#it pains me that i've been working on this for *months* yet achieved so very little

[raysrays]

Crimson Guardian NSFW

Kyojuro Rengoku x Wife! Reader

18+ MDNI!🚫

CW: NSFW Content, minor angst, controlling/manipulating behavior, fluff-ish.

Y/N POV

Scenario : You've recently married into the respected Rengoku family, and while you continue your work as a demon slayer, life starts to get a bit messy. Balancing your duties becomes a real challenge as you navigate the challenges of married life. You find yourself having to make tough choices just to keep your husband happy, all while debating to stay true to yourself and your calling as a demon slayer.

Marriage. Truly one of the most beautiful milestones a couple can achieve. Marrying Kyojuro has undoubtedly been my greatest accomplishment.

I still remember it vividly, as if it were yesterday. Surrounded by friends, family, and core members, we pledged our lives to each other. Though it wasn't the most glamorous wedding ever seen, it was enough. Because really, all I've ever wanted was Kyojuro, and now, finally, I have him.

For the first few months, our marriage was nothing short of perfect. I moved into the Rengoku estate with Kyojuro's family, assisting Shenjuro with chores and gradually trying to get closer to Shinjuro. Though I'm not sure how successful I was.

It was only six months in that I realized being a demon slayer and a wife wasn't as easy as I thought.

Before our relationship, I was Kyojuro's Tsuguko. He was simply my mentor, and I trained hard under him to get myself where I am today. It was later down the road that we noticed each other's lingering gazes, the occasional flirting, and all the other subtle hints of wanting to be more.

Kyojuro was strong, and I knew he wanted a family, but I simply wasn't ready to give up training and my duties as a demon slayer just yet.

Every day, after helping out around the estate, I would hike over to HQ and pick up where I had left off the previous day, training until the late hours of the night. I would often come home exhausted, which usually caused Kyojuro to worry. As much as I reassured him, he never seemed fully convinced.

Now, here I was, sitting at the dinner table with Kyo across from me. It was a rare occasion for us to eat alone together like this. We made small talk about our day and training, and then he finally stopped eating and put his silverware down.

"Little Flame, I think it’s time we have a serious discussion about the way things have been as of late,” his usual happy smile seemed almost nervous.

I set my spoon down on my plate, giving him my full attention.

“Yes? What is it?”

“Sunflower, you have been working so hard as of late, and it’s quite admirable. I truly admire your dedication to the demon slayer corps and your training!”

“But…?” I ask, confused.

“But… since our marriage, I’ve found myself in constant worry over you. Every time you go on a mission without me, I have to painfully wait for your return. Not knowing whether or not you'd be injured or even-“

“Dead?” I finish.

I saw his body tense up at the word.

“Yes, my love. Dead. I cannot even bear the thought of you never returning to me. It pains me to my core,” he seemed so sad, so worried about me.

I know Kyojuro, I know he didn’t mean anything bad by what he was saying. However, I felt almost offended. He too was a slayer, a hashira. I also had to deal with the fear of him returning with serious injuries or even never returning at all.

Did he believe me to be incapable of protecting myself? He was the very one who trained me. Even though I knew Kyojuro was strong, much stronger than me, it just felt like he lacked faith in me.

“You don’t think I’m strong enough anymore? Do you think marriage has made me soft?” I realized I might have come off a little too harsh, but my emotions were getting the best of me.

His expression seemed surprised, but I could tell. While he may not have used those words, that was definitely the gist of it.

I watched him get up from his place at the table and walk over to me. He pulled my chair out from under the table, then grabbed my hands and kneeled down in front of me.

His big, bright eyes were now staring up at me.

“You are one of the strongest people I know, my love. I know how capable you are, but please remember…”

He brought my hands to his lips, kissing them softly.

“You are my wife before you are a demon slayer. I cannot risk sending you off only for you to never return.”

I could practically hear the desperation and love in his voice.

Kyojuro wasn’t someone who would usually discourage anyone from pursuing something they're passionate about. So if he was now, I knew that it’s something he’s been internally battling with for a while.

“What about you? Is it not the same? What about my worry? What if you never come home to me?” I could feel my face start to heat up. Everything he was saying seemed to come from genuine care, but it felt so hypocritical.

“I am a Hashira, my little flame. I have a certain responsibility you do not have to burden yourself with. I shall retire soon, in just a few years. So please…”

There’s no way he’d ask me-

“Please retire your sword, Y/N. Please stay home for me. Please allow my heart to rest easy knowing you'll be here waiting for me whenever I shall return,” his voice was pleading.

I felt so conflicted. I’d worked so hard. All of these years of training to hopefully become a high-ranking swordsman myself. However, at the same time, I never stopped to consider my romantic life and how being married would affect things.

We both sat there in silence for a few moments, and I finally rose up from the chair, pulling him up off his knees along with me.

I looked up at him, reaching my hand up to rest on his cheek.

“Kyojuro, you are the only one I would retire my sword for. So please promise me, promise me you will always come home to me. Until the day you yourself retire.”

“I promise you, Sunflower. As long as I know you are safe and waiting for me, there is no demon that could ever keep me away.”

I felt his hand on my lower back and the other holding up my chin.

We both leaned in, our lips meeting in a tender kiss.

This kiss started so gently, so lovingly at first. As we pulled away for just a moment, staring into each other’s eyes, we realized how long it had been since we really enjoyed each other’s company.

After that, the kiss only grew hotter and more passionate.

Kyojuro swept me off my feet and carried me straight to our shared room at the back of the estate, the most private spot. It seemed fitting for newlyweds, after all.

As he gently laid me back on the soft futon, I couldn't help but stay focused on him. Kyojuro was simply beautiful. His hair, his eyes, his body, everything about him looked like he was perfectly sculpted.

My admiration was interrupted as I felt him begin to kiss me again. One of his hands traveling to my breasts, gently squeezing it.

The other massaging my thigh.

I feel him pull away from me starting to kiss on my neck traveling all the way down to my chest.

Kyojuro had always known my weak points and how to make me say yes to his every request. He knew my body just as well as I did, and now he was taking full advantage of that knowledge.

I could feel him pressing against me as he moved his hand down my body, lightly touching me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer to me, wanting more.

Then I heard, Kyojuro's soft voice whisper these words, almost as a demand. "Enjoy this little flame, you've kept me waiting far too long.”

As soon as those words left his lips, I felt myself begin to relax. His movements were so gentle, so careful, so loving.

His fingers trailed down my sides, sending chills through my body. His hands went back up and caressed my neck, making me tremble. He kissed me once more, and I melted into him.

It was as if he had cast a spell over me, and all I could do was obey him. He was completely in control of me.

After a moment, I felt him move back down and remove my underwear, revealing my already wet entrance. His hand slid between my thighs, and I couldn't help but let out a moan as his finger slipped inside me. He was gentle at first, just barely grazing me, but it felt incredible.

"Is this okay?" he asked softly, his breath hot against my ear.

I nodded but I could tell that wasn’t enough for him.

“Use your words my love.” He demanded sweetly.

“Yes Kyo, it’s perfect.” I said, my voice trembling.

He leaned down and kissed my lips before pulling back again, smiling at me.

"I want to be inside of you," he whispered, his voice filled with desire.

"Please," I begged.

He removed his fingers, replacing them with his cock, his tip rubbing against my clit.

"Good girl," he whispered, thrusting into me.

I threw back my head, arching my back and digging my nails into his shoulders. His movements were slow and deep at first and then they became faster and harder, and soon my whole body began to shake. I couldn't stop the moans from escaping my lips, and I couldn't help but beg for more.

When he starts to speed up I know we are both about to reach our limit.

I feel his fingers interlock with mine and his lips pressing against mine again, but this time, he wasn’t just kissing me, he was also letting his teeth graze my bottom lip.

He was biting down hard enough to draw blood.

We were both so close and we were both trying to hold back but we couldn’t anymore. We were finally going to let ourselves release.

I was the first one to let myself go, arching my back as I moaned his name.

Then he followed not too far behind.

After he finishes, we just lay there for a bit catching our breath.

“I love you, Y/N,” he finally breathed out, turning his head to look at me.

I turned to face him as well. “I love you, Kyojuro.”

After that, the two of us drifted off in each other's arms for the rest of the night.

The next morning when I awoke, I was still trapped wrapped in Kyojuro's arms.

After a bit of struggling, I managed to maneuver my way out and make it to the kitchen.

There I saw Senjuro, who was already preparing breakfast for everyone.

“Good morning, Sen,” I greeted with a yawn.

“Oh, good morning, Y/N!”

“I'm almost finished with breakfast. Is my brother awake yet?”

“He should be awake soon. We both have to see Master Kagaya today,” I said, rubbing my eyes.

He stopped to turn and look at me.

“Did something bad happen?” he asked nervously.

Poor Senjuro always assumes the absolute worst in every situation. Well, I suppose in this case it’s somewhat understandable.

“No, Sen, nothing's wrong. Kyojuro and I are just going to inform Master Kagaya of my retirement. That’s all.”

He gave a puzzled look.

“Retirement? Why? Haven’t you been training for years to improve your sword skills to move up in the ranks?” he asked.

He was right. I know I shouldn’t go back on my word to Kyojuro, but I really was having second thoughts about my decision.

Senjuro could probably sense my doubt because his next response was:

"If this is something that you're not sure of, then you shouldn't do it. If you have doubts about this decision, then maybe you're not ready for retirement just yet."

His words really struck a chord with me.

Maybe he was right.

Before I could ponder that any further, Kyojuro had made his way into the kitchen.

"Good morning! How are my two favorite people doing?" he said cheerfully.

I smiled.

"Morning, Kyo. Did you sleep well?"

"I did, actually. Thank you, little flame," he walked over to me, giving me a kiss.

I could feel my chest tightening, nervous about what was to come.

The whole time at breakfast, I felt so spaced out. All I could hear was Kyojuro and Senjuro talking and the occasional grunt from Shinjuro drinking away at the table.

“Sunflower? Are you okay?”

I was snapped out of my daze by Kyojuro waving a hand in front of my face. All three of them were staring at me, kind of concerned.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Sorry.”

I shook my head a little and looked down at my plate. I felt bad for Senjuro going through all that trouble to cook, but I simply couldn’t eat right now.

After we finished breakfast, Kyojuro and I headed out.

The thought that this would be the last time wearing my uniform with my sword by my side was so weird and almost uncomfortable to me.

I knew that this day would come eventually, but I always hoped in the back of my mind that Kyojuro would be the one to retire before me.

I had been so focused on training and my duties as a demon slayer that it had never even occurred to me how my marriage would affect everything.

I was now a wife. My first priority should be the estate, and helping Shinjuro while he was in his state of grief, and being there for Senjuro as well.

It wouldn’t be right of me to go against my husband's wishes either. Especially after the intimate moment we shared. Right?

As we made it to HQ waiting to speak with the master I felt my heartbeat racing inside of me.

The room was quiet, I could feel Kyojuro’s eyes lingering on me but I couldn’t bring myself to face him right now.

Both mine and Kyojuro’s attention was shifted as we heard the door open and Master Kagaya entered the room.

"Rengoku, Y/N. It's a pleasure to see you both," Kagaya said, his face as warm as ever.

"It's wonderful to see you too, Master," I replied.

"So what brings you two here? It seems urgent, judging by the fact that you came in so early."

"It is very urgent," Kyojuro began.

He then proceeded to explain our conversation from the night before, and how I was considering retiring.

"Y/N, this is a big decision, and it's important that you feel comfortable and confident in it. Do you think you can fully retire, knowing you won't be able to assist the demon slayers as you are now?" Kagaya asked.

I looked at the master and then glanced at Kyojuro. He seemed so proud and happy that we were here. I could feel the warmth radiating from him.

But, I could also sense the worry in his expression. He was nervous, scared almost.

I couldn't do that to him.

"Master, I've spent most of my life training for the opportunity to become a hashira. To serve the demon slayer corps and protect those who cannot protect themselves. But...I'm no longer just a demon slayer. I'm also a wife, and as such, I think it's only right that I focus on that," I answered.

The room fell silent for a moment.

"If you truly feel this is the right choice, then we support you, Y/N," Kagaya finally spoke.

"Thank you, Master," I bowed.

"Thank you so much, Master! I will never

forget your kindness!" Kyojuro bowed as well.

The two of us left the room and started to head out.

As we exited, we ran into a few of the other Hashira, who asked us about what we had gone to see Master Kagaya about.

They too seemed surprised and a little concerned when Kyojuro explained to them that I would be retiring so soon.

I could tell some of their reactions to the news annoyed Kyojuro. Shinobu used the word “controlling,” and you could see his smile almost falter.

"Controlling" was never a word I would have used to describe my husband. He just loves me, right? He wants to protect me. There's no way my sweet and kind Kyo would ever do anything to control or manipulate me.

Right?

Part Two

#demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba #kny rengoku #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku x reader #x reader #kny #kny hashira #yandere rengoku #yandere #light angst #rengoku x y/n #rengoku smut #kny kyojuro #kny smut #smut #kyojuro rengoku x reader #kyojuro rengoku #kny x reader #demon slayer rengoku #demon slayer smut #kyojuro x reader #kimestu no yaiba #anime #hashira x reader #fluff #oneshot #headcanon

[sun-lit-roses]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you for the tags @curator-on-ao3 and @emonydeborah! I apologize for how long it's taken me to respond 💛

I'm so late to this, I have no idea who's already done it. If you haven't yet, please, please consider yourself tagged - and tag me in your response so that I can read your answers! (Actually if you have done it already, also link me so I can read your answers. These are fun questions with bonus fic recs so I'd like to see them all!)

Anyway, I got a little rambly, so I'll put in a cut to not murder anyone's dash 😁

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 82.

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 397,560.

3. What fandoms do you write for? I've been primarily writing Star Trek (Strange New Worlds and Voyager) lately, with a dash of The Librarians and Leverage.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Fringe Benefits (SNW) - My beloved monument to ridiculousness where I approach the totally canon subject of Chris Pike's horse skills via Number One's hair.

October 2373 (Voyager)- My magnum opus! The one time I've managed to achieve completion of an October prompt list - five of them. In one coherent (ish) fic. Granted, it did take me until December... but the point is that I finished it! It follows a very eventful and occasionally random month aboard the Starship Voyager, where they have to deal with imprisonment, alien attacks, diplomatic meetings, and Kathryn's inability to talk about her feelings.

For the Captain Who Has Everything: A Prixin Story (Voyager) - Look. You can't just give me three delightful misfits for ONLY ONE EPISODE and not expect me to adopt them as my own. SO this is what happened next for the little Good Shepherd flock, where 'what happened next' is shenanigans to set up their Captain with her First Officer as a gesture of gratitude.

Growing Pains (SNW) - Aw, one of my early Chris and Una fics! This is one of the set I wrote while the first season was just airing weekly - hard to believe that was almost two years ago 😲 This one was the aftermath of Una 'I'm just fine-ing' her way into emergency surgery and Chris letting her know that there were things up with which he would not put - top of the list being losing his Number One.

Command Advice (SNW) - Another of the early SNW set! This was my 'spicier' take on the resulting conversation between Chris and Una after she learns about her Where Fun Goes to Die nickname. In one version, they have a very serious conversation about Starfleet principles. In *this* version, they're less serious. Also naked.

5. Do you respond to comments? Yes! Or at least I try. I love and cherish every comment, but I tend to run (very) behind on responding and have to play the game of 'is it weird to reply to a comment this late?'

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? My very first fic ever! Actually I think it might be my only fic with an angsty ending. I guess I got it all out of my system early. That one is Wednesday, a Sanctuary fic where Helen has a very sad day.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Literally everything else. I can't even pick out of my collection of sappiness.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not really.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Yes, there's very little I would not be willing to at least try writing! Up to now I think I've written at least mildly smutty M/F, F/F, and F/M/M sexcapades and/or BDSM. I'm working my way around to some F/F/M for SNW if I could get the three of them to cooperate.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? I think I've only written one crossover and it was for SNW/The Librarians, bringing about a meeting between Eve Baird and Una Chin-Riley, which we would have in a fair and just universe.

Wait, I take that back! I also had a little snippet on Tumblr where Hawkeye, BJ, Jonathan, and Ardeth meet up, because The Mummy/MASH is... certainly a combo. Actually, I think I also had a snippet of Gomez Addams meeting Hawkeye and BJ? What is it about MASH?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Also not that I know of.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Kind of? The Discord crowdsourced the plot to a ridiculously hilarious fic and I wrote a bit of it for fun, but I'm not sure if that counts? Co-writing does sound like a good time, though!

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? Voyager! The happiest little ship in the Delta Quadrant 🚀

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I have a lot of bits and pieces on my hard drive that will never be finished and released into the Ao3 wilds - the plot didn't work out/was barely a plot, I've moved on from the fandom, I was trapped in a fever dream of my nieces playing Frozen on repeat, blacked out, and woke up to 3 chapters dealing with the socio-political ramifications of Elsa decamping and Anna appointing the prince of another land in charge rather than Arendelle's Privy Council. Anyway.

The WIPs I have posted, though, I fully intend to finish at some point! It may take a while and it might not be my original planned ending, but they haunt me. So one day I will have to put them to rest. Possibly with a 2x4, tarp, and shovel.

16. What are your writing strengths? I like to think I'm pretty good at getting into the character's voice. I hope so, at least; I spend a lot of time on it! Also, humor, although that one is objective, of course.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Commas. Clearly.

Structurally, it varies per fic, but I have a habit of running thin on plot. I start strong at A, want to get to B, but the middle gets kind of wander-y. This also leads to me sometimes stalling mid-project if I get distracted or pulled away - hence my current three WIPs. Though it doesn't help that the past six months have sucked on letting me have much free time.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? If it was short, easy dialogue in Spanish or French I might be able to swing it. Otherwise, I would need to phone a friend.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Sanctuary!

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? This is a hard one. I love them all for different reasons, some of which have more to do with the time I was writing them than with the actual contents. Reluctance was my first multi-chapter fic ever back in the FFN days, so that seems like a pretty good candidate. I learned so much while writing that fic!

#this was a fun trip down memory lane! #or my works list on ao3 at least #apologies for talking a lot #now i need to hunt up everyone else's so i can see their answers! #writing

[daydream-cement]

Hello Kaley!

I have a Fern x Larissa request. :)

Based on the busy busy life they have as teachers. Larissa needs to have a quick talk with Fern about her performance and her taking on a new farming club. Fern is in a rush ‘cause she still has classes and needs to prepare for exams. Larissa is rushing behind her ‘cause she’s about to get into an important meeting too but needed to address this first. (They are officially dating now maybe 3rd month or so). Anyways Larissa is our sequoia tree so she was so focused on talking with Fern and catching up to her that she didn’t notice that the stone arc on the hallway they are turning into is shorter than the rest and she bumps into it and almost falls or falls (this building is hella old and is falling apart) .Fern cancels class and tends to her wounds and they eat together ‘cause it’s 6pm and they haven’t even had a bite. 

Kind of specific? HAHAH

-Ana

Tumble and Fall

Larissa Weems x OC (Fern Rogers)

Authors Note: very specific, but not too specific. it just perfect! helps me write easier without having too many details that impedes my creativity.

“Sweetheart, I have to get out to the garden. Students are waiting for me, but we can walk and talk.” You gathered your phone, keys, and water bottle from your desk and spun around, almost running into Larissa.

"That works for me. I only have 10 minutes for this meeting." Larissa responds, taking you by the shoulders and guiding you to the side so you can keep walking without running into her, "Now we have done a performance review before and I know that you are doing wonderfully, but it's just a formality."

"Sounds great." You say, waiting for the first question. You were walking quickly to the gardens on the other side of campus with Larissa hot on your heels.

"We will keep these questions focused on the new gardening club to make it easy. How do you plan to engage students in the content?" Larissa kept looking down at her form as she spoke, making sure she asked all of the questions the way they were written.

You tried to put on your professionalism hat and answer the questions in proper detail, "Students are encouraged to select plants that they would like to grow and potentially consume. By choosing this method of plant selection, students will be more engaged in the content because they have more choice in the process."

"How do you plan to assess student achievement of the goals?" Larissa immediately follows up your answer with another question.

"Student achievement will be indicated by successful growth of plants or a written plan of planned improvements for next growing season. Students will not be punished by failure to grow plants, rather their failure can be used as a tool for improvement."

You turned a corner with Larissa still looking down at the paper in her hand. She laughed at your response, "You're good at this. Based on your daily interactions with your students, how do you think they perceive you?"

"Best teacher ever." You joked before giving your real answer, "I think the students perceive me as a safe place if need be. I try to maintain a more casual classroom environment so students feel comfortable being themselves. I've found that students enjoy being in the botany classroom."

You turned another corner to head down a flight of steps to go down a level that leads to the garden space. This building was a ridiculous series of twists and turns. You only hear part of her question before hearing a loud thump, followed by the sound of Larissa hitting the stone floor, "How will you utilize what you taught today to make connections-"

You turn around to see her laying on the ground, holding her head. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her face was twisted with pain, yet she didn't make a sound, "Oh, sweetheart. Are you okay?"

You drop to the floor next to her and glance up to see the way the arch dipped lower above this doorway than others. Larissa must have been looking at the script of questions instead of thinking about ducking. You shift yourself so you can pull her shoulders and head into your lap. Her eyes slowly fluttered open and you could see they were glazed with the involuntary tears brought on by pain, "Christ..."

"Larissa, talk to me." You gently rub your fingers against her cheek, hoping she will form more words so you know that she is okay. Your eyes widened big when she just shook her head no.

------

"Feeling better?" You ask, sitting between Larissa's legs on the couch. You had ordered in food for the both of you, canceling your meetings and clubs for the evening.

"Mhm, much better." You had National Geographic playing on the television, playing a miscellaneous show that neither of you picked.

You set your box of pad Thai on the coffee table and turn around to face her. You take her face in your hands, turning it so you can get a better look at the blacking bruise on her face, "Doesn't look great. What weekday is it? How many siblings do I have? How old are you?"

"I do not have a concussion. It's a Tuesday. You are an only child with many cousins and I am 24." You knew by the end of her sentence that she had her wits fully about her and she was messing with you.

"You definitely have a concussion. I know for a fact that you are 25." You decided to tease her right back, grabbing your food and turning around to rest against her chest.

That night you enjoyed a night off, even if it was at Larissa's expense. You shared bites of your Thai food and watched a show about what certain parts of the ocean would look like if they were drained of water. You were both enamored by the show and enjoyed a relaxing evening in one another's company.

#larissa weems #gwendoline christie #wednesday netflix #fanfic #oneshot #stately sequoia #larissa weems x oc #the cedars have eyes #larissa weems fluff #fern rogers #ferissa #violet and rose

[onetrackminded]

Newly Diagnosed w/ PTSD

It was simultaneously surprising and not surprising. For one, I've known for years now I've probably been suffering from a kind of CPTSD from childhood and adolescence. I've had triggers, flashbacks, and nerve-wracking anxiety for a while. Weirdly enough though, all those things were relatively mild in comparison to my bigger problems (namely bipolar disorder and various neurodiversities).

Three years ago, my trauma symptoms were present but incredibly manageable with some run-of-the-mill Buspar. This is partly due to the fact that I was ignorant to the scope and span of the abuse I faced and was still facing. It was normalized. I believe trauma is much easier to cope with when you're not aware of it and when you're still in it, at least in my case.

Now that I've escaped a three-year-long abusive relationship, all of that has changed. It felt like for the first time, I was experiencing all these new and gravely intense symptoms of trauma. I'm living with my mother now, a situation caused by financial abuse in my previous relationship. I love my mother, and she's endlessly generous and helpful, but living with her and my baby brother feels like trying to re-integrate back into society after leaving a cult.

When I spoke to my therapist about some of the symptoms I was having, she gave me a PTSD questionnaire to fill out. I was weirdly shocked and validated by many of the symptoms listed, such as the ones concerning apathy.

For months at that point, I'd been having issues with feeling much of anything. Even when I'm in the midst of crying and processing my pain, I'll have moments where I completely stop crying and go numb. It's uncanny, and feels like my emotions are heavily compartmentalized.

The worst part of apathy is how it can make you treat people in your life. Every little thing can become irritating. Triggers are everywhere; I've described it before as being like a minefield. There is no avoiding them. That means I frequently suspect the people I love are trying to hurt me, which can cause me to act defensively and short-fused.

Thankfully, the folks in my life right now are very understanding. I always do my best to apologize for my behavior and explore my fears with them, but that is painstakingly difficult. It often feels as though my brain is requiring immense amounts of emotional labor in order to be calm (or something akin to calm).

I have a lot of work to do. More work than I've ever done, arguably. The thing about PTSD is that it requires so much constant diligence. Apathy must be met with a problem-solving attitude: identify the unmet (usually emotional) need, then meet it. Meeting those needs requires walking through the terror, teeth quite literally gritted shut, and trusting that the people around you aren't abusing you even though every fibre of your being is telling you otherwise.

It means staying up late and worrying that you're falling into the same abuse traps again, then needing to analyze and re-analyze with the people around you to quell that fear. Then, once peace is achieved, you get triggered yet again. The cycle repeats sometimes mere minutes after the conclusion of the last. Trauma is sisyphean in this way; pushing boulders up mountains just for it to fall back down. An endless tide of failure.

As pessimistic as I'd like to continue being, I know it gets better. Someday, I'd like to think I'll be able to go weeks without being triggered. Someday, if I work hard enough, I can know peace again, or whatever thing akin to peace I had before.

#ptsd #ptsd recovery #ptsd support #mental health #neurodiversity #psychology #actually cptsd #living with cptsd #complex ptsd #just cptsd things #autism #autism in women

[stormboundscholar]

Journal Entry

31.13.2023

Hey everyone. I hope you guys have been doing well! I haven't posted in a while because things have been just a little hectic. I just wanted to post once again before the year ended.

It has been... Interesting lately. I've had my share of ups and downs. My studies are a major part of my life (probably to an unhealthy level) so my exam results effect my overall mood. This is usually manageable, but I I had a streak of bad exam results around two weeks ago and I had to change my life a little bit. I am trying to be a little more grounded, and to study a bit more than usual. It's worked so far, and I am starting to see some results too. I hope that I can keep this up.

I could continue talking about work, it would probably be more appropriate for a study blog like this one. But to be honest I am just not feeling it today. You may notice a sharp tone change after this paragraph because I just want to vent a little.

I want to be honest, It has been a hard year.

I am a perfectionist. I expect a lot more from myself than I should. But I just feel like I don't have a choice, or maybe I am just continuing a mistake.

I am tired. I am basing my identity on my achievements. I have seen this before on a lot of media that I consume. I am becoming an arrogant asshole because I am just not fit for the job.

I live in a developing country. Fuck developing, you could just say poor. I was born a male and in my nation that means it is my responsibility to provide. I don't want to be poor, and I don't want a theoretical family I may have to be poor. The only way I can do that is if I get into a good university and then a good job. So I feel like I have to be one of the best. But I can't handle the work load.

I am also very alone. I have been neglecting my family, my friends, and people that I would have wanted to know more deeply. I feel that it has been getting harder and harder for me to join their conversations, and I feel like an observer rather than a participant in conversations. I am rotting in a prison I built myself, only my echoes to talk with.

My body is also a mess. I can't continue my weight loss for some reason. It's probably because I have been almost completely sedentary lately. Also haven't been getting much sleepor sunlight. It's a wonder that I am still alive despite all of that.

I think that this is burnout. I am showing a lot of symptoms of it at least.

I don't know what to do. I have so many things to manage but I'm not strong enough. I feel as if I am failing to keep up with everything in my life.

Fuck is it bad. I built a rube goldberg machine of fuck-ups to ruin my life.

I will try to be better this year. Despite everything my situation could still be fixable.

Sadly my first priority for the next 5 months will still be my studies. I have dug that hole too deep to climb out of it.

I may try to be a little more active. Some bodyweight exercises should be a little helpful. I have also been taking the stairs instead of escalators lately so that could help.

Friends are a bit tricky. I haven't had a serious hobby since last year and that limits my conversations. I'm also a little distant to them which makes conversations challenging. I also learnt that some people find me intimidating which could be pushing them away. Fuck do I have a lot to do on this front.

I also decided to try being a little more romantic this year. I'm 18 and I haven't even had a date before, maybe having a partner will help with loneliness. So I will be a little more daring this year on this front.

An incredibly depressing list of goals for 2024. It's pretty much the same as last year's list, except I am starting from a worse point. I still hope that I can use these goals as ideals for who I want to be.

If you've read this, thank you. I wouldn't want to spread my pain to others but my brain still wants to be heard. If you skipped to the end, well all that you'd miss is yet another person whining about life. Nothing exceptional.

Good night everyone and good luck with whatever troubles you might be having!

#diary entry #self improvement #studyblr #productive #online diary #melanchaholic #personal rant

[schraubd]

Giving Myself an "Atta Boy"

  Confession time: I'm not much of an exerciser. I played rec sports as a kid, and while I enjoyed it, I was never serious about it. Same in college -- I enjoyed playing intramural floor hockey, but that was really about it. Once I graduated and the sort of automatic opportunities to play sports went away, I was never someone who wanted to join a pickup basketball game or anything like that. And things like running, or going to the gym? Forget about it. Always found them to be incredibly boring. But without consciously working out, being a professor is a pretty sedentary lifestyle. As a graduate student things were a little better just because I lived about a mile's walk from campus -- just the right amount to get some steps in without it being too much of a drain. But then the pandemic hit, and nobody saw the sun for a few years. That corresponding to me hitting my mid-30s was not a great combo. I tried a few things. We bought a "RingFit" for the Switch -- didn't really catch on. I tried doing sit-ups each morning or using a "stepper" machine, but they didn't really take. One problem is that I have recurrent knee and lower-leg problems, which meant that the shock even of jogging very quickly caused terrible pain. So it was in particularly really hard to do any cardio, which is what I really thought I needed but could never fully motivate myself to do in earnest. But this summer, my wife and I bought a recumbent bike. And I really like it. More importantly, I've stuck with it. I can get genuine cardio without destroying my knees, which is something that had always been my white whale. And after years of never getting past (extremely) sporadic exercise patterns, I've been able to commit to riding the bike almost every day. I'm not smashing any records or anything like that; my goals have been modest -- at first, just trying to go 10 miles in 40 minutes (the length of one Hell's Kitchen episode). More recently, I kicked that up to 11 miles in 40 minutes, and today, for the first time ever, I did 12 miles in 40 minutes. Again, nothing objectively impressive. But it was a big achievement for me, and so I'm very happy about it. One of my initial ambitions when I started using the bike admittedly was to lose some weight -- not so much for aesthetic reasons, and more that I have a whole closet full of perfectly good pre-pandemic suits that I'd love to fit back into rather than having to buy a new wardrobe. That hasn't really happened -- my weight has stayed remarkably stable, which is less of a disappointment than a source of profound confusion: I don't feel like I'm eating any differently, so it seems to defy physics that I have the same inputs, can add working out six days a week to my daily routine as outputs, and yet not have it have any effect on my body mass. Newton, hold my beer. But I've decided to stop thinking of it as "not losing weight" and start thinking of it as "a heroic holding-of-the-line against the ravages of middle-aged metabolism." But really, that's all of secondary concern. The fact is that after years of essentially not exercising at all, I have for the past several months been extremely diligent and reliable in exercising most evenings, and I feel really good about that. So I'm giving myself an "atta boy". What are you atta boying yourself for this year? via The Debate Link https://ift.tt/1D7lrca

#exercise #Personal

[myretransitiondiary]

Morning gaming sesh of call of duty. Rudegrrl2667 on twitch if y'all are interested haha. Anyway. I'm posting a pic rn because I have like... *Knocks on wood* perfect skin RN and I have no idea why. I haven't been avoiding the foods I'm allergic too (turns out I'm mildly allergic to wheat, corn, beef and whey I found out super recently). I've been going to doc appointments because very often I get small hive-like occurrences around my nose and also on my back that last for weeks and sometimes even months.

I wish I knew how to get rid of the hives or whatever they are for good but unfortunately they are unpredictable and seem to have no rhyme or reason no matter what I've been eating or not eating (I've tried cutting foods out and also not, and still it's unpredictable). But today is a happy day because they aren't around! First time in months. Interestingly, my father also has issues with his skin and rashes on his face occasionally. Anyway, my skin is doing crazy good rn and I have no clue why lol.

Gratitude is important. I have so much to be thankful for in life. I've experienced a lot of bad in my life, yes. But also so, so much good. I'm so proud to come from the family I come from. I'm so proud of all of them and I feel proud to carry the same last name. I want to start accomplishing things. My family are doers. I need to start doing.

I got a seasonal position at Nordstrom at the perfume counter, it's a short term gig but it's kind of adorable. Looking forward to having something to do and making some money in quite a bougie atmosphere tbh haha.

I have to admit, I struggle with holding down jobs. I don't get fired, but I have moved jobs many... Many times. I have had bouts of panic and depression that pop up without warning that makes me want to give up which has lost me my fair share of amazing job opportunities. The knowledge of this is a little painful. I just want to do well and feel successful in my life and it seems like that is the one thing I cannot seem to achieve yet. It's not like going on disability is actually an option either, I've thought about it from time to time. It's just not enough money to live off of ultimately. Idk. It's definitely the biggest hurtle in my life, or has been.

My partner has been kind enough to support me while I've been out of work this time. I don't know what I would do without her honestly in so many ways. She shows me so much love and support, I often hope that I am doing enough for her in return. My partner is a newly transitioning transgender female (mtf). I love her and support her journey fully. I didn't regret transitioning the first time myself. Being Joey was an extremely important part of my journey to becoming who I am today.

Everyone is allowed to regret transitioning if they want to. I'm not saying you can't do that or feel that way. I just.... Don't believe in encouraging that way of thinking. If I had a child who ended up transitioning, I would want them to know that they should love themselves no matter what their human bodies look or sound like. Just because I don't look or sound how I would have if I hadn't transitioned to be a man, doesn't mean I'm not beautiful just the way I am now. I just wish we all wanted to love ourselves and wanted others to do the same no matter what.

God. Sometimes I wish I could give my partner advice when it comes to the next two years of transition for her.... I would tell her to stop waiting to live. Stop... Waiting to "arrive" at the perfect you. Let transition happen to you while you're living your life fearlessly. We are never done "cooking" as I like to say. So just go out and live like no one is watching 😭♥️

#artists of tumblr #artists on tumblr #detransition #lgbt #lgbtq #transgender #youtube #nonbinary #transfeminine #trans #ftmtf #ftmtf girl #non binary #skincare #dermatology #twitch #call of duty #transwoman #mtf #allergies #food allergies #mental illness #mental health

[astraltrickster]

Something that I think a lot of people who have never experienced it don't understand about disability - and something that I'd love to portray/see portrayed more in writing - is not just how common it is to think that a symptom is something everyone experiences until they've had that symptom for years (I didn't realize I was actually diagnosably hypermobile until last month because in hindsight my mother is OBVIOUSLY the one I got it from and she was always convinced that she was THE definition of average flexibility and she was very much not), but also exactly HOW the mindset shift works, and how it does and does not affect your body, when you go from thinking something is just an unpleasant but NORMAL thing to realizing it's probably a case of Problems Disorder.

Physically speaking, my lifelong pain and joint instability has not gotten worse since realizing I have a Beighton score of 7, when 5 or higher in an adult indicates a probable hypermobility spectrum disorder (and lower doesn't even rule one out) (the maximum score is 9). Nothing has changed in that regard. My joints do not slip more than they used to. They don't really hurt more than they used to - I think about it a little more, but I can be distracted from it just as easily.

However, something DID very abruptly get worse when I found that out: fatigue.

Why?

Because being AWARE that those moments when my joints slip are Not Normal, being AWARE of how every time my knee hyperextends and I jolt forward is a serious injury for someone else even if it doesn't hurt me at all THIS time, being AWARE that sudden knee and ankle pain when I just take a "normal" step apparently sometimes happens for a damned good reason, being AWARE that some of the muscle cramps I get after a long day are very likely the result of my body fighting to keep all my parts where they're supposed to be...that shit is EXHAUSTING.

And yet. And yet. As someone who has been through this before, I know it will go away and I'll have my usual endurance again (if not better when I get more help minimizing the excess energy drain of keeping myself in one piece!) in a few months at most, because I can't just stay here THINKING about it forever. Even if and when I get a diagnosis for sure (which is gonna be fun since a lot of evidence points to EDS, which I know many doctors do not take seriously at all)...as much as abled people think "recognizing that you have a disability and may need to adapt things at all" is ~obsessing~ over it and ~limiting yourself~, no, eventually that fades into the background and things like "okay so if everyone else is doing X and I can't do that let's see what I can use to do Y to achieve the same end" just become second nature. It's just Our Normal. (Which also translates to meaning that if we WERE as "obsessed" with our disabilities and inaccessibility as abled people think we are, we'd be EVEN angrier about systemic inaccessibility than we already are, so maybe you should be a little more grateful for the impressive adaptability of the human animal because without that adaptability you'd be hearing a LOT MORE complaints and a LOT more of them would probably involve beating you with mobility aids for being obstinate jackasses!)

I wish I knew how to illustrate this more in writing, and I really want to see this kind of thing written about by others more, because it's an experience I've had many times, and heard about from others even more times, and yet rarely see actually written about except in the form of personal essays like this.

#disability #writing

[mirror-and-adapt]

I want to be transparent with myself on this one.

Yesterday I ate so much of homemade tofu from red lentils with spices and a salad that I felt like my stomach is about to burst. I drank 3 huge cups of tea which probably added up to 1.5l and tons of water to wash it out. I have not felt this sick in years and I have certainly not been this full in months (especially since proteins keep you full for longer and take more time to be digested). I felt my body going crazy, the pain was reminding me that it is really not worth it, the taste. I had been craving protein packed meal in literal weeks and I guess I got it, but I have to admit, my mind was not there when I was eating it. I have no idea how many calories was in there and I dread the day I find out the number. Still, it was a binge. Yesterday I didn't want to admit it to myself because I really didn't want to have a setback, to fail. I really wanted it this time, the weight loss, to be perfect, without mistakes. But I don't like that very much. I need to own up, to be able to move on.

I feel like the years in which I was in the binge eating cycle I had never owned up. I was always just guilty, embarrassed, humiliated, and felt such shame about the body that I ruined and the life I couldn't get back. I couldn't stop eating, even if somebody made a passing comment that I look like a pig. It just made me want to eat even more, for the comfort I needed was more important than achieving something that would get rid of the shame and frankly, the comments.

Everyday I was getting up and the first thought in my mind was: I need to diet. I need to lose weight. The thing I was doing though, after that, was eating. Like somebody was going to steal that food from me. At the end of the day I was full, with another thought: I need to lose weight. I'll start tomorrow. And then ate a few more things from the fridge and the counter, cause you know, I wasn't gonna be able to have it the next day. But I almost always did.

It was like that for years, no matter how healthy-ish or vegan or vegetarian the meals were and how hard I was trying to exercise (which I really loved, just not in that body) which made me stop exercising altogether and eat very much less healthy. Sure, I had my good months when I was losing but I always ruined it.

So I really, really wanted for it to be perfect this time. I was worried eating too much was going to put me in the cycle again. That once I get a taste of it, I won't be able to stop for another year.

But what I found out was, after that meal, the fear of going back was stronger this time.

Back then I wasn't able to stop because I was stuck in the past. Like oh, I had this or that body or I was at that weight etc. and now I'm just getting fatter and I can't stop eating and I need to and it makes me feel so bad I feel the need to eat more. No matter how many times I've tried, I always ended up binging day after day. I feel like I've never even considered that the past is not coming back. That thin body I once worked out for when I was 15 is not coming back. The weight loss from that time was perfect, no mistakes, I was seeing a lower number everday and I worried about nothing. That me is not coming back either. The perfect me. That gifted kid. It hurts so much to say this. I did lose my potential, but I still hope I just misplaced it or hid it somewhere I can't yet remember.

The truth is, I either start working for the me in the future or I'll be stuck forever in whatever the fuck this is. I have never wanted to live past 15 nor 18, so it is very fucking hard to do something kinda future-oriented as a 23 year old person. I admit, I am stuck in the past more than I'd like to admit. If this was happening a few months ago, I would overthink and worry about that binge from yesterday so much that I'd need some comfort and that means I'd binge just to feel better about the previous binge. Crazy ass cycle.

But I am owning up today. I understand what it means to be stuck and this time, hopefully, I can do something regarding it because the feeling I get when I think of coming back is terrible. Maybe the past wasn't as perfect as I thought. At least not all of it. And maybe none of it, and I just really wanted it to be because I have nothing to look forward to, even if what I was looking forward to, my past, I couldn't get back.

Some people find it motivating to look at their old pictures, when they were skinnier, but I just find myself humiliated and ready to ruin it all for a piece of food that I don't need. I have rarely ever said I binged. I couldn't say it out loud. It wasn't real to me. But I think without seeing it for what it really is instead of what I wish it was, I can't do it properly. Being goal-oriented instead of perfection-oriented may help me with this. And I do want to do it as fast as possible and for it to be as smooth as it can get, the weight loss. But stopping to think about those few more bites, even if it was more than that and very calorie-dense, will not help, and might even make my tendencies to binge show up. So I'm owning up to this unfortunate binge that happened yesterday, so that I can move on. I am moving on. I am working towards my goal. I am not trying again, I am still trying. What helps me is remembering that this is not a restart, this is a continuation.

So let's continue, and let's do well.

#fat ana

[foggyparadisecandy]

Foggy 2.0

Just a recap of the good things that have happened in the last two+ months since my partner split.

It's been a lot tbh ...

I've reconnected with RL friends that I have not seen since pre-COVID. I forgot how fun some of these idiots are. lol

I've made a crapton of new friends online. I love hearing people's stories and ... ngl ... damages. I feel comfort in other people's pains and struggles. It makes me understand that we all have challenges. Life goes on.

I've met a very special, interesting woman who is combination supportive and challenging - calling out my bullshit one moment and encouraging my insanity the next. Who could ask for anything better from a friend?

I lost ten pounds ... somewhat unhealthily at first because I wasn't eating ... but it's all good. I wanted to get a bit thinner so ... yeah! I'm happy about this for the most part.

I have recharged my work life for the first time in a decade. Still got some ways to go but I've set a huge goal for next year and my goal is to knock it out of the park. I want to make a shit ton of money to create some sort of trauma relief or self-help resources for hurting people. Possibly military specific resources. Not sure yet. I have time to figure it out.

I'm sorting through parental damages that have plagued me my entire life. IDK if this will ever get sorted - it's been in me for a long time but I'm going to do my best to process it in a healthy way so I can minimize the damages and recognize the symptoms of unhealthy behaviors. I've been pretty low on myself my entire life lol ... "low" is an understatement. haha. Either way ... working on it now!

I'm exercising a good amount. It's kind of boring but also ... I find it to be meditative when I get in the zone. Plus I'm seeing muscles that I haven't seen for a looooong time. lol. I'm not vain but it does help with my self-confidence to feel in a decent shape.

My home life isn't better necessarily but there is a lot more transparency and open-ness. Honestly this hasn't been on my top 10 things I've even given a shit about working on for a long time. Still isn't. There is more to life than mere existence, dear readers. It's ok to want more and be honest with yourself and your partner(s).

I've been more open with people about my pain and depression. I've made some strong connections with people who have taken my authenticity as an opportunity to express their own challenges. I think mental health is a dirty dangerous secret and I'm ok with putting it out there and giving people the courage to do the same.

I've gotten to know a lot more about myself through reading and talking with a lot of those damaged folks I've met online and in RL. lol. I am learning new things all the time - really stretching myself to grow and evolve. Hard fucking work and I have a long way to go but ... I really am enjoying it.

I feel ... stronger in all ways. More capable. More clear-headed. I have desires like I haven't for a very long time. Desires to achieve more with my life. Do more. Help more people. Make a difference.

I feel better about myself and who I am. No matter what struggles I have with self-image, it's been ... heart-warming ... to hear people tell me about kindnesses small and large that I've done for them over the years in an effort to remind me of who I am. It's ... IDK ... I guess karma is a real thing. I'm a pretty kind and nice person and I've put out a lot of love to people in need. I didn't do it for gain, but it sure is nice to hear people paying it back and giving me ego boosts here and there.

I love and I forgive. I am working on setting boundaries - I don't understand them. I know that. But also I'm talking with my therapist about figuring out a balance here. If I choose to love you, I'm going all in and loving you hard. I'm ok with being kind and supportive. I'm ok with forgiving those I love. I feel they deserve it and I think too many people haven't had enough love or forgiveness in their lives. I don't see my approach as weakness. It's strength.

I was blessed by being part of my former partner's life for as long as she allowed it. It was fucking amazing. She was so open and lovely about everything. Open to trying things. She taught me so much about myself and life. It's funny ... she always had the control ... I knew that and ... as much as it hurt me the way she exercised it (she could have done it differently fr but I forgive 100%) ... I hope she understands it and it gives her comfort - she has power and control even in the submissive role in a relationship. Good thing to keep in mind.

I was blessed that my partner was so brave and strong and showed me how someone with such a tough start to life could perservere and rise to the occasion. It inspired me tbh. It's one of the primary things that made me fall for her. Yeah ... she's got some work to do ... who doesn't? But she's got the core characteristics to succeed in life. She'll go far. I believe in her.

I was extremely fortunate that she reached out and helped ease so many of my fears over her well-being. I honestly can't thank her enough. I feel a million times better. My worry for her was crushing me. My worry that I had hurt her. My worry that she would be killed. So many small worries that she put to rest. I know how hard that was for her to do. She confirmed my belief in her character - even if she probably still doesn't see what I see. I have faith that if she keeps going, she'll get there. I believe in her. Yeah ... I repeated that. My blog so ... suck it.

I 100% Achievements on Binding of Isaac. There were 99 Achievements - I'm taking this as a win! I had started playing this right before the split and I couldn't find the motivation to start a new game so this was a good one to be immersed in ... 400+ hours to distract myself from stuff. Good times.

There's dozens of other small things, here and there.

I won't go so far as expressing gratitude for the break-up but I feel that it's woken me up to more possibilities in my life and ... yeah ... fuck it ... I guess there is some gratitude in there after all.

I'm ok with that.

#catharsis #self love #self care

[jesziele]

At first, it was just a spark, a flicker of attraction that grew stronger with each passing day. I found myself thinking about you constantly, daydreaming about the moments we had shared and the moments that were yet to come. And then, before I knew it, I had fallen deep, completely and irrevocable with you. I love the way you make me feel, I feel safe again and comfortable when I’m with a person who truly knows how to love me. I love your quirks, your flaws, and your imperfections, because they are a part of what makes you who you are.

I love the way we fit together, how our lives have intertwined so seamlessly, as if we were meant to be together. I love the way we challenge each other, how we push each other to be our best selves. And I love the way we support each other, how we are always there for each other, no matter what. Falling deep in love with you have been the most beautiful, transformative experience of my life. I thought back then that I’ll stop finding love not until I found someone who knows to love me and deserves me. You have shown me what it means to love unconditionally, to be vulnerable and open-hearted, and to embrace again all of the ups and downs that come with a deep meaningful relationship.

One of the biggest delights of my life is loving you. I always have a smile on my face when I get up for the reason that I know you are there for me. I am appreciative of the ways you enhance my life and feel fortunate to have your affection and company. I admire so many different aspects of you. I keep falling in love with you because of your tender heart, your playful side, your quick wit, and your unaltered support, to name just a few of your qualities. I consider myself fortunate to have discovered someone who, in addition to understanding me, completes me in every way. I am content and pleased when I am with you. The world appears to be more optimistic, and all of my worries have been resolved.

You are my lovely, my girlfriend, and my closest companion. I've learned a lot about myself as a result of falling in love with you. I've developed more empathy and comprehension. I consider myself more lucky to be able to share my experience with you, and I'm dedicated to making sure that you always feel valued and cherished. Although it requires work, showing you the love you deserve is worthwhile. I always make sure to listen to your rants, support you in achieving your aspirations, and show you little acts of love and appreciation throughout the day. Giving you a shoulder and someone to cry on when you’re feeling down, or simply telling you how much you mean to me, I strive to make you feel loved and cherished in every moment.

Seeing you cry because of something I did is a pain I never want to experience again. I know that I have hurt you, and for that I am deeply sorry. Seeing you happy and fulfilled brings me so much joy. When you laugh or smile, my heart swells with happiness. The best compensation I could receive is knowing that I am making a difference in your life. I appreciate how you showed me your love in all of your actions. I value your affection, yes, but I also value the work you put into our relationship. You make an effort to make me feel unique, whether it be by sending me a prose every week, creating beautiful pages, or even by teasing me.

I appreciate your commitment to this relationship and hope to have many more months with you. As the days went by, you adapted to telling me how you felt and what was on your mind. Despite how I might feel, you have become more honest and upfront with me. What really makes you stand out are your comprehension and empathy. Even when we disagree, you have a remarkable capacity for seeing things from other angles, and your willingness to make concessions and look for common ground has been very helpful in overcoming many obstacles. I commit to doing everything in my power to show you the love you deserve as we move forward on our adventure together. I'm excited to share life's struggles with you, grow and fall with you, and celebrate for many more weeks or maybe years to come. Together, let's create a future brimming with love, joy, and laughter.

Happy 1st, my lovey, my girlfriend, my baby and any endearments to speak. You deserve to wake up every morning with a smile on your face and a lightness in your heart. I hope you find this effort of how much you deserve to be loved, appreciated, and cherished, not just by others, but by yourself. I love you, baby. And so, I vow to love you with all I can give, to cherish you every day, and to never take for granted the amazing person you are. Because falling deep in love with you was just the beginning, and I know that our love will only continue to grow stronger with each passing day.

[itsalreadyinuse]

I always get kinda sad on my birthday no matter how well I've been feeling before it. It's weird.

That's annoying because I was feeling pretty great.

So list of reasons to be grateful and proud of myself for achieving this year:

I love my major and I'm doing well in college;

I'm far enough on my course to be thinking about the theme of my monography;

I'm doing physical exercises look at that (my abs are getting so great ÙuÚ);

I used to be afraid I wouldn't be able to take care of myself if I lived alone, but living far from my parents during this last month I've realized that I'm actually a pretty functional adult, I should stop underestimating myself;

Oh! Now that we're all back on campus I'm having an actual social life talking with actual people! I'm so rusty and out of practice when it comes to having conversations, so it's still very energy consuming, but I'm actually really glad. Since by the time I was getting better from the darkest bits of my depression the pandemic happened, I've lost a lot of conexions and older friendships over the years. I was under the impression that I would never be able to build conexions again, but I'm starting to have hope that that's not the case. That's something that takes a enormous weight off of my shoulders;

I'm very close to getting a well paid internship, and as soon as I have financial freedom, I'll be able to discover even more things about myself that I haven't had the chance to discover yet.

It's a small list. There aren't a lot of items, but each one of them is so important to me. It's hard to remember that there was a time when I wasn't able to imagine a future, when I didn't wish for a future.

It's also funny to think that if you told my 15yo self that I would be where I am at this point in my life, the little overachiever would probably be very disappointed.

However, my 20yo me wouldn't believe that I did it. I've found a way out. I've found joy in life again and it's not perfect, or constant, or easy, but I'm actually here. I am fine and alive, so much more alive than I've ever thought it was possible at that point. I have dreams, and aspirations, and plans, and the courage to ask for help when I need it.

To my 20yo self, I see you, I understand the pain you're going through, I'm always going to love you and I'll try my best to give you the future you didn't think you could have. It's not your fault. Sometimes shit just happens and brains don't work like they're supposed to. I'm trying to be happy for us both, baby, and I hope to get better at being content with myself.

This was a nice exercise of seeing how far I've managed to come. I'm pretty content with my pace, and even if sometimes I get frustrated and wish for things to come faster, that's so much further than I was a while ago.

Maybe in a year I'll see this post again and see what changed and be happy for myself.

Because I deserve happiness, I do. I know I do.

So, happy 25 to myself!!! :D

That's a full quarter of a century!! May the next quarter be better!! I'm working on it!!

Now birthday selfie, since thinking about my realizations really gave me a self-esteem boost, who'd say?? (My therapist, actually)

#personal #tw depression

[wonderofasunrise]

32 or 61 for Kerry/Susan please ❤️

#61 - "I'm pregnant."

Okay, I'm letting the cat out of the bag now - I have a WIP, a passion project of some sorts in the form of a multi-chapter Kerry/Susan AU fic. I've been working on it on and off for months, writing whatever I can come up with out of order (a process which involves at least three different Google Docs files for notes etc and not-so-subtly tweeting about it every now and then), and I can't promise anything because I just...well, suck at planning things ahead especially when it comes to writing anything lengthy (unless it's an academic essay *laughs nervously*). Fingers crossed I will be able to post the whole thing someday - if and *only* if I manage to finish it in advance, because I love the idea so much I don't want to take the risk of posting it early and writing as I go along...only to (God forbid) abandon it. I don't want to give away too much, but hopefully you'll get the gist from this excerpt of one of the chapters I've managed to finish:

“Susan?” a voice calls me almost immediately as I step out of the cubicle. I look up in a swift move to find the source of the voice, and sure enough my head starts to spin again. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see none other than Kerry Weaver—her bright red hair kind of gives it away—with a very concerned look on her face, which I try my best to ignore.

Slowly, I make my way to the nearest basin, and just as my hand is about to turn the faucet another wave of nausea surges over me. Please do not vomit, please do not vomit, it was bad enough to storm out of a fucking trauma but to vomit in front of Kerry of all people…?

“Are you okay?” she asks just as my nausea passes, the tone of her voice as concerned as her expression. I know that at this point even saying a single syllable will bring back the nausea, so I simply nod.

“Are you sure? I was in the trauma room, and I was just as surprised as everyone else to see you storm out like that…”

“Yes, Kerry, I’m fine,” I suddenly snap, though immediately I can feel guilt lingering over me as I know Kerry is genuinely worried. Say what you want about her, the woman does care about the wellbeing of her colleagues (or employees? Whatever.). I glance at her while putting some water into my mouth, somewhat grateful that I don’t see any sign of her being offended. If anything, her expression grows even more worried, and I know that at this point there is nothing I say that can ease her concern.

“Okay,” Kerry says, seemingly giving in. “It’s just—you normally have the best composure of the lot, and I never expected a trauma to affect you that badly, that’s all…Susan? Can you walk?”

Her concerned tone returns as soon as she catches the sight of me dropping to my knees, no doubt thanks to me turning around too quickly after I finished my business in the sink. Instinctively one of my hands travels to my stomach, and I pray to all that’s holy that the gesture somehow goes unnoticed by Kerry, who is now kneeling next to me, her crutch abandoned, with one of her hands on my back.

“Can you stand up?” she asks in a tone that I would never expect Kerry Weaver to use when speaking to an adult. I nod, though I myself am not quite sure. I try anyway, with one of my hands still firmly on my stomach and the other holding onto Kerry for support. Once I get back on my feet, I let go of the other woman and I take a deep breath, relieved when no more sign of nausea kicks in. I try to make my way out of the ladies’ room, and I can feel Kerry’s eyes firmly on my back as I turn around—more carefully this time.

“You know, if you’re not feeling good, you can go home and rest,” she says. “I-I would hate to see you not in your prime at work, and more importantly it’s clear you really can do with a rest. We have a busy day ahead, and if you’re...feeling like you’re not up for it, you can go home. I can cover for you.”

I can tell she chose her words carefully, and she tried her best not to insinuate that I am not up for a busy day at work. Heck, she knows I’m more than capable—I’m one of her best attendings, after all, but still…who can really guess what Kerry Weaver actually means?

As for going home and resting, I can’t deny that I need it badly. I barely got any sleep last night, partly due to anxiety ahead of my appointment with Coburn this morning, and who can guarantee that I won’t storm out of another trauma? Still, part of me is trying to fight the urge to go home, because work is the best form of distraction I can think of and at home I know I will drive myself mad over everything, with no one to talk to and all.

“I’m pregnant,” I suddenly blurt out, the words coming out of my mouth far more quickly than I could comprehend. My eyes grow wide at the realization of what I just said, to Kerry of all people, and I try to avoid her eyes so much it’s ridiculous.

Unexpectedly enough, Kerry steps closer toward me, and she puts a hand on my shoulder. Just as unexpectedly, I find the gesture quite comforting, and God knows I have been deprived of comfort for far too long the last couple of weeks. It doesn’t feel as awkward as one would expect, coming from Kerry Weaver, and I sigh as I let her hand give my shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“How-how far along are you?” she asks in a tone that can barely conceal her surprise.

“Four weeks. I-I saw Coburn this morning,” I say with a shrug. She nods, and then lets go of my shoulder so that she can focus on looking me in the eye, which always makes for an interesting sight thanks to our significant height difference.

“In that case,” she states matter-of-factly, “You should go home and rest. I don’t want you to feel worse than you already do. Go home, get something to eat, and rest. I’ll cover for you for the rest of the shift.”

Now that sounds more like the Kerry Weaver that everyone knows and loves (though that part is still up for debate, I reckon). At this point I know there is no use fighting with her, so I nod and turn back to the door, silently hoping that somehow nobody will pay any attention.

“Kerry?” I mutter, suddenly remembering something important before we part ways. Letting her know of my pregnancy is bad enough (though it’s by no means a fault on her part); having everyone else know before I’m ready will be a disaster. I have enough on my plate at the moment, and the last thing I need is being the center of the latest ER gossip. “Um…thank you for letting me go home for the day, and I guess—well, I would really appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone. I have too much to deal with at the moment,” I say in a voice so low I will be surprised if she actually listens.

But apparently she did, because she nods and puts a hand on one of my arms and gives it a gentle squeeze—which, again, does not feel as awkward as one would expect coming from her.

“Of course,” she responds. “It’s not my call to let people know. It’s yours, and yours only. Don’t worry about it.”

And with that, I mouth a thank you before exiting the ladies’ room, trying my best to forget everything that has happened today. It’s not even noon yet, and too much has already taken place. Perhaps Kerry is right: I really can do with a rest.

#okay...i have a LOT to work on #i will get on it i swear #it pains me that i've been working on this for *months* yet achieved so very little #unless random notes on my phone and Google Docs files count as something #as always it started as 'why hasn't anyone written about it?' #which then turned into 'fuck it i'm taking matters into my own hands' #that kinda explains my career in a nutshell #anyway please wish me luck #i really want this to come to fruition #now that i have waaaay more free time i really should work on this more often #i will i will i will #writing prompts #drabble #er drabbles #er fanfiction #er #nbc er #kerry weaver #susan lewis #kerry weaver x susan lewis #kerry x susan #...sort of at this point #sapphicsandscience

[mimisempai]

I can read you like an open book

Summary:

5 times where Loki refuses to see that he has been found out by Mobius and once where he accepts it

Lokius has so much potential. How not to be tempted?

🌈 Happy Pride month ! 🌈

To celebrate, 1 day, 1 story.

Be ready for smiles, laugh, fluff, tooth rotthing fluff, positive vibes and a lot of love!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32034121

1798 words - Rating G

1.

"I'm Agent Mobius, by the way."

I don't care about your name. I'm Loki, God of Mischief, you moron!

The man with the ridiculous mustache looked suspiciously innocent.

Loki asked him in his most indifferent tone, "Are you taking me somewhere to kill me?"

The man, Mobius, answered in the quietest way possible, "No. That's where you just were. I'm taking you some place to talk."

Loki harrumphed and retorted, "I don't like to talk.

Without losing his smile, Mobius replied, "But you do like to lie, which you just did."

Seeing that Loki didn't bother to answer, he continued, a cheeky sparkle in his eye, "Because we both know you love to talk."

He had the audacity to add, emphasizing his words with his hands, "Talkie-talkie."

Loki was boiling inside, but he wouldn't allow this jerk to see his anger.

How could this fool have seen through to him? No way!

Yes he liked to talk! So what? He had a voice so he might as well use it. At least he never said stupid things.

Sure, he liked to twist the truth, but when you're the god of mischief, was that so surprising?

Anyway, nobody had discovered his biggest secret, his biggest lie, that was the most important.

He discreetly scanned the man in front of him who now seemed a little less inoffensive.

2.

They were in a room devoid of any decor, sitting face to face, separated by a table.

Loki decided to attack. He could be accused of lying, but not of not facing the truth.

He asked Mobius with a defiant look, "What do you want from me?"

Mobius inhaled, as if to give himself courage, "Well, let's start with a little cooperation."

No, that's not going to happen, buddy.

Loki was a god and a god doesn't cooperate.

He replied with a smirk, "Not my forte.

There he was again, that piercing blue-gray gaze that seemed to see much more than Loki believed. Accompanied by that smile that gauged him.

"Really?"

Mobius paused and for a moment Loki thought he knew how to stage himself as well as Loki.

The rascal continued, "Even when you're wooing someone powerful you intend to betray?"

How could he know that? Nobody knew about Thanos! Even Thor didn't know about it!

Don't show anything Loki! Don't show him he's right.

The bastard insisted, as if it were insignificant. "Come on."

Loki, took his most superior and closed look before answering.

"You don't know anything about me."

That's it, move on you moron!

"Maybe I'd like to learn."

What?

What does he mean, he'd like to learn?

No way, Loki wouldn't be fooled.

No one really wanted to know who Loki was.

Those who wanted to know him only wanted it to get something out of him.

He wouldn't be fooled by that smile and that look. Even though...

He shook his head not to let such thoughts linger

3.

Since Mobius seemed to want to know his theory so badly, Loki was more than happy to explain it to him, it was time to show off as much as he could with his jumpsuit.

He straightened his head and said in an emphatic tone, "For nearly every living thing, choice breeds shame and uncertainty and regret. There's a fork in every road, yet the wrong path is always taken."

He looked at Mobius defiantly.

So you're not such a smartass now, huh?

"Good. Yeah."

He had the nerve!

Loki was right not to believe that this man really wanted to know him, it was just to taunt him and put him in his place.

Mobius continued, "You said nearly every living thing ," he paused, and once again his eyes seemed to see further than Loki wanted to show.

He added, cheekily, "so I'm guessing you don't fall into that category?

Show nothing. Show nothing.

You didn't expect anything, Loki, so you're not disappointed.

Loki began to snicker. Sarcasm, one of his favorite weapons.

"The Time-Keepers have built quite the circus, and I see the clowns are playing their parts to perfection."

In case you didn't understand, I'm talking about you, the clown, that's you, buffoon!

Mobius started to laugh. A totally genuine laugh.

"Big metaphor guy. I love it."

Genuine but derisive of course.

The rascal continued, "Makes you sound super smart."

Loki couldn't let it go and retorted, "I am smart."

"I know."

Two words, and the tone was no longer taunting.

I know.

Two words said in a firm voice, without a smile, with an intense look in his eyes.

I know.

For once Loki didn't bother to wrap his words in circumlocutions, too disturbed by the implication of those two words. He simply replied, "Okay."

4.

Loki didn't know what Mobius' goal was in showing him his failures, but if it was to piss him off, he had achieved it, yet Loki was not going to show him.

Just as he was not going to show him how his questions affected him.

"Do you enjoy hurting people?"

No.

"Making them feel small?

No .

"Making them feel afraid?"

No. Stop. Answer him Loki.

"Your games don't frighten me."

But Mobius didn't seem to want to stop.

"Making them feel little?"

Loki couldn't help but retort with more vehemence, "I know what I am."

Mobius raised an eyebrow and asked defiantly, "A murderer?"

Knowing that if he let go, he would show Mobius how much he was affected by what he said, Loki shot back, "A liberator."

And the man had the audacity to reply, "Of eyeballs, maybe."

His words were accompanied on the screen by a video that showed Loki cutting out a man's eye.

Mobius continued, "Look at that smile. You are enjoying that. Did you enjoy hurting them?"

No. No. No. It was the mind stone. It wasn't me.

No! Shut up Loki! No one can know, not even him, get a grip!

Chin up, straight face, sardonic smile.

"I don't have to play this game. I'm a god."

Yes, that's what I am, a god. You won't take that away from me.

"Of what, again? Mischief, right?"

So what? I may not summon thunder, but I am powerful. In my own way.

The man then added, "Yeah. I don't see anything very mischievous about this."

Of course, since it wasn't him. But how could he tell anyone that he, the great Loki, had been under the influence of someone, that he had been manipulated by a stone.

He replied in a bitter voice, "No, I don't suppose you do."

Mobius sighed. He seemed almost disappointed.

Loki wondered why he felt a tightness in his chest. The same one he felt every time he knew he had disappointed his mother. The difference was that he had only known Mobius for a few hours.

5.

Loki was devastated.

His mother had died. She had died by his hand. At least because of him.

Mobius had continued to confront him with his failings.

Sitting on the floor, Loki no longer had the strength to stand up or fight back.

"You weren't born to be king, Loki."

Of course I was.

Even he was beginning not to believe it anymore.

"You were born to cause pain and suffering and death. That's how it is, that's how it was, that's how it will be. All so that others can achieve their best versions of themselves."

He looked up at the screen where the Avengers were displayed one by one. The instruments of his defeat. The defeat he felt burning right now.

He asked with a broken voice, "What is this place?"

Mobius didn't answer, just walked over and held out his hand and said, "Come on."

No more taunting in his voice, no more mockery, just compassion? Loki looked up to see if what he heard in the voice was showing on the other man's face.

He read the same compassion.

Weakened by what he had just discovered about his mother, Loki found himself wanting to grasp that hand, to believe what he read in those eyes.  For a moment, he listened to himself, grabbed the hand and stood up.

But he was Loki, God of Mischief, so he snatched the small device from Mobius' pocket

+1

"Loki?"

Mobius had just come back into the room, Loki was distraught.

Sitting on the floor with his hands in his head, he raised it at the sound of his tormentor's voice.

The man approached him gently and said, "Nowhere left to run."

I don't want to go. I don't want to go anymore. I don't want to be that Loki anymore. I don't want to go back.

"I can't go back, can I? Back to my timeline."

Can I be me here? Really me? What I want to be.

For the first time since he knew himself, Loki felt a compulsion to tell the truth.

Looking Mobius in the eye, he said softly, "I don't enjoy hurting people."

He paused, "I..." he exhaled sharply and repeated again, "I don't enjoy it."

For the first time, he really wanted to convince someone that he wasn't the monster everyone thought he was. Now that he had started talking, it was like he couldn't stop. He continued, "I do it because I have to, because I've had to."

Mobius looked at him with those caring eyes he had had earlier and another feeling he couldn't read.

He replied softly, "Okay, explain that to me."

Loki swallowed, this was the moment of truth.

"Because it's part of the illusion. It's the cruel, elaborate trick conjured by the weak to inspire fear."

Mobius simply nodded, before adding in a tone filled with understanding, "A desperate play for control. You do know yourself."

Loki bit his lip and added in a breath, "A villain."

He exhaled again.

"That's not how I see it.

Once again Mobius held out his hand to help him up, and this time Loki didn't hesitate to take it. Once on his feet, he didn't want to let go of that hand, the only non-violent human contact he'd had in years. He didn't even realize that he was tightening his fingers on Mobius'.

He asked the question that had been burning in his mind, "If I'm not the villain, then what am I?"

They still hadn't let go of each other's hands and now Mobius' thumb was gently stroking the back of Loki's hand.

Mobius tilted his head a little, seeking Loki's gaze even more.

He said with that smile that Loki was beginning to appreciate, "I don't know, but we could search together, if you want."

Loki nodded slowly and answered with a slight smile. The first sincere smile devoid of any trickery.

The real Loki smile. _________

Not beta'd I hope you enjoyed it 🥰

#lokius #loki #loki spoilers #mobius m mobius #loki x mobius #developing relationship #spoilers episode 01 #loki laufeyson #marvel mcu

[lassie-bird]

My Girl

Summary: Dean’s life has changed drastically in the past couple of months and now he’s being arrested for something he didn’t do

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Warnings: 18+. Language. ANGST. Fluff. Violence. Anxiety. Gory details: A LOT of Blood (if you’re queasy, stay away). Mentions of stab and gunshot wounds (goes into detail of gunshot wounds aftermath). Two Character Deaths and 1 minor character death (mentioned). If there is anything I’ve forgotten then please let me know :)

Words: 2.4K

A/N: This is my very late (I’m sorry) entry for @jensengirl83 ‘s Dean’s Classic Rock Challenge! Yes, babes, look at you achieving that milestone, I’m so happy for you, you deserve it. My song was “Renegade by Styx”. This was supposed to be less sad but what can I say, the character leads you places. I did enjoy writing this though, I almost cried while writing some parts which is shocking for people who know me since I’m not an emotional person. So I apologise for what you’re about to read. But please enjoy and let me know your thoughts :)

Credit: Special thanks to @huffle-pissed for being the most amazing Beta someone could ask for. I also want to thank @wonder-cole for helping me out with some parts. Go and show these all together amazing people some love.

Enjoy!

Masterlist

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“Son of a bitch” Dean panted as he stopped for a second to catch his breath. Finding a shed to hide behind before he would continue. Continue to be hunted down like an animal the cops seemed to believe he was. He had been caught red-handed, in your blood when the cops knocked down the door. It felt like thousands of them had come to arrest him, running up the stairs of his house to catch him. The murderer who had just brutally killed his fiance. Everything had gone to shit. He had endured a month of loss and pain and now he was being chased for a murder he didn’t commit. A murder that had ended in your death. The love of his life. The only thing he was living for, You.

2 months ago

You and Dean were out for a walk, one of many walks you’ve taken throughout your relationship. For some reason, this walk felt different. As you walked around the lake in your hometown hand in hand, late in the evening. Dean suddenly stopped and turned to you.

He took a deep breath as he held both your hands in his “I’ve never been more terrified in my life than I am now,” He confessed.

You were confused, You had no clue what was going on. “Why are you terrified?” You asked hesitantly.

Dean lowered himself to the ground as he got down on one knee. Your eyes widened when you realized what he was doing. “Y/N, I know that when we first met, things were a bit rocky. Hunting got in the way, yet you still stayed with me even though our fights made it hard. You’ve been my rock, ever since Sam.” He stopped talking as he swallowed thickly, his next words weren’t easy for him to say. You hated seeing him like this, you knew this was hard for him.

You put your hand on his cheek “It’s okay Dean, you don’t have to say anymore!” You wanted to make things easier for him.

He shook his head “No, I need to say this. I have to tell you this.” He looked up at you fighting back the tears. “Ever since Sam died, you’ve been my rock. You took me in when I had nowhere else to go. Even though things weren’t perfect and I was practically a wreck the whole time, you stuck by me. You held me through all my nightmares, comforting me, making me feel safe.” He stopped talking for a second to clear his throat.

“You taught me how to make pie just so that we could bake together. Every time I've needed parts for Baby you’d be out the door in seconds just to help me out. S...Sitting with me while I quietly work on Baby. Uh… I know that doing all of this wasn’t exactly your kind of fun but as long as I’ve known you, you have never complained about anything. You stand up for yourself, you are strong and caring. You are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, And… and after all of this, you have stuck by me, through all the bad, ehm… through the times I’d ignore your calls for days straight, even for times I’ve pissed you off by going hunting instead of spending time with you.” He was stuttering slightly. Dean wasn’t much for speeches and if you could guess you knew that he was improvising here which would also make things harder but you couldn’t care less. This was the man you loved, you wouldn’t have him any other way.

“Ehm… All those times are things I’m not proud of doing, we’ve had a rocky couple of years with all kinds of fights, which… uh… that you’ve mostly won… You welcomed me into your heart when I was at my lowest, when I’d given up. You have continued to pick me up off of the ground for all this time. I know I don’t deserve you, I’ve done bad, a lot of bad in my life, I’m no saint. But… that doesn’t matter to you and I don’t really know how to explain to you how much I love you. You are my whole heart, I’ve never really had a home but I know that wherever you are is where my home is. You are everything I could have ever wished for. Y/N, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” He finished taking a deep breath as he looked at you for your response.

Tears had fallen down your cheeks. This man was the love of your life, he had just asked you to marry him. “Of course I will Dean,” You cried out as you reached down to him to get him off the wet ground, it had been raining earlier, it hadn’t dried yet and you didn’t want him to get all dirty and muddy.

He stood up as you cupped his face in your hands kissing him deeply. Every time you had kissed this man, time had stood still, it was only you and him in this world. You had never felt safer in your life than when you were in his arms. Knowing that he felt safe with you was everything you’ve ever wanted to hear.

“I love you so much Dean,” You cried as tears were running down your cheeks. This man right here had just delivered the most beautiful speech you had ever heard.

“I love you Y/N, You are my girl, I will always protect you,” He spoke as he continued to smother you with beautiful small kisses all over your face, holding you in his arms. The kisses making you giggle.

Present day

As he sat down behind this shed hiding from the police that was chasing him through all of Lawrence. He was brought back to that day, the day he said he’d always protect you. He had broken that promise. For a month now he had been sitting in a jail cell because he wasn’t fast enough, he couldn’t get to you quick enough. You had died and that was all his fault. He would have to live with the fact that after everything he had done, he had let you down. You, Y/N, the love of his life, his soulmate. He had wished every second of every day while sitting in that cell that it should have been him that had died, that had been brutally murdered in the house you shared together. In the bed, you shared together. How he wished he had been covered in his blood tucked in between the sheets the same way you had been.

1 month ago

It was like any other night. Dean had been working late. After Sam had died for what seemed like the millionth time. The only thing that was different this time was that this time Sam wasn’t going to come back. The hunter life for Dean was over. It had been 2 years and one month since he had met Y/N, 9 months since Sam had died and he had officially gone to Y/N and moved in, having nowhere else to go, And 1 month exactly since you had made him the happiest man on earth by agreeing to marry him.

After he had moved in with you, he started looking for a job that could actually pay the bills. That’s a lie, for the first couple of months he was basically spending all his time drinking his troubles away. He’d get defensive if you ever tried to help him. That didn’t stop you though, you continued to care for him, to love him, to comfort him. He knew how lucky he was to have you.

Things got better, slightly, he wasn’t completely healed and you both knew that it was going to take time. You didn’t rush him, you were a family, and whatever might come your way, you would take care of it together.

Dean was working as a freelanced mechanic, it was all he could find on short notice. This worked and the pay differed depending on the damage done to the car and the amount of time it would take to fix it. He usually worked on the cars from his garage but today was different, for some reason the client couldn’t get the car to Dean’s garage so Dean had to go there to fix it.

This is why he was late coming home, it was severe damage done to the engine and it took a while to fix it. Luckily, he was done with that car and could now take a day off and spend some time with you, his fiance. The time was 10 pm, it wasn’t that late and he was hoping that you’d still be awake.

As he drove up to the house you shared, he noticed that all lights were off but one small lamp that sat in the window of your bedroom. He didn’t think much about it, figured you had gone to bed early. He went up the steps of your house, walking through the door which was unlocked, usually you’d lock the house always, even if you both were home you’d have the doors locked. This was something Dean had made sure of after he had moved in, wanted to make sure you were safe. The fact that the door was unlocked struck Dean as strange but he decided to ignore that, exhausted and wanting to go to bed to cuddle you. As he walked through the darkness, climbing up the stairs trying not to make too much noise in case you were sleeping. He stepped into your room, finding you underneath the sheets asleep, or what he thought was asleep. As he quickly got out of his pants, climbing into bed to cuddle up to you. As his arms wrap around you he notices a sticky substance clinging to him. You feel completely stiff in his embrace. As fear quickly goes to his mind he lifts the covers to see you covered in blood. Stab wounds around your stomach. You, his fiance, had been stabbed to death.

He held onto for dear life. Tears pricking in his eyes. The feeling of loss is clear as day on his face. His sadness is being replaced by anger at the fact that he couldn’t protect you. He cried heavily holding onto your body, your face cupped in his hands as he just stared at the lifeless face of his love. Everything around him was gone, the only thing on his mind was your body in his arms. He hadn’t even noticed the front door being kicked open as thousands of cops ran up the stairs to find him, his clothes, his whole body wet and sticky from the blood of his soulmate.

Present day

That night was a memory he could never get rid of. He was the main suspect, the only suspect. He understood why. He was found covered in your blood. At first, he was done, he felt worthless, hopeless without you in his life. He had accepted his fate but after weeks of being stuck in a period of depression with only the image of your lifeless face stuck in his mind. It had hit him, the time he had found you, your body hadn’t even gone cold, if only he had been home earlier then he could have stopped this. He knew one thing for sure, you weren’t killed by anything supernatural. Someone had actually entered his house and brutally stabbed his fiance, his girl. He knew what he had to do, anger taking the better of him as he escaped from the jail he was in for the time being and running to find the person who had done this. This son of a bitch was going to pay.

That’s where he was right now, a gun in hand that he had taken of a guard, a very dumb guard who was supposed to make sure that no one escaped. It wasn’t hard to escape, he’s escaped from harder things in his past. The only problem was that anger was flooding his judgment. He was known as a murderer in the eyes of the authorities. He figured he was in the clear as he stepped out from around the shed, Only to find two police walking towards where he was currently standing.

He wasn’t thinking clearly, turning the gun on them to shoot. The sound of a gunshot pierced his ears, masking all sounds around him. He was confused since he hadn’t pulled the trigger. One cop had been quicker, shooting Dean in the stomach. His body hitting the pavement was the cause of his shock. The realization had hit him, he had been shot. The burning aggravating sensation in the stomach area, growing outward from where the bullet had traveled. This feeling was all too recognizable to Dean. His hands flew to where the bullet had hit his body. Blood had traveled to his mouth as he began choking and spitting out his own blood. Panic in his eyes and mind as he knew what was going to happen. He was dying, there was no coming back from this, he knew what dying felt like but he had never known what staying dead had felt like. He hadn’t finished his mission, The killer was out there still, the murderer who had ​​viciously stabbed his soulmate to death, piercing her body 16 times, what kind of sick fuck would do that. He had let you down yet again, not saving you and not finding you in time. He was angry with himself as he continued to choke on his blood. The gooey substance leaking out from his stomach.

A light blinding his senses had caught his attention.

That's when he noticed it. A figure reaching out for him, telling him that everything was okay. A figure that was you. The anger and panic he had once felt were replaced by calm, he no longer had any more regrets. Everything that had happened, was not a thought in his mind. All he felt was calm and the need to be by you. He had lost you and now here you were, right in front of him. He had you again, he had finally found you. The love of his life, his true love, his girl.

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[highstwildflower]

Highly

A/n: this is really long I’m sorry!😂

Words: 2000 ca.

The cloud that erupted from your lips vanished into thin air, reminding you of the man who used to fan the smoke away from his reach. Now the spot next to you was empty, no one was complaining and no one was bugging you about being unhealthy. The thick joint was pressed between your lips once again, sucking the poison into your lungs. The relaxing plant infected your system and everything slowed down. The stars swimming above you dripped into the moon that was filled to the brim. You finished the joint, leaning back with a heart that was aching. Moving around you found the position that allowed your heavy heart some rest, your phone was out of reach and you were too lazy to retrieve it. You wanted to shoot him a text tho, telling him all the words he never got to hear.

Instead you lay there, images burning behind closed eyes. Images of his green forrest eyes that disappeared when his laughter erupted, how you would kill to hear that laugh again. The feeling of  the vibration through his chest as he sung you a new tune. How he used to look at you, eyes searching for inspiration and the look in them the second he found it. Being his muse had been the greatest achievement of your life. Your favorite memory was from the frosty night in December only five moths prior, ditching a party the two of you had ventured off into the night. He had held you close when you arrived at your shared home, bodies moving in sync, the rhythm you fell into in the bed had been steady and slow. Intimate love making till dawn. Your bodies not craving sleep, instead you had moved to the patio. His large body had been pressed firmly against the lounge couch and he had pulled you against him. Limbs draped over each other's and low voices filling the air with words of adoration. The conversation following the flow of the wind, the chilly morning offering you an excuse to snuggle closer to your love. He had happily accepted the closeness, and soon series of laughter had erupted into the slow morning. Just the two of you, bodies pressed together and love flowing freely.

You mind had turned off to the memory of him, and next thing you knew you woke up in your lonely bed. It had never felt so big when Michael had been taking up half of it. The empty room taunting you and the long halls hunting the memories that was made here away. As days fell into night and night turned into days your speckle off hope had vanished. The hope of feeling his body once more, his lips on yours and his voice rumbling against your skins. Instead you tugged away your emotions everyday walking through life as someone else, and only allowing the emotions to take over at night. Most nights your mind raced to the loving memories, but some nights it was the burning memories of pain the pressed into your head.

Dating Michael had been fun and easy, when he asked you to build a home with him you had been ecstatic. Slowly reality dawned on you, the rockstar lifestyle being far away from the life you wished to led. His drinking turned into situations that was hurtful, a large number of girls pressing on. Wishing to enter your relationship, you begging him to change every night when he would stumble through the door.

The last time you saw him stung in the back of your mind. Just mere hours after you had told him that he had to stop with the excessive amount of alcohol and he has kissed you with a promise of doing better. You were fuming when you heard him fumbling with the front door, the creaking of the door setting you completely off. With steam clouding your mind you had entered the entrance and he had shot you a short smile. As he came close the words that left his mouth dragged your breath away, leaving your body defenseless "I though you were out with us? Who was the girl I kissed than?" He carelessly moved through your house towards the bedroom. Tears drawing pathways down your cheeks and hiccups threatening to spill passed your lips. You stayed up all night, waiting for him to sober up. Every minute of the night was spent considering the conversation of tomorrow. When he was clear in his head, he yelled out for you, his words bouncing of the walls. Your fragile body towering over him, and your voice anything but fragile. He was shunned from the house, leaving in a hurry as you yelled out your pain. Months passed where you awaited his next move, silently hoping that he would beg for you to forgive him. Instead you got nothing.  His stuff was still where he left them except from his guitars. And you knew everything but his guitars was replaceable. When Calum had turned up at your door with a sorrowful painted across his face you knew he was there to pick them up. It hurt every time you glanced at the empty room having yet to entered it, dust was covering the corners and slowly tugging the room into a dull forgotten memory.

Your high ponytail was swinging from side to side as you strutted down the sidewalk. The pep in your steps were just a reminded to yourself that you had the power to move on. When you spotted him at your favorite coffee shop, your steps came to a halt. His eyes meet yours long before yours meet his. He saw you and froze. Your smile telling him that you were doing good but your eyes spilling your secret. Awkwardly you walked over to him "hi stranger" your voice was a pitch higher than usual and you mentally scolded yourself for the preppy outburst. His voice was darker than you remembered but the impact of his words stronger than you expected "Hi. How are you?" The concentration on your face told him that you were trying your best to stay cool "I'm good , yeah very good. What about you?" The forced smile made his heart ache and his guards grow weaker. "Im glad you are doing good y/n. Im getting through day by day. 4 months sober yesterday" His voice grew with pride as he told you about his sobriety, and his smile grew even larger as he saw the proud look on your face. Without thinking twice you leaped into his arms, hugging him tightly against yourself "Im so proud of you Micky." Your cheeks grew red as you realized that this wasn't what was normal for you to do anymore. The break up meant that you had to sacrifice being close to him and just watch his life from afar. You knew he was sober, his instagram had told you so. But to hear the words leave his mouth made you ache with pride. When he felt you draw back he pulled you into himself again, not ready to let you slide through his fingers once more. Your smell was filling his nostrils and he wanted to keep you wrapped in his arms forever. When he let go of your body, you stumbled back and took him in. He looked better than ever, more fit and more alive. The silence laid as a blanket making the air hot and thick and just as you were about to say your byes he spoke up "Do you wanna catch up some day? maybe drink a cup of coffee?" you smiled shyly at him, and the fact that he had cheated on you was forgotten, "Yeah I would like that." Just like that you had a date with him, your body felt like yours for the first time in months and the pep in your step were no longer forced.

The knock at your door alerted you that he had arrived. You opened the door and smiled at him a laugh followed shortly behind "Quite weird having you knocking on your own door" he smiled back at you before he spoke "Thats ok, you look absolutely beautiful love" he handed you the flowers in his hand and you felt oddly embarrassed, such gestures never fell naturally to Michael. More a man of words he would praise you, shower you in physical affection but stray away from gifts. The ride in his car was longer than you remembered it, the small drops of sweat that was collecting at Michaels hairline let you know that you weren't alone with the crippling feeling of anxiety that started to form the second you woke up. His hands were both clutched to the steering wheel and as he turned into the coffee shop your stomach turned with anticipation. "I was thinking we could do to go? And then go to our spot?" You smiled at his idea, that he remembered how much you enjoined your spot.

The car came to a halt at the empty parking spot. Michael was quick to climb out of the car and open your door for you. Slowly you made your way towards the spot. Surrounded by nature you felt your breath become easier. The large stones that leaned against each other offered a place to take a seat. He came prepared with a blanket and a packed picking. Like so many times before you took place next to each other, the still warm air clinging to both your bodies as the sun continued it's decent. The ocean reached the stones and splashes were sent into the sky. His legs rested and made contact with the firmness of your other thigh. Slow conversation filled the space between you and drew you closer. Coffee was sipped and sandwiches shared. The sun came into contact with the ocean and Michael dived into the cruel conversation that was awaiting you. His body turned to yours "I'm sorry" his words were low but you heard him, your eyes meet and you signaled for him to go on. He took deep breaths of fresh air, worried that his fragile words wouldn't be enough "I'm sorry for everything I put you through. I've realized that I was so far out of line. All my decisions fell back onto you. And I'm awfully sorry about kissing another woman. You are truly the only one for me. I understand if you aren't interested in being with me ever again, but I've changed y/n. I'm still working on myself, but you are my motivation every single day and I want to make it up to you." You mind was clouded by his words, the mentioning of his infidelity was like salt in wounds but you wanted to give him a chance. "Yeah you sucked" you tried to lighten the mood but you both knew that, that was a light way to put it. You continued while gripping his hand " I want to be with you Mickey. But it is definitely going to be difficult for me to trust you" you smiled a careful smile at him and he moved even closer, desperate to feel you. His hand moved to your face as he silently asked for your permission to press his lips against yours. You nodded your head, eager to feel the movement. The world stood still, birds chirping became louder and the intensity of the small gesture made you dizzy. Michael was right there with you, you soft lips sending him into a feeling of ecstasy.

Silent promise between lovers who had been torn apart filled the now colder air. Sun kissing the ocean and dancing in warm colors. Pulling one another closer, and thinking of each other highly.

#5sos #fanfiction #5sos calm #5sos fandom #5sosfic #ashton irwin #calum hood #fiction #luke hemmings #5sos fanfic #5sos michael #michael clifford #Michael rec #imagines 5sos #imagines #oneshot #5sos preferences #preference #writing #5sos fluff #5sos x y/n #y/n #5sos blurbs #5sos angst #angst #please read this #I’ve spent forever writing this