#depressive episode but i don't really feel how i do then... i think i'm just tired like i always am and that's just how i am now .. i think | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

keets-writing-corner · 3 months

Text

Thinking a LOT about Lucifer in the latest Hazbin episode. Idk what I was expecting but not this??

As I was watching my immediate thought was just "huh... Lucifer is kinda of weird..." but as the episode went on I realized the issue

the dude is off the chain depressed, like he says it as a joke but holy cow it is SO BAD

He's manically just creating rubber ducks cuz his daughter really like it that one time but it's empty, it's never good enough but he keeps doing it, maybe cuz he doesn't know how to pass the time otherwise.

like I get the feeling he HAS better things he SHOULD be doing than making rubber duck after rubber duck. At first I was like, "Bruh why isn't the king of hell doing anything?" aaaaand then it became clear...

The dude is disassociating so bad he can barely hold a conversation let alone remember information. He clearly WANTS to, he wants to be involved with his daughter so bad, he wants to care about the things she's doing so bad, but his depression keeps interfering. It's like he can only hear every other word and he grasps onto the ones he does hear semi-out of context. Like you can see every time he catches something that he hadn't before and he just "well shit I didn't catch that part"

and that's why he reacts so weird when people talk to him. He is struggling so bad to engage with the conversation he's only getting 50% of it

does that look like the face of a man who knows what the hell the conversation is even about??? he is STRUGGLING

like Charlie spent so long telling him about the hotel, and he STILL didn't understand what she wanted. Yeah it comes off as ditzy but literally I've been in that position where your brain just "nope, not doing this right now" and nerfs your conversation comprehension. So as someone who's BEEN in that position, to me it feels exactly like what he's dealing with. He's sorta engaged with the conversation, but only as much as his brain will allow

For example, when I'm dealing with this, this is what someone talking to me feels like this where the crossed out parts are what I missed and bold is what I catch, "Hey! You know I was thinking for dinner we could either make some chicken with rice? But if you don't feel like cooking, pasta is super easy and you love that right? What do you want to do?" you can kinda get that someone is trying to talk to you about dinner, and towards the end you get the impression that they asked something that needs your input so you can decently put 2 and 2 together and try and pass off, but crucial bits were left out, I would have no idea that either chicken or pasta is in the conversation only having heard "rice". When someone is just talking at me, I can decently pass off as being engaged but the second I'm required to participate in the conversation I'm screwed. Seem familiar? At which point I have 2 options, try to give a bullshit answer, or admit that I missed what they were saying and ask them to repeat

Lucifer, unfortunately, is trying so damn hard to hide that he's dealing with like 24/7 dissociation, so he can't admit that he's missing entire chunks of the conversation, hence his really weird replies. He does eventually get the full picture and then he and Charlie start having the real conversation

Also, the Alastor/Lucifer rivalry was hilarious but also really indicative of more of what Lucifer is dealing with

Alastor is, unfortunately, really good at picking up people's insecurities, and thanks to Charlie's description earlier and watching Lucifer clearly trying to overcompensate, he immediately picks up on the fact that Lucifer KNOWS he struggles to be a good dad (we know cuz it's cuz of the depression, hard to be engaged when your brain keeps turning off) and decides to rub salt in the wound by pretending he's been acting as a surrogate father to Charlie. Now why Alastor decided to pick a fight with the king of hell is beyond me, I do not understand Alastor (and I LIKE IT) (maybe it's cuz Alastor thinks he's hot shit and was expecting Lucifer to at least have heard of him but Lucifer just treats him like a nobody? who knows)(why would Lucifer listen to radio anyways when he can't even pay attention to a conversation it'd just be white noise)

But yeah I just was expecting someone who oozed either charisma or presence and instead I got a depressed dad who's dissociating so bad he can barely function and be present in his life. The only thing it seems he CAN do is make rubber ducks cuz his daughter really liked it that one time

Idk Lucifer is tragic to me. Whatever the full details of what heavan did to him absolutely broke him and he can't deal with it. He's aware of it, and he doesn't know how to fix it, so he tries to over compensate and sorta makes an ass out of himself but no one says or does anything cuz this guy is supposed to be THE king of hell

Suddenly it's making a lot more sense why he just rolls over and lets heaven do what it wants and even told Charlie to go in his place the start of the show. He's not in any headspace to hold a basic conversation let alone negotiate! He didn't even know who Alastor was, he's been so out of touch

idk I like him, he seems sweet, I hope Charlie brings some light back into his life. He really needs to get out of that rubber duck room

14K notes · View notes

osshisan · 10 months

Text

i used up all the energy i had for being upset about all the wrong i have to deal with in life while i was in middle & high school and now im just numb to all of it instead. don't really like it but what can you do

#i used to be able to get angry and sad and cry and yell about stuff #like being stuck in a flat rural conservative wasteland where i could only connect with a small handful of people #ive been angry about my circumstances since i got the awareness for them around 12-13 years old #then in high school when everything really started going to shit i had what i still think was a depressive episode and. well #i think i drained myself so bad im just stuck on empty now #things only continue to get worse and worse and im just passively hopeless about it all atp but i cant get myself to feel emotions abt it #every new law every new scotus ruling every new precedent that takes away another chance at a truly happy future #all i can ever do anymore is sigh and watch them pile up #not even gonna bring family stuff going on into this either thats another can of worms im not sharing on tumblr dot com at ass o'clock #but hey at least im not suicidal or anything #just feels like i'm waiting for a one-way train out of all this but i've no clue when it's coming #.txt #vent #kind of not really i don't feel anything typing this #just thinking out loud #yknow when you're in a silent room and all you hear is the soft airy drone of the a/c? and maybe even a ticking clock #that's how it feels. that's how Life is now

0 notes

subhumanself · 2 years

Text

bwuh

#johnny.txt #i really don't feel good at all #like i keep having ok moments and then soon after getting hit w like #these huge waves of Bad #i think i'm in a rlly bad depressive episode & i keep spiraling #and i really don't know what to do #like part of me is like 'hang out w ur friends! do smth fun!'#but then i get to go do those things and i freeze up and just #give up on it and i go sit for however long and do nothing #and i feel so bad abt it bc my friends don't deserve that #i don't know what to do or how to fix this #i should probably call my doc

0 notes

desertcrater · 5 months

Text

wilson is diabolical in s3 ep2, especially because a few episodes prior its established that he eats neediness. if someone becomes independent from him, he can't stand it. typically this means he divorces them; but since house isn't his husband, this time it means he instigates house's psychosomatic depression.

both cuddy and cameron are on Team Tell House He Didn't Fuck Up, because they know house is on a quiet downward spiral. they know his leg pain's severity is tied to his self-worth/mental state.

but wilson? Mr I-Pathologically-Need-To-Be-Needed Wilson? he frames his Don't Tell House position as "teaching House humility" when really his motive is to get house back on vicodin and reliant on him. he even tosses a full vicodin pill bottle at house, claiming that it's so house doesn't skip rehab due to the pain. but if that were the case, why not give house something non-addictive? something OTC or non-restricted?

and i think there is an additional aspect in s3 ep1, too. house says he doesn't remember wilson "being this bitchy", and wilson replies that "the vicodin dulled it. in the sober light of day, i'm a buzzkill."

which could just be a dry humor remark, sure, but i think it highlights that their dynamic's going to change now that house is sober. and if their dynamic changes, it could threaten their weird codependent ecosystem that they live in. one where they both tolerate/exacerbate each other's worst qualities (house's misery and wilson's bitchiness). who will love me like he loves me? who will love him like i love him?

this is exemplified in that same episode. wilson shoots house down multiple times when house says he's a changed man, by replying: "no, house, you aren't."

wilson does this manipulative thing where on one hand, he's encouraging house to get better; yet on the other hand, he undermines any true progress. there is something so deeply wrong with wilson. he's so fearful of losing the codependency in his relationship with house, that he'll do anything to keep their fragile Boy Best Friend Status Quo. and that includes outright lying to house & actively sabotaging his rehab.

that also includes manipulating cuddy and cameron into keeping quiet. ironically, he's only able to do so because of his Boy Best Friend relationship to house. after all, who knows house better than wilson? who would know how to make house feel better more than wilson? who would know how to make house feel worse more than wilson? nobody loves house like wilson

#this got sooooo long but my god wilson is A Liar Sometimes (most times)#house md #hilson #james wilson #gregory house #also i'm writing this 30 mins into s3 ep2 so if the ending of the episode changes anything alsxndjdnd sorry

648 notes · View notes

lucifers-rubber-duck · 1 month

Text

𖤓 Being married to Lucifer would include 𖤓

Pairing: Lucifer X Reader

Warnings: Mentions of depression and slightly suggestive content. Reader doesn't have a defined gender.

Waking up with morning kisses ❣

• He likes to hug you before you two sleep, is almost funny seeing him trying to be the big spoon when he's so tiny.

• It's no surprise he's a very clingy man, and that would just double when you two got married.

• Kisses aren't limited to morning tho, he'll get any excuse to give you even a peck. Lunch kiss, Goodnight kiss, Afternoon kiss, anything you can think of will be a good time to plant a smooch on your lips.

Eating the best of what Hell has to ofer ❣

• I believe with my whole being that Lucifer is a fenomenal cooker.

• He can bake anything you ask for, doesn't matter what, he will do whatever he can to make it the best meal you ever had.

• You can expect to have breakfast on bed at least once in a week, he'll sit besides you in bed and wait until you finish eating, wings around you and smiling like a idiot because he just adores seeing how happy his cooking makes you feel.

• He will ask you to cook with him too, he especially enjoys baking apple pies and pancakes and will often make cookies shaped like ducks. He sits and waits in front of the oven until it's ready and really enjoys when you also make him company.

Deal with his rubber ducks everywhere ❣

• Lucifer isn't the most organized person, yes, he enjoys doing the cleaning most of the time, but he finds it a hard time making sure all his ducks are in place.

• Sometimes you'll be going normally with your day, walking by the house and suddenly you will step on one of his rubber ducks, making it squeak.

• You tried putting them on a shelf once, making sure they were out of the floor, but in less than a week that shelf would be full because he would just keep making even more ducks and having nowhere to place them.

• His solution to it is to just shove them into his office, making piles and more piles of yellow rubber creatures, they will stay there until you two can think of a better solution.

• He gifted a bunch of those to you as well, you have your own place to put your collection, it's full of duckies themed of things you like, one of them looks like Lucifer, the other looks like you and a smaller one that looks like Charlie, the three of them have a special place and are always together in your collection.

Help him to clean himself ❣

• Sometimes his depression can get the best of him, when it happens he doesn't have the energy to even get out of bed, you'll have to help with all his chores and simple things.

• Help him get up, help him shower, brush his theet, fix his hair, help him get dressed and make sure he eats, sometimes even hygine is hard for him to do alone and the help you give him means the world.

• Also, make sure to tell him that you don't mind helping him, even with menial tasks like those, he's very insecure when these episodes happen and is scared that you might leave him because of them, he doesn't want to be a burden, so tell him how much you appreciate being his partner.

“I'm sorry for making you do this...” he silently says, head resting on your lap as you bursh your hand through his blond hair, it was one of those days and you two were sitting togheter on his office couch, he didn't have the will to do anything today and you had to help him even clean himself up, he felt like shit. “I'm such a piece of trash.”

You shake your head, grabbing his chin and making him look at you, he looks so tired and defeated, and at the same time looks at you like you're the only thing making him less miserable.

“Don't say that Luci, you know I love you a lot don't you? I don't mind helping you when you're feeling down” you move him around, enough to be able to give him a hug, pulling him closer to you so he could be comforted, you hated seeing him like that, you wish he could see how amazing he truly is, see himself the way you see him. “And hey, you were able to brush your theet by yourself today, I'm so proud of you for that.”

He's at verge of tears when he hears you say that, he pulls you closer using his wings, putting his head on your chest. “Thank you so much dear.” He's glad he has someone like you in his life.

Having to deal with bite marks ❣

• Lucifer is... How to put it. Rather possessive.

• But not in a creepy or unhealthy way! No no no, he simply adores you so much he can't help but mark you as his sometimes.

• His sharp theet can make a real number on you, he tries his best to be as gentle as possible, asking your permission before ever biting you anywhere, but he always aims for visible spots.

• Sometimes it makes you so embarrassed that you ask yourself why did you let him bite you in the first place, like when Charlie asked about it once and you had to make the worst excuse ever just to not tell her that her father was the one who did it.

• When you told him about it he just laughed, that made you a little annoyed but he promissed he would be more careful later. (This time he gave you a mark on your thigh before putting his tongue into work)

Hearing about his wishes to form a family ❣

• Man daydreams about forming a family with you, he can't help but just think about how precious it would be for you two, Charlie and a new child to take a new family picture.

• He doesn't force that idea onto you, he drops here and there how much he would love a new child, but if somehow you showed that you were uncomfortable with it he would stop, you and Charlie are enough for him and he won't try to change it for a fantasy.

• But if you want to adopt, probably a Hellhound or even a Imp since there's no human children in Hell, he will absolutely be supportive and be there with you through the adoption progress. He'll make sure to treat the child as his own and give them as much love as they deserve.

• If the adopted child is a girl then? He'll just be the happiest man alive, he's going to spoil her, never want to let her go and will dress her up in every opportunity. He'll for sure cry before you all take a family photo and say how much he loves you and his daughters.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin x you #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin x y/n #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #hazbin hotel imagine

387 notes · View notes

fdragon-art · 2 years

Text

Day 189 - Passing Time

A switch is flicked.

The room is bright and colourful, drawing attention. The eyes gaze upon the spectacle, struggling to look away. "Oh, this...this brings me joy. I'm gonna enjoy this~" A seat is occupied, and hours fly by.

The switch is flicked again.

Empty. Drab. Dank. The eyes struggle to find something worthwhile. "No, I don't wanna do this...but what do I wanna do...?" Time flies by as indecision meets dissatisfaction.

Flick.

Slick and streamlined, the room is engineering genius. Wherever you go, the edges and corners complement completely. "Oh I'm gonna get so much done in here." A useful room, with plenty to do inside.

Flick.

Mouldy couches and rotten carpet lines the floor. The odour is overpowering, except to the now-seated. "..." There is nothing to be said, or felt...

Flick.

...when is it your turn to flick to switch?

#miscellaneous #year 3 #writing #I...don't know how to write about hyperfixations or similar feelings well.. but I wanted to give it a try #The idea of it is meant to be like your headspace being forcibly set to a particular decor.. your attention forced to match #There's a switch that changes the room but it doesn't get flicked by you #So you're forced to deal with whatever the room presents itself as.. either waiting or dreading the next flick #...it also works as a Bipolar/mood swings metaphor.. now that I think about it #Constantly switching between positive outlooks that are enjoyed and negative ones that are gloomy and depressing #I wouldn't say I'm feeling these per se.. but it reminded me of the fact that some things absolutely draw my attention until consumed #Like I'm currently rewatching The Owl House and I'm trying to absorb as many episodes as I can because it's just /satisfying/ me right now~#And there are times where not much really appeals too. Plenty of things I /could/ do but nothing that latches onto my attention #...I'd say that's enough tags XD

0 notes

captainmera · 4 months

Note

My God I love your depiction of the Wittebane brother ❤️

Do you think there might have been a chance that your Pip wouldn't kill his brother when Calec goes to Demon Realm? He seems way more tolerable of weirdness and is actually curious about the taboo things. That it makes me wonder if other steps were taken by people around him, maybe he would make different choices and not turned into a brother-killing genocide goop man. Obviously, the blame is still his for what he did, but I can't stop wondering what if.

And him getting along with Evelyn instead of hating her right of the bat is really cute.

Thank you! :D <333

He grew up with this theatrical bisexual of a brother. Pretty sure the reason Belos didn't give a hoot on the Boiling Isles about queer stuff is because he kinda knew, and accepted, that Caleb was kinda queer. In some cases, people can ignore or bend certain rules for people they love. Even disregard them or pretend they don't apply or exist.

(long rant about writing and narrative foils and blah blah under the cut)

Unlike Caleb, I think Philip is the sort that only picks-and-chooses whatever rules he feels will supports his personal wants/thoughts and tosses the rest.

Caleb was not hiding it as well as he thought he did. lol.

I think that, sure, there was probably a turning point for Philip.

And absolutely, people around him influenced him. He's just a kid, a vulnerable one at that, in a protestant Christian cult.

I kinda like to think of it as a corruption arc. Mostly because it seems (to me) that the whole reason Luz was meant to have a depression-arc and Philip getting all "YoUrE JuSt LiKe Me!" thing was because.. There was supposed, I think, to be similar beginnings for them.

But Luz, in season 3, got depressed and felt a lot of guilt, so her arc is going from this happy-go-lucky kid interested in different things, to a depression arc where she questions herself. While Philip has a corruption arc, where he gradually goes from a well-meaning kid interested in different things, to evil and delusional.

I am also combining Luz, King, and the Collector into Kid-Philip's themes.

King is fascinating as a pre-narrative foil for kid-Philip. I think. As King was very clingy to Luz and didn't want her to leave, he too had a delusion about his own importance (disregard that it was kinda true in the end there). King tried to dictate (in that book episode) about what his and Luz' book should be about, how it should go, and it really hurt Luz' feelings. In the end, they solved it. But as a narrative foil, I think for the Wittebanes, they probably had a similar struggle on a larger scale, and it didn't get resolved.

The Collector, too! They're desperate to be close with someone, anyone, who gets them and wants to play on their terms. Kinda like Belos wanting him and Caleb to be witch hunters. Not accounting that Caleb is his own person outside of him-- Which, if you think about it, Caleb made his whole life (in my version anyway) about taking care of Philip. So I'm sure Philip felt like he really was Caleb's entire world. And then suddenly he wasn't. Because of a witch. The Collector, despite having this incredible power (just like Pip having his brilliant brain) is still a child and using their power in selfish ways. Not intentionally, I think, just out of a fear of abandonment or isolation.

I personally am in favour of nobody-is-born-evil-but-anyone-can-become-evil kinda thing.

I would like to explore how Philip gets corrupted.

I am slowly influencing Philip in my fanfic with little things that will, eventually, boil down to not so great moments.

The thing about delusions is that the person truly believes in it. Philip believing he's a hero has to make sense and feel believable.

Belos is a jerk. Philip isn't, yet. He becomes that jerk. But I don't want to write a sociopath. I also don't like using less-favourable mental illnesses as an "easy way out" to write why Philip became Belos and a genocidal maniac.

I have strong feelings about de-stigmatizing mental illnesses in writing, without romanticizing them or leaving out the really awful and less discussed sides of it. This includes diagnoses within all the clusters of the DSM5. I will not sit here and say I only support a diagnosis like Autism or GAD, and not things like Histrionic or Borderline.

And including people with MH issues and personality disorders is important, too, as well as not trying to downplay them.

People throw around Belos with things like Narcissism and Psychopath, without actually understanding what those means or what the different types there are. For example, is he a grandiose, oblivious or a fragile narcissist?

Yes, these disorders are looked down upon. A lot of people who have them aren't very nice people. But that doesn't mean they're evil or have no heart.

Lots of children can display early signs of these, and in a rough time like the colonial 1630s of America, it is not unthinkable that those rough times bred some dysfunctional people. I'm sure Philip has his own slices of pie as far as mental health goes, just like Caleb and many other struggling people.

But, I will not write from an angle that implies Philip just has darkness from the start in him.

There's a reason why I had Caleb go on a rant about being born evil in chapter 5. Because puritans, and Christians alike, at the time - truly did believe bastards were just... Half people. Did you know that if an orphanage found out a baby was a bastard, they wouldn't let it suckle the nursery goat's udders. Because they were afraid it would soil the milk and, in turn, might give the non-bastard babies bad influence. Somehow.

With that kind of logic in your culture, it's no rocket science that people would put nonsense together and think it made sense.

I'm much more interested in how puritanism and witch hunting culture influenced and corrupted Philip into becoming who he became, and why he refuses to budge on his beliefs to the point of murder.

As the owl house, the show, has commentary on systems influencing cultures in a bad and positive way. But in particular, the one Belos tries to influence the Demon Realm with; being a not-so-great way. So! With that as a clue: what made Philip turn bad, most likely, was partially the puritanism and its extremist ways. I think TOH is also a bit of a nudge at the HAYS-code of Hollywood and how it has trickled into most all the American culture-core. As it's both trickled into schools, morality, politics and other things outside cinema.

Just pointing at him and going "He's a sociopath because he became a genocidal tyrant" is, to me, cheap. Not only does it further stigmatising mental illnesses by implying only a disorder can make someone do such evil things. But it also disregards the most horrific truth of all; that the true monsters are people not at all unlike yourself. And that they, too, were children once.

#ttocw #caleb wittebane #philip wittebane #toh #the wittebane brothers #the owl house #toh fanartthe owl house fanart #toh comic #wittebros #wittebane #toh caleb #toh philip

361 notes · View notes

zivazivc · 2 months

Note

Sorry if this has already been asked before but why did the band break up? And did they break up on decent terms? Do they still talk to each other sometime?

It has been asked before, I just never answered jshfbdjcbh I'm still piecing everything together and stuff is changing or getting tweaked all the time, so I'm always super hesitant about answering these types of questions, afraid that people will take whatever I say as the final answer. So basically what I'm going to answer now will already contradict what I told some people already. And maybe in the future the story might go a little differently too (although I'm pretty satisfied with the current events)

Uhhh, get ready for a long info dump. I didn't expect I'd write this much...

Floyd basically stayed with the band for 8 years (from 14 till 22) and got pretty messed up in the process. The rest of the guys are all quite older than him so I guess I could say they were more responsible, or at least had a better understanding of their own limits (also they grew up in this kind of environment or grew up aware of it, while Floyd was oblivious and naive about all of it) and while they do get drunk and do drugs often, none of them are really dependent on them. They are also pretty good judges of character and know how to avoid trouble. Floyd on the other hand drove in with no breaks and constantly got himself in trouble that the rest (mostly Les) had to drag him out of. He also developed bipolar during this time (in my story Floyd constantly fluctuates between being saturated and being desaturated because of this) and his manic and depressive episodes started getting out of hand after his teenage years. (None of them are aware it's a mental disorder that's making him act so out of character.)

Floyd was becoming miserable because of this and all of his problems pilling up, and started blaming Les for the way he was. Les never argued this which only fueled Floyd to blame him more. In the end he was getting so frustrated and irritable that Floyd constantly tried starting arguments with him, even putting him down and getting aggressive at times because Les gets very unresponsive and closed off during personal conversations (guy is a giant onion of suppressed trauma that Floyd is hellbent on peeling open).

Eventually there was one fight too many, terrible things were said, some objects flew through the air, and Floyd walked out (or Hed kicked him out, I haven't decided yet) with the promise of going home and never seeing them again.

So, yeah, it was very messy and Floyd was the primary asshole, even though he's not really to blame either...

But Floyd didn't make it home (was too scared to sneak through Bergen Town to get to the tree (i don't think i can judge him for that either)) and he just returned to the reckless lifestyle, this time without anyone being there to keep him safe. So if he was messed up before, this is the time period where he got absolutely fucked up. This is also when he got heavily addicted to sour worms. And when he chronically slept around (half the time just to get offered free worms or have somewhere to sleep, other times because he was having manic episodes and was feeling hypersexual). (This is also potentially the period when he had the two eggs with that techno troll, but I'm still thinking if I want that to be canon to the story or not.) During this time he also grew to become very anxious and his self-confidence went to shit when he was being himself.

Then after about three years of that, he bumped into Les at some party. He wanted to dodge him out of shame but Les grabbed his arm and manhandled him outside to talk. Floyd felt like shit about the way they had split up and tried apologizing for all the stuff he had said and done to Les, but Les wasn't having any of that because he wasn't angry at Floyd, he was just worried about him. Les is also insanely empathetic like Floyd, and he knew that Floyd never really meant any of it, and that he was just looking for an outlet when he was hurting. Also he does think he is to blame for the way Floyd ended up.

Les wanted to know why he didn't go home like he had said (because that was the only reason Les had even let him walk out in the first place). A few exchanged words later and Floyd broke down telling him all the awful things he'd done, and Les promised to help him, feeling insanely guilty. Floyd wondered if he was allowed back in the band but Les made it clear that the band wasn't good for him and that he was never taking him back. Instead Les helped him go though rehab. I don't think trolls have those institutions (or at least not many are aware of them or how they work (I'm sorry but I refuse to believe the Trolls world has internet and cellphones, Mountrageons can keep that for themselves lol)), so it was more or less just Les finding Floyd a job and his own place to stay in the middle of bumfuck nowhere where he had no option but to detox, and constantly checking up on him to make sure he was doing okay. During this time they grew pretty close again. Or maybe the better term would be that Les slowly started putting his walls down again.

Hed needed a while to warm up to Floyd again. He's almost as protective of Les as Les is of him, and he resented Floyd for the way he had treated him.

Flea is pretty phlegmatic when it comes to any sort of arguing or drama. He was casual about seeing Floyd again, they were never super close anyway.

And Liv, she left the band when she and Hed broke up (haven't decided if that happened before or after Floyd left), so Floyd didn't get to see her again after bumping into Les at the party. And I haven't thought yet if they'd ever meet again somewhere later in life. But if they did, I think they'd both be happy to see each other.

Anyway...

Floyd managed to detox and successfully kept the job for about a year, but then he became manic again and messed it all up. After that he returned to his nomadic lifestyle, but he never fell as hard as those three years again. In my story Floyd's life is a constant cycle of getting his life together and fucking it up and booking to the next place. And he and Les are trapped in a never-ending cat and mouse game where they're both trying to fix each other.

So, uh, Les and Floyd are still very close and see each other somewhat often...

(sometimes monthly, sometimes yearly)

Yeah...

I am so fucking obsessed with them I'm gonna hurl. Please take this song before I combust:

youtube

#btw the status of Floyd's and Les's relationship is forever set on 'complicated'#but they are as obsessed with each other as i am obsessed with them #the song is too soft and vulnerable to be something les would sing out loud but inside he does feel it #papa roach is nu metal btw. tho idk where this song stands exactly #trolls #dreamworks trolls #ex bandmates #trolls floyd #trolls oc #les #answered #my art #btw I am only self educated on the bipolar disorder from what i've read and watched on the internet so have that in mind #my intention is to be respectful but i might not understand all of it. especially not the personal experience of those who have it #i'm just some random nerd #so in a way you could say floyd was diagnosed by a nonprofessional lol #i stayed up until 3am last night writing this #today i made the sketch that is no longer a sketch #should i put this post under a cut? it is pretty long #long post

237 notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months

Note

Aita for having a foursome without my partner while in a committed relationship?

I, 18f, am in a relationship with my partner who I will call Mike, 21m. Our relationship started in January when we meet on a hookup sight, and we liked the hookup enough to keep seeing each other and then we developed feelings. I'm from a pretty rural place and therefore the pickings of good men are slim so it felt like I hit the jackpot when I met Mike cause he was funny and didn't pressure me sexually and could actually make me cum.

But as our relationship became more serious I noticed things that were bothering me like how he's hardly on his phone so he doesn't text me back for anywhere from 2 to over 24 hours at a time.

He also in the beginning wasn't very good at communicating which lead me to not knowing what he wants from our relationship. He also wouldn't tell me he couldn't make plans until right before, or even after, the plans were meant to start. This happened often because he doesn't tell his parents that he has other plans when they ask him to do something (he still lives with his parents) and it even happened a couple times with his friends.

This is a slightly big issue to me because I have trauma based abandonment issues and BPD, and I will get upset and have an episode. Obviously it's not his fault I have these episodes and he's not causing them on purpose, but having episodes that often was negatively effecting my mental health.

My best friend Ken and roommate, 18n, and our two other friends, Julian, 18n, and Mac, 20n, had to witness the toll these episodes had on my mental health as I grew more depressed and anxious during the 5 months I allowed this to happen. They continuously encouraged me to either speak to him about his behavior or break up and I ended up talking to him and his behavior seemed to get better. (For context I only can see him about once a week because he has a job with long hours and works on his dad's farm on top of that)

Around this time my friends starting having threesomes together (Mac and Julian are ex fuck buddies and Mac and Ken are engaged) and they kept making jokes about how it should be a foursome/I should join then.

I brought these jokes up to Mike one of the times he was going to hang out with my friends incase made the joke in front of him as i didn't want him to go in unprepared. He said I should just "have sex with them to get the joke to stop" and I was like "??? We agreed to be exclusive, that would be cheating. Also if I wanted them to stop I could just ask" and he was like "yeah I guess but I still think you should just have sex with them. Just do it" I changed the subject cause I couldn't tell if he was joking and it made me uncomfortable.

I told my friends later when we were alone and they told me that was him giving me the go to have sex with them.

So I did, even though I held some reservations that he might have been jokinh. I had a foursome with them, and as I am the photographer of the group, took lots of photos and pictures and even sent the photos and pictures to the groupchat we share so the others could have them.

Then after it ended I started to second guess myself and deleted all the photos from my phone and texted Mike that I really needed to talk to him, like sooner then we usually would (since I had just seen him typically I wouldn't see him until next week). I felt gross like I had cheated, which is something I have always vehemently been against, and betrayed Mike's trust as we're in a committed relationship. I admitted these feelings to my friends and they said it wasn't cheating cause he told me too and even if he hadn't he was still horrible to me and he deserved it.

Only the last part made me feel even worse cause I don't believe anyone deserves to be cheated on.

I ended up telling Mike everything and he told me that it wasnt cheating because I "was basically just a promoted camera man" and that he had told me to do it anyway. But them he started making jokes about it. Like if I asked if he wanted to watch a show, he'd say "I don't watch TV shows with dirty cheaters" or things like "oh yeah, Mac, your other boyfriend" or "yeah i know how close you and Ken are" and just generally seems to get quieter when i bring up those three friends. I would originally think the comments were teasing as he's a playful guy but he started to say it enough that I can't tell if there's actually truth to it and a part of him thinks I'm a cheater, or all of him thinks I'm a cheater and he's lying that he's fine about it to not hurt my feelings/ruin our relationship.

Every time I voice my feelings to my friends (even the ones I didn't have sex with) they tell me that I'm not in the wrong but I feel like I definitely am in the wrong and a cheater, and I think that Mike might feel that way too. So I've come to Tumblr to look for unbiased options on whether or not I am and asshole and a cheater for having a foursome while in a committed relationship?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

376 notes · View notes

ostensiblynone · 4 months

Text

Ryan: Breakups are very tough. Your life goes on, though. I was very sad after a breakup, but my life went on. Shane: It did. Steven: It did, and— Ryan: But it does feel like the end of the world. That's actually one thing Shane told me, when I was going through my breakup, that I haven't really forgot. It did—it did help quite a bit. He had mentioned that when people go through breakups, in that time, it does feel like it is at the center of the universe and in re- reality, it doesn't really matter that much in the grand scheme of things. Shane: I mean, it's one of those things where you can't—yeah—you go through those phases where you simply can't imagine ever [wheezes] not feeling horrible. Steven: Loving again. Ryan: Yeah. Shane: And then eventually, uh. Ryan: It was very helpful, 'cause I was pretty down during that time. But I, uh. We've never actually mentioned this in any media that we've done— Steven: What? Ryan: —but Shane has a very—it's funny to me now—and, look, it's—and we both find it funny—don't get angry at Shane—I think it's very funny. There's a photo of me [laughs]. There's a photo of me in Savannah, Georgia. We were filming an Unsolved episode. At the time I was very depressed and I was going through this breakup. You could actually see it in those Unsolved episodes. I had lost—I want to say 20 pounds. Shane: Yeah. Ryan: Like, 'cause I was just—I was unable to eat. I was just not—I had no appetite. And there's a photo that Shane took of me standing on the street with T.J. Marchbank. Shane: And to be clear, when I took the photo, I was just like, 'hey guys!' [mimes holding up a cameraphone] It was just— Ryan: 'Hey, look over here!' kind of thing. Shane: Yeah. And then I looked at the photo and I was like, 'oh boy.' [Ryan and Steven laugh] Ryan: And you could see in my face I'm just not having a good time. Steven: [to Shane] Do you have the photo? Shane: Yeah! Ryan: And look I get that this is, like, you know, a weird thing to think is very funny. [points to self] I think it's funny but—uh. Shane: Well, in retrospect we can laugh. Ryan: Yeah, in retrospect we can laugh. Shane: Especially because, you know, it was a great time for T.J. 'cause he had just started wearing hair gel. Ryan: That's correct. Steven: [laughs] Ryan: T.J. had never understood how to do his hair or use gel and so I guess we taught him how to do his hair. Shane: So he's looking—he's like, looking like Mister Cool over there and you're looking like Mister Real— Ryan: I—I look like a husk of a human. Shane: Well, you're going through the—you're going through the motions of—you're smiling. Ryan: Yeah. I remember just before this picture I had run, like, five miles. Shane: So, to the naked eye, it's like: there's two guys. Let me zoom in on Ryan. Ryan: [laughs] Steven: [laughs] oh! Ryan: Just the saddest man on Earth. [all laugh] Ryan: It was not a good time. Shane: That was rough. Ryan: But, a very funny memory.

Pod Watcher 007: Movies, Water, Magic posted Nov 27, 2023

#pod watcher #watcher #watcher entertainment #ryan bergara #shane madej #steven lim #bfu #buzzfeed unsolved #TJ marchbank

363 notes · View notes

zmbiesuga · 7 months

Note

I literally jumped with joy when you fallowed me back omg ily sm. So I was at the doctors and my doctor told me how he proposed to his wife and it was so sweet. He said he was stressed from finals and he had like a dream that his wife died and he dreamed of everything he couldn’t do with her. So when he woke up it was like 2 in the morning and he ran to his room to get the ring he had. He had it for two whole like years but ran to her dorm and begged her to say yes because he couldn’t wait. Could you write a fic of kuroo doing that with his boyfriend?

JUMP THEN FALL — k. tetsuro x m!reader

sypnosis: kuroo has always known that he wanted to marry you, and he's always said that he'll do it when he knows it's right. what's more perfect than asking after he had a dream about you dying?

warnings: mentions of death (nothing too graphic but still), kuroo being a fucking loser dork but i adore him so it's fine <3, fluff, happy ending!, angst if you squint really really hard, kuroo and reader are in their last year of college in this one, but i'm not in college yet so idfk how it works but i'll pretend i do!! use of the petnames 'babe' and 'baby'

notes: okay i'm so so sorry this took so long, i had a really bad depressive episode, i hope you like it, this request is really cute and i had a lot of fun writing it :D and two, that is so nice of you to say omg :( of course i followed you back, you always send me requests, you interact with my stuff a lot and you're just really nice so thank you for that <3

Kuroo has always wanted to marry you, it's the one thing he's been sure of in his entire life.

When you bring up marriage to him, however, he just tells you to "be patient" and that he'll "do it when he knows it's right" which constantly keeps you on your toes in case your dork of a boyfriend decides that the "right time" is during one of your lectures or at any inappropriate time really.

It kept Kuroo on his toes too, because what you don't know is that in the far-right corner of his sock drawer holds a small velvet box with a beautiful band inside of it. Every day he can feel his hand graze over the box, thinking to himself, maybe now is the right time.

But then he shakes his head, and decides it isn't.

And besides, as much as Kuroo loves you, he has finals to worry about. And they're really kicking his ass.

Although most people would peg Kuroo as the focused studious type (which he tried so desperately to be), the truth was that he tried so hard to procrastinate as much as possible. However, was it really procrastination if he needs the sleep?

When it was to avoid studying for finals, yes it was.

"Kuroo, sleeping to avoid studying for finals is not something you should do," your voice rippled out through the speaker of his phone, "especially if it's every single time you have them."

"Babe, you are the one who is constantly nagging me to sleep more," he rebutted, that stupid cocky tone he always had lingering in the back of his throat ever present, "I'm finally listening to you, I think you should take that as a win."

"Kuroo," your voice cracked again through that shoddy android speaker again, a certain firmness to it this time, "please promise me that you'll study, you're gonna hate yourself if you don't."

"Baby, I promise you I will, you know my word to you is good," he replied, you could hear that fucking cocky grin etching itself onto his face, "right after my little nap. I love you; I'll talk to you soon."

After you too bid your goodbyes, Kuroo made himself as comfortable on that dorm room mattress as he could, until his eyes got heavy, and he drifted off to sleep.

Kuroo could have sworn it was real.

The chase, your blood curdling scream, the way his stomach dropped to the soles of his feet when he realized he was too late.

It wasn't until he shot up in bed with that same nauseous feeling sitting in his chest as his breath came out panicked and labored had he realized it was nothing but a fucked-up dream.

Kuroo had never been so happy to wake up.

Slowly, but surely, he had calmed himself down. His breath returning to normal as the nauseous feeling in his chest disappeared, what didn't disappear, however, was that he didn't want to live life without you. He didn't want to graduate without you beside him, he didn't want to start a company without you there cheering him on along the way, and he sure as hell didn't want to imagine having a family with anyone else that wasn't you. Life was too short for hesitation, it was too short for his hesitation.

He quickly rushed out of bed, pulling an old hoodie over his torso, slipping on his shoes, and rifling through his drawer to grab that velvet box that had been sitting there for two years, begging to be let free.

Luckily for him, your dorm wasn't far from his. He hadn't even bothered to check the time on his phone, where the light flashed a large: 2:03 A.M. at him, he didn't care if his frantic speed walking down the hallway woke up everyone on that floor, he was only worried about getting to you.

When he got to your dorm, he rapped his fist against the door so hard he could've sworn that his knuckles would crack open. The door opened to a very annoyed you, but he didn't care if he interrupted your sleep, or your studying, he was just so elated to see you in front of him.

"Kuroo, what the hell?" you seethed, "It's two in the morning, what on earth —"

You were quickly cut off by Kuroo dropping to one knee in the doorway of your dorm room, pulling out that velvet box in all its glory, revealing that beautiful band you had mentioned liking to him once, you couldn't control the way your mouth slightly dropped in confusion, a wave of emotions hitting you like a tsunami.

"(Y/n), please, just listen to me," he blurted out in an almost pleading tone, "I've always wanted to wait until the right moment to ask you this, but recently, I've realized that the right moment was in front of me the entire time."

You tried to get a word in, but Kuroo's word vomit was faster.

"(Y/n), I've realized there is so much I want to do with you, so much that I can't do without you," he said, you swore you could see the tears well in the corner of his eyes, "everything from this point forward is useless if I can't do it with you by my side, so I'm begging you, even though it's two a.m. and we're both in our pajamas with messy hair and dark circles under our eyes, will you make me the happiest man alive, and marry me?"

It was your turn to be stunned, you stared down at your boyf — fiancée, in front of you with stained sweatpants and an old Nekoma sweatshirt barely big enough to cover his torso asking you to marry him at two in the morning.

You stayed quiet for so long, it scared Kuroo. Maybe this wasn't the right time, you two were still in college, this was all so sudden, so impulsive, he should have waited, he should have —

All these thoughts were expelled from his head as he felt your body weight push against his, squeezing him so tight in an embrace that he could barely breath.

"Yes," you whispered against the side of his neck, he could feel the tears from your eyes splashing there as well, "oh my god Kuroo, yes, a million times over."

He smiled softly at you, resting his own head against your shoulder as you held him in your arms. If this is what the rest of his life looked like, then god was he excited for it.

#love letters from leo #my dearest haikyuu #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x male reader #kuroo x m!reader #hq x reader #hq x male reader #hq x m!reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu x m!reader #kuroo fluff #hq fluff #haikyuu fluff #kuroo my love.#light of my life my sweet pie

312 notes · View notes

ecoamerica · 23 days

Text

youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

6K notes · View notes

indiefilmfatale · 2 years

Text

go ahead, touch yourself (steve harrington x afab gn reader)

gif by disdaidal ^ plot: you and steve are new roommates and are still establishing boundaries content warnings: graphic language, masturbation, fingering, oral (reader receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, steve loves getting his hair pulled word count: 2.8k a/n: based off of some djo lyrics that make me absolutely feral... as well as this gif..... i'm losing my sanity over this fcking man takes place between s3 and s4! taglist: @cuddlingwithharry (send me an ask be to added to a taglist!)

You were standing in front of your full length mirror. Your eyes scanned up and down yourself in contemplation, brow slightly scrunched.

You hear a pair of footsteps pass your room. "Steve can you come here for a sec?" You call, and the footsteps stop. You watch your doorknob twist and the door open at a medium pace; by the time Steve's whole figure appears on the other side he's putting a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. He was in a crewneck and cotton basketball shorts

"We're out of Cheerios if that's what you're about to ask." He says with his mouth full.

You chuckle, brow furrowing. "What? No."

"Oh, okay, what's up?" He walks in immediately and sits on your bed, taking another bite with a small slurp.

You turn to face him, holding your arms out out awkwardly next to you. "What do you think of this outfit?" You asked with genuine concern.

"Um," Steve's head tilts, properly scanning you. "Turn for me."

You can't help but feel a little embarrassed as you turn around until you face him again. He nods slowly, chewing, looking like he's really thinking about it. Until his face relaxes, "Yeah I don't know why I told you to turn I have no idea if that's a good outfit or not."

"UGH, Steve!" You groan. "I really need your help! I'm fucking nervous!"

His head cocks back in confusion, "Why?"

You sigh, "I'm going on a date, okay? And it's my first one since Jessie fucking," You swallow. "Broke my heart, so," You turn back to your reflection and look yourself in the eye. "I don't know, maybe I shouldn't go."

"Y/N, it's been two months since that asshole kicked you out of his apartment. You should go." You heard Steve from behind you. He takes another bite. "Seriously."

You contemplate his words. You had spent those two months in and out of a depressive episode. Luckily you had found a cheap enough place to move to after a week staying in Nancy's basement, but you could only stretch it with a roommate. Steve, who had still been living in under the roof of his asshole dad, gladly agreed. But moving just gave you a bigger space to wallow in. You hadn't even started unpacking anything besides your pajamas and your work clothes until about an hour ago.

"So my outfit is okay, then?" You ask him, meeting his eyes through the reflection of the mirror.

Steve offers a sheepish smile, "Again, no idea." He sighs. You can't help but chuckle this time. "But you look great."

You and Steve stare at each other through the mirror, both of you seemingly holding something back. You clear your throat and turn around, facing him again. "Okay, get out now, I have to jerk off."

Steve's whole body jolts at your words. "What?"

"That's what you do before a date, so the sexual tension doesn't overwhelm the evening." You tap your head with your finger. "So you can think."

Steve chortles; he thinks you're joking. He seems to be frozen sitting on your bed, holding his mostly-empty cereal bowl on his thigh, staring at you as you stare back at him expectingly. "Oh my god, you're serious?" He laughs in astonishment. "You jerk off?"

You crossed your arms, "Is that so hard to believe?"

"Uh, I mean," His eyes wander the ceiling. "I guess not. I just, I don't know, can't really picture you doing it."

You pursed your lips, "Then don't, weirdo."

Steve laughs again, but this time much more forced. The energy has suddenly shifted in the room but neither of you can describe how. Steve's still just sitting there.

"He's gonna be here in like 30 minutes, Steve–"

"Fine, fine," He throws his arms up in surrender, holding the bowl at the right angle so it doesn't spill. He stands and makes his way to your bedroom door, using his free hand to shut it.

You catch a glimpse of his face just as the door closes over it, and hear him mumble something that sounded like "Have fun." in a monotonous tone.

Steve sat on his bed, empty cereal bowl on his nightstand, staring at the wall. He didn't really know what to do with himself.

He could go into the living room and watch TV, but that would mean passing your bedroom door. And he really didn't want you to hear him walk past your door, knowing that he knew what you were doing, and think he was some kind of pervert.

Still, his mind kept wandering back to your room, your eyes, your fingers. His brow furrows as he swallows. He couldn't tell if he was thankful or spiteful the walls to the apartment were so thick.

But then he starts thinking about what you would sound like, and oh god, he's hard now. Why had he never thought about you like this before? Steve can't think of a good enough answer.

He waits for you to leave for your date to get in the shower and jerk off. But when he does, you're the only thing on his mind. Your fingers pulsing in and out of your entrance, becoming damper from your own arousal. He imagine it's your hand wrapped around his cock, stroking him, as you touched yourself. Then he thought about you feeling yourself get wetter because you were stroking him, and he's done for.

He cums from that thought alone. The shower water hitting his chest, his jaw hanging open, low moans echoing throughout the bathroom. One hand presses firmly onto the tile wall beside him for support, the other finishes himself off into the shower drain.

He washes himself down and gets out of the shower. Throwing a towel around his waste, he combs his hair back in the mirror. When he opens the door, he nearly falls backward at the sight of you standing in the hallway.

"Y/N, what the fu-" He catches himself and stands up straight, hand gripping his towel to keep it wrapped around him. "How– What– Um," He stutters, then clears his throat. "What are you doing here?"

"I bailed on the date." You say, your eyes struggling not to wander downward from Steve's face. You point at the bathroom, "Were you...?" You trail.

Steve decides to play it cool. "Was I what?"

You meet his eye, and you sense a twinge of panic that makes you hold yourself back from embarrassing him. You already knew the answer. "Nothing," You drop your hands to your side. "I'm gonna go to bed."

Steve opens his mouth to say something, but holds himself back as he watches you turn around toward your bedroom. He sighs, "Goodnight."

You glance at him from over your shoulder for only a second, "Goodnight, Steve."

About two hours had passed and neither you or Steve had gotten an ounce of sleep. Steve had spent it swimming in embarrassment, trying to think of the perfect thing to say to you when he sees you the next morning– trying to erase the thought that you heard him jerking off in the shower.

Meanwhile, you replayed the moment in your mind over and over. Your core twinging at the very memory if his muffled moans from the bathroom.

You didn't want to bail on your date, and you wouldn't have if you hadn't idiotically told Steve you were going to masturbate before you did. You and Steve never talked about stuff like that, which was probably why he was so surprised when you had mentioned it.

And when you lied down to do it, hand slipping into the jeans you had just asked his opinion for, you tried to excite yourself about your date. Peter was really cute, and you two had a tangible amount of chemistry. But for some reason, your mind kept going back to how sweaty Steve had gotten just a moment ago.

You weren't blind. You knew you were attracted to Steve. But he was Steve– He was basically a brown Labrador in a polo shirt. And he was one of your best friends.

But these salient points tend to cloud in the heat of passion. Steve was what got you to the finish line– you couldn't help but imagine if his fingers were down your underwear, fingering you senselessly as you writhed under his touch. You came quicker than you usually do.

That made it pretty hard to focus on anyone else. You realized this as you waited outside for Peter, but couldn't bring yourself to think of anyone beside Steve. Why had you never thought about him like this before?

You checked your watch, 7:48. You could probably still catch Peter at his house. You rushed to the payphone outside your apartment building, made up some excuse about feeling under the weather, and went upstairs.

Steve doesn't hear you walk into the apartment, even though the door is cracked open a smidge. You only start to hear the shower running when you get to the hallway. And then a low echo of a grunt.

You freeze in your place, stomach dropping to the floor.

The grunts turn into breathy moans, and you can't move. Your mouth agape, you feel your breath become shallow. Arousal is pooling at your entrance now as you hear Steve reach his climax.

You press your back against the hallway wall and catch your breath. And then you realize what you were doing and let out a silent chuckle. You should go back to your room, pretend you never heard a damn thing. But part of you wants to face this head on. You haven't felt this brave in months.

And then the door opens, and you see his face flush with embarrassment, and you chicken out.

But your mind is still there, in the hallway, even though you are now lying in your dark room in silence. You should go talk to him, you thought to yourself. That's what adults do about these things, they talk them through.

Steve hears your door open and soft footsteps stop outside his bedroom. He can see the shadow of your legs from the crack above the floor. He stands up.

"Steve?" You say softly, a gentle knock on the white wood of his door.

Steve opens the door, and you meet eyes. You open your mouth to speak, but the words get caught on your throat. Part of you is trying to find something, anything, to say. Another part of you is losing yourself in Steve's eyes. His hair is a little disheveled and he doesn't have a shirt on, just a pair of sweatpants.

There was nothing you wanted to say, you realize. You just wanted him.

So instead of talking, you leap forward, grab his face by both cheeks and bring it to yours. His arm wraps around your back, taken aback by the kiss for only a second before leaning into it. You push Steve backward and shut his door behind you.

The kiss grows more passionate by the second, sloppy and open mouthed. When Steve's tongue slides against yours, you moaned. A whiny, soft sound that sent a rush of blood straight to Steve's groin. You wrap your arms around Steve's neck, pulling him even closer.

God, he was a good fucking kisser. He put all of his focus into it, devouring you, moving his mouth against yours in a way that left you breathless. You could feel his hard-on against your stomach.

"I want you, Steve," You whined against his lips. "I want you inside me."

Steve, speechless and panting, nodded. He kissed you again, this time guiding you toward his bed until the mattress hits the back of your knees. He tugged at the hem of your shirt and you lifted your arms to pull it over your head. He palms one of your boobs as he kisses down your neck.

You take the opportunity to reach down and palm him through his sweatpants. You can tell he's not wearing underwear. He groans against your collarbone, his hot breath hitting your skin and giving you goosebumps.

He unbuttons your jeans and pushes them down your thighs. You pull away from him and sit on his bed, lifting your legs so he can tug them off. He tosses them to the floor, then wraps his fingers under the hem of your underwear and pulls those down your legs too. You watch him stare at your cunt with a hunger you've never seen in your best friend before.

"C'mere," You nudge your head in his direction. His gaze meets your's again and he kneels on his bed. You spread your legs so he could sit between them. He leans forward, using his arms to hold himself over you, and kisses you again. Still just as hungry and desperate, if not more so.

You feel a hand snake down to your core, as Steve begins to spread your arousal up and down your folds. You shudder at the touch, moaning against his lips. He pulls back from the kiss, "Is this okay?"

His fingers brush your clit and your breath hitches. "Mmhm," Is all you can manage to get out.

Then he pulls his hand away. Your eyes open to see what he's doing– He grabs your own hand resting on his bicep and guides it downward. "Touch yourself," Steve kisses your shoulder. "I wanna see what you like." He kisses your collarbone.

Your fingers rub your swollen clit, quickly getting lost in the sensation. Eyes fluttering shut in pleasure. Steve kisses your stomach, your hip, the inside of your thigh.

When you open your eyes he's resting on his stomach between your thighs, face hovering over your cunt. You continue making wide, sloppy circles around your bead.

Then you feel a finger pump into you and you gasp, "F-Fuck, Steve."

Steve kisses your hand as you work over yourself. He adds another finger and you're in heaven, head falling backward as his fingers filled you. Then you feel his tongue snake between your fingers, right on your bundle of nerves.

His tongue replacing your fingers, you bring your hand to his hair. And when his tongue touches your sweetest point, you pull hard on his thick brown locks, earning a moan from him against your skin.

Steve takes note of the spot and begins to suck, his lips wrapping around your clit in the most perfect way. You pull even harder on his hair and he sucks even tighter. His fingers curve upward slightly and your eyes squeeze shut as you cum, drawn-out and ragged moans spilling from your lips.

Your pussy is convulsing around his fingers, and he maintains his pace until you come down from your high. When he brings his face back to you, his lips are swollen and his cheeks flushed. You kiss him, tasting your own arousal.

Without breaking the series of kisses, you pull his sweatpants down. His cock springs upward as the waistband frees it, and you begin to pump him half-heartedly, distracted by his tongue dipping into your mouth.

Steve pulls away and guides his hips to meet your entrance. When he pushes into you, it's slow and dragged out, bottoming you out and filling you to the brim. Steve moans as he pulls back, and the sound sends you into a spiral again. You can feel yourself wanting him more and more by the second.

You clench around him as he pumps into you again, and Steve's head tilts downward to watch himself sink into your pussy. "You feel so fucking good, Y/N." He says as he looks back up at you.

You grab his face and pull him into another kiss. His lips trail to your cheeks to your neck, as he starts to go at faster pace. You dig your hands into his hair and grip harder with each thrust. Steve moans against your neck, hot breath hitting your skin.

You reach down to rub your clit the same way you did before, and you feel Steve's back hunch so he can watch your fingers. "Love seeing you–" He grunts, hips moving faster. "Fucking touch yourself, shi-it."

You feel another high coming just as his thrusts become sloppier. Your back arches under him as your second climax washes over you, your moans getting more and more desperate.

Steve tenses as he cums inside of you. You hold onto him as he twitches and shudders, his thrusts gradually coming to a hault.

He rolls off of you and collapses next to you in the bed. The two of you take a moment to catch your breath. You look at him, and can't help but find him beautiful like this. Caked in a layer of sweat, hair spiking in different directions, mouth agape as he breathed.

Then he catches you staring, and without missing a beat, says, "We should've done that years ago."

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things smut #stranger things one shot #x reader

4K notes · View notes

olderthannetfic · 4 months

Note

I'm beginning to realize that my closest fandom friend is... not a good friend, for me.

When they're doing well, they're awesome -the best beta reader, hype man, partner-in-shipping-crime you could wish for. The first year we knew each other, we'd talk every day, some days for hours on end, often getting really personal. I never before had anyone in my life who encouraged my creativity like that; they supported me in learning to draw, wrote pages and pages of concrit on my fics, seemed to genuinely enjoy my work... it was kinda heady. Addictive.

When they're not doing well however, they... disappear. And they have a habit of ghosting people, deleting their account, and creating a wholly new identity in a fresh fandom when they're "good" again. They didn't do it last time they went through a depressive episode... but they did do a big disappearing act for a bit, and the realization of how little our connection meant to them and how easily they could cut me out really... damaged something.

I've tried to let it go. But... their new "happy stuff only" boundaries (never share anything too personal or real -something they insisted on post-latest depressive episode), their habit of disappearing for days (even weeks) on end with no word (leaving me worried AF for their health), the fact that I clearly care more about them than they care about me... it's like salt in a wound.

And yet, I feel like I can't cut them out -their "good self" is the best friend I've ever had in my life. I just... feel incredibly disposable, and like receiving that amazing friendship and support depends on me having no needs, no sorrows, and existing at their convenience only.

I don't really know what to do.

Sorry for the giant text block T_T (Thank you for having open asks)

Drop them.

I think you're wrong about them not caring as much as you do. The pattern they're displaying is someone whose life is spiraling out of control, not someone who just doesn't care.

However, people who have a ghosting problem do not get better.

Not without multiple years of offline stuff changing and probably some hard work on their part that has nothing to do with you and that you cannot affect in any way.

You will not go back to the honeymoon period even if they decide you can talk about non-happy things again, and more to the point, they're going to ghost you again and again and again.

The way to make that stop is to stop being in contact with them.

258 notes · View notes

angelpassing-by · 3 months

Text

SOMETHING BAD GOING ON LATELY

Characters: Zhongli, Diluc. Genre: angst, comfort. Your boyfriend realises over time you're in a bad mental space and comforts you after you open up. Modern AU. Tw: self harm, not graphic mention of injuries and self harm scars, depression episodes. A/N: English is not my first language. A bit rambly and incoherent, I'm afraid-

ZHONGLI ִ ֗- - - - - - - - ꔫ - - - - - - - - ִ ۫

You hadn't really been feeling yourself lately. Things happened around you as if they were filtered by a distorted glass. Words had a static sound behind them, and even silence felt somehow too heavy.

You laid still most of the time, waiting for the time to pass by, one, two, five hours and counting. Without the soft humming of your partner the air on the appartment felt constricting. The couch wasn't even that comfortable, but you didn't have the energy to get up.

it took some time for the ex-archon to pick up on your behaviour, all in all, as an inmortal being, he was used to stillness. Plus, it definetly didn't help that you weren't normally very energetic either.

"Honey, are you feeling fine?"

That had been a particularly difficult day as you were forced out of your home by your friends. They laughed and joked and you felt so, so out of place through the entire time. You couldn't help but feel inadequate. You weren't as funny as them, or as pretty, or smart or kind. You just couldn't figure out how to reach to them, and in your poor state of mind, everything you could think about was how little you gave to them.

"Yes, just kind of tired, don't worry." You lied, slowly getting up and heading to the kitchen for a glass of water.

"Are you sure, you have been a bit down lately." He trailed behind you but his words seemed to vanish on thin air, or maybe be swallowed by too-thick air.

You couldn't be bothered to respond, why would you? Things changed around you, you could do nothing. Words were spoken, but life just continued after all, long and miserable. And you, you were just watching from the sidelines.

"Do you want to go somewhere? Or maybe just order takeout and watch something." Your boyfriend was getting anxious, he knew nothing about human beings.

Maybe you were sick.

"I'm fine. I'll go to bed early though so don't bother." You talked drily, where were the endearing nicknames or the shy smiles? Zhongli couldn't help but wonder.

You went to bed early without saying goodnight and were still fast asleep when he got up for work. Well, actually, you had prentended to be sleeping, feeling the sweet goodnight kiss on your temple and the squeeze on your hand when he left.

You felt like a terrible partner, avoiding your significant other. In truth, you were scared, what if he dind't seem real? What if he suddenly had the realisation that you were nothing but a bystander in everyone's life?

That night, the scene repeated, but instead of confronting you, Zhongli simply asked in a gentle manner "Can I hug you, my dear?"

That caught you by surprise and you absentmidedly nodded, still convinced that he wouldn't dare to touch you. But he did, wrapping you in big, warm arms and securing you to his chest, the fabric of his expensive suit rubbing against your cheek.

In that precise moment, time froze, the glass cage that had been keeping you isolated for weeks shattering. The thrumming of his heart against your ear, clearer than any sound you'd heard as of lately. His hands on your back felt so real, so genuine. You dind't even noticed that you were talking, softly wispering as he rubbed your back in circular motions.

"You're real."

DILUC ִ ֗ - - - - - - - - ꔫ - - - - - - - - ִ ۫

That was one of the only times when you could actually feel like yourself. When the pressure on your chest was lifted and the stream of tears clouded that little skeptical voice inside your mind.

"Are you even real?"

"Do you exists if no one looks at you?"

"Everything would be fine if you were gone."

The steady pulse hammering your head as the heavy droplets of crimson slide across your marred skin somehow gave you peace. And you felt horrible for it. Horrible for relapsing and falling again for old vices. Horrible for lying to your boyfriend. Horrible because everything was fine, yet you still felt distant from it all.

The tender scars across your arms itched as you tugged on your long sleeves, always paranoid that they would to slip down, just enough to reveal a trail of swollen skin and distorted lines. The anxiety making you space out from whatever your boyfriend was talking at that moment. Truthfully, you had no energy left to hear some story about drunkards or the mysterious Dark Night.

" - and of course, Charles just had to do it, you know?" Diluc, immersed in his monologue as he was, had unconsciously approached you, a shoulder brushing against you own.

You made an uncomfortable noise when he pulled you closer but aside from a hurt look, he let it slide and proceed to ask about your day. Pretty uneventful, you still managed to pull a believable performance sprinkling some exaggerations and white lies into your tale.

From that day on the exchange repeated a handful of times and finally you felt something change in the air between you two. Diluc became careful when approaching you, choosing to keep his distance, and colder, quite literally. You had grown, over the time you both had been together, accustomed to the heat that he naturally radiated due to his vision but now, with your body hidden under layers and layers of protective fabric, the temperature was unbearable. That coldness had seeped into the atmosphere at your home. With Diluc unable to use his love language in fear that it would make you uncomfortable, the tension built up.

"Did I do anything?" That was the last thing you were expecting that day.

You had slipped into bed quickly after a small dinner and Diluc had promptly followed you to the master bedroom, sitting out of arm reach at the edge of the mattress.

"No!" You voice came louder than you had expected it. "No" You repeated yourself quietly.

"Then why this? Did someone do something to you?" He finally looked at you, deeply into your eyes with a scared expression.

"No, it's got nothing to do with you or anybody else. It's just... too hot."

He smiled awkwardly and tried to joke it off "Am I really that hot that you can't stand being around me?"

But you didn't laugh and his serious face and deep frown reappeared. "Maybe if you didn't wear so many layers -"

"No"

"Why?"

And then it happened, it never occurred to you he would ask why. Why? And then you told him. The words pouring out of your mouth without any cohesion or structure. You told him about that part of yourself, the one that didn’t let you live in peace. You told him about that not feeling real that you carried around, about the cuts and how you didn't know how to stop, how to make the urge go away. You rambled until your throat felt sore and your head began pulsating with the familiar thrumming of an imminent headache.

"I know you are not fine, " he paused and moved closer to you "and I doubt there's anything really I can do. But I want - no - I need to help you. I can't stand to see you in pain, I love you too much and you love yourself too little. So please, tell me, what can I do?" His face pleading for something, anything.

Deep red eyes searched for yours before you hesitantly asked, "Can I hold your hand?"

#genshin impact #tw depression #tw self harm #tw depressing stuff #genshin angst #genshin comfort #zhongli x reader #zhongli comfort #diluc x reader #diluc comfort #diluc angst #zhongli angst #depression comfort

150 notes · View notes

maximumkillshot · 3 months

Text

Home

Warnings: There are a lot with this one and it hits close to home. Mentions of S/A. The R word is used, sobbing, anxiety and mental episode. mentions of self harm, mentions victim blaming and slut shaming. MDNI. There is fluff spattered around.

Pairing: BangChanxReader

Characters: Bang Chan, Reader, mention of the person who S/A, people Slut Shaming and Victim Blaming.

A/N: Okay so this one is heavy. The things you are about to read have happened to me. I had a mental episode a while back. I wrote most of this during said episode. This is what I think Chan would do for his S/O if they went through and go through what I did. This blog has always been a safe space. I use my fictions to entertain as well as a platform to have safe conversations. If you need me as always I will hang around after drop.

I Can't Lose You Masterlist-CLICK HERE

Stray Kids Masterlist-CLICK HERE

ALL WORK IS UNDER ME AND MY BLOG. DO NOT TRY TO REPUBLISH OR STEAL MY WORK, AS THAT IS COPYRIGHTED UNDER ME AND IS CONSIDERED COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT WHICH IS A PUNISHABLE OFFENSE.

ANY WORK THAT YOU SEE ON OTHER SITES THAT ARE MY WORKS PLEASE NOTIFY ME IMMEDIATELY.

“YN?” Your husband called out to you. You couldn't hear him from the pressure of today. It created a seething pool of frustration and anger as you kneeled at the foot of the bed, wanting to pray, but now that you think about it the pain of being on the floor was a sweet torture in and of itself.

Usually, anger like this wouldn't be a problem for you. You would go down to the basement and punch granite with your poorly taped hands, yes you were only a kid then, not knowing how else to get the anger out only stopping when you'd hear a crunch. Yes, that was the start of negative coping mechanisms, and yes you are trying to either bury that anger or let it consume you fast before Chris gets home. He's dealt with enough, we don't need to add on to it.

Now you're no longer a child… as a matter of fact, you are now an adult, an adult with a hairpin trigger vaguely yet expertly disguised as comedic sarcasm. Depression that you don't remember not having… maybe when you were 8? You weren't sure. Not to mention a cast made of a myriad of physical and mental health issues…. Disabilities… and the cast of characters just keep growing! You have the medicine and the “coping techniques”, they called it, for success! Even those fail.

Trying to talk it out just made you more angry, the injustice looking more and more ludicrous by the second. Okay, let's try breathing. Yeah no. That didn't work either, it just gave your brain more oxygen, so your brain went from quantum computer speed to Sonic the fucking Hedgehog. Oh… ok oh oh! Let's try soundboarding. You know, talk to people, not yourself. That ended in yet another game of useless catch phrases like “calm down” and “you shouldn't be thinking of that.”

TELL ME SOMETHING I DON'T FUCKING KNOW THANK YOU! Oh, and I almost forgot the “Your method of thought isn't changing because you don't want to change '' DO YOU THINK I AM POKED ALL DAY AND SAY TO MYSELF…

‘OH I WANT TO FEEL MORE LIKE SHIT… I KNOW LET ME RUN MY FACE INTO A BRICK WALL OF ANXIETY REPEATEDLY UNTIL I CAN'T CONTROL MYSELF ANYMORE.’

You reverted to hurting the people around you due to your anger and frustration, plus you darkened the mood, you've always been a multitasker. My friends were right. I'm depressing, I was only kept around because of my ex. That was before they kicked me out… because they didn't want to believe he assaulted me. You go back to that night often…

“I didn’t want to do that, I felt icky” You told him after he came back from cleaning himself up in the bathroom, while you were left to clean the traces of himself from your own mouth. No aftercare, no thought about you. The ghost of a boy who used you, who was an on and off friend of almost 10 years…

“I know.” he answered with no emotion.

“Then… why?” You asked, your head cocked to the side.

“Because I really wanted it.” He puts his hand on your shoulder, “But I’m sorry you feel that way. Shit now I feel bad.”

Then it switched to those friends, on another night… “ I just don’t buy it. That DID NOT HAPPEN, I know him better than you.”

“I mean you did it anyway so you must’ve wanted it.”

You tried to explain that you were assaulted, it’s called coercive consent and it’s the most common form of assault. You were raped. You didn’t want to do it and he knew that but you wanted to make him happy. You tried to explain, to educate. They weren’t having it.This conversation at times whirls in your head. Making you itch to pull a trigger, do something to make the torture stop.

“You always overreact and you’re so annoying why don’t you just go the fuck away!”

“You’re so depressing just fucking go away! We only tolerated you because you are his girlfriend, just go the fuck away!” The intent in her voice. The reality. You trusted her most out of the entire group. She helped you emotionally… Now shaming you, blaming you.

Her boyfriend rendered you speachless when you called it what it was, it was rape via coercive consent:

“Oh I get the kind of person you are, you’re the type of person who gets felt up in the middle of the night by their significant other because they’re trying to get laid and you call it rape.”

You know the right method to take now, right… Yeah you do.

Isolate… process… torture yourself…cry… alone. Contain the monster, so it doesn't hurt anyone else… You're just a monster parading as a human. Don't forget it. This happens when you forget Y/N… stop being reckless. Always so fucking reckless…

You started clenching your hands one over the other, wanting to rake the top of your hands until they bled, trying to ground yourself. Until subconsciously, you did. You rocked as you did it, trying to soothe yourself.

Sometimes you swear people don't see you drowning right in front of their fucking eyes. You know how to swim, you know how to get out, to scream, punch, fight. You want to swim, you really do. But you can only do so much in a rip current. The lifeguard sees you. But instead of helping they yell “PADDLE! JUST PADDLE YOU'LL BE FINE!” It's a different level of patronization. It just makes you want to let the tides swallow you. Because why fight when the waters are so warm?

“Y/N?!” Chris yelled as he saw your bag tossed haphazardly on the couch, never where you put it. He stopped and listened carefully. He thought back to the last text you sent him. “Shit hit the fan at work …I don't want to feel right now. I'll see you at home.”

That middle sentence made his heart stop. He knows you… something was up. He tried texting you back, sending words of encouragement, calling, and leaving cute messages when you didn't pick up, and nothing was heard from you. As soon as he could get away from schedules he did. When he looked at the clock you had sent that message three hours beforehand, he never raced home faster.

He knows what your mind does to you. He sees the battles every day. When he’d compliment you and you would look down, not shy, but contradictory. When he’d pick you up you would freeze and he’d remind you that you aren’t too heavy, that he loves you in every single way that you think is impossible to love you. He’d always encourage you to wear what you want, do what you want. He would caress every single curve, never being able to keep his hands off of you. Whispering into your ear in public as he tilts your head up gently after asking for permission. He’d kiss you so delicately in front of a sea of people. On the red carpet, on stage, it didn’t matter. You were and are his person, and he loved showing you off. He couldn’t win the war in your mind for you, but he damn sure would fight those battles with you.

He would fight away those negative thoughts, he’d wrap his arms around you and sing to you to will those images, the anxiety and fear away. Until those thoughts were rendered useless. He’d wrestle with them for control, as soon as he won your mind back he gave it to you. He reminded you that you are here with him for a reason. He adores you, and nothing would change that.

It was something he promised you when he saw you breakdown while doing your medicines. You told him that you were ashamed of it all. All the illnesses, that you weren’t perfect and that you’d understand if he didn’t want you. He looked at you and helped with your medicines, learned about each of them, and their dosages. He was so gentle, smiling at you, wiping your tears. He looked at all the medicines and said, anything that keeps you alive is nothing to be ashamed of. You aren’t something to be ashamed of. He knows that sometimes you can’t hear him until he’s right in your ear. Now looked like that case.

You couldn't hear him calling out to you, your mind too loud, too vicious, bloodthirsty. When pain and self-deprecation are your main moods, all others seem like an abnormal concept. Something that is stolen, was it even real in the first place? You know one thing that was real… Chris. You hated being this… the medications, the constant fires in your mind, the barrage of hate aimed at yourself, of unbridled strength turned inward to rip yourself apart for no reason other than things piling up. He didn't deserve that. He deserves peace, the best… just like what he demands of himself, perfection.

You got through the gauntlet at your job. People undermining your authority, people on a power trip of their own. Sending others to try to intimidate, embarrass you into submission… as if you weren't a bloodthirsty wolf that could snap any second, biting their heads clean off. “An Alpha through and through,” that's what Chris would say, “Even Alphas have to bite their tongue, Love.”

That made you cry more because at this point you don't even know if your tongue is still existent, or if you swallowed the damn thing after you bit it off. Or worse… you still have it… but you lost your voice. You know that can't be it, we're too fucking stubborn for that.

But the hits didn't stop coming, traffic happened, then going to the doctor who said that the physical therapy you needed would eat into your personal time, your time to write, to cook for Channie and the boys, to spend time with Channie and the boys.. then you forgot the doctors note so you had to walk back in for it. Then you had to go home while you tried to talk about everything… and well now here we are.

Even now you try to problem solve, try to nitpick at yourself, the person he loves so much. You collapsed more on the floor of your shared bedroom, cross-legged thinking of the ocean, the violent, dangerous, tumultuous ocean… something simultaneously so beautiful and scary. You want to say you are like an ocean, but you don't see beauty in yourself, only a beast. That's all we'll ever be.

Chris freezes in the hallway hearing a sob break loose from you. He hadn't heard a sob like that before, it chilled his core. How does he approach this? He sees the doctor's note thrown next to your purse… He was happy you were approved for physical therapy, you really were in a lot of pain daily from the muscle and tendon weakness, but he looked at the times…

He looked to the hallway, “Oh…Baby Girl.” He had one piece of the puzzle. He knew you loved to cook for him and the boys but this schedule meant you couldn't do that for the foreseeable future. You enjoyed seeing the boys eating, and staying fueled, knowing without that they'd opt for less healthy options. Then he saw the paper right under it. A typed log… a leger of interactions throughout your day… “No…”

Right there, in black and white, was what you went through today, everything down to the sarcastic smirk your coworker had as you were barraged with pressure to break the rules… and you didn't break. He never would've expected you to. You are the strongest person he knows. Even under these conditions, Chris himself would break. In front of fifty plus people being berated, pushed to do something you knew you couldn’t do.

Right at the end of it was a line, written in plain ink by hand. “Vacation not given as described by supervisor. No week off.” With tear stains smudging the ink.

Chris started walking down the hall to the shared bedroom. As he walked closer he heard you mumbling as you sobbed. Things like “stop crying” and “it's nothing.” But one made him freeze right before he opened the door, “Chris is going to worry. You already take too much from him, get it together so he won't worry. It’ll hurt him. Stop hurting the people you love. You’re a monster.”

That made his eyes sting, you were worried about him above all else. He slowly opened the door and you couldn't find it in you to look up. You knew who it was. The aura you know and love, like salve on the holes you ripped into yourself. The small steps were only weighed down by his sneakers as he slowly spoke.

“Hey…Baby Girl?” The tone was even more soothing. We don't deserve that. “Can you look at me please?” You just shook your head. Too embarrassed at the shambling mess you are. The real you that you hide.

Before you knew it you saw two big hands undoing the laces on his sneakers, shortly after he toed them off. Slowly he sat in front of you groaning “Oooooookay criss-cross applesauce it is…” making you smirk as you wiped your nose with the inside of the collar of your shirt. Finally, as he settled he said “aaaaaughh” with a big puff of air…

You just tucked your head into your chest as you hid as much as you could. He waited for a few minutes, until he said, “We can address what happened in a few minutes. But you need to know. You don't take from me.”

Your tears kept falling as you listened, his tone calming the raging currents in your mind.

He looked at the engagement and wedding band on your left hand. He watched the tears fall, he saw the holes in you. He wanted to lunge at you, take that emotional knife away from you, smother you in affection. Hold you, his heart burned for it. Needle and thread ready to patch you up. To heal you.

He spoke softly, “You are my everything, Y/N. You aren't a burden, a disappointment, you aren't a chore, the only thing you took from me was my heart, but you had that before I even heard your voice. The second I saw you… I gave it to you. I don't want it back either.”

You hiccuped breaths as you listened. He scooted a little closer and he put his hands out, palm up into your vision… asking for your hands. That was when you realized you were scratching at them again.

You unfurled them from one another, hissing where one nail was slightly deeper, the tiny droplet of blood following soon after.

He looked at your hands, humming in the back of his throat, “One second.” He didn’t want to show it, but he was worried. You feel so much and he just wants to be there to hold you, to love you.

Then popped up and left. He came back with a first aid kit, “Oooooookay heeaarr we goar again... criss-cross.” That made you giggle the tiniest bit. Chris always loved to hear your laugh. Your laugh is infectious and it always never fails to brighten his day. He knew he was making progress.

You couldn't see it but Chris was smirking at your tiny cute form. And hearing that little giggle made him want to channel Changbin and squeal at the cuteness overload.

“Okay my Koala Bear… hands.” When you both had started dating, he noticed you always hung on to him. You explained that he was warm and you were always frozen, especially in the colder months. You asked if it was okay for you to hold on to him like that. Internally he was trying his best not to giggle like a school boy at the prospect of you holding on to him like this naturally. He looked at you and said, “It’s no problem, you just remind me of a Koala Bear, so cute and tiny. Can I call you that? My Koala Bear?” And you nodded blushing. Since then, you’ve been his Koala Bear.

You presented your hands to him wincing at the stretch of the new scratches and he said “So tiny… so cute. Okay tiny sting” he cleaned the bigger scratch and put a bandage on it, and checked the rest. Once he deemed it all good to have your hands back. He kissed them then returned them to your lap. “Thank you for letting me clean them.”

You nodded and hummed. The voices slowed down. They always slowed down around him. He always was your safe place. Like home base in a baseball game. If you made it there, you’re safe. You’re home. That thought made you sad, surprisingly. How are you safe with only one person? You should have security in yourself not in someone else. Your brain was waiting to start assaulting you again.

“Is it loud in there?” Chris asked. You've told him about all of this before, this is the first time he's seen it this bad though. The voices, memories attack you. You explained to him that sometimes your brain will do this, you try to hold it back but sometimes it just can’t be helped.

“Mhmm”

“People don't help… right?”

“mhmm”

“Can you tell me what's going on in there?”

You told him. Some.. not all. You also told him about that pesky intrusive thought about your ex and your friends.

His body went rigid as he said, “No… they're the ones that are wrong, not you. Your ex…” He wanted to choose his words carefully. He knew that you blame yourself at times. The memory of you explaining why you were hesitant to go further when you were dating. He assured you there was no pressure. That he loved you for you, the rage boiled in him and it still does because you were never at fault for this. Especially when you trusted that asshole enough to experiment with him. He was going to be your first for everything but after what he did. The trust was gone, rightfully so.

Chris continued, “He took advantage of you, and coerced you into consent, that is not love. That is not okay? That is sexual assault. The way that your friends acted was disgusting, the way he acted was sub-human… You are not depressing, you are one of the most beautiful, talented, funny, caring, loving people I have…” his voice gave out and he cleared his throat, “You are one of the most amazing people I've ever met in my life. I love you so much and I know you feel like you're a burden on me but being with you has been the most amazing thing I've ever experienced.”

He tilted your head up and you let him, he had tears in his eyes as he said, “You have never been nor will you ever be a monster.” Your tears picked up as you looked into his eyes. You could tell, Chris doesn’t lie. He’ll tell you the truth. His tears started falling as you leaned forward, reaching for him, needing contact. When you saw him you needed his warmth, you need him to heal you. You were losing hope, faith, everything as you watched the holes in you. Seeing him holding the needle and thread. By holding you, being with you, just being himself, it heals you. You whimpered, “Need you…” As your tears switched from self-hate to desperation… you needed him and he could tell.

He untangled his legs and scooped you up, cradling you in his arms as he rocked you petting your hair back, “You are my inspiration, my eternal love, you are the best part of my past, my present, and my future. You are the future mother to my children, the woman I'm going to grow old with, my forever and always. You are my Y/N, and I am never going to let you forget who you are and why I love you, okay?” He started crying, shielding you in his chest, protecting you. Stitching you together as you heard his heartbeat. You cried on him, relieved that you were with him.

You pulled back from him nodding. He tried to kiss your lips but you said “I'm all snotty” and he giggled. Leave it to you to be worried about snotty kisses. You looked so adorable, cheeks and nose red, nose running, tears stopping, the twinkle coming back into your eyes as he looked at you.

“Are you denying me my snotty kisses?” He giggled as he said “Okay fine. There's no snot on your forehead” he pecked your forehead, “none on your cheeks”, and laid another peck, this pattern continued for any expanse of skin he could get his lips on as you giggled at him and his barrage of affection. When he stopped he wiped your nose with his sleeve and he kissed you gently on the lips. He savored moments like this, being able to heal you, to pick you up. He looked into your eyes as he said, “now I am thinking I’ll draw up a bath for us and I’ll give you a nice massage. After that we order take away, from your favorite place, then we watch something, Hm?” He looked at you for an answer as he kept wiping tears.

You nodded and gently, he placed you back where you were and went to get the bath ready. You'll always have hard days, but those days turn into amazing nights with Chris. Your home.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

LIKE MY WRITING? WANT MORE? Tell me so! Want in on the tags?? Shoot me an ask and consider it done!

189 notes · View notes