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#but now hes just like tired as fuck and sick of it all and he's resorting to sarcasm as a coping mechanism
faetima · 3 days
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THE AVEN + HANAHAKI THING YESSS I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS FOR SO LONG BECAUSE LIKE. I know it's always super angsty when it's the reader that gets hanahaki but rine having it. imagine pushing your s/o away because you don't think you can do a relationship rn just to get hit by the stupid idiot in love disease. damn sucks to be you man
(tbh hanahaki as fun as the angst is I love aventurine so much and usually just alter hanahaki to be like less deadly because a) I DONT WANT TO BE SAD and b) the whole guilt of "I developed hanahaki because of you now love me or I WILL die" feels strange to me)(but also yum angst and the consequences of pushing someone away) ((sorry I talk a lot teehee okay bye))
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𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫. 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠. .
. . too bad he wasn't your darling anymore.
// tws ; slight cursing, blood ; gn reader ; modern au, hanahaki au 
a/n: finally wrote the aventurine exes hanahaki au lol ,, had no idea how to finish this but i might make a part 2 !! :3
ever since you had started dating aventurine, you felt like you were a burden to him in some way. but you were never sure if you were actually a burden to him, or if that was your mind playing tricks on you.
but last week had just solidified your beliefs.
you both had fought over something petty--you couldn't be bothered to remember what it was--and harsh words had been thrown around in the process.
words that cut deep into you, practically making you bleed out.
and after that?
aventurine had ignored you for the rest of the entire week. he hadn't even glanced in your direction. it was fine if he needed some space to think, but he didn't even tell you, he just started fucking ignoring you.
your efforts to talk to him had just been met by blank uninterested violet eyes.
everything that happened in the last week had all led up to yesterday.
you stood in front of his door, swallowing your nerves. why were you so nervous?
after everything that happened, everything you felt, everything he said, you didn't think you could handle a relationship at that point.
so, when aventurine answered the door, his blonde hair unruly and lavender eyes tired, you took a deep breath and finally said the words you had been so scared of saying.
"i want to break up."
--
now, you were rethinking your decision.
on one hand, it felt like a large weight had been lifted off your shoulders.
on the other hand, breaking up with him had left you in your current predicament: crouched on the cold tiled floor of your apartment, hurling up bright yellow marigolds. you coughed them up, unwillingly watching as they hit your newly polished floor. they hit the ground ungracefully, clumped together with a disgusting mixture of mucus and blood. you gagged on the flowers as the sickly sweet smell of the marigolds hit you, making you feel lightheaded and sick to your stomach.
you didn't think you would get the disease again after aventurine asked you out.
you had it once, albeit briefly. it was before you had even talked to aventurine, too scared to do so. maybe it had been your shyness, or maybe you were just scared of rejection. you weren't too sure which, but it had caused you to cough out a few lemon yellow petals.
but, as quickly as the disease had started, it had ended. aventurine talked to you and started getting close to you, and your hanahaki had eventually diminished into nothing. after that, you thought it would never start again.
but you guessed you were wrong, since the disease decided to plague you.
marigold petals--slick with mucus--fell out your mouth as you coughed your lungs out. they fell almost gracefully onto the small flower pile.
you took fast and shaky breaths, collapsing. you were too exhausted to move, the hanahaki sucking all the life out of you.
--
it had been a week now, and the disease had just gotten worse. at this rate, it would only take a month or two until you suffocated on the fucking marigolds.
you could talk to aventurine, but he would probably just ignore you again.
you could get the surgery, but you would rather die than forget aventurine. you still loved him.
at this point, you couldn't do anything but hope that the disease would just somehow go away.
--
aventurine was growing increasingly worried as the days passed.
he hadn't seen you at all after you had broken up. sure, that was normal, but his gut told him something was wrong.
horrible thoughts of what could've happened to you plagued his mind, and he couldn't take it anymore.
he grabbed his keys, his coat, and headed towards your apartment.
maybe it was an invasion of privacy, but even your friends felt as if something were terribly wrong. he'd just check on you once, and never speak to you again. you'd be okay with that, right?
--
aventurine had knocked about a dozen times by now, but had received no answer.
he swallowed. he still had a spare key to your apartment, but what if you didn't want him to come in? what if you were just busy? what if he was breaching your privacy?
he took a shaky inhale.
fuck it.
--
he stepped inside your apartment, and was hit by the extremely potent smell of marigolds.
he glanced around, and froze at what he saw.
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quimichi · 5 hours
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≡;- ꒰ °HOW THEY EAT YOU OUT ꒱ - MDNI
Pt. 1
TW: sexual content,
SUMMARY: how 6 hsr guys eat you out ♡
CHARACTERS: Argenti, Arlan, Aventurine, Blade, Boothill & Caelus x F!Reader
WORD COUNT: 812
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Argenti
“Yes, that's it my rose. I don’t think i will ever get tired of this sight.”
Despite how he many times he's seen you like this - Argentis cheeks will flush a beautiful red and his chest is rising and falling quickly. You are utterly beautiful. His fingers pushe more slick out of you, and he can’t help but lean in to lap it up, humming at the taste of you along his taste buds that the movement grants him.
“Such a delightful taste....hah- is this all it takes to make yoi quiver?” he can't help but close his eyes as he buries himself deeper between your folds. You're ’re so sensitive. His fingers keep their pace and when you throb around his slender digits he can’t help but moan into you, he feels it just like you. “Don't be scared my love, as your boyfriend it's my duty to make you cum.”
Arlan - aged up!
“oh-!” he's doing all this for the first time, he can't help but be just as surprised with his actions like you. You have to bite your lip, he's way to cute right now, and does it way to well.
Arlans nose knocks against your clit a second later, followed by him lewdly slurping at the bundle of nerves like he’s kissing it better from the soreness.
He felt like he is on cloud nine and it only makes him feel even better when he feels you begin to tense. You're so close, he can feel it, and hear it. It’s almost immediate the way he feels your thighs begin to wrestle against him as you desperately try to close your legs at the pure pleasure.
“Gonna make you cum, gonna make you cum real good”
Aventurine
You feel the way he smiles against your pussy, teasingly. He knew he'd make you beg for it in under 5 minutes. “heh- now that was easy, wasn't it.” he sends another kiss against your clit, breathing heavy against your folds as his fingers move to spread you open, making more space for him. God, sometikes he just wants to shove his faces as deep as he can into your wet and warm pussy and stay there.
His eyes are on you the entire time, watching you with lidded eyes as he licks from bottom to top again, smirking like a mad man.
“Damn, loon at you darlin', all puddy in my hands."
Blade
“What did i tell you? Hold fucking still.” Blade grits his teeth. He pulls away from your wet cunt to glare up at you, lowkey makes you scared. You’re so close, so damn close, the last thing you want is him pulling away. With the last bit of self control you got left, you try your best not to squirm around. You know better than to disobey him.
He’s messy and merciless when he eats your pussy. Hes covered, nose to chin with your juices. He closes his lips around your clit, giving it a harsh suck. He’s exploring your pussy with his tongue before it’s swirling around your clit with the purpose of prolonging your blissful state, watching you with heavy eyes as he feels himself get turned on by the expression on your face. You can't help but whine, you want to cum.
"Patience...patience..."
Boothill
His arms wrapped around your thighs leaving you helplessly trapped in this sick game of him over stimming you till you can’t anymore. Tears couldn’t help but fall from your eyes as you begged him that it was just “t-too much”. But you weren’t convincing enough. After all your hips were bucking into his face when you were just so close to cumming again, leaving you whiny and breathless after each time.
Can't be to much when you're this needy — “f-fuck.. i c-can’tplease” your voice shaking, desperately you run your hands through his soft hair to pull him even closer despite your words.
“what a fucking liar you are...”
Caelus
The way his fingers come down on your clit, slapping the bud quickly, he stares at you from between your thighs. He’s watching the way your pussy swallows up two of his fingers.
“You truly are so pretty.” Caelus whispers almost love drunk. You feel too hot, you're sweating, like he’s worshipping you from where he’s resting on his knees at the end of the bed, leaving your hips to hang from the mattress so he can have you. He holds your thighs in his hands, gripping them hard so he can contain himself. He feels like hes getting mad, crazy at your taste. His tounge fucks itself in and out of your hole, almost like it has a mind on its own. His eyes roll back into his skull, is he liking this more than you?
"More, want more of you, pretty girl."
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TAGLIST: @hehothrowawayfae @lucienbarkbark @theblades
Wanna be added to my taglist? Scream HERE! and next time I'll add you! Moots only ♡
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thecreelhouse · 2 days
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pray, but heaven won’t let you back
Paring: vampire!Steve Harrington x fem!Reader
Summary: Since the night Steve lost control, he’s been pushing away, afraid to hurt you again. You’ll do anything to convince him you still trust him, even giving into the bloodlust he’s tried to avoid. || fic inspired by this post.
WC: 3k
CW/Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, language, vampire nonsense/lore, blood play & blood sucking/feeding (nothing gory but still be cautious if you’re squeamish), mutual masturbation, dirty talk, lots of fluff and aftercare at the end
this is a modern vampire AU! can (kinda) be read as a standalone, but it’s a follow up to love’s the death of peace of mind and the bitter and the sweet.
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A/N: i will never get sick of vampire!steve, so here’s another lil fic based off this post i saw earlier lmao. song title & lyrics are from worship - ari abdul. enjoy babes <3
pretty when you say my name like that / feel your lips trace down my neck / darlin', don't say nothin', just breathe pretty when you're looking up like that / pray but Heaven won't let you back / good on your knees
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
It took one close call to push both you and Steve to question if you were right for one another. One slip up, where his lust for your blood called to him louder than usual; louder than your moans he earned through a skilled tongue you never grew tired of.
It took one close call for Steve to become rigid, self discipline at its height in your relationship.
It took one close call to set your desire in stone; you wanted Steve to turn you, wanted to join him in an eternity of a life you once believed wasn’t real. 
Blood play wasn’t foreign before that night, but it was always controlled, always with moderation and care. Now that Steve lost control, even only for a minute, he didn’t trust himself with you. He began growing distant, physically and emotionally, and it was burrowing under your skin, deeper and deeper as time carried on.
Steve still loved you, and though you could tell because of his avoidant behavior, it hurt. It was for your sake, your safety, and he made that clear; yet you were becoming lonely and agitated without his touch.
Even beyond lust, you just wanted him to hold you, and you wanted to hold him. You missed the way he’d play pretend, acting irritated when you’d kiss him one too many times on the cheek in a day. You longed for the way either of you would roll over in your sleep, searching for the other subconsciously. You felt like a stranger to him, a ghost in the walls of the home you shared with him.
Maybe you were foolish to believe this love could last; this all started with a Halloween party hookup, after all. Just another pathetic mortal that fell prey to a vampire’s charm.
You’re getting ready to go out with some friends when something breaks Steve, just enough for him to see he’s losing you, letting you slip through his fingers that once held you tightly with possession and protection.
Sitting at the vanity, the warmth of the lights lining mirror feels good on your skin. It’s not that you avoid the daylight for Steve’s sake; the lore of vampires burning up in the sunlight was nothing more than a myth. The sun does, however, irritate the fuck out of most vampires, still too bright, but bothersome in a sensory overload sort of way more than threatening. But since the night Steve lost control, and you began losing him, you rarely left bed these days.
You deserved to feel the warmth, any warmth, after receiving a cold shoulder from Steve for awhile now. You’ve lost track of the days he began to back away, but it’s far too long despite the specifics.
While you’re fixing your makeup, wrapped in a long, silky, dusty rose robe, Steve walks in; he’s surprised to find you not only up and out of bed, but all dolled up, too.
“H- hey, love.” He goes to lean against the doorframe, but miscalculates how close he is to the frame, falling into it instead. You stifle a laugh, watching his figure fumble in your peripheral vision as you dust blush along your cheeks.
“Hi.”
He holds his breath while crossing his arms over his chest, waiting for a follow up with an expectant smile; it falls flat when you continue to ignore him.  
“So… going somewhere?”
You still won’t look at him, another response multitasked as you work on your eye makeup. “Uh-huh.”
Steve’s eyes catch on the deep red, silky dress you have waiting for a night out, hung up on the door by its hanger. “Th- you’re going out in that?” He remembers gifting it to you for the holidays, joking he could never let you out of his sight if you wore it in public; he trusted you, but surely not any men around you. 
Now, you’re planning on wearing it for the first time while out with your friends, and not him. Jealousy bubbles up within him.
“Your observational skills are great, Steve.” Your response is so harsh; even you feel bad for giving the frost right back to him. 
“Thought you’d save it for one of our date nights,” He grumbles, like a child. You finally glance over at him, eyes narrowing as they meet his.
“What, do I need your permission to wear it?”
“No, don’t twist my words.”
“Steve, this is the most you’ve talked to me in weeks.” You leave the vanity to change into your dress. With a quick tug of the tie of your robe, it slinks to the floor. Your back is to him, missing the way his jaw slacks to the floor at the sight of your lingerie set: a red, lacy set that hugs your curves deliciously; another gift from him, one without reason. “What, are you jealous? I’m done moping around and waiting for your attention.”
Steve loved showering you in gifts, especially in his favorite color— how typical of a vampire to love the color red; though you tried insisting you needed nothing more but him, he couldn’t help himself from spoiling you.
A groan slips out of him as two things push to the front of his mind:
He’s painfully aroused, tenting in his tight pants, in need of relief. 
That, and the bloodlust he’s been fighting since that close call is back, full force.
One minute, you’re reaching for the dress to change into, the next, he’s shoving you against the nearest wall. You gasp as he pins your arms above your head with one large hand easily holding both of your wrists. 
“Steve—“
“Might wanna text your friends, let ‘em know you’re running late.” He rolls his hips into yours roughly, earning the first pleasing sound from you tonight; you whimper and pout as his other hand grabs you by the chin, grip hard. “Oh, princess, am I throwing your night off?”
You can’t bring yourself to answer while his hand leaves your face, wasting no time to grope your chest with a cruel touch. You arch into his grip and mewl, eyes fluttering shut as he kicks your legs apart before slotting a leg against your core. Instinctively, you grind onto his thigh, heat already sticky through the lacy fabric you wear.
“Might not make it there at all, huh?” He’s mocking you, taunting you, and you’re infuriated. You’re pissed he’s pulling this after weeks of being distant, and you’re really pissed at yourself for instantly melting under his touch. 
Pushing through the haze of desire, you glare at him. “Steve, enough.”
“Oh, c’mon, since when are you not into—“
“I said enough.”
You’re trying to steady your breaths as you hold a cold stare with him; his features falter, hands releasing you before stepping back. 
“I’m sorry,” Any and all confidence is thrown out the window as he shrinks under your vexed gaze. “I- I— I’ve just— fuck. I fucked up, alright?”
You’re nowhere near as strong as him, yet when you push him back with your hand on his chest, he stumbles back. You push him again, and again, and once more, until the backs of his legs hit the bed, throwing his balance off. He falls back onto the mattress, panting lightly as his stare is fixated on you above him.
“You can’t do this shit, Steve. You can’t touch me when you want then leave me alone like nothing matters. I told you I’m not afraid of you, I trust you.”
“Yeah, and I cracked any trust by losing control—“
“Steve, this is who you are!” You reach out, cradling his head in your hands on either side of his face. He can’t resist leaning into your touch, guilt playing up on his features. “I’ve accepted that from the start. I’ve accepted the risk since the first night together. What I didn’t accept or agree to was being treated like a total stranger by the one I love most.”
“I know. I know. I just wanted to keep you safe. All I want is for you to be safe, and happy. All I want is for you to feel loved, and I hurt you instead. I’m sorry.” He sounds so pained, nuzzling into your palm while he grabs your arm, pushing your hand against his face harder.
Aside from the last few weeks, there have never been moments where you felt shoved away, or less than Steve. And now, it’s only happening because he thought it would protect you. Just the honest admission alone shows you he meant well, even if he hurt you. It wasn’t intentional, just like the night he lost control. He knows he hurt you, but it was never intentional.
You can tell Steve is fighting the instinctual hunger for your blood; his eyes are dark with desire, but teetering on the edge of falling into that deep red shade that could only signal trouble. His grip on your arm shakes as he restrains himself from overpowering you again.
You try to keep him with you, asking softly, “Make it up to me?”
“H- how? I’ll do anything, anything you want, love.” His breaths run shallow as you straddle his lap, hands snaking around to the back of his head; you gently push his face towards your neck, but he leans back. “I— okay, anything but— honey, I can’t.”
“You want to.”
“Doesn’t m- mean I should.” Steve is so conflicted; he wants this, he needs you. You want him, you need him, too. But it’s a risk with the odds against him.
“I’m giving you the green light, Steve.” You kiss his forehead, then his cheek, leading to his lips. Before you kiss them, you murmur, “I trust you.” 
He closes the gap with a frantic kiss, one arm slinking around your hips to your back, the other exploring your body clumsily. He catches your bottom lip between his teeth, fangs scraping along the skin. You yelp, and Steve stops.
“Love, we— this is—“ His gaze sinks deeper into that shade of red you once knew as a signal for danger, but you trust him. You know him. You know he’d never take it too far, not to a level where you couldn’t handle it. “You’re not— I’m not ready to turn you yet—“
“I didn’t expect that. I wouldn’t complain, but I promise that’s not what I’m asking for right now.” You roll your hips onto his bulge, strained under the tight fabric of his pants still. “I’m just asking you to trust me. Trust me, to trust you.”
Steve searches your gaze for any doubt, any signs of faltering or second guessing; there’s only certainty and adoration. You nod softly, encouraging him once more.
In a flash, you’re thrown to the pillows at the top of the bed, landing on them with a surprised laugh. Steve crawls above you, with a warm smile of his own, despite the red in his gaze. 
“You’ll stop me if—“
“Yes, yeah, just—“
He cuts you off with a rough kiss, fangs poking at your lips before he kisses along your jawline, trailing to your neck. When he reaches the crook of your neck, he sucks softly, earning airy moans from you while you grab him by his shirt. He laughs breathily into your skin, tickling you.
“Starting to think you like this more than I do,” He teases after pulling off your neck, spit with a hint of red dripping from the corner of his mouth. You nod with a dazed giggle, a sound he’s missed so, so dearly since pushing away. “I’m so sorry, love.” He ducks into your neck again, murmuring in between kisses, “You’re my everything.”
Stealing the spotlight from your answer, he tests the waters by sinking his fangs into your neck, ever so slightly. You gasp, arching up into him.
“Sensitive little thing,” He teases, kitten licking at the few drops of blood on your skin. He delves back in, sinking his fangs a little deeper. A sharp, pained gasp leaves your lips, and it’s almost enough to make him stop, but it dissolves into a satisfied moan. “What’d you think was gonna happen tonight? You’d find someone else?”
Here comes the possessive attitude you always crave. 
“N- no, don’t want anyone else but you.”
He’s lapping at the blood now, sucking intermittently as it flows out. He’s in such a heady daze, beginning to whimper into your skin.
“S’what I thought, princess.” He sucks stronger this time, groaning into you as he feeds. “Fuck, y’taste so goddamn good, love.”
You’re reaching the dizzy, intoxicating thrill achieved only when Steve takes you like this. The only sensation that has ever come close is when he chokes you, plays with your air and blood flows, but it’s never the same as when he feeds off your blood.
Giggly and growing lightheaded, the pain has become full pleasure to you at this point. “You ever cum from sucking blood?” The question is silly, to you, but not to Steve. He lets out a guttural moan, mouth still on your skin. The teamwork of his fangs in your neck, his lips sucking blood out, and his tongue soothing over the wounds make you whine and writhe underneath him. 
“Every time y’let me drink yours— f- fuck—“
You didn’t even notice his pants were finally down, halfway, at least; he’s fisting his cock, precum spilling onto you from his rosy, swollen tip while he continues to work at your neck. The noises he makes are pornographic at this point. You reach around to hold him, hand to the back of his head, cradling him close.
“Touch yourself, love.”
Obeying, your other hand slides down between the two of you, fingers finally meeting your clit. You lazily rub in circles, eyes fluttering shut with a blissed out smile. “Steve…”
“This turns you on just as much as it does for me, huh?” You always gonna be fucked out every time I drink from you?”
You nod, head in the clouds; the two of your hands continue to bump against one another every so often, setting off little grunts and whimpers. “Uh-huh…”
“Imagine h- how wrecked you’ll be when I…” His hips stutter as he continues jerking off. “… when I turn you. Might like sucking blood more than y’like sucking my cock.”
You gasp at his words, nodding wildly as he pulls back, looking down at you with devotion and desire.
“You doin’ okay, love?” Steve asks, shuddering, close to his high. “Can I- I- m’so close…”
You hum with a dopey smile, “Here,” is all you can manage to say as you pull your bra down, exposing your chest. Steve only lasts a second longer before he finally reaches his high, spilling onto your tits as he moans lowly, echoing against the walls. The sight of him coming undone above you, the feeling of his spend against your skin, the intoxication of losing blood, it’s all more than enough to follow him with your own climax. 
Moaning for only a moment, Steve pushes forward, crashing his lips into yours, melding together with the metallic taste of your blood on your tongue. When he pulls back, you’re left panting sleepily, fucked out despite only getting off from your own touch and his fangs in your neck.
“Love, you know it’ll be hard to turn you knowing I’d have to give this up, right?” You reach up to him, gently touching his face. He takes your hand in his, kissing the back of your knuckles softly.
“S’okay, we can wait a lil’ longer.” You watch the shade of red in his eyes settle into the calm, muted red they usually are. Before you can praise him for being successful in holding himself under control, he kisses you quickly.
“Stay here, gonna get some stuff to clean up,” He does exactly that, returning with towels to clean off with and a first aid kit. He hands over a water bottle to you, careful not to make you spill it as he runs his tongue softly along the wounds, healing them with ease as he’s done plenty of times before. The first aid kit is kind of useless by now, but he still properly cleans around the newly healed wounds.
When Steve finishes, he gently lifts your head up toward his, searching for any signs of distress. “How’re you feeling?”
“Sleepy.”
He nods, “No tingling or weird feelings like last time, right?”
“Right,” You smile, curling up next to him with a content sigh. “Can we take a bubble bath?”
“You’re half asleep,” Shaking his head, he chuckles, “I don’t want you to drown.”
“Says the guy who just stabbed my neck with his teeth.”
“Yeah, you’re fine. The sass is back.” Then he remembers, you had plans. “Hey, did you get to tell your friends you weren’t coming? Sorry for stealing your night, love.”
“I didn’t have plans, just was hoping that’d get your attention finally,” You snuggle even closer, resting your head on his chest. Meanwhile, he scoffs out a laugh as he finds out you tricked him. He couldn’t even be mad, though, because it worked. Breaking his thoughts, you mutter, “You did it, y’know.”
Steve’s brows furrow, “What’d I do?” He’s lost, assuming you’re babbling sleepily.
“Your eyes changed back. You didn’t lose control.” You’re falling into slumber fast. “I meant it when I said I trust you, Steve.”
He kisses the top of your head, arms holding you close. “I trust you, love. I’m so sorry I hurt you.”
You’re down for the count, only able to murmur back, “Love you, Steve.” He watches as your breaths fall low and steady, finding safety and comfort while the two of you are back where you belong— in each other’s arms.
Steve’s nowhere near ready to turn you, but when the time comes, he’s certain it’s part of both of your futures, intertwined into one. He knows now the two of you are meant to spend eternity together.
Until then, he’ll cherish this complicated love between human and vampire; he’ll cherish you as you are now, before that becomes a mere memory once he brings you over to his side of life.
Eyes growing heavy, Steve whispers to you, now fast asleep, “I love you, too. ‘Til the end of time.”
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Yanderes with a Darling that's in that fatigue state of depression (whether it's chronic or from being kidnapped) and don't really know how to deal with it. On the one hand, Darling lying in bed all day is perfect since they're not trying to escape. But they also think that if they make Darling happy the way they SHOULD be, then Darling will finally be "grateful" and see that they love their yandere
Tomura just drags them through a portal to do what he likes to do when he feels empty: destroy shit. They can't disentegrate things, so he just hands them a crowbar or a baseball bat and takes them to a junkyard he liked destroying when he was a kid. He also tries to fuck them to make them feel better, giving them oral or rubbing his cock against them until they cum.
He'd also let them be for a while, but not for multiple days. He knows a depressive spiral when he sees one. So he'll slip an antidepressant into their drink and force them to swallow it, make them drink water and bring them food. But he also has them lay in his lap while he games and won't make them get up too often.
Amai is annoyed at first. They're just...lying there, dark circles under their eyes, tired and poor quality skin, hunched up and ruining their posture. But he concedes that he's the only being in the world that could make self hatred and loathing look good, so that isn't Darling's fault. He would insist on giving them a spa day, if only so they don't have to feel and look as poorly on the outside as they do on the inside. Plus they're not going to object and he gets to use them like a doll for the whole day. He also doesn't get why this is their way of coping, since whenever he's depressed he just throws himself into his work. He can't lay around all day looking like a depressed, tired little...thing when he's got so many people who love him and depend on him! And now that he's starting to actually care about his Darling (in his own sick way), he can't stand to just do nothing and let THEM do nothing. It won't help.
He'd also use sex to try and coax them into feeling something, but it's more of an ego thing; if sex with HIM, where Amai Mask himself is focused entirely on your pleasure doesn't make you feel good, nothing will. Plus it makes him feel like he's helping them and even saving them from themselves instead of being the one responsible for why they're in such a state.
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Covid
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Y/N groans as she wakes up, grimacing at the immediate pounding in her head. She rubs her face, sighing. She lifts her head up enough, glancing back at the bed being empty. She frowns before grabbing her phone and seeing it's 1 P.M.
Y/N huffs, getting out of the bed, trudging out of the room. She shuffles to the bathroom, stopping when she finds Matt at the sink.
"Hey." She mumbles.
"Hey." He yawns. "I tested positive today. I can sleep on the couch or something." He offers.
"Too late." She sighs. "My head's killing me. I think I already have it."
"Fuck." Matt sighs. "Here." He grabs another test and gives it to her. He looks at her as she grimaces. "What?"
"I don't wanna do it." She whines.
"Y/N/N..."
"I hate it." She states. "I could stick up too far and it could get stuck."
"That won't happen." Matt argues.
"How do you know?" She retorts.
"Baby, I'm too tired to bicker right now. Do you want me to do it?" He asks. After a moment of consideration, she nods. "Okay." He mumbles, taking the test out. He grabs the swab and steps closer to her, the girl instinctively backing up to the counter. "Baby..."
"Can't we just agree I have it and not test me?" She pleads, giving him puppy dog eyes.
"No." Matt shakes his head. "It'll be fine. It's quick."
"That's what she said." Y/N says, weakly attempting to comfort herself with humor.
"Babe." Matt chuckles, rolling his eyes. "Be over before you know it." He promises, resting his hand on one side of her head. He moves the swab closer to her nose, about to go in, but she whines and leans back, holding her arms up as protection. "Sweetheart, come on. You can do it. You've done it before."
"I know, but I still hate it." She pouts.
"Just close your eyes and don't think about it." Matt says.
"What if you stick it up too far and it gets stuck?" She questions.
"I won't, I promise." Matt tells her. "Close your eyes. Breathe." He orders, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. He rubs the back of her scalp, fingers tangled in her hair. Y/N sighs, but closes her eyes, trying to focus on her breathing.
Y/N flinches when the swab goes up one nostril, whining.
"I know, I know." Matt mumbles. "Few more seconds." He takes the swab out and goes to the next nostril, repeating his actions. Y/N's whines grow a bit louder, resisting the urge to fidget.
"Almost. Almost." Matt promises, taking the swab out after a few moments. He puts the test back, setting his timer for 15 minutes.
"See? All done." He smooths some of her hair down. "You did great." He smiles, kissing her forehead. Y/N groans, leaning into Matt and he wraps her up in a warm hug.
They stay like that until the timer goes off, the two looking to see the positive test.
"I'll call Chris. Let him know we're infected." Matt says with a heavy sigh. "I hate being sick."
"Right there with you." Y/N mumbles, going to the kitchen to find something to eat, thankfully still having an appetite.
---
Y/N rubs her head as she wishes for the headache to go away. She stops when Matt walks in, rubbing his eyes.
"Need these?" Matt asks, resting his hand over the light switch. Y/N shakes her head and Matt turns the lights off, the TV still providing light so he can see his way to the bed.
He climbs in, getting under the covers.
"You feel okay?" Y/N asks.
"Bleh." Matt mutters. "You?"
"Bleh." She repeats.
Matt groans, rubbing his head.
"Want a head massage?" Y/N asks.
"No. No, you don't feel good either. It's fine." Matt says.
"I want to." Y/N says.
Matt looks her, his girlfriend giving him a look to let her take care of him.
"Okay." He mumbles. "You pick the movie."
Y/N quickly puts Shrek on, quietly humming along to "All Star."
Matt lays down, putting his head on her stomach, his arm wrapping around her waist. Y/N threads her fingers through his hair, combing through his curls for a few moments. She starts to massage his head, Matt letting out a hum of content.
---
The couple spent most of the day watching movies or sleeping. Matt played Fortnite sometimes while Y/N read or scrolled on TikTok.
Y/N is currently in bed, drifting in and out as Matt does whatever.
"Hey." He quietly calls, tucking some hair behind her ear. Y/N hums, opening her eyes just enough to see him. "Nick wants me to film while we're in here. You okay with that?"
"Mm-hmm." Y/N nods with whatever little strength she has.
"Okay. You need anything?" He asks, knowing her whole body has been aching since she woke up. She lightly shakes her head. "Okay. I'm gonna film something right now." He tells her and she gives him a thumbs up. Matt kisses her on the head before going to his desk.
Matt sighs as he starts recording.
"Movies, Fortnite, sleep. Movies, Fortnite, sleep. Movies, Fortnite, sleep." Y/N hears Matt talk to the camera. "I guess we're vlogging on our own. I was told to do this. I got a pounding headache, I don't know what to talk about I'm bored. Um..." He tries to think of what else to say.
As Matt starts to talk about the triplets' different room states, she finally drifts off into a deep sleep.
---
Y/N and Matt are eating, watching 10 Things I Hate About You.
"Does your head still hurt?" Y/N asks.
"A little. Medicine helped." Matt says. "You feel okay?"
"Barely." She mumbles, eating a fry. "Although, I do prefer this over a sore throat, so..." She shrugs.
After finishing, Matt goes to throw the trash out, returning after a few moments. He climbs back into bed, cuddling into Y/N, kissing her head.
"Are you gonna film anything else tonight?" She asks, looking up at him.
"No." He shakes his head. "Not much to vlog about." He chuckles making her weakly laugh. "This is much more relaxing. I'll worry about filming tomorrow."
"M'kay." She mumbles, cuddling more into his chest, his arms tightening around her.
---
Matt woke up feeling a little better, Y/N still feeling awful. She's watching TV while he walks around and films. He walks into the room, putting the camera on his desk.
"I'm gonna go clean the kitchen." Matt tells his girlfriend.
"I can help." She says, sitting up.
"Baby, you sound miserable." Matt frowns.
"I am, but I can still help." Y/N insists, getting out of bed.
"You don't have to." Matt says.
"I want to." She says, sniffing. "And then I wanna shower after. It might help me feel better."
"Okay." Matt nods. He kisses her on the cheek, holding her hand and leading her to the kitchen.
---
The two finish up in the kitchen and Y/N is wiping the fridge down, it being the last thing to be done. Matt comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist.
"Can I shower with you?" Matt asks, resting his chin on her shoulder.
"Are you trying to start something? Cause I'm really not in the mood." Y/N says.
"No." Matt softly laughs. "I just need a shower, too. And if we shower together, we don't have to go without cuddles. Plus, I know you like when I wash your hair."
"Okay." Y/N nods. Matt lowers his head, pressing multiple kisses to her neck.
---
Y/N shuffles around as she starts to wake up. She sighs, quickly noticing how only a couple of muscles ache instead of all of them. She reaches around the bed, frowning when it's empty. She lifts her head to look around, watching Matt count and walk back and forth.
"Are you officially losing it?" She asks, giving him a slightly concerned look.
"No." Matt says. "My health app pointed out I had less than 100 steps yesterday."
"And that means..." Y/N trails off.
"That I need to walk today." Matt says. "But I can't go anywhere, so I'm just doing them right here."
"Okay." Y/N mumbles, checking the time.
"Do you feel better?" Matt asks, continuing to count in his head.
"Mm-hmm. Most of my body doesn't hurt anymore. Little congested still." She smiles.
"That's good." Matt says.
"How do feel?" She asks, yawning.
"Better. Kinda stuffy." He says and she nods.
---
Y/N walks into the room after getting a snack to see Matt opening the blinds behind the bed and he's holding the camera in his free hand.
"Oh, the sun is... setting." Matt says. "I got, like, 20 minutes probably." He stares out the window for a few seconds before closing the blinds.
"So you decide to stop at 8 seconds?" Y/N asks.
"Can't say I didn't try." Matt says making Y/N quietly laugh.
---
Y/N lays cuddled into Matt's side, her head resting on his chest as they put Saltburn on. Matt wraps his arm around her, playing with her hair.
"Are you okay with me filming?" Matt asks. "We can stop cuddling while the camera's on."
"No." Y/N shakes her head, wrapping her arm around him. "I don't care."
"You sure?" Matt asks and she nods. She leans her head back, kissing his jaw before focusing back on the movie.
"All right, y'all. Saltburn is being continued right now." Matt tells the camera.
"First note I wanna take, if I ever got called a..." Matt points to the screen as one of the characters talk. "A bootlicker." Matt says. He shakes his head. "It's going down. It's going down immediately."
"Bootlicker." Y/N smirks.
"Absolutely not." Matt says as Y/N giggles. "Nope." He unwraps his arm, pushing her to the other side of the bed.
"Matt." She laughs.
"It is going down." He states, putting the camera down and sitting on his knees.
"No, it's not." Y/N laughs, hitting him with the wood log pillow. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. You're not a bootlicker." Y/N says, a few laughs still escaping her.
"That's strike one." Matt warns.
"Okay, honey." Y/N snickers.
---
The two are cuddled back up as they continue the movie. They get to the bathtub scene, Y/N's eyes widening as Barry Keoghan's character starts to slurp the liquid up.
"Ugh." She grimaces.
She glances up at Matt, seeing him stare in horror at the TV.
"I don't even really care about the semen part, I just care about whatever's in that fucking drain." Y/N mutters.
---
Y/N's jaw proceeds to slowly drop as the vampire scene continues. Her nose scrunches up when Oliver puts bloody fingers in his mouth. She grimaces when he smears it on her chest before smearing it on her lips.
Y/N looks away as the characters proceed to have sex, grimacing at the idea of any sort of blood being in her mouth or on her chest.
---
Y/N watches the funeral scene with a small frown on her face, cuddling into Matt more, fighting off her tiredness. She watches Oliver kneel on the grave, sobbing as he lies down.
They both grow a little confused when Oliver takes his shirt off and lays back down.
"Oh, my God." Y/N whispers as Oliver starts to unbuckle his pants and pulls them off. Her jaw drops as he thrusts into the ground, her eyes practically bulging out of their sockets. She glances over at Matt to find his similar look of horror.
"He pulled a Frank Gallagher." Y/N says, earning an erupt giggle from her boyfriend. "Imagine going to visit your dead grandma and you see that." She remarks making Matt laugh more.
---
"Good movie. Crazy concept. Good movie, crazy concept, very strange." Matt says. "Pretty good, though. Very strange. But pretty good."
"Think they got it." Y/N teases.
"Shut it." Matt says, putting his free hand over her mouth, muffling her giggles.
---
Y/N watches Matt do pushups, eating some macaroni and cheese she ordered.
"Can I sit on your back?" She asks as she takes a bite of her food.
"We can test it out." Matt says, lying on his stomach.
Y/N puts her food on the desk before going over to Matt. She carefully sits on his back, crossing her legs.
"This good?" She asks, wanting to make sure she's not hurting him.
"Yeah." He nods. "You ready?"
"Mm-hmm." She nods even though he can't see her.
Matt slowly and carefully pushes himself up, focusing on his breathing, and he lowers himself. He continues to do a few pushups with Y/N on his back before stopping.
"Okay." He mumbles. "I'm tired." He sighs. Y/N pats him on the head before climbing off him and retrieving her macaroni.
"You seem to feel good." Y/N comments.
"I feel great." Matt says making Y/N smile. "And you...?"
"I feel better." Y/N nods.
"It's because I made you walk back and forth." Matt says.
"Okay." Y/N rolls her eyes. She knows he's right, but won't admit it just to bug him. "It's also all the rest and medicine."
"Yeah, whatever." Matt kisses her forehead. "You know I'm right." He grins.
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hey-i-am-trying · 2 days
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ME RANTING ABOUT MISINFORMATION ABOUT BAGI AND WHAT NOT
A missing piece people don't realize about the workers' murder arc is that Bagi was not all that bothered by the workers' death at first, she was more worried about how Cucurucho would retaliate and also by the cannibalism, because yeah, cannibalism doesn't exactly scream mental health.
It was seeing the grief of the living workers that changed her profoundly, it filled her with guilt. And I cannot help but think of young Bagi who didn't have a body to bury, didn't have closure, and refused to even acknowledge the possibility that her brother was dead, being so moved by such an open sight of mourning.
Bagi ran herself stressed not knowing a way to help Cellbit AND stop the murders, she refused any solution that would harm him, she went after talking with people who were close with Cellbit and whom she also trusted to not turn information to the Feds. I am sick and tired to people saying "Bagi told random people about the murders". List of islanders Bagi actually told: Roier, Bad, Pac, and Mike. All who were in one way or another connected to enigmas themselves. People who she knew had more information about Cellbit past or that she thought deserved to know for their own safety.
Bagi never called Cellbit a monster or even insinuated he would hurt the eggs, I really don't know where this misinformation came from. In the separate scenes of Bagi and Bad confronting Cellbit they were they quite literally saying he was more than a murderer, and that he was being consumed by his history of violence
(Also, I get it that watching your blorbo drown in blood is fun and all. But like, did you watch Cellbit's story and believe he turned back into a murderer and being brought back to the violent cycle he was forced into is a good thing? Did watch him seeing his childhood room for the first time and asking himself what he did to deserve to be taken away from his family and made to kill people to be able to survive? Did you see that and then when he told Bagi he didn't care if he died again because he died enough time and did not get that Cellbit murdering people is also him losing grasp on the importance of life itself? Did you not get that this was not a developing arc for him? This was him at his fucking worst after having the best things in his life taken again, again and again. Murder was not enrichment for him, it was a poison that killed parts of him too)
Anyway. That is for now. I think. Just a lot of shit I needed to get out of my chest.
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f0point5 · 2 hours
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You’re an amazing writer!!! Please do a piece about Emilia being the WORST patient when sick.
Like idk she’s sick during summer break or something but refuses to be sick and is all “I’m not sick!!!” but then it becomes unavoidable so she just becomes the absolute worst sick patient and makes all these crazy demands and stuff and max is just very amused.
Thank you 🫶🫶🫶
I hope you like where I went with it!!!!
✨Set in Australia 2023✨
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(He’d build) a fire just to keep me warm
You don’t get sick. So when you wake up on the morning of Australian Grand Prix with a churning stomach and a tightness in your throat for the third day in a row, you take an ibuprofen and a lozenge and get on with it. You fill yourself with orange juice for the vitamin C and even say no when Daniel offers you some TimTams, but you power through.
Sure, you’re tired, but that’s just the jet lag, and you’re a little dizzy, but that’s just the fact that you haven’t eaten properly. You’ll be fine by the time the race starts. That’s what you tell yourself, and everyone in the garage, when they point out that you look uncomfortable.
“This weather is making me all sweaty,” you complain, fanning yourself with spare Red Bull cap even though you’re not even hot, just clammy.
“You’re sweating because you’re sick,” Max tells you, collecting his gloves and water bottle from the small cubby hole behind you.
You glare at him. For the past two days he’s been fussing around you, worried that you have the same thing he had before Jeddah. Even though you’ve been nowhere near as sick as he was. What’s making you feel ill is the hovering.
“Remember when I was sick last week I was sweating all night,” he says pointedly and you roll your eyes.
“And here I thought you’d just found the only Saudi porn channel,” you tease, and Max drops his worry to laugh, which you like. “And I’m not sick. I don’t get sick.”
“Except now,”
You nudge his shin with your foot. “Max, shut up.”
“See, if you weren’t sick, I’d be pissed off with that attitude,”
“Max, she’s not well, be nice.” GP says as he takes the space next to you by Max’s helmet shelf. His eyes narrow as he looks at you. “Do you want someone to take you back to the hotel? You’re looking very pale,”
“No, I’m fine,” you say, harsher than you meant to as you take Max’s water bottle out of his hand. “Just need a drink,”
“You can’t drink from that, you’re sick,” GP argues in shock.
You make a point of unknotting the straw, opening the cap, and taking a long sip of coconut water which frankly tastes like lukewarm bilge water.
You swallow with a small wince and the water actually turns your stomach more. GP looks disgusted, while Max just looks slightly amused as you hand him the bottle.
“I’m not sick.”
****************************
You don’t get sick. So you resist the urge to tell every paddock photographer that stops to take pictures of you sitting with Daniel outside Red Bull hospitality to fuck off. You’re not looking your best by any stretch, and you are starting to come round to the idea that it might be more than the heat. Not illness, per se. Just feeling slightly under the weather, desperately in need of a spa day. You’re fine. Just too spoilt and under pampered lately. It’s a dangerous combination.
“Why are you outside?”
You turn towards the voice to see Lando and Max making their way towards you, fresh from the driver’s parade and already sporting a sun kissed glow.
You’re out there because the fresh air feels like it’s helping, and they’re serving lunch inside. Despite being so hungry you can feel it in your bones, your stomach was protesting idea of food, and the contradiction of your insides was worsening your headache.
But you’re not going to tell Lando all that.
“What happened to you?” He says when they reach your table, a quizzical look on his face. “You look like shit,”
“Thanks,” you tell him, raising your middle finger.
“Lando, don’t be a dickhead. She’s sick,” Daniel chides, winking at you as if that was him having your back.
You groan. “I’m not sick.”
“I think she has the stomach flu I had last week,” Max chips in as he pulls out the chair beside you and sits down.
“Can you get stomach flu from sex?” Lando asks.
“Yeah, like crabs,”
You smack Daniel in the arm and debate reaching for Lando but can’t find the strength to move. “It never stops being fun being the only one in the room who has ever attended a biology class,” you say dryly, unfolding the pair of sunglasses clinging to your shirt and putting them on.
“Anyway, we haven’t…” Max says, clearing his throat as you all look at him. He gestures to you vaguely. “You know, so,”
The boys laugh like they don’t believe him even though they do, and you roll your eyes even though no one can see.
“I can always count on you to focus on the important part, Max, thank you.” You say, reaching over to pat his thigh.
That sets the boys off laughing again.
Jesus, why is it so cold all of a sudden. Are there sweat patches on my shirt. I think I’m going to be sick. No. No, I’m not. Because I’m not sick.
You don’t really pay attention to what they’re talking about after that. The pounding in your head gets worse and it’s hard to follow along with the conversation. You feel like every inch of you in stuffed with cotton balls. Through all of it, you feel Max’s hand on your back, his fingers tapping a gentle rhythm. It’s something he only down you’re sick, and not you’re not sick so you should tell him to stop.
You don’t.
******************************
You don’t get sick. The garage is just ridiculously noisy today. It’s so noisy that you have half a mind to see if one of the wheel guns can be used to drill a hole in your head and let out some of the pressure. It’ll be okay once the race starts. You’ll put on some headphones and take another painkiller and it’ll be fine.
“Are you sure you don’t just want to stay in the hospitality?” Max asks.
You’re loitering with him for the last few minutes before he has to get to the grid. Normally you’re teasing him by waving a snack he can’t eat in front of his face or discussing dinner plans, but today you can’t muster the energy, and the thought of food is a step too far.
“You really don’t look okay,��
You feign offence, smacking a hand against your chest with a gasp. “And just think, today is the day I was finally going to give you a good luck kiss,”
“Now I know you’re really sick,” Max snorts, and the offence isn’t as fake this time.
“I’m not sick,” is all you say in response.
“I thought you liked being sick,” he says, slipping his arms into this race suit to shrug it on. “You get to be even more demanding than usual and I can’t even say anything,”
“Yeah, but not…”
Not when Max needs to win this race to stay ahead in the championship. Not when for the last week he’s been recovering from the last of his own illness as well as dealing with several media attacks on everything from Checo edging him out for the championship, to Jos’s reaction to his loss in Jeddah.
You don’t finish the sentence. This is not the time to bring any of that up, just like it’s not the day to be sick.
“Max, I’m fine,” you insist, noting the way his jaw is ticking. Whether he’s worried about you or the race you can’t tell. “And I’m not demanding,”
He scoffs. “Sure,”
He picks up his balaclava, but doesn’t it on right away. He runs a hand through his hair, looking at you and then out to the track and back again.
“If you feel bad just for back to hospitality, or even go and-“
“It’s a couple of hours, less if you drive like I know you can. I feel fine, I promise,” you tell him. Normally, you’d hug him, but you hesitate, shoving your clammy hands into your back pockets. “Now go destroy Checo’s hopes and dreams,”
He laughs at that as he pulls his balaclava over his head.
“I’ll see you at parc fermé,”
*****************************
You don’t get sick. So when Max finishes first after what feels like the longest, choppiest race in history and heads over to his team only to find you missing, he worries. He high fives the engineers with a full smile, wondering if you just decided to stay inhospitality after all. Because you’re not well. He knows you’re not well. When he saw you before the first restart you looked unsteady on your feet, and now you weren’t even there.
It’s Helmut who tells him, over the cacophony of cheering, that you had gone to lie down after the second red flag. Max immediately feels his chest tighten.
He remembers how bad he felt all week when he’d come down with whatever that was. He remembers feeling like his lungs had migrated somewhere else in his body and were being crushed. He remembers everything tasting awful. He remembers the shivering and the exhaustion. It was hell.
And right now, he wishes he could have it again just so you don’t have to.
He’s on autopilot through all the interviews. When he makes it back to Red Bull, he doesn’t find you in hospitality, or the garage. He heads to his driver room to get his phone to call you, barging into the room only to be greeted by the sight of you curled up on the small grey couch in a Red Bull hoodie, asleep.
Something in his chest eases, but only slightly. When he thinks of how bad you must have been feeling to not even finish watching the race and sleep through the noise of the podium celebrations, he gets even more worried. And when he thinks that you spent all that time alone in here because no one was there to take care of you, he feels like shit.
He crouches down in front of you, knowing that he has to at least know you’ll be okay for another couple of hours, because if you even hint at being in any discomfort he’s going to skip the race debrief. Your face is covered in a glow, your cheeks a little flushed, and your breathing is heavier than normal.
“Engel?” He says, his voice barely above a whisper, his hand gently shaking your shoulder. You let out a short groan. “Engel, du musst aufwachen. Es tut mir leid, schatz,”
Your groan again, but this time your eyes flutter open, and Max feels an almost ridiculous relief.
“Maxy?” You smile when your eyes open properly, and you lift your arms over your head to stretch, back arching. You look like Sassy after her mid morning nap. “Did you win?” It’s asked through a yawn as you settle on your side.
“Yeah,” he says, brushing some damp strands of hair away from your face.
“Good,” you say with a contented smile, but it only lasts a second before the pout is back. “Maxy, I’m sick,”
“I know, Leibling,” he says, fighting a smile. He shouldn’t be smiling, you being sick is doing something terrible to his heart rate, but there’s something undeniably sweet about you when you’re like this.
“Can you get me a coke? A Zero, not a Diet, but not from a fridge because I’m so cold,” you say, your voice a pitiful whine.
“Yeah, I can do that,” Max says, surprised that it could be that easy, but it turns out you were just taking a breath.
“And a SmartWater,” you sigh. “If they don’t have SmartWater then some kind of energy drink and a Voss but if you can’t find the Voss then just the energy drink,”
“Yes, I know the water hierarchy,” Max says, thinking to himself that that might be the strangest sentence he’s ever said.
“And a blanket, please, this hoodie is so thin,”
Max nods, getting to his feet, already thinking where in a thirty degree paddock he is going get a blanket, but you’re not done.
“And could you close the blinds so I can sleep until you’re back from debrief,”
He nods, turning to go to the door. He stops halfway. Maybe he should do the blinds first. But the couch is front of the blinds so he’ll need you to move and he doesn’t want to move you-
“Actually, Max?”
Did he say he liked you like this? Yeah, he’s an idiot.
He turns back to you. “Yeah?”
“Could you just sit with me for a minute?”
He melts.
“Yeah,” he says, giving in to the smile this time. “I can do that.”
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koko056 · 3 months
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I got 80/80 in a math preboard exam conducted by my coaching and I was the only one who got a perfect score in a batch of nearly 150 kids, like not even 0.5 marks deducted.
but that dry 'well done' from sir can't even compare to what my grandfather, a retired army-school math teacher, said to my mom about my answer-sheet.
' achha likha hai, i remember giving 100 marks to such papers. presentation aur writing bhi sundar hai"
IM OVER THE MOON.
THE SMILE HE HAD WHEN I TOLD HIM I GOT A LITTLE TROPHY FOR MY SCORE AND MY "HOMEWORK-PERFORMANCE"
IM SO FREAKING HAPPY
JBISDBVALISDVGDYVG
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redysetdare · 1 month
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never assume any of my posts are about Haz/bin hotel. I refuse to have anything of mine associated with that shit show. The ship discourse has been around way before it was even a thought and aroace and aroace coded characters have existed before it and will exist after it. This isn't new. this isn't a haz/bin exclusive problem. Do not assume that everyone who is in this conversation is talking about that show.
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snzluv3r · 6 months
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i know there’s a lot of chronically ill/medically complex people on here so i was wondering, have any of you ever struggled with medical burnout (for lack of better words)?
(also gonna rant real quick under here sorry for the negativity)
i’ve been really struggling lately because it feels like half of my time is spent making phone calls and scheduling appointments and going to get tests and scans and spending months of my life just in limbo on waiting lists. i’m so sick of feeling like my health is a job and constantly being at the hospital for appointments like it’s gotten so bad that i can barely bring myself to take my meds anymore. it’s just so exhausting sometimes and i wish there was a way i could take a break from all of this without potentially making my health worse.
even today i woke up really sick and had to miss out on something i was really looking forward to yet i still feel this responsibility to make all of the medical calls i was planning to make anyway because i’ve been putting everything off for so long. it’s not like making those calls is that much work but it gets so frustrating being bounced around or not getting a straight answer because insurance or referrals or whatever other stupid healthcare system process that makes this all so much more complicated.
i also am still on the waiting list for my new PCP and have no idea when i’ll be able to actually meet her, yet my psychiatrist decided (without consulting me or my therapist) that because my meds haven’t changed recently (they absolutely have), i can just get all of my psych meds (including adderall) through my PCP….which i don’t technically have. i’m so frustrated because my nightmares have been so bad for years and they’re only getting worse and every med i’ve tried for PTSD nightmares is either bad for my physical health or doesn’t work at all and that’s really not something that i necessarily trust a pcp with??? it’s just not necessarily in their scope and i’ve had too many prescribers fuck up my brain and body by recklessly putting me on different psych meds without proper knowledge or research.
i’m just so frustrated and i’m so miserable right now i wish i didn’t have to do this for the rest of my life. and the fact that EDS literally just gets worse with age like? i don’t think i CAN do this for the rest of my life it’s just an endless cycle
sorry for complaining and ranting so much nobody is even gonna read this and that’s okay i just needed to get it off my chest
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starlooove · 2 months
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‘Au Damian steals his siblings bc Damian doesn’t value them enough’ Damian doesn’t owe these niggas shit
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madd-nix · 7 months
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if i go to jail for strangling my brother, just know he tried to kill me first by bringing over his girlfriend 's cat all the time, knowing i'm allergic
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hecksupremechips · 5 days
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Girl like. The reason he said "this is how it should be" and faced death with a smile....is cuz he wanted to die. For 2 years he sat there thinking he was worthless and deserved to die. If he hadn’t be shot, his death would’ve been suicide, he was fully planning to die in a gutter somewhere undetected. When saying "this is how it should be" hes literally saying "don’t cry because I’m dying, my death is a good thing actually because I fucking suck and you are better off without me". I don’t think that’s badass even slightly, it’s actually really sad and really shitty. Shinjiro is so convinced that he deserves to die and hates the idea of anyone giving a shit about him because he literally can’t wrap his mind around the idea that he will be missed when he’s gone, that his death is a bad thing actually. And his last words were meant to be comforting because he fully did not intend for anyone to be there when he died, he intended to die alone, so he says them as a reminder that he’s not worth crying over
Personally, if it were me, if I was holding my dying best friend in my arms who was deeply depressed and suicidal and he said "this is how it should be" uh. I wouldn’t admire him for it??? Like am I losing my mind when I say the way this game handles Shinji is bad or is anyone else seeing this too 😰
#its like okay listen i understand the basic math of any persona game they say things and everything they say is actually#very bad when you think about it for more than 3 seconds#like what theyre intending to do with the death of this character is be like oh no your sad friend dies tragically thats so saddddd#but that doesnt mean you cant live a wonderful life full of meaning you cant let grief consume you life is beautiful awagga#and i guess shinji is a specific character whos used cuz i guess its more tragic that he never realized he was worthy of life and shit#and i guess its also like ‘dont be like this guy who let grief consume him and then died you gotta Be Different’#which i dont. love. that last part cuz if you think about shinji and what led him down this road#its like. of course hes depressed! he accidentally killed a woman with a child when he was 16!#he himself is an orphan and he just made some other kid an orphan as well and it happened cuz his persona went out of control#which very much can translate to ‘this must mean im dangerous and can hurt everyone if im not kept under control’#so of course he isolated himself and believed he was evil and became suicidal like who wouldnt feel that way#like am i supposed to be mad he left sees and took drugs cuz uh while i dont think isolation or Evil Drug is good for his mental health#i dont think him continuing to fight in sees is something he can just easily do again given how he killed someone like he shouldnt have to#be a part of this thing anymore like how would he even safely get castor to not do that??? he cant kill more people on accident!#so yeah like using shinji as an example of bad coping mechanisms is already just. a big fucking oof to me like it just feels like the game#is saying he shouldve gotten over it and simply not be suicidal and stayed on the team. idk if thats the intent but uh it wouldnt faze me#cuz persona games are notoriously awful at writing characters who are traumatized and abused#but what makes everything even worse is how the game kinda like. acts like shinjis death is a stepping stone#like we’re supposed to use it as a wake up call and understand the stakes but keep going on anyways#and akihiko and Ken get. ‘great character development’ according to the game telling you they have now developed#but damn all akihiko is is just repressed he cries for 3 seconds and then is like I SHOULD MAN UP and then neglects a depressed child#shinjis dying words are words to live by now even though they piss me the fuck off like girl am i crazy HES FUCKING#HES TELLING ME NOT TO CRY OVER HIM BECAUSE HE SHOULD BE DEAD ACTUALLY AND THIS IS A GOOD THING ACTUALLY#like if the game wants us to still find meaning in life despite losing someone it just really hurts that shinji has to die for that to work#apparently. cuz the character i see myself in is shinji. not some perfect prettyboy who does everything perfectly and has 4 gfs#his death seems like a punishment for bad behavior. the bad behavior being of course depression and drug use. and im simply supposed to be#better than that if i want to live. and we dont get to form a connection with him cuz thats gayyyyy#and his death is like a NOBLE HEROIC SACRIFICE idk its just such bullshit to me i hate it so bad#how is killing a suicidal guy and then treating it as admirable that he said ‘this is how it should be’ supposed to make me feel#makes me feel sick personally and it ruins the entire game’s theme to me because its fucking shallow and the story is bad and im tired
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skrunksthatwunk · 11 days
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found out that rascal's owner took him again while i was out, and he's probably not gonna be back since the semester's almost over. i don't even know if his owner's coming back next semester, if i'll ever see him again. if he'll ever see me again. why do they wait until im not around to do this? why do they never let me say goodbye to him?
#i didnt really get to process it bc i found out when i was hanging w a friend but. im processing it now#sigh.. i dont know. i dont know.#at the end of the day he is and has always been someone else's cat. i can't control what she does with him#no matter what i think of it. she can always take him away. but every time it happens im just. im tired yknow?#it's worth it to me to have him around. i love him dearly and i want him to be in a home where he's actually cared for (which i have done my#best to provide) but he's just. not mine. and every time it happens i back up and think man. im such a sucker.#i don't think people manipulate me often. not in an ongoing way i mean. i don't think ppl see me as valuable enough to most of the time.#but damn. she really found my weak spots didn't she. free petcare courtesy of one chump who can't live without animals around. sigh#he deserves stability but he deserves love more. this weird shared custody thing is better for him i think. and frankly i also love him.#im not the priority here but my feelings are like. there. him being taken away without even telling me first hurts. i'd like to be able to#say goodbye to him. im not saying he has to stay or this has to go on but couldn't they just.. consider my feelings a bit more?#just bc you're fine with dropping your cat off somewhere for weeks not knowing when you'll see him again and not visiting doesn't mean i am#and i kind of feel like my roommate is part of this. after all it's not like his owner can just break into our room and take him#and if im always out when they do it there's a chance roomie's just shipping him off whenever she gets sick of him.#she's done it before. even after she agreed so vehemently with me about never wanting him to go back to such treatment and stuff early on.#she's been spraying him for little reason lately too. and i mean i get being a little more cautious with some things bc her neck's broken#but she's really fixated on how much he smells and bites and stuff and talks about how if i wasn't around she'd consider eating him#and then other times she's like that's my pookie. i don't get it. like yeah i tell rascal to fuck off sometimes bc he hurts me but it's not#like a hateful thing. i dont resent him for it i'm just annoyed sometimes bc he's maiming me a little. he's my baby. how could i loathe him?#so it makes me think that roomie might be blaming his transfers on his owner bc she doesn't want me to judge her#and like. this is her room too. it's not her fault she's more bothered by the smell than me. if she doesn't want to be bitten and clawed all#the time i can sympathize. i don't wanna force her to house him. but i wish she'd just be honest with me i guess#like. what if his owner decides to give him away without telling me? i'd take him in in a heartbeat. even though i know it's a bad idea.#but i'm worried he'll fall out of my reach completely. and at the very least I'd like to be able to say goodbye first. that's all.
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truckstoptigers · 3 months
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my dad is literally giving me the silent treatment lmao
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borderlinegerard · 1 month
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i hope i die, you broke my heart
#personal#my posts#so fucking tired oh my god#just yelled at my sister so loud that my throat is sore over a piece of fuciing plastic#sometimes ecerytbinf feels so bad and its like. what do i even do#like ok i relapse and i need a break from someone and they loose their fucking shit on me#taljing about how you always deal with my shit and youre tired of how i see you as the worst in the group#as if i didnt literally repeat to you over and over again that i love you and that i always will even when you kept denying it#all of the times youve left all the servers and the gc and all that and i was there to comfort you#theres a reason im always the person you go to#byt yeah . im neverrrr there for you#like is it just that im not there for you in the Same Way that youre there forme ??#does it need to be completely equal to be fair#and idk. i know hes struggling too but its so fucking stupid because ive been struggling for months and i dont treat u like tjat#im tired of feeling like i have to do two times more than everyone else ro be worthy of their love#like sorry man but im fucking sick and tired#i know ill be fine without you but like youre so sick right now that i dont know what youll do without all of us#idk im just like. you used to be so kind but now youre writing your name in mu blood#and sometimes i feel bad because i didnt mean evedytbinf i said to you but lets be honest#you didnt mean everyrbinf you said either#and i dont know if you were ever the right person because a lot of the time i think we are just two chemicals that werent meant to mix#but ill always remember you when i hear that one song and im making it sound like this is some kind if goodbye but it Really isnt#but like there was a time when i would tear myself apart for you. mot even because i liked you that much#i guess i just wanted someone that liked me as much as you did???#and when j say that it isnt even about one soecific oerson. its an amalgamation of ecery person tgat has ever loved me#a little more than they were supposed to#i think i hate ahen people love me Too Much because i dont want to be adored like that it scares me#iknow what thats like and i dont want to be someone fp Its so scary#okay if im being honest i dont know whbat the fuck im saying right mow#byt like. idk. im tired and i think im done. tbh
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