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#Reactions to making someone cry
allylikethecat · 1 month
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"my poor baby, i'm so sorry." this has potential
Hello dearest anon! Last week I said that I would write any new prompt I got first in exchange for feedback on the new All the King's Horses chapter. I have no idea if you sending me this prompt and then THREE whole super lovely comments appearing on that fic are related BUT in case they are, I have done my very best to fill this super fun prompt from the Reactions to making someone cry prompt list! If anyone else wants to send any fun prompts from that list, it can be found HERE.
ALSO I know I haven't filled any of these in a while but I promise I will / am going to get through all of the ones in my inbox eventually! I am a little out of practice so I'm not sure if this is my best work... BUT I tried and also I finished it so I'm counting that as a win! Thank you for taking the time to send it! I hope you enjoy it and are having a lovely Thursday and a great rest of your week!
❤️Ally
"my poor baby, i'm so sorry."
WARNINGS: mentions of past drug abuse, broken bones
Matty managed to hold it together until he was backstage. Sharp, shooting, stabbing pain moving up his ankle with each labored breath. He didn’t dare put weight on it, trying to breathe slowly, even as his lungs screamed desperately for more oxygen, having just completed a two hour show. He felt dizzy and untethered, his head fuzzy with pain as he stumbled over to one of the black gear trunks, “The 1975” spray painted in white stenciled letters on the side. He dropped down heavily onto the trunk, banging his ankle on the side as he did so, gasping in shock. He squeezed his eyes shut. He wasn’t going to cry, he refused to cry. He was alright, he tried to tell himself, cautiously trying to put some of his weight on his foot before recoiling as the burning pain intensified. He wasn’t alright. 
He’s not sure how long he sat there, his head bowed in a silent prayer to the various Gods he didn’t believe in, his curls falling limp and greasy with sweat over his face, begging for the strength to just get up. The rest of the crew were moving around him, packing up the gear and the stage. He’s not sure where the guys went, everyone having their own post show protocol, their own method for dealing with the come down from the rush of another sold out show well done. Matty himself used to get so high he didn’t exist anymore, at least not on the corporeal plane. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter. He didn’t do that anymore. (He wondered if it would numb the pain in his ankle.)  
“Are you just staying here then?” George asked, a bite to his tone, traces of the fight, the argument they had been having before they had put it aside to take the stage present in his voice. Matty opened his eyes, blinking wetly and looking up at George who seemed to loom over him, his arms crossed over his chest, his body language closed off. He had showered, his hair damp, a wet patch showing on the gray fabric of his tee shirt, clinging to skin that hadn’t been fully dried. Matty was still in his stage clothes, the damp fabric clinging to his dried sweat coated skin giving him a chill. 
He shrugged, he didn’t want to fight with George anymore, even though he was the one that had initiated it that afternoon. Throwing out snide, biting comments, looking for George’s soft underbelly, trying to hit where he knew it would hurt the most, purely so that he could feel something. George had resisted at first, meeting Matty with love and care and sympathy until he eventually, as always, pushed too far and George had snapped. Matty had relished in it before, his blood pumping as he smiled cruelly, getting up in George’s face as George yelled back, giving him everything that he wanted and didn’t know how to ask for. 
Matty swallowed hard, his ankle hurt, he was pretty sure it was broken, and he didn’t want to fight anymore. 
“Not going to say anything?” George asked, his spark still burning, still pushing, looking for the same kind of weakness Matty had exploited earlier. 
Matty just shrugged again, curling in on himself. He didn’t want to fight. He wanted to apologize, he wanted to tell George he was sorry he had started a fight, that he was wrong and hadn’t meant it. He wanted to tell him he loved him, and he was hurting and that he needed him. But if he opened his mouth he was pretty sure that he was going to start crying. He was emotionally and physically worn out. He was scared and he was in pain, he just wanted George to hold him and tell him it was all going to be alright. They were supposed to be packing up and headed to their next tour stop within the hour, traveling overnight to get to the next city. There were twenty seven shows left on this leg of the tour. Matty couldn’t afford to have broken his ankle. 
“Matthew,” said George, his voice so cold, and Matty, already feeling so worn thin, couldn't help it. He opened his mouth to answer, to tell him to fuck off, to apologize, to say absolutely anything, and instead he ended up taking a shaky breath and instantly burst into tears. 
George recoiled, clearly surprised, clearly having thought that Matty was being difficult for the sake of being difficult, not that there was actually something wrong.
“Matty?” he asked cautiously, carefully, glancing around the backstage area as if he would find the cause of Matty’s tears mingling with the trunks and extension cords. “Matty love what’s wrong?” 
“I’m sorry,” Matty said with a hiccup, “I’m sorry I was being a dickhead earlier, and I’m sorry I just fucked up the tour, and I’m just I’m sorry.”
“Fucked up the tour? What are you talking about?” George asked, sitting down carefully next to Matty, gauging his reaction before cautiously wrapping an arm around his trembling shoulders. “And it’s alright, couples fight,” said George softly, pressing a kiss to the side of Matty’s head, all of the fight drained out of him. “I know we’ll get past it.”
“I think I broke my ankle,” said Matty with a sniffle, “I rolled it during the last song and I could feel something pop.” He took a shaky breath, “it really hurts.” 
George stood up, “let me take a look,” he said, moving to kneel down in front of Matty. He made the assumption that it was the left ankle bothering Matty by the cautious way he was holding his leg and reached forward to steady his foot so that he could unlace his converse sneaker. Matty, never one to handle pain well, gasped in surprise and kicked out, hitting George in the chin and causing another pulse of pain to move up his leg. 
George swore, stumbling back as he held onto his face. 
“Fuck,” said Matty with a hiccup, “fuck I’m sorry.” 
“It’s okay,” said George carefully, moving his jaw back and forth, confirming that everything was aligned correctly. He was even more careful this time, his fingers barely ghosting over Matty’s ankle as he unlaced the sneaker, then rolled up his pant leg and carefully removed his sock. He sucked in a breath, not even making a comment about how sweaty Matty had gotten, as he took in how swollen the joint was, and the purple hue that the limb had taken on. 
Matty couldn't bring himself to look at it. “How bad is it?” he asked wetly. If it looked even half as bad as it felt, he knew it wasn’t going to be good. 
“My poor baby,” said George softly, “I’m so sorry.” He paused, “I think you’re right, I think it is broken.” 
Matty just hiccuped wetly in response. 
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ashtrayfloors · 1 month
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When other people I knew in grad school read Kathy Acker’s books they were shocked. Appalled. Particularly most of the budding young feminists. I actually began weeding out women friends by their reactions to her books. The ones that smiled and lowered their eyes with sly understanding and touched themselves, I kept. The ones that freaked out, well, they were idiots. Once I read a paragraph from Empire of the Senseless in my theory of gender class and one of the women began to cry and ran out and barfed. No shit. Pussy, I thought.
—Lidia Yuknavitch, from The Chronology of Water
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kirby-the-gorb · 1 month
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agentark · 1 year
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whatever you do, don't imagine a young J Corvin waiting every day at the end of their drive, hoping today is the day the mail carrier finally brings a letter from their very best friend
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Making angst for a silly goofy fandom like tf2 is so hard because they've never been put into serious situations so everytime I write something is like:
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acowardinmordor · 9 months
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Under developed moment in Steve based loop fics for s4 is The loop restarting and him immediately decking Eddie because after a hundred loops he would have managed it if Eddie had just followed the goddamn plan.
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fatestitcherr · 2 months
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so when moshe sang
i’m in the middle of a dating nightmare, there is this girl and i am all about her, but she is a liar and im starting to doubt her
was he talking about carm? he sang it in the ‘sharing song’ in off book 109, published on 13th august 2019 - they speak about moshe and carm breaking up after being together for 4 months on 21st january 2020, so with the 5 month gap between shows it’s reasonable to assume that they dated in that break
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kavennnn · 2 months
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there's gonna be another coil ch tonight !! almost like this happens every week
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gaiaxygang · 7 months
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kanghan dangerous romance (trips and falls down the stairs)
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opens-up-4-nobody · 8 months
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...
#theres this feeling i get sometimes. i find it very hard to articulate. its part despair and part awe. dispair at how beautiful the world is#all those intricate little process coming together to organize the chaos. i dont kno y i feel it so deeply or y it hurts so much#because its just. no matters what horrible things r going on in the world. ur body is this miraculous collection of chemicals and reactions#mobile containers of water with a history that spirals back billions of years. and you can hear and see and experience and reflect#and when you die the world goes on spinning without you. if we as humans destroyed this planet past the part of our ability to inhabit it#it wouldnt even matter. there would be continued life past humanity. cosmically we r tiny and insignificant and we dont matter#but were beautiful and wonderful and infinity complex and knowing that leaves me in agony. because i want to kno everything right now but#mind is too small and i walk around with the disorientation of someone whos just been hit in thr face ans i cant focus enough to read#cant make the words make sense and i cant justify the time it would take to try. so i sit on my deck. in the sun. crying as i think about#how the light hit the grass in my front yard the last time i was home. how the cliffs in the backyard are ringed with red lines of iron#separated out as the water leached through the sandstone. how every avaliable surface is stained green as organisms reach upward toward#the sun. and its beautiful and i dont kno y im crying. maybe its bc i cant just throw everything aside and chase that feeling. im not#allowed to feel it. im not allowed to talk abt it in the way i want. bc im afraid no one cares as much as me in the same way. bc when i#talk abt what i study its obscure and academic and so far from what most ppl think abt that they get intimidated and dont try to understand#so i just try not to talk abt it. or maybe im just afraid. bc i have my 1st TA meeting tomorrow and i meet with my new advisor friday#and im worried and im afraid i wont b able to do this in a way that doesnt make me feel like im dying. bc i like to b busy and i like having#a strict schedule but if u throw me that knife im going to stab myself with it bc i dont kno how wield it as a tool without hurting myself#sure ill get the job done. but at what cost? whatever. ill try to b better this time. try to hold tight to the wonder. but that feels like#reaching out into forever. knowing ill never make contact. not knowing what im reaching for.#the closest approximation to the feeling i can find is that scene in the terror. where go0dsir is asking if god is there. any god. and it#doesnt matter bc he can see god in the landscape. in an environment that's so harsh and barren that its killing him slowly in the worst of#ways and its beautiful. its still beautiful to him. there is wonder here. and im wasting my time laying in a dark room crying bc i put#myself into a container so constrictive that the surface snaps and i come spilling out as an angry liquid. smearing away into nothing#unrelated
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useryennefer · 1 month
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Does anyone have any advice for managing sound sensitivity? Specifically chewing and general mouth/throat sounds. I'm having a really hard time handling it lately and idk what to do anymore.
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isekyaaa · 1 year
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The coolest thing about fanfiction is that you can make anything work. Nothing is too dumb or stupid or unrealistic because as long as you plot the story well enough, you have the power to make anything possible.
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kissmefriendly · 1 year
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As much as I’m truly torn up about Dracula Daily ending, I just wanna say I’m looking forward so much to people who’ve never read it before’s reactions. Raising my glass to the newbies
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daz4i · 2 months
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how to stop thinking any good thing someone says to you (like compliments or being proud of you or other positive expressions such as these) is a lie just to be polite or bc they're biased and thus can't judge you work and your being objectively bc they love you. asking for a friend
#lovebombing won't work on me i will automatically assume there is an ulterior motive there#i may be off on what it is. but i won't trust it either anyway#(joking btw ik i'm not immune to abuse tactics. that's actually part of why i'm vigilant to all that i think)#(but not only)#i think my main issue is i know in my heart these things can't be right. the bigger the compliment the less i believe it#bc i'm below average and so is anything i create. propping it (and me) up as smth unique feels disingenuous#in my heart i do want this like i wanna be told nice things but they usually make me feel worse lol#bc i still think i'm shit and now i feel like i can't trust that person either.#(still. if someone is mean to me or even just harsh instead. i will cry)#also while this is already very deep and digging into my core the next tags are gonna dig into therapy level deepness lol#i think this is actually why i only want ppl to be sexually attracted to me honestly#smth abt it being like. a physical reaction. makes it easier to believe for me#also smth you can express smth you can do to prove it beyond just saying words#(i will sometimes still doubt it when i have a steady partner of any sort lol like i'll ask if they just indulge me or actually want it)#which is why it's fucking me up sm that i'm getting uglier 🥲 i'm already not great - being trans and fat limits a lot of your options - but#things are getting even worse lol 🥲 who knew that was even possible#all this isn't really a very good base to stop hating yourself. so my self loathing is only getting worse every day#thus making any good word harder to believe. and the cycle continues#. yknow when i started typing this post i did not expect to go on for this long#i am on these sleeping pills that make me lose my filter i'm sorry 😔#vent
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sparring-spirals · 2 years
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me, watching Squak assume that touching faces of/among humans is a Big Deal and that's why there's now a rumor about him and Wanessa being involved: hahaha silly squak
me:
me: well, actually, I guess-
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munamania · 10 months
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i hate how bad a lot of parents are we NEED to kill the idea that it’s just part of life to have kids like. maybe you really shouldn’t be guiding a tiny person through life if you can’t be compassionate and gentle and understand how they develop
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