#im sitting here thinking why am i still alive but not in a depressed way just like a genuine question??

[soppsop]

i just rememberd adhd meds exist and now im upset because i could have that if it wasn't for that freakin neurologyst we went to see that told us it was impossible that i could have adhd because i have good grades in school. literally the ONLY question he asked me and immediately said it was impossible. we spent like 5 minutes there. he could've at least... explained something???? anything?????? and now i'd feel bad about asking my parents to see another neurologist because that costs a lot of money :((

[metamatar]

hope it's okay to ask, but do you have any advice for like. internalizing that self harm and suicide aren't really helpful

obvs this is all personal, so depending on your personal beliefs and the dimensions of depression it may not apply. im sure some of this can make it worse for you personally. reader beware etc. im sure this is terribly revealing of what my problems are. but i can't ignore you.

for self harm my advice here is more harm reduction bc i think the internalisation of that not being useful to you is way more specific to why you harm and needs like. work.

for suicide, because i think fighting both takes different tactics and some of these are things that work temporarily:

relief from anguish is a feeling. you have to be alive to experience a feeling. even if you don't remember that feeling and don't feel capable of it what if you stuck around to see it? it would be transcendent.

you want out from something. think about drastic decisions you can take before killing yourself that can change things that fuck you up. drop out of school? quit your job? start living on a friends couch? break up with your partner? trans your gender?

suicide closes off any other possibility. it is a very loud scream of autonomy but it will be the last time you get to make a decision. is that truly enough autonomy for you?

you have wanted to die before. you have not wanted to die before. your feelings are complicated and contradictory. you cannot entrust your whole life to them.

be curious about your future. im serious. i've changed so much by now from the limiting self i was when i was 15 and couldn't imagine being 18 and now im beyond 25 and im curious what i'd be like at 35. bargain. to see those years. i mean maybe you'll be cured which is a fun fantasy but i don't really believe that. maybe you'll be worse. but which? and how? the wikipedia summary of your life is not the life experience. the texture of your anguish changes too.

consider survival more valuable to your self worth. it matters. you had to do it anyway but you did it so it still matters. yeah you cracked a bit but you can be proud of being alive.

now, more controversially before you kill yourself, consider making it worse. indulge self destruction some other way. do something inadvisable that's less permanent.

and now, after endorsing self harm as a means of avoiding suicide and making everyone mad. stuff i've internalised to do less self harm:

i am the only person in the world responsible for me. choose less harm. the doctors won't choose less but i will.

same stuff about making one drastic change.

just one thing make it safer? then do it safer. you can look this stuff up on forums.

pick a replacement behaviour that you think is slightly better. do it. fail it. do it again. force yourself to over indulge in it while the haze passes.

you kind of have to sit with the things that hurt you that the self harm soothes and try to change them. sorry. do it slowly and do it excessively and keep trying.

i am not the only person in the world who does this. read about it talk about it and keep it held in your heart that this is something about yourself that you feel the need to change. i like art about it.

fighting it a little is giving you a fresher newer self back. do you like them? don't you want to meet them?

relief is not contentment. wouldn't contentment be even more transcendent?

[gazingatthevoid]

journal entry

lost souls scenes:

scene i

greeting a long lost friend, a loved one who I havent seen in many years, but everything is so simple. We have a lot of history; most things must remain unsaid.

friend/lover/caregiver: that’s our exit again, we keep passing it. me (the version from when I died, 2021): I know. friend/lovercaregiver: If you know then why are we still driving me (2021): oh my god i forgot! friend/lover/caregiver: lack of concern/ disinterested what did you forget? me (2021): I always keep a lucky cigarette in the glovebox, would you like to share? friend/lover/caregiver: no emotion, straight face, more disinterest. it is very hard to get attention or emotional reactions or reassurance.

im tired of feeling stuck, i feel stuck. a cigarette is nice, but it’s time for something bigger, a shift. something to grab my shoulders and shake me and ugh.

me (2021): i dont know, things seems dont seem so bad? i’m comfortable, are you comfortable? Why cant we both just be comfortable and stable and nothing changes? do i make you feel stuck? i can get out of the car right now if that’s what you want, like i will quite literally just jump out and walk away. voice is getting unnecessarily loud, and agitation and frustration starts to build in my chest.

*deep breath*

hmm..

i feel lost, like i’m not going somewhere, im not doing something i just feel empty and confused. i think that’s my way of coping with the relentless and overwhelming change and choas of just being alive.

*rhetorical* how much of our memory lingers after a loss? when is it useful? when it surfaces how can i savor it?

friend/lover/caregiver: you know we dont know each other well at all. i cant help you with these thoughts. please dont jump out of the car? why would you even say that..

me (2021): feeling like a dumb bitch.

me (2022)- character notes: she does not seem to know how to really sit with things, everything appears stressful and important to her. she tries to help people but it falls flat or is downright harmful, she fails to enjoy the beauty and joy in the world. for this reason: sex, drugs, desire, pleasures appeal strongly. she has a problem with following her whims, especially during moments of crisis

they are both still in the car, resigned to their fate, but restless

me (2013-2023): BOREDOM. I’m tired of the monotony. every car, sign, and light is blurring together for me, your company as well. i’m getting a migraine. it’s not that painful yet but i do feel it right behind my eyes, just sitting there, aching. i feel like it’s threatening to get worse, to hurt me. are you upset with me? ive been thinking about the things you said last week, im not sure if you remember.

friend/lover/caregiver: deep sighh i do not want to be here with you anymore. if i had any agency over the situation i would leave. do you understand that? I am only here with you because i have no other options.

scene iii

me (clinically depressed, addicted to nigotine and sex still, attempts to pray and fast and worship and organize. they do not come naturally, it is hard work. everyday is hard work).

me (non static, present, in motion): *lights cigarette and takes a drag nice and slow. *pause* friend/lover/caregiver: I would like a drag. me (non static, present, in motion): *silently hands the cigarette over while noticing the breathing, facial expression and other small details of the other person. these things are important to establish safety in any given moment. allegedly. friend/lover/caregiver: I always lvoe the open road. me (non static, present, in motion): cars are terrifying! friend/lover/caregiver: please dont interrupt me. I hate that. It makes me not want to talk to you. me (non static, present, in motion): attempting to regain composure and not get upset which would just make the situation worse. i got excited, but im listening, please continue friend/lover/caregiver: *loud sigh, deep breath* okay. me (non static, present, in motion): smiles with satisfaction, disaster was adverted. friend/lover/caregiver: I connect with the car, I feel it is an extension of myself, like an appendages that makes me powerful and extends my awareness. on the open road I can engage fully with this awareness without distraction, it calms me.

In a car, we are free, we can go anywhere we want. it’s this balance between wanting to go to leave, but being so at peace in the comfort of the car I never want to stop. and that’s true. I never want to stop, to disrupt the balance. change isnt really change if you’re moving between static places. It is, but the anxiety of it dissipates. that’s all i ever wanted really, to finally be still

[taxfraudhousewife]

hey toga

getting a job didn’t cure the depression

the new kind of depression

at least it’s not personal anymore

at least everyone doesn’t hate me for reasons no one can place but everyone can see

i don’t know what to do now

i have so many questions

i wish it didn’t take me so long to think of them

i’m sorry i took so long

i really wish you were here

my friends don’t want to do illegal shit

my mom thinks i’m brainwashed

maybe you are too

i can’t decide if it’s better or worse than regular brainwashing

what the fuck did you do

i haven’t even internalized your actual death how am i supposed to internalize the fucking concept of socialism without tearing myself inside out

how did you hold your outsides out

what kind of outside did you even have to grow

i think mine is bad

i know yours is worse

how did you just sit inside your own outside

i can’t keep it separate

maybe we’re not supposed to

but everyone else can

i can’t tell if you did

i assume not if you were abusing that many substances

but you weren’t as insufferable as i am

that extremely likeable disposition

i know it’s wrong to be jealous of you

it’ll never stop until i am you

i wouldn’t have to be become you if you were still here

if you took me with you or not i could’ve been something else

someone whose muslim jesus is alive and well

im so desperate to be the person you might’ve turned me into

but there is no one to do the turning

except for me

who still really misses you

me who can’t just let you go

maybe i’m just a woman who needs a man to follow and serve

so ready to throw the second brick that the first no longer crosses my mind

and boy have i seen my beloved men be strong and brave

but maybe that’s why i put too much faith in them

it could’ve been you

i will never get over that

a god i would fight to my death for

isn’t that dramatic from me of all people

id probably get you killed a lot sooner

you’d never let me come in the first place

you’d talk me out of it and i’d obey because that’s what religious freaks do

who knows how long i’d spend believing im meant to follow the rules

because you’d say what you need to say to keep me from becoming you

i’m not anything like you tho

i’m too scared to do anything alone

and jesus louisis i am so alone without you

and i’m so fuckin lost and i miss you

my friends say let it eat itself

but that would make you an accelerationist

and i have that same accelerationist demon inside

but he’s just as afraid to act alone as i am

it’s so lonely

that’s the point

and i could get over myself for the sake of actual human connection

i could let the world eat itself

maybe even be happy

and you wouldn’t blame me

you’d probably encourage it

i know you wouldn’t want me to throw away my undeserved place in the machine for ideologies and promises

i know you wouldn’t want me under the fireworks and orchestras

it must’ve been hard

the balance between keeping the teenagers safe and radicalizing them too far

teaching revolution without violence

when you know it’s not possible

i assume they weren’t as hardcore loyalist as me

i assume they know better than me that nothing is possible without violence

i imagine you desperately wrangling angry nineteen year olds

your incantations are only half as effective on them

i keep wondering if you were afraid that you’d set them up for death so young

wish you’d wrangle me

or choose not to

but an active choice rather than dead omission is all i really want

i could hate myself less if you carved away what you deemed excess

if i could keep everything in me that i learned from you

if the reactionary anger slathered over the grief could melt away in your light

if everything in me had your seal of approval

come on muslim jesus

you’re the closest thing i’ll have to a real prophet

i’m sorry i thought you were too smart for your religion

i get it now (in a way)

you showed me where to find fundamental truths about the universe

maybe in a way you were too smart for your religion

but your golden light didn’t come from your smarts

your light was fever hot and smelled like ketosis breath

damp like my gong gongs jungle and dehydrated like my grandmas sand storms

scaled like a dragon and sweetly sung like a bird

i felt like a cat laid in the sun

is it crazy how bad i wish i could curl up with you again

i used to fantasize about your angry nineteen year olds busting you out and sending you here

sometimes i still do

they were strong and able to pull it off because of what you gave them

sent you here swollen and bruised but with your organs intact

and you just needed to rest for a week and you voluntarily rested

because you believed those angry nineteen year olds had east turkistan in the bag

and i doted on you like you did me when we were both younger and more functional

and between the doting i curled up beside you and watched you write and after every word i’d ask

what’s that say

you’d respond in perfect russian

and i would say naxui and roll my eyes at you

and you would roll your eyes at me

and i would press my brow to yours and try not to cry

cause at this point in the maladaptive daydream i’ve remembered it’s not real

if i could cradle that giant asian head and just hold on for five more seconds

i don’t need enough time to confess my undying religious devotion

but enough for you to know that even tho i can’t say it to anybody i love you

and i believe you

[tearstoshed4ever]

the skin has startd to dry and flake

from always having it sticking out of the ground

the thing her best friends warned her about has happened

"Horrid. Positively horrid." She sighs, looking forlorn. She wants to be sad about it but somehow she knows it's just how it is. There's no use crying over it

shed begain to rot

she drys her eyes with the backs of her hands then picking up the candle pours some hot wax into her open plam

"Nothing. No pain at all" she sighed, not realizing her guardians were approaching

she wanted to get the knife from under her pillow and slash her wrists

still not noticeing them she puts down the candle gets up and goes to her bed

drawing out the knife

to lost inher own mirsty

to notice

she puts the sharp blad to her left wrist and pulls it arcross

black tarlike blood ozzes from the the cut

bringing froth the smell of rot

but once again she feels no pain

if u cut me with a knife its still the same she sniffles and begins to sob again

her tears salting the wound

Jun 28, 2021 6:49 PM

hey what the hell do u think your doing

maggot yells

starling her and making her drope the knife

Jun 28, 2021 9:49 PM

hi

Jun 29, 2021 8:03 PM

so this is what happens if im not in your head all the time

u go and do something stupid like this

malating your pretty skin

and getting blood blood on your dress

sloppy carless stupid little goose

maggot snerred trying to hide how worryed he is

hurt embrassed and deprssed emily flopps sidways on the matresss and weeps into her pillow her bedgallged hair falling over her face

Jun 30, 2021 4:38 AM

"oh stop with all that nonsense! You're not failing you're mother. Nobody's pissed at you for leaving. They're all drunk and having a bloody good time. Do they wish you were there, yes? Do they understand why you left, yes? Don't worry about it!" Widow said

and that was enough to finally get though to her

she smiled

your right

im done moping

done crying

and done being depressed

"I'm going to take action! I'll find a husband and finally get out of here!" Emily declared

and u and maggot are coming with me

when i leave

she added

Jun 26, 2021 11:51 PM

She kissed her finger pressed it to widows head then stood up

Come on widow let’s go back to the party and have some fun

Jun 27, 2021 5:48 AM

"As you wish, dearie." Widow smiled. She was happy Emily was trying to move on. Even if she wasn't entirely happy yet, she could be way less sad.

Jun 27, 2021 11:37 AM

and with that they rejoined the party

the end

Jun 27, 2021 4:53 PM

Yay! Are you happy with how it turned out?

yes very

now we gotta do the other prequel

the bday one

Jun 27, 2021 8:27 PM

The birthday one? I've forgotten about that, what was that one about?

its gonna be a follow up to this one

its one year into her death

Oh right, I remember now.

this is where the things hinted at in the last one come in

we start with her alone in her room once again

the ally virabtes with tiny sobs

and sniffls

she sits on the stepsa buring candle in her lap

cold tears streaking down her pale blue cheeks

shes a mess

her beauful blue hair is a scarggly clumpy tangled mess

her mascura caked in the hollows of her eyes

making her look like a very pretty raccon

Jun 28, 2021 12:46 AM

Depressed, the only light she sees is the flame of the candle. She'd never notice how alive fire was. It made her jealous. "I could snuff you out right now, if I wanted." Emily tells it, her fingers coming close to the flame. But the fire is unafraid. It flickers in, as if she doesn't exist

Snilffing she boldly sticks one finger into the dancing flame

She expects to be burned, to feel any type of pain. But there's nothing. It all just feels cold. She's completely numb, everywhere but in the inside

If I touch a burning candle I can no pain

She whimpered

She try’s again with all the fingers of her right hand

Jun 28, 2021 3:55 PM

but just gets the same reselt

scwoling she looks at her left arm

though tearfilled eyes

and and hand

the skin has startd to dry and flake

from always having it sticking out of the ground

the thing her best friends warned her about has happened

"Horrid. Positively horrid." She sighs, looking forlorn. She wants to be sad about it but somehow she knows it's just how it is. There's no use crying over it

shed begain to rot

she drys her eyes with the backs of her hands then picking up the candle pours some hot wax into her open plam

"Nothing. No pain at all" she sighed, not realizing her guardians were approaching

she wanted to get the knife from under her pillow and slash her wrists

still not noticeing them she puts down the candle gets up and goes to her bed

drawing out the knife

to lost inher own mirsty

to notice

she puts the sharp blad to her left wrist and pulls it arcross

black tarlike blood ozzes from the the cut

bringing froth the smell of rot

but once again she feels no pain

if u cut me with a knife its still the same she sniffles and begins to sob again

her tears salting the wound

Jun 28, 2021 6:49 PM

hey what the hell do u think your doing

maggot yells

starling her and making her drope the knife

Jun 28, 2021 9:49 PM

hi

Jun 29, 2021 8:03 PM

so this is what happens if im not in your head all the time

u go and do something stupid like this

malating your pretty skin

and getting blood blood on your dress

sloppy carless stupid little goose

maggot snerred trying to hide how worryed he is

hurt embrassed and deprssed emily flopps sidways on the matresss and weeps into her pillow her bedgallged hair falling over her face

Jun 30, 2021 4:38 AM

(hi, sorry I was gone yesterday. I had a rough day at work and then just went straight to sleep when I got home.) "oh maggot, that's not the way! You're being too rough on the girl!" Widow chides. Quickly she runs over to Emily, creating a web with her spindly legs and putting it on Emily's wound like a bandage. "Rough!? I'm rough! If she wasn't already dead, she would have killed herself! We can't let her harm herself like that or she'll turn to dust before we know it!" Maggot bristled.

the thought of turning to dust made emily cry even harder

Jun 30, 2021 5:03 PM

"Shh! maggot! See what you did!" Widow snaps before turning to comfort Emily. "Don't listen to him Emmy, that won't happen. You'll have to be older than an Egyptian mummy before that happens. You'll never see that far because you're going to find a nice young man before then."

i dont see how now that im fucking rotting emily sobbed sitting up

look at me she wailes thrusting her [ealing arm at them

pealing

the cut had ripped off a chuck of skin eposing the bone under nethg

more tears spill down her cheeks

Jul 1, 2021 1:15 AM

and her bottom lip quakes

"oh...oh dear, now don't cry! Uhm...perhaps the fancy ladies have something to cover it up! Perhaps needle and thread can do the trick." Widow suggested

well what about this emily whimpered getering to her stab wound that had now decayed to the point that her ribs showed

"I...I'm afraid it's too late for that, dear. But maybe the other spiders and I can repair the dress so it doesn't show?" Widow proposed. "What's the point! It would only get ruined again!" Emily wailed.

this is the wosrt fucking brithday ever she howled bursting into deep gurtter sobs

guttler

Jul 1, 2021 5:19 PM

chocking on her own tears

Jul 1, 2021 7:23 P

[nortnaibz]

if we dont get to talk to them abt the house on wednesday im seriously going to lose it <3

[spencessmile]

Page 143

Pairing - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary - Spencer finds your journal.

Warnings - Depression, thoughts of suicide, self-harm, mentions of death, & angst.

Please know that you are NEVER alone. There are people who love you. Don't be afraid to ask for help. YOU. ARE. WORTH. IT. I LOVE YOU.

Word Count - 1.3 K

And all imagines/fanfics/blurbs are written solely by me so please don't steal my work and/or post it without my consent. Feedback and Comments are welcome. Happy reading!

{Part 1 of 2}

Requests are CLOSED!

**

When you didn’t answer the door Spencer slid his spare key into the lock, turning the knob, closing the door, and setting the bag of food down on the table, as he switched on the lights.

“Y/n, you home? It’s Spencer,” Nothing. It was quiet.

Spencer knew you were having a rough couple of days so he decided to drop by bringing some rental movies and food; he knew you loved your cheesy rom coms and Thai takeout.

Spencer walked to your bedroom door, pushing it open as he noticed case files were spread across the floor. Your desk night lamp was on, with a half cup of black coffee sitting beside it.

In all the years that Spencer had known you, he definitely realized one thing about you quickly; you were messy. You were not an organized or neat person. You kept things all over the place and it was beyond Spencer’s comprehension, on how you ever found anything.

Spencer maneuvers his way through your mess, as he grasps your blinds, pushing them apart letting in the morning sun as it illuminates the dark colour scheme in the bedroom. He cracks open the window for a breeze.

Spencer sighs, looking around your room. Your go-to bag was stationed beside your bed, where it always is. Your work phone was sitting on your nightstand beside a glass, Spencer raised the glass and a strong dose of whiskey filled his nose. He noticed a pile of clothes besides your closet, which was most likely weeks of unwashed and dirty clothing.

Spencer dug his hand into his jacket pockets, as he stood amongst your disaster, he felt as if your room was staring back at him, yelling ‘clean me’.

Spencer knew you’d be super pissed at him for touching anything of yours. You liked your stuff messy; whether that be your desk space at work, your apartment, your room, or even your life. You didn’t like it when people picked at it.

Spencer couldn’t help it as he shuffled through your room, wrapping your case files and organizing them alphabetically. He grabbed your laundry basket, dropped all your clothes in as he dumped them into the washer, and added a little extra soap. He made his way to your kitchen, putting all your dishes in the dishwasher. Next, Spencer went to turn off your night light but accidentally knocked over a pile of books sitting next to your open laptop.

As he reached down to pick the books up, his eyes glanced over to a small leather book. He slowly reached for it, his hands meet a soft velvet texture. Spencer turned it over to read the words ‘This Is Who I Am’ written in cursive. His eyes moved to the right-hand side where your initials were carved.

This wasn’t a book.

It was your journal.

Spencer didn’t think much of it, he placed it on the side of the desk, reaching for the other books. Once Spencer collected your books, he placed them back on your desk, he quickly turned around but halted his steps as something fell making a loud thud noise. He noticed your journal on the floor again but this time it was opened.

Spencer reached down to pick it up, but he couldn’t help notice it was dated two days ago along with the time.

No, he shouldn’t.

He can’t possibly read what you’ve written in your journal. Those are your thoughts. Thoughts that belonged solely to you. That wasn’t anyone else’s business. Not even his; definitely not his.

He can’t do this.

He couldn’t do this to you.

But the longer Spencer stared at the journal, the urge to read it spread through his body. His eyes already read the first sentence.

The damage was done.

He looked over towards the door and then back down at the journal. He pulled out your chair, turned your nightline on, and began reading.

December 15, 2019 | 4:18 AM |

I can’t walk without wanting to fall apart. Im breaking. I can feel myself falling to pieces; all over again. Nothing is working. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t do this all over again. I barely made it out alive the first time around. I didn’t fight the last time; I was pulled out.

My mind is dark, cloudy and it’s always raining down on me. It’s a shitstorm up in there. I can feel myself slipping away from my own hands. I can’t grasp onto anything. I'm starting to feel blank, nothing. I can’t feel the hot water from the hour-long showers that burn at my skin. The boiling hot coffee when I over pour my cup. The rain when I stand outside as I let it drown me in my darkness. The warmth of some random strangers smiling as they pass me on the street. The morning sun that used to light up my insides, only makes me want to hideaway. Or even my own laughter when I pretend everything is okay for a split second.

I can’t breathe.

When I stand I can’t feel my own legs, I spend days on the floor. I lay there feeling lifeless, worthless, a burden to this world. I hate the person I see in the mirror.

I hate her. The problem is; no one hates me more than I hate myself.

She is a twisted dark person.

I have no control.

I’ve spent days and nights gripping the bottle tightly, sometimes it’s the only thing I look at. I opened it once, I dropped one into my palm and stared at it for what felt like years. I hate myself but I can never get myself to take it down. Why not? What twisted part of me still wants to live? To still be here? What is there to live for? Who is there to live for?

I’m drowning in the emptiness of nothing.

My job. My job. My job.

What the hell am I supposed to say when someone tells me I saved their life but I can barely keep mine intact. Do I say your welcome? Should I have wrapped my arm around them and held them tightly enough to make myself feel whole again? Instead, I smiled at them and said ‘you keep fighting, alright?’

I go out there and I do my job so damn well that no one knows what happens when I'm alone. But how much longer? How much longer before I crash and burn in front of them? Until they figure it out? Once they do, they'll try to help; no one can help me now. Who will they be trying to save? One of them is already on to me. I already get broken looks from them. I get sidelined and benched. They have no idea who’s dying behind that smiling face. But I love them, my God, do I love them. They are the only family I’ve ever had but I can’t tell them. I can’t drag them down with me. I love them so for my sake and theirs, im letting them go.

I stand in the line of fire without a fear. I don’t shake. I don’t tremble. I don’t blink.

Stand tall, without fear, without hate. Maybe next time I’ll do …

One less soul makes the earth a little bit lighter, right?

Spencer felt his eyes burn, the tears rolled down his cheeks.

No.

No.

[nessinborderland]

Heyyyyy its 💜A Anon ✨ Its 1 am at the Moment and im depressed and do have a university lecture in about 6 hours.. I’d like to request some: fluffy comforting hatter after they nearly didnt made it out of a game. Thank youuu ✨I’m trying to sleep now 🙈 ~ 💜A

Pairing: Hatter x Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 804

Summary: He's always there for you. Always there to comfort you.

Warnings: fingering

Notes: Here it is, love! Sorry for being late. Hope you enjoy it tho, it was really nice to write 🤧💕 

You almost didn’t make it.

You were so close to dying. You can still feel the hot breath of the rabid dogs that had run after you, so close to shredding you to pieces. It was only luck that allowed you to get out alive. Luck, and the people that died horrible deaths right behind you.

You let out another sob, pressing yourself further against Hatter's chest. He keeps moving his hand up and down your back, lips pressed to your temple.

"It's okay, Y/N,” he whispers. "You're okay."

"But–"

"You're safe and sound and that's what matters, love." You look up at him before hugging him tighter. He was waiting for you when you arrived from the game, crying and on the brink of a panic attack. He had taken you to your shared room immediately, letting you sob on his chest until you were barely conscious from all the crying.

Some days are easier than others, and the stress of being in Borderland finally got to you. You have a chance of dying every week, and this game made that possibility way too real. You don’t want to die like that; you don’t want to leave him.

“I–I was so scared that–” you say in between sobbing spasms, “I was so scared that I would never see you again.” He kisses the top of your head, arms hugging you tightly.

“Don’t think about it anymore,” he gently wipes the tears off your face, “How about I prepare you a nice hot bath?” You nod, letting him stand up. You follow him to the bathroom, watching him as he fills the large bathtub in a corner. He’s always so good to you. You hate that you only got to meet in the Borderlands; you would love to spend the rest of your life with him in the real world.

He helps you strip out of your dirty clothes before helping you get in the bath. You sigh as the hot water involves your tired body. You needed this. But something is missing.

“Bathe with me?” you ask as Hatter moves to turn around. He smiles before stripping and joining you, sitting behind you in the large tub. You relax against him, your back against his chest. His arms go around you, pulling you closer. He makes you feel so safe.

You both say nothing as he starts washing your hair, firm but gentle hands massaging your scalp. It feels so nice that you almost doze off, comforted by his hands on you. He finishes washing your hair to wash your body, hand rubbing the sponge all over your skin. He makes you feel so good.

His hand brushes against your core, and you can’t help but gasp. You grab his wrist in an impulse, stopping him. You don’t say anything as you take the sponge off his hand and direct his fingers to your core.

You moan when his fingertips press on your clit, making you open your legs wider for better access. You feel him kiss your shoulder before his fingers start sliding up and down your slit. You grab the sides of the tub in a moan as one long finger penetrates. It’s soon followed by another, pumping in and out of you as his palm rubs your clit with just the right pressure.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers against your ear before kissing your neck, “The most beautiful thing in this damn country.” his fingertips brush against your g-spot, making you cry out in pleasure. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

Your moans get louder as you feel your orgasm approaching, your hips moving in time with his fingers. His other hand is massaging your breast, squeezing and kneading it like he knows you like it. He knows your body so well. His lips and teeth make a mess on your neck, occasionally whispering things that make you clench around his fingers. No man ever made you feel like he does.

You come around his fingers with a small scream that he muffles with a kiss. He keeps fingerfucking you slowly, making you whine in overstimulation. You moan when he finally takes his fingers out of you, panting as you try to regain your breath.

He whispers sweet things in your ear as he finishes washing you; “So beautiful.” he says, “Such a good girl.” It makes you smile; you almost forget why you were crying just half an hour ago. He helps you out of the bath, drying you with a fluffy towel before taking you bridal-style back to bed.

You sigh as he gently lays you down on the bed, kissing you before promising to bring you the best food he can find. You kiss him back and nod, heavy lids closing slowly.

He makes you feel so loved.

[weebsinstash]

Lol sorry for the unsolicited advice but have you thought about learning to program? You'd probably only have to do a year or two of study and then you'd be well set up to get a job that pays more and has better working conditions. Just a thought :)

Yeah, I've thought about learning coding or something since those jobs are always hiring! I dont know if I would be competent at it though since I dunno, im shitty at math and sometimes my memory can be kind of poor

Though I'm going to be honest and say that for many years I have only planned on living for a temporary amount of time and I've been thinking that way since like uhhhhhhh early elementary school and. I still feel that way all these years later. so. sometimes it's like 'why are you worrying about a career? You're gonna die, bitch!"

It's kind of a comfort, really. It's hard to explain. It's easier for me to think "when things get hard i can just kill myself and be done with it forever" rather than worry about what I'm gonna do in the future, do for food, do for work. Everything is broken anyways. I was on disability and they took it away during Covid because "oh you have a job and you're working now so we feel like you've improved!" even though I would wake up sobbing about not wanting to go to work and contemplating suicide every other week and I only went because I literally had to. You have to fight to prove how sick you are so they'll reluctantly help you and the second they decide you don't deserve that help anymore, they're happy to take it away

I dunno. Maybe I'm just in a funk and I'm all gloom and doom because I'm an addict and I'm out of weed and I've been drinking. I constantly sway back and forth between "well I'm going to die anyways" to "well I guess I'll just keep on keeping on" but it's been a very very long time since I have actually wanted to be alive so. It's kind of hard to know what to do with that. My therapist doesn't really know anymore, and I don't think my new medicine is making a difference and I kind of just stopped taking it anyways

I dunno, I'm sorry to turn this into something majorly depressing. That's just how it is. We're born to work and pay bills and pay taxes and then we die. We fight like hell to try and elect people we think may make our country and our lives better and someone is always taking bribes and handouts and it's all about money. Why save the planet when Big Motor needs us to keep buying cars and oil and our entire society is built on constantly throwing away plastic and we spent a trillion dollars terrorizing the middle east and it turns out the afghan military was literally just sitting back and doing heroin while American soldiers killed thousands of civilians and the whole war was really just an excuse to feed money to the military industrial complex by buying their surplus of weapons which are now in the hands of the actual fucking taliban and even an American Supreme Court recently ruled that hey Nestlé you aren't even liable for using slave labor for your chocolate because the slavery isn't in the US and that's ok!

And it may seem like I'm just rattling off a bunch of random bullshit and I kind of am but. It's all broken. Our planet is dying. Our society is collapsing. Homelessness and poverty is increasing. Coronavirus was basically used as eugenics to kill off loads of poor and disadvantaged people and while the capitalists scoop up the ruins of the empty real estate that used to be a mom and pop store to turn them into Walmarts and Home Depots we just get told "if you're struggling, it's something YOURE doing wrong!"

I just don't want to be here anymore quite frankly. I'm just gonna sink back into my escapism and try and forget where I have my vicodin and muscle relaxants hidden

[burnedbyshoto]

Can I request a self conscious chubby Shouto? Reader gives him kisses on his tummy and reassures him about his weight?

tw: shouto has poor body image, fluff, angsty

shouto had been hospitalized for five months.

after what was most definitely the most horrific villain attack seen on live tv against only one hero, the doctors never shut up about how he was lucky to have won, how lucky he was to be alive. it was far after the days that recovery girl had passed, and with no healing quirk having matched her ability it had been a long five months in hospice care.

he had spent one month in a coma and the next four just healing. it had been a hard four months, his body almost refusing to move, black and yellow bruises covered his body still, and the diet... the diet they had him on was one that was supposed to help him gain weight. it was to help with his healing and aid with the muscle gain he was going to need in order to be where he once was - he understood that and he appreciated the doctors doing what was best for him but he didn’t understand how he went from his strong, toned, and lithe form to one with flappy arms, pooling thighs, and a tummy so large he couldn’t see his toes without leaning forward. he never thought he would hate that he couldn’t see his jawline anymore, that he could hate that he couldn’t sit up without feeling his stomach, hate that he was so hungry all the time. he hated that he was so... he was so—

“welcome home!” you cheered merrily, guiding shouto back into the house that had been without his presence for almost half a year.

he tried to focus on you and only you, your mindless babble about how you had learned how to make cold soba noodles for him while he was in the hospital (although you made sure to insist that they weren’t that good so to not get his hopes up, but shouto was tittering on being excited and nauseous at the thought of having endless cold soba), how you had temporarily moved the master bedroom into the closest room to the front door and kitchen just in case he wasn’t ready to move that much, how you had accidentally broken the sliding door but had his brother come and fix it for you, and of course just how happy and grateful you were that he was out. shouto tried to stay engaged but he could feel the eyes scorching on his back, the nosy neighbors and paparazzi who wanted the first pictures of him since his release.

he hated this, he hated his body right now, and their judgmental gaze burned him from the inside out. for over twenty years of his life he had never been without muscle on his body and now... now he was... he was—

“watch your step, you’re been limping again, I don’t want you to trip,” came your gentle voice, your foot planted on the stair and the other on the floor as if to support him in case he fell. like you could keep him upwards if he did, he bitterly thought.

regardless, shouto gave you a gracious half smile and carried through, stepping up to the stair and flinching when he felt that skin he was still starkly unfamiliar with move. but the moment the front door closed behind the both of you, shouto felt empty.

the rest of the day was filled with shouto adjusting to the house once more. adjusting to the way the floors creaked under his feet, of how you always waited for him to enter through the doorways instead of attempting to go through them with him, of how you lingered behind him with conscious eyes and nervous fingers. he knew you were worried, it was as obvious as the sun during a summer heat wave, but it offered him no comfort... it only made him feel worse, made him graze his fingers against his... his...

“why don’t you take a shower?” you suggest, your hands grabbing the dishes on the table. you had made soup, he was still to be on a mostly liquid diet until next week. “I bet this has been exhausting, and if you shower then I can shower and we can sleep early tonight!”

shouto strained a smile again, his tongue still failing to speak. he hasn’t spoken a word in weeks, but you never seemed to grow angry at his lack of words thankfully. his eyes fluttered close when you leaned across the table and pressed a kiss to his cheek, his body shivering both at the familiar contact that he loved and the aching pain that continued to be suppressed.

showering nearly killed him.

feeling the way that his body now worked within the confines of the small room made his head spin. he hated that he couldn’t merely twist his body anymore, he had to completely turn around. he hated that he had to use more body wash, his hands shaking when he maneuvered around the fat that had built on his stomach, the stretched skin that fell on his thighs and arms.

stretch marks... as if the scar on his face wasn’t enough.

with a shaky sigh, he turned off the water and exited the shower.

he wasn’t feeling too bad with the warm water soaking into his skin, but he made the mistake of looking into the mirror as he made his way back to the room.

a mistake.

a mistake.

a mistake.

his eyes bore into his figure, was this really him? he could barely recognize himself. this... this had to be a mistake, there was no way this was him. his hands pressed to his side, hoping that this was all a figment of his imagination, just some twisted depression that was keeping him bound to the worst of this all.

but his hands fell on his body right where he had hoped they wouldn’t, and something snapped within him.

CRASH!

shouto didn’t even realize that he was panting like some rabid animal, his body trembling with extreme force, and the room covered with ice and burn marks. he collapsed forward, suddenly feeling weak, and with every ragged breath tears pricked at the back of his eyes, threatening to fall out but wouldn’t.

he was...

he was f--

��shouto? are you okay in there?”

he couldn’t even bother turning his head to look over at the opening door, but had he, he would’ve seen the way that your head peeked in, your eyes focused with concern, sympathy, and love. he focused on his hands, the white of his gripping knuckles, and the bulge of his veins.

“I-I’m okay,” he finally spoke, his head remaining low, horrid thoughts plaguing his head as the cold hallway air drafted into the room sending shivers down his spine - not that he reacted to it.

“that’s a lie if I ever heard one,” you sigh, not even trying to give him the satisfaction of believing his lie. but again, that was a quality he loved about you. “I won’t press because i’m sure this has been an overwhelming day for you, but... i’m here for you, shouto, you know?”

it was then that your hand pressed against his spine, and shouto felt his soul leave his body.

he didn’t want you touching him like this, he thought, storming away, trying to avoid your worried look as he pushed past you.

no not like this, his eyes clenched and his fists trembled at his side.

he was ugly, he gasped for air as he entered the room, his vision swimming.

he was... he was--!

“please don’t cry... please don’t cry without telling me why you’re upset!” your voice begged and shouto hated how distraught you sounded. “are you in pain?”

“no. well, not really.”

“is this happening too fast? were you discharged too soon?”

“no... i’m fine.”

it’s....

“was it the food? I know i’m still learning, but I didn’t think the food was that bad!”

“n-no, not that...”

it’s because...

“then what’s going on, sho?”

“it’s because i’m fat!” shouto finally spat, his body shaking with exploding emotion, steam spilling from his body as if he was fighting some evil villain.

his face was set in stone, a look of pure emotionlessness as long as you didn’t look into his eyes. as long as you didn’t know that sad glint in his eyes meant that he was emotionally beyond repair right now. he saw your mouth drop, most likely to ease any ‘untrue’ thoughts that danced on his mind. he didn’t want to hear it.

“I am, y/n, i’m fat. my clothes don’t fit and I have to wear these... throw away clothes! the doctors said im almost twice my usual weight. I-I have fat in places I didn’t even know existed, my stomach is so fucking huge i’m surprised kaminari hasn’t sent me some pregnant meme by now, and it took all my energy to just shower today. i’m fat!” shouto heaved, his forehead covered in cold sweat while glaring at the wall to the left of your head. he couldn’t look at you right now, not after that outburst.

the silence lingered thickly in the air, corroding the muscles in his throat, making his heart flutter in anxiety driven pulses while you shifted from foot to foot, your teeth gnawing at your lower lip. he wanted to apologize to you, for what he didn’t know but he felt bad. his actions were halted by you sharp inhale, and that kind strong smile that fell on your face.

“...well, im not going to fight you on that, but i’m glad you spoke your mind,” you said softly, your hands moving to grip each other while you tried to save face in front of him. it was obvious that you hadn’t even thought that which made shouto feel even guiltier. “I’m going to shower, so please get ready for bed, yeah? we’ll talk more once we’re in bed and relaxed a bit!”

shouto’s nostrils flared, his heart squeezing at the fact that you still showed him such kind and soft love, and so he nodded his head in agreement.

“I won’t take long,” you promised about your shower, and shouto smiled even if a bit emotionlessly before your lips pressed softly against his. “be right back, get ready.”

he wasn’t sure how long it took him to get ready and for you to join him in bed, but his eyes were opened and he was staring off at your side of the bed as you climbed into bed. the gentle, warm, and cool scent of your hair wash and body wash drafted into his nose, a very welcoming smell after months of knowing only the sterile smell of bleached walls and floors.

“you ready to talk?” you asked him, and shouto blinked once, twice, his sight refocusing on your shining eyes and furrowed brow. he knew immediately that you had a lot to speak on, most likely creating some sort of script to follow.

“no,” shouto couldn’t help but say, his own worries forgotten for a moment when the natural need to tease you infiltrated his veins. “but i’m ready to hear you talk.”

your lips pursed, twitching in a way that made it obvious to him at least that you were resisting the urge to verbally attack him. 

“five months ago, I thought I was going to lose you.” you began, your eyes uncharacteristically dropping from his own gaze and trailing down his body, as if in disbelief that he was even here. your hands moved to his chest, pressing softly onto the skin that he was hateful towards. “when I got the news that you had been hospitalized, and that you had gone into a coma... I wasn’t sure what to think. but you woke up before I knew it and then four months went by after you woke up, and i’ve been so... grateful that you survived that I hadn’t even bothered to think about how you must be feeling about this entire thing. I know this is a lot of change, its a lot of change, and I don’t know how to really help, but this is what I think.”

shouto felt his breathing nearly stop as your fingers trailed down the fat on his arms, his chest and his stomach. your eyes almost shyly met his and you pressed a kiss to his lips, unwilling to allow him to think for a second that this was just some staged thing. 

“your weight doesn’t define you. your weight doesn’t make you less desirable. does your weight make you fat? sure, it completely does, but there’s nothing wrong with being fat. fat is not ugly, fat is not weak, fat is not less. bodies need fat, its basic biology. without fat we can’t exist, we can’t do anything, and sure right now you have more than you’ve ever had - but it’s okay, you’re still healthy and that is what matters. i mean look at fat gum! sure, he needs to be fat in order for his quirk to work, but nevertheless, he’s fat and he’s a pro hero. he’s healthy and still he’s fat. if you would rather be skinny than fat, that’s okay, you can choose what you want to be, as long as it’s done with good intentions. at the end of the day you’re still my shouto, you’re the man I know and love because fat determines none of that. I love the fat on your body as much as I loved the abs because either way it’s you.”

the words rang heavy in his ears, all thoughts and reasons he had seemingly disappeared the moment the last word was said. and tears fell from his eyes when you kissed every spot on his body that he had once been dreadfully insecure about. every kiss to his stomach sent butterflies through every cell, every soft breath spreading chills until he was gasping for breath - until you were finally back to his face and pressing kisses to his face until he wrapped you closer.

“I love you in any form you take.”

~

a/n: it may not be my place to share this with you, but while writing this it actually reminded me of a ted talk I had seen once. I think its a very good talk, and dismantles a lot of mainstream thoughts about self love which I at least thought was important. if you were able to make it to the bottom of this, I suggest checking it out because as this video re-taught me, fat is not a synonym for ugly, and we should stop believing that it is.

[alijaymtz]

Its been years since ive been here, it seems like this is the only place where i feel irrelevant and disconected from the real world. 

A lot has changed since I last wrote how I felt. 

I moved, began college, and live with my father. 

Ive said it before but there is no person I hate more than that man, he does things and then forgets the damage he caused but instead he knows how to guilt trip others. 

Im currently studying psychology, and through the study of it ive been able to categorize my father with borderline personality disorder. I doubt he’ll ever know nor will i ever tell him. 

I’ve learned to mask myself, my depression, my anger, my personality, when im home with him. Everything disapoints him. There are times that he forgets telling me to tell something to other people and then I am left in a negative place. “But you told me to tell them” ...”I never said that, IN MY LIFE IVE NEVER SAID THAT” ...

Its been two days since ive told him im styuduing to become a psychologist, today, while driving home from the gym, he asks me if I have some type of mental disorder in a joking way. I tell him “yeah, I am bipolar.” but according to several tests we’ve been reviewing in class. “yeah that makes sense” he says “I noticed since you left me when you were young”. 

When I was a child my father used to abuse my mother, hes done several crazy and traumatizing things, he broke her ribs, punched her, kicked her on the ground, for small things like burnt food or her complaining he returned home at 2 am. Back then my mother, who I think was brave, decided it was no longer safe to live with my dad because he began beating my older brother just as much as he beat my mom. 

She picked a bag, dumped in mostly my clothing and my brothers, and we headed straight to the police. Unfortunetly, they were unable to help us. So we went to the embasy, and they sent us to a shelter for women. Over the next few years I lived in shelter homes, foster homes, but safe. At one point I lived without my brother and mother but was happy, and safe. 

My mother was sent by court to return to Mexico, so we packed up and came with her. My dad staying behind “as the bread winner” or whatever. We lived in a small one bedroom with no beds or other furniture but we were happy... Untill my dad came. For a while he seemed content, unbothered, but a few months later he returned to his demonic state. 

He would not only hit my mother to the pulp, my brother, now he did it to me too. He began to fear we were becoming Mexican and began to teach us the muslim way. Through the dicipline in his feet, he’d kick us untill out noses bleed then a few minutes later kiss our cheeks and talk to us kindly about our mistakes. As a child, my mother spoke spanish, my father english. Now i was introduced Urdu, Arabic, and was expected to learn whole texts and prayers in minutes.

It was always like that, yell, hit, kissing cheeks. Sometimes he would break things in between. 

When i turned 17, my father had left for the first time in years to his homeland in Pakistan. He was gone for 3 months and during that time my brother, mother, and I sat almost every night planning how we could disapear because no matter what we did or how we did it, he’d always find us. 

My mother had gotten surgery while my dad was away, we spent a long time with her in the hospital. We had days were we wouldnt eat, sleep, or do anything other than sit. But we were happy.

One time, before he left,  He cut my mother with a knife ,In my room while I saw him stab her. I didnt want that to ever happen again. Another time, my father was mad my mom brought up him bringing a nehibor lady into the house while we were in school and she was working, but somehow he flipped it into “Jelousy” because there is no other reason why a wife would say something about it...He was so mad he beat my mother after her chemo. For weeks she couldnt move, she was in my room with the lights off and bearly eating because he wouldnt let us take her any food. But we could hear her moan in pain. Another time, he beat my brother into the street, the whole neiborhood came out to see. He dragged my brother into the stone floors and picked up a rock about my brothers head size. I swore I saw him die. I was pulled into a house by a lady and her daughters tried to calm me down as I couldnt breath. I prayed he was alive. 

A few hours passed and my father was looking for me, he knocked on every door. I sneaked out and returned home. 

So, the point to this is the following. When my dad returned from Pakistan, i closed the doors and made no sound. He couldnt come in. He would just leave after a while. He knew we were inside. I felt my breath becoming loud. He could hear. He left. 

For the next few days he would come and talk to my mom, who said “the kids don’t want you in” followed my “I brought gifts”. My mother who was still walking with a cane, felt pitty for her husband, who had been sleeping in a motel for days. So, she let him in “for a few hours”. Feeling the room shrink i sent a help messege to a cousin of mine whom told her mom. In a matter of minutes a car popped infront of the house with three aunts and one cousin, they demanded I go with them. 

Without looking at my brother, I saved myself. For two months I lived with my aunt and her 4 kids. I cleaned and she would tip me in order to help me pay for psychiatic help (she also paid it).  One day my mom showed up and told me she would do anything for me to return, i never asked how bad things were in those two months for them. I made a list asking her to go to therapy with me, for him to not look at me or say a word. I went back. He was calm a whole year, not one word was said to me. I didnt leave my room and I swear my skin went from olive to pale yellow skin for the time I spent in there. 

So today, he said “I noticed since you left me when you were young”...”Because a normal person wouldnt do that”. 

[lollytea]

Fearless (part 1/3)

(Ty/Louie fairytale au fic. i am simply a bitch writing about my au and my oc so it is all very catered to me personally and im aware not a lot of ppl will read it. but if you DO read it, i love u so much. i guess tw for blood/serious injuries relating to teen characters. nothing too graphic but be warned. Also if you’re curious, info on the au here, here and here.)

_________________________

[OCTOBER 22ND, 6:19PM] The sky was bleeding pink and orange and Louie tried to focus on it. Didn't take much brainpower to appreciate a sunset. He clung to the sight with desperation, muttering the simplest thoughts under his breath like a mantra.

It was pretty. He liked sunsets. He liked pink. He liked orange. The distraction wasn't working. The unpleasantness that was already writhing in his stomach churned. His finger was on his temple, idly tracing delicate circles against the tightly wrapped bandage. His head hurt. The point where his shoulder met his upper arm was also dressed. The stitching still had to heal up. That hurt too. Louie was pretty stupid. Which was not something he usually thought. But it was a real kick in the confidence when someone sharp-witted did something stupid. And it was a real kick in the heart when someone who didn't wanna hurt anybody ended up hurting somebody. This was stupid. He had already tried reading as a means of distraction. Too hard. Too many words. Way too much of a strain on his mild concussion. This was so, so stupid. Sitting by his windowsill, he hoped this dumb bandage would be gone soon. His forehead felt sticky and damp with sweat. He was stupid. He wished Webby were here. If she were, she'd be in the courtyard below his window sparring with Dewey. At least then, Louie could watch and keep his mind occupied. No. No, that wasn't right. If Webby were here, she would've attached herself to Louie by now, hugging him tight until his injury healed. If it had been any other incident, Louie would let her, crumbling into her arms and whimpering about the pain as his amazing, magical sister made it all ebb away. But this wasn't any other incident. If Webby were here, he wouldn't be able to accept her hugs. The very idea rubbed him the wrong way. If anyone was entitled to healing hugs, it wasn't Louie, it was--.... His face twisted up. Webby wasn't here. She was off on some quest with Lena. Probably wouldn't be back for days. So there was no point in dwelling over hypotheticals. Louie would heal on his own. They were both gonna have to heal on their own. The sunset was fading.

It was pretty. Pink... Orange.... He couldn't do this. 

Why was he doing this?! Louie always knew himself to be a coward but this was to a pathetic extent. Depraved even. He felt sick. 

He couldn't. He just couldn't. Every additional second he spent hiding in his room was weighing him down. It was suffocating. But he couldn't leave. He was too scared.

Freezing up just like always. Just stop being so fucking scared! He would have to confront what he did eventually. There was no way around it. So, why couldn't he just go now? Louie had far worse things in his life to be dreading. Far worse. A ticking clock of trepidation was seated deep inside him. A predestined future he couldn't rewrite which, on all accounts, should render him paralyzed. But he wasn't. This was the sort of thing to demolish him. Apparently. Stupid. This shouldn't be overdriving his other senses. This shouldn't be flooding his mind. He shouldn't be drowning right now. This shouldn't have his hands shaking. This shouldn't have him pacing the length of his room. This shouldn't be stealing the oxygen from his lungs. His brain was pounding against his skull, protesting his rapid back-and-forth movement. He was dizzy. He shouldn't be crying. Fuck it! He was always crying, who cares about that?! Just stop panicking, just stop crying, just stop being so selfish for once and just own up. Louie's back crashed against his door, gasping for breath. Stars were blotting his vision and he couldn't breathe and it was the end of the world. Okay. Okay. He was spiraling again. That was all it was, it would be okay. It would be okay. The prince's bed chambers, alive with the choking sound of contained distress, subsided to complete silence for just a moment. Inhale. Exhale. And then all to be heard was a small, crackling voice straining to sing himself a quiet little lullaby. ___________ [OCTOBER 22ND, 10:07AM] "Your highness, don't be an idiot. You can't just---Hey! Wait up!" "H'oh boy..." Louie's eyes flicked to the high heavens. Right now he felt like he was tasked with personally escorting this goddamn boy across this goddamn forest by the goddamn ankles. He whirled around impatiently, crossing his arms with a flourish. "Pick up the pace, Tiberius. We don't have all day." "Can you maybe not be a huge pain for like... I dunno, five minutes?" Snapped Ty, his dearly devoted retainer and most notorious pain-in-the-tail. "Can you maybe loosen up? Y'know it's a real mood killer when there's a paranoid guy on my case all the time, insisting that the whole world is out to get me. Being constantly reminded of my fragile mortality? Woo, talk about fun times." Scowling, Ty stumbled his way over a protruding tree root. "You've got a bad habit of attracting danger, you know that, right? I'm pretty sure it's a Duck thing." The remark slapped the annoyed expression right off Louie's face. Ty quirked an eyebrow. "What's that look for?" Before he could further analyse, Louie sharply turned on his heel and strode on. "It's a Duck thing." He said, keeping his tone even. Both of them knew it was a Duck thing. Ty just didn't know the half of it. "Your highness," He heard Ty gripe. "You know this is a bad idea. A prince shouldn't be out in the open like this without proper protection. And I'm unprepared right now. I can't--" If Ty weren't yakking so much, Louie wouldn't know if he was still there. He wasn't wearing his armor for once so the familiar clank and clatter of metal was nonexistent. "You got your sword, right? You can do a lot of damage with that thing." "Yeah but no juice. And I need juice. See, 'cause what if we get in a tight spot and you--?" "What do you think is gonna happen, Ty?! For the love of all that is gold, It's just a party." "It's never just anything." He grumbled. Ty jogged ahead a little, matching his pace to Louie's. His footsteps alongside him were purposefully heavy So, he was stomping now. Real mature. Louie rolled his eyes. He was fully aware Ty was pissed, he didn't have to go above and beyond to make his anger known. "You really think I'm an idiot who doesn't take safety precautions? I'll have you know keeping Prince Louie alive isn't just your problem. Prince Louie is pretty serious about that too." He gestured to himself. "If you haven't noticed, I'm incognito today. I've got no crown, no mantle, no status whatsoever. And look at these ugly peasant threads," Louie pointed out, tugging at the hem of his dull green tunic. "It's actually kinda depressing how drab I look. I'm never gonna do this again actually. But! See how committed I am right now? Who's gonna recognize me? As we're all aware, I'm pretty well known for my pizzazz." "Just 'cause you stop being a prince doesn't mean danger stops existing." "No but it makes you way less of a target. Now, are you really gonna spend your whole day off bitching at me?" 

The glare Ty shot him was petulant at best. "Well, I didn't wanna. But I got dragged along on this little adventure so guess I gotta." Louie pursed his beak, irritated. He did not drag Ty along anywhere. 

"Come to think of it, I don't remember saying you had to follow me." Well, that came out as harsher than intended. Ty didn't seem hurt. At least, there was no sign that he was. No expression cracked his stone mask. "I've got a duty." Louie scoffed. Ty and his stupid duty. It was really starting to wear on his nerves. But not today, absolutely not today. On this fine, glorious day, Louie was intent on having fun. He would show up at this little forest shindig and he would drink and dance and schmooze and whatever else any carefree person at a party would do. He would forget about everything that was eating at him. He wasn't gonna let it consume him, he wasn't. He was gonna live. While he still could. His sixteenth birthday loomed closer. Six months left. "Sorry." Said Ty, unprompted. The shadows festering in Louie's head cleared out as he snapped back to the present. Ty had his eyes firmly downcast, a noticeable slump to his posture. "It's not like I wanna be running around killing the fun all the time. I really don't. But I gotta." Louie said nothing. His eyebrows rose in quiet astonishment as he studied Ty's side profile. He remembered when Ty first came into his life. Twelve years old, brandishing a sword too big for his body and grinning lopsidedly in an unmistakably trouble seeking sorta way. A real firecracker of a boy, loud and bright. Hungry for adventure and excited to throw himself head first into the action. He remembered one of Ty's earliest and most confident statements. When he lowered himself to bow to Louie in his uncle's throne room and declared that the prince would never fear for his life again. Because Ty would protect him and Ty was fearless. Louie believed him. Make no mistake, Ty had plenty of bite back then too. He had disliked Louie and the feeling had been mutual. But he never doubted that Ty had spoken the truth with his entire heart. Ty was fearless. When Louie was with Ty, he was safe. He believed that and he always had. Despite how they clicked as well as a dagger and a keyhole. Despite Ty being annoying. So annoying. He was still annoying. But it was different now. Louie couldn't pinpoint when that permanent glowing smile of his had dwindled and a thin frown had become Ty's default expression. His sword, something he always used to proudly haul around over his shoulder, now unceremoniously sheathed against his belt. Although Louie had noticed that his right hand never strayed too far from the hilt.   Protecting royalty with your entire being was an all-consuming duty and it seemed, at some point, the reality of such an allegiance had slapped Ty across the face. He had this distinct way of holding himself now. Always stood straight and rigid, coiled up with agitation. He was prepared to fight at a moment's notice but it was clear the thrill of doing so had been long since drained out of him. He still smiled. He still laughed. But only sometimes. Ty was annoying because he was paranoid. Because he was snarky. Because he was too stiff, too protective. And man, what Louie wouldn't give to have Ty's former brand of annoying back. At least never made him feel sorry for the guy. "Can I ask you a favor?" Louie finally spoke, pushing back a drooping tree branch so they could walk below it "You can try." Ty shrugged, his gaze still fixed ahead. "What if we just turn off this whole 'Prince and Retainer' thing today. Whadd'ya think?" He turned to him blankly, complete with a slight tilt of the head that made Louie a tiny bit weak. "Wha....?" Ty was simply not computing. He looked as though Louie was throwing out algebra equations and he was supposed to solve them right on the spot. And he was not a math guy by any means. The cute clueless expression was making it a little hard to focus. Louie swallowed. "Listen." He began, his thumb dragging itself across his sweaty palm as he struggled with how to phrase this. Louie had a way with words, always had. But he had a tendency to trip over his own tongue when Ty was involved. Especially when Ty was staring at him with his soft cande-light eyes and doing that stupid adorable head tilting thing and-- "You need a break." Louie blurted out. "You're stressed like constantly and it's getting kinda insufferable and I think your Dad would sick a dragon on me if his barely fifteen year old son suddenly kicked it 'cause of a paranoia overload so I think you should just forget about being my big strong hero for today and come hang out with me at this stupid peasant party and we can just be two regular kids instead of a royal and his bodyguard do you think you could give me that Tiberius?" It was only in the following beat of silence that Louie realized how fast he spat that all out. He struggled to catch his breath. One second. Ty blinked. Two seconds. A flicker of vacant eyes and then a rush of realization. And then disbelief. And then-- Three seconds. His brow scrunched together and a snarl crinkled his muzzle. His eyes flared. Oh, he was mad.... "Are you crazy?!" Ty shouted. He was beside himself with a malfunctioning mix of fury and incredulity that had him stammering his words. "You-You can't just--.....D-do you even-- you don't...do you realize how disrespectful that is? For you to say it? For-For me to do it?! I was given this duty by the King! The fucking King! To just suddenly "turn it off" would be--....I can't--!" Maybe "mad" was an understatement. "Ty--" Louie tried. He was cutting across Louie, treading back and forth on their forest path,. Not going further, not going back. Just walking to nowhere for the sake of being too scandalized to possibly stand still. Louie was attempting to get Ty's attention by grabbing his tunic but he kept shaking him off. "I'd be a disgrace! An embarrassment! I'm trusted by the royal family to keep--...to keep you safe! I-I can't just walk around with my liege like I'm on vacation and not be on guard! You don't even get it, you--" "Ty!" Louie said loudly."You wanna maybe listen for a sec?!" Frankly, he was surprised Ty halted his tirade. His eyes were blown wide, stunned and Louie wasn't quite sure why until he followed Ty's look, snapping down. Seems in his effort to get a hold of the guy, he had instinctively reached out and snatched Ty's wrist. They stood frozen for a moment, each set of eyes boring into the touch that tied them together. Louie's fingers began to uncurl. Then he decided no. His grip on Ty tightened with a purposeful squeeze. Ty met his gaze, looking....panicked? Confused? Didn't matter. He could besottedly dissect his unreadable facial expressions later. Louie inhaled, deciding to shoulder his dignity for just a second. No safety rails of snark this time. Ty might make fun of him for being sincere later but this was important. "Don't you miss being a kid with nothing to worry about?" Louie implored. "Because if we're being real, I don't think we're ever gonna get to live like that again." Ty muttered something to himself, shaking his head a little. "But listen," Louie continued, taking a step into Ty's personal bubble. Ty took an automatic step back. But since he was still holding his hand, Louie was led a step forward. It was difficult to tell with the pink fur but he could've sworn Ty reddened. "Look I know it's weird for me to be asking but....can't we just take a risk today? It's just a party in the woods. Literally the least likely place to find any danger in the whole kingdom." "We shouldn't--" "Ty, please." Honestly, Louie was a little surprised at himself. He hadn't even planned for Ty to accompany him anyway. But in the heat of the moment, everything had shifted upside-down. Turns out there was something inside him willing to beg. Something that wanted more than anything, for Ty come along. He just wanted a simple memory of just killing time with Ty. Separated from the castle and everything that reminded him of his fate. He would like to smile without a hint of dread for once this year. So, he said just that. "I'm not just trying to make you come along 'cause I'm stuck with you. That's not it." He swallowed. "You're--....you're cool. You're fun. I wanna have you around. You know, when you're not so worked up and you're just being yourself, I like hanging out with you." He tugged Ty's hand a little. Further from his sword and closer to Louie. "I want you to come with me. And I want you to try having fun too." He may as well just tell the idiot he thought about him every time he saw a sunset. The hand he was grasping flexed its fingers. Ty abruptly broke eye contact and glanced to the side, his tongue poking out to pierce the tip of his jagged tooth. His indecisive face. "I just--.....I dunno...." He muttered. "If something happened to you--" "Nothing's gonna happen to me." Said Louie immediately. "I've got a good feeling about this. And c'mon Ty, that coming from a coward?" "You're not a coward." He said, barely a whisper. He was now staring at the ground. "I promise." "Huh?" Louie smiled tightly as Ty looked to him questionably. "I promise nothing is gonna happen. I'm gonna be fine. You're gonna be fine. Now, can you do me this favor and maybe, I dunno, trust me?" The look Ty gave him was a little sad, but it was soft. And then with only a tiny twitch, it shifted into something else entirely. It was trust. Blind trust. Maybe stupid trust. A minuscule pang of guilt jabbed at Louie. Of course he wanted Ty to trust him. He needed him to if there was any hope of achieving his goal here. But objectively, he really shouldn't. Louie was hiding way too much from him. It wasn't fair. Then Ty broke the world, shattered orbit and played around with reality itself by cracking a smile and Louie forgot every coherent thought he ever possessed. He would never put on record just how long he spent pre-preparing jokes, gunning to get the corner of Ty's lips to flick upwards. Made him seem kinda desperate. Which he was not. Ty had that oh, so stereotypical "cute boy" smile. It was crooked, cocky, it was utterly obnoxious. Louie hated it. And worst of all, it was like a little spell to kick Louie's heart into high speed. Sometimes it dazed and confused him like a blinding light flash. But other times, it was warm and if he stared long enough, he'd fall asleep. Louie loved Ty's smile. Every time he tried to convince himself he didn't, he ended up dwelling on it too much and the way his mouth would quirk up would play in his mind on a maddening loop and then it would be too much to handle and the truth that he loved it would always overpower him. So, whenever that happened (like right this second.) he gave up and admitted it. To himself, anyway. He loved Ty's smile. He loved Ty. ......Wait. That last part was new, hold up. Rewind. But he didn't get the chance because Ty was talking now. Still a little dazzled, Louie didn't catch what he said but he figured it was good since he was still smiling. And then that smile broke into a huge grin, his eyes flashed with trouble and his hands were on Louie's shoulders and-- "Race ya!" Ty cried. With a light push, Louie was stumbling backwards and Ty kicked off into a sprint. For a brief moment, Louie could only gaze after him, stupefied. Love, huh? Like the real deal? That was crazy. But then he snapped out of as he recalled the audacity of this bastard. "You just pushed your liege!" He shrieked, receiving a loud "WOO!" from Ty as a response. And then Louie was grinning. He was giddy. He didn't quite know if he forgot about love in that instance or if it was the force powering him but he was tearing off after Ty, yelling about the latter's totally unfair head start. In hindsight, he should've figured it was love a long time ago. Who else would get him to run for no reason?

[miistymemorii]

How compatible are Pedro Pascal character’s and I?

No one, and I mean NO ONE asked for this. But here we are :) 

warning: literal proof of how lonely i am ahead

Javier Pena

- I think he would find me very annoying

I can’t, like, sit still??? so I do the “jiggling of leg thing” 24/7 and I feel like he would hate that

- but i feel like all we’d do is have *seggs* so i guess points for that

- also i am very clingy and I don’t see him as the type to want to cuddle 

- i am literally so annoying in public because i don’t know how to act and i’m sure i’d annoying him like if we ever went in public

- i love criminology and jobs that deal with crime so i’d be a nosy bitch and ask him wayyyy to many questions about his job

- rating: 4/10

Maxwell Lord

- istg

- not to be a simp on main, but i would be Max’s biggest suporter, like full hype girl

- ^^ i mean, not during the events of 1984, because that was some bs, but like before, when he’s a struggling man who just wants to be a good father

- i hate wearing dresses with a burning passion, but i’d wear a dress like everyday if it made him happy

- yes i do the cooking, yes i do the cleaning

- i feel lie Max needs a woman in his life, or at least someone to give him guidance. I’m the gal for the job.

- i feel like he would cry sometimes like in the middle of the night and i’d be there to comfort him

- but also he’d comfort me when i have panic attacks or depressive episodes

- like i know this man is soft when he’s not doing his “life is good but it could be better” persona

- my dad would hate him tho 0-0 so a loss of points there

- rating: 7/10

Ezra

- cheese and sprinkles okay

- this man

- i feel like we’d be good together

- in most fics Ezra is headcanonned as being very interested in the arts, so i can see us like going to museums and reading to each other

- idk why i just wanna hold his hand

- i feel like he’d let me be the big spoon which makes my heart go boom boom

- he is so fine istg imma cry

- also i feel like my dad would like him and that’s kinda important to me bwahwajdsd

- rating: 8/10

Mando

- okay, to me there are basically 2 tiers of Mando: before Grogu, after Grogu

- if i met him before Grogu, he would hate me. 

- i would ask him loads of questions about the ship and eventually he’d be like “this isn’t gonna work” and drop me off on a planet then leave bwahwahah

- it’d be very “it’s not me, it’s you” :,)

- but if i met him during/ after Grogu

- *sighs*

- i feel like he’d be more willing to a relationship because he kinda learns that not every person is a threat

- i think he’d let me touch his face in the dark, even if he has shows his face to other people, because he’s still wary

- but when he finally lets me see his face in the light, i swear to god i would just spend hours staring at his face

- he’s baby there’s not alot more i can say

-my dad would adore him because irl he LOVES the Mandalorian and my dad loves cowboys and Mando is the best space cowboy in the galaxy

- 7/10

Frankie “catfish” Morales

- okay ya’ll

- i’ve only ever dated, like, assholes so It’d be so nice to date someone who is a nice person

- i KNOW he’s treat me right

- I feel like I would be super intimidated by him, because I get super intimidated by nice people (trust issues gang gang), so I wouldn’t be like my annoying self

- like he’d bring out the shy in me

- but also this man would never judge me and that makes me :)

- i’m not the most outdoorsy person, but i feel like i’d love going camping or hiking with him

- hell i’d let this man take me fishing (though he’d have to teach me because idk how to fish)

- also i feel like we’d do domestic things like go grocery shopping together, dance together in our livingroom, and cook diner together

- rating: 9/10

Pero Tovar

- this mf

- sorry, that was aggressive

- this man

- he would hate me

- like he would HATE me

- i can’t quite place it, it’s more of an instinct that i have? first of all, i would die at like, age 8 if i was alive during the time the movie takes place

- but like i think he’d be like “this bitch” everytime i walked into a room

- i am an annoying mf and he seems like he has 0 patience for idiocracy.

- i have literally nothing else to say bwahaha... it just wouldn’t happen

- rating: 0/10

Agent Whiskey

- okay, im from texas, but the city im from is small and all the boys here have  southern accents, but they’re all so fucking annoying so for a long time i’ve been turned off by those accents

- but dear god when i watched this film for the first time i was like AOOGA

- if i dated him, i would literally ask him questions or make him like read to me just to hear his voice

- is voice kink a thing 0-0 

- i wouldn’t ask him super personal questions about his job, but i’ve always wondered the kind of missions the Statesmen (and Kingsmen) go on, so i’d ask him about that

- i feel like my family would be charmed by him, so points for that

- i am a shitty dancer and i feel like he’d want to teach me to properly slow dance or do that southern dance? (dosie do? my family rejects southern culture because we hate living here lmao)

- he looks like he can cook which makes me :)))))) because i’m not a good cook

- i feel like he’s super adventurous in bed and tbh i am... inexperienced so i think that would be 0-0 awkward at first

- rating: 8/10

Oberyn Martell

- as much as i love this man, i have been in a poly relationship before and it was a living hell, so his lil orgies would make me 0-0 uncomfy 0-0

- i feel like he’s super poetic sometimes, like he likes art and literature

- tbh i skipped through the entirety of GoT and only watched Pedro’s episodes, so i know nothing about that world or time period lmao

- i’m a jealous bitch sometimes so i KNOW i’d be jealous of Ellaria

- omfg the way he LOOKS at people, I’d be a meek bitch

- my dad would hate this mf istg i cannot really describe it he just would i know it

- my dad just kinda hates all politicians/royalty/rich people teehee

- he’s definitely a good kisser tho 0-0 

- i feel like behind closed doors he’s surprisingly soft? like he would just ant to cuddle sometimes and talk about anything and everything

- he’s also a charmer so i feel like he’d try to convince me that i’m beautiful and just be overall kind to me when i’m feeling insecure

-rating: 6/10

Marcus Moreno

- bye ya’ll im deceased

- he was literally in the film for like 5 mins total and yet i have *fallen in love*

- pedro in glasses makes me positively feral grr bark bark

- dashklfhsdlfj PLEASE don’t come for me but like... i feel like he’d be super into making out like for prolonged periods of time

- ANWAYS he seems like the closest in personality to Pedro? So like goofy, soft, BIG hands (jk they all have big hands and they all make me :))))))))))))

- he’d be really good at dates and want to do kinda silly stuff? like carnivals, movies, ice cream shop, the park, etc :)

- i think he would find out that i have a big phat crush on Lavagirl and would let me meet her I would simple cease to exist

- i would be so nervous to meet Missy because even though i love kids, i’m so awkward around them

- he seems like the type to give kisses in places other than my lips. Like he’d love to kiss my hands, my forehead and my cheek

- my stepmom would ADORE him

- also i feel like Marcus’ taste in music is very close to Pedro’s, and Pedro has *immaculate* taste, so my Dad would get on with Marcus because my dad lves music

9/10

[hopelikethemoon]

Falling Apart (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: Falling Apart Rating: PG Length: 1600 Warnings: Angst (allusions to post-partum depression) Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Set in July 1997. Javier’s POV.  Summary: Javier grapples with the aftermath. 

@grapemama​ @seawhisperer​ @huliabitch​ @beccaplaying​ @beccaplaying​@thewallpapergoesorido​ @twomoonstwosuns​@gooddaykate​ @livasaurasrex​ @ham4arrow​@plexflexico @readsalot73​ @hdlynn​ @lokiaddicted​ @randomness501​ @fioccodineveautunnale​  @roxypeanut​ @snivellusim​ @lukesrighthand​ @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts​@ ​​​​​@awesomefandomsunited​​​​​​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @exrebelshocktrooper​@synystersilenceinblacknwhite​ @ah-callie​ @swhiskeys​ @exrebelshocktrooper​ @u-wakatoshii @space-floozy@cable-kenobi​ @cool-ultra-nerd @himbopoes​@findhimfives​@pedrosdoll​@frietiemeloen​@arrowswithwifi​ @random066​ @uncomicalhumour​ @heather-lynn @domino-oh-damn @cyarikaaa​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​ @im-still-a-pieceofgarbage @ksgeekgirl​@yabby-girl @xqueenofthecraziesx @punkass-potato @coredrive @pascalesque@theduchessofkirkcaldy @queenquazar​ @sabinemorans​ @buckstaposition​@holkaskrosnou​ @yespolkadotkitty​@seeking-a-great–perhaps @kochamcie​@jaime1110​@katlikeme​

“Coffee?” Javier questioned as he rose from the kitchen table with his own coffee cup. His brows knit together as she lifted her gaze to stare back at him with visible indifference written on her face. 

“Sure.” She pushed the coffee mug to the edge, before picking up the newspaper that had been sitting idle on the table and flipping through it.

He hesitated, words forming at his lips, but he didn’t have the balls to actually speak them. Instead, he snatched up the mug and headed for the coffee pot. 

It felt like he was living with a stranger. 

The woman sitting at his kitchen table looked like the woman he loved, but everything about her felt wrong. Sometimes he still saw her — that glimmer of mischief that was followed by cold feet finding his leg beneath the covers; that raw sense of humor that meshed with his and drove their friends crazy. 

But most days it felt like she’d been replaced with a pod person who wanted nothing to do with him. She was stand-offish at best and entirely disinterested at the worst. 

Maybe he had understood her correctly. Maybe she truly was done with him. 

Javier was well aware of the fact that he’d been overbearing during those last few months of her pregnancy, but he hadn’t anticipated that his worry would turn into this festering wound that wouldn’t heal. 

“I was thinking about taking Josie to the park,” He started gently as he sat the coffee cup down on the table in front of her. 

“Newborns aren’t exactly park-friendly.” She retorted, folding the newspaper in half and sitting it aside as she reached for her mug. “I’ll just stay home.”

Javier took a sip of coffee as he sat down across from her, “I don’t mind handling Sofía—“

“You don’t mind handling her?” She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I’m perfectly capable of watching her at home. Alone.”

He swallowed thickly, nodding his head as he glanced down at his half eaten breakfast. His stomach turned in response to the coarse tone she’d taken with him. “Right.”

Where had he gone wrong? Was it the guilt he felt that had done this relationship in? Wasn’t that what precipitated her confession that she didn’t want to do this. 

Whatever it meant. 

No, he knew what she meant. 

And fuck if it wasn’t tearing him up inside. 

The idea of having to rebuild his life without her scared the shit out of him. It had been bad enough when there had been a few hours where he thought he’d have to plan her funeral — but somehow the idea of existing in the same world with and without her didn’t seem right. 

Javier rubbed at his jaw as he stared down at his coffee cup, brows drawn together as he considered how to navigate this perilous situation he found himself in. “I would really like for you to come with us. And I’m sure Josie would like to have the two of you there.”

She chewed on her bottom lip as she glanced at him briefly, “Alright.” She offered a shrug, before rising to her feet. “I’m going to take a shower, then.”

She hadn’t even touched her coffee. 

He sighed heavily as he watched her walk out of the kitchen. His gaze lingered on the empty space she had occupied, before he leaned forward on his elbows and raked his fingers through his hair. 

Javier pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek as he stood up to clean the table off. 

He’d already called his father to try to talk through the situation — to try to figure out why this was happening. But even that hadn’t helped. It was like she was drifting away at sea and he was completely helpless and drowning too. 

Steve and Connie had come to visit a few days ago and she’d seemed almost normal. But he wondered how much of that was just for show — she was good at putting up these false walls of emotion, to mask how she really felt. 

It pissed him off that he had gone through four years of psychology classes two decades ago and it did fuck all now when it really counted. 

And she was too damn good at performing in front of friends and family, Javier doubted Steve would believe him if he brought up the way she’d been acting around him. 

“Josie,” Javier started as he walked down the hallway to her bedroom, pushing the door open. “Can you get ready to go to the park?”

“But I already am dressed, daddy!” She said as she looked up from the Hot Wheels track she was building. 

“You can’t wear pajamas to the park,” Javier chuckled as he watched her adjust the tiara she had on. “Do you need help?”

Josie pursed her lips thoughtfully before nodding her head, “I want to look like a princess, like mommy.”

Javier smiled a little, “Your mommy is a princess, isn't she princesa?” He said as he pulled open the dresser drawers to find her something to wear. She had a plethora of dresses with like shorts sewn into the skirts — which were perfect for the park. 

What would life look like if all of this fell apart? Would he get the girls part of the time? He hadn’t had to have these thoughts since Colombia — back when everything hung in the balance. 

His father had talked him off that ledge, the last time they’d talked. Chucho was convinced that they were both stressed after everything that happened. He’d been there too, after all. He’d seen it firsthand. 

But the thought of packing his life back into a joyless apartment was a sobering thought to consider. 

“Hey babe,” She popped her head into Josie’s bedroom, fresh out of the shower and toweling off her wet hair, “Did you use the sunblock last? I can’t find it.” 

Javier perched on the edge of Josie’s bed, “Should be in the kitchen in the junk drawer.” 

“Perfect.” She smiled, like nothing was wrong and it felt like a genuine display of emotion. “Next time we go to the store, remind me that I’m out of my apricot scrub.”

“Alright,” Javier nodded, turning his attention back to Josie who was wrestling her way out of her pajama top. “I’ll put it on the list.”

“Josie, are you wearing a crown?”

Josie turned towards her mother, beaming from ear-to-ear, “I wanted to be a princess racecar dry-beaver.”

“You wanted to be a beaver?” She snorted. “Are you trying to say ‘driver,’ babydoll?”

Josie nodded her head, “A race dri-ber.”

“Close enough,” She grinned, looking towards Javier then. “How about ice cream after the park?”

“Ice cream?” Josie gasped dramatically. 

“I can’t say no, now.” He smirked, his heart beating a little faster. “Whatever you want, baby.” Whatever it would take to make her feel normal again — Javier was willing to try it. He’d walk on Legos barefoot if it meant normalcy could return to their lives. 

Sofía started crying in her nursery and her mother’s face fell. 

“Do you want me to get her so you can get ready?” Javier offered cautiously. 

“No.” She blinked slowly as she looked down the hall, “I’ve got her. Just get Josie ready.” 

“Come on, JoJo. Let’s get you dressed.” Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth and held out her dress for her. 

He knew he had to be patient — she’d gone through hell too. Physically and mentally. They had both built up so many expectations for Sofia’s birth and in the end it had been a nightmare. 

Javier hated to even think about what life might’ve been like if they hadn’t kept trying. If they’d given up… but how could he think that way? Sofía was the grumpiest little angel — she was perfect. And if they hadn’t had her, they wouldn’t have Monica in their lives. 

Or Stevie. 

Or even the house they lived in. 

Even with the current situation, he wouldn’t give up the best parts of his life just because they had hit a rocky patch. A really rocky patch. 

And then there was the added pressure of knowing what she’d gone through in her own childhood. The pain, the trauma, the instinctual reactions that came with her upbringing. It was why she soldiered through everything without speaking up — she’d rather suffer in silence than feel like a burden. 

Was she suffering now and he was just blind to it? Outside of how it inconvenienced his life.  

“Daddy, why are you sad?” Josie questioned, standing in front of him pouting. “You’ve gots to smile.” She wagged a finger at him, before poking him between the eyes. “You’ve got them wormy lines!”

Javier couldn’t help but laugh, scooping Josie up and tickling her until she squealed for him to stop, her laughter an infectious sound that warmed his heart. 

This was his family and he wasn’t going to lose his partner. He’d weather whatever storm he had to weather, if it meant coming out the other side. The good already outweighed the bad, he just couldn’t let him get caught up in his own melancholy. 

His own guilt. 

That guilt still ate him alive at night. 

She’d wanted to have a second child to give him the experience he’d missed out on. Now he wished he’d missed out on this experience. 

He had wanted to experience the joy of fatherhood firsthand, but instead he got to suffer the nightly fears that the love of his life was slipping through his fingers. 

And maybe he should bring it up with her. Talk about it. But what if she confirmed his worst fears? What if she truly did want out? He was a fucking selfish man still, and he wanted to hold onto this until it was pried out of his hands. 

He wanted to roll over at night and reach out for her and not fear that he’d feel her flinch away from him. He wanted to walk into the nursery while she was feeding Sofía and not fear that she’d bite his head off about hovering. He wanted all the things he had been blessed with when Josie was a baby and he’d taken for granted. 

Javier had realized the merit in the saying — you never realize how good you have it, until it’s gone. And she already felt one foot out the door of their relationship. 

[ihaveissuesbutthatsokay]

EREMIN URBAN FANTASY (I THINK???) AU!!!

WARNING : strong language, mention of blood, of a missing person, grief and mention of depression

The forest. That's what everyone called it. But It wasn't really a forest. 

Not a normal one, anyway.

There was something inside. Something sinister. Everyone could feel it the moment they entered. You could feel it the moment you entered, the air suddenly getting colder, shivers forming up your skin, and feeling a burning hole behind your head where you swore you could feel something, someone, watching your every step, your every movement, your every breath.

You were known as the boy who seeked freedom. 

 People tried to venture into the forest. Dreaming of exploration, dreaming to see what awaited on the other side of the forest. That's why the town folks would prepare expeditions to go outside. 

 After all, being trapped in a small town with nothing but a wide forest to keep you company, that's not freedom. It was almost as if the forest wanted to keep you tight, too afraid to let go, too afraid to watch you wither away. But you wanted to go away. You hated this small town, this confined space. 

No one came out alive in the forest. 

That's why the town stopped entering the forest altogether. It was too dangerous. Too reckless. But you were the boy who seeked freedom. You wouldn't give up. 

Why do you never give up, goddamnit!

You were reckless, naive, young. You thought the world bended at your own rules. You thought you and your friends, together, would be untouchable. 

I was wrong. 

That's right. You were wrong. 

And that's why you will always hate yourself for dragging your friends into this mess. That's why you wished you weren't the boy who seeked freedom after all. 

----

Armin couldn't sleep. Not that it was something unusual. He could barely sleep these past few years, with school work piling up, finals right around the corner, and generally just life being a complete shithole of a mess. 

He had three unfinished assignments due tomorrow. And it was already 3 am. He couldn't concentrate, couldn't focus. He could feel his eyelids closing up by themselves, his hand loosening up on his pen, his head about to drop on his desk---

He sighed in defeat, and stood up from his chair more violently than it was necessary. 

Coffee. He needed coffee. 

He made a face,just thinking about drinking it.  He hated the bitterness that crap had to offer, the sensation of his tongue being burned while he tried to chug it into one go, as he wanted to be done with it. 

He hated it, but he needed it. 

The caffeine kept him awake. 

Mikasa would always chide him about this. At how unhealthy of a coping mechanism it was, to rely on a substance to keep him awake. 

He still remembers how two years ago,  exactly 4 months after the incident, how she would constantly tell him to stop drinking that burned bean water, probably very worried at the lack of sleep Armin clearly was not getting. 

“You don't even like it.” She would frown. 

 Armin would laugh at the name Mikasa used to describe the coffee, avoiding the last statement.  “Since when did you start calling it like that?” 

Mikasa would frown again, knowing what he was doing. She didn't push him though. instead, she would just shake her head. 

“Sleep.” She would say very seriously, while giving him a sideway glance. “You need sleep.” 

Armin would look at her dead in the eyes, at the dark circles surrounding them, at the way she kept her body, the way her skin didn't have the same glow it used to have, her face hollower and emptier than it usually looked. 

“So do you.” He would softly whisper in return. She would just shrug, and the conversation would always hit a dead end there. “Besides,” he would add,  after a moment of silence, “I do like coffee. Now.” 

“Oh.” She would say. Not convinced. 

“Yeah.” He would answer. Trying to make the lie sound convincing. To whom, he didn't know. Mikasa or himself? Perhaps both. 

“Okay.” She would respond. “That's good.” She would grip her red scarf thighter, a gesture Armin noticed she would always do when she was nervous, sad or upset,  and from that,   Armin knew that she didn't believe him at all. But neither of them  commented on it. It was a comforting lie. 

Now as he was standing alone in his small kitchen, still sleep deprived, not listening to Mikasa’s advice, with  a cup of boiling hot coffee in his hand, moonlight reflecting on his windows, a single tear slipped down his eye.  It trailed all down his cheek, slowly, until it plopped into the drink he was holding with shaky hands. 

He missed him. A lot. God, he missed him so much. 

 He missed his smile, his eyes, his laugh, his everything. The way he would scream in excitement, the way he would always run at the high, high hill, always fist pumping into the air when he thought he won, only to get disappointed when he realized Mikasa was just letting him win on purpose.He missed the way he would get excited when his mom would bake him a new cake, the way he would always bring Armin a piece  afterwards, eager to see his reactions while eating it. 

“So?” He would ask, more close to a demand than a question, his tone full of youth excitement. “Do you like it?” 

“Yeah!” He said, surprising himself. Not that Eren's mom was a bad cook, not at all. But the cake flavor was coffee, and he never saw the appeal to this grown ups drink. Strangely, however, he really enjoyed this one. Thinking back at it, maybe he was just forcing himself to like it, cause he wanted to see the boy smile widen. Maybe he just wanted to love everything Eren offered him. Maybe he was just a delusional kid with a crush. Who knows. It was too late to dwell on it now.  

“Your mom is an awesome cook.” Armin commented, licking some frosting off his hands. 

The boy gloated in pride. “She said she will help me learn how to bake if I behave.” 

“I thought you weren't allowed to bake anymore,” Armin said, still chewing on the cake. “Last time we baked at your house, it was a bit of a disaster.” It wasn't as big of a disaster as they made it out to be. But they were childrens, and everything seemed a bigger deal than it was. 

He huffed in response. “That wasn't my fault! It was the oven's fault…” he murmured. Armin laughed. “I dont think your mom agrees with that.” 

The other boy shoved him playfully. “How was I supposed to know I can't just  bake coffee beans?” 

Armin sighed. “I told you it wasn't a good idea. You never listen.” 

“Whatever.” He said, plopping his legs on Armin’s lap. 

“Hey!” Armin yelped, the boy's dirty feets almost getting into Armins plate. “I'm still eating here.” 

Eren laughed. After a bit, Armin joined in. 

They laughed, and laughed, and laughed. 

Armin's laugh never quite sounded the same after he was gone. 

Neither did Mikasa’s for that matter. Probably the others too, but he lost contact with them, so he couldn't say for sure. They still all went to the same school, sure, but it was almost as if they were complete strangers, everyone collectively ignoring each other, in a desperate attempt to forget the incident. The only person he still talked to was Mikasa. And she, too, sometimes seemed so far away, like a mirage ready to dissolve right under his fingertips. 

Armin was about to take a sip from his coffee. More like chugging it down in one go, but he froze right as the cup touched his lips. 

His hands started to tremble, from fear or cold, he couldn't distinguish. Despite the heat of the beverage in his hand, he suddenly felt really cold. His arms shivered, his hands turning white as he clenched to his cup as if it could give him a sense of support. By gripping it too hard, some coffee splashed onto his hands, and he let out a hiss of pain. He put the coffee on the table, careful  not to spill anymore. 

 He started feeling feverish, his head becoming a dizzying mess. He put a hand on the counter, for support. He felt like an invisible force was pushing his lungs, pushing until he couldn't breath, until he was coughing, and coughing, he needed air, he desperately needed air, but it was as if whatever was making him feel likethis, hated air, hated it with a burning passion, and it wanted to make Armin hate air as much as it did. 

Armin felt like fainting. He probably was about to faint. He didn't know how it happened, but suddenly he was kneeling on the ground, 

This is it. He thought miserably. I am going to die, today, alone, without even knowing if he is still alive, leaving Eren behind, leaving Mikasa behind, leaving everyone behind, because im  a failure, and, and, and---

And then it stopped. His lungs could breathe again. He gasped, desperately trying to inhale as much air as possible, the burning in chest slowly fading away, even if  his head still felt like someone was smashing a rock onto it. 

But he could finally breathe again, and he could feel his pulse. He wasn't dead. He was alive. That's what mattered. He took another shaky breath, and used the chairs and the counter as support to stand up again. His legs were still shaking though, so instead of standing up, he opted to sit on the chair. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Those were the only thoughts going through his head, as he tried to sip his coffee again. That sensation, that feeling. There was no mistake. It was just like the incident two years ago, the same burning sensation, the same desperation to just give up, to do anything, anything, just so the pain could stop, the envy of being able to breathe---

“Ymir.” 

The cup shattered on the ground, a sharp sound echoing through the empty hallways, coffee spilling everywhere. Armin didn't even notice. He was frozen in place, hand still raised, eyes still looking in front of him. 

That voice. He couldn't make sense of anything. Except : That voice. 

That voice. I know that voice. I would know that voice everywhere. 

He turned around so quickly his chair went flying to the ground, glass splintering his bare feet from where the glass shattered. His eyes widened, tears spilling out of his ocean blue eyes like fountains. 

“Eren?” He whispered. He took a step forward, hand reaching out, trying to touch him, hug him, kiss him, just feel him under his touch but---

His hands went right through him, as if...as if he wasn't real. A look of hurt and confusion shadowed Armin's face. “Ymir.” The man in front of him said again. He sounded monotone, no emotions, no feelings, no nothing. His face didn't seem like an open book anymore, his eyes not gleaming with millions' adventure. 

 “You have to find Ymir.” 

“Eren.” That's all Armin could muster to utter, his voice shaking, his lips trembling. Was this a sick joke of his brain? The sleep deprivation finally kicking in? Making him almost pass out, and now hallucinate his missing-but-much-more-likely-his-long-lost-dead-best-friend?

“Listen to me, you have to listen to me, you need to find Ymir, or else, or else, or else.” He kept repeating the same sentence, as if he was a broken recorder. He closed his eyes, opened them again, closed them again. Armin took a step backwards. His mind was starting to creep him out. 

“Eren, is that really you, please tell me I'm not hallucinating you.” He needed to ask, even if it was probably all fake, all his mind–

“Or else.” He closed his eyes again, muttered some stuff.

“Or else?” Armin whispered. “Eren, talk to me, please.” 

“Ymir. Find. Ymir.” 

With that, Eren started to fade again.

“Wait, no!” Armin didn't want him to leave, not right after he finally got to see him again. He didn't care this might all be his head. He didn't care this might all have to do with what happened three years ago, he didn't care, he just wanted his best friend back, he just wanted to be able to laugh and mess around, and talk about the future as if they both had a clue, he just wanted Eren back. 

In his desperate attempt to reach him, Armin slipped on the spilled coffee; he could feel blood oozing from his feets, now from his hands, a stinging pain forming all around his skin. He didn't care, didn't notice. He struggled to get up again, and when he slipped again, he decided to crawl, not caring about the glass shatters on the floor, not caring about the pain, the stiffness of the floor, the red blood mixing with the brown coffee, he didn't care, he just needed to reach him, try again to touch him, maybe he imagined him fading under his touch, maybe it was a trick of the light, maybe he truly did come back, maybe, maybe, just maybe---

“Dont.” He whispered, more like a mix between a sob and a beg. “Don't go.” 

“Armin–?” He sounded surprised, shocked, relieved, happy, nothing like the creepy expression and monotone voice he had before when he was muttering all those things, the same name over and over again, what was it again---he couldn't remember in the moment, the only thing in his mind was that he recognized him, he saw him and he knew who he was, and he said his name so gentle, so quietly, as if he was uttering a precious thing he didn't want to break–

“Eren.” Armin said, reaching his arms out, knowing, just knowing, he would reach his arm to, and they would hold hands, and everything would be fine again, he would have his best friend back–

But just as suddenly as he appeared, he disappeared. 

And Armin couldn't do anything but curl up on the ground and cry, and cry, until his mind encircled him into a deep, unwanted sleep. 

[duskwoodloversblog]

JessyxMaleMC

I got to Duskwood just a week ago,my mission is to find Hannah and return her to her friends and family safely,I knew it wouldn't be easy but what I didn't know was that it would be this hard,and without Jake it's even harder,he gave me a lot of useful informations which I could use but now I'm totally lost the only one who's giving me strength to go on,to keep looking for Hannah is Jessy.She is the only person I can trust in the whole group.I know she didn't co-operate with me at first because normally,she was just scared but then it was like she was helping me more than anyone else.She trusted me from the start,and never ever doubted me like everyone else.

(Mike was thinking about all this while sitting on the chair and drinking coffee, it's pretty early in the morning)

I had just woken up from sleep after having a terrible nightmare,and then I checked my phone and saw Jessy's text which said,"Good morning Mike!!!❤️ text me when you wake up!!!" And this text made me forget about the nightmare,and all the negative thoughts.

I got up from bed and made a mug of coffee and started texting her.

"Hey Jessy!!Good morning 💖"

She got online immediately and replied,

"Heey!!!did you sleep well?!"

I don't want to worry her so I said,"Yes of course,I slept great,thank you for asking."

"Soooo,do you remember about our date yesterday?how did you like it?😊💞" How can I not like the time I spent with you?

"There's no way I'm ever going to forget that wonderful date😉❤️" I reply.

Jessy:Aww❤️ok I'll text you in a bit Richy is coming 😶"

"Ok ok,take care and stay safe,bye"

I feel way better after talking to her,now I'm going to look in to all the clues I have until now and try to figure out the answer to this big mystery.

Any if this doesn't make any sense, first of all why was Hannah depressed? everyone said that she was a cheerful and happy person,then was there a sad and depressed girl behind that happy face?

And secondly,who is this Jennifer? what's the connection?I don't understand any of this yet but I have to keep going.

(Mike's phone vibrates,he checks his phone and it's a text from Cleo)

Cleo:Hey,do you have any new leads?

Mike:I'm trying to find one but it seems like this man without a face guy is a professional.

Cleo:Oh...are we not going to find Hannah?

Mike:We are!!!I promise, please just hold on a little bit,we are very close to finding her ok?

Cleo:Ok,let me know if you need any kind of help.

Mike:Will do

I know I'm saying I'm going to find Hannah but how?when? Where?I don't know

(It's almost evening,Mike is still investigating on the pictures he got from Hannah's cloud, he's reading chats to get any kind of hints and trying everything in his power to find Hannah)

Mike was going through Hannah's call list and suddenly he gets a call, it's from Jessy.

He smiles and picks up the call but he wasn't prepared for what happened next.It wasn't Jessy's voice,it was a scary and dark voice and he didn't need much time to understand that it was actually the man without a face.

"I have Hannah,and now I'm taking this sweet little girlfriend too,I told you to stop interfering on other people's businesses but you didn't listen to me,you chose to still go on but your choices have consequences and now it's your time to suffer"

Oh my....no no no no,Jessy is not going to suffer because of something I did!!!I'm not going to let anything happen to her.

"If you dare to hurt her no one can spare you from me!!!" Mike says over the phone.

"Oh yes?ok let's see" say the man without a face and after like 4 seconds Mike heard a scream,he knows that voice.... It's Jessy.

"Do you still think you can threat me?" He asks Mike.

"It was me who's still trying to find Hannah not her,she has nothing to do with all of this please her her go!!!you want me right?take me but not her." Now Mike says in a request voice.He hears a malicious laugher.

"If you want to see Jessy and Hannah alive then come here" TMWF says.

"And where is here??" Mike says desperately and the phone hangs up.

No no,this can't be happening!!!I can't lose Jessy.

Mike gets a notification, it's a text from an unknown number, it's an address to who knows where? it's saying routes.

"I know this is dangerous and might be a trap but I have to do something,I can't let anything happen to Jessy or Hannah because of me" Mike says to himself.

I'm going to this address this tonight,and I'm going to save my Jessy and also Hannah from that monster.

Mike is getting ready,he wears a black jacket and jeans,takes his phone and gets out of his house and starts to do as the text says.and finally he reaches the forest.

But that's not it after reaching the forest he gets another call from another number,so he picks it up.

"I didn't think you'd come this soon,I wasn't prepared to treat another guest of mine yet,but since you're already here go straight and take right and then count 100 steps"

The call drops, Mike starts to follow the instructions again.

"I'm not going to back off now,today I'm going to end this once and for all" He reaches the place but he doesn't see anything it's just thousands of old trees and bushes.

Mike hears sounds coming from behind him,he looks behind and sees his worst nightmare,TMWF holding a gun on Jessy's head and Hannah is all tied up.

"What do you want??why are you doing this? what's your intention???" Mike asks out of anger.

"I don't think you should be the one who's supposed to be questioning right now now,am I right or am I right?" He says

Jessy:MIKE!!Are you stupid??why did you come here? he's going to kill you please run away!!NOW!!!

"Im not going to leave you here alone with him ok?I'm going to be ok and so are you and so is Hannah." Mike replies.

"Wow,I like your confidence" TMWF says.

He repeats,"let's see who wins,you or me?" He loads his gun and starts to count.

"5....4....3....2..." TMWF was about to say 1 but someone knows him down from behind with a bat. Mike says "And there goes 1,this was for trying to hurt Jessy and kidnapping Hannah"

Mike goes to Jessy and Jessy hugs him tightly immediately

"I was so scared,I thought he would kill me,and I would never be able to talk to you again" Jessy says while crying hysterically.

Mike replies,"No one can hurt you while I'm here ok?I'm not going to let anything happen to you,I promise sweetie"

"But...you were there,how did you get here?" She now looks at Mike confused.

Mike laughs and replies,"It was actually Richy,I made a mask of my face and asked Richy to join me,he was distracting TMWF and I silently came here and you saw what happened next" Mike winks at her.

They see Hannah and Richy standing a few feets away from them.

Jessy and Mike goes to Hannah and Richy.Jessy hugs Hannah,Mike says "it's great to see you Hannah, finally,but we have to take care of this Monster."

Everyone agrees so they go to him and takes down his mask turns out... it's actually Hannah's doctor, Doctor Ulric Barret.

They tie him up and hands him to the police.

From the police,they get to know that Dr.Ulric Barret was doing some illegal work and Hannah found it out and that's why he kidnapped Hannah and pretended to be the legend of Duskwood "The man without a face".

Finally the nightmare is over,Hannah is with her boyfriend, sister and friends and Mike's mission is fulfilled,Jessy is alright,what else could he ask for?

Thomas held a part in his house to celebrate,and Mike was obviously the chief guest.

Mike talked to Thomas,Cleo,and Richy and of course with Hannah,she explained that she was actually trying to send Thomas Jake's number but accidentally she sent Mike's,she apologizes because of her he had to go through so much.Then,Jessy comes and Mike immediately walks to her.

"I was waiting for you,why did you come so late?" He asks Jessy.

"Well... first of all,I was getting ready properly,how do I look?"

"Just like a goddess like always" Mike replies leaving Jessy blush like crazy.

"Hey..I wanted to say thank you for saving my life Mike.. Really." She says looking into Mike's eyes.

"I didn't save yours,I saved mine" Mike replies winking,which makes Jessy laugh.

"Sooooo,now that everything is over,are you going back to your town?far from here?" Jessy asks hesitating.

"Yes,I was planning on booking a plane ticket tonight,but then...I changed my plan a little bit"

"I seeee...so what's your plan now?" Jessy asks curioused.

"I plan on staying with you,here in Duskwood." Mike says putting Jessy's beautiful red lock of hair behind her ear.

"Really??why would you do that?" She asks with a puppy face.

"Because...." Mike pulls Jessy closer to him and kisses her.

"Because,I love you Jessy Hawkins" Mike says looking at her smiling.

Jessy hugs him and says,"I love you too!!!"

The end❤️❤️❤️

Hope you guys enjoyed reading it,I'm so sorry if there was any mistakes, please ignore them,Thank you so so so much for reading😊😊😊

@hacked-by-jake @hacker-ghost @jakefromduskwood @jakeduskwood @duskwood-fandom @duskwoodaestfan @duskwoodraven @nerdinthecorner