#like mental health is so strange and uncontrollable at times so it freaks me out that those symtoms could randomly happen again

[ghostlyfeelings]

sometimes i give myself extreme anxiety by remembering random times in my life where my mental health was at all time lows and start freaking out about it happening again. im guessing this is normal?

[midday0nightmares]

17 - like normal.

previous chapter changes (m).

m.list.

warnings: this series contains themes of yandere\mafia, blood, mental health.

author note: this is pure fiction and it is not intended to romanticize any of the situations mentioned bellow.

 After that incident thing have started to change, they sat you down and  they promised changes, you have asked for your own room but since there wasn’t any spare rooms they have agreed to let you use the living room since nobody’s visits them anyway, they have also agreed not to be forceful with you in sexual terms an return you have to cooperate, other than that the same rule still applies, no leaving without permission, no contacting anyone outside this apartment.

One day jeno come back with a gift, a pair of shoes for you, it was a red converse, you were so happy that you leaped in his arms thanking him, jaemin have bought you a mattress and you’ve picked a spot for it in the living room, and after your wound healed and you regained your strength they took you to the store and they let you pick whatever you wanted, pillows, a cute bedside light, shampoo and conditioner, towels, coffee cup, nail polish, makeup, and all the snacks you wanted.. unfortunately the store didn’t sell any clothes but it’s ok, you didn’t mind waiting, you walked out of the store skipping with excitement, you finally started to feel alive, like you actually exist.

When you got back, jaemin helped you arrange your new belongings, he cleared a shelf for you in his bathroom, he arranged them for you, you couldn’t stop smiling all day to the point where your cheeks were sore, jaemin was in an awe with how he could make you this happy with simple things, he couldn’t resist the urge to squeeze you in his arms eliciting a delighted squeal out of you.

Jeno enrolled you in an online collage, after he let you chose what you wanted to major in and paid the full tuition, he got you your textbooks, pens and note pads. in your previous life, you wouldn’t have dreamed of completing your education in due to your family low income. And they didn’t stop here, they got you a gaming console for you when you feel bored, while jeno focused more on the practical side of your needs, jaemin focussed on what would make you happy, he got you pretty pajama sets, fluffy slippers, plushies. 

You filled the bathtub and threw in a vanilla scented bath bomb and you lite your new scented candle, you sat in the warm water enjoying your pampering session, you laid back and sigh in content feeling your muscles relax in warm waters, it took a while before jaemin barged through the door without knocking, your hand came to cover your upper half. “it’s nothing I didn’t see before” he laughed at his insensitive comment but dropped the smile when he noticed your stiff face.you remains silent as he cleared his throat and opened the cabinet, awkwardly looking for something before walking out but he didn’t close the door all the way leaving it slightly open, something about his behavior made you wary so you decided to end your bath and get dressed.

 When you walked out he was laying on his bed mindlessly scrolling through his phone, you went to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea, you open the cabinet looking for your brand new cup, you spot it on the highest shelf, you sighed and you stood on you tiptoes stretching your arm as far as you can, you struggle to reach it before you feel a presence behind you, his body pressed against your back side, his hand grabs the cup putting it down on the counter in front of you, he doesn’t move and keeps hovering close to you. “here you go” Jamin whispers in a low voice, involuntary shiver runs down your spine and you move away from him, his actions freaking you out, something about him seems off. 

You avert your gaze back to your cup and continue making your tea, he leans closer to you and sniffs your damp hair, “no thank you?” He asks you but you ignore him taking your hot drink and scramble away from him, your heart’s beating fast, the sweet but creepy gesture confusing you, you’ve never had a boyfriend or any close guys friends so you don’t know what qualify as normal, and what qualify as creepy, you can blame your traumatized perception for the confusion. 

The weekend was spent in peace, other than jaemin’s strange behavior, there’s nothing for you to complain about. 

Jeno suggested to try the new gaming console and challenged you to a game, the loser would have to do the dishes for the day, you agreed with much confidence that you will win, the game begins and your fiery competitiveness flare up, you both shamelessly cheat but you’er still winning before he snatches the controller out of your hands and beats you to the finish line making him the winner of the first round.. you shout at him and wrestle him for the controller while demanding a rematch, but something on his inner forearm catches your attentions, something you never seen before, a tattoo.

 you halt your attack and grab his arm to get a closer look before asking, “you have a tattoo? since when?” You pointed them out, “since always dummy” his eyes disappear behind his cheeks forming small crescents.

the tattoos looked odd, they were three vertical lines with one horizontal line crossing them on his left arm, and on his right arm there was two lines one of them looks recent, you frowned “what do they mean?” He shrugged, your fingers tracing the small lines, they must mean something, they look too plain for it to be decoration ,and they looked purposeful, and unlike jaemin’s interact back tattoos, these look unprofessionally done, adding to jeno’s mystery.

“did you do it yourself?” You realize you were being noisy but he doesn’t seems to mind, he hums. You still curios so you ask “did it hurt?” He pretends to thinks about it before he answer “mm not really, now let me beat your ass again”, you returned to your game this time you managed to win the next round.

After dinner you helped him with dishes, and they went to their rooms after wishing you a good night, you turned off the lights and made yourself comfortable in your mock bed, ready for slumber to take you away to dreamland, your eyes slowly close as the room around you dims until it disappear.

A warm sensation flows though you, your mind focuses on it as it gets warmer and warmer, it localize in one spot, in between your legs, a faint strokes of warmth generating a pool of wetness, the pleasure intensifies and you relaxes your legs to allow the warm strokes to reach deeper, your hands reach down to land on soft hair, you grip on it as a moan erupts from you, you grind your hips to aid the aching need, you look down and you’er er met with jaemin’s face in between your thighs, his jet black eyes watching you.

you jolt awake in horror, your mouth is dry as you pant, you tell yourself that it was just a dream, you close your eyes for a minute to calm your breathing, once you’ve calmed down your mind wonders to when he pressed himself to you earlier, his muscular body, his deep voice, his board chest and strong arms.. the pulse between your legs becomes too loud for you to fall back to sleep, your hands roam your body imaging if they were his, reality mixes with dreams, and in your disoriented state you reach down under your panties to be met with a mess of sticky wetness, your fingers slide with ease as your rub your folds, your breathing heaves as you dip your fingers inside your needy cunt, your eyes roll back as you moan his name, you desperately chase your release, pumping faster until you tip over the edge, your walls convulse uncontrollably as you cum hard, euphoric waves fill you, you bask in it while it lasts, your clouded mind clears up and you realize what you just did, your cheeks flaming in embarrassment, this is wrong, you shouldn’t think of him like this.

[i-know-you-can]

Domesticity - Chapter 6 - A bad day

Summary: A series of overly sappy and fluffy domestic one shots set a couple of years after season 1. Canon compliant until the end of season 1, if the alternative ending with Jughead moving in with the Coopers actually happened.

AKA Betty and Jughead stood the test of time and now they’re starting a new chapter of their life

Rated: T

Chapters: 6/?

A/N: Did anyone miss this story? I know it was supposed to be a side project but it kinda became my main project so I feel bad for sitting on this chapter for a while. But you know how it is when things get busy. I hope you enjoy :)

read on AO3

read on fanfiction.net

“Hey, Betts, how was your…” Jughead greets Betty from the couch when he hears the front door opening, but the original question gets stuck in his throat the moment he sees her. “What's wrong?” Jughead asks in alarm when he sees the tears staining his wife's face as she enters the apartment. He's by her side in an instant, his eyes searching hers with concern, horror scenarios entering his mind. “What happened?” He runs his gaze over her multiple times and breathes a sigh of relief once he’s sure she’s not physically hurt.

“It's nothing. It's stupid.” She tries to brush it off. She had been fighting tears successfully for hours, but the moment she got into the elevator up to their apartment she could no longer hold them in. Betty spent several minutes trying to compose herself before coming inside, not wanting to worry Jughead, but despite her attempt he sees right through her and she breaks down in sobs as he pulls her into a hug.

“It's not stupid if it made you cry,” he whispers into her hair and guides her towards the sofa, pulling her down with him and tucking her into his side, his arms firmly wrapped around her thin frame. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I just... had a terrible day. At work.” She sobs into Jughead's shirt, feeling stupid for overreacting to something that most people probably deal with daily. But Betty Cooper has always been too hard on herself. And even though she's Betty Jones now, that hasn't changed. “The editor in chief told me I need to scrape the whole article I’ve been working on for a week, because it doesn't fit the theme.” She puts air quotes around the last three words, trying to dry the tears off her face with the back of her hand, but they keep falling down quicker than she manages to wipe them off. “And then when I tried to pitch some of my ideas to her, she said I might be in over my head and should leave that to more experienced editors.” Her voice wavers and she breaks out into another wave of sobs. She spent the whole day fighting tears, not wanting to give her boss another reason to criticize her, but now in Jughead’s arms she’s unable to stop.

Jughead listens to his wife intently as he rubs circles on her back, willing her to calm down. It breaks his heart to see her cry, especially when he can't fix whatever is bothering her. “Betty, baby,” he says, gently stroking her face, making her look up. “You're so smart and wonderful and passionate about your job. Don't let them bring you down because they're not willing to see it.”

“I don't even know what I'm doing wrong.” She hiccups. “It's like nothing I write or come up with is good enough for them. They keep treating me like a child. Like I don't know anything. And I'm not allowed to do anything. Not allowed to learn.” Betty's breathing getting shallow, her heart beating faster than it should and she's sure she's diving head first into a panic attack. She hasn't had one in months and an optimistic part of her hoped that being done with full time education would only make them less frequent. Little did she know that starting her first proper job would pull her right back into feeling stressed, worthless and like she doesn’t belong there and has no control over any of it. The very things that have always been causing her anxiety.

Jughead feels Betty stiffen in his arms, the sound of her quiet sobs replaced by shallow breaths and he knows what's going on well before he sees the panicked look in her eyes. “Betts,” he says gently, taking her hands into his and pressing them against his chest. “Follow my breathing. Slowly in an out, okay?” Betty nods, trying to follow the rising and falling of his chest, imitating the action herself. She can hear Jughead talking to her in a calm steady voice but she doesn’t register any of it as the world around her becomes a blur, the tears running down freely as she desperately tries to breathe. She's not sure how much time has passed, could've been seconds or hours, but eventually she feels the panic subside, the uncontrollable energy inside her body suddenly replaced by exhaustion.

“Do you need me to do anything?” Jughead asks quietly once he feels her body relax a little. All he wants to do is hug her and shield her from the whole world, making sure nothing ever hurts her again. But he has seen this happen enough times to know it's better to ask and not assume Betty's needs.

“Can you just... hold me?” she whispers and Jughead pulls her closer again, letting her head rest on his chest.

“Always.” He smiles as he presses a soft kiss to her hair and she wraps her arms around his torso, snuggling as close to him as possible and falling asleep within seconds.

 ---

“Oh, honey, I'm flattered but you didn't have to,” Jughead says with a grin as he points to the bouquet of flowers in Betty's hands, glad to see that today there are no tears staining her cheeks.

“Then it's good I didn't.” She smirks, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling out a vase, filling it with water and putting the flowers in, wondering what would be the best place for them. “I saw these on the way home and thought I could treat myself to something pretty.”

“Is this a subtle way of telling me I should buy you flowers more often?” Jughead cocks his eyebrows in question and Betty giggles.

“No. But feel free to do that any time. It certainly won't make me mad.” She eventually decides to set the vase on the coffee table before she walks back to the kitchen area and wraps her arms around Jughead's waist, peaking over his shoulder as he stirs something on the stove. “What are you making? It smells amazing.”

“Spanish style chicken with tomato sauce,” he answers simply, pouring some spices into the pot before resuming to stirring it vigorously.

“Ah, the only meal my mom refused to teach me.” Betty laughs and hauls herself on top of the kitchen counter next to Jughead, watching him intently. There is something about men in aprons that makes her hot and tingly. Or perhaps it's just Jughead.

“She said there should be something only I can cook in our household, so I can feel needed or something.” He shrugs, not quite sure what Alice's intention was, but he appreciates she imposed some of her cooking knowledge on him. While living with his parents, they often had to resort to frozen ready-to-cook meals or TV dinners. After moving in with the Coopers, he found out that home cooked meals didn't require spending half of your paycheck and that cooking a meal from scratch felt so much more rewarding. So, when Alice offered to teach him and Betty how to cook some basic meals before they went off to college, he was more than eager to learn.

“My mom has a strange way of thinking.”

“Yeah,” Jughead chuckles, puts the lid on the pot and wipes his hands on his apron, going through the steps once again in his mind to make sure the meal will turn out the way it's supposed to. “How was the session? Feeling any better today?” he asks placing his hands on the counter, one on each side of Betty, looking up at her lovingly. While she shares everything with him, he knows there are things he can't help her with. Issues she better discuss with a professional. While he may not have any solutions for her, he still wants to show his support.

“Much.” Betty nods, smiling at him and leans over for a soft kiss. Words cannot describe how happy she is to have him by her side during times like these. Times when she feels like she's going a bit crazy. “I guess with moving here, starting a new job and signing up for those online classes I was pushing therapy aside when I shouldn't have. Stuff kept piling up and yesterday broke the camel's back. I'm sorry I freaked out.” She sighs and casts her eyes down, feeling a blush spreading across her cheeks. While Jughead knows all about her mental health issues, she still feels a bit embarrassed whenever they resurface in the way they did the previous night. As if afraid that after everything she may still scare him away.

“Betts,” he says as he puts his finger under her chin, making her look up and meet his eyes. “In sickness and in health, right?” he asks and Betty nods, the sunken expression replaced but a tiny smile once again.

“I love you so much,” Betty whispers as she wraps her arms around Jughead's neck, pulling him closer to her.

“God, I hope you do.” Jughead laughs, pressing his forehead against hers and bringing his hand to cup her cheek, stroking it softly. “Because I'm madly in love with you.”

[planktonpeyton-blog]

Every-once-in-a-while anxiety

As stated in my previous blog, I have not fully grasped how to deal with emotional pain. It has been a while, but the second anxiety creeps up, you can feel it. Your chest tightens. Your airways seem to slowly close in. Tears are sliding down your face at an alarming rate, and suddenly every bit of sadness, worry, regret, and hatred you have seems to carry more weight than your physical being. To some, this reaction is dramatic but in a moment of sheer terror, it's nearly uncontrollable. Panic attacks rarely happen to me. It happened when I smoked pot for the first time. It happened when my dad died. It happened one time while I was driving. It happened today. Sometimes it seems warranted and sometimes it comes completely out of nowhere. Everything you are worried about suddenly becomes much more of a reality than it was before and it's too much to handle. Today my mom and I got into a bit of an argument. I hate confrontation, and especially when it gets ugly. She reminded me of the three years I wasted with my ex boyfriend, who pushed me away from my family... One of my biggest regrets. I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea about my relationship with my mom. I love her so much, we just butt heads here and there. I try and express my emotional turmoil and it turns into a competition of who lost more. I feel awkward in the home in which I grew up because she's dating someone new.... Also creating more anxiety. I don't want this to turn into a conversation about my mom, because that's a bummer and a more negative part of this story. So short story long... The conversation with my mom (which was over the phone) is what caused me to lose it. What I didn't expect was Mark, (my boyfriend) to walk into the room mid-conversation. He immediately noticed something was wrong. He placed a hand on my shoulder and his other palm on my face. He wiped the tears from my eyes, and signaled for me to get off the phone. Mark has seen me upset, like angry, hysterical upset but never hysterically anxious. Next thing I know I'm breathing uncontrollably, and can't stop. Quietly right by my side is Mark who continues to gently rub my back and say, "everything is okay, I am here with you, don't worry baby". He kept reminding me of where I was (which strangely helped), and didn't for one second act taken aback. He distracted me from myself by talking about easy concepts. He was calm and helpful which is important when you have a panic attack. If people around you act freaked out by your behavior, that makes it inherently worse because you are feeling judged instead of supported. I posted this because it actually happened... TODAY. It is also mental health awareness month, and I hope someone out there can benefit from this blog. Before writing this I remembered this post I had seen before, so it isn't original but it certainly is appropriate. I'll close with this very enlightening list, so hopefully you know what to do when someone you love is having a panic attack. This is coming from someone who doesn't often have panic attacks. Until my dad passed away, I never genuinely felt depression or severe anxiety. For me, it is more situational than chronic. I can't imagine what it feels like dealing with it ALL THE TIME. I send everyone out there my love and support. https://www.facebook.com/MentalHealthOnTheMighty/videos/1748674515401259/