#I HAVE NO GOOD REASON LET ME WALLOW IN MY SHAME AS IS

[winterarmyy]

And You're Mine

How grumpy chubby alpha!bucky finally found his omega

Summary: In which Bucky, the big, scary, 'undesired alpha' was tricked into a blind date where he met his precious little omega.

Navigation: Prequel || Main Story I || Main Story II || Main Story III

Words: 4.7k++

Pairing: chubby alpha!bucky x omega!female!reader

Warnings: implied 18+ content, implied smut, a/b/o dynamics, self-deprication, body shaming, tiny bit of angst, fluffiness, bucky has a size kink (if you squint), horny-ass bucky has lots of dirty thoughts, vivian being a digusting bitch, protective y/n, even more protective bucky and overall wholesome.

P/S: Ahhhhhhhhh!!! My first omega-verse fic; i have no clue what I'm doing. This is mostly self-indulgent but if you come across this and somehow interested to read it then I hope you enjoy!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

"Are you fucking with me right now?" Bucky momentarily shuts his eyes, slightly titled his chin upwards, as if that'll help the boiling blood within his nerves to cool down.

Steve had expected that his best friend would be a little bit annoyed with his decision to trick him into agreeing to this suprise date but he didn't expect him to get this pissed, "Come on now, Buck. I promise you're gonna love this one."

"You said the same shit everytime!" Bucky almost roared in the middle of the crowded carnival, but he held back with a muted growl.

Ever since he lost his left arm on a rescue mission during his time in the Special Forces Unit, the society had deemed him to be "lesser than" despite the alpha title he was born into.

You would've thought that serving your country for about 6 years of your early 20's would be enough of a reason to make up for the so called "lacking", but no.

Apparently, his heroic contributions, his Sargent rank, and his literal blood, sweat and tears meant nothing when he returned home as an amputee.

Even if he came back with the medal of honor, pinned on the fabric of his uniform, right on his prideful chest; they didn't care. A defected alpha is as good as dead, especially in this modern, competitive society where its a lot more difficult to find a mate.

At first Bucky was optimistic, he didn't let them get to him.

He believed that his mate is out there somewhere, waiting for him, as he is for her.

After Stark Technologies offered him to join their research for under the Prosthetics and Orthotics Division, Bucky was lucky to fully revived his left arm in a form a vibranium prosthetic.

Even then, as time passed, the venomous whispers eventually managed to seep through; like any other poison, it is lethal to his mind.

And Bucky stopped trying to be an alpha. His pride was maimed and he let himself wallow in self hatred; letting his insecurity consume him. Eventually quite literally ate his pain away.

They said that he was rubbing salt to his own wound as now he was not just an amputated alpha, he is also a fat one at that.

With his alpha reputation being at its worst, his chances of finding a mate also went down hill.

"This one's gonna be different. Trust me." Steve claimed.

Bucky doesn't know why Steve seemed really convinced. But he wasn't having any of that, he rolled his eyes into a glare, "And how's that?"

Steve's blue eyes sparked as optimism lit on his face, "Well, first of all, she's one of Peggy's closest friends and.."

"Oh great, now you involve your omega into this." Bucky let out an unfiltered scoff before sarcastically exclaimed, "Just fantastic."

Steve growled at the mention of his mate, "Watch it, Bucky." He warned.

Bucky's drilling glare remained the same as Steve's alpha challenged his.

It's not that Bucky is against the idea of Peggy or any other omega helping him in any way. But, Steve had been annoyingly persistent with these set ups and he was sick of it. Perhaps he was a bit petty bringing Peggy into the conversation but he really was just tired of this.

Steve's scowl gradually soften before he continued his reasons, "...And, your date is actually the one requesting for a set up with you."

And that definitely caught Bucky's attention. Steve could see it, especially when Bucky's ears perked up a little and his ever-lasting frown loosen at the tiniest amount.

Steve smirked triumphantly, "Specifically you."

For moment, there was a hesitation on Bucky's side; and there were only the chaotic atmosphere around them. From the screaming of the riders on the roller coater to the giggles of children at the nearby courasell.

Steve really thought he managed to lure Bucky but he was caught by surprise when Bucky replied, "You'd think I'd fall for that crappy excuse of a lie? No. I'm leaving." Bucky turned on his heels.

"I'm not lying." Steve stopped him as he held on his arm, "Hey, you're gonna break her heart."

"Break her heart? How about mine? Just how many more heart breaks do I have to endure? How much more disappointment do I have to go through?"

Bucky gathered his palms into fists as he recalled all the mean, insulting words his past lovers had thrown at him and all those time he wasted on waiting for his dates to show up.

Just before Bucky planning to lash out, a voice interupted his thoughts "Hey, sorry for being late." Peggy came just in time.

Though it was just her; no sign of his so called date around.

An unexpected sting spreads within Bucky's chest. Of course she would stood him up too. Why was he surprised?

Steve pulled his omega into a tight hug, "Hey, baby. Where's y/n?" He asked.

"She's went to the bathroom." Peggy replied before taking a peep towards Bucky, "She got really nervous when she saw you. She might take some time to calm down. She thought its better if you know." Peggy explained.

On one side, Bucky can feel that sliver of hope creeping in. He look down to where he was supposed to see his feet, but unable to see them as now they're blocked by the round of his soft tummy. That's when the dark thoughts clouded his mind.

Was she just feeling nervous or was she regretting her decision?

After a short back and forth explanation, Peggy swept Steve away and had left Bucky on his own. She claimed that the line to the haunted house will double if they wait any longer. But, Bucky knew that they just wanted to leave him and his date alone.

Like every other date before, Bucky was emotions was all over the place; nervous, scared, intrigued, excited but what's different tonight was he also felt angry and annoyed. Which was not a good thing to feel on a date.

So he went to a Whac-A-Mole machine near the spot where he was supposed to wait for his date. He had to hit something. He just had to. He need to let his anger out one way or another.

His gloved hand gripped tightly on the wooden handle as he waited for the next round. Smack after smack, next was harsher than before, he did felt better. But even if the fire was out, the ashes were still burning.

As he was fixated on whacking the shit out of the moles, a particular scent invaded his nostrils. A sweet-smelling scent; something between a mix of cotton candy and butterscotch-caramel nuances.

It should be normal to smell this at a place such as a carnival; but the food stalls were all the way on the other end of the venue and this scent was too strong, too potent, to be that far away from him.

Bucky just had to stop as he relished the pleasant smell; it was truly a sweet and warm gourmand scent that ushered him in and out between nostalgic memories and pure raging lust.

That was when he heard a voice coming from his back, "You must've been really bored waiting that you started without me." She sounded amused when she let out a quiet laugh.

Even before Bucky had the chance to turn around he knew he was fucked; she just had to have the most captivating scent he had ever smell, and the most beautiful-sounded laughter he had ever heard.

What a foul torment to do to an alpha.

When Bucky turned around, he would've missed her if he wasn't paying enough attention on the lower area of his view.

And there she stood, in all her glory of ethereal beauty; small and sweet-looking in an off-shoulder sundress that does nothing but tempt Bucky to leave his mark all over her exposed skin. A simple necklace adorned with a gleaming stone that shines much like her eyes. A shy smile that may have just triggered some dark thoughts in Bucky's mind on corrupting the poor little thing.

"James, right? I'm y/n." she introduced herself but when Bucky's gaze fell on her rosy lips, all he could think was how bad he wanted to bite and suck on them just see if it'll get redder than they already were.

He was too focused entertaining on his inner beast's thoughts that he just stood there in silence, frowning intensely at the sweet little omega in front of him.

Y/N took his unresponsiveness as a sign of anger, so quickly apologised for her tardiness, "Sorry for making you wait so long. When we..i mean I. When I saw you, the nerves started kicking in." At least she tried to, despite stuttering in the between her words.

Fuck, she's such a pretty doll but above all, Bucky just wanted to protect her from the world, provide for her with anything she deserves, treat her like an absolute queen, worship every inch of her being like his own personal goddess and jesus fuck these urges came in stronger than he ever experienced.

With the lights coming from behind, Bucky's face was in the shadows and Y/N misterinterpret his spell-bound, diluted eyes to something else.

Y/N's brows creased in hesitation as she wonders if Bucky was still mad, "Uhh... oh shit" then her eyes widen in a false realization, "Is the something on my face?" She frantically searched for her phone in her bag.

And fuck does that big doe eyes of hers just casually seduce Bucky to think of how she would look when she's taking his cock in her mouth. She'd be so fucking pretty.

She knew she should've used her phone's camera to re-apply her lipstick instead of the cracked mirror at the carnival's bathroom, "The mirror here is f--"

Yes, Bucky would want to breed her so good that she would always be full with his pups.

She's undeniably... "Perfect." Bucky finally spoke after what seemingly feels like forever.

His voice was laced with a hint of territorial grunt that Y/N was not able to catch what he said, "Hmm?" She titled her head to the side, eyes pleading for him to repeat.

It took Bucky all of his mental strength to hold back his alpha urges when he repeats, "You're perfect, doll. Just absolutely perfect." A cheshire smile decorated his handsome face.

Did he meant to say she look perfect? Well, yes but no. He clearly meant she was perfect, her whole being. But Y/N took it as the prior, "Thank you." She smiled sweetly as her cheeks warmed.

Bucky definitely noticed the slight indent of her left dimple. And he wondered how would it felt against his fingers. "Adorable." He thought as his smile grew wider.

Y/N had been waiting for this moment, to finally had a chance to have this man even for a day, especially considering she had the biggest crush on this stranger that helped her a year ago.

One time she might just had met her potential mate was that one time she had to be dosed with shit tons of scent blockers. And that might just be reason why Bucky may not remember her but that's fine. She had one more chance with him tonight.

After that encounter, his scent, his voice, his presence lingered in her mind longer than she anticipated. At least until the moment Peggy showed a photo her alpha that had Bucky in it.

She grew hopeful and had been pestering her to set up somehow set up date with him.

When the time finally comes, she couldn't help but to fell into panic, "Did I introduce myself? I'm y/n" she completely forgot that she already did that.

Bucky let out the most adorable laugh before he reminded her, "You very well did, sugar." His hand move so naturally to tuck the strand of her hair behind her ear as she fell into utter embrassement.

"I'm Bucky." He finally introduced himself.

"Bucky?" Y/N outwardly questioned. She thought his name was James, as Peggy said it was.

He hummed softly as he nodded, "The name's James Bucky Barnes." He explained. "Just call me Bucky, yeah sugar?" He duck his head to peek on her redden face, "...cause I can't guarantee my behaviour around you if you keep calling me James." He quirked his eyebrow as his teasing grin spreads.

Oh, he was definitely and unashamedly insinuated something quite unholy there.

Bucky straighten on his back as he offered his arms, "Shall we, then? I would love to know more about you, sweet 'mega."

No matter how infatuated Bucky was with this lovely little omega clinging to his arm; a part of him was also on a defensive mode.

His insecurities gets the best of him when he believe that all of this was just an act, a cruel prank that fate has set up for him or maybe he was just having a ridiculous dream, knowing how pitiful his reality was.

Despite his gentle smile and longing gaze that's lingering on Y/N who was having the best time of her life as her bright eyes sparked at the vibrant and colorful firework show, deep down, he couldn't help to think that sooner or later, all of this will end like it always does.

Another heart break he needed to endure.

But, she was truly an angel. She was everything he could ever hoped for, everything that he could ever long for.

He can't belive that she would spend even a second of her time with a defected, fat, angry looking alpha such as himself.

Maybe this won't be just another heart break.

Maybe this would be the cause for him to actually break beyond repairable.

And she would be the catalyst.

"Thank you for today, Bucky. I truly enjoy my time with you." She confessed with a sincere appreciation and admiration towards him. She shyly broke their eye contact as her finger fiddled with soft fur of the teddy bear that Bucky won for her.

It reminds her of him so much that she insisted that he need to win it for her.

So he did.

His alpha couldn't help to puff with pride. "Omega's happy because of us." But his lips remain shut with a loving smile curved on it.

The dimple on her cheek appeared again and this time he didn't stop his hand from reaching out. Though they were gloved, he still let himself feeling the pleasure of grazing his fingers along her cheek, through her dimple and stopped underneath her chin.

Bucky pulled her closer as he dipped down to her level. Warmth sparked in Y/N's chest, as if the fireworks show magically transferred within her instead, "Buck--"

"Bucky?" A women's voice interupted their moment. "Bucky is that you?" She called again and her familiarity had caught both Y/N and Bucky's attention.

"Oh my god! It is you!" her ecstatic tone might have fool Y/N for a second there.

Maybe she's a close friend of Bucky, but when she saw the colors from his face drained quite drastically, she might need to hold on to that thought.

"Vivian." Bucky's tone changed into something Y/N couldn't put her finger on. Sorrow? Anger? Regret? She wasn't sure but it was not a positive response.

The claimed omega sauntered closer and peered towards Y/N with a glint of judgment in her eyes, "And I see you managed to trick another one, huh?"

That triggered a scarring spot within Bucky.

He could still remember the way she accused him of luring and tricking omega to be with him. Apparently, she couldn't stand being him during intimate time especially during his ruts.

And one particular moment when his rut was at its peak and she couldn't stop herself to turn into an unforgiving monster.

"I can't believe I fell for your charms. Then now I need to deal with this." Vivian looked away, unable to look at her boyfriend, hot and bothered, bare and in pain.

Bucky pants and groan as Vivian continued to insult him from the corner of him room, "Look at you, Bucky! You look fucking pathetic!" She yelled as she angrily pointed her hands towards him.

He turn to his side facing her, and curled his body to manage the raging pain of wanting to stick his cock into something. Vivian was to busy ranting that she couldn't see the fire in Bucky's grilling frown.

"You can't expect me to touch you now especially with your big fucking belly spilling out like that. God, you're sweating like damn dog and you fucking reek!" Her eyes narrowed and her nose wrinkled in disgust before she continued, "And don't get me started with that wretched arm of yours."

That's it. Bucky was not having any of it anymore. He was seconds away from slamming Vivian's face to the wall as his primal alpha needs to aggress were also heighten in his rut.

"Then, get the fuck out of my house, you useless annoying bitch." Bucky growled through his pain.

Vivian was not able to catch a breath as her mouth hang open in shock. Bucky never been that harsh with her but honestly it was about time he did.

"Don't even think of coming back." He warned as she closed the doors behind her.

Unknowingly leaving Bucky's heart bruised and battered.

That was almost a year ago. Bucky gave her the benefit of a doubt as he thought maybe she would change once she find her the love life but apparently she is as vicious as ever.

The tall blonde continue to linger as she asked, "Did you know? About that arm of his?"

Y/N didn't know what she was talking about but she didn't want to entertain this woman, especially when Bucky was clearly uncomfortable with her presence.

Though her silence only lead Vivian to speculate, "Aww, you poor thing, you don't know, do you?" Her mockery was getting worst, "It's fake, honey. He lost his arm many years ago." She flicked Bucky's left arm with long bird-like nails; or claws, that seemed more accurate.

Bucky caught the way Y/N's eyes briefly glanced at his covered arms then his gloved hand. What was she thinking then? Does she think that he was defected? That he is a damaged goods?

He couldn't help to let his mind wonder to the worst case scenarios and to make the unpleasant situation even worse Vivian slightly tugged Bucky's jacket to the side.

Revealing his round and plushy belly, "And fuck did you get bigger?" She sneered as the ruthless insult continue to spill.

"Shut up." Y/N's broken silence caught them off guard.

Vivian scoffed, "What?"

Y/N piercing gaze landed on Vivian's hand still tugging Bucky's jacket. She harshly grabbed her on the wrist, didn't care whether if her nails would dug into the woman's skin.

"I said..." The air felt heavier, only for Y/N to shove more force to it when her voice dropped a few octaves down, "Shut the fuck up before I tear your throat apart."

How dare she insult her alpha, especially when Y/N was right there with him.

"Are sure you want to do that?" Vivian's alpha suddenly stepped in. Even though he clearly was not interested in the matter a few seconds ago.

Y/N took a step forward, "Try me." She dared him.

"I might as well fuck your balls up while I'm at that, huh? Maybe you'll learn a thing or two about subduing your insolent omega."

Oh, she meant what she said; its especially clear when the growling started to peak a presence through her voice.

The taller was bright red, with embrassment and anger, "You're talking to an alpha. Know your place 'mega!" He forced his alpha command on her.

She fought back as much as she could but of course she was forced to submit. When the alpha tried to reach for her, that's when Bucky blocked his way.

Bucky's demeanour completely changed into something different. His meek presence vanished and now turned into a pure and primal rage. Good thing was he contained it quite well so he won't cause a scene but his gaze degrades the one before him.

Though the alpha was slightly taller but Bucky was certainly bigger and being a veteran, of course he'd be stronger. One wrong move, he might get a chance to meet the grim reaper sooner than he'd expect.

It felt as if Bucky was towering over the alpha, as he challenged him to come a step further, "Touch her and you're dead." Bucky let out a deep, murderous growl as he threatened.

The alpha was about to protest but was forced into a frozen state as he look into Bucky's sapphire eyes; there was something ominous about it, something dark and dangerous.

Being overwhelmed by Bucky's strong scent of rage, Vivian quickly pulled her alpha away, "Let's just go... They're not worth it." She coaxed, and the alpha agreed.

Before they leave, she managed to slip a last comment, as she wishes luck to Bucky, "Goodluck keeping this one." She thought she was being sleek when she whispered so quietly but Y/N heard that just fine.

When Y/N snapped out of the alpha command, she grunted, "I'm gonna kill her." What a menancing look in those coffee-stained eyes of hers.

Bucky only softened to her threatening aggressions, "No, you're not " he rubbed his hand to the sides of her arms, trying to calm her down.

Which failed miserably when she replied, "Watch me." She spun around, eyes searching in the crowd, trying to spot a glimpse of the rude couple.

"Hey hey, omega." Bucky quickly catch her before she could walk further, pulling her back to his chest, both of his arms securing her waist, "Calm down. Shhh shhh." Bucky let out a calming rumble from within his chest, coaxing her softly,  "Killing is not necessary, sugar."

Despite her tensed body were starting to relax, her mind certainly wasn't, "And why the hell not?" Her small hands gripped onto the fabric of Bucky's jacket on his arms.

"No one deserved to be treated like that." She whispered softly as Bucky continued to kiss the top of her head, mumbling quiet 'I know, doll. I know' 

"You don't deserve to be treated like that, Bucky." Her voice shivered despite her efforts to conceal them.

Bucky loosen his grip and turned her to face him. His loving gaze took in every single one of Y/N's sweet features; from her teary eyes to her redden nose and pouty lips.

He wanted to kiss each of them, in hopes of making her feel better. But he doesn't want to take any chances as he had already made a bold move to hug her from behind and kiss her head prior.

Bucky looked down at his dark midnight glove, and Y/N took his lead. Before she could say anything, Bucky started pulling each one off. Revealing his calloused right hand and a shiny black and gold prosthetic on the other.

He can't see her reaction to his vibranium arm, but he imagined the worst. He took in a shaky breath before he spoke, "Alpha is supposed to be perfect. They supposed to be capable. So that they can provide and protect their omega."

He paused as Y/N wrapped took both of his hand in hers but then continued regardless, "And I am far from being perfect or ideal. I lost a limb and gained pounds in return. I can't hide that fact."

"But I swear to god y/n, I never intent on tricking you or using you, in any way." In the end, Vivian's gaslighting effect of Bucky was still stronger as ever.

Why couldn't he see that there was nothing less about him.

"It's pretty." Y/N titled his left hand back and forth, watching the glow on the gold lines reflect the lights of the carnival; each move create random sparkling dots on its smooth surface, it looks like stars.

Bucky didn't understand at first until she looked up at him, with eyes gleaming with mixture of intrigued and infatuation, "It's so pretty, and Bucky..." She reached her hand to his face, gently rubbing her thumb on his stubble jaw, "You're beautiful. All of you." She confessed.

She carefully pulled her hand away from his cheek, and grabbed his left hand with both of hers, allowing it draw near to her lips before she placed a loving kiss on it, "This arm," Then her hands caressed the softness of his tummy, "this body," before they stopped at his chest where his beating heart resides, "this heart. Every single part of you is beyond beauty itself."

Bucky frowned as he find it hard to believe and Y/N knew that, "I mean it, Bucky."

A short chuckle left her lips as a thought run through her mind, "God, you'd be running scared, if you know half of the things I would love to do to you."

Bucky bit back a smile as he let his teeth sink into his bottom lip.

Y/N continued as she held onto his hands, "But, above all Bucky, you are the sweetest man I've met." There was nothing more sincere than her words, "Yeah I know we just met and what not, but if I can see that just in one night, imagine if I get to know more of you tomorrow or the next day and next week?"

Her grip on him grew stronger as she reminded him, "Don't let an impudent omega or anyone even, convice you otherwise."

"Because Bucky, you are as lovable as a person can be." She placed his palm on either side of her cheeks, purring as the sensation on skin felt so right, "And I am absolutely honoured and proud to be standing here with an alpha like you." She smiled like she was the happiest omega on earth.

And Bucky could not control the overwhelming joy within his thundering chest as it bursts with endless fluttering butterflies. He had never felt such comfort, such reassurance in his life, especially after returning home from the army.

Flickers igniting as he leaned in closer and closer until their lips touched, tentively for the first time. The smell of her cotton candy and caramel, so sweet and so soft, it was almost dizzying, but he was more than thrilled to let it consume him. 

Y/N briefly parted her lips to let him in and leaned into the kiss, wanting more of the delicious sensation of his lips, his tongue on hers. Bucky wanted nothing more than devour her, memorizing of every single moan that fell into his mouth.

It felt so right; it was exactly was his soul had been yearning for and more.

Breaking the kiss was the reminder to both of them they need air to breath, and Bucky rested his forehead on hers as he took in everything that just happened.

While Y/N found herself completely drunk to the feeling of love within her body and soul, she whispered dearly as she scatters most tender kisses all over Bucky's face, "You're so pretty. So perfect. So... mine."

And that caught Bucky in another spiral of confusion; she could see it in face especially with his sapphire eyes being as wide as they were.

She giggled amusingly before she proposed, "Will you be mine, James Bucky Barnes?"

God, he was supposed to be the alpha here. But what can he say, his omega is quite a special one.

He breathed a relief sigh, "Yes." Leaned in for a quick taste of her lips before asking his a question of his own, "And you're mine?"

Her nose crunched as she booped its tip on his, "Always." She replied. Bucky could feel her smile against his lips and so does she.

Unbeknownst to the happy couple, a few feet away from them was Peggy who was busy clicking her camera away, trying to get the best shot she could out of the couple while Steve was trying hard to hold back his proud sniffles as he stood guard near his omega.

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Sooooooo what you think? Feel free to give feedback I love reading your thoughts!

[teaboot]

Forgive me if you’ve already answered something similar but how do you deal with crushing guilt when you did fuck up but there’s not really anything you can do to like make amends or you’ve already done anything you could and still feel guilty?

Like I know the guilt isn’t productive at all, if anything it’s just paralyzing me, and mentally beating myself up over it isn’t actually helping anyone. But I don’t know where to go from there. Idk how to actually forgive myself, or at least be able to move on

CW FOR SELF HARM

Okay, so this is something I've had to work through for a very long time myself, and there's a few different strategies that I've used to cope and process with varying levels of success.

What I used to do was handle the "I've ruined everything and hurt people and am never going to be forgiven" feeling by hurting myself in a number of creative and stupid ways, from physical hurt (Everything you'd expect) to mental hurt (wallowing, speaking badly of myself, going over the bad thing over and over again in my head) to passive hurt (neglecting my health, not eating properly, failing to pursue good living conditions, letting others hurt me, deliberately wandering into risky situations) and despite any short-term relief or peace I got, none of it ultimately fixed anything.

At the end of the day, making myself suffer as retribution or apology didn't fix the thing I'd done and didn't make the guilt go away, and all it gave me was an additional sense of shame and isolation because now not only was I a garbage person, I was a garbage person with something to hide from my loved ones. Zero out of ten, do not recommend.

The stuff that DID help was harder and is going to sound stupid because *I thought it was stupid* until it worked for me.

First: Learn the difference between GUILT and SHAME.

GUILT is how you feel about your choices.

SHAME is how you feel about yourself.

"I was late to a date again, that was inconsiderate": GUILT. The issue can be resolved by analyzing the reason behind the action and planning steps to avoid repeating it in the future. Guilt is productive because it motivates us to improve our choices. Once you've corrected the behaviour, it's over.

A"I was late to a date again, I'm inconsiderate": SHAME. The issue can be resolved by asking ourselves:

What negative thing to I believe about myself?

What other experiences support this belief? What evidence do I have that the bad thing is true?

Do those previous experiences have anything in common? Where they actually proof of a personal lack, or did someone just tell me they were? Were my choices and actions understandable? Did I have a reason? Was I trying to hurt others, or was it a mistake, accident, or learning experience? Have I grown from that experience?

Can I forgive myself for the past? What do I need to do to forgive myself for those past events? Was I really at fault at all, or was it out of my control?

Accept that.

Your present traumas and shames often have roots in beliefs you had about yourself before the new shameful thing occurred. When you dig into resolving the issues that led to today, you can use those conclusions to work through tomorrow. This is something I learned in cognitive behavioral therapy.

There are a number of ways of unpacking these questions, but as I felt I was deliberately avoiding my thoughts and feelings, I chose to jump into them directly, and found it to be effective.

You can write things down, talk to someone, paint something, draw something, whatever. Whatever at all works for you.

My solutions was to find a comfortable place on the floor, sit down, close my eyes, and do box-breathing (in for 4, hold for 4, out for 4, hold for 4) while deliberately thinking about every upsetting memory attached to a specific bad belief that I could recall until I had nothing left to go over.

Judge and jury. Was I a bad person, or did I make a mistake? Did I have malicious intentions, or did someone accuse me of malicious intentions? Am I bad, or have I been conditioned to believe I'm bad? And at the end of it all, am I capable of better? Do I want to be better? And would a truly bad person care?

It was more emotional than I expected the first few times. Cried a lot, actually. But if I can liken it to a common feeling, it was like getting out of a very thorough shower and realizing you didn't know how dirty you were before.

The process sucks ass, no lie, but it's worth it. Like draining pus from a gnarly wound to get it healed up properly.

I'm not an expert, of course, but life has gotten better since I started. I'm better at forgiving myself, at least.

Also: Some people will never forgive others even for tiny things. Sometimes once you've done your best, you've just gotta say "fuck 'em". C'est la vie, mon amie.

Good luck, yeah?

♡

[zukosdualdao]

something i was thinking about regarding the parallels of aang and zuko accidentally burning toph and katara, respectively, is the similarity in their reactions in the immediate aftermath, but the way their reactions diverge afterward, re: apologies.

Aang tosses it into the air and spreads his arms out. For a second, he has a smile on his face, but it vanishes as he accidentally burns Katara's hands. Katara shrieks in pain. Aang: Katara! I'm so sorry! Sokka comes running to Katara's side. Sokka: [Concerned.] Katara, what's wrong? [Angrily.] What did you do?! Aang: It was an accident! I was, uh... Katara, I'm so-- Sokka furiously tackles Aang. Sokka: [Enraged.] I told you we shouldn't mess around with this! Look what you did! You burned my sister! [Katara runs away.]

Zuko: Who's there? Stay back! [Whips fire.] Toph: It's me! [Throws up an earth shield, but steps back into Zuko's fire blast.] Ow! You burned my feet! Zuko: I'm sorry, it was a mistake! [Comes toward her, but she begins to crawl away.] Toph: Get away from me! [As Toph crawls away, she grabs the earth under her and throws it backward at Zuko.] Zuko: Let me help you! [Dodges another rock.] I'm sorry! [Tries to grab her.] Toph: Get off me, get off me! [Brings up some earth which sends Zuko flying back.]

both of them try to immediately apologize as soon as they realize what they've done, and while that's understandable and they both do feel genuine remorse, the kinds of apologies being made in these contexts are inherently a little selfish. an apology should be for the other person, and neither katara or toph is in a place to process it, as both are in immediate pain and both are panicking. aang and zuko also both try to repeat the apology - aang only doesn't get all the way through his because sokka tackles him and interrupts - in the moment when it's become very clear that it's not going to be appropriate or helpful at the time.

where i think they diverge, though, is that while aang continues to feel remorse, he doesn't offer another apology now that tensions have lowered and she might be in a better place to receive it. instead, it becomes about his own guilt, and katara having to comfort him, telling him it doesn't matter because she was able to heal herself.

Katara enters the cottage to find Aang sulking. Aang: Jeong Jeong tried to tell me that I wasn't ready. I wouldn't listen. I'm never going to firebend again. Katara: You'll have to eventually. Aang: No, never again. Katara: It's okay, Aang. I'm healed.

he also learns the wrong lesson from it. and to be clear, i'm not criticizing that as a writing choice - i think it's very realistic. but instead of resolving to do better in the future and learn discipline, he declares his intent to avoid firebending instead of committing to the responsibility of controlling it. (which, as katara rightly points out, is just not going to work.)

whereas, despite his lapse in wallowing in his own guilt - why am i so bad at being good? - by the next day, zuko is able to apologize to toph in a setting where tensions are lower and she's better able to process it, as her feet might not be completely healed but are healing and she's in significantly less pain and a clearer mindset. he gives the explanation of it being an accident without excusing it, instead affirming that he knows he has a responsibility to be more careful and resolving to do better.

Zuko: [To Toph.] I'm sorry for what I did to you. [Bows to her.] It was an accident. Fire can be dangerous and wild, so as a firebender, I need to be more careful and control my bending, so I don't hurt people unintentionally.

i think the reason zuko is able to work past this and not keep wallowing in shame and guilt is because part of his journey has been learning (with help from iroh) that the guilt and shame he was made to feel for his 'wrongdoings' in ozai's eyes never actually helped anything, and he has finally started to internalize that. so he's able to say "i did a wrong thing and i'm sorry and i will do better" without either trying to completely justify himself or debasing himself, and that's powerful and important.

[magknightidv]

hello sweetie! :D

i see that you want to write about descendants and i would absolutely love to share some requests i've been thinking about.

idk if you write ficlets, headcannons or oneshots, so you can write in the way you feel more comfortable! :)

so, the thing is, uma and harry (separately) x artist!reader (gn please!!) where the reader draw and write music and poetry about their lover/crush. i just want to see how they would react if they seen the readers art bcs i think it would be soooooo cute!

(im so sorry if you can't understand something, english isn't my first language.)

take care of yourself. love u!!

I love this so so much! thank you!

Hope this doesn't end up being too bad, I feel it was a little rushed (not because I felt I was being rushed just that I had a few thoughts that I needed to write before they were gone yk?)

I'm doing it so it's:

Harry Hook x painter/drawer!reader

And

Uma x music artist! Reader

To make it easier to imagine

Also I've kept it gender neutral dw and I've also written it so Uma and Harry are in Auradon when they meet you

Please feel free to request more at any point (I'm going to write for all descendants characters but mostly Harry Hook)

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

Harry Hook

Let's imagine Harry has no idea who you are in the beginning

Some random person that's always seen drawing, painting, creating something.

He's seen some of your works hung around Auradon prep in expensive looking frames

He doesn't approach you for a while, in fact Gil is the first to meet you

Gil takes the same art course as you so you meet there when Gil had a bit of a paint disaster

Harry was originally cautious around you because he thought you'd be some stuck up art critique kind of person who was going to complain about Gil

But when you instead explain that you could see what he was trying to do but the actual execution of it wasn't great , Harry laughed with you

Overall your first meet was a positive one that was the beginning of a laughter filled relationship

Harry would always see you sat somewhere, in some weird position, scribbling away in your sketchbook

He eventually spots what you are drawing, or better yet who.

Him

He crashes.

All thoughts, Gone.

He's just staring at it for a good 5 minutes before you have to click your fingers in front of his face to wake him up.

"H- How, no, why are ye drawin' meh?" Heat rises to his cheeks and he slowly brings his thoughts back to Earth.

He'd already had been developing feelings for you since you two met. I mean you were nice to his friends, kind to him, he let you meet his sisters at one point and they seemed to even like you. You are fun to be around, you check that he's taking care of himself, you make sure he's not too bashed up from the sports he plays. What isn't there to like?

"You have a pretty face, nice to draw." He takes note of the blush that grows on your cheeks and the way you look off to the side with a shy smile growing. "I draw the people I like, the people I'm closest to."

His heart almost stops. Did you just try to kill him?! 'cause clearly you aren't aware of the way you make him feel.

I headcannon Harry to be Pansexual, as a pan person myself, so he was kinda well known on the Isle for being able to flirt with anyone he wanted for various reasons

But let me tell you, not once had he had the air knocked out of his chest from a few simple words.

You take his silence the wrong way and begin packing your things to go find somewhere to wallow in your shame, but Harry just drops to his knees in front of you.

"Please, draw meh, whenever ye want to." He is on his knees looking at you with the happiest smile he can muster and almost puppy like wonder in his eyes. "I'll be yours, if you'll be mine?"

Okay that bit came out a little too easy to him, he didn't really mean for that to happen.

But he can't complain since you agreed!

Everything you create for him, he treats like it's the most fragile item he's ever come in contact with

He's always showing it off though he's so appreciative of everything you do so he wants to show the entire world

When you feel down for not feeling your art is good enough, he's oddly prepared to show every bit of art you've ever given him with reasons on what makes it perfect to him

He may as well be prepared with a PowerPoint presentation on every one of your works he's seen

I fact he's probably prepared one somewhere, pictures, effects, transitions, the whole shebang!

He draws too, almost forgot to mention. I've got a little headcanon of him always doodling pirates on cool adventures when he was younger on the isle. I also like to imagine that there was a time where Evie and Harry liked to draw together but Evie drew Princesses and dress designs and Harry drew pirates which created some childish clashing between the two. So they'd stopped almost as soon as they started their little doodle hangouts

That's offtrack, sorry.

He gives you pictures of you in multiple different styles, each time it seems like he's trying to depict you as an angel of sorts

He also draws the Uma and the crew but he comes to check that he got everyone right with you

ART DATES.

YOU'RE GOING TO ALL THE MOST AESTHETICALLY PLACES HE CAN FIND

He may or may not let you take pictures of him for references as long as he can do the same with you, he's also pretty good at photography so he loves getting new picture of you with some fantastical background making you stand out so much more

Uma

Uma knew who you were when she arrived in Auradon, she'd heard your music played at cotillion

She couldn't complain about it, it wasnt her usual style but it was new and she liked that

When she had officially arrived she would notice you all around

Playing music for parties, proper events, even just around the school

Despite her not meeting you she subconsciously finds her way to you

She listens out for you whenever she can

She ends up actually meeting you thought Evie

Evie was designing everyone's outfits for a party so your fitting time overlapped into Uma's time. Uma didn't mind and in fact took the opportunity to tell you that she'd heard you around but hadn't had the chance to meet you

From then, you became quick friends.

Her feelings developed the more time she spent with you, she just loves listening to your music

She'd like to learn an instrument that would compliment your style of music so you could play together

She helps you with lyrics whenever you need the help

She first finds out that you write songs about your experiences and the people around you by looking at the lyrics for some of your songs

She finds it sweet that although you don't directly mention people, you can share the way you feel to them to those who will listen

But then she finds a song that's for her

I mean who else would it be for, she's the person you spend most of your time with and she's the pretty pirate with blue hair

She definitely looks over the lyrics and gets so giddy that she's kicking her feet with glee, when you walk in and see her smiling at the page she doesn't stop smiling

She immediately asks what you mean and when you tell her she latches onto you

Basically, she asks you out right then and there

Who are you to deny her? Of course you accept

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

So sorry it took longer than I thought, and sorry Uma's part was shorter thats my dumb lil brain being dumb

[babishfantasies]

I promised - part 5

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4

“Aww come on sweetie, there’s nothing I haven’t seen before”. She said while standing in front of me. I looked confused at first, but after a short while I realized what she meant. Of course, she has the one that changed my pants last night, who else could have been. I could feel my face getting red and hot as I was filled with shame, and she, realizing this, took a seat in my bed and started to uncover me. “Now let's check the damage you made during the night”. Ok, that’s it. “LEAVE ME ALONE YOU WEIRDO. JESUS, WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU?” I yelled in desperation.

There was a short silence that felt like an eternity. “Oh. I see” she said, her voice with a clear disappointed tone. As I heard her I lifted my head to meet hers, finding that she had a sad look on her face. Not just sad, but she had the saddest thousand yard look in her face I’ve ever seen, and I’m not sure but I think her eyes were glassy too. God, I’m such an asshole, why did I yell at her? I could have just asked her to leave me be, that usually works. I just did something terrible, or at least it feels like it. “Hey. I’m so-” I tried to finish but then she interrupted me. “No, it’s fine” and then she stood up and left. Before leaving the room though she said “Oh, I made breakfast… for us. When you’re ready just go down to the kitchen” in a very monotone voice. I’m a fucking douche.

After wallowing in my stupidity while changing myself getting ready for my soul crushing fast food job I went downstairs to get that breakfast. I didn’t want to, but she had already made it and it would be even more rude if I just left after she took her time for it. I just hope this isn’t too awkward.

She was sitting at the table taking a cup of coffee. She was still wearing the same outfit, but somehow she looked different. It was probably the look on her eyes or the sad expression on her face, it most definitely was that. I took a seat and made me a sandwich with the scrambled eggs she had made, all while looking at her. God, she’s so beautiful, even when she’s sad. I hope there was something I could say to take back my words. Because yeah, she’s a weirdo, but nobody deserves to hear that… and well, who am I to talk?

“These eggs are good” I finally muttered. “I’m glad you like them” she answered without even looking at me. It didn’t feel like she was mad at me though, but more like she was… disappointed? That made me feel even worse for some reason. An uncomfortable silence sat between us, and a rift between me and her was formed due to that silence. This was nothing like her usual self, she’s usually so talkative and even flirty, and even when she teases me and I get mad she keeps her good humor, but for some reason this was different, and I could feel it inside me what made it so.

After finishing my first sandwich and not being able to take the guilt anymore I just said it. “I’m sorry, ok? I didn’t mean to hurt you”. I almost sounded as if I was frustrated with her distance. I couldn’t bring myself to meet her eyes so I kept my face down, but I could feel as if she was turning to see me. I felt so ashamed of everything, of hurting her, but also for apologizing in such an infantile way, I really sounded like I was missing her attention. Then she stood up and approached me, and when I lifted my face to meet hers I saw her. She was smiling with relief, as if a weight had been lifted from her, and I could feel just that too. “You really mean it?” She asked while standing tall at my side, making me feel impossibly small. I just lowered my face again, overwhelmed by my emotions and her presence. “y-yes” I said while blushing and fidgeting in my place. “Good. Then I’ll be waiting for you when you come back” she said before placing her hand on my temple to kiss the top of my head. My heart was throbbing like crazy. I just stood completely silent there until she took her leave. After a couple of minutes I came back to my senses and realized I didn’t have much time to ponder about this whole thing. I was getting late, so I ate one final sandwich and then took my leave.

Suffice to say I couldn’t focus much that day. There’s been so much going on these last 24 hours and I haven’t had the time to process it, but more than that it was her last words that were taking most of my attention. Would it be something like we did the last time? Some… intimate time together? I’m flashed with images of yesterday and I can’t help myself to get excited about what’s waiting for me. I’m even anticipating it, almost like a little kid who can’t wait for that field trip tomorrow. God, I’m so pathetic. How did I got into this whole thing? Oh yeah I remember it, it was Alice.

We were at a party about 3 months ago, and my roommate was about to leave the city, which meant I wouldn’t be able to pay rent so I had to find a place to stay. I wanted to look around town with someone, but all my friends were settled, so despite finding some decent flats I wasn’t able to pay them with my miserable job. Some of them offered a couch to crush, but that wasn’t a sustainable solution. It was in the middle of this when I asked Alice if she knew someone who would want to live with a really convenient and peaceful guy and she said “perhaps”. What was up with that? And of course it was some weird shit, but at the moment it was a strange situation at least.

Alice told me there was this woman on her 30s who was loaded and was seeking for someone to rent one of her rooms for a suspiciously low price, but she didn’t wanted to rent it to just anybody, so if I wanted to get the place I had to go to an interview with her on a sunday really early in the morning no less and see if we “got along”. I still remember that day, I was tired and miserable and basically answered all of her questions with the little brain power I had at the moment, didn’t thought at all that I would get the room, and in fact I thought after the interview that of course I wouldn’t get the place because she was probably searching for a tall well built man so she would have something pretty to look at while around the house. Well, that wasn’t what she was looking for, after all I’m 5’4’’ and she’s a head taller than I, but still I wonder if she was indeed searching for something to play with or she just wanted to be sure I wouldn’t call my friends to rob this rich asshole’s house. Well, maybe she picked me because I was smaller.

Whatever the reason might be, I'm in this situation, and I’m not complaining. It’s just that… it doesn’t feel right. I feel used somehow. I’m being used in fact. Or maybe not in fact, but there’s something I cannot control that she’s taking advantage of, and that’s not fair. I mean it feels ok… or amazing in fact, but still. This shouldn’t be how things are at all. She should be with his 6’3’’ hunk instead of doing whatever we did last time with some borderline midget. Why is she so weird? And why can’t I resist her? I would say that I want things to go back the way they used to be, but I would be lying to myself. This is abnormal, and I was perfectly content before finding out this was a possibility. I can’t even bring myself to name it, it’s just so… gross. Or at least not something you can talk with your friends about.

I ruminated like this the entire day. Darren, my coworker, looking evidently into some sort of deep meditative state while cleaning the floor asked me if everything was all right and I just said yeah, of course I’m alright, I just didn’t had enough sleep last night. Darren is such a nice guy, I almost feel bad for lying to him, but I would be dead before talking about this to another soul. Maybe with strangers on the internet and under the cover of anonymity, and even then I would hesitate to touch the subject.

When the day was finally over and I took my leave, I felt how my mind entered this hyper awareness state. Whatever was waiting for me back home was just a couple of minutes of walking and public transport away. I felt everything slowing down and could almost taste reality itself. In a way I didn’t wanted to make it back, almost as if my mind was trying to tell me that I wasn’t ready yet, that I needed a little bit more time. But despite all of that and after nominally 32 minutes I was back there, home. So strange to call it that, I feel like it’s the first time I think of this place as “home”.

As I stand there searching for my keys I hear the door opening. I freeze, my eyes locked in what’s about to greet me on the other side. It’s her, and she has this devilish smile. “Welcome back sweetie. I was waiting for you”.

part 6

[shebeafancyflapjack]

Lullaby 'Cross The Void

(I have the flu. First time. It sucks. My oc must suffer too, but also comfort. What are these Mummy Issues of which you speak? Set in @idiotwithanipad 's Moving On series, after Exile)

-

She could throttle that boy!

He promised. He swore to her on the stars themselves not to breathe a word of what she almost did that night. She thought he understood her pain, her confusion, how demons can throw strings 'pon a person's mind and puppet them to do what they never thought they were capable of.

That had been her moment of madness. Her greatest shame. Silver was never supposed to know. T'weren't necessary for her to.

Just to hurt. T'is all he'd wanted to do, to win their silly spat.

As soon as that ragamuffin gets sucked off, she will slam that dull head of his with her own till it doth crack like a goose egg. For the first time since she arrived in this land, she misses her fire and smoke. She misses having something to channel her rage into. Not that she'd ever had cause to be this angry since.

"Not to play savage advocate, love...But looks like 'e regrets his words to her, same as you regret nearly burnin' the child." Annie reasoned after watching Mary shout abuse at the image of Robin in the waterfall for almost an hour.

"I care not! Let him wallow in his shame! My little'en be sufferin' and the one I did rely on most to care for her in my absence hath wounded her beyond repair." She responds, tears of fury pricking her eyes; "Now she casts herself out, all alone. My darling girl. Be there no one to give hers succour?"

Wiping her soot-free face, she reached her hand to stroke across the vertical water's surface, over the image of Silver crying on that log, in the middle of the woods. How cold she does look, even for one not able to feel the chill of the Autumn night. Mary's arms ache to wrap themselves around the child and hold her tight, take all the pain away.

No matter how loud she explains herself to the waterfall, how much she tries to convey that her sinful attempt was never about Silver herself, it will be for nothing. Her words, her love, none of it can reach her.

Sometimes she wonders if this window into the Before World is more of a curse than a blessing.

"Where be the other little'en?" She asks Annie.

"Still on that cliff. The sky doth darken from her misery." The Puritan sighed, "Not sure my efforts to comfort her brought much fruit."

"The potion of citrus and anxiety did not raise her spirits?"

"Not even a smile. But she did drink it. And she yet to throw herself over the edge."

"Perhaps it be best she does. Then she may teach herself to fly." Mary smiled, "T'is hard for any soul to be morose when soaring on the winds."

"Maybe wes can go flying later on? You is need of cheering too, my love." Annie reached to stroke her hair behind the taller woman's ear.

The temptation was there. Maybe they could try to convince little Amy to come with them.

Then her eyes fell back to the waterfall. To Silver.

Silver without her Amy. Without Robin.

How could she abandon her too? It didn't matter if she wasn't aware of her presence. If her vigil brought even a smidgen of comfort to the girl, then she had to stay.

-

"And so this Fluffy-."

"Buffy."

"Rights. She be younger than yourself and fightin' all these demons."

"Yeah, she's a total badass." Silver gushed, skipping across the rocks beside the lake.

"But you say she also let's them seduce her?"

"Well...one or two. Three if you count that thing with Dracula." The Pagan shrugged; "Girls love a bad boy. Or girl. Like, uhm...Wuthering Heights? Or Jane Eyre?"

"Oooh, I do recall her Ladyship watchin' them on the little box!"

"Well it's kinda like that, but the men are vampires and the women fight more. I doubt Heather will be buying the dvd set any time soon. Shame, I think you'd like it." She giggled, jumping off the final rock, "Especially Willow."

"She be a tree?"

"No!" Silver chortled, "She's a good witch, like me! And she has a girlfriend, Tara. Those two influenced little me a lot growing up as you can tell."

"Ooh, sounds like a thrillin' romp."

Mary could listen to the child talk about her favorite stories from the telly, as well as the myths about her favorite heathen gods, for hours on end.

The girl did always seem to brighten at any chance to chatter about her favorite things to anyone who listened. Many of the others in the big house had no patience for rambling, as Mary herself knew, so she was happy to indulge their newest ghost.

Birds began to chirp in the treetops as they awoke, though the sky remained dark. Mary had always been one of the first to wake, a habit from her farming life she'd never been able to shake. Where once she would wander the land alone, the girl is always up and abouts at all hours during her cycle.

"Next time I'll tell you about Charmed. Not as good as Buffy but still lots of cool witches defeating mostly blokes." Silver promised.

"Do all your favorite tales involve witches?"

"Uhmm...Not always. I mean there's Friends. But I suppose that has Phoebe and she's kinda witchy." The Pagan blushed; "Guess I am kinda a one track mind."

"Nothin' be wrong with that, sweetling. You has your good witches, I has my potatoes." The two shared a laugh at that.

Silver's eyes moved to a set of pale weeds close to the bank.

"Aww, look at all those dandelions. I wonder if ghosts can make wishes on them."

"Ain't stopped me from tryin' all these years." Mary confessed, taking the girls hand.

They knelt down together and tried to blow the seeds into the air.

"Oooh, Is think wes almost doing it, little'en!" Mary cooed as a couple of the seeds began to float off into the air.

"Pretty sure that's the wind."

"Ah, what if we is the wind. Ain't that what you said you thought we became 'pon death? One with Mother Nature."

"Yeah...You were listening to that?"

"'Course I was, silly." Mary reached to ruffle the top of the girl's hair; ""Cor, what I'd give to have a brush to sort that barnet of yours out, it be as untidy as Robin's."

"Shut up, it's not that bad!" Silver ducked, though her cheeks reddened at the offer.

Mary suspected, with a twist of her gut, the child had never been sat upon her mother's knee to be groomed with much tenderness.

"What did you wish for?" Asked Silver.

"Oh, you knows better than to ask someone's to utter that, darlin'." Mary said with a poke to her nose.

"Was it about Annie?"

"Oh, I should never have revealed her to you. Nosy little nymph that you be."

They pushed themselves up to their feet. Silver grinned and began to twirl, humming some modern melody, letting the floating dandelion seeds hover around her. Mary watched her with a besotted smile. The little witchling, dancing among scattered wishes.

"I wished to find someone like that. Don't think there's any harm in saying that, if the Goddess wants it to happen for me." Silver smiled, contently.

"She better or Is be havin' words. Yous deserve to find your Annie, little'en."

The girl shone like the dawn, just as said light began to pierce the early morning sky.

Then Silver's feet twisted beneath her and she fell.

"Shit!"

"Silver?" Mary knelt down, reaching for the teenager; "What ails thee, pet?"

The girl struggled to lift her head, "Nearly coma time. Must have lost track..."

"Oh!"

Mary had not witnessed the transition between Silver waking to her falling under her curse before. It was typically Robin at her side, Robin who carried her to her sleeping spot in the woods. But the caveman was currently resting soundly on the living room floor after he and Patrick watched a marathon of those movies left on the box, about the apes taking over the world.

She was surprised by how weak the child now looked, her energy sapped in but the blink of an eye. The way her skin turned pale and she struggled to lift her limbs, t'was as if she be struck down with consumption, without the hacking cough.

"How long do you has left with us?" Mary asked.

"...Usually 'bout twenty minutes. 'Till the sun properly shows itself." She explained, followed by a yawn.

"Can ye walk?"

The girl answered by trying to test that for herself. She barely propped herself on one knee before crumbling like a paper doll again.

"Hehehe...nope."

Mary tutted; "How doth it feel?"

She shrugged, head listing to one side; "Bit like the flu. My joints go all stiff and sore when I try to move. And my head weighs a ton. S'like the batteries in my body have run out."

"Ey?"

"Uhm....Like the stream has gone dry and there's nothing to spin the water wheel?" She tried again.

"Ah! I sees." Mary nodded, then stroked the girl's hair; "Oh your poor, sweet thing. I hads no idea. I always assumed it were but a sudden fainting before you slept?"

"That would be better." Silver huffed.

She began to curl forward upon the grass.

"Oh, little one. You cants sleep here in the field, the Ladyships gardener will trample thee." Mary fussed, running her fingers across Silver's clammy forehead.

"S'fine...Just fetch Robin when he gets up, he'll move me...." the girl said, eyelids fluttering.

"Tush and flops! I don'ts need no silly boy to help me tends to thee!"

"What you-?"

Mary tucked her arms beneath the girl and lifted her up as she rose, securing her against her front. The child let out a brief sound of surprise before sliding her arms around Mary's neck to help.

"Wow...Julian was right. You are freakishly strong." Silver smiled, eyes glinting, impressed.

"Life of toiling the land since I were old enough to walk, little'en." She explained as she began walking towards the woods; "Skinny thing like you do weigh no more than a newborn lamb."

"Thanks!" The girl snorted. She yawned, leaning her head against the woman's shoulder.

Mary carried the child with relative ease towards the trees, following the trail of cornflowers towards the mound which the girl had claimed as her resting spot.

"Yous sure I cants convince thee to rest in the big house? There be plenty of free rooms for your picking."

"You say this every month....Thanks for the offer, but m'fine out here...."

"Suit yourself. Strange little urchin."

Mary clicked her tongue as she knelt and laid the young woman atop the mound. She did look oddly comfy as her head fell upon the flowers and she settled amongst them, the sharp pink of her fringe set against the striking blue of the petals.

Sitting beside her, the older woman continued to pick and stroke at her hair, smiling down at her.

"You reminds me of my husband." She confesses, her heart aching a little; "He always loved his fanciful tales and saw the joy in every little thing."

"Did you..." She yawned again, wider this time; "D'you love him?"

She nodded, leaning down on her elbow and resting her head on her hand.

"Greatly so."

"You're lucky. You got...two loves of your life..." the girl smiled, those sapphire eyes growing smaller by the second.

Three, thought Mary, gazing affectionately at the sweet ray of moonlight in her afterlife.

"Close them eyes, little'en. Time to visit your dreamland." She coaxes, smoothing her finger down her cheek, same as she once did to her own baby girl in her crib all them centuries ago.

Silver obeys, resting her eyes, chest slowly rising and falling as she settles.

"G'night..."

"'Nighty night, darling. Rest well." Mary whispers. She then sang as the child drifted off, just as the sun made its appearance over the horizon.

A lullaby of old English terms of endearment, barely even recognisable to modern ears. But one her mother had sung to her in her cradle, and her mother before hers, going back possibly to Eve herself, or so Mary had been raised to believe.

It's many hours before she leaves the child's side. Robin appears shortly after eight, looking fretful and guilty for having overslept, but relieved when he finds Mary close to his Moonah Girl, still stroking her hair and gazing at her with pure devotion.

All those doubts and fears and prejudices that had caused her to nearly do the unthinkable all those months before, now felt like a bad dream, barely worth remembering.

And that's how it was supposed to stay.

-

Mary still sings. Any time she looks in on her girl through the magic waters and sees her sleeping - which is most of the time - she sings her mother's lullaby.

"May the winters pass, may night turn to day,

For I do miss thee, gentle heart,

All these many miles away..."

It's the third night of the full moon, back in that world at least. There are many glorious moons in the skies of this land, some silver, others violet or emerald, some as large as Jupiter while others small but dance in circles.

Silver will be falling asleep soon. The dreadful fatigue will pull her under and there will be no loving arms to carry her to bed and see that she's comfy.

A pox on thee, Robin. Sort that filthy head out and get to the girl's side with haste! Fix this!

He promised. He swore to her...

Mary chokes out a sob. In troth, it were not merely Robin she were vexed with. The blame lay at her door too. Had she been honest with the child, had she confessed to her sins when she'd been present, this would not be happening. And she'd have had a chance to explain herself. Silver would at least be aware of all the facts instead of drowning in doubt and rejection as she did now.

But Mary had been a coward. Scardy cat. Once she'd let Silver into her heart, found the daughter she thought she'd never have again, she'd been so terrified of losing her again. As she had her and John's firstborn. As she'd lost Annie.

Forgive me, I beg. Forgive me.

Silver's tears were as much on her hands as Robin's. Except he had a chance to atone where she did not. At least, not until her darling girl was finally sucked off.

"I is here, little'en. I's always here." She sighed, watching the girl weep alone.

Except...

She was no longer alone. There was someone else with her now. Someone...sat with her on the log, cradling her sleeping form on his lap, bundling her in a thick red cloak.

Body Bit?

He had come to tend to her? Not Robin? Mary watched with awe as his hand stroked the girl's hair as she curled into him, eyes shut, black marks staining her cheeks from all the crying.

Oh. Was he mistaking her for his own little'en? Did the husk not understand...?

They had traded daughters, it seemed.

Whether conscious of it or not, he was caring for her little'en now. Mary sniffed and got to her feet, smoothing down her dress. Annie had already gone back to check on Amy. T'was time that Mary joined her.

She voiced a promise to Silver through the water to return soon. But her presence not be of use to her now. She's not leaving her child alone. In the body's arms, she'd be safe.

And the last thing Silver would want is for her dear companion to feel as lost and lonely as she.

[noses-in-winter]

rambling under the cut about some miscellaneous mental health thoughts, don't mind me

Healing is painful! I wish someone had told me that this was going to hurt this much! My body and brain just want to self isolate and wallow when I'm in a rough patch, that's what I've always *known* to do, because---turns out! Letting your kid handle their big emotions on their own when they're young is gonna make them grow up only knowing how to be alone when they're hurting! Seems like this should just have been goddamn obvious. My mother didn't get the memo, apparently!

I wish I could just blame her and let that be the end of it, I wish I had someone to point to to say "you're the reason why my brain doesn't work". And she is! She is, ultimately, the reason why my psyche is just a million shards stuck together with Elmer's glitter glue! But stewing in anger over how much she fucked me up isn't going to help me be less fucked up! It's not going to help me be a better presence, friend, or person. It's not going to help me enjoy my life, it's not going to help me live the life I want, and it's not going to make me feel good about myself.

I know healing isn't linear. I know I'm going to struggle and fail a lot. I want to run away. I want to hide. I want to just flip out at everyone who's hurting me. I want to cry and let myself wallow because that's what's familiar. But I'm just not! I'm not going to! I'm deciding I won't, so I won't!

Okay, maybe I'll cry. A lot. Actively crying as we speak, actually. But when I'm done I'm just gonna Do the shit that scares me.

The only way out is through, right? I want out. I want out so, so badly. I don't want to remain a prisoner in my own head just WATCHING as I make shit worse for myself because that's what's comfortable and familiar. Well! I had my time of being comfortable! Time to be uncomfortable! Comfort is no longer a factor! The only factor is trying to be someone that Future Noses-In-Winter can look back on with more than deep-seeded shame. I want to look back at who I am now and be able to say that I did a good job.

Okay. I'm in pain, but I'm doing this anyway. I'm getting out my Shame Strangling gloves because this bitch is going down, even if I'm crying/hyperventilating in the process!

[thevampiremarie]

Hi! !(A little request for cod :D)

Would it be too self indulgent to ask for something with caretaking.. or just hurt/comfort in general..? Honestly no preference for characters, any content would be cherished and appreciated (can you tell I'm a huge fan of your Simon series. Cuz I am such a huge fan of that series)

No pressure ofc!! I hope you have a wonderful day!

I THOUGHT TUMBLR ATE THIS BUT I FOUND IT

Eeee 🫶🫶🫶 thank you for the ask, and thank you for enjoying heartless!

I’ll do my best, I’m not feeling super good atm but I have a few ideas. (Though this will be short due to my own depression) I’m omitting ghost and König from the list because… that’s basically heartless lol.

I actually intended to do the rest of the 141 but literally all I have energy for is Gaz and Soap. So I hope this is okay!!!

Gaz and Soap x taking care of you

Gaz (food aversion)

Gaz is literally the best when you’re struggling to eat (for whatever reason)

He has all your safe foods memorized, including where/how to get them

He knows that choices can overwhelm you, and it’s helpful when he chooses sometimes, which he does happily

He’s so grateful and honored that you trust him with something so sensitive, that you let him keep you safe + happy + well fed

Gaz orders something/cooks something for himself too and sits with you to eat together, even if he isn’t super hungry

Spending that time with you is just as important

You’re also more likely to eat when he’s eating, and talking/watching a movie/cuddling/holding hands all helps you finish your food because you’re not fixating on it

Gaz says “hydrate or diedrate” all the time as he passes you your water bottle

If anyone (friends, parents, random people) tries to pry/press you for answers/make assumptions that you’re “just” a picky eater, Gaz shuts it down in seconds and curls his arm protectively around your waist

Soap (depression, specifically cleaning your room/hygiene) (don’t come for me, I’ve always found this to be one of the most debilitating and shameful symptoms of depression)

There’s nothing about you that Soap doesn’t care about. Everything you do is important to him.

He knows how much you struggle with asking for help, especially when you need it most

When you haven’t left your room in three days (or three weeks), when mugs pile up on your bedside table and you don’t even have the strength to do laundry

But that’s okay, because you’ve got Soap

All he asks is that you text him/call him

He doesn’t just help clean your depression room

Soap checks around the house, loads your dishwasher, restocks your toilet paper

So when you eventually feel better, you don’t become immediately overwhelmed

He gets in the shower/bath with you and smothers you with affection so you spend the whole time laughing (instead of wallowing in how bad you feel)

Thank you so much for the ask ❤️

[aaronpaceluvbot]

beige flag (aaron x reader)

summary: in which aaron isn’t a fan of a particular food and you are very curious as to why (tldr - aaron’s beige flag is that he has to eat ravioli with his eyes closed/just not look at it at all) ** you feed him the ravioli. awww

before you read: not proofread, references throwing up, lowkey a crack fic? , it isn’t said that you and aaron are together, it’s implied that you guys are dating or situationship (did i use it right) ??, but it could def be interpreted as two very close friends flirting. this started out as a crack fic. I don’t think it ends as one. 

wc: 1.3k 

the dreaded day had come. the cafeteria was only serving ravioli and other horrifying variations of it. a shiver went down his spine as he assessed the other options. gluten free ravioli? hell no, that was probably worse than the normal kind… seafood ravioli? maybe not… his eyes wandered and eventually settled on ravioli with just meat. that should be fine, right? 

he lets out a sigh and puts a few on his plate, being careful not to make it gross. after all, he would have to eat it… he sees you patiently waiting for him at a table, already starting to eat your food as you wave him down with a mouthful of ravioli. as much as he adored you, ew. he’d always wonder how you willingly ate the food with your eyes wide open. 

he toddles over to the table where you sat alone and you could immediately tell that something was wrong. “hey, could we maybe eat outside? i don’t feel like eating in here,” he says, giving you a look that you couldn’t say no to. you nod and grab your things and follow him out to a quieter, secluded spot. 

“what’s up? did you have something you wanted to talk about?” you ask, enjoying your ravioli. aaron refuses to look in your direction, which is suspicious.

“no, i just didn’t want to eat inside, especially with some people acting like pigs with their food.” 

“huh… you’ve never had an issue with that before, have you?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as he tries to come up with a reasonable explanation. he couldn’t just tell you that he could only eat ravioli if he didn’t look at it because it looked weird and gross and scary! 

“no, no. i haven’t. i just think today’s an off day, you know?” you nod in understanding, continuing to enjoy the food. it was actually pretty good, considering that you guys were in the middle of nowhere and the food just seemed to spawn in. aaron continues to stare at everything but you, except his ravioli? 

“are you gonna eat? because your food’s gonna get cold soon,” you say, gesturing to the food on his plate. 

“i mean, i will! i just, i just-“ 

“you just what?” 

“I CAN ONLY EAT RAVIOLI IF I DONT LOOK AT IT BECAUSE IT LOOKS GROSS AND WEIRD.” after announcing that, aaron continues to look away from you and your dinner and then buries his head in his hands. “it’s so stupid but every time i’ve tried to eat it and look at it, i’ve thrown up,” he says, clearly embarrassed.

“oh. my. god. that’s what it is??? you should’ve told me sooner!” you say, trying to get the boy to look at you.

“why? so you could make fun of me for it?” he asks, still wallowing in embarrassment. 

“no!! that’s not it! you could’ve just closed your eyes and i could’ve just fed you it! i mean we’re in the perfect place for it! we’re outdoors, no one’s around and no one’s gonna question it either!” you say, gesturing wildly. this catches his attention.

“so that’s your solution? i don’t see a problem with it,” he says, sliding his plate over to you. the realization about what you just said hits you and you let out a shriek.

"what if someone sees us and then misinterprets this??” you say, suddenly panicking.

“like you said, there’s no one around. they’re all too busy eating dinner. plus it’s completely innocent, we’re not doing anything horrible. just think of it as just helping someone out. there’s no shame in that.” 

“i mean, i guess i get that,” you say, sighing and wondering what you got yourself into. “now close your eyes.” he obliges and you cut up the ravioli into halves. “here comes the airplane!” you say cheerily. you couldn’t tell if that was an attempt to get back at him or just you trying to make him feel better. he turns his head and opens his eyes.

“say that again and i swear to god i will stab you with that fork.”

“oh! ok…” he closes his eyes and turns back around, mouth open and you feed him the bite. you continue doing it until the plate is empty. however that doesn’t come without a few missteps. sometimes, one of you would move and it wouldn’t quite reach him, but in the end you got there. “you’re done! there’s no more left, so all we have to do is take the plates and silverware back to the cafeteria!” you say, gathering the utensils and dishes. aaron is already standing up, doing a quick stretch that has you reeling. 

you don’t think he notices as he walks over to you and extends his arms towards you. “get up,” he says, shaking his hands a little bit. you take his hands and he pulls you up from the position you were sitting in.  he takes the plates and silverware as the two of you walk back in to the cafeteria. there’s a comfortable silence as the two of you continue onwards to the second part of your comfortable routine. 

walking hand in hand, you want to break the silence to ask him something but he beats you to it. “thank you for you know, feeding me. i was serious about the whole ‘if i eat ravioli and i see the insides i’m gonna throw up’ thing. i thought i was gonna have to suffer before evening practice,” he says, absentmindedly caressing the back of your hand with his thumb.

“i mean, it’s no big deal really. i wouldn’t have wanted you to like, starve,” you say, mirroring his actions from earlier and choosing to look at everything but him. he notices this and smirks.

“you know, i really wouldn’t mind you doing that again…” and with that, you stop walking and immediately go red.

“you can’t just say things like that!” you say, taking your hand from his, and turning away to bury your face in your hands. he doesn’t know if he finds this cute or entertaining or maybe even both. 

“but i just did,” he says, mocking your tone and letting out a laugh at your extreme reaction. he turns you around and holds you close. 

“you are the absolute worst. you know that right?” you ask, voice coming out muffled. 

“i’ve been told that,” he says, clearly still amused by your antics. “i just didn’t think it would come from you, now that hurts.” you don’t even bother to grace him with a response. you just sigh and just stay there until he untangles the two of you when you’re both ready. “but seriously, thank you. i don’t know what i’d do without you.” you don’t respond but you both know what you’re thinking. i don’t know what i’d do without you either. 

“did i ever tell you why i dislike ravioli so much?” he asks, grabbing your hand again and softly swinging it. 

“i don’t think you did, but why?” 

“when i was younger, my family and i watched this like, documentary about how frozen foods were made. and when it started talking about ravioli, it was tolerable until it showed how they made the meat and stuff and got it into the pasta and it was just gross. i think you can guess what happened next.”

“you never willingly went near ravioli again, and now throw up whenever you have to see the insides?” 

“exactly, and it’s so embarrassing-”

“stop it, it’s not embarrassing. if it makes you feel any better, it’d just be a beige flag. nothing too horrible,” you say in an attempt to comfort him. it doesn’t work as well as you thought it would because he gives you a confused look.

“what’s a beige flag?”

“a beige flag is a fact about someone that would cause you to do a double take, but isn’t that important - for example, my beige flag is that i have a very irrational fear of escalators.”

“you’re scared of escalators?” he asks, looking amused. 

“and you’re not? what if your foot got caught in one?” you quip back. he nods in understanding. the two of you continue the trek to his room in silence, not caring about what may happen next. all that really mattered to the two of you was enjoying the moment. 

[lettuceloather]

some things i never or rarely do as someone who has dealt with disordered eating for 10+ years.. and won’t. and no one will convince me to for my mental or physical health

nothing on my page are things i recommend for you to do. my entire page is a literal diary for my own record. however, these things help me not go too extreme and keep me sane.

i don’t count olive oil in my calories. i just don’t. i use the smallest amount possible to cook my food and keep it pushing. it needs to be there to cook my food, i’m not going to beat myself up about it and shame myself. at the end of the day i will still be in a massive calorie deficit with it without a splash of oil if i’m eating wisely. the numbers on the scale will continue to drop.

i dont fast for more than 24 hours. my body personally can’t handle it and i won’t put myself through it. fasting for long periods of time (purposefully or because of depression or other reasons) also has habitually caused me to begin a pattern of binging. it’s not for me.

i dont measure ingredients for basic meals. i’ve been cooking for a decade. i know what a cup looks like, i know what half a cup and a fourth look like. i also read packaging to know how many servings are supposed to be in something. if i’m doing my math correctly in my head the total number of servings should make sense :P

before my disordered eating started (maybe lol probably not), my friend whose mom most definitely had disordered eating and pushed it on her offered to cook us eggs one morning after a sleepover. she asked if i wanted cheese, measured her own cheese then proceeded to tell me i didn’t have to have mine measured. i’ll never forget this because she was trying to spare me from her habits but it felt like i wasn’t good enough to join her in being skinny and she was okay with me eating like “junk,” however, taking a measuring cup to measure anything for something so simple is bonkers to me :/ and really sad. we were like 14. as long as i’m aware of what i’m putting in my body and can mentally count and measure (i also have a photographic memory) i’m ok.

i will NEVER (be ok with) purge. it happened twice for the first time this year. i didn’t want to do it but i was so nauseous from not eating that when i went to eat something i did throw up. it’s so bad for your teeth. a lot of money was paid for my teeth. i had braces for 3 years. i have permanent metal in my mouth. i’m not trying to fuck up my teeth. it also does not help that much. i would rather work it off or wallow in self pity knowing i fucked up to not do it again.

i will never smoke. i’ve lost too many people to lung cancer. i won’t do it. it’s not worth it.

i don’t make my diet my friends problem. if we are eating out socially i will eat out or drink socially. i try my very best to do so within reason. i also do my absolute best to not binge while out. it’s important to help me maintain my friendships by just doing it and not trying to think about it too much. one meal out 1-2 times a month will not ruin me. canceling on my friends, avoiding plans, not enjoying myself while out will ruin my time with them and will make them not want to continue to see them. i like who i am when i am with them. they like who i am when i am with them. i try to keep my integrity and don’t let my mental health fuck that up, even when i’m struggling. i occasionally will go with i’m not hungry or let’s do this or whatever instead, however, i do not push if the plans are to get dinner. i just get the damn dinner.

i won’t rush progress. it’s dangerous. it’s bad for my metabolism. slow progress IS progress. i eat well below my calorie intake and still move my body. i drop a couple pounds a week. that is progress. it’s more than recommended and i’m not going to push my body to do more than that, especially at my age. my metabolism is already really fucked. it’s so much harder for me to maintain/keep weight off versus my friends.

i might add to this but i reached my ugw right after college. maintained it for a few years, pandemic hit, gained some of it back (not a lot), lost someone close to me last year and gained so much. i stepped on the scale one day and i saw the number that i initially saw at the doctor when i was a teenager when they told me i was overweight and needed to lose weight. it was really triggering then and it was really triggering now to hit that weight again.

when i reached my ugw i never realized how small i actually looked until recently. :/ everyone made comments and told me and i never believed them. i really thought i looked average.

the only thing that made me stop losing weight was being clinically underweight. that scared me.

[bigbadmuerte]

He shrugs. "Not enough people bother to know me. So they don't see that side of me, any side of me really." He lets his gaze fall to the floor, scuffing one of his boots absenmindedly against the tile. "I'm not trying to be this Belos person. I just want to go home. Life isn't really about being happy for me. It's about survival and shame. I've made my peace with that."

"You also have to let people know you. It's great to say, oh sure, no one takes time, but you also have to reach out. You had a habit of being alone on purpose before. That's a hard habit to break." He huffs as he grabs soap to get out the last few stubborn stains. This will dry out his fur, no doubt. He'll have to attend to that later.

"You're gonna have to choose to let life not be about survival and shame." He tosses Phillip a harsh look. "Don't get in your own way. You could be happy. You really could. It's never too late for anyone. But if you decide that it's too late, you're fucked. Don't do that. Just, god. At least try to do things differently this time. If not for me then for Azura. If all you do is wallow in that same anger and shame, you'll drag her into that with you. She deserves better."

Death rolls his shoulders, trying to shake off the unsettled feeling that'd been collecting under his skin for this conversation. Why was he even trying? This was Belos, after all. He must've had so many opportunities to change, but never took any of them. Why did he himself think this time would be any different? Despite that, despite trying to be reasonable, it still didn't kill the weak hope that'd taken root in him.

This would not end well for him, he knew that. That understanding was written all over his face. And yet. And yet... Wouldn't it be nice if he could change? He ground his back teeth, already regretting his next words.

"If you... If you want help, I'd be willing. Can't promise I'd be any good at helping, but it's worth a shot, right? To try and live a life that doesn't have its roots in shame?"

[rawrmeansilyindinosawr]

what does it mean to be free?

i think we were meant for just that . i think kurt cobain was right when he said people were evil but some people were just straight up basic. and how that brings others into this weird way of viewing themselves where they’re abstract and have to hide from others the fact that they’re just so abstract. it’s an awkward conversation when you try to bring that to the surface so you might as well just dodge it. i think it’s not just self-wallowing when you find that you’re quirky. but i think i’ll take upon the responsibility to make sure every basic and normal person finds their inner weird and inner abnormal because that’s what i think would make the world a bit more harmonious.

what confines humans to a mortar shell in this prison incel of a society , modern cage of iron - are concepts of money and guilt. that money is something to be afraid of losing, something to keep on gaining. survival is a rat race and fight of the fittest. i was in 7th grade in mr Gouldes science class that i absolutely abhorred with every other class except art and english but i somehow won the game of darwinsim we played as a class. i just know when we came to this earth we were nothing but babes, naked and innocent and afraid. bloodied from our mothers wombs , without social branding of numbers and personal identifications and silly little cell phones that heard us talking to curate more silly little ads. but i don’t think we were meant to live like this —in a robotic like state. and you know what i don’t give a fuck anymore? i don’t give a fuck about the structures and timelines that i ought to succeed here and ought to do the things i ought to do in those certain little ways until i breathe my final breath and just die — because i quite frankly don’t think it would matter. ill die in a rapid and tremendous yet small way and i’ll die in my honesty that i still think we were meant to be free.

free to love , free to nurture , free to do as many as the drugs we want because nature vs nurture couldn’t have prepared us for the amount of fucking bullshit that life herself had devotedly surprised us with … like a gift wrapped in soft pastel tissue paper. i think some of us are too fucked up to live sober and that’s ok. i think some of us won’t ever be able to understand that and that’s ok . i think some of us will stand in the in-between carrying the guilt and the shame from not knowing how to think about sobriety and drugs but the solace in the fact that we could die from medication because we tries to kill the pain. and im utterly convinced once again that nothing matters. and once again, i am convinced nothing matters. but love. and that that’ll be the only reason why i choose to live, for love.

though my inherent values defy this world and call it breaking the law, call it unabiding or even uncivil. just as i am a published writer n i still don’t know how to spell basic words. i write for me. i let my words be for me. i let them mean what they want for me. i will live my life FOR ME.

they tell us not to smoke, not to drink, to be drug free …. but what they don’t tell us is how good it feels to be finally relived. what they wanted from me was to be an adult and by that they meant to take the child out of me. but why take the final parts? im too “immature im too young im too naive.” i think ive heard it all to the point where i interpret it as i kant simply just Be.

. …. i want to live like the kids of nostalgia, summertime sadness and godsent blue where i take risks and impulsive decisions because i really just want to. my therapist says that not all impulsive decisions means you’re self harming. i want to be in the back seat of my moms dodge chevrolet again with my headphones and big frown wrinkling my forehead wondering if ill feel this way forever and hating it but never realizing just how easy it was to just think that was all there was to feel and even that felt like the weight of the entire world. but years go on and you realize not every feeling is like another. and freedom isn’t always living in the wild eating berries n dreaming of electric fans. i think it’s just so funny when i feel the most enlightened when i’m crying and dry heaving after these drug binges but i know i’d miss a lot of things if i werent here today and tomorrow and forever. but i don’t want to live forever, i want to live everyday ….. with the sound of my friends voices vibrating through my ears as my brain comprehends their language to words to meaning to feelings like 8 track memories

i want to make absolutely no absolute promises because i really don’t know when it’ll stand true at the end if i’m honest. i want to live fully freely and safely with no one taking that away from me. i want to be free.

[unma]

Uh, mentions of suicide (not attempted, but considered) and suicidal ideation under the cut I guess. And lots of talk about my depression. And a bit of oversharing. Did I say this blog wasn't for venting? Well, I'm unpacking these things as I write them so please be kind with me, okay?

Still thinking about my memory and how it's gone from me being proud of remembering the most specific stuff to barely being able to remember anything past a certain point save for really specific mostly intensely painful (usually mental) periods of my life.

I don't think it's memory issues (or at least the kind where I'm simply incapable of actually recalling things or putting moments into long term memory). I just think that there isn't much for me to remember in my day to day life outside of the internet.

I spend most of my time moping around, looking forward to the day where I'll be free of everything that has plagued me. The optimism younger me had about leaving this life behind and becoming a new me is gone, replaced with a me that has accepted the reality that it would be a long struggle to get to that day that I'm happy. I already had to pull myself out of the pit that was wanting to actively end it all, and now I wallow in despair wondering if it'll happen anyway.

it was only weeks ago (or perhaps months? Time has begun to blur for me since forever ago) that I found out I had friends who were glad I wasn't dead. IRL friends, in specific, as I wasn't too open about my struggles online, for obvious reasons. I mean, I was also gone from this blog for a year or 2 due to related matters, so obviously no one online would know about any of this since I wasn't here.

Back on track, I had a classmate of mine call to see if I was still okay and doing fine. I wouldn't call him that close of a friend—he's the type of person who's an asshole on purpose but friendly enough, so you can tell when he's taking a piss and when he's being genuine, but he doesn't pull it off nearly as well as a much closer friend of mine—but he was one of the few I'd let know that I wanted to die. Even though I'd made it clear ages ago that I wouldn't ever pick up a knife, he was still glad to know I was okay. And upon mentioning that to others who knew about my woes, they all responded that they too were glad that I was doing okay. It felt nice to be cared for.

So it's a shame that the only way I can talk to any of these people is online.

There isn't much for me to look forward to offline. My family's awful, as you can probably tell from today's posts, I hate most of the people I know in church (not to mention that being agnostic and having a horrid experience with the church growing up makes that place a living hell to be in) and there's nowhere for me to go outside. Not to mention it's way too hot. No really, I tried to go for a walk outside today and didn't even make it an intersection before the sun made me turn back. And I'm the one who used to wear hoodies in the blaring sun before I moved. It's way too hot here in the summer.

Every time I try to improve something about myself, be it my posture or not spending all my time in my room, I'm reminded ever so swiftly of why I'm like this now. At some point I resolved to sit in the living room often, but every evening my dad would come home and yell about something that had gone wrong, and because I was the only one nearby I'd be the only one subject to that yelling. And then I remember the reason I never left my room was because child me realized that greeting my mom when she came home from work was never worth it because she would 100% send us to do chores. And she wondered why no one ever greeted her when she came home anymore.

There's a lot of things the internet has done to me that would make me wish I got on here when I was older. But it pales in comparison to how much good it's done for my life. How much it's shaped me into a much better.

And the fact that I'm still alive, I guess.

I think often about how my dad once told me he knew me better than I knew myself. Back then I thought "Do you know your son doesn't want to live anymore?" I still wonder if he'll ever find out. If he'll ever realize that the pressure he and my mom placed on me to get better academically, even as I was one of the best performing students and simultaneously already struggling to keep up with the stress from maintaining those scores. I wonder if they'll ever understand that the hate I feel for them is not childish rage at not getting my way—not a rage that will fade as I grow older and wiser in life—but a deep hatred that will never fade until I'm free of them forever.

I wonder if they'll ever realize that they were horrible parents. Even now they're constantly blindsided by the effects of their own bad parenting. Effects that I, the oldest child, continued to point out to them when they first showed up. Things that I very clearly told them needed to be corrected.

Perhaps the fact that I had to point out that they were failing at being proper parents to my younger sister constantly as I grew up is just another sign of my shitty upbringing. One in which I was forced to learn to be mature at a young age. To be the smart one. Above breaking the rules, above being playful and immature. Perhaps it's no wonder in the end that I simply stopped caring, when fun was something I continually had to fight for, and stress was simply the norm. Even now, as I think back on my past, most of what I remember was the time and effort I spent. How proud I was to pull an all-nighter to finish handwriting my Business Studies notes, as if my rides to school were not already spent frantically catching up on my CRS notes.

My school-assigned advisor once told me that I had to deprioritize writing to spend more time focusing on school-related work. I wonder what he'd think if he found out that writing was perhaps the main reason I decided there was still a point to life. I wonder what my mom would think when she agreed with him.

Oh well, it's not like there's a point in dwelling on that.

Point is, well, there really isn't much for me to look forward to or do, other than eat and sleep. Not to mention that most of the things I can do suck or actively make my mental health worse, which is fun.

As for the point of explaining that? Well, I think the reason I can't remember anything is because there isn't anything to remember, or at least anything good. What's the point of actually remembering things if all there is to remember is enraging conversations and anxious waits for things I dread? Perhaps the reason I don't remember much about my life is simply because I stopped having things to be happy about. Outside of the internet, anyway.

If I have any consolation, it's that I can still vividly remember a lot of my time online, where I had fun and made friends and learned to be myself. And when I put it like that, it feels pointless that I've even slightly worried that I spend too much time online, when there's no reason for me to reduce my time online.

That's all my pondering for now, I guess. Really long post, yeah, but today's event made me think about... a lot of things, I guess.

[spaceageloveblog]

Sometimes I reflect on my life, and my career especially, and wonder how I got to where I got. Why were my ambitions the way they were. That is, mediocre. Why didn't I dream bigger. I daydreamed, sure. But why no dreams that I pursued.

So I picture my life after having bigger ambitions as a teenager. Go to an elite college. Travel. Get an important job. Travel more. Go to an elite grad school. Get a more important job. Have a lot more money than I do now.

And then I watch this music video and remember why. I remember the person I was in August 1996. 17 years old. Working the minimal amount of hours at my dishwashing job so I didn't have to ask my parents for too much money. Bumming around most of the summer in our family's third car that I didn't pay for. About to start my senior year of high school, where I'd continue to get good grades, not try very hard, not do anything interesting academically or extracurricularly speaking. Never had a girlfriend. Never had sex. Never even made out with a girl. Biding my time until I'd head off to a mediocre state school a year later.

All I wanted was to be the sort of person that girls would be interested in, have normal situations, young person drama, girlfriend arguments, pregnancy scares, breakups. I wanted to party and be the kind of person cool people and girls wanted to be with. I really wasn't focused on doing anything interesting, doing anything that would warrant cool people and girls wanting to hang out with me. I was funny, that was my saving grace. People like hanging around with funny people. But I wasn't the kind of funny that got me girls. I just wanted to be in the game. I was game-adjacent, but I wasn't in the game.

The day after writing everything above, I heard Van Lathan on a podcast, giving advice to a guy wanting to lose weight, and he said the shame is what kills you. You need to let go of that. You can't wallow in that. You need to move forward. Focus on incremental steps toward where you want to go.

I never thought about the shame aspect. I grew up in a mediocre town. I was a little bit smart, a little bit funny, a little bit athletically inclined. But I sailed under the radar with a few Bs to end up ranked 4th in my class. Never leveraged my sense of humor to seriously pursue anything creative. Gave up on sports when I didn't make the high school baseball team. Just applied to mediocre state schools and went to the one that gave me the most scholarship money in a another mediocre city in my mediocre state. And I wonder why my career and my body are where they are now--good not great.

And I feel shame about that. Wasted potential or something. Just need to call it what it is and move forward.

I'm on a win streak healthwise--running, not drinking, stringing together a few weeks of reasonably healthy eating. Just keep adding steps.

And career wise, I finally made it to the interview stage of the next level job at my company, a big step. You usually don't get hired for the first one of these jobs you apply for, but I've been invited to the show. Regardless of how this goes, I need to keep the momentum going.

So that's what I need to focus. Not why 17-year-old me in August 1996 didn't choose the optimal trajectory according to the hindsight of 44-year old me in August 2023. I just need to take incremental steps in the right direction now.

But I do love that album though.

[yaralulu]

Tamlin won and I wholeheartedly agree but I want to ramble about this bc I think about these two idiots way too much 😄. This is for me more than anything.

Tamlin would definitely be the one more prone to getting hurt in these arguments for two reasons:

1) He cannot come up with good arguments or viscous insults on the spot 😭. My man needs time to brainstorm okay. He’d spend the entire argument just bullshitting as he thinks of the most awful thing to say to end the whole thing. But literally the second it comes out of his mouth, he wants to die. Like just the most insane amount of guilt and shame hits him but he can’t even take it back because Lucien is STILL going. Lucien sees that shit as a challenge and he just amps it up to a million.

There’s also the alternative where Tamlin gets very angry and he just lashes out and says the most diabolical shit you’ll ever hear. Same outcome though.

Which brings me to my other point.

2) Tamlin can’t put aside his feelings when they argue. Like Lucien is someone who argues for the sake of arguing. Very rarely is he ever getting emotionally impacted by the argument, he literally just wants to win and have the last word. So while Tamlin is wallowing in guilt about the mean shit he just said, Lucien’s still pumping out the insults like crazy. And Lucien is so annoyingly good at arguing and he knows exactly how to word things to make them hurt. He just will not let it go until the other person gives up. His toxic trait I fear.

Now despite all of this, I do think they’d both scramble to apologize the next morning because they genuinely feel awful. Tamlin’s usually the first to say sorry followed by Lucien incessantly saying that he’s the one that should be apologizing and vice verse.

this is me presenting my “tamcien have the nastiest arguments known to man” headcanon. i’m talking like the shit they say to one another literally should never be said out loud. my evidence to this is: we saw how bitchy tamlin can get when he’s upset (high lords meeting) and the outright diabolical shit lucien used to say to feyre in book 1 when he hated her. trust and believe that their arguments could create new hells.

[leonbloder]

Doubt That Leads To Faith

Doubts are the ants in the pants of faith.  They keep it awake and moving. - Frederick Buechner

There have been more than a few moments when I doubted that God's purposes were for me and not against me.

I've good reason to think that God would not oppose smiting me with some difficulties, a challenge, or two.  I'm not the best Jesus follower, truth be told.  This is why I often say I'm "stumbling after Jesus."  There are a few rough edges to my faith.

Plus, I've got a lot of years of wrestling with the baggage I carry with me because of my fundamentalist upbringing, which brings a whole heaping helping of guilt, shame, and self-loathing with it.

I'm still a Christian after all these years, which is a wonder to me sometimes.  It speaks to the power of the Good News of Jesus and my hope and trust in God's overwhelming, unconditional love.

Even so, there are days when I don't feel warm and fuzzy about my relationship with God, and I also wonder if God is really paying attention to what's happening in the world.  I'll wager that you probably wonder that sometimes, too.  

To quote one of my favorite W.B. Yeats poems, it sure does seem like in our current culture, "the best lack all conviction/and the worst are filled with passionate intensity."

So when I am filled with doubts, I have begun to embrace them rather than wallow in misery because of them.  I have come to see my doubts, as Frederick Buechner so beautifully put it, as the "ants in the pants" of my faith.

Rather than serving as the end of my faith---these doubts are the beginning.

When I find myself doubting that God is God and knows what God is doing, I become more open to God, if that makes any sense.  Rather than shutting down my heart, I open it up.  I long for some sign, symbol, or evidence that God is on the job.

And in that longing, I am more often than not surprised by the hope that comes when I experience God in the world around me.  

Clement of Alexandria, a Christian theologian who was born just over a century after Jesus' life and ministry, once wrote:

By striving toward God, one shows noble daring.

I have come to believe that merely desiring God and striving toward God is all it takes to open our hearts and minds to the presence of God in the world around us.  

That might seem like a bold statement, but it's one that I am learning is more authentic and genuine than any doubts we might have.  And in most cases, our doubts lead us to strive toward God even more.

You see, when we experience doubt, we have the opportunity to let go of certainty, and we can release our own will in matters of faith.  Because, in the end, it is certainty and ego that keep us from experiencing God.  

So if you have doubts today, don't try to stifle or brush them aside. Refrain from letting them lead you to double down on certainty, which can take the form of either disbelief or further bolster your previously held beliefs.  

Instead, let your doubts lead you to more openness, more profound curiosity, and a willingness to be led further on the road of faith.  

This noble daring is one that you won't ever regret.  Faith and doubt are not oppositional; they are partners.  Faith and doubt work hand in hand to help us experience the fullness of a life spent pursuing God's presence in the world.

May it be so for you today and every day from this day.  And may the grace and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you now and always. Amen.