#because agoraphobia be silly like that

[twentysidednerd]

while hawaiian shirts still give me massive amounts of gender euphoria, i fear cargo pants are slowly creeping up towards that number one spot because i just bought my first pair today and this is legitimately the sexiest i‘ve felt in so long

i haven’t combined them with the hawaiian shirts yet but when i do, it’s all over for you fuckers /lhj

[loullipopx]

[circusballoon]

It's my 29th birthday today!! I typically try to draw something self indulgent but I had NOO idea which character I wanted to draw for me this year because I was torn between a whole bunch. So I decided maybe the best option was to just draw that whole bunch of characters, so I did!

This past year has been a wild combo of highs and lows, but boy, I'm super proud of how much work I've put towards my mental health and acceptance of myself. I'm in a vastly different and better spot this year and I'm really grateful for all the past iterations of me that got me to where I am today.

Here's to another year of leaning more into the wild and messy chaos of being me!!

[lovebugism]

steve request for adjusting back to normality with him after the upside down ends? however much u wanna write 🤭🤍🤍 ur writing is gorgeous btw

ty angel! hope you like it!! — steve helps his agoraphobic gf leave the house for the first time since the world ended (established relationship, hurt/comfort, cw for mentions of agoraphobia | 1.5k)

bug's summer fic fest (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

You sit on the stairwell and tie your shoes, trying desperately to ignore the trembling of your anxious fingers. The thin laces threaten to slip from your tremoring hands as you knot one loop into the other. You couldn’t hide from your worry if you tried.

Steve’s heavy footsteps sound behind you in a steady, even rhythm as he walks down the stairs. You can hear the dull clapping of the boy patting his pockets to ensure his keys and wallet haven’t yet fallen from them. You know he’ll do exactly that another ten times before you step foot out of the house. He’s just as anxious as you are these days.

“Almost ready?” he says, huffing, though a smile is evident in his voice.

You nod to yourself and make careful work of fastening the laces. “Mhm,” you hum.

“Did you make sure to pack those Ants on a Log things? ‘Cause Dustin’ll kill me if we don’t bring ‘em,” Steve frets, for the second or third time that morning. He stills on the step just behind you and crosses a pair of golden arms over his chest. “Because, you know, he’s the only kid in America who actually likes celery.”

You tilt your chin to look up at him, smiling despite the fear pinching your chest. “Everything’s in the basket, Stevie.”

“Including the—”

“Yes, including the drinks. And the sandwiches. It’s all in the fridge,” you finish for him. “And the blanket’s in the car, so… Everything’s ready.”

Steve’s chest deflates with a distant sigh of relief. He’s been so used to doing everything on his own — carrying the load of that burden entirely by himself — that he forgot what it meant to have someone else to lean on.

“God, I’m so in love with you,” he murmurs fondly, mostly to himself, as he bends at the waist to kiss your hair. The plush of his lips brush your temple in a warm touch you lean instinctively into. 

With a wide hand on your shoulder, Steve feels for the first time how tense you are. All rigid, muscles taut, like cradling a rock in his palm. You’ve kept a brave face for him all day, but there’s only so much hiding you can do.

“You’re still okay with this?” he wonders aloud as he stands to full height again. 

His scruffy face is all twisted with concern, but you’re not looking at him to see it. You tie your right sneaker with a pair of graceless hands, where you seem to hold most of your anxiety, and scoff at the silly question. “Am I okay with the… picnic?” you echo.

“Yeah,” Steve shrugs, lips jutted, as he walks past you down the steps. He turns and leans against the railing, trying hard to be casual. “‘Cause, you know, if you weren’t, we could just have it in the backyard or something. Make all the little shits come here.”

It takes you a moment too long to catch his meaning.

Sometimes you forget that you haven’t left the house all year. You’ve fallen into such a routine here, at Steve’s house (which you’ve come to see as your own), that you’ve forgotten there’s a whole world outside of it. A whole world you shut yourself out of after it nearly ended — after it chewed you up and spat you out again.

You tell yourself that you survived. You tell yourself that you lived in spite of the unfavorable odds. But sometimes, when you feel like shards of flesh and bones instead of a real-life human being, you wonder if you’re alive at all.

“I’m good, Steve,” you assure despite the waver in your voice. Your hands fumble with the laces, and you have to start all over again. “It’s just the park, babe. I can make it to the park.”

Steve nods in response, raking an anxious hand through his hair. He swallows down any attempts to remind you that you’ve barely made it out of the garage, let alone to the park.

“Besides, I’m pretty sure it’s a crime to be this pale in the middle of July, anyway,” you joke with a forced laugh. 

The only time you really see the sun is when you’re sitting out on the patio — sipping at your morning coffee or watching Steve languish in the pool. You hardly last more than an hour, though, before a plane rumbles overhead or a car engine thunders too loudly. That’s all it takes for everything to come rushing back to you. The monsters, the soldiers, the blood. Then you lock yourself away all over again.

You hope this time is different.

Steve nods again, always hopeful, if only for your sake.

“Okay. Just… Just making sure, you know?” he trails off, then scrunches his nose. “Should we have a codeword, anyway? Like, for when the kids annoy the shit outta me, and I wanna get the hell outta there?”

You squint to yourself, pretending to ponder the question, as you rise from the stairs. You take a few steps downward until you’re standing just ahead of Steve — a few inches taller than him now. 

“How about… Get me the hell outta here?” you offer with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

A wide, pink grin blossoms on his mouth. “That’s perfect, actually,” Steve muses sarcastically, then meets you halfway when you lean down to kiss him. 

It’s a chaste and very innocuous peck that tastes faintly of Steve’s mouthwash and the peanut butter you licked from the spoon after making Dustin’s Ants on a Log. 

Despite its fleeting nature, you hang onto the simple kiss your entire way through the front door.

The first step out of the house is the hardest. 

You struggle to feel the ground beneath your feet as your mind threatens to wander. Thoughts of death plague your mind despite your attempts to push them away — roaring demogorgons, exploding guns, screaming teenagers. You have to fight the urge to cover your ears when a helicopter whizzes overhead, hidden somewhere in the clouds but sounding much closer than that.  

Steve holds your hand the entire way. “Almost there,” you hear him mumbling beneath the heartbeat woosh, woosh, wooshing in your ears. Your eyes squeeze shut. He leads you to the car and squeezes your hand. “You’re doing amazin’, babe. Just a couple more steps.”

You’re at the car in five seconds flat, though it had felt like five minutes at the time — and took approximately five years off your life. You feel eons better when you’re tucked into the passenger seat of Steve’s 733i. You feel more grounded there — with the tires against the asphalt, and Steve’s hand on your thigh, and the radio cranked all the way up.

You’re still a shaking mess when you get to the park, but the kids are a good enough distraction. 

You opt to busy your anxious hands with the picnic — handing out food, protecting drinks, and ensuring the emptying basket doesn’t blow away. You sit in the shade in the center of Steve’s quilt as leaves rustle in the warm breeze, allowing bits of summer sun to peek through and glitter on your skin. 

You keep a watchful eye on the kids around you as they scatter mindlessly about, making sure no one ventures far enough where you can’t see them. Steve yells at them for it so you don’t have to — shouts at Max and El for getting too close to the tree line while he tosses a ball to Lucas. 

He’s slowly mastering the art of throwing with his left hand. He hasn’t been able to lift his right one over his head since Starcourt. There’s a persistent ache in his shoulder he hasn’t been able to get rid of.

He walks over to you when the distance grows too much to bear, twisting his arm with a screwed-up face as he tries to find the root of the pain. “Whaddaya got for me, sweet thing?” he asks with a lopsided smile.

You reach into the basket beside you and pull out the last sandwich of the bunch, which you kept aside especially for him, wrapped neatly in plastic.

You hiss playfully through your teeth, then squint faux apologetically up at him. “All that’s left is tomato-avocado…” you joke, feigning horror.

Steve’s face twists. “Ugh. Seriously?” he huffs in disappointment.

“No,” you hum in response, smiling as you pass him his favorite sandwich. “Here you go.”

It’s a simple turkey, ham, and bacon number with all the fixings, but he particularly likes how you make it. (You argue that it can’t taste any better than a diner-made sandwich, but Steve always insists otherwise.) 

Your fingers brush when it takes it from you. Steve finds it difficult not to melt for you entirely, and not just because of the sweltering summer heat. 

He’s spent half of his life believing that no one ever gave him a passing thought — or that, at the very least, he was only ever an afterthought. But you remind him every day that he’s so much more than the nothing he often sees himself as. You remind him, through silly picnics and sandwiches made with love, what it means to be truly cared for.

“I love you,” Steve hums quietly, adoration melting in his honey eyes. “You know that?”

You nod once, hiding a smile as you squint one eye from the beaming sun. “I know.”

[stayevildarling]

May I please request Agatha x reader where reader has such bad anxiety that they often don't leave the house because of it. Reader thinks Agatha deserves someone better, but she comforts reader?

Agatha Harkness x Reader- Tangled in fear, wrapped in magic

A/N: Thank you so much for this request. I‘m a whore for mental health fics like these so. Also this is my first time writing Agatha so please be kind to me😅🫶🏼

tags/tw: established relationship, female reader, mention of anxiety, mention of depression, mention of panic attacks, mention of agoraphobia

word count: 3.5k

taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker , @billiebeanhoward , @lanawinters-ily , @kenzbro , @minaslittleone , @httpfiftyshadesofgay @whitelotus00 , @ninaahelvar , @paulsonsratched , @vintagepaulson , @isle-of-earle , @grilledcheeseandguavajelly , @lucyintheskywithxanax , @fanfics4world , @mymiraclewitch , @hazard-to-myself , @awritersometimes , @wastdstime , @p1pecleanerwitheyes , @queen2234 , @ihartnat , @lifebyinez , @ahsatanizgay , @blu3dimples , @stepintomyworld

When the days began blurring together you knew it was back. The endless nights, days filled with fear and your mind clouded with thoughts. The sadness and fear followed you like a cloud of rain, droplets running down your brain, leaving an emptiness that you couldn‘t shake or fight on your own. It had been bad before, years ago when it all began one afternoon, your chest tightening, your hands and knees shaky and the ability to breathe suddenly leaving you.

Back then it took months of therapy and medication to get over this, to work through the anxiety and depression that followed afterwards, leaving you drained and exhausted. And you had been happy since, enjoying your life and the things you adored, even meeting your perfect and beautiful girlfriend in the process, having been beside her for months, the two of you completing each other perfectly. The two of you had met when you followed your passions and despite the very obvious attraction, the brunette wrapping you around her finger perfectly and capturing your heart.

Life with Aggy was perfect, she spoiled you, reading every wish from your lips, showing you sides to yourself that you had never explored before. Making your body and soul feel cared for and nurtured at all times. Nothing was ever too much for the witch, whether it was spoiling you, taking you on dates or cracking silly jokes to make you laugh. And in return you would give her your world, trusting the older woman with your entire life, letting her guide you in every way. It all started a few weeks ago when she had taken you to lunch on a weekend, excited to try a new place with you that had been hyped for the longest time. You sat opposite each other, her hands always lingering somewhere on you, the two of you chatting and catching up from each other‘s week when it happened.

Your body froze, the entire restaurant spinning for a moment and your head telling you „you are going to pass out“. And that triggered it all, the shaking of your hands, your heart always beating out of your chest and the fear following you everywhere. You never told Agatha, knowing she was way too busy with her life and magic, knowing she had other things to worry about and not wanting to burden her with something this ridiculous. Things turned worse when fear took over your entire being, first the driving- a panic attack after another and making the whole thing impossible. Then simple things like leaving the house or going for a walk and then even moving inside your own shared home with Agatha felt impossible. The fear of going to the bathroom, taking a shower or even to leave the safety of bed, at this point your only safe space, and go to the living room or kitchen.

Fear lingered and followed you everywhere and despite remembering your tools, remembering that this had happened before and passed eventually, you couldn‘t do this again, knowing the mountain of work that was about to follow to work through this and stop the fear. Your health anxiety began coming back, scared to eat certain foods and worried about food poisoning, scared when you felt a small headache or your tummy was upset for a day. Everything scared you, breathing, talking and existing and when that realization hit you, you knew you were lost in the darkness again. It began with not eating much, too scared to even enter the kitchen, forcing yourself to eat with Agatha in the evenings or on the weekends but never feeling truly calm. Accepting Aggys offers about joined baths gladly as the thought of doing it alone scared you.

Of course your girlfriend had noticed, the change of seasons also brought her a different version of you, one that she hadn‘t met before. The rain seems to patter against the windows of your shared apartment for days on end, matching your inner turmoil. She noticed how you were suddenly more quiet, the smile never quite reaching your eyes anymore, often noticing your legs bouncing up and down during meals, the fidgeting which she had never noticed before. And of coure she noticed the tossing and turning at night, having tried countless times to soothe you back to sleep but without success. She had tried a few times to talk to you, offer her support but you couldn‘t confide in her, feeling like a burden.

Your girlfriend noticed how you didn‘t leave the house anymore. You didn‘t work, Agatha prefering to do that part and giving you the freedom you deserved. But you used to go out, to the libraries, your favorite flower shops and cafes, walks by the lake. You would do the grocery shopping mostly, making sure there is a warm meal waiting for her when she would return home. But lately there had been a lot of takeout meals, the fridge empty and when she mentioned it, you ended up ordering groceries, her finding the receipt a few days later. But she couldn‘t connect the pieces yet, not understanding the depths of your pain and fear, assuming at first that maybe you had been tired, possibly a little depressed.

Agatha didn‘t know about the darkness that eloped you, the reoccurring and daily fear, as soon as you would open your eyes and never ending through the silence of the night. It had gotten that bad that you wanted it all to stop, feeling like you aren‘t in control of your body or mind, at times feeling like you are going crazy and this never ending cycle of doom would follow you for all eternity. If it wasn‘t for the love you feel for her, you would have stopped it already, letting go off everything but even the thought of leaving her like that, left a guilt that hurt way worse than what you had been fighting in silence for weeks now. You wanted to explain so badly, wanting her to hold you but the insecurities and nasty thoughts kept you from doing so.

Today had been another slow day spent at home, you sit on the couch again, legs tucked beneath you as you half- heartedly flip through the pages of a book. It wasn‘t that you aren‘t interested in the story, you just couldn‘t focus. The soft patting of rain against the window feels way too loud, your breathing uneaven and your thoughts so loud they crash over you like waves. Every sound from the outside world, an occasional car zooming past, the faint barking of a dog or sirens, another reminder of the scary world outside that was slowly beginning to slip away from you.

Your mind travels to the only bright spot in your life, the woman filling your heart with joy rather than fear and emptiness. But even she had become a source of guilt, you had been avoiding her without ever meaning to, slowly withdrawing from her too, making excuses to stay home when she invited you out, retreating into yourself when she tried to have a conversation with you. She deserved better. Your chest tightens at the thought, Agatha with her charm and wit, her strength and confidence, her powers. What could she possibly still see in you? When the world out there was filled with way more interesting people, witches, people with their lifes together rather than being scared to go out their own front door. She was wasting her time with you, all the effort that she was giving you and not getting an ounce what she deserved in return. You had hoped lately that she would just walk away, take the last piece of will and guilt away and giving you the permission to give into the darkness.

When the front door to your apartment opens softly, your thoughts stop for a moment as you instinctively pull the blanket a little closer to your shivering form. She doesn‘t announce herself, doesn‘t make a show of her return the way she usually would. She never would when you are like this, not wanting to overwhelm you further. Instead , she moves quietly through the room, setting down her bag and slipping off her jacket before glancing at you. „Hi darling“ she greets you softly with a warm smile, trying to keep her concern hidden.

You force a small smile, barely glancing up from your book „Hey“. She pauses as she thinks back to the times you would practically jump into her arms, calling and messaging her on her way home out of excitement and missing her and despite knowing you are struggling with something, it fills her heart with sadness. She pauses, her eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before moving towards the kitchen. „I picked us up something for dinner“ she calls over her shoulder, her tone light and casual, like she wasn‘t trying to probe too much. „Figured we could have a quiet night in“ she offers and you sigh in relief ever so quietly, relieved she isn‘t offering to go somewhere and you having to think of another pathetic excuse. „Sounds good“ is all you manage to reply.

Agatha didn‘t push you, she never did and that almost made the whole thing worse. You knew she could tell something was wrong. But yet she gave you time and space, allowing you to retreat into yourself without demanding answers. It was both a blessing and a curse, because it filled you with relief but at the same time left you alone with your thoughts that hadn‘t been kind lately. You hear her moving around in the kitchen, the clatter of plates and cutlery. Normally, you would join her, help out and crack a few jokes, asking about her day but today you just can‘t, feeling on the verge of tears since she stepped inside your shared home.

Minutes pass in silence and you try and focus on your book again, the only sounds coming from the kitchen but you can‘t, the words bluring together, the weight of your thoughts and anxiety growing heavier by the second. Agatha returns, wiping her hands on a towel as she leans against the doorway, watching you with an unreadable expression. You glance at her briefly and take in her features, the slightly curled hair, her outfit plastered in different shades of purple and suddenly your heart swells, missing her arms around you, her soft kisses all over your body and the feeling of safety. „Hows the book?“ she asks, pulling you out of your thoughts momentarily.

„It‘s fine“ you confess, hoping she wasn‘t gonna ask about the plot as you didn‘t remember a single thing from it. She doesn‘t say anything, simply watching you in that way that makes you feel like she could see right through the walls that you had been trying to build. „Do you want to talk about anything?“ she asks, breaking the silence, her voice soft, almost like she wasn‘t sure if now was the right time to ask. Your stomach instantly twists at the thought of trying to explain the mess inside your head and so you shake your head „I‘m fine“ you say quietly, though even you couldn‘t believe the words coming from your mouth.

She doesn’t push, simply nodding before she turns on her heels, offering a quiet „Alright, I‘m here though“ and leaving back to the kitchen. When she calls out for you a few minutes later for dinner, you can feel the tension building in your chest again, your head feeling fuzzy and your legs barely taking you to the table where she is patiently waiting for you. She looks at you with so much love as she begins eating, so much patience that your heart hurts, you want to tell her so badly, feeling like you owe her some answers, to let her in and show her how terrified you are but the words won‘t come, staying locked inside, trapped behind the anxiety that grips you so tightly.

The brunette watches you carefully as you push your food around with your fork, noticing how you hadn‘t taken a bite yet, her eyes search your face and you can feel the concern radiate from her, even if she was trying to hide it for your sake. „You‘re not eating sweetheart“ she say softly, her tone non-judgmental. You force a small smile, hoping it would be enough to brush off her concern. „I‘m just not that hungry“ you explain. She doesn‘t respond right away, her gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before she finally speaks, her voice quieter now. „You have been like this for a while love, haven‘t you?“ she tries, tilting her head in order to lock eyes with you.

Your heart skips a beat, your stomach twisting painfully, unsure how to answer, knowing she deserved the truth. „I‘m fine“ you repeat, though your voice begins to shake, barely able to hide the tears and the knot in your throat. Agatha sighs softly, setting her fork down and leaning forward slightly. „You don‘t have to be fine with me“ she says gently, her eyes softening. „I don‘t need you to pretend with me“. And that was it, the gentlness in her voice, the concern in her beautiful eyes, enough to cause your fork to fall onto your plate and the tears spilling down your eyes as you catch your head in your hands, the sobs wrecking through you as you can‘t hide them for a second longer.

„Oh darling“ she sigh, in an instand abandoning her food and walking over to you, kneeling in front of you before pulling your frame into her arms. Her world breaks for a moment, seeing you so sad and feeling so helpless at the same time. The usual confident and witty woman knew that not even her magic could fix this but yet she feels some relief, hoping you will finally share what has been burdening you for weeks. „It‘s okay, I‘m here“ she reassures, one hand on your knee, stroking little circles and another on your back, holding you steady and making you feel safe. She lets you cry until the last sob wrecks through your body and when your tear stained, helpless face meets hers, she offers a hand to you, guiding you to the comfort of the sofa before sitting you down and taking a seat beside you.

Agatha gives you patience, sitting beside you for the longest time, through the loudest silence, holding you and passing you the occasional tissue to wipe the tears and blow your nose. „If I knew, I would have bought a life supply of tissues“ she jokes as you go through an entire packet, causing you to giggle for a moment through the tears, the sound so unfamiliar, it takes you both by surprise. „My little lamb..“ she begins, the pet name almost causing more tears to resurface. „Can you tell me what‘s been going on in that pretty little head of yours?“ she asks softly, her hand holding onto yours tightly, another reminder she is there, patient and willing and not considering to leave, not now, not ever.

Her gentleness is enough to break through your walls and slowly every single confession, every thought and all the fear leaves you as you tell her everything that had been going on. Your past struggles with this, the trigger in the restaurant weeks ago and everything since then. And every confession is more painful than the other, Agatha fighting her own tears as she understands the depth of your pain and the intensity of your fear, wishing she would have figured this out sooner as she undeniably would have stepped in, would have handled so many things differently. „My darling girl“ she whispers before her hands hold your cheeks gently „Why didn‘t you tell me?“ she asks, her voice filled with sadness and her eyes filled with tears.

„Because.. Aggy I‘m pathetic … and you deserve so“ but she doesn‘t let you finish. „No“ she snaps, her voice more firm this time, not ever wanting to hear those words leave your lips, struggling enough with the thought of your head having told you that for so long. „Don‘t say that“ she begins, a tear rolling down her cheek. There is silence for a while as the exhaustion of your honesty washes over you and your girlfriend tries collecting her thoughts, unable to believe you had been suffering so much on your own, feeling guilty for not having been there. „But Aggy it‘s true, there is so much more out there for you and you shouldn‘t have to deal with this, you deserve so much better“ you explain, the words hitting her like a billion knifes. She chuckles lowly, a painful one before she locks eyes with you „Kitten, I don‘t even deserve you“ she sighs, knowing how lucky she had been to be loved by you, with all her flaws and her entire past.

„And none of what your head is telling you is true, you are going through a tough time but that doesn‘t mean I deserve you any less or love you any less“ she admits, her hands instinctively holding yours a little tighter, wanting you to believe her statement but the honesty in her eyes already enough to make you believe. „Sweetheart“ she begins speaking again „I don‘t need you to be anything other than who you are, your struggles, they don‘t make you less to me. They are just parts of what make you you, and I happen to love all of you“ she confesses, her finger softly booping your nose and causing you to smile.

„You have never held me back kitten, if anything, you have made me want to stay even more, because don‘t you think I see how hard you fight? even when it feels impossible?“ Her voice drops a little lower, filled with honesty „I don‘t need you to be perfect, you could never be a burden to me, not in the slightest. I choose you every day, anxiety and all“ the softness in her voice makes you tear up again and this time you lean into her, practically holding on for dear life as she strokes your hair and kisses your head. „So, stop worrying about whether you are enough for me, because you, my little witch, are enough for me, alright? and I‘m not going anywhere“. You nod into her chest as you begin crying again, the walls finally tumbling down with each confession and reassuring of your girlfriend, finally feeling understood, your heart less heavy and your head feeling empty for the first time in weeks.

The two of you stay tangled in each others embrace, similar to the way your hearts are tangled in each other‘s chest, the connection between you stronger than ever before. Agatha asks questions, listening intently to your experience with this in the past, curious how you overcame it to begin with and offering her help. She offered to get you on your old medication again, offered to take you to the neccessary appointments and therapy, never forcing you, only wanting to get you the best help possible and what makes you comfortable. And you agreed, knowing there was no coming out of this on your own. And so, the two of you made a plan, Agatha knowing you hadn‘t left the house in a while and knowing this required just that. But the two of you spoke throughout the night, more confessions slipping from your lips and the usual tough woman telling you of similar struggles in her youth.

By the end of the night, the two of you are wrapped in each other‘s embrace in bed, you laying in her arms, listening to her soft breathing and her hands on your back, rubbing soothing circles and drawing patterns, knowing it would calm you. „Thank you Aggy“ you thank her eventually, feeling the exhaustion from the evening but also the comfort of her embrace. „Always, bunny“ she reassures before pressing a kiss to your cheek and pulling you a little closer. And so, for the first night in weeks, you manage to fall asleep without the racing thoughts, your heart beating out of your chest and your trembling hands. Tonight, you feel safe, knowing the truth was finally out there, knowing she wasn‘t going to leave. And Agatha wouldn‘t leave, not now and not in the future when the days would look so much brighter again and this would be a faint memory and reminder of some dark times. She was with you, forever and always.

[awkness]

Some Ben headcanons (the character from serial killer! platonic! yandere older brother story) bc I'm procrastinating writing the final chapter <3

Content Warnings: talks of murder, animal death, child abuse, manipulation, isolation, kidnapping, emotional dependency, and general yandere behavior

He would never admit it, but he wants your approval badly. So much of his life revolves around you, and to have you upset with him makes him feel terrible. Like soul crushingly terrible. He would do anything to get you to not be mad/upset with him

But at the same time, the fact that you hold so much power over him absolutely scares him. He loves you and they way you can bring out the more human parts of him, but hates how vulnerable you can make him feel. The very thought of you getting hurt/leaving him/or just plain not paying enough attention to him is enough to make his skin crawl

He copes with this by taking an incredible amount of control over your life, often through the use of manipulation. Suffering from paranoia and early signs of agoraphobia? It's sad to see you upset, but if it keeps you in the house, then it wouldn't hurt for him to enable it. After all, you can't leave him if you're always home! You want to go into the basement? That's just silly, you'll only spook yourself, besides, you have no business down there anyway. Leave all of that stuff to him. You want to make a new friend? Well, he won't ever say no directly, he may even encourage it. He'll even be there to comfort you when they inevitably die leave, reminding you that friends will come and go, be family is forever.

He will use force to keep you with him if necessary, but only as a last resort. So much of his identity is based on his concept of being a good brother, which was shaped in his early years to contrast his father's behavior. To him, it means being supportive, unconditionally loving, dependable, in control of his temper, and above all, non-violent to those he loves. Doing anything that breaks these rules of how a good brother should behave would send him down a spiral of self doubt and hate as he wonders if he's truly any different from his father, or if he's doomed to end up like him, a lonely bitter man with all his family hating him. This will usually end with him flying into a rage, which he'll take out on whatever poor victim he can pick up off the street. By the time he's done killing, dismembering, and disposing of his latest victim, he's cooled off enough to address the problem in a more rational manner

He had a very stereotypical start to his serial killing. He was (and still is) an outcast who had a difficult time emotionally connecting to his peers because he simply couldn't relate to them. One day, he killed a stray animal and realized he felt absolutely nothing over its death specifically, but felt panic over if this act of violence meant he was like his father or not. So, he did everything he could to keep himself from harming/murdering another living being. But an obsession with death/murder began growing in the back of his mind, especially as he was forced to deal with his father's abuse constantly. One day, it all reached a boiling point, and he decided to kill his father, and it was such a thrill for him. He decided that it was so exciting, that he should kill another. And then another. Until it became a habit. Whenever he felt the urge, he would go out at night when reader is asleep and pick someone he thought no one would miss to kill

The reason he's so attached to reader is because he was pretty much forced to raise them. In the beginning he wasn't really thrilled, and a lot of the raising in your early years was actually done by your mom. But she was pretty emotionally negligent, and your dad was a shit show, so that left only Ben for you to seek out for love and comfort. He would never admit it now, but that used to annoy him so much as a kid. But he also knew it was more work to leave you alone as you would cry for him to come and hold you and play with you, so it was easier to play along

As time went by, he began to notice how happy you got when he walked into a room, how excited you sounded when you said his name. He could do just about anything and little you would be over the moon, taking about how amazing he is. You were the only person in years to hug him and say I love you. He increasingly became dependent on you and you on him, becoming each other's sole force of familial love and emotional validation. So much of what he does is to get you to continue to look at him with the unquestioning and unwavering love like you did as a child

If you were to ever say you hate him, he would be distraught. To him, hearing that would be nothing short of pure, raw pain. It would be a blow to his self-esteem, and he would be scrambling to try and find a way back into your good graces, and there's very little he wouldn't do just to get your approval again, whether thats by giving you expensive gifts or manipulating you into apologizing. He would pretty much be acting like a kicked and lost puppy until you said you were sorry and told him you loved him again

If you were to ever leave, he would be absolutely devestated. One moment he's feeling this soul crushing emptiness that has him unable to function, then he's going into a blind rage because you're his sibling, how dare you leave him? Why would you betray him like that? Didn't he take care of you and love you? Wasn't he good enough for you? There will be times he'll be dissociating so badly he'll lose hours and not be able to remember them. And in between all that, he'll be hunting you down whenever he can. The only thing that could make him stop is if he were dead

Speaking of dead, if you ever died that would absolutely break him lol. Like his entire personality would be broken down and he would have to spend years painstakingly trying to pull himself back together and rebuild his concept of self in order to be half as functional as he is now. Buts that's only if he wants to try and move on from you, which I have my doubts on. Most likely it'll get to the point were he becomes so consumed by his grief and lost sense of self that he just says "fuck it" and kidnaps a look alike to take your place. Deep down he knows it isn't the same but at this point he's mostly managed to delude himself into believing that this is the same as having you around. Well, that is, until your look alike does something that doesn't align with his perception of you and he has a breakdown over it. He might end up killing the look alike in a blind rage, which brings a whole other level of pain and grief to the table (until he kidnaps another look alike and deludes himself into believing everything is fine again lol)

[fandomfluffandfuck]

thinkin’ about Bucky who is freshly released from HYDRA, still wary and a little bit feral. He doesn’t know how to manage himself and his new freedom, and neither does Steve.

But they both know that the only person they really feel comfortable around is each other.

Bucky curls tight into Steve at night, under blankets and as close to Steve as possible. Steve holds him like it’s his only job in the world, because to him it is. He holds Bucky’s waist and calls him a good boy, says he’s so loved and so safe. Bucky practically purrs, and responds in a litany of languages.

“Мой. Мой Стиви.” he’ll whisper, and Steve will press a kiss to his nose or forehead and Bucky will melt further into him.

He doesn’t go outside of the apartment much. Being tortured by a secret agency for 90 years will give anyone agoraphobia. So Bucky sticks to Steve’s side at all times, and Steve is more than happy to shower his sweet angel with all the love and affection he has in him.

So it’s not unusual when Steve will be working on the couch and Bucky will come up with a blanket draped over him and a tired look on his face. Steve will just set his work aside, open up his arms, and hold his perfect boy until he falls asleep. He’s had to learn a bit of Russian to be able to understand his baby, especially when he’s really tired.

“Можем ли мы посмотреть шоу о природе?” Bucky will ask, and even if it takes Steve a minute to understand, he’ll nod and turn on the nature documentary.

It’s progress when Steve comes home to find fresh cookies on the counter, and a proud Bucky sitting on the couch.

“Did you make these, Bucky?” Steve will smile, and Bucky will nod happily.

Steve will lean down and kiss him and Bucky will purr and smile brighter than Steve’s seen since he left HYDRA.

And it’s even more progress when Bucky calls Steve on a Wednesday afternoon, and starts rambling in quick Russian (or is it Ukrainian? Steve has a hard time telling sometimes) and Steve has to tell him to slow down.

That’s when Steve learns that Bucky went on a walk today with the service dog provided by SHIELD. All by himself. Steve quickly excuses himself from the building and runs home to shower his darling in praise and cuddles because he is so goddamn proud of him.

Bucky giggles and kisses back, and Steve is totally not crying because he’s getting his best guy back.

That’s all!! Just wanted to share my silly stucky thoughts with you!

Google translated, take with a grain of salt, lol:

"Мой. Мой Стиви." My, my Stevie "Можем ли мы посмотреть шоу о природе?" Can we watch a nature show?

S O B B I N G

Feral Bucky is the fucking worst because he rips my heart out but also the fucking best because there's just...

🤌🏻something about him🤌🏻

So damaged and broken yet so innocent and sweet, too. Burdened by so much but not by social norms. You know. You understand. Clearly.

Feral Bucky, who struggles with words but is especially physical and needy in that way, lives in the deepest parts of my soul. It worms its way into my brain and makes me feral. Words are hard, but touch is easy--when it's Steve, touch is easy.

This is beautiful. Thank you. I love this. I hold it very close to my chest.

[afreakingdork]

You Are My Sunshine, My Only Moonshine - Chapter 8

RotTMNT x Reader

What's with that call, Ump!? Leo's a bit of a pitch point in this week's chapter art by funneylizzie

Rated: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Michelangelo (TMNT)/Reader, Michelangelo (TMNT)/You, Donatello (TMNT)/Reader, Donatello (TMNT)/You

Warnings: POV Second Person, Gender Neutral Reader, Anxious Reader, Introverted Reader, Stuttering, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Romance, Love, Love Confessions, Falling In Love, Unrequited Love, Rejection, Aromantic Asexual Michelangelo (TMNT), Bisexual Donatello (TMNT), Pansexual Leonardo (TMNT), Lesbian Cassandra Jones | Foot Recruit, Demisexual April O'Neil (TMNT), Implied Cassandra Jones | Foot Recruit/April O'Neil/Sunita, Endgame Donatello (TMNT)/Reader, Romantic Love, Platonic Love, Panic Attacks, Sexuality Crisis, Agoraphobia, Social Anxiety, Happy Ending, Fluff

Synopsis:  You’ve lost most of your life to anxiety and fear. Now, in your late 20s, you are desperate to reclaim it and during one such outing you encounter the sun personified. With his and his similarly celestially inspired family, will you finally reach your goal or will you lose yourself along the way?

Also available on Ao3

First 💛 Previous

You were dying.

Not in a medical sense though if you were to be strapped into some type of machine, you imagined your charts would be something worthy of a medical journal. Your heart was pounding out of your chest, you felt lightheaded, your ears were ringing, your skin felt aflame, sweat dotted the back of your neck against the hairs that stood up there, and somehow amongst all that, you found time to do the wave with the rest of the crowd.

Returning to your seat, though your panic attack refused to join in, you shrank as much as you could. It meant squishing against an unrelenting mix of wood or plastic or whatever the bright bench was made of. The hat on your head did little as an additional layer of protection especially when Leo shot up from the row in front of you.

“ARE YOU EVEN WATCHING UMP!? DO US ALL A FAVOR AND SIGN UP FOR LASIK, YOU BLIND BAT!!!”

A baseball game.

Why had you ever agreed to come to a baseball game?

Because you said yes.

Because you were supposed to say yes.

Because that was the whole supposed point to bettering yourself.

You had to push yourself out of your comfort zone.

Mikey was supposed to help you. 

You should have known hitching your wagon to some great joy would come with karma. 

This was your pittance for your strange friendship agreement. 

Said man would also be your greatest ruin. 

As if on cue and despite yourself, you looked over at said man. Dressed up in way more merch than everyone else, he was his usual beaming ball of incandescent gas. He swam in so much memorabilia that it was hard to believe he could see the field and yet when Leo collapsed back into the seat in front of him, Mikey leaned forward to poignantly discuss whatever contested call you had missed.

Of your current lineup, Raph, Mikey and you had seats in one row while April, Leo, and Donnie had the next. The jockeying for position had been a violent one and you’d opted out of the drawn straws. It seemed poignant that you would accept whatever was left as that was how you acquired your ticket. The only reason you were even here was because Splinter had thrown out his back again and some as of yet unseen man named Draxum refused to accommodate what he apparently called silly human rituals.

Of which had you seated at an example of America’s greatest pastime and another family outing. New York, in her efforts to better embrace mutant kind, had offered up both discounted and specialty seating for mutants in a show of solidarity. At first and predictably, said tickets were highly scrutinized by the Hamato. They had bad blood with baseball stadiums and as such weren’t sure if the entire thing was a trap. In the end, being able to openly attend a game had won out. Thankfully, this didn’t seem like a ruse and so far it was what you assumed should occur during a baseball game. 

Not that you had ever been. 

Sporting events were meant to be seen through screens. 

Yet you wanted more.

You had to be selfish.

You had to rise above your station.

Look where greed got you.

You were having a panic attack and about to ruin everyone’s day. The Hamato finally had a chance to go out and be a part of life as they always deserved. Something you casually threw away on a daily basis. The insult to injury was not lost on you as you spiraled uselessly, but it was the drain you were rounding that threatened to swallow you up. The stakes only made the fall that much steeper. It was your body's fault.

Not something built for bus rides or capitalistic toils, your faulty neurons sent out the wrong chemicals at even worse times. Your adrenaline was confused. It wasn’t in its usual containment unit which you liked to imagine was a rickety old box from some old horror movie. The beast had, of course, escaped and went on a rampage that wasn’t its fault. It wasn’t meant to be there at all. It was meant to be stowed away somewhere safe. It wasn’t meant to be among screaming fans and thus it left your body in ruins with what you could only label as your worst case scenario.

You would soon pass out.

It’d be a thing because it always was. Doctors would understand and throw benzos at you, but for the layman, passing out was something dying people did. 

Good thing it felt exactly like that.

No, fear was the mind killer.

It was the little death.

You’d expire here in the stands and they’d do little more than memorialize you on a bench. 

No, you were avoiding that kind of talk. 

Focus.

What was the rest of the quote?

It was somewhere in your brain.

You could walk back from the ledge.

You had managed before with only minor catastrophizing.

In fact, you’d only actually passed out from panic attacks a handful of times in your life.

A doctor had once told you something.

What’s the worst that could happen?

So you passed out. 

So what?

You would wake up and be fine. 

You would be okay.

The stupid idiot probably hadn’t had a panic attack in his whole life.

No, that was mean.

You had wherewithal which was a good sign. Since panic attacks came from the brain, working through them always seemed like a war against one’s self. You had to be smarter, more clever, and flexible as the same trick to stop them never seemed to work twice. There were some consistencies; it was never good to focus on symptoms because that would mean you were ultimately prone. Given a momentary distraction and since mantras weren’t currently working, you thought maybe you could save yourself with memories. Just as the recollection of your doctor has inspired ire instead of further illness, you moved to comb through what had occurred most recently. Since the ballgame itself had caused your current state, you inched backwards to what had occurred just before it.

It wasn’t the best choice, but Raph had been memorable if nothing else.

As soon as you had entered the park, the oldest brother had diverted your course with his giant form. You tried to glance at the others only to find them wishing various forms of good luck as they got to go to your seats. It had taken you an alarming amount of time to remember Donnie’s warnings. You imagined that was the moon’s way to warn without pretense. It was how night was foreboding and it didn’t immediately illuminate how the ground could shake. It was Raph’s way as the solid earth to find a suitable area behind a beam for his discussion. It was just open enough that others would pass, but the privacy afforded said those walking by would do just that. As others went to get food, hit the restrooms, or find their seats, you were stuck as Raph gave you his shovel talk.  

It was highs and lows as his hero side was at obvious odds with the supposed necessity to strike fear into you. For each time he tried to warn you about hurting Mikey, he’d also backtrack by quickly adding that there would be no actual injuries at your expense. It made for an odd display that reminded you very much of their ninpo demonstration. They were heroes with the power’s of gods and yet they were also wisecracks and had insecurities the same as any other. They were both regular people and far beyond mere mortals. 

By the end, the content hadn’t necessarily struck fear into your heart, but the way Raph’s finger had pointed accusatorily into your chest spoke to more. You were treading dangerous waters and Raph had been the first to actually confirm it. You had long worried about that exact fact yourself, but you had only gotten Donnie and Mikey’s takes so far. Both were painfully bias and, though it was obvious Raph was as well, he had a different edge. For him, he’d been fussing over his super powered siblings his whole life and knew the faults better than anyone. 

He was a good big brother, you thought as he dotted off the conversation by putting his giant paw on your head. He rubbed affection there and airily said he had faith that you probably wouldn’t come to any bad end. It was there again, that odd assurance the Hamato all had in themselves, and you stewed on it as Raph led you to your seats. It was there that you had entered the killing floor where the first anxieties cropped up as the group was agitated because they’d missed the opening pitch due to Leo’s refusal to be the portal bus.

From there you’d stumbled step by step into a panic attack as the sour mood was compounded by the growing noise. It was as if being trapped in a room filling with water as the terrible cacophony drowned you. It spoke of the amount of people in the stands which was daunting enough. This was a special day; mutants and humans colored your stands as a means to represent the lovely tapestry of the city. A commingling of all types, this was the lifeblood and solidarity that American life touted but never achieved. You should have felt a sense of pride at having been a part of it.

All you felt was dismay that you were about to ruin it.

Each step was a threat of falling. Both metaphorically and physically, you imagined yourself tripping down the stairs. You would bust your head open and the leaking blood would light some planted naysayer. They would use you as their excuse that mutant’s were a threat to humanity. 

That might be a little too dramatic. 

It was far more likely that you’d knock over someone’s drink. It would then tumble in a chain reaction that would somehow cause a foam finger to fly out onto the field. There it would hit the bat boy who would strike the mascot who would then roll out onto the field and interrupt a great run. 

Mutant’s Ruin Big Leagues!

The headline would run for years.

You would be little more than a footnote. 

You were the stepping stone for hatred.

You’d pave the way no matter what.

You were spiraling.

Going through your memories had led you back to misery. 

The claws of anxiety were dug into your back and the symptoms were playing out yet again. Any movement at all was akin to a scalping. A player hit a ball for a crack that deafened your swimming ears before the contradictory roar of the crowd fried what was left of your nerves. Left battered and to drain in your seat, the other’s rallied and you were left burning under an exaggerated heat lamp. 

Your pocketful-of-sunshine partner had done very little. Mikey had not registered any of your distress though you couldn’t blame him. There were no obvious outward signs of anxiety until it was too late. From the outside you’d simply appear to faint. Only those studying you would notice how tight your jaw was or how your pupil shook. With Mikey’s helmet, flags, and sticks, there was no way he could see anything so small even if he were to check in.

He couldn’t know that trying to verbalize in this state made it worse. The labor of speech was yet another stressor. If this attack’s onset hadn’t been an immediate one, you might have been able to warn someone. Instead it had been a flash in the pain occurrence which meant you were using every ounce of your sanity to not succumb. 

You could stave this off.

You had before.

Raph whooped loud to announce his return from the concession stand. 

The others readied themselves. 

This day wasn’t for you. 

This was for them. 

You weren’t going to ruin it. 

You were still conscious.

You were still here.

“Finally!” Leo’s mouth slacked around his annoyance. “Dog me, bro!” He held up a hand as if to catch it.

Raph only stared where his arms were totally full. “No.”

“Not even!” April’s head popped out from behind Raph’s form. “C’mon and help pass everything out if you’re so eager.”

“Fine!!” Leo whined long and loud as he got up.

Food and drinks were distributed and you butted your arm against Mikey’s cup. Ice cold condensation one of the best mediators, you let it chill your arm as Raph’s load lightened. Feeling a little more present, you watched as Donnie received a wrapped sandwich which signaled the last of the snapper’s load.

“Where’s my hot dog?”

“Uh…” Raph strung out the sound looking to April who shrugged her shoulders, hands empty.

“My chili cheese dog!?” Leo spoke a little louder.

“It’s, uh… we totally ordered it, didn’t we, April!?”

“S-sure… did…” Her eyes darted away. “I coulda swore…”

“One request! No drink! No nothing! I ask for a hot dog, all beef, the classic, covered in musty chili from a burned pot and cheese so plastic it’s going to be killing a fish in the ocean long after I’m dead and gone!!!”

“Leo, it’s just a-” Mikey started up, chips falling from his square nacho container.

“Don’t!” Leo flew over his seat to slam a finger into Mikey’s lips. “Don’t you dare, of all people, besmirch the name of America’s single greatest ballpark food by saying ‘it’s just a hot dog.’”

“Could be boiled peanuts.” Donnie remarked casually, obviously relishing a chance to fuel the fire.

“Nuts?! Where?!” Raph ducked and knocked over his drink.

“None I’d let near you, Red King.” Donnie crooned. 

The cup hit the ground and dripped down toward Leo.

Leo screamed at the trickle which silenced several rows and sent your blood pressure through the roof.

No amount of cold cola was going to save you now.

Coming off his screech, Leo slammed a foot off onto the steps and made it clear he was going to storm off. “If you’re going to do something! You have to do it yourself, apparently!!”

Muttering a string of curses over how his family couldn’t do a single thing right, Leo led bowlegged fury up the stairs.

“Well, he’s been a peach tonight!” Raph turned, not looking the least bit guilty. “Damage control?”

“I’ll make it worse.” Donnie spoke, breezy.

April snatched his sandwich away.

Donnie glowered at her before spinning to Mikey. “Rock, paper, scissors, again.”

Mikey shook his head. “I actually got this one, I think. I know one of the chef’s and I think I can get Leo into a box. That’ll fix his mood right up.”

“That’s teamwork!” April cheered, throwing a hand out which Mikey high fived.

“Take this and cheer in my stead!” Mikey spun away from the maneuver and poured an avalanche of goods onto your form. Fumbling all of it and the food then placed on top, he was halfway up the stairs before he called back. “Mine is yours! Have fun!”

Dismay.

You looked over your shoulder with tears in your eyes.

The sweep returning to the field was an abysmal one.

Another scream tore through the crowd.

Raph nearly matched April’s volume. 

Loud.

Everything was too loud.

The ringing wouldn’t stop.

Food, colors, it swirled all too much in your lap.

It then drained. 

Away, away.

You mechanically dumped what you could into Mikey’s empty seat and watched your hands shake violently as you retreated.

You squeezed them to your chest.

It was too much.

Electric discharge went through your brain without proper release.

The cage wasn’t cracked, it was busted.

Without repair.

In a blink, you saw the vignette.

That was the final symptom.

You were about to pass out.

Body screaming amongst everything else, you swirled with the dizziness as fainting came on.

Silence encircled you.

You blinked slowly into something purple.

You could still see.

That didn’t make sense.

Your hearing always went after your vision. 

It always occurred the same way. 

There was a moment of dark, after your vision was cut, that preceded the memory loss of unconsciousness.

It shouldn’t be quiet yet. 

Something squeezed your cheeks.

You gasped a breath.

One that sucked greedily on wakefulness.

It was so blessedly quiet.

Your hands moved to your ears on instinct. 

You felt warmth under your fingertips, but not on your head. 

Either you did or didn’t have your sense of touch; the lopsided nature didn’t make sense. 

A small stroke of your pads said you were touching skin. 

There shouldn’t be anyone else’s on your head and confusion carried you to a sort of clarity.

Another squeeze.

It was a reminder to breathe. 

You were supposed to breathe.

You sucked a quaky one and caught hold of a wrist.

It was so close to your face that it didn’t make sense.

Then you saw eyes.

Or rather, you finally comprehended there was a pair close to yours.

Concern painted in dark depths, it took several blinks for you to register its owner.

Donnie had his hands around your head.

‘What are you doing?’ It felt like you mouthed the words because you couldn’t hear them.

You couldn’t hear anything.

‘Panic attack.’ Donnie enunciated slowly so you could catch the familiar mouth movements even though no sound reached you.

You nodded and squeezed your eyes shut to find tears dotting them.

When was the last time you blinked?

The burn said too long and you hunched forward.

Donnie came with you and prevented you from hitting the back of his seat.

Held steady, you felt weepy little whines in your throat and felt all the more pathetic.

You were having a panic attack.

Were.

You hadn’t passed out.

Blinking with recognition, exhaustion hit you.

Having run the equivalent of five marathons all while seated, you brought your gaze back up to him.

He waited there without judgment.

He held you, a steady current.

You caught his arms and squeezed.

He’d caught you at the precipice and you hadn’t gone over.

You gripped him in desperation as he felt like your only lifeline.

Twice now. 

Though the other was his own making, twice Donnie had held you together.

How did he feel being your handler?

How must he feel dealing with you?

You wondered how much guilt played a factor. 

You’d owe him at this rate. 

No matter what part he’d played then, he was your savior now and holding onto him felt like the only way for you to stay safe.

He was the only thing keeping you tethered to his plane.

Probably scratching at him with how pathetic you were, you felt him pull.

His raft keeping you afloat, you buoyed a little shake before you felt the warmth of his forehead hit yours.

A single contact point sent waves of heat throughout your body and with it a flood of a new kind of chemical.

One you didn’t currently have a name for, it was the coziness of being by a fire and warming of a bone deep chill.

You went a calculated slack against him and butted into his head to get a little more of those good feelings.

He allowed it and you settled into a soothing current.

His arms soon shifted, settling against the back of the seat separating the two of you and you wedged yourself between them as a ballast. Comfortable to a point minus the fact you very much wanted to sleep, you didn’t mourn much when he pulled his head away. Keeping his hands steady around you, you gave him a dopey expression for the solace he’d given you and he shook his head with a tiny smile in return.

He squeezed the sides of your head again and at first you thought it was admonishment, but you quickly felt there was something else there. His hands slid a little lower and you released your lock on him to explore what it was. Unable to move much further above his fingers, you brushed to find a band of metal. It revealed little and a twist within his palm found a circle encasing your ear. Whatever it was almost felt like headphones and with that thought you realized it was the goggles he always wore. 

You sent all your surprise toward him. 

You had no evidence of it, but the fact that you’d never seen him without them seemed to mean they were important. 

Except, for whatever reason, he’d placed them on your head. 

‘I’m sorry-!’

He pinched your cheek.

‘Ow!’

You earned another pinch.

Thinking maybe he didn’t want you to talk, you slicked your expression into a wounded one.

That got a bit of a smile and you decided he was a sadist as he tapped your left ear cover.

There was no sound and instead a vibration against your head. 

Unsure of what he wanted, you turned that direction and he curled his large hand around your ear before barely lifting the headset. Sound ate up the new real estate, but he quickly tucked his head beside yours to force it out. “Status?”

“Better?” You sounded raspy and you jolted a little now that you could hear yourself.

“Noise canceling.” He explained, his voice steady amongst the leaking sounds of a baseball game.

“Don’t… you need these?”

“Someone else needed them more.”

“How’d you know?” You rested your cheek against his.

He stiffened a little against you, but you weren’t sure if it was from the contact or the question.

Why was it so easy to be familiar with him?

You should be terrified of him. 

You should hate him. 

He seemingly appeared only during your worst moments. 

You were wrung out.

You would stop interacting with him like this another time. 

Now he was your life preserver. 

“I saw you. I noted the symptoms.” He hesitated once before adding, “I… know the feeling all too well…”

It was the content then.

You might not know the finer details, but from what the Hamato had saved the world from, you imagined the aftermath they dealt with was equally large.

“I’m sorry…” You mumbled back.

“If that’s for taking these then you know the repercussions.” The hand that was still cupping your face turned with fingers ready to snag your cheek. 

“No! The other thing! Def the other thing!”

“I never said.” You couldn’t see him, but you could feel his eyes narrow with suspicion. “Pity?”

“Understanding.” You rubbed your cheek against his to enforce your apology so he’d hopefully accept. “I’m sorry you know what this feels like.”

“I suppose I could say the same.” He ended his statement with a thoughtful hum.

“Thank you. You… you really saved me.”

“Statically speaking and based on your health records, a panic attack would not be lethal for you.”

“We really need to establish boundaries.” Your voice flattened out. 

“I gathered that information before.” He had a bit of a complaint to him. “As in when I was still evaluating your morality.” 

“Doesn’t make it okay. What if I got your doctor notes just because I thought you were a bad guy?”

“I’d applaud you for breaking into my system and try to fold you into my evil army.”

You pulled away to view him.

He shrugged nonchalantly, but it only further contested the great care he exhibited in making sure his hand still blocked out excessive noise.  

“How’d you notice? No one else did. Weren’t you watching the game?”

“I was until Leo threw his little temper tantrum.”

Donnie had watched Leo leave like everyone else. 

He was in front of you. 

He would have had to turn around. 

You would have been in his periphery.

You could only think of how very much that suited the moon.

Where the sun blasted its way through its stage, the moon was reflected light. It needed a source; it needed a certain level of attention. It also revealed. Where the sun poured out lumens indiscriminately, the moon carved out the dark. Seeking to reveal that which was hidden, it acted as an uncaring guiding light. A savior to many, its fickle nature turned the rest away.

You moved your hands over his and squeezed. “Thank you.”

“You’ve said that already.” He didn’t seem to care, exactly as you thought.

“Don’t like repetition?”

“I don’t like wasted time” He scoffed.

You jarred and his hands tightened like a wrench.

“Which this is not, to be clear! Do you understand?”

“No…?”

“I don’t need your thanks.” His brows came down, serious. “That’s superfluous. This.” He pressed your cheeks. “This I would do as long as necessary without a thought of complaint. There’s a difference. I’m saying it’s obvious.”

Your lids lowered.

You guessed it was.

“You missed the game…”

“Ah, yes. Missing how every few minutes the golden retriever mutant a few seats down will block my view and throw slobber around? Miss how Leo elbows me every time there’s a run? Miss the repulsive stickiness that seems to cling to this entire stadium and how no amount of hosing down will make me feel as though I’ve washed it off? Sure, I missed so much.”

You stared at him.

“That was sarcasm.” He felt the need to clarify. 

You laughed.

The sound came with a joyous feeling in your chest that you usually didn’t feel until after you’d slept off the effects of your panic attack.

Riding the high, your vision uncrinkled and you clipped the stunned expression on Donnie’s face.

Your lips dropping with a question, you might have teased him about it had something else broke through the barrier of Donnie’s hand. 

“Y/N!” Mikey yelled. 

You were released and the headphones dropped into place with Donnie only giving one quick squeeze to the left side.

The softshell returned to the game as if he’d never touched you.

“What happened? Are you okay?” Mikey kicked the junk in his seat out of the way to reach you.

You could hear him.

Glancing once at Donnie, you could also tell the rest of the stadium sounds were far quieter.

There must have been a setting he’d activated in that last touch.

Something that blocked out background noise.

“Y/N!!!” Mikey caught one of your hands where it was still hung in the air from the person you were once holding.

“I… I had a panic attack.” You explained in a voice that was probably too soft, but you weren’t sure how to modulate your volume with the headset dulling it yet.

Mikey’s crestfallen expression was quickly buoyed as he caught a glimpse of Donnie’s goggles. “So that’s what Donnie was doing! These help him a ton! Don!!” Mikey turned his joy on his brother.

Donnie might have stayed stubbornly away if Leo, who had also returned and was not sporting a mouth full of chili dog, hadn’t shoved an elbow into him. “Look at Dontron, over here! Being the hero all on his own!”

“Help was asked and I simply responded to an inquiry!” Donnie growled, clearly flicking his gaze to you in his periphery before it flew back to Leo.

You smiled.

“Are you alright now?” Mikey fussed, looking you over.

“Tired.” You admitted.

“We gotta put something on that glaring chrome dome!” Leo took off his hat and plopped it on Donnie’s head.

“Leo!” Donnie shrieked. “This has chili on it!!”

“A bonus!” Leo winked.

“Bonus this!” Donnie raised his fist, but Raph had the reach to catch it.

The older brother then quickly extracted the hat and smushed it and Leo back down into his respective seat. “How about we give Donnie a prize? I’m feeling kinda bad that Raph didn’t notice neither.”

“T-that’s okay…” Your hands came up.

“Downplay your reactions.” Donnie sneered at everyone but you. “You don’t feed panic attacks; you ignore them.”

“Then let’s enjoy the game!” April cheered and yanked Leo who splattered himself with more chili in the process.

“I suppose I wouldn’t say no to kettle corn however...” Donnie mumbled as he faced the field while craning a head to his arm for a lackluster display.

No one else reacted and you returned to find Mikey patiently smiling at you.

Had he not heard?

He was just as close.

You had a feeling it had something to do with the goggles.

“Can… can we get… kettle corn?” You asked Mikey.

“Of course! Maybe some water too? You haven’t had anything…”

“Yeah… sure…”

“Let’s go! Don’t worry if your legs are weak, I can lift four whole Raphs!”

“The projections don’t weigh as much as the original!” Raph chirped to annoy him.

Mikey pointedly ignored that and offered you his hand.

You took it. 

It had a certain warmth. 

You would try harder to tell Mikey next time. 

You couldn’t keep relying on Donnie to save the day. 

The purple brother invaded your thoughts and you tugged, ready to remove the goggles.

Donnie’s voice wafted into your ears. “Keep them.”

“But…” You stared at the back of his unmoving form

“Take care of them and return in one piece.”

You nodded.

“Y/N?”

“Huh?” You spoke absently. 

“Who are you talking to?” Mikey leaned into your vision.

You gave one final glance at Donnie before staring right into bright orange. “No one, let’s go.”

💛 NEXT 💛

Whoop thank you to my betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

[yandere-paramour]

All the recent Ata asks have spiralled my little bunny brain into coming up with like the perfect most pathetic wet cat useless lesbian darling for Atlanta and uuggghhhh if only I could wriiteeeee ;^;

Anyways I gots a totally rad little bunny question for your silly yandere’s >:3

How would they all fair with a darling who’s either a voluntary shut-in, or a shut-in due to outside circumstances? (Like chronic illness, agoraphobia, etc etc)

This question is very normal and not at all sparked because of anything going on with me nope nope my bones are pawfectly fine :3

-The nervous bunny in your ask bin

Oh, Noelle LOVES this. She loves her perfect Darling safely inside the apartment. She will absolutely spoil you with anything you desire, and anything you could possibly be interested in, she will ask a favor of Atalanta to get it to you. Like seriously, she will ask Ata to set up a Broadway musical in a secret warehouse just to please you. She loves staying at home with you; being safely in the house with her perfect Darling is the ideal scenario.

Atalanta doesn't mind it. If you are this way, her brain unconsciously associates you with her father and she thinks "oh... this one is fragile". She understands how to deal with a fragile Darling; remember she learned from the best. You will be treated like you are made of glass and every decision will be made to keep you as safe and healthy as possible. She won't even make you come to galas or public events with her if you're not comfortable. You will be for her eyes only💙.

Vivien is probably the worst with this. He's an energetic little guy. He doesn't like staying bored in the house; he wants to take his Darling out on the town and have fun with them. A Darling who couldn't come out and have fun with him would make it difficult for him and his hyperactive personality. He wouldn't say anything, he would just suffer in silence because his skin crawls when he's not doing something.

[tragedy-peanut-gallery]

do you have any headcanons for the maidenvault princesses?

I think I have a couple! Some of these might be gathered from previous headcanon posts so forgive me if I’m repeating myself again lol

Daena:

- canonically a daddy’s girl, definitely thought her father and brother were the coolest people alive as a kid though didn’t completely understand the trauma her dad was still grappling with until after his death

-loved her sisters and naerys but probably had a bit of a Not Like Other Girls goth phase when she was little, poor girl 💀

- tried to bond with the Last Dragon, but was forbidden from ever going into the dragonpit and never managed to succeed in sneaking in until after the dragon died. Probably named her horses dragon names like Meleys and Meraxes because she wanted to imagine she was riding one of them

- likely did consider running away entirely in the few times she broke out, but felt bad about abandoning her sisters and decided to stay for their sake (even tho she got kinda mad at them abt it)

- when it comes to her relationship with aegon…… okay ngl I do think she willingly slept with him, but was kinda coerced into doing so because he helped break her out and was pressured into feeling like she owed him

- Mentioned this before but she and Barba had a very horrible toxic frienemy-ship. Like, they hated each other, probably openly talked shit about one another but also shit-talked everyone else in the Maidenvault and stayed up all night talking about how much they fuckin hated it there

-She definitely loves Daemon cause he’s her baby boy but was bitter at being made pregnant to begin with. Her relationship with him was loving but really unhealthy

- Idk how she dies? I’m pretty sure she’s supposed to have died young, honestly I headcanon sometime in her late 20’s/ early 30’s but she gets a cool rad hot girl death like. Idk. Fighting a wolf. Or getting caught in a storm and getting shipwrecked

Rhaena:

- Okay so I think she might be the sister we know least about so she gets the most fanfic-y writing cause I’m getting silly with it. For starters, absolutely her mom’s favourite, probably took a lot after Daenaera in looks and was overall really cute and sweet as a kid

- That being said!! In her maidenvault era, she was absolutely deranged. Like, still a nice girl, but because she was weirdly okay with being trapped in the maidenvault to begin with I do think she started acting like a weirdo. Like, when Daena went all in refusing to admit who her baby daddy was Rhaena was saying shit like “well maybe the father should be gelded and thrown naked onto the sept to be beaten with sticks. In a holy way :)”

- Still Naerys’ favourite cousin and ngl Naerys was probably her favourite cousin too, but their views on the faith were a littleeeeee different. Because of how weird she gets I kinda like to think she was also just weird about her views and how the faith works. Thinks even a bad thought needs to be severely punished and probably did hurt herself just a littleee in the process which Naerys absolutely did not fuck with

- Developped agoraphobia post-maidenvault era. Started getting really anxious about just being outside so immediately went to be a septa just to close herself inside another holy-ish place because that’s kinda what she saw as her protection. Unhealthy coping mechanism queen <3

- Idk I don’t have much on her beyond that. Think she died pretty peacefully? Probably some flu when she was older

Elaena:

- Childhood friends with Daeron because she was a little too young to really be playmates with her sisters or brothers. I want to think they had a normal familial relationship as kids? But then again this is the Targs we’re talking about here soo…..

- When she originally cut her hair it was so bad and fucked up that she needed Daena and Rhaena both to help fix it. She ended up with a very short bowl cut that she eventually grew out a little, and learned to maintain her own hair because she got so embarrassed asking for help 😭

- Was genuinely in love with Alyn, though a bittttt too young and sheltered to really realize how fucked up it was and how their relationship might’ve probably definitely ruined his marriage to Baela. Maybeeee it’s for the best he went missing-

- As for the whole Viserys Plumm thing…. Okay, I gotta be honest I kinda doubt Aegon was really the dad here. Tbh that does lean into some fun little horror elements if he is, but let’s bfr here Eleana would neverrrr sleep with AEGON of all people willingly??? Especially by then cause there’s no doubt in my mind he was starting to look pretty gross

- Tbh I think she and Myriah initially kinda had a strained relationship because of her initial sorta weird familial relationship with Daeron when they were younger, but they slowly started to get along and respect each other as members of the government

- I also headcanon her to have been the one to suggest the Aerys/Aelinor match (as mentioned previously I think she might be Aelinor’s stepmom just cause it works better timeline-wise)

- Honestly, she lived to be so old that ngl I kinda think she might’ve straight up died from natural causes like- seventy is a legendary age in westeros girlie outlived everyoneeee in her generation! Hell she might’ve lived long enough to see Egg become king before kicking it!

[ambrossart]

I’m so sorry to clog up your notifications, but for some reason, Tumblr is refusing to let me comment 🙄 Think of this as a continuation of my comment from a few minutes ago 🤦‍♀️

About the boxes: right?! I’ve donated/given away/thrown away way too many things for there to still be this much stuff.

By the way, you should be so proud of yourself for going through all this moving with agoraphobia. I’ve only moved once and it’s caused a major strain. Going from Rhode Island to Tennessee is not an easy feat. If it helps to write out what’s going on, please keep us updated! Again, I’m sending soooo much rest your way!

I'm writing this from Tennessee!

Oh my god, that was the most stressful move of my life. My husband accidentally went through a moving broker and we 100% got scammed. They severely underquoted us (a common tactic), so when the movers showed up, the cost was more than double what was quoted. We were backed into a corner. Our options were to pay the extra cost or throw away all of our furniture. Thankfully, my parents loaned us some money, so we got our furniture loaded onto the truck (minus our dining room table, which we had already sacrificed), but now we have no idea when we're getting our furniture delivered—or if we're getting our furniture delivered. I hate moving so much. I wanna cry, but I'm too exhausted.

But my new apartment is gorgeous. Apart from the leaky sink (which should be fixed today) and the lack of furniture, it's incredible. Everything is brand new. There's so much space. The community is up in the hills, so it's got this quiet, woodsy vibe. Once we're settled, I know I'm gonna be really happy here.

And yeah, my mental health has definitely taken a hit with all this moving. My agoraphobia is triggered by major changes in environment. Actually, even minor changes will trigger it. During the drive here, for example, I was having mini panic attacks at every rest stop because I was scared I was gonna get lost on my way to the restroom (I know that sounds silly, but 🤷‍♀️). I have to Google every new place I visit so that I can see pictures of the inside and outside. If I could download a map, I would.

But you wouldn't know I'm struggling if you saw me. I go through great effort to hide it.

My lowest point was in college. My freshman year was fine because I had a roommate and would go out with her, but my sophomore year I was by myself, and I didn't leave my dorm for months, except to go to class (and I barely ever went to class either, but luckily I had very understanding professors who made accommodations for me). I also developed a slight ED during this time. I was too scared to go get food, so I wouldn't eat, except for like a candy bar out of the vending machine or something. I was like a little gremlin. I would come out at night, raid the vending machine, and then scurry back into my room before anyone could see me. That’s really embarrassing to admit, but it’s true. And I was losing weight! I was losing so much weight, and I was happy because I had always struggled with my weight, so… win-win, right? I didn’t have to face the terrifying world and I was finally skinny. What could possibly go wrong?

Well, one night I fainted in the shower, fell hard, slammed my head on the bathroom floor, lost conciousness, came to, saw my RA hovering over me, and finally realized I had a major problem.

Yeah, I was a hot mess in my late teens/early twenties.

I’m still a hot mess, but I’m doing a lot better. 😂

[luveline]

jade, can i ask you for some advice? how should i deal with the fear of being perceived? like i would like some friends on this website (idk how to do that but that’s another issue) but i am really bad at being vulnerable. the reason i only send you compliments through the anonymous feature is because i feel so uncomfortable being perceived by people.

i dont know if this makes any sense at all. like i like making friends and being friends but for that to happen people have to pay attention to me and notice me and i hate that so much.

maybe this is just me being silly and i’m confusing you but i thought i’d give it a chance anyway since i know you would’t judge me even if i make a fool of myself.

if you can’t make any sense of this post (and i really dont blame you if you cant) i just want you to know that i love you and your work.

my life is better because i know you exist <3

I mean for sure don’t worry about being silly or confusing me I really won’t judge you either way! as you know !!

I think it’s normal in that lots of people can probably relate to how you’re feeling right now but not normal in that it’s really unfortunate you feel that way, I’m sorry, but I think the want for human connection and then the fear of finding it is super common especially as our lives become more and more centred to the internet!! Or not just the internet but as we spend less time in places and more time at home and online. I ALSO think that everyone struggles with being vulnerable just because we’re programmed to NOT be vulnerable physically or emotionally!! so that’s not silly either!! How should you deal with it is a big question which is totally okay I’m just not sure I can answer it very well or completely but I will try. I think there’s a couple of facets to this. Like, how should YOU deal with it, is perhaps to think about how you are worth knowing already as you are without change, and maybe you’ve just been a little unlucky in that you’re scared of vulnerability, I’m sure there’s factors in your life that have affected how you are and I think perhaps it’s healthy to encourage you to try and break out of your shell to sort of push back that fear of being seen, but also realistically I know it’s so so hard to do, and I really think you’re perfect right now to know. but there’s something called rejection therapy you could look into if you’re interested, it’s good for people with anxiety and agoraphobia and rejection sensitivity! I think if you try very hard to keep your heart open to new people and change and for that to take time, you can be perceived and not totally hate it; sometimes it feels wrong to be looked at, but when the right people pay attention to you, they can do it in a way you won’t hate, at least in my experiences! I was always always so scared to be seen and to admit to what was wrong with me until I met my best friend ! so I guess maybe feel it out and don’t be afraid to move on but also, sometimes it’s good to try and ignore your fears! Be scared about being perceived because it’s torture but remember there’s big benefits to it (“the mortifying ordeal of being seen = the rewards of being known”)

[kingcunny]

For the Rhaenys takes over the Iron Throne Au: How we feeling about Rhaenys making Viserys a living trophy?? 👀 When she takes over the Iron throne she waits that all the nobles are in the great hall and forces Viserys to bend the knee to her, in front of the eyes of all the nobles, in front of Rhanyra. After that it just spirals down to Rhaenys taking her cousin to one side to another like her little purse dog. Perhaps some heavy jewels on Viserys' clothes that are both beatiful and heavy to do other thing than sit well besides the Queen (He secretely likes this but ssssh don't tell anyone)

THATS EXACTLY IN LINE WITH WHAT I WAS THINKING….. like after rhaenys takes kings landing she gathers viserys whole court in the throne room and drags him out infront of everyone including rhaenyra and makes him bend the knee to her (and maybe crown her too…..) which is just the ultimate betrayal to rhaenyra. who just doesnt understand why her father wont even Try and fight. doesnt get why viserys just Hands over his crown and more importantly hers too...

viserys developing a sort of agoraphobia after this and even though its absolutely heartbreaking for rhaenys to see her silly fun loving cousin become a nervous trembling shell of his former self, she still makes him accompany her to every public appearance to give the appearance of a ‘peaceful transfer of power’. the idea that its much harder for a rebellion to rise up in the name of a “willing” hostage. but because of his nerves she has to keep him right by her side so he doesnt freak out and cause a scene, cause the last thing she needs now is people saying viserys cruel cousin drove him to madness. so he ends up being by her side just as much if not more than corlys… he just becomes her pretty little arm candy… almost like Hes rhaenys wife-

and viserys cant admit it to anyone least of all himself that he Likes it… likes being told exactly what to say and what to do. Likes having his clothing picked out for him and all the Gifts rhaenys brings him. Likes not having to make the decisions anymore. Likes being a Pet. because he feels like hes betraying his father and grandfather and most importantly rhaenyra. who rhaenys is literally holding as her hostage.

rhaenys gifting viserys a bunch of heavy ornate jewelry to serve as a physical reminder of her hold over him... his metaphorical golden chains...

[gr1an]

someoje said to come to you over this so. CANNOT get over gemtho. they're literally so cute wtf

its so stupid because like there are a billion reasons why this doesn't work relating to their compatibility and personality and all that shit but at the same time like

???? Im just saying they'd be cute kissing each other in that tunnel and cuddling and etho is so laid back and serene and its the exact opposite of gems frantic energy and they kinda rub off on each other (figuratively) as in etho makes gem more chill when they're both just going about their day or exploring and when gem wants to Commit various felonies and crimes and end up in jail etho will go along with it because he will forever deny it but he imagines a life with her every night when he goes to sleep in his house and in bed in the dark apart they feel a part of them missing so they do their best to walk together in the light

h

ive just realised this is hardly a question. my interminable yapping will not cease but I do still want to get the point across so.... what makes u ship it :3333

i would actually really disagree with the lack of compatibility thing?

i think that gem is outgoing but still introverted, and she really loves talking to people and making a lot of friends, as well as helping out those friends! we see this with skizz’s terraforming, building the pathing infrastructure near cherry mountain, and with her letting etho take whatever he wants from her base! but at the same time that she is helpful, she is not a people pleaser. she’s assertive and funny. she goes up to her friends chests and takes stuff out bc “these are mine now actually” but she has the ability to do that bc she’s so charismatic and easy to love!

and this plays very well with etho’s general awkwardness to the point of nigh agoraphobia at some points. (i hc c!etho as selectively mute bc he just. doesn’t/can’t talk if he feels socially anxious. he accidentally built up a persona of cool and aloof despite being the wettest cat alive.) i am very new here but i think the first time they spoke to each other for an extended period of time was while gem was teaching him how to fight. and bc gem’s charisma comes from being adaptable to situations but still maintaining her personality, she was able to teach etho a lot (counter-critting, stopping sprinting in order to crit, crit combos) and they both very clearly enjoyed it a lot! etho and gem were laughing and talking basically the whole time, and i think that’s where their dynamic of mutually teasing each other as a way to show affection started. gem didn’t treat etho like someone on a pedestal they could never reach, and she also didn’t expect him to be amazing right away. she let him be fallible and we know that all of the ppl etho is close to do the same things. every duo etho is a part of has a strong dynamic of mutual teasing. him and bdubs, him and cleo, him and joel, and more recently him and tango. with tango though that relationship is pretty new and so a lot of their interactions are just focused on redstone.

and i don’t think gem is that feral or frantic? she gets very absorbed into her projects and she likes being silly with it. she also Commits to the Bit. but i don’t think, at least this season, she’s very off-the-wall. again, i’m new here, and i’ve only seen gem’s perspective of her s10 videos and the hide and seek one, so i am still new to her character/persona.

i think one reason ppl may think of her as feral is because of the way she interacts with specifically etho. and also the “geminislay” nickname. but she’s more than that nickname. in all of the clips of them in decked out, she is at max energy and is constantly punching/fighting etho, but they’re both giggling like schoolgirls the entire time. she doesn’t do that to other ppl though, so it’s not just her general personality. it’s her cute aggression instinct. she’s infatuated with etho so naturally her reactions to anything he does are going to be exaggerated and over the top. but she’s not always seized by that cute aggression instinct, she’s absolutely able to hang out with etho while at a lower level of intensity. etho though does sometimes instigate bc he also thinks she’s adorable. he hit her like 6 times as they dug the tunnel, i’m not convinced that all of those were accidental.

and etho isn’t laid back and serene, he’s earnest and silly and intelligent but also very uncomfortable in most social situations. the recent clip of him literally being a wet cat while asking beef for shulkers (he wants them nyeow!!) is a bit of an insight into how he is actually very silly! his little “oh schnappers” is also a good example. he just doesn’t always show it or show that he cares bc he doesn’t know how to do it in a way that isn’t awkward, and the feeling of awkwardness is like his least favorite feeling in the entire world.

sorry all that to say: they are incredibly compatible and i’m making them kiss. sillies.

[readymades2002]

tidying up is very difficult...i'm worried that i'm going to become a hoarder-type individual one day. i used to go through phases as a tween where i'd throw out everything i'dever done and scorched-earth all of it due to embarrassment and it's hard for me to remember things all that well without the physical thing and i remember very little about how i was as a kid now, besides "awful". but i also desperately want to get rid of things. there are so many useless things i'm holding onto for sentimentality's sake. yearbooks without signatures, kind notes i was always too afraid to read, cards from family members i never responded to, a LOT of little art projects family made for me to show i was loved that i never looked at because i didn't believe the love in it and it hurt to look at them but its so much EFFORT made for ME and i SHOULD appreciate it

its like...i dont know. there's all this proof i've collected of a life that could've been if i'd ever actually taken the opportunities offered to me but i didn't so its like. WHY DO I HAVE THESE i've gotta let go of the life i didn't live and build a new one instead of boohooing about my regrets and the years i lost to insecurity and agoraphobia and depression any time i try to get rid of stuff. "what if i forget one day i don't want to forget" YOU DIDN'T LIVE THESE LIVES there's nothing to remember! silly behavior!

[possiblyunhinged]

Being autistic, mentally ill and poor is very not ideal right now when lefties on the internet turn into raging dickheads during an election campaign... And I am a lefty.

I don't think I've ever felt this negative about everything... and I was diagnosed with clinical depression when I was 6.

I AM A FUN LITTLE GUY, OKAY?!

I've been in a four-day funk where I literally can't cope with external stimuli. I'm a boring person. I spend far too much of my life reading up on stuff, and usually, I'd be all over the election coverage, but I'm just done with everything...

Not in a 2008 emo way, in an I'm autistic, and my brain feels like it's on fire right now kind of way.

There are many threads of injustice weaving through everything right now, that my silly little ND can't cope anymore. Which I know sounds deeply petulant. I am a BABY... but I think for me, if a problem isn't solvable in my brain, then it just kind of sets fire to it on the way out.

It's been in England right now when you're working class, especially over the past three or four years. I'm not talking about losing your annual holiday, the last time I went abroad was when I was 10 years old. I have never been able to justify a holiday nor save because just keeping my head above water financially has been a fucking ballache.

Knowing that over 4 million families are living in poverty right now and having the lived experience of how that experience obliterated my childhood and indoctrinated my brain with a shame that has never left me absolutely breaks my heart.

I don't even have a quip to follow that.

I can't cope with those in power's complete lack of regard for what they have done. And when these children need help, whether that's psychological or otherwise, the likelihood is they'll just be stuck on a fucking waiting list.

I don't have space for rhetoric that generally only exists in University lectures for a reason... because it doesn't translate into real life with all of its complexities.

Unless it's a tactical vote, you can shove your Green Party where the sun doesn't shine. A blessing is that Labour will push for proportional voting and before the LaBoUr HaVe BaCkPeDaLlEd On EvErYtHiNg... wait and see, hey?

Let people feel a modicum of fucking hope for one second, because guess what... being someone who deals with suicidal ideation in a world so desperate to destroy people's hope is sehr stressig.

Beyond being a wretched bitch, I've pretty much been sick most of my life. And I have never found it more difficult to live with my brain.

I've existed in poverty since the age of 8. I'm 28 now. I don't have savings. I haven't worked for years because I had a nervous breakdown when I was 24 after being sexually assaulted. I tried CBT, beta-blockers, and a myriad of anti-depressants, guzzling on mushroom powders, but ultimately, I very much became a homebound agoraphobic once more.

I was diagnosed first with agoraphobia when I was 14.

I swear, I'm not an absolutely miserable cunt...

Well, not fully anyway.

Being reliant on the NHS for help my whole life has been nothing but a fucking nightmare. CAHMS was a joke, and it's only in recent years I started looking into the amount of people who were abused in that system. People didn't know what to do with a hyper anxious girl who could not simply slot in to a system of which worked for the majority. I next exceeded 20% attendance in a school year, despite the very helpful threats from social services.

I struggle to see how things have changed, frankly.

And I mention all of that to say that I've never felt more shame about my situation. I've never felt more scared about my future, especially when I am so reliant on my Mum, who is ageing like milk that's been left out on a patio in Portugal, and I don't know how I'm going to be able to help her as she gets older. My friend's lives are all falling into place, and mine has never felt so glum.

I was just curious to see if anything had indeed changed from when I was a child, and I saw a statistic of how more children are being submitted to A&E with self-harm injuries. And I can't help but ponder how shoving them on a waiting list for years and offering 6 sessions of CBT is going to help. I mean, two people I love attempted to take their own life and were just told to go back to their GP.

I don't feel all that positive right now.

I don't know why the fuck I think writing this on the internet is a good idea. However, people who play politics for a personality don't get that they make people who are struggling feel like debate fodder.

People are really fucking struggling, and if they get fucking 2% better, I'm sure most would take it. This incessant need to shit on anything that resembles some kind of hope is actually gross. And in fact, I think it's cruel.

Is 2% better the dream? No, obviously fucking not.

But am I going to fucking bite at the next middle-class person who goes on the internet or pops up on a TV panel and tells people who are struggling what to think? Yes.

I'm sharpening my teeth with an emery board as we speak.

Now, while we all sit on NHS waiting lists trying to convince ourselves that life just might one day get better, it'd be nice if more lefties on the internet would stop being such insufferable cunts.