#I'm done now. just trying to relieve some of the pressure i am feeling in my whole entire body. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tulipsforvin · 1 month

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OMGGGGGGG

I just remeber reading youre post about reader dying. The part with Louis hit HARD. While I can definitely see him and me as reader in that scenario, (dw I am fine– almost.LOL) I thought Albert would fit in this one soooo much better. (My opinion.... also Pre timeskip) OFCOURSE Louis fits in there GREATLY. AND I LOVE IT SOSOSOSOSO MUCH LIKE I LITERALLY CRIED BECAUSE IT WAS SO SAD AND BEAUTIFUL <333 ACTUALLY THANK YOU SOSOSO MUCH FOR SHOWING US ALL OF IT YOURE WRITING IS JUST– mhwa! <3 (⁠๑⁠♡⁠⌓⁠♡⁠๑⁠) (⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥ AND I KNOW YOU HEAR THIS A LOT RECENTLY BUT HONESTLY??? YOU DESERVE TO BECAUSE..... YOU..JUST!?!?! SO GOOD WRITING ???? Anyways– eghm... So what I was going to explain right now was how, you mentioned in one of youre post, Albert as a Boyfriend and that he wouldnt like someone who cant keep Hygiene. So I thought that, imagen, reader falling into depression (for whatever reason) and stopped keeping themself clean because of the lack of energy. They stopped showering, brushing theyre teeth etc.. and he started to feel grossed out by them. Not by choice ofcourse. He really doesnt want to feel that way, he loves them with his whole heart and soul. But he cant stand this anymore. He dont want to kiss them or sleep next to them in bed. So he tries to do the right thing and breaks up. He explains to them how he still loves them but cant stay with them any longer if they can't even brush their teeth . He doesnt want to hurt them much more and hopes that they can find help and get better. only to see them 2 days later lying in a cuddle of their own blood. He tries to crush to them, regretting every decision he has made earlier– just like Louis in that one hc. He doesnt want them to die. To think that theyre gross, annoying, stupid, useless, anything but beautiful and extremely Important. But hes too late. Youre already dead. Or so he thought. Just for the doctor to tell him that they had immense luck and that its almost a mirracle how you survived. He's relieved and his knees give way beneath him. This burden and the pressure on his shoulders falls away, almost in tears he asks the worried doctor kneeling next to him if he can see you. You're awake but you try to turn around when you see his face only to be follow by a huge pain in youre body as you tried. He obviosly doesnt care and rushes to youre side. He feels really guilty and apolegises to you. You dont care, you tell him to go away and add ' You left because you felt uncomfortable by the lack of my hygien. That was okay. But dont come back to me and say you care when that was the reason you first left me.' He accepts this and goes home at first. But eventully comes back with flowers while youre asleep. He wants to show you he really did care and peels you some appels. When he held you in his arms, unconscious and bleeing like a dove shot by hunters, he realised how much he could have done to help you. He could have talked, and or showered with you. But instead he just choose to not face it. He won't make this mistake again. Even If you will hate HIM for the Rest of youre life. He will show how much he loves you till get sick of it and just forgive him. He doesnt ever wanna let go of youre Hand anymore. He has experinced the feeling of youre abscence once, and he surely would never want to expierince this another time. Because he's confident that he wouldnt live that over.

Hahaha sorry that was loooong. I would like to hear youre opinion. I Hope you Liked it!! ♥️♥️

WAT THE HELL THIS IS SUCH A GOOD IDEA???

PLEASE DON'T EVEN FEEL REMOTELY WEIRD, BAD OR EMBARRASED ABOUT HOW LONG THIS IS BECAUSE THIS IS SO GOOD I'M GENUINELY SPEECHLESS. HOW IS THIS NOT A FIC YET?? THE POTENTIAL AND THE ANGST IT HAS WOWOOAOA

I can't even stop complimenting you honestly i absolutely love and am utterly and sincerely stunned at how you're able to incorporate two small things i said into creating this masterpiece of an idea??

believe me when i say i waited five minutes contemplating whether to even post this because i didn't want anyone to steal your idea. i'm being so for real right now if you don't want to turn this beautiful plot of an idea into writing yourself for some reason because if it was me i'd trademark this and stamp anything that states my ownership of a plot so delicious (since again, this is so good and has sm potential) then please, please let me at least attempt and and try giving this amazing, almost an artwork plot life someday. not sure if i would even do it justice bro damn but like you'll totally get the credits WOWOAOA. i can't even stop with the compliments because i'm genuinely baffled at how absolutely golden this idea is. god damn. LIKE OKAY SHAKESPEARE.

ANYWAY ARGH LMAOAOA don't mind me fanning over you and this.. i don't even have words left to describe just how good this plot/idea is but YEAH but this is genuinely so good. i'm somehow going back to babbling about how wonderful this is and i don't think I'll be able to stop if I don't end this here because holy shit the potential it carries is astounding and me personally, i love angst so this is.. FUCKKC I CAN'T STOP SAYING HOW GOOD THIS IS. LET ME END THIS HERE FOR REAL NOW — THANK YOU FOR YOUR WORDS + THE NEVERENDING SUPPORT LOL IM GRATEFUL YOU LIKE MY WRITING <33 I HOOE UOU HAVE THE BESY DAY OF UOUR LIFE

#the way mt jaw dropped #when i firsr received this #and then i went reading on #and on #and then my jaw dropped even further to the ground #until it reached rhe depths of hell #because GOD. DAMN.#hoe good can an idea be??#i vant even type cuz im genuinely shcoked #like hello #please be my muse #PELASE PLEASE PELASE OELASE #vinyaps #anons ask vin ‧₊˚✩彡

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n7punk · 9 months

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i know i've kind of talked around this stuff for... fuck, three years now? but idk, now it's getting closer to "resolving," i kind of want to talk about it. journal, get it off my chest, idk

i haven't really been specific about my health issues much because 1) privacy and 2) very complicated feelings on it, but feelings are becoming less complicated, so... yeah. privacy is still really important to me, but i have too many feelings about this to keep feeling like i'm silencing myself for some hypothetical... i dont even know what

tbf, if it had turned out to be anything else, i probably wouldn't be comfortable even making a vent post about it now. but it turned out to be. annoyingly simple. i've also got other stuff, physical disabilities and such i've been more candid about but still want to keep the specifics of private, but this is... very different.

long story short, during the pandemic i started experiencing Symptoms. i'm honestly not sure if/how much i have talked about what was wrong with me, because i don't remember... entire years, much at all. i know ive described it as my brain being on fire, but it's more like it instantly melted down and i was left with the aftermath for hours/days/weeks at a time. it really fucked with me emotionally to be fighting through that on top of the direct effects of the Symptoms. and, well, the problem was my brain (probably) so that tracks.

it turns out it was migraines. migraines that shared many symptoms with seizures, brain tumors, or pressure on the brain stem, but yeah. "just" "migraines." and, actually, we don't know that! but migraine medication is helping, so it's probably that and this is where i am, finally waking up these last few months (this summer of updates could Not have happened if it weren't for my new medication) and feeling both very frustrated with what i lost and relieved to not always have to deal with suddenly being unable to understand a sentence anymore.

it's not like. fixed. my brain is still going to burn sometimes. It seems to come in waves, like two bad weeks and then two good ones. we're not done trying to treat it now we know some stuff it's responsive to, but its not like it used to be, wildfires raging all day and my head wavering on my shoulders as i struggled just to read messages from my friends. i literally had an emote i would use to communicate when i couldn't communicate that everybody who knows me understands. i haven't even twitched since starting my new meds! well, like, uncontrollably. trust me, that's progress. i literally had to get a bigger bed so i could be safe in the middle of it when the fits were especially bad and i got twitchy.

uh so that was more story than i planned. really i just wanted to finally talk about what i've been experiencing (at least for the first time that i remember). honestly writing was the only thing that kept me sane while i was trapped inside my own malfunctioning brain. i don't know why it was one of the easiest things for me, when i couldn't even understand a full two sentences being said to me i could still - usually - write (again: i literally couldn't talk for like three of the days when i was writing and updating catcher daily), but i'm so grateful for it. and everybody who told me my stories helped you, or that you looked forward to them, or even just that you enjoyed them: you helped me right back, because you told me there was one thing i could still do, from a capability standpoint to having the ability to make any impact on the world when i was trapped at home. so thank you.

okay i'm done now. just. had to get that out

#i dont like being negative and im very much one of those bare your own shit people because i dont want to bother anyone #and have been living on a razor edge where i certainly couldnt help anyone else with their weight #but like. we're getting towards the victory stage (as close to one as these kinds of things have) so im ready to finally say how bad it was #ive wanted to talk about it a lot but something was always stopping me #(partly some vague but panicked ''what if'' related to sharing too much)#im tired of being held back and choosing to hold back. i want to move on. as much as my body will let me #mylife

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 10 months

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I am taking a break from working on my WIP by writing some fanfiction of Steve getting adopted by the Sinclairs because we need more. Should I write more?

Family By Heart

As soon as Steve stepped out of the gym, he had parted ways with Brenda, who had found a ride home with someone else. He didn't blame her. Of course, it didn't work out. He met up with Sue and Charles outside the gym.

"Hey, son, where's Brenda?" Charles asked as they waited for Lucas.

"Oh, it didn't work out," Steve said shrugging his shoulders.

"Oh, don't worry too much about it, baby," Sue said, rubbing his shoulders. "You're going to find someone one day who sees you and loves you. I'm sure of it."

"You're my heart-mom. You have to be biased," Steve said.

"Doesn't mean it's not true," Sue said. "You're a wonderful young man, and any person would be lucky to have you."

"Thanks, mom," Steve said softly.

It still took him some getting used to. Despite the fact that he was older and he had once been an asshole, the Sinclairs wanted him as their son as soon as they had met him. They still wanted him around when he confessed to them about being bisexual. He knew at any moment that his birth parents could kick him out, but for now, it was a safe place for the kids to go to when they needed an escape, and if he had to, then he had a place to go to with his true parents, his true family. Lucas came rushing out of the gym, a beaming smile on his face as he rushed towards them. He hugged his parents first and then Steve.

"I'm so proud of you, baby," Sue said.

"Really?" Lucas asked.

"Of course, I'm proud of anything that you do that makes you that happy," Sue said.

"You did so good, son. You seemed to really enjoy yourself out there," Charles said.

"I did, loved it," Lucas said. "It was exhilarating."

"Man! That was awesome. That's what the team needed. They needed Lucas Sinclair," Steve said, beaming proudly.

"I couldn't have done it without your help, Steve," Lucas said.

"Yeah, you could have," Steve said.

"Okay, I wouldn't have wanted to do it without your help," Lucas said.

Steve laughed and hugged his little brother again. Lucas pulled back when he saw Hellfire spilling out with Erica. He glanced sadly at them. Steve placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, they'll pull their head out of their asses eventually. They should have been here to support you. They could have postponed, you couldn't. Being interested in basketball is just as important as you being interested in D&D. You did nothing wrong. It's okay that you like both games," Steve said softly. "You want me to talk to them? Give them a stern talking to?"

"No, but thanks, Steve," he said softly.

"Charles, you need to talk to your daughter," Sue said, scoffing. "Unbelievable that she missed her brother's moment to take his spot in his other favorite game."

Charles laughed and she gave him a look.

"Oh, you're serious. You want me to talk to her, but honey, you're a lot scarier than I am," Charles said.

"Do you like sleeping on the couch?" Sue asked.

"I actually do. The back of the couch supports my . . . but not as much as I love sleeping next to you," Charles said. "I'll talk to her. Gladly."

"Hey, mom, dad? The guys wanted to take me out to celebrate. Would it be okay if I went?" Lucas asked.

Sue and Charles shared a look with Steve. They all talked about this with Steve when Lucas started playing. He had relieved their fears when he pointed out that Lucas was smart and that Lucas had something that Steve never had. . .supportive parents.

"I trust you to be smart and safe," Sue said softly, trying not to look too worried.

"You have a good head on your shoulders, Luke," Charles said. "I know you'll be careful."

"Look, if they try to get you to do anything that you don't want you to or you feel uncomfortable, you can say no. Don't pressure yourself into saying yes, and if you feel like they're pressuring you, then leave," Steve said.

"Yes, make sure you call us or your brother if you need us to come get you," Sue said.

"So, I can go?" Lucas asked and she nodded.

He grinned and ran up to catch up with Jason. Steve watched for a moment, hoping that Lucas would make better decisions than he did. He felt eyes on him, and he looked over to find Eddie Munson looking his way. Steve scrunched up his eyebrows. For a moment, he thought he could have sworn he had seen a look of guilt in Eddie's eyes, but it was gone, and he was scoffing at Steve in disbelief before walking away. Steve put his hands on his hips. Yeah, the next time he saw Eddie, he was definitely going to give him hell for hurting Lucas's feelings.

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve is adopted by the sinclairs #sue and charles sinclair #lucas sinclair #erica sinclair #steddie #stranger things s4 #steddie fanfiction #fanfiction #steve harrington deserves better #big brother steve harrington #jock siblings #lucas sinclair deserves better too

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hunterbunter3000 · 1 year

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I am a price whore, sweetheart seeing price hunch over his desk, walked up to him, standing beside him and messaging his shoulder and do that hand gestures where she slide one of her hands down his chest, aight imma dipp😗✌️

ARRHHGHHHH

Mind turning into mush and for what

BRUH after all that has happened, I feel like Sweetheart is getting bold 💀 cause honestly, she's trying to figure out if they all do like her (as Laswell said)

So she goes to Price's office, and he's so busy he just grunts permission to enter, not really seeing it's Sweetheart. She enters with his nightly hour tea that she's been giving him today cause he's so busy. She looks so sad that he's working himself to the bone (and to the shape of a shrimp 🍤) so she sighs and walks over to him, putting his tea and cookies down on his desk. She comes on his side and caresses his tense shoulder.

Sweetheart, in a low voice: Cap, maybe you should take a break.

Price shivers, her fucking hot ass voice snaps him out of his grind (YOU'RE MESSING IT UP SWEETHEART FUCKIN LEAVE)

Price: Hm. Later.

And then goes back to the grind 💀 she sighs and then has an idea.

Sweetheart: how 'bout I give you a shoulder massage! Maybe that'll relieve some of the tension?

SHIIIII BABY SAY LESSSSS

Price nods, but his mind is going BONKERS-- like omg her hands are gonna touch me, soft calloused hands, her perfume FUCK

So she does the massage, and she's actually getting in there- so much so that Price is grunting AHAHA She kinda slows down cause wtf was that? She asks if he's okay and mumbles yes, continue- so she does

She kinda gets lost in it- I mean who WOULDN'T-- his broad ass shoulders, the built muscle, THE LOW GRUNTS AUGHHH her mind just becomes hazy and her hands start to travel. Traveling to his neck, making goosebumps form along the way, slowly and gently moving down to his big chest (HNNGGGGG IM FOAMING AT THE MOUTH)

Price's breath hitches cause um??? She's never done this before??? She leans into him, her chest resting on his back and her breath fanning on his neck. The small scratches from her nails is making him lose his mind. It's already lost from her fondling him, hands moving to his neck, shoulders and chest. Almost like she's studying him, how he feels, what makes him hot. Papers long forgotten, Price's fingers are GRIPPING the edge of his desk. Fuucckkkk it's been forever since he's been felt up like this.

Sweetheart, in his ear: Relax.... you're still tense.

BIITCHHHH HOW CAN HE RELAX?? He takes a deep breath, and the sigh. That this man. LETS OUT. UGHHHH rated R. Istg

If you walked in his office now, the scene is so sensual omg- Price is leaning all the way back, completely relaxed, eyes closed with mouth slightly open and eyebrows creased a bit. Sweetheart behind him, tatas pressed up against his back, head fitted between his neck with her eyes hazy and low, and her hands feeling everything. (His shoulders, arms, forearms, his chest, waist and stomach)

Sweetheart:...Are you relaxed now?

Price, lightheaded and pink: Yes...

Sweetheart, smiles: Good.

Huh? Where the hands go? Where the pressure from her chest go? Oh she got up (NOOOOO WHYYYYYY) Price snaps his eyes open and looks at her fleeting figure. Her swaying hips still keeping him light-headed.

She smiles at him before leaving.

Sweetheart: I'm glad I made you feel relaxed! Also, make sure to drink your tea while it's hot. Good night Price.

And with the sound of the click from the door, she's gone. Price can't believe what happened. Maybe he fell asleep on his desk and he had another fantasy about her? (He has had alot of fantasies about her LOLL)

Noooo, he's still up, he pinched himself. Fuck, that legit happend. And the tea is still hot... how? It felt like hours in that state of mind with her. He looked at his clock; 11:10 p.m.

....Are you fucking kidding me. (THAT ONLY LASTED FOR TEN MINUTES???MOTHER FUCK--)

Sweetheart in her room: SCREEEECCHHHHHH WHY DID I DO THAT!?!? OMG HE JUST NEEDED A MASSAGE NOT FOREPLAY OMFG WHAT IS WRONG WITH MEEEEAAAAAA he was so hot tho- NO SHUT UP (and then cries for bout an hour)

#help me #why is this so LONG #WHY IS PRICE MY EVERYTHING #i have a thing for broad men with accents and facial hair #LIKE BADLYYYY #ITS SUCH A PROBLEM LMAO #black reader #black fem reader #cod oc #black!reader #john price #price mw2 #cod price #john price x reader #cod x y/n #141 sweetheart

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kissesforsatoru · 2 years

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dazai and aphrodisiacs make my brain go brrrrrr

𓏲 ˖. pairings. . . dazai x fem! reader

𓏲 ˖. summary. . . dazai giving his darling aphrodisiacs

𓏲 ˖. warnings. . . general yandere themes, aphrodisiacs, non-con, semi-public sex, coercion, drinking.

𓏲 ˖. notes. . . i apologize if this is bad, i only recently started writing smut and i don't think i've quite got the hang of it yet. ahh. i'm also writing this at like 3 am so i'm kind of tired too.

it had been such a long and tiring week at work that all you wanted to do after your shift ended on friday was go home and sleep — that's exactly what you would've done if not for the taunting voice of dazai begging you get drinks with him as you left the ADA. for an adult, you were still quite susceptible to peer pressure, and dazai sure liked to take advantage of that, you noticed.

he practically dragged you to the nearest bar upon hearing your reluctant agreement to go out with him, his grip painful around your wrist as the two of you walked down the streets. and upon arrival, dazai ignored your protests of refusal to drink alcohol and ordered four shots to split between the two of you.

he held the glass cup up to your lips, urging you to take a drink from it while also downing a shot of his own. dazai was usually pretty pushy, but today it made you uncomfortable how eager he was to get you to drink — especially since you made it clear that you didn't want to. but you ignored it, brushing your unease off as annoyance about being here when you just wanted to be cuddled in bed.

"do i really have to?" you frowned, taking the glass from his hand. "dazai—please, i don't wanna wake up hungover tomorrow, you know how much of a lightweight i am." your pleads fell on deaf ears, though, because dazai rolled his eyes while directing the glass up to your lips again. you frowned, but downed the shot anyway.

your face scrunched up and you gagged at the horrible flavor of the drink. you whined again, muttering incoherently about how much you hate drinking. dazai shoved another glass in your face before you could even finish your little rant. again you felt uncomfortable by his persistence, and again you ignored it.

"last one, i promise." he smiled, taking your hand and placing the glass in it. not having the energy to try refusing again, you downed the second glass. somehow, the second one was worse than the first, and it drew an even stronger reaction out of you.

"fuck, i seriously hate this stuff. i don't know how you can drink it with a straight face." you said, waving at the server so that you could ask for some water. you already felt your body tingling and you quickly wanted to wash the alcohol out of your system so that you could go home and finally sleep.

dazai chuckled at your remark but didn't say anything. he sipped on the glass of whatever it was that he ordered while staring at you intently, like he was waiting for something. you didn't know what it was exactly, but something was beginning to really feel off and you didn't like it.

before you were able to question it further, a wave of heat washed over your body and down to your pussy that you now realized was aching. you groaned, crossing your legs and wiggling in your chair as you tried to relieve the feeling of need that you suddenly have.

you heard dazai hum beside you as he placed a hand on your thigh, rubbing your skin softly with his thumb. you had to fight back the urge to moan at the sudden touch.

"is something wrong?" he asked sweetly, but something about the question seemed condescending. you didn't care, only focusing on the way that his hand slid further up your thigh, dangerously close to your increasingly aching cunt. your breath hitched as you anticipated his touch.

"c'mon, let's go to my car. i'll drive you home." he said, retracting his hand from your thigh and placing it on your back instead. your legs shook slightly when you stood up, and you found it hard to keep yourself stable enough to walk. dazai wrapped an arm around your waist and held you closely to his body while he guided you out of the establishment.

when you got to the car, you expected dazai to leave you in the back seat while he got in on the deivers side so he could take you home. but instead he sat down with you, closing the door behind him and pulling you into his lap so that you were straddling his hips.

"my, you're soaked already and it's barely been ten minutes." he smirked. despite understanding that what he said was weird, you were too dazed to really understand the implications.

you felt his hands trail lightly up and down your body, causing you to shiver under his touch. you panted softly, wiggling in his lap and enjoying the sensation of his dick grinding into your pussy ever so slightly as you did so. but soon it wasn't enough, and you were holding onto his shoulders as you grindes yourself roughly into him haphazardly.

"needy, aren't we?" he teased, placing his hands on your hips to hold them still. you whined, weakly tugging on his arms so he'd let go and you could continue pleasuring yourself. "be patient, baby. i'll give you what you want in a second."

he wrapped both of his arms around your waist before flipping you down on the seats of the car. you watched as he pulled out a small silver package from his pocket before taking off his pants, and getting the hint about what's going to happen, you lifted your dress up and pulled off your panties.

"such a good girl." he hummed, positioning himself above you. "want me to fuck you now?" he asked, but he didn't even have to finish talking before you were nodding your head and grabbing his cock to shove into your needy cunt.

you sighed, body relaxing into the pleasure as he pushed himself deep inside of you until his hips met yours. quiet little moans escaped your parted lips as he began thrusting in and out of you, consistently pulling all the way out and then burying his cock right back into you. and when he leaned down to kiss you, you happily reciprocated, opening your mouth so that he could easily slip his tongue in to explore.

"shit, if i'd know the aphrodisiacs chuuya gave me worked this well i would've done this so much sooner." he muttered, nestling his head into your neck to lick and suck little marks.

his words didn't really register at the moment, but in the morning everything from the previous night would make you dread ever being persuaded to go out with dazai again.

#yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere thoughts #yandere fanfiction #yandere bsd #yandere bsd x reader #yandere bungou stray dogs #yandere bungo stray dogs x reader #yandere dazai #yandere dazai x reader #bsd dazai #dazai x reader

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eternally-smitten · 9 months

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Selfshiptember: Napping Together

pairing: Ignacio x Natalie

summary: Ignacio finds a tired and stressed Natalie after she returned home from work

word count: 897

author's note: ignore that I'm a bit late to this cute event 😭 college takes up most of my time nowadays!

Finally.

After a long, tiring, grueling day full of stressors, Natalie was finally home. She was desperately looking forward to being able to relax and calm down, but it felt like everything was still going wrong. While walking up the steps to her apartment, she tripped and hit her knee against one of the steps. Then, while trying to unlock her door, she kept fumbling with the keys and dropped them enough times to make her irritated. And finally, to top it off, her important paperwork slipped out of her hands and scattered all over the floor as soon as she walked inside.

With a heavy sigh, Natalie dropped to her knees, careful not to put pressure on the one she hurt, and picked up the papers. She tried her best to keep them as organized as possible but her efforts were in vain.

"Is that you, mi amor?" Ignacio's soft voice called out from the bedroom before he appeared in the hallway.

"Yeah, it's me," She responded tiredly, still cleaning up the mess she accidentally made.

He walked out to greet her but noticed her dejected demeanor. She didn't have to say anything for him to know that something was up, "Would you like me to help?"

Natalie shook her head, "No, I got it. I'll just…organize them tomorrow, maybe. If I'm feeling up to it."

"Hmm," Ignacio crouched down to assist her anyway, sensing that she needed help and a little comfort right now.

They silently cleaned up together until every last paper was collected and haphazardly placed in a manila folder.

"Thank you," She gave him a weak smile, "I appreciate it a ton."

He nodded, "So, not a great day?"

All she could do was sigh in response.

"That bad, huh?" He frowned a little at seeing her so crestfallen.

"It was just…a lot." She confessed, "Too many things going on at once and all of them are very urgent and so stressful. It's too much for one person and one day."

He pulled her into a hug and softly pressed his lips against her forehead. Natalie just about melted into him and nestled her head against his shoulder. They stayed like that for a while in the middle of her walkway with Ignacio gently swaying the both of them back and forth and they held onto each other.

He pulled away only a little just to cup her face in his hands and rub his thumb against her cheek, "Take tomorrow off."

"What?" She blinked a few times in disbelief, "No, I can't."

"Sure you can. I will too." He smirked, "It's easy, you just call them and say you're sick."

She shook her head, "I have too much to do, Nacho."

"It'll be there for you later, right?" He gestured to their lazy attempt at organizing a pile of papers on the counter, "A day off would be nice to let you get all of that done."

"I'll get new work." Natalie's lips were drawn into a thin line, "I always do."

Ignacio brushed some hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear, "Come on, mi vida, you work so hard. Can't you spend one day with me, hmm?"

"But-"

"Shush," He interrupted her train of thought with a light kiss, "If you take tomorrow off, we can finally do one of those little fall dates you've been gushing about."

Her eyes lit up as soon as he said that, "Really? You mean that?"

He smiled down at her, "Of course I do. I'll drive you wherever you want to go. Just say the word."

"...Fine." She chuckled before yawning.

"That's what I like to hear." Ignacio let go of her and instead grabbed her hand, "But, before we start planning anything, you should rest."

She nodded in agreement, "I am pretty beat."

"Let's get you out of those clothes and get you comfortable." He pulled her to their bedroom and swiftly unmade the bed.

Natalie was relieved to finally remove the stiff work appropriate outfit she was wearing and find something more comfortable to slip into. Ignacio followed her lead by taking off his shirt and only finding a pair of pajama pants to relax in. He crawled into their bed and beckoned her to come join him. It didn't take much else to convince her. She slinked into their bed and rested her head against his chest.

"There you go, cariño," His voice was a hushed whisper that was barely audible. He tangled his fingers in her short hair and combed through it as he watched her struggle to keep her eyes open.

The sound of his heart beating and his quiet breathing made all of her previous troubles fade away in an instant. She finally felt calm again after the terrible day she had. Her arms wrapped around his torso as she cuddled herself closer to him, slowly falling asleep.

Ignacio smiled to himself before leaning into his pillow and stared up at the ceiling. He thought about what Natalie might want to do with him on her fake sick day off before drifting off himself. One of his hands rubbed lazy circles between her shoulder blades and that repetitive motion relaxed both of them. Eventually, both fell soundly asleep while cradled in each other's arms, the worries that once plagued Natalie being quickly forgotten.

Tag list: @rainy-day-ships @bobmckenzie @wanderers-wife @cherrypieships @gideongrovel @nonesenseships @hollandmarchsdork @williameaston lmk if you want to be added or removed! ♡

#my stuff ♡#Ignacio ⛓#ok to rb!#safeshiptember #selfshiptember

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 2 years

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The Key to Your Heart (Part 07 of 18)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader | The Winter Soldier X Reader

Word count: 2.6 K

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{Marvel Masterlist}

Summary: Joining the Avengers wasn't on your plans. Not until Steve asked you to help his best friend. Bucky was Bucky, but the Winter Soldier still came from time ti time, bringing with him chaos and destruction. And you was supposed to keep that side of him away... But what happens when both Bucky and the Winter Soldier start to enjoy your company more than anyone else? Should you turn your back on the Soldier, ignore his own fears and traumas? That's exactly what everyone wants. But you were never known for following orders...

A/N: Special thanks to my wonderful friend @multific for all her help through this story. I love you, girl!!

More Than Words

It's around 2 am when you follow Bucky, walking fast and trying not to make too much noise. With these many people around, it's not that rare to stumble on someone awake even at this time. But when you reach the gym, you're relieved that you were not forced to come up with some excuse.

“Day five of training,” Bucky says, pushing the door open for you to get inside. “I have something new for today.”

“What is it?” As Wanda keeps working only with that cube, making you lift it and then putting so much weight on it that you just can't move it anymore, Bucky has been helping you explore it more. You were scared at first, you still are, but he makes you comfortable, and the way he trusts you, makes you trust yourself as well.

“I've been thinking and I believe you can do it.” You both move to your usual place in the middle of the gym, away from the equipment. “Today, I want you to create a shield.”

“A shield?” You ask, taking your jacket off and throwing it away. “Like Steve's?”

“Yeah.” He nods, tilting his head to the now-fixed glass wall. “If you can shoot it, you can mold it as a protection.”

“What if I can't?”

“We'll find out today.”

You're not sure what for, but you just smile. You've been spending a lot of time with Bucky and the way he's helping you, losing sleep, being so unbelievably patient... It's just getting to you. “Alright.” Nodding you step closer. “How do we do it?”

“Close your eyes and imagine you're holding Steve's shield.” You immediately do as he says, your left arm half bent in front of your body. “Now visualize it. I know you stole it a couple of times so that won't be hard.”

“You know me so well.” You giggle, but then you focus. You know what to do next, so you move your right hand slightly, guiding your power to where you need it.

“Hey,” Bucky mutters, and you feel him touching your hand and pushing it down. “Remember what I said.”

“It doesn't come from my hands, it comes from me.” Reciting his words, you take a deep breath, molding the erupting energy to the shape you want. Suddenly you feel pressure on it, furrowing your eyebrows, you release more power, and then, you feel a tap.

“It's almost solid.” He speaks and you open your eyes, seeing the messy, flowy pinkish energy on your arm, just like Steve's shield would.

“My God.” You exclaim, a bright smile on your lips. “C'mon, give it a punch.”

“Slow down, I don't wanna hurt you.”

“You won't.” With a quick move of your hand, you make the round form float, making it stand on midair, some feet away from you. “Punch it. Let's see how much power I need to keep myself from getting punched by a supersoldier.”

“Good.” He says, smiling as well. “You can protect yourself and others. That's amazing.” He's barely done speaking when he throws a punch, and it offers little resistance, disappearing suddenly as you get startled. “Steve's shield is made of vibranium, not plastic.”

“Ouch.” You exclaim, putting up the shield again. “That was very mean of you.”

“I'm a mean teacher sometimes.” He snaps back, throwing another punch, weaker this time. The energy moves but resists.

“I'll keep punching it, each one will be harder than the last. So keep in mind you'll need to make it stronger every time, alright?” Silently, you eagerly nod. “Ok, let's start.”

And it goes on for quite a while. You do have to stop a few times in the beginning when the shield doesn't resist, but with time, you get the hang of it. And Bucky is merciless. He avoids using the metal arm, and you're thankful for that because his flesh arm can make a hell of destruction already. A couple of hours after, you're panting, exhausted despite not engaging in physical training this time.

So at some point, you just lie down on the floor, eyes on the ceiling as you catch your breath. “Done for today?”

“You wanna keep going?” You ask, lifting your head to look at him, coming from the fridge with a water bottle for himself and another onde that he gives you before sitting down. “I'm worn out.”

“Your powers make you as weak as you'd be in hand-to-hand combat. It may not look like it, but you're tiring your body just as much.” He takes a few sips from his bottle before lying down next to you. “But you did well. You'll be a good Avenger.”

“When do you think I'll go to missions?”

“I'm not sure, that's with Fury and Tony. But it'll probably be something easy at first. And Steve will go with you, that's obvious.”

“And you?” Turning your head to the side, you find his blue eyes already set on you. “I'll need you there too.”

“Of course, doll. Just... It's most likely for the Winter Soldier to come after a mission. It happens almost every time, so that's why I'm only assigned when I'm necessary.” There's sadness in his eyes, and he looks away, at the ceiling.

“Well, you'd be necessary to me.” You say in a low voice, moving to lay on your side, holding your head up with your hand. “And I'm fine with the Soldier. When he comes, I'll be here waiting for him.”

“(Y/N)...”

“Bucky...” You mimic his tone, rolling your eyes. “The Soldier is away because he's at peace... I think. But when and if he comes out again, I'll be right here to keep helping him as I've been helping you.”

“You still need to be careful, (Y/N). If I ever hurt you, I-”

“Don't think about that.” Sitting up, you grab his arm, shaking it slightly. “You're trusting me not to knock you out with my powers, trust me in this too.”

“Are you sure you and Steve aren't related? Because he was stupidly brave, just like you.” He giggles, sitting up as well. “Back in the day.”

“Skinny Steve was a badass.”

“Oh, he was.” Bucky giggles, bending a leg and resting an arm on his knee. “Getting beat up in alleys, lying over and over again on his army enlistments at the risk of getting arrested.”

That makes you laugh, running a hand through your hair and letting it down from the ponytail. “He told me how he jumped on a grenade, so his body would take some of the hit and give the others a better chance. That... That amazes me. He was brave and noble even before the serum. And that's what makes him a hero. What makes us heroes.” You gesture at you and Bucky, moving closer to him. “Doing the possible and impossible to make what's right, to safe people, protect them.”

“You're in the right place, doll.” He says, a beautiful smile on his face. “You and Steve have a lot in common. I don't get why you and he never tried to get together.”

“Told you, Steve is like a brother to me.” You don't get why he mentions it all of a sudden, looking a little... Sad? “...And he's not even my type.”

“And what's your type?”

Blushing, you look down, biting your lip. You didn't know you have a type, but when you think about the perfect man... Bucky is the one who comes up. “Mmm...” Shaking your head slightly, you clear your throat. “I like dark hair. Beard.”

“Really?”

“Really.” You nod, blushing more at his smile. Did he get it...? “He's... Buffy and I like that but I just can't look at him romantically. I just see the older brother I never asked for.” Rolling your eyes, you both giggle.

“So I'm guessing Thor isn't your type either?”

Again, you shake your head no. “Being honest now, from all the Avengers, you're the only one who's my type. I-I mean...” You look away, standing up. “Mmm, who gets closest to my type, that's what I meant.”

“Oh, I see.” He chuckles, getting up as well. “Well, you're the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen.”

The compliment makes you step back, not only your cheeks but your whole body burns. It tingles. And all that talking about butterflies in the stomach? Completely true. Their little wings are making you feel like you're just about to burst into flames. And you try to tell yourself those are only words... But why does it feel like they're so much more? “Well, thanks...” You mutter, glancing at him. “You're very kind.”

“I'm not trying to be kind, I'm being honest.” He smiles, looking at the window. “We did it again, by the way.”

“What?” Following his gaze, you see that the sky is just starting to light up. “Oh, God.”

“Let's get some sleep then.” As usual, you take his arm, the flesh one.

“Can I ask something, by the way?” You only continue when he nods. “Were you happy back then? I mean, a lot happened after Hydra took you so everything is complicated now... But back then, were you happy?”

You both stop on the stairs, and you look at him. Bucky looks down for a while, the low lights giving you a hard time reading his features. “Yes, I was. And I miss it sometimes. The 21st century has a lot of useful, good things but... I'm still having a hard time adapting, just don't tell anyone.”

“I won't.” You assure him, and an idea comes to your head. There's a restaurant downtown that makes special Saturday nights, with a themed dinner show. And maybe you could make something special for Bucky. “Do you have anything planned for this weekend?” You ask, starting to move again.

“No. Why?”

“I'm going to take you somewhere special.”

“See? Call me old-school, but I'm not used to girls inviting the guys out.”

“Who said I'm asking you out?” Giggling, you turn at him, walking backward. “We'll just hang out, no big deal.” Winking at him, you give a little wave before walking the rest of the way alone to your room.

•••

The next morning, you wake up with Nat knocking on your door, telling you it's almost noon. You dress up and leave, straight to have lunch instead of breakfast.

You get in touch with the restaurant while you eat, but they say Saturday night was already set. And if you want a specific theme, you'd have to get in a huge line. But you have the ultimate card to play, so after you're done, you excuse yourself to Tony's lab, on the other side of the compound. When you get there, he's seated before a 3D armor model, floating above the table, right before his eyes.

“Hey, metalhead.” You call, pushing the glass door open after touching the screen, letting it read your fingerprints. “You busy?”

“I always am.” He answers, tapping the armor and making it spin around. “But how can I help, baby Avenger?”

“Don't call me that.”

“You're youngest Avenger. Makes sense.”

“What about Peter?” You ask, waking over and standing across from him, watching as he adds and removes stuff from the armor.

“He's younger but he's been with us longer.” He taps somewhere and the armor moves aside, so he can look at you. “What do you need?”

“There's a fancy restaurant that makes special nights, and I got in touch with them with a request but they have a huge waiting list.” Drumming your fingers on the screen, you look down at it, pretending you understand what's showing, and trying not to look so... Nervous? “But then I thought: If I get Tony Stark to call them and make the request himself, I bet they wouldn't deny him.”

“So you're using me?” He asks, crossing his arms. “Not very nice of you.”

“Yeah, I'm using my billionaire, super influence, super friend.” Bending over the screens, you push his arm. “C'mon. I wanna do something nice.”

“And what exactly do you want me to request?”

“40's dinner night.”

“Oh.” He raises both hands and stands up with a smile. “Thor was right then.”

“Thor is never right.” You giggle, rolling your eyes.

“Let's see then. Who's this surprise for?” He moves through the lab, and you follow him. Tony stops by a table, with a metal leg on it and a lot of stuff you don't even know what they're supposed to do. He gestures at the empty chair and you sit down. “Captain?”

“No, I–”

“Are you into the Manchurian Candidate?”

“No–. What?” Furrowing your eyebrows, you take a metal square painted red, just to have something to play with. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Richard Condon's 1959?” He asks, and you shake your head no. “It's about the government brainwashing people to become assassins.”

“Tony...” You raise your voice, eyes wide. “Don't you ever call him that again!”

“Oh, you're defending him now.”

“Yes, I'm defending him.” Rolling your eyes, you stand up. “Just call the restaurant, please. I want to make something nice for him.” Taking the phone off your pocket, you pass it to Tony.

He gives you an overdramatic eyeroll before taking the phone from your hand.

And your billionaire friend sets everything up. So, on the next Saturday, the night had only fallen and you're getting ready. You ask both Nat and Wanda to help you buying the dress, and now getting your hair and make-up done, all in the 40 styles.

Your long hair is done in waves, flowing down your shoulders, and the makeup is simple. The dress is perfect. Red in color, matching your lipstick and emphasizing your skin tone. The mid-length touches your knees as it flows around your legs. It's a simple dress at first glance, but with the girl's help, you made everything look perfect.

And you feel beautiful. Who knew a simple red dress would make you feel this way?

When it's time to go, you put the high heels on and leave the room. Bucky is waiting by the small lounge, and when you see him, you can't help but lose your breath. He has his hair slid back and the military uniform on. You did tell him to dress up 40s style, just didn't tell him why. But God... You weren't expecting that.

“Oh my gosh...” You mutter, smiling, and look him up and down. “You look–”

“Nothing compared to you.” He cuts you off, walking over you and reaching out his hand, which you take. He then spins you around, and you're probably red as a tomato when you're facing him again. “You're stunning. Absolutely gorgeous.”

“Thank you.” You whisper, taking a deep breath. “But let's go now. The night has only just started.”

@hi-im-fan-trash @takeabreathdeath @pre-google @thespeeder @heavenly1927 @marvel-fanfic-writer-8675 @insidxangel @winters1917 @plethoravellichor @meggiesposts @hollie911 @saranghaey @lexi-anastasia @lechaircharles @mememe7147

#imagine bucky #bucky imagine #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #imagine bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #the winter solider x reader #the winter soldier fanfiction #the winter solider imagine #imagine the winter soldier

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kitkat-2204 · 1 year

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Journal’s Past Midnight: Assignment Mishap

Yesterday I allowed something to happen that I don't usually allow. I was working on my final 15 page paper on an aquarium accident in Berlin, assigned by my journalism professor near its deadline, completely panicked by the nearing due date as I frantically tried to finish the last page of this paper right before the deadline approached.

"I can't afford another late grade." I thought as I continued to write my paper, listening to some quiet music at this calm hour of night. I try not to be too anxious, as I was in my room, calm, swaddled by blankets listening to relaxing music, to continue to remind myself to stay calm and focused.

Our professor expects us to do a lot of research and provide evidence and detail when proving your claim in regards to the factual evidence held in the article. As he takes another sip of his water as he begins watching videos to use quotes for his paper, he stumbles apon a video summarizing the events occured in a nice visuals to make is easy for him to understand. As he begins watching the video, he tries listening to the german reporter explaining the tragedy, but for a particularly odd reason, his eyes only focus on the glass that holds the water behind it. He slowly watches as the glass struggles to contain its contents with any last grips it has, gathering more and more pressure on the glass as the water slowly leaks out crack by crack...slowly more and more water beginning to spill out.. the glass going weaker... "Oh!" I think as I realized I haven't peed all day. I could feel my crotch begin to quiver at the idea of impending release, and considered going to the bathroom, until I looked at the time. “I definitely cannot get up now, I only have 45 minutes to finish this assignment and I need to find this quote before it is due." I thought as I continued to watch the video at my own displeasure to find a quote that perfectly matches the statement I wrote. As I played the video, the reporter begins talking about the specific details of the incident and analyzes the details of severity of the accident. “Perfect!" I thought as I assumed she would stray away from the water based conversation, but boy, was I incorrect. As she described the details of the incident accordingly, I noticed she was using very specific words, words that started to stand out to me as I was writing. Words like "Bursting" and "Leaking" and "Water Pressure" came up quite often. As much as I tried my best to stay focused on the assignment at hand, I couldnt help but shake my legs at the idea of water bursting and flowing in places it shouldn't. My mind wandered and I couldn't help but think about allowing just a little bit of it to come out. "What would be the harm in it? I'm alone right now aren't I? It's not like I can use the bathroom right now, I have no time." I think. I begin to try to relax my body and slightly give in to what my body is so desperately telling me to do, and I allowed the glass to spill just a little bit. "That feels a little bit better. Now to focus back on finding a quote for my report." I said as I continued the video. As much I thought this one little leak would help me focus a bit better, I realized that leak was the cork that was stopping my own flood from occurring. I couldnt focus on the words the reporter was saying anymore, the only thing that attracted my mind was the footage on the screen. Leaks coming left and right from the aquarium, the pressure slowly but surely adding onto the weight of the tank, my eyes began to flutter at the idea of release, and I couldn't focus at all. I allowed one more leak to spill as I just couldn't help but relieve the smallest bit of pressure with all of the tempting visuals surrounding me, but I then realize I lost track of the time, and it is now 10 minutes until my deadline is due.

“Fuck! Whatever I am just going to use what I have now as my final quote I just need to get this done!" I thought panicked as I frantically begin writing down the last parts of my report. As I begin writing down what I can remember, the only thing I can think of is the water slowly creeping its way around the glass, my mind in such a trance as I so desperately want to allow my bladder to just flow in the same way the aquarium stream flows throughout the building. I contemplate on giving in, allowing myself to just release, then finally focus back onto my paper, with only 5 more minutes on the clock, that seems like my only option. The confusing part of all of this is that I found myself clicking the video and pushing play as I made the decision to let go, to amplify the feeling and give me a sense of imagination as I am finally allowing it to happen. As I expected, with the visual of the water bursting from the glass wall in the aquarium, the feeling of release became indescribable. As I watched and permitted my bladder to flow out in between my legs and release into the comfort of my clothing, blankets and soft pillows beneath me, it sort of felt.. comforting the warmth I felt within the relief of finally going. As I begin to leave the trance of relaxation I was briefly in, I began to realize it was 2 minutes before my assignment was due.

“Fuck!!!" I thought as I gathered up the last words of my concluding statement and promptly submit the assignment right at 11:59. "I really hope I don't get another C on this." I thought.

#omorashi #pants wetting

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roslingoblin · 1 year

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I made a terrible decision.

Its... 3:30am and I'm finally winding down for bed, right? I go to brush my teeth. As soon as the toothbrush is in my mouth I realize I should try to pee again so I figure fuck it, I won't die if I pee with a toothbrush in my mouth.

The first mistake was pulling up my "literally lold" board on Pinterest (which interestingly enough is 90% pinned Tumblr screenshot) and asking Pinterest to show me similar shit. The criteria for being added to this board is I must actually physically laugh.

And I occasionally absently brush my teeth because that's what you do when a toothbrush is in your mouth even if you're trying not to because you can't spit at that time. So foam is building steadily in my mouth and I'm reading shit that's designed to make me personally laugh, so my mouth is getting hella tight trying not to open enough to laugh or smile too much because the foam is really putting pressure on my cheeks at this point.

Then I feel it. Pressure building. No, I don't just need to pee; these are leftover problem pressure levels.

You see, I've been frequenting the porcelain throne an awful lot this week. I'm drinking enough water to compensate but the Hershey's Squirts have been hella fucking me over. I thought it was all done.

I was wrong.

Did you know your mouth contorts in all kinds of interesting ways during a bowel movement?

I didn't know that. Or at least never noticed it before tonight.

So this gnawing tightness of I NEED TO EXPLODE, RIGHT THE FUCK NOW hits my ass and there I am trying to hold in as much minty foam as possible in my mouth AND not laugh at humor specifically targeted towards me AND not move my face too much while trying to figure out which direction to wiggle to let my poor colon finish opening the valve to the great fudgeline and at this point I'm damn near in tears

The gurgling

THE GURGLING

Don't ask me why I didn't at least put the phone down I was so focused on not spitting tooth paste and trying to unkink whatever remaining chunk there was in my intestines I was just happy for a mild distraction from the discomfort. Because at this point my cheeks were physically painful from tightness, like someone popped an alkaseltzer in my mouth and made a bet with me not to swallow or spill.

Then the load finally hit the exit point

And I gotta tell you

You use way more of your face when relieving your colon than you think.

My entire face contorts and all I can do is friggin freeze and PRAY

I need the right stuff to come out and the right stuff to stay in and what the fuck else happens I do. Not. Care.

I just kept shitting. I thought I had finished relieving myself and then more kept coming out. There were tears.

Gotta tell you I just heard someone going into the same bathroom 20 minutes later and I held my breath. Because I flushed several times and cleaned the area afterwards but I was not sure I'd actually gotten everything.

My asshole is raw. My mouth is raw. My cheeks ache, on both ends. Pretty sure I thumb rolled some trash onto that Pinterest board during my efforts.

Even my dog sniffed my butt in concern when joining me on the bed. "Uh, mom? You okay? This smells a little bit *extra* right now."

So the moral of the story is:

If you realize you need to use the toilet while brushing your teeth, put the fucking toothbrush down and spit first. Do one gods-damned thing at a time.

OR ELSE.

#diarrhea #toilet humor

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ofpineapplesanddawns · 2 years

Note

Another one because I’m cheeky and addicted

back rubs

- Martin Whitly x Harry watling

Totally fine to send me more! :D

On with the fic!

"You're stressed." Martin commented from where he sat.

"I am very aware of that, Martin, thank you very much for your observation." Harry mumbled, chewing on the tip of a pen as he looked over the stuff in front of him. Being the vicar for the hospital came with the annoying paper work as well, it seems, and he really wasn't in the mood to do it, but someone had to.

Martin wasn't of any help, really, he probably shouldn't even be here. But Mr. David seemed to have no problem leaving him alone to 'help' the poor holy man as he did his work. It kept Martin out of trouble and got him moving about. And besides, Mr. David was just outside the door of the office, and Harry knew where the panic button was, not that he ever used it since he got this job.

He heard a book close, one of the medical books that Martin would bring with him to sit and read when he wasn't needed. Then the shuffling of feet, warm hands were soon on his shoulders. "I could help."

"I'm not in the mood, I'm still..." Harry's face was red at the thought of things from much earlier in the day.

"No, no, not that." Martin chuckled, placing a kiss to the back of Harry's neck. "Let me help relieve some of the physical stress on your body. You know I take my role as a doctor very seriously."

That was true, even though Martin had certainly gave himself a very negative reputation by putting that role and the skills that came with it to dangerous practices. "I... guess you could be of some help, just try not to distract me, I need to get this paperwork done."

"Don't worry, I'll be good." Martin chuckled and Harry nearly moaned as he felt the hard pressure of thumbs on the neck, just where the shoulders met it. Wow, he knew he had been carrying a lot of tension for months now, but he didn't realize just a little pressure could make a world of difference.

He decided not to comment at the knowing laugh that came from Martin, instead he tried to focus on the paperwork in front of him. But that was becoming difficult the more those talented hands, that had explored so much of his body before, were finding all the tight knots along his back.

After what felt like ages, he set down the pen and folded his arms, resting his head on them. "Please be a little rougher..." He mumbled quietly, embarrassed by his words, ones he had repeated from earlier but in a much different context.

"Want me to do this skin-to-skin? Might feel even better." Martin's voice was soft, gentle, he could be kind when he wanted to be.

"Please."

He felt his shirt become untuckled, and those hands he had come to like were on him, warm, a bit dry, but still, he was enjoying the pressure, the rubs that he now felt directly against his skin.

Harry's mind was pleasantly fuzzy, a soft moan finally escaping him. He couldn't remember if anyone had ever done this for him before, had his wife? No, he tried not to think of her, it depressed him, he wanted to think more about the touches he felt, about the terrible man he had come to like.

He shivered as the hands moved lower. "I could make this much better for you if you were lying down." Martin whispered. "Think we could get away with that?"

"Mmm... yeah, probably, but just... this is good for now." Harry mumbled. "Don't stop."

"Wasn't planning on it."

Martin sure is being nice to Harry in these stories. :3

#martin whitly x harry watling #john's drabbles #good omens extended universe

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lovelygoodtimes · 2 years

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The *funishment*

I accidentally didn't follow one of your commands. You had told me to do the dishes, and I got distracted so I didn't do them. You're not really mad. But I still deserve a punishment for not following your orders. You know how much degrading and humiliating tasks turn me on. So you tell me to make a list of all my kinks. Split the list into the ones that we've tried and that I love, and the ones that we haven't tried yet but I'd really like to try. I sit at the table and start to make my list. Which is already making me very wet. Once I'm done I bring it back to you and you tell me to get into position. Which for us means me kneeling in front of you, head down, legs spread apart, and my chest pushed out so I'm completely on display for you. Usually my hands would rest on my legs to show my complete submission, but since I'm still holding the paper I had wrote my kinks on, you let me skip that part. You tell me to read the list off to you. I start with the things you know. Spanking, teasing, edging, nipple play, being tied up, all the things we've tried that I love. Then I get to the list of things that I really want to try. You knew some of them but some surprised you. I list temperature play (ice/wax), burning my clit with toothpaste or some other cream that does it, numbing my clit so I feel nothing, being blindfolded, using a crop, pussy smacks, nipple smacks, feather play and teasing, and a few others. I get wet from having to list them off to you and having to say them out loud, which was part of my punishment.

A few days later you surprise me by telling me to go to the bedroom, strip, and lie on the bed on my back. I'm already wet as I follow your command, imagining what you have in store for me. You come in and see me exactly as you requested, naked and in the center of the bed on my back. I see the rope in your hands and I bite my lip to suppress the moan that I want to let out. I squeeze my thighs together and you just laugh. You spread my legs apart first, tying them to each corner of the bed so my pussy is exposed to you and I can't squeeze my thighs together anymore to relieve any of this pressure that's building. You then move onto my hands, also tying them to the corners of the bed with rope. So I'm now spread on the bed, completely at your mercy. I see you pull out a black piece of cloth and I look at you confused. "Can't have you seeing what I'm doing, Kitten, can we?" I suddenly remember telling you I wanted to try being blindfolded and I feel another rush of heat in my pussy as it throbs as I realize what's going on tonight. You tie the blindfold around my eyes so I can't see anything. I try to listen for you but I can't hear you. I can't even tell if you're in the room anymore. I feel helpless and it's turning me on even more.

I finally hear you across the room near the foot of the bed say "Aw look at you princess, so wet and I haven't even touched you yet. It's cute how desperate you are." I let out a moan. I can feel how wet I am, especially now that I know you're watching me. It's turning me on so much more not being able to see you but knowing you're watching me and see how wet I'm getting.

After a while I start to squirm and whimper, not being able to lie there and not see you or feel you. I hear you chuckle. After leaving me to squirm and whine there for what feels like hours, I finally feel you drag something soft across the skin of my neck. I can't place what it is though. It tickles and I can barely feel it. I feel you slide it down to my nipples and I finally realize it's a feather as you circle my left nipple, teasing it, and my already hard nipple gets even harder if that's even possible. You then do the same to my right nipple, making it incredibly hard. I then feel you trail it down my stomach and trace it along my waistline. It feels so incredibly I pull at the restraints and try to lift my hips up to get more. I can practically see your smirk as you laugh even with the blindfold on. I feel you being the feather down to my pussy lips. Just tracing up and down. The teasing is driving me crazy. I beg you for more. "Please Daddy please I need of anything! I need more please just give me more!" As I beg you, I feel you take the feather away and I can barely hear the swish of a crop as you bring it down right on my clit. I cry out and squirm. It hurts so bad but feels so incredibly good. When I had put that on my list, I had put it more as a punishment or "funishment" but I never thought you'd bring it into our play just for fun to surprise me. I squirm and you smack my clit again with the crop. I can tell you're not hitting me as hard as you could with the crop, which I appreciate. I'm loving the pain you're giving me. You smack my pussy this time with the crop and I hear the wonderful sound of it hitting my pussy because it sounds so much harsher in a way. My pussy has so much wetness leaking out of it, I can hear the difference as it hits my wet pussy. I moan and arch my back for you. You smack my pussy again and I cry out in a mix of pain and the pleasure that I'm feeling. I suddenly feel the wet leather of the riding crop against my lips. I immediately open my mouth to lick it and taste myself. "Good girl" you tell me and I feel another rush of wetness come out of me from those two words. Once I clean the crop, you take it away.

I hear you walking around the room but I can't tell what you're doing. Suddenly I feel something cold on my neck. I gasp at the sudden coldness. I feel your smirk against me and I realize you're using your mouth to run the ice along my skin. I breathe heavily as I feel you make your way down to my nipples. I circle my right nipple with the ice before finally dragging the ice directly across my nipple. I moan and arch my back into you. It feels so good! It's so cold against my hot skin and it feels amazing on my hard nipples. The coldness is almost painful but it makes my nipples so much more sensitive, it feels like every nerve ending is electrified now. You do the same to my left nipple and I squirm and moan under your mouth. I arch my back into you and I feel my hips start to hump on their own accord. I suddenly feel your lips leave my skin and I groan at the loss of contact. I yelp as I now feel you use the ice on my clit. I can feel your hot breath on it, but the cold ice is a stark contrast and it makes me whither underneath you. I buck my hips and you hold my thighs down so I can't move and have to take your torture. I moan and beg you for more. You circle my clit until the ice melts and it feels like I'm on fire, I need you so much. Next I feel you push a piece of ice into my pussy. It's so cold it burns. I squirm under your hold. It's making me so wet but my pussy is trying to push out the new cold invader you've just pushed in. You push a second piece of ice in, pushing the first even deeper into my pussy, as punishment for me letting my pussy push it out instead of holding onto it, since as your sub I take whatever torture and pleasure you allow me to have. I moan and pull on the restraints, feeling the rope dig into my skin but for some reason that just makes me feel even better. I let out a breath of relief when the ice finally melts. I can feel the wetness run out of my pussy, which is most definitely a combination of my juices and the now melted ice.

I take a few deep breaths, calming myself and trying to prepare myself for whatever torturous thing you have planned next that'll almost certainly turn me even more into mush since I'm so wet I can barely think now. I try to wrack my brain to think of what else I put on that list. I groan in frustration, hating the fact that I put so many things on that list. All I need is to cum I'm so wet! I need your cock. But I know how much you love teasing me so I know this night is far from over.

I finally hear your footsteps come closer to me. Suddenly, I feel something hot and burning hit my skin. I cry out. You continue to drip this hot burning liquid around my chest, allowing me to get used to it. I finally realize as it hardens that it's wax. You start to drip it towards my nipples, covering them both in wax and I moan and whimper. I try to lift myself off the bed and I pull at the ropes. I can't take much more of this it's so much pain and pleasure my brain is cloudy. After covering my breasts and nipples in wax, I feel you start to drip it down my stomach and towards my waist line. "No please Master no! Please I don't know if I can take it on my pussy" I beg as I realize what you're about to do. "You know your safe word," is all you tell me. You give me a second to back out and use my safe word to end this but I clamp my lips together. It feels so good I don't want to stop and we both know I love the pain. I feel the hot wax drip onto my pussy lips. I cry out and try to move my hips away from you. I feel some of the burning liquid fall onto my clit and my head swirls from the pain.

Suddenly, it all stops. I can still feel all the wax harden on my body. I try to listen for where you are or what you're doing but it's so hard to hear over my ragged breathing. I suddenly feel thick strips of what has to be leather hit the skin on my stomach. It's not hard. You're just using barely enough force to feel the lick of the leather strips. I realize this is a whip and I bite my lip. We've only used this once and you had made me cum just from using it. You make lazy slaps in a figure 8 pattern, whipping the wax off my skin. I feel it start to hit my skin closer and closer to my tits. You start to use it on my tits, focusing on my nipples. It's still just barely enough force to knock the wax off my skin. My skin feels on fire I love the way you're whipping me. I know I probably wouldn't have been able to take it as hard as I know you can use it after the pain of the wax, but the way you gently whipping in along my skin now is making my body heat up and my nerve endings feel like they're on fire. I moan at the feeling of the whip on my nipples. The whip flicking the wax off my nipples sends shots of pleasure directly to my pussy. I moan and beg you "please Master" over and over again. I don't even know what I'm begging you for. I just need more. You slowly start to whip down my skin towards my wet pussy. I moan as I finally feel the whip hit my pussy. The leather strips feel so heavy on my pussy lips and it leaves a bit of a sting, but it makes it so pleasurable. I arch my back and beg you for more. You whip my pussy a few more times, hitting my clit multiple times in the process. I can feel the orgasm building as I moan and beg you to let me cum. "No Kitten. You know the rules. No cumming without my permission". I know the rules but I can't take this kind of pleasure. "Please Master please! I'll do anything just please give me permission to cum!" "No," is all you say but I swear it makes me even closer to an orgasm. You know that telling me no and denying me orgasms makes my clit throb and my pussy ache. I love knowing you're in control and you control if/when I have pleasure and permission to cum. I moan for you. You use the whip on my pussy a few more times, and just when I'm about to cum, you stop and pull it away. I feel the leather strips against my mouth. "Lick it clean for making you so wet slut". I moan and stick my tongue out, licking the leather strips and tasting myself on them. Once you're satisfied, you pull it away.

My body feels like it's on fire! I feel the bed dip near my pussy, and I can feel your head between my legs. You lick up my slit and I moan and buck my hips. You hold me down as I moan and whimper for you. "You're so wet baby girl. Daddy wants to taste you. If you're good and last for 5 minutes without cumming, I'll let you cum all night. Don't disappoint me baby girl." I moan and can barely think straight as you start eating my pussy. I tug at the ropes and struggle against your strong grip as I try to move my hips closer to your mouth. I feel your tongue all over my pussy. I feel you latch onto my clit and lick and suck it. I throw my head back and moan, unable to take this level of pleasure. "One more minute baby girl. You can do it for Daddy." You say against my clit and the vibrations make me want to cum right there. I bit my lip hard and dig the ropes into my skin to ground me. I don't want to disappoint you. Even more than I want to cum, I want to make you proud. I try to focus on my breathing as you expertly tease my clit and keep me on the edge. Just one word from you and I know I'd cum right then and there. I moan for you and just as I'm about to think I can't handle it anymore, you finally give me permission and command me "cum for Daddy". I feel my pussy spasm as I cum. My whole body spasms and thrashes from the strength of the orgasm and I can't contain my moans. I see stars in my vision as I throw my head back and feel how amazing the pleasure is. You continue to lick me as I ride out my high.

As I finally calm down, I feel you closer to my face. I feel you untie the blindfold and I blink up at you, finally able to see again. "Thank you Daddy" I say and you smile. "Oh baby girl we're not done yet. I just wanted to look you in the eyes as I fuck your soaking wet pussy Princess." I moan as I feel your hard cock push into my pussy. I'm still so sensitive from the earth shattering orgasm you just gave me. I can feel myself throb around your hard cock and I moan. It feels amazing to be finally filled with you. Especially after all the torturous pleasure you just put me through. You fuck me and I continue to moan for you. The feeling of your hard cock pounding in and out of my wet and sensitive pussy is almost too much for me to handle. I feel the pleasure start to build, and you know me so well that you can see it on my face that I'm at the edge. "Cum with me baby girl" you command and I feel myself cum again and squeeze your cock as your shoot your hot cum and fill my pussy.

#just an imagine i wrote #story

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anxietysroomsupport · 1 year

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(TW: suicide / vent) i have attempted suicide today. a failed attempt only by chance

i don't really know why i'm writing here. i guess i just wanna talk about it with someone. i did tell some of my friends but other those few minutes, it isn't getting mentioned anymore and i- ..i know they do care about me but.. sigh. i don't know what i was expecting once done it. and i don't wven feel bad about it. am i shaken up? yeah, but i have been hoping to do this in years. doing it felt like an achievement

and about the act: what i can't understand is how did i fall? i wanted to.. swing for just a few seconds and get the illusion of a suicide to feel better (not like i really cared if i did succeed), and at the second try i counted to 10 and was going back on the chair. next thing i know, i am on the ground. the chair was now on the floor somehow and the pain i should have felt by falling was numbed down. was i uncoscious? was reaching the 11th second enough to do that? or was that some sort of amnesia, maybe? i know for sure it didn't pass too much time because the song that was playing was at its end when i got up

sorry if you can't help. thanks for everything<3

Anonymous asked:

(TW: suicide / vent) i'm that anon again, and i just wanted to ask if you know if mine was a failed suicide attempt, a parasuicide or something else? internet isn't helping

so, what i got that gets into the first one's category is intentionally doing it with the thought of ending it. and yeah, it checks out, but i also was numb and didn't care whether i ended up alive or not. but i also just wanted the illusion of an attempt, which would make it parasuicide? i don't know and not calling it a sucide attempt makes me feel like shit. i'm an attention seeker, alright

Hi Anon,

When I first saw this ask, it had already been so long since it was sent in, I sat on responding for a while because I am afraid you might already be gone. I have thought about it often. But I wanted to respond in case you are still here and in case there are other people in your position right now.

It’s not perfectly clear to me how you attempted suicide, but my guess from the clues (swinging, a chair, numbness, and falling) is that you practiced hanging yourself. 10 seconds without oxygen or blood flow to the brain would be enough to cause intense dizziness and disorientation, which could have caused you to fall even after you relieved the pressure. Sometimes the sudden blood flow returning can also be disorienting. Amnesia is not likely. It would be more likely that you lost consciousness briefly. It’s possible to pass out for just a few seconds and then regain consciousness.

When parts of your body don’t have sufficient oxygen, it’s common to feel numb. Similar to a leg falling asleep when you sit on it for too long. Or you may just have been unconscious during the fall and the pain had already begun to subside when you were waking up. Luckily it sounds like the fall was not a bad one.

It reminds me of a dumb game my friend group used to play in high school. It was Spin the Bottle with everyone sitting in a circle, except instead of kissing, if it landed on you, you choked yourself until you passed out, or until people got bored of waiting and spun again. Can’t tell you why this was a sudden (and brief) trend at my school, but I think it falls under your question about parasuicide.

As far as I can tell, parasuicide is a more umbrella term that includes suicide as well as intentionally performing dangerous acts that could kill you, but aren’t necessarily intended to kill you.

The difference seems to boil down to Why you did it. If you did it with the intent to kill yourself, it would be attempted suicide. If you did it to hurt yourself, or to feel what it would be like, maybe it is parasuicide. Ultimately I don’t think that finding the right term is the important issue here.

You say you feel like shit if you Don’t call it a suicide attempt. Have you thought about why it makes you feel wrong? Guilt? Shame? There are strong emotions that you’re dealing with and they are clues. I don’t ask these questions to interrogate you, but as prompts for you to really think about and explore what’s going on. Would you be more upset with yourself if you died in a stupid accident than if it were on purpose? Why?

Maybe you are seeking attention and maybe that’s a good thing. When it doesn’t matter to you if you survive or not, it’s a sign that something is very wrong in your surroundings, or that your brain can’t reconcile something. Maybe you’re stuck and can’t find the exit, so you’re exploring making your own. But there are other ways out that don’t require putting your life in danger. Calling attention to your situation could be very important to getting help.

You’ve reached out to your friends but they didn’t respond in the way you hoped they would. You wanted more concern, more recognition that things are bad. Maybe you wanted them to do something, to take action for you. It is normal and okay to want these things. You just need to tell the right people. You need to tell someone who has the power and knowledge to act, and that usually isn’t going to be other young people who haven’t needed to seek out help before.

Tell someone who feels a responsibility toward you; a teacher, a parent, a supervisor, a doctor. Tell all of them. It is never too late to tell one more person. It is never too late to ask for help, even when it feels impossible. It’s not impossible. Pause, take a breath, and ask.

Please take care of yourself.

-bun

#suicide #suicide mention #vent #suffocation #cursing

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incesthemes · 4 months

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final thoughts: hannibal season 1

one thing about me is that i am a big fan of tragedies and mysteries and horrible, terrible things, but i also get unbearably frustrated with the ways these stories can unfold until i hit the point of catharsis. right now i am so, so deeply frustrated with how the season ended. it was so well done and i am empathizing with will to no end.

i'm clutching my head and groaning—and i especially want to know, did will even try telling them the truth? did he present his case? was the fbi so ready to dismiss it after all he'd done for them? that's the most frustrating part. because either will didn't say anything—which is frustrating in itself—or he did and they didn't believe him.

(i feel like i need to start season 2 immediately, just to find some kind of closure here. idk how people who watched this live managed to survive that finale)

anyway, the symbolism and use of motifs were so, so good. from the way hannibal has a moose statue in his office to the way will's nightmares and hallucinations unfolded, everything was masterfully executed. the moose is by far my favorite symbol, and i love how it was used at key points in the story and pushed development in the plot, in will's degradation, and in his realization. morphing the moose into hannibal in the finale was a great choice because it showed the exact moment when he finally accepted the truth.

i like how this show is structured. it's not quite episodic while still maintaining elements of that structure: a "new case" every episode, namely. using that structure especially in the beginning of the season let the pressure really build up without giving will a chance to come down from it all and recover, and it added tension to the story instead of taking away from it, as is usually the case in episodic stories. it was really unique and i'm so impressed with how they combined structures to create this story.

the characters are also pretty awesome in the way most of them are just deeply unlikable. they all make terrible decisions at some point or another, whether they mean to or not, and they all hurt one another in some way. even characters like alana contribute to the building tension through her decisions even despite being a rather level-headed and ethical person! and that's just the tip of the iceberg: it just gets worse from thereon in.

it only took me three days to watch the first season, so i'm tempted to go ahead and start the second... at this rate, i could finish the series in a week. but i can't tell if i need time to recover from that finale, or if i want to plow on ahead and relieve myself from this tension! i will decide after i hit send post lmao. or maybe i'll read a fic or something. who knows. but i am definitely looking forward to season 2—i need to know what comes after this and how, presumably, will gets the hell out of jail.

#liveblogging: hannibal #jesus christ #.txt

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bpdslut4 · 1 year

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Saturday Night 4/29/23

B and L (her boyfriend) came over for a few hours to keep my company. I was talking to B and JM (other best friend) in our group chat and asked if we could all hangout and basically have a group therapy session because all of us were going through some things. JM was supposed to come over too but she had to get her car fixed and then grew tired. We plan on all hanging out tomorrow. B and I were still able to talk about some things that we were going through at the moment. I expressed to her that I felt a depressive episode may be coming on and have been feeling anxious and lonely. I could easily go spend time with my mother but I have been growing to resent her due to her snide remarks. I went off of my birth control because my blood pressure is a little bit on the higher side due to all of the medications I'm on and from other things. I was on the birth control because I had PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome) and some of the side effects can be weight gain/retention. Also something else that I have done that I am really proud of is quitting vaping. I never really had any desire to do it but I did it because my past two relationships did (my mother also vapes). And nicotine is an appetite suppressant and metabolism stimulant, so doing these two things both at the same thing are bound to throw my body for a whirlwind. So I of course gained a few noticeable pounds. My mother is obsessed with image. She herself is a former big girl and has the lap band surgery so her stomach is only the size of a large fist now and can't eat much. I don't think she can stand having a fat daughter. I have called her out on it and even B and JM have called her out on it but she still makes subtle remarks. I don't even know if she realizes she's doing it at this point anymore. I would understand if she was doing it out of concern for my wellbeing but I know she's not. Want to know how I know? Because instead of showing me a healthy relationship with food, she bought me shapewear. And when that one didn't do anything, she bought another, and when that one didn't do anything she bought another one. She would've bought another one if I didn't tell her to stop. If you didn't know, shapewear is pretty expensive and my mom makes only a little bit above minimum wage. So that shows you where her priorities are at. There was another incident at the pharmacy (where my mother, B, and JM work) where B said she wanted and ice cold soda and mom agreed and Bridget told her she was missing out (my mom doesn't drink soda anymore because COVID made it taste weird) and she responds with "soda doesn't taste as good as a size 2 feels". That was right out of the book of eating disorders on tumblr, like the hell? Then she goes on to buy this shake thing that has collagen and other shit in it that is supposed to help with weight loss and whatever. I was on facetime with the girls when she was reading off the benefits of this yogurt shake thing and they just stared at me like "is she being for real right now". So it can't just be me reading too much into things. So yeah I kind have just been avoiding her so she's been quiet for now. She's not doing it to be mean, she's just trying to help. Because I have expressed that it's hard to lose weight because of the insulin resistance from the diabetes and the PCOS. I think she just gets a euphoric high off of being skinny like I used to when I was really skinny (my friends have confirmed this feeling too). When I was involved in diabetic support groups, many of the other girls there admitted to participating in disordered eating rituals at one point or another. Most of us believed it was due to the whole number thing surrounding our food, which made sense. I'm fine now. I don't partake in those activities anymore or feel compelled to from my mothers words or actions.

But anyways, B and L came over and we were talking and B opened up to me about some thing and I felt so relieved to hear that she has felt what I felt like at one time or another. Or actually relief is the wrong word, I guess comforted would be more fit? I always felt so alone and isolated when it came to how I felt and reacted to things, so when she told me a few things she went through it was kind of comforting I guess to know that I'm not alone. She also gives me a lot of a hope, she has really improved from where she was last summer and I am proud of her for how far she has come.

I sobbed a little bit when they left. I missed them. Yes I said them meaning both B and her boyfriend haha. He sat in on our mini therapy session and was very insightful, he is like one of the girls and he is great for her. I texted her a little bit after they left to tell them that I really needed this and I love and appreciate them for coming. She texted me back telling me she loves me so much and how I am doing great and she was proud of me (I showed her this site and she wants to make one now). I haven't heard anyone say they were proud of me in so long (not even at my graduation) and hearing that come from my best friend who I only hear stupid shit from just made me crack. I'm trying so hard to look for a job but no one is calling or emailing back no matter how many times I follow up. I am even applying to jobs not even in my field anymore.

What's that syndrome called where it feels like a duplicate replaced your friend or family? It's like something grass. I think Capgras syndrome? That's what life feels like right now. Maybe I'm just sleep deprived or emotionally exhausted. I cried a lot today and I haven't cried in so long. I'm gonna go to bed.

Okay so I talked to the girls because I was going a little coo coo and they said it could be lack of sleep or derealization or depersonalization from their experience. But I told them I was seeing you Tuesday so not to worry.

#cw vent #diary #bpd fp #bpd problems #actually borderline #bpd vent #borderline personality disorder #bpd #triggering content #edtrigger #tw edtwt

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rabbitindisguise · 1 year

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on one hand I feel an enormous amount of guilt when I have Problem, but whenever I have Problem and someone cares (even if it's an unfixable problem forever) then it's like falling down and expecting to skin my knee and landing instead in a pile of soft fluffy pillows in some kind of bulletproof shelter

It's sort of like the idea that in order to fix a dislocation you have to reduce it, so it goes from throbbing spasms to sharp and excruciating to endorphin high of having been helped by someone stopping the pain from hurting anymore as badly

and I think someday it will start to feel better where I don't have to do as many reductions anymore and it hurts less because I understand stuff better, which I think is a sign of like . . . how I've matured as a person to be able to see that things will feel less badly than they do now eventually (hard with mood disorders). Another sign is that I'm managing to both care deeply about people even when there are Problems, because I used to get so afraid and totally shut down emotionally, and/or struggled to admit that I have negative emotions at all (because I put pressure on myself to be accommodating in ways that aren't sustainable). Being aware and cognizant of my feelings has let me make much less bad decisions, which makes me think that both disassociating and depression have been ways to numb myself to positive feelings out of anxiety about what other people would think or look down on. Now that I'm developing a stronger sense of self I've been able to like, productively disagree with my therapist without me taking the issue and reflecting it on the relationship of therapist/therapized itself, which I feel like is an extension of how my interpersonal relationships are improving me as a person.

So I can get really upset, but when I do get upset now I can think "I am upset" and self soothe and be like "Lav you are upset, you should think about your happy place and take a deep breath focus on the moment." I used to find these things like . . . really cringey, a sign of someone who had problems but felt really good about themselves for improving, which I find threatening because of the idea that if we just tried harder then we'd never make mistakes so all mistakes are malicious was something I ran into a lot with my parents. And yet that sort of counter-thinking was hindering my growth because I couldn't accept that problems could be improved, or even that I could make mistakes. I think protecting the people I care about is more important than trying to side step something that is fundamentally about what I'm afraid of, because I feel that trying to do that is more likely to make that happen than being vulnerable with people and risk unexpected unintentional problems.

Because ultimately at this point I trust the people around me to care and I trust them to do things the best way they know how, which I think is honestly more than what I could have done even a couple months ago. I was really trying to work towards it, but something had to like . . . click in my brain. I still attribute that to the months of effort and therapist and the medication though, because without it I don't think I would have been able to like Cope with everything going on.

I also feel like I am making good efforts, in both trying to use my energy towards things I'm aiming for, and in trying to provide things for people to use to help me. I don't think I can do things on my own and need to recognize the contributions of others, which means recognizing that I can do things to improve that, and part of that means taking care of myself so that I can make the best effort possible.

And beyond all that stuff, I'm so relieved that I am like, more stable and probably will cope with moving 100000000% better than I have in the past, but that I can be . . . normal about it? Sometimes I feel like I didn't understand what "I want to do this because it would make my partner happy" meant, like I could do it logically but emotionally I feel like I have a strong invested interest in that now that I can quantify and translate to my prioritization of what I'm looking for in a apartment. Like even if everything else was perfectly ideal for me I would still be upset because they're upset, and while I can recognize things that are like . . . important enough that suppressing them would be Bad, I can also recognize things that are less important. Plus I trust that if I can communicate, they can understand where I'm coming from and my priorities, which means that by communicating we're coming to better conclusions together than apart.

(edit: another thing I found cringey was the idea of trying to fix my problems and doing it BADLY which is obviously better than not doing it at all but that was really hard to wrap my head around at the time)

I'm tired now so I'm going to post even though I have more thoughts so I can get ready for bed. There's stuff I want to think more on, like how I feel sometimes the pressure to push back on anything to prove that I can to myself being basically nullified by reassurance and what other things that I struggle with that I can improve by reminding myself of simple facts I often forget, and the awareness that I'm making mistakes in regards to my own goals and in regards to things I can't directly observe, but too sleepy now

#personal #mental illness

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