#didnt even notice it either my therapist was the one to point it out to me

[sludgeguzzler]

I'm really proud of how far I've come with my mental health honestly. I used to think I'd slowly shrivel into myself getting worse and worse and worse until there wasn't any "me" left, but this year really showed me how distant that reality is to me. People are kind, and how much they love me is stronger than how much I hate myself, somehow. I have reasons to stay here now, outside of me and inside of me. I have goals, I have hobbies, I have likes and dislikes, I don't feel that much like an empty vessel anymore, and it's all thanks to the people around me and my own drive to find those things in my life. Life sucks and I'll probably pick up smoking at some point, but it's not all bad and I'm not the worst guy there is out there. Tomorrow's a new day, a new chance, yadda yadda

[kai-rio]

ggy song analysis III - the liar by the arcadian wild

im so normal about this song, the first time i heard it i immediately knew it was super uber ggy coded

(this is a long one so ill put my analysis under the cut)

by the way, i use greg and gregory as terms for different people - gregory for the character in sb, and greg for the persona we see in ggy

i sense theres trouble ahead, clear by the signs and warnings i think gregory would know that somethings up because i mean its probably pretty obvious if you have lots of gaps in your memory, or if he only gets control back for a little while after a long period of greg taking control, then he’d know thats weird too

that should tell where all blame is due, so why are they pointing at my head? this could be read as gregory not knowing the things greg’s done and being confused, if he notices vengeful tony & ellis then he wouldnt know why theyre vengeful

all have been led astray, we’ve all fallen short in some way literally a line in the game omg. but yeah i imagine during the short moments of control, gregory seeks comfort in vanessa and/or the other followers like finbarr or tape girl because he’d know theyre going through the same thing

please understand im ashamed he would feel guilty for greg’s actions once he actually remembers them or is told them by someone else

and i beg of you, please find your grace i think this reads as gregory trying to warn greg’s victims, like tony and ellis, but he’s unable to actually do anything

cause i'm not in a right state of mind, i just wish i had strength to admit it i doubt gregory would accept the idea of being one of the followers immediately and he might have fallen into a state of denial in a way

my stubborness will put up a fight, but i dont deserve to win it however, when he does accept it, he’d feel immense guilt, so much that he thinks he doesnt deserve to be forgiven despite how badly he wants it

we’re left in the dark, pondering our mistakes this could be gregory trying to piece together what happened during his amnesia gaps

in the light i swear i will deny it all i personally think that if gregory was to find out while he was still being controlled periodically, malhare might just try gaslight him into thinking otherwise to make him more compliant

cause i am the lying man, and i have made you my next victim ‘i am the lying man’ sounds like a title, maybe like greg confessing he’s ggy before he eliminates tony. the next victim obviously because the victims before were the therapists and i guess you could even count vanessa since he manipulates her - tony wouldnt be the last victim either, it probably continues on to ellis, crystal and maybe even cassie if gregory never escaped the control fully

oh i need you to see through my act, to tell me im wrong, to take off the mask again, this is about gregory trying to warn tony and ellis about his murderous counterpart, and it could be interpreted that taking off the dr. rabbit mask is a metaphor for freeing gregory, similar to how in the princess quest ending, our first sign that vanessa is free is that her mask has been abandoned

or else ill be left in the lie obviously this about still being trapped under the influence, but i also have another interpretation of this - i think that during the influence, gregory dissociated to an imaginary world where all the bad things didnt happen to cope with what he could remember, omori style

and ill decieve my way straight to demise i know everyone celebrates gregory for being like the first alive fnaf kid in the games but i honestly dont think thatll stay that way for long with how fnaf has a history of dead kids lol

i am the host of this hostility if the ‘wizards favourite apprentice’ line is true and not just greg pretending, then it would make sense for everything to revolve around him - he’s trusted enough to manipulate another follower and carry out a lot of murders so i would think its true. this probably means that gregory is under more surveillance than any of the other followers which would make it more difficult for him to escape

another interpretation of this is a ‘host’ that a parasite uses - this could imply that each of the reluctant followers personas’ arent specific to their body and could just inhabit a new one - this could be disproved by saying that each follower we’ve seen (vanny and greg) have made their names centered around their body’s original inhabitant, but then again that could just be them rubbing it in vanessa and gregory’s faces about their lack of control, or perhaps it was commanded by the mimic1 virus

im the master magician that makes you believe speaking of the mimic, if i remember correctly, there was a room in sb with a bunch of staff bots representing the afton family, and william was framed as a magician if sorts - the mimuc is supposedly mimicing afton, so it would make sense if it called itself a magician

im real, im not fake, but in reality im a lying man honestly i just think greg would be a fan of paradoxes and stuff like that, seeing how he led a trail of breadcrumbs for tony to follow

my lifes become this grand game of deception in gregs eyes, tony could be treating the whole ggy mystery like a game to be finished, a grand game because theres a high possibility of there being way more followers than we realise, already with 4 confirmed ones (vanny, greg, finbarr & tapegirl as far as i know)

my minds ignored all my hearts good intentions his mind because its mind control… yeah - this could also represent gregorys learnt behaviour of closing himself off from others to avoid them becoming another face on the missing posters despite only having goid intentions

we all feel this tension, we all have our own illusions the followers again, i imagine they all have their own ways of coping, perhaps by simply blocking everything out or pretending/dissasociating

[deltaruiner]

HI SORRY I TRY TO AVOID POSTS LIKE THESE SO IF U DONT WANNA SEE IT U DONT GOTTA UM- YEAH

anyway!!!

things tumblr thinks are relevant to me so far:

no surgery vision restoration, but specifically ONLY these ads are in my language (i have the maximum score on sight tests)

mobile game ads with so many oversaturated colours and addictive effects that i get a stroke by seeing them

random plastic shit from an unidentifiable site (no.)

guy whispering asmr listing the most non adhd specific things and calling it adhd symptoms (fun fact asmr and recorded whispering instantly makes me mad even WITHOUT combining)

outrageously distruptive makeup ads that CONSTANTLY zoom in and out and are so shameless about trying to psycologically manipulate me with what they found by advertising on tiktok that it makes me mad

some kinda fuckin. kokobot/betterhelp nightmare child claiming i should somehow entrust them with my mental health over my proffesional therapist???

those old ppl stockings thing but sold by. temu???? who would buy that kind of product from temu wtf

those merge game ads where they sexualise women, abuse women, or make fun of ugly women, occasionally in combination (also vague transphobia???)

note: not a single one of these even remotely interests me. Whats even the point like

financial investment of some sort?? i-

at least they didnt put out straight up porn ads? yet

did you all suddenly get more and worse ads too guys???? it is it really just me pls tell me aaaa

why did my tumblr suddenly become like this to me??? i had almost no ads before and all of them were either one specific climate science thing or things that are otherwise unintrusive enough to not notice. why. did i do something. did some app finally offload all of my misleading data points to them. what

sorry for being so mad suddenly moots sorryyyyy

if tumblr shows me one more horny mobile ad or tiktok format mental self care ad i will abandon the internet and adopt a monastic lifestyle i swear to god

[mueritos]

more about possible autism thoughts...

i didnt mention it til now but my last therapy appt went kind of weird. it was obvious that my therapist doesnt have a well rounded knowledge on autism, and her examples were of the “low functioning”, and she kept saying that I would be “high functioning” and therefore dont have autism/autistic traits. again, she was using very outdated terms and language that ive learned from autistic folks to be generally frowned upon. having functioning labels pushed on to me, along side not really getting a word in to what i was feeling, make me feel like there was no point in even trying to bring up the autistic traits i related to. im still struggling to understand myself and why now its all catching up to me, the anxiety and the sensory issues ive had, the social exhaustion and irritability...wouldn’t it have been more productive to talk about the reasons why i felt connected to autistic experiences rather than go through every way i dont? or, at the very least, why my therapist thinks I dont despite me feeling like the person i am in office is highly curated just for that social context.

sigh. either way, she gave me hw to keep track of my symptoms or things I notice to b more autistic but like. man that whole session really turned me off. now i dont even want to keep figuring this out with her if its just going to be weird. and im not even saying that i know for sure that i have autism! i just wanted a session that felt safe and welcoming to question myself based on my own experiences. and it just wasnt. which is weird because i never had an issue with her til now.

anyway. my classes started today but i didnt have any actual classes until tomorrow. and i like school, i really do, but now that im more aware of my sensory issues and my social needs, im starting to feel more anxiety than dread. like how loud will spaces be? will i let myself rock in public? will i have time to transition better between classes and social events? its just mostly anxiety about going outside and being seen. idk, it freaks me out. wear a mask and feel good that no ones looking at my face, or get stared at for wearing one when everyone else isnt. idk idk it all just sucks in my brain rn and maybe it wont be as bad. but i really dont like this limbo im in. I love being alone and i really crave it more than ever, but what if its more anxiety than social exhuastion? but i still get exhuasted even after being with people all day, especially if i dont have my low sensory hours. idk idk ughhh its just so frustrating trying to understand myself, especially because now i feel weird about going back to therapy. i wud appreciate any insight or tips for how to regulate better <3

[relaxxattack]

ayo! (wait this might be a bit of a jumpscare dishdks i apologize) i’m op of That Post and was wondering what your opinions were on the whole woobification thing? /gen

because it’s a Tiny Bit widespread within the dream apologists to sort of,, overdramatize stuff like l’manberg hurting him. like they’re not a 100% wrong but if you look at it subjectively you can see some sort of bias going into that sort of thing that makes the character’s mistreatment a bit more blatant and intentional which,, it really wasn’t? and there wasn’t That Much of it either. especially on twitter (tumblr is much better about it) people just jump to conclusions it seems and yeah. since you brought it up i was wondering if you wanted to write a bit about it from your perspective!

we’re kinda from different corners of the fandom but i still notice that once you are too attached to a character you start taking certain evidence and giving it more weight than it actually has. there’s a blurry line between “taking away a character’s humanity” and woobification and it’s extremely difficult to find a balance when said character shows pretty much nothing of his emotional life (e. g. putting up the intimidating villain act in front of only c!tommy, pretty much everything he does making rational sense with no emotional subtext) and a lot of the fandom instantly jumps to one side or the other while it’s like.

we don’t know by far enough to say “he’s traumatized” or “he isn’t traumatized” or “he was villainized and it hurt him” or “l’manberg didn’t affect him at all”

as a very analytical person people constantly jumping to conclusions grinds my gears, but that’s about it for my own view of the situation - sorry for the rambling.

in general i agree with you that both dehumanization and woobification is Bad and i really hope getting Actual Context sorts this out (e. g. him saying he was betrayed by his friends doesn’t mean it wasn’t partially his fault or that they were allowed to leave him, but it also shows that he did care about that happening. mentioning the cat doesn’t mean anything about what happened to c!tommy but it also shows that he did care about what happened to it. it’s just always interesting to get more information about the way he feels because he usually does a very good job at hiding it.) because man.

it’s like being stuck between a rock and a hard place, especially if you also are attached to the character and are expected to automatically agree with everything the people on “your side” say. it just ends up with everyone being mad and the character being mischaracterised overall.

oh wow hello! i didnt expect the op of the post to find me you’re right lol

and yes i agree! you seem to have a lot of very good thoughts tbh.

and by woobification, i mean exactly what you’ve already pointed out— the people who will say l’manberg purposely villainized dream, the people who will say wilbur faked his mental illness to manipulate dream, the people who are pretty much always talking about how badly dream was treated by people who were acting only fairly for themselves, usually.

for example people who act like dream was a perfect peacemaker before tommy showed up, or that tommy started most conflict. these are just actual lies that are told by c!dream himself to justify his abuse of tommy, and people fall for them incredibly easily because not a lot of people watched early dsmp and know that truthfully it was chaotic even then, and that dream was chaotic too. not to mention wilbur soot tried very hard to secede peacefully with l’manberg and dream jumped directly into war with no warning. and then people say he was forced into their war when, no, he started it.

theres also people who will say like, dream and sapnap for example are such good friends. i’m sure they cared for each other, but dream on multiple occasions has done horrible things to sapnap with no regard for his feelings (like leading fundy to sapnaps pets during the petwar, leading tommy to sapnaps pets during the other petwar and encouraging him to kill them, handing mars over to tommy to use as leverage against sapnap, etc). george he’s been less awful too but he certainly spoke over him and ignored his feelings enough that george felt hurt. he had places in his hall of attachments for beckerson and mars. george and sapnap were right to walk away from being treated like that.

there’s also what you just said here — “dream puts on a villain persona for tommy”— but honestly he acts like that around quite a few people (example: eret) and it’s usually when he’s revealing crucial info, which leads me and many others to believe that ‘persona’ is actually a more truthful version of him.

there’s the fact that he really isn’t safe for people to be around (or at least he wasn't before the prison) because he was planning to come up with ways to control every single person by stealing and threatening their attachments (some of which were not items but were living animals, or a real breathing person).

and then people will say dream was doing exile to enforce rules, or to keep the peace— when it’s very clear in canon it was a deliberate plan to get tommy on his own and into the prison. (from the way he was framing tommy for multiple crimes, and having sam set up the prison, and kidnapping tommy instead of correctly exiling him, all at the same time).

not even going into how he wants to kill and revive people for fun or make tommy immortal.

it’s just— ignoring all these actual facts and saying “oh he misses his friends, let’s get him some friends now” reminds me of like. when people would put flower crowns on pictures of serial killers. and then, there’s hardly anyone on the server who wasn’t subject to dream’s plans, so there’s absolutely no one i would be okay with him interacting with.

just remembered about the torture thing, and wow i still hate it so much. it’s someone’s sick revenge fantasy twisted into a way to get a manipulative villain sympathy, and it’s just gross to me on every account. i do think dream is traumatized-- just not by l’manberg, which was a conflict he started on his own terms. i would think l’manberg did affect him, because he was scared of losing control.

i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again— my ideal ending for dream would be for him to be sent far away from dsmp to an island full of therapy animals and super strong therapists who have never met him before. and for him to get a shit ton of therapy until he becomes a halfway normal person. and then eventually he could get integrated into society again; but a different one with new people. (although maybe dteam + bbh + puffy can visit him, they might still like him.)

none of the people on the server (who have all been affected by dream) should be burdened with befriending him or rehabilitating him— look how that turned out with sam! sam had a personal grudge towards dream and it ended with the poor dude being tortured every day; and sam himself falling into corruption and literally cutting off his boyfriends arm. like we can all see thats fucking awful right?

no one who was affected by dream should have to deal with him ever again. and contrary to popular belief, that includes a LOT more people then just tommy. dream isn’t just tommy’s antagonist, hes almost everybody’s.

the only person on the server who might also be able to stand to help dream is techno, and that’s from sheer lack of ability to give a shit. but techno is probably THE furthest thing from a good therapist there is lol, and dream needs better then that.

this kind of just ended up being a rant about my thoughts on c!dream, so im so sorry op. especially since it was probably negative for you. i hope you’re doing very well.

i guess in the end it’s true what you said— people will highlight or ignore things based on what characters they like, and it’s especially easy to do in this fandom, where half the content doesn’t even get watched and then we become a big echo chamber of half-truths.

considering dream has hurt so many of the characters i care about, i almost can’t understand how he could be someone’s favorite or comfort character— but he is nonetheless, and it would be unfair of me to be rude about that.

essentially it just bothers me to see someone who was a perpetrator of accurately portrayed abuse and manipulation (using both those words in their actual definitions, not just as random buzzwords lol) being given the flower crown edit effect. especially since he’s hurt the characters i care about a lot.

ANYWAY all of that being said (this got LONG im so sorry op) i am so so excited to get dream’s pov, because although i disagree with his actions strongly i actually find dream’s character very interesting and cool, and watching his POV is going to insanely fun. i cannot wait to see what theories get confirmed or denied

ALSO incase it wasn’t clear this is all /nm at you! you seem lovely and smart, and neither of us can help what characters we get attached to :]

[agentsoftie]

Chasing Cars ( C.M )

summary: you have a full on mental breakdown and penelope is there when you have it. her being the expressive person she is tells everyone leading for emily to get mad, and you to understand some feelings

a/n: this is a whole thing. so prepare yourself. also thanks elle and @anepiphany for helping out with this one!

warnings: mental breakdown, swearing (a lot of it), angry emily, heartbreak, basically angst

pairing: hotch x (fem) reader : emily x (fem) reader : rossi (platonic) x reader

song: chasing cars

tagging: @thestrawberrygirl, @marshmallowtraver, @ghostly-angelic, @criminalmindsmoodrn, @yesimaunicorn​

Remember to like and reblog!! And leave feedback!!

Today was not the day. Not the day to have fun, not the day to mess around, not the day to do anything, and yet here we were. Walking into the FBI, a place filled with bad things. And in that sense, enough horrible, terrible, and mortifying things to make an angel frown. This whole week was not going well for you. In fact, it was like your life just decided to turn on you when everything was going just your way. First, your dog died, then it was the 5th year anniversary of your brother’s tragic death. And not to mention your anxiety had been getting worse and worse ever since your best friends Emily’s death, and then resurrection. Oh and the fact that you’re 99% sure that the guy you love, hates you. Yeah, that doesn’t help your case either.

“You’re late.” You hear someone say in a very demeaning stern voice while you rush through the 2 glass doors that protect the outside world from all of the horrors. “Oh shit, sorry Hotch,” You murmur while quickly stumbling to your desk as if you were late for class. You spilt all your files on your desk and then plopped down in the chair as if it were nothing. You put down and debated on falling asleep, but then remembering that your boss would scold you more than he already has, and who would like that.

Penelope happened to be walking by your desk at this time. Everyone else was to busy to notice you, but she did. “Hey Y/N! Can you come with me real quick.” She said while tapping your desk. “What, I- yeah.” You say after jolting your head up and getting up. You followed her into her so-called “bat cave” until you asked why she called you in here. “So, why did you call me in here?” All she did was point to an extra chair and say sit, which you gladly did.

“You’ve been acting strange lately, almost like a different person. So spill.”

“Spill what?”

“Your feelings Y/N. Tell me everything. Because clearly no one cares enough to ask, except me of course. And it’s good to get your feeling out, no matter what they are. And that means I want you to lay everything on me. Make me your free therapist. Tell me all of your problems, all of them.”

You were trying to hold back your tears, you really were. “Penelope”' You said trying to catch your breath. “I just cant anymore. Everything is getting, so hard, and I just. I don’t know what to do. I can’t think straight anymore. And it’s like every day I’m failing, miserably. No matter how hard I try, or will ever try, Hotch will always resent me. I mean, he HATES me Penelope, HATES!! And you know what, I love him. I love it so much and he hates me and I just don’t know what to do. I try to be good enough for him, but everything I do is just, it’s not enough!”

At this point, you were balling. It was like a waterfall. “And did you know that my dog Honey dies 2 days ago? You didn’t do you. No one did! No one does! No pays and fucking attention to me, and I know that that’s pathetic but I am a human being too, I need attention and affection! And I understand that I shouldn’t get my personal life mixed up in work, but literally everyone fucking does it!! In some goddamn way, in some goddamn time, we’ve all fucking done it! But if I do it, I’m being a bad person, an attention seeker, a brat! I’m not a fucking brat Penelope! And you know what, I’m done with people treating me like a fucking doormat! Just because I smile people assume they can treat me like absolute garbage! LIke trash! And you know what! I don’t even know why I smile! I’m not fucking happy! I haven’t been happy for a while! You see this smile, ha, yeah its fucking fake. It’s all fucking fake! Ive gotten at a point where this stupid fucking smile is a reflex, I don’t want it to be a fucking reflex, Penelope!”

At this point, you didn’t even have full control over what you were saying. It was all just coming out, and you just couldn’t stop. “God and my best fucking friend died! Haha, and then she came fucking back like it was nothing! And of course, I didn’t say anything, but oh my fucking god! People just leave, and when they come back, they act like it's nothing. Did you know that today is the 5th year anniversary of my brother’s death? Yeah, this is why I’m late. BUt did Hotch give me a second to explain that I was at his grave, no, he fucking did-”

You were cut off by the door opening. “Hey! We heard some yelling here, is everything okay?” JJ says while looking at the mess that is you.

“Uh, yeah,” You say while wiping all the tears off your face. “We were, just um watching The Notebook, and well you know,”

“Oh okay,” She says in a sense of relief, “Also Y/N, everyone is asking for you to bring some coffee since we ran out of it here.”

“Uh, yeah okay.” You get up and leave like nothing just happened. Penelope was still processing everything you said so she was not paying attention to the fact that you were gone. You quickly grab your coat, purse, and keys and head out.

Penelope was still in shock due to everything that just happened. “Penelope, are you okay?” JJ asks.

“Yes, but no! But yes, ahh, okay. You know what, just get everyone in the briefing room.”

“We have a case? Shouldn’t we wait for Y/N to come back?”

“Yes, well no. God! Just get everyone in there, I have some very important news.”

“Babygirl, why are we here?” Derek says after everyone’s in the briefing room.

“Yeah Garcia, if this isn’t a case, you guys need to get back to work,” Hotch says.

“Oh but this is a case. A very severe one. How much time do we have?” she says while looking at the clock, “Okay 12 minutes should be enough.”

“Enough for what?” Spencer asked, trying to understand what was going on.

“Hush my sweet child let me talk. Uh, okay how does one do this?”

“Do what?” Emily yells.

“Let me think Emily! Okay, our dear friend and teammate Y/N, has been going through some shit and you guys, we, us, are not helping. The poor girl goes through shit every day and we don’t see a thing. Some profilers you all are. And I mean Emily, you’re her best friend! You should have known this!”

“Babygirl calm down. Why are you getting so mad?” Derek asks.

“I’m not mad! Well, I am, but you guys are not seeing the main point here! We’ve all been treating this poor helpless innocent girl like crap! And she can’t even go to her boss because he hates her!”

“I don’t hate Y/N!” Hotch yells trying to defend himself.

“You kinda do Hotch,” Spencer says, causing Hotch to give him a death wish.

“You guys!! I’m scared of her! She needs us! Her dog died yesterday and her brother's death anniversary is today! She’s hurting and we’re making her get coffee for god sakes!! And speaking of coffee, she’s most likely getting out of her car right now, so everyone acts normal, but not. Now scatter!” Penelope says while urging her hands. And with that everyone was out.

Everyone went back to their offices except for Rossi, he went into Hotch’s office. “Why didn’t you say anything?” Hotch yells at him. “Because that’s something for you to tell everyone. That’s something you tell her Aaron! You’re gonna have to accept the fact that you feel this was sooner or later, and I’m hoping sooner. And when you do, you’re going to have to tell her. And then apologize for all the shit you’ve done to her, and then if she wants, comfort her. And with that, she’s here. So for god sakes tell her.”

“But what if she says the opposite?” Hotch asks while Rossi is halfway out the door.

“You deal with it, and move on,”

“Here you all go!” You say while walking up to them. “One hot chocolate for Spencer. An iced coffee for miss Garcia and Jareau. One pumpkin spice latte for Mr. Clean, and a-” You were cut off by a very mad Emily. “Y/N we need to talk. Privately.” You couldn't tell why she was mad, but she was definitely pissed about something. Honestly everyone was off but you just couldn't tell why.

You both walked into the briefing room and before you could say anything she yelled at you, well not yell, but expressed loudly. “Why!” She asked. You were confused, as anyone would be. “What?” You answered not understanding anything. “Why did you tell everything to Garcia! Am I not good enough for you! Am I not your friend anymore? Because I swear Y/N if that's the case then I don't know why I even came back.Because you what, when i\I came back I thought that you out of everyone would trust me.”

“Oh really! Emily, you left! You were gone! And didn’t even bother to tell me, your best fucking friend!!”

“Okay, you know what Y/N, yes I was gone! But I did for my safety! I did it four all of our safety!”

“Emily, we could have helped you! You didnt have to go halfway around the fucking world!”

“No Y/N you don't understand, and never will!! But you what, all that time that I was in France I couldn't stop thinking about you! About what you were doing! About how you were! And you know what I still feel that way! I want to be with you! You’re my best fucking friend! But you don't tell me SHIT!! WHY!! You're gonna tell Penelope but no me!! Me!! And Penelope out of all people!! Y/N if you’re hurting you should have come to me!! I've been through this!! I am going through this!!”

“Why cant you realize that you can fucking come to me!!! I mean did do something fuking wrong?! Y/N, I'm asking you. “ You didn’t answer, how were you supposed to. You were still taking everything in and honestly none of it made sense. Was she mad, was she concerned. All you could tell was that there were tears running down your face and you didn't know how to stop it. You tried to breathe but you just couldn’t. “Y/N! God, whatever. Just know that you probably hate me right now, but I'll always be there for you.”

And with that she was out. She walked out of the room without looking back, or maybe she did, you just didn't see. This was too complicated for you to understand. Ha, and you were a profiler for god sakes. You wanted to run out but before you could you heard the door open. You didn’t look up because you were too ashamed to face Emily with all the tears running down your face. But suddenly you felt an arm on your shoulder. You turned around to see that shadow of a tall man that glared over you.

“Hotch?” You asked quietly. “Y/N,” he said looking down at you. You still hadn’t faced him in the eye. You couldn't, you were a mess and you couldn't let him of all people see you like this. Although when you think about it, if you like him, shouldn't he see you like this. You being the real, true, authentic Y/N. “Hotch, I, can explain.” You say while snifiling, his hands still on you. “No, let me explain.”

“Ever since the day you came here, I’ve been a terrible friend, boss, and all around human being. I’ve treated you like a child, and you're not one. You’re an exceptional agent and I'm so proud and grateful to have you on my team. And the fact that i keep making your life probably miserable, yeah, ha, im so fucking sorry Y/N. It’s just that, I'm scared. Scared of truly accepting my feelings of you. After Haley, I just can’t risk it. And that means I cant have feelings for you.”

“So, I thought that if I treated you worse then I wouldn't feel for you, but I was wrong. You are an amazing, brilliant, gorgeous woman who I just can't not not. The way you act with Jack just, it just makes me wanna marry you! But I was too scared to tell you. And I regret that everyday. I guess what I am trying to say is that I love you and that I’m sorry for everything I’ve put you through.”

Did your boss, Hotch, just say that he loves you. Were you dreaming, was this real? Did you love him back? Of course, I mean you've been pining over him since you came to the BAU, right. He stopped talking for a few seconds, but then he did something unspeakable. He kissed you. And it was in this moment, when you truly realized. You didn’t love Aaron Hotchner. You loved someone else. Have you ever even loved him? You didn’t know. Maybe, the only reason you liked him was because he, well, there was something about him. But we will never know, or at least for now that is.

You pulled away after realizing that you weren’t kissing back. He didn’t seem to notice that small detail. “Hotch, no I can't.” You mutter while looking at him. “What do you mean?” He says confused. “I mean, you can't waltz in here saying that you love me and you’re sorry for the way you treated me and expect everything to be fine. Everything you did, everything you said, all those time and days, yeah they hurt. And you just can't say those 3 words and expect everything to be okay!” You hadn't realized it, but his hands weren't on you anymore, instead they were slowly retracting from you.

“That’s not how this works okay, you really hurt me. And I loved you. If you told me that you had any interest in me in a non-planonical way. I would have said yes. But instead you chose to hurt me and I can’t really forgive you for that.”

“Y/N I… I understand, I'm sorry. I truly am, I hope you can forgive me.” He says while in shock.

“I hope I can too Hotch.” And then suddenly you were out the door. Running down the stairs as if your life depended on it. “Where are you going!” Hotch yelled from the door of the briefing room. “Somewhere over the rainbow!” You said while quickly grabbing your coat from your desk. You realized that she would most likely be getting in her car right now since she wasn't at her desk. So with that knowledge, you sprinted down the stairs since you thought it would be faster, it wasn't.

And look, there she was. Right by her car trying to find the key to unlock it. “Emily!” You yelled while running over to her as fast as your now jelly legs could carry you. “Emily, wait up!!” She heard you this time and looked up to see you running over to her. “Y/N, is everything okay?” She was cut off with a kiss. A soft, tender, sweet kiss, right on the lips. It wasn't too big, but it was big enough. You pulled apart when you realized she wasn't kissing back.

“Y/N I-”

“No, wait, let me. Emily it took me so long to finally understand. Understand that it was you along. You were always there for me when I needed you the most, and I was stupid for not telling you, or realizing. You’re the one who’s opinion I care about the most, not Hotch! You’re the one i wanna see first when i get hurt, not Hotch! You’re the one I wanna see every morning I wake up, not Hotch!! I wanna be with you Em. Because you make me happy like that. You make me wanna be a better person everyday and I need that in my life! I need you in my fucking life Emily! And so I love you! I love you! I fucking love you Emily!”

“Y/N I- what are you saying?”

“I'm saying that I love you! I love you so much! I love you the way Romeo loved Juliet and the way the sun loves the moon!”

“Y/N, I love you too. But not in that way. Um, I'm dating JJ.”

Your heart dropped. You couldn't breathe. All the air was still there, but you couldn't take any of it in without dying. Was this real. For how long? Was it really too late? Why would this happen? Was everything not enough? After everything you had been through, did you really need this. And why did it have to be this? Why couldn't you just be happy for once? Just once!

“Oh,” You say not sure what to say. “That’s um, that's great Em. I’m really happy for you.” And with that, you started heading to the building. “Y/N wait!” She yelled. You just turned around and smiled a half assed smile, but she didn't have to know that. She probably did. How could you have not known. I mean you were a profile for god sakes! That was your job! This is what you do and you can’t even figure shit like this out!

You walked with a moping look and the personality of a dead person. You kept your head down as you dragged your legs up into the BAU. Keeping your head down fearing from someone who might accidentally see your waterfall of tears. You made your way up into the only place where you knew you could go for a hug and comfort. Well, besides the batcave. Rossi’s office. The door was open so you made your way in and immediately shut it causing him to look up in fright.

“Y/N you scared me. Are you okay?” He said while getting up as a reaction of seeing your crying face.

“No Rossi, I'm not.” You say while snifiling. He sat you down on his couch and placed a blanket over you. “What happened my dolce colomba?” The tears started spilling again when you told him everything. You couldn't help but not to. It was impossible. “My sweet sweet child, this looks hard. This is hard. But I want you to always know that I am always gonna be here for you. No matter what. I love you. We all love you.”

“Rossi, what do I do?”

“You just live. Try and see the good in every moment. For instance right now, youre talking with me instead of working on some boring paperwork so think about that. Think about your brother and all the memories you shared. But for now, just live because before you know it all of this will be over and you'll wonder where everything went. So no matter how just live in the moment. Even if it's hard, do it.”

“Living is hard.”

“I know mia dolce colomba, I know. But we do it anyway, It is not like we have a choice. But just alway rember that I will always be here for you. So if you ever wanna go chasing cars, make sure to call me.”

[mavspeed]

First Line Meme

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line, then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

Hey @applesfallingfromblondehair, thanks for the tag love!! likewise i dont usually do this but this feels interesting so lets see if my ass has improved over the last few stories lmfkjgjk

also this will prob be a mix of xmcu fic + kingsman fic bc i think i have a more or less equal number of fics written for both

1.

The first time Charles meets Lucifer Morningstar, actual devil from hell, ruler of the underworld, fallen son of the lord above and god knows what else, it had been after Erik had been sentenced to life imprisonment in the highest security cell in the Pentagon. 

- this is from a professor and a devil walk into a bar, which is kinda a crossover rarepair fic that rose out of me and mutuals on twitter discussing tom ellis and james mcavoy being roommates and kinda... devolved from there. i am proud of this one lmfnjgkj

2.

“Are you okay, Professor?” Hank asks quietly.

Charles blinks. He supposes it’s a valid question. He’s been in a bit of a funk the past few days- scratch that actually, the past few years. He’s just lost so much- his father, and then his mother’s love, and then Raven and Erik and Sean and countless others. Building a school, gaining students he loved to teach and nurture hadn’t helped him in the slightest, and he’s as lost as he ever was, wandering the halls of a drafty mansion alone, feeling like he’s been stranded at sea even whilst surrounded by people.

- from in the belly of the beast, which again came out of me wondering what would have happened if fox had gone w their original plan and charles had been that last horseman instead of erik. this story will prob gain a sequel... sometime in the near future when im not too bogged down by current wips

3. 

The Xavier family hall of the deceased- because of course they’re weird enough to have a cemetery- is full of rows upon rows of holograms. Charles is four and gets bored of his father crying over his mother’s hologram, so he toddles over to the other rows. Unfamiliar names, all of them- Charles is young, and he doesn’t understand death. He doesn’t even know who his mother is, who’d died at childbirth and left him with a father still at a loss when it came to bringing up a kid.

- from tequila on a spaceship, the sequel to a fic that still has some people angry at me i think. this fic never did gain as much traction as the first one but im still proud of it esp since it discusses certain themes of reincarnation that ive always wanted to see explored for myself in reincarnation aus (and i only ever saw it in danveresque’s reincarnation au)

4.

There are cork boards covering every inch of the wall. Red strings, photographs, conspiracy threads, everything. Raven takes it in, swallowing, noticing the picture in the middle.

It’s one of Charles, when he’d been in university. His final year- he'd just been done presenting his year- end project, his fringe a tumbled mess and a bright smile on his lips. Erik had taken the picture, Charles scurrying to his side once he’d been done and demanding to look at the image, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth. He looks like how Raven had always imagined him to be.

“He wouldn’t want this,” she finally says, turning to look at Erik.

- from tequila on a beach, the first fic to the fic above. this fic is v special to me because i actually wrote this on a spiral after having a very tough visit with one of my parents in the hospital after a surgery for organ removal to prevent the onset of cancer. its simpler than my other fics yet i think more powerful because of what happens. also i think the first time i killed charles off lol (spoiler alert). also idk if ppl were aware of this but this is called tequila on a beach precisely bc charles and erik were tipsy from tequila at a frat party and then went to a beach. its the way they first met (and will continue to meet for all their next lives)

5. 

Erik doesn’t know how it all started. Maybe it was when his insane sergeant had started rambling about imaginary cities, treasures of gold and cursed incantations. Maybe it was when trickles of rumours had started pouring down about the higher ups wanting to investigate unfound territory, disregard the Egyptian government’s feelings on the matter, and put a previously unfound myth on the map for all the world to see. Or maybe, Erik thinks, it was when archaeologist Klaus Schmidt put a bullet through his mother’s head and he ended up going to America armed with dual citizenship and the sole intent of wanting to drive a coin directly between Schmidt’s eyes, joining a division of the American military focused solely on guarding archaeological digs- more importantly, in Egypt, where Schmidt’s interest had shifted.

- from courting the end of the world, another one i’m just insanely proud of! this is the first time i’ve ever attempted a multichapter movie au and it actually managed to work pretty well, i at least haven’t run out of inspiration for it yet lmfjgjg. also erik as himbo rick connell... very rent free in my head

6. 

The day after they murder Shaw and leave his house of horrors, Erik crosses the Canadian border with Charles across his back. Charles had started getting tired while they’d been walking, stumbling and nearly tripping until Erik had forced him to get on his back, ignoring Charles’ protests.

The blood’s seeping out steadily from Charles’ nose, staining his shirt and soaking it through. It’s been leaking on and off, and the effects are already obvious in the dark circles beneath Charles’ eyes. Any more, and Erik knows they’ll have to find him a doctor. He hopes the nearest town in Canada has one that would be willing to treat them.

- from a world built for two. i actually dk where the inspiration for this came from, i think i was once again on a depressive spiral and wanted to break my comfort characters into pieces and put them together again. this also deals with codependency and unhealthy coping mechanisms as a result of trauma which i showed as sweet in the fic but i would def not recommend in real life. pls if u relate to either charles or erik in this go see a therapist

7. 

The call comes in the afternoon, an hour before Charles is supposed to teach his Intro to Genetics class. Frowning, Charles abandons the game of Candy Crush he’d admittedly been playing rather badly and picks it up. “Charles sp-”

“We need you, Prof,” Kitty says desperately into the phone. “He’s been in a temper all morning, and then Alex’s reports missed out a whole subsection, so he’s fired the entire marketing team! Please, Professor, you have to come immediately!”

- from and we can be pirates. i wrote this in like 4 seconds for my friend who wanted professor charles and ceo erik and actually did not expect this to gain the attention it did... its always the fics u write in like 4 seconds lmfjggj. a sequel for this Is coming too probably at some point in the very far future

8. 

Charles Xavier can admit as he sits across from Essex, hands cuffed to the desk, that in hindsight, this had perhaps not been one of his better ideas.

He refuses to admit it as he controls Erik’s mind, preventing him from lashing out and making him close his eyes to the nightmare unfolding in front of him. He refuses to admit it as he gets shoved into the back of a black pickup truck, and the butt of a gun is smashed across his forehead hard enough to knock him out cold for a few hours. He refuses to admit it when he wakes up what appears to be hours later in a cold interrogation room, hands cuffed to the table in front of him, with a suppression collar rendering his mind dark and almost achingly silent.

- from from the land of gods (bring me home). i’ve been struggling w this fic a lot (it didnt come as easily to me as the first one did) but its getting there. also i put charles through hell in this rip sorry mister xavier

9.

In the aftermath, both of them stand at the border of the mansion. The air feels frigid, slicing into Raven’s lungs like a thousand paper cuts. “Charles, please,” she begs, heart in her throat and voice hoarse. “He wouldn’t want you to be like this. He wouldn’t want you to do this. It’s not too late, you can come back.”

Charles gazes back, a brick wall. He hasn’t even cleaned up, still in that damnable yellow and blue suit with blood drying in the corners of his mouth, the bridge of his nose. There’s nothing in his eyes- blank, almost see through. He looks as if he’s a mere shade, a ghost lounging about where he once was. Raven knows better.

“I will raze the world to the ground,” he finally says, his voice free of any inflection, “and when I’m done, no one will be left standing. Not you, and certainly not me.”

- from where all the poets went to die, a dark fic based on what would have happened if moira had killed erik with the bullets. its the first time ive written dark charles and it was v fun if im being honest

10. 

Charles is a light sleeper. It’s a trait that stays with him- all the way from his father and the tests to taking care of his mother to Cain Marko and his fists to Cuba and then now, the dust of Washington settling over him and making the waking world lie an inch beyond his eyelids. It therefore stands to reason that the second the windowsill creaks he’s up in a shot, hoisting himself up and lashing out with his telepathy instantly.

That’s not a trait that had stayed with him. That’s a newly formed trait, bitter and bold, carved into existence by Cuba by his students disappearing one by one in Vietnam by the letters that announce Sean’s death in black unfriendly print by-

The tendrils of his telepathy forged cold and distant meet a barrier and recoil, stunned. He focuses his eyes and then widens them, staring at Erik who stares back, hidden beneath that infernal muddied magenta helmet of his. They stare at each other for a moment before Erik clears his throat.

- from in the valley of kings (you will come home). my first ever cherik fic! im actually also proud of this one even if i ended it horribly and half my mutuals refuse to read it bc of how it ended LMFJGJGJ. i cant believe this was supposed to be a funny and cute kid fic and then i turned it into an angst ridden mess. also leo is actually an oc whose adult version is fancasted as charlie rowe by me and another mutual on twitter and im v proud that readers are willing to die for the baby

11. 

Mike has to google it, finding a crafts shop nestled into the corner of the street right smack in the middle of Louisiana, past a long and winding dirt road and the crumbling farmhouses relics of a time long past. The air is hot, humid, sticking to the back of his neck like an unwieldy parasite as he pushes the door of the shop open to the sound of the bell tinkling above.

He finds the origami paper quickly enough and has a momentary breakdown about what Bill’s favourite colour even is- he had never thought to ask him. Twenty seven years of following every single footstep of his like a dedicated, most definitely creepy stalker, three months of more than a few states traversed with Bill’s laughter now echoing in his ears like a shadow that trails after him, and this is what stumps him. It takes ten minutes, but he finally settles on light green.

- my first and last entry into the IT fandom bc i love these two but to be very fair there isn’t much content out there for him (and twitter content actually intimidates me lmfjgjjg) a thousand paper cranes never got much traction either but i suspect its bc i was horrible at promoting it. also i very much love this fic even if it never did that well bc ive always wanted to write a fic like this after watching the movie in cinemas in 2019

12.

ok nsfw i guess 

Mornings start like this- Eggsy snuffling into David’s neck, attempting to work his way back up to wakefulness as David sleeps the sleep of the dead, the streams of morning sunlight gradually lightening up the room. It’s a while before he gets the energy to sit up, pushing an eager V off the bed- V for Vendetta, a kitten named after one of David’s favourite movies that they’d adopted about a month after moving in together- before stumbling to the loo. He’s already in the shower when David comes in, naked as the day he’s born with his arms entwining themselves around Eggsy’s waist as he murmurs a sleep-soft, “Good morning, love,” as he presses a kiss into the two-days-old hickey on Eggsy’s shoulder. His breath smells of toothpaste, the minty fresh kind he insists on buying from Target no matter how much Eggsy insists that the other brand is much better. Without fail, Eggsy always has a split second thought of thinking that he must truly be in heaven because no way can this be his reality, every single day, before sinking to his knees and allowing David’s cock to hit the back of his throat.

- from that’s the kind of love i’ve been dreaming of. i genuinely wish i had an opinion for this but i don’t remember writing this its been way too long

13. 

The first time Eggsy sees her is in Trafalgar Square.

Trafalgar Square is uncomfortably packed on any normal day, but on New Year’s it is quite the hothouse. Sweating armpits and hot bodies plastered against each other, the twinkling lights overhead providing a flash of blue and green and yellow and red, screaming children and giggling teenagers shoving their way through- it’s a recipe for disaster. Eggsy doesn’t know how he ends up there. It happens sometimes- one second he blinks, sequestered in the comfort of his living room, and the next he’s somewhere else, as if he’s been teleported. “Life goes past you,” Tilde had said once, “and you don’t even notice.” Tilde would be right.

- this is a roxy and eggsy friendship centric fic that i abandoned bc i lost my ardor for this world about the same time i got into xmen lmfjgjg. all the king’s horses also had some great fancasts in it with dev patel fancasted too... rip ig

14. 

once again, nsfw

Eggsy, truth be told, doesn’t actually like having sex in bathrooms. First of all, bathrooms generally have an unsanitary air about them. Besides that, the granite of the sinks always feel cold against his hips, there is the ever present fear of being walked in on and unlike what people might say, he actually really isn’t that much of an exhibitionist- and truth be told, he’s never liked the look of himself in the mirror mid coitus.

For David Budd, however, he suspects he might be up for anything.

- from do you ever dream of me. im actually proud of this fic and this series, i never usually write straight up porn or friends w benefits and i think it worked well in here. once again didnt get much traction but that was very of the norm for my kingsman fics lmfjgj

15.

It is on his fifth meeting with the therapist on site that she brings the issue up. The elephant in the room- or the bomb , David thinks morbidly. If asked, he can’t remember specifics about that day now. All he remembers is this- the burn of Julia’s picture in his wallet against his thigh, the Botticelli painting on the far wall and Miss Paulson’s face, severe and unsmiling.

“When you couldn’t reach Julia,” she says, after he finishes describing the feeling of running to Julia, the panic searing his chest as he’d prayed for his legs to work faster so he could do something, anything to reach her hand. “How did that make you feel?”

- from your haunted social scene. i genuinely... do not remember anything about this either helpfkjgjg,,, this has 55 comments tho which. Nice

16.

David brings her home on- in a move far too cliche for it to be reality- a stormy night. It’s in fact storming so hard the windowpanes shudder like leaves in the wind, droplets crashing against the glass in a cacophony so loud Eggsy more than once considers turning the radio all the way up to drown it out. He’d gone scrounging for David’s sweatshirts instead of his own halfway through, wincing intermittently at the flashes of thunder. At a particularly loud one JB had jumped up, squeaked in a very undoglike manner and skidded across the floor to cower beneath the sofa, only coming out when coaxed by Eggsy to do so. Officer Oatmeal had watched the proceedings from her regal place by the armchair, dozy eyed and blinking heavily.

- from a cat named lavender. from what i remember this was also my first try at bringing up trans eggsy

17.

He first appears at the black prince on a cold Monday evening, eyes like Frank Sinatra and lips arresting anyone’s gaze if they weren’t careful enough. He stood out too, clad in a respectable bomber jacket and boots that clicked against the tile rhythmically and loudly, a sort of organised, measured cacophony.

“Go and serve him,” Andrew said, fat and disinterested, seated behind the counter and idly flicking through bills, less than ten percent of which he pays Eggsy. “I’m busy.”

- from trust is left in lovers after all. i never continued this which is sad bc this did get a lot of attention... it was just v hard to keep the story going

18.

It usually rains cats and dogs in London but for some reason, the rain is heavier than usual today. The droplets splatter against the windows in a constant buzzing rhythm, the sound meshing together in a melody not altogether pleasant to the ears. It’s half past five and yet the light has to be kept on because that’s how dark the sky has gotten- thunder rolls like a loud crack, abrupt and deafening, causing Daisy to jump in her seat.

“Just a thunderstorm, flower,” Eggsy says. They’re seated at the dinner table, Eggsy going over her homework while David sits opposite them, hunched over his laptop as he attempts to finish a post mission report. Eggsy is half convinced he gave up ten minutes ago- he’s got his earbuds in and he hasn’t really typed anything in a while, eyes focused on the screen. His eyebrows are scrunched up in a glare that’s too adorable for his own good- and for Eggsy’s.

- from could feel like kryptonite. a lot of my kingsman fics are actually so much happier than my cherik ones... i should prob look into that rip

19.

“When you’re done lazing around you can come in, you dozy dog,” he tells Officer Oatmeal, who butts her nose into his knee. She’s the only one not on a diet in the house, Eggsy deeming her far too healthy and skinny to need one anyway. In fact, she’s under strict instructions by Eggsy to fatten up instead.

Once the animals are done feeding- Eggsy sporting a suspicious scratch on his left forearm- they settle down to eat their scrambled eggs and toast. David’s taken a large gulp of his scalding coffee when Eggsy says, all of a sudden, “So, I have a school reunion.”

- from gonna set this dance alight. don’t remember much about this either tbh

20. (the last one FINALLY)

It isn’t a big event or explosion that makes David realise he wants to see his father’s ring sitting pretty on Eggsy’s index finger. No teary confessions in the rain like in the rom coms Eggsy loves to rent out and sniffle his way through, or a fight that makes David see sense. In the end, it’s breakfast that cinches the deal for him.

The day had started out normally enough. David wakes up at eight like clockwork, the soft downy hair at the base of Eggsy’s neck tickling his nose with his arm locked tight around his waist. He’d yawned, exhausted- mostly because they’d stayed up very late into the night making good use of the bed- before standing up and shucking his shirt off to head for the shower. Eggsy had shifted in his sleep, mumbling something unintelligible, and the sight had been too endearing to resist so he’d bent down, pressing a kiss to his forehead and smiling when Eggsy groaned out loud.

- from lover boy rules. i actually started a lot of my kingsman fics in the same way which is rather awful of me. im glad thats changed with my xmen fics lmfjgjk. also this has 15 comments???? i dont even get that much attention with my xmcu fics these days... which is arguably a more active fandom... Hello

anyway that’s the end of it needless to say i do not know 10 other authors so im just gonna tag whoever i know rn: @hellfre , @queerneto, @ikeracity, @drinkingstars, @zebraljb

[elliethesuperfruitlover]

tw/venting

ayo the thought of having to go back to school in a little over a month is fucking wild. like.....i feel like i just got out of school and binge watched invincible for the first time. IT FEELS LIKE YESTERDAY. it’s extremely scary thinking about how fast time is passing by because i keep doing the same thing everyday. there’s barely any change in anything. not allowed outside. my IRL friends arent vaxxed yet, and even if they were, my mom’s suspicious of my intentions when going out. and lets not get into the fact that school doesnt stress me out as much, but i’ll be damned if i dont have awful test anxiety still. i feel like everything is fucking passing me by and that sucks ASS. my classmates are going out to beaches and shit, and posting on insta (good for them, i probably need to touch some grass) but like?? i feel like im just being robbed of my life. and teen years and all that. 

i know the pandemic has been hard for LITERALLY everyone. (if you said 2020 was a good year, hush, you’re alone in that regard bestie, dont wanna hear it) but i just......im finally recognizing feelings and all that (shit’s scary man) my thoughts dont match my body whatsoever (not dysphoria, its derealization, or something similar). thats so scary to me. sometimes i catch myself in the mirror and im talking and im like...”thats not me.....oh fuck, it is me.” so i dont look in the mirror and talk aloud, is what im saying. i’ll have a breakdown. but im extremely extroverted. i love people, and seeing people and hugging people. and not feeling like every day that i spend inside of my fucking house is a waste of time because time travel doesnt exist and i cant get any of these days back. at all. it is a never ending cycle. i just want a hug, dude. i’ve never experienced cuddling before either. i would love to platonically cuddle someone. but i got rid of toxic friends (still not over it) and got very radicalized...but for what. my own knowledge and betterment.....but eh. plus i traumadump, nobody wants to hear my sob story, i need to hush. and get in contact with my therapist. and discuss my anxiety issues. and possible depression. and PTSD and so many other things because it’s really not cute. anyways.

also heyy, my body issues are back. like?? hello. not that they ever went away, they just steep for a bit, then start boiling back. and that’s torture for me. having a generally okay body is fine, but then i realize that when i do wear pants, they’re either my overalls (comfort and queerness) or jeans. and yay those are tighter than they were last time. and i know weight fluctuation is a thing that happens, but i really feel like i could do more to not feel as bad. (i mean, sure, i could, but exercising makes me feel horrible mentally so). i see classmates thin and everything (i know thin isnt always healthy, but a part of me wishes that i was bone thin, we wont talk about it) and i know “every body is a bikini body” and i support that initiative 1,000 percent, but A. i have no idea if my parents would even let me get one if i wanted one (i dont) and B. i dont have the confidence to wear something like that. i even hate the fucking swimsuit that i have. i want the fucking full length victorian swimsuits with a shirt and fucking shorts because i cant stand being exposed. my stomach pokes out too much. my arms arent muscly like they were some years back. i just feel....so weird. and the “oh she’s smart, she cant be hot.” one or the other type shit that my brain keeps trying to tell me is real ia NASTY. like heyyy i have a brain, and i use it most days, but my body also shouldnt be fuckshitted like this. this collection of skin and bones keeps me safe (but not from my brain, its on some different shit)

another thing is that i can not wear exposing things. ugh, i would feel so just....out in the open. im literally scared of someone coming behind me and fucking groping me, or slapping my ass. (valid fear) but i literally fucking HATE feeling like that. one, I AM UNDERAGED, and two, ITS NASTY EITHER WAY. and if i went to school, and wore something mildly form fitting, i’d be pushing my body forward to look less noticeable (i dont trust seniors), or pulling my jacket down (i always wear jackets in school) so people arent looking at me. that sucks. and i wish i didnt make my anxiety that bad as to where it just sucks to exist. with a human flesh prison that looks a certain way. i kinda just want to hide my body. permanently. (not dysphoria related, my tits are fine, if they stay, cool, if they don’t, cool) but like...ugh.

and this is where it gets EXTREMELY dark, trigger warning for suicide mention.

yeah last year on the first week of school (virtual) i really wanted to kill myself. which like..isnt okay. i havent really told anyone about that either. because it was an extremely low point for me. i just didn’t think that i could fucking make it through the entire year. all those assignments, and all those days, wasted. im not learning anything valuable (besides maybe science and finance)...i dont know what the fuck i want to do with my life. there’s no such thing as ethical consumption so i’m gonna be contributing to something fucked up, no matter what i do. im weird. and political. and opinionated. and into so many different things. which, y’know, should be cool and fun and fresh. but it terrifies me to know that other people arent like me. that they many never understand my interests. and i feel like this with EVERYONE in EVERY class. unless i see a similar interest. or a tiny flag. but the thought of introducing myself again and again. to more people. who i may never fucking see again. who probably dont care about me. kinda discourages you a bit. so yeah, i really wanted to off myself. it seemed so impossible to get through everything. and then heyyy, near the end of the year, something really shitty happened. was depressed. told my mom i may be autistic... “okay...well....getting diagnoses takes a lot of money. so unless you have 700 bucks laying around....then no.” (who says the person who may ALSO be autistic along with me) few weeks back, talking about my therapist who wanted to talk through the DSM-4 with me “you really think you’re autistic huh.” of course mom. why else would i have written a paper about it, followed actually autistic accounts, and done research on it.

then near the next year, i sucked even more ass. friend shit broke me down and i felt....like i fucked up. which i did. and like i cant keep people in my life. (which is partially true) and i felt more physically exhausted than i had in literal years. i feel very deeply, and especially with negative emotions. so that really fucked me up. (may be something more serious, i have no idea) so there’s that. i just....i’ve never felt like i had been so awful in some time. like i let everyone around me down. so no more of /those/ situations. i dont sleep correctly when my hair is wet, so you can imagine how my dreams were THAT night.

but yeah, i dont feel like wanting to kill myself again. because i know it’s not worth it. but something just keeps pulling me deeper into these disgusting pits of awfulness. like there’s no other way out. (wrong) and gritting my teeth and willing myself to do things is going to hurt, but it’s quite literally the only choice i have. i cant give up. so there’s that. my thoughts and everything. yeah.....it’s 5:10 in the morning, im going the fuck to sleep.

[thoughtfulbreadd]

You know, my mental health has always been a struggle to keep somewhat stable. It's ok really, I've dealt with it the best I've been able to do so for so long. A few weeks ago I was so scared bout what was gonna happen next to me, all I ever wanted in just a day crashed and collapsed in front of me all in a matter of a few hours. All the pain I endured, the pain that consumed me from the inside, and occasionally physically, I thought it was all worth it for a while. I was living the dream haha.

The thing is as of lately since that day, I've noticed that somethin in me has broke. I told one of my friends something that I felt, it all came crashing down and usually when it's too much I just go to aleep to cope with it and not hurt myself. But that night I had a dream, it felt just like being awake days prior, I was happy and things were great. But when I woke up I was alone and scared in the corner of a room, freezing and that's when it happened.

I started crying my ass off cause I felt all was gone in just like that, and in my head something broke, since that day I havent cried. I havent felt pain, I havent felt anything really, the thoughts I've had in the back of my mind are now the majority of my thoughts, but unlike before that I was scared and cried cause I didnt wanna feel that way, now I just don't feel anything really. I've been trying to do all I can because I think I wanna see what happens next. But as of a while now, I am not sure if that's what I want.

I have always felt the need to make others happy you know, family, friends, strangers, crushes, etc. But since I moved I noticed no one really requires me in any way. I have had the question in the back of my mind whether my existence is important to anyone or not, but from what I've seen, it really isn't.

Family doesnt interact with me, and even when I'm physically present it's like I'm a ghost, no one sees me nor hears me, but at the end it's always been that way, but I've confirmed that none of them really care bout what I do.

Friends, those whom I've told my struggles have walked away when I needed help. I helped with some of their pain when they had issues with their family, school or their love life, but once it came to me, none helped me... but it's ok, I got myself through painful situations, sexual harassment from professors and students; being outed at school and not long later at home where I didnt feel safe to do so. I thought "I'll just get through this and when I graduate I'll be able to make my own decisions and move elsewhere to not deal with this anymore". But moving didnt help. Not only did I struggle meeting people, some I did just wanted to fuck, some just wanted to get drunk or get high, and others I tried to bond with didn't seem to care.

Being gay has always been a major issue with my mental health. Ever since I was a kid I was scared bout being gay thanks to some words from family, from kids on school, from media mocking being femenine in any sort of way. I know a lot of people have dealt with this, and it fucking sucks really. Sometimes I still wish I was just straight cause then I'd not have dealt with things I've dealt with.

I've always hated people, but I gave some a shot. Some guys whom I've had the pleasure to talk with have liked me, and I did too in a way. I got excited, but then some I realized didn't really give a fuck when I talked to them, they just wanted to see me jerk off on camera for their entertainment, which is ok really, I thought I was happy to do that for them cause least I felt someone noticed or needed me in a way. But once I started dating people it sucked.

I have always known I'm bipolar, so I know I'm not necesarily easy to talk to. My mood changes too much at times even when I try to act like I'm cool and weird. I mean also depression and anxiety don't help much, cause when I've done things that I love to do, I would feel so disconnected and out of it cause I was pretending because at the moment I was pissed or sad or scared, even tho i was excited and happy moments ago.

I became a whore for a bit after moving out, every other night I hooked up with a different guy, occasionally more than one the same night because I didn't want to be alone in my apartment in the new city. Slowly I started feeling that well hooking up wasnt the best, so I started dating, and I got so excited about it thinkin I could meet someone who could care about me you know. But I think thay no matter what, there really isn't anyone that cares the way I care for people, that now I just don't care really.

Lately I've felt tired and exhausted, but since I broke down a few weeks ago, I haven't been the same. Part of me is trying to find someway for me to find a way to go back into that dream, another part is looking for a different thing to look forward to, but I'm tired, and I'm not scared anymore. Before I cried because I was scared I was gonna hurt myself or hurt someone else emotionally, but from what I've seen it really doesn't have any effect on anyone either wayz and I know that.

I have had more cuts around my body now than ever before, but the difference now is that before I felt the pin as a stop now, you will be ok, but now it feels like pressure has been released and I feel better after that.

I went to a therapist again, but other than the fake tears they see, I really don't feel much anymore. I don't know what I'm gonna do, I joke around and say "I'm gonna cut an arm off and start a new somewhere else" or "I wanna fall into a coma" but it's not a joke I do feel like that's something I wanna do you know...

I really am not sure where I stand at this moment, part of me wants to finish the semester and try something else, but part of me doesn't and just wants to take a really long nap, or just sleep forever. I know this is bad, but the fact that it feels like a viable option and I'm not scared of it as I used to be now feels weird. It just feels like I would feel the same way as I feel now that I don't feel anything...

Idk what's gonna happen, but I'll just put this here, if someone reads it, it's ok, if they don't it's ok. I'm aware it will just not matter either way, so no point in worrying bout it.

[juupajaa]

Do you think it's possible to recover, not necessarily from an ed, but just from general shitty mental health on your own? I've been considering seeking help for a long time, but I don't even know what I would say and I am deeply uncomfortable with the idea of opening up about my pain. But I don't know how to address my issues on my own; I don't even know where to begin. But I know even less about how to ask for help. I feel stuck. :(

Well let's just say that people make it through every day. Some can completely heal and some learn how to cope.

For me at least, I beat my depression through some serious commitment to working through the things that beat me into the ground. I had to carry that baggage for good handful of years before I had went through it all and learned to let go of it. I tried a couple of medications but I mostly got bad side effects from them.

I never had anxiety as a disorder, but I am in general prone to negative emotion. So it's in my very personality to be scared and to worry about stuff that I shouldn't worry about and I've had to learn to cope with it.

But then again, I know someone who has been smacked down real bad and they're still on the ground, ten years later. They've been to everyone and tried every medicine and treatment under the sun and nothing seems to work. I also know that they have very little going for them, so there's hardly a reason to get better, just for the sake of getting better.

Medication and therapy are pretty much the most effective tools we have but these things aren't available to everyone and there are ways to help and heal your mind to some extent on your own.

I hate to say this because I keep saying it, but little things do make a difference. Being properly fed and rested have a massive effect on our general wellbeing. Having a goal and moving towards it helps us to stay motivated and gives us gratification. Pleasant surroundings make us happier and having healthy relationships makes us feel like we're accepted. Little things can go a long way in coping and managing your mental health and mindset. It sounds like a stupid easy fix, but all of that is proven to have a positive impact on our brains and how we function.

I've told this story before but let's have it again: So I used to be the most bitter, hateful little critter who just couldn't be bothered bc life was pointless, too hard and so overwhelming. One day when I realized I had no one left, no goals, I didnt like anything in my life, everything was just absolutely worthless, I had dropped out of all therapy bc I felt like I gained nothing from it. I thought it was either to just die or get better. So I decided that I'm gonna make my bed in the morning and start with that. And I did. I made my bed every morning and I felt better for it. Then I moved onto sleeping enough. Then eating better. Then trying to be nicer to people, trying to be nicer to myself, finding myself something worthwhile to do, thinking about what I want to do and who I want to be, making my surroundings more to my liking, take up routines that I found helpful, taking up some manageable responsibilities. Little by little I climbed out of that pit and now, even if I just recently had a bit of an emergency with my ed flaring up, I'm doing ok. I like my life despite everything and I can cope with my anxieties and weird fears and existential dread by making sure I still make my bed every morning and so on and so on. Every day isn't great, but overall I feel like a functioning person with a place in the world and I don't doubt my reason to live. I really really like life now and I'm happy to get out of bed in the morning, even if just to make my bed.

If it feels like you can't make any sense of your head and why you feel like you do, try simplifying it a little. Instead of trying to make sense of it, try observing it. Even just to acknowledge that you feel something is a good start. In cognitive therapy, we often use thought-emotion-action cycle to organize our minds a little. Here's a nice pic of it:

Let's say you slept all day for "no reason". In therapy, we would try to figure out what was the emotion behind it. Maybe you felt sluggish or disappointed and didn't want to get up. Then we'd try to figure out what was the thought behind that emotion. Maybe you thought, you don't have a reason to get out of bed and you don't really want to see the dish mountain in the kitchen. You can use this model in any order, let's say you notice an emotion first but don't know why that emotion came to you. Does that emotion spark up any action out of you? Is there some thought that caused the emotion.

This is a skill you can get really good at with practice. It can feel really difficult at first but you'll get better at it the more you do it. You don't have to write any of these things down, but that might help you even more while you try to figure out what's going in in your mind. The easiest way to do this is ofc with a therapist, but you can do it by yourself too. And who knows, maybe once you start to understand your mind a bit better, it might become easier to talk about this stuff to someone else.

It's really hard to give advice on getting help without knowing where you're from, the options are very different from country to country and city to city. I'd turn to someone who knows better, like a school nurse/counsellor. I'm sure they can point you to the right direction, but if you don't think you want to go, you can try stuff on your own. Self help and self care are a huge part of all recovery and healing! Good luck and feel free to ask if something's confusing or you need more info or help!

[jawnjendes]

the truth hurts but secrets kill | shawn mendes

chapter 8/?, university au, shawn x goth oc

AN: lol the taglist didnt work on my last chapter so if you havent read but i’ll show you my teeth pls do eet. anyways this chapter is an angsty buildup full of angst. my specialty.

***let me know if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist

masterlist | playlist coming soon

"Where do you live?" Annalise asked for what felt like the thousandth time.

"Do you even think she's capable of answering?" Patrick said, his arm supporting Alessia's waist as he helped her stumble down the university road.

The Lyft to campus went without any major issue. Alessia did not puke in the car, she merely leaned against the door in the backseat. Annalise had gotten annoyingly chatty with the driver, talking about childhood trauma and the inevitability of death. She claimed it was practice for when she's a real therapist, though the driver was trying to focus on the road. Patrick left the driver a generous tip through the app.

The three of them were left just close enough to the dorms, but there was still a walk to be had, and it felt like it was taking centuries with how much Alessia slowed them down. Annalise kept looking around at the dark surroundings as they paced with her pocket knife in hand. Alessia mumbled something incoherent, her head lolling from side to side.

"I've never heard of that building, where is it?" Annalise asked her.

"Dude, you're gonna have to take her back to your place," Patrick told her. "I don't even think she knows her own name."

With a reluctant sigh, Annalise closed her pocket knife and wrapped her arm around the smaller girl's waist. They were approaching the corner where she and Patrick would typically part ways. Alessia noticed the shift and leaned all her weight into Annalise, mumbling under her rancid breath. It wasn't her first time babysitting a drunk toddler, but that doesn't mean she likes doing it.

Patrick was kind enough to walk the two girls up to Annalise's dorm. Alessia was swaying ominously in the elevator, like she wanted to be cradled like a baby. She was definitely ready for bed.

"Ya casi, mi vida," Annalise said as they stumbled down the third floor corridor.

"Why do you call her that?" Patrick asked. "’Me veeda.’ Isn't that what you would call your boyfriend?"

"It's the same thing as a waitress would call you sweetie or something," she replied. "Or the way you'd talk to a toddler. A drunk one."

She managed to pull her key from her back pocket and give it to Patrick. He unlocked the appropriate door, and the three of them were met with more people and more loud music.

Apparently, Stella hadn't planned on staying alone this Saturday night. She was on the armchair, with Camila squished in right next to her. They weren't alone, either. Shawn and Brian were on the couch, each holding a beer. All four of them stared at the two goths holding the short normie up on two feet.

"Oh my god, you're right on time!" Stella exclaimed. "Shawn's working on an EP! He's giving a us a preview! And he made another duet with Camila!"

"Este guey se puso peda," Annalise said with mild snark, gesturing to the girl on her arm. "I'm gonna put her down."

"You're gonna kill her?" Patrick asked, his blue eyes wide. "Damn, I didn't know you hated her that much!"

"Shut up, I brought her here, didn't I?"

She did not look at the guests on the couch as she carefully led Alessia to her bedroom. She ignored Patrick starting up a conversation with everyone. She had things to do, and it was hard enough with her fluffy mind racing.

"There we go, my dear," she said as she sat the intoxicated girl on the bed. "Acuestate, mija. Tomorrow's gonna suck, but you can rest now."

She patted Alessia's head before moving to take off her sneakers. Then, Annalise took her phone from her jacket pocket and plugged it into the charger on then nightstand. Before she could sigh in relief that they all made it back alive, she heard a voice at the door.

"Hey, you."

When Annalise turned to face him, it was like a million fireworks went off at once. Her entire body froze in the best way, and the air in her lungs was knocked out of her. He's even prettier in person.

"Someone have too much fun?" he asked, nodding towards the now sleeping Alessia.

Annalise could not tear her eyes away from his face long enough to think of an answer. All she wanted to do was stare at him for the rest of eternity.

Then, Patrick came up from behind Shawn, an amused grin on his face. "Bro, she's high as a kite right now."

Shawn looked confused for a moment and then turned to him. "Ann doesn't smoke."

"She used to all the fucking time last year." Patrick was still grinning. "She wanted to have fun tonight, so I gave her a hit of my pen."

"So you drugged her up, eh?"

"Bro-"

"I'm not your bro. Don't you care about her health at all? Don't you remember she was in the hospital a couple of months ago?"

The grin faded. "I care about her and her freedom. Not that I have to explain that to you." Patrick excused himself.

Annalise heard every word, but her wide eyes were still on Shawn. She was stepping towards him before she even realized, and then her arms were going around his middle. He was still warm and soft and he smelled good. It was like personified crack. Annalise smiled as her head rested on his chest. "I love you, my baby."

Shawn hesitated, but he hugged her back. "Love you too." Then he pulled back, his hands on her shoulders. "Where are you gonna sleep?"

"The couch." Annalise's fingers were gripping the back of his t-shirt.

"You sure? Wouldn't you rather come stay with me? I'm leaving soon anyway."

Annalise giggled so much her voice squeaked. But she frowned almost instantly. "Don't be like Chad."

"Who's Chad?"

"No one important. I think sober Annalise is gonna be mad at you."

"What? Why?"

She pointed to the sleeping girl on the bed. "That one told high Annalise some things. Sober Annalise might not even remember, but if she does, she'll probably talk to you on check in day. Like, actual talking this time."

"Why can't we talk now?" Shawn asked. "I think high-you will be more understanding than sober-you."

"High Annalise is stupidly in love with you. We'll get nowhere, my dear."

He chewed the inside of his cheek as he gazed down at her. "Yeah, you always call me cute names when you're on drugs. Like that time in the hospital. And all those times you got high with me. Oh wait…" he trailed off. "Every time I asked you to smoke with me you said you didn't trust me enough. But tonight you trusted somebody else, eh?"

She giggled. "I knew you'd be mad at me too. We have much to talk about, baby boy."

~

In theory, the reason for Alessia's disappearance the following morning would be that she remembered the tea she spilled upon waking up and now she wanted to avoid the wrath of the goth girlfriend. In reality, she wouldn't be entirely wrong.

Even after sleeping for twelve hours, Annalise couldn't get those bits of forbidden information out of her head. She had dreams about catching Shawn and Alessia having really loud sex, but she woke up to hear her roommate doing exactly that. Then, she had a recurring dream of Shawn admitting to cheating on her, except this time he had twelve versions of Henry the orange tabby surrounding him. The last dream she remembered having was one where she ended up back in the hospital, and that she was given no anesthesia for her surgery. She had her stomach removed, and she watched every drop of blood and guts come out of the gaping hole in her body.

She woke with a start after every one of these vivid dreams. Maybe it was the after effects of being stoned, but she felt uneasy for that whole day. She typically binged to her heart's content, but the hospital dream was still on her mind. She allowed herself to have a Lunchables, but not much else.

Then, Monday rolled around and Annalise found it difficult to act like a person. She got out of bed, had an unsatisfying breakfast. She did it, and that's the only thing that matters right? Screw all the other feelings. The paranoia she felt after the Abnormal Psych lecture about eating disorders doesn't matter. The impending embarrassing discomfort  from sitting alone at a table in Bio Lab doesn't matter either. Who cares about the sad ache in her chest after seeing Shawn and Alessia leave their class together? Who cares if they're still in high spirits even though they knew that Annalise knew? Who cares?

Annalise doesn't, that's for damn sure. She was perfectly fine. She pushed herself out of bed today even though she wanted nothing more than to induce a coma on herself. Who cares if she still felt shitty after?

Although, she was putting off the impending chat with Shawn until check in on Saturday. He had to know it was coming, why else would he just stop texting her?

Unless he's already with Alessia, and therefore playing me like a violin. Maybe Shawn was just ignoring me to make me go crazy.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Annalise whispered as she put on her headphones. She was glad she caught herself slipping, she didn't want the wide-eyed crazies on display as she walked out of the Social Studies building.

Her steps were slower and more careful as she picked a song to play from her phone. After settling for Halsey, she pulled out her black, round sunglasses and put them on. Gotta hide them nightmare eyes.

Maybe… perhaps… I need to check in earlier than normal?

"Don't be stupid," she told herself.

It wouldn't hurt though, would it? Maybe he would be happy to see me since I would be breaking my own rule. Unless, of course, he's hanging around Alessia again. Perhaps he doesn't care anymore.

The only solution Annalise had was to dump herself on the couch in the dorm and play Tetris 99 until the thoughts and feelings sorted themselves out.

When Stella came home, she knew the drill. She sat on the couch and ranted about her day. She rambled on about her fascist history professor and the lack of a GSA club on campus. Then, she mentioned a Halloween party coming up at one of the frat houses, and that she needed a hot costume.

It was the month where Annalise and all her spooky darkness was socially acceptable, and she couldn't even be excited about it. A different type of darkness was taking over, and it was stupid that it was over a boy. Why did she have to be so dramatic? Why was she so goddamn crazy?

"I'll pick your costume," she said over Stella's rambling.

She paused, her brilliant hazel eyes wide. To say she was surprised that Annalise cracked so fast would be an understatement. But she smiled. "Would you? Ooo, can I pick yours?"

"Ah, I don't think I'm gonna do anything for Halloween this year."

"What? But it's your favorite holiday! You need to come to this party with me! Buddy system, remember?"

"Is that the only reason-"

"Of course not, you dummy! We haven't spent enough time together since the semester started! Let's go find some costumes, yeah? I'll even let you dress me up as scary as you want!"

Stella's a good friend. Annalise should really try harder to spend time with her. Why didn't she try to be a good friend in return?

They went to the local costume store that Friday. It gave Annalise a wonderful excuse to not go to the gaming club meeting. She really did not want to reflect on the Bart adventure, or see just how bad she fucked up Chad's nose.

After returning to campus with a dark but still cute witch costume, Stella was summoned to Camila's dorm. She thanked Annalise for the lovely costume choice and practically abandoned her. Annalise couldn't find it in her to really care. It was only a few more hours until Saturday.

She had barely settled herself on the couch when her phone buzzed. For the first time this week, Shawn had texted her. Annalise held her phone up, staring blankly at the screen. Her heart should be pounding right now, shouldn't it?

"Hey, I know check in is tomorrow but I can't make it at our usual time. I have a gig tomorrow night. You should come and we can talk after."

The next text was the address to the lounge he would be performing at.

Any other time, Annalise would have been happy to know Shawn was performing again. But he cancelled on her, knowing that he was in trouble. Is that what it took for him to start booking shows again? Was this just an elaborate way to avoid Annalise? Perhaps this was just some form of reverse psychology so she wouldn't go to the gig.

You can't psych out a psychology major. Of course Annalise was going to this gig.

However, she had a mostly sleepless night, really unable to shake the fact that Shawn was probably avoiding her. When she finally did sleep, she slept too much. Annalise woke up in the afternoon and was late for work. She had planned to ask if she could leave early, but she didn't dare try anything now. The gig was at eight, when her shift ended. She ended up going to the lounge in her work uniform, a button up with the dealership name on, and baggy slacks. Not exactly the sexy outfit she had planned during the late hours of insomnia.

The show had already started by the time she got there. As she was showing her ID to the bouncer, she heard Shawn's voice over the mic, and she felt something for the first time in days. Her stomach felt tight as she slowly stepped into the lounge.

The turnout was decent. Every single table and bar stool was occupied, and all eyes were on the band performing on the stage. Annalise looked around for any empty space; She wasn't dressed her best but she did want to be anywhere but against the wall opposite the stage. Her eyes spotted the group of people standing directly in front of the stage.

It was the normal group of girls who swooned every time Shawn blinked, but there were also three other girls that Annalise knew all too well. They were jumping and singing along to Lost in Japan, not a single care in the world. Annalise wondered why Stella didn't tell her that she was going to this event, but the way she looked at Camila as they sang to each other said enough. Maybe they chose Alessia to be their new third wheel too. So Alessia was too embarrassed to face Annalise, but not Shawn?

Annalise always stood in the back of every one of Shawn's shows, knowing she would stick out like a sore thumb in the midst of the usual fangirls. Not that that's a bad thing, it just wasn't her usual place to be. She figured that showing up at all would be enough.

Perhaps Shawn already had enough. Three of his friends were already cheering him on, and surely he had more of them scattered in the audience. Not to mention, the people here that didn't know him were going to adore him by the end of the night. Besides, Shawn most likely invited her as a ploy to get her to turn it down. She wasn't needed here. Annalise chewed the inside of her lip as she back up towards the exit. She stepped outside, away from the people trying to get in, and she pulled her phone out. She composed a new text:

"Hey, I'm drowning in work so I won't make it to your show. I'll meet you at your place later so we can talk🖤"

_______

taglist: @normalcyisoverrated-beyou @ilsolee @mendesromano @1-800-khalid-mendussy @kitykatnumber @strangerliaa @iloveshawnieboi @poppyshawn @shawnsunflower @shawnvvmendes @ruinhoney @someoneunimportantxx @calyumthomas @yourdeflightfullyleft @havethetimeeofyourlifee @shawmndes @wronglanemendes @chillingbythesea 

[remmiesaloser]

13 Years | 4 Weeks

honestly, I dont know which of the two have been longer in my life. 

so recently I ended a 13 year long relationship with the guy I've been dating since my freshman year of high school. it took me this long to understand, acknowledge, and accept the relationship was emotionally (and borderline physically) abusive and thanks two my two best friends and a very nice therapist I asked him to move out.

I thought the overwhelming life style change would be the hardest. I haven't been alone since I was 14 and it took me a long time to build up the courage to end things because I am terrified of change and had little to no idea what to do without him. to my surprise I've adapted to being alone pretty well. the loneliness does get to me sometimes - I miss those moments we had where we could have a conversation without speaking. I miss over a decade’s worth of inside jokes, and it still hurts when I see something and instantly think of him cause it was our thing.

its a daily struggle to remind myself why I did this because its frighteningly easy to minimize the damage he did when he’s not here to do it every day. the gaslighting and emotional manipulation isn't something that just switches off or diminishes with distance. somehow, in some super shitty, unfair way, it gets worse. because im left alone with my thoughts that he’s managed to turn against me and they’re still working angles for him that catch me off-guard sometimes. I still battle with guilt for making him move out, because I feel terrible that now he’s stuck living with his mom and all his things are in boxes. and I hate that it’s gonna take a long time for that to go away. 

but I digress. because all of that isn’t the hardest part. the hardest part is getting him the fuck out of this apartment. we 'ended things’ April 5th. there are quotes around that because we haven’t officially broken up. like, I told him I needed a break till he gets his shit together, and he’s all but moved out, but I haven’t even changed our relationship status on Facebook (yay, guilt!) and we haven't really agreed that we’re broken up. Jesus, again I digress. ANYWAYS. I knew it was gonna be a process to move him out because our lives are so intertwined that we’ve had to go through rooms and drawers and boxes one by one separating our shit. and this process has been fucking agonizing because he is dragging his goddamn feet. 

Initially I thought we were gonna bang this out in a weekend, get all the shit out and be done. A month later, and there’s still a pile of his shit at the top of the stairs, a handful of things in the corner of the living room (including the giant china cabinet filled with his things) and his grandmother’s dishes in my cupboards. but that’s a post for another day. because right now im just gonna vent about him taking his sweet ass time, being insanely petty, and still somehow fucking manipulating me when he doesn’t even live here anymore. 

honestly the pettiness and inconsideration for my own time and requests is the biggest thing that’s getting to me, what’s driving me to write this. most of the time he’s been here for his shit, his mom’s been with him, and I was chalking up a lot of the pettiness to her. because he’d be here to get the things from the living room, and hours after they'd left I’d notice small things had been taken from other parts of the house. now some of the stuff he’s taken was his, just something I was using with him that I’d assumed he’d at least mention he was taking. im a lot of things, but selfish isn’t one of them and honestly unless it’s something from my family or something that I bought that was expensive, I don’t care. he can have it. It’s more the fact that, when I need something all of a sudden I cant find it and realize he took it. 

like, his nana’s pots and pans. They’re a really nice set his mom let us have and I fully expected them gone. my only request was that he give me a heads up so I could go out and get my own set when he planned to take them because with them gone, all I’d have left is a few frying pans. This is our conversation from that weekend:  

This was Saturday afternoon. He never told me he wasn’t going to come by Saturday, and gave me a 15 minute heads up he was on his way over on Sunday - which did me no good because I wasn’t even home. That meant I couldn’t clean out the dressers (I didnt want to do it until the day he was going to get them because I would have to leave my clothes on the bed until I could get my own dresser from my parent’s house once his were gone). When I got home, all of my clothes were thrown on my bed and the ground.I had to rewash a bunch of shit, refold everything, and then clean the entire room from the mess that was made. 

fucking on top of that, his mom decided to take the pots and pans. I’d specifically asked him Saturday because I was going to Walmart and could have bought a new set for myself while there. I didn't want to buy them until I needed to because I’m trying to save money and didn’t get paid that weekend, so I figured if he’s not taking them I don’t need to get things until I get paid next weekend. Wrong. I had to go out that night again and get a set because, as I said, all I had were 3 frying pans and a skillet thing. Oddly enough, she didn’t take the dishes. They were her mom’s, just like the pots and pans, and for some reason she didn’t want them... don’t worry, I already plan to pack them up this weekend and give them back because lord knows what’ll happen if I dont and she decides she wants them six years from now. 

honestly though the biggest level of petty was the Tylenol PM. I know, it’s not a big deal. But it’s just one of those little things that I stopped and was like, are you fucking kidding me. I noticed that, after taking his bed and dressers, the pack of tissues he’d got us from Sam’s was gone. Again, he bought them, whatever. would’ve been nice for him to tell me so I had a heads up to fucking get them when I was at Walmart but whatever. he also took a 6-pack of toilet paper he’d gotten literally the day we ended things (because he’d gone to king Soopers with his mother instead of talking to me about the fight we’d had) and he’d initially told me to keep it, it was for me anyways. I noticed just last weekend it was gone. 

but the fucking Tylenol PM. I'm not one to buy brand name medicine. if I can get store brand, I will. Almost all my medicine is store brand except that Tylenol PM because I was really sick one year and wanted the good stuff. Y’all know how expensive Tylenol is. I sprang for it, and I used it sparingly because I didnt want to have to buy more if I didn’t really need it. Well, two weekends ago I fell down a fucking mountain. I was running a trail down a mountain, tripped, flew through the air, and landed on my shoulder and kneecap. It still hurts, and that day I was in a lot of pain. The regular Tylenol and Ibuprofen that I’d been switching back and forth with all day just wasn’t doing the trick and I was like, okay. this is a Tylenol PM kind of pain. That night, right before bed, I went to grab it from the bathroom cabinet. 

it was gone. the rest of my medicines, the store brand acetaminophen and store brand ibuprofen, those were still there, but the Tylenol PM was gone. It has exclusively only lived either on the dresser/nightstand in the bedroom, or the bathroom cabinet. as he took the dresser and nightstand, and it wasn’t in the cabinet, it had been taken. I cannot tell you how livid I was. it still pisses me off. because of all the things to take he took that. Not the rest of his bathroom shit, not even all his shit from the bedroom. but he took the Tylenol PM. I even asked if he knew where it might be - thinking he’d come across it at some point. he told me “it’s always been in the linen closet” where the rest of our medicines are. It was never there, but I checked the entire closet just in case - nothing. Again, I know it’s small. it’s just a bottle of pills. but it’s the whole damn thought behind it. 

there’s more things too - the fact that no, he doesn’t take all his things from a certain room, and I have to then box the rest of his shit up, move it out of my way, and clean the room that he trashed. 

It’s the fact that 90% of the things on our walls were his (which helps show me how little say I had on my own things in the apartment I exclusively pay for) and now that he’s taken them, he’s left the walls, hooks, and nails behind. most of them are up way above my head - he needed a ladder to put them in - and now they’re littered all over the wall. today, as he worked to get the shit from our front bedroom (hopefully the last things he’ll need to get) I asked him if he could also get the nails and hooks out of the wall because I can’t reach them. he asked me, “did you try using the step-ladder?”. I answered no, and he simply said, “that should work then”. Like, no. you put those up, so you could display all the things of yours YOU wanted to display (3 out of 4 walls in the room were covered with his things) and now he can’t even take the tacks down even though he took the hangings down. 

and then of course, it’s the fact that he just leaves a mess in his wake. when he first moved things out of the living room it was a mess. I spent hours rearranging shit, packing up the rest of his shit that he left behind, and then cleaning up everything because I still have to live here. it was the same with the bedroom. and now it’s gonna be the same thing with the front room. I told him today that everything needs to be out by next weekend because I can’t do this every weekend. He asked what I meant by ‘this’ and explained that I was tired of having to clean up everything that got messed up. He told me simply “it’s not being destroyed. I’m just taking my things”. At the moment the entire room was in shambles, everything askew from him digging his things out and leaving my stuff lying in piles. It’s cleaned up now - save the pile of boxes and junk at the top of the stairs - but I told him I have to clean up the mess that’s left behind. He didn’t have an answer for that. 

Honestly there’s really not a point to this. I’m just pissed, I’m annoyed, and I’m angry, and I’m sad. I’m just tired. And I wanted to vent. So if you stuck with me through this, I wanna thank you for listening. I appreciate being heard, because I haven’t been for so long. your time means a lot to me. 

[keelywolfe]

Fic: Hearts and Hopes

Summary:  It's been a long week and Edge is tired. His husband still has a trick up his sleeve but that's okay, he keeps his heart on his sleeve, too. It's a fair trade.

Notes: If you thought to yourself that I couldn’t possibly get more fluffy with this, brace yourself.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established relationship, Fluff, hurt/comfort

part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

The monitor screen was starting to blur in his vision and Edge rubbed at his sockets irritably, trying to focus. It was late enough in the day for it to be close to pointless and the stacks of folders at his elbow were a clear sign that he hadn’t gotten nearly enough done over the course of the day. Janice was sorely missed and as much as he wanted her to take her time recovering, he’d be relieved when she finally came back. Working without her was like trying to type with a hand tied behind his back, doable but slow going.

Edge sighed tiredly. He was being unreasonably annoyed with himself and he knew it. Along with missing his assistant, he hadn’t slept well, nightmares lurking in the corners of his sleep. Those dreams always came back when he was stressed. He hated that particular weakness, didn’t allow his nightmares to follow him into his waking hours but still, his sleep was interrupted, and it left him drained.

It was endlessly irritating that his subconscious mind refused to leave the past in the past. Underfell no longer had a hold on his daytime life, when would it leave his nights in peace? The probable answer to that was not one he particularly liked.

A knock on his door made him jerk and Edge swore under his breath. It was nearly time for him to go home, he wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone else’s problems today and without Janice to run interference, he was going to have to put his own diplomacy to the test.

“Come in,” he called, trying to keep his irritation from his voice.

To his surprise, Stretch poked his head in the door, grinning cheekily. “heya handsome, you about done?”

Edge could only sigh in a mixture of fondness and exasperation. Days after Stretch had promised him to be careful coming down here, if he came down here, which he rarely did, of course that would be when he showed up at his door.

“okay, you can stop with the look,” Stretch chided. Not that there was a look, Edge was certain of that, but Stretch could always read him better than anyone. “i shortcutted into the lobby from the bus stop, as per. no one saw me outside. i even called reception before i did so no one would have a shitfit about me coming out of nowhere.”

“Thank you for your caution,” Edge said dryly, masking his relief that Stretch was at least taking him seriously. “Can I ask why you’re here when I would have been home shortly anyway?”

“you can ask and i’ll even answer,” Stretch grinned happily, rocking on his heels, and Edge waited, suspiciously. “i want you to drive me someplace.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Edge gave him a narrow look. “Where am I driving you?”

Stretch’s grin turned sly and he tapped the faint protuberance of his nasal bone, “now, see, that’s where you’ll need to be patient, babe. you’ll see when we get there.”

For one moment, he considered begging off. Whatever game Stretch was playing was surely heartfelt, but he was tired and wasn’t really feeling up to a mysterious road trip. Janice was supposed to be back next week, and even so they’d be days catching up to the backlog of work.

Tempting, but to do so would steal that look of glee from Stretch, his visible delight in whatever it was he had planned. Stretch would accept it if he asked, Edge knew, he wouldn’t complain or protest, and whatever disappointment he felt would be held back, muted into nothing but dimmer eye lights, his normal exuberance only slightly subdued. Nothing that most people would notice.

But Edge would know.

“Let me pull the car up to the sidewalk,” Edge sighed. “You can see it from reception, and you can shortcut to it.”

“Whatever makes you happy,” Stretch said agreeably, bouncing on his toes as he waited for Edge to put on his coat.

You make me happy, Edge didn’t say, though he did reel Stretch in for a quick kiss, one that was happily given.

He did hope it wasn’t a long drive.

~~*~~

Stretch really hoped this wasn’t a mistake.

For one, he could tell Edge was tired. That was fucking disturbing as it was, Edge was usually a six-foot energizer bunny, his baby could go and go, and usually did. He wasn’t used to seeing lingering weariness in him, the way his eye lights were dimmer than normal.

Yeah, that and the nightmares he’d been having this week, thanks, if Edge thought he was hiding those, he was ever-fucking-wrong, and maybe he didn’t wake up screaming loud enough to peel the linoleum but even still, he wasn’t sleeping well.

Tempting as it was to play the hypocrite card and point out that he’d gotten dragged to a therapist when his nightmares were bad, eh, even he couldn’t pretend it was quite the same. His own issues had always been a little deeper than just a few bad dreams. Not that Edge probably wouldn’t benefit from a therapist; fuck, between him, Sans, and the Fell brothers, they could probably see about getting a group rate, but it didn’t feel like a battle worth fighting.

Not yet, anyway.

So, after spending a few days wracking his brain, trying to come up with something to do for Edge, he’d finally had an idea. Good idea? Time would tell, but he was hedging enough on it to have Edge following the GPS on his phone without letting him see the final address.

The building they pulled into was unimpressive, only two other cars in the parking lot and there was no sign to betray him.

Edge followed him up the walkway, waiting with silent wariness as Stretch knocked on the unassuming door. They didn’t have to wait long for a young Human woman to answer, smiling warmly even though she’d only met Stretch face to face once before, that very morning. They’d known each other on Twitter for a long time and had a pretty good working relationship, and she’d been eager to help when he asked for this very particular favor.

“Hello,” she said brightly, holding the door open, “Come on in, you’re right on time.”

“deena, this is my husband, edge.” Stretch told her as he toed off his shoes. Edge did the same, slower, though he nodded to her politely, shaking her hand when she offered it.

“It’s good to meet you in person, Edge,” Deena smiled. “Just follow me.”

“What is this?” Edge muttered, low enough to only carry to Stretch. His confusion deepened at the sound that was getting louder as they walked down the hallway, whimpers and whines. At the end was a doorway blocked by a baby gate and behind it were crying balls of fluffy puppy, all of them piled together in front of the gate.

“Get back, you little beasts,” Deena laughed, stepping over the gate. She made her way to the back of the room where there was a table laden with items. “You’ll have to excuse their manners, they’re hungry.”

Stretch followed her and, more reluctantly, Edge. The puppies milled at their feet and Stretch reached down to pick one of the squirmy bundles up.

“this is the hearts of hope animal shelter,” Stretch told his husband, petting the eager puppy in his arms. “i post for them all the time on my twitter for donations and adoptions. someone found these little guys in a box behind a dumpster and they’re fostering them until their old enough to adopt.” Without waiting for any protests, he thrust the puppy into Edge’s hands, waiting only long enough for him reflexively catch it before letting go and snagging up another.

“Rus…” Edge murmured warningly.

“it’s not what you think, i promise. i’m not angling for another pet, the chickens are good.” He grinned, nuzzling into soft fur. “but come on, look!”

The puppies looked like little toasted marshmallows, puffy white overlaid with tan, the leftover little ones tumbling around their feet, whimpering and crying. Deena came back carrying a box of filled bottles, handed one to Edge and Rus before gathering up a puppy of her own.

“Here you go, greedy Gus,” she laughed as the puppy latched on to the nipple instantly, suckling hungrily. “They eat so much at this age.”

Stretch offered the bottle to the puppy in his arms, sinking down to sit on a clean spot on the floor. Another puppy took the opportunity to clamber into his lap, and Stretch laughed, snagging another bottle and trying to feed two at once.

It was worth all the effort, all the worrying and planning, to see Edge shifting to sit next to him, inexpertly handling his own puppy, but soon each one of the floofs had a bottle and were eating with blissful eagerness.

It didn’t take long for them to drain the bottles and that left them with a lapful of sleepy little critters, their tummies round and full.

“There we are, you little troublemakers,” Deena crooned. She gathered up her puppy and sat it fearlessly into Edge’s lap where it curled up with his sibling. Stretch loved her a little for that, but then, she had a lot of experience in dealing with bruised souls, didn’t she? “Hold them for a bit, could you, while I clean up?”

“I…all right,” Edge agreed, a little helplessly, as Deena gathered up the empty bottles and left. He stroked a tentative hand over his puppies, petting gently. One of them kicked a foot, whimpering indistinctly and sighing as Edge scratched behind one tiny ear. Softly, he asked, “What made you think to bring me here?”

Stretch shrugged a little, petting his own sleepy fluffies. “you told me once how loyal the dogs of your Snowdin were. i just thought…you sounded like you maybe you missed them.”

“They were very loyal,” Edge agreed. It did not escape Stretch’s notice that he didn’t say anything about missing them. “But puppies of Aboveground are not the same as Monsters.”

Stretch only shrugged again. No, they weren’t, but Edge didn’t stop petting them, either.

He did slant Stretch a narrow look. “We aren’t taking one home.”

“nope, not even asking,” Stretch agreed, gathering up one of his puppies to nuzzle soft fur. “these are more like…therapy dogs.”

“I don’t—” Edge began and stopped, biting off the words.

“don’t what?” Stretch settled his drowsy puppy back into his lap, trailing his fingers through silky fur. “don’t need therapy? you can say it, i’m not offended.”

A flicker of something like guilt tinted Edge’s expression. “I don’t mean to imply there is anything wrong with needing it.”

“you aren’t,” Stretch said firmly. “now c’mon, these little guys need your help.”

It was deliberate phrasing, and even if Edge knew what he was doing, it tended to work. Edge was hardwired somewhere in a way that made him like helping. Even puppies.

“My help?” Edge said dubiously, but he took the sleeping puppy Stretch handed him, gently adding him to his pile.

“yep. he needs pets and loves.”

There was something indescribably precious about seeing his fierce, proud husband with a lapful of sleeping puppies curled against him. Petting them carefully, heedless of the shed fur clinging to his expensive trousers. No wonder Edge had so many clothes; married to Stretch, he sure as hell went through them. Their drycleaner was going to be able to retire in the tropics.

He couldn’t resist snapping a picture of it, planning on making it the background on his phone. Only to blink in surprise when Edge asked him, hesitantly. “Do you think posting a picture to Twitter would be helpful for adopting them out? My appearance is sometimes…unnerving for Humans.”

Well, that was an unpleasant realization to sneak in amidst all the adorable. Was that really why Edge didn’t like Stretch posting pictures of him online? It was on the tip of his tongue to say it wasn’t true and even if it was, he didn’t give a flying fuck. Edge was fucking gorgeous, sexy as all hell, and he didn’t give a shit what any coldhearted Humans thought about it.

He choked it back. That wasn’t going to help and Edge preferred honesty, even if it was unpleasant. They were using his Twitter and Instagram for propaganda, that was a fact, and Edge did look fierce sometimes to people, no, to fucking idiots who couldn’t look beneath the hard crust to see the marshmallow filling beneath. A picture didn’t give context; Stretch knew his love, knew how tender, how gentle and caring he was.

Stretch took a long, slow breath, and considered his words carefully. “tell you what, i’ll get a few shots that’ll let me post about the puppies online but still protect your privacy, yeah? so people don’t stop you on the street to ask for your autograph. and you can see them first, get veto rights.”

Must not have done too badly, because Edge’s smile was easier, his hesitance falling away, “All right.”

They stayed for a while longer, cuddling the puppies. One of them woke up enough to gnaw on Stretch’s fingers a little too enthusiastically with his needle-sharp little teeth, making him curse and Edge chuckle. It woke the rest of them and soon they went from snoozing balls of fluff to playful, tumbling ones, tugging eagerly on a rope toy as Edge held it or clambering into his lap for more pets and scritches, until they both were laughing, Deena staying tactfully away for the time being.

Not a cure for nightmares, Stretch knew, not an answer to his husband’s troubles, but it was hard to be too miserable when you were covered in puppies.

-finis-

[cordytriestowrite]

Monday Mornings

Bucky x Reader

Previous Chapters

Summary: All you wanted to do was help the people of New York get through what had happened to them. But how were you supposed to help the man who just sat on your couch?

Bucky arrived promptly at six to your office the week following his abrupt departure. You half expected this to be the start of what you typically and ominously referred to as The Departure. You had seen it before, a client would leave early or arrive late for a few more sessions before never returning, avoiding phone calls and emails checking in on their wellbeing that would have to morph into unpaid bill notices and threats of collection agencies. You hated reaching that point, usually reminding yourself not to take it personally, it was just business after all, but rarely could you separate yourself from the situation and think of your services as simply transactional. When Bucky had left it took until he stepped through your door the following week to let go of the knot of anxiousness you had been holding in your chest. A knot that tangled and twisted around itself at the idea of losing him.

But here he was, bright eyed and slightly bashful as he held out a paper coffee cup that you had yet to take from him. Not only had he come back, he had arrived on time and with a coffee obviously meant to be a request of repentance. You took it from him gingerly after a beat, smiling graciously.

"Thank you, this is very sweet, but you didnt have to-"

He let out a small chuckle before shaking his head, "I wanted to."

You nodded, the gesture one of thankful acceptance. You brought the lid to your lips and let the hot mixture of coffee and milk settle on your tongue. Unthinkingly you pulled a face at the flavor, something was off.

"Uh sorry if it tastes weird. I tried to describe the markings I saw on the side of your cup to the barista. Must've got it wrong." He shrugged sheepishly, head hung low as he rubbed the back of his neck with his exposed metallic hand.

Your eyes coasted along the unclothed limb, taking a mental note of his decision to leave the metal uncovered. He was apologetic, thoughtful of your time, and getting more comfortable in your presence. Your stomach soured as you took another sip of the coffee, though the curdling in your middle had nothing to do with taste and everything to do with the bitterness you felt at your selfish wish that Bucky wasn't your patient. The actions blurred the professional line you had drawn upon his first session, the line that held you desire to know him on a more romantic level at bay while your duty as a psychologist continued it's more important job.

You cleared your throat and gestured to the couch which Bucky sat upon eagerly, as if he were waiting for your permission, as if the coffee wasn't enough for him to know he was in your good graces. You set the drink down on the table between you, noticing the mark on the cup that made this concoction different than your usual. Soy milk.

"Well I am glad you are here because we have a score to settle." You teased, rising from your seat and making your way to the shelf beside your still open door, you closed it softly and the room was wrapped in a blanket of privacy. You bent slightly to grab the deck of cards, now shuffled and stacked in a pile on the second to last shelf. It was time for a rematch.

"Can't let my best girl think she's won by default now can I?" Bucky said from behind you, his tone cocksure. You smirked and turned back to look at him, finding him relaxed against the back of the couch, his arms stretched wide taking up the entirety of the seat and allowing you a greedy look at his strong arms and muscular chest, your eyes flicked up from their lingering glance and your eyes would have met Bucky's if his gaze was not squared intently on your backside.

You bit your lip and straighted, trying with all your might to ignore the image in your mind; eyes of bright blue drinking you in like a tall glass of lemonade. You reasoned with yourself, forcing your logical mind to accept what you planned to say next which could continue you on this flirtatious track.

"Best girl huh?" Your voice was casual, lilted with the smallest tease that matched the pointed raise of your eyebrow. You doled out card between you, setting up the game while Bucky's laid back stance shifted yet again to one of uncertainty, a timid stumble of sputtered words that did not end in a complete sentence until a couple of tries in.

"I don't know a lot of dames so yeah, out of the ones I know I guess you're my favorite. You're the only one-" he cut off suddenly, picking up his cards and studying them too keenly to be believed. You moved about the cards in your hand, matching up pairs and suits while you waited patiently for what would hopefully be a big stroke to your ego. He sighed petulantly after the silence stretched long enough to tell him you would not give in and change the subject.

"You're the only one I find myself wanting to be around."

Your heart practically jumped from your chest, up your neck, and out of your mouth to hurl itself at Bucky and promise to be his forever. Luckily your heart was incapable of embarrassing you in such a way.

"Is there a reason you don't know a lot of women?" You asked as you displayed the triplet of cards bearing the number eight in black, black, and red. You asked partially out of curiosity, but mostly out of habit, knowing these inquires would bring you closer to helping him with whatever brought him to you in the first place.

"The ones I know I..." he started, then closed his lips and gave himself a moment to roll a few words around in his mouth before choosing the one that tasted best, "work with. I don't get out much."

"What do you do in your spare time?"

He considered the question as he placed down a pair of jacks and discarded a two. It was fascinating to watch him choose his words so carefully, like he knew each one had to have significance. Thoughtful. The word echoed in your head.

"I mostly work out, I dont just lie about my running habits to my friends to spend time with you." He joked and you cracked a smile. You drew a card from the deck and immediately threw it down as a discard.

"I like to read." He offered as he took his turn, "I also like to go to the farmers market on Saturdays."

"The farmers market is a great place to meet people." You said.

"I've met a few people," he sighed putting down a full set of fours, making you pout at his sudden lead. "But it doesnt ever go anywhere."

You mulled over the halfhearted excuse, letting it swim in your head. Bucky was gorgeous, there was not denying it and no doubt that's what drew women to him as he perused the Saturday market. What happened after that? What caused the fizzle and eventual death of a relationship that never even started? These were questions you could ask him, but you figured such a direct cause for self reflection would be too much for the man who deemed his therapist to be his best female friend.

Bucky ended up winning the game, his moves so strategically made that you hadn't realized your fate was sealed until you had caught his victorious grin three turns before the end. Your banter had shifted away from Bucky's dating life and practically left the realm of counseling all together in favor of smack talk and flirtatious digs. As you collected the cards Bucky looked up at the clock above his head.

"I got a few minutes left." He commented.

You hummed in acknowledgment, not looking up from the deck you were shuffling, the cards bent in your hands as you prepared to let them flicker from the halves you held into a complete set on the table.

"So, do you have a boyfriend?"

The cards you had been holding with just the right amount of pressure suddenly shot from your grip as your fingers reflexively moved in surprise. You felt your mortification double at the mess of cards strewn about the coffee table, some falling to the floor on either side as their momentum carried them over the edge. Bucky laughed lightly and you both bent down on your respective sides to collect the fallen cards.

"Sorry doll, didn't mean to get you all flustered." He said as he resurfaced and placed the rogue cards on the table. He didnt sound apologetic.

"No, no, I just lost my grip." You said lamely, faking more cards to be picked up on your side so you wouldnt have to look at him. You knew he didnt believe your fib.

"Well would you look at that your time is up. See you next week." You said hurridly, timing your completion of card settling with the start of the new hour. You rose and returned the deck to its spot on the shelf, opening your door for him immediately after.

"Are you gonna make me wait until next week to find out if you gotta guy?" Bucky whined, getting up from the couch and joining you near the doorway. His plush lips were held in a small pout, eyes large and innocent if you ignored the playful shine ribbing you had given them.

"No I don't have a boyfriend." You conceded.

"Why not?"

"Dont get out much." You said, mirroring Bucky's own words back at him. He smiled, his face alight with a satisfaction you couldn't pinpoint a sensible reason for. With a nod he walked through the doorway and around the corner, whistling a mocking tune that echoed in your ears long after he left.

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[ossseous]

I wanna talk about my firing lets talk about my firing lmao where do i even start. i think i’ll start with when i started there, i was very involved with EVERYTHING and i was working very closely with the owner/boss. like that was the whole point of my job, was doing everything the owner/boss didn’t have the time to do.

his wife did not like this, i do not think. she is the one who interviewed me and hired me. but she was pretty cold to me from the get go, and I just brushed it off because i never really worked with her anyways because even though she was the office manager she was like NEVER actually at the office. fun fact, i actually thought one of my coworkers was the office manager until like a month ago, because she did all the office manager tasks lmao

i will not lie. i did not have any respect for her. she had her job there because she was the boss’s wife and she wanted a tight hold on the finances. she wasn’t good at her job. she wasn’t good at communicating with people. she was sexist. she was rude. she also got her cousin a job there, and said cousin ALSO did not ever actually do her job either. so, i just kind of thought of both of them as jokes lmao.

SO fast forward to my evaluation: they (im pretty sure it was SHE, because she does all the office hiring/job stuff) offered me a “promotion” to a different position. she said it was a position that they interviewed a lot for, but they never found anyone good enough. they thought i was good enough and had the “drive” for it.

i did not like this. because this said to me: the people who were good enough for that job, the people like me, didn’t bother even applying for it. there is a reason for that. because it was UNDER FUCKING PAID and the list of responsibilities WAS TWO PAGES LONG. the job listing was an actual screenshot of indeed.com webpage and at the top there was a fucking poP UP SAYING THAT THEY SHOULD TO RAISE THE BUDGET ON THE POSITION TO GET THE CANDIDATES THEY WANTED. what a joke.

after i thought about it, i went to the owner later, and I told him straight to his face what that job listing said to me, and I told him it was a little insulting and hurt my feelings because it felt disrespectful. he was like, okay, bring me a job listing and compensation you think is better for you and we will go over it. though he did at one point say me coming to him about it was “a little whiny” what the fuck ever, he said way ruder and unprofessional shit to everyone else on a daily basis so it was only a matter of time before he honed it in on me too.

i bring him the new job position and compensation, he approves both of them earlier this month. i set about starting my new responsibilities andddd

both the boss and his wife start just shutting me out of everything. no communication. not to mention the active sabotage--things like purposefully disrupting the project I was working on, implementing new shit related to my project without even giving me a heads up, not keeping me up to date on BIG fucking changes that affected my project.

also when i get my paycheck, i have been given the first raise that the boss’s wife offered me, not the higher raise the boss offered me. because she does the payroll shit.

lmao i WAS NOT going to let that shit stop me, so I started working with a manager and started focusing in on projects I could do to help him with until the shit with my main project settled and all the fucking changes were finished. he was the only person in management i could even stand at that point.

So cut to yesterday. I have to take an emergency call with my therapist due to my insurance fucking up my prescriptions and I wasn’t handling stress well AT ALL, on top of the actual withdrawal pain I was in. I tell the receptionist about the call, and tell her to let anyone who comes looking for me to know they will find me outside on the call since it’s private health stuff.

so I clock out and take the call out in my car and I at one point the boss’s wife comes out in the parking lot and is staring at me through my rear view mirror, but I figure she’s just waiting for her dog to pee. I finish the call, go back in, clock in, start back on my work and she comes in and fires me for leaving all the time without telling anyone so no one can ever find me. she’s smiling the whole fucking time

I’m flabbergasted??? because i ALWAYS TELL SOMEONE, which I TELL HER, and shes like, WELL, THEY ARENT YOUR SUPERVISOR.

excuse the fuck out of me, first of all when i started i was told one of my coworkers who wasn’t the boss’s wife was my direct supervisor, like sorry if it took you telling me at my fucking 90 day evaluation for me to learn she actually wasn’t. thats your own dumb ass fault. second of all, NO ONE ELSE HAS TO TELL HER when they leave. the protocol, that i was taught on my FIRST FUCKING DAY WAS: IF YOU NEED TO GO ON A BREAK JUST LET SOMEONE KNOW. i was even told it was less important for me because I didn’t have to work on the phone. so everyone else? they just tell the fuckign receptionist. hell, one woman even goes on a smoke break EVERY FUCKING HOUR and i REGULARLY can’t find her because she will be out there smoking in her car, yet ho ho ho she aint getting fired for it. third of all SHE DIDNT GIVE ME ONE SINGLE FUCKIGN WRITTEN NOTICE. if she had just FUCKING COME TO ME ABOUT IT and EXPLAINED WHAT WAS WRONG, I WOULD HAVE FIXED MY BEHAVIOR.

but that would involve the management actually communicating with their employees and outlining their expectations and they can’t do that for some reason. also, why give a fucking written warning when you are looking for a reason to fire that bitch your husband, and your BFF’s husband, and all the other men in the office are always mooning over and complimenting and checking out ? the bitch who wasn’t scared to call any of you out on your shitty behavior? that bitch that doesn’t have any respect for you because you haven’t done anything to earn it? that bitch who knew her worth and knew she was being taken advantage of and being underpaid ? that bitch that sat in on important meetings with your husband and had a deeper understanding of the company and it’s financial problems than you even did?

whatever, I know its for the best. i’m the fourth employee they have lost in the last two months. they can’t hiring anyone to replace them because they have a hiring process maintained by an idiot. everyone is scared they will get fired next, and after yesterday, when she fired the office golden child because she’s petty and jealous?? their employees are going to start jumping ship. so (shrug)

[swampgallows]

i have an appt with my therapist again today in a few hours and i think this will be like her third strike. i feel increasingly uncomfortable talking to her even if she seems invested in my writing etc. it just feels like the same shit all over again. people taking what they want from me and treating me like a commodity, like a personal jester for their entertainment, and then not giving a shit about me or my feelings. she told me it’s okay to talk a lot and to complain but then tells me to stop complaining—”we’ve done that part”—and while i dont like complaining at that point i was just explaining my reasoning more than complaining. 

i feel like she’s frustrated because i’m not making progress as quickly as she’d like and she thinks i have all this potential, and like, no shit. you’re frustrated after two months? try 28 fucking years. this has been the situation my entire life, this is what i’m in therapy for, this is why i’m suicidal. i’m sick to death of people saying all this shit about how i’m not doing enough, i’m not doing well enough, how i’m SO smart and SO this or that and treat me like i’m wasted potential all the time. i’m fucking sick of potential. and i get paralyzed about doing anything because when i do ANYTHING it’s never good enough, it’s always people telling me that i didnt try hard enough or that i didnt do my best or telling me how it could be better.

i busted my fucking ass off in school for nearly two decades, doing all the extra credit and being in advanced placement gifted magnet college prep what have you bullshit, at the top percentile of goddamn everything, and all of it amounted to nothing. all of it is inherently useless. i get to just live with the Good Feeling of doing a good job because it’s reflective of absolutely nothing. i have no life skills and no independence and zero confidence in myself doing anything. i have no faith in myself or reason to live. i dont have a reason to stick around and see anything through and the only reason i havent killed myself yet is because i’m afraid of death, but the only reason i havent committed myself to an institution is because of the backlash i would get from my parents and because of the hefty price tag on the asylum. 

once i get out of the house i usually feel better, but it has been a challenge to get out of the house. it’s a challenge to get anything done IN the house unless it’s something that my parents directly are scrutinizing me for. like “oh she did the dishes! she’s not useless after all.” or “oh she actually was doing something on her computer, looks like she isn’t just sitting around playing games.” and they care about those things not for my welfare but for their own image. they dont want some loser neet child, and i guess i dont really want that either, but only because of the image, really. i’d like to be independent from my parents but i constantly feel like it’s not possible or feasible due to external factors. even when i was employed there was no way i was making enough money to pay rent anywhere. one coworker who didnt live w her parents lived with NINE other people and STILL paid 800 a month. 

and even when i lived alone in my dorm away from my parents, i was still feeling completely useless and had no desire to do anything. i was completely disconnected from the world. raving was good at that time luckily but in terms of just...anything, i was talking to shitty people and meeting up with strangers who luckily didnt murder or rape me... just because. ironically i got hit by a car trying to meet up w a dude from school. i feel like i deserve to be punished and beaten constantly and i low-key do it to myself through denying myself anything. like sabotaging my life through passivity.

but it seemed like my therapist was more sympathetic before in her description of my “learned helplessness”, that it causes me fucking pain to try to do anything on my own. it’s not just nervousness or anxiety, it’s a paralyzing fear. because if i do anything it destroys my mom and then i have to live with that guilt and emotional fallout. i feel horrible that i don’t like my mom as a person, and i dont blame anyone else for also not liking her. i dont describe my mom as likable. i wish i could help my mom, but i can’t, and at the same time, i dont want to. she has sucked so much life out of me and she’s ruining my life but it also feels like i’ll be abandoning her if i go. it’s real fucking easy for my therapist to say “you’re not responsible for your parents” but theyve been responsible for me all this time. i didnt fucking ask to be born but i also feel like i’m literally the only thing keeping my mom from killing herself. i hate when she says “everyone would be better off without me” because to an extent it’s true. we’d be better off without her hoarding everything, we’d be better off not walking on eggshells constantly around her aggressive self-deprecation, we’d be better off without her bigotry (at least i would), we’d be better off without all the shit that makes me not want to help her. i dont want to resent my mom but i already have so much contempt for everything, and i’m so used to having these shackles on that i dont really know how to live without them. 

when i went to target with nate i felt just..shocked and excited but also scared about the fact that i could buy literally anything i wanted at the store for snacks and my parents wouldnt know about it. i wouldnt have to explain to my mom where i “got these” or if i had more or justify how expensive they were or have fear her buying ten more bags of it because i liked it one time. i got to just purchase what i wanted and ate it right there and like thank god they didnt KNOW about it. they’ll see that i spent money at target but they dont know it was on fancy cookies and candy. 

when i had a job i felt more independent because i was making money, and i’m still spending the money that i made, but they still fucking see everything i do unless it’s through paypal. i talked about opening a separate account but theres no way to get the money from that account to my new one without my parents noticing, obviously. it’s hard to take all of the steps that i can envision because i know they are painful. the only way my brother and sister have independence is because they’ve been completely emotionally numb or, more in my sister’s case, have been actively antagonistic toward my parents. my mom is now “afraid” of my sister, and nearly every time she comes over she’s screaming at my mom. 

i dont know the true logistics of opening a new bank account but i guess if i get a new job i could start putting the money in that account. im only applying to costco so far because i have literally no idea of what jobs are out there or what i could do. but costco has good benefits and i really REALLY need my teeth fixed and i REALLY need new glasses. im still wearing the glasses that were in the accident and have a huge gouge out of the center of the right lens. im scared that ive already trained my brain to create a blind spot. 

it helps to write this stuff out but it’s hard to find a solution. and maybe my therapist is also frustrated because she can’t find a solution either. but for me that’s just my fucking reality lmao. the only thing i can really think of is just throwing a dart on a map and sneaking away to some other fucking state or something. that’s really the only way my brother and sister made it out, too. but i dunno where i’d go or what i’d do, still, but at least then it would be more immediate and more on my terms. i’d basically just be throwing a dart somewhere. but then i’d really be alone.