#I wish gullible weren't the same as stupid

[neverendingford]

.

[mellsfern]

I just had this worming in my mind and have to get it out.

Heads out, english is my second language so there may be some mistakes.

Henry belongs to @homecomingvn, Roachie you gave me the sick.

======

Ok, so imagine Henry with a darling who is a thembo. Just plain old lovable stupid sweetiepie. Henry has a big teddy bear that they gave Reader to initially gain their trust but when they started living together it got in the way.

Pairing: Henry Morgan(He/They) x GN Reader

====

You just loved the gift, you had that situation where you felt lonely in bed so you had to have something to hug. When Henry gave you that beautiful big golden teddy bear you were so in love with it. It helped you with exactly what you needed.

After some time however, Henry convinced you to live with you as some kind of roomie agreement, you didn't mind, he was the best friend you ever had. And since he was so good to you, you couldn't make a bland eye to his night terrors, he told you they were so bad that he couldn't sleep well. That the only thing that could make him sleep well was company, yours to be precise.

Of course, you couldn't deny his request, he had almost the same problem you had, only difference is that he got nightmares added to it.

On the first week, Henry said he slept well to you, but then he began to be a little mean about the bear he gave you. You were confused, he gave you that bear to help you sleep but now he was complaining that the bear took too much space on the bed, that it was too big and he couldn't take it.

You, as the gentle dumbass soul that you were, you asked him about it to really get the situation fixed.

—It's just that.... I get a little jealous— he told you.

After that confession, you finally understood him. You told him that you were sorry and that you would take his feelings more seriously.

===

Henry almost had a heart attack, but not like a painful one, more like a I-cant-believe-this-is-happening one, finally. You finally understood, he worked so hard to make you understand that they love you, he was so excited, he could die a happy man now. They could only dream about your future together.

He spent the rest of the day planning a good meal to serve you, a date night inside sounded so good. And to think of all the cuddles and affection they could finally show you, to finally tell you that you are the best thing ever and that they wish they could wish keep you and him together forever.

When he saw you come back, you had a big box, he figured it would be something you needed since you went to the room and left it there. They and you spent a wonderful night, he was fully confessing that he was so happy that you were together, confessing each and every thing in their heart.

After everything was done, you two went into the room, Henry was excited yet ready. He fully wanted to make you theirs today, but if you weren't in the mood or if you weren't ready, he could give you space. He respected your boundaries more than anything else, he could wait...

Big was his surprise when he saw not one but two huge bears on the bed. Henry was really confused for a moment and his face showed it.

—You said that you were jealous of the situation, I thought that maybe I was stingy with the bear.—You said, and Henry was warmed up that you bought something for him, giving him a gift on your first day of being a couple— So, when you said it. I bought this brown bear for you. So you could also have company on your sleep. —He was enjoying every word getting out of your mouth until that last part.

—What do mean, buttercup? You keep me company at night... and I love it.

He was confused, were you kicking him out of the room?

—Well, thank you, I also enjoy having my best friend sleeping with me. But I thought that maybe you missed this teddy bear and if I gave you one, you could sleep better on your own— Henry was so... he didn't even know what to feel. It all came crushing down again, he couldn't even be mad that you were so gullible because of that big smile on your face, thinking you were doing him a favor. Out of your will and heart.

—I'm sorry buttercup, I think you misunderstood me, I was... I meant the bed... you and me... y'know.

He was begging at this point, he couldn't ruin your goodwill and lovely gift. He didn't have the words to rip those beautiful giving eyes apart with telling you he was a disgusting beast that wanted everything. He wanted to do so much with you, he could go mad.

—OH, don't worry! I ordered a bigger bed while you get accustomed to the bear. You can still sleep with me, so you can avoid night terrors while you are on it.

Oh, they were gonna go insane. They wanted to break the wall with his head. You were being such an angel to him and he was thinking of fucking you moments ago. If he was a sane person he would repent in a church right away... but he wasn't, he had just enough of a dirty brain to lust for you and wanting to do so much to you... but he couldn't tonight. His leftover conscience was mawing at them to let this pass, to just say thank you and enjoy the fact that you gave him a gift.

And so he did. But one day, one day he would have you.

[tara-l-blackmore]

"Self", ink on paper; left: original with cropping; right: filtered with cropping.

I drew this during a time of retrospect, during a time in which my mind was just speeding over and over again, over the same crash courses, the same pains and problems, the same, the same, the same.

I am a weak person. This refers both to my mind and my body. My mind has always been week, susceptible to gullibility and overeager trust, but my body's collapse, while eight years in, is difficult for me to come to terms with, because as a child, I lived a life of a rubber ball: always able to bounce back from all I'm thrown against.

But I'm old, now. I don't mean age, anymore, though yes, it's up there. My body is old. Illness has aged it. I cannot reverse how badly my body has been damaged; it's permanent til death.

It's hard to accept this, as someone used to physical freedom for the first 26 years of their life. But here I am, and this is the way it is:

This pain is permanent, and it will likely kill me.

I'm not certain how. I want it to be natural causes. But sometimes, when I'm in the darkest of places, the worst aspects of my mind and soul, I yearn to give up, to stop feeling, to just go black, to make it all stop.

I've come close. Since Nim died, it's been a daily struggle, one that has eased with time and support, but one that is, like pain and depression, permanent.

It's ironic, in a way. As a child, I never thought to take care of myself. I never thought to be amazed by how resilient I was. Instead, I just kept pushing the limits, doing too much, and it feels like, by doing that, I've sapped my lifeforce dry. I don't have any to spare, because I spent it all as a child.

It would be fine, if that childhood was phenomenal. But sadly, those moments of wasted life weren't always my fault; in truth, there were countless times in which I would have to use that life to save it, in turn draining it.

Irony is never lost on me.

I'm not intelligent. I can string words together pretty well, and bullshit the rest, but I'm not a smart person. At best, I'm mediocre. At worst, I'm a buffoon.

As such, I can never truly ascertain why people react toward me like they do. The default is hatred; the rarest is friendship; the best is family.

However.

I'm too clingy. When I make friends with a person, I attach to them like a barnacle. But it's the kind that saps a person dry, of patience and kindness and love, because I need attention. I need affirmation. I need constant reassurance.

Because I'm so used to not being what kind people say I am. I'm used to being told I'm everything but worth anything.

But being too clingy means I tire people out. People are easily exhausted around me, and soon discover that what I give is not worth what they give me in return.

I've lost a lot of friends over the years, a lot of people I would've died for, without realising that I drained them dry, and without realising that I was no longer the person they thought I was.

When people see my true self, they leave. 7/10 times, they leave. Sometimes it takes more time than usual, sometimes it even takes years, but they leave. They leave, because they see that the charm I put on, the cheerful facade of fun and games, is real, but not real enough, and not enough to make me fun, anymore, amidst the rest of the bullshit that exists within me.

Over the past year, I've lost several people in my life for the above reason, people who shocked me by leaving. Their reasons were either good or stupid, but they were not the real reasons. I know the real reasons, and I wish they'd just been honest with me, and confirmed it, instead of lied to me, and hurt me even more.

I hate lies. I hate being lied to. Honesty is the most important thing to me, and it's something I take seriously. If I lie, it's either so minute it's inconsequential, or I don't know it's a lie and have been misinformed.

But I get lied to a lot. I never knew why, until I just wrote this out.

People lie to me because they can't stand me, and it's the only way to keep me away, because I keep clinging way too fucking hard. So they lie. Then they ignore. Then they ditch. Sometimes they go so far as to demonise me.

It's my fault; I'm too stupid and too trusting, too clingy and too pushy, too nosy and too open. I scare people away, because when I trust them, I show them all of myself.

And that scares most people away. Because there is ugliness in me (not just on the outside, durrhurr, fuck you), and it's too much.

And... I get that. I totally get that. I am too much. I am too pushy, too needy, too nosy.

I'm too lonely...

That's my problem. My loneliness makes me desperate, and I come on to strong, yearning for someone to please, please, please, treat me kindly, be my friend, accept my care and maybe my love (always familial/friendly). I'm so lonely that I refuse to see the red flags in front of me, warning me away from people who will break me.

Except... the people who break me are the people I love, sometimes the most. And that's when I fall.

It's hard to be this sick, and to have to also constantly sew my heart back up, again. It's... draining. It's... lethal.

It hurts.

I don't know why I wrote this. I guess to explain my distance, here, as well as in general. People have been reaching out to me, especially when I ask, but I flee, because all I can see is the inevitable heartbreak.

I know nothing is permanent in life. That's the nature of life. That's what makes it so precious, so fleeting, so... good, and so bad.

And I just want to live my life happily. It's taken years to admit it, but I'm not a lone wolf type. I'm not happiest by myself.

I love people. I love friends and family.

I love to love.

And I guess that's why I'm always fucking everything up. And why I drew this picture.

Sorry...