#but seriously im so fuckin tired of this

[soldier-poet-king]

Thank u bullshit double standards for reminding me why I absolutely need to move out no matter how much I fear the urban isolation or the cost of rent

#franposting #ughhhh #thE SHEER SEXISM OF IT ALL #ik ik eldest daughter parentified child js maybe exaggerated on this site #but in MY case? every single stereotype is true and im so fuckin angry #im tired. #i cant live even a little #and my brothers continue to pull such shit and get away with it. and even be CODDLED #and all i ever got was harsh criticism and higher expectations #ive never been coddled in my entire goddam life #im the only one of the adult children who even REMOTELY has my life together #and yet. they can do whatever they want. bc my parents feel bad and like them better #and im being compared to the teen who is being a dramatic butthead. bc yknow. a teen #as if me being explicitly suicidal for my entire teen years is comparable to my brother throwing a hissy fit over an iPhone #thanks. glad to see im being taken seriously. that all the work i put into myself and my recovery and my academics are being appreciated #thanks ://// #i am going. to meal prep. shower. scream a lil. watch arcane. read. ignore these mfs

[insaneiceshard]

Chapter 4

Hello hello! New chapter fresh and off the press! (not really this one is a week old...) AO3 is completely set up, so if you prefer reading stuff on there you are free to do so! Updates on there will be spaced out for my sanity and to keep connected story bits together.

Trigger Warnings: Cannon typical violence, implied suicide, grief of a loved one, panic attack. This one is pretty heavy so please take tare of yourself.

Prev---First

Gourmand was jolted awake, not by the opening of the gates, but by an ugly, distorted, ring of a bell. Suddenly in a panic, she shot up and her eyes darted to the thing lighting up the den, a symbol she had wished she'd forgotten. 

A slugcat stared down at her, eyes strobing every colour of the rainbow and casting light throughout the denlike firecrackers. Their short lime fur whipped around them, propelled by wind that can’t be here. How had this slugcat snuck into the den? Had they hid in the darkness, waiting for the right moment to strike? Gourmand was intensely aware that this scug had no good intentions with that golden pinwheel above them. She whipped into action, grabbing her spear, which sat in its sling next to her, and with all the strength she could muster, launched it towards the intruder. 

The den was instantly shrouded in darkness once again, and the ugly bell rang silent as the body thudded down to the ground. The metallic smell of blood flooded the air, almost choking Gourmand. She stood still, paralyzed. Her breathing was quick and painful, tearing through her lungs as the fuzz around her eyes began to wet. 

She couldn’t let her fear take over her. She couldn’t let her mind race to places she never wanted to go again. She took a seat against a wall and focused on her breathing. Holding her own body tight, she filled her lungs full, and let the air out in a slow, and shaky breath. Like filling and emptying a gourd, she streamed the air in, and then out. Her heart was still beating heavily in her chest and up her throat, but she had shaken away the panic and slumped down in the now cold and dark den. She considered checking the mysterious slugcat, to see if it was truly well and dead, but sleep was already taking over again. It looks like one of the constants in her life was how quickly you could fall asleep in one of these shelters. 

She crawled away to lie down in the furthest corner away from the corpse and stared at it through the darkness. Finally, she closed her eyes. Her mind had decided to play a nasty trick on her that night, so she dreamt of a memory she desperately tried to forget.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Gourmand hadn’t the slightest clue how they found her, but they had. They finally came home. She threw the biggest party she could, and the siblings were fed with good food till they were bursting at the seams. Those first years together were the best, her heart constantly felt warm and full of love. She taught Monk how to cook, a skill they practically begged Gourmand to teach them. Cooked meals were not necessary for survival, like hunting or fighting, so giving Monk this opportunity meant everything to her. They were happy, thriving for the first time in a long while. 

But even then on the happiest days, she noticed something off with Survivor. 

They spoke of the robots that ruled the land. Of the beings that had left long ago, who built this world from the ground up. Of the Void Sea. Gourmand knew about all of it. The ignorant child and his broken sister. The pompous idiots that still linger, stuck in between life and death. How couldn't she? She had to admit, however, that hearing Survivor’s stories inside the same complex she explored years ago was nice, fun even! How different their journeys only a few years apart could be. But their tone, the way they spoke of morals and karma. How the cycle can be broken, once and for all. Gourmand hadn’t the slightest clue what to do. She thought maybe the young scug was just naive, taking the word of a sad robot as truth. In time, they’d learn. In time, they could forget the false lessons they were taught. 

However, Survivor did not want to give themselves time. 

First, it was Monk waking up alone. Then, it was the hunting party, short only one slugcat. Nothing, no rain, no leviathan, could replicate the overwhelming dread she felt. The absolute frenzy she was consumed by. She hadn’t wanted Monk to come with her, but she was too much in a rush to reason with them. 

As they descended they had tried to claw for any reason why Survivor could not be down there. Gone for a hunt, maybe they just needed some time alone? Maybe they got lost, and the both of them were looking in the wrong direction. They were just fine last night! They had sung songs together, even told stories and painted them on the den walls! They reached a shelter at an entrance that led to The Depths. She convinced them to wait inside. If she found nothing, they would sleep and head back up early in the morning to look elsewhere. She had the thought as she left, that she had never seen Monk’s eyes so empty. So devoid of hope. She would say that was the worst she had ever felt in her long life, if it weren't for Monk’s wails that followed her return.

They had left something for her, down there. Their paw print, a pinwheel crossed through it, and their scent unmistakably lingering on the paint plastered across the stone wall of the temple.

#tw suicide #tw grief #Rainworld #rain world #rw gourmand #rw fanfic #I did not know ao3 uses Html #so...gotta learn that now #also I've been working on a HUGE chapter and it's seriously been a pleasure to write this #like im so fricken excited to continue this fic #i have so many ideas #i NEED to share them all #but im real fuckin tired so i might take a break to just plan everything out

[ratbastarddotfuck]

Shoutout to me from five weeks ago, about to start my new job, saying "watch this space, in about four weeks my mental health will be deteriorating rapidly". That bitch was bang on the money.

#new job blues #capitalism #i fucking hate being employed it always makes me want to die #and i mean that so seriously (I'm safe but passive) #im so fuckin 'what's even the point' #and girl this job sucks #the actual calls are generally the least bad part of it tbh #some of the scripting sucks but that's not too bad. manageable. #but requesting support? escalating a request? transferring someone? all miserable. #some of this shit is so fucking convoluted #and im so tired of telling people i can't fucking help them because they don't have enough of their own information #also some of the managers are fucking CREEPS and it's real bad and communication between management sucks #culture there is kinda rough #it's like. ough i do not wwnt to be there at all tyvm #but this is the first job ive found that'll accommodate my 5 hour shift length. so what do i even do #screams #the system speaks

[crushedoranges]

So explain to me why the su!cide hotline called the cops on me as a youth but as a young adult they don't even fucking call me back

#yall are asking for this at some point #you cant hear someone begging for help and sucidal asf the day before and not even fucking call back #im tired im tired im tired im tired im tired im tired im tired #FUCK THIS #yes because the pain and agony i felt yesterday ended when my call ended aburptly #and now #even after calling you mfs #you wont even fucking CALL ME BACK #if this is actually how much i matter im fuckin seriously so tired yall

[sensitivegoblin]

Lol I HATE my sisters boyfriend

#guess who almost said the R word at a stupid video game #and then he defended AND got butt hurt over me ‘preaching’ about it #now I’m sitting here having to finish the game with him #i fucking hate him he ruins everything by being his stupid way #i wish the purge was real I wanna kill him the rest of his stupid family and runaway to take care of his niece #i just #fuck #he seems to have a talent for making me miserable #i told him the R slur isn’t like bitch or c-nt #does he care? #no because an emotionless monster who should be fuckin put down #fine don’t wanna fix yourself I’m therapy? let me drown you. #i wish he could read my mind to know how disgusting and worthless I think he is #if I d-xx myself can one of y’all stab him for me? #i seriously fucking just hate him he has zero compassion #he’s such a fucking idiot he thinks he’s so smart cus he’s emotionless #i wish I could hit him with a pot I swear I’m so seething mad right now #IM TIRED OF HEARING PEOPLE SAY THE RSLUR #i hope anyone who says it today gets a sharp pain in their chest that lasts hours #I’m so disgusted rn that word literally makes me physically I’ll #ill * #he’s now pulling a brat routine where he’s just playing in silence #YOU hurt other people and you’re punishing US for it??????? #I’m gonna be off and on tonight I dunno

[n0ct0urn1quet]

think i migght acactully drop out of school lmao i cannot do this shit anymore . i was fine a second ago but the thoughts got too strong and so now im Mad

#school doesnt start for another month and im already stressed and i just know that when school does start my mental health is just #going to rapidly decline and im gonna not have energy to do anything anymore n im sjut gonna fucking die #like if im being honest since i stopped going to school last year around like november/december my mental health has been Better #not good and not great but better than it is when im in school and i feel like that says a lot. #idc if dropping out means my entire family disowns me my moms already tired of me not going to school bc ive been struggling since #6th grade and its like. ok. #i might as well just not try #like ill be doing online school this year so not going back to public school but still dude i dont want to #i dont wanna do this shit for another 2 fucking eyars ive struggled enough already i cant Take It #i wanna fuckin move out so bad i dont wanna do this shit no more <3 #evereyones like 'oh i could never drop out of school id ruin my relatinship with my mom' n its like #ok well for me theres no relationship to ruin between us in the first place. she hates me and i hate her n thats just how its gonna be #she already is like ignorant when it comes to school n me being in school so why even fuckin bother this year right #seriously just considering dropping out i really dont wanna do this becauuse doing school is just going to take such a tolll on me and like #i just . dont wanna go through it! im done! the american education system can suck my dick. #i dont even think im gonna graduate at 18. i dont think im gonna graduate ever. i didnt finish 6th grade and completely skipped 7th #i pretty much failed 8th bc my grades went down bc i didnt go to school bc of the whole covid thing n i manually passed but that #doesnt count bc i was already skipping school n didnt do the online classes. i didnt finish 9th bc that was also during like the height of #the pandemic and 10th was just a disaster and on my last day i had pretty much an anxiety attack in my 4th period bc my teacher was #a fucking loser. #so. im just done! im fucking done. #not gonna graduate. oh well.

[the-yearning-astronaut]

Nothing more scary as an adult than having to call out of work for the 2nd or 3rd time this week because your dysautonomia is fuckin with you, making it difficult to think clearly or do anything more taxing than sitting on the couch.

#fox isn't doing well #chronic fatigue #dysautonomia #autonomic dysfunction #ive been so fuckin tired this whole week #and I don't think ive been properly warm either #except when my body decides it's TOO warm and then i feel like im in a sauna #and the brain fog is seriously bad rn too #like 1) having to call out multiple times so close together makes me fear I'll lose my job #(even tho we're short staffed and my supervisors are kinder and more understanding than that) #and 2) i have bills to pay and I've missed all but 5hrs of work this week already #and let me tell you there aint shit i can do with $75 lmao #and trying to figure out what to tell them and how much is like #impossible for my brain to handle even on a good day #like i was completely up front at my last job about my conditions because i was working at a national park #and there was a safety thing to consider #but this job isn't like that so like. idk. but i just feel like its easier to have open conversations about these things #so that there aren't future misunderstandings and we can work out contingency plans ahead of time #but i know that's like #a Big No-no or whatever #fox thoughts

[astrogenica]

being plural is honestly a wild experience because every time i think i understand whats going on in here i come to find out something even weirder than before and like. im not even mad at this point it's just like can someone just tell me what's going on instead of letting me piece it together on my own?? can somebody in here gimme a goddamn hand???? creepy ass motherfuckers doing shit in the background and whisper whispering in my ear until i Realize IS NOT AN EFFICIENT MEANS OF COMMUNICATION. USE YOUR WORDS SPEAK WITH YOUR WHOLE CHEST goddamn!

#yall dont have a problem being this loud when im trying to SLEEP i see how it is #don't even know who the fuck i am right now fuck you guys #all you bitches been in here so fucking long you didn't think to write me a fucking handbook or something #you know we're autistic you dumb sluts!!! #jfc #this shit is honestly exhausting #im sitting here tryna have a good time and yall are fuckin Scheming behind my back do you know how hurtful that is??? #yall dont ever actually think about how i feel about any of this like you seriously think i can just take whatever you throw at me when *u* #think its the right time #not when im actually ready for it #GOD you're just like everybody else fuck you guys fuck you gguys SEVERELY #with a fucking cactus #admin tags: #text post #vent #venting #vent post #plural #plurality #arguing #i'm just so tired #i feel like knowing what's going on isn't a huge thing to ask yknow #communicating with me doesn't have to be so difficult #autism #i have it #i'm literally as direct as i can get #i don't know why you guys get so mad at me just asking for what i need #why do you keep playing this out #aren't you exhausted? #i am

[lostwanderer42]

Tired of reminding myself it's been tough year and it's ok to not feel good

#living with a friend's parents to get out of a seriously scary situation and also not have to move back with my parents #who live hours away and have none of my friends nearby #is fuckin weird and tough!! #and we still dont have our own place #we're gonna #but it's literally gonna be almost a year since move out before we get in there #and its been a year now since things officially went to shit #like yeah slow decline before that but shit exploded in December last year #and i feel awful rn #and have to keep reminding myself that that is so beyond reasonable #even if a lot of things are really good rn #and they are!!! #a lot is really hard and HAS been really hard #and im tired of it #i just wanna feel okayyyyyy

[elishortforelliott]

GUESS WHO PROBABLY HAS COIVDDDDD

This is my second time having it if I do have it and this shit suckssss

#like seriously #my fucking troat is killing me and im so fuckin tired

[smellyprincetm]

FUCKING HELL

#i gotta complain cause ik every1 in my life is tired of this #my fuckin ex is being annoying as fuck #that motherfucker deleted all photos of me(as he should) but left the comments ive made #just to have a narrative of me being a weird ex who still longs for him WHEN I LITERALLY TOOK THE BREAKUP AS A GOOD THING #cause IT WAS A GOOD THING. #but he lied and manipulated fuckinh everything and I JUST KNOW that he lied to his friends about me #we were supposed to be friends but im cutting fucking all contact. he can eat shit and die for all i care. #THEN he lies about not having my stuff. i know he does. for fucks sake just give them back so i can forget about you. #i never want to have you in my life again. #IM SO FUCKING ANGRY AND DISGUSTED #he just used me lmao #you couldve at least lied a little better. if youre gonna cheat and do me dirty OWN IT. dont be a fucking pussy. #IM SO DONE WITH THIS ASSHOLE SERIOUSLY #holy shit you could at least be a DECENT FUCKING HUMAN BEING AND COMMUNICATE #i was open with you. i told opened up to you. i understood you. i broke MY OWN BOUNDARIES FOR YOU. I WOULDVE DIED FOR YOU. #just for you to do this. with all love i hope you die. in the most painful way imaginable. #YOU KNEW THIS WAS THE WORST THING YOU COULD DO TO ME. YOU JUST PLAYED A STUPID EMOTIONAL GAME WITH ME. #FOR WHAT. FOR KICKS??? GLAD YOU GOT THEM. #apparently my fwb is gonna come w me to scare him lmaooo what the fuck #he has a strange thing towards owning me so i think he will be more than happy to piss off my ex lol

[blendy-pens]

been into funky self portraits lately

#doing fuckin anything to procrastinate figure drawing #class is literallyyyy in 6 hours #I got one thing done but my other midterm? #ugh #idk sorryyyyy fidalis but i can only create wacky shit right now it's going to be weird #the one thing was an animation tho so #all things considered #a lot has been accomplished #my art #i think im just tired of taking life seriously it sucks man i need a break #anyway if anyone wants to see my nutso batshit animation I'll post it

[laiiaaa]

SARDINES — CARMEN BERZATTO

summary Carmen seems a little off when you visit him, and you try to figure out why. For once, you pry him open.

length 3.2k

contents angst, hurt/comfort, he's really an angel even if he's closed off n stubborn, very very emotional, lots of negative self-talk from Carm, he cares so so much, relationship talk, everything resolves in the end dw &lt;3

It takes more than a few knocks for Carmen to open the door. If you counted correctly, it took six tries, plus a phone call. So you shouldn’t be surprised that when he finally does open the door, he barely gives you a kiss on the cheek and mumbles Hey before turning his back to you again, back in the kitchen with his phone face up on the counter. He’s antsy, almost talking to himself, checking his phone every five seconds.

You walk in and lock the door behind you as you take off your shoes, and you drop your bag on the coffee table, which houses little else other than a remote and a day-old mug with coffee staining a ring in the bottom. “…Everything okay?”

He leans into the counter with his weight on his hands and spares you a glance and a haphazard nod. “Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine—just waitin’ for my guy to call back.”

“Isn’t it a little late for that?” Sitting down on the couch, part of you expects him to join you without being asked. Your back and feet ache, and all you want is for Carmen to lay with you, ease his hands up and down your spine, and watch the first thirty minutes of a random film before falling asleep.

“No, no—he usually answers when I need ‘im.” But he’s working. He’s at home, and you’re waiting on him, but he’s working. He seems to be prioritizing that a lot lately—a lot more than usual, at least. Running a hand through his hair, he watches the screen again, and mutters to himself, “Thirty fuckin’ minutes. Fuck you.”

You peek over the back of the couch. “Are you sure everything’s okay? You sound upset.”

“Yeah, baby, I’m—fuck this—” He derails from answering and instead picks up the phone again, calling and letting the dial tone ring out the second time this hour. He waits with his hand on his hip and his lip tugged between teeth.

You know ‘his guy’ doesn’t pick up when he drops his phone on the counter again with a sigh and another muffled profanity. “Carm?”

His head rests between his hands, but he lifts it to look at you. “Yeah?” 

“Can you come sit with me, please?”

God, how you tug on his heart strings when you ask, your voice all sweet and dripping honey, you make it impossible to resist. “‘F course, yeah,” he answers, pocketing his phone and turning off the kitchen light before joining you. 

He loops an arm over your shoulder as he presses his lips to your temple, and his heart skips a beat or two when you snuggle into him with your hand splayed against his chest. The two of you stare off at nothing in particular, soaking in the touch of the other. You smell so distinctly like you—like home—he’d be getting lightheaded in the best way if he weren’t so…so caught up in everything you help him escape: work, the fringe family, being so dead tired that in his mind he can’t tell where his kitchen ends and the fire begins. But that phone call he’s waiting on. It’s poking needles in the nape of his neck. 

You sit up after a couple minutes, keeping a hand planted over his heart when you look at him. “I can literally feel how anxious you are.” He scoffs, but before he can protest you add, “Seriously, Carm, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s—everything’s just…” He looks off into nowhere behind you, his free hand making circles in the air like the words will fall into his palm if he tries hard enough. He stumbles for a few moments until he looks you in the eye again, a bit pained when he tells you, “Everything’s fine, baby.” The arm that was hooked over your shoulder is now curled around your waist, and his fingers, rough and scarred, trace meaningless shapes into your back, teasing beneath the hem of your top. “You don’t have to worry ‘bout it, alright?”

You’re unconvinced. You shuffle your hips around to straddle his, placing your hands on his shoulders with your thumbs carefully massaging the sides of his neck. Like clockwork, his hands take purchase of your waist, and he brings one to slide down over the curve of your ass before smoothing circles into your thigh. He always seems to speak to you in this way—maybe about as much as he tells you he loves you through his food—the physical connection much easier to manage than trying to crack open the rock-hard shell in his chest.

You lean into him a little more, your back arching ever so slightly. “You know I want you to keep me in the loop. What’s the guy for now?”

He sighs. “It’s just—shit with the stoves ‘n it’s messin everyone up, the kitchen’s basically a fire hazard, ‘n I really need him to answer his damn phone before something…” He shrugs. “…Before something just, I dunno, blows up, I guess.”

“Well, nobody’s even in that kitchen right now, so no explosions just yet.” You eye him for a moment, biting at your lip in contemplation when he doesn’t smile quite like he usually does at your drier jokes. “Is there something else bothering you?”

His brows furrow. “No, no—why, why’re you askin’ it like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like, like…” He shakes his head as if it pains him to consider it. “Like there’s somethin’ wrong with me, or, or somethin’ I’m hidin’—”

“I didn’t mean it like that, Carm, c’mon.” Your voice goes softer, hands a little gentler as you cradle his jaw in your palms. “I just want you to let me in.”

He takes a deep breath through his nose. “You’re always sayin’ stuff like that,” he mumbles, and you can feel the vibration of his voice through your hands through to your heart.

“Because I mean it.” The AC whirrs nearby, almost muffling your words. “I want you to tell me about the things that bother you. I would never judge you.”

You’re so tender with Carmen, he thinks he could melt into a puddle on the floor, left to seep into the floorboards and through the ceiling of his downstairs neighbor. And he feels the words bubbling to the surface, the emotion pooling, red-hot behind his eyes, an answer burning at the back of his throat and clawing through his chest rough enough that the kisses you scatter from his cheek, to his jaw, to his neck do little to aid his wounds. But when he answers you, it’s tame. “I do tell you about things.”

“You do, but…” You wrap your arms around his neck and nuzzle into the space between it and his shoulder. “I’m just thinking about this game I used to play when I was a kid, sardines.”

His head tilts back against the back of the couch, and your breath dances along his skin while his hands smooth along the bumps of your spine. “Sardines?”

“Mhm,” you hum, “It’s kinda like…hide and go seek, but reversed. One of us would hide, and when someone found us, they’d squeeze into that spot too. And I remember being terrible at it, because we’d be making faces at one another in our little hiding spot, and I could never stop giggling, and I’d just expose everyone too soon.”

He chuckles quietly to himself. “I can picture that, you laughin’ while shoved in a closet.” His fingertips trace your shoulder blades.

“Pretty much how it went. Always too loud.”

“But I like hearing you laugh. I—I always feel better…gettin’ to see you all happy.” He’s thinking he got a little too caught up in the moment, and before you can say anything back, he asks, “What were you thinkin’ about the game, then?”

“It’s a little stupid to say it out loud,” you start.

“‘S not stupid, promise.”

You pause, hesitant. “…Okay.” One quick kiss to his neck before you continue, eyes closed to sink into him, “I just like to think that, eventually, you’ll let me in like…like it’s a game of sardines, or something. That I’ll just…squeeze in right beside you, and—and you’ll let me be there for you without pushing me away.”

He hums, low and drawn out to give you a beat to breathe.

“Sometimes I just want you to tell me what it is that’s bothering you, just to…make it easier on you a little bit, knowing someone’s in your corner. Just to be there.” Your fingers twirl into his messy curls and scratch at the nape of his neck the way he likes, and his silence drags on long enough to make you anxious.

But Carmen, too, is anxious. His chest is tight, his hands fidgety, and he’s sure—he knows, he feels it in his gut—that he needs to say something, anything. But he can’t find the words. They swirl in the back of his mind, and he can taste them crawling to the tip of his tongue, but they never become clear. They lurk where he can’t see them, and he keeps his thoughts on lockdown for you, because he’s been convinced along the way somehow in his decades of living that it’s easier, for him, if he keeps the softer parts stowed away, never to be seen again. He’s starting to think you’re trouble, that you make him softer where he grew to be tough. So it’s muffled and covered by his palms smoothing up your waist when he asks, “Sit up for me a bit, baby?”

And you listen, of course, because really you’re thankful he didn’t kick you out by now. Your vision is blurry from tears pooling in your eyes, but his hands—so, so gentle, the touch barely there like he thinks you could break—cup your jaw and urge you a little closer, his thumbs stroking your cheeks and wiping away stray tears. The two of you gravitate closer until your noses brush by one another and you exchange breath, until he leans into you and slots his lips against yours. He’s hesitant and careful, he doesn’t know if it’s quite the right thing to do or if it’s says what he needs it to, but when you prop your hands against his chest and kiss him back he knows part of you needs it like he does. 

Both of you need it—that silent exchange, emotions spilled between sweet kisses and kind hands. So you stay that way, with Carmen’s hands holding you close to keep you from running away, and yours answer back I’m here, until he pulls away, eyes closed, to rest his forehead against yours. 

He keeps himself blind when he whispers, “I know…” You can tell he’s mulling over his thought, so you wait for him to add, “I—I know, that you’re in my corner. An’ I want you there, alright?”

You try to soak in the feeling, so close and seemingly getting closer, a little breathless from his kisses as much as his words. “Alright.”

“I just—I just get so, so stuck in my head that I…” He swallows. “I can’t tell half the time if there’s anything even worth sayin’, I’m just spaced out ‘n…going fuckin’ crazy.” His brows furrow against yours. “I’m not used to stuff like this.”

“I know.”

His hands rest along the curve of your face a little firmer when he suggests, “But I can try—to, to, uh, tell you things, to let you in, or, or however you put it—I—” A deep breath. “I’m so fuckin’ bad at this, I’ve never done this, but—but I’ll try, for you, alright? You tell me, an’ I’ll try for you.”

You nod against him.

“Fuck,” he hisses, “I just—it’s just—I like this, y’know? Being with you, I like what we have, I—I like doing this, and—I wanna…I wanna make you happy. The same way you do for me…” He goes quiet and shakes his head a little, anticipating his next words. “I don’t wanna fuck it up.”

You can’t fight the smile that pulls at your lips, even if it is bittersweet. “You aren’t gonna fuck it up, okay? Being with you already makes me happy. I know you’re trying.”

“But trying isn’t…it’s not always enough, an’ I know in some ways—in a lotta ways, probably, I’m not…I—I’m not the best at saying things, an’—shit, am I—am I saying too much—?”

“No, Carm, no. I want you to keep talking.” You take his lips in another gentle kiss, your stomach whirring warm and content.

“I don’t really know what to say, or—”

“It’s okay,” you coo. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but…if there was something else bothering you earlier…you can tell me.”  You pull back a little to really look at him, running your fingers through his curls and making him gently close his eyes. “And I’ll just say okay, and then we can move on. I won’t say anything unless you want me to.”

He hums with his eyes still closed, his mouth in a smirk. “Mm, like sardines.” It’s a little snarky when he says it, but when his thumbs brush beneath your top, you know he’s just thinking over his options. 

“Yes, like sardines.” You’re a little embarrassed, but also a little thankful that he followed the bit.

He waits for a few moments, just breathing, letting you smooth your hands through his hair and over his shoulders and down his chest. It’s calming, he realizes—simply existing in the same space, careful touches and brief kisses. He runs his palms from the back of your waistband to the plane between your shoulder blades and presses gently, urging you to lean against him once again. When your head rests against his chest, he takes in a deep breath through the nose and out the mouth. He watches the ceiling. 

“There’s…” Another pause. “It’s not just the stove that’s botherin’ me.” 

You don’t answer him, not even a hum to acknowledge he’s said anything, and he realizes that you were serious about the whole ‘not saying anything’ bit. 

“I…fuck, I don’t even know how to say any ‘f this. I think…I think I’m just freakin’ out about…about everything. The restaurant…you…” There’s a long, heavy pause, a shaky breath. “An’—an’ that’s it, really, besides family I guess—which is really fuckin’ pathetic when I say it out loud.” A sniffle. “Real pathetic. But all I’ve had is fuckin’…fuckin’ cooking, an’ working, an’ dealin’ with my family ‘n fuckin’ Richie all my life—” His chest gets, tight, a hand leaves your back to run over his mouth. “God, an’ I am so fucked up,” he laughs.

You were already crying before, and the tears keep coming, streaming from your eyes to your cheeks and staining Carmen’s shirt. You’re not sure whether he even realizes.

“I’m fucked up, and you’re just—you’re so perfect, compared t’me, ‘cause you’re all smart, an’ you always know the right thing to say ‘n how to say it, an’ you’re just in a completely different world sometimes, an’ I want in—I wanna be able to do things for you, all of it, but—” He needs to catch his breath. He needs water. He needs sleep. His throat is sore and scratchy, he feels his pulse pounding in his forehead. “I’m just…scared…that—that I could fuck you up, too.”

His chest expands beneath you, and you’re shaking, biting at your lips to stifle sobs. Part of you wants to sit up and hold him close, tell him that he’s the perfect one and you’re anything but, that all he’s ever been is made for you, that maybe he is fucked up, but you don’t care because you love him all the same—you love him.

Carmen isn’t used to this reaction. He’s used to explosions, yelling, screaming, pointing fingers with hot tears, saying what he shouldn’t, saying what hurts, guilt smacking him across the face for years to come. He’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. He feels your trembling and holds you that much gentler. 

“Baby,” he starts, “Hey, lemme see you, you’re shaking—” He tries to peel you from his torso, prodding at your sides until you wipe at your eyes and sit yourself up. His hands reach to hold your wet face. “What—what’s wrong?”

You push his arms away. “Sardines, Carm.” You try to stay true to your word—that you’d take what he says, and only store it away—but you’d be lying if you said you’re not struggling to keep more tears at bay. 

“I want you to talk to me. You said you’d talk if I wanted you to, I—I need you to talk to me, c’mon, please—”

“This is so wrong—I’m the one who should be comforting you—”

“Hey, hey hey hey—” He smooths a hand over your hair and presses kisses to the tear stains on your cheeks. “That doesn’t matter to me. That doesn’t matter to me, alright?” He holds you steady, waits for you to meet his eyes, and when you look at him, it’s like he can see right through you. His thumbs brush away your tears, and your breathing settles.

You sigh, your hands moving from his chest to his shoulders. “We’re such a mess.”

Carmen shakes his head, mind full of you as his eyes trail the contours of your face, the plush of your lips when your teeth bite at them. “Wouldn’t wanna be with anyone else.” His hands touch your waist again and ease you into him, buzzing with your soft curves in his grasp. It’s more than therapeutic, he thinks. Life-sustaining might be more accurate.

You nod, and your fingertips graze along his cheekbones before you plant a soft, yearning kiss to his mouth.

He kisses you again because he can’t help himself, and he might be too scared to look you in the eye when he says it, but eyes closed or not, he means it. “You’re so good to me.” His arms wrap around you again, addicted to feeling your weight beneath his skin, and he presses his lips to your jaw. “So fuckin’ good to me,” he repeats, lower than a whisper like it slipped by without thinking. 

You card your hands through his hair, messily beautiful, and answer, “You deserve someone good,” just as quiet as he is.

He swears his heart stops, and his lips trail from your jaw down to your neck. “You’re too good to me,” he says again, with a bit more honesty in the change. He knows you, so he already knows what you’re going to say, and that any other time he’d deny it.

You hum, a warm smile curling the corners of your mouth as you pull him closer to your chest, grazing your lips by his hairline for a gentle kiss. “No such thing.”

And for the first time, with his arms wrapped tight around your waist with a gentleness reserved only for you, and with your body slotted against his, he really starts to believe it.

#carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto imagines #the bear #the bear x reader #the bear fx #the bear season 2 #carmen berzatto x y/n #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto angst #carmy berzatto angst

[sensitivegoblin]

Vent

#literally shaking cus of how badly I don't wanna live rn #but I'm also scooped out hollow feeling #I keep praying and asking God to manifest something/someone here even just for a moment so I can have a hug #I seriously see no hope #I ended up leaving every therapist cus that was their answer 'you need to find hope' oh gee marinnee do I fuckin need HOPE? gee #how am I supposed to find hope? I've been trying for years #everytime I think things are FINALLY gonna get better #they just...don't #if I wasn't so fckin afraid of my family's reactions/hospitalization bills I would do it #honestly I'm never gonna get a partner I'm never gonna be happy I'm never gonna be out of pain #so what is the fucking point #where is the hope????? #I pray and try to do good #I can't borrow an Angel for 5 minutes so I can have a hug?????? seriously #my chest hurts no one's ever gonna love me 110% and I'm never gonna be able to live on my own #I wish I could just fckin do it but I'm constantly thinking about others feelings #im so tired I wish someone would kill me.... #nobody's even listening

[wheatnoodle]

so my ex and i used to constantly be falling asleep around each other. nobody else tho. we had shit sleep schedules and i had some pretty bad paranoia so i couldn’t even sleep when i was tired. but then we’d be like sitting on her couch or doing whatever and we’d just get so fuckin tired no matter what, yawning and bobble-heading around. y’know, the whole thing like you sleep around people you trust?

im trying to think it’s cute without thinking of her, so that but with steddie xoxo

eddie hosting hellfire at his trailer one night and steve’s there to be the kids’ ride. he doesn’t really feel like watching so eddie brings him to his room and finds something to occupy him with. while he’s in there, eddie takes off the shirt he’s currently wearing and switches it for the hellfire one before he’s taking off for the living area again.

hour and a bit later, they take a break and eddie goes to check on him and there’s steve in the worn motley crue shirt he discarded and sleepin oh so soundly in his mountain of pillows and blankets. UGH literally the cutest

they have family movie night at the hopper-byers house every thursday night. most of the time, eddie gets dragged away by the kids and steve is busy being robin’s personal space heater (which she will fall asleep draped over, drooling on his shoulder ten minutes in). but some nights, eddie gets to stretch out, lay his head on steve’s thigh (thats so close to his dick holy shit holy shit ok ok he’s your friend don’t think about his dick don’t think about his dick dontdoitdontdoitdontdoit-)

and one of steve’s hands will card through his hair, brush it away from his face, scratch at his scalp. eddie melts, dude. like, embarrassingly fast. the title card could still be going and eddie’s already become a deadweight on the couch.

“seriously?! it just started!” dustin will say when he tries to get eddie’s attention and sees he’s passed tf out. steve shushes him, holds a protective hand over eddie’s ear and lets him sleep.

steve will only fall asleep during a movie if it’s just them watching it. and they sit next to each other on the couch, like a couple of bros. besties, even. you know what eddie does? he pulls the whole “stretch my back, arm around the back of the couch” trick. and steve doesn’t even pick up on it as something to make fun of! he should! he knows every trick in the book, hell, he wrote the damn book!

if anything, steve just relaxes more. he doesn’t even take his eyes off the screen, just settles back into the couch, doesn’t wait a second before he leans his head on eddie’s shoulder. eddie rests his cheek on the top of steve’s head and hopes and prays he can’t hear his heart racing.

MAYBE ITS WINTER TOO??? MAYBE STEVEN IS SHIVERING???? and eddie grabs one of the many throw blankets the harrington’s own, holds it in front of them.

“cold?”

“mm”

and eddie’ll drape it over both of them. and now that opens the door for cuddling. a door that steve marches through, because he’ll take whatever human contact he can get, okay? he curls into eddie’s side, turns a bit to face him more so he can lift his legs and put them over eddie’s thigh, his feet dangling between his friend’s spread legs.

eddie will let his arm come off the headrest and instead wrap it around steve’s back. he’s pulling him closer, his other hand resting on steve’s thigh. both hands are stroking wherever they’re touching so tenderly, steve cant help but bury his nose deeper in eddie’s neck. he’ll breathe him in, so familiar and cozy, and something in the back of his mind tells him that if a demogorgon broke down the door right this second, eddie would protect him. and isn’t that a thought?

so he lets himself sleep. and he lets himself feel safe. because eddie will protect him

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things season 4 #steddie #idk what this is #is this embarrassing? i think it just might be #cricket shares too much #comfort #not even gonna proofread #just gonna post

[star-writes-sometimes]

insomnia, tea and clockwork oranges

tangerine x reader

word count: 1.3k

cw: swearing, reader uses some british slang, bad clockwork orange references, mentions of sexual stuff, mentions of drugs, tangerine being a therapy friend, is it ooc? maybe but i don't care

a/n: i kind of hate this but i'm only halfway through the other tangerine fic im writing

---—---

you were exhausted.

the mission was exhausting but you had finally completed it. working with the twins always went well but they were tiring after a while.

you couldn't sleep though. days of running on adrenaline and wishing you were home in your bed and now that you could finally crash in the house you all rented for the night and you were wide awake.

you gave up on your miserable attempt on counting sheep and decided to exit your small room for the night and go make yourself some tea.

you walked into the kitchen and found the kettle, mugs, teabags and sugar and started boiling the water.

"can't sleep either?"

"jesus fucking christ." you held your hand over your heart as you turned around and faced the living room adjacent to the kitchen. tangerine was still awake, sitting on the couch holding a book. "you scared the shit out of me."

he smirked as he looked you up and down, "sorry love, i didn't think anyone would still be awake." 

"neither did i," you moved to start preparing your cup now that your heart rate had calmed down, "you want a cuppa?"

"sure."

"sugar? milk?" you moved to grab another mug.

"nah."

you scrunched up your nose in surprise, "really? that's fuckin' gross."

"whaddya mean gross? it's classic."

"disgusting."

"the best way to have tea."

"without milk and sugar, it isn't tea, it's leaf soup."

"leaf soup? the fuck you talkin' 'bout darlin'" 

the kettle flicking off interrupted the response on the edge of your tongue and instead you moved over to pour the hot water. you silently finished making the cups of tea, ignoring the feeling of tangerine's gaze on you.

once done you moved over to the living room and placed both mugs on the coffee table before flopping down next to tangerine on the couch. you adjusted so you were sat crossed legged, close enough to tangerine for your knees to knock against each other.

you reached over and grabbed your drink, blowing on it slightly and taking a sip, "why are you still awake."

he shrugged slightly and reached for his own mug, "post kill adrenaline i guess. what about you?"

"i had to sell the sheep i usually count to feed my pet orphans." you joked as your eyes wandered to the book he placed on the table, "you were reading."

"yeah what's wrong with that?" he bit back quickly and defensively.

"fucking hell, chill out dude," you giggled slightly at his defensiveness, "i guess i just never pictured you reading. i mean i know you're well read and all but reading is a relaxing activity and i've never seen you relaxed." 

"oh." his eyebrows knitted in confusion at your small rant.

"so what book are you reading?"

"a clockwork orange."

you can't help but snort, "never mind that explains it."

as quick as it left his defensiveness returned, "explains what?"

"you don't relax while reading a clockwork orange. it's a good book and all but it ain't relaxing."

"you've read a clockwork orange?"

"of course. brainwashing, rape, murder, violence, reminds me of our lives except more dramatic. and i don't get my drugs from milk. and classical music doesn't make me cum."

he laughed at that, "you get off other places do you love?"

"oh yeah screamo music or the teletubbies theme are the only songs i use to get off." you responded with mock seriousness.

he smiled again, "personally i prefer black metal." he matched your tone, and you returned his grin, "if you don't read this shit what do you read?"

"porn." you smirk at him.

his smiles drops slightly, "you do that a lot y'know."

"what? read porn? darn i thought i hid it so well."

"no," he rolled his eyes, "the joking. you always do it to avoid things that make you uncomfortable."

it was your turn to get defensive, "i'm sorry?"

"lemon pointed it out a few days ago, i hadn't really noticed before he said it actually but it's true."

"i do not."

"why can't you sleep."

you had to swallow the sarcastic comment that instinctively wanted to claw its way out, "i dunno, left over adrenaline or whatever shit you said."

"you're lying." he said simply and moved to place his half empty mug back on the table next to the worn copy of clockwork orange.

"so? why do you care?" you copied his actions placing your own almost empty drink back down.

he moved his hand so it was on your knee and started tracing small, comforting circles. he used his other hand to grab your jaw, forcing eye contact, "i don't know much 'bout personalities and all that shit that's lemons stuff."

"yes i realised that when i encountered your own unlikeable personality."

his eyes narrowed slightly but he otherwise ignored your snark, "but you seem to be avoiding vulnerability, love."

you pulled away from him. moving your knee away and pulling your face away from his large hand, "no 'm not."

tangerine didn't respond. he simply kept looking at you, like he could see your resolve crumbling, "you don't have to tell me but i don't enjoy being lied to."

you couldn't believe you were considering talking to him about feelings. sure, you were close, you'd been on countless missions together and trusted him completely but this? 

he didn't say anything further but he did replace his hand on your knee continuing rubbing his thumb.

fuck you hated him at the moment.

"i don't feel safe."

he didn't say anything, didn't even falter his movements, just looked at you and waited for you to continue.

"i get nightmares and paranoid after all the fuckin' shit you see in this job." you look down, not liking his eye contact, "i don't feel safe tryin' to sleep."

much to your relief he spoke again, "do you trust me?"

your eyes knitted together in confusion, "yeah tan 'f course."

"lay down."

"what?"

he shuffled closer to the armrest, "you can't sleep. neither can i. so just lay down and relax and we'll stay up together." he pat his lap and looked at you expectantly.

"yeah, okay whatever." you breathed out and shuffled around until you were laying comfortably with your head in his lap and your legs curled up on the couch.

he started running his hand through your hair, smoothing it away from your face, "what’s it going to be then, eh?"

you can't help but smile up at him, "an unlimited supply of milk laced with ecstasy and classical music so good it makes me horny and violent?"

"don't think we'd be able to do all that tonight love."

"oh well i can settle for two weeks straight of horribly gory murder movies."

"yes but you'd have to be violently ill while doing so."

"i think if i got conditioned to hate violence i'd be out of a job."

"well, we can't have that."

"yeah. you'd miss me too much." you couldn't fight the yawn that crept up on you.

tangerine's other hand came down to rest on your cheek, his big hand almost covering your face, "tired, darlin'?"

you froze looking up and glaring, "how'd you do that are you a witch?"

"it's a secret, don't fight it just tell me more about your life as a droog."

"i don't think i'd be a droog."

"no?"

"nah i'd be one of the coppers they seem to have more fun."

"if you were a copper your job would be catching me."

"you wouldn't stand a chance."

"i think i’d be able to evade you for a while."

"nope." you unconsciously wiggled closer into him and yawned again, "what we should do is team up."

"oh yeah?"

"yeah, you snitch on your enemies and i arrest them. win, win scenario."

"how do i know you won't turn against me?"

"i like you too much." your eyes slowly closed, and you finally started sleeping.

tangerine smiled down at you, "yeah, i like you a lot too."

---—---

#tangerine x reader #tangerine #tangerine bullet train #bullet train #bullet train 2022 #bullet train x reader #tangerine x you