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oh-for-fic-sake · 5 years ago

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Safe And Sound? More Like Safe And Bred.

Masterlist

Warnings: Adult situations 18+ Smut, Attempted Rape, Breeding kink, swearing, A/B/O and all the posessive bs that goes with it 👍

A/n This was intended to be darker but sort of changed as I was writing? Yeah I'm very happy with it tho considering its my first A/B/O. As always enjoy😘

Clark has been driven wild by an omega's scent.

Safe And Sound? More Like Safe And Bred

There it was again. That fucking scent. Clark groaned and took a deep breath in unconsciously ,smelling it, tasting the air on his tongue, wanting to lap up the delicious scent. It tasted like maple syrup yet smelt completely different fresh and succulent like cool spring air. Young and new. Ripe. He shuddered at the thought. It was driving him wild like no other, normally he could block them out but not this one No,six weeks .Six. Fucking. Weeks he had been teased by it coming into the daily planet.

There was an omega here somewhere, he almost felt jealous of the others weaker senses, they had caught faint whiffs of it asking Perry about it who told them none to polity to 'back off' and that it shouldn't cause a problem due to where they was stationed no one should be able to smell them up here. But Clark did. He had to endure it constantly day in day out. The scent was always worse in the lobby where everyone entered the building. Each morning he came in scanning the people around him looking for a new face, more desperate each day to find the omega.

After enduring the scent for so long he was determined to find the culprit. To find his omega. He swore at that ,they wasn't his, he couldn't allow it.. . He couldn't claim them. Afraid of hurting them, it was true that alphas couldn't bare the thought of hurting an omega, actually against the law to cause any harm emotional or otherwise to an omega. It'd be to easy for him to accidentally harm them, one slip of concentration and that could be it.

So he had resigned himself to never claim one, tho he couldn't help his instincts that screamed for him to find them. To mount and breed them. so he still found himself searching the lobby everyday as he came and went. Sighing as he walked to the elevator not finding them once again disappointment ran through him he shook his head taking one last gulp of air trying to capture the scent he stepped in the elevator.

Just as he went to close the doors he smelt them. He saw her. Other alphas were sniffing around her as she walked past them through the lobby head down watching her feet as she scurried quickly across the space heading for a door that he knew lead to the mail room below she faltered quickly bringing her head up scanning the crowd before catching him looking at her. She gulped as she locked eyes on him then all but flung herself past the door out of sight. The doors closed but he stood frozen. She had seen him.

His chest swelled. His omega had looked at him. She wanted him, her alpha. For a second he stood shocked then quickly threw himself at the buttons smashing the open door button willing it to open and let him go and find her, alas it was to late he was already scaling the building to his floor. He took a breath closing his eyes picturing her She was gorgeous, around average height dark auburn nearly brown hair piled atop her hair in a messy bun she was slim. But not to slim and had and hourglass shape wide hips. Meant for breeding. Fuck. And her eyes a dark hazel freckles dusting her face. He clenched his hand around the briefcase he held, as images of mating her, knotting her took hold he grunted hearing a crunch as the hard plastic handle gave under the pressure.

He swore. No he couldn't risk it risk her. The doors opened revealing the office he panted a few breaths trying to compose himself he walked through the office to his desk dropping into his seat running his palms across his face smoothing his hair back before dropping them by his sides.

Lois approached him warily seeing him tensed and almost flighty. If she didn't know any better she'd have said he was entering a rut, but she wasn't going to suggest that to him. Hell no. Alphas became aggressive if another alpha brought it up. And she definitely didn't want to deal with a triggered alpha in the office. Especially him of all people. However he had let slip a week or so ago that the omega in the building had riled him, that he couldn't block it out like the others.

Fuck. His blood was burning in his veins, his reaction was unlike any other. It was instant and he knew somewhere deep down that he would not be concentrating today.

"Hey Clark you ok there?" he grunted then forced a smile kicking his briefcase under the desk. Out of sight out of mind. was the term that came to mind.

"Yes I'm fine" she didn't look convinced.

"Riiiight and who are you trying to convince me or you? if that omega downstairs is causing you problems you should talk to someone, she shouldn't even be here working if shes unmated" Clark growled at her. Of course Lois was right in a sense. It wasn't law that omegas couldn't work however as a general rule they didn't or if they did it was a part time job close to home and normally along side their alphas. Most were claimed by the time they left college alphas would claim an omega in the first or second heat that happened around 17-20 years old, it was very rare to have an unmated omega in the work force but companies couldn't discriminate. Lois took a step back at the warning, Clark squared his shoulders the thought of his omega leaving agitated him.

"And what would I say? I can scent her from nearly 11 stories up? how would I explain that exactly?" he growled the words through grit teeth not liking where this was going. It took a great amount of control not to flash his eyes at the alpha female in front of him. She backed up unconsciously but continued.

"Well its obviously effecting you, look at yourself ,you've been getting worked up since she got here. If shes your one claim her and get it over with. but don't sit there stewing over it. Do something about it or I will" she snapped back. He could hear what she was really getting at, she was hurt occasionally two alphas could find a way to be together but this didn't happen in there case and she was jealous of the omega and wanted her gone and would make it happen herself if need be. Clark was on his feet in front of her before she could register it bending down getting in her face. And snarled low and dangerous, what ever courage Lois had fled as he glared at her menacingly.

"Don't .You. Ever. Threaten. Her. Again." she shook at the dark look in his eyes stepping back a few steps. frightened. 'as she should be' Clark thought his instincts in over drive feeling as if he had done his omega proud ,scaring off what he precieved as a threat.

"What the hell is going on?" Perry called as he watched a pale Lois take her seat not looking at anyone

"Nothing its dealt with Perry." she said bitterly tho Clark couldn't tell if it was because she had backed off her instincts acknowledging him as a true alpha or if it was that he had defended another woman.

"It better be" he warned eyeing them both before heading to his office Clark sat back down before starting up his computer to begin his work. he stopped after about ten minutes as there was a spike in his omega's scent.. she was going into heat he got up fast, to fast he hoped no one had seen him he looked at the elevator swallowing dryly. Lois raised her head instantly worried forgetting her frustration for a moment more concerned about him.

"C-Clark?" he looked at her and she froze as his pupils grew until there was a slim ring of blue around them. She took a deep breath picking up on the signs. Quickly she got up and went to him. whispering

"Whats going on are you- is she ok?" he tore his eyes from her to the elevator.

"Shes-heat" he swallowed taking a deep breath trying again

"Shes going into heat downstairs, fuck" Lois looked confused

"What but surely she'd know and not come in? it must have caught her off guard-wait what did you do?"

"We- I saw her, she saw me... that couldn't have triggered it could it?" he asked uncertain scanning the other alphas in the room they hadn't noticed, not that he thought they could detect her from here. Lois gaped at him sometimes she forgot that they didn't necessarily teach everything about omegas in all schools, especially to alphas, in traditional communities alphas were just taught about their own anatomy next to nothing about omegas ,hell in some areas where most were betas nothing was taught at all forcing everything to happen naturally on instinct.

"Of course it can! if she isn't on suppressants hell some can't even take them! meeting her alpha could cause an instant heat ,fuck sake, you need to go get her, if she leaves now she could be hurt or worse go I will cover you just go now!" Lois growled at him, the thought of an omega in heat trying to navigate the city alone made her insides churn. He leaned over to retrieve his case but she spun him pushing him to the elevators.

"Leave that I will sort it just go!"

Mean while you was down stairs panicking. You'd found him. Your one true alpha. After years of denying all others waiting out your heats holed up in your apartment praying that you'd find your true alpha and not be caught by another and lose the chance at having your soul mate. You had tried suppressants over the years but they hadn't worked, sometimes when an omegas true alpha was to potent the suppressants didn't work they only muted the the symptoms slightly and ended up not being worth the side effects , nausea ,headaches ,bouts of depression and anxiety then the back pain that was caused by your body trying to counteract the cramps redirecting the spasms.

This was the case for you it wasn't worth it basically exchanging excruciating the internal cramps for crippling back pain, it was dangerous, with cramps you could push through it still move and run if you needed to ,but the back pain made you immobile. You took deep breaths once you reached your office. Sitting down unsteady on your feet.

He was magnificent tall broad dark hair and bright eyes tho at the distance you couldn't define the color, you tried to imagine his face with forest green or a deep azure irises. You gasped feeling yourself heating up. You'd been picking up on his scent since you arrived. It was different. Very strange normally scents had one or two underlying tones his was a mix of many all intertwining in to one deep clean airy scent. You panted cringing as you began to sweat lightly.

Fuck. This wasn't good. You couldn't drop now. Not when you'd seen him. That was probably the cause. You whined taking off you jumper revealing the short sleeved blouse underneath letting the air around you picking up the folder on your desk fanning yourself debating what you should do, you could try to slip out and get home there wasn't to many alpha's here you had done your research before applying there was forty most were on the top floors, but that was still forty alphas that would smell you as you tried to leave and then you'd have to navigate through the city home avoiding all others. you sighed knowing you had to make the decision fast. swearing loudly you picked up the phone calling your manager.

"Hi its y/n in the mailing department.. I'm sorry I have to leave now preferably....I've- my heat has come early and I cant stay-I'm sorry I don't know what to do" you lean over the desk crying softly thinking that you'd just lost the only job anyone had offered you. This was cut short as she replied understanding you, being an alpha with an omega daughter she knew what it was like you huffed in relief as she calmed you down reassuring you that it was fine she instructed you to stay where you was until she called you an uber to be safe and take all the time you needed, you nodded thanking her before hanging up.

Quickly you gathered your things and waited, she phoned back quickly informing you that the uber was outside waiting you just had to tell him the destination and the company was paying for it as this classed as 'emergency travel'. You thanked her again and headed out of the office scaling the stairs to the lobby scuttling out as fast as you could aiming to head home as quick as you could before you got any worse. You felt the stares you noted the few alphas scattered about taking deep drags of air into themselves, drinking in your scent before slowly heading in your direction. You whimpered as you raced through he main doors nearly staggering as you made your way down the road as you flushed hot and needy. Jumping into the uber telling the driver your address as he pulled out into the street. He looked at you threw the rare view mirror.

"You ok back there? you want me to call someone?... your alpha?" he asked innocently enough. You just leaned forward cupping your tummy as the first pulses began in your abdomen muscles twitching beginning the first twinges of pain, you cried out panicked, it was never this fast, a normal heat took at least 24hours to sink in and reach this point.

"No! no no I'm fine just drive!!" he grinned at your response but not that you saw from your almost fetal position in the back, he continued as he pulled off the main road cutting down a residential street as a short cut

"Ok are you sure? is your alpha aware of this? does he hurt you is that why you don't want to call him?" he pried by this point alarm bells would usually start but in your desperate state you didn't click you just shook your head

"no-don't have one just please hurry!!" he grinned doing a u turn at the T junction going left back towards the city. You groaned with your head between your knees crying as the pain came crashing over like waves. Flooding your system then draining away before returning ,gasping deep gulps of air so wrapped up in trying to halt your heat you didn't realize the type of danger you were in.

"H-how much longer?" you didn't register the car stopping he chuckled.

"Not long darling" your eyes snapped open freezing at the tone managing to prop yourself up wincing through the pain as you noticed you'd stopped moving. Dread filled when you saw you were still down town. Even with the traffic you should have been out in the residential area. Your apartment was only a 25 minute walk so should have been about a five to ten minute drive instead you was in the city center all be it parked In some sort of loading bay tucked behind some tall office buildings you didn't recognize. You gulped at the look on his face. Slowly reaching for the handle of the door only for it to be locked. You shivered.

"Wh-what are you doing?" he unclipped his seat belt

"I'm gonna take care of you, a pretty omega like you shouldn't be going through heats alone... You should have an alpha to help you... You will~ just relax this will be over soon" he said before squeezing himself between the front seats making to grab you.

You twisted screaming as loud as you could. Lifting your bag striking him as hard as you could, which wasn't that hard as your energy had been sapped away by your rapid heat. he held you firm digging his fingers into your wrist untill the bag dropped to the footwell, pushing your shoulders against the door you screamed again agonizing

"NOOO HELP SOMEONE HELP ME!" clawing at him scratching his face he swore as your nail scratched across his eye.

"YOU LITTLE BITCH!" he screamed you cowered at his anger he pulled back his hand slapping you hard across the face you grunted as your head smacked into the metal seat belt clip half way up the back seat.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP CUNT!" you kneed, twisted ,clawed and bit anything you could think of to get him off of you ,he overpowered you grabbing your head smashing it against the inner door panel, your vision went fuzzy at how hard your head had bounced off of it. weeping weakly kicking out despite all hope of escape was fading fast as the male tore open your blouse buttons scattering across the back seat and foot well.

"NOO NONO PLEASE!"you sobbed as you resigned yourself to being another statistic. Then the door behind your head was ripped clean off you car you yelped cringing as you heard the metal twist and tear just beside your head tumbling out of the car, being caught before touching the asphalt and sat on the roof of the car so quick it made you dizzy before you could even glance at who had saved you. You heard the screams of your would be rapist shouting panicked as he was dragged violently out of the car.

Crying you moved to cover yourself tugging the shirt around yourself looking forward you saw superman clutching the alphas neck hoisting up to his eye level eyes flashing a dangerous red, hinting to the power simmering just below the surface shoulders heaving with every breath and his jaw clenched boiling anger was written across his stance. The alpha pleaded with him. The kryptonian glanced at you before snarling in the other alphas face low and terrifying. you held your breath something was wrong.

"MINE!" was all the man of steel managed as he panted heavy , you saw the tremble in his arm as he tried holding back but still squeezed tighter on the throat he held causing the alpha to gasp and wheeze begging pleading much like you had been not two minutes ago. You gasped not entirely sure you heard him correctly but you was sure that you didn't want to be around either of them in this state.

You placed your hands on the metal below you sliding backwards making the decision to leave your bag that stuff could be replaced. Keeping both of them in your sight, gasping quietly as you dropped to your feet , buckling as another cramp clutched a your insides. You had to move get away you couldn't let either male near you, not when you'd just found your mate, when you was so close.

In your state of panic you forgot one of the most important things every omega should know. If your caught by an alpha in the middle of a heat Do. Not. Run an alpha that wants to pursue you, will chase, they relished in it the hunt. That's why there is so much emphasis on mateing young, once you are claimed alphas are less drawn to you and your heat cant do this whole surprise pop up act. Those who tried to hold out for their mates are usually picked off before their thirties, claimed forcefully and trapped in a unhappy pairings you never thought it'd be you.

You moved slow at first backing away from the car then as you made your way further from them once you got a good twenty feet you turned and ran down a small one way road leading in the direction of home. You hoped. Your footsteps caught Superman's attention snapping his head up dropping the male

"NOO! COME BACK!" he shouted making you more frightened speeding up, he sounded angry. He shot up instantly hovered above the small building before spying you diving down landing in front of you as you as you had reached a main street onlookers stopped as they saw him land hard on the ground, he crouched the asphalt below him cracking under the force he'd used. You skidded to a stop nearly running into him you screamed backing up as he moved to grab you his eyes. They were burning literally glowing seconds away from igniting your flesh.

"I-I No please I don't-" you tried speaking cutting yourself off as another cramp took hold you cried out curling grasping your stomach. He took the opportunity to quickly scoop you up taking off so fast the air was sucked from your lungs you couldnt breath instead puffing out desperate tiny breaths. He headed straight for home. You groaned weakly at him trying desperatly to breath, tapping him as you managed sharp breaths when you could smelling him, he smelt familiar and unique almost like your mate but not quite the same.

Before you knew it you was in an unfamilliar apartment gasping deep breaths trying to ease your burning lungs. Whimpering as a wave after wave of your mates scent hit you causing your body the begin preparing itself for him as you soaked your panties through at an alarming rate. You was deposited on a large bed confused uncomfortably wet and in pain as you curled on your side in the covers pressing your face into the cotton taking deep breaths. You heard footsteps leave your side moving around beyond the door.

He was building you a nest in his den, he was here helping you, you crawled towards him as he smoothed out the blanket to curl around you grabbing him trying to pull him up onto the bed with you. You whimpered as he pulled back standing to look at the nest wanting it to be perfect. In your heat addled mind you took it as a rejection when he moved out of your grasp.

"A-Alpha?" you called out looking for him, he was here he had to be here you needed him, this was his den, but where was he. You looked around trying to find him. Then you hear Superman return, well you thought it was Superman maybe you was so far gone you'd been hallucinating, you was sure the man of steel had brought you here, but it wasn't him who returned you looked at the door ecstatic as you spied your mate with arms full of pillows and a few blankets mumbling to himself about a nest, felt a burst of excitement as he placed the cushions and blankets around you.

"I-its ok, I'm here, I've found you omega, mine ,my omega" you looked up at the male before you tucking your nose into the crook of his neck breathing deep wanting to take him in as much as you could it was him. Yes. You've made it. you cried happy tears streaming down your face as you finally had him, Your one. Your soul mate. Years spent searching hoping, terrified that he'd given up hope and claimed another. But the years of loneliness and fear was worth it for this one moment.

"N-no! alpha come back" your voice was small but sincere, he quickly saw his mistake and climbed up with you letting you grab and pull at him.

"Wh-how? you was-" he climbed over you cageing you nuzzling your neck doing the same to you that you had done to him only he was not crying, he was growling deep in his chest, that you had only just noticed was uncovered he was bare as the day he was born.

"Later...Cant" he mumbled kissing at your neck quickly licking and nipping succumbing to his need to bury himself inside of you as soon as possible. You whined as he pulled the blankets around you creating a tighter cocoon. His instincts were all over the place wanting to mount and knot you and calm and cuddle you . It was hard for him to concentrate as he smelt your body prepare for him. Turning you looked at him your lips parted as you huffed becoming impossibly hot ,sweat forming on your brow your clothes constricting and sticky as you lifted a shaky hand to his cheek.

"Blue... I didn't see them earlier, there beautiful." he almost purred closing his eyes as you ran your hand up to his curled hair. His nostrils flaring ducking down to you kissing you groaning at the taste of your tongue he moved over you, desperate pressing you into the matress holding your waist sliding you up the bed wrestling with your clothes growling before opting to rip them of not patient enough to remove them with out damaging them. You whined at him making him stop inspecting you for injury , when he determined you was unharmed just vocal he continued moving down your body kissing and suckling marks onto you wanting to devour your slick as he smelt how wet you had become for him.

He tossed your legs over his shoulders breathing deep closing his eyes collecting him self 'slow and steady don't hurt her' he thought to himself then leaned forward sucking obscenely on your wet folds dipping his tongue between them. you screamed as he met your hot sensitive skin groaning into you gripping your hips forcing you to remain still and endure him as he worked on finding you bud then flicking quickly up and down then rolling it around sucking it between his teeth applying a gentle pressure.

You cried and shouted as he continued he looked up at you watching you try to twist and turn your breasts bouncing with every jerky movement and heaving breath. He groaned again imagining just how perfect they would look tight and full ready to feed his pups. He pulled back with long licks from back to front collecting as much slick as he could as he went. You panted teary eyed as he crawled above you. He grunted eyeing your neck then maintained eye contact snarling when you didn't immediately look away.

Your pussy wept below you at the sight. He was posturing. Waiting for you to present to him, for you to acknowledge him as your alpha. You tilted your head looking away eagerly willing your body to relax below him he keened low running his nose across your throat then latching onto it biting locking his jaw tightly, not enough for the final bite but he held you there tonguing your neck releasing then moving down biting repeating the same process searching for the least sensitive spot to deliver his bite.

Once he found a spot that didn't cause a large reaction or was on the artery he sucked a dark mark , pinpointing it for later once he was satisfied he released your neck with a parting kiss many would look for the most sensitive but he was worried about truly harming you.

He grabbed your shoulder rolling you on your front heaving up your hips presenting you to him your shoulders landing on the extra pillows and blankets he got for you taking your weight. He gasped leaning back to take a moment to calm himself, he would not risk killing you accidentally because he rushed, admittedly he was also enjoying the view, way your scent permeated the air leaving him feeling hazy almost drunk. You mewled lost in your heat impatient for him to claim you in the most sinful and depraved of ways. You rocked to and fro clenching your pussy for him then spread your knees so he could see. You heard him grunt then decided to push further.

"AAHH! FUCK" you yelped as he stretched you taught around him the resistance you put up against him was intoxicating as he moved steady not letting up as he was pushing deeper and deeper feeding himself into you. You tried to raise onto your hands but a swift hand caught you by the scruff pressing down with a snarl.

As ready as your slick had made you, you was still smaller than him he noted as he was poised at your opening, twitching and puffy from his earlier exploration, he could feel the heat radiating form you. As you tried to rock back feeing his cock just there he pulled you back onto him.

"No you will stay In position presenting" he grunted you whimpered in response as he held you there firm. Finally he grunted low quickly thrusting the last inch or so into you thighs pressed against your bottom tensing. You panted clawing at the pillows surrounding you is was nearly to much as he held still flexing making you jump and flutter around him.

"P-pleeeas alpha I cant wait please" your words were pitiful and breathy arching your back pushing your ass high and curling your toes. His breathing hitched un able to hold back he rose to his knees digging his tumbs into the back of your pelvis gripping tight designed to hold you still, to force you to take all of him weather you wanted to or not. You'd forfited that choice with your presented to him earlier. You was his and he wanted you to know that ,slowly falling prey to his most basic of primal needs. Mount. Fuck. Knot. Breed. There was no thoughts beyond these four goals. He held steady nudging your opening with his cock, hard and only just beading with precum, he had fought to hold back his need for release refuseing to waste a drop, but now it seemed he may need it.

"Good girl....soo good ... your such a good omega.....are you ready to be bred?" tears fell at the feeling of being so stuffed, you wasn't sure just how you were going to take his knot if this was him before that, it was uncomfortable pressed so deep it was bordering pain, a dull ache but your cramps were gone as if his skin alone had soothed your insides and that you was thankful for.

"ugh such a good female.... gonna fuck you full" he tilted his head back abdomen quivering and twitching with need he was trying to hold back, be gentle he had heard the whimpers as he opened you up for the first time, noting that you wasn't a virgin, tho many omegas now day's had toy's to replicate alpha couplings. He snarled pulling back a little then rocking into you the idea of anything other than himself inside you irked him, no more. He would dispose of yours at the first opportunity. You'd never resort to using a toy again. A rubber substitute, no he wouldn't allow it. You would come to him for relief or you'd suffer. Those were your options now.

"YES... fuck yes THATS IT...I'm your alpha now...no one else.... I'll kill them" he grunted teasing you with his cock you screeched as he growled and grunted using his hands to hold you still as he drove into you over and over, pulling out further each time, you was floating or was it drowning you couldn't tell, all you knew was that you hated the way you felt empty as he left you, your pussy was clamping and pulling at him, fighting to keep him sheathed inside you. You groaned cried and squealed unable to stop as his moans egged you on.

"aH! FUCKfuckfuck alPHAAA!" you shook your head rubbing your face into his heady scent your head swimming in it as it seeped through the blankets. You tried to fight his hold as he teased you with shallow thrusts making your pussy protest resulting in a loud sharp spank and you widened your legs for him.

"You ok baby?" he asked as you shook beneath him gasping, trying to calm your breathing you tried to turn to look at him hissing as it pulled on his knot

You cried panicked trying to wiggle from under him desperate to escape the painful stretch he quickly acted on auto pilot latching onto the mark he left on your neck biting breaking the skin, holding you still with a growl as he claimed you with his scent permanently. You cried tensing not sure if the pain was to much or not enough. He finallly released your neck tucking a hand below where you joined rubbing your hard bud forcing you to clench painfully around the knot that was cruley holding you in place spreading your lips apart revealing your clit to his wandering fingers as you was warpped tight around him ,you tried to drag yourself forward off of him tugging at your joining to no avail he was slow and frim with his teasing finger tips.

Quickly you found your abdoman spasming and you screeched as he tore your second orgasm from you, this time as you squirted nothing left you hitting his knot and returning back up into you the force of it sending ripples of pleasure against all of your nerves your walls massaged him from root to tip as a result making him finally release into you feeling him pulse and twitch as his hot load hit you hard and deep some had definatly make it past your cervix you summarised the only coherent through in the lusty haze that was now slowly lifting from you, he held still as he continued to pour into you, the overwhelming urge to breed you was to much as he rocked once ,twice slowly using his knot the amplify the pleasure.

You whimpered staying as still as you could panting completly washed out and wrecked. He looked down smug not taking his eyes of of where you were joined his knot was large, he was impressed at how well you took him. A slight panic, he'll admit but you had stayed still enough for him to fully mate you And nothing was escaping which boded well for breeding.

"Ah ah ah stay still... that's it stay still... good girl" he reassured knowing full well that you could be like this for a few more minutes maybe ten minutes or so, for him specifically he wasnt sure. Selfishly he wanted to remain there as long as possible but thought it'd be better for you if he wasnt attached to long.

"yes ...that's it omega open up for me... let me in" he chuckled slamming into you making your bones rattle keening with the force as he did it over again becoming desperate to bury himself inside deeper. You cried out as he dragged his hand from your neck leaning over you as he plowed you into an orgasm. You let out what was at first a silent scream as you clamped around him making him hiss you leaked over him cumming drenching his thighs with slick as he grunted holding still tightly pressing into you his knot forming in an instant stretching you until you yelped in pain trying to break free. No. It hurt. As he was pressing painfully deep almost pressing into your cervix opening.

"Are you ok? we could be like this for a while baby.. you have enough pillows"

"It's sore" you mumbled quietly unable to stop pulling forward it was only natural to try and avoid the pain he felt guilty but knew it was unavoidable.

"I know baby but your doing so well... soo good and just think with any luck we will have pups on the way! doesnt that sound nice baby. You can make a better nest, more suitable for pups." you clenched at his words the idea of pups making you perk up

"Pups?" you asked excited he laughed rubbing your back soothingly noticing how hot you was.

"Oh yes I'm going to breed you during this heat, that is if I haven't took root already" he said rolling his hip lightly making his point you groan again. He noted the sweat rolling down your sides. Debating on what to do, he knew he could help easily but was a little apprehensive. Finally he decided he would do it, your his mate now, bound to him permanently.

"Baby? are you hot?" you nodded

"Yeah and sticky..... I want a cold shower... can I have one when I'm free?" he frowned that would mean you standing up.... he would leak from you.... No. He shook his head

"No you may not, you will lie on your back once free.. I want you full." he said you pouted a little feeling scolded whimpering before you flinched as he blew a cool gust of air onto you. It was cold... Much colder than should have been possible.. And it wasn't to do with how heated your skin was. Clark continued blowing cooling your skin until it was no longer red. He felt himself finally softening once he was sure he could remove himself without any pulling he did sliding back quickly flipping you to your back pulling the pillows below your waist . You laid back wide eyed.. It took him seconds.. Literally seconds to pull out and re-position you... He moved you one handed...WHAT THE FUCK? you squeaked

"Wh-how did you do that? you really are? but your scent i-it was different you wasn't!" you were so confused. He looked down guilty stroking you slowly unable to keep for touching you now that you were bpnded ,he loved how you carried his scent, it was lingering just beneath yours coiling around it.

"I'm sorry, my suit it....changes my scent... I'm not sure why, it may be because its not made here on earth... " you paled as he explained you knew. Your mate was superman. The man of steel. You gasped bringing your hands to your face as you cried

"YOUR AN ASS! do you know how FUCKING SCARED I WAS!" you shouted moving to get up. He was faster pinning you down pushing into your neck.

"I thought you was going to burn me! Kill me!" You wailed into your palms.

"sshh sshh its ok now.. I'm sorry ...I'm so sorry I never intended to scare you, I was just scared...I tried to follow you but you already left....... Then I went looking for you ..... I heard screaming not want sure if it was you, I was so glad as I got closer and smelt you then I saw him..I had intended to just take you home..But seeing you there I knew I had no choice...I had to claim you to keep you safe... I was so close to killing him, I wanted to...You stopped me, if you hadnt run I would have ripped him limb from limb... All I knew in that moment was that I couldnt bare seeing you run from me.. I had to catch you." you settled down as he kissed your mark explaining between small pecks and licks then laid curling at you side. Pulling your hands away.

"I-if I'd known it was you I wouldnt have run from you I would have run to you" you explaind cupping his face lightly he leaned forward kissing him.

"But I cant call you superman or alpha all the time" you smirked he chuckled sliding higher around you leaning over you on his elbow.

"Clark kent" he offered with a kiss

"y/n y/l/n" he smiled before kissing deeply again you were interupted by a loud bannging form somwhere deeper in the apart ment he held out a hand

"Stay I want to give us the best chance for pups" he called out as he grabbed some boxers sliding them up as he walked to the front door opeing it revealing Lois holding out his damaged breifcase she scrunched her nose as the heady smell of there coupling hit her.

"Here I Covered for you, Perry thinks this morning was because your omega was going into heat and you didnt touch her and I told you to leave and 'be an alpha for once' in the end you took my advice and mated her... you have the week off for her heat." she explained then cleared her throat nodding behind him he growled when he spotted you up by the door peeping he pointed back to where you came growling.

"Back in your nest!" you scuttled back into the room with a squeak diving back into your nest of blankets. Placing your hips back on the raised pillows. Lois giggled.

"Don't be too hard on her she probably heard me and panicked... any way I'm off and try to be gentle with her she looks ....small" he nodded closing the door as she turned to leave. He padded into the bedroom spoting you tugging the blankets around you adjusting then readjusting them pouting. He smiled tugging it from you smoothing it around your hips.

"That was lois.. Shes and alpha and a friend nothing to worry about.." you nodded to him as he tucked himself around you again making you rest your head on his chest as he reached down cupping your tummy running his thumb acros the skin below your belly button

"Sleep baby it wont long before I'll mount you again" you blushed at his words but tried to relax anyway letting your mind drift as he wandering fingers pushed you into a deep satisfied slumber.

Taglist @havenoffandoms

#superman smut #superman x reader #superman x you #alpha superman #clark kent x y/n #clark kent x you #clark kent x reader #superman mate #alpha clark kent #superman imagine #clark kent imagine

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echo-of-sounds · 4 years ago

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i don’t know

Okay, I don’t know where else to put this, so you can ignore it if you want, but I just need to get some thoughts, feelings, and anxieties out before I breakdown because of them. This’ll probably get long. And I’ll probably cry from frustration while writing this.

Two summers ago, when I was 21, my therapist said it was a possibility that I had Asperger's, mainly because of the social and cognitive symptoms. I have a horrible time understanding abstract information. In school, I cold never do a project unless I had concrete details. I just couldn’t grasp what they were asking of me. Teachers would narrow it down a bit, but it never helped. I need a clear outline. I legitimately could not do it otherwise. I froze and panicked and ended up nearly failing projects because of the lack of concrete direction.

I have a hard time understanding, what should be, simple sentences. I ask people to reword what they said or explain it in more depth. Some do. Some get angry and accuse me of not paying proper attention. I completely am. But I genuinely cannot make sense of their words and feel left out because they refuse to repeat themselves. It’s so frustrating. I loose track of the conversation, stop contributing, then they get angry again because I’m not responding to them.

My memory pertaining to certain things, is beyond amazing. I can recite the seating arrangements from all of my high school class. That was five years ago. But outside of that, it’s terrible (I know ADHD plays a role in this too). I always focus on the smaller details even if they weren’t important. I focused so much on them, I failed to see the larger picture. This also impacted so much of my schoolwork.

When I talk, I have no inflection. My voice is low and I often mumble. So many people have gotten angry at me for it. Then when I try to speak louder, to the point I’m genuinely strain myself and feel like I’m yelling, they still say I’m too quite. So I give up talking.

I had to go to speech therapy when I was younger (around 5 and 6 years old) because I still had trouble learning how to speak. My mom said I wouldn’t properly pronounce anything, use words wrong, and ‘babble’ a lot.

I’m so fucking clumsy. I bruise myself regularly because I just run into everything, even though they’ve been in the same place for years. I hit my hands off of things, nearly run into walls, and kick things often.

And my sensitivities are off the charts. It’s honestly ridiculous (I know ADHD also plays a role in this, but sometimes I feel like it’s much more than that). People tell me to stop being a picky eater when the smell of fish makes me want to vomit and feeling beans in my mouth is just plain wrong. The only smell I can tolerate is vanilla. Anything else and I want to cry. Clothing is horrible. I’m so rarely comfortable. And noises are the worst. My dad says it’s quite, but I can hear the Tv, the Tv in the other room, the sink running, that beeping, the AC going, someone clicking, the sizzling on the stove, and it’s all too much.

When I was younger, I used to have temper tantrums. A lot. They were bad. I’d hit myself, scratch myself with pens, and bang my head off the floor. I barely remember them, but I do remember it being more than just a ‘temper tantrum.’ The world was just too much and I didn’t know how to handle it, so I had a meltdown.

The severe self-harm eventually stopped, but the meltdown’s still happen to this day. My mom tries to get me to talk about it so she can help. But I can’t even explain why it happened half the time. It just did.

I’ve had so few close friends throughout my life. The ones I do make, don’t last. It’s hard for me to keep them as a friend. They don’t do anything wrong or bad. I just can never keep that connection. I barely interact with people. Even when they’re around, I just don’t talk. I abhor looking people in the eyes. It makes me uncomfortable and I don’t even know why! People get angry at me. They think I’m ignoring them when I’m not. I’m just not looking directly at them.

Communicating my feelings and expressing empathy is something I just cannot do. So I fake it. I feel worse about not feeling bad about someone’s trouble than I do actually feeling bad for them (I don’t know if that makes sense). I fake it so I don’t sound rude. I don’t want them to be angry at me.

I’d get in trouble at school when I did something ‘wrong,’ but I didn’t understand what I did wrong. I still don’t to some point. Teachers just told me I broke a rule and was in trouble. When I would ask why, they said I should be able to know that by myself. But I couldn’t. No matter how hard I thought about it.

I have a morning routine. I do it daily. If it ever gets interrupted, stopped, or I can’t complete it for whatever reason, my entire day is off. I try to continue normally, but I can’t focus. I just now my morning was messed up and I spend the rest of the day obsessing over it. It doesn’t go away until the next day when I can complete it properly.

I’ve always had hyperfocuses. ADHD affects this. I know. Some come and go, like a certain video game will consume my life or I’m suddenly preoccupied with writing poems for a week. But those go away. All my life, I’ve loved reading and learning about dinosaurs/megafauna/evolution, plants, and psychology. They’re easy for me to learn about. I retain so much information without trying. I never had to study for my psych. exams. Never. And I always aced them. I just obsessed about the subject and they remained in my memory so well.

As for stimming, I’ve done a lot of different things throughout my life, but I was always told to stop, told they were annoying, or questioned about them. So I stopped doing each one because I was scared people would get angry with me. Because some have.

I used to rub my fingers together. It kept my hands busy, but it also helped me focus and relieved some anxious energy. I didn’t know why. It just made me feel better. I’d be on the computer, using the mouse with my right hand, rubbing my fingers together with my left. My dad questioned why I did it. I didn’t have an answer so I did it less. I did it in school, while taking a test, and the teacher told me to stop because it was disruptive. I eventually stopped doing it all together because people would constantly make me feel bad for it.

I also used to babble. It was one of the reasons I was sent to speech therapy. Instead of helping me learn how to talk properly, because I did need help with that, the workers there just forced me to stop babbling/humming/repeating a word because it wasn’t proper behavior for the situation I was in.

Though I don’t babble anymore, as that was basically forced out of my behavior, I still hum and repeat lines (whether from a Tv show or a book) to myself, sometimes for days at a time. I also move my head and neck around and twist my wrists while I’m focusing on something. Half the time, I don’t realize I’m doing it. It takes another person to point it out.

My therapists said it was a possibility that I had Asperger’s. My psychiatrist said she didn’t believe so because I was able to connect with her. She felt I didn’t ‘align’ with the social troubles. I can talk to her, share feelings, look her in the eye, smile ate jokes (though sometimes I fake smile- I see another person smile so I match it), and I don’t have trouble going off topic and rambling about specific subjects.

I said okay at the time. She’s a smart woman and I trust her. But ever since, it’s been on my mind. I’ve always felt different. I don’t mean that in like ‘I’m special’ kind of way. I mean it like, ‘There’s something wrong with me and I don’t understand what it is. I don’t understand why others can do X while that takes me longer/more effort to understand. I genuinely felt ostracized. But I just accepted it.’

I don’t know how to bring it up to my mom and/or dad. I know my mom will be supportive, but I’m scared about other people. My younger brother makes jokes about autism. My siblings, dad, and stepmom don’t do anything. It pisses me off to no end. I’ve yelled and sworn at him for what he says. But he keeps doing it. My other siblings say it’s just a joke and I need to relax, but I can’t. They aren’t jokes. They’re rude, ableist, and most of them are making fun of things I do. He, nor none of family, just don’t that because I keep them hidden.

And I don’t know how to bring it back up to my psychiatrist. I feel connected to many of the symptoms and like it explains so much of my life, especially when I was young, but I don’t know how to explain all my thoughts on the subject. When she asks me a question, I often freeze and undercut my own troubles and downplay it. I’ve been obsessing over this the past few months. It’s partly why my depression got bad for a time. I don’t know it I’m making a mountain out of a mole or if I should actually seek professional help to help me, especially since I’ve applied for disability benefits because my mental health has been so bad the past couple of years.

Anyway, I’m done my ranting. Thanks for listening if you did. And I’m open to advice. I’ve just felt so stuck recently and I feel like it’ll only get worse.

#neurodivergent #autism support #autistic spectrum #mental health #personal?#it's definitely personal #personal rant #ignore my rambling #tw ableism

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mydearesthrry · 4 years ago

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places we won’t walk (chapter one) || peter parker

summary - the doors at midtown seem a little boring, but when you get introduced to someone you seem to remember, what happens when they seem to remember you too?

word count - 2.9k (wow shes gettin better!)

pairings - peter parker x fem!reader

warnings - like mild mention of s*xual assault, angst if you squint really hard, mj being a softy for you, mj being a lowkey bi, peter being stupid as always, y/n calling peter a colonizer.... thats it ok enjoy

a/n: so i know i last updated in october, but as u all saw i have a 25 days of xnas thing going on (PLS I WROTE THE A/N LIKE A MONTH AGO PLUS I FORGOT ABOUT THE XMAS THING DISREGARD) so pwww updates will be slow (as if they werent already omg) but the next chapter will be arriving hopefully, fingers crossed, on xmas eve or xmas! also, are you guys watching the new euphoria episode? also, i’ve stopped using the word ‘stuttering’, as it may be ableist, and i’d never wanna come off as insensitive. anyway lmao, enjoy chapter one, the trials and tribulations of hitting someone in the nuts.

also side note psa: biggest thank you to @blossomparkers for helping me so much w this chapter. i owe it all tooooo u lani yani. thank u for everything !!!!!

series masterlist | regular masterlist | series playlist

(gif not mine!)

when y/n y/m/n stark was in her early years, she was never aware of the impact her father would and did hold over her life, and in turn, the whole world. for the longest time, you’d always assumed that your father wasn’t real, and everything that had been told to you by malicious family members who were jealous over your father’s “successes” had been lies, and you had it believed yourself. no one would even think that you were tony stark’s daughter until it had been mentioned. tony’s snarky attitude had been a character trait that you’d gotten, and you always took pride in your humor and attitude.

the story of your mother and tony had been messy and all over the place. from a drunken hook-up followed by multiple days of morning sickness, to a surprise pregnancy test, the storyline of your parents had been.. well.. interesting to say the least. you never focused on your family’s history, solely based on the fact that you didn’t have two fucks to give about your family history, but you also never knew your father which was-- bizarre.

when tony had found out about you, he claimed it was a drunken accident, a mistake, and one he made when he was “less responsibly a stark”, which was actually just some fucking bullshit, but he didn’t wanna admit that he hooked up with some random chick at a bar that he thought was hot.

since you had been raised by a mother who was barely there, you had to raise yourself. you were kinda street smart and book smart, and you were always smart when it came to books, because you were the type to want to learn-- unlike others.

when you were in your teen years, you had tabs on you and the media on you 24/7 to make sure you didn’t royally fuck up. the unwanted attention became too much when you started realizing that people didn’t want you for your personality, they wanted you for your title. but this was after you moved from brooklyn. nuvale and peter never saw you as some “movie star”, or some famous person in the media because you weren’t. but when you had grown to learn what your father did, he had forced you to not fuck up to maintain his-- somewhat okay reputation.

you always wanted that superstar life, as a fantasy of course, but when you got to it, you realized the cliche-y-ness of it all. you’d idolized the famous women in the media-- idolized how they looked like. you realized fairly quick how fucked up the media truly is. you realized how things really aren’t as they seem. its not just the galas that look extravagant, or getting to wear a fancy new gucci outfit every night. it honestly was a whole bunch of other shit you wouldn’t even imagine. it comes with the no privacy thing- people stalking you in public, the death threats, so much shit that wouldn’t happen as common if you were just anonymous.

being an avenger (basically), your dad had natasha teach you the ropes; the basic rules of how to kick someones ass. it was a handbook that the women of the avengers had created, and it had all the rules and regulations of how to spar someone on the team, and basically how to righteously beat someone's ass up. it was never really something you found too important, but as you grew older, you realized that it was very important to know, especially since you were a girl.

despite your harsh remarks and snarky attitude, your father always knew how to hit a sensitive point in you that always managed to break you down. you never quite understood why he would want to make you feel worse about yourself than you already felt, but regardless, you always felt underappreciated by him. being a stark, you were expected to be a genius, get over the top grades, and constantly be able to keep up, but with your luck, you were graced with depression, social anxiety, and a 4.0 gpa. fun, right?

wrong.

when you were 11, you had made friends with the kids in your apartment halls, and you learned that their names were nuvale jones and peter parker, and you were basically the golden trio. you were hermione, peter was ron, and nuvale was harry. which, now that you look back at it, makes much more sense than any other arrangement. you also had another friend, harry osborn, but once he moved away, there was no way for you to talk to him anymore. he had moved across the country to california, and from then, it was just you, peter, and nuvale. your best friends ha been there for you for what seemed like decades, although you only knew them for about three.

peter was the boy with the rosy cheeks who little 12 year old you would get butterflies in her tummy. or the type of boy to bring you an extra snack if you weren’t able to pack it the night before. he was the type of boy to walk you to the nurses office if you got hit with a dodgeball. he was the type of boy to fall for someone like you. but he didn’t. or so you thought.

little prebubescent y/n was an awkward girl who thought the world would be on her side when she needed it the most, or that whenever you needed peter or nuva, they would be there. you didn’t think your best friend would stop talking to you after you had moved away. you were too naive to know that peter liked you, and you were too naive to know that he had liked you back, but you wanted to believe what your brain would tell you, so you decided to flush your feelings down the drain and forget about them, which, in hindsight, was a pretty shitty idea. who would’ve known?

your alarm clock blared loudly from beside you, causing you to let out a loud groan in protest. you hit the side of your head angrily, then whining and rubbing the spot which you hit. whines and loud sighs fell from your lips as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and pulled the covers over your head, knowing what would come next after you would try to snooze your alarm.

“good morning, miss stark, how could i be of service to you this morning?” friday’s voice echoed through your large bedroom. you peaked your eyes and forehead from beneath the covers, your eyes slowly starting to adjust to the light that was pulled through the big blinds which were now open.

“mmm, fri, just tell happy to get the car ready, ill be ready in a few min- nevermind, tell him to get ready in thirty, im probably gonna fall asleep in the shower.” you croaked, taking your phone from the charger which was on your nightstand. you slipped on your bunny slippers and turned on the heater in your room, the draft filling your room with cold air throughout the night.

-------

once you walked through the large industrial doors of midtown’s cafeteria, everyones voices started to drop into sharp hushed whispers, making you roll your eyes and pull your hood up over your face. you pulled your airpods from your pockets into your ears and tried your best to avoid any and all eye contact with anyone you did end up coming into contact with. you walked over to the food bar where you grabbed a red school tray and plastered on your best smile to the lunch ladies who work oh so hard to make sure you all were fed. as you walked through the line, you could feel the intensified stares on you, making your back erupt in chills. you didn’t like to be watched, and the fact that you were a so-called celebrity didn’t help your cause in any way.

“hey.” a low voice called from behind you. it was a girl with curly hair with gorgeous light brown skin, and a jawline that would cut you. you were almost astonished by her beauty, but you remembered the facade you had to hold, especially to strangers that you didn’t know.

“hey?” you asked unsurely, wondering if she was with the media or not. which was something that tended to happen quite a bit.

“don’t worry, i’m not with the press. you just seem interesting.” she said in a monotone voice, but still with a strong look of seriousness on her face. you giggled softly when your eyes locked and your faces went totally still, making the girl in front of you laugh as well. she held out her hand in front of you, while also balancing her tray and book in the other hand. you placed yours into hers and shook it, smiling when she told you her name.

“michelle jones.” she smiled, your throat getting a little tight at her last name, and you had to admit that it struck a little chord within you, but you quickly cleared it from your thoughts and introduced yourself as well.

“y/n stark. pleasure to meet you, jones.”

“pleasure to meet you too.”

“so, i get that you’re new here,” she started walking, inviting you to walk along with her. “what- what are you doing here? i mean i get you’re smart and all, but this is a nerd school; you literally could’ve gone anywhere, so, might i ask, why here?”

“hm, interesting question. seriously i don’t know. my dad and i don’t really get along so he makes the decisions and i tell him if i like it or not. which by the way, i’m gonna have to stay near you-- you’re the only one making this bearable for me right now.” you snorted, nudging your elbow to hers.

“hm, daddy issues. great song, love the artists.” she smirked, making you shoot your head back in loud laughter, gaining some side eyed glances from a few people sitting at the tables around you.

“so, where are we sitting? i usually nev-”

“hey mj!” you were interrupted by a boyish laugh and hoots and hollers coming from a table two tables ahead of you.

“jesus fucking christ. what? just because i got some and you didn’t doesn’t mean that you have to be that fuckin’ loud about it.” she grumbled, placing her tray down, slinging the backpack on her right shoulder beside her. you looked at her with a nervous but curious glint in your eyes. she gave you a knowing look which said, ‘just go with what i say’, making you nod in understanding.

“woah! holy shit! i m- i mean woah- nice to- nice to meet you!” the boy fumbled over his words, looking at you and michelle in disbelief, shaking his friends shoulder and poking at his cheek.

“nice cut, g. looks nice.” you said to him, giggling as you stuck your straw into the mini juice box.

“o-oh, thanks… g?” he said back to you, observing your looks with a confused expression written on his face making you giggle at his confusion.

“peter! look! y/n stark is at our table!” he whisper shouted to his friend, making you look at michelle with a smile on your face and playfully rolling your eyes. she looked back at you, rolling her eyes as well, gesturing to her head as if saying ‘idiots’, making you giggle and turn back to them.

“so, bowl cut dude, what’s your name?” you nodded to him, picking at your salad with the blac spork that was so cordially given to you by mj.

“n-ned, ned leeds.” he smiled sheepishly.

“and you, colonizer, what’s your name?” you tapped on the table, alerting the boys attention. you could hear michelle and ned hollering and snickering from their seats, but decided to keep your poker face rolling. but i mean, how couldn’t you? the look on his face was absolutely priceless.

“peter park- wait did you just call me a colonizer?” he cut himself off in his own sentence, looking at his other friends for confirmation, to which they nodded, still cackling at the fact that you had indeed call him a colonizer.

“peter park, hm?” you teased, ignoring the way you hesitated and ignoring the way your chest felt heavy when the name of peter was said.

“n-no thats not my name-” he said, tripping over his words, making you let out a chuckle.

“i’m messing with you. with what you’ve given me, i could only guess your name is peter parker?” you rested your chin on your hand, engaging in the awkward conversation.

“yeah. thats my name.” he said more confidently, giving you a tight lipped smile.

“nice to meet you, parker.”

“you too, stark, my pleasure.”

----

after the small encounter with your new found friends, you had gone back to your respective classes, which meant that your next class had peter in it. after you had split up, you decided to get there early to avoid any commotion surrounding you.

as the boring class continued, you heard the loud clicking of high heels in the hallways, which had to be one person and one person only.

“stark,” someone shouted from the door which swung open. low and behold, in front of you was the prickly bitch, your principal, mrs cunningham. “come with me, eugene’s parents have requested a meeting with you and your father considering that you had just hit their son in the private areas!” everyone snickered and laughed. finally someone had stood up to flash’s shit.

“y- you punched flash in the nuts? i thought that was just a rumor?” peter stuttered, looking at you in disbelief.

“yeah, the fuck was i gonna do? let him flirt with me? no. that bitch tried to grab my ass. i’m a stark, i was raised better than that.” you whispered to him, packing your bag as you did so.

“hm, guess you’re right. well, good luck stark.”

“thanks parker.”

--------

once you arrived in the principals office, you saw what seemed to be his mother in one of the seats decked out in expensive pearls and diamonds. typical.

“little miss over here punched my son in the privates! i will not allow this to happen!” fuck. you thought; another one of those stuck up cunty parents.

“pfft, probably paid to get their son into here.” you muttered under your breath, playing with your protection bracelets incase anything was to ever happen.

“wHAT? mrs cunningham, i will not allow this child to talk about my son this wa-”

“hello! i was called in?” a voice interrupted, one you could only peg as your father.

“ahh! mr stark! you’re finally here!” your hilarious excuse as a principal said cheerfully.

“i am! and i am here to.. come and have a meeting about my daughter's- behavior?” he asked questiongly, already seeing the triumphant and cocky look on your face. he knew you weren’t at fault, and you were gonna lie your pretty ass out of it.

“well, mr stark, we have a student in the nurses room due to the actions of your daughter!” she looked at him menacingly. he shook his head with a smile on his face and walked over to you, grasping your shoulders in his hands.

“well kiddo, wanna explain what and why you did what you did?” he smiled, giving you two taps on your shoulder, already knowing what was next. you two had a pretty good acting schedule when it came to it, when in reality, you despised eachother.

“sure daddy! eugene had been hitting on me for several days now, and even found my private social medias in use to.. how can i say this, use me for my fame? he tried talking to me, very inappropriately on several occasions, and even went as far as to try and grab me in areas in which i find extremely inappropriate, without my consent, might i add, which doesn’t seem okay with me. does it seem exceptional to you, mrs thompson?” you asked, while only keeping your eyes on his mother.

“why, i am so sorry miss stark! his father will be in contact, i did not raise my baby to be this way! im sorry for any inconvenience he may have caused you!” she gasped, raising a hand to her heart.

“it’s okay, i just request, may this never happen again? i would not like my privacy to be invaded, much less from your son, and can i please ask that he never try to hit on me, nor any girls at this school ever again? i can only imagine how many other girls this may have happened to, mrs thompson.” you sighed, your eyes filling up with fake tears. you reached up to touch your fathers hand, tapping it twice back, knowing that you both had just won.

“never again miss stark, once again, i am so sorry this happened to you.”

“it’s okay. now mrs cunningham, shall we see our way out?” your father answered for you, looking over at the old white woman who looked like a piece of cheese. she could only nod in awe, giving you the cue to pick up your bags and walk proudly to the door.

“thanks i guess.” you muttered, pulling out your airpods once more, hoping to seal the conversation with your father.

“yeah yeah, no problemo.” he muttered back, avoiding eye contact and stuffing his hands in his pockets.

once you reached the door, you remembered that you had left something in your locker, and informed your dad that you’d be going back to get it. he all but nodded and looked back at his shoes before trudging to the car.

once you entered the seemingly halls, much to your surprise, you saw a scrawny teenage boy lifting open a set of lockers, which you didn’t even know was possible, and pulling out a red and blue suit. once you saw who the hands belonged to, your mouth fell agape as you gasped,

“peter?”

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sage-nebula · 4 years ago

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Do NOT reblog, or I will delete the post and block you.

There are so many posts on here about “eldest daughter this” and “oldest sibling that” but there are no posts that talk about what it’s like to be the middle sibling when your oldest sibling is a complete and utter fuckup in basically every way.

I’m technically the middle child. I have a sister who’s 8.5 years older than I am, and a (technically step-)brother who’s nine months younger than I am. My brother became my brother when I was six and he was five, so the “step-” determination is really meaningless, but I added it to explain how he could be my brother when he’s only nine months younger than I am. Anyway. I have two siblings, one older and one younger, and so that makes me the middle child, right?

Well, yes . . . but also no.

As you could surmise by the opening paragraph, my older sister fucked up in basically every conceivable way. I won’t get into her whole life story here because that’s not my story to tell (though believe me, there are doozies in there), but suffice it to say that every single choice she made is one that most parents would disapprove of. All three of my parents certainly did. And so what do you think happened when it came to me?

I’ll tell you what happened.

Because my older sister fucked up in every way one could possibly fuck up, there was a fear, I suppose, or a concern that I would, for whatever godforsaken reason, follow in her footsteps even though the two of us could not be more different in terms of attitude, outlook, goals, et cetera. As a result, if I did even the slightest thing wrong, the punishment hammer came down on me with all the might of Thor celebrating a delicious beverage. I failed geometry in junior year of high school due to an undiagnosed learning disability (along with undiagnosed severe depression and an undiagnosed anxiety disorder, all following years of abuse at my biological mother’s hands), and I was put under lockdown for the entire summer. I was not allowed to leave the house except to go to summer school, I was not allowed to talk to or see any of my friends, or play video games, or watch television, or be on the internet, or read, or write fiction, or do basically anything besides the aforementioned summer school and listening to music. To this day, my parents think this was a good decision on their part even though they now know about the learning disability and myriad of mental illnesses. They think it was a good call for them to punish me like they did.

And so you would say, okay, but if they punished you that severely because they didn’t want you to end up a drug-addicted high school dropout like your sister, surely they would level the same punishments against your brother, especially since you two were so close in age! Well, you would think that, but nope!

Instead, when my brother was around seventeen, he got pulled over and arrested for marijuana possession. (I think he was pulled over in the first place for speeding, but I can’t remember.) His punishment was to have his car taken away for six months. That’s it. He still had all of his other privileges, was not punished in any other way, he just could not drive for six months. He got in actual legal trouble, but he was still allowed to have hobbies.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that my brother should have been punished more harshly, per se. I’m only saying there was a stark difference in the way that we were treated that my family refuses to acknowledge or own up to even to this day, and it all comes down to the fact that I was never cut slack in either direction. If I was compared to my older sibling, then the fact that she had screwed up so royally in basically every single way meant that I would be made to stand at attention so I could be yelled at for an hour for failing a math class, and then continue to be berated and insulted for how I was clearly never going to college (I have a master’s now, by the by) because of it over the next few days, and yelled at further for having “nothing to say to myself” in the face of all the lecturing. But if I was compared to my younger sibling, why, then it should be expected that he always gets off easier, because he’s younger than I am and the baby of the extended family and, well, I’m older and more mature, so I can handle it better, anyway. And I mean, I guess, for the record, true; I took my punishment in silence because as a victim of child abuse for basically my entire life I never stood up for myself against my parents back then and always just stayed quiet to try to make punishments worse, whereas he threw fits about having his keys taken away every single day for those six months, but also we have to consider how “mature” one really is if that “maturity” stems from a decade and plus some of child abuse.

Because see, that’s the thing, and what has made me really start thinking about this the past few days. I mentioned it on twitter, but a week ago I got into a fight with my mom (stepmom, the better of the two) over politics that has effectively led to her disowning me, I think, which in turn means that my dad has disowned me as well, I think, because I’m pretty sure he’s going to take her side on this one. I won’t get into the actual subject matter here, but the long and short of it is that she accused me of “attacking” her when I wasn’t, and has since then refused to speak to me, even when I tried to offer an olive branch by texting her that fine, I wouldn’t talk to her about politics, but I still loved her. She left me on Read. So the way I see it, she’s not talking to me until I apologize, and I won’t apologize, so she’ll never talk to me and I’m just effectively disowned, I guess. It’s not exactly the first time I’ve lost a parent, and actually, it’s kind of in the same way as the last time.

Fifteen years ago, I left my abusive biological mother to live with my dad and stepmom. (I’m going to keep using stepmom to keep it clear from here on out, just as I use biological mother, even though I do call my stepmom “mom” and consider her as such.) At first my biological mother kept trying to reach out with her pity party guilt tripping about how lonely she was and how much she needed me and yadda yadda, but in the last phone conversation we had, she called me a traitor for leaving her. Keep in mind, I was 15, and she was abusive to the point where the neighbors could hear every profanity and threat she screamed at me from down the street. They told me this. They also told me they always thought about calling CPS, but they never did, but whatever. The point is, on that last phone conversation, she called me a traitor for leaving her. I told her that I wasn’t. She said that I was. I told her I didn’t have to listen to that. She said I did. I said I didn’t, and hung up the phone. I expected her to call right back to curse me out . . . but she never did.

That was fifteen years ago, and we’ve never spoken since.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to speak to her. Actually, the one time it looked like it might happen (at my sister’s wedding), my Fight or Flight response kicked in when I saw her walking toward me and I bolted. I had a panic attack so bad I felt like I was going to vomit. It’s really embarrassing to admit that, but it’s true. The only time I’ve seen her since was at my nephew’s high school graduation (which is the only graduation she got to attend for anyone directly related to her, since my sister dropped out and she didn’t attend mine), but although we made eye contact I looked away pretty quickly and, again, didn’t speak to her. Again, I don’t want to speak to her, this isn’t me complaining, I’ve not lost a single wink of sleep for the fact that she never reached out again despite how my dad likes to go on and on about how she should have “never stopped trying.” (But also, he never picks up the phone to call me for a chat either, despite always telling me how I should call him, so.)

But I just can’t help but notice the similarity. Once again, I have a mother who is refusing to speak to me because she feels I’ve wronged her in some way, and if I want a relationship, then I have to be the one to reach out (even though I already did, but was left on Read, so she wants me to reach out in a very specific way that she won’t even articulate). This isn’t the first time that she (and my dad) have done this, either. When I studied abroad in London, we got into a fight over something stupid over Skype, and I hung up the call. I was 19/20, so you know, not fully mature, but expected to be. Two weeks of silence passed before I had to call them to apologize, because even though their daughter was in a completely foreign country and, hell, could’ve been dead for all they knew, they wanted to Teach Me A Lesson, with that lesson being that unless I behaved the Right Way, they wouldn’t be there for me. And I guess here we are now, about eleven years later, having come full circle with that.

And you know what? I’m tired of it.

Because here’s the thing about being the second child when the first child is a fuckup in every way: you are expected to not only not fall into those same pitfalls, but also to excel in every single possible way. Not only in terms of grades or whatever else, but also in terms of emotional maturity and support for the parents. This veers into the abuse I experienced, I know (at least some of it), but you know how I mentioned that my biological mother kept going on and on about how much she needed me and whatnot? This is because instead of treating me like her daughter, I was instead treated like her combo maid-servant-therapist. It was my job to wait on her hand and foot when she was home, whether that was through fetching her coffee or being in charge of the refrigerator remaining operational (this sounds specific because it is; when I was about 13 the refrigerator broke and she yelled at me for a.) not knowing it was going to break and b.) not doing anything to prevent it breaking), but also she laid out all of her problems to me day after day, month after month, year after year. Do you know how many times I had to sit and listen to the “your father ran out on me after 22 years of marriage” speech? And when I finally asked her if she could stop she yelled at me because I clearly let him badmouth her but I wouldn’t let her do the same. (He actually didn’t, and neither did my stepmom. She was the only one remaining bitter.) She “needed” me because I was the emotional pillar on top of which sat her own degrading stability. The second time I told her that I wanted to live with my dad (because I told her to her face that I wanted to switch the custody agreement twice, and got browbeaten down twice, before I finally left in secret and didn’t tell her until I was already at his place), she picked up smoking cigarettes again after having quit smoking while she was hospitalized for undiagnosed diabetes and told me that it was my fault that she was smoking again, because I had stressed her out so badly by telling her that I wanted to leave. And like, one, obviously I wanted to leave, is there any question of why I wanted to leave or why that wouldn’t make me just want to leave more? But also two, the point I’m getting at here is that it was always about her, always about her emotional needs, never about mine. My emotional wellbeing was never a priority in that house. I was always expected to be there for her, that was my entire purpose as her daughter.

With my dad and stepmom it was obviously different, and in a lot of ways it was better because, god, I hated having to be the recipient of the constant stream of stress and misery from my biological mother. My dad and stepmom had each other, so I never had to hear about their woes for the most part. But at the same time, look at what happened when I failed geometry; instead of looking into seeing if they could get me diagnosed with a learning disability, or maybe actually listening to me when I said I felt “burnt out” and pushing a little harder for me to go to therapy, my dad instead yelled at me for an hour and several days after, insulted me, told me I was never going to succeed, and put me under lockdown for the entire summer, cutting me off from my support network of friends. I came from a background of 15 years of abuse, and one fuckup a year or so later lead not to a reexamination of how I was doing, but instead a severe punishment so that I “wouldn’t do it again.” I couldn’t pass a math class in university and in my final year I finally broke and went to my parents about how I really wasn’t going to graduate college because of it, and they agreed to pay to get me examined for a learning disability which, whoops, looks like I had! And my dad still blames me for waiting for so long to get diagnosed and not telling him sooner, when the last time he found I failed a math class that summer lockdown happened. He still hasn’t put the pieces together between that lockdown and why I didn’t tell him about the math classes I failed in university. Amazing.

My point is, with my dad and my stepmom, it wasn’t so much that they used me as an emotional sponge or pillar, but rather that they were pretty much uninvolved so long as I performed adequately, and was the model daughter they could be Oh So Proud Of, but the moment I slipped, bam! Go to jail, go directly to jail, do not pass Go, do not contact your friends. My emotional needs were still not a priority because it wasn’t about whether or not I was okay, but whether or not it looked like I was doing okay in ways that were quantifiable, such as my grades. And I mean, to be fair, I wasn’t exactly keen on opening up about my feelings at that age and I was a pro at masking how I felt and acting like everything was fine because my biological mother would berate me on the car rides to school each morning to the point of tears, and then would yell at me more about how I better clean myself up because god help me if any teachers saw me crying, which would make them think she was a bad parent and that, too, would be my fault. (Protip: Washing your face with very cold water helps clear away the puffiness around the eyes that can be a tell you’ve been crying.) But even so, again, that puts the responsibility on me to do the Right Thing so that they could be there for me emotionally as my parents, and that is just—

I’m so tired of it, man!

I have had three parents and yet have never had the unconditional love of one. Never. My stepmom once tried telling me that she and my dad would love me unconditionally when I was a teen and she was trying to get me to admit I was a lesbian (funny thing is, even I didn’t know I was gay at the time), and my dad walked through the living room and, not even knowing what we were talking about, was like, “No we won’t.” So that was great. But the thing is this whole thing proves that she was full of it, too. Because they tolerate me being gay (while still trying to set me up with men), but because I won’t apologize to my mom when I haven’t done anything wrong but she feels like I have, she’s giving me the complete and total silent treatment until I do. Because I didn’t perform in the way I’m supposed to, because I wasn’t The Mature One, I’m being cut off. Because it’s my job to be The Mature One, because I was always The Mature One, because I never had any goddamn choice in the matter and the dysfunctional environment I was in when I lived with my biological mother (+ my sister, her baby daddy-now-husband, and their two very young children whom I was often put in charge of despite being in middle school at the time because their parents were often too busy doing drugs and/or sleeping to care for them) required it. Because I had to be Kept In Line so that I wouldn’t end up like my sister, but also it was just me that had to be kept in line despite how close in age my brother and I were. And again, I’m not saying that I wish my brother had also been punished harshly, but more that I wish that, you know, maybe some mercy could have been doled out to me, except it wasn’t, because I had two siblings on either side to be compared to and as a result one toe out of the line resulted in a smiting.

But in the end, it isn’t even really about that. This post isn’t really about how I’m simultaneously the eldest daughter but also the second child. It’s more about the fact that I’ve had three parents and yet have never had the unconditional love of even one, even from the one who said I had it. It’s about how my emotional needs were never a priority for any of the parents in my life. It’s about how I basically had to raise myself and it’s a real goddamn wonder I’m not even more screwed up than I actually am because of it. And it’s also about how I really miss therapy and haven’t been able to go for a long time, and I think this rambling stream of consciousness post proves that I really, really need to find a new therapist so I can go back again, because goddamn.

Anyway, once again, do NOT reblog this or I will delete it and block you, I just needed to get this off my chest, but I need it to stay here. Thank you.

#NO REBLOGS--//-- putting it there for good measure too #very personal ranting about past child abuse because it's 2am and I can't sleep & my life story is a Mess #and also I'm presently disowned from my parents etc etc that's what brought this on #''Gee Scrawlers why do you have such a preference for loving parent-child found family relationships in fiction?''#well [gestures above] does that answer your question or #not all of a person's fictional preferences are derived from their trauma but boy #some of them sure ass can be #anyway #i need to find a new therapist probably sooner rather than later

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adammilligan · 4 years ago

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so i’m about to go on a long rant about psychology because i was reading about the effects of loneliness on children + the effects of isolation on people, and i think this is something that can easily connect back to adam.

ADAM: You see, it was me and it was my mom. That's it. She worked the graveyard shift at the hospital. I cooked my own dinners. I put myself to bed.

based on the fact that adam uses the words “i put myself to bed” i think we can assume that he’d been doing it himself since he was a child, because teenagers normally are the ones to put themselves to bed but a parent is typically the one to put a child to bed. since kate was constantly working the graveyard shift, you essentially have a little kid that’s extremely used to a dark, empty house (think about kids and, let’s say, the kind of nightmares they experience—if adam had suffered nightmares, there would only be himself to turn to at night for comfort), which is where the loneliness factor kicks in—children with parents that are generally absent (whether the absence is caused by a need to work or by just not being involved in the child’s life) have a tendency to grow up more anxious and stressed, as well as being more likely to indulge in imaginary friends and suffer feelings of alienation (additionally, children living in absent houses have also been noted to be more likely to engage in unhealthy activity (drugs, drinking, etc), but this is largely the result of the influence from their peers. good friend group = better habits, bad friend group = worse habits. given that adam’s grades didn’t suffer + he became an eagle scout + he was pre-med biology at university, it’s pretty safe to place him in the “good friend group” pile). my point is, adam was very used to being on his own. he was most likely able to better cherish the time spent with his mother than most kids his age when she wasn’t working because he knew what loneliness felt like and it probably made him more receptive to people in general—i.e. having a greater degree of empathy, kindness, etc., especially since i’m sure kate encouraged these traits in him. she was probably the one who put aside money for and encouraged him to join the boy scouts in the first place; to promote more social interaction, maybe?

now, to go on to adam’s time in the cage: i’m wondering if adam’s exposure to loneliness from the time he was little might’ve worked to his advantage in the early years, before he and michael struck up a friendship with each other. this advantage would only last so long, since i’m assuming he was residing in near-complete isolation versus when he was on earth and could look forward to going to school and seeing his mother when he got home, and near-complete isolation quickly leaves detrimental effects on the human mind, including hypersensitivity to external stimuli, hallucinations, panic attacks, paranoia, loss of impulse control, memory deficiencies and more. i’m assuming that it’s impossible to sleep in the cage, too, seeing as it’s outside of the scape of what is perceived as “normal” by the human body and probably exists in a dimension where things are constantly at a standstill (does that make sense? think like how vessels don’t age when angels are inside of them, i think that describes it better). so his temporary advantage isn’t there for long, because it’s a prison that he literally couldn’t escape from. the symptoms above probably drove him to near-insanity and if i had to make a guess i think that he probably would’ve been the one to first reach out to michael in a desperate attempt for any sort of companionship as a result of the lack of impulse control that develops over time (obviously, archangels don’t experience things the same way humans do, but given that lucifer was scared of being trapped again + gabriel’s behavior after being freed from asmodeus i think it’s pretty safe to assume that similar symptoms do develop in them, which is probably what led michael to accept adam’s offer of a tentative friendship).

it’s a bit hard to imagine if you’ve never experienced any sort of solitary confinement before, but when adam says that they were all they had, they were literally all they had. it was sticking together and learning to be friends with someone from a wildly different species or dealing with a constant overflow of paranoia and hallucinations and hysteria from themselves. what’s even more up in the air is the amount of damage inflicted on their mentalities before they turned to each other for help. they could've both broken, at least somewhat, and then rebuilt themselves from the ground up. they grew and learned from each other, something evident in the quiet, angry way adam stared at lilith like he'd never done to anyone before and the way that michael was relatively calmer, more grounded, and less likely to lash out.

i know it's more...i don't know, fun to people, i guess? to believe that michael was the sole reason that adam turned out alright, because he protected him, or whatever. but the truth is that they both protected each other, in their own ways. even if michael "protected" adam from hell, even if he altered the perception of time in adam's mind or whatever theories i've seen get passed around (mostly to try and paint adam out to be someone who "had it easier" which is just rooted in the sentiment of people trying to paint the winchesters in a better light), there is no denying the fact that confinement is confinement and will ultimately have severe effects on those who are social creatures. there is no "protection" from the reality that one has been abandoned and left to rot in a box for seemingly eternity. there is no "protection" from the fact that there was no one down there but themselves and lucifer, who probably doesn't even count because adam was never once mentioned by him during any chance he had to gloat. really, the only thing that michael could protect adam from down there was lucifer. the rest was up to them. given the fact that their relationship has been shown to be one where they consider each other as equals, it's very hard to believe that michael was the only one doing any sort of "protecting" especially since if that were the case, michael never would've been so open to listening to adam's words in the bunker⁠—adam would've been treated as less of a friend and more of a pet, which isn't the case. if michael was protecting adam from lucifer, then adam was protecting michael from fear and distress and mental instability. they didn't just have one or the other, they had each other.

i'm sort of just rambling on at this point (if you made it this far, congrats! lmao), but i think one of the points i'm trying to make is that adam was already accustomed to loneliness (at least a little bit) and dealing with that loneliness long before he went in the cage, ever since he was a kid, which might just be one of the reasons he came out of it as okay as he did. he might've taken little techniques he used to make himself calm down when he was a kid and altered them to fit the cage, using them as well as he could and for as long as he could before it proved to be too much. given that adam grew up fairly independent, it must've taken quite a bit of time before he reached out to michael (whether that be from pride or stubbornness, who knows). he adapted to the shitty environment he was in and, eventually, he made the best of it. the amount of changes that must've been made to his body (constantly dealing with the pressure of a foreign, unearthly place + having a giant battery inhabiting his body) and his mind (having been under an enormous amount of stress and anxiety and probably depression from being confined) must be absolutely unreal. but he made it out. he proved himself to be of the ability to adapt and change, even under extreme duress (in the archaic meaning of the word, lol).

it's just super interesting to think about, in my opinion, and adam is a super cool character, especially when being able to survive like that and still being able come out of it with a goddamn heart of gold.

#this got ridiculously long i know but i started and i could NOT shut up #me: it's time to PSYCHOANALYZE CHARACTERS #nobody even cares but also this is my blog and neither do i so this is y'all's post of the hour #kate rambles #adam milligan #i don't think i made a clear point throughout ANY of this but like. whatever #michael

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i-will-be-forever-yours · 5 years ago

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Cuts Run Deep

A/N: This one is pretty close to my heart. I have struggled with cutting and anxiety and depression for a while now. Some days it get’s to be too much, and that’s okay. However, I want to tell any of you who are struggling with depression or anxiety, you are not alone. Don't discredit yourself, for you are SO special. If you ever need someone to talk to, don’t hesitate. I won’t judge you at all bc the truth is that this needs to be talked about more. We, as a society, need to normalize the need for help in the battle of mental illnesses. I’m here for you, as a person who has struggled themselves. It may seem like you are drowning, but there is a way out of this. I love you all. Thanks for reading.

Warnings: Couple curse words, talk of cutting and self harm and suicide. PLEASE don't read if this makes you uncomfortable. (TRIGGER WARNING)

Summary: Shawn and Y/n are so in love, but words can hurt and cuts run deep. Can Shawn bring her back and show how much he loves her???

Word Count: 2.5k

my masterlist

posted 4-4-20

not my gif

Shawn was in the studio this morning so Y/n thought she’d clean the house a bit. She had just gotten back from an overseas trip and was at home resting from all the lights and cameras. She was used to the photos being taken of her and the articles being written about her since she already had a name for herself in Hollywood, being an up and coming actress. That’s not to say that some of the articles about her didn’t sting, but she never thought she’d be so spitefully talked about when she started dating Shawn. The media truly had a field day at her expense, but she never told Shawn how she truly felt, wanting to spare his feelings because she knew how hurt he’d be if he found out what people were saying about her. Of course, he knew about the articles and tabloids, but he didn’t know of the snide comments she got from her coworkers or fans as she walked down the street. He didn’t understand how hurt she was, and she wanted to keep it that way. She couldn’t bear to unload her baggage on him, when he had so much he dealt with on a daily basis.

They met just under two years ago. It was pretty cliche, but to them it was truly was love at first sight. Rain was pouring down on the streets outside as Y/n ran to a small coffee shop to try and avoid the brewing storm. However, just as she was reaching for the door handle, she made contact with another hand. Pulling her hand back in surprise she looked up at this man. He had the warmest smile and the most beautiful eyes.

“I- uh,” she coughed, trying to clear her throat before continuing, ��I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there.”

Eyes shining bright, he said,chucking, “Well that makes two of us.” Holding the door open for her he followed her in. Once inside the safety of the cafe he introduced himself saying, “Hi, I’m Shawn,” while stretching out his hand to shake.

Looking at his outstretched hand and then back into his brown eyes she replied, “I know who you are. I’m a big fan of your music.” Slightly embarrassed, she took his hand and gave it a light shake before continuing. “My name is Y/n. Uh- Y/n Y/L/n.”

“No way! As in Y/n L/n the actress? I’ve seen a couple of your movies. You are so talented, especially in that murder thriller,” he gushed with flushed cheeks and a big smile adorning his face.

After ordering they sat down together and talked for over an hour, but it felt like a couple of seconds. Time flew by and next thing they knew they were exchanging numbers with the promise to meet up again. Now, almost two years later, they are living together and Shawn plans on proposing to her on their second anniversary. He has it all thought out, they are going to a romantic picnic and then going back to the coffee shop where they met. It will be there where he’ll drop to one knee and ask the question that’s been plaguing his thoughts for the past weeks.

However he is currently at the studio, as he’s been extremely busy finishing writing a song for her. It’s taken a toll on his stress, but he knows it’ll be worth it. He is really proud of the turnout and is ready to call it a day, after he finishes the last couple chords, to finally go cuddle with Y/n back home.

- At their shared home -

Y/n was content with the amount of cleaning she had done and decided to kick back and relax. She threw on one of Shawn’s shirts and sat in front of their large flatscreen in the living room. Lost in her thoughts after catching sight of the photo next to the tv. It was a picture of the two of them, looking at each other. They were completely smitten, and everyone knew it. Sure they had their disagreements, but so does every couple. Their love for each other was strong enough to know that they would always be there for each other. Even after the worst fights, in the end, they knew they’d be alright.

She was brought back when her twitter app notified her name being tagged in a tweet that was getting a lot of feedback. Opening up her phone she saw a hashtag trending that stated “#Mendes dump L/n”. She usually ignores things like this that pops up on her feed, but something prompts her to open it, and she later wishes she hadn’t.

It was just another thing that belittled Y/n and made her feel more insecure. It’s not the actual tweet which bothered her, but it was the comments from all the fans. So many people were jumping in and saying how ugly she was, or how she doesn’t deserve Shawn. She always grew up feeling like that. Never knowing if people were using her or whether people truly liked her or not. Since a very young age, she struggled with anxiety and inner demons. Her parents thought she made it up and constantly ignored her begging for medication to help her not feel like that anymore. She wanted something to calm her racing heart and needed relief from the anxiety that coursed through her veins, but no one heard her pleas. They fell to deaf ears. It got worse in high school when she started isolating herself. She would put up a mask to hide the depression and anxiety. It felt like no one saw who she truly was, but people liked the person she was with the mask. That mask started to become who she was.

It got so bad that she would cut herself. As the tears streamed down her face, she brought the razor to her wrist and would cut line after line into her soft flesh. She watched as the blood pooled out and felt a sense of calm, and now again she thought about it. She thought about the distraction and almost relief she felt from the pain that cutting brought. It felt like her problems left as the blood pooled out with the dark red. She wanted that relief again.

Getting up from the couch and going into the bathroom where she kept a razor, while in the back of her mind she told herself she was foolish for believing the lies that the people spewed, she held it with trembling hands. Then she remembered Shawn. The handsome man she’d fallen for, with a broad smile and the most generous heart. Then, remembering how he’d been spending more and more time at the studio. Maybe they were right and perhaps he needed someone more stable and beautiful by his side. Someone who could be confident with themselves, despite the dirt and shit people threw at her. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. So used to the emptiness, it felt like second nature to be in this position. It didn’t stop her from questioning her decision, but she knew she wanted the best for Shawn. Maybe, just maybe if she killed herself Shawn could find someone who made him happy, she thought.

Stripping out of her clothes and stepping into the shower with the razor in her hand, she let her tears mix with the pounding water. The water was burning her skin, but she didn’t even feel as it left her skin raw and burning. All Y/n felt at that moment was the emotional toll that years of scrutiny had left her. Her mind was cloudy and dazed and she held the sharp point to her wrist. Applying a little pressure, she winced when she dragged it across her skin. Blood almost immediately started to run out of the cut. Years of cutting left her with the knowledge of how deep to cut without leaving scars. Not starting off too deep was her plan, because she knew she had to build up to it. She cut again and again and watched as the blood escaped her tiny cuts. The cuts were light but her wounds ran deep. The pain was not external but was a raging storm within. It clouded her judgment and thoughts, to the point where she couldn’t feel anything but pain.

Her physical pain didn’t even phase her. She could only focus on the blood as it mixed with the water on the shower tile on the floor. Ragged, short breaths left her as Y/n thought about all the comments from the media and people. Falling back against the shower wall she clutched her wrist to her chest. She wanted it to end, the assault of the hateful words trashing in her head like a raging beast. Her thoughts were so overwhelming in her head that she didn’t hear Shawn calling her name.

- Shawn’s side-

Walking in the door, Shawn tosses his keys into the bowl by the entryway. Looking around he breathes out a deep sigh, letting out his stress. He was ready for this, ready to take the next step with the love of his life. So, as he made his way further into their shared home he wasn't even fazed when he heard the shower running. It brings about a sense of domesticity for him. However, his brows knit together when he hears cries coming from inside the bathroom. Calling out Y/n’s name with no response causes his heart rate to start picking up. Rushing in, he flings the door of the ensuite bathroom open and sees a sight that makes his heart break. There was Y/n, the love of his life, was sitting with her head down and her hands clutched to her chest. Moving closer, his heart pounds and his vision begins to spin at the sight red dripping down her left forearm.

Pulling open the shower door he stands dumbfounded as Y/n quickly looks up at him, with bloodshot eyes and a broken expression on her face. It wasn’t even her appearance that made his heart come to a crashing stop. No, it isn’t how her breath hitches in her throat or even the way she sits there on the floor of the shower looking up at him. It is what he sees in her hand, what he sees running down her arms. In those couple seconds, he realizes he needs to help her. So, grabbing the hand towel on the hook, he wraps it around her damaged wrists, careful to not cause too much pain in his attempt to catch the rapidly decreasing blood flow. Silence overtakes them as he dresses and tends to her arm. It’s a couple minutes before Shawn has the courage to speak up.

“I- uh, Love… Why did you do this?” he questions in a weak voice, once safely of the shower.

She doesn’t say anything, but instead falls into his body and cries. Wrapping another towel around her soaked frame, he wraps his arms around her to bring her closer. No words are spoken as he guides them to the bedroom and he holds her in his strong arms against his chest.

Y/n had her head against his chest, and something about the steady beat of his heart calms her. Just him being there calms the storm that rages war in her head. Her breathing has slowed and she feels better. Shawn looks down and sees she is now more relaxed. No longer are there tears or fear, but it has since been replaced with a look of emptiness.

With much trepidation, he speaks up saying, “Honey, tell me why. What made you do this? You know I love you so much. I-if I found y-you dead… I don’t know what I would do. You are the best thing to happen to me Y/n Y/l/n. Don’t forget that.”

Y/n looks at him, hearing the vulnerability in his voice. She nods into his chest and takes a few calming breaths before replying, “I just read a- some tweets that- um- that said you should break up with me. And I know it’s stupid and I shouldn’t read things like that. But something about it reminded me of what I’ve been told my whole life. I don’t know, I guess I started to believe them. I mean with you at the studio a lot lately.” She started to ramble, “and that’s fine! I am not trying to be clingy. I was just thinking maybe there is a better person-”

“Stop. No, don’t say that love. You are the only right person for me. I knew that when I met you in the coffee shop that day. I’ve loved you since then. Okay? Don’t listen to their lies. If they cannot see that you are so loved, then that’s on them. You are so amazing and beautiful, and I love you so much. There is no one that I would rather be with. Okay- uh so, I had a whole big plan for this but I cannot wait any longer. I need you to understand how much I love you.” he stated before getting up and moving to their shared closet. She hears him rummaging around before she sees him coming out again.

“Y/n Y/l/n, you are so special to me. Your smile brightens my day and leads me back home in the craziest storms. There’s not a moment when you aren’t on my mind, and I want to marry you-”

“Shawn what-” she gasped in shock, quickly sitting up and moving to the edge of the bed, with the towel still wrapped around her soaked frame.

Bending on one knee, he grabs her left hand, conscientious of the bandaging, and in a voice thick with emotion he asks, “Y/n Y/l/n, will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?”

“I- I, yes! I love you,” she cries. However, her tears are for a completely different reason. He stands up and places the ring on her finger and kisses her. The kiss is slow and deep. It’s not like any other kiss they’ve shared, not after coming home from a party turned on, or even the first kiss they shared. No, this kiss is so symbolic, and emotional, and it’s not until they break for air do they come back from that bliss.

Once again laying upon the bed, with Y/n in Shaw's arms he whispers, “Who’d've thought that we’d get engaged with you only in a towel and in our bedroom?” He has a cheeky grin on his face, and she knows what he is implying. She chuckled with him before he continued, “We are going to have proper engagement. You need to act surprised too. All our family will be there and want to see your reaction. For now, how about I take care of that towel. We have a lot to celebrate.”

She looks at him and smiles, ducking her head into his neck. Nodding her head in a silent agreement, she starts to place small kisses onto the underside of his chin. He tightens his grasp on her and flips her so he’s hovering atop her. A smirk plays on his lips as he slowly pulls either side of the towel from around her. Yeah, the night has just begun.

_________

Please reblog and let me know if you liked it or if you hated it. Talk to me, and let me know your ideas for writing. Love you guys!

#shawn mendes imagine #angst #writing #imagine #shawn angst

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mysleepdeprivedass · 4 years ago

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Another ML fanfiction idea

And here we go for another prompt fic idea that I got while reading a fanfiction on AO3. I want to write this idea but I’m too lazy for writing a whole fanfiction.

And just want to keep in my head but it was driving me crazy sooo let's go.

Btw I inspired by the fanfiction MDR by Yilena (on AO3) (@xiueryn on tumblr) (also I haven’t finish the fanfiction yet but I need to let go the idea of my head)

(let's go for translate everything a wrote again T^T and I just saw how long a wrote, the translation it's gonna be looong x.X also idk some term are correctly translate sorry if it's not)

Also warning, i’m going to talk briefly about eating disorder, bullying and suicide so skip the part in italic if the idea or the word can triggered you.

Have a nice reading on my 2.am writing idea. \0/

AU steamer / youtuber Marinette

Marinette begging steaming around her fifteen, and she become quickly know for her skills for some game

Marinette have now like 19 yrs old, almost 20.

She plays a lot of different games.

At first (when she was 15 ) she wasn't doing face cam steaming. After a years and a half, she start face cam but disguise. Her disguise is, a clothes always in polka dots red and black, and she have a mask which hide almost all her face and she wear a red wig (she have different wig, pixie cut, big curly, straits, ect,... But they're all red)

On twitch she is know as Ladybug, and she have a YouTube channel where she post all her rediffusion of her twitch live.

Marinette have a big community verry supportive and nice. She's the kinda of girl that going to play with her fan during live if she met them on the game.

She doing some explained and tip live on game that she's really good at or that she's love.

Her favorite game are Ultimate Mecha Strike saga. And a new independent MMORPG game call " The Tale of Miraculous" a kinda fantasy/fantastic game, that's become more and more difficult when your reach a levels.

Also it's a no-miraculous idea

At first, when she started live’s, qhe was doing a lot, like every night she was doing a live which ended around 4 or 5am. But after a big meltdown on live (she was around 17 years olds) she make a calender, which sometine change depending on he mood.

Monday Night : Games of her choice, most of the time she play at TTOM (The Tale Of Miraculous) or fighting games. From 8 p.m. to 1 a.m. or 2 a.m.

Wednesday Night : if she started a let’s play, she is doing the let’s plays, if she not she’s doing two or three games, most of the time horror games or strategy games. From 8p.m to midnight or 1 a.m.

Calender most of the time :

Friday Night : chill night, she talk or debates with viewers while playing at Minecraft or she opening fan mail or for some occasion she is cooking. From 8p.m to random but between 3 a.m. and 5 a.m.

Sunday Night : Let’s plays or games selected by the community. From 8p.m to Midnight.

Marinette has become very hermits and go out just a few time. She works at her parents bakery and has her own shop (known as Ladybug) her community know that she makes homemade clothes and she has a lot of customers from her community but also from famous people.

Every other week she doing a live between 9 p.m. and 12 a.m. in addition, where she plays indie games or flash games or during fashion week (or any fashion show) she like to do reviews about it and commentary.

Marinette finished school at home because of harassment, she had ended up making several suicide attempts, and had a severe eating disorder and was anorexic

She suffered bullying very early, already in elementary school, and it got worse in middle school where the physical attack was violent. She got kicks, push down the stair, she got a lot a fractures, spit on, etc,..

After a big lynching after school, she try to kill herself, she got hospitalized and her parents finnaly knew about what she suffered. After that she become homeschooled.

A lot of cosplayers ask for commisions.

Chloé had started insults her in primary school but had stop everything before middle school except that others took over, like Lila.

Chloe apologized to Marinette after her suicide attempt. Even though Marinette and Chloe are not best friends, the two get along. Chloé always feels it's her fault that things got there

During her convalescence it’s when that she became Ladybug but was not in face cam.

She started streaming after being released from the hospital

She had a general ES bac (it’s a degree in french school, if you want i can explain french school in a other post... because I’m french ._.) and she studied fashion by correspondence.

For the 3 years anniversary of her twitch channel, she explain her firt years as the stramers, he past, and explain that twitch literaly save her live.

She self-harm for a long time (betwenn 11 and 16 years old)

She still have drugs and antidepressant, and she is follow by a doctor for her eating disorder.

During her depression, she developed agoraphobia, she doesn’t go to convention where she’s invited because of that, also because she wants to avoid overloading Tikki.

Fu is her psychologist.

Tikki is her service dog because she have anxiety attacks and panic attacks and she can hurt them during those.

Tikki is a Labrador, viewers sometine see her during live (try to climb on Marinette lap’s) or hear her bark (very rare but can alway happen)

Marinette loved roasted the clothing collections and clothing choices in video games. She also loves talking about RuPaul Drag Race.

She’s openly bisexual and gender fluid,

She lives in a small apartment not far from her parents to be able to stream quietly.(And without disturb her parents)

Viewers know other room of her apartment. She stream on green screen, but when she live and do open fan mail she is in front of a wall with drawings and gifts from fans that she received. They also know her kitchen but she rarely on the kitchen.

She don’t do much live on the Kitchen but she doing some videos edited on cook video for explain some bases and some recepis. It is to teach the beginner how to cook or the person who is on a tight budget.

Her first cooking live become a meme. She fall several times, managed to stick an egg to the ceiling (god know how), set fire to heroven, and spilled milk and flour all over her floor.

In her live chill, call “let's talk little, let's talk well” in her playlist of rebroadcast on her youtube channel, she brings people on discord to give their opinion on the subject or their experience. She has with subjects from religion, the LGBTQ community, mental illness, to motor disease, to lighter subjects like which animal people find the cutest or whether or not she should go and throw eggs at her neighbor that she hates or she talks about the series or TV show she watches.

Marinette only go out, for work, appointment or hang out with Luka, Juleka and Rose, all are her childhood best friends.And all know that’s she is Ladybug.

Marinette is known for screaming when she plays horror games and there's quite a lot of compilation of her falling off her chair or screaming, often accompanied by Tikki who jumps on her knees think of a panic attack and suddenly she falls off her chair because of Tikki.

*scene*

Marinette after a litlle jump scar :

“ son of bi-” * Tikki jump on her laps*

Luka is also a stramer mostly music related, but he some night doing game stream. He also have a youtube channel dedicate to music. He is call The Viperion Silencio.

“what the fu- !” *fall off her chair with Tikki on her, Tikki laying on her*

Luka and Marinette dated for a year and a half before realizing that they were better as friends that as couple. Their get along even better after they break.

Hours :

Tuesday night: 8:30 p.m. to midnight, play video games

Friday evening: 8:30 p.m. to 1 a.m., review and play with Marinette at Minecraft

On twitch he sing or do some music reviews that viewers recommend. And if not play

He always showed his faces.

On youtube he does covers, original songs, has critical videos. All the videos are directed by him and edited by Juleka, him or Rose.

He also have odd jobs

Saturday: 8 p.m. to 2:30 a.m., sing, some reviews and a the end he play video games

Nino, Alya and Adrien, are TTOM players, and Adrien is a huge Ladybug fan along with Alya.

He has always been close to Marinette and helped a lot especially for her eating disorder. It helps her eat and regain a healthy relationship with her body and food.

Nino and Alya hang out in each other's apartment in turn

Nino is not a big fan of Ladybug but likes to watch her lives sometine.

Nino and Alya live close to each other and are dating

On the other hand, he's a huge fan of what Luka does.

Nino meets Adrien on a dating site, he made a account for joking (before he dated Alya) and the two got really well, and they started exchange discord, and phone number, playing together, and they already saw each other.

Sometine, Alya and Nino go to Paris and sometime Adrien go to Bordeaux.

Nino and Aly live in Bordeaux.

Alya joined them and the three are very close and have already met in Paris.

Nino, Alya and Adrien are 20 years old, soon 21.

Inside joke between Adrien and Nino, on the fact that Nino “cheats” on Alya with Adrien or vice versa.

Too many “bro” between Adrien and Nino, and too many bro joke

Like, I imagined, Alya hant out at Nino place, the three playing at TTOM.

Nino die

Adrien it’s like “Noo bro, you’re my whole world bro, you can’t live me broo”

Nino is like “ Broo I hace to leave, Bro my end is close, I love you soo much broo, live my life broo”

And Alya his laying on her stomach on Nino bed, head buried in Nino sheets and she growls and insults both them and call them "drama queen"

Alya is a huge sore loser and a salty loser.

In the evening and especially when he is tired Nino is a big game trollers.

Alya is a Ladybug Twitch Admins, she was one of the first on Marinette's channel and she quickly was in her Discord. She chats a lot with her on Discord. And she helps Marinette to make special videos where there is real editing. Other admins do it too.

Adrien, Nino meets Marinette thanks to TTOM because Marinette has created a beginner party where no one knows her, she becomes friends with Nino (whom she quickly destroy) and TIN TIN TIN group chat between the 4 (with Alya in it).

Kim is Nino's childhood friend and he started playing TTOM to spent time with his bro, and ended up in group chat (with Alix because he drag her in the game too), he's not good at games and and just a cannonball but he like let off frustration by beat out the hell of the enemy

Baby step by baby step, the group chat add more people

He live with Alix in Toulouse, their roomate.

Alix plays a bit at TTOM but plays a lot of flash and horror games.

Ivan and Mylène have 22 years old and are a couple, they don't know Ladybug much, but they've already received a lot of donation from her for their environmental association and Marinette has advertised for them for free

Alix likes Ladybug but she is not her favorite streamer.she understand Marinette's struggle on her eating disorder because she had eating disorder since she was a child, Kim helps her a lot with it

Nathaniel lives in Auvergne with Marc, the two work together on comics but Nathalie also works as a freelance illustrator and he has already made the banner and stickers for steamers and youtubers, including Marinette.

Ivan and Mylène do vlogs and have a site and an environmental association that Marinette really appreciates.

Max is a little streamer well known to be one of Marinette's best rivals, especially on Ultimate Mecha Strike 3.

He also does video thumbnails and cover video illustrations for a lot of youtubers including Luka.

Nathaniel started chatting with Marinette because of this (Marinette commissioned him for her website, and her channels) and the two became very good friends.

He lives in Strasbourg and works in engineering stuff.

He does very little live but has a very loyal audience because he's a goddamn god on some games.

And some compilation of their best roasted and sassy moment are on youtube.

The two fight each year for the prize of UMS3

The two like to throw shades at each other when they playing together.. Very big sassy and roasted moment.

* A bit like RuPaul's Reading season 5 between Alaska and Alyssa Edward * (Yeah i’m kinda in some fever of RPDR right now)

Like :

There is a roasted meme running in their respective communities, because Max had been champion for two years when Marinette arrived and took that cup from him.

“Hey Bug In ! Here Ladybug, I'm with our dear friend The Gamer, undefeated champion of UMS3 oh whait -

They talk on discord

Okay I finish to translate everything, and shame on my I finish juste by copy paste from google translate.

* gasp then clap * bravo, it was a good one, Miss [insert thing that Marinette lost or meme of her]

And their conversation is basically shades and meme.

Bruh I wrote a lot :o

I don’t know if I’m going to do some update on it. Give me your opinion on it ! Also you can take some idea just tag me and let’s me see what you have do ^^ !

Good Night

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alexsfictionaddiction · 4 years ago

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Alex Recommends: May and June Books

I must apologise for the late arrival of this post. It should have been up days ago but I’ve been struggling to read much for the last month or so. My head has been very foggy and dark with all of the confusion, anxiety and hate that has been filling my news feeds and I’ve been filled with a desire to combat it. Before this month, I’d have run in the opposite direction from any kind of confrontation but recent events have given me the kick up the butt to actively do better. I’ve been calling out bigotry when I come across it and I’ve noticed that some people, notably my older relatives, haven’t necessarily reacted favorably to the changed, more outspoken Alex. It has been pretty daunting and I’ve worked myself up into fits of rage and tears several times over the last couple of months.

A lot of things have changed for me since my last Alex Recommends post. I’m currently temporarily living in Staffordshire with my boyfriend because my depression got too bad for me to stay at home for much longer. I missed him unbelievably much and I knew that spending some prolonged time with him would help -and it has. Both him and I have spent 12 weeks religiously following all of the rules, so we’re both extremely low-risk for catching and spreading COVID-19 and being together was something that we simply really needed to do. Please don’t hate me for it! In other news, I have also started writing again, which feels amazing. I’m now a few thousand words into a queer Rapunzel retelling that I have lots of ideas for. Maybe I’ll even post an extract or two, when I feel it’s ready to show you.

In the centre of the renewed energy of Black Lives Matter and the undeniable exposure of the horrors that is police brutality, the book blogging and BookTube worlds vowed to uplift Black voices. I wrote a very long, in-depth blog post full of Black-written books and Black book influencers. Please check it out to diversify your TBR and educate yourself on Black issues, which is what every white person should be doing now and always.

June was Pride Month and I tried my best to compile a series of recommendation posts in honour of it. These included gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, non-binary, ace, pansexual and intersex lists. I’ve had some great feedback on this, so I hope you find some fantastic new reads. It felt especially poignant to put them together the same year that one of my childhood heroes came out as an ignorant trans-exclusive feminist. As a lifelong Harry Potter superfan and someone who has repeatedly publicly supported Rowling in the past, I feel the need to clarify where I now stand. I do not support or agree with a single thing that she has said in recent times with regard to transgender people. I’ve never felt my own status as a cisgender female threatened by trans people wanting more rights or believed that children or women were at risk due to their existence.

I read her words more than once and struggled to find any semblance of the woman who wrote the books that have most defined my life. I’m hesitant to say that we can always successfully separate the art from the artist but I will say that it makes sense to me that the Rowling of 2020 is not the same Rowling that wrote Harry Potter. She was a destitute single mother when Philosopher’s Stone was published in 1997 and of course, she is now a million worlds away from that lifestyle. It breaks my heart but it makes sense to me that she has changed beyond belief because her life has changed beyond belief. I’m not and never would make any excuses for her recent behaviour and I have stopped supporting her personally but I will not be getting rid of my Harry Potter books and I will undoubtedly re-read them several more times. However, I am now hugely reluctant to buy any more merchandise or special editions of the books, which saddens me but at the moment, it feels right. There is no coming back for her from this and I will make a conscious effort to keep Harry Potter and Rowling away from my future content. It can be really tough to admit that the people you once really admired aren’t great humans but it’s something that we all have to acknowledge in this case, in order to move forward with our own quests to become our best selves.

It didn’t feel right to post my May recommendations last month as I didn’t feel comfortable promoting my own content in the midst of boosting Black voices. So today I’m bringing you a bumper edition of Alex Recommends. Here are 10 books that I’ve enjoyed since the start of May that I’d love to share with you. Enjoy! -Love, Alex x

FICTION: Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng

Set in the affluent neighbourhood of Shaker Heights, Ohio in the 1990s, two families are brought together and pulled apart by the most intense, devastating circumstances. Dealing with issues of race, class, coming-of-age, motherhood and the dangers of perfection, Little Fires Everywhere is highly addictive and effecting. With characters who are so heartbreakingly real and a story that weaves its way to your very core, I couldn’t put it down and I’m still thinking about it over a month after finishing it.

FICTION: Get A Life, Chloe Brown by Talia Hibbert

When coding nerd Chloe Brown almost dies, she makes a list of goals and vows to finally Get A Life. So she enlists tattooed redhead handyman and biker Red to teach her how. Cute, funny and ultimately life-affirming, this enemies-to-lovers rom-com was exactly the brand of light relief that I needed this month. The follow-up Take A Hint, Dani Brown focuses on a fake-dating situation with Chloe’s over-achieving academic sister and I can’t wait to get my hands on that.

FICTION: The Rearranged Life of Oona Lockhart by Margarita Montimore

Just before her 19th birthday at midnight on New Year’s Eve 1983, Oona Lockhart finds herself inexplicably in 2015 inside her 51-year-old body. She soon learns that every year on New Year’s Day, she will now find herself inside a random year of her life and she has no control over it. Seeing her through relationships, friendships and extreme wealth, this strange novel has echoes of Back To The Future and 13 Going On 30 with a final revelation that I certainly never saw coming.

NON-FICTION: The Five by Hallie Rubenhold

Atmospheric and engaging, The Five details the previously untold stories of Polly, Annie, Elisabeth, Kate and Mary-Jane -the women who lost their lives at the hands of Jack the Ripper. Full of fascinating research and heartbreaking accounts of what these women’s lives may have been like, Rubenhold paints a dark immersive portrait of Victorian London and gives voice to these tragic silenced lives. Although we can’t know for certain if these accounts are entirely accurate, they feel very plausible and in some ways, The Five exposes how little time has moved on, when it comes to the public portrayal of single, troubled women.

NON-FICTION: Unicorn by Amrou Al-Kadhi

From a childhood crush on Macaulay Culkin to how a teenage obsession with marine biology helped them realise their non-binary identity, Unicorn tells the story of how the obsessive perfectionist son of a strict Muslim Iraqi family became the gorgeous drag queen Glamrou. Packed full of humour, honesty and heart, this book will give you the strength and inspiration to harness what you were born with and be who you were always meant to be.

MIDDLE-GRADE: The Super Miraculous Journey of Freddie Yates by Jenny Pearson

When fact-obsessed Freddie’s grandmother dies, he discovers that the father he has never met may actually be alive and living in Wales. So he has no choice but to grab his best friends Ben and Charlie, leave his home in Andover and go to find his dad! I laughed so many times during this madcap adventure and I know the slapstick crazy humour will hit the middle-grade target audience just right. It’s also a wonderful depiction of small town Britain with a focus on the true meaning of family.

MIDDLE-GRADE: A Kind Of Spark by Elle McNicoll

When Addie learns about her hometown’s history of witch trials, she campaigns tirelessly to get a memorial for the women who lost their lives through it. This wonderfully beautiful novel gives a unique insight into the mind of an 11-year-old autistic girl with a huge heart. Busting myths about neurodiversity while tackling typical pre-teen drama, you’ll laugh, you’ll cry but most of all, you’ll close the book with a huge smile on your face.

HISTORICAL FICTION: Hamnet by Maggie O’Farrell

In 16th century Warwickshire, Agnes is a woman with a unique gift whose relationship with a young Latin tutor produces three children and a legacy that lasts for centuries. This enchanting, all-consuming account of the tragic story of Shakespeare’s lost son, the effects that rippled through the family and the play that was born from their pain will send a bullet straight through your heart. Wonderfully researched and beautifully written, Hamnet is worth all of the hype.

HISTORICAL FICTION: The Mercies by Kiran Millwood Hargrave

When a vicious storm kills most of the men of Vardø, Norway, it’s up to the women to keep things going but a man with a murderous past is about to come down with an iron fist. At the heart of this dark tale of witch trials, grief and feminism, two women find something they’ve each been searching for within each other. Gorgeously written with a fantastically slow-burning queer romance, Kiran Millwood Hargrave’s first adult novel is an addictive, atmospheric read with a poignant, tearjerker of an ending.

SCI-FI: Q by Christina Dalcher

When one of Elena’s daughters manages to drop below the country’s desired Q number, she is sent away to one of the new state schools and Elena is about to find out something she’d really rather not know about the new system. Packed full of real social commentary and critique of life as we know it while painting a picture of how things could be even worse (yes, really!), this pulse-racing, horrifying sci-fi dystopian gripped me from the first page and refused to let me go.

#book recommendations #recommended #recommendations #may #june #books #bookworm

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sluttyprincessinarizona · 4 years ago

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Holy shit, alright.

So, first off, hi. I’ve been having a tough few days because of various reasons that I may or may not get into in this post. I’ve been bottling up all of my feelings for too long and writing things down has always been easier for me than talking about them. Basically, this is me spilling a lot of my secrets so I can get them out of my head. I’m sorry if this isn’t what you expected or wanted from me, please skip this if you’re not okay with a post like this.

TW//: Talk of anxiety and depression, mental and emotion manipulation(?), mentions of death and suicide, and just dark shit in general. Proceed with a lot of caution.

Hello. My name is Malachi. That’s not my birth name but it is the name I choose to go by. I am a non-binary African American person that is trying their absolute best in the life I was given. Admittedly, I’m not fairing very well but I continue to try everyday.

I come from a fairly large family. 8 siblings in total, 1 on my moms side and 7 on my dads. My mom and dad never married, they broke up when I was five years old, and when my dad moved out, I stayed living with my mom. My mom is bipolar and manic depressant and my older sister, my moms daughter, was a spoiled brat until I was born. From very early on, my sister would constantly tell me that I ruined her life, that she wished I was never born, that she hated me, etc. Unfortunately for me, my mom wanted me and my sister to get along so I was always around her. She would read books to me and have me around all the time. Because of this, I’m pretty sure anyway, I grew up to be very gifted. I entered kindergarten a year early, and all of my school life felt easy. I was never challenged. Even the gifted classes I was out in were hardly anything to me. Now, I know this sounds like I’m bragging, but I take no pride in these words or my talents. I’ll tell you why later.

Growing up was surprisingly difficult for me. My mom was struggling to support both of us so we moved house a lot. We moved into our grandma’s house at one point. That was when it was the worst. My sister would constantly tell on me, but when I turned the tables on her, she’d beg me not to. She’d promise that she’d ever tell on me again, and then turned around and threw away said promise as soon as I let it go. I was the “problematic” child. My sister berated me constantly, telling me that I was bad at dancing and singing, which is still one of my passions to this day. It stuck with me. Everything does.

Fastforward to middle school. I had spent the last few years of my life with a less than agreeable sister and a difficult to approach mother. I’ll get into my father’s deal in a little bit. Elementary school hadn't been good either. I was at a higher level than lost of people, so I would occupy my free time with books. PE and outside activities never intrigued me as much as most kids, and so I was then deemed the class outcast all the way until about 7th grade. Up until 5th, I trusted others way too easily. Someone could walk up to me, tell me their name and say they wanted to be friends and within a week I'd be telling them all my secrets and family troubles. It was stupid really, but no one taught me any different. I was betrayed a lot, and everyone in our grade knew things about me that I'm embarrassed to admit. It was heartbreaking to 5th grade me. Why was everyone so mean?

I was always more of a tomboy, even as a child. The girls were too "girly" for me and the boys didn't converse with girls so I was, again, alone.

By the time I got to 6th grade, I had already adapted a system. Go to school, do well, read in your free time, go home. No friends, no acquaintances, nothing. It was how I kept my heart safe. And it worked for a while. Luckily, I moved schools when I came up with the system, so no one was too keen on approaching me in the first place. Then, 7th grade came around. And holy god, was it horrible. For some reason, I made a friend. Now, she was nice. Very nice. We bonded over Undertale, she was great. We're still friends to this day. But I kept her at arms length, cause I had just broken the system. That wasn't apart of the plan. Even worse, I made two more friends. And worse than that, I developed my first ever crush on someone. All of my plans were failing, my walls were crumbling. But when these walls fell, my heart grew weaker still, cause having friends isn't as great as it should be. Especially in middle school.

Our small group was riddled with mental illnesses, and we'd joke about wanting to die at least twice a day. It was how we coped, even though none of us made any effort to get better. It wasn't the best, but 8th grade was somehow worse.

Our group split right down the middle. Half of the group wanted nothing to do with the other half. And I was stuck in the middle. I liked everyone, they were all my friends. How could I possibly choose between them?

And then, as if things couldn't get worse, one of my closest friends in that group called me out. Apparently, I had become so dependent on them, on her, that I was becoming "too outgoing" and annoying, and she stopped responding to me. I had let her inside my walls and she still hurt me deeper than anyone else. I apologized profusely. I had gotten so used to not being a bother that losing her trust was one of my worst fears. It scarred me. I spent days sulking, just wanting to properly apologize to her. I wanted to hear from her, I needed to. Eventually she forgave me, but the damage had been done. That was when I had come up with a new idea. Another system. I didn't execute it, but the idea sprouted in the back of my mind.

8th grade was the year of my first panic attack. It was dumb, really. I woke up, got ready for school, and realized there was an assignment I forgot to do that was due later that day. I had had a perfect record. My homework was never late, and it terrified me to no end to think that my streak would end like that. I sat against the wall of my bedroom, covering my mouth and hoping that I was crying quietly, so I wouldn't wake my dad. No one to help me, no one to ground me. I was spiraling for too long. The only thing that snapped me out of it was myself. I had to go to school or I'd be late, that was how I got myself out of that darkness. Pathetic, I know.

High school was a different battle field in and of itself. Sophomore, Junior and Senior year were pretty good, so I'll only talk about Freshman year.

I was very scared of high school. All the middle school teachers said high school teachers were ruthless, mean and impatient. They kicked people out of class, out of the whole school. School had been easy but high school was different. The mere mention of it made me nervous. Oh yeah, I haven't mentioned it before, but I have pretty bad anxiety. It's primarily social anxiety, but it gets bad at the worst possible times. I think I might have depression but I'm too scared to bring it up with my therapist, so that'll probably stay unsolved.

Freshman year wasn't very bad. It wasn't worse than 8th grade at least. What really got me was the workload. Self discipline, time management, all the mature people things that I had to learn. It made my anxiety skyrocket. I would be finishing assignments during lunch, mere hours before they were due. I was a rightful mess, on all accounts.

I had a big fallout with my dad, and that just made all of my problems worse. I'll get into that another time, seeing as this post is already too long.

Finishing high school was a breeze compared to earlier years. I made a small group of friends, many of which are onto bigger adventures in life. I haven't started college yet, but I haven't talked about what it is that I really wanted to talk about. The thing that's really been on my mind.

I'm nobody. I'm not just a nobody. I'm nobody. I honestly don't know who I am. My entire life, I had forfeited finding myself in favor of catering to others. I relinquished my personal freedom to make others life easier. I listened to everything my parents told me to do. No question, no complaints. I bend and broke myself to make my sister happy. I gave her so much of myself that I didn't have any left for me, yet she's still not happy with me. My friends don't know who I am. My mind is constantly thinking, I'm constantly drowning in dark thoughts and harmful words but they don't know. I hide it from them, I hid everything from them. I told them not to worry about it. And eventually, they did. It hurt. It stung. But it was my fault entirely.

My dad called me a robot once. I followed orders with feeling or hesitance. He was right. My constant thought process is all of my responsibilities. All of the things I need to do for someone else. Taking a break is impossible. Mt family needs me to function properly so they can live freely and without regret. I can't do that.

I can't eat what I want without making my mom angry in some way. I can't say or do or buy or receive anything without getting into an argument with my sister about how I'm somehow the spoiled one. Hell, I take a nap for too long and my mom gets upset at me. My dad is another ball game all on his own, so I won't talk about him right now.

What I'm trying to say it that my life isn't mine. My life is spent caring for others. Listening to other people over myself.

I'm horrible at taking compliments. I brush them off, deny them, pretty much anything other than saying thank you. It's not that I'm not grateful. I'm just tired of them. I've been showered with praise all my life, but it's bittersweet when you're taken advantage of every day. Taken for granted endlessly. They start to fade together.

Generic, everyday praise infuriates me to the highest level. Don't you dare say that cookie cutter bullshit to me. You think I haven't heard "oh you're so smart" before?? You think I haven't heard "you're beautiful" before??? I understand that you're just trying to be nice, but fuck off with that run of the mill fuckery.

Compliment me

How about you say, thank you for trying so hard for us?

Or, I see you helping out. I appreciate it.

Or, god forbid, you cab relax for once, I can take care of it.

Because god knows that I need a fucking break sometimes!

Oh, take a day off? Unless you want to come over here and handle my 101 responsibilities for this day alone, I suggest you shut that shit up right now.

Telling to take it easy doesn't fix the fucking problem.

One thing I know I do have are some major anger issues. That's not easily solved. None of my problems are.

At this point, I feel like I am my problems. Without my anxiety and my anger, who am I?

Who would I be?

Would I be better? Worse? Who would I have become?

I don't want help because help would change me. Help would get rid of me.

Whoever that me may be.

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writing-for-amusement · 5 years ago

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Commission for Confidence, 4

Summary: Y/N has been struggling with her self-esteem for years. After incessant pushing from your best friend, Y/N decides to commission an artist to draw her, expecting everything to happen via Internet. However, when your phone is stolen, you try to cancel the commission, but Peter Parker has other ideas. He quickly becomes enraptured by you, and a friendship forms easily. Will it lead to something more? Or will your past fears get in the way?

A/N: Okay, so the end of this chapter is admittedly a little choppy, but if I had included more, it would have been probably unnecessarily long (especially since I’ve kinda developed a pattern for myself with length of chapters). I’m so glad that people seem to be enjoying my work!! I’m thinking of posting some other stuff sometime soon, so I don’t burnout on this story, but idk yet. Anyway, enjoy this chapter, please give me feedback, I crave it.

I feel like I should mention that I try to be as neutral with looks as possible. Even if you have darker skin, you still blush, even if it might not be visible. Hence why I often refer to it as “heat rushing to your face” or whatever, but I try to not mention how red it makes Y/N look. If anyone has advice on how to do it better, please let me know!

Also, if you want to be in the taglist, just let me know!!

Taglist: @pparkerwrites, @scatterbrainedgenius, @jordyns-library, @wildfirecracker

Word Count: 2557

Warnings: mental illness (depression and anxiety), brief mention of deceased loved one, insecurity, lots of awkwardness, awkward “flirting” (??), Peter being a cutie pie as always

Peter helped you gather your things and waited patiently as you gave a bright thank you to the owner, Morgana. Then, he was holding the door open to you with a bright smile.

“So,” you prompted as you both started towards the subway.

“So,” he echoed, sending you a playful grin.

“We talked so much about me,” you pointed out, “so why don’t you tell me more about you? If I may be so bold, I’d like to become actual friends with you, instead of just minor acquaintances.”

Peter turned to face you, walking sideways, and was beaming so bright you thought you’d need sunglasses. “Really??? I feel the same way!”

You blushed slightly, looking at the ground for a brief moment. “I’m glad,” you admitted in a murmur.

Soon, the two of you were entering the subway, intent on getting back to Queens before the amount of people traveling got worse.

“So,” Peter began, letting you take a seat as he stood in front of you in the rather crowded car, “I’m trying to think of what medium to capture you in.”

You blinked in surprise.

“I mean, there is a raw beauty to just charcoal or regular pencil, but you are so vibrant and gorgeous, I want to do something more.”

Peter was staring out the window in thought as the heat filled your cheeks, neck, and chest. You bit your lip to try and stop the squeal or giggle of happiness from leaking out (you couldn’t tell what it would be, so you kept your mouth shut). You found yourself looking up at Peter, noticing how he himself would make a great model for any type of art.

Brown eyes suddenly looked at yours and you were thankful that the subway was coming to the next stop. It gave you an excuse to look away, his curious gaze making you feel tingles up your spine. As a tired mother entered with two small children in tow, you and another passenger quickly got up and let them take your seats.

Now, you were standing almost chest to chest with Peter Parker. You awkwardly tried to shuffle around him, so that you were standing next to him, but another passenger quickly took that spot. That left you right there, closer to Peter than you thought you’d ever get.

“Hi,” he blushed down at you.

“H-hello,” you stuttered. “So, you were saying?”

Your weak attempt at saving face actually worked, and Peter began to talk you through the pros and cons of other mediums of art. You found yourself to be incredibly intrigued by the way that Peter spoke.

He spoke so passionately that you could basically see the different aspects of each medium before your eyes. You could see brushes of acrylic paint, or the subtle blurring of watercolors, as he went into greater detail than you almost thought possible.

“Of course, photography will always hold a place in my heart, but sometimes you can’t capture the same emotions as you could with actually making the art yourself. The best part of photography, though, is when you—”

Peter was cut off as the subway car jerked and you fell into him in shock. You had never been particularly graceful, but at least this time it wasn’t your fault. You expected to knock him over; he was a fit man, but you knew you had some heft to you, especially with that violent of a jerk. Something like that would make you, or really anyone, knock over even the largest of men, you were certain of it.

To your surprise, Peter caught you easily, not even moving his feet as he was clutching you to his body. His hand was like comforting and warm candle fire on your waist, slowly heating your muscles. Beautiful brown eyes regarded you with concern.

“Are you okay, Y/N? That was quite the jerk. They’re normally not that bad.”

You nodded sheepishly, removing your hand from where it was splayed on his firm chest. You cleared your throat and took a slight step back, nearly regretting it as the warmth seeped out of your waist slowly.

“Thanks, Peter,” you smiled, albeit a little nervously. “I definitely would have fallen over if you weren’t there.”

"Well,” Peter began, smirking at you, “I can tell you that I’ll be here to catch you, anytime you need it.”

You giggled, covering your smile with your hand. “Then I hope you’re around a lot, because I’m the clumsiest person around,” you told him, realizing as soon as it left your mouth that it was incredibly flirty, at least for you.

Peter was looking at you with a look you couldn’t decipher, but his mouth was grinning. “Hey, I won’t complain about that.”

The heat rushed through your body and you looked at the floor, trying to calm your stampeding heart. Your throat felt a little dry, not expecting his response. You looked up and saw a skinny little thing staring at you with contempt, and your heart crashed to the ground.

Your brain quickly clouded over with negative thoughts. Of course, she’s staring, you’d never fit in with a guy like Peter. Look at him, he’s gorgeous and fit. And you are definitely not. She thinks you’re crazy for flirting with him. And you are crazy for flirting with him. He’d never go for a girl like you, you’re not his type.

Now wait just a minute, you interrupted the hissing whisper, how do I know what his type is? You can’t just assume someone’s type, you know.

Doesn’t matter, the hiss replied easily, anything as big and jiggly as you are is never anyone’s type. You should know that by now.

You ended up heaving a sigh, the hissing getting louder and louder in your head. It was blocking out every positive thought you’d ever had about yourself, pointing out the jiggle in your thighs, the fat of your stomach, the stretch marks that decorated your skin. It pointed out how your laugh was too loud, your smile too big, your fingers too fat, your cheeks unnecessarily full. The clouds became a storm, torrential rains freezing your body, turning your blood into the slowest river in the world.

“Hey,” a shining light of a voice broke through the storm, making you look up at Peter. “Are you okay?” he asked, his hand brushing your arm.

The tingles that his touch brought started to drop-kick the clouds from the forefront of your mind. Peter was looking at you in a way you couldn’t quite tell, but it was like he could tell you were upset about yourself, like he would tear the world to pieces to make you feel better. It made your heart crack, fighting to escape your chest and screech to the world that you were beautiful and worthy.

Because that’s how his gaze made you feel.

You suddenly brightened, the clouds on the far horizons of your mind as they always were, but they were done storming and flooding. “Yeah, Peter, I’m alright,” you told him sincerely, a small but genuine smile on your lips.

Peter’s molten brown eyes assessed you critically, making your body warm and thaw from that freezing storm. After a few more moments, and the subway car nearing your stop, Peter seemed content with your answer. He gave you the sweetest smile you’d ever seen.

The car came to a stop and Peter gestured for you to get off the car. As you fought the crowd of people entering, Peter hooked his pinky in yours in order to stay together. It made your stupid heart flutter up to your throat, but you managed to swallow it back down.

The two of you broke through the crowds and Peter unhooked his pinky from yours. The loud pounding of your heart began to quiet as you and Peter made your way out of the subway; the “fresh” air of the outside (as fresh as it could get, of course) helped clear your mind a bit and you relaxed ever so slightly.

Peter started leading the way to his apartment, which was in the same direction as yours. “The place is kinda a mess,” he informed you as you walked next to him, “but it’s not too bad. Mostly just a couple of unfinished works running around.”

“Hey, I don’t mind,” you told him, stepping farther into the sidewalk as a crowd of people walking the opposite direction tried to take over the small space.

“I grew up in Queens,” Peter stated, and when you looked at him, he was scowling slightly, “but lately, all these crowds have been even more rude than usual.”

You chuckled lightly and shrugged your shoulders. “You grew up in Queens, huh? So, you were here when Spider-Man became a thing, yeah?”

If you didn’t know any better, Peter’s shoulders tensed as he waited for the streetlight to change. Then, an almost nervous chuckle flitted over to your ears.

“Yeah, I remember. I saw him swinging around in that cheap ass suit one day after school. How embarrassing for him.” Peter’s ears turned a light pink color.

You hummed in thought slightly, glancing at him as he glanced at you. “I liked that first suit, actually,” you admitted. “I mean, obviously it wasn’t as effective as his following ones, but I’ve always admired homemade creations. It was creative in its design, at least I always thought so from the YouTube videos I’d seen.”

“For real?” Peter asked as you began to cross the street.

“Yeah.”

You were surprised when Peter began to laugh, pulling you into him by your shoulders as you walked. Your heart plummeted as he appeared to laugh at you.

“I’m glad someone liked it!” Peter then said, removing his arm and grinning at you. Your heart slowly began to clamber back up to its new home in your throat. “Especially someone with such good taste as you!”

Your heart raced to your throat like a mountain goat on the hunt for the sweetest grass at the top of the mountain. With your heart came a rush of blood and warmth.

God, you really needed to get it together. You didn’t know how you were supposed to survive around such a sweet man, with such a bright personality.

Eventually, you and Peter made it to his apartment building, which was closer to the subway than your own. He kept you entertained for the short walk, regaling amusing stories from high school and college. You learned of his best friend and now roommate, Ned Leeds, rather early on in the conversation. And you learned that he absolutely adored his Aunt May.

Peter opened the door for you, and you thanked him with a dramatic bow of your upper body, your nerves tingling happily as he laughed and copied your gesture. He introduced you to the doorman (making you realize that this was a really nice building) before pressing the button to call the elevator.

“Geez, this is a nice building,” you remarked as you stepped into the elevator. “The elevator in my building has been out for like three months.”

Peter chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Yeah, well, I haven’t told you about my full-time job yet.”

“I didn’t know a building this nice existed in Queens,” you muttered to yourself, though you were exaggerating just a little.

“I work for Stark Industries,” Peter stated, making your head snap over to him. “I-I started an internship when I was in high school,” he explained nervously, shuffling his feet. “And through college, I worked there too. And now I have a full job with Mrs. Potts-Stark.”

You tilted your head in thought, thoroughly impressed. “Wow, I knew you were smart, but damn, you’re a full-blown genius!”

Peter’s blush crept up the back of his neck and he shifted again, obviously sheepish. He muttered out a shy, “Thanks,” along with a sweet smile. “The great thing about my job, is that it actually leaves a lot of time for my creative endeavors. Mrs. Potts-Stark makes sure of it, actually; she’s very big on preventing burnout.”

“Stark Industries, man, they’re prestigious! I’ve always admired Mrs. Potts-Stark,” you continued as the elevator opened and you both walked out. “She’s one of the smartest people I’ve ever read about. She’s so strong, too. And not to mention Tony Stark. I always knew that he wasn’t as selfish as the media made him out to be; I once did research on Howard Stark, and honestly, Tony Stark, before and after developing weapons, makes so much psychological sense. Some people only point out his faults, like his ego or oversight. They say this like it makes him a bad man. I say that he was a great man, with his faults.”

Peter was staring at you, his jaw slightly agape, and there seemed to be tears in his eyes. Concerned, you stepped forward and tilted your head to look into his eyes.

“Peter? Are you okay?” you asked gently.

“Y-yeah,” he stuttered, closing his jaw. Slowly, a smile made its way to his cheeks. “I, um, I was very close with, with Mr. Stark. Sometimes, it’s hard to hear people talk about him like he was this perfect human, or like he was the worst man ever. But, just, hearing you talk about him like that? It means a lot. Y/N, it—it makes me so happy.”

Your hand twitched as you ached to wipe the happy tear from his cheek. You kept it down, instead pulling out a handkerchief and giving it to him. Peter took it from you and glanced between it and you before chuckling wetly.

“You owning a handkerchief is so on-brand,” he chuckled as he wiped his tears quickly. Quite unfairly, it almost looked like he’d never been crying at all.

You chuckled nervously and shifted your weight back and forth. “Sometimes, it makes life a lot easier.” As he tried to hand it back to you, you held up your hands and waved them a bit for added emphasis. “No, no, it’s okay. You keep it. I have… I have more at home,” you ended in a shy whisper, almost not wanting to say it aloud at all because you’d been made fun of before.

“How many?” Peter asked, no trace of malice in his voice. “Enough to be a proper damsel in distress?” This time, he grinned at you before turning to get to his apartment.

“I’m not a damsel,” you scoffed playfully. “Nor am I proper. I’m in distress at lot, but it’s mostly internal,” you chuckled. You waited behind Peter as he unlocked his apartment door (it was painted a dark red, and you quite liked it).

“I’ll have to introduce you to Pepper sometime,” Peter said as he let you inside. “I think you’d both get along really well.”

It was then that it really sunk in for you. You were about to go into the apartment of a man that you met just a few hours ago. While you were fairly certain Peter wasn’t a serial killer, you were worried about what this evening would bring. With your awkwardness, you thought it to be quite possible that the sweet and passionate Peter would kick you out.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x plus size reader #peter parker x insecure!reader #artist!peter parker #spider-man x reader #spider-man x plus size reader #reader insert #slow burn fic #commission for confidence

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internaljiujitsu · 4 years ago

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F*%! FEAR: 6 Steps To Becoming Fearless

I lived in fear for forty years. It felt like weakness — as if there was something wrong with me that made me more scared than everyone else. My mother would always tell me about how sickly I was when I was born. How I stayed at the hospital for a month afterwards and how my aunt just barely saved me from dying once (so I guess I was kind of on borrowed time). I hated eating as a kid and was really skinny, adding to my weak mystique. In school, what I now know was anxiety would create psychosomatic illnesses. I’d feel sick, but it was all in my head. Stomach aches, dizziness, shortness of breath — It frustrated my dad — especially when he’d have to come pick me up from school again because I was freaking out on the inside.

We grew up watching the crack epidemic take over our neighborhood. The drug dealers did their business out of the fourth floor of our building. My brother and I would sweep up crack vials on the weekends to get our allowance from the superintendent — our dad. The tiny plastic cylinders with colorful caps filled the dustpan as we swept the roach infested vestibule leading down to the spooky, filthy basement.

Several young immigrants that had just arrived from Mexico were found dead over the years in the building next door, where Dad was also the super. Death from unnatural causes was a very real thing where we lived. Around age eight or nine, my alcoholic uncle, who lived in a storage room in the aforementioned basement (and would sometimes walk me to school), was killed when he fell while trying to climb a building to get to his ex girlfriend. I was about ten when our close family friend’s son, a squeaky clean kid visiting from the marine corp, was murdered defending a girl in the playground. At eleven or twelve, I watched my best friend’s dad kill a guy in an argument over a prostitute.

When I was fourteen, I was mugged at gunpoint around the corner from my family’s apartment. My big brother, wielding a large, rusty machete, took me around the entire neighborhood that night looking for the robber. The dude had worn a mask, so my brother put the blade to every thug’s neck that we passed on the street and asked me to look him deep in the eyes. They all knew my brother and respected him. They pleaded for mercy. Thankfully, we never found the guy.

That kind of shit was common in my old neighborhood. Baseball bats were swung in search of skulls and group rumbles were still a thing. I had family members snorting coke in front of me by the time I was in the fourth grade (and immediately making me promise I’d never do the same). Forty ounce bottles of beer were smashed over people’s heads in street fights. My crackhead cousin once robbed a dude using my favorite toy gun. He confessed to me when I found the gun broken and complained to him about it. Bullets fired from roof tops for fun whizzed through the ganja heavy air. It feels like we fought every day at school. That big yellow bus was like the fucking octogan.

We finally moved out of that neighborhood when I was sixteen after a gunfight forced our entire family to jump behind a parked car for cover. That shit was stressful. I was jumpy as hell. It didn’t help that Mom and Dad were very old school disciplinarians, if you know what I mean. There were fights outside and fights inside — all the time. I was always scared.

And that’s how I continued to grow up — I just didn’t show it, or let it stop me from fighting. When it was time to throw down in the street or at school, I always did. Partially because I knew my badass big brother would disown me if he heard I punked out. Backing down meant you were a victim. I once accidentally stepped on his buddy’s shoe and apologized. I’ll never forget what the guy said, “You never say sorry. It makes you look weak.” But a man’s sneakers were sacred in the hood, and I sure as hell never looked for a fight — unless I was channeling big brother.

He loved throwing the first punch and bragged about knocking guys out cold at night clubs — until a near death experience and one hundred and fifty stitches thanks to razor blade slashes made him reconsider his life choices. I’ll never forget when the call came in the middle of the night. I don’t remember why I answered the phone instead of my parents, but the voice on the other end is clear as day, “Your brother has been stabbed.” At that moment I thought the worst, and was relieved to see him gingerly walking through the door later that morning, battered, bruised and slashed to bits — but alive.

When I pretended to be my brother, I wasn’t above throwing a preemptive strike. We all had it in us. Hell, my dad was known to go into some destructive ass kicking rages when people pissed him off. I certainly tried my best not to get on his sizable bad side. Mom and sis aren’t exactly shrinking violets either.

My recurring nightmare as a child was of me walking down a beautiful tree lined street, the very one I always wanted to live on. It was only a few blocks from our shithole, but felt like a world away. In the dream, as I reluctantly step, there is the overwhelming feeling that someone is hiding in the shadows, waiting to attack. I’m petrified to move forward, but I keep going — slowly heading toward the inevitable. It was terrifying torture.

I don’t remember ever actually seeing the attacker. I’ve attached a bunch of meaning to that dream ever since, but at the root was my fear. For most of my life I moved forward, steadily but fearfully. I did things that made me want to shit my pants and forced my way through, hating every minute. In retrospect, these all helped build toughness and character, as did my old neighborhood, but the fear persisted. I became a bouncer, champion bodybuilder and an expert martial artist, but felt like a fraud for the unease that was my base level.

It wasn’t until I took these seven steps that terror’s grip on me loosened. Fear doesn’t have to be your enemy. If you learn how to use it, it will energize your actions and help you break past limitations. But first, you have to acknowledge that it’s there.

Accept that you and everyone you know will die. There’s no way around it. Yeah, it’s bleak, but if you wanna live in denial of death, you’re liable to swallow a bunch of bullshit to ease your mind. At its core, all fear is fear of death. When I was a kid, I hated when anyone brought up dying, especially my parents. The uncertainty was too overwhelming. There’s nothing more worthless than fear of the inevitable. It took me a couple of years of suicidal depression, meditation and time in sensory deprivation tanks to get comfortable with the idea of not existing. The tank feels like you’re floating in the womb. It’s pitch black, soundproof and the water is the same temperature as your body, so it feels lke there’s no separation. You and the enviornment become one. It’s blissfully peacful. Sure, I don’t want to die right now because I’m loving life, but I know it will happen one day — and I hope to enjoy that ride as much as I’m enjoying this one.

You’re not your personality. It’s easy to feel like a single, solitary soul drifting in a vast sea of faces. Valuing our individuality as we do, many of us strive to be unique while others do their best to blend into the collective. The way I see it, we’re all the current that powers these appliances we call our bodies. I feel like I’ve lived several separate lives filled with rich, distinct experiences and at the end of each, I mourned the death of an identity. While it feels like I was different people, the throughline was the same. The real me didn’t change. Our personalities are just things made up by our circumstances. They’re the features of the toaster. We’re the electricity that makes it work. I had to lose everything I had built to figure that one out. Once my marriage, home, business, students, money and identity were gone, it was just me — I had to be OK with that.

Your ego is not your life. Learning how to lose isn’t about being resound to failure. Losing is vital because it’s the only way to discover that life will go on when you do. The first time I lost something when I was sure I’d win was devastating. Everything I believed about myself was shattered. My invincibility was gone. Once I realized that defeat wasn’t death and the people that mattered would love me either way, I began to enjoy every aspect of competition instead of only focusing on the result. It wasn’t until I stopped giving a shit that things clicked. Being afraid of the embarrassment of failure is guaranteed to keep you from enjoying success.

Forgive your fear. Far worse than being afraid was my sense of shame. I hated that I wasn’t brave, like the thugs in my neighborhood. To me, being tough meant never being scared. As I became dedicated to martial arts and more interested in understanding fear, I realized that all those guys were probably just as scared as me. It would have been abnormal for me not to be afraid. The environment was so consistently charged with the potential for violence that I frequently lived in a survival state. Getting out unscaved would have taken a level of psychopathy I didn’t possess. When I forgave the little kid I was for being afraid, the shame melted away and the residual fear soon followed.

Whatever happens, everything always works out. You always know you’re in the right place because that’s where you are. No matter what, the world will keep moving on. It will do the same thing it’s doing now when you’re gone. You don’t need to worry quite so much about making the wrong choice when you accept that it doesn’t really matter what choice you make. Yes, of course you matter, your family will miss you and you’re a beautiful soul — all that jazz. But in the end, the world will continue to unfold, and the Earth will be incinirated by the sun — so fuck it. Embrace the experience but don’t cling to any result.

Step up. A sure fire way to kick fear’s ass is to look it in the eye and blow it a kiss. Fear is a bully. It’s all talk. It will try to shout you down until you grovel your way back to mediocrity. Pick something you’re afraid of and do it! Don’t try to not be afraid. Be afraid and do it anyway. But here’s the important part: Smile while you’re doing it. For me, it was roller coasters. I hated them as a kid. They terrified me, and each time I got on one, I regretted every click up to the top. The thought was always the same, “Why did I get talked into this? Let me off!” I never enjoyed the ride, closing my eyes tight and clenching my body until the hellish few seconds was over. One day, I decided that roller coasters represented the fear I wanted to conquer, so I got on the legendary Cyclone. It’s the old, rickety wooden monster at Coney Island in Brooklyn. The thing screeched a death knell and I loved it! I forced myself to smile from the moment I sat in the seat. I told myself that if that car came off the track, I was gonna soak in my final moments. I was sick and tired of being afraid of fear. My mindset shifted, and the click clack became excitement and anticipation instead of anxiety and fear. Funny how those can feel the same.

If you wanna take it a step further, start embracing pain. It may sound a little masochistic, but I like to stare at the needle when it goes in at the doctor. I like going to the dentist. They both used to scare the shit out of me. Even though I had always sought out the painful burn of a brutal workout, it was the pain I deemed unwanted that I sought to relabel. Smiling at the dentist or laughing after my knee was popped back into place in training were not ways to prove to myself that my body was tough, but that my mind was strong. The anticipation of pain is normally much worse than the physical sensation. Change the way you see pain and the way you interpret the sensation will transform

Of course, no one is fearless — unless they’re a psychopath. Fear will always be with you. It’s what you do with it that determines how far you go. The fluttering in your belly is a sign to take action that scares you because it will force you to grow. The quicker your pulse, the bigger the potential change. Don’t deny your fear. Jump on, throw your hands up and enjoy the beautifully terrifying thrill ride.

#mind #body #mindset #motivation #anxiety #depression #mentalhealth #wellness #coach #internaljiujitsu #awareness #mindfulness #fear #fearless #competition #Performance Anxiety

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regular-lord-reckoner · 5 years ago

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so today was...a pretty bad day

my mom had bought some of those test yourself at home drug test kits so that whenever i do this detox stuff i bought i could see if i’d be okay to pass on my own and...

granted, yeah, i should have just stopped smoking the day i found out i’d have to be tested, but the way i saw it was..it wouldn’t have really ultimately mattered that much.

the stuff i bought is supposed to take about an hour and a half to kick in and then it lasts for 6 hours so you can dupe a test basically. it’s not a real purge, it’s just enough of one to get it out of your system (and have you piss a lot beforehand) that when you take the test, you’re set.

i’ve heard people have a lot of success with it, so in spite of everything i thought...okay, cool. i should be fine.

and worst case scenario, let’s say i took a test yourself at home test and i didn’t pass, i would have either tried to take someone else’s urine who i know is clean in or just...called the whole thing off.

it’s not what i would have wanted to do, but here again...either way i didn’t have enough time to just naturally purge my system. i would have needed weeks, not days.

given how...bad my mental health has been and all the shit i went through last week and then immediately having to jump into work and be fine, i did indulge some.

my plan was not to do anything today and tomorrow, drink a lot of water, exercise, and then the morning of i’d wake up early enough to do the detox thing and go from there

i know it wasn’t the smartest decision, i know it would have been the better thing to just...stop then and there, but here again...i am not doing well in the grand scheme of things and i didn’t want to just drink instead because A. i didn’t want to spend the money on it whereas i already had the other here and B. it’s just not the same. alcohol can either end up making me sick (headache, nauseous, sometimes actually throwing up even after not having all that much) and it can put me in a worse mental state. the other doesn’t do that to me. worst it does is sometimes i fall asleep earlier than i would have liked but that’s...also probably just the exhaustion in general and getting older.

but basically my mom had wanted me to go ahead and use one of the kits just to see where i was at and i was like...well, it’s going to be positive right now and i had to admit that i haven’t abstained since i got the news i’d be taking this test and she got...pretty mad at me.

and i get it, like..it was a dumb thing to do, i know that.

but i ended up breaking down and telling her why and that...didn’t help

i told her that i’m not okay and haven’t been okay for a super long time and at what level it’s at which is... a lot of the time they’re the only reason i even bother.

i didn’t say this because by that point i’d done enough damage, but like...honest to god, my plan in life for the longest time has been just sticking around long enough until they both eventually die and if my life still sucks at that point and i still feel this way then like...peace out, i’m finally done.

i know i can never do anything to myself because i wouldn’t want to put them through that again. i can’t tell you how...trapped that’s made me feel.

and i’m gonna get into some real shit talk about suicide here so...feel free to not keep reading, but to me having that in my back pocket used to be the only comfort i felt like i really had.

it’s kind of like making note of where all the exits are when you’re in an unfamiliar place and you’re nervous or you’re on a plane. you don’t necessarily want to have to use those things, but it’s nice knowing that like...if shit goes belly up you’ve got a way out.

ever since my sister did what she did, my way out was taken from me. i know full and goddamn well the ramifications it would have on my parents if not one, but two of their children (and in my mom’s case, her only children) did that.

i may be a shitty and selfish person in a lot of regards, but i know that’s not something i could ever do to them and yet...it’s put me in this position where in my absolute worst possible moments i don’t even have that exit sign in the background. i don’t even have that to even begin to think about because it’s a non-option and again...i know that sounds weird and backwards and to anyone else it’s like, “well good, you shouldn’t!!!” but it’s how i feel. right or wrong, it’s how i feel and i’m sorry if it’s wrong, but i’ve had bad mental health for a very, very long time.

that’s not an exaggeration, that’s not something i’m saying because i want my issues to seem bigger than they are, it’s just the truth of the matter.

and the truth of the matter as well is that i know it could be a lot worse. compared to a lot of friends and family i’ve had, i do fairly well. i’ve been able to hold it together pretty decently.

the only hits i’ve really taken are my own personal life and the limitations i’ve put on myself, but for the most part i’ve managed to do what i’m supposed to do, be who i’m supposed to be, and just....carry on with shit.

but it’s been really fucking hard, especially these past few months or maybe even years at this point, i don’t really know. and i know it’s not great to go run to a substance to help you cope with shit, but i figured of all the shit i could be doing to myself and could be getting into i was really doing the least and ultimately my goal in all of this is still to ultimately get to a place where that isn’t something i do because i feel like i can’t cope with life and myself otherwise but just because i want to or it’s fun (which a lot of the time it is, not every day of my life is absolute misery but this past week has been uh...hahah....rough).

in any case, i...get why dropping that bomb now wasn’t great and i always knew it would be hard for them to hear, but they didn’t really react well at all.

i know i sometimes keep shit to myself to the point where i think it hurts and frustrates people who care about me because they feel like i don’t trust them or i’m just being stubborn and determined to carry all this shit on me until i can’t anymore, but it’s...it’s this.

it’s because i always knew on some level that if i got to a point where i did a fuckup because i’m so mentally ill and in such a bad place that trying to explain why and what’s really going on beneath the surface would just result in more hurt and upset and ultimately it wouldn’t be about like....oh anna, i’m so sorry i didn’t realize it was that bad, i’m sorry for yelling at you even though i still think you did a dumb thing it’s just...now i feel bad for making them have to realize this about me and now i just feel...i dunno.

i know ultimately no matter what the goal of my life should be to want to be alive for myself and really no one else but in my mind it’s just like....oh. the only reasons i’ve even been bothering and have been trying to hold it together for are just...upset at me for this.

like nobody gave me a hug, nobody told me it’s going to be okay, nobody wanted to actually talk about it, it almost just felt like i did something wrong by saying it and granted, i know it was terrible timing and i was at least able to have my mom admit she could understand why i did and i dunno, maybe everyone just needs to sleep on it and take a step back, but it just hurts

i don’t think my parents are bad people, i don’t think they hate me or don’t care about me, but i do know that they both have a lot of their own issues and are not the best at communicating shit and all my life it’s always been easier to like...appease me or appease my sister by giving us stuff than it is to actually talk to us.

if a problem can’t be quickly fixed by doing something or buying something i think it scares them and they don’t want to deal with it. and i brought this specific instance up as well which i’m sure didn’t help, but i felt like i needed to say which is that when i was in high school (freshman year, i think) i had said one day at school that when i got home i was going to kill myself.

i was really upset that day, but it was still pretty early on in the day and i’m sure if i’d just...gone about my business i would have eventually calmed down and would have been fine, but the friends who heard me say this went and reported it and so the counselor had to tell my parents and that...sucked

during that time my mom was ready to take away all the horror movies i watched, the books i read, and even the music i listened to because she thought that must have been what was making me depressed and at one she at least insinuated that i was only like this because my best friend at the time was having so many problems and so...yeah

and in her mind, all she meant by that was sometimes teenagers will get easily influenced by their friends or will be so close to them that they do take on some of their personality traits or shit like that, but like....i dunno, man. as someone who had for the first time had it be known to their family that they were experiencing suicidal thoughts to have it immediately be blamed on outside sources and the only things in my life that brought me any source of joy or comfort was kind of a pretty big blow and regardless of what she meant or thought she said, i took away from that “you’re just copying your friend, this isn’t real” and so...i never spoke about it again.

at most, i’ve talked about my anxiety, about things that trigger what i suspect is ptsd, and a liiiittle about depression, but especially since that happened with my sister i’ve tried my very best to keep that from them because i didn’t want them to worry. i understand why they would and trust me, if i’d wanted to throw this in their faces just to hurt them i would have. a long time ago.

i wish i hadn’t now because it had the very effect i was always afraid of which is that i’d just cause more harm and hurt than i ever would garner understanding for what i’m going through and where i’m at, but what’s done is done, i guess.

i really wasn’t trying to self-sabotage myself with this whole ordeal and i know it was stupid of me, i know that. i wish i’d been stronger and i just could have gone a few days without doing anything or if nothing else i wish i’d just...taken the test today and been like, “oh no, looks like it was just too in my system period for there to be a difference, hope this detox thing works” but i didn’t.

i wish for my own sake i was better and certainly by this point in life that these weren’t the kinds of decisions i was making or where i’d be at in life.

really, if i’d had any kind of handle on my shit at all i would have done everything right from the beginning.

i wouldn’t have left my other job until i 100% had something lined up and secured and could have just moved smoothly from one thing to the next and none of this would even matter.

who knows, if i’d done that i could probably already be in therapy by now slowly but surely working on all this shit and then by the time i was ready to talk about this stuff it would have been past tense and sure, there probably would have been some upset over “why didn’t you tell us?” but it at least wouldn’t be like...this.

this where i’m valid in the fact that i’m clearly going through some shit, clearly have done stupid things because of it and have actively fucked up my life and deserve to have people who care about me be frustrated and upset with me but now it’s like...oh and they also know that you still deal with suicidal thoughts and shit and now THAT’S going to be a thing.

i dunno. none of this probably makes any sense because i’m in such a weird head space and because i’m clearly not doing so good, but despite what anyone thinks i’ve still been steadfast in the fact that i’m not going to do anything to myself.

no matter how upsetting today has been i’m not going to go all 13 reasons why and do something like that and hold everyone in my life accountable for it because i know that’s shitty and unfair. i guess i’m just...hurt because i don’t think anybody realizes how hard it’s been for me to keep it together the way i have for so long and how i’ve been doing it for them and yet...when i dare not be okay for like five seconds it’s the end of the goddamn world and the very people i’m trying to stay alive for are just...upset with me over it. they’re more so hurt that i would even insinuate that it’s hard for me to to open up to them and talk about this stuff (especially my dad like... i know he doesn’t mean to do this because he has such bad communication problems that it doesn’t occur to him why this is shitty but like... if you have a problem he can’t just make it better by pointing out the good things and saying, “hey, even if all of this sucks at least there’s this to hold on to” it’s instead like...”it could be a lot worse and i’ve been through a lot worse so i don’t get why you’re so upset” type of thing and that just....doesn’t fucking help. at all. and i know this about him, so i especially don’t try to talk to him about shit and i do talk to my mom about more stuff, but i guess anything that even seems like it could reflect badly on her and make her feel like she failed as a parent is tough for her to have to hear, hence why the first time around it couldn’t even just be that i had a chemical imbalance or anything like that it was...my friend’s fault or the media i liked’s fault and i very quickly got the impression that hey, this isn’t someone i can talk to about this stuff so i just...haven’t).

and i know it’s not fair to generalize shit like this and just shut down and refuse to talk to anyone about anything, especially when i’ve had validating experiences in talking to other people about my problems and it’s been fine, but....overall this is something i struggle with and it’s not something i do to intentionally hurt or shut anyone out.

it’s because of shit like this specifically. that i’m so afraid if i finally say, “hey, i’m really not okay here” or i do something that reveals as much that the response is going to be so much more about other shit than it is like...holy shit, are you okay, though? what can we do about this?

i know i’m an adult, i know it’s ultimately my responsibility to deal with all of this and it’s ultimately down to me to actually fix this and get a handle on things, i just...had hoped i’d be able to before i ever let it be known just how bad things were because i didn’t feel like i’d be taken seriously and now...well....i dunno.

like i said, maybe everyone just needs some time to settle down and get some sleep and shit because i realize this wasn’t the right time to drop this bomb and it is indeed a bomb (for them at least, and that’s what i have to keep reminding myself is that even though i’ve obviously known i’ve felt this way a long time...they clearly haven’t) but i also don’t really know when the right time would have been, y’know?

if things had been going perfectly well and especially seeing as how for the most part i have held up so well like.......how would that have gone? if i’d just out of the blue sat them down and said, “hey, i know everything seems great right now and you’re not at all worried about me, but guess what? you should be.”

i just can’t imagine that going over so well, so...yeah, i brought it up now because shit’s pretty awful and i was getting yelled at for doing something that, admittedly, was dumb but was the direct result of shit being pretty bad and i felt like that was as good of a time as any to admit what’s really been going on with me. i’m sorry it wasn’t convenient, but it is what it is.

idk. maybe this needed to happen so that, yet again, i get it through my skull that if i’m going to do this, if i’m really going to get better, that it has to be for me first and foremost and that i can’t have the only reason i try at all before for other people, but i wish there had been a like...gentler way to get that through to me? or maybe i’m so stubborn it had to be this bad? i don’t know.

i’d just...really like to have everything stop falling on top of me all the time. even from my own actions like...i just want to get to that place in the future where i’ve finally done the hard work of getting better and all of this is behind me and i’m at least okay. i don’t have to be great, my life doesn’t have to do a complete 180, but just somewhere better than this where i feel like i have a better handle on things.

there’s also that skin-crawly feeling of just...you said too much. you shared too much. you let people in. you let people know something. and yeah, i’m obviously doing that now but it’s easy to tell yourself that if you post something like this that very few people will read it and the people that do are at least in the same boat or have been in the same boat or who aren’t people in my life who would be super emotionally impacted by something like this, y’know?

i know part of getting better will entail opening up more to others, even when there’s a potential for it to backfire and go badly like it has today, but right now i’m not really in the place to handle that kind of reaction so it’s been hard and made even harder by the fact that i’ve obviously not indulged today so like...shit’s gonna be really rough for me

i’m not going to proof read this because i just don’t have the energy so i’m sorry if it doesn’t make any sense or if just in general this is upsetting to read. i feel like all i do is get on here to complain about my problems and cry about how much i hate my life and i hate that, but already i have such a hard time opening up and talk about shit even when i know i have people i can talk to who won’t judge me or make things worse and this certainly hasn’t helped so this one’s going to the void

i’m going to still try to pursue therapy (even tho just sitting down and picturing talking to someone about any of this makes me immediately burst into tears, so that’s a good sign) but for today and probably tomorrow i just need to like...distract myself i guess.

so far i’ve just been watching youtube videos and playing games on my phone which has worked pretty well. i feel like everything’s kind of weighing on how monday goes and if i do one of these at home tests before i leave and it’s still positive i think i’ll just call the whole thing off, even if i have to lie and say i found another job or something like that, i’ll do it and i’ll bust my ass until i’m able to find something else even if it’s something i’m going to hate doing or that doesn’t pay that much, just...anything to be out of this situation at this point. i’m really hoping this stuff i bought really does work like everyone says it does and like i said, all of this stress and worry will have been for nothing in the first place, but...still. gonna be a little rough until then. may try to sleep a lot tomorrow too just so i can get to that day and get it over with, whatever the outcome ends up being.

this is far too long so i’ll wrap this up now, but i’m okay (not generally speaking, but in the here and now). i’m not going to do anything. i don’t really want to talk about it anymore than what i’ve typed out, at least for right now. i’m sorry for complaining so much and i hope one day soon i’ll have good things to share and stuff i can post about that i’m proud of myself for, but today’s definitely not that day.

i don’t say this because i want anyone to dunk on my parents or tell me that they’re bad people because they’re not. i’d obviously hoped for better reactions, but knowing them and knowing what we’ve all been through i always knew on some level this wouldn’t go over well and unfortunately because of my own actions it’s all sort of come to a head today and it wasn’t great. i just need some place to like...get this out and i feel like i have so i’m going to go back to distracting myself. i know just about everyone i know is also going through some shit right now and i hope we all soon can catch a fucking break because jesus christ, man.

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lunamoonprism90-blog · 5 years ago

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First blog

Hey there. As the title says, this is my first blog!

I’ve got to be honest, I am pretty scared doing this but I am hoping that I can overcome that and use this platform to express feelings and topics I want to write about :).

I don’t mind if anyone ever reads this, to be honest this is just for me. So, lets start!

A little bit of the basic stuff about me -

I’m 29 and live in London, UK. I’m married and have a doggo, I have a decent job. Seem’s like a pretty average, nice life.

Here’s the thing (and the reason I wanted to start this blog), I have depression and have problems with anxiety. Usually, like 80% of the time I’m pretty much okay, or at least I sort of just muddle through the every day.

A bit of a background on my “journey with depression and anxiety” - As a young child, I was painfully shy around others. I was always nervous to make friends by myself, I’d usually wait for people to speak to me first. Of course, growing up I had plenty of friends though! I was always scared to go anywhere by myself, I clung to my parents quite a bit. Even at a young age, of about 3 or 4 I would make up excuses to try get out of situations that frightened me.

As I got older, I did gain some confidence but I was still pretty quiet. Especially when it came to something I felt ZERO confidence in, such as maths classes (I suck at maths haha). I could never quite understand what it was I was missing, or why I didn’t understand what was being explained in class. Moving on, PUBERTY! Puberty hit me early on, in primary school in fact. I started to develop way earlier than my friends. I did for the most part ignore it, thinking my friends will catch up and we’ll be the same eventually. Secondary school started and I think this is when the issue with my body started to come in to play. My friends all grew and stayed slim. I stayed the same height from early on in my teens. My boobs were bigger than my friends and I hated that I had a much bigger chest than everyone else. I looked at myself as short and podgy and so began the comparison of myself to others. I had braces for a large chunk of my teens too - this is also made me very wary of my appearance.

Looking back, I was very slim as a teen and I weighed only about 7 and a half stone, but I thought I was fat/chubby. There was a point when I was hanging around with some girls who were pretty cruel to not only myself but to my other friends too. They made me feel ugly. I get why they did it - they were deeply insecure themselves. Teenagers are, I’ve not met a teen in my whole life who isn’t insecure about something! Its normal, I guess?

The older I got, I started to doubt myself and due to that I let myself fail in a number of areas, one being school. I let boys affect my mood and I allowed myself to base my whole being off of them and how they made me feel, whether it be happy or sad (mainly the latter). I as cruelly compared to other young girls and told I was second best etc. What a thing to tell anyone, but looking back again it was coming from another teenager who definitely did not know the severity of their words. Words that I would carry on with me even to this day.

I met my future husband at quite a young age (still a teen though) - 17 years old. He helped marginally with my confidence, but at the same time could knock it all away with a click of his fingers. I wanted to be perfect for him, I wanted to be number 1. Because of all the self doubt I had about myself, I struggled to see that I was number 1 to him. Not to say that me and my husband haven’t had bad times and that he is perfect. Far from it, but I’ll explain more on that shortly.

In to my 20′s now and I started to slowly put on weight, I had fallen out with a lot of my school friends. I was becoming isolated and pretty miserable. At 20 I went to uni. The next 4 years at uni were hard, extremely hard. I felt guilty for going to to uni - my husband had his own insecurities about me going to uni (bear in mind I didn’t move away for uni and in fact lived only 20 minutes away). I struggled to feel worthy at uni. I compared myself to others, everyone was so much smarter than I was. They always knew what to say and they had good grades etc... so I started to despise others in my classes and my anxiety started to sky rocket. I was also working part time whilst studying too, which added on extra pressure. I would come home from either uni or work and lock myself in the bathroom (despite usually being home alone) and I would cry. Sob in fact. I would start to contemplate suicide then - always the thought of hanging myself. The self harming would start then too, but I thought I was always pretty smart about it. I wanted to continue to seem to everyone else that I was okay, so I would hit myself... bruise the top of my legs, pinch myself and dig my nails in. I never wanted anything permanent as I never wanted to anyone to find out my secret. My husband found out though. (we still wasn’t married at this time, e was living together though). He didn’t fully understand, I’m not sure if he still does. He has listened to me crying over the years and tried to help, but at the same time he has also made it worse. Our arguments have been pretty bad over the years and usually would be to do with our equally low self-esteem.

I have never felt good enough for him. When we first got together, I was already pretty insecure as I said before and there was another young girl who my future husband at the time as still interested in/had feelings for. This girl, although I’m not sure if she ever knew was the basis for A LOT of our horrible arguments in our late teens and early 20′s. Because of this we have both become horribly insecure about each of us having friends of the opposite sex, or even friends who could be “influential” to us. Anyway, I have never felt good enough for him... he has left me quite a few times, especially in the recent years (once this year) and yes I do understand it’s been because of his insecurities too but I really am not sure if he knows the impact this has had on me.

2019 has been one hell of a rough year. My grandmother has dementia and lives in a care home, my brother is currently under going treatment for cancer. I feel pretty miserable in my job and I was in a car crash in the summer too. I don’t have any close friends anymore, so I find it hard to talk to anyone. In the last recent weeks I have felt at my lowest and I have attempted/contemplated suicide twice. I have been neglecting my anti-depressants and I have had panic attacks.

My depression not only affects me mentally, but physically too. I over-eat, meaning that slow weight gain has most certainly caught up over the years. I struggle to be motivated/go out to places. I am always so tired, I could actually sleep for days on end if I as allowed. I have multiple knots and tension in my shoulder and I have actually been signed off work for stress this week. But I am using this week to change how I am feeling. To take the time for me and to heal these wounds. Of course it is going to take longer than this week, but I am hoping to kick-start it this week and really take the time to focus on ME.

I am going to be writing more posts of what I have tried and going to be trying for the rest of this week and any tips I have found helpful in the past.

And maybe some more just about me :).

Thanks!!

LunaMoonPrism

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nursinggeek · 5 years ago

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Gaming and Mental Health

Sometimes people use video games as a tool to help with their mental health. Now, sometimes gaming can exacerbate mental health issues (hello depression and self-isolation) but that is not what this is about. Sometimes spending a bit of time playing a particular game can help lower anxiety levels or increase a sense of efficacy, making it easier to then deal with meatspace challenges. This is why I think it’s especially important in multiplayer games to respect other people’s gameplay styles and that they may not have fun doing the same things you have fun doing. I mean, it’s also just common courtesy, but I’m focusing on the mental health aspects.

One thing to bear in mind is that video games (and other types of games, really) exist because engaging with them causes our brains and bodies to respond in certain ways. Sometimes that means lots of fun neurotransmitters being released and causing physiological responses. Sometimes that means lots of not-so-fun neurotransmitters being released and causing physiological responses. And the same activity can either cause the same neurotransmitters to be released but with different experiences in different players or even cause different neurotransmitters to be released. That’s about as science-y as I’m going to get, though, because I think it’s a little easier to look at the subjective experience.

I play on a particularly awesome Minecraft server. Everybody is really friendly and supportive with very rare exceptions, and we have awesome mods to help when exceptions arise. Sometimes, though, people mean to be friendly and encouraging but end up accomplishing the opposite of what they’re trying to do. I’ll give an anxiety example and a depression example. Since Minecraft is the only multiplayer video game I do, the examples are going to be very specific to that game, though I’m hoping the general principles will be clear.

There’s a player who has stated they’re concerned that the 1.14 “village and pillage” update will cause them to go into hyperalert mode when they’re trying to do an otherwise relaxing project. Now, if someone has anxiety, and they like to build as a way to soothe that, then being in hyperalert mode is seriously counter-productive. This has nothing to do, btw, with actually being afraid of dealing with pillagers. It’s the sense that they could show up when you’re not in “dealing with bad guys” mode and are in a space that should be hostile-mob-proof, and would have been prior to the introduction of pillagers, specifically pillager patrols.

Ways you could help a fellow player with this: offer to help them figure out the pillager patrol spawn rules (which are a tad more complicated than regular hostile mobs) and how to spawn-proof their space so they don’t have to feel that they are on alert all the time. Things that may seem like a good idea but are not helpful: telling the player that pillagers aren’t so bad anyway (not the point, it’s about being hyperalert, not how much damage they can cause you), telling the player that you can hear them well before you can see them (doesn’t matter what sense is involved, knowing a hostile mob can show up suddenly can keep one in hyperalert mode), or telling the player not to worry because you’ll come help if they say in chat that they’re being attacked (great that you’ll help, but that doesn’t keep hyperalertness from happening all the rest of the time). Having your friends keep offering all these reasonable-on-the-surface-sounding things is actually frustrating and invalidating. Things that should be obvious are unhelpful: asking the player why they play in survival if they don’t want to deal with hostile mobs or some similarly patronizing “my way or the highway” response.

So that’s the anxiety example. The depression example will be yours truly.

In general, I prefer to focus on the mining and grinding side of Minecraft. I’m not generally an adventurer, and I’m not a terribly skilled builder. But I love farming and fishing and, yes, mining. I have allowed myself, on occasion, to get sucked into the group enthusiasm that tends to exist around things like taking on a Woodland Mansion as a group. I have since learned that that is not fun for me. It’s fun to watch others do it, especially others who are friends. But it is not fun for me. It brings up all sorts of nonsense I thought I’d left behind in grade school about being the weak link on the team and can trigger a startlingly bad depressive episode. Consciously, I don’t actually care that I’m terrible at combat. If I cared, I’d practice (solo!) and get better.* It’s just not my play style, and after that one mistaken “caught up in the group’s enthusiasm” experience, now I know to decline. My typical response to these events is, “Have fun storming the castle!” followed by either proceeding to do something else in another part of the server or just logging off.

Incidentally, this doesn’t stop me from jumping in to help someone else who gets into trouble with bad guys. Your base is being raided because the pillagers think it’s a village and you ask for help? I’m there. The Four Horesemen of the Apocalypse just spawned and you’re trapped and ask for help in chat? I’m there.

I’m probably not the only person whose brain works this way and needs to beg off things like group wither-boss fights or ender-dragon fights or the like. So, if you encounter a player who similarly chooses not to participate in these group events, by all means, ask if there is something you can do to make them feel more comfortable to participate in something you think is going to be fun that you don’t want them to miss out on. But if they say that, no, they really don’t want to, please accept that.

Things that may seem helpful but aren’t: saying you’ll protect them (that actually makes things an order of magnitude worse if the problem is they feel like they’d be the weak link on the team), saying it’s not really as bad as all that (no kidding, it’s just a game, it’s not the actual thing-being-fought that is the problem), or saying that it’s not about how well you fight, it’s about the group experience (the experience of feeling like the weak link of the group is the problem and overshadows any positives of doing the activity with the group). As above, it should be obvious that asking them why they even play the game if they don’t find the same parts of it fun as you do is not even a little helpful, and is, in fact, downright rude.

I feel like I need to take a second to note that there may be servers where particular activities are expected/required. I’m not saying that is a problem! You might have a rule that nobody gets to have things like elytra and shulkers and other goodies from the End if they don’t participate in defeating the ender dragon, for example. That’s totally fine, imo, so long as those expectations are clearly communicated.

The tl/dr take-away, I think, is that it’s important to listen to people when they say this or that doesn’t work for them. It’s more than okay to ask for clarification, or to ask if there’s a way you can help them with the thing, but if they decline, please respect that. Pushing can be the opposite of helpful, despite the fact you may have every intention of being helpful.

*This is something I’m considering doing as a way to try and defuse this trigger, actually. I’m lucky enough that the mods will re-set the woodland mansion and we can re-spawn the ender dragon on this server, but I’d have to do it at a time I knew I’d be the only one on. Having others help would be counter-productive Otherwise, it’d have to be in a single-player world. I actually think that getting my skills up to the point where I could be an asset rather than a liability in a group activity like that would be a good thing in terms of dealing with that old issue that apparently still kicks around in my brain. The problem is, since fighting bad guys is a thing I’ll do if I have to but not particularly fun, I’m not all that motivated to spend my recreational time doing it. But if you have a similar issue and think that’d help, well, I figured I’d toss that out there.

#gaming #mental health #minecraft #idk why i felt the need to write this out and post it #but if you find it helpful then great!

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