#honestly i’m a little delirious because i’ve been awake since 5 for no good fucking reason and i feel like i’ve been beaten up

[fingertipsmp3]

Local woman realises classmate she has a crush on looks a bit like Sideshow Bob, 8 dead everyone injured

[laurie-stark]

Get up and get out

Summary: Sort of part two to Unwanted. A year after fighting in Germany, y/n has to deal with the insufferable Peter Parker being around the house all the time. 

Pairings: Peter Parker x stark!reader, tony stark x daughter!reader, Natasha Romanoff x daughter!reader. 

Warnings: swearing, angst? i guess? mentions of blood. mentions of panic nightmares 

A/N: Again, I want to make it very clear so there isn’t any confusion: Y/n is Tony’s biological child, however, being raised also by Natasha, Steve and Pepper, she calls them Muma, Pops and Mom. Hopefully that makes sense LOL oh and also i’ve never written like...kiss scenes before so just go with it okay?

He was here again. Third time this week that he has come barging into my home and taken over my training center. Okay, to be fair, it was not my training center but still. Peter Parker will never stop being a pain in my ass. Ever since that stupid trip to Germany, he has been coming over and training for hours, or working with Dad. Three times just this week I’ve had to endure listening to Peter talk with his stupid little voice and walk around my house like he owns the place. Who does he think he is? And every time I have to sit through another dinner of Dad blabbing on and on about what a miraculous boy he is.

               “Really y/n, I think you two would be great friends,” I rolled my eyes as I picked at my dinner. The rest of the family ate in silence around the table. The last thing I wanted to do is spend more time with stupid Spider-boy. On the afternoons when he was here, I tried my best to stay out of his way. I would stay on my floor and he stays on his. Simple. I don’t need a new friend.

“…And he’s coming by again tomorrow, so I was thinking of showing him A.P.R.I.L. if you wanted to join us-” Dad continued.

What the hell? I thought. “No!” I snapped. “No way. A.P.R.I.L. is mine, I don’t want him messing with her.” Dad frowned at me. The rest of the table looked up in my direction. My shoulders tensed up as I faced my father. A.P.R.I.L. is my baby and I was ready to go toe to toe with him if I needed too.

“What do you mean no? I thought you’d be excited to share that with him,” he started.

“Well I’m not, so back off,” I sneered. The shift in his expression made me want to bite my own tongue. “Please.”

“I seriously do not understand what your problem is. You’ve been complaining for years how there’s only adults but the second a kid your age comes by you’re all “oooh no don’t talk to me Peter!””

I scoffed. “Sorry, I guess I just don’t want to bother you and your new best friend.”

“There it is. Why are you so jealous of him? He’s not that cool. He hasn’t made a fully functioning A.I at the age of 15. He just spits sticky stuff out of his fingers. Honestly y/n, you’re making zero sense right now.”

“Whatever, I’m over this,” I said, pushing my chair back from the table. I grabbed my untouched dinner plate and headed towards the kitchen. “I’m not hungry. And don’t show him A.P.R.I.L., I mean it!” I dumped my plate in the sink and marched right down the hall towards the elevators. My dad was right. I wasn’t making any sense. Ever since I made A.P.R.I.L I’ve used every excuse I could find to shove her down people’s throats. Anyone who would listen to me, I would tell them. Tell them all about how I programmed her to have realistic personality. How she’s running through the walls of this place, through my room, even inside the bracelet I never take off. All I knew is that I didn’t want Peter Parker anywhere near her.

I shut the door to my hard, and flopped onto my bed. A.P.R.I.L. reminded me that slamming the doors usually results in a punishment. I acknowledged her with a half-hearted grunt. I started programming A.P.R.I.L. when I was thirteen. Or rather, reprogrammed. A.P.R.I.L. was made from an older prototype version of F.R.I.D.A.Y. The base stuff was already there, I just moved some things here, recoded there until she was perfect. I don’t know why I got so defensive about Peter meeting her. Or why I had to pick another fight with my dad.

It was easier these days. To fight him, I mean. I suppose I never got over the whole “Peter is better, I choose him over you, blah, blah” thing as much as I thought I did. So, I would pick fights. Fighting over Peter was the simplest way to go, considering he was the reason I was so angry in the first place. Sometimes we would fight over him, other times we would fight over silly things. Like how I keep forgetting not to put my coffee grounds in the garbage disposal. Most of the time it was all just bickering that would blow over in thirty minutes, give or take. Sometimes it was explosive, like today.  I took in a shaky breath and sprawled out across my sheets. Sometimes this family is a fucking nightmare.

Dad didn’t come by this time. It threw me off for a second because he always comes by. Even if it’s six hours later and neither of us should be awake, he still comes by with a box of milk duds that we share in silence before one of us apologizes first. That’s how we work. When it finally sunk in that he was not planning on coming, I put A.P.R.I.L. on the job. I figured perhaps he left the compound, maybe took Mom for a nighttime stroll.

“Your father is on floor B, Miss Stark,” A.P.R.I.L. informed me.

“Jesus A.P.R.I.L., how many times have I said to cut the formalities,” I muttered.

“My apologies, y/n.”

Floor B. What the hell is he doing on floor B at…12:00 in the morning? Floor B is strictly for members of household and other Avengers. There are a billion different training rooms down there. Weight rooms, boxing, a huge pool, stuff like that. Not to taint his image, but I can safely say the last time my father willingly worked out for fun was probably before I was even born. Why was he down there? Unless…

“A.P.R.I.L. who else is on floor B right now?” I asked. “Throw it on the hologram, would you dear?

The sounds of the hologram starting filled the room. A.P.R.I.L. pulled up the security map of floor B, like I’d asked. There was my dad, floor B in the boxing room of all places. Pops and Sam looked to be going at it in another one of the combat training rooms. My confusion only rose when another nametag popped up on the screen. My brows furrowed.

Peter Parker

What was he doing here? Why was he boxing? Why was he not in his own home at midnight on a Thursday? My mind was spinning with questions. A knock at my door startled me.

“Come in…”

Natasha popped her head through the doorway. “Hey there…whatcha doing kid?”

I swiftly swiped away the hologram screen and sat up straight. “Nothing. What’s up?”

“Well, we’re getting a little worried about you,” she said. We being everyone else at the table who had to witness my brawl with Dad. She sat down beside me. “You haven’t fought back like that in a long time and I’ve noticed you’re fighting with him a lot recently. You want to tell me what that’s all about?”

I wanted too. God, I wanted too. I hadn’t told anyone what my father said to me that day after the airport, not even my mom. But it didn’t matter. I’d get over it sooner or later, so there was no point troubling anyone else with my problems…right? My eyes started to well up but I blinked away the tears. “No. Everything’s fine,” I put on a smile.

Natasha tucked me in under her arm. “Okay then. Maybe tomorrow.” That was Muma for you. She never pushed me to talk but knew I would come around at some point. In the meantime, she just held me. I cried into her embrace. She let me cry into her shoulder for a long while, until I was empty. After a time, I let go and she got up, giving me a kiss on the head before wishing me a good night.

I rubbed my hands over my face, brushing off any remaining tears. “A.P.R.I.L. bring the hologram back up please.”

“Are you sure y/n?”

…

“Yeah.”

Peter was still in the boxing room but my father was not. Upon further digging, I found the nametag reading Tony Stark on my floor. He’d gone to bed. I pondered to myself as to whether or not I should venture downstairs. What is the worst thing that could happen? Peter is secretly a Hydra spy and kills me? No, I shook my head. Don’t be ridiculous. Another minute passed and I’d made up my mind.

“A.P.R.I.L. engage “I am definitely here”,” I commanded.

“”I am definitely here” protocol engaged. Volume minimized to 5% and your tracking tag will be pinned to this room,” A.P.R.I.L. responded. “Good luck on your mission small agent.”

“Oh shut up,” I chided. I closed the door to my room as softly as I could. It was nearly one in the morning, most of the hall would be asleep. Or at least they should be. The hallway was silent, except for the soft noise of my socks padding along the floor. I cursed myself for looking so ridiculous. If anyone caught me, I could easily say that I was just getting a midnight snack. Not sneaking down to spy on Spider-bitch. Boy. Whatever. Sneaking added to the excitement.

I made it downstairs all in one piece. Steve and Sam nearly passed me in one of the halls, but I had ducked into a briefing room. I could totally be a spy. Maybe I’m a Hydra spy. I thought. And they sent me here as a baby to take down the Avengers from the inside. What was I going on about? This was why I should really be in bed, I was clearly delirious. Once again, distracting myself in my thoughts led to me getting startled. I hadn’t even realized I was outside the boxing room. I would have walked right in if not for the handy wall that I smacked into.

Peter was in the ring, practicing his punches. He’d lowered down one of the punching bags from the ceiling and it was close to ripping at the seams. He was really going ham on it. The questions piled on. So, he came over to my house at midnight to…train? Something he had all afternoon today to do? God, he was weird. I suppose I didn’t quite know what I was going to get myself into when I finally walked in to confront him.

“What are you doing?” I asked, arms folded tightly across my chest.

Peter started and looked down at me. Sweat was dripping down his face. He looked exhausted. “Training,” he said bluntly. He returned to treating the punching bag like it had run over his dog.

“At one in the morning? And after you spent like six hours today doing just that?” I was not letting him off that easy. Peter ignored me and continued punching. “Your form is shit.” I mocked.

That made him stop. “Funny coming from the girl who never leaves her room. When have you ever trained? Like ever?”

“I still beat your ass.”

“Yeah like, a year ago when I was barely an avenger.”

I rolled my eyes. “You still aren’t.”

“What do you want?” Peter spat.

I shrugged. “Dunno.” I stared him down with a smug look on my face.

“You are always such a bitch, you know that?”

I faked a pout. “Aw…bite me.”

Peter was chewing the inside of his cheek in anger. “If you’re going to stay here and pester me, you might as well get a few punches in.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Consider it a rematch.”

I studied his physique for a moment. He’d grown a lot since Germany. He’d also trained a lot since then as well. I had done little of either. I knew that entering that ring would probably end up with me losing my dignity and maybe even a tooth. But I was not going to let him stand there with his stupid, sweaty face and get away with it. This is not a good idea, I thought as I took off my socks. I moved the ropes and stepped into the ring, standing a foot in front of the boy.

“I’ll still win.”

“No powers either.”

“Deal.” Not like I’ve touched my powers since…since the incident.

Peter took his stance and I did my best to mirror him. I realized in that moment that I had no idea what I was doing. I didn’t know the first thing about boxing. Or sparring. I didn’t know how to fight without my powers. Oh, sweet Jesus.

We kept our distance at first, fists up. He threw a few punches and missed. I followed in suit. I finally got the first hit, a nice throw to his chest. He took it like a champ and didn’t flinch. Or rather, I couldn’t hit for shit and it didn’t hurt. He threw a punch to my left, only to miss on purpose and punched me square across my jaw. Ow. I chuckled lowly. The taste of blood filled my mouth from the fresh cut on my lip. I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth. All I could see was white rage.

Forget form, forget rules, forget everything. I lunged at him with everything I had. Lunged at him for all the bullshit he had brought into my life. For all the bitter things I had to hear my father say that weren’t even Peter’s fault. He was clearly not expecting my attack because we both fell to the ground. We fought tirelessly on the mat. He was physically stronger than me, so by default he was winning. He wrestled me until I was pinned under him. One hand was pinning my hand above my head, the other arm pinning down my body. In any other circumstances I would be amused to find myself in such a scandal. I looked in his eyes briefly and I could already tell he thought that he was winning. If there’s one thing I learned from Nat, it’s to always step on their moment. I hooked my leg around his knee and used all my force to flip us over. I had him pinned down now, my hair falling around my face. We were both breathing heavily.

“Told you,” I taunted. I was mentally preparing him to punch back but he didn’t. He snapped his arms out from under me and shoved me off him, hard. I fell back against the mat. He rose to his feet, brushing his hands off on his pants. “What the hell?” I exclaimed. I jumped to my feet while his back was turned to me and gave him a taste of his own medicine. He stumbled a few steps after I pushed him. Slowly, he stretched back up to reach his full height.

“You’re right,” he turned to face me and extended a hand. “Shake on the truce?” I took his hand, accepting his surrender. Only, he was not really surrendering. The moment my hand touched his, he yanked me towards him. I tripped over my feet and fell into him. My chest crashed onto his. The world was a blur as he grabbed me with force and spun us around, so he could push me up against the ropes of the ring.

“Stop, Peter get off me you bitch!” I fought back. I flailed my whole body around, trying to break loose. One hand reached up to grab the back of my head, pulling my hair and forcing my head back. I froze. His face was dangerously close to my exposed neck. His shift let my opposite arm break free. I took a breathe and reeled it back, ready to smack him in the across the face. He caught my wrist in time without taking his eyes off mine.

He lowered his head to whisper in my ear, “I win.” His breathe trickled down my neck. He had won, but he wasn’t moving. One hand was still in my hair, the other was pinning me against the ropes. His chest breathed heavily against my own. His grip on my head loosened slightly and I was able to look him straight on. He had that same smug look pasted across his face. His eyes moved from mine, trailing down my face, my neck, my body, before they settled on my lips. I momentarily lost the ability to breathe.

He kissed me hard. I tensed up slightly before giving into him completely. It tasted like blood and sweat and I felt like I was losing my mind. He pulled me closer, if that was even possible and claimed my mouth with his until my knees gave out. A newfound wave of warm washed through me. The hand in my hair gave a slight tug and my lips parted while that same hand moved to cup my jaw. For all I knew, the entire compound was wide awake and watching but I did not care. I brought my fingers to his hair, tugging at the ends. I smiled cunningly when he groaned into my mouth. He kissed me greedily and fully. Like he hated me. And I hated him.

We broke apart, limbs numb and chests heaving. The moment had passed, and our actions sunk in. What. The. Fuck. He lifted the ropes for me, and I climbed out of the ring. My head was still spinning from that kiss and my lip stung. Consequences I suppose, for kissing someone with a busted lip. I silently pulled my socks back on and Peter handed me a towel. Neither of us said another word. I left the room and didn’t look back. I could hear him behind me, but I was in no rush to have to look him in the eye ever again. What just happened?

 I woke the next morning to A.P.R.I.L. alerting me that “Father Dearest” was outside my door. He came in and sat on the edge of the bed. We both stayed quiet for a while.

I spoke first. “Where were you last night? You didn’t come by after…” I let my words trail off.

“I was going to, I swear. But then something came up with Peter and I had to go take care of that,” Dad answered.

I frowned. “Typical. Peter over your own flesh and blood, right?”

Dad inhaled sharply like he was going to bite back, but changed his mind. “That’s not true and you know it. Peter is…he’s going through something and I knew how to help him. Not everything is about you, you narcissist,” He said, joking at the end.

I had to push down my own smile. “Yeah well where do you think I got it from?” I sat up and leaned into my father. He brushed a hand down my back. “So, what’s wrong with Peter then?”

“I really shouldn’t tell you, it’s personal.” I looked up at him with my doe eyes. He rolled his eyes and sighed, nodding a silent defeat. I felt like I was nine again and he was gossiping with me about the latest secretary. Like every fight had been forgotten in this moment. “He’s been having some nightmares ever since DC. You remember the ones we used to get after Loki?” I nodded. “Now you, you always amazed me at how you handled those. But for me and Peter, we needed a different outlet. So, I let him come over in the middle of the night. I didn’t think anyone would notice.” I hummed in response, not sure what to make of that information. I mean, I kind of felt bad for the guy. He was still a bitch, but those dreams suck. No one should have to deal with them. “He really isn’t as bad as you think, you know.”

“Yeah,” I hummed. “I think you’re right.”

tag list:

@runawayolives @ creation-magician @ eridanuswave @ markhyucksmells @ beep-beep-losersclub

[alovesongshewrote]

If you’re taking requests, maybe something about Doux finding the reader absolutely delirious from lack of sleep? I may or may not have gotten literally any sleep last night and although I managed to get through my morning routine pretty efficiently I FEEL my body just wiping out. I will be comatose within the hour.

Sleep, Darling | Hisirdoux Casperan x Reader

Plot:  you’ve been awake for too long and it is not doing you any favours.  Thank god for punk wizards who care about your wellbeing, amirite lads?  (Also, the pure Irony that this is getting posted at like, 2:40 am where i am, rip me i guess)

Word Count: 2,292

Warnings:  A bit of blood is mentioned in passing, the reader isn’t human and probably has adhd or smthn.  Also, Friends is mentioned, like, the tv show, so that’s a thing!

A/N:   if you look closely, you can actually see me projecting onto this one.  I hope you got some sleep anon.

Tags:   @furblrwurblr @einahpetsyarcip @sorrels-scribbling @anxious-stitcher @alive-and-afraid @animedweeb333 @douxiesdamsel @saroski05

Time isn’t real.  It’s a social construct made to bring order to the general chaos that is human existence.  That was why you were up at 5 a.m for the second, maybe third, night in a row.  Was it healthy?  Probably not, but you didn’t need sleep, you needed answers.  Answers to what?  Who knows at this point, honestly.

You couldn’t say you were surprised when you finally noticed the late, or early hour.  You just shrugged it off and went “fuck it, all-nighter,” which was fine for the moment.  But time’s a bitch, and that moment was over pretty fast.  By noon, you were ready to collapse.  The three cups of coffee did not help.  Instead, they made you vibrate at a frequency that could quite possibly break glass.  As much as this sucked for you, it was worse for your lovely friend and co-worker, Hisirdoux Casperan.

Now, our boi Douxie was and is madly in love with you, but shhh, it’s a secret.  You also love him, and that’s a secret too.  Neither of these secrets are well kept, and the only reason you aren’t together is general stupidity.  Literally, anyone else who watches the two of you interacting can tell that you're in love.  Hell, half the town assumes you’re together already.  The other half keeps trying to get you together.  It is not working very well.  But that’s all a digression.  What you really need to know is that Douxie loves you and watching you suffer from a lack of sleep was Not A Pleasant Experience.  You were delirious, shaky, and constantly off-balance.  You could work well enough, but it was clear that your health was not in the same zone.

The final straw came when you cut your hand on broken glass.  You’d dropped a cup, and instead of using magic, you’d tried to fix the mess by hand.  That plan did not work, and you received a bloody slash across your palm for your troubles.

“Ah.  Fuck,” you said, thinking you were whispering but instead speaking at a normal volume.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“‘S nothing, I’ve got it,” you did not got it, especially not in this state, and Douxie had the good sense to figure that out.  The blood was a pretty good hint though.

“Oh, fuzzbuckets.”

“I told you, I’m toooootally fine, there is nothing to worry about.”

“Here, (Y/N), let me help you-”

“No, no, this is, this is-” it was then that your sleep-deprived brain decided to cut off your train of thought and replace it with another, more chaotic train.  You stopped talking and just stared at Douxie for a solid minute.  Or at least it felt like a solid minute.  Time isn’t real, remember that.

“(Y-Y/N)?  You alright there, darling?”

“You’re really cute, did you know that?  Like… really cute.  Steve was right, you could be a model.”

“I-”

“Also, just gonna put it out there, I freakin’ love it when you call me darling.  Like, I know you call most people darling, but it makes me feel special.  Don’t ask why, it just does.”

Douxie wasn’t planning on asking why.  He wasn’t really planning on anything.  Your sleep-deprived half-confession had turned him from a capable individual into a blushing mess in less than a second.  You always had that effect on him, but it looked like your exhausted state was giving you a bit of an edge.

“Oh, sorry, I made it weird.  Anyway, do you think if I brewed my next coffee with Monster instead of water it would wake me up?   Because I’m still tired, and it isn’t fun.”

“I- you- I’m-”

“I think I might try it, honestly.”

“Ok, how about you don’t do that,”  Archie said, swooping in, literally and figuratively, to save the day, “Douxie, can you please get (Y/N)’s hand patched up?  It looks quite painful and they’re dripping blood onto the carpet.”

You were, in fact, dripping blood onto the carpet.  That wasn’t good, “Oh, that’s- I’m sorry.”

“Don’t fret, just go do something about that hand,” with that, Archie smacked Douxie upside the head in an attempt to snap him out of his flustered state.  It was super effective!

“Ahh, yeah.   C’mon, (Y/N), let’s,,, go,,, fix,,, that.”

“Ok,”  you stood, too tired to protest, and followed Douxie into the back of the bookstore, which was literally just his apartment.  

It was a nice place.  Very cozy, very him.  It made you want to curl up and take a nap, but to be fair, literally everything made you want to curl up and take a nap at the moment.  Regardless, his home made you feel warm and fuzzy on the inside and you never wanted to leave it.  Maybe it was the interior decorating, but you knew it was because your favourite person lived there.  What you didn’t know, or didn’t realize, was that you’d just spoken your entire thought process out loud and Douxie heard every word of it.  Once again, the boy was a blushing mess.  If you were awake enough to process things, you would have found it cute.  Or you’d be dead from embarrassment, that one is a bit of a toss-up.

Fighting through his flustered state, Douxie pulled you into the bathroom and collected a first aid kit from under the counter.  While he focused on getting things done, you curled into a ball in his bathtub.  For some reason, your exhausted brain decided that sitting on the edge of the bathtub simply did not Vibe™ but sitting inside the tub was better than nothing, and so you just,,, curled up there.  Douxie was only a little surprised to see you there.

“(Y/N)?”

“D’you remember that time on Friends when Winona Ryder played a closeted lesbian?  That was a fuckin’ trip, man.”

“(Y/N), darling-”

“That whole episode is just- it’s just strange.”

“(Y/N)-”

“Hehe, Stranger Things.”

“(Y/N), love, I need to see your hand.”

“Oh, fuck, yeah, I forgot.  Here,” you sat up, extending your hand out to the wizard.  He took it, sitting on the edge of the bathtub which was fine for him to do, I guess.  Not you though, you were stuck in bathtub jail for sleep deprivation crimes.

You squinted up at his face as he tended to the nasty scratch you’d given yourself.  You didn’t have the capacity to focus on what he was doing, so instead you focused on him.  He was pretty, as you’d said before, but that was always true.  At that exact moment, his brows were furrowed in concentration, his eyes concerned and his jaw set.  His hands were steadier than yours could ever hope to be, especially since you hadn’t been sleeping.  Overall, he looked kind of mad, so you sunk down into your bath-prison, silent and waiting for him to finish so you could get back to work.

Douxie was not mad at you.  He was upset that you hadn’t been sleeping, but he wasn’t mad.  He was just worried for your health.  Your wizard did not appreciate seeing you shaking and sleep-deprived.  He didn’t appreciate it when your current state led you to injure yourself, either.

He wrapped up your hand and gave it a small pat, “Done.  Now, come on, you’re taking a nap.”

His voice surprised you.  It was gentle, calm, not at all angry like you’d suspected.  You found yourself so lost in it that you didn’t realize what he’d said until he said your name, trying to snap you out of whatever haze you were in.

“Oh, wait, what?  No, shit, I have to get back to work-”

“No, you need sleep.”

“Sleep is for the weak, I need to go-” you stood and almost fell over.  You probably would have broken something if Douxie didn’t catch you.  You hadn’t exactly expected to end up in his arms today, and despite the heat rising in your face and neck, you were not complaining.

“(Y/N)-”

“I’m sorry, Douxie, I-”

“You need to sleep.  Please, (Y/N), don’t make me use a spell on you.”

You froze for a second before a smirk crept onto your face, “You wouldn’t.”

“I-”

“You wouldn’t use a spell on meeeeee-” the smirk grew into a full smile as you let yourself go limp, forcing him to move his hands to support you better and pull you closer to him.  Was that your plan?  Maybe.  Was it part of a second, bigger plan?  Also yes.

“You wanna bet?”

“Sure.”

“I-” and then he went silent.  There was a moment of tension where you just stared into each other’s eyes, holding your breath to see what the other person would do.  Your gaze fell to his lips as his fell to yours.  For that moment, your thoughts began to wander far out of your control.  Douxie’s mind was also running rampant but in a different direction.  You were right, he thought.  He couldn't use magic on you.  As far as he knew, you were a human.  Just a mortal being who crawled their way into his life and stayed there, improving the quality of it greatly.  If there was even the slightest chance that a spell may have negative side effects, which most sleep spells did, he wouldn’t dare risk it, especially not on you.  He sighed, tightening his grip on your waist, “You’re right.”

“What?”  Oop, plan going sideways, PLAN GOING SIDEWAYS!

“I’m- not going to use magic on you,” he helped you to stand, and moved to take a step back before you grabbed his hoodie and pulled him back to you, ignoring the sharp sting in your hand.

“Ok, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, hang on there wizard boy-” you took a moment to pull yourself out of the bathtub entirely, “You can’t give up that easily.”

“Wha-”

“Come onnnnnn, make it fun, make it exciting.  Put a spell on me or whatever, just-” you went quiet for a second, but for once you weren’t distracted.  Just quiet.  You had to face facts.  Your plan had failed, and now you had nothing but the truth.

“(Y/N)?”

“Just make my brain stop.  For just two seconds.”

“What?”

“Please.  I’m running on a motor and I can’t stop myself.  I haven’t slept and I have no choice in the matter.”

“(Y/N)-”

“Look, just, take away my free-will if you have to.  Knock me out, magic or otherwise, I just want five seconds where I’m not on hyperdrive,” you were standing on your own now, though Douxie’s arms were still wrapped around you and you hadn’t let go of his hoodie, “Please.”

The bathroom was silent for a minute.  It took that long for Douxie to process what you’d just said.  You feared, for that moment, that you’d said too much.  You hadn't.  Not to him, anyway.

“Come on.”

“What?”

“Come on,” he said, picking you up, effortlessly sweeping you off your feet.

“Wait, what!?” your voice was slightly more frantic, surprise lacing through your words.

“There’s more than one way to get a person to sleep.”

“Oh-?”

He didn’t respond to your question, instead, he carried you out the door and into what you could only assume was his room.  You had no choice but to wrap your arms around his neck and cling to him for dear life until he set you down on the bed.

“Stay here, okay?  I’m going to make you some tea-”

“Wait!” you stopped him, grabbing his wrist as he turned to leave, “I’m… I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry, my darling,” he sat in front of you on the bed, “You just need to get some sleep, okay?”

“But what about-”

“I’ll cover your shift, you don’t need to worry.”

“I-”

“Just rest, for now, love.  Please.”

“Ok,” your words were a whisper, something that Douxie could only just hear.  The next thing though, he didn’t have to strain to hear at all, “Yeah.  I meant what I said earlier, by the way.  You’re so pretty, it isn’t fair.”

He laughed at this, at you, finally seeing some humour in your shenanigans.  He relaxed now knowing that you may actually get some much-needed rest.  He stood, kissing your forehead and tracing the side of your face with a hand, rough from guitar strings and 900 years of sweeping.

“Worry not, love, you’re pretty too.”

“Hey, wait-”

“Don’t ‘hey, wait,’ me.  You are.  Now lie down, I’ll be back in a second.”

A smile crept onto your face as you followed orders.  Your emo wizard man thought you were pretty.  And he cared enough about you to let you sleep during work hours, in his home, no less.  You let yourself relax into the bed, grinning once again.  It smelled like him, like thyme and peppermint, lemongrass and sleep.  It was nice, comforting.  You could only vaguely think of Douxie as your brain finally took a fuckin breather.  It was everything you needed, honestly.

By the time Douxie came back, you were long gone, lost to your dreams and finally asleep.  He sighed a smile that matched yours on his face.  He placed the cup of tea on the bedside table before grabbing a blanket out of his closet and draping it over you.  You looked so peaceful.  Good.  You deserved some peace every now and then.

He took the cup and left you, brushing a strand of hair out of your eyes as he did.  After making his exit, he placed the still-hot tea on the counter, disregarding it for now before returning to the bookshop.

“How are they?”  his familiar asked, tail twisting in concern.

He gave a final fond look at the door before returning to business, “They’re just resting.”  And for once, you were.

[whumpiary]

disaster lads and co. - timeline

CURRENTLY BEING EDITED AND THUS, IN SCIENTIFIC TERMS, A SCHAMOZZLE 

Everything is more or less in chronological order.  I’ve tried to block them into “read these together” chunks as well, but almost all of it can be more or less read as stand alone. Enjoy!

BERGEN ESTATE

the christopher drabbles / cassius backstory. general warnings for intimate whumper, dubcon, noncon.

perfection Christopher explains one of his personal philosophies to his new charge (not Cassius)

which of them made you a king? Christopher wants to impress a guest. Cass is bad at obeying orders.

i’m so hungry “I know, darling boy, that’s by design” Cass would do a lot for a meal right now.

it must be really nice being the favourite one of christopher’s other charges has a lot to say about cass’ special treatment

can you really blame me? “Christopher soaks it in, eyes raking slowly and deliciously over what is his.” just a lazy Sunday morning at Bergen Estate

because I wanted to Cassius wakes up in Christopher’s room with very little memory of the night before

counting strikes - continued directly from above Cassius was rude, Christopher teaches him some manners at the end of a belt.

THE FACILITY

any drabbles including ellie or tucker, cass’ “ace” years, and the beginning of disaster lads’ relationship  friendship  knowing eachother. 

cass + tucker

don’t be a brat Cass gets a super caring and affectionate visit from a very important friend colleague work-adjacent associate after getting stabbed. [content warning: self-surgery mention}

the blindfold drabble Tucker has an Actuating job he needs Cass to do. The clients have asked for confidentiality.

assets & acquisitions Tucker and Cass are on-site at a hotel to do a job. Unfortunately it’s a hotel Christopher has just bought. Panic attacks and manipulative care-taking.

what have you gone and done to yourself now? Tucker has to babysit a delirious Cass while he… sobers up?

the warmth never comes Cass and a brief Tucker cameo. Just your everyday near-death experience.

beg. Tucker has a terrible day and it has to be somebody’s fault.

josiah + ellie

[never-ending content warnings for spousal abuse, domestic violence, gaslighting, emotional manipulation, etc]

i would do anything: the branding drabble A time-jumpy summary of Ellie and Josiah being branded with the bonding mark 

it’s worth it: the bond drabble The “Josiah accidentally sells his soul to the woman he loves” drabble. Time-jumpy summary of Ellie and Josiah using the bond (allowing one partner to transfer pain/injuries to another at will)

of no significance Josiah overhears a conversation he’s not meant to between Ellie and a potential employer about the mark, their bond, and their relationship.

the bathtub drabble Josiah comes home late and Ellie is thoroughly unimpressed. A fill for BTHB “disproportionate retribution”.

josiah + cass

surgical precision The disaster lads meet in the way only the disaster lads could. Josiah walks in on a stranger half-way through stitching up a stab wound. I wonder who?

shaking hands Cass thinks about that guy who helped stitch him up and definitely doesn’t start low-key stalking him.

cass being a dumpster fire

tell me something Cass just came out here for a good time and he’s honestly feeling so pissed off that someone he’s been sleeping with for two months wants to get even vaguely emotionally intimate right now

bad sex Bade date. Bad dirty talk. Questionable use of Cass’ powers. Even more questionable use of “sex” to “cope”

POST FACILITY

over the span of approximately 10-12 months

just some trashy sci-fi Cass is having a bad day. Josiah’s having a good one. Reading out loud, near-cuddles on the couch and very, very fuck thoughts and feelings

bad dreams Josiah has a nightmare about Ellie. Lou eavesdrops before waking him.

i’m not gonna say that Cassius comes home drunk, high, and with blood on his shirt. Josiah is unlucky enough to be awake and meet him in the hall

THE MISSING YEAR

thusly named because Cass is… uh… Missing. amongst other reasons

just a coffee thanks Josiah tries exerting his independence again for the first time since The Thing. it doesn’t go great.

the married caretakers set up their internet That’s it. That’s the drabble. Lou and Mal domestic fluff

“i’m not angry” Studies in when it’s healthy to walk away from anger and when it isn’t

biting the hand that heals you A neighbourhood dog that Josiah dislikes gets injured and he cares for it. Lots of introspection about who Josiah is and how he deals with being a caretaker vs being used

THE PRESENT

the streets were deep and went forever on Cassius collapses at Josiah’s door, after being missing for over a year

“idiot. i didn’t think i’d have to tie you down” Cass wakes up at Josiah’s place. Panic attacks and rough care-taking ensue.

so fucking relieved Josiah internally melting down over the fact Cass is back while Cass sleeps

easy on the stomach Cass manages to stay conscious for longer than five minutes. Josiah cooks lunch. They… uh… discuss what happened between them and it doesn’t end well

like coming out of freezing water Josiah and Cass attempt to have another discussion about their feelings. Josiah still can’t decide if he wants to kill Cass or kiss him. 

not hungry  Josiah tries to give Cass some lunch. It doesn’t go well.

for now, it’s enough Josiah tries to give Cass some lunch (again). It actually goes surprisingly well.

back to our regularly scheduled bullshit Josiah comes home to an upturned house, an upturned Cass, and this feels very disappointingly familiar. It isn’t.

definitely not what he was expecting + hipster with a medical degree Josiah calls a friend to help out Cass. Meet Mal. 

5 feet of leather-clad fury What’s Josiah doing while Cass is getting a check-up I hear you ask? Calming a hurricane with tea and yelling. You know. Josiah stuff. Meet Lou.

[aquarianlights]

OKAY FINALLY....HERE IS WHAT HAS BEEN GOING ON. I’M SORRY THIS IS SO LONG AND SO LATE. FUCK.

((C/Ped this from a FB post, so there may be a few...not understandable things here, but for the most part, you'll get what I'm saying. Tried to edit it to fit a generalized linguistic standard, so to speak. Idk. I tried. Here you go.))

OKAY Now that I'm finally not entirely exhausted and am not ready to jump off a bridge (yet), I am gonna fucking type this up coz everyone is asking me what's going on and I can't keep up with y'all. Damn. Okay, so. . .

The past two weeks have been fucking...awful. Literally the worst two weeks of my life I had ever had. It began with me doing something VERY illegal and my mom figuring it out when I didn't think it would happen the way it did. In fact, for someone who has a catastrophic thinking problem, I'm surprised this scenario did not enter my mind at any moment.

It was the moment I said "Wow. I really am a drug addict." I mean, I've known I was an addict for literally years but after what I did, I just couldn't even...I mean, this is something I could have gone to prison for life or double life for. So it kinda just...woke me up and I was like "fuck" but I kept going anyways and then I ran out of pills and everything else and didn't know what to do. . . which is precisely the moment my mom had found out what I had done.

Bad timing.

So she blocks me in the basement with her car so that I can't use my car. And it's been YEARS of me saying to my father "Can I PLEASE buy my car from you so I have legal ownership?" Every day. . .same response. . . "Yeah, of course! Just let me get around to it." Like...this goes on for like...since maybe 2013? 4ish years later...my mom starts holding it over my head. "The car isn't even legally yours so if you take it anywhere, I will just call the police and tell them you stole it." Well I couldn't anyways because she blocked me in with her car. The only way I could have driven it was directly off the mountain cliff and over the edge, which I was considering, but felt too scared that I might hurt an animal in the process since it's all forest and trees and such where I am and our neighbours down the road have free-roam dogs. So despite the fact I would have LOVED to have just gunned the accelerator off the edge of that cliff, I didn't.

Then they barricade me in my room and won't let me out. This isn't unusual. Normally they turn off the power to the basement and leave me down there. But this time they actually barricaded me in the ROOM and not just the basement. I had no water and no access to water. Or anything else. And then my mom would come pounding on my door and screaming and at one point she had my dad hold me down while she took every single one of my medications, including the most important one, my mood stabilizer, and ripped them out of my hands. So after that, I was just screaming at the top of my lungs and pulling my hair out and banging my head against the wall remembering "Only the head has pain receptors. The brain doesn't." Thinking maybe if I could just bash my skull in to the point of brains, then I wouldn't feel anything and could physically rip my brain out by pieces since I wouldn't be able to feel anything. But then my parents came downstairs obviously coz of the noise of me banging my head against the wall as hard as I could and I ran and pushed the couch in my room against the door and pushed the table against that and pushed the bed against that. Which ...minus a small triangular bureau thing by my bed, that's all the furniture in my room.

So...I couldn't get out or in for days. This was during a period of which my dad had just gotten out of the geriatric ward and my mom was dealing with his new weird habits and medication reactions. So obvs, I mean, I'M the one who barricaded myself in. Why should they deal with me? I get that.

I just...pulled the barricade out from my side and pushed on the other side for what felt like hours until it gave out. I grabbed my bag, put my laptop and notepad for school in it, chargers, phone, and left.

Now. . .if you've ever been up my mountain, you'll know it's a 10 minute DRIVE up there. Nah, fam, I walked all that. And then walked more...and more...and more...and there was no signal...anywhere...Idk how long I walked. But I was wearing odd clothing because nothing was clean obviously. I was wearing a sweater with nothing underneath and shorts and plaid shoes and I had lost my glasses so I didn't even have those. And I ended up somewhere on this road...Idk how far I went but I kept checking for service to text any friend to see if they would let me couch hop for one or two nights. But no. No signal. So I started walking back.

It was too hot. I laid down on the very edge of the pavement of this tiny, windy, backroad and I remember looking up at the trees and seeing the sun shine through the leaves and just...being in awe of the beauty. I went to take a picture of it with my phone but then I blacked out.

Somewhere during this time, a car almost hit me and left skid marks on the road which the police pointed out later. Idk if I was awake for that or not. But then I woke up to this really sweet mom and she had her van stopped beside me and she was holding me and shaking me and her little ...gradeschooler(??) age kid was like screaming at her like "IS HE ALIVE!?" or something. I'm not entirely sure what. Somewhere during that time, local 911 dispatch was called from my phone. Maybe I did it. Maybe she did. Idk. But local 911 dispatch works even when you don't have service, so. . .thank god for that? I guess. Maybe not. It probably would have been better if I had just been hit by a car and died, honestly.

Legit 3 ambulances and 1 cop car showed up. I was withdrawing really, really badly and I hadn't had any water in literal days and I obviously hadn't eaten in even longer than that. I was super dehydrated and malnourished and overexhausted, yet my stats were okay. Like, everything like my BP and temp and pulse checked out. My BP is chronically low and lowered even more by the BP med I take for migraines so it's obvious that it was a "little high, but normal". And my temp was not too high. And my pulse wasn't thready, which I had already checked myself to make sure I could just go to sleep on the road and wake up later after resting. The EMT's said I could go with them or not. And the cop said "You're 25. If you wanna walk away from me right now and keep walking down that road and go to sleep on the side of the road, I can't stop you. But by the skid marks on the road here (like I mentioned), I'm pretty sure you're going to get hit by a car. So..." I mean, well, if that's not my damn white privilege at its finest... But, anyways, I said "Yeah, y'know what, I'm just gonna keep walking." Then the cop pulls me aside and is like "No. I really don't think you should." And one of the EMTs knew my mom from when she worked at the same hospital he worked at and had been up to our house plenty of times. So he drove up to her house and brought her back because, yknow...no service. And I told the police and EMTs to just...lemme go from there. I didn't want police involved. Coz, as the officer said, "You're 25. You make your own decisions at this point in life." So I did.

I adamantly told my mother I wasn't going back with her and she was about to scream at me but then I threw up blood. Just...pure blood. And idk how I got to Asheville Memorial Trauma Center, but I did. They had a helipad. It was like being in a Grey's Anatomy episode coz they're a level 1 trauma center. Omg. So cool. They had all this fancy equipment like that green vein scan thingy where you run it over the AC or the hand and it just shows you where the veins are so you don't have to feel for them. It was fascinating.

I got stuck maybe 8 times, though. For blood draws and such. Coz my veins are small and they roll and I'm a very hard stick.

I don't remember much from the time I was there but we didn't leave until like...idk, idr, maybe 4am? We got home around 6am. Dad had locked us out of the house. The key was in view on the inside from the window and I was delirious and laughing while my mom was fuming angry and screaming for my dad to wake up and pounding on the door.

Something happened between this that I don't remember. Lots of black-out periods, obvs.

I slept. I withdrew. Hard. Lots of pain. This is day 5 of totally nothing and there's STILL lots of pain. Then the same thing happened. My mom barricaded my car in and took my meds from me and locked me in the basement. So I said...fuck it....and lied and said I had friends to stay with, even though I hadn't even contacted anyone at this point yet. Coz I figured that would make her let me leave if she knew a friend was involved. And she still wouldn't let me out unless I gave a full name, address, and telephone number. She kept saying this was all for "my safety". I couldn't handle it. I can't handle being in that house anyways. Anyone with depression will know that environment affects your moods VERY highly. So I was not only withdrawing from opiates, benzos, ambien, a BP med for migraines, but also cold turkey from my mood stabilizer. Like, I'm surprised I didn't die. I wish I would have. I have never been in so much pure physical and mental agony in my life.

I don't remember much of the next few days. And I don't remember how we came to an agreement, but my mom gave me my meds back and let me out and let me take my car. I was crying and screaming so hard because she told me if I didn't come home and stay home, she was going to take my dog to a kill shelter. And there was nothing I could do.

I went down somewhere in town on a backroad where no one would find me in the pure dark and called my old therapist. He recommended several good 7-day detox programs for me that also handle psych issues. Because rehabs won't take me due to my psych issues because they don't have the capability to handle psych medications.

I had somehow convinced my mom to let me sleep in my car that night. She had been screaming about how "Human beings DO NOT live in cars, Killian!" And such nonsense that typical cis white baby boomers babble about. I don't remember much of that night. But I ended up in a hotel somehow. Where I have been for the past few days. I went to volunteer, got that job, was about to go scrub shopping with my mom when the withdrawals just got too intense and I thought "My doctor is a former addict. Like. Everyone knows this. He SHOULD help me. Right?" Wrong.

We went to my doctor and he was literally screaming at me and pointing his pen in my face saying he wasn't going to be manipulated by a bipolar drug addict anymore. And I have NEVER been diagnosed bipolar. Ever. That has never come up even once except with him. I am most definitely NOT bipolar. And when I said that, he's like screaming at me that I'm definitely bipolar and that he's cutting me off of everything except my mood stabilizer and that I need to get in with a psychiatrist if I want my benzos back, which are what I need, and a neurologist if I want my BP meds back, and where the hell I'm going to find Ambien to sleep? Fuck.

AND THEN He starts yelling about how he's never had a case of costochondritis in his 30-something years of being a doctor and that I am lying about it. But my mom was in the room and she's like quietly shaking her head. Because I have been diagnosed three times now with costo. It's supposed to be short term. But mine is long term and that's where it gets confusing because costo has never really lasted this long in many people in the entire world so far. And he just screams at me that it's all psychological and that I have too many problems and that I'm never going to make it through school, so why am I even trying, and then says that I am probably going to be living in a state mental institution by the age of 30 or less.

I just walked out at this point. Thank god I had my car. I drove off. Drove. For a while. Got lost. Stopped at a rest stop and texted my platonic soul mate. I was ready to drive to New Orleans right then without anything at all. But I calmed down a bit after popping one of the few ativan or valium (Idr) I have left and came up with a better plan because even my therapist said "You're being dismissive of my help. I don't think you want my help. This is not going to end well." But no. I don't even care anymore. I'm going to get through this.

Got set up in a very cheap hotel near my volunteer shelter for 3 days to sort things out and come up with a plan. So I have been wracking my brain and doing SO much research and talking to so many friends about potential living arrangements. But nothing came up. I need to be in a city or heavily populated suburb because I cannot HANDLE being isolated and I cannot handle living by myself either.

So best friend and I eventually came up with a plan. Thank god her roommates are such wonderful people. I love them both so much.

The Tech school I can AFFORD to get into is in Asheville. And I want more hands on experience than the online world is giving me. I want to be able to dissect things and do actual venipuncture restraint positions on dogs bigger than me and I want to do all these things PHYSICALLY. I want HANDS-ON experience and I just...can't get a shadowing position in such a small town.

Problem being, if I leave NC for over a month, I lose my disability, SSI, EBT, and Medicaid. I could do without disability, SSI, and EBT...but I cannot afford my medications without Medicaid. So I'm not sure what I'm going to do while going to school because I only get about 650ish a month from my disability and about 50 from my SSI and 74 on my EBT which my parents use because I really don't eat coz of my anorexia and depression and anxiety combo. But my Medicaid pushes meds that are normally around 200-300 dollars out of pocket, even with discounts like GoodRx, pushes them all the way down to 3 dollars a piece. And my mood stabilizer is especially pricey. So Idk what I'm gonna do when I move in with someone in Asheville coz I will want to be focusing on school and shadowing/interning and volunteering and not have to worry about working, but then. . .I want to work, too. But only at a vet's office or somewhere that deals with medical things. I'm literally 1 class away from getting my vet transfer degree. But do you know why I started over from scratch? Because I can't handle the speech class which is the last and only class I need AND because this degree, albeit a fully accredited AA, is nothing more than a "Here. You have taken all the gen ed classes and a million extracurriculars and now you can use this degree to get into a vet tech school!" Which, I mean, is great, because I REALLY want to get into North Carolina Univeristy in Raleigh. . .that would be my ideal school for vet tech training in this state (not my ideal state, obvs...I hate the south and I want to live in Massachusetts, but it's too expensive). But. . .the in-state tuition is above 10k. I highly doubt any sort of financial aid would cover all of that, even with Pell Grants.

Yes, I realize that becoming a tech and then going for the full vet surgeon licensing is gonna put me in debt until long after I die and that I'm going to be paying back literal millions of dollars worth of loans for the rest of my life and beyond. But why go to a school like that for 10k when they have the same hands-on program at a fully accredited community college? I never even realized how much of a difference the community college price versus university price was. . .because I've had Florida Pre-Paid this whole time and haven't had to pay anything big yet and right now my loan paybacks are at about 1k-2k at the most. I just...would uh...to add a 10k on top of that... (for one semester)...and then another 10k (for one more semester)...then two more 10k's for the last two semesters....I don't know if I could do all that. And then I have to PAY to take three different tests and if I fail even one, all that training was for nothing. And of course, applications and records and SAT score retrieval all cost money, too. AND THIS IS JUST FOR TECH SCHOOL. NOT EVEN FULL VET LICENSING AND SURGICAL LICENSING. So despite NC State and Raleigh being my dream in this state. . .it's just not. . .I don't think it's a wise decision. So I'm aiming for Asheville.

Now. . .all my disability money and SSI will be going to rent and utilities and I'm totally willing to share my EBT with whatever roommate I end up with, but I will lose ALL of that if I start any kind of job. Even a min wage retail job. And I'm fine with that. I will work till it kills me to make rent and utilities and such. But it's the FUCKING MEDICAID. If I start working, I lose my Medicaid, too. ...and I can't afford my meds without it. So...I'm not sure what to do here. I don't have credit yet but if I were to GET a credit card and gain credit, it would immediately be awful because of all my medical debt and there's no coming back from that coz I just can't do it in this economy. Which is exactly why I have put off getting any sort of credit. For...my entire adult life.

But right now...my plan is...go to New Orleans with my three good friends. Stay there for 2 weeks-month tops, which they said is totally fine and I'm completely welcome. Not like we haven't done this before in opposite situations anyways. Lmao. We help each other as much as we can. Next step? Gain roommate in Asheville through several roommate matching sites I found. Move there. THEN work on getting into the college I want and transferring my online credits and all the credits from the two other colleges I'm in and transferring my SAT scores whilst attempting to find an internship or shadowing position. And after that? I'm really not sure. I don't have a plan from there. But my mom agreed to keep my double coat dog brushed, cleaned, updated on his shots, fed properly like I feed him (NO HUMAN FOOD DAMNIT), bathed, nails clipped, butt shaved, and get the anesthesia dentistry done he needs for the next 2 years while I get my life in order. It's going to literally kill me to be away from him like that. But she said if I am not "stable to her liking" in 2 years, she will put him in a kill shelter. So not only do I WANT to do this, I HAVE to do this. Because if that happened. . .that would be the absolute last straw at any chance I would have of recovery. That dog is my life. Hell, I have his name tattooed on my wrist. I spend every waking second with him and even these couple weeks of in and out of consciousness was hell without him. I was worried about him every goddamn second and I could hear him borking and howling upstairs while I was barricaded downstairs and it would just kill me. It was like I could physically feel my heart being stabbed.

Annnd....Idk how I'm going to find a roommate that will take in an asexual, polyamorous, panromantic, nerdy recluse like me with questionable future financial stability and no credit. But even if I have to live in my car to get through school, find a place, and get my dog with me, I'll do it. I'm HOPING I will find a roommate that likes me AND a vicious little (read: very large) neurotic pomeranian in tech school. Someone who ALSO has a dog or AT LEAST a cat so that my dog will not be lonely while I am gone all day. I don't want to have to take him in with me alone and then be gone literally all day and only see him for 2 seconds before falling asleep and getting the only interaction with him possible at feeding time and to briefly take him out to go potty. I don't want that for him. He needs more. He deserves more. At least, leaving him with my mom and dad, he will be safe and taken care of and will have his "sister" and the cats to play with and he can bork to his hearts content. And my dad is retired and my mom only works 4 days a week, so he will be walked every day and taken out appropriately and I made them sign a document stating they would do this for 2 years.

So...tomorrow...I am scouring Asheville, every surrounding town within a 15 mile radius, and one within a 20 mile radius, to see what everything looks like in person and make sure the areas are diversified and active and are NOT a small town or even close to a regular sized town, but much bigger and much more diversified than a goddamn southern town with a bunch of white deer hunting orange overlord voters and then I'm gonna make it back in time for the Discovery premiere (Trekkie thing) coz it will be legendary. Like...Kirk's premiere, kinda legendary. And then I'm gonna pack after that, cuddle with my dog all night, and...leave for New Orleans whenever I wake up if I manage to sleep. Or leave when I finally decide "Fuck it, I can't stay in bed any longer." And I'll say goodbye to my dog.....and...cry..a lot...and hug him and kiss him and take tons of pictures and oh god now I'm crying.

That's all just the basics, though. There has been a lot of other less major stuff going on that's getting to me but. . .I will be so goddamn happy to see my three friends that are taking me in that I think I'm gonna cry good tears when I get there.

It’s really hard to think straight when you’re withdrawing AND the most impulsive person in the world.

Just gotta say...I thought dealing with generalized anxiety without meds was hard. Nah...dealing with panic disorder without meds is impossible. I can't fucking do anything without having a mostly physical style panic attack every 2 goddamn seconds. Feels worse than withdrawals, honestly. I have a couple benzos left...but literally only like 2 ativan and maybe 5 valium? So...trying to save those for like...really hard moments like the first day of an internship or something. So I have a plan about that, too, and Idk if it’s going to work, but I am DONE writing right now.

THANK YOU GOODNIGHT.