#this was not good for my mental health at all

[dollishmehrayan]

# CHRISTMAS TREE DECORATING AND CHAOS ── .✦ ( decorating trees with batboys ‘separated’! ⋆౨ৎ

a/n: I literally feel so happy genuinely now, I guess my mental health is getting better && anyways i have 64 requests to get to… i truly need to speed run through these but some I can’t do sadly 😭 so sorryy ᥫ᭡, tags: (batboys x fem!reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

The king of enthusiasm: As soon as you suggest decorating the tree together, he’s all in.

“We’re going for the most extra tree Gotham has ever seen!” He wants it tall enough to touch the ceiling and glittery enough to blind someone.

He’s the guy who insists on climbing to the very top to put on the star, even though he wobbles dangerously on the ladder.

Sings Christmas songs (terribly off-key he’s also like tone deaf and beat deaf it’s a curse to hear him sing something at karaoke) while you decorate, complete with dramatic twirls and spins around the tree.

Accidentally tangles himself in the lights at least twice. “I’m fine, I’m fine! I was just… testing the durability!”

Insists on taking a million photos of you with the finished tree, calling you his “Christmas angel.”

When it’s all done, he dims the lights, wraps an arm around you, and whispers, “This might be my favorite Christmas ever.”

JASON TODD ── .✦

He pretends to be indifferent. “Decorating a tree? Sounds boring.” But the second you start, he’s invested.

He’s surprisingly good at untangling lights and getting them perfectly spaced on the tree. “What? I’ve got steady hands.”

Jason leans into more minimalistic decor deep reds, dark greens, and gold accents but he lets you take the lead. “You want glittery ornaments? Fine. But I draw the line at tinsel.” (he’s like those sad beige moms but with like dark traditional Christmas colors…)

Complains about how prickly the tree is the entire time but still helps you string popcorn garlands because he knows it makes you happy.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

He’s excited about decorating but is terrible at it. Tim tries, but he’s way better at figuring out the tech side of things (like synchronized tree lights) than actually hanging ornaments.

Spends 20 minutes untangling lights and another 20 trying to figure out why one strand isn’t working. “It’s science! There’s a method to this madness.”

He’s the type to sneak a caffeine break halfway through while you keep decorating. “What? I need fuel to focus!”

Insists on hanging some nerdy ornaments—little Batman logos, Star Wars-themed ones, or even a tiny Robin figurine.

When you get frustrated with his lack of artistic flair, he pulls you close and says, “Hey, at least I’m good company, right?”

After it’s all done, he insists on dimming the lights and turning on the synchronized tree music. “Look at that. A masterpiece.”

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Initially acts like it’s beneath him. “Why would I waste time decorating a tree?” But he ends up being surprisingly good at it.

Damian has an eye for symmetry, so every ornament has to be perfectly spaced. “No, that one is too close to the red one. Move it.”

If you mention that decorating the tree is a nostalgic tradition for you, he softens immediately. “Fine. But this had better be worth it.”

He refuses to wear a Christmas sweater, but you catch him smiling when you put on a ridiculous reindeer headband.

Titus gets involved, carrying around ornaments and wagging his tail, which Damian pretends to be annoyed by but secretly loves.

When the tree is finished, he stands back with his arms crossed, pretending not to care. But when you beam at him, he quietly says, “It looks… nice. I suppose this wasn’t a complete waste of time.”

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

(He buys like 40 ft Christmas trees for the main ball in the manor and like that’s almost impossible to decorate without professionals)

The ultimate perfectionist. He has a very clear vision for the tree, but he tries to let you take the lead. “It’s your tradition. I’ll follow your lead… mostly.”

Insists on using the tallest tree that will fit in Wayne Manor and hires a team to bring it in.

He’s all about elegant, classic decorations white lights, glass ornaments, and a tasteful tree topper. But if you want colorful lights or quirky ornaments, he’ll indulge you.

Offers to lift you up to reach the highest branches instead of letting you use a ladder. “I don’t need you breaking your neck before the gala.”

Alfred brings hot cocoa and cookies halfway through, smiling at how relaxed Bruce looks around you.

When the tree is done, he turns to you and says, “It’s perfect. Just like this moment.” Then he pulls you into a rare, heartfelt kiss under the twinkling lights.

[sunnywalnut]

I also would like to add as someone who takes medication- ask other people if it seems like your meds are working.

Especially if you take antipsychotics/stimulant drugs.

A lot of meds do have side effects that can be pretty mean. Or not work at all. But they also could just be working so good that you don't notice because you're so used to struggling that getting used to a new normal is ALSO a struggle.

"but why would you stop taking meds if they're working?" We're human. If something worked, and has worked for a while, we don't think "oh goodness I should keep doing this even though there's no increase of Good just to make sure the Bad doesn't come back!"

We think "damn this thing really isn't working the same as it once did. Idk if it works anymore. Maybe I should stop"

And to that I tell you WAIT!!

Talk to your roommates, your friends, your family. Ask them if they remember how you were struggling before your medication. Ask them if it seems like you're struggling still or what symptoms might look like they're starting to show up again.

"but how would they know what goes on in my brain?" Ohoho my friend that's the wonderful part! Mental health HAS PHYSICAL SIGNS!!

Forgetfulness can show up as losing your keys or phone even though they're in the same chair beside you.

Clustered brainspace/"confused thoughts"/brain static can look like struggling to do house chores or having to tear things apart in order to sort through them correctly or even changing tasks seven different times even though they don't make sense to anyone including you.

Depression or problems with executive function can look like not being able to take a shower even when you sit still for half an hour obsessing and feeling guilty about it.

And of course this is only three examples. There's so much more that could happen and show up in different ways(which I absolutely encourage people to add on their own) but please. Before you decide to go off your meds, go through the process of figuring out if they ACTUALLY don't work

Lest you turn out like me, three years of no meds on a steady decline.

Thank you.

Local PSA: invisible disability does NOT mean you can live your life like a "normal person" invisible disability meant that if a stranger looks at you in public they wouldn't know what's going on.

Like if a wheelchair user were to decide to run into a corner store to grab a candy bar because they know that their legs can last that long without, the cashier wouldn't know.

Or someone with "mild" scoliosis walking upright through their shoulder leans slightly to the left. Maybe they just have bad posture. The lady in the next isle thinks to herself.

The person with EDS or POTS or whatever sort of condition wearing compression gloves out and about. Perhaps it's a fashion statement?

Or what about the people with intestinal issues? They can look like "normal people" too.

You never know what someone is going through.

You never know what they might need to survive or if they're on the edge of a flare up or even if they are currently going through one just by one look.

I think both disabled and non disabled need to realize this. You're not "no longer disabled" because you can "live without" disability aids. They're there to help you. To make your life easier. If living without a cane is going to make it more likely you'll fall over and hurt yourself, use the cane.

If you need to sit down to do dishes or cut vegetables because you need to save your legs for taking out the trash, sit down.

If you need a shower chair because you don't know if you'll pass out, use the shower chair.

People are going to judge you regardless for multiple reasons out of your control.

I'd rather they judge you while you're being safe.

You don't need to struggle to be "normal."

You can just be you.

However that looks for you.

Use your disability aids.

[tossawary]

I reread "Check, Please!" this afternoon. One of my favorite moments (SPOILERS) is the aftermath of Jack and Bitty's on-ice kiss on live television, when Jack is talking to his parents about the public reveal that's just happened. They're like, "Oh??? That's a big step isn't it???" And Jack is so smiling high on cup victory and love that he's like, "Yeah. Who cares, though?" And Jack's parents look like they're bluescreening, he just fucking broke them, because what happened??? To their anxious child who had a mental breakdown and overdose??? He's all relaxed and happy and chill now! Wow.

And there's obviously a lot of things contributing to this character development / mental health stability for Jack. He's older. He's been through both college and rehab. He's got a lot of support in good friends, a great boyfriend, loving parents, friendly teammates, and a supportive employer. This is a happy choice that he made on his own terms. And so on and so forth.

But on a more humorous note, I also think part of this newfound chillness must come from the fact that his good, supportive friends are all loud and proud weirdos. Shitty Knight does something wild every 24 hours, possibly on purpose but also possibly a genuine fuckup, that would have had Jack curling up under a rock out of embarrassment for life, then Shitty just walks it off. No big deal, brah. And if it's not Shitty, then Lardo or Ransom or Holster have got Jack's back in terms of nonstop sheer hot, shameless mess and friendship. It puts a lot of things into context.

Freshman Shitty: "Heeeey, man, my new best friend, nice to meet you, thanks for getting me off that roof and also lending me your jacket! Not that I've got anything to be ashamed of, nudity is our natural state of being, but, y'know, don't super want to start the first day off getting arrested for streaking while trying to get to my Gender Studies class on time. Uncomfortable and uncool. Want to get brunch? My breakfast was half of a cheap beer and a packet of sour gummy worms, which while delish, my man, does not do good things to my stomach or my brain health when I'm trying to do the good thinking stuff. Speaking of, dude, excuse me a mo', I think I need to puke into this trash can here. Don't want to litter or anything."

Freshman Jack, holding Shitty's backpack while this stranger pukes politely into a campus trash can: (internally) "I think this is curing my anxiety somehow."

[it-was-summer]

... And Fall In Love Whenever You Can.

A/N: This fic genuinely had me tearing up as I wrote it. Therefore, it shall hold a sweet place in my heart. As a kid, I used to say, "If something makes you feel, then it is good." I still believe that today. If it makes you happy, sad, flustered, ANYTHING! To feel something while reading is such a beautiful reaction to media. I often cry at movies, I cry when I read romance novels, I cry when I read poetry, and I laugh when I do, too. I hope you enjoy it, and I hope you feel something, Em <3 (I also apologize for vanishing; I got sick, and it made me feel brain fog)

Link to the Ao3: ... And Fall In Love Whenever You Can Link to the: Yee olde masterlist Tags: Grief support group, mention of death(s), loss of romantic partners, struggling with mental health, tears, the rise and fall that is nonlinear healing, fear of forgetting a loved one, falling in love after tragedy, Spencer sounds like he had therapy, Maeve mentioned, guns mentioned, she/her pronouns for reader used at like one point, Reader's POV for the most part, Reader is in extreme denial and feels guilty, a secret other thing??, lightly proofread tehe!

Genre: Light Angst, Some? Hurt/Comfort, Fluff! Pairing: Season10! Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Plot: Meeting Spencer at a grief support meeting might be the best and the worst thing to ever happen to you- but it's all relative in the eyes of love.

Word Count: 9,791

You were pacing a dimly lit parking lot outside of the funeral home. It had been eleven months, two weeks, and three days since Alexander’s death. The grief meetings occurred every third Wednesday, and everyone was lovely enough. You just couldn’t find it in yourself to go inside this particular Wednesday. Because it was on this date, two years ago, Alexander had gotten on one knee at the aquarium and asked you to marry him. It was two years ago that you had said yes, not knowing that a little over a year from then, he’d be dead. 

Your feet kept making strides to the double door entryway, only to slow to a stop when your hands reached the door’s push handle. Then, you’d shake your head and turn around to circle the parking lot once more. With your luck, the meeting would be over before you even got the courage to go inside. 

A groan escapes your throat as you firmly put your hands on your hips, tilting your head to the Summer sky. “I’m sorry,” Your voice is raw, barely a whisper as you struggle to keep yourself from crying. You knew everyone said not to keep it in, to express your grief freely. It minimized stress. At least, that’s what the grief counselors say. 

The worst part was no longer knowing who you were apologizing to— yourself or Alexander. 

You were walking around one of the parking lot’s street lamps when you saw someone standing at the doors, frozen in place. It was like watching a mirror of yourself—rigid shoulders, twitching hands, shaking head. 

You approach the man slowly, your image warped in the reflection of the glass doors. He turns to face you before you can speak, and he looks like you did eleven months ago. His eyes have dark circles around them, tinted with a red water-line and dull cheeks. That doesn’t stop you from gracing him with a gentle smile, “Are you going inside?” 

His eyes meet yours for a second, looking away to glance back at the doors. “I’m not sure.” His voice is quiet, scared. He sounds like he is still on the fence. You nod, drawing your lips into a tiny line as you drop your hands to your sides. “Are you?” He asks, stepping out of the way for you. 

You feel your mouth open to say you are going inside, but the words never come. Instead, you shake your head side-to-side timidly. “I’m not sure either,” You laugh out feebly. He nods, a dull smile gracing his delicate features for a millisecond before looking off with a forlorn expression. 

“I was thinking about walking around the parking lot again… to try to gain the confidence to go inside. You’re,” you pause, wondering if it's a good idea to offer the man an invitation, “You’re welcome to join me if you’d like.” 

The man looks at you again, his eyes widening for a second. You’re sure he’s about to decline, return to his car, and drive away, but he nods. You feel yourself smiling. It’s a little subdued, but it’s real. You mouth a silent ‘okay’ as you move your hands to your pant pockets, stepping away from the doors with this mourning stranger. You figured you didn’t have to talk if he didn’t want to, so everything was quiet as the two of you slowly walked around the large parking lot. 

Eventually, your quiet stranger speaks, “Thank you,” 

You shrug a little, sniffling, “It’s daunting, especially the first meeting.” 

He frowns a little, watching your eyes flit over to him and then back to the night sky. “That obvious?” 

“Only a little, but that’s not a bad thing.” Your voice is gentle as your feet slow to a stop, a light smile appearing on your face as you stare into the night. Spencer tilts his head to look at the stars, silently hoping that what makes you smile will make him smile, too. “Do you see her yet?” You ask, voice like honey. 

He feels like crying as he says, “No,” He doesn’t even know who you’re looking at. 

Your right hand is coming out of your coat pocket as you point to Cassiopeia slowly, tracing the stars with your index finger. “Cassiopeia, she’s a little low right now, but in a few months, she’ll get higher. You see her?”

And Spencer does. He feels his body relax, just for a moment. “I do.” He feels himself smiling a little at the sky, and the feeling feels almost foreign. His gaze falls back to you as you stuff your right-hand pack into your pocket, “I’m– I didn’t introduce myself earlier. I’m Spencer.” 

“That’s alright; I didn’t introduce myself either,” you sigh before you tell him your name. He nods at your response and follows you once your feet start moving again. 

“Have you—” He motions to the funeral home in the distance, “ever been inside?” 

“Oh, yeah. I’m a funeral home grief support group regular.” You joke lightly, though the soft chuckle you let out sounds like a sad one. 

He nods, nervously adjusting the beige cardigan on his chest. “Is everyone—I mean—” He draws his lips closed as he tries to gather his thoughts. “Do you like it?” 

Your feet slow for a second as you think about it. Sure, everyone was friendly, and the support was more helpful than harmful. But did you like it? You give him a little nod when you answer, “Yeah, it’s been nice. Less,” You tilt your head slowly like you’re choosing your words carefully. “Less Lonely.” 

Spencer lets out a relieved-sounding sigh as he mutters a gentle “Right.” 

“I just,” You swallow carefully, “I’m having a hard time going in today. My fiancé proposed two years ago today. I just— I mean everyone inside knows, I just,” You trail off for a second, sniffling lightly as a cool breeze brushes against your watering eyes. “It doesn’t matter.” 

Spencer didn’t know what to say to that. With Maeve, he had barely met her in person before she was murdered in front of him— the future pulled out from under him. Nowadays, he spends his time rereading books, remembering conversations on the phone, and mourning her silently in his apartment. Sometimes, he didn’t know which would be worse: losing her when he did or ten years down the line. Nonetheless, there is no Maeve to help him answer that question. 

He struggles to find the words for a second before he nods, slow and unsure of himself, “It matters.” 

You grin at how scared he sounds, the sound of a man holding on to the memory of a face that keeps fading away in his mind. “I know,” you can feel the ghost of the engagement ring on your left hand, a ring that now lies in a coffin. 

As the two of you get close to the building once more, you ask, “Are you going to go in?” 

Spencer swallows hard, the knot in his throat making it difficult for him to breathe. “Maybe next meeting,” 

You nod, “Me too.” You stare at your car in the distance before you feel yourself standing in the parking lot with Spencer— unmoving. “I know it’s not a lot, and I know that I can’t help that much, but,” You pull your phone out of your pocket, opening the keypad cautiously before holding it out to him. “If you ever want to talk about it, or anything really, I’d be happy to talk with you.” 

Normally, Spencer would decline such a kind gesture. He would thank you, drive home, and find solace in something familiar. His fingers twitch lightly as he reaches out for your phone, staring down at the keypad for a second before he puts in his number. He doesn’t know why he wants to talk with you. He thinks it’s because talking with a stranger about Maeve seemed less daunting than talking about it with his coworkers— his friends. You barely know him, and that makes your offer seem safe. No preconceived notions, pity, or gentle promises of being there for him, just a stranger talking to another stranger. 

Two weeks go by like usual— no text from your stranger named Spencer, coffee for one at the café that was Alexander’s favorite, taking his mom to dinner on Thursdays, and so on. Sometimes, the days blur into a muddled painting filled with muted tones, and you try your hardest to remember when everything had a vibrant hue.

Most days are easy, easier than most, at least. It’s not that you forget about him. You remember him when you see a couple holding hands or golden retrievers going for walks, you think about him with everything you see, and it feels good to remember him. You’re happy to have known him so well, loved him so deeply. But all the love inside you has nowhere to go, so you go to his grave on Saturdays, hoping you can pour all the love in your heart onto a tombstone with his name on it. It never works, of course, but it helps. 

You're running late this particular Saturday morning. You have two coffees in hand—one of which always goes untouched—and you’re stuck on the metro. That’s when you see him again, your stranger sitting in the fluorescents of the railcar. 

Pushing through a small crowd, you approach him, slowly taking the empty seat next to him. Spencer doesn’t look up at first, his eyes glued to the book in his hands. That is until you’re leaning over to him to say a small “Hello,” 

He jumps at the sound, head snapping to look at you with wide eyes. He doesn’t know why he’s so surprised you remember him, but he is. “Hello,” 

Your eyes meet his, “Do you remember me? I-I’m sorry I shouldn’t have invaded–”

“No! I mean, yes, I remember you. You’re not invading my space. You’re fine.” 

You let out a relieved sigh, looking away from him for a second to look down at the cups in your hands. His eyes follow your gaze, and he offers you a shy smile, “Are you meeting someone?” Small talk was never his strong suit. 

You look at him, eyes lingering on his polite smile. “Oh,” you laugh like it's funny. “No, it's just me.” Spencer gives you a confused look, and you quickly answer his silent question. “I visit Alex’s grave. He loved black coffee. It was the most unsettling thing about him.” 

Spencer doesn’t know how you’re smiling so wide as you say it. How could you talk about someone you lost and smile so wide talking about them? Would he smile like that one day? Would he even have things to smile about, or would what-ifs haunt him until the day he dies?

You find that you hate the silence that follows, the lack of sound creeping over your skin, making you itch to say something more. “I’ve always liked cemeteries too, so bonus, I guess.” 

That gets you a sharp laugh, “You’ve always liked cemeteries?” Spencer’s eyes seem slightly brighter now, less red than two weeks ago, and they’re laser-focused on you. 

You happily nod, “Always thought they were beautiful. It’s a creation of love, a way for your love for someone to live on.”

“Not sure everyone thinks about them that way,” 

“Well, I guess they wouldn’t, and that’s alright with me.” You hum softly as the intercom announces in a static-filled voice that the railcar will be moving soon. “It’s quieter that way.”

Spencer glances towards the intercom for a second before turning back to you, “I suppose you’re right— about the quiet thing, not sure I agree with always liking them.” And he’s smiling at you, a real smile. 

You feel yourself smiling back, wide as ever, “What’s your opinion on cemeteries then?” 

“I’d like to say I don’t have an opinion on them, but if I had to form one, I would say they’re…” He trails off for a second, thinking about it more now. He laughs for a second, “Well, I suppose I find them rather serene.” 

Your eyebrows raise for a second as you study him. How he seems to be relaxing in the conversation, and you can’t help but consider extending him an invitation to your weekly visit with Alexander. The longer you stare at him, the more you think the worst he can say is no, so you ask. “Would you like to join me?” 

Spencer reels back slightly at the invitation; it feels intimate, yet he doesn’t want to say no. He wants to see what you see, to understand your mind, “I–” He looks away for a second, staring at the still-opened book in his lap. “If you’ll have me.” 

Once you are on the street, you hum lightly while walking beside him. Spencer doesn’t seem to mind very much, his fingers fiddling with the edges of his book that now resides closed in his hand at his side. He’s nervous for some reason. He doesn’t understand why you invited him, nor why he said yes. He thinks maybe he should announce that he has other plans, turn on his heel, and book it in the other direction. 

But when the two of you tread closer to the cemetery gates, you start talking again. “I hope you don’t find it strange that I invited you. It’s been a little under a year– well, a year next week– and I know it might seem weird, but I’d like to think he’s happy about me having a new friend.” 

He knows it is a coping mechanism, and he knows Alexander cannot feel anything anymore. Spencer’s a man of science, but hearing you say that makes him feel at ease. His shoulders unwind slowly, “He sounded like a nice person,” 

You let out a playful hum, “Sometimes. If he didn’t like you, he made it pretty obvious.” You pause for a second, glancing over at Spencer. “He was tall, kind of like you, and nerdy. But he was so funny; no one knew how funny he could be. They never listened hard enough, you know? I hated that people would talk over him in a crowd. To me, he was the only person worth listening to.” 

Spencer finds him smiling at that, following you as you take a left. He sees that you're smiling, too, and when the two of you get to his grave, you’re still smiling. You let out a happy sigh as you talk, introducing Spencer as “Your new friend.”

For a while, you tell him stories—memories from when Alexander was still alive—and he finds he doesn’t mind listening to them. He sees them as a great distraction from his lack of happy stories with Maeve. You’re laughing a little as you tell him of the time that Alexander’s mother wouldn’t stop sending him a massive, bulk-sized trail mix every time she sent him a care package in college. He had so many bags that they lived under his bed for the better part of four years. 

“Did he even like trail mix?” 

“Honestly? Yes, but he only liked the chocolate and peanuts. It would just be massive bags with an abundance of raisins inside.” You shake your head a little as you stand next to Spencer. 

Spencer lets out a slightly amused hum. His mind keeps going over how good you are with everything. You talk about Alexander openly. You don’t hold your feelings back. You smile so wide, even when you look at his headstone. He wants to know your secret— some secret to grief that he has yet to uncover.

His mouth opens briefly, closing quickly as he shifts his weight awkwardly beside you. He sucks in a nervous breath as he tries to muster up the courage to speak. “How do–” He sighs heavily, “I mean, I’m sure you struggle–” He licks his lips nervously, your eyes meeting his slowly. “When does it stop hurting?” 

You’re silent for a second, your soft smile fading as you stare at him. He’s scared that maybe that’s the wrong question to ask as he watches you turn your head to look down at Alexander’s grave. He is about to apologize when you whisper, “It feels different now.” 

Spencer’s mouth snaps shut as he waits for more, his eyes scanning your side profile slowly for some sort of sign that you’re uncomfortable. “Last year, it just felt like–” A pause, your free hand rising to your chest slowly. “It felt like someone had plunged a dull knife into my chest and left me for dead.” 

Spencer’s chest tightened for a second, his own heart feeling painfully dull as he listened to you. 

“But, I’m not the one who died. Alex did. I was so angry— disappointed that he had the nerve to leave me when we were about to start the next chapter of our lives together. I had–have– all this love inside my heart for him, and he’s gone. It took me a long time to understand that, to be okay with it.”

Your words catch in your throat, and you clear your throat quickly. The familiar burn of tears threatens to build in your eyes as you force yourself to look at Alexander’s grave. “He was so kind, and once I got past that feeling,” your voice sounded thick. “Life kept going, and so did I. He wouldn’t have wanted me to stop living my life. When you love someone, you only want them to be happy– with or without you.” 

You sniffle lightly, relaxing your shoulders slightly, “It never stops hurting, I guess, but days get better. I’m happy that I got to be a part of his life. I find some comfort in that. Somewhere, in the story of him, I’m there.” Eventually, you find the courage to look over at Spencer. When your eyes meet his, you find that he���s staring at you with a compassionate expression. You can see the understanding in his eyes. You swallow hard, pushing the emotional lump down your throat. 

“It does get better.” You whisper, your voice warm. 

Spencer nods quickly, mouthing a little ‘I know’ before his eyes trail away from you for a second. A cool breeze passes between the two of you when he says, “Just needed the reminder,” 

The next time you see him, it’s the third Wednesday of the month, and he sits right next to you. You find yourself smiling a little when he does, nudging his shoulder playfully as more people fill the space. He scoffs playfully, the silent gesture letting you know he’s happy you’re here. 

The meeting passes like usual: New members share their stories, grief counselors hand out business cards with their phone numbers, recurring members offer kind sentiments, and then, just near the end, your seat partner stands up. 

Your eyes widen for a second as you watch Spencer stand, his eyes laser-focused ahead as people turn to look at him. You watch how his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. A shaky breath leaves him as he tries his hardest to start talking. His hands flex for a second, pressing against his pants to wipe off what you can only assume is sweat. 

He stutters for a second, his confidence creeping away from him. You’re surprised when he turns his head to look at you. His breathing steadies as he watches you. “I’ve been having difficulties sleeping again. After,” His hands move a little as he speaks, his eyes periodically looking towards the rest of the group before trailing back over to you, “I just– I used to have a hard time sleeping, and lately, it’s been happening again. Every time I sleep, I see her, and I feel so–” He used to dream of her after her death, dreamt of touching her, but these were different. Dreams that constantly left him waking up feeling devastatingly alone. 

He shakes his head a little, “It’s been seven months, and I keep dreaming of everything that could have been.”  

The confession is met with comfortable silence and sympathetic looks, but not from you. You’re nodding, an encouraging smile spreading across your face. For some reason, he likes that better. “I don’t like leaving her when I wake up.” The admission feels like a weight lifting off his chest when he says it. 

There’s a pause of silence before he sits down, unsure of what else to say besides his admission. As one of the counselors begins to talk to Spencer, he finds himself listening intensely. Seven months, and he’s finally willing to take some much-needed advice. 

After that month’s meeting, Spencer has back-to-back cases. He’s keen on keeping in contact with you, which you’ve said he doesn’t have to do if he doesn’t want to, but he insists. He likes having someone to update, a friend waiting to see him when he’s free. 

The next time he’s free, it’s a rare Saturday. He’s been awake since five and can’t seem to go back to sleep. He does keep dreaming of Maeve, but they’re a little different now. This time, he was in a cemetery with you. It was freezing, the kind of cold where you could see your breath, and you were laughing about something when the two of you bumped into her. Maeve’s not angry. She just laughs and glances at Spencer before hugging you. You hug her right back and say something– and that’s when he wakes up. 

Spencer doesn’t like the feelings that stir inside him with that dream: confusion, curiosity, sadness, something else. The feeling is warm, tinged with an overcoat of sorrow, and he finds himself needing a good distraction. 

However, reading isn’t helping, nor is the crossword. So eventually, he finds himself getting ready to go out for the day in the search of a good distraction that will get his mind off his dream.

He doesn’t know why he thinks about the cemetery where Alex’s grave is on his way to get coffee that day, but he does. A part of him feels that a nice walk will do him good, so, coffee in hand, he finds himself walking… then taking the subway… then ending up in front of Alex’s grave… alone. 

Spencer’s lips slightly pout when he sees no coffee cup on the headstone. He knows that you have yet to visit your late fiancé today. He doesn’t exactly know why he’s visiting your late fiancé today; without you, it feels… strange. 

The longer Spencer stares at the letters etched in stone, the more he feels a realization dawn on him. He feels guilty… guilty for dreaming of you, guilty for craving your warmth right now, and guilty for a million different little reasons. 

Spencer feels his lips part for a second, a sigh escaping his lungs, before he whispers, “I’m a mess. " He knows he’s talking to thin air, but he feels lighter, admitting it to himself. 

“I don’t know what I’m feeling. All I know is that I shouldn’t be, and it won’t do anyone any good, and secretly I think–” He sucks in a cold breath of air, “Secretly, I think I don’t deserve it.” The grave is silent, of course, but Spencer smiles anyway. 

For a while, he thought his future had passed him by. A brief image graced his vision before leaving him blind. He can see now. He sees that he still has things to do, goals to accomplish, people to meet. Then he’s walking away. 

Two meetings and four coffee ‘dates’ later, you’re rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet as you watch Spencer laugh over something with one of the grief counselors. It’s a strange feeling to see him laugh so openly. It's heartwarming if you’re being honest. It’s hard to explain it, and the feeling is too intense– too raw. It’s a feeling you dimly remember, and suddenly, you’re nauseous. 

You have a crush, which is incredibly laughable because you’re an adult. The last time you had a crush on someone was three years ago, Alexander. This almost feels cruel. The longer you stare at him, the more real it becomes. 

Spencer catches your eye for a second and excuses himself from the conversation in his polite Spencer way. When he reaches you, he smiles warmly: “Somebody’s all smiles.” You hum with a playful roll of your eyes. 

Spencer pouts for a second, good-natured and playful, as he mutters a little, “When did smiling become a crime?” 

“It isn’t. I’m just being observant, and you have a nice smile.” You try to keep your voice calm and level, but he seems to catch on anyway. Spencer’s eyes seem laser-focused on you, studying you carefully. Internally, you’re beginning to pray that his profiling skills fail to notice the classic signs: your sweaty palms, wandering gaze, and too-tense shoulders. 

And if he does notice… you hope he doesn’t say anything. That’s not Spencer’s way, and you know it. “Everything okay?”  

You nod quickly, “I’m good, sorry, I was just thinking about… bills.” You know he catches the lie the second you say it; you can see it in his amused smile. 

“Bills?” 

“Bills.” 

“I’m not sure I like this story you’re going with, but if you’re sticking to it, I won’t pry.” 

You nod, letting your shoulders relax as you sling your bag over your shoulder. “Thank you,” 

“I was thinking,” Spencer starts as he grabs his messenger bag, following you out. “We could get dinner together Friday night.” 

“Why?” Your tone is a little flatter than you’d like it to be as Spencer walks you to your car. You'll admit the idea of being alone with him is nice, but the admission feels strange— still too raw, surreal. 

“Because…” He trails off slowly, hoping to find a better reason than it being because he wants to have dinner with you, but the longer he sits with the ideas, the more he feels like you’ll turn down his idea. He feels self-preservation take over, and for the first time (and what he hopes is the only time), he lies to you. “My teammates are having a get-together.” 

“Oh!” You say as the two of you reach your car. “And you want me to meet them or?” The idea seems less daunting. Yes, Spencer and you had been to get coffee together, but that was just coffee. Dinner seemed too intimate, but dinner with friends? Now, that was less scary. 

“Yeah! Yes, I think it’d be nice!’ Spencer’s voice cracks slightly before nervously clearing his throat in a weak attempt to control the anxiety that creeps into his tone. “Would you… like to meet them?” 

You’re leaning against your car door, and the air smells sharp with the promise of snow, and Spencer’s sure you’ll decline. You grin, nodding slightly, “Sure, I mean, it’s just dinner with friends. What time Friday?” Your arms fold over your chest, pulling your coat closer to your body.

“Six.” He doesn’t know how his fake dinner has a time, but he’s surprised at how easy it is to come up with one. “Nothing fancy. I’ll, um, text you the address.” 

You watch him for a second, trying to read him the way he reads you. His voice seems higher in pitch, and his eyes keep glancing at yours. You chalk it up to him being nervous. The combination of two groups already frying his nerves before it even happens. “Can’t wait. See you Friday.” 

Spencer stuffs his freezing hands in his pockets as he watches you enter your car and drive off. Then, the panic sets in. 

He’s tailing Derek desperately, “Listen, I know it’s rushed, but–” 

“I don’t see why you can’t just text her the address and ask her out. Straightforward.” Derek says as he takes the left towards Penelope’s office. “Or you could say we canceled and make it just the two of you.” 

“Considering I already lied to her once, I’d rather not lie twice. And–” He fumbles with his words for a short second. “It’s not a date. I just thought she thought it was one, and I panicked.” 

“What’s wrong with it being a date?” Derek asks, knocking on the door gently before entering Penelope’s office. 

“Date?” Penelope echoes back as she turns in her chair. 

Spencer holds out a hand defensively, “It wouldn’t— it’s complicated! Please say yes. You’re the first person I’ve asked.” 

“Asked what? Am I going to be asked?” Penelope chirps as Derek hands her a coffee. 

“Pretty boy here,” Derek motioned to Spencer with a light wave, “Lied to one of his ladies. Invited her to a team dinner that doesn’t exist.”

“A team dinner would be fun! With a new addition, too!” Penelope said with a sip of her coffee. “When?” 

“Friday,” Spencer mumbles, avoiding her gaze. 

“Friday, as in, tomorrow Friday?” She sucks in a breath of air, “Spencer…” 

He frowns and mouths a little, ‘I know’. He looks at them, pleading, “Please, even if it’s just the two of you…” He trails off slowly, watching Penelope and Derek share a look. 

“I’ll text the rest of the group.” 

“Not the whole story,” Spencer adds as Penelope pulls out her phone. “Please.”

“I’m already doing you one favor, boy genius.” 

Spencer is surprised at how many of his team members agree to dinner. JJ, Penelope, and Derek all promise to bring their respective partners. Rossi and Hotch politely decline, but given his sudden plans, he doesn’t blame them. 

However, by the time five-thirty rolls around, he can see that he’s been played. The first text comes from JJ, claiming that Henry is sick and that she can’t make it. Derek follows, saying that he accidentally double-booked and cannot cancel his reservation with Savannah. He can feel himself sending a silent prayer to Penelope before she, too, is texting him to cancel. 

So now, he stands outside the restaurant in a long brown trench coat and purple scarf tied tight around his neck. When you arrive, adorned with a cream sweater and rosy cheeks, you ask him the inevitable: “Where’s the team?” 

Spencer's throat tightens as he answers, “They’ve canceled, so it’ll be just us if that’s alright with you?” 

He can see your smile falter momentarily before you nod, “That’s fine, another time.” You shiver a little, glancing towards the restaurant. “Should we…?” Spencer, silently elated that you aren’t leaving, nods and hurriedly rushes over to open the door for you. 

Once seated, you are greeted by a slightly uncomfortable awkward silence. You’re sure that it will soon resolve itself, but Spencer seems too lost in his thoughts, and it becomes clear that if you want this long silence to end, you’ll have to speak first.

“I’m sorry every–”

“Do you–” 

The two of you stare at each other briefly before laughing softly. Spencer’s eyes crinkle a little when he’s laughing, a feature you seem to be adoring silently before he says, “I’m sorry that everyone canceled.”

You push out a little breath, your gaze falling to the menu on the table. “That’s okay, I’m sure everyone has busy lives.” You shrug a bit before glancing up at him, “I do have a question for you, though,” You watch as Spencer’s back straightens, and he gives you a small smile as the ‘go ahead.’ 

You flatten out the front of your sweater nervously, “Do you think it’s weird that I was supposed to meet your friends— the team?” 

Spencer gives you a slightly confused look before you quickly add, “I don’t think it is, but I was talking to my coworker about tonight, and she said it seemed like an excuse for a date. Then I explained it, and she called it weird, and I don’t know—Do you think it’s weird?” 

Spencer can feel his cheeks heating up against his will, and his head shakes from side to side, “No! No, it’s not weird.” he pauses, thinking about it for a second. “Well, maybe a little. But not for you, for me. You’ve never expressed an intense interest in meeting them, but they mentioned bringing someone, and I thought—” He motions to you with a shaky hand, “Thought you’d be a good person to bring to dinner. You’re lovely, and my friend, and I—”  he feels the rest of his words die in his throat. He wants to tell you that he wants the team to meet you. He wants everyone to see how wonderful and kind you are. 

He feels his mouth dry, realizing he wants you to meet the team now. He wants a third party to witness your calming effect on him, and, most importantly, he wants them to like you because he likes you. 

A slow ringing grows in his ears at the full realization of his feelings for you. Your smile, usually calming, has his heart leaping in his chest. He finds himself leaning closer when you say, “I didn’t think it was weird either,” 

Spencer lets out a little huff of relief, “Good, that’s good.” His heart was beating fast in his chest. He knew he had feelings for you but was unaware of how deep they ran. 

“Though I will say, it is strange that they all canceled.” 

He feels awful lying to you. He can count two lies now and doesn’t want to tell a third. “Yeah, I can’t explain that one. They all did it at the last minute. I’m sorry.” 

“I don’t mind, though I was scared this was all a set-up for a date.” You laugh as if it’s the silliest idea you’ve heard. 

Spencer can feel his heart in his throat, his breathing quickening slightly. “Would it be bad if it was?” he can’t stop the words from spilling out, his eyes widening at his sentence.

Your surprised face stares back at his, breathless as you look at him. You’re about to say something when the waitress comes by to take your order. You manage a slight, polite smile as you order before you’re staring off at Spencer. His nervous eyes flicker between the waitress and you as he orders quickly. 

When she’s gone, you stare at each other with bated breath. You draw in a slow, calming breath when you say, “I don’t know,” 

“You don’t… know?” 

“I just, I haven’t thought about—” You pause, knowing it’s a lie. “I have—” You correct gently before you let out a frustrated sigh. “I thought we were friends.” Your voice cracks slightly. 

Spencer draws his head back at that, “We are friends. We are. I didn't know if you ever thought about—” He doesn’t know what he’s saying. What is he aiming for here?  

“Anyone dating you would be lucky, Spencer.” You say, sweet and gentle. You don’t know how to save this situation. Your love for Alexander will always be in your heart, strong and genuine, but… looking at the man across from you. 

You watch his fingers nervously trace patterns on the glass of water in front of him, how he’s looking at you with such a sweet expression. You just didn’t think this would happen to you. You were sure that Alex was it. He was all you would ever know— you had resigned yourself to it. 

Would you be a bad person if you fell in love again? After everything, it feels… selfish, dirty, wrong, terrifying. “I’m not sure I’m your best option.”  Is what you settle on. 

Your heart silently breaks as you watch Spencer’s face fall. His nervous fingers slow their movements until he whispers a sad, “Right.” There’s a pause, like he’s deciding what to do next. He then nods, like he’s coming to terms with something. 

“Right, I’m not saying I’m looking–” His brown eyes scan your face, “I’m not even sure I want something like that. I don’t know why it sounded like I was. I just want you to know that I—” He swallows thickly, “I like being your friend.” 

“Me too! I like being your friend, too.” 

“Good!”

“Great!”

His smile doesn’t reach his eyes, “So we’re on the same page?”

“Same chapter and everything.” 

Spencer lets out a huff of a laugh at that, nodding slowly. 

The rest of the dinner seems normal; the interaction from earlier seems to be brushed under the rug, and you’re grateful it is. However, the topic kept worming its way into your train of thought. The nagging thought of ‘What if…’. 

It's not a terribly horrible idea to date Spencer. If you were honest with yourself, you had thought about it before—not obsessively, just in passing. A little whisper of an idea, lovely and new. It was nice to fantasize about love, but it was just a fantasy. You had a great love, and you were grateful. 

Wanting more than that was greedy. 

After dinner, Spencer insisted on walking you home. He wouldn’t listen to a single one of your protests and simply convinced you with a firm, “I’ve seen what happens to people when they go off alone late at night,” 

The reminder made you readily accept his company on the cold December night. Walking by his side, watching how your feet started to sync in step, your mind began to wander. What did a date even feel like? It had been so long since you’ve had a date… you weren’t even sure you would know if you were on one unless it was explicitly said. 

The thought makes you chuckle, earning the interest of one Doctor Spencer Reid. “What’s on your giggling mind?” 

“Nothing,” You sigh, glancing over at him. “I was just thinking about how long it's been since I’ve been on a date. I don’t even think I would know if I was on a date if I was on one. Someone would have to sit me down and explain it to me,” 

Spencer’s lips quirk upwards at the idea, listening to you. The sweet look he’s giving you is not lost on you as you continue to ramble, “I mean, I’m not even sure I remember the last time I tried to look for a date.” 

“Care to take a guess?” 

“Uhm,” You draw out the sound as you think, your tongue wetting your lips. “Six months ago, maybe, kind of, sort of?” 

Spencer’s clever mind quickly realizes that this failed dating experience happened a month before he met you, and then he notes that it also happened ten months after Alexander’s death. “And.. What do you mean by that? How does someone, kind of, sort of, maybe look for a date?” 

You roll your eyes, “It wasn’t really my idea. My friends convinced me to go on some dating apps, and I tried!” You laugh lightly, “Well. I pretended to try. I just didn’t like it. It wasn’t what I expected.” 

“What were you expecting?” 

Your feet falter momentarily before finding their pace next to Spencer again, “Something from a Nora Ephron movie, maybe? Something like You’ve got Mail.” As you say it, you see the strange look on Spencer’s face, and it makes you grin. “It’s a romantic comedy.” 

He mouths a soft ‘oh’ and feels awkward because he still doesn’t know what you mean. You’re quick to explain, “It just means I had high expectations. Alexander and I were friends for a while before we,” You trail off before you wave the sentence off with your hand. “I just didn’t like it. Felt too forced.” 

Spencer understands that part, slowly taking a left with you. “Haven’t tried that yet.” 

“I wouldn’t recommend it.” 

He grins and nods, “What do you recommend?” His curious mind was getting the better of him. His left hand slipped out of his coat as he waited for your answer, his knuckles dangerously close to yours. 

“In a world seemingly becoming increasingly dependent on technology for everything? I’d recommend shooting your shot with every pretty stranger you see.” It's a joke, but the idea of Spencer asking for the numbers of every pretty person in DC made your chest feel strangely tight— a light reminder that your crush was still going strong. And you’ve already turned him down.

“I’m not sure you’ve been paying close attention to me these past four months,” He jokes lightly. 

“Oh, trust me, I have been.” The words tumble out before you can stop yourself, and you can feel your cheeks growing impossibly hot. 

Spencer’s quick to tease, “You have been?” 

You nod, trying to act like it's nothing but friendly, but your nervous breathing might give you away. You take a steady breath, happy to think that if he sees red on your cheeks, you can blame it on the cold weather. 

Instead, he slows to a stop just steps away from your apartment complex. You stop, turning to look at him, and when you see him, all composure leaves you with one little glance. Spencer’s ears are red, his hazel eyes glued to yours, and his hands nervously fidget with his long purple scarf. 

He draws in his lower lip nervously, his brow furrowing in the way that lets you know he’s meditating on something in that beautiful brain of his. His hands move as he begins to talk, “I have been too,” 

With that, you feel all the air knocked out of you, and your trembling fingers hide in your pockets. You’re not sure what he wants you to say or do. It feels like a confession, making your heart pound in your chest. His sweet eyes study you, “I’m not sure what I—” He steps closer. 

“Not sure what I want. All I know is that I feel something—” He makes a weird motion with his hands like he’s trying to shape his feelings with his hands. “Hopeful? I don’t know! I just,” 

“I know.” You rasp out, nodding quickly. “I know.” You repeat it because you do know. You know what he’s feeling, that dangerous feeling of tentative hope, the sense that something is beginning again. The world shifting into focus and becoming colorful again. 

Spencer’s gaze softens as that, and then the two of you just stare at each other for a moment. Guilt seemed to creep into your chest, invading your heart the longer you stared into those pleading brown eyes. Some part of you wanted to give it a shot, take him in your arms, and just let go. The stubborn part of you couldn’t let go of what you once knew. 

What would you say to your friends— or worse, Alexander’s family? Thinking about being happy with someone else again felt like a betrayal. 

Spencer could see the shift in your demeanor, the way your eyes glossed over with emotion, your back rigid, and he knew you weren’t ready. The feelings you were feeling were ones he wrestled with weeks ago after visiting Alexander’s grave. “I visited his grave without you a few times.”

 Your brows knit together at that, stuttering gently as you manage a soft “Why?” 

“I felt guilty about how I feel about you. I thought visiting his grave would make me back down, but it didn’t. I visited Maeve’s grave and thought about my feelings there too. She would have liked you.” 

“Spencer, don’t–”

“You told me once that he would’ve wanted you to be happy with or without him. Why can’t you let yourself be happy? I know it’s uncharted territory; it is for me, too, and he knows you don’t love him any less–” 

“You didn’t even know him!” 

Spencer's lips draw into a tight line at that. You can’t stop yourself before saying, “You don’t understand the love I had for him. It was different from how you felt about Maeve. It was special.” 

Your breathing is heavy, and you're trying to stop yourself from crying. The second you say it, you regret it. Your rigid posture slacks, and you step towards him quickly, but he steps back once you get closer. 

“You don’t get to say that,” his voice is colder, his eyes cast down to his hands. Then he takes a sharp breath and looks up at you; his warm hazel gaze turns cold. “My love for her was just as special as yours was for Alexander. I can see that, even if you can’t. But at least I can see when something exceptional is right in front of me. Unlike you, I didn’t want it to slip through my fingers again.” 

Your mouth feels dry as you try to respond, anger and guilt fighting an internal war inside you before Spencer turns on his heel and says, “Goodnight,” 

The snow starts again as you watch him walk away, blinking flakes out of your lashes, cheeks red from the tears falling as you watch him disappear around the corner. 

The conversation is still fresh in your mind at dinner with Alexander’s mom Tuesday night. She lives just outside the city in Maryland, so whenever she made her way into the city, you made it a point to meet up. 

She watches the way you’re staring at your sandwich. The intense look you’re giving the meal almost makes her laugh. “Don’t be upset with the club. We can always get you another sandwich, dear.” 

You raise your head slightly at that and let out a nervous laugh, “No, the sandwich is fine. I’m just thinking. I’m sorry, Shannon.”

Shannon lets out an understanding hum, waving you off with a simple flick of her wrist as you apologize. “Is it work?” 

You give her an easy smile, “Ah, no. It’s… confusing and probably boring; don’t worry about it.” She gives you a little look that says, ‘Come on, really?’ and it makes your smile widen. 

“When you retire, everything is confusing and boring, so lay it on me.” 

“Shannon, please, I promise you don—” 

“I will make you pay for this meal; do not force my hand.” 

“I am paying?” 

“Exactly. Now tell me what’s on your mind.” 

You slump in your seat and nod in defeat. “Alright, well,” you wet your lips nervously, trying to figure out the best way to tell her. “You remember last time I mentioned that I had that friend from the group? The genius—Spencer.” 

Shannon nods, motioning for you to keep going slowly, “Well, lately, he and I have become aware of some feelings for each other, and I–” You can feel your legs trembling, “He just doesn’t get it. I can’t do that to Alex or you. He just doesn’t understand—” 

“Sweetheart, slow down.” She held up a hand, an amused look on her face as you rambled at the speed of light. “Start over.” 

You let out a little huff, trying to calm your growing nerves. You roll your shoulders back, gaining some composure, “I have feelings for him, and I thought it was just a passing crush, but now it’s getting so messy. And he told me that he has feelings for me too, but I told him off, and we haven’t talked in four days– which would be fine if we didn’t fight, but we did— and I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know?” 

“He’s really sweet and great, but I just… I keep thinking about my love for Alex and don’t want to let go of him.” Your voice gets quiet with the admission. “I’m happy loving just him, only him.” Your voice shakes lightly, forcing your gaze down, your eyes filling with tears. 

You hated telling her this— hated telling her that your stupid heart found itself attached to someone other than her son. You mentally prepare yourself for something, anything, yet you still cringe when you feel her hand rest on yours. 

“He’s dead–”

“I know–”

“No, listen,” Shannon says sternly, watching as you lift your gaze to meet hers. “He’s dead. Every day, I have to remind myself he’s dead. I know you do, too.” She frowns for a second before she gives you a weak smile. “But, you? You’re alive. You’ve experienced a loss no one should have to experience at your age, and yet here you are. Would he be ecstatic over you falling in love with someone else? Not quite, but I know my son. He wouldn’t want you to be alone. Or worse, unhappy.” 

You blink away tears, your bottom lip trembling, “I don’t want to forget him,” 

“Who said you’re going to?” Shannon jokes lightly, giving your hand a light squeeze. After a moment, she whispers, “Knowing Alex, he probably sent Spencer your way.” 

You laugh at the idea, but the sound dissolves into a little sob, “He would.” 

Shannon brightens momentarily, “He was always jealous of how good you were at trivia night. Maybe he wanted someone to beat you for once?” 

“Spencer can!” You laugh harder than you should, but you can’t help it. You picture Alex’s face, joking about how you have too much useless knowledge in your brain. 

As your laughter dies away, a wave of anxiety rolls over you. “I was awful to him last Friday.” 

“Then make it up to him,” 

After much deliberation, you knew you would, or at least, you would die trying. The next meeting was in two weeks, which seemed too far out. After three texts, two calls, and one voicemail, you decided to go to him. 

You had been to Spencer’s apartment once before and were sure it was on this block… maybe. It was early Saturday morning, and you could only hope he would look out his window and see you pacing the sidewalk. 

But an hour passed, and the cold wind forced you into a coffee shop down the block. Shivering as you waited for your coffee, you glanced at the unread texts you sent him one last time before stuffing your phone back into your pocket. 

Clearly, he didn’t want to see you, much less talk to you. You chewed on your bottom lip, lost in thought until you resolved that seeing him at the next meeting would have to do if he didn’t text you back before then. 

And so, two weeks and no texts back later, you sat in your usual foldable seat and waited. But he never showed. Your eyes watched the doors patiently, and you counted every last participant, thinking that the next one had to be Spencer. 

But they weren’t. He was nowhere to be found. You had sat on your feelings for him for weeks, sat on with nasty comments and behavior for two weeks, and found yourself still waiting. He didn’t have to attend every meeting, but you felt even more desperate than before. Hating the feeling, you left halfway through.

It wasn’t like you could force him to talk to or forgive you. But it hurt knowing just how much you had hurt him. Were you being selfish for wanting a chance to confess to him again? Was it selfish how you looked for him in every crowd? 

The unfortunate reality of your pain was that you were so scared of falling in love again that you pushed love away before it could even touch you. You found yourself driving to Alex’s grave that night. It was out of your way, but you didn’t want to go home just to wait by the phone again. 

After parking in a nearby parking lot, you found yourself standing in the middle of a very dark, isolated cemetery. If Spencer were here, he would say how dangerous this was, maybe even throw in a statistic just to solidify his point. 

You smile, eyes adjusting in the moonlight as you look down at your dead lover’s grave. You crouch, touching a bouquet of almost-dead flowers at the foot of his grave. “Was I bad at this with you, too?” Your fingers trace the brittle petals of a dying rose. 

You can hear the crunching of gravel and slush approaching you, and a part of you freezes. As the sound gets closer, you can hear panting, your head turning cautiously to look for your rapidly approaching company. 

When you see the silhouette of a man not too far down the trail, you tense. How stupid were you to be in a secluded area in the middle of the night? You curse under your breath and stay crouched, hoping it’s just a late-night jogger passing through and that he won’t see you if you stay low. 

Your eyes stay on the figure, and you mentally go over possible escape plans when you see it— a messenger bag. What kind of serial killer or jogger wears a messenger bag? Your tense shoulders briefly relax for a second at the thought. 

Then, a hint of moonlight illuminates your huffing stranger— messy brown hair and a crooked tie. You stand, “Spencer?” You say his name when he approaches you, the moonlight letting you get a glimpse of his soft eyes for a moment. “What are you… How’d you know I’d be here? What are you doing here?” 

“You weren’t at the meeting,” He huffs, leaning over to rest his palms on his knees. 

“I–” You scoff, slightly amused. “I left early. Did you show up?” 

“No,” he admits, his tone becoming sharper as he catches his breath. “No, I–” he hesitates for a moment, “I saw your car on my way home, and I got worried, and I–” He roughly drags a hand through his curls, “You shouldn’t be in isolated places like this late at night.” 

Your shocked expression melts, and your lips quirk into a slight smile. Spencer sees this and responds sharply, “I’m being serious!”

You hold up both hands, “I know, I—” You sigh, a slight chuckle following the sound before you say, “I knew you were going to say that. I could hear your voice when I parked across the street.” 

“Maybe you should listen to it sometime,” 

You nod, and then a moment of cold silence follows. The two of you stare at each other for a long moment before you feel your lips moving against your will, “You never called,” 

Spencer can feel his heartbeat quicken, “Wasn’t aware I had to.” 

“You didn’t have to. I just would have–” You cut yourself off, nervously licking your lips. “I wanted you to.” 

Spencer stays quiet before he replies with a soft “I’m sorry,” 

You find your smile returning as you shake your head, “That’s my line,” 

He lets a little chuckle at that, ready to tell you it’s okay, when you quickly add, “I’m sorry for how I acted three weeks ago. I shouldn’t have been so cruel or close-minded, and I should have been honest with you about my feelings. I’m sorry I pushed you away. I’m sorry for implying your love for Maeve wasn’t special. Oh, Spencer,” You let out a heartbroken sigh, “I feel terrible. I was such a bad friend, and these past few weeks, all I’ve wanted to do is make it up to you.” 

You can feel the tears threatening to fill your vision, your cheeks burning in the cold as you let out a meek, “Tell me there’s something I can do to make it up to you,” 

Spencer can see your pleading eyes in the moonlight, and his chest tightens at the sight. Ignoring your calls and texts wasn’t easy, but he was convinced that it was the right thing to do. You weren’t ready to move on, and neither was he— not completely, but he didn’t want to try with anyone else. He only wanted to try with you. 

He swallows thickly when he says a sweet “You’ve already done it,” Then you’re beaming at him, and he’s right back where he was three weeks ago. As you dry your misting eyes, he softly confesses, “I watched You’ve Got Mail.” He pauses, smiling lightly when you give him a surprised look through your tears. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, so I–” He nervously moved his hands as he talked, “I watched any Romcom that I could get my hands on because I—” 

You smile as he trails off, his hands twisting together in that nervous way that tells you he’s scared to say the rest of his sentence— he’s too afraid to say he missed you. “Me too,” You confess, “I missed you, too.”

He nods, a grin on his face as he looks at you. He can feel his confession rising in his throat, his lips moving awkwardly as he tries to gain the confidence to confess to you again. 

But, before he can say anything, you’re speaking, “I don’t know if you still feel the same as you did three weeks ago, but I–” You swallow hard, clearing your throat softly. Your hands move with you as you speak, the cold making them feel slightly stiff. “For the longest time, I couldn’t imagine myself happy with anyone other than Alex.” You blow out a sigh, glancing back at his tombstone. “I thought one great love was enough— I only deserved one. I was happy with that, and I felt lucky for it.” 

You can feel yourself trembling, and you don’t know if it’s the cold or your nerves getting the better of you; nonetheless, you keep going, “But lately, I’ve been thinking— hoping really— that you’re the expectation.” You squeeze your eyes tight at that last bit, trying to calm your breathing as you wait for his response. 

“If anyone deserves more than one great love, it’s you.” Spencer’s voice sounds closer, soft. 

When you open your eyes, you realize he is closer, inches from you. You gaze up at him, giving him a light smile when he whispers, “We can take it slower,” 

“I like slower.” 

He laughs and nods, “Me too,” he holds out a cold hand for you to take, “Let me walk you to your car?” 

You stare at his palm, watching your cold fingers intertwine with his. The sensation makes the tips of your fingers buzz with anticipation. You feel his hand gives yours a slight squeeze before guiding you to the parking lot across the street. 

It’s not the last time you walk side-by-side, holding hands in the middle of the cold East Coast winter, and he’s determined to make sure it’s not your last. 

And whenever anyone asks how the two of you met, Spencer lets you tell the story, his hand slipping into yours as you say, “Well, it’s a bit of a long story.”

[writingsbytee]

SEXUAL HEALING

TERRY RICHMOND x BLACK FEM READER

WARNING / TRIGGERS: Reader is DEPRESSED, no thoughts of self harm or un-aliving herself. Babygirl is just having a depressive episode. Depressed themes, Sexual themes, explicit sexual content; dirty talk; soft Dom,

SUMMARY: Reader is depressed and Terry fucks her out of it

WORD COUNT: 3.8k

*Remember you are in charge of your own consumption. 18+ up audiences only; minora please don’t interact!*

 *Also, this is complete fiction. I'm writing about the reader’s depression simply based on my experiences and knowledge of depression. I’m in NO WAY saying that this is what depression is for every individual. This is a safe space. If you or someone you know is struggling with their mental health please reach out to your local crisis center so that they can provide resources. Read with care. Love you guys <3*

This hasn’t been proofread

You groaned as your phone rang yet again, reaching out from under your blankets, your hand blindly slapping your bedside table in search of the device. Checking to see who called, a pained sigh leaves your lips. Terry, your boyfriend called you 4 times in the past hour. Deciding to put him out of his misery you answer the call.

“Hello?”, you say, not even bothering to hide the quiver in your voice.

“Babygirl? What’s wrong?,” Terry asked, his voice sounding frantic. 

A watery sigh leaves your lips, “I’m having a moment Terry, I’ll be ok. It’s just taking a little bit longer for me to come out of it.” 

I hear Terry’s door shut on the other line, “I’m on my way sweet girl, Daddy’s coming”

A muffled sob leaves your mouth at Terry’s words. Always willing to stop whatever he’s doing to help you fight the demons constantly plaguing your mind. Religious therapy and an antidepressant regimen seemed to keep the dark thoughts at bay. Every now and then the debilitating thoughts would come back rendering you useless. Your apartment desperately needed a deep clean as well as your room. Your bed becoming a cesspool, you slept, ate, and cried in the same spot for a little over a week now. 

Rolling onto your back you let out a deep sigh, wanting to be normal and not a basket case full of emotions. 

45 MINUTES LATER

You could hear your front door open and close, signaling that Terry arrived. You heard him set bags down in your kitchen before his light footfalls made his way to your room. He knocked twice before peeking his head in. Terry’s small smile dropped when he saw the state of you and your room. It broke his heart to see you this way.

“Aww honey, I’m here,” Terry said walking toward you. Tear tracks making their way down your face and silent sobs wracked your body.

“I’m so sorry, Terry. I didn’t mean to make you come all the way down here,” You said, covering your face with your hands. Terry gently grabbed your hands, removing them from your face. 

“Sweet girl, never apologize because the air gets a little too heavy for you. That’s why I’m here to take some of the load off,” Terry said with a small smile. Your  gentle green-eyed giant, you  grabbed your glasses, putting them on.

You brought a hand up to his cheek, “You’re too good for this world Terry Richmond. Thank you, for being what I never knew I needed,” you say with all the sincerity you can muster. 

Terry’s eyes shine with unshed tears, “you’ll never have to go through these feelings alone again. Baby when I said I wasn’t going anywhere I meant that. You’re stuck with me sweetheart,” Terry finishes, with a watery smile of his own. He gently raises me into a sitting position.

“Here’s what I want you to do. I brought you your favorite body wash shampoo, conditioner and those wax things you like so much. Go take a shower, wash your hair,pamper yourself. I’m going to get started on your sheets. Okay babygirl?”, he asked. Your eyes practically turned into hearts looking at Terry. 

A small smile formed on your lips as you said a gentle, “Okay, Daddy.”

His smile widened, leaning forward to place a kiss on your forehead. “There’s my girl. Now go get cleaned up, I’ll take care of everything else.” You nodded, rising slowly, and made your way into the bathroom. You didn’t dare glance at yourself in the mirror. Not in the mood for the thoughts to take hold again. Turning on the shower as hot as it would get you stepped in, ready to wash the bad thoughts away. 

Meanwhile, Terry was in your room replacing your dirty sheets, putting them in the wash, and tidying up around your apartment. He hated that he couldn’t save you from your thoughts, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try. He understood that everyone’s trauma affected them differently. His put him in attack mode, while yours forced you to shut down. 

As you washed your hair, you could feel your sense of self slowly returning. You found peace in taking care of yourself. Detangling your curls felt as if you were brushing away all the bad thoughts. Exfoliating was like scrubbing away your impurities, leaving you shiny and new. You don’t know why you couldn’t muster up the strength to take the 15 foot walk to your bathroom. But that’s depression in a nutshell, making the most mundane tasks feel like climbing mount everest. You spent at least an hour in the bathroom, when you emerged you felt like a different person. Your heart warmed at the sight of your room, new sheets adorned your bed with a new hello kitty plushie and pajama set.

Exiting your room, you start searching for your boyfriend. Finding him in your living room playing your favorite vinyl and watering your plants. You will yourself not to cry at Terry’s selflessness, you just run up behind him wrapping his torso in a hug. 

“Hey, baby. Feeling better?”he asks, turning to face you. You place a kiss right above his heart, looking up at him you nod.

“Yeah honey, thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you” you say, staring up at him adoringly.  

Terry pet your head lovingly, “Let’s hope you never have to find out. Now go make yourself comfortable, I ordered your favorite vietnamese take-out and I’m going to rub your feet until it gets here.”

A warm gooey feeling spreads from your head to your toes. A slow grin taking over your face at your adonis of a boyfriend takes care of your body, mind, and soul. Settling into your sectional, you wiggle your toes playfully urging him closer. Terry chuckles through his nose, making his way toward you. Sliding down beside you , he grabbed both of your legs, placing them on his lap.

“Relax baby, Daddy’s here now and I’m going to take care of you,” Terry said, running his hands up your bare calves. His touch warms your skin instantly. A content sigh leaves your lips as you rest your head on the arm of your sofa.

“Good girl,” Terry said, grabbing your right foot. He began slowly, just caressing your feet adding a tickle here and there pulling small giggles from your lips. Terry started to work on your foot starting slowly on your instep, applying light pressure. Then he moved to your arch applying pressure that was almost painful, causing a gasp to leave your lips.

“You’ve got a knot here, be patient I’ll work it out,” Terry said, digging in deeper. An involuntary moan leaves your lips, the release of the tenson expelling through your lips. Terry smirked, his plan was working. This kept going for a while, Terry expertly massaging your feet, and you moaning like he was massaging somewhere else. You're getting wetter by the minute. 

The doorbell interrupts your massage as a groan leaves your lips, “I was just starting to relax,” you whined.  Terry lets out a chuckle before getting up. Leaning to kiss your forehead, “You’ll have plenty of time to relax later, trust me.” And with that, he heads toward the door to grab the food. Terry doesn’t let you lift a finger while he plates the food for you two. Just advising you to find something “good to watch.” With a smirk, you put on your favorite show at the moment, ‘True Blood.’ Terry liked the show surprisingly, being the first of your boyfriends to take an interest in YOUR interests. What he didn’t like was how googly-eyed you got over Alcide. As trivial as it was, he wasn't going to sit and watch you drool over another man. 

Plating your food,

Terry brought it to you. Plopping down next to you on the couch with a plan in mind, Terry just sat back and watched you enjoy your food. A small satisfied sigh leaves your lips at the first bite. 

“Mmm, it’s so good! Thank you baby” you say, leaning in to kiss Terry’s cheek. He could feel his cheeks warm at your gratitude, placing a hand on your thigh and squeezing. Your breath hitched when Terry’s hand refused to leave your thigh. Instead tracing small circles while you ate. 

After finishing your food you and Terry cuddled up on your sofa with a blanket. Rubbing his chest you say, “Thank you for everything Terry, I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

Terry looks down at you grasping your chin forcing your brown eyes to meet his mossy green ones. “I’m just doing my job baby. What kind of man would I be if I let my woman suffer alone? I’m here for you, I love you, and I’ll always make sure you’re taken care of.” Terry’s hand migrated to the back of your neck, pulling you in excruciatingly slow. He watched your face change. Eyes become low, lips parting, and your breathing turns shallow. 

Terry inches impossibly closer, your lips a hair’s width apart, “What do you want, pretty girl?”

“Kiss me, please?” you ask, fingers coming up to grip his t-shirt. A small devious smirk makes its way onto Terry’s face as he leans down, lips brushing against yours. The anticipation is killing you. You two were practically sharing the same breath, yet Terry wouldn’t close the gap and lay one on you. 

“Please, Daddy? Let me thank you, I’ve been good haven't I?” you ask, looking up at Terry with the doe eyes that he loves so much. 

A groan leaves his lips as Terry places your bowl on the coffee table “You know what that look does to me, baby. C’mere,” and then his lips are on you. A surprised moan leaves your lips as you pull Terry closer, sucking his lips between yours. He grabs your hips positioning you on his lap, right atop his growing bulge. 

“How are you feeling honey, still sad? What can Daddy do?” Terry asks, his hand grasping and pulling at the fat of your ass. Grinding you against thick dick. 

“Touch me, please Daddy”, you whine. You could feel yourself soaking through the seat of your sleep shorts, having forgone underwear. Terry smiles against your lips, “I am touching you pretty girl”. Pulling back for air, you move your attention to his thick neck. Placing wet open mouthed kisses there migrating up to his ear, nipping and sucking at the lobe. You hear Terry’s breath stutter drawing a smile from your lips. Terry pulls back in time to see the bright dopey smile on your face and he places a kiss on your nose.

Pulling your shirt over your head, Terry's eyes lock on plump mahogany breasts and chocolate nipples. 

“Fuck, pretty girl. You’re not playing fair,” Terry says, head dropping onto the back of the sofa. A soft giggle leaves your lips. You slither up Terry’s body like a cat in heat, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“C’mon Daddy don’t you wanna feel how wet I am for you? Just for you,” you whisper into Terry’s ear, finishing with a lick. A small ‘fuck’ leaves Terry’s lips as his hand comes cracking down on your ass forcing a small yelp to leave your lips. 

“Keep that up baby and I’ll give you exactly what you’re asking for,” Terry said, playing with your shorts. Pulling them halfway down to jiggle your ass or tugging them high up your ass giving your clit the much needed friction you craved. You two were making out like porn stars, sloppily, lips glistening with spit. You pulled back to look at Terry, his eyes half mast filled with need and desire for you. You’re positive your face looks the same. Terry picks you up off his lap, setting you next to him on the sofa as he gets up. Turning on your sunset lamp and turning off the lights to create an ethereal glow around your living room. Then he moves pieces of your sectional together making it a day bed of some sort. 

“Strip babygirl, I want you naked by the time I get back,” Terry commands, then picks up your leftovers, and heads back to the kitchen. It was embarrassing how fast you threw the sticky shorts off. Your pussy was talking and Terry hadn’t even touched you yet. As you wait for Terry, you start massaging your tits. Nipples forming tight peaks, tugging and pulling creates a throb you feel straight down to your clit.  Small moans started leaving your lips. The ache between your thighs growing almost painful as you whined, waiting for your man to return and fuck you stupid. After five minutes you almost debate finding him.

“Terrrrryyyy,” you cry out. When you get no response you peek over your shoulder, when you don’t see him you decide to start on your own. Sliding your hands down your body, you’re about to reach your pussy when Terry’s hand grabs yours, pulling a gasp from you. 

“I said strip, when did I tell you to touch my pussy?”Terry's looking down his nose at you. 

“I’m sorry, Daddy I need you please!” You whine, sitting up. Terry makes his way around the sofa looking like a lion stalking his prey. He stands in front of you crossing his arms, a cup in one hand. 

“Spread those legs for me mama,let me see my pussy,” Terry said. Your legs fell open immediately the quiet ‘schlick’ heard between the two of you. Terry’s eyes darken, the color of a stormy sea and he takes a step toward you. 

“Hands behind your back sweetheart, you know the drill,” Terry purrs, crawling on the sofa. Taking a long sip from his cup before setting it down. Like an obedient little slut you put your hands behind your back with a small smile on your face, “Like this papa?” you asked. 

Terry dropped his head and groaned, “I’m trying to make you wait babygirl, I’m two seconds away from burying my face in that sweet pussy,” Terry said, his voice sounding like he was in pain. 

“C’mon papa look at how ready she is for you, she couldn’t wait for you to get your hands on her,” you scooched your ass further down the sofa, practically planting your pussy on his chin. With a growl, Terry was on top of you, hand clutching your cunt. 

Terry started massaging your clit with his fingers releasing a relieved moan from your lips. 

“Unh Terry, it feels good!” you said, head thrown back, and your back arched. 

A devilish smile formed on Terry’s lips. He loved the sounds you made when he played with you. 

“Make that sound again baby,” Terry said, tonguing your nipple. 

“Unh! Daddy!Take your pants off please. I want to feel you” you moan, gripping Terry’s neck. Pulling him down to lock your lips. Terry explored your pussy like it was his first time. Experimenting with how wet he could make you. Sliding his pants and boxers down he freed his monster of a dick. 

“I’m going to fuck you baby,but first tell me how bad you want it” Terry said, his finger picking up the pace on your clit.

“I want you so bad Terry,” you say leaning up to peck his lips over and over. 

A small chuckle leaves his lips, “Yeah? How bad? Let Daddy know sweetheart.” Terry’s working your clit between his fingers, the slick sounds permeating through your home. 

“Fuck Daddy I want you to take care of me like you always do . You’re such a good provider, always making sure I have what I need! Ouuu! Baby, right there! Yes! You’re going to make me cum, fuck!,” You moan out, your voice rising in pitch letting Terry know you were close. 

“Then come on my tongue sweet girl,” Terry leans down and takes your clit in his mouth. Your mouth falling open in a silent scream as your breath staccatos

“You look so pretty, baby. I love how wet this pussy gets for me. You ganna let Daddy fuck the bad thoughts away. Want me to make it feel better sweetie. Because I can, you know Daddy can help,” Terry slips two fingers into, causing your soul to leave your body. 

Combined with his suction on your clit, you stood no chance against the orgasm that rocked your body. “Oouuu Terry! Yesssss!”, you moaned as Terry worked your orgasm out of you.

“That’s right pretty girl, give me that orgasm,” Terry said, adding another finger. You were beyond seeing stars at this point. There was a full milky way galaxy dancing behind your eyes. Terry had a dark smirk on his face, loving the effect he had on you. He loved making you come, how you gave yourself over to him completely. He was surprised when you forced his fingers out of your pussy, a harsh stream of liquid following. A high pitched moan left your lips as your body shook.

“Yes Honey! That’s it!” Terry moaned, slapping your clit a few times. Your body shook and shuddered in the aftermath of your orgasm. Vision hazy as you tried to center yourself. Terry stripped off the rest of his clothes and hovered over you, his warmth seeping into your skin. 

“Hey, look at me baby,”Terry brought his finger to your face caressing you. Your eyes refocused on Terry’s soft ones, a small smile forming on your lips. Terry mirrored your expression, leaning down to press his lips against yours in a passionate sloppy kiss. Teeth and tongues clashing in a frantic meet of mouths. Both of you are trying to convey your love for one another. 

“Papa, I need you inside me” you wine against Terry’s lips. Terry doesn’t need to be told twice, he positions himself at your entrance and eases in. Both your lips part, needy moans releasing from your lips.

“Terry, Terry, Terry! Oh my god!” You moan as he sets a punishing rhythm. Punching your cervix with the fat mushroom head of his dick. You lose yourself in the feeling of being fucked by him. 

“How’s that feel baby, can you feel how much Daddy loves his sweet girl?” Terry asked. How he could ask you questions while digging your shit out like this is beyond you. You just moan and nod, his thrusts stealing the breath from your lungs.

“Words baby. I need to hear you say it. You’ll do that for daddy won’t you?” Terry asks, bringing his hand up to your throat applying slight pressure. The delicious feeling pulling a needy whine from your lips. Terry was hitting all your spots and you couldn’t think.

“Yes daddy, I feel it. I love it. I love you,” you moan your eyes slowly making their descent to the back of your skull. Terry loved when you started babbling on his dick, saying any and everything to please him. And please him it did. 

Terry felt like a man possessed, your pleasure the only thing on his mind determined to coax as many orgasms out of you as possible. He was going at you like a man on a mission. The push and pull, the slick sounds of him going in and out of your pussy driving him insane.  

“I love you more baby. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you with the dark thoughts, but I’m here now Daddy’s ganna fuck the depression out of you,” Terry said raising one of your knees so he could hit you even deeper.

You bring your hands up, grabbing Terry’s ass pulling him deeper inside you. “Baby you’re going to make me cummm!,” you moan out. Terry moans in your ear, pulling you in for another sloppy kiss. Terry releases your lips, leaning back to look at you. 

“Open your eyes pretty girl, I love the way you look when you come for me,” Terry was long past close. He wanted to cum so bad, but he wouldn’t, not until he felt your velvet walls pulse around his thick dick. 

“Cum with me Daddy! I need to feel you fill me up!,” You say reaching for Terry’s ears, rubbing them softly. Terry’s eyes start to roll in the back of his head. He loves it when you play with his ears.

“You’re so good to me Daddy, always taking care of me. You’re making me feel so good, thank you Daddy! Thank you for fucking the depression out of…” you never got to finnish your sentence. Orgasm hitting you like a bus. Terry was ejected from your pussy with the force, you squirted so hard your vision went white as a high pitched moan left your lips. Terry started in awe. He stood above you jerking his dick.

“Fuck that was so sexy baby I’m about to come,” Terry said. That all too familiar ache forming in his abdomen. Balls heavy and tight with the need to release. Your eyes regained their focus in just enough time to watch Terry erupt all over you. Painting you with his cum, a small smile formed on your face as his warm release landed on your breasts, tummy and legs. 

“Mm that was a big one daddy, thank you,” you moan, collecting his essence to taste. A moan leaves your lips as the salty, earthy musk hits your taste buds. Terry leans down, placing another kiss to your lips. 

“How do you feel now babygirl?” Terry asks, using the spare napkins to clean you up. 

You place a kiss on Terry’s cheek, “Much better Daddy, but I think I’m still a little sad” you said, smirking up at him. Terry shakes his head at you with a playful smile on his lips.

“Well you better go grab us some waters babygirl, I’m not done with you yet,” Terry said before lifting you over his shoulders to carry you to your room.

THE END <3

I think this might be the fastest I’ve ever written anything. I just really wanted to create a vulnerable piece, and I LOVE how this piece turned out. This is supposed to be a one shot but that’s TBD as of now. As always constructive criticism is encouraged but please take it easy on me, I’m sensitive.

TAGLIST: 

@blackgurlnhermoods @megamindsecretlair @dxddykenn @pinkkycherrish @pinkkycherrish @episodes-ff @kimuzostar @kianaleani @uzumaki-rebellion @urfavblackbimbo @shallipii @greatpandagladiator @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @theereina @pocketsizedpanther @mymindisneverhere @onherereading @nayaesworld @earthchica @skyesthebomb @gg-trini @blyffe @melalsworld @mogul93 @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @sweettea-and-honeybutter @diaries-of-me @simplyzeeka @kumkaniudaku

[queerdaisyjane]

Yes sir, don’t be alarmed. Yes, I’m from the agency. Yes I’ll get my ID for you in a minute. But you know why I’m here, right? Yes, you’ve been identified as a man who will be forcibly transitioned. Yes, I understand. You probably don’t want this. After all you’ve been married and at least straight acting and appearing your whole life. But now under the new laws, your wife has the opportunity to turn you in. As a candidate for gender reassignment, that’s right. After the pandemic with so many people dead, there’s a need to repopulate the planet. We need far fewer men and many more women of breeding age. That’s what makes you a good candidate. 27 years old, works out, relatively good physical and mental health, some tendencies toward feminine behavior, although well disguised for the sake of social convention. Children with your wife, no? Yes, I can see why you’re a good candidate. Don’t worry, darling. The procedures are relatively painless, although they take some time to heal. Yes you will be given high dose feminizing hormones to start. After you start to develop primary feminine physical characteristics— thicker hair, the onset of feminine breast tissue development, the widening of your hips to accommodate childbirth, softening skin, atrophy of male muscle tone, plumper, shapelier bottom, shrinking of male genitalia, mental and physical receptivity to male sexual advances— after all that, I’ll take you to the surgery center and stay with you through your recovery. Yes that’s where they’ll do your castration and your sexual reassignment surgeries. Yes, I generally assist with your castration and you’ll be lucid throughout the procedure. It helps with mental acceptance of your new role, and with my role as your master, so you know that I’m the one emasculating you. In addition to a vaginoplasty, you’ll receive laser hair removal, adams apple shaving, and vocal cord tightening to raise your voice several octaves. You’ll have the option to receive supplemental breast implants, although I expect you may want to wait to make that decision until you have gotten used to your natural breasts anyway. You’ll also have the option to decorate your body with tattoos and piercings, in addition to your mandatory identification tattoo. Yes it goes at the base of your scalp under your hairline where it’s not too noticeable. You’ve been staring at my penis this whole time—do you have a question about that? Yes OK then. Yes, I will be the one to take your virginity. Yes, in all the ways. You will learn to fellate me and not only allow me to have vaginal and anal sex with you, but to enjoy it immensely. Yeah you will want to cum as a girl. Finally, since you’ll be a fully biologically, correct woman, you will be fertile and have a monthly ovulation cycle. In order to test the functionality of your body, the doctors will trigger your menstruation and ovulation cycle while still in the hospital. And you will learn how to couple with a man, with me, while you’re there. Since you’re being reassigned in order to be a breeder, you will not have a hymen and so your first time will not be painful, other than the stretching of your vaginal tissue and anal ring. Yes thank you. I do have a nice sized penis. I’ve been told it’s rather ideal, big enough to trigger orgasms, but not so large as to do physical damage, particularly when having anal sex. Yes it gets about half as big again as I get an erection. Yes you’ll learn to pleasure me with your mouth and hands, in addition to your vagina and your anus. Yes, if all goes well and we match well, then you’ll become my wife and join my household. Oh I have several wives yes. It is a virtual certainty that you will be pregnant when you leave the reassignment center. This is highly desirable. Yes I realize it’s very shocking, but I think you’re going to love being a woman. I’ve seen the digital projections of what you look like. And you’re going to be stunning. Congratulations sweetheart. I can’t wait to see you when you are in a family way.

[marsdql]

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ p. childhood boyfriend!sim jaeyun ⤫ 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳﹒wc: 9.2к﹒g. romantic drama, emotional romance, angst, slowburn, light fluff﹒cw. emotional distress, ghosting and abandonment, suidical thoughts, mental health struggles, manipulation, past trauma, reconciliation and healing, triggers of emotional abuse, toxicity, high levels of angst and emotional intensity, mild references to past toxic relationships. @wheretheheckis-ssaki

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ synopsis ﹒During middle school, you and a boy in your friend’s class—named Sim Jaeyun—were inseparable, you both had your own friendg roup, he was a popular guy on the soccer team while you were a normal girl, yet would talk to each other on the phone everyday the second the bell rang. You both eventually fell for each other but had to keep your relationship private due to drama with girls. A year later—after everyone found out about you guys, he unexpectedly distanced—then disappeared. 10 years later, when you move to France for a few weeks due to a project in uni, you and Jake cross paths once again. (NOT PROOFREAD)

Sim Jaeyun, he was the best boyfriend I could ever think of having, he was my first love, definitely. It started in the seventh grade, when he was in class 7G—the same class as my friends. I remember when my bestfriend first told me about how he’d catch people playing Roblox in class and signal it to the entire class—that’s when I started teasing him—he was my best friends locker buddy, so I’d see him everyday.

Everytime id see him—when he would be arguing about something stupid with his classmates, I’ll snarl at him, “shut up Jake! Go play your Roblox!”. For some odd reason, he was REALLY talkative, but the second I’d say that, he’d just shut up. He’d smile at me and continue packing his things to get to the bus, forgetting about the entire conversation he had with the people next to him.

Until one day, another normal day of me telling him the same line, he actually responded this time. ‘How about you go play Roblox, huh?’ He said. ‘Okay, I will then, make sure you join me in jayjay simulator!!!’ I replied—I don’t know why I said “jayjay”, it just came out—soon enough, that would be the name all the girls would start calling him—because of me. As I walked away with my bestfriend—heading to the bus, I whispered to her, “hey, you know, Jake is kinda cute.”

— rest below cut ! —

Later that day, I decided to add him on my phone, message him—tease him a little bit more, he was funny—his reactions. He wasn’t like other boys, when you’d argue with him, he’d do it in a goofy way, he wouldn’t say actual harmful stuff—not to me Atleast.

- Jake: who is this?

- You: You didn’t join me in jayjay simulator. :(

- Jake: Hehe, yes I did!!!

He was so cute, even his messages were adorable. Whenever I’d playfully roleplay and fake random situations, people would call me childish, but with him, he’d play along, fully convincing eachother that everything we said was real.

I was determined to talk to this guy everyday, I’d find a random topic that has been spreading around our grade so that everyday, after school, I’d message him, using it as an excuse to talk to him. And it worked! I noticed that he’d even find some stuff too, so that he could message me. Once, he asked me for anime recommendations even though everyone knows him and his friendgroup hated anime, they made fun of it—except for blue lock of course—since it’s football related.

During my pe class, his friends that were in my class were destroying me in badminton—they weren’t that good…..but I just sucked at the sport! He peeked in, hoping to waste time from his class, and I screamed “Jake!!! Help me, your friends are bullying me…”

he was such a nice person to me, I’d tease him and say that he was rude in order to keep talking to him—in my mind, if I was accusing him of something, it’d be another reason for him to keep responding to me— and of course, it worked, I’m just a genius.

We were genuinely so funny, we both wanted to talk to eachother whenever we had the chance, but didn’t know how. Our biggest highlight was when we’d send random emojis to eachother for 4 hours straight just because we had no conversation anymore.

On February 14th, at the valentines dance, we were pressured to hug by the crowd. At this point, I had the biggest crush on him but nobody knew. Since he was popular and quiet talk compared to the other boys(puberty hit him the earliest), most of my friends fancied him. I was stuck, how could I tell my friends that I liked him first, when I never told them? Anyway, we didn’t hug, we’re both so awkward and to be honest, I’m glad we didn’t, it’s too cringe hugging like that!

When we got home, he messaged me, telling me he’s sorry he didn’t hug me because….. his teacher was watching and didn’t want him to tell his parents??? What a stupid excuse… That’s not the point, Y/n get back into the topic! I don’t remember how we got to the conversation but we were talking about crushes, who we liked. I kid you not, it took us 3 hours to confess, and it was so obvious we were saying we liked each other! We kept asking each other for hints, obvious ones. But eventually, we both said each others name at the same time. I remember so vividly that I was playing cards with my brother, unable to focus because of the joy I was feeling after reading my name pop up.

Now that I look back at it, I realize how mature we were for our age, even though we confessed, we didn’t do anything about it, we didn’t start dating or anything—just got really awkward, stopped talking in real life after that…

Fast forward the summer of 7th grade, when we got together July 2nd at 2am. To be honest, it wasn’t the way I expected it to be.

A girl from my grade messaged me:

- g/n: Hey! You’re close to Jake, right?

- You: Hi g/n! And yeah, I am, why?

- g/n: well… me and him have been messaging for 2 weeks now and I kinda like him. I was hoping you’d help me?

I beg your pardon? Me? Help you? I don’t even know this girl, all I knew was that she was some popular girl in a big friendgroup. That friendgroup was always around jake’s, they craved their attention so much—it disgusted me. But, it’s not like he’s my boyfriend, who am I to say no, maybe he likes her.

I helped her that entire night—telling her to text him certain things that only I knew he’d enjoy. They started doing the same thing me and him did on Valentine’s Day, guessing each other’s crushes, it took me aback, I self sabotaged myself—for no reason at all. During all of it, he was messaging me at the same time, acting a sweet to me. For no reason at all, he sent me this out of context message, “Y/n, I enjoy messaging you a lot.” Seconds later,

- g/n: He was taking too long to tell me his crush so I just told him I like him and asked if he wants to get together!

What? Did I just read that right… I acted as if I didn’t see her message and went to respond to jake’s instead. “Oh really?” I questioned him, my heart was beating so fast at this point, I didn’t know what was going to happen, it has been months and we’re still in a talking stage, surely he wouldn’t get with a girl he started talking to just 2 weeks ago, right? That’s what I thought until another message popped up.

- g/n: GIRL OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU HE JUST SAID YES OMGOMG.

the second she said that, he responded to me, “yeah, I really do, you’re my favourite person to talk to.” Oh heck no. I’m hysterically sobbing—what the hell?

Okay I can’t do this deep detail stuff, fast forward again—he told me and the girl goodnight—well actually, he only told the girl goodnight, I’m the one who told him goodnight before he could say anything else because I was so close to blocking him. But, I couldn’t hold it in, I had to confront him.

- You: Jake, I know you’re not asleep, respond

- Jake: What’s up?

- You: Tell me now, who’s your crush?

- Jake: you already know who

- You: no I don’t, who is it

- Jake: you

- You: then why did you just ask out g/n?

- Jake: who told you

- You: it doesn’t matter who told me, answer me.

- Jake: I promise you I’ll tell you when you tell me who told you

I tried so hard to keep my composure, but I told him everything. Then, I asked him politely, “who do you want? Me or g/n?” no intention in making him choose between us, I genuinely wanted to know because I didn’t want to be lead on if he liked g/n—and I didn’t want g/n to be lead on in this relationship if he liked me. I never made him choose between us, I simply asked him who he liked because he just agreed to dating a girl 2 hours ago and is now telling me he likes me, anyone in my situation would’ve done that, right?

- Jake: you I pick you

- Jake: I want you

- Jake: I’m so sorry I was just desperate for someone and I thought you liked one of my friends at this point, I was so desperate I just agreed to her.

We got together right after he broke up with her the following morning—maybe it was kind of stupid of us to do it so soon, but we were both waiting in eachother since the day we confessed all those months ago, it was summer, everything felt right, we had a huge conversation that night and talked about eachother and all our hidden secrets til 4am. In that conversation, we also made it clear that we would keep our relationship private because he had friends who liked me and I also had multiple who liked him.

Riingg ! — back into reality.

8:00am, you get up, brush your teeth, and your hair, wear a basic outfit you barely looked at before picking, and walk to the train station—waiting a few minutes for it to arrive.

There goes your alarm, woah, you just experienced your entire love story with Jake again, in a dream—you almost thought it was real. You're now 22, can’t believe that all happend 10 years ago. It feels as if it happend yesterday. Although, a lot has changed since then, You're not the same as before, you arent in middle school, or high school at all—but rather studying medicine in one of your dream universities. Your personality has changed a lot, the way you act has matured a lot aswell—you now know that you don’t need to be a brat in order to get people’s attention, hah…

Although your life has changed, the place to where your mind wanders hasn’t. You still remember the time you and Jake risked a day to go on a field trip downtown to a haunted house in the 8th grade—right after summer. You remember all the stares you got as you walked together—not even holding hands or anything, just simply walking. Everyone would ship you guys together—yet got so mad when they suspected that you two were dating.

A few days—not even—a few hours after the field trip, pictures of me and him were spreader everywhere. I was officially done for. My friends had left me a little before it all, I was already dealing with that loss—and now, I had to deal with the entire population of girls in my grade hating on me—simply for hanging out with a friend everyone knew I was close to.

I just didn’t get it. Everyone would ship us, everyone knew we were close, we didn’t even kiss—or hold hands—or hug—or anything! Why did everyone get so mad? They didn’t know or get the confirmation that we were dating—so why did I get ignored by everyone so secretively? Nobody talked to me about it, rumours spread about me and only me—about Jake—just me. The worse thing was, I didn’t have a say in anything. Nobody could say anything to my face, it was all behind my back, nobody dared to say anything while I was around, I never found out what they said—only small details of my last remaining friends that would overhear small stuff from crowds.

That’s basically how my entire 8th grade was like. I know some people would see it as a compliment that nobody could say anything to my friend—not even humiliate or bully me for it, but I felt as if it was the biggest curse ever. I never had a chance to speak about it, talk my feelings.

The worse part is—Jake said it was going to be okay, he didn’t care about what people thought about us. But just a month after the entire incident—he ghosted me for two weeks, came back to say sorry then did it again for two weeks. Then, it became a month and came back later to talk about how he was moving to France at the end of the year. I knew about it already, I was the only person he told, but it felt so much wise because he was talking about it during a period where he was just constantly ghosting me.

It was soon going to be his birthday so I decided to send him a huge paragraph:

I’ve deleted every single person off my Snapchat to make sure we keep that “you and Jake have been each other's number one best friend for 2 months!” Even though it’s been almost a year since we had it, you know it only changes from 2 weeks, 2 months and two years. Yet still, you lost it. So so busy of you to lose that feature, texting someone else. I saw you online for a good 3 hours. How are you busy?

I said I don’t mind if you’re busy because we each have our own lives, but you’re completely ghosting me.

I can’t take a single apology from you anymore it makes me even more angry and frustrated I hate how much you take advantage of me because you know I’ll be the first to say “it’s alright” or “don’t think about it too much, I forgive you” and completely forget about every single breakdown I’ve had because of you.

I hate all of your sorry messages I hate the way I felt so happy each time you apologize even though you never changed, I hate when I begged you to stop calling you a bad boyfriend even though you are not only a bad boyfriend but the worst newest person that entered my life, I hate how much I can’t stop loving you despite all of the pain and hatred I’m getting from you, I hate how much I miss the times you were actually excited to text me, I hate it when I actually believed that you’d love me forever, I hate it when we talked about our future together and how we both prayed to be soulmates, I hate how you’re always the first thing that comes to mind when I wake up, do something, cry, laugh, lay down, work, and every single other thing I do in my life. I hate how much I love you more than you love me and I hate even more how much I’m aware of it. I hate the night you killed me inside and still found a way to make me happy in the end with your tricks. I hate how happy you look in real life when I see you with your friends knowing I have one friend and always have to plan ahead if she’s not here, how I have problems with everyone and even that current friend I’m not happy around, compared to you and your amazing friend group where everyone loves you and you love them.

I hate how you still manage to have a smile on your face even when we’re not texting. I don’t understand how much I hate you right now but it’s not hate as in how much I hate my old friends, it’s a hate of sadness and of “how could you do this to me” hate. I hate you so much I can’t get rid of you. I love you too much and that’s why I hate you. I hope to one day look back at my 8th grade and hopefully say that all this pain was all worth it in the end because I’ve ruined my childhood so much 7-8th grade because of you.

Tomorrow January 12 2024 will be the day me and you met last year. We’ve known each other for a year. Why does it feel like I’ve known you my whole life and I’ve felt miserable since birth? I can't do this anymore.

I wish I could be as happy as you when you’re with your friends, I wish I could be as careless as you, I wish I could go months without texting their partner just like you, I wish I didn’t need to worry if someone’s going to leave me or not, I wish I could have peace and calmness in my life, I wish I had friends I actually enjoyed, I wish I didn’t need to feel so lonely all the time, I wish I didn’t have to look down whenever I see you in the hallways so that I don’t embarrass myself, I wish I wasn’t always so angry, I wish I didn’t care so much about everything, I wish I wasn’t sensitive, I wish I was crying right now, I wish I could leave and forget everyone I met last and this year including you, I wish I didn’t start talking to you, I wish I was your first and only option, I wish I didn’t think of you everytime a song came up, I wish I didn’t think of you when I see something that I know you like, I wish I could find an end to all the things that come up to mind that don’t stop flowing when I’m writting these, I wish I didn’t waste all that money on you, I wish that Snapstreak I paid back for because you lost it, wasn’t lost again because you just didn’t feel like doing it anymore, I wish I didn’t cry to sad songs because they remind me of you, I wish I didn’t see myself in every mentally unstable situation, I wish I could go to sleep peacefully, I wish you were there when I needed you most, I wish you felt the way I felt, I wish you experienced the stuff I went through, I wish you could understand how I feel, I wish you would listen to me for once, I wish you’d understand the things I feel, I wish you knew how much I’m hurting, I wish I could tell someone about all my problems without feeling guilty afterwards, I wish I could shut my mouth up and stop talking so much especially when nobody enjoys it, I wish you’d snap-text me the way we used to, I wish you’d randomly tell me how much you love me like before, i wish you would beg me for forgiveness when you’d forget to reply for like 5 mins unlike how you leave me on delivered on purpose for 2 days now, I wish you felt grateful for me still being here, I wish I could move places and forget everything, I wish my sins weren’t all on my back even though I’m trying to move on, i wish I could move on from you, I wish I could forget about you the way you so easily forgot about me, I wish I could go to sleep without crying, I wish I could stop listening to my thoughts, I wish everyone would like me like you, I wish you’d understand everything and everyone I lost because I was with you, I wish you’d see how much people hate me because I’m with you and they were jealous, I wish you realize that i didn't care about how I have no friends because I knew I’d be able to talk to u when I get back home, that’s why I’m hurting so much now.

I wish you could ignore the girls that try to hit you up, just like how I do with the boys that simply want to be my friend, I wish you understood how stupidly I miss you, I wish you could treat me how I wish a man could treat me, I wish you’d never leave to France, I wish you never find a new person in France, I wish you’d understand how I can’t live without you anymore and it’s all your fault, I wish you’d see and understand that I feel so worried because I don’t want to lose you, I wish you’d comprehend that I wouldn’t get jealous for no reason and that I was overprotective but rather that you’re my first love and I’m scared of losing you, I wish you’d understand how much I try to talk to you and be around you, I wish you know and see how I finish all my work early or do it later just to try and be able to talk to you as much as I can, I wish you’d know how I’m writing all of this right now instead of revising for my test tomorrow. I wish I wouldn’t feel so tired after crying about you for just a few minutes, I wish my eyes weren’t always heavy because of you and crying because of you, I wish I could stop loving you forever.

Happy birthday Jake! Whenever I write ur name it always pops up as “JAKEEE” and it might sound stupid but I smile everytime I see it. I’m writing this at 11:19pm, on a day where you’re ghosting me, again for the second time. I don’t know what’s the reason this time, knowing you couldn’t keep your promise of not doing it again that you said not even a week ago.

I hope you’re aware I’m not stupid, I see when you’re online, I know you’ve left me on delivery for two days on purpose. When I said I don’t know about your reason “this time”, I in fact don’t know a lot of things that you do. When you’re in trouble I know you go on your phone for a couple minutes, you just decide to not even check up on me with that time. It sounds pathetic and unimportant but in my point of view it’s the most gut wrenching thing to know because I would, without a doubt, pick you out of everyone to talk to if I was going to die and had one last chance to talk to someone.

I’m typing all of this and I’m not even sure if we’ll make it till your birthday but, I’ve decided to completely forget about you when it hits 2024 if you still kept ghosting me because I wanna turn into a new person and throw away my past and all my old mistakes behind me that have been affecting my present. I try so hard to give myself excuses about you not texting, maybe you’re doing something with your parents like you said you were doing, maybe it was a surprise trip! But then I think more and realize that if you wanted to text me and say why you couldn’t text, you would’ve and if you couldn’t, you would’ve tried.

I hate how much I love you and I hate how much I’m aware that you don’t love me the same amount. My December is the absolute definition of “Hell”. I decided to wait for winter break to talk to you all about it and make myself better. What a fool I was for waiting and thinking you’d still text me the same. I hate how we text now, I don’t care about anything I just wanna feel special texting you the way we used to.

When I used to always tell you how tired I am based on how tired you are(like when you weren't tired and I was, I’d lie and say I wasn’t either, don’t know if you know what I’m talking about) I’d say it because I know myself, I know how if you were sad I’d be sad, if you’re happy I’m happy, when you’re not around I’m sad and when you’re around I’m happy.

You don’t understand the times I Thanked god each time you texted me back, even when it turned into an argument. I rather argue with you instead of no contact. That's how much I enjoy texting you. No matter how much I’ve cried and felt miserable being with you at times, I can’t seem to let you go. No matter how many boys that have liked me and I’ve never told you about, I decided to ignore and move on with my life. No matter how handsome they were, I myself don't understand why I see something in you that I don’t see with anyone else. Not being able to let you go is what kills me and I physically cannot live without you.

I can’t live a few hours without you, especially when I don't know the reason why you’re gone. When you told me you leave the people you don’t like texting on delivery, you told me that February 2023, a few days before the Valentine’s dance. If I told my February 2023 self that I’d be one of those people you keep on delivering, I’d laugh and start talking about how you’re such an amazing person.

And what’s worse is, I still laugh at myself and talk the best about you, even when I know deep down all the things I would rather swallow glass than go through again when I was with you.

I remember all our memories like it was yesterday, Jan 12, the first conversation when I added you on discord and you asked me “who is this” and i replied with “why didn’t you join me in nana simulator”. That day when going in the bus I told ____ “hey that Jake guy is kinda cute” but didn’t think it would get this far.

The time you made that stupid lie about not hugging me because mister ____ was there and u didn’t want ur parents to know.. I knew it was a lie, and I wasn’t upset that you didn’t hug me, I was uncomfortable as well at that moment, I was upset because someone hit me.

The night you got with g/n that was the same night you got with me. Every single conversation we had I remember it, even the stupid moment when you said you only liked g/n 40%. You say a lot of stupid things that turn out funny, that’s why I try to make myself feel better thinking you wouldn’t do anything to hurt me, but I forget that you’re not a child and you know everything you do.

I seriously wish I was lying when I say I never cried this much in my life except when I met you, even now. Right now, you’re even active on Instagram and of course I’m still on delivery. I’ve never felt so pathetic and embarrassed in my life, just looking at that “delivered 2D” thing on ur name. How I watched your name go from “jake” to “Jake❤️” to “jaeyun” to “j” to your original name on snap that you have on default. “⚽️”.

I love you so much that even my mother loves you. Whenever you weren’t texting me (practically the entire December), my mother would ask me about you a lot, I knew she loved you so much and I didn’t want you to have a bad look to my mother so I’d lie to her for you and tell her that you just texted me that you couldn’t text and whenever she’d ask me again, I’d tell her that you were saying the truth and u haven’t went online ever since, even though I knew that you were online half of the time.

I’ve tried seeing you all the time at school just to look at you and act if we are still texting, even if it meant crying a bit in class while thinking about you because I was left without explanation and you always look so happy, despite my absence in your life.

I keep lying to myself and saying that you mean the words you say to me but I know you don’t try to see me in every person you come across the same way I do, you don’t think of me the second you wake up at night the way I do, you would never look for me In a room full of girls.

I wake up from dreams in the middle of the night and even if it was a nightmare my first thought would be you, even if most likely the nightmare would have something to do with you. When my phone is next to me and I wake up, the first thing I do is put my phone down and in my head I say “please say you texted” knowing that each time it’s never you. I go back to sleep and wait for a message knowing I’d never wake up again if it were the case. I say I wish you could communicate more so I could understand how much you love me but, do you not love me as much because you lack communication or do you lack communication because you don’t love me as much.?

I don’t really know how this happy birthday thing turned into a whole story about my love life with you and how miserable I’ve been ever since school started again. It’s 2:01am now and I just can’t seem to fall asleep when you’re on my mind. My head hurts thinking so much about you, my head goes dizzy and my eyes start to pump as if they have their own heartbeat, disgusting..

I love you so much I wish I could forget about you for my own well being.

7 snaps in the morning, none of them are you. So many boys on my phone yet you're still the only one I wish would text me. My head knows ur bad for me but my heart doesn’t wanna leave you, I’m scared of losing every opportunity of being able to be with you, but I guess I’m just wasting that time with my own well being.

3 days doesn't sound like a lot but when you’re always online and ignoring me on purpose, it sure is a long time. I wish I could leave you on delivery for that long. I tried to ignore you a few times but I couldn’t last more than 4 minutes. It hurts how much we are different in this relationship and how much love is we feel is unequal

I tried as much as I could to keep you as my number one best friend on snap. I told my entire best friend list that I couldn’t talk so that nobody would go up, and it still managed to get ruined. Lina spent her days spamming me and making me reply to stories she posts so that she could take the number one best friend list on my list, and it worked. I doubt I was still yours anyway.

I tried as much as I could to keep you as my number one best friend on snap. I told my entire best friend list that I couldn’t talk so that nobody would go up, and it still managed to get ruined. Lina spent her days spamming me and making me reply to stories she posts so that she could take the number one best friend list on my list, and it worked. I doubt I was still yours anyway.

It’s funny because it’s news years and 2 years ago, this was the day i met the online friend who left me.

The one I was attached with for 2 years and ruined my entire mental health throughout 6 and 7th grade. The one that YOU replaced. The one I talked about for hours with you on TikTok, the one I told you I would tell everything and ever since he left, you were the new person I started acting as if it was him.

That guy, that nasty guy I was best friends with, blocked me for fun and ghosted me just to see me suffer without him, and you’re just repeating all of it.

I know you’re never going to message me, yet I realize I keep checking my lock screen every 5 minutes, your Instagram status, your reposts, your snap score, everything. I keep myself on not disturb but keep checking to hope that maybe, just maybe, you would’ve decided to check my messages and reply.

If I knew that night was gonna be the last time we were gonna talk to each other, I would’ve listened to my gut and begged you to stay. I’ve repeated many things, this entire “paragraph”(more like a book lol.) is in scrabbles because I don’t know how to explain myself, I write so much each time and just keep feeling the same, no happiness.

I know I said if you don’t text before it hits 2024, I’d forget you and erase you from my life because I’m trying to change, but the truth is, I’m sure that even if you text me after, I’d reply the second I see your name. Although I might be still a little too confident thinking you’d text at all. I don’t want to leave you, even when I know it’s better for me. I want to text you “I wanna break up” so you could make some sense when you’re half swiping my message and quickly reply, but I’m scared that you wouldn’t question it and instead just say okay and leave for good.

I hate always being the one that gets attached in relationships, especially when the other isn’t.

I hate how when you came back after ghosting me for 2 weeks before ghosting me again this time, you were acting as if you were embarrassed and very guilty about what you did, you made me feel bad for you. While I was the one suffering and crying every chance I got, I was the one comforting you. “You don’t need to say sorry, I knew you wouldn’t do this without a reason, I know you wouldn’t mean it.

Even before you came back and said sorry, I had forgiven you. I just want you to focus on yourself but please, communicate with me next time, I’ll understand you.” Those were the words I told you. Why can’t anyone comfort me the same way I comfort people? Why were those the words I wanted to hear? Why are you, the one who makes me smile and who makes me wanna die as well, why are you the only reason I wanna keep living? Why do I see my life only as Important because I know if I died I wouldn’t be able to text you anymore?

I see you use Snapchat by your snap score going up, gosh it feels so pathetic to know I’m still on delivered. Stop doing this to me please I beg you it hurts too much I can’t handle any of it anymore. My eyes are constantly stinging and it hurts so much, I don’t deserve this, all I ever wanted was for you to be happy, with me, not at the look of me going crazy over you not texting me. I’ve been crying for hours and usually I’d run out of tears to cry, why is it that I keep gaining more this time?

Oh please, come back to me, I bear seeing anyone else with you. Our stupid conversations about getting married and lasting forever with eachother, why have you forgotten all of it?

I would’ve never thought i'd feel this way, i thought I loved my life and the only stress I had was school, why am I on winter break and going absolutely insane in the bathroom and in my room over a person like you.

I would’ve never thought id ever wanna die, why do I feel like it’s my only option to peace right now? Suicidal? No way! But I seriously can’t escape from the thought of you, I need you out of my life, but that would be worse, I just wish I never met you, that’s also a lie. I wish you never changed, I miss the times you would care about how I felt.

This month, December, is my worst year. I needed you most at this time, why did you make it harder for me, purposely? Remember when you got mad at me for playing with ___? Haha I was so sad you were ignoring me again and you admitted you didn’t wanna talk, I loved how overprotective you were acting, but why were you jealous about him when he treats me better than you? Why do I love you more than someone who treats me so much better?.

Wow, when I finished writing that, you checked my message. Dec 31 7:14. Opened. Let me guess, you’re gonna start apologizing “MY BAD MY MAD IM SO SORRY I GOT IN TROUBLE.”

And would you look at that, I wrote in my notes app:

Yup, just as a I thought, Jake: MB MY PARENTS TOOK MY PHONE. I sent this to him, all he had to say was he needed time alone and said “see u” when I said “byeee” what the hell. If I killed myself it wouldn’t be enough for this man..??? He doesn’t text me properly for almost a month and he needs TIME ALONE??? Ugh! Happy new years! I told him happy new years on 12 exactly and all he said was “thanks u to” and I said I was gonna become nicer and he said “cool” so I’m going to be straight up with him and ask if we are breaking up. I don’t wanna wait anymore t’il HE'S READY. All he said was no. Wth — His last words were; I love you so much, I'm sorry, I'll message you when i get the chance.

It’s safe to say, I really was going insane. He never texted me again in 8th grade after that—until, the summer before 9th grade. I remember how he asked if we could talk when I have time, he was in France by now by the way. I told him that I was surprised that I’m hearing him again, and said sure. All he had to say was, “I’m sorry for everything I did, I’m sorry for ghosting you and all, I was really going through it” I beg your pardon?

That’s all he wanted to talk about? Quickly, I respond with:

- you: No, Jake. I want to know what happend , why did you do that?

- Jake: I promise you, It was personal problems y/n

He was so stubborn, I know it wasn’t the reason, we would go through things but we’d go through them together—not the way he did it. But, i always saw the good in him, even in that moment, i wasn’t angry at him. When I was with him, he was amazing—so I always wanted to keep that image of him and not swifch up so quickly just because he ghosted me for practically a year now. But still, i had to do what I had to do so—I asked him the big question:

- You: you know, we never properly broke up, so, what is it? Do u still like me? You haven’t talked to me in forever, you’re supposed to answer this.

- Jake: you first

Not this again.

- you: Jake no. You’re the one who left so you’re the one who answers it.

- Jake: no no just please you first

- You: Jake. What do you want from me? opened.

There he goes again, that was for real the last message. I never heard from him again-

“next stop, _____ university” —

There’s the train—perfect timing.

Today’s a weird day—maybe because it’s snowing, maybe because its the month he first started acting weird. Usually, you think of him before bed, not during the entire morning… You miss him, it’s been a while—You still wonder where he is now.

Sometimes, you wonder if you should drop out of university and become a famous model—maybe then he could recognise you and reach out.

You can barely remember his voice, you lost all my old videos from before you even started texting—those were the times you actually heard him speak, the rest was small talk and then completely no contact. Even when you guys were dating, you never spoke in real life—too scared and nervous.

You're finaly off the train—heading to class now, exams are coming up. You never got to experience it with Jake since he left to go to high-school in France, did I mention that already? You say to yourself. Actually, he had never removed his name from your school so when you had attendance on the first day of nineth grade, he was called in every single one of your classes. What a coincidence, you had never gotten in the same class for two years but then could’ve got all your first semester classes with him if he hadn’t left—what a way to play with your reason to live.

University isn’t like highschool anymore—it’s quieter, people are more focused on themselves than things that people have to say about eachother. You have a small group of friends that you met In highschool, you're glad you're still in touch despite how many years it’s been.

9:09am—huh??? Your class starts in a minute, shoot!

You dont know why you rushed to get to class so quickly… it’s too boring, You're bout to fall asleep. As you were about to lay your head on the desk and doze off—you heard your professor mutter something a little interesting for once.

“Okay students, this doesn’t have to do with our major but the board entered my name to do a small project out of context. Today, and for the following month, there will be 15 people from this class and the class that starts in 2 hours who will travel abroad—more specifically to France-“

That’s all you needed to hear—you didn’t care about the rest, you heard France and knew that you were going to be participating in this activity. It’ll be fun, you say, i'll get to experience how Jake lived in France, you say. You say it all, with no intentions of actually meeting Jake. You just wanted to experience what he experienced, maybe it'd make you feel a little closer to him. Like always, you made everything in your life, about him. It’s like he was famous in your mind.

You needed a break from your current place anyway, everything was all over the place, you felt as if you’ve been living the same days over and over again. Maybe this was an opportunity to change things a bit—get you out of your comfort zone.

You signed up so quickly to the program my teacher talked about a few days ago. You already found a roommate to stay with for the time you'll be staying there.

The guy you arranged to live with was a little bit younger than you, but you didn’t mind—you just needed a place to stay for a bit. You soon learned that he goes to the same university that you’ll be studying in, which is nice—you’ll have someone to help you around everything.

You’re counting the days until you leave—you called with the roommate and found out a few extra things about him. His name was ni-ki, he was also a foreigner except he’s permanently staying there. He’s in the same major as you and as you exchanged schedules, you saw that you guys had 2/4 classes together—that’s nice, already got a buddy to be with for half of your classes!

You're now in France, heading to your apartment—ready to meet Ni-ki. Right before you can manage to knock, he opens the door—as if he was waiting for you by the door. "Hey," he speaks, his voice low and deep. He was tall and slim—it reminded you of Jake. You don't know how he looks like anymore, you haven't in a while. The last time you saw him, he was tall, above all the boys in your grade, you don't know anything about him anymore actually.

Before you could continue being lost in thought, Ni-ki speaks up once again. "How about you go get some rest, you look tired. You can tell me about your trip in the morning. Sounds good?" You nod, you were exhausted, the trip was long and you could barely close your eyes in the plane.

'Oh and, y/n, by the way, i'll invite some friends over for a bit, if that's alright with you?' 'yeah that's fine don't worry, I bet you i'll be so deep in sleep that I wouldn't even wake up if you guys bomb the place.' What a lie. You couldn't fall asleep at all.

right as you thought you were going to fall asleep, you heard the door burst open, the people Ni-ki invited finally arrived. You could hear like—five people? Oh wait—no—a sixth one—who.. Sounded a lot like—Jake.

You couldn't remember his voice but when you heard something like him—you just knew. What a great discovery, even if you were going to finally get some sleep—you definitely aren't now. You sat in the bed you were assigned to sleep in, listening to the boys downstairs chatting—the guy who sounded like Jake wasn't really talkative, maybe its not him—actually, you're sure its not him—you're just eavesdropping so that you could pretending that you're listening to Jake's voice.

In the morning, Ni-ki had to wake you up for your class because you were still used to your old timezone. 'y/n... we have class in like 30 minutes...' 'Five more minutes... Get off of me, let me sleep!' 'I'll rip up all your clothes if you don't get up.' 'What? What! Okay, okay I'm up!'

You both ran to class, your apartment wasn't on campus but it was still close. You were introduced to the first two classes with Ni-ki by your side, you followed him everywhere for those first two periods—but now, you two next are alone—and you have no idea where to go.

Luckily, you spotted one of your teachers from your morning classes, they had to go fill out some papers and correct tests so they couldn't give you a tour of the school—but guided you to Ni-ki's class so that he could be excused out of his class and help you.

You walked into his class behind your teacher, not bothering to look at anyone to try and find him—too scared you'll make awkward eye contact with anyone who isn't him.

"I'm sorry for interrupting your lesson, Chanelle, but could we please steal your student Nishimura Riki for a period? We have a new foreign student who knows him and needs a tour of campus." Your teacher said to the one who was currently teaching Ni-ki's class. "Oh why of course, and don't apologise, i needed this few second break..." She responded. "Nishimura, get down here"

As she called him over, you follower her eyes—trying to spot Ni-ki. Then, you found him, laying back on a chair with his feet on the table, surrounded by 6 boys—probably the ones from yesterday.

'Hey ni-ki, whos that girl next to the teacher? You know her?' The purple haired boy asked. Just as you were going to smile and wave at him, your eyes spotted one of the boys who stood out a bit brighter than the rest—due to his immersive stare at you. Jake. There he was. Yes you haven't seen him in a while, but those eyes never change. it really was him—right infront of you. It was Jake.

You didn't utter a single word—turning quickly and just waiting for ni-ki to get down. You always imagined what you'd do when you saw him again—you just didn't expect it ever to be like this.

In the afternoon, after both you and ni-ki got back to your apartment. You built up the courage to ask him, 'Hey, ni-ki, who were those boys you were with when I came into your class searching for you?' 'Oh them, those are my best friends. Heeseung, the purple haired one you heard, Jay, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Jungwon and Jake. We've been friends ever since i got here, but they've been childhood friends since they were little—except Jake, he came during highschool, but that's still a while ago! Y/n? Are you listening-' 'Yes! Yes! I am indeed!' 'Oh okay, well yeah. Actually, they're coming over again—i'll properly introduce you to them then!'

Excuse you? Coming over? Again? How many times do these boys come over? They just visited yesterday... "Again?" you spoke, voice a little lower than you hoped it'd be. "Yeah, they come over all the time, you'll love them, trust me!" He said, love filled in his eyes as he spoke about his friends—completely unaware of what you were currently thinking.

Minutes passed and suddenly, the doorbell rang. You instinctively froze, Ni-ki jogged to go get the door, leaving you in the living room alone, awkwardly waiting. "Guys, this is the girl from earlier, this is y/n, shes my roommate" One by one, they entered the room, you got up and kindly greeted all five of them—until it was turn for the sixth one who took a little longer to remove his coat after hearing ni-ki's words.

When it was Jake's turn, your heart sank, you looked at him from close up—he was different. His face had matured, his hair had thickened, He body looked a lot fuller and grown up than you last remember. A lot changed—but it was still so easy to tell it was him. Perfect nose, flawless face, the same eyes you fell in love with.

"Y/n?" Jake spoke, in a questioning tone, way lower than how he used to speak. You were surprised that he even said something, if you two were in 8th grade, he wouldn't even be able to look your way, head down as he walks past you to make it seem like he didn't see you—while you would stare at the lockers, the opposite direction of him. "Long time no see" was all you said, though your mind was saying alot more.

"You two know each other?" Jungwon asked as you both nodded. "What a small world!" Sunoo added.

The rest of the night was awkward, both you and Jake sneaking glances of each other, trying to admire everything that changed. We haven't seen each other in 10 years, It's normal. For a split second, you both had eye contact—his eyebrows lower than usual, his eyes in a weird shape, like if it was an apology.

He used to be so active, so energetic—but tonight, he was even quieter than when I heard him yesterday from upstairs.

Sunghoon and Heeseung requested to watch a movie. You tried distracting yourself by helping Jay pick out snacks from the pantry, but his gaze was burning you, you could feel it no matter what you do. All of a sudden, ni-ki requested Jake to go grab some drinks. As he walked past you to the fridge he whispered, "Y/n, can we talk?"

It was starting to get late, each member leaving, keeping you and Jake alone. You didn't want to talk in the apartment with ni-ki so you both requested going outside the apartment, take a little walk as you talk.

It reminded you of when you went on that field trip, walking downtown with lights everywhere, as if you were in a movie, as if the world was only you and him, nothing else mattered. After minutes of silence, he broke it, Jake finally spoke.

- I didnt expect to you again. He said

- I didnt either.

- I wanted to apologise for everything, I know i said that the last time we spoke, but i really mean it this time. I know that whatever the reason was, I should've never acted that way.

- But Jake, how many times have we been through this before? Its been 10 years and yet you still say the same thing. I don't even know why I'm still here, listening to you say all of this, even after all the time that passed.

- I know I was always wrong, i know. My parents forced me okay? They didn't think I'd be able to focus on my education if I kept talking to you. My graders were dropping and they thought it was because of you when really it was because i was fooling around with my friends. I know you asked me if it was because of my parents and I said no but I was just so scared I didn't know what to do, I didn't want to disrespect my parents either and tell you that they were telling me to leave you.

As you were trying to find the words to respond to him, he continued.

- I know i was a jerk, and i dont expect you to forgive me so easily especially that im saying all of this so late, I didnt know if you would want to ever see my face again anyway. I needed to say this all because i cant keep it in anymore.

At this point, he’s sobbing, unable to even walk anymore—he just sat there, on the side of the road. His hands covering his face and trying to wipe his tears as fast as he face—now, avoiding your gaze at all times.

You’ve never seen him like this, he never cried, never spoke about his feelings, he never thought he should because he wanted to look strong all the time. “okay Jake, I forgive you, I forgave you a long time ago, just please, get up Jake. Let’s go to your place, I can’t leave you like this, please.” You pleaded, feeling sorry for him. You knew he had a kind heart deep down despite everything, your heart ached at the scene in front of you.

You got to his place, helped him wash his face, his face flushed, embarrassed that he did all that after seeing you just once aft all those years. Everything was weird, despite the entire scene, everything was still unspoken, leaving plenty of things to discuss about.

As you sat him down on his couch, he said, "Y/n. I promise you for real this time, i'll tell you everything, I'll explain everything right now, I want to fix things even if it takes another 10 years to cure it all."

"Okay." you said, everything felt like the day you two confessed, explaining the unexplained, answering the questions you both were wondering about each other's actions back there.

Maybe it was going to take a while to get everything adjusted again, but you didn't mind, its not like you waited 10 years already, you know how to wait. None of that mattered right now, you were just relieved that finally—you have answers.

Maybe, it was worth it—having you famous in my mind.

[factual-fantasy]

I’d recommend you to take a moment before reaching out to thieves and try not to get too emotional when calling them out in dm/asks

Of course it’s your right to do that but I’m just thinking that you working yourself up on that neither helps you or the situation.

Also on top of reaching out I definitely recommend that you just report them. F around and find out… and all that.

I also think that you should take a break from certain fandoms when they become notorious for thefts. For yourself and your mental health.

These are all just recommendations… I just want you to enjoy what you do and that your mental health doesn’t suffer from any of this.

Either way I hope you’re having a good time and I wish you a wonderful and peaceful time until we get to 2025.

Take care!

Oh I don't reach out to art thieves. The watermark clearly states my boundary so I just report on sight. They have no excuse for it.

When it comes to design thieves I reach out and tell them that I'm not okay with my designs being used. So far every time that has happened outside of the Octonauts fandom they were very apologetic and claimed they didn't know.

Art tracers are less kind. I tell them to stop tracing my artwork and compare the two images. If they don't listen I just report them and block on sight.

And as for taking a break from fandoms, yeahh. I've left the Octonauts fandom for good because of that and am very hesitant to rejoin the FNAF fandom.

Thank you for checking in tho, I hope you have a good rest of 2024 too! :}}

[dammit-tazmuir]

@grievingbovine I am always happy to gush about Paul ;w;

Also I feel like... I'm not sure if it's more "codependency isn't always bad" or "codependency is a term we've grown to use too liberally when what should actually be the defining factor isn't the behaviors involved but whether or not those are actually hurting the people involved" or something in between or adjacent to that. It also feels like there might be kinda two definitions people use interchangeably? One being the more medical term and the other a looser thing of like, deeply dependent on each other.

But semantics aside I know what you mean, and yeah.

It is, generally speaking, unhealthy to be SO dependent on a SPECIFIC person that you can't live without them. Cam and Pal post-explosion had a very unique situation, whereas for most cases in real life, it's better to at least like... need SOMEONE, a purpose, a cause, but also be capable of seeking a new one if you lose that, after time to process and grief. A Camilla whose whole life revolved around Palamedes but didn't get him back learning to live again for Nona, as a hypothetical, or Harrow who would not let herself survive alone but can live for God and for Gideon and for Alecto and for the memory of those lost to conceive her and who may find other purposes still. Ofc no one is arguing Harrow is healthy about that, but like, if you CAN'T find an internal sense of worth, a purely external one is still infinitely better and healthier than none!

It feels very silly but a straight up life-changing thing for me as someone who does the same shit was the anime Gurren Lagann throwing around the phrase, "believe in the me who believes in you." Over time it morphed into "believe in the you that I believe in", and ultimately into having genuinely self-assurance, but taking even one or two of those steps is like... YEAH? Yeah! You know? External validation can be so meaningful and powerful, and isn't antithetical to internal by any means. If you can find it in even a handful of different sources, even better. A thing I try to tell people a lot when it comes to mental health too is you don't have to Get Better to get BETTER. It's not "you're unhealthy and must be fixed" or "you're 100% healthy in all ways". Less unhealthy and more functional than you were is amazing and to be celebrated actually!!!

But at the same time?

Ya know, no, I agree, I DON'T think it's a bad thing to need to NOT be ALONE. I understand the importance of being capable of surviving alone, at least long enough to seek new connections. And living for a person or cause is always easier than dying for them ("you could have lived for her, but you didn't know how"...), especially if you're living for their memory after they're gone, but people should try to do it anyway! But to just..... want to be devoted to someone? To thrive on supporting or caring for other people???

That's not what I'd call "toxic codependency", that's humans being a social species. Hell, that's looking at stories and seeing how many supporting characters are vital to helping a hero succeed and deciding "that sounds awesome actually! Not everyone needs to be the hero, I would love to be a supporting character!" Especially when you're not losing sight of your own needs in the process.

Like... Sacrifice and martyr mentality can be horrible destructive things that do more harm than good, but sacrifice is also objectively a major way people show love. Parents doing without a little more to make sure their kids get something nice, someone doing a chore they don't like because they know their partner hates it more, etc. The difference between "my needs aren't important, I'm not important, I'll always prioritize others because I don't take care of myself in general" and "I have weighed the pros and cons and decided that I can handle this and wish to put someone else first in this situation" is not always apparent from the outside but it's an extremely important distinction. There's a difference between being needlessly reckless and hard on yourself versus making a decision to achieve an end you want even though it costs you something.

Cam trying to hide how rough carrying Pal was on her wasn't her being needlessly reckless, it was her being a stubborn bitch who knows she's tough as hell. If anything people have more grounds to criticize her going against Pal's interests and wishes by not giving him information he needed to make properly informed decisions! To think that he was in any way taking advantage of her when she'd have found a way to kick his ass if he'd tried to force her to stop is wild lmao. (Not to mention Pal literally killing himself— he was still Around but objectively dead all the same!— in the "dying for someone is the cruelest thing you could do to them" book. Like he ain't making big sacrifices fueled by his love for and trust in her too smh.)

And honestly? Yeah that does sound like the kind of thing that could save the world. Our world would be a better place with less people striving to be main characters and more people eager to support each other. More people should be saying "No you will let me help you, you son of a bitch. Don't you dare tell me it's Too Much." >:( So many people are afraid of Being A Burden but more people need to understand— from the perspective of the person with that fear and as friends wishing to help someone who has that fear— that only the person offering help can decide what is A Burden to them! It's not the other person's decision to make!

Palamades didn't have a right to tell Camilla not to push herself to keep him around when that was her choice, and anyone fearing their loved ones sacrifice too much for them don't have a right to tell them to love them less, either. Sometimes— often, really— the alternative is worse. And part of me has to wonder if some people are averse to acknowledging that because if they did, then they'd have to acknowledge that letting someone else help you can be actively beneficial to them, and constantly refusing to ask for or accept help is in turn actively depriving them of something that would help them too. <.< Too bad everyone, gotta let people love you.

Locked tomb hot takes:

Insisting that the birth of Paul is only a tragedy because of the uneven power dynamics between Palamedes and Camilla as Necro and Cav invalidates Camillas autonomy and undermines her as a character capable of making her own decisions. It also undermines Palamedes constantly checking for consent. He understands more than most that there is an uneven power dynamic and actively works to respect her autonomy as much as he can while also respecting their bond/positions as necro and cav.

In a world where those who identify as men have no natural power over those who identify as women or neither, we can not apply the same cisheteronormative expectations of male behavior to male characters.

Camilla made every. Single. Choice. Willingly. She had reasons for it, and Palamedes respected that more than readers seem to. We get plenty of examples.

"What would you do if you discovered Camilla was a murderer?”

“Help her bury the body,” said Palamedes promptly.

“Sextus.”

“I mean it. If Camilla wants someone dead,” he said, “then far be it from me to stand in her way. All I can do at that point is watch the bloodshed and look for a mop. One flesh, one end, and all that.”

GtN chapter 30

NtN chapter 17

The relationship between these two may be codependent, but it's predicated on trust and consent. The whole way through. This is the life Cam wants to live. Becoming Paul was what *she wanted*.

I find it strange that some people think they know what's best for her more than she does, just because she's a cavalier.

[cjlouwho]

Twelve Christmases

chapter tags: discussions of a burn victim (nothing graphic), discussions of suicide and mental health, very brief mentions of things that happened in past chapters (Tommy's mom, military, red handkerchief, implied noncon), anxiety, depression, background character death, Tommy calls the crisis hotline

read below or on ao3

Day 10: 2022

“I'm calling Roberts in early, you can go home.”

“Captain Marks-”

“No, Kinard! What you did out there was careless. You could've gotten yourself killed.”

“And if I'd done nothing, that man would be dead.”

“He's gonna wish he were dead if he ever wakes up! He's got third degree burns on over seventy percent of his body! I don't mean to be harsh, Tommy, but you risked your life for a dead man walking!”

“So?” 

Marks took a deep breath, sitting back in his chair. “I'm gonna pretend I didn't just hear you say that. I know emotions are high right now, but you know as well as I do I can't have a pilot that isn't concerned about whether they live or die.”

“That's not-”

“Stop talking, Kinard,” Marks warned. “You're on the ground for five shifts, I'll reevaluate things myself after that. If I have any hesitation, for even a moment, about your intentions here, you're getting a psych eval. That'll put you on the ground forever. You understand me?”

Tommy pursed his lips, nodding his head. “I understand.”

“Good. Now, go home, enjoy the rest of your Christmas, come back next shift with a clear head.”

*****

By the time Tommy got home, it was nearing ten o'clock at night. His brain was a jumbled mess. It didn't seem to matter how many times he hit the punching bag in his garage, it was never enough.

After a quick shower, he thought about laying down.

But even the idea of that made him want to crawl out of his skin.

So, he began to pace.

He paced, and paced, and paced, with his hands on his hips. From the living room, to the kitchen, down the hall, and back again.

It all felt like too much. He wasn't just thinking about today. He was thinking about his mom. He was thinking about the military. He was thinking about the red handkerchief. He was thinking about waking up in a stranger's apartment with no clue what happened the night before.

He was thinking, thinking, thinking, pacing, pacing, pacing, and he needed it all to stop.

Just stop!

So he did something he never thought he'd do.

He wasn't even sure what made him do it.

All he remembered was pulling his phone out of his pocket and dialing the number.

988.

“988 crisis lifeline, this is Penny. How can I help you today?”

He froze.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

He swallowed. Closed his eyes.

“I'm here.”

“Oh, good. May I ask who I'm speaking with?”

“Tommy,” no attempt to try for a fake name.

“Hi, Tommy! I'm Penny. I know I said it before, but I like to make sure the people I speak to heard me. Tommy, ca-”

“I'm not... I don't wanna kill myself,” Tommy interrupted, needing to make it clear. “I just needed someone to talk to.”

“Okay.” Her voice was soothing, familiar almost. A voice that Tommy hadn't heard in years. “That's what I'm here for, Tommy. What's on your mind?”

He tried to think of what to say. Tried to figure out the perfect way to start the conversation.

He was usually so put together.

But everything felt off.

“I hate Christmas.”

He wasn't sure why that was the first thing that popped into his brain at this moment, but it was out there now.

“A lot of people have complex feelings about holidays. It can be tough sometimes, no doubt about it.”

The tiny admission seemed to open a floodgate for Tommy. “My mom was thirty-eight when she died, and I'm thirty-eight now,” he explained. He was sure the words coming out of his mouth were just as jumbled as the thoughts in his head. “And she- she didn't die around Christmas. She actually died in June, so I don't know why I keep thinking about her today of all days, but I do. Not just her; I'm thinking about a lot of things. But it all sort of leads back to her at the end, I guess.”

“Was Christmas important to her?” Penny asked.

“She loved it when I was really little. Always liked looking at the lights and taking me to the mall to pick out things I wanted. I think my dad ruined Christmas for her though.”

“He wasn't big on the holiday?”

“He wasn't big on family. Looking back, I can see how being with him changed her. I didn't recognize it back then.”

“You were young. She probably didn't want you to recognize it.”

Tommy sighed, giving himself a moment to gather his thoughts. “She didn't get thirty-nine Christmases, you know? And that doesn't really seem fair. Because I'm here for my thirty-ninth Christmas and I don't even like the damn day. She deserved more. She deserved better.”

“It's never easy to understand why the people we love get taken from us too soon. It can be especially difficult when we lose them as a child.”

Tommy let out a humorless laugh. “She didn't get taken from me,” he bit out, “she left me.”

There was a pause on the line, then, “I'm sorry?”

“Yeah, she uh, she made that choice to leave herself. Stuck me with my dad, who never really gave a crap about me in the first place, and she... she was just gone.”

“I'm sorry about that, Tommy. That's a lot to have to deal with as a kid.”

“I don't ever talk about it, about her. I don't really have anyone to talk about it with. My dad never cared for emotions, so I just plaster a smile on my face and put my shoulders back and keep going.” Tommy shook his head, clearing his throat and wiping away the tears that were pooling in his eyes. “That's not why I called though. Not because of her.”

“Okay,” Penny replied. “Tell me why you called, Tommy.”

Tommy rolled his shoulders, trying to rid himself of some of the tension running through his body. “I did something stupid at work today, and I knew better. I just didn't care.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“I work for the fire department. I'm a firefighter pilot, but today I was on the ground. We were called to a fire at this house- well, more like a mansion- and we thought we had the place cleared. Then the daughter started yelling for her dad. I headed back inside and found him, um,” Tommy paused, taking in a shaky breath.

“It's okay, Tommy. Take your time.”

“He- He was at the source of the fire. A fairly large space heater exploded and the fire had spread quickly. The house was about to collapse, and I was being told to get out, but I stayed. Long story short, I was able to get the man out right before the structure collapsed. He was severely burned though. If he makes it, and it's a big if, he's going to wish he hadn't. My captain won't let me fly for a while now. Sent me home early.” He let out a humorless laugh. “I wasn't even supposed to work today. I took the shift because I hate this damn holiday.”

“You've mentioned that three times now,” Penny noted.

“What?”

“How much you dislike Christmas. Tommy, do you think that maybe the risk you took today had something to do with the fact it's Christmas? Emotions were already high, making you take risks you wouldn't usually take?”

“Hm,” Tommy hummed. “Maybe? I don't really know though, because I feel like I'm ready to take those same risks any day, anytime. I said it before, and I meant it, I'm not trying to die. I just... I don't think I care if I do. It didn't matter to me if I didn't make it out. We're all gonna die someday, you know? That's what I always figure. What's it matter if it's now?”

“I think it would matter to the people who love you. The people who care about you.”

“I don't think I know anyone well enough for them to be affected by my death.”

“Well, it would matter to me,” Penny replied matter-of-factly, and Tommy couldn't help but let out a laugh.

“I dunno, I can be kind of a bitch sometimes.”

“Thank God for that, I'd hate it if you were too perfect.”

“Well, I never said I wasn't perfect. Perfect and bitch can go together, right?”

“I think it's a great pairing.”

A smile lingered on Tommy's face. He couldn't remember the last time he spoke to someone so openly. “Penny?”

“I'm here.”

“Would you stay on the phone with me until Christmas is over?”

“Honey,” she answered, Tommy softening at the name, “I can honestly say there's nowhere else I'd rather be.”

Penny stayed on the phone with him until 12:01. She was willing to stay on the line longer, but by the time Tommy had watched the clock strike midnight, he was ready to go to bed.

He felt better. A little lighter than he had in a while.

He'd been in bed for about fifteen minutes, and was just dozing off when his phone buzzed.

It was Captain Marks.

The man from the house fire died on the operating table.

I know you wanted to save him, Tommy.

Unfortunately we can't save them all.

Tommy stared at the texts for a good ten minutes before switching over to the phone app and dialing 988 again.

[deadpeopleinc]

Alright chat, here's a list of fun facts/headcanons for my Marauders era au (out of context)

The concept of songbirds has done irreversible damage to Sirius' mental health

Sirius was painfully aware of the fact he was put in the wrong Hogwarts house, while Regulus was (for once) oblivious to the fact he was put in the wrong one

James is deathly afraid of clowns and anything clown adjacent

It takes Remus about 30 seconds to decide if he likes you

Peter can cry on demand, but the fact he cries pretty easily already makes this skill useless

Sirius loves clowns and anything clown adjacent

While Marlene is 3rd in student rankings, she can't brew a potion correctly if her life depended on it

Despite her calm demeanor, Dorcas is a holiday fiend and will find any reason to go all out

Pandora has managed to trick most of the Hogwarts population into thinking she's a seer. She's not, just really observant

Rosekiller started flirting with Peter as an on the wim joke, and fell in love on an even bigger wim

It takes a 2 minute conversation with Pandora for Lily to fall in love

Peter is scarily into horror movies

Sirius is an intense gingerbread fan

James has a habit of getting weirdly poetic with his speech, but only in short bursts

James is the 'eyes always closed anime character' of Hogwarts. Sirius didn't actually know what his eye color was until 3rd year. He gets this from his father

Sirius gets incredibly defensive of his family, but will deny it like his life depends on it

Partial albinism is a Black family trait, most just choose to hide it. Narcissa and Regulus are the only ones who don't

James was the only marauder with a regular (posh) British accent until like 2nd year. He still somehow managed to understand them perfectly fine

Marlene needs glasses but would actually rather die than wear them

Sirius is left-handed, Snape is too and they both hate it because of that

Lily was a horse girl

Sirius is autistic, Snape is too and they both hate it because of that

Peter bakes and Sirius cooks

Remus manages to burn water and James isn't allowed into kitchens. Not because he's bad at cooking, he's actually really good, he just gets really controlling

James is Indian, Mexican, and Chinese

Sirius would die to be taller, but (simultaneously) finds he and Remus' height difference hot

It takes Remus 4 years to fully realize how much taller he is to everyone else

Peter love gardening

Sirius has really neat handwriting, like every essay he writes is in beautiful cursive and he hates it

Snape's favorite color is pastel pink

Snape and Sirius' friendship starts right after a fistfight in a potions classroom

It takes everyone else 6 months to find out about said friendship

When his concealing charm isn't on, Sirius' partial albinism covers the whole left side of his body. He has the most "coverage" in the entire family

James always cries during the dramatic kiss scenes in romance movies

He's also the 'eyes always closed anime character' of Hogwarts. Sirius doesn't know what his eye color is until 5th year

Remus was under the impression he was bi for the longest time because he only ever had crushes on fem/androgynous guys. It took until 6th year for him to realize that didn't count because they were all still guys none the less

James thought everyone didn't see gender when it came to crushes until around 3rd year

This will almost definitely have a part 2, but this is what's on my brain at the moment.

•edit• PART 2

[dufferpuffer]

BNHA isn't exactly a shining example of great disability rep... but it has its moments - and it has things that are truly WONDERFUL.

It's a children's 'hero' story that's constantly juggling the concepts of "Don't work so hard that you hurt yourself! Eat your vegetables." and "GO PLUS ULTRA! SOMETIMES YOU GOTTA HURT TO WIN!" Which are both... difficult messages when it comes to disability. Not bad. Just difficult. It's not so clear cut for us.

Often staying healthy and keeping safe DOES hurt us. It hurts me. My day-to-day life is made worse by doing all the things I need to do to continue my alive streak: eat, drink, walk, take meds... Is keeping healthy 'PLUS ULTRA' when it's agonizing and miserable - or is letting myself live for a moment, ignoring everything for the sake of adventure and comfort, 'PLUS ULTRA' for being reckless...?

While it does touch on it, BNHA isn't out here trying to answer such questions - and I don't blame it for that. I wouldn't want it to. All Might gives a more elegant answer than any awkward moral:

"I've decided to keep on living."

All Might was a man whose body was his entire sense of self. His strength, his abilities, his smile - not only his self worth but his very identity was ultimately reliant on his health. He lived selflessly, as 'any good hero should'. His life belonged to everyone else; to the concept of work he could do for society.

So what can he feel other than anguish when he becomes disabled? His health eroded, his body ruined, his smile hollowed... He tried to live PLUS ULTRA, pretending he was fine for seven years even though it was literally killing him - because how else can he live??

He lost friends because he refused to be 'a useless shell of who he once was, rotting away in misery. A disappointment.' His friends wanted him alive... but he didn't feel like living, if it meant being 'selfish' and not giving every ounce of himself to work.

His physical health got worse. His mental health got worse. He couldn't work for as many hours as a hero so he started teaching, to squeeze every bit of use out of him... waiting for a welcome death.

"passively suicidal, who knew that his own death was coming soon yet did nothing to change its outcome" He wasn't living. He was lifting others up till his arms gave out.

But now, after so many tragedies and triumphs... hurting himself with recklessness, feeling the weight and pain of managing his health... ...He has decided to keep living.

Living. For himself, for joy, for love - those things he was loathe to want for being selfish and useless... he can just be now. He has had to change his life so many times to suit his health, watch doors close around him, every time with self-judgement he would never apply to someone else - all for the goal of being useful.

Now hes finally decided to make himself a priority. He's learned how to enjoy living. To see himself in his drastically different, less-able, sick body... and to love it. "I've decided to keep on living."

It genuinely does mean so much to me that All Might lived, and he wanted to live. Like being able to see a character so passively suicidal, who knew that his own death was coming soon yet did nothing to change its outcome, decide he wanted to keep on living? To decide that he would continue to live? And actually be able to live? Also subverting the trope of the old mentor dying after passing on all he could to his student in the progress, and ending up old and retired and happy. It's just so beautiful to see

[snarkspawn]

Oh look, it's that time of the year again :'D (how tf did that happen??) Anyway, hm. Mental health-wise this year was the worst in quite some time for me, so for some months I literally only had one, maybe two finished pieces to choose from. BUT on the plus side I'm fairly happy with most of the drawings I did finish, so that's good! I'll just focus on that, and on all the things I still want to improve on in the future. Here's to hoping 2025 will be less rough, and a little kinder, to all of us :)

On that note I wish all of you a wonderful end of the year and a great start into 2025! Thank you so, so much for coming with me on my art journey, for liking and reblogging, and for leaving nice comments and messages! You make it all worth it and I appreciate the hell out of you, whether you've been following me for ages or only just got here 💜 mwah!

[copperbadge]

Radio Free Monday

Good morning everyone, and welcome to Radio Free Monday!

While I will be discontinuing Radio Free Monday in the new year, I am working with someone now on keeping it going. This looks like it's gonna happen, so stay tuned and please be patient with us if there are any bumps during the transition, but feel free to keep submitting items.

We have no new Ways To Give this week! So let's crack on:

News to Know:

Anon wanted to remind folks in the US that you can tip your mail carriers, but there are certain rules about how and with what; you can read the guidelines and find links to ethics rules here.

I'd also remind folks that the USPS has a podcast, Mailin' It, which discusses all things postal.

Recurring Needs:

loversdoom is raising funds for an assessment to get help with mental health so she can be treated and remain in school, where she has a safe place to live and basic psychiatric support. You can read more, reblog, and find giving information here or give via paypal here.

chingaderita is raising funds to cover various necessities and healthcare for themselves and their family, which has been struggling after having to move into an unsafe living situation after a house fire. You can read more and support the fundraiser here.

And this has been Radio Free Monday! Thank you for your time. You can post items for my attention at the Radio Free Monday submissions form.

[vimse]

Ah wow it’s almost 2025, which means it’s time for the yearly art recap. Time flies when you’re struggling through your thesis, but I’m very pleased to scrounge up at least one Tech drawing per month. I’ll do a (not so) short reflection about my 2024 art under the cut if you’re interested, but for now, I’d like to express my greatest gratitude for everybody who has stuck around and shared my art. Hoping that 2025 will be a more productive art year. Byeee 🧡

Tl;dr under the cut: ramblings about my struggle in school, 2024 highlights, hopes and dreams next year

—

Let’s look back at last year’s summary:

What's next in 2024?

More Tech. Some things I'd like to explore in 2024 is character drawings beyond portraits, anatomy, simple backgrounds, OCs, storytelling through short comics, TBB band au, and maybe some commission work

Well, safe to say I didn’t get too much of that done haha. The reason for that is I’ve been really struggling with my undergraduate thesis work in chemistry. I don’t really know the root cause of it, but I just can’t bring myself to finish it and I’ve been procrastinating badly, so much that I’ve missed two presentation opportunities. The third opportunity is within 2 weeks and I’m nowhere finished or ready. It has been a constant source of stress and anxiety throughout 2024. I got burned out by the end of May and went to the school counsel to hand in my resignation notice, but got convinced to stick around but to finish it at a later date, because this is literally the last thing to do before I get my degree. Then afterwards I decided to go back to my old job full time, which has been very tiring and took a long time to adjust to. This is very obviously reflected in the amount of full illustration produced during July to October, especially September when I couldn’t bring myself to draw anything beyond Tech’s hand lol.

If I don’t finish my thesis in time for this round, I think I’ll finally throw in the towel for real. Maybe I’ve doomed my future or something but…this experience has made me feel incredibly (and constantly) bad for a whole year, and it has affected every aspect of my life. I’m very tired of it. And although my current job is very tiresome and probably detrimental to my health, it pays well and the colleagues are wonderful. Additionally, it is a niche job that I have years of experience in, with good connections, so I’m not currently worrying about my future job at all. And it’s still within the chemistry industry, so all the time I spent in school isn’t going to waste. In regard to my future, I’m more worried about wasting all of it on a conventional 7-16 job, of which I don’t think a degree in analytical chemistry would help me avoid anyways.

Okay, I’ve rambled enough. If you’re still here, thank you. Now, let’s look back to some positive highlights in my art year of 2024:

I think I’ve finally reached the point where I’m content with how I draw Tech. As evident by the picture above, it’s sort of consistent too, which is a bonus.

I joined my first zine!! It’s the Pabu Days zine and I can’t wait for everyone to get their copy of it. Everybody’s pieces are amazing. I wish I did better/more, but the creation period was during the worst time of my year, mental health-wise, and I have to accept that it was the best I could do at the time.

As for the “masterpiece” of 2024, my most proudest work is the CX-Tech piece I did during the height of TBB season 3. I’m incredibly happy with how the rim lights turned out and the overall mood of it. Also the texture on the armour turned out sooo good, I can’t believe I was the one who painted it lol. I wish I could personally show the picture from my monitor, because all the details seem to disappear when viewed on tumblr. Below is the illustration I’m talking about, along with a side by side comparison to the picture I referenced the lighting from + some closeups. Looking back at it now, I wish I added a stronger frontal light source, so that the picture isn’t so dark.

Also, extra shout out to the back study series. I am traditionally not a painter (just grew up as an anime weeb) so making these this was an incredible accomplishment.

With that, I’m wrapping this very long post (sorry) with some 2025 hopes and dreams. Basically it’s the same things I wanted to do in 2024: improve anatomy, more background, work on OC, work on AUs. I want to try very hard to make commissions happen next year, if people are still interested. Something else I want to do that isn’t strictly art related is to connect more with people, especially with those who are still hyperfixated on TBB as I am. I find it hard to socialise on tumblr, but I try to be more social on bluesky. Idk, I think it would be fun to find a small active community that is maybe more focused on clones and oc stuff.

Okay, that’s all! If you’ve made it this far, thank you thank you thank you. Have a happy holiday and may your 2025 be a wonderful, wonderful year.

🧡 vimse

[wilsons-journey]

Bringing this up again - I wish everyone some wonderful and cozy days ♥

Happy holidays!

I hope you have some cozy days, with your favorite food and people around you! And if you have to face these days alone, I'm sending you some extra love and warm hugs! ♥

-- Some personal words under the cut

Also I want to thank you all for a wonderful year here on tumblr. You are awesome! ♥

Every fav, reblog or the kind and lovely words in the tags/comments fill me with joy. Thank you so much for that! I'm not always response to them, but I assure you: I read everything! And it makes me smile a lot - it also keeps me going.

I'm glad you enjoy my art and silly post - but also my Blorbos. I hope the next year is also filled with a lot of creativity! But I'm confident that the upcoming year will be good, too.

So much has changed - I managed to fight my anxiety and dark thoughts a little more. And with that my mental health is in a very good place, like it hasn't been for a long time.

I met so many lovely people via Discord, Tumblr or directly though the game. I'm so grateful to have you in my life. You cant imagine how much that means to me.

Thank you for taking me the way I am. Thank you for being patient with me. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. ♥

Sending you a lot of love and warm hugs ♥ ♥ ♥