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ghouljams · 2 days

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More fae!Gaz, he's so boyfriend, he's always there when you need him. Even if you didn't know he'd be there or that you'd need him! That's just how great he is!

You duck under an awning to escape the sudden downpour, already soaked to the bone. You look out at the pouring rain, tip your head to try and get a glimpse at how the clouds are moving, and sigh. You'll just have to wait it out. You wish you'd brought your umbrella.

The door beside you chimes, and there's the click fwump of an umbrella being opened. You glance at the man looking out at the rain, you recognize him. You've had a few conversations with him. Not friends, not even acquaintances, but not strangers either. What was his name again?

Something whispers through your mind, bounces and echoes: Gaz, Gaz, Gaz.

"Gaz?" You confirm. He turns to looks at you, and his eyes spark with recognition. He smiles and you smile back.

"Hey there sunshine," Gaz grins, his eyes drag over you, bounce across your chest and the way your soaked shirt clings to you, "gone for a swim?"

You laugh, shake your head and then shake it harder to try and get some of the water off it. You don't know how rain always feels so much colder and wetter than regular water, but you can feel it drip off you thickly. Gaz laughs, it sounds like chocolate. You don't- you don't know how to describe it. It's like chocolate. Rich and sweet, but dark with a hint of bitterness that makes you want to hear it again and again. You find yourself staring at him, pushing your hair off your forehead to stop the water from rolling down into your eyes. Already you've had to blink away the drops that settled on your lashes.

"Didn't bring my umbrella," you explain. Gaz nods, the cocks his head back towards the shop door.

"S'why I stopped in for one."

"Smart, don't know why I didn't think of that." You watch the rain fall for a moment, before you're struck with recollection. "We live in the same building right?" Gaz hums.

"You knocked on my door for a cuppa once." You nod and he shifts his grip on the umbrella, holding it between you. "You asking to share?"

"Could save me a few pounds," You're only half joking, stepping closer until your shoulder brushes his.

"What if I'm not headed for the tube?" You look up at Gaz, watch him cock a brow curiously. He never loses his smile. Something itches in the back of your mind, warning you against friendly strangers. Something else quiets it, pets the scared animal into submission with that soft echoing whisper: Gaz, Gaz, Gaz.

"Then you can just drop me off at the nearest station and be on your way," you reason. That seems to amuse him, something sparking in his eyes that lights up his smile. He's warm. Green. Natural. You can smell the dirt of a nearby flower pot, the dust of the city. Petrichor, your brain supplies. The smell of dust after rain.

Mentally you kick yourself. From a fucking Doctor Who episode ya numpty. Trying to sound poetic when you're just quoting a damn- and it's not even an episode you liked! Ugh.

Gaz taps your forehead, two gentle taps that make you blink. There's something familiar in the gesture, friendly in a way that's overly friendly for how close you aren't.

"Looked like you were getting lost in there," he says when you smack your hand against the tapped skin.

"Well throw down a rope then," you grumble. Your therapist is right you gotta start being more present. This is why you get caught in the rain, too busy day dreaming.

"How about I get you home first," Gaz jokes.

"Just to the station is fine," you tell him, hurrying to stay under the umbrella as he starts walking. Gaz shrugs, the umbrella shifts, and you press closer to avoid soaking your shoulder a second time.

"I'm going home anyway, may as well take you with me."

You roll your eyes. An alarm bell rings in the back of your mind, smothered by a thick magic that whispers to you: Gaz, Gaz, Gaz.

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musicalchaos07 · 4 months

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Local girl was paralyzed in anxiety for 4 hours bc she had to ask for something she needed

#it was me #anyways my therapist will be hearing about this #personal

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glitterslag · 7 months

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it's mother wound szn

#weird things are happening #friday night one minute I'm cooking dinner next im in tears thinking about the shit with my mam.. standard friday eve whatever. we move #saturday my friend asks me if i wanna go to see the mother and the weaver exhib #which centres around the artists complex relationship with her mum who she relates to a spider #it makes me feel fucked up and weird #we go for dinner then part ways and im feeling odd and i pass Curzon so i decide to go watch fremont to cheer myself up #did no research thought it was a sweet quirky romcom abt a fortune cookie writer with jeremy allen white #well. dont get me wrong it was so wonderful highly recommend. but i left that screening feeling FUCKING TERRIBLE and incredibly lonely #anyways. i decide im gonna have a bubble bath when i get home. THERES A BIG OLD SPIDER IN THE BATH. BONJOUR MAMAN #and i save it instead of kill it because thats mummy #flash forward to this morning I'm making my coffee #my flatmate. UNPROVOKED. asks me: hey lucy whats your relationship with your mum like?#LIKE #THATS A VIO #anyways my therapist will be hearing about this #what a wild weekend #dear diary

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inkskinned · 2 years

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one of the oddest arguments i've ever gotten into was like. i had agreed to give a dude a chance. we were on a first date. and he got. just. so mad. because i had told him i read about 2-5 books a week.

but he found out it was actually that i listen to 2-5 audiobooks. he was dead set on the idea - that's not reading, it's just listening. that i was lying, somehow, by implying i'd "read" the book.

language has a beautiful ability to adapt over time, particularly in the face of technology. when i "connect to the internet" i'm referencing the oldschool method of literally plugging into the internet - which i very rarely physically do. i roll down my window, which is a reference to the circular mechanical action it used to take. hell - the floppy disc remains our resolute save file icon. when i say i "ran to the store," nobody expects me to actually run - and what my version of running to the store looks like and your version are probably pretty different.

i told the guy, baffled: i look at things through glasses, that's still seeing. nobody complains i'm filtering the image.

he says: that's not the same and you know it.

i use audiobooks because i have adhd, and it makes it so i can actually focus. i am using it to help a medically diagnosed condition.

language also has a really cool ability: when we read something, our brains look at a word and make an image. when we hear a story, our brains hear a word and make an image. whether we hear it or read it - the word means the same thing, written or spoken. there is no quantifiable difference in the knowledge-encoding experience - i still happily hallucinate while i'm listening.

and i just kind of stared at him while he was telling me that "claiming" i had "actually read" a book that i had actually-listened-to was lying

and my only baffled response was like: "... are you gatekeeping the experience of... reading?"

#1. do you think someone who listens to 2-5 books a week DOESNT read with her eyes?#2. i was fucking BLIND for TWO MONTHS #so YEAH maybe im SENSITIVE #3. shut the FUCK up i am not DESTROYING SOCIETY by being like ''hahaha this experience is basically the same for me''#i am still fucking engaging with the literature dude #4. i consider it reading. die mad about it #5. this is just a personal note but they are LITERALLY equivalent to me #bc i mean i guess 7k posts in i should probably finally admit #i have a lowkey form of synesthesia #to be fair i didn't know until like this year when my therapist was like #''... you WHAT''#but like when im talking i see words and when im writing i legit hear them #like HEAR THEM #i just thought everyone had that #thats called thinking #but it turns out the fact that i sometimes mishear a word and write down what i misheard #means maybe i am fuckt a little in my head #anyway obvi when i read i hear the word too #i cAN sometimes see other people's words but it's usually just my own #and i was like #(again)#thats just like how . people talk #but it turns out if u sometimes misread what you're supposed to be saying #something might be . uhhhhhhhh #not normal #fun fact.#it turns out (i havent googled but she said)#that it's not UNUSUAL for neurodiverse people to have like #SOME lowkey form of synesthesia #but we only associate it with REALLY severe cases so we just assume like .... couldn't be me

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dreadfuldevotee · 4 months

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Literally, I think I'll be genuinely angry if we go some huge amount of time without ever seeing Yaz again. LIKE I CANT GET OVER: There is a Woman out there, who loves you so much. Sometimes to her own detriment, but God is she truly in love with you. You, The Doctor, are in love with this woman. You wished for forever with this woman. You regreted not giving voice to how much you love her so much, that it almost fucking fixes you're next incarnation. You! The Doctor!! have a whole lifetime of therapy, or whatever you quantify as that idk, in part to work on that whole "so emotionally repressive, its killing the vibes in the next galaxy over" and are back and traveling and whatnot. AND THAT WOMAN IS STILL OUT THERE!! If I were you, The Doctor, I would go tell that wonderful woman who loved me and stood by me when I was actively breaking her heart and pushing her away that I love her. That even if those emotions have changed in the lifetime I've been away, That there was a time that I loved her like she loved me. That I carry that love we shared still and what has become of it with me.

#doctor who #thasmin #the doctor #yasmin khan #char.txt #in my imagination the doctor/yaz reunion actually happens with 15 but that's because i love ncuti most #i wish I could say this is a product of some kind inebriation but the truth is im stone cold sober #i just get really impassioned abt shit that doesnt matter past midnight #anyway if i was a companion of the doctor and i heard about them and yaz and learned that shes not even dead and he said nothing to her #I'd bludgeon them until they regenerate into someone less stupid (i have a taste for violence that my therapist should hear abt)

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kindnessoverperfection · 8 months

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In case anyone was wondering, people in the mental health field throw around the word "narcissist" as well

There's someone in my life I've been having issues with. I won't bore anyone with the details, but this person just overall acts like a jerk and doesn't let anyone talk to them about their behavior.

An old therapist & my case manager have both, separately, been like "You know what? They sound like a narcissist." when I told them.

I'm gonna be clear, here. They were both clearly going off of the idea that "[emotionally abusive behavior] = narcissist". That's all it was, the idea that emotionally abusive behavior is a signal of NPD.

Now, I know I can't say "x or y person certainly doesn't have this or that" any more than my case manager can armchair diagnose, but I will say that... as someone who actually does have NPD and knows what the symptoms really are and what they really look like, I've never suspected even for a second that this person has NPD.

tldr, like I said: even mental health professionals frequently go off of "emotionally abusive = narcissist" rather than considering the actual symptoms of NPD.

#actuallynpd #npd stigma #i'm rly lucky that my current therapist understands what it is & has real experience working w/actual ppl who have npd #anyway wanted to bring this up bc my case manager did that the other day #i love her to pieces but god #it's so annoying hearing the word come up more in more in people's vocabulary as it becomes more and more of a popular buzzword #like everyone is suddenly an expert because they read one clickbaity article on psychologytoday #she's never used that word before and when i tried to challenge her on it she started acting like she knew so much better and im like. let'#be clear. you're using this because it's the hot thing to say. you don't actually know anything about what you're saying.#i didn't say that outloud but... sighs

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sherlock-is-ace · 13 days

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#oh wow...#i just had an oh shit fuck moment #wow #i usually complain about the one therapist i had in my entire life and how she wouldn't just listen to what i was saying #if it didn't fit her textbook definition of whatever she was thinking at the time #and how i talked to her about my anxiety and how that made me feel and she would only focus on how i acted #so the example i gave her was the one time i went into a shop to buy something by myself #because my mom didn't want to go in for me and arguing with my mom in front of the shop in public and then inevitably have to #go in myself either way was way worse to me #because of the embarrassement of arguing in public. the fact that my mom was gonna spend the entire walk home telling me how i have to #''just suck it up and learn and just overcome my anxiety because i don't have a problem'' or whatever #and then having to go into the shop where the lady had been watching me from inside the entire time how i clearly didn't want to go in #and possibly be even more awkward with teary eyes because of the anxiety and awkwardness i already bring to the table any day...#all of those things that were going inside my head were trumped by the fact that i did go in and did buy what i needed #although my heart was coming out of my chest the entire time... all that didn't matter to my therapist because in her words:#''if you had anxiety. you simply wouldn't have gone in''#which is ridiculous #but anyways... i just had an epiphany... that was masking wasn't it?#forcing myself to do something that brings me major discomfort to make my mother and the shop lady not judge me?#pretend i'm a normal human being just doing normal things instead of someone who's about to have a heart attack buying embroidery thread?#panicking the entire time because i wasn't prepeared and hadn't scripted the entire transaction in my head?#yet still going in and putting on my ''normal person'' mask to try to seem like i wasn't just dying seconds ago (and still was)?#isn't that literally what masking is?!#and the ''autism specialist'' ass therapist was like ''if you did it then you don't have a problem''#when i'm literally telling her how much of a problem it actually WAS?!#you know what's the best part about all this #that when i told my mom after i left that therapist that she didn't listen to me because [insert everything above]#my mom's response was ''well sometimes therapist will say things that you don't want to hear but you have to accept them''....#same woman who's always saying how much she hates therapists because they ''will say whatever and pretend they know shit''#ok so it's only The Truth when I tell you it isn't...

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snixx · 10 months

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it's not that i don't believe in therapy it's that when i NEEDED it no one cared. so I figured it out myself. I know how to handle myself and my (increasingly infrequent) breakdowns and I understand myself and know I'll be okay no matter what and I self reflect and process my emotions and am very emotionally open and I'm so proud of the person I am every day. but I do have low days, and that's what pisses me off: I'm ALLOWED to be sad sometimes. it's a part of how my brain works, and the important thing is I know how to handle it effectively in a healthy way. and swooping in and forcing me to pay an insane amount to sit in an office when I DID ALL THAT WORK MYSELF is so aggravating. therapy has only ever made me feel worse. I'm a survivor, I've survived so much, and therapy is literally just a scapegoat for empathy for people these days. it relieves you of having to engage or care about other people. and LISTEN I'm not anti therapy by any means. as the Therapist Friend ™️ even when I'm mentally ill asf and when I was a literal kid myself I know that sometimes you can't do anything. professional help is necessary. it's the only way. but it doesn't!!! fucking!!! work for everyone!!! if someone isn't actively suicidal and trying to get better on their own and they don't WANT therapy because it doesn't WORK for them maybe don't be a condescending dick about it! therapy isn't a magical solution that makes everyone okay SOMETIMES people have external problems and are justified in feeling the way they do!!! therapy can be helpful yes but a lot of the time it is just a soulless void of practiced regulations for something that is not black or white because guess what everyone's different! and assuming the same thing works for everyone and that YOU know better than them (unless they're clearly obviously not doing well and are beyond helping themselves) is condescending as fuck!!!

#anti therapy #not really but i guess #anyway today my psychiat said i can quit therapy and that's finally someone my parents will listen to #good day #anyway therapy is really important and i think it's necessary to give it a sustained shot if you're in a position #where it either helps you or you don't have faith in yourself to get better #you need someone else an unbiased professional third party #you want a feedback loop and don't trust yourself #but it is NOT an all fit #i have friends who really didn't want to go to therapy and i kept pushing them even when it didn't work at first #and now they love it #but that's also because they NEEDED it #now it's just. oh you're sad i don't want you to be sad but i don't want to hear about your problems so go to a therapist #x am rambles #also therapy only works if you put in the work #you can't force people into it

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opossum-by-night · 1 month

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I love when he's struggling and I'm trying to help and I'm asking him what I can do (because I don't want to make things worse by guessing wrong) and he can't/won't tell me and so I guess and that makes it worse because I guessed wrong and then we're just both upset and then he falls asleep and once I'm alone I spiral and go to him for reassurance and he's suddenly so positive and sweet now that he's half-asleep and I still don't know how to help him next time this inevitably happens 🙃🙃🙃

It's literally a trap and I fall for it every time. Not an intentional one - he doesn't like it either - but a trap nonetheless. But I can't just not interact because then I'm still worrying about it the whole time I'm not interacting anyway, plus then it feels like I'm not being there for him. But he can't seem to do any kind of introspection without it just turning into self-loathing so he can never actually figure out an answer to give me when I ask how to help him!!!! And he already has a lot of guilt about hurting me and stressing me out with his problems, so trying to articulate that this pattern stresses me out just feels like I'm contributing to the problem!!!!! What the fuck!!!!!!!!

#he has a therapist but he only sees her like every other week #and i dont even know if he talks to her about this shit anyway #every time i ask if hes talked to her about this he goes “not really” like BITCH WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT THEN??????#my therapist hears about this shit every single week!!!!!!#possum talk #raccoon talk #rant

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piplupod · 2 months

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why do counsellors think it's helpful to tell you "you shouldn't feel that way!" when you tell them something like "I am so stressed about spiders to the point where i have crying breakdowns thrice a week" or "I feel like I am somehow secretly a terrible person that needs to push everyone away to keep them safe from the rot that is inside of me"

like ... golly gee, thank you so much, that's soooo helpful, can't believe i never thought "wow! i shouldn't be feeling this way!" before, pretty crazy that you can just cure me with that one declaration!

#GIRL IF I KNEW HOW TO STOP FEELING THIS WAY I WOULD BE FINE !!! I WOULDNT BE TALKIN ABOUT IT WITH YOU #like okay yes. that is a good STARTING statement. but can u give me... something actionable perhaps. please.#instead of essentially just shaming me for my feelings hsdgjkl #i KNOW these feelings and thoughts are ''wrong'' and unhelpful and unhealthy and hurting me. but like... what do i DO with them...#''i feel like a bad person'' ''well you arent so you shouldnt feel that way :)'' ''....okay great thanks so much see you next week'' ?????#such wise words from a trained professional! /sarcasm #idk man i think that my stories and characters have been far more helpful in therapizing me than actual trained professionals ever have #these ppl do not know what to do with me it seems like #i get so frustrated every time i hear ''you're so self aware!'' bc that seems to be therapist language for ''idk what to do for you''#or ''i can't help you. you are beyond my capabilities as a trained mental health professional who went to school for years''#im TIRED. im so tired !!!#anyways im just dreading my appt later today fdjgkl i like this lady more than the last one but she hasn't been very helpful so far #starting to resign myself to the fact that maybe i am just too fucked up to be helped fdsjkl like man. im just stuck this way i guess #unless i can figure out how to fix me on my own then i think im just fucked #pippen needs 2nd breakfast

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theoldaeroplane · 6 months

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(pawing through the Hallmark cards) (muttering) where's the "i scored over my dr's diagnostic criteria for PTSD" section?

#more accurately cptsd but im american so im not allowed to have that as a real diagnosis #anyway i talked at length with my therapist about how i never know how to answer a lot of the ptsd screening questions #but i did my best not to minimize my symptoms---i have strikingly little memory of childhood #im frequently interrupted by thoughts of my childhood or parents #i will go way out of my way to avoid things that remind me of said childhood #etc #like i cant tell you how many times a day my brain does the equivalent of ramming a bowl of smelling salts under my nose #but i just never mentioned it bevause. i mean how do you do that.#how do you explain 'i saw a truck that looked a little like my dad's earlier and it ruined my day'#'oh did your dad do something to you or did something bad happen in the truck?'#'uh .... not .... really...?'#anyway idk. it was sort of a relief to hear i scored over the You Are Fucked Up threshold

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ghouljams · 8 months

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Alright!! Here's the end of the first act of the Medieval AU, in which I hit poor reader with a stick multiple times and Knight!Ghost makes it better.

TW: this handles some stuff around sexual assault/sexual trauma, virginity politics, and period typical misogyny

You’ve always thought of sex as something that will be forced on you. Dreading your marriage night has become the norm for you. Even before Ghost came into your life. Though after his entrance it came to mean so much more than just an unpleasant night. It’s losing Ghost, losing the spare hope that somehow you could be his. Because you think if it was with him it might be nice. The way he touches you, the way he takes care of you, he’s kind, terribly so. He’s good to you, he’d be good to you.

Ghost presses his lips against yours, gentle pressure you instantly crave more of. He turns your head to kiss your cheek, your jaw, to press his nose against your pulse and breathe you in. His fingers in your hair direct you as he likes, and you’re more than willing to let him. Your eyes are heavy, everything wonderfully soft and ever so slightly out of focus. You run your hands over his bare shoulders, feel the firm muscle, trail them up to feel his jaw as he kisses your neck.

“You’re beautiful,” He whispers to you, his voice low in your ear. Your stomach clenches, your skin prickling with heat. Ghost’s hands are so gentle with you, exploratory as they run down your sides and up your stomach. His lips follow them over your chest, making you squirm and press into his touch.

“My lady,” He presses his words into your skin. His, you think, just his for as long as he’ll have you. No one matters like him, no one holds you like him, keeps you like him. You want him to keep you. You want to be his, greedily, you want him to be yours too. It’s not a quality you’re supposed to have. You aren’t supposed to want like this.

You aren’t supposed to dig your fingers into his shoulders, not supposed to let your legs fall open when he nudges his knee between them. “Just like that Princess,” He tells you, his voice raspy in a way that makes heat bloom over your cheeks, “spread your legs so everyone can see what a selfish little whore you are.”

Your head is jerked to look at the crowd of shadows gathered around you, their eyes so wide and watchful you don’t know how you didn’t feel them raking over your exposed skin before. You feel panic well in your chest, grabbing the sheets quickly to try and cover yourself. You scramble away from Ghost and he lets you, hardly bothered by your rapid breaths or the tears quickly gathering in your eyes.

“They already think you’re ruined,” He doesn’t sound like Ghost, voice cruel and taunting, “All because you value a knight over the only thing you’re good for.” His eyes aren’t Ghost’s, the shifting and changing shape and color, his face flickering through your previous suitors. “He won’t want you anyway once you’re sold, he doesn’t even want you now,” His hand grabs your cheeks between rough fingers and you push at his face- their many faces- you don’t like this, you don’t like this, you don’t- “Are you really so stupid as to think he’d protect you from your husband. This is your duty princess, and his is not to interfere.” Their hands push between your legs.

Your sobs shake you awake, heaving, trembling things. You scorn propriety and wail. Let the whole castle hear you, you don’t care. You’re a horrible princess, a terrible, selfish, greedy thing that hardly deserves the title. You know all of this, and yet you still sob because you want Ghost. You want your knight, you want the man that’s slowly leading you to ruin. The man that’s planted an altar of thorns around your heart and laid his kindness upon it like a lamb to slaughter. You want him to hold you and tell you it was all lies. That he wants you like you want him.

You sob, feel the fat tears roll down your cheeks and fall on your blankets. You sob, feel it scratch your throat raw, your chest barely expanding enough to compensate for the despair that rattles out of you. One of your nightly guards comes into the room to check on you and you scream at him. Force the sound out of you like a banshee until it rips your vocal cords. You hope it shreds them.

What a picture you’d make then.

What a picture you must make now.

The guard leaves in a hurry, apparently having deemed you safe from external threats, but mad enough not to stick around. It feels good to scream. You do it again, and again, curling in on yourself as you clutch your pain to your chest. The world can fall away like this, leave you to your self infliction. Who cares. It’s all bullshit anyway.

"How long has she been like this?" The voice is furious, unfamiliar. You’ve never heard anyone that mad in your life. You can barely hear the reply over your hiccuping sobs. You don’t want people in your room, you don’t want them to see you like this. Not when you feel like a child throwing a tantrum. Some part of you is still clinging to decorum even now. How well trained you are.

“Get out!” You shout, reach behind you to grab a pillow to throw blindly at the intruder.

Big warm hands grab you and pull you from your misery, wild brown eyes dart over you searching for injury. Ghost pushes your hair from your face, and you scream at him the same as you screamed at your night guard.

He’s not wearing his mask, in the back of your mind you wonder if he came here like that. He pulls you against his chest, presses your face to his shoulder to stifle your screaming. His frame curls over you, shielding you from the world you were trying to drown out. You can feel the rapid expanding and contracting of his chest, his breath quick, as he drops his head to your shoulder. You wonder if he ran here.

“I’m sorry I was late,” He tells you, and you fall apart again.

The way you shake and curl up in his arms, guarding yourself against whatever hurts you, breaks his heart. His poor love. Ghost wraps his arm more tightly around your shoulders, holds the back of your head as he turns to kiss your temple. “You’re alright,” He whispers, “I have you, you’re safe.” Your sobs feel like a full body effort. Each one wracks your chest and forces the air from your lungs. He can feel your tears soaking through his shirt. God, you- you’re safe. You’re safe.

He repeats it to himself, presses his lips to your cheek, your shoulder, keeps you held as tightly as he dares. He’d seen the maids running from your room for the court physician, and assumed the worst. Assumed you’d been screaming due to some grave injury, that he’d find you bloody, and- But these were just tears, anyone should have been able to help you through your tears. How long had you been screaming alone? How long had you been left to deal with your pain while others whispered about sedation?

Ghost feels his anger bubbling again, feels the hot licks of fury against his ribs as your sobs settle into gentle hiccups. You don’t need his anger right now, but it will come. Later. Now he does his best to keep his voice from shaking, to keep it gentle for you.

“Tell me what happened.” So that he can take his revenge on whatever hurt you.

Your breath shudders. “You let them touch me,” you sob, your hands desperate where they hold onto his shirt. Ghost’s heart stops, he feels his grip on you tighten more than wills it.

“Never,” He growls, forcing himself to look at the remaining staff in your room, “No one is coming near you.” It’s a threat, he means it as a threat. He’s never felt more dangerous than he does in this moment. Never felt more sure of his own deadly precision. At least your court lady is smart enough to usher the rest of the nervous onlookers out of the room. “Who touched you?” He watches the door shut tight, tries to keep the anger out of his voice. Who the fuck would be stupid enough to touch what was his?

“I-” You hesitate as Ghost slides his thumb against your tear stained cheek, “I want to be selfish.” Your poor hoarse voice, he’s almost willing to let you change the subject when you sound like that. Screamed yourself raw, and they all let you.

“Who touched you princess?” He asks again.

“No one,” Your voice raises and breaks without your willing it to.

“No one,” Ghost repeats, feeling his shoulders drop with relief.

“What would you do if they did?” You ask him, and he knows exactly what he’d do, “Nothing.” Ghost stills. “You’ll throw me to my wedding night the same as the rest. Give me up as is your duty and ask me to forget every time you’ve touched me. How can you ask me to forget that, when every time I touch you I ache for the next time you’ll let me close? How can you hold me like this before you throw me to the wolves?”

Blood rushes in Ghost’s ears, his breaths short as he listens to you swallow your heart. No. He’s not so noble as to give you up like that. He imagines it, how chivalrous he’ll be letting you go. But he knows. He’s not a noble man, not kind, not half as honorable as he pretends to be. He can’t leave you in anyone else’s hands. No one else can have you, no one deserves you. Not when they’ll let you scream yourself hoarse. Not when their first thought is to sedate you in your grief. No. He knows.

He’d kill your husband before he ever reached your wedding bed.

He tips your head back and kisses you. You all but melt against him, your soft lips wet with your tears, sweet and salty. And warm. You’re so warm. How could he ever delude himself into thinking he could give you up? You’re right. You slide your lips against his with a sigh, and all he can do is ache for the next gentle kiss you give him.

#cod x reader #simon ghost riley #x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #knight!ghost #princess!reader #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #medieval au #when you only hear about how awful sex is and how it's your duty to give it up #you tend to develop some complicated feelings about it #I was explaining this whole chapter to my therapist and she was like #woah and people like when you write this?#no but it's cathartic for me so I'm writing it anyway

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axewchao · 3 months

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(◉u◉)

SINCE WHEN WERE YOU THE ONE IN CONTROL?

Since I woke up and remembered that I was the adult here. That's when.

Now put your shoes on and grab some snacks, kiddo. You're going to therapy.

#Undertale #Chara #hey look it's cartoon me #wouldn't call this 'me in undertale' though #this is more 'me as The Player' if you catch my drift #anyways it took four tries before we found a therapist that could handle Chara's 'nightmare face' and past-#guess coming back to life as a self-proclaimed demon is a bit much for folks to hear about-#axewchaoscribbles #axewchao answers

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unclescrunkle · 2 months

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once a lonely little girl, always a lonely little girl

#poetry #i just wrote a poem about this and i usually share my poems with my friend and she shares hers with me but theres like 3 lines about her so #probably shouldnt show her the poem huh #its really good tho so I'll probably show my therapist #my therapist will be hearing about this #my therapist loves me #anyways #inner child #there is absolutely nothing lonelier #poor baby #i want to hug her #childhood #girlhood #womanhood #how i love being a woman #i love awae should i rewatch for the 100th time #i yap too much #writing

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sassygwaine · 5 months

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there is actually something wrong with me and that's also fine??

like when i was a kid/teenager with several health, mood, and developmental issues, it was years and years and years of being told "nothing's wrong with you, that's normal, everybody does that, you'll grow out of it, you're just a normal kid" and then look at that, i grew into an adult with several health, mood, and developmental issues

normal is fake, "normal" is a set of ever-moving goal posts set by any given person/group at any given moment to justify why they feel disgust or revulsion or pity or shame, normal isn't real

and also, there's shit that i actually legitimately struggle with that causes me a lot of stress and distress that are things innate within myself that will never change, some of which, in fact, will get worse as i age, and they're things that other people don't have to deal with

a lot of these things could have been mitigated when i was younger if somebody had just listened to me with the intent to help me instead of just to shut me up

no, it was always the insistence that i was normal, that nothing was wrong, then, further, that i was making it up, that i was just looking for attention

and maybe a lot of how i expressed myself was looking for attention, but when you're in pain all the time and feeling more like a gutted pig than a human and the people you're supposed to trust with your life tell you that nothing is wrong with you and go back to ignoring you, what else could you try to get but some fucking attention?

so anyway, there is something wrong with me, several somethings, and i'm unraveling a bit more each day (in some very good and cathartic ways, some very truthful, painful, and growing ways) and figuring out how to actually care for all of the little parts of me that are trying to get my attention, and i don't think any of that is a bad thing

#nothing wrong with normal #normal's great #“that's a normal emotional response to that kind of situation” = very validating to hear and often immediately reduces panic #okay caveats over #been feeling particularly crazy these days and i am tired of pretending that's a bad thing???#i'm managed i'm healthy i'm talking to my therapist and taking care of myself #there's still shit that comes up that i truly cannot handle #anyway i'm less concerned about being normal and more concerned about being abnormal and treated with dignity

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