#and then be all. hey! hello. i have depression and anxiety. what are my options?

[scarabsinthestardust]

Better in the Morning // Ch. 14

MASTERLIST

word count: 2900+

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Language; pregnancy; pregnancy tests, doctor's appointments; anxiety; mentions of depression; a tiny mention of abortion and archaic Tennessee state laws regarding it; bad news and a cliffhanger (please forgive me)

I rarely get sick. I sometimes say it’s because I inherited my father’s immune system. When everyone around me got COVID, I somehow got away scot-free. So, when I woke up feeling extremely nauseous, I brushed it off as the aftereffects of something I ate. Maybe the Chinese food from last night didn’t agree with me. But when it hadn’t faded by the next day, I resigned myself to accepting that I caught a stomach bug.

I scoured the cabinets for any kind of nausea medicine, but the only one I found expired six months ago. I groaned and threw it in the trash. I didn’t bother changing out of my pajama pants, just threw my hair into a messy bun and headed to the drug store.

I grabbed a Sprite and went hunting for the medicine. I found it without too much trouble, but as I cut through another aisle to head towards checkout, I froze. I stared at the shelves, eyeing the pink and blue boxes wearily. There’s no way. I don’t know why it even crossed my mind. I’d been on the birth control shot for a while now. I haven’t really had a period, but that’s normal for the type of contraception I’ve been on. Other than the nausea, I didn’t have any symptoms. So why was I suddenly worried? With a sigh, I grabbed a random one off the shelf. Just to be sure.

~

Sitting in the bathroom, I stared at the test. It’s crazy how a stupid, tiny piece of white plastic can hold so much power over someone. I debated throwing it away, that it was a stupid idea and there was no way in hell that’s what was wrong with me. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. “This is so dumb,” I said to myself before grabbing it off the counter and popping off the cap.

I waited however long the instructions specified before picking it up again. I’d talked myself into believing I was just being paranoid, pushing my anxieties down and telling myself to quit worrying, and that I could laugh about it later. After all, the shot only had a one percent failure rate. I was fine. Probably. But when I saw those two parallel lines, my breath caught in my throat and my heart sank into my stomach. Fuck me.

Because I don’t know how to be cool, calm, and collected in the face of certain situations, the next logical step was to panic. I grabbed my keys and drove, probably way over the speed limit, back to the store. I tried to convince myself it was a faulty test, a false positive. I would just try one more. But the anxiety won out. When I dropped eleven different boxes on the checkout counter, the clerk raised an eyebrow at me.

“Don’t ask,” I muttered.

~

Positive. Every single one was positive. Fuck. Me.

I wanted to throw up, but couldn’t tell if it was nerves, the large amount of water I consumed in such a short period, or the fact that I had an actual human in my stomach. Between sobbing and hyperventilating, I eventually did manage to puke. I sat on the bathroom floor, my mind going a thousand miles a minute. I had no idea what I was going to do.

Jake and the guys went back on tour a couple of weeks ago and wouldn’t be back for almost another month. I couldn’t call Jake; it wouldn’t be right to drop that bomb and cause a huge distraction. He needed to focus on their busy tour list and countless shows they were playing around the country. Finn was in Colorado for the week. I could call Richie, but how much help would he be in this situation? I didn’t have any girlfriends I was close enough with to help me out with this. I had one more option, though.

I opened my contacts and found the name. I stared at it for what seemed like ages while I got my breathing under control before I finally pressed ‘DIAL.’

The line was answered after a few rings. “Hello?”

“Hey, Karen. Um, are you busy?” My voice sounded raw from crying.

“Not at all. What’s going on, sweetheart? Is everything okay?”

“Uh, I don’t know. I’m kinda freaking out. I’m sorry. I didn’t know who else to call.”

“It’s okay, honey. Just breathe, tell me what happened. Is it Jake?”

“I’m pregnant,” I blurted out. I wasn’t ready for the weight of those words and how scary it would feel saying them out loud.

Karen gasped. “Oh my God, that’s… you haven’t told Jake yet?” I could hear the excitement in her voice.

“No, I can’t tell him while they’re on tour. We… we didn’t plan for this. What if he doesn’t want a baby? What if he’s not ready? What if I’m not ready?” I was fighting sobs as I spoke, and it was a losing battle. “I don’t know how to be a mom.”

Karen’s voice never faltered as she talked me off the metaphorical ledge, calmly pulling me back. “Honey, just breathe for me. I know you’re scared, and that’s okay. It’s a big change, and it can be difficult. Trust me, I know. But you have to remember you aren’t going to be doing this alone. You always have me and Kelly. And you’ve practically got the whole rest of the village there with you.” She let out a deep sigh. “Jake loves you. I think he’s going to be so happy. You guys will figure it out as you go, but you’ll do it together.”

I sniffled and rubbed my eyes with the heel of my palm. I knew she was right, and that I was surrounded by wonderful people that would be more than willing to provide support. Of course, I worried about my dad’s reaction when he inevitably, eventually found out. But my biggest fear, the one I couldn’t quell the anxiety of, was Jake. Despite Karen’s comforting words, I was terrified he would be disappointed. The little voice in my head told me it was going to ruin his life, his dream, and I struggled to silence that voice.

“Did you see a doctor yet?”

“No. I just took twelve drug store pregnancy tests.”

“Twelve…? You know what, I don’t want to know,” she chuckled. “The point is, the first step is to make an appointment with your OB. Do you have any idea how far along you might be?”

I involuntarily snorted a laugh. “Sorry, no clue.”

“That’s okay. They can tell you that. They’ll do an ultrasound and bloodwork to check for a bunch of different things, make sure the baby’s healthy and everything.”

A whole new collection of worries and fears rose up in my chest. What if I passed down whatever illness made my mother take her life, then Luca’s? Would the baby inherit Jake’s issues too, making it a double whammy in the depression department? I wouldn’t bring any of this up to Karen, so I forced it back down as far as I could. One thing at a time.

~

The earliest OB appointment was a week out. It gave me a chance to catch my breath and plan things out in my head. Once I got all the tears out, I started doing my own research and gathering questions I wanted to ask the doctor. I tried my best to pretend everything was normal when Jake called. I know it was for the best right now, but hiding this from him was so much more painful than I imagined.

I decided to hold off on telling Finn, on the off chance he accidentally let something slip to Josh. Richie was suspicious the second I told him I’d be out of work for a doctor’s appointment. He eventually coaxed it out of me, staring at me in shock when I told him. I made him swear not to say a word to anyone, and he offered to close the shop and come with me to the doctor’s, but I declined. I needed to do this on my own. Part of it was just me being stubborn and not wanting to ask for help, but another part was stuck on a dark road, telling me I needed to figure out how to do it myself, just in case. I hated thinking like that and feeling like I had to prepare for every worst-case scenario, but it was ingrained into me, and nothing I did could rid myself of those thoughts.

By the time the appointment rolled around, my nerves hadn’t settled at all. I sat in the waiting room, trying and failing to focus on a book, my knee shaking so hard I was receiving pitiful looks from others in the waiting room.

I apologized profusely to the phlebotomist who did my bloodwork and the ultrasound tech for my nervousness, who sweetly assured me that it was perfectly normal to be anxious about it all, especially since it was my first time. She asked me some routine questions as she set everything up for the ultrasound. She did warn me that the gel would be cold, but I still jumped when it touched my stomach. Cold was an understatement.

“Okay, you ready?”

I nodded quietly before she put the handheld scanner against my skin (I learned later that it’s called a transducer). After some movement and uncomfortable silence, she spoke again. “There we are. Do you want to see?” I gave her an inaudible ‘yes’ and she turned the screen to face me.

“I’d say you’re just barely over six weeks. There’s the embryo, and we have a heartbeat.” She pointed a few things out, explaining as she went, but I stopped listening. I could hear my own heartbeat in my ears as I stared at the screen that displayed the tiny, bean-shaped thing I was growing inside of me, the little bundle of cells and life that would eventually be a whole baby. I could see it now, and that made it real.

When this all first came to light, I considered all possible options. Just to be prepared. Not that abortion would have been an option in the state of Tennessee, what with all these old white men creating laws about women’s bodies, but it stopped being something I was considering before I even made the doctor’s appointment. Now that I was actually seeing it, and it was a sure thing, it hit me that this was my baby. Jake’s baby. The idea that we were going to be parents was so surreal to me.

I didn’t even realize I had started crying until the ultrasound tech called my name, pulling me from my racing thoughts. “If you need to look into what your options are, I can get you some brochures and phone numbers.”

“What? Oh, no. I’m sorry. It’s a little overwhelming, but I’m okay. My boyfriend’s just out of town for work.”

She almost looked as though she didn’t believe me, but I couldn’t blame her. I was a mess, and I’m sure women lied to her all the time about their personal situations.

I thanked her and she directed me to the checkout desk to schedule my next appointment. As I walked back to my car, I kept repeating to myself, as if I stopped saying it, I would wake up and it would all be a dream, “I’m gonna have a baby.”

~

The entire day before Jake returned home, I cleaned the house top to bottom. It kept me busy and kept me from panicking too much. I wasn’t going to put it off any longer than I already had to; I was telling him tonight. Everything was ready, now I just needed to wait.

I sat on the couch to relax, and I must have dozed off, the day’s business catching up with me. I didn’t hear the front door, or the sound of Jake’s boots as he lightly treaded across the hardwood floors. My eyes fluttered open at something lightly brushing my cheek, and I smiled when my vision came into focus on Jake’s face.

“Hey, you’re home. Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“It’s all good, baby. You want to go to bed?” He kept his voice low and soft, and I could tell he was tired, too.

I just nodded in agreement, sleepily following him up the stairs. He made sure I was tucked into bed before he disappeared into the bathroom for a quick shower. I almost fell right back asleep, but my eyes shot open when I remembered my news. I opened the bedside table drawer and pulled out the little black box, something I threw together that might help me make the announcement. I concealed it under the blanket.

Jake came out of the bathroom, sporting messy, towel-dried hair, and threw some clothes on before joining me in bed. “Thought you were going to sleep. You okay?”

“Yeah, uh… I know you’re probably tired, I am too, but I have something for you, and I need to do it tonight.”

“Okay,” he gave me a concerned look. “Is it another tattoo?”

I laughed nervously. “No, but this is also one hundred percent non-returnable.”

He eyed the box suspiciously when I brought it out and into his view. He tried to ask me what it was, but I just handed it to him and gestured to open it. I held my breath as he examined the contents, trying to process what he was looking at.

The box contained a plush baby toy that resembled a cartoonish, green moth, and right next to it was the tiniest pair of black Chelsea boots I could find on the internet. Jake didn’t speak as he studied them, his brain only starting to put the pieces together. At the bottom of the box, I placed a purple envelope that held the sonogram. I heard his breath hitch when he pulled it out. He stared at it silently for what seemed like hours, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Jake? Say something, please.”

“You’re pregnant?”

“Yeah,” I whispered.

Another minute passed, his eyes not leaving the photo he held in front of him. “We’re gonna have a baby?” I couldn’t quite read his expression. It was almost as if he was in shock.

“Yeah, we are.”

When he finally looked at me, there were fresh tears forming in his eyes. “I’m gonna be a dad?”

I could only nod as I fought back my own tears. He blinked and his breath quickened before his hand was on the back of my head pulling me to him, his other still holding the sonogram. “Fuck,” he muttered in between kisses. “Fuck, we’re gonna be parents. You’re gonna be a mom.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” I laughed dryly. “I’m fucking terrified, Jake.”

“Shit, me too. But Kya,” his hand on my cheek now, he kissed me again. “I’m so fuckin’ happy. This is so… I’m gonna be a dad,” he repeated. “Do you know how long…?”

“I’m at about 10 weeks now. I have my next appointment next week, if you wanna-“

“Yes. Of course I want to be there. I want to be there for everything.”

I felt a huge weight lift off my chest. Jake was happy. He was excited about this journey. He wanted this. And it all didn’t seem so scary anymore.

“I cant wait to tell everybody. Mom’s gonna be so excited.”

“Actually, your mom already knows.” I smiled sheepishly. “I called her when I found out. Almost four weeks ago. I was panicking and I knew she’d handle it better than Richie.”

He chuckled. “That’s reasonable. Shit, I can’t believe you kept it from me for four weeks.”

“I’m sorry, Jake, I-“

“No, don’t be. I get it, I know why you did.” He took another thoughtful look at the sonogram and placed it on the bedside table, putting the box next to it. He wrapped an arm around me, his hand lingering on my stomach before pulling me gently to lie down. “I love you so much. Both of you.”

~

The next day, we arranged plans with the guys for dinner, pushing it out a few days to plan everything out, and give them a chance to rest up from tour before dropping the news. I had gotten a few copies of the sonogram to give to them. They were all my family now, and I wanted them to be involved as much as possible.

But the night before we were supposed to see them, some more unexpected news brought everything to a screeching halt.

Jake and I were just starting to get ready for bed; I was putting my hair up in a loose braid, Jake doing something in the bathroom when his phone rang from the top of the dresser. He sighed in annoyance as he walked over to answer it.

I couldn’t hear the voice on the other end, but the way Jake’s expression changed, I knew something was wrong. “I’m on the way,” he said before hanging up and rushing to put his shoes on. I started to ask what was going on, but he beat me to it, and my heart sank at his words.

“Sam’s been in an accident.”

///

I'm so sorry for the things that I've done here. I hate cliffhangers as much as the next person, so the next chapter may be out a little quicker than the weekly schedule I've been trying to stick with.

TAGLIST Let me know if you want to be added!

@hollyco @fleetingjake @musicislove3389

[retrocitizen]

Hey loves! Since its half way through suicide awareness/ prevention month, I thought I would go over and share my experiences. Both past and present.

____________

To start it off, Hello! My name is Ava but you can call me retro! My pronouns are Any and I am a bisexual teen. I recently got diagnosed with:

• Extreme Depression

• Autism

• Extreme Anxiety

• Insomnia

• ADHD

These where all diagnosed within the last 1 to 4 years. My journey throughout discovering these things was had and super stressful. So, let's start at where it all began.

ANXIETY AND DEPRESSION (!TW: MENTIONS OF SUICIDE AND ABUSE AND AN ED!):

I had been suffering with Anxiety and depression ever since I could talk (probably an overstatement, but I think you get it).

Back when I was eight (8), my parents broke up, then my dad tried to commit suicide by overdosing. He survived and lucky for me, he is doing much better today. This when I believe my Anxiety and depression really came out. Got worse, so much worse. I would start my self harm at this age.

When I was 9 soon to be 10, I tried to commit suicide myself as I felt that i couldn't take it anymore, that I was an issue, someone just in the way, and I also had way to much pressure on my back.

At that age, my mother was starting to be verbally abusive and started drugs and started dating non-stop until she settled for an abusive boyfriend. The two couldn't look after us kids so I had to. I was feeding them, washing them, looking after them. My little brother use to call me mum because he didn't know any better. I was 9, looking after myself and 3 other siblings (2 of which were very very young). I had to mature very quickly just so I could look after my siblings.

As I was about to commit, my brother bust through the door and froze. He just stared at me and I stared at him. He ran out crying calling my mum for help. This lady who was living woth us at the time was the one who came in and help, but she made it all about herself making me feel worse. My mother and the lady didn't do anything about it so I was just there, with a light cut from what I was trying to do to commit.

Mums abusive boyfriend eventually scared my youngest brother si bad that he no longer used the toilet without freaking out (he is now 8 and still freaks out because of the truma the boyfriend caused). He also eventually started abusing mum and my other brother. They broke up and then mum found out she was pregnant so yeah. She kept it now the baby is 4 and is actually really nice other then the anger issues.

Since then, I have tried committing 7 different other times, and have written about 38 suicide notes. I have also stared an ED (eating disorder). I have tried to get better, but I relapse so much that sometimes I feel like it's better to just give up. I am a current out patient for the hospital and I go there every weekend and sometimes on school days. I see 2 therapists (one from the hospital, the other one just a random one for queer teens like me) and a few other people. I take meds now too so yeah.

Because of my Anxiety, I cannot sleepover anywhere, be away from home for long, or drive even tho I legally can. I have extreme panic and anxiety attacks everyday because of it aswell.

I would like to point out that my dad is the one who got me help and not my mum.

AUTISM AND ADHD:

Yes, I have both. Its a bit hard but I manage. I dont really wanna go into detail on how these make me act. But I will say how they effect my life.

So, in my friend group, I get treated like a baby because of it. At home, my mum doesn't care for it and my dad is good with it (as he has it too). I can only drink out of mugs or small plastic water bottles (yk those ones you can get in like a pack of 24? Those.) This makes it hard, especially if im on holiday or somewhere and there is none of that option, because then I can't drink or else I start swimming badly to the point where it hurts. I also need to have a spot on the couch or else I can't sit. Like at both mum and dads, I have a certain spot on their couches where no one else can sit. My dad has made that a rule at his house, and my mum doesn't respect it. I find it hard to learn certain things, and I get no help from the school.

INSOMNIA:

Um, yeah. I have insomnia. This makes it really hard for me to operate and do a lot of stuff. (I think that's really where I need to leave it?)

______________

I take meds for all these things (that require meds) and i think I am getting better. Slowly. Some things that help me deal with these are: my dad, music, (some of) my friends, my cousin, long night drives, rain, reading, night walks, and finally my service cat Sooty (she is a legal service animal).

I think I should also add that:

I currently do 50/50 with my mum and dad after begging my mum to make it that. It use to me 70/30 with my mum having me most of the time. Also my mum has slightly improved but she is still a lot.

___________

Thank you for reading, or skimming, or just, skipping to the end. Feel free to talk about your stories either in the comments, in a repost of this post or just in a whole new separate post. Also feel free to ask me questions on anything (such as "what are your coping strategies" or "tell us more on your insomnia" or something like that).

Don't forget to contact a help line if you are struggling, or reach out to someone your feel comfortable talking to. You matter!

Bye!

-Love, retro!

[wink-wonk]

.

[puffpasstea]

Matilda

 A/N: HELLO! Posting this a day early because, I shit you not, my family showed up unannounced from out of town , so I won't have time to post this tomorrow. This is also why I didn't proof read the whole thing. Sorry for any typos. Hope you enjoy! This is the most straightforwardly Matilda heavy chapter yet. As such, the contents could be too angsty, triggering, or otherwise upsetting. Please read with caution (see warning below). Warnings: Angst, fluff, mention of childhood trauma, depression, and anxiety. But also super kind Harry. If you struggle with any of the above mentioned triggers, please know that you are valid and loved, and please reach out for help. Also, my inbox is always open if anyone wants to just chat. I love you all. Please be kind to yourselves.

Read previous chapters here.

Chapter 7

I unlocked the bathroom door, relenting to Harry’s incessant knocking. He squeezed through and shut the door behind him. I couldn’t bring myself to look up at him or even acknowledge his presence, especially in my current state. He said nothing, only wrapping his arms around me firmly and letting me sob into the crook of his neck.

Several minutes later, still in total silence, we ended up on the bathroom floor, leaning against the door, with me still clinging to Harry’s neck and he ran his fingers soothingly through my hair. Once I’d stopped sobbing long enough to realize what’d happened, I felt self-conscious and tried to peel myself away. 

Harry noticed me moving around. “Hello” he smiled down at my surely puffy, red face. 

“Hey…” my voice was barely audible; my throat raw.

“Wanna talk about it?”

I got up, off the floor, and stood in front of the mirror surveying the damage to my eyes and face.

“Nothing to talk about…just had a panic attack and felt shitty about it.” I said, stealing a glance at Harry’s face through the mirror as I played with my hair, trying to decide what the least awful hairdo option would be. 

He sat up, joining me by the mirror. “Plenty to talk about! Would it have anything to do with this family thing you’re going to?”

“Harry, look. It’s no big deal. Sorry I cried like a baby and got snot all over your $500 shirt, but there’s really nothing to talk about. You know how shitty parents can make you feel. It’s just that…”

“$800 actually, but do go on…”

He’d managed to get me to crack a smile, and he looked pretty proud of himself for that.

“I’m kidding. I think I got this shirt second hand. Went through a whole vintage phase with the solo career. Anyway, seriously, go on...”

“There’s nothing to go on about,” I stopped fiddling with my hair, and turned to face him. “You know when you haven’t seen your family in a while, and the prospect of seeing them makes you get in your head about, like, all the possible things that you could get wrong? Like how you dress, or speak, or what you order at dinner, or whatever, anything could set them off…”

  I watched Harry’s eyebrows raise into a frown as I went on. “N-no. I don’t know….” He looked sincerely confused.

“Are you saying that doesn’t happen to you?”

“It doesn’t. But, I know that my situation’s quite unusual, I only see my family like twice a year due to my job and-”

“I only see my family twice a year.”

I looked away, feeling embarrassed again and looking around me for something to distract myself with. Tears welling in the corners of my eyes already.

“I don’t want to push you to talk about something that you don’t wanna talk about, but you seem clearly upset, and, well…I’ve known you for a while now. Personally, I think there’s absolutely nothing wrong with the way you dress or speak, or what you order at dinner.” 

“That’s not what they’ll think…” I tried to get the words out but I doubt Harry could make out what I was saying as the crying overtook me again. I hated feeling so small and weak so I hid my face in the palm of my hands, not wanting to watch him watch me weep.

If he was uncomfortable at all, Harry did a great job of hiding it. He put the toilet seat cover down and made me sit on it, squatting down beside me. “Take a deep breath.” His gentle voice, just above a whisper, guiding me and helping to slow the spirals in my head.

I took several breaths and forced myself to stop crying. Bringing my knees close to my chest, I wrapped my arms around my legs. “My parents, they’re not bad people, Harry. Not at all- they…were just very young when they had me, and- well, there was a lot going on. Their parents didn’t approve of, like, the whole thing, and so they had no financial support, and- anyway, they took it out on me.” My resolve crumbled again and I couldn’t hold back the crying anymore. I rested my forehead on my knees and let my hot, salty tears run. Harry did nothing except rub slow, gentle circles along my back.

I swallowed, and looked up at him for a moment. Seeing the concern in his eyes made me feel pathetic, so I looked away quickly, choosing to focus my eyes on the bathroom floor instead. “This was a long time ago. They’ve changed now. Kind of. Like they won’t put their hands on me anymore, but, they really suck at communication” I giggled at my own words, mostly out of nerves, but seeing Harry smile too was good. “Anyway, even though they don’t not as bad a job as before, something inside of me still takes me back to those memories. Every time I see them, it’s like I’m 8 years old again and tiptoeing around trying to avoid conflict. What’s wrong with me that I can’t just let the past be in the past?!!”

“Hey, there is nothing wrong with you. You hear me?” He said without a moment’s pause.

I didn’t have it in me to respond. Too afraid that if I tried using my voice, I’d just be overcome with another wave of sobs, so I just nodded and blinked a few stray tears rolling down my face. Harry immediately reached over and wiped my eyes with the pad of his thumb, one teardrop at a time. I was suddenly aware that our faces were a mere few inches apart. At such a close distance, I saw his clear green eyes sparkle as he fixed his gaze on me, never once looking away or breaking eye-contact despite the difficult conversation that we were having. I felt as if he were looking straight into my soul, and the force of his eyes, his soft, plump lips, his  reassuring smile attempting to wordlessly negate all the destructive thoughts that swirled around me. I’d never felt so comforted by the simple presence of someone before. Usually, even the potential of sharing such a revealing, intimate side of myself to another human being had me running away as far as possible. Everything about my experiences with Harry was an exception.

“Uh-umm,” I attempted to break away from the spell of his beautiful face by clearing my throat and slowly unfolding my legs back down to the floor. “I’m running late, and I still have to figure out what to wear, and what to do with my hair, so…”

“Oh!” Harry took a minute to finally break eye contact and start to get up. “Yes, of course. I’ll let you get back to it, umm…”

He turned around to face the door as I stood back up, turning the faucet on to wash my tear-stained face, and at least try to look like an adult. The moment that I bent down to splash some water on my face I could feel Harry’s breath on my neck. He stood behind me and whispered in my ear, “You should wear that pretty little black dress, you wore to set once. You know? The one with the lacey ends? You looked so…. -holy fuck! Oh, and put your hair up. I like it when your neck is showing.”

His words sent a shiver through my body as I watched his reflection in the mirror. I blinked, and just like that, I heard the door shut behind me. He’d left.

***

Day 2, 9:47 PM.

I stormed out of the restaurant fuming and determined to get as far away from here as humanly possible. I couldn’t even remember how the argument had started, but by the end everyone was making passive-aggressive comments about how “closed-off” I am and how “little interest” I’ve shown in being a part of the family; and when I attempted to directly address to their backhanded comments, they all said I was “making a big deal out of a simple observation” and “looking to start a fight.” Basically, though they never uttered the words “you’re a shit daughter,” their words implied that I was the absolute worst person to be related to. I pulled my phone out of my purse. The screen lit up, showing a text from Harry. Sent 16 minutes ago. 

Harry (9:31 PM): I’ll wait up for you with the rest of that bottle we never finished. In the garden.

I opened the uber app and started typing his address into the “To” box, but slowly deleted it and put my own apartment address in. I couldn’t handle letting everyone see me like this. I couldn’t handle sharing a bed with Christopher for another night. I couldn’t handle anything at all at this point.

 ***

Day 3, 1:03 AM.

I was awakened by the sound of my phone’s  unrelenting vibrations on the nightstand. Harry’s sending a series of texts

Harry 2 hours ago:

It’s getting late and I’m getting worried. You still out with the family?

Harry 3 minutes ago:

Where are you? Everything alright?

Harry 2 minutes ago:

I’m officially freaking out. Now would be a good time to come back.

Harry now:

Where the fuck are you?! PLEASE LET ME HEAR FROM YOU?

Hello????!!!

I swear I WILL CALL THE POLICE!!!

I clicked on his last text to retrieve the message app and write him back.

“I’m fine, Harry.” I started to type, but quickly deleted and replaced it with “Please stop” but that felt too cruel a response to his honest concern. My mind drew a blank. I couldn’t come up with the right words to articulate that, despite not being in mortal danger and needing the police to rescue me, I was decidedly NOT FINE AT ALL. 

Harry now:

You’re there! Typing! THANK FUCK!

Oh. You stopped.

Could you please just say something so I know you’re, like, not dead?

I tapped and held his text until the reaction bubbles popped up. I hit the thumbs up bubble.

He replied with, “thank you! I’ll let you be.”

Exiting the message app I saw that I had 3 missed calls. 1 from Sienna and 2 from Christopher.  I put my phone face down back on the nightstand and turn my bed-side lamp on, looking at the room around me. I felt disoriented and the whole room looked foreign to me. I’d fallen asleep with my dress and makeup on. My pillow was stained with tears, mascara, and foundation. I flipped it over and got up to change. Tossing my dress to the floor, I grabbed the nearest shirt I could find and got back into bed.

***

Day 3 9:23 AM

Harry 1 hour ago:

We’re just going over our lines for filming. We miss you and your input.

Christopher 2 hours ago: Spoke with Harry. Said you were okay but need some time. Let me know if you need to talk, ok? xx

3 missed calls from mom

My phone was at 3%, I plugged it in, stumbling over a book of short stories on my way back to bed. I picked the book up and decided to read it in bed.

***

Day 3, 6:15 PM

Harry now:

No pressure to reply. Just wanna say I’m here and I’m thinking of you.

I let the text notification fade, and letting it add to the number of unread messages on my phone, continuing to scroll endlessly. It didn’t feel like the right thing to do. I desperately wanted to be in his presence, but the very idea of being around other people right now overwhelmed me. How could both feelings be true at the same time?

***

 Day 4, 12:00 PM

Harry now:

In the pool. Alone. Wish you were here.

Christopher 2 minutes ago:

Checkin’ in. Hope you’re better today. What’re you up to?

Sienna 30 minutes ago:

Hi babes! I’m sorry you had to leave so abruptly. Can I bring you your things, and maybe get a cup of coffee?

***

Day 4 10:13 PM

Harry now:

Goodnight. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow on location!

***

On the afternoon of the first day back to filming I was startled out of my hard-won nap by a hard knock on my door. I knew, even before trudging over to the peephole, that it was Harry. Likely upset that I’d not been on set that morning. Or perhaps that I hadn’t replied to anyone’s texts or answered their calls.

“Open the fucking door, Matilda!” 

Even though I knew he wasn’t an angry person, the tone of his voice made me anxious. More because I didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to match his energy than because he could do or say anything to upset me. I considered not answering the door, but his relentless ruckus would surely alarm the neighbors.

My hands shook uncontrollably as I struggled to undo the chain on the door.

“Hey Harry…” my voice was hoarse and it scratched at my throat as I spoke.

The anger in his body dissipated as soon as his gaze landed on me, or whatever he could see of me through the small crack in the doorway. My own gaze, however, struggled to meet his. I alternated between looking in his direction and the direction of the floor. I knew that, even through the half open door, he could still see enough of my current state: the dark circles under my eyes, my hair unbrushed for days, the same pajamas I’d thrown on since my parents’ dinner. My only comfort was in the fact that, with my body blocking the doorway, he couldn’t see the state of my apartment.

We stood there, not speaking. His face signaling concern, pity, confusion. If I had any tears left in me I’m sure I’d have burst right then and there, but, the past few nights had taken all the emotion out of me. I’d now entered the pure numbness stage of my depressive episode. The hardest one to crawl out of. Because feeling something, even if it’s just complete despair, still enabled me to relate to the world albeit negatively. Feeling nothing, on the other hand, left me entirely alone.

“You weren’t at work today.” Harry had finally broken the silence.

“Yeah, umm, Fran said she’d take over for me and-”

“Yeah she told me.” He smiled, clearly out of discomfort. “I’m worried about you.” 

I shut my eyes, too embarrassed to let him look at me.

“And…maybe I’m right to be! I mean, no offense, Matilda, but look at you…”

“Harry, please. I didn’t come to work because I don’t want to-”

“May I come in?” he interrupted, his voice hopeful.

“No.”  I chopped that hope down by the legs.

“Let me in, Matilda.”

“That’s not even my real name.”

“Let me in. Now.”

I looked up at the ceiling, rolling my eyes, and moved out of the doorway letting him in.

He stood in the hall and looked around him, assessing the severity of the situation. I knew that he was putting on a front because no normal human being who sees my depression mess could remain unphased. Even I grimaced at it every time. 

The longer that Harry went without expressing concern or disgust the more my heart raced and my breath quickened. “Sorry about the mess. It’s not usually like this.”

“It’s fine.” He smiled.

“I mean, thanks, but it’s actually not fine.”

He said nothing, took out his phone, and stood there, scrolling on it for a moment; finally, he looked up from the screen and pocketed his phone again.

“When was the last time you slept?”

“I was actually napping just then…”

 He made his way over to the overflowing kitchen sink and salvaged a glass which he filled with water from the fridge full of leftover containers, and handed it to me. “Drink up.”

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing, Harry, but you should go…”

“I will be doing no such thing…where do you keep the trash bags around here?” he went back into the kitchen and rummaged through the cabinets. 

I ran over to him, exerting physical effort for the first time that week, and almost slipped, the two day old socks I’d been wearing sliding across the floor. 

“Please stop whatever this is and go home, Harry.” I placed both hands on the arm he’d used to open the overhead cabinet. “You can’t be here.”

“Yes, I can.”

“I’M CLINICALLY DEPRESSED HARRY!” He’d driven me to yelling, and I hated it more than anything. 

He said nothing in response but he kept his eyes on my face. Never losing the determination.

“What I’m trying to say is…you can’t fix this. Not with a glass of water and some recycling. I’m not some damsel in distress waiting for you to rescue me.”

“I promise not to rescue you.”

Harry shut the cabinet and took a hold of my two hands, planting them firmly around his neck. He then leaned over and wrapped his arms around me at the knees and shoulders, carrying me in his arms. “I know what this looks like, but I’m still not doing any rescuing.” He planted a quick kiss on my temple when he heard me giggle. 

Harry carried me into the bathroom as if over a threshold and set me down on the counter, immediately reaching for my bath items and running the water as if he’d lived here and done this before. While the bathtub filled, he stood in the space between my dangling legs and placed his hands on my waist squeezing and hugging me.

“I don’t want to fix you. I want to help you fix yourself.” He spoke into my ear before breaking away from the embrace to look at me. “C’mon missy. Into the bath you go.” He tapped my hips, hooking his fingers into the waistband of the leggings that had practically adhered to my skin and peeled them off. 

“Uh, n-no Harry. Gross!” I attempted to stop him. Suddenly extremely aware of…well everything. The surely disgusting body odors, the hairy legs, the dry skin. I did not want him to see any of it.

“You’re going to do as I say.” He simply ignored my warnings and continued to wordlessly undress me. 

I complained to him about how unsexy I felt letting his first time seeing me naked be with all this hair all over me. 

“It’s just body hair, Matilda…” He said matter of factly. “But if it bothers you so much, we’ll have to do something about it.”

“Not ‘we’” I objected immediately.

“You either do as I say, or I make you.”

I wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but I didn’t ask. Letting myself be moved around at his discretion. He helped me into the bubble bath he’d drawn, going into my closet and bringing back towels, a clean pair of underwear, and keeping his eyes to himself. He messed around in every corner of the bathroom until he’d recovered my shaving kit and placed it on the edge of the tub. 

“I’ll be right back.” he announced, disappearing for some time.

Harry had shut the door behind him causing the bathroom to grow warm and misty from the bathwater. Fog covered the bathroom mirror, so I could no longer see my reflection in it. I let myself sink deeper into the bath until it covered my knees and breasts completely. I leaned my head back and  closed my eyes, feeling the tension in my muscles melt away as if seeping out of me and into the scented bath water.  I have no idea how long I stayed like that.

“Don’t fall asleep on me now!” I heard Harry’s voice chuckling as he stood over me with a gentle smile. He sat at the edge of the tub and grabbed my shampoo bottle. “Coconut and Papaya” he read off the label. You know, I think Sienna’s dog has the same one!” he laughed, clearly pleased with his own joke.

He squirted some shampoo onto his hand and began to massage it gently into my hair. I’d opened my mouth to state that I was a grown woman, perfectly capable of washing my own hair, but he gave me a look. One that I had never seen before but that clearly said “remember what we said about doing as I say?” Soon, he moved on to scrubbing my body too, and then took great care and attention to rinse every inch of my body off watching the soap disappear and smiling at nothing in particular. His hands were gentle and precise. 

Something about the way that he handled me like a precious object felt terrifyingly intimate without being sexual. The way that his wet hands moved over my skin, he was getting to know every part of my body without getting any pleasure or gratification out of it. Yet another experience with Harry that I hadn’t shared with anyone else before.

Finally, when he took a brand new shaving razor out of it’s plastic container and asked me to raise my arm, I started to cry. It might have been this hydrating bath, or the glass of water he’d forced on me earlier, but my eyes had found more tears to shed. Even as I panted and my sniffles got louder, Harry continued to work the razor delicately down my body, making great work of making sure I was smooth and comfortable.

I wrapped my hand around his wrist as he attempted to move the razor between my legs. “You could hurt yourself!” he chided. 

“Harry, No. That’s too much.”

“What? Shaving your pussy?” he said bluntly, making me blush. “Oh, do you not normally shave it? Sorry. Okay.” he wiggled his wrist out of my firm grasp.

“I do, I just- please give me the razor.”

He paused for a moment looking at me and considering my request.

“Alright. I got some stuff to do anyway…” he handed it to me and left.

***

I walked out of the bathroom in the clothes Harry had laid out for me to find that he’d changed the bedding and cleaned my room.

“What the….?”

Harry was bent over my night stand, refilling my diffuser with my “sleeptime scent.”

He’d drawn the curtains and even brought me a water bottle.

“C’mon. Let’s tuck you in.” He fluffed up my pillows.

I hesitantly got into bed, Watching Harry’s movements around the room. Turning off the lights, he told me to have fun snoozing and began to walk out of the room when I begged him to stay.

“You want me here?” a grin forming on his face despite his best efforts to hide it.

“Just until I fall asleep, okay?”

He rushed over to my side, unable to contain himself, and quickly got under the covers with me, wrapping one arm around me and threading another hand through my hair as I laid my head on his shoulder.

***

We sat in my bed all afternoon, me glued to his side, venting and describing my worries over not getting to a stable place with my family before it’s too late, feeling that this instability inevitably takes a toll on my personal life, no matter how disconnected I am from my parents. At first, I felt nervous sharing my deepest, darkest thoughts with him. I made sure to preface everything with a long rant about not wanting to hear any “but it’s all in your head” or “but you’re better than you think you are” or “the future will work out just fine,” defensively informing him that if anxiety disorders could be cured by simply “deciding” not to be anxious anymore, the whole field of psychiatry wouldn’t exist. As time went on, however, I felt less and less like I needed to prove the realness of my mental illness to him, and I just went on speaking.

Harry, to his credit, did not interject once. He resorted to wiping any occasional tears away, echoing my nervous laughter whenever I made a self-deprecating joke or attempted to deflect, and squeezing me tighter to him if he sensed that I was apprehensive. “It’s okay” he’d whisper every time I mentioned being frustrated with my broken brain that it won’t let me have a “normal life,” or that I wished I could be a more functional human being. Finally, with my messy, discordant thoughts now out in the open, my brain felt empty and I fell asleep. Presumably in his arms.

I woke up as the sun was setting outside my window, Harry’s place in my bed empty.

“Hey sleepy girl” he looked up from the book he’d picked off my shelves when he saw me standing in the living room staring around me. He’d literally wiped every surface of the apartment clear of the last few days.

“Did you sleep okay?”

Still stunned at the state of everything, I could only nod and make my way over to the couch next to him.

Sure, he’d placed some items back where they didn’t belong, and arranged my throw pillows in ways that had never occurred to me, but he’d worked miracles. 

“You hungry? I made dinner.”

“Dinner?! Harry, that Mac and Cheese is probably expired!”

“You’re telling me! It tasted like grilled 3 day old garbage.” He laughed and stood up placing the book on the coffee table. “What? I got hungry! So, I went grocery shopping.”

I fired up the stove and started setting the dining table. I hurried over to help, and immediately saw that the entire kitchen had been restocked. Paper towels, detergent, crackers, frozen meals in the fridge,

“You’re depressed, yes? Meaning simple tasks can be overwhelming? You said that earlier…so I made extra! Put it in the fridge or the freezer or whatever. Then the next time you can’t be bothered to cook…TA DA! Food!”

“Harry, I-” I paused. Not knowing how to articulate the depths of my gratitude. A general feeling of care and gratefulness, in itself, was foreign to me. As a friend, he’d shown me more attention and generosity than anyone I’d ever met before him.  Then, he’d comforted me through the aftermath of a panic attack– something I’d never shared with anyone before– and as if all that weren’t enough,  now he was going above and being to carry this burden with me. My mind literally hit a wall. I did not understand why he was doing any of this. Or what I had done to deserve it. It made me want to bolt and disappear forever. And I felt guilty that my instinct is to, just, leave.

“Everything alright?” Harry leaned over to meet my eyes, holding a salad bowl in his hands.

“Why are you doing all this?” I blurted out, my town more confrontational than curious.

“We’ve been over this. I don’t expect you to wake up tomorrow all sunshine and rainbows cuz I cleaned your apartment or fed you a hot, three course meal. Now sit, let’s eat.”

***

After dinner and clean up, Harry dragged me out for a walk. Despite my best excuses about my stomach being full, he insisted that I see the outside world. I hated how right he was.

“You were right about what you said the other day.” I said, unsettling the comfortable silence.

Without missing a beat, Harry replied with “I’m right about a lot of things, Matilda, you’re gonna have to be more specific.”

“What you said about me being afraid of passionate relationships.”

Harry stopped in his tracks. I turned around as soon as I noticed that he was no longer walking beside me and saw the look of regret on his face. “I- I shouldn’t have said that. I was a dick to you. I didn’t– I didn’t know about all this. Your family, your mental health… You have every right to be-” 

“Just let me talk, ok?” 

“You’re right that I’m afraid, but not because passion scares me. I’m afraid to like it, depend on it, get used to it.” Harry’s apologetic demeanor turned into confusion as he listened.

I began to feel myself lose the burst of bravery that had compelled me to confess, so I looked away, urging him to resume walking. “Because, well, everyone leaves, Harry!” I spoke with my eyes glued to the pathway in front of us. “They all said they won’t in the beginning. Not just partners either. Friends too. Everyone says they wanna be there for you; mental health isn’t something to be ashamed of; asking for help is important. All which is TRUE, don’t get me wrong. I know that….But, the crying you’ve seen me do over the past couple of weeks? That’s pretty standard for me. And living in squalor- that’s a regular occurrence as well. Like, at least once a month. Sometimes more…I get these depressive episodes, and…This one was pretty mild. Cuz it’s predictable. I know what triggered it. Sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I just wake up and I feel like shit.”  I felt myself run out of breath so I paused. Harry said nothing, and I couldn’t stand the silence so I continued ranting. “And, you know, being in a relationship with someone who’s bound to be depressed most of the time can take a toll on people. And even if it doesn’t. I just– I worry. About reaching out to, or leaning on, the same person time and time again. I don’t wanna be a burden to the people that make me feel comfortable enough to share this stuff with. So, I– end up trying to rely on other coping mechanisms, and they think I’m pulling away.”

We turned around, heading back to my apartment.

I mustered the remains of my courage and glanced at Harry with the corner of my eye. He was looking thoughtfully into the distance, processing what I had divulged.

“May I say something?” He finally asked.

“Sure.”

“ I hear you. I won’t pretend that I understand, cuz I don’t. And I know I never will. But I hear what you’re saying.” He held the door open for me as we walked back into the building. “I have a counter argument though. With all due respect, Matilda –and I do mean this; I don’t ever want to trivialize your struggle with my ignorance– but I don’t think it’s your right to make my decisions for me. Why would you let ME decide what I can and can’t handle?”

“I don’t wanna lose you.” I unlocked the door and let us into the apartment.

“Who says you have to lose me?”

I shook my head. At what, I wasn’t sure. “Don’t wanna bring you down with me.” My eyes began to sting with tears.

Harry grabbed his coat off the hanger by the door and felt around his pockets to make sure he had his wallet, keys, and phone all on him.

He walked closer to me closing the gap between us and brought his hands up to my face. I closed my eyes, ready for his lips to touch mine, but he surprised me by kissing my cheek instead. “It’s getting late. Work tomorrow. I should go. You should go to bed too. Text me to let me know that you’re in bed in a bit.” He turned around aiming for the door.

“Hey Harry?”

“Yes, Darling?”

“I like it when you tell me what to do.”

He turned back around to face me. The look in his eyes was wild.

[ladyinwriting18]

Burden Me (Charlie Barber x Reader)

Summary: Being in a long distance relationship isn't easy. Especially late at night when you've slipped into a depressive episode. Luckily your boyfriend Charlie knows just what to say to make it better.

Words: 1,874

Warnings: Use of term Daddy, Depressive episode/anxiety attack, Negative self talk, Other than that nothing but fluff & comfort.

It’s late when you call. You know this and it worsens your guilt, but you’ve run out of options.

You went through all the self-soothing steps.

Took deep breaths.

Counted to ten.

Named five things you can see, four you can hear, three you can touch, two you can smell, and one you can taste.

However, in moments like this, nothing is as helpful as hearing the voice of someone who makes you feel loved.

“H-Hello? Sweetheart is that you?”

Charlie’s voice is thick and groggy from sleep.

You’ve woken him.

Stupid bitch.

You choke on a sob, unable to hold it in.

Charlie is on high alert now. You can hear it from the way his breathing changes and the sound of him grunting to sit up. He says your name–sternly but not unkind.

It’s his worried ‘Dad voice’.

You’ve heard him use it countless times when talking to Henry.

He repeats himself, snapping your attention back to the present.

“Are you safe right now?”

You nod your head with a whimper, forgetting you’re on the phone.

“I can’t see whether or not you’re nodding your head. Can you give me a verbal answer?”

You open your mouth and take a shuddering breath as fresh tears roll down your face. “I’m safe.”

Charlie lets out a sigh of relief. In your mind you can picture his shoulders relaxing on the exhale.

“Good.”

You can practically feel the tension leave his body.

“And good girl for answering.”

You can only manage to sniffle in acknowledgement.

“What’s going on over there? Why isn’t my little rabbit sleeping? Did you have a bad dream?”

If only it was just a nightmare.

You shake your head and cry into the phone.

Your tears pool against the screen of your cell phone. You can feel the dampness on your cheek.

Some part of your brain scolds you for being weak. While another reminds you that he still can’t see you.

“Sweetheart? Hey, come on now. Focus on me. Only me, okay?”

“N-Not a nightmare.” You force out past your tears.

“Shhh, that’s alright. Then what's making my girl upset?”

His voice is so soothing–so loving.

You want to slip it on like a warm pair of pajamas that are fresh from the dryer.

He’s waiting for an answer. You know he is. It feels awful leaving him waiting after you so rudely woke him.

Why did he even bother keeping you around when you were such a—

“Burden. I’m a burden.”

“What?” He genuinely sounds shocked, as if you had said something outlandish and not something your brain is telling you is a fact.

“Sweetheart, why would you say a thing like that?”

“It’s the truth!” You cry but instantly feel shame for being so loud in the middle of the night.

“It’s not.”

The stern voice is back.

You hang your head and start to wish you hadn’t reached out. At least then he wouldn’t be so bothered by you. You don’t know what else to say. There are too many negative thoughts swirling around in your head.

They all point out different things.

Flaws.

Times when you’ve made mistakes.

Past hurts.

All together they muddle to a single residual thought….

You.

Are.

A.

Burden.

So much so that you don’t deserve the space you’re currently taking up. Your very existence is one that needs forgiveness. You want to disappear just to spare the people in your life from having to deal with you.

“Are you safe?”

He re-asks the same question, but now it has a different meaning.

You open your mouth and start to say ‘yes’, but Charlie cuts you off.

“Yes but are your thoughts safe?”

God damnit.

“Less so.” You mumble, praying he understands because you’re too embarrassed to explain.

“That’s alright. Lets try and wipe some of those nasty thoughts away, okay?”

His words soften you like butter.

What had you done to deserve this man?

You’re certain you don’t and it’s only a matter of time until he realizes that.

No.

We’re getting rid of the nasty thoughts, not feeding them.

You make a small sound in agreement.

“Good girl. First, where are you right now?”

You rub at your cheeks with the palm of your hand. The skin feels dry from the tear tracks.

“Sitting up in bed.”

“Mmh, can you lay down for me?” 

You move to do as he asks. The moment your back rests against the mattress, all the tension in your spine dissolves. You let out a sigh, your eyes fluttering closed at the sheer release.

“That’s it. Doesn’t that feel a little better?” He coos warmly.

I can almost feel his breath against the shell of my ear.

Almost, but not enough.

“I wish you were here.”

It's the first full sentence you’re capable of uttering since the start of the phone call.

“I wish I was too.” The remorse oozes from him but Charlie is quick to shake it off. “But we’ll be together tomorrow. It’s only a few more hours and a short plane ride until you’re back in my arms.”

It's hard to argue but in your current state of mind you manage to find a way.

“Yeah, as long as nothing goes wrong.” You grumble low but Charlie still hears.

“Nothing is going to go wrong. Do you want to know why nothing is going to go wrong?”

Might as well take the bait.

“Why?”

“Because Daddy says so.”

Your face feels hot for a very different reason than the fact you had just been crying.

“You….You’re not playing fair.”

He has the audacity to chuckle. “You’re right. I’m not, but it did get you to stop crying.”

Oh.

He's right.

But you still don’t know what to say.

Luckily Charlie continues.

“Do you think you can tell me what started all this? Did something trigger you?”

You inhale deeply, wanting to stay as calm as possible. You begin by telling him about the hardships of the day, the things that had gone wrong to steadily build up the anxiety inside of you, and how that spiraled into the negative mind space that you’re currently in.

You’re proud of yourself for only getting choked up once or twice during your explanation.

But when you end your story by apologizing, the tears restart back up again.

“I’m sorry I called so late. I’m sorry I’m bothering you. You should be sleeping but instead you’re listening to me be sad! I’m sorry I’m so needy and that I need a lot of reassurance. I-I….”

You’re openly sobbing now.

“I don’t deserve you. I-I don’t deserve anyone. I’m just a burden. My wants, my needs, my feelings they’re….they’re all too much! I’m too much.”

You can hear Charlie shouting your name over your tears. He attempts to shush and soothe while regaining your attention, but your sobs increase to the point that they wrack your body.

“I’m sorry, Charlie! I’m so sorry!”

“ENOUGH!”

The rest of your words die within your throat. Charlie only yelled when necessary or when overcome with anger. Which means he rarely shouted at you.

You whimper out his name, ready to beg for forgiveness for pushing too far. You don’t get the chance before he continues.

“Burden me. Do you understand? If you truly think you’re a burden then I want you to burden me, lean on me, come to me for help. I love you. I don’t want you to face anything alone. Whether it’s good things or bad.”

“But–”

“No buts, little rabbit.” His tone is softer now—sounding more playful when using your pet name. “Would you want me to face my problems alone?”

“No….”

“Exactly, so no more apologizing for feeling sad or for needing to call. I’m here. I would rather you wake me up ten times a night than you cry alone.”

He’s almost too good to be true but it’s still hard for you to believe you deserve it.

“I….I just feel so guilty.”

“For what? Being human and needing help?”

He got you there.

You were only human but….shouldn’t you take accountability for your emotions? Shouldn’t you be able to solve your own problems?

“Sweetheart, I can hear you overthinking again.” He teases.

His smugness makes you want to punch him in the face. But instead, you sigh. You’re too emotionally drained to fight back or be a brat.

“It’s hard to not overthink.”

Charlie hums sympathetically. “I know little rabbit. I know. But try and listen to Daddy right now and not your brain.”

He pauses, giving you a moment to interject if you needed to. When you don’t, he continues.

“I know you tend to beat yourself up when you need to reach out to others for help. You’re an independent individual but you needing comfort or needing to talk things out doesn’t invalidate that. You are still just as self-efficient even when you need support. Do you want to know why?”

“Because Daddy says so?”

Your cheeky comment has him laughing. One of his true laughs that brings out the crinkles around the corners of his eyes. The sound alone has you smiling. If he had said nothing else on this phone call, his laughter would still be enough to clear away the dark clouds surrounding you.

“No, my silly girl. Because knowing you need help and being brave enough to ask for it is being self-efficient.”

You want to believe him. You want to believe him so badly.

You guess you’ll start by trying.

“I’ll try my best to start believing that.”

“That’s all I can ask for.” He praises softly.

You find yourself blinking back tears. “You’re too good to me.”

He immediately shushes you, “None of that, I give what I get. From the moment we met you’ve shown me nothing but kindness. I plan to continue doing the same.”

You’re overcome with emotions, but no longer the dark sticky ones that cling to you like sludge. These are brighter emotions—hopeful and healing.

“I love you, Charlie Barber.”

“I love you too, sweet girl.”

You breathe out, a calmness blanketing you like freshly fallen snow. It’s comfortably quiet between the two of you. An accomplishment that you’ve only achieved in this relationship with Charlie. Never before had you felt comfortable sitting in silence with any other partner.

“How many more hours?” Even you are shocked by the own sleepiness in your voice.

“Don’t worry about the number of hours. Just come home. Nothing else matters. Your only focus is getting here so I can come meet you at the airport gate and kiss you until you’re giggling for me to stop.”

You do in fact giggle, giddy off the thought of his kisses.

“I want so many kisses, Daddy.”

“You’ll have them all and then some, sweetheart.”

You giggle again but it turns into a yawn. Your sorrow from earlier fading faster and faster as exhaustion seeps in.

“Tell me all the things we’ll do once I get to New York?”

Charlie chuckles but agrees.

“Alright, but after that my little rabbit is going to get some rest.”

You do just that, and let his deep baritone words lull you to sleep.

[captain039]

PART 8

The gods with us

Moon knight x reader

Warnings: Spoilers, cursing, violence, god and goddess things, anxiety and depression, mental issues, eventual smut, tension, intimacy, age gap, angst, PTSD, trauma

Last part <-

“Hiya” Steven said confused glancing to his door. His face went surprised and you looked too. Your face fell, you had broken all his locks, a blue piece of tap broken too.

“I’m so sorry” you walked over to it looking closely at the damage.

“I didn’t- I really need to calm down with my strength, did I have that much before?” You were talking to yourself when suddenly you were pulled in a hug.

“Oh” you said but hugged back.

“Good to see you too kid” you heard Marc. You sighed relaxing as you closed your eyes and enjoyed the moment. Your heart hammered stupidly and your stomach fluttered. You pulled back giving him a smile. You hadn’t stopped thinking about him since what happened it had been a week maybe? Time seemed strange now.

“I didn’t mean to ruin your door” you muttered and he chuckled.

“I’ll get it fixed don’t worry” he said forcing it close again.

“Welcome to Stevens shit hole” he said.

“Hey that’s not very nice yeah? I have books and Gus, some food” Steven trailed off.

“Whose Gus?” You asked and he lit up.

“Right original Gus died and Marc tried to replace him sneakily but I caught onto him, this is Gus 1” he said pointing to one of the gold fish.

“Wouldn’t the original Gus be Gus one?” Tou asked.

“No he had one fine so he was 0.5 Gus” Steven explained.

“That’s Gary” he said and you smiled saying hello to them.

“I tried to call” Steven muttered and you stood up straight.

“Or text, um-“ he sighed rubbing the back of his head.

“There’s someone else we’ve been tryna figure it out” he admitted but you already knew. You nodded, it wasn’t your place to give away Jake.

“We black out on weekends, but always wake up the way we fell asleep” he shrugged.

“No communication?” You asked and he shook his head.

“Maybe they just need time” you shrugged unsure of how these things worked.

“I should’ve called though” he sighed.

“Steven it’s ok” you held his arm rubbing it gently. His eyes were doe as he looked to you sweetly. He had a crooked smile that you missed seeing. His stomach grumbled though and the man froze, his cheeks went red and you stifled a laugh.

“Oh god” Steven said embarrassed holding his arms over his stomach as you laughed.

“I’m so sorry” he said.

“It’s ok!” You giggled.

“Do you have any food?” You asked and he shrugged.

“Wanna go get some?” You were surprised by your confidence in the question.

“If you want to” you added quickly.

“Yeah, yeah that’d be nice” he smiled.

“I gotta get dressed though” he said shyly.

“Oh yeah, sorry um” you went to the door.

“Don’t rush, take your time” you smiled closing the door.

You leant against the wall, heart hammering in your chest, a stupid smile on your face.

He finally came out tugging his door close making you grimace.

“We can go by the locksmith too” you said.

“Yeah might needed” he said turning to you. You smiled at his still just woken up look.

“What?” He asked and you just shook your smiling still.

You went to the first small cafe you found and sat down. Steven sat a little awkwardly like he normally did, it was adorable. You picked what you wanted and asked Steven what he wanted.

“I can order” you said and he nodded looking to the menu.

“I’ll just have a coffee with almond milk” he said and you frowned.

“No food?” You asked.

“No vegan options” he said.

“Oh, I didn’t know, we can go somewhere else, do you know a place where they do?” You asked closing your menu.

“We don’t-“ he struggled with his words.

“You’re hungry! I can’t let you starve” you huffed.

“Oh shut up” he said looking in the reflection of the table.

“What he say?” You chuckled.

“You’re right” he muttered and you grinned.

“Because I am” you grinned taking his menu and putting them back, apologising to the waitress.

“Where’s a place?” You asked as he stood.

“There’s a restaurant nearby” he said and you nodded. You were surprised with how open and relaxed you felt, you were talking a lot on the way there.

“I’m sorry if I’m babbling” you said suddenly and he frowned looking to you.

“No, no, I like listening to you talk” he said before flushing. You went red too calling your heart as you went inside.

“Just let me know if I bore you” you said sitting down.

“You won’t bore me” he smiled to which you smiled back.

“Ok” you said softly as the waiter came over.

Lunch was good, you talked he talked and you felt relaxed, it was nice not fighting a mad man and dealing with Egyptian gods and goddesses.

“Marc wants to talk to you” Steven said.

“Oh, yeah no problem” you said as he body tensed. It was odd to watch but it’s what he did.

“Hey” you said as he sat different.

“Hi” he said looking at the salad in front of him.

“Don’t judge him” you huffed.

“I’m not!” He fought.

“You wanted to speak?” You asked, you figured it was important.

“Just wanted to talk” he shrugged and you tilted your head.

“How have you been?” He asked and you faltered.

“I-“ your mind reeled back suddenly like reality hadn’t kicked in. Your memory went back to the fight, what happened, the men you killed….

Your stomach dropped and you felt sick.

“Excuse me” you said quickly rushing to the toilet. You threw up, coughing violently afterwards as you began to shake. It hadn’t caught up with you felt your heart racing and you began to panic. Images flashed by the men on the ground, you helped, you killed them. You’ve killed people. You held a hand over your mouth tears in your eyes. You heard yelling outside before someone came in. Your name was called by Marc and you whimpered a bit.

“Y/n?” He stood outside your stall.

“Sweetheart let me in” he said voice surprisingly soft. You wiped your face, cleaned the mess and flushed the toilet. You unlocked the door and it opened. You didn’t meet his eyes as he knelt in front of you.

“It hadn’t caught up?” He whispered and you shook your head letting out a soft sob. He nodded sitting down pulling you to him. You were in his lap, head against his chest as you shook. His hand rubbed up and down your back gently as you cried.

“I’m sorry” you muttered knowing you stank.

“Don’t apologise” he said softly.

“I didn’t mean to trigger this” he sighed as you clutched your shirt.

“You’re gonna hurt your fingers” his free hand rested over yours, slowly prying them off.

“That’s it” he said as you relaxed your hand.

“I killed them” you whispered and he tensed.

“They- they’re dead” you muttered.

“They were the wrong doers, bad men” he said.

“Nobody deserves to die though” you whimpered.

“No, no they don’t” he muttered.

“The feelings, they’ll lessen, but it does stay with you” he admitted and you closed your eyes tightly. Images only flashed by and you opened your eyes struggling with your breathing.

“Hey, hey” he lifted you up gently so you looked at him.

“Focus on me, deep breaths, follow my breathing” he had cupped your cheeks as you felt panic flood you again. You did as he said shakily, trying not to breathe on his face.

“There you go” he whispered nodding making you nod too.

“Excuse me?” You heard someone speak. A waitress came in and you looked to her.

“You ok Miss?” She asked softly and you didn’t answer.

“Panic attack” Marc answered and she nodded.

“I’m sorry for yelling at your staff” he added.

“I understand” she smiled softly as you laid back down on his chest. His heart beat was calming as the woman left. His body tensed and he stiffened more.

“You alright?” You heard Steven ask softly.

“No” you replied weakly.

“Yeah” he sighed still holding you.

“How ‘bout we get out of here, I’ll take you home” he said softly again and you nodded.

“Can you stand up?” He asked as you lifted your head. You nodded slowly, getting off of him and standing with shaky limbs. He held you and was your support as you stood, your grip on his arms tight.

“I gotta pay the nice lady then we can go yeah?” He said and you nodded. You walked back out people glancing and whispering. Steven kept his hold on you as he went to the cashier.

“Just on card please” he said and the woman nodded.

“I’m sorry” you said to her and she smiled softly.

“It’s alright, you go home and rest up ok?” She said and you nodded appreciative of her kindness.

The bus ride seemed forever, you were pressed against his side holding his arm. Your head leant on his shoulder, you held him tightly afraid he’d disappear or you would do something. You flinched at the loud ring of a bell, Steven hushing you Instantly.

You were finally walking to your front door, Steven knocking lightly while you hugged yourself. His hand rested on the small of your back as your mum opened the door.

“Y/n?” Her voice was worried as she walked to you.

“What happened?” She asked Steven.

“Bad panic attack” he said.

“Oh sweetheart” she said unsure to hug you. You felt tears in your eyes again as she finally pulled you in.

“Oh my baby, you’re ok” she cooed.

“Thank you” she said to Steven who nodded.

“Why don’t you head to your room, get changed and in bed ok?” She said softly and you nodded heading inside.

“Steven” you called.

“Yeah love?” He said.

“Do you-“ you struggled looking at your mum.

“Come in” she said to him and he did. You went to your room, peeled off your clothes and shoes, took off your bra and put on an over sized shirt and sweats. You sat in bed, hiking the covers up to your neck as you heard soft talking outside. Steven came in, his posture different though so you assumed it was Marc.

“You gonna be alright here?” He asked and you nodded as he sat down.

“Try to distract yourself for now, I’ll come back tomorrow to see how you are ok?” He added and you nodded. A sigh left his lips as he stood, leaning over though, hand on your neck as he pulled you closer. He kissed your forehead and you closed your eyes tightly. He pulled away though, your eyes opening as you saw your mother in the doorway. His body tensed going back to Steven as he gave you one last look and left.

“You wanna talk or have a rest?” She asked.

“Rest” you muttered and she nodded. She closed your windows and curtains, turned on your face before going to close your door.

“Leave it open slightly, please” you said and she nodded.

You laid down on your side flinching when you felt something on the bed. It began to purr and you rolled over seeing a panther. You began to cry again snuggling into the softness of its fur.

“I’m sorry” you heard Bastet whisper.

Next part ->

Taglist

@mymentalbreakdownsblog

@katkirishima

@rosaren2498

@daddysfavoritesexkitten

@officialholtagua

@rysguy06

[lokeanwelcomingcommittee]

Hello!

Do you have any tips for a beginner who wants to honour Loki, but has anxieties and insecurities that get in the way? (I have anxiety and depression if that helps).

So, I want to honour Loki, but I am terribly worried that They do not like me. Any time I do something for them or I look in to Them, I feel guilty and like I should just stop and leave Them alone. I have tried reaching out to Them before and had an interesting experience; I felt like someone was “playfully” creeping up behind me to scare me. That feeling held for a minute and then disappeared completely. I have not felt a presence since, even though I have reached out again since then, so I have stopped out of worry. I do feel that my guilt and worry comes from the fact I have not always been a very kind or good person to others; I have made awful choices and mistakes that have hurt people I loved amongst others. The most recent thing was last year and that broke me, so now I am trying to do better and break bad patterns and learned behaviours (which is freaking hard, but I am hoping therapy will aid me in this).

Any help or advice is greatly appreciated..! I’m sorry that this is a lot, please do not stress if you are unable to answer for any reason. Thank you, - Pickle, They/Them/Theirs🐛

Hey there, Pickle. No need to apologize at all on your end and sorry it did take a bit to get to this on ours. Here's a mushroom for your caterpillar as well; I always think those go well together. 🍄

One thing I'm gonna start with just in the hopes of maybe taking an option off of the anxiety buffet is that you haven't actually gotten any negative feedback. I know it might feel disheartening or like a negative response after the first experience you describe, but as we've mentioned in a recent post, that is... actually pretty common, and even if it wasn't it's certainly not a requirement, so while I realize it's probably not a magic bullet on the anti-anxiety front, in my experience no news is good or at least business-as-usual news, and to kind of segue to the next point, it sounds like it might be understandable.

I say that because anxiety and depression do have the unfortunate effect where it's often hard to communicate with deities (however you may do it) or even just be in the right frame of mind for worship, offerings, etc. I don't want to necessarily assume anything about you specifically just because I know this sort of thing presents differently in different folks, but as someone else with both of those I know it's caused me to get stuck in vicious cycles of feeling unworthy/not "good" enough or like everything is criticism or a terrible omen similar to those posts, and of course those thoughts add to the worry, cycle repeats, etc. It's again not a magic bullet, but sometimes reminding myself that these feelings aren't limited to the gods or my practice is strangely reassuring-- it kind of helps me realize I probably haven't personally offended anyone, everything is just harder to relate to during those times.

Sometimes, as pointed out in that last linked post, the thing that helps the most is just stepping back until you're in a better place, so if that's something you decide may be beneficial it's nothing to feel guilty about, and while of course we can't speak on a god's behalf I think a lot of us had kind of on-off starts with this sort of thing for a number of reasons, myself included, and returning later was not an issue. With that said, I do want to stress that Loki does not discriminate based on mental illness or life circumstances, and re: what you've mentioned about guilt-- I mean, the mother of monsters, and indeed this entire rogue's gallery that are the Norse gods, have made mistakes. And it sounds like not only are you working on that, you're going in with a fairly grounded and realistic attitude and getting assistance with it, which I hope is helping and continues to be helpful, and hopefully that guilt and worry subsiding will be a positive result of this. With that said, to go back to where we began, if you'd still like to do things to honor Loki, you absolutely can, and I'm going to link a number of links and resources for you at the end of this post that cover anything from suggestions for ways to do that with some low-spoons days options, different ways of communicating that you might not have thought of/considered that may work better for you, and some other possibly helpful advice. Definitely don't feel obligated to do all of it or feel like there's any rush to even read all of it; it's all just there for possibly helpful reference if you need it.

With that said, the main advice I can give is please take care of yourself, and while I know it's easier said than done, keep in mind that you've got a lot going on right now, and while that doesn't "disqualify" or make you unworthy or objectionable or anything similar, it is definitely a situation that can make communicating and/or trying to start a new relationship/make a big life change difficult, and taking the time to get that situation more manageable is more than understandable and not something you should feel guilty about. "Challenging" is one thing, but if you're continually getting hurt it's worth considering, especially because you can always change that in the future.

It feels like nothing I do is enough or that I'm doing everything wrong. What might be happening?

Can Loki feel what I'm feeling/does he like me?

In the absence of any obvious signs to the contrary, assume you’re good

If you've upset Loki or asked him something he doesn't like, would he let you know?

re: doubt and anxiety

Another anxiety post

Loki and depression (with a link to another good post)

Polytheism While Dealing With Mental Illness

Loki and mistakes

On taking a break

Scheduling suggestions

Suggestions for connecting with Loki

A similar suggestion post

Self care devotional suggestions

In any case, I hope some of this is helpful to you and that things improve for you. I know things probably aren't fantastic right now, it does sound like you've made some wise choices in terms of changing that, and I wish you the best of luck-- for what it's worth, you're definitely not alone on the anxiety/depression front.

- Mod V

[awhkacey]

hello, I am also in a period of depression like you and anxiety too so I will tell my story and I hope you can help me. Once upon a time there was a girl who was born 4 months early, the doctors thought it was a miracle but I was missing half of 2 fingers on my hands and feet. You know the kids, when you're different you're not accepted and that's what happened. My parents raised me as a boy, and so girls didn't want to be friends with me besides my fingers, so I learned to be alone and to be accepted in a group I always say yes to everything. if I know that people are making fun of me. I don't like school because of that and I repeated 2 times too because I had trouble living in this environment. Then arrived at the age of 12 I had my first period (without knowing what it was), you know the hair grows and all that stuff, and I wanted to be so perfect like in the pubs that I shaved every day then 2 years later my skin turned black and last year when we were swimming I wore a swimsuit and we could see the black part so someone took a picture to share it with the school and it has become a rumor until now. and i stank in my armpits too like i didn't know yet that the alcohol in deodorant made me get out smells that people can't stand and that was really the time when i felt dirty and i hated my body (d I still hate him so much) So my daily life boils down to seeing people make fun of me and make me understand that I'm disgusting and that I'm a whore, I don't have any friends and my parents don't understand the situation and do not try to help me, I developed fear of people, fear of eating in front of people. I tried a psychologist but my parents preferred to stop. I don't know how the law could help me , and idk why I continue to live with that situation but I really need your help please . CAN YOU respond me as fast as possible

hey, bby<3

i’m sorry to hear what you have been through. no one should go through that. i’m always here if you wanna talk. my inbox is always open.

and ofc i’ll try to help. i was in similar circumstance when it came to school, it was a horrible environment. and it made my depression go📉📉. But then i was able to manifest being homeschooled and with everything said before and being homeschooled really helped my mental health. So if that’s something that could help you and your mental health, i definitely recommend doing it.

Hmm and with everything else i think revision would be a good option. if you want me to tell you more about revision, let me knows. Revision is revising a situation to have it play out the way you desire. But i recommend taking your time, have a breather, and when you’re ready focus on your writing out everything about your life you hate. flip the piece of paper round and write ‘the new story’ of your life. Revise everything to pan out the way you desire,write everything you wished happened instead and believe it to be true. and when you get reminded of the old story. flip your thought and read out the new script. THE OLD STORY NEVER EXISTED!

Then, self concept. Change the names you call yourself and start loving your body. And start realising your power.

Instead of calling yourself disgusting call yourself beautiful, pretty, handsome, whatever you prefer.

instead of focusing on what you hate about your body, focus on what you love about yourself.

i’ll post some affirmations on self love, depression, and anxiety for you to repeat to yourself. i hope that helps.

if there’s anything else you want help with, my inbox is open x

remember: YOU ARE THE GOD OF YOUR REALITY, you get to decide what you do and don’t go through. and never forget you are a magnificent and stunning being. doubt doubt yourself, bby<3

[spencers-renaissance]

Rain is a Chance to be Touched Ch.1

this arid world has turned my deep heart dry

This is the first chapter in my new ongoing hotchreid fic! Please click here for the fic summary, full tags, trigger warnings, more information etc.

Chapter Summary: follows S5E1 and Spencer's depression and disordered thinking is introduced.

TW: depression, disordered thinking, loneliness, the events of s5e1 (guns and knives)

Word Count: 3.4k

RCT Masterlist // Main Masterlist // Read on AO3

SPENCER

"She simply said this arid world has turned her deep heart dry, there was just one way she knew of to finally feel like she was free, and it was 1400 feet beneath the cold and stormy sea." — Erin Hanson

Spencer’s entire body feels heavy as he drags himself into work, and it’s not exactly a good sign when he can’t even find the energy to press the button for the right floor; he just stares pitifully at the array of numbers as if the elevator will read his mind and resolve the issue for him. Eventually, he brings himself to move his finger the short distance, cold metal colliding with cold flesh, and the doors shudder close, catapulting him up several storeys towards his fate.

Some might call the emotions Spencer’s experience typical burnout, far too common in the FBI and even more so in units that deal directly with horrific crime on the regular, but he knows it’s more than that. His entire life is operating in a minor key, he’s functioning entirely on auto-pilot, and chunks of his day are a blur, almost impossible to recall. He knows he’s depressed. Knowing such a fact, however, does little to cure the actual problem. He has no idea what to do with information like this except bottle it up and shove it as far down as possible while pretending as much as possible that absolutely everything is fine.

Emily and Derek are laughing about something as he approaches their group of desks. Only weeks ago he would’ve been crushed when they don’t so much as look over to say hello, but now he’s glad to not have to fake a smile, invent a story to tell about his weekend, pretend he’s not currently being held together with slowly peeling sellotape.

Instead, he focuses on feeling grateful that no one’s commented on him arriving a whole hour later than he used to as he unpacks his messenger bag. It’s not like it’s his fault he can’t pull his exhausted body out of bed in the morning, but since he’d rather not disclose such sorry information and finding an excuse is way too much effort, spending the morning in solitude seems the only option.

He doesn’t really understand how he’s gone from being a genuinely happy person, thick as thieves with everybody on the team, to this. It’s almost as though somebody’s cut the rope tying him to the others and now he’s drifting away, sinking without everyone else’s buoyancy to keep him afloat. He can see them all still tied together, barely seeming to notice their drowning team member, clearly not missing his presence.

This misery over his inevitable isolation, though, is his own fault: he can’t believe he let himself forget his place. He’s useful, good to keep around for his intelligence, his reading speed, his problem-solving skills, but it doesn’t go beyond that. Spencer is not friendship material. And he certainly isn’t relationship material.

The day starts off slow, everyone burying themselves in their paperwork, but Spencer finishes it far too quickly for it to really serve as much of a distraction. Depressingly, it’s still miles slower than he’s used to. Since his pile of consults seems too exhausting to even look at, he decides another coffee is very much in order.

“Hey, Spence,” JJ says happily as soon as he pushes his way into the breakroom. She’s leaning casually against the counter as she drinks her coffee, reading through what looks like case notes at the same time.

“Hi,” he says, trying for a smile but he knows there’s no way he could possibly match her relaxed grin. Instead of trying to converse, he just heads straight for the coffee machine, fixing his eyes on the steady stream of coffee pouring into his mug already piled high with sugar.

“You alright?” JJ asks, sounding a little suspicious. Not concerned, Spencer notes, just suspicious.

“Hmm?” He looks up and catches her eye before deciding he should probably answer verbally. “Yeah, yeah I’m good.”

“Are you sure? You’ve been acting a bit off the past few weeks.”

Spencer sighs. Maybe this is an opportunity to actually communicate his feelings. He doubts JJ will be able to help but really he’d just like a bit of comfort: he’s in so much pain that a hug would feel really nice right now. And besides Penelope, she’s probably the team member he’s most comfortable with. If he’s going to share with anybody, it should be JJ.

“I’ve been having a bit of a hard time, I guess,” he admits, looking up as his left-hand fidgets on the hot ceramic side of his coffee mug. He resents how vulnerable his voice sounds, he’s giving far too much of himself over to hands he’s not sure he can trust, but there’s nothing he can do about that now.

“Really?” JJ sounds surprised. Spencer recognises the tone as that of anyone who has a certain perspective on him realising that he also has feelings alongside his intelligence, and it hurts. “I’m sorry, Spence.”

Spencer just presses his lips into a thin line and nods awkwardly in thanks.

“I mean… at least you’re not going through what Hotch is,” she offers, completely unhelpfully. “He’s still trying to cope with his divorce and isn’t seeing Jack as much as he used to. Derek was almost killed by the Reaper just a few months ago, Emily only recently lost a childhood friend — I mean, the whole team has been through a lot. Keep your chin up.”

She smiles at him, patting him on the shoulder, before leaving the break room and heading back to her office, leaving Spencer standing in the middle of the room like an idiot. He wants to shout that he was literally poisoned with anthrax only a month ago, if they’re tallying bad things happening as a method of tracking who has the right to be miserable. The others might be going through a lot, that’s true, but it doesn’t lessen any of the pain thudding in his chest and stirring in his stomach.

As he walks back to his desk, he realises he’s learned one thing: opening up = not a good idea.

As completely fucking miserable as he might be, there’s exactly one person in this world who doesn’t deserve to be burdened with any of it, so he carefully tucks it away in his pockets and plasters on the mask he’d perfected so many years ago. It might be a little rusty, after all, it’s been little used in recent years, but it works just as well as it used to do when he pushes the door open to Penelope’s office.

“I bring blueberry muffins,” he says as cheerfully as he can muster, and something inside him does warm as Penelope’s face lights up, squealing a little as she reaches her arms out eagerly, making grabby hands at the paper bag he’s holding.

“Oh, you have no idea how much I love you,” she moans, keen to rip the bag open as he pulls up a chair next to hers.

“I think I do,” Spencer chuckles, and it’s one of the only genuine reactions he’s given in months, “mostly because you tell me every day.”

“Mm, that’s right,” she concedes through a mouthful of warm muffin, pointing a finger at his chest. “I love you even more than I love coding.”

“That’s a lot,” Spencer says, trying for serious but he can’t stop a fond smile slipping across his face.

Penelope swallows her rather large bite of blueberry muffin and passes him his one. “It is,” she says. “How are you, anyway? You look tired, poor baby.”

Spencer looks down for a moment, schooling his expression for a second before he forces himself to look back up at her. “Yeah, I didn’t… didn’t sleep well last night, I guess.” He tries for a reassuring smile but he knows it’s more of a grimace.

Penelope’s face immediately morphs into one of grave concern. Spencer knows that that’s just the way she is, melodrama and fierce protectiveness is virtually her brand at this point, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t any less agonising to see, or the anxiety of being found out any less paralysing. He decides not to give her any room to actually address it.

“I’ll be fine, Penelope, don’t worry,” he says, turning away to brush some muffin crumbs off the desk and into his hand, purely so he doesn’t have to attempt another pathetic smile. “A good night’s sleep tonight will fix me right up.”

“Are you sure?” she asks, still looking far too worried for Spencer’s liking.

“Of course, Pen.” He feels sick at lying to her, but he has no idea how to broach any of the tumultuous emotions raging inside of him, especially after JJ shut him down so brutally. “It’s only a bad nights’ sleep.”

He’s saved from her inevitable continued line of questioning by Emily poking her head round the door and asking for Spencer’s opinion on a consult.

While getting out of bed in the morning might be an almost impossible task at the moment, the idea of getting into it at night seems rather depressing, really. That’s probably the reason he’s still at the office, despite the time nearing 8 o’clock and exhaustion settling into every muscle fibre of his being. It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that it’s just a little more time in close proximity to one Aaron Hotchner.

Of course, he’d had to accept the fact that he was maybe, just a little bit in love with his boss a long time ago. He just refuses to admit that he’s this embarrassing about it. Perhaps staying late to spend more time with someone you like this much wouldn’t be so weird if there was a reasonable chance of conversation — if he ever even saw him — but there isn’t even that: Spencer sits and works quietly at his desk, Aaron sits and works quietly in his office.

Today, though, today his lingering finally pays off.

Aaron is on his way back from the photocopier when he stops by Spencer’s desk. He doesn’t see him coming, though, is the thing: he has no time to try and make himself look even a smidge less miserable or to school his surprised yet utterly lovesick expression.

“Won’t you want to be heading off soon, Reid?” he asks, clearly curious as to why Spencer remains at his desk when there’s no real work to be doing, but he cleverly paints it in a light-hearted tone. Even though Spencer is completely aware of what Aaron’s doing, he doesn’t feel attacked or under pressure.

“Oh,” Spencer says unintelligently, stammering a little as he scrambles desperately at a somewhat coherent reply, “yes, yeah, I’ll get going soon.” He doesn’t want to lie when he doesn’t have to, so he doesn’t try and offer an explanation for his staying late, and he knows Aaron won’t push. He manages an almost entirely genuine smile, though, which must count for something, even if it’s only because he’s hopelessly in love with the man leaning casually against his desk.

“Right then,” Aaron says, offering a small smile in response, letting his hard exterior drop in the nearly empty office, and even though it’s nothing special, not really, Spencer carefully files it away as his heart pitter-patters against his ribcage and his stomach pools with warmth. “See you tomorrow, Reid.”

Spencer just nods in response and gathers his things, placing them carefully in his messenger bag and shrugging his jacket on before walking out of the building. When he glances back, just as he pulls the glass door open, Aaron is watching him carefully. He doesn’t turn away but instead offers a small wave, which Spencer returns bashfully, blushing scarlet in the elevator and on the walk out of the HQ and during the whole trek down the street and sat on the metro train and on the final stretch home. He fumbles with his keys and curses himself for being so goddamn pathetic.

He doesn’t consider it for long, though, because he’s utterly exhausted and his tired bones collapse on the sofa, and who is he to try and get them to move again? Sleep is a mercy.

🌧

The case is gruelling and stressful enough without the endless and constant worry about where on earth Aaron is. He never turns his phone off and Spencer can’t think of a time he’s worked a case without him, not properly; he’s always the first one at the office, the first one on the plane, the first to jump out of bed towards the chance to make a real difference in the world. It’s so out of character for him and it’s utterly distressing.

Nevertheless, he focuses all his attention on the job; on protecting Jeffrey and Tom Barton, on bringing justice to the perpetrator when they inevitably find them. He offers lame and desperate excuses for Aaron not being there, all the while knowing full well that none of them are likely. Something is wrong and he’s powerless to help.

Emily tells him why. He sort of forgets how to breathe.

Getting shot in the leg while simultaneously petrified for the livelihood of the person you’re in love with is inconvenient at best when trying to talk down an unsub and protect a victim and eventually fatal at worst, but somehow he half-manages and Tom escapes unscathed, though he isn’t quite as lucky with the unsub.

That’s what matters, really, isn’t it? That others are safe, even if it means he’s in danger? After all, Tom Barton has lives to save and a son to raise, a wide social circle, and a loving family. What does Spencer have? No, it’s much better that he’s the one hurt than anyone else.

Of course, once the adrenaline of the situation starts to wear off and medics arrive on scene, he realises quite how badly he’s hurt. Already feeling woozy, energy seems to seep out of him as roaring, raging agony takes its place. It’s the first time he’s ever been shot and it’s worse than he could have imagined: no amount of studying literature and anecdotal evidence could prepare him for the feeling of a small metal ball tearing through the flesh and muscle and tendons — though, hopefully, and judging by the amount of blood he’s lost, no arteries or large blood vessels — of his thigh.

His team arrives, minus Emily and minus Hotch, and they’re concerned, of course they are. That is, until he presents them with someone they see as much more important, someone whose life is worth something, someone they care about deeply being hurt. And they leave.

He doesn’t get a chance to tell the medics that he doesn’t want narcotics, so the ride to the hospital is a blur of morphine and voices talking to him, though he can’t quite piece together what they’re saying. He wonders vaguely where everybody is, whether Hotch is alright, whether he’s about to die, but no real emotion is attached to any of these thoughts, they just… are.

He’s rushed into surgery almost immediately after he arrives at the hospital, and the next thing he’s aware of is a dull, ever-present, agonising ache in his upper thigh and exhaustion settled into his bones like his body is pain’s home, fatigue’s resting place. The last time he’d blinked himself awake in a hospital bed, blinding pain burning in one part of his body or another, Derek had been sat by his bed, eating jello.

There’s nobody by his bed this time.

A PCA pump is resting by his right hand but he doesn’t touch it. Clearly, nobody from his team has informed the hospital staff of his previous addiction; he doesn’t even know if they’re at the hospital; if they know what’s going on. The morphine he’s already had is going to be hard enough to deal with, he can feel the future cravings itching beneath his skin already, scarred-over track marks simmering away.

It’s over twenty-five minutes of lying helplessly on a hospital bed in a cool, impersonal room, feeling a certain kind of emptiness sitting in his stomach, before a nurse comes by. She looks pleased enough to see him awake, but he doesn’t care about her satisfaction, he cares about his team, about Penelope, about Aaron, and he’s too exhausted to do anything about it.

“Good, you’re awake,” she says cheerily and for once, he doesn’t try and conceal his despondency. It’s oddly freeing. “I’ll get the doctor to come and explain the situation.”

She bumbles out of the room, clearly not fazed by Spencer’s expression, so he resumes staring at the wall, allowing his thoughts to wander, still not managing to attach much emotion to them other than a miserable sort of emptiness.

The doctor is nice enough, making sure he understands his injury and the procedures he’s had done, as well as the recovery ahead of him, but he just can’t bring himself to care. It’s as though this is the last straw; this is the proof, the evidence to win the case he’s been fighting in the court of his mind. His team doesn't care. His life is worthless. He will always, always be alone.

JJ stops by briefly. This feels like it should be a consolation, but it isn’t. He learns of what’s happened to Aaron, what his family is going through, and suddenly he feels selfish: how dare he demand and crave attention when Aaron is far more hurt and injured than he is? When he’s far more important and far more deserving of the team’s attention? Self-loathing creeps up his throat and settles into grey cotton wool that won’t melt in his mouth.

Spencer doesn’t know how to react to the incredibly overwhelming events of the day, and JJ doesn’t seem to have time for this. “Right, Spencer,” she says, visibly impatient with his emotional floundering, his lack of verbal response, “I need to go. We need to sort this out for Hotch. We owe it to him.”

She leaves, and all Spencer can think is how much more worthless not being able to work on his case makes him. If he can’t even work to save the man he loves; if he can’t strive effortlessly to protect him and make him happy, then what is he doing here? Aaron will be furious when he finds out Spencer laid in bed lazily instead of diving headfirst into the case.

No. That’s not true. He’ll be sickeningly nice about it, while on the inside suppressing his disappointment, and Spencer will feel even more guilty, he’ll be even more irate with himself, and life will seem just a little bit bleaker.

He’s discharged a few days later, and nobody has visited, barring JJ’s fleeting, impatient stop by. He goes home in a taxi and struggles up the stairs on his crutches, almost glad he didn’t have many personal items at the hospital. Then again, that was because he was completely isolated. And if he did have people to bring him things in the hospital, then he’d probably have someone to help him up the stairs too.

It’s a moot point, really. He dives straight for the non-narcotic painkillers he’d been prescribed as soon as he sits down on his dusty couch in his messy apartment, desperate to relieve at least some of the agony throbbing in his leg still. Clearly, the universe decided he wasn’t in enough pain already; that the unrequited love and the growing depression and the recurring stomach cramps and clenches in his chest weren’t quite sufficient.

He knows the team is working flat out on the Foyet case. But even Penelope, who probably works the hardest of all of them, has had time to send him an encouraging text message promising to pop round as soon as she can. Other than that, his phone is dry and his heart slowly freezing over.

Truthfully, he’s not sure how much more of this he can stand. He’s feeling the same way he did as a child: isolated, othered, hurt, and utterly, utterly alone. When he’d joined the BAU and was welcomed immediately into the arms of a family, he promised himself he’d never feel like that again. He would never, ever allow himself to sink so low; not when he was surrounded by so many people who proved day in day out how much they loved him. Surely, feeling like this would simply be impossible.

For once, Doctor Spencer Reid is proved wrong. And it burns, festers, and screams like nothing else.

Chapter Two

taglist:@criminalmindsvibez @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @hotchseyebrows @reidology @i-like-buttons @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @goobzoop @marsjareau @garcias-bitch (taglist form)

(I'm tagging my usual hotchreid taglist but let me know if you would not like to be tagged in this fic OR if you'd only like to be tagged once it's complete! Either fill in the taglist form again or DM me.)

[mimondee]

Hello ! I'm a new follower !😊 I hope you've been doing well and safe !😄 I saw that you were offering free readings, May i have one on who is my future husband ? Like as a person? 😍 Anything you can come up with will be great !! Im C😻⛵ and thank you !!💙

Hey there! Thank you for being part of our community! Hope you have a great day too! Let's see what the cards have for you🤗🧡

You are going to deal with love in its purest sense. There will be a mind, body, and spirit union and this new relationship is going to bring you abundance, sensual passion, even a baby.

You can meet your person in summer and he can be a water sign(I think from the water signs he can be a Cancer). He is going to support you, give you positive energy. He is going to love you, be a good friend, and will appreciate every moment spent with you. Be careful and when you meet this person keep all the experiences that you have in the past because otherwise, you aren't going to be able to move on and make your connection more stable. Focus on the now in your relationship and also try not to bring your family and work problems into it.

Your person is sweet, kind, calming, very resourceful, and crafty(can be good at making their own clothes, jewelry, or flower arrangements). He will give you a random act of kindness, sometimes can act child-alike. He will always be there when you need him. He can have children or love children, also love animals(especially cats, dogs). He can be a teacher, a hotelier.

Your person will give you security and safety, prosperity, he is organized and creative, over the age of 40. But he can have a non-social behavior, sometimes need some time to be alone and think, he can deal with anxiety and depression and can be a stubborn and unimaginative or emotional spender.

So basically you will have a great connection with your person even though he is a person who doesn't like too many social gatherings. You will grow together if you both listen one to another not what others have to say about you and your relationship. Keep your future moves only for you and if you will have options when it comes to choosing a partner think twice and don't make a decision in a rush. Pick only the best for you!

Moni🧚‍♀️

[yeonjunsbxtch]

Turquoise Sky - Choi Yeonjun

Turquoise Sky - Choi Yeonjun

*Sometimes the worst place you can be is in your own head*

Pairing: Choi Yeonjun x reader

Genre: Extreme Angst

Warnings: extreme anxiety, overthinking, depression, heartbreak, swearing, crying, yelling, retroactive jealousy, irrational thinking and behavior. 

Word count: 2k

Song suggestions: The Truth Untold - BTS, STUCKINMYBRAIN - Chase Atlantic, Not Meant To Be - Theory of a Deadman, Black Rose - Trapt

Arthur’s note: hello! 🥰 quick notes about this angst I wanted to add! This is actually a prologue for a story I am writing but I did change a few things so it would make more sense so consider this also a sneak peek! Also, this angst holds a special spot in my heart. I hope you enjoy! ❤️

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It was a gloomy September day. You gazed out the window of your bedroom, watching the wind blow through the leaves on the trees. The weather seemed to match your mood perfectly today. Your stomach turned as you felt your anxiety growing worse. Your anxiety has always been an issue in your life, but lately, it feels as if it is becoming something more.

As you continued to gaze out the window, your phone suddenly started ringing. You looked down at it and saw it was your boyfriend, Yeonjun. The slightest smile appeared on your face as you answered.

“Hi Yeonjun.”

“Hey babe, do you maybe want to go shopping today?”

Your smile grew hearing that he wanted to see you. You and Yeonjun have been arguing a lot lately about the dumbest shit. And of course it was always your fault. You could have sworn your relationship was ruined with the amount of times you almost split. So this was refreshing to hear.

Your smile grew hearing that he wanted to see you. You and Yeonjun have been arguing a lot lately about the dumbest shit. And of course it was always your fault. You could have sworn your relationship was ruined with the amount of times you almost split. So this was refreshing to hear.

"Sure! That would be fun!"

"Also, could I spend the night tonight?"

You grasped your bottom lip between your teeth as butterflies flew around in your stomach. It's been awhile since he has asked to spend the night. So, how could you deny him?

"Yeah! Sounds like a plan."

"Okay! I'll be there in 10."

And with that, you hung up. You quickly changed your clothes into something cuter.

Recently, you've been overthinking everything more than usual. You weren't sure why. Every word and every thought chewed through your mind and your anxiety always seemed the take over. It was almost like you had another person in your head. Every time you two fought, you were afraid he was going to leave you. Your arguments always ended with him wanting to end things. You felt as if you were walking on egg shells around him, trying not to overreact to anything. You were so afraid of him leaving you. You took a couple deep breaths to calm yourself. You were already feeling down today and the last thing you wanted was to argue with him, again.

.

"You like this one?" Yeonjun opened up a red candle for you to smell. You took a quick whiff and scrunched up your nose at the strong aroma.

"Not really, kind of smells like ass." He giggled at your comment and put the candle back on the shelf.

You walked over to the other side of the store to explore more options. You were surprisingly in a better mood than you were before. You and Yeonjun's mini shopping trip has been perfect so far and for a moment, it felt like there was hope for you two.

Just when you thought things were getting better, you stopped in your tracks as you heard a specific song start to play.

'I met you in the dark, you lit me up..'

Say You Won't Let Go by James Arthur

Your heart felt like it dropped and your stomach started to turn.

Your mind suddenly flashed back to the beginning of your relationship, when Yeonjun and you briefly talked about your past relationships. He told you that this song reminded him of his ex. You didn't know much about their relationship or how she broke his heart. All you knew was that this song was now associated with her.

You knew feeling like this was irrational. There was no reason to feel this way about a song. And you knew you were overreacting. But you couldn't help but wonder what their relationship was like. That made you nauseous. Retroactive Jealously at it's finest. Dark feelings and thoughts started to spiral out of control in your head..

'Does he still think about her?' 'Does he miss her?' 'Maybe that's why things have been tense.' 'Does he even still love me?'

You hated yourself for thinking those things and you knew it was irrational, but you couldn't control them. He's never given you a reason to worry about her. You remembered there used to be a time when you never doubted him. But how could you not when he has tried to leave you so many times before? Why was he always so quick to leave?

As you were staring blankly at a blue candle in front of you, you felt a light tap on your shoulder. You jumped a bit, not expecting the sudden touch. You turned around to see Yeonjun, smiling. That smile held so much innocence, so why were you always so quick to take everything out on him?

"Did you pick a candle? Do you want this one?" He pointed at the blue candle that you were staring aimlessly at. 'Turquoise Sky.'

Without thinking, you nodded your head and grabbed the candle. You attempted to smile as you made eye contact with him for a second, before looking to the side.

"You okay?" He asked.

You swallowed hard feeling a lump form in your throat. You knew you couldn't tell him what was wrong. He wouldn't understand. He would just get annoyed that you got upset about something so stupid, again.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Let's go." You said with a not-so-nice tone of voice. You didn't mean for it to come across that way. But for some reason, you felt like you had to mask yourself being upset. Hide your vulnerability. So you portrayed it as anger.

He gazed down at you before scoffing and grabbing the candle out of your hands.

"Okay. Let's go check out."

You watched him as he headed to the register. You mentally slapped yourself. 'Why am I like this?'

.

It was an awkward car ride back. The tension in the car was sickening and you felt frustrated at yourself for causing it. You continued to look out the window as the car came to a stop at a red light. You could feel Yeonjun's eyes on you. You took a quick glance at him and then turned back around. A shaky sigh was then heard from him. Your body flinched at the sound of him slapping his hands onto the steering wheel. You knew you had made him upset, for no reason. You felt the car start going again.

"What did I do?" He asked as his low voice cracked ever so slightly. You couldn't help but stay silent. "Seriously? Why do you always do this?"

"Do what?" You acted stupid. You knew what he was talking about.

"This! We are perfectly fine one minute and then the next minute you act like I am the worst person in the world. Then I ask you what's wrong and you don't say anything! You do this all the fucking time!"

You sat still as his loud voice pierced through your ears. You started to feel your face heat up. You hated when he would yell at you. You couldn't handle it. You knew you fucked up.

"Don't yell at me." You wanted to punch yourself for saying that. What was the reason for acting like this? You knew it would only make things worse.

You heard him chuckle. You know that chuckle people do when they are so frustrated that they can't help but laugh? Yeah, that.

"Why don't you tell me what's wrong or if I did anything wrong? Because I really have no idea."

You wanted to tell him. You wanted to cry to him and express to him that it wasn't his fault. That he didn't do anything. But you were scared. You couldn't admit your insecurities out loud. You were afraid he wouldn't take you seriously.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"What the fuck is your problem?!"

You turned your head towards him, lips parted in awe, not believing what he had just said.

"My problem?! Seriously?!" You raised your voice and let out a soft chuckle. "Maybe this is why I never tell you anything! I'm always afraid you're gonna get mad or you're gonna leave me because I am upset about something!"

You cringed at yourself as you heard what was coming out of your mouth.

Yeonjun paused, taking in a breath to calm himself.

"Y/N... are you happy with me?"

His voice was so soft and low, sounding terrified of the answer.

You looked at him as his eyes held their gaze on the road. He has asked you this many times before, but only when he was rethinking the relationship. You tried taking a deep breath. You knew that you just needed to reassure him. Then everything would be okay, right?

"What does that have to do with anything? You didn't do anything wrong, okay?"

Yep, that was the best you could do.

Yeonjun opened his mouth to say something but shook his head instead. There was something about the tension in the air that felt... different. Something that was inconsistent with all of the other times you two fought.

Yeonjun stayed silent the rest of the way back. The silence added with the tension made you feel even more sick.

.

After what felt like forever, you finally arrived at your house. You unbuckled your seatbelt and noticed he wasn't unbuckling his. You looked over at him and his eyes met yours. His eyes looked empty as he just peered at you with no expression.

"Are you coming in?" You asked him, voice becoming more faint.

"No. I'm sorry." His deep voice was monotone. You had never heard his voice sound so emotionless.

"Why? You-You said you were going to spend the night.."

"I can't. I'm sorry."

You wanted to rip your hair out in anger and frustration. You wanted to go back in time and change what had happened. You didn't know what to do at this point. You felt as if there was nothing else you could do or say.

"Yeonjun.. please."

You gazed at him as he sat back in his seat.

"I can't do this anymore."

Your heart dropped and you started to feel your palms become soaked with sweat.

"Can't do what anymore?"

Even though you knew what he was talking about, you still asked. You needed to hear it.

"Us. We need to break up."

"Yeonjun, I-"

You tried to reach for his hand but he pulled away.

"Don't try to change my mind. It won't work."

You sat up in your seat and faced him. You took a couple deep breaths, building up the courage to let yourself be vulnerable.

"Look, I'm sorry. I was just having a bad day and I took it out on you and I didn't mean to." Trying to apologize the best you could, he let out a sigh.

"You don't understand.." He whispered.

"Please, explain Yeonjun."

He ran his fingers through his yellow colored hair.

"I'm always scared I am going to do something to upset you. Like I said earlier, we are great one minute but then fighting the next. I love you Y/N and I just want you to be happy."

Your world felt like it had shattered as you watched a couple tears fall from his eyes. All this time you were worrying about your feelings, you forgot about his.

"Please, Yeonjun... I'm sorry! Please baby, you didn't do anything wrong! I just overthink someti-"

"Please, don't- don't call me that Y/N. Don't make this harder than it has to be. Please go.."

You looked at him as he avoided eye contact with you. You tried to reach for his hand one more time. This time he didn't pull away. You held his hand in yours, feeling it for what you hoped wouldn't be the last time. He gazed down at your hands and then let go.

"Yeonjun-"

"Stop! Y/N, You need to go. now."

Your heart felt like it had been broken into two. You wanted to fight for him, like you always have. But for some reason, you couldn't. This felt so... final.

He leaned back and reached his hand in the backseat, grabbing the bag with the candle in it. He held it out to you. Your eyes shifted from the bag to him. You couldn't accept this. Not after everything you did.

"Keep the candle."

And with that you exited his car. Without looking back, you unlocked the door and entered your house. You kicked the door closed behind you and immediately fell to your knees.

Once the first tear dropped, there was no stopping the rest from flooding out.

You desperately tried to catch your breath in between sobs. You didn't want to believe what had just happened.

Feeling empty inside as you wept on the floor, you felt as if Yeonjun had just ripped a piece of your heart out. A piece that you would never be able to get back..

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[khaleesiofalicante]

Dani I have a genuine problem and idk who to talk to - on instagram there is aan animal rescue page I follow, working in india primarily where I live. They are in dire need of funds and are handling multiple cases, but aren't getting much help since ig algorithm is flop. I can't help them since I'm struggling myself and idk what to do beside sharing their posts. But it's taking a toll on me since that helplessness triggers my depression and I have a breakdown. What to do idk sorry to unload you don't have to answer tbh

Hello, love.

Okay, that's very understandable. Helplessness is a very common anxiety trigger.

It can be very difficult to see someone struggling and not be able to help them - especially when it's/they are important to you.

But it is very important for us to be conscious of our capabilities and resources. Wanting to help someone and actually being able to help someone are two different things. It's important to learn and make peace with this difference - especially when you are young and don't have much control over your resources.

However, helping this organization does not necessarily mean you have to share funds of your own. I would suggest that you share the details and make a post on Tumblr (I'm happy to share it too) since we know there is a large desi community here. So, if anyone wants to help, they will. We don't know if they will, but by sharing the post here (or elsewhere), you know you have broaden their scope and that's important.

Also - if this is very important to you, then I encourage you to reach out to this organization. Tell them "hey I admire your work a lot. I understand you are looking for funds, but I am currently not in a place to make any donations. but I was wondering if there is any other way I can support your organization/work at this time?"

for example, if you are good at making posts/edits (Canva is a good tool!) and then maybe you can help them make cooler posts on insta to increase the reach? You can even help them identify maybe some ideas for insta stories? There are lots of options.

You might not be able to give the support they are looking for right now. But think about what you have to offer them and share it with them. If they want to use your skills and if they want your help, they will reach to you.

When someone is struggling, the best thing we can do is remind them that we are here if they need us. So, remind them. If they need you and have use for what you have to offer, then they will reach out to you. That's all we can do for now and that's okay. That's good.

I hope they find the funds they need! Fingers crossed!

[suckmysupernatural]

Tired

Word Count: ~2k, one shot

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Warnings: descriptions of depression

Summary: After coming home from a hunt, the reader starts to experience a depressive episode. Dean takes care of the reader during this time..

A/N: Hello loves. I wrote this during a depressive episode of my own, which was not the easiest task. I just wrote what I would have wanted in that moment. AKF

You were tired. 

The hunt had been simple, three vamps that were quickly beheaded and discarded. But as soon as the adrenaline wore off, you could feel it. The exhaustion was bone-deep. This hadn’t happened in a long time, since before you started hunting with Sam and Dean. They didn’t even know that this was one of your life obstacles. You wanted to tell them so many times, especially Dean. The two of you had been a couple for a while now, and you trusted him. It just hadn’t felt necessary to share because you hadn’t had an episode. Until now.

The drive back to the bunker seemed to take forever. You sat in the back; your head leaned against the cool window. Everything felt different. The world around you was dull and colorless. Your body ached, wishing it was curled up in your bed or on the floor. Your eyelids were droopy as you no longer had the energy to keep them fully open. It didn’t matter to you, though. Nothing seemed to matter. 

Dean looked into the rearview and frowned with concern. You seemed more tired than usual, and the hunt hadn’t even been that difficult. He just hoped that a good night’s sleep would do you some good. He didn’t like seeing you without the spark in your eye. It was one of many things he loved about you.

The Impala pulled into the garage and as soon as it was parked, you got out. It was as if a magnet was pulling you in the direction of your bed. Dean grabbed your duffel for you, as he always did, and followed as you headed in the direction of your shared bedroom. As soon as both of you were inside and the door was closed, you shed your blood-stained clothing and exchanged them for sweatpants and an oversized shirt. Dean changed as well into a pair of sweats, leaving his chest bare. The two of you did this without any words exchanged. Dean could tell that you weren’t in the talking mood and didn’t want to push it. 

As soon as you were dressed, you crawled under the covers. You were finally able to let your body sink into the mattress, no longer needing to hold yourself up. It was a relief, but part of you also felt like it wasn’t enough. You wished that the bed could swallow you whole. Dean looked over at your curled-up figure and sighed. He didn’t know if you were okay, and it made him nervous. Regardless of his anxiety, he climbed into bed with you. Wrapping one arm around you, he pressed his chest into your back to spoon you. In all honesty, you barely felt it. You had retreated into the recesses of your mind for the night. It didn’t take long until you were both asleep. 

If you didn’t know any better, you would say that you hadn’t gotten any sleep. As soon as you woke up, you could feel it. The fatigue laid heavy on your body and it didn’t seem like it would let up anytime soon. Your eyes fluttered open, your eyelids still heavy and difficult to open. Dean stirred next to you, beginning to wake up himself. You knew he was going to be worried, but you didn’t know what to tell him. You couldn’t be bothered to try and figure it out. Staring at the wall as you laid on your side, you could feel Dean kiss your shoulder. It was a sweet affection that would usually bring a smile to your face, but not today. Instead, no emotion was shown or felt. 

“Morning beautiful,” Dean said, his voice deep as he stretched to wake himself up. 

“Morning,” you answered dully. Even speaking took a lot of effort and you wouldn’t have answered him, but you knew that would only make him more concerned. The more concerned he was, the more likely he would bother you about it. 

“Want some breakfast?” he asked. He stood up, grabbing clothes for the day from his dresser. You, however, didn’t move from your spot. 

“I think I’m gonna go back to sleep,” your voice was so low it was almost a whisper. Dean looked over at you, your back still turned to him. You sounded different than usual and he couldn’t help but notice. Dean wasn’t a morning person, but you had always been. The fact that you wanted to get more rest only made his gut clench. Something was wrong.

“Okay, baby. Just let me know when you get hungry, I’ll whip something up for you,” Dean said. He wanted more than anything to ask you what was wrong but knew it would lead nowhere. You were incredibly stubborn, so if you didn’t want to talk about it, then you weren’t going to talk about it. He knew you well enough to know that pushing would only make you retreat into yourself more. So, he did the only thing he could do; he left you alone. 

Every hour that passed without an appearance from you made Dean more worried. You had been in bed almost the entire day, drifting in and out of sleep. When you were awake, you didn’t do much, mainly staring at the wall. You had no motivation to do anything. So even when your stomach grumbled due to hunger, you couldn’t bring yourself to get up. At mid-day Dean had had enough. He was too worried just to let you waste away in the bedroom. 

“Hey, sweetheart?” Dean tried to get your attention as he entered the room. You didn’t let out a response so he ventured further into the bedroom, walking to your side of the bed. He had expected to find you asleep but was sadly mistaken. Instead, you were staring at the wall once more, your eyes slightly out of focus. Dean squatted down to be at eye level with you. “Y/N?” 

This time he was met with a small sigh, which was better than nothing. He brought his hand up, moving loose strands of hair and tucking them behind your ear. Your eyes glanced over at him for a moment before returning to the wall. 

“Sweetheart, I’m worried. What’s wrong?” he asked softly. You were starting to scare him with the blank look on your face. Once again, you didn’t say anything, only just slightly shrugging your shoulders. If he didn’t have his eyes glued on you, he wouldn’t even have noticed. “Why don’t we go to the kitchen, get you something to eat?” Dean pulled back the covers from your body and you let out a slight whimper. You didn’t want to get up; you didn’t want to do anything. 

“Shh… I got you,” Dean whispered. He wrapped his arms around you and began to pull you up into a sitting position. Your muscles screamed from the movement, having been static all day. Dean stood, tugging at one of your hands to follow suit. All you did was stare at the ground, not wanting to stand. You just wanted to sink back down into the bed. “Okay, how about I’ll carry you?” Dean offered. You simply nodded, not finding the strength within you to use words. 

He scooped you up into his arms and began to make the journey to the kitchen. Your mind was swarmed with thoughts, protests. You didn’t want to more or eat or drink. It all felt too hard, too taxing at this point. There was a weight on your chest that wouldn’t let up, and it was practically suffocating. You just wanted to fade away. Then you would have no responsibilities, and you wouldn’t disappoint Sam and Dean so much. But wasting away was an option that was no longer on the table, at least not if Dean could help it. 

When the two of you reached the kitchen, Dean set you down in one of the chairs. He would have asked what you wanted to eat but it was clear that you weren’t in the mood to speak. He grabbed a couple of options and laid them on the table in front of you. You just stared at them, your arms feeling like they were filled with lead. Dean watched you for a second before making the decision himself. He sat down right next to you, scooting his chair in even closer. Grabbing a protein bar, he made quick work of unwrapping it. 

You leaned into him, no longer having the capacity to sit up straight. Dean brushed your hair out of your face as your head rested on his chest. “You need to eat, okay? I’ll help you,” he brought the bar up to your mouth and you let out another whimper. You didn’t want to eat; you didn’t want to do anything. But you knew that Dean would keep you in the kitchen all day if necessary. Opening your mouth, you took a small bite from the bar. You chewed at a snail-like pace, having to force yourself to open and close your jaw. Tears began to fill your eyes from the effort. You just wanted to give up. As soon as you swallowed the first bite, the protein bar was next to your mouth again. Tears slid down your cheeks as you bit into it once more. You weren’t even crying, your eyes just leaking tears like a faucet. You were too tired to cry or sob. 

“I got you. I got you. You’re doing great,” Dean whispered into your ear. His free hand was stroking your head, his fingers running through your hair. Seeing you like this broke his heart and all he wanted to do was make you feel better. He hated watching you cry but knew that you had to eat something, anything. You already weren’t in a good headspace and he wasn’t going to let you starve as well. It took a while for you to eat the bar entirely, but you did it. “I’m so proud of you. I’m going to get you some water, okay? Then we can go back to bed.”

You nodded in response as Dean shifted your weight so that you were leaning against the back of your chair. Getting up, he quickly grabbed a glass of water for you. Once he had it, he returned to the same position as before, letting you lean on him. Like with the food, he guided the cup to your mouth and helped you take small sips. The water was an easier task than the food had been, and you were thankful for that. By now, your crying had stopped, the only evidence being the dried tears on your cheeks. You finished the water even quicker than the bar and soon you were back in Dean’s arms. He carried you back to the room and laid you down. At first, you had expected for him to leave the room, but instead, you heard the familiar sound of a zipper. Dean shed his jeans before climbing into the bed with you. He pulled you into him and held you tight. His body warmed you up, helping your aching muscles.

Playing with your hair, he quietly shushed you until you fell asleep. It was only once he was sure that you were out that he let himself start to drift off as well. When you woke up later, you would be feeling slightly better. Of course, Dean hadn’t healed you, but it was a start. You were so grateful for him and all he did for you. Without even knowing what you were thinking and feeling, he had managed to do precisely what you needed. It would be a while until you found your smile, your spark, again. That was okay, though, because right now, you were safe in Dean’s arms.

And that was enough. 

[neatotothethirddegree]

CW: III Ep 4 spoilers ahead!!

Candle needed a bit of a break. Maybe just a walk to the Pic-Nix table for a snack. She had left lightheaded ever since 'The Inner Flame' had took over that day, and she was a bit hungry either way.

But, she was a bit late.

At the table, sat Paintbrush, staring at a glass of orange juice. Their eyes were bloodshot and they had large dark circles under their eyes, and that shine in their eyes was gone. Candle stood there for a second before sitting next to Paintbrush.

"...Hello Paintbrush."

"Hey."

"...are you okay?"

"enh... No."

Candle could feel auras. It was a strange power she had, and Paintbrush's aura felt... Gloomy. It felt like a mix of sadness and rage and fear and a shit ton of anxiety and depression. Candle had to take a deep breath to makes sure the aura didn't effect her.

"Do you want me to do anything to help you feel better?" Candle stared at the glass of orange juice. "...actually, I have a question. Why are you just staring at a glass of OJ?"

Paintbrush sharply inhaled when Candle said 'OJ'. "...Me and OJ have actually been dating for a year."

"...oh. I'm sorry."

"...I promised OJ that I would never hurt him. Psychically AND mentally. And now look at what I did. I snapped at him. And, now he's... Gone." Paintbrush looked down. "I showed him the stuff I liked, he taught me how to ice skate, which is a big hobby of mine, and I..." They whimpered. "I-i screwed up."

Candle sat there, in silence.

"H-he.... He did so much for me." Candle could see tears run down Paintbrush's cheeks and the tips of their bristles had turned blue, looking like water. "And I broke my promise to him." Their voice was shakey and came out as a whisper.

Candle hated seeing Paintbrush like this. She knew that nothing would help unless they could see OJ, and that was not an option.

"...how can I help?"

Paintbrush sat there, thinking. "Could I... Just kinda... Cry on your shoulder? ...oh I sound du-"

"Go ahead."

Paintbrush looked at her, confused. "Wait. Really?"

Candle held out her arms for a hug. "Really."

Paintbrush whimpered and hugged her, sobbing. Candle hugged them back. "It's okay, let it all out. I'm right here."

"You aren't alone."

[parkerpeter24]

summer on you

Pairing ➳ harrison osterfield x reader

Warnings ➳ anxiety, swearing, fluff, ugh this is literally based off my blood-sucking teacher.

Word count ➳ 2.3k words

So, let me wish all my birthday buddies! First of all, a very happy birthday to haz boy! Next, I would like to dedicate this fic to my lovely friends @allegra-writes​ and @spideygirl2003​​ also, this was inspired by the song ‘ summer on you’ by PRETTYMUCH

Baby, I ain’t got no money

All I got is time

And I’m gon’ spend that time on you

But when they pay me

And I can buy the sunshine

Take you away, we’ll drink champagne

While holed up in a room

“Yes ma’am, you don’t have to worry about that.” You uttered in the speaker of your mobile typing away the details on the empty spreadsheet that was now on the screen of your laptop. You had spent most of your week like that, sitting in a corner and completing the details of your colleagues in the said spreadsheet. It was killing you, but your boss gave you no option. You just wanted to ditch her and get some rest, or a long, relaxing bubble bath at least.

Then your phone went off, again, pulling you out of your relaxative thoughts and you groaned loudly. Without even looking at the contact you picked up the call and started in the same hoax voice, “Hello, ma’am!”

You were expecting her to go off on you again because you were taking such a long time in typing the name of a few fellow mates and creating the spreadsheet as “higher authorities” had asked for them immediately, but all you heard was the sweet voice of her best friend, “Still working?”

You sighed in relief, pushing your laptop farther from you on the table and rested your head on the cool glass surface. You hummed along as he chuckled. You knew he didn’t mean to make fun of you, it was rather a pity chuckle, “Why don’t you just stop for a while,” he gulped before continuing, “What the hell is that green juice on your dining table?!” He complained, making you gasp and let out a giggle.

“I knew it! Now, what exactly are you doing at my house Haz?” You asked in a serious tone, but failed miserably, “You know I didn’t give you my keys so that you can barge in my house at any time you want!”

He just laughed it off and you sighed, putting the phone on speaker, and pulled the laptop in its initial position to start typing.

“What’re you doing in the office anyway?” He questioned, hearing the soft typing sound of your laptop as he moved towards your kitchen to grab some of your homemade cookies, “I thought it was supposed to be your day off.”

“Ms Vibha sent me here to get the essential files to fill in some fucking details in this fucking spreadsheet.” You gritted your teeth. Haz could sense your expression from your tone as he sighed, “I didn’t even grab any food today, I was in such a rush-” You continued but stopped when you realized that there was an eerie silence on the other side, not a sigh, not even the sound of a footstep, it almost felt intimidating.

“(Y/n),” Haz finally spoke up, his tone serious, making you shift uncomfortably in your work chair. You hummed after a good few seconds, “Wh-what’re anti-depressant pills doing on your kitchen counter?”

Your eyes widened in shock, ‘shit!’ you cursed under your breath. You didn’t realise that you forgot to put those pills in your bag when you were “in such a rush” this morning.

You fell silent contemplating on whether to say something or stay quiet. He didn’t say anything, making you more anxious than ever, and the most depressing part was that your anti-depressants weren't with you. You cleared your throat uncomfortably finally deciding to break the silence, “Haz I can-”

“Can we meet when you get off work?” He asked and you gulped, nodding your head even though you knew he couldn’t see it. There was no way you could escape from it now, he found out that you had anxiety, he would probably leave you forever now.

“Okay.” You said finally before he hung up the phone. You groaned seeing five missed calls from your boss. What an asshole.

----------

You rang the bell beside the door when you reached Harrison’s apartment. Soon the door was opened and you were led in until you were sitting on the couch and a glass of water was placed in front of you on the wooden table.

Harrison had been quiet the whole time you were there. He seemed to think about something deeply as he cleared his throat. You looked at him expectantly but he only stared at the ground.

“Haz,” You finally said in a shaky voice making him look up at you, fast enough to notice the tears in the corner of your eyes, his expression softened, “I have the pills because-”

“Would you go on a road trip with me?”

“W-what?” You asked in return to his sudden question.

He gave you the best ‘seriously?’ face he could muster before speaking, “(Y/n), you are in the dire need of a vacation.” He stated, getting up from his designated chair and sitting on the same couch as you, but he sat on the other end rather than sitting right beside you. He knew it would take a lot of efforts to finally convince you to take this break.

“But- but my boss, and the spreadsheets- I- it’s not possible Haz.” You stuttered and Harrison’s eyebrows furrowed. ‘Poor thing’ he thought. What the fuck has that blood-sucking a-hole done to you?

“Come on...” He pouted, extending the last syllable, “Just two days, give me two days. Please.” He pleaded. Now, to be honest, Harrison is a charming boy. And when he asks you something as tempting as that, you can’t resist the offer.  Besides that, you had always adored the blond haired man, you always have, and you could bet that he had the same heart in his eyes while looking at you that you had whenever you saw him. You sighed in defeat while a smile painted on Harrison’s face.

“Two days. That’s all you get.”

Darling, I've been working all week

I've got so much on my plate

Always saying “poor me”

Although my boss is an a-hole

That's when you call me

Said you've been making a plan

To hit the road with me

You sighed, feeling the wind brush against your face and your hair flowing with the wind. Harrison turned to look at you for a moment before fixating his gaze back on the road.

Everything was peaceful. Finally. Harrison has taken your phone away from you in the prospect of keeping your anxiety at the lowest level, and to be honest, it was working. You were smiling softly when Harrison saw you. You looked like an angel in that beautiful dress and your hair flowing back. He made you smile. The thought made him smile proudly as a blush adorned his face.

You turned to look at him with the same smile plastered on your face. You were on a long road surrounded by trees all over. The sky was grey, it was about to rain. People would say the scene looked that of a cliché thriller movie, but you were loving it. Everything was perfect. The weather, the company, the way he looked, your hand brushing his on the gear, feeling him stealing glances at you. Perfect.

The car finally came to a halt and you looked at the small lodge in front of your eyes. It was a typical wooden cabin surrounded by a dense forest, away from the urbanisation, and you loved it.

You tried to help Harrison with carrying the bags inside but every time you offered, like a gentleman, he denied and told you to fuck off.

Just like a gentleman.

It was raining when you finally settled inside your respective rooms. You made your way out of the room and into the common room. You had a long time before dinner to yourselves –it seemed like it would be a long time until the rain stopped– so you started fidgeting with Harrison’s guitar.

He watched you with a smile as you tried to play a song but it sounded out of tune. He laughed and you squint your eyes at him, “What’re you laughing at?”

“It’s just that, you’re cute when you mess the chords up.” He laughed some more as a blush covered your face.

“You can’t play any better than me.” You mumbled, but he might’ve heard it because the next moment he was next to you, holding the guitar, ready to play a song.

You smiled, a flutter in your heart, as you saw him strum the strings to your favourite song, the pitter-patter of rain complementing the soothing voice of guitar.

We’ll hit the coast on the late night

Make love ‘til daylight

I love it when you play with my hair

You know it feels so nice

And I’ll do what you like

Naked in the moonlight

We don’t care if we are broke

When love is all we own

The loud sound of thunder woke you up. You suddenly sat up in your bed. You were not scared, just shocked by the suddenness of the storm brewing outside and a little worried.

You made your way to the next door and slowly opened it, feeling the cold doorknob against your skin.

Harrison was sleeping peacefully as you leaned against the doorframe. You couldn’t stop but stare at the sleeping beauty, it calmed you a little.

You sighed, moving to sit on the bed and gently shook his shoulder. He opened his eyes ever so slightly and looked at you, “Hey,” You greeted sheepishly.

“Hey, ever heard about sleep?” He questioned with a hoarse voice, and his british accent made it even more beautiful, sending a soft shiver down your spine. He saw you playing with the hem of the bedsheets and asked, this time with a more concerned voice, “What is it?”

You looked at him with slightly wide eyes. Harrison felt like someone had just splashed gallons of water on his face and the next moment he was wide awake, you looked so beautiful under the soft lamplight and when the thunder roared, the light reflected on your skin. But you flinched a little, “Can I- can I stay in here tonight?”

He smiled, opening his arms so you could lay there. And you did, sighing as his warmth engulfed you already making you feel protected.

As another loud thunder sounded outside you snuggled into Harrison, his hands in your hair, brushing the soft (y/h/c) out of your face.

When you woke up, the next morning, you were alone in the bed. You rubbed your eyes and looked around to see any sign of Harrison but you couldn’t find him anywhere. You roamed around the old cabin and finally found him in the front, loading some things on top of the car. He saw you standing by the door and smiled, “Morning, sleepyhead!”

You laughed, moving closer to where he was, “What is all this?” You asked. He just pointed towards the clear, blue sky as you followed his finger.

“If you haven’t noticed darling,” He started, making you blush at the nickname, “The sky is all clear and so we’re going to the beach!”

I’m singing hey babe

Two jobs on minimum wage

Although the rent’s late

Still got a smile on my face

We ain’t got the sunshine

But we got hearts in our chest

To feel the love like this

Stronger than anyone else

You were really excited throughout the car ride to the beach, and on finally reaching there you ran out of the car. It was mostly empty with a few people around, overall a nice place to be.

You and Harrison had the day to yourselves. You spent the day swimming in the ocean and splashing water on the other, it was great. Laying under the sun after lunch, and finally, you decided to go surfing.

You sat on your surfing board watching the enticing view when the sun started going down, Harrison beside you, silently watching you instead of the beautiful pastel sky.

You were literally very happy that Harrison took you to this place. You needed this break. And even if you didn’t know what would happen when you returned back to your normal, hectic life, you didn’t care, not right now.

 “What is it?” You asked, eyes still set on the sunset. Harrison’s eyes widened a little when you caught him staring, “Do you want to say something?” You asked again, waiting for him patiently but he just stared at you with an open mouth, you chuckled, “I’m really happy that you convinced me to come here with you.” You said with a grateful smile.

He just looked at you and smiled back before silence filled the surroundings. A few moments later, the sun had almost disappeared into the horizon and you suggested to Harrison that the both of you should head back to the cabin, but he didn’t say anything, just staring ahead, “(Y/n),” He sighed finally.

You looked at him expectantly, “What happened?”

“I do have to say something.” He looked into your eyes with his beautiful aqua blue ones. You waited for him to continue, “I-I felt it my responsibility to make you happy when I found those pills just sitting on your kitchen counter. You should’ve told me earlier (Y/n)! I would’ve never let that get to you! And I-”

“I love you.” You cut him off mid-sentence, “I’m sorry I made you worry.” You looked down.

“Hey,” He swam closer with soft eyes, “I love you too.” He smiled, stopping just beside you, close enough that you could reach over and just kiss him senseless.

But he did it first.

He led your chin up with the help of his finger, guiding you to his soft lips and you melted into him. He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you down from your surfing board as he smiled into the kiss. You could feel it in the air, it was something different. And you knew it was going to stay like that for a long, long time.

Oh I will spend my summer on you.

Permanent taglist: @parkershoodie @spideygirl2003 @tommysparker @god-knows-what-am-i-doing ​ @allegra-soleil ​ @rubberducky-jrr ​ @purefluff ​ @clara-licht @anjali750 ​@drunklili @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh ​ @the-crazy-fanfictionist ​@fanficparker @halfblood-princess-505 ​ @chaoticpete @hollandsamor ​ @t-monosapiens-h ​ @tom-holland-is-spiderman @sunflowerhollands @averyfosterthoughts ​ @katiejupiter ​ 

My mutuals + friends who might be interested in this: @spideyyeet @euphoria-parker @kelieah @cosmicholland ​ @worldoftom @soft-petey ​ @lovelytholland @londonspidey @lauras-collection @lost-aesthetic-of-past @marvelousell @angelholland @miss-nerd95 @parkeret @greenorangevioletgrass @dahliaspidey @angelic-holland @definitely-not-black-cat @preciouspparkers @properweirdparker

[justniaaa]

Unravel Me (4)

Gif by: @blackisblackisblack​

Rating 18+NSFW

Work Count: 3.4k

Pairing: Christopher “Rio” Martinez xblack!oc

Warning: Swearing, mentions of a gun

A/N: Hey my loves! I’ve missed you guys so much, so sorry for the late update. I’m not going to lie and say it wont happen again because it most likely will but I wasn’t expecting to be gone for so long. Anxiety/ Depression is a fucking bitch bro and like I said before even if my posting isn’t constant, I always want to make sure to give you guys content. Thanks for you for rocking with me and Enjoy chapter 4! Happy reading and please dont forget to like, comment and reblog <3

Summary: Toni forms an unsuspecting friendship with Christopher that turns into something more. As her feelings towards him continue to grow she starts to  unravel the secrets that surround him and in return, he unravels her completely.

Chapter 4: Let the games begin

After the eventful night between Toni and Chris, it was like the days went by rather quickly and before she knew it, Friday was here and Toni’s nerves were coming along for the ride. When she came home that night and told her girls about what transpired with her and the mysterious business mogul they gave out beaming smiles and all three of them jumped around, excited that Toni was going out on a date. And of course, don’t even get her started on Aaliyah, the woman was more than elated, and every chance she got she made sure to bother Toni about her new “boyfriend.”

Toni was walking in from work at Print Monthly and let out a yawn. Working two jobs, and writing a new article was slowly catching up with her, but with enough caffeine, she thinks she could make it through. She took off her heels and placed her keys on the entrance table trying to stifle yet another yawn, that was on its way out of her mouth. As she went further into the apartment she didn’t hear any movement from either of the girl’s rooms so she figured she was home alone. Toni went into her room not caring to turn on the light since she had a small night light in the corner and shut the door. She dropped her purse on the floor and took off her clothes, only leaving on her bra and panties. Toni sighed and shuffled to her bed, face planting into it as she wrapped her sherpa throw around her body. Since the AC was fixed the day before her place was nice and cool and all she wanted to do was take a small nap.

But before she could float away to unconsciousness her door was rushed open and the light flicked on, “Oh no bitch, get up!”

Toni groaned hearing Rocky’s voice and covered her face with the blanket, wishing for  a couple of minutes of sleep, “Antonia Kelis Thompson, up now!”

The blanket was ripped away from Toni, and she put her face into the pillow, “Just five minutes,” she groaned.  

“No, get up! Sage made you a smoothie to help with your energy before she left for the grocery store and you need to drink it so we can get you together for tonight.”

Toni turned her head and looked at Rocky, she was standing next to her bed with her eyebrow raised and a hand on her hip and the other was outstretched with said green smoothie in her grasp.

“It’s only six Rocky, we meet up at nine.”

True to his word, Chris hit her up and they set up a time and place to meet up, the place being an escape room to which Toni was particularly thrilled about. She had always wanted to go to one and she vaguely remembered mentioning it to him on one of their morning talks at the cafe. After they arranged their night out they continued texting each other throughout the day and it felt good to have that feeling of giddiness whenever she heard her phone ding and it possibly being him.

Toni huffed and sat up, sitting cross-legged on her bed and took the drink from Rocky’s hand. Taking a few sips she scrunched up her face from the taste but soldiered on when she saw the look Racquel gave her. When she finally finished the last bits of the smoothie, she put the glass on her nightstand and turned back to her friend.  

“All finished, what’s next on the list warden?”

Racquel rolled her eyes, “So damn dramatic, go take a shower and I’ll dive into that mess  you call a closet to find you something to wear.”

Toni stretched her limbs as she stood up from the bed while Rocky shooed her to the bathroom grabbing her towel from the back of the door in the process.

“And don’t forget to shave bitch!” Rocky yelled out.

“I shaved my legs yesterday, why the hell am I going to do them again?” Toni said poking her head out from the doorway, her confusion was evident.

“I’m not talking about your legs, girl,” Raquel said, winking. Toni didn’t plan on sleeping with Chris tonight but with how crazy the attraction was between them anything was possible. So with understanding and gratitude, Toni simply nodded and backed into the bathroom, closing the door and getting to work.

After the long half-hour of exfoliation, shaving, and showering, Toni came out of the bathroom feeling fresh and squeaky clean and walked into the sight of her bed strewn with clothes. She took in the sight of her best friends arguing with a piece of clothing in their hands about which outfit would work best. She chose to ignore them knowing that whatever they picked would be applicable and tightened the towel on her form, going to her vanity to do her makeup and hair. The girls interrupted her a few times showing her what they chose and Sage helped Toni curl her hair in the back. Music and bouts of laughter were heard throughout the home and the minutes ticked by getting closer to when Toni was deemed to leave. She was just putting on her light blue jeans when her phone went off, interrupting the song that was playing on her Bluetooth. Rocky and Sage continued talking about whether she should wear heels or sneakers, and Toni finished buttoning her pants walking over to her device. The name Chris was on her screen, and before the voicemail picked up she answered.

“Hello,” she said.

“There she is, thought you weren’t gonna answer,” Chris’s smooth voice came through the phone, making Toni’s stomach flutter with butterflies. She could vaguely hear noises of machinery in the background but she didn’t think anything of it because as quickly as the noise came it was gone, like he went into a separate room.

“I mean I didn’t have to pick up, especially since you're interrupting me getting ready for my date,” Toni sat down on the bench at the end of her bed.

“Oh, word? Who’s the lucky man?”

Toni looked down at her nails, “Some guy I met a couple of weeks ago, he ain’t all that but I decided to have mercy and give him a chance.”

Chris laughed into the receiver, “I bet he’s hype as fuck to take your pretty ass out.”

Toni shrugged like he could see her, “I mean, I am kind of great.”  

“That you are Antonia, that you are.”

Toni covered her mouth with her fingers, trying to control the megawatt smile that was threatening to break out. They knew each other barely a month and already the way Chris made Toni feel was slightly alarming. “Is everything okay though, because if you need to change the time or something that’s fine.”

“Nah we good, just wanted to check up on you. And make sure I wasn’t gonna do an escape room by myself.”

“No worries, I’ll be there,” Toni said grinning.

“Aiight, so I’ll see you soon yeah?”

“Yes, sir nine o’clock.”

Chris chuckled, “Aight mama, later.”

Toni hung up and put her phone back on the charger, “I’m guessing from all the flirting we just heard, that was him,” Sage asked.

She shook her head, “Yeah, he was calling to make sure we were still on tonight.” Toni went and looked at the shoe options they picked out, thankful that her friends lended out a helping hand.  

“We think the all-white Nike’s would look great with your outfit. Plus it will give your feet a break from the heels and you can run around as you play the game with your boyfriend,” Rocky smirked when Toni gave her a dirty look at her use of the “B” word.

“I agree,” she told them. After bending down to put her sneakers on, Toni stood up and examined her outfit in the mirror, liking how it looked. The white bodysuit accentuated her curves and the light blue jeans and sneakers really brought everything together, making her feel comfortable but be cute at the same time. Toni sprayed her perfume and got her crossbody bag and phone, listening to her friends give her a pep talk as she walked to the front door.

“We put some wipes in your bag and some mints as well just in case your breath gets hot,” Sage said, following behind Toni.

“Oh yes and some pepper spray if he decides to get handsy,” Raquel continued, bringing up the rear, “You never know he can turn into an asshole when the clock strikes twelve.”

Sage gave Rocky a glare and nudged her, “I doubt it will come to that, Racquel but it is always good to be safe.”

“Yes, it is,” Rocky grumbled, rubbing her sore side. Sage may be small but her elbow had some power behind it.

Toni turned to them when they reached the door, “Thanks guys for all the help.”

“We got your back girl, you know that.”

“And have fun tonight please, you deserve it and it will do you good to get some dick. It might help you stop being so damn uptight.”

“Sage!” Toni gasped, hitting the girl’s arm while Rocky stood next to her nodding in agreeance.

“I can’t stand you guys.” Toni picked up the keys she left on the small table by the door and opened her arms, “Alright give me some loving.”

They all came in for a group hug, just like they always did back in college, “Love you hoes,” Toni murmured.

“We love you too,” Sage and Rocky said together.

*****************************************************************************************************

Pulling into the parking lot Toni texted Chris letting him know she had arrived and while she waited on his reply she stared down at her phone and went through her social media. Suddenly a knock on her window made her jolt in the seat and look up with a hand to her chest. She let out a breath when she saw it was Chris at her window, his eyebrow raised and his mouth curved into a smirk.

“Geez Chris, you scared the shit out of me,” Toni exclaimed through the closed window.

She reached next to her, to get her purse and took her keys out of the ignition, placing them and her phone into her bag. She unlocked the door and he opened it for her, a smile still residing on his lips, “My bad ma, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Toni side-eyed him as she got out, “Liar, you know damn well it’s too dark for your ass to be playing games.”

“Oh shit, don’t tell me big bad Antonia is scared of the dark.” Chris closed her car door behind her and Toni hit her key fob locking the vehicle. They began walking through the sparsely lit up parking lot, heading towards the building that had MadeYa Look Escape Room in bright lights at the front.

“Listen, frightening things live in the night, so don’t shame me.”

Chris chuckled as they walked side by side, his hands behind his back, “Nah, no shaming here baby. I used to be the same way, years ago.”

Toni felt a jolt at this new nickname, she hadn’t been called baby from the opposite sex in years and it made her feel warm inside to be hearing it from him. Toni decided to play it cool and not show how much the term of endearment affected her, but she secretly promised herself she would gush about it later in the privacy of her home.

“What made you stop being scared?” Toni asked as they finally reached the entrance.

She went to open the door but his ring covered hand was suddenly on top of hers, making her palm sweat on the cool metal of the handle, “When I became the scary thing to the monsters.”

Toni noticed the sudden shift between them as she gazed into his dark brown orbs. You would think after a statement like that she would be afraid but she felt perfectly fine, safe even. She didn’t know what to think about that, so she intended to not think about it at all.

“I forgot to tell you earlier but you look beautiful,” Chris said, his eyes not leaving hers, he was close enough that he could hear her breath stutter but didn’t comment. Toni bit her lip and pushed a piece of hair behind her ear.

“You got your nose pierced,” she said, surprised. Toni saw the faint glint of the piercing from the glare of the lights and even though she never dated a guy with one it was different and it fit him perfectly.

Chris took note of the change of subject but he nodded anyway and ran his tongue across his bottom lip, making it shine, “You like it?”  

“It’s cute,” She said with faux disinterest. Just like last time, with the close proximity they were in Toni could smell his cologne that was dark and subtle. They would kiss if she stood on her tiptoes.

“You ready for me to whoop your ass in this game?” Chris teased, and just like that the spell was broken and the light-hearted flirting came back into play.

Toni scoffed, grateful for the break from the tension “Please, the question is are you ready?”

With her hands still encompassed in his, they both opened the door and went to the front desk to pay and get instructions. The brunette clerk who they later learned was named Debbie was none the wiser to the something that transpired moments before, as she explained rules and questioned which room they wanted to play. While the middle-aged woman was talking, he had his hand rested on the small of Toni’s back and tried as she might she couldn’t focus on anything else but the heat of his palm. Luckily, another couple came in after them and they were able to play against the pair in the zombie apocalypse escape room. Before the game started Toni and Chris set up a bet for whoever solved the most clues even though they were on the same team. Toni ran her hand through her loose curls to put her hair up in a ponytail waiting for the countdown and noticed Chris’s outfit, “You don’t think you’ll get hot running around in your jacket?”

As per usual Chris was clad in all black but he had on a jean jacket over a black shirt this time rather than a regular button-up.  

“I’m straight,” Chris said nonchalantly. Before she could interrogate him further, Debbie’s voice came onto the intercom letting them know she was starting the countdown. Quickly, ten seconds turned to one, and the game began.

*****************************************************************************************************

The couple walked out of the room breathless and delighted with how well the game turned out. They beat the newlyweds by a landslide with one minute to spare, and unfortunately to Chris’s exasperation, Toni solved most of the clues and now she had full reign over tonight.

“Congrats guys!” The clerk complimented as she handed them two free t-shirts for winning and even offered to snap a picture of them to put on their winner board. Chris declined grumbling about how he hated taking pictures but of course, when Toni gave him puppy dog eyes and reminded him she was the captain of tonight he grudgingly relented. Only on the grounds of them taking the photo on their personal phones and that Toni promised not to rag on him the rest of the date.  

Toni gave the woman her phone already opened to the camera app and they both took their place in front of the winner’s board. She didn’t know where to position herself, not wanting to be too much in Chris’s personal space if he wasn’t comfortable with it, but he made the decision for her when he put his arm on her shoulders and brought her in close, making Toni’s palms sweat. She quickly decided to wrap her arms around his waist praying he couldn’t feel her heart practically beat out her chest when she leaned against his side. They both looked at the camera with big smiles earning an “Awww you two are adorable!” from Debbie.

As Toni went to pull away, she brushed against something solid and what felt oddly like steel under his jacket. Stepping back Toni pondered over the fact that the object that she touched was most likely a gun and that was probably the reason why he didn’t want to take off his jacket before the game.

“Here you go hun,” Debbie said, passing Toni her phone.  

Toni graciously thanked her while she took the device and tried to school her features. She knew people had guns, even her father had some locked away at his house but something about him hiding it made her stomach roll.

They went out into the cool night and Toni walked next to Chris quietly still thinking, “So where to boss, since you running shit now.”  

A beat passed and she could see Chris in her peripheral take a look at her, wondering why she wasn’t responding.

“You good mama?” He inquired.

 She was acting like such a dumb ass, it wasn’t like he was her boyfriend he didn’t have to necessarily tell her why he had a gun and she was fine when he told her the monsters were afraid of him. So why did the gun affect her so much?

Toni looked over at him seeing his brows knitted in worry and decided to push the issue aside for a second. “Yep, but the real question is are you good after that ass whooping I gave you? Mr. I’m gonna win just watch.”

Chris groaned, “I thought you promised you wasn’t gonna flame me.”

“Obviously I lied, I just wanted you to stop whining and take the damn picture.”

“Nah, I just think you wanted a pic so you could look at it and fantasize about me all the time.”

Toni snickered and pushed him, “Please, don’t flatter yourself.”  

They were still talking when they finally reached her car. Toni leaned against her door, she could see his Range a couple of spaces from hers. “So what now Antonia?”

He asked while he stood in front of her, his hands in his pockets.

“Not sick of me yet?” Toni wondered, tilting her head.

“Never that darlin’.’”

Toni cleared her throat feeling her cheeks burn, damn him, he knew exactly what the hell he was doing. Not wanting to put it off any longer she made the choice to just ask him about the gun, not wanting to proceed with the night without being in the know.  “Can I...ugh this is probably so stupid but can I ask you a question first before we leave here?”

He straightened when he heard the way she stuttered like she was worried about questioning him, “Go ahead.”

Toni crossed her arms, “You can tell me it's none of my business and honestly it’s not that big of a deal but is there a reason why you didn’t want to tell me you were carrying a gun? I felt it while we were taking the picture.”

She was expecting him to get upset about her interrogation  but his posture went lax, seeming happy that that was what she wanted to ask.

“I didn’t say anything ‘cause I wasn’t sure if it was gonna freak you out. I use it for protection only and I should have told you instead of assuming.”  

Toni sighed and rubbed her forehead, “No, I apologize it just took me by surprise is all. I knew someone that carried and it always seemed like he used it more to showcase how much of a dick he was rather than use it as a safety precaution.”

“Hey,” Chris raised Toni’s chin, making her focus on him. “Don’t ever be scared to ask me somethin’.  Even if I don’t like the question, imma always try and give you as much of the truth that I can, aight?”

“Okay,” Toni said.

“Okay,” Chris dropped his hand and grabbed Toni’s holding it in his grasp, still looking at her, “So we gonna chill in this parking lot all night or we gonna go to the next spot?”

Toni lightly squeezed his hand with a mischievous glint in her eye, “I know the perfect place.”

“Aiight then,” Chris walked to the passenger side of her car waiting, “Let’s go.”

“You’re not gonna drive your car?” Toni wrinkled her nose, puzzled whilst unlocking the car.

Chris opened the door and simply said, “Nope I trust you,” before getting into the vehicle leaving Toni speechless.

Toni let out a harsh breath and whispered “This man is too fine,” getting into the car as well. It seemed like their night had only begun.

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