#do they make me anxious anyway? also yes
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im-still-watching-anime · 2 years ago
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me, scared of thunderstorms: man this storm sucks guess i’ll play games to calm myself down
the game basically immediately: welcome to the Always Storming Area™️
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jamiebluewind · 7 days ago
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Today has been one of those "Sorry! I couldn't hear you over the texture of my socks" days.
#autistic#actually autistic#audhd#it's so embarrassing!!!#like yes i care and yes i was listening but also no i have no idea what you just said#getting diagnosed gave me permission to admit what's REALLY wrong and also do shit outside social norms to make it suck less#but it also makes me look “weird” to non autistic people (and past me who wasn't diagnosed til my 30s)#I can remember past me saying that I couldn't be autistic because I don't do [thing] (I was powering through and suffering)#It's like... I have a mild allergy to a couple foods but didn't know for YEARS so I'd eat whatever and either suffer or take benadryl#then well into adulthood one of my friends was listening and was like DUDE YOU ARE ALLERGIC TO THAT ARE YOU KIDDING ME!???#doctor had me change my diet DRASTICALLY but the constant itchiness and sore throat and stomach pain went away#but sometimes people act weird or put out when I ask questions or refuse food#sometimes people lie and say a food is safe when it's SUPER not and then I'm having an allergic reaction on the way home#my body is permanently damaged because of decades of trying to eat like everybody else#meanwhile my mental health took that hit from decades of trying to ACT like everybody else#I'm sooo much happier now with my safe foods and silly fidgets and good textures AND I can live an active life!#but sometimes people give me funny looks when I ask for the grill to be cleaned or don't like a new shirt because it makes me anxious#hell the other day a dude gave me a weird look (and I overheard shit they said) because I HAPPY STIMMED at Hot Topic (Hazbin merch)#meanwhile my friends love my stimming because its the “Jamie barometer”#my (best friend's) mom says the biggest compliment to her cooking is when she can hear me foot tapping under the table#so... yeah#a diagnosis is permission to be me and have a better life at the cost of dealing with assholes because I'm not masking or lying anymore#bluewind talks#holy journal entry batman!#did NOT intend the tags to turn into... whatever the fuck this is XD#but if for some reason you read this far? I hope you found something in it that made you think or made you smile (if not hi anyway! ^_^)
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silversiren1101 · 4 months ago
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My therapist had an emergency and had to cancel on me this week, so I need to write down my thoughts before the ADHD void eats them. This one is a little raw.
There are so many sites and papers and resources about how trauma leads to hypersensitivity and how to be gentle and respectful of such victims, but I can never and have never found anything on how the same trauma can lead to you not being able to handle hypersensitive people at all--which sucks because it reminds me so much of the classic sucky case of incompatible autism quirks.
Growing up gaslit (literal actual definition) by my parents well into my early adulthood by being blamed for everything a sibling did, abused and punished for things they thought I said or did (no a sneeze is and never has been a laugh and even if it was does it warrant screaming yourself hoarse at a child), and told again and again I was born wrong and make people miserable and the reason I don't understand why is because I'm Evil (again, a child)... is it any surprise really that I get extremely angry around the flavor of sensitive person that by-default assumes the worst intent or thoughts in those around them?
Is it not the same thing? The assumption that I've done something bad or malicious that I have not and would not ever do? Overly apologetic people that compulsively apologize for even the most innocent things, posts/comments that exude those vibes or seem to be asking for permission to do things in their own space (why are you asking others stop putting this responsibility on someone else you're an adult), etc out of fear that they will be found annoying/make someone mad/literally explode and die. You know the type. Anyone you have to walk on eggshells around.
And DUH I know it's not personal, that's the worst part! Obviously it isn't! This is their own issues manifesting as a defense mechanism/desperation for acceptance just as I have my own, BUT it does unfortunately become a self-fulfilling prophecy because now I AM angry and annoyed as hell because an assumption of bad intent/faith has been made of me without any evidence (even though I am but a silhouette in a bigger crowd and it is not a direct personal thing in the slightest) and whoops that's my main trigger! Like oopsie (hypothetical) the killswitch is turning on and I'm seething because someone apologized for "being annoying" one too many times even though literally no one has said anything suggesting anything of the sort which means they surely see me as some sort of malicious horrific monster that hates them because why else would they assume such a thing when you wouldn't assume that of normal chill people you're cool with! Except no, of course they don't see you that way, it's just anxiety/trauma/whatever talking, please be more patient with them, etc etc.
To which I say Sure! Of course! I'll try my best! I understand completely!
Patience for me though? Asking them to (in the kindest gentlest way) to meet me halfway and accommodate me back in return by easing up on the constant apologies and assuming by default I want to hear from them and about them and want only good things for them?
Suddenly that's an impossible ask. I'm being callous just asking for that, you can't just ask sensitive people to "toughen up"! So it's expected of you to just keep face-tanking repeated triggers over and over again as you grit your teeth and try your best (ie "toughen up"). All the while you're working so hard to heal so you won't deal with this stupid fucking trigger anymore that makes you viciously angry at fellow abuse victims/anxious folks with different defense mechanisms... bonus points of course if they aren't trying to get better themselves while you're certainly expected to and demanded to because you have the "weird/wrong/less talked about" trigger and response.
It's just, unfortunate. It's an unfortunate incompatibility. It fucking sucks actually. I wish there was more in the way of resources and conversations for people like me, but I can't find any. It's so isolating and it only feeds into my detachment and dissociation tendencies more so that I don't have moments like this (concurrently making me feel everything less and care about nothing anymore).
And it's especially unfortunate because tumblr is a really bad place at times for me because of it. Most of the time it doesn't affect me (high mental health times, logic wins out). When it does, I try my best to simply not respond or acknowledge in any way the posts and content that turns me into a snarling snapping beast for the stupidest reasons (oh, someone apologized too many times in their tags or post on their own blog for whatever anxious reason and now I want to tear their throat out). I simply close the tab/channel/log out/close the computer, because I know I'm being very stupid and this is a nonsensical irrational response. It's not about me. I don't need to and shouldn't care.
In the rarest of cases, I've unfollowed. It takes a lot still for me to unfollow for this reason (I am thankfully not an impulsive person) but in the few cases that it has, I'm sorry I tried I explode them with my mind before realizing that was probably a sign I should not keep letting myself be exposed to things that make me think and feel that way. I probably did and still do think they're a cool person and liked them 90% of the time, and I don't have any blame or hatred or whatever negative feelings! It sucks being like this, I know intimately!
But, I am simply a very tired girl trying not to reach a breaking point and go sicko mode on someone because I got irrationally and disproportionately angry over anxiety posting on the fucking internet.
And for the love of GOD if you're actually close with me and we talk for realsies (not just tumblr moot) and reading this makes you anxious about how you act around me just fucking talk to me directly please. It really only becomes an issue these days when it's a repeated thing from the same person, and especially after it's been talked about and nothing changes. If you've shown a lack of capacity of change or no interest in it, wellllllllll
I'm in a liminal space I realize, between irrationally accepting "yes everything is my fault whatever you're accusing me of I absolutely did because I am intrinsically Bad" and "No how the fuck is that my fault? Why are you pushing your feelings and problems onto me when I have my own shit to deal with? How dare you?! How FUCKING dare you?!?! I should see you torn limb from limb like I wish to do to my abusers because you're doing the same bullshit that they did to me SO I'M DEFENDING MYSELF AS SOMEONE SHOULD HAVE BACK THEN YOU'RE GOING TO REGRET--*bark bark bark bark*--"
It's really tiring.
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averlym · 1 year ago
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a word to the wise sometimes the only true rest is looking beyond what you thought was success
so true! adamandi is full of wise advice such as this, including: "and you'll never feel better if you - fucking die- you stupid ass!"
#these are all very good reminders. especially during exam season (i am suffering. but at least i'm working on art coursework so it's#suffering i love.) guys i have maybe a bit too many thoughts on ambrose. sculpture. and ceramics. and studio. in my art student 3d era rn#tmr it's black and white 2d so it's vincent vibes instead... anyways. in my breaks i ended up brainstorming more doodles again so..#anywaysndhfnfjfhf sorry to detract! but like these two quotes are holding my sanity intact i think.#at this point even without listening to the live soundtrack it sounds in my head so. lasting impressions i guess. every time i get anxious#' you'll never get better if you fucking die'' sounds in my head and i go ''ah yes there's a whole life outside''#continuing this ramble you ever think how vincent went from you'll never get better if you fucking die to '' first i chose my friend#ambrose for my debut :DD'' realll quick. or also how this principle worked for when he was talking to ambrose about it and then. for himself#he didn't want to get better. he wanted quincy to get better and so '' you'll never get better if you die'' held through to the end#it just wasn't a mentality that saved him... god that screws me up. so many thoughts.#anyways anon!!!! thank you for sending this :3 made my day <33 very vibes#going to put the soundtrack on and power through studio again.. :3 adamandi asks are welcomed ngl teehee#ask me stuff???#on another note sometimes it's so surreal that actors are real people... i guess the magic of theatre is that it makes the characters come#to life.. like i believe actors are real. and deserve to be treated like people. for the record. but also when consuming media and it's the#suspension of disbelief? these are Real Characters i can't believe that someone who isn't them is making these sounds and doing these things#it's so insane. incredible. idk i just have very high admiration for the cast and idk how i got here even... akshdjdhdf#<blinks> they did such a good job akdhdnfhfbgfhff ok bye#first time i swear in the actual post on this blog and not in the tags... of course
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alxclaremont · 7 months ago
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there are two wolves inside of you: one feels impending doom at the thought of tomorrow’s race. the other feels immensely hopeful that oscar will get his first win tomorrow or at the very least a mclaren 1-2. you are a formula one fan.
#i’m literally about to fucking throw up#this race doesnt even start for another 8 hours but i feel actually sick#like this is keeping me up#(yes i have a TOTALLY normal and healthy relationship with this sport)#you guys literally dont even understand the ways of which i need oscar to get his first win tomorrow#like i can literally feel it in my bones i just KNOW he can do it#like i know he can and i really feel like tomorrow is the day for it#however i am very very scared that the more i keep thinking about it and saying it the more i am jinxing it#like i’m literally imagining everything that could possibly go wrong#but i’m also beautifully imagining the way that oscar is going to get a perfect start and overtake lando (so sorry lando)#and build a big enough gap to where he can win the race#i need the mclaren pitwall to lock the fuck in today like i am nowhere near joking when i say i will start hysterically sobbing#if they fuck it up#alternatively i will start hysterically sobbing if oscar/lando wins so really theres no winning for me in that sense#but also i cannot even imagine the amount of pressure that both lando and oscar must be under right now#like i do not know how they do it because imagining it is further making me sick#me when i develop an anxious attachment style to two drivers and also an entire sport#lol#didnt have that on my 2024 bingo#anyway so im lraying to fucking god that the race goes okay because otherwise im killing myself#and i think i am perfectly valid in saying that#im also getting lunch with my two other friends who watch f1 a few hours after the race tomorrow#so regardless the race is going to be talked about but it will very much vary oh whether or not its good or bad#anyway im going to stop talking about this now because ive been doing nothing but talking about it all day#and i like genuinely need to shut the fuck up#SO i am going to hopefully go to sleep#we’ll see how this ends up going for me#lacey talks
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sapsolais · 9 months ago
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gaytobymeres · 1 year ago
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if my parents dont suspect im dating someone at this point then idk when they will
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stupidnaturals · 2 years ago
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#GAH hate not knowing how ppl feel about me#bc i used to be SUPER close friends w this person like they were ~25% of th reason i came back to my uni town after moving away last summer#and i keep texting them like ' hey we should meet up sometime! ' and they respond ' omg YES 100% i have SO much i need to catch you up on !#unfortunately i am out of town every single day. also so busy. '#and like yeah okay college very busy life very crazy. but how are you out of town every single day and also why have you NEVER reached out#and i saw them in person at target and they seemed genuinely pleased to see me! and also said something like#' we gotta hang out i have so much to tell you!! *ill* message *you* ' in a way that seemed to convey guilt at ^^ all that#but then how in the WORLD do you happen to be driving out of town immediately after the one event i know we'll both be going to???#and also casually gracing over the fact i also mentioned getting dinner beforehand??#also i dont know any reason they wouldnt like me unless its one of those ' im autistic and didnt notice you getting fed up w me '#or if theyre just actually that busy or too anxious to see people or anxious to reach out or fucking whatever#and like even when i saw them at target they told me a bunch of stuff that i dont tthink youd say to a random acquaintance#which if they do still like me makes sense! bc we were super duper close once! but doesnt make sense if they dislike me/want me to go away#like UGH just either ask me to hang out or say yes to a hang out or tell me to fuck off already!!!!#oh and ALSO the one time we DID have plans we didnt set an exact time but they texted me at like 11 and said ok we can hang out now until 2#or they texted me at 11 and said ' i work at 2 but i dont think thats gonna be a problem also are you okay w hanging w my roomies too '#and i know their roomies so thats fine but i was like ??? WHAT shouldnt be an issue? r you gonna call off to hang out for more than 3 hrs?#or are you gonna friend break up w me so it wont take 3 hours#anyway i was like uhhh shit we didnt set a time so im actually at a tattoo place like an hour away w my roomie?#so we rescheduled for the next day when uh oh they hung out w someone who was exposed to covid so had to cancel again!#i cant think of a single reason they wouldnt like me except that they never did but we had an activity together so they were stuck w me#and they seemed genuinely happy to see me and also seem upset declining plans but like if thats true what the FUCK is happening????#anyway this was a mile long if you e read this far i love u if you have tips feel free to reply or dm me
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softmeetscreatureplz · 2 months ago
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I am so very unwell about physical affection. Also I want more of it. :<
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florida3exclamationpoints · 10 months ago
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My mom just came in my room right after I got home to be like how did it go???? What happened???? When are you going back?? How do you feel??? Are you ok???? What are your hours???? What did they say??? And I know she means well but
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#and she gets upset at me when i don't wanna talk#IM SORRY but I've been anxious about this for 3 days#the actual thing took an hour +#I had no idea what to expect going in#even tho my mom was convinced i had already gotten the job (i hadn't)#(i tried to tell her why i was unsure and she was like well im sure you got it!! but i didn't know and i HADNT YET)#YES ive been stressed about not having a job but now im stressed about HAVING a job!!!!#i want to forget it exists before i have to do things!!!!#its like she. doest understand how i cope with things#but ive explained it#and then she intrudes while im coping and gets upset at me getting upset#and talking about it while I'm trying to decompress makes me 50000x more anxious#and then she gets worried about how anxious i am#and then she thinks she needs to check on me more bc my anxiety is worse#but then i dont have a chance to decompress so the anxiety doesn't get better#and i tell her this and shes like i just wanna make sure you're ok#but shes making me less ok!!!!#just now when she came to talk about this she knocked. and actually kinda waited for an answer for once#and i didn't answer. bc i didn't wanna talk#so she COMES IN ANYWAY!!!!!!!#she knew i was in my room. she knew i wasn't sleeping bc i just got home. she just wanted to ask about it#while SHES ALSO WORKING!!!! AND DOESN'T HAVE THE TIME!!!!#idk if i didn't answer the knock on my door doesn't that suggest i dont want to talk???????#and she would say she wants to make sure im ok. which i can't argue with ig. but ive been in the house for 5 minutes#i didn't have time to kill myself. respectfully.#and ive TOLD HER i dont like to talk right after#my mental health is not at a point where i cant be trusted alone in a room for an hour and it NEVER has been#i KNOW shes my mom and she worries and she wants to take care of me i GET IT. but GODDDD!!!!!#anyway.#tw suicide mention
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alihedgie · 11 months ago
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Of all things that could possibly blow up on my art blog I was not expecting it to be my Rain World headcanons written next to little drawings of the main four iterators.
I'm not even sure what to think or say about that.
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parfaitblogs · 3 months ago
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making the bed ❀ s. reid x reader
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in which your night crumbles around you, and spencer is happy to pick up the pieces. 
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: hurt/comfort  tags: established relationship. (prior) alcohol consumption. reader is semi-drunk (but sobers up). post drinking depression. healthy alcohol information/discussion 🫡 word count: 2.1k a/n: do not read too much into this for you will begin to question why i still enjoy going clubbing. (joke...) 😄 plsss tell me if u liked this or even if u didnt thank u i love uuuuuu
Alcohol is a depressant. 
You remembered the God awful lecture your boyfriend had given you when you woke up one Sunday morning with this feeling of existential dread, and nothing to pin it to. A ramble about how alcohol can temporarily increase the body's production of dopamine and serotonin when entering, causing a worse crash of both chemicals when it leaves. Leaving you, evidently, depressed and anxious after a big night. 
You knew that. 
You also knew how quick you were to seclude within your mind when you were with people. Too many drinks and not enough social interaction tended to lead to your own isolation, sitting on the outer edge of the booth, absentmindedly playing with the charm on the end of your phone. 
The room no longer spun the way it had an hour ago. You missed when it spun. When it spun, you weren't thinking about how little you had to contribute to the conversations your friends were having. You weren't tallying up how many drinks you had already drank, then falling flat when you realised you couldn't remember, and that was a thought more horrifying than knowing it was over ten. You were fun, when the room was a carousel. 
Now, it's simply overwhelming. Loud chattering from both your table, and the surrounding ones. Clinking of glasses at the bar. A sports game on the television across the room. Balls on a pool table being dispersed for the first time in a game. Dancing feet. Music. People. So many fucking people.
Your phone buzzes against the table, and you pick it up before any of your friends could turn their heads to see where the vibrations were coming from. You figured they were too drunk to conclude it was you, anyways. Or to care. 
Spencer had texted you fifteen minutes ago to check in on you, and though it wasn't long ago, you not responding immediately in a flurry of half strung together sentences and emojis was worrying for him. That was probably why his name was now lighting up your screen, a funny photo of him mid-bite of an ice cream as his contact photo, enlarged. 
You hadn't responded for no reason other than the fact that you had no will to. Which should've been a big enough red flag to yourself that you should text him, and you should ask if he can pick you up. Thankfully, he loved to prove how well he could read you, and he was calling you anyways. 
"Hi," you mumble into the phone, angling your body away from your friends, hand held up to your other ear to block out some of the noise the best you could. 
"Hi," he parrots back to you. "You okay?"
An automatic yes manifests on your tongue, but you're quick enough to keep it to yourself before you can lie to him. Instead, you let out a quiet, "No."
He seems to have expected that answer, for he leaves no silence in between your admission and his response. "What can I do to help?" He also seems to be expecting your hesitance at asking him for anything that would require him to move, because he adds, "I can pick you up. Do you want me to pick you up?"
"Yes. Please?"
"I'm already leaving," he tells you, and you can hear his shoes against the wooden floor of his apartment to confirm that. "Did something happen? Are you safe?"
"No, nothing happened. I'm safe," you reassure him. "I started feeling sick so I stopped drinking an hour ago. Now I'm just sad."
"You remember what I told you about it being a depressant?"
"Vividly," you mutter, and while it isn't meant to be funny, you hear him huff a short laugh anyways. It makes you feel a little better. 
"It's important to know," he defends. "I'm sorry I shared important information with you."
"Mm."
Your lack of a verbal response was expected, but he still hated the sound of it regardless. You heard him sigh. "I have to hang up now. I'll be there in forty minutes. Will you be okay?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. I love you."
"Love you too."
No matter how much time had passed, your head lifted every time the door — that your group was so conveniently close to — opened, letting in a rush of cool air and sobering you up with every hit of it. 
True to his word, Spencer was entering the bar after forty minutes, face scrunching up at the sudden onslaught of noises and visual stimuli. Same boat as you, only he had not a drop of alcohol in his body. At least you weren't crazy about it being overstimulating. 
"This is why I don't go to bars," he says once he's approached your booth, and you had stood up next to you, his hand finding an automatic place on your waist. 
"It's usually not this bad," you tell him, but he decides not to ask you anything else upon hearing just how exhausted your voice sounds. You're grateful for that.
The goodbye to your friends is quick, Spencer rattling off a lie about him needing you home for he had work early the next morning, and you only had one key to the apartment. Even the friends who knew that wasn't the case didn't comment on it, and you made a pointless mental note to thank them for it later. You knew you wouldn't. 
The drive home was even faster. Silence, aside from the rush of the wind from your slightly cracked window as Spencer drove, that helped the sick feeling in your stomach from the alcohol you had consumed. 
It didn't seem to help the hollowness of your chest, though.
You weren't sure if anything would, really. A chemical imbalance in your brain — even one as temporary as the deflation from being drunk — was hard to fix without medication. It would go away, yes. But then you would make the mistake of drinking once more, and you would find yourself back in this brain peeling predicament. 
You showered alone. Despite Spencer's offer to join you, and your own personal desire for him to be there with you. It didn't help your fogged mind at all, and you were exiting the bathroom feeling like you had retreated further into your bones. Every movement felt clunky, your skin a heavy coat to your skeleton, restricting your movement down to short shuffles and barely lifted arm movements. 
He was reading when you reentered your bedroom, and you've never seen him put a book and his glasses back on his bedside table faster. He looked visibly tired. Keeping himself awake a seemingly difficult struggle, that you could feel your body heading towards to as well. 
"Hey," he says as you climb into the bed, and he's very patient as you figure out what position you want your bodies in. Head on his chest, but next to him, you had decided on, and his fingers entangled into your hair.
"Hi," you mumble, staring up at the ceiling, counting brush strokes of the paint, as if it were possible to.
"Penny for your thoughts?"
You huff at the phrase, tilting your head upwards so your eyes could land on him. "Do you have a penny?"
He pauses, then angles his head closer towards yours. "Okay, kiss for your thoughts?"
"That'll just distract me."
"Is that what you want?"
You should say no. Arguably the last thing you should be doing when you're sad is let intimacy with your boyfriend distract you. But then again, you're not the best advocate for healthy coping mechanisms anyways. 
"Maybe."
"Maybe?" he muses, and his lips brush against yours. Your heart flutters. 
"I don't really know what I want," you settle on telling him, honestly. "I want my brain to shut up."
His body deflates beneath you, and you feel guilt chip away up your spine at the killing of the less depressing atmosphere. 
"Sorry," you mumble.
"No. It's good. Be honest with me," he reassures you, quietly. His fingers tap at your scalp, "What's going on up here?"
"I'll cry if I try to verbalise it."
"Crying's good for you, you know," he hums.
"I'm pretty sure I still have eyeliner in my waterline. I'll just stain your sheets," you retort. 
"Yeah, probably. That's fine."
You're silent for a few moments, gathering your thoughts in your brain the best you could despite yourself, before you sit up, his hand dropping to the bed beside you.
"I just don't like being... here? Out? I don't know. I'm just really sick of being sad every time I drink. Is there something wrong with me? Did you get sad whenever you drank? Everyone else I know loves going out for drinks because they have fun and they're giggly drunks, or they're clingy drunks. And if I drink too much then I'm a fucking sad drunk, and I'm the only person I know that gets that way. I want to be normal."
He's silent your entire rant, and then some, waiting for your heaving chest to slow, having caught the few tears that slipped down your cheeks. You were grateful — you needed that time.
He reaches a hand out, and you let him tug you back down to the bed, slotting your body atop his own, just so he could see you properly. 
"To answer your question, no, I didn't get sad when I drank," he says, brushing your hair out of your face, before his hands rest on either side of your face. "But I wasn't really happy, either. I just talked more."
"You already talk a lot."
His lips twitch. "I do. Double whatever you think my worst is, and that was me drunk. Focus on the part where I said I wasn't a happy drunk, please."
"But you weren't sad. So there is something wrong with me."
"No, there's not. Alcohol is a depressant," he punctuates his words with a kiss to your nose, which you gratefully accept despite your emotions. "Are you willing to give up alcohol as a whole?" 
"My friends will think I'm boring, then."
He hesitates in his response, but ultimately settles on asking, "Do you think I'm boring because I don't drink?"
"No. Obviously not. And you have a real reason for not drinking, so—"
"—and being sad isn't a real reason to not drink?"
Taken aback by his sudden sternness, you go quiet, breath hitching within your throat. He was right, ultimately. No reason is reason enough. You knew that. 
Sensing your discomfort at his tone, he expels a breath of air and lowers his hands down to your hips. His voice drops to something a little less harsh, as he murmurs, "You are allowed to not want to drink alcohol if you don't like the way it makes you feel. If your friends think you're boring for that, then they're not worth it."
You silently nod your head, beginning to curse your emotional regulators. For while you had kept your tears at bay for the vast majority of this conversation, it seemed all it took was the gentle rubbing of circles onto your hip bones, and a fact checked piece of life advice from your boyfriend to make you cry. 
"Sorry," you sniffle, dropping your head to the crook of his neck to hide your newly tear stricken face. 
"Crying's good for you," he repeats his earlier words, and feels you nod your head. "You don't have to decide tonight. I'd encourage you not to, actually. You're technically still intoxicated."
"I'm sober," you protest, weakly. 
"Okay, honey." He's only agreeing with you to wane any further argument. "I don't think your friends will think you're boring, though, if that's any help."
"I don't think they will either."
He nods his head, and you're relaxing against him a little more. 
"Are you just trying to not be the only loser who doesn't drink?" you mumble, voice muffled by his skin.
"You've caught me."
He relishes in the laugh that leaves your lips, and he places the gentlest of kisses on the side of your head, which prompts you to lift it to look at him again. 
"You're not a loser for not drinking," you say, and his lips pull into a smile. 
He leans his head up, brushing his lips against yours, despite the mix of mint toothpaste and alcohol on your tongue. "I know. You wouldn't be either."
"I know."
your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡
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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months ago
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Helper:Christmas
Arsenal Women x Child!Reader
Summary: Christmas with Guppy
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"I...I don't understand. What's...What's going on?"
"Just keeping holding it up," Codi whispers to Rosa, who looks like she's about to lower the tinsel that she's holding up.
"I don't get it. What's going on?"
"We're decorating the tree."
"No, I get that. But why are we holding it up in a line?"
On her other side, Leah huffs. "Because Lia's raising a kid who doesn't like mess and gets freaked out by Christmas trees. Ow! Lia!"
Lia's elbow, none too kindly, digs a bit further into Leah's ribs.
"Don't make fun of her!" She snaps, imaginary hackles raised in annoyance at Leah's dismissal before turning to Rosa to explain, much more kindly. "Guppy...She gets a bit overwhelmed about this kind of stuff and these cretins like to go overboard until the tree's a big mess. So, Guppy gets to pick the theme and then we all decorate. Leah's exaggerating."
"I'm just saying! Maybe exposure therapy will be good for her! I love her, Lia, I do. You know that. But you have to admit, this-"
Lia whips her beads at Leah in annoyance.
"Alrigh! Alright! I get it! Sorry!"
Lia's not finished though as she points to practically everyone in line in turn. "None of you are allowed to talk about that kind of stuff while y/n's in the room too, do you understand? She's sensitive and I'm not letting any of you make it worse!"
"I think they get it," Mario intervenes quickly," No one wants to make her feel bad."
Rosa's kind of glad that Mariona did. She's never seen Lia angry before. Annoyed, yes. Overtired, yes. But never angry. Not truly anyway but she's heard how protective Lia gets over you.
You're not really an oddball. You're not overwhelmingly weird either. But something that Rosa's noted is that you're very particular. She's never met a child so particular in her life. You like things done in a certain way.
You get all fidgety and anxious if you're not allowed to do things in the way you want and tend to start things over if it hasn't gone perfectly. You flick the lights on and off twice in whatever room you leave and you always knock on doors twice.
Rosa's seen you on the team bus, getting Lia to buckle and unbuckle your seatbelt twice over just before the bus sets off to whatever away match they need to get to.
You're just...
Different.
It's clear that Lia knows that too and a lot of her energy is put into making sure no one makes you think that you don't fit in.
"Alright!" Kim comes in holding your hand and from what Rosa strains to hear from Mario and Lia's conversation, this is normal too.
Kim helps you pick out the theme.
You both whisper together, Kim clearly going along with your childish wonder and happiness. She crouches down at your side as you look between Rosa and Kyra's tinsel.
Rosa's holding a red one and Kyra's holding a gold one.
Kyra wiggles it enticingly in your face but your features all scrunch up at once as you move away from Kim to take Rosa's hand and then to choose Codi and her matching green tinsel as well.
"Alright," Kim says," And what about baubles?"
"Er..." You look at the rest of the team and all the baubles they hold up to you, suddenly overwhelmed with choices.
You look at Leah's glittery baubles and shake your head.
"Not-Not glitter ones."
Then you catch sight of Lia and Mario, immediately breaking away from Kim to go crashing into them.
"Mummy!" You gasp," You bought the special beads from home!"
Wound around what looks to be an old piece of cardboard, is a long string of silver beads.
"I did," Lia says," Because our tree is too little for them this year. I thought we could use them on the Arsenal tree."
You nod, head bobbing up and down happily before you also take Mario's hand, dragging her into your little group of chosen people without even looking at the bauble in her hands.
"Nah!" Leah complains," This is so unfair! Why can't I be chosen?"
"Because you clearly didn't choose a good bauble this year," Beth teases," Not like me."
"Not Beth's bauble either," You say to Kim.
"Wait...What? Come on, come back!"
Decorating the tree is a team effort because while you may have been the one to make your selection, you're much too small to decorate it all by yourself and Rosa's found herself with you on her shoulders as you strain to put a candy cane onto the tree.
"Careful," Lia warns her," Keep straight or she'll fall."
"Rosa's doing fine," Steph says," And it's not like Guppy is going to start throwing herself around. She's very responsible."
"I am, Mummy!" You say," Very responsible! I helped Mrs Gina find the missing gluestick lid yesterday!"
So, Lia ends up worrying from a distance and insists on being the one to lift you up so you can put the star on the tree before letting you down and leading you from the room without any more preamble.
"What's happening now?" Rosa whispers as it looks like everyone starts sitting down on the floor in a little circle that she has no option but to join.
"Lia's been doing this since Guppy was born," Caitlin explains," We're getting presents now. It was pretty cute the first time, little gifts in baby y/n's hands. It was her handprint the year she was born and then it was like little keychains? She's old enough to give them out by herself now."
The present Rosa gets is kind of soft and squishy and it doesn't rattle or anything when she holds it up to her ear and shakes.
"No opening until Christmas!" You say once everything's been given out and everyone's attention is on you," Because that ruins the surprise! You can only open them on Christmas!"
The little Arsenal teddy bear you got her sits on Rosa's desk for the rest of the season.
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liinos · 2 years ago
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I need the phenomenon of metaverse concerts explained to me... like I assume they're free (I HOPE they're free dear god) but I feel like the whole Point and Experience of the concert is the live aspect and being around other people who feel the same way as you which you don't get in metaverse? Also like what are you getting from that that you can't get from a YouTube video of said concert like it doesn't make sense to me why are we trying to make it a thing😭
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helioooss · 7 months ago
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midnight rain
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synopsis: sana and y/n used to be the top celebrity couple in the entertainment industry. over a decade after a nasty break up, they meet again at a jimmy kimmel show
w/c: 5.2k
warnings: mentions of drug use and overdose, read at your own risk, angst with a happy ending
a/n: first story in ten years, creative brain’s a bit rough these days, haven’t been on tumblr since its golden days. also not proofread. hope ur all well and enjoy this one :)
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
Your heart was beating out of your chest, each thump pushing you further you into a downward spiral as your clammy palms tapped against your bouncing knee. Leaning against the chair, you refused to make eye contact with anyone — the worried look on your face was enough to push them away, anyway. In a situation like this, it would be strange to not feel anxious.
After all, it had been over ten years since you let the love of your life go and agreeing to see her on live television was a decision that you have been regretting since the day you said yes.
Two minutes, you blew a breath out as you stared up at the monitor in front of you.
"Welcome to the Tonight Show!" Jimmy trailed off with a smile, the audience in front of him clapping as they yelled in excitement. "Thank you for being here, tonight we have two very special guests —"
A staff member tapped your shoulder, pulling you out of your messy thoughts with his apologetic face. "Y/N, it's time."
Uncrossing your legs, you nodded your head with a shy smile. The fact that you could hear your own heartbeat amongst all the noise made you uneasy, so you stood there for a moment longer; wondering what Minatozaki Sana looked like in person.
You haven't been this nervous since the world found out about your relationship with her.
Taking a deep breath, you walked out with your heart in your throat. You bowed your head at Jimmy and waved your hand at the audience members, screaming can be heard from the other end; your name being chanted, their anticipation shining through from seeing you on television again after what seemed like an eternal hiatus.
It would be a lie to say it didn't feel good to relive what was once your life like, but you don't regret disappearing from the spotlight.
You were happier now, away from all the awards and glory, you think.
As if you were in a movie, time suddenly stopped as she emerged from the other side in the black Yves Saint Laurent dress you bought her all those years ago — brown hair flowing freely past her shoulders as she mirrored your gestures towards the crowd. Watching her fondly, you were reminded of the moonlight that illuminated the surface of the endless ocean; truly God's masterpiece in its purest form. You were frozen in your spot as you stared at her with the utmost adoration and respect.
Then, she finally settled on your eyes and suddenly you felt like a kid again.
"Hello stranger," she said with a sly smile, taking the seat next to yours with the crowd going wild at your first interaction. "Hi Jimmy, thank you for having me."
"Yeah, I'm gonna pretend that you didn't acknowledge Y/N first," he teased, making her and everyone else chuckle. "Anyway, wow, you look wonderful. And so do you, Y/N!”
You grinned, nodding as you try to remember the rough script on how the conversations would go in your head. "Thank you for having me back here, Jimmy, I appreciate it."
"It's the both of you this time," he raised his eyebrow suggestively. "Which is amazing, the world hasn't seen you together in twelve years. Am I right?"
"Yes," she looked at you, heaving out a breath as she laughed. "Sorry, it just feels so weird to see you again."
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
Suddenly, you were pulled back into past; during the last time you ever saw her in the alleyway behind Stanley's; your favourite getaway restaurant during midnights. Every now and then, you remembered it; the pain from losing her always came back like it just happened and you wonder if you've really moved on.
"We can't keep doing this," she said with tears welling in her eyes. "It's so hard, Y/N, and as much as I love you, our relationship is mentally breaking me."
You shook your head in desperation, cupping her cheeks with both of your hands. "That's what they want, you know that, our fans want us to break up. You don't have to do this, baby, I'm sure there's another way. We can talk to both of our managements —"
She sighed, pulling away from you. Both physically and emotionally. "I've spoken to mine and they respect my decision.
You paused, repeating the words in your head to make sure you heard her right. It felt like she just stabbed you in the back as you gawked at her with defeat in your eyes, shoulders slumping while piecing everything together. "The last time you spoke to them about our relationship was over a month ago, and you're only talking to me about this now? Is that how you've been feeling this whole time?"
Her tears rolled down her face, understanding the betrayal you felt. "It's not just the fans, Y/N, it's literally everything. I barely get to talk to you and see you. How can we both work it out when we can't even create time for each other?"
"I'll do anything for you, my love, just say the word and I will cancel everything - you know that! Every project, every interview, every shoot, literally anything —"
"No, I stand by my decision," she said firmly. "Perhaps, when you and I have achieved all our dreams...then we can work it out. This isn't the right time for us —"
"Four fucking years, Sana," you bellowed angrily, fists clenching. There was pain written on her face from hearing you call her by her name. "From the very beginning, we have been there for each other. What the fuck am I supposed to do without you?"
"Let me go — we'll both be happier without each other."
"No," you shook your head, tugging her closer towards you. However, she resisted. "Please, please don't do this. Don't leave me like this. What happened to forever?"
Her tears rolled down her cheek at the sound of your defeated voice. As much as it hurt her, she had to make up a lie on the spot. "I don't love you anymore. I — there's someone else."
Just like that, all of your hopes and dreams for the future shattered. Without her, the life you built meant nothing.
She really wanted you out of her life and there was nothing you could do about it. Shoulders slumping, you looked down - the thunderous roar of the oncoming storm startled her whilst it had no effect on you. "Okay, I see what you're doing. It's going to start raining, you should go."
She doesn't know whether it was the coldness in your voice or the wind, nonetheless, she shivered. "Y/N -"
"Leave, that's what you wanted, right?" you looked up at her, eyebrows furrowing. "I don't understand what I've done to you to justify what you're doing. I know I don't deserve any of this. If you're going to leave, leave now and never come back. And when I say never, I mean it, Minatozaki Sana."
She nodded her head, turning on her heel with a sob. Tiny specks of rain began to pour down on you, the rest of your world going down with it. You watched her walk away from you as if it were the easiest thing - did she ever really love you?
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
"I can't pinpoint whether that's a good thing or not, but considering I'm your ex, I'd say that's a bad thing," you joked, rolling your eyes playfully.
She laughed once more, shaking her head at you. You swear that sound never failed to put you on a pedestal. "It's just surreal, I haven't seen you in so long. You look younger than I can remember."
"You never reply to any of my messages," you put your hands up at her as Jimmy bursted into another set of laughter. You didn't know where the confidence was coming from, but you were relieved you were feeling something else other than being constantly nervous. "I'm joking, I don't have her number. I'm sure you don't mind giving it to me after the show, right?"
"God, get a room," Jimmy whined, turning you into a blushing mess. "Before you both propose to each other, Sana, let's talk about the dress you're wearing tonight. Somebody may or may have not told me that you're wearing something very special."
"We'll talk about my number after the show," Sana turned to you, winking; making the heat rise on your face. "Yes Jimmy, this dress is probably my favourite one out of everything - I don't wear it very often, obviously, but this beautiful Yves Saint Laurent piece was a gift from Y/N thirteen years ago."
You stared at her in awe, the way she spoke with so much grace never failed to impress you. The years had done her a favour - life always seemed easier on her than it was on you.
She left you behind, after all.
"Look, I'm just glad you kept it because this archival piece cost me a lot back then," you admitted with the biggest grin on your face as you looked at anyone but her. You couldn't place what it was about her that struck you so forcefully, but you simply couldn't take your eyes off her and you somewhat needed to feel in control of your emotions. "It was our first anniversary, I had just gotten a pretty decent check from Little Women and I wanted to give her something special."
"You got a big check in twenty-nineteen and the first thing you thought of was a dress for your girlfriend instead of a Lamborghini to flaunt on Instagram?" Jimmy scoffed as you and Sana giggled at him. "Get out of here!"
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
Your anniversary was coming up and frankly, you wanted to give her the world. You were panicking inside; with the amount of things you've gotten her, none of them felt special. You hummed as you sat in Chou Tzuyu's kitchen, patiently waiting for her to acknowledge you.
"You know, if you weren't my friend, I'd have you sent out of my house already," she grumbled in a playful way. "Seriously, I'm telling you that she will love that Saint Laurent dress by Tom Ford."
You sighed, shaking your head. "It's our anniversary though, it's special. Do you think giving her a dress and taking her to Hawaii are good enough?"
"Jesus Y/N, that woman looks at you with stars in her eyes — she will love anything you get her. If you ask her to marry you right now, I believe she will say yes in less than a heartbeat."
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
The show was going very well, you felt relieved as time went by, and you were actually enjoying the things you found out about Sana after you had broken up.
She went on to become a successful solo artist and fashion model after Twice's disbandment, and you couldn't be any prouder. It had always been her dream and you always knew she was made to be a superstar - you prayed for her to achieve it, even if it meant she would be harder to reach.
You were able to open up about your past; the dark hole you fell into after the breakup — all the women, the legal troubles and the projects that failed because of your behaviour; it wasn't easy to talk about, but somehow, the way she intensely listened made all the fear go away. It would be an understatement to say you haven't felt this comfortable in years — just watching her talk about her passions put you in awe.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
You were barely conscious in a suite at The Ritz in Paris, an unlit cigarette resting on your mouth as you scrambled to find the lighter in your pocket. The only thing illuminating the room was that stupid lamp on the office table. And you hated it, you really did, because it was the same model she broke the last time you were here with her.
You felt so warm - breathing heaved and beads of sweat forming on your forehead. And you laughed to yourself because it was pathetic, really. You were all alone in the city of love because the love of your life decided she wanted to move on from you.
And suddenly, the door opened with Jongin appearing from behind it.  "Are you fucking kidding me?"
"Kai..." you could barely mutter his name as the world spun around you. "You're here!"
He knelt in front of you, forcing you to sit up. He tapped both of your cheeks worriedly. "Look at me, open your fucking eyes!"
You cupped his face back with a chuckle, everything seemingly softer around the edges. "Eyes open."
"I need you to tell me how much of these pills you had and when," he dangled the two bags in front of you but all you could think of was her face; the way her eyes lit up whenever you told her you loved her and that smile of hers that never failed to put you in a spiral. "Momo, I need you to stop freaking out and call an ambulance right now."
You were lying against Jongin's chest, your vision blacking in and out.
"We're at the Windsor suite at The Ritz, we have called the hotel medic and they're coming," you heard someone frantically say. "Y/N looks really unwell. Please hurry, please!"
There was buzzing all around you, and you smiled to yourself before giving in and closing your eyes. "Happy 27th birthday to me."
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
"But how are you doing now?" Jimmy asked with a sympathetic look in his face.
"I..." you looked down, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. "I don't think I know who I am anymore after everything. I regret everything that I've done - all the fame and the money, I don't think it was worth losing myself over the superficial things. Then again, rehab and lots of therapy helped me a lot, you know, I always thought I wouldn't make it past 27...but here I am. All thanks to everyone who held me together."
Everyone began clapping in the audience, your cheeks reddening at all the attention. Despite being a nervous wreck, you managed to let out a small smile. You could feel her eyes on you, yet you refused to look again.
"Would you change what happened in the past?"
Deep down, you were aware of the answer to his question. It'll always be a yes. Everything that you have now wasn't worth more than her.  As ridiculous as it sounded, you would've given it all up for her; without her in your life, it always felt like you achieved it for nothing.
It was supposed to be her and you against the world. As much as it sounded wrong, your love for her will always be greater than your dreams.
"Yes, I would've," you pursed your lips, looking down at your roughed up running sneakers. Compared to her look, yours was too casual. If you were younger, you would've been on the same level as her. You didn't belong to each other now, what else was different about her these days? "For most of you who didn't know, the world hated that her and I were together. Everyone criticised each move we did. We were young...really young, it felt suffocating to hear the same things from the public but god, I loved her so much. To this day, I'm firm on my decision that I would've given up on my dreams for her if it meant I could keep her."
You were truly not over what you had, but with everything that has happened after that, you don't think you could let her in again. Not now.
Not when you were still a mess.
She placed her hand on top of yours, gently squeezing it. "If I knew that letting the world find us would ruin what we had, I would've kept you a secret," she paused, looking at you with pure adoration plastered on her face. "For as long as I could have."
Jimmy nodded his head, satisfied with your answers. "Well, that's it for tonight's show everyone. Please give a huge round of applause to our dear Y/N and Sana!"
You stood up, stepping closer towards Jimmy as you wrapped his arms around him, whispering. "Thanks heaps for having us tonight, never thought we'd cross paths again."
He was smiling as if he understood how it felt. "Anytime, Y/N, my wife and I were big fans back in the day."
You didn't respond, eyes following her instead. There was a sudden sharp ache in your chest as you watched her walk away from you, not bothering to look back.
Jimmy noticed the change in your emotions, squeezing your arm in comfort. "Hey, she'll be backstage for another half an hour. Don't let this chance slip away."
You heaved out a sigh, a defeated look on your face. Perhaps, her actions were all for the show, but god, her face said it all — she missed you as much as you missed her. "I can't, Jimmy. I'm a mess. I think I'll always be a mess. Do you think I could leave without her seeing me or knowing about it?"
There was surprise written on his face at your question. "I thought you guys did great out there, don't you wanna rekindle it?"
"No," you frowned. "I still love her...but its been over a decade and a lot has changed. She rejected me the last time I saw her. She seems happier - I'm still working on myself. I can't risk it."
"I understand," he smiled at you with sympathy. "Come, I'll get one of my producers to show you out."
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
"Sana is here with her rumoured girlfriend," Lisa rasped out, closing the door behind her as she leaned against it - eyes wide and all that. "How are we gonna hide her from Y/N? She's literally sitting outside."
Jennie had horror written all over her face as soon as her eyes landed on your messy face - wonton soup smeared all over your mouth. "Actually...Y/N is here."
Lisa gasped at the sight of you. "I thought you went to order more drinks at the bar!"
You shook your head, standing up. "No, I ordered it through a QR code like I said I would. Where is she?"
"Y/N," Jennie held your hand to stop you. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"I'll be fine, Nini," you smiled reassuringly, rubbing your thumb against her skin. "I just wanna see what she looks like now."
"It's been seven years, Y/N," Lisa deadpanned, arms crossed and still blocking the door out of the private dining area. "She has moved on and so have you."
"We all know that's a lie."
With a mask of disappointment in her eyes, she took a step ahead to get out of your way, her shoulders slumped as she shook her head disappointingly. "This is going to pull you back a hundred times worst."
And it did. You wished you had listened to Lisa because as soon as Sana's eyes landed on yours, her smile faltered and turned into a worried frown. "Not now, Y/N, talk to me when you're sober. And in private."
"I am sober, Sana," you whispered frozen in place, a pang of pain rushing through every nerve end in your body. “Can we talk, please?”
She wouldn’t even look at you. “If you have anything important to say, I don’t want to hear it.”
You felt sick, stomach twisting in more ways than one and a sudden onset of frustration washed over you. “How could you be so cruel?”
She was once the constellations you admired, now the moon weeps at how she dimmed the brightness within you.
“We’re in public!”
“Nobody fucking knows us here,” your frail attempt at choking up your anger was visibly failing. “You know what? Fuck this, whatever. Have a nice life.”
“Y/N, wait,” she seemed taken aback at your outburst, quickly standing up to trail behind you.
“Fuck you, Sana.”
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
The days that followed after your first public appearance became a blur. You were all over the news again, this time, they were all positive things about you (according to your publicists). Many old friends from the industry have been trying to reach out, some wanted to meet up for their own good - however, most were just glad to see you alive and well.
Since your hiatus, you have been away from the public eye; all of your social media accounts remained stagnant. Even the sleaziest paparazzi companies couldn't figure out where you were.
After all, you were and still are one of the biggest names on the industry.
"Here goes nothing," you said as you tapped on the 'share' button. It was a selfie of you in your bedroom - your bookshelf and art collection on the background. The caption was a simple 'this is 34'.
You closed your eyes as you inhaled a deep breath; it was your first post in nearly three years and you feel absolutely terrified. They were definitely going to judge the way you've aged, the books you read and a lot more other things that you should be prepared for and be used to - but you weren't.
Not long after, your phone rang; interrupting (thankfully) you from your dilemma. It was your mum on the other end. "Hey ma," you greet with a grin.
"Your dad, siblings and I wish you the happiest birthday today, my darling. Will you come and see us this year?" she asked with hope in her voice.
"Ma, I was just there last week," you playfully rolled your eyes. "Besides, if I come now, they will figure out where our family home is. And eventually, the public will find out where I live too."
"I know, I know," she hummed. "But you've been celebrating your birthday alone for years now. Why can't you invite your old friends? I'm sure Jongin and Momo and Lisa and Jennie and Jisoo and Jimin and Jungkook and —"
"Okay, okay," you chuckled. "I'm sure they all miss me too but I don't think I'm ready to let people in again. They're all living very busy lives. I enjoy my solitude right now and —" the sound of ringing from your front door cut you off, startled, you moved the phone away from your ear to make sure you weren't hearing things (again). "Uh, there's someone at the front. Must be one of my book deliveries — well, I hope."
"Aren't you gonna open the door?"
"No, why would I? Then they'll find out I live here." However, the doorbell rang once more. "Oh god, what if I accidentally put my location on my Instagram? Ma, I'll call you back."
"Y/N, it's —"
"Bye, I love you!"
You quickly hung up and turned your phone off before padding across your camera room to see who the person on the other side of the door was.
Your breath hitches at the sight of your ex-girlfriend patiently standing outside with a birthday cake on her hand. After a month of not seeing her, your shoulders slumped into a more relaxed state as you take another deep breath; pressing the red button.
"Sana?" you said with hesitation through the speaker. "You have red hair?"
"Hi Y/N," she waved at the camera. Damn that smile. "Happy birthday, please let me in before anyone sees. And yes, I had to dye it for a shoot."
You cleared your throat. "Uh, I'm coming," you walked towards the front door with your lips tucked behind your upper teeth. You pull the wooden door open, revealing the fiery-haired beauty on the other side. Your heart hammers against your chest and your fingers visibly shake as you step away to let her in. "It suits you."
"Thank you," she smiled shyly, looking around your place. "This is a lovely home, Y/N."
"Come," you took the cake off her hands as you walk towards the open kitchen with a view of the forest surrounding your house. "Pretty bold of you to assume caramel is still my favourite."
She frowned. "Is it not?"
You laughed. "No, no, it still is." As soon as you set the cake on the counter, you looked up to meet her gaze. "How did you find me?"
"Your parents," she quickly tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, awkwardly wrapping her arms around her loose cardigan. "I called to see how they were doing."
"And why's that?" you curiously raised an eyebrow, attempting to kill the assumption that she missed you in your head.
She took a step closer towards the counter — the only thing separating you away from her. "Because I wanted to find you," she paused, biting her lip. "After the interview, you disappeared. Just like that. No goodbye, no nothing. Why?"
"Why not?" your tone made her flinch, reminding her of the same coldness you showed her in that alleyway.
"We were doing so well...the interview, I thought you would maybe want to catch up —"
"I did, then I remembered how you broke my heart and then many other thoughts came along after that. Remember when you told me there was someone —"
"An obvious lie, Y/N, there was only you."
A sigh escaped your lips as you avoid her eyes. "For years, I made myself believe that it was true just so I could hate you. And not even a year later, Sana, not even a year, you began dating someone else. A fucking CEO out of all people — a guy who was probably busier than most of us combined; that was such a massive slap in the face considering you told me it wasn't working because of our schedules."
"It was —"
You raised a finger, stopping her. "No, I told you to leave and never come back. I told you that, do you remember?"
"I do," she tilted her head carefully, gaze holding that same familiar hurt all those years ago. "I do, and that's the sole reason I refused to knock on your door again for a decade - no matter how much I begged myself to. I couldn't bring myself to, anyway, not after I hurt you."
"So why are you here?" you asked, voice strained.
"Because I'm still deeply in love with you after all these years, because I believe you're the love of my life and I still want to grow old with you. And I want to love you again if you'll let me, Y/N, please. I love you, that's why I'm here.”
You looked up to find tears pooling in Sana's eyes, she turned away before wiping them away with her fingers. All you could hear was the drumming coming from your chest, your head all over the place once again.
You remembered it so vividly, the moment you wanted to marry her...the cherry red box that was sitting untouched in your safe after all these years. And it hurt.
"Say something, please," she sniffled, pleading you with her eyes as she placed her hand on top of yours - her cold skin against yours now lingering for a moment too long.
"Look at me, Sana," you exasperated, arms flinging wide open. "Look at the mess I am. I've been to rehab more than I can count my fingers. I ruined my own reputation and I hurt so many people along the way. There were days where I could barely breathe, days where I wanted it all to stop. And those days still come every now and then. I have pushed everyone away - even my own family. There's a barrier between me and all of the people I love, the gap will always remain because of the things I've done. And you say you want me?"
"I want you, chaos and all. I have loved you all these years...what's so different about now?"
"Do you know how long has it been since our break up?" you scoffed, pinching the bridge of your nose to stop the tears from coming. "You are in love with the idea of me, not who I am."
"Then let me unravel you once more, Y/N, this is all I'm asking for. I know I walked away when you needed me the most and I'm so fucking sorry, I live with that guilty everyday - god, I was so worried. I didn't sleep for a year when we were 27 because I didn't want to wake up to find out you were dead like everyone else would say. I should've reached out then because I knew that I couldn't live this lifetime without you. I didn't want to, not if you weren't in it. I ask myself why I didn't, but I can never find the right answer. All I know is I'm here now, and I'm never gonna let you slip away ever again."
Your walls began to crumble at her intimate confession. This time, you took both of her hands under yours, unable to stop yourself now. "I was going to marry you but you didn't stick long enough for me to do that."
"W-what?" she stammered, her voice breaking. "You were?"
It felt as if there was a knot wrapping your heart and your chest together, squeezing in a way that it almost hurt to breathe. There were so many thoughts flying through your mind, a million of what would've, could've and should've beens.
She unexpectedly collided her body against yours, making you stumble in your feet. Your hands luckily gripped the edge of the counter, balancing her and you together. Her arms snaked around your waist, engulfing you in a tight embrace as she whispered a million apologies.
"I'm so sorry," she cried, pushing you away with her hands. "Oh my god, how did I fuck this up so bad? I love you so much, why?"
"We both were fuck ups, weren't we?" you chuckled through the tears flowing down your cheeks. "Too young to know how cruel the world was."
"Will you please let me in again, Y/N? Let me fix this. I want you and I want us again. I don't care what they all think.”
"I don't deserve you, Sana, I think I'll only end up hurting you. I've been alone for so long now that if you asked me what love was like, I would only be able to mutter your name and remember what ours was like."
"Like the way I hurt you?" she croaked out, intertwining her fingers with yours - thumb rubbing gentle circles against your cold skin. "We'll work through it, together. I know what I'm walking into, I'm not as naive as I used to be. It won't be easy, but I love you. And I can't let this go - I'll never love again if it's not you."
You braced your hands on her hips, pulling her again. You welcomed her in, arms wrapped around her body - never wanting to let go. You stayed like this for a while; the comfortable silence filling all the missing puzzle pieces in your life. "I'm scared."
"I know," she sighed, rubbing your back with her palms. "I'm here now."
For years, you were lost. But not anymore. She was here now and you were home. Again.
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weird-is-life · 10 months ago
Text
Shouldn't I want you?
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Summary: Spencer lets you break up with him, thinking he is not enough for you
Words: 2.1k
Warnings: angst, happy ending, arguments, mentions of ice-cream, lots of tears, swear words, use of y/n and pet names, mentions of Spencer being in prison
----------------------------------------------------
Spencer has been acting weird lately. And you don't know why. He's been so distant. Making different excuses on why he couldn't make it to the dates.
He's also started texting you less and less. And the calls just seem forced from your side, like he doesn't even want to speak with you while away on cases.
It's honestly breaking your heart, and maybe that's Spencer's plan. To just break your heart so you would break up with him.
It's making you so anxious that you wait everyday for the text from him that will say 'It's over. I'm breaking up with you.' But it doesn't come, and you don't know what to think of it. You don't even know why would he want to break up. You don't think that you've done anything wrong, and you are very certain that Spencer hasn't done anything wrong either. This whole thing is just so unusual.
On the one hand, Spencer is almost ghosting you, but on the other hand he doesn't want to break up? You are so confused about the whole situation.
You are crying over the break-up that hasn't even happened yet, watching your tv with a big bowl of ice cream in your lap. Spencer's supposed to come home today from a case, but you know he's not going to come to your apartment. He hasn't done that in the last few weeks, not since he's started being so distant.
So you sit in a pit of your tears, cheesy rom-coms and a bucket of ice cream. Suddenly, there's a knock on your door, and looking at the clock you know exactly who it is.
You panic, you didn't expect him to come. You quickly wipe your tears away, and hide the ice cream in the freezer. You know that you look puffy anyways as you open the door with a big sigh and a fake smile.
Spencer, of course, sees right through it.
"Hi- what's wrong?" Spencer immediately asks with a frown. He pushes you gently out of the doorway, and steps inside too as he closes the door.
"N-nothing," you lie, trying to force a smile on your face, "what...what are you doing here?"
A quick flash of hurt and confusion passes over Spencer's face, "I wanted to see you."
You suck in a shaky breath,"oh."
"Oh?" Spencer asks, baffled. "Seriously sweetheart, what's wrong?"
"Don't-Don't call me that," you whisper, eyes on the ground.
"What?" Spencer's eyes go wide, "I shouldn't call you sweetheart?"
You sigh, and look up at Spencer. He looks so lost by what you mean, and for a split of a second you think good, let him be confused. You've been confused for the last few weeks because of him. But then you remember that it's Spencer, still very much the Spencer you love.
"Yes, you shouldn't," you sniffle a little, "because it's only hurting me more."
"I-" Spencer starts.
"Spencer, just let me finish. I think that we both know that you don't want to be in a relationship with me anymore. So please Spencer, let's just not do this anymore. I can't keep going on like this, it's-it's just too much. It hurts too much," you say, your cheeks wet with tears yet again.
Spencer stays quiet, it's actually one of the rare times that he doesn't know what to say, and it just breaks your heart even more.
"Y-you won't even say anything? No reason why?" your voice breaks in the middle of the sentence. But looking at Spencer's teary eyes and completely shut mouth, you know, you two are done.
"I-It's over, Spencer. Please just go, you can come take your things some other day," you don't even wait for him to say anything. You go open the door and look anywhere, but him while he slowly leaves.
You don't have the courage to look at him. You hear him sniffle, but don't look. You can't see his broken face, it would be even worse than it already is.
Spencer leaves, and you slam the door shut behind him. It feels like your heart is being cut open by millions of tiny glass pieces as soon as the door closes.
You barely manage to walk towards the couch before you break down. Sobs violently shaking with your body.
-
A few days go by, and it's only when you don't pick up your phone on like the 20th try does Penelope march into your apartment.
You reluctantly open the door after she knocks, and knocks, insisting she's not leaving until you open the door.
"Hi," you greet her, and you immediately notice her slightly shocked face at the sight of you. And you get it. You haven't slept properly for the last few days, and the almost constant tears can't help either.
"Oh my gosh, honey, come here," Penelope instantly pulls you into an embrace, and you melt into it like a puddle.
She squeezes you tightly until you're ready to let go. "Pen, what...what are you doing here? Did Spencer send you?"
"Don't even say his name. He's in big, big trouble," she says in her own angry way. A small smile appears on your face when she says it.
"I can't believe he's done this. He can be such an idiot sometimes even if he really is a genius," you don't argue with that, but you don't want to talk about Spencer either. He's been on your mind enough as it is right now.
"Can we...can we not talk about it? I just want to get over it, and move on as soon as possible, "you sigh. You let Penelope in, and you want to make her go sit down to the living room while you make the tea, but she insists on staying in the kitchen with you.
"Believe me, honey, I wouldn't want to talk about Spencer if it wasn't important," she starts, and your mind immediately goes to the worst possible scenario.
Seeing your wide, worried eyes she adds, "he's okay. He's just stupid, that's all."
"Yeah," you agree quietly, even if you know that it's not true. Spencer maybe used to be clueless about things like relationships, but that has changed. He was never clueless in your relationship.
"Oh sweetheart, " Penelope rubs your shoulder in comfort, "I could beat him up for making you so sad."
Her very serious tone makes you let out a small chuckle. You and her both know that she wouldn't even hurt a fly let alone Spencer, her dear friend.
"Thanks, Penny, but it's okay, I'm okay. Spencer didn't want to be with me anymore, and i-i made my peace with that or-or at least i will eventually."
"But that's just it. That's what I came here to tell you. Spencer loves you, and he just let dumb people with dumb opinions get to his head," you almost burn yourself with the warm water for the tea when you hear her words.
"What do you mean?" you quizz. You forget about the tea, and turn to her.
"He'd heard some people talk about you and him. Some colleagues saw you two together somewhere, and started gossiping. He heard them say that you're too good for him with him being in prison and all-"
"What? That's just ridiculous," you exclaim, you've never heard such a bullshit before.
Of course, you know that Spencer was in prison, but you also know he was innocent. You knew Spencer even before he went to prison, and maybe he did change a bit, but he was still the same Spencer. The Spencer you've always been in love with.
"Exactly, I told him the same, but he wouldn't listen, " she looks sympathetically at you, "I think that Spencer just loves you so much that he's willing to let you go for better or worse."
You are stunned. You stand there absolutely baffled, and Penelope just looks at you with understanding. It takes you good few minutes to finally say something.
"You knew about this?" you question as you head towards the door with Penelope on your heels.
"No, I found out yesterday otherwise I would have told you sooner," you quickly put on your shoes as you listen to her.
"I know you would. Thank you for telling me this, Pen. You're the best," you give her a tight hug.
"He's at home right now," she tells you, you appreciatively smile at her, and basically run to your car with Spencer on your mind.
-
When Spencer opens his door, you instantly push yourself inside. You don't give him even a second to react, protest or say anything.
"Spencer Reid!" you start angrily. "I can't fucking believe you. You let us break up over some stupid gossip? And you didn't even tell me?" You say, hurt.
"It's not stupid, it's true-" Spencer starts calmly, a complete contrast to you. But on the inside he feels like he's going to pass out. It was already hard for him without seeing you, but now it feels like hundred times worse.
"Like hell it is!" you argue. "Spencer of course you're enough for me. I don't care what anyone says. It's not even true anyways. I don't care that you've been in prison, i don't care about any of it."
"But it is true. I'm no good for you. You can do so much better, sweetheart. Like look at me," he gestures towards himself, " I'm such a mess, my life is always messy. You don't deserve this kind of life, you deserve so so much better. You don't deserve to be waiting late at night for me to come home, wondering if i even come home. I can't let you have that kind of life. I'm not worth it."
Finally, Spencer lets the tears go down his cheeks freely. He knows what he is giving up by breaking up with you. He'd planned his whole life with you by his side. But it's better this way. Well that's at least what he is telling himself anyway.
"Don't you get it, Spencer?" you laugh dryly from the frustration, "I don't want better. I don't want anyone else. I just want you. I want you, Spence."
You sniffle slightly, and look at Spencer with hopeless eyes begging him to understand.
"You shouldn't, sweetheart, you shouldn't want me," Spencer tells you helplessly, running his hands through his hair.
You take a brave step towards him.
"Why shouldn't I?" you start. "Shouldn't I want the sweetest, the kindest person I know in my life? Shouldn't I want to be with the person that makes me smile, and makes my heart go fast? Shouldn't I want to be with somebody I completely trust? Shouldn't I want my best friend in my life forever? Shouldn't I want somebody who I feel safe with? Shouldn't I be with somebody I love the most?"
"So Spencer you tell me? Shouldn't i? Shouldn't i want you?" your cheeks are wet from the flowing tears, too.
Spencer shakes his head. You're impossible. How could he ever think that you'd just get over him without questioning why. He should have known better than that.
Spencer takes the final step that's between you two, and softly wipes away the tears from your puffy cheeks.
"I just want what's best for you," he whispers with a broken voice. Looking right into your watery eyes.
"Then let me have you!" You point at his chest with a sniffle. You see Spencer's face soften, like he finally understands.
Spencer's hands move from your cheeks to your hips, and he pulls you closer to him. "A-are you sure?"
"Spencer, you're unbelievable, " you say, vexed, "there's no one else for me Spence. No one."
Your words are the final thing for Spencer to breakdown, to allow himself to be with you. He pulls you towards him, hugging you oh so tightly. He hides his face into the space between your neck and shoulder. You feel the wetness of his tears run down your skin.
"There's no one else for me, too," he whispers into your shoulder. You hum in agreement, not ready to say anything yet.
After a few minutes you pull away, caressing Spencer's cheek you smile at him. "I love you," you mumble, "Please don't ever let people get to your head like this. At least not without telling me, yeah?"
"Yeah," Spencer says in hushed voice, leaning into your gentle touch. "I love you, thank you for not letting me be an idiot."
You both chuckle, sniffling, and it finally feels like it's all going to be okay. Like your worlds won't be ending after all.
You and Spencer go snuggle on his couch, content to be near each other again after the few days apart, and even if you know that there's still a conversation to be held tomorrow, you feel happy.
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