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piviani · 2 years

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enhypen members current energies

( disclaimer: please do remember to take my readings with a grain of salt. i am in no way a professional tarot reader and all of this are alleged and is for entertainment purposes only. )

note: sorry for the long wait i had some more important business to do :’) + they all had kinda similar cards if we look it that way

yang jungwon

the sun - eight of swords

(the contrast with the two cards..) so i have two interpretations, its either jungwon is currently faking his happiness for the sake of his image these days due to the public, but actually gets pretty overwhelmed, and anxiety immediately kicks off cam, because of what is currently going on in his life, which makes him think negatively as well. or — even though he’s happy with what enhypen is currently going on; their popularity, achievements and all that, he just cant seem to do, because, lets think like this — as in metaphor; something, or someone is imaginary caging him up. and jungwon feels locked and hopeless with it. its like the feeling of something is stopping you from speaking and running, with another hand in your mouth and wrist, and you are struggling to breathe and it becomes heavy. heart thumping. (emphasis the imaginary/or methapor! its not literal that someone is physically caging him up.) thats what jungwon current energy is these days. he cant seem to let it out, he feels powerless and suffocated. he thinks there’s no way out of this situation. . and these negative thoughts he thinks aint helping him in any way either.

lee heeseung

ace of cups in reverse - knight of wands in reverse

all reverse.. so anyway with the cards, heeseung seems to feel empty and frustrated these days, due to feeling of like he isnt doing anything. just the same with jungwon, he feels stuck as well. but the difference is he feels frustrated with it. thats what his current energy is. he thinks he isnt going anywhere. theres lack of direction and thinking. hes always changing his mind and path after one another. theres no clear direction which way to go, and its making him feel many emotions, which is sadness. its possible that he feels unloved these days too, he thinks theres no one who supports and loves him, he feels alone. or just, things he once loved and held so much are now not giving him any happiness like it did back then. just like with people, or kpop stans for example, you lose the spark you thought you wouldn’t with this specific group. its an unexpected feeling, and you just cant seem to know what do, or how to deal with it. and thats what he currently feels. his mood feels down. there’s lots of blocked energy currently. he needs to stop these overthinking and just go with the flow, just as the way are from the start. (why are virgo ppl such overthinkers SCRATCHES HEAD)

park jongseong

knight of swords in reverse - two of swords

jay’s current energy screams impatience, aggressiveness, recklessness, and holding back, (or feeling stuck,). (ok seriously whats with them these days? he is feeling many emotions at once i dont know how to write this down lmfao. but anyway) there seems to be questions that needs answers and choices to make and he doesn’t know the both answers and which way to take, or go, due to lack of information with the said circumstances, or specifically a situation which is making him confused, struggle and angry all at once. he is feeling many emotions that a possible mood swings could happen. there might be a sudden burst of emotions happening too. if he got too caught up with things he might really actually burst and lash out. similar with heeseung and jungwon, jay is thinking and feeling like theres no end. he is currently facing some challenges stuffs, which he needs to be aware and cautious of.

sim jaeyun

the foul - nine of cups in reverse

the foul is generally a positive card.. but with the 9oC as the other it seems to be that some new beginnings or opportunities came up with jake. however he seems to still feel unfulfilled. though he should be actually happy, he thinks it isnt enough yet, that it lacks, that there should be more still. he feels that there is something missing, but the problem is he is having problems pointing it out. or just simply that he cant seem to point it out. he may have been lost to what he truly wants and whats important to him, due to the mindset that he needs to constantly chase and impress the fans and the people, or in other words, the public. seems to be that public opinions matter to him? he worries about it. jake might struggle with achieving his dreams. could indicate he lacks confidence and has low esteem as well. hes a bit lost right now actually.

park sunghoon

king of wands - three of cups in reverse

with the KoW, unlike the other members, sunghoon seems to be focusing on his career these days—flourishing and developing on his career, finding opportunities here and there, could be possible that hes now stepping away from bullshits lol. he’s now moving forward and is having clear visions and intents on what he truly wants. its possible that he might be not the type to go with the flow to be honest as he has his big dreams to achieve, that at times could be unrealistic, but slowly by slowly, he might actually achieve it. he is now going through a phase where he is learning, and maturing. however, he might still feel alone at times though. theres a sense of feeling isolated. he might have mood swings at times too. and also sunghoon might have to watch out with his dreams at it could cause inbalance in his life, due to the lack of focus on the other things he might have to actually focus on too as well. he is getting too busy with his career that he cant have time for others which could be his family, friends, and even for himself as well. (lmfao this is why hes never beating the bitchless allegations /j) (ive also noticed all of them are career focused im like.. wow but okay good for them ig)

kim sunoo

king of cups in reverse - the moon in reverse

oh no.. it seems to be that sunoo is feeling overwhelmed with the things currently going on with his own life. as i much as i dont want to say this, his anxiety is only going higher, and its possible he’s at his worst right now, too. he can be controlled by his emotions, and could possibly accidentally hurt others with his actions and words. might lash out at random times, and might control others as well. could be controlling due to stress. his head is not currently in straight. im sensing that there’s feelings of type of fear. hes scared he might be misunderstood by everyone and even himself. and even sunoo wants to badly go pass this, but he cant seem to do so, as he is scared to take that step. hes not even sure anymore to be honest. everything is just as confusing as it is. its possible that he feels insecure as well. theres lots of going on here.. (they all have similar problems 😵‍💫)

riki nishimura

the tower - five of cups

oh wow, i honestly thought all enha have been atleast doing fine as they seem happy these days.. but anyway moving on . . sudden, unexpected change— or things occurred which has now caused riki . . to have a sort of trauma, or simply sadness. he’s now in despair. his head is now in chaos. and just as ive said with jungwon as well earlier, riki focusing on the negativity isnt helping him in any way at all but is only increasing the over-thinking. he is now questioning everything; if he was right, or wrong, whats real and whats not. from what i am seeing things that happened took a toll on him. theres no escaping. he needs to let it free and focus now on the present; now. what happened in the past cannot be change — and thats in fact true. he needs to trust himself and let it all out. this is all part of growing. its now the time for him to take this chance as a way to replace and change himself for the more better self thst is full of positivity, and i mean this in the nicest way possible.

[ reading was made in aug 8, 2022. ]

#kpop tarot #kpop #enhypen #enhypen tarot #yang jungwon #lee heeseung #park jongseong #sim jaeyun #jake sim #park sunghoon #kim sunoo #riki nishimura #nishimura riki

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painsandconfusion · 1 year

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i have to write a short story for english and i was wondering if you had any tips for writing someone who is having a mental breakdown and just cant deal with normal things. (my example is a ticking clock and theyre just going crazy mad because they cant stand the ticking any longer)

kind of weird but u r good at this stuff sooooooo

❤️❤️❤️❤️

Oh yea, I got you, boo!!

Make every feeling and sound have a physical grounding. Parallel the ticking of the clock to the pounding of their heartbeat in their ears. Play them against each other.

Play with the formatting to enhance the stressors as you go. eg:

X clamped their hands over their ears, but it didn't stop. It never st- tick -opped. It rattled against the inside of their skull, each beat st- Tick -opping their thoughts. stranding th- Tick. -em in a sea of jittering, clicks. Each more abbras- TICK. -sive than the last. (not very careful writing but you see how it builds with that? you can parallel your character's state of mind with the manifestation of the external factors taking up more or different space like that)

Start small. The bigger the issue, the smaller you should write. Instead of, say, freaking out over a death they just witnessed, talk about how impossible it is for X to force air down their throat, how their lungs convulse and clamp down, not letting them drag in a full breath. the panic builds from there. Both in sensation, building tension from the lack of breathing, and the displaced anxiety letting the original source go unchecked.

I love rhythm and alliteration assonance in stuff like this. eg:

"The silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain thrilled me, filled me with terrors ne'er felt before. So that to still the beating of my heart, I stood, repeating: tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door..." -Poe, The Raven ((See how those consonants hit hard? the rhythm they create? it mirrors the frantically beating heart in that panicked moment))

Take your time. Don't structure the scene by actions that happen. Let a single second drag into a paragraph. Describe every overwhelming sensation and how it beats against their brain, drowning them, suffocating them, corralling them and shoving them down until all they can see is the blur of the world spinning away without them.

Don't be afraid of that internal monologue or the metaphors X might pull up in your mind. Let them come and let them take over. It seems counterintuitive but it works. Especially if something horrific is happening and you want to show them dissociating a bit? eg:

Chaos was a funny thing. It wasn’t chaotic as it should be. It was controlled. Measured. A burst of lighting that wouldn’t rip through the skin. Contained to her - her nerves. Her bones. Her ripping ligaments. Her lungs that refused to scream. His words - his rules and his hands. Everything so out of control. Yet, everything measured and portioned. Contained. Even when harnessed, forced into the rules of the universe, the fire ripped through her. It gave no heed to the logic. It didn’t care that the pain would stop in a few moments. It didn’t falter at the wrongness of her bones jamming out of place, sliding and creaking against each other and snapping apart. It just grew. It ate through her blood. Her air. It sucked her lungs dry and folded her legs until she was tumbling to the ground. Cement bruising against bone. Her cheek pressed against the icy wall. ((Chaos))

Alright love, I think that's all the ideas I have for right now, but feel free to hit me up if you'd like more tips or a proofread!!

Good luck have fun!!

#sand asks #writing tips #writing advice #whump writing

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siriusmydeer · 3 years

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can you please do headcanons for young sirius black x reader fic where reader has really bad anixety attacks where sometimes she feels nauseous

breathe with me

sirius black x gender neutral!reader

summary: sirius helps you through an anxiety attack.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: MENTIONS OF VOMITING!!, mentions of gagging, anxiety/anxiety attack, over stress, mentions of digging nails into your palms (borderline indications), mentions of failing school/exams, migraines, mentions of pain killers, mentions of feeling gross, possible insecurity, sirius comforting reader

a/n: so i turned this into a fic rather than hc’s because i felt like i could portray it better through a fic. also dedicated to isa ( @acosmis-t ) my love bc i cant write so thank u baby for helping me !

“Argh.” You piercingly groaned with a hand lowered to your febrile forehead, a feverish burn arising to the skin. The day had steadily been cut close to the final bell. Your Transfiguration exam had finally been completed and not without weary, of course. The prior nights you had been found asleep with drool pooling down your tear-tainted cheek and your talons promptly sunken into your palms as a desperate endeavour to relieve your stress. (Although it had not been the best choice, and at some points rather painful)

The piling books glared fiercely at you in the library till Madam Pince undoubtedly had to beckon you away, so you could sufficiently rest. Indeed then, your unconscious mind was piled in dreadful dreams (More-so nightmares) regarding critical failure and your pleaded requests to Mcgonagall, so you could re-attempt your failed exams.

Your polished nails had been essentially glued to your pearly teeth, chomping at the rarebit till there was nothing left to bite. The strums of your heart steadily increased as the last final students had cautiously worked on their assessments. You had patiently waited, subtly noticing your brawny throat becoming excessively dry as well as well as your diaphragm contracting by the minor second, an indistinguishable bile substance threatening to overtake the taste buds on your parched tongue.

A small, minuscule tap in the nape of your skull had increased to small needles swimming around your brain while the time ticked.

Sirius had been sitting in Charms flipping away at ‘Quidditch Through the Ages’ anxiously as he had to withhold himself from darting nervously out of his class and inquire how you were feeling with a knowing sense of how the rest of the day would take place. He had been made quite aware of your particular issue in the Third Year when you had disgorged your lunch, Shepherd's Pie that you had previously eaten had been hurled onto his Oxford’s his noble family spent a pretty penny to purchase.

At McGonagall's constructive dismissal, you had collected your materials and begun to walk cautiously through the corridors with your books clutched eagerly to your chest.

A slight increase in your breaths began to inflate your lungs and the steadily increasing heart strums became an overwhelming palpitation deafening your ears. Your heart had battered in your chest; nearing closer, and closer to your dormitory. Your hands had begun to develop a slight tremor at the anxious vibrations poisoning your blood, whilst your vision began to mildly obscure. You needed a moment to recollect yourself, a minute to breathe.

You had murmured a small, ‘Fairy Lights’ to the portrait before trudging up the stairs and colliding into the dormitory. The hinges had creaked whilst you abruptly had shut the door, luckily nobody was present to allegedly witness your exertion. Your bedroom had frequently remained tidy, a typical symptom of your anxiety that had obsessively pursued you to attempt your very hardest, even better than your very hardest, at everything and anything.

You had stood center in your room venturing for the hostile seizing in your bones to cease for at least a moment. Your chest had felt tight, like a tensed muscle that had been pulled after an unusually hard sport.

You had walked toward your window and back Window, and back. Window, and back. Again, Again and Again.

Your nails are placed between the mild edges of your teeth. The cavern of your mouth almost feeling obstructed by the bile mingling around with your parched throat. At the incessant pacing of your feet, there had been a remaining thud in your thick skull adding to your misery.

The small gust of wind was the singular audible sound in the dormitory as one of your dorm mates had abandoned it open. Your brain had felt like it swelled beyond generating capacity now your mild dehydration was too obvious to ignore like you had planned to do. You had deliberated with your eyes closed and your face contorted into a frown, you would’ve had to trudge to the kitchens for a possible amount of comfort in your state. You had groaned again, your hand promptly placed over your face, as you traipsed across the room, attempting to comfort yourself, in a sense.

Perhaps some painkillers spewed on the bathroom counter that you had previously taken before your exam could help you. Your neck had begun to sear in heat the hair that was almost clung to your nape, you raised your heavy eyelids halfway only for them to fall shut a twinging pain beginning to naturally arise behind your optics. You huffed with a minuscule gag, too much effort it would take to stroll around the school in the huffing state you were currently in, a migraine still revelling in your mind. Maybe later, you thought with a creased brow. You had heard the hinges creak again, incorrectly assuming one of your dorm mates had been back. Except your dorm mates didn’t possess the baritone of a burly male.

“Y/n” He whispered tenderly, attempting not to disturb your pacing.

“Not now.”

He had partaken notice to your mindful scratches against your neck, continuously pulling up the hair only for it to fall once more. You had paused for a moment with a tremor in your finger that was trapped between your teeth. A familiar distortion of torture wrapping around your throat like a snake that was threatening to suffocate you; your respires heavier and more frequent. He had begun speaking, a blubber of words escaping his trachea. Yet, all jumbled like alphabet soup in your brain between his dismembered sentences.

You suspired heavily in frustration, “Just— Shut up! Please.” You begged in exasperation. Still prying your hair from your neck, you stood frozen, discontentment building in your system.

He had noticed the black hair tie absentmindedly clung to his wrist whenever you had asked for one. Steadily walking towards your paused figure he had gathered your hair in the tie, your neck feeling the refreshing air against it; a slight relief applied against your skin. You promptly initiated to remove your robe, there was a warm discerning grip on your body overheating your arms as well as your midriff due to the uniform.

With a violent tremor in your fingers, you started grasping at the buttons, a mild frustration initiating at the fact you couldn’t pop them open due to the recurrent quiver in your digits. Sirius had removed your hands from your robe, hastily unbuttoning it before you hurled it aside.

“How 'bout we go to the bathroom, Hmm?” He cooed while beckoning you into the bathroom, noticing the tremor in your body as well as your fidgeting fingers that were twiddling between each other. He had turned the sink on, switching the handle left where a blue spot differentiated the colours. Delicately, he grasped your trembling wrists and ran them beneath the cooling water. “Just… Feel gross.”You murmured to yourself as he ran a few fingers under the downpour, placing his frigid fingers behind your neck.

Your shoulders faintly shrugged at the sensation while he turned off the water and let your hands air dry, helping you not feel solidified by anything. During his movement, you had grasped onto his fingers where a few heirloom rings had fit snugly on his fingers, “Tell me about them.” This was a technique he had created in an effort of distraction at the uprising feelings of disgust for yourself bound to erupt at any moment.

“There’s a B, I guess. Erm, engraving, swirls and stuff…” You trailed off while attempting to decipher the designs in the ring that was on his forefinger.“S’too much! Just wanna— Dunno, not feel like this anymore!”

He had partaken scrutiny to your physical tics as well as your body language, with a faint clutch on two of your fingers he had hauled you to the very center of your dormitory. Within a few inches of each other, he had mauled your hand over his sternum. You felt the heavy respires in his chest as well as the vibrations melding with your palm as he spoke, “Breathe with me.”

You had stood there, minutes, maybe almost an hour, time was now pushed to the very nooks and crannies of your mind. The surges of perturbation still prominently surging through your veins to the density of your bones, the recurrent tremble still foremost notable but the buckling of your knees had calmed down as well as the faint chatter of your teeth. Still copying his sluggish breathing, you looked deep into his pear irises, his optics having a settling effect, a tingling reassurance reflecting in them. In the sunlight state that had remained in your room due to the unclosed curtains, there had been cerulean hues caught in that state.

Sirius’ eyes had been crafted like delicate feathers that were used for quills, not the albino kind of dove feathers, but the ones with a hue so softly grey that they could have been pencil-drawn rather than used by a quill with smeared stygian ink. They had that look of birds flying on sunlit days, the shine and quick movement, yet relaxed, purposeful, at ease.

“Can we sit?” You questioned quietly after removing your hand from his chest, hesitantly grabbing onto two of his fingers as he had previously done with you. “Anything you want.” He replied in a murmur, craning his head left, then right, trying to figure out where to beckon you into a seated position.

You had sat upon the wooden floor. The flooring designs similar to a chorus of browns; they sang together, an acapella of baritone hues that rose into vibrant soprano notes. It was a fitting place for a dormitory where laughter could normally be discerned, a place for those new sounds to soak right in and join the spirit that was already there when you had first entered the dormitory your first year.

“Here?”

“Mhm.” You nodded your head scarcely as he sat next to you. You sighed for a moment, placing a minimal amount of your temple against his shoulder, feeling the similar respires soothe you. “Here.”

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jackie5656 · 3 years

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Always Here With;Diego Hargreeves

A/n: Aha, ha ha. Heyyyy so I maybe sort of had a huge wave of anxiety tonight and wasn’t doing too great. So, in a desperate effort to relieve some of what I was feeling I wrote all of this in one go. It really helped, and I hope it might help you. I’m being pretty vulnerable here but what the hell. Anyways, enjoy.

TW: anxiety/ mild anxiety attack/ all that scary stuff so pls don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable!

It’s too damn quiet, the dark sleepy room is without a sound. It’s killing you, because as you head rests on the cool pillow below you all you can hear is your heart pumping, pushing blood all throughout you and into your skull. Usually, the stillness of it all would soothe you. Not tonight though. Tonight your mind can’t seem to stop racing, mulling over moments in your life that you figure anyone else would have forgotten by now. It’s harder to breathe, your damn lungs simply can’t collect enough oxygen between breaths. Sometimes, you wonder if the good moments in life are worth still being around for when, all too often, anxiety slithers it’s way throughout your brain and worms into your body. Every limb, every loose hair, tingles with each beat of your heart and god damn it if it doesn’t stop you’re convinced you’ll yell out one desperate shriek that begs this feeling away.

The steady breathing accompanied with a careful shift beside you aids in the realization that you aren’t alone in this god-forsaken state. Diego sleeps soundly beside you, and you try to push down the raging envy you feel for someone being able to doze off in blissfull peace. Why can’t you drift off like everyone else, why can’t you be normal? The moisture welling in your eyes makes the panic increase, fuck you’re so sensitive. Chewing on the corner of your thumb by default, the thoughts are pushed to the side when he stirs. You lay back down as he wakes, hoping he’ll doze back off and he’s not burdened by your current state. The silence continues, the stillness of the once familiar, comforting room haunts you as you anticipate the continuation of his steady breathing.

“What’s wrong?” The soft words fizzle out into the air, and you’re not totally convinced he’s actually spoken until he turns on his side to look at you. Fuck.

“Hmm? Nothing, I jus-just cant sleep.” You might have been convincing if it weren’t for the pathetically shaky tone or the crack in your voice as you reply.

“You’re shivering, and you’ve been awake for the past 15 minutes.” Damn him and his light-sleeper ass. Oh, you really were shaking. How long has he been awake? Immediately, guilt consumes you and the dread of worrying him becomes suffocating. You’re a burden.

“Y/n.” The three rasp in his voice snaps you out of it once more. Sitting up and shifting uncomfortably, you wrack your brain for a reply that will convince him to leave you alone.

“I jus-I won’t stop thinking. It doesn’t stop Di, it never stops!” In an award winning attempt to reassure him, a hiccup escapes your body and you’re overcome with sobs as the emotion forces itself out of you.

Diego’s shooting up in a flash, shocked at your sudden outburst but immediately grabbing onto your hips in a panicked effort to ground you. Bring you back to him, shield you from every thought or worry that fills your mind so you’re safe. He has to protect you.

“H-hey, hey. Please don’t cry baby, I’m here. I p-promise.” Fuck, if all the times he’s internally begged to speak freely, he could really use it right about now. But the shock of your sudden outburst has imploded his nervous system. With a quick shake of his head, he relaxes himself in order to communicate. He needs to be calm. He needs to level with you.

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. Please just go back to bed Diego. I didn’t mean to wake you.” Your quiet pleas shatter his heart into pieces. And he wishes more than anything you two could trade places.

“I’m not going anywhere. You can talk to me. Please baby, just talk to me.” He doesn’t know what he should do with his arms, debating whether or not you’ll feel overwhelmed by physical touch in your state. Your sniffle and shaken intake of breathe interuppts his thoughts.

“Im just so tired. So, so tired. I don’t want to feel this way anymore. I don’t think I can take it. I w-want everything to stop, it’s all moving so fast and I can’t fucking catch up! I’m tread-treading water Diego and I don’t know how long I can last.”

His eyes widen at your words, and he’s relieved you’re not facing him so you won’t be able to read his expression. Why hadn’t he known you were feeling this way? Had he pushed aside your body language, your attitude lately? Why didn’t he see you were in so much pain? All this time he was always alert for anything that could cause you physical harm. He’s seen enough shit to know this world is way too brutal for someone as good as you. But, despite protecting you from things on the outside, you were really being attacked from the inside. His stomach churns at the thought, and his arms wrap around you and pull you into his lap.

Your sobs falter at the embrace, and his tight hold on you brings a piece of you back to Earth. His warmth, his scent, envelopes your senses and weakens the the sobs escaping you.

Diego’s never been too good with words. And he so wishes he was able to communicate all the reassurances that are racing through his mind. Hopefully, his actions will successfully communicate all he’s trying to say.

“Is this okay?” You nod at his words, pushing your face further into his neck in an attempt to drown out the noise ricocheting through your mind.

“G-good. This is good.” You mutter, feeling soothed when you realize he’s slowly rocking you.

“Can you do me a favor and tell me one thing you see in the room?” He’s hesitant to ask, trying to remeber what his mom used to say when he’d become overwhelmed with his stutter.

“The-the photo of us on the b-bedside table.”

“Good, that’s good baby. That was your birthday last year. You looked so pretty in that dress, I’m pretty sure Klaus and Allison begged you to wear it.” Diego recalls, heart warming at the small giggle you let out through the sniffles and shaky breaths.

“How about one thing you smell?”

“Your body wash. It smells like...like cinnamon and a little bit of vanilla.” He smiles at your words, heart filling with adoration and pride for you. You’re doing so good for him.

“Okay, you’re doing awesome. Can you tell me one thing you feel?”

“Your heart beating...and your skin. You, I feel y-you.”

You’re relaxed now, and you shuffle impossibly closer to Diego as he hums softly. Blinking slowly, you notice how your eyelids start to droop as he continues softly swaying the both of you. Silence fills the room once more, but it’s warm. And it doesn’t feel so lonely or heinous as it did before.

“Thank you.” Your voice is so soft, and it sounds so little Diego longs to hold you forever. Not letting go so you never have to feel anything but peaceful. You deserve so much, he only wishes you’d realize you’re worth his entire world and then some.

“No need to thank me baby. I’m here, I’m always here.”

You’re filled with warmth, and you embrace the tranquility that finally consumes you. He’s here, and he’s not going anywhere.

#fanfic #imagines #fiction #wattpad #writing #tua s2 #tua netflix #diego hargreeves imagines #diego hargreeves #number two #umbrella acedmy #the umbrella academy #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #tua ben #vanya hargreeves #umbrella academy imagine #Diego Hargreeves x reader

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skelanonymous · 4 years

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Day 5 - Size Difference

I’m working on Orgasm Denial, Monsterfucking, and the long game of the Body Swap one. Might do a few more short ones tho.

Day Five - Size Difference - Kustard (Bara!Sans)

“Are you sure about this Red?” Sans stared down at his very nervous boyfriend. Red took a few deep breaths, backing up to look up at his task at hand.

Sans was almost twice his height, and twice his width. Sans’s hands covered half of his ribcage. Sitting in his lap, Sans could kiss the top of his head, but only if he bent his neck down. Kissing him was almost suffocating at times, and Red’s attempts at oral had always ended in something that Sans found adorable but Red found frustrating.

“Yeah, I just gotta work up to it.” Red climbed up into Sans’s lap, determined that today would be the day. He’d finally please Sans the way he pleased Red.

“I’m flattered you wanna Red, but I told you, I’m fine just playing with you.” Sans cupped Red’s cheek (well, head), and Red leaned into it. “It’s not like I’m dating you for sex.”

“I know. But you do this for me all the time. If I can do this, then maybe…” Red blushed, shaking at the thought of what he was going to attempt. “I can please you even half as well as you please me.” Red kissed the hand, then pushed it away to take off his jacket.

“You already do darling, but if you’re sure, we’ll take it nice and slow.” Sans helped Red remove his clothes, tossing them to the side of the bed. They were at Sans’s place, and Sans was only in a T-shirt and boxers, having almost gone to bed when his boyfriend had come over. Red stripped down to just his boxers, standing up on Sans’s thighs to drop them.

“Oh, babe.” Sans stared down at the delicious display before him.

Red put his hands on Sans’s shoulders, glorious red ecto covering his torso, pelvis, and parts of his limbs. He could practically taste Red from here, staring at the wet pussy between his legs. Standing like this put him just above Sans’s face; it was fun to lean down and be kissed for a change.

Red groaned at Sans’s thick tongue working its way into his mouth. Red couldn’t really run out of air, no lungs, but this did make him feel lightheaded. Sans pulled back when the hands on his body clutched his collarbone tightly.

“You back on earth love?” Sans half lidded gaze raked over the cute red blush on Red’s face.

“Mmhmm. Where do we start?”

“With a snack.” Red was flipped onto the bed, Sans pinning him with one hand, not that he needed to hold Red down, just hold him still.

“This is supposed to be about you!” Red tried to get up, but fell back when Sans put his thick finger directly inside him. “Saaaaaans.”

“You need some prep if I’m even gunna humor your idea.” He wiggled it around, chuckling at Red’s moans and then gasps when he licked his clit. Red bucked and whimpered, only ceasing when Sans replaced the finger with his tongue.

“You’re gunna need to f-f-f-ffffffffff-AHHHHHHH.” His tongue finally really got going, slurping up some of his favorite flavor. “FUCK! Fit three fucking fingers!”

Sans couldn’t respond, his mouth was full, but he did look up at Red’s face with glowing eyes, holding his ribs down enough to cause Red to squirm. He tapped each of his three middle fingers in turn, letting Red feel their weight and size, turning him on even more.

Sans lapped up all of Red’s juices spacing out staring out his cute, overwhelmed face.

Sans honestly never expected to be able to have Red. He was a pretty big guy, and he knew Red was terrified of him at first. Red hadn’t lived this long trusting huge people who could crush him. And even when he had fallen for the cute face who also loved jokes and science, he wasn’t sure that Red would accept him that way. AND THEN, when he did, his main concern was that he couldn’t sexually please Sans with his own body. Sans couldn’t give a damn, he got more than enough in exchange.

There was a small part of him though that was desperately curious to see if he could though.

He pulled his tongue out when Red laid bonelessly moaning and sensitive. The two fingers fit without much complaint.

“Saaaaans…”Red thrusted against the large fingers, groaning and trying to shove them deeper just with canting from his pelvis. “More, more of you, more!”

“If you want it that bad, we’ll step it up.” The third was a tight fit, but Red’s mind was too gone to mind. Red had taken three fingers before, he had bigger goals today.

“Oh fuck, Sans, fuck, I want it so baaad.” Red gasped and thrust recklessly against them. God, the stretching drove him wild. Red didn’t know if he could be satisfied with anything less ever again. Taking Sans could ruin him, make him unsateable for life by anyone else, but he was in too deep, too desperate to please the love of his life.

“Fuck Red, I’m gunna add a fourth. You’re doing so good babe.” Sans could feel his own erection trying to escape his boxers. Red might be able to, holy fuck. Even if he couldn’t, the idea that he might threatened to drive Sans insane.

“AAAAAAAAAAH!” Red’s body convulsed at the width it could fit, mind going blank at the resistance of his ecto to the intruding fingers. Sans only kept finger fucking him under he got a clean slide in and out without Red groaning in discomfort. He left them inside Red, waiting until Red’s brain clicked on enough to actually hear him, to speak back.

“Red, earth to Red. You’re sexy as fuck and I’d go to hell for you, over.”

“Hello earth, this is Red, over. I’m…” Red looked down to his face, meeting Sans’s eyes and taking a huge gulp of air. “...ready to come in for a landing. Over.”

“Red, are you-” Sans felt his soul flip around, suddenly lying on his back. Red whimpered at the fingers being gone, managing to get around his large boyfriend and climb on top of Sans, dropping directly over the rather large bulge in his shorts.

He grabbed at Sans’s waistband, pulling down until he finally set the bulge free.

The thick blue ectocock stood about as tall as his sternum, the huge tip widening down to a width that exceeded the four fingers he had taken earlier. He stood up, straddling Sans’s waist, adjusting just right to have the tip touch his waiting entrance.

“Safe word is Orion.” Red, nervously licking his teeth and lightly rubbing the tip against himself, locked eyes with Sans.

Sans looked incredulous, clearly trying to burn this into his memory. His cock twitched at the thought, Red forced to sway with the weight of it. He leaned onto it, just until it began to stretch him further than the fingers had.

“I...can do this…” Red dropped a little further. He was so, so full. How much had he taken?

After a quick glance down, he determined a third was in, two thirds to go. He’d need to put more weight into it to even attempt to sink down.

Sans was losing his fucking mind. Red’s face glowed as bright as their ectos, even only a third of the way down his cock. That’s as far as he got before he paused. He could see the very clear outline of dick right through Red’s body. Oh, this was so worth it, maybe Red would let him just fuck him with the tip, because this was too good to walk aw-

“holy fucking shit Red”

Red had gotten down to kneeling on Sans’s lap, two thirds now, and stuck just above the thickest part of the cock. He was as far up as kneeling could leave him.

“You’re so fucking thick Sans, I can barely take iiiiiiiiit!” Red’s mouth kept opening and closing, huffing out all the breath in his body. The line of Sans’s dick glowed fiercely in him, definitely protruding far above his pelvis and bulging his stomach heavily to fit so much inside of him. His brain fuzzed over, focused solely on the burn of the stretch and the thought of what he was fucking himself apart with. He turned to Sans, and unintentionally tightened around the huge thing inside him.

Sans always kept his composure pretty well around Red, Red the one to always blush and be embarrassed by all the antics and romance and flirting.

His boyfriend looked half feral. Sans was staring him down like others might stare at works of art in a museum. Completely in awe, swept up in overpowering feelings, desperately in love. Red moaned.

“Sans!” Red reached for him, and Sans shakily lifted his hands to cradle Red’s face, wiping away the tears gathering in the corner of Red’s eyes. Red grabbed the hands, his own shaking so bad that Sans would worry if not for the fact that Red had declared a safe word beforehand. Red pulled them off his face, and guided them to his hips. Red sank a little further, but his body resisted even under the weight of them.

“Do it.” Red pressed down on his arms.

“Red, you don’t have to do this.” Sans rubbed his fingers in soothing circles on Red’s waist, breathing like he ran a marathon. There weren’t many monsters even close to his size, he hadn’t got to have even this much with anyone before. Red looked stretched to the brink, his body struggling to contain him. He felt so guilty, but he didn’t deny that he wanted to grab those hips and ride out everything Red could take without physically breaking.

But maybe Red could hear thoughts, because he just glared at Sans.

“Yes I do. Do it Sans.” And Sans’s control was shot to hell, because he did.

He pushed Red down, slowly but steady, and didn’t stop until they were pressed flush together. Sans held him there, because any movement whatsoever and he’d pound the life of his poor little boyfriend.

Red’s eyelights had poofed out of his face, mouth open in a silent cry. The cock sat so high in his body, overstuffed and overstimulated. He had to breath through the feeling of containing more than his body was meant to hold. But he wanted this, he wanted Sans, he needed to do this for him. Sans’s eyelights had gone into full hearts.

“Fuck babe, I love you so damn much.” Sans released him a little, letting Red bounce only an inch, but feeling the way the thrust would shake his body. “Red, baby, please, talk to me, fuck.”

“Just, go slow.” Red shuddered when Sans thrust into him, a few inches this time. He gradually increased the length of the thrust, keeping the speed slow.

Sans had to stare directly at Red’s face. It took every single ounce of self control he could muster to not slam into his ridiculously stretched pussy, to hear every noise he could drag out of that cute little mouth. He wasn’t sure how long he could keep this up. Hopefully as long as Red needed him to.

“Red, baby, I love you, you’re so tight, I can’t believe you took all of me, you’re incredible, I love you.” Sans’s pace increased, still gradual, but clearly gaining momentum.

Red could feel the safe word on the edge of his tongue, but swallowed the urge. His body bulged and shook under the massive cock pistoning in and out of him, pounding his abused magic, starting to actually slam into him. Sans grip on his hips turned iron as Sans essentially jacked himself off with Red’s body. Red’s hands laid limply by his sides, but he brought them up to instead rub over his stomach. He glanced down at the huge dick his body was taking for Sans, his lovely boyfriend whom his soul had already sold itself to. He pulled himself off of the edge of the safe word by focusing on what was happening.

He’d been stretched wide. He had taken Sans’s cock down to the hilt. He was going to take Sans’s load deep into his body. He was going to satisfy his boyfriend, the love of his life, in a way that no one else had managed to before. He’d said no one could do more than a very enthusiastic handjob for him. That technically made this taking Sans’s virginity. And that was more than enough for him to slip back into the mood. One hand rubbing over the rapidly appearing and disappearing bulge, another straying down to his clit and nearly screamed for touching it.

“fuck” Sans sped the fuck up, needing to get to the peak, to be there with Red. He openly stared at his gorgeous boyfriend, taking him without a single complaint, rubbing himself off on the experience of being fucked apart by his boyfriend’s huge cock. Red was getting tighter, Sans’s rhythm off beat, he called out for him.

“Come on Red, I love you, fucking, come for me!”

“SAAAAAAANS!” Red screamed so loud Sans almost flinched, but the second he felt that clench, he followed Red directly into freefall.

Red’s orgasm jumped through his body like a live wire. Every nerve lit up, burning and warming in turn, while he could feel his core getting hot and full and Red couldn’t think about anything else for minutes, mentally spaced and physically sagging against Sans, unable to do anything else but breathe raggedly and wait patiently to come down.

When he did come to, he tiredly looked down at his body.

It was glowing purple. All of Sans’s cum shone through his red ecto as purple magic. Sans hadn’t pulled out of him yet, so he looked up at him.

Sans’s eyes were closed. He looked as exhausted as Red felt.

“Sansy?...” Sans snapped to attention. He steadied him with an arm and cradled his skull with the other hand.

“Are you okay?” Red tightened experimentally around the softer cock inside him. Sans sighed happily, but searched Red’s face for any sign to pull out.

“Yeah, just sore.” He rubbed his stomach. “And very full.”

“You look good like that.” Sans rubbed a hand over his taut stomach. It felt warm and comfortable. It soothed some of the ache.

“I look pregnant.” Sans paused, choosing his words carefully.

“I...don’t retract my previous statement.” His face went bright bright red. And then he murmured softly.

“It’s possible...” Sans, in awe and so, so happy, smiled at him.

“I love you.” He bent himself down to clank Red’s head. “You’re incredible.”

“Nah, that’s you.” Red stretched his arm up and back, looking back down at his stuffed belly. If Sans pulled out here, the bed wouldn’t be able to be slept on. It’d also probably ruin the carpet. “Though for such an incredible pair, we didn’t think too far ahead on this one. How do we not fuck up all the surrounding area when you pull out?”

Sans turned bright blue.

“Honestly, I didn’t think you’d be able to…”He hurriedly explained more. “I mean, no one’s ever even tried. It’s apparently intimidating up close.” Red chuckled at Sans looking so flustered.

“You shouldn’t have underestimated me.” Red sighed, feeling up his body and marvelling at the warmth and size again. The only reason Sans’s dick hadn’t slid out by now was solely it’s girth, Red’s body couldn’t push it out even after tightening so much. “Though it’s not like I made a plan either.”

Then Red had an idea. A fucking crazy idea, his body reminded him, but he did have one.

“Hey Sans?” Sans paused his current soft exploration of Red’s ectoflesh, still in awe, to look at his face.

“Yeah love?”

“How do you feel about a round two?” Oh, Red wanted to frame that face. Sans eyes had gone dark, and he had felt a pulse from the cock still inside him.

“Red, you really want…”Sans chuckled, low and deep, rumbling his chest and Red along with it. “You’re something else.” Red could already feel his plan working, even if his body groaned at being used so soon, so extremely.

“Listen, if we move, I’m gunna leave a gross splash zone in the bedroom. But only if we move while you’re soft.” Red wiggled his hips a little. “Think you could get it up again? Even if we can’t really move yet?”

“Could I?” Sans’s voice dropped an octave. “Babe, you’re still speared on me, filled with my magic. You’re goddamn gorgeous, and you’re asking for more?” Red felt Sans really getting into it. “You take my fucking monster cock like a champ, and you still want more of it?” He stroked all over Red’s body, growling at Red’s little whimpers of pleasure. “You’re some kinda freak, aren’t ya?”

“Only for you Sansy.” Red kept his body grounded by holding onto Sans’s ribs. He left little scratches from holding on so tight.

“Of course ya are. Now that I know you can take it, you think I’m letting you go?” Sans was already half hard again. Before, it was a pipe dream to have Red once, and now he might get to fuck him twice in the same night. “I don’t need any motivation sweetheart, just gotta wait out the clock until my body will let me.”

Red shivered at the insinuation, even though he still felt plenty warm. Sans’s dick was already starting to take up a lot of space. His walls sent out bites of pain, but they were soothed by all the lubrication still sloshing around inside him. Part of him worried that even suggesting this would set a precedent that Sans could have him however many times he wanted, the only prerequisite of there being enough time to prep for the first go.

The other part of him hoped Sans would take that hint and run with it.

“We - mmmmphh - gotta move before you go too wild, big guy.” Red could feel that Sans fully recovered, his body still freshly aching from the wonderful scrambling of his insides 15 minutes ago. So thick, so hot. Red let his thoughts go, instead just focusing on every single feeling his body had about Sans’s intrusion.

Sans nodded, but honestly couldn’t even think of how to go about it. This was gunna be awkward, even with his size.

He put an arm under Red’s back, focusing mainly on his rib cage, and made sure to push their pelvises firmly together to keep most of the cum inside. He stood up off the bed, using both hands to make sure Red was steady first, and then slowly walking towards the door. Where to go? The only place without carpet was the kitchen/dining room and bathroom, and he didn’t know how Red would feel about either of those.

Then Sans had a crazy idea, and walked them both to the dining room.

The table was kinda low for Sans, practically just better than a coffee table; he really wanted to replace the stupid thing, but now, it would serve his purposes effectively. He moved right up to the table, grabbed Red with both hands, and then spun him around.

Red suddenly felt sturdy wood beneath his hands and knees. He whined at the sensation of being flipped. And then a large hand dropped on his back.

“You feeling okay?” Red couldn’t breathe. Sans’s cock, at this angle, already sunk lower into his ribs. He’d be knocking up against his soul at this rate. Not to mention, he was already stuffed full. Sans hadn’t pulled out and emptied Red’s body at all.

“Saaaaans.” It’s all he could say. His body and soul consumed by the intense connection, half of his body was taken up by Sans now. His wrecked moans were the only verbage he could muster right now. Sans didn’t want to accidentally hurt him.

“Red, what’s the safeword?”

“Orion.” So he wasn’t all gone. Just very, very lost.

“Brace yourself.”

Sans started slow, thrusts to reaquaint Red’s body with his size. He didn’t need more than a few before Red moaned back at him.

“More!” Fuck, he’d give him more. So much more. This angle, he wasn’t moving Red with his arms, he was throwing his weight into them now. Each thrust was powerful, rocking the table Red was on, and Red only got louder. His arms had given out, letting his back curve downward, and Sans hit even deeper.

“FUCK!” He’d tapped Red’s soul.

Sans almost panicked, but Red canted his hips backwards, trying to take more of the fucking thing into his abused pussy.

His love was a freak. A wild delicious little thing, who loved Sans of all people, and Sans helplessly wanted to please him.

Each thrust shook all of Red’s bones and sent shockwaves through his body. Soul sex usually didn’t work like this, but damn if Sans’s huge cock hadn’t demanded it anyway. Where was he? All he could think about was being pounded into, how full he was, the stretch, the cum still filling him to the brim, and Sans name over and over and over again.

Red’s only sounds were very loud moans (thank the stars this wasn’t an apartment), tongue lolled out, swept away by pleasure and Sans was about to follow him.

“Red, I’m so fucking close babe. Come for me and I’ll pull out.” Sans desperately needed to see and feel Red orgasm, but he didn’t want to overfill his small body and hurt him. He could cum on his back. He’d look great anyway he could have him.

“DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!” Red barely held on past the words. He was gone. All wild moans and clenching, Sans whole body fucking shook and only lasting thorugh three hard pumps before he came.

He slow thrusted through the pleasure, wave after wave spilling out of him, into Red. Sans watched him inflate even bigger than he thought possible. Stomach and body distended so much further and Red could only whine and claw at the table, endlessly repeating Sans’s name to the stars.

He came back down first, holding his small lover in his hands. Red was still shaking, a wobbly mess that got quieter and quieter until he heard one crisp clear word.

“Orion.”

Sans pulled out of him, and he couldn’t get out of the way fast enough. Red’s body gushed blue magic, some getting on the table, but mostly on the linoleum floor. Red’s knees knocked together, gush after gush dumping out of him, and once it stopped, Sans gently tipped his boyfriend into his arms, overturning him from on his hands and knees, to let even more flow out.

Once it stopped, he pulled Red up into his chest like a teddy bear. He still had a little trapped inside, but it only made him look a little chubby.

“I love you.” He kissed him gently. “How you feeling?” Red rattled quietly against him.

“Exhausted from all the bone-ing.” Red’s eyes were heavy, but he did smile. Sans felt his soul explode in fondness. He cuddled Red close.

“Let’s get cleaned up and sleep then, my gushing beauty.” Sans laughed when he felt Red softly hit him with his fists. He wanted to see the cute blush, but didn’t want to get too unfocused. He grabbed his hoodie, and walked back with Red, setting him on the table (a clean part) and wrapped it around him. “Gotta clean the floor. I promise I’ll come back and get you clean. Just rest.”

Red yawned and pulled the comfy hoodie tighter around him. Sans used an entire roll of paper towels, turned on the shower to heat up, and then swiffered the floor to clean the residue. It’d need a better clean later, but he was just trying to get them both into bed.

After that, he carried Red into the bathroom. He hung his hoodie by the door, carrying Red with him.

Red focused his sleepy mind to let the ecto body go, letting the last bit of blue magic pour down the drain and on Red’s pelvis. Sans gently cleaned every inch of him (and himself) before turning the water off and pulling out some towels.

Sans’s towels were as tall as Red, and drying him was so cute, his little head popping out the top, very warm and happy. Sans gladly let him have his hoodie back when the towel came off and Red almost shivered to death.

“Finally.” Red curled up right into Sans when they finally ended up in the bed. “I love you Sans.” He would’ve been so cold if not for Sans and his hoodie to keep him warm. He wasn’t full of warm magic anymore. Vanishing the ecto helped with the empty feeling. “You know that, right?”

Sans settled an arm around Red, touching as much of their bodies as he could. His soul glowed softly in the night, framing Red in the light.

“I definitely do now. You’re it for me. I’m yours forever.” Sans sleepily winked at him. Red hummed pleasantly.

“You’re gunna fall for the first guy you have sex with? Guess I’m lucky it was me.” Red laughed, but Sans looked serious for a second. “I know you like me for me, Sans. It’s okay.”

“I’ve been in love with you for months now. But after tonight, after actually having you, feeling your soul and seeing how far you were willing to go for me…”Sans beamed at him. “I’m yours. You can have anything you want as long as I have you. I love ya Red, I truly do.”

“Good, I’m taking half the bed.” Red blushed. “And I love you too Sansy. Honestly.” Sans pulled him up for a kiss, and they settled in with a smile. Red grinned as he fell asleep, tired and aching, but sated in his very soul.

Well, until next week, at the very least.

-----

Hope I did it justice!

#kinktober #size difference #undertail #kustard #underfell sans #bara!sans #story time

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fairycosmos · 4 years

Note

I have my finale exam tomorrow and I'm 99,9% sure that I'll fail. I feel like such a failure right now. I could retake the school year but why I understand the school work then, if I don't understand it now. I'll probably stay unemployed forever, because I'm so anxious at job interviews and I literally don't know how to talk to people. Maybe it'd be the best if I didn't exist because nothing would change if wasn't here anyway. I wouldn't be missed and I know I will never be happy anyway.

hey dude, listen. it sounds a bit like you’re spiraling right now and i really think it’d do you some good to just take a step back and breathe. i hope the test went okay, and by okay i hope i mean you got through it, because that’s literally all you can ask of yourself. it’s natural to be nervous about such things and if you’re also struggling with mental illness on top of that, it’s easy to get lost in the heaviness of that anxiety. making big unfounded assumptions about your future, feeling a sense of doom, thinking in black and whites instead of recognizing the nuance and middle ground - all of those are red flags, not reliable thought processes that you need to build your life around. it’s okay to process negative emotions, to be upset and to feel overwhelmed and to want to give up at at times. we all need to break down a little when we’re overwhelmed so we can let some of that pent up tension out. but that should look like allowing yourself to cry, reaching out to those around you, getting some rest, and removing yourself from situations that exacerbate the pain when possible. not harming yourself in hopes of dulling those emotions, because that’s how you get stuck in a cycle of self destruction that is more suffocating than just confronting the pain and trying to let it go. look, you’re young and life is generally a lot longer than it seems when you’re in school, in the sense that we learn how resilient we are over and over again. we’re supposed to ‘mess up.’ things go ‘wrong ’and then we carve our paths out of that, and we adapt. whether we realize it or not. you’ve done it before, and you can do it again. if it turns out you have to retake the school year, then with the extra time and maybe additional support from your teachers, the school work may become a little clearer if you give it the chance and try out new learning techniques to find what works for you. that doesn’t make you a failure at all. you clearly care a lot about your future, and you’ve already made so much more progress than you realize. i know it doesn’t seem like it in this moment. but seriously, whatever happens, after the initial disappointment and frustration, you WILL be able to return to a sense of normality. the extent of how much it hurts right now is not permanent. there’s truly no set time schedule for education, no matter how much they want to convince us otherwise. you just have to do what you can with what you’ve been given. that’s more than good enough. you’re more than good enough. and about job interviews - try to slow down. there’s absolutely no evidence that you will be unemployed forever, in fact it’s very unlikely, and your worth/future happiness doesn’t rely on that factor anyway. honestly, i’ve been to a few job interviews by now and i’ve always thought the same thing about myself. especially when i was in school, i thought i knew, that there was no way i could handle it, no way anyone would take me on. and they are uncomfortable and nerve wracking, sure. but they’re also not the beginning and end of the world. nobody is expecting you to be the worlds best talker especially when you’re new to the whole thing. it’s about showing your enthusiasm and your skillset, and if you dont believe you have one, you do. you just cant see it because you dont like yourself right now. i’ve been rejected from jobs too, and yeah it’s a dig at the self esteem, but it’s not a personal failure. it’s just the nature of applying for a position that loads of other people are also applying for. you learn to accept it. but you don’t even have to carry that weight yet, love. so try to recognize what your brain is doing by bombarding you with worries that are entirely out of your control, and that there is no actual proof of. more than anything, it’s important to remember that school nor your career defines everything that you are. we’re taught from a young age that we only deserve to be here if we’re ‘useful’ by capitalist standards, if we can justify the space we take up. but it’s a fucking lieeeeee. raising us like that is the only way to get us to work work work without questioning it too much. it’s got nothing to do with you and everything to do with the world being a soul sucking machine. so, relax. you deserve to be here and you deserve to be gentle with yourself, nothing changes that. not tests or the future or your self hatred. i know it’s hard to believe that such concepts apply to you, but they do. nothing and nobody would be better off without you, i promise. when you’re in a dark place it’s only normal to believe that you’ll never be happy, but it’s really not the case in reality. happiness is an emotion that comes and goes like all else, and it is entirely possible for it to become a consistent theme in your life. that is, if you’re able to make it through this part. if you’re able to try to engage in healthier coping mechanisms so that you see your situation from multiple perspectives, rather than just from a one dimensional ‘things will never get better’ stand point. even if you just have to survive hour by hour, until you get there.

i’d really recommend considering talking to someone about what’s happening in your head right now, man. i know that’s not what you want to hear and part of you will want to immediately write it off, but try to pause and keep it in the back of your mind. whether it’s a teacher, a parent/family member, a school counselor, a mental health hotline, a friend, your doctor - there are so many people out there who have the tools to help you learn to manage. and it doesn’t matter if the process is slow or non linear, or if you have to force the words out. all that matters is that you try. whatever that means to you, even if some days it’s just staying in your room and breathing through it. you can recognize that not wanting to be here any more is an unhealthy thought, indicating that there is a lot more going on beneath the surface, yeah? it’s alright to talk about that and to let others in. our mental health is often just as fragile as our physical health and sometimes it needs medical intervention in order to be adequately supported, and that’s totally fine. yeah, opening up is embarrassing and yeah it’s not something anyone ‘wants’ to do, but it’s often very necessary, because it’ll allows people to be able to relate with and guide you. please consider your own needs and know that there is no shame in speaking up. even if you have to take some time to find the courage. honestly, you don’t even need to go into great detail. a simple ‘i need help and i’m not sure what to do’ is a great place to start with someone you trust, or someone who is in a position to help you. anyway, i’m sorry this got super long. navigating school is fuckin difficult at the best of times, and i’m infinitely proud of you for making it to this point and for being able to articulate your feelings like this to me. i have no doubt that you will be able to get through this if you give yourself the time and the tools do so. and i dont say that lightly at all. try to ground yourself for now, and start again tomorrow. if you want to talk about this properly or if you ever need a friend, my dms/inbox will be open. take care. focus on one day at a time.

#anon

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futzzzy · 5 years

Text

“I cant make you love me..”

I can’t make you love me if you don’t. You can’t make your heart feel something it won’t. Here in the dark, in these final hours. I will lay down my heart and ill feel the power but you won’t.”

Genre/Warning: Angst, Abuse, Smut, Domestic Violence, Unprotected Sex, Oral, Profanity.

Pairing: Fem! Reader/ Hoseok

Word Count: 4623

Recommend Song: Tank – I can’t make you love me

POV: First

Character Ethnicity: Unspecified

Authors Note: This is Fiction and does not characterize Jung Ho-seok.

My bare feet drag across the frigid tile floors, as if they know as well as I know that I don’t want to be in the same vicinity as him. My mind is racing as fast as my heart is throbbing the shorter the distance gets between me and our shared bed. I want to break down right here on this floor, sob dramatically and ask, “why me?” or something else theatrical that would make me feel better, but I’m exhausted from dealing with the emotions that continuously overwhelm me. Maybe I’m telling myself I feel this way so that the tears threatening my waterline don’t escape their barrage. How could he be fast asleep anyway. As if what happened didn’t happen. As if he’s not afraid of the possibilities or consequences to his actions.

I sink into our mattress on my designated side of the bed.

A lot farther to the edge than either of us are accustomed to. Placing one of my pillows beneath the back of my head and creating a barrier between us with the other. I don’t want to look in his direction. I don’t want to smell his aroma. I used to like how the smell of these sheets swallowed me, his natural scent was like what honey is to bees for me, the sweetest reward at the end of a long day. Those hints of vanilla infused with our amber blossom fabric softer being my good morning and the only comfort that I knew in our lonely bed when he worked late nights. My gut sinks and my airway stings when it invades my nostrils this time.

There were nights where I would cuddle into his slender frame and he would caress me and grip my waist so tight it stung after a while. Now I want nothing more than for one of us to disappear, maybe both of us. I’m afraid to close my eyes or even look him in his, when did my sunshine get replaced for this cloud of rain. When did he become so intimidating?

“You’re seeing him again tonight? Are you going to get married next? Be a big happy family with a yorkie and white picket fence? Tuh! Do you even hear yourself” “What we have is real” he mocks. “What the FUCK do you call what me and you have then?”

I sigh and fold my arms in on each other.

“Hoseok what me and you HAD was an arrangement that we made forever ago and it hasn’t grown any more than that. In the last five years you never did half the things he’s done in the 6 months he’s known me. “

He scoffed and looked at me in disgust with the corners of his lips turned down forming his mug into a crescent shaped pout.

“He brought me my favorite pastry for breakfast three times this week. When’s the last time you even thought abou-“He cut me off.

“DO NOT compare me to him! And now you’re having breakfast together. When did that shit start?”

My irises meet my brain, deeply rolling my eyes at his pettiness and obvious selective listening. “You’re not entitled to me. I told you I’ve been meeting him for months now.”

He takes a step closer with his hands intertwined in front of him and eyes trailing the ceiling like the answers to his questions were up there. Releasing a loud sigh through gritted teeth he descends his gaze towards me.

“You don’t get it y/n. Throughout our relatio- arrangement we’ve both “met” up with people but you’ve never been stupid enough to take it this far”

The tips of my ear’s heat up at his insult.

“What’s this far Hoseok, Hm? Far enough to find someone who actually claims me outside of a bedroom? Far enough to not be around every time you need a good fuck? Far enough that I can’t feed your man child ego whenever you want me to?

In a breath he closes the gap between us; pressing his chest into mine, practically backing me against the wall. Now so close the warm draft from his nostrils is tickling my cupids bow. I squint my eyes and peer up at him.

“Or Is it that you’re afraid”

I take a step back and point my manicured fingernail into his chest tapping each word between his pecs.

“I found someone FAR.. better.. than.. yo-“

Out of instinct my eyes blinked shut before his palm descended across my cheek, fumbling the words that were on the tip of my tongue. When I opened them back up, I felt like my eyes needed to adjust to the light in the room all over again, as if I had just left a dark theater and forgotten it was daytime outside. My knees wobbled as I pressed my palm into my burning cheek; Nothing short of a newborn giraffe trying to learn to walk for the first time. I felt weak. I was weak emotionally, physically everything about me, abruptly became weak.

Sniffling faintly in this pitch-black room where not even the moon wants to visit me. I replay the events repeatedly in my head. I won’t even bother wiping my tears, its not like anyone can see them anyway. I shimmy and get comfortable on my side, planting my face flush against my algid tear stained pillow to allow the congested phlegm formulating in my nostrils to settle; as I bite back the sounds of sorrow that are beginning to choke and suffocate me. Strangled by my own tears with a growing agonizing lump in my esophagus all to avoid waking Hoseok from his slumber.

I can’t be here.

I pluck my phone from the bedside charger not willing to risk unplugging it from behind the timbered nightstand. Languidly rising to my feet. I snag my empty gym bag hanging on the bathroom doorknob and sail to the dresser using my phone light on its lowest brightness setting to dimly guide my path. Pulling the drawers out strategically slow I collect a few T-shirts to pair with the three identical black cotton leggings I tossed in prior.

“grrrm-“Chills race down my spine and my forearms coat in goose bumps at the sound of the mattress squeaking as he mumbles in the bed just feet behind me. I freeze and gnaw on the side of my bottom lip anxiously and swiftly press my phone against my belly hoping to mask its shine in the pit of my stomach. When I don’t hear anymore sound beyond his shallow exhales, I continue my mission of packing. I can’t even think clearly anymore, with the tune of my own heartbeat in my ears encouraging me, I hoist my bag of partial belongings up over my shoulder and begin the journey towards the door.

I’m counting down the steps before I’m unconfined to this room when a petite icy callus covered hand restrains my wrist and nearly yanks me off my feet, thwarting my goal of freedom. I shriek and my own grip becomes weak allowing my bag to descend my arm in defeat.

He walks me backwards towards the bed then clicks on his lamp light. I refuse to turn around and face him. If he’s angry I know what he’s capable of. Now I remember when I said I wanted one of us to “disappear”, but I wasn’t sure who. Its me.

He groans full of exhaustion and then his raspy voice speaks.

“You’re going to leave me?”

Why does he sound so delicate? I question. Calmly rotating on my feet in newfound curiosity I attempt to release his grasp on me, it falls short and he holds my wrist hostage. I still scrunch my brows and fidget in his palm to let him know it hurt initially.

There’s an awkward silence like he expected me to answer him but I didn’t have the words. I mean; I did but I wasn’t brave enough to mutter them.

“I’m sorry... If you want to leave you ha- “He interrupted my thoughts.

“-have every right to do that but if you’re willing to give me a chance to plead my case. I just want to do what I should’ve done before.”

I didn’t expect to be in this position, I mean literally he’ s sitting on the mattress back slumped pitifully and I’m standing above him, with high shoulders making me feel extremely big and him small. Here he is willingly submissive in a way I’ve never seen him before. Suddenly my cowardliness is replaced with cockiness and I wrench myself from his touch. He looks defeated like I did moments ago.

“So, speak” I sound more gallant than I intended to but I’m proud of myself, nonetheless.

He holds his head down in remorse probably embarrassment too.

“I thought I lost you for good when I caught the way your face beamed when you mentioned his name, it fueled my jealousy and I let it ignite my actions “

He coughs the drowsiness out of his chest then continues

“I know I fucked up and you’re worth much more than I’ve ever shown”

I’m not saying anything or even motioning that I’m listening to him but I am, to every single syllable

His hands and head rise in unison, he glowers into my eyes and his hands take purchase on my bare lower hips, unintentionally sliding my short cut silk night gown up my exterior scrunching it just below my mound. He doesn’t seem to notice that he partially exposed me, so I ignore it. Instinct tells me to jerk away from contact, but he seems determined to touch me.

“Baby I can’t let you- “this time he pauses and chokes back tears. Pressing the side of his face against my stomach. I plant my hands on top of his head and ruffle his hair in inconsistent circles “Please don’t go. I promise you it won’t happen again just allow me to show and prove it to you”

I realize I haven’t said much and I don’t need to. Somewhere in him there’s still the man I fell in love with & this one action doesn’t define him. Before I can fully process my thoughts, my body is descending towards his and I’m straddling his thighs, holding his blood shot face between my thumbs and kissing his tears away.

His hands instinctively guide their way lower, one settling on my ass cheek holding a firm grip the opposite palm delicately settled on the small of my back guiding me further into him.

Migrating my hands down to his chest I feel his palpitating heartbeat against my palms and clutch his wrinkled navy shirt between my nimble fingers. Relocating my moist tear stained lips against his plush cracked ones. My lips taste like the salt of his cries and his like sleep but we kiss passionately. Not waiting for permission his tongue invades the cave of my mouth in exploration for my tongue. When he finds it, they battle and intertwine with nothing but DNA between them. The tongue war is futile with him claiming supremacy he sucks my tongue into his mouth getting his fair share of me and I respond moaning my satisfaction against his taste buds. Guiding my curious hands higher I grip his dark velvety hair, tugging on any strand that’s not bold enough to slip between my fingers.

He vibrates sound into my inviting mouth groaning loudly while moving both of his hands to my ass following the motions of my swaying hips. Grinding helplessly on his covered hardening member. My hips are hypnotized as they move in perfectly timed indistinguishable loops begging for friction to meet my starving clit. He notices my desperation and grips under my thighs prompting me to wrap my legs around his slim waist. Swiftly he lifts me up and spins around placing my frame back on the mattress in between short delicious kisses. He grasps my calves and pins my legs back. The forced position sending shock waves to my core, causing my pelvic bone to instantly become sore but I’m so far gone that anything feels right as long as he’s doing it. He drives his hips to meet mine, humping me like a teenage boy at a house party. The motions he’s making are incredibly adolescent but they fuel my fire. Turning me on even more as the friction provides just enough to hold on to and want more of. He demonstrates forthcoming strokes on me fully clothed before supporting my body up the width of the bed making room for himself then he grips my fleshy thighs splaying them apart. Dipping between my legs, never abandoning eye contact with me. He sticks his sopping wet tongue out and kitten licks at the seat of my panties. The milk of my excitement and the result of his sobbing moments ago, his slime covered tongue presses at my clit with just the lace of my undergarments being a barrier. The need for more overwhelms me and I impatiently yank my panties to the side catching him by surprise. He smirks at my scrunched brows and jaded eyes that warn him I’m not for any antics when my core is aching this awful in anticipation. “That bad?” He says confidently. I blink my eyes into a roll and plunge my head flat against the duvet staring up at the ceiling as he begins to attack my exposed core. He suckles my entire pussy into his mouth like a toothless person gnawing a peach he engulfed me eagerly. He’s not focused on the one spot I need him the most yet so I gather his long locks between my fingers and drive his head deeper forcing him to latch onto my clit, he closes his mouth smaller, popping my clit between his wet lips. Then he sticks his delicate rose toned tongue out and rides it between my sticky inner labia spreading the puffy lips apart then he introduces his tongue to my hard-needy clit. I can feel my nectar coating his chin when he pulls away to repeat his gestures. The stickiness on his face, cold compared to the fresh balmy milk my body is producing adequately. I moan into the atmosphere releasing his hair to push my own out of my face. Tangling it above my head somewhere as I instinctively look where his head is buried between my thighs. I pull the straps of my gown down my shoulder and release my breast. Teasing my taunt nipples, twirling one between my fingers, pinching and releasing the other, then twisting each one separately as if they were Jewish dreidels. My vacant walls are collapsing on themselves, wringing around nothing but self-made secretion, the combination of stimulation is getting me close but I don’t want to come like this.

“H-Hoseok please come fuck me”

He reluctantly pulls away from my pussy. Swishing his mouth around and spitting the juices he collected back onto my clit. The glob falls short and splatters on the prickly peach fuzz I haven’t found the time to wax. He uses his finger to help the misguided puddle down to my entrance and allows the wetness to encase his single digit as it enters me, I throw my head back harshly and tremble in satisfaction. “Hose-ok pleaseee” I childishly whine. “You’re gonna make me cum”

He disregards my gripes with a sly grin and commences twirling his elongated middle finger inside of me diving deeper into my abyss with each twist then motioning his digit up and down like he was flicking through channels inside of me. He doesn’t mind my whining but I squirm frantically away from his touch and he hesitantly retracts from my slippery ridged walls. Sitting up on his knees he swiftly lifts his damp sticky shirt over his head and pulls down his briefs, shimmying them across his thighs and kicking them behind him somewhere. He locks eyes with me and lays between my legs, smooching the sides of my parted lips and craning his neck down slightly to kiss on a single nipple. He readjusts himself lower and gradually twirls the tip of his tongue around the areola then comes from below the nipple and flicks at it briskly. He suctions it delicately, switching in between placid nibbles and light sucking. I bite my lip as he kisses between my breast attacking the opposite boob more aggressively than the other. Taking it between his teeth and vibrating his bottom jaw subtly, tugging at it between his assaulting grinders then he frees the impishly tormented nipple and kisses it. Curling his core, he reaches between us and pumps himself into his palm then taps the head of his dick against my sensitive clit before pressing into my waiting core. The blushed tip slides in gathering lubrication that coaxes the slight amount of foreskin around it inside. He submerges too deep too soon and it practically burns. Abnormally clumsy and amateur for him. When he notices me wincing at the pain of him stretching me too rapidly, he pulls himself out completely sitting back on his knees and grabs hold to the base of his dick with one hand using the other to hold his hovering form above me. He dips himself in and out of me like a sausage to gooey cheese fondue. Coating himself and repeating; Giving me more length with each snap of his hips.

When he feels I’m prepped properly he relaxes and dives in again gluing my knees to my chest, thrusting patiently. Giving each stroke purpose as he dips his hips downward, driving deeper and allowing me to feel every inch of him.

“Tell me you won’t leave” he says in a soft susurration.

I groan in response and that doesn’t please him.

“Say it.. please baby”

With perspiration accumulating on his forehead, he stares anxiously into my amplified pupils searching for contentment in an answer so I choke one out.

“I won’t-ah I won’t leave”

Looking satisfied he resumes giving me adequate strokes. He aggressively picks up his speed and I clutch the bedding beneath me, wailing a war cry of his name.

“Ooo my gaw- ffffu” I weep as my fingers cramp from how hard I’m crumpling the comforter between them.

I can’t create complete sentences as he fucks so much air into my pulsating orifice from his sloppy strokes that my pussy begins to make bubbles of clear cream tinted foam, causing embarrassing queefs to accompany the squishing sounds of my lactating walls.

“Yesss give it to me.. ri- right there” I hold my mouth agate and sob louder. He takes the opportunity to spit into my inviting portal. The frothy translucent blob falls onto my tongue and descends toward my tonsils while I catch my breath causing me to accidentally swallow it, to him I’m sure it looks like I eagerly swallowed his saliva. He looks proud of me and draws himself out of me entirely. Only to lean down and like he wanted back what he voluntarily gave me; he begins lapping his precum out of my cunt claiming his leakage all over again. Sopping up our juicy blend before spitting it back into my stretched opening. He sits back again and taps my thigh, demanding me to flip over. When I don’t move fast enough, he smacks the curve of my ass and clutches my hip maneuvering me on to my stomach. I prop up on all fours and arch my back how he likes it. At once he spreads my ass cheeks apart and begins cleaning the cream that compiled there from when he was fucking me into oblivion. I squeal in pleasure at the wondrous feeling of his hungry tongue polishing my wrinkled anus clean. Biting into my lip, my eyelids force shut and my neck refuses to carry the weight of my head anymore, delving my face into the mattress further, I smother myself. Attentively listening to the pleased humming sounds vibrating from his throat. When he was satisfied with his job, he crouched onto his knees and entered me again. Pushing my disheveled hair to the side he grasps the back of my neck and rams into me harder. My panties begin to slide to their original position and he uses his hanging hand to snag them, yanking so hard the lace snaps leaving limp strings around my hips. By now I can tell he’s close because he can’t hold back his moans any longer and he doesn’t pull completely out before rummaging back in anymore, he’s pumping his entire length inside of me relentlessly.

Taking the opportunity in-between calling out the creator and moaning Hoseoks name I slip my gown over my head and bore my bare chest. The cold air hitting my solid nipples is a awkward contrast to the heat hes making my body feel. He rotates his hips in circles, massaging my ass cheeks apart for more access.

“umf, harder please, fuck me harder Hoseok”

Gripping the meat of my ass, scrunching my stretch marks into zebra print he obliges, forcing into me harder.

“Say you love me” his shaky voice bellows while wiping the sweat from the sticky hairs that bonded themselves to his forehead.

I comply immediately. “I love you I love you so much Hoseok, please cummm in me”

Vice gripping my walls around his buried shaft. As if he was possessed, he stills inside of me. With his twitching dick becoming even harder he throbs his seeds into my pussy, plugging the thick discharge inside of me with his width. Piling all of his weight on top of me he collapses on my back, forcing me to lay flat on my stomach. His steamy exhales danced on my nape as he kissed his gratitude into my neck. When he finally catches his breath, he sits up and forces my legs together in a planking position. Taking his semi hard dick between my mushed pussy lips. Though over sensitive for him he wants to give me my release before he goes soft. He rocks into me, smacking my ass cheeks like bongos, fucking his warm gooey semen into me making a mess below my mound.

“Cum for me y/n.. cum all over my dick”

As my eyes roll painfully and I scream his name in a trance I begin thrashing like a fish on land, cumming in ecstasy. He presses his palms into my back holding me down while I ride out my orgasm. When my muscles finally relax, he sighs in fatigue and like a rag that had been sitting in bath water too long, he pulls his flaccid dick out from between my folds. Plopping his tired limps beside. I lift a leg over his sticky body too hot and messy to cuddle, and he holds onto my sore thigh, closing his tired eyes. As our breathes calm and heartbeats stabilize, we drift into dreamland.

I wake up before Hoseok with the sun cavorting on the surface of my skin, unpleasantly radiating its shine and heat directly into my bare face. I peer over at him fast asleep noticing we became untangled in our hibernation. As not to wake him I roll my naked dry cum stained body out of bed and start my morning routine in the bathroom, showering the expired evidence of love making down the drain, brushing the morning breath from my tongue and teeth. Forty odd minutes later I emerge from the restroom to a still resting Hoseok. I decide to let him sleep a bit longer since. Tip toeing into the kitchen and closing the door carefully behind me I begin the Keurig. Pulling out a pan to start a bacon, cheddar cheese and green onion omelet, a cutting board to dice strawberries, and a clean coffee mug from the wooden cabinet. I’m smearing strawberry jam onto a slice of buttered toast when a groggy Hoseok appears in the hallway, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, pouting the distance to me, planting his parched morning kisses on my lips.

“Good morning love”

“Good morning baby, did you sleep good?”

He nods his response and hugs my waist, closely pressing my body to his. We share a few more gentle intimate kisses before he struts his lazy limbs to the living room, flopping onto the couch. Within a few minutes I bring him his breakfast and start wiping down the counters while he hastily finishes his meal and scurries to get dressed for work. He breezes past me with a quick goodbye peck and snatches his keys from the steel rack beside the door, before I can blink the door shuts behind him. Alone, I prance over to the living room in my house robe and collect the dish with only a few bites left on it, taking the plate to the kitchen to be cleaned in waiting steamy dish water.

I use his fork to send the scraps of his breakfast into the trash bin, bringing the jelly and grease stained dish over to the sink and rubbing the soap suds into it, smudging the reminisces of breakfast into it before rinsing it clean in the opposite sink. After placing it onto the drying rack. I go to the living room to grab the mug I had forgotten initially that previously homed bitter black coffee, on my way back to the mugs destination I glance out of the window at him just a few floors below, pulling out of his parking spot in the direction of his employer. Exhaling heavily from the suppressed breath I had been holding since I cried myself awake last night. I roll on the balls of my feet with the empty coffee mug in hand and bring it to the kitchen counter placing it down on the marble and begin digging into the drawer just below where the ceramic mug sits, pulling out a thin stack of pink sticky notes and an ink pen I begin to write.

“Hoseok I need to do what’s best for me, I know you’ll understand”

Nervous he won’t comprehend my sincere tone I add a heart in the top right corner for good measure. Pealing the used paper from its stack I trace my finger over the sticky layer, tacking it onto the dry erase grocery list board on the fridge, smearing the word milk beneath my small goodbye note.

- Z

(Possible Pt2)

READ: If you post my content in any form; (video, translation, inspiration etc.) without PROPER credit, I’ll consider that plagiarism. All I ask is that you link or tag my Tumblr.

Example: * Written by: Futzzzy @ Tumblr.com*

Re-posted by: (your user name)

#jhope #bts #fanfic #smut #hobi #hoseok

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headstrongblake · 5 years

Note

💥 Try to calm my muse during an overwhelming emotional moment

MEMES ————————— @trikrulinkon with appearance from @myhiraeth

Both Fox and Octavia are sat on the couch, lap top as close to them as possible as they greet Bellamy with waves of how are you’s, we love you’s, and speaking over each other. It’s really the beginning of all their calls. Except this one is already frustrating. The connection’s spotty and by the time Fox got up to play with the pups, giving O the first half of the call, Bellamy’s voice and picture no longer matched up. Truthfully? She hates the calls. Would much rather have a full letter ( or bellamy to stop leaving ). Skype is always spotty and the chats are too short with her brother before she’s passing the lap top to Foxie so her best friend can have the second half of the call. The only part she enjoyed was physically hearing his voice.

He usually likes her to just jump right into catching him up on life from the last call but as she’s launching in to a tale of her latest adventure on a hiking trip with Lincoln before he’d left for a rotation to a hospital nearby, Bellamy’s cutting her off—

O, you’re not going to be able to write for awhile, I’ll—-The call crackled too much for her to hear every word —something your way when I can. Octavia’s hand went to the screen on her lap top, trying to reposition it towards her as if that would make the skype call clearer. “What’s happening, Bell?” Her brows furrow, not understanding why he’s saying that–-what’s going on? Why can’t they write? The worry in her tone must have caught Fox’s attention because before O knew it, Fox had left Bear and Terra to wrestle for their rope alone and was standing beside the couch. Listen, I can’t tell you much, camps moving. “What? Bell, why?” This isn’t right. It’s never happened before that she knew of and her brother’s been leaving for the military since she was fourteen. His pixalized features appeared to be looking around before he focused on the screen again. Hey, hey, don’t worry ‘bout it, O—just tell Fox and I’ll writ— her brother’s features froze together, cutting his words and all the sound off at once before the skype shut down. Just like that he was gone again. “Bell? Bellamy?” Her finger went to the mouse as she leaned forward, trying to reconnect the call. “Bellamy!”

——————————————————-

After Octavia’s reaction to her brother’s call earlier, it took more than a few moments of convincing before Fox agreed that she couldn’t miss her shift at the diner. Octavia offered to keep Bear during Foxie’s shift and that the two could just stay the night—it’d be fun. Dinner and a sleepover seemed to placate Fox’s apprehension at leaving, at least a little. “Stop looking at me like that,” Octavia scoffed, rolling her eyes as she ushered her best friend towards the door. “The kids and I’ll play all day, really–-I have a presentation to finish for class, and besides I’m fine.” Before Fox could protest anymore, O gave her a smile and a wave before plopping herself down on the couch with Terra and Bear eagerly awaiting permission to lay with her.

By lunch time, Octavia was neck deep in articles and different news sites searching for some sort of clue as to what might be happening in her brother’s world. With no actual location and just generalization, she was left looking at horrific event after horrific event all over the world imagining Bellamy there. The news channel played in the background causing Octavia to stop and glance up every so often, especially when anything to do with their military was mentioned. Normally, she avoids the channel while the boys are away except for classes. Both of them have told her it’s not worth it but this time— she can’t stop. All she can see is her brother in one bad situation to another.

Her phone buzzing with Lincoln’s ringtone shifted her attention from her lap top to her cell phone. Hey babe, surprise, I’m coming home for the long weekend, I’ll be in around 4. For a few moments it’s bliss. She takes in a deep breath before putting the phone aside.There’s a calmness that peaks into her senses because Lincoln’s always been the calm to her chaos but he’s still two hours away.

The entire day, Octavia doesn’t move from her spot scrolling through different web pages on her lap top and phone while the television played in the background. The only thing that caused her to move finally was Bear and Terra whining about being cooped up all day. She sighed sadly, reaching forward to scratch behind both of their ears. At the attention both dogs perked up, Bear rushing towards the front door before he just stood there wagging his tail as he looked between the door and Octavia. “Alright, let’s go.” Quickly, Octavia changed into more running appropriate attire ( running might help the noise in her head ) before writing a quick note to Lincoln in case he arrived before she got back.

Babe, glad you’re home! I invited Foxie and Bear for a sleepover, sorry didn’t know you’d be back tonight—I just took the pups out but I’ll be home soon. Foxie’s done around 5 and I thought we could order in tonight.

Cant wait to see you, O

With two leashes in hand and both pups absolutely buzzed to get outside, Octavia reached for the door, just as the deadbolt unlocked and someone else turned the knob first. A smile appeared on her features as she saw Lincoln and his duffel bag coming through the front door. Terra’s tail started to go crazy but she patiently awaited Lincoln’s cue before she moved from her space at Octavia’s legs. “Hey, I thought I had more time before you got in—I really have to get the kids out, it’s been a long day inside.” She stepped forward shoving her phone into the running pouch she kept on her arm before she leaned up on her toes to press a kiss to Lincoln quickly. “I’m going to run them a bit and be back quick babe.” Before he had much of a chance to say anything, she slipped out the door with the dogs while he moved further inside.

————————————————

It was a later night for the trio but it was easier for Octavia to breathe with her best friend and boyfriend laughing around her. Though the intrusive thoughts surrounding fear and Bellamy lingered in her mood and presence the whole time. Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes and for the most part she allowed Fox and Lincoln to lead the conversations for the evening. They’d ordered food, watched a few movies, and talked about Lincoln’s rotation but before long, Bear was nudging Fox to move off the couch for bed.

Sounds of Terra’s snoring mixed with the fan running in their bedroom as Octavia laid staring up at the ceiling. She’d rested against Lincoln as he drifted off to sleep expecting to follow suit soon after but despite feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing, she couldn’t relax. Couldn’t shut off the damn noise. With her eyes shut all she could see was the articles. The horrors repeating on a dreadful loop because she’s spent all day obsessing.

Her cell phone said 3:17 as she slipped out of bed and made her way into the living room. She hated tossing and turning next to Lincoln. Would prefer to not wake him with her worries. Her body sunk into the couch as she pulled the small blanket off the back of the couch to curl up while she sifted through different apps on her phone.

Octavia pressed her fingertips against her palm, gently digging into her skin to steady the anxiety in her chest as eyes scroll through a recent news article dated two hours ago. Her brows furrowed, reading more about a shooter attack in a market that’s claimed eleven lives already with the number of injured rising. At this point her eyes are scanning, no longer reading every single detail. She’s only looking for a few certain words. Six shooters. One dead. Three apprehended. An unidentified soldier. Her jaw clenched, heart rate rising in her chest as she sat up. An unidentified soldier dead at the scene. Every nerve in her body began firing, sending her into a panic. Just like that, it’s like the walls of her home have begun to close in on her. Wanting to suffocate her. She can’t breathe.

Shaking fingers tossed her phone at the coffee table in frustration. In the dark however, she accidentally hit her metal water bottle on the table causing it to come crashing down on the floor. An unidentified soldier dead. First, she heard the clicking of Terra’s claws exiting the bedroom before a lamp clicked on in the bedroom.

It’s unlikely it’s Bellamy...but what if it is? What if it’s her brother and he’s never coming back to her? Even if it’s not him now, how long is it until it does become his fate? What if that’s the only fate all these men have? Fuck, she hates this. She hates not knowing what’s going on. She hates feeling this helpless!!! And that’s what it boils down to, there’s absolutely nothing she can do. Period.

An unidentified soldier. Suddenly it’s like she’s that petrified child barely in grade school again—being shoved to the back of Bellamy’s closet while two drunk adults raged a war with each other just out of reach of the bedrooms. Be quiet, don’t move until I open this door, Bell told her. Quickly, he was gone and she was left alone in the dark, fearing for whatever came next. It’s that same agonizing fear for his life that she experienced back then, that same panic like she was about to never see her brother again took hold over her very being. He’d come back to her then with a bloodied shirt and a swollen face…what would he look like this time? Would he come back to her?

O, what’re you doing? Hues shifted towards Lincoln briefly, head shaking as tears streamed down her cheeks. She tried to breathe, tried to focus enough to form words to answer Lincoln but nothing came out. Nothing but whimpers as she imagined her brother’s death. Imagined he was already gone. You need to calm down. “No, no, no, no, I can’t.” Her arm stretched across her stomach, holding herself tightly as he sat beside her on the couch. Her head shook as she struggled to pull a full breath into her lungs. An unidentified soldier.

Fox stepped out of the second bedroom turned office then, Bear following at her heels as she slowly made her way into the scene before her. O, tell me what’s happening—Octavia could hear his voice. Could understand he was there next to her, his hand gripping her free one but his words sounded a thousand miles away. Their camps moving—we had a skype earlier but it cut out. Fox’s words hesitated like she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to be sharing but continued anyways, Bellamy didn’t tell her what’s happening just that he’ll send word when he can. Fox and Lincoln’s gaze met for a moment before Octavia felt his fingers brushing bits of hair back as his hand gripped the side of her face. Octavia, O, there’s a million reasons why they’d move.

Her head continued to shake, breaths trembling as her face turned red. Both hands came to cup her face, forcing her gaze to match his. Breathe with me. “I need….I need…I need him,” She choked out between sobs. He’s okay, your brother is strong, you’re strong, O, okay, you just need to breathe. Her lip quivered but she held his gaze before leaning forward to press her forehead against his. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Finally, she took a slow deep breath in. Then another and another.

“I’m afraid, Lincoln.”

#trikrulinkon #answered memes || αím fσr thє thrσαt; slαsh dσn't stαв. mαkє ít dєєp.#myhiraeth #v. military || letters from home

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selenelavellan · 6 years

Text

Intoxication

Vampire AU

Smut overwhelmingly won the Halloween Poll, so here we are. Enjoy <3.

Anaris and Melarue(both mentioned) are @justanartsysideblogs

Dirthamen, Deceit, and Fear are @feynites

It's a bit of madness, when they start.

Things develop quickly enough that no one has time for second thoughts, for doubts or worries to sink in or take hold. It's practically a haze.

A searing, blazing, haze of flesh and blood and...fuck, there are so many hands and fingers and she's supposed to be keeping track, supposed to be better at this.

She used to be better at this, she thinks.

But there's a mouth on her neck and a tongue laving her skin while a growl rumbles out of her throat and into the mouth of another elf that tastes like lavender and ice cream and it's good, it's good, it's so fucking good. She'd forgotten how good it feels to be touched, almost. Except she's let them touch her before, but it wasn't-

It was something else, before.

She was in their lap and on top and in control of the situation, but there's no perspective on this, on what's happening now, where she's the one in control. Their fingers undo the buttons of her blouse slowly and purposefully while her nails catch and snag on the fine fabric of their pants-she's not even sure whose, at this point, but fuck she wants them both, wants them both to want her, wants to taste them and consume them and devour them.

Wants to drag them down to where she is; frenzied and hungry and turned on in a way she'd forgotten she was even capable of. She's been so cold and still and without so much as a heartbeat for centuries but somehow these two have managed to set her ablaze without sunlight and it's good, it's good, it's so good.

They could turn her to ash this way and she would thank them for the opportunity.

Selene has just enough sense left in her to wonder how this even happened; how she had gone from Deceit, strumming and smiling on one of their instruments while their lord Dirthamen had read aloud to her, to arching and keening and craving them like an animal that hasn't fed in months.

Ah yes. Poetry.

How pathetic; horny and turned to a puddle of nearly-there-already goo from some pretty mortal reciting poetry.

She'd be embarrassed, if anyone else ever had to know.

Her reputation down in flames, certainly unable to ever look Anaris in the eye again.

'Sorry I keep turning down the invitations to your orgies, but do give me a call if you ever decide to have a poetry reading.'

It's disgraceful, is what it is.

Feeding into stereotypes of rich, upper class vampires who only feed on doe-eyed innocent mortals and live in large lavish mansions and....hrm...well....

That's not really what matters now, she supposes.

Dirthamen finally pulls back from their kiss and she nearly chases after him, hungry for another taste already, so soon. Body eager and pleading for more, so much more. But Deceit fills in the gap while Dirthamen drops to his knees and it's spice and warmth while their fingers rise up from the base of her skull to curl into her curls while Dirthamens lips find her legs and whisper a teasing trail up to where they meet before the dear, cursed, man stops just before he gets where she wants him, where she needs him, where she might already be ash for all she knows from the heat of it all.

“May I taste you?” He asks, blue eyes dark and vibrant in the flickering torchlight, pupils nearly blown already while he waits for her permission.

She should answer him. That'd be the polite thing to do here, she supposes.

But then, they'd passed polite back when he'd started kissing lewd lines into her flesh, soft lips exploring cold skin and leaving longing in their wake.

Her fingers bury in the dark silken strands of his hair, the ribbon that normally keeps it respectably tied back falling away with a clean tear of her nails, while she guides his head wantonly to the consuming ache between her legs.

Selene lets out a sigh of relief when his mouth finally covers her and wonders if, perhaps, she made the wrong choice not simply stealing him back to her home that first night.

She moans out Dirthamens name only to be greeted with Deceits body pressed firmly against her back, their cheek pressed to hers. The smell of them here, now, so close and so warm is intoxicating.

Fuck, how is she supposed to deal with all of this in her current state? She had come here to feed and gotten all caught up in...romance, she supposes. Something deep in her heats up at the thought, igniting her further while she pushes Dirthamen harder against herself with a heavy moan.

Deceits hands roam over her skin, their own clothing long discarded in the events while her head is spinning, overwhelmed with muscles taut and straining, hips bucking towards the tongue delving deep into her cunt.

Her hand leaves Dirthamens head at Deceits prodding, wrapping up and around where they stand behind her while they gently remind her that “Us mortals need to breathe.”

She gives an unimpressed grunt in return, unable to really manage anything more intelligible at the moment.

She used to be better at this, she berates herself again.

Dirthamen pulls back to take a few deep breaths and she whines at the loss but Deceit keeps her pressed firmly against them. She could escape, if she really tried. But breaking physical contact with either of them is exactly the opposite of what she wants right now, so she relents while Deceit splays her open in their lap. Her knees skid against the cold wood of the floor while he lowers the both of them down to the ground.

It hurts, but it's a good pain.

Grounding, and solid.

Deceits erection presses insistently against her backside while Dirthamen returns his mouths attentions to her core and she loses the last of her coherency. There's only tongues and fingers and flesh, and she cries out for both, pressing backwards and forwards, craving intimacy and passion and blood.

One of their fingers slips into her mouth and she snatches it greedily, her own tongue twisting around it. Sucking until it scrapes against a fang, and blood leaks from it into her mouth.

And then it is a frenzy.

The elf behind her moans and ruts against her while she feeds from them, sucking their finger and wishing it were their cock instead. Wanting them filling her, flooding her, fucking her.

They pull their finger from her mouth and she whines again, nearly falling forward onto Dirthamen. Her eyes slit open and catch contact with Fear in the corner, and one of her own fingers curls towards them.

“Come here,” She requests. She can feel it from here; not purposely, she's not trying to pull at their mind or their memories, but their wants are so strong she can feel them from across the room while they watch. Nanae mentioned this could happen; magic materializing in strange ways as she 'ages', often without control or true intention.

In another state of mind, it might even be cause for her to leave.

But not now.

Not here.

She watches their throat bob and growls, low and deep in her throat, and wonders what they will taste like. If they will be sweet, or bitter, or maybe just taste like copper.

She finds herself intensely curious of the answer, in any case.

“Not today,” They manage, and some dark corner of her mind dislikes their answer. Wants to ply them into joining and taste their blood and their cunt and make them ride her wrists and thighs until they are spent and exhausted and enthralled.

But she does not press them, and instead returns her focus to the two elves already enjoying her body.

Patience.

Not her strong suit.

Dirthamen's tongue finds her clitoris and wraps around it, and she keens, attentions pulled swiftly back to matters at hand. She gives him a few more minutes, wallowing and shivering at the sensations before she pulls him away and up to her eye level, one hand cupped around his jaw while she admires his face.

Flushed and glistening and beautiful.

“Fuck me,” She says to her lovers.

Neither of them need to be told twice.

Deceit prepares her backside, a bottle of lubrication already within arms reach in his current position, while Dirthamen lines himself up in the front.

He enters her first, slowly, tentatively.

She may go mad from the strain of waiting.

But then he is fully sheathed inside her, filling her while they pant against one another, his face buried against the shoulder not currently occupied by Deceit, who is still slowly and gently stretching out her ass.

Mortals, she huffs internally.

For creatures with so little time, they sure do enjoy a slow burn.

She grows less patient and more hungry, more needy, mind and body just wanting them to fill her and fuck her already. Her patience finally snaps as she thrusts back into them, taking Deceit inside her in one solid go.

It knocks the wind out of them both for a moment, before they can catch up to her pace.

And then it is good, it's good, it's so good.

Her body twists and pants and arches between them, pulling and pushing, clutching and craving. One hand twisted in each of their hair, barely able to tell where one ends and the other begins but fuck it doesn't even matter. They've got her, propped up between them and she's drowning and suffocating on the scent of them, fangs and nails long and sharp and fuck, fuck, they're hers now, no going back. Her mind and body reacting more strongly than they ever have in her long memory, hips rolling with their rhythm; rough and deep, and full. A haze of lust and passion and desire.

Intoxicating.

Dirthamen's rhythm finally stutters as the sweat on his brow drips to the wooden floor beneath them, his fingers pressing deeper into her hips where he is holding on, a long low groan falling from his lips and Selenes eyes go wide with realization as she feels him flood her.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

She cant' help it. She cums, clenching down on the both of them and dragging Deceit along with her as her muscles clench and tighten and there is a bright burst of white light behind her eyelids before she is shivering in the aftermath. Slick and still tightly held between the pair.

Her chest heaves, hands sliding out of their hair to rub gently against each of their cheeks.

Deceits finger is still bleeding slowly where it rests against her breast.

She waits a few moments for their heartbeats to return to a normal rhythm.

And starts round two.

–

#vampire au #dirthalene #selene lavellan #literally every voter mentioned wanting this piece #i love everyone in this bar #i was going to do a bit in the end #about them losing track of time and Selene having to spend the day hiding in the wine cellar #but i just ran out of time #besides this way its a good pwp i suppose #if Dirthamen seems a bit more....action based than usual #blame it on the thrall <_<

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deepstrangeclaims-blog · 5 years

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my university anxiety

I have a little thing called anxiety. I used to be the type of person who had no problem talking to people or making friends. However, these past few months have been so hard for me. I’ve been struggling to be able to talk to people and it leaves me agitated and anxious for pretty much the entire day. I’m always so alert and hostile to my surroundings. I feel like I’m dragging my body around because I just do not want to be in a social situation. I begin to feel the most anxious at night which sometimes stops me from getting any sleep. I’ve accepted that my social anxiety is just a part of me, I don’t know what to do sometimes. I’m unable to talk to people without stuttering or wondering what they think of me.

Let me tell you how I found out I have anxiety. Back in August last summer, on the train to see my friend, I realised that I felt really panicked. My chest just felt really heavy like someone was pressing down on it really hard. I was struggling to breathe properly because there was just so many people. I couldnt handle this feeling and I really wanted it to stop. As I was walking to the train, I felt like the person behind me was going to attack me. When I finally sat down, I felt so worried. I felt anxious. There were a group of girls the same age as me sat opposite me and I was so concerned about what they were thinking of me. What they were saying. Why was I so bothered about them? I felt like I was losing my mind. My heart stopped. It was crazy how I just felt so alone. I felt so isolated from everyone and like I was in my own world. Every time I was in a social situation I would begin to panic. Whenever someone sat next to me on the train my hands would start shaking. My throat would feel dry and it would be hard for me to breathe. I’d have to rub my hand on my thigh and take deep breaths to calm myself down. Sometimes i get so scared that my whole body feels cold and I’m shaking. I feel so trapped and suffocated. So one day I decided to go see the doctor and the doctor made me fill out some questionnaire and she told me that I have anxiety. She recommended me some general sedatives to calm myself down, nothing of high dosage or anything. She said if it gets really bad I’ll have to see the therapist and go as far as taking antidepressants.

Nights before uni were the worst. I would be so anxious about going to uni the next day that I wouldn’t be able to sleep all night. I would think to myself, look, you’re gonna have to socialise, you’re gonna have to talk to people, youre gonna have to socialise, youre gonna have to go there and there’s gonna be so many people around you. I’m not strong enough to make friends. I dont understand why im like this. I want to make friends but I just cant. I wouldn’t feel refreshed whenever I woke up and I was trying to wake up early for my classes but I couldn’t even do that. I would wake up like I was hungover and felt like I was hit by a truck. I thought okay I can’t do this, I can’t live like this, it just doesn’t feel right to me. I would be going back and forth to the doctors almost every two weeks telling them about my anxiety and how the medications wouldnt work. at this point i was so desperate to overcome it. Then I was like okay its fine it’ll pass but it just wouldn’t pass it kept happening day after day night after night. I wouldnt even know what was going around me through the day because I was just so tired and isolated due to my lack of sleep the night before. I keep on cancelling on my friends whenever they offer to go out and even they became concerned. I told them everything about how its hard for me to talk to people and they told me not to worry and that it’ll pass. I usually feel numb and out of it. Making friends is hard for me. whenever my friends introduce me to someone I feel like they don’t like me because of my awkward communication skills. I find it hard to make a conversation or keep it going incase i say something stupid or begin to stutter and embarrass myself. I can not talk to new people and there is only a selective number of people am I able to have conversations with. I’m constantly scared of saying something that will upset people or make them hate me, afraid I’m annoying or I complain too much. my room is the safest place for me. i hate leaving my house i’d rather be in my room, in solitude.

i stay away from people in classrooms, i sit alone at lectures or seminars or when im hanging out on campus and sometimes eat lunch alone because i would rather be in solitude since i need to get so much work done. the campus is quite overwhelming because theres so many people and i just want to do my work alone. it’s made my life a living hell. it’s like i go through circles and can’t pull myself out of it. you wanna make uni friends but you dont. its all like a spiral you cant help it. you know you dont wanna be anxious. you know you wanna make friends and all that stuff but you cannot.

Sometimes I would run into the toilets to have a panic attack. Those are the worst. i would struggle to breathe and not see anything. i would feel like I’m drowning. i feel like im dying. like something is pushing down on me. at this point i can’t breathe and i begin to cry because i just feel so anxious and scared and my chest feels so tight. it’s made my life a living hell.

I didnt know what was going on because I couldnt handle what was happening inside of my body and it wasnt hapening to anybody else. I just wanted to get rid of his feeling and I wanted to understand what was going on with me for so long, I didnt. I was so sick and tired of it. You cant help it. You know you dont wanna be anxious you know you wanna have a good day but you physically cannot because the workload is just pulling you back. My anxiety had just gone so bad and I hadn’t experienced this before. My anxiety was so bad that I don’t see a life without it and because of that I trapped myself into this sort of shell.

I have to perform well in my assignments I have to do well I cannot so bad. I dont want to go down a different route. I study hard, but because of the amount of anxiety I have to perform well I’m basically scared of everything, I’m going through university in utter fear. This anxiety monster has literally taken over my life and I’m so sick and tired of it. On top of it all, I have this heavy workload from uni which I find really hard to manage. I’m constantly comparing myself to others. I’ll never be as smart as them. I want to be smart like them. I want to be a smart student. I have to be intelligent I want good grades but the fact that I know theres people out there who have higher grades than me makes me feel like the effort I Put into achiee those higher grades are worthless, because no mayter what I do and how much work I put in, there will always be someone better than me. I get annoyed at myself for not doing as well as other students. I’ll never be smart like them.

dude, why am I like this? Why do I care so much about them? I try not but just I can’t stop myself. it’s so annoying.

It’s like I have to do well in my assignment otherwise I get so scared and anxious about my future. If I don’t do well, I’ll have no future. What will I do if I failed? I’ll probably have no job. I have to study hard, I have to do well because if I don’t I won’t get a job. I spend nights completing assignments or studying topics for my exams. I get given assignment after assignment and sometimes theres 2 assignments in for one day, I have this constant pressure to achieve highly because I’m just so scared about my future. Not only that, I’m scared to fail. I can’t fail. I get annoyed at myself for spending time sleeping when I could’ve spent that time studying, I could’ve gotten so much work done. I wouldn’t have to worry

#anxiety #experiences #university #student

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proudpukwudgie · 7 years

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The Scarf - Newt x Reader - Part 2

Holy shit. here it is, yall. part two. finally. the original was posted almost a FULL YEAR AGO and oh man i cannot believe that. i cant believe my account is over a year old. what in the Heck. I love you guys all so much and consider this fic an apology for the unannounced hiatus I took.

Without further ado!!!!! Here is the much-awaited part two!! A lot of people asked me to tag them, so I made a separate post where I tagged them and linked here. I hope you enjoy!!

Warnings: adult themes but nothing explicit. angst, followed by so much fluff you might suffocate! Part one can be found here.

You had never laid eyes on an article of clothing so beautiful before in your life. It wasn’t glitzy or overly extravagant, but it was beautiful in its purity and simplicity. The fabric fell like waves, a soft eggshell color. The plain base part of the dress was made of satin that gleamed in the thin light filtering in through the curtains that obscured the window, and the delicate overlay of Georgette fabric complimented it perfectly. It was simply incredible and incredibly simple at the same time.

You were dreading having to don the gorgeous thing, and your throat tightened at the very thought of it. Your hair was done, your makeup had been painted, your neck perfumed and your hands manicured all in preparation for the dreaded marriage, but finally slipping the dress on was the last thing you had left to do. It felt as though it the one thing that stood between you and the sealing of your fate, so final, your last admittance to yourself that yes, you were going through with this after all; it would make the whole situation seem real to you, once you physically felt that fabric in your hands and secured the suffocating corset to your body. It would solidify it all, shifting everything into place (your poor, unsuspecting organs included, if you knew anything about the nature of corsets), and you were planning to delay the finality of that as long as you possibly could. You had done so many things in preparation, but that all might as well have been a long, bizarre nightmare that you had been floating through with no real attachment. Seeing yourself in the dress would make it real, and you were in no way prepared for that.

You had been gifted with rose petals the night before by your aunt, who was now your step-mother-in-law-to-be (what a mouthful), so you smelled very faintly of rose water from your bath the night before. The wedding was to be indoors, in the ballroom of Duncan’s expansive family home, and you could hear the muffled sounds of violinists rehearsing from where you sat on the bed of the guest bedroom. Your favorite flowers were everywhere, and the air smelled vaguely of your favorite desert, which had been mass-prepared for the afterparty. Everything about the setting was lovely and perfect in the most traditional of ways, and that was precisely what twisted the whole thing into your own personal hell. Each lovely thing seemed to mock you, and you could almost hear irony’s delighted and sinister whispering of isn’t this what you wanted? Isn’t it beautiful? Isn’t it perfect?

It was. It was beautiful. It should have been a dream, like what you had oft imagined as a small girl, but it now served as the setting for a hellish nightmare. It was like one big, cruel plot to ruin every last bit of your comfort and happiness. You felt sure that after this day, you would never be able to eat your favorite dessert again without getting physically sick. It would all be ruined for you. Even the nature of the situation was dreamlike, and you floated through it as if in a stupor, a serene sense of denial enveloping you and keeping you calm. The way time was seeming to slow down, to creep on, the smiling faces you couldn’t really bring into focus or recognize, the garbled way all the voices fell on your ears, the way each movement you made seemed to require conscious effort. Your heart was thundering in your ears and every part of your speech seemed automatic and unconscious. It was like you were asleep.

You got slowly to your feet and made your way over to your suitcases. They held all of the things you would need for your honeymoon in France, but there was only one thing in there that really mattered to you, and you kneeled to open your suitcase and find it.

There it lay, among a pile of your socks, pajamas, and underwear, folded and placed with such care. Your shaky hands gripped it, pulling it to your face. It was slightly scratchy and pilled, but it still brought you comfort and soft happiness. It grounded you, and made the events seem somehow both more real and less overwhelming. It still smelled like him. Like leather and earth and pine trees, like sawdust and dew, and like that one specific scent you couldn’t quite identify that was unique to him. It made you sad, but at the same time it gave you comfort by association. You got to your feet, still grasping the scarf in your hands, and went back to the bed. You laid it carefully on the soft and pricey sheets, smoothing over it with your fingers and taking a deep breath. The contrast of the cheap, slightly scratchy material of the scarf and the expensive and smooth liquid silk of the sheets against your fingers was amusing to you in some strange way; the former was your final haven and the latter, though it logically should have been more pleasant, made you feel almost physically ill. “I need you with me for this, Newt,” you murmured. “and this is the closest thing to you I’m going to have,”

You turned slowly to the dress, dread almost rooting you to the spot, but in a suddenly forceful and swift movement you pulled it off the hanger and let it pool at your feet. You stepped carefully into it and pulled it up over your slip, tugging the fabric over your hips. You felt the soft brush of the silk against the bare skin of your legs, and the Georgette fabric was almost ticklish on your shoulders. You tied the corset loosely at your back with a slight struggle, resolving to have someone else fix it later, and drew a shaky breath before turning to look in the full length mirror, but before you got a chance to look, there was a small rapping at the door. “Come in,” you called, the sickly sweet tone of your voice foreign to you. Your father swung the door open, a gentle smile on his face. He held a small box in his hands and his expression imitated happiness, but his eyes betrayed the fact that he was sad.

“You look lovely,” he said.

You smiled faintly, walking over to him. “Thank you, papa,”

You stood in silence for a moment, both unsure what to say next, shuffling uncomfortably. At last, he looked up at you and held the box out with trembling hands. His eyes were glassy, filled with affection and melancholy. “Your mother... this is one of the only things I have left from her. She purchased it for your sister’s first birthday, saying that it was for her to wear to her wedding someday, but that day hasn’t come for her yet,” he said.

You took the box, lifting the lid off carefully, and your eyes grew wide. It was pure silver, and absolutely breathtaking. The design was ornate, vinelike with leaf patterns and twists and turns, and diamonds were sprinkled strategically across it. It had a high choker collar, and the front expanded down to your chest and collarbones when you slipped it on and snapped it closed in the back. It made it somewhat hard to move your neck, but it was nothing short of stunning. You turned to look in the mirror at last, tears of both intense sadness and awe in your eyes as you regarded yourself properly for the first time.

“She would have been proud of you,” he said softly, placing his hand on your arm lightly. “For being so brave through all of this. This necklace was for your sister, but she would have wanted you to have it,”

“It’s beautiful,” you managed to croak out at last, emotion heavy in your voice. “Are these... are they real?” you murmured, brushing your fingers against the diamonds that now dotted your throat and chest.

He chuckled slightly. “Of course they are,” he said, looking somewhat nostalgic for a moment. “Your mother had...expensive tastes. She always wanted the best and most beautiful, no matter how much money she spent to get that,” he said fondly, shaking his head fondly at your mother’s habits as though spending ludicrous amounts of money had been just another endearing quirk of hers.

You tapped your fingernail against the silver, heart racing with sudden anticipation. Your mind whirled to keep up with the information he was presenting to you, and for the first time in four months you felt the genuine warmth of hope blooming in your chest. “Expensive...expensive tastes?” you spluttered out, eyes wide in something like disbelief. As though you had to see as much of this as you could to properly believe what was unfolding before you. “How expensive?”

He clearly wasn’t catching on to your implications, as he looked thoughtful for a moment. “She purchased it at an auction, I believe, for around, nine, ten thousand? It seems like so much now, but back then, it wasn’t quite so-”

You whirled around to grip his shoulders, digging your fingers in unintentionally in your excitement. “Papa. How much would this necklace sell for?” you asked wildly, startling him. He blinked at you quizzically.

“Probably about the same,”

You dropped your hands to your side, eyes glowing. “Thank you, Papa! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you cried, throwing your arms around his shoulders for a moment. Tears prickled in your eyes and your lip trembled, relief coursing through you in waves. You pulled away to look at his bewildered face for a moment. “This is just... the best gift I’ve ever received,”

He smiled a little bit, overwhelmed and confused. “Your mother did have wonderful taste,” he replied. “you apparently take after her more than I had thought,” he said with a thoughtful quirk of his mouth, clearly under the impression that your excitement was due to the fine quality of the necklace. It was due to the fine quality of the necklace, but not for the reason that he seemed to think.

You ushered him out the door swiftly. “Listen, Papa, I really need to finish getting ready, so please come get me again when it’s time for you to escort me down the aisle!” you chirped, moving to swing the door closed behind him, but pausing to look at him for a moment. “I love you, Papa. Thank you for everything you have done to support me through this,” you murmured, fondness and guilt filling you at the idea of leaving your father behind to face the wrath of his ex-future-inlaws-who-are-still-technically-his-inlaws-just-not-through-his-daughter (another mouthful, my goodness).

You whirled around. The wedding was soon, and you had no time to change into proper clothes, so you slid across the floor and grabbed one of your suitcases, flinging it open and pulling everything out with little care for tidiness. You followed suit with each of your other suitcases, sorting through the pile of your belongings to grab only the essentials and shove them into one case. You snapped that closed and threw the curtains open, undoing the latch to your window and letting the warm summer breeze in. Freedom. The wind smelled of grass, flowers and freedom.

You didn’t need to marry Duncan to get all that money. You could just sell your mother’s necklace.

You were on the first floor, and you dropped your suitcase out the window and made a move to follow it, but hesitated for a moment. You turned back quickly, snatching your wand from the dresser and waving it hastily to summon a bit of parchment and a quill. You scrawled a half-hearted explanation note with haste, the ink blotchy and smudged, and laid it on the bed before turning back to the window. You hesitated again, wand in your teeth, before slipping back to your bed to grab the scarf and toss the gawdy and awful engagement ring beside the note for good measure. You could have sold it as well, but you were much more keen on the idea of owing Duncan absolutely nothing. Without so much as a glance over your shoulder, you hastily tied the scarf around your waist and leapt back toward the window.

You swung your leg over the windowsill, not caring whether you ripped the dress, and the instant your feet were planted in the grass, you took off running as fast as you possibly could. Your feet protested due to your fancy wedding shoes that had most certainly not been designed for such exercise, but you paid it no mind. The pain was nothing bothersome, simply a complimenting factor to the exhilaration of your sudden liberation and the heartbeat thundering in your ears. The necklace was safe in its box your suitcase, and you wasted no time high-tailing it toward the woods. You couldn’t take the main road for fear of running into a bewildered guest who was still arriving (what a story they would have had to tell) and you couldn’t leave the property through the front gate, so you figured that taking a long hike through the forest was your best bet to get out of there as fast as you possibly could. Running through the forest in your fancy clothing and painful shoes was evoking some serious nostalgia, and you felt your heart tugging painfully at the thought of your best friend.

You would not go to Newt for assistance, no matter how much you longed to. Some deep romantic part of you wanted desperately to run right out of the arms of one man and into the arms of another, which your logical side told you was absolutely ridiculous. This was not for him. This was for you and for your sister. Part of you was afraid to ask anything of Newt ever again, fearing that you had caused him an irreparable amount of pain, and you figured with a pang of sadness that you would have to learn to live with that. You had never expected him to do anything about your situation because he owed you absolutely nothing in exchange for loving him. What a ridiculous notion that was. You had known him and loved him and hurt him and thoughts of him were only a very small part of your motivation for running as far from Duncan as you possibly could.

Once you were past the tree line and the house was out of sight, you slowed down some. The most dangerous part was over. You were so close to freedom. You knew for a fact that walking about two miles in these woods would lead you to a road, and you could either hitchhike with some muggle or follow the road to the town where the train station lay. You had to go. You had to get out of there, and it didn’t matter where you went to, but you had to get out and there were too many muggles around to apparate safely. Besides, you would not risk splinching or accidentally leaving your suitcase behind near that house. You didn’t want to have to set foot in Duncan’s wretched mansion ever again.

An idea sprang into your head, and you grinned as you gripped the dress in your fists and lifted it up a little so you wouldn’t trip on it as you stepped over a log. Your sister was hospitalized, which meant that her home was empty. She had been sick for a while, but only very recently had she been admitted to full-time care at a magical medical facility, so her teeny house was still just as she’d left it. The key was under the doormat! You could go there to get yourself together and change into proper clothes before finding a jeweler or someone to sell the necklace to, and you were suddenly ecstatic. Your hair caught briefly in a branch, and you untangled yourself impatiently, your carefully pinned hairdo falling out bit by bit. It was lopsided now, and you cast a bobby pin distastefully aside. You would sell the necklace, have your father collect your things from Duncan’s home, and be freed of the responsibility of marrying him. Your sister would get the treatment she needed, and you would have a shot at being happy again.

A shot at being free.

You emerged from the woods about an hour and a half later, your feet aching and your beautiful wedding dress torn and smudged with mud from dragging along the earth behind you. Twigs were caught in your hair and your makeup was smeared in a clownlike fashion as a result of your hands wiping away at the sheen of sweat that covered your face. You had never been happier in your whole life, and you found yourself giggling reflexively as you started along the road.

It wasn’t a long walk to town, and you beamed the whole way there, taking no notice to the bewildered looks you were getting from passerby. You must have been quite the spectacle, especially to muggles, with your wand clenched in one carefully manicured hand and a suitcase in the other. You were a grinning mess, dirt and sweat and makeup smudged on your cheeks and once-pristine dress, your bare arms crisscrossed with scrapes from trees and brambles and twigs and a well-loved Hufflepuff scarf tied securely around your waist. You walked into town with a slight limp, your feet still aching terribly even with your shoes off and dangling from your hand, and smiled politely at anyone you walked past. You disregarded at all looks because frankly, you didn’t give a shit what they thought of you right now. You were where you needed to be and you had done what you needed to do to get there.

The train station was nearer than you had been expecting, and you marched up to the small stand where a man was selling tickets. “Where to...” he looked up from whatever he was writing, and looked bewildered for a moment. “...Miss? Mrs?”

You replied with the name of your sister’s town, and he looked surprised. “That’s a few hours away, ma’am,” he said as he got you a ticket. “Why are you headed there, and in such a hurry?” he inquired, gaze lingering pointedly on your wedding dress.

“Cold feet,” you said with a cheeky grin, and he raised his eyebrows but didn’t question you any further. He opened his mouth to give you the price, but you were suddenly completely disinterested in anything he had to say. You gripped your wand tight and turned away, wide eyed, to look at the thin stream of people trickling out of the train station doors with disbelief written all over your features.

“Miss...us? Missus?” he called after you, but you had swept up your suitcase and were off, pain disregarded as your bare feet flew against the rough pavement. A familiar figure had caught your eye, and you broke immediately into a sprint. He was walking rapidly, anxiously, with purpose, his signature case in hand.

“Newt!” you cried, surprised and delighted as you realized that the artificial honey that had been dripping from your words for the last few months had dissolved into raw and real joy; you found yourself wondering for a fleeting moment if you were having some bizarre dream and you were about to wake up and put on your incredibly simple dress and marry Duncan for the money, but all notions of that dissolved as he turned and his eyes met yours and his face lit up in a way that you had never seen before. You were crashing into his arms in an instant, and he was real, this was real and not a dream and he didn’t smell anything like that horrid house, of rosewater or your favorite dessert or like sickly sweet and perfect flowers, he smelled like train smoke and pine and sawdust and earth and sweat and you were crying, voice raw, all of a sudden, tears coursing down your cheeks and dripping onto his coat as he gripped you, lifting you into his arms for a moment as though he, too, needed reassurance that you were real.

You said nothing for a moment, just holding each other as tight as you could, until you pulled away and gripped his face in your hands. His familiar stubble scratched against your fingers and you grinned. “Merlin’s Beard, Newt, what on Earth are you doing here?” you cried, and he grinned back at you.

“Nice scarf,” he commented, eyes flicking to your waist, where the Hufflepuff scarf he had given you only weeks before was tied securely. “and I could ask you the same question,” he teased. “Don’t you have somewhere you’re supposed to be? A wedding, perhaps?” he chuckled a little, his eyes bright and his lips fixed in an instinctive grin.

You smoothed your thumb over his cheek, laughing breathlessly. “I don’t have to marry him. I have an old necklace of my mother’s that I can sell and I’ll still have money to spare but I didn’t know until today so I had to sneak out the window of the guest bedroom in my wedding dress and hike here through the woods,” you spoke rapidly, barely pausing to breathe, let alone articulate properly.

He started laughing even harder, eyes aglow as he gripped your hips and pulled you in to steal a swift kiss. “The Occamies hatched. They finally hatched a few days ago and I sold the shells,” he said in between little fits of laughter. “I sold the silver so that maybe I could... ah,” he paused for a moment, looking exhausted and infatuated and ecstatic all at once as he studied your face.

You looked at him with unrestrained adoration in your tearful eyes. “Why?” you found yourself murmuring in awestruck disbelief.

“Perhaps so that I could take Duncan’s place as the rich suitor who would fund your sister’s treatment,” he said, chuckling some more with both relief and amusement. “Or perhaps just as an old friend who would sacrifice anything necessary to see that you are happy,” He smiled in the way that he always did, a sort of sober honesty in his eyes as he finished his statements. “Either way...I couldn’t live with myself knowing that I could have done something but chose not to,”

At this, you pulled him in hastily for another kiss. This time, it was sloppy and desperate and your teeth clacked clumsily and you smiled into it as he leaned forward. It was, without a doubt, the best kiss you had ever had. His lips were chapped and his face was unshaven. It scratched against your skin and you grinned, tugging at his hair with a giggle as he pulled away to look at you.

You gripped Newt’s hands in yours, looking at him with happiness written plainly all over your features, and tugged him up and toward the ticket man. You hadn’t noticed, but he had been watching this emotional exchange incredulously and he eyed the pair of you with a judgmental but amused expression as you approached him.

“So I assume that will be two tickets, then,”

-------

omg it’s done??? im so ????? it’s been almost a year since I posted the first one and here we are!! the scarf: part 2!!! holy heck i hope u guys like it i had so much fun with it

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indecisivealy-blog · 7 years

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Fatal Fun.

As i gasped for air, struggling… frantic and clawing at my throat, everything slowed down. My only surroundings a blurry glimpse of the radio that read 11:21pm. The lights from the gas pumps grew dim. A high pitched ringing in my ears, and my shallow slow breathing were now the sound track to my life. My heart struggled, picking up pace so rapidly only to come to an abrupt stop, skip, a massive thud causing my body to jerk, than repeat. It all became so quiet after that, so empty…but peaceful somehow for the moment? I no longer heard the air entering and leaving my lungs. No longer could i hear my heart hanging on for dear life, convincing itself it could make it, only to meet face to face with failure in the end of its struggle. The high pitched ringing faded out and… complete and total silence. Haunting silence. Unable to literally hear a single thing. Where am I? Greeted by a darkness so thick, so cold you stand frozen unable to attempt a step forward, fingers go unnoticed an inch from my face. Every single thing is cancelled out, if i gathered the courage to say hello, would it even be heard, would it make any sort of sound? Im not alone here, i can feel others.. or things all around me. Are they trapped as well, or very familiar with this place, are they able to see me stiff and absolutely terrified? It was in no way welcoming and although i wanted nothing more than my vision, i could honestly say i don’t know if i would be prepared to see what may be lurking near by….. How did this happen, and how did i get here, outside i felt my body growing stiffer, while inside i begged for release, screaming, fighting, jolting, scratching at my body looking for a way out, i’m fighting for a way out within myself… because physically i haven’t lifted a finger! Drained and powerless, it was in this moment that i had finally realized… i was dead. You would think common sense would have kicked in and i would have asked myself, what did you expect? I had been on this selfish suicide mission for 10 years now, pumping my body full of these powerful poisons… i deserved this, the cowards way out. Forever engraved on my tombstone “The sick and twisted junkie” thats all i’ll be remembered for now, and i only have myself to blame. This was nothing like the stories i heard growing up. There was no bright light to guide me, no pearly gates where my loved ones stand to welcome me with open arms, Jesus didn’t take my hand, only to tell me its not my time… along with a persuasive speech on purpose, and why i need to go back in promises of returning to my safe haven, my personal paradise for eternity once my time on earth was officially up. No, none of that… just this empty, dark abyss, the in between maybe? I stand so restless in a place where time does not exist, everything i have ever known is no longer relevant. Has it already been days, weeks? The thought process on this alone was driving me insane, i’m completely mad. My mind is going a million miles a minute and just as i try to break a single thought down into making sense, to puzzle some sort of plan together out of its foggy bits and pieces, another begins. My thoughts come to a screeching halt when i suddenly feel a vibrating warmth in the middle of my chest, it was unlike anything i have ever felt before, everything about it felt safe, and comforting…. it slowly and gently consumed every fiber of my being, i trusted this. Slowly i felt my functions flicking on like a light switch, i can hear you!… this was not english, this was no language known to man, but i have never understood something so quickly and clearly, a mesmerizing sound, that was brilliant and bright, leaving a hushed hum in your ears, making sure the words spoken stay embedded forever, this voice would never go unheard once needed or asked for, you just have to be willing to receive it. There was no mistaking who had just put my mind, body, and soul at complete ease. I’m glowing… radiating life again. When just as quickly as i ended up in the darkness, sudden shock therapy to my vessel, and blood flow to my heart, once again jolted me up right in that drivers seat. Every nerve ending on fire, my bones ached and every hair now stood straight up sending a chill down my spine as my soul grasped on tight, re attaching itself to my temple I forever took for granted. The gas station lights began to buzz and grow brighter as my blurry vision fought for focus, i settled them right back on the radio waiting for reality to set in and the consequences that may await me. The time now read 2:00 am and i had gone completely unnoticed for all that time…. This cant be, there is literally no possible way, none of this made sense to me because the impossible now became very much possible. An overwhelming wave of emotion washed over me, something i had not had to deal with for years, it twisted my stomach and the guilt lodged in my throat leaving me breathless, and i began to break down, sobbing, shocked, and trembling in total disbelief at everything that occurred and the awful realization that i’m still the same sick person. God saved my life, someone i no longer allowed in my life, someone i turned my back on while leaping in the arms of satan himself and laid suffocating in his tight embrace, yet i was extremely content with that. I no longer believed in anything i once cared so strongly about. Yet you found me, stiff, cold, and lifeless and kissed me when i needed you most and with that you returned my life to me but you would not do it again under such circumstances… Your exact words “i brought you back and i wont do it again” Knowing that my next fatal injection would leave me stuck forever in something much worse than my first encounter… a forever endless loop in heroin hell. As i began wiping away my tears attempting to gather myself my phone lit up. It was my mom who was in Nashville at the time on business, and i couldn’t believe she was awake. i scrambled and struggled to get a grip on the phone, once i did a swipe opened a text simply read “just read a story about a girl back home that O.D and her baby starved to death” The heart stopping, gut wrenching feeling left me momentarily paralyzed and everything suddenly made sense. The crying didn’t let up after this, and i took a minute before driving away from the place i will forever remember as my almost permanent death bed. The whole way back i picked my self apart starting with day one. I have to escape this sickness, i have to get out of here.

-Aly

#writing #words #spiritual #my words #spilled thoughts #spilled words #truth #recovery #mine

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sergeant--wench-blog · 7 years

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Living with 'High functioning' anxiety and Borderline personality disorder.

According to most people, the way you wake up greatly impacts your mood for the day, If you wake up in a good mood, you may stay in that good mood, If you wake up in a bad mood, It can take a while to get yourself out of it but it can happen etc. What I’m trying to say is that it can be pretty easy to regulate moods, when you have a normally functioning brain that is (Obviously subtracting environmental influences etc.) With anxiety and BPD, your mood can rapidly change several times before you’ve even had chance to swing your feet round from the bed to the floor. A day in the life of a sufferer- You ready?

After an extremely broken sleep,which is a nightly thing…you come to expect it these days… You wake up…ish. Let’s try that again…You TRY to wake up, you try to force yourself out of the bed but sometimes, it feels as though someone has taken up residence on your chest. Some days…you just kind of sit there…waiting to see what sort of mood is going to greet you…what emotion will it be today? Sometimes you can be sitting there for a good half hour before anything makes an appearance. Will it be anxiety? or a branch from the ever-present BPD tree? It’s like Russian Roulette, except all of the chambers are full and instead of wondering whether or not you’ll be spared, you’re just wondering what kind of bullet it’s going to be this time. One day you’ll be met with this overwhelming desire to cry- Try to imagine being stranded in the ocean, you’re struggling to stay afloat and keep slipping under, it’s consuming, it’s exhausting, it’s unbearable. Every time you seem to have a grasp on things and you feel able to function like a normal member of society, another wave crashes into the back of your head, rendering you incapacitated once again and then it’s back to bed because you physically cannot muster the energy to participate in every day life.

You do not want to shower. You do not want to sleep. You do not want to eat. You do not want to move. You do not want to speak to anyone and you do not want company but at the same time, you’re indescribably lonely. You want to be held but the thought of someone touching you makes you feel sick. You want someone, anyone to come and take care of you but you wouldn’t dream of asking anyone because then you look weak. You want to open the flood gates and tell your loved ones what you’re going through but this thought is met with crippling anxiety that persuades you not to. So you just sit there, being emotionally beaten by your own mind.

If you do manage to conjure up some courage to ask for help -You open yourself up to the pressure of other people in your life, they’ll call you lazy and incompetent- “When are you going to sort yourself out?” -”What is wrong with you? Why don’t you have a job? You don’t look sick?” -“ You can’t keep using your ‘illness’ as an excuse?” at which point, you feel like screaming, you wish they would understand but more often than not, they don’t, they can’t…not unless they have experienced it firsthand. They don’t see the hardships you face every day, they don’t see you constantly battling with your own brain- “I feel good today, I feel like I can achieve anything, I can do this! …Why though? what have you possibly got going well for you? everyone hates you, you have no friends because you’re a bad person. You never never stick to plans, you ignore messages and phone calls, you don’t even feed your cat half the time because your brain gets so clouded that you forget that he relies on you for basic survival. Why did you even bother getting out of bed? Your bed is safe, nothing can harm you while you’re in bed, no one can bother you while you’re in bed, isn’t that what you wanted? to be alone? no? why would you want to share your life with another person? they’d only leave you anyway, you’re too much to handle, they’d see how crazy you are and abandon you like everyone else has. Even if you did find someone who would put up with you, you’d only grow tired of them and push them away, you’d make yourself believe that they aren’t good for you when in actual fact, you just crave the pain of heartbreak. Why would you want to go outside? there are people out there. I’m so sad, I need help, NO! You can’t get help! they’d lock you up. Just self harm, that usually takes the edge off, let it bleed a little, you need the release. What about all of those medical problems you think you have? You were awake for most of last night convincing yourself that you have cancer, what if you do? let’s think about that some more. A heart attack could be right around the corner, don’t put more stress on yourself, you’ll only make it worse, just go back to bed. My heart is racing, I’m sweating, I’m shaking and I can’t focus, What is this pain? why do I have pains in my left arm? Why do I have pains in my chest? What is this?! HEART ATTACK! Something is crushing me! I’m suffocating! I can’t breathe! No…Don’t be silly, You’re too young to be having a heart attack, The Doctors said so last time, they checked your heart, remember? YOUR HEART IS FINE. Yeah…That’s what they want you to think, they just said that to get you out of the hospital because you were taking up a bed that someone else needs . Stop panicking! You’re fine! But what if you’re not? Let’s just lie on the floor and wait for it to pass.”- ”…I did feel good today…I tried.”

There are days where you’ll feel absolutely nothing at all. numb. It’s kind of like zombie-mode or autopilot. you feel no emotion and your brain doesn’t seem to want to work. Your limbs can sometimes feel like they aren’t your own, they don’t feel a a part of you (See? even they want to escape from you) Someone will try and make conversation with you and all you can do is stare at them because you can’t actually think of any words…It’s like they have been erased from your memory and you have reverted back to the toddler stage, you stutter and urge yourself “ JUST SPEAK! YOU KNOW HOW TO DO THIS” …Nothing. This feeling can last all day and the only way to feel something, anything is to self harm…So that’s what you do because it takes you out of the numbness phase and brings you back to reality and that isn’t much better, The reality is that you’re sitting in the middle of your bathroom floor, covered in blood and snot and making that ugly face you make when you cry.

Some days you’ll experience inextinguishable rage, you’ll feel it bubbling away at the surface, you feel hot, you feel ready to explode. You cant focus on anything and, similar to numbness, your mind goes blank and all you can see is red. You’ll shout at everyone, Your friends and family…even your cat gets it in the neck. You know you don’t mean it and you continue to fight the urge to headbutt a few walls…It’s better that than physically hurt someone, right?

Worrying will be a huge part of your daily life. What if I miss my bus? What if I don’t have the correct change as soon as the driver asks for it? what if I drop the money on the floor? How embarrassing! What if the bus crashes? Who will feed my cat?! What if my house is on fire when I get home? What if someone breaks in? What if I see someone I know and they try to make plans with me? What do I say? What if I just collapsed and died in the middle of the street? Would the cars stop or just drive over my lifeless body? Would anyone even miss me? Every single action you take or think about taking will result in you worrying about it or trying to convince yourself to just give up on today and try again tomorrow.

Going to your GP doesn’t work, They just put you on any old medication and send you on your way. You have to fight for anyone to actually listen to you because of the stigma attached to mental illness. YOU have to do this, no one will do it for you but be warned, It is a long and painful process. Therapy can work but you’re going to have to waste so much time on finding the right type of therapy that works for you and even when you do find it, you then have to find the right therapist, One with whom you feel comfortable and because of the high demand, you’ll probably be waiting close to a year. People online can help, Join some groups, start talking to people who are going through similar experiences and don’t give up. Suicide is never, ever the answer. You wouldn’t be getting rid of the pain, You’d just be passing it on to someone who loves you.

Happiness isn’t a regular occurrence but it does greet you, warmly, every now and then. You find yourself appreciating the very simple things in life…Like the rain, how it awakens every nerve in your body as it trickles down your skin…or the first sip of a good cup of tea in the morning…or the laughter of a carefree child. It’s these little things that can keep you going sometimes.

~Wench

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meoous · 6 years

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friday february 09, 2018

actually i think just putting all of my thoughts down like this help, i dont know if it helps a lot but it does help

i feel a bit more calm afterwards, usually enough to get me to relax enough so i can sleep or do some work.

i dont know though, this morning i woke up and my head was pounding and my chest felt really tight. it felt like i was suffocating like there was a heavy weight on my chest and i couldnt get it off. i still feel a bit like that now. my head doesnt hurt anymore but i physically feel like i cant do anything, just having to get up made me feel so exhausted. i cant even think about how i to do things later, its so much, everything just seems like so much. so much to do, so much to handle, so much to balance, and i just cant balance any of it. i dont know how, im trying though, i am trying my best to handle everything and balance it all, but i cant find the right balance.

i just feel so exhausted of it all. im so tired. im so fucking tired, its all just so much and i just want to disappear for a while and not do anything, shut myself off from everyone, give me some time to myself so i can get myself together again, i just dont know how. i feel like no matter what i always have to be around people, like i always have to do something, and i do. i do have so much to do, but i cant bring myself to do it. im just so exhausted, everything is so tiring. just thinking is tiring, having to get out of bed is tiring, everything is just so exhausting, i dont want to deal with it anymore.

its all just too much for it. i having to handle all this feel like trying to hold water in your hands, but no matter what you do, the water is still going to fall through your hands so whats the point. whats the point in trying to hold water in your hands if its all going to fall through anyways. its all going to fall onto the ground and then suddenly its too much water and im drowning. there just more and more water and i cant hold it in my hands, and now the water is just overwhelming me, i feel like i cant breathe. its just so much

everything is just too much and im so tired of everything

i just want to get away from everything

i keep thinking that i want to get away and the only way i think i can do that is really by death, but i dont want to die, i really dont want to, but sometimes it sounds like the only way i can get this to stop.

#done

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foursprout-blog · 6 years

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21 Ways To Explain Anxiety To Someone Who Has Never Had Anxiety

New Post has been published on http://foursprout.com/happiness/21-ways-to-explain-anxiety-to-someone-who-has-never-had-anxiety/

21 Ways To Explain Anxiety To Someone Who Has Never Had Anxiety

God & Man

I started a Facebook group for women who are struggling with anxiety and one thing that’s hard for everyone is getting your partner/loved ones to understand what you are experiencing. Everyone with anxiety has had at least one disappointing conversation in which it’s clear the other person thinks you can “just stop worrying about it”. I asked the group to share how they’d explain having anxiety to someone who finds the concept alien. Enjoy and feel free to join the group!

1. “It is like you’re breathing through a coffee stirrer straw. Never really being able to get a full breath, feeling like you’re not getting enough air, a constant state of panic.”

2. “Anxiety is feeling nervous before an interview or a party days in advance — but it’s also feeling nervous when you have nothing to be nervous about. When you’re sitting in your house and everything is technically fine, when there is technically nothing to worry about, but you still feel uneasy and can’t figure out why.”

3. “It’s like constantly being pushed underwater by wave after wave. Coming up for air only gives you relief for a minute, but just as you find relief, you’re pushed under again. Sometimes the waves are small and you can swim past it, but some waves are so big and powerful, you can’t do anything but wait it out, and have patience that it will pass.”

4. “Feeling on edge, with a constant fight/flight response when the anxiety is present. Overthinking situations in some instances, and needed reassurance that your thoughts are valid, even if they may not be rational – which we get, but our mind is trying to convince us otherwise.”

5. “It’s like having a weight on your chest and every time you exhale it gets heavier and harder to take in air. At the same time the room you are in is shrinking around you. You call for help because the room is crowded and surely someone can come take the weight off you so you don’t suffocate but nobody hears you so you’re completely alone.”

6. “A constant battle between me, myself and I. There’s situations I’m in where the logical side of me, the non-anxiety self wouldn’t think twice or be upset but my anxiety monster inside wins and I’m in a constant state of panic or self-doubt. Meanwhile deep down inside I’m trying to tell myself it’s nothing or screaming and clawing from the inside with no where to go because I’m just being crippled by this disease…. and at the end I’m exhausted, usually with a headache or migraine, over nothing.”

7. “It’s an insecurity thing I can’t seem to overcome. Because I know what the rational thought process is I know sometimes I sound nuts. But anxiety is a way to protect myself. Although sometimes it feels like it backfires. There are times when I’m completely 100% correct about a situation. And most the time I don’t want to be. I want to be wrong. I want to know I’ve overthought this and I’ve overanalyzed things but people with anxiety I think are very accurate about reading situations and understanding things and predicting a situation. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned about anxiety it’s the right relationships in your life won’t fill you with it. When you are confident in someone, that insecurity of saying the wrong thing or losing them isn’t a factor.”

8. “Everything is Worst Case Scenario even if your rational brain knows everything will be fine.”

9. “Anxiety for me is when I’m crying and can’t breathe and catch my breath my mind is constantly on repeat and can’t think straight I start making up things about my relationships and now I’ve started to losing sleep.”

10. “Anxiety is an uninvited houseguest in my head that is invisible to people without anxiety — they don’t understand it, and because they think my life looks great from the outside, it sometimes makes me feel like I am crazy for feeling the way I do. Anxiety is a very isolating thing without the proper support. It is a constant state of worrying worst case, “what if?” scenarios. How it manifests for me physically includes heart palpitations, upset stomach, headaches, insomnia. It’s the waking up at 3am every night with racing thoughts about situations that may never even come true that are the worst for me.”

11. “Anxiety feels like 100 different people giving you 100 different opinions about your life that you didn’t ask for.”

12. “Anxiety is every problem in life coming to the forefront at once, causing heaviness on the soul. Its the past present and future of problems, rising out of you and shedding light of its existence in any form whether it be sleepless nights, not being to focus on your loves and passions, and causing dissolving self worth over prolonged periods of time.”

13. “Panic.”

14. “Knowing you’re thoughts are irrational and that inside you’re going crazy and not being able to stop.”

15. “It feels as though I have no control over my anxiety. Somedays I wake up and feel absolutely great and can take on anything the day throws at me, and then within the next 5 minutes, my chest will begin to feel heavy, my breathing will be short as if I just ran 10km full speed, I’ll break out in a sweat, my hands will shake and because of this overwhelming/uncontrollable feeling, I begin to cry and feel so exhausted from this episode that I’m ready to turn right around and crawl back in bed scared that this will happen again. My body can go through this everyday multiple times or not at all. Sometimes I know why, and sometimes I don’t and the worst of it, is that it will show up at any given time throughout my day without any notice making it difficult to plan my day ahead of time or to even think about leaving my house at all.”

16. “I often describe it to my friends as paralyzing. I can’t force myself to do something, even though I should. I can’t breath fine, even though nothing is wrong. I can’t get out of bed, even though it’s 2pm. I can’t help but worry, even though it may be something I cant control. I can’t lift the weight off my chest, even though there’s no weight there. It’s paralyzing.”

17. “In my own way, in my own thoughts, afraid of judgement, feeling worthless, perseverating on old wounds, existential crises and constant low self esteem leading to poor choices, more self criticism and more internal angst….all of this leading to constant worry and negative ideas and jitters.”

18. “Feeing nauseous and sick. My body is tired and all I want to do is sleep or cry or both. I never know why either. And sometimes even after I cry, I still feel sick and tired.”

19. “When I am anxious I am completely fixated on the one thing. I can’t think rationally or logically, I only feel overwhelmed with emotion. It feels like everything is wrong and that it will always be that way. I can’t see past the cause of my anxiety or see that it will be fine. Anxiety makes it feel like the world is ending when it isn’t.”

20. “When I’m anxious I can’t think of anything else but that one thing everything is on auto pilot. Taking a bath eating texting or even reading a book feels like a chore. Simply getting out of bed when you want nothing more than to stay in it is a challenge.”

21. “I read before the best way to explain anxiety to someone is imagine you have porn up on your browser and someone comes up behind you, and you cannot hit that “x” button fast enough.”

#Happiness

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