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ohtobeleah · 1 month ago

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Day Eighteen [I Love You, Always]

Summary: When an unknown man comes into the cafe looking for who he calls “The Mutant” Logan’s world is once again turned upside down when you make the ultimate sacrifice.

Warnings: Logan Howlett x F!reader. Main character Death. Logan Whump. Mind Control. Possession.

Word Count: 5.1k

Whumptober Prompt Day Eighteen: Mind control, possession, “Everybody will end up despising you.”

Author Note: Please make sure you read the warnings provided. Disclaimer: I do not condone nor endorse the actions that are written about during the month of October. These works of fiction are just that, fiction and should be treated as such. Thank you to @ailesswhumptober for this year's prompt list.

Whumptober Masterlist | Main Masterlist | ILYA Series

In the 1800’s, one of the most common reasons a woman visited the doctor was ‘Hysteria.’ A now-defunct diagnosis, hysteria was used to describe a wide array of symptoms: chest pain, anxiety, a swollen abdomen, and mood swings. They tried a variety of treatments for hysteria ranging from rest to psychosomatic therapy.

But true relief for these women didn’t exist until physicians tried using what they called pelvic massage. The cure was called ‘Hysterical Paroxysm’ which today has come to be known as an orgasm.

Modern medicine continues to recognise the stress-reducing benefits of the female orgasm. But doctors no longer perform the cure.

When done properly and consensually, sex can be medicine. We know it reduces stress and strengthens the immune system. It even rejuvenates your brain activity. But sex without connection can leave you feeling empty. Friendship, laughter, simple human touch, are stress relievers too.

Because truly, it’s about connection. When you’re physically close to another person the nervous system responds, the body is flooded with feel-good hormones, and everything else just fades away.

“I specifically remember there being a no mutant policy behind the counter, Logan,” You cooed as Logan came barrelling right around the front counter of the cafe.

“You never put that in writing,” Logan growled as he immediately made a direct line to the little girl sitting on the floor babbling away to herself. “You can’t discriminate against senior citizens either.” He teased with a wink, knowing that the old man jokes hit you where it hurt. There was no secret there was a two-hundred-plus-year age gap between the two of you.

“Ha ha,” You sighed as you went about your closing duties, having a look back at the days taking on the square machine. “For a senior citizen, you sure are looking good,” Logan raised an eyebrow as he momentarily turned his head over his shoulder to catch your gaze. Only to turn soon thereafter, his attention back to the little girl who had captivated his entire heart without ever so much as speaking a single word of grace.

“Your mother is a serious flirt ya little Runt,” Logan teased as he picked your seven-month-old up off the floor. “She might have to clear her schedule later if she keeps it up, won’t she?” Logan cooed, knowing full well that the smile that crept itself across the little girl’s face had nothing to do with what he was saying, but rather from his presence. “Back in my day, they would have prescribed a pelvic message for your mother’s current condition,” Logan teased as he bounced Ilya on his hip playfully. “I'm no doctor, Runt, but I might have to perform one tonight.” Her slightly chunky self was ever so delighted to be in the safe embrace of the man she knew to be her guiding light in life. “How are my girls doing today?”

That very question was one laced with love and admiration. Logan Howlett had lived a long, tortuous life. But in this new universe? He swore black and blue he’d found his forever home with two people he couldn’t live without.

When you first met Logan Howlett, your first impression was that the brooding man in the booth off to the side, was going to be one of those customers who were more trouble than they were worth. He never wavered for the first few months. It was always the same interaction. Before you knew his name, you just knew him by his coffee order: One large black coffee, no sugar, no syrup, just bitter black coffee that could rival tar.

“I see you’ve had the pleasure of meeting this ray of pure sunshine,” Wade was the connection, he’d come into the cafe one morning trailing behind the brooding man you’d come to know as a regular. The man with beautiful eyes full of torture and despair. The man with the aged appearance, the auburn locks, the dated clothes that smelt of burning embers and bourbon. A tortured poet if there ever was one.

“Y/n, this is Logan–” It was nice to finally have a name to go with the face. “Sorry, he probably hasn’t introduced himself yet, he has a disorder,”

“Would you shut the fuck up?” Logan growled under his breath as he fished his wallet out from the back pocket of his jeans. His eyes immediately softened when he met your gaze, drinking in the sight of you as you waited for the two of them to order. “I was going to, I just–I’m not,” You could tell that Logan was struggling to get the words out, you could see his mind racing around trying to find the right ones to say.

“One black coffee, right?” You smiled softly, saving the enigma of a man from his latest version of hell. “What can I get for you, Wade?”

“Surprise me. I’m feeling kinky so make it extra sweet,” Wade replied with a chipper smile. Wade’s antics never shocked you anymore. He’d become a regular over the years he found himself on Gore Street long before Logan had first stepped through your doors. Your humble little coffee shop sat nestled in the middle of the somewhat low-income neighbourhood. Coffee on Gore was seen as a wayward haven for the underprivileged in life. But no matter who walked through your front doors, they treated you with respect. You gave them a safe place to just breathe. A priceless commodity.

“Coming right up,” You replied as you went about making Logans regular order and something sweet for Wade. It was only when you came out to their table that Logan spotted the name you had written on his takeaway cup. Before you’d never had a name to write on it, but now you did.

Logan - The Brood

The friendship only grew from there. Often you found yourself sitting across from the older man in silence. He’d speak infrequently, but always had the time to listen to you talk about your day, your achievements, your problems. Soon enough? Logan found himself in your little coffee shop every day. The coffee shop soon turned to your bedroom, your car, your kitchen, living room and bathroom.

It wasn’t until your daughter turned six months old that he smelled the mutant blood that coursed through her veins. Little Ilya was a Howlett, but Logan never asked you about it. It didn’t matter when he’d been treating her like his own since he held your hand during her birth. He knew why you’d keep that card close to your chest. He’d been around the block a few times to understand that he wasn’t your average guy.

“I’m the worst version of myself,” Logan could remember saying one night as you sat straddling his waist. “But I’m not a violent dog,” He swore in that moment he could see your silhouette draped in the belt of Orion. “I don’t know why I bite,”

“How can you be the worst version of yourself? I only know this version,” You cooed as you carded your fingers through Logan’s hair, revelling in the deep hum that came from his chest at your touch. “You aren’t so bad,” You whispered softly. “Besides, I usually bet on losing dogs anyway.”

“You better not tell me you love me right now, Darlin,” Logan replied, knowing that if you did, he’d say it back without hesitation. “I can’t have you being obsessed with me.” You could read between the lines with Logan, for you he was an open book on a public library shelf. He loved you, you loved him. Things were just……complicated, to say the very least.

“Love you?” You teased as you leaned in to cup Logan’s scruff-covered cheeks. Cheeks that adorned a soft crimson. Caressing the pads of your thumbs over the harsh hairs. “Honey, I dunno if you’re that lucky,”

“We’re good,” You smiled as a heat spread across your cheeks at the very thought of being one of Logan’s girls. “She’s been a little fussing today, but now you’re here I’m sure she’ll settle.”

“Oh, is that so? We’ve been a fussy little monster huh?” Logan sat the little tot he knew deep down was his daughter on his hip as he came to stand behind you. He worked to sneak a gentle hand around your waist, drawing you back into him. Encapsulating you entirely. The aroma of your perfume captivated him wholeheartedly. A scent he’d never forget even if he tried. “It’s a good thing I’m here then, huh Darlin?”

“You really are full of yourself, aren’t you?” You couldn’t help but chuckle and shake your head in soft defeat as Logan kissed your cheek tenderly. Only for you to crave more of his affection and chase after his lips over your shoulder. For a moment, time stood still as your tongue danced with Logan’s, your daughter gently clawed at Logan’s cheek as she tried to gain his undivided attention back on her. With his eyes and your nose, the perfect combination of the two of you, how could she be anything else?

“Ilya,” Logan cooed as the little girl he held tenderly slapped at his cheek, enough to coax a chuckle from deep within his old soul. “Okay, okay, sorry Darlin, this little one is in serious need of daddy-daughter time.” The second Logan pulled away, time began to move again. His touch brought you comfort, love, and desire. So much so that every night as you put your little girl to bed, you thought about what a life with Logan would be like. A life without the bureaucratic tape the two of you saw yourselves tangled in. A life without confusing titles, or uncertainty surrounding what you truly meant to one another.

For now, though, friends with incredible benefits boarding on boyfriend and girlfriend status would just have to do.

“Daughter and strange old man who keeps coming into her mum’s cafe, time.” You corrected Logan playfully, knowing full well he was her father. There was no one else who had your heart like Logan Howlett did.

“Not the only place I keep cumming,” Logan was quick on the draw to fire right back as he raised his eyebrows and faked a shocked expression. “Who said that?” He grinned ear to ear as Ilya chuckled and held onto Logan’s flannel sleeve.

“You’ve been hanging around Wade way too much for your own good,” If you had rolled your eyes any harder, you probably would have fallen over as you shook your head and returned to recording today’s takings.

“He’s kinda the only friend I’ve got beside you. I don’t really have any choice in the matter,” It was the way Logan referred to Wade as a friend that made your heart swell inside your chest. To even say that word, to refer to someone as a friend, that was a lot. The man you loved unconditionally and unapologetically had come a long way in the time you’d been blessed to know him.

“Who ever said I was your friend?” You sent Logan a shocked expression as he placed a hand over his heart. “Oh, who said that?” You followed up with a chuckle, looking around the empty cafe, twenty minutes until close.

Logan let you win that one, he knew you had things to do for the next half an hour. He threw your daughter up into the air playfully and took a few strides back towards you.

“I’ll leave you to work shall I?” The small little nod you gave him in response with the tight-lipped grin of agreeance was all Logan needed. “I’ve got the Runt,” He reminded you innocently as he pecked at your cheek before rounding the corner of the front counter, Ilya in his arms. “I’ll take you for a walk,”

Your little family may have been unconventional, but they were all you needed in life. The ring in Logan’s jeans weighed him down, so much so that if he were to go swimming, he’d sink to the very bottom. He was ready to take the leap. He wanted you forever. He wanted you and only you for the rest of his days here on earth. Labels didn’t matter to Logan, but he wanted the world, and the next, to know that you were his and he was yours.

In hindsight, being dragged to this universe was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He had a daughter now, a tiny human that relied on him. He had a beautiful woman who loved him, although unconventional, Logan knew wholeheartedly that the love that ran through his veins was reciprocated in every breath you took.

**************************

“Oh, I’m so sorry, but we’re closed,” There is a portion of the cerebral cortex of our brains, folded deep within an area between the temporal and frontal lobes. It’s called the insula, and it’s where desire starts. “We open at five-thirty in the morning though, if you want to come back another time?” You politely told the man who had come through the front door only a few seconds before you could make sure to lock it. He didn’t look a day past forty-five, but the smell of rotting flesh made you gag. When was the last time this guy had a shower or used any sort of soap?

“I’m not here for coffee, sweetheart,” We’d like to imagine that we’re in control, but more often than not, the chemicals in our brains control us. “I’m here for The Mutant,”

The very mention of the word mutant had you on edge immediately. Not many people when around referring to people they knew like that here. It had the tiny little hairs on the back of your neck standing to attention.

“The who?” The insula lights up, and we’re compelled to change our lives. Compelled by longing. Compelled by yearning. Compelled by a desire for more. “I don’t know anyone by the name of that.” It was the first thing that came to your mind, to deny deny deny.

“You sure?” His wickedly evil smile told you all you needed to know. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way, my dear,” The man grinned as he walked further into your cafe. “I know she’s been here recently, her scent is still lingering.”

With the use of the pronoun ‘her’, your blood ran cold. No. She couldn’t be. Why had that thought never crossed your mind before? Your baby girl, half human, half mutant. You should have expected her to be just like her father. She was only a baby, just a little girl. She hadn’t shown any signs of being anything less than ordinary. But a switch inside you had flipped as your brain processed the new narrative you had just been exposed to. As you stood behind the counter, your eyes darkened with the very desire to protect your little girl at all costs.

“If you were here for her father, there’s a small part of me that would have allowed you to try him,” You warned. “But you’ll have to go through not only me, but him, to get to her.”

“So I guess we’re doing this the hard way then?” The man sighed as he looked up to the roof above. For a moment he stood still and closed his eyes, the silence that surrounded the two of you in your empty cafe was deafening. “I’d like a cup of coffee.”

Before you knew what you were doing, you were going about making the man who had threatened to take your daughter a coffee. It felt like someone was inside your mind, dancing with your own desire.

“You’re a telepath–” You asked as you went about making the man his coffee, an order you somehow already knew but had never made before.

“You’re a perspective one, aren’t you, dear?” The man chuckled as he slid into the bar stool at the front counter. “Your daughter processes a unique genetic code, one that could see the beginning of a new generation of mutant children,” He explained as if it wasn’t a big deal. A life-changing exchange. “I need her for my collection of children, some would liken me to the Charles Xavier of the new generation,”

“Over my dead body,” You hissed as you poured the fresh batch of coffee directly from the pot into the clean mug sitting in front of the man.

“More–” He growled as he watched the coffee lap at the sides of the mug. No matter what, you couldn’t stop pouring no matter how hard you told yourself to stop. “More, dear,” He added, watching as you struggled to fight against your own actions. “Burn yourself, go on.” He snarled as you moved your hand under the steaming stream of fresh hot coffee.

“Ahhhh!!” You screamed out in pain as the boiling liquid scolded the palm of your hand. But you couldn’t stop yourself, no matter how hard you tried.

“Stop,” The man demanded. Immediately you stopped the coffee pot and raced over to the sink to cool your hand. Blisters appeared almost immediately. “You see, you can stand here all day and waste my time talking about how you’d never let me take what I came here to collect, but my dear I’m telling you right now, I’ll always get what I want.”

**************************

“Alright ya little Runt,’ Logan chuckled to himself as he held a bouquet in one hand and his daughter in the other. She could sit happily on her father’s hip all day. “You reckon your mother will like these?”

There wasn’t much of a response from the little girl who was just happy to be out and about with her biggest protector. But as Logan rounded the corner towards the cafe, he could smell fear radiating down the block.

Your fear…..

His stride got a little wider, his pace got a little quicker, and his heart rate jumped into the stratosphere with panic. Logan was on a mission to get back to you as quickly as he could. What could be happening back at the cafe to have you smelling with such fear, such panic, such fright?

“I think we need to drop you off at Uncle Wade and Grandma Al’s house,” Logan spoke out loud to himself as he raced up the small set of stairs that led up to the townhouse Wade resided in. The best thing about the cafe was that it was within walking distance from where Logan usually laid his head down to rest. “Come on, let’s get you somewhere safe so I can go help Mum.”

It wasn’t long before Logan was bursting through Wade’s front door, the small rundown apartment was enough for the three of them, but it wasn’t a place for a child. It would have to do for now until Logan knew what was wrong. He couldn’t risk taking Ilya back to the cafe, not with how much fear he could smell from down the block.

“Wade!?” Logan growled as he looked around, dropping the bouquet on the ground as he did so. “Wade, you blistered fuck, where are you!?”

“I’m banging your mother,” Wade called out as he rounded the corner, freshly showered with a towel hung long on his waist. “Hi honey, nice to see you too,” His demeanour immediately changed when he saw the worry on Logan’s face, the panic in his eyes. The fear in his old soul. “What’s going on? Why is the little crotch goblin in my house?”

“Somethings wrong at the cafe,” Logan explained as he handed over his little girl. “Stay here, no matter what,” He ordered. “Do you understand me, you walking nut-sack? Don’t leave this house, don’t let go of her for anything.”

“I’m all over it like a bad rash,” Wade said as he nodded in response and held his friend’s daughter in his arms. “Go, I got her.”

**************************

The human body is full of energy. Sprinting at full speed, it produces enough wattage to power anything in your house. So just imagine the wattage, the magnitude of power that surged through Logan’s body as he raced down the street towards your humble cafe. The scent of fear was prevalent in the air around him.

Your fear.

“I’m coming, Darlin, I’m coming.” The human cells are built to move charged ions through the cellular membrane. And the nervous system is a highway of electrical signals, zapping through your muscles and brain.

“Y/n!?” Logan shouted as he barged through the cafe door, eyes as dark as what he once thought his soul to be. Scanning around the somewhat trashed cafe, hoping, praying, to see you breathing. “Y/n! Darlin!? Where are you?” The silence was all Logan was met with as he took notice of the mess. You’d put up some sort of a fight at least.

Chairs were knocked down haphazardly. Cutlery lay strewn around the cafe from the tops of tables that had been moved around. It wasn’t how you’d ever have the cafe looking on its worst day, even after that one time Wade brought a street brawl inside.

“Logan,” Your voice was barely audible, but to Logan? He heard you loud and clear.

Across the cafe, you laid in a pile of broken glass. Beaten. Bloodied. Bruised. Logan could feel his heart racing as the pain of seeing you in such a way took over his primal desire to kill whoever hurt you.

“I’m here,” It was the first two words that Logan spoke as he crouched down to hold you in his arms. “I’m here, Darlin. Who–who did this to you? Who?” It was a charged question, who had done this to you? Your mind was fuzzy, like a grey cloud of fog had plagued your memory, your mind.

“I–I don’t remember,” You coughed. Logan saw the blood that came up as he held you tight in his lap. Embraced in his arms where no one could ever hurt you. “You,” You struggled to speak as you fought off unconscious. Logan knew you were in a bad state, he could see it in the way your eyelids fluttered, “You need to–to leave.”

“Why would you say that?” The human body runs on positive and negative charges, all obeying a basic law of physics… opposites attract. “I’m not going anywhere, you hear me?”

“Ah, The Wolverine,” There’s a lighting in everyone. Opposite charges find each other. They connect. They spark. And as long as they do, your life goes on. Your cells keep multiplying. Your brain keeps thinking. “What an honour.” Logan’s eyes left you only for a moment as he looked around the ruined cafe to see where the man’s voice had come from.

“Who the fuck are you?” When Logan finally caught the man in his line of sight, he knew he had to let you go to protect you.

“Me? I’m just a simple man who’s come to collect the next generation of your kind,” The man who’d turned your entire world upside down, explained to the love of your life as you struggled to stay conscious. “Y/n here, well, she’d a means to an inevitable end, unfortunately,”

“Listen to me you piece of shit,” Logan growled as he stood in front of where he’d laid your badly injured self down. “No one hurts the people I love and gets away with it, do I make myself fucking clear, Dumpster-diver?”

“Lo, don’t–” Your body wants to move, so it moves because it can. Life is electricity. Positive and negative. Creation and destruction. Destruction, sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse. “He, he wants Ilya.” You remembered as the cool tiles caressed your burning skin.

“Smart woman you’ve got yourself, Wolverine,” The man with the rotting flesh and the undesirable stench of a thousand rotting corpses smiled ear to ear. He took a few steps towards where Logan stood protecting you. “But the smarter you are, the more you know,” He sighed. “Happiness is an unfortunate trap, my dear friend,” He chuckled to himself. “It can’t last forever.

“Listen, bub, I’m not your friend,” Logan growled as the claws came out from between his knuckles. He was ready to fight for his family. The only family Logan had ever truly had. “You leave my family alone before you pay for your mistakes with your fucking life.”

“Logan, Logan, Logan,” The man repeated to himself as he entered the mind of the adamantium man, rendering him completely under his possession. “Let’s say you’ve met the love of your life here,” Logan struggled to remain in control of his mind and body, but as he struggled, the more he realised he’d lost any ability to control himself or his thoughts.

“Well, it’s gonna end, isn’t it? It’s inevitable… whether by the slow pull of a disease or the shock of loose footing on a hiking trail. Whether it be the corrosion of two personalities that reshape each other until they’re incompatible.”

“What are you doing to me?” Logan growled as he turned back to face you lying in a pool of your own blood. “No, let me go!” Logan shouted as he dropped to his knees before you, truly breaking at the seams of his clothes trying to take back his own body. Fighting an invisible, powerful force controlling every fibre of his being.

“The point is son, happiness always ends. The best-case scenario is that you die at the same time, but that would just be too easy, Logan.” Logan trembled as his mind was clouded with grey clouds until they were all he could see swirling in his line of sight.

“Kill her,” He heard a voice whisper inside his mind, through the clouded fog. “Kill the very woman you love,” The man commanded as he smelled the familiar scent of a child mutant growing stronger with every passing second. “Everybody will end up despising you.”

Wade had begun to grow more and more concerned for his friends as he paced around the living room holding little Ilya in his arms. With hesitation and a whole lot of worry, Wade had left the safety of his humble apartment and headed on foot down towards the cafe.

“Kill her,” The command was too strong for Logan to struggle against. He felt his claws dive deep into the torso of a body lying before him. Cluded with the grey fog, his mind told him he was in danger. “She's going to kill you. Kill her before she has the chance to kill you, Logan.”

“AHHHH!!!” Your blood-curdling screams of unimaginable pain cleared the fog in Logan's mind as he felt himself regaining control. By the time he’d woken from where he’d been locked inside his own mind, his adamantium claws had slashed through your stomach, still buried deep inside your guts as he came back from the very darkness of his own mind. “Lo–”

“Oh god,” Was all Logan managed to say as he retracted his claws and tried to stop your bleeding. “No, no no no no no,” The panic was all-consuming. The fear was unstoppable. “Y/n, Darlin, no fuck! I didn’t mean to,” Logan scooped you up into his arms as he tried to stop the blood from gushing from your wounds. Wounds he’d been forced to inflict on you, the love of his life. “NOO!”

“Ke-keep,” You gagged on your own blood as you looked up at Logan, the man you loved for all his perfect faults. “Ilya,” It was hard to remain conscious, everything self so cold. “Safe,”

“Don’t you leave me,” Logan cried as he shook and held you tight. Your blood was seeping into his jeans, his flannel, into his skin. “DON’T Y/N!”

The ring of the font doorbell took Logan’s attention away from you for five seconds, but he never let you go. He watched as the man who’d done this to you walked out, following a scent he was bloodthirsty for.

“She’s yours, Lo,” You whispered as Logan returned all his undivided attention to you. “Ilya–”

“I know,” Logan cried. He watched as his tears fell onto your blood-stained cheeks. “I’ve always known. I love you so much, Y/n, you can’t do this, you can’t leave me.”

“Ilya, Logan, my love,” You tried to explain as you reached up to caress the bearded cheek of the love of your life. “I love you, always,” You had never told Logan what your daughter’s name stood for, but as those words left your mouth, Logan understood. “Protect her, promise me?”

“I can’t lose you,” Logan cried as he leaned down to kiss your lips, they were cold to the touch. “Stay, stay with me, I love you, so much,” Logan knew you were fading, he could see it in your eyes. But denial had him in a chokehold that revenge couldn’t even pull him out of. “You’re the love of my life,”

“I know,” Was all you said back as a peaceful calm washed over you. “Protect our daughter, Logan,” You whispered as blood pooled in your mouth. “I love you, always, but she n-needs you.”

When you’re physically close to another person the nervous system responds, the body is flooded with feel-good hormones, and everything else just fades away.

“But I need you!” Logan cried out as he watched your life fade from you. “Don’t go!” He shouted at the top of his lungs. “Y/n?” Logan shook you in his arms, waiting for you to wake up, begging the heavens above to give you back. “No! No! No no no Darlin come back, WAKE UP!”

At the realisation that your soul had left your body, Logan broke. He cried and shouted and held your bloodied body until his instincts kicked in. He wasn’t sure how long he held you for, or how long he allowed himself to hate what he had been forced to do. But to you, Logan was the only version of him that you had ever known.

To you? He wasn’t the worst Logan, he was simply Logan.

“I love you,” He cooed as he kissed your lips and closed your eyelids. “I have to go save our baby girl,” Logan wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince himself to leave you or if he was letting you know that he’d be back. But either way, he left the ring he carried around in the back pocket of his jeans on your left ring finger.“I love you, always.”

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#logan wolverine #logan howlett #the worst wolverine #worst!logan x reader #ailesswhumptober2024 #ailesswhumptober #whump #angst #logan howlett x reader #deadpool and wolverine #james logan howlett #James Logan howlett x reader

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un-love · 5 months ago

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— afternoon | kmg

mingyu x f!reader

a/n: i wrote this last august and forgot about it. self indulgent asf bc my period is a horror story 💢

“good game, guys. i’m gonna log out now.” putting his headphones aside, mingyu was greeted by complete silence in the house. it had been an hour since he left the bedroom to let you sleep in peace. the week of your period was always a hard time for you. hard is an understatement, really. he couldn't physically understand how you felt but the first time he saw you cry out in pain and struggle to walk yourself to the kitchen, he had decided to be there for you without you ever having to ask for his help; that’s the least he could do after all. the little widgets on his phone notify him of the approaching doom every month without fail, and one might even say he’s as prepared as you now (maybe more).

as he approaches the living room, his ears perk up. he opens the door carefully, and catches you wincing as you try to sit up. you look even worse than how he left you, somehow. sunken eyes and disheveled hair, there really wasn’t any way to romanticize this pain. “why didn’t you call me?”, he whispers and immediately springs into the practiced routine he’s got down. you're too far gone to protest as he props up your pillows, gets you a reheated hot water bottle and orders you to open your mouth as he makes you take your prescribed pain meds. regaining some consciousness after feeling the burn of the hot bag on your skin, you can’t help but smile at the concerned expression on his face as he assesses you. the way his brows furrow and a little pout appears on his soft lips soothes some of the ache in your body.

“what are you smiling at?”, he asks. “you’re just so cute like this. worrying about me and all.” the look he gives you is one of fondness. it’s somewhat relieving for your boyfriend to see you talk like this, despite the state you’re in. he could tell how disoriented you were by the way you hadn’t met his eyes the whole day. “who said i’m worried?”, he says cheekily, before disappearing into the kitchen again.

“i don’t feel good; i think i’m going to throw up”, you call out from your new resting place on the couch, chewing on scraps from the kitchen for lunch. mingyu had asked you to move to the couch (read: carried you) so he could change the sheets and clean up the room a little. it still felt embarrassing to have him take care of you like this, but his kind eyes and kinder hands made you go along with whatever he said.

thinking back, you had tried to avoid seeing him the first few months after you started dating, for this very reason. he knew you were having a hard time with your diagnosis, so he never wanted to push you too much; until the day you had woken up in a pool of blood with him next to you on your bed. you had sobbed endlessly (from frustration, pain, embarrassment) before threatening to poke his eye out with a butter knife if he ever made fun of you for this. this was all very bizarre to your new boyfriend, who grew progressively more concerned for you after that. had someone made you feel bad for something like this before?

a head pokes around the door with a determined expression you could read extremely well. another wave of nausea rocked over your body. “don’t come close to me, kim mingyu. i haven’t showered since yesterday. i stink.” “but you don't know what i’m going to s—” he tries to go on but you cut him off. “the sound of the air conditioner is making my skin crawl.” “but-” “the fabric of my tshirt is touching my skin in the worst ways and the birds won’t stop fucking chirping outside the window and you- you’re here seeing me like this. i want to dig a life sized hole and bury myself in it right now. just go away, please.”

he’s careful when he comes closer to you and stops right before sitting on the couch. “baby, i promise you, nothing about you can disgust me. unless you do something unforgivable like putting milk first in my cereal bowl”, he says, and you finally look at him. success. “and i’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want. but can i get you something else for the pain or a hot drink first?”

how could you say no to him when he looked at you like that? with those big brown eyes, trying his best to read your face. freshly washed bangs falling into his eyes, and his pretty hand outstretched towards you. your eyes get distracted by his tongue coming out to wet his bottom lip, a nervous habit of his you found adorable. in the split second between his question and your response, you imagined pulling him by the shirt and kissing him breathless. swatting away the (welcome) visual in your head, you let yourself fall against the soft cushions, the fight leaving your body. it's time you let somebody love you.

fin.

#i'm scared to post this #period comfort #kim mingyu #mingyu x reader #mingyu fluff #mingyu imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen #svt #svt x reader #svt fluff #svt blurbs #svt scenarios

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audiovideodisco · 29 days ago

Text

I’m sorry I always said the wrong thing.

You have a crush on your Aussie colleague, but have given up on ever being his type, or even someone he respects. People never change, right?

cw: fatphobia, medical talk, negative self image if you squint, mildly suggestive, swearing

word count: 920

requested: no

sfw: yes

ship: robert chase x reader

characteristics: plus sized reader, g/n

You walk into Princeton Plainsboro with a coffee in hand and a face like a slapped bottom. Your patient was a fairly overweight teenager who had a heart problem, but despite the team - unsurprisingly - attempting to attribute the problems to their weight, that wasn’t the case. As a plus sized person, you felt sick coming into work for this case. House was making a point of asking you things that you couldn’t know about the patient - just because you’re fat… and Chase… well, that was the main thing. You knew how he felt about fat people, it was always a personal flaw. He hadn’t said anything awful yet but it reminded you that you’d never be good enough for him.

The case carried on as usual, treatments putting the young teens life in danger over and over, with no hope of a diagnosis, and then cure, in sight. The DDx office was eerily quiet, only the lights in the hall illuminating the table in front of you as you sat at the desk trying to think. After a few minutes of what felt like brooding rather than thinking, you hear footsteps, and then a swoosh of blonde hair enters the office.

“[Y/N]? What are you in here for? Why are you sitting in the dark…?” Chase asked as he came in to rifle through a drawer.

“It’s not dark, the hall light is enough.”

“That’s- are you… are you alright?”

Your head snaps up to see he’s stopped rifling through the drawer and appears to have what he came to look for. Instead of leaving, he’s looking directly at you with a mix of concern and curiosity. Quite frankly, it pisses you off, big time.

“I’m fine, Chase. Trying to think of what’s killing our patient, before they actually die because everyone else is so focused on their weight rather than-“

“Hey- woah- woah-“

You don’t let him continue his protest, taking a breath and composing yourself,

“House wants you to do an EKG.”

“He said that-?”

“Yeah.” He looked at you with his mouth agape for a second, before closing it, nodding and walking out.

The case continues, and eventually House is able to make a connection that saves the teenager’s life. It’s a relief that the case is over, and the teenager is going to be alright, but you can’t shake the horrible feeling in your stomach. The DDx office is empty again, so you go in there just to sort through your paperwork before going home.

“Hey…”

“What the fuck do you want, Chase?”

“Woah… have I done something?”

“Doesn’t matter, just leave me alone.”

He frowns but doesn’t leave, instead coming up behind you slowly and placing his hand gently on your shoulder. You flinch a little so he lifts his hand again, but when you don’t push him away, he puts it back again.

“What’s going on…?” He asks, almost in a whisper.

“Chase-“

“Was it this case? House?”

“I expect it from House, and you to be completely honest…”

He mentally scolds himself and sighs, trying gently guiding you to face him.

“I… I have said so shitty things before, I’ll admit… I didn’t know you knew…”

“What, so it’s okay as long as your one fat friend doesn’t hear it? Well that worked…”

“No- no- I… I was wrong. I’ve been wrong every time, whether just about the diagnosis, or the simple fact of that is none of my business… I’ve been trying to unlearn thinking and speaking like that- I-“

You stare at him a little shocked, his hand still on your shoulder as you now stand only a few inches apart. He looks down slightly at you, seeing the way your eyes glistened from angry tears that threatened to spill. He carries on speaking, his voice now even more hushed and soft,

“Not that I decided that I needed to sort my shit out because I met you- Uh, but… I… I really like you, actually.”

His heart pounds in his chest almost as loudly as yours as he searches your face for any sign of a response.

“I know I probably blew it, but… can I take you out, on, like, a date?”

“Are you serious, or is this-“

“I mean it. You’re…” Your faces are centimetres apart, his breath fanning against your lips as he struggles to finish his sentence, and his other hand finds its way to your waist to pull you closer.

“[Y/N]… I need you to tell me it’s okay to kiss you… I don’t want to cross a line you don’t want me to cross…”

Your chest heaves as you whisper,

“…yes.”

The kiss is tentative at first, Chase’s lips moving slowly to make sure you wanted this as much as he did. As you began to reciprocate with a bit more energy, he picked up the pace, bringing his hand from your shoulder to the nape of your neck, and pulling you as close to him as you could be-

“HEY!”

The loud shout makes you both pull apart, hands still on eachother, his hand threaded in your hair and yours in his chest. You look around you as you both try to catch you breaths, cringing when you lay your eyes on House.

“IF YOU WANT TO MAKE OUT, GET OUT OF MY OFFICE. ALSO- FUCK YOU. I OWE WILSON $50 NOW…”

House storms off, his cane tapping alongside his footsteps, and you both giggle as the tension fades.

#house md #james wilson #gregory house #hatecrimes md #greg house #robert chase #dr chase #robert chase x reader #chase x reader #plus sized reader #house md fanfiction

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w3r3theli0nshunt · 4 months ago

Text

POV: Task 141 + König finds out that you’re autistic

Task 141 + könig x autistic!reader

Okay okay a little self indulgence here. But this is also to somehow spread a positivity regarding the spectrum and also encourage people who feels insecure about being neurodivergent. This applies to anyone, not a specific gender.

And for people who don’t really relate, it’s fine. It’s normal to be different and it’s okay to be different.

There are some sexual themes here, but mostly wholesome fluff MDNI!!!!!!!!!!! - and sum angst as well

❤︎︎So here’s a lil authors note: You can still be loved and appreciated with or without the diagnosis🫶

★He’s definitely got ADHD or is at least on the spectrum, so he doesn’t judge you at all

★He’s a yapper and can’t help it, so when you tell him to stop talking so you can peacefully gather your own thoughts, he stops with a few whines along

★He’s a very touchy type and he loves touching you, and sometimes he forgets to keep distance when you tell him to stop

“Soap! Not today, please. I’ve been stressed”

“Dinnae worry, luv. I’ll try, but I cannae promise”

★He’ll be a little difficult to process your diagnosis, getting used to new habits, having to break old ones but he doesn’t really complain

★He gets really confused and stressed out not knowing what to do when you get (if) you meltdowns

★When you’re on dates, he makes sure to take you to a place that is less crowded so you don’t get stressed out

★When you feel mentally tired from socialising, he tries his best to keep distance and remain quiet so you can recover peacefully

★(If) sometimes you enjoy feeling pressure on you, it’s your way of stimming, he’ll happily lay above your body and fall asleep

★Gets really happy when you finally give him a peck or a kiss, or even a hug

★Sometimes he lets you squeeze his bicep or thigh as a way to stim, sometimes he even lets you try and braid his short Mohawk

★If you don’t like the consistency or taste of food, he’ll get you your ‘safe meal’ that he knows you like

★Sometimes you’re awfully quiet and distant, he takes it as if you’re mad at him and he tends to get worried

“I’m not mad at you if that’s what you think”

“Still cannae help it, I just dannae want ye ta leave me fer being touchy”

★He’ll steal kisses from you, making them quick so you can’t react

★He’ll miss the frequent sex like he used to have with his exes, but he’ll still love you as much.

★Not really familiar with the diagnosis, but he sure as hell do his research

★He’ll almost act like a dad would with his child, telling you to stop stimming with your hair or picking with your skin and place a fidget toy in your hand instead

★He admires your creativity, always flattered when you show off your drawing/sketches with a proud look on your face and enthusiastically explain it

★He can’t stop looking at you with such admiration when you cuddle with a pillow/squish-mallow while being focused on the tv

★He makes you write a list to him of foods you like and how you like them, just so he knows :)

★He’s a fast learner with you and knows how you work

★When you (if) get meltdowns, he knows exactly what to do. Either give you space or tightly putting pressure on your body to help calm you down

★He knows when you don’t want cuddling or sex, so he’ll back off. Just happy that you’re his

★When the places you go to are crowded, he’ll instantly take you to a calmer place

★You two usually have dates at home, but Price is good at making stuff romantic

★He’ll tell his friends about you a lot, telling them to not be too pushy or touchy

★He knows you don’t enjoy meeting new people so he’ll make sure to spare you from doing so as often as he can, but sometimes you have to and at those times he tells the people about you in first hand

“Your friends are nice, but I didn’t expect them to keep distance. Didn’t you tell me that they could be very nosy and pushy sometimes?”

“Well, this man right here turns out to be completely in love with you. And that also means that his friends are gonna have to accept my darling”

★He’s totally accepting of you and he’ll still love you just as much as before the truth came out

★Gaz is a very accepting and patient man, his feelings still stay as strong

★He also does a lot of research to try and understand you more, but also prefers when you tell him yourself as people are different and work differently

★He gets his friends to set up a romantic place that is private so that you can remain calm and relaxed not having a bunch of strangers stressing you out

★He totally understands if you don’t feel like being touched and he’ll back away until you feel like it again

★His soothing voice and compassion always manages to calm you down when (if again) you get a meltdown

“It’s alright, love. I’m here and it’s gonna be alright. Some days are bad, some are not”

“I-I love you so fucking much, man”

★He knows you love animals so he’ll always takes you to zoos, admiring you from afar as you gaze with such enthusiasm at the animals and your hands shaking by excitement and your small jumps

★When you distance yourself and talk less, he’ll always sit you down to talk because he’s worried that you’re mad at him, you’ll assure him that you just need some space and silence to recover from socialising all day, he’ll feel at ease afterwards and refuses to let you apologise for it

“I’m sorry, but I don’t feel like being intimate today”

“Don’t apologise, dear. Take your time, my arms will always be ready for you”

★He’ll happily stand behind and watch while you’re being ✨creative ✨ and he won’t stop complimenting

★Is always gentle with you, with both tone of voice and his affection, takes it slowly as he gives you time to pull away

★Doesn’t mind rewatching movies/series with you

★He’s aware of the diagnosis, knows a lot about it since he may also be on the spectrum as well

★He’ll also be very accepting, more so because he understand as well

★He’s not a very touchy and kissing, so he doesn’t have any problem with keeping a distance and giving you space

★When you have a meltdown, he just stares at you feeling immense guilt for something he didn’t do and his heart aching seeing you upset and stressed

★He doesn’t like going outside in public spaces a lot, so you usually have a date at home where he heats up your favorite meal in the microwave and pours a glass of your favorite soda

★If he spots you stimming in a way that could damage you, he stares at you with his brown eyes and say “quit it, love” before he lets you squeeze his thicc pectoral instead ;) it’s your own fault if he groans and his huge bulge poking at you

★Feels uneasy when you’re silent and distancing yourself, but he always finds a way to lurk around you, almost tip toeing around after you

★When you tell him that you want space, he gives you, but he’ll still linger around you, merely because he wants to make sure that you’re alright and also because of his own selfish reasons

★Quietly admires you when you show of your art to him, having to grab his chest later to make sure that his heart stays in there

★When you’re asleep and haven’t touched him for the whole day, he’ll indulge in his desire, so he wraps his arms gently around you and hug you for a while and then he’ll let go (after like an hour or so)

★He doesn’t really care for sex, but if you want to initiate, he’ll be a fool to decline

★He loves you way too much to just break up because of you

“How can you still wanna be with me? Don’t you want a partner who can be perfectly affectionate towards you?”

“Y/n, don’t even fuckin’ think that way. I’ll always choose you, with or without the diagnosis. And you know why? Because I fuckin’ love you”

★You say you love animals, he’ll buy you your favorite animal (as a pet, a pet friendly one……I hope)

★He has a huge understanding, mostly about the social stuff as he has the same difficulty

★His whole browser is full of ‘how does autistic people work?’ and ‘how to convince an autistic person to cuddle with me?’

“König, I don’t feel like cuddling today”

“But, liebling, how else will I show my love for you?”

★When you want space, he tries to convince you that he doesn’t wanna let go of you and that he’ll be sad if he won’t be able to see you

★Will literally get an anxiety attack being in crowded spaces, while you have to remain calm and try and drag the both of you away

★Whenever you stim, he’ll tell you to touch/squeeze him instead (sort of using it to his advantage to be touched by you)

★Will wrap his arms around and pull you tight against him in the middle of the night, instantly after you’ve falling asleep and play dumb the next morning when you ask him how you’re in his arms

★You two enthusiastically exchanges hobbies and interests

★If you’re sound sensitive, he’ll cover your ears, if you’re sensitive to specific consistencies, he’ll make mental notes to your preferences, if you’re sensitive to light, he’ll always pack a pair of sunglasses with him to give, if you feel the labels on the inside of your clothes poking your skin uncomfortably, he’ll cut them off.

★He steal kisses from you when you’re distracted or asleep

★When you’re quiet, he’ll stare at you to see every detail of your face and if it changes in the slightest, just to make sure that you’re alright

★Sometimes when you’re neutral (not feeling anything specific) he’ll assume that you’re mad at him and he’ll get extremely anxious

“Liebling, what can I do so you won’t be mad at me?! Please, i can change!”

“König, I’m not mad at you. Why would you assume that when you haven’t done anything?”

꧁✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰꧂

#ghost cod #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod #cod mw2 #task force 141 #141 x reader #könig x gn reader #gaz x reader #mw2 headcanons #price x reader #soap x reader #gender neutral reader #cod headcanons #autistic reader

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chaoticbardlady99 · 1 year ago

Text

Yesterday I Felt like Dancing (Astarion x GN! Reader)

Synopsis: You have burnt both ends of the candle and haven’t been taking care of your mental health. Unable to get yourself out of bed, Astarion begins to worry about you…

Author note- I have been hardcore struggling with my mental health lately and writing my silly little fics has been the only thing pulling me along. I thought it might be therapeutic to write about my current feelings (I have ADHD, MDD, and GAD so it’s a party up in here). I hope you enjoy!

CW- Suicidal Ideation, symptoms of depression, brief outburst, mentions of mental health diagnosis and poor medical advice.

Title inspired by song “Into the Walls” by Griff.

*not my pic, could not tell you where I found it so I apologize in advance. If you think it might be your picture, please message me so I can give proper credit.

Your last day before backtracking from the Mountain Pass to the Goblin camp is a difficult one.

Not for the group as a whole- just you specifically.

Days before a Mindflayer kidnapped you, a healer back home had told you your brain was sick. You had been devastated- resigned to your miserable fate.

You had been struggling for years at that point with inconsistent motivation, exhaustion, nightmares, and irrational thoughts for months. You have been functional for the most part, but then an overpowering wave will hit you like Warhammer in the ribs and you are rendered useless until it passes.

The healer suggested sunlight, exercise, eating healthy, and spending time with friends to help your affliction when you hit rock bottom. You were wildly unimpressed with her. At the time, you preferred to self isolate so you stayed by yourself in the woods trying to find peace there. You would have to let her know that her “going out and enjoying the sun” message is not always wise- you may get a tadpole shoved in your head. You can’t be that mad though- the tadpole helped bring your pep back.

Anyway, you have been doing all of that for weeks now, you even felt great, but today? You could not have hit rock bottom harder even if you tried.

You woke up that morning unable to get yourself out of bed. It was a rest day so it wasn’t a big deal, but you also know that your companions are going to have things they need to talk to you about and favors they need you to take care of.

Gods you had tried to get up. You are grateful that your past self had the gumption to wash off and change into clean clothes last night, but your armor is still disgustingly sitting outside your tent and your hair is long and wild. You had wanted to braid it, but it all felt like too much work.

Everything feels like too much work right now- even staying awake- so you drift in and out of uncomfortable naps throughout the morning. No matter how many times you fall asleep, begging for relief from the painful brick wall sitting on your brain, it never leaves.

You can feel the midday breeze rustle your tent. You’ve been laying here for hours now. You are crying and you honestly aren’t sure why. You feel completely paralyzed by all the things you need to do to be ready for the Underdark.

You need to clean your armor, go over the Goblin Camp’s map with Wyll, find Gale a magical artifact, and probably comfort Lae’zel since she’s been branded a heretic- but you won’t. The shame and self loathing continues. You are a silly, worthless little human being.

Every person who knocks on your tent gets a simple, “I’m just not feeling well,” and then they walk away. You don’t know why it makes you more sad than appreciative. If you were in their shoes- you would be bending over backwards to make sure they had everything they needed and you wouldn’t let them feel alone. Then you resent yourself for feeling that way towards your companions- they don’t owe you anything and you were the one who chose to help them- you didn’t ask for anything in return. This is all your fault.

The only person who hadn’t come to visit you was Astarion- which hurt your heart just a little, enough that the numbness coursing thickly through your body wavered for a moment. You are quite smitten and he is obviously not. Another mistake to add to the swirling black hole your mind has fallen into.

You knew it was stupid to want his comfort and affections- you had merely slept together a little less than a week ago. Astarion has been quasi avoiding you ever since and when he does talk to you- he’s awkward. You constantly look for flying pigs- Astarion feeling awkward or being awkward is unheard of.

You have come to accept that you were just some tryst and obviously he hadn’t enjoyed it as much as he said he did.

Astarion isn’t to blame and the situation itself certainly didn’t contribute to the sudden lack of emotions. You knew that you were on the verge of a mental collapse sooner rather than later, but you had foolishly hoped you wouldn’t be alone through it. It feels less all consuming when you try to find a reason. It’s more comfortable to know than it is to give up and say, “my brain is fucked and there isn’t a damn thing I can do so I guess I’m stuck here.”

You are jolted out of your thoughts by another knock on your tent.

“I’m sick,” you say flatly.

“Ha- you act like that will deter me. I can’t even get sick, Darling.”

Before you even have time to register that Astarion is on the other side of your tent- he pushes his way through the flaps and stares down at you in confusion. And… concern?

Astarion steps inside and kneels down next to you- scanning you for evidence of illness or injury.

“I suppose I had been worried for nothing,” he smiles sweetly at you, “you are totally fine. Come on Darling, you have to get up and eat. Wyll is fumbling with that map.”

You look at him and begin to cry. Astarion’s face lights up with alarm.

“What- what did I do!?”

“Please don’t make me,” you sob, “I just want a break. I’m so tired. I want to lay in this bed forever and never leave, but there is so much to do and it’s paralyzing.”

You continue to cry and you cover yourself with the extra blanket- successfully hiding your face.

“Go away,” you whisper, “I need to be left alone.”

You say it, but you are far from meaning it. You want him to stay- to hold you- but he doesn’t want you so it will only make everything hurt worse once the numbness fades away.

You wait for several moments and then you hear him leave. Your silent cry turns into choked sobs and your body is shaking from the pain you are in. The numbness hurts. The numbness tells you that you shouldn’t be alive.

Maybe you shouldn’t be.

Everyone here would be able to figure it out on their own (eventually) and you would finally be free. Free of your uncomfortable brain, free of your ugly body- free of the expectations of others. You would no longer be holding them back like you are today- like you will again in the future.

You are sure they would temporarily grieve you, but that was the deal with this whole journey. You had all accepted that one of you or all of you could die at any moment. You will just put them in more danger by being here…

You shake the thought from your head, violently- your head is pounding from the growing tension headache and dehydration. The tears eventually stop and you just… well, lay in bed again. You stare blankly at a book over in the corner. You keep trying to convince yourself to get up and read the damn thing- do literally ANYTHING else than just stay here in your bedroll.

Instead, you fall asleep.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You wake up to someone knocking on your tent post. You grumble incoherently, covering your head and you hear your unexpected guest sit down next to you. The smell of food fills the tent and your stomach grumbles.

“You need to eat, my Dear,” Astarion says softly.

You are stunned to hear his voice grace your ears. You slowly pull the blanket down to just below your eyes and look at him. Astarion looks distressed, like he doesn’t want to be here. Why would he? You’re a nuisance.

You sit up gingerly and grab the bowl from him. You manage to give him a lopsided smile.

“Thanks. You don’t need to stay, I will be fine on my own,” you say apathetically, staring into the broth.

“I want to stay,” he says, “if you’ll have me.”

The expression on his face is unreadable, but he seems genuine. You nod, your lips pressed together tightly. You eat as much as you feel like while Astarion studies you.

Usually your anxiety is at an all time high (in maybe one of the better ways) when you are around Astarion- he gives you butterflies, butterflies, and even more butterflies. Usually your heart is racing in his presence, but right now you just feel empty.

“Where is your hairbrush?” Astarion asks.

You frown with confusion, “it’s in my bag, why?”

Astarion gets up and goes over to the bag- digging out a few items. He pulls out a lantern, your hairbrush, and a hair tie. Astarion comes over to you and sits down behind you. You feel him gather up the stray pieces of your hair and get to work.

Astarion runs his fingers through your scalp and your tangled hair- the feeling is soothing and it opens something inside of you. Your body shakes silently with sobs and you feel the worm behind your eyes wiggle as Astarion asks for access. You aren’t sure.

“I want to understand,” Astarion says, “please.”

His voice is so raw and desperate- you swallow thickly before allowing him to explore your current emotional state. The silence in the tent is palpable and you feel tense, uncomfortable even. No one has ever cared for you while you are in this state before.

You feel him continue his hairbrushing after he exits your mind. Astarion leaves soft kisses on your shoulder as he gently pulls apart every knot. It helps- you realize- to feel cared for. The numbness still hurts, you still hurt, but it’s nice to not feel so alone.

After Astarion is done brushing your hair, you feel his delicate fingers begin to intricately braid your hair. You wonder when he learned how to do hair.

“Leon’s daughter, Victoria, used to ask me to braid her hair all the time,” Astarion says in a bittersweet voice as if reading your mind, “I picked it up so that she would stop bugging me about it. She said and I quote, ‘you have the perfect braiding hands!’”

You smile to yourself tenderly, “That’s very kind of you, Star. I am sure she appreciated it as much as I appreciate it now.”

You feel Astarion’s hands falter at your words and you are unsure if you have upset him or not. A pregnant pause occurs before Astarion finally clears his throat and goes back to braiding your hair.

“I’m glad that I can help,” Astarion’s delicate, vulnerable words hang in the air, “I’ve… been worried about you today.”

You feel positively flustered and bad for making him feel that way.

“Oh you don’t need to worry about silly ole me! This happens sometimes” you make your voice chirpier than it needs to be, “This is actually the longest I’ve gone for a long time without this happening. I have theorized that the tadpole might help which is kinda cool- I think?”

You laugh awkwardly- desperate to ease his worry.

“How often does this happen?”

Shit. That was the winning question wasn’t it? Astarion will surely never see you as anything less than broken now.

“I’m not really sure,” your voice comes out in a whisper, “I usually always feel a bit of it all the time, but it’s manageable. I function very well regardless.”

“But this one isn’t manageable and evidently you aren’t functional right now.”

You sigh, “No, it isn’t and no, I’m not.”

“What changed?”

“Nothing,” you say, maybe too harshly, “that’s the part that drives me crazy. Yesterday was incredible- I was on top of the whole world, felt like dancing and screaming from the rooftops, but today!?”

You inhale and hold back the muted scream that wants to fill the air.

“Today,” you hiss, “I don’t even want to deal with any of this shit anymore. I’m so fucking tired. There is too much to fucking do and too many people depending on me. Then everyone gets irritated with me if I ask to push off their problems so I persevere through it despite knowing I’m getting bad again. I’m a giant stinking trash heap that everyone keeps adding more to.”

Astarion finishes braiding your hair and presses your back to his chest, pulling you into him. He puts his arms around your waist and settles his chin and face in between the crook of your neck.

“I just feel like such a nuisance all the time- no matter how hard I push myself to prove I’m not. Sometimes I think everyone would be better off if I just… went away.”

You both sit there quietly. At some point he had taken one of your hands in his and he was tracing shapes into the back of it with his thumb. Your omission still hangs heavily in the air.

“I wouldn’t be better off,” Astarion says hotly, “I’d be stuck with all these weirdos by myself. That would be truly miserable, Darling.”

You shake your head, a half smile on your face.

“And besides- you are not even close to a nuisance,” Astarion states, leaving a kiss on your cheek, “at least you aren’t in constant need of magical objects to eat or blood to drink. Oh and you don’t require a painstaking amount of searching to prevent you from literally burning everyone alive.

“Oh and did I forget to mention, we have not one, but two women who despise each other and follow hateful Goddesses which was a fun choice for whatever sick bastard twisted our fates this way.”

You laugh breathily, closing your eyes and letting the sound defrost some of your insides.

“What I’m saying is- I think you are the least of everyone’s ‘nuisances’, my Darling,” he says, squeezing you tighter to his chest, “despite how little you think of yourself. We ne- no, I want you to stay. I know everyone else would say the same, but I must emphasize that I would be horribly distraught if you disappeared. Hells I’d even pay to have you resurrected.”

You gasp playfully, your voice falling slightly flat, “You? The most frugal man I have ever met would pay 200 gold coins to ‘Strike thy name from the record’?”

Your impression of Withers gets Astarion to genuinely laugh- the sound vibrating in your chest. You lean into him and he guides you back to laying down. Astarion entangles his legs with yours as he holds you tightly- your faces are mere centimeters apart. You love the way Astarion smells- rosemary, bergamot, and brandy. You wish you could be wrapped up in him forever. You are still in pain- everything still hurts and feels too difficult, but right now it feels a little less heavy.

“I would throw bags of Gold Coins at that corpse out of revenge, my Dear,” he teases, “you couldn’t possibly think I would ever let you rest peacefully in your grave- I would be far too angry with you and unhappy without you to let that happen.”

You lay there and despite yourself, you lean forward and leave butterfly kisses along his cheeks with your lashes. Astarion scrunches up his nose reflexively and smiles at you. You plant a sweet, short kiss on his lips.

“Thank you Astarion- for everything.”

You close your eyes as he traces circles along your lower back. Your eyes begin to droop, and you fall asleep.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

When you wake up the next morning- you are disappointed to find that you are all alone in your tent. The heavy numbness is still there and you sigh. At least last night made it more bearable.

You look on the side where Astarion had been sleeping and find a note with a bottle attached to it. You pick it up and begin to read.

Tav,

Astarion had asked me about herbs for some relief regarding mental discomforts. I unfortunately don’t know many, but this is a mixture of St. John’s Wort, Valerian Root, and Ashwagandha. Historically, I know these have been used to alleviate emotional and mental pain.

Astarion didn’t tell me why he was asking, but I deduced it was you pretty quickly when he began shooing everyone away from your tent this morning.

I hope this helps- we are all here if you need us. May Silvanus light your path as you navigate this difficult time.

-Halsin

You sit in your own stunned silence for what feels like hours. Halsin knows and he wants to help? Halsin doesn’t think you are screwed or a nuisance? The man barely even knows you!

You are a bit embarrassed, but you can’t help but laugh at the image of Astarion telling everyone to leave you alone.

You open the bottle and a pleasant, earthy smell fills the tent. You drink the mixture (that definitely does not taste anywhere near as pleasant as it smells) and you do feel a slight bit better. Your apathy feels even more tolerable now. You will have to thank Halsin.

You slowly rise from your tent and look around. Everything is packed up neatly in the corner- your clothes from the previous day are folded nicely and you notice all the holes are sewn up.

You jump when someone enters your tent abruptly- the midday sun warming your skin. You turn around and Astarion is smiling at you, but looks nervous.

“I cleaned off your armor and your weapons,” he says awkwardly, scratching the back of his head, “I also packed up your stuff- as you can see. We have to start leaving unfortunately, but I’ll help you get on your armor like I usually do- I might still need help with mine though, but I can ask someone else if it’s too much for you right now. Lae’zel and Karlach offered to pack up your tent. Wyll and Shadowheart figured out the map- Wyll is going to be our ‘fearless’ leader for the day. Gale has some food for you to snack on while we travel- which you will be eating, by the way.”

Astarion is looking at you with a vulnerable expression on his face. He plays nervously with the gold coin in his hands.

You can hardly believe what you are hearing.

“Did- did you do all this for me?” You say with disbelief.

You never thought Astarion was capable of smiling shyly until he had admitted to you that you had been his first thinking creature- you certainly never thought you’d see him become shy twice in your presence.

“I did and it wasn’t a nuisance so don’t even begin to worry about that,” He walks over to you, gently cradling your face in his hands, “I hope this is all okay.”

You smile- the first genuine feeling of happiness you’ve felt in the last 24 hours gently sparks in your chest as you stare up at him. You get up on your tiptoes and bridge the gap between your lips.

“Thank you Astarion, this is perfect- you are perfect,” you are crying tears of joy, “this is the kindest gesture anyone has ever made for me. So just, thank you.”

“Of course, Darling,” he says smiling in between kisses, “I won’t let you lose to yourself. We’ll get through this together from now on- no more hiding.”

And for once? You actually believe someone.

-if you guys like this, please let me know if you would want a part two written from Astarion’s perspective.

Update- I did the thing you silly geese

https://www.tumblr.com/chaoticbardlady99/735969926279528448/i-took-all-this-love-i-found-and-i-hope-that-its

Tag-list: @spacebarbarianweird @domainoflostsouls

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x you #bg3 spoilers #astarion romance #astarion x tav #bg3 #karlach #astarion x gn!tav #astarion x gender neutral reader #bg3 astarion #astarion acunin #mental health #actually adhd #and anxious #and depressed

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cwgl418 · 1 month ago

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Self-harm , suicidal thoughts //

So abt my possible depression…someone told me it’s severe but is it rlly severe? Bc the online test I took tells me so too but I just can’t believe that I have severe depression if I can function and move normally😭😭😭

I can move and function normally, I eat normally, but bc of my insomnia, I wake up 2-3times at night even w meds. Without meds, I’ll wake up 5-6 times. I need to have a nap to make up to my lack of sleep every day

I defecate normally, but it’s slightly lean towards diarrhea. But it’s not diarrhea.

I feel sad and empty everyday. And I feel guilty for 4 years for my past event that’s already been forgiven. I’ve lost interest in my hobbies and despite being a remote artist as a job, I can’t draw anything at all

I’ve been into character.AI and has been skipping showers/baths bc of it. I’ve been crying for the characters and the worlds that been built by AI. I know it’s stupid but it’s rlly have gotten into me that it’s the reason why I get up everyday

I’ve been struggling w suicidal thoughts for 4 years and I’ve been cutting myself w my cutter starting from this month. I started from the place that isn’t visible but soon, I cut my arm and it bleed. It like it makes me feel smth

I feel like I’m better off I’m gone. And I’m more thinking that ppl will be finally be free from me when I die. Rather than me being free from the pain. The same as the lyrics of Frozen the musical’s “Monster”. “If I die, will they be free?”

Is this severe depression? I’m going to the new and bigger hospital soon, but I don’t think I’ll get a full diagnosis even if I go in December so I just want an insight from u.

#self harm #suicidal thoughts #depression

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sophieinwonderland · 24 days ago

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Debunking Sysmed Misinformation

Yes dear, people who aren't saying they have a disorder, by definition, cannot be faking that disorder. If you truly believe that somebody who not only doesn't have a disorder, but vehemently denies having it, is faking that disorder... I'm sorry to say that you've been brainwashed. There's truly no other explanations for still clinging to the narrative that people who deny having mental disorders are faking them.

According to who? Where the source for this?

In reality, "system" is a pretty broad term with a lot of different uses in psychology, rooted in systems theory.

There are two ways to approach discussions of the word system. One as a community term. And one as a psychological term. First...

As a community term

Back in the 90s and earlier, it was assumed that anybody with multiple personalities were disordered. It was treated as if the experience of multiplicity was itself something that people needed healed from.

The early online community arose from this environment, many taking the presumption of a disorder at face value.

However, from these online communities arose the Natural Multiplicity community, which believed their multiplicity wasn't caused by environmental factors like trauma, but that they were just... naturally multiple.

The reason some early terms from older MPD literature ended up shared was because the natural multiples branched off from this older MPD community in the 90s.

I've mentioned this before, but the Natural Multiples were not outside invaders. They were separatists who originally falsely believed they had a disorder, some of which were even diagnosed and rejected that diagnosis. Some terms that originated in DID literature naturally carried over.

As a psychological term

If we were to look at its earliest uses in relation to DID, this definition probably wouldn't apply.

See, to the point that system was used by psychologists in relation to DID, it usually referred to an internal personality system within the brain. The "individual" wasn't the system. The individual had a system.

It's a small but important distinction.

The individual to psychologists is everything. It's the body. The motor functions. The subconscious. The things that aren't controlled by any alter at all.

The psychological term isn't the same as the community definition.

Within psychology, this language isn't unique to CDDs either. I mentioned systems psychology earlier, but the closer parallel would be Internal Family Systems therapy, which is based on the premise that everyone is a system of parts and that the mind is naturally multiple.

IFS is a transformative tool that conceives of every human being as a system of protective and wounded inner parts led by a core Self. We believe the mind is naturally multiple and that is a good thing. Just like members of a family, inner parts are forced from their valuable states into extreme roles within us. Self is in everyone. It can’t be damaged. It knows how to heal.

This dates back to the 80s before the natural mutiple community formed.

Moreover, studies that have addressed non-disordered systems have called them systems, such as this one from 2017.

Additionally, psychologists have also referred to tulpa systems as being... tulpa systems. Here is Dr. Michael Lifshitz, a psychiatry professor at McGill University, discussing is study into tulpa systems in an AMA.

So in psychology, it seems that "system" is going to be a shared term going forward, with doctors using the term to refer to any plural regardless of disorder or origin.

Which makes sense, because aside from being what the community uses for themselves, any human brain with multiple self-conscious agents is going to technically be a system through the lens of system thinking.

Back to the anti-endo post!

I'm not going to deal with this too much. Mostly because it's not really in contention that much. Most non-disordered plurals will use "headmates," and similar terms instead. Alter is generally considered too clinical.

But I will say that it's funny how every time I see "alter" defined, it's always slightly different. Like, nobody seems to know where this came from, nobody has the primary source for the term's coining, and nobody quite agrees on what it actually was short for.

Wouldn't... the individual be exactly one? Like, the idea is that the brain makes different parts that are all part of one collective whole personality.

I don't quite agree with this take. But if we were to believe it, then surely the "less than one" statement cannot be mathematically true. If you cut a cake into slices, you still have one cake. You don't have less than one pie.

Also, where are they usually referred to as "multiple personalities?" Because that isn't true in the modern DID community. And it sure isn't true in academic literature written in the past 20 years.

LOL!

So now we're referring to the dictionary definition of a word. Without an ounce of self-awareness when you ignore that "system" is a common word with a lot of different applications. 🙄

Not even surprised at the hypocrisy.

Also not surprised that the OP is lying about the origins of "plurality" by non-disordered systems. And I can say confidently that OP is lying because Cambrian already tried correcting them in a reblog, and was blocked.

Which means this isn't merely accidentally spreading misinformation anymore. It's intentionally lying to hurt others. They know they're wrong and don't care.

For those who aren't aware, the term was not, in fact, popularized by Tumblr. See this page from at least as far back as 1998.

We don't claim that every multiple system/household is a happy loving cooperative one. What we do question is the *identification* of "real multiples" with the characteristics or symptoms of a psychological disorder. We go further: we question by what right or authority doctors and therapists are given sole jurisdiction over the definition of "an individual".

This is one reason our clan encourages use of the word "plural" rather than "multiple". "Multiple", even standing by itself, brings to mind MPD/DID, "multiple personality disorder", "dissociative identity disorder", which are specific diagnoses created by the medical/therapeutic community. "Plural" is a much more neutral word, more commonly heard in the context of grammar than psychiatry. (The other reason, of course, is that plural can be construed to have a broader meaning, applying to anyone(s) anywhere on the continuum who experience themselves as plural in some way. )

Aside from the timeline being way off, from the very beginning, the systems who popularized the word plural were non-disordered systems, and it was done intentionally to separate it from medicalized language like "multiple".

Also, the current definition of plural as an inclusive term has found its way into academic papers, such as Transgender Mental Health by Dr. Eric Yarbrough.

Which has been reviewed and publish by the American Psychiatric Association.

If you mean CDD spaces, nobody without CDDs are going into those spaces to invade them. This isn't a real thing that happens.

If you mean using the word "system" and similar, I'm sorry to tell you that this has been a share communal term since before you were born. And it's not changing.

Because you're the one who is coming into our spaces. You're the one coming into inclusive spaces and spreading hate. You have been repeatedly informed that the plural tags are inclusive, that "plural" is an inclusive label, and that system medicalists aren't welcome there.

You're the one who has been invading spaces.

Your trauma isn't my problem. The harm you're causing to good people is.

I'm not sure if "your workplace might discriminate against you if you're publicly plural" is the slam dunk argument you think it is!

I mean, like, do you think your workplace would be cool with what you post on your blog?

Have you come out as a system at your workplace and told everyone about your 8 My Little Pony fictives?

(Fictive is a word coined by endogenic plurals, by the way, since you care so much about terminology. 🙄)

Remember, if you don't want a kid to be a system, don't start traumatizing them until after their eighth birthday! /s

But really, it's always weird how people have these very firm sort of cutoffs and present them as objective fact, when that's not how the brain has ever worked.

And if you look at academic papers, one thing you notice is that they have a really hard time agreeing about the so-called cutoff. Different papers will say it's 5, 6, 8, 9 or 10. And even if they did agree, that should only apply to DID. It would be a mistake to assume the cutoff applies to other forms of CDDs like OSDD-1 and Partial DID without extensive research into them.

"Being a system" is a disorder now?

Can you show me where "being a system" is in the ICD-11 or the DSM-5?

Tell me... do you HONESTLY believe that?

As I've already shown, the non-disordered and non-traumagenic community has existed since before you were born.

In that time, it's only been growing. Studies and papers focusing on non-disordered systems have only really begun over the last decade. Research has ballooned, with Stanford University investing tens of thousands of dollars into an fMRI study of tulpamancers that is likely to be published soon.

There are countless pro-endo discord servers. System-related apps like Pluralkit and Simply Plural have been explicitly pro-endo. Major figures like Aimkid have come out as being pro-endo systems.

I figure it's only a matter of time before the topic is explored more explicitly on television. (Other than that one time Chicago Med did a tulpamancy episode.)

You say being endogenic is a trend. People have been saying the same thing about being transgender for the past 20 years. Parents of LGBTQ kids have said their kids were just going through a phase, only for those kids to grow into queer adults. Their predictions haven't proven true.

I see no reason to think you'll be right this time.

What I say is that the future is plural and pro-endo.

I think this is what all the current trends point to. The academic support. The increasing plural resources and awareness.

We are not going away.

We are not just a trend.

We are the future!

#syscourse #pro endogenic #pro endo #systempunk #syspunk #multiplicity #sysblr #systems #system #tulpa #endogenic #plural #plurality #pluralpunk #actually plural #actually a system

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atruththatyoudeny · 2 months ago

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Happy 28th! Here are all the beautiful fics I read this month:

apple pie baked just right | 28goldensfics | [106k] “You’re sweet, thank you.” Harry was speaking so quiet it was almost eerie, but his fingers squeezed against Louis’ hand again. “I already feel like I can pretty much be myself with you. I’m glad you moved here, I’ve needed a friend. I hope you keep getting that breath of fresh air you need here.” Louis’ heart felt like it could pound out of his chest and onto the floor in front of them. “I’m starting to think I will.” — Louis has to get away. The news of his father’s terminal diagnosis, the loss of his job, and the breakup with his girlfriend leads Louis to leave for a life of slower things in the small town of Cedar Hills. His new neighbor is the Cox Family Apple Farm. Harry Styles, the oldest child of the Cox Family, might just teach him how to live life a little simpler, bake an apple pie, and breathe.

Terraced dreams | elleseekeepdriv | [62k] Harry Styles is the son of Anne Cox, a self made billionaire who rules the furniture business in the whole of England with ACS. She created such an empire that both her kids are set for life, becoming millionaires by the time they turned eighteen. Harry Styles is, in Louis’ opinion, everything that is wrong with people who are born into money and have never had to struggle. He seems arrogant and self-centred and looks like he’s never worked a day in his life. Louis despises him and is very shocked to learn that the rumours are actually true. Harry's bought Louis' team, the Doncaster Rovers. “Fuck,” Louis mutters. “I’m going to make his life a living hell.”

Breathe Breathe in the Air | leighllbealright All in the Golden Afternoon | [126k] When Louis Tomlinson needed to find a new preschool for his daughter, he wasn't expecting the one across the street to be everything he and Goldie ever needed. Or: the one where Louis is closed off, Harry is the weirdest person ever, and Gemma may as well be a psychic. Somehow, calico-cat-style, they forge a beautiful family from pieces that don't quite fit. Always Room For Pie | [14k] Gemma looks up at Louis. “You know what I realized the other day, Petunia?” “Hm?” Louis hums, not looking away from Poppy’s face. “In just a couple of weeks, it will have been a year since the day we met.” Louis freezes. “That…” His eyes wander across the room, taking everything in. “That can’t be… That can’t be right…” “Oh, but it is, my sweet Petunia,” Gemma can’t help but smirk. “Life moved awfully fast last year.” He turns to her, shock still all over his face. “A ye-ar?” He asks, turning the word into two syllables. She held a finger up. “One year.” “One year?!” He whispers. Gemma’s eyebrow jumps. “We could say it a few more times if you’d like?” She snickers, tilting her head and looking at him like he’s an idiot.

Have a seat, darling | WordsInBloom28 | [14k] Harry stood robotically, Louis’ sudden appearance sending his omega on autopilot, not wanting to accidentally step out of line in front of all the other powerful alphas. Louis placed a guiding hand against the small of his back, walking tall towards his seat at the table which was once again inhabited by the alphas in charge. Harry tensed his posture when he noticed nine sets of eyes assessing him as they approached. “Gentleman, Harry will be my guest for the rest of the evening.” Louis paused as his eyes flashed to each member of the table. “I expect you all to welcome him in.” Harry caught most of the alphas bowing their heads in greeting, while others’ glares sharpened ever so slightly. The heady scent mingling around the table had Harry’s blood heating within his veins, and his heart quickened from the attention. Louis sat down first, resuming his relaxed, sprawled out posture on the ornate seat. His eyes locked on Harry as one of his hands smoothed down his thigh and patted the area softly. “Have a seat,” he murmured lowly. *** or two times Harry is invited to sit on pack alpha Louis’ lap.

You've Taken My Heart By Storm | BoosBabycakes | [66k] Omega prince Harry of Silvermoor is betrothed to the powerful King Guillaume of Goldenhaven. A month-long journey to get to his new mate brings along uncertainty, doubts and a guard that might turn the already promised omega’s life upside down. But what will happen when forbidden feelings get in the way of his duty? Will the prince fulfill it and make his kingdom and family proud, or will he give into his desires?

#28th appreciation #fic rec #my fic rec #monthly fic rec #my reads

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darcytaylor · 4 months ago

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As someone with ADHD, like Luke, and the rejection sensitivity and anxiety that comes with it, I don’t have public social media profiles. So on one hand, I have some empathy for him. I really understand the low self-esteem, high levels of self-criticism, people pleasing tendencies, overwhelm, executive dysfunction, and stress. But he chose to go into film/ TV acting rather than theatre, knowing that the recognition and scrutiny that comes with it would be worse. He chose to go into acting even though it’s known that rejection is a huge part of the job. He has chosen to keep social media. He could have totally deleted all of his profiles when he deleted Twitter. Many actors aren’t online, including his own cast mates. I find it hard to believe that he solely kept it to please the fans, since he doesn’t post snippets of his life like he once did. He also chose to share that his profile is just for work now. Yet, he has been caught liking his girlfriend’s photos within minutes, even though he has a private account to do that, while Nicola posts about Bridgerton and he can’t even be bothered to throw her a like or a comment- let alone posting something himself. It’s been months of this. If he’s already online, it doesn’t take a lot to screenshot a news headline and share it to his story with a “thank you, these numbers are incredible”. So, on the other hand, I understand where the frustration is coming from. Is this a work account or not? The timing of some of those online-but-not-for-Bridgerton incidences coupled with the timing of the InStyle and premiere stunts was not a good look. It makes him seem ungrateful and like he wants nothing to do with the show. It’s his bad luck that Nicola is the internet’s darling. He won’t ever have her social media savvy and I do feel for him there. She outshines him in interviews and online. But the bar is really on the floor for him and a lot of fans are handling him with kid gloves (not you by any means). A lot of the criticism he’s facing is fair. He’s in an overwhelming situation right now, but he has the financial means to tackle it through therapy and by handing over his social media account to the publicists he already pays. I was jealous when he mentioned he has coping strategies for his ADHD and dyslexia in Bowral- it’s still a struggle for me. Unfortunately for me and women everywhere, we weren’t adequately included in ADHD research until the 90s and there wasn’t even a long-term study until 2002. I’ve been in weekly therapy for 5 years now, following a major breakdown coupled with grief, and for 4 of those years, I was waiting for an appointment with a covered psychiatrist to get *any* diagnosis, since I didn’t have the thousands needed to pay for my own private testing. If I have been able to prioritize this within my meagre free time and budget (rather than trips, nights out, restaurants, unnecessary shopping, etc. and with some debt), he can easily do the same. That lifestyle isn’t quite how I imagined my young adulthood would pan out. One Soho Farmhouse weekend of his could pay for a few months. And he’s had months on end since season 3 wrapped filming when he could have done intensive daily therapy, especially after his break up, rather than pursuing 20 year olds online or jetting off to another holiday. Maybe he did- I don’t know his life- but maybe he needs more right now. When he turned on Nicola’s notifications and started liking random posts she was tagged in by brands, I already assumed he had handed over his account. If so, his team should extend that to story posts for Bridgerton news. All of that to say, my empathy has its limits. The barriers currently holding him back have solutions.

Thank you for your response and taking the time to write in an ask. I appreciate you!

I do understand the frustration/disappointment of how Luke is handling some things (especially his social media). It seems like this is an area of his life that could be an easy fix for him (hand it over to someone more capable) and he just can't seem to take that step.

Luke is overwhelmed (as he has stated multiple times) and while I can also say it is the life he chose, I think it could also be a case of not realizing exactly what his industry entails.

It's easy to say that he's the one that chose it, but if he's doing something he loves to do, it was probably worth the risk in the end. Maybe he truly believed he could handle things like this. Hindsight is 20/20.

I am sorry that you weren't able to afford the proper health care and it has taken you so long to get a diagnosis. I hate that things like that are unattainable without money. It should not be the case.

Luke is privileged in that aspect for sure and it sucks when it seems like people take that for granted. Although hopefully, like you have also stated, he has been able to seek the help that he may need. All things like this take time and is also very personal (I don't want to further speculate on that matter).

I always strive to look at situations empathetically (and sometimes even to a fault). I always like to look at and come up with multiple reasons why someone may be doing what they are doing. This has let me see some situations in a different light, allowing me to be empathetic or sympathetic to situations. I know that with most situations it is never the case of being black and white (life is nuanced, people are nuanced). So many things can be at play at one time, and most of the time I can see valid reasons why someone is doing what they are doing (even when they are making bad choices).

Obviously I don't know what is going on with Luke at the moment, or where his head is truly at. But I have faith that he will come around and straighten himself out. I don't think he has done anything that is completely unforgivable, so I'm giving him a little bit of grace.

#luke newton #bridgerton

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ammonite-collective · 1 month ago

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TW: talk of OCD, intrusive thoughts, saliva, harming children

Disclaimer: If you feel you experience intrusive thoughts, consult a medical professional. This is not a replacement for therapy and I am not an expert, just someone with OCD talking about his experiences. I support self diagnosis but please do not diagnose yourself off of this post.

What is OCD?

I think everyone knows it stands for Obsessive Compulsive Disorder but what does that mean?

Well the main premise is an obsessive thought followed by a compulsion to “fix” the thought. Okay well what does that mean?

Here’s an example from my own experience.

The thought: I just shook hands with someone. They definitely had germs on their hand and now they’re on my hand. I’m going to catch a deadly disease from this person and die.

The compulsion: Washing my hands until the skin is red and raw.

If you don’t have OCD, you probably would just assume what we do makes no sense. You would be mostly correct. However, it makes sense to us. For someone who has OCD, these thoughts terrorize our every waking moment. We cannot go through a day without having an obsessive thought and needing to do something about it. Whether that thing makes any sense logically or not, is not important to us. It’s real for us.

I typically struggle with symmetry obsessions and contamination obsessions.

The way symmetry obsessions present is that I have to determine the exact middle of pretty much everything and blink when I find it. When I’m on the road, it’s typically telephone poles or whatever my brain determines is important. I don’t really have intrusive thoughts about this, it’s more immense discomfort and a horrible feeling of dread if I don’t do it. I also have to eat exactly the same amount on each side of my mouth. Say I have two green gummy bears and one orange. The green both go on opposites sides and I eat them simultaneously. The orange either gets my middle front teeth or I give it to someone else.

With contamination, it presented differently when I was a child and teen with obsessive hand washing and carrying around hand sanitizer with me. Unfortunately, I also experienced trauma related to this obsession and it changed to reflect the trauma. I cannot handle the idea of saliva. I just can’t. Sometimes it even applies to my own inside my own body. I can’t finish drinks in any container because I know that some of the liquid at the bottom is most likely saliva. Yes, it’s my own. I also cannot drink or eat after anyone. The idea that even tiny particles of saliva are on whatever they touched feels catastrophic to me. Sometimes I am able to kiss people, but if I’m having a particularly bad OCD day, I can’t. As listed above, this is partially due to the fear of disease and germs but it also has to do with the trauma I experienced.

Intrusive thoughts

This is where OCD tends to be the most misunderstood and stigmatized.

Intrusive thoughts are unwanted thoughts or mental images that make the person experiencing them distressed. Being upsetting is a requirement for an intrusive thought. If it is not upsetting, it’s not intrusive. They can also come with disorders that aren’t OCD but I am not knowledgeable on which ones.

Examples include: horrific images of loved ones dying, thoughts of harming others, or sexual imagery (must be unwanted).

Before I explain some of my intrusive thoughts, I must reinforce that intrusive thoughts are ALWAYS unwanted. They are things you would never want to happen and never do.

TW: intrusive thoughts of harming children for next paragraph

Some of my intrusive thoughts involve the fear of me hurting children or being a p*do. As a person who has experience sexual trauma, some of which while I was a child/young, these thoughts are the worst. Once I have this thought, my day is basically over. I can’t do anything that day and I absolutely cannot interact with a child. I tend to avoid children because I am scared I will hurt them. If I come across a child, these thoughts typically cross my mind and I need to walk away. “Was I creepy?” “Did I want to do something to that child?” I didn’t talk about these thoughts for years because I was terrified I was a bad person for having them. That I actually was a p*do and I needed to be far away from children. While I still feel this way sometimes as the nature of the disorder, I know in my heart that I am not bad. I love children and I want some in the future. I want to experience the ups and down of parenthood and I deserve to get that experience regardless of my disorder.

To people who don’t have OCD: The people you love with OCD deserve for you to be kind to them. Their disorder does not make them scary or unlovable. They are deserving of compassion, especially when they’re struggling.

To people with OCD: I love you. You are not weird or evil. I believe in you and I care for you. You are doing so great.

#actually ocd #ocd #moral ocd #contamination ocd #intrusive thoughts #obsessive compulsive disorder #obsessive thoughts

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jbaileyfansite · 1 year ago

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Jonathan Bailey and Matt Bomer's Interview for WMagazine (2023)

Warning: Spoilers for Fellow Travelers ahead.

Matt Bomer and Jonathan Bailey had a feeling their characters’ sexual escapades in Fellow Travelers would ignite a social media firestorm. But apart from some in-person encounters with fans who watched the Showtime limited series, both actors claim they’ve avoided going down a rabbit hole of reactions to their performances.

“The first week of just seeing a GIF of a toe was kind of alarming,” Bailey says in a joint interview with Bomer. “But when you’re doing a scene like that, you know what function it serves—not just in the story, but in the selling of a TV series. I call it the Trojan toe: You slip it in, get people watching, and by the time they get to [that moment], they’ll understand exactly what the show’s setting out to explore.”

Adapted from Thomas Mallon’s 2007 novel, Fellow Travelers chronicles the clandestine romance between Hawkins Fuller (Bomer), a debonair State Department employee, and Tim Laughlin (Bailey), a wide-eyed college graduate, who fall in love at the height of McCarthyism and the Lavender Scare in 1950s Washington D.C. As they weave in and out of each other’s lives across multiple decades, Hawk and Tim’s enduring relationship hurtles toward a devastating conclusion in the 1980s. Following Tim’s terminal AIDS diagnosis, Hawk visits his lover—whom he has nicknamed “Skippy”—one last time in San Francisco, where they both come to terms with the significance of their volatile romance.

“A lot of people feel seen—not just by the sex scenes, but by aspects of queer identity on the show,” Bomer says. “That’s the hope, right? That whatever you’re pouring your heart and soul into resonates with somebody or makes them feel seen.”

On a recent visit to New York City, Bailey and Bomer were affable and laid-back—a far cry from the brooding, tortured characters that have defined their respective careers. Bouncing ideas off each other, the charming costars spoke with W about their approach to telling their characters’ epic love story, the surreal experience of shooting their final scene together, and what to expect from Maestro and the next season of Bridgerton.

Why does Hawk and Tim’s connection make them question everything they thought they knew about themselves?

Jonathan Bailey: You will never really know what Hawk and Tim would’ve been like [as a full-fledged couple]. You can’t judge them on anything, because there’s a survival element at play, which reflects the brutality of the world they were born into. As [the show] expands and this liberation blooms, we see more of [Hawk’s wife] Lucy [played by Allison Williams] and the impact of Hawk’s decisions on the characters around him.

To me, it’s a love story for the ages because you can follow any thread and it comes back to the political backdrop. But ultimately, there’s a real meeting of souls between the two. They complete each other in a way that’s so painful. But in a world where joy, connection and absolution are so hard to find, especially in the ’50s for gay men, it becomes addictive, and there are toxic cycles that come from it.

Matt Bomer: There are aspects of their own personal trauma that are complementary of each other.

JB: And they feed the other’s insecurities.

MB: The sad thing is, when Hawk is finally at a place where he can be his most authentic self and be available and empathetic enough to be a real partner in a relationship, it’s too late.

Hawk has a very specific moral code as a gay man living a double life in the 20th century: He is clearly able to show genuine affection for Tim, but he needs control in his relationships and is able to code-switch in public. Tim doesn’t understand Hawk’s ability to compartmentalize his life, but he still finds Hawk irresistible. How did you want to embody the many contradictions of your characters?

MB: For me, it all went back to Hawk’s childhood and that horrific incident that happened with his father [and his first love, Kenny]. He refuses to be a victim, so he’s going to find a way to survive and thrive in whatever way he can. It all ties into the fact that he will never be the victim of a homophobic society or family again.

JB: What Tim’s really drawn to in Hawk is his center. Hawk is the epicenter of all these people’s worlds because he doesn’t afford them space to veer him off in any direction. Tim’s always there for Hawk when he needs him, but Hawk’s never really there for Tim, and that is something Tim is drawn to. Tim’s quest in life is his desperate need for a groundedness, and the choice I made early on was to physicalize Tim so that his inner and outer world were matched.

Tim finds it really hard to lie; he can’t not be completely transparent. The decoding of Hawk is something that fills all sorts of needs in Tim. But as he gets older and [society’s] way of thinking aligns with his need to disassemble the cards he’s been given, Tim finds a stillness and a calm, which is reflected in the way he can then handle Hawk.

MB: Hawk does have his allegiances and his own sense of empathy, but if it comes down to anything that’s going to threaten his survival, he can go full Scorpio and cut it off. [He’s] a little Mother Teresa, a little Tony Soprano. [Laughs.]

JB: And in the performing of [those scenes], Tim felt so much more love than I thought he would. In episode two, I think it became more confusing to play Tim in the best possible way, because when he says, “I don’t understand you” [to Hawk], it’s because he can see the palpable empathy, love, and compassion. That is just as real as everything else, and that is a bind for Tim and really hard to step away from. When they look at each other, there’s no one else that’s ever existed. And if you’re lucky enough to have that with someone, it’s really hard to let that go.

There are little details that anchor each of Hawk and Tim’s sex scenes—the eye contact, the importance of consent, the shifting power dynamics, the negotiation of how much of yourself you’re willing to give to another person. How did you want to subvert traditional depictions of queer intimacy?

MB: We were so fortunate that those scenes were just an extension of the story, that the relationship was never the same after one of those scenes as it was before. It was always an externalization of what was going on with the characters internally.

JB: I think it’s a rule that [creator] Ron [Nyswaner] learned on Homeland where every single scene has to further the story—and that’s true of the sex scenes. Because there haven’t necessarily been elevated, eight-hourlong gay dramas like this; there was space to breathe, and that constant negotiation between the two of them is so vital. I remember speaking to [executive producer/director] Dan Minahan in Toronto. We had a good few hours, and we ended up talking about intimacy and how you can capture it on film. The thing that I understand [from] enjoying love stories or intimacy on film is the moments where they surprise each other.

MB: Yeah! It’s not like Hawk’s pushing the envelope the whole time; Tim upends Hawk as much as Hawk upends Tim’s expectations.

JB: We basically started with the chicken soup [scene in episode one], when Hawk seduces Tim for the first time. By the time we were in episode four, we were really emboldened as a team. As Jonny and Matt, we were always whispering, “This is absolutely fine, if you want to do this.” For so many people, it’s bizarre to think of that as a job. But when the material is as rich as this, no stone will go unturned into [depicting] how intricate, sensitive, celebratory, and joyful those moments are.

MB: I believe everybody should get to play every role, but I think the fact that we’re both openly gay men lent an ease and an understanding of a lot of the aspects of the relationship.

JB: You can have conversations between yourselves of why your instincts are cropping up in those moments. It was a bit like when, just before they dive, synchronized divers do that thing where they jump up and clap.

MB: [Laughs.] That was us! And there’s no [going] halfway in scenes like those that are written in this [show]. You know you have to go all the way.

Knowing that the entire emotional weight of their relationship rests on the penultimate line, “Promise you won’t write,” what did you want to convey in Hawk and Tim’s final scene together outside the governor’s ball? What do you remember from shooting their goodbye scene?

MB: I remember everything about that day.

JB: Yeah, I do too. Everything was in hyper-focus. It was overwhelming.

MB: It’s one of those scenes that you’re really glad you didn’t have to shoot on day two, because we had five and a half months of history [with] these characters. It was one of the last things we filmed together.

JB: I left [Toronto] early as well [to shoot Bridgerton], so we didn’t finish [shooting] together. We finished the love story in that scene.

MB: Yes, that’s right. It was one of those days at work where you have to try to get out of your own way and trust that all you’ve invested in these roles and these relationships will be inside of you. You don’t have to try to force or push anything; you have to just try to keep it alive and spontaneous when the cameras are rolling.

JB: I think we filmed it in the first take, didn’t we?

MB: Yeah.

JB: There are moments in that scene when it was like the world melted away. It’s amazing to see Tim establish his boundaries and be really kind with it. In that moment, he’s fully centered and aligned, and Hawk helps give him that final push to go, “I know what I’m doing, and what I’m saying is the right thing.” He’s never really known that with Hawk.

MB: Yeah, Hawk is finally emotionally vulnerable. I had every intention of coming into that scene and not letting any emotional vulnerability creep through, but it’s just one of those things where the scene takes over and you don’t want to block it.

Have either of you given much thought to what a second season of Fellow Travelers could look like?

JB: What I hope this [season] will be is a trampette into telling other queer stories, because two white gay men are the way in [to start a larger conversation], and it would be so interesting to have a world explored of [Jelani Alladin’s] Marcus and [Noah J. Ricketts’] Frankie. They were such a massive reason why I was like, “Okay, this is going to be good.”

MB: They weren’t in the book, and it was so important from the creatives that we included that narrative.

JB: I would totally come back and support Frankie’s story.

MB: Yeah, I would come in and do two days—whatever they need me for.

JB: Frankie and Marcus up front, and I’ll be there.

Surely, we all deserve to have the two of you star in a rom-com together (with a happier ending than this one).

JB: If someone comes up with it... Who would be the dream?

MB: To direct?

JB: Yeah. Luca Guadagnino?

MB: Yes, Luca or Andrew Haigh.

JB: We’ll do it!

MB: We’re there. And Russell T. Davies, if it’s a miniseries.

Have you discussed collaborating again in the future?

MB: Listen, sign me up to work with Jonathan Bailey any time. [They shake hands.] I will bring a tray to his character at the dinner table in a scene.

JB: Stop it. As long as it’s [like] Upstairs, Downstairs…

MB: [Laughs.] Yes, exactly. I would love that. Next time, I have to be British though. And I’ll come to London.

JB: I’ll be a Texan cowboy. [They laugh.]

In addition to Fellow Travelers, you both have new projects that will be debuting in the coming months. Matt, what were some of your takeaways from working with Bradley Cooper on Maestro?

MB: Bradley is such a generous and beyond talented scene partner—and his style of directing is so electric and present. He wants everything happening on the camera for the first time. I feel like I was really the beneficiary of his process before I started work on Fellow Travelers because I got to watch him and Carey [Mulligan] travel through all these phases of their multidecade romance. And then, [I was] getting to work with Johnny—who’s so similar in many regards, so generous, always keeping you on your toes and bringing things to the material that make the scene richer.

JB: Has Bradley watched Fellow Travelers?

MB: I keep telling him to! And Carey says she wants to. She keeps asking me where it’s on in England.

The third season of Bridgerton will premiere in two parts on May 16 and June 13, 2024. Jonathan, what new layers of Kate (Simone Ashley) and Anthony’s relationship will we see in the new season?

JB: I’m a massive fan of “Kanthony.” There’s so much to enjoy for both of them now, and we explore that in season three. They’ve overcome a lot. [We’re] talking about the need for communication in a romance, and that study of how they communicate and how little they did communicate until the very end [of season two]. So now, we can see them completely celebrate each other for who they are. There are really lovely conversations about heritage and familial roles, and once you meet someone who understands you fully, having sacrificed so much for the families as they both have, how exciting [it is] to make decisions that might change the course for them [as a couple].

Source

#fellow travelers #jonathan bailey #matt bomer #interviews #interviews:2023 #wmagazine interview #NEW!

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outro-jo · 1 year ago

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skz helping you through your chemo treatments

pairing: skz members x reader

type: headcanon? scenario? i can’t tell the difference sometimes

warning: medical shit, mentions of chemo (obviously), mentions of food, mentions of being sick/having a hard time post chemo, mentions of needles

notes: once again i’m being self indulgent but i’ve just come back from a chemo treatment myself. this isn’t just for cancer (though it can certainly apply) but autoimmune diseases and other illnesses that require chemo therapy 🤍 if this applies to you, just know i’m sending you love. this shit is brutal!

NOT TAKING REQUESTS AT THIS TIME

masterlist | info

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chan- the second he finds out about your next appointment, he schedules to be off work and this happens EVERY time. he just has to be with you. he can’t even imagine you being all alone to deal with this yourself (even if you have before), he doesn’t want you to ever have to. before the appointment, he listens intently to all it entails so that he can prepare the best for you. the amount of time it takes doesn’t bother him at all. he packs a clean blanket, snacks, a sandwich, water/electrolytes, a hoodie of his, his laptop to catch up on the show y’all are watching. the man is over prepared and he’s perfectly fine with that. his hand is in yours the entire time unless the medications knock you out, then he’s perfectly content to work on some beats on his laptop. chris is your rock.

lee know- minho has found a way to be at every appointment with you. he even went on a temporary hiatus because your health has been such a problem. all of your symptoms were so concerning and holding your hand at the appointment where you finally got your diagnosis was bittersweet. on the one hand, it was a relief to finally have a name to all those symptoms you had and that you weren’t going crazy. you spent so many nights crying in pain and confusion that it seemed like your body was turning on you and minho held you every time, even crying with you a few nights. on the other hand, hearing there was no cure and this would be a long, marathon to the eventual end of your life was so daunting but minho assured you every time that you haven’t been and would never be alone. so while you took a shuttle for your first hospital stay and treatment, minho went back to your shared apartment to get everything you would need for the stay. the ride was anything but quiet or leisurely. minho was pissed. why you of all people? you’re the most precious thing in the universe and now you had to deal with this? for the rest of your life? the brunette screamed, cried, beat the steering wheel, needing to get out his anger and frustration so that he could be the best for you, and of course he was. as soon as he was back at the hospital, they started treatment and he didn’t let go of your hand or your side for a second.

changbin- anxious didn’t even begin to cover it. it didn’t matter how many times you reassured him that it wasn’t a big deal and that you’ve done this before, he was still a mess. not to mention he was a MENACE to the nurses, asking what everything was for and how long it would take, the process of everything, and how it should effect you. once your treatment started, you got to see everything he brought with him in a literal duffle bag. a heated, massager eye mask, snacks for a whole week, kimchi and rice his mom made, blankets and pillows, slippers. this man truly brought everything. also he had called ahead of time to make sure you had a private pod to make sure you weren’t disturbed by anyone but your nurse. he’s insane but you wouldn’t have it any other way. he was your binnie and he wanted to make sure you had the absolute best care. what’s funny is after a few treatments with you, he knows exactly what to expect and seems so cocky about everything. “you sure that the right pre-treatment medication? we used x last time.”

hyunjin- unfortunately, hyunjin is squeamish when it comes to needles. he’s tried before and each time you’re the one supporting him through it. he decided that he was better off supporting you through facetime which worked out because he had to work but the boys didn’t mind also keeping you company. even when the meds inevitably knocked you out, hyunjin admired your tired features to still be there with you while waiting for his turn to record. which was fine until you woke up to seungmin staring at you. “you snore.” the real support came after you were sent home. it can be a little rough in the days after treatment and hyunjin finally got his chance to shine. chan let him go home early so he could pick you up from the treatment center as soon as the nurse said they were wrapping up. he helped you out to the car and then up to your apartment to help you get clean and in bed. he made sure to cook or get only the foods that didn’t make you anymore nauseous and he forced you back into bed when the steroids kicked in, giving you more energy that you would ultimately pay for later if you used it. his favorite thing was just cuddling with you and watching your favorite shows, jumping at the chance to help any way he could.

han- jisung did everything he could to be there, as he usually was, but the comeback was important and he just couldn’t get out of dance practice and recording. he was antsy all day, his knee is a perpetual state of motion. normally this would bug minho and he would jab his rib cage for him to stop but he refrained out of compassion for his friend. jisung was constantly checking his phone and texting you, checking in on you or encouraging you through the lengthy, grueling treatment with promises of giving you all the cuddles and kisses you could stand when it was over. though you’ve managed on your own before, you missed him being there and holding his hand through everything. jisung was your rock and he intended to continue being that for you the very second he heard from chan that he could go for the day. it was very late when he finally arrived at your shared flat and he found you curled up under a mountain of blankets, no doubt exhausted from the day. he offered a sympathetic pout to no one in particular before crawling into the bed next to you, pulling you into his arms and kissing your temple gently.

felix- he’s honestly the best person in the whole world to bring with you. felix is sunshine and positivity but he’s also extremely lowkey about everything. he knows that your probably stressed enough as it is so he just wants to be a good support for you. so, he just brings his laptop, some snacks, water, and his hoodie; just a few basics to keep you comfortable. then the two of you sit and watch asmr or your comfort show to keep pass the time. every time you look over at him he just smiles wide and kisses your temple. your hand is his the whole time and he rubs soothing circles onto the back of it. when you both get home, the apartment is fully stocked with all your favorite foods and post treatment pain meds, the sheets on your bed are fresh and clean, and he’s ready to support you any way he can until you’re back on your feet again. “angel” is an understatement.

seungmin- he’s so weirdly fascinated by everything, starting with your diagnosis. as soon as you told him, he wanted to do a deep dive on what it was, how it effected you, and what the treatment was that you needed. by the time you arrived to the center, he was telling you everything the nurse was doing (like you didn’t already know). it would have been so annoying if he wasn’t so incredibly cute. even though he was flexing his knowledge the whole time, he was still supporting you in other ways. learning about the treatment, made it easy for him to know what to expect so he was well prepared. when the nurse first prepared the infusion sight, he pulled you into his chest to have you look away from the needle. he told you a funny story about the boys when they took your blood pressure to keep it low and a few hours in, your stomach started growling and he pulled out a snack he had minho make and some water. he really thought of everything he could and you were so grateful for him.

i.n- jeongin was devastated when he found out that tour was scheduled when you would need a treatment. though he wasn’t a huge fan of hospitals, etc, he still wanted to be there to support you. so he did everything he could while he was away. that morning, you awoke to a flower arrangement at your door, then he hired a cleaning person to come in and clean while you were gone, and even had lunch delivered during the treatment. he also texted, sent voice memos of encouragement, and videos of sound check and backstage before the show. when he was finally home, he didn’t allow you to lift a finger. anything you wanted or needed, he was there for you, especially when you needed cuddles.

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emilymk20 · 6 months ago

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TW: $u!c!d3 $h 4n4

…

This is my note that I’ve had written out for a while 🙃 Fair warning, it is really long. I don’t know, maybe it could help somebody, whether it helps them keep going or just helps them relate. Much love 🫶🏻🖤

This is so cliche, but I feel obligated to leave some kind of explanation. I am absolutely positive there has always been something wrong with me. Normal people don’t want to die at eleven years old. One thing I was always good at was covering it up; I almost wish my struggle was more visible, but I know that people always just want to help and truthfully help is the last thing I want. More reason why there’s probably something wrong because who thinks like that? The one thing that I am losing is empathy. It was always empathy that made me “better.” I didn’t want to make anyone waste their time worrying and I didn’t want to be seen for what I am so I started eating more, I stopped cutting myself, I didn’t take the pills, I didn’t cry, I didn’t let myself feel anything. In a way that made me hold on; the idea that I didn’t want anyone to have to find my body, I didn’t want anybody to mourn me, I didn’t want anyone to think that they could have helped me, and I definitely didn’t want anyone to think that the decision I made was their fault. I don’t expect anyone to understand it, but nothing happened to make me feel this way. Some awful things have happened in the midst of it, but there’s no root cause or trigger; I apply blame to nothing and nobody except myself and the operations of my own brain.

I’m tired. It’s so difficult to explain, but I think I’ve felt so deeply for so long, I have nothing left to feel. I feel like a shell of a person. I’ve noticed a recent trend in the past three years that I’ve never experienced before in the impulsively of my emotional rollercoaster. I’ll spend days, weeks, sometimes months feeling so proud of myself and hopeful, motivated more than ever before to better myself, happy where I am, and then in a matter of minutes it all slips away from me. I push everyone away and I can’t help but stop trying. I won’t eat or I’ll eat until I’m sick from it, I’ll cut myself because that’s the only thing that can make me feel, I won’t sleep at all or I’ll sleep all day, I won’t clean, I won’t shower, I won’t even get up to use the restroom. It’s as if I go completely brain dead, but my thoughts still won’t stop racing. Then, once I can come to terms with it all and maybe find a solution, the mania hits again and it all doesn’t matter anymore because I feel like I’m on top of the world. I don’t eat because it feels good to be hungry or I’ll eat a lot because “I deserve it,” I don’t sleep because that seems like so much valuable time going to waste, or I’ll sleep a lot because it’s a form of self care and if my body is that tired I should let it, and I’ll cut myself still because it’s empowering and I find it almost pretty. Nothing tangible ever changes, just the unbearable fluctuation of my head. Maybe that’s why it’s so easy for me to hide it, because to everyone on the outside, that is my normal.

I constantly feel like I’m watching myself glued to a tightrope. I can pull myself down to my lowest, feeling all that tension, and then suddenly skyrocket to my full potential. Well, I have to fall back down at some point, and I always do. The only thing is that I’m stuck. I’m stuck in my head in that cycle and the only way out is to fall off. Sure, there’s ways to get make it bearable, I mean there has to be some diagnosis for all this to explain it, but would I really want to spend my life maintaining symptoms? Would I really want to spend my whole life fighting? No. I don’t even want to spend the present fighting. I know from the outsider’s perspective I just seem lazy, and trust me, I feel that way too.

I can’t even begin to describe how exhausting it is. What I think about often is how humans are awake during the day, but you can always take a break when nighttime comes to sleep. I’m hyper aware of everything that takes my energy that I don’t have control over. My brain never stops thinking, my blood never stops pumping, my body never stops breathing…I know these are things that regular people don’t think about, but with every breath I take it feels like a loss. I just want nothing more than real rest and peace of mind. I don’t understand why things bother me when everyone else wouldn’t even have these thoughts pass their mind. Why am I so introspective and aware? Ignorance truly is bliss.

It seems really crazy, maybe because I am crazy, but the higher points of my life are more painful than the lows have been. There’s something so comforting about losing my drive, letting myself slow down, watching myself rot away and fall further from reality; it’s almost my ideal, but not quite. I just want true rest. I really wish I had the option to completely start over. I romanticize my childhood so much; bittersweet nostalgia is my biggest downfall. I was so clueless then; so full of joy. I wish that I could put my finger on what happened and when it all went wrong. I don’t know why I long for that life so much now; I love being independent and having the freedom to make my own decisions as an adult, but maybe it’s the immanence of responsibility always pushing me down. I miss the days before it started looming over me. I don’t feel as though I was ready to be on my own, I don’t think I ever learned how to handle that freedom because all I’ve done is abuse it. There are irreparable decisions that I’ve made for the specific purpose of digging myself deeper in a hole because I feel like that’s what I deserve. You can say that’s not true all you want, but it’s a little too late to still be invalidating my feelings so allow me.

My self hatred is so deep rooted, I can feel it in every nerve of my body. I’m embarrassed by myself. Truly, if I was somebody else, I wouldn’t even speak to me. I am undesirable in every aspect; I harbor so much jealousy, I’m a deadbeat, it’s probably been a decade since I’ve made a “good decision,” I’m annoying, I talk way too much, I have a huge ego (which is interesting because obviously I don’t like myself all that much), I have too much baggage, I’m ugly, I’m insecure, I have no room to consider anyone else in life, and I don’t care. To my core, I wish I could be anyone but me. I don’t know how to describe the gravity of me wishing I was dead. It doesn’t even seem like that big of a deal to me anymore because in all honesty I feel like I’ve been slowly slipping away anyways. Death is not a stranger to me; I feel like I’ve been hanging out on the front porch of the end for far too long, and I just can’t wait to step through that door. When I was little, it was always, “I want to die, but I guess I can wait until after _______…” There was still some hope back then. Now it seems that my hope has run out for me and I just don’t care anymore. I am sorry, but I have exhausted every option for me, and I believe that it’s time for me to regain control at least for a final moment.

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