#is this a form of self harm why do I do this to myself and to him too

[phantommarigold]

me when I want to say something and type out a whole long thing and then decide actually I'm not good enough to talk about this or no they don't want to hear it and ah but what if I'm wrong of course I'm talking from a place of privilege and ignorance and my worldviews are too black and white and

[selenoplexia]

logging back in just bc this is my only private diary

[weird-and-unwell]

“Autism isn’t a disability”, “it’s just a difference”.

I am of lower support needs. I hold down a (part time) job. I have travelled around my home country. I live alone.

At work they complain about my speech. I’m too quiet, they say, “barely audible” is the words used at my autism assessment. My voice is all monotone, and it needs to be more expressive. I get this complaint every week for a year straight, until my manager gives up. I don’t attend trainings because I forget and find it overwhelming anyways. My coworkers form friendships, and I watch them talk, wondering how they make it look so easy. I get a new manager, I tell her I find the work socials too overwhelming to attend. She tells me I can just say I don’t want to come. I don’t know how to tell her that I desperately want to, to be like the rest of my coworkers, instead of constantly being the one sat on the sidelines.

I come home, and I can hear my neighbours again. The niggling background noise messes with my head, and I meltdown; I throw myself on the floor, I hit my head on the ground repeatedly as I scream and cry, tear out my hair and scratch my arms and face. When I complain, people tell me that I just have to accept that neighbours make noise, that I should just ignore it, or block it out. I am the problem, the one overreacting. I put in earplugs and it hurts and I'm crying again. I wear headphones but I can't handle the noise for that long.

I have reminders set for everything. Every chore, no matter how big or small. My phone beeps at me, reminding me that I need to wash the dishes. If I don't go now, then tick the little box on my phone to say I did it, it won't get done. My home is almost always a mess despite this. It's not just chores either. I won't think to wash, dress myself, brush my teeth or hair, without those reminders. And unless someone actively prompts me to do so, I will do those tasks "wrong". I haven't changed my underwear in a month, and I'm currently aware that's a problem, but within the hour I'm going to forget all over again until I'm next prompted.

I can't sleep without medication - it's not unusual for autistic people to have messed up circadian rhythms. Without my medication it's hard to even tell when I'm awake and when I'm asleep. When I was younger and at school I slept through so many lessons, and when I have my mandatory breaks from my sleep meds I sleep through every alarm I set. I want to work full time some day, and I'm terrified of what my sleep issue will mean for me then.

I don't travel independently. I don't travel anywhere alone, always with someone or to someone. If to someone, I have assistance the whole way. I find it embarrassing sometimes. Yes, I have a job that requires a certain level of intelligence. No, I cannot get on a train by myself. If I am not shown To The Train, To My Seat, I will be unable to travel.

Last time I travelled, I was left alone at the station for ten minutes. I stayed rigid and sobbed the whole time. I was overwhelmed. It was too loud, I didn't know where I was or where I was meant to be going, and until the assistance person came back I couldn't do anything because for some reason I cannot understand it.

I spend a lot of time trying to explain to people that despite my relative competence, I am unable to do many things. Why can I understand high level maths but not how to get on a damn train? No fucking idea.

"Autism isn't a disability" most severely affects those with higher support needs, and this is absolutely not to take away from them. But for fucks sake, autism is disabling.

Maybe you personally are extremely lucky and just find you're a little "socially awkward", or just find some textures painful or nauseating. Maybe you would be fine with just a couple of adjustments.

But for a lot of us, even lower support needs autistics, it doesn't work like that. I will never sleep properly without medication. I still have the self-harming type of meltdowns as an adult, over things that are deemed as being "just part of life". I live alone but have daily visits from family - if I'm left fully alone I forget all the little daily things one is "meant" to do. I had speech therapy as a child to get me to the "barely audible" "mostly correct" speech. I don't mask, I'm not really sure how I would to begin with.

I'm not unhappy with being autistic. It's just who I am. Life would be easier if I were neurotypical, but I also wouldn't be me. I just wish those luckier than me could...stop saying it's all chill and not at all a disability.

Because yes, socially, I am "awkward". I obviously don't make eye contact - I stare down and to the side of whoever I speak to. People think it's weird or creepy or a sign of disinterest. My autism assessor wrote down about how I often use words and phrases that don't make sense to others, even though they make perfect sense to me. In my daily life this means I'm frequently misunderstood, and have to try explain what I mean, when what I mean is exactly what I said, and the true issue is that what I mean just doesn't make sense to others. I gesture, at times, but again, my gestures apparently don't make sense in relation to what I'm saying. I take things literally, I have almost no filter, and I can't explain how I go from topic to topic.

And yes, I do have sensory problems. Sometimes people, including others with sensory problems, tell me that "sometimes sensory issues have to be tolerated", and I wonder what they think of as being sensory issues. I'm sure they do struggle, but if I say I can't handle a touch, I mean you will need to forcefully hold it against me for me to touch it more than a second and it will make me meltdown. If I say "I can't eat that", I mean that I am unable to swallow it, that I will gag and choke and inevitably spit it back out, as much as I try. If I say I can't handle a noise, I mean I'm so close to a meltdown and my meltdowns are a problem for everyone around me.

But yes. Autism. Not a disability. Just a fun quirky difference.

[meanbossart]

What are your thoughts/takes on Astarion's relationship with sex? How does that reflect on his relationship with Drow?

(Obvious disclaimer: this is just my opinion, and my goal is always to entertain myself - never to argue or be the most correct about canon interpretations or themes.)

Hm. So, something that I find very unique (and frankly, overlooked!) about Astarion's previews experiences, is that when speaking specifically about his M.O for luring marks for Cazador the majority of the encounters he seems to have had were not, primarily, "negative".

They weren't positive either, of course. There is no way around it: having sex against your will is rape. But in his case, the perpetrator was never inside the room. From the way he speaks of the people he slept with, he seems to hold a mixture of contempt and pity; but never anger; from the way he speaks of and with Sebastian, it even seems like, sometimes, perhaps in the early days of those 200 years he might have even allowed himself to indulge in small, brief attachments and hopes. Then, as fatigue settled in and the permanence of the situation hit him, I'm sure the motions became mechanized at best and agonizing at worst.

But I think whatever harm the experience has done to his sexuality or self-value, it's damage struck him tenfold in the concept of object permanence. Imagine it: throughout the course of two centuries, you are not allowed to form a connection with a single person who isn't damned to die later the same day. You never see the same face twice. You are never allowed to progress past impersonal first encounters. Astarion says he wants to be seen and known, but a reality that hurts almost more than being invisible is that there were probably thousands of people who would have loved to do that. But you ruined them as much as they ruined you.

I wholeheartedly believe that he was sick of sex, and that for decades to come there will be times when he still turns the lights off during the act, or, ideally, just says No Thank You and moves on, but the hypothetical that really haunts me is that other thing: the almost pavlovian association between sex and looming demise. That people are going to be taken away from you, so why bother being present?

This is a feeling he struggles with sorting through and vocalizing. And in turn, DU Drow often is under the assumption that this is all about sex, and about whether he truly wants it or not. This is yet another small theme in A Novel Experience but, in summary, for a while he still doubts Astarion's own agency to initiate or participate in it - this reduction of the issue as a matter of physical touch, while the big picture is much more complex.

And this does not always externalize in the far more palatably tragic "woe is me, everyone I love leaves" way. Sometimes Astarion still catches himself thinking of the ones he loves as disposable, and acting with due disregard for their lives like it's second nature.

But back on subject: he can have, does have, and likes sex. By finally being allowed to form a friendship and rapport with a sexual partner for whom he does not feel the need to perform to, he can finally enjoy the silly, the awkward, the gross and even the subpar aspects of sex with true intimacy; the anxiety sets after the fact, as he wonders about what comes next once you're out of his sight.

[mindfulstudyquest]

here's the reason you procrastinate

based on Fuschia Sirois' research

everyone procrastinate at some point. research suggests that almost 1 in 4 people procrastinate on a fairly regular basis, and the rates are even higher among college and university students ( 50% of them procrastinate regularly and about 85-90% do so occasionally ).

because procrastination is so common we tend not to put too much thought into it, in the end what is the problem? it's just delay.

well, it's not. actually procrastination is harmful delay ( so defined by the researchers ); it is a form of delay which is:

voluntary

unnecessary

involves important tasks which you intended to do

people often underestimate the consequences of procrastination and how debilitating and harmful it can be. if you delay dealing with ( for example ) your academic works, of course you can expect some negative results in that area, but what about the collateral consequences of it?

research has shown that people who have problems with procrastination have low physical and mental health and practice less healthy behaviors. they deal with depression, stress and anxiety.

just think about the enormous amount of stress that procrastination brings: first of all, constantly chasing deadlines. deadlines can nag anyone, even those who don't struggle with delaying, but then it ends, the job is turned in, and everything goes back to normal. for procastinators this is not the case, they will keep putting off important things and will constantly end up with an imminent deadline.

so, if it's so harmful for your health, why do people do it? some people think it's about laziness or poor time managment, but actually:

laziness isn't procrastination. if you're lazy you don't have the energy to do anything, instead procrastinators are always busy with a thousand non-essential tasks to do, in fact they avoid doing one specific task, not every task ( for example if i need to study, but i'm procrastinating it, i end up cleaning my room )

poor time managment it's actually a symptom of procrastination, not a cause.

from a psychological perspective the origins of procrastination are rooted in negative emotions and the urge to cope with them through avoidance. so actually procrastination is about poor mood managment, not poor time managment.

procrastination starts when we have a task that's unpleasant, but we have to do it. and we use procrastination then as a way to get relief from those negative emotions associated with the task, so basically it's not even about avoiding the task, but it's about avoid the negative emotions that we associate with the task.

we need to avoid stress and aversive feeling that come with the task, especially when we don't feel like we can manage those negative emotions at the moment. so we take the task, we put it aside, and it's instant relief. it's fast, it's easy and it works for a little while, then that sense of shame, guilt and self-blame starts to kick in.

so why do we keep procrastinating? for that sense of relief, because that made us feel rewarded and we tend to repeat behaviors that rewarded us. this can easily lead to a cycle of procrastination.

however, the negative thoughts that we have ( "why didn't i start earlier?", "i'm letting myself down" etc. ) don't actually make us take action. they just add layers of layers on pre-existing negativity.

so how do you get out of the procastination cycle?

go back to valuing your task, if it's so important that you do it, remind yourself why you are doing it

remember that we tend to overestimate the discomfort that a given challenge will bring us. probably your task isn't even that time-consuming, unpleasant and frustrating

be compassionate and and forgive yourself, it's an effective strategy to reduce the negative emotions associated with the task. you are not the first nor the last person to procrastinate, we are all human and we all make mistakes. research has shown that doing so reduces the risk of procastination.

hope you enjoyed this little explanation, here's my sources: https://youtu.be/xTEPNxx0MsA

[missmastectomy]

I was hesitant to write this post, but I want to talk about why so many women and teenage girls are getting double mastectomies.

The justification a lot of trans people use for elective double mastectomies is that "top surgery" helps people feel comfortable in their bodies. Traditionally, this surgery was restricted to transmen. In the recent decade, however, nonbinary identified and even non-trans identified women have been getting mastectomies. I remember clear as day when my coworker (who identified as a "cis" woman) told me that at 18 she was planning on saving for top surgery. I myself got my breasts removed when I identified as nonbinary, having been on testosterone for 2 years.

It's important to remember that no person is born wanting surgery. Society creates conditions that are hostile to women, GNC, and gay people, and this hostility encourages a dissociated state. The body is removed from the mind - instead of the body being an intrinsic part of your personhood, a mechanism through which we experience the world, it instead becomes ornamental. This is perfectly represented by all forms of non-reconstructive cosmetic surgery, which risk people's health for entirely aesthetic reasons.

So, why do teen girls want to remove their breasts? For those of who experienced unwanted sexual advances from a young age, the answer is intuitive. Breasts are inherently sexualized. They are not seen as a vital organ that contributes to bodily function and health, but as a decoration, the only purpose of which is to attract men and feed babies. In this way, a woman's breasts do not even belong to her. When men openly gawk at a woman without a bra, when relatives grope at her as a pubescent girl, when we are exposed to an endless stream of hyper-sexualized images of women with their cleavage out, a message is sent loud and clear: existing in a female body is unsafe.

I want to make it very clear that an elective mastectomy and the practices of breast ironing are very different, but there are commonalities in the attitudes behind both. Breast ironing is done to pubescent girls in order to "prevent" her being sexually assaulted or harassed by men, sometimes including male relatives. When I hear stories of girls in the West starving themselves and binding to hide their chests, I can't help but see similarities. When I was binding and restricting calories as a 15 year old, I would have said I was doing it so that I could pass as a man. But I would have been lying to you. I was lying to myself. I didn't hate my breasts because I was "born in the wrong body." I hated my breasts because they were used to justify my sexualization. From my perspective they put me in danger.

We often hear that women's rights in the West have been secured, but you need only look at the war on women's bodies to see that that is a fantasy. When young girls constantly receive the messaging that your curves and boobs WILL attract men and that you will be objectified for it, many will try to opt out.

Take Liv Hewson, for example.

She says herself that her anorexia was a manifestation of "gender dysphoria," but the question remains - where did this dysphoria come from? Why would anorexia develop as an outlet for it? What makes more sense: a young woman was born hating her body and her breasts because she has a gendered, non-female soul, or that same woman hates her body because she has been conditioned as such by a patriarchal society, the same society that encourages extreme self harm and body modification through a multi-billion dollar cosmetic industry?

Gender dysphoria in young women needs to be demystified. It's not special, it's not unique. It is NOT evidence that she needs invasive surgery or steroids to feel comfortable in her body. It is evidence that she is in pain. In order to address the rising rate of transition in young women, we must first acknowledge the conditions that nurture this form of self-hatred.

Transition IS a feminist issue. It is just as relevant in Western feminism as tackling the beauty industry, female sexualization, and violence perpetrated against women through porn. All of these issues are deeply interconnected. When we approach dysphoric women with compassion and encourage them to perceive their bodies as a part of themselves that deserves to remain intact and whole, rather than as their enemy, we take a necessary step towards female liberation.

[traumasurvivors]

I am finally putting together a FAQ for easy access for people new to my blog since a lot of these posts I think are helpful are buried. Some of these links link to posts on my blog, but some link to my personal website. My website is not monetized in any way, so there should be no ads or anything intrusive.

About Coping

How can I make a self-care box?

Here's some instructions I wrote!

What are some ways I can ground myself?

Here is an article with a bunch of examples, but there are so many more that aren't listed here!

I'm struggling with trauma around the holidays and/or a traumaversary.

Here's an article I wrote on trauma around the holidays!

Here's an article I wrote with advice for traumaversaries.

General Trauma FAQ

Do I have to forgive them in order to heal?

The short answer is "no." What everyone needs differs. While someone may need to forgive as a part of their healing journey, this isn't necessarily true for everyone. Here's a post I wrote about this.

What is trauma bonding?

This term is often used in a colloquial sense when two people who have suffered trauma bond together over their trauma. This article talks about the technical definition and is about how someone going through trauma forms an emotional bond with the one who is traumatizing or abusing them.

Was it bad enough?

The short answer is yes. But you can read a longer blog post for why here.

I'm struggling with anger after trauma.

That's a really valid way to feel. Here is some more info on it.

What is hypersexuality and/or sex repulsion?

See this article here.

What is Trauma Imposter Syndrome?

This is when a survivor invalidates themselves by saying something like “my trauma isn’t so bad, other people have it worse than me.” Here's my post on it.

How do I talk about my trauma?

First, remember that you do not have to talk about anything you don't want to. But if you do, here are some tips I have.

How do I listen to someone talk about their trauma?

The first thing I want you to remember, when someone tells you that they want to talk to you about their trauma, is that their needs do not negate your own needs. Here's my post on it.

Is Healing Linear?

No. Healing is a rollercoaster. Here's a post on it.

About Abuse and Specific Forms of Trauma

What are some different types of abuse?

Physical abuse, emotional abuse, sexual abuse, financial abuse, cultural abuse. You can read more about these here.

What is Medical Trauma?

It is a vast term that includes many different things, mostly linked to major emotional distress that occurs as a result of hospital stays, illness, or treatment (so yes, therapy trauma is valid.) You can see my longer article here.

What is Parentification?

Parentification is a form of abuse where a child is forced to take on the role of a parent. You can see my longer article here.

Why do I love and/or miss my abuser?

Nothing is wrong with you if you love and/or miss your abuser. There are any number of reasons why you could be feeling this way, and I will share some examples with you. You can see my article on this here!

Other

Are they trying to manipulate me?

While there isn't a clear cut guide, some of the points in this article might help you in getting more information about one of your relationships.

What is consent?

Consent is a freely-given yes. See this post here.

How can I be prepared for sex?

See this post here.

I also wrote this article that covers the same points as the first post, but focuses from a trauma perspective. A lot of the info is the same.

Why is it important to validate my feelings?

See this post here.

I'm struggling with self-harm/What is self-harm?

Here's a post on this.

[cubffections]

𝒜𝑅𝐼𝒜 、argenti.

cw. hurt / comfort. slight self harm ( nail markings ) & self degradation. just something i written to comfort myself when i feel down, i hope it can also do the same for you. ٜ❤︎

“fair maiden, may i have this dance?”

your watery eyes blinked up at the knight that knelt down before you, a knight who shouldn't be here. a knight who shouldn't be witnessing you tearstained on the floor as you held yourself, struggling to keep it together. “argenti what are you—”

the rose knight held your trembling hands, eyes scanning the dark red nail induced marks that bloomed across your palms. his gaze furrowed as the marks traveled down your wrist, the pang in his heart resembling dozens of thorns circling his torso and plunging into his chest. regardless, he lifted your body up along with him, one arm wrapping firmly around your waist as his fingers laced together with yours. “a waltz you say? what an excellent choice.”

your chest constricted, shame and embarrassment suffocating your system. you didn't know how to face him. a moment of weakness caught by the one person you wished to hide it from, how were you supposed to look him in the eye after such a pathetic display? it had only meant to be for just a little while, a moment to yourself that would’ve been undiscovered and concealed if he had returned a couple minutes later. why did it have to be now?

the waltz was awkward. a word you’d never imagined you’d use to describe the two of you, but the only fitting word for the tuneless dance. his eyes watched you as yours numbly stared everywhere but him, permitting your lily-livered body to be tossed around like a puppet in the capable hands of its puppeteer.

the thorns dug themselves deeper into him, a feeling he kissed goodbye long ago creeping itself in his system. fear— yes that's what it was. he was becoming afraid. afraid if he released you as you stood you’d wither away without a trace. afraid that the lifeless look in your eye would spread to each one of your limbs. afraid that you too would be killed by a sorrow that he could not slay.

“dear flower akin to the gleaming cosmos, what is bringing you sorrow?” argenti cooed, the stars in his eyes twinkling once your solemn gaze finally met his. “even like this your beauty doesn't fade, as said in the teachings of idrila.” he praised, as if worry didn't prickled into each word.

“..i’m not worthy of the beauty’s gaze.” you mutter as the knight dipped you. immediately pressing a loving kiss in the middle of your forehead before he raised you back up. “you're not the one to make that decision." argenti reminded gently, the pace of the waltz picking up as he spun you around the room.

a silence fell between the two of you as the waltz continued, his scarlet hair flowed with yours as his armor whistled a tune. the awkwardness of the waltz slowly faded, soon being replaced with something more familiar and comforting as the two of you mended together. argenti had always been your perfect dance partner. the only one who guided your heart to its lost pieces, and the only one who desired the responsibility of whisking you away from your distasteful thoughts that wished to creep inside your mind.

“forgive me, rose. you saw something unpleasant.” you finally spoke, life weaving back into your movements and eyes. you gazed up with him with the love of a billion stars, a gaze that he’d always return with the gift of a billion roses. “which was?” argenti questioned softly, shaking his head. “expressing yourself is another form of beauty. though i wish you wouldn't harm yourself in the process.” he lifted your arm, pressing a tender kiss in the middle of your palm, then down your wrist.

you nodded with a quiet smile. your once constricted chest now felt as if spring has come after a long winter, and it was being guided by a chivalrous knight who solely craved to see you rise and bloom into the star you are.

“do you feel comfortable confiding in me now, star?” he whispered after he spun and dipped you down once more. the gleaming moonlight soaking your faces through the window as your eyes and hearts met. your gazes were soft and loving as a majestic setting found in the halls of a art museum painted itself before the two of you.

yes . . once again you’ll let this heavy heart go.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Really.

req: basically Luke and fem!reader being in a relationship but never actually slept together or in general he never saw her without a shirt or hoodie, because the reader is afraid Luke will be mad or disgusted by the scars on her arms. And the request is Luke's reaction to her scars.

Warnings: self harm scars, talk of self harm, angst to fluff.

MASTERLIST

You were terrified, really. It was in the past, yes, but what if Luke or everyone else in camp found them horrid, disgusting? The thoughts had always lingered in the back of your mind, you couldn’t escape them. You found no solution, so you hid them.

You’d always hidden them from him, anytime you even came close to anything that involved you taking your shirt or hoodie off, you ran the other way, trying to avoid such events from even happening.

It was a secret that had weighed heavily on your heart.

You were training with him, deep in the woods, hidden by all the forage. You smiled when you saw him, him giving you a small smile back.

His sword clashed with your own, you letting out a grunt as you put all your strength into your arm, pushing against him.

“You know,” he started, hitting your sword when you went to attack. “It’s hot as hell out here?”

You huffed, going to attack him again. “Yeah? So what?”

“So, why are you still wearing a hoodie?” He asked you while he disarmed you, your sword falling to the ground.

“It’s not that bad.” You mumbled, bending over to grab your fallen sword. “Plus, I like being comfy-“

“You say that every time.” He tilted his head to the side, his hands folded over his chest, sword training now forgotten.

“Because it’s true.” You groaned, looking at him. “I thought we came here for sword training, not fucking q-and-a.”

“I can’t ask my girlfriend a question now?” He raised his eyebrow.

“You can. Just not when you already know my answer.”

He shrugged, getting back into his fighting stance, you doing the same.

You both continued to spar, nothing out of the ordinary. That was until he knocked you to the ground, you wincing and missing the way that your hoodie sleeve had gone down to your elbow during the fall.

“Sorry, you okay?” He asked you, holding out a hand to help you up, when he noticed some strange marks on your wrists that faced up now. You grabbed your sword, and then grabbed his hand. You stumbled up, brushing off your pants.

“What was that?” He asked you, voice laced with concern, still looking at your now hoodie covered arms.

“That was you kicking my ass.” You snorted, confused as to what he was asking. You followed his gaze to your arm, and your heart skipped a beat. You looked back up to the boy, swallowing.

“No, there- there was marks- like scars, on your arm, y/n. What happened?” He asked, going closer to you.

You tried to laugh it off, play it off like he saw something that wasn’t there. But he knew what tone saw.

“There’s nothing there, Luke.” You spoke. His eyebrows creased at your response.

“I’m not crazy, y/n. What happened? Tell me. Please.” He responded, voice quiet this time, almost a whisper. His hand reached for yours, and he looked up at you.

You knew he was stubborn, and that he wouldn’t stop when it came to you. You tensed as his hands gently went to your sleeves, pulling them up slowly and carefully. His mouth went agape, and he swallowed the lump that formed in his throat.

He stared for what felt like an eternity, until finally looking up at you, your eyes teary, glossed over. You snapped them shut, body trembling.

“They’re old. I used to…” you sniffled. “Cut myself.”

“Y/n.” He felt like his heart had shattered when you let out a sob. He wrapped his arms around you, letting you sob into his chest.

“Hey, look at me, alright?” He murmured once your sobs had quieted down, his hand going to gently grip your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was scared.” You simply replied.

“You were scared of what?”

“That… you would be repulsed by them. Like… they would make you disgusted of me or something.”

He frowned at you, looking into your eyes as he spoke. “Y/n, this wouldn’t ever make me disgusted of you. I don’t think anything can, really.” He murmured, watching you sniffle, wiping your nose with your sleeve.

“Really?” You squeaked out. He nodded. “Really.”

You both stayed like that, in a comfortable silence. You felt the weight lift off of you, no longer burdened by it.

[doumadono]

EMERGENCY REQUEST

Hii, i was wondering if you could write platonic Aizawa emergency request in which hr has a daughter ho has veen strugling with self harm and su1cidal thoughts, please.

I had been really low latly and i relapes after 7 months of not self harming.

Thanks love 🩷

A/N: I'm so sorry to hear that you've been struggling lately, Nonnie. Remember, setbacks are a part of recovery, and it's okay to ask for help when you need it. You've made progress before, and you can do it again. Sending you love and support ♥

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST

Aizawa is incredibly protective and caring towards you, his precious daughter.

He always makes time for you, even with his busy schedule as a pro hero and teacher at U.A.

Aizawa is observant, noticing even the slightest changes in your behavior.

One day, he accidentally walks in on you wrapping your wrists in bandages after harming yourself, and he's filled with terror.

Despite his fear, he immediately approaches you, sitting down beside you on the bed. "What's going on?" he asks straightforwardly, his voice laced with concern. "Why are you doing this to yourself, sweetheart"

You look up at him, your Y/E/C eyes filled with pain and uncertainty. "I... I just can't handle it anymore," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. You explain that the pressure of hero studies and internships has been weighing heavily on you, and you don't know know how to cope anymore. "One day, I accidentally hurt my hand... and... it felt so good... like all my stress was relieved," you begin, tears streaming down your flushed face. "So I started doing this... from time to time... and... I couldn't stop... I was punishing myself for not being perfect, daddy," you say, your sobs becoming uncontrollable.

Aizawa listens attentively, his heart breaking at the thought of his daughter struggling alone. Without hesitation, he offers his unwavering support, reassuring you that you're not alone in this, his strong arms wrapping tightly around your trembling form as he offers you the tightest hug he can.

You hug him back tightly, whimpering, "I'm sorry, daddy, I'm so sorry!"

As you're held in his arms, you don't notice the tears streaming down Shota's face as he comforts you. He soothes you with gentle words and his presence, rocking you back and forth in his arms. "You're perfect just the way you are," he assures, clearing his throat to hide the hoarseness in his tone from the tears he shed for you. "We're in this together. You're not alone. We're a team. Always remember that you can come to me with all your problems, even the ones that seem small or irrelevant. Your problems are mine too. I'm your dad, and I'll do whatever I can to help you. Always."

You nod, listening to your dad's words. "I didn't want to bother you with..."

He interrupts you, shushing you, gently cupping your wet cheeks in his hands and making you meet his gaze. "You are never a bother. Never. You're my entire world, babygirl."

Aizawa makes sure to prioritize your well-being, adjusting his schedule to spend more time with you and offering words of encouragement whenever you need them.

He often says sweet little things like "I love you, sweetheart" or "you mean the world to me." He also praises your efforts, saying things like "you did very well on this test. I know you worked hard for a good grade, but even if it's not what you expected, remember that grades don't define your skills, knowledge, or spirit."

Through your journey, Aizawa learns to open up more to you, strengthening your bond and creating a safe space for you to express all of your feelings.

Even though Aizawa is hesitant at first, after realizing the seriousness of the situation, he doesn't hesitate to ask his friends for help.

And of course, they respond.

Hizashi visits Aizawa's apartment every day, bringing groceries and always having a little sweet snack for you that he knows you enjoy.

Despite the challenges you both face, Aizawa remains by your side, ready to support you through every step of your recovery journey.

[froggibus]

Hey can I request headcanons for overwatch characters and if their gf was drunk and asked them "would you still love me if I was a worm" with the overwatch men please (you don't have to do all of them but PLEASE include McCree and Reaper)

“Would You Still Love Me If I Was A Worm?” - Overwatch Boys

Includes: Cassidy, Reaper, Genji, Zenyatta, Ramattra, Hanzo, Lucio + Baptiste (w gn! reader)

Genre: fluff/kinda crack?

CW: general crack, kinda dumb tbh, suggestive in Genji and Baps, Ram is Ram (lmk if I missed anything)

been in a little bit of a writing slump but this was too good to pass up lol. I want to get a bit more writing done this week so who knows how that will go. anyway, enjoy <3 hope you like it anon!

————

Cassidy:

“what kinda question is that??”

looks at you in flabbergastation 

you pout and bat your eyes at him and of course, he breaks 

“you’re really not gonna let this go, huh? alright—of course I’d still love you, darlin’. I’d keep you in a lil jar and you could accompany me on my missions”

a jar????

now you’re the flabbergasted one 

jars don’t have air—he’s gonna let you suffocate?? 

what are you?? rainbow dash (sorry)??

somehow leads to him going out into the yard despite it being the middle of the night to try and find a worm

somehow finds one?? 

keeps it in a jar as a pet just to prove he would love you as a worm

even names it after you and pets it’s head and calls it “my wriggly little y/n”

weirdly wholesome experience would try again

Reaper

“of all the stupid shit you could have asked me…”

he says that but he’s already considering it after the question leaves your mouth 

would he love you as a worm? 

“what kind of worm”

what do you mean what kind of worm?? does it matter?? 

obviously the pink wriggly kind 

he has to ponder this 

sits in his chair stroking his chin trying to think of how you would be as a worm

“would you still be able to talk and think or would you be an actual worm”

????

“it would be me if I was a worm, Gabe”

more pondering 

“I’d love you platonically but you would probably have a short life span. I’d throw you a worm funeral.”

better than any response you could have expected but would not try again

Genji

“would we still have sex”

please hit this man

he’s joking of course—he’s not that weird 

“why would you be a worm tho”

just answer the question, Genji

green cyborg ninja dude has no idea what to answer 

will you be mad if he loves your worm self more than your current self?? would you be weird if he said he would love a wormy version of you??

“I would get myself turned into a worm too and then we could have a wormy life together and a wormy wedding and little wormy kids”

“you just want to have wormy sex” >~>

“that too”

at least he’s honest?

exactly as you expected, would not try again

Zenyatta

“a worm? like the insect?”

“yes? what other worms are there”

considers this

“is everything okay?”

poor omnic boy is so confused. are you planning on turning into a worm??? 

please reassure him it’s just a hypothetical and you’re not turning into a worm

goes on a ten minute tangent about how we are all the same in the Iris, and that he will love you no matter what form you take

honestly so wholesome + cute 

“i will care for you in this life, and the next, and all of the ones after that. even the ones where you are a worm.”

good enough would try again

Ramattra 

“No”

way to sugarcoat it, babe

it’s only when you get upset that he sighs and pulls you into his lap

“why would you ever become a worm? is someone trying to harm you? you know I would never let anyone bring harm to you.”

you try to explain that it’s just a hypothetical but he’s already going on a tangent on what he would do if you got turned into a worm

talks for five minutes alone on how he would defeat your enemies and defend your honour 

says he would “put you out of your misery”????

“you would KILL ME?!”

“as an act of honour”

babe….

0/10 would not try again

Hanzo

“why”

idk bro just answer the question 

lots of sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose

“would I also be a worm or am i still human” 

only gets more confused when you say he’d be a human and you’d be a worm

probably looks up worm life expectancy and if worms are capable of love 

“would you even know who I am if you were a worm”

has to ask a million questions before he can give his final verdict 

lets out a long sigh before looking you dead in the eyes 

“…yes”

cute in the end but would not try again 

Lucio:

“would you still love me if I turned into a frog?”

that’s not the question 

somehow it turns into a discussion on if he would eat your worm self if he was his frog self? 

he insists he wouldn’t and would let you ride on his back but you insist his frog instincts would be too strong 

“babe I’ve once seen you almost eat your own finger while eating chips”

“ok and??”

says you guys could live in a swamp together and he would protect you from evil

“I could be like your own frog superhero. I could even sing you little froggy songs”

makes up this entire life of you guys living together as a frog and a worm and him serenading you by croaking songs at night 

honestly it’s the best reaction you could have gotten, would try again

Baptiste:

“i would find you a cure and turn you back into a human”

honestly he’s very amused by this whole situation 

“but what if I want to be a worm”

“if I cure you and you want to turn back into a worm, that’s on you”

fair enough

insists he needs to ‘examine’ you so he knows you’re not turning into a worm 

makes a lot of jokes at your expense too

finally sighs and admits he would keep you in a little terrarium with all the food and nutrients you need 

“ha, so you would love me if I was a worm”

“love is a strong word”

good enough, would not try again

[idleoblivion]

"The Dismal Story of Our Creation" Malleus Draconia x GN Reader

Spoilers for Book 7!

Synopsis: Malleus has put the island to sleep, but the dream he puts you in is an especially unique one.

Word Count: ~1200 A/N: Thank you to everyone who sent me happy birthday messages! I hope to finish a few more drafts soon to make up for my absence. I loved writing him as a yandere, it just fits him so well to me.

Warnings: Yandere Malleus, captivity? (trapped in a dream), forced kissing

Something wasn’t right.

He’d done it. He overblotted. Putting everyone to sleep, leaving them to their dreams. For their own good, to make them happy. That’s what he had said. 

So why was this your dream? What had happened to you?

You remember catching a glimpse of the unconscious forms of your friends, sleeping under the power of his magic. You remember the fear that washed over you as you expected the same fate. And you remember the satisfied grin he wore as he faced you, and then everything went black.

Darkness surrounds you now. You are stranded in a void, an empty black space. No floor beneath your feet, no walls indicating you might be in some strange room. You hesitantly take a few steps forward, and then in another direction. Still nothing. You are walking through some kind of purgatory, left alone with nothing but an endless darkness and eerie silence.

Until you hear footsteps behind you.

You whip around to see him, uncomfortably close to you. Looming over you, with that same smile as before.

“What…what did you do? Where am I?” You question, trying to keep your voice steady.

Malleus’ smile still doesn’t falter as he answers you. “Our home, Child of Man.”

As he speaks, the space around you starts changing. You blink repeatedly as a room starts creating itself from the darkness, walls and furniture forming from the shadows before manifesting as real objects. Everything appears in the same gothic theme you’re familiar with from Diasomnia.

“What do you mean, ‘our home’?”

He tilts his head at you a bit, mirth still palpable in his expression. “I think it’s quite self-explanatory. This is where we will spend the rest of our lives together.” Your head is spinning as you process his words. “Malleus, what are you talking about? I don’t understand, you’re scaring me.”

He frowns immediately at that. He sighs quietly before speaking again. “My apologies, Child of Man. I suppose I’ve yet to explain myself properly to you. Please, fear not. I never would wish you any harm, you should know.”

“Child of Man,” He starts after a deep inhale, “I know this may feel sudden, but I must confess something to you.” He reaches for your hand, and you cautiously allow him to take it. “I…I love you. I care for you so dearly, my Child of Man. You’ve brought life to my life, brought me a kind of joy that I’ve always considered unobtainable for me. I’ve never known someone as kind, brave and sincere as you. I love you, from the bottom of my heart. So much that I don’t know what to do with the feelings you stir in me sometimes.” He grinned softly to himself. “You treat me like no one else does. You seek out my presence yourself, you look at me with fondness in place of fear. You’ve taken over my mind and heart, and I couldn’t do without you anymore.”

“So,” he continues, “I’ve created a place for us, and only us, my love. I’ve put much thought into it, and come to the conclusion that it would be difficult for us to be together in reality. It would be blasphemy for me to attempt to introduce a human as my partner in Briar Valley. As heir to the Draconia lineage and future king, such a thing would never be allowed.” His brow furrowed at the thought. “And on your end, the headmaster is searching for a way to send you back, to separate you from me. There are many obstacles to our love. This is the solution I’ve come up with.” His hand moves to cradle your cheek gently, staring deep into your eyes. It takes great effort for you to not tremble under the weight of his gaze. “There is nothing but us here. No Crowley, no other world to return to, no royal duties or expectations, nothing at all to disturb us. We will hide happily in here forever, where nobody can interfere with us.” You’re shaking now, fear coursing through your veins as you realize the gravity of your situation. You are trapped alone with him, in a space of his creation and control, completely at his mercy. And he’s seemingly decided you won’t be going anywhere.

“M-Malleus, please. I don’t…I don’t want this.” You meekly speak, your voice hardly above a whisper. You’re terrified of rejecting him, but equally afraid of what would happen if you accepted his advance. “I don’t want to be asleep forever. And what about everyone else, my friends-” “Do not speak of them.” His harsh tone cuts you off and makes you flinch. There’s a new darkness to his eyes that makes your legs want to buckle. You avert your eyes from his to avoid it.

“Look at me.” He commands. You don’t comply, too nervous to meet the anger in his expression. He grabs your face roughly and forces you to tilt your head up. “I said, look at me. Do not speak of them again. This place is for us, not them. Your life is meant to be spent with me, not them. Your place in this world is with me, not them. You will not mention them again. I will not allow any others but myself to occupy your thoughts. Do you understand me?”

Tears start welling up in your eyes as you nod slightly, dread heavy in your stomach as the weight of your circumstances only seems to keep increasing.

He stares down at your teary face, eyes wet and lips trembling. He still holds your face in his large hand. His eyes soften the longer he looks at you, and after what seems like an eternity he starts leaning in towards you. You don’t dare to close your eyes, scared of what he’d do if you avoided him again. He gets closer, and you hold back a fearful whimper as his lips softly press against yours. Your stomach turns as he holds the kiss, leaving you anxious and uncomfortable. He pulls back and meets your gaze once more. 

“You’re…ethereal. Perfect, so perfect my love. I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you. I’ve always wanted to claim you as my own.” He kisses you again, with more need and passion than the first. The tail of his overblot form comes to wrap around your waist and pull you into him, pressing your bodies together. His mouth is hot against yours as he kisses you with more and more fervor. His tongue slips past your lips and you let out a small groan despite yourself. He smiles against your lips before pulling away to press his forehead to yours. His demeanor had lost some of it’s intimidating aura as he looked at you completely lovestruck, strong hands caressing your back as his tail still held you in place.

“I’ll be all that you need, my love. I will be your entire reason for being, your entire purpose, as you are mine.” You shudder a bit in his hold, but if he notices, he pretends he doesn’t.

“This is my creation for us, dear. Our paradise. Doesn’t it make you happy?”

[mitsua]

Redamancy

Loving someone who loves you back.

🪼: so this was supposed to be an Izuku snapping at reader but I couldn't bring myself to write about this man being mad... I´m sorry not sorry but maybe in the future I could actually get that done. Maybe? Idk today I wanted to cry myself to sleep.

Warnings: rude people, mentions of self-depricating thoughts (but none explicitly written), low self-steem, crying

Genre: reverse comfort Series: Boku No Hero Academia

Pairing: Izuku Midoriya × GN! Y/N Words' count: 1.26k

Izuku's known as a selfless man, a selfless hero—your selfless hero at that.

He's always looking out closely while on patrol to do not let the slightest suspicious thing get out of his sight and catch danger in any form that may present itself, day by day.

People recognize him, greet him, smile polightly, shout excitedly, ask for a photograph with him, a signature—yes, his status has really given him a grand popularity.

But just as much as he greets back, gives small chats, returns a bright smile, shouts back, takes photographs and gives off signatures, he also encounters rude people every once in a while.

He brushes it off, he really tries to when it does so happen.

His first thought being 'they might just have a bad day, everyone has it!', always empathazing and letting people's disrespect get lost in the wind.

Until that wind comes back in a hurricane when the bad day hits him instead.

He brushes it off, or so he thinks. But he knows and you know too—everything anyone's ever told him got into him one way or another.

Thus making him the person you're so proud of to call today your husband, yes, you admit Izuku has this great mindset of turning the imposible—even if it's with tiny steps—a little more possible with progress.

He has a contagious positivity, you know it and he knows it.

'Then why can't I be positive today too? They need reassurance,' he thinks as he just got on a mission out of the city on places were being too powerful or too weak were seen badly.

He's tried greeting, smiling, but has only received scoffs and some offensive comments towards heroes in general. A tiny percentage of the poblation going too far and talking about him in specific being the last drop to spill the glass.

He gets in his hotel room—after being ignored by the workers when he entered and gave a small 'goodnight' out of his habit of being polite—plops in the bed and moves his hands to rest on top of his eyes.

'Don't cry,' he pleads himself. 'They're way more debastated here, you must show a reassuring attitude to let them see heroes mean no harm.'

A tear falls, then a second one and a third one.

It's not until he's fully sobbing with all the harsh emotions he bottled up in the day or even when he was still in the city that he hears his phone had your shared favorite song as your contact's ringtone that he stops spiralling further. A videocall from you.

"Hi! I just wanted to call to tell you goodnight quickly, I know you must be tire-" a sob. You heard him sob once, then twice.

"Izuku?" You got worried, he still hadn't said anything and he got his camera turned to the ceiling that could barely be seen due to the lack of light in the room.

Thinking he might have had a rough day you come up with a quick plan to help him.

"Hey, I know you're usually the one talking but I'll kindly request to do so tonight," you ask and even though he didn't answer either way you spoke again, "alright, and-well, I know I said I'll talk but I'd like to do something else as well..."

For a moment there was complete silence, then bed sheets being shifted around and a couple of grunts coming from your side. It gave Izuku's mind the chance to start wondering towards self-depricating thoughts again, until he heard something close to a documental.

"Aaand with that final blow Pro-hero Deku achieves victory and citizens' safety once again! ...Watch him throw his fist in the air meaning peace has been brought to us again!" A male commenter's vivid voice declared. "Deku helped a grown adult cross the sidewalk, look at this cute pictures!" Then a female's. "Oh, I'd kill to get Deku to patrol in my city," a foreigner's voice mentioned exhasperatedly.

You were showing him a copilation of videos fans of his had made of all his greatest and little heroic actions. Each of them spoke so highly of him—discussed and analyzed his movements and in-the-moment decisions through and through—just as he once did with the heroes he admired. He now was one of them, people admire him.

He could see and feel people's positivity reaching out to him, to help him too. By now, his tears had stopped, only a few sniffles could be heard.

"And last but not least," you whispered to do not break the comforting low volume tonight's call has had, "So, what do you think about Deku?" a reporter's voice. Izuku perked up at this and you internally celebrated you could see more of his face now that he's grabbed his phone with both hands and brought them closer to watch the video you were reproducing in your laptop.

He recalled that voice and that question. "The kindest and brightest people I've ever met, really." You answered.

This interview had been made by fans all across the country once the news about Deku's fiancé were leaked out. You turned to admire Izuku who had been surrounded with more paparazzi. The camera caught it all.

He remembered hearing that voice only faintly behind him.

You've both had been returning from a date and (un)fortunately been caught by a fan of his. People crashing into each other to get a hold of you two. They managed to separate you from him to interrogate you individually as on their plans.

But once he started politely answering some of their questions, he couldn't hear anything else than his voice and cameras' clicking.

You never told him they had interviewed you too, how could he not seen or thought about that?

Izuku observed keenly through the whole thing. You only spoke praises and your eyes, oh your eyes, they kept solely on his form.

Sure, you apologized a couple of times for going out of topic or speaking too much—'just as I'd do,' he thought—but kept on doing it seemingly in an unconscious manner.

"Why'd you choose Deku?" their last question. "Izuku, he has taught me about many good things in life I can no longer count them with both hands, he's been the sweetest and most honest being I've known-also, a greatly empathetic and understanding person, and for that I admire him even more, but also know about some of his struggles and as my love grows stronger each day my heart begs to help him, I want to help him too."

Your eyes got glassy as you spoke, the people got silent, internally crying for such words from you and both of you being so lucky for being with each other. As some started cheering you both and cooing, you'd made it closer to him until you could catch him by surprise in the middle of his last question with a peck on his cheek.

Then the screen turned black.

Now you both were sniffling...

"I love you Izuku, I really hope I can show you and help you just as much as you've done for me." You expressed firmly, closing your laptop and smiling through some tears.

"Thank you, thank you so much-I-I really appreciate I do-don't know what to say-" "-don't worry, there's no need Izuku, I, I just hope my message has gotten through..."

"It did," now that he had the screen closer, it enlighted a bit more his face and you could see him smiling too. "I love you too."

All writings' rights reserved © 2024 Mitsua. (Credit to the respective owners of the picture and tagged anime character.) ⌇ my navigation!

[queer-geordie-nerd]

I am nearly 40 years old and I've considered myself a leftist politically since I was old enough to form my own opinions. Have I always been a shining moral example? Definitely not - there have absolutely been times when I've had unexamined prejudices and been called out on them. It's deeply uncomfortable having to examine your own prejudices and to be told that you're wrong, and I get the instinct to push back.

But never in my entire life have I seen as much doubling down and ignoring of minority voices and as much mask off bigotry as I have seen this last month in reaction to Jews telling pro Palestine activists that a lot of what they're doing is blatant antisemitism and actively harmful to their community.

Absolutely, advocate and uplift Palestinian voices and draw attention to what is happening, because what is happening is utterly appalling.

But when you happily parrot genocidal slogans like 'From the River to the Sea' while totally ignoring anyone's attempts to tell you why that is so hideously problematic, when you unironically call for the total eradication of the only Jewish nation state on earth in a way that you never ever do for other nations whose governments have committed similar or worse crimes, when you happily chant shit like "Death to Zionist pigs" without the first clue what that word actually means (hint: it's not shorthand for 'evil barely humans who want all Palestinians dead' and it's incredibly disgusting to use it that way. Zionists believe in the Jewish right to return to and live on their ancestral homeland. That's it. That's all) then don't think for one solitary minute you possess any kind of moral high ground.

And when leftists who usually loudly proclaim the right of indigenous peoples to return to their land have the audacity to turn around and say to Jews "not you though - actually you're terrible and evil for even wanting such a thing. Never mind that the rest of the world has engaged in your wholesale dehumanisation and slaughter for thousands of years, your desire for your homeland is the bad thing actually" what is that hypocrisy but blatant antisemitism? Please, enlighten me.

When a Jewish person tells you are peddling in antisemitism, just shut the fuck up and listen.

A caveat to this is that I am not Jewish, I don't know any Jewish people IRL, none of this impacts me personally. But I am a human being, and will not and cannot stay silent about the hypocrisy and outright dehumanisation of other human beings by people who cannot for the life of them either open a history book or take the time to actually listen to the people this impacts and instead just perform their self righteous little dance.

[linos-luna]

hihi !! can i request a yandere!felix x reader thats kinda similar to the soobin one where he threw a tantrum and cried when she tried to leave? but with felix his tantrums are more violent for example like throwing stuff and hitting himself? this sounds so weird but i love felix

take your time i love your work !! 🩵

Thank you! 💕

———————————————————————

Tantrum 🔪

Yandere!Felix x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Manipulation, Yandere, self harm

—————————— 🎀 ——————————

Your boyfriend was too much to handle. You do love him but sometimes need a break. He throws fits at random and hates when you don’t give him attention. You decided to spend the weekend at your cousin’s house but you knew he wouldn’t be happy about it…

“Noona, where are you going…?”

“Baby.” You sighed. “I told you. I’m going to my cousin’s house.”

“When are you coming back? Why do you have your backpack?”

“Well I’m spending the night…” you replied while giving him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow okay?”

“No!”

Just as you turned around you heard your boyfriend’s yell and something slam to the floor.

You flip right back around only to see one of the dining chairs on the floor and Felix standing there with his arms crossed.

“Felix! What the hell?!”

“You can’t go!”

“Felix don’t do this.” You sighed.

“Why are you leaving me?!” He said as tears started to form.

“I’m only going for the weekend.”

“Why?!” He blurted out.

You were frustrated. He never lets you leave the house without throwing a fit. He hates when you go anywhere without him. Why cant you just go away for 2 days?!

“Baby…” you sighed. “I need some space.”

“Space?!”

“Yes!” You snapped at him. “Felix I need some space! A little break! Some time to myself!”

His fists balled up and tears started to forming.

“Don’t do this…” you groaned as you started walking to the door. “I’m not falling for it this time…”

“Noona don’t leave!” He called out. “Noona!”

You tried ignoring him while putting on your sneakers, only for him to slam his fist on the table.

Next thing you know, you hear glass shatter.

He must’ve knocked it off the table. He then took the other one and broke it by slamming it into the table. Maybe you should’ve put those wine glasses in the sink when you were done last night. Now he’s making a mess!

“Felix stop it.” You sighed while unlocking the door.

“No!”

As he yells, a glass flies by your head and shatters against the door, making you instantly turn around.

“Felix!”

“Don’t take a step out that door.”

“Your being ridiculous.” You said while crossing your arms. “You can’t control what I can and can’t do!”

Felix slapped his hand on the table, grabbing some glass that was broke from earlier, obviously cutting his hand.

“Baby, you’re going to hurt yourself!”

“You obviously don’t care!” He cried while flinging the shards in your direction. “You don’t even love me!”

“Of course I love you! Stop—”

“Noona hates me!” He interrupted while falling backwards on his bottom. “Noona’s leaving because she hates me!”

“I don’t hate you—!”

As your boyfriend cried, he took more glass shards and threw them towards you. You could see the cuts on his hand and some blood as well.

“Baby you’re hurting yourself!” You put your backpack down and tried going to him before he started throwing more shards at you.

You backed up for a moment, not sure what to do with him. He was definitely throwing a tantrum now.

“Felix—”

“No! No! No!” He screamed while shaking his head, now smacking himself and pulling his own hair.

“Felix stop!”

“She hates me! She hates me!” He repeated while punching his head then ripping out a tuft of hair. His crying was full of hurt and pain, not only from you leaving but also from the abuse he’s giving himself.

“Baby stop!” You pleaded while kneeling in front of him, trying to take hold of his wrists. “Stop baby! Your hurting yourself!”

Felix resisted grip and tried hitting himself again. He was strong and it was hard to control him.

Tears were forming when hearing him cry again and and you quickly hugged him tight, hoping he’d stop hurting himself.

“Stop it! Lixie don’t hurt yourself! Please stop!”

He struggled a bit before finally calming down, submitting to your tight hold, sobbing quietly into your chest.

“I love you… Noona loves you…” you whispered while rocking lightly.

“You tried leaving…” he said, voice muffled by your chest. “Noona wants to leave me…”

“No baby… I don’t…” you replied with tears rolling down your cheeks.

You let him go for a moment and he looked at you, face stained with tears and eyes puffy.

“I don’t like it when you hurt yourself…” you said while rubbing his head, feeling where he pulled out his hair. “Please don’t do that…”

He shook his head.

“Baby—”

He gasped in pain when you grabbed his hands. You totally forgot that they were cut up.

“Oh my god! Sorry baby! Sorry!” You said frantically while letting go.

He started crying again when you helped him up.

“Please don’t cry…” you said while rubbing his cheeks. “Don’t cry baby…”

“You’re not gonna leave right?”

“No… I’m not going anywhere…” you sighed. “You’re hurt…”

He nodded as you sat him on the couch and gently kissed his lips.

“I’ll take care of it, okay?” You said while looking for the bandages.

Felix smiled to himself when you left. It worked.

[adventuringblind]

Monsters in my Mind

Max Verstappen x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Sometimes those thoughts won't leave, the ones you don't want... The ones that can be dangerous. All it takes is one person to help make them go away.

Warnings: Intrusive thoughts, referenced/implied self-harm, violent thoughts, impulsive behaviors, panic attacks, non-sexual dominance as a form of coping, dom/sub undertones

Notes: My thoughts are self stabby as of late. Pardon me as I write this for myself to keep my head and hands busy.

Side Note: Consider feeding my praise kink maybe...?

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

The head is a strange place. One's conscious is usually meant to help them make the right decisions and not engage in acts that could hurt them or others. Her head, however, is the opposite of that.

It's a dark twisted place where thoughts that aren't her own find refuge. They want to bathe her in the ecstasy of things that shouldn't feel good. daydreams about things that could repulse any typical human being.

Sometimes they are so strong and her bodies reactions are so out of control, that she has to find relief somewhere. The knife against her skin takes the edge off. Is it normal to moan at the sting and feel satisfied looking at her red stained thighs? She does, until the realization settles in and the guilt won't let her think.

The thoughts laugh at her for giving in so easily. They scrutinize the fact she gets off on the pain.

She walks around in fear of herself. The anxiety and exhaustion from constantly fighting herself are visible on her body. She's tired, and everyone knows it. It's why they don't come near her. Always to caught up in her own head to realize people are trying converse.

It's not like her job requires to much discussion with people. Puzzles keep her brain busy and Ferrari keeps her busy with all the strategy mishaps they throw at her. They throw her a problem, she solves it, plans for next time, and they fuck it up again by not using the solution.

Sometimes she thinks about throwing herself in front of an F1 car going full speed. That voice in her head screams at her anytime she's close to the live track.

Then there is Max. His voice sends the thoughts running and it makes her want to cling to him. She wants him to never stop talking about anything and everything.

Today had been particularly difficult with the of the driver switch coming at the end of the season. Carlos and Charles are the first drivers she's worked with and they all got along great. She doesn't want it to change. That means more unknowns.

The wind graces her cheeks and kisses her finger tips as she sits on the balcony of their apartment. Everything is to much right now and her thoughts won't quiet.

She was in Maranello when the news came out. Her head became so loud with the fear of change and worry for her friend. Enough to be sent home for the day - alone, and nothing to help her head aside from the burning desire to just end it all.

Max had made arraignments for her to spend some time with him in the Milton-Keynes. She was still alone for periods of time. Enough to have to settle herself somehow.

The color red makes something in her relax. Specifically when it's flowing out of her own body.

Now Max is with her and she's stuck in her own head. The never ending maze of twisted thoughts keeps her from moving. The fear of giving in has been looming over her head for longer then normal. It feels like she's losing something, always has been with this team, but change feels far worse then staying with them.

Max hasn't pushed her to do much aside from at least stay in his presence. Occasionally attempting to get her out of her own head with movies and games. He's even spent hours at a time just talking to her about anything and everything.

He opens the door to the balcony, but she doesn't look at him. Not until he holds his hand out for her to take. An action she does without hesitation. No thoughts are needed for this, just following Max's lead.

He leads her over to the couch and arranges them so she can sit tucked into his lap. A grounding hand runs up and down the lenght of her spine. "I've been doing some research about how we might be able to get your head to quiet down."

"I'll do anything, jus' want it to stop." Her voice sounds dry and cracked from how hard she's screamed and cried through the last few days.

"Do you trust me?"

"More then I trust anyone."

She finds herself slipping off the couch and onto her knees, in-between Max's legs with her head resting against his thigh. His touch doesn't leave her skin. "You're doing so good for me. Listen to my voice and focus on taking big breathes for me. Can you do that for me?"

She hums in response. The continual stroke of Max's fingers against her face and sound of his voice already helping immensely.

"That's it, just breathe for me. I've got you; you don't have to fight the thoughts alone. I'm right here with you, keeping them away, never leaving your side." Max grabs one of her hands with his free one. her fingers lay between his. Her favorite puzzle with how easy the pieces fit together.

"You're here with me; I've got you. Those scary thoughts aren't your own. The are unwanted and uninvited, but most importantly, they don't define you. You are brave, loved, beautiful without gaping wounds. You're not crazy or psychotic. You are yourself, with your highs and your lows."

Her body has never felt like this. Her entire being wants to give itself over to Max. His breathes guiding her own, his gentle yet firm hold on her keeping her where he wants.

She lets herself fall under his spell. If Max can take the control away from her, make her complaint and relaxed like this, then he can have her thoughts too.

"That's it, such a good girl, let me think for you. I won't leave you to fight or flounder on your own."

She follows Max's directions, lets him guide her in this place of trust and letting go of things. He's turning her brain off and letting her float without any kind of worries except what Max is telling her to do.

Until all she can think of is him. The calm the comes with his presence and the way his voice falls over her like a soft blanket. Max is all she knows, occupying every crevice of her mind and leaving no room for anything else to creep in.

"How're you feeling, geliefd?" There is a lightness to his tone that makes her swoon.

She hums against his leg. "Warm, fuzzy, head empty."

"Then you stay here as long as you need, okay? I'll keep you safe."

And she does.

She falls into the warm embrace of Max's words. She lets him protect her and keep the dark ugly thoughts away.

With Max, her head is quiet. The voices can't come though. When they do, he's there to fight them back.