#i just have been feeling a lot if anxiety about this

[alotofpockets]

Press conference | Mary Earps x Lioness!Reader

Where Mary and the team help ease your social anxiety that is triggered by a press conference

A/n: I can't find this request anymore, but if you requested this, thank you!

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.7k

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You should’ve known that scoring a hattrick in a crucial game would get you a lot of attention from the media, but in the moment you had been solely focussed on playing the best football you could and getting your team the win. But once the final whistle blew and you were hugging your teammates on the field, a staff member took you to the side and led you to one of the interview booths placed on the pitch. 

The panic on your face as you walked with him to the reporter was immediately noticed by your girlfriend. Mary dropped the conversation she was having instantly, and made her way over to you. 

“So, y/n, scoring a hattrick to get the team back in the lead, that is incredible. Can you walk us through it?” Your eyes were everywhere but the journalist or the camera. When you noticed a familiar pair of boots standing in your line of vision, you looked up and locked your eyes on Mary. She gave you a reassuring nod. With your eyes focussed on her calming ones you attempted to answer the question. “Well, we were 2-0 behind, and we had to win.” Mary watched you with pride, which gave you a little more confidence to continue your sentence. “We fought back hard, and I just happened to be in the right places at the right times.” 

Mary shook her head with a proud smirk, you were always one to be humble. Focussing on the team effort rather than your own accomplishments, something she loved dearly about you. As the questions of the reporter continued on, she saw you getting more anxious. With one pleading look her way, she was by your side. “What a match huh?” Mary chimes in with her arm around your shoulder in comfort.

Where you struggled with social anxiety, your girlfriend thrived in social situations. You were happy to have her by your side, so some of the attention would be away from you. Mary interacted with the reporter and all the voices around you moulded into static sound as your eyes unfocussed once more. 

Not visible from the view of the camera, you were trying to ground yourself by playing with the fabric on the back of Mary’s jersey. Mary knew you were struggling, so she ended the interview by saying, “If you don’t mind, we’ve got some celebrating to do.” The reporter said of course, and after a quick thank you, Mary guided you away. 

“I- I can’t-” Mary held you closer to her side. “I know baby, we’re not joining the team, we’re going inside. I’ve got you.”

Mary led you to the locker room, which was empty as your teammates were still celebrating on the field. When you sit down in your cubby, the reality of the moment fully comes crashing down, making your breathing start to be irregular. Mary kneels down in front of you, “Hey baby, eyes on me.” She lifts your chin, and places her other hand reassuringly on your knee. “Follow my lead, alright?” You nod and breathe along with her, slowly getting your breathing back to its normal pattern. 

When you were wiping away your tears, your captain walked in. “Hey, I saw you two wander off and wanted to check if everything was alright.” Leah sat down besides you while Mary was still tracing patterns on your upper thigh. 

“Yeah, I’m alright. My anxiety just got the better of me during the interview.” The team knew about your struggles with anxiety, and had been there for you every step of the way. “Alright, take your time here, and let me know if there’s anything I can do for you, okay?” YOu smile and nod, “Thanks Lee.” 

Once you feel ready again, you head back to celebrate the quarter final win with the team on the field. When you were walking around the stadium connecting with fans, you noticed either Mary or Leah were only a few steps away from you. Strangely your social anxiety often stayed away when you were just interacting with fans, maybe because you once were the little girl in the stands waiting to meet your favourite players. 

Back at the hotel you were desperately in need of some quiet time, so you went to your room immediately. Your roommate Lucy joined you, the two of you were talking when Leah knocked on your door. 

“Hey so Sarina wants you to do the press conference with us tomorrow. I wanted to give you a heads up, so you could prepare yourself.” The panic you felt earlier instantly came back. A press conference was even worse than just a camera and a reporter, here a room would be filled with reporters, cameras and microphones.

Both Lucy and Leah noticed the signs and stepped into action. Lucy texted Mary before she sat down besides you, “I used to hate anything media related as well. It made me so nervous, but over the years I got better with it.” Leah sitting on your other side chimes in, “Yeah, I felt the same way. Maybe we can help you prepare for tomorrow, so it will be less scary?” 

When Mary joined, the four of you went over some basic questions that were often asked so you could prepare some answers. They also each told you about their strategies to stay calm and grounded during press moments. So, when it was time for the press conference, you at least had the slight feeling like you wouldn’t just shut down entirely. 

You wave to the crowd and instantly find Mary and Lucy in both corners of the room. Mary’s words played in your head. “You’ve got this, baby. Just focus on me if you start to feel anxious. We’re all here for you.” Leah walks behind you, “Remember, we’ve all been there. Just take it one question at a time. You’re not alone.” She whispers in your ear, and with a reassuring squeeze to your shoulder, she sits down in the seat beside you.

The reporters started by questioning Sarina about the line-up for the final. Your eyes met Mary’s, who watched you with a confident smile on her face. She sent you a thumbs up which made you smile. Sarina being questioned first gave you some time to get used to the room of people. 

“Sarina, can you walk us through the process of choosing tomorrow’s line up?” A reporter asks. “Certainly. Like always we considered the strengths and tactics of our opponents, as well as our recent form, and the health amongst our players. As it’s a final against a strong team we aim to play a balanced lineup that can adapt both defensively and offensively.” 

The reporter thanks Sarina, and the next reporter is pointed out. “Leah, how did you feel about the team’s chemistry on the pitch yesterday?” Leah nods along to the question before answering. “Our communication really strengthened in the second half. I think we’re in a great place, but need to focus on starting with the same level of communication that we ended yesterday’s match with.” The same reporter turned his attention to you. 

“Y/n, you scored the winning goals, how did you feel at that moment?” Your eyes find Mary. “Yeah, it felt good. I was just focussed on the goals, and doing my best for the team.” The reporter nods and moves on.

A few questions later, and you’re the one being questioned again. “Y/n, can you talk a bit about the pressure you feel as one of the star strikers of the Lionesses, especially after a performance like yesterday?” Your chest tightens slightly, so you nudge Leah under the table like you had practised. “Well, first off, I’d like to say that I don’t see myself as a star striker. All the forwards, and the rest of the girls are all incredible players, and a win is a team effort.” While you felt yourself getting more anxious, you felt the need to give credit to your fellow teammates. 

“But we handle pressure by staying focussed on our training and supporting each other on and off the field. Leah, do you maybe have something to add to this topic as the team’s captain?” Another sign that you had practised if things got too much for you. So, Leah took over instantly. “Yeah definitely. Besides the support we have for each other, we have strategies in place to manage stress and keep our performances consistent. We’re a team in all aspects of the game.”

The interview continues and you focus on Mary and Lucy at the back when answering the questions instead of looking at the reporters or the camera’s. 

“Leah, any final thoughts on yesterday’s performance?” The interview was coming to an end and you sighed in relief. “I am proud of the team. Everyone played their part, and we ended strong. Looking forward to doing the same in the final tomorrow.”

Then the final question was sent your way. “Y/n, any personal goals you’ve set for tomorrow.” You take a second before answering, but when Mary nods her head you feel ready for one more question. “Just to keep contributing to the team’s success in any way I can.” 

The press conference ends, and Leah leads you out of the room with her arm around your shoulder. “You did it!” She exclaims once you’re away from the cameras. Mary and Lucy made their way out of the room as well. “You did great out there.” Lucy nudges your shoulder. Mary wraps her arms around you, “I am so proud of you, you did amazing.”

Their reassurances meant more than they probably thought they did. You felt proud of yourself as well. You did something you never thought you’d be able to do, and they were there for you every step of the way.

“Come on, let’s get ready to leave. We can cuddle on the bus.” Mary led you back to the hotel rooms, followed by both Leah and Lucy. “Thank you all, I couldn’t have done it without you.” 

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#mary earps #mary earps x reader #mary earps imagine #engwnt x reader #engwnt #engwnt imagine #lionesses #lionesses x reader #manchester united women #man united wfc #man united women #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso imagines

[astraystayyh]

chan x reader. hurt and lots of comfort. description of an anxiety attack and its aftermath (based on my own experiences).

please consider donating for gaza through my kofi. we have exceeded 1k dollars and our goal is 1500! a little goes a long way, you can donate as much as you can! thank you

If you remain still long enough, breathe as quietly as you can muster, would the world forget you exist and pass your anxiety along to somebody else?

A selfish question, perhaps, but one that you can’t help but ask as you sit on your freezing bathroom floor, knees tightly hugged to your chest.

You don’t know how long it’s been since you’ve sat in this position. Time suddenly seemed elusive to you, as if a concept too hard for your frantic heart to grasp. All you knew was the ache of your limbs and the feeling that doom was just around the corner.

It was one of those days where you woke up feeling anxious. As if your brain had made up its mind about you in your sleep, deciding to hold you hostage to your anxiety. The bed was cold, your boyfriend Chan long gone to his studio, his lingering cologne the only indication he was ever there. So, you tried to distract yourself throughout the day— going on a walk, listening to music, cleaning your house, but it didn't help. Nothing seemed to help you.

So here you were, hours later, sat on your bathroom floor, trying to calm yourself down, all alone. But you could tell that it wasn't working, that you were on a losing race against your own body. Soon, you wouldn't be able to control your anxiety, soon it would turn into a full blown attack.

You wanted to call Chan, you truly did, but he was busy, and you refused to be a burden. Especially since he told you through texts that he'd be home late, so that definitely meant that he was making a new track in his studio.

So, you settled on rocking yourself back and forth, your hands slowly moving up to your shoulders, patting yourself down. This is what you used to do before knowing Chan. When you didn't have anyone around you who understood. You’d trick your bruised mind into believing you were hugged, the warmth of your own touch easing your anxiety a little.

But tonight it had the opposite effect. Tonight, you broke down in sobs, your breathing more irregular than ever. You curled into a ball on the floor, your hand moving to your chest in a futile attempt to slow down your heart. You could no longer breathe, the air in your lungs morphing into unkind fingers, choking you from within. White dots started dancing in front of your eyes, as your entire being shook like a lone leaf, left to fend for itself before the unyielding winds.

It suddenly got too much— the sobs, the pain, the ache. You couldn't bare it anymore. So with trembling hands, you unlocked your phone, calling the only person who would be able to calm you down. Chan. You put the phone on speaker, before tossing it on the ground next to you. You couldn't even muster the energy to hold it to your ear.

“Hi my love, I'm a bit busy right now can I call you later?” Chan's rushed words ring through the bathroom, your anxiety intensifying before the possible antidote. “Honey?” he asks again when he doesn’t hear your reply.

“Chan—“ you sob, the only word your weighted tongue allows you to speak of.

“I’m here, I'm here baby. I'm coming right now,” his panicked voice rings through your ears, following the frantic rush of your boiling blood. The sound of shuffling indicates that he’s getting up and leaving the studio, the confused ‘what’s going on?’ Han shouts confirms it.

The only reply you give him is your sobs, and his heart constricts, twists and turns at the sound of your cries. “Hey, hey, sweetheart. It’s okay, you’re okay. Breathe for me, okay? Take a deep breath with me, please—” his voice breaks, “please baby.”

You try, with all your will, to force a steady breath to rise from your stomach to the tip of your tongue. It escapes faintly, but Chan catches it. “You’re doing well, baby. Fuck—” he turns on his car’s engine. “Um… Minho bit my ass today.”

His words catch you off guard, the gears in your mind stopping for a split second. You remember a faint conversation under your covers, months ago, when you told him that distractions help you when you’re anxious. Force you to redirect your thinking somewhere else.

He remembered.

“Was it tasty?” you breathe out, and he chuckles, a sweet sound intermingled with a sigh of relief. “I don’t know, I need to ask him baby.��

You nod though he can’t see you, willing yourself to breathe again. In, out, in, out, Chan’s own breathing guiding you. “Should I bite him in return?” he asks. Tears pool in your eyes once again. “I’m close, so close,” he reassures.

“Okay.”

“To the biting?”

“Mm,” you manage to hum, as you hear the door of your apartment open, Chan's hurried steps echoing in your home. You knew he was looking for you but you couldn't call out to him. After painfully long seconds, stretching out as if to torture you even more, he finally opens the bathroom floor.

He finally finds you.

“It's okay, I'm here. I'm here,” he wastes no time before scooping you into his arms and hugging you. He knows that the pressure eases your anxiety so he tightens his hold without you having to say so, pulling you as close as two pages of the same book.

With you on his lap, he starts rocking back and forth, his words coming out a jumble mess. He can’t settle on what to say to you, switching between stupid jokes his friends told him, and words of reassurance he repeats like a promise.

His words break, his tongue faltering each time your sob gets louder, but he speaks. He speaks and speaks for twenty minutes, all to distract you, all to keep you grounded, and safe.

After a long while, the storm finally passes, leaving behind an excruciating exhaustion. You turn into a puddle in his hold, softening like malleable clay. He holds you as gently as a porcelain vase.

His warm palms settle atop your cheeks, his eyes gazing into yours for the first time since he got here. A sheen glaze taints them, one you know is mirrored in your own. His thumbs gently swipe away your remaining tears, grazing your face with a tenderness that makes your being ache. Your lips press a faint kiss onto his palm, his find their way to your forehead, and you feel it all, through his kiss. His fear, his relief, his love, soft and gentle, for you.

“Thank you,” you whisper, voice slightly hoarse as you kiss his forehead back.

“I’ve got you my love. Always,” he smiles at you softly, his dimples appearing like the sun after a cold day.

“Did Minho really bite you?” you giggle faintly, and he scratches his ear sheepishly. “No, but I don’t put it past him to do it.”

“Is that something you’re into?” You cock a teasing eyebrow at him, and he shakes his head, his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek. “Only if it’s you,” he says as he wraps his arm around your waist, picking you up swiftly.

“I’ll consider,” you yawn, wrapping your arms around his neck, your face finding a refuge in the crook of his neck.

“Why thank you,” he smiles as he leads you to your bedroom, settling you gently atop the bed. He quickly climbs in with you, bringing you so close to him, his warmth ends up spreading through your entire being, filling up every nook and cranny of your soul.

“I think as long as you’re near, I’ll always be okay,” you say, as your eyes close slowly, you miss the tender smile that blooms in his face at your words.

“Good thing I exist to be near you, then.”

please consider donating for gaza through my kofi. we have exceeded 1k dollars and our goal is 1500! a little goes a long way, you can donate as much as you can! thank you

#this was actually the first thing ive ever written for skz #though i never posted it// i just tweaked it a bit today #im posting it mainly to reach more ppl in stayblr for the donations but please enjoy regardless! #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz x you #stray kids x you #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #skz reactions #stray kids reactions #skz fluff #skz angst #stray kids fanfic #stray kids angst #chan x reader #chan x you #chan fluff #chan angst #skz hurt/comfort #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios

[quinnylouhughesx43]

“I think I’m in love”

Summary: Trevor is having a hard time being away from you while he is with Team USA for the Men’s World Championship. Seeing his teammates and crossing paths with other teams with their significant others only intensifies all his feelings.

Warnings: use of pet names (babe, baby), angst, worry/anxiety, overthinking, fluff, I think that’s it

Word Count: 1.34K

It had only been 72 hours since Trevor had left the United States and he was truly miserable. He felt as if every where he looked when he was off the ice there was a couple. It was nearly impossible to not run into someone he knew from the league, just to be introduced to their significant other. “Seriously since when did everyone had their significant other with them.” Trevor asked Matt Boldy as he laced up skate. “Trevor, I think you’re over reacting. It just seems that way to you because your girl isn’t here.” Matt stands to walk off to the ice. Trevor shakes off his thoughts, or tries to shake off his thoughts.

Trevor wasn’t playing well, his focus was off. His heart really wasn’t in it at all. Cole and Luke had taken notice of how he was struggling and were off talking on the side in between drills.

“Do you think this has something to do with his girlfriend?” Luke asked Cole watching Trevor completely miss Brady for the passing drill. “I’m sure it does. I noticed him watching different couples when we were eating last night. I had to remind him it’s rude to stare. I also noticed Z hasn’t smiled like normal since we got here.” Luke couldn’t answer Cole as Trevor skated up and it was their turn to skate. Trevor’s head was lost in his thoughts when Coach dismissed practice. “Let’s go Z! We’re done” Luke yelled out.

After changing and heading back to the hotel the three boys were piled up in Trevor’s room. “Alright man talk. What’s going on with you? You look like you lost your long time pet or something.” Cole said flopping on his back next to Trevor. “I just miss her a lot. She couldn’t or wouldn’t come for some reason. And I’m worried we will grow apart. And, and” Trevor started to stutter over his words. Feeling a knot in this throat forming. Tears forming in his eyes. The pain in his chest that he wrote off as acid reflux earlier started hurting a bit more when his heart raced harder. “And what?” Luke pushed.

“God. I think I’m in love with her and I didn’t tell her. She doesn’t know.”

“What do you mean she doesn’t know?” Cole and Luke ask at the same time. The two boys share a look with each other then look back at Trevor. Trevor shrugs as if it should be the most obvious answer. “We haven’t told each other yet. She’s different you guys. I want to take care of her and provide for her. I look at her and I think about a future. A future where I don’t live in an apartment with in walking distance from the arena I practice and play in. It’s a future where I live in a house big enough for however many children she wants. With a yard so those kids can play outside instead of always being stuck inside. I don’t think about when I can get her naked in my bed. Actually she’s never been naked in my bed. I’ve never seen her naked. But for fuck sake I am in love with her.”

Trevor ran his hands through his hair and exhaled.

“I have never been this serious about anyone. I will go to hell and back for her. I think I am already in hell being this far away from her but that’s besides the point.” The last part earned a laugh out Cole and Luke. The two boys completely baffled by Trevor’s admission about his feelings for his girlfriend. He has always been an open book about most things but never about his feelings.

“Trev, I think it’s time to be honest with her. You need to let her know how important she is to you before she feels neglected.” Cole says giving Trevor a firm grip on his shoulder. “It’s late, we’re going to head out and get rest for tomorrow. Think about telling her and how you want to tell her before you just call her and yap it out there. If she’s endgame, plan it out.” Cole gives Trevor a quick hug before heading out of the room. Trevor feels better letting it all out but he can’t help but mope in loneliness, wondering what you’re doing back home.

While listening to Trevor, Cole was working magic. He had already purchased you a ticket through the US Hockey foundation for a flight. Explaining how down Trevor has been in just the last 72 hours and that he believed you could potentially be the cure all. You were shocked. Confused at best. You kept asking Cole if Trevor had put him up to it. Cole kept assuring you that Trevor has no idea that you have a flight out in the next couple of hours. He asked you, more like begged you, to not say anything to him either. By the time Cole got you your ticket and you had woken up you had 5 hours to pack and get to the airport to be on time for security.

As you were getting ready to turn your phone off Trevor’s face illuminates the screen. He was calling. You quickly decline and shut the phone off. ‘Better safe than sorry’ you tell yourself as your boarding the plane.

When you didn’t answer and then the next calls for the next 14-15 hours. Trevor’s mind was reeling the worry he felt set in deep making him sick, he needed a trash can multiple times. He couldn’t focus anything a while the team was at practice. Trevor ended up leaving practice early from being so sick and his inability to focus on anything. He isn’t one to really leave early, usually he would ride the bench until the end of practice but he couldn’t make himself do it. His anxiety over your safety was much too high. The panic was really starting to set in now that he was alone. Trevor had started thinking of all the possibilities of what could have happened.

1) You had starting ghosting him, he was gone and you realized you didn’t want him.

2) You were in the hospital for some reason or another.

3) Your ex-boyfriend came back around.

He was beside himself with all the thoughts running through his mind. Trevor laid curled up in a ball. Physically sick, a few tears shed, worrying over your well-being when there was a knock on his door.

“Guys I’m really not in a place for—“

“Baby?” Trevor’s voice cracked just as it did when he was going through puberty.

His knees buckled and he all but collapsed down on to his knees wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. “Babygirl. I love you so fucking much. I don’t know how you’re here but I’m glad that you are. I was… I was so worried something happened to you or you were leaving me when you didn’t answer your phone. I just. Fuck. I love you. I’m sorry I never said it before now.” Trevor still on his knees down in front of you, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

“T. You..you love me?” You choked out wearing a huge smile on your face. He looks up at you from where he is at on the floor. “Yes baby. Today, tomorrow. Next week, the rest of your life if you’ll let me.” His eyes shining from new tears threatening the fall as your tears weren’t stopping. “T stand up so I can kiss you silly boy.” He quickly followed what you said. Grabbing his cheeks softly and pulling his face to your’s until his lips are just close enough to touch when you speak. “Trevor Zegras, I love you more than you understand.” He groaned in response pulling you into his room. Before the outside world could be forgotten Cole had to run and yell “you’re welcome Zegras” from the room door until he was acknowledged. All Trevor wants to do is lay in bed holding his precious girl, and tell her how incredibly grateful he is that she is there in Ostrava. He can’t wait to have his chance to show her off to everyone tomorrow.

authors note: hi I’ve been sitting on this for a while. I didn’t have a chance to finish the ending for a while and I didn’t go back and read over the actual story part so if it’s bad I’m sorry don’t hate me don’t judge me it’s been like a month

#trevor zegras fanfic #trevor zegras fic #trevor zegras blurb #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras fanfiction #trevor zegras #trevor zegras fluff #tz11 #trevor zegras imagine #anahiem ducks #nhl writing #nhl fics #nhl x reader #cay writes #cays masterlist #new writers on tumblr #writeblr #trevor zegras pictures #cole caufield #Luke Hughes #oc

[saturns7moon]

just had the fattest astrology realisation about myself bro. majority of the time, i’ve always found myself being attracted to people with virgo/aquarius in their chart, but mainly virgo. and for months i’ve been ITCHING to figure out why that is cus i’m constantly always finding that sign in people’s charts when i have even the littlest bit of attraction them, platonic or romantic.

i’m a sidereal libra sun in the 1H. the sun is in fall in libra, basically meaning it lacks light, where the sun shines for signs like leo and aries, the sun is dark for libra. the sun is the core of our birth charts, the center of what makes our birth charts, basically the human equivalent to our personal identity. it is a common thing for sidereal libras (scorpios) to feel as though they have never truly felt connected with their selves. libras are known to be the sign linked with relationships, libra rules over our house of relationships (7H) opposing their independent counterpart aries who rules our first house of self (1H).

from personal experience, i know libras, especially libra suns, have a very difficult time when it comes to understanding their selves. they find their bits of identity in their relationships because commonly growing up their environment might’ve made them feel as though there wasn’t space for them to grow and understand their selves as individuals, so usually like any child would, they would seek that void in other people, satisfying what they truly want by satisfying others. this is why i’ve observed a lot of people claiming that libras have a hard time being with their selves, leading them to have people pleasing tendencies, and commonly in the astrology community, there is that small joke of how libras cannot choose anything or make an easy choice when it comes to simple things like food, and (i’m taking it to the extreme here so i can really make my point, so i’m not saying that this is fact 😭) usually that’s because libras have never had an easy way to create a choice for their selves. i’ve observed that they don’t know how to form an opinion or choice on something independently without background approval from people as there is a fear or anxiety that they might be making the wrong choice which completely juxtaposes their sister sign aries who is known for their independence, and leading their own route, sometimes forming a sort of hyper independence, which is the shadow side of aries opposed to the anxiety ridden side of libra who is afraid to make a wrong decision.

now leading to where i was going with this, virgos are sidereal leo’s. leo’s are the only sign in the entire birth chart wheel that is ruled by the sun. the sun shines, the sun is hot, the sun gives us light. the sun has many benefits, like giving us our vitamin d and also just boosting any type of energy we may need. yknow how people make that joke where it’s like "when you are out in the sun and all of a sudden all your problems in the world are lifted"? basically what i’m getting at is the sun is a light that benefits us as people greatly. now with astrology, and on my personal experience, i’m a sidereal libra sun like i said, and i have a lot of libra in my chart (sun, rising, jupiter) and i’ve always said to my self, i have a hard time understanding my identity and who i am and what i have. and not saying all signs don’t have their shadow side, we all do. but within the astro wheel, all signs have something that somebody else wants, whether you realise it or not.

personally, all the sidereal leo’s i have met have that light, a sense of sureness, a strong grip of identity that i am lacking within myself. it’s so admirable and beautiful to me to see someone shine the way that they do, and whether they know it or not, sidereal leo’s to me are so such impeccably amazing people. they go for their goals and they never stop no matter the circumstance, and their such a beautiful ball of energy that i wish i was myself.

however this is why i wanted to write this as i got the click of understanding on why usually i always get my heart broken by this sign. i’ve noticed that sidereal leo’s, in all my past relationships, have really left a painful mark on my heart and i just couldn’t understand why before, but thank the lord we have astrology 😭.

the sun is a malefic planet, alongside saturn and mars (in vedic astrology) including rahu and ketu (our north node and south node).

personally, what i’ve gathered, is that virgos (sidereal leo’s) have what i lack, and i’m attracted to them because they have the quality i truly desire within me. however the sun is, as mentioned, a malefic planet because it shows what has to be sacrificed in order to make the most growth. the sun is a giant ball of fire. people commonly use fire to purify something in some cultural practices. to purify means you need to burn and leave something behind. you need to kill something to start again and rejuvenate. kinda like a phoenix. i think because i lack light, i’m constantly looking for that in other people, and as i grow up, i’m starting to understand that i shouldn’t look for my light solely in other people and to start with myself, no matter how scary that may be.

the sidereal leo’s i have and do know in my life have taught me different types of things, good or bad. i’m eighteen and still creating an understanding of who i am as a person, so i’m always gonna be taught different types of things. no matter how the relationship ended between me and a leo, i always hold a certain amount of love and respect for that person as they taught me something special for me to understand more about myself, which is truly what i want in life. to understand me and so i can go and help people understand their self. however, i can’t do that if i’m going out there with no fire within me to burn and constantly leaving failed match sticks behind me in piles.

sidereal leo’s are a light in their selves that i love and adore and hope one day i can come to a place and have that for myself, have that light i can cherish the way they cherish theirs. whether they know it or not. for now i’m still seeking approval from people, subconsciously and consciously, but i’m still growing as a person and hopefully one day i can put something out here without trembling in fear on whether i was wrong and what people would think of me lmao. sometimes idc (aries moon and mars, scorpio mercury) but most times i do 😭. but for now, yeah. we’re all just living and growing.

okay i’m done 😭. this was a bunch of waffle i’ve just been writing for thirty minutes and idek if i make sense half of the time lmao. that was a lot🧍🏾‍♀️. and also i’m so sorry i’ve been gone for so long, i usually only write on here when i get that strike of inspiration that i had just gotten now. idk if i’ll be back again, but i’ll try loves 😕🫶🏾. okay bye bye for now <3.

#astro notes #astro observations #astrology observations #sidereal astrology #vedic astro observations

[oldhalloweentape]

🪨Venture (OW II) x (gn) reader ⛏️

(Peak Miscommunication Short Edition!)

(Picture’s not mine!)

(Request here! Sorry for making you guys wait! I’m currently feeling a bit sluggish from some outside stuff, hope you guys understand!)

- This phase in your relationship, the standstill that could make a platonic one into a romantic one was… Definitely a confusing and frustrating time for the two of you, especially for Venture.

- It was a feeling alien to them, being the beam of confidence, excitement, and bravery in every situation. They were out of their depth and they knew it, being absolutely transfixed on everything you did.

- Confessing and asking for a date felt like climbing Mount Olympus, they are eager to do so to earn your favor but the second they try to get to the peak they freeze, feeling as if Zeus’ thunderbolt has struck them and they’re left scrambling away like a fool.

- They never once felt like this, you had this effect on them that couldn’t possibly fathom. For once in their life of recklessness and glory, they were nervous.

- Getting a grip proved to be a great challenge, their bearings being dashed when you asked them questions based upon their knowledge, their interests, who they were as a person… You had an aura about you that they coveted and it showed rather negatively much to your notice and much to their chagrin.

- The unbecoming behavior of Venture of seemingly making excuse after excuse to get out of your presence after being so kind to you was… Disheartening.

- For you had fallen in love with their antics, their tendencies, their quirks— In general you believed them to be passionate and hoped that one day they’d have that passion for you.

- Eventually, it all becomes too much and you decide to put matters into your own hands and get to the bottom of this erratic mess and figure out why Venture was acting so… out of character.

- On that particular day, they had come to you, so ready to tell you only to have anxiety wracking their system as they froze in place once again before turning a heel— Feeling as if they were in fight or flight mode and opted for the latter option before they were stopped by the sound of your voice and the touch of your hand.

- They weren’t going to get themselves out of this… And that was probably for the best.

Face to face for far longer than they had since they realized their feelings for you, they fought the urge to shrink in on themselves as they took a deep breath before giving you a shaky smile. It didn’t do much to help their case as your gaze hardened a bit, the silence and tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife. You were the one to break the silence, your tone calm yet serious as you spoke “Sloane, you’ve been acting… Weird lately, and as someone who cares deeply about you, I can’t ignore it. I can barely get a sentence in without you running off to god knows where— It just… It feels like you’re trying to distance yourself—“

“No! No no— I’m— It’s nothing like that!” They interjected abruptly, both of your eyes wide from the suddenness before Venture looked down, slumping in on themselves, muttering incoherently as they ran a hand through their hair. “Then… What is it?” You asked, your words had a bit of wavering to them as you placed your other hand on their shoulder, making them feel as if their nerves were on fire, faces flushed as they squeezed their eyes shut. Their resolve was on one thing and one thing only, finally telling you how they felt as they took a deep inhale and then looked up at you. “Reader, I’m so so sorry that this mess came off like that… I’ve been struggling with telling you that…”

Their fists clenched and looked away involuntarily as they cursed in Spanish under their breath, stalling a bit before feeling your hands in their own, making their breath hitch and look at you all wide-eyed— Giving them the courage to say what needed to be said, “I like you— Like… A lot and… I was wondering… Would you like to go on a… Date?”

(…Lord they make me feel so stupid, in a good way.)

#overwatch 2 #venture overwatch #overwatch x reader #venture x reader #venture ow2

[caribbean1989]

Stage Fright - a Baby Lasagna fanfiction

Who: Marko Purisic / Baby Lasagna Request: maybe smt where you work for esc and marko has a panic attack before going on the stage and your there for him calming him down and stuff. just angsty with lots of comfort. Requested by: anonymous. Word count: 2010 Warnings: contains descriptions of panic attack / anxiety / stage fright. Lots of angst, but also some comfort 😇

A/N: I usually write footballer imagines and fandom whump, so writing something like this is quite new to me. Hope you'll like it, let me know what you think of it 😇 If you want me to write more like this, you can always make a request through my Asks 😉

This story can also be found on my AO3 account, here.

At your job working backstage at concerts and events, you were one of the people making sure everything went smoothly backstage, and that the performers had all they needed. This month you would be working at the Eurovision Song Contest. 

Today was the biggest day of all: the final.  You felt confident. Everything had been rehearsed endlessly, the semi-finals had already gone well, and you had built up a good relationship with most of the performers and their entourages. 

It was a nice group of artists this year, but one still was your personal favourite: Baby Lasagna. At first you were drawn to the Croatian candidate because of the rather unusual name, but you quickly learned he went by Marko off-stage, and was somewhat different from the other participants. He was a flamboyant personality on-stage, which proved to be the complete opposite of how his personality was off-stage. 

You didn’t need long to see Marko was actually rather shy, could be very insecure, and was humble and polite. There was a cheeky side to him as well once you got to know him better. You liked that about him, and, without actively trying to, you already formed a rather close friendship with him in only this short time of working together. 

That was why you immediately knew something was wrong when you found Marko sitting alone on the day of the final, huddled away from everything and everyone.  He sat amongst crates of sound equipment, on the floor, in a dark corner of the backstage maze, hugging his knees. His hands were clamped so tightly around his legs that his fingers had turned white, and he trembled like a leaf in the wind.  Marko had chosen a spot far from the foot traffic from and to the stage, hidden even from his own entourage, and it was a small miracle that you stumbled upon him like you had. 

"Marko?" You lowered yourself onto your haunches in front of him, but mindful to keep enough distance between yourselves so not to frighten him or make him feel more uncomfortable.

He looked disheveled, only vaguely aware of his surroundings, and surely not in control of his emotions.  In this moment he was not the extroverted Baby Lasagna, he was introverted Marko. The eccentric costume he wore on stage was replaced by regular jeans and a black hoodie. The make-up wasn’t applied yet, which might be a good thing, because you saw the tears on his face. The haunted look in his eyes scared you, worrying you even more about his well-being. 

Suddenly your mind went to a line from the song he was performing with here this week. 

My anxiety attacks.

Whilst Rim Tim Tagi Dim had people dancing all over the world, you couldn’t help but notice its darker meaning, too. And it clicked into place for you now. That line about anxiety wasn’t just a line. It actually held truth for Marko, and the proof of that was right in front of your eyes with him having a serious panic attack. 

"Marko?" You repeated softly.  His gaze flickered to you, but he didn’t acknowledge your presence in any other way.  "I need you to talk to me," you nudged carefully.  Marko swallowed hard. He made every effort to get himself to speak, but couldn’t. The words he meant to say got involuntarily silenced on their way to his mouth, and, finally, he just sadly shook his head. Fresh tears fell as he rested his forehead on his knees, shrinking even more into himself. 

Your heart broke for him. It was hard to believe you only met him a week and a half ago, with how much you already cared for him. 

Marko shivered in his hoodie. His breaths became even more rapid and shallow, accompanied by the occasional wheeze or whimper. He was losing more and more control over himself with every heartbeat of his racing pulse. Where first maybe only his hands had shook, there now wasn’t a muscle in his body that wasn’t shaking. He raised his head and looked up at you again, this time really seeing you. 

Marko’s lower lip trembled, and it took effort, but finally he got some words out. "Help me…" "I’m trying," you answered helplessly. You wanted nothing more than to help him, take him out of this panic attack, but you really had no idea where to begin. "Do you need me to bring someone from your team over?" "No!" Marko nearly jumped a foot into the air at the mere idea of that. "They don’t need to see me like this. I’m a mess, I…" "Calm down, calm down," you tried to ease. "We can do this. You and I, we can get you through this."

Having suffered from panic attacks yourself, you suddenly remembered what your sister used to do for you to get you to calm down. "Marko." You got his attention. "I want to try something to help you calm down. Are you okay with me touching you?" He still was in the height of his panic attack, with fear wild in his eyes, but he still nodded his head. He wasn’t sure what you had in mind, but he trusted you.

You scooted closer to him, fully sitting down on the floor by his side. Marko trembled heavier than ever and he was truly hyperventilating now. Tears sparkled in his eyes, but he gave in to you. He wanted for you to offer comfort and take him out of this anxiety. 

"Close your eyes," you said softly.  Marko hesitated for just a second, but slowly closed his eyes. He didn’t know you for that long, yet you felt secure and safe to him. "Whenever you’re no longer comfortable with anything I’m doing, you need to tell me," you insisted, "and I’ll stop immediately." Marko gave you a strained nod, but he surrendered to you. 

You moved slowly, making sure not to make any unexpected movements which would cause Marko any more fright.  You placed one of your hands flat on his chest. Only now you realised how heavy this panic attack actually was for him. His chest heaved and trembled under your hand, and now that you were closer to him, you heard the whimpers that were hidden in the wheezes of his breathing.  With your other hand you picked up his wrist, gently pressing two fingers against the pulse point. As you had expected, his heart was racing. 

"I need you to focus on my hand on your chest." You kept your voice as calm and serene as possible. Marko dipped his head once, eyes still firmly pressed shut.  "Whenever I press into your chest, I need you to breathe in through your nose, and try and press my hand away with your chest," you instructed, "when I release the pressure, you exhale slowly through your mouth." Marko wanted to speak, show you he had understood, but he found his words once again stolen from him by the panic attack. Instead, he dipped his head once again, but it was all the confirmation you needed. 

You slowly and gently pressed the palm of your hand a little firmer into his chest.  Marko took a shaky breath. He did his best to get his lungs to fill properly and get his chest to give counter-pressure against your hand, but couldn’t quite manage.  "It’s alright," you eased him, "take your time. Just focus on the rhythm of the pressure of my hand and try to breathe with that." You felt how Marko was really trying to, but also how he wasn’t succeeding yet. His inhales were broken by shudders, and his exhales disrupted by sudden and involuntary gulps.  "That’s it," you encouraged anyway, "easy does it."

Your hand never left his chest as you gently applied pressure and released it, with Marko doing his utmost best to get his breathing to fall in sync with it. You spoke soft encouragements, yet the silent moments in between were filled with Marko’s quiet whimpers.  It didn’t matter to you how long it would take, you would help Marko through this. 

---

Eventually, you sat with Marko like that for well over 30 minutes. There was no reason to rush anything. Soundchecks for the grand finale of tonight wouldn’t be starting for another few hours, so you gave him all the time he needed to pull himself out of this panic attack.

Marko’s pulse had returned to a regular, calm rhythm, as had his breathing. His trembling had subsided, but he sat beside you looking worn out from everything he had just gone through. 

You gently let your hand fall away from Marko’s chest for the first time again. You kept a close eye on him, but he was able to keep his breaths calm by himself now. "Open your eyes," you said softly. Marko slowly did so. Even though the area where you sat was dimly lit, he still squinted at the light. He ran slightly trembling fingers through his silvery hair, before he finally looked up at you sitting next to him. 

"I’m sorry about that." Marko sounded tired. "No need to apologise." You shook your head. "May I ask what happened?" "This happened." Marko chuckled wryly, motioning his hands to the area around you. "I’ve never performed at an event of this magnitude before. And… well, my stage fright took the better of me, I guess. It does that sometimes."

The airiness with which he spoke of his stage fright was pitiful, almost like it was the most common thing in the world for him. "But it doesn’t often get this bad, I reckon," you said sympathetically.  "No." Marko sighed heavily, running his fingers through his hair once more. "It doesn’t usually lead to a full-blown panic attack, and certainly not like this one, but, apparently, big stages lead to big anxiety." A dark chuckle followed. "That’s not even remotely funny," you scoffed. Marko gave a one-shouldered shrug. "I’m used to it by now."

He shifted his body, grunting softly as he stretched his cramped legs out in front of him. He leaned his head back against one of the crates behind him and glanced up at the ceiling for a moment. 

"But what you did really helped me." He spoke after a few seconds of silence. "I’m not quite sure I would have gotten through this one on my own, so I’m really grateful." You shrugged. "I’ve got a bit of experience with panic attacks as well, I’m afraid. So I know how bad they can get."

Marko’s gaze slowly shifted back to you. "Yourself or helping someone deal with it?" "Myself, unfortunately." You sat back into a more comfortable position, too. "Some events in life leave more scars than you can imagine," you added darkly.  "I’m sorry." Marko shortly rested a hand on your arm in support.  "What I just did with you, my sister used to do that for me whenever my anxiety flared up," you explained, "it always helped me through it, so…" You let your voice trail off.  "Well, tell her it’s a good technique." Marko winked lazily. "And I’m glad you’re the one who found me just now. Thank you." The sincere thankfulness was in his voice and in every fibre of his being. 

The two of you talked for a while longer, before Marko slowly hoisted himself back onto his feet. He looked steady again, ready to go, and a glimpse of the extroverted Baby Lasagna shone through the cracks again. 

"Will you be alright?" You stood back up, too.  "Yes." Marko nodded confidently. "I know it sounds strange, especially after what you’ve seen just now, but it feels like I needed to get this out of my system in order to be ready for tonight." You chuckled, glad to see the sparkle of joy back in his eyes, instead of the sparkle of tears and panic. "Come see me if anything threatens to overwhelm you again." Marko nodded gratefully. "I sure will."

#baby lasagna #marko purisic #marko purišić #baby lasagna x reader #marko purisic x reader #baby lasagna imagine #baby lasagna fanfic #baby lasagna fanfiction #marko purisic imagine #marko purisic fanfic #marko purisic fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #eurovision #eurovision 2024 #eurovision fanfic #sarahspostsbabylasagna

[aeternallis]

Ngl, I think a big part of the anxiety a lot of people and myself feel about Colin not knowing about Lady Whistledown before the engagement is because it gives him an opening to shame and rebuke Penelope and the angst that'll ensue from that. At least, in my opinion. Heaven knows it was hella annoying for me to read in the book even after their engagement, sighs.

It's a fine line to tread, in all honesty: how will the showrunners portray Colin's anger and feelings of betrayal at the reveal of Penelope's secret whilst also still maintaining that they are now, in fact, lovers, and on top of that, not making it look like a regression of his character?

In the book, that had been the source of tension between them in the first days of their marriage: Penelope thought Colin was ashamed of her for being LW, while Colin was secretly jealous of Penelope's success as a writer, when he himself is also one.

And to be perfectly honest...ugh, Colin being jealous of Pen's success as LW had always been a thorn on my side when it came to my enjoyment of RMB. Lol Not sure how prevalent this opinion is, but Idk, man...maybe it was due to JQ's writing, but his jealousy seemed petty and childish, yknow? He acknowledges his own flaws for being jealous of Pen's success, and let's be real, this would actually tie in quite nicely with his other insecurity of not having a purpose, but all in all, the execution of that entire arc in the book was just...meh.

The way I see it right now, I'm just not sure how they can elevate that arc beyond "meh," but who knows what'll happen. Prove me wrong, Shondaland~

Personally, I would be a lot more happier if show!Colin heavily leaned more into his protectiveness for Pen, and how much danger she puts herself in that has him so anxious and angry, yknow? And have that be misinterpreted by Penelope as him being ashamed of her, rather than it actually him being jealous of her success. I'd rather he see Pen's success as LW as a source of inspiration for his own writings and hope for success in being published and widely read. :P

Because knowing how Shondaland is, without a doubt, Colin will find out about LW in the worst possible way, if the spoiler pics are anything to go by.

The way I predict it, Cressida will probably announce to the world she's LW in order to collect the reward money, and Colin will see Penelope sneaking out of the house or something to deliver her next issue to the printer that disavows Cressida. Colin will misinterpret and think Penelope is seeing a secret lover, then boom boom, LW reveal.

It's just all so anxiety-inducing, in the best way possible. Lol This is how to keep the audience's attention, I guess~

#bridgerton #polin #part 2 speculations #we'll see what we see come June!

[hannahssimblr]

In the hallway after school on Tuesday, as I head to my locker to retrieve my gear bag, I spot Miss O’Reilly. She is locking up the art room, and gives me a big smile as I approach her. She’s always doing that, smiling at me, I mean, and it throws me off. It's usually not the expression teachers have when they see me coming.

I smile awkwardly in return and she turns her body towards me, takes a step, prompting me to halt beside her instead of barrelling past her like I would have, not enthused about facing the wrath of Doherty if I hit the rugby pitch even one minute late. 

“Jude! I've been meaning to congratulate you.”

“Um, for what?”

She laughs as though I’m being dense deliberately, “I spoke to Eileen, the guidance counsellor last Friday and she told me about your offers.”

“Oh, for college.”

“Yes! How wonderful. I’m just so pleased for you that everything worked out the way that you hoped it would, after all of the hard work you put in this last year it’s just fantastic to hear it. And tell me, did you get accepted to every college you applied for?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow,” she takes a big pause, taking it in, “wow. You must be delighted. How does it feel?”

“I dunno, miss.”

“Hard to get your head around, I’m sure. Your parents must be proud too.”

“Mm.”

She’s determined to ignore our mismatched attitudes towards this news, taking a big, jubilant breath before launching into more affirmations, “well, what a confirmation of your talent and skill. I had a really good feeling about your work when you came to my class last year, and I’m just so pleased that you got the results you wanted. Have you decided which college to choose yet?”

I shift my weight from one foot to the other, “yeah I’m choosing NCAD.”

“Oh!” I can tell she’s trying to maintain her upbeat attitude, but eyebrows slowly draw together in confusion, “I hadn’t realised you changed your plan. When we last spoke about it in March you told me you were looking forward to attending universities abroad.”

I shrug, “Yeah, I, um, I changed my mind in the end. I’m going to stay in Dublin.”

“Hm, okay, I just… Jude, do you mind if I ask you why?”

“Yeah, you can ask,” I say, and am instantly horrified by the tremor in my voice. I fight it back with a hard swallow, “It’s just, like… um,” Oh God. What is happening to me? I’m conscious of the crowds of students milling through the hallway right behind me, and of the fact that I categorically cannot do this here. “Sorry…”

“Oh, come in,” she says in a low voice, jangling the keys in the art room door with an urgency that feels entirely necessary, and when she lets me into the room ahead of her I stand dumbly in the middle of it as she fumbles with the blind over the glass doors, tingling jolts of anxiety running down my arms and through the tips of my fingers. 

“What is it, sweetheart?” She says, and simply that, the word she uses and the way she uses it makes me want to crumple onto the linoleum floor in front of her. 

“You’re alright, you’re just…” she purses her lips, searching for the word, “overwhelmed, I’d say. College and all of that kind of thing, it can get on top of you at this time of year. I know it’s a lot to think about.”

I manage a grunt of vague agreement. 

Miss O’Reilly drags a folding chair from the side of the room, “C’mere, sit down there and we’ll have a quick chat about it.”

“Um, Mr. Doherty…” I say, and she understands, “Don’t mind him. I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

She settles into a seat across from me, and gives me an encouraging smile. As I search for the words I want to say I’m cognizant of how comforting this woman is, how unfazed she is by me and whatever it is that is happening to me in this room. She has a daughter, I know that, a daughter who goes to our school and for a moment I’m jealous of her, that fourteen year old girl who gets to have a mother like this one, that is soft and comforting in all the places where mine is sharp and disinterested in me and every feeling I have ever experienced. 

I’m not convinced that I even know how to talk about things like this, afraid that I will try to and come across like the weirdest, most unhinged person on the planet. My thoughts and feelings will be so nonsensical that they will make everyone around me cringe with discomfort. “I’m trying to do the right things,” I attempt, “but somehow the right things feel very wrong to me.”

“When you say ‘the right things’, Jude, do you mean you want to choose the right college?”

I nod. 

“And why does NCAD seem like the right choice?”

“Because of my girlfriend.”

“Michelle?”

“Yeah. I didn’t know you knew that to be honest.” I never thought that teachers noticed or cared about things that weren’t arbitrary uniform rules and homework assignments, but evidently I was wrong.

She smiles kindly, “So Michelle is going to NCAD?”

“Yeah if she gets the points in her leaving. She applied for all the same colleges as me but got none and now I feel sort of... like I have to stay for her.”

“Is that the right decision for you?”

“I dunno, miss.”

She hums contemplatively, “I’m sure you’re tired of hearing this kind of thing, but it’s not always the best choice to base big life choices on your girlfriend when you’re only eighteen years old. Especially one as important as your university.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s never an easy choice to make. I really empathise with you here, because when you’re in love with a person, you-”

“I don’t even know if I love her.”

There’s a pause, she looks surprised, and so am I. I'm stunned that I told her that, this thought that I've never dared to utter before.

And then everything comes spilling out of me. “Look, it’s just that I feel very trapped,” I say, “Sometimes I think there’s something abnormal about my brain, because I make decisions that even I don’t understand, like with Michelle... when I think about us being together and our relationship I can hardly remember anything good that’s happened between us for a long time, the last fun thing we did or the last time I felt happy. I can’t even remember what I was thinking when we got together. I feel like I’m on autopilot, or like things are just happening to me without me having a hand in it.

“Somehow I’ve just, like, ended up here and I’m making plans with her and promising her things that I haven’t even decided if I want yet. I thought that I wanted to move away, but maybe I don’t anymore. Maybe it’s wrong of me to do that, because what if I go away and then I realise that what I actually wanted was to be with Michelle?” 

I breathe in, knowing that I have probably been talking too much, but now I am unwilling to stop, “My parents, they’re fighting a lot at home. Something happened a few months ago and it's just been a battlefield ever since. I know that if I go away I’ll leave my sister alone to deal with all of it. She’s only nine, and the constant tension upsets her so much, she goes into a spin about it and starts fantasising about all of these awful scenarios, and see, my parents don’t know how to deal with her, they don’t really like it when kids act like kids. Or at least they’re not that interested in them– in her. I keep imagining this future where I’m gone, I’ve left home and I’m hundreds of miles away and she’s all on her own with them, and there’s nobody to really look after her because I can’t get home so easily, and when I think like that, even the thought of going away, even wanting it a little bit makes me feel like the most selfish boy on earth…”

Miss O’Reilly produces a tissue and holds it out to me. I stare at it for several seconds before I realise she is offering it because I have started to cry. My face is somehow wet with tears. “Oh,” I say, hoarsely and take it. 

“Jude, you’re still a teenager.” She says gently, “You can’t possibly be responsible for the emotions of every other person around you. It’s too much.”

“Yeah.”

“When you’re young you have to make selfish decisions, ones meant for yourself and yourself only. Nobody else is going to make them for you. You have to really ask yourself what the right choice is for you, whether you’ll be able to be truly happy in your current circumstance where nothing may change or will you be better off on your own, doing something you love and experiencing real freedom in spite of how others may feel about it.” 

I wipe my eyes and nod, staring down at my lap, still in a state of shame and disbelief that I have allowed myself to sob like this in front of my teacher, though if she is bothered she doesn’t show it. 

“When you imagine your ideal life,” she urges, “where none of these things are a factor, not the things you promised to Michelle, not what's going on at home, what does it look like?”

“God,” I breathe, almost chuckling because the answer is so easy, “I’m gone. I’m not here. I’m just miles away and I’m making art and hanging out and doing what I like.” It sounds so simple when I say it out loud, yet for the longest time now I’ve felt like a criminal for wanting these things. 

“And where do you see yourself?”

“Berlin,” I say, surprising myself. It’s not like I’ve put real time into thinking about this, visualised myself walking those streets, in fact I don’t even know what Berlin looks like, but it feels right to say it, as though there is some cosmic reason for me to go there. Perhaps only because it’s the furthest from home. 

Miss O’Reilly nods, “NCAD is a fine college, Jude, but your talent is wasted in a place where you don’t want to be. You could do anything you want. You have incredible potential and I’d be very sad to see it wasted. Life passes you by very quickly, you know, and these kinds of opportunities don’t present themselves as often as you think. It may seem obvious, but you only have one life to live.”

“Yeah.”

“I can’t tell you what to do. I can’t make a decision for you, but all I want you to do is really think about this. Put a good amount of thought into what you really want when you remove everyone else from the equation, then, once you know, you can decide what's worth sacrificing. Do you think you can do that?”

“Yes, miss.”

“Good, then that's your homework,” She smiles and reaches to squeeze my hand, which I am embarrassed about because my skin is clammy, but just like everything else about this moment that is humiliating to me, it doesn't appear to faze her.

“Thank you,” I say, and she nods. “I hope you’re not in a hurry to get to your rugby practice.”

“No,” I sniff, and let out a thick laugh, “No miss, I think I’ll skip it today.”

“Good,” she says, “That’s a good start, see? Here you are, doing exactly as you wish.”

She smiles at me, once again, that bright, warm smile, and I give her one in return because maybe it's just me, my weird brain and the things it invents, but the feeling of hope that rises in me in that moment feels very real.

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy 2010 #that's the last of April!! #i'm so exicted to move on from this #and say goodbye to this cursed school

[reds-writings]

souls further entwined

(pairing: rust cohle x fem!reader)

a/n: finally an update for these two! sorry to keep you waiting! I've got a lot of life changes in the works so updates might come a little slower over the next few months depending but i hope this tides y'all over for a bit! this takes place sometime after if only tonight we could sleep

word count: roughly 2.5k

warnings: (PLEASE LOOK BEFORE CONTINUING) discussions of abortion, child loss, forced/unsafe medical procedures, bad family situations, angst angst, cursing, semi-not-so-smut at the end, minors avert your gaze or else!!

The hidden gem of a restaurant that Rust had brought you to somewhere in the French Quarter was rather nice with its live jazz band playing in the corner and lavish decor. The tinkering of silverware layered on top of the low rumblings of fellow diners did what it could to fill the void of silence that had long settled between you and the man sitting adjacent. He had spontaneously asked you– well more like told you to go out with him tonight. Something about wanting to do things right once and for all after all this tiptoeing around.  The whole notion had taken you off guard, admittedly.

You’d been buzzing so bright leading up to tonight that you could've probably put a lightning bug to shame. He’d asked you on a real date. A step forward from the semi-clandestine meetings you’d both been settling on for far too long now. It was unlike him to outwardly admit to much but you doubted it was a wide occurrence that he’d take a girl on a date just because he was bored. This had meaning.

With that thought swirling in mind, you’d found your best dress and took what constituted as way too long of a pampering shower to best prepare for a promising night out with the man you'd become so deeply enamored with. It wasn’t often you got to get all prettied up for some fun given that work always managed to swallow you whole. 

God you’d been so excited. 

From the time you’d gotten into Rust’s Ford up until you’d sat down to eat he had yet to utter a single word to you. Hell, he’d hardly even managed to look at you either and it was starting to cause a distasteful rock that went by the name of dread to sink lower and lower in your gut. 

Dexterous fingers stayed picking at the table cloth as a form of lengthy distraction and you fought the bubbling urge to snatch his hand and demand what gives. It wasn’t hard to miss the anxiety bleeding from his form with those tense shoulders and that telltale faraway look in his eyes. You didn’t want to continue the cycle of jumping to conclusions when it came to the routine lack of forthcoming involving his more vulnerable thoughts out of insecurity so you bit the bullet,

“Y’know…usually on a date there’s a bit more talkin;. Maybe startin’ with questions like ‘what’s your favorite color’-- it’s blue by the way, or ‘where’d you get that lovely dress’. Could also do with lookin’ a little less green in the gills.”

That got him to stop fidgeting but a response was not yet prompted. You sighed and looked down at the vibrant cloth napkin in your lap,

“If you’re startin’ to regret this we can just forget about it and head back-”

“I don’t know if I can be what you need.” He all but blurted and it had your head shooting back up in suprise.

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t…I don’t find myself being suited for marriage like before. I can’t give you kids because I don’t think it’s right-”

“Wait a minute just-...slow your roll for a second.” Your mind was going a mile a minute at his frank outburst and you were having trouble pinpointing just where it all came from. 

“First of all, I don’t necessarily need the promise of marriage to feel fulfilled. I’m about to hit 30 soon enough and I’ve supplied plenty for myself that I'm not sure some flimsy marriage papers can add on to. I’m not just sayin’ all this to make you feel better either so don’t go down that route.” You were tenderly stern in your delivery to make sure what you were saying was actually sticking without sounding offended.

All he could give was a slight nod as the tip of his thumb came to his mouth: a nervous tic.

“Secondly…” You cleared your throat slightly and gave yourself a moment of pause. The latter concern wasn’t that of an easy subject. For either of you. Besides your family and probably Marty, not many knew of your reality when it came to the idea of starting a family. 

“I can’t have children. So that wouldn’t even be on the table to begin with I suppose.” 

That seemed to stun Rust. His expression working out how, what, and when this came to be. You cleared your throat again. Talking about it was never easy no matter how much time passed.

“The gist of it is…well I got knocked up when I was sixteen. Total accident, shocker. And um…my pa didn't approve. Not one bit, bein’ the respectable county figure he was as a seasoned lawyer n' all.” 

Your sinuses began to sting but you willed away any threat of tears as you tried to explain. Rust didn't say a word, his expression hardening minutely with a knowing sense of where this was headed.

“I didn’t wanna listen. I was scared of course but the boy I was foolin’ around with at the time was nice and had a family who wanted to be involved so that was enough for me. My uppity family could shove it for all I cared,” You scoffed wryly but continued, “But pa was adamant. He couldn’t have some little whore of daughter muckin’ things up but we were a church family so abortion was obviously out of the question. At least one would think that was the case,” 

“Long story short he dragged me to some back alley clinic where things would be kept under wraps. They fuckin’ botched it of course and made me sterile. Didn’t really know how bad it was until another loss and a visit with the doctor after trying with a serious boyfriend some time ago…” You shrugged as you fiddled with your unused silverware. You hadn’t spoken with your family since then. Letting you be mutilated for the sake of preserving a frivolous public image was a hard thing to let go of.

You remember how sick you were afterward. Infection from the procedure and a decent amount of blood loss, go figure. You only recall the house's maids nursing you back.

Your pa had never been able to look you in the eye again. Your mama just pretended nothing had ever happened the way it did.

Sometimes your mind had the habit of taking a dark turn every now and then, wondering if they would’ve felt any remorse if their forced course of action ended up actually killing you. With a selfishness like they had you couldn't help but doubt it. 

They had always taken more pride in your sister anyway. 

“So yeah…you don’t have to worry about the possibility of kids when it comes to me. It’s not like with our line of work it’d be much of a good idea anyway. Marty’s a prime example I'd reckon.” Your laugh was brittle in a weak attempt to lift the heavy weight you felt like you’d set over the mood. 

Rust’s large hand reached over to encase your shaking one to garner your attention. Looking up you weren’t met with pity or disgust, but with recognition. One shared in the experience of grief. Of having something meant to be so precious ripped from you in the cruelest of ways. He didn’t feel sorry for you. He understood you. More than anyone else had or could. 

“You’re enough for me, Rust. I don’t know if you’ve noticed by now but there’s not much you can do to send me runnin’ for the hills. I like you as you are and I don’t need more. I wouldn’t expect you to change your mind over somethin’ like that anyway. It just wouldn’t be fair to ask.” His eyes glazed over at your words and he had to let go of the troubled breath he’d been holding. He brought your hand to his lips and kept them there as an unspoken thank you. 

After a moment or two he set your hand back on the tabletop, still grasped in his. 

“How about we find some shitty dive and let loose over there. This place is startin’ to feel a lil’ too stuffy for me.” Your light-hearted jab made the corner of his lips quirk up before he nodded,

“Yes, ma'am.” 

—

After a relaxing drive accompanied by the tunes of Willie Nelson in search of a dive bar that was sufficient enough, the ice from all the worries of earlier had melted as fast as they had formed. The establishment you ended up coming across was a more than welcome change of pace compared to that of the restaurant (as lovely as it was). It wasn’t big by any means but there was room to dance and plenty of open spots to sit around and drink. 

You looped your arm through his and leaned into his side as you made your way to settle down. There wasn’t enough time or clarity earlier to truly appreciate just how good he looked for the occasion but now you had all the time in the world to shamelessly ogle.

He’d donned a black dress shirt, forgoing a tie and leaving a few buttons undone in a way that had you feeling dizzy, as well as a nice fitting pair of jeans that had plenty of passersby’s eyes glued to his shapely form.

“The ladies of Louisiana might just beat me up for a chance with you. If your face ain’t motivation enough your ass surely will be.” You nudged him and he shook his head mirthfully. 

“One would say jealousy is unbecoming.”

“Who said anythin’ about jealousy? I’ve earned my stake in claimin’ you as eye candy fair and square. They can try all they want but they were just too slow to the draw.”

“With your pension for being scrappy, I’d say they wouldn’t have much of a chance to begin with.” 

“Gee, is that the only reason they don’t stand a chance?” You quirked a brow. You knew the answer but pestering him to fess up hardly ever got you far. 

“What d’ya wanna drink, Miss Envy.” He drawled, not one to fall into your traps so easily and you flicked him with narrowed eyes.

“Last time I checked my name don’t even come close to rhymin’ with envy so you can quit with that.” 

The shithead just smirked.

“I’ll take a jack and coke. Now run along.” You waved him away and he just shook his head. In his short absence you’d found a high top and decided to claim as your territory for the night. The music was clearer over this way and your heart jumped at the beginning notes of Fleetwood Mac’s Beautiful Child.

Upon his return, Rust had hardly been able to set the drinks down before you were grabbing at him to park yourselves out on the dancefloor. A few other couples were swaying in place so you figured it wouldn’t be all that awkward to steal a moment for yourselves.

It was strange, being able to be so open in your affections without the curious eyes of Marty or anyone else from the precinct to make judgments. You could just be yourselves. It was a breath of fresh air after all this time.

As the song gained momentum, you wrapped your arms around his neck, toying with the hairs at his nape while his strong ones made home around your waist to pull you in closer. A small spark of pride lit up your chest at him being able to be this comfortable with you.

As you rested your head along the expanse of his chest you felt the feather-light stamp of his kiss at your crown. The tenderness of the simple act almost had you turning into one hell of a mush puddle. You settled on burrowing deeper if that were any more possible as Stevie sang on. Fighting the effect he had on you was always going to be a losing battle. 

You wouldn’t trade this moment for a damned thing. 

—

It was nearing almost three in the morning by the time you arrived back home. Your mind had been pleasantly warmed by the drinks and all the dancing. Rust even seemed to have a newfound glow to him and it was triggering something innately carnal in you. 

Taking an opportunity from the pocket of silence, you scooted along the Ford’s bench seat to make a place for yourself along his lap. 

The relaxed daze displayed across his features was something you’d never had the pleasure of seeing before. It was nothing like the faraway trance he’d trap himself in with all the pills and whatnot in fruitless efforts of chasing undisturbed sleep. No, this was true content. 

“I had a good time.” You didn’t mean to sound so coy but it couldn’t be helped as your hands crept up to frame his fine face.

“That’s good. I’m glad.” He hummed as he took in every feature your beautiful face had to offer. It was like striking gold. Especially in this expansive wasteland of a state.

“When we get a chance we should do it again. S’nice to go out…feel normal…” Hair lying in his line of light distracted you as you moved it out of the way with a gentle sweep. The truck’s cab could probably burst with the steadily increasing tension so you did what any normal woman would do with such a man in front of them and kissed him with all you had. 

It started out syrupy and languid as if you had all the time in the world to be out macking in the car like a pair of careless teenagers. Your skin hummed like a live wire at his sudden grasp on the plush fat of your hips which served as the green light to go further. 

Your delicate fingers carded through his soft waves as the muscle of his tongue took dominance over the kiss. A meek whimper cracked within your throat as you tried to keep up with what little oxygen you had remaining. When Rust kissed, it was all-consuming. It was no act he took passively when it came to you which had been made crystal clear to you by now. With each pass of his wet-hot caress, you could feel everything he wanted to say to you without complication of expression through words. 

His mouth traveled across the apple of your cheek down the expanse of your neck, nipping and sucking with such lax reverence it had you arching as if you could fuse your ribs with his. Souls to be permanently intertwined.

With a starting grind of your hips that your body had no willpower to control you could feel him hardening with each intensifying roll. His choked moan had you remembering where you were and you’d be damned if your first actual night with him was in this old, damned truck right outside your house. 

“D’ya wanna take this inside?” You offered in a breathless huff, trying to catch your breath in vain. You’re sure that even in the dark of the truck’s cabin the heat of your face could set the whole space aglow. He nipped at your bottom lip and soothed it with another peck,

“I would.”

The sudden tangle of limbs clambering to make haste towards the beacon of your front door would’ve been downright hysterical had you any hubris. 

a/n: sorry to blue ball you lmao. I HOPE THIS WASN'T CRINGE AHHHHH. i'll probably come back and edit this later. feedback is always appreciated!

#reds-writings #rust cohle #true detective #true detective season 1 #rust cohle x reader #writer blog #rust cohle imagine #true detective imagine #matthew mcconaughey #jj universe

[your-mums-nuts]

okok idk if you've heard the spoiler happening where colin is upset with pen and ends up at a brothel?? i've seen it twice now and uh. im really hoping it isn't true. it made sense in the first part when he was still figuring things out, but after? i really don't think they will cause that's not in colin's favor at all, but why would someone say it if it wasn't true??

do you have any other information on it and do you think it's true?? (really hoping you can quell my irrational anxiety about this lol)

thank you!!

Girl dm me about this please cause I wanna hear what you’ve heard.

But in all seriousness- I am incredibly anxious about this too! I got my information about it from a Nicola and Luke interview where they imply something happens in part two that Nicola hated, and then Nicola goes “it’s not like he’s cheating on her..”

And then Luke said something like, “but he’s had to watch her all season..”

My hope is that it’s maybe at a ball and he dances with someone else in front of her after the Whistledown reveal. I would still dislike it because we’ve seen pen look longingly at Colin dancing with others for two seasons already, but it’d be far better if it meant nothing and was pointed, then it being an actual consideration.

If they did decide to do something with the brothel, even him just considering visiting a brothel, I am going to be so incredibly pissed off. I don’t care how upset or betrayed he is- cheating or even just considering cheating is so so disgusting and so unlike Colin.

Also I’m sorry but Whistledown is not that bad. I understand where the anger and feelings of betrayal would come from, but she has reasons. She was young and silly and went about it the wrong way but she at least has reasons for what she’s done.

If Colin were to do anything, however small, even if it was just implied possible cheating, there’s no reasoning there. There’s no ‘I did it for the grand scheme of things’ or ‘I was young and naive’ or even, ‘I felt powerless and overlooked.’

But in happier news (because a lot of this is just me spiralling) I think they’re clever enough not to do that. Bridgerton is kind of the ‘man on his hands and knees for woman he loves’ show, and it’s been extremely praised for embracing the female gaze in romance and sex alike.

.. and If they do go through with any of this, trust that the polin fanfic legends WILL be writing some great canon divergence, so there’s always that.

#polin #bridgerton #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton

[catboybiologist]

BTW! Since I've been asked about it a couple times, I'm totally okay with anyone tagging me or sending me anything for any reason! If I don't interact with something it just means I didn't have the time of the spoons to interact with it, it's just a hair too nsfw and I wanna have at least a tiny bit of plausible deniability for tumblr admins, or I just don't know you well enough, or whatever other reason- usually an incredibly benign one.

Tbh, if there is anything I do find uncomfortable, it's people overthinking my online behavior. I know it has the best intentions, but if I don't interact with something, don't message you, or have some other quirk that makes you think I hate you or that I'm uncomfortable, the reality is that I probably just didn't have the mental energy to phrase something properly or respond to something. It gives me a bit of anxiety when I feel like I have to overthink how I'm interacting with people- especially since there's a lot of them.

Basically, what I'm saying is- more tgirl tummy. It's all good. Tag me in all of it. It's good and pure and holy

#tgirl tummy tuesday

[polyamorousmood]

Hey there :)

So I have no problem with my bf dating other people, and recently hes started having sth with someone else. Good for them! Legit, no problem with that by itself

But.. now I'm being left on read a lot, like majority of the time it feels like, no matter the topic or time. I just feel.. forgotten, I think, or replaced idk. But it feels pretty bad.

I dont want them to think I'm jealous or mad, I just wish he would still show me the same attention/care as before. Ive talked about how left on read makes me very insecure, due to fake friends and person past experiences before so I dont want to bring it up again.. but it hurts. Idk what to do?

Bad news, babe. You're gonna have to say something again. The good news though is that you can productively procrastinate it, because there's some stuff I want you to do first.

But before I get into that, I let having a cool opening distract me from very important other things that need said: That sucks, and I'm really sorry, but you can make it through this.

Now then. Time to productively procrastinate a difficult conversation. Look, I'm procrastinating it more by making it a read more! (It, um, it is A Lot. I took "blogging platform" literally on this one😅)

It sucks. Believe me, it bothers me too when I can't hear from my partner📵📴 because they're with my meta. It has been A Problem I've had to work through, so I think I'm actually pretty qualified to give advice on this.

Some of what I have to say is going to smart (old-timey word for sting) a bit, so I want to make it clear that I understand where you're coming from, so you can trust the part that stings is necessary. I imagine its something like this:

You relationship with your boyfriend is great! So great, you're happy for him to have someone else to love! That's. That's so rare and incredible, its a love beyond what most will know. And then he takes that love and wads it up and throws it in the back seat to make room for this new schmuck. The love is still there, it's just... in the back seat. And you never thought that would happen, because the relationship is so good! And you already said something, so you worry you're being a nag, which you don't want, because you ARE happy for them, you're so happy for them... except when you're not because you can't be happy when he can't be bothered to text you back. Its not really so much to ask, and you EXPLAINED why its important to you, so why doesn't he seem to care? You communicated, you did your part, and it was hard and scary! Surely harder than texting you back would be! And you don't want to feel like this, but. There's this anxiety that... shouldn't he want to text you back? Isn't that how he would act if he really did still care about you just as much?

Any of that resonate? I don't know you, so maybe some of it was way off base🎯, I don't know. But I hope enough of it was close enough to right that you know I get it when I say:

This isn't just your boyfriend fucking it up. This is, in part, probably you asking something unreasonable. To give you the exact same level of time an energy as when it was just you too is a big ask. To be able to supercede his time with the other person any time you want is a big ask. If you're only okay with your boyfriend having someone else if it doesn't cut into your time at all, how okay with it are you actually?

So before you talk to him about it, you gotta step back. Its not that you're wrong for feeling sidelined. But a poly relationship just isn't going to be the exact same as a monogamous one. It it were, I wouldn't have bothered making a blog, and I wouldn't have needed to because I wouldn't have a trail of loving, wonderful, burnt to ashes monogamous relationships behind me. Let's take a deep breath together. Pause here if you need.

Now, there are some questions here that do affect what I think would be fair. For example, if you're living with your boyfriend, and he's taking you for granted, always texting the other person when he's with you, you don't have any special time with him anymore, and then when he goes out its radio silence. That's a very different situation from you being in a long distance relationship so texting is your main form of communication/bonding and now he's got a new person that lives near him so he's with them constantly and now, what are you, chopped liver? for example. I'm going to give a list of things you might be doing that's unfair, and I want you to take a minute and evaluate as honestly as you can where you fall on that. This is a self-reflection, not an accusation, so please resist any temptations to get defensive (if you even feel them). I recommend taking out a pad of paper and committing to an answer for each. Some you may not be doing at all! Some okay maybe a little. And some now that you think about it, yeah actually, you're doing a lot. That's okay. You not handling it perfectly is okay, and doesn't mean we can't ask the boyfriend for accommodations still.

Are you valuing 1:1 time with your boyfriend as much as you're valuing (negatively) the time he spends 1:1 (not texting you) with his partner? IE, are you more bothered by him not texting you than you are appreciative when he takes time for you?

Are you texting him compulsively out of anxiety instead of because you have something more important to discuss?

Are you accidentally infringing on his other partner's time?

Are you trying to infringe on his other partner's time to reassure yourself that you're important to him?

Are you texting him to "test" him?

When you communicated that you didn't like being left on read, did you properly convey how big of a problem it is for you and what your expectations were?

When you communicated, did you allow space for negotiation and to work on the problem, or was it more like a list of demands?

Are you misplacing your feelings somehow? Is there something else that's bothering you that you don't feel comfortable bringing up?

Are you letting your anxieties run you? Is there something you could be doing to address your feelings?

Are you forgetting to weigh other allocations or shows of love he's making or you?

Is there anything else internally you might be overlooking in regards to this?

Whew! Heavy stuff. But you made it!🎉 Now, we'll dig into how his actions are making you feel. That last set was about what you could be doing better, and this one will help determine he could be doing better. But just like we weren't making accusations about you, we aren't making accusations about him either. We are assuming good faith on your boyfriend's part. This is still ultimately about your feelings and what reasonable accommodations could be made for them.

Do you feel the time allocation for you vs his other partner is fair? Why?

Does he seem to text them back more than you?

Does it seem like he's not taking your concerns seriously enough?

Does this issue look like a larger pattern? If so, what? How will that look long-term?

Has he made specific promises he hasn't kept to you in regards to this? If so, what were they and how hasn't he lived up to them?

Do you feel he's made adequate time for you to discuss concerns, or do you feel like he tries to rush through them?

Do you think he gave you a reasonably clear expectation of what him dating someone else would look like (or did he make it seem "nothing will change")?

Has he not responded to something critical?

Is there anything else he's done in regards to this that doesn't sit right with you?

You did it! 🎉Now we can officially start working on problem-solving. I imagine that was a lot more than you bargained for, for such a simple problem as "I want a text back," but its important to get everything laid out. This helps in a lot of ways. It helps guard against striking on a "solution" that isn't actually sustainable. It makes sure you're starting a discussion in good faith. And hopefully, it will help minimize having to return to the issue.

For the sake of formatting, we're going to address the questions for you first, then the questions about him, then how to have the hard conversation, then workarounds that you may not have considered that aren't really your or his problem. I actually think that third group has some of the better "quick fixes", if you can find one that works.

Starting with the questions about what you could be doing better, in order, skip any that don't apply:

Re: valuing 1:1 time -- Make active efforts to appreciate the time you do have more. Use this time as a guard against negative thoughts when he is unable to respond ("We spent all day together yesterday, a few hours today without hearing from him is fine")

Re: texting compulsively -- Be more vigilant about self-soothing. I find self-talk to be most effective for me. I cannot possibly cover everything here, but it sounds like it stirs up fears you're losing your partner. Since you cannot guarantee that will never happen, I find it most helpful to reassure myself I will be okay even if I do lose them. Another option is to make a reassurance bank, where you can store and see evidence of his affection without asking it from him. Your mileage may vary. If you really struggle with this, there's always therapy.

Re: accidental infringing -- Be more mindful of what you send. Save things that are non-urgent to discuss later, when you have his attention anyway.

Re: deliberate infringing -- Stop it. It will only strain things and make the outcomes you don't want more likely. See self-soothing. Find something else to distract you that you can put energy into.

Re: "testing" him -- See above. I know, its easier said than done. Do the hard work. That shit can ruin your life.

Re: didn't adequately express importance -- Well, its a good thing we're about to talk about it anyway! Really think through how you can explain how badly it makes you feel. We'll get into that more when we discuss How To Have the Conversation

Re: list of demands -- Well, its a good thing we're going to talk about it anyway! This time, see it as a negotiation. Ask him if that's feasible, or if its too much. But open to trying alternate solutions.

Re: misplaced feelings -- Take the advice on How To Have a Conversation and apply it to the thing that's actually the problem.

Re: managing anxieties -- Again, you'll have to find a way to self-soothe somewhat. That's not to say your partner shouldn't meet you halfway, but you do have to do your half.

Re: forgetting other expressions of love -- Literally make a list of all the things he's done/is doing for you. As many as you can think of. Add to it often. Pick a couple and do a deep dive on why that mattered so much to you and how you felt. Tell him, too. You gotta be grateful consciously, bro. This applies to all of life

Re: anything else -- Take that into account. Work on that, too, however you can. Be honest with him about your shortcomings when you address it.

A lot of these will require upkeep on your part (kind of mirrors🪞how texting you back consistently requires upkeep on his, huh?). Be prepared to discuss the changing you're going to make and have an actionable plan for them. Okay, his turn, same as before:

Re: fair time allocation -- does he need to make more time for you? Do he need to make protected time that is only for you? You said you feel forgotten, replaced, so maybe this is part of it.

Re: unequal texting -- first, consider why. If he lives with you, he's probably going to have to text the other person in front of you sometimes. If you still think its too much, again, protected time for you may be appropriate, he may need to do a better job keeping his New Relationship Energy (NRE) in check. Be prepared to discuss this, possibly including him defending himself!

Re: not taking concerns seriously -- Well, its a good thing we're discussing this again! Make sure you have an actionable, measurable metric he can do to show you progress here. (IE ❌"I need you to care more" ❌ but ✅"When you're unable to respond, I need you to say that you're busy so I know you thought of my needs" ✅)

Re: bigger patterns -- You will have to tell him you're concerned about those too. If it could become untenable for you, this will probably be a recurring discussion. Consider scheduling check-ins where you say one thing you think is going well and one thing you're worried about, for example.

Re: unkept promises -- here, you are super justified in being mad. Try not to be anyway. Try to be curious and interested in addressing the root problem. Ask him what got in his way, what middle ground he's confident he can manage. It is you and him vs the problem, even here, not you vs him.

Re: inadequate room to discuss -- Set expectations before the talk, and remind him of them if he forgets. (IE "I know this isn't nice to hear, but I need you to let me say my piece and talk through solutions, even if it takes awhile." and "I said I needed to talk through the solution. This sounds nice, but I'm concerned about X. How can we make sure that doesn't happen?") Consider reserving specific time to discuss it, consider reserving recurring time to discuss any problem, if you need it.

Re: didn't set expectations appropriately -- ask. Ask what this would ideally look like to him. If he's having trouble getting started, point out some differences you've already noticed, and ask if he thinks those are the new norm.

Re: didn't respond to something critical -- Establish a way he can see what is critical and what isn't. This might be texting something that can wait, but calling for something important, for example.

Re: anything else -- address that too. Give him a chance to explain himself. etc.

Okay, you've done everything up to this point alone. You're prepped. Now How Do You Have The Conversation?

For this type of stuff, I recommend the WIBS format. That is, "When [something happens], I feel [feelings] Because [explanation] So could you please [change]". But of course, it can't be that simple either. Critically you CANNOT say "you" before the "so could you please". The example I'm about to give is going to use the texting issue specifically, but if you've done the soul searching and found there's a bigger problem you want to address (which ngl, sounds like there might be something bigger based on what you sent), adjust accordingly! This is good general advice for any tough conversation. Anyway, here's what that might look like on the texting thing:

"When I am left on read, I feel anxious and betrayed, because I've had a lot of friendships completely fall apart, and that's always how it started. So could you please make a point to text me something when you read my message, even if its just 'lol' or you saying you want to discuss it later."

But wait a minute! That doesn't include any of the bullshit I just made you do. What the hell am I trying to pull? Okay okay, so we have to modify this a bit. Our new format is going to be something more like this: "When [something happens], I feel [feelings and impact], because [explanation]. I have tried [things you've tried], and I am still struggling because [reason why that hasn't helped, including what you could do better]. So I was hoping to look at some more solutions, like, would you be willing to try [change]." Which might in practice look something like

"When I am left on read, I feel so anxious and betrayed I start spiraling thinking the relationship is doomed, because I've had a lot of friendships completely fall apart, and that's always how it started. I have tried dropping some hints and self soothing, and I'm still struggling because this is a really bad anxiety that I didn't have to deal with before recently and even with the hints I'm not getting the response rate I would like. So I wanted to talk about it and see if you'd be willing to try making a point to text me something when you read my message, even if its just 'lol' or you saying you want to discuss it later."

And then! The discussion continues. Maybe he says "oh my god, yeah, I didn't realize it was bothering you that much, absolutely I can do that" and maybe he says "I'm with you all the time how is this still a problem?" or maybe its "actually, [other partner] gets really anxious when I text, which is why I don't respond unless its important. I figured I could talk to you about dinner plans any time" and whatever the case is, you keep talking until you've set on clear goalposts and have reassurance they feel okay to all parties. So in order, your responses might be something like "are you sure you can manage that? I was really worried by my hints not being picked up on that that was the reason", "I know its a problem. That's why I'm talking to you about it. If that's not a good solution to you, let's come up with something else, because the way things are is really hard on me," and "okay. I don't want to make [other partner] anxious either, but this isn't working for me, can we find something else to try?"

Allow him to explain, be prepared to explain more yourself, and be willing to try a variety of solutions. Acknowledge

Is this my longest post yet? Maybe! Wild. Let's top it off with something easier: The Hack Solutions🧑‍💻. Sometimes, anxiety isn't logical, and goofy workarounds can be super helpful! Here are some off the top of my head, but feel free to get creative, too! Not all of these may be feasible, not all of them may help. But a lot less work than some other solutions so worth mentioning!

You said being "left on read" is what bothers you. Can you just... turn off read receipts? Or switch to a messaging app that doesn't have them? Can he just not read your texts until he has the time to respond?

A lot of phones have a driving mode, that will send an automated reply to texts. Can he turn that on when he's with his other partner so you get a reply like "hey I'm busy rn, but I'll text back later!" and would that help?

If you just want to feel more involved, maybe it would help if he just like, took a picture of his pizza to send to you. Reminds you you're thought of, doesn't require conversation.

Something that I've done with friends is write like, a dozen short affirmations/reassurances, and have them keep them in a special spot. When they need to feel loved, they can take one out to read. This has worked PHENOMENALLY for them, and still protects your partner's time away while allowing you to get love direct from your partner WHENEVER you want.

Can he just kick it with you both concurrently?

Can you have a friendship with your meta where you text THEM like "tell [bf] to text me back real quick" and then your bf doesn't feel bad about texting in front of the other partner because they're telling him to do it?

Classically condition yourself. Like, every time he leaves you on read, eat a chocolate. And then sometimes instead of it being "boyfriend won't text me :(((" it'll be "oooo! candy time!"

ai yai yai! That's all I have, though! Come back if you need help working through some specifics. I'm very happy to help however I can. Its not your fault you're struggling with this. Most polyam relationships have to deal with this to some extent, but with a little effort, you can make it through. Best of luck to you, friend. 💙💖🖤

#poly relationship advice #ask box is always open #long post #polyamory #jealousy

[irbcallmefynn]

Okay this is a very hard post for me to make but i feel like i have to make it. I can't be quiet about this any more. I can't keep saying it where nobody will see it because i need people to see it. If the friends of anyone mentioned in this post want to send it their way, feel free. This is not a call-out post. This is an apology, and an ask for explanation.

I want to preface what I'm about to say with: I'm not mad at anyone mentioned in this post. I don't think anybody in The Creachures is. We all miss you and wish things could've worked out. I'm sorry if what I say comes off as hostile or aggressive, I'm not great at wording this sort of thing, and it's coming from a place of much emotion.

@hexedbug @juneibyou @xxthunderthedragon @bobisnotaperson @razzytism

You five have caused me a lot of stress and anxiety in not telling me what i did to hurt you. You haven't given me the opportunity to improve upon myself or correct these transgressions, or even apologize to you. I'm sure you're all at least somewhat aware of how I handle feelings like this, and I understand you not wanting to pander to me or hurt yourself by putting up with me and my Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria. But you all let me down very harshly, and I've been unable to move past what happened because of it. You've made being on Tumblr miserable, to the point you're making me consider quitting Tumblr, because being on here and seeing you constantly and feeling that sense of hatred hurts, especially when you're being closer to my friends than they are with me. I've been told you don't hate me, but it's hard to believe and accept that when, in my head, you've all decided to block me for unknown reasons, and denied me the ability to apologize.

Hexed. I understand you find what I post about weird. And I understand I was interacting with people who "dragged the server down". You're the one I understand the reasoning of the most. Not following me back because you don't like my posts is fine, though you could've just blocked tags/post content about that stuff. If I was tagging things improperly you should've told me so I could correct it, instead of letting it sit inside you until you couldn't handle it. I get I was encouraging people to vent in Tau Heximus 2, something you didn't want. But again, you should have said something, or done something. I contributed to making your server a place you didn't enjoy. I feel like you wanted both a strictly positive place, and a place where people can be honest and close, two things that don't mesh. I chose the one that I enjoyed more, a close, honest community. I'm sorry I went against your wishes.

June. When you left the server, you said that "Bug Squad" were real ones, and that you still liked us. You then went on to call us and our friends Delusional for starting a new server after the old server's death. That hurt immensely. I understand you were in an emotional place, but using a word like that is not acceptable. You also went to my girlfriend's private vent blog to target it directly. You're the only one I ever blocked, because you were being actively hateful, and betrayed my trust directly. I have since unblocked you, though, because I'm not mad at you, not anymore. You were trying to cope with what happened, and I get it. I just wish you handled things more gracefully and politely. I'm sorry for whatever I did to hurt you, besides joining a new server. Just, please, work on your emotional control some, so outbursts like this don't happen again.

Thunder. You're the one I miss the most. I felt so close to you. You almost felt like a brother to me. But the way you've been avoiding bringing up what I did to hurt you makes me feel like you either don't want me to know what i did, or don't know what I did yourself. I just wish you'd be more open to talking, so we can work things out. I'm so sorry for hurting you.

Bobbu. I thought we were still friends when you invited me to join Art and Slimes. I turned it down because I don't think I could handle a server of that size, and had already joined the new server. While we maybe weren't as close as some of the others, I still considered you a friend. I'm sorry for whatever I did.

Raz. I am so, so sorry for everything that happened. TH2 was the only place that you had found comfort and support in to such a degree, and I've been worried about how you've been without that support. I feel like you used to trust me a lot, enough to confide in me about some of your issues. I wish I knew what I did to betray that trust.

There's three others I wish to bring up that haven't hurt me as bad, but I still wish to say something to.

Mars, I'm glad we're still friends. But it feels like you're less a part of Bug Squad than you are Hexed and June's friend group. I'm always worried about the state of our friendship, since you interact with them so much more than Me, Rico, and Tetra. I just feel excluded and neglected, is all. I'm sorry.

Yaza, I don't know how to feel about you. You're clearly more of June and Hexed's friend than mine. Clearly you don't like the new server because we kept bringing this stuff up in the early days, and I'm so sorry for that. I just wish we could still be friends. Because right now it doesn't feel like you want to be my friend.

Eblu. I don't know what to think of you. You're a good guy, really. But when you say you're my friend and then turn around a few days later and say "if you're friends with [close friend of mine] don't interact with me" I have issues with that. Deciding that everyone who's friends with someone is now bad because they made a mistake is not okay. Yes, it was bad that it happened. Yes, that friend should've been more careful. You are valid for being upset by what you saw. But you don't have to declare everyone who likes that person undesirable. You took it too far.

There are two things I did that I feel I need to apologize for that I actually know of.

When Tau Heximus 2 was dying, I had said that killing the server would kill me. That was disgusting of me. I should not have said that. It was emotionally manipulative of me. I was scared, and confused, I had never experienced something like that before, the loss of somewhere that felt like home, it really felt like I was going to die, and I spoke with my heart instead of my head. If this is what I did to hurt you, I am deeply sorry for saying something so uncomfortable. I'm doing my best to keep my emotional responses under control. And I hope that should anything like that happen again, I won't have such a dramatic response.

I would also like to apologize for being so difficult to help. Whenever I'm offered advice on how to improve or fix something, I have a habit of coming up with excuses, or just flat out rejecting it. I don't mean to come off as ungrateful or opposed to your help. Stressful situations cause me to mentally shut down in a way where anything to help that takes even a slight amount of effort becomes an insurmountable task. I'm trying my best to be more receptive of help, even if it's just agreeing that it would help. I just wish I had the means and energy to actually act on the advice. I am so sorry for anyone who I've hurt by denying your help. Offering me advice does help me mentally, because it lets me know people care, but I feel terrible that I hurt people by not being able to accept and act on the help.

This isn't a call-out post. This is me asking for clarification on what I did wrong, apologizing for what I know I did, and wishing to clear things up.

Thank you for reading.

#long post #i'm sorry.

[notsohehehahanow]

I had this idea while outside but basically Mike seems to just know shit sometimes like that's not a dumb kid he's oblivious to feelings but he's not stupid like people make him out to be sometimes

I think it'd be neat if that was brought up a level and to a creepy one

More specifically clocking the bad men in public even if they're just being normal random dudes living their lives, knowing they're being watched by the lab, shit that makes you think El has been telling him this stuff when in reality he just knows

Like that car? At the junk yard? Yea no they're being spied on. Hey did you guys know that the random blond guy at that park with the two kids and the baseball hat was one of the bad men?

Like he just knows this shit and it creeps the lab the fuck out cause you know the kid who just murdered a demo dog? Yea he's staring at the guys who were parked in the parking lot that is full of other cars. How he knew they were there? Oh he just had a bad feeling about that one specific car that looks like 5 others in this parking lot

I also think he should have full rights to go feral and beat the shit out of someone, more specifically with random shit he found around his house like that chair and oh that ceramic cup and hey that candle holder thing from season two has now given someone a concussion

Same with just the rest of the party, but more specifically Mike, but the whole party should be allowed to make the bad men physically recoil, give em some anxiety yknow

I want the Duffers to take advantage of how easily Finn could be the horror instead of dealing with it

#please 🙏 #duffers 🙏 #finn would play that role so well too #mike wheeler #finn wolfhard #stranger things #stranger things 5 #st #st5

[cyn-if]

Wow when I read it for the first time I shuddered. From the first scene I could already imagine how it's painful. Wow. My poor poor MC 😭 nah, no ROs can have them. This poor little meowmeow did nothing wrong. Nuhuh. Never-ever. Gonna kill everyone that participated into shackling them or stayed aside and didn't help (looking at you, best friend) 🥰

*ok maybe I'll reconsider it about no-romance route... but MC gonna be super feral >:0

But fr your description of what torturous life (existence even, not a life tbh) MC had led is soo detailed. My jaw hurt while l read about all spikes and things.

Hmm if it's okay could you give us ROs reaction at MC that flinches every time they try to pat/hug/or just move their hand towards MC (maybe to hold MCs hand or just touch them). In the crushing stage 👀

I'm glad you found the writing compelling. I really was anxious about the tone/description of more darker themes because I find that I write a little too sarcastically sometimes. But I'm glad the darker themes are shining through that.

As for the reactions of the ROs at a flinch on first touch: (I've actually got a pretty good scene in mind for a really similar situation coming up in the book, so look forward to that as well as my little explanations!)

Everix would get so concerned about the MC's flinching. They'd instantly accept that the MC might need a lot more time to be comfortable with touch then a normal person, and do their best to respect that. In that moment, they'd probably (somewhat alarmingly) politely apologize and try to comfort the MC with words instead. Everix would, depending on how private the location the first time this occurs, try to play a little therapy with the MC, seeing if there is anything they could do to help the MC feel more at ease.

Hayes would be a little confused, being someone who enjoys touch greatly. The moment would probably linger a little awkwardly, with Hayes thinking over what happened before brushing it off. They wouldn't try to comfort the MC, but would apologize and drop the topic. Restraining themselves from trying to touch the MC, unless the MC initiates or asks. And probably failing at that as well, eventually they'd (in private) want to talk about what they can do to help the MC.

Sam would get irrationally angry, in their head at least. The MC and Sam had been very close (even in a platonic relationship) during their childhood and so seeing the MC flinch at their touch would piss Sam off, most likely being pissed at themself mainly. Sam would apologize, not try and pry or address the topic. But they'd then relentlessly "guard" the MC, if anyone tried to touch them Sam would warn them off. Not (just) because of possessiveness, but to protect them.

Quinn would try to gracefully pivot the situation to give the MC an out, if they didn't want to talk about it. However, if the MC is willing to talk about the topic, Quinn would be obviously curious about why the MC flinches, and would want to try to work with the MC to overcome their tocuhaverseness or at least address it. Depending on just how much Quinn likes the MC, she may even try to think of potential remedies for anxiety (think alchemical solutions to calm the MC down). She would tell the MC about her thoughts, very much trying to "solve" a problem.

Maverick is a unique case, because unless absolutely needed, at the crushing stage of a relationship, he would never dare touch the MC. In his case, I seem him observing someone else try to touch the Mc and noticing the flinch. He'd do his best in the moment to tell that person off, not angrily or violently mind you, but he would be there. Afterwards, depending on if the MC talks to him like friends would and not like a sovereign to a subject, he'd bring up the incident and try to better understand the MC.

[altschmerzes]

🌹🌹 Wriggle Up and/or New York Minute pleassssse 🙏

yesssss okay new york minute has taken over my brain for a moment so i'll go with an excuse to share some of that one

('new york minute' is my first fic for the bear, btw, it is a cousin michelle from the christmas episode pov of The Whole New York Debacle. as always i am really really anxious taking my first try at character voices, and picking a pov character who is a minor side character in one (1) episode has been both freeing and anxiety provoking LMAO. so. here's this.)

(also it's.... long. we know this about me and clips.)

As soon as Carmy is under her roof, safely tucked away in her guest room, Michelle takes what feels like her first full breath in since Christmas. It’s not like everything is magically okay now - Carmy certainly isn’t okay, and he’s just one little piece of the whole fucked up puzzle, but she’s finally done something about it. Michelle has found the one piece of that puzzle that she can do anything about at all and she’s done it. That’s the part that’s driven her the most out of her mind - knowing that things need to be done, that nothing is alright in Chicago, and not knowing what to do. Who to try and help, never mind how.

Natalie has Pete and her friends from school. She’s got a home and distance and she’d mentioned while on a walk with Michelle, looking away like she wasn’t sure what the response would be, that she had started therapy after Thanksgiving. And Michael has… Well. When they talk on the phone, Natalie doesn’t have a lot to say about Michael that’s encouraging. Michelle is worried about Michael but it’s not like she can do anything about that. They were close when they were younger but the older they got and the more Donna took a shine to her the more strained her relationship with Michael got. They were a competition of their own, really, or at least a battlefield on the war between their mothers.

Grandpa Berzatto, right? Michael Berzatto. A looming figure gone before any of her generation was born, and so of course the oldest grandchild is named after him - both of them were, at the beginning and the end of the same year, one down each branch of the family tree. Michael and Michelle. They thought it was funny when they were younger. Used to tell people they were twins, when they were real little. It’s not like that anymore. At least Richie is there, though. At least Richie is always there.

Thank god for Richie, said almost no one ever and Michelle several times over the course of her life.

One time, she was seventeen and going out with a guy who was far too old for her and a massive asshole on top of that. When she finally dumped him and his reaction scared her enough to tell them what was going on, Michael and Richie got a baseball bat and a tire iron out of the garage and broke every window and light cover on the guy’s car. Richie took one of the pieces from the tail-light to wood shop class the next day and while the teacher was off making sure some sophomores didn’t lose any fingers using a table saw, he sanded down the edges and put a hole through it, then gave it to her on a keychain. Michelle still has it somewhere. Michelle still has that keychain somewhere and Richie still has Michael and so that’s one thing she doesn’t have to worry about not being able to fix.

So there’s nothing to do for any of them, because Natalie is going to be okay in ways that even Michelle isn’t, and Michael is out of her reach, and Donna is out of everyone’s reach. (Donna needs help. She’s obviously suffering and needs some serious help, but Michelle learned long ago with her own mother that there’s no forcing help on someone who won’t accept it and will stop speaking to you for months if you try to push it anyway.)

But Carmy… Carmy is in her guest room and it’s still pretty early but she thinks he’s asleep and this she can do. This, him, Michelle can help.

(Michael caught her on the way out, when she and Stevie were leaving. She was worried for a moment, because he had that intense look on his face that meant trouble could be coming, and when he said heard you asked Carm to come stay with you for a few days in New York she steeled her nerves for one last explosion for the road. Michael was silent and Michelle was silent and he still had a hold of her arm but he wasn’t squeezing or anything so she let him keep his hand for now. And then he just said Good. Get him the fuck out of here and do not let him come back. Then he gave her a hug so tight she couldn’t breathe and kissed her on the cheek and said love you, Mitch and he was gone.)

#there is so much like. woe. this VAST NETWORK OF HEADCANONS IVE DEVELOPED be upon ye #in this fic #about the specifics of like. how is cousin michelle related to them. what's their relationship like. did they grow up together etc. #gav gab #gav answers #define-lying #writing liveblog #ask box games #fic: new york minute