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#this is me using self deprecating humor
blairwld · 1 year
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Dan is usually very sarcastic when he confronts people so when he decides to do it in an upfront way, you know he means every single word
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tu-kai-boli · 2 years
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worldblight · 1 year
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That's two "don't say suicide jokes" posts on my dash this week. Y'all know you can say shit without feeling it right. Like you know I can say "I am going to jump off a building" without meaning that or having it affect my psyche right? Like. You know that's possible right? That people can say things. To be funny. And not feel bad afterwards
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roseplendunce · 1 year
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there’s something tragic about you . //From Fu
A young and prodigious Kai with what seemed to be a promising future ahead of them -- All of that had been thrown away in order to pursue what he thought would be best for the universe as a whole (as no one was willing to hear something different than what they have always known), only to fall short of success when it was very nearly within his grasp... And the fact that he was still trying, even though he knew that things likely wouldn’t work out for him in the end again? What wasn’t tragic about that?
The pseudo-saiyan’s expression distorted grimly, not because of anything that the demon had said, but because he did not particularly enjoy ruminating on this particular train of thought. Even so, Black supposed that he would have to contend with it eventually. Might as well do it now. “I would have to agree,” he said evenly, readily agreeing with Fu’s assessment about him. "My entire existence is quite tragic, really." He wasn’t particularly looking forward to confronting the logical conclusion to said thoughts, though.
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blissfullyecho · 1 year
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things i’m no longer doing for the rest of 2023
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using inappropriate language this goes beyond just cursing; it also includes making dark jokes, making “seggsual” innuendos, self-deprecating humor, and verbal negativity (gossip and saying negative things about self, others, or future plans).
allowing men to take up my time without them giving any type of investment in me my time is valuable, and it’s hard to gain complete access to me, let alone a little bit of access to me. phone calls will be cut short, texts won’t be too lengthy, and if they want to see me, they need to schedule and confirm a date with me.
accepting the bare minimum from not only others, but myself also everything i do from this moment forward needs to be 110% my best. i show up, i work my best, and i leave knowing that i did everything i could in that given time. i’m not leaving any room for regrets this year.
drinking alcohol because of my job in the nightlife industry, i find myself to drink a lot more than i should to help me get through the night. i usually feel gross the next day, it adds to any mental hardships i face, and it’s just not good for my body overall. the only times i will drink this year is if it’s my birthday, new year’s eve, or any other special occasion like a holiday or a special person’s birthday— if so, i’m limiting myself to one glass of high quality wine or champagne. tequila and any other spirit is an absolute “no” for me.
not keeping promises to myself if i say that i’m going to do something, i’m going to do it. i need to build trust with myself and that will allow me to also have more positive thoughts about myself and trust that whatever it is i want in life, i’ll have it because i’m used to keeping promises to myself.
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aliceramblez · 4 months
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BroZone Brothers With An Insecure S/O 😔💗
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Tags: GN! Reader, Self-Deprecating Jokes, Low Self-Esteem, Abandonment Issues, Slight Body Insecurities. Fluff/Comfort.
A/N: Here we go with our first request! I really liked this idea as someone who has low self-esteem, and honestly it goes to all of y'all who think you're not good enough— cause you are! Also sorry it took a bit! I've been sick because the universe hates me 🙃
Feel free to leave a request & hope you enjoy! ^^
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John Dory
At first, he doesn't really know what to make of it.
He finds it a bit strange, but doesn't question your odd sense of humor, and will sometimes even join in on the joke by saying stuff about himself, thinking it's some sort of inside thing between the two of you.
“Man, I can't believe I'm so clingy, sorry! Feel free to use me as a bad example, at least that way I won't be totally useless, haha!”
“Ha! You think that's bad? Babe, you haven't even seen me when I'm up at night just staring at the ceiling contemplating my life choices.”
It isn't until getting a good smack from Bruce and Floyd that he realizes you're actually being serious. And the prospect of that kinda puzzles him, not gonna lie.
“Look at you, tiger! Got yourself plenty of groupies already— Not surprising honestly. Don't have to worry about backups when you decide you're ready to move on, either!”
After a performance at the Pop Troll village, everyone is gushing over BroZone because of course they are. JD only barely manages to squeeze past the number of fans to get to you on the other side of the podium.
The oldest sibling looks at you in shock, and has to get closer to make sure he heard you right. “Babe, why would you say that?”
Caught off guard, you manage a nervous chuckle as you play with your hair. “I-I mean... Wow, would you look at the time! We gotta meet with Poppy and the others!”
John Dory stops you on your tracks and demands an explanation, which isn't really good for your poor heart. All you can do is kick the dirt and avoid his gaze, since that makes what you're about to say much easier to voice aloud.
“I mean... You're John Dory. You could date any troll you wanted and yet you're sticking with me. It honestly feels like a dream sometimes... And I'm scared of the day you realize you can do WAY better and decide to leave me.”
After processing this, he immediately holds your face in his hands and gives you the most serious expression you've ever seen on him. “I don't want just any random troll... I want you. You're my number one fan, and I'm yours, so don't even think about stuff like that, okay?”
After the exchange, he's always on the lookout for whenever your bad habit wants to kick in again and is ready to stop it ASAP
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Spruce/Bruce
He notices it happens mostly when you're working at the cantina.
Whenever you get an order wrong, trip over your own feet or don't remember how to work one of the machines properly, you'll go into an awkward insecure flight response.
You'll say “Oops! Sorry! Clumsy Twinkle Toes, coming through!” while grinning and laughing along with the customers, but Bruce knows that it's affecting you more than you lead on.
It also happens whenever BroZone is getting ready to perform and you don't know what to do with yourself since you're “standing in the way”, despite being told multiple times that it's okay for you to be backstage with everyone else.
When he talks to you about it, you get really uncomfortable and just say that it's no big deal and that you can handle it.
“I've always been a clumsy person, so I guess that's always making me doubt myself over the smallest of things... Sorry if it's annoying.”
Bruce will then proceed to give you a huge warm hug and a kiss on the forehead as he whispers comforting words into your ear.
“Hey, I can be clumsy too! I've always been the worst out of everyone when it comes to choreography. Don't tell JD though, cause I know he'll throw a fit knowing I don't practice.”
He'll throw in other examples that may seem inconsequential to you, but you appreciate the effort nonetheless and smile and giggle through the embarrassing stories he shares.
He helps you get more confident by being there with you while taking orders at the cantina and praising you whenever you get something right— albeit in private as to not embarrass you.
Same goes with rehearsals, where he WILL drag you into the lounge area to hang with his brothers and/or Poppy and Viva when they decide to visit, too.
Overall he wants what's best for you and will try and push you out of your comfort zone, but only in a safe environment where he knows that if something does go wrong, it won't be as catastrophic as you make it out to be in your head.
You never stop thanking him for being your crutch during these times.
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Clay
The moment he hears the words come out of your mouth he's completely flabbergasted.
First of all, who said those things to you? Because he swears he just wants to talk to them—
It's at a sleepover with his brothers and the gals at the Bergen Golf Course, and among the many games, snacks and movies watched, pictures are also taken.
As soon as you take a look at the array of selfies, you let out what sounds like a mix between a laugh and a sigh.
“I mean, at least it stays consistent— in photos, I look ugly. And in real life, I'm also ugly!”
As soon as those words leave your lips, Clay is at your side with an almost unreadable expression, only to snatch one of the photos from your hands. “How DARE you say that about the most attractive troll I've ever met? Shame on you!”
He then starts going around the room waving the picture around to his brothers, saying stuff like “Look how attractive my S/O is! I'm dating them!” while you're just blushing profusely and begging him to stop (even though deep down your kinda giddy about it).
After that day, Clay will do small gestures in which he reminds you how beautiful he thinks you are. Everything to outright saying it each morning, joking about it with his brothers, and even bragging about you to his friends in the Bergen Golf Course.
He's a simp and he's totally okay with that because it's you.
Clay feels like he's the luckiest troll in the world for being able to snatch someone like you since he's “the most boring and uninteresting of the bunch”, so he feels like he's hit the jackpot.
You immediately tell him that he's not boring to you and that he's the best boyfriend ever, which only causes him to smirk.
“Doesn't feel good to know the person you love feels so bad about themselves, does it?”
Finally realizing his reverse psychology, you give in with a laugh. “No, it doesn't. I guess... We can both work on that? Together?”
And so you do, and end up helping each other whenever one is feeling down in the dumps, as a sort of personal cheerleader. You truly couldn't have asked for someone better.
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Floyd
You're the kind of person who's very vocal about your interests.
So it's no surprise that you have to catch yourself mid-ramble whenever you're talking about something you're either interested in or knowledgeable about. And with Floyd being such a good listener, it honestly slips your mind more times than you'd prefer.
After realizing you've been talking for too long, you turn pink in the face and start apologizing profusely.
“Sorry! You probably didn't need to hear all of that. They didn't call me ‘Chatter Box’ when I was younger for nothing! Haha...”
But Floyd could care less about any of that. He loves hearing you talk, not just because he's not much of a chatty person, but because he just finds it incredibly endearing.
He'll hold your hands in his own and give you the softest smile ever that just makes you think that it should be illegal to be THIS sweet.
“You're just so cute when you get lost in the moment like that. Besides, I love seeing you happy. By all means, I'm glad you get to do the talking for the both of us, otherwise we wouldn't get anywhere in this relationship.”
You laugh at his attempt to make you feel better and melt under the touch of his lips on your cheek.
After that, whenever you go out either just the two of you or with your group of friends, Floyd will encourage you to express yourself. He does this by either asking you a question directly or subtly incorporating you into the conversation by saying something like. “I think (y/n) knows about this kinda stuff. Don't you, love?”
Obviously this all happens with your consent beforehand, since he doesn't want to put you in a tight spot, either.
Either way, he always values whatever you have to say, since you always bring in new perspectives that maybe others didn't think about before.
He will also encourage you to be yourself and not try and match your topics of conversation with things you think other people will find interesting. You deserve to be happy by sharing what you love with the world.
Poppy and Viva are huge helps in the art of feeling confident by speaking your mind, and Floyd couldn't be happier for you.
You thank him by telling him about your day each night, in which sometimes he'll fall asleep to the soothing sound of your voice, which only warms your heart on so many levels.
“Goodnight, my prince.”
“Goodnight, my little chatter box.”
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Branch
Just like Clay, this man is ready to throw hands.
Just give him a name and he'll get the job done before sunrise—
He notices that sometimes you struggle with finding outfits for different occasions, either something casual, dressy, classy, etc.
But it's not because you don't have anything in your wardrobe, on the contrary it's pretty much brimming. It's more the fact that you're not satisfied with any of them because you feel like you don't look good in them.
Branch tries to convince you otherwise, saying that you look great no matter what you wear, but you can't help but feel self-conscious in anything that isn't a good old sweatshirt.
He isn't knowledgeable in fashion (clearly) so he enlists the help of Poppy and The Snack Pack to try and cater outfits to your exact measurements, along with any other nitpicks you've had in the past with either texture or material.
I mean, Branch has backup plans to his backup plans, you think he wouldn't keep notes on what kind of stuff his S/O doesn't like— INCLUDING mundane stuff like their clothing?
He surprises you with these, and you can't help but feel attractive in them since he paid extra attending to the complaints you had from your own designs.
“I personally think you look great no matter what you wear. But if you feel so strongly about it, might as well get some stuff you'll actually enjoy wearing.” He'd said when you asked why he did it, and your heart just melted.
You vow to try and work on your self-imagine regardless, which he gets happy over and says he can't wait for you to see yourself the way he does.
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sannylity · 11 months
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Listen. We need to put emphasis and appreciate Charlie’s characterization of his QSMP character because holy shit, on top of being silly, today has provided so much depth to Q!Charlie as a whole.
It’s heart wrenching outside humor when you think about it.
“Your marriage is not strengthened by good nights, or good sex, it is tested by people like me, who come to cause problems.”
This dialogue to Roier puts Mariana’s cheating allegations into perspective. Whether it’s canon that he did or didn’t, it tells us how much Charlie has forgiven and given him a chance.
People like me, is such a heavy emphasis on his self-awareness that he is toxic and problematic and insanity. Subtle self-deprecating at its finest, just to emotionally scar us further.
Charlie always being a willing participant to cause problems on purpose is an effect of not having anything to lose anymore. Juanaflippa is gone, and he hasn’t seen Mariana in a while. He has been severely lonely and isolated since his exile, and he is numb to it that he “doesn’t feel anything”, according to what he told Foolish.
“Necesito amor.” [I need love.]
But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t need or want love. He desperately does, by all means necessary, even if it’s by being a willing participant to cause problems to others. He’ll take what he can get because he hasn’t moved on and won’t let go of his daughter being gone.
He did once believe that Mariana could fix him, I think he said this to Jaiden after the trial was over and done with. He believed this because Mariana is someone who can ground him and keep him from doing something incredibly stupid.
They ground each other. It’s evident during the funeral, with Mariana offering that they kill themselves and Charlie saying no, and then vice versa. It’s not a coincidence that he is more “tamed” when Mariana’s with him.
Things that happen when Charlie is by himself: makes a deal with Satan to get his daughter a gun, attempting to slaughter all the eggs, refuses to resurface back up in the mines during exile, suggesting the gegg idea to Quackity and executing it, and now this.
Without Mariana, Charlie is out there by himself, not knowing how to deal and handle his grief, his loneliness and isolation, his desperation for love.
And to think none of this would’ve happened if Cellbit just kept his fucking mouth shut and didn’t remind him of their kiss LMAOOO
We can all say Charlie is being a menace, but y’all gotta be reminded that the man is a D&D player. He sprinkles such hard hitting dialogues in between the laughs.
Charlie is killing me with the potential angst he just brought to the table. I am going insane NSJDJSJDJS
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pleasurebuttonwrites · 5 months
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Irritated
Matt Murdock x F!Reader | Explicit 18+ | 2.2K
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Summary Cooking for Matt goes all wrong and your insecurities come out.
Warnings smut, oral (f receiving), angst with a happy ending
A/N First time writing for Matt. The perfectionism was strong with this one - this has been sitting for months and I'm finally posting.
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The cloud of smoke is quickly filling the apartment. You had turned the burners off, but the charred mass in the skillet is still sizzling. You crank the vent hood fan on high, and open a window. It isn’t enough.
As he’s racing home across the rooftops, the smell singes his nostrils. His body is exhausted but it gives him a dose of adrenaline before he realizes that it’s not a fire, just a burnt dinner.
Dinner? At this time of night?
That’s when it dawns on him. The smell is coming from his apartment. Maybe it’s my neighbor, he hopes with half-hearted optimism. With the way his night has gone, he doesn’t think he’ll get that lucky.
You’re fanning the smoke out of the window, using one of Matt’s law document tomes in Braille, when you hear the door to the roof. You speed up your fanning, as if that will in any way remove the smell from the apartment.
His footsteps are on the steps now and you turn to apologize — with some self-deprecating humor to relieve your anxiety — when you catch the irritation on his face. Cautiously, you say, “I’m sorry about the smoke. I was just trying to cook and I don’t know what—”
“It’s fine.” He cuts you off with words a little too flat and forceful to be sincere.
That familiar feeling washes over you. You had expected it to happen sooner or later, and here it was. He was finally figuring out that you were more trouble than you were worth.
He tosses his mask on the chair and yanks off his gloves, his mood infecting every motion. Without another word to you he retreats to his room and closes the door behind him.
From the other side of the door, Matt catches the way your breath hitches, hears you gather your things and walk out. He wants to stop you but the devil still has a hold on him and he knows he could only make things worse now.
He knew this would happen sooner or later. He knew he’d drive you away. Took longer than he thought it would. He tells himself the smart thing to do would be to let you go. Just let it end here.
But he hears your footsteps on the pavement outside. You’re walking home instead of taking a cab. He throws a shirt and pants on over his suit, and chases after you.
You only make it a block before he walks out of the shadows and strolls along next to you, not even winded from catching up.
“You shouldn’t be out here alone. You could get hurt.”
He says it so matter-of-factly, resentfully even. If he’s there out of real concern for you, rather than a sense of duty, he doesn’t show it. You say nothing to that and he doesn’t speak again.
The walk seems to take longer under the weight of the silence between you. When you finally get to your building’s door, you unlock it quickly and step inside. You don’t even look at Matt as you push the door closed behind you. But before it can latch, he catches it.
“Sweetheart,” he begins. “I’m sorry about the way I— the way I acted. It had nothing to do with you. I had a shitty night and I should’ve cooled off before coming home.”
When he puts it like that, it makes you seem unreasonable. Softly, apologetically, you say, “No, you should get to cool off in your own home.”
The words you’re not saying hang in the air between you but you feel too foolish to speak them so instead you stand there in the doorway, picking at your nails, looking down at them instead of him. He reaches out and stills your fidgeting, his warm hand enveloping both of yours. “What is it, sweetheart? Will you talk to me, please?”
Your first instinct is to lie, but the way he subtly turns his ear to you lets you know he’s listening to your heartbeat. Your pulse picks up just from knowing he’ll know if you lie.
You let out a sigh. “I just— I feel like I can’t do anything right.”
His brows furrow and he lifts his chin. You wait for him to prompt you but he’s going to keep silent until you tell him everything. He’s stubborn like that.
You remind yourself that he actually wants to know. He’s asking you for the truth. You take a deep breath, gearing up for an act of trust, and you let it all spill out. “All I do is make everything worse. I mean, I don’t bring anything to this relationship. But I thought maybe I could make you a nice meal. Then I’d be good for something. And that blew up in my face. Almost literally.”
A thick silence follows and you think he must be struggling and failing to dispute anything you’ve said. But you realize you’ve read it all wrong when he says in a quiet and deadly voice, “You think you don’t bring anything to our relationship?”
That voice — his devil’s voice — never fails to light a fire inside you. The sudden heat on your skin makes the night air feel that much cooler, and you shiver. His nostrils flare as he inhales deeply, taking in all the ways your body has reacted to him.
He steps forward into your building, and you step back. “It seems I haven’t properly showed you how important you are to me.”
As he advances, you back down the hallway. You can’t take your eyes off his face. The naked desire, the grim determination, the devil stalking his prey. You nearly collide with the staircase banister, but he gently guides you out of the way with a hand on your hip. One he doesn’t remove until you get to your door.
He plucks the keys from your hands and feels for the right one before quickly unlocking your door. It swings open but you both stand at the threshold.
“Matt,” you begin. As much as your body is begging for him, you feel guilty that the whole situation got turned around. You were trying to prove something to him and now he’s the one putting in the effort. Again. “I just feel like I haven’t yet earned your love.”
He hangs his head, exhaling his frustration. “First of all, you don’t need to earn my love. Secondly, if you even think for one second that you don’t deserve it, then I’ve failed you.”
“No, stop! I’m the one who fucked up, okay?” You storm past him into your apartment. He follows you inside, shutting the door behind him.
He draws in a breath to say something, but thinks better of it. He nods and says simply, “Okay.”
It’s the way he gives in that has you on alert. He never just gives in; he’s planning something.
“Make it up to me, then,” he tells you.
“How?”
“Take off your pants.”
“Matt—”
“I said, take off your pants.”
“That can’t be all I’m good for.”
“Sweetheart, I promise you we will find a way for you to feel deserving in this relationship. But right now, let me surround myself with your scent so I can get this smoke out of my nostrils.”
How were you supposed to think straight when he says things like that to you? You really wanted to give him what he wanted, but it didn’t feel right. “Well then that’s just you doing something for me again and I still can’t give you anything.”
He flashes that grin he uses during cross-examination when he’s about to tear the prosecution’s case to shreds. “You wanted to feed me. Now let me eat.”
You don’t know how he does it. But as soon as you stopped protesting, he had you naked with your ass at the edge of the couch and him kneeling in front of you.
“Spread your legs for me,” he says in a low, soft voice. You do as he says. He takes one deep breath and whines, his tongue flicking out over his bottom lip. “I can already taste you.”
He starts on your thighs, pressing kisses from your knee to the hinge at your hip all along the soft, sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You feel the heat of his breath pass over your cunt before he kisses his way down to your other knee.
He’s doing it on purpose. Taking his time and lavishing you with kisses. Giving again. The guilt washes over you. “Matt—”
He shushes you just as the pad of his thumb brushes at your entrance, collecting your slick before sliding up to your clit. Your eyes roll back into your head and your words die on your lips. He applies just the right amount of pressure as he works circles over your sensitive nub. You whimper at his touch and he gives a satisfied hum in response.
It feels so good yet it’s not enough. “Matty, please.” Your voice is barely even a whisper but he hears you loud and clear. He lifts his thumb to his lips, moaning as your taste hits his tongue at last.
You expect to feel his mouth on you but instead he brings his hands together and says, “Bless us O Lord and these Thy gifts—”
“Matt—”
His name is no sooner from your mouth than his lips wrap around your clit, and you cry out from the pleasure. His skilled tongue slides through your folds and dips into your entrance. You clench around nothing, pushing more of your juices onto his greedy tongue. You don’t have to worry about making a mess on the couch. He’d never let one drop of you spill.
You honestly don’t know which of you are making more noise. He’s so vocal even with his mouth as busy as it is. He grunts and moans with every exhale, and every inhale is a heavy intake through his nose — when it’s not pressed into you.
Your hand, outstretched at your side, grips a throw pillow, the stuffing clumped beneath your palm, your fingers wrinkling the fabric. Matt clamps his hand over yours — while his tongue continues swirling — and guides you to the crown of his head. You grip a fistful of his hair and instinctively pull him even tighter to you.
His moans muffle but grow more desperate. In truth, you try hard not to make more sound than your breath, just to catch every unhinged noise of his.
You’re so close now. You can’t help but raise your hips a bit, humping his face as his tongue works you over. The vibration of his growl sends you over the edge. No matter how quiet you’ve been trying to be, the force of your orgasm rips pleas from your lips. “Matty…fuck! Oh, Matty, hngh…”
As you come down from your high, you loosen your grip on his hair and he slowly pulls away from you. You take in the sight of him. A bit of his Daredevil suit peeks beneath his shirt. His hair is mussed, hairline damp with sweat, and his mouth and chin are coated with you. He licks his lips and smiles and it’s totally unfair how pretty he is just like this.
You let your head fall back, your breathing slowly returning to normal. But the drop in your heart rate coincides with the rise of your thoughts, and the feelings of guilt, shame, unworthiness. You don’t know why you can’t just accept his love. But no matter how much you try to trust that he means what he says, you can’t shake the feeling that you’ve fooled him somehow. And he’s going to wake up one day realizing his mistake.
Almost as if he can read your thoughts —
“Sweetheart, if you need me between your legs to chase away your thoughts, I’m more than happy to be of service, but it’s probably not the healthiest way to deal with it.”
“Matt Murdock’s lecturing me on what’s healthy.”
“I know. I know.” He gives you that wide smile. So comforting that it’s impossible to feel anything but warmth when he smiles at you like that. Then he gives your thigh a little smack and says, “Let’s get cleaned up.”
Later, while you’re laying in bed together, his body cradled around yours, you’re both too tired to continue the conversation you know you need to have, a conversation of the ongoing variety. In the quiet and the dark you both feel your insecurities rise. Matt is pretty sure he’ll end up driving you away. You’re pretty sure he’ll realize you aren’t as great as he thinks and leave. But both of you really want this to work and you’re both willing to work on it.
Your thoughts hazy, your breath becoming rhythmic, you speak into the dark. “I don’t have to cook for you, you know. Like if you don’t want me to. Do you want me to?”
He hums in response, sleep nearly stealing his ability to speak. “If you want to… then I want that…too. But you don’t have to. But you can. You can use my kitchen whenever you want. If you want.”
You’re both quiet again and you nearly fall asleep then he says, “Just not for a few days. Let the smoke clear. ‘M staying at yours til then.”
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p1utofairy · 1 month
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PICK A CARD: BARBIE edition.
★ which one of your manifestations is coming towards you?
NOTE: take what resonates, leave what doesn’t. i feel like people are in need of some positivity and encouragement so here you go! 🍬
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pile one.
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hi pile 1 🌞 wow i feel like you have a very bright personality! it's so potent and beautiful. you can light up any room you walk into, and once you start seeing your beauty for what it truly is, that's when you'll really become a magnet for the things you desire. i feel like you've come out of some deep situations that left you confused or wondering about your true purpose in this lifetime – but don’t let anyone or any situation ever dim your light or take away your power. your soul purpose is really special and i think you’ve been looking for clarity or some sort of answer/solution to this lack that you’re feeling in your soul. you will definitely receive a message and/or an answer to what you’ve been seeking to find. i see this manifestation being a dream come true, pile 1.
you’ve put the work in and now you’re about to reap the benefits of your labor. this could be a new job, career path/major, business opportunity or an increase in your finances. your spirit guides want you to put yourself out there and say YES to whatever this message might be. you already have the motivation and desire for it, so it just requires you to take action and be confident in your choices in order to receive it. you might downplay yourself a lot or make self-deprecating jokes that ultimately put you in a lack mindset. i’m hearing “psh…yeah right. i doubt something as extravagant and nice as that would happen to me.” but why? whose to say what tomorrow will bring? your guides want you to lean more into your optimism and have faith in yourself, and understand that you truly deserve all the great things that are about to unfold in your life.
you know how to make light of situations, so use that to your advantage. i feel like you have a great sense of humor lol but be kinder to yourself okay? it can be really tough when life starts throwing curve balls at you, but it’s what you choose to make of it. as phil dunphy from ‘modern family’ said, “if life gives you lemonade - make lemons and life will be all like whaaaaat?!” so go out there and show the world what you’re made of!
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pile two.
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heyyy pile 2! i feel like you're coming out of a period of grief or a loss of some sort – a powerful transformation. i feel like this is more about letting go of a toxic mindset and freeing yourself from negative energy/situations rather than on a physical level. for some of you, a loved one could have recently passed or a connection you had with someone ended but i think it’s more so that you’re in a period of transition and starting to accept things for what they truly are. you’re no longer letting anything or anyone hold you back. you’re gaining momentum in your life path, and your spirit guides are so very proud of you!
they see how much it’s taken you to get to this point in your journey. it’s taken a lot of patience and discipline, but you’ve persevered and made it through - and for that you will be rewarded. i feel like you’ve been trying to manifest a change of some sort…whether that be physically moving out, going on a vacation/traveling, going out more or just a genuine change in your everyday life; i’m happy to say that you will be receiving that! you’ve been slowly but surely focusing on yourself and nourishing your mind, body and soul. you’re now starting to realize that you can accomplish anything you set your mind to…you might be seeing a lot of signs/confirmations like angel numbers, repeating patterns, symbols or animals.
you’re starting to realize that surrender is key - not everything can be in our control and sometimes that’s a tough pill to swallow but that’s just the way of life and it usually works out in our best interest in the long run. a flow of abundance is on its way to you. you can manifest anything you want in this lifetime, it just comes down to your mindset and the power of your words. continue to be at ease and let your actions speak for itself, you don’t have to prove or explain yourself to anyone. you’re on the brink of success and it’s coming in fast, just make sure to always stay grounded and remember where you came from. heavy is the head that wears the crown; you know what you’re capable of and what you deserve so don’t let the pressure and weight of life hold you down. keep moving forward, it’s all going to work out in your favor.
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pile three.
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pile 333 i just wanna give y'all a hug 🥲 y'all are really going through it right now. heavy water sign energy. do y'all have any pisces, cancer or scorpio in your chart? i get the sense of someone laying in bed…just staring at the ceiling like why? why me? you're trying to process a lot of intense emotions and center your energy, but it's taking a toll on you right now. you feel very alone and and unsure if you can talk to anyone about this. not even trying to be funny, but yeah it's giving existential crisis barbie.
if you've seen the ‘barbie’ movie, you know the scene where barbie just gives up and lays down flat on the ground and they're like "she's not dead. she's just having an existential crisis." 😃 real AF but no no no you gotta quiet down your mind. you can 100% feel and process your way through these emotions, but don't let them take control over you and make you feel like you’re doing something wrong or like you’re not doing enough – release that negative energy! i feel like your mind is going a mile per minute, and you can’t even form a rational thought without getting upset. in terms of your manifestation, i feel like you’re really craving love right now. you’re ready to go out there and bag the person of your dreams, but your guides just want you to first take this time to quiet your mind and trust in them & second believe that love is going to find you no matter what. don’t force it…don’t question it — believe it.
you could’ve had a couple of instances where you thought it was the real thing, but it turned out to be really disappointing and not what you wanted. that’s your spirit guides telling you that you can’t force it. this new relationship will find you naturally and it will be everything you’ve ever dreamed of plus more! this person will not only be your lover, but they’ll be your best friend and your confidant. you will feel absolutely liberated and comfortable to take on any challenge with them by your side. however, you need to let this wave of emotions pass and understand that what’s meant for you will NEVER pass you. you got this my pile 333's 🦋 it will be in reach soon.
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lovelytsunoda · 6 months
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god knows I’ve tried // yuki tsunoda
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summary: stranded at her publishers office after the battery in her car dies, there’s only one person she wants to call for a jumpstart.
pairing: yuki tsunoda x lawson!reader
warnings: self-deprecating humor, y/n is very self critical, yuki is her night in shining armour, total lack of christmas spirit, anxiety.
author's note: this resonates so personally with me and i feel so fricking attached to this story and all the people in it. please treat it kindly :)
so go on judge me by my cover, and no I’ll never have another. baby I’ve been bad, but god knows I’ve tried to be good
it's too early for damn christmas lights, she huffed to herself as she left the office, juggling the volkswagen keys that dangled from her fingertips with the large cardboard box between her arms, staring at the lights and tinsel hung up on the light poles. cursing to herself and trying not to drop anything, she fumbled for the unlock button, ready to ditch the box in her trunk.
her volkswagen golf stood solitary and alone in the parking lot, no other cars for miles. if liam was here, he'd be asking where her pepper spray was, god forbid anything happen to his baby sister.
there was only a year between them, but sometimes she swore that liam acted as if there were five.
the cold dug into her skin as she hobbled through the parking lot, trying to keep her head on a swivel as she once again asked herself why she had parked so far away from any other car. she fumbled with the trunk button (which was unresponsive a lot more than it actually opened the trunk), unceremoniously dumping the box so hard that the small red car started to shake.
she slammed the trunk shut, frowning as she ran a fingertip over the small spot of rust that had begun to form where the silver letters proclaimed to the world what kind of car she drove met the painted trunk door.
she opened the car door, slipping into the driver's seat and staring at the overhead door lights, which had not illuminated as they were intended to when the door opens.
"motherfucker." she mumbled. "i'm gonna have to replace the latch, aren't i?" this was not new. she'd had multiple issues with the car, buying it from a dealership that advertised mostly on facebook.
never again, the next car she buys will be certified pre-owned from a volkswagen dealer, not a used car lot.
the latch would need replacing eventually: it had already locked up the door and prevented her from opening her car, even after smashing the unlock button on her keys five times. she rolled her eyes, closing the door and sliding the key into the ignition.
the key turned, but the car didn't start. growing increasingly panicked, she turned the key a few more times, the same ministrations that normally started up the ten year old car.
"fuck!" she howled, slamming her hands down on the steering wheel as the engine refused to turn over again. she reached for the headlight button, feeling her stomach drop to the floor when there was no response from the headlights.
the engine battery was dead.
she was stranded, alone, in a dark parking lot at night.
it didn't get more fucked than that.
she reached for her phone, the screen providing the only light source as she fumbled for the lock button, and making sure her finger hovered steadily over the panic alarm on her keys. just in case.
who was she going to call, she wondered, scrolling through her contacts. definitely not liam, she couldn't trouble him like that. remind him that she'd always need protecting. she could call her best friend, but the likelihood that margot would know what to do was slim. besides, she was probably out with her boyfriend if she wasn't at work.
her finger hovered over a name, and she debated long and hard if it was worth it, if she was really desperate enough to ask him for help. would he come? would he consider it strange that his best friend's baby sister was calling in the middle of the night because she was dumb enough to drain her car battery?
right now, it didn't look like she really had a choice. unless she wanted to call a tow truck and be out a couple hundred bucks.
"hello?"
"yuki, it's y/n. i need your help."
when the headlights of yuki's honda civic type r lit up the parking lot, she could have cried from relief. the dead battery also meant no heat, and she was chilled to the bone, teeth chattering together as she clutched her phone in one hand and her keys in the other.
"thank god you're here!" she blurted, scrambling out of the car as yuki pulled into the parking space on her passenger side. "i didn't know who else to call!"
ah, yes. yuki tusnoda. backlit by his headlights, he looked like a guardian angel. he'd been close with the lawsons since he came to england, being practically adopted when he moved in with liam at milton keynes, like some fucked up version of a college roommate scheme.
not to mention that he was funny, hot as hell, and she never knew if his cheerful, gentle ribbing meant he looked at her as more than a friend. every time he gifted her a casserole dish of something he had cooked, or invited her out when he and liam went somewhere, she couldn't help but think that maybe he liked her the way that she liked him.
in a way that was anything but just friendly.
"didn't you just get something fixed on your car?" yuki frowned popping his car hood open and digging around in his glove box for the jumper cables.
"i changed a headlight last week. the last major thing was the driveshaft, i couldn't fix that myself, had to take it in." she frowned, lifting up the hood of her own car, using her phone light to find the battery cover. "the car is a piece of shit, but at least it's reliable. and the driveshaft was covered by the dealership since it should have been on the safety certification and wasn't."
yuki frowned, untangling the cables before he dropped them to the pavement, peeling off his puffer jacket. "your lips are blue. take my jacket. i doubt liam would like it if let his little sister get hypothermia"
"pneumonia."
"same difference."
"not really." she laughed, pulling yuki's jacket over her own thin flannel trench coat. she hated wearing a thick winter coat when she drove, relying almost entirely on her car's heated seats to keep warm without suffocating.
"if i get sick because i sacrificed my jacket for you, i should hope that you'd be the one to take care of me. you know, since it was your own fault." yuki chuckled, hooking up the cables as y/n tried to keep warm
"fuck you. i could have stayed in the car."
"the car doesn't have heat either."
oh. yeah. she forgot about that one.
"well, i could have stayed in your fancy ass sports car." it didn't matter how she phrased it, she was just trying to butter him up. on a normal day, she made fun of him for driving a honda civic, calling it a 'mom-mobile'.
with the jumper cables fully connected, they both settled into the honda to wait it out. usually, the rule of thumb was fifteen minutes, but she wasn;t sure that she could stand to be in a car with yuki for that long without doing something reckless.
she slipped out of his jacket, moving to pass it to him before he gestured vaguely to the backseat. the heated seats were on, but she could still see the puffs of air leaving her body as she breathed heavily.
"thanks for coming. i didn't know who to call."
yuki turned to look at her, turning down the volume on the radio. it was a shame, too. she was quite enjoying 'teenage dirtbag'. "why didn't you call liam?"
"pride, i think. he's always been the favourite, the one that stuck with it, the one that made something of himself. i don't need to admit to him that i need help, that i don't know things. because i do, it just sometimes takes me a little longer to get it, or i give up too quickly."
yuki frowned. "liam worries about you, you know. he doesn't like seeing you upset. and he's always been proud of you, so have your parents."
she shivered, pulling her sleeves over her hands. "it's just always been more upfront with liam. they keep telling me that i give up on things too quickly. you know, i realized the other day that i don't really have any hobbies any more. outside of paint nights with the girls, i don't paint anymore. i don't do any sports. reading is really all i do any more."
"that doesn't define your worth, you know. you've got other things going on right now that are taking up your time." yuki encouraged, fiddling with the heating dial. "hey, speaking of which, what are you doing here so late at night?"
she groaned, tilting her head back. "god, this is embarrassing." she hid her head in her hands before turning back to yuki. "promise not to laugh too hard?"
"why would i laugh at you?"
"i was picking up advance copies of my first book." she turned and looked out the window, at the empty parking lot illuminated solely by yuki's headlights. "i've spent the better part of the last two years working on it, and i'm scared i'm going to fail at it like i failed at everything else."
she felt a warm hand overtop of hers. "that's incredible. that's such a major accomplishment, y/n. why are you doubting yourself? you've made it this far."
she smiled, turning to face him. "yeah, but how many people want to read about a detective in small-town new zealand who lives in a haunted house?"
yuki raised an eyebrow. "you already have my interest."
and what great author could resist going on and on about their latest endeavor?
"okay, so it's about this detective in new zealand, she's just moved to this small town as part of a so-called promotion, but really she was desperate and only took the job because she wanted out of the city, a nice change of scenery and whatever. but after she moves in, she finds out the house is haunted and the ghosts actually end up helping her solve her first big case."
she left out the part about how there were three ghosts: one was a dead rockstar, one was a nineteen-thirties midwife and the other was a dead nun. the witty banter between the group of them was a joy to write.
"she also has a crush on this guy who lives across the street. he's an autobody mechanic, with a collection of classic cars."
who totally wasn't inspired by yuki and his gorgeous brown eyes or luscious black hair. well, her one argument was that book guy was about a foot taller than yuki was.
"hell yeah, i'd read that." yuki laughed. "or i'd watch the movie, depending on how long the book was."
y/n laughed, and it felt good. it felt like it had bene forever since she laughed. "it's a cozy mystery series, so it's supposed to make you laugh, be predictable. i took notes from agatha christie, the best of the best. i just hope that the general consumer market also sees it that way."
"i'm sure you'll do fine. as long as it's not like, five hundred pages long, i can't see why anybody wouldn't want to read it."
catching y/n's eye, yuki snickered. "it's not that long, is it?"
"no, it's just under three hundred. they made me cut the sex scenes out."
she watched yuki's eyes go wide, before she burst out laughing as well.
"i'm kidding!" she giggled. "i'm kidding, there aren't any sex scenes in cozy mysteries."
despite how warm the car was, a shiver went down yukis spine at the thought that the innocent, angelic young woman sitting next him, separated only only by the center console, had written numerous sex scenes.
“would you read it? now that you know how many pages it has?”
“yes.” yuki insisted. “of course I would. Liam’s shown me some of your novellas. you are such a good writer. a real talent.”
she yawned, leaning back against the leather seat with a yawn and a shake of her head. “if this book crashes and burns, I’ll remind you you said that. hey, would you be willing to give me a starred review to print on the back cover?”
yuki hummed for a minute, looking up at the sunroof and then back at the girl sitting next to him. “hmm, great mystery, lovely author, not enough sex and could use more descriptions of food.” he joked, playfully gripping her shoulder.
“yeah, yeah. you think you’re so funny.” she laughed, pushing his arm off her shoulder. “but I’m glad that you’re here. you make much better company than my brother does.”
yukis hand dropped to her thigh, thumb gently rubbing along her jeans. “always. any time you need me, you know I’m a phone call away.”
yeah, bust she wished he was closer than even that. and if she kept staring into his dark ocean eyes, she feared she’d do something she’d regret. something impulsive and reckless and foolish but god damn would it have felt fucking good.
“y/n, you good? you’re kind of staring into space there.” yuki frowned, waving a nimble hand in front of her face, trying to capture her attention.
she chuckled. “not space, just the dashboard lights.”
“isn’t that a meat loaf song?”
she laughed, the sound coming from so deep in her chest as she turned to look at yuki. really, it shouldn’t have been that funny. all she knew was that she really, really wanted to kiss him.
she didn’t wait, lunging across the center console, hands shaking nervously as she rested them on either side of his face, pressing her chapped lips to his.
she had to hold herself back from moaning as yuki kissed her back, his warm hand caressing her sides under her open trench coat.
his touch was soft, safe, and comforting. but it was also electric, and left her wanting more when he finally pulled away for air.
“your car is probably charged”. he said nervously, blushing pink as he wiped away the saliva from his mouth. “I’d hate to kiss and run, but you probably want to get home.”
she rested her forehead against his, laughing softly as he rubbed his thumb over her wrist. “at least take me out to dinner before you kiss me and leave me hanging.”
“it’s a little late for dinner, but how does a late night caramel sundae sound?” he suggested weakly, shrugging his shoulders. mcdonalds was hardly first date material, but he knew he didn’t want this night to end, didn’t want to risk losing this magical moment.
“you drive and I’ll follow?”
“sounds good.” yuki grinned, kissing her again. “but just let me kiss you for a few more minutes to make sure that battery is well and truly charged.”
TAGS:
@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @lorarri @cartierre @sidcrosbyspuck @userlando @httpiastri @love4lando @oconso @thatsdemko @monzabee
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farfromstrange · 8 months
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Just Let Me Love You | Matt Murdock x Reader
Masterlist
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader (f!Reader heavily implied)
Summary: You're struggling with your body image and Matt notices
Warnings: Angst, TW: allusions to an ED, self-deprecating talk (Reader has internalized fatphobia toward herself), not proof red (I was too emotional for that)
Word Count: 2.1k
A/n: So, my body is changing and I hate it. As someone who was the Fat Funny Friend growing up, I got inspired by the song. Now I wasn't sure if to tag for a plus-sized reader because when I wrote this, I had myself in mind, and I'm not even sure what "category" I fall into, so this is pretty universal and I think any of you who are struggling with body dysmorphia might appreciate this. Heed the warnings before proceeding and don't forget to eat if you haven't already! (Also, I used my tag list to tag for this, but don't read it if this triggers you, please!)
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Our brains are wired to function in a certain way. But not every brain is balanced in chemistry. 
For the longest time, she thought there was something seriously wrong with her. She never fit in anywhere, so she tried to make herself fit. Change her attitude, change her behavior, change her hobbies, and change the way she looks. She did it so many times, she lost count. 
She relied on humor, telling funny little anecdotes to make whatever friend group she was a part of at the time laugh at her. But that was all she could do. Make them laugh. She lit up the mood, lit up the room, but she seemingly never lit up anyone’s heart the way her friends did. 
They talked about their relationships, talked about their families and friends, and she played along. She listened. When she talked about her likes, they pretended to care, but within minutes, they lost interest. She thought it just wasn’t that important. Not as important as how beautiful they all were, anyway. And they were striking, she thought. That’s why everyone always chose them and never approached her. But she swallowed it to at least be a part of something. 
She always helped everyone but herself. She was there when no one else was, but even when she was a part of something, she never fully fit in. There was an impossible standard looming over her head, and she couldn’t possibly reach it. 
Don’t be too loud. Don’t be too silly. Don’t say no. Don’t talk about your problems, only listen to everyone else’s. Don’t believe that he wants you because he is too good for you, and all he wants is your best friend who is ten times prettier than you. And don’t believe that personality and humor will get you anywhere; you will end up miserably alone the same way people who look like you always will. 
The same voice, over and over again. Word turning into knives. It was exhausting to fight against the demons within her because they just sounded so damn convincing. 
When she met him, the man who stole her heart, she never thought he would ask her out. When he did, she was dumbfounded. In every possible situation, he found himself assuring her that he wouldn’t drop her for the pretty blonde in the office, or his psychotic ex-girlfriend who just happened to have the most beautiful body known to man. To her, at least. Everyone around him was just so beautiful, and he was even more so–he was the prettiest specimen in the world, and everyone desired him. Of course, she grew insecure. She couldn’t help it. It was a reflex.
She fell in love with a man who finally saw her for who she was and he loved her despite—no, he loved her regardless. For who she was. He took her, accepted her, and began seeing her as the most beautiful person in the world. For the first time, she felt appreciated, loved, and not so miserably alone. 
Yet, the fear continued to linger. The fear that one day, he would notice that perhaps, a woman of average looks wouldn’t be enough for him anymore. That she was, indeed, as unconventionally unattractive as everyone said she was from the first day she actually understood what was being said to her. She was just a child then. 
The funny friend. The awkward friend. The weird one. The girl without real friends. The girl with the silly clothes, the silly smile, the slightly crooked teeth, the belly pouch… The girl who lost weight, the girl who gained weight, and the girl who shouldn’t be so proud of herself because she had nothing to be proud of. 
“Sweetheart?” he asked her, yanking her out of the downward spiral that only continued to get worse over time. “Did you have anything to eat yet?”
He stood in the kitchen, the sleeves of his dress shirt bunched around his elbow. It was hot outside, too hot for her liking, and even his clothes were slightly stained with sweat. 
She looked up from the couch, still wrapped up in a blanket despite the high temperatures, a book resting on her thighs. He met her eyes with a smile. 
“I noticed your leftovers are still in the fridge. Could smell them,” he clarified. “I was just wondering whether that was on purpose or not.”
Worrying fit it better, she thought to herself. He always worried too much. 
She closed her book. “I might’ve forgotten,” she said as if it was the most natural thing in the world. 
His eyebrows furrowed. “You forgot?” There was a hint of amusement in his voice, but it never reached his eyes. 
“Yeah. I probably got too caught up reading or something. It’s no big deal. I’ll eat later. Or drink another latte.”
He hummed. “You know, iced coffee is not considered a healthy diet. Your body needs fuel.”
“Jesus Christ, Matt,” she raised her voice, “I’m okay!”
“You don’t look okay,” he stated as a matter of fact. 
“And how would you know?”
“I just do.”
He approached, his muscles straining against his shirt. It wasn’t fair, how good he looked. How well he carried himself. And he still had the audacity to look at her and tell her she had much more going for herself than just her humor. That she was beautiful. Pretty enough. 
“Hey,” Matt lowered himself on the couch beside her, “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, huh?”
“I forgot to eat, I told you,” she said.
“I don’t believe you.”
“But it’s the truth.”
“Not if you did it on purpose.”
The book landed on the coffee table and she got up, pacing the small space of their shared apartment in the heart of Hell’s Kitchen. He could hear her heartbeat pounding against her ribcage, the pent-up tears, and the tension, and he wanted nothing more than to reach out. But he waited. He gave her the space she needed to collect her thoughts.
“I forgot,” she repeated. “At first. And then I just happened to pass by a mirror and…and I looked at myself. I mean, really looked at myself.”
“Oh–” He sighed. “Baby…”
“I’m smaller when my stomach is empty, you know. And I thought it wouldn’t hurt me to, uh…cut back a little?”
He was about to respond, but she cut him off. “I don’t mean that I’m starving myself. I just…I forgot to eat, and then, when I remembered, I remembered what I saw and I was just…I’m not hungry anymore. I…I don’t think it’s a big deal. I’m not doing it on purpose, I’m just…”
She stopped pacing. She met his unfocused hazel eyes that held so much pain when he looked at her. He reached out, not saying a word, and she extended her shaky fingers toward the lifeline he was throwing. 
“Oh, God,” she whispered. She realized then why he looked so hurt. “It’s getting bad again, isn’t it?”
The question hung in the room as he pulled her toward himself. 
She didn’t protest when he pulled her back onto the couch, his arms engulfing her and pulling her back against his sturdy chest.
“What makes you think that you need to hurt yourself to fit some unrealistic beauty standard?” he asked softly, his voice merely a breath tickling her ear. 
She whimpered, not wanting to answer. 
“What makes you think that not being healthy is the solution to the way you see yourself? Wouldn’t that just make it worse?”
“I just…” She took a deep breath. “I just… I just want to be enough.”
“But you are enough,” he answered in a heartbeat, placing his hand on her neck and turning her face to him. He missed her face with his gaze, but she could still feel him in every fiber of her being as he sat there and felt her pulse, and she matched her breathing to his. 
A tear rolled down her cheek. “You don’t understand what it’s like,” she whispered back. “You don’t understand what it’s like to be only seen as the comedic relief in every relationship you have ever been in while your friends pulled the guys you wanted. Because they never wanted you, and they never saw competition in you either because you were just never the center of anyone’s attention.”
He was silent for a moment. The taste of her tears reached his tongue, and he visibly recoiled at the pain she held inside of her. Matt pulled her closer, holding her a little tighter. She melted. 
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of leaving her to deal with her thoughts, he placed his lips against her ear again. “You’re the center of my attention,” he said. “Of my world. My universe. And I couldn’t care less about the way you look.”
“That’s because you’re blind,” she shot back, a sob rippling through her body. 
He shook his head. “No. Those who reduce you to your looks are blind, and they don’t even deserve you in the first place. What matters most is this–” his large hand found its way onto the left side of her chest, above her heart. “What’s in here is what makes you beautiful, not what covers the outside.”
“But that’s not enough, is it?”
“To me, it is.”
“Not to me, Matthew. Like I said, you don’t get it.”
She struggled against his grip, but he wouldn’t let her go. “Then let me rephrase it,” he tried again, pressing his hand further against her chest. “I care more about who you are inside because I love you. But I don’t need sight to appreciate your physical beauty along with the sound of your heartbeat. Your breathing. Your touch. You know why?”
She shook her head. “Enlighten me.”
“Because I can feel you, sweetheart, and you are the most breathtaking human being I have ever had the pleasure of laying my hands on.”
If words were enough to make a person pass out, this would surely have been her breaking point. 
“You mean that?” She turned around, her tears now glistening with a taste of hope. 
He brushed them away with his thumb and nodded. “Every last word.”
Her eyes fluttered closed at the ghost of his touch. “I don’t like my body,” the admission came quietly.
In response, Matt nodded. “I know, but you have nothing to be ashamed of. That body deserves to be loved. You deserve to be loved.”
“I feel like…like I don’t deserve you. I don’t want you to leave me for…for Karen.”
The mention of her name caused him to frown. “Karen?” he asked. She nodded. He sighed, forcing her head to his chest, forcing her to listen to his heartbeat the same way he always did to her. “Don’t even think like that,” he told her. “I would never leave you for someone else. For no one, for nothing. I need you to stop assuming that, sweetheart. It’s not true.”
“It feels true,” she cried. 
His lips brushed the crown of her head. “But it isn’t.”
“But–”
“I love you,” he said, a bit more insistent this time. “Only you. I would rather die than never be with you again. And I mean that. Bring me the poison and I’ll prove it to you. I’ll get on my knees and worship the ground you walk on if that’ll make you believe me, but I won’t leave you.”
She clung to him, her nails digging into his shirt. Matt shushed her, his fingers brushing through her hair. The rhythm was soothing. 
She sobbed until she had nothing left to give. She cried because she knew he was right. She knew she was overthinking, but she was powerless to fight it. He was the only one who could open her eyes, and even then, she more often than not slipped away. She hated it. She hated the way her brain was wired, the things she was taught, and the things she continuously and wrongly kept teaching herself. 
Eventually, though, she slacked in his arms. 
“I don’t really like myself right now,” she confessed. “But I don’t know how to stop it.”
Matt chuckled softly, his chest rumbling. He tilted her chin up. “Then let me help you,” he said. 
“How?” she asked. 
He leaned down, his lips brushing against hers in a gentle kiss. “Just let me love you.” 
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Tagging from Matt Murdock Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @itwasthereaminuteago @mattkinsella @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @ravenclaw617 @thychuvaluswife @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten
459 notes · View notes
reiderwriter · 9 months
Note
hi i love your writing
could you do something with reid loving that reader is pregnant. fluff or smut or both
A/N Hello! Thanks for the request! Dad!Spencer is the cutest thing on the planet so this is some unapologetic fluff. And now I have baby fever.
Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, idiots in love. Loosely based on Haley and Hotch's conversation in 1x1. Very fluffy and probably very cheesy and sentimental too... Sorry, you give me girl dad Spencer and suddenly there isn't an impure thought in my head, I just want to lovingly stare at him like I'm the dead wife in an action movie montage.
My requests are open, check out my masterlist for more 🌸
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“Okay, what about Amelia?”
“No, Amelia Dyer, Victorian serial killer. She killed multiple infants over a thirty-year period.”
“Okay, okay, how about, Myra?”
“Myra Hindley, she and her partner Ian Brady abducted and killed five children and teens in the early sixties.”
“God, not that then. There can’t be a psychopathic murderer called Belle, right?”
“You’re making this too easy for me, y’know. Belle Gunness, Hell’s Belle, she’s one of the most prolific female serial killers of all time, even 100 years after her supposed death. It’s fascinating, you know, people think that she actually faked her death - when the doctor who performed the postmortem testified, he noted that the cadaver was about five inches shorter and about fifty pounds lighter than Gunness supposedly was….” You raise a single eyebrow at your wonderful husband, and he immediately shuts up.
“I’m rambling aren’t I?” He smiled down at you as you sat curled up as much as you could in your favorite spot on the couch, the cosiest part of your shared apartment. You smiled back up at him as he leaned down for a kiss and you gladly craned your neck up in response, meeting his lips for a sweet moment.
“Hotch was right you know,” you joked when the two of you parted. “All of the best baby names have been taken by serial killers.”
“Yeah, you’d think with the ratio of female to male serial killers, a girl would be easier to name.” He leans down to kiss you again before falling into a crouch next to you, resting his head on your shoulder and placing his hand on your stomach.
“How big did you say our little girl is now?”
“Y/N, you asked me that half an hour ago. I know pregnancy messes with your brain a bit, but if you’re that bad we’re going to have to get you back to Dr Patel and see if you’re doing okay.” He was joking of course, but you showed him your little pout anyway, knowing that he loved seeing the silly expression on your face.
“Humor me, Doctor.” He strokes your stomach and moves away, but not too far away, taking up right next to you on the couch, and pulling your legs over his lap.
“At five months, she’s roughly 10 inches long with a weight of about 0.5-1 pound. But that ‘How Big is My Baby’ book would say that she’s roughly one banana in length.” You giggled up at him and he grabbed your hand and just held it, content to have you in his arms in any way, big or small.
“I can’t believe it’s been five months already,” you giggle as he presses another kiss to your hand.
“I get it. It doesn’t feel quite real yet to me, either. I thought for so long that fatherhood just wasn’t in my future, but you’re the gift that keeps on giving I guess. I don't know what I did to deserve you.” Even if the words weren’t so sweet, with all of the hormones, you would’ve started crying at anything. Or at least that’s what you’re going to tell him when he sees the small tears threatening to drop into enormous loving sobs.
“Spencer Reid, I am not a gift. I am simply the woman with the correct combination of sense and foolish luck that got to marry you.” He’d done this before, and you were used to his small habit of self-deprecating talk, but after a year of marriage and three years of dating before that, you’d managed to work him down to the occasional comment.
“Don’t try to argue about this, I’m definitely the one benefitting the most from the situation right now,” he joked with you, and you could see the genuine adoration shining from behind his eyes. It was a little spark that not many got to see, a glimpse of true happiness in someone usually so reserved.
“Spencer, you’ve given me foot rubs everyday this week, you’ve read more pregnancy and parenting books than every OBGYN and midwife in the area combined, and you’ve somehow attended more of my clinical check-ups than me, and I’m the one whose pregnant.”
“And you’re growing our child inside of you, which is itself more impressive than anything I could ever do with a book and some modern acts of chivalry.”
“Yeah, tell your boss that. I think the only thing keeping Emily from pulling her hair out over your constant absences is that she thinks she’s competing for the title of godmother. She thinks Penelope and JJ are trying to corrupt me with parenting advice and all those baby clothes Pen keeps bringing over.”
“She’s going to be crushed when she remembers we’re not religious, right?”
“Devastated,” the two of you shared a laugh on the couch, and it quickly devolved into a giggle fit after Spencer leaned over and tickled your side. You jolted away from his touch, but he was on you again, attacking your sides with small caresses, and you were gasping for breath between laughs.
“Spence stop- ahh!” Your squeals stopped as you cried out in shock. It was small but you felt something tap against your stomach. Spencer stopped immediately upon seeing your expression change, and a serious look settled on him as he assessed you for any damage.
“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Are you in pain anywhere, is the baby okay?” He shot out the questions rapidly, one after the other, barely leaving space to catch his own breath from the laughter of earlier.
It happened again and you put a hand to your stomach, finally realising what’s going on.
“I think I just felt her kick. Spencer, I think I just felt the baby kick.” You couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across your face, as much as you couldn’t help the tear that dropped from your eye as your hand rested against your belly again, scared to move for fear that the baby wouldn’t communicate with you again.
“What? Now? Can I- Can I try and feel it, too?” His hands hesitated at first but when you enthusiastically nodded and used your other hand to put him close to yours, you could feel his eagerness to feel the small kicks of your daughter as well.
Almost as if she was waiting for him, as soon as his hand was in the right position, your little girl kicked again, almost as if screaming “I’m here mommy and daddy,” for the two of you to hear.
“I think she’s trying to tell us not to have fun without her,” Reid whispered in your ear, kissing your tear streaked cheek, and using his free hand to rub them away from the other side of your face.
“I am so thankful everyday for this gift you have given me. And for the record, the gift isn’t the baby. The gift is the overwhelming happiness you bring to my life, and the beauty you make me see in this world. The fact that you’re going to be the mother of my child gives me the confidence to get up and go to work every morning because I know that there is joy and there is kindness and there are beautiful people in this world, and you are one, and she will be, too.”
His attempts to dry your tears are now completely vanquished as you let your emotions run wild, but you almost laugh when you realise that his eyes are just as glassy as yours, and you both sit there, overwhelmed by the pure, unadulterated joy that a small kick from a child who has yet to be given a name has bought you.
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despondentnuzzy · 5 months
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Wayne has been... interesting over the last few chapters and really this whole book.
Firstly I do think it's strong characterization for him to easily espouse and laud the greatness of Wax and Marasi while writing himself off. Proceeding to basically solve the entire apartment scene and downplay his accomplishments.
Wayne not only has a strong disdain for himself, but like many people in similar headspaces as him, he is not only unable to acknowledge his own positive attributes but is quick to actively downplay himself for the raising of others.
I doubt I am the first to see there's a strong connection between Wayne's power of bring sickly and unhealthy to then be the one taking punishment and intentionally being harmed to draw attention away from friends. It's like the allomantic equivalent of self-deprecating humor, which he is also consistently using, see again, the apartment scene.
Wayne is blinding rich, but lives a poor man's because he thinks he deserves it.
Wayne is constantly joking in his head about drinking because he's constantly thinking about drinking.
Wayne has the ability to slow down time, to create moments where there are none and yet he has defined the entirety of his life by a split second decision made by a parentless kid 25 years ago.
Wayne is so antagonistic towards Steris (she'll change Wax), so loathing of himself because not only can he not let go, he can't accept change in general.
If Wax is a positive side of Ruin, of change, it feels to me like can be Wayne is the toxicity of Preservation.
This is super rambly but I hadn't posted in a while and felt like these brainworms would be enjoyed.
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devildomditzy · 2 years
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With an MC who thinks they’re not good enough for them
Made this as a personal vent/comfort piece for my self
If you start thinking bad thought about yourself, you just gotta think “the brothers would be so hurt if they caught me thinking this way”
Tags/Warnings: Self-Deprecating Thoughts
Lucifer
Takes it very personal
As pride incarnate, he values himself on making his guests feel comfortable
Even if it’s not him causing the thought, he’ll still see it upon himself to try and fix it
You don’t even have to say it, he just knows (okay, maybe you vented to Beel and Beel told Lucifer cause he was worried about you but that’s beside the point)
“MC, I was unaware I was doing you the disservice of not imploring your importance to us. Let me make that up to you.”
You don’t know how he knows, but you don’t question it.
He prepares tea for the both of you, ready to have a full conversation about self reflection.
Every negative comment you make about yourself he’s quick to counter
“You’ve truly become the gem of the Devildom, MC. I cannot be dissuaded from believing the same goes for the human realm. You’re very dear to me.”
Mammon
Oh hell no
He will not stand for it
He had asked you to attend one of his shoots earlier this week but you had never responded to his invitation, changing the subject every time he brought it up
At first he thinks you just don’t want to go, which hurts him. You catch onto this, and not wanting him to think that the real reason comes out
“It’s just… you’re a model. Not to mention you were a literal angel sculpted by the Gods, and you make an even hotter demon. You’re on the cover of every magazine in the Devildom. Wherever we go you get recognized and fawned over. Hell, you’ve even got a fan club here at school. You’re also one of the most powerful demons and leaders of this realm. Why the hell would you wanna be seen with some pathetic, average looking human like me.”
His heart breaks
He blames himself for not catching on quicker
“Oi! I’m not gonna let anyone talk about my human like that, even if you are that human!”
In the middle of his rant about how everything about you is perfect to him, from your gorgeous appearance to your terrible humor, to your radiant personality, he gets an idea.
Its like you can see a lightbulb flash over his head, he gets giddy like a child, taking out his phone and quickly dialing a number
As it rings it rings, he proudly says, “If ya got a problem with me bein’ a model, I guess we’ll have to make you one too!”
His agency is actually thrilled to have a chance to shoot Diavolo’s esteemed human exchange student. It’s like a once in a millennia chance.
And he’s holding your hand proudly through it. Now he can show you off to the whole Devildom.
You were nervous about it all week until you saw the photos printed on every magazine in town
You stood next to Mammon, both in your Rad uniforms posing in front of the school. You breath hitches in your throat when you see just how adoringly he is staring at you in each and every photo
He may be a professional, but no amount of training could have stopped his love for you from shining through his expressions
He rips these pictures out of his copy, hanging them both all over his and your rooms
“Now the whole Devildom knows we’re a match made in heaven! Well….shit…uh…ya know what I meant.”
Levi
All that stuff about you being a normie, you know he was just kidding right!?
You open up to him against your will, as you both engaged in another weird card game he bought off of Akuzon, and were bound by the rules to confess a burden or be stuck in the games limbo forever
How could anyone (let alone you) think that about his Henry? His player two?
“H-hey! You’re not giving yourself enough credit! You’re super cool, MC! Like, boss level status!!!”
By the shine and sincerity in his eyes, you know this boy is telling the truth
When you flash him a smile and let out a gorgeous laugh, let’s just say the boy melts
Scoop him off the floor and into your arms, he’ll appreciate it.
Asmo
You have to realize there is only one thing in this world that Asmo thinks can even come close to comparing to him and it’s you
If he is Adonis, then you are Aphrodite (and vice versa)
When he sees you staring in the mirror for a beat too long and learns it’s NOT because you’re admiring your own beauty
oh honey
you’ve got a big storm comin’
We’re talking a self care whirlwind here
He’s got face creams, he’s got body scrubs, he’s got lotions, he’s got makeup, he’s bringing out the big guns
And he’s doing all the work too. Asmo is making sure you feel pampered and radiant by the end of the night
If self care doesn’t work, then he’s got other ways of convincing you *ahem hem*
Satan
You’re preaching to the choir hun
He can’t help himself, he compares his every move with Lucifer’s, worrying he’s not as good as him; worrying he’ll never best him
He knows how much that feeling sucks though, and he never ever wants you to even have an inkling of those thoughts
It happens during a study session in the library, he notices just how out of it you are today
“And what exactly is the correct terminology for hypnotizing someone with cursed speech, MC?…….MC?”
When you finally snap out of your haze and meet his eyes, he knows something in wrong
He’ll softly but steadfast question you, even if you don’t tell him the complete truth, he knows exactly what’s wrong, he can see it in your eyes. The same look he sees when he looks in the mirror.
“I’m just not as smart as you, Satan. I’m just a human. Let’s face it, I’m never gonna pass these exams. Diavolo’s gonna send me home because I’m just not good enough. I’m not as great as you all make me out to be.”
At those words, panic sets into his eyes temporarily before they soften
“MC, you’re the most remarkable being I’ve ever met. Quite frankly, I never thought a human could survive down here- well, there’s Solomon, but I wouldn’t quantify him as human. You’re certainly more clever than you think. Honestly, you’re not as great as we all think. You’re even better than that.
After his little pep talk, he’ll take you back to his room for a little study break. He’ll make you tea, read to you, nap with you, whatever makes you feel better.
You enchant him <3
Beel
This has Beel utterly baffled because the poor boy cannot wrap his head around why you or anyone else would ever have a negative thought about you
He may not speak it all the time because he just assumes you know but you are his everything
If even an inkling of a negative thought comes out of your mouth, Beel will stare at you straight faced for a beat before completely enveloping you into his strong arms
He’s not the best with words (usually, he leaves the poetics for his twin) but he will really make an attempt to chase these doubtful emotions from your mind
“MC, I don’t know what made you feel this way but I promise it’s far from the truth. Now, how can I help you feel better?”
Belphie
omg bestie him too, small world!!!
I mean, how could he be enough for you? He tried to kill you!!!
Mutual and constant assurance common between the two of you
And ever since the events of that day, a giant question has been gnawing at the back of your mind. You can’t help but let it slip one day
“Belphie, are you sure you love ME? That i’m not just a replacement in your mind for Lilith? You hated me until you found out I was her descendant…I-I mean, how could you change your mind that fast?”
He’s stunned to say the least, but shakes his head and softly smiles at you before stating
“Yes, I did hold a grudge against humans, but not particularly you. I would have attacked any human who found their way in front of me back then. Lilith is my sister, of course I love and miss her. But you MC? You are the light of my life. I could only see red until I saw through your human nature and finally saw the beautiful soul that is you. I realized I was wrong that day, wrong for a very long time. Now, I don’t want to waste anymore time, I want to spend it all with you.”
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taytjiefourie · 1 year
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Show Don't Tell: Sadness
Hey there, fabulous folks! I'm thrilled to have you back for another exciting day of my 'Show Don't Tell' series! Today, we're delving into the complex emotion of sadness, and I can't wait to explore this topic with you all.
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Let's start by recapping why 'Show Don't Tell' is crucial in creative writing. When we show instead of telling, we allow our readers to truly experience the story firsthand. It's like sharing a delicious slice of pizza with a friend instead of just describing how it tastes. By showing, we can immerse our readers in the story and create a more captivating experience that brings the narrative to life in their minds.
Now, what is sadness?
Sadness is a powerful emotion that we all experience at some point in our lives. It's a feeling of deep sorrow or unhappiness, often caused by loss, disappointment, or failure. Sadness is an essential emotion to portray in storytelling because it allows the reader to connect with the characters on a deeper level. When we see characters experiencing sadness, we can empathize with them and understand their struggles.
Dialogue
Today we're starting off with dialogue! and oh boy, can I tell you a thing or two about dialogue in creative writing! See, dialogue is more than just two characters talking to each other - it's a powerful tool to reveal the inner emotions of your characters without having to explicitly state them. That's right, you can show, not tell, how your character is feeling just by the words they speak and the way they say them.
By carefully crafting dialogue, you can hint at a character's inner thoughts and feelings without spelling them out. You can use word choice, tone, pacing, and other elements to convey emotions that your readers can pick up on, even if your characters don't outright state what they're feeling.
For example, if a character is feeling nervous or anxious, they might speak in short, clipped sentences or stutter when they talk. If they're feeling angry or frustrated, they might use sarcasm or speak in a raised, forceful tone. And if they're feeling sad or defeated, they might use a subdued tone, speak slowly, or trail off mid-sentence.
By showing these emotions through dialogue, you're allowing your readers to draw their own conclusions about how your characters are feeling, rather than simply telling them outright. So, the next time you're writing dialogue, remember that it's not just about what your characters are saying, but how they're saying it.
Here are some ways to show your character's sadness through dialogue:
Speaking softly or in a subdued tone
Using a slow, hesitant delivery
Repetitively apologizing or expressing guilt
Avoiding eye contact
Using self-deprecating humor or dialogue
Asking for reassurance or validation
Using a trembling or shaking voice
Asking rhetorical questions to express confusion or hopelessness
Talking about loss or past regrets
Expressing disappointment or disillusionment
Using passive language, such as "I guess" or "I don't know"
Reflecting on negative feelings, such as shame or worthlessness
Using a quivering or choked voice
Expressing helplessness or powerlessness
Using long pauses or trailing off mid-sentence
Using a resigned or defeated tone
Expressing feelings of isolation or loneliness
Using negative self-talk or dialogue
Avoiding conflict or difficult conversations
Using a monotone or flat voice to convey sadness.
Making self-pitying statements, such as "Why does this always happen to me?"
Using expressions of regret, such as "I wish I had done things differently"
Expressing a lack of motivation or energy, such as "I just can't seem to get out of bed in the morning"
Talking about feeling overwhelmed or burdened by responsibilities
Using hesitant language, such as "I'm not sure if I can handle this"
Talking about feeling lost or directionless in life
Using indirect statements to avoid confronting difficult emotions, such as "It's just been a tough day"
Expressing a sense of hopelessness or despair, such as "What's the point anymore?"
Using figurative language to convey sadness, such as "It feels like a weight on my chest"
Talking about past traumas or painful memories
Using vague or noncommittal language, such as "I don't know how I feel right now"
Talking about feeling disconnected or disengaged from the world around them
Using self-criticism or self-blame, such as "I should have seen this coming"
Expressing a sense of longing or nostalgia for happier times
Using metaphors or similes to convey sadness, such as "I feel like a balloon slowly deflating"
Talking about feeling rejected or unloved by others
Using evasive language to avoid talking about difficult emotions directly
Expressing a sense of frustration or resignation, such as "It is what it is"
Using repetition to emphasize feelings of sadness, such as repeating "I just can't do this" multiple times.
Setting/Scenery
Let's talk about how to use the environment to create and convey sadness in creative writing. One way to use the environment to create a sad mood is through the use of imagery. Imagine a scene where the character is walking down a street on a rainy day. The sound of the rain hitting the pavement, the gray sky overhead, and the slick roads all work together to create a sense of sadness and melancholy. By describing the environment in detail, we can show the reader that the character is feeling down without ever having to tell them directly.
Another way to use the environment to convey sadness is through the use of color. For example, if the scene is set in a funeral home, we might describe the walls as a dull gray or beige, the curtains as heavy and dark, and the lighting as dim and muted. These details can all work together to create a sense of heaviness and sadness.
Using the environment can also be an effective way to create contrast and highlight the sadness in a scene. For instance, describing a bright and sunny day while the character is feeling down can help to emphasize their emotional state.
I've got a fantastic list of ways to use scenery and setting to indirectly show sadness:
Describing the weather as gray, rainy, or gloomy
Using dark or muted colors in the description of the setting
Creating a sense of isolation or emptiness in the environment
Using silence or a lack of sound to create a sense of loneliness or sadness
Describing the setting as abandoned or neglected
Using a stark or barren landscape to create a feeling of despair
Using symbolism in the setting, such as wilted flowers or broken objects, to convey sadness
Setting the scene in a place that is traditionally associated with sadness, such as a graveyard or hospital
Creating a contrast between the beauty of the setting and the sadness of the character's emotions
Describing the setting as chaotic or disorganized to mirror the character's internal turmoil.
There's another way to show a character's sadness - by having them directly interact with the setting:
Tracing their fingers along the rough surface of a wall
Sitting slumped or huddled in a corner
Staring off into the distance with a blank expression
Running their hands through grass or foliage absentmindedly
Letting raindrops fall on their face without moving
Slowly dragging their feet as they walk through the environment
Clenching their fists or gripping objects tightly
Kicking or throwing objects in frustration or anger
Covering their face with their hands or hiding their eyes
Leaning their head against a window or wall with a defeated expression
Tightly hugging a pillow, stuffed animal, or other comfort item
Pulling their knees up to their chest while sitting on the ground
Tearing apart flowers or other delicate objects
Trashing their surroundings in a fit of rage or despair
Moving through the environment slowly or aimlessly with no clear destination in mind.
I've also got some awesome details that'll help you convey sadness through scenery alone:
Weather: A gloomy, overcast day with drizzling rain can create a melancholic atmosphere, reflecting the character's sadness.
Time of Day: A dreary morning or mid-afternoon slump can convey a sense of sadness and lethargy.
Location: Abandoned or empty places, such as an old churchyard or an abandoned building, can create a sense of loneliness and isolation.
Objects: Neglected, dusty, or unused objects can symbolize the character's neglect or emotional emptiness.
Colors: Dull, muted colors like gray, brown, or beige can create a sense of emptiness and sadness.
Noises: Soft, somber sounds like gentle rain or the sound of distant waves crashing can create a sense of tranquility and melancholy.
Crowds: A crowded, bustling place like a shopping mall or a subway station can highlight the character's sense of detachment and loneliness.
Architecture: Decaying, crumbling buildings or abandoned factories can symbolize the character's emotional decay and emptiness.
Nature: A desolate or barren landscape, such as a desert or a frozen tundra, can evoke a sense of desolation and despair.
Animals: Sad or pitiful animals, like a stray dog or a sickly bird, can evoke a sense of vulnerability and sadness.
Action
Now it's time to talk about how actions can convey a character's sadness in a fictional story. Instead of saying, "He was sad," show us his actions, and we'll figure it out on our own. It's like when your best friend tells you she's fine, but you can tell from the slump of her shoulders and the frown on her face that she's definitely not fine.
For example, let's say your character just lost a loved one. Instead of telling the reader outright that the character is sad, show it through their actions. Maybe they're:
Staring blankly at a picture of the person they lost.
Lying in bed all day, refusing to get up or talk to anyone.
Going through the motions of daily life but without any joy or enthusiasm.
Avoiding anything that reminds them of the person they lost.
Crying uncontrollably at unexpected moments.
Losing their appetite or neglecting personal hygiene.
Snapping at loved ones who try to comfort them.
See how much more powerful and engaging that is than simply stating, "He was sad"? It allows the reader to empathize with the character and experience their sadness alongside them.
Here are a few other examples:
Slumping or drooping posture
Avoiding eye contact or looking down
Crying or tearing up
Frowning or looking solemn
Loss of appetite or overeating
Inability to sleep or sleeping too much
Lack of interest in activities they normally enjoy
Neglecting personal hygiene or appearance
Withdrawing from social situations
Clenching fists or tensing muscles
Moving slowly or sluggishly
Hesitating or procrastinating
Avoiding conversations or communication
Self-harm or destructive behavior
Engaging in risky behavior
Substance abuse or excessive drinking
A lack of energy or motivation
Losing track of time or being forgetful
Becoming easily frustrated or irritable
Exhibiting a lack of enthusiasm or passion for life
Remember that if a character is feeling sad and depressed, they might stop taking care of themselves, neglect their hygiene, and lose interest in their hobbies. They may also isolate themselves from others, withdrawing from social situations and avoiding conversations.
Body Language
Body language is a huge part of showing emotions in creative writing, and sadness is no exception! The way a character holds themselves, their posture, and their movements, can all tell the reader a lot about how they're feeling.
For example, imagine a character who has just received some terrible news. They might slump their shoulders, avoid eye contact, and wring their hands. These actions convey their feelings of defeat, sadness, and worry without the writer having to tell the reader directly.
Body language can also be used to create tension and conflict between characters. If one character is sad and another is trying to comfort them, the way they position themselves in relation to each other, the way they touch each other or don't touch each other, can all convey different emotions and create a deeper sense of meaning in the scene.
Here! I'll provide you with a short list of ways body language can convey sadness:
Drooping or slumping shoulders
Hunching over or curling up into a ball
Clasping or wringing hands
Biting or licking lips
Rubbing or covering eyes
Frowning or furrowing eyebrows
Tilting the head downward
Avoiding eye contact or looking down
Crossing arms or legs
Gazing into the distance or staring off into space
Sighing heavily or audibly
Slow or shuffling movements
Trembling or shaking
Fidgeting or restlessness
Wrinkling or rubbing the forehead
Holding oneself or self-soothing gestures
Stiff or tense posture
Lack of facial expression or a neutral expression
Slow or lack of movement
Deep, heavy breathing
A weak or feeble voice
Avoiding physical touch or contact
Shrinking or pulling away from others
Failing to respond or acknowledge others
Refraining from smiling or laughing
Breaking eye contact quickly
Pacing or fidgeting
Yawning excessively
Looking tired or fatigued
Crying or tearing up
Point of view
Let me tell you about the power of using point of view in creative writing to show a character's sadness indirectly. Point of view is all about the perspective from which the story is told, and it allows us to see the world through our character's eyes. By exploring our character's inner thoughts, inner dialogue, and emotional state, we can beautifully convey their feelings of sadness.
A character's sadness can be conveyed through things like:
Negative self-talk, such as self-doubt or self-criticism
Focusing on negative aspects of the environment or situation
Recalling past negative experiences or memories
Expressing a lack of motivation or interest in their surroundings
Having a pessimistic or cynical outlook on the future
Feeling disconnected or detached from others
Feeling overwhelmed or burdened by their emotions
Seeing the world in black and white, without much color or vibrancy
Struggling to find joy or pleasure in activities they used to enjoy
Having difficulty concentrating or focusing on tasks
Feeling hopeless or helpless about their situation
Expressing a desire to isolate or withdraw from others
Being irritable or easily agitated with others
Struggling to communicate their feelings to others
Feeling like they are a burden to others
Expressing a sense of numbness or emptiness
Feeling like they are trapped or stuck in their situation
Being indecisive or hesitant in their actions or choices
Feeling like they don't belong or fit in with their surroundings
Expressing feelings of guilt or shame
Having difficulty sleeping or eating properly
Feeling like they are constantly on edge or anxious
Seeing themselves as an outsider or outcast
Struggling to make meaningful connections with others
Feeling like they are invisible or overlooked by others
Expressing a sense of longing or yearning for something they can't have
Feeling like they are drowning in their emotions
Struggling to find purpose or meaning in their life
Feeling like they are stuck in a rut or a cycle of negativity
Expressing a sense of regret or remorse for past actions or choices.
Sensory Detail
Sensory details can take your writing to the next level! By incorporating sensory details into your writing, you can transport your readers into the world you've created and make them feel like they're a part of the story. Whether you want to evoke sadness, joy, or fear, sensory details are an essential tool for creating an emotional response in your readers.
Specifically, when it comes to showing a character's sadness, sensory details can be particularly effective. By describing their environment using muted colors and soft sounds, for example, you can create a somber atmosphere that resonates with the character's emotions. Additionally, describing physical sensations like a heavy chest or lump in the throat can help the reader understand just how deeply the character is feeling their sadness.
Remember, sensory detail isn't limited to external sensations - sensory detail can also include how the inner turmoil of the character interacts with the outside world, such as associating certain smells with sad memories.
I'll give you guys a few techniques for using sensory detail to show sadness:
Describing the weight of a character's heart or chest
Mentioning the salty taste of tears on the character's lips
Describing the sound of the character's labored breathing or sobs
Noticing the way the character's eyes water or become red
Describing the feel of tears streaming down the character's face
Mentioning the chill or shivers that accompany sadness
Describing the dull ache or pain in the character's body
Noticing the way the character's voice cracks or shakes
Describing the character's inability to eat or taste food
Mentioning the heaviness or stiffness in the character's limbs
Describing the character's difficulty in sleeping or restlessness
Noticing the way the character's hands tremble or shake
Describing the character's detachment or numbness
Mentioning the lack of appetite or desire to eat
Describing the character's exhaustion or fatigue
Noticing the way the character's posture slumps or droops
Describing the character's sensitivity to light or sound
Mentioning the character's lack of interest or enthusiasm
Describing the character's reluctance to leave their bed or room
Noticing the way the character's movements become slower or more deliberate
Describing the way the character's world becomes smaller or more constricted
Mentioning the character's lack of motivation or energy
Describing the way the character's skin becomes pale or sallow
Noticing the character's tendency to withdraw from others or isolate themselves
Describing the character's lack of focus or concentration
Mentioning the character's difficulty in making decisions or taking action
Describing the character's hypersensitivity to smells or tastes
Noticing the character's tendency to cry easily or frequently
Describing the way the character's thoughts become more negative or self-critical
Mentioning the character's lack of interest or pleasure in their usual activities.
Metaphors and Analogies
Metaphors and analogies in creative writing! These tools are like superpowers that allow us to express complex emotions in fun and unique ways. When we use them effectively, we can paint a picture in our reader's mind, making them feel and understand the emotions we're expressing. It's like adding a sprinkle of magic to our writing!
Here's how to use metaphors and analogies to show sadness in our writing! It's like playing a game of compare and contrast, where we compare the emotion to something that's relatable and tangible. For instance, we can describe sadness as a heavy weight on the character's chest, or a dark cloud that hangs over their head. By using these comparisons, we can help our readers to visualize the emotion in a more concrete way, making it easier for them to connect with the character and empathize with their experience.
Let's keep the creative juices flowing and talk about another way to use metaphors and analogies to show sadness in our writing! Instead of just describing the emotion itself, we can also use them to describe the character's actions or behavior. It's like giving our readers a visual representation of how the character is struggling with sadness. For example, we can compare a character who's dealing with sadness to a ship lost in a stormy sea, or a bird with a broken wing. These comparisons not only help the reader to understand the character's emotional state, but also create a sense of sympathy and compassion for their struggle.
Here are some examples for you to look at:
"Her heart was a shattered vase, the pieces impossible to put back together."
"He was a lone tree in the midst of a barren desert, with no hope of ever finding water."
"She felt as if a heavy weight was crushing her chest, suffocating her with grief."
"The sadness she felt was an ocean, deep and vast, with waves crashing over her constantly."
"His sadness was a thick fog, enveloping him in a cloud of melancholy."
"She felt like a bird with broken wings, unable to fly and trapped on the ground."
"His sadness was a never-ending tunnel, with no light at the end and no way out."
"The emptiness inside her was a black hole, devouring everything in its path."
"He was a ship lost at sea, with no sense of direction and no hope of rescue."
"Her sadness was a wildfire, spreading quickly and consuming everything in its path."
It's time to wrap up this post, but don't fret, I'll be back with more writing tips and tricks soon! There are plenty of these post on my tumblr so check them out too! or you can find a more organized version of them all here!
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cupid-styles · 2 months
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I feel ymls Harry would be so jealous if Clem said “mom” as her first word bc we all know Freon down Clem is a daddy’s girl!
no bc you're SO right for this!!!!
. . .
"Da-da," Harry's lips curl around the word for what feels like the thousandth time that afternoon as he looks down at the sleepy baby in his lap. "Clem, say da-da."
Instead of saying anything, Clementine's eyes begin to flutter shut. He sighs dejectedly and grabs the cloth next to him to wipe some of the milk away from the corner of her mouth.
"Don't be jealous that she said mama first, H."
He grumbles as he gently thumbs down the slope of Clementine's soft nose. In return to his lack of response, Y/N snickers from her chair on the other side of the living room. She closes her book and puts her chin in her hand.
"I didn't even get to hear it," he mutters quietly with a pout on his face. "I was too busy getting you those cookies from the grocery store."
Y/N hums to herself as she pulls another cookie from the box, as if his comment just reminded her of his earlier errand. She chews, swallows, and shrugs her shoulders.
"She's gonna be obsessed with you for her entire life, Harry. We all know you're gonna be the nice, pushover parent. Can't you let me have this one thing? Before she's too old to know how grumpy her mom is?"
She notices the edges of his lips turn upward at her self-deprecating humor.
"She'll love both of us just the same." he mumbles. The sentiment makes Y/N's stomach flutter.
"Mm, easy for you to say. Wait until you get her name tattooed on you, then I'll never stand a chance."
Harry laughs softly, "I'll get your name, too. That way you both know how loved you are."
His response sends a nervous zip through her body, but she quickly replaces the surprised expression with a stoic one before shaking her head.
"Silly," she murmurs, cracking her book back open, "You're silly."
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