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 overkill [tw], petra&hashie
Dec 19 2016, 02:23 AM
he/him
twenty-four


animal morphing
waiter/cake decorator/art student
hashir k. zabir
leesha [idc] • 378 posts


I worry over situations

It was the stupidest thing. It had started with getting on to a different bus. Hash hadn't really thought much of it at the time, just wanted to get up to something different on his day off. He'd thought maybe it would be nice to go somewhere other than home after dropping off a final project, since there would be no Damian waiting for him. That had then turned to an excuse to try and do some Christmas shopping as well as go somewhere different, which still all was fine and well. It wasn't until he'd randomly got off the bus and noted that for once he wasn't anxious about being out on his own in a strange place that everything went to hell.

He had tried to just go about his adventure without worrying about it, but the thought wouldn't leave him. The thought had planted itself firmly in his brain, and he wasn't exactly in a spot that catered to shopping, and everything got worse fast. It was freezing and this was a stupid idea. He had already walked away from the bus stop, and so his brain told him he wasn't fucking allowed to go back to it in case someone had noticed him. He couldn't have someone potentially judging him for his stupid choices, so he was going to have to find another one. The problem was that he had no clue where he was. His last hope was looking it up on his phone or calling a cab (or maybe even Panda, because that wouldn't cost him anything but his patience), and that was okay, but of course his phone was dead. It wasn't entirely a shock that his shitty phone had died on him yet again, he hadn't fully charged it before leaving the apartment, but it still tipped him over the edge of pretending to be okay in to a full anxiety attack.

He could feel his heart rate pick up immediately, standing in the snow with his dead phone in a newly trembling hand. This wasn't okay. Nothing was okay. He was lost and on his own and he couldn't even call for help. How far did he have to go for a bus stop? When would the bus he needed show up? What time even was it? He didn't know, he didn't wear watches when he normally had a phone to rely on. He couldn't go back to the old bus stop, because now, unsurprisingly, he'd started to cry- that would just give anyone there even more reason to judge him for being stupid. He was just going to have to stand in the cold in the snow, wiping tears that refused to stop, choking in breaths because his chest felt like it was full of sand.

I know we'll be alright, Perhaps it's just imagination
Dec 25 2016, 09:13 PM
he/him
twenty three


wing manifestation
ballet dancer
petra s. baumann
haven [they/them] • 7519 posts


CAN YOU CHILL
stop freaking out for a second
It was fucking cold out. Maybe a leather jacket didn't do much against the cold. But a leather jacket over a sweater over a long sleeved t-shirt should have done something. It was probably the giant fucking wings sticking out of all the layers of clothing and letting the cold air sneak in against Petra's skin. The feathers did a bit to stop it, but nothing was perfect or ideal. Petra's little nose felt red and runny. He was only really grumpy because of the weather. Even those emotions were enough to make Sim, his boyfriends service dog, stay close by his dad's side. The giant Goldendoodle seemed always to know when his dad's were at their most vulnerable. Walks in the freshly fallen snow weren't more important than Petra and Cos' well-being to the dog. And that was honestly amazing.

Cos would have been with him, but he had to study. Petra said he'd take Sim out, the poor dog was often inside unless Cos was taking him too and from school, and then Sim was usually working. Usually, Sim was a well-behaved dog. He walked next to Petra, never pulled, and was always good when other dogs were around. His training had done him well. Petra was just lighting a cigarette, leash looped around his wrist, when all of that was proved wrong. Sim tugged on his leash, heading down a street Petra wasn't planning on going down. "Sim, c'mon" Petra said, and usually that was all it took to get him back on track. Sim just tugged harder though, already pointed down the street, whining and looking back at Petra. "What's up, Simcha?" Petra wondered in almost a pet baby voice. Almost. He didn't talk to Sim like he was a baby. Never.

With a last tug, Petra let Sim choose the way. He supposed it might have been bad for discipline, but he was too cold to argue. Maybe they'd cut down the street, and then cross back to head back to the apartment. Maybe not the longest walk, but Petra was cold and missed his boyfriend. Kinda gay. It was then that Petra noticed someone standing on the sidewalk, but that wasn't ever a big deal. He ordered Sim to heel, because he was still tugging. He might have to mention this to Cos. Wait, was the person crying? The street was quiet in the way a snow covered street could be, and Petra could hear something that sounded like sobbing.

Fuck, wait, Petra knew this person. He realized this as they drew closer, as he tried to reign Sim in so they could pass the boy in peace. But he knew him. Mostly as oh, him, the dog guy, the guy who sometimes complimented him but they mostly shared shifty glances. He couldn't remember his fucking name, though. And while Petra couldn't assume, he knew an anxiety attack when he saw one. Or that was what his immediate conclusion was, because he was slowing and Sim was whining at the guy like he would when Cos got like that. "Sim. Good boy," he tugged the dog back, not sure if the....dog guy(what the fuck was his name?) would want a dog all up in his face. Petra didn't know. "Hey, hey," he directed this at the boy. Petra had stopped in front of him, but was keeping a respectable distance. He knew sometimes Cos didn't like to be touched if he was having an anxiety attack. "Hey, guy, focus on me, okay? I'm Petra. I know Panda. And Shawn," he knew Shawn too, that was right. "Can you answer some questions for me? You can just nod or shake your head. Focus on breathing," he instructed, trying what he remembered worked for Cos.

tag: hashie <3 u <3
notes: bork bork
Jan 4 2017, 12:40 AM
he/him
twenty-four


animal morphing
waiter/cake decorator/art student
hashir k. zabir
leesha [idc] • 378 posts


I worry over situations

Hashir didn't know what he wanted, but of all things it may have been he knew it wasn't Petra. Under normal circumstances he probably would have noticed it was him quicker, would have known the smell of his cigarettes in the air, might have picked up the curls and the leather and taken it as a sign to go. But he didn't know where] to go, and it wasn't until he'd already frozen in place that he even noticed it was in fact Petra. He recognised his voice more than anything. He was too stuffed up to smell him, and the continuous tears made it a little difficult to actually focus on his face, but he knew it was him.

He had no real reason to dislike the guy. There was just something about him that rubbed him the wrong way, and it seemed to be entirely mutual. But he dressed nice, and his hair was kind of nice, and they'd both given the odd complement back and fourth between fits of scowling at each other. But now he wasn't so sure about how to feel. He didn't feel threatened by him, but this wasn't exactly a good time to be seen by him, and his wings were kind of terrifying him. He didn't feel very doggy, but it was always just right under the surface ready to react to weird dumb things like big spooky wings. And the words 'good boy'. His heart stopped for a second until he'd noticed it wasn't directed at him, and he was pretty sure that was good but it also broke his little puppy heart a bit.

"I know," he sobbed, and if he wasn't in the middle of freaking out he would have been embarrassed about how hard it was to get two simple words out. Still, lack of embarrassment for the moment or not, he nodded rather than answering again. He didn't have enough lung capacity to talk without it being a giant struggle. He wanted to move closer, just a bit, but the pup in him was scared of what Petra's wings might do. What if they moved? He tried to calm his breathing, looking finally to the dog Petra had at his side. He never (sober) gave in to his wants to be around other dogs, but he felt himself take a step forward and stick his hand out before the thought had even processed. Hashir hesitated, but he wasn't scared of the dog (he was a good boy, he could feel it and he'd heard Petra confirm it) so much as he had frightened himself by getting closer to Petra and his giant wings. Petra had told him to do something, hadn't he? Right, breathing. He looked to him and made a point of shakily taking in a deep breath, proving he could listen, that he could be good, too.

I know we'll be alright, Perhaps it's just imagination
Jan 9 2017, 09:58 PM
he/him
twenty three


wing manifestation
ballet dancer
petra s. baumann
haven [they/them] • 7519 posts


CAN YOU CHILL
stop freaking out for a second
This was probably a bad idea. As soon as Petra stopped he wanted to jet. Take Sim home for being disobedient (even if it was in the name of someones mental health). Hashir and Petra didn't have the best of relationships, and having the moody bird was probably the last thing the dog needed. But, well, it was too damn late. Petra tried not to be too grumpy, or hate the way Hash still looked beautiful with tears clinging to his stupidly long lashes. He tried not to be mad at Sim for bringing him into this tense situation. He'd just - make sure the guy was okay and then be on his way. Simple.

It wouldn't really be simple though. Petra sighed, watching Hashir stick out his hand and Sim eagerly surged forward for pets, pushing himself into it. He was good for that, for being eager yet patient. If he'd had his teddy bear around he'd be trying to push it into Hashirs hand. Or something. Petra let the leash go a little, shuffling his feet back. He didn't like the close proximity, didn't like any of this. He'd been so self-assured before but now had no idea what to say or do. He couldn't very well just be on his way like 'right well be seeing you then'. No one would have to know but Petra might feel bad. Maybe. This was the dog guy, though.

"There you go, just like that," his words kind of came as automatic. He'd do the right thing. "Do you know where you are?" Cos often would get disorientated, but Petra might of been confusing that with his seizures. He swallowed, nervous, lifting up an arm and rubbing the back of his curly head. "Do you need me to call someone?" probably his far too cheerful boyfriend. Petra supposed that he could text Shawn or Panda too, they might be better equipped for this. It would be a real nightmare if he had to deal with the happy dimple man.

tag: hashie <3 u <3
notes: bork bork
Jan 22 2017, 08:15 PM
he/him
twenty-four


animal morphing
waiter/cake decorator/art student
hashir k. zabir
leesha [idc] • 378 posts


I worry over situations

Apparently he was feeling more doggy than he'd initially thought, because before he had to chance to stop himself he'd crouched right down to accept every ounce of puppy comfort he could get. He was already stuffed up, and if he ended up with a rash from fur and puppy licks then it would be well worth it. For a boy who claimed to hate dogs he already felt better, full on sat on the ground now despite the cold wet snow, still crying but grinning now as well while Sim licked his face. The cold seeping in, the curly fur between his fingers, even Petra awkwardly trying to help seemed to bring himself back to a more reasonable level. Or as reasonable as one could be while sitting in the snow in jeans.

He shook his head in answer at first, still mostly trying to bury his face in Simcha's fur. "Jus' took a random bus," he answered, peaking up over a curly head to another curly head. His ass was cold, and his hands were absolutely freezing, but his back felt like it was on fire. He was pretty sure he was sweating. But that was just what anxiety was, wasn't it? Sitting in the snow with icy death hands and still somehow managing to sweat. Allowing someone who would probably happily leave him crying in the snow to help despite the odds. "Phone died," he continued, and there was his heart rate picking back up, "don't even know Damian's number." It felt awful to him in the moment, when the only person he really wanted was his boyfriend. Which left him with deciding if he'd ask Petra to call the dumbass or Shawn.

He didn't want to deal with Panda, but he also didn't want to bother Shawn. Plus, wet bum or not, he was enjoying the warm mess of curls in his arms. "What's his name?" he asked instead, practically nose to nose with the pup. He knew dog language. He knew it was safe to be entirely in his space, knew that it made him feel safe.

I know we'll be alright, Perhaps it's just imagination
Feb 11 2017, 06:22 PM
he/him
twenty three


wing manifestation
ballet dancer
petra s. baumann
haven [they/them] • 7519 posts


CAN YOU CHILL
stop freaking out for a second
Petra just knew so little about Hashir. That wasn't usually a problem, Petra didn't know a lot about a lot of people. But he also wasn't actively trying to help strangers out of anxiety attacks. Hell, he couldn't even fucking remember the guys name. Hashir had always seemed to be a little similar to Petra. Dark, moody, aesthetic. That wasn't a huge basis though. The choice of a boyfriend alone told Petra they were dissimilar enough he didn't want to fraternize with Hash. Opposites might have attracted, but Petra just felt - prickly, around this guy. Like he was in some kind of competition. And outside of dance, Petra hated competitions.

It was pretty surprising when Hashir just sat himself in the snow. Petra shifted again, obviously uncomfortable, but didn't say anything. Sim at least seemed happy at this. The dog would be a hell of a lot more comfort than Petra ever could be. He'd just be here to do things a dog couldn't. Like phone people. It seemed odd too that Hashir would just 'hop on a random bus'. Oh well, that was beyond the point. "I could call Shawny, or Panda.Or a cab, if you know your address," anything just to get him out of here. To make Petra feel less awkward about knowing Hash was probably freezing his ass off in the snow - literally. He wasn't going to offer him his fucking jacket. It was leather.

"Simcha," he offered, still working around the weird throat noise in the middle of the dogs name. "He answers to Sim too, though. He's uh - Cos' seizure dog. But he was trained for therapy as well," so much fucking easier than talking about anything else. Petra could go on about Simcha any day, who's tail was thumping happily against Petra's leg. The dog fucking loved to help.

tag: hashie <3 u <3
notes: bork bork

Mar 4 2017, 02:43 AM
he/him
twenty-four


animal morphing
waiter/cake decorator/art student
hashir k. zabir
leesha [idc] • 378 posts


I worry over situations

The cold grounded him, stopped him from clocking out. The dog was truly what was helping the most, though. He'd never truly had the company of a pup while sober and upset, and it was nice. Nicer than normally being around dogs. Or maybe it was just this dog. He felt like already they understood each other, or maybe he was just desperate for someone, anyone, other than Petra to come to his rescue.

"Shawny," he mumbled happily, not really meant as an answer but more the inability to keep it in his mouth. Shawny. What a sweet nickname coming from someone who probably would jump in front of a car to avoid this situation with him. But that was Shawn, a joy to everyone. Did Petra relax around Shawn like Hash did? Did he like to rest his head on their shoulder like Hash did? What was their friendship like, what was any friendship with Petra like? Probably not too horrible if he had the dog with him.

He couldn't seem to pull himself back up from the ground, couldn't take his fingers out of this dog's- Simcha's fur. "Simcha," he repeated, testing it out and grinning so big a few more tears rolled down his cheeks when Sim perked up at his name. It made his heart hurt to think that his new fluffy friend maybe was only here because he was upset. It made him feel a little better to think he'd been searched for, that Sim knew he needed help and so here he was. "S'at what this was about? Therapy?" He nuzzled back in to the curls, "mrmermeme."

I know we'll be alright, Perhaps it's just imagination
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