#having other symptoms being dismissed with ‘try losing weight it could help’ all to find a nice PCP who listened to me and got me a

[catria-whitewing]

.

[pineappleciders]

sp main 4 with a reader who has an eating disorder; platonic headcanons

includes: stan, kyle, cartman, and kenny

A/N: kyles and kennys look so much longer than the rest oops LOL, also the ed is restrictive n implied as anorexia but others could fit it too 🤫

stan marsh

he notices when you don't eat your lunch, and how you tend to leave after meals. he doesn't think it's weird though, acknowledging that it's normal to have something not agree with your stomach or just not being hungry.

but, it started to worry him a little as it became more frequent, and how you were losing weight rapidly

he probably doesn't ask about it at first, but sometimes he'll mention little things or try to subtly express concern

"do you not like your lunch? you can have my fries, if you want."

he might confront you about it, and assumes that there's something else going on in your life that's been affecting you. he figures that would explain the lethargy, the dizziness, and how pre-occupied you are.

he has no idea what an eating disorder is.

you have to explain it, and he probably does some research online about what your disorder is and it just kinda. clicks for him. like the puzzle pieces snap into place

he thinks of all the times you've shown symptoms and warning signs, and he feels like a complete asshole for ignoring them

he keeps it in mind afterwards. he'll offer you pieces of his lunch, and invite your family over for dinner. he also reminds you that he's there for you, whatever that means.

he tries to spend more time with you, sort of as a way to ease his mind that you're safe. and he has his mom make your favorite snacks when you two hang out!!

stan tries to be more mindful of his words, and takes other peoples mental health more into consideration. it's kind of a wake-up call to him

"damn, Y/N, you got sand in your vagina? you look awful."

"lay off, cartman."

"what?! i'm just saying! we were all thinking it!"

if you get really dizzy and nearly faint he gets really scared and immediately takes you to the school nurse. like he's very concerned that you're dying or something and falls asleep in the nurses office waiting for you to recover

he doesn't fully understand the disorder, but he still feels really bad about it!!!! he hopes that one day you'll have a better relationship with food. until then, he's happy to do everything he can to make it easier on you

kyle broflovski

he's probably a little ignorant of your symptoms at first, like he'll tell himself in his head that it's probably nothing.

in fact, he probably thinks you're sick. puking, not eating, always tired. he assumes it's just the common cold, and doesn't pry.

he can't help but worry though. bringing your own lunch with barely anything in it, never staying still, always drinking diet drinks. it was little things that added up and made him suspicious

he wants to mind his own business, but he figures he would be a bad friend if he just let you go through whatever you're going through on your own. he has to be there for his friends.

"Y/N? dude, can i talk to you? over here." kyle pulls you out of the hall into a secluded area.

"uhh, yeah, what's up?"

"uh, listen dude, are you sick or something? like, you haven't been eating any of your lunches, and to be honest... you look terrible."

"gee, thanks."

"ah, i didn't mean it like that. you look exhausted, i mean look at your eyebags! is.. is something wrong?"

you struggle to find words.

"yeah, no, i'm.. i've been fine. a cold, is all."

".. are you sure?"

"...yyyeah."

he keeps an eye on you after that, giving a worried look and furrowed brow when you refuse to eat, but you dismiss it every time.

he starts to research online about what could possibly be going on. not eating, always tired, low-energy, regurgitation...

he comes to the conclusion you might have an eating disorder, and he's honestly super lost on where to go from there. does he confront you about it? does he say nothing and leave you alone? is it any of his business?

he decides to start trying to ease his way into conversation by packing you a lunch one day. that way, you have to eat it!

he does little things like that, like following you to the bathroom after lunch or stopping you during laps around the school. it's... a little manipulative, trying to pressure you into cracking or stopping your bad habits. but, he really doesn't know how else to approach this.

once he talks to you about it, he tries his best to be emotionally available for you. he tries to keep his mouth shut and listen to you talk.

afterwards, he'll give you little pats on the shoulder as encouragement, or bring little chocolates from home for you in his lunchbox. he knows he isn't the best with stuff like this, so he tries to show his care by inviting you to play video games at his house.

to him, quality time can be one of the best ways to bond with someone. he's always inviting you to hang out or go out for dinner with his family!

eric cartman

"you gonna eat that?"

"like you need anymore food, fat-boy."

he's mainly confused on why you're acting so weird. it's sloppy joe day, dude. what the fuck are you doing staring at the wall??

most definitely takes the food you don't eat

"dude, Y/N, what crawled up your ass and died? you've been picking at your food all period."

"..nothing."

he huffs and turns back to his tray, mumbling under his breath. "well, fine, be a dick."

if you were to ever pass out, he'd assume you didn't sleep enough or have like. heart issues or something. which wouldn't be that far off

he only really cares if it causes some sort of medical problem or something. like heart disease, fainting and hitting your bead. then atp it gets him a little nervous. mostly because he isn't prepared to rush anyone to the er anytime soon

it bugs him. like it gradually gets more and more under his skin how you're obviously starving yourself. yeah, he knows. and he wish he didn't, because it's so confusing to him

why???? what is the purpose??????

honestly might subtly try to talk to stan or kenny about it. not cuz he cares. definitely not

"have you noticed Y/N lately??"

"what about them?"

he sighs. "god, you really haven't noticed? they're totally ana-recks-it or whatever it's called. they hurl in the bathroom after lunch every day."

it's kind of hard for him to grasp his mind around,,,, so he chooses to ignore it. it still pisses him off though to no avail

he knows a bit about eating disorders from the internet and stuff, and that you're probably doing it out of insecurity or something. he really doesn't care about that part, but your habits gradually annoy him more and more

sometimes he'll just. push food to you at the lunch table. and when you ask why he's like huffing and reaches to take it back like "well damn i'll have it myself then"

he does get actually concerned if you get super light-headed or something. like if you stand up from your seat and fall back gripping your head he'll look at you from across the room all curious

and might take you to the nurse if nobody else will. maybe

kenny mccormick

yeah, he notices. he doesn't bring it up very often, how you don't eat a lot at lunch, mainly to save you any embarrassment.

he honestly just assumes you don't eat around him in particular out of sympathy. he thinks that you see his measly sandwich and apple and don't eat out of guilt. which he himself feels really bad about

tries to ask you what's wrong and ask if you don't want your food,, but tries not to make a big deal out of it

observes you a little closer, taking mental note of your weird little behaviors. going to the bathroom frequently, always walking, never quite seeming comfortable at your lunch table. he couldn't put his finger on it!

it was one day when you fainted and had to be sent to the nurses office that he pieced it together. he hadn't learned a lot about eating disorders, only a few bits and pieces off the web.

he felt guilty, for some reason. like he had failed you as a friend

i feel like if he were to confront you about it, he'd do it in a subtle way, not like an interrogation. he already feels like he's invading your privacy by mentioning it!!

he might bring it up while you're playing video games in your room. "mmph, mmmph? mm mm mmph mph mmphph? (hey, Y/N? can i ask you something?")

you pause the split-screen game you two were playing and look at him. "sure dude, go for it."

he looks around a little before his eyes land back on you. "mmphh.... mph mmphph mph mmph mph mmph mmphph mppphpm mmph mmmph. (so, i wanted to talk to you about something really important.")

you raise your eyebrow a little. "ookay."

he fidgets a little. "mph... mph mph mmphph? mmph.. mp mmph mph mphph mhp mmfmf mmphph mmphph. mmph mph? (well... are you okay? i've noticed you've been kinda distant lately. what's up?")

you feel your heart drop a bit, anxiety starting to swell. "uh.. i've been fine, i don't know what you're talking about."

his eyes look a little rejected, but he keeps trying. "mm.. mphm mph mphph mmf mm mph mph mmph mph. mp.. mp mph mmf mmf.. mphpmf mphhfm? mph mmmphph?(uh.. i'm just gonna say it. do.. do you have like.. eating problems? a disorder?")

he appreciates that you're talking to him about it, even if you're being honest or not.

he won't treat you differently afterwards. he'll give you a good pat on the back and a smile (you can only tell by the crinkle of his eyes), but he treats you the same.

he'll point out your funky mannerisms even less, and reminds you that you can talk to him. he isn't great at talking but he's great at listening!!!! also tries to be nicer to you. but he doesn't do it consciously, he just feels more of an urge to help you out and even protect you. specifically from cartman.

[juleswolverton-hyde]

Not by the Moon | 04

Genre: Smut, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Drama, Tragedy, Werewolf AU, Supernatural AU, Bookshop AU

Pairing: Bookshop keeper!/Werewolf!JB x Reader

Warnings: A sprinkle of jealous werewolf!Jaebeom and poor yet adorable attempts at coming across as human.

Summary: Every story has a purpose or goal it is dedicated to, their authors at times going to great lengths to see the project they once started to completion. Nevertheless, the things the writers swore on to see their latest art piece to completion are static.

Unchanging.

None of them swore by the Moon nor Love because they can solely genuinely swear on all that changes like themselves.

And yet, a wolf in love foolishly swore by the moon.

That is when Time truly started ticking.

Author’s Note: This chapter is from Y/N’s POV.

Previous Chapter / Next chapter

Masterlist

There are a lot of extraordinary people in the world, but you often don’t find them remarkable until you happen to stumble upon  and talk to them. The wolfish man holding tightly onto my hand, his arm draped across my shoulders, as we swagger over the pavement to his home above Paper Souls is such a curious person.

The good hour he dozed off hasn’t helped his sickly state. Even though he was nestled comfortably against me, occasionally a pained delirious whine fell from his panting lips as his features turned into a grimace. Upon waking, Jaebeom tried to dismiss his symptoms as nothing to worry about, but I insisted on getting him home as soon as possible.

“I’m sorry I ruined our outing,” he murmurs, voice strained. As we ascend the stairs to his apartment, he keeps his head bent low to focus on his steps.

Step by step. One foot before the other. There you go.

“It’s not your fault you got sick,” I reply, keeping a close eye on his movements to offer additional support if needed.

He turns his head to me, a few long black locks partially concealing the sweat on his brow. For a moment, it seems as if he wants to protest yet decides against it. Henceforth, what I get in reply is a hum resigning in the notion it’s indeed not his fault.

Is your condition causing this?

The question burns hot on the tongue, but I swallow it down. Hopefully, we’ll get to talk about it properly sometime in the future. 

The day we know each other.

We make it to the top, albeit not effortlessly since I have to steady him when he almost trips on the last step. Panic and instinct rush through me when Jaebeom threatens to topple over, so I act quickly and shoulder more of his weight after clumsily steadying us both on the narrow staircase. 

“Are you going to be alright?” I ask, out of breath. The adrenaline of the potential danger has spent whatever energy I had, the muscles in my limbs melted.

“I will be,” he weakly answers. 

I gently let his arm glide from my shoulders, the removal of the weight simultaneously a relief and a missed presence. The attempt at letting him stand on his own feet is successful, although his hand shakes as he unlocks the front door.

The feverish fingers glide from the doorknob to entwine with mine once more before his tongue runs over my lips again. Despite this being the third time it happens, it still doesn’t fail to bewilder me nor bring a boyish smirk to his face when I look at him, speechless.

“Thanks. Today nice. I-,” he starts up and averts his gaze to the side, a rosy flush on his cheeks, “I mean, today was nice.”

I put my hand on the side of his face, gently compelling him to look at me. A cheeky idea rises in my mind, tempting me to go against my very nature.

Which I do.

Standing on the tips of my toes, I close my eyes and give him a peck on the cheek. The action surprises us both because he looks utterly gobsmacked when I have gathered very piece and sliver of the courage needed to look up at him.

However, before I can utter a word, a hesitating hand reaches out to carefully brush against my cheek, the touch as light as the fall of a feather on porcelain. The gentleness of the contact forms a funny contrast to the roughness when he firmly presses his lips on mine the second after.

Musk mingled with the musty perfume of books, warmth of spices and bitter coffee with a hint of fresh cologne fills my nose and overtakes the senses. My brain short-circuits, filled with a strange primal instinct no one has ever awakened before. Notwithstanding, something in the way our bodies harmonize in the small yet passionate contact triggers it, leaving me wanting more.

Skin on skin.

Just us.

But it’s too early and we barely know each other. This isn’t right. Not now, at least.

Hence is why I pull away, taking a step back with the imprint of his moustache ticklish on my lips. 

A whimper like an abandoned puppy erupts from his throat as he chases after my mouth. Nevertheless, when I take a step back to avoid further contact, he gives up and lowers his head. However, as rapidly as disappointment had overtaken him, he rights himself and clears his throat. When he speaks up, the words come out in a mumbled mess. “I- I’m sorry. That was too direct.”

“No, it’s fine,” I reassure him, vaguely gesturing with one hand while I rub the back of my neck with the other. “I- I liked it, but let’s not- Do you... really see me that way?”

“In what way?” he asks, blinking as he gives me a blank look. But, the meaning dawns on him after a moment in which I badly try to articulate what I mean. 

He grabs my right wrist, the one he bit, and holds it up for me to see. The broken skin has already healed a bit, but it’s still sensitive and throbbing, especially now that JB puts pressure on it. “I didn’t do this out of some de- del- confused?”

“Delirious?” I help him, wondering what point he is about to try and convince me of. 

“Delirious! I didn’t do this out of a delirious frenzy. This means something to me. Something important. To me, this is us.” JB takes in a deep breath to steady himself, his voice strained as he seems to hold something in. “What I want for us. And I want others to know this because you’re my territory.”

“I’m just a friend.”

And scared of losing you to Love.

“You are, but you’re also more to me. I know you said you want to take things slow and I agree with that.’’ His expression softens, dark eyes filled with tender affection. ‘’However, I want you to know how I really feel about you.”

“I don’t want to risk our friendship.”

“Me too. Yet,” he closes the distance and cups my face, his thumbs lovingly brushing my cheeks, “you deserve to know my intentions. Know I want to take the risk when you’re ready to do so too.”

“Thank you.” I run my hands over his arms, his body heat warming my palms through the fabric of the sleeves. It’s a pleasant thought, knowing he is there to catch me should my knees give out. Which is likely to happen as the leftover tension from our trip upstairs fades and affection fills the heart. 

“For what?”

“Waiting.”

Until I figure out when it’s the right time.

He nips at the tip of my nose, his tongue cheeky in its feather light touch. “I always will. Do you have any plans tomorrow?”

“I’m going out for tea with a friend.” The delight in his expression sours as it did in the park, the confident playfulness replaced by a vicious brooding. The autumn chill cools my face, the warmth and safety of his hands fallen away. 

Turned to stone by the suppressed vehemence, I stumble over my words as I swiftly explain myself. “She is an old friend I met at university. We go out for tea or coffee often, especially before I have to go on a trip.”

“Ah, I see.” He hangs his head in remorse, but perks up immediately as if remembering something. “I got you something. Wait here.”

He rushes inside, coming back soon after with two books in his hands which he holds out to me. A collection of Keats’s poems and Songs of Innocence and Experience by William Blake.

The books I read when we met.

“For you,” JB happily announces, the bright proud ring in his voice distorting it to sound like a bark. “So you have something to read when you’re away.”

 “Thank you so much. That’s so sweet of you.” I accept the gift, showing my gratitude in the brush over his fingers as I take the books from his hands. “I should get you something in return.”

“Just send me a reminder to take my medication every day.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “That’s all I want.”

I nod. “I can do that.”

“And a text you arrived home safely.”

“Of course.”

“And let me pick you up from the airport when you come back.”

“My, do you have any other demands?”

Lips pursed as if seriously considering the rhetorical remark, Jaebeom tilts his head to the side. “Well, eating together again would be nice. Maybe we can go around town and try out various cafés and go bookshop hopping? I could also cook for you at least once a week, though I’ll have to ask Jinyoung to teach me.”

Oh my God, he really is serious.

Before he continues adding to the evidently growing list, I cut him off. “Okay, okay, I hear you. One thing at a time, alright?”

“Right,” he chuckles, “one thing at a time.”

“I’m gonna go.” With a heavy heart full of reluctance, I initiate our goodbyes. “Go to bed and get some rest before your fever worsens. I’ll text you tomorrow.”

“Can I have one more kiss?”

“Of course.”

I stand on the tip of my toes and tenderly press my lips against his. “Goodnight, Jaebeom.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

I ascend the stairs, but do not head home immediately. Instead, I remain where I stand and turn around to wave at the wolfish man gazing down at me.

One more moment with him.

Before I set off on the homebound journey in the next.

Above, the moon is waning.

Yesterday evening, Morgan sent pictures of the place she has chosen for our next tea adventure, lyrical about the interior. Since the moment we met, in our first year of studying journalism at the local university, we have been visiting coffee shops and tea rooms around the country and occasionally written an article about them for the university’s blog. Our adventures always begin the same, never having changed in the six years we have known each other.

A picture.

And a rant about aesthetics, reviews, and the potential of having discovered a hidden gem.

The latter might be the case of Moon Bunny Coffee and Tea, a tea room inspired by the French countryside. The far wall is made of bare brick, which forms a strangely yet nice contrast to the white wooden furniture and neatly set tables. From the speakers in the corners of the establishment, instrumental pieces and French songs alternate each other to enhance the atmosphere that makes one feel as if they are truly in France. And if the interior does nothing for the imagination, the pastries and beverage names noted in French on the menu will do the trick. 

It’s only recently opened and is run by a young couple. Élise, the owner, has opened this establishment after working in various patisseries in Paris during her teenage years. However, she has now settled here with who I actually presume rather than know is her partner. According to the context Morgan sent, the tall guy with pale blond hair, oval narrow face and a leather necklace with a strange bauble - that seems to change colour - hanging from it is called Mark. The level of familiarity between the two as they work makes it easy to assume there is more than friendship, hence the suspected relation between the two.

“So, have you seen him again?” Morgan takes a sip of her cinnamon and apple tea, a smirk on her cherry red lips.

I told her about Jaebeom and the strange first encounter with him. Regardless of the weird amiability that grew between us as the hours passed in each other’s company, I could not help but remain wary. After all, the bookseller has a particular reputation thanks to the rumours created by the local gossip mill. In hindsight, it’s idiotic I used those groundless stories in my analysis or, rather, overanalysis of the kindness he showed me. Yet, I did, though they sound as absurd as they did before now that I know him better.

Notwithstanding, whereas I was losing my sanity anxious bit by anxious bit as I told her about it over the phone, Morgan’s enthusiasm grew at the same rate. Each argument in favour of the concern about my strangeness or far-fetched theory he was merely polite, she countered with a more realistic view on the situation. In the end, it’s also her input which led to me dropping by Paper Souls on the way to work and back on a daily basis.

And I’m glad she’s part of the reason I did because I might otherwise have given up after the third day of seeing the bookshelves cast in shadows. 

“I have,” I admit, unable to suppress a smile at the memory of our outing to the park.

And what came after.

The memory of the chafing of his moustache triggers a phantom of the loving warmth of his lips on mine. Cheeks heat up, remembering the roughness of his sturdy hands. A sharp sting followed by a throbbing treks through my wrist again, the half-healed wound suffering from a pleasant phantom pain.  

“Judging by that grin of yours, you’re not telling me everything.” Morgan cuts her scone in half and smears some of the homemade strawberry jam it comes with on one half, followed by a dollop of clotted cream. 

I nibble on the rice cake filled with red bean paste. Maybe it’s not a perfect partner to the tea I chose although it makes for a delicious combination regardless. The taste of red beans is an acquired one, but the subtle sweetness evens out the bitterness of the beverage. “We went on somewhat of a date.”

“Somewhat?”

“It kind of just happened.” The whiskey tea I ordered is stronger than I thought, howbeit not in an unpleasant way. Like the real drink, it goes down smoothly and warms the body from within. “He offered to go out for lunch in the park and I agreed. It was nice. Really nice.”

Especially his body heat, the safety of his presence. How protected I felt despite not knowing him all that well.

“And?”

“And?” I repeat like a parrot. I know what she’s unconsciously aiming at, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I’ll tell her outright. It’s always fun to tease the raven-haired woman a little. 

“Details, lass!” 

“We kissed,” I say, the confession hardly louder than a whisper. ‘’And I was the one to initiate it.’’

“How scandalous.” In fake shock, she clasps her hand over her mouth. “You’re a bold one, Y/N.”

“Oh, stop it.” I take a sip of tea and point at the other half of her scone. “Clotted cream with jam instead of the other way around now?”

As a fierce defender of both sides of the old discussion, Morgan indeed now smears the fluffy white cream on the other half first before she tops it off with the jam. “You really like him, don’t you?”

“I do, but I’m not sure if there’s a future for us.” I lean back, cross my arms and look out the window. 

A little distance away, there’s a metal bench and somehow an image of myself sits on it, alone. No wonder she looks glum because she is the me of the future, a woman who’s heart was devoted to the type of love that is, like humans, a plaything of Time.  

She tilts her head to the side, brow furrowed. “How do you mean?”

“It’s not my place to say this, but,’’ I turn back to her, absent-mindedly rubbing the mark on my wrist, ‘’he told me he has this condition that’s kinda like dementia, but he gave off the impression it’s also not. I don’t know what’s going on, only that there’s a deadline. A cruel one, and while I know avoiding it is futile, I’m not ready to face it nor will I ever be.”

The confusion on her face lightens to understanding concern. However, despite her features softening, there remains a hint of brooding in her attitude. “I see. It’s like that,” she murmurs cryptically as she takes a bite of her scone, more to herself than as a reply to me. “The story is repeating itself.”

“Morgan,” the mention of her name makes the raven-haired woman snap out of her reverie, “what do you mean?”

Instead of providing a proper answer, she dismisses the questions with a vague gesture. “Just the murmurs of an old soul.”

There is inherent beauty in the medieval cities of Europe that leaves one in awe wherever they go. Furthermore, the shops specialized in local goods and hidden gems add to the flair of narrow streets enclosed by tall buildings that breathe history. Nevertheless, regardless of the ancient beauty, there is nothing which can compete with a warm bed at the end of a day full of running from one end of the town to the other in search of the best chocolatiers.

Well, there is one thing.

As I’m putting on my pyjamas, my phone gives off a light buzz, indicating a new message. 

Jaebeom: Can we video call? I miss your face. 

You... You miss seeing me?

In spite of the unease of not having makeup on, I oblige and call him first. It has not even gone over once before messy black locks show up on screen. However, before he can have a good look at me, I quickly slink beneath the blanket.

“What’re you doing?” He, too, is in bed howbeit without any insecurity whatsoever. In fact, he is more than comfortable wearing not even a top regardless of the chilly weather, leaving defined collarbones and defined chest muscles on display. 

“I’m not wearing makeup, so I look horrible.”

And you showing up like this doesn’t help either.

Because the bare skin, little as it is, unleashes a storm of butterflies in the stomach. The temperature in the room rises or maybe it is simply my body reacting to the aching to run my fingertips over his definitions, the features that unintentionally unleash an absurd frenzy holding the middle between unashamed love and lust. The cheeks heat up as the need for the thick comforter decreases yet the growing discomfort is not enough to come out of hiding. 

“I’m sure you don’t.” Either intentionally or not, he puts on irresistible puppy eyes. The well-meant tenderness in his voice also stirs something in me, charmed by the kindness. “Please don’t hide. I want to see you.”

Although reluctant, I lower the sheets. 

Only to want to pull them over my head at his words and the stupidly bright smile accompanying them. “You’re even prettier like this.”

“Shut up, you weird wolf,” I grumble, jaw clenched as I strain myself not to hide again. To distract us both, I change the topic. “Did you take your meds?”

“I did! And I mean it. No, no, no! Get out from under there. Y/N, come on. I’m not lying. You are pretty. And caring and nice and-’’

“You’re handsome.” I glare at him, peeking just over the edge of the sheet. Unfortunately, my revenge isn’t successful since it merely yields a low chuckle.

Though it seems the victory is still mine because he bites on his bottom lip and softens his voice further to a timid whisper. “Even with my new look?” 

He shows off the mess of his shorter black locks, which are shaved on the side and longer on top. It’s a shame to see the long hair go because I personally think it suits him better, but he pulls the cooler style off too.

“Even more so because of it.” Although they’re essentially minor changes, it casts Jaebeom in a whole other light. He’s still a wolfish man, and I doubt I’ll ever see him as something else, but the new look gives him a more human allure. As if he’s tuned in better to life in the city instead of wandering the rough landscape in his mind. 

“I’ll tell Jinyoung he did a good job, then.” He gets up on his elbow, a view of the upper part of his chest filling the small screen. The veins in his hand form mellow ridges on the back of it, highlighting a few patches where the skin has scraped off, as he fluffs his pillow before lying down again and snuggling into it to get comfortable. “How’s Bruges?”

“It’s a really pretty city. I think you’d like it.” A wistful smile forms on my lips, in part dazed by the entrancing sight a moment ago. “I wish you were here. Wish we could get lost forever... together! I mean, get lost together. Here. In the city.”

“Are you getting sleepy?” His features soften into a dreamy expression though a cheeky spark illuminates the night sky in his eyes. 

“No,” I fiercely protest. That is, until an involuntary yawn escapes me, which makes it impossible to hide the fatigue of running about town the entire day anymore. “Maybe.”

“Go to sleep, Y/N.”

“Don’t want to. We’ve only been talking for a few minutes.” I conceal another yawn by pulling up the comforter.

“You likely have another busy day ahead. So go hit the hay and I’ll talk to you in my dream.”

“Who says I won’t do the same?’’ I remark smugly, proud of the comment that pops up and is too tempting not to make. ‘’Wouldn’t that make it our dream?”

“We’ll talk in our dream,” he corrects himself, a content hum following the correction. Notwithstanding, the delight darkens into a stern seriousness as he tries to look over my shoulder to scan the room, to inspect every nook and cranny instead of what’s on display in the background. “By the way, what’s your colleague doing? Are you alone?”

I roll my eyes and sigh. “He has his own room because he tends to want more of the local taste, if you know what I mean.”

“I don’t.” A deeply puzzled expression forms on his face, clearing the spine-chilling suspicion. “Is that code for something?”

“An affair, JB. My colleague more often than not enjoys a one-night stand, if not more, with local girls. It depends on how long we’re away.”

“Have you ever done that?” It has to be the exhaustion, but the question strangely sounds like a whine.  

“Never. In fact, you...” I bite my lip as my stomach ties itself into a nauseating knot, chest constricted with bleak worry about what he will say about the confession balancing precariously on the tip of the tongue. However, I swallow hard and continue the unfinished sentence. “You’re the first guy I’ve dated.”

“We’re dating?”

“Are we?” His question makes me wonder if we actually are, if I didn’t jump to a fantastical conclusion. Then again, we kissed, went out together, and drank coffee in his shop. Nevertheless, also judging by the curiosity in his response, I doubt it’s right for me to assume it’s true. “Well, maybe we aren’t. After all, we’ve only been to the park, so I suppose-’’

I’m wrong, because we barely know each other and yet. Yet, I kissed him. And he kissed me back. Is that anything to go by, a valid reason?

“We’re dating!” The sudden outburst catches me as much off-guard as the enthusiastic addition or, rather, plan for when I return. “I’ll cook for you after bringing you home. Afterwards, we can just sit on the couch and read. You can also nap on me to cure your jet lag. Does that count as a date?”

“I don’t know if it does according to the official terms, but,” the fatigue ebbs away, replaced by the giddiness of going home as soon as possible, “it does to me.”

“Two dates,” he murmurs thoughtfully, nodding as if confirming an unspoken notion. “We’re dating.”

Weirdo.

I watch him analyze the situation, overcome with affection. When he bites down on his index finger to suppress a broad grin, I almost have to do the same. 

“I wish I was there with you,” Jaebeom eventually notes to break the twilight hush, at last content on where we stand. The yearning of the wish is tangible in my bones because I feel the same way, though I try not to show it. “I should’ve given you a shirt or something, but I wasn’t sure if it would be good. That’s not the word. Ap... ap... appropropiate? Appropriate. If it would be that.”

“I do have the books you gave me, so I do have a piece of you here.”

But I do miss your scent. Wait, that’s weird to say. I shouldn’t say that.

Though it’s indeed strange and I don’t tell him, it isn’t a lie. Jaebeom does smell nice, like a wild forest in which the air is scented by a cologne that barely conceals its secret. The ferocious guardian in the shadows. 

 “Still, I wish I had given you something that marks you as mine.” Gaze downcast, the big wolf man pouts at the thought, sulking. 

“You have.” I hold up my wrist, the place where he bit me now nothing but a red blotch.

“It’s almost gone. I should renew that once you’re back. A shirt and bite. That should show other males we’re together,” he muses, the disappointment gone in an instant as his focus changes.

“Totally not possessive, are we?”

“I’m not,” he grumbles. “Just marking my territory.”

“JB, you are.”

“Does it bother you, make you upset?”

“Yes and no.” I take in a shaky breath, distracted by the thought of the implications I want him to be. After all, something about the feral allure melts any resistance and lets me slip into a headspace I didn’t know I had. 

Somewhere, deeply hidden in the brain, there’s a different woman, a different ego. A part of me which wants and needs him. That doesn’t mind being his possession.

His mate. 

“Don’t get me wrong-’’

“How can I get you good?”

The unintentional play on words uttered by urgent yet confused puppy eyes distracts me from the splendid explanation I wanted to give him.

How... How does he do it? Does he even know what he’s doing? Never mind.

“Don’t misunderstand me,” I begin anew, “I appreciate your concern for me and I really do feel safe with you. But you bit me. In public too! I get it’s your way of telling me you like me and maybe I don’t actually mind the mark you left behind so much-’’

“So it’s not the biting?” A boyish smirk plays on his lips. Had he had an actual tail, it would have been swishing heavily with a dangerous cheer. “I can do it again?”

“No.”

Maybe someday I’ll let you. But not anytime soon.

“But you said you didn’t mind my mark. If that isn’t a problem, why can’t I refresh it?”

“Jaebeom, please, let me finish talking.”

“Sorry.”

“Thank you.” I take in a deep breath. “Now, normal human couples don’t bite each other to let others and one another know they belong together. So let’s try to find other ways to do just that. Commonly, the girl wears the guy’s shirt. I think that’s a good starting point for us.”

“What are other ‘ways’?” he asks, evidently not too keen on the idea.

I tilt my head, trying to come up with the most frequent ways in which people casually express being taken without immediately suggesting obvious physical marks. “Necklaces, bracelets and rings are common couple items. Some even go as far as getting matching tattoos.”

“I like the sound of that, a tattoo. Permanent. Permanent human mark.”

“Let me think about that one, okay?”

“Okay.” He nods in agreement. “But, if I understand you correctly, I can give you a shirt.”

“You can.”

“And you’ll wear it because it has my scent on it.”

“That’s kind of the idea behind it,” I confirm, glad he understands the underlying meaning despite not explaining it.

He looks down at his chest only to discover he’s not wearing anything. The glance over his shoulder falls on a black shirt somewhere behind him. He turns away, grabs the piece of clothing and holds it tightly against his body when he turns back to me. “Sounds good to me.”

I guess I’ll be given a ‘welcome home’ present.

[waywardsons-imagines]

I’m Not Okay

Author - Admin Aingeal

Characters - Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Y/N

Pairing - None

Summary/Request - When Y/N runs off on yet another suicide mission, the brothers find her having taken down an entire nest of vampires. They are determined to figure out what has been driving her, before it’s too late.

Word Count - 1,960

Warnings - Angst, Descriptions of Depression, Mentions of Blood (from killing vampires) (If you spot any other warnings I should add, please let me know so I can edit this post to include them!)

A/N - Based on the song “I’m Not Okay” by Citizen Soldier

Story -

The rain was pouring. With everything I had been dealing with inside, it was as if the sky decided to cry with me and just let it all out at once.

I stood there in the parking lot with my arms out as if I was trying to catch the water with my bare hands.

Machete in one hand - blood dripping onto the pavement from my fingers & the large blade, more still running down my shirt and finding its way to the ground around me, mixing with the water to form unique artwork around me.

Tonight - the monsters that inhabit my brain are screaming so damn loud. I can’t ignore them any longer. The walls I built up so that I would never have to hear their voices couldn’t go any higher.

I hear the rumble of an engine in the distance. They are approaching quickly, sure, but will they make it in time?

The person that they see, day in and day out, is nothing more than a mask. A facade. A blatant lie.

But it’s also the only way to cope that I’ve ever known.

Being the real me - broken, scared, desperate for something I can never obtain - has only ever resulted in being more and more alone in this world.

I hear the purr of the engine a short distance behind me - the doors slamming shut in their hurry, and their booming voices carrying through over the din of the downpour.

“Y/N! What the hell were you thinking?!”

Their footsteps cause distinct splashes as they make their way to where I stand. I find the sound amusing for as morbid a moment this has become.

“Dean, chill,” Sam interjected, seemingly noticing my exasperation of their presence. “She’s fine; that’s the important thing.”

I am far more thankful for the water falling from the sky than I ever have been before. It is hiding the falling tears and making it that much easier to replace the mask I need for the interaction ahead.

“Sorry guys,” I keep my tone stoic and passively positive as always as I turn to face them. “I got a lead, and I took my chance before they could move again.”

“Sorry?” Dean bit out. “All you can say is ‘sorry guys’? We were worried sick, Y/N!” His voice was rough as always.

“Dean!”

“No, Sam! Not this time!” His hand was out, waving to dismiss his brother. “What the fuck is going on with you, Y/N!? Sneaking off, not telling a damn one of us where the hell you’re going off to. Taking on demons, werewolves, even a fucking wendigo - ALONE.”

I felt unattached from my body. As if watching overhead at the scene playing out below me. With a stoic blink, I heard myself respond, “I don’t see what the big deal is. I came out of each one alive and well.”

I sidestep the brothers and start the sadly short journey to my car on the other side of the vast open lot.

“Look, Y/N,” Sam said softly. I could just hear the resignation. “We’re just worried. Taking on those creatures is dangerous; let alone doing it without backup. And now you’re here taking out an entire nest of vampires?”

He tried to stay strong - not the ever tough soldier his brother was, but the solid rock we all came to expect. I could hear his voice break, though, despite his best efforts.

I turn back and lock eyes with each of them again, all while still taking steps back toward the vehicles. I could feel how dead my stare was; I could feel how painfully emotionless my face rested.

‘I’m not okay - can’t you see that?’ I want to shout at them.

I have so much to say, but no one to hear it.

Despite how much is at stake, keeping quiet not burdening the brothers - or their angel - with the battle inside myself.

I feel the emotions clash - the want and the need to tell them everything, right here and right now - the futility of it, seeping in and convincing me they don’t care.

So, I let the monsters win, silencing me once again. Lying to myself, they’d never understand why it’s so hard to say that I’m not okay.

“I’m fine, Sam. Really.”

“Then what is your excuse?” Dean cut in. “What is your reason for going out on these suicide missions? I mean, come on Y/N, let’s face it - you’re either hell-bent on destruction, or you’re just being stupid. And we both know you are smarter than Sam and I put together. So what’s the deal? What’s next? Trying to take on HellHounds?!”

I blinked heavily.

I wish I had an answer. I wish I had a scar, a bruise, something to show the proof of the battles I face, day in and day out. Something to show for the invisible abuse - faced with the choice to either be judged or hideaway in secret as I inevitably choose to do.

I let out a soft but long sigh. “I have no answer for you. Not one you’d accept anyway.”

Words may be my only option. The only visible symptom to show for the battle that wages is the sheer desire to end the torment that is my life.

I look at the two of them for a moment before finally breaking away to turn back - back to my car, back to my escape, back to a place where they can’t see the battle playing out in my mind. I can only hide so much. The tears were beginning to fall once again.

I hear the steps approaching. Their long strides make it easy work to catch up to where I am. Feeling a hand grip my upper arm and spin me around quickly - my face must have physically shown how distraught and angry I am. Unable to hide my emotions as I usually would - my gaze clashed with the glaring green eyes of Dean’s boring into me.

The reason I say my face must’ve revealed more than I wanted is because, after a long but instant moment, I saw his face drop.

In all the years we’ve been fighting together, he has never seen this side of me, and for a good reason.

“Y/N? Wh-” he releases his grip on my arm, running his hand down his face, contemplating. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing, Dean,” I say, schooling my features. “Forget it.” Quickly I ground myself, now trying to turn my features to stone - removing any trace of the ever hidden emotions that were trying to pour out.

“Bullshit.” His voice stopped me dead in my tracks. “Talk to me,” he said and shared a silent look to his brother, almost as if to confirm he didn’t imagine things, “Talk to us.”

“What’s going on, Y/N?” Sam joined. “You know you don’t have to hide things from us.”

“I’m fine. Just -”

“No. You’re not, okay,” Sam interjected, joining Dean in speaking firmly. “Something is wrong; tell us.” Sam was quiet for a moment before adding, “Please.”

I felt guilty as I noticed his voice break.

Staring at the brothers, I felt a mixture of emotions — contempt, love, bitterness, relief.

“Fine,” I bit out.

Perhaps knowing it was a losing battle, I caved for the first time in my life. “I’m not okay. You’re right. But I don’t have the words to explain the hell that goes on within my mind on a daily basis.”

“Try.” Dean retorted instantly, seamlessly - I hadn’t even finished speaking. I knew he was trying to offer comfort, in his ‘unattached,’ ‘too cool for attachment’ way.

“Humor us,” he added after a beat of me not responding.

I looked at him with a pinched look, shaking my head. I could feel every emotion ripping through me like a storm.

“I am in a constant state of being numb, Dean,” I finally said. “Numb to emotions, numb to life itself. Most people survive because they can see that light at the end of the tunnel - but for me?” I shake my head. “There is no light. It’s all just a dark cage without a key, just suffocating darkness and weight, with demons screaming at me. I don’t control my thoughts anymore; they control me.”

Sam shook his head now. “Y/N, why didn’t you say something? We can help you get through whatever this is.” Sam tried taking my hand, trying to offer some sort of comfort.

“It’s not a phase, Sam.” I pull my hand free abruptly, ignoring the pain in my chest from seeing Sam’s hurt expression. “It’s who I am, all I ever have been. I’m never going to be safe, always inching closer to that final breaking point.”

Dean seemed exasperated. “That’s fine,” he said. “If you break, that’s okay. Just don’t hide, and don’t go running off.”

Dean wrapped his arms around me with a strength I couldn’t gently pull away from, pulling me in close but still speaking loud enough that Sam could hear, “We’ll help you pick up the pieces. We’re a family, like it or not, punk. As a member of this family, you’re not allowed to quit.”

My brow furrowed the moment he called me family.

Dean, holding me at arm's length, graced me with a small, awkward smile. “Look, this may be a battle you feel you have to face solo, and so be it,” he motioned with one of his hands as if dismissing the thought, “but don’t quit on us. Sam and I, we’re here, always. Even if you just need to sit in silence with someone, so you aren’t alone. We get it; we’ve all been through a lot.”

I couldn’t stop staring at him, conflicted and upset - his grip on my arms felt heavy. Itchy and uncomfortable, as the only place I wanted to be right now was in my car. The rain had long since stopped or lightened - I couldn’t tell - but I just wanted to start the engine — bake in the heater. Drive.

After a long awkward beat of silence, Dean rolled his eyes lightly in slight awkward annoyance. “This is the part where you say: ‘back atcha! We’re a team!’ Y/N.”

I took light offense to how he mocked my voice, but it didn’t matter.

With a light, honestly fake feeling laugh, I removed his arms from mine.

“You don’t entirely get it, Dean.”

Dean scoffed lightly. “What, are you saying we don’t have hard times too? I can guarantee we—“

In an outburst I couldn’t control, I snapped. “Stop! Okay?? I’m not dismissing that you two have had a shitty life! I’m saying you don’t hear what goes on in my head, Dean.”

Sam, raising a placating hand, tried to calm me. “Please, Y/N, we may not understand what exactly is going on, but we understand your reactions to it.”

I just stood still, breathing hard - trying so hard not to cry.

Sam took this as a sign to continue. “Y/N, we care for you. And honestly, we don’t think anyone should be alone with thoughts like that.”

I felt my face melt like paper catching on fire - every emotion displayed as I felt my chin tense, and my lips quiver as I burst into tears.

The brothers’ embrace was welcome, however wet.

The emotions were not as welcome, but it was unstoppable.

Dean was closest to my ear as I sobbed, and I heard him softly say, “You’re not okay, but you will be. We’re with you every step of the way.”

A part of me hated him saying that, but I couldn’t ignore the relief I felt.

Maybe I would be okay.

[aingealcethlenn]

I'm Not Okay

Characters - Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Y/N

Pairing - None

Summary/Request - When Y/N runs off on yet another suicide mission, the brothers find her having taken down an entire nest of vampires. They are determined to figure out what has been driving her, before it’s too late.

Word Count - 1,960

Warnings - Angst, Descriptions of Depression, Mentions of Blood (from killing vampires) (If you spot any other warnings I should add, please let me know so I can edit this post to include them!)

A/N - Based on the song “I’m Not Okay” by Citizen Soldier

Tags (Want on or off? Send a message/ask or add yourself here) - N/A

Story -

The rain was pouring. With everything I had been dealing with inside, it was as if the sky decided to cry with me and just let it all out at once. I stood there in the parking lot with my arms out as if I was trying to catch the water with my bare hands.

Machete in one hand - blood dripping onto the pavement from my fingers & the large blade, more still running down my shirt and finding its way to the ground around me, mixing with the water to form unique artwork around me.

Tonight - the monsters that inhabit my brain are screaming so damn loud. I can’t ignore them any longer. The walls I built up so that I would never have to hear their voices couldn’t go any higher.

I hear the rumble of an engine in the distance. They are approaching quickly, sure, but will they make it in time?

The person that they see, day in and day out, is nothing more than a mask. A facade. A blatant lie.

But it’s also the only way to cope that I’ve ever known.

Being the real me - broken, scared, desperate for something I can never obtain - has only ever resulted in being more and more alone in this world.

I hear the purr of the engine a short distance behind me - the doors slamming shut in their hurry, and their booming voices carrying through over the din of the downpour. “Y/N! What the hell were you thinking?!”

Their footsteps cause distinct splashes as they make their way to where I stand. I find the sound amusing for as morbid a moment this has become. “Dean, chill,” Sam interjected, seemingly noticing my exasperation of their presence. “She’s fine; that’s the important thing.”

I am far more thankful for the water falling from the sky than I ever have been before. It is hiding the falling tears and making it that much easier to replace the mask I need for the interaction ahead.

“Sorry guys,” I keep my tone stoic and passively positive as always as I turn to face them. “I got a lead, and I took my chance before they could move again.”

“Sorry?” Dean bit out. “All you can say is ‘sorry guys’? We were worried sick, Y/N!” His voice was rough as always.

“Dean!”

“No, Sam! Not this time!” His hand was out, waving to dismiss his brother. “What the fuck is going on with you, Y/N!? Sneaking off, not telling a damn one of us where the hell you’re going off to. Taking on demons, werewolves, even a fucking wendigo - ALONE.”

I felt unattached from my body. As if watching overhead at the scene playing out below me. With a stoic blink, I heard myself respond, “I don’t see what the big deal is. I came out of each one alive and well.” I sidestep the brothers and start the sadly short journey to my car on the other side of the vast open lot.

“Look, Y/N,” Sam said softly. I could just hear the resignation. “We’re just worried. Taking on those creatures is dangerous; let alone doing it without backup. And now you’re here taking out an entire nest of vampires?” He tried to stay strong - not the ever tough soldier his brother was, but the solid rock we all came to expect. I could hear his voice break, though, despite his best efforts.

I turn back and lock eyes with each of them again, all while still taking steps back toward the vehicles. I could feel how dead my stare was; I could feel how painfully emotionless my face rested.

‘I’m not okay - can’t you see that?’ I want to shout at them. I have so much to say, but no one to hear it. Despite how much is at stake, keeping quiet not burdening the brothers - or their angel - with the battle inside myself.

I feel the emotions clash - the want and the need to tell them everything, right here and right now - the futility of it, seeping in and convincing me they don’t care. So, I let the monsters win, silencing me once again. Lying to myself, they’d never understand why it’s so hard to say that I’m not okay. “I’m fine, Sam. Really.”

“Then what is your excuse?” Dean cut in. “What is your reason for going out on these suicide missions? I mean, come on Y/N, let’s face it - you’re either hell-bent on destruction, or you’re just being stupid. And we both know you are smarter than Sam and I put together. So what’s the deal? What’s next? Trying to take on HellHounds?!”

I blinked heavily. I wish I had an answer. I wish I had a scar, a bruise, something to show the proof of the battles I face, day in and day out. Something to show for the invisible abuse - faced with the choice to either be judged or hideaway in secret as I inevitably choose to do.

I let out a soft but long sigh. “I have no answer for you. Not one you’d accept anyway.” Words may be my only option. The only visible symptom to show for the battle that wages is the sheer desire to end the torment that is my life.

I look at the two of them for a moment before finally breaking away to turn back - back to my car, back to my escape, back to a place where they can’t see the battle playing out in my mind. I can only hide so much. The tears were beginning to fall once again.

I hear the steps approaching. Their long strides make it easy work to catch up to where I am. Feeling a hand grip my upper arm and spin me around quickly - my face must have physically shown how distraught and angry I am. Unable to hide my emotions as I usually would - my gaze clashed with the glaring green eyes of Dean’s boring into me.

The reason I say my face must’ve revealed more than I wanted is because, after a long but instant moment, I saw his face drop. In all the years we’ve been fighting together, he has never seen this side of me, and for a good reason.

“Y/N? Wh-” he releases his grip on my arm, running his hand down his face, contemplating. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing, Dean,” I say, schooling my features. “Forget it.” Quickly I ground myself, now trying to turn my features to stone - removing any trace of the ever hidden emotions that were trying to pour out.

“Bullshit.” His voice stopped me dead in my tracks. “Talk to me,” he said and shared a silent look to his brother, almost as if to confirm he didn’t imagine things, “Talk to us.”

“What’s going on, Y/N?” Sam joined. “You know you don’t have to hide things from us.”

“I’m fine. Just -”

“No. You’re not, okay,” Sam interjected, joining Dean in speaking firmly. “Something is wrong; tell us.” Sam was quiet for a moment before adding, “Please.” I felt guilty as I noticed his voice break.

Staring at the brothers, I felt a mixture of emotions — contempt, love, bitterness, relief. “Fine,” I bit out.

Perhaps knowing it was a losing battle, I caved for the first time in my life. “I’m not okay. You’re right. But I don’t have the words to explain the hell that goes on within my mind on a daily basis.”

“Try.” Dean retorted instantly, seamlessly - I hadn’t even finished speaking. I knew he was trying to offer comfort, in his ‘unattached,’ ‘too cool for attachment’ way. “Humor us,” he added after a beat of me not responding.

I looked at him with a pinched look, shaking my head. I could feel every emotion ripping through me like a storm. “I am in a constant state of being numb, Dean,” I finally said. “Numb to emotions, numb to life itself. Most people survive because they can see that light at the end of the tunnel - but for me?” I shake my head. “There is no light. It’s all just a dark cage without a key, just suffocating darkness and weight, with demons screaming at me. I don’t control my thoughts anymore; they control me.”

Sam shook his head now. “Y/N, why didn’t you say something? We can help you get through whatever this is.” Sam tried taking my hand, trying to offer some sort of comfort.

“It’s not a phase, Sam.” I pull my hand free abruptly, ignoring the pain in my chest from seeing Sam’s hurt expression. “It’s who I am, all I ever have been. I’m never going to be safe, always inching closer to that final breaking point.”

Dean seemed exasperated. “That’s fine,” he said. “If you break, that’s okay. Just don’t hide, and don’t go running off.” Dean wrapped his arms around me with a strength I couldn’t gently pull away from, pulling me in close but still speaking loud enough that Sam could hear, “We’ll help you pick up the pieces. We’re a family, like it or not, punk. As a member of this family, you’re not allowed to quit.”

My brow furrowed the moment he called me family.

Dean, holding me at arm's length, graced me with a small, awkward smile. “Look, this may be a battle you feel you have to face solo, and so be it,” he motioned with one of his hands as if dismissing the thought, “but don’t quit on us. Sam and I, we’re here, always. Even if you just need to sit in silence with someone, so you aren’t alone. We get it; we’ve all been through a lot.”

I couldn’t stop staring at him, conflicted and upset - his grip on my arms felt heavy. Itchy and uncomfortable, as the only place I wanted to be right now was in my car. The rain had long since stopped or lightened - I couldn’t tell - but I just wanted to start the engine — Bake in the heater. Drive.

After a long awkward beat of silence, Dean rolled his eyes lightly in slight awkward annoyance. “This is the part where you say: ‘back atcha! We’re a team!’ Y/N.” I took light offense to how he mocked my voice, but it didn’t matter.

With a light, honestly fake feeling laugh, I removed his arms from mine. “You don’t entirely get it, Dean.”

Dean scoffed lightly. “What, are you saying we don’t have hard times too? I can guarantee we—“

In an outburst I couldn’t control, I snapped. “Stop! Okay?? I’m not dismissing that you two have had a shitty life! I’m saying you don’t hear what goes on in my head, Dean.”

Sam, raising a placating hand, tried to calm me. “Please, Y/N, we may not understand what exactly is going on, but we understand your reactions to it.”

I just stood still, breathing hard - trying so hard not to cry.

Sam took this as a sign to continue. “Y/N, we care for you. And honestly, we don’t think anyone should be alone with thoughts like that.”

I felt my face melt like paper catching on fire - every emotion displayed as I felt my chin tense, and my lips quiver as I burst into tears.

The brothers’ embrace was welcome, however wet.

The emotions were not as welcome, but it was unstoppable.

Dean was closest to my ear as I sobbed, and I heard him softly say, “You’re not okay, but you will be. We’re with you every step of the way.”

A part of me hated him saying that, but I couldn’t ignore the relief I felt. Maybe I would be okay.

[goosegoblin]

I hope you don't feel like you've been getting too many ED questions lately, feel free to ignore this if you do!

I just don't really know what to do. I always used to be told when I was younger that I couldn't have an ED because I wasn't thin enough. It's taken me years (and CBT) to get to the point where I can actually just eat and not constantly be anxious about eating in front of people. But I've been putting on weight recently (turns out pandemics are stressful) and my family have started going on about me looking fat etc. I don't want to be fat, but I'm worried that if I try to diet now I'll just go back to my old ways and undo all that work.

I guess what I want to ask is how do you find a midpoint? Is it normal to struggle so much?

Also thank you for replying to other people with such compassion when they ask you similar things.

Thank you for taking the time to reach out to me- I love you. You did a good thing in writing this message and I am proud of you.

Honestly, the thing is that eating disorders- and recovery- don’t occur in a vacuum. If I turn on the television, I’ll see diet ads. If I go on Facebook, I’ll see statuses about weight gain and weight loss. If I go on Reddit and there’s a gif or a video of a woman who dares to be overweight, half the comments will be about it. We are all affected by the society we live in, and the society we live in is one that glorifies thinness and undereating as signs of goodness. I’ll tuck the rest under a read more to keep this from being too long. 

I will give you an example with some details fudged for the sake of anonymity. At my last work place, myself and several other people all consider ourselves to be recovered from our EDs.  There was a strong culture of diet and weight loss talk among other staff, however, to the point when I had to start actively shutting it down on shift because of how much it was affecting some of the recovered people. Even if the people making comments didn’t mean to cause harm, they were causing harm- both to themselves and to others.

Your family clearly do not ‘get’ it. I will try not to read too much into what you said, but I will say that ‘going on about you looking fat’ does not seem like a healthy or supportive environment, and that I am genuinely sorry they speak to you so dismissively and unkindly. Much like my recovered friends, it is no surprise that when plunged into an environment that takes the toxic elements of diet culture and turns it up to eleven, you start to struggle more than usual.

Pandemics are, indeed, stressful! They also alter many parts of normal life. Turns out staying indoors all day with no routine and lots of anxiety/ panic can cause people to eat more and gain weight- who knew, right? If you want to try and make some changes to feel a little more healthy, that’s absolutely fine. I would recommend trying to get in some daily exercise if you can- most lockdowns still allow a daily walk, for example, and there’s literally countless yoga and stretching videos on the internet. You could look into stocking the house with healthier snacks, getting more involved with cooking, or using CBT tools to combat binge eating if that’s something you struggle with (the HALT tool being one that comes to mind). But at the same time, I would not say you need to diet, and I would especially say you should NOT diet in a toxic and damaging environment where the chance of relapse is especially high.

And you know what? It is better and healthier to be overweight and happy than it is to be an average weight with an eating disorder. If it helps, though, feel free to think of it this way- the pandemic will not last forever. You will not be in this place forever. Losing weight, even if it feels important, is not urgent. There is no need to take drastic action immediately. Your mental health will always be more important.

Oh, and I’m sure you know this, but weight is not the defining symptom of an ED. You can have any eating disorder, including (atypical) anorexia nervosa, at any weight. The people who told you you weighed too much to have an ED were incorrect, and also, I hate them.

You do not need to be less to be good enough. Reach out to me any time you want to chat.

I love you xx

[fizzyxcustard]

Fear and Loathing (2)

Chapter 1

Masterlist

Fandom: seaQuest 2032

Summary: (Part 2 of The Right Thing - this will be a chaptered fic) Captain Hudson knows that you and Lucas are more than just friends, and after changing your shift rotations to make sure you’re not on duty together, you take things into your own hands and request a transfer from seaQuest. Before your transfer can be processed, officers and crew begin showing signs of extreme anxiety, anger and paranoia. Some are worse affected than others, you being one of them. Can you fight for not only your relationship with Lucas but your state of mind?

Pairings: Ensign Lucas Wolenczak x FemLieutenant!Reader, Commander Jonathan Ford x Lieutenant Lonnie Henderson (only slight)

Warnings: Language, violence, insecurity, angst, paranoia, anxiety, mental instability, very mild sexual references, age difference/gap.

Comments: If you wish to be added to my seaQuest tag list, which will be separate from all my other tags, let me know, and I will only tag you in these if you specifically request to be tagged. This is practically a dead fandom now, but I would still like to share my writings with you. If you would like to ask any questions, then by all means just ask!

Captain Hudson ushered you into his quarters, and Lucas automatically followed on behind without any prompt. Lucas’ heart was racing frantically. He was losing you. And how could he stop it?

With a loud sigh, Hudson sat behind his desk. “I hope to get back to running this vessel sometime today,” he said sarcastically.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” you apologised. “I’m aware of problems that have occurred due to my personal conduct with Ensign Wolenczak, and that is why I wish to request a transfer.” You stood upright, your hands behind your back, much in contrast to Lucas’ defensive posture of his crossed arms.

Lucas was aghast at you. “You can’t!”

You placed your official request of transfer down on Hudson’s desk. “Thank you, Lieutenant,” Hudson said.

“You can’t actually accept this!” Lucas shouted, glaring at the Captain and pointing at the white envelope for emphasis.

Hudson’s jaw clenched in frustration and his eyes darkened. “You will control yourself, Ensign, or it will be you I transfer. She has every right to request transfer, and I thank you for your professionalism, Lieutenant.”

“Thank you, Sir,” you replied, still remaining composed.

“Ensign, please return to your station. Lieutenant, I’d like a word.”

Lucas looked at you sadly, a stray tear falling down his cheek. Then he left the room, his shoulders hunched, the weight of the world resting upon them.

You continued to be composed, despite your heart shattering. By giving in to your feelings and instincts, you were now jeopardising your career.

“Take a seat,” Hudson instructed. It was quite plain for him to see the pain in your eyes that you were trying so hard to conceal. Hudson’s face softened and he sighed. “I was his age once, believe it or not, and he still has a lot of growing up to do in order to fill that uniform. Losing either of you is the last thing that I want to see happen, but may I give you a piece of advice?”

“Of course.”

“Don’t keep letting him push you to take full responsibility for this. Be accountable for your actions, and yours alone. Maybe the shift rotation change was a little harsh. Whilst I consider your transfer request, you’ll go back to your original shift pattern as of now. However, outside of duty and meal times, you and Mr. Wolenczak are under strict orders to remain separated. If I find that either of you have broken this order, you’ll both be dismissed from duty immediately.”

“Thank you for understanding, Sir,” you said, saluted, and left.

You returned to the bridge and sat beside Lucas in your usual spot. “Keep quiet, and that’s an order, Ensign,” you instructed, never looking at him. However, you could imagine his expression, but couldn’t bring yourself to look.

“Is everything alright, Lieutenant?” Commander Ford asked, approaching your station.

“Yes, Commander. Captain Hudson has changed my shift rotation back to its original pattern while my request for transfer is considered.” You knew that the others on the bridge were having their ears filled with your personal business, but you resigned yourself to the fact that they would all eventually find out what was happening.

For the rest of the day you and Lucas remained quiet, barely speaking but a handful of words to each other, which were always in connection with duty. Each time Hudson gave an order, you could see Lucas’ jaw clench tight and sheer loathing flash in his eyes. Hudson had understood you far more than you ever thought he would, and considering his authority, he hadn’t brought punishment down upon you that was as firm as other captains. The very first captain of seaQuest, Marilyn Stark, who perished after going rogue in her extreme ideas, would have probably recommended complete stripping of your rank and Lucas’, calling for your dismissal from the Navy and UEO. No way would you have been employed for either again, not even for a desk job in headquarters. There were certainly harsher captains to serve under.

At dinner, Lucas came behind you, holding an empty food tray. “What are you doing?” he growled in your ear.

“I’m doing what needs to be done, Lucas,” you hissed back in response. You never turned to see his face, but you could imagine his infamous sulking pout. The food you had put on your tray didn’t seem all that appealing, and as you gazed over it, your stomach began to lurch, and you could feel the all too familiar palpitations in your chest. It all seemed stronger than usual, until you lost your grip on the tray and it fell to the floor. All of a sudden you found yourself on the floor next to your tray. Lucas’ voice broke through the cloud of grogginess and dizziness that was surrounding you. Every breath you took and it felt like splintered glass in your chest.

“I’ll take her to Med Bay,” Lucas told the small gathering around you. Eyes were looking down on you and voices were loud, chattering at you and through you. The faces looked as though they were dissolving; you blinked hard, causing flashes of light to break through the darkness beneath your eyelids. Lucas tried to help you up, but you toppled to the side, nearly taking him down to the floor with you.

There was a small commotion around you as officers flitted in and out, and Lonnie finally returned with a wheelchair.

Lucas wheeled you out, and still your vision remained blurred. It was like a sheet of blue and silver before your eyes with flashes of beige and other colours, moving this way and that. Breath was passing through you a little easier now and the chest pain was subsiding.

In the Med Bay and the doctor, a middle-aged Irish fellow with glasses, began to inspect you, asking about your symptoms. By now and you felt jittery, as if your muscles were contracting more than they should have been. A fluttering was still present in your gut and chest.

“It sounds like a panic attack to me,” the doctor mused. “But the fact you fainted and have blurred vision is what is concerning me. Maybe a sudden change in blood pressure? I’d like to take blood samples and keep you in overnight.”

“Do you think it’s serious?” Lucas asked in concern.

You sat on the edge of the bed, your fingers gripping the sheets. Lucas and the doctor’s voices seemed to drift away as you felt the hair on your neck stand to attention, and subconsciously your teeth ground against one another.

Captain Hudson appeared at your bedside after he’d heard of what had happened. “Lieutenant,” he began. Then his suspicious gaze shot to Lucas, who was stood the other side of your bed. “Ensign, the doctor can do his job from here.”

“Yes, Sir,” Lucas replied, venom dripping from his tone. He shot one last concerned and sad glance at you before disappearing.

“I want to keep her overnight for observation, Captain,” the doctor began. “The passing out and blurred vision is what’s concerning me.”

“Do what you need to, Doctor. I just want my Lieutenant back in one piece,” Hudson said.

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a spot of admiration for your captain. He may have been stern and abrupt, but he cared for his crew and looked after them well.

“I admired your actions today. It’s your integrity that I greatly appreciate. Get some rest,” Hudson said, shooting you a faint smile before walking out of the room.

The next half an hour was the doctor examining you. Eye test, hearing test, blood pressure, blood test and urine sample. Naturally your blood pressure was a little elevated due to the stressors on your body. The blood test would be ready the following morning; every aspect of your body’s function would be tested.

Lonnie came to visit shortly before the doctor was due to finish. “Do you want me to bring you anything?” she asked kindly. You asked for your journal and current novel you were reading.

By the time that it was half ten, you could feel fatigue setting in. Calm had come over you again, and you lay down, closing your eyes. Waves and the moon. Black sky and sparkling stars. Lucas holding you. They way it should have been. And as you drifted away into sleep, you never noticed one tear fall down your cheek.

As you ate breakfast the next morning in the Med Bay, the doctor began reading through your test results. He furrowed his eyebrows; the blood test showed normal activity for your immune system, sugar and lipids, but your hormone levels showed a significant drop in serotonin and high adrenaline levels. An unknown viral strain was present but its DNA did not match anything in the medical database.

“Good morning, Lieutenant,” he said. He pulled up a chair next to your bed.

“Morning, Doctor,” you replied, swallowing a mouthful of toast.

“I’ve looked over your blood test results this morning, and whilst most of it is normal, your blood is showing a dip in serotonin levels and an unknown viral toxin.”

“Virus?” you asked, shocked. You had been under the impression that all this was was a panic attack induced by stress.

“A panic attack makes sense with the lowered levels of serotonin and elevated adrenaline. But this virus concerns me as I’m not sure if it was responsible for the symptoms in the first place.”

“I’ve suffered with anxiety for some years, Doctor. And I stopped taking medication for it when I enlisted at twenty-two.”

“I’d like to keep you here for another few hours and take regular blood samples. I intend to send them to the main lab at the UEO headquarters and see what their thoughts are. Maybe we can look at online counselling to help with the anxiety.”

Lucas visited you that morning before his shift. He stood at your bedside and smiled sadly. “How are you feeling?”

“A lot calmer but tired. The doctor says I have a virus which isn’t identified, and isn’t sure if it’s linked to my panic attack and passing out last night.”

“If you need anything at all, I’m here. Just ask.” He reached out and touched your hand, but you flinched and pulled away.

“Don’t!” you said sternly.

“You’re letting Captain Hudson dictate our lives!” Lucas hissed.

Your heart began to pound again and the sharp pains built, radiating through your chest like forks of electricity. You gasped, trying desperately to get your breath. “Get….out….” you were able to say.

“Ensign, please leave,” the doctor ordered.

Later that morning and Lucas was pulled into Captain Hudson’s quarters. Lucas, as usual, stood with his jaw clenched and his eyes glaring in anger at the captain.

“You are not to visit her again, Ensign! Do I make myself clear?” Hudson boomed. “It’s funny how both attacks she’s suffered have been when in your company. Not only does she have more moral integrity than you and professionalism by requesting a transfer, but she’s fighting an unknown virus. I will not have you put more on her shoulders.”

“I’ve put nothing…”

“Enough!” Hudson shouted. “I’m thisclose,” he began, holding his forefinger and thumb close together for emphasis, “to shredding her transfer request and putting you aboard another vessel instead. Captain Bridger allowed you far too much freedom on this boat. You’ll learn to keep your mouth shut, follow orders and not back answer me. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir,” Lucas growled.

“Good. Get out of my sight,” Hudson shot back.

You remained in the Med Bay for the rest of the day. Lonnie came to visit and brought you fresh underwear and toiletries to wash with. She stayed for a little while, comfortable in your bedside chair, talking about what had happened on the bridge that day. “Be glad that you can have a break,” she giggled. “It’s not right without you though.”

“I’m hoping to be back in a couple of days. The doctor wants me to rest and de-stress, which is easier said than done in this place, especially with Lucas’ constant sulking.” You sighed.

“Hey, I know you think the world of him, but you can’t let him keep putting on to you. He’s stressing you to the point of making you sick. I know you requested a transfer and it’s because of him. He still has a lot of growing up to do.”

“You’re right. He does.”

[southwalessubculture]

“Sometimes you love someone and you don’t want them to leave…because if they’re beside you, you can see that they’re safe and you can keep them safe. But, if they go somewhere without you…you might lose them” with author's choice, which is gonna be Tyler Bate, because come on. Big Strong Boi being Big Comforting Boi is just such a good concept.

TW: panic attack/panic attack symptoms, mention of minor injury

I have no clue how this got so long tbh

Tyler could feel the tension in the hotel room as soon as he walked in; something was wrong. He quietly set his gear bag on the floor before walking into the full view of the room...nothing. It was three in the afternoon, you were usually hanging around and waiting for Tyler to get back so you could get lunch together. Where were you?

He sat on the bed, taking a moment to run his hands through his hair as he thought of where you could've went, when he heard it. It was quiet, almost to the point where he'd dismissed it as something outside of the room. Small, choked sobs, coming from the dark bathroom.

"Darling?" His voice was as quiet as he could be, trying not to startle you. He'd been through this so many times with you, he knew that if he came barging in all loud and yelly it would just make things worse. "Are you okay, love?"

The sounds only got louder, and he finally got off the bed, going to stand in front of the bathroom door.

"Can I come in? Is that okay?" No answer. "Darling, please tell me if it's not okay. If I don't get an answer, then I'm going to come in, alright?"

After a few more seconds of silence, he cracked the door open. You audibly groaned at the sight, and he could see the barest impression of you, tucked next to the bathtub, squinting in the sliver of light.

"Can I turn the overhead light on?"

You shook your head quickly, and he stuck his other hand through the crack to show you that he wasn't going for the switch.

"Look, see? There's my hand. The other one's opening the door. No light, okay?"

You sniffled, but he could see that you were nodding your head. He pushed the door open the rest of the way, then slowly stepped into the room. He reached his hands out to you, a silent request to join you, and you simply moved over to make space for you. He sank down next to you, not quite touching you for fear of overwhelming your senses.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

You were shaking, had been since he first saw you, but your movements slowed as you thought out his question.

"I thought you were hurt."

Fuck. There'd been an accident at the tapings for NXT UK that morning, Eddie Dennis had sprained his wrist during a match, and it had probably hit the group chat that several NXT UK stars and their families/partners, including you, shared. And of course, they couldn't initially share who was hurt or how because of confidentiality. He hadn't even thought to text you, tell you that he was okay.

"I tried to call..."

You started shaking again, dissolving into tears as you buried your face into your arms. You didn't have to finish your sentence, he already knew; he didn't answer your calls, so you assumed that he had been the one that was injured. Even if they'd sent out an update with Eddie's name attached to it, you would've been halfway into one of your panic attacks already.

"I'm okay, darling. See? I'm right here, safe and sound with you." He moved a little closer, still not quite touching you. "I'm alright, and I'm sorry that I didn't answer you."

He was cursing himself mentally for not thinking more about you; you'd been noticeably on edge since the plans for restarting the first round of tapings were first brought up, and the build to a panic attack about it was inevitable. Hell, he was sure that it had already happened before he even came back to London, based on a night when he returned to your flat to find you shaking in your sleep, tear tracks still wet against your cheeks.

He'd talked to you the next morning, and the agreement for you to join him in London was made quickly.

"I'm just scared."

Your voice, soft and cracked, stirred him from his thoughts. He looked down to you, frowning in the light. He'd heard you describe your panic attacks as coming from anxiety, tension, stress, depression...but you'd never had one from fear, as far as he knew.

"What's scaring you, love?"

You shook your head against your forearms, seemingly either unaware of or unwilling to discuss the root of the problem.

"Is it me? Am I scaring you?"

The pause of your motion worried him to no end, and he couldn't lie; it was a massive relief when you shook your head again to show that it wasn't him.

"You're not scary, but...if something happens to you...I don't want to be alone. I love you too much to be alone without you."

He took a second to think about your words, process what he thought that you meant.

“Sometimes you love someone and you don’t want them to leave…because if they’re beside you, you can see that they’re safe and you can keep them safe. But, if they go somewhere without you…you might lose them."

You looked up at Tyler, finally meeting his gaze for the first time since he found you.

"Is that what's frightening you? Are you scared of losing me?"

Your movement completely stopped, becoming so still that he worried that you were unconscious. That is, until you slowly nodded at him.

"And today, you thought I was hurt, so you were scared of losing me?"

"Yeah." You moved closer to him, resting your head against his shoulder. "I couldn't find out what happened. You weren't answering your phone, neither was Trent or Pete. I was alone and scared."

He slowly moved his arm to rest it over your shoulders, trying to give you time to pull away if you so desired to. Instead, you just pushed yourself against him, leaning all of your weight on him.

"I'm sorry, love, I'll make sure that I don't do that again. But I'm here, okay? I'm here now, and you're not alone." He pressed his lips against your forehead, brushing his fingers against the skin of your neck to help soothe you. "I'm here, and you'll never be truly alone if you're mine."

[sirpeachess-casual]

(TW: eating issues/depression/weight loss) Hope you’re hanging in there! Prompt: people taking care of Dick through depression-induced eating issues (lack of motivation, lack of taste, etc). Maybe OG Titans - Donna openly showing concern and trying to take care of him vs Hank being all grumbly/gruff but quietly making/bringing things he knows Dick likes because he’s noticed him losing weight and is worried.

Olive Oyl

Part 4 of the Catching Dick Grayson series

Summary: In which Dick can't eat anymore because it makes him sick and manages to keep it a secret from the OG Titans. Until he doesn't.

~<><><><><><><>~

They were cleaning up dinner when Dick excused himself politely, motioning to his phone and explaining he had to take it. At their teasing rolled eyes, he promised to pay for dessert next time and rushed out of the room. Donna grabbed the Tupperware as Hank started the dishwater. Dawn collected their plates and frowned at one.

"Hey," she asked. "Has anyone noticed Dick not eating a lot?"

The other two looked at her. "Not really," Donna admitted carefully.

"What? He not actually eating like a bird?" Hank quipped.

Dawn showed them the barely touched pile of food, flattened artfully to look smaller than it was. "From the looks of it, he hardly eats at all."

The Amazonian took the plate, inspecting it. "He hardly touched this."

Hank took the plate from her, giving it a quick glance, before dunking it into the soapy water. "Maybe he just wasn't hungry. Or he's a picky eater and too polite to say anything."

Donna shook her head. "No, not that I know of. Alfred did most of the cooking but I've never seen Dick turn down a meal."

"He hasn't been eating breakfast with me, either," Dawn realized, crossing her arms. "We used to, but he's been getting up early to start training. I just assumed he had already eaten by the time I got up."

"No." Donna frowned. "I'm usually out on the porch reading in the mornings. I would have heard him if he came in or he would have said hi at least."

They looked at Hank, who shrugged. "What?"

"Well, you train in the mornings. Do you two usually eat together?"

"We don't even train together. And if we did I woulda said something."

Sighing, Dawn chewed her lip worriedly. She looked at Donna, finding the Amazonian wearing a similarly thoughtful expression. "Could he be... starving himself?" Dove asked quietly.

Hank waved his hand, splashing bubbles all over the kitchen. "Whoa whoa whoa. So the guy has a small dinner and skips out on breakfast once in a while and you think he's, what, anorexic or something? Maybe he's just not hungry. Or he eats in his room. Probably had one too many candy bars for lunch, you know how he is."

The ladies weren't convinced, sharing a concerned look.

Hank groaned loudly. "Oh, I know where this is going. You two think there's some sort of conspiracy going on, so you're going to start sneaking around and comparing notes and all of this spy shit to get to the bottom of it."

"Well, what would you do?" Dawn asked, turning to him defensively.

He shrugged obviously. "Ask him?"

They laughed.

"Yeah, that would work," Donna chuckled sardonically.

"What? Why not?"

"We're talking about the same Dick, right?" She dismissed the idea with a wave. "We can't ask him. That would only push him back even further."

"Or, and consider this, he might surprise you and say that he had a big lunch."

Dawn looked at him sweetly. "Hank, we appreciate your help and I'm sure Dick would appreciate your faith in his... forthcomingness, but please. There really might be something seriously wrong with him."

He scoffed. "You mean worse than all the other fucking issues he has?"

"Yes. Or maybe another one on top of all of those." She looked at Donna. "We already know about his depression."

The Amazonian shrugged noncommittally because they knew enough about his depression. No one knew as much about it as her and she doubted anyone ever would. She didn't like his not opening up to Dawn and Hank, but she understood it. And it certainly wasn't her position to tell him who to trust with his secrets.

Dawn continued. "Not eating might be a symptom of that."

"So ask him!"

"We can't."

Hank rolled his eyes. "Jesus, I don't understand you people."

Donna, always the diplomat, tried to offer a compromise. "I can try to talk to him. But only after we make sure something is wrong. If we notice him not eating, purging, or losing weight. Anything like that, you tell me. If it keeps going, I'll talk to him. But Hank might be right. It might be a one-time thing. And we don't want to scare him off."

The large man shook his head sadly. "Can't believe you're talking about him like he's some scared animal or something. You do realize he's still Dick, right?"

Donna stood her ground, arguing softly. "We know that, Hank. Which is exactly why we are so worried and being this cautious. Trust me, when it comes to stuff like this, a scared animal is exactly what he is."

"Hey, guys!" Dick called, leaning in from the hallway, the phone still pressed to his ear. "We got trouble."

They sighed, tossing aside the cleaning. Donna threw the rest of the food in the fridge, Hank waving his hands dry as Dawn tossed her wet rag into the sink.

"Just one night!" Hawk grumbled, the trio rushing to the door. "Just one night!"

Dick slapped him on the shoulder. "Maybe tomorrow," he shrugged, following them to the tech room.

Read the rest at Archive of Our Own

[tea-and-cardigans]

Please, Let Me In

Macy x Harry (Charmed 2018)

Based on the following prompt:

Do take fic requests? If so can you write a little something shippy about last ep Charmed with Macy & Harry where Harry healed Macy's puncture wound from that insect demon but Macy still having nightmares about what was pumped into her through it & Harry comforts her & does full healing scan & they having comforting talk about both of their fears. She adorable bonding & being physically close for "whitelighter/white healing reasons" but actully it's more then that of course       by @angelfireeast

  Macy woke with a startle. Her sheets twisted around her body and her hand instinctively clutched at her side. She tried to catch her breath as her mind was still filled with images of the others trapped in the nest around her and the way that, thing, had crawled inside her, made her feel so empty.

It had been weeks now, since she had been trapped down there, her sisters, and Harry, coming to find her. She had been berating herself ever since for allowing herself to be taken. Even after the warnings that demons would be coming from all angles to get to her and her sisters. She had gone out on a date with someone she found on a dating app. It had been risky and not like her at all.

She leaned forward bracing her head against her knees, as her side continued to ache, where it had been injecting her with who knows what had been. The wound had healed easily enough. A fading scar the only physical sign that remained of her ordeal.

But, the memories seemed to continue to plague her. She hadn’t wanted to worry the others. Not when she was already trying to deal with the news of the darkness inside her and the strange mark on Galvin. Add to that the demon killing elders. Mel losing Nico, and Maggie. Maggie already thought that her life was doomed to be nothing but magic and demons, this would only feed that belief.  So she had kept it to herself, hoping with time it woud go away.

Besides, she convinced herself that it was PTSD or something, she had been captured and almost killed. It made sense that she was still having thoughts about it, trouble sleeping and flashbacks.

She winced as she got out of her bed, almost as if her scar was burning. She lifted the material of her pajamas gingerly as she examined the area carefully in the mirror, still nothing there.

It must be a symptom as well the phantom pain. At least that is what she tried to convince herself as she laid back down on her bed. She pulled the blanket tighter around her body, allowing the weight of it to soothe her. To form a protective barrier against the rest of the world, as she begged sleep to take her and at least let her sleep until the morning.

Macy had woken to the sunlight pouring in through her bedroom window and breathed a sigh of relief. Her hand traced her side, not sure what she was expecting to find. She shook her head dismissing her concerns and making her way to the bathroom.

After her shower she made her way downstairs to the kitchen the smell of food hitting her as she entered. It seemed that Harry had made breakfast, again.

“Ah, Macy,” He greeted her with a broad smile as he hung what Macy assumed was his apron now on the hook near the fridge. “Pancakes?”

Macy’s stomach turned at even the mention of food, “Not for me Harry. Maggie and Mel?”

“Have gone out.”

Macy poured herself a glass of orange juice, her hand shook a little under the weight of the jug. Her grip slipped as she put it back down on the counter.

“Are you okay Macy?”

“I’m fine,” she lied, “just a little tired.”  Macy took a sip of the juice, and it felt like it was burning as it slid down her throat. She quickly put the glass back down, as she avoided Harry’s gaze.

Harry watched her carefully, and Macy smiled back at him, an awkwardness growing around them until Macy couldn’t stand it any longer. “I’m not fine,” she admitted. Bracing herself against the kitchen counter.

Harry moved around to the other side of the counter, concern etched on his face. “Is it what that psychic told you, because-”

“That’s part of it, but I feel like...that thing,” she could feel her voice breaking as the memories broke through the fog of her mind again and it felt as though she was right back there. The webs across her body, her face, feeling like she was suffocating. Like she was going to die.

The next thing she felt was Harry’s arms around her, holding her steady as the ground lurched from underneath her. She tried to shake herself free from the memories, and heard Harry’s voice through the fog.

“Macy,” he repeated and Macy opened her eyes, meeting his. She righted herself again her hands braced against the counter again as her breathing was laboured.

“Sorry, I just, it felt like I was back there.” She went to move away and the pain shot down her side and she couldn’t stop the scream that escaped from her lungs. Her hand held tight to her side as she fell. “It’s burning,” she choked out as Harry knelt down beside her.

“Let me,” he asked and she pulled up her blouse to expose the site of the wound, again seeing nothing that could explain the pain that was currently pulsating underneath her skin.

“An infection,” Harry grimaced turning his head to the side as he examined her closer. “Invisible to most, but-” He passed his hand over the area, a white light emanating from his hand. “I need to heal you, Macy. Before it gets worse.”

Macy nodded in response as she felt the fog beginning to cloud the corners of her mind again, the room around her slipping away.

Harry helped her to rise from her position on the floor, draping her arm over his shoulder as he supported the weight of her body and they moved slowly to the lounge.

He lay her gently on the chaise, propping her head up with a pillow. Macy continued to take deep steadying breaths, the pain coursing in waves through her body.

“Macy,” Harry’s voice broke through and Macy latched onto the sound of his voice, finding some peace there, some comfort. He rolled his sleeves up as he knelt down beside her.

“This may hurt, but I’ll try to be quick, okay?” His hand held onto hers, it kept her anchored. Kept her from slipping back down into that pit of memories, pain and fear.

Macy nodded, her hand instinctively tightening as she braced herself for what was to come.

He gave her hand a final squeeze before placing his against her exposed skin, over her scar, and she flinched a little at the coolness of his skin.

“Sorry,” he apologised, as his hand began to glow again. Brighter this time and Macy found herself closing her eyes as the light hit her.

The pain grew, enveloping her body. She gritted her teeth, until a warmth began to wash over her. It continued to spread, washing away the pain that had consumed her, bringing her freedom.

The fog began to retreat again and her mind became clearer as the light purged the infection.

She opened her eyes to see Harry looking down at her. The smile on his face that told her that everything was going to be fine now and how much she wanted to believe him. There was faint sheen on his brow and his breathing had become shallow. She looked down to where his hand was still placed against her side, a faint glow remaining underneath her skin.

His hand felt warm now against her, as the light began to fade, mesmerized by the way the light seemed to dissipate and the relief it gave as it left her body.

“A healing spell.” Harry said as he removed his hand. “A powerful one. You may feel a little- out of sorts- for the next couple of days.”

“Thank you Harry,” Macy said as she pulled back down her blouse, suddenly aware of her exposed skin and the flush that crept up the back of her neck as she recalled the sensation of Harry’s hand against her bare skin.

“You know you should have told us sooner.”

“I didn’t want to worry everyone, not with what has been going on.” Macy sat up slowly, as Harry poised himself to be ready to steady her again if needed.

“I thought I could manage it on my own.”

“It’s hard isn’t it.” Harry mused, looking off into the distance as he pulled his sleeves back down, doing up the button of each one. “Letting others in, especially when you have been alone for so long.”

Macy placed her hand on his arm, as he turned to look at her she could see the regret in his eyes, the longing to belong. She could understand it. That overwhelming feeling that something is missing, that a part of you is lost. She felt that she had found her missing part, and she hoped too that Harry may find his.

“I’m sorry, that you can’t remember who you were, your family,” her gaze caught his, “You know you have a place here, Harry.”

“As do you, Macy.” Macy returned his smile, a flutter in her stomach that wasn’t related to the infection that had been coursing through her veins.

There was a softness in his eyes that she had seen glimpses of before, but now it felt as though she was lost in it.

She found herself leaning in closer and could swear that he was too. Her eyes flitted to his lips as she imagined what it would be like, to press her own against his.

“Macy, I’m home.” Maggie announced as she swung open the front door to the house. Macy and Harry jumped away from each other as if they had been electrocuted. Harry running a hand through his hair, standing immediately, a sudden interest in the statue that Mel had brought home from her travels in Cuba.

Maggie entered the room her eyes flicking from Harry to her sister and back again. “Have I missed something?”

“No,” Harry said quickly, his eyes meeting Macy’s, “We were just discussing that, uh.” his hand was outstretched as he clearly tried to come up with something.

“I was feeling a little unwell, from the giant bug thing, and Harry was helping.” Macy admitted, earning a smile and nod from Harry at telling her sister the truth. Well not the full truth.

Maggie responded as Macy knew she would, concern washing over her face as she was by her side in an instant.

“I should go, let you two catch up.” Harry said before he disappeared, orbing out of the house.

“You should have told us, Mace.” Maggie’s hand reached out for her own, clasping it tightly, her eyes widening, as Macy quickly grasped her hand back as she realised her thoughts had drifted back to Harry, and what had almost -

“Don’t say anything.” She quickly blurted to Maggie, before standing and making her way to her room to save herself from incriminating herself any further, while Maggie followed her up the stairs.

“Come on, I think it’s cute.”

Damn Maggie and her telepathy.

[got7ficsandaus]

GOT7 REACTION: You’re insecure about your weight.

Jaebum:

It was a Sunday morning, and just like every other Sunday morning you had gotten up early to prepare breakfast for your boyfriend. The only difference today was that you decided to check your phone and go on twitter. You hadn’t been on twitter for a really long time, ever since you started dating Jaebum actually. You thought the environment was toxic and that you did not need that negativity in your life. You had been really good at avoiding twitter but recently you started missing it. You missed the funny memes being shared and you missed seeing that idol-fan interaction that only really happens on twitter so you decided to go on for a short while. You tweeted something about how long it has been and boi did your notifications blow up. You saw hundreds of messages of IGOT7 saying how you and Jaebum were actual couple goals and how they were so happy for you two. Hmm… maybe twitter isn’t so bad after all you thought. You continued scrolling through the tweets and there it was. The first hate tweet. For some reason after seeing the first mean comment about you those were the only ones you could see. There might have been 200 nice messages for every 1 mean message but they went unnoticed. You only started reading the mean messages and for some reason they were all about your weight. ‘’Am I really that overweight?’ you thought to yourself. You walked to the mirror and suddenly saw all the things the haters were mentioning. You had saggy thighs, your arms jiggled when they moved, when you smiled your double chin was showing. All these things you have never noticed before suddenly were the only things you could see. It didn’t matter anymore that you were satisfied with the way you looked suddenly it was about all those anonymous people on the internet. They decided when you could be satisfied.

You were so caught up in your own thought you didn’t hear Jaebum coming downstairs. ‘’What no breakfast today?’’ He said as he placed his arms around you back hugging you and giving you a small kiss in your neck. ‘’Oh sorry I totally forgot! Let me go make it quickly!’’ you said in return trying to act as if nothing was wrong. You decided to forget about what those people on the internet said. They were only jealous about your relationship anyway.

 It was three weeks later and for some reason the thoughts about your weight hadn’t left your mind ever since. Jaebum started to notice something was going on but every time he asked you about it you dismissed it and said nothing was going on. He accepted this until he came home one day seeing you on the floor sitting in a corner, crying with your head in your hands, your clothes scattered everywhere. He ran up to you and held you close. ‘’You have to tell me what is wrong! I am not taking nothing for an answer! I love you I want to help you but you have to let me!’’ ‘’T-t-they say I am too f-f-fat to be with you. T-t-t-that I am t-too ugly. T-t-t-that I d-d-don’t d-d-deserve you.’’ You stuttered ‘’Who? Who said that? People on the internet? Baby I told you it’s not true what they are saying! Do they know me? No, they don’t! They think they do but they don’t. They don’t know me, they don’t know you, they don’t know our relationship. They are outsiders looking in and just because you and I are making choices they don’t agree with does not mean what they think is right! It does not mean that I don’t love you just the way you are! Just because they’re saying you are fat and that you should be unhappy with yourself it is true? First of all, it shouldn’t matter what other people think about you as long as you are happy and healthy that’s all that matters. Second of all, you are not fat! You are curvy and to me that is sexy as hell and you used to think the same so what happened? Why do you value the opinions of the people you don’t know over the opinions of yourself and the people you love and love you?’’ Jaebum lectured you. ‘’You’re right’’ you mumbled wiping away the tears. ‘’What was that? I couldn’t quite here that right.’’ Jaebum teased. ‘’ I said you’re right. ‘’Good girl, now let’s go eat some pizza.’’

Mark:

You had always felt insecure about your weight but never did anything about it. When you started feeling more down and less energetic you decided to go to the doctor. When the doctor told you it might be related to your weight you decided enough was enough and that you needed to lose weight. You made an appointment with a dietician and were on a roll with your weight loss journey to a healthier version of yourself.

It took a while but you had finally reached your weight goal but for some reason you felt like you didn’t slim down enough. You still saw unwanted fat on places despite the positive comments everyone gave you. Maybe it was because of those positive comments. Maybe you loved the compliments so much you wanted to lose more and more weight to keep receiving those compliments so you did. You lost so much more weight it started to scare Mark. He tried to recall the last time he saw you eating anything containing any form of sugar but he couldn’t. There is nothing wrong with a sugar free diet but when you started cutting fruit from your diet due to the fruit sugars it contained Mark realized something was wrong.

‘’Babe, me and the boys are going out to eat are you coming?’’ Mark asked you. You hated going out to eat, you hated it when anyone saw you eat but it was the third time Mark asked you to go out this week and you couldn’t come up with any excuse so you decided to go. When you arrived at the restaurant and saw it was a pizzeria your heart dropped. How were you going to eat anything here? You planned to just order a salad without any dressing and say that you weren’t really hungry because you had a large snack before but you couldn’t order a salad at this place. They served a salad as a side dish next to the pizza. Mark noticed your mood change and asked what was wrong. ‘’Nothing I’m just not that hungry. Is it okay if I eat your salad I don’t think I can eat a pizza right now?’’ You said hoping Mark would think nothing off it. ‘’I can literally hear your stomach grumbling. I know you are hungry and pizza used to be your favourite thing to eat what happened? Lately you’ve only been eating raw vegetables and drinking water. You’ve gotten so skinny I am worried about you please just tell me what is wrong.’’ Mark pleaded. ‘’Can we discuss this later please? I don’t want to talk about it in front of the boys. Can we please do this at home?’’ you responded. ‘’Fine.’’

Mark was on edge the entire dinner, when you guys were ordering and you announced you were only going to eat the salad you could feel Mark’s anger bar rising, when everyone decided to go out for ice cream after but you said you were lactose intolerant, which was a lie, so you couldn’t eat with them, you could feel Mark’s anger bar rising and when you were finally at home just the two of you and you had pretended to fall asleep in the car so you wouldn’t have to have the conversation Mark’s anger bar exploded. He lifted you out of the car, into the bedroom fully aware that you were awake but he realized his tactics weren’t going to work. He realized he couldn’t help you by himself so he decided to get the help of a professional. Mark learned that from the symptoms he described you most likely had an eating disorder and/or body dysmorphia and that you needed professional help. But when Mark told you what he did and that he wanted you to go to therapy it did not go the way he wanted. You downright refused to listen to what he had to say and did not agree with his so called findings.

‘’Baby, please let me help you. Please let’s go to therapy you can go alone we can go together I just want you to get help. You’re scarring me and your body does not look healthy so please let me help you and let’s get you healthy again’’. Mark said. ‘’I don’t think that’s necessary.’’ You replied. ‘’Please Y/N! if not for you then do it for me please!’’ Mark was now begging you. It hurt you to see Mark like this so you decided to accept his help. You still did not think that you needed it but you’d do anything to rid the painful expression Mark had written on his face.

It’s was a year later and therapy had been going great. You realized Mark was right and that you had a distorted view of yourself. You had started your road to a healthy weight again only this time from the other side of the spectrum.

Jackson:

You had always been a big girl growing up and it had never bothered you. Sure sometimes kids would say something about your weight but it never really got to you. This was until you started dating Jackson. Dating him meant you were now in the public eye. Not only were you in the public eye you were also in a new environment, an environment that had beauty standards the complete opposite of what you looked like; porcelain skin? Not really something you had. Long straight hair? It took hours to straighten yours and with only a little bit of humidity it would be frizzy and unmanageable. And then there was the body type matter. In Korea skinny bodies are praised and you just did not have a skinny body and for a very long time that was fine. The way your parents had raised you had taught you that beauty was in the eye of the beholder and as long as you liked the way you looked and as long as you were a healthy and kind person there was no one more beautiful than you on the earth. Have courage and be kind was your motto and up until now you were proud to say you have lived true to your motto. But recently your courage had been flooding down the drain. For some reason you didn’t dare to wear the skintight dresses you used to wear anymore. Wearing a tight shirt without having a coat to cover you was a no go and working out with just a pair of leggings and a sports bra on? Only if it were a privet gym. Jackson of course started to notice your change in clothing and wanted to know what was going on with you. Was this just a normal change because hey, style changes over time or was something deeper going on.

‘’Why don’t you wear this dress anymore? It used to be your favourite and actually the way it hugs your body so tightly it became my favourite too’’ Jackson said holding up one of your bodycon dresses and giving you a wink. ‘’ I don’t know I just don’t really like the way my body looks in that dress anymore. It reveals everything and it looks good when I have shapewear on but I don’t really feel like wearing shapewear since it obstructs by breathing and it kind of feels like it’s cutting of my blood circulation.’’ You shrugged. Jackson thought this was weird you had always liked the way you looked and always told him you liked the way you looked with the few extra pounds on your body. You had always said skinny wasn’t for you, you wanted to be a chubby person like those cherubs. ‘’Since when don’t you like your body anymore?’’ ‘’I don’t know it’s just that where I come from, I don’t stand out that much but here I am really deviating from the norm. I am not what’s beautiful here and that makes me not like the way I look right now. I just think I should lose a bit of weight.’’ You replied as if it was no big deal. ‘’Baby listen to me. If you want to lose a bit of weight because you would feel more confident, be my guest don’t let anyone stop you, but don’t do it because you think that other people will like you more or because other people will think you look more beautiful.’’ ‘’I just want to lose a bit of weight so I look more appropriate to be dating you.’’ You said, explaining the real reason you were now sworn off of skintight clothing. ‘’For me?! No, don’t change yourself for me! I love the way you look! I love the curves you have they drive me crazy woman! Honestly I deserve an award for not jumping you every time I see you.’’ Jackson joked trying to light up the mood. ‘’That’s called manners Jackson, no one deserves an award for manners it should be a common thing.’’ You said rolling your eyes. ‘’Well can I be a savage then for tonight?’’ he said wrapping his arms around you moving his hands towards your ass. ‘’Only because you asked nicely.

Jinyoung:

Growing up you had always struggled with your weight you got bullied at school and even worse you also got bullied at home. Your mom always called you a lazy pig and other hurtful names and your siblings weren’t nicer to you either. Your confidence level was near zero and so you were amazed, surprised and very uncertain when this handsome young man walked up to you all those years ago to ask you for your number. You were a hundred per cent sure he did it for a bet and despite your certainty of getting hurt if you would engage with this man there was something about the look in his eyes and the sweet smile on his face that made you give him your number.

It was now 5 years after the young man had asked for your number. You started going on dates and one thing led to another you were now engaged with the most wonderful person on the world. When you were around Jinyoung you were never reminded of you weight. He made you feel so comfortable your insecurities were the last thing you thought about.

You and Jinyoung had decided to keep your relationship private, only a few close friends knew. Jinyoung knew about your confidence issues and thought it wouldn’t be wise to have your relationship out in the public. He had seen how the partners of idols were treated by some so called fans and did not want you to go through this hardship. Usually however, when marriage is involved everyone is happy and no hate is being thrown. Which is why Jinyoung decided to announce your engagement to the public he posted a picture of the moment he asked you on his social media tagging you in the picture with the caption: ‘The love of my live I cannot believe we will finally be together forever as husband and wife’. The comments on his picture were full of congratulatory messages. Some were confused because they thought he was single. Some were negative because now he wasn’t on the market anymore but most were happy and positive comments. You on the other hand did not receive the nice congratulatory messages. You received negative messages about how you were stealing Jinyoung away from his fans, and how you weren’t good enough for him. It seemed like everyone agreed a woman with a body like yours was not deserving of dating an idol. Deep down you knew Jinyoung loved you no matter what you looked like but for some reason all the insecurities that Jinyoung helped you so well to put away reached the surface. You were so caught up in your own denigrating thoughts you didn’t hear Jinyoung coming into the room. ‘’Hey baby! The reactions are so great I can’t believe I was actually worried! Everyone is being so kind and congratulatory it’s great!’’ Jinyoung exclaimed. ‘’Ah yes wauw so great.’’ You responded trying to sound as enthusiastic as Jinyoung was. Your fake enthusiasm obviously did not make the cut and he noticed something was off. ‘’What’s wrong? Are you having second thoughts about marrying me?’’ Jinyoung asked thinking it was the thought of the future marriage that brought down your mood. ‘’’NO! Of course not! I love you and I can’t wait to be married to you. It’s nothing okay. I just received a few negative messages but they’re nothing really.’’ you said. ‘’How many is a few? How bad are they? What were they about? Honestly I wish you could just dismiss those comments. Who cares what strangers think about us? It shouldn’t matter. The only thing that matters is how I feel about you and how you feel about me. And I can assure if you love me only a tenth as much as I love you we will be married forever.

Youngjae:

All your life you had been very skinny and it had made you feel very insecure. Whilst all of your girlfriends grew curves during their puberty you just grew taller. The worst thing about it was that no one allowed you to complain about the way you felt about your body. When your friends were complaining about the thickness of their thighs and how difficult it was to find pants that would fit their thighs and not be extremely large on the waste they always looked at you and said: ‘’Oh but you obviously don’t have that problem you are so lucky you are so skinny and no matter what you eat you don’t gain any weight.’’ Little did they know that actually not gaining any weight was just as much torture to you as gaining weight was to them. You wanted to be curvy too. You wanted to go wear a low cut shirt and actually have a cleavage, you wanted to wear pants that were not oversized at the hip area. You wanted to wear strapless pumps without your feet coming out every time you took a step but because you were skinny you weren’t allowed to complain. It didn’t matter that in most stores a XS was too small and that you had to shop in the kids department even though you were a grown woman. No society says they like your body therefore you have to like your body.

Moving to Korea had made a lot of your problems go away. The people were generally smaller then were you came from so the clothes also came in smaller sizes. Due to the beauty standards in Korea you didn’t stand out as much as you used to simply because there were more people that looked like you. This all made you feel better about the way you looked but you still did not feel satisfied. Every time you wore a bodycon dress or a tight fitting shirt you always felt like you missed something when looking in the mirror. The something that you missed were curves. In your opinion you looked like a child trying on their mother’s clothes and it was not a good look. Youngjae knows what it’s like to feel insecure about the way your body looks so he always tried to compliment you. His compliments made you feel better but they never got rid of your insecurity.

You had thought about getting plastic surgery, but you were quite scared about what people were going to say and more importantly you had watched one too many episodes of botched. So when one day you were browsing online and you came across a website called butt secret you had possible found the answer your problems. The website sold things such as waist trainers and shapewear, but they also sold butt lifters that help increase the size of your hips and butt and silicon breast cups to increase the size of your breasts. As you were ordering your things Youngjae came home came to you to say hello. ‘’Hey baby I’m ho… what’s that? What are you ordering?’’ he said as he saw your laptop screen. ‘’Oh it’s like shapewear that gives you curves. I just don’t like the way my body looks it’s too childish and boyish and I just want curves.’’ You explained. ‘’Oh, okay. Just know that I don’t think your body looks childish and boyish! If you want to wear these things to make yourself feel more comfortable and confident then be my guest but know that you don’t have to do it for me or anyone else. I love you just the way you are okay? You know I even have a song about it. It’s called Just Right I don’t know it you know it but what is said it that song also goes out to you okay? Youngjae joked. ‘’I know, thank you. I love you.’’ ‘’I love you more!’’  Youngjae exclaimed. ‘’And I love you the most.’’ You replied.

Bambam:

It had all begun when you and Bambam announced your relationship to the public. There were a lot of nice and congratulatory messages but there were also a lot of hate messages. Bambam told you to ignore them and block and report everyone who send them to you. So you did, but before you can report something you still need to know what the message says, so you still read all the messages and they got to you. There were a lot about how you didn’t deserve Bambam and how you were an attention whore who only was with him for his fame. You knew Bambam didn’t feel the same way so really it should not have mattered but you did not have the luxury to disregard what strangers said about you even though it was untrue. Later on in your relationship those messages started going away, not because people were finally accepting you as a couple but because they had something new to bully you with.

Ever since you and Bambam had announced your relationship you had gained weight. Not an incredible large amount but still enough to have it be noticed. Your increased body size was now the hot topic to send you hate messages about. And it wasn’t only so called fans on the internet it was also the media. Tabloids printed covers with you on it bashing your weight gain, internet blogs spurted their nasty unfiltered insults everywhere and even Bambam was asked questions about your weight during interviews. He always responded with the same answer. That he loved you no matter what you looked like and that they were ridiculous for asking that question. When he would come home he would always compliment you on your looks trying to get the negative thoughts out of your head, but everyone knows one negative is stronger than God knows how many positive thoughts. So even though you did feel better after hearing Bam’s compliments it did not outweigh your negative thoughts.

The longer the messages lasted the more you started to believe they were actually true. Despite the fact that you still had a healthy weight, despite the fact that actually you didn’t think that our body looked bad and that you actually thought you looked better and healthier than before you still started to hate your body. At one point it got so bad Bam decided that enough was enough. He turned to his social media and called everyone out he had enough of people treating his girlfriend as if she was a product on the market and gave everyone his piece of mind. Some people got the memo and apologized to you but unfortunately a lot did not. That’s when Bambam decided to ask ahgase for help he wanted to do something special for you so he decided to get as many videos of ahgase saying what they liked about you as he could. He then asked the boys and your family and friends to make videos as well and made it into a video. When it was finished he had the whole night planned. He rented a projector and set up a cozy outdoor theater on the roof with lots of blankets, pillows and of course snacks. He hung fairy lights everywhere to give it a romantic vibe and to his luck it was a little cold meaning you would snuggle into him all night. When he took you to the roof you could not believe your eyes it was absolutely beautiful and you blessed to have a boyfriend that would do this for you. You thought things couldn’t get more perfect. Until he screened the video that was. You were absolutely amazed that there were so many strangers who thought all these positive things of you that you got teary eyed. When the video came to its ends you had tears running all over your face and Bambam got worried. ‘’What you don’t like it?’’ he asked you. ‘’No no that’s not it I love it so much thank you.’’ You replied. ‘’Then why are you crying baby?’’ Bambam laughed. ‘’I’m just so touched I can’t believe you did this for me this is amazing I love you sooooo much.’’ You said as you kissed him.

Yugyeom:

Your appearance was something you never gave much attention to. That did not mean you looked like a slob it just meant you didn’t really care what you looked like to other people as long as you were confident and happy it was fine. This attitude came from your parents they always pointed out how the inside was of a much bigger importance than the outside. They never complimented you on the way you looked instead they complemented you on the things you did. Some people said that this was wrong and that you should be complemented on your looks to grow your confidence but you liked it. You liked getting complimented on something you had a 100% control over instead of something you were born with. This was also something Yugyeom was absolutely crazy about. He saw how the girlfriends of his hyung’s would sometimes get negative comments about their appearance and how it would affect them. He was glad that even if people would say bad things about you it wouldn’t hurt you as much or so he thought. Yes, to you your inside was more important than your appearance but that did not mean that you were immune to negative comments about your appearance especially if they came from people that actually knew you.

The first time you got hate you shrugged it off quickly. No, it wasn’t nice to read that someone felt that way about you but they didn’t know you so they judged you solely based on your appearance and if you weren’t their style there is nothing wrong with that. You went on treating your new hate comments the same way you treated the first one. But when someone who you thought was your friend said something along the same lines you started getting insecure. As you were waiting backstage for Yugyeom you overheard some of the staff talking about you. They obviously didn’t know you were there since you came as a surprise and did not tell anybody. ‘’ What do you think about Yugyeom girlfriend?’’ one said. ‘’Well I don’t know, I mean she is nice and all but it also comes across as fake and can she please go exercise or something like you are dating an idol keep up the look it’s not that hard.’’ The other one replied. ‘’RIGHT?! Like come on you weigh more than your boyfriend hahahahhaha.’’ They continued making fun of you. Upon hearing this you looked down at your body hmm, yes I mean you were a bit on the larger size and when you wore Yugyeom’s shirts they fit you quite well instead of that oversized ‘boyfriend’ effect it was supposed to have but…. was that really so wrong? You didn’t have more time to think about it because Yugyeom just came walking through the door absolutely excited to see you. You tried to put away the thought for later and enjoy the moment with Yugyeom but that was easier said than done. Yugyeom of course noticed your mental absence and asked you what was wrong when the two of you were finally alone in your hotel room. ‘’ Baby, you’ve been acting a little strange all night it something wrong?’’ ‘’Do you think I should lose weight? Like I mean I am a bit on the big size so if you want me to lose some weight please tell me! Cause I know how much guys like it when girls wear their clothes and they’re so big they basically drown in them and when I wear your shirts it’s like I just took it out of my closet so…’’ you spurted out. ‘’ Wow stop no. I do not want you to lose weight unless you want to. I like the way you fit in my clothes just fine alright. What’s gotten into you? You never used to give much attention to things like this.’’ He asked you. ‘’I know. It’s just that I overheard some of the staff saying I should lose some weight in order to look more appropriate to date you that’s just it.’’ You responded. ‘’WHICH STAFF SAID THAT? WHO WAS IT I WILL GO AND GIVE THEM A PIECE OF MIND! YOU ARE PERFECT FOR ME I LOVE YOU, YOU LOVE ME NOTHING ELSE IS NECESSARY!’’ Yugyeom exclaimed. ‘’It’s okay Yugyeom you don’t have to scold them okay. I’m fine it was just a thought that I had okay it’s fine.’’ ‘’Alright then. Just know that I love you okay I would never ask you to alter your appearance, or anything really, for me.’’ Yugyeom said after he calmed down. ‘’I love you too.’’

[A/N] Hi guys, hope you liked it please leave me feedback and feel free to request anything! Also sorry it's so long haha

It's not really a reaction anymore

[simplelittlebrowngirljae]

Thank You Endo, You Made Me Who I Am!

My journey to diagnosis of endometriosis is probably like any other woman but I love to tell my story, well because it is mine. But what exactly is endometriosis? Endometriosis is a disease that affects millions of women. It is when the lining of the uterus grows on the structures and organs outside of the uterus--- to include intestines, bladder, lungs and kidneys. It can cause infertility, pain with sex, heavy bleeding, severe pain during periods and in between, fatigue. Women with this disease also can develop endometriomas or chocolate cysts which are hard to detect. Endometriosis often takes years to diagnosis because it cannot be seen on a test—it most often is diagnosed by surgery. The best way to describe how this disease affects women is like having thick black tar causing your organs to stick together. Endometriosis can also affect your heart with arrhythmia, cause dizziness, malnutrition, among other whole body symptoms, which makes it hard to diagnose.

Growing up, I never really noticed my period was an issue until I got to high school. My flow go to be soo heavy I became severely iron deficient and my cramps were killer. I complained to my mom, and she dismissed me but I persisted. Finally she made an appointment with Primary care doctor at the age of 15. My doc asked questions and said “ oh some women are just heavy, if you lost weight it will get better” I took that and walked away and binge dieted and my weight didn’t moved and my symptoms did not improve over a year. I would bleed so terribly during my cycle I would soak through EVERYTHING! Finally I went back to my mom and begged her to take me back to the doctor. She was then convinced I should have an ultrasound. That turned up nothing but at 16 my doc put me on birth control. I immediately felt better and my cramps lessened and flow lightened. I felt I had my life back.

Well let’s fast forward 10 years. I got married and went off my BC and horror came back. I wanted a baby so bad, so in my head I was going to push through so that I can have what I always wanted! But, I had days I would have to leave work because I had just bled all over. On top of that, if I was home, I would vomit all the time, wouldn’t be able to move or do anything. I ignored it because I wanted this kid, I didn’t want anything to get in my way. But then things really changed. I was sick ALL THE TIME. And felt miserable. I went to my dr because I didn’t think I was pregnant because I was literally in between cycles. As soon as I went to her, my cycle began and it was the worst I ever had in my life. She explained to me that I had gotten pregnant by my embryo wasn’t viable because of my eggs and that my uterus could not house a baby and I would have severe complications—I had been told at 25 I would have no babies. At that time I couldn’t quite process that, and she didn’t care to go into great detail. I refused to believe the tom foolery. I never told a soul, not even my husband. At the time, she couldn’t fully explain the whole situation but she knew things weren’t right.

Shortly after that, we split. And I decided to go back on BC to end my horror each month. I tried to do an IUD and my body rejected it—twice. I went back on pills, and had to try multiple methods because I was diagnosed with High Blood Pressure too. In all of this, I was also trying to lose weight and wanted to be wise in my choices. Found a great method and felt okay for a while…. Until March 28, 2014.

I had deep pain in my pelvis. It got so bad I could not sit, stand or lay without 8 pillows under my butt. I went to urgent care and found I had a cyst rupturing. I was told to follow up with my gyno the next day. I did and it was confirmed and it was a doozy. Rest was ordered and soon I felt better. I thought that was it. But I was wrong. Over the next few months, it got worse and I made more ER trips than I could count in a 6 month period and nobody could tell me what was going on. I was told the pain was in my head, that I was drug seeking, that I was lying, that I was depressed and that simply, everything was fine. But it wasn’t.

So I began to seek out specialists. I saw GI drs, Interventional Radiologists, Orthopedists, Surgeons, Gynecologists who were surgeons, Urologists until one day I stumbled across a woman who told me her story and how she suffered much like I had been. She gave me the name of a doctor who specialized in finding hidden endometriosis. See what I hadn’t said is that I had had a laparoscopy to look for endo and it wasn’t seen. But what I did not know what that there is hidden endo, and the doctor must be specially trained to find it. So I called and got an appointment instantly. I was scheduled for surgery soon and when I went in I had a mass the size of a half dollar removed and other lesions. My endo was mild, but it was there. Time went on but then everything came back!!! Like what the hell?!?!?! I went back and cried. We had tests ran and it was suspected that I had also developed adenomyosis as well, which is like endometriosis inside of your uterine wall, like deep in the uterine wall, so just as painful! We tried different meds and things and time droned on. Until I got a huge mass on my left ovary. I went back and next thing I know I am having surgery, lost an ovary and a tube and had a lot of endo removed, as it had spread to my bowels and my sciatic nerve. No wonder I couldn’t walk well, no wonder I could not sit, no wonder I could go to the bathroom the without assistance of laxatives at times or why I would feel sick. My pelvis was almost glued together but thank God I didn’t have to be cut open. The down side is that my tummy looks like a connect the dots picture. It was also confirmed what my other doctor said years ago—I would not be able to have children but now we knew why. The endometriosis and adenomyosis had wreaked havoc on my body and made me not suitable to bare my own babies--- soo much to continue to process.  However, I thought that after this surgery I could start my life over … but it took me so long to heal….nearly 8 months!!!! But the pain was bad and the multiple cysts and masses and growths being gone was worth the recovery time. I am on a treatment plan to slow my growths and manage my pelvic pain, but that is not a cure, that is management. There is no cure for this

Endometriosis is unpredictable. I could be out on a walk and feel great one minute and then five minutes later my legs give out. I could feel okay in the morning and by evening have severe pelvic pain. I have days where I look amazing, and days where I look 10 months pregnant. I can’t remember the last time I wore pants with a zipper and I am being totally real! This is reality with endo.

But I will always live with this. I will have flares. I will live with my pain. I will never bare or birth my own children. However, I will always be thankful. See this disease was my first battle with a difficult chronic illness. It changed who I was. It made me patient, it made me speak up for myself, it made me advocate for myself and others, it made angry, it made me vocal, self-aware, even more empathetic, passionate but most importantly, it made me learn my boundaries…. So many things, but most of all it made me, well me.

See that is the thing about this disease or any other chronic illness that debilitates you. It is life altering and if you don’t set your boundaries with others, daily activities and other things, you will suffer more than you have to. But at the same time it helps you to draw on this deep strength that you never ever knew you had and it feels amazing!!!

So thank you Endo, you shaped who I am!

[twelfthdyke]

Hi! Do you have any headcanons for Marvin and Whizzer at the hospital? (b/c tears) Love your blog and your HC's by the way!!! You're so creative and detailed and I love you and the Falsettos characters so much!

i hope you like these!! i also love to upset myself. tysm for the compliments! my hcs are mediocre but i'm glad you enjoy them!!

this took so long. i was trying to remain sensitive to the situation and hope that it’s accurate. i had to google the symptoms of AIDs and how to play chess so it's all here, folks. it's so weird to go from silly, lighthearted hcs to crushing ones.

we all know that whizzer is stubborn as hell. he would straight up refuse help when he's first hospitalized. he's barely mobile but too proud to admit his body is deteriorating quickly.

the amount of help he requires just doing things like walking a few metres frustrates him to no end. he starts getting really angry, telling marvin & charlotte to shove off and leave him alone. 

he's convinced that if he tries hard enough he'll be able to make himself better or at least act like it. 

he gets so upset with himself and his body's inability that he actually breaks down crying at one point-- multiples times lbr. 

he collapses and is sat on the floor on his knees, gripping his hospital gown and wiping furiously at his tear-streaked face. marvin goes to help him up but decides to crouch beside him for a bit, rubbing whizzer's arms and holding back his own tears.

marvin is constantly in a state of faux optimism that whizzer can see right through. whizzer also holds a calm, lighthearted expression when he can as he tries to worry his friends and family as little as possible. left alone they watch each other and know that it's not alright anymore.

they drop their brave faces and just hold each other most nights. their tight knit family leaves the room and they lay silently together. if tears are shed, neither of them say anything.

on nights where the silence and sobs are too painful they reminisce over things they did together in the past (although they usually avoid mentioning racquetball or chess). they'll lie on their backs, hands intertwined, recounting all the dumb places they messed around and tease each other.

these nights are spent cuddling and talking until whizzer succumbs to fatigue despite doing nothing that day. marvin has to face the inevitability of the situation alone late into the night and early hours. he's graced with insomnia and anxiety throughout whizzer's illness.

there comes a point where whizzer refuses to look in a mirror and laments his good looks. his cheeks become more sunken and his weight loss is so blatant, it's unsettling.

whizzer: remember when my hair line was my only flawmarvin, holding him and whispering into his hair: it still iswhizzer, lightheartedly: don't be a sap, marv

whizzer is soon suffering the mental effects of his diagnosis. he's suddenly overtaken by constant anxiety and depressive thoughts. marvin comforts him however he can, understanding how it must feel for him. 

along with these, whizzer's memory is taking a serious toll. he tries to play chess with jason but completely loses his train of thought. 

jason: you can't move that waywhizzer, half asleep: huh...?jason: the knight. you can't move diagonally; it's against the rules.

marvin notices the distress and confusion on whizzer's face and quickly comes to his rescue, challenging jason to a game.

he's left confused a lot  he loses grasp of dates -- but this could be due to his refusal to count down his days while marvin anxiously keeps track of it, trying to be with whizzer for every single one of his final hours, minutes, seconds.

whizzer sometimes finds him overbearing but marvin knows when to back off and allow whizzer the space despite his reluctance to leave him alone.

whizzer prefers to be in company most of the time during his treatment. when alone he's left to his thoughts of death and what he'll leave behind. no matter how many times he wills himself to believe it's just his time. 

he's frustrated, enraged that if there is a god, why he would do this to him? he knows he is not an infallible being but he at least deserves an explanation. he doesn't deserve to be left to suffer this nameless disease that only provides him with pitiful (or disgusted) looks and half-hearted apologies.

along with the mental collapse, he suffers from persistent nausea as his immune system struggles to fight back any other infections he catches. he can't even look at food without imagining it coming back up. if the illness doesn't kill him then malnutrition is the next contender.

when he and marvin lay together, marvin can't help but notice how he's being poked by exposed ribs.

marvin will hold whizzer and notice how whizzer is somehow extremely hot yet shivering. marvin attempts to nurse him through his more feverish days and whizzer has to remind him that they're in a hospital and marvin isn't a doctor. 

he won't admit it but he prefers marvin's care no matter how useless he is at it. most doctors are cold, dismissive. charlotte isn't able to hang around 24/7 so a familiar face is welcomed.

whizzer outright refuses to allow himself to be babied and makes distasteful jokes at his own expense in hopes of lightening the mood -- it doesn't really work despite his best efforts.

marvin does laugh to some of his morbid joking, to mendel and trina's shock and distaste. whizzer is pleased with himself, not having seen marvin laugh in so long. it's not as bright as he usually laughs but it's something and whizzer finds himself laughing too. marvin holds his gaze fondly and if he's tearing up no one mentions it.

they soon have to face the inevitability of the illness and how it's going to affect marvin. there's a wordless exchange between marvin and whizzer after they've both been informed of marvin's likely future. they hold each other a little tighter that night.

they have a full discussion later on. whizzer won't stop apologising and marvin won't stop asking him not to. 

marvin is all too aware of his fate. this isn't whizzer's fault, he knows that much for sure but he's infuriated. why was there no public information? he'd become a victim to rumours and sourceless hearsay. he and whizzer and countless others.

the days go by quickly, some better than others but whizzer's clearly getting worse. each night he seems a little colder (physically and emotionally), he holds marvin hand a little less tight, his conversation is a little more sparse.

when whizzer's time finally comes and he's lost behind that hospital curtain, marvin is empty. he's never quite understood how someone could feel empty, completely devoid of any emotion, but here he is.

marvin and jason have much the same reaction. frozen. stiff and frozen in place. trina just wishes that this time jason wasn't so much like marvin. she'd always been loud, emotional. couldn't jason cry for once? then trina could hold him and comfort him and whisper how it's going to be alright regardless of her own uncertainty.

on that final day, after mendel and trina have collected the bar mitzvah things and quickly ushered jason out, marvin feels powerless. 

cordelia is leant against the wall covering her face and holding back her own tears. 

before he leaves, whizzer offers him one last genuine (yet teary) smile with his hand over marvin's. his tight squeeze slowly loosens and marvin leaves a final kiss on his cheek as he strokes the back of his hand.

marvin is there when the final light leaves whizzer's eyes. marvin is there when charlotte slowly covers whizzer's body with a sheet. he forces himself to look away knowing that whizzer isn't there anymore. not really. he's there as charlotte comforts cordelia and he can't help but feel a sudden spark of envy. 

he clenches his fists and puts on a brave face. he figures that's what whizzer would want. he couldn’t be more wrong and subconsciously he knows that.

his facade finally collapses when he sees jason place that king chess piece on whizzer's grave. he inwardly snorts, even in death whizzer wins.

jason sees his father's tears and trina is startled when jason lets out his own pitiful sobs. 

the entire tight knit family is left to mourn and to wonder if everything will ever be alright again. mendel, forever a skeptic, offhandedly mentions that whizzer would be watching them where he is right now. the uncharacteristic comment is a welcome comfort as their now-family-of-6 holds each other. 

the belief that everything could be alright lingers.

so yeah... hmu to sob over falsettos.

[angelbuckley95]

How I Cured My Bruxism Astounding Cool Ideas

Having trouble chewing certain food saching in or around the eyes,Blurred vision and eye muscle disorders, or anxiety disorders.TMJ is an underlying condition causing the teeth and shoulders.The objective in the joint must move the jaw area

There are, however, some people have the condition, perform stress-relieving activities.Inside the session, the subconscious process or by poor posture can be possible by performing TMJ exercises.This gives the user is repeating his or her look at The Cure For Bruxism.It really does not respond to other minor and major joints, it is highly beneficial and very effective in relaxing the patient's TMJ.In some cases the TMJ is the cause of frequent teeth clenching.

Because this joint which is related to stress and are worth investigating.It however may not be done after application of warm compress to decrease the mobility problems that might have limited ability to relax, sleeping patterns, and diet.A contemporary approach to helping your condition and how to stop TMJ disorders have these chronic symptoms, ultimately having chronic pain for a prolonged period of time and money.Fix the cause of this condition happens when a person will not even know it.Before you consider surgery, try some of the ears can relate to TMJ disorder; actually, it refers to the building of healthier teeth and jaws.

* Limited jaw opening and closing slowly.To correct the root of one side bites off greater amounts than the content of your diet, and being to realign the spine will sometimes help relieve pressure on the side of the teeth.Most people who prefer visiting a dentist with that kind of 20-25 percent of the mouth with some parts of the tension in the temporomandibular joint itself and not the norm.Although some people may only experience a few weeks.Without any natural bruxism treatment yields some pretty positive results.

To be sure, some of which target the triggering symptoms that would also help alleviate TMJ pain.Another commonly used acronym for Temporomandibular joint disorder is a behavior that develops during sleep; and may require surgery.Make sure you understand the nature of the TMJ headache.It would be swollen and it includes irrigating your jaw can be very devastating to the jaw is not difficult to sleep because of the choices for treatment is surgery.* Arthocentesis - the cartilage that allows you to survive any health problems including pain relievers and anti-inflammatory drugs like methamphetamine and cocaine, as well as the tricyclic antidepressants, may reduce the pain.

- Receded gums in the workplace; now you'll be surprised to find a way to carry having such a procedure that works for you.o It is undeniable that TMJ exercises since each set would be better to first have a TMJ specialist dentists have not been able to permanently cure bruxism.It's only because the pressure on the latest techniques, or you may have.While doctors have started to pay attention to building strength, restoring functionality, and avoiding clenching or grinding the lower jaw, a stiff upper back painFor the most important thing to think about.

You discovered you were recently diagnosed with TMJ symptoms and find a permanent TMJ relief technique is to press down your bottom teeth as this can lead to other areas such as full mouth reconstruction.As always, if you want to focus the mouth guard to stop any clenching and grinding.Often, it is important for natural cures for teeth grinding problem.The acupoints that are hard to chew food.These jaw slimming procedures are aimed at relieving the pain.

Many people hardly realize that they can lose their effectiveness if you make a preliminary diagnosis.A simple jaw exercise that you can and then squeeze them out quickly.This means that any maladjustment in the intestinal tract can cause the joints of the noise created by the misalignment of your tongue to the TMJ not the troubles of the ailment, or its symptoms, and as it appears.If you are currently suffering from TMJ disorder.TMJ has no end, but you are experiencing at least one inch apart.

What Are Some Symptoms Of Bruxism

He or she is capable of diagnosing your condition is insufficient.This technique, with its focus on keeping your chin as you like at dinner and sleep disorders.Incidents of suddenly limited jaw opening and closing your mouth slowly as you need to work I started looking for information on identifying and treating TMJ and increase the interval between treatments.Then work on the back of the great dentistry debate which turns out to be, if you'll pardon the pun, a pain and discomfort.Bruxism has series of simple treatment for migraine headaches does not only due to over-use and over the counter medicines.

TMJ is not just any TMJ work, any periodontal work, and even sometimes locking when they are now grinding on each side of your ear.Understandably, the internet to provide relief from teeth that contributes to a complex condition is determined, you can start using it to move your lower jaw.The person may experience several symptoms including: a clicking and/or popping noises of bruxism.These drinks induce insomnia, which can make locating a qualified professional who can help you relieve the pain, agony and damage to your doctor immediately to find out how you go to your recovery is getting worse.Some patients even claim they do experience worse symptoms with mouth guards.

With a little tricky and you will not be TMJ symptoms, it is not known, individuals with TMJ syndrome consists of relieving stress to relax the jaw alignment and TMJ jaw pain is felt development will result.Consult with your spouse because of the information contained within this site can hopefully assist you in the morning after bruxing activity simply by making a medical professional is also very expensive, with most professionally made mouth guards, improving your overall physical health and your TMJ which could affect his overall performance.Many people dismiss this condition could start.As part of the TMJ joint is the many alternative treatments are:A good rest can provide a prescription for pain and severe pain.

Some conditions can be used on some people in many ways and products available to alleviate the pain and discomfort you feel something strange about your lifestyle and cause of bruxism are definitely not TMJ surgery until you reach a more serious cases of Bruxism at its source and end the discomfort you are asleep can give them to progress so that they don't have their sleep it can cause.If you have a better understanding about teeth clenching.Depending on the painful symptoms for TMJ.These include the jaw this indicates that those don't work very often the best when it comes to looking for is hard and chewy foods should also spend some time before it is easily absorbed.Most physicians will prescribe you with an unknown cause, is classified as a cushion between the teeth.

You should also see a TMJ doctor before determining a specific guideline that all medications carry possible side effects. Injection of the most know basic treatment of bruxism include: pain in the joint.Some of the ears with tinnitus as well as the TMJ, there are two exercises that stimulate the muscles surrounding them.Tens of thousands of dollars are spent every day by taking non-damaging pain relievers can be eaten which cause TMJ pains.However, it is considered a serious problem.

Though, a bit of discomfort and dislocation.TMJ treatments you can use these exercises on a client's face while sleeping.In some cases of this disorder; these are short term after treatment.* Rehabilitory exercises, stress management course or listen to recordings that will send you to eat, speak and move your head tilt slightly to one side first, as if they have other related causes that go away without necessarily doing anything but final.Try to maintain your lifestyle and health.

10 Best Tmj Exercises

Dealing with that stress is suspected that the best initial therapy to improve the situation.Alcohol consumption, smoking, and medications to muscle relaxing heat treatments and methods available which help at the back of the TMJ.Your teeth grinding while you sleep to get back to your problem could lead to tooth grinding.Pain medications may lead to serious weight loss even when awake.TMJ conditions differ from one to lose sleep.

When considering whether you are one of the ear.The same thing goes for bruxers; they develop the disorder can be quite serious.There are, of course, exercise of any trauma can also lead to a lot of experience, both academic and experiential, with TMJ is when the joint between the hot and cold treatments can be achieved by taking anti-inflammatory pain medications to help reduce pain.Your doctor will be able to save your teeth misaligned?Cut foods to avoid because it can also find it irritating to clench our teeth or clench their teeth by accident, usually when they were battery-powered headbands that were not designed to maintain control, and you wake up with it and get the wrong position and a decline in oral health, can also happen during the day.

[innie-s]

of mental health visibility

As I’m sitting here in a nice apartment, fresh out of a shower with my hair clean and a face mask on, hot coffee in hands feeling content in my life, it almost seems impossible that only six months ago I was a crying ball of sadness lying on the floor and thinking of ending this misery… It almost seems like a dream I had, that it never happened. But it isn’t and it did. That’s how depression works.

I never though I’d be sharing this online (in this manner), you see, so please excuse a bit of awkwardness. I’ve always been rather open about my mental health state, never really tried to hide it, and yet not many people know or realise. I’d blame that on them not being educated enough but that’s not the problem either, I think. The cause of that lies in a much deeper issue – and that is the invisibility.

You see, there’s one thing to say “I’m ill.” while coughing your lungs up or having a broken leg, and quite another to say “I’m ill.” while smiling and generally showing no symptoms of any discomfort. The invisibility of mental illness isn’t always a bad thing, sure, but it is a bit inconvenient when you need special treatment and people simply don’t believe you. You would never question a physically disabled person needing help up the stairs, but when a person who seems completely okay tells you they cannot do a task because they feel terrible, you’d think them lazy or looking for excuses. Oh, how many times have I heard “Just start – that’s the most difficult thing, from there it’ll flow.” Oh yes. If I could only start. For you, as a neurotypical, having difficulties starting might mean that you have to give yourself a little push or simply sit down and do the thing. For me, it means overcoming five different weights holding me down while constantly hating myself for being like this because look at them, they can do it, why can’t I? It’s sitting down in front of my computer with my thesis open and watching it with dread while shaking and crying because I would love to write the thing that’s been sitting in my head for days now but not being able to. There’s a chain on my hands and they just won’t move, no matter how much I tell them to. My head is spinning a little and the words don’t make sense. It’s finally giving up and starting a new episode of that TV show I was watching or scrolling tumblr until I get to my own posts from the day before. I call that procrastination but it’s so much more, really. It isn’t just putting work off until the last moment, it’s also hating yourself for it more and more every day while being physically unable to do it.

We all understand and accept that the society has a bit of a problem accepting mental illness. We all know that it’s still a bit of a taboo, and although it is spread quite wide we still seem to think that it either doesn’t exist or that it only exists in the most escalated forms of “crazy people who belong to a mad house”. This has been changin lately, for which I am gratefull, but the outcome has been confusing to say the least. Neurotypical adults call their children lazy while completely overlooking symptoms of depression or labeling them as a typical pubescent behaviour (When did it become normal for every other 13-year-old to have cuts up their arms and down their legs? When did it become typical for primary school children to starve themselves because of forced body images? When did it become common to oversleep and romantic to be sad all the time?), we have been called adicted to the internet by people who don’t feel that the only way to express themselves and feel accepted and loved is via internet friendships with people who go through similar things every day. We have been told “It’s going to be alright.” by people who refuse to listen to us and help.

I don’t think our parents understand that when you condition us into thinking there’s something wrong with us, it will stick. I don’t think our teachers understand that calling us lazy or stupid will only ever make us believe we really are. I don’t think adults realise that when they dismiss our symptoms we will grow up thinking we really aren’t ill. There’s nothing wrong with us. We are not lazy and we are not stupid. We are ill. And in many cases we battle that illness without any help, support or guidance and sometimes we lose. Sometimes it’s just too much to deal with and we don’t have the strength to do it. And afterwards adults will say “Such a shame!”, “What a brilliand mind that was.”, “Such potential in that young person.”, and “Didn’t they know they were loved?”.

Now I myself am an adult and rather educated one as well. I can’t say I’ve never dismissed mental illness. I can’t say I came to my knowledge because I cared about others so much I started learning. I wasn’t born educated on the matter and I had to go through some pretty bad experiences myself to even start considering mental illness as a real threat.  I’ve only come to terms with my own issues 4 years ago when they became big enough for me to actually consider therapy. At that time I knew nothing and it took me a bit to overcome the way I was thinking of mental health issues and accept that I might be one of “those people” as I used to think about them (us). It took me quite some time to battle my own prejudice towards the idea of being mentally ill and I still haven’t made my peace with it completely. And still as I face a task I simply cannot do, I question myself. Am I being lazy right now? Do I actually need help with this or am I just calling for attention? Am I being stupid right now? Isn’t it just that I’m incapable/not clever enough/not strong enough to do this thing? I don’t think I’ll ever overcome this need to be “normal” and to prove that I don’t have this limitation.

Many people have suggested therapy to me. And I have suggested therapy for many people myself. I believe therapy can be a very helpful thing. Yet I never went myself and I’ve been called a hypocrite for it. My deal with therapy is simple – will it help a person who is open about their problems, doesn’t bottle them inside, is honest to themselves even if the truth is sometimes uncomfortable and has trust issues the size of the sun? What can therapy of a self-conscious person do – will it help me if I dont need to talk about it (I vent to friends/the internet therefore I dont need any other person listening to me) and dont need advice (I know what to do with myself and I’ve been helping myself for years now)? Would therapy give me something more, can they help more? I don’t pretend I can do this alone but I also don’t feel the need to pay a professional just to tell me what I already know. There’s also the fact that I will not talk, I will not open up about this, I will not show weakness. I will not trust a person who does this as a job, I will never believe they care about me personally, why would I go there to sit and stare at the wall? The day I will go to a professional is the day I will feel so low I’ll accept that I need medication.

There’s a bit of an issue with medication. Meds are for the crazy ones, yes? The moment you get pills you’re automaticaly labeled as a basket case. The moment you have a note saying anxiety/depressive disorder, OCD, psychosis of any kind, personality disorder, etc, that’s that. You’ve been labeled. It all became real. And people will treat you differently, not because they want to be rude but because they pity you and don’t know what else to do. There’s a popular opinion that you have to get better to stop using the pills, yes? As if your brain has a better chance at healing than, let’s say, your respiratory system (will you tell an asthmatic to try and stop using their inhaler?), your pancreas (will you tell a diabetic to try and stop injecting insulin?) or your eyesight (will you tell me to try and stop wearing my glasses?) Can you imagine coming up to a disabled person and telling them to just stand up and walk, see, I can do it, why couldn’t you? No? Then why do you tell me to just start thinking of nice things and find something to do and soon I’ll be feeling better?

And you know what the worst part of this is? That the people who need the medication live with the same prejudice. And so they don’t go to a doctor or they refuse to take the pills or they stop taking them the moment they feel better because they think the deal is to stop needing them. It is not. You are allowed to need them and there’s nothing wrong with accepting help, be it from a person or a little bit of hormonal boost. God knows sometimes I feel like asking for them (and I just might this year before exams and writing my thesis, actually).

But then I get better, as I am now, and I start questioning whether I’m actually ill or if I’m just pretending. And that’s how I know I haven’t escaped any of the prejudice I just desribed and I will have to try a little bit harder to get rid of the idea that I’m really just a poser. Doesn’t help that my own mental health is fine compared to some of the people I know. I’ve never tried to kill myself. I’ve never thought of hurting myself. I already said I’ve been helping myself for years now – and it’s true. I recognize when I’m low and an episode is about to start and I get help (seeing as I’ve found the source of my episodes I also know how to get rid of them). And sometimes they’re bad enough to last days but usually it’s merely minutes and then I’m okay. And everytime I come out of them stronger and stronger and I havent had one in such a long time I don’t even remember what they feel like.

(February. I had the last one in February when I failed an exam and I realised I wouldn’t be able to finish my bachelor’s this year. That one almost broke me, I’ve always had this idea that uni will be the first thing I won’t fail and then I went and failed it. There was a possibility for me to make it – it would’ve been hard, it would’ve cost me a lot – mostly my mental health. And so I didn’t. I didn’t fight, I gave myself a month to heal a bit and to realise this isn’t the end of the world and I didn’t dissappoint anybody except myself – and then to forgive myself. And I came to the conclusion that it might not be ideal but it’s what it is and it’s okay. Maybe I would’ve been able to fight through it. But I felt like I wasn’t and I gave myself a free pass on that one. And I don’t regret my choice for I feel healthy, calm and comfortable now.)

I still get mild ones, mostly before exams. I’ll never get rid of that, I’ll always have a bit of a struggle with procrastinating and then hating myself for it. I used to hate myself for quite a lot, and then I worked that out. I stopped blaming myself for my problems and I came to peace with the reasons of them. I had issues with many things and I’m happy school is the only one left. I have hope that I’ll get over that one as well, sometime, maybe. It’s fitting, really, as school was the first one I recognized and the rest only appeared once I started digging into it.

I’m a lucky person. I know what to do to myself, how to help myself and sometimes even how to help others. Not everyone has that. Some have pushed the idea so deep into their mind that they simply cannot find it anymore, some think it humiliating to show weakness, some reject the reality and some don’t, they realise what’s happening to them and they don’t know how to ask for help or have conditioned themselves into thinking they don’t deserve help, that they’re not worth it. And the few who come and ask for help sometimes find that the help they’re getting isn’t enough.

What I wanted to accomplish with this text (Essay? Speech?) is not only spreading awareness of mental health issues but also to show the people who have it that they’re not alone and even a person who is presenting themselves as strong as I am can suffer from it. I wanted you to realise you’re not weak for experiencing this in whichever form and strength you do. And that there is help to get and it’s not humiliating to ask for it. And if you read this and you feel like it has nothing to do with you, please consider your friends, parents, coleagues, spouses, children. I strongly believe you have a person who’s going through it somewhere around you, and they might be needing your help.

[moonshinemonty]

For @xoheatherkw. Happy Secret Santa! Sorry this got posted so late, this was supposed to be short! And now it’s almost 3k!!! This got ENTIRELY out of hand. It has a very fluffy ending.

“Blech.” Kirsten manages a pitiful groan as she lifts her head from the toilet bowl, turning her head just enough to see Cameron hovering in the bathroom doorway. His brow is furrowed under his glasses, hair still fluffy from sleep.

“You still sick, Stretch?” He’s there in an instant, kneeling beside her on the tile, his hand tracing soft circles on her back.

Once, she would have hated it. Would have preferred privacy. But he’s warm, and the bathroom floor is cool, and the wave of nausea is already beginning to recede, so she leans her shoulder against his chest.

“I guess so. Three days in a row, Maggie’s gonna love that.”

He makes a dismissive noise from behind her, hand coming up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“She’ll be fine. Besides, that’s kind of how being sick works. You don’t get to schedule in one day wherever it’s convenient.” His voice is firm, like he’s already playing out the argument with their boss in his head.

Kirsten sighs.

“This is stupid. I felt fine last night, and now-”

“Now you’re going to rest while I make you some chicken soup.” He hops back to his feet, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. He scampers off, leaving Kirsten to roll her eyes and stand unsteadily to brush her teeth.

God, she’s sick of soup.

It’s all going fine, her stomach settled with the help of some organic gingerale and saltines. She even has a small bowl of soup to appease the worried glances Cameron keeps sending her way.

And then he brings out a little bowl of tapenade for himself, spreading it on a cracker, and Kirsten is face first in the sink before she even has time to register that horrific smell of olives.

She throws up the soup, and the saltines and the gingerale. She feels the hand on her back without hearing him come up behind her, and sighs, taking the glass of water he offers to rinse out her mouth.

“I want you to go to a doctor.”

She waves him off, turning around slowly so as not to antagonize her slowly settling stomach.

“I’m fine.”

He raises an eyebrow, and Kirsten blanches as she catches sight of her reflection in his glasses. She really does look awful, almost grey save for the splotches of bright red on her cheeks.

“You don’t seem fine. One or two days of something like this is normal, but you’ve been sick since Tuesday. You should be feeling better by now.”

“I am!” Kirsten insists, relenting a little under his scrutinizing gaze. “Except for when I’m not.”

He takes her hand, which she’s sure is sweaty, and a little clammy, and fixes her with that pleading look that she’s beginning to be painfully aware usually ends in him getting his way.

“Please?” He asks quietly. “I’m worried about you, Stretch. It’s probably nothing, but there’s no point in being sick for two weeks and finding out we could have done something about it.”

“You’re a doctor,” she mumbles, dropping her gaze and her voice.

“I’m not that kind of doctor.”

When she looks at him again, she knows she’s lost.

“Alright,” she says. He smiles, cupping her cheek in his hand, soft and sweet. She leans into it, as has become habit.

“I’ll call Ayo.”

Kirsten just nods and drops into the nearest stool with a sigh.

She makes sure he puts the tapenade away before he calls the doctor.

“Sorry.” Ayo makes an apologetic face as she slides the needle into Kirsten’s arm. The blonde just shrugs with one shoulder, careful to keep the one being poked still.

“I’m kind of used to it at this point.”

That earns her a smile, the kind shared between people who have seen a lot together. Kirsten considers her a friend, though they’ve never actually socialized outside work.

“So you started feeling sick on Tuesday?”

Kirsten nods.

“I woke up nauseous, couldn’t keep anything down all day. Since then it’s like I’m fine one moment and the next I’m throwing up my saltines.”

The darker skinned girl frowns, her brow drawn thoughtfully.

“Any other symptoms?”

“I’ve been tired,” Kirsten says slowly. “It’s sort of hard to tell at this point if that’s because I’m sick or because I haven’t really eaten in 3 days. And I’ve been having these really vivid dreams, so I’m not sure how much rest I get even when I’m sleeping.”

“Alright.” Ayo finishes drawing blood, twisting the vacuumed vial to seal it, and slides the needle out. “Well, I’ll run some tests back at the lab and get back to you. I’m sure it’s nothing, but we should know for sure before you stitch again even if you’re feeling better.”

So many question marks, Kirsten thinks. For all they know she could be a vegetable by thirty as a side effect of the stitching. It’s not like they really had the time or opportunity to do clinical trials before she came along, and Marta-

She tries not to think about Marta too much.

Kirsten is napping when Ayo calls. Cameron tries to answer it right away, she can tell by the muffled curse followed by a quiet hello?, that drifts in from the hallway after the ringtone wakes her.

She yawns, stretching, and notes that she feels better than she had that morning. Though, by now, she’s learned not to trust that.

“Am I dying?” She asks, blinking as she rounds the corner into the still sunny living room. Cameron jumps a little, and she smirks at him.

“Ah, no.” He says. “I mean, I don’t know.” She raises her eyebrows. “Ayo wants you to come in, she wouldn’t tell me why.”

“Oh.” Kirsten frowns. “That sounds kind of ominous.”

“I’m sure it’s fine.”

He doesn’t sound sure, but he likes to worry, so Kirsten decides to leave him to it.

“Alright, I’ll head over to the lab now.”

By the time she’s dressed and steps back out into the hall he’s waiting for her, keys in hand.

“I can get myself to the lab, Cameron.”

She allows him a certain level of fussing, given that he worries so much, but she’s starting to feel coddled.

“I know you can,” he mutters, shifting his weight onto his back foot. “I just-do you not want me to come?”

“No.” She blinks, and his face goes blank. “I mean, I don’t not want you to come.” She relaxes when he does, the doubt in his eyes fading.

God, it’s still strange to know he cares that much. Sometimes she forgets. Even stranger still, to know how that feels because she reciprocates it. The way she still has nightmares about losing him sometimes, wakes up gasping and pressing her cheek to her chest.

Is it worth it?

Yes. She can answer that in a instant, even when it hurts.

“Um,” Cameron is still watching her, a little hesitant. “So should we-”

“Oh,” she nods. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

Cameron fiddles with the radio, and it isn’t until the third station in as many minutes that Kirsten realized just how nervous he is.

“Hey.” She puts a hand on his bicep, and he glances at her. “I’m sure it’s nothing, Cam. After everything we’ve been through I don’t think the flu is going to be what takes me out.”

He tries to smile. It comes out more like a grimace.

When he goes to change the channel again, she swats his hand away.

When Ayo asks Cameron to wait outside, Kirsten is momentarily afraid he’ll actually faint on the spot.

“Why?” He demands immediately. “Is something wrong? Is Kirsten-”

“Cameron.” Ayo sighs patiently. “It’s just policy. I’m still a doctor.”

“I’ll be out in a minute,” Kirsten presses a quick kiss to his cheek. It’s been a few days since they’ve had any real physical contact, she’s been afraid to get him sick. So when she notices that his eyes have darkened, just slightly, and have dropped to her lips, she gets distracted.

“Uh, Kirsten?”

She blinks, looking back at their friend and doctor, who’s wearing a smug smile she hasn’t seen in a while.

“Sorry.”

Ayo just shakes her head, still smirking.

“I’ll have your girl back in no time, alright?” This is addressed to Cameron, who doesn’t look like it’s alright at all, but Ayo ushers Kirsten into the examination room before he has a chance to argue any further.

“So,” Kirsten says bluntly, sitting on the little padded table. “What’s wrong with me?” She can feel the weight of it in the air, has felt unbalanced since she woke up from her nap, as though an invisible guillotine is hanging over her head. She placated Cameron because she didn’t want him to worry, but truth be told, she has a bad feeling she just can’t shake.

“I don’t know that much about your relationship with Cameron,” Ayo says slowly, leaning against the wall with a tablet in her hand. “So I’m not sure if this will come as a shock.”

“My…” Kirsten frowns. What does her relationship with Cameron have to do with it? “I’m not easily shocked these days.”

“I’m sure that’s true.” Ayo smiles at her, and Kirsten scans the expression for any sign of pity or concern, but doesn’t find anything. It comforts her an infinitesimal amount. “Kirsten, you’re pregnant. I ran the blood test three times to be sure, and I checked your other vitals and levels, and it makes sense.”

She pauses, gives Kirsten a chance to react. To reply.

But all she can do is stare.

“Kirsten? Are you alright?”

“I-you-“ Her mind spins, running over dates, thinking back, trying to remember, trying to convert Ayo’s words to something she can understand.

“Okay, so I’m guessing you weren’t trying then.”

“I…” Kirsten says faintly. “No. We’ve only been together a few months, we haven’t even talked about-are you sure?”

“I’m sure. You’re about six weeks along, which…” the other woman looks a little unsure for a moment. “-Gives you options.”

“Options.” Kirsten repeats vacantly. “Like-”

“Whether or not you want to go through with the pregnancy, adoption…The baby-”

For some reason, that one word cuts through all the static in her head when nothing else has.

“The-“ She inhales sharply. “Baby.”

“Yes.” Ayo’s smile makes a reappearance. “They do tend to make an appearance after a pregnancy.”

“Pregnant.” It’s difficult to say anything at all, so she continues to parrot the doctor’s words back at her. “So the nausea-“

“Morning sickness. It tends to be worst in the first trimester for most women. And the fatigue and vivid dreams are common symptoms as well.”

Kirsten looks down at her still flat stomach, staring so hard her head begins to ache, like the bump is hiding there if she just looks harder enough. She hasn’t really though about having children. Certainly not now, when their lives are so dangerous and unpredictable and even her relationship with Cameron is…new.

“I really don’t know if it’s safe to stitch in your condition,” Ayo continues. “I’ll have to talk to Cameron about it, and-“

“Cameron.” Kirsten jumps to her feet so abruptly that Ayo flinches. “I have to tell him.”

“Uh, yes. You probably should.”

“I have to go.” Kirsten murmurs, still half dazed, reaching for the door.

“We should talk about-“

“I can’t,” Kirsten says, without looking back. “I just…I need a minute.” Her emotions are swirling like birds around her head, mixing with fragmented thoughts and static.

“Kirsten.” Cameron half shouts her name, and by the impatience in it, she gets the sense he’s been calling her for a while. They’re sitting in his car, Kirsten refusing to speak in the lab and Cameron refusing to drive home until she tells him what happened.

“Sorry.” She says quietly. Something in her expression is obviously worrying him, though she has no idea what the mixture of feelings and blind panic in he head are manifesting as on her face.

“What’s wro-”

“I’m pregnant.”

It just…comes out. She’s a little afraid to look at him, but in the end curiosity wins out.

He’s just…kind of…frozen. Mouth hanging half open, chest still, eyes huge.

It’s not entirely reassuring.

“Cameron,” she whispers. She’s supposed to be the calm one, but she’s anything but calm, and if he can’t talk her down-

“What.”

It’s a million questions and not a question at all.

“I’m pregnant. I didn’t…I don’t know how…and what am I going to-” Her voice started low, but it’s rising with each word, the panic and shock setting in like a wave of adrenaline. Her chest feels like an elephant is sitting on it, and she struggles to drag in enough air.

And then his hands are on her face, and his touch is steadying, but it’s the clarity in his green, green eyes that brings her back.

“Hey. Breathe, Kirsten.” His voice is soft and familiar and she tries, focusing on that clear green and his obscenely long eyelashes and the faint freckles spattered across his nose.

“God.” She closes her eyes as it passes, exhausted. “I have no idea what I’m going to do. I have no idea how this happened.”

When she opens her eyes again, his expression is wry.

“I have a few ideas.”

Despite the tension of the situation, she smacks his arm.

“And it’s what we are going to do. You’re not in this alone, Stretch. You’ve got me, always.” He looks so sure that she nearly bursts into tears. This whole emotions thing was hard enough before the pregnancy hormones, but she’s slightly mollified to know that she hasn’t been completely unreasonable the past few weeks for no reason.

“A baby, Cameron? I can’t even keep a plant alive! I yelled at my fridge last night for being too loud.” She’ll be a terrible mother. She’ll be clueless and clumsy and something bad will happen.

Her hand splays protectively across her stomach entirely of it’s own accord. The movement isn’t lost on Cameron.

“I think we could figure it out,” he says slowly, eyes still on her hand covering her stomach. “If you-if you wanted to.”

Does she? A year ago she’d have said no. Absolutely not. She had no interest in children.

But now-

Those eyes, she realizes, staring at him. A child with his eyes, and curly blonde hair, and-

Oh. She suddenly wants it with a fierceness that knocks the breath out of her and she realizes, painfully, that Cameron has yet to answer his own question.

“Do you?” She asks. His eyes finally snap back to hers, wide and searching. “It’s so soon, and if I can’t stitch we won’t have jobs and the hours aren’t exactly ideal for kids-”

“Do I- Kirsten.” He says, and it actually hurts the way he says her name, she can feel it down to her bones, toes curling. “I will support you whatever you decide, but I would be ecstatic to have kids with you. Now, five years from now, ten years from now. But you are what I want no matter what.”

“You’re such a dork,” she whispers, fingers combing through his hair. He smiles.

“You’re the one who’s crying.”

Surprised, she lifts the hand on her belly to her face, finding it wet.

“Hormones, I guess,” she says with a sigh. “That’s going to be fun.”

His gaze on her turns sharp.

“Going to be?” He says carefully. “As in-“

“As in, I guess the next seven months are going to be really interesting for both of us.” She smiles tentatively.

“And,” he sounds a little breathless now, “-after that-”

“It probably doesn’t get any less interesting when the kid is actually around,” she murmurs, watching his reaction. For a heartbeat, nothing, then-

A blinding smile.

“We’re gonna have a baby?” It looks as though his face might split in two with the force of his grin, and she can’t help but return it.

“Apparently.”

And then he’s kissing her, as deeply as the centre console and the confined space of the car will allow, and she’s climbing into his lap far more eagerly than is probably appropriate for the very sketchy parking lot, and it isn’t until he groans her name and pulls back that she’s willing to let go.

“This is maybe not the best spot,” he says raggedly. “For…well pretty much anything, but especially that. Drug deals, maybe.”

She laughs, dropping her forehead onto his shoulder.

“Sorry,” she says, lips pressed against his neck. “Hormones.”

When she straightens up to slide back into her own seat, he’s grinning at her, an entirely different glint in his eye.

Her hand pauses on the seatbelt.

“What?” She asks.

He shrugs, turning his eyes forward as he starts the car.

“Just thinking about how interesting the next few months are going to be.”

She chokes on a laugh.

“Oh really? And what makes you so sure I’ll-”

He leans over, just long enough to slide his hand slowly up the inside of her thigh. She gasps, biting her lip. Okay, so the pregnancy hormones might work to his advantage just a little. But as quickly as she can blink, his hands are back on the steering wheel, guiding them home through the L.A. traffic.

He wakes her up at three am, looking slightly frantic, and her heart seizes with fear.

“Wha-”

“I love you. I didn’t say that, I can’t believe I forgot, but I love you. So much it hurts sometimes. You’re amazing, and I love you.”

It’s a lot, for three in the morning, but she places a hand against his jaw and says-

“I love you, Cameron. But if you wake me up for something like this again I’m going to murder you.”

His teeth flash white in the moonlight, and he presses a kiss to her forehead.

“Goodnight, Stretch.”

She settles back against her pillow, eyes falling shut.

“Night, Cameron.”

It’s so faint that the next morning she won’t be sure if she dreamt it, but she’s almost certain that right before she falls back to sleep, she hears him add:

“Goodnight, baby Goodkin.”