#i’ve been having a really hard time recently and i feel super like alone and stuff

[butteredfrogs]

vent in tags don’t mind me

[maimingaffairs]

Hi! Could I request a female reader x aleksander morozova where reader went for a walk alone and felt unsafe due to two sketchy men in a secluded forest area. Thankfully a group of people start walking towards them and they leave her alone. She returns home shaking and scared and aleksander comforts her with hugs, tea and some chocolate. He promises nothing will hurt her and is just super soft and comforting.

Unfortunately inspired by true events. Super thankful that a group of other walkers appeared, but really wish aleksander had been there to give me a hug afterwards

FIRST OF ALL ANON:(( please be safe! don’t go walking alone :( also second of all… i’m so sorry that this is late. i’ve been slacking on posting and writing recently with everything that’s going on in my life. i have SO MANY requests to get to, so please be patient while i slowly work through them all. third of all, thank u so much for your request my sweet little anon baby. i love u dearly. <3

warnings: none really. mostly soft

word count: 1.2k

Trouble to be Had (aleksander morozova x fem!reader)

-

You couldn’t shake the strange feeling that settled in the pit of your stomach.

You went for walks in the forest behind the Little Palace all the time and you’d never felt this kind of dread. But this time you did.

Usually, you weren’t alone, granted. Normally, you’d go on little walks with Aleksander. The two of you had been friends for a very long time, until eventually it evolved into something more, something romantic. Now the two of you were engaged to be wed, so it was understandably hard to separate the two of you. But today he was busy with meetings, as he so often was, and you decided to take your evening walk alone.

You ran your hand through your hair and looked back over your shoulder slightly to see two men following you. The feeling of dread bubbled up even more in your stomach. They both looked haggard and dirty, as if they’d been creatures of the forest themselves. You lowered your head down just a bit and you let out a little hum to try and relax your nerves, to no avail.

The footsteps behind you grew closer and closer, and now you could tell the men were much closer to you than before. You didn’t want to panic, but you were afraid it was heading in the direction as you continued to walk ahead, trying to work out how to get away from the two of them. It wasn’t like you could run into the forest, they’d surely catch you; if of course, their intentions were malicious. You were positive they at least weren’t friendly. That feeling of dread in your stomach made you nauseous and you hurried along, and with every quickening step of yours, you could hear theirs speeding up to match yours. Your breath became ragged and uneven with fear and you were about to break into a run when you heard voices ahead of you on the path.

You lifted your head to see a few other Grisha, including your friend Zoya, and you gasped softly, jogging up to meet them halfway as they walked towards you on the path.

“Y/n!” Zoya called.

You didn’t stop walking until you reached her and grabbed onto her arm tightly, trying your best to calm yourself down.

“Where is The Darkling?” She asked as you gripped her arm and watched as the two men stuck their heads down and hurried away from your group. You felt immense relief and you let out a long sigh before you looked up at Zoya, walking along with her as you clung to her arm.

“Meetings and such.” You murmured distractedly and she nodded once.

The walk back to the Little Palace was quiet save for the quiet chatting of the girls you were amongst, and the second you could see the palace in view, you bid Zoya goodbye and dashed off towards the building. Tears sprung to your eyes as you ran inside and you let out a few tiny huffs of breath as you made your way to Aleksander’s chambers. You kept your head down and determinedly pushed the doors to his war room open. You tried to ignore the stares of David and a few other Grisha that surrounded the table and you met Aleksander’s eyes as soon as you saw him.

Your cheeks burned with something between shame and timidness as you stood in the doorway and stared at him. Your chin wobbled just slightly and you bit down on your bottom lip. Not even a second had passed before a sharp clap sounded through the room.

“That is all for now. Please, give me and my fiancée some privacy.” Aleksander commanded and you stepped inside of the room to clear a path for the exiting Grisha.

As soon as you were alone, you closed the doors behind you and walked straight into Aleksander’s outstretched arms. You let out a little sob against his chest and god your face against the fabric of his kefta.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your meeting.” You cried and gathered the lapels of his kefta in your fists.

“You do not need to apologize to me, but you do need to tell me what happened. Right now.” He said softly.

You felt his fingers run through your hair and you squeezed your eyes shut, “It’s so stupid, but I was out. Taking my walk. And there were these men following me and it scared me and I was so uncomfortable, and then I saw Zoya and walked back to the palace with her and, and I just wanted you and I was so scared.” You rambled and threw your arms around his neck.

He tightened his grip around your body and he shook his head, saying nothing. You took in the comfort of his scent and his arms and you relaxed a little bit, your tears ebbing away.

Once you were only sniffling rather than crying, Aleksander lifted you into his arms gently and carried you into his bedroom. He sat you on the edge of his bed and he knelt in front of you and took your hands in his own. He held them against his lips for a long while before he sighed.

“No more walking alone. Okay? Not in the forest. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you somehow and it seems as if there is trouble to be had in that forest alone. So please, my love, no more.” He murmured against your hands, and you nodded once, squeezing his hands tightly. He slowly began to pull his hands away from yours and you tightened your grip on them, not wanting him to go away.

“Darling, I’m going to get you some tea and then I’ll be right back.” He said soothingly, in a voice so delicate and soft that it was only reserved for your ears to hear.

You gave him another nod again and slowly eased up your grip on his hands until he was able to pull them away from yours. He gave you a soft smile and then he pressed one kiss to your knee before he rose to his feet and left the room. You slid off of the bed and shrugged your kefta off, leaving you only in your simple black dress and you sat back down on the edge of his bed, awaiting his return.

When he came back moments later, he had a little cup of tea for you and he sat down on a chair in the middle of the room and beckoned for you to come join him. You scrambled off of the bed and walked towards your fiancé and you sat down in his lap eagerly. He pulled your legs up so that they laid across his and he handed you your cup of tea, which you took gratefully.

He pressed a soft kiss to the side of your head and he let out a little sigh, “What am I going to do with you, little love?” He said playfully and pressed a few more kisses to the side of your head.

“Well, for starters, you could keep holding me. All night.” You said as you finished your small cup of tea. He gently took the cup from you and set it aside before gathering you in his arms, and you swore you’d never felt more secure in your entire life than you did in that very moment.

“Alright,” he said sweetly, placing a kiss against your ear, “All night then.”

[hxney-lemcn]

The Fall — Connor x gn! demi! reader

summery: Connor asks a personal question which leads to reader explaining their sexual orientation. Which ends up in a confession and fluffiness.

tw: anxiety attack, mentions of being invalidated

a/n: Super self indulgent. I may be aroace but I will live in this fantasy as long as I want.

wc: 1.5k

Master List

I felt frustrated. Oh so frustrated. I typically would spend my spare time reading. No, not reading novels or books like I probably should. It was kind of embarrassing to admit, but yes. I read fanfic. It’s not a crime, okay. But recently, I couldn’t pay attention to it, my mind drifting off to someone else instead. Every time too. I would be reading about my favorite characters and then think about him instead. Which led me to stare at my phone when I had free time and come up with scenarios that would potentially befall us. Not only did it waste my phone battery, but it also makes me look dumb just staring at nothing. 

I found myself in a similar situation at the moment. The t.v. droned on, some video or show, I wasn’t completely sure. I let out a small huff, tossing my phone gently onto my stomach. I turned my gaze to Connor, who happened to already be staring at me. 

Connor invited me out to Hank's house today. Just to hang out. I accepted, deeming that I need to socialize with people more…and maybe because that meant I could hang out with Connor. Hank was off who knows where, telling Sumo to watch over us. Which led us to sit on the couch and watch something. I was curled into one side of the couch, a light blanket keeping me warm.

“May I ask a personal question?” Connor asked, head tilting to the side in that cute puppy-like manner. 

“Shoot,” I replied, putting my full attention on him. 

“Have you ever been in a romantic relationship?” He asked, curious brown eyes boring into me. 

A range of emotions washed over me. Nervousness as to the implications this could mean, but also nervousness to what I was going to have to explain. I’m demiromantic, which meant that I had to get to know a person real well before even thinking about entering a romantic relationship with them. But I never really liked anyone like that for years…until now. 

Which meant that I had little to no experience when it came to dating. And I honestly believed that it would stay that way. Which I didn’t mind, don’t get me wrong. I was content on my own with my pets…but I always wanted something more with someone. To be special to someone. Which led me to reading fanfic. 

“No,” I replied hesitantly. 

Connor’s brows furrowed, a slight frown settled on his lips, “I don’t understand.”

I frowned in confusion as well, “What don’t you get?” His stare moved back to me and it was intense, some feeling I couldn’t put my finger on was swimming through his eyes.

“How someone as amazing as you haven’t found anyone yet,” Connor stated. 

I felt my heart rate accelerate and I tried to hide how flustered that statement made me, but I also knew he could scan me and find out without me even realizing. How could he say something like that so unabashed? He thinks I’m amazing? Does that mean he admires me? God, the thought alone made me feel all warm and fuzzy. 

“It’s…hard to explain,” I shrugged, looking towards the t.v. only to notice it was shut off. Connor stayed silent, eyes pleading for me to continue. I let out a small sigh, ready to fall into the usual spiel, “I’m demiromantic. I need to get to know someone real well before even thinking about anything more than friends, and the people I start to like never really saw me as anything more than a friend so I’ve never dated or anything.”

“How long does it take for you to gain these romantic interests? If I may ask,” Connor asked, his body moving closer in curiosity. 

Once again I just shrugged, trying to not think about how surprisingly quick I found myself falling for the handsome android sitting next to me. It still took longer than what the media portrays, at least a month, but that was quick for me. 

“It depends,” I finally answered. “I haven’t been interested in many people, I could probably count the amount on one hand.” I let out a small chuckle at the thought. “Why do you ask?”

My eyes were drawn to Connor’s led as it spun yellow. It even blinked red for a second and I grew concerned. Did…was he going to invalidate me somehow? Tell me I’m just trying to label myself and that what I felt was normal? It’s happened more than I’d like to think, but I trusted Connor, so if he said anything like that I wasn’t sure what I’d do. 

“I don’t wish to make you uncomfortable,” Connor finally managed to speak out. I moved to sit more upright, scooting closer to him. I gently placed a hand on his shoulder, and he seemed to relax a bit under me, the artificial muscles moving under my hand. 

“I trust you, Connor,” I spoke up. “I know if something comes out wrong you don’t mean it in a bad way.” 

“That’s not,” Connor huffed, shaking his head. My eyes fell onto that small piece of hair on his forehead, but I ignored the urge to push it back into place. His led once again blipped red before settling on yellow. “You produce these feelings inside of me, things I haven’t felt around anyone else. Hank has made some comments…and I believe this feeling is love, or strong attraction at the very least, but with this newfound information…”

Connor’s concerned, fearful look along with all the words he just spoke put my brain in overdrive. What? He…no. No…I…do I like him like that? I mean, yes I’m attracted to him, and yes, the idea of being in a relationship with him makes my heart pound faster. 

I pulled my hand away from him, scooting away slightly. I clenched my fists against my knees, staring down at the carpet floor like it would give me all the answers. I barely recognized his honeyed voice call my name in concern. I didn’t notice how his led settled on a deep red. I was too wrapped up in my own feelings, suddenly overwhelmed by everything. 

Scared, I was scared. Isn’t this what I wanted? Someone to like me? But was I in love with the idea of that? Or did I actually like Connor? I don’t want to start a relationship with the wrong intentions. Connor doesn’t deserve to be hurt. But I really really like him. Yeah, I like him. As a person. I like spending time with him. I like talking with him, I like helping him with his still newfound deviancy. 

Oh god, what if he only liked me because I was the first person to be kind to him? No, no it’s not my place to question his feelings. It’s all new to him as well. This is new to both of us…the thought alone made me relax a bit. I took a deep breath, and then another. Would it hurt to just try out a relationship? It’s Connor after all, and if it doesn’t work I don’t think it’d end too terribly…

With one last deep breath, I opened my eyes, feeling a lot calmer than I did a few seconds ago. I felt guilty as Connor fidgeted with his quarter, led bright red, eyes searching for something in mine. 

“Sorry,” I apologized nervously. “I…just got a bit overwhelmed.” Connor looked scared, he opened his mouth, but closed it. He seemed afraid he’d say something wrong. 

“Like I said, I’ve never been in a romantic relationship,” I explained. “And…I guess I kinda thought I’d never get a chance. So you saying that you…” The word felt heavy as it sat on my tongue. “...are strongly attracted to me…I guess it kinda scared me. I’ve never dealt with this before, and didn’t think I’d have to. Not that it’s bad or anything! Because I like you too, I’m just…scared.”

Connors led spun yellow, processing what I had just said. Finally it settled on a serene blue, his face morphed from fear, to relief, to settling on pure joy.

“I also don’t have experience in this field,” Connor replied. “I was built with a social programme, but it didn’t include anything to do with romantic human relations. I would like to learn with you.” 

Heat simmered through me, heart beating faster and I felt inexplicably happy. So happy, I had no idea what to do with this newfound energy bursting through me. I stared at Connor, his cute freckles, deep brown eyes, perfect eyebrows, full lips, to that damned piece of hair still out of place. It was hard to believe someone who looked so perfect would want to be with me. 

Trying to calm myself from doing something I’d regret, I lifted my hand up and brushed that piece of hair up and into place. Connor closed his eyes, tilting his head closer to my hand. I couldn’t help but marvel at how soft his hair felt. 

Continuing to brush his hair gently, I finally replied, “I wouldn’t want to learn with anyone else.”

Connor opened his eyes, his smile seeming to split at the seams. My heartrate spiked once more as I finally could put a word to the look in his eyes when he looked at me. Love.

[mysaintkitten]

Okay here's something: so reader is in love with Emma just cause of their talks but they think she's married to John like everyone else in town does so they hate him and thinks "oh I could treat her so much better" so they confess to Emma and asks her to run away with them.

Super dramatic I know, but I love my girl, but feel free to totally ignore this lol. Love your work!

although kitten is my main wife .. cillian looked absolutely gorgeous as emma. the brown eyes and brown hair ?? hello ?? also thank you so much !!

Lonesome | Emma Skillpa x fem!reader

prompt: emma isn’t being treated right by john, and you’re sick of it (NO MINORS!!!)

WARNINGS: none really, just fluff i think lol

word count: 1.2k

“milk or sugar?” emma asks from the kitchen,

“neither, please.” you respond, fidgeting with your hands in front of you.

you weren’t able to be alone with emma very often, you wanted to make sure you didn’t fuck anything up.

emma returns with two cups in hand and a spoon, smiling at you softly.

“for you,” she whispers, placing the cup in front of you, “for me.”

she flattens out her dress before sitting across from you at the table, “so, how’ve you been? it’s been a while since we’ve chatted.”

your eyes shift from your cup to her face, “oh, i’ve been alright. things have been stressful, but nothing i can’t manage. how about you?”

she picks up her spoon and begins to stir her tea, “things have been a bit mundane recently, but johns always keeping me busy with the housework.” she laughs

you smile at her laugh, but hearing her speak about john upset you. you know it shouldn’t, but you just had a deep inkling that he didn’t treat her right. and now look. she’s saying he doesn’t even help out with housework.

you lift your cup to your lips and take a small sip, “how’s john been?”

she doesn’t respond right away and breaks eye contact briefly before pulling herself together to respond

“he’s been good. busy with work,” she says, “i feel like i barely see him.”

so not only does he not help out, he doesn’t even give her the time of day? sickening. how could he have such a kind, compassionate, gorgeous wife, and not appreciate her? you think about emma, all alone, yearning for some sort of intimacy, affection, hell, even just attention. you’d give it to her. you’d give it all to her. but she’s a married woman, and you doubt she even swings that way.

you snap yourself out of your thoughts to respond, “must be hard,” you start, “i’m sorry john doesn’t .. you know .. give you the attention you need ..”

you watch emma’s face, she looks upset.

you attempt to backtrack, “i’m sorry if i went too far it’s just .. i hate to see someone like you being under appreciated.”

just when you think you’ve dug yourself into a deeper hole, she brings her eyes up to you again,

“someone like me?”

you swallow, how do you word this without making her uncomfortable?

“you’re just .. so sweet, and giving. and whenever i hear you talk about john it’s like he’s always .. not doing enough for you.”

she takes another sip from her tea and stands up, “he does enough. he’s just busy. he works. it’s how he shows he cares.”

emma heads to the kitchen and you trail behind her, “he shows he cares about you by neglecting you?”

you’re distain for john is becoming more and more evident by your tone and word choice. but to be fair, you’re not the only one that feels this way. everyone thinks john is kind of strange, but him being a shitty husband on top of that isn’t him making him look very good as a person.

she turns her body to you, her face displaying some sort of negative emotion that you can’t quite pinpoint. anger? sadness? both?

“it’s not neglect. i’m not a child.”

“no, you aren’t a child, but you’re a woman with needs. and he’s not fulfilling those needs, is he?” you question, she remains silent as her bottom lip quivers slightly, “when was the last time he held you? touched you?” you ask softly

as those words leave your mouth, she begins to cry. instantly you feel a pang of guilt.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry ..” you whisper, rubbing her back soothingly, “its just .. it upsets me, emma.”

she sniffles and wipes her eyes, “no, no, it’s not what you said .. well, it is ..” she mumbles, “i’m so lonely.”

hearing her mutter those words made you feel awful. this poor woman, you don’t even want to think about how long she’s been feeling this way for.

she chuckles weakly, “i can’t even remember the last time he kissed me.”

you feel an impulse pop into your head, before you can contemplate if it’s appropriate or not it’s already leaving your mouth,

“can i kiss you?”

her tears slowly stop and her cheeks blush slightly, “what?” she whispers, clearly taken aback

your hearts racing exponentially faster, “can i .. uh .. can i kiss you?”

she takes a moment to respond, you’re convinced you’ve gone too far and she’s thinking up a kind way to ask you to leave,

“yes.”

you’re in disbelief, “really?”

“yes, you can kiss me.” she repeats

after receiving her approval, you gather up the courage to plant a small peck onto her lips. you give her another and she kisses you back, bringing her body a bit closer to yours.

the pecks shift into deep kisses, her hunger for intimacy was apparent in her body language.

she runs her hands along your hips, wrapping them around you just to hold you close.

you detach from her lips and bring them to her neck, kissing her skin softly, she moans quietly.

as you kiss her neck, you bring your hand between her legs, wanting to take this a bit further,

“no, stop” she whines, you pull your hand away and remove your head from her neck, immediately you regret your decision,

“i’m sorry, emma, i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” you apologize

“it’s okay .. it’s okay .. maybe we could just-“ she starts, “never mind, it sounds dumb.”

you cup her face gently, “no, talk to me, please.”

“could we just .. talk? and kiss?” she asks, seemingly embarrassed by the request, you just smile,

“that sounds nice,” you coo, “but, what about john? what if he sees?”

she shrugs, “he’s been busy, he won’t see. i promise.”

she leads you up to her bedroom and the two of you lay in her bed, kissing, giggling, talking. as the sun begins to set, emma pulls out some wine.

she pours you and her a drink, and the two of you get undeniably tipsy.

as you kiss her with your hand on her thigh, the alcohol seems to cloud your better judgement. you whisper to her, “run away with me.”

she hums, “how do i explain that john?”

“he doesn’t need an explanation.”

she smiles and sighs before leaning in to kiss you again, “i’ll have to think about it.”

as you continue to drink throughout the night, she gets bit handsy, but no direct contact was made, just needy little touches. you allow her to touch within her limits, she’s clearly desperate for more, but she’s not ready to give it all up tonight. and that’s okay.

you fell asleep in her bed, wrapped up in her arms, and wake up with the bed empty. you sit up, a bit upset, but you notice a note sitting on the nightstand, it reads;

thank you for giving me a wonderful night, i’m sorry i couldn’t be here when you woke up. next time, i’ll make you breakfast in bed.

- emma

you grin at the note, and you grin even harder at her alluding to a “next time.”

you’re looking forward to doing this again.

——

i think this was mostly my subconscious talking .. emma skillpa if you’re reading this i want to kiss you

[creepedverse]

Give us Arthur info dump

Personal Journal (tw for animal death!)

Entry 003, XX/XX/2008

Haaaaaah. Farnbury… What a place! I expected to be shell shocked when I got here, honestly! But, underneath the starry sky… I feel at home. I guess I’m home when I’m in the trees, no matter which direction I find myself! ^^ But, there are some differences compared to New York. For starters, it’s not as cold! I love the cold weather, so I never complained at home, but now in February, I feel overdressed! I also… I made friends!! Two of them!! Can you believe it!? Of course I can believe it, me! They’re both so… just wow!

I was just setting up my camp for the night when I met him! My first ever friend!! (Better late than never!) He seemed startled to see me out there, but I think he relaxed once he realized I wasn’t like a bear or something! (Even though being a bear would be super cool!) He was very quiet, and I started to fill the space by talking! I… I usually find it hard to start conversations, but talking to him came so easy! He just listened, and that was nice. I guess that’s what friends do! Anyways, that’s how we first met! Ever since then, I’ve been running into him here and there! He actually works at the diner I go to for breakfast! He’s probably used to my order by now, since I always get the same thing! (Pancakes, short stack, and coffee) His name is Tommie! And I think that name suits him marvelously! He is very much a Tommie! ^^

I made my second friend just recently! Here I am, braving the wilderness in hopes of solving the mystery surrounding the farnbury entity, but… well… this is taking longer than I thought it would! When I found that cursed picture online, it only took me two weeks to contain the entity! Bam! Done! No more silly dog! But… this entity seems… different. It’s… stronger than most. I have some theories about it, but I’ll detail them in my proper investigation journal. Anyways! Where was I? Right! It’s taking a long time to get to the bottom of this thing! So, I soon found myself almost out of money. And so, that means I needed a job! The only problem is that… well… no one wants to hire a guy living out of a tent! Except for one person! Bonnibel… Bonnie! My beautiful Bonnie! She saved me from total, utter despair!! Heh… okay that’s dramatic! But! She hired me to work at her antique shop! And I’m so proud to say we get along swimmingly! She’s so gentle and kind and doesn’t yell at me if I miscalculate change! Actually, now that I think about it… this is my first proper job! Huh! How epic!!!

Bonnie has a truly beautiful ability. She can see ghosts! What are the odds of her befriending me!? She’s surrounded by the paranormal, and I hope she’ll let me help if anything troublesome bothers her. I have a whole section in my notes dedicated to banishing spirits! I hope she can rely on me… She actually… She told me a ghost follows me. A small hare… hopping wherever I go. I… um…

Well I guess if I’m telling this journal everything, I’ll tell it everything. When I first encountered the farnbury entity, I lost control of myself for a second. The entity seemed to try and get in my head. It completely mixed my thoughts around, I couldn’t make out up or down, left or right. I started freaking out, in the woods, all alone. My tics started going haywire! I couldn’t control my body anymore and I just… spazzed. (I guess my high school peers were spot on with that nickname.) I ended up falling down a steeper-than-average hill. I must’ve hit my head because when I woke up, it was daylight. I was fine again. However… on my way down the hill, I… crushed… a rabbit. I felt so awful! The poor little thing! I started to panic! Luckily, my brother had taught me well, and I managed to calm my breathing (and my tears!) and took care of the rabbit by giving it a small burial. I didn’t really have any tools on hand, so I used what I could to make a little grave. I must’ve looked like I was going to faint when Bonnie told me she saw a hare with me! But, how I’ll choose to interpret it is that the rabbit is looking after me. After all, I think he knows it was an accident (I hope he knows!) Maybe he’s hopping around after me to keep me out of trouble! I’ll choose to look on the bright side!

In all my years, I’ve endured countless jabs and bullying and that one fight before I left high school. I can’t help but admit that I was losing hope I’d ever make actual friends… But… Here in Farnbury, things are different. I made friends. I have friends. And I will do anything to protect them, and any other future friends I might make. I will figure this entity out, nullify it, and invite Tommie and Bonnie to travel the whole country with me when I’m done!!!

[luveline]

small vent (please don’t read if it will stress you out or if you’re young — cw of past self harm and unhappiness but I am in no active danger and there’s nothing to worry about, but also just mentioning that in case someone were to open this and then get surprised by the content)

I feel so lonely lately and I don’t know what to do because i feel like I am making an effort to connect with people, maybe I’m not, but I feel as though I am and it’s just really frustrating to have that disconnect of what I feel like I’m doing and the actual result of it, I feel like no one really wants to talk to me, does that make sense? Like I can’t actually have a conversation with anyone, and I’m not blaming anyone for this, because I’m not a good conversationalist, this isn’t me trying to make bad people out of anybody at all but just I’m so frustrated and so lonely and it’s not getting any better. and of course as tends to happen I feel like, really down( and like time is slipping through my fingers, and I feel like I can’t do anything I want to do because I end up worrying or upset about something instead, I can’t stop thinking about stuff I’ve said or things I need to do or things other people have said and what I thought they’re thinking of me. I used to basically feel like this all the time a few years ago but it was going away, until recently when I feel very alone and like it’s worse than it was. I also feel super pathetic once again for putting this here instead of a diary but it’s hard sometimes to not want to know what you guys think, like —is this normal? I worry I’m too concerned with myself

I’ve also been thinking a lot for the last few weeks about hurting myself, because I used to in the past. I won’t do it of course and like if I were to do it it’s not as though I would want to mention that here because I know it’s catching and it hurts people because hurting yourself shouldn’t be presented as an option and it isn’t an option, so I won’t do it, but I do want to hurt myself because I just don’t feel well!! I actually did contact my doctor a few days ago to talk about how I am and my health but they haven’t gotten back to me yet. I know that it’s not how you should cope with bad feelings, but it’s also the only thing that’s ever worked for me

I think all in all I feel really alone, and I feel like I’m always embarrassing myself, like, I feel like the people around me are embarrassed of me. I don’t know why I feel so bad and if it’s normal or not. Like, should I more urgently go and see my doctor, or does everyone struggle feeling such low self esteem? I know life is hard for everybody, and for many much harder than I’ll ever experience, and so I’m caught feeling very ashamed of myself and alone, and like I’m doing things wrong but unaware of it. It’s a relief at least to not be suicidal because in the past I would get so anxious about things I would get tunnel vision and I’d need it to stop, whereas now I just feel quite depressed (sorry if that’s the wrong word) about it. I wish I could identify what it is that’s throwing me off kilter so badly. I hope it’s okay to talk about this here because I don’t think anyone will understand in my life how I’m feeling, I try to talk about it with my mam sometimes but she’s not the most empathetic person, or like she’s too empathetic maybe, and if I tell her I’m feeling depressed she’ll say me too and then guide the conversation about her life without really giving me a chance to speak to her about what’s really on my mind, or she might tell me (again) to go on ozempic (which I do not medically need). And I love my sisters but I can’t tell them either, so it’s just like desperately wanting to confide in someone, but everyone else is too busy

I think my life is just a black hole forever, you know, I don’t mean to be upset about it because things are better than they were, but it’s hard knowing that I’m not experiencing what other people are, and that I’m not connecting with people, and that I’m hard to like

[mingos]

*crawls out of the ground like a mole, coughing up copious amounts of dirt*

so, hello.

    i try to keep things as vague & light as possible when referencing my homelife because, honestly, the last time i brought up anything tangentially related i was essentially told “you being upset is making other people upset and ruining the fun” so being anything other than ✨chaotic positivity gremlin wilder ✨ here makes me paranoid, hence why i’ll just disappear for weeks sometimes. 

but. 

i’ve clearly been gone for a bit, will probably be gone for a bit longer, and since i’ve been getting messages from folks wanting to check in on me i wanna give a more detailed update than usual. i feel guilty for not responding directly, but for reasons i can’t get detailed on other than “the idea of having a conversation with 99.9% of people right now is terrifying” (is this what being nonverbal is, chat?) with even the .1% being a super recent development, a queue post into the void is my solution.

i won’t get that detailed, but if light references to domestic abuse, addiction, or just family issues in general are hard subjects for you - nothing past this paragraph is too pertinent anyway, so don’t worry about having to stop. all you gotta know is that some Bad Stuff with family happened, but i’m safe & i’ll be back in maybe another week or something. 

anyways. i was living out of hotels for about 3 weeks. 

more like 16-17 days if you want to get technical because 4 of those days i had an actual scheduled hotel for my twin’s wedding at the end of august - but i’ve basically been bouncing around since august 21st. the night of the 20th, i had a horrific fight with my family member and, for the first time ever, i left. don’t know if would call it brave on my part - since we were leaving for a trip anyway, this is just the first time my suitcase was already packed.

right now, i’ve been at another relative’s house since the 11th. i tried to go back on the 1st because, even after years of this, i’m apparently way too easy to convince everything is going to be fine…  but by the 2nd i was out of there again. 

currently mulling over my next move here because, as much as the common sense answer is to stay away, anybody who’s unfortunate enough to deal with this knows how complicated it is. i’m scared for this person’s safety as much as i am for my own. no one else really checks on them, and i’ve already had to deal with several medical emergencies they’ve had like bad falls & breathing problems. i don’t like leaving them alone for long because the guilt at the thought of something bad happening to them and no one knowing for possibly days or weeks eats me up.

i logically know i’ll have to get past that eventually because i can’t let my life be dictated by this incredibly toxic cycle forever or i’ll never be happy, but now isn’t the time. they also have a dog who would similarly be put at risk if something happened to them, so it’s a lot for me to worry about.

but, having said all that, we’re currently in the apology stage or i guess the negotiation stage because, after the shit that happened this time, i’m making it perfectly clear i’m not stepping foot in that house until they do something. detox, treatment, rehab, disulfiram, soberlink, therapy – something. we’re kind of running out of things for them to try at this point, but at least they used to try. they haven’t really been doing that this past year and I’m the one suffering the most because of it.

so yeah, that’s where things are at the moment. i’m mentally not doing so hot - but I’ve got my dog, and being able to sleep in a bed i’m familiar with for a change and not a hotel (I spent so much money on hotels, guys i’m cooked) is nice relief while I wait out whatever the hell is happening. talking to them over the phone again pretty much drains any of the energy I’ve got back, but it sounds like they’re starting to "get it' so hopefully they’ll start to take this seriously again because I can really only take one more year of this (if even) until I just need to accept these things aren’t my responsibility and move on.

honestly, having a close-knit group of friends/support system for the first time in years has really reminded me of that and given me the confidence to take a lot of steps to live for myself for a change, and to think about prioritizing my own happiness for once, which wasn’t the place i was in at this time last year, or the year before that, or the year before that - so I just want to say thank you again to anyone whose ever helped talk me through something or really just been nice to me at all. this is why i always remember to be kind because it can genuinely do a lot for someone going through something, because i know it has for me.

anyway uhhhhh i hope you are all doing well, and with any luck i’ll be chilling on here by the start of october. can’t miss spooky month and this insufferable pink bird’s birthday, after all.

much love.

[sesamestreep]

Crozier/Fitzjames, fake amnesia

from this list of reverse tropes for fic writers. i told @firstelevens I wasn’t sure I had it in me to write fic for these two and then I went and washed my hair and while I did that, this idea popped into my head fully formed and I was bound by honor to write it down. Also it’s the first thing my brain has wanted to write in like two months, so I took that as a good sign?? Anyway, here’s…something. Kind of a Parks and Rec AU?? but also not in any serious way? It’s like…what if these dudes from The Terror worked in local government or whatever… don’t worry about logistics, I mostly wanted to write Blanky and Crozier being best friends and also talk about sobriety feelings a bunch. AND THEN I DID. only fits the prompt if you squint super hard but, regardless, please enjoy… on ao3 because why not

“So, you feel ready to go back to work tomorrow?”

Francis removes his gaze with considerable effort from the perfect red orb that is the sun sinking steadily under the horizon line across the lake and shifts it reluctantly back to Tom, who’s sitting back in his chair with his booted foot propped up on a milk crate that he got from God knows where. The sight of the boot that encases the lower half of his left leg does push a wave of guilty bile up the back of his throat but he’s already been told that if he apologizes for causing Tom to have need of it one more time, he’ll be drowned in the aforementioned lake, so he resists. Tom knows Francis is sorry about what happened and he’s chosen to forgive him, even if Francis still thinks it’s a stupid choice, second only to him befriending Francis in the first place all those years ago. Francis doesn’t know where he himself would have ended up if that hadn’t happened, though, so it all comes out in the wash he supposes.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Francis says, tracing a hairline fracture in his coffee mug with his thumbnail just for something to do. “If I take any more time off, I’ll just never go back, so it’s now or never, really.”

“Attaboy,” Tom says before taking a long, thoughtful drink from his own mug. Out of solidarity, or maybe sensitivity, he hadn’t had anything to drink tonight either, despite Francis’s assurances that it wouldn’t bother him and might even be a good idea, just for him to get used to it. It’s not like he could reasonably expect to go the rest of his life without ever seeing alcohol again. He’d seen four different ads for light beer alone this afternoon while watching reruns of ‘Bones’ on the couch and imagining every possible way his first day back in the office after rehab could go wrong and that hadn’t sent him into a tailspin, so he’d probably survive watching his best friend drink in his presence. Still, Tom had chosen to just drink decaf coffee with him after dinner like the ancient relics they are, because he is, without a doubt, the best person Francis has ever known. “You talk to anybody about it? I mean, besides me…”

“What, you mean like a therapist? Of course. I’ve got, what, six of them now, for Christ’s sake!”

“No, I mean, from the office. Have you talked to anyone about coming back?”

“Well, John, obviously.”

“I suppose you’d have to, yeah,” Tom says, running a ponderous hand over his chin. “Anything interesting from that quarter?”

“Just about what you’d expect,” Francis says, trying to be generous. John had been kind enough to let him keep his job, after all, despite how bad things got in the end, but Francis’s issues with the man remain, even with his newfound sobriety. Francis had sent him a long, downright obsequious email apologizing for the damage he’d done with his drunken theatrics both over the years and in the very recent past and explained in detail all the ways he was going to do better in the future, while expressing gratitude for the unprecedented amount of grace everyone, but particularly John, had shown him during this stressful time. It was, in no uncertain terms, the most embarrassing thing Francis has ever had to do, and he has, in his life, proposed to the same woman three separate times with absolutely no success, so it’s not like he’s lacking in options for that top spot.

John is, thankfully, the sort of man who likes to breeze past unpleasantness wherever he can and is also, more importantly, a deeply entrenched bureaucrat who’d just as soon do no work as do even a little work and therefore could not be bothered to hire a replacement for Francis. In fact, if he had to guess, John was probably clever enough to frame it as some sort of protection against a discrimination lawsuit somewhere down the line, despite the fact that several things Francis did at the staff Christmas party right before hitting rock bottom were definitely fireable offenses. John’s unflappable dedication to the status quo has worked in Francis’s favor for once, and while he certainly doesn’t deserve the break, he’s going to take it where he can get it on the off chance it never happens again.

“And the staff? Your team, I mean.”

“I got coffee with a few of them individually, just to clear the air and apologize, so that if anyone wanted to take a swing at me, they could do it outside of work,” Francis says, scuffing his shoe against the porch.

“Well, that’s considerate of you. Any of them try it?”

“No. The cowards,” Francis scoffs, which makes Tom laugh. “Jopson and Edward both seemed like they might be sick at the prospect of anyone in charge actually deigning to apologize to them, which was…humbling, to say the least. Then I got an extremely nervous monologue from Harry about the history and relative efficacy of Alcoholics Anonymous, which I think was his way of saying we’re square. And Silna told me if I tried to meet up with her outside of work hours again, she’d block my number and quit without notice, so...”

“She’s got the right of it,” Tom says, with a crooked grin.

“Yeah, that was my favorite of the lot,” Francis replies. “We’ll have a team meeting tomorrow and we’ll get someone in from HR so everyone can talk about feelings, God help us, but I think it might be okay. Which I could not have predicted when all this started, but here we are.”

“I could have,” Tom says. “You’ve made plenty of mistakes, I grant you, but you’ve also done right by these people in a lot of ways. They’re not going to forget that in a hurry. They’re a loyal bunch.”

Francis nods, looking out over the water again. The pinks and golds of the sunset a few moments ago have already faded into purples and blues as night creeps in. The nocturnal chorus of frogs croaking and insects trilling is rising in the nearby woods. He’s already said his piece about how absurd it is that they’re sitting comfortably outside on the porch after dinner—with jackets on and a fire going, sure, but still—and it’s only the beginning of March. Tom doesn’t need to hear any more ranting about global warming right now; it’s no fair repayment of his generosity. What Francis really should do is head for home soon and let his friend have some peace and quiet. He could use some of that himself, but he somehow doubts that he’ll get much rest once he’s home for the evening. At least he can panic about tomorrow properly there, though, by himself.

“Speaking of throwing punches,” Tom says, carefully, after they’ve been quiet a moment, “have you spoken to James at all?”

Francis winces with what feels like his entire body. “I haven’t had the chance,” he says, as lightly as he can manage.

It isn’t precisely true. If he found the time to contact everyone else who’d been affected by his spectacular fall from grace during his leave of absence, he could have found the time to reach out to James too, but he hadn’t. The apology he owes James Fitzjames is too big for an email, which he’d, in a truly cowardly fashion, gotten away with for almost everyone else, and the presumption and humiliation of asking for any of his free time as he’d done with some of his subordinates was a bridge too far. Besides, if they’d met up at a coffee shop to talk things out, Francis has no doubt James would have ordered his drink with oat milk or stevia instead of sugar or mentioned a cleanse he was on and Francis would have rolled his eyes and said something awful and then he probably would have had to go to rehab all over again, which would have defeated the point. Francis has been told by outside observers—professionals in the field, for what it’s worth—that he’s making progress, but he’s even more sure that he’s still, at his core, a miserable old bastard. He’s just less miserable than he was before, by a small margin. Unfortunately, he’s not any less old, though. In fact, he’s older, but that’s beside the point.

“You’ll have to face him sooner or later,” Tom says, not quite gently but not as bullying as he could be either.

“I know,” Francis says, covering his face with his hands. “I’ll do it tomorrow. I mean, if anyone’s entitled to an in-person apology, it’s James, surely.”

“After you punched him in front of everyone at the Christmas party and verbally berated him? Yeah, I think something more than a text message might be in order.”

“You accepted an apology text,” Francis says, scowling into his mug. “And I broke your leg. You needed surgery and everything. I don’t even think I broke James’s nose.”

“Only because your aim sucks when you’re wasted,” Tom replies, unbothered. “Gave him quite the shiner, though, if you want to compare wounds.”

Francis sighs. “I already said I’d talk to him. You have my word.”

“What am I? Your bloody father?”

“No, and I like you a great deal better for it.”

“Good, then what do I need your word for?”

“I was just trying to convey my sincerity.”

“I don’t doubt your sincerity, Francis. Never have. It’s everyone else you need to convince.”

“I don’t know what to say to James,” Francis says, into his hands. “I mean, with you at least, we’ve known each other for ages. We can bounce back from quite a lot, it turns out. James, he’s—I’ve never known how to talk to him in the first place. Now I’ve got to do it sober? I don’t know where to start.”

“How about, ‘James, I’m sorry for trying to knock your lights out with an audience present while I was drunk off my ass on the company dime’ to start?”

Francis closes his eyes and leans back in his chair, letting the shame wash over him like a wave and then, more importantly, letting it recede like waves do. He sighs loudly and shakes his head.

“You know, I’ve always regretted I wasn’t the sort of drunk who forgets what he does when he’s wasted. Feels like it might be easier, ultimately. Like, I could say, ‘oh, sorry for whatever I might have done to you, James. The trouble is I don’t remember any of it, but I’m sure it’s nothing I would have done sober, all the same.’”

“Feigning amnesia?” Tom barks, laughing and looking at him sideways. “What’s that? The thirteenth step?”

“Leave me alone,” Francis replies, waving him off but laughing himself despite his best efforts. “I’ve done a lot of owning up to things lately. Can’t I keep one petty grievance for myself?”

“You could probably get away with it, if you’d left it as a petty grievance rather than escalating to violence. And your resistance to dealing with James should tell you making amends there is your highest priority. Discomfort is a good thing here, a signal you’re heading in the right direction. If it were all easy, everyone would do it, you know.”

“That’s lovely, Tom. Will you be cross-stitching any of these aphorisms onto pillows to remind me to stay the course, or shall I just memorize them for when times get tough?”

“Fuck off, you dusty old prick,” Tom laughs. “Hey, what about this? ‘James, I’m ever so sorry for getting plastered and calling you out in front of everyone and then attempting to rearrange your pretty face with my fist! I do think some of the blame lies in you being so pretty and in me having some unresolved issues around my masculinity and my self-esteem, all of which you can blame on my waste of a father figure growing up, but in this case, I suppose I have to shoulder some of the responsibility for my actions myself. Forgive me?’”

“There’s no one else on earth who could get away with saying even half those things to me, you know,” Francis says, even as his blood doesn’t boil or even heat in the slightest hearing them. It rushes to his face instead, no doubt resulting in a fierce blush that the gathering darkness mercifully hides from view.

“I earned it the hard way, my friend,” Tom says, patting his boot.

“That you did,” Francis says, and rises from his seat. “I’d better be going, then. Much to do, after all: apologies to draft, laundry to fold, worst case scenarios to spin out.”

Tom gets up with effort, clunky and inelegant in his boot, but not so proud as to decline Francis’s hand when it’s offered. “I wasn’t trying to scare you off,” he says once he’s vertical.

“You didn’t. It’s like I said, I’ve a lot to do before the big day.”

Tom nods and, after a moment of deliberation, puts a hand on Francis’s shoulder. “You’re a good man, you know.”

“I’m not sure about that,” Francis replies, shifting away from the praise. “More of a bad man trying to be better.”

Tom gives him a long look at that and then shakes his head, smiling. “All that work on yourself and you still don’t get it,” he says, not unkindly. “What else do you think a good man is?”

Francis doesn’t know, but he spends the whole ride home and the rest of the night thinking about it all the same.

*

Francis’s plan of attack, such as it even exists, takes form more easily than he could have predicted. Once he starts thinking about how best to approach James at work and make amends on that front, he finds he knows a lot more about the man than he originally thought. A few years working together, however contentiously, has been enough to pick up on each other’s habits and quirks well enough that Francis can reasonably predict when he’ll be able to get a moment of James’s time without anyone else around. The fact that he can do this and yet never thought to do it before under any other circumstances is the cause of another wave of shame that passes less quickly than Francis would like.

Francis arrives at the City Planner’s office just before 8:30 in the morning with the certainty that he won’t run into John—the man has many flaws but his dedication to never showing up to work any earlier than he absolutely needs to is not one of them, in Francis’s opinion—but that he will, in all likelihood, find James already there and more than likely already working. He also arrives with the materials for a bribe, should that prove necessary.

He’s so worked up, going through everything he’s planning to say one last time in his mind before he actually sees James, that he doesn’t think to knock on the outer door, which is sitting half-open anyway, and just barges in instead. It’s not a great start, he realizes a second after it’s too late to do anything else, and it’s made even worse by the fact that James is there, as expected, and he’s only partially in his shirt, which is not so expected. Francis stops and gapes for a moment with all the grace of someone who’s been tased.

“God, sorry,” he says, and tries to step back, only to collide with the door jamb. “I should’ve—”

“Francis, it’s—good morning, I—this isn’t—I’m the—I’m sorry,” James says, managing to sound crisp and self-possessed even when he’s stammering his way through an apology. “I don’t normally…do this…in the office, I mean.”

“No, of course not,” Francis says, behaving like a teenager in a romantic comedy for some reason and averting his eyes, even though there’s nothing to see. James was in the process of buttoning his shirt when he came in, so it’s really the sight of his clavicle that’s made Francis so uncomfortable. Was he always this much of a ninny? Is that why he started drinking, to cover it up? It’s the only explanation that makes any sense now.

“I went for a run this morning and I neglected to pack a shirt with my work clothes, so I had to use the spare I keep in my desk for emergencies.”

The old Francis (of several weeks and easily a thousand group sessions ago) would have rolled his eyes at any number of things in that small explanation: running to work, keeping a spare shirt in one’s desk, referring to anything related to fashion as an ‘emergency’ and meaning it. Now, he nods thoughtfully and tries to think of it all as part and parcel of what he respects and admires about James: his dedication and planning, his ability to anticipate and address future challenges. The fact that he looks nice in blue. Whatever. It turns out it’s easier to do than he imagined it would be.

“I don’t think you have a habit of undressing in the office for fun, James,” Francis says, instead of any of those nice things. “Don’t worry.”

“Right,” James says, lightly, even as his shoulders remain tense. He does up the last few buttons and his clavicle disappears under the taut poplin fabric of his dress shirt. “Well, what can I do for you, Francis?”

Francis has heard—and, in turn, mocked—James on any number of occasions start conversations with a smooth, ‘to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?’, which is not an expression Francis himself has been treated to in a long time and for good reason. He doesn’t know why he thinks of it now, except that he’d take even a sarcastic reference to the pleasure of his company (of which there is none and never has been for James in particular, he thinks) over the idea that James should do anything for him, at this point.

“You’re training, then?” Francis asks, skirting gracelessly around the question James actually posed. “For another one of the what-do-ya-call-em’s? Not a marathon. The thing you did last year…?”

“The Ironman,” James suggests, looking slightly pained. “It’s a triathlon.”

“Yeah, that sounds right. Another one of those?”

“God, no,” James replies, nose wrinkling slightly before he seems to catch himself doing it and intentionally blanks his expression. “I’m not likely to do another one of those. I already have my bragging rights, after all. Today’s run was just for health.”

“Oh, sure,” Francis says, tapping a fingertip nervously against the cardboard sleeve of his coffee cup. “I’m meant to be doing that now.”

“Running?” James asks, betraying some surprise, which is fair enough.

“Exercising. For my health. To keep me…”

“Fit?”

“Well, distracted,” Francis replies, with a shrug. “There seems to be some thought of it helping to keep me away from drink, though I’m not sure what the logic is there. But I’m meant to be thinking of something I’d enjoy, anyway.”

“Not running, then,” James says, brow crinkling like he’s giving the matter serious thought. James is a fixer by nature—and by profession, of course, being paid mostly to follow John around and make sure the grand promises that flow from his mouth actually happen somehow. He thrives with a problem to solve. If Francis were even marginally less stupid and less proud, he might have thought to come to James sooner. He’s nothing if not several very large problems wrapped in a trench coat. Or a wind breaker, in actuality. The point is, Francis could use all the fixing he can get his hands on.

“Not likely. Never enjoyed it, really. Hard on the ankles, I’ve found.”

“Yes, it can be quite stressful on the joints. You’ve got to take all sorts of precautions,” James says, in the tone he gets when he’s working his way up to a long treatise of some kind, but he stops abruptly and his face betrays that he’s seemingly caught himself. He clears his throat. “So, it’s not for everyone. I understand.”

“Yes, well, my sponsor was saying that I might try tennis or racquetball, but then I’d have to find a regular partner or group, and I’m not sure I have it in me.”

“There’s a club nearby, actually, and they could help you arrange—” James pauses and shakes his head, once again stopping himself from expounding on the different options available the way he normally would. It’s an uncharacteristic amount of restraint coming from James, who loves recommending things to other people almost as much as he loves the sound of his own voice. Francis sees some of his own handiwork in this new display of shame and feels the need to make amends even more keenly than before because of it. “Well, you can Google it, I imagine, and it would be faster than listening to me. It is, uh—it’s in Eagleton, however, so I suppose that won’t do.”

“No,” Francis replies, frowning. “Thanks all the same, though. I imagine I’ll end up doing water aerobics with the rest of the senior citizens at the community center and call it a day.”

“You’re not a—you’re barely fifty, Francis!”

“I’m fifty-two, actually.”

“Oh, well, in that case, I hope you have your affairs in order,” James gripes, as he messes with something entirely unnecessarily on his desk. Francis smiles at the strange comfort of annoying him, which should not be reassuring to him at all but he’s a messed up sort of fellow even on his best days. The smile grows when James clears his throat again and adds, like he can’t quite stop himself, “Swimming’s rather good for the joints, actually.”

“Swimming?” Francis asks.

“Yes, swimming. As in, laps…in a pool. Something else the community center offers, if you were interested. It’s solitary—meditative, even—and good exercise. In—that is, in case you were wondering.”

“If this is you trying to talk me into a triathlon, James—”

James sniffs, more performatively haughty than genuinely haughty, Francis suspects. “I’d never,” he says. “I was merely recommending an activity that you might enjoy more than water aerobics, and that might spare the elderly of our community from dealing your obvious personality disorder early in the morning, when those classes tend to be held.”

Francis, much to James’s surprise from the look on his face, laughs at that. “I’ll take that under advisement,” he says, while James continues to regard him like he’s wild animal exhibiting signs of rabies who’s suddenly appeared in his path, which is maybe a common occurrence in town, depending on who you ask. “Thank you.”

James nods, distracted. “Sure.”

“Well, I—I…listen, I didn’t come here to talk about exercise regimes, which I figure you could have guessed,” Francis says, in a rush, because anything less than a headlong dive into the subject they need to discuss will hurt much worse than just getting it over with, he suspects. “And I don’t want to presume anything about your life, but I also figure there’s a non-zero chance that you’re already familiar with the famous 12 step program, maybe just through cultural osmosis, and I don’t want to over explain any of it to you, but, well, there’s a pretty important part about identifying people you’ve wronged through your addiction and the resulting behavior and making direct amends to said try people and—”

“I’m familiar,” James interrupts, softly. “Not directly, of course, or, um, anything like that—I don’t want to detract—but—”

Francis waves him off. “No need to explain. I just—well, obviously, that list of people, for me, had to include you, because of what transpired between us at the end of last year and how I behaved. The things I said to you, then—how I’ve always spoken to you, really—and of course, I—God, I’m so sorry. It feels absurd to say out loud but I’m sorry for lashing out at you and hitting you, I should never have—”

“It’s fine, Francis,” James says, starchily. He’s got a nervous hand pressed to his ribcage, so intently that it’s almost shocking to look and see no actual knife sticking out from there, somehow. With that, it’s hard to believe the breeziness of his words. “Really, this isn’t necessary.”

“And I’m telling you it is,” Francis explains, as carefully as he can manage. “Maybe it isn’t for you, I don’t know, but it’s necessary for me. Do you—can you understand that?”

“Yes, I’m sorry,” James says, after a deep breath. “Of course. Is there…more?”

“You tell me. Is there any other ways my drinking harmed you that I haven’t thought of?”

“No, I wasn’t—”

Francis holds up a hand to stop him. “That probably read as very sarcastic, given our…history, let’s say, but it was a genuine question. I think I’ve raked myself over the coals for every possible slight I can imagine but if there’s anything I did that I can address for you now, I’d have you tell me.”

“No, it’s fine, really,” James replies, shakily. “I only meant, I don’t really know what goes into all this. Is amends just an apology or is there more to it? I don’t need there to be, I was just curious. That’s all.”

“Well, you’re meant to endeavor to show you’ve changed your ways, I suppose. To indicate that you won’t be perpetuating the same harm in the future. Which, in this case, is tough, because…well, I mean, all I can give you is my word I won’t try to knock you out at work ever again.”

“Outside of work hours, however…” James muses, with a small, mirthless smile.

Francis winces, but otherwise doesn’t react. “I’ll never behave that way towards you again. On my honor, for whatever that’s worth.”

James folds his arms over his chest and looks down at the carpet, appearing like a sullen youth for a brief moment before he raises his gaze and becomes a grown man once more. Francis remembers when he’d shown up with John that first time, how he’d called James an infant to Tom when they finished their initial meeting with him about the town’s budget crisis all those years ago. Tom had laughed at him, wheezing ‘he’s a decade younger than us, if he’s anything, Francis. He’s our bloody peer now, and if you don’t see it, you’re cracked!’ Francis thought—still thinks—Tom is the one who’s cracked, in this case. James looked young, then; he looks young now, everywhere except the eyes, which contain a stormy sea’s worth of disappointment. Francis can be self-centered with the best of them but he knows he’s not the one who put that feeling there in the first place. He’s not that important. For the first time, however, he feels protective of the man in front of him because of it and takes it as his very solemn duty to never be the cause of his disappointment again, so long as it can be helped. All that and it’s not even 9 in the morning yet.

“It’s worth plenty,” James says, eventually, clearly just as uncomfortable with this much emotion so early in the day as Francis is and eager to be done with it. “Thank you, Francis.”

“Yes, well, I won’t take up any more of your time, I’ve been nuisance enough for one morning, but if there’s ever anything you want to discuss or clear up between us, my door’s always open. To you, that is. Well, to anyone, but just in case your particular welcome was unclear, I mean, you should—”

James sweeps a hand out wide in a graceful gesture like he’s literally clearing the air. “Understood,” he says, sincerely, “and appreciated.”

“Great,” Francis says, too cheerily and then winces again. “I mean, uh—right, I’ll just be going then.”

As he pivots back towards the door, the sloshing noise of the ice shifting in one of the cups he’d forgotten he was holding draws his attention. Christ, right. The whole point was—Francis really is starting to lose his mind. He contemplates just leaving anyway, like nothing’s amiss, but he’ll have to explain the two drinks to his team, absolutely none of whom will buy that the iced chai is for him. He’s gone on too many rants about how coffee shouldn’t be iced and tea only on certain occasions. He’s the type to drink hot, black coffee even on the most brutal summer days, though his sponsor did warn him that a lot of alcoholics do turn to sweets as a coping mechanism for replacing alcohol in their daily lives and not to be surprised if he found himself needing additional sweetener in his morning coffee as a result. Francis hadn’t credited it at the time, but he had found himself momentarily tempted at the coffee shop this morning by a sign advertising something called a ‘death by chocolate latte’ as the daily special before he’d gotten a hold of himself, so maybe there’s some truth to it. The point is, dragging this extra drink back to his office will be more humiliating than turning around and giving it to James like he originally planned, no matter how awkward it feels right now.

“Okay,” he says, turning back, “I promise this is the last thing and then I will let you get back to work. There’s, uh—it’s not a bribe, mind you, just an extension of the apology for what happened and for the fact that you’ll have to continue working with me for the foreseeable future and—you don’t have to forgive me, you don’t owe me that, I just thought—”

James looks at him, utterly perplexed, fingertips gently steepled on the top of the desk like he’d already been going back to whatever he was working on when Francis interrupted again. “What is it?” he asks, somehow still not betraying any annoyance at the interruption, hiding it well under an open tone of curiosity.

“The—this,” Francis finally spits out with considerable effort, holding the cup out towards James, rather than try to explain himself further. “It’s for you.”

“Oh,” James replies, with an expression like Francis is trying to hand him a live gerbil and not an upsettingly overpriced beverage like the ones he’s seen James drink on dozens of occasions. “I, uh—that’s really not necessary.”

“You must take it, James. Please. I said you’re not obligated to forgive me, I’m not trying to sway you, really. It just felt wrong to show up empty handed, after everything.”

“I understand, but, really—”

“You’re not on another one of your cleanses, are you? Giving up sugar or…calories before noon or something?” Francis ventures, imbuing his tone with more patience than he normally would, even though he still feels very little towards this thing in particular.

James is already so annoyingly healthy and brisk and handsome, it does take extraordinary amounts of patience to tolerate his talk of intermittent fasting and green juice with the goal of making himself even more annoyingly perfect. Surely, there’s got to be a limit to that sort of thing, but Francis doesn’t know; he’s on the opposite end of the spectrum it seems, having to re-learn the fundamentals of barely looking after himself in middle age without the aid of alcohol. It’s pretty grim, if he’s being honest. It really is no wonder that James has been so consistently earning the gold medal spot in the competitive sport of getting on Francis’s nerves, with that in mind.

His intentional gentleness does seem to pay off in this case, though, since James smiles at him in only mild embarrassment. “Uh, no, I’m not. I just—you’re not obliged to—”

“I know, but—listen, James, I already committed my penance by having to say the phrase ‘dirty chai’ with a straight face to a college student with a lip piercing at eight in the morning, okay? The damage is done. You might as well enjoy the spoils of my humiliation.”

James’s smile widens at that, looking for all the world like he can’t really stop himself. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but that mental image might be worth more to me than the entirety of your apology.”

“No offense taken,” Francis says, finally succeeding in handing off the cup, slick with condensation by now, into James’s care. “I hope it will sustain you for a while yet.”

“Oh, it shall,” James says, placing the cup gingerly onto his desk.

“Right, well,” Francis replies, “that’s all, then. I’ll see you…later, I suppose.”

James nods. “We have a meeting set for Tuesday—tomorrow. It should be on your calendar. Thomas said he—”

“If Jopson says it’s there, it’s there.”

“Great,” James says, easily. “Until then.”

“Yes. ‘Til tomorrow.”

Mission completed, Francis turns once more towards the door and is only interrupted in leaving by the sound of James clearing his throat behind him. He pauses, and looks over his shoulder, raising his eyebrows in question when he meets James’s eye.

“It’s only—forgive me if this is the wrong thing to say, under the circumstances,” James offers, fidgeting with the edge of the notepad lying open on his desk, “but you do—that is, you look well, Francis.”

Francis doesn’t allow himself the liberty of moving even an inch, not to fiddle with his collar or brush back his hair or otherwise indicate he gives so much as one singular damn about his appearance. “Do I?” he asks, tone purposely vague, like James has just told him the weather forecast and it’s only interesting to him in theory, really.

“Yes, very well,” James says, putting his hand flat on the desk very deliberately, like it was giving him away before. At what, who knows, but he’s got it under control now. “This change, it suits you.”

“Well, thank you, I guess.”

James now looks at his computer screen, absently. The next words he says might be something he was reading off of there, if they were anything else. “You look good, is what I meant.”

“How—?” Francis pauses, feeling immense pressure to say this right, somehow. “Sorry, but how would that be the wrong thing to say?”

“I wouldn’t want you to think, well—” James interrupts himself by laughing, just a little and rather joylessly. “It’s not that you didn’t look good before.”

“Oh, right,” Francis says, even as those words continue to make no sense to him in that particular order coming from this particular person. “Wait, you’re saying—I did?”

James meets his eye again, finally, but only to give him the most impatient, long-suffering look in human history. “Is it too much to hope that one of the twelve steps involves learning to take a compliment?” he asks, sounding depleted by the effort. “Because it is one of your most exhausting qualities that you can’t do so without endless interrogation first.”

“And it’s got a lot of competition,” Francis replies, feeling himself smile and choosing to do nothing to stop it, “what with all my other exhausting qualities.”

“You’re really only proving my point here, you know.”

“Thank you, James,” Francis says, dutifully. “It’s very kind of you to say. Better?”

“Much,” James sighs. “You’re showing remarkable improvement already.”

Francis leaves him, then, because to stay any longer would just be exposing himself to further ridicule and he’d absolutely deserve it, what with the stupid smile he now can’t seem to get rid of.

[kel-lance]

Eyeless Gojo AU Part 1:

Prequel: (read here)

———Warnings: mention of death, blood, killing, morally grey, slight mind control, Gojo just reacting to his cptsd in this universe, slight grooming (adults ideals on Gojo and their children), mindbreak, yandere(?)———————-

((Ending of year 3: (the woman Geto brought in was mamagumi. Toji was a secret weapon to the Zenin clan and was highly respected. The kids are being raised together. Maki and Mai are taught new techniques while sparring against Megumi (they all have their same techniques) so they were actually going to become to super strongest of the clan. Basically Megumi will be next in line of the clan and maki and Mai will be trained as his protectors.

The three of them are 5-6 years old at the time. Megumi who was recently orphaned and had a “cousin” named tsumiki who would look after him and not treat him like a prince. (She would scold him and treat him like a person and he grew to greatly respect her.

He learned to be humble by her, maki and Mai’s, and their friends. Megumi had a lot of friends growing up, Panda, Toge, Kamo, Todo, Momo, Miwa, Muta, all them knew him from his status. More so the head of clans were to meet and the others came by around middle school bc they’d have meetings with each other to have them all meet before they started in JJH.)

————————————-

Geto goes to see gojo at his place, you know, the 1000+acre plot of land that was supposed to suffice as Gojo’s own personal quarters. The same one where everyone and their mothers turned him away until they hear he’s Geto Suguru, to where they basically pull him in to ask him to get Gojo out of his room.

Geto is walked in, no knock or introduction. Gojos room, it was thick. The air was strong, you could feel it walking in. Geto goes to open the windows while keeping his demeanor. ”I’ve been picking up your slack everyday Gojo.“ Geto paused to let his friend talk over him, but that didn’t come. He looks back at Gojo in his bed, “C’mon seriously you out of all of us, you can’t be acting like this.”

“I thought you understood that I’m not like other people.”

“Well, before I said you’re not that special to be exempted out of stuff. We’re risking our lives as normal people while you can do months worth of our missions in a week, if you wanted.” Geto sighed, leaning on the wall next to the open vent.

Gojo’s aura, he could barely feel like it in the room, it wasn’t what was taking up the space before anyway. His voice was hard to even find. “….. What makes me so special then?”

Geto didn’t know what to say. This was real one of his worst bits. “You’re special because you’re Gojo Satoru. You are literally the strongest-”

“WHAT IS IT ALL FOR!?” Gojo snaps.

Oof, his jab of Gojo alone being the strongest always annoyed him. Gojo would say that they were the strongest, but Geto kept refusing. Gojo wouldn’t stop until they were equal, til they could bring him down to Geto, or what Geto hated was that they put him as far up as Gojo. It just kept showing him how different they were treated, but in this moment he shouldn’t have said it. “Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t-“

“I know.” Voice breaking, Gojo continued. “I already knew that you would do this, but somehow it still hurts more than the anticipation. I,” He sighed, using it to catch his breath, “I really wanted you to know me.”

Geto was speechless. His best friend, the one person who Gojo was so intrigued by, he trusted Geto enough to let him know what kind of life he lived. How do his words still go unnoticed? He’s still unheard, seen as a brat for being tended to. How could he live as an adult? That’s right, they’re rendering Gojo powerless still. Even while he’s an adult now.

“I’m sorry. We can go get ice cream-“

“Get out.” Suguru could only blink. He didn’t hear that right-

“GET OUT!”

Gojo had never raised his voice like this before. His tone was so stern Geto thought someone else may have been in the room with him. Speechless, he just turned and left.

———————————————-

“You seriously didn’t say anything?” Nanami wasn’t recovering well from Haibaras death. That was just insane, how time moves so much faster when your brain is panicking. Maybe if nanami could’ve moved his legs a bit faster maybe haibara could’ve just lost up to his knees, but no, his organs ended up missing too. There was no way anyone could help them.

The blond was grouchier than ever. He was angry. There wasn’t a curse in the world that could escape his wrath. He supposed he could sulk and stay upset, risking his life even more as it’d unbalance his fighting style. He had to stay focused but couldn’t do that without motivation.

————-

Haibara was the only person really getting him to help others. Of course he wanted to help people, it wasn’t right that most of the population are victims to themselves, and they don’t even know it. They can’t help it, someone once said to him, and it stuck with him since.

“Why is it our job to help them if they don’t even know the danger they’re in?” Nanami said aloud.

“What a stupid thing to say.” Haibara comes around, folding up his magazine and smacking nanami on the head. “You should help others because you want to, there shouldn’t be any other reason for it. You’d be bargaining forever at that point.”

“Yeah sure, I get that it’d be more mental gymnastics around it all, but seriously what’s the real reason?”

“If you keep asking yourself questions, that time could’ve been used to save another life. Don’t you feel better after knowing they’re safe? That you did something for other people like us?”

“They’re not like us.” Nanami grumbled. His 16 year old mind just didn’t get why it was up to him to save most of the population, it was a lot of responsibility, let alone how Gojo was born into it. That’s how Nanami keeps himself away from Satoru, and Suguru by association, but Haibara makes it apparent to always greet them.

He kept breaking through Nanami’s boundaries and showed him that it’s easier to do if he wants to do it. And he’s been on that ever since, trying to get his friend to think differently to better himself.

——————

Nanami heard about what happened to the two, and reached out to Utahime for Suguru’s number, which she also got from Shoko. Telling his upperclassman what happened to their mutual friend, it was a big step for him to open up. They sat side by side, nanami leaning all the way back, as much as gravity would allow, listening.

“He yelled at me.” Geto said.

“That’s not like him at all, he’d never do that. Did you really recover fully? Maybe we’re all going crazy.”

“No,” Geto stopped him. “He actually yelled at me. Like I felt like a little kid and he was the upset father for once.” Nanami could tell that upset him, it wasn’t about power and control but that was never their dynamic. Gojo was always the kid, he was always the one with energy and not a care in the world, because he was a brat, but also so elevated that he was neglected of course he was going to be ignorant to things, much less latching onto the first person that treated him with actual sincerity and decency.

“I wonder what he’s seeing right now. If he knows how much he hurt me because he just sees everything. I bet he saw this conversation when he woke up again.”

“Do you think he might’ve saw something while they were putting his head back on?” Fixing his glasses, nanami could remember the details when yaga, Suguru, and Shoko came back holding parts of the two

Maybe. But his vision keeps getting in the way of his life. He knows that, we all know it, but what can we do about it? He’s the strongest. After all the training they’ve done together, Gojo having deja vu and being able to be familiar with Geto’s moves really always pissed him off.

Gojo tried closing his eyes but it seemed better for him, the light was less intense and he just had to trust his senses. Gojo was told so many times, taunted by Geto, always saying that was why Gojo could never deliver him a fair fight.

Bzzzbzbbzz. Looking down on his phone, Geto was surprised to see Shoko’s contact with an image attached, showing Gojo resting in a bed. “Come over.”

“Nanami, I gotta go.” With no time to explain, Geto’s out the door. Nanami sighs and decides to buy some flowers.

—————————

Gojo wakes up to Geto coming over to the infirmary. His head is bandaged heavily and Geto wasn’t told why or what happened, he just thinks that it was a mission that he failed bc of how bad his headspace was.

Gojo is honestly quiet. He listens to Geto tell him how he can just go out and do anything with his head like that, making it vague. Gojo thinks that even after doing what he did, that Geto and everyone would still not feel anything for him, he needed pity. He needed shame to feel human. He needed to feel something.

Gojo just sits and listens to Geto. He missed his friend so much. He sits in his bed, looking out the window at the world outside.

Geto is running his mouth, saying things in a tone that only his best friend would understand, trying to say in the best way possible how he cares. He’s just so worried how Gojo could be so stupid without him. Not even a laugh. He was boiling water for some tea, just preparing whatever he found around the infirmary to make it less tense.

When Geto brings gojo his tea, gojos already asleep. He sets the cups on the nightstand, he sits and looks over at his friend, thinking that it suited him. Being quiet like this was something he could only wish upon to happen, but it was killing them both.

Geto realizes that Gojo was calling for him to come so he could sleep. He looked over his body and his fingers had skin picked off, his body looked like he lost some weight, and the bandages covering his head and face was bothering him. He wanted to see that his friend was really there, that he was okay.

Geto got up to go to the bathroom and when he came back, he found Gojo back up, drinking his cold tea in the dark.

[haydenssmolspace]

questioning if I am system or not

over the past few months, I have been questioning if I am part of a system or not, and I’ve never wanted to claim that I am because I don’t have a diagnosis and I feel bad whenever I self diagnose with something even if I’ve done extensive research

what initially brought this on is the fact that for about a year now I have seen a lot of system related content on my social media and I would always feel like I relate to that, but I’ve never really questioned it until the recent few months

I am not saying I do have alters however I have experienced a lot of amnesia a lot of loss of time and I do tend to dissociate a lot and for years I’ve just been “saying oh I’m on auto pilot” because I can do something black for hours then when I become mentally aware again usually hours later I become very confused of what is going on or what have I been doing for the past few hours because I can’t remember that which is why I’ve always said I’m on auto pilot when that happens because it’s the only way I can describe it however, I have experienced this all my life that I can remember

I also tend to experience some auditory hallucinations and I’ve heard some systems say that they have experienced that and it was actually their alters and not hallucinations, which would make sense. I would like to preface again, I know I might not be a system this could just be hallucinations.

My auditory hallucinations can range a lot, but they’re usually talking or sometimes crying or laughter too and even a cat. I’ve also had this forever from what I remember.

another thing is migraines I get a lot of migraines and I have heard this can be common with people who are plural. I get migraines a lot and I always have done. my migraines can be quite debilitating so obviously they are very painful

I do have childhood trauma. I remember some of it but not all of it (dont want to get into it) whenever I remember something that happened to me that is traumatic either in childhood or more times this can often trigger me into a dissociation episode or sometimes trigger my migraines which I heard is what it is like when you’re splitting that might not be what is going on with me I might not be I might have something else completely

I am just sharing this because I’m kind of scared to bring it up to people in real life because I know my parents would think I’m crazy. I don’t know if my friend would believe me I’m pretty much alone and I know this community is kind of accepting so I don’t know and also I can’t get a diagnosis for anything right now because in the UK, it is super hard to get mental help right now I went to my doctor not so long ago and she said that it could be a five-six years wait to see a psychiatrist about anything

I am still researching I’m still learning. I might turn out that I’m not also could be BPD or some kind of psychosis however I am if anyone has any good resources I would be happy to take them

[l4deeznuts]

getting emotional because it’s finally hitting me that the l4d fandom is so small nowadays :c

don’t get me wrong, it was never a big fandom anyways, even years back when it was at its most active

it’s super awesome that there’s still people a part of it to this day!! people still are making content, whether it be sfm, art, writing, etc… but it hurts that there’s not much, let alone not much frequency either

i totally get it tho. it’s a damn near 15yr old game, and not to mention a game that was basically just killing zombies lol. it doesn’t have what most fandoms want— deep lore, a storyline, lots of characters, etc. it makes sense that the fandom side isn’t going to be super active, especially today. hell, i was absent from the fandom for about 9 years. i just recently got back into it about 2 months ago or so. life definitely gets in the way.

and like i said, at the end of the day it’s just a first person shooter game.

but l4d was one of my first obsessions. i’ve been in many fandoms before, but l4d is the only one that i genuinely clung to. i’ve never been so invested in characters like i have with the survivors (the si too!)

i saw someone say that even tho they love the game and characters, have so many ideas for fics and sfm and whatnot, it’s basically hard for them to continue because there’s just no sense of community feeling anymore… and it’s because there’s almost no community anymore. it’s so hard to admit and accept that :/

and what makes me even more sad in a way is that tf2 is still a huge fandom. that’s super fucking awesome, nothing wrong with that at all, but it makes me sad that one valve game is super popular still fandom wise, while the other one isn’t.

the game community side of it is still active— on average there’s about 20,000 people playing per day. the highest i’ve personally seen recently has been almost 40,000 people. that’s super cool for such an old game!! but the fandom part of the game is so empty..

hopefully as time goes on there will be older fans coming back like how i did, or even new ones finding the fandom side and sticking around! i really don’t want this fandom to completely die.. if it ever does, a piece of me will always feel missing. already does tbh. i know that sounds super fucking corny but fuck man idk i have yet to find anything that makes me feel like how this game and it’s characters do. no show, movie, any other game.. nothin.

but it’s hard to actively be part of something that already isn’t active because it feels like you’re talking to a wall. it’s lonely. you want someone to gush over everything with, share ideas, role play— the list goes on.

i plan on continuing my love for the game and it’s fandom, and all i can do is appreciate the ones who are still here, and hope n pray that there will be more people again someday <3

[my-castles-crumbling]

Swiftie Anon

Hi guys! I got an ask from an anon that might be triggering so I'm copy-pasting it here so I can put a 'read more' button. I'm naming them Swiftie Anon because they said Taylor really helped them.

TW: SH, SI

Hi Cas, hope you’re ok, because I sure as hell am not. Trigger warning, like mentions of self harm and stuff like that I think.

I’m a seventh grader and recently I’ve been thinking about killing myself a lot more than I usually do. During the pandemic I was in 3rd grade and I kinda realized how much life sucked, but when I went back to school in 5th grade, I realized that this hadn’t occurred to anyone else. I kind of brushed it off bc I’ve always been sort of a pessimist but then I sixth grade I started having suicidal thoughts, I think. I just felt really done with everything, I didn’t want to draw or read or write, and my parents were pissed all the time, it felt like my friends were bored of me (I have abandonment issues from all my friends in elementary school leaving me) (I think)and I thought it would just be easier to not exist anymore, it wasn’t that good. I discovered Taylor, the angel that she is, she just felt…like a friend, like she was right there, you know, and I’ve been mostly okay-ish since. But school fucking sucks and in 7th grade I had to do a presentation in front of my class and I started crying and hyperventilating, I couldn’t even stand up. I think I have anxiety idk. I’ve always been shy, and I’ve hyperventilated before when my parents were yelling at me about stuff and my arms started bleeding because I was digging my nails into them. My parents found out at conferences and I got grounded. my brother knows bc he walked in on me crying and hyperventilating once but he’s leaving for college next year and idk how the fuck I’ll stay together without him. My younger sister and I are really close, but I don’t want to drag her in onto this stuff. And ik once I get to high school it’ll be even worse bc high school sounds horrible and I might be all alone again bc I might not go to the same high school as my friends

I haven’t said a word about this to anyone voluntarily and I know I can’t tell my parents. I always lie on those surveys you get at the doctor, and my parents are always saying I should have a more positive outlook on life and try to be happier and it makes me so pissed bc I am trying as hard as I can to be happening but nothing fucking works.

idk what do with myself anymore, a teacher mentioned college today and I almost broke down sobbing bc I don’t think I’ll let myself live that long. It’s just…really hard and everyday feels like years. Should I tell someone? I’m not as bad as I was in 6th grade, but I know I should be getting help somehow. But I suck at asking for things and I can’t trust any adults.

sorry for the rant, I just need some advice. And a virtual, pat on the head or something, idk.

---

Hi hon!

First, (with your permission), I'm like to give you a virtual hug, because it sounds like you're dealing with a lot <3

I'm gonna be really real with you right now: You need to ask for some help. You have a lot going on, and some really heavy feelings, and you don't deserve to be dealing with them at ALL, let alone by yourself.

You're young, and you have SO MUCH life left to enjoy, and suffering through it like this isn't fair. So I'm going to share something about myself with you, okay?

When I was younger, I was very depressed. I was in a bad relationship and I felt very trapped, and I got to a point similar to you.

One day, I got so overwhelmed that I sort of realized that I either needed to ask for help or I would end up making a really bad decision. So, I asked for help.

Again, I'm going to be real: It was SUPER scary. I had to see a lot of doctors and I cried a lot. But after a lot of work, I was able to get better, and now, years later, I am in a (different) healthy relationship, and I have a job and a pet, and I'm here talking to you.

I know this sounds stupid because it's like some feel-good story and right now I'm sure you feel less than great. But I say this because you NEED to ask for help, even if it is difficult. Because there are real things past this feeling. A future job, a future relationship (if you want), a future pet, future kids (if you want). They're all very real and achievable and this feeling is temporary, even thought it feels so permanent right now.

So I'm going to give you some options, since it seems like you don't want to talk to your parents:

Talk to a doctor. Doctors are trained to help you, and they have a lot of resources.

Talk to a trusted teacher. Teachers can sometimes be amazing resources as well, and a lot of them want to listen when you ask to talk.

Talk to a different adult (aunt, uncle, coach, someone!) that you feel close to that will help.

Call/text/message a hotline. Here is an example of a hotline you can talk to via messaging, text, or phone, depending on what you prefer.

But you need to ask for help, because you DESERVE to be happy and living your best life.

It would make me super happy if you message/inboxed me an update, whether you're doing better, worse, or the same! I'm so proud of you for reaching out and I'm cheering you on!

[averagetmntfan]

it’s crazy that 2023 is almost to an end! Another year that just flew by!

I’ll be honest, I was desperate to post my art somewhere. It’s been kinda a rough couple of years for me. And recently.

I was extremely sad last year. Around this time, actually. Let me paint a picture.

Last year, I switched schools. Which I guess doesn’t sound like a big deal, but it was to me. My whole life was at my other school. My friends. They were the best. As u can probably imagine, I starting at a brand new school is hard. Especially when everyone already knows eachother. This might come as a shocker, but I’m kinda Anti-social when it comes to ppl around my age. (Especially cuz ppl my age are such bitches Lmao) for the longest time, I coped using discord And tik tok. I Even made my own little group. But ofc, that had to come to an end too. after that, I was sad again. For the longest time I had all these ideas, but no one to really share them with.

(cuz none of my irl friends like nor watched tmnt) and recently I ended a friendship w/ someone. We were both in the wrong, I’ll admit. I did say somethings behind her back. Nothing too bad. But it did call her a hypocrite. Because she would always complain about our other friends leaving to hang out w/ other ppl. When she does the exact same thing. And I was alone. Alone at lunch. Just sitting there. She would treat me so..rudely. Just plain rude. I asked her a question (Idk what is was exactly) and she responded with such a rude response. And that was on fucking Halloween. (Which I was sick on) so that’s when the entire friendship fell to shit.

Since then I’ve been hanging out by myself in the library (well, the times it’s open anyway) so u can probably imagine how I feel. Then one day, it all changed. I discover this wonder escape. Tumblr. I signed up and made this acc. And I met such amazing ppl on it.

@allyheart707: has given me good advice on my little comic series, genially super nice, fun to chat w/. I think I’ve been mutuals w/ her for the longest.

@ghosty-0w0: very silly, I have so much fun doing art collabs w/ you!! Again, very nice and thoughtful. Mutuals for a bit but it feels longer!!

@mikey-rottmnt: the ultimate silly, whiteboard was to much fun (I’m gonna try and make another board for us lol), I have no idea how we became mutuals lmao. Very fun to chat w, always open to listen, caring and sweet. I enjoy having conversations w/ u!

@c00kietin: I had a lot of fun drawing u!!!, Irish gang 🍀☘️, that one time I didn’t get sleep was chaotic, very chill, a local amphibia fan!! I wanna talk more w/ u, cuz ur js so cool!!

I Hope y’all have an amazing new year! May the year bring u luck, kindness, adventures (hopefully) not artblock, and alot of ideas!! (Not that anyone of u need them, cuz ur so creative!!)

and dw..Hehe..I will make u all suffer w/ ANGST ANGST AND…fluff. JK MORE ANGST >:))

(no but real talk I will not js do all Angst I swear—)

I APOLOGIZE FOR THE OTHER MUTUALS THAT IK AND ARENT ON HERE, ITS CUX I FORGOT UR TAGS!!!

[flowercrowngods]

hello beautiful 💚 i just read the new part of who did this to you and you always deliver 🥰 super excited for part 4

i’m also here to ask if you have any tips for getting motivated to do things! if i remember you just moved to a new place right? i also moved to live on my own recently and i’m having a hard time not being a couch potato 🫠

hello lovely 🤍 i’m honestly so happy that you liked this recent part, because i feel it’s so different from the rest, i feel, so all the kindness y’all been throwing at me just. i’m so obsessed with yall 🥹🥰🤍

whoofie, that’s a tough one!! i did just move into a new place (and it’s been treating me so well honestly 🥹) and honestly i’m just so happy and excited that i get to just exist for myself yknow? i think that’s where i draw a lot of my motivation from — i was so afraid that once i lived alone i wouldn’t Get Shit Done anymore because i felt like a lot of the time i was Doing Things just so my roomie wouldn’t have to do them or so she’d not feel uncomfortable in her own home yknow?

but i found out that i love it when things are tidy, so i tidy tiny little spaces every few days. and i do it in bouts, yknow? don’t think “i’m gonna clean the flat today” and rather think “it’s been a while since i done laundry, so that’ll be my thing for the day” and then it’s so so bearable. or just go “i’ll give myself 20 minutes to take out trash and do the dishes” because most of the time it’s tiny things that will make such a difference.

like, your trinkets and knickknacks and those pens and those letters or whatever, they can stay where they are, they’re not bothering anyone. but that trash? collecting empty containers or wrappers for one minute will make you feel so much better, and it doesn’t take too much effort, because you’re not staring at all your space finding things that are out of place and need to be moved back to their place. you just see a wrapper here, a price tag there, a yogurt container over there on your desk.

and those are usually the things that weigh on you. the things that stare at you. trash, dishes and laundry. and no one in the world can tell you that you gotta do it all at the same time on the same day. and then sometimes, when you’re collecting the trash, you’ll find yourself picking up a knickknack here and a book there, a letter that needs to go with the others or that thing you’ve been meaning to mail.

and if you don’t, then that’s fine. but you will.

so i guess what motivates me is making all those tiny chores about making myself feel good. it’s self care, taking out that trash. it’s self care, washing those plates and cups. at least it’s self care when it’s done!

something else that helps me is being patient with myself and making plans. genuine plans of “tomorrow i’ll do this�� — and not just because i don’t wanna do it today. but because i know that if i start my day tomorrow already improving my space, then that day is on its way to only getting better, and i’ve already accomplished things 🥰

the thing is a lot of us grow up in a world where we take out the trash because our parents tell us, we do the dishes because our roommates say it’s our turn, and we wash because we’re told we smell or whatever. it’s always external, that motivator. so maybe start by listening to yourself, lending an ear to that little voice inside of you that feels better about living in a clean(er) space. that little voice that loves the smell of laundry detergent. the one that’s proud of yourself for having done all those dishes because that really is an accomplishment.

listen to those little voices and then try to get them to come out more often; just for yourself. and then in time you’ll learn to find joy in just having done things. and personally i need that kind of joy, because i’m not someone who can enjoy the process. but i like taking care of myself; i like those little voices. 🥰🤍

and also?? personally, to-do lists help me. a little reminder that i’ve done things. maybe apps where you earn XP for having done things, gamified chores or whatever. they’re an immense help when i am in too deep a darkness that i can’t hear any happy voices. setting a timer helps. 30 minutes to Do Things. or maybe start with 3 minutes.

and also learn for yourself what’s most important to you when it comes to Doing Things, and learn to cater to that.

ah shit i rambled. is that any help at all? 😂 i hope it is hdhdhd mwah!! 🤍 (anyone else have any tips, drop them in the comments or tags 🥰🫶)

[whoslaurapalmer]

hopefully you don’t still have a sinus headache!

recently, i’ve been thinking about baby bea getting to go to normal school and making non-vfd friends her own age, and violet, klaus and sunny having messy complicated feelings and fears about this but mostly being very happy for her.

yes!! thankfully i am now sinus headache FREEEEE

and!!!! AAAAAAAA YES..........

i think sunny and babybea both get to go to normal school and they have like, similar but, different struggles re: interacting with people at school. sunny purposely distances herself from her classmates for a long time bc she's Going Through It when she and her siblings come back from the island and before they find babybea, like there's a lot of mystery around this girl who just showed up and she heavily encourages the mystery bc she doesn't have the patience to deal with anybody while she's trying to fit back into the world, her life, trying to find her sister, trying to figure out what she remembers of the past and what she doesn't. (i am team 'sunny remembers the events of canon physically more than she actually truly remember-remembers them, but remembers the island the best.' do we have metaphorical teams for how much sunny remembers of canon?) i think she.......feels like she has to contend with the legacy of not only lemony's books but geraldine's punctilio articles, more than violet and klaus. ANYWAY. all this to say, in the nature of children, certain kids have a real laser focus on kids they think are Weird Or Different and sunny fits both of those things and she's definitely 1) been in a few fights bc she reacts physically 2) grabbed a kid's arm and bit him. it was not a pleasant parent-teacher conference for violet. by high school she's probably a little better. they have babybea back and have created the extended baudelaire family unit and i think she feels a little more secure in the world. as secure as a fourteen year old can feel...........................she gets encouraged to take the culinary elective in high school.

sunny, with deep-seated certainty, while using a ruler and an enormous knife to cut petit fours in the kitchen: can't teach me anything i don't know.

but she takes it anyway. she enjoys it greatly and does, in fact, learn new things. she makes some friends.

ANYWAY. YES. BABYBEA. she's spent so much time alone, and she's good at it. she enjoys it. but she really wants friends she just doesn't quite know how to do it. she's very close to her family, and she loves them more than anyone else, but she'd like to be close to other people her own age too, it's just not something that comes very naturally to her. but she LOVES school and she really likes being around people. her interests are just. not. necessarily. aligned. with her classmates. babybea herself has been in a vfd school, after all, along with all the Lemony Snicket Was Briefly Her Guardian While Helping Her Find Her Family And I Am Sure That Was A Real Time shenanigans. she does find it easier to talk to the adults (plus sunny) in her life and it's hard for her. clearly they encourage it bc As Adults they are aware, theoretically, It Is Good For A Child To Have A Super Normal Upbringing That DOESN'T Involve, Say, Scaling A Mountain For Reasons (even though literally every single one of them has scaled a fucking mountain. babybea included.), but yeah, there ARE complicated messy feelings!!!! violet and klaus didn't really get to finish their education the way they should've. lemony and the sbg were entrenched in vfd. sunny is, see previous paragraphs. i guess it's a lot of heightened parenting emotions. is your child safe at school vs is the small child you have guardianship over safe at school and TOTALLY not going to be, say, kidnapped by the ankle one random day. are the people your children knows people they're going to be safe with? normal parenting fears vs a vfd fear. sigh. and it's not like violet and klaus easily get along with the parents of babybea's classmates bc they aren't her parents. they're siblings and they're babybea's Family. there's things they can talk about but there's still a real disconnect, you know?

meanwhile babybea is just going 'have you seen [black and white movie of your choice]??' and her classmates are going '............no??' sigh, again.

but i think she wants to join band!!!!!!! oh.....babybea as a little band kid.................so i think she learns the accordion from lemony, and either the school system she's in is That Weird (as some are) that they need an accordion or, she plays the clarinet. god she's probably drum major in high school i'm sobbing. that's precious. also babybea is like permanently 10-13ish in my head bc otherwise i get upset about the passage of time bc she's BABY goddammit so it hurts to think about her as any older than that but let's think of her as drum major in the far, far distant future.

anyway anyway band is great for her!! a lot of the other kids in her year look up to her bc she develops a wide music (and music theory) knowledge and they go to her for help a lot and she's so thrilled and so pleased and that's how she really starts interacting with other kids. eventually they talk about more than just music, but one must start somewhere. the first time she goes over a friend's house is Harrowing for the adults, but they survive. but babybea's friends LOVE going to her house bc the baudelaire household feels very comforting and homey. nothing beats a friend's homey house and violet and klaus' spirited (if minorly overbearing bc they love babybea) hospitality. they also think sunny is super cool. (everybody has a crush on sunny. she almost gets concerned about it, but she is the coolest.)

babybea's friends: your sister is THE COOLEST babybea: she's not my sister, she's my family? babybea's friends: so, like, your sister babybea: no! just. family. babybea's friends: then who's that guy lemony: ? babybea: that's my uncle. babybea's friends: so why is sunny not your sister? babybea: because!

oh! so babybea starts a book club. her friends suggest it bc the baudelaire family library is so big and has so many books and so many fun places to read, that she and her friends have a lot of fun hanging out and reading books. lemony takes the news with deep horror and trepidation. but it all works out okay. the worst the book club gets is like, a bunch of kids arguing about who gets to be which character in each book they get obsessed with. which can be vicious enough, you know. sometimes babybea gets them to sit down and watch an old movie. occasionally, in the spirit of all good book clubs, they get pizza.

[luveline]

hi jade! i think your concerns about the way people are treating you are completely valid!! you are allowed to speak up and say actually people aren’t being that nice to me and it isn’t victim mentality, the people we’re surrounded by have serious effects on us as humans because we’re social creatures and have always depended on one another so when the people around us make us feel bad and like there’s something wrong with us your brain convinces you that there must be!!! but there isn’t, you’re just not with the right people! but don’t worry they’ll come; you have to trust the universe she will always provide for you.

i think life’s stressful at the minute, i’m feeling it too! the job market in the UK is so so difficult and being unemployed is a real kick in the teeth, being at the age where all your friends are off dating but you’re not and you’re not even sure you want to is really isolating because you know your friends don’t want to see you as much because there’s someone else for them now, they get to go home to someone and you don’t, i’ve been following you for a while because i like your work but also because you make me feel less alone, a lot of the problems you face i also face, you post complaints and worry they’re annoying but i read them and know the world isn’t as small or as dark as my room, that i’m not completely alone even in my isolation- and i want you to know that the way people treat you isn’t fair! you deserve the kindness and joy you put out, you deserve it ten fold! you’ll get it one day i promise, i think continuing in an environment that’s hard for you is a very brave thing to do, yoy just have to remember it’s not forever 🫶🏻

I think I’m like, always looking at myself through someone else’s eyes, if that makes sense?

So instead of being able to just say people haven’t been that good to me lately, I read it in someone else’s head and think oh look Jade’s on another ego trip she thinks she deserves more than she has because she’s delusional but honestly, right now, I think so many people have disappointed me, not like they’ve hurt me or that a persons job is to be perfect, and not that we should expect people to be perfect and never disappoint us because I really don’t think that and don’t think we should expect people to read our minds and always be their perfect selves, but oh my god! Oh my god I am so tired of people acting like there’s nothing wrong with me when I am constantly telling people I am not okay. Obvi this doesn’t apply to everyone in my life because some people of course don’t even know how I feel and that’s my choice because like I’m vaguely private as a person (you wouldn’t think so on luveline.tumblr) so I’m not saying every person in my life is letting me down, but a surprising selection of friends and family have really hurt me lately. It’s so complicated! I hope you’re getting a sense of what I’m saying cos I am not doing a good job. I sent a friend a message recently about how I’d felt like hurting myself (they’ve told me in the past it’s okay to bring up btw I promise I’m not just randomly saying such heavy things to friends) and they didn’t acknowledge it, and I know we can’t expect people to be at our beck and call or to always have the capacity for our hurts and pains, but I felt so ashamed of myself for opening up and just wished they’d said hey I don’t have the space for that right now, or anything. Maybe that’s silly. I don’t hold it against them because that’s a big thing to tell someone, but I really can’t help feeling hurt that it was ignored. I don’t want to be that person who imposed on friends and doesn’t seem to realise what a burden they are, but I also just don’t know what to do with myself now, because i can’t keep writing the same thing in my diary every day. my head hurts allll the time and I’m barely eating and some days I spend the whole day in bed, and I know that that’s making me bitter, I know that when you get super depressed we can start to hate everything, but I really can’t help thinking that I’m being let down for real

I don’t want you to think that I’m ungrateful for the people in my life though I’m blessed to have a family and to live in a home with no shouting, I’m lucky to have friends who go out and people who want me to be safe and happy, I just feel so lonely lately. Usually I’m pretty good at getting over it, but I can’t kick this. I know exactly what’s hurting me and I’m too afraid to say what it is in case people think I’m childish, or selfish, or ridiculous 😭

I’m sorry you’re having a hard time like you said everything is so hard, but I’m glad you don’t feel so alone, at least my mindless deluge of thoughts (and idiocy) can have a positive! Thank you for listening to me lovely