#and ever since then i’ve been having anxiety and paranoia bc

[fadingdagger]

of artemis and hera - l.w.

pairing: larissa weems x gn!reader (maybe more fem! bc r is quite maternal, but no pronoun/name/gendered term for reader)

summary: aftermath of the crackstone incident and larissa’s poisoning, from the perspective of a nevermore teacher and larissa’s spouse

warnings: angst and pain <3 but it’s all flashbacks, near death, paranoia/anxiety, hurt/comfort (emphasis on comfort)

note: title comes from mythology; artemis is considered the protectress of children, while hera is the protectress of women. also tell me that picture isn’t literally larissa and morticia

italics are flashbacks

i counted each head twice, saying their names to myself to check them off my mental list. all 30 of my students, here and accounted for. safe and alive. scanning over them once more, i could see their patience wearing thin as i took up their free time before lights-out.

“alright my little archers, be free,” i dismiss with a wave of my hand, watching as they rush off to their rooms. my heart cracking a little as i see a few look back at me, gentle smiles sent my way. i count as each one disappears into their own room or a friend’s, noting who went where as they shut their doors, knowing i would knock for lights out.

five minutes before lights out, and i have been standing here this whole time. for an hour i have stood in place, watching the hallway, listening for any cries of help. none ever came, just like every other night before this one. slowly, i force myself to move, knocking on each door twice, “lights out.”

once the children of apollo hall were safely tucked away into their rooms, i slowly made my way back to my shared quarters. once in the room, i lean against the door, tucking my hand behind myself to lock it. a deep breath leaves my lungs, the tension in my shoulders lessens slightly. every night was like this. ever since the night marilyn reanimated crackstone, when they both had attacked my children, the same night she drove a syringe of nightshade into larissa’s neck.

the children were crying, running, screaming. my babies, my sweet babies. fire scorched the lawns and trees, the banners hanging from the walls becoming ash within seconds. sprinting through the halls, i watched older students and teachers leading others out, some of my own students yelling my name as they passed me. i was frantic, checking every room to leave no child behind, i could never live with myself if i lost one of my children. finding no one in ophelia or apollo hall, i finally process what, rather who, had been missing.

larissa.

she wasn’t with the other teachers. she hadn’t been in the quad, or in any of the halls. i needed to see her, i need to hold her, i needed her. i saw coach vlad and ran to him, dodging children as i moved, “have you seen larissa?! where’s larissa?!” i yelled over the rampage, but he only shook his head.

turning away from him, i begin running outside in hopes larissa is elsewhere. on my way i see jia, a young vampire from my hall, and without hesitation i grab her arm and pull her with me. i see a group of students heading towards the gates. lowering myself to her eye level, i cup her cheek and say, “go with them, stay together and stay safe, okay?” she nods and sprints to the others.

running back toward the school, i begin to go to the only place i hadn’t checked, the conservatory. this was my last chance, the only place she could be. i picked up my pace, running as fast as i possibly could, skipping over steps as i barreled to my destination. opening the door, i see that the room is empty, messy, but empty. i step in further, as i do i hear a faint gasp. turning my head towards the sound, i see a grey sleeve and a pale hand. the very hand i’ve held, the very hand with a ring matching my own.

dropping to the floor beside her, i place my hands on her neck, “larissa, i’m here sweetheart,” her eyes hold terror, “baby, you have to stay with me, okay? you have to keep looking at me with your beautiful eyes, and never stop, okay?” she only blinks rapidly, her breathing ragged. i don’t remember screaming for help, or the paramedics pulling me away, or my hitting of the paramedics as the tried to take her away from me, but i was filled in later on, finally understanding the bruises on hands and arms.

the next week had been spent without a wink of sleep, sitting in a stiff hospital chair next to larissa’s bedside. the antidote for the poison had been locked away in the botanical storages, hidden, but easy to find if marilyn had needed it. by the time they had found the antidote, larissa’s heart had already stopped twice.

forced to endure a week of waiting for her to either come back to or leave me, i found myself thinking about the latter. what would i do? what sort of life could i live without her? would that even be a life? thoughts of a life without her consumed me from the inside out, it wasn’t until i heard a raspy, sore groan.

every thought left my mind other than one, her. i was up and by her side before she had even opened her eyes. i stayed silent and still, watching as her face contorted from the brightness. her eyes opened, darting around the ceiling as she regained her bearings. she turns her head in my direction, looking at me so softly, so much pain in her eyes, and i just can’t stand it. tears fall freely, she was breathing, blinking, her heart was beating.

“no, no,” her voice was so weak, barely perceptible. her soft hand rises to my cheek, thumb wiping my tears. she breathes deeply and clears her throat, “don’t cry.”

“they’re happy tears, baby. don’t worry about me. you’re alive. you’re safe. everything is okay now,” my words, though directed towards her, were just as much for me. as long as her heart is beating, everything is okay.

all these months later, and the fear still lingered. a pattern had developed. every night, an hour before lights out, dorm parents were to do a head count, then send students to bed. five minutes before lights out, a reminder. the time between usually was once spent grading, but now i stayed at my post. guarding the hallways from invisible, intangible enemies. enemies made from my fear and anxiety.

“darling, that you?” a voice of honey spoke from the bedroom, soothing me further, bringing me in.

“nope, total stranger,” i reply as i walk up behind her, bringing my hand around to tilt her chin up. now with her beautiful face looking at me, i place a gentle kiss to her lips as she chuckled at my quip. she was sat at her vanity, hair already released from its style, gently removing her makeup from the day. as i sat on the bed, i could only watch in adoration as she followed her routine.

“you were gone for quite some time, was something wrong?” she asked me, looking at me through the mirror. i only shook my head in response. “were you just guarding the hallway again?” i nodded. “the whole hour?” another nod.

she had grown used to this answer. most nights i would return between the count and final warning, but some nights, i stood like a statue guarding the children. she knew if i could, i would individually tuck in each and every nevermore student and read them a story if it meant they slept knowing they were cared for.

when larissa had been cleared from the hospital, all she wanted was to sleep and be held, and i was more than happy to oblige. every night i held her as if she could disappear at any moment, like she’d evaporate or i would wake up and it was all a cruel dream. holding her as she fell asleep, i lay soft kisses against her shoulder and neck, whispering to her all the love in my heart. i often didn’t sleep more than a couple hours each night, giving into my dreams just before sunrise, waking when larissa’s alarm rang. protecting the children was my sworn duty, but protecting larissa, my sun, moon, and stars, that was everything.

“sweetheart,” she turns in her seat to face me, hands on her knees, “i know you’re not sleeping, and all this time you could be resting, you’re standing guard.”

“riss, i’m fine. i just need to make sure they’re safe,” my voice cracks, just in the slightest. she notices. “and to make sure you’re safe,” her face falls.

she comes closer, crouching before me. her warm hands on my knees help ground me, “i’m right here, i’m safe.” that’s what we thought before, i want to say, and she knows. she always knows what i’m going to say. “nothing, and i mean nothing, will ever take me away from you. come hell or high water, i’m staying right by your side. i meant it at that nasty motel in burlington,” i huff a laugh at the memory, “i meant it at the alter, and i mean it now. and no one will ever harm the children, ever. they are safe, angel. so am i. you can rest.”

my forehead drops to hers, my eyes closing, “i’ll always protect you. i promised you that at the alter, and i meant it. you are everything, larissa.” her lips find my cheek, lingering there.

“you can’t protect me, or them, if you’re exhausted. you love them and me so much, we all know that my love. but we all love you too, and i don’t think any of us want to watch you destroy yourself. not even if it’s in good faith.”

i groan and drop my head to her shoulder, pressing my face into her neck, “why are you always right?”

she laughs as her hands slide up my thighs, gripping lightly, “i’m not, i’m just telling you the truth. you are so loved by the students. even more loved by me. if you think i’d let you hurt yourself like this, you have me confused with someone else entirely.”

i lift my face from her neck, looking her in the eyes now. eyes that had always help safety and warmth in them, despite the icy blue. my hands moved to her hair, loose from pins now, i lazily twirl the soft hair around my fingers. she’s so soft, everything about her. her eyes, her hair, her voice, just her. the way she looked at me, never harsh, never with disgust or hate, something i hadn’t experienced before her. the way she held me was even sweeter, her hold was never overbearing or painful, only gentle and grounding. i loved her, and she loved me.

“shall we retire for the night?” she whispers, as if to not interrupt by thoughts. i only nod, not wanting to break this precious moment, a moment filled with only her. larissa moves away to let me stand from the bed and change, as she leaves to the bathroom. once in old sleep shorts and oversized t-shirt, i follow my beloved. she hands me my toothbrush, toothpaste already applied. i brush my teeth as she stands behind me, smoothing my hair, gently detangling any knots with nimble fingers.

back in the bedroom, i race ahead of her and jump onto the bed. i lay flat on my back, arms and legs out like a starfish, making grabby hands towards my wife.

“i am not do-”

“yes you are.”

“absolutely no-”

“larissa.”

she sighs, accepting defeat. she slides off her slippers, and crawls onto the bed, and lays down on top of me. my legs and arms wrap around her immediately, like a loving venus flytrap. she always found it weird that i liked holding her like this, but there was something so peaceful in the way she surrounded me. the feel of her, the way she smells, her heart beating with mine, the weight of her against me.

“do you hate being able to breathe or something?” she mumbles from her spot under my jaw. i laugh, massaging her scalp with my fingers.

“no, but i do hate being far from you, this is about as close as it gets,” i feel her lips press against my neck, “don’t be a perv,” she laughs.

i bring a hand up, tucking hair of moonstone and jasmine behind her ear, tracing her jaw. she sits up suddenly, startling me a bit. one had holds her above me, the other lays in the middle of my chest.

“i love you. please, for the love of the gods, just take care of yourself too,” she pats my chest between each word at the end.

“i will, but i’ll always take care of you first,” i pull her back down to me, already saddened by the distance between us, “i love you.”

she presses a kiss to my jaw, stretching up to catch my lips. my hands fly to her neck, pulling her closer, needing her closer. her arms holds her up again, her free hand holding my waist tightly. her lips glide with mine, all of our love for each other being pour into the kiss. my tongue slides over her lip, and she’s quick to let me in, but she’s not quick to give control. she pulls back, taking my bottom lip between her teeth. she comes back to my lips, and places a long, sound kiss on them, making me whine. she nuzzles her nose against my cheek, pressing a soft kiss there, before taking residence in the crook of my neck again.

“go to sleep, i’ll still be right here in the morning.”

“don’t threaten me with a good time,” tiredness flowed through my voice, sleep easily taking over in my comfort with her.

“you are unbelievable,” she grumbles, “go to sleep, please,” she finishes her demand with a wet kiss to my neck.

“anything for you.”

i’m not sure i like this one much, i spent a long time on it, probably way too much. mostly bc i like to add A Lot of details and i had to go back and dial that shit back lol.

feedback is appreciated <3

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems fluff #larissa weems fanfic #larissa weems #gwendoline christie #brienne of tarth #lucifer morningstar #wednesday fanfic #wednesday netflix

[mrm-pachypodalt]

Vent under the cut. If I don’t post it then I think my brain will cease function but don’t read it ok. It’s general nonsense so don’t worry about it.

I WANT TO FUCKING EXPLODE

I HATE MY ABANDONMENT ISSUES BRO I WISH IT COULD STOP. I WISH IT ALL COULD STOP. JUST. WAUGHHHHH FUCKING HELL AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Ok. Ok. I’m sorry. It’s just. Partner is. Not good at communicating. I have separation anxiety. Stems from fully thinking that my mother was dead for a year because she simply was gone and never texted back etc. I hate that I had to get capital I Issues™️ from that experience because it’s one of my many horrible qualities.

Anyway. I’m trying to organize anything with this man. And gods, I love him I want to shout it from the rooftops. But. He can’t text back for the fuckign life of him. And this is important and time sensitive planning bc it involves a third party!!!! But he just. Doesn’t fugking read any of my messages. And gods I miss him and want to hold him and I want, nay need to tell him about how. How this type of situation feels like fumcking shit, ya know?

And I would talk to a therapist, if I had one. I would talk with a friend about it if I wouldn’t feel more like a burden about it than I already do. I’m convinced all my friends fucking hate me, man. I feel like I’m just upsetting to them. By existing. How do I know this? Definitely paranoia. Definitely the immense, deep-rooted self hatred that I’ve felt for myself ever since I could remember.

I’m failing all of my classes. I’m in college. I can’t afford to fail. I. I can’t.

I have this one friend. Who is. Succeeding in every level that I don’t. Has reached that level in the social media art world where their work is found everywhere. And I’m so, so proud of them. Genuinely, I really, truly am. But. I envy them. So much. I wish I had their drive. Their ability to actually make anything. The ability to post art without fear of rejection consuming them.

Doesn’t help that my entire sense of self-worth has been directly tied to my ability to “make cool art” and “sing nicely” for almost a decade of being alive on this fucking earth.

I’m so tired. I’m so fucking tired.

And it doesn’t help that I can’t bring myself to tell anyone. Especially since I have nothing to offer to make up for it (what is ‘it,’ though? Venting, having emotions, existing?) I can’t be sad. I’m not allowed to be. I don’t have anything to offer in return other than tears.

I promised my partner that I wouldn’t cut myself anymore, but it’s so hard. Why is it so hard to abstain from self-harm? I’m sticking to writing on my arm, instead. The sting from the ink seeping into skin kind of helps. But it’s not enough.

It’s fine. I’m fine.

#personal vent #minor suicidal ideation #but it’s fine. I’m fine. #just needed to scream where people could see it but probably won’t anyhow #don’t read it. please.

[apocalypsebutch]

.

#i saw a stupid video on facebook that was like #‘fully vaccinated people in 5 years:’ #and it was a dumb video showing like the mutations ppl would have #like moderna had a third eye and pfizer had a tail or some shit #and then they were like ‘LOOK OUT HERE COMES J&J’ #and the dude was zombie-esque running at them #and ever since then i’ve been having anxiety and paranoia bc #that’s the one i got #and now my brains like ‘what if u made a horrible choice’ #‘what if u end up d*ing in the future bc of it’ #it’s so stupid dhdkdjd but like. i can’t stop worrying about it #so to whoever made that video: i wish u a very pleasant fuck u #personal

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Very soon headed to baby's first apartment and cutting my family off as well and am just. having a lot of thoughts about identity today

Tw: vent? and mentions of implied abuse

I'm holding onto one specific thing and it does feel personal, so I guess that's why it's at the forefront of my mind but like. So I'm making those vo.caloid playlists, and I'm stacking in the miku music, and it feels like I'm having a 2nd vo.caloid phase, and it's great! The first time I really had a whole vo.caloid phase was when I was maybe. 13 or 14 or so, and I'm not gonna lie, it was a very difficult time for me, definitely when I was beginning to come to terms with how my family was treating me. This music was here during everything that happened, and it's still here in the aftermath, still unchanged. It's something I've always loved, but I know my family would never touch it, they didn't like it, my father told me, when I was 13ish, he asked "why can't you like anything normal". It's so surreal, to see it all still here and especially to have become mainstream, something I was absolutely bullied and mocked for becoming mainstream. 13 year old me would've cried in joy. I think it absolutely is a part of who I am.

I don't think I was ever really allowed to express or have much of an identity. I didn't know I had adhd until I was 17 and found out on my own, the first words out of my mouth were "oh my god, I'm not stupid", and my family would never have considered any neurodivergence, all kids are hyperactive, this is just a fake condition so bad parents parents narc up their kids! Not that there's anything more to the condition, not that it plagued me all my life and nearly ended it when I couldn't figure out what was wrong while no one bothered to help me. I stayed closeted as a trans person for 7 years bc I knew what the repercussions would be if I came out, and when I finally did that 2ish months ago, it played out exactly as I expected it to.

The most work I'd ever gotten done with my health was when I sat down and started scheduling my own appointments, with no vehicle or license and calling the insurance to see what we even had bc no one knew. My headaches went untreated for years, no one ever turned the sound of the tv down when I had my first migraine, I got c.ovid and was told I didn't, it was a false positive, had symptoms for 10 weeks and was told it was just the flu, but got vaccinated and "you already had covid, you don't need the vaccine". The anxiety and stress played and continue to play hell with my health, but those always pass, those always get better.

I just never had a place to really openly talk about myself and how I felt and who I actually am and now that I have a chance and time to finally pull it all together I just. feel overwhelmed? I alnost feel like I simultaneously do and don't know who I am. Yes the trauma stunted me psychologically and yes I've been in therapy for a few years because of this. I don't feel prepared for picking up a job and just making things work. I have the money to be able to just pay some rent for some time, but the idea of walking out of all these years and then just stepping directly into actual adulthood like nothing happened makes me. All I've ever done is mask everything and bow my head in obedience and now I feel like I'm back to doing what I did to protect myself bc being openly trans or clearly nd isn't something that's accepted everywhere. I feel like I just wanna make something of myself after all this but I just don't know what to do. I'm only 22, I have so much time and a lot of people say that they'd never wanna be in their 20s again but.

I feel like I've been left with everything and nothing. I know what I'm doing but I don't. I was never my family's priority, I was the trophy kid who got praised for achievement and any deviation from that was punished, anything abnormal like my mental health and the like went under the rug. I'm tired and jittery from nerves, wherever I end up I just wanna be happy, that's where the bar is. I also want my stuff back since I had to leave in a rush and couldn't grab everything. I'll be called a liar, selfish, every name in the book when I do go back to get my things, when I do cut my family off and let them know why I left and what I felt, and I know it isn't true but. I feel like I'm sifting through rubble and trying to piece together what's even left. I was pushed to and beyond my limits and I shattered in the process and had to rebuild myself from the ground up, and I suppose with all the upheaval that it's still a work in progress. The stress and anxiety was all manageable until it started having physical effects on me and now it's starting to click as to how bad it was and for how long I kept it up, and now that it's no longer serving a purpose, it comes and goes in waves.

I feel like I'm trying to reclaim something I never even had to begin with. I was whatever my family wanted me to be, and now that I've gotten up and left, I feel like I'm still testing waters. I feel like I don't know how to put myself and my feelings first, since that was never an option before, even while getting to my current location, of the people who'd driven me asked how I felt about making the trip and I said that if he was okay with it then it would be fine and he immediately spun it back on me, I didn't answer, I didn't say how I felt about it, even the family I'm with now noting that I don't seem very assertive, I just. have so much work to do but feel like I don't have the time to be able to do it all before I have to pretend I'm put together enough. I don't know. I feel like I do. I want to be a cheerful person, cynicism doesn't mean maturity and all that, but there's still the terror of the joy meaning that I'm ignoring something important or that I should be focusing on something that needs work, though i suppose not feeling like I can be happy is just another mark of trauma. I'm just upset and angry and every second chance I gave my family was another knife they stuck in my back, I only have like 1/3 of my belongings that I want, my family only ever cared about control to the point of paranoia, the latter of which was also handed to me. I just.

I just want this to be over

#sitting there about to lose it like boy sure hope no one sees me tearing up while playing fucking *solitaire* on my laptop #i have a lot i need to unpack and im gonna have to switch to a new therapist soon so. #gotta prep a damn powerpoint of my experiences and hand it to em i suppose lmao #i try to be an upbeat person; nay; i *want* to be that way; there is just. a lot going on right now h a h a #i am not proofreading a single thing i put down #if you read the whole thing then i am signing our marriage certificates right now as we speak #hoatm rants

[shakaxmoon]

finally got a tablet for drawing!!!

...and i’m already doubting if it was a good decision.

no seriously, my anxiety and ocd + perfectionist tendencies are making me doubt everything at the moment. the minute i got the bag in my hands, i looked to my right and i saw a stand full of wacom tablets, which triggered the paranoia about whether or not the tablet was the best choice after all. (is there a name for this?)

my friend has always advised me that since i like doodling on the go so much, a tablet is a better idea than a graphic table which is like, okay, a very valid point! but also the tablet seems to come with more responsibility, more possibilities for things to do and honestly? I just feel super guilty for buying a tablet AGAIN. 7 years ago my parents got me an ipad mini for xmas, which was super cool of them, but alas it was not compatible with pens so I couldn’t draw in it (at least I think you can’t...). And then 4 years later I broke the screen due to some stupid shenanigans. since thenm my friend has been helping me decide what I should buy next or even if I should buy anything at all. I feel super guilty for breaking it, it doesn’t matter if it happens to a lot of people, it doesn’t matter if I probably have adhd (or at least I know I’m scatterbrained af), my mom always told me it was my fault and makes it sound like the end of the world. personally i like to feel like it’s not productive to instill such feelings of guilt on anyone, ever, but whatever. just have to accept her the way she is and try to protect my peace of mind at the same time. she did pay for it after all, since I don’t have a job, so you see how the guilt multiplies and eats me alive. 

on one hand, it feels great to have someone in my life who knows what I’m like and who sees I like drawing and encourages it. she’s known me for over a decade and I’ve always liked drawing since I was a child, but I made a terrible decision in 2010 from which it took me, apparently, 12 years to recover from. (I bought a terrible, terrible graphic table for cheap bc it was all I could afford and honestly I had no idea what I was doing). then I got a laptop and I installed it there and yeah it worked I guess, but drawing on that thing was so frustrating that I just gave up and moved to traditional. Even then, I know I’m not good enough in traditional art to make it. honestly, it sucks. I’m a quick doodler more than a full-fledged artist. Trying to work on it. should I even, at this point? sigh.

anyway, all of this to say that I got my hands on the samsung s6 lite tablet, at last, which was sth I’d been wishing for for the past 2 or 3 months, intermittently for years, so maybe I should try to actually enjoy it instead of letting guilt corrode everything. as it usually does.

expect more drawing from me in the future, don’t expect good quality, but do expect some stuff, yes. and I’m eager to learn how to paint digitally again, this time with a device that doesn’t seem to be up against me. 

#lo is a baka #luigi rants

[onedivinemisfit]

I’m thinking about bringing up my fatigue/fainting with my doctor.

But at the same time I’m terrified I’ll be blown off.

Like for one, I had surgery three months ago. It’s my paranoia speaking but I can’t stop thinking that my GP will just, tell me it’s bc I’m not recovered yet, or use the fact that I can’t eat like I used to as a sort of “this will pass when you increase your food intake” or something.

It’s lasted so long tho. I can’t remember ever being energetic. And sometime around 16, I started... to faint? Almost. If I strained myself. Something as simple as taking a shower in the morning couldn’t be done cuz I’d end up with black spots and fading vision and I’d slump to my knees and struggle my way to the kitchen to eat/drink something with sugar in it.

Low blood sugar, I called it for a while. Then low blood pressure. Idk I never got it verified cuz nobody believed me?

I rarely faint “completely” if that makes sense. My mind fades for a moment as if it feels like my entire self becomes so. Heavy. I can’t stand up. And it’s nauseating to keep my head up. I can’t hear anything aside from my own pulse, and I struggle to focus.

I decided to get into exercise, thinking it was probably a result of my chronic pain and lack of moving around. Lazy, as they call it.

I didn’t even succeed in exercising with a trainer. 50% of the time I had to stop mid-session bc my mind was spinning and once I even fell to my knees and barely got back up. It’s such a defeated feeling. My mind supplies me with these ugly thoughts. “How pitiful, she’s too lazy to even exercise”.

I wish I could! I want to improve my condition! But I faint just moving from one room to another! The fuck can I do. It’s gotten worse. It happens almost daily? I should be young and bouncy, but I never was. But somehow my every lack of energy had always been “explained” by something else.

Then there’s my heart. I am scared shitless just talking about my heart. Since I was a teen, I’ve said something is wrong with my pulse, my blood pressure, just *something*. I can feel it. My heart keeps skipping beats, it keeps having palpitations (sometimes to the point of pain) and my resting pulse just... doesn’t rest.

At 20, I mentioned my irregular pulse to my then-GP. “It’s no use even listening to you, I won’t hear any irregularities you’re too young,”

I charted my heart palpitations up to anxiety. Afterall anxiety is more relatable, easier to explain than just. I’m relaxed but my heart is beating a mile a minute and no I don’t understand it either...

My father had a cardiac arrest. Then he was diagnosed with heart valve dysfunction. Then all his siblings followed suit. My aunt had to change her valve. It’s genetically disposed, my grandfather being the source. But they won’t start testing the next generation until they hit their 40s.

Did you know that my GP(s) didn’t even care?

Even the last time I went, earlier this month, my GP noted that my readings were “strange” but she wouldn’t respond when I asked if we should monitor my situation? My first blood pressure reading was medium-high. The next was normal. The third spiked like crazy for no reason. My pulse was also high.

“Is it bc you are anxious?” She asks me. How tf should I know??

I’m scared. Scared of looking into this. Scared of what could happen if I don’t. Scared that I’ll be called a hypochondriac, cuz that’s happened too (said directly to my face by my then-GP no less, tho for another reason)

I really just want to stop blacking out “for no reason.” ;;

#tw: medical #tw: anxiety #text post #about me #I just #really needed to summarize all these #related worries?? #in a single space #I need to know that I AM making SENSE #There is SOMETHING OFF #I’m not hallucinating #I just want to function better have more quality of life #but to do that I need more shit checked and getting to that point #has always been an uphill years long battle... #and I need to know I can do it one more time

[scarlethallow160]

as someone who was repeatedly on the receiving end of being used as an outlet by ex-friends talking about their love lives Constantly i refuse to subject anyone else to that

but i will also put a one-time cringefilled rambling post out

it has literally been so long since ive liked someone? the last person i “liked” was the only guy in my painting class i think like my freshman or sophomore year of college, and even then i just thought he was nice and like.....one of the hottest guys i’ve ever seen irl so i didnt technically like-like him bc we also barely interacted

but this is....different. i think he’s only been here like a month now? close to it? this was before my promotion so i didnt rly have to go out of my way to talk to anyone, so anytime someone starts chatting with me first at work i get pleasantly surprised, and hes pretty quiet so i was just like oh a nice new work acquaintance person to talk to at work?? when he’d occasionally talk to me (at my job sometimes even when ur working the same or similar shifts u may not ever see people lol). i’ve seen him talking with some other rly nice dudes at work i consider my work-friends so i thought maybe they mentioned me to him as one of the cool ppl at work and thats why he felt comfortable enough to start talking to me?

idk so whenever i’d see his name in the dash i’d be like oh cool x is here but again sometimes we’d rarely see each other cuz thats just how it is at work....but it is EXTREMELYYY rare that anyone shows any romantic interest in me--bc i was Absolutely the person assholes asked out as a joke in school--or any sort of interest really? so anytime someone (mostly guys if im being honest bc despite being queer, my brain can still be stuck in heteronormative ways....) goes out of their way to talk to me/be nice, i get like a little spasm in my brain?? and get a mixture of paranoia and anxiety thinking things like hm why are they talking to me? why are they being nice to me? are they just nice or do they like me/want something from me? shit like that. so whenever he’d talk to me i’d be like hmmmmmm why tho bc i overthink literally everything

and then one afternoon i was by myself finishing bagging my cart, and he was off already but when he walked past he was like “have a nice afternoon :)“ and i was like omg thanks u too?? bc even tho there are ppl i talk with at work, we dont usually say anything to each other when we pass in the store lol

i dont think me n the guy saw each other much after that or that thing happened where he’d be busy shopping and i’d be stuck in the box for us to interact much (and i also missed like three days a couple days ago from being really sick lmao) so yesterday when i saw we basically had almost the same shift cuz he was the 10pm and i was the closing specialist, i got happy bc initially i was like oh nice, one of the nice acquaintance ppl i talk to is here

but yesterday was a fucking shitshow and we were SO busy and honestly it was super disappointing cuz normally for closing shifts it gets chill and me and the other work ppl just relax and chat until closing so i was hoping that would happen but it didnt....and hes again pretty quiet so i cant tell if at times maybe hes too tired from the work to want to talk so i also dont want to bug him by trying to chat him up? but there was actually some moments that got chill where we were able to chat, and ive been wearing my dgd hat to work and it says their name on the back of it, and he saw it and asked if i listened to them and i was like !!!! bc ppl rarely have heard of them so i was kinda like oh shit wow hes actually heard of them and he mentioned that he i think listened to them in back high school?

(which.........if im being honest was kind of a relief to hear cuz that means hes not underage. but hopefully he’s like 20 or older bc i will feel shitty if i ended up liking a 19yearold without realizing it lmaooo and also at work its at the point where u literally cant tell how old some ppl are now)

but he mentioned he preferred another band i’d heard of in passing lol but then also i happened to look at him when his mask was kind of off, and i’d alrdy seen him without his mask before, but in that moment my brain spasm made me think ummm he kinda hot tho? and thats when i came to my extremely unfortunate realization.

and today his shift didnt start til much later, so technically if i had left my shift on time i wouldve seen him Maybe for an hour at most, but we were also rly fuckin busy today so i stayed a couple hours extra to help...and it fucking sucks now cuz anytime i saw him in the store, the monkey part of my brain would have that little spasm. and like...again i dont want to go out of my way to talk to him bc hes kinda hard to read on his mood but i also? Do want to talk to him when i can?? but at the same time i dont want to get my hopes up cuz ive literally never dated anyone before, and now that im a specialist and have like the tiniest bit of authority over the regular partners, id be worried if dating would even be allowed cuz we work in the same department, BUT AGAIN even thinking that is me getting my hopes up which i rly do not want to do.

this is so so so fucking stupid and cringey and embarrassing but even if nothing happens i kind of look forward now to seeing if we’ll have intersecting shifts? so in a weird cringey way i get kind of excited about future shifts and working now???

im trying to look on the bright side of things even if nothing happens lmaoaoao part of me also kind of wants to mention this to my friends who also work with me in case they....happen to hear of anything.....but at the same time i dont want them to see me talking to him/sending him out to shop knowing that i like him???

idk idk idk rambling about this shit helps even tho i also dont want anyone to see this and see how lame i’m being :))))))) this is literally such an unexpected turn of events. theres a guy in the produce department who made it clear he likes me but makes me uncomfortable (and also annoys me when he constantly tries to talk to me, tbh, hence my reservations abt wanting to talk to The Guy) with how....strong he comes on, and im like.........if someone were to like me could i pls change who it is hahahahhahahahah

things have been tough as of late so at least this is a Distraction?

it’s also a fucking sick joke bc our store puts out announcements congratulating the employees if they first started, if it’s their work anniversary, or their birthday, etc. and i saw one for The Guy last month bc he has the same birthday as my super shitty ex-friend/roommate lollllllllll

#i need to undergo electroshock therapy #i feel like im very rational and normal around him #but i still think the second my brain wants to have another spasm i should be electrocuted

[dogsuffrage]

I don’t really want to talk about my feelings anymore because no one cares. And like I have no one in my life I talk to about my feelings anymore. I’m scared to get close to anyone because everyone I get close to abandons me. And I know that somehow it’s my fault so don’t come for me. I know that it is my fault I’m unloved but I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. I know it has to do with being mentally ill and having ADHD but I’ve gotten pretty good at controlling it but I still get paranoia and anxiety and I cannot control that but I can control how I convey the feelings. I’ve gotten so much better over the years but it’s never good enough. No one ever loves me enough to help me learn what I’m doing wrong and be patient. Something about me always makes people want to leave me. And it’s all my fault but I have tried everything to be better. I’m so embarrassed to say this. No one cares anymore. I haven’t even been swiping on dating apps bc I know how it ends. With them thinking I’m a nuisance. Everyone else seems to be finding their happiness and finding love but I’m miserable. The only way I can even suppress the suicidal thoughts is to ignore everything wrong and feel nothing. And lately I’ve found myself to be very hateful of other people. Which on some level I think we all have experienced since we saw how the majority of people do not give a shit about anyone else and won’t even wear a fucking mask correctly. It’s all made me so negative and made me think most people aren’t worth talking to because people are evil. Which I don’t want to believe and I didn’t use to believe that but how else can I rationalize all the hurt people have caused me. It feels like goodness is so rare but I know it exists and everyone has some of it but fuck. And also I get so angry that everyone else is in love n shit. I’m so bitter and I don’t want to be. And I feel like a prick for even saying this but why lie. I can’t choose how I feel. Anyway. Guess I’ll be sad for a bit then go back to ignoring everything.

[orionwhispers]

Perfect Places // Steve Harrington

(A/N - yep. this isnt peaky, i know. im taking a little breather so i dont completely burn out writing tommy, but trust me i have 3 wips for him coming soon!! i dont know if any of you guys will like this bc its stranger things and thats ok!! i just had a blast writing it and i love steve and it really challenged me. pls let me know if u like it!! stay safe my loves xxx)

warnings - angst but also so much fluff your teeth will rot 

You felt like the moon was mocking you.

It loomed overhead, round and full and beautiful, the colour of purity and innocence, a beacon of light contrasting against the ink coloured sky. Your face was red hot, streaked with tears that dripped down your nose and collarbone and into your shirt, staining you with sadness that you could feel clawing under your skin.

You were sat on the Byers’ front porch, the sneakers you had once kept so pristinely clean were now caked in mud, your socks soaked through. You felt numb, you ached for something; a familiar lash of anger or heartache, anything to make you feel human again, but you just felt numb.

You could hear clattering from inside the house, low murmurs of voices and whispers tangling together, but you blocked them out like it was just white noise. The steady hum of those you loved and trusted brought some comfort, but that was instantly replaced by longing for the one person who deserved to be there, the person who deserved to still be alive.

You had been ecstatically high on adrenaline, you were terrified but vivacious as you helped bundle your boyfriend and the kids into Hoppers’ car as he raced past the Laboratory’s gates. You remembered the feeling of Steve’s hands around your waist as he pushed you into the back, flustered and protective, determined to get you away from any danger.

You should have said something.

You knew something was wrong, but you kept quiet. The air in the car was thick and dense like smoke, and Hopper was covered in crimson coloured splotches, you noticed the way he didn’t look at you, instead keeping his eyes focused on the road ahead. You should have said something, should have asked where your Uncle was, should have demanded an answer, but instead you pushed those thoughts away and watched the road through the windshield until your vision went blurry, Steve’s thumb soothingly rubbing over the top of your hand.

You knew he felt it too.

It was only when you reached the driveway of the Byers bungalow, feet moving on autopilot, tearing through the front door and seeing Joyce waiting for you, tears running down her face as she pulled you into her chest, did you realise the immensity of the situation. You let out a wail that could rival a demogorgon, sinking down into the coarse fabric of her hospital gown, her hands clambering across your frame, desperate to offer any comfort she could.

Steve was beside you in an instant, gripping your elbows to stop you falling onto your knees and onto the shag carpet, cradling you into him like a child. He felt so helpless, not knowing how to ease your pain, words getting stuck in his throat like cotton balls as he watched the girl he loved shatter into pieces. One look at his familiar face contorted in torment and it set you off again, coughing and spluttering like you were drowning in your tears. You pushed the consolatory hands off of you harder than you had intended, feeling suffocated and in desperate need of some form of relief. You were no good to anybody like this, you needed to wallow in your grief alone, Joyce had bigger problems and you refused to drag her down under with you.

You stumbled towards the front door, murmuring “I need some air.” You sank into the darkness like it was an old friend, wrapping your arms around yourself as your head throbbed and pulsed. You let the cold air hit your bare skin and fell to the ground, knees to your chest and silent screams leaving your throat.

Steve ran forward to be by your side, but Hopper pulled him back by the hood of his jacket, a large hand consoling your distraught boyfriend, “Let her go kid, give her a minute.”

He gave you five.

Watching the hands tick away meticulously on the clock above the fridge, he flexed his fingers and allowed the slow and steady noises to keep him grounded. He loathed the idea that you were outside alone, beautiful face covered in tears, heartbroken and shattered. Not only that but the knowledge that those things could be looming in the woods waiting to sink their teeth into you was driving him mad with paranoia. The only thing stopping him from pulling you inside where he could safely watch you was the unwavering concern that not letting you grieve would do more harm than good, so he settled for watching you through the window, hands clamped around his trusty bat - just in case.

————————————————————

You were sure you had run out of tears. Exhausted and dehydrated, you buried your head in the palm of your hands, desperate to stop the mind numbing pain at the back of your skull. The trees rustled gently, olive coloured leaves glinting under the stars. You wondered what could be lurking inside of the forest, but you were too drained to care.

You heard the door creak behind you, but relaxed at the familiar weight of Cortez’s against the soft wood.

“Hey.” His voice was soft, almost timid. Sounding so foreign coming from his mouth, so cautious and kind that it almost made you start crying all over again. He paused momentarily, before inhaling and sitting down beside you, his long legs awkwardly bent, his back starting to ache, but he couldn’t care less. You both sat in a comfortable silence for a minute, unsure how to break down the barrier that was forming between you. Your hazy eyes lingered on the T-shirt’s and sweaters dangling from the Boyce’s washing line, sleeves swaying with the movement of the wind, almost as if there was an invisible person dancing inside.

Steve was the first to break the silence. He usually was, his quick wit and smooth demeanour had been one of the reasons you had fallen for him in the first place, the only person you had ever met that could make you melt into a puddle and then cry with laughter with just a few sentences.

“How you holding up?” He faltered, picking angrily at a loose thread hanging from his denim jeans. “That was a stupid question, I’m sorry.”

You didn’t trust yourself to form words just yet, but you tilted your head as much as you could muster, communicating with your boyfriend in that nauseating way that only the both of you understood, except this time it felt sour instead of sickeningly sweet.

You crunched a stray leaf under your shoe, mulling over the sound as it tore under your heel. “It doesn’t feel real.” You muttered finally, biting your lower lip with your front teeth, letting the pain stop your tears. “I keep expecting to see his face, his stupid goofy grin.” You smiled gently, “I keep waiting for him to turn up and say it’s all a prank, but I know he won’t, he’s too kind for that.”

“He was the nicest person I’ve ever met.” Steve said truthfully, “He was a good guy.”

Was. Three words that swam around your head and tangled your stomach into knots and you choked on the thickness in your throat. The strangled groan was so heartbreaking that Steve wanted to tear apart the things that did this to you with his bare hands, but instead he pulled you closer with them, clasping you against his chest.

He let you cry, he let you ruin his t-shirt and cover him in your mascara and wet, hot tears. He would let you bawl into everything he owned, even his prized The Clash shirt or limited edition Charlies Angels sweater that was buried in the back of his wardrobe - he would give it all to you, to stain and rip and ruin, if it meant you had at least one moment of solace.

Under the beautiful navy sky littered with stars, Steve sighed, wishing he knew what to say. He wished that he was as articulate as Nancy, or as strong as Hopper, he’d even take being as soft spoken as Jonathon, if he knew it would make you feel better. But you hadn’t fallen in love with any of them, you had fallen in love with him and he was going to do everything in his power to try and make his girl hurt a little less. So he tried to distract you.

“Do you remember our first date?” He said, breaking the silence, his eyes focusing on the branches of a tree swaying in the distance.

He heard you sniffle, felt the rise of your head under the palm of his hands. If you were surprised by his question you didn’t show it. “How could I forget?”

He smiled, thinking back to the day, over two years ago. If he thought hard enough he could almost relive the gut twisting anxiety and the sweat pooling on the nape of his neck as he pulled up to your house. The two of you had been friends forever, bound since the day you both shared peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in the playhouse in kindergarten. But you both started naturally drifting apart around the end of middle school, settling onto different paths as you grew up, only really seeing each other in the hallways or at the back of the school bus.

By the time you both entered high school, Steve was completely swept up with basketball and his newfound popularity, and you were settling into your own friendships and trying to stay on top of your grades. You rarely saw one another, but by chance the two of you were paired as lab partners one semester in sophomore year, and soon science became his favourite subject. Seeing you became the highlight of his day, better than scoring a goal in basketball or cutting class with Tommy and Carol. It was as if no time had passed between the two of you, the conversation so easy and genuine, and he made it a personal challenge to have you in stitches by the time the bell rang.

He fell hard, and fast. He had always thought you were beautiful, even when you were just kids and you wore your hair in two braids and seemed to always be covered in glitter. There was just something about you, an ease and a lightness that you carried, something about your smile and sound of your laugh that had him stumbling over his sentences like an idiot. He liked hearing about all of the things he had missed, like how you got grounded for sneaking out of your room to go and watch the new Star Wars, or how you crashed your dads car into a tree the very first hour after you got your license.

It wasn’t long before he realised that his day didn’t feel complete unless he had spoken to you. He started noticing how every game he searched for your face in the bleachers, the only person he really cared about seeing. His eyes would flicker over faces at parties, determined to find your sparkling eyes and kind smile, finding the hit of seeing you more electric than the cheap beer and fizzled out joints being passed around him.

He was nervous. He didn’t get nervous - he was Steve Harrington for Christ’s sake, but somehow you had managed to turn his whole world on its axis. He tried to live his life with as little regrets as possible; but in the quiet of his bedroom, with the moonlight casting shadows across his walls, he couldn’t help but feel furious with himself. If he could go back in time and do everything all over again, he would make sure to hold onto you as tight as possible and stop the two of you drifting apart.

He wasn’t stupid, he knew you were a knockout. The kind of girl that would bring even the strongest of men to their knees, the kind of girl that lingered in his brain long after he had fallen asleep. He also knew that he wasn’t the only one who had been completely captivated by you. He had seen the way Mike Adams cornered you after the school assembly, laughing at something you said as you sat with a group of friends, an enamoured look in his eye. He saw the way Jacob Taylor tried his hardest to get as close to you as possible at a house party, dazed by the way you twirled your hair obliviously and smiled like white, hot sunshine.

He knew what they were going through, smitten and stupid and dopey and practically a puddle at your feet, because he felt exactly the same way.

He was going to ask you out to dinner and then the movies. He had an elaborate speech planned in his mind, one that he had practiced in the mirror repeatedly - not that he would ever admit it. He was nervous. So goddamn nervous of screwing up the one thing that he really fucking liked, of potentially ruining your friendship and making himself look like an ass for misreading the signals and making you uncomfortable that he almost talked himself out of it as he walked into the physics lab one rainy afternoon.

But when he saw you there, looking up at him. As sweet as cinnamon in your oversized lab coat and stupid goggles, lips slightly chewed and fingertips stained with charcoal, and he couldn’t stop himself from blurting:

“Doyouwanttogooutwithme?”

For a moment he wished he took photography class, so he could snap a picture of the blush on your cheeks, have a physical copy of your wide smile and the glint in your eyes; something to look at when he was trying to fall asleep.

“About time, Harrington.” You had said, and it had knocked all of the wind from him, and he had walked around with a big goofy grin for the entire rest of the day.

————-————————————————

“I remember being so goddamn nervous. I thought I was going to throw up.” He said now, his voice laced with humour, somehow always knowing how to diffuse any situation.

You curled up further into him, craving his stability and warmth, and you relaxed as you felt his palm rubbing comforting circles across your back.

He looked into the darkness, remembering the anxiety filling him as he waited for you on the street by your house. He remembered peering into the rear view mirror, fluffing the edges of his hair with his fingertips, twisting and pulling the strands until they sat where he wanted. He could feel his leg shaking, foot hovering above the gas as he struggled to keep his composure. He hadn’t even been this nervous when college scouts came to a game, and he seriously needed to stay cool before you opened the door and saw him.

“You brought me flowers.” You said quietly, and he looked down at you with a gentle smile, his heart clenching at the sadness in your voice.

He remembers standing in the grocery store, cursing and muttering under his breath, wondering what was more romantic: tulips or sunflowers.

He bought both.

He can remember holding them in his shaking hands as carefully as he could as he walked up the stone path to your house.

“I had to talk myself into ringing the doorbell.” He felt you scoff under him and he laughed,

“Seriously! I was terrified, more scared than I was tonight.”

Its a lie. Running through the junkyard and fighting off strange monsters had been exhilarating, but also the most terrifying experience of his life; especially when he knew that the kids and you were just metres away, hidden in the old bus. He really thought he was about to die when the demodog reared and snarled in his face, teeth gnashing at his throat, but in those moments all he could think about was protecting you.

It’s strange, he had never been so terrified to lose someone.

“And then Bob opened the door.” Your voice was heavy and thick, like you were swallowing honey and it snapped him out of his thoughts, reminding him of the reason you were both huddled outside.

Your parents worked ninety percent of the time, only really coming home to crawl into bed and then driving back to work six hours later. You were used to it though, falling into a somewhat stable routine of eating TV dinners and doing your homework to the sounds of Jeopardy! playing in the background. Despite the lonely nights and your parents distance, there was always one person who tried their absolute best to make you feel safe and secure. Your uncle, Bob Newby.

The goofy, gold hearted manager at RadioShack was always there for you, especially whenever your parents weren’t. He always made sure your refrigerator had something green inside, and would come over after work to sit and watch cheesy rom coms with you. He even installed new locks and security lights in the yard and on the porch, just to make you both feel better, even though it was Hawkins - and nothing ever happens there.

He was basically a surrogate dad and your best friend, and you weren’t even embarrassed to admit it. Some of the happiest nights of your life had been with him, like when you went to the midnight viewing of The Godfather and shared toffee popcorn and cherry twizzlers, or when he drove you to Lake Michigan for your birthday and you ate sandwiches next to the water.

So when he found out the captain of the basketball team had asked you out on a date, he was a little apprehensive.

“He really grilled me.” Steve muttered with a sad smile, it hurt him that one of the most poignant moments of his life was now to be covered in a thick, black cloud, and he could only imagine what you’re going through. “I thought he was going to pull out a shotgun.”

“Psh. It would have been a lightsaber.”

You remembered shovelling in cereal at the breakfast bar the morning of your date. Bob watching you over his steaming mug of coffee curiously.

“So… Any plans for today?”

You rolled your eyes and smiled fondly at your uncle. “Steve is taking me out. This is only like the billionth time I’ve told you.”

He nodded, “Right, Right. Steve. Steve.” He tested the name on his tongue. “And Steve is - the captain of the basketball team right?”

“Yep.” You said, through a mouthful of sugar. “Oh, and he’s the leader of this really tough biker gang, to get in you have to murder three kittens.”

You watched his eyebrows shoot to his hairline, and then slowly fall back to their original spot when he caught on to your teasing. He held up his hands in playful surrender, taking a swig of his drink and then placing his mug on the granite counter.

“I know I’m being a fusspot! But I’m just looking out for you.”

“I know, Bob! But I’ll be fine! We’re just going to catch a movie and then dinner.”

“Ok.” He sighed, turning to wash up the dishes left from the previous nights pig out fest, but his hands stilled before he could twist the faucet. “Wait! Nothing R rated - or too romantic, and tell him to knock it off if he tries that whole ‘I’m so tired, let me put my arm around you schtick!’”

“I’m ignoring you now!”

You remembered getting ready, picturing the soft blush hue of your summer dress, and the taste of your strawberry gloss on your lips. You remembered the heat of your curling iron as you meticulously styled your hair, checking your reflection as a way to distract from the minutes ticking by.

You knew the familiar feeling of sweaty palms and butterflies before a date, but that morning it was as if somebody had realised a kaleidoscope of monarchs and swallowtails inside of you. You were completely nauseous, but so excited, and you felt like you were floating on cloud nine, unable to believe that Steve Harrington - the boy you had been crushing on since first grade - wanted to take you out.

You were nervously touching up your makeup, widening your eyes and applying yet another coat of mascara, when you heard commotion downstairs - and the telltale sound of your date getting completely grilled. You practically flew to your feet, haphazardly tying your converse and grabbing your purse, hoping to save Steve from the clutches of your overprotective Uncle. You nearly slid down the carpet when you noticed the door was ajar, smiling widely at the sight of Steve clutching two bouquets, his hair perfectly coiffed and his sneakers white and gleaming.

“- No I’ve never been in an accident, Sir.” You heard Steve say, his voice carrying through the hallway.

“Hmm?” You heard Bob reply, “And what about alcohol? Do you drink it?

“Only eggnog at Christmas.” Steve replied with a grin, his lips falling down when Bob sent him a glare. “Ok, not in the mood for jokes.”

“Are you under the influence now?”

“What? No! Why would I… Wow.” He faltered when he noticed you at the top of the stairs, and for the first time his mind went totally blank, his brain short circuiting at the sight of you. He felt his mouth go dry and he struggled to say something, not wanting to look like any more of an idiot than he already was, but Bob got there first.

“You look great, sweetheart.” He said, voice brimming with pride.

You blushed a deep crimson, feeling awkward under both of their stares. “Thanks, Bob.”

As soon as you reached the floor you blinked up at the men watching you, raising a brow slowly when Steve didn’t move. “So are you ready?”

“Yep. Yes. Yep.” He said quickly, rummaging around his pockets for his keys, and then realising they were in his hands the whole time. “Lets go.”

“Be home before eleven!” You heard Bob yell, his words just carrying into the night before you managed to slam the front door shut.

After the initial awkward meeting at your door, and Bob shooting unconvincing daggers at Steve as he guided you towards his car, the rest of the date went smoothly. You had been out with boys before; middle school crushes that took you to the ice cream parlour in town, and letting your best friend rope you in for a double date with a boy you had never met - but nothing like this.

As the car lulled through the streets, any unease forming quickly uncoiled between the two of you, and it wasn’t long until you were both in stitches. It felt so natural and easy, and you found yourself wanting to know everything about the hazel haired man sitting next to you.

You ate at a diner just outside of town, because according to Steve: “they have the best strawberry milkshakes - ever. I swear they’re like crack.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it, Harrington.” You had said, shooting him a million dollar smile over your shoulder. He was glad that you walked in first, because it felt as though a bullet had soared through his gut.

——————————————————————-

“I remember the milkshakes.” You said. Steve looked down at you, curled up on his lap. He nodded at your words, thinking of summer days and winter nights snuggled up in your booth at the diner. You must have shared hundreds by now, drinking such an obscene amount of the sweet treat it was a surprise neither of you looked like a strawberry. You had ruined the fruit for him. He couldn’t take a bite from a strawberry without remembering the taste of your lips or the sound of your laugh, it was conditioned into him like he was one of Pavlov’s dogs. But he would be lying if he said he didn’t love it, strawberries had become his favourite fruit.

“I told you those milkshakes were great.”

“Yeah, you did.”

He could feel you wobbling under him, could feel the heart wrenching tremor of your body starting to shake with tears and he swore internally, trying his best to distract you again.

“And then we watched Ghostbusters.”

You let out a half hearted laugh. “And you almost shit yourself when you saw Slimer.”

“He popped up outta nowhere!”

“And then you spilt popcorn everywhere.”

“Yeah, that old lady was pissed.” He clicked his tongue at the memory, crumbs and melted butter flying everywhere, the entire row in front covered in his mess and glaring at you both, you laughing so hard into your sleeve you thought you might just pass out.

“And then I drove you home - way before curfew I might add - because I’m a gentleman.”

“And then you kissed me.”

“I think you’ll find you kissed me.”

“Ha.You wish.”

It felt good to hear the bite back in your voice, and it warmed him like a zap of electricity that his plan of distraction was working.

Besides, it was partly true - you had kissed him first.

That night as he pulled into your driveway, his gut felt like a huge boulder inside of him. There was nothing more that he wanted then to lean over the console and kiss you, but he was too goddamn nervous.

The date had gone so brilliantly, and he could feel himself, tripping, stumbling and falling completely head over heels for you, but he was so uncharacteristically anxious that it was kind of freaking him out. He was getting all worked up about things he had never thought of before, like his teeth clashing against yours, or accidentally knocking your heads together and giving you a mild concussion.

He left his car running, because he didn’t want you to be cold, (and the constant vibrations were good at hiding the tremor in his legs). It was fully black outside, the night sky a long stretch of navy and the stars were pretty but not nearly as pretty as the girl smiling at him in the passenger seat. Just as your eyes connected and he thought he was going to finally kiss you, the porch light turned on, a nice little reminder from Uncle Bob that he was still watching. You laughed exasperatedly and reached over, filling the distance between you as you tried to grab the strap of your handbag and Steve leant over to give you a hand with the sticky door, but instead your lips caught his and he froze in place, his eyes closed and his heart feeling like a jackhammer in his chest, all of his worries evaporating behind him like ocean spray, because suddenly everything felt right.

“Night, Harrington.” You had said smugly, leaving him in his car that suddenly smelt like cotton candy and coconut shampoo, and with an entire carnivals worth of fireworks erupting from his stomach.

————————————————————

“When I got inside he pretended he had just woken up.” You said now, your words coated with tears but laced with tenderness. “Tried to act like he wasn’t staring through the window watching us kiss.”

Steve tangled his fingers through your hair, anchoring the two of you together, hoping that the small action would give you at least some comfort. He mulled over all of the memories the two of you shared, picturing them shattered at his feet like shards of shimmering glass. He wasn’t sure how to comfort you and it hurt, the silence settling around you like thick, poisonous gas.

“What about our first anniversary? The first time we committed a felony.”

“It wasn’t a felony.”

“Yeah and I’m sure it wasn’t the first time either, you little criminal.”

He remembered when you went out to a much too fancy restaurant in the city. How angelic and beautiful you looked in a little sundress and heels, stealing the breath right out of his lungs whenever he looked at you. How even when he was out of his comfort zone you felt like home, always making him feel stable no matter where he was. He remembered those glances you stole at one another, tongue in cheek laughter and suppressed smiles at the strange place you were both in, the two of you sticking out amongst the older, richer and snootier couples like a sore thumb.

He remembered the glint in your eye and the look on your face, the one that had him completely wrapped around your little finger - (but really, you could look at him anyway and he was a complete goner). It was how you both stood up at the same time, grabbing your handbag and wallet and rushing through the sea of people, laughing loudly as he slipped his hand in yours and pulled you with him, dodging the doorman who was cursing loudly at the kids who had just dined and dashed, even though neither of you had had more than a mouthful of your overpriced starter.

“You are such a bad influence, (Y/L/N).” He had scolded, playfully pinching the inside of your thigh as you lay stretched out on a picnic blanket overlooking the forests on the edge of town. You swatted him away, and he felt his breath hitch at the sight of you, hair tousled and makeup slightly worn, so effortlessly beautiful beneath the headlights of his car.

“Oh, please Hargrove. You would be lost without me.”

He didn’t reply, because it was true.

Instead he leaned over your body, stealing a quick kiss and also a handful of fries from the drive thru bag next to you.

“Hey!” You whined, leaning up and swatting at him. “Those are mine!”

“Technically, technically,” He said, licking salt from his fingertips. “They were at the bottom of the bag, not in either of the cartons - so they were never really yours.”

You rolled your eyes, punching him softly in the gut and laughing as he collapsed on top of you. “You are such a dumbass.”

“Yeah, but I’m your dumbass.”

He ran his tongue over a canine, finding clarity in your eyes.“I can’t believe you’ve put up with me for a whole year.”

“Me neither, but the money your dad gives me to go out with you makes it worth it.”

His finger trailed along the bridge of your nose, his lips curling the same as the path his fingerprints followed. “Stupid.” It was a terrible comeback, but when you looked up up at him like that, all of his sentences spilt into a bowl of mismatched alphabet soup. He blinked down at you, feeling the way his heart hammered against his rib cage, engulfed in the terrifying feeling of being so in love with somebody. “Seriously though, this has - this has been the best year of my life.”

Your rosebud lips parted, showing him that dammed smile that would make him burn down the whole town if you asked him to. “Mine too.”

——————————————————————-

“Remember when I got a black eye because of you?” He murmured, glancing up at the stars that flickered above you both.

“Because of me?” You scoffed, halfheartedly. “Hardly.”

“Ok. Keep telling yourself that.”

There was once a time where he loved nothing more than spending Friday through Sunday completely wasted, waking up on somebodies couch, his mouth tasting like sour liquor and his clothes scattered across the floor - but not after he met you. He used to long for the high from downing tequila shots or jumping into the pool with hazy eyes, a burnt out joint being passed around friends, but soon he realised that nothing came close to the fever high he got from simply being around you.

He remembered sitting in the school parking lot on a Friday afternoon, listening to Tommy and Carol natter about how a group of seniors were going to break into the rec centre and get drunk, but there words were nothing but static as he looked for you among the familiar faces.

You had been officially dating for a few months, and much to Tommy’s dismay, it seemed as though neither of you had any intention of letting the other go. It stung the teenager when Steve started blowing him off to hang out with you, his usual alibi for wild parties leaving him high and dry. He was jealous of the way you managed to consume all of Steve’s attention, and the fact that since the two of you had gotten together, Steve was so much kinder to everyone, and didn’t want to join in with his juvenile antics. When you went to parties, he drank less and laughed more, and Tommy was left doing shots and keg stands alone.

More than anything though, Tommy was jealous that Steve had scored a girl like you, kind and soft and sweet, when he had trouble getting Carol to stay over longer than the time it took to drain a bottle of stolen wine. It made him feel envious and insecure, watching the way you kissed Steve in the hallways with rosebud lips and your eyes shone like diamonds under the gentle sun; when was a girl going to look at him like that?

“You coming tonight, Harrington?” He asked from the hood of Steve’s car, his legs dangling onto the asphalt.

“No.” Steve said, chewing on his fingernails. “Sorry man, I’m taking (Y/N) to the drive in.”

“Aww.” Carol preened, a solid supporter of your relationship. You hadn’t known her too well before you started seeing Steve and hadn’t expected to become so close to her, but now she was one of your best friends. Sure she could be a little vapid and a little rude, but she also made you laugh loudly and always helped you get ready for dates with Steve, and you really appreciated the way she let you into the inner circle. “That’s so sweet. You guys are too cute.”

Tommy ignored her. He could already feel himself boiling over.

“Cmon Harrington, it’s one night. It’s tradition.”

“No it isn’t.”

He exhaled loudly. “Well it should be.”

“I’m good, man. And besides, we’re still going to see the Bulls play on Saturday, right?”

“I guess.”

Silence settled around them like cigarette ash. Tommy, growing more irate by the second, toyed with the collar of his shirt and curled and uncurled his fingers. He wasn’t quite sure why he was pissed - as Steve’s best friend he should have been pleased with how love struck and happy he was, and it wasn’t as though he never saw Steve anymore, or that you had split up the group or anything - but he was still annoyed, and that’s why he said it.

“God, I hope she’s a better fuck than she looks. I mean, she must be if she’s got you this whipped.”

It took a moment for Steve to process what he had said, swallowing his friends words like they were barbed wire, his throat filling with blood.

“What the fuck did you say?”

“Just what everybody else is thinking.” It wasn’t what everybody thought, but Tommy thrived off of mob mentality, and the small crowd watching in the parking lot was enough to spike his adrenaline.

“Tommy.” Carol warned, her voice thick and heavy, eyeing him from over the roof of the car.

“What did you say about her?” Steve asked, his face turning crimson, the shade matching the colour coating his pupils.

Tommy didn’t hold back, his hands firmly grasping his shovel, ready to dig himself deeper. “Jesus. Look at you! Look what she’s turned you into. She’s a bitch, and so are you.” He gestured wildly with his hands, the severity of what he had said was slowly sinking in, but he was stupid enough to stand by it for the time being.

Steve was livid. His body rattling like he had been struck by lightning. He knew he wasn’t some fucking white knight who had to defend your honour, but there was no way in hell he was going to let some fucking prick about you like that.

“And…you know what? The both of you can - ”

“Fuck you.” Steve brought his fingers to a fist and clocked him right in the nose, a sickening thwack echoing around the school. Tommy recoiled backwards, almost falling through the windshield. He managed to regain his balance at the last second, and his face was contorted with both pain and disbelief.

“What the fuck man?” Tommy seethed, spitting out a wad of blood and lunging at Steve, managing to grab him by his collar and slam him onto the asphalt, their jeans ripping across the gravel.

The two of them rolled around, a deadly mix of closed knuckles and crisp white sneakers. A small crowd had gathered around the two of them, the air thick with the metallic tang of blood and rich with stories to be shared around the party that night. They both managed to get a couple good hits in, Steve just managing to get the upper hand before the school janitor started calling in for backup.

You had just left World Civ, your textbooks still cradled in your arms and your best friend laughing in your ear as you made your way out of the school and towards the parking lot.

“Yeah, I swear! She…” Your best friends voice trailed off as she noticed a blur of movement in the distance, her ears picking up like a bloodhounds. “Oh my God. I wonder what’s going on.”

You looked up shrugging your shoulders, expecting to see some of the wrestling team or soccer players roughhousing like they usually did, but your blood turned cold when your eyes focused fully and you caught sight of that damn perfect hair.

“Holy shit. Steve!”

If only your phys ed teacher could have witnessed the speed you ran across the car park; dust picking up with your shoes as you bolted towards your boyfriend. You managed to break through the inner circle crowding around them, the teenagers egging on Tommy and Steve as they scrambled towards one another, the sound of elbows and knees and fingernails clashing all around you.

“Hey. Hey! That’s enough!”

Poor Mr Springer tried his best to separate the two of them, wrapping his arms around Tommy’s waist and trying to tear them apart as they continued scrapping like junkyard dogs.

Your mouth was agape as a couple of boys helped break the two of them up, your eyes widening at the scarlet red blood staining the ground and the deep purple bruises already starting to show. You managed to catch Steve’s line of sight, his eyes widening at the sight of you, his face starting to swell.

“Steve? What the fuck!”

“Oh! Hey, babe? How did your pop quiz go?” He asked, throwing you a dazzling smile as though everything was right in the world.

Despite everything, you bit back a laugh, kneeling down to wrap your hands around him. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.” You said, cradling the now puffy side of his face, a quarter sized apricot indent growing under his eye.

He winked at you as he was pulled away and dragged to the principal. He knew he was in for a months worth of Saturday detentions, but he couldn’t care less. He avoided the death glare his former best friend was giving him, licking the blood pooling across his split lip.

If he had to chose between you or Tommy, or choose between nights in with you or nights out with the rest of the seniors - hell, if he had to choose between basketball and you, it would be you, every time.

Point blank, period.

———————————————————-

There was a chill in the air, swallowing the both of you whole. Steve could feel his jeans dampening, your tears cascading down your face and onto his denim. He could feel eyes on the back of neck, and knew without turning around that Dustin and the rest of the kids were watching from the kitchen window, waiting to jump out and rescue you both if something crawled out from the bushes.

He didn’t have much time left. Soon he would have to bring you back inside, away from the vulnerability of the night and into the embrace of those you had grown so close to. He thinks back with a grimace, to the fight you had over your new routine.

Bob and Joyce dating came as a shock to everyone involved, especially Steve. Not so much that Bob had found companionship with the pretty single mother, but more so that it meant you were spending more time at their house - with Jonathon.

He wasn’t jealous.

He wasn’t.

No matter how many times you rolled your eyes and teased him - he wasn’t jealous.

He just didn’t like the idea of you sat next to him at movie nights, laughing with him during family board games, eating breakfast in the chair beside him, driving to school together and singing along to the stupid obscure bands that Jonathon liked.

Ok maybe he was a little jealous. Sue him.

He’d spent the night at your place, under the guise of helping you with your calculus homework, even though you had a higher grade than him, and he watched with sleepy eyes as you rummaged around your desk in the morning.

“What?” He mumbled under the slowly rising sun, half of his face still buried in your pillow. “What? Where? Where are you going?”

You rifled through your handbag and examined the contents, glancing at him over your shoulder. “Bob’s taking everyone out for lunch - well it should have been breakfast but someone - ” you emphasised with a playful glare, “Is making me late.”

“Whose going?”

“Everyone.”

“Everyone?”

“You know. Me, Joyce, Jon and Will.”

Jon.

“You didn’t tell me Jonathon was going.” He’s not sure if it’s true. He remembers fragments of you telling him your plans for the weekend, but he also remembers your words shattering before they reached his brain, because of that little strappy top you were wearing and the blackberry colour of your lipstick.

“What?” You asked distractedly, untangling your headphones from your Walkman. “I did.”

“No.” He clicked his jaw, a sign of his annoyance. “You just said Bob was taking you out.”

“With everyone - everyone includes Jonathon.”

“Right.” He’s pissed. His anger isn’t directed at you, more so the floppy haired teenager you’ll be sharing pancakes with, even though it’s not exactly his fault either. “Since when did you guys become The Brady Brunch?”

You let out a dry laugh, oblivious to the fact your boyfriend was getting more agitated by the second.

Did you really have to wear that skirt? He thought. Why did it have to be the short little denim one covered in cherries that made you look so damn good?

“You know how much Joyce loves her kids, Bob just wants to make an effort.”

“Yeah but why do you have to go?”

You shrugged, applying a swipe of lipgloss and tightening your cardigan in an effort to hide the hickeys blossoming under your collarbones. “He invited me, said it’s a family thing.”

“It’s not as though you’re really family though is it?”

He regretted it the moment the syllables left his mouth, but he was too wound up to think before he spoke. He cringed at the way you lost his gaze in the mirror, really fucking hating himself when he saw the crimson blush rise from your throat and onto your cheeks, and the sheen coating your eyes.

“I should go.”

You didn’t hesitate, grabbing your belongings and darting down the stairs. Family had always been a sore subject for you, and he loathed himself for striking you in the one place that it really fucking hurt.

“Wait.. Baby I -” He chased after you, but you were too fast. He wished that you would stay and argue with him, he’d let you scream and yell and shout at him, because he deserved it and he wanted to let you know he was sorry for being a prick, but you were already out of the door.

“Just up when you leave.” Were the last things you said, disappearing into your car.

He apologised with your favourite chocolates and red roses and an attempt to make you dinner. You couldn’t stay upset with him and his sheepish grin even when half of your kitchen was covered in tomato sauce and your moms pan was coated in burnt pasta.

The boy could screw up, but he always knew how to make up for it.

He trusted you, and loved you, and apologised for - in your words, ‘being a class A jackass’ - and even put away his pride long enough to tell you that, Ok, fine, maybe he was a tiny bit jealous of Jonathon and the bond growing between you.

That night as you curled up on your living room floor amongst an abundance of pillows and crocheted throws, you reassured him that you were in love with him and only him, even when he drove you up the wall. He fell asleep a little easier that night, his girl happy and safe in his arms, your words calming the storm that was once brewing in his mind.

…And maybe Jonathon wasn’t that bad.

———————————————————-

The light of the moon was harsh, almost like the street lamps that flickered in the distance. Steve could feel you moving underneath him, and his palms were starting to dampen, the reality of the evening finally sinking in.

Bob was dead.

As though the same thought had passed through you, you spoke, your voice strained and quiet. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”

“I know.”

Your voice cracked like thin ice. “He didn’t deserve to die. He didn’t… He.” You choked on your words, and Steve pulled you into him firmly, as if to stop you from falling apart.

“I’m so sorry, baby.”

You sniffled, a sob tearing through your lungs and clawing through your throat, and you tried desperately to not think about your poor uncles lifeless body. “What am I going to do without him?”

You weren’t looking for an answer, but Steve gave you one.

“It’ll be me and you, it’ll be us. Forever.”

His future was uncertain. He was under a mountain of pressure from his teachers and coaches and guidance counsellors to get his head down and decide about college and scholarships and what he was going to do with his life.

He even took one of those quizzes that was supposed to help him figure his shit out, but when he sat there, pencil in hand and he read the words - where do you see yourself in five years? The only thing he could think of, was you.

He thought of you, so smart and pretty, your future just as undecided as his, but still by his side. He could see road trips and night drives and long distance calls, he could see morning laughter and monumental arguments and make ups, in the distance he could even see a house with a white picket fence and a big dog and a few kids who looked like a mixture of the both of you.

It seemed so simple. So much more simple than applying for college or an internship, because he knew that whatever he did, he wanted it with you.

And then this crazy fucking year happened, and things weren’t so simple anymore. Soon he was best friends with a bunch of pre teens and fighting off big scary fucking monsters and Billy Hargrove. Soon his small world of basketball and strawberry milkshakes and tongue kisses was filled with danger, and he needed to keep you safe.

“I miss him.”

“I know.” He says honestly. “I miss him too.”

He remembered the last conversation he had with Bob. It was before they found Hopper underground, and Bob was getting ready to leave and see Joyce and Will. You were in your room, finishing off the last of your homework, and Steve was heading downstairs to finish off the last of the pizza. He had just grabbed a Coke and a slice of pepperoni, when he saw Bob rummaging through the cupboard in the hall.

“Hey,” Steve said, waving the hand with the soda in it. “I heard about Will. Is he alright?”

Bob gave a kind nod. “Yeah.” He hesitated. “Well, actually, I’m not sure. I’m uh - I’m looking for my old board games for him to play with.”

Steve smiled, because that was exactly the thing Bob would do. “Well, give him my best.”

They exchanged pleasantries, and Steve spun his heel to rejoin you upstairs, taking a big bite of melted cheese as he walked, before Bob spoke aloud once again.

“There’s something strange going on in this town.”

Steve remembered the year before, standing in Jonathan’s living room, twinkling Christmas lights draped on the wall and a baseball bat in his hands. He remembered Barb and Will, and the body from the quarry.

“Yeah.”

Bob exhaled, moving so that he was standing face to face with the teenager. “You make sure nothing happens to her, alright? You know she’s - you know she’s my little girl.”

Steve straightened, his voice solid. “I would never let anything happen to her.”

“I know. You’re a good guy, Harrington.”

He doesn’t know if he agrees, but he knows that for you, he will be.

“Take care of her.”

“Always.”

And they had partied ways: Steve upstairs, where he pulled you into his arms and made you laugh as he planted wet kisses on your face. And Bob to the Byers house to find a map spanning the length of the walls, and then the hospital, and then ultimately, to his death.

———————————————————-

The dark felt much more menacing now, shadows moving like long fingernails and jagged claws around you. He knew that he had to get you inside. He knew that the others would be making plans and setting traps and he knew how much safer you would be there. His heart was shattered after the small sobs leaving your body, your chest deflating like a burst balloon. He also knew that the best people to comfort you would be inside, Joyce with her motherly love, Dustin with his sweet, silly nature, and even Jonathon who truly loved you like a sibling.

“Cmon, lets get you inside.”

He wrapped his hands around you and helped lift you up, steadying you as you swayed on shaky legs. He cradled you into him, feeling the warmth of your breath and tears against his throat, and he inhaled, preparing himself and readying himself, telling him to be strong, for you.

He wrapped a free hand around the door handle, waiting to twist. He took one final look at the menacing bushes and trees surrounding you both, listening for a rustle from the branches.

He doesn’t know what will happen next. But he does know, that whatever it is, you’ll face it, together.

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #stranger things imagines #steve harrington oneshot #stranger things oneshot #\ #strangerthings #stranger things headcanon #steve harrington headcanon

[stars-and-branches]

Make me admit stuff ask game:

4, 5, 7, 10, 11, 14, 17, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25 (ignore if you don’t have a crush ATM), 28, 30, 34, 38, 43, 48, 49, 50, 52, 55, 56, 58, 63, 69, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75, 76, 77, 78, 79, 81, 82, 83, 85, 87, 89, 92,

I always pick out a ton of questions I’m sorry haha😅 only answer the ones you want to ☺️

It’s fine! Answers under the cut:

4: “ Is trust a big issue for you? “

Yes. It’s difficult for me to be vulnerable with other people and is something I’ve been working on. I also have anxiety disorder (panic disorder as well) and get caught in really bad fits of paranoia that spiral if I’m not talked down from them.

5: “ Did you hang out with the person you like recently? “

No. I’ve been pretty much cooped up inside my house since last March (travelling occasionally because after my Mom died a bunch of family wanted to see me.).

7: “ What happened tonight? “

Last night I made myself stuffed peppers and went to sleep fairly early. (I have the sleeping habits of a retiree.)

10: “ What is the last beverage you had? “

Water, though before that I had a cup of tea.

11: “ How many people of the opposite sex do you fully trust? “

Three, my Dad and my close friends.

14: “ What are you going to spend money on next? “

I don’t know, probably food? I don’t tend to spend a lot of money. I’m pretty stingy.

17: “ Who do you feel most comfortable talking to about anything? “

Not really anyone? I have boundaries and there’s some subjects that I can’t address.

20: “ Are you starting to realize anything? “

Not particularly.

21: “ Are you in a good mood? “

Yes, but I’m tired so that might be leaking into my answers a little bit :P.

22: “ Would you ever want to swim with sharks? “

Yes, but it depends on the type of shark!

23: “ Are your eyes the same color as your dad’s? “

Yep. My eye color comes from his side of the family (and my Mom’s somewhat).

24: “ What do you want right this second? “

A bowl of soup and a nap. Maybe hot chocolate.

28: “ What was the last thing that made you laugh? “

A Tik Tok I saw while goofing off on my phone. 

30: “ Does everyone deserve a second chance? “

Yes but I don’t have to stick around for it.

34: “ Listening to? “

This playlist. Right now Us and Them by Pink Floyd is playing.

38: “ Who did you last call? “

My grandmother.

43: “ Ever embarrass yourself in front of a crush? “

Absolutely, I’m a dumbass and embarrass myself in some way shape or form whenever I hang out with anyone, especially my crush. When I’m around someone I like it’s like I lose all of my braincells.

48: “ Do you sing in the shower? “

Sometimes!

49: “ Do you dance in the car? “

I don’t dance so much as I tap my fingers on the steering wheel and nod my head. When I’m sitting at a red light though? That’s another story.

50:  “ Ever used a bow and arrow? “

Twice. The first time was when I was four and went to a ren faire for the first (and only) time. The second time was at 6th grade camp.

52: “ Do you think musicals are cheesy? “

Yes but I still love them.

55: “ Favorite type of fruit pie? “

Dutch apple pie. There’s a mountain town an hour or so from my house that’s famous for their pies.

56: “ Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid? “

Music teacher, comedian, actor, computer programmer, park ranger.

58: “ Ever have a Deja-vu feeling? “

Constantly. I’ll be minding my business and realize that the exact situation I’m in happened in a dream a while ago.

63: “ First concert? “

Imagine Dragons when I was 11.

69: “ Ever take dance lessons? “

Yes but I was really young so I don’t remember anything from it.

70: “ Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing? “

Not really? Who am I to dictate my spouse’s profession? As long as they’re at least doing something.

71: “ Can you curl your tongue? “

Yes.

72: “ Ever won a spelling bee? “

Nope, I’ve never been in one.

73: “ Have you ever cried because you were so happy? “

Yep, I cry very easily, though I don’t like crying in front of others.

74: “ What is your favorite book? “

The Shining by Stephen King.

75: “ Do you study better with or without music? “

It depends on what/how I’m studying. Most of the time I have music going though.

76: “ Regularly burn incense? “

Yep! Everything except cone incense. I like setting things on fire (loose incense) and I use incense as low-energy offerings regularly.

77: “ Ever been in love? “

Yes.

78: “ Who would you like to see in concert? “

Hozier bc I’m gay. MCR would be awesome too.

79: “ What was the last concert you saw? “

A three day Dead and Company concert back in the summer of 2019, I’m wearing the hoodie I bought from there as I type :D.

81: “ Tea or coffee? “

Tea. but I’m definitely in the mood for a coffee sometimes. Specifically, a poor man’s mocha. (I pour coffee over hot chocolate mix)

82: “ Favorite type of cookie? “

To bake? Either thumbprints or sugar cookies that I can cut out.

To eat? Almond cookies (my Grandmother makes them every Christmas) or peanut butter cookies.

83: “ Can you swim well? “

Somewhat? I’m not joining a swim team anytime soon but I love the water.

85: “ Are you patient? “

I try to be.

87: “ Ever won a contest? “

Not that I can recall, no. Does kahoot count?

89: “ Which are better black or green olives? “

Neither. I don’t care for olives.

92: “ Do you want to get married? “

Yes, but not because of patriarchy or whatever. I want to have a handfasting, it just seems really sweet and romantic, ya know? When I fall in love I fall hard, usually for one person and I tend to get tunnel vision for them. 

[avenging-fandoms]

best friend peter p, coming back to you after those 5 years, in tears bc he lost the only father figure he had in a long time, and you stay with him for a week or so, never leaving his side bc he didn't want to be alone :(

so it’s best friend and boyfriend peter because i’m too soft for this boy🥺

—

the door bell rang, and you figured it was may coming back from the store and she needed help. she had been gone for an hour, but you thought it was hard to find groceries since half of the population was gone and the local store was abandonded.

after the snap, you asked may to stay at her apartment a couple days out of the week. the pain of losing your best friend took such a toll on you, and may felt so much pain as well.

for the past years, you and may helped each other. making each other smile, doing things to help distract the pain some days. but it can only go so far until you’re reminded of peter.

you put down your book, fixing your hair and opening the door, your breath caught in your throat as immediate tears flooded your vision.

“peter..” his eyes, a dark red with his dirty cheeks stained with tears, fingers shaky as his clothes were dirty and torn. he fell into your arms, face buried into your shoulder as he sobbed, your arms tight around each other.

you couldn’t believe that he was standing right in front of you, in your arms, it was him. he was alive, breathing, in your arms.

you two stumble into the living room, you kicking the door closed as you two fall onto the couch. you pull away, holding peter’s hands as you look into his eyes. his eyes you’ve missed seeing crinkle every time he smiled or laughed. but he wasn’t smiling now, his eyes were red and tears pouring out.

“peter.. i can’t.. i can’t believe.. what happened, peter?” your hand laid on his cheek and he shut his eyes, crying as he leaned into your touch, holding your wrist.

“tony’s.. dead..” he choked out, laying his head on your chest. you hug his head, kissing the top of it and his forehead as his fingers held your shirt, shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

“oh pete.. shh it’s okay babe it’s okay. no it’s not okay, you lost tony. i’m so sorry” he sat up and wiped his eyes, the dirt smearing which made you smile a bit.

“i saw him.. slowly.. go” your fingers comb through his hair, his fingers rubbing your thighs. “i really need a shower” the both of you laugh and he looks up at you, a smile on his face.

“yeah.. you’re all dirty. come on, i can start it for you and then get your clothes. your lips are nearly blue. i’ll put a blanket in the dryer to warm you up after the shower, alright?” he nods and you stand up, taking his hand and taking him to the bathroom. you sit him on the toilet seat, opening the curtain and running the warm water.

peter got up and kissed your cheek, sliding off his shirt. you smile and close the door half way, gathering peter’s clothes and picking the fluffiest blanket he had and headed to the dryer, may opening the door.

“hey yn, are you gonna shower?” you shake your head, putting the blanket on the couch. she closes the door and puts the bags on the table, and you shake your head.

“he’s home, may” you smile and she drops her keys. “he’s showering right now ‘cause he was all dirty, but he’s alive” she hugs you tightly, rubbing your back.

“i can’t believe it. is he hurt at all? does he have a beard, did he grow?” you laugh, shaking your head.

“he’s still our peter”

“okay, well, i’m gonna start our dinner for 3” you smile and kiss her cheek.

“may? can you do me a favor and put this blanket in the dryer for a few? peter’s lips were a little blue and i want to keep him warm after the shower.

“of course”

“thank you” you head into peter’s room and grab his clothes, putting them on the bathroom counter.

“yn?”

“right here” he peeked his head out of the curtain, his eyes redder.

“please don’t.. please don’t leave until i’m done? if it’s okay. i just.. don’t want to be alone”

“of course” you sit in the doorway, playing a random game until peter was done. he opened the curtain and wrapped his towel around his waist, standing in front of the mirror. you look up and see his hands leaning on the counter, head down.

you stand up and throw your phone on his bed, walking over and laying your hand on his back. your lips softly press against his skin, scratching his back softly and comforting him. “i’m sorry.. god i’m sorry for crying so much”

“no need to apologize. you never should apologize for how you feel, my love” he sniffles and kisses your temple.

“thank you, yn”

“anytime. i’ll be in your room” you left the door open a bit so peter could still see you, laying on your stomach as you beat the game on your phone.

“okay” you turn around on your back and peter falls next to you, sighing happily as he lays in his bed. you smile and your hand rubs his back under his shirt, his eyes fluttering shut.

“no no no, you can’t fall asleep. we haven’t had dinner” you grab his arm and stand up, trying to pull him up. he pulls you on top of him and the both of you laugh. “dinner, peter!”

“fine fine” he kissed your jaw and the two of you get up, peter walking out of the room first. “aunt may..”

“peter” the two of them hug each other tightly, you smiling and heading into the kitchen to watch dinner as the two talk. you take the pasta off the burner, putting it into bowls. “i’m gonna go change into my sweatpants because these jeans are not comfortable”

“okay may” peter walks over to you and puts his hands on your hips, kissing your neck and softly swaying.

“you’re distracting me from getting dinner ready” you put the pot down and turn in his arms, pressing him against the wall and kissing him softly. his fingers hold your hips and pulls you closer, putting you against the wall now and pulling your leg around his waist.

you two hear the door open, pulling away and wiping your mouths. “oh god..” peter groans and you laugh, peter holding you in front of him as aunt may turns the corner.

“this pasta looks yummy, may, thank you” you try to step away from peter but he pulls you back against him, playing along and laying your head on his chest as he kissed your head.

“no problem, i’m sorry, peter, i have to finish something at work, but i promise we can do something tomorrow, okay? i’m really sorry, i hate to do this when you get back”

“may, may, i understand. we have all the time in the world. i love you”

“i love you too, pete” she smiled and dipped into her room, you gasping as peter pressed you tighter against him.

“mr. parker!”

“can’t help it around you” he kisses your neck and you giggle, snapping the sweatpants band against his waist, making his groan softly.

“get your pasta and eat, you horn dog” you grab two bowls and hand him one, getting pasta and traveling to his room together. you two eat as you talk about the snap and watch tv, and after you’re both done, you snuggle into his chest.

you check your phone and sigh, sitting up. “i have to go home, bub”

“yn.. can i tell you something?”

“of course, what’s up?”

“i don’t want to be alone, and i don’t think i can be for a while. especially away from you. i’ve been gone for 5 years. and..and i wanted to ask.. can you.. please stay with me?”

“of course, my love” you lay back down and grip his hair as you kiss him softly, his hand going on your neck and kissing you deeper, pulling you on top of him.

—

you and peter lay in your underwear, the both of you playing with each other’s fingers. “i’ve really missed you, yn”

“i missed you more, peter” you kissed his fingertips and laid your hand softly on his chest. “i slept in your bed and in your sweatshirt every time i came over when you were gone. i couldn’t help but.. cry. i looked at old photos and videos and thought you were gone forever. i couldn’t.. stand knowing you might have been gone forever” you sniffle and sigh, looking up at peter. “but now you’re here. and i’m so happy you are, ive missed you so much, baby”

he kissed you passionately, pulling away and brushing his nose against yours. “i love you so much, yn”

“i love you more, babe”

you and peter laid in silence, listening to each other breathe and the outside life of new york. “tony’s funeral is next week. would you.. would you come with me?”

“i will, peter. he was the nicest guy i ever met, and he really loved you, peter”

—

that one night turned into a whole week, but you didn’t mind. peter was hurting, he had anxiety and paranoia from the snap, and he didn’t want to ever be alone for too long.

you slept in peter’s bed every night, and he held you tightly as he slept. almost every night, peter woke up drenched in sweat, heavy breathing and freaking out as he cried.

you helped him through every one. holding him against your chest and reassuring him every time. whispering how you weren’t leaving him ever again and how much you love him. and peter felt safe every time. he was so happy to be back in your arms, and you were happy that he was back in your arms.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker imagines #peter parker blurb #peter parker blurbs #spider man #spider man far from home #spiderman #avengers endgame #tom holland #tom holland x reader

[birthdaylobotomy]

K I’m so sleep deprived that I am seeing things. Fun. Also

When I was little I was always TERRIFIED every single fucking night. I couldn’t go to sleep until my sister (we shared a room) was asleep so the demons wouldn’t get get her. I had to face the door so if I opened my eyes I would see the demons. I needed the lights on so I could see the demons. The door had to be shut so it would be harder for the demons to get it........... I had to sleep on my side so I could watch for the demons. I had to pee at least three times before I fell asleep. I had to say the same prayers over and over. I would stay up and swear my angel collection was staring at me. Every little thing scared me so bad. God I’m so glad that my paranoia has calmed down bc that was hell... or whatever that’s even was if it was paranoia or what. So scary and stressful. It was like “count all the steps or your family will die” or “if you even THINK about this everyone will know and you to hell.” I told my mom EVERY SINGLE THING bc I was always so terrified... every single thing I did wrong... back when I was a little cringey yaoi fangirl I saw something that said “if you ship yaoi I hope you spoon your eyes out” or something... I didn’t even really understand it either I was like 12 and I told my mom and EXPLAINED TO MT CONSERVATIVE MOM WHAT YAOI WAS and I couldn’t look at spoons for MONTHS. If I was near a battery I would have to STARE at it to make sure I didn’t “accidentally swallow it” bc I heard a story about it once.... watched that 1000 way to die show once and a BLEHK I couldn’t wear a belt and I still have never worn a belt.... and only recently have I been able to actually touch raw meat and milk and ice cream- HUGE former fears of mine I wouldn’t even be in the same room as raw meat before I was so terrified... washing my hands a million times..... god remembering all this shit is so crazy. Even now if I get caught up I feel similar but it’s not even comparable really... I was just a little kid and even though I told so many adults not one ever helped me even a little bit. I had to help myself. I had to ask to see a therapist myself and all that.... that’s why I fucking hate so many teachers bc they saw me very clearly suffering but since my grades were bad none ever tried to help me. That makes me so sad and angry. I’ve always been mentally ill and severely so. Sometimes I think about what things would be like if I had gotten help earlier. Probably a lot better? I’ve missed out on so much. I wish I could go back sometimes like holy shit. Little me was going through hell. Not knowing what was real or if it was a dream or memory clouded due to my brain trying to shut that horrible day away. I still don’t know if that day was real or a dream or what but god it haunts me. I wish I could tell someone but what if it was a dream? I don’t think it was but fuck. A lot of people really did me wrong. I feel so sorry for people who experience hallucinations regularly becuase it’s living hell. My childhood really was not a normal one. Really really. Most six year olds don’t try to kill themselves???????? Most six year olds aren’t in a private school where almost every kid comes out suicidal and abused by those terrible fucking teachers. I was so bullied and alone at that place. I don’t want to think about it but fuck catholic schools. I think my adhd, my anxiety and my depression are really fucking convienent. They are so huge and cover so much that everyone dosent know about all this other fucked up shit. God. My head hurts.

Don’t reblog please and thank you.

#txt #long post #dont rb #personal #suicide tw #rape tw #unmmm #idk #mental health talk #delete later

[gg-astrology]

Update Pt. II: Self-Realization and What I’m Going to do with my Old Posts

i.e. You ever experience having Big Fear of saying something on a subject, but being scared someone/something is going to Crash Down on you with a c/o about how Wrong you are? Here’s how I’m dealing with emotions and expectations and Big Fear of Consequences (incase it helps, but its just my personal experience + thoughts) 💕❤️💗

🚫long post🚫

*this is still just an update on what’s been happening in my life?? So this is literally just what I’ve thought about, processing and dealing with. It’s not really meant to be like - here’s a full-out well-explained educational post with an ending conclusion on the subject. I’m literally just recounting events of what happened and how I feel like I’d do to a friend irl - so I hope you guys can take it as such as well! 

It’s not a big deal but I think it’s good to process, share and talk about overcoming my own personal issues with you guys!! 💕❤️💗

So:

There’s one day where I woke up (when I was still without my laptop) and saw someone comment on my old post. I have tumblr linked to my email for certain notifications - just so I can screen and know what to expect when I come into my inbox/replies.

Basically, it was an old post that I wrote trying to help anon but I was factually incorrect (to the point where I cringed at the first sentence and then shamed myself to bed 5 hours later) This made me realize my Top 10 Nightmare of Tumblr Paranoia had came true (at long last).

It’s probably bad to expect it to happen? But it  happens y know. And I’m actually glad they commented because phew I want to actually make this blog a place where I can actually help people and talk about things more objectively. So heres the thing:

I’m going to go back and clarify parts of it. I’ll mostly keep most of the content intact because I think I had good intentions, I was just Lacking A lot of Fundamental Theory and Boy That’s Not A Good Thing For An Astro Blog NOT To Have.

I want to keep it as a process and archive of how far I’ve come and how much I’ve grown/learnt. I’m? decidedly not that proud of my earlier works - and there’s things I’m still concerned about that I want to go back and address/re-edit so it could be better. But I think it’s low-key kind of fun to see who you are in the past and how present me would view past me now?

It’s like a scrapbook of my astrology journey as well - like yeah I was wrong on things, but seeing me do more research and making actual pieces of work to complement my studies is like a portfolio of what I’ve done, how far I’ve come, how my objectives have changed (if they have/haven’t) what I could stand before but couldn’t stand now, or maybe some inspiration/insights that I lack now that I might’ve had before. Idk? I just think it’s a cool neat thing to not delete or erase, or Big Fear people will come see because it’s. It’s just there and it’s me.

BUT I do think? I should make it Good for everyone who still have access to the past works. It’s basically in my masterlist so it’s available to literally everyone who decides to check. And it’s NOT good if people get the wrong info because I lacked the knowledge and wrote it in a post, and still made the post accessible to everyone. That’s just.. irresponsible? On my part. And how I put everyone else up to it as well bc of my irresponsibility.

That’s Not Good. So I’m gonna do better to scan through past works and hash it out bit by bit, it’ll take some time but I’ll start with the one that was pointed out - and work my way to other ones as well just to check if they’re ok or not ok.

For Those Who Has The Big Fear as well: 

I mentioned at the beginning, this is just me talking about what I want to do about it. I just wanted to share that experience, how I feel (Complete and Utter Shame, that was mixed with Embarrassment and Horror at myself - took me a good 3 days to Process my Feelings and came to that conclusion) -- and just y know --  I’m sure this is not just a Me Thing where you see your past stuff and you Know you’re embarrassed to talk about it. But. It’s not a bad thing. And here’s me living through it.

I think in the future - I’ll continue to be embarrassed by my lack of knowledge because I have a lot to learn. There’s plenty of people - you, me, this new person who seems to know terms you haven’t heard of before, this other person who has very formed opinions on things based on their own knowledge - who learnt things and know things.

It’s? difficult to be on top of it all the time, or know everything if you haven’t learnt about it before. So don’t be ashamed or scared that you don’t? Know everything?

When you’re beginning to learn a subject, I don’t know about others, but me and my friend have this Big Fear of saying the wrong thing or coming off too confident in something that’s Wrong and then someone coming after you/calling you out for it  -- it was a mistake, or a lack of knowledge but you can’t be faulted for that. 

How are you supposed to know something if you didn’t know? That also can’t be shamed. Maybe because we think we have to be accountable for ourselves and our lack of knowledge-- so we don’t offend someone Big who may be more knowledgeable and personally offended by just-- a person not knowing something.

I think we fear the consequences, sometimes more so than talking about it or enjoying the subject in open-ness to each others who have similar interests (there’s also an issue with inadequacy and comparison, but we’ll talk about that later see topic headers below). 

I think the idea that we could get Wrecked and Hurt, Completely Mauled Over by something or someone’s influence/ideas that is Larger than us - intimidates us at a moderately core-level into Not Addressing It (i.e. Not Taking Action/Talking). Because the repercussion seems to be... wild, and Maybe We’ll be a ScrapeGoat of an Unfortunate Event and Thats Not Cool At All Yikes. 

Addressing All The Fears (a Bundle Around This Big Fear Context) 

I’ve talked about it before, like way back earlier in the days. But I’ve always had a Big Fear of this. That’s part of why I get so intimidated when someone I like/look up to follow me?

There’s always the tiny nagging suspicion and doubt underneath my anxiety regarding this topic - like I’m unsure whether they’re going to see how I talk, what I say, what I’m providing for others and cast judgement that it isn’t good enough - like maybe I’m wrong about something and I’ll have to live with it (unreasonable but still, a Fear) and they can See that and Know i’m wrong. That’s a big Shame and Embarrassed feeling for me (i.e. making a fool of myself, which is?? essentially what this is on)

I think throughout my time here... I’ve begun to slowly mend my ideas about that fear. Part of it is because I’ve learnt more, I’m more active in using my skill-sets.

It’s because I have this blog - that I decided I’m going to start it, and it’ll keep me active in learning that I got to build up my skill-set and kept myself in-check from there. I got to interact with different topics and themes, double-check my own understanding of topics/subjects, sure I don’t know anything and everything. All of this is just what I’ve learnt, and me actively learning as I go - and while it was -- Big Fear and Unstable Ground for a while, eventually I learnt to rely more on -- the support system and people who do appreciate you, like you, what they talk about with you. 

You learn to appreciate the systems around you - the ones who interact and likes or ask and talk about stuff. The Fear and Responsibilities gets less and less fearful, because I’ve built trust in others - and it’s a reality check: that not all that’s in my head is good for me. Not even myself and my own thought is as good to me as the reality you live/have around you sometimes. And thats -- a fortunate thing, that’s something to not be taken for granted, and something I have to be thankful for. It directly addresses possible issues I didn’t know I had -- about how much this was weighing on me, by relieving me from it bit by bit as well. 

And that’s what I should note on, because even just a solitary ‘like’ on a social media site-- when you’re scared or unsure of whether you’ve made a right call -- is enough of a support for you to rest a little easier, knowing someone else got what you intended and support you morally as well. 

Standards and Logic: Ideals

I still get Big Fear because of my own ideals - like sometimes I have a mean voice? That just goes ‘you’re an astrology blog - your core/most basic requirement is to KNOW basic facts about astrology’ and then it goes ‘you NOT knowing something about the subject -- something basic, and STILL getting it wrong is absolutely irredeemable’ 

You know what’s the worst part about the mean voice? It’s because it’s my brain, it’s how I reason and logic. This is how I hold my own standards and ideals, and no matter how kind I am to others, my own core self isn’t kind to myself. Fundamentally --- since I couldn’t resolve it, I believe it’s my standard and is underlying in how I treat others too (even if I actively work to Not Let That Happen or Be True, it’s still a part of me).

I don’t want to treat others like that. That’s the scariest part. Part of the reason why it’s so hard - is because we see reason why our mean voice makes sense. To me, that’s objectively the ideal and standard. I already gave it my consent and agreement by understanding it’s logic - and now I fear it.

A part of me just going through this - is confronting this standard issue and my ideals. I think -- all of us who have Big Fear in some ways, understands the logic in just being Good at what you start out to do. Fundamentally, objectively. It kinda makes sense that if you’re going to write about biochem - you should get it right so you don’t fuck up about it. 

But I think you all can tell now - reading it in third person - how you’re allowed to make mistakes? If you’re willing to say that to someone else and understand that-- even if you write about biochem, but you might’ve missed a few marks because you got the answer wrong--- it doesn’t mean you’ve completely jeopardize the subject itself and everyone who’s a master at it. You’ve just made a mistake. And everyone - realistically - realizes how little it matters when you admit or realize you’ve made a whoopsie.

Making Mistakes - Accepting Being Wrong To Not Become an Asshole

A mistake is a mistake, it’s a human error. People fuck up sometimes, but -- we learn from our mistakes. 

It’s just a matter of accepting it in the first place? Being able to accept the mistake is what differentiate being an asshole to actually not letting it hinder you and moving on. 

I think -- just in my case -- I can see why it’s easy to cling on. If you only have your skill-sets to hold onto to, it’s hard to accept any other form of opinions or ideas that challenges it. I think that’s -- ego -- but also defense/offensive action. 

Not -- ‘im offended’ but more like, a tactical offense. I’ve seen people who manipulate others because they only have their skill-sets. Making the audience sway in their narrative and perspectives because they say it’s the ‘truth’ and that they’re knowledgeable or have experiences. I don’t necessarily agree with what they do, but that’s -- not on me, and I don’t care because that’s not something I?? feel comfortable addressing. 

I offered this brief example - because it’s the opposite of ‘well I don’t feel adequate about my knowledge, maybe I shouldn’t say something because I don’t have anything to offer?’ - here’s an example of someone who has knowledge, and is saying something. But is perhaps doing it in a way that isn’t... ideal as well. 

So if you think about the alternative: Which would you rather be? 

We just gotta know how to deal with it and address all the different elements to it as we can (what we’ve touched on earlier: own voice, judgement from others, concrete-starting something and self-expectations, fearful of expectations, not accepting being wrong or making mistakes as an OK thing to do, and how to deal with it kinda)

  Future Embarrassment (Continuous habit of being Embarrassed and Feeling Inadequate About your Skill-sets/Knowledge)

I’ve always thought about this - like how do I stop myself from being embarrassed and ashamed when I can’t fault myself for not knowing before - the only solution I can find for myself is just to do good.

Not suddenly go research and be on top of it with information + overloading myself like That kind of Good-good (‘im good at what I do’ -- not that type of good, confidence in skills doesn’t cover up insecurities and fear, but you can be confident in other areas you can shine light on better about yourself!) 

Do good to me is to chew what I can, say when I can’t, have good intentions and offer the things you CAN give. If it’s insight, clarifications, open-opinions - most people who are coming to you and asking for you are people who appreciates intentions. Just as you expect the same back.

The most consistent thing I’ve ever done is to just be in the mindset of wanting to be good and pushing myself to be good. I’m not saying I’m like -- 100% whole-heartedly a Good Person. But if I just focus on my intent, how it underlines everything, keeping things clear with that intention in mind. As long as I aspire to be good to others, there’s not much else anyone can say to harm me or my motives I think.

Maybe I’m not that good in terms of skill-sets, but more in terms of wanting to do objectively the best that I can, and wanting the best for others. That’s the two things I keep in my mind and goals; in your own heart. Regardless of everything - these two things will keep you going if you truly want and work towards it.

Comparison to others/Inadequacy 

I think that to others - maybe other people who have the same goal in mind; maybe same heart, maybe this would mean to do what they can and perhaps they are capable of achieving skill-sets, overcoming insecurities with knowledge and Not Feel Overwhelmed. 

But I know that’s not for me? Not how I work or the best I can offer - of course I attempt it too and yeah it works sometimes, but my constant and my ideas haven’t been about being right or correct whenever I post or say something (although I strive to try and do it right, as much as I can) -- it’s always been about realistically - what can I do, what can I give that’s 100% me and what’s needed/capable of doing?  

It’s hard because there’s also -- ideals about what IS the best solution. Like when presented with the same problems, same ask. You have two different people who share the same ideals and thoughts - both agreeing that the best way is to do it ‘like this’ - but one does it better and the other watches it knowing they couldn’t have executed it as flawlessly. 

And maybe you’re the other - but that, doesn’t make it any less obvious when you see it in third-person that the other person has their own gift and methods that is just as valuable as the one who did the good execution. They provide and support one another, just have to find their wings and respect, appreciate and cherish (lift up) one another’s skill-sets and capabilities as well.

It’s hard to apply it back to yourself -- that your thoughts, words and knowledge is valuable to anyone or that it’s Not lacking in some ways. What you see of yourself - there’s others who sees it in a more tender way than you do. What you can control, and what you can do best, is to not expect yourself to be unrealistic - but expect to be realistic about what you can provide, if all else fails, anyways. 

Stick to your guns - I’m basically just trying to say that. The feeling of inadequacy (that’s literally the core of it, underneath the shame) is fine -- and yeah. I don’t have? I’ve written alot but I hope this comes through well. 

I’m working through it but I hope, this helps a little. If you’ve read it at all. It’s long and rambly, but I hope this -- helps? Anyone else? Or just myself who’s working through it. But -- I hope this gives strength or support to anyone who needs it. Thanks for reading if you’ve read!!!

#personal #psa #update #pt.2 #oooof long #queue-t

[aresfaeries]

Meet the lady behind me blog

I'm not sure if i ever did one for this blog to begin with, so here goes everything and all nonsense. (Sorry this is long and a large amount of info is pointless. I'll bold key words)

I'm a 20 year old college student from the USA and a newly made football fan. You can thank my usual frat for this. I'm also in a sorority. Okay, yikes! To redeem myself: info about my campus: small liberal arts college nerds. We party, but we're really really lame and mostly play video games or watch master chef.

Anywho my birthday is september 14th, i use she/her pronouns and I ID as aro-spec ace. I have a lovely s/o, Jim, and we've been dating for a year and a half-ish.

My hobbies include tennis, language learning, singing, writing, and more recently, hand embroidery. I'm a double major in International Studies (area studies concentration is Africa) and Asian Cultural Studies. My minor is french.

What do I wanna do? Travel and teach english for a hot sec, get my masters/PhD, and also go into the foreign service or work in an intl. Non-profit for language preservation.

My religion

Ha ha okay so i grew up Catholic, and still practice when I'm home for breaks. But currently i more ID with being a Hellenic Polytheist. My main deities are Ares and Aphrodite, but i have worked with others including Hekate, Poseidon and Athena. In the future i want to get to know Hermes as well since my career will include a lot of travelling.

Craft-wise, i ID with the term I coined: "seasonal fae witch", meaning that i only practice that during the summer due to my job as a camp counselor during that season. I also ID with the term nocturnal witch bc I work with umbra energy. I don't work with a night deity, but I've been meaning to reach out to Selene. I would like to be an air witch, and feel the calling, but I haven't been able to properly put myself in the craft past my altar for it.

I do divination through tarot and pendulum and occasionally do it for people on here, but it depends on the questions i get. On my main blog, a kpop blog, i do prediction readings to determine people's biases. Lately ive been self involved in my life so I've barely touched my tools.

I do suffer from PTSD, severe anxiety, adhd, paranoia, chronic nightmares, and visual and audio(?) hallucinations that i currently classify as my clairaudience and an overactive imagination because I need to feel sane as i am not in a position to see a clinical psychologist. I mention my mental illnesses because depending on my headspace, I'm easily triggered, so this is a friendly reminder to tag things that might trigger me or others. My triggers very so i don't have a definitive list besides 'ace discourse' and also anything explicit targeted at me.

Speaking of tagging, PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF THERE'S A TAG YOU SPECIFICALLY WANT ME TO USE. That way I don't trigger you either.

I'll update this periodically if something comes up or changes.

I don't wanna put a pic of me bc there's already a lot floating on my blog.

#mara mumbles #meet the blogger #important #about me #ive hit some mile stones so heres useless information #if you have follow up questions please ask away! #if you need advice about anything #you can ask #witchblr #witchcraft

[whatismeta-blog]

To the Anon, who Asked the Asks

1) what was your first delusion

Honestly, I think I might still be working through it. But like it might not be, so like...

Welcome welocome, the answers get better I swear

2) have you ever had your choice taken away by the psychiatric system

: Not really, I never really spent to much time in any systems due to paranoia of the system, probably because of the stigma around it and pop culture fueling a strong sense of danger in it, and just my lack of any real wealth in my past and present

3) how do you cope with your hallucinations

: Painfully ignoring them in almost everyway I can, which, has often lead to me ignoring something happening around me, or directed at me cause I thought It wasn't real. Other than that I find physical grounding, and specifically martial arts helps make my overall disorder more positive in tone

4) are you professionally diagnosed with a psychotic disorder

: I was professionally diagnosed back when's was about 14 or 15, after a few sessions the doctor said I probably had schizophrenia and prescribed me some anti psychotics

5) how often do you shower

: About once (1) or twice (2) a week honestly, I need to take more. But I've been getting better

6) to what extent are you "out" as psychotic

: I'm about half way, most of my old friends and family have no knowledge, but my current living people all know, my boyfriend knows, and a couple people the I've had some long nights with know, and my entire blog

7) have you ever had a funny or cute hallucination

8) how old were you when you were first diagnosed (or figured it out yourself)

:when my sister went to North star when I was in like 3rd grade, and my mum tried to explain it to me why my sister was inpatient, I specifically remember that imentioned i thought something might be wrong with me too, but since I was outwardly disruptive, just "quiet" my mum found no need

9) how old were you when you first started having symptoms

So issues with Speech is a commonly overlooked symptom of schizophrenia, as a in my case I feel more cognitive issue, and I think that my early childhood and that I had a speech therapist cause of my young selective autism, and just inability to speak right might've been my first symptoms

10) do you reclaim any words associated with your disorder

: I honestly don't really think I do, I want to though -> Paranoid, I use a lot though, caus like Fuck am.I paranoid, and psychotic, but I use that more clinically,

11) do you feel emotions intensely or hardly at all

: Harldy at all, I just, I may only be 22, but I'm just really tired and old, but if an emotion can start shining through strongly it kind of starts to engulf me, especially at night

12) do you have a hard time making yourself understood

: so much, it's lessened some over the years, but so many times after trying to get words out, (I tend to speak fast and with a sometimes interesting vocabulary) and I'm just still really bad at using English to express specifically emptions, which only makes me feel worse cause wow have I fucked things up trying to say something and someoneisunderstanding me

13) which symptoms of your disorder impair you the most

: negative symptoms, that cause me to just be very distant as a person mentally and presently, and I think overall paranoia, or even sometimes like, meta-paranoid <-

14) do you usually have some insight when you're actively psychotic

:When I'm hallucinating, I'd say I generally do, but when I am delusional, I usually don't, but I kinda always think that there is a chance I'm being psychotic so I try and stay on my toes. If ya know what's mean

15) is there a situation you can laugh at which was a scary time

16) do you think your psychosis is related to trauma

: it possibly could be, but I don't believe that if I didn't have trauma that I wouldn't still be psychotic

17) do you have any co-morbid disorders

:probably, I try not to worry to much about what's all wrong. I just try and make it all work together

18) what is you're exact diagnosis if you have one

Do to the people who diagnosed me as schizophrenic loosing their thing. Due to.insurance purposes, I have no diagnosis on file. Last time I went in a couple years back to a new doctor they said I should get evaluated, but like, I could barely afford what I had already been there for

19) when did you start think you might be psychotic

Before I can remember

20) is there a history of psychosis in your family

:I've don't know to much of my family or their histories, but my mum is paranoid and has anxiety. And my older sister is autism spectrum, and so mental health is in the family

21) do you have inappropriate emotions or reactions

Less inappropriate as in lewd, but more of, absent, or like, when I first was told someone close to me (human) died, I didn't ever cry once for them, I don't think I have to this day, not to say I wouldn't cry for everybody close to me, but like yeah, and like when answering personal questions I think I react a lot more deflectively. Or like, hell, my partner told me they loved me for the first time, and though I honestly wanted to say it back, I just didn't, I honestly don't remember what I said. And Tbh still kinda feel shitty about that interaction..

22)do you relate to any characters bc they might have a psychotic disorder

Fucking,

River tam from firefly, (like yeah, she has like actual powers and shit, but Damn, it kinda affects her similarly)

23) do you have a song you listen to when.you need to calm down

Lullaby for a stormy night, ever-changing by rise against

24) do you have a song you relate to psychosis

:first one I could think of is "World in a bottle" by Anavae

25) what traits do you want to see in a canonically psychotic character

Negative symptoms, dissociation, And a few happy Fucking stories for us please

26) do you have a recurring delusion or hallucination

:oh boy do I, I'm honestly still coming to terms with a long time life held delusion, and that's a fun thing to do without therapy let me tell you, here do come Nov. 17

27) would you get rid of your psychotic disorder if you.could)

: if, it could be a little more manageable that would be nice, but, honestly, not being psychotic ever again.. now that sounds kinda scary too

28) do you take anti-psychotic, why?

:no prescription grade, but I do my best to self medicate, if you can, don't follow my example

29) how is your memory

:well I've been going back and forth writing the numbers and questions now, and I read the ask, switched form my photos to the tumble app, and then forgot, so. Bonus fact, this is the first ask i answered in this line

30) what how through your head when you hear "cute but psycho"

Honestly I see hear the Word psycho and almost every time I get upset, but like unless they're psychotic, and okay with you referring to them as such. It just makes me upset

31) do you experience time distortion

According to general laws of physics time dilates, so yeah I do what of it?

Serious answer though, yeah,

Like say my first 4 month into being in my current city, I had a mental fall back, and went back home for a 2 maybe three months,

That first fronts in this city, was actually 4 days, and part of my waking routine is checking the date and time to make sure that I am in the know on what year and day it's supposed to be

#anon #ask

[startswithat-blog]

Nov 8th

song of choice: Come on Eileen absolute banger and Happier forgot who it’s by

I truly don't understand how my life turned out this way Gods really out here want ing Todd and Tony for me when he knows in my heart that I want Kayla and Travis life is wild man I'm telling you

things with me and T are getting worse? better? weird might be a better word

quick recap that relates to this current situation: were snapping back and forth like we normally do and out of nowhere he calls me cute? cutie to be exact i swear I have deeprooted psychological problems bc even tho I MIGHT be catching feelings it still makes me uncomfortable and I think I'm somewhat past the short thing so idk maybe him being bold and calling me cute is making it all too real for me and questioned it and said since when and he goes wait for it

EVER SINCE HE SAW ME ON THE GC

I've already freaked out about this so I've processed but idk what's wrong with me I go my entire 18 years of life wanting a bf, so, ting whatever just to be kinda close to it and freak out idk 

the facts are I wouldn't snap someone back and forth like this if there wasn't something they're not feelings but a simple liking of who he is as a person

I just wanted us to be just friends from jump but you can't do that when someones caught feelings but as I've previously explained I have no clue if these are real or just a result of my I like people who like me mantra and past trauma

so back to it the conversation drifts and I bring up him calling me cute and he asks me if I want him to stop and instead of taking the out I was given (i have problems) I say and I quote “lol nah ur good” I'm a dumb bitch for the record

idk if its the secret attention-seeking Leo inside of me, or me liking him or id just miss the attention too much whatever it is my main reason for saying what I said is bc I didn't want to seem rude? i guess

I have a problem with that not so much a pushover but a people pleaser i don't like saying things that might upset other people or disagree with them its sometimes one of my worst habits and it was so bad in 9th and 10th grade bc I'm almost certain it cost me a crush *see JJ part of my life for reference* ill never know for sure tho and the whole me having a whole crush on F just for him to get with some 12th grade freak (his words not mine) bc I wouldn't suck his dick -- okay I don't know that for sure but it sure felt like it bc it was super weird after but paranoia and anxiety disorder aside lets continue 

also being calling me cute or attractive or whatever makes me mad uncomfortable I've never been self-conscious I don't think but I've never seen myself that way and when tinder boys say it it means nothing bc they'll prob say it to anything with tits but when people I've talked to for a long period of time i.e. snapping and they start having feelings for me based on my personality that's where they get me *see Mitchell* and it makes me wayy too uncomfortable like I like a compliment and think its sweet but all the time makes it weird anyway

I said he's good which gives him the green light to continue (big mistake) 

So here's where today plays in were snapping like normal and he comes back out with that cute shit telling me to come to res and smoke with emojis (which also makes me hella uncomfortable bc they're cringe but ok) and I'm like nah moving on hes high ordering food I said don't die as a joke tell me why homeboy replies along the lines of “don't worry I can't I need to meet you, smoke with you and cuff you” I wish I could insert a reaction gif bc omg 

I didn't know what to say and so I joke and say he's bold BOLD which he is bc wtf and he doesn't let me out of it and asks if that's bad 

it's not bad but stop doing it bri says that I should be honest but I don't wan to lose him as a friend I guess

so i answered saying I'm not looking to be cuffed and he took forever to respond and I don't want to open it and I can't even talk to this dumb bitch about it bc shes deciding that she wants to go to bed early for once so I'm gonna open it and be back I also have to pee

-come on Eileen enthusiast and national lil bitch 

also that reaction gif i mentioned earlier below