dingus! Why are you on the ground?”

She sounded annoyed, but also a little amused?

“Sorry. I’m just lost and tired.”

She searched his face, probably trying to figure out how someone like him could be this lost.

“Where are you trying to be?”

“Library.”

“That’s on the other side of campus.”

“I know that now, thanks.”

He really wasn’t in the mood to deal with people, especially not someone who already seemed to not like him because he was in the way.

But she wouldn’t go away, despite the fact that she was clearly in a rush before.

“Weren’t going inside?” He couldn’t help asking, hoping she’d forget about him and leave him to mope for a bit longer.

“I was. But you’re kind of depressing and I think it can wait.”

That’s awesome to hear. He kind of felt like the tears he’d been holding back on for ten minutes now were going to fall and he’d make a bigger fool out of himself and this girl would probably call campus security thinking he’s nuts.

“Dude. You’re kind of losing it. It’s only the first week.”

Yeah, well.

“I’ll be fine. Just go to class. You’re obviously running late.”

“First of all, it’s practice, not class. I’m in the marching band. Scholarship duties or whatever. Second of all, I’m not leaving you here. You look like you’re gonna throw up and die.”

Steve rolled his eyes. This girl was incredibly dramatic.

It was definitely entertaining at least.

“I’m not gonna die.”

“But you might throw up?” The girl looked disgusted. “Do it behind the building at least.”

He was a little nauseous, but that was probably just the anxiety and exhaustion mixed with not eating in a while.

Did he even have breakfast today?

Shit. He didn’t have breakfast.

“Okay. Here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m gonna go inside and tell them there’s an emergency and I can’t stay. The director is cool, he won’t even ask questions.” The girl was waving her hands around like that would help explain her plan. It didn’t. “Then, I walk you to the library. You buy me a snack at the cafe next to it so I can make the walk back here. We never see each other again, I pretend you’re not as pitiful as you look, and you learn where the library is.”

In theory, that sounded fine. But in practice, he wasn’t gonna waste her time.

The library closed in two hours and he wouldn’t have nearly enough time to do what he needed to by the time he got there, so why waste the energy walking all that way? Especially if it caused someone else to waste their time?

“It’s alright. Go to practice. I’m just gonna walk back to my car and head to the dorm.”

“You live on campus? Which dorm?”

“Grayson Hall. Why?”

There was only one co-ed dorm on campus, so the odds of her living in the same building as him were slim to none.

“Me too! Dude, do you think you could wait for me to be done with practice and drive us both back? It’s dark when I leave and my usual ride is sick.”

Steve should’ve said no. He didn’t even know this girl’s name. She seemed kind of crazy. Like, who asked a stranger for a ride and told them where they lived?

“You don’t have much stranger danger knowledge do you?”

“I think I can take you if I have to. You’re pale and you have bags under your eyes the size of the moon. I took a self defense class before I came here. My parents insisted.”

“Uh.” Well, he couldn’t really think of a reason not to at this point. “Okay.”

“Great! I’m Robin. You are…?”

“Steve.”

“Cool. See you in two hours dingus!”

He didn’t get a chance to respond before she was in the building.

Alright then.

————————-

Robin was kind of insane. But in the best way.

Steve hadn’t really had friends since the first two years of high school.

He’d gotten the shit kicked out of him twice in a row and “fell from grace” by junior year.

He couldn’t even find a place with the nerds. He wasn’t enough of anything. Not enough of a jock. Not enough of a smart kid. Not enough of a nerd. Not enough of a bad boy.

Not enough.

But the more time he spent with Robin, the more he felt like he could be.

She teased him relentlessly, sure, but she let him tease her back.

She was patient with him when he didn’t understand something, taking time to explain an assignment that confused him.

She was a sophomore, didn’t have to take a gap year like he did. She got a scholarship right out of high school.

He cut himself off from his parents right out of high school. The moment he did, he was completely on his own.

He had very little savings, just enough to rent a room in a house with a few people he didn’t know outside of town. He worked two jobs for a while, making sure he was putting away anything extra, living “slim” as one of his roommates used to say.

He didn’t have time to make friends.

And when he got accepted into college, he knew it would be the same.

He was paying for school himself, and he wasn’t smart enough to get an academic scholarship, or good enough at any of the sports he played in high school to get a sports scholarship. That meant he had to work at least one full time job while he took classes.

But that didn’t deter Robin.

She showed up at his door every morning with a smile and some crazy story about what happened at band practice the day before.

Band kids were kind of crazy. Robin was a little crazy.

He loved her.

She brought so much to his life, so much he didn’t realize he’d been missing.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d swear he was in love.

But he did know better.

Before she even came out to him, he knew she was different. Not a bad different, just the kind that he wasn’t wanting to be involved with romantically. Something was telling him she wasn’t interested in him either.

So one month into the semester, while they were studying together on Steve’s lunch break at work, she told him.

“I’m gonna say something that will either make you hate me or make us closer than ever.”

“Okay?”

“Just promise me no matter how you take it, you won’t tell anyone else. It would be dangerous for me.”

Dangerous? Was she in the mafia or something?

“I won’t tell anyone.”

He wouldn’t. But he was a little scared he’d end up in a ditch somewhere.

“I’m. Okay so. You know how you’re into women?”

This is not what Steve expected.

“…yeah?”

“Okay. I’m. Also into women?”

Steve sat silently. Waiting for her to say more.

Robin just stared at him, nervously biting her nails.

“And?” Steve asked when she didn’t continue on her own.

“And…that’s it? I’m a lesbian.”

“Oh.”

Oh, that’s it? Nothing mafia related? Cool.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I mean I expected something bad.”

“You don’t think that’s bad?”

“No? Should I?”

Robin looked like she was going to cry and that couldn’t happen because they were in public and Steve still didn’t know what to do to comfort people when they cried.

“Don’t cry. Please. I think you’re amazing, Robin. It doesn’t matter if you like women. I like women so, like, I get it.”

“You do?”

“Of course I do! I mean, boobs. Am I right?”

Robin let out a bark of a laugh.

“Yeah, boobs. Hard to resist.”

They smiled at each other, then looked back at their books.

He got lucky with Robin.

He got lucky that she’d found him when he was lost and kept him going the right way since.

[simslegacy5083]

NSB (Straud Legacy) Gen 9

Today's (7/10/2024) Episode: Help Incoming

At the hospital, a still unresponsive Noemi was quickly taken to a room. Luigi gave them all the information he could, but the orderlies could only tell him that a psychiatric evaluation was needed. He waited anxiously for the psychiatrist to arrive, hoping that his embrace was at least calming for his love.

While he waited Luigi had time to bitterly regret getting so wrapped up in his new job. Noemi had seemed willing to care for Skye basically all alone, but the burden had clearly been too much. His newfound fame and career had seemed so important at the time, but it was certainly put in perspective now.

He would happily trade all his new internet fans to have Noemi smile at him again and vowed to be less self-involved moving forward.

Luigi was directed to leave the room once Noemi’s evaluation started, and instructed not to return until he was notified that it was over.

He roamed the halls for what felt like hours, grabbing a bite to eat at the cafeteria and distracting himself with games on his phone. Finally, he heard his name on the overhead paging system and hurried back into Noemi’s room.  He could see that she’d been crying and gave her a kiss on the forehead as he climbed back into the small exam bed beside her before turning his attention to the psychiatrist.

Based on her medical history and this evaluation Noemi had been diagnosed with Autism. She’d struggled with similar symptoms in her teens, but everything had improved at university where she’d had the freedom to focus almost exclusively on her special interests. She told Luigi that she’d never mentioned anything about it to him because she thought she’d moved past it.

Luigi had a million questions, but first and most important was finding out how to get his fiancée the help she needed.

Their provider explained that studies showed women with autism had a higher rate of post partum complications related to depression and anxiety, as Noemi had experienced. Luckily, there were a variety of treatments that could help her cope with her symptoms. They recommend a couple medications as well as therapy and suggested reestablishing a regular routine that included time for the activities she enjoyed.

Noemi didn’t want to start any meds that might interfere with breastfeeding just then, but she was willing to try therapy. They agreed to ask Valentina to come stay with her while Luigi was at work, so she wasn’t alone, and he promised to pitch in more when he was at home.

Once they’d settled on a treatment plan, Luigi asked the question that had been at the forefront of his mind ever since he’d been given the news.

What did this mean for his son? How likely was it that Skye might also be autistic? The psychiatrist told the couple that Noemi having autism by no means meant Skye would have it as well, but it did increase his chances.

At that Noemi started to cry again, distraught at the idea that her “sickness” might have “ruined” their perfect baby.

Luigi pulled them both upright, wrapping her in a tight embrace and telling her that she hadn’t ruined anything.

She was special and wonderful just the way she was, and he would be thrilled to have Skye take more after his kind, calm, and loving mother than his own selfish and high-strung self. Any issues their son faced would be easier to help him deal with armed with what they’d learn helping her now.

Noemi took a deep shuddering breath, her tears slowing as she calmed at his affirmation of love.

She knew no matter her faults, or his own, they were in this together, and that was what mattered most.

View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here

[thelostgirl21]

OMFG! This came across my dash, and given that Jaskier is, like, the most ADHD coded character I've had the pleasure of watching on screen since Jake Peralta, first thing that came to mind was...

"But what if having sex actually is one of the ways that Jaskier has instinctively found to self-medicate, though?"

What if he tends to be able to think more clearly, feel calmer, and be a bit less restless and impulsive after sex?

What if, sometimes, for example, he tends to start a bunch of different new songs at the same time, while struggling with finishing them, and thus feels driven to have sex with someone to help himself focus and complete them?

People with ADHD actually do tend to gravitate towards hypersexuality and hyposexuality (it's not considered an official symptom of ADHD per say, more a co-occurence... Like, I think that among men seeking treatment for hypersexuality issues and problematic porn consumption, they discovered 67% of them had ADHD or something...), and Jaskier's very high sex drive - while not necessarily considered a disorder in itself - is still enough to put him into some serious trouble at times and generate drama in his interpersonal relationships.

I mean, I don't want to call him sexually hyperfixated, but his very first impulse - after the world around him froze and a copy of himself appeared before him - was trying to assess the fuckability of the situation and if he might be into having sex with himself even before asking if he was still alive!

At the very least, it definitely seems that sex might be a coping strategy that he uses to relieve feelings of stress and anxiety.

We've already seen Jaskier go:

to cope with his emotions.

But he just might have this very instinctive:

coping response as well!

In a sense, maybe the way he reacted to Seanchai looking at him was a manifestation of that.

Anxiety going through the roof = Jaskier going:

Poor bard is just going through his life, facing impossible odds, and regularly going:

to manage the crazy levels of stress he's constantly being subjected to.

People think he's being promiscuous because he is irresponsible and immature or something, when the poor bard is just instinctively doing whatever he can to manage his blood pressure, and avoid dying young of some stress-related condition.

Of course, the desired therapeutic effect might be a little offset by the fact that a bunch of nobles tend to want to kill him for having had sex with their spouses and/or relatives... Guess he'll just need to go find someone to sleep with to deal with that stress then... Wait.

Jaskier to Geralt: "I think we should go to Redania... Ciri would have an entire army at her back, and I'd have a really sexy Prince at mine providing me with a steady dopamine, endorphin and oxytocin supply. Seriously Geralt, I'm only human, and if this keeps going, at this rate I won't live past 50!"

Radovid to his brother: "Look, I'm really shit at being a spymaster and a Prince, but years of being very bored and very gay at court have helped me develop a unique type of expertise. And now, I've just discovered there's this one thing - or rather person - that I can do, and do really well! And he's going through some apocalyptic-level stressful shit right now. So, you've got to let me go help him, alright?"

It also would make sense that Jaskier would be so driven to have sex with people, regardless of sexual attraction, if sexual activity happens to be a coping mechanism for him, that can both act as a psychostimulant, and/or as something to help him relieve anxiety, stress, and even the occasional depressive feelings.

In that case, it can also turn into a sort of cycle that becomes self-sustaining, i.e. :

People make him feel shame over his regular need for sex and "promiscuity" - - > it triggers his RSD and emotional insecurities over never being good enough for those he loves, or "too different" - - > he instinctively seeks sex to take his mind off those negative and painful feelings, feel wanted, connected to others, receive praise rather than harsh criticism, and flood his system with stress relieving and "feel good" hormones - - > people make him feel shame over his regular need for sex and "promiscuity" - - > it triggers...

And then, there's Radovid that never reacted negatively to the fact that Vespula was angry at Jaskier over the many, many different people he'd been sleeping with, openly called Geralt "his Witcher", wanted to help him find and rescue the rest of his family...

He's not putting any pressure on Jaskier to stop loving other people or being intimate with them to also be loved and wanted by him.

There are so many ways that Prince/King can help our poor bard manage and relieve his anxiety, including not making him feel wrong or inadequate for having such a need for sex in the first place...

Ironically, the way Radovid's brain works apparently "turns Jaskier on"... but Radovid turning him on - while also making him fell like he is enough - might also help "turn Jaskier off" (as in, help him modulate his overall need for sex in general) if there's less of a need for him to turn to sex to cope with the way his own brain works, and the distress it might occasionally cause him.

As an ex-nurse clinician, it is thus my professional opinion that someone should really officially prescribe some Radovid to Jaskier, to be taken PRN - p.o., as a spoon, intrarectal or however he needs him - and as often as he personally needs him.

It's not a want, it's a need. Someone needs to deliver some Radovid back to him ASAP.

Okay, and now I imagine Geralt just showing up with Jaskier at some point in Tretogor after Yennefer portals them both there, knocking on the castle door, and basically going:

Geralt: Yes, hi. Sorry to bother you. Things have been exceedingly stressful lately, and I have a bard that's been insisting on going back to see an ex-lover...

Jaskier: I'm telling you, it's fine!

Geralt: ...that's threatened to have him beheaded if she ever saw him on her lands again...

Jaskier: I'm sure she didn't mean it!

Geralt: ...and this idiot is willing to risk death...

Jaskier: She's actually really sweet once you get to know her!

Geralt: ...in the hopes that she'll agree to sleep with him.

Jaskier: I'm not even sure if she offered to cut off my head or give me head if she ever saw me again! You know how easy it is to confuse the two...

Geralt: No. No Jaskier, I do not.

Castle Guard: Ah... Yes, so um... what do you need us to do about -

Radovid: *Showing up out of breath, in a robe, with his crown hanging a bit sideways, after he took off running as fast as he could when he caught sight of Geralt and Jaskier approaching the castle from his private chambers' window.* Yeah... Hi... It's okay... *to the guards* I've ... I've... got this...

Jaskier: *Blushes and whines, leaning heavily against Geralt to avoid sliding to the floor at the sight.*

Radovid: *Concerned, to Geralt.* What happened? Is he okay? *Reaches out to Jaskier to hold him in his arms and help support him, looking for any sign of injuries.* Are you hurt?

Geralt: If you could just keep him with you and have sex with him for a few days, I'm sure he'll be perfectly fine!

Radovid: *Dumbstruck* You want me to do what now?

Jaskier: *Starting to kiss and nimble on Radovid's collarbone, insistently pressing himself against him.* Me. Do me. Now.

Radovid: Ah, alright, but we'll need to use the barracks. I'm not running all the way back upstairs!

Geralt: Don't think you'd even manage to make it to the first floor anyway.

Castle Guard: Ah, so, should we... give the order to empty the barracks your Majesty?

Jaskier: *Beginning to slide his hands under his robes.* They could stay and watch, or join in...

Radovid: I'm... not sure if that's the kind of support I'm entitled to expect or ask from the Redanian army, but if some of them want to stay, I guess... Why not?

Jaskier: *Briefly pulling back to look at him, realising he's not put off by, or disapproving of his behavior.* I love you.

Radovid: *Beams back at him.* I love you, too. Marry me?

Geralt: Boy, that escalated quickly!