#I haven't slept for days maybe that's why I feel like this: numb | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nozomijoestar · 2 months

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Took me a while to realize but I can see similarities in how Asuka seems to process grief and how Guts from Berserk also processed his grief after the Eclipse. They both get so overwhelmed by the wrong that happened to them (father's hospitalization vs the Eclipse and a lifetime of misery) their reaction isn't to seek comfort in others or help/protect their loved one who needs them after the tragedy, it's to go off and inflict their pain on others to self soothe, as if that'll release the feeling from their minds.

The difference is that Guts was called out for this by Rickert and Godo. He needed to snap out of wanting to prioritize ridding his own pain to remember Casca needed him, and that Casca even in the state she was in was all the good in his life who went through the same experience with him. Guts had to remember he loves Casca more than he wants to self destruct. Like Godo told him he was a sword called fear with cracks in it. He feared sitting with his pain and grief and seeing it on the person he loved after so much violation. He feared vulnerability.

Asuka doesn't do this reevaluatation and has no one to call her out for her self destructive coping canonically. She can't sit with anything bad or face looking at it on a loved one either. That's too bad and helpless of a feeling. She's just as much made of fear (primarily from any helplessness as much as violations of her inner ethics) which fuels her anger, but her one personal attachment to her father who needs her isn't enough to make her want to reevaluate what she does at all. Instead his tragedy is the permission she needs to self destruct and destroy in the process, not like Guts who always told himself everything was for Casca and the fallen Hawks, who always reminded himself of the pain to justify the bloodletting.

Unlike Guts I think she'd be stubborn even accepting to listen to someone pointing her behavior out. Though her anger toward Feng did start out carrying a reminder this vengeance is for Dad even if it kills her in 5, even in 5's branching narratives that excuse falls apart when she continues in the tournament for her own pleasure during her route. The moment vengeance is achieved critically injured Dad is out of her mind. Her behavior during 6 repeats this process, preferring to hurt herself and others rather than sit to process a shitty feeling over her and the world's situation. Like Guts in this state she pushes away anyone and everyone else including any comforts because the anger isn't resolved, the fear isn't resolved, the pain isn't resolved.

They're both used to everyone being against them and having to fight for survival until they found joy in it as a side effect. And because of that independence born from isolation when something like the tragedies that happened takes place they put resolving their pain not on sharing with others but into scorching the earth along with themselves.

I don't say this either to imply they're exactly alike or that they have enough similarities to make a true character comparison because they absolutely don't. There's also some stuff I'm leaving out simply because Guts is a far more complex character in ways where there's nothing from Asuka to compare against (I would say Kazuya is the closest, more fitting Tekken comparison for substituting Guts vs Asuka style notes). I just find it interesting that even across wildly different stories the outline for an angry, self destructive, terrified person who thinks self destruction makes them strong and puts them in control uses a lot of the same foundation. And the contrast in their depths really shows how far you can push the concept depending on what you want or need for the character.

#tekken #berserk #I've haven't slept in six hours #asuka kazama #do i still think she'd pull a fighting 100 men for their lover type situation- MAYBE tbh #you could give her one technically but you'd have to really stretch her denial of seeing her violent behavior as ever being wrong #and that risks losing the scope of the character and the stakes level she represents #like i don't think she surpresses her pain into an other self at all she's very clear she's just reactionary so the brooding guilt #you need to have a BoD doesn't really apply at all she's not remorseful and ruminating on fighting in that sense at all whereas Guts guilts #Asuka hits you and moves on with her day because that should teach you; Guts is a whole storm of emotions and moral pulls even when numb #BoD is more a Jin thing but i still prefer Guts and not bc he did it first im sorry Jin jfjdhss #*you could give Asuka a BoD- idk why that tag is missing after the 100 men comment #anyway bitches who embody the sin of wrath #Asuka is about the childish joy and childish impulse we feel hurting others versus Guts being a study on why we hurt ppl bc we hurt too #*BoD is beast of darkness of course #also obviously there are lines Asuka will NEVER cross even in anger that Guts had no problem violating as Black Swordsman #so how does Asuka process grief...SHE DOESN'T LOL #she'd rather kill herself or dismiss feeling hurt than so much as cry

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504py · 1 month

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Do you have any thoughts on yandere SDV Harvey?🤔

i sure do!!!! i think i got a little carried away 😭😭😭 i hope i delivered!

Yandere Harvey Relationship Headcanons

Gender neutral, no use of Y/N, munchausen syndrome by proxy, implied murder, implied NSFW, Harvey's a little weird about bodily fluids and food, long post ahead!

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How the relationship started...

Let's say, he knows you outside of his work, and somehow, you're the one person in Stardew Valley who has never entered his clinic before. Honestly, you'd have drawn his attention right then and there because of your strange imperviousness to harm or disease.

Like... You? That farmer who goes down into the mines every other day to fight monsters has never been injured? You, who works day and night to the point of exhaustion has never gotten sick and required medical assistance?

The fact that you weren't one of his patients would worry him to his bones.

Even if you weren't one of his patients, he'd have befriended you outside of work. Perhaps at the saloon, after hours, and one of the very rare times he's seen you relax.

He notices the slight limp as you enter, different from your usual gait. When he asks, you chalk it up to a rock in your boot. Harvey sends you a disapproving stare and a furrowed mustache, and you loosen up.

You tell him you tripped while running away from a slime in the mines. And that you maybe pulled something while running. And maybe you lifted something wrong yesterday and hurt your back. And-

Harvey takes off his glasses to rub at the space between his eyebrows, stressed.

"And not once did you think to come visit me?"

"Thought it would go away if I just slept and drank enough water."

His gaze softens.

"..I really do advise it. Please."

Your fingers play with your glass. He can see a bruise forming on the side of your wrist, and the cuts and calluses on your skin.

"...I'll do it tomorrow."

He sighs slightly.

"Well, since I can't do anything for you right now, I'll at least buy you a drink."

"You can do that?"

"Hey, it numbs the pain. Painkiller." He jokes, and you laugh and shake your head. He realizes he likes the sound of your laugh.

"But- wait, don't take that as real medical advice. Really. Please."

That pulls another laugh out of you, louder, and pink warms his cheeks as he laughs heartily alongside you.

The next evening, Harvey waited all day for you to come in. It was nearing closing hours, and he was worried you had disregarded his advice, but right as he got up to start closing the clinic, the door opens, and there you are, leaves in your hair and your muddy shoes leaving a track on his tiles.

He's elated, he knows he shouldn't be, considering why you're even here, but he's so glad you listened to him, so glad you're here. He looks noticeably flustered, his hair is slightly out of place, his glasses are sliding down his nose, and his tie is loose.

"O-Oh, hey there. You finally came in."

"Were you waiting for me? I apologize. It looked like you were about to close up."

He waves your worries away with a dismissive hand, "Ah, what's one more patient? Come on, you look like you really need my help, anyways."

You follow him into a room, cringing at the muddy mess you leave on the floor.

"Sorry for that- I can clean up after we're done."

Harvey insistently shakes his head, sighing your name, "No, no, can't have you doing that, not in the condition you're in." He motions over to the bed, you sit on the edge of it.

"Besides, I haven't even started my assessment of you yet, but I already know you're gonna need a few days of rest at least. Doctor's orders."

He smiles softly at your annoyed expression, donning his stethoscope as you straighten your posture slightly, readying for him to place the other end of the apparatus on you.

"...See, you've got an abnormal heart rate for someone who is at rest."

He notes the warmth of your skin under his palm, resting against your back.

"Have you been feeling ill recently? Runny nose, coughing, headaches, anything of the sort?"

"U-Uh, no." You shake your head, playing with the fabric of your trousers. Nervous.

"...You seem rather flustered. Any reason?"

Your eyes glance up at his, he cocks his head, and you immediately look back down to your feet.

"...Nah."

Harvey smiles, knowingly, and the rest of the appointment continues as normal.

Expectations...

Following this, he'd be more obvious in his attempts to court you. His courting attempts would feel rather old-fashioned, but I think there's a lot of heart in them. I feel like Harvey would be a little bit of a sucker for romantic things, so you'd definitely be receiving letters, all from a secret admirer, of course.

He is confident that he likes you, but he'd carry a lot of anxiety about being so upfront about it, and that perhaps you wouldn't feel the same way.

The letters he sends you would be brief yet sweet. Short messages to pick you up for the day, just wanting to be a part of your life.

"If you ever feel like all the work you do isn't appreciated, know that I am always here, and I always do. You are doing great."

You'd tell him about the letters you've been receiving, during one of your evenings together at the bar. It'd make him blush. Oh, his letters were so important to you that you had to gush about them to a friend?

"And... What do you think of them? The letters?" His eyes are slightly wider than they should be, but the reflections on his glasses hide his faintly, much-too focused expression.

You shy from his eye contact, "...I think they're really sweet. But honestly, I wish they'd just... say it to me directly instead of hiding like this. I want to communicate, talk to them, y'know? Have a conversation, and stuff.."

Harvey blinks, wets his lips.

"What do you think you'd do if he-" He clears his throat, "-they did?"

You frown a little, mulling over the thought for a bit.

"...I'd go on a few dates with them, see if things work out."

His exhale is shaky, he takes a sip of his whiskey.

"Who do you think it is?"

You meet his gaze. His eyes are warm, his cheeks are red too, but that might be the alcohol... Though you realize he's not the type to get flushed when drunk.

"...Is it you?"

His fingers around his glass tremble, and his bottom lip quivers.

"I.. w-well..." He pushes his glasses up, nervously running a hand through his hair. You giggle, and he relaxes.

"Yeah." He smiles warmly.

"Yeah?" You chirp out a laugh again, "I figured."

Although Harvey was usually one who didn't have any problem holding eye-contact at all, now he found himself unable to look at you for too long without getting giddy like a schoolgirl and having to look away to save his racing heart.

That night, you two would be declared a couple. He teased you, wondering where that "first few dates then we'll see how it works out" phase went. You said it was different if it was him, and he had to hide his face in his hands to conceal his boyish, cheesy grin.

His first show of affection would be the next morning, when he brought you a bouquet of flowers to your doorstep, but upon arrival, seeing your expansive field of vegetation, he realized it was perhaps a bit stupid to gift flowers to someone who grows them.

Nonetheless, you accepted them from an embarrassed Harvey gratefully, saying you've wanted to try growing these for a while. Lo and behold, the next time he shows up, with a more thought-out gift this time, he sees a few new flower pots on your front porch.

Harvey as your boyfriend is strangely rather maternal. He tends to be quite the worrywart, always fussing over any cuts or bruises you may get while going about your day, making sure you eat and get enough rest, and always making sure you're dressed properly.

Oh, the different kind of monster Harvey turns into during the winter LOL. He will stay posted by your door, making sure you don't step a foot outside without a thick coat or gloves.

He does enjoy more than he likes to admit, though, when you still feel cold and he has to give you his coat or his scarf. It makes him all smiley and he thinks you look adorable in his clothing.

I think, his deepest desire, is for you to always stay safe, and that he is the one to provide that safety. I mean, with him being a doctor, he is the only person qualified to look after you anyways, but he still does get jealous.

He gets really upset when he's out of the clinic for a bit, and finds out that Maru was the one who tended to your wounds instead of him.

He gets more jealous when you tell him about the work you did that day, and another person was with you.

What do you mean you spent the evening fishing while conversing with Elliott? That could've been him...

What do you mean you spent the afternoon in the library with Penny? Wha- Gunther winked at you!?

Harvey really does want to spend more time with you, but he has a duty to attend to.

Unless...

Punishments...

Maybe, one day, Harvey will stop worrying so much over your health. He'll let you do your thing as you please, though it would hurt him to see you going about your day so haphazardly. But he'll hold back on his usual worried malewife nagging, and just let you do you.

One day, your dangerous lifestyle will catch up on you, and maybe you'll catch a cold, or you'll break a bone. Harvey will be there immediately, much too prepared.

Even though this is what he wanted from this plan, he still cries. He hates seeing you so beat-up, but he couldn't think of any other way to always be by your side. At least the tears blow away any suspicion of his part in this.

It could be a tiny fracture, but he'll still insist you'd need a cast, and that you'd need a wheelchair for the first few weeks. And, of course, Harvey's there to coddle you and help you around.

Maru says she can look after you while Harvey runs the clinic, but he gets uncharacteristically hostile at the mere suggestion of this. If Maru were to keep prying, if she were to find out that your injuries aren't as bad as he says they are, then Harvey might have to resort to more drastic measures.

Murder would be a very difficult thing for Harvey to do, but when he thinks about the life you two have right now- having you rely on him for everything, taking care of you everyday, spending every single moment with each other- his heart feels like it could fall out of his chest at the thought of anyone taking that away from you two.

His access to such a wide array of chemicals and medicines would be terrifying. If anyone threatens this peaceful, perfect life between you two, he could simply inject them with a certain concoction during their routine check-ups, say they needed it, that it was medicine, and it wouldn't even show in an autopsy.

Unfortunately, his tampering with human life extends to you.

Harvey, I think, would get much too enamored by this life you two have made since you've gotten injured.

Being able to dote on you with no restraint, being by your side for every single moment, it was all he could ever dream of.

But all good things come to an end, and your fractured bone would start to heal.

He never thought he'd be capable of lying, not sure if he'd ever done it before, but it's a newfound talent to him. Worries him how good he is at it.

He tells you you need to keep that cast on. That even if you're allowed to use crutches now instead of a wheelchair, that you still need his assistance. He insists that you need him.

Any sort of push-back from you would have his heart pounding. No, no, you can't get up and go back to work. You can't be doing chores on your own, he'll do that- You cannot leave.

Munchausen syndrome by proxy from an actual doctor would be a horrifying thing to go through. Not just any other doctor either, but Harvey, a man who seems so gentle and kind-hearted, a man who is supposed to be your partner.

Sad to say, but I don't think you'd have any way out of this. Your best course of action would be to just let him take care of you as much as he pleases. In due time, he would want to see you get better, so you'll be back to having your freedom in a few months, maybe...

Rewards...

It is pretty comedic saying this after that punishments portion, but Harvey, on more normal days, really is a passive man. He doesn't really have any strange obsessive habits, though he's probably a little weird about fluids...

By that, I mean he'd probably slip a little bit of his saliva or semen into his cooking. He gets a really euphoric rush when he sees you eating that tainted food he made for you. He enjoys that idea that a part of him is mingled in your body now. The other way around goes, too.

When you're sleeping, sometimes you drool, did you know that? You probably don't, because Harvey always wipes it off and licks it. It gives him shivers whenever he does, makes him way more excited than it should.

His libido is not the highest, but that's because I think he makes an active effort to suppress himself. Wants to be good for you. Harvey does have these dirty thoughts pretty often, but he usually just excuses himself to the bathroom for a second to relieve himself when it gets too unbearable. Even then, he dislikes this, since he feels like it'd be a waste of his release, since it's not inside you.

Every day would feel very domestic, he'd tease that you two already act like an old married couple, but he'd secretly hope you'd catch on to the idea he's putting down.

Harvey really does want to get married to you. He honestly, strangely, would act a lot more normally if you two were to be wed. It's like, there is something that exists that ties you two together, so even if you two aren't always by each other's side, he at least finds some comfort in knowing you two are bound forever.

Let's just, uh, hope you don't divorce him... Honestly, at this point, he may have already taken care of Mayor Lewis, so that option won't even be open to you anymore.

Harvey would probably try to pop the question during a little picnic he prepared for the two of you. The box for your engagement ring hidden in the picnic basket, amongst carefully wrapped sandwiches and lunchboxes.

You would pick it up while looking through the basket, wondering what it was. You open it, and Harvey feels like he could faint from how fast his heart is beating.

He stutters a lot, being unable to look you in the eye, then you rest a hand on his shoulder, and he feels alright again.

"I... I'd really like to get married with you, my love. Whaddya say?"

You smile at him, you say yes, and Harvey literally shouts in joy, before roughly taking you in his arms.

He quickly apologizes for being so erratic, but he swears he's never been happier. He just loves you so much.

Even though you two were only fiancés at this point, he'd call you his husband/wife/spouse from time to time, just a slip of the tongue, but he does get shy about it.

Your life together would be relatively the same now, just with some more added affection.

He'd get more comfortable around you, kissing you more often, getting more touchy, wearing less clothing around the house.

Of course, his main core value is still there; to care for you.

When thinking of Harvey's love language, you would, rationally, expect it to be acts of service. However, I posit this; his love language would be allowing himself to be taken care of.

He does get tired, and you do notice. You try to do his chores, try to take care of yourself so he'd have some time to relax, but he always gets fussy about it.

He insists that he can still do it, that he can still do things for you. Perhaps, he's scared that if he's unable to please you, that you'll go elsewhere, fall out of love with him.

You can sense that fear, and you tell him you'll still be here. You tell him to go lie down and rest, and you'll join him when you've finished cleaning up.

The wrinkles on his forehead soften up, so does his gaze, and he nods.

"I... Alright, sweetheart. I'll be waiting. Don't take too long, okay?"

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lovearne · 1 year

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guilt

captain john price x fem!reader

Warnings: body dysmorphia, themes of poor mental health, comfort, reader is mentally unwell, Simon is a softie, price is the best husband™️, age gap, talks about mental health, small talk about sex, reader hates her body, no use of y/n

My page is 18+ only. I don't tolerate minors here, this is my safe place to express myself, and I don't consent to minors viewing my works or my blog.

Words: 4k

Diclaimer: if you have poor body image, please tread carefully, I wasn't doing well and wrote this to cope. Yall are beautiful and I love you.

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You've been… off the past few days. You didn't understand why, why you felt the way you did, or why you haven't had the energy to clean the house. Why you hadn't been motivated for anything. When you get like this it's hard to really do anything that requires you to work your brain or anything really.

You've been like this more times than you remember, and you never really remember coming out of it, like your just constantly feeling bad, and then one day you feel good. It's annoying really.

Today was neither the day it started or the day it will end, you don't remember when it started really. You just feel exhausted. It didn't help that you married a man that has four son like people in his life. They were constantly in and out of your house when they weren't on deployment. And constantly in and out of the house you and Price had for when he was on base.

You just couldn't handle it today. You'd known John for a few years, dated for 2 years and married for 6 months. In all that time, you don't remember ever once feeling like this around him. He was off deployment, yet he still got up everyday to run with the boys, meaning he was up before you. Meaning he'd be expecting to come home to a nice made breakfast, but instead you couldn't get out of bed. You didn't want to be yourself at the moment. You felt bad for feeling that way too, you felt guilty, because you love the life you have with John. You have everything you could have ever asked for, it's just your head.

You don't know how you could ask for help either, not that you wanted it anyway. You wanted to know how to make this go away, you hate feeling like this, it just drives the guilt up more. And soon there are tears in your eyes. You huff and wrap the blankets around you tighter, pulling them up to your chin, closing your eyes. You fade back into sleep, hoping to wake up numb or happy.

"Hey babe!" John greets as he walks into the front door, the boys in tow. He stops as he doesn't smell the breakfast you normally make. Was something wrong?

He was followed by the boys as he enters the house, walking to the kitchen.

"Babe?" You weren't there, something must've been wrong.

He continues to sweep the house for you, you were nowhere downstairs you must be having a shower upstairs.

"Boys, I'm gonna go see if she's upstairs. I'll be back." He tells them.

Walking up the flight of stairs he can feel himself growing more and more worried each step. More so when he can't hear the shower running. Maybe you were having some personal time in your shared room.

He knocks on the door first, incase you didn't want him to walk in. When you don't answer he frowns even more. The door slowly swings open, he can see you, bundled up and asleep. He smiles. Relieved as he walks over to you.

Sitting beside you on the bed, he admires your form as you sleep. His face is warm as his heart is. You've slept in, you weren't in danger. He feels the weight of the world fall off his shoulders.

His warm smile is the first thing you see as you wake up, and feel even more guilt. "Hey pretty girl, good mornin." He says softly, a warm smile on his face. "Do you want a cuddle?" He asks. You shake your head, feeling more guilty. "That's alright darling. Do you want some food? I can make you something if you want." You shake your head again, the guilt your feeling was immense.

"I just wanna stay here please." You surprised yourself with how level and soft you kept your voice. Almost whispering, just as he was talking to you. He smiles and replies.

"OK darling. Do you want me to stay?" You shake your head. "OK baby, I'll be downstairs OK? Just call for me if you need anything." You nod. He leaves a kiss on your forehead and leaves the room, turning the light off and closing the door slowly. You start crying as the door closes, the guilt overwhelming you.

"Did ya find her?" Johnny asked as he walked down the steps. Price nods.

"I don't think she's feeling very well today, lads." He addresses the group.

"Maybe we should make her some breakfast then?" Kyle adds in. John smiles at the young man.

"I think she'd like that. I say go for it." The boys set to work, making some eggs, French toast, pancakes, bacon, and sausage. Simon made the pancakes, Johnny was on meat duty, Kyle made the eggs and French toast, and John toasted the bread.

They were done pretty quickly, you having invested in griddles and an extra stovetop on the island.

You and John had bought this house and started renovations while you were still dating. He has been deployed when most of the demo had been done, he was only supposed to be gone for a month at most, he bad needed to head out on a special mission. You decided to put yourself to the test and worked on the house yourself. You had most of the house put back together, after getting what needed professionally done. You were painting the drywall and sheetrock when Price had came home. He was 3 weeks late coming home, and he was surprised when be walked in and the house looked more like a house than it did when he'd left. That night the two of you had a paint fight. It was one of your favourite memories.

John shakes out of his daydream as the boys alerted him they were all done and ready to eat. He smiles.

"I'll go get my wife." He says to the three of them. Ghost watched him intently while he left, turning to soap and gaz, no, Johnny and Kyle when he was out for earshot.

"Somethings up. " He states. Johnny nods his head.

"I agree, it's 10am and she hasn't even came down for coffee yet. The pots still full!" The boys knew your and John's schedule like the back of their hand. They knew when Price left in the morning, he'd put a pot of coffee on for you, a nice surprise when you woke up. You'd nor.ally wake up around 7:30 or 8 and have a few cups before they arrived.

"Do you think she's OK?" Kyle chimed in. Simon hums.

"I dunno."

"I hope she is. She's too nice to be not ok."

"The world hurts nice people the most Kyle." Simon's voice was almost sobering, the scars on his face showing wisdom in such an area.

The boys get to work in setting the table, placing the food nicely when done.

You were standing in front of the mirror, your eyes red as you pulled and prodded at areas of your body that you loathed. Pockets of fat, dips in your hips, your chest that is never quite what you wanted it to be. The tears flowing as you try and stuff the fat on your stomach into place, wanting it to disappear. You hated the way you looked and it wasn't hard to see.

You shouted in your head, all the nastiest words and hateful comments you could think of, any that your siblings used against you, or terrible kids at school growing up, terrible people now, your own parents. You yelled at yourself in the mirror for what felt like ages. You wanted to get up and go cuddle into John. You had gotten up to seek him out, wanting to watch him as he did his daily life. You wanted to snuggle in his lap as he smoked a cigar out on the deck, or lay your head on his lap as he read his current book.

When you stood, you made the mistake of looking in the mirror. You didn't see what you seen some days, instead you seen the goblin that stood in your place. Very rarely did you think you were beautiful, but it's not normally this bad. Looking in the mirror had set you off and you couldn't stop nitpicking yourself over every insignificant thing.

You thought yourself as ugly, your body and your personality. The one you portray everywhere day couldn't have been your true one, could it? Not if this version of you was always there, always lurking, waiting and ready to pounce everytime you thought you looked bad or anytime you did something wrong, and made it worse.

"Love?" Your thoughts are interrupted by a knocking. You quickly jump into the closet, trying to hide your red face and tears away from the man that you love. He couldn't see you like this, he couldn't see the monster you became when your brain lost the battle. You didn't want him to see such an ugly part of yourself.

So you hide yourself, hidden in between his clothes, you breath in his scent. Even though these clothes were washed, that damn cigar smell stayed. You breathed in the comforting scent of your husband's favourite cigar. Wrapping yourself in one if his coats, you cuddle into it, trying to ignore the man himself.

"Love? You in here?" You could hear John walk around the bedroom. His footsteps nearing the walk in, his hands rested on either nob of the door. "Love? May I come in?" You answer back a yes.

He swings the doors open softly.

"There she is!" He laughed, his tone soft and loving. You smile, hoping your blotchy face could pass as you being sick.

"Here I am." John can tell. You don't know that he knows, but he knows that you don't know. He can tell something is not adding up. Your smile doesn't reach your eyes, and the light that's normally there isn't. It cools him to the core. He needs to help you.

"Hey love, the boys made you breakfast, you fancy coming down?" You sigh, unable to keep your struggle internal. You close your eyes and nod, as if it's almost painful.

"Perfect," he smiles brightly at you. "You might wanna get dressed love, while I love looking at your perfect body, nobody else will get the chance." Your face blushes as he draws attention to your body. He took that as a good sign that you enjoyed his teasing. But it only made you think of why you hate your body, leading to how you hate yourself. You shake your head.

You walked over to John's drawers, pulling out his sweats and a comfortable burgundy shirt, you put them on. They were loose enough, you supposed. You didn't bother putting on a bra, you didn't want to take up more space than you already thought you were. You turned around to see John had been ogling you the whole time, a comfortable smile on his face, love in his eyes. You blushed again and tugged the clothes nervously.

"C'mere beautiful." He takes your hand I'm his softly, kissing the back of it, then leading you to the kitchen. Down the stairs, and through the hallway, you seen the shadows of the boys before them. Johnny, Kyle, and Simon. Your husband's adoptive sons. That makes you their figurative mother, though they treated you more as a sister. There was an age gap between you and John, you being younger than Kyle and Soap. You were in your mid 20s, they were in their late 20s, so you weren't that much younger.

John wasn't twice your age, but he was a good few years older than you, he took care of you, and you took care of him it's how you two worked.

"There she is!" Johnny yelled as he came at you quickly, he pulled you into a hug, and suddenly you fell into a bigger pit of guilt. You gently push at his chest, but let him hug you. That's the least you could do, even though the last thing you want right now is a hug. You sniffle, and then cough a little, just to maybe play off as being sick rather than letting anyone know that your head was at war with itself.

Kyle was the next one to give you a hug, he smelled of old spice and breakfast, you felt even more guilt. These men ran for a few hours and then came over to make themselves breakfast that you normally have made for them. He patted your back as you stood there, your hands trapped under his arms, your eyes settling in the ceiling.

Simon nods at you, and you find yourself looking away instead of nodding back, or asking for a hug like you normally would. You didn't even let John touch you this morning and the two forced hugs you didn't want to repeat. Simon seems to be the only one who realized what was going on with you. You sat through breakfast, nodding along with John as he complimented the boys cooking. The whole time Simon watched you, he studied your manurisms, deeming them the same as his on his bad days.

So, as John, Johnny and Kyle tidy up after breakfast, which you barely ate any of, Simon offered you to come outside for a smoke. You don't smoke, but he does. It's odd when he wants company, but no matter how you were feeling you'd never say no to sitting with him. You know how bad his ptsd and anxiety/paranoia are.

"So," he begins. "I know what's going on." He says, causing you to panic and feel more guilt.

"It's not what you think." You rush, your voice panicked.

"I know what hating yourself looks like sweetheart." You look away from his face, immensely ashamed he'd caught you. "Why do you hate yourself?" He asks. You just furrow your brows at him. "What do you hate about yourself?" He clarifies.

"I don't wanna talk about it." You try and brush it off.

"I know." He nods. "You eventually got me to talk to you about why I hate myself. So I'm not leaving until you tell me." He states.

"I can't." He nods again.

"I know." You sit in silence for a while, he's had a few cigarettes now, his legs dangling off the deck, arms rested on the railing, you sitting the same way.

"Simon?" You say, after gathering your courage and forcing yourself to talk. He turns his head toward you slowly. "I don't have a good enough reason to hate myself." You say. He frowns.

"Whatever reason you have in your head is enough. You don't have to have been through war to hate yourself love." He explains. "And I'll never judge you for it, ever." He says. "All trauma is valid, and all mental health matters." You recognized some of your own words being quoted back at you.

"I don't wanna say." He nods.

"That's alright, do you wanna talk about why you stayed in bed today and barely ate?" You frowned.

"I'm too fat." You say. It's his turn to frown.

"Who said that?" He asks in disbelief.

"Everyone."

"No, I know for sure I didn't say that. And if Price did-"

"John didn't!" You interrupted, he nods. "Just, since I was little. I guess I've always been an easy target." You try to laugh but it's more of a cry.

"Childhood trauma." Ghost remarks.

"It was just bullying." You are quick to defend, why are you quick to defend the people who made you hate yourself?

"No, I know what you're doing. You didn't deserve any word or action of that." Simon could read you better than your husband could.

"How do yo-"

"You are the sweetest person I've met." He starts. "You're so welcoming and understanding. There is nothing wrong with you." That's what you think. You bitterly thought.

"What if there is? What if the reason I feel so bad is because there's something wrong with me?" You break. "My brain turns on itself Simon, it starts to eat away at me, my confidence, my self image, my everything. And I don't know how to stop it." There are tears in your eyes that you hold back.

"Oh love." He pulls you into his chest, a hug from Simon is rare, and you start to sob into him. "It's ok, let it out." He rubs your back, "I'm here for you." Hes learned a lot from you in the past 2 and a half years, a lot of everything useful he didn't have before. He was also your best friend. Sure John is your husband, but you and Simon got on best, in platonical ways. You've joked before that Simon was your soul friend, a platonic soulmate. You knew John was your soulmate in the literal sense, but you understood Simon easier than anyone else on the planet.

John came outside to have a cigar after washing the dishes and watching the other two boys fight for half an hour over who was drying and who was tidying the kitchen. He was alarmed when he heard you sobbing, but relaxed when he saw Simon consoling you.

"I just feel so guilty Simon." Your voice was wrecked, throat raw with emotion.

"Why's that love?"

"I want to be the perfect wife to him, I want to keep up on house work, I want to give him kids, I wanna be there all the time for him. I want to be able to have a desirable body, so that maybe one day he doesn't wake up disgusted with me, like I wake up disgusted by myself." John's heart cracks, deep in his chest. He staggers, as if he'd been shot.

"Hey," Simon grabs your hand. "You have a desirable body." You scoff.

"No, I don't." He hums.

"You do actually. Very desirable. Most of my partners have been bigger. More cushion you know?" He asks. "I like being comfortable and confident that my partner can hold my body weight without it crushing them. Cause darling I weigh a lot. And so does your husband." He states, John smiles at your small smile.

"But what if he wakes up one day and decides he does like my weight, the rolls of fat I have, the ugly fat deposit I have over my butt. What then Simon?" Simon looks you deaf in the eyes.

"I'll just kill him." He says that like it's the most important thing in the world.

"You can't kill my husband!" You shout at him.

"Do I want to? No. But if he hurts you? There isn't anywhere he could hide from me." Simon says. "You are my best friend, don't tell Johnny that. You are number one. Ok? If you need something, I'm here. If someone needs to be killed, I don't care who it is. I will kill them for you." Simon comforts you, his seriousness making you smile, and that smile reaches your eyes. John watched on. Oddly comforted by the fact that if he ever treated you bad, that Simon would be there. He needed to know that you'd be protected as well, if something ever happened to him.

"Oh Simon." You cry and pull him into a hug. "You're the best friend I've ever had." John smiles, seeing you momentarily happy.

"Now, I think you should tell your husband about how you're feeling. He can help as well." Simon states.

"It'll be gone in a few days, maybe I can just fake being the regular me."

"Absolutely not." John interrupted.

"John." You had horror written on your face as he approached the two of you.

"Hey baby," he smiles at you, the pure look of love shining through his eyes. "We have some things to speak about." You shake your head.

"Can we talk about it later?" You ask, he tilts his head as if thinking about it.

"I think it's better if we talk now, yeah?" You sigh. "Simon, I will take over from here, you can go now." He said to the larger man. Simon cocked an eyebrow, but left. John comes to sit beside you, his leg touching yours.

The two of you just sit like that for while, Basking in the sun, and the cool weather outside. Your thoughts were full of times that John had told you you were beautiful, times where you believed him, times where you had to stop the negative thoughts, and times where they won over. Then the tines where he told you he loved you flooded in, you believed him each and every single time, there were times where your mind was against you, and he'd said it and you had thought negatively about it.

"So," he starts. You look at him, not quite meeting his eye. "What's happening baby?" You smile bittersweetly at him.

"Sometimes my brain attacks me." You say. He laughs a little.

"OK, darling wanna tell me how?"

"It makes me feel so bad, like this morning. I couldn't get out of bed until you came and got me. I just didn't have motivation to do anything." He nods. "It's so paralyzing sometimes. The way my brain feels. And then there's the guilt. The guilt for not doing anything all day, for not talking to you, or not doing chores, or not doing anything. Wasting the day away."

"Baby," His hand on your thigh grounds you. "You don't ever have to feel guilty. I understand." He says softly. "I need you to know that you can always talk to me about these things." He says. You make a mental note to never.

"I don't want you seeing that part of me." You whisper, your voice failing you.

"Why baby?"

"It's the ugliest part. I can get so mad at you and say things that I don't mean." He smiles.

"You think I don't have a part of me like that?" He says. "I do, it's rare that it sees the light of day nowadays, but I manage it. You know how I do?" He asks. You shake your head. "I've been going to therapy for a few years now. It's helped me a lot. I wouldn't have married you if I was still the same man I was then. I can ask if we can book you in." He says. His smile was small and comforting again. "I don't mind if you don't want to talk to me about these thoughts and feelings. I do think you need to talk to someone about them though. My therapist is very neutral and easy to talk to." He adds. You look at him, wondering how you've known him for years and didn't know he struggled like you do.

"You never told me that." You say.

"No," he shakes his head. "It's not the same as what you are struggling with, but everyone fights their own battles. Even with their own brains." He says. You admire his wisdom.

"John," you start. "I love you." He smiles, big and happy.

"I love you too sweetheart." He kisses the side of your head. "What do you say we send these boys home, and then spend the day doing anything that we find fun. Get your mind off the bad?" You nod.

"We could play Mario kart?" He nods.

"Of course Mrs. Price." He confirms. You blushed deep red. You always did when he talked to you like that. "And just so you know, no matter what size you are, I will still love you and want to fuck you until you cry. You are the only person I want. I am yours." He kisses away your tears.

"I can't believe we've been married for six months." You say. "I'm still getting used to being Mrs. Price." He smiles.

"Well I could just call you mine." He teases.

"You can call me whatever you want handsome." He laughs. Suddenly the world feels a lot more bright, as the guilt lifts completely off your shoulders, letting yourself enjoy the company of your husband, your temple resting on his collarbone as he presses a kiss into your hair. The two of you sit there, watching the birds as they fly through the air. You were gonna be just fine with him by your side.

#captain john price #john price x reader #captain price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price #cod mw2

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alyssaswrld999 · 2 months

Text

I'm Broken And I Don't Want To Be Sammy

( Sam Winchester x Reader)

Warnings: deppression, suicidal thoughts, deep conversations, broken feelings, self harm, etc.

Y/n's pov:

I never looked at the world so differently until now. Never knew that I could go down into a pit of emotions that kill me every single day. To were it makes me feel that no one needs me anymore...

That no one will miss me...

That it's ok to leave this world behind...

"Y/n you okay" Sam asked. I look up at Sam getting out of my trace of thoughts. "Yeah I'm alright Sam" I said giving a decent smile. I look down and get back to researching our case. It seems we are dealing with a ghost of some sort which is never good.

"Listen to this according to the crime scenes and deaths that have happened in the past five years they all are near this old mental asylum at a 10 mile radius at least. And they are even killed the same way which is all suicide" Sam said.

Dealing with a case that involved ghosts used to make me sick to my stomach but now from the way I've been feeling for awhile it doesn't bother me much anymore. The fate I seek lately by any paranormal creature now is just plain and simple its just becoming the term "it is what it is".

"So it sounds like we could have ghost possession?" I said. "I think Y/n's right because we did have a case similar to this before" Dean added. Sam closed his laptop and looked at Dean. "Well then let's go check it out" Sam said.

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We finally make it to Louisiana and arrive at a motel for the night. "I'm gonna go get a drink I'll see you guys in the morning" Dean said. I rolled my eyes and got out of the impala and made my way towards the motel door of our room. "Always Dean leaving at the worst moments" I thought.

Sam's pov:

"I'm gonna go get a drink I'll see you guys in the morning" Dean said. After Dean said that Y/n gets out of the car and she seems angry. Also including the fact that she didn't grab her bag. "Hey uh do you think Y/n is acting strange" Dean asked.

I looked at Dean and back to the motel door. "Yeah I do I mean she's been acting strange for a couple of weeks" I answered. I was worried about her she just seemed numb as if she couldn't feel anything of a happy thought.

"Well just make sure to keep an eye on her while I'm gone. Maybe talk to her I don't know Sammy. We don't need to lose anyone else" Dean said. I nodded my head and got out of the impala and went to the trunk. "I just hope she's gonna be ok" I thought.

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Y/n's pov:

I enter the motel room and it wasn't as bad as some we have stayed in before. It was different because it was more "Country Life" themed. There was even a cow picture on the wall.

"Never thought I would seen a more beautiful room" I thought. This room sorta gave me peace for now which is more peace that I've felt in awhile. Sure it doesn't fully help me feel better but it's still comforting.

As I go into the motel bathroom Sam entered. "Y/n I'm gonna put your bag on one of the beds" Sam said. I peek out of the bathroom and looked to see Sam's back facing me. "Thanks Sam" I said.

Sam turned around and seen me for a second before I went back into the bathroom. He seemed concerned but I couldn't worry about the way he feels right now.

I close the bathroom door and I look at myself in the mirror. There was bags under my eyes and it looks like I haven't slept in days. I mean technically I haven't wanted to eat anything or sleep. Haven't even really eaten a proper meal in five days.

"Why would Sammy want me as his girlfriend?" I thought. I've done things and I just feel that eventually both Dean and Sam won't want me around anymore. I keep having dreams of everyone even Castiel saying that "I'm horrible", "I need to die", etc.

As I get out of my trace of thoughts I look down to wash my face. As I look up again Lucifer was beside me. I then froze and couldn't move from where I was. "Hi Y/n" Lucifer said with a grin on his face.

"Why are you here why now why are you bothering me" I asked. Lucifer just smiles at me then walks towards me. "I'm just here to talk to you I mean technically I'm your only friend at this moment isn't that right" Lucifer said.

I look away and then look down at my hands. "No your not real get out of my head" I said. Lucifer laughs as if I was joking. "No what I think you need to do Y/n is give in to how you feel. Sam and Dean are tired of protecting you. There tired of you being a pathetic waste of a hunter" Lucifer said.

I shook my head and I covered my ears to ignore what he was telling me. "Leave me alone just leave me alone" I mumbled. "As you wish Y/n I'll leave you be for now at least" Lucifer said then dissappered.

I look around to see Lucifer was gone but I still had this weird feeling. I open the bathroom door to go and grab an outfit and some of my toiletries. As I walk back I noticed Sam wasn't in the motel room.

Then I seen a note on the table beside his laptop. "Y/n I went to go a get us something to eat I'll be back soon -Sam". Well that's good because it gives me time to be alone. I enter the bathroom and turn on the shower.

I grab my phone and start to play "Behind Blue Eyes". This should ease off on how I'm feeling for a bit and it's also a good song to.

No one knows what it's like to be the bad man...

I just wanted to feel peace and not feel empty. I just wanted to feel happy again with Sam and Dean. But lately I've just felt this way because of everything with Crowely, Castiel, etc.

To be the sad man behind blue eyes...

I just want to be normal again and not broken. I'm tired of feeling like everything is my fault. Castiel losing his grace, Crowley trying to kill Sam and Dean, Lucifer tormenting Sam.

And no one knows what its like to be hated...

I just don't want to wake up one day and be told that everyone hates me. That I don't deserve to be happy with the people I love the most.

To be fated to telling only lies...

But what if this is all a lie? I keep secrets away from Sam and Dean so they won't worry about me. Especially about Lucifer speaking to me and tormenting me.

But my dreams, they aren't as empty...

I just want to feel better and the only way is to do the thing that isn't ok. I open my makeup bag and pull out my raiser. I take the blade and hold it In my hand.

I then roll up my sleeve and cut. I don't know how many times I did but it just kept going....

As my conscience seems to be...

All I see is blood and I then stop what I'm doing. There is now 28 new cuts on my arm. And I felt horrible and at peace in a non-normal comforting way.

I strip out of my clothing and then step inside the shower to clean off all the dirt and nature off my body. I haven't showered in days and I finally have the chance to do now.

I have hours, only lonely...

I felt alone and I just couldnt get that off my mind. I love Sam and Dean and I care about them. I just can't let then see me like this.

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Sam's pov:

As Y/n went to the bathroom I decided to go and get us something to eat. I can tell she hasn't been herself lately and when I would try and talk to her about it she would push me away.

I can't force her to talk because I don't wanna make her feel forced to do anything. I just don't want her to hurt.

I left a note on the table to let her know where I was going so she wouldn't worry or anything. I just don't want her to ever think that I'm gonna leave her.

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Y/ns pov:

After 20 minutes I finally got done taking a shower and I put my new pair of clothes on. Which was a brown Tennesse long sleeved pajama shirt and a pair of Sam's boxers.

I remember the first time I took these boxers and weared them in front of Sammy. He was happy and thought it was cute so he let me keep them.

It brought me a comforting feeling and it made me forget what I did earlier to my arm. I just don't want Sam to notice what I've done. And I don't feel like getting yelled at by both Dean and Sam for this.

I noticed that my phone turned off and it stopped the song that was playing. I clicked the play button and it continues where it left off.

My love is vengeance that's never free...

No one knows what it's like to feel these feelings...

Like I do, and I blame you...

No one bites back as hard on their anger...

I grab my hairbrush and start brushing my hair while the song continues to play. It was almost over anyway so why not listen to it.

None of my pain and woe can show through...

But my dreams, they arent as empty...

Then suddenly the motel door opens and I heard a plastic bag rustle. "Sams back" I thought. I finally get done brushing my hair and I turn off the song.

I make sure I look ok and I walk out of the bathroom. "Hey Sammy" I said. Sam looks up and smiles at me. "Hey beautiful I just got back and I got us Chinese food" Sam said holding up the bags of food.

I gave him a big smile and I walk over to him. When I get in front of Sam I rest my head against his chest and wrap my arms around his waist.

"Hey what's this for" Sam said. I moved my face more into his chest and I held on for dear life. Eventually Sam puts the food down and hugs me back. "Hey sweetheart whats wrong" Sam asked. I then just broke down.

I started crying and I couldn't stop the tears from falling. "I'm broken.. and I don't want to be sammy" I mumbled. Sam then picked me up and held me in his arms. I wrapped my legs around him and just held onto him.

"Y/n talk to me sweetheart please I need you to tell me what's wrong" Sam pleaded. I pull away and look at Sam. "I've just been feeling not myself lately... I wanna tell you everything but I don't want you to leave me Sam" I said.

Sam looked at me and paused. He looked as if I was crazy and joking. "Y/n I'm never gonna leave you I love you to much and I would never do that to you" Sam said.

"I love you to Sammy"

#Spotify #love #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester x reader #crowley #lucifer #depression #sad #comfort #lonely thoughts #castiel #sam winchester #music

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dreamypqulson · 2 years

Text

— sometimes it’ll hurt

requested by anons: can you write about Cordelia and Misty being reader's parents and reader is having a hard time mentally. Maybe some angst/hurt then fluff and comfort. + Can I just make a request of anything with Mama Delia Mama Misty !! It can literally be anything!

pairing: cordelia goode x misty day x daughter!reader

warning: self harm, depression, anxiety

word count: 2500

There were times were you were happy. And then there were times were you weren’t. There were times where it felt like there was not enough room for you on the earth. You hoped it would be a continuous cycle, so you could feel that happiness again, even if everything else is numb. It doesn’t feel like it though. Not at five in the evening. Not when you can hear the girls chatter downstairs, gathering for dinner. Not when you're laying in bed with a irritated face from crying. It feels like you’re stuck in this obis of darkness.

You could predict how this night would end. Everyone would finish dinner with laughter and chatter, and go out to parties on this Friday night. You would lay in your bed. That numb feeling after sobbing for hours consuming you. It didn't effect anyone if you weren't here. So why stay with the pain? What was it worth?

However, the night took a turn when you heard a knock on your bedroom door. Three knocks meant it was your mother. She always knocked three times in a specific pattern.

You didn't feel like answering. You didn't have enough energy to. And you didn't want your mother to see you like this. You didn't know what you what anymore.

"It's mom. Can I come in, baby?"

You didn't speak at all. With all your strength gathered, you hummed your permission. You're not entirely sure that she heard you. You could hardly hear yourself. The door slowly opened anyways.

She walked into your dim room, blinds shut but the white furniture and walls made the room glow even in the dark.

"Dinners ready, sunshine. Are you coming down?” Your mother asked. Her footsteps got closer, and soon enough she was sitting on your bed. You could not see her with your back to her. You haven't seen her the entire day, and you longed to just see her motherly eyes to ground you.

You didn't dare move. You felt stuck in every way imaginable.

“No, i'm tired. I just want to sleep if that's alright." Your gravely voice pierced through your eyes. You didn't sound like yourself. You didn't know who you were anymore.

"You've slept all day, I haven't even got to see your pretty face, my darling. Are you feeling well? Mama told me she asked if you wanted to go to her swamp today, and you turned her down. That's not like you."

You squeezed your eyes shut tight at her bombard of questions. You couldn't handle this right now. You weren't really tired, but now you are. Now you want to sleep and never wake up.

"I'm fine!," You snapped, sucking in a deep breath. "I'm tired! I told you that. Can you just leave me alone? I want to be alone right now!"

Silence occupied the room. It was unsettling and you gave it all your effort to not hide under the covers like a child scared of a thunder storm. You hurt her, however, she didn't take it personally. She understands hardship. Cordelia understands what it's like to have so many negative emotions that can't even fit into your body, and to eventually burst.

"Sweetie," she took a deep breath. Your heart stopped. You took it too far, you knew so. "My sweet girl, i'm here for you. Please just talk to me. I don't want you to hurt any longer."

You could hear the pain in her voice. Bad, bad, bad, you thought. Upsetting mom. You only ever upset people. It's what you're best at. Everyone would be happier without you.

"Mom," you whined voice cracking right with Cordelia's heart. "I'm okay. Don't worry about me."

"I'm going to worry about you." She turned your body to face her. A single tear had slid down her face, but it was nothing compared to your puddle of tears. She moved away your hair that was sticking to your tears. Delicate, like you would shatter with a single touch. "You're my baby. I'm going to worry about you. Me and Mama are always worrying no matter what."

You cause your mothers stress. You cause them fear and sadness.

"I don't- I don't want to talk right now. I'm so exhausted mom." You sounded so small, muffled into Cordelia's lap. You wish you were again, back before you disappointed your mothers. When the only hurt was not getting the toy you desired.

"Okay, okay. We don't have to talk about anything until you're ready. I'm right here for you, whenever you need me, sweet girl."

You cuddled closer into your mothers side, her arms welcoming you closer. She sat there with her hands stroking through your hair, the calming way you like it.

Over your desperate cries to feel better again, you hardly heard the door crack open again. You only felt Cordelia's head turn to the side. You didn't feel like moving, didn't have the energy to move, so you waited for a voice.

"Darlin's?" A southern drawl echos against the four walls. Soft, and light, it almost seems as though you dreamed it. "Oh no, what's wrong?"

You supposed that Cordelia had mouthed something to Misty, because it was an uneasy silence before she sat beside you both. Out of your blurry vision, you could only see blonde curls and pale skin.

"M here. Mama's here, angel." You could feel cold rings through your shirt, rubbing against your back. So much love, and for what? You didn't deserve it.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," you began to ramble, you breath growing shorter with each repetition. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

You wanted to talk, you truly did, but you didn't know what to say. Anyone on the outside would agree that you have the perfect life. Perfect parents, perfect house, perfect support system. And you do. But everything hurt, everything hurt so badly.

"Nothings wrong with ya, precious. I promise ya."

"No mama. Everything is. Everything hurts. It hurts so bad, and I don't know why. I can't make its stop. Please make it stop." You sobs got harder, louder, and you gripped on tighter to Cordelia's blouse. It was damp from your tears and you felt the need to apologize for that too. However, your mother beat you to speaking.

"Baby..." Cordelia had sounded so heart broken. You knew she was beating herself up, blaming herself for your pain. It's how she is. "I wish I could make it better, but you have to let us in. Tell us what hurts."

"Just life and existing. It's so hard. I can't do it anymore. I'm so tired of feeling like this. So ugly, and lonely, and stupid." A wrinkled formed between Cordelia's eyebrows at your words, and Misty pursed her lips in concern.

"You're not. Ugly, and lonely, and stupid. You're not. You're our beautiful girl, ever since you were born. And ya have the both of us, and all the girls. We all love ya very much." You looked down, shame spread on your cheeks in a deep red hue. Stop being like this. You have no reason to be sad all of the time. "Ya one of the strongest witches too, sunshine."

When Misty finished, you crinkled your face up. You haven't used your powers in days. You never use it. You would never be as strong as your mothers. You couldn't bring people back to life, and you would never be able to complete the seven wonders.

"Then why does it feel like I am those things?"

Cordelia resonated, "because we have to live with ourselves all the time. We have to see and live through all the bad things, and that hurts more than how the good things feel good. It sticks with us. It's easier to accept that you're these negative thought about yourself, than it is the easier ones."

A deep exhale of air elicited from your lips. You pulled your sleeves down further, fisting the cotton in your hands when it slightly risen. Cordelia and Misty both understood what it was like to feel so much pain at such an early age, but never this way.

"Sweetheart..." Cordelia noticed, Misty too, the way that you protected your arms once the conversation grew deeper.

"No! No! I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." You felt like you should apologize for you're existence too. "I'm sorry. Please." You gripped at your hair, tugging the strands, knotted from sleep.

"Shhh. Calm down." Cordelia guided your hands away from your hair and wrapped hers around them. Warm and soft, it felt like the feeling of hot chocolate settling in your stomach after playing in the snow as a child. "We aren't here to hurt you, baby. We're not you're enemies. We want to help."

Misty's own fingers started to delicately work through your knots. You felt too weak. You were going to fall asleep. You could feel it. But then your mother started talking again, and everything; your defense, and hurt, and fear, awakened in you. Awakened you.

"Can I see, pretty? I won't judge you. Mama won't either. We just want to make it better. Promise." You weren't afraid of the judgement. Maybe a little bit, but not from your mothers. You trusted that they wouldn't judge. They had never been those type of people. You were, however, terrified to see the look of pain on both of your mothers faces again. The look from the first time that they saw you had hurt the beautiful person that they created together.

"No. Please. Mommy please. I don't mean to upset either of you. I don't want to. Tell her, mama. Please tell her it's okay," you begged, and begged, and even pulled out the 'mommy' trick that had always worked. Though, you looked at your mother in her crystal blue eyes, and she held the same expression that Cordelia did.

"You're not upsetting us, baby. It's okay. We can handle it. We're just saddened that you're hurting, and that's not ya fault at all," Misty said. She seemed stronger than you're other mother, but she looked on the verge of tears as well.

You finally released your arms from your protective wall. There was no fighting something they already won.

Cordelia, gently, slid up your sleeve on one of your arms. Cuts, old and new scattered there and you wanted to pull back but there was an invisible chain keeping you in place. Cordelia, however, could feel the muscles in your arms tense under her fingers.

You watched a lump in a her throat as she swallowed hard. Disappointment. "Baby, it's okay. Okay? We're gonna get through this." Her voice cracked and she, slowly, brought your arm up to her face. Her lips pressed against your scars and cuts in the most softest, lightest kiss; you wouldn't have even know she did it if you didn't feel the love course through your blood.

An aggressive sob bursted out from your lips and Cordelia immediately gathered you back up in an embrace again. Misty grabbed your arm, and her fingers gently brushed over the raised skin, drawing stars around your scars. "I'm so weak. I'm sorry. It's so ugly."

"You're not weak and it's not ugly. It's okay to feel down sometimes. Ya mother's the strongest, most power witch and woman on this planet, and she still feels sad sometimes. Being sad doesn't make ya weak, darlin, it's just a normal feeling that everyone goes through in their life," Misty says. Maybe you're not weak. But your legs are. Your arms arm. Your entire body is from laying in bed crying so long. That is what's weak, that it was makes you feel as if these emotions make you weak.

Cordelia sadly smiled down at you and began, "come to us, baby. No matter what time or day it is. No matter what we're doing. Let us take away the hurt. You've hurt too much already."

"Okay," you sniffled, fingers tracing the patterns on Cordelia's blouse to distract yourself. "Thank you mom's. I love you's."

"I love ya too, precious." The hug got tighter with Misty's arms wrapped around you.

"I love you too, sweet girl." You all stayed like that for only a little bit longer and then coldness corrupted you again. Your heart sank with the feeling of anxiety that's been bubbling in your chest for a few days, for no good reason. "Let's go clean your arms up, pretty."

You nodded, slowly, hesitantly. You still hadn't got used to them seeing your arms. You don’t think you ever will. Even if it is the second time, you still felt shame. You still felt bad for them over your own hurt.

Misty left the room to gather some of her healing mud from the swamp, and Cordelia took your hand to the bathroom. She helped you slid up onto the counter, and wet a rag to clean the dry blood on your skin.

She looked at you and smiled, waiting for your consent to look at it and touch it. You nodded, and she rolled up your fallen sleeve again. Only one arm at a time so she wouldn't overwhelm you.

"What do you say, me and mama take you out for ice cream tonight?" She trying to cheer you up. You're helpless. "Just the three of us?"

You could hardly feel the rag brush against your bloody skin. It wouldn't hurt as much as the pain you endured and inflicted on yourself, you knew that. She was gentle anyways. She always has been. Brushing your hair as a child, caring for cuts and scrapes when you fell at the park. Now she was cleaning cuts that you purposely did to yourself. It was a full circle.

"Yeah. I would like that. I think mama will too." You both laughed, your mama's sweet tooth was huge.

After a few moments later, Misty came back with the greenish-brown jar of mud. You never did like using that, but it help tremendously with healing, and right now, you wish you could apply it to your heart and mind too.

Misty carefully applied the paste to your arm, and you sat there with your arms out, waiting for this to be all over. You bit your lip, nearly drawing blood. And your feet, dangling from the counter, shook vigorously from side to side.

“It’s okay,” Misty muttered. Her warm hand was on your cold leg and her rings worn across all of her fingers grounded you. “Just take a deep breath, sweet pea. In and out. We’re right here for ya.”

“We’ll always be here for you, pretty. I want you to remember that, okay? Promise you’ll come to us next time?” Cordelia asked, titling her head to look straight into your eyes. Trying to convey her seriousness.

“Okay. I promise.”

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opalimagines · 3 months

Text

Pat pays you a visit when the death of your partner and your team leaves you in a bad place

(Originally for Whumptober day 12 (Red/Insomnia) and 26 (Working To Exhaustion))

Character: Pat Dugan/Stripesy

Reader: Neutral (Platonic. It's romantic with Sylvester but he's not in it because he's dead and all lol)

Warnings: reckless/suicidal behavior, depression

Your bloodied knuckles throbbed as you watched the police car drive away, the thieves you'd caught cuffed in the back seat.

Walking back to your bike, the night air felt quite nice. Just like the ache in your hands and in your muscles, because at least you were feeling something besides empty and numb.

Parked next to you was a familiar red and white Buick, with an equally familiar man leaning against the hood, his arms crossed over his chest.

"I see you got her fixed up," you said, not looking at him as you took out your keys.

"Finished about a month ago." Pat paused a moment when you got to the bike. "We haven't seen you in a while."

You looked over and saw Mike sitting in the passenger seat, his face lit up by the Nintendo Pat had gotten him for Christmas. You and Sylvester bought him some games for it before–

"I've been busy," you said interrupting your own thought.

"I noticed. It's all over the news."

You sat on the bike and hit the kick stand. "Is it?"

Not a day had gone by without Pat seeing your alter ego in news reports. It seemed you were out all day and all night, putting away every criminal you could catch. Part of him was surprised that the ISA hadn't noticed this and come to finish you off, but why would they waste their time when you were clearly determined to do the job for them? "When was the last time you slept? Or had a decent meal?"

Your eyes were bloodshot, and he was sure he'd find dark circles underneath them if you hadn't been wearing your mask. Aside from that, you were looking gaunt and weak. He'd never seen you like that before. You didn't want to tell him that you still couldn't stand sleeping in that big bed without Sylvester, or that you didn't eat much because everything tasted like glue.

"I don't remember." Starting the bike, you finally made eye contact. "Are we done now?"

"Look, I'm worried about you. You're the only friend I've got left." There was Rex Tyler too, but Pat hadn't heard from him in a while. He wasn't even sure if he was still alive or not. "Please just come over for dinner."

Glancing between him and Mike, you sighed and revved up the engine. "I'll think about it."

As Pat watched you ride down the street, he noticed your lack of a helmet and became even more concerned.

With Mike finally put to bed, Pat sat on his couch and waited. He hoped you would show at some point, but he wasn't too confident. You were in a bad place, he knew that. Hell, if he didn't have his son, he'd probably be in about the same shape. But you weren't going to last much longer at this rate.

Just when Pat thought about giving up and heading to bed, he heard a knock at the door, giving him the hope that maybe he wouldn't lose another friend.

#pat dugan imagine #pat dugan x reader #sylvester pemberton imagine #sylvester pemberton x reader #dc comics imagine #dc imagine #dc x reader #stargirl x reader #stargirl imagine #my fics**

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hermioneismyrealname · 1 year

Text

Tomorrow (20221215) I have day one of my finals. It's maths.

Mood? Sleepy. Haven't slept in 2 days.

Reason? The last 6 hours I got, I woke up from a dream clawing at my arm and neck because I thought I was 8 again and what happened to me was happening again. SO SLEEP CAN GO FUCK ITSELF!

But after 11 am tomorrow, I will chugg 750ml of black coffee and sleep for 12 hours and start the marathon for biology (20221219), physics (20221221) and chemistry (20221222). Coffee stops me from dreaming.

Preparation? Maths can go to hell.

I've studied and I'm gonna study some more but once the paper is in front of me, the war begins against my brain as I try and pry the knowledge out from the anxiety filled trenches of my frontal lobe.

My body? My chest hurts like fuck.

I keep forgetting to breathe while I'm studying I don't know why. Also doesnt help that my glasses broke and I can't see shit so I'm hunched over my desk like a prawn and have my legs folded cause I'm gay af and can't sit on a chair straight by law.

Emotions? Currently numb.

I know this is going to change when I sit down in the exam hall. I'm just mentally drained. My sources of dopamine that I allow myself is this hellsite (affectionate), some one-shot fluff fics, writing drabbles and learning languages.

My goal? Do my best.

Imma be honest. I feel OK about what I know and I know I can do it, it's just my brain being an ass about it. That sack of flesh tells me to break my ankles for the heck of it, why should I listen to it?

Outcome? To feel proud enough so I don't feel guilty.

I feel guilty a lot. Survivors guilt and mommy issues. I overwork to overachive. I lay down on my bed and feel guilty i havent done enough when i just finished a 6 hour study session. Do more, my brain yells at me. So if I can come out of this like I did what I could, feeling less guilty, I'll be happy.

What do I want to do for the holidays?

Exam first and then think about holidays. But

I want to watch

Between Us (2022) ep 6 and 7

My 12 percent

Not me

Romantic Killer

Blood C

I spit on your grave

Goblin

Maybe rewatch Banana Fish

Space balls

I want to write

My drabbles

That Vegaspete fanfic I've been planning for a while now

That Sapphic story skeleton (idea struck me and I want to post it to *gags**barf**spits* wattpad

Begin copywriting because I'm a broke college student

I want to read

A curse so Dark and Lonely

And like the cycle of the year, we begin again (because it's my Christmas tradition)

Art of war

Maybe the wicked king, idk

I want to play

Minecraft

Potion craft: alchemy simulator

I want to learn languages

Japanese

Thai

Russian

Korean

Welsh

Latin

I want to random research

Anything

And then fritz case

I want to sleep.

I want to practice my forms in self defense. (Im probably shit by now)

I want to go rock climbing.

I want to go for a walk.

I want to talk to my friends and my crush that I've been ignoring for my exams, but like face to face, and give them a big ol hug even though I give really awkward hugs.

I want to eat broccoli and bread.

Didn't I mention sleep?

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pulling-my-threads · 30 days

Text

April 1st

7:08am

I love you, Reece. I miss you.

I'm happy with us, you, myself this morning. But I need to do better.

I'm going to try not to message you incessantly today. You have your pottery class from 12-2 your time. I'm convinced that you'll go to Lizs tonight, maybe sleep over too. You'll be in a good mood and want to share that with her. So how do I prepare for that. I'll anxiously be waiting for you to tell me that all day. I'll be okay with it, until you confirm it. I stupidly said maybe you can do dinner with her this week since you haven't seen her in a week. You said, yeah that's a good idea.

Why do I do that. Why can't I just keep my mouth shut.

But I'll be busy tonight, I can never talk with you anyway. So why can't you have the company of her. Why does it bother me. It's okay to bother me, that's the most normal thing about this mess. We're not supposed to be okay with wanting other people.

But you STILL want me. You would still prefer me.

We'll have our chance.

I need to be better about distancing myself so you can stay happy.

8:51am

I know you're awake. I'm getting antsy. I just want to be apart of everything. I can picture you laying there playing on your phone, trying to wake yourself, you wouldn't really have anything to say, but I want to hear from you. It's ridiculous. Some days are just like that with me.

I'm going to try to wait to message you until you reach out to me today. How will that affect you? Will you talk more to Liz because you don't have to respond to me. Will you notice? Will you look for me? Ask me how I'm doing?

You'll ask her how she is, how she slept, she's been sick. You don't ask me, I'm never sick.

You're probably nervous and distracted about looking your best, feeling your best to meet new people. I'm so proud of you for doing this and I can't wait to hear about it.

9:25am

It only took you a half hour to reach out to me to tell me you miss me. And let me know you have an appt with Sherri too, just before your class. I appreciate this because I like to know everything and because I'll know that you'll be busy. Reminding me to patiently wait for you and not internalize it as rejection. Today will feel like a busy day for you even though it's supposed to be a day off. You might actually need to go to Liz's house later to numb out and let someone cook for you and dictate what to watch and when bedtime will be. I need to understand this about you. I'm realizing that i need this too so it makes sense that you would too. Maybe you don't even realize that this is happening. If I were there, we could learn together. I would take care of you.

9:46am

Barely 40 minutes have passed.i know you're busy and you messaged me to tell me you love me. And talk about your hot farts (ham and deviled eggs)

The familiarity, the intimacy, the comfort in this... I know that only I can provide this to you.

Why do I ever doubt how you feel about me. I'm Ridiculous. We're perfect for each other. You wouldn't throw this away.

I won't either.

10:22am

I've read this through to remind myself that my emotions cycle. But you are always there to catch me when possible and to remind myself that I can move through my emotions on my own. It happens naturally, if I stay out of my head.

These writings have been good for me. This is a gift. I'm not sure if I want you to see how needy and scattered I am. Its humiliating. I hate feeling vulnerable. But you are the only person I trust with this spirit of mine.

I love you, Reece. You were made for me.

10:30am

After exiting Tumblr, you called, further validating my claim that you care for me when you can. The way you love me and the way God provides you when I need you never ceases to amaze me. I can't wait to hear your voice, your voicemail.

10:48am

You messaged me and I asked if I could call but then I realized you were probably talking to Liz. You mentioned you were on and off with her quickly and that I could call. You called and left vm first though. I felt bad unnecessarily. You sounded happy to hear from me and not irritated that I took time away from you and Liz (like I had assumed). The biggest thing in learning through this is: I matter to you. It really Doesn't matter how your attention is divided. Your heart will always "answer" when mine "calls".

1:37pm

You're on the phone with Liz. Earlier you said you called her real quick because she texted you this morning and you forgot to respond. And just now you said to me, I forgot I told Liz that I'd call her after my class so I'm going to call her on my way home.

My brain reads too deeply. Are these instances of memory lapses? You forgot? My brain tells me that we prioritize and rarely forget things that are important. Am I wrong. It helps me feels that she's not as important to you as I believe she is. (As you keep reminding me) you would never forget to call me or message me. There have been times with Nicole when you're anxiety didn't allow you to put me first, you had to be battle ready. In the past you would forget to check vm that i left, but you haven't done anything like that with Liz. If it's a memory thing, I will happily help, I never want you to look "bad". I'm just realizing that I interpret things all wrong. Maybe I know nothing. What I do know is- regardless of your memory lapses- I have never felt like more of a priority when you have been in a relationship than I do now, with Liz. I'm learning to love deeply and trust that I can want what's best for you without you taking advantage of that. You won't use that as an excuse to hurt me. I feel you loving me. You said you were going to hang out with your dad later, so my heart feels like I can loosen up about waiting to hear that you're going to Lizs tonight. I want to ask so bad. But I need to see that you're doing what you want and not what you think I need. I can't be a basket case anymore. I'm woven too tightly.

I would like to point out that, going to your dad's is an excellent way numb out and have your dinner choices made, tv choices made and to stay until you're ready to go home to unwind before bed. So I feel like I might know your needs more than I give myself credit for. (Obviously I'd prefer your dads time over another womans time. )

I love you Reece. Thank you for loving me.

2:16 pm

I'm failing at not messaging you. That two hour class time was too long. I'm beginning to believe I'm actually addicted to the Relief I feel when I hear from you. That can't be good. The jokes about withdrawing from you, might be real now. I'm all seriousness, I'm not sure how to fix that.

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magbld · 4 months

Text

#6 Entry

You saw my Tumblr. I think I feel wrong a bit for showing it to you honestly. I felt that I may have robbed you from healing a bit and I'm sorry for that. I hope you're doing well and felt like this was a good closure for you! I hope you ate well today and slept really good and are excited for the next semester and all the things you'll do in your future! I thought about you all day in all sorts of context; I guess it just feels weird that those are just memories now? It's upsetting to think I wont be close with you anymore like how we were -- but it's for the best for you. I'm sorry I often didn't speak much about how I feel or anything like that! It was a something I've always had trouble with. I find writing a lot more easier to express with. Today, I haven't done much LOL! I woke up really sore. The moment I got home from skiing I had a bit of food and just layed down the whole day. Going in and out of consciousness and what not. My lower back aches (you'd always say that to me) and my thighs are on fire. I woke up today pretty frustrated honestly. I'm still trying to cope and grieve with everything and especially since yesterday I think it just become more overwhelming for me. I'm glad to have read a bit of your Tumblr posts. I was honestly glad you still thought of me and missed me. It's funny how weird we really are? trapped to doing the more smart decision and better decision for ourselves HAHA! I have an appointment tomorrow to get a tooth gem. I hope they saw I have good teeth and ask me to model for their instagram for a reduced price (PLEASE!!!) so silly. I hope it goes well, we almost got tooth gems aswell. Sorry we never made it to it. I played the guitar for a bit and I feel like I'm getting a lot better! My chords feel a lot more stronger and vibrant and not as buzzy and lazy as before. I'm glad. My finger tips feel numb now though. I feel more flexible in my fingers and feel better mind and muscle coordination with my fingertips aswell. I then read a few pages of the love book and it talks about learning how to be comfortable being alone (not lonely). I think I'll practice one of the things they did. The first step is called "Solo Audit" where you record things you do along and if you're comfortable doing it or not. and why? it's something you dot out throughout the week. I wrote down a few things I did in the past few days alone and the things I've done today. I also read a bit of the poetry book. At some times I feel like it's kind of corny but every here and there there is a good little poem. And I can't wait to read other poetry books now. I went to our old spot and it was really cold LOL. The snow was quite going and I don't think I dressed appropriately. I had on my black hoodie with my turtle neck underneath wrapped into my leather jacket wearing my earmuffs and gloves. on the bottoms I had on my black trousers with my wool socks and the boots I've been wearing recently. I wiped off the log honestly just to check if you'd wrote anything or if my message was still there. It's crazy that there was a coyote 25 feet away from me. We locked eyes. It ran! ran fast LOL. I realized I should go and nervously walked home hoping that I wasn't a target. I just kept looking behind me and walked on the populated roads for safety. I ate some spaghetti and played the guitar some more. I'm watching the bear right now and it's good! Tina finally changed up from being a bitch. Fuck TINA!!! till now at least HA.

You've been on my mind all day everyday-- I guess you've always had even before LOL! but in a different context. I hope you're doing well. I don't have much to talk about today because I didn't have much that was new. Maybe I'll make shakshouka sometime soon or a tinned fish pasta. Maybe make some greek desserts I saw on instagram recently. I can't wait to get tooth gems. I miss you. I hope one day we'll see each other again. And felt how we did before. I won't ever ask you. I can't rob you of that. I still feel like I need to keep a distance so I don't interfere. But god it hurts so bad. I'll miss our connection a lot. See you.

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pragmatic-illusions · 5 months

Text

Why did I drop out...

I went to university back in 2017 realized I could not afford it. I dropped out before the deadline.

on 2022. I visited my cousin, they lived in a university town. I got my little coffee, took a train, I was reading a book in the campus book store, it felt like I was larping a college student and we met up later and ran errands together just for the reason to be with them.

I kept thinking maybe I should I go back to college.

2023

I caught covid the first week of the new year, bed ridden for 20 days.

I been unemployed for almost a year. I kept thinking about death, seeing my peers live their lives on their stories every weekend, I'm just sitting in my bedroom feeling alone and broke.

I went to a spring open house. They gave away a free waived application fee but there was deadline for it to be used. It was 25 dollars application fee. Me spending 25 meant I was gonna have to actually really commit to my descion.

SUMMER 2023

I tried looking for a job during the summer, I wasn't consistent enough. I went in person, job fairs,

I went to my states labor department of social services to get a job or get some kind of training, but i was hung up what career was good for me. I was broke that i couldn't have enough money for a bus ticket. I tried applying for unemployment but I didn't qualify. its demoralizing seeing everyone living life while your just at home being broke and alone.

I got a safety certification for a fork lift but no exp. with it. I stepped outside by a local bank under a tree where i saw dead bird, i kept thinking about the likely hood of dying at the job. That I was just chasing after the money.

While i was getting my transcripts, i asked my school for all possible records they had on file on me. I then i had access my IEP.

it was 600 pages of length. it followed me through out me through grade school and up until high school. It basically said i was neuro divergent, ADHD, autism, ODD. I had therapy, i had a lot of anger and adjustment issues, I ran out class rooms and I refused to speak.

Due to my mother not knowing English, and I had to speak and translate on her behalf. All i was told during parent-student conference was sign this, get a report on my behavior and how well i was doing with grades.

i was not given any medication, I was in therapy but was extremely anti social, I just bottled all my feelings in. I was pretty much raw dogging reality. Nobody outright told me I had ADHD.

SUPER MOON 2023

I took a train to the beach, to see the super moon, I kept thinking, i haven't lived enough... I never tried enough. i feel behind among my peers, I didn't do dumb risks of my early 20's, traveling, starting business, moving out. join a band, releationships, being coopted up in alienating white suburbia sprawl that's devoid of everything. I didn't had friends. my gap year became 5 years, nothing came out of it. I feel behind among my peers. I sat at the bar next to a women who a psycdelic painted denim jacket, "i felt i wasn't free, Now I'm just insecure, and aimless and numb. I

should just roam the earth, and bar tend or something, up my social skills, make connections, just live life, be a vagabond.

I wanted to sleep at the beach, it felt impulsive, but i looked back on my goals and this was something i wanted to for awhile. So i subconiouslly remembered it

I was pulled by desire and fear. where am I gonna sleep, what if the cops arrest me for camping here. I slept under the board walk, it was uncomfortable to say the least, if were to do it again a cardboard box and a tarp would have helped. I kept thinking how many people go to sleep homeless, how we take it for granted, how animals really out here suffer in the elements.

I was taking a risk, but it was mis-channeled calculated risk.

I also lost my phone where I slept and had to race to go back the same day.

i remember seeing my old coworker who was like a 2nd mom to me. She noticed how i carried such a different air about myself, after that beach day. I was more confident and at the same time i had felt like i had a somewhat purpose now before i entered college. That i was laguid in personality.

late summer, i came across existenalist philophers soren kirkgard concept of anxiety, how the feeling i had of wanting something but too afraid to pursue it was put into words.

I was at my town festivals, i felt like how a charcer feels when the screen starts to pan out and feeling isolated alone,

That if i don't do more of those risks that align with me i won't be confident.

I need more pre-dad lore.

If i don't take the risk or try stuff or go through the strife i will never know what i like or don't like, i won't know what my values are. If i don't know that i will just agonizie what is the right descion.

FALL 2023

I went to a community college, I had no money, or car.

I found a job at a conceirge but i wasn't allowed to work at that locaion any more because they didn't like the way i "looked"

they said wear dress pants, shirt and shoes, and i did, but it wasn't what they were looking for.

I got a scholarship during an interview. i failed the first one.

I ended up opting for all online classes except intro to art. I was fourntate enough that a class mate of mine lived in the same town so we could commute back and fourth.

My college had a community hub program that gave out pantry foods and free bus voucher tickets up until the time students get a refund check from.

I haven't been in class room since high school, even then I had in class support, modified tests, and encouragement. But not online.

Online classes: I'm literally alone in my room, with no one but myself and my own responblity. I tried doing a group chat with people in my class rooms but the interactions are so bare. How am I suppose to make friends this way or even network.

The students are not even at my age group. I can't relate to them

I just feel even more isolated. I'm just reminded how I stayed back twice and being few years older then my high school peers. Now its even more exaggerated.

If i were to start over, I would have asked for the course work to be given to me early, ask for extended deadlines. I didn't realize there was homework help at my library.

My parents didn't kick me out, they were supportive of me, I didn't had a car. Both campuses were at least accessible via public transportation. But getting to the main campus took an 1 hour and 30 mins via a bus and train. If the train or bus had a delay i would miss the bus and wait an extra 1:30. I missed two clubs meeting because of it. i didn't had job, i had no bills, i was on food, internet, and cell phone social services as in i didn't pay anything.

I stayed in college longer then i needed to because it felt like i doing something with my life on paper but as time went on it kept thinking what i am doing here, i don't even know what to do for a college degree, I keep agonizing about how much money i am gonna make, to live within my comfortable means, work life balance, do i really want this. will AI take it over.

I should have just done trade or certificate but i had no money.

I don't think I care about money at this point, I just want personal growth, but if you wanna grow as person you need money to get around.

The supermoon event, I should have followed my intuition, or asked about course materials or join photography.

its either i didn't try hard enough or its not something that i value or alligns with me. statstically i'm gonna be poorer without a degree,

i was put in the psych ward because i emailed a professor in a way that the college sent pig escorts to my house.

I feel guilt, i had all the resources, in front of me. but i wasn't confident or unsure, i had too many worries and negativity. look where that leads me. Theres many people out there who are deserving of my place or wanted to so badly but just can't.

I'm apporaching in a few years.

no one is gonna save you and I'm pretty much responsible for my own life.

#college #united states #us #usa #politics #dropout #ROM #R.O.M #reflection of memories #journal #journal entry

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ramblingsofuncertainty · 11 months

Text

Old Entries

Ramblings

Sunday

3:15. The silence is nice. I can talk to Allah swt and I feel safe at this moment. The stillness of the night isn't stifling. I don't turn on the fan even though it's hot. I like the silence. My thoughts are quite too

7:10. I don't want to get up but I've already jumped off the bed. Need to get breakfast ready. Need to take medicine. Need to hurry hurry hurry.

9:15. Panic and dread.

11:50. Relief. Exhaustion.

2:42. I had this really intense need to be talking about it with Saadia. Can't call her cos she's probably sleeping. And this urge might become less and then I'll make excuses to myself to not call her. But I wish we were exhausted and lying in her room ranting. Or maybe not even that. Just being quiet. She'd be watching something stupid like NCIS or suits or something and I’d be squished in her giant beanbag (territory Id claimed long ago) I remember the neck ache I got when Id been squished in it too long. Her mom would poke her head in and shake her head at us and bring us pasta. Or chicken bread! Man, I miss that chicken bread. The squishy peices of corn that would pop in your mouth and the hot buttery peppery chicken.

She knows me inside out. I don't want to burden her right now. She can't do anything about it being so far away.

I'm happy, reminiscing while writing about her, and it hasn't made me sad, in a surprising turn of events. I think my circuitry is messed up. But happy accidental serotonin is still serotonin and I'm grateful.

Monday

Didn't write the whole day. Brain feels like a fog. No emotions. I just need sleep.

Tuesday

9.:40. Stopped to have a conversation with a squirrel. It seemed interested, but then decided it didn't have the time. Squirrel business called. And I was late for class

9:43. Needed to make a call and that was it for the day. Cue the mind haze. All the emotions all at once. And none at the same time.

Music to shut out the thoughts. Helped a bit.

P realized something was up. As much as I felt cheery and awake at the end of the day, but she knew something was off. I couldn't put a finger on it til she said it. Despite trying trying to distract myself, I still felt like there is a pulling, scratching inside. I'm craving something and I don't know what it is. Bit it's like a dull sort of scratch, like the echo of a thing

Thursday

4:57. Missed fajr. Feel like shit. Had nightmares, woke up feeling more exhausted than when I slept. I haven't been able to dream for like five or six years. But nightmares are becoming a thing now.

8.25. Tried to wake up but the day already feels exhausting and I don't want to deal with it

9:20. Fell asleep and woke up in a panic. There's so much that needs to be done. I have so much work. How can anything feel exciting when there is always anxiety and panic that's flooding my brain.

9:55. My joy in realizing they've made eggs for breakfast today is fleeting. The eggs are burnt at the edges and dry. I still eat them, my mouth feels like what I imagine it must feel like to wake up from surgery, desperate for water. I'm being ungrateful and I dont like it. It's food. Why am I being like this?

Cant feel much today.

4:50. Decided to take a nap. Woke up in a panic again because I thought I'd slept for three hours instead of one. Body hurts and I don't want to get up. I'll procrastinate more and then the day is over and I've done nothing.

8:05. Feeling good. Found myself humming something. Surprised enough to want to write it down. I feel like I can get something done. Making tea, then getting down to work. I feel like I'm in flow. Hope this stays!

P.S. it didn't stay. Something happened and all sense of time and work and sanity was gone. (Writing this on Thursday)

Friday

I broke the streak today. I didn't want to write down anything the whole day so now I'm writing it at the end of the day. I woke up with a numbness in my body. Had nightmares again. It's getting both more difficult and easier to get up. I can't explain it.

There's this short stretch of trees lining the football field that blooms with these hanging yellow flowers that always snaps me back to the present and gives a couple of seconds of relief everyday. Today it just made me annoyed (there aren't any blooms but the walk usually is still pleasant) because I realized the absence of that relief and that is what jolted me out of my thoughts. Not the relief but the lack of it.

Everything felt off today. It's exhausting living with myself.

I came back and slept. I just want to sleep. Forced myself to eat. I can't work. I can't work. I can't work. I'm trying. I have class at 6am. I don't want to be. There's too much noise. Writing all these things down is making everything more concrete. It's the fig tree again. From Sylvia Plaths Bell Jar. But the roots shriveled up and wilted and the trunk is hollow too. No possibilities lying blackened at my feet. They are a distant memory, haunting the air with a rotten smell.

(P.S. (writing this on Saturday: I feel disconnected reading what I wrote last night. I don't want to linger on it. That person was there. So was one who was not in that state. I feel like a conduit, in this moment, reading the previous entries, they feel like versions of me that exist and existed, a product of the things happening to me at the time)

Saturday

Today I felt disconnected, outside of my body. Woke up tired again but almost mechanically, went through the motions of getting up and getting through the day.

I'm relieved though. Beats yesterday in any case.

Saturday/Sunday:

(A summary): I did not open this up to write anything for the past two days because I was in a good place after a very long time. I passively tried to understand what triggered it but couldn't. Coming back to why I didn't write. Writing things down forces me to confront what's going on in my head and usually that untangles whatevers up there and when the thoughts become clear, they are usually not very pleasant. And so I wanted to live in denial for a little bit longer.

Sunday

9.09: Panic again. but dull. I have to work. There might be eggs.

11.06: Mediocrity scares me. I don't want to be a blob of nothingness. I have worlds inside of me, I have been so many me-s, they were all people with thoughts and emotions and intelligence. I feel like I have lost grip of so many of those versions of myself, and of the potential that they all had. Now everything I do feels like I am dragging myself through a thick sludge of effort, pushing pushing pushing. My head feels dull and more empty than it used to be.

The air feels thick. Dead, no crispness in it, just a lingering heat and smell of dead grass

Monday

4:40. Unraveling. The air is nice today, feels fresh and crisp. I can smell the freshly mowed grass of the football ground as a linger on my way back

5.:15. A summary of today: Flow state. I found myself quite unexpectedly in a state of flow, like everything was aligned and I was getting things done. Things seemed to be rolling off of me, I just kept working like nothing mattered and I actually felt happy with the work I made, and when I made something not so good, it didn't stop me. It felt like I side stepped a ditch that would have pulled me in, and I was just able to brush it off so easily and move on. I felt like a person. I felt complete. Like otherwise there's always echoes of me slightly lagging or moving ahead and I'm just trying to keep track of the pieces to move together and making the effort of carrying all the scrambling, falling, scattered pieces keeps me occupied

6:20. A word out of place. And it started this echo that kept reverberating and bouncing back and forth off the walls of my mind. And it shook everything out of place. Like a tiny tremor that upsets the precarious balance that had been a happy accident.

The crows and their noise just before maghrib remind me of Karachi and the breezy evening air, that smells like dust and sticks to your face on the sheen of oil covering your sticky skin at the end of a long day. The smell of gasoline and petrol heavy and clinging to your clothes, coming home with you

Tuesday

My thoughts are not my own. Not writing today.

Wednesday

I like this moment. Its the end of the day and I linger going back. My walk is deliberately slow and I focus and at the same time watch without seeing, the details of the accumulated dust on the sidewalk. The cars passing by seem slow and fast at the same time, their noise amplified for some reason. The sound is grating but I cant hear it even though everything feels heightened.

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malulls · 3 years

Text

The Darkest Part of the Sea- Chapter 6

Manorian Pirate fanfic

The nightmare didn't come often, but it was always the same.

It started with the darkness.

Then her grandmother's face, the anger in her eyes, the slap in her face that came next. The hand squeezing her neck, iron nails sticking out. Dizzy. She was so dizzy. So dizzy that she could do nothing as her grandmother dragged her into the water.

The sea was getting cold. So cold it hurt. Muscles getting numb.

Darker. Deeper.

A breath of air, then she was out of the water. Rocks. Black, enormous, sticking out of the sea like spears. Everywhere. She still felt dizzy. So, so dizzy. Her grandmother was still dragging her along. She realized too late. And she felt terror only after that. They were climbing, too high.

A line that should never be crossed. A place forgotten by the gods.

The sky looked misty, but there were no clouds. It was gray, like that whole place. Dead. Rotting. The words were pounding in her head. She wanted them to stop. But they didn't stop, and neither did the desert high queen. She kept climbing.

She could clearly see her grandmother's smile, iron teeth showing when she pushed her. Then she was falling. At first she thought it was darkness, but then water enveloped her. Not water like she was used to. That water was dark. Completely black, like pitch.

Still, she could clearly see the teeth of the Ilken who smiled at her.

Manon woke up, gasping. She hated it. She hated that damn nightmare. She hated her hand for feeling blood that was not flowing. Still she pressed the scar on her stomach. Still she needed to look at her white shirt to make sure it wasn't stained red.

Only then did she begin to calm down.

The ship would reach Adarlan in three months, a little less if the weather was good, then they would stop at the port of Meah and that was how Manon would escape. They would have to release her at some point, and she would rip off those wretched chains and hang Dorian with them for trapping her. Once released, she would jump into the sea and sink that ship, then free her Thirteen. She didn't care what chaos she would cause in the port.

The sky was already dark, which meant she had slept all afternoon. Great. Another sleepless night. The complete lack of what to do besides annoying Manon made her completely unregulated. At least the Thirteen had each other to irritate instead of that idle silence.

As if conjuring it, the usual rhythm of footsteps sounded down the hall, then there was Dorian, bringing her food as he had done every day for the past week. The smell of fish and spices filled the small cabin and took her mind straight to the sun and warmth of Antica. Manon had only traveled to the southern continent twice, but the cooking of the place was unmistakable. The prince opened the cell and left a small silver tray with a steaming bowl of what looked like some kind of soup before closing the door and sitting down in his usual chair.

- You look pale.

Manon ignored him completely before spooning the soup into her mouth. Forget the ring, she should have tried to rob the cook.

- Maybe it's because I haven't seen sunlight in days. Why do you insist on staying here?

- I am curious to know what you are doing during the day.

- Fantasizing about all the possible ways to kill you. I'm almost becoming a creative person.

- Good to know that you spend the whole day thinking about me.

He pulled a silver canteen from his pocket, ornate with black leather, and drank before offering it to her. She accepted, surprisingly expecting to find a taste of rum. Instead, a much better savor ran down her throat.

- Wine? - Expensive wine, apparently.

- What did you expect?

- Rum.

He almost looked offended, which made her roll her eyes.

- You really are a spoiled princeling.

- I'm a captain. Every captain has a proper wine cellar. Rum is for pirates.

- "Rum is for pirates." What do you do in your spare time, kick poor people?

Manon turned the rest of the canteen whole. She was in need of some alcohol in her body and if this had annoyed Dorian, all the better.

- Kicking people is not my favorite activity. Maybe it's yours.

- I prefer something that involves a little more blood.

She handed the canteen back to him and concentrated on finishing her dinner, which ended earlier than she would have liked. When she raised her eyes, he was staring at her.

- What?

- Why do you call yourselves Ironteeth? Isn't that the name of the sirens who lived in the Narrow Sea?

Manon wondered where this sudden interest was coming from. In the last few days he had barely exchanged glances with her beyond what was necessary, that very afternoon the prince had not said a word.

- Do you know what they are?

- They are beautiful and wicked creatures from ancient legends that sailors used to tell. They devoured men and then sank their ships. But they haven't been seen for more than a century. It became just a story.

That's what they had become. Just a story.

- Have you ever heard of the Ship Cemetery?

- Anyone who sails has heard of it. It''s a stretch of rock where the sea drags all the wrecked ships. It's just beyond the Narrow Sea and- a glint of surprise flashed in his eyes - from the Deserts.

His sapphire-colored eyes were filled with disbelief and distrust. She almost smiled.

- You haven't answered my question. What do sirens have to do with the Deserts?

- Nothing. I don't know why. Our people have been called that for centuries. Probably some high-queen stole the name to scare the other kingdoms. Nobody would want to get into a war against creatures like this.

Dorian still looked doubtful for a moment, then blinked as if he had just realized that it was a completely stupid idea.

Still he gave a little smile and asked:

- Do you have iron teeth?

- If I did, I would have bitten you.

That lazy, lazy smile spread across his face. Manon was beginning to think that he was only doing it to annoy her.

- I'm sure I'm delicious.

He stood up and held out his hand to her, silently asking for the tray. She raised her eyebrows. If he was so keen to irritate her, she would irritate him too.

- What if I don't return it?

- Then I'll be forced to spend the rest of the night watching you.

This time a low mocking laugh escaped her mouth.

- I don't think you'd want to spend the night in the same room as me.

- I bet you'd love that.

- I'd love it if you'd get out of my face.

- That just makes me want to stay here.

- I'm going to end up thinking that you like being around me.

- Maybe I do. Teasing you is extremely satisfying.

She was really tempted to take off one of her shoes and shoot him in the head. But before she had the chance, he opened the door and grabbed his things. Manon didn't waste any time trying to reach him, she knew the chains wouldn't allow it. A part of her almost felt... Disappointed when he left. As unbearable as Dorian was, he was still a distraction, and when he wasn't there, the only thing that filled the space, besides her, was silence.

At least his questions changed the focus of her mind.

Why do you call yourselves Ironteeth?

Manon flexed her fingers, missing the iron nails that were not there. The high-queen of the Deserts was one of the last witches who had iron teeth. Only the oldest witches still had them. They began to disappear ten decades after the heiress' grandmother was born, two hundred years earlier. Thinking about her grandmother reminded her of the nightmare. She hated that, hated that weakness, and sometimes hated her grandmother too. The witch scolded herself for the thought. She was the only family she had besides a few cousins, she was queen and even if she wasn't, she was still Matriarch of her clan. Her duty was to protect and obey her grandmother, without question.

No questioning. Discipline, brutality and above all obedience. These were the words she had spent her life hearing.

They shouldn't sound so wrong.

- Why does an heiress spend her days stealing ships from other kingdoms?

- Why don't you stop asking questions?

Dorian didn't answer. At first, he and Manon were doing a great job of ignoring each other, but he had let his curiosity speak louder. This was almost becoming a routine. Going down there and filling the witch with questions, while she told him to shut up and rolled her eyes.

Dorian loved to see those beautiful golden eyes glowing with anger. Irritating Manon was becoming his favorite activity.

- In case you don't know, a desert doesn't have many resources. So we take them.

- Have you ever heard of commerce?

She gave him a debauched smile.

- It's no use if you don't have anything to sell.

- You used to market precious stones. Why did you stop?

After all, the desert kingdom was famous for pearls. The Queen of Adarlan herself had a giant necklace with dozens of them that Dorian used to wiggle when she let him sit on her lap. The memory surprised him. Thinking that his mother had once cared enough to take him on her lap seemed like something from another life.

- That's none of your business.

She could not explain to him that the sea carried the stones to them. Much less that one day it had simply stopped.

Something reflected the light from the golden lantern that hung from the ceiling and shone at his waist.

- What is it?

Dorian pulled a silver pistol from his belt.

- That's a...

- A gun- he confirmed.

- I thought it was just rumors.

- Half the continent does.

As horrible as his father was, Adarlan easily had the largest army in Erilea and war resources that the other kingdoms did not. That pistol was just one of Terrin's miraculous projects. The last time Dorian was in Rifthold, he was trying to build even larger versions of them to put on the Royal Navy ships.

- Shouldn't you be helping your father if he is planning to start a war?

- What do you mean? He's not going to do that.

She laughed derisively.

- Please. Are you telling me that Adarlan's army grows larger every day for nothing?

- He can't start a war for no reason.

The deserts were on the other side of Erilea. Melisande was not a strong kingdom, but it was allied with Adarlan. Eyllwe was allied with Terrasen and no one would start a war against Terrasen. Only the kingdoms on the other side of the sea would be left, but the southern continent was too far away and no navy was capable of fighting Wendlyn's. Dorian had looked at those options a thousand times, only to be sure that there was no way his father could put Erilea to war.

- The only war in Erilea is yours against the crochans.

The golden flames in her eyes lit up, there was a hatred there that was greater than any anger she felt from him and than anything she had ever shown.

- We are not at war with anyone. Crochans are just parasites that we are trying to eliminate from our lands.

- What has happened between your people?

The old anger disappeared from her face and returned to the usual irritation directed at him. He held up his hands as if in surrender.

- I'm leaving after this.

- You'd better really go. Almost two hundred years ago, the Crochans lived with the Iron Teeth in the deserts. We had two queens and they ruled together. - Manon felt her own mind getting distant, going back home to the history of her people, to the problems she carried as an heiress. - One day, they betrayed us. Nobody knows why. The Crochan queen, Rhiannon, killed the heiress of the Ironteeth when she was just a baby, so she tried to kill our queen too.

She also had no way to explain to him how rare children were in the deserts, or why killing one of them was the most reprehensible crime among them.

- They never came close to being like us in the war - Manon continued the story - the Crochans were almost destroyed after that. Those that were left were either far from the capital or by some miracle managed to escape. That's the only reason they still exist today, because as far as we know, every inch of the city was stained with their blood. Now we try to disappear with what is left. It's not a war.

Dorian was completely silent, just listening to the story. He frowned.

- Still, you have not managed to eliminate them completely until today. With the weapons Adarlan possessed, they could. They would simply vanish the Crochans from that land in months, maybe less. That was probably why she was so interested in this. But when Dorian looked at Manon again, any interest had been replaced only by resentment and something that looked like exhaustion. He thought it must be the weight she carried as heiress, any trouble in the kingdom falling on her.

And that he understood perfectly well.

- Get out.

For the first time, Dorian obeyed.

-------------------

Hey, this is probably the last chapter I will post for a while, since I don't know what to write anymore and I don't like what I am writing

@positivewitch @awesomelena555 @darklingswhxore @hellasblessed @wandererbyheart @notyournymphetish @acourtofsjmtrash

#dorian havilliard #manon blackbeak #manorian #throne of glass #sarah j maas #dorian x manon #fanfic #manon x dorian #pirates

30 notes · View notes

itsadamcole · 3 years

Text

fix you

fem!reader x finn balor

(requested) reader loses someone really close to her and Finn is the only one who can "fix her" ...

word count: 2.3k+

warnings: mentions of someone dying, the grieving process, crying, upset!reader

— this is based on “fix you” by coldplay. thank you to anonymous for requesting this. it’s one of my favorite things i’ve ever written —

masterlist || request an imagine here

***

The first feeling you felt was numbness. It didn't seem real when your brother called you to tell you the news. You couldn't believe what your brother was telling you. It was shocking and very unexpected.

"Y/N, Mom and Dad were hit by a drunk driver," your brother said to you over the phone. "They went to the hospital but they didn't make it. They're gone."

The funeral was the same day that you had an opportunity for the NXT Women's Championship so you couldn't go, but you won the title. Nothing felt any different. You didn't feel happy or in a celebratory mood. Yeah, maybe you felt borderline content with winning the title, but it didn't help you feel better like you thought you would. You put on a fake smile but cried real tears that day. The confetti fell, everyone was celebrating, and all you wanted was to see your parents' faces in the crowd. They weren't there.

It's been a week since you won the title, and you're still in denial about your brother's call. You've tried calling your parents' phones, hoping they'd answer. You only spoke to their voicemails. You just wanted to hear their voices. It had been a few weeks since you last talked to them, and you wish you talked to them more recently.

You've pushed all your friends away since you've tried to cope with your parent's deaths. You've been so tired, but you haven't been able to sleep at night. Non-stop tears streaming down your face for days, maybe even weeks. You don't even know.

What am I supposed to do when I lose something I can't replace? you think to yourself every night when you lay in bed. The thoughts constantly ring through your mind when you're trying to sleep. Does it get worse than this? Can you handle it if it does get worse than this?

One of your friends, well your boyfriend, asked you if he could come to your apartment today. You told him he can come over. You saw him the day you won your title but you haven't seen anyone in days

You've been hiding out in your apartment, barely eating and not showering. You haven't had any motivation to do anything. Your little one-bedroom apartment is a disaster. Clothes are thrown everywhere in your room, the living room is covered in trash and glasses, and the dishes are piling up in the sink. The title lays on the arm of one of the chairs in the living room.

At almost one in the afternoon, there's a light knock on your apartment door. You get up, brushing your hair out of your face and wiping the tears away that have stained your cheeks. You unlock the door and open it.

Finn Balor stands at your front door in his signature black leather jacket, a black t-shirt, and jeans. He's holding a bouquet of flowers, a bag with snacks, and an iced coffee from Dunkin Donuts. The tears start again at the kind gesture. "Finn," you cry, walking toward him and hugging him.

"Don't cry," Finn coos. "Come on, let's go dig into these snacks, yeah?"

Nodding, you let Finn walk into the dark apartment. The curtains are all closed, making it darker in the apartment than it is outside. Finn looks around the apartment, setting the bag of snacks down on the kitchen island counter. You stand behind him and look at his view.

"I, um," you say, clearing your throat. "I haven't had the chance to clean it up." Finn turns and looks back at you. Tears well in your eyes. "Actually, that's a lie. I haven't had the motivation to clean it up in weeks."

Your boyfriend sees the tears in your eyes and says, "Hey, that's okay. Ya are going through a lot, Y/N. We can clean it up together and I can help ya in any way ya need me to help."

Nodding, you say, "That sounds nice, Finn. Thank you."

Finn nods and says, "Anything for ya, my love." He walks over to the silverware drawer and grabs spoons. "So, I brought over your favorite ice cream and we can watch some Netflix or Disney Plus. Whatever ya wanna do."

He hands you a spoon and a tub of your favorite ice cream flavor, chocolate chip cookie dough. You take the tub and walk to the couch. You throw the empty boxes of tissues off the couch so Finn can sit. He joins you and grabs the remote, putting on Netflix. You open the tub of ice cream.

"You've been starting a lot of things but ya don't finish watching them," Finn observes. "Ya started so many shows."

You stab at the ice cream and say, "Yeah, I watch it then I get sidetracked with crying." You stab harder at the ice cream and get frustrated. "Why won't this stupid spoon go into the ice cream?"

Finn looks over at you and says, "It's a frozen food, Y/N. It'll defrost a bit if ya give it time."

Getting irritable, you mumble, "Time's not something a lot of us have." His facial expression softens when he hears what you say.

These comments and thoughts aren't uncommon, especially recently. You've been thinking about this a lot while you've spent hours upon hours crying.

You're still stabbing at the frozen ice cream when Finn reaches over. You snap, "I can do it myself."

"I was just trying to help," Finn says, pulling his hands back from you. He's looking at you while you finally get a spoonful of ice cream onto the metal spoon. You take the bite.

"I don't need you to help me with getting ice cream onto a spoon," you say.

Finn looks at you and asks, "Why am I here then? All you're doing is snapping at me and making these comments that you didn't make before."

You say, "You're the one that asked to come over, Finn."

He blinks at you and says, "Because I missed my girlfriend, Y/N. I still do. I don't know who ya are anymore. I don't know this person. Ya disappeared after ya won the title and I didn't hear from ya until I reached out to ask to come over. I probably wouldn't have ever heard from ya if I didn't ask to come over."

While Finn talked, you put the tub of ice cream on the table. When he's done, you say, "My parents died, I didn't get to say goodbye, and you expect me to just be the same Y/N I was before they died. I didn't even get to go to their funeral, Finn. I was too busy winning a title I'll eventually lose anyway. I was winning a title that I don't even deserve." You begin crying again for the millionth time in weeks.

Finn turns so he's facing you as he says, "I never expected ya to be the same Y/N ya were before. I one hundred percent never expected ya to be the same Y/N. I've never lost a parent let alone two so I can't understand the pain and the anger you're feeling right now." He takes your hands in his and holds them while you cry. "Especially because they died so unexpectedly and you didn't get to say goodbye to them."

"Fix me, Finn," you cry to your boyfriend. "I can't keep doing this. I can't keep crying when the smallest thing sets me off like this. I can't have my apartment looking like this." You motion to the messy room around you. "For the first time in weeks, I felt genuinely happy because you were here. I feel like you're the only one who can fix me."

He pulls you into a tight hug and your bury your face into Finn's neck. You cry silently as Finn says, "I'll try to fix ya, Y/N. I can't promise that I can but I'll try. I can't be the only one putting in effort though, baby. I need ya to work with me on this too."

You look up at Finn and you nod, saying, "I can do that." He gives you a soft smile and wipes away your tears before cupping your face. You meet his eyes before he rests his forehead on yours.

Your boyfriend says, "Ya know I'm always here for ya, Y/N. Ya don't have to push me away like I know ya probably want to. I'm in this with ya. Tell me what ya need and we can get started."

"Can we clean my apartment so it looks halfway decent again?" you ask.

Finn laughs a little bit and says, "Of course. I'll get some trash bags and we can start."

Nodding, you pull yourself away from Finn and he gets up. He grabs trash bags from the kitchen and you gather the empty tissue boxes that litter the floor. You grab the used tissues too that missed the tiny trash can you have in the room. Finn returns with an open trash bag and you throw them out.

Then you walk into the kitchen to do the pile of dirty dishes. Finn brings you any glasses, plates, or silverware he finds throughout the living room and dining room areas. He does the same in your bedroom. You do them as he brings them to you.

Your boyfriend being here has given you a little extra motivation you failed to find over the past few weeks. He's helping you clean, and he promised to help try and fix what's going on with you.

You know it won't be easy learning to cope with your parents' deaths, but maybe Finn being around can help you begin to cope. Sometimes having someone to be there for you isn't a terrible idea. So, you make a mental note to see your other friends when you go to NXT tonight.

Step one is to cope with the fact that your parents are gone. Learn to deal with all the emotions you're feeling without keeping them bottled up or snapping on someone because you're feeling emotional. Finn can help you with that, and you're grateful.

It's one step at a time from now on while you learn to cope. You'll figure out step two when you eventually get past step one.

It's close to four when the apartment is cleaned, dusted, swept, vaccummed, and washed. You've even showered and shaved by this time, and dressed in clean clothes that aren't stained with tears or snot. Your hair doesn't look like a bird's nest and you were actually able to put on some makeup so now it looks like you've slept.

You walk into the living room after your shower and find Finn on the couch watching Netflix. You walk up behind him and cover his eyes. "Guess who?" you say by his ear.

"Hm, I don't know," he tease. "Whoever it is actually smells clean."

After gently tapping the back of his head, you uncover his eyes and say, "Jerk."

Finn turns his head and looks at you. He smiles and says, "Look at ya. Ya look good in actual clothes instead of a t-shirt and sweatpants. Not that ya don't look good in a t-shirt and sweatpants but ya have probably been wearing them for days."

You say, "You're the reason I'm actually dressed. You give me a little extra motivation and kick just by being here. Thank you."

He gets on his knees and faces you. "I'm just here to help ya get through this," he says. "Start to finish."

You wrap your arms around his neck and say, "You're the best. I don't deserve this."

Finn says, "Ya don't deserve what happened to ya. We can fly to your hometown so ya can see your family if ya want."

"When I'm a little stronger and I can handle my emotions better we can," you say. Your face falls. "My parents never were able to meet you."

He says, "I don't have to meet them to know that they gave birth and raised one of the most intelligent, athletic, strong, and most beautiful women on this planet. I know they would have went off and started telling me how smart ya are, how strong ya are, how well ya wrestle, and how beautiful ya are. I already know all of that."

Your face gets all flustered as you listen to what Finn has to say. You let him finish before you say, "I wanted them to know how amazing you are, Finn. I wanted them to know that you're taking care of me while I'm thousands of miles away from them."

Your boyfriend climbs over the couch and stands in front of you. "I'm sure they know," Finn says. "If not, I'm sure they do now."

He engulfs you in a hug and you rest your head against Finn's chest. "I know," you sigh. "I'm just glad you're here and trying to help me."

"Fix ya," he reminds you.

You look up at Finn and say, "Yes, fix me." You give a small smile.

Finn says, "Woah, was that a smile? Wow, it's been a long time since I've seen that pretty thing."

Your face gets hot again and you say, "Finn, if you don't stop making me get all flustered."

He chuckles and says, "I'm sorry, mo ghra. Anyway, ya ready to head to the arena? We do have a job to do tonight."

Nodding, you grab your bag and your title. You grab your keys and leave your apartment with Finn.

#finn balor imagine #finn balor x reader #finn balor angst #finn balor fluff #wrestling imagine #wrestling angst #wrestling fluff #wwe imagine #wwe angst #wwe fluff #nxt imagine #nxt angst #nxt fluff #wrestler x reader #angst imagine #fluff imagine

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kaitomomotah · 7 years

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#I want to sleep i woke up at 10 yesterday and haven't slept since not even one minute #my bronchitis medication had a bad reaction the pot of coffee I had and that's why I wanted to kill myself #I've been busy today gotta keep myself busy #lurked my rapist last night now I know he is exactly one day older than my best friend and his sister is a starseed like me #and all my middle school friends love him so so so much #my nanas God daughter is always posting memes on his page #he dated my middle school best friend for quite a while this year #and he and my other old best friend hang out and watch anime today #and that hurts because she was the one who got me into Avenue q and one piece and ohshc #and he moved to Mississippi a few months ago but apparently he left to go to college and I can't find where #and there's a huge college in town here where I live now #he used to live almost 2 hours away from here when I knew him but still #he could move to my town #I saw his best friend at the mall here around a year ago and went numb #I would never feel safe leaving my house again #I left the house maybe 4 times summer 2013 even though I moved hours away from him #the damage left me so terrified and I just #not happy ok

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morelikesin · 4 years

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Morning

A small drabble on an emotional morning with Phoenix and Miles 💕 This takes place any time after Dual Destinies. I'm writing it where they're already married. This is just a quick bit I wanted to write when I had the idea :') I also drew a quick something at the end. The fic is under the cut!

Phoenix really wished he had more days off - everytime he was, there was always a great smell in the house from Miles' cooking. Being off work more often meant more of that, even if a little less bank coming in. It would definitely be worth it.

Lifting himself up from the cushioned mattress and tossing aside the velvety soft blankets atop of him, he stretches his limbs with a low groan - reaching his arms back before pulling them into his lap as he relaxed. Taking in a deep breath, he pulls his legs over the side of the bed and hoists himself over so he could see what was on the menu this morning.

Closing the lid of the cooking pot to steam the rice, Mr. Edgeworth hummed quietly to himself a peaceful little tune; one of which he'd seem to be making up as he went along. Turning his attention elsewhere as the grains cooked, he lowered the heat for another burner to medium, where he was cooking miso soup. Adding in a good few tablespoons of yellow miso paste, he whisked the substance into the already simmered broth before adding some previously cut up blocks of tofu. Raising the spoon to catch a quick taste, he found it was light, slightly sweet, and smooth in a way he quite enjoyed. Something was missing though, of course - turning towards the fridge to grab a few stalks of watercress to chop and throw in.

Stepping out from their bedroom and making his way downstairs into their kitchen, Phoenix paused a moment to simply watch his love candid from the steps. Miles, dressed in his soft, white robe like every morning accompanied by his perfect-as-always hair. Phoenix could nay say the same, given his own styling takes ten minutes on a good day.

Watching the way he so gracefully moved even without knowing eyes were on him was incredibly cute - though Miles would never let him say that, with how against that description he was when it was of himself. For now, Phoenix knew Miles was cute. Handsome, of course. Sexy, of course. Cute, of course.

Phoenix made his presence known by making a soft yawn as he walked down the last few steps, walking into the main kitchen and making sure to gently hold his hand against the small of Miles' back as he stood next to him. The latter shook his head slightly whilst quickly chopping up the watercress aforementioned - swiftly picking them up between his hand and the knife and tossing it into the soup.

"Good morning, Wright. How did you sleep?"

Phoenix made a darling little laugh that Miles loved so much - the type with a sort of deepness to it; a sort of breathlessness. "Well, I slept just fine with you by me, hun," he spoke prior to pressing his lips against the prosecutor's cheek, "with you being as warm as a radiator and all, ha..!"

Miles scoffed. "Very funny. Is that all I'm good for in bed? To keep you warm?"

"I was about to say no, but..'keeping me warm' sure has a lot of meanings. And I think you're good for all of them." Phoenix sighed, sporting a small smile as he pressed his face into the nape of Miles' neck contently - lips gently kissing his shoulder. It earned a sweet, if calm, sigh from the prosecutor.

"..I could say the same for you. But it's much too early for this, mm? We can work out our flirtations after we eat breakfast."

Phoenix kept his dorky smile splashed on his countenance as he pulled away, raising a hand to brush back some strands of hair from his eyes - finding himself not too annoyed today with his 'naturally-spiky-but-not-spiky-enough-and-more-messy' bedhead. "That works with me; everything smells so good!"

Miles looked flattered from that. "Thank you, Wright. It is certainly better than what you normally make yourself in the morning-"

"Hey- don't knock cup coodles! I could live off of those."

Miles furrowed his brows and gave a glance to Phoenix in exasperation. "This is why I'm the one who feeds us. Anyhow.." The former smiled to himself as he pulled a plastic package of soba noodles in front of him on the counter - removing the wrapper and slowly adding the noodle block into the miso broth. "Maya called me earlier. She asked me to tell you that she'll be unavailable all day."

With Phoenix opening the fridge door to grab something to drink, he paused to speak before grabbing the carton of orange juice - much like many of their groceries, an expensive brand that Phoenix wasn't used to, and Miles' choosing. "Oh? Was she planning on taking Trucy and Pearls somewhere?"

Miles shook his head as he wiped off his hands with a damp washcloth that he'd set beside him prior, "Sort of. She wanted to make a trip to Hazakura Temple - she and Pearl are to train while Trucy is their...how did she put it, ah.. 'hype-man'." He felt silly even recalling the term, but Phoenix's expression seemed to prove that he knew what he meant.

"Hah- well, she'll get no bother from me then. I'll just check up on them when they get back. We have the whole day to ourselves, for once.." Phoenix meekly spoke - pouring himself a glass of the aforementioned juice before guzzling it down in a post-sleep thirstiness. He wiped his upper lip with his wrist as he went back in to pour some more.

"It is rare, isn't it..?" The prosecutor seemed somewhat sorrowful in stating that. "I want to make the most of it. It's not often I'm not out travelling, or you're not on duty, or there's no emergencies."

Phoenix parted his lips to speak, before sighing and looking down to his cup solemnly. He set it down. "...Yeah. But..I still love you all the same." He looked back up to the love of his life; a carefree smile pulling at his lips and a special brightness glittering in his eyes, "We're a family. Things are..always going to come up, but our time spent away or together feel all the same to me. The only difference is that I get to actually kiss you, in times like now. Being apart..just reminds me of how much I trust you."

The words hit harder than Miles expected them to. Even with the defense attorney's unorganized nature, and his less-than-articulate manner, it was somehow more meaningful to him. Phoenix was always emotional, and true to what he said - this was no different. Edgeworth's expression was strong; brows furrowed up and eyes purposefully lying low.

Phoenix paused, "..Come here."

He gestured for a hug after his gentle words; Miles all too eager for the embrace. Phoenix's arms draped over Miles' shoulders, wrapping around his neck as to pull himself closer. Vice versa was Miles wrapping his arms tightly around Phoenix's waist; both of their heads lay upon the other's shoulder, welcoming what warmth was available. They held each other for what felt like so long, and simultaneously not long enough; the only reason for their part was so they could meet at their lips, instead. Passionate, and yet soft - just a simple press without much else, yet it was all they needed. By the end of their embrace, their heads leaned forward to touch at their foreheads while holding each other's hands between their chests. Their thumbs occasionally brushed over each other's wedding rings.

"..You know how much you mean to me, Phoenix."

"I know, Miles." He huffed out a short breath before breaking into a smile, "..You could always just say 'I love you'."

And with that, the silver-haired Edgeworth broke into a laugh and slowly pulled away, "Alright, alright..I love you. You know that."

"I love you too, Miles."

Phoenix watched as his love went back to his work - Miles grabbing his wooden chopsticks as to stir the noodles. The more defensive of the two sat at the dining table, glass in hand.

"...I'm going to guess that you won't want onions in your serving of noodles."

Phoenix pretended to gag in response to Miles, "Ghk-! Absolutely-! Onions taint everything they touch..." He hesitated, "..Other than onion rings. But that's the only good thing with onions!"

Edgeworth rolled his eyes with a playful smile, chuckling to himself a bit at just how strongly Wright felt over such a thing as onions. "Of course. Though, you're missing out on their flavour, dear - I've never met someone other than you who has a distaste for them."

"You haven't met anyone with any tastebuds," Phoenix scoffed back - earning a snort from the other.

"Oh, have I? Dear, I think you're referring to yourself there."

The defense paused; his face lifting as his cocky court grin curled onto his lips. "Unfortunately, Edgeworth, I think you have some words to eat. Clearly my statement is right - anyone who's ever tasted an onion could tell you that it tastes like damn garbage."

The prosecution stifled a laugh, lolling his head to look over his shoulder at his rival. "Oh, Wright. I'm afraid you've buried your grave - onions obviously give any dish they're added to an excellent depth of flavor."

"Well obviously they do not- ow-!" Phoenix burst into a soft laugh as Miles leaned over to smack his arm with his chopsticks - ending their court imitations. "Hun-!"

Miles rolled his eyes and looked back down to his cooking. "My love. We don't need to argue over onions. Besides, I'm not about to settle a case over opinion."

"Ha-! Well then, baby doll, I'm prepared to settle a case of any kind. Maybe you just don't have that kind of determination?" Phoenix jested, taking another swig of his orange juice.

"Of course you would be, Feenie." Miles hesitated before chuckling to himself. Swirling the noodles inside the pot, he shook his head. "That's a new one. I don't know where that came from... It's sort of cute, no? Feenie. Hm."

When Miles went to look at Phoenix for his approval, he was numb; his husband's face suddenly not as lively as it once was. His eyes gazed low, gazed dryly. His hands tensed around the glass he held, knuckles bearing white. Worst of all, his countenance really held no expression at all - the fact that it was so stiff, so miserable looking was what'd caused Miles to choke back a breath.

What was it about that name that suddenly struck Miles as odd? Feenie. Feenie.

"It's.. uh.. not great, honestly, Miles. No offense or anything."

"I'm- sorry." Miles was admittedly stunned - a little ashamed, a little confused, very concerned. "..For some reason its.. ringing a bell-"

"Dahlia."

"I'm..sorry?"

"..Dahlia used to call me that. You know, before.."

The room was drenched in silence - Miles struggling to find any words to say. What could he say to that - what should he? Though, the look on Phoenix's pitiful face urged him to find something.

"...I didn't mean to hurt you, saying it. I-" Miles hummed to himself and turned his head to Phoenix, lip bitten and unsure how to word himself. He slowly looked back down to his cooking when words couldn't properly form in his throat.

"It's fine." Phoenix nodded - looking away and tapping his fingers on the table in a sort of anxiousness. "You didn't know."

"I didn't remember," Miles scolded himself, "I should have remembered such a thing like that."

Phoenix looked a little put off. "Don't feel guilty for that. It was so long ago - I.. I didn't expect you too."

The soft bubbling of the broth in the pot filled the silence between them; chopsticks occasionally hitting the sides of the pot, Pess jingling her collar as she scratched herself from the living room all the while. Phoenix tried to will Miles to turn around so he could assure him it was fine, without words - however when Miles never did he spoke up hesitantly.

"I didn't mean to ruin the mood."

Miles quickly scoffed and turned to look at Phoenix with a pained expression, "You didn't, Phoenix. You were just telling me of something that hurt you."

"It's just a nickname, though," Phoenix laughed at himself, seemingly ashamed, "It's a little stupid to hurt so much over a nickname, isn't it?"

"I don't think so," Miles replied, his tone hurt from his husband stuffing his emotions down - such a thing from Phoenix was rare, and it made this hurt just a little more than usual. Setting the chopsticks horizontally on the counter, he ushered himself away from the stove to lay a gentle, lithe hand on Phoenix's forearm, and leaning down so he could rest his chin atop his head.

Phoenix nearly melted into his touch, feeling comforted by Miles' body and his warmth. Finding solace in the safety of his arms, Phoenix allowed himself to exhale a deep breath and relax. Unsatisfied with the arrangements, however, he shook his head and gestured his head down. "Get in front of me a bit, Miles."

He wasn't about to complain, though as he moved in front of Phoenix to kneel, Miles was still a tad confused. Before he could ask why Phoenix wanted him to, the man placed his hands on the prosecutor's cheeks and leaned forward to kiss his forehead.

"I prefer looking at you, dear," Phoenix hummed. He moved his hands down to take Miles' own - raising them to place endearing kisses against flushed knuckles and fingertips, much to his husband's timidity. "..Thank you. For not minding putting up with me and all."

"Ah, yes," Miles started, smiling, "I married you because I simply 'didn't mind putting up with you'."

Phoenix laughed as he realized the hilarity of what he had said, "Hey! You know what I mean!"

"I married someone I just 'put up with'." Miles continued, chortling to himself, "Not in an act of pure love or anything."

Phoenix hushed Miles' teasing by leaning down and pressing his lips against the other's - the two humming against the warmth before falling into the quiet passion, then lingeringly pulling away. Their hands kept their doting hold still.

"..I love you, Phoenix. However, breakfast is due to overcook."

Phoenix shrugged and pressed his lips against Miles' cheek, unwilling to pull away as proven by how he spoke against his skin. "I don't mind."

"Suppose you wouldn't," Miles breathed out, amused.

Miles held himself in Phoenix's grasp before reluctantly pulling away to take charge of the stove again. Phoenix didn't seem to be happy with such an arrangement, so he took it upon himself to stand and wrap his arms around Miles' waist, head resting on his shoulder. The prosecutor pressed his palm against Phoenix's forearm in silent fondness - his other busy stirring food.

#ace attorney #narumistu #wrightworth #phoenix wright #miles edgeworth #gyakuten saiban #aa #tw #trauma tw #finished #my art #don't steal #original #morelikesin #traditional art #mine #my work

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