#and the daily agonizing fear of being pulled over again and getting a ticket that i cant afford because i cant afford to pay for my tags

[chucklechampion]

evening dedicated to The Horrors

[levi-ish]

Levi calming you down from a panic attack

A/N: I just woke up to a bad panic attack, i’ve been having those again repeatedly and i just wish i had someone taking care of me like this. so i wrote it. sorry, hope you enjoy and if you feel shitty like me, know you’re not alone.

Trigger Warnings: PANIC ATTACK, self harm (?)

Masterlist

you liked when levi joked around. he barely had time to mess with people when he had to be humanity’s strongest, and because of the very present frown on his face, not everyone could distinguish his playful tone.

it kinda annoyed him but he was happy to know that you could separate one from another, always letting out small giggles when he messed with new recruits, making them shit themselves just for fun. he liked to see fearful eyes and then just smirk, watching as they realized he wasn’t being serious at all, and nervous laughs would leave their mouths then.

you liked how he could find a way of entertainment even in that shitty world, even if it was chaos comedy, but what you liked the most, was that he always knew when to get serious.

mental health wasn’t the best since you had to deal with awful things on daily basis. you’d often hear screams of agonizing pain, watch blood pour out like heavy rain and drench uniforms and sometimes, watch people get eaten in seconds without any struggle. trauma lived close to you, and you felt like your golden years were spent getting the worst kinds of experiences to fill some kind of trashy scrapbook of god for a joke.

some people never came back from it, going into a full state of shock without a ticket back to reality, having those eyes widened for life and not even an ounce of hope of returning.

you were lucky to only have those panic attacks. even if those motherfuckers were the worst.

you’d wake at night and feel like you had something crawling under your skin and your stomach would curl inside, twisting into a tight knot until it felt like you couldn’t breathe and your worst fears would come alive to visit, enjoying the moment of pain. even if it lasted for a few seconds, it always felt like a lifetime, watching and replaying scenes of traumatizing moments in front of your eyes as cold sweat dripped under your clothes.

you hated it. you hated that. you hated how it affected you. you hated how you had no control over it and would always end up crying alone in the middle of the night, feeling like life wasn’t supposed to be that bad and how some angry fellow from above seemed to enjoy that sick joke.

but things were better when levi was around. even when he enjoyed sick jokes, that was the one he hated the most. he hated to see how your eyes would plead for freedom and how your muscles would tense, sometimes having to hold your arms from harming yourself in a moment of pure panic, trying to replace one pain with another. he wanted nothing more than to take your suffering and turn into his.

he could take a few more punches from life and he would do it for you without a second thought.

while the man could slice a titan’s nape without any struggle, he couldn’t really touch someone without having all those intrusive thoughts always telling him he was doing something wrong. but when it was about you, he wouldn’t hesitate to do his best to make you feel better.

he knew he shouldn’t leave your side while the panic hit. he would stay there and let you grip his hand if it was a slight one or even hold you close to help your heartbeats calm down. sometimes you didn’t feel like touching, so he would just stay there for comfort until you came down from the unwanted high and needy of a single hug. he knew he shouldn’t be asking many questions because it could overwhelm you, so he would just do whatever you needed him to do, and make sure you knew he wasn’t going anywhere until you were totally okay.

he didn’t mind the times it hit you so hard that you had to scratch something, offering his own skin, or ask for a slap across your face, only to receive a light one because he was scared of hurting you (even though you assured him that it was one of the best ways to bring you back to reality). your body was always limp from all the trembling and your legs would shake repeatedly, making sure you couldn’t walk for a good while, he would just press your hand slightly and make sure you were all good so he could go to the kitchen and brew you some tea — he would use his best leaves because you deserved it from being so brave.

sometimes you would cry and shake after, feeling ashamed and weak, so vulnerable that you had to go through it all without ever letting anyone else know, but the man would just shake his head and reassure you that he wanted to help you no matter what, pulling you to his chest so you could hear his heart thumping on your ear, calming all your nerves down.

“you’re safe”

“it’ll be okay”

“you’re so strong”

“you can do it”

“i’m here for you”

he would whisper in your ear as he rocked you ever so slightly, running a hand through your locks to calm you down and make sure you knew he wouldn’t ever leave. he is here, right here and right now, and he isn’t going anywhere.

after a little while, the silence being the only thing comforting you two, he would make some shitty statement, just because he couldn’t really abandon that part of his that you truly loved.

“c’mon ‘humanity’s strongest’s strongest’, your tea is getting cold”

and he just loved how a faint laugh would escape your lips, only for you to sit back on the bed, still interlacing your fingers with his and feeling his heat in his palms as you grabbed the steaming cup by the rim, mocking his antics and earning an eye roll.

what really mattered was that you were okay, and he was okay, and he made you feel okay. you didn’t need anything else; it was perfect just like that.

[worryingthing]

Hello, back again with more cards. It’s late August and everything feels bad. Pulling cards feels like a trick I try to do to get myself to think and articulate my feelings, and that’s all it’s for. I tried to scroll through tumblr but I can’t remember what being on this platform is supposed to be like anymore, even though for so long it was a huge part of my life. It just slipped away like so many other things. It also feels bad to sit at my desk, to type, to have the length of my forearm pressing into the desk so I can type. I haven’t been sitting at a desk for the months of homestay and have barely touched my computer. I’m noticing I’m barely able to read text without hunching forward, without my glasses I mean. I have looked up so so many laptop stands and found nothing that is to my liking. I’d like to raise the computer a ltitle to see better, I’d also like a better angle for zooms and discord video chats, etc. 

Anyway, I put the tin of cards on my desk, which has so little space and is totally cluttered over with things, and one card fell out and the second I pulled out of the deck while shuffling. The card that fell was the 8 or swords, the card I pulled was the 7 of swords reversed. Just two people with some sword problems, but we’ve all been there. 

I’m wondering what’s not a problem these days? The waking hours feel like an agonizing thing to toil through, to try to pass and spend and exhaust because for some reason we’re universally subjected to consciousness. Like getting a ton of tickets at a cheap arcade, and reluctantly exchanging them for some less than satisfying plastic doodad. Was that really the whole point of playing the game? 

Anyway we’re moving soon and maybe things will get better? It feels impossible that things could improve, or that change at all is possible. That these patterns and horrible hours could ever shift off their already set purgatory course. The 8 of swords knows this feeling, there she stands encased in swords, bound and blindfolded. He perspective and movement are inhibited, limited, blocked off. She feels, and is, trapped. 

“The Eight of Swords reveals that you feel trapped and restricted by your circumstances. You believe your options are limited with no clear path out.”

“When the Eight of Swords appears in a Tarot reading, it comes as a warning that your thoughts and beliefs are no longer serving you. You may be over-thinking things, creating negative patterns or limiting yourself by only considering the worst-case scenario. The more you think about the situation, the more you feel stuck and without any options. It is time to get out of your head and let go of those thoughts and beliefs holding you back. As you change your thoughts, you change your reality. Replace negative thoughts with positive ones, and you will start to create a more favorable situation for yourself.“

Now, this is the part I truly groan at: “The Eight of Swords assures you there is a way out of your current predicament – you just need a new perspective. You already have the resources you need, but it is up to you to use those resources in a way that serves you.”

What can I say to this? Who doesn’t feel trapped and bound right now? in their homes, with their thoughts, with the eternal recurrence of daily life amidst a pandemic? I’m miserable, but so is everyone else, and for a lot more reasonable reasons! This thought unfortunately fails to shrink the misery, but instead makes me feel selfish for my little complaints which, as the 8 of swords says, do not serve me or anyone. So here I am with these wasted hours that I wonder what to do with, with the impending move (when? this weekend? mid month? we don’t know and I can’t Not Know, it is Virgo season c’mon), with my keyboard that mysteriously sticks whenever I try to use shift and a symbol, with my too short desk and my clutter, trying to consider all these things going into boxes and transitioning to a new space that I should start to feel hope for the way a seed germinates and then starts to reach up and out towards light for the purpose of L I F E. Things that went into boxes will come out and maybe magically be better in new light, with new space, and new rooms, new roots? 

Ok so Upside down sword problem man, what’ve you got? “The Seven of Swords often appears reversed when you feel like a fraud and are suffering from ‘imposter syndrome’. You may doubt yourself and your abilities. For example, if you have started a new business, you may ask yourself, 'Who am I to be doing this?' Know that this is fear talking. Get out of your head and trust that you have everything you need to make your new venture a success.”

Look at this dude, he’s like “I’m getting away, I have so many swords! *clank clank clank clank* OW!!” I dropped a knife off the counter last night and it barely missed my foot. Stigmata honestly sounds refreshing at this point. These cards seem to suggest I get out of my head, but how?? Is that what this writing is?? and I ask myself “who am I to be doing this?” about EVERYTHING. Who isn’t always walking around like ‘ooooh I will be found out’ about some part or the whole makeup of their “identity”. What is identity now, at home, with overgrown hair and shoes with no tread worn down hanging neatly as they were left at the end of the last warm season, no place to be or be seen, not that being seen is optimal, but also how does self expression and self actualization work anymore? I have so many questions, and thankfully there are many cards, and maybe less thankfully or sort of half heartedly, there are many more days. I don’t know, this is just an account of the times because I’ve often regretted when I didn’t write through other things. Next month it’ll be a year since we were in Japan and I regret not writing every single day I was there, constantly, just to have more to go back and drink in!! and to share, oof to share. Well, now I have at least successfully passed an hour. So, there’s that.