#I’m DOING the right thing and TRYING to go to therapy
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
I don’t really know what to say. I’m very scared.
I think anyone who has committed to not having children should schedule their tubal ligation/vasectomy ASAP. They came for abortion. They’re coming for IVF. They’re going to come for your ability not to get pregnant next.
One thing I learned last year when I was contemplating ending my life was that escaping despair was not about running away from something—it’s about chasing joy down and bringing it into your life. Feeling better meant giving myself specific things that made me happy to focus on.
So I started eating foods I’d never had but wanted to try. I got back into doing my nails. I bought myself easy crafts to do because I wanted to learn how to sew and crochet and embroider. None of that solved the real problems that were causing my despair, and I had to do things that addressed those problems directly. I’m not saying little hobbies and retail therapy will save this country.
Sometimes despair is the thing that chases you down instead. It is for all of us right now. And I don’t think I have anything in me to say that can give anyone hope for a future that looks pretty bleak. All I know is I’ve lived in despair before and it’s the first thing that will kill you, if you let it.
What I am saying is that when you have a problem you can’t solve right away, you medicate the symptoms so at least you can live in some comfort. If you’re too tired or too hopeless or in too much pain to feel like life is worth living, you won’t live, and you won’t see any reason to.
I’m going to do what I can to make my life happy for the next four years. I’m resolving to get back into painting and drawing. Sometimes the little things you give yourself to look forward to are what carry you through the worst parts of living.
I’m not gonna say everything is going to be okay, because for a lot of people it simply isn’t. I’m very sorry.
I guess what I want to say is there are still little good things ahead. There’s a really good piece of fruit you’re gonna eat in the future. Yarn might go on sale at the craft store so you can make a sweater if you want. For now the trees are still green. Chase joy with me.
95 notes
·
View notes
Text
part 1 part 2 part 3
the intro is boring as shit i know just power through
---------
Johnny who's just gotten released from the hospital with a half-ton bag of medications and months' worth of pre-scheduled appointments. Physiotherapy, speech therapy, occupational therapy, he didn’t even realize there were so many damn therapies that didn’t have to do with talking about feelings.
He has one of those too, much to his discomfort. Even asking Price couldn’t get him out of that.
Now he’s been freshly moved into his new flat. A nice place that his Ma picked out. A garage, basement, and even a fenced-in backyard.
"Your discharge is paying for all of this, can you believe it?" His ma coos as they sit out on the back porch.
Johnny hummed in acknowledgment, peppermint wafting up out of his cup to almost tempt him to try and take a sip. It tasted like shit but there was no other tea in the house.
“When's the nurse c-c…arriving?” Johnny asked, trying his best not to seem too eager. About as subtle as a bull in a china shop but his mother was never one to notice things like that. Mind already bouncing off to the next thing.
“Wednesday the text said I tink? Oh did you see the ramp that your friend Simon put into the garage, such a nice boy. Say do you reckon….."
…….. Maybe you were being impulsive but you accepted the position. You left your job at the hospital and moved towns over to be flatmates with a patient. But it was awfully hard to regret your decision when the pay was so good and you didn’t have to pay for boarding. And maybe there was some conniving part of you that wanted to spite your now ex after he cut things off claiming that you were cheating on him.
So here you were with half your apartment in a storage unit and the other in the back of your car. Unpacking your clothes just after you finished a lengthy conversation with Johnny and Mrs. MacTavish. Or well, more so the latter. It’s kind of impressive how far that woman can go with a single question.
The whole time Johnny is just sitting there watching you. At first, it was weird because ‘dude youre the one who wanted me here can you not act like i’m an alien’ then you stop to consider that maybe he doesn’t even want you here. That this might be just another case of the family being overly attached with no regard for the patient's feelings. Part of you feels bad now at the idea of him being the one truly forced into this situation.
Maybe this won’t be too bad of a job, you try to reason with yourself as your stomach twists in discomfort at the idea of living alone with a stranger. You can’t be too different from Johnny since your favourite scent is in the candle on the coffee table. The niche reality TV show you're obsessed with is playing in the evening. And he must like peppermint tea too since it’s one of the few things in the pantry.
…….
Johnny is doing everything possible to seem normal about his nurse. Who has to stay quiet as he watches you interact so perfectly with his mother because if he opens his mouth he will ask you to marry him.
He is sweating at the idea of having you within reach at all times, your attention only ever on him. No other call bells or charting or lunch breaks to keep you occupied.
Johnny who has picked up journaling at the recommendation of his therapist to try and organize his feelings and memories from the coma. It’s not even like he's trying to focus on you but when he tries to think back to the coma all he can remember is you. Your hands, your voice, your warmth.
Lists of everything you’ve ever told him to fill the pages. Your favourite shop that has such a good deal on hair conditioner, the spinning candle on your fifth birthday cake that made you scream, the butter chicken recipe you can never get right even with your friend hanging over your shoulder.
Johnny who has to try his hardest to stay quiet when you tell him about your first time skiing because he knows the end of the story. He knows how you cried and your mother fell off the lift coming off because you told him. So many little snippets of yourself you’ve already exposed during the two years he was under your care thinking he wasn’t listening.
But he was and oh he will use it in every way possible to lure you in. He sees how uncomfortable you are even just sitting on the same couch as him but that's okay! You just need some time.
In the meantime, he will just keep lying. Saying that your favourite flower seeds were just on sale when you spotted them on the table. Shrugging when you ask if he is sure about you taking the room at the back of the house because you mentioned hating the sound of the road. Asking his mum to help him make some roasted garlic butter because suddenly he actually cares about that. (You mentioned it at least a dozen times after your neighbour gave you some.)
#the intro to this was so painstaking to write and idk why#its done now and since everythings established i can write nonlinear scenarios now#finally gave johnny direct dialogue too#johnny soap mactavish#141#cod mw2#john soap mactavish#soap cod#soap x reader#soap x you
48 notes
·
View notes
Note
And yet you were wrong about basically everything leading up to this point.
You continually come up with reasons not to try, reasons to give up, reasons to roll over and die. But you’re not going to kill yourself like you said you would, so why not spend a fraction of that energy on doing something, rather than arguing with a stranger on tumblr?
I think I’m right about one thing: I think you won’t. I think you’re too pathetic, too scared, too weak. I don’t think you have the courage of your convictions—of any convictions at all, in fact. It’s easier to try to annoy a stranger than it is to actually do anything with your life. And you want what’s easy. You won’t do what’s hard. I think I’m not your problem, and Trump isn’t your problem, and fascism isn’t your problem. I think your own shitty attitude is your problem, and you have done and will continue to go through the rest of your life taking your personal failures out on the people around you, or on complete strangers, building a wall of anger up to avoid doing the hard work of actually trying to change either yourself or the world. I reckon even in your personal life you always have a reason to slap away every hand that reaches out to you, to spit on every proffered crumb of compassion or hope you are offered, so you are lonely and you blame other people for that too. To do otherwise would be to admit that all your unhappiness was at least somewhat your own fault—to have to acknowledge the pain of regret and missed opportunity. Every single anon ask you send me is proof of your inability to deal with your own shortcomings.
You could prove me wrong. You really could. You could log off. You could go to therapy. You could start doing something positive with your life, however small. But you won’t. You’ll send me another message. And another, even if I don’t reply. You will live your future life much the same as you have lived your past. I’ve been wrong before, but I’m not wrong about this.
#sorry dude but obsessively sending aggro asks on tumblr is objectively mental illness#you have way more immediate issues in your life#than donald trump
23 notes
·
View notes
Note
hii! just wanted to drop by this message to say I’m currently obsessed with the series of ‘loved you at your worst’. It has dragged me to pull out all folklore songs again 🥲 I just loooove your writing style and it amazes me how you can redact so amazingly <3 can’t wait for more chapters to see what’s next. Quick curious question: can you give us some more context on how invested was Rafe in the relationship with y/n? I’m curious how their dynamic was when both were stable lol. (I’m sorry if there’s misspelling, English is not my first language hehe).
your english is perfect don't worry, it's not my first language either!
im gonna try to summarize their relationship pre-big break up: rafe was SO obsessed with her, like genuinely all-in on this relationship. when things were good, they were perfect, they just clicked in this undeniable way—emotionally, physically, spiritually, they were just meant to fit. he wasn’t just invested; he was borderline consumed.
but it wasn’t just love, it was also their shared trauma. both of them had been through so much, and that’s partly why they felt so seen by each other. she got him in a way no one else did, and he craved that understanding (that's why shit hit the fan when she didn't coddle him when ward died). when they were stable, he actually put in effort to be open with her (his version of it), and she was his safe place and vise-versa. you’d look at them and think, “they're meant to be" yk??
but when things went wrong...it was a shitshow.
neither of them knew how to communicate their needs properly, so they’d just explode instead.
they’d go on those “breaks,” but they were still obsessing over each other, stalking socials, making each other jealous with a little flirting, just overall trying to be mean and hurtful but also checking in, very much toxic.
if they want any chance at real happiness together, they’re both gonna have to do some serious inner work, “heal your childhood traumas” level of work.
therapy? mandatory.
individual and couples counseling. they’d both need to face all that baggage, which is a LOT, honestly, given their history.
i know everyone’s mad at rafe for dumping her just because she called out his father—even if she wasn’t wrong—but remember, he was not in his right mind. he was drowning in grief, numbing himself with alcohol, desperate for any sense of validation, so yeah, he filled her space with someone else just to feel needed. it's messy as fuck and desrespectful, but it wasn't a calculated choice.
and here’s the thing: it’s been from reader's POV so far, so we haven’t seen everything. yes, she’s hurting, but she’s not entirely blameless either. there were so many situations she could’ve handled better, and you’ll get to see those moments from a different angle soon.
honestly, both of them need to grow up. while i love my baby reader to pieces, part of why she feels so isolated now is because she put all her energy into rafe and rafe alone. she never took the time to build friendships or let others in, assuming he’d always be there and she’d never need anyone else. so yeah, she’s alone while he still has people around him, but that’s not entirely his fault, either. they both need to work on themselves if they want to heal.
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
Title: With You (Dieter Bravo x f!Reader*)
Rating: A hard T, or a soft M.
Word count: 724
Warnings: Drugs; depression; self-hatred; suicidal ideation. Nothing is acted on, but it is all discussed.
*This is fully self-serving, so while I’ve chosen to list the Reader character as female and depict her as such on the header, there is no use of gendered pronouns or descriptors within the fic; Dieter calls Reader “babe/baby”.
Notes: This is unasked for, unwanted, unbetaed. I just needed to get some feelings out, and apparently the only pathetic way I could do that was to use Dieter.
(header by me; feather divider by @saradika-graphics)
“Babe?”
You don’t answer. You’re not even sure you would be able to if you wanted.
Instead, you sit cross-legged on the bed, staring down at the bottles in front of you.
It would be so easy…
You’re studying a bottle of Lexapro, wondering idly just how much would be enough, when you hear the faint sound of his footsteps outside the door. You try to quickly cover your tracks, tossing the blankets over your stash…
…but you aren’t fast enough.
“What the fuck?”
You meet Dieter’s eyes, dark and wide, like he’s seen a ghost. You open your mouth to try and say something, to explain yourself, but it isn’t fast enough. He’s sitting beside you quicker than you think is possible, his big hands digging under your blankets and coming up with the pill containers.
“What are you doing?” There’s a loud rattle as he tosses the bottles haphazardly onto the nightstand and fills the new emptiness in his palms with your cheeks. “Baby, no. Please talk to me. What were you going to do?”
“Nothing,” you breathe after several moments of silence. “I wasn’t… I wasn’t going to do anything. I just…” A long sigh, from the deepest parts of your body and soul. “I just realized how easy it would be if I wanted to.”
You force yourself to meet his eyes, and they’re wet and soft, and it breaks your heart in a thousand pieces to realize your stupid selfish moment of weakness is making him cry. You raise your hands to wrap around his wrists, closing your eyes against his soft thumbs pressing into your face.
“Baby, you’re scaring me,” he says; repeats it a few times. “Can I take you to the hospital? Can we get help?” He pulls your upper half closer, resting his forehead against yours. “I need you here. I can’t lose you. Please don’t go.”
“I wasn’t going to, Dieter,” you say again. “I— I don’t want to die. It just struck me that I could, if it got bad enough, if…”
You feel the sob that wracks him before you hear it pass his lips. “You can’t die before me,” he murmurs. Normally, this would be a joke, a way he teases you when you’re complaining about pain or frustration. Now, it’s pure fear. “This world needs you. I need you.”
Something breaks inside you, cracking the dull, near-numb ache you’ve been feeling, and you start to cry. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough,” you whisper.
He pulls you closer, so close you’re all but kneeling on his thigh, and he wraps you in the tightest hug you’ve ever felt. You close your eyes and breathe him in — the scent of weed, of patchouli, of wood and musk — and you wish that instead of not existing you could instead exist just right here for the rest of your life.
“You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met, babe.” He draws long, soothing lines along your spine with his fingers, but doesn’t release you. “But one thing I’ve learned in my eleventy billion hours of therapy is that strong doesn’t negate hurt.”
“Am I a coward for even considering the easy way out?”
That makes him release you, but only so far as to meet your gaze again. “Don’t you ever call yourself a coward.” Still crying, his expression is dark now, almost angry, but with a kind of softness behind it. “Would you think that if our roles were reversed right now? If you’d been with me any time I considered fucking offing myself in the past?”
“No…”
“So don’t you say that about yourself. You are not a coward.” He runs his fingers under your eyes, wiping away your tears. “I need you to understand that you’re not wrong for feeling this way, okay? I know it. I know it far too well. And I’m here with you.”
You sit that way for a bit, silent, but his hands resting still on your cheeks, yours on his shoulders. It should be awkward, but it feels…comforting. Grounding.
“Dee?”
“Yeah?”
You exhale heavily. “I think I need to talk to someone. Someone professional. And I want you there.”
He smiles, brushes your face with his thumbs, leans in and offers the lightest of kisses.
“I’ve got you, baby. I’m with you.”
#dieter bravo fanfiction#pedro pascal character fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#dieter bravo x reader#dieter bravo x f!reader#the bubble#dieter bravo#fanfiction#writing!
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
.
#ughhh#I’m pissed#I finally went to therapy for the first time in years yesterday#and they said they can’t help me bc I have relapsed with an eating disorder after years of being clean#and if I want help I need to go to inpatient#like#I’m fucking pissed#do you know how hard it was to sign up for therapy and sit through this stupid intake thing#with a condescend white woman#even though I said I’d only be comfortable talking to a therapist of color#and I WANT to get help#because I am activly looking for coping mechanisms to prevent another relapse#and these fucking bastards are saying tough fucking shit#ooooohh you have issues more than generalized anxiety disorder and minor depression#sorry freak#you are a liability and also we are gonna call the cops on you if we think you are a danger to yourself#like what the Fuck#I’m DOING the right thing and TRYING to go to therapy#and y’all won’t help unless I do inpatient??#fucking kys Jesus Christ
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
good lord my brain is running laps and i just wanna knock it out and get some goddamn sleep
#apparently just bc I figured it out my brain still isn’t gonna chill out#now i’m stuck between do i communicate and embarrass myself#in hopes that it calms down the fears that i’m already aware are probably irrational#or do i do my best to ignore it and hope my brain chills out on its own soon#and that in the meantime i don’t do my go-to moves when i overthink something#which are running away or getting mean#(not like. mean mean. but snarky. and a little harsh and irritable)#bc no one has done anything wrong!#myself included so far!#my brain just will not let go of this stupid fear#and it’s the same fucking fear that has haunted me on and off through every era of my life#i WILL NOT isolate myself or push people away that’s wildly counterproductive#and honestly i find it mind boggling that that’s even a response bc IT MAKES NO SENSE#anyway everything is changing and it’s fucking me up big time#there’s too many things changing all at once and tbh i’m fucking terrified#and this just happened to be the thing that finally pushed me into ‘cant fucking deal with this’ territory#and nothing has even changed! it’s all in my head right now!!!#it’s so fucking frustrating to know something intellectually but your emotions are off doing their own shit#‘you can’t think away emotions’ I CAN FUCKING TRY#it comes down to fear and anger at that fear and anger at change#i’m so angry and there’s nowhere to direct that anger#being angry at a concept or the very passage of time is just so unsatisfying and annoying#*change as a#personal#i’d say sorry for the vent posts but i can’t afford therapy so#and this is the next best thing
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
One of my brothers is moving away to college today + I have to skip therapy, so it’s a lot of… a lot. a lot.
#he was just a baby! he was just a little kid I carried around and took care of!#no nope. not gonna get into it right now. I WILL cry. it’s not even 6am and I do not need that right now#and I don’t really know if therapy today would really help#if I got into it I’d just start crying in front of this nice dude for an hour#though yeah… might be nice to.. I dunno… just talk about it.#I am always simultaneously ‘therapy is good’ and ‘what’s the point in talking about it?’#so maybe I do need that person that’s like ‘this is your time. just fucking talk.’#but also right now it’s like… talking about it won’t take me back to when my brother was little and far off from leaving#blegh…#whatever. anyway. it’s gonna be a sad day. I’m gonna cry A LOT. I’m gonna be alone in this apartment and just sooooobbbbbbing#and then keep this inside for another week before I can go to therapy and talk about this bc god forbid I talk to a family member about it#ok now it’s 6am. I think he’s leaving in about 4 hours. it’s cool. it’ll be cool. 😎 I’ll just miss my bro so dang much#but maybe I’ll walk down to the dollar store and stock up on snacks and I’ll get blasted and fatter and try to stay positive#uggghhh#I’m too emotional#time just keeps moving for us all. to my dismay.#’time is the fire in which we burn’#you can ignore this#I don’t think I’ll ever have kids. I’ll never have kids. and being there. with him. with my brothers. that was the closest I’ll ever get.#and it’s over… so… 🤷🏻♂️… it’s just done… they’re grown. and I’m still here. I don’t know what else to say…#but that’s life. they’re doing their thing. I’m happy for them and I want them to be happy too. I’m just a big crybaby#IAN!… stop typing!#just making myself sad at this point#it’s fine. it’s fine. I’m fine. I’m cool. everything’s… cool 😎#this isn’t important#text
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
on one hand I am very glad that ketamine therapy has been helpful for my severe depression and anxiety and ptsd and whatever else is going on up there, and I’m grateful that it’s available to me as part of my treatment plan
on the other hand I’m not a huge fan of the payment for that help being a 50/50 chance every time of having a bad trip that unlocks some deep scary part of my psyche and then having to address all of that in therapy until the next trip
#starlight personal#ketamine has saved my life and also scares the fuck out of me tbh#like I went into this trip being all ‘love and kindness gotta be nice to myself’ and it went ‘yes BUT -‘#and shoved me off a cliff into years and years of repressed existential anxiety and reminded me that I’ve had that since I was Very Small#bro please I just want to not off myself I don’t need to be unpacking deep childhood trauma rn I’m trying to buy a house#how am I supposed to buy a house when I now have to grapple with Deep Pain being brought to light#I was going to talk about house anxiety in therapy this week but that has now been derailed for -#I Am Terrified of the Universe and Always Have Been and Do Not Know How to Cope With This When It’s Not Repressed#and I do truly believe if it came up in treatment that it means it’s time to deal with it and learn to handle it#but like…….. I would’ve liked to be asked#not just thrown into the scariest psychedelic trip of my life and then left to pick up the pieces#anyway this is all to say that I’m once again cursing my genetics for not letting SSRIs work and leaving me with psychedelic woo-woo shit#like what do you mean I can’t take a pill and ignore some of this deeper shit what do you MEAN I have to face it#ketamine is very I Will Shine a Light on the Things You Have Hidden Whether You like It Or Not For Your Own Good#thank you I guess but right now I’m a bit grumpy about it#on the brightside I am hopefully going to be less depressed for the next two months until it wears off again so we love that!!!#hahahaaaaaaaaaa it’s fine we’ll be fine this will be good for me in the long run#what’s peace like I wonder I’ve certainly never known it
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
😢
#class today was HARD#I was struggling a lot today tbh#and of course this new guy started working in the care team#and he’s my age or younger#I’m sure I’ve vented about this before#but I get so incredibly jealous when it comes to young people doing good#and like it wasn’t just that#we were checking in and he did his and he said ‘happy’ and I swear I wanted to walk over there and choke him#so you’re saying you have a really good job that I’m sure pays great#and you’re happy#cool cool cool#both those things aren’t realistic or attainable for me#but whatever#I’m sitting in the parking lot and not sure what to do right now#normally I’d go out and smoke and chill for a bit#but since I’m trying to abstain it’s so hard#i did a lot of crying today so my eyes are tired#but I don’t want to sleep the whole day and waste it#ooooofda I should have left sooner#this family came out (parents and daughter) and of course they’re parked right next to me#and I see this mom and dad taking care of their daughter and showing up for her#fuck me I wish I had that growing up#anywayyyyyy#if you want to tip me so I can maybe go to a store and do some retail therapy#I wouldn’t say no#for now idk what I’m gonna do probably end up asleep 🤦🏽♀️🤦🏽♀️#shut up rosie
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Btw I’ve never talked to an actual medical doctor about my mental health issues so I have no idea how to go about it. Lol
#never been to therapy never been medicated. i just freeball my reality and my emotions and my mind#i did go to grief counselling briefly but the guy who did that was a volunteer. i mean i assume he had a certificate in something and he#absolutely did help me but he couldn’t diagnose or prescribe#i want to be diagnosed and prescribed if at all possible but i don’t know how and i don’t know if they will. i don’t know how to approach it#i mean i guess i should first address the biggest problem i’m having right now which is my mood swings and suicidal thoughts#i am worried though. like will i get sectioned if i mention the latter#like i don’t think i’ll actually do it and i specifically want help because i DON’T want to do that. but is me reassuring them of that#going to be seen as a red flag. because…#i also really don’t want to spend the whole time sitting there crying unable to talk but i probably will because i can’t talk about my#personal problems because my whole life whenever i try my mom screams at me until i stop#especially if i’m calm or apologise to her in any way. it just seems to make her angrier#it’s just like. i’m ngl the thing that’s probably helped my mental state the most was being on microgynon but i didn’t enjoy the other side#effects; and also my blood pressure is too high for it. and like.. i don’t need to take a birth control pill when what’s wrong with me#is my mood. like who cares if it’s just because of hormones. treat it all the time anyway#idk. idk! i don’t know what happens when you talk to doctors about this kind of thing. i don’t even know how bad my symptoms are#for all i know i’m entirely mentally stable. OR i could have ten disorders. i don’t KNOW#personal
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
I actually really fucking hate how anything in my schedule not going the way I initially Intended For It To just automatically makes me a massive fucking crybaby and or a raging bitch. Like dude. The grocery store does not hate me. It sucks that my schedule requires me to get there an hour earlier no matter what but like. They didn’t do that to me. Why am I always so upset whenever I have to change plans. I change plans too! I’m a living person!!! Why am I so fucking upset about this!!!!!!
#personal#im gonna delete this later I’m just venting#I’m also fine I’m just having a rough day and I can’t figure out why my emotions have been so fucking volatile. It’s so frustrating that#I can’t figure out how to get a handle on my emotions. I know I need to feel things but the problem is if I let myself feel them too much#Then I’m going to spiral or lash out at some random bystander and both of these make the initial feeling worse#I just can’t pull myself out of that quickly enough recently. It’s not an issue of ability bc I can. I just can’t do it.#wait that’s contradictory. I’ve been really struggling too recently. There we go. There’s accuracy.#Either way. Didn’t I spend all year in therapy last year trying to get this shit together? What the fuck.#Why is it the second I show a modicum of progress I immediately hit a single pebble on the road and get sent ass over teakettle#Progress isn’t linear but it also sure as hell isn’t meant to be a time loop. That I’m pretty sure of.#God everything’s just been so difficult this year. Shit that used to be almost instinctual to me now is a nightmare.#Maybe it’s growing pains and I guess that’s valid but how long do I have to have them#The good news is that thus far I have not snapped at anyone so at least right now we don’t have any casualties of my bad attitude#I feel so bad being so worried about that but like seriously no one needs me to be snapping at them. Even if I feel catharsis in the moment#We all feel bad immediately afterwards#It’s literally not even been a bad day today. I cannot emphasize how this has been the only problem today. Literally so much good happened#Ugh#dont look at me
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
I wonder if my brother remembers that one time he told me that I’d never survive in the real world
Because I think about it pretty often
#I think he was right#I am weak and awkward#i am overly sensitive#i can’t advocate for myself#my response to 90% of uncomfortable situations is to freeze#and my fears and awkwardness make me seem rude!!#I hate it!!!#but I don’t know how to change#I don’t know how to unlearn years of self hatred#I should go to therapy#but my last therapist sucked..#and searching is exhausting .-.#oh yeah. most days I can accomplish one (1) task at best#sometimes just existing is already so hard#and it feels like every time I try it’ll never be enough for others or for myself#but when people do compliment me I don’t usually believe them..#my family things I’m going to do something amazing. that I have to make the world better#I can’t even fix myself.#also my dad thinks my dream in life is dumb anyways :(
0 notes
Text
love me tomorrow |carmen berzatto x reader| part three
prompt: after time apart, you and carmen meet up for the first time since the fight.
or part three and the final part of the devastation fic (spoiler- the resolution haha). part one and part two can be found here :)
contains: angst. hurt with comfort (finally lol). mentions of mean!carmen, past fighting. past trauma, family trauma. carmen's been to therapy (yay). language. mom!reader x dad!carmen. fluff at the end, i had to make it a little funny and end on a light note bc it felt so heavy lol. word count- 4.7k+
“He’s here,” Sugar announced, the chime of a doorbell following nearly cinematically.
Your shoulders tightened, stomach twisting with an ache of nerves you tried to swallow. You were so nervous- why were you so nervous? He’d fucked up, not you. He was here to grovel and beg for forgiveness, not you. Still, you felt your hairline prick with heat, hands clammy when you heard the door opening downstairs.
“Okay,” You tried to steady your voice, exhaling slowly out of your nose. “I’m almost done.”
Sugar nodded, not leaving, keeping her post behind you. “You know you don’t have to do this.” Sugar looked at you through the mirror, arms folded over her chest, watching you carefully for a sign- anything that would give her a red flag, make her call this off.
“I know,” You swallowed your buzzing nerves, jittery in the pit of your belly.
“I’ll tell him to go away. You give me the word, and I’ll kick him out.” Sugar stood, pushing off the door frame and walking towards you. “Seriously. One wrong word, wrong look, anything, he’s gone. Say the word.”
You gave a small smile. “I think I’ll be alright, but thank you.” You muttered, looking down at your bare ring finger. You still found yourself reaching for your ring, heart spiking in a panic when you’d see it was gone, only to sink when you remembered why- why you left it.
“I feel like it’s time.” You admitted, trying to convince yourself more than Natalie. You were still unsure, so jarred and hurt by the last time you’d spoken to Carmen. The things he’d said, how he’d hurt you. “I think we have to figure something out.”
“You don’t have to do anything.” Sugar gave you a pointed look. “Trust me, if this was me, Pete would never live that down- never. He’d be at my mercy for the rest of his life, if I even let him back into it.”
You knew Natalie wasn’t joking, that she would do just as she said, but that was also easy for her to say; when Pete could not fathom ever thinking those things about her, let alone saying them to her. Sometimes you wished Carmen could be softer, a little more like Pete in that way.
“He’s been going to therapy,” Richie’s voice played in your mind. “He’s, uh, he’s doin’ good. Tryna get better for you, for both of you. He loves you, you know that, sweetheart. He’s just… He’s fucked up, y’know? We all are a little, but he’s workin’ on it.”
You hoped that was true. For your marriage, for your baby. Sugar and Pete had been taking Teddy to see Carmen. You couldn't bring yourself to see him yet, but depriving him of Teddy felt cruel and inhumane.
Downstairs, you could hear her gurgling, Carmen’s soft tone greeting her in hushed excitement. It soothed you, even for just a moment, it felt familiar- felt like home. What you’d missed so badly, what you longed for to have again.
“Uncle Carm, why haven’t you been staying here too?” MJ’s tiny squeak of a voice rang up the stairs, greeting you as you quietly crept down them.
“MJ,” Pete muttered, shaking his head gently. “C’mon, bud, you know Uncle Carm’s been on a business trip.”
“Right, yeah.” Carmen nodded, his hand patting Teddy’s back gently, soothing her and him. Just feeling the weight of her back on his chest, it put him at ease. She was bigger now, longer than he remembered, but he tried not to think about that, nose pressing into her soft tufts of hair.
MJ saw you first, his face falling into a pout. “Aw, does that mean you’re going home?” He whined, looking at you then back at Carmen. “Are you takin’ Anchovy and Teddy?”
Anchovy skittered towards you, running up the stairs at the mention of his name. He’d been a trooper with MJ and Maggie, both kids enamored with the cat who was less than impressed with them.
Carmen stiffened at the sight of you, spine rigid, heart skipping and falling in his chest. There was a pause of awkward uncertainty, neither of you sure what to say. “If you’re good,” Sugar stepped in. “Maybe your aunt and uncle will let you play with them a little longer while they go out.” She looked at you, shrugging gently at the suggestion.
You looked at Carmen, eyes meeting him in a brief, unsure gaze, before nodding. “Yeah, that would be- that would be great, MJ.” You gave a soft smile to the boy.
Carmen stood, passing Teddy off to Sugar with a quiet muttering of thanks. He met you in the doorway, hand reaching for yours, but stopping himself, pulling back hesitantly. Instead, he held the door open, letting you pass by him first.
The car smelled like a mix of cleaning supply, masked with car fresheners he’d stuck in the vents. He’d been smoking, more than usual, you were sure of it. He’d gotten down to one a day after Teddy was born, paranoid that he’d give her asthma or a rash or something worse.
“Um,” Carmen hesitated, his voice shaking in a way that he hadn’t since your first date. “I was… I was thinkin’ we could go somewhere t-to talk?” Carmen’s gaze met yours, lips pressing together, swallowing around the lump in his throat.
You nodded, your hands clasped in your lap, both of you too rigid, too uncomfortable. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” You looked down at your nails. “We could go get coffee? Go to the one by the restaurant.”
Carmen’s heart burned with a dull ache. The coffee shop a block from The Bear had been a staple in your relationship. When you’d first moved in together, to the shitty downtown apartment to be closer to the restaurant, Carmen would go every Sunday. Sometimes he’d pick up, other times you’d come with him, sit in the corner seat side by side in a booth- like the couples you used to roll your eyes at, lovesick.
Someone was already sitting in that booth when you got there, so you settled for a small two seater in the back, secluded and empty. Carmen brought you your coffee without asking, he knew the order by heart now, etched into his mind permanently.
“Thank you,” You muttered, accepting the paper cup, your eyes not meeting his, but your hands brushing. You didn’t pull away this time.
Carmen sat across from you, a dread filled silence falling thick between the two of you. His knee bouncing under the table. “I, uh, I wanna talk first if-if that’s good with you.” Carmen’s eyes lifted under his ball cap, pulled low on his head, curls peaking out.
You nodded, twisting the paper cup around on the table, too nervous to drink it. Carmen took a breath, trying to calm his racing mind. “Take a deep breath before you start. It’s ok to take a second to get your words in order, Carmen. Collect your thoughts.” Dr. Mullins’ words rang through his head.
“I wanna start by saying that I’m sorry.” Carmen looked at you when he said it, eyes rounding in a pathetically sweet way. “I-I’m sorry and I…I didn’t mean anything I said. I would never- It wasn’t you.”
You looked down at the table, the familiar heat burning in your nose and throat, a threat of tears already. “Hey,” Carmen said firmly, leaning forward. “C’mon, look at me. Please?” You look at him hesitantly, jaw clenching, trying to keep yourself from crying.
Carmen held your gaze, his lips pressing together in a tight line to keep his own emotions in. “It wasn’t you.” His gaze was intense but soft all at once, holding yours. “It… It was all me. All of it. I-I was overwhelmed, I was stressed, I fucked up, a-and-” Carmen’s voice cracked, breaking at the end, his hand running over his face to try and calm himself.
You felt your own eyes well with tears, chin ducking closer into yourself, leaning towards him. You wanted to reach out, to grab his hand that rested on the table, squeeze it in comfort like you always did. Instead, you looked at him, waiting for him to continue.
“And I shouldn’t have said any of that shit because-because none of it was true.” Carmen continued, his voice strained.
“So why’d you say it then?” You surprised yourself with the firmness in your tone, edging on a snap.
Carmen blinked, surprised but not entirely shocked. His knee bounced faster and faster under the table. He took a second, holding his breath before exhaling, trying to keep the growing tightness in his chest to a minimum.
“I was stressed. I was tired. I-I was overwhelmed, and… and I was an asshole.” Carmen admitted, but you still didn’t seem convinced. You knew him better than anyone, better than Dr. Mullins, better than even Fak or Richie or Sugar.
“I… I was hurting. I was hurting an-and I was so fuckin’ angry. I don’t-I don’t even know why I was so angry.” Carmen admitted, nodding slowly, eyes flickering from your gaze to his hands nervously. “I just… I think I wanted someone to hurt like I was hurting. I just, I don’t know, I wanted someone else to feel like I was, an-and I should have- it was fuckin’ stupid, an-and selfish, and…”
Your eyes were glassy with tears you tried to hide, blinking a tear that fell down your cheek, wiping it quickly. Carmen’s chest ached, burned with hurt at the sight of you.
“And I’ve never regretted anything more in my life.” He looked at you sincerely. “I-I-I never said anything more untrue and fuckin’ stupid in my life.”
“You…” You took a breath, your voice shaking with emotions. “You really hurt my feelings, Carmen.” You admitted looking at him. He nodded, jaw flexing, neck blossoming with splotches of emotion.
“I just don’t really understand how-how you didn’t mean to say those things. I mean, clearly you-you’ve thought that before.” Your voice lifted higher and higher, climbing with a cry that threatened to break. “I know you’re saying you didn’t mean those things, and I get that, but my problem is you’ve thought them before-”
“-No, no, I swear-”
“-You have, Carmen. Clearly you have. You wouldn’t- You didn’t just come up with that shit out of nowhere.” Your voice was beginning to climb, trying to level it out in the cafe, keeping your composure. You took a breath, pinching the bridge of your nose, pad of your thumb swiping the corner of your eye to catch a stray tear. “Just… Just don’t lie to me.”
Carmen pressed his hands together, trying hard to remember his breathing while his mind was racing. Sugar was right, it was uncomfortable, worse than he could have imagined.
“You’re right,” Carmen admitted with a nod. There was no point in lying, not to you, you always knew better, knew him better. “I-I did, but not-not like that. Not,” Carmen’s breath hitched, chest tight with a wave of anxiety.
“You know wh-when I was at the restaurant, and I… I would be ready to rip my fuckin’ hair out. Everything was just goin’ to shit, o-or we’d realize there was a critic on the books, or I’d forgot to order some shit, I’d be going fuckin’ crazy, ya know?” Carmen rambled, words spilling out in tumbles of jumbled truth.
“I’d go to my office for a second, just to-just to take a fuckin’ breath, and… and I’d check my phone and I’d see a text from you.” His heart swelled at the memory. You’d text him updates through the day, knowing he’d seen him when he could. Baby Teddy in her crib, Anchovy in the bassinet, her outfit for the day, nap time- all the moments he missed at work because you wanted him to see. You had considered him. Carmen missed it more than words could describe the past days, checking his phone out of habit, hoping to see a little OOTD with a smiley face and a wrinkly baby Teddy attached- instead, he saw nothing.
“I’d just… I don’t know. I was sittin’ there, just fuckin’ stressed o-or angry, and then I’d see that and I-I’d feel,” Carmen paused. Gather your thoughts, gather your thoughts.
“I felt… I just felt weird about it?” Carmen’s brows pinched together, looking at you for help, unsure. Your face fell, his heart lurching with fear.
“No, no, no, no. Not-Not like that. I- fuck, that’s not what- I love the pictures. Love them. I-I- They’re the only things that get me through the day, it-it’s not that-” Carmen stuttered out, head dropping into his hands in defeat. Way to go, Berzatto.
“Felt weird?” You repeated, calm, your way of soothing him. Keeping your voice even, steady without any tones he could read into and spiral. It was second nature at this point. “Weird how?”
“It made me feel like… like I was, I was missin’ out.” Carmen admitted, eyes shining bright and a little wide like they always did when he’d finally admit something. Wide eyed, scared, almost, like he shouldn’t have told the truth.
“I felt like, I’m at work, an-and you were at home with Teddy, and…and I felt like I was bein’ a shitty dad. Like I was there too much, an-and I’d miss out on her, and then I’d miss you, I’d just…” Carmen threw his hands out lightly, cheeks puffing with a slow, shaky exhale.
“I was jealous, maybe? Ma-Maybe that’s the word, but I just… I didn’t want to be there, and I know,” He lifted his voice before you could begin to speak. “I know I’m th-the boss, and-and I get that. And it’s not- it’s not your fault. It’s not your fault you’re home- I’m glad you’re home, I am, because you’re doin’ so much. You are, an-and I know that, I know. You’re-You’re doin’ the most important job in the fuckin’ world, I mean, you’re keepin’ ou-our baby alive.”
Carmen laughed humorlessly, a scoff that turned into a sniffle, shaking his head. You sat quietly, listening to his words, taking them in with a slow nod. Carmen looked at you, trying to read you, taking in your expressions. Your shoulders less tense, tired, face neutral but he saw the way your lips twitched, holding back a cry.
“Just sometimes when-when I’d be in the shit, I’d just want to be home.” Carmen admitted. “I’d want to be home, but… but I knew I couldn’t be. I knew I had to-to take care of things, take care of you an-and Teddy, and I don’t- fuck, I don’t mean it like a bad thing. I like doing it, I mean obviously I fuckin’ do, it’s just- it-it’s a lot sometimes and I get-”
“-Carm,” You cut off his ramblings, reaching across the table, your hand sliding over the top of his, squeezing it gently.
Carmen thought his lungs might have given out, his heart too, looking down at your hand in awe. Bolts of electricity shot through his body, tingling at his skin that touched yours with excitement. He’d missed this, missed your touch, missed you. It felt surreal, sitting here, feeling you, seeing you.
“I’m sorry.” Carmen whispered, turning his hand to hold yours. Hands clammy, fingernails bitten to the quick. His fingers intertwined in yours, holding your hand so tightly your fingers tingles. He held your hand like he was scared to let go, like if he did he might never get to hold your hand again.
“I’m sorry. It-It wasn’t fair. It..It’s not fair.” Carmen squeezed your hand, shaking his head lightly. “You didn’t… I don’t know how to say how much you mean to me.” Carmen looked at you, eyes glassy, red rimmed with tears that gathered at his water line.
“I, uh, I-I tried to- Well, Richie’s thera- my therapist told me to, uh, to try an-and write out what I wanted to say to you. Take time and reflect and give it to you, but I, uh, I was up all night because I kept starting over.” Carmen rambled on.
“Everything I was tryna write it just… it didn’t feel like enough. It didn’t do you justice.” Carmen looked up at you, thumb brushing over your knuckle gently. “I felt like it just wasn’t enough. They’re aren’t any words to describe you. To…To describe what you mean to me, an-and how much I love you.”
You swallowed back a sob, looking into his eyes. An intensity you hadn’t seen since he said his vows, maybe more now. “I-I love you so much, and… and I don’t deserve you. I don’t fucking deserve you.” Carmen choked out, a sob slipping out between his confessions.
“I-I’m a fuckin’ loser, an-and a psycho, and I-I’m a shitty dad and husband…And I-I’m fucked up, and you-you chose to love me anyways. An-And to marry me, and have a kid with me- start a family with me. And what do I do? I fuck it up, and I don’t deserve you. I never have, an-and I never will.” Carmen rambled, tears sliding down his cheeks freely, leaning towards you, shoulders stuttering with a choking of tears.
“Don’t say that.” You sniffle, shaking your head. “Don’t say that-”
“-No, it’s true, it’s fuckin’ true-”
“-No, it isn’t. Carmen, don’t say that.” You reach your free hand out, cupping his cheek across the table, thumb swiping over his cheek, wiping away a stray tear. You held him, feeling the heat in his cheeks, he turned into your touch, breath slowing.
“You’re not a loser. You’re not a psycho. You’re not a bad dad, or-or a bad husband either.” You leaned forwards, closing in the gap between the two of you, the edge of the table digging into your stomach. “You made a mistake-”
“-No, that’s-that’s- it’s worse than that. It’s so much fuckin’ worse than that. Don’t-”
“-You made a mistake.” You said, firmer this time, cradling his cheek in your hand.
Carmen took a breath, squeezing your hand in his, sniffing deep to keep his tears in. “I don’t… I don’t want to be like my parents.” He whispered, eyes rounding in a scared way. “I-I don’t want to fuck up you o-or Teddy or… I just don’t wanna end up like them. I wanna be different.”
“You’re not gonna end up like them.” You shook your head softly.
“No, I-I was actin’ just like them.” Carmen muttered. “Yellin’ at you a-and actin’ like a complete fuckin’ lunatic. Just like them, an-and I don’t wanna live like that.”
“You won’t.” You reassured him gently, whispering across the table. He shook his head in protest. “Carm, listen to me. You’re… You’re not like them, ok?”
You could feel Carmen start to shake, a trembling through his system that was a tell-tale sign of a panic attack. Your eyes scanned over the restaurant, filling up with the mid-afternoon rush. “Come on,” You nodded towards the door, pushing your chair back, hand still in his. “Let’s get some air.”
Carmen didn’t argue, he wouldn’t- couldn’t even if he wanted to. Your hand in his, squeezing his gently, pulling him towards the car. Carmen pulled the keys out with shaky hands, unlocking the door. He reached for the passenger door, but you pulled the back door open instead, surprising him when you slipped in the backseat, nodding at him to follow you. You squeezed into the middle, Teddy’s car seat pressed to your back, Carmen pressed into your side, shutting the door.
“You’re not like them.” You broke the silence, turning yourself towards him. “You’re not.”
Carmen leaned his head back against the seat, tears leaking out of his eyes. “You-You don’t have to do this, say that.” He shook his head. “I don’t deserve it.”
“Carmen, you’re not like your parents.” You reached for his hand again. “The fact that you’re scared to be like them, scared and trying to stop it, that shows me you’re not like them.”
Carmen’s chest stuttered, a hissing of a cry leaving his lungs. “You made a mistake.” You swallowed, your own heart aching. “But… But that doesn’t mean you’re as a whole a bad person. It just means you made a mistake, and if you learn from it and become better, then it’s ok. It’s a lesson learned.”
Carmen nodded, eyes squeezing shut, tight like he was trying to keep everything in. “I just…I really fucking miss you.” Carmen admitted through a wobbly voice, eyes still closed. “I-I really miss you, and… and I want you to come home.”
You shook your head, tears sliding down your cheeks. “I miss you too.” You whispered, squeezing his hand. “I missed you so much.”
Carmen turned, arms wrapping around your body, pulling you tightly into him. His nose pressed into the top of your head, breathing in detergent that didn’t smell like what you used at home, shampoo, too. You held onto him, fingers digging into his shoulders, pushing him further and further into you until it felt like your bodies were meshing together, fusing into one.
Whispered apologies shared through teary, wet sniffles filled the space. Carmen’s nose rubbing against yours, hesitating before he kissed you. You pulled him into you, finally soothing the aching longing that had built in your chest, your lips catching his, the two of you staying unmoving, wanting to feel the other. Clinging to each other, hands grabbing, lips parting, Carmen pressing you against the car seat, hand cradled on the back of your head.
“I-I understand if you still don’t wanna come home.” Carmen muttered, breath hot over your cheek, nose rubbing against your skin. “But I really fuckin’ miss you.”
“I miss you too.” You muttered, lips buzzing against his neck, tears hot and trickling onto the collar of his t-shirt. “I-I want to come home.”
“A-Are you sure?” Carmen’s eyes lit up with hope, though he tried to hide it, the way he always did; too scared to let him get too excited, too hopeful because he always feared it would end.
“Yeah,” You whispered, nodding gently, balling the back of his shirt between your fingers.
“Yeah?” Carmen repeated, lips pressing together to keep his cry in, a different one this time. One of relief. For the first time in days, he felt like he could breathe, like his lungs weren’t constricting and on the brink of collapse. His mind didn’t race and cloud with delirious confusion. No, here and now, holding you, Carmen had clarity.
The both of you stayed in the back of the car, holding the other, chest to chest until your heartbeat became the same, steady rhythm, matching the others.
Carmen held your hand on the drive back, pressing wet kisses to your knuckles, trying to wipe his eyes of any tears. “Can’t let Pete see me cryin’ again.” He muttered. “That was a new fuckin’ low.” You had giggled softly, enough to have his heart fluttering. He’d never admit it out loud, not now, anyways, that he was thankful for Pete. How he’d taken care of you, of Teddy, of Anchovy. He’d stuck up for you, even if it was against Carmen, and that meant the world to Carmen.
Pulling into Sugar and Pete’s house, Carmen shoved the gear shift into park, his hand still in yours, both of you sitting in each other's company for a minute longer. Just a little bit longer the two of you, before you had to face the others.
“Oh, uh, one more thing.” Carmen’s thumb ran over your knuckles before he let go of your hand for a moment, raising up in the seat to dig into the front pocket of his jeans.
“I, uh, I brought your rings back.” Carmen’s voice dropped, a shake in his words that matched the shake in his hands, pinching your wedding band and ring in between his fingers.
You swallowed at the sight, Carmen holding the ring between his fingers, it took you back to years before when he’d proposed. Nearly as nervous as he was now, just as shaky, but for a different reason.
“You don’t have to put them on or anything. I don’t- I’m not tryna make you do that, it’s your choice, obviously. I just,” Carmen took a breath, looking at you. “I thought you might want them back.”
You paused for a moment, looking at the rings, the sting of the last time you saw them still burning and aching in your chest, but this time, it wasn’t as crushing. It was more of a dull ache, a tiredness that came with it instead of devastation.
Reaching out, your fingertips tickled his palms, gathering the two rings in your hand. You looked at them, turning them over in your hands. “Thank you,” You mumbled, looking up at Carmen. He swallowed, giving a nod, trying to mask the hurt that you hadn’t put them back on- you didn’t miss it.
“Do-” Your voice caught in your throat. “Will you put them back on?” You blinked at him, wide eyed, asking so sweet, Carmen thought his heart might give out entirely.
You held the rings out towards him. “Will you put them back on for me? Please?”
Carmen didn’t deserve you. The notion rang loud over and over in his head again, throat burning, welling up with tears. He didn’t deserve you. You were too good, too fuckin’ good for him.
His hands trembled, holding yours and slipping the rings back onto your ring finger, back to their rightful place. Carmen twisted them, a deep breath of a sob that was threatening to break filling the space. His fingers intertwined with yours, free hand cupping your jaw, pulling you into a kiss over the console.
Sugar looked out the window, peeking through the blinds. “What’re they doin’ out there?” Pete whispered behind her, like the two of you might hear them. “Do they look happy? Sad? You don’t think it went bad, do you? I mean, Carmen can be-”
“-Pete,” Sugar snapped with a soft huff. “Look for yourself.” She moved, biting back a small grin.
Pete slid in her place, pushing the blinds apart, sneakily looking out the side of them. He could see the two of you in the car, Carmen’s hands on the back of your head, holding you while you leaned across the console in a deep, passionate kiss.
“Well, lookie there.” Pete grinned, letting the blinds fall. “I guess there was a happy ending after all.”
Sugar rolled her eyes, lips twitching in a small smile. “He still has a lot to make up for. I hope she didn’t let him off the hook too easily.” She grumbled, crossing her arms. “But I am glad they made up. I would kill Carmen if he fucked things up with my favorite sister-in-law.”
Pete let out a small laugh, looking out the window again. “The kids are gonna miss Teddy and Anchovy when they go back. MJ’s gonna be devastated they’re taking them.” Pete muttered, Sugar nodded.
Pete paused for a moment, looking behind him with a soft frown. “Y’know, this is gonna sound crazy, Nat, but I’ll be kinda glad when Anchovy is gone.” Pete admitted in a hushed tone, like Anchovy might hear him.
Sugar snorted lightly. “Yeah. Except MJ and Maggie will be begging for a cat of their own. They’ve already started and I told them-”
“-No, I mean,” Pete turned, watching the orange cat slink around at the top of the stairs, Anchovy glaring down at Pete before disappearing to the guest room. “I don’t think that cat likes me.”
#thebearer#bearblahs#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto x reader#the bear#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto#dad!carmen berzatto#dad!carmen berzatto x mom!reader#carmen berzatto x reader angst#carmen berzatto angst#dorothea “teddy” berzatto#anchovy berzatto#natalie berzatto#sugar berzatto#pete the bear#richie jerimovich#carmen 'carmy' berzatto#carmen berzatto x fem!reader#carmen berzatto x female!reader#carmen berzatto x pregnant reader#carmen berzatto x pregnant!reader#carmy fluff#carmy berzatto fluff#carmen berzatto fluff#the bear fic#carmen berzatto fic#carmen berzatto x you#carmy the bear#carmy x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
ending 2 for tolerate it! this was my original idea for the ending!
I just wanted to clarify that I’m writing these two endings bc of the feedback I’ve received. The first ending is for those who wanted them to reconcile/make amends, and I wanted to give those readers some closure.
this ending is for those who want reader to be happy without him (which was my original idea lol). anyways I know a lot of people didn’t like ending 1 and that’s okay!! but here’s ending two, I hope you like it better :)
[ also, this takes place in between the time that reader leaves simon/price and the last line of part two! ]
part one here, part two here, ending 1 here
your friend graciously let you live with them for a few months while you got back on your feet.
you went to therapy. stopped crying whenever you thought of him or even his name. started taking care of yourself again.
you move out and find this cute little house. it’s small, cozy. you adore it, and your friend helps you move in.
you make it your own with colors and trinkets and pictures. there’s nothing in that house that serves as a reminder of your time with him. you’d gotten rid of all the pictures, all the gifts he’d bought you before things turned sour.
fuck him. he didn’t deserve to see your growth and your happiness. he didn’t deserve anything from you.
you get used to being on your own again. it’s nice. you don’t worry about a man who is halfway across the world. don’t worry about baking a cake for his return or setting up streamers. don’t worry about how damaged he’ll be when he walks through the door.
you’re happy. you love your job, your home, your friends. you treat yourself to coffee every wednesday afternoon, and that’s when you meet him.
you’ve ordered your coffee and are sitting at one of the cafe’s little tables, scrolling on your phone, when a man clears his throat.
you look up, and he’s got the kindest smile you’ve ever seen.
“hi,” he says, and you give a small smile as you click off your phone.
“um, hi?” you say, a little unsure of why he’s speaking to you.
“not to sound weird or anything,” he begins, and you give a small laugh.
“y’know, whenever someone says that, whatever they say next does tend to sound weird.”
he nods, that smile on his lips growing a smidge wider. “right. so, I guess this will be weird then, huh? but I’ve noticed you here every wednesday, and I just wanted to tell you you’re beautiful.”
you blush. you don’t think a man has ever been so straightforward with you, and although you do think it’s kind of weird, you try to just focus on the compliment.
but your guard is up. you don’t know him.
“oh, thank you. that’s sweet,” you reply, and he’s still looking down at you.
“can I sit?” he asks, which takes you by surprise.
“um, sure? I guess?” you say, and it sounds more like a question than a statement, but he’s sliding into the seat across from you.
he introduces himself, and you tell him your name. he says it’s pretty. you’re starting to think he’s coming on too strong.
but as the two of you begin to talk, you start to realize that’s just who he is. he’s a flirt, a flatterer, but it’s good natured.
it’s easy to talk to him. he keeps the conversation going, and he seems generally interested in what you have to say. it’s a stark difference from your last relationship.
but then he tells you he’s military, and your heart nearly stops.
“oh,” you say, a small frown on your lips.
“that an issue?” he says, and his tone is teasing. he doesn’t know— how could he? but your face says it all.
his brows furrow, and he gets serious for the first time since he’d sat across from you. he starts to reach for your hand, but decides against it. again, the two of you don’t know each other, and he’s aware of that.
“I don’t have a good track record with men in the military,” you tell him, trying to lighten the mood. he can tell something’s wrong, but he doesn’t push. he takes the bait, and you’re grateful. it makes you like him even more.
that’s why you end up talking until the place closes. the employees are practically shooing you out as you and the military man apologize profusely.
you’re on the sidewalk now, and he’s smiling at you. you find yourself smiling back.
“d’you mind if I get your number?” he asks.
as much as you enjoyed talking to him, you’re still unsure. you just recovered from everything that happened— are still recovering. you don’t want to rush into anything. so, you shake your head.
“if you’re serious,” you begin, looking up at him. “I’ll see you on another wednesday.”
he nods, a mischievous smile on his face. “im up to the challenge.”
you give a small laugh, then tell him goodnight. you turn and begin to walk towards your car, and you’re smiling like an idiot.
you don’t want to get you hopes up, but that little naive part of you— a part of you you’d thought was dead and gone— is making you. you try to stamp it back down.
next wednesday, you don’t see him, and you’re a little sad about it. you don’t see him the wednesday after that, either.
you don’t see him for a few months, actually. and after a few weeks, you’ve stopped thinking about him.
but then one wednesday, you’re sitting in that coffee shop, and there he is.
he’s wearing a short sleeve shirt, and you can see fresh cuts and scrapes along his arms. he asks if he can sit, and you oblige, gesturing to the seat across from you.
“sorry for disappearing on you,” he says, and you shake your head. he doesn’t owe you anything. you barely know each other.
“that day we talked, i ended up gettin’ deployed a few days later. didn’t have your number, so…” he trails off with a cheeky smile, and you grin as you roll your eyes.
“so im to blame, hm?” you say, and he nods.
“oh, absolutely.” he’s teasing, and you laugh.
“then let’s amend that.” you hand him your phone and he lights up. he taps his number in quickly before handing the phone back to you. you send him a quick ‘hi’ so your number will pop up in his phone.
“didn’t forget about you, though,” he says, and you blush. this man certainly has a way with words. “that’s why im here. glad to see you’re still a creature of habit.”
“is that a bad thing?” you ask, and he shakes his head.
“nah, I don’t think so.”
your phone chimes then. it’s one of your friends, asking you if you can come over. you type a quick reply and start to gather your things.
“leavin’ so soon?” he says, and you give a small nod.
“friend emergency.”
he nods. “understood. well, I’ll see you around then, yeah?” he smiling as he pushes himself out of his chair.
“you do have my number now,” you remind him. “we don’t have to wait on chance encounters.”
he hums in agreement. “that’s true, but I prefer face-to-face, y’know? especially since yours is so pretty.”
“you’re a flirt,” you tell him, but you’re blushing, and he chuckles.
“guilty.”
you bid him goodbye and walk towards the exit, your mind instantly shifting gears to your friend. you don’t think about the military man again until he texts you that night.
‘friend okay?’ he types.
‘all good.’ you respond.
he’s typing back for a good minute. the bubble disappears, then reappears.
‘if there are no more friend crises for the foreseeable future, and im not shipped off to fight bad guys, how about a proper date?’
you smile as you read the message.
‘sure.’ you respond, and he sends back a smiley face.
a first date turns into a second, then a third, then a fourth. they’re spread out over a year because of his job, but you don’t find yourself minding that much. he treats you so much differently than the last man did.
he eventually asks you to be his partner, and you say yes. of course you’re a little hesitant— things with your last military man started off good, too. but you feel like it’s different this time. he’s different.
you don’t know it, but every time he’s deployed, he talks his squad’s ear off about you. tells them you’re the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, and that you’re so funny. tells them he’s gonna ask you to move in with him.
but he never mentioned your name. maybe he forgot, or maybe he just didn’t want to share that piece of you with them.
“you never shut up about this lover of yours,” simon/price says one day while they’re eating in the mess hall. although they’re not in the same squad, they’re friends, and they happen to be on base at the same time. “no way they’re real.”
your man just grins and holds out his phone, showing off his lockscreen. it’s a picture of you with your head thrown back in laughter. he’d taken it on one of your dates.
simon/price’s face darkens almost imperceptibly before he masks it. that’s you. he hadn’t thought about you in ages, but he knows that’s you in that picture. now everything comes rushing back.
your lover doesn’t notice the other man’s expression shift. he doesn’t realize that the man across from him knows you.
you had told him more about the man who broke your heart, but you’d never mentioned his name. you didn’t want to risk him knowing him.
it’s a good thing you’d never mentioned the name, because if your lover knew, he’d punch him in the jaw.
the conversation eventually shifts away from you, and simon/price is grateful. your man is none the wiser.
when he gets back home, he asks you to move in. you tell him no at first. you’re still a little broken. he understands, and doesn’t hold it against you. he takes it in stride, and you’re grateful.
you don’t know how you got so lucky this time. you don’t know how this man, who was so understanding, so kind, so caring, had practically fallen into your lap. maybe it was karma from your last relationship.
the universe crushed you once, and to make up for it, they dropped this man into your life. whatever it was, you were thankful.
the second time he asks you to move in with him, you say yes. he helps you with everything, and the whole time he’s smiling like an idiot. even when you almost drop a shelf on his toe, or when you argue with him about where to hang a picture.
you two end the night eating take out on the couch and watching trashy tv. he decides right then that he’s going to marry you one day.
a few months after you move in, he tells you he wants you to meet his friends.
you’re nervous, but he reassures you it will all be fine. tells you that they’ll love you. so, you get yourself ready and then he’s helping you into his truck, and your leg is shaking the whole way to the bar.
he puts a comforting hand on your knee. gives you a dazzling smile.
“they’ll love you,” he tells you. you nod.
when you get to the crowded bar, he leads you by the hand inside. you’re towed along behind him, so you don’t see his friends until you’re standing right in front of the booth they occupy.
you scan their faces, and you don’t recognize any of them. you’re thankful— a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders. he introduces you to them, and you fit in easily.
the night is going well until your man mentions simon/price’s name. he couldn’t know, you’d never told him. he was telling the story of how simon/price hadn’t believed him when he was talking about you.
the rest of his friends were laughing, but you were tense. he noticed immediately, shoulder nudging yours as he leaned down to whisper in your ear.
“you okay?” he murmured, and you nodded.
he could tell you were lying, but he didn’t push it. didn’t even bring it up again until the two of you were home.
“how do you know simon/price?” he asked you as you hung your coat up on the rack. you frowned as you turned to face him.
“he was the one I dated before you. the guy who broke my heart. the one I told you about, remember?”
your man goes silent. he’s looking at you, his fists clenched at his sides. he believes you. there’s not a doubt in his mind, even for a second, that you’re not telling the truth.
“I didn’t want to tell you his name,” you admit, taking a step towards him. “in case you knew him. didn’t want to make things complicated.”
he’s still silent, his eyes trained on you as you slowly approach. an expression you can’t name paints his face.
“I understand if you want to end things,” you tell him, and that gets him moving again. he’s shaking his head. “I don’t want to come between you and your friends.”
“fuck him,” he spits, and he reaches his arms out to you. you step into his embrace and take a shaky breath. “fuckin’ bastard. I showed him a picture of you, and he didn’t say anything. I was gonna invite him tonight, but he’s on assignment, and—” he inhales sharply as his hands rest on your back. “and now im gonna break his fucking jaw.”
you push yourself back, your eyes finding your lover’s. you shake your head. “it’s not worth it. besides, don’t make any enemies within your base. you’ve got enough of those already.”
you can tell he wants to argue, but he doesn’t. he nods after a moment. silence fills the room.
“we don’t run in the same circles, usually,” he tells you, his voice quiet. “known each other since enlistment. got assigned to different squads. kept running into each other, though. kept in touch.”
“you can still—” you begin, but he interrupts.
“no, fuck him. I can’t be his friend when he’s treated you like shit. fucker will be lucky if I don’t blacken his fuckin’ eye.”
you don’t say anything. you pull yourself back towards his chest, and he holds you tight.
you don’t say anything, but your heart swells. this man, the one in your arms, is everything that he wasn’t. he doesn’t tolerate you, he celebrates you. loves you unconditionally. communicates and compromises. doesn’t pull away.
that’s why, when he asks you to marry him a month later, you say yes without thinking. because you don’t need to think.
the ceremony is small. friends and family gather and celebrate the two of you. you laugh and dance and drink the night away with the love of your life by your side.
and you don’t think of the man that broke your heart anymore. don’t give him the time of day, because you’ve moved on to something far greater. you’ve moved on to what you deserve.
a few years down the road, when your husband has finally retired, you’re making your way down the road to meet him at the coffee shop that brought you together.
someone calls your name, and your blood runs cold. you know that voice, and although you haven’t thought about who it belongs to in years, you doubt you’ll ever truly forget it.
he’s calling your name from somewhere behind you. you don’t turn around.
instead, you pull open the door of the coffee shop, step inside, and smile when you see your husband sitting at the same table you’d met him at all those years ago.
——————————————————————
author’s note:
ending 2 is finally here! while writing this, I originally pictured the reader getting with Gaz/johnny; however, I wasn’t sure how that would turn out.
how would they still work with simon/price after knowing everything? how would you go so long without hearing about/meeting gaz/johnny’s squad mates?
I didn’t know, and that’s why I scrapped the idea. You can still picture them, though! but I thought it best to have the love interest someone kinda detached from the 141.
anyways, hope you enjoyed :)
#cod mw2#cod mw2 fic#ghost cod#cod x reader#john price x reader#captain price x reader#captain john price#john price fic#john price#john price x you#simon riley x gn reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley angst#john price angst#captain price angst#angst#fluff#kyle garrick x reader#kyle gaz x reader#john soap mctavish x reader#call of duty fic#ghost call of duty#price call of duty#captain price fic#captain price
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Why did I cancel therapy and then cry about it
#i bet that woman put down the phone thinking ‘yep we’re gonna see her again’#calling up two weeks later like hiiiiiii actually i’ve changed my mind. i am not well <3#the thing is. i know i’m not well but the overall concept of unpacking all those issues with some random stranger makes me feel like i’m#going to throw up. in other words i’m resistant to it. which… idk. i just feel like i’m not going to get anything out of this until i’m#ready to accept that i need help. which right now; i genuinely feel fine most of the time#when i DON’T feel fine… brain worms. BRAIN. WORMS. but most of the time? i’m okay#the thing that has given me the MOST anxiety out of everything that has happened this past week has literally been the therapy appointment#if i can calm down and achieve equilibrium by just not going to therapy why wouldn’t i do that? i know it’s not a no brainer but it feels#like it is. like i know the anxiety is going to come back… i have a job interview on thursday and that’s going to be bad#on the other hand i still think it’s a normal level of anxiety. maybe i’m in denial but i don’t think so#i think i need to get my blood pressure down so i can go back on birth control. i’ve been avoiding salt really well and trying to move my#body more. my watch puts me at 111 over 74 which.. i feel may not be entirely accurate just because it’s a fucking watch#but considering i’m usually at about 100 over 80 i don’t think it’s far off#i really do think 121 over 85 was a one off. i believe it. i feel it#if i go back on microgynon my mood will stabilise so hard even god won’t know i have a problem#in other words. i can’t put salt on my potato wedges. :(#personal
1 note
·
View note