#Get rid of your sleep disorder

[keplercryptids]

common myths about migraines (AKA if you get headaches regularly, please seek treatment for migraines)

"i don't have migraines because while i get them several times a week, it's only when i am hungry or dehydrated."

those are probably migraines. thirst, hunger, sleep disturbances, or any disruption to routine are common migraine triggers.

"my headaches are specifically barometric related, i get them when the weather/altitude changes."

those are probably migraines. barometric pressure is a common migraine trigger.

"i get headaches all the time but ibuprofen gets rid of them so they can't be migraines."

that's not true. ibuprofen works great at relieving migraine pain for many people.

"my consistent headaches are tension headaches. i feel them originate in my neck/shoulders."

those are probably migraines. muscle tension is a common migraine trigger.

if you are regularly getting headaches (once a week or more), you are likely getting migraines. in fact, a good rule of thumb if you're consistently getting headaches is to treat them as migraines until you can rule out migraines. that's how common "chronic headache = migraine" actually is.

migraines are a neurological disorder wherein pain is one symptom. pain is often the MAIN symptom, and the most noticeable symptom, which can make diagnosis tricky. other symptoms of migraine include:

fatigue

nausea/vomiting

digestive issues

visual disturbances (auras)

sensitivity to light and/or sound

mood changes

brain fog/cognitive changes

ringing in the ears

dizziness/vertigo

numbness/weakness on one side of the body

this list is NOT complete, but is a starting point. i really like the comparison to a hangover. if you generally feel hungover when you get a headache (without having consumed alcohol), that's a classic migraine presentation.

so many people suffer from migraine and don't even know it, so they aren't able to advocate for themselves to get treatment. there are great new migraine treatments on the market! if you're able, please seek treatment for your migraines. a better quality of life is possible.

[lightsoutletsgo]

anxiety gremlin — op.81

pairing: oscar piastri x anxious!reader

word count: 3.5k

warnings: mentions of anxiety and generalised anxiety disorder, description of physical symptoms including; nausea, headaches, sweaty hands, stomach pains, brain fog, mental struggles, mentions of panic attacks but reader doesn’t experience one, mentions of food and making food related decisions. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!  hello loves! this one is very personal to me and it was a pretty selfish write tbh... I wasn't sure if I should post it but I decided to do it in the hopes that it brings people some comfort. Oscar's dialogue at the end is a message that I, as the author, want to remind you all. you've got this, even if it doesn't feel like it! happy reading love mimi

Sometimes, it felt as though the world was out to get you. You faced the world and your flight, fight or freeze instincts kicked in. When you woke up, it seemed like it was going to be one of those days. That unexplainable feeling of nausea turning your stomach and an unexplainable headache pulled at the back of your head. Your jaw tensed as the nausea hit you in another wave and you forced yourself to roll over and close your eyes. Maybe if you could get back to sleep you’d wake up feeling better. Your mind however, had other ideas. Instead, deciding to send you down the spiral of impending doom - a lovely gift first thing in the morning. Thoughts whizzed through your head; Why did you feel so nauseous? Why did your head hurt? Had you forgotten something? What were your plans for the day and was that why this horrible feeling was creeping up? You sat up, accepting that you wouldn’t be falling back asleep and decided to get ready for the day. Perhaps a shower would help? The warm water was soothing as it rushed over you and whether it was the heat or the steam or the fact you were doing something to distract yourself, for a moment you felt a little better. Exiting the shower you decided that while the nausea had subsided, it would be a good time to start hydrating and maybe think about eating something. Your phone rang and dragged you from your internal rambling, “Hi baby!” You smiled, despite the fact that your boyfriend couldn’t see you, “Good morning angel,” You could hear Oscar’s dopey lovesick grin through the phone, “how did you sleep?” You set him down on loudspeaker as you got dressed, “I slept okay! How about you?” “I would have slept better if you didn’t keep stealing the blankets…” You gasped, “I do not!” Oscar laughed, “You absolutely do! One night I’m going to record you for evidence.” You giggled, “You do that baby.” Oscar nodded then realised you couldn’t see him, “I’m just calling to find out what you want for breakfast? I figured I’d stop off at that little cafe that you like on my way home.” You gulped, you had no clue what you wanted or how to decide, “I’d love that, thank you handsome!” You thought frantically for a solution, “Uhh you can choose for me! I trust you!” There was a pause on the other end of the line, “Are you sure angel?” “Yup, mhm, so sure!” “O-okay…” After making Oscar promise to drive safely, you hung up. 

You realised that for a moment while talking to Oscar, you hadn’t even thought about feeling anxious but it was as if that realisation had summoned the feeling back. All of a sudden your hands felt shaky and it was hard to focus on anything but the disconcerting feeling in your chest. Sitting down on the couch you did your best to control your breathing. Sometimes you wished that it would just turn into a panic attack and be done with. Anything would be better than this on-off-on-off situation. It was like feeling a sneeze that wouldn’t leave your body. Unsatisfying and unsettling. 

The front door opening made you snap your head up and you realised that subconsciously you had been rubbing your hands on your sweatpants to try and get rid of the clammy feeling. You shook your head and smiled as Oscar walked through the door, you were just a little bit anxious, it was no big deal. 

Oscar beamed at you as he entered the living room. He noticed that you seemed distracted and almost a little shifty. Your eyes kept darting around the room and your hands were absentmindedly picking at a loose thread on the hem of your t-shirt - a habit you usually despised because it had the potential to ruin your clothes. He said nothing, just walked through the room to the kitchen and placed down the paper bags filled with breakfast. “You okay there angel?” You nodded at him but it wasn’t enough to reassure him, “Are you sure?” You nodded once more, why now of all times were you feeling sick again? You sat there grinding your teeth together and clenched your jaw, feeling too sick to open your mouth and reply. You wanted to reply, you really did! But your brain had decided that words were a step too far. “Did you do something while I was out, hmm?” Oscar joked but all it did was make you more anxious, ‘was he angry?’, ‘was he going to shout at you?’, ‘breakup with you?’, “Come on troublemaker, you can tell me!-” “Nothing! Nothing happened! Now will you please stop asking.” You snapped, immediately clapping a hand across your mouth in shock before the tears were welling up in your eyes. “Oscar I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry baby I shouldn’t have snapped… Please don’t be angry!” You rambled a million miles an hour as your hands began rubbing and grabbing the material of your sweatpants again, not even realising your breathing had turned heavy and you were sweating. Oscar stood there in shock, he had never seen you like this before, was this because of him? He slowly approached you, not sure of the issue and not sure how to resolve it. “It’s okay angel, it’s okay” He held his hand out to you but you shook your head, talking through a clenched jaw in the hopes it would help the queasy feeling in your stomach, “Hands sweaty.” Oscar nodded, “Okay then, can I sit next to you?” You nodded, he gently took a seat next to you, careful not to jostle or jolt you, “Is this a medical emergency?” You shook your head, “do I need to call an ambulance?” You shook your head once more, feeling like you wanted to cry.

How embarrassing that you were having an episode like this in front of your boyfriend after hiding it so well for so long. And even more embarrassing that you couldn’t tell him what was going on let alone why you felt the way you did, “Is this a panic attack?” You shook your head no. Oscar made a little ‘oh’ and sat quietly next to you, unsure of what to say or do. You took a deep breath and forced yourself to open your mouth, despite how heavy your tongue felt. “I’m just a bit anxious.” “What about?” You shrugged, “Nothing. Everything. Hard to explain.” Oscar smiled at you through your one word answers and short sentences, “Well I can wait, it’s okay.” You nodded, hands starting to tingle with how long you’d been rubbing them against fabric and you winced as a sudden cramping feeling started in your stomach. Oscar seemed to notice your discomfort, “Please let me hold your hand angel, I promise I don’t care if it’s sweaty and you think it’s gross, I just want to help okay?” You nodded, breathing deeply and letting him take your hand in his. 

As soon as your hand was in his, his thumb was rubbing gentle circles over the back of your hand. A soothing motion that you let your eyes focus on. Watching his hands and how they moved, anything to keep your attention off of the anxious feeling. 

As he sat next to you Oscar wondered how he should approach you to talk about this. Clearly there was something you weren’t telling him. He thought he knew what it was and he understood why you hadn’t told him. He knew that people got anxious, hell he was always anxious before a race, but he also knew that for some people it went beyond unsettling feelings. He guessed that that’s what you were dealing with too. He’d seen Logan feeling like this a few times and so he wracked his brain to try and remember what the American had told him was useful. How about distraction? It was worth a shot! “Want to watch a film?” You nodded, eyes still laser focused on Oscar’s hands. “I knew you had a thing for my hands but you are allowed to blink you know.” He joked, cracking the smallest sound of an exhale of laughter from you, that was a start. “What film should we watch, hmm?” He grabbed the remote to start flicking through options, his hand never leaving yours, but aware that there was enough space between you so you didn’t feel smothered. “I think something cute and funny? Yes that’s a goooood plan Oscar.” You gave a weak smile once more as he talked to himself and he smiled at you, “how about Tangled?” You nodded and he selected the film, settling back into the couch, head looking at you once more, “Do you want to cuddle?” You shook your head and he just shrugged, wanting to keep you as comfortable as possible,  “That’s okay, you just let me know when you do, okay?” You nodded and he squeezed your hand to comfort you, “Do you want to sit back on the couch?” Your body was still tightly wound and feeling like a live wire so you shook your head, physically unable to relax. And still all Oscar did was smile at you.

As the film started, you did your best to focus on it, finding yourself unable to stop smiling and releasing some of the tension in your shoulders at various points when your boyfriend spoke the lines along with the characters, with facial expressions. You watched on screen as Rapunzel and Flynn entered the Ugly Duckling Pub and you realised your body finally felt relaxed enough to sit back against the couch. Oscar silently breathed a sigh of relief, all he wanted to do was fix it for you but he knew that he could only do so much. 

By the time the next song had finished, your body was subconsciously leaning against him. Your head rested on his shoulder and he gently tilted his head to rest on top of yours. You gave a little contented sigh. As you sat there, a wave of tiredness hit you, the physical symptoms and mental strain you’d been feeling since you woke up taking its toll. With Oscar’s warm body next to you and the comforting sounds of one of your favourite movies on screen, it wasn’t long before you felt your eyes beginning to slowly close. Oscar looked down at you and saw that your lashes had fluttered shut. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head and let his own eyes slip shut. 

When you woke up a couple of hours later, the TV was off and you were laying on the couch with a soft blanket covering you. You sat up and sleepily rubbed your eyes, “Osc?” You heard low music drifting through the door to the kitchen and you could hear Oscar mumbling to himself and humming along, cursing occasionally when pots and pans clanged together. He poked his head out from the kitchen door, “There’s my pretty girl. Good morning angel.” He cooed at you and the way you blinked back at him sleepily. “What time is it?” “It’s lunchtime! I was just reheating breakfast.” You nodded, sitting up and pulling your knees up to your chest as he padded across the room to take a seat at the end of the couch by your feet, “I’m sorry.” Oscar’s eyes searched your face as you looked down at your hands in your lap. Oscar’s hand rested on your knee, “Angel, you never have to apologise for something like that…” He trailed off, hesitant to ask you his next question, “do you want to talk about it?” You inhaled slowly, nodding, “Yeah I think I would.” He gently nudged you with his elbow and you shifted back to let him sit in front of you, both of you sitting cross legged. He held his hands out to you and you took them with a shaky exhale.  

“Umm… I’m not exactly sure how to explain it?” You admitted, your fingers playing with his own in an effort to keep yourself grounded as that familiar feeling of your shoulders tightening and nausea creeping up began to settle in. He followed your gaze, “That’s okay, we have all the time in the world. Explain it however you feel is easiest.” You nodded once more, “So obviously you noticed that I was feeling anxious,” He tilted his head to one side to show you he was listening as you continued, “That’s because I have generalised anxiety disorder. And the thing is… I feel like that most of the time.” You admitted shakily, desperately willing yourself not to cry. If Oscar was surprised or taken aback he didn’t show it, instead just linking your hand with his and squeezing, encouraged you continued, 

“There are good days and there are bad days but I’m always anxious… There’s this constant feeling of underlying panic or anxiety or this sense of impending doom.” You looked up and noticed how Oscar’s eyes searched yours, willing you to understand that he wasn’t going anywhere, “I feel nauseous, I feel shaky, my hands get clammy, sometimes it’s like I forget how to breathe, my head and stomach hurt for no reason, my head goes fuzzy and it’s hard to focus on anything but the feeling of how anxious I am…” “Baby…” Oscar breathed, you gave him a watery smile, tears filling your lash line, 

“It makes me irritable, it makes me bitchy, it makes me snap at people I love, it makes me sensitive and emotional, I cry a lot, I cancel plans at the last second, I keep to myself and I build my walls up…” You trailed off, meeting his gaze and noticing that his eyes were filling with tears too, “Sometimes it feels like I’m two people. Me and my anxiety.” You couldn’t help the way the tears fell with a choked sob, “Angel, can I please please give you a hug?” Oscar pleaded, itching to pull you into his arms and comfort you. 

You nodded through your sobs, finally feeling the huge emotional release that had been building since you’d woken up. He reached for you, gently grabbing your arms and pulling you forward onto him. Falling back against the arm of the couch with you against his chest as you both stretched your legs out. He held you for what felt like forever, tightly wrapping his arms around you and stroking your hair, gently murmuring to you and kissing your forehead. When your sobs had subsided a little, he wiped your cheeks, “My sweet girl…” He gently pressed kisses across your face, relishing in the way your crying eased and you let out a little sigh after each one, “Thank you so much for telling me angel.” He paused, “Can I ask why you didn’t tell me before?” He asked gently. You sighed, fisting his t-shirt in your hand as you fought the nervous feeling that made your stomach flip. His hand rubbed up and down your back in a soothing motion as he felt you tense up in his arms, “I’m not mad at you baby, I just want to know what I can do differently in the future. I’d hate it if you didn’t feel safe enough to come to me for help.” You nodded, nuzzling into his chest, attempting to block out the world and focus on Oscar. Just Oscar. 

“Everyone I’ve told has left…” You mumbled sadly, “Hmmm?” His voice was soft, like he didn’t want to scare you out of answering, “I told a few people growing up, uni friends and stuff, and they would always answer with the usual ‘oh yeah I feel anxious too’... Until I explained I had diagnosed anxiety disorder and then,” you sighed, “then they would tell me it was too much for them to deal with, or they would get mad at me for ruining plans, or tell me to just get over it when I tried to talk to them about it.” Oscar’s hold on you tightened a little as he felt a spark of anger burn inside him. How dare they? Anyone could see that you were trying your best, he gave you his full attention as you continued, “I guess all of those things mean that I have a hard time opening up and trusting people with the knowledge of my diagnosis because it’s always backfired… Please don’t be mad at me… I do trust you, I just…” “Hey,” Oscar’s voice was low to ensure he didn’t trigger you, “I’m not mad or disappointed at you baby, I’m frustrated with myself for not noticing sooner.” “I’m pretty good at hiding it,” you admitted, the two of you led there in silence for a moment before Oscar spoke again, “Well I’m beyond proud of you. For dealing with it everyday and for opening up to me.” You tilted your head up to look at him and pressed a soft kiss to his jawline, “Thank you for listening.” He smiled back down at you, “Of course.” 

You summoned up the courage to ask him the question that had been on your mind for a little while, “H-how did you know how to help?” Oscar breathed deeply for a second, “There’s someone on the grid who uhhh, struggles with the same thing. They’ve opened up to me and explained what helps them so I figured I’d try?” You pushed yourself up to look at him in surprise, “Someone on the grid?” Oscar nodded, “I won’t say who, because it’s their thing to disclose and explain,” You nodded, “Of course!” “But they’re doing their best to work on things and ask for help and they’ve been doing really well.” Oscar made a mental note to ask Logan if he would consider talking to you. “Well, Tangled was a great choice!” You giggled as Oscar nuzzled his nose into your neck, “Yeah? I wanted to pick something that wouldn’t make you feel worse.” You couldn’t help the way you threw your arms around him and cuddled into him, so thankful for him and the thought and care he gave to you. “I love you.” It was muffled against his chest but he knew what you wanted to say and so with a chuckle he kissed the top of your head, “I love you too, angel.”

You stayed there for a moment before he was gently pushing you to sit up so he could look into your eyes, “I want to say something.” He hesitated and you nodded at him to continue. He gently held your chin with one hand, keeping you looking at him as his other hand found yours in your lap, linking his fingers with yours and squeezing, despite the way your hands were starting to get a little clammy again, “You may have anxiety disorder but it’s not who you are, baby.” Your eyes widened, he continued, “You are not your diagnosis. There is so much more to you than that. You are kind and caring, you’re smart, you’re beautiful, you’re creative.” Your heart melted at how passionately he was speaking. “You’re loved and valued by me and so many others, angel… I love you, the anxiety gremlin that comes with you and all.” You giggled at how he referred to it, “Anxiety gremlin… I like it!” He smiled, kissing your nose, you scrunched it up and he kept talking, “I know I can’t fix it and make it go away, believe me baby I wish that I could. But I promise that I’ll be here through all the bad days and the good days. I’ll do everything I can to make it easier and more bearable for you.”

You couldn’t help the way you started crying again, happy tears this time, Oscar’s thumb gently wiping them away, “So when you’re feeling up to it, we’re gonna sit down and talk about how I can help. What I can do when you’re having a bad day, the things we can do together, how you like to be distracted, how I can help when we’re out in public, maybe a codeword?-” You giggled as he started speaking faster and faster, you stopped his rambling with a soft kiss, pressing your lips to his, your hand cupping his face, thumb rubbing over his cheek, “That sounds perfect baby, thank you.” Oscar kissed you once more, pulling you into him, “You just let me know when you’re ready.” You nodded, “I will, I promise.” “Good! But for now, we still need to eat our breakfast!”

[fatkish]

hello!!!

I was wondering if you could do a dadzawa x student! Reader who starves themselves and says they’re not hungry because they don’t really feel hungry at all if you get what I mean(s3 ep42)

So basically they js head off to bed once they get to the camp instead of eating and stuff and he’s concerned for their well being and yeahh. Sorry I’m not a really good explainer but I’d really appreciate it if you do this request it would mean a lot to me considering I am a person who sometimes unintentionally starves themselves

Anyways I hope you have a good rest of your day/night, and thank you once again!!

I totally get this. Due to my middle school experience, I went from having breakfast at around 7:00-7:30 am with lunch at around 11:00 am to breakfast at 6:30 am an lunch at 1:00 pm. This was horrible for me because I would sit in class with my stomach growling before lunch. It made me develop horrible eating habits, so I get it. Anyways, onto the story.

Aizawa x Student Reader (Platonic): Eating Habits

You and your class had just walked out of the forest after having spent hours making your way to the campsite, dodging and fighting Pixie-Bob’s earth monsters

Despite all this, you still weren’t hungry, you didn’t plan on eating and were planning to just take a bath and go to sleep

When Aizawa told you guys to grab your bags off the bus and put them away before heading to dinner, you grabbed your bag with everyone else and headed inside

You went into your shared room and set your bag down in your spot. You began to unpack, rolling out your bedding, getting it all made up

As everyone left to go eat, you decided to clean up and take a shower to get rid of the dirt from the day

Aizawa has always been observant, so he definitely had noticed how you rarely went to lunch to eat, you’d either nap, play games, or do your own thing in the classroom

There had been times he’d seen you eating your homemade lunch in the classroom away from others, so he assumed that you had an issue with eating around other people

When he didn’t see you eating among his other students, he assumed you were too shy to get food or perhaps too tired

So he went to find you and make sure you got food in you

When he found you and told you where the cafeteria was and to go eat, he was surprised and concerned to hear that you didn’t plan on eating and planned instead to take a bath and go to bed

Aizawa wasn’t so keen on this plan of yours

He asked you why, to which you replied that you weren’t hungry. He told you that that’s not good enough of a reason

He then gave you a lecture about how the body needs food especially with the training you’re going to be doing

He thinks that there may be more to this and hopes that the reader doesn’t have some kind of eating disorder

He decides to go get the reader a small plate of food and bring it to them

Once he does, he tells them that he wants to see them eat what’s on the plate and then he’ll let them sleep after that

Aizawa isn’t one to budge from this so you eat the food. Upon seeing you slightly struggle he decides to sit down and try to talk to you

As you talk to him, he asks if there’s a reason why you have a hard time eating

You tell him you’re just not hungry

He asks if you’re bulimic or anorexic or have some kind of underlying issue that has caused this

Seeing where his thoughts were going you quickly and throughly reassured him that you just have a hard time eating when you aren’t hungry

Throughout the camp, Aizawa makes sure to keep an eye on you and lets you take a break to eat whenever you do get hungry

He may be strict, but his number one priority is to make sure his students are taken care of

[nayatarot777]

Lilith in Taurus/2nd House

this is intuitive astrology. meaning that i’m making these notes based on what i intuitively pick up about this astrological point being merged with these signs. take it with a grain of salt and understand that you might not relate to everything that i get from your placement 🖤

Astrology Masterlist

taurus is all about the physical realm, as it’s an earth sign. taurus energy is related to your physical senses, your physical appearance in terms of aesthetics, food, personal income + money - security, basically. everything that you need on a basic level to feel secure and comfortable as a person.

therefore, the experience of having lilith in taurus is one that includes people shaming you for wanting to feel comfortable and secure. people shaming your aesthetic, shaming you for wanting to look good, for wanting to make money, for wanting to enjoy the literal basic luxuries of life - even down to the food that you eat.

people made you feel ashamed for wanting to savour things - like the meals that you had. this placement will have people not liking when you seem comfortable and content. it’s hater energy to the fullest degree, coming from people who feel like they can’t relax and enjoy the simple joys of life themselves. so why should you, right?🙄

^ you ever had a parent (or anyone else for that matter) not enjoy you sleeping, eating, lounging around, and relaxing? no matter how much you may have worked hard for that entire week or month or few months even - as soon as they see you relaxing, it’s a problem. this is why. your lilith energy is a reflection of what they feel like they don’t have for themselves. they don’t have peace so they try to disturb yours.

your peace triggers people fr. when people can tell that you’re content in a situation or with life in general, they’ll bring some bs your way to disrupt that. of course these are usually people who are always in chaotic situations or who are just chaotic people mentally + emotionally themselves. they get jealous of you being the opposite (or at least seeming that way).

lilith in taurus/2nd house can also bring shame around food. it always reminds me of secret eating habits. i have lilith in taurus and i don’t like to eat in front of people. and this is all due to the fact that my father (i call him my sperm donor 🙃) would try to make me feel like i’m being greedy when i ate anything that i enjoyed. even if it was a regular portion of something. mind you, he’d get the munchies and eat everything in the house - even food that i bought myself for me or my little sister or brother. you see how no matter what lilith placement you have, people project what they know about themselves onto you, related to the energy of that sign or house?

lilith in taurus can definitely indicate eating disorders. a cycle between not eating anywhere near enough (basically starving yourself) to eating too much in one go - also known as binge eating.

you were also shamed for wanting things. maybe even accused of being ‘spoiled’. and you’re looking at these people who accuse you of that like “spoiled where? 🤨”. it’s because these toxic ass people didn’t want us to have the basic necessities of life. especially if you have toxic parents. you needing the basics is needing “too much” for these people. this may be why you feel like you can’t ever really truly enjoy what you have now. because there’s a subconscious belief that you “shouldn’t” have whatever you have. or that you don’t deserve it or some bs like that.

^ this can definitely pertain to money too. you may want money but when you get it, you blow it all too quickly on things that you’re not entirely happy with buying. it’s because you don’t know how to handle having money and feeling like you deserve that money. so you get rid of it as quickly as possible. remember what i said about being shamed for holding onto things that you enjoyed? for savouring the fact that you have something? now you feel like you can’t even enjoy what you have, so you cycle and blow through possessions and spending money. because you don’t feel right just enjoying the feeling of having it because of this shame.

people view you as someone who already has “too much” - even if you don’t have enough. they view you as someone who has ‘too much’ money, ‘too much’ beauty (as taurus is ruled by the planet venus), ‘too much’ peace, ‘too much’ stability. ‘too much’ power with your money, beauty, and your voice.

^ a lot of people with lilith in taurus/2nd house have really nice voices. you may experience people mistaking your regular tone or your friendly tone as a flirty or seductive tone. shit’s annoying.

taurus also rules your physical body. people will be jealous of this. doesn’t matter if you don’t fit into the standard of beauty when it comes to your body type. your body is attractive no matter what size, what shape, etc. if you’re a woman especially, you may have noticed how other women’s energy switches up when you wear something that shows your shape or your body more visibly. bitches be HATING. your body, your face, your aesthetic, your voice, your hair - everything to do with your appearance is a force to be reckoned with. which leads me to my next point:

people don’t like when we make ourselves look good. this placement always gives me the energy of people accusing us of “doing too much” when we wear makeup, or when we wear certain outfits. just when we dress up. because, again, we’re already perceived as people who have “too much” beauty. if you ever meet anyone like that, then FUCK THEM. they’re wanting to shame you just because they feel like they could never reach your level of beauty, and you’re making it harder for them to compete in their imaginary competition with you (unbeknownst to you) by making yourself more beautiful??? girl…👀

men who are intimidated by your beauty will also try to say slick shit about your clothes, your hair, or something about your physical appearance. you know when insecure men feel like you’re out of their league, so they have to try to “humble” you by negging you or some shit? they assume that you’re used to people treating you like you’re the prettiest/most attractive person in the room, so they have to be the one person who tries to bring you down because they’ve ASSUMED that you usually get put up on a pedestal. a pedestal that makes you unreachable to them.

^ you’ll probably experience this from women too who are in competition with you, but when it comes from men, it’s because they’re attracted to you but they feel like you wouldn’t be attracted to them. it’s coming from that perceived rejection that insecure men can never handle correctly 😂

your ability to dress in the way that you wanted to and to have the aesthetic that you wanted was also suppressed. that may be why you’re never happy with the clothes that you have. because they don’t actually resonate with you.

lilith in this sign/house denotes a very dark aesthetic, or one that just rebels against the ‘normal’ way of dressing and doing your makeup (or lack thereof) or your hair. so when you don’t embrace that, you’re going to have an issue with the way that you look. a dissatisfaction more than anything.

^ anybody else experience being treated like you were the biggest ‘slut’ for even showing a tiny bit of skin? you could wear a crop top and people will look at you like you stepped out of the house butt naked.

lilith in taurus or the 2nd house always reminds me of sex workers too. people who use their sexuality to gain personal income. or people who use a sexual aesthetic to make money. think of certain types of instagram models, dominatrix work (especially financial dominatrixes), strippers, etc. i feel like lilith in scorpio/8th house is more of an indication of sex work that involves actually having sex with clients for money (like prostitution). whereas lilith in taurus/2nd house is moreso using the aesthetics and image of being sexual to make money. i hope that makes sense 😂

[fallenneziah]

If you are excepting requests? May I request a ghost x reader where he sees reader working out and at first he thinks she’s doing it because she wants( he lowkey doesnt want her to lose the weight, 🩷he likes her chubby :((( )but then she just stops eating and doing things she normally does because she’s insecure and he just comforts her. kinda long but only if u wanna do it🫶🏼🫶🏼 feel free to change some thingsss

Aww, thank you anon. Requests are open, I'll happily write for you guys (please send me stuff 😅😂)

Beauty standards.

Cw: unhealthy weight loss, unhealthy coping mechanisms, eating disorder (in standard), Ghost taking care of you. Just fluffy.

Ghost is absolutely enamored by you. As a 6'4 man with muscles for miles, he absolutely adores you to be somewhat opposite of him.

There's just something about your soft tummy and despite how much you workout and how strong you get you never lose that soft plush to your skin that makes him want to pick you up and cradle you for hours.

There was something about your warm thighs. He loved holding them. He loved when you sat on his lap and he could pull your thighs in and squeeze the soft skin in his calloused hand.

What he would give to feel your tummy in his hands, sleeping with his head on your chest and your hands on his skin.

Your body is everything to him. He would love it, kiss it, and worship it every day. He just thinks you're absolutely beautiful.

But lately you haven't been feeling as excited about your body as he is. You'd promised yourself you would stop going on Instagram just to split compare yourself so much to the obvious filtered oblivion that were the supposed supermodels. And you promised you wouldn't let any of it get to you.

You were chubby, and sometimes being labelled as simply cute hit a little nerve inside you. Especially in military.

Slowly falling back down that hole. First staring to with a random weight suggestion board that had been cycling around. You decided to try it, and soon exercise took up a huge chunk of your day. More than it usually did.

Grabbing a half a bite of breakfast to leave for your ass crack of dawn morning run followed up by the crazy workout routine you'd been suggested.

At first Simon commented on the stride and how he was impressed you were stepping up. Under the impression you were taking care of your body's needs.

But it only got worse. Until you felt no change in the workout routine and simply decided you would just stop eating.

You had to get thinner somehow and you wouldn't stop until you could confidently post a picture looking like one of the Karcrashions.

You skipped out on meals and simply gave the excuse of being tired and that you'd get food later. But this only flew for so long. How you thought you'd get away with it with the others let alone your own boyfriend was a wonder.

Once again, laying in your bed after rejecting dinner, hearing the door open. You recognized the heavy footsteps as he approached, kneeling onto the bed.

"Hey Simon..."

Simon hummed, his arms wrapping around you, pushing the blanket back and laying down behind you, kissing your neck.

"Tell me what's wrong." He whispers, pressing another soft kiss behind your ear.

"I'm fine baby, I'm just not feeling hungry."

Simon kisses your nape again. "You're never hungry anymore..."

"Just on a new diet..." You mumbled, wanting to tell him and wanting to hide at the same time. Simon squeezed you gently, his hand splaying across your stomach. His kisses slowly stop and he lays his head there, just listening.

The moment of silence passed before you finally managed out. "I feel Hideous..."

Simon shifts slowly. "Why? What makes you feel... Hideous."

You roll onto your back, giving him a firm look. "You know exactly what. Look at me... No matter what I do I can't get rid of this stupid fat!"

Simon remained silent, nodding a little. His heart sank. Simon understood what it meant to hate yourself. He still remembers the time when he felt like he would rather die than live in his body.

But he loved your body. He could never see you as hideous.

"What? You mean your stomach?" He gently rubbed the plump area. You scoffed though. "It's everything. My thighs, my arms, my stomach..."

Simon looked you up and down, effortlessly lifting you up. He kneeled in front of you, gently wiping a tear before it could fall far.

"Fuck what anyone else says. Fuck it." He leans forward, wrapping his arms around your waist and gently kissing your thighs.

"I love every inch of you." He whispered. "The world can burn before I give one fuck about what they say about you."

You sniffled and grimaced. "I hate it... I wish I was skinny."

Simon looked up at you. "Sweetheart, you're beautiful. You're perfectly healthy. What woman wants a bloke with abs and no fluff. Like sleeping on a goddamn xylophone." He gently kissed your stomach, holding your thighs.

"Everyone likes a little bit of fluff."

"I know I do."

He stood and swept you up again, making you gasp and grip onto him, legs curling around him. He played back down on the bed and postures you on top of him.

"No woman's stomach is completely flat, thigh gap? I couldn't give less of a fuck. All I care about is that you're still healthy, and ultimately, you're happy."

Your eyes brimmed with more tears, sniffling. "You don't... Think I'm ugly?"

Simon leaned up, sliding you down into his lap. He wrapped your legs around his torso and kissed you softly. "Not a day since I met you."

A lot of times, seeing your body in a positive light is a hard thing. Even with people around you who encouraged your proportions. Simon knew this. He knew he could help, he could love you and reassure you that he wasn't here just because of your body.

He loves his fluffy princess 😊.

[shotmrmiller]

09 Wife pregnancy HC with 22 Simon (some nsfw) @nunezr29

Simon is the one with the babycenter app that tells him how far along you are and what size of veggie or fruit is the baby.

He reads up on all foods you can and cannot eat. Unpasteurized cheeses? In your dreams. Uncooked sushi? Forget about it.

Simon also harps on you eating a complete meal. "Meaning it's got to have protein, carbs, and greens, love. No, iced coffee and bread is not the same."

Speaking of coffee, only one cup. He prefers if you switched to tea, but it's whatever you want.

The fridge always has apple juice. It's tart enough for you to get rid of the taste of bile once you're done throwing up in the morning.

No eggs, you hate the smell of them. Got it.

Simon hears you complain once about how your pants don't fit, so now your closet is full of maternity clothing. You're 14 weeks along.

At 15 weeks, the chances of a miscarriage have gone drastically lower, and Simon can say that he sleeps a little easier at night.

Your belly is getting bigger, and it's finally starting to sink in for Simon. He's going to be a father— you're going to birth his baby. He showers you with praise when you finally have the energy to have sex with him. (He comes way too fast because it's been weeks since he last had you)

He isn't afraid of 'hurting the baby' during sex. He's afraid of hurting you. Are you okay like this? Can you breathe okay? Are you too sensitive? Does this hurt?

Now you're in the second trimester. Your skin is glowing, your energy is back, and your belly is larger. Beautiful.

Simon takes you in front of a mirror so he can tell you what he sees. Hips that are getting wider to accommodate his baby. Stretch marks that he traces with his fingertips because if you aren't repulsed by his scars, how could he ever dream of not loving yours. Your body is softer and fuller, and he only sees it as him doing a damn good job at providing for you.

then the 20th week comes along. Time to find out the gender of the baby! When the midwife points at the screen to tell him what it is, he cries. Full-on weeps because "I'm gonna have a little girl."

When the midwife asks if he wants to do the screening test for any genetic disorders, he firmly says no. "Only thing tha' matters to me is tha' she's born healthy."

Your libido is through the roof. Which is great for him, make no mistake, but sometimes you wring him dry. Also, the extra slick from the hormones is something that drives him absolutely crazy.

Simon takes all of your mood swings like a champ. He lets you get angry at him without fighting back, he holds you when you cry over a picture of a cute turtle.

Your belly is large now, in your 3rd trimester and Simon calls the guys over one day to help set up all of the baby furniture, and the nursery.

The midwife visits turn bi-weekly instead of monthly, so you think it's a good idea to have a baby shower. Simon doesn't let anyone in apart from the 141 and their wives, and he thoroughly inspects any gifts he gets at work from anyone. If he so much as comes across something that could be potentially harmful to you or his baby, he'll have their head.

Then the visits turn weekly until you wake him up at 3 am one night and inform him that it's time. He immediately calls the midwife, and she tells him to blow up the small pool and that she'll be there soon.

He calls all of the guys and tells them that his baby is about to make her grand entrance.

[rea-grimm]

Sleep protector Sanji

You once stood at the top. You were one of the best chefs in the world and even a respected food critic. You were all that until a jealous colleague deliberately poisoned you. 

He was always jealous of you and your talent in the kitchen, but you thought you were friends despite that. But you couldn't be more wrong about him.

When they tried to poison you, you lost all taste and thus the joy of eating. Even as a cook, you were at your wit's end, as you couldn't even test the food and especially you didn't want to rely on someone else. You didn't trust anyone else anymore.

You've also suffered from nightmares ever since, mostly about food. Thanks to them, you often screamed from sleep and woke up exhausted. This also affected your love relationship and the boyfriend who stood by you until then left you. Just like everyone else you met.

You tried therapy, meditation, sleeping pills, coffee, pills to stay awake, but nothing worked. You felt like your life ended the day you were poisoned.

One day, the doorbell rang. It was strange because you weren't expecting any visitors and no mail. You walked over to the door and opened it. 

No one was there, but something was pinching your nose. It kind of reminded you of how your nose stung from the cigarette smoke your ex-boyfriend smoked.

When you didn't see anyone anywhere, you looked around and noticed a small package, wrapped like a gift. It was placed right at your feet, you were surprised you didn't accidentally step on it.

You took the box and noticed that there was a small note tied to the ribbon. You took the box inside and closed the door. You placed the box on the table and untied the black ribbon.

When you opened the letter, you found out that it was a gift from one of your fans. You were moved by his letter, but at the same time, a certain paranoia lived in you that this could be another attempt on your life.

Despite that, you decided to find out what was in the box. You removed the maroon paper from it and opened the lid. The box was lined with light blue paper, on which lay a light teddy bear in a black jacket and blue shirt.

The most striking feature seemed to be his curly eyebrows. You thought it was cute. You took it out and you had to admit that it was made of very pleasant material. In the end, you decided to keep him.

That turned out to be the right thing to do as your nightmares slowly faded away. You were always saved from them by a young man in the same suit as your teddy bear with blond hair and curly eyebrows.

He rescued you from your nightmare and took you to some safe place where he prepared something good for you to eat. It was wonderful to feel the taste of food again in a dream. However, it was even more disappointing to wake up back to a reality where this was not possible.

Although you got rid of one problem, another one appeared. As dreams became more pleasant than reality, you began to have an aversion to real food more often. As much as you missed the taste of the delicious food from your dreams, you became more and more disappointed with real food and refused to eat it. 

But you knew very well that it was a problem. Although you didn't want to end up with an eating disorder, you were worried that you were slowly getting closer to it.

It often happened that when you woke up in the morning, you smelled a stench in your room that reminded you of cigarette smoke. You even found a few cigarette butts in a small ashtray that you had no idea you had because you were a non-smoker.

Slowly, hopelessness began to take hold of you again, and even though your dreams were wonderful and represented a wonderful escape, they left you torn. 

On the one hand, you were looking forward to the dreams of an excellent chef. Although sometimes he reminded you more of a prince on a white horse than a cook. 

On the other hand, you didn't want to return to reality every morning, when almost all the good things from the dream had left.

You were slowly starting to feel sad even in your dreams and the waiter didn't miss it either. While he was preparing food for you in the dream, he was trying to find out what was bothering you. 

However, it was just a dream and you didn't want to deal with your problems in it. Instead, you somehow talked it out and helped him a little in the kitchen. You had no idea how much you missed it.

As your mood didn’t improve, you received an envelope from the waiter in your last dream.

"What is it? ” you asked in surprise before opening it. Inside was a brochure with an invitation to the restaurant.

“Sweet Mellorine. It bothers me to see you sad, and I would like to invite you to the restaurant," he got down on one knee as if asking for your hand in marriage.

You were moved and speechless. Why, of all the boys, did you have to fall in love with the one from your dreams? 

You finally agreed and the waiter was happy about it. He gently took your hand and kissed it from your fingers to your arm. Something like this has never happened here in your life.

When you woke up in the morning, you thought what a strange and pleasant dream it was. You were even more surprised when you noticed the envelope on the bedside table.

You hesitantly reached for it and opened it. Inside was the same invitation to the restaurant you dreamed about. You didn't understand. How could you be here if it was just a dream?

At first, you were hesitant to go there. However, when you replayed the dream in your head, you decided to give it a try.

You put on better clothes, adjusted yourself and ordered a taxi that took you to the front of the restaurant. Just the way the restaurant looked at you from the outside was unique and unusual.

You walked in and showed the invitation to the front desk. The receptionist took it from you, looking at it for a moment before he excused himself for a moment and left. When he came back, he apologized for the wait and took you to the table.

You passed other tables on your way and felt everyone else's eyes watching you. This hasn't happened to you in a long time. You haven't been to a restaurant for a long time either.

When you were seated, you were given a menu and set about choosing your food. You heard others whispering your name and you had mixed feelings about it. After all, you weren't the same person you were before. Instead, you focused on choosing food. They certainly didn't have a bad choice here.

"Have you already chosen?" said a familiar voice. You turned to the blond waiter who reminded you a lot of your dream. But how would that be possible? Surely it was just a coincidence.

"Not yet, somehow I can't decide," you smiled at him.

“I can offer you a special menu that is much better than all the other bluffs they serve here,” he offered you with a confident smile.

“Then I'll have it,” you replied, handing the menu back to him. The waiter took it from you and left for the kitchen with a satisfied smile.

He then brought you meal after meal. Aperitif, appetizer, soup, several smaller main courses and ended everything with a delicious dessert. At first, you hesitantly took a bite on your fork, afraid to taste it.

You finally popped a bite into your mouth and your tongue burst with such new flavours that it stunned you. For a moment you were completely taken aback. It was so good that you were at a loss for words and had tears in your eyes.

You wiped your eyes as you started eating with new joy. Each dish was more delicious than the first. You had the impression that you had never eaten anything better.

After the meal, the blond waiter came to see if he could offer you anything else. You had more than enough and wanted to pay. As soon as you mentioned it, he started to convince you that it was all on account of the company.

When you got home, you were in a good mood from the restaurant and wanted to write them a positive review. You sat down at the computer and started looking for a restaurant.

However, no matter how hard you searched, you couldn't find even a mention of Baratie anywhere. You slowly got the impression that the restaurant didn't even exist.

The very next day, you went to look at the address, but to your dismay, there was no restaurant there. There was no building at all. Now you were even more interested in where you had been for the meal.

But you couldn't find out anything. You tried to put it behind you, but you still couldn't forget it. It was an unforgettable experience when you regained your appetite even when you were awake. Appetite for food and life.

Since visiting Baratie, you also stopped dreaming about the waiter with a cigarette and wavy eyebrows. You didn't have nightmares anymore, but your dreams weren't that interesting anymore.

One morning you woke up to an apartment smelling of freshly prepared food. You sat down sleepily on the bed, feeling like you were still half asleep. Otherwise, you couldn't even imagine it.

You got up from the bed and headed to the kitchen where you heard the sounds of cooking. That someone would break into your house? But then why would he cook in your kitchen? Such thoughts ran through your mind.

You walked up to the kitchen door and carefully peeked inside. A blond man in a blue shirt stood facing you by the stove. You immediately knew who it was from your dreams and the restaurant.

"Sanji?" you suddenly remembered his name, which he repeated to you many times in your dreams. However, you always forget him in the morning. Sanji turned around, a charming smile spreading across his face.

“Ah, Mellorine, you are finally awake. Did you dream about something amazing?” he asked you as he served the finished omelette on a plate. You mumbled something in agreement that you slept well and moved closer to him.

"I'm glad to hear that," he breathed. “I'm glad those annoying nightmares have finally given up. Now that I don't have to waste time with them, I can prepare something for you to eat," he said casually and placed the plate on the table.

"Am I still dreaming?" you asked in awe as it was too good to be true.

"What do you mean?" he asked confused, walking over to you and taking your hands.

"The fact that I dreamed about all of this..." you had no idea how to explain it without getting involved in it yourself.

"This is not a dream," he said when he finally understood what you were getting at. "Dreams aren't the only thing that needs protecting. Besides, I'll be much better at helping you here than there," he said seriously and you started to melt in his blue eyes for a moment when he was so close to you.

During breakfast, he tried to explain to you what he was doing to help you and relieve you of your problems. You were stunned by this, but it made sense. You just still haven't figured out how a little teddy bear turned into such a handsome man.

When you said this out loud to him, he turned red and his nose started to bleed. You immediately rushed to him full of worry. You were worried he'd have a heart attack.

After a while, Sanji calmed down and you wanted to thank him for everything he did for you. You felt like words couldn't express what all of this meant to you, so you kissed him lightly on the lips.

The unexpected gesture made the chef stop before he wrapped his arms around you and started showering you with lots of quick kisses and compliments. And even though he still had blood on his nose, you could tell by the hearts in his eyes that he was in seventh heaven.

Sanji Masterlist

Sleep Protector Masterlist

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Don't Speak 25

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, allusions to abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber

Note: My baby bird, dove!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You sit staring at the television, tucked into the corner of the couch as Andy sits on the other end. He has his feet up, still nursing his back, as he watches the game. You try to keep up with the outs and runs and all that but you don’t really get all that. You can’t focus anyway, all you can think about is how rotten you are.

You wanted to go to your room but he didn’t let you. He said you shouldn’t hide away from your mistakes. That he’s not mad and if you’re going to move forward, you can’t just sleep off your guilt. You don’t argue. He’s right.

“Honey,” Andy groans, “pills are wearing off.”

He touches his lower back as you wince and glance over at him. You pout as the bruise under his eye stares back at you starkly. You’re horrible. You can’t believe you did that to him. You cup your elbow before quickly ripping your hand away.

“You want more?” You ask.

“No, I can’t,” he mopes, “can only have so many a day–”

He goes to lean forward and hisses, clutching his hip as he pulls his legs off the ottoman. He curls his shoulders and whimpers as you hop up to your feet. You go towards him but don’t reach out to him.

“What can I do?” You offer.

“The cream,” he pushes himself back with some effort, “sweetie,” he gasps, “oh, god– help me up.”

“No, you should stay–”

“I can’t stay on the couch,” he grits as he latches onto your arm, jarring you. You squeak but don’t pull back. He’s too strong and you’re too afraid. “Help me to bed. It’ll help.”

“Um, okay,” you help him up as best as you can. “I’m sorry–”

“It’s fine,” he snarls through his teeth, “I just need to lay down.”

“Alright, uh, oh, wait,” you stop and angle away from him to snatch up the tube of cream, “got it.”

He puts his hand on your shoulder, gripping firmly, “good girl.”

You suck in your lower lip and nod. You just want him to feel better. Or maybe you just want to feel better. You get rid of the sour bile eating away at your stomach. The hot guilt that burns a hole inside of you.

He limps, one hand on his back, as he hunches awkwardly, and you take each stunted step with him. At the stairs, you take each one at a time, as he clings to the railing with other hand. He lets out a series of rasps grumbles as you ascend.

Earlier, he seemed to be getting better. When you sat down and talked, you don’t remember him slouching or flinching. Maybe the pills helped. You heard those things can sometimes make people feel better so they hurt themselves worse in the end by doing too much.

You turn down the hallway with him, nearly tripping as you look ahead to his bedroom door. You’ve never been in there. You have no place there. You feel like enough of an intruder. He needs your help and you need to stop being selfish.

You shuffle down to the door and push it open ahead the both of you. You get him past the threshold as he staggers. The room smells of him. The hint of his cologne and a strand of sweat cloying from the bed. 

You put your arm around his back as he yelps and you manage to get him to the bed. He drops down so harshly, he takes you with him. You land beside him, your arm trapped beneath him as you grip the cream in your other. He grumbles into a soft laugh.

“Sorry, dove,” he gives a strained smile, “I… I’m going to end up throwing your back out too at this rate.”

“Um, it’s…” you yank on your arm, several times before you manage to get free. You sit up on the edge of the bed and look back at him, “it’s okay. Er…”

He wriggles and reaches for you again. You do your best to help as he gets himself straight and you pile his pillows at the head of the bed. You step back and reclaim the tube of cream. He bends and arm up and tugs at the back of his shirt, whining and letting his hand fall to his lap.

“Dove…”

You get up onto the mattress and set the tube beside your leg. You gently roll his shirt up and get it over his head. He curls his neck as he struggles to get his arms higher than his shoulders. You leave the shirt to droop down his arms as he raises his head.

“Oh, uh,” you once more grab the lotion.

“Same place as before, dove,” he says.

“Alright,” you uncap the cream.

He moves slowly and lowers himself onto one side, his back facing you. You squeeze out a dollop and stare at it as the smell tickles your nose. You exhale and turn your palm, pressing it to his back before you can force yourself to watch. 

There’s something strange about touching him. You don’t touch others and they don’t touch you. You must just not be used to it. You rub the cream in, tracing the line of his shoulder blade up to his neck. He lets out a long moan and balls his hand around the corner of the pillow. The noises he makes are just as odd to you.

“That’s so nice,” he purrs, “thank you, dove.”

“Mhmm,” you put the lid on and back off the bed. You put the cream on the nightstand as you get to your feet, “I’m gonna wash my hand.”

“Sure, sure,” he murmurs, “will you come back? I don’t want to be alone.”

You round the bed and stop at the foot. You peek back at him. You want to say no. You want to go and sleep. It’s been a terribly long day. A terrible day in all ways. But he needs you and you’re being selfish.

“I’ll come back,” you promise.

“Thank you,” he sounds close to tears, “you could… bring your tablet and watch something.”

You consider him. You’ve never seen him look anything close to small but as he lays on his side, shoulders slumped, he doesn’t seem so scary. You sniff and keep your hand away from your shirt as you fall back into step.

“Sure.”

“And… and you could wear some of your new pajamas?” He suggests.

You stop in the doorway and don’t look back, “yes.”

You leave him and stop in the bathroom to wash off your hand. It’s starting to feel weird from the cream. You shut off the faucet and look over as the speaker keeps flashing. You frown. You forgot to tell him.

You cross the hall to your bedroom and dig out your tablet. You’ve been so distracted, you haven’t done much drawing. The days feel like a muddled mess behind you and you expect those ahead of you don’t seem much better.

You rest the tablet on the bed and go to the dresser, still crooked and displaced. You change into the pair of pajamas Andy chose. The ones with the little teddy bears. You like the pattern but not the cut. The top is long-sleeved but cut high around the stomach and the shorts are less preferable than pants. Maybe you can just hide under the blanket.

You bring your tablet with you and stop just before you get to his door. That sinking in your stomach plummets. You have a very bad feeling. A feeling that you never wanted to have again.

You enter as he lays in the dim room. The lamp is turned low and the corns webbed in shadow. You near the side of the bed and Andy pats the space beside him. You don’t let him see your reluctance as you climb up next to him.

“Thank you,” he croaks, “it’s not so bad, is it, dove? Working together… being better.”

“Yes,” you murmur as you unlock your tablet. “I… I’m trying.”

“I know, baby, I know,” he hums.

He rests his hand on your thigh, making your jump. You try to ignore it as you scroll on Youtube. You drag your finger over the screen as he slips onto the bare skin along the hem of the shorts. You blink, frozen as he kneads your flesh.

“I don’t… I don’t have Netflix,” you utter, “or anything…”

“That’s okay,” he wiggles closer, a few strenuous grunts in the process. He lifts his head and leans over, kissing just along your shoulder, “I just like having you close.”

“Please, don’t hurt yourself,” you plead as you keep from shrugging him away, “you have to relax.”

“Oh, dove, I know you care about me,” he lets himself back down, “I can feel how much you do.”

“Mhmm,” you tap on a video, a top ten list. They’re pretty lame but you don’t want to think too much. You prop up the tablet on your lap and ease back against the single pillow behind you.

Andy’s hand lingers. He lets it trail down to your knee and back up. He plays with the bottom of the shorts.

“These look so good on you,” his finger tickles you until goosebumps rise.

“Thanks,” your eyes stick to the small screen in front of you. Your ears are ringing and hot.

“Everything looks good on you,” he breathes.

“Um, Andy,” you eke out, “I… the speaker in the bathroom is broken.”

He’s quiet as his fingers continue to swirl over your skin, “speaker?” He says at last.

“Yeah, the speaker. It keeps flashing.”

“Huh, uh– ohhhh, yeah, the speaker,” he chuckles, “I keep forgetting to charge it. I’ll have to do that later. It will stop flashing soon enough.”

“Oh, alright,” you fold your hands over your stomach, “just thought I’d let you know.”

“And I appreciate it,” his fingers poke under your shorts, “you see how good you can be to me when you try?”

“Yes,” your voice crackles as he nestles closer, drawing his hand back only to sling his arm across your lap.

“I’m gonna rest my eyes,” he hugs your thighs, “is that okay, sweetie?”

“Sure,” you agree. If he’s asleep, he can’t be mad or touchy or anything else. If he sleeps, he won’t be in pain.

🕊️

Once more, your body takes over. You don’t remember the video changing or the tablet going black. Yet you wake on your side, head on the pillow, and your tablet screen down on the mattress in front of your legs.

Behind you is a blaze of heat. It’s just like before. Andy’s flush to you, his arm swept around you, his breath puffing around your head. But this time, you make yourself stay still. You squeeze your eyes shut and fight against the tide rising inside of you.

It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe. You blow out a breath and force your eyes open. You focus on the wall and try to remember those tricks Amber showed you. Just count to ten and breathe.

You do it. All on your. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. You feel your heart calming, not all the way, but some. Enough to keep from flailing.

You lay awake, resigned to the trap of Andy’s arm. It isn’t so bad. It’s warm, at least. 

He exhales ahead you, the soft gristle of his snore rising and falling in a rhythm. His hand is tucked under you, his body right against yours. You shift, wanting to fidget but afraid to wake him up. Your heartbeat begins to pick up again.

He moves but doesn’t wake. He holds you even closer and you feel something against you. Something hard. You frown, uncertain what it could be. You’re pretty sure you put the tube on the night table and it feels bigger than that.

You try to shimmy away but you can’t get far against his arm. You should just go back to sleep. The night will end sooner if you do.

You close your eyes but the noise in your head won’t stop. You’re not going to be able to fall asleep with all these thoughts. Not with him so close. Not being so aware of that fact.

Then you realise. You know what it is, pressing against you. That’s a part of him. Your cheeks are alight with embarrassment. For him, for you. Oh god. If you woke him up and he knew. You don’t want him to know.

You make yourself still, bound by the dread of him waking up. Go to sleep, go to sleep, go to sleep. You can’t, you just can’t. Not with his arm around you, not with his hot breath searing down your neck, not with his thing against you!

How can you ever sleep knowing you can’t be what he wants you to be? Or needs you to be? It’s all just too much for you. It’s so scary.

You want to love him like he says you do but you’re just lost. You must be broken. Andy loves you, he's taken care of you, he's been patient with you. And you are just as messed up as you've always been.

You hope Andy is right. You hope Dr. Kemp can help.

You squeeze your eyes tight. Just count to ten. You can make it to the morning.

[shirefantasies]

Hello! I'm sick and on a major Hobbit/LotR kick. I found your blog and I'm in love with your writing! If possible, could I request something like how Thorin's company (specifically Kili, but can add others) would react upon discovering reader has Trichotillomania (anxiety-induced hair plucking disorder)? I know it sounds kinda stupid, but it just popped into my head.

-🦅

Not stupid at all! Pulling at/out my hair if I’m anxious or have no fidgets is kind of something I do and tend to have characterized as a “bad habit” so I so get this! But our hair is precious as our lovely dwarves will remind us 😌 hopefully this is accurate, I included feelings I have when I’ve had anxiety/panic attacks, too, & just got carried away with some of them! If this is not a good representation, my apologies in advance love 🙏🏻

Trichotillomania- Thorin’s Company x Reader

Balin

“If ever you wish to talk, I hope you know this old dwarf’s ears still work.” Eyes widening, then narrowing as they looked up at Balin standing there the sunshine, you found yourself nodding and wringing at the ends of your sleeves. “Thank you,” you replied, “but why all of a sudden?” “I can tell you’ve been under some stress, and I can’t pretend I don’t understand. But ‘tis always better to talk about it than take it out on ourselves. Or each other, but I can’t foresee that being a problem with you,” the older dwarf winked. “No,” you chuckled, shaking your head, “I have no plans to start a fight. It may sound silly to you, what I have to say.” “Please,” Balin waved a hand, smiling lightly. You loved the way he always said ‘laddie’ or ‘lassie’. “I grew up with Dwalin and then the princes running around underfoot for how many years? Daresay I’m an expert at the inane by now.” “In that case, I’ll think of it as some free entertainment for you,” you joked back.

Dwalin

“Have you ever considered shaving it all off?” Frowning, you drop your hands and swivel to face the bald dwarf. You hadn’t exactly expected anyone to catch you having a panic attack in the woods, let alone cut through it with sarcasm. Body freezing, you wracked your brain for a response. Dwalin, it seemed, perceived that, changed his tone. “‘m not makin’ fun of you. Might feel good if y’ don’t mind looking like me. Ever you want to, just say the word and I can help.” Rough as his words were, you could sense the care behind them. Would it feel better to be rid of your compulsions completely, to have a fresh start? Whether you truly considered it or not, well aware were you how meaningful a suggestion it was by the warrior. “You say that as though looking like you is an insult,” you simply replied and gave him a nudge.

Thorin

Joint discovery. That is the word you would use to describe the night. Thorin had jolted awake suddenly, taking deep, panting breaths you could see heaving beneath his bedroll as you sat on watch duty, shock, concern, and anxiety increasing your own reactions. Coming to, the king-to-be took in the sight of you, sighed at the familiarity, thought better of it as his brows knitted. “Did you just have a nightmare?” You asked, and all but simultaneously Thorin said he saw the way your hands wrung your head. “Quite a bad habit,” you replied sheepishly, “but you really should go back to sleep.” “I think I would prefer to stay awake for a time, if that is alright,” Thorin responded, sitting up and brushing some long black hair off his shoulder. “Of course,” you told him, surprised but smiling at the way he shuffled to sit at your side. Tentatively you reached out a hand. “May I?” The king gave a silent nod, prompting you to gently rub his back, content at the new, more soothing occupation of your hand.

Oin

It all started when Oin was given bedroll duty, taking up all the members’ nighttime dwellings to carry once more. Upon yours, he could not help noticing, was a mass of hair, an unusual amount even for a race so conscious of its shedding. Approaching you, he asked if you’d not been feeling well, perhaps wanted to try an oil to care for your hair with or an herbal supplement to bring your strength back. Eyes shining at his generosity, you break down and admit your nervous habit, the way your hands go to your hair especially in the dark of night when all seems lost. From then on he appoints himself your personal hair carer, even teaches you new ways to style it that might keep it more safely out of the way. His hands work so gently over your hair, undoing the irritation and pain it had endured for so long and bringing a soft smile of contentment to your lips.

Gloin

Heavy breaths mingle with your own, prompting you to snap briefly enough from your reverie to register the dwarf running toward you with great stomping steps. Jumping a bit, you find yourself goggling at Gloin, who rests his hands on his knees and heaves a few more times before addressing you. “Now what’s brought this on? Can’t have you hurting yourself.” ‘Hurting yourself’ was never a consideration you’d made, but you supposed your hair was less precious to you than it was to the rest of your companyman. “You- you weren’t supposed to see that,” you told Gloin, folding your hands in your lap. At that, though, the auburn-haired dwarf waved a hand. “Nothing to be ashamed of. If it’s botherin’ you up there, why don’t you try one of these?” Any of the dwarves reaching into their pockets worried you a bit, but your mind races for his brief rummage until he produces a small article that looks somewhere between a cap and a bonnet. “Keep it safe up there. And if ya need something to do, why, come play a few rounds with my brother and I! That’ll keep your hands moving so fast you’ll forget you have ‘em!” “Hands or worries?” You laugh shakily. Luckily, Gloin gives a huge laugh at your awkward joke, patting you on the back. “Both if we’re lucky!”

Bifur

Far gentler about it than one might expect from him. He knows what it is like to have trauma, though, to have PTSD even if he doesn’t have that word for it. Thus he can read the signs of anxiety from a league off and tends to shuffle to your side during those moments. He knows his way of communication draws focus, attention, so as he sees you tugging at your hair he begins to sign questions. Simple questions, but ones you must then answer. “What is your name?” You tell him. “What is your name?” He signs again. Even through the spikes of overwhelming weight, the way the world closes in on you, you find yourself trying to remember how to sign your name if you know it, indicate you can’t if you don’t. Nodding, Bifur keeps this method going, cutting slowly but surely into the spiral and even telling you at the end of it that you are precious…all of you.

Bofur

“Hey, hey, whoa, what’s all this, huh?” Starting, you see Bofur appraching you, clearly having caught you ripping at your hair. Before you can respond his gloved hands fall over yours, removing them gently. “Feeling a mite stressed?” World still pressing in on you, you just nod, and Bofur’s hazel eyes soften. “Well, I don’t much are for seeing ya hurt yerself. Tell ye what: why don’t we try this instead?” Sitting up straighter, you peer up at the dwarf to see him unwinding his scarf and draping it over your shoulders. “Next time you don’t feel good, try playin’ with this instead. I like to mess with the little fringe on the end myself.” Fingers thoughtfully caressing the dangling edges, you smile as the scent of him rushes to you, grounding you that much more. “Are you sure?” “Positive,” he nods, patting your shoulder, “it’s all yours. Then again, I daresay it’s long enough for the both of us.” He winks and you grin all the way this time.

Bombur

“You get served first tonight,” Bombur tells you one evening, nodding to the carven bowl in your hand. “Me,” you ask, “why?” “Can tell you’ve been having a bad day is all,” the fiery-haired dwarf replied as he plucked the vessel from your hand, “and if you aren’t feelin’ well, well, extra to you!” Did he think you were sick? “This is just something that happens to me, though,” you told him, “it is not new." "Well," Bombur filled your bowl up high as he could, "more nourishment for that pretty hair of yours, and tell you what- next time you feel like pullin' it out, how's about asking for a hug instead?" Pausing, you accepted the warm wood he handed you. "You feel no shame at that?" "No," he replied, voice quietened, "I will only feel lucky." "As will I," you told him with a smile, knowing how Bombur gave the company's greatest and warmest hugs.

Dori

Dori, you knew, had the habit of hovering over his brothers, whether it was keeping them from their squabbles or ensuring they would not be catching cold, but you were hardly used to receiving such attention the day he sat at your side, insisting you share a cup of tea with him. Gently setting the steaming cup in your hands, the eldest Ri brother started asking you questions about how you were feeling, if the company treated you well. Sharing some stories and laughs about the others first, you finally asked him what this tea was all about. Well, in the most literal sense, Dori told you it was a calming blend with a bit of something Oin said helped hair grow and even a small dash of sugar he was able to scrounge up! Beyond that, well… “You don’t take care of yourself,” he replies, your name heavy but sweet upon his lips, “so I thought I could do it for you. I’m used to that, you know. Your hair is beautiful as your smile, so I suppose I wanted to protect both. Sorry if that’s silly.” Letting your head fall on his shoulder, you cupped your warm tea a bit tighter, tears welling in your eyes. “Not at all, Dori. Not at all.”

Nori

“Have you been itchin’?” Nori asks you one night, sending your gaze rapidly swiveling his way. “I beg your pardon?” “Couldn’t help but notice the way your hair is botherin' you," he replies with a shrug as he passes your bowl. Accepting your nightly meal, you sigh. "No, it isn't that, I... I get anxious. Don't know why I do it, but I can't help it." "No?" Nori pauses before his signature smirk returns. "But I can!" "Huh?" Dropping your spoon back into the stew incredulously, you turn your attention his way once more. "What do you mean?" "Simple. Just tell me when you get worried. If you like the feeling of something touchin' you, well I think I have that covered." Your eyebrows shoot up at that, raising a bark of laughter from the dwarf. "Whatcha getting in that pretty head of yours? Thought I might hold your hands, put an arm around ya."

Ori

“I made you this.” Ori holds out a knitted bear to you, smiling sheepishly through your zoning stare at the fire. Giving him your full attention, you break into a smile, clutching your gift close as you ask him what it is for. “Well,” the young dwarf rubs at the back of his neck, “I wasn’t trying to see, but, well, I did, so…” “What are you talking about?” Your brows furrow. “I noticed the way you pull out your hair when you get stressed and I thought it might hurt,” Ori replies, voice quiet, “so I made you something you can squeeze instead. It’s alright. He can’t feel the pain. Not like you can.” Tears well up in your eyes; misunderstanding, Ori takes a step back only for you to catch his hand, holding it tight and looking him in the eyes. “Thank you for seeing me. Truly.”

Fili

“You call that a bad habit? Why, you should see what half of this company’s gotten up to in their lifetimes! The sheer number of things they’ve snuck on this very trip,” Fili said with a smirk. A wave of nerves crashed over you, falling into a defensive cross of your arms. “Well, I’m sorry I’m too much of an anxious wreck to be exciting,” you bit out, turning away from him only to feel a hand on your shoulder. “Wait,” Fili breathed your name, “that came out wrong. All I meant is these rapscallions are the ones who have anything to be ashamed of. I’m sorry you have to deal with all that. Please let me make it up to you.” His blue eyes bore into yours, softening earnestly enough to earn him a nod from you. “Alright,” you agreed, “I understand. You were just trying to keep things light, we’ve all done it. What did you have in mind, then?” “Next time you feel nervous, think of me as your personal doll!” “I beg your pardon?” “How many years have I had this hairstyle? More than I can count! Let’s let some good come from those idle hands,” the blonde urged you with a smile, “and play around with each other’s hair instead. What say you?” Blast it- as if if you could ever resist that grin!

Kili

Frantic motions of your hands are interrupted by a softer touch, hands gently running over your scalp. “Care to talk or would you rather just sit?” Kili’s voice, a sound that rarely fails to bring a smile to your face, echoes behind you as he lowers your now-joined forms into a seated position upon an abandoned bedroll. The arm not reaching to your head, seemingly unashamed of the damage you’ve done that sometimes fuels your spirals, is wrapped firmly around your shoulders from the front to hold you against his chest. “I don’t mind either way as long as I’ve got you here.” “Then let us enjoy the silence,” you request quietly, internally fighting the part of you that struggles to accept the blessings you are given. “For as long as this lot’ll let us,” Kili snorts, but with that he presses a kiss to your forehead and continues holding you, fingers shifting to grab one of your hands as he soothes the itching patch of hair you’d been reaching for.

Bilbo

“Oh. Oh, dear, what’s the matter there?” He isn’t trying to make things worse and in fact he’ll get quite apologetic, but the hobbit has never seen such behavior so it raises legitimate, innocently blunt question. The shame, though, does not ease your spike of anxiety, leaving your hands shake with the pressure of both your trigger, your impulse, and the fight of it for fear of Bilbo’s judgment. Suddenly his hand is upon your shoulder. “It’s…a lot, isn’t it? I understand. Typically my go-to is to faint, but I can see why this lot would have you wanting to pull your hair out!” Weakly he swings his arm, clearly trying to joke you out of your state. Your brows furrow, such an unexpected reaction jarring some breaths back into your lungs. You are surprised again when Bilbo takes your hands. “You’re shaking…here, lie back a little, let’s talk, all right?” He listens, apologizes frantically for his ignorant comments, holds your hands still, running a thumb over the back of them.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @mossthebogwitch @kilibaggins @ibabblealot @joonies-word @stormchaser819 | Reply/Ask/Message to join!

[ofallthingsnasty]

What would croco and doffy do if you wanted to leave your job?

post referenced

tw. workplace harassment, mentions of mental illness, manipulation, yandere vibes, gn reader, minors dni

That's the thing in this scenario: They know damn well that you won't up and leave until something truly grave happens. That's how it is with depression/anxiety disorders (at least for me) - you won't change a single thing even if you fantasize about beating your forehead bloody on the work bathroom's sink every morning on your commute. It's all about slowly pushing your boundaries, even a fucking flashy bird like Doflamingo gets that. You're the frog in the pot and the heat is slowly increasing, you won't even notice just how bad things are turning until you're already gagging on Doflamingo's cock or being called 'sweetheart' by Crocodile. But early on, the other option - getting a new job, maybe quitting without another place lined up (because you see... it's hard to send out applications with the way they're working you to the bone... or at least that's what your tired brain tells you) - that is way more daunting than simply spending another week in that familiar hell, maybe even another month. You tell yourself that you'll brush up your CV during your week off - and then waste that week simply counting the days until you have to go back again, constantly torn between fretting and sleeping. Others would call you lazy and stupid, but it's how your unmedicated brain works; and they both know it, could smell it on you the moment you shuffled your starched shirt into that interview way back when.

Now, if Doflamingo played his cards wrong - and he forced you under the table too early, or if Crocodile laid into you with gusto and too much anger one day - yep, you'd leave. But both know that good things come to boys who wait; and in this case it's a malleable mess of a person, perfect to mold into whatever shape they desire. For Doflamingo, it's some simple psychological torture lunchtime fun, for Crocodile it's someone he can boss around for the rest of his life, a guaranteed little doll who'll only ever aim to please him. But that wasn't your question, was it? Let's say you have friends, maybe family who help you, who encourage you to leave and support you with everything you could ask for - that get you to finally put in your resignation. Oh. Oh. There will be hell to pay. You see, you don't ditch a man like Doflamingo just like that. He'll be furious, that carefully created, perfectly maintained facade of the cruel, calculated yet sunny big shot cracking to reveal the spoiled little boy he can be deep, deep down. He decides when you're done playing, not your sorry little ass who can't even raise your voice to tell the waitress she's brought you the wrong meal at the cheap fucking diner you eat in on Sundays. You don't get to have agency, you don't get to walk before he is done wiping the floor with you and laughing all the while. He'll give you acid, the wildest tongue lashing you've ever had in your life - and he'll make sure to get your name blacklisted, to have you crawling back into whatever shithole you came from or moving away entirely. He wants you ruined, he wants you desperate, he wants your name so encrusted in shit you'd have to get new skin to rid yourself of the stench. Only if you come back to him, tail shaking in between your mangy legs, then he'd consider forgiving you for ever having the gall to think that you're somehow on the same playing field, on the same level as him. And if you don't do just that because of your pathetic little support system - well, you better hope you never cross his path ever again. Crocodile won't be any less furious, his anger just takes on another form. You see, while his ego won't be as bruised by you putting in your two weeks - the stakes were higher for him. He wanted to keep you around, after all. And now you're slipping through his fingers, take your sad, wet eyes to another one who'll get to exploit them and play you for the perfect fool that you are. Oh, that won't do. Instead, he'll stun you with a counter offer: more money, less hours, hell, he'll give you a shitty gift card for some grocery store once a month; anything to keep you around. He'll break out into an entirely new direction, chooses to play the grumbly yet lovable boss all of a sudden. It's jarring. And it probably works because it's so bizarre. (Of course, he's still himself - he just figures he'll catch more flies with honey instead of vinegar and he can play pretend for a little while, can hide that arrogance and temper because he has a plan. In true Crocodile fashion, he'll be nice and let you off the hook for a little bit, letting you weigh yourself in a false sense of security.) He knows you were ready to leave once - now he has to step it up a notch before you'll truly pull the plug. And isn't a little office party where he'll feed you some spiked drinks and has you waking up in his bed the perfect move, then? A little bit of love-bombing, then putting a little bit of that pressure that made you crack before back on - it'll have your messed up little head spinning, feeling cornered and like a fish out of the water. It won't be his preferred way of doing things, sure, but he can't let you leave. It'll be so out of character, will blind you like a flash granade until you're suddenly stuck in that same old rut, only this time with a ring around your finger and your former boss in your bed.

[darkdarkstucky]

Enchanted, S. Rogers and C. Kent.

Summary: In a world where Omega's were scant and decent alpha's even more so, you think you're one in a million to be in a relationship with Alpha's who not only take care of your every whims and need, but also love and respect you unconditionally. However, your marital bliss of two years is interrupted by the concept of ‘true mates’.

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader x Clark Kent, Soft!Dark Clark x Reader, Soft!Dark Steve x Reader.

Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, Sexual Themes, Polyandry, M/F/M, Angst, Mentions of violence, Alpha x Omega, Ruts and Heats, Threesomes, Oral (F and M recieving), Eventual Soft!dark themes, Manipulation, Breeding Kink, DDLG themes, Graphic depictions of violence, Dark Themes.

A/N; Back with another WIP. Whoopdeedoo✨🫶 this was a lil fun something i wrote to overcome a really bad slump🥹 anyways!! say hi if you're here frens!! UNEDITED READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!

“Clark? Honey?” You call out to your husband who, seemed lost to the rest of the world as his eyes sought the words to whatever paperwork he was reading. Noting down the uncanny disarray of his home office, the strange feeling of unrest settled in the pit of your stomach once more.

There were piles of papers scattered aimlessly on his mahoganny desk, his recieving chairs were skewed at an angle you knew he'd find unsettling, and his coat aswell as a few trinkets were laying waste on the carpet altogether.

It was unlike Clark to let himself spiral into a such a state of disorder. If you knew anything, about your endearing husband; he had a severe case of OCD. Everything must have their own place, every nook and cranny accounted for and it reflected on his everyday life. His tailor made suits were always neatly pressed, his tie the perfect knot, his appearance was always put together and smart in fashion. There was nothing that could be flawed about Clark Kent; he was composed, as he was equally accomplished in his everyday life

But for the past few days, perhaps weeks now, you've noticed the nuances and shift in his demeanor. It was present in gaze, the way he spoke to you; as if he was evasive, guilty almost, but you didn't want to venture into that kind of thinking because your heart had hurt too much at the thought of one of your mates betraying you in such manner.

Clark and Steve would never hurt you in any way. The fact in itself was cemented into your very soul, because all throughout your three years of togetherness— two in marriage, they've bonded you to them in any way they could. Through the marks. Through paper. And most importantly; with their love and devotion.

For as long as you could remember, they have tirelessly and endlessly wooed you. There was not a single day that passed that you never felt special, what with their promise to court you and love you forever. And you've never doubted your husband, and you won't start to. Not when they have never given you any reason to.

“Honey?” You knocked on his door in order to get his attention, that seemingly effective, as he raised his head to look towards you.

“Sweetheart?” Clark was startled he failed to hear you or sense your presence, until you were all he could pay attention to. Your scent, the most beautiful fusion of pumpkin and vanilla, calmed his racing thoughts. His eyes raked over your form in a slow descent, admiration clear in his eyes, but his brows furrowed perceptively at your lack of footwear. “The floor is cold, come here.” He beckons with a slight reprimand to his tone.

Slowly, you walked towards him, rubbing your eyes to rid of any residual sleep. Within arms length, he pulled you down to his lap, arms instinctively wrapping around your smaller frame and pulling you to his chest. Nuzzling into his neck, you let out a satisfied chirp as you were flooded with the enticing scent of your alpha.

“I woke up and you were gone,” You murmur against his neck, voice tinged with sadness. Perhaps you had been spoiled with too much affection that you had become increasingly reliant on their presence— Now, due to the nature of their work and constant travelling, both Clark and Steve had made it so, one or the other if not both should always be with you. This notion was followed to a T which satisfied all parties involved, so you were quite sensitive when it wasn't.

“I know, i'm sorry sweetheart.” Clark coaxed you gently, his voice no louder than a whisper that tickled your ears. “I had a few paperworks that i final review before i sign on it,”

“Can i stay with you?” You bit your lower lip anxiously and stared at him through your lashes. “I'll behave. I just really missed you.” your voice was soft and pliant as you pleaded.

Clark felt the lump in his throat again. The feelings he was repressing all coming down in a defeaning crash onto him. He was confronted with the fact of his neglect towards you with the days past. Clark knows that you may be growing suspicious, and for good reason, yet not one he was strong enough to admit yet. He wanted to say it. To blurt it out, but to admit it out loud would shatter all of his formerly built pretense. Instead, he hugged you tighter, hopefully translating all his love and affection towards it.

“I love you so much, tesoro.” He utters with conviction, “More than my own life.” you felt his head dip, and your foreheads touch. You were suddenly awashed with various emotions, and you swallowed down the questions you wanted to ask.

Although the confession was abrupt, it didn't stop you from echoing the sentiment. “I love you more.” you whisper. “more than my own life.” you repeated.

His grip on you tightened, if possible. As if he was holding onto you for dear life, to which you tried to ease him with gentle touches and tender caress all over his body. You pressed butterfly kisses all over the side of his face, whispering words of assurance to your husband.

“Everything will be alright, my love.”

Clark desperately wanted it to be true.

•••

The next morning, you woke up alone. There was no sign of Clark, as you approached the first floor after showering and getting dressed. Only the staff were present bustling around to do their respective duties.

“When did Clark leave?” You asked the housekeeper.

“At around five, ma'am.” She answers, and you thanked her before heading towards the dining.

As you sat, you were immediately served with breakfast, but you lacked the appetite to even pick up your spoon. Just thinking about your husband's strange behavior had your mind in a talispin, listing out possibilities of what you could have done; was it something you had done? were they disappointed with you? what if they had finally had it with your inability to—

“Hey, doll face!” Natasha barged into the room, successfully interrupting your thoughts. “Mind if i have breakfast with you? Bucky's gone and i'm too lazy to cook for myself.” Before you could answer, she plopped down to a seat and was served with cutlery much like you were.

Her morning visits were as frequent as could be which is why the staff were always quick. More often than not, anyways, it was Natasha you had breakfast with, due to her living close by and her husband Bucky being Steve's bestfriend and work associate. Needless to say, Natasha frequented your estate, and you were as closest to a friend as you could be.

“Hey, doll face.” She tilts her head, “Call me a bitch, but i think you look evidently upset over something.”

“I'm fine, nat. And please, lay off with the crude vocabulary at such an early day.” you reply amusedly, trying to play it off.

“It's okay, i'm insured.” She whips out a few dollar bills and left it at the table, the action was almost like a second nature to her seeing as she was a regular patron at the curse jar. “But you, my dear, seem awfully upset over something. What is it? What is a problem, that your overbearing husbands can't fix? You know you just blink wrong and Rogers and Kent would break the bones of some unassuming bastard.” She wiggles her eyebrows inriguingly.

You couldn't help but shake your head, contemplating for a moment wether you should tell another soul; a close one to both you and your husband about what your sneaking suspicion.

What if she thought you were just paranoid? Or laugh in your face? Or instead—

“Hey,” Nat calls out to you softly. “You don't have to tell me, immedieately. Or at all. But i'm here, and available if you feel like sharing.” she assures you, sincerity dripping from her tone while you visibly deflate.

“It's gonna sound stupid.” you sigh. “b-but.. but i think they're hiding something.”

“who?” the confusion was geniune.

“Steve and Clark.” you utter once you find your voice again, reaching for the glass of water once you felt your mouth go dry at finally saying it out loud.

“Why do you think so?” she asks carefully.

“Maybe i'm sensitive..” trailing off you looked down at your lap, “but i, i just feel it, nat. The way they speak to me, neither of them can barely maintain proper eye contact for more than a minute. They're very brief, almost cryptic when they talk. They're always out, and we barely see eachother— it terrifies me.” blinking away the tears, you look up.

“Oh darling,” She hushes, pulling you into a hug while you choked on a sob.

“I'm so scared Nat.” you whimper, tucking your chin into her shoulder. “'m so scared i'm gonna lose my alphas.”

“I know for certain that's never going to happen, dollface.” natasha says earnestly, while you let the tears flow.

[c1phyb4ra]

Ghost HC's (SFW & NSFW)

【Hi! It's my first time posting my writing on Tumblr, so apologies for any mistakes in consistency. I'm learning to navigate and format my work. Thank you for your patience <3】

☆My personal angst to comfort headcannons on how Ghost would be in a relationship with you despite all the trauma and suffering he's lived through. I will mark where the NSFW starts if you don't want to read that. My requests are open so go nuts, I'll try my best to do yours :3☆

CW: [For Ghost's past/current struggles] disordered eating habits, paranoia, panic attacks, abuse, gn reader. [For nsfw] praise, body worship, oral reader receiving, gn + afab reader.

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

► He had such a rough childhood, living with an abusive father so he's developed a habit of treating you like glass, always worried he'd do something to hurt you.

► Intense insomniac. He's used to not sleeping much due to having to keep an eye out for enemies. He refuses to take sleeping pills out of fear of sleeping through something bad happening. The best you can do is get him to lay with you while you play with his hair. That way he might be able to get at least a few hours of sleep.

► Also struggles with nightmares. He'll hold you tightly in his sleep while mumbling. If he wakes up though, he'll excuse himself to the restroom to calm down before going back to bed. He'll let you spoon him as he tried to go back to sleep again.

► Simon always wears some form of facial covering, having become accustomed to keeping his face hidden. It's like he can't get rid of his Ghost persona when he's just supposed to be Simon.

► Refuses to talk about his work besides his squad mates, such as Soap or Gaz. He hates involving his work with his lover. He wants to have a very firm barrier between those. He can't risk his violent job getting mixed into his domestic life with you.

► When you go out for any reason (whether it be date night or grocery shopping) he's always armed. Always. He keeps a gun on him and has an extra one strapped to his boot along with a couple of knives strapped to the other one. He's very paranoid about being attacked.

► His body has become so accustomed to fight or flight mode that he tends to get very anxious and dizzy. Sometimes he'll get intense panic attacks so he'll shut himself in the bathroom to try and calm himself down. He isolates himself out of fear of burdening or overwhelming you.

► You have to remind him that as his partner, you want to be there for him when he's struggling. He tries to go to you when he's not feeling the best but sometimes he just can't bring himself to do so so he'll shut down in the bedroom and just pace.

► He has a bad habit of skipping meals because he feels the need to punish his body for not being good enough to prevent all the death he sees on the field. Although sometimes when you cook he'll skip them because he feels that he doesn't deserve to eat what you made for him. You'll have to sit and coax him into eating, and sometimes feed him by hand.

[NSFW FROM HERE ON, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.]

► It took him a long time to feel comfortable with the idea of sex. He always worried about not being able to please you, or being too rough. He knows he's strong enough to take down multiple enemy soldiers simultaneously, so he's afraid that he might be too rough with just you there.

► He's very gentle with you, always being careful and asking you if you're alright.

► He loves praise and reassurance. He always prioritizes your pleasure first and loves when you tell him that he's doing good at that. Call him sweet pet names like 'darling, lovie, baby, sweetheart.'

► You called him a good boy once because he helped you put away groceries. That turned him on so painfully much that as soon as all the perishables were out away, he bent you over the counter and fucked you.

► He gets more turned on when he eats you out than when you blow him. He's obsessed with the feeling of your arousal coating his lips and chin. The noises you make combined with the way you taste so sweet to him has him cumming in his pants. Making you cum multiple times from just his tongue feels so validating to him.

► He also secretly likes how your pubes tickle his nose when he plays with your clit. He loves how natural your body is, and is obsessed with every part of it.

► He also really likes how his cum covers your tummy and pubes, seeing you covered in his essence makes this feel more real, like he's really there lovingly fucking his sweet partner.

► As tame as it may seem, he really loves missionary. There's something so hot about him being able to see your face as he makes you feel good.

► He likes to use toys on you that maximize your pleasure, like holding a vibrator to your puffy little clit while he fucks you.

► He goes feral for hickeys. Loves seeing the purple bruises in the shape of your mouth all over his body after a night of passionate loving. He's obsessed with being marked by you.

► Body worship. Giving and receiving. That's his SHIT. He loves telling you how good you look, how beautiful your body is, how fucking well you take his massive cock.

► He loves to trace any scars/stretch marks, it's relaxing to touch and kiss those parts of your body that are unique to you.

► Loves wrapping his hands around your waist or placing them on your hips. Helps him be able to reach deeper spots in you, pleasing you in ways that make you see stars.

► Once you're done, he cleans you up with a warm wet washcloth and kisses any bruises he might leave. He makes sure you pee too because he'd hate for you to get an infection because of him. Once you're all cleaned up he'll bring you water or a snack. Unless you want to just cuddle. He'll hold you closely to him, your bodies melting together so comfortably.

⦅𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔!⦆

[moodywyrm]

hi mooney!

i just wanted to share my thoughts on abby n chubby reader (this was definitely NOT based on personal experience or anything) uhm, maybe slight trigger warning for implying an eating disorder?

maybe abby took reader out for lunch or something n absentmindedly said something about reader eating a big meal, (ex. "baby, you sure you're gonna eat all that?") not even meaning it in a bad way but reader thinking abby's suggesting she eat a little less, so reader just loses her appetite and goes kinda silent n doesn't say anything for the rest of lunch cs it reminds her of things her exes have said abt her; abby jus thinking she's sleepy, it goes on for like a couple days n abby getting worried cs her girl is eating less than usual n it's starting to affect her, like reader being more silent, slightly shaking a bit cs of how little she's eating n sleeping more cs her not eating is leading to less energy n it's jus reader falling back into how she used to treat herself before she met abby

abby finally decides to confront reader n reader jus letting the flood gates open n SOBBING to abby about how she thinks abby doesn't love her anymore n how she's sorry for eating so much n just saying how she's trying to get rid of the weight by not eating as much to get her body used to it.

abby is absolutely SHOCKED n confused on why her sweet angel is doing this n when reader explains what abby said, abby jus feels so bad n gives reader the best comfort n reassuring her that she meant nothing by it ["baby i swear! i didnt know :( jus didn't want you getting a tummy ache cs you ate a big breakfast too but i didnt mean you should stop taking care of yourself! :(( ] n abby jus making all of reader's favorite foods n making sure her girl is gettin all her nutrients n stuff in n jus being super comforting by letting reader cry some more n stuff

sorry if this is so long, jus had this thought bobbing around my head n needed to share it with someone :( feel free to get to this anytime ♡︎ hope you're having an amazing day/night

(also, could i be 💌 or 🐇 anon?)

TW: disordered eating, internalized fatphobia + hatred

hi baby! 1) imma choose 💌 bc it's so cute! 2) I'll say it, I have had this experience before (though admittedly without the sweet masc to help me out), so let's go! of course, trigger warning for disordered eating and general discomfort around food and body image. if you can't or don't want to read that, avoid this. avoid it like the plague.

it all started with a comment. you and abby were having brunch after class, as a treat for you having just submitted a huge assignment. and you're starving! you had no time before class to eat, and then your class was an eighty minute chunk. so you're so hungry, and you order a full meal, a smoothie plus a California club and sides! grapefruit, onion rings, fries. (obviously if you have any allergies or preferences, just imagine it's something else for this. the actual food isn't critical to the plot). and when you tell the server your order and they leaves, Abby turns to you and says "You gonna eat all of that, baby?"

and of course she doesn't mean it in a shamey, how-could-you-eat-all-of-that way. she meant it in a can-you-eat-all-of-that-without-getting-a-tummy-ache way. but that's not how it registered. and it makes you feel sick, even when you answer "maybe I'll just take the leftovers"

you definitely end up taking the leftovers, because you get maybe two bites into the sandwich, nibbling on the sides, and decide to just finish the smoothie. you have basically your entire meal untouched, and abby gets full off her own meal, so you have two containers of leftovers to take home, which makes you feel so shitty. and you can hear every negative voice in your head rise up, from family members to peers to exes, everyone who ever fatshamed you and made you feel wrong for trying to nourish your body.

you're quiet all the way home, quiet for days after. abby just assumes you're tired, knowing that you have a lot of school work. and partly, she's right. you are tired. you're fuckign exhausting because you're eating maybe one meal a day, (not) sustaining yourself on coffee and water, doing all of your assignments with no energy whatsoever. and you're fighting yourself, not knowing how to bring it up to abby. that it's not because of what she said, she didn't mean it, but it kind of is because of what she said. and it hurts so fucking bad. so yeah, you're exhausted.

it all comes to a head when you're sitting, kneeling, in front of your mirror, doing your makeup or just getting ready, and when you stand up, you nearly pass out. you're so lightheaded, slamming your hand out to the wall, trying not to fall over. your vision swims, and you try to stabilize yourself. abby, who was sitting at her desk, immediately gets up, practically flying to you and holding you up.

"shit, baby, are you okay?" and she sounds so concerned, you fucking break. the tears are so fast, you don't stand a chance at stopping them. you're standing there, sobbing, and abby is terrified. because she doesn't know why. so she gently guides you over the bed, still crying, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and trying to get you to a state where you can talk.

it takes about fifteen minutes, but you get there, still crying, still hiccuping out sobs, but at least somewhat intelligible.

"I just. I know you didn't mean it to be mean. But last week, at the restaurant, when you asked if I was gonna eat all of the food and-" You can't keep talking because it all floods back to you and you're crying again, clinging to abby like a lifeline, chest hurting from the sobs. But now Abby gets it. She remembers what she said and she figures out how it might've sounded and now she feels like shit. Because she never wanted to hurt you, but intent doesn't matter right now because she did hurt you.

"I'm so sorry baby. I didn't mean to say it like that, and I'm so sorry my words hurt you. I'm so sorry I hurt you. I only asked because I didn't want your stomach to hurt, but I should have worded it so much better. I never, ever, want you to feel guilty about eating, or anything, with me."

You're still crying, still clinging to her, but trying to get the words out. "It's okay baby, I should've" hiccup "should've talked to you, told you how I felt but I just froze" hiccup "and I was so scared you would think I was gross, so I stopped eating so much but that didn't help anything-" and again, you're crying so hard your head hurts, and now Abby is crying, sniffling, trying to hide it because this is about you and she knows if you hear her crying you'll worry about her. So she presses a kiss to your head, rubbing her hands up and down your back.

"I wish you would have talked to me, but I know it's scary and hard and it's so easy in theory. But I'm so sorry I made you feel like you couldn't talk to me. I will always be here for you, baby, always." and when she here's you whisper out a small "I love you", she hauls you into her lap. You're still crying, because you need to let it out, but Abby doesn't move a fucking inch, holding you for as long as you need.

Once you've calmed down enough to move to the couch, Abby gets to work cooking you your favorite meal, trying not to overload you with so much ood that'll make your tummy hurt, but trying to give you a good, balanced dinner after a week of hurt. Sitting at the kitchen island, watching you eat pasta with some lingering trepidation but an overwhelming amount of trust on your face, she would never trade that moment for anything, Abby knows that, for the rest of her life, she wants to take care of you. Wants you to live a life where food isn't pain or punishment, and you're allowed to nourish yourself and enjoy food when you want to.

[jakeysbuttsheeks]

Dancing with your ghost.

Warnings : mentions of Ed , mental disorders, anorexia, alcohol use , crying, sobbing, angst , fluff , cringe but I need to cry , grammar mistakes, etc .

Parings: Jake X reader

Another day of frustration as you throw your front door open after fighting with the lock .

Just when you thought your day couldn't get any worse , the first thing you smelt when you entered your apartment was Jake .

You tried everything to get rid of him from your life . But nothing could remind you more about him that your house where the two of you stayed for years .

He dumped you over text . You had been arguing with him for not making time for you when he was on tour and you assumed he got high with his brothers that night and decided to text you and end it all .

You blocked him on everything and gave him no way did him to contact you . But you did wait for him to come back home everyday after that, and he never did .

Everyday you came home you wished your door was already unlocked to find Jake inside , ready to get back together but he never came .

It started to tell yourself he actually meant it when he dumped you and didn't just say it because he was drunk . The thought pained you.

There wasn't one day where you didn't cry yourself to sleep and wonder if he ever missed you or just moved on . In your head you were still his and no one else's.

You stood at the entrance of your apartment, staring blankly at the lifeless living room . Jake gave it the light and now that he was gone , every started to give out.

You couldn't help the gut wrenching sob that choked out of you as you began sobbing unconditionally. You were tired of not being able to get over him as easy as he did . You wish you hated him but you loved him more than anything. Everything would be so easy if you just hates him .

The dismal events of your day also led to your breakdown. You decided to treat yourself to numb out the pain . Drinking yourself to sleep was an alternative to crying yourself to sleep .

You sat balled up on the couch with the neck of a huge bottle of jack Daniels in your fist . You took a sip ever few seconds, replaying all the moments you and Jake had had .

This one time when you gifted him a vinyl and he loved it so much he would play it every evening and force you to dance with him .

You startled up when you realise you still had that vinyl somewhere and you hadn't played it since Jake left .

You hurry your way to find it in the mess of your house . Digging through some old papers and files you had lying around and looking through all your other vinyls .

You start to cry again in frustration when you couldn't find it until you realised it must've still been in the record player.

You head over to it and find the vinyl still there in the record player collecting dust . You take it off and wipe it before hurriedly putting it back , cranking up the volume before turning it on .

It only broke you down even more . Your remembered this one time you really didn't feel like dancing but Jake pulled you into his arms and swayed you to the song , kissing your cheek and talking to you with his lips pressed against your ear .

You could almost feel him holding you and guiding your body to sway to the music as you stood empty in the middle of the room with tear streaming down your face .

The room was spinning and you knew you were really drunk. You trip over to your phone and grab it , falling down on your knees by the couch as you open your phone .

You unblocked Jake's contact and immediately called him , your brain foggy and you didn't even realise the extent of what you were doing ,calling him after almost a year.

"fuck you" you scoff as you toss your phone back into the couch when he didn't answer.

You rested your upper body against the couch , your eyes heavy as you started to pass out , until you phone started buzzing.

"oh fuck" you look at your screen to see 'jakey' calling you .

You let it buzz as you stared at it , your thumb grazing over the answer button, just itching just to hear his voice just once .

You didn't even know when you had answered the call . You were started by Jake's voice faintly helloing out . You turn the phone on speaker and you hear him again , loud and clear.

"hello?" He called out . You tried to swallow a sob , hoping he wouldn't hear it but he definitely did .

"y|n?" He said, his voice went soft when he heard you cry . You couldn't bring yourself to speak .

"a-are you alright? Do you need help?" Jake speaks , he was worried you could tell by his voice.

You immediately cut the call and finally cry out the sobs you'd been holding in . You thought hearing his voice would help but it only made the hole in your heart bigger .

The phone buzzed again and again. You decided to pick up the third time and turned the phone on speaker again .

"y|n? Are you there?" He sounded more panicked.

"jake-" you choke out he immediately recognises you were just high and you weren't in any trouble of any sort.

"are you okay?" He still asks anyway.

"why'd you go away Jake?" You ask , your voice tearful.

"I'm still your girl" you continue knowing he didn't have an answer.

"baby-" Jake's voice strains, seeming to break down at your words .

"do you really not love me anymore?" You slur , your eyes staring to get heavy again as you play with the fibres of your couch .

"not even a little bit? Not at all?" You ask.

"I will always love you, even if I never see you again" Jake says and you pause everything.

"what the fuck does that mean!?" You yell . If Jake actually still loved you why did he never come back ?

"you know what it means" Jake says , his voice sounded heavy .

"then why did you leave me!? Why did you never come back and leave me to think-!?" You scream but Jake interrupts you.

"because I made a mistake! I thought we would never work and I still don't think we will!" He answers.

"but I can't seem to want anything more than to just be with you again" he continues.

"and when you blocked me and cut all contact I thought you didn't want me to come back- i- I thought you wanted me gone" he explained as you stayed quiet and listened.

"I miss you so much jakey i-" you couldn't finish your sentence as you continue to cry .

"oh baby" Jake's heart clenched and he wishes he was with you just as much as you wanted him to be with you .

"I miss you too y|n. So much" he speaks , his voice trembles with an exasperated sigh of sadness . He sounds like he's on the very of tears and it only makes you cry harder .

"come home" you sniffle, your tears seeping into the couch .

"I am honey I am. I got into the car as soon as you called I thought something had happened to you" Jake spoke and you immediately picture him drive to you while he talked to you the entire time.

You could believe what you were hearing. Jake was actually coming over ? He was already on his way? He still loved you ? This had to be some sick dream .

It wasn't long till you slowly passed out with your upper body lying on the couch , still kneeing in the floor , unable to keep your consciousness any longer .

You were woken when you felt strong hands scoop you up by your underarms , temporarily bringing you to your feet before carrying you up.

"Jake?" You speak in a daze . Still wondering if it all was a dream or if you were just going completely out of your mind .

"I'm here baby it's me" Jake speaks and you can hear him , loud and clear , his scent and his warm body . You couldn't be dreaming it felt too real .

You could barely keep your eyes open as he set you down into your bed. You barely caught a glimpse of his silhouette bending down to you . You wished your weren't so drunk.

The last thing you could interpret was his fingers intertwined with yours and all you could do was squeeze his hand before you were gone. Passed out cold .

You woke up frantic, turning around in your bed to find it empty and cold. What kind of sick joke was your mind playing on your for you dream of something so real.

Tears pricked your eyes and your head spun from your hangovers and the remains of the 'dream' you had .

The room door suddenly opened with Jake walking in with a cup in his hand . He stopped in his tracks when he saw the expression you had on your face like you'd just seen a ghost .

So it wasn't a dream then?

He just stood there waiting for you to say something with a worried face but you were in tears wondering if you were going out of your mind to the point that you were imagining him .

"do you want me to leave?" Jake asks nervously. The expression you had probably gave him the wrong impression.

"what? No-!" You answer rapidly.

"okay" he sighed , a smile almost forming on his face. "I thought you were just drunk last night and didn't mean to call me over" he continued.

"I thought I was dreaming" you speak and his shoulders drop . You didn't know they were tensed up until he dropped them and walked over to you .

"that's understandable. You were passed out drunk on your knees by the couch with our song blasting on the record player when I reached" Jake sat down on the side of your bed , turning at you . You frowned , not remembering being on the floor .

"I made you coffee" he hands it to you but you don't take it from him . You can see he gets hurt from the look in his eyes but he tried to hide it .

"I'm guessing your anorexia is back" he asks , resting the cup on his lap as he looks down at it .

"I just don't feel like having coffee" you say apologetically.

"since when do you lie to me?" He turns at you .

"there's nothing in your refrigerator or pantry . Nothing in your cabinets either . Not even a cereal box" Jake speaks .

"I- I was supposed to restock today" you explain and he sets the coffee cup down on your side table and shifts himself on the edge of the bed , facing you with his palm on your knee.

"let's go shopping then" he says . He knows you're lying. He didn't want to push it if you weren't comfortable.

"okay" you nod and he reaches for your hand and squeezes it .

"do you remember what we spoke about?" He asks. "On the phone" he elaborates.

You pause to think back , trying to remember what exactly you had said to eachother .

Vaguely you remember the excitement of hearing his voice . But it was a blur . You just knew he said exactly what you wished to hear from him . But you don't remember what he said exactly or what you told him .

"I still love you y|n" he sighs, like he wished he didn't. "I always will" he adds .

"I'll always loved you too Jake" your voice cracks as you suddenly remember Jake telling you he missed you over the phone.

"I should've come home to you. But I didn't because I thought-" he stops mid sentence and looks into your eyes. "I'm so sorry y|n" he breaks down and it makes you emotional .

You immediately pulled him into a hug and he wrapped his arms around you tightly as you caressed his hair and felt his body shudder as he cried softly.

"it's okay" your chest ached . His body was warm and his hair smelt fresh . His embrace was euphoria , it was the only place you wanted to be.

"ahh" jake let out an embarassed groan as he lifted his face off your shoulder and wiped his eyes "I'm sorry" he breaths , apologizing for crying.

"it's okay" you soothe , petting his hair as your own heart breaks watching him cry .

"I'm sorry too Jake. I wasn't a good girlfriend. I didn't trust you and I fought with you all the time and you didn't deserve that" you start and he just stares at you .

"but" you look down nervously "I realised that now , and I would do anything to go back and do it all differently and have a more mature approach to things" you finish and then look back at him and his eyes are still on you . You couldn't read the expression he had on his face tho .

"unless it's too late" you say as your body tensed when Jake didn't say anything.

"are you saying to want to get back together?" Jake asks , like he just processed what you had said.

You nervously nod and his hand moves to your face, rubbing a tear from your cheek with his thumb as he cups your face before tucking your hair behind your ear.

"I'd like that too" he confesses , suppressing his feeling of overwhelm.

You smile uncontrollably, though the sad expression still on your face as his eyes fall to your lips before leaning in . You press your lips against his and gently kiss him as the world around you crumbles. He almost made you forget if you ever loved anyone else. You didn't think you could love anyone else after Jake anyway.

You feel his fingers gently hold the back of your neck , seeping up onto your scalp . You can feel the blood rushing to your face and your heart thumping so hard it made you giddy. You were sure you were red as a tomato. But more , you were at the tip of your cup with overwhelm.

He breaks the kiss by resting his forehead against yours "oh I've missed you" he breaths, his eyes still closed as he recovers from the kiss.

"don't leave again" you say could help the tears as you held him tight and he opened his eyes and looked at you , his forehead still against yours. You could feel his energy.

"never" he responds, noticing your tears and lifts his forehead off yours and pressed his lips right under you eye , and then doing the same for the other , kissing away your tears .

You couldn't help it tho . Jake's embrace, his voice, his scent , his lips , his touch. Everything overwhelmed you .

"I promise" he adds , a murmur to himself as he pulls you into him , you buried your face into his neck and wrapped your arms around his waist as he swayed you slightly, coaxing you to feel better.

[call-me-a-simp]

Heal My Wounds

Confessions (part 10)

Rhea Ripley x Reader

Tw: physical and sexual abuse, toxic relationship, selfharm, eating disorder

Summary: You are in a toxic relationship with an abusive man but manage to run away. A tall, black haired woman picks you up from the streets just in time so your ex doesn't get you. But who is she and why does she seem so familiar to you? As you get to know each other you start to notice weird feelings you never had before whenever she's around.

~fast forward two weeks~

You're sitting on the couch scrolling through your Instagram as you hear the door being unlocked and opened.

"Hey, I'm back" Rhea shouts. "Hii" you reply. You get up and enter the hallway to greet her. "How was your day?" "As always" she brushes it off.

"How was your's? Did you finally leave the house on your own?" she chuckles. You playfully hit her and you both laugh.

"I'll take that as a no" "Admit it you just want to get rid of me" you tease her. "Definitely not, but we still gotta talk" she replies, leaving you a bit concerned.

You follow her into the living room where Rhea is already sitting on the couch. "Dont worry it nothing serious" she chuckles as she sees you face.

You relax a little and sit down facing her. "I wanted to talk about what you plan for your future. Like, getting a job, maybe your own apartment.. Now, don't get me wrong, I don't mind you living here with me, I like having a roommate, really. It's just something I've been thinking about lately."

You look down on your lap fidgeting with you fingers. She's lying, she doesn't want you here. You're a burden! Your mind tells you.

Demi takes your hands in hers gently stroking them. "I mean it y/n, I like having you here don't worry about that" she calms you down.

You smile, "to be honest, I don't know what I want to do with my future.. I don't even know how to interpret my own feelings.."

"What do you mean by that?" Rhea asks. You sigh "there's someone I really like, I just don't know if it's in a platonic or romantic kind of way.."

"Ooh, do I know him?" Rhea smirks. You feel your cheeks getting red. "Naw, you're blushing. Is it.. Damian? She teases you.

" What? No.. I mean, he's a nice guy and everything but.. uh, never mind.." you say and get up. "Hey no wait. It does mind!" Demi pouts.

You pretend you didn't hear her and make your way to the bedroom. "Y/n! Come back here!" she shouts and runs after you.

"y/n!" she throws you onto the bed and turns you around so you look at her. She places herself on top of you and holds your wrists over your head just like you once did with her.

"Tell me now" she pouts and you laugh. "Fine.." you sigh "I won't tell you exactly who it is but.. It's not a.. him.." Rhea looks at you confused.

"Wait.. So it's a.. Girl?" you blush and nod. Rhea squeals from excitement "do I know her?" she asks full of enthusiasm.

"I will not comment on that" you say. "Ooh so I do" Rhea gets even more excited. She releases your wrists and sits upright on your hips.

You lean on your elbows to lift your torso off the bed and grin at her. It takes her a moment to realize but then it hits her like a brick on the head.

"Do- You mean me?!" "Of course I do, stupid!" you laugh before getting serious again.

"Listen Rhea, I know it might make you uncomfortable now, regarding the fact that you're straight and we sleep in the same bed at night and everything and-"

You're cut off by her kissing you on the lips. God how can someone have such soft lips! You're surprised but quickly return the kiss.

Demi pulls away and looks you in the eyes. "Remember when we were cuddling in bed and I told you I really liked you?" you nod "that's what I meant" she says and kisses you again passionately.

She cupped your cheeks earlier and you wrap your arms around her waist and torso pulling her closer. She deepens the kiss and a soft moan escapes your lips making her smile.

Oh my God how can somebody be this perfect. You both pull away to catch your breath and smile at one another. "I love you Demi" you breathe out. "I love you too y/n"

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

And here's part 10 :) Let me now your suggestions etc and if you wanna be featured in the taglist

Taglist: @babybatlover @legit9thlunaticwarrior @thatonepansexual2000

[storiesandthingsofthatnature]

You Can Cry If You Want To

Summary: You made a promise to yourself long ago that you would never cry again. However, unhealthy coping mechanisms lead to even worse ones. However, Leon is here for you

Word Count: 1.6K

Pairing: RE4! Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of self-harm, cursing, a single slap that was heard around the world, ummmm, that's it? Do let me know tho!

Disclaimer: Nothing to report :3

A/N: So I'm back again but with something fluffier this time uwu Have a comfort fic :3 I'm probably going to add a rules thingy to my blog and pin it to the top soon so be sure to look out for that if you wanna ask me to write anything for you! :D

Anyways, enjoy!

Being in this line of work you have to come to terms with the fact that you’re going to carry some heavy weight. From the deaths of your teammates to a failed mission that ultimately led to casualties. Not every task ended with a happy ending; human miscalculation and error will always be a consequence. But that wasn’t what bothered you today. No, this was a battle that you had been fighting ever since you could remember; mental illness. 

You had bi polar disorder - an illness that has caused a lot of strife in your life. You had hoped that enlisting into the secret service would be more than enough to distract you from your personal qualms but it just seemed to make it worse. However, jumping out now would just fuck you over financially and you weren’t sure just how long it would take to dig yourself out of that hole. So, you grinned and bore it. In front of your superiors, in front of your colleagues, and especially, in front of Leon. 

Leon Kennedy was a man of high regard and well respected amongst his peers. You were no exception. It was always an honor to work with Leon and a mission became more secure when he was around. But with constant contact comes welling feelings and you couldn’t stop yours from appearing. It was a slow burn, a small cinder that slowly grew into a healthy flame that now resided deep within your chest only for Leon. You could never tell him, however. You were sure that he had someone outside of work and that you were no way in league with him. So, you just let your feelings fester, an unhealthy way of trying to rid yourself of this puppy crush. 

And with unhealthy coping mechanisms comes unhealthy actions - you hurting yourself. You weren’t doing it because of Leon, but the added stress of possible unrequited love was enough to overturn the teetering table that was your fluctuating moods. It always started the same, your manic episodes; you become quiet yet violent to where you go on a small rampage. After you nearly demolish the area around you, you just sit down and sob. 

After a certain amount of time, you made yourself a promise that you would never have such an episode again. And, right before you entered the service, you started your streak. Through all of the shit and harsh training, you never broke your self promise. How embarrassing would it be to shut down like that in front of your team anyway? Especially Leon. 

You could never let them know about this side of you. But because of this you were left with a single, toxic mechanism which was cutting into your arms. You felt lucky that you could wear long sleeves with your uniform but you also wore bandages so as no dirt or sweat could get into the wounds. You craved the pain but you still wanted your arm. 

Lately, though, you were becoming quite sick. Due to your stress your stomach was beginning to twist in an agonizing way and migraines were becoming normal. One day, you couldn’t go in at all. You called in and practically begged for a day off. Of course you were to be given harsher exercises to make up for it but you were let off for the day. You could sob from the relief. You settle deeper into your bed and try to sleep off the pain that your body encapsulated. 

 However, a little under an hour later you heard a frantic knock at your door. You give an annoyed groan and throw off your covers with such force that they fell to the other side. You stomped to the front door of your apartment and you swung the door open with no regard to your bare arms. You were just so tired and sick that you just wanted to be left alone. You wanted to get this encounter over with and go back to bed. But your heart sank to your knees, your sharp tongue catching in your throat. Leon Kennedy was standing in front of your door and your brain was trying to process why the fuck he was here. 

“Leon?..W-what are you…?” You begin to say but stop completely at Leon’s expression. He looked intense, very contrasting to the worried look that was etched on his face when you opened the door.  “Y/N…” He said it in a way that sounded surprised yet heartbroken. You raise an eyebrow at him but when you follow his gaze you see what he noticed; your scars. You go to hide them but Leon’s calloused fingers enclosed around your wrist. “Why?” He wasn’t going to ask you the question of what this was. He knew but he just wanted to know why. 

You hide your eyes behind your hair, unable to look at him. “It doesn’t matter-” “Yes it fucking does!” He didn’t mean to sound so enraged but you were obviously lost in some sort of self depriving darkness and he wanted to know how or why so that he could fix it. But you didn’t want anything to be fixed. Everything was fine as it was, why couldn’t he see that? “Why are you here, Leon?” You ask and the expense of tiredness was evident in your heavy-lidded eyes and Leon’s heart clenched. Have you even been sleeping?

“You never miss a day of training. I wanted to make sure that you were alright.” He explained himself and you sigh. “Well, you see that I’m alright so-” You gesture for him to move back so that you could close the door but he kept his foot on the threshold. “We’re not done here.” He practically growled at you and your sanity was beginning to crack. “Leon, please. I do not have the energy for this.” You rub at your temples, your love for his caring nature now a jab in your side this time around.

He scoffed at you,”Right. And then the next time we talk about it you’ll come up with another excuse - no. We’re talking about this now.” He said as he tried to make his way in. However, you felt something deep within your mind snap and you slapped Leon. He reared back in shock, holding the side of his face that you struck. “I’M FINE, DAMNIT! WHY CAN’T YOU SEE THAT?!” You yelled, a familiar sensation welling up behind your eyes. “Leon please, just go.” You turn on your heel to hide your face, frantically wiping at your eyes to try and coax your body to stop and not betray your promise. 

“Damn it, it won’t stop.” You sniffled, your guard down. You hadn’t noticed that Leon had come up behind you, grabbing your waist as he slid into your apartment with you. “Leon! Let me go!” You struggle but then he sits criss crossed in front of your sofa. He places you in his lap, encaging you in the softest hug you had ever had the pleasure of receiving. “Oh.” You say in surprise from the gentleness and what Leon said next shocked you. “Cry.” You blink once and make a sound of confusion. “You’re not okay, [y/n]. And your body needs to get it out and you’re not letting it. Please. Cry.” He brought your head against his bicep, you subconsciously clinging to his shirt. 

“I don’t….I don’t…Need..to..” You try to reason with him but you feel the first few hot drops fall down your face. Your last line of defense was biting your lip but your whimpers were far too powerful. You let out a small sob which then transitioned into a symphony of wails. Your grip tightens on Leon and you shove your face into his shirt as you let out years of bottled up emotion. And he held you tightly, rubbing soft circles into your back as he threads his other hand through your hair. 

You cried for a little while, but sobs turned into sniffles which led to you passing out. Your body had finally let out everything and now just needed rest. Crystal drops lined your eyelashes as you slept in Leon’s arms, your reddened cheeks and nose leftover from your crying. 

Leon stayed sitting for a while, not wanting to disturb you. But once he felt that you were deep in sleep he rose in place and found your room. He laid you out on your bed, having pulled back the covers to tuck you in. After you were snug as a bug, he hesitated in place. He felt like the respectful thing would be to leave but he didn’t want to go. But, his mind was made when he felt your hand grip his. “Stay?” You ask, your voice a little heavy with strain. 

Leon smiled and nodded. “For as long as you want me to.” He says and you give a smile of your own. “I fear you may never have another day to yourself again then.” You lightly joke but hope that he would receive it in favor. “Is that a threat, [L/N]?” He teased back as he climbed into bed next to you and pulled you into his embrace. When your scars were in view, he would gently leave ghost kisses behind along the raised bumps and you felt yourself falling in love all over again. He was so scared that he would hurt you, but he still wanted to show that he was here for you. “Oh no, Mr. Kennedy. That’s a promise~”