#i have cried so much today because i just keep getting burnt out to the point where i can no longer take care of myself because of college

[winniethewife]

You Can’t Always Save Everybody.

(Miguel O’hara x Spidersona!Scarlette Web)

Chapter 2

Last chapter ~ Next chapter

Words: 1129

Once Miguel and the others were finally free, they sent Gwen home, this was obviously above her level. Peter and Miguel went to Valentine's apartment only to find it mostly abandoned. Her things lay scattered all around, her books gathered dust, the kitchen empty, and all the blueprints for the gadgets she made for the spider society were torn and burnt around the edges.

“Miguel. Look.” Peter pointed it out, it was her old black and blue spider suit lay over the back of the couch left like she had gone on her last patrol as spider woman, only to leave again as Scarlett Web. Miguel held the fabric in his hand, his face a mixture of sadness, frustration, and anger.

“How the hell did I miss the signs? She needed me…” Miguel mutters mostly to himself. Miguel started pacing around Valentine’s apartment as if he could still find her there. It was a fruitless effort, but his head still refused to accept the reality before his very eyes.

“This isn’t true… not Valentine…” he whispered to himself, as his fingers held the fabric tightly the soft scent of her still lingering on it

They started to search the apartment for anything to help them find her. He was searching her bedroom while Peter was going through her computer in the other room. He about to give up before he found her diary. He flipped through it to try and see if there were any clues to where she might be. As he's looking through he is surprised to find several Polaroids of her and her Miguel, accompanied short journal entries.

A picture of her and Her Miguel dressed in typical gothic teen fashion in high school, He has his arm wrapped around her they’re both smirking at the camera.

“May 18th - Miguel has been calling me this really sweet nickname, Chiquitita. I really love it. I keep calling him Tiger, he thinks it’s funny.”

Miguel couldn’t help but feel his heart break as he read on. He looked at the few Polaroids, his heart dropping as he took in Valentine’s words.

“Chiquitita…” He hadn’t really thought about her relationship with her husband. She didn’t talk about it with him, but this other Miguel called her Chiquitita.

He flipped to a recent entry, no more polaroid pictures filing every page.

“August 4th- I don't know what happened today. Miguel wouldn't talk to me today. Barely looked at me. Did I do something? He's gotten really distant, and I’m trying to be understanding with everything that happened, but today he completely ignored me. I don't understand.” Miguel paused over the single sentence of the next entry. “August 7th- I must have done something terrible for him to treat me this way.”

Miguel could only stare at the page before him the guilt was eating him alive just from the thought of the pain Valentine must have felt.

“August 14th - This new tech I'm working on. It's beyond the ethics of the spider society. This stuff...is lethal. We don't kill people. At least not intentionally. Miguel hasn't been over seeing my work anymore he doesn't come to my lab anymore at all. I don't know why. But I know if he knew what I was working on. Wouldn't approve it anyway.”

“There might not be a way back for Valentine …” he whispered out loud, as he read on through the latest entries.

“September 1st- I don't know how I ever considered him my friend. Miguel went from ignoring me, to cruel side comments to, to this? Sending me on an anomaly mission entirely alone? No back up? I thought I was going to die. And I get back and he's just pissed I couldn't catch it. Yelled at me for like an hour. I've cried over him so often but this is too much. I can't cry anymore.”

Miguel remembers this fight. About a week before she left. Valentine had left because of their fight, where he had hurt her feelings. All of that time, and that was what finally broke her.

“September 9th- I killed a man tonight. I was walking home from the store. He tried to attack me. All I can think of is how Miguel would have reacted. Would he have wanted me to defend myself? Or would he tell me that I should have been more careful, and that as a spider woman I can't get away with things like that. I hate how much control I let him have over me.” At the bottom of this entry is a separate note, “APD-MERCY”

Miguel felt his heart sink when he read the last entry She killed a man. Valentine… Valentine was a murderer. This wasn’t a matter of getting Valentine back for Miguel. He failed at that, this was about stopping her. Peter came in the room with the laptop and a worried look on his face.

“you should look at this.” He says handing him the laptop. It was an article about MERCY, Miguel read it over.  MERCY was a type altering perspective drug or APD. These kinds of drugs are legal for recreational and medical use and are commonly available in this universe. But some kinds are harder to get your hands on. Depending on what kind you took for it would change your point of view. MERCY specifically was used in this universe's Military to help soldiers and veterans move past killing someone and to continue killing, it was unclear if the drug would convince someone who was unwilling to kill to do so, or just prevented the trauma that came with it.

“Dios Mio…If she’s using this…what kind of damage has she done?” Miguel wonders aloud

“I wish I could tell you, nothing like APD’s exists in any other universe we’ve discovered. We are going into completely unknown territory here.” Peter explains carefully, his eyes drifting to the diary in Miguel’s hands. “Mig…How are we going to get her back?”

“I don’t know if we can.” Miguel looks down at the diary again flipping back to the last Polaroid She ever took with her Miguel, they were at central park. It was winter, both of them wearing leather jackets with spikes and embellishments. Valentines raven hair pulled back under a beanie, a hoop in her nose piercing, she always wore a stud now, and a wide smile on her face, one he’d never seen before. This Miguel looked almost just like him, slightly slimmer, an eye brow and lip piercings, a hat pulled over his mussed up hair, he’s resting his head on top of hers, glimmering brown eyes, a smile that seemed most foreign to him on an identical face. He sighs. “But we’ll have to try.”

~

Masterlist

tag: @femmeanonymelives

[speedyslothboi]

I spent an hour making a flower crown today. I'd never made one before. It didn't turn out very good; clumsy knots and and sticky fingers and broken petals but I still put it on and smiled. I never got that kind of childhood. I wondered if this is what healing feels like: sitting on a picnic table, gently warmed by the sun, breathing in the world. I have so much to do (an ap psych test in three days, ethics bowl nationals and science olympiad state to prepare for, a read through for the play on Monday) and instead I went outside and listened to the birds.

Then I got home and cried. Because 30,000 people will never get to make a flower crown again (and how many never had? It took me 17 years. That's more time than many of them ever got). I haven't breathed clearly in 6 months; a weight on my chest and a pit in my stomach but for one hour, I felt like I could breathe, the smell of grass unfamiliar but comfortable (and how many died in that time? Trapped under rubble? The weight on their chests real).

I feel like I've been sitting Shiva for strangers halfway across the world but I'll die before I finish mourning (575 years is a lot to ask of this body). I'm not doing a very good job. But what else can I do but remember? I don't know know what to do with myself. I'm heartbroken and horrified and I am so angry. I go to school and hear kids talk about tik tok drama and I want to grab them and shake them and yell "how can you think about anything else? How can breathe around your guilt well enough to speak?" I feel like I know to much and too little, never informed fast enough. I feel like I'm grieving and like I have no right to grieve. I'm tired. I'm not doing well (I can't remember the last time I brushed my teeth and I still need to schedule my fillings and do my laundry and change my sheets) but I feel so selfish doing anything to make myself happy, like I'm stealing joy I don't deserve. And I know that I'm burnt-out (years into it) and that I have to take care of myself too but I just don't know how to carry all this grief. And this isn't about me (I'm making it about me, aren't I?)

This will be the first presidential election I get to vote in and I can't vote for him, I can't. And I'm scared. People keep saying it's selfish not to but I'm the one who will face the consequences. I'm one of the "vulnerable" people (does that make it self-sacrificial? Does that make it okay? To risk my communities if I am at risk too?)

Paul Alexander died three weeks ago. I can't stop thinking about him. (Most of the articles won't tell you why though; that one of the most vulnerable members of society was abandoned to a disease that has killed 3 million). I keep seeing inspiration porn articles about how he didn't let his disability "stop him" (I feel like I'm "letting" mine stop me). None of them mention "I love the sun, but I haven't felt it in a long time. It's lonely." (I feel lonely all the time but I didn't feel lonely at the park, with dirt in my fingernails. I don't really believe in heaven but I hope it exists so Paul can sit in the sun again). I think of Paul and I am filled with rage. 5,000 people die of covid every week; that's one person every five minutes (how is that okay? how could you abandon us for "normal"?) and I'm one of three people out of 2200 at my school who still wear a mask. I got the most recent booster two days ago (the one only the "vulnerable" can get as if long covid isn't becoming an increasingly documented mass disabling event. And the genocide is one too. And what about the countries we blocked from getting vaccines with patents. How dare we condemn the global south to suffer without vaccines only to stop getting them). And I need to buy more masks (yet another expense to exist while disabled) and they aren't free anymore so it's another 3 hours of work. Cases keep rising despite the lack of testing and wastewater doesn't lie. And whats the new variant? News isnt reporting on it anymore because "no one cares" (I care. I need to believe others would care if they knew. Maybe thats just wishful thinking) I still have at home tests but their negatives feel like taunts (a positive is a positive though, I remember)

I don't really have any friends. I have acquaintances and people I work with for projects but I don't want them to be my friends. My mom and my therapist keep telling me to reach out and do things with them (I know it would be good for me to socialize but doing so would put me at risk. They can't even wear a mask, and I'm supposed to choose to spend extra time with them?) Neither my mom or therapist wears a mask. (My mom fought for me when doctors didn't believe anything was wrong. Fought for 7 years to get a diagnosis and now she won't protect me.) I go to the doctors and even they aren't wearing masks (didn't you learn your lesson?).

I've seen people complain about "boycott fatigue" and I'm just wonder how you are surprised? I lost faith 2 years ago when people decided that disabled people's lives weren't worth discomfort (I used to value the nuance, how it isnt that simple. Now my compassion is shot. My empathy used up on three million deaths. But it is, isnt it? Simple that is. You just dont care enough). When the accessibility we begged for for years that had been "impossible" was suddenly "easy" when everyone needed and then taken away just as quickly. The second you could leave us behind, you did. So how could I be surprised people would do the same for Falastin? I love theatre, and I'm excited for too much light. But half of them will walk in with Starbucks on Monday (and none of them will be wearing a mask) and I know these people will never truly be my people (I resent them and love them but mostly I'm disappointed.)

I've been crying alot. I never used to cry. Sometimes I feel like that means I'm healing (some of the time I wonder if I have the right to heal right now). It's like this grief keeps overflowing but the world keeps turning (and how can everyone keep living right now?) and homework keeps coming and the genocide keeps happening and I need to get back to making my magma composition notes. (I left the flower crown at the park. I felt guilty about picking the flowers; that must be bad for the environment, right? How selfish, to kill things just to make a silly crown, and I didnt even do it very well. It fell apart within a minute. An hour of work crumpled in my hands. A moment of enjoyment stolen at the cost of life, what a bad vegan I am. Anyway, i left the flowers there, to decompose where they were born)

[ina-nis]

I feel very burnt out, both mentally and physically, but the physical issues will have to wait a few months until I can get them check out... either way, the emotional issues remain.

Therapist said that this could take several years - same as what last therapist told me, too - and that she didn't want to sound discouraging but... isn't that discouraging regardless? Any way, I told her I'm aware this is going to be a life-long process.

I already got so angry and cried so much.

This is not fair.

That I have been so hurt, so deeply by other people, over things that were not my fault or under my control and now I'm the one supposed to fix them by myself.

"But you're not alone!" Does it matter? Does it make a difference? Who is there with me, a therapist, really?

The next phase in my treatment is acceptance.

I got tired of fighting a losing battle, you know? I'm never going to win against this if I keep on trying to go face-to-face as I've been doing. I know that much now. It's likely there's no "winning" at all, and that's alright I guess.

If I get to a point where I'm able to actually live my life and enjoy my happinesses without a death wish, that's a victory for me. The pain will never go away, that's alright, I understand.

I've been troubled by my own feelings though: I keep engaged in love and romance in most things I do, in things I draw and read, and things I write and consume in general. That's definitely making matters worse, since I'm not avoiding the main cause of my pain.

Looking back at other things I used to do, ironically, they were very social activities that had nothing to do with romance. I did music-related things for fun, for myself and for the community I built around it.

A lot of that was also there to help me cope with an unsustainable living situation. Music gave me a quick and definitive escape from the hassle in my real life, and I never had to touch in these deep wounds.

Before music, it was my own stories and own universes and fantasies, which I engaged in romance quite a lot, but was escapism as well, of course.

Fast forward to here and today, as I started healing from all other issues, as I got into a safer place physically, naturally my mind gravitated towards love. I briefly experienced reciprocal love with my safe person at the time, too, so it's like I crossed a bridge that I'll never be able to go back to. I'm honestly thankful, I don't want to go back.

I just didn't imagine dealing with that loss would be so detrimental to me. But perhaps that was a loss that was loaded with... losses all around my life, that I probably have never processed. No matter what, it's out in the open and I can't go back. That's a good thing because I can try to do something about it finally.

If I'm trying to practice acceptance now, I wonder if engaging in these feelings will be just counterproductive? But it feels as if I were avoiding or even killing a part of myself if I do not experience them anymore.

Love is essential to me, to my happiness and to my well-being too. It's very hard, maybe impossible, for me to see romantic love as something separate from love because love is love to me.

Engaging in a fantasy of love feels good to me, always have. It's just not helping me cope with a lack of (romantic) love in my real life anymore.

When I see advice geared towards people wanting to avoid falling in love, or maybe being alright in singlehood, or accepting loneliness, or anything else... you're supposed to avoid love, since it is a trigger.

The other piece is disability.

Yes, I absolutely thought about trying to reconnect with music and maybe disengage a little from my romantic obsessions, or have a little bit of everything, instead of focusing so much on one thing but... it will just spread me too thin. I barely have the energy to do what I do, I cannot imagine myself engaging in a number of different things as a way to cope better, etc.

"Why not go back to music then?"

Yeah, why not? I asked myself this several times already and the answers were all similar: engaging in love directly makes me feel very fulfilled, music is something that feels more impersonal somehow. I love music and it's one of my favorite things in the entire world and yet, it's not something I feel deep in my core, as an inherent part of me.

Love does.

I wouldn't be engaging with love again if all there is was pain and triggers. Like I mentioned several times already: my feelings are not a mistake. There's a lot of suffering and there's a lot of joy, too. I want to find a way to make the joy worth living for, because as it is, the pain drives me to death, with how cornered I feel.

So... "several years" is a really long time to go on suffering with this horrifying pain, isn't it? That is when I choose the path to healing. I wonder how that will be now that I've chosen acceptance.

[miss-wanna-draw96]

The Beginning of a Cursed Fate - Original story

CHAPTER 1: I'LL BECOME GOD

The shadow cried again, wondering why this had to be the end for its kind. Its kin were not evil. They were only brought back from the shadows to show the humans their deepest and most treacherous sin. So why were they attacking its brethren? It wouldn't know, nor understand.

In a terrible moment, it saw its father, its caretaker, get ripped away from it. It called out, "Verak Toma!" The father screamed something out, something in a language it didn't understand, what did he just say? It was too frantic, too angry, too much for a little creature with no mother. And in that moment, no father.

A shadow being, a shadow of a a lady who was consumed by her envy. So the little child labeled her as "Envy", but that's not her name. It's kind do not have names. They weren't allowed to have them, it was deemed so by their flesh husks. And it had broken the rules. And yet, it didn't know that.

The shadow shrieked as a flesh husk grabbed its arm and started to pull it. The flesh husk screamed something at the child, but it didn't understand. Finally, the flesh husk pulled it to the chest and called out to other husks. The shadow of envy's wisps of smoke grew, knowing that she could not save it. She couldn't save the rule-break. Nobody could.

The chunks of flesh spoke words to each other, their mouths moving with ease and quickness. It was almost graceful in a way. One was barking orders at others in blue suits, face were masked. They held weapons. The child wept, silky tears of red ran down the shape of it's face, or what should of been a head, the absence of a head shape. The ones that held it began to match towards a large metal box with wheels and smoke emerging from a long metal pole. The stench of something unfamiliar hit what should have been its nostrils. Thr smell was burnt, dark and left a bad taste in its mouth. Gas from fire and a liquid it couldn't identify.

It shut its eyes tightly, and turned away from the flesh husks. The monsters whom took it away from its kin.

It never saw them again. Forever trapped in a laboratory with no contact with the outside world, or its kind.

---------

In the near future, the present, a boy with dark skin winced as a more fair tanned girl, his age, brushed his hair out. The girl let out a groan of frustration as the comb got caught in his hair again.

She shook her head and said sternly, "Maxwell, you gotta start taking care of your hair better. Every single goddamn time that I do this, the comb always gets stuck in your knotted hair." The way she spoke made Maxwell want to curl up into a ball and cry. She didn't know what he had to do to become who he was today. She didn't know the cost of the surgery, nor the pain he felt when it was over. Or when it began.

The boy named Maxwell replied, slightly upset, "Paige, I'll have you know that my genes make it hard for me to do anything, especially since my eyesight has gotten worse. As for my hair, I'll do better. Just next time you're in town, you get me the... 'Clean Bean' honey and milk hair products. It works well with my hair."

Paige managed to wrangle the comb out of his hair as he spoke, but she sighed quietly. She gave a smile to herself as she replied, "Yeah, I can do that for you. But you owe me for this." She teasingly punched his shoulder, he chuckled. At least they had each other, and her older brother of course.

"Yeah, yeah. I know." He paused before asking, "How is Nathaniel doing? It has been awhile since we've seen him." The smile from her face drifted away, then she looked away from his curious gaze.

"Nathaniel is still at his job at the family shop where mom and dad make him work to death and barely pay him anything! I'm trying to convince him to take a job at the local store near here, the bird shop, the one where Carson works at, but he refuses to because he's stubborn. He keeps saying that our parents need his help and I should help him too, but helping them is a total nightmare, Maxwell. He loves them too much to see the abuse that they put him through in the past and now. He just doesn't that they're using him and emotionally abusing him." It took her a moment but she caught her breath and continued her rant. "Carson and his manager, slash friend, James, are better than them and they pay better since they have a bigger shop and need new employees. I'm going to work there myself and I know that you're going to try to get a job at the daycare, which is fine because I heard that the other workers there are nice and the pay is fine. Just don't let anyone hurt you like my parents hurt Nathaniel." Maxwell had stayed silent throughout the entire rant she just told, because he wanted her to get her troubles and worries out. After all, roommates do that, and so do friends.

"I won't if you won't. Is that a deal?" Maxwell asked, his voice soft and comforting while trying to lighten the grim mood. And it miraculously worked. Paige held out her pinky and he took it in his own.

"It's a deal. Now, for the love of God, help me with your hair this instant before I lose my shit on you and your messed up, tri colored hair." Maxwell had burst out into a roaring laughter, and Paige followed quickly in his loud laughter. Their friendship was like no other where they lived. After a while, Maxwell and Paige had settled down besides she said, "I'm serious. Today is your first day working at the daycare and I want you to make a good first impression on them."

"Paige, I understand. Let's just pull my hair up into a low ponytail, okay?" A minor suggestion but Paige agreed to it. She took her last hair tie and started to brush his hair once more in soft and slow motions, until finally, she took his hair and slipped the hair tie on. She gave it a final brushing and stepped back.

"You're ready." She confidently stated as she stepped back from the metal stool he was sitting on. And like that, he stood up and glanced back to see her face.

"Thanks, I owe you big time for this." Maxwell took his sunglasses and sat them on his head. "I'm going now. Have fun convincing your bro to quit, I believe in you."

And like that, he left the dormancy, leaving Paige alone.

Well, for eleven seconds at most.

Paige turned around only to yell at a disfigured humanoid creature hybrid on her kitchen counter. The creature was terrified, eyes wide like a dog. The creature had a chain around its throat and around its wrists. That's when Paige noticed the scars on its body. The inside of each wound was a rich shade of black. Definitely not human. A shadow being had broken loose from its confines from a laboratory the government hid from people like Paige.

In perfect English, it whispered, "Are you... Paige Lockhart? Kin of Nathaniel Lockhart?"

-----------

A/N: Chapter name comes from the song "Shadow's Art" by Vane Lily. Give it a listen to mostly understand the entity in Paige and Maxwell's dorm room.

Notes: I do hope you enjoy this chapter and my story. This is no longer connected to TMC or anything like that. I pulled a Plushstarfever and made the characters OCs because you know what? I can do that. And each chapter will be as long as I want. Now, I'll outright say this: I'm inspired by @/mustangs-flames and @/missr3n3 on Tumblr. If it wasn't for them, this story wouldn't have existed, nor the reboot of the story. So, if they're reading this on Tumblr, thank you both for being so talented and amazing. You both have given me the strength to write more and to just write whatever I want in general. Thank you.

I have given both Nathaniel and Paige designs that I'm proud of and I'll post them in a new and separate art book (and on Tumblr). Love y'all ^-^]

[kohicat]

Dear you,

There are times when I’m so burnt out and overwhelmed by my worries that I just start to feel sad about where I am in life. The times when my thoughts just spiral and I start to overthink everything. But then I remember that I have you in my life right now and suddenly the heaviness I feel starts to lighten a bit.

You’re always there by my side to listen to my rants, my ramblings, and even my literal cries. You just stay they and tell me that it’s okay to cry. I appreciate that so much. I’m the kind of person who tends to keep things to herself, but with you, I feel so safe that I can just be vulnerable.

I really can’t explain why but when I see you, I suddenly feel less stressed about everything. You truly are my stress reliever.

We’ve been together for 10 months now. Can you believe it? Time really flies with you. I still get the butterflies every time you smile. I like seeing you happy. It warms my heart.

I know we can’t spend time together today because of all the busyness, but I can’t wait to spend time with you tomorrow.

내일 봐요, 내 사랑! 보고싶어요! 영원히 사랑해요!

Yours,

C

[thedoverbitch]

A Quiet Life For Those Who Are Insatiable

Recently my For You Page is filled with slideshows of people sharing their "quiet life". These slideshows includes pictures in nature, warm drinks in cute mugs, books, phone calls with parents. A quiet life is something soft. Something safe and personal. I'm aware that social media is extremely curated. These are the best pictures people could find and they've edited and arranged them to look "aesthetic". But a quiet life doesn't seem that unattainable. It's an existence where life is something you live, not something you fight for.

This trend made me realize that my life is far from quiet. It's breathless and ruthless and I am always starving for something. Since I was a child I have been ridiculously ambitious. Once my mother told me that I would have to miss ballet because we were going to a friend's birthday party and I cried. I told her that if I missed class my teacher wouldn't think I was dedicated and I wouldn't be moved to the upper level. I was eight.

Ballet was where I directed all of my insanity for about sixteen years. I went to three different studios and took private lessons just to get enough training. In the fall I spent every weekend at Nutcracker rehearsal, then every weekend in the spring at auditions until concert rehearsals started up. In the summers I'd spend weeks at prestigious summer intensives where I would sometimes be on pointe for six hours a day. Needless to say, this lifestyle wasn't sustainable. I tore both of my patella tendons and was out of dance for six months. My scoliosis worsened to the point where dance became excruciatingly painful. By the time my teachers wanted me to audition for professional programs, I was burnt out and had done permanent damage to my body. So did I learn my lesson and chill out after ruining my ballet career before it even really started? Of course not, I just redirected all that ambition into my academics.

There's a fire that lights in me when I have a goal. There's a look in my eyes, a feeling in my chest when I really, really want something. When I'll do whatever it takes to get it. My ambition and the standards I hold myself to have gotten me to where I am today, and I'm grateful for that. But now good isn't enough. I've been good before, now it's just my baseline. I can't just be good, I have to be perfect. I have to be once in a lifetime. Even when I'm awarded scholarships for being "outstanding" in my department or get A's in all my classes...it's not enough. Nothing I do is ever enough.

So my life is not quiet. My life is a constant bellowing voice in my ear pushing me to be more even when I am exhausted. Reminding me that I will never be as good as I once was and I'll never be as good as everyone else. But I imagine it. A life where my success doesn't rely on the parts of my life with a score attached to them. A life where I am gentle and soft, where there is no fire or ash. A life where, like Mary Oliver said, I do not have to be good, I only have to let the soft animal of my body love what it loves. A life where one day I won't look down and find my own blood on my hands. Where I won't try and fail to scrub it off calling "out damn spot!" and knowing my ambition has run me to ruin.

I know my cautionary tales, I do, but I'm still insatiable. I worry that I'm incapable of being satisfied. That I am not good enough for anything and nothing is good enough for me. I worry that I ruin everything, no matter how much I love it. That the very loving of the thing, is what makes me destroy it and myself in the process. I want a quiet life. I don't want to keep killing everything I love.

[heartfucksmouth]

not to sound like a broken record cliché, but motherhood is truly the most difficult and beautiful thing I've ever experienced.

I'm constantly fascinated by my child, I can't get enough of kissing his face and head and smelling his scent, holding his tiny hands or massaging his little toes. I'm in love with his bright curious eyes and the glimpse of a smile passing over his face.

and I'm also overwhelmed and frustrated when he cries for hours and won't sleep for more than 20 minutes all night. I'm terrified when he suddenly spits up so much formula it comes out his nose and he can't breathe for the longest 10 seconds of my life. I'm anxious when he isn't near me, and I get waves of distrust washing over me whenever someone else is caring for him so I can sleep. I have moments where I question what I've done, whether I've ruined my life - or his, I search my mind for ways of escaping and I scare myself with scenarios of grandparents taking custody of him bc I'm unfit. I make myself cry picturing Myles trying to raise him by himself without me.

6 weeks post partum. 1 month and 11 days. I'm finally asking for my meds to be adjusted bc I feel I'm barreling head first into PPD/PPA and my high blood pressure is back. I just got a new therapist that also is a parent by my request, and she called me today bc she wanted to check on me. my mom has been here most days to let me catch up on sleep, but she talks about her life and freezes when I have moments of anxiety and actually look to her supposed parenting experience for comfort and help. it wounds me deep. and myles mom takes Aidan for hours at a time, so I can sleep or shower or eat dinner with myles, but its not always to my liking because I fear she'll hold it over our heads someday - or she secretly thinks we're incapable of being parents. I get help with Aidan every day (while others do it all by themselves) and yet I feel so alone and like no one will come to my rescue when i need it. all the offers of help during my pregnancy seem to have disappeared. I wish friends would offer to come instead of the mothers I have relationship issues with. but then... who are my friends, really? my therapist says how I'm lucky I have all this support but it feels like a gut punch and I need to tell her next time that I don't feel like I have support at all. when I go into panic attacks, I message multiple people reaching out, asking for encouragement, for validation from other parents. but I don't have anyone checking in on me or offering to get together or even offering to help in a physically present way. besides my damn mom. my therapist and psych nurse are like "I'm always here for you, reach out" but they don't mean "text me at 3am if you're having a hard time" - they mean "call my extension and leave a message and I'll get back to you when I can"

the pendulum of my emotions is swinging so wildly and I just want some balance. I keep getting told everything I'm experiencing is normal, but if that's the case, there's something very fucking wrong with the way we treat motherhood, pregnancy, all of it (and there is).

I hope a med adjustment will help me, and I'm trying to reach out and build a village of my own. everyone talks about mental health, and recently PPD etc but everyone is burnt out and dealing with their own overwhelm and everyone is a breath away from a crisis. it all just feels crazy. I want to feel hopeful again. I want to feel like the world isn't on fire.

[regular-lord-reckoner]

i have done so much goddamn crying in the past few days and it just keeps going

i know it's ridiculous to be this weepy over ~good news and my dad's condition looking more hopeful, but it also just means that everything i was building towards mentally is just ??? and now my life is ???

it's like every single fucking time i try to hold on to hope about something or get all invested in some bullshit future i hope i get to have it gets forcibly pulled out of my hands and i'm pushed back onto my ass where the only thing i'm allowed to do is take care of other people and experience grief

i know it's selfish but i just want my own fucking life already!!!!! i'm so sorry i wasted a fucking decade being burnt out beyond my limits and struggling with another grief and i didn't already have my shit together but i want it now so fucking bad because i can't stand what i'm currently having to deal with and now there's just...no end in sight anymore

even though the previous end was shitty and awful it was at least like...reassurance that this won't be forever and there's a light at the end of the tunnel and it's finally getting to try to make my life into something i can stand but now it's just like....welp!!!

and i'm still trying, i'm not going to give up, but it's so fucking hard trying to carry so much around all the time and the only thing i ever want is just a chance to recoup and recharge but there's just never time or i take too long to do that and there's thing i gotta respond to now, now, now!!! life doesn't stop, it's never going to stop and i can't ask for it to and am trying to hold on and stay positive and be a cheerleader for shit i don't know i even believe in but i'm so fucking tired

i had to pull into a wal mart parking lot after my therapy and just sob in my car for a few minutes and i still cried on the way home and am crying now because i'm just so.fucking.tired.

if nothing else, i guess, if i can just get through the rest of work today i'm officially on vacation and hopefully i can catch up on sleep and be allowed to recharge my social battery at my own pace and can just...i dunno, do anything besides worry about how i feel like i'm always going to be fucking stuck in this exact same place just withering away while everyone and everything sucks the absolute life out of me until there's nothing left and maybe then i can at least know some peace

[beck-a-leck]

(Tumblr is being poopy and won't let me answer an ask so screencapping the ask and making a different post)

Here you go, Nonny! I hope you enjoy! Some Alice and Martin getting some sage advice from the Most Married Couple in town.

💜💜💜💜💜

Alice woke in a foul mood. No surprise, given the state she’d gone to bed in, but part of her had hoped that a night’s sleep, even if it was poor and broken, would have helped her mood a little bit. It hadn’t. if anything, it made her feel worse. She cried in the shower, angrily going over harsh words spoken the night before, thinking of better retorts and planning further arguments. She made too much food for breakfast, too used to cooking for two, and dumped the extra food in the trash. Eggs wouldn’t keep well in the fridge, and nobody would eat the leftovers anyway. She clomped down the steps to the office of the outpost and must have looked as prickly on the outside as she felt because neither Scarlett or Livia commented on the explosive argument they must have overheard the night before. With her patrol schedule assigned, Alice walked out of the outpost in something of a haze. She pointedly did not look up the road to see whether Martin was coming out of his house to go to the smithy for a day of work. As much as she missed her husband, his face was the last Alice wanted to see at that moment. She was still mad at him.

A full day of work later, her anger had finally burnt out. After patrols around town, and escorting travelers through dangerous territory, and clearing out an unexpected nest of violent monsters, she was exhausted. Emotionally and physically drained. But Alice didn’t want to go home. She didn’t want to spend another night alone. She was also too stubborn to go seeking out Martin to apologize. Alice knew she owed her husband an apology, but she knew he also owed her one. Alice put her head in her hands. She had a headache. She couldn’t even remember how the argument started, but it had been one of those times when enough little things piled up until the last straw broke the damn and everything came out. Nobody was right. Nobody was wrong. There was no winning an argument like they’d had. If Martin hadn’t finally stormed out they might have gone on yelling at each other for the whole night. People who loved each other weren’t supposed to fight like that, right? What did that mean for their marriage? “Alice? My dear, are you all right?”

Alice hurriedly sniffed and scrubbed at her eyes. She hadn’t heard Yuki walk up the path. “I-I’m fine, Yuki. Sorry, did you need something?”

“Well, yes, I came to check in on you. You haven’t been yourself today. People are worried.”

Alice felt even worse. She hadn’t realized her sour mood was bad enough to worry people around town. Yuki settled in on the bench beside her.

Not wasting time on small talk, Yuki cut right to the chase. “Scarlett mentioned you and Martin were fighting.”

“We had a bad argument last night.”

“Bad enough that someone slept on the couch?”

“Bad enough that Martin went back to his old house last night.” Alice sighed, and then a sob bubbled up from her chest, and then she was crying to confessing everything to Yuki.

The old woman patted her back soothingly and offered a handkerchief when Alice needed to wipe her eyes.

“I’m so scared, Yuki, what if this is the end of our marriage? What if we made a mistake marrying each other.”

“Do you feel that way?”

“No, but what if Martin does?”

“Has he said he feels that way?”

“No.”

Yuki patted Alice bracingly on the back. “Couples argue, Alice, a fight, even a bad one, isn’t the sign of a bad relationship. When you love someone so much, you know just the right things to say to hurt them the most, and they can do the same. You should have been there for some of the fights Randolph and I had when we were younger. There were times I was in the same place as you… times when I thought maybe this was it.”

Alice sniffed. “What do you do?”

“We took the time we needed to cool off. Then we talked about it. Didn’t always end in a hug and a kiss, sometimes we made compromises that ensured neither of us were entirely happy, but we always moved forward knowing that our love and our marriage was worth the work we were going to put into it so we could be together for the rest of our lives.”

“And what do you think I should do?”

Yuki thought for a moment. “I think you should take the time to look at things from Martin’s perspective before you talk to him. He’s not a cruel man, he doesn’t say unkind things for pleasure. If he said those things to you, he must have some reasoning behind them. You know him better than anyone. Take a minute to get into his mind, and then once you’ve done that, talk to him.”

“Thank you, Yuki, that’s good advice.”

“Hard earned from many years of experience.” She chuckled and got ho her feet stiffly. “I’ll leave you to it, dear. Oh, and Alice, a little apology present never goes amiss at a time like this.”

Alice thought for a moment longer before getting to her feet with renewed determination. She was exhausted and it was beginning to get late, but there was enough time and energy left for her to run one quick errand.

She finally returned home late in need of a shower and some dinner, but with a pocket full of quality ores. She’d done what Yuki suggested, and had put herself in Martin’s shoes as she hammered away looking for ore. It reminded her of one of their first dates, and that help her stay in a generous mood as she worked. She had turned over their argument and looked at it from every perspective, and she believed that now she was ready to talk it through. Now she just needed Martin to be ready to talk too.

 As she climbed the steps to the second floor, she found herself wishing she’d kept the breakfast leftovers because she didn’t have it in her to cook anything else today, nor did she have any desire to go to the restaurant. The scent of cooking food greeted her, grilled fish and seasoned vegetables frying, and something sweet in the oven. Martin was in the kitchen.

Their eyes met and they both looked away embarrassed.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” Alice responded.

It was like they were strangers again.

“There’s still about thirty minutes left on dinner… if you want to get cleaned up first.”

“Okay.”

Alice showered and changed into her pajamas and came out just as Martin was setting dinner on the table. He’d set two places. They ate in uncomfortable silence. Martin cleared the dishes.

“So… we should talk.” Alice broached cautiously. If he wasn’t ready for this, they would just end up yelling at each other again.

“Yeah.” Martin dried his hands on a dish towel and leaned against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms tightly.

“Can I go first?”

Martin nodded, and Alice aired her grievances. She went over everything she’d thought to herself all day while she was working, and what she’d thought about after her talk wit Yuki. She finally ended with tears brimming in her eyes, “I don’t understand why all of a sudden you think I’m some precious porcelain doll that needs protecting Martin. I’m more than capable of taking care of myself now, and that won’t change in the future. You know that. You know what I’m capable of.”

“I know,” Martin sighed. “I’ve been unfair to you, I know I have. Alice, you are so precious to me.” And then he took his turn explaining his side of things. Giving Alice a look from a perspective that she hadn’t seen in her earlier musings. It showed her how much more she had to learn about Martin in their many future years together. “…You… you make me feel safe, did you know that? You give me this sense of security that I haven’t felt in a very long time. And I hate that because of the way it makes me think of you. I stop seeing you as a person, as my partner, as the love of my life, and I just see you as… as a security blanket. It’s not fair for me to put all of that on you, because you are your own person. And I hate that I need you so badly to feel safe. Because what if I lose you someday?! I… Alice I can’t lose anyone else close to me. People can just disappear forever, and I am powerless to stop it! But damnit, I try anyways, don’t I? And where does it leave us?”

“Martin…” Alice crossed the kitchen and wrapped her arms around her husband. He held her tightly, burying his face in her neck.

She hadn’t thought about this. Hadn’t thought about how the loss of his parents as a child would affect him now. Sometimes, because Alice could not remember her childhood, she forgot everyone else could remember theirs. They had histories that were more than a few years deep. They had depths to them that would take time to uncover because that’s how lifetimes were supposed to work.

Alice couldn’t, and wouldn’t, stop her work as a SEED Ranger and Earthmate. There were some dangerous tasks that only she could do. But to ease her husband’s fears, she could take efforts to be more careful. They could work together to craft the best armor for her.

They could move forward together.

It wouldn’t be easy or neat, but it would be worth the effort.

Alice pressed her forehead against Martin’s. “I love you so much, you know that. Marrying you has been the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“I know. I love you too. And I’m sorry. I hate fighting with you.”

“I do to… let’s just promise that when we argue we’ll both take five minute to calm down before things go too far. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” They kissed and held each other close.

[sweetswesf]

Check In

What I Did Today

Prayed

Cleaned my produce & packed up my fridge I just cleaned

Had a call with a recruiter from one of the companies I'd like to work for

Chatted with an old friend

Cried tears (happy & sad ones) watching muva

What I Learned Today

A serving of udon has the same amount of carbs

Not today, but recently, peaches are TOTALLY a summer fruit...learning to appreciate eating produce more seasonally as opposed to being mad I can't get certain foods year round

I need to buy some chili oil

the company I want to work for's interview process

Tumblr FINALLY added an auto save function because their site keeps crashing on long post edits

I had been real irresponsible with my produce: so much dirt that I thought a quick rinse would fix

Feeling

I did have the runs today, but not a severe headache sooo...need to figure out what's up...

Honestly, angry. Sad. I have such a ball of emotions. Can’t trust anyone. Feel out of control. Burnt out but feel such an urge to perform and do what I’ve never felt before; had a nice dream of an old friend that is enemy, but they were not AT ALL in my dream; today an old friend, but different from the one in my dream, who broke my heart hit me; there was excitement, then relief when I thought I would be able to relate to someone in a real vulnerable way who has known me before moving here to San Francisco who isn’t my pastor mentor, but then crashed when I realized it wasn’t that at all and he was just hitting me to stroke his ego because he knew he could manipulate me in that way…and I fell for it…and I stress ate, and didn’t start today like I wanted to, and then I hopped on LinkedIn and read a post from this ex-Amazon VP that basically said, if you were let go, you are expendable, and he was right, and then I just felt so much embarrassment, and questioning what I want to do with my life or where I want to be, because I have not been happy since like June 2010…and I’m so frustrated at my family for abandoning me and I really just wanted to run away, but to where? And hating all the entitled ass white neighbors I have and not knowing where I want to be in the world, not knowing if I will find peace here; and I’m tired of having random headaches; and I’m tired of people just inserting their way into my life and just not even listening to what I am saying, just trying to “fix” me in their way; I am grateful for what I’m going through and know that it is a rough time and things will get better, but I’m just so tired

Takeaways

I should follow more recipes; I made a bomb ass udon from Pinterest:

Goals After Today

Strengthen my relationship with God

Understand the main concepts I need to from Interview Cake, AlgoExpert, etc. in less 3 months

Drop my body fat percentage

Use social media/YouTube less

Improve my relationship with my family

Be more confident & faithful

Move more during my day

DRINK MORE WATER!

Get back on the ball

Be kinder to myself and stop guilting myself if my energy isn't always on 100%

Go on a date with a guy I actually like who actually likes me too

Find a therapist

Figure out what keeps making me sick...

[starrjournals]

y’all i’m literally crying… i went to the management office for my apartment to fill out forms and they told me that i owe back rent. i was overstimulated x1000 bc there was a couple there who had their daughter on the phone translating and they were trying to figure out what they needed and they were loud and i could hear the guy i was talking to in the office talking to the property manager about me. i was literally looking everywhere and trying to stay calm bc it was a lot and then hearing the lady say she owes rent made it worse bc i knew it was abt me??? and the guy handed me the paper and i was trying to read it but he sat down next to me and it made me uncomfortable and he was just watching and waiting impatiently for me to sign and something in me was like don’t sign this but he made me so nervous just peering over my shoulder and watching for me to sign like i couldn’t even read the paper bc it was too much. the most i did was ask for copies bc when i tell u i never got this paper bc i keep all the papers from the office in a binder together. and when i told the guy he was like oh well you know mail gets lost on the way sometimes? like oh because it got lost on the way to me now i’m required to pay it back? like if i knew that i had a set rent to pay then i would’ve paid it. i’m so upset and sad and mad and want to cry again. i literally exited the building so quick to go home so i can cry in the comfort of my home. like i was barely keeping it together. i cried for very long. like it just kept going. writing this is making me teary eyed bc i just got hired for a job but i haven’t started yet and it’s barely a job tbh the shifts are 2-3 hours at most and i’m getting paid minimum wage. like yes i am grateful for this job opportunity. but now i am incredibly sad bc i can’t work a lot bc then i get so burnt out and my mental health suffers so much but then if i don’t work i don’t have funds for the things i need. i’m literally going to cry again. it’s really not a world for autism like i genuinely cant go back to forcing myself to work to the bone just so i can afford to pay rent. i’m imagining it as (in announcer voice) in one hand we have the basic necessities needed to live: housing, food, clothes. and on the other hand we have: mental health/audhd burnout!!! which will it be today fellas??? it’s not funny and i’m not using humor to cope but yea this is what it feels like. why do i have to choose to be able to take care of my mental health or be able to live and not be unhoused??? i don’t want to live like that. i won’t and i don’t know what i’m going to do but i refuse to live like that. i want to be passionate in what i do and be able to take care of myself. i’m so sad. i know it’ll get better. i have faith in that but for now i’m sad. if u read all this thank u. i do appreciate it.

[ineedtopopmyzit]

I think I’m going to sleep p late but I feel the need to write this down. Today I broke a barrier with dance. Well it was more of a choice to break a barrier. I didn’t mean it to but something in me put a purpose with what I was doing. And part of it is that it is such raw emotions that I feel vulnerable even writing this on my journal. I went to a dance session today. The session involved a lot of free dancing. Supportive vibe and no judgment of any kind and a lot of acceptance. That led me to freestyle in front of people. Up until a certain point I wasn’t going to. I hadn’t even freestyled in front of a mirror by myself but I felt led to do it. And idk what it was in me but I cried introducing myself. I guess I was trying to articulate what dance means to me and it got me in a hard place thinking about how much I love dancing and I much I love myself dancing. So I wanted to get into that and I was trying to articulate a story that conveyed my fear. Because I was feeling a lot of fear. You could say that I danced until I couldn’t anymore. I did dance my heart out. And it was freeing and it was really nice to feel supported. I still feel weird thinking about that moment when I was dancing in front of people. And I do feel embarrassed so in that way having support was really nice because it’s hard to support yourself fully. I think back on my dance journey and I see myself having a lot of fear of not being good. So I’ve always resorted to being goofy. But yet I was always feeling bad about how not of a good dancer I am. Or how I am not in a place that I want to with dance. So I’m trying to change my approach to dancing. Where I don’t wanna feel burnt out trying to perfect the way I move. I just want to move and I just want to feel good about myself moving. And however I feel to move, I want to commit. I want to trust myself and not on other people’s reaction of me but I want to be the first one to admit that I am good before anyone else. I want to discover myself before anyone else discovers me. So yeah that’s about where I am at tonight. I’m glad I took a chance on myself on a challenge. It was a feat for sure. I just remember keeping my eyes closed because I kept feeling everyone watching me and I didn’t want to know that people were there. I just wanted to show up for myself. I want this to be a place I run to if I ever feel not attune with myself or when things get hard. To go to a space of dance where I allow myself to feel safe and feel self acceptance. I am really thankful that I can have a second chance with dance right now. And I am really thankful to be given an opportunity to develop a better relationship with dancing.

[celestialpotat0]

I felt truly happy, the kind of happiness I can feel in my bones and radiates all around me. Most importantly, not forced. I wasn't forcing myself to feel happiness to try to push out negativity and pessimism and foreboding sadness. This feeling of true happiness has been more rare in the past year, and definitely rare during residency.

But I felt that happiness today and yesterday at least, and I want to capture it and keep it.

Friday after work, I cried and I felt like it came out of nowhere. Then Saturday, I felt really sad and empty walking around the mall, then felt better when I was out watching the World Series final while having a beer, then when I got home I cried again. I felt deep sadness, and it wasn't a specific event that triggered the crying episodes, just a lot of things all piled atop one another that made me feel a bit hopeless at the time, worried at the time that it didn't get better, that I wouldn't have been able to experience the ideal everything (working conditions, leisure, friendships, goals set for myself, the person I want to be, etc.) that I had imagined.

I don't know for sure what caused me to change from feeling inexplicably low on Fri/Sat to truly happy on Sun/Mon. I don't remember when the happiness started, but it was definitely there by the time I played tennis on Sunday. I think part of it has to do with successfully making myself exercise, dedicating time to soak in my love of the outdoors, and getting in that flow state focusing on the sport free of all other distractions. Maybe it had to do with voting before that. I was filling out my ballot and starting to get anxious that it was taking up too much time for me to read/research everything when I had so many other errands I needed to get done, but I forced myself to take the time to research everything and contribute my vote. More important to do the things that matter than errands that just benefit myself. Maybe just letting it all out of my system from the crying on Saturday made me feel better?

Aside from that, what also has been contributing to my happiness is remembering the perspective of how lucky I am simply to be alive. Went out to dinner on Friday night, on the way back to the apartment a really long stretch of the street was completely blocked off, many police cars. Had to take a very circuitous route to get back home, the detour jammed with cars because they were all diverted from the closed-down street. Found out on Sunday after tennis was over that a car accident had occurred there on Friday where the street closure was. According to witnesses, a car was hella speeding while racing and crashed into another car. Both parents in the non-speeding car died, their two kids in the car survived. All 3 passengers in the allegedly racing car survived. It's heartbreaking that two people who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time died like that.

The crash happened MINUTES after I was at that exact spot on that street driving to dinner on Friday.

I expected way too much in the past. Now I'm so happy just to be alive! It was tough getting out of bed this morning, Monday, ew right? But I told myself how much of a privilege it is to even be able to wake up another day at 6:30am after not enough sleep and go to work. I stopped complaining to myself today. How lucky I am to be able to taste this cafeteria food. I sprinted all the way to work with backpack on today to make it on time, because the shuttle that takes me drove away from me while I was running toward the shuttle stop. The driver saw me and didn't want to wait lolz, and usually I'm slightly annoyed at the circumstances. But today I truly felt so happy and positive, savoring the great exercise I got for sprinting to work.

I practiced Nutcracker last night, and today I was really stoked for ballet class and rehearsal. I felt so invigorated. usually I'm burnt out from work, I just want to collapse on my couch after work and I'm not exactly excited to leave my apt for another few hours working my ass off in ballet. But I was really excited today. Not because today was any more special than other days in ballet, but rather because of my attitude. And then I felt really happy and in love with the movement and being alive during class and rehearsal. I used to feel this deep gratitude and happiness bursting out of me often. So thankful that it's coming back.

Also, I was originally going to take a weekend trip to Santa Cruz this past weekend, but cancelled because the rain forecast ruined plans to hike. I would just like to say that this past weekend not traveling was AMAZING and I need more weekends like this. I got my bivalent COVID booster, got car maintenance done, assessed and decided on health insurance plan for the new year, reviewed my plan for saving $ for retirement, finally got around to mailing in my ballot, practiced Nutcracker extensively, played tennis, did some intense moisturizing for my eczema, and was craving a healthful home-cooked dinner so spent $36 on high-quality salmon to cook. Every single one of those things had been something I'd been putting off "until I have more free time," and I got around to them this weekend. I'm just writing this so I can convince myself in the future that having a weekend with no events is so beneficial for my mental health.

Unfortunately, the next time I have 2 days off where I have no big plans is mid-December after my Nutcracker shows are over. I need to have more weekends like this. It was incredible for me to be able to feel like I had a restful weekend.

[just-some-yandere-writer]

‘Please don’t hurt me’ pt. 0

Yandere Sanemi x male!reader

warnings: abuse, kidnapping, starvation, knives, injuries, unhealthy relationship, unhealthy mindset.

The food is burnt.

The food is burnt, and you’re going to get hurt because of that.

The food is burnt, and you’re going to get hurt by your captor.

The food is burnt, and you’re going to get hurt by your captor who calls himself your husband.

‘Don’t panic, [Y/n]. Don’t panic. Panicking is only going to get you hurt even more. Just breathe. One, two, three, four. Four, three, two, one.’ After a minute of following the same rhythm, you pick up the pan and throw the rice in the trash. Quickly, you wash new rice and place it on the stove. Then, you chop up vegetables to go with the rice. ‘There’s only forty minutes before he comes back. I have to make this quick.’ Your stomach grumbles, but you ignore the pain.

‘It’s fine. It’s fine. I can deal with it. I’ll deal with it like I always have.’

Thirty minutes later, you turn of the stove and bring out one plate for your captor. You carefully pour the rice onto the plate, and it’s done.

The door slides open, and your captor comes into the house.

“I’m home!”He sings.

“Welcome home, dear! Did you enjoy your day out?” You cheerfully ask, twirling around. You bounce over to your captor and give them a quick kiss on the cheek.

“My day was wonderful! It was so nice to talk to people today!” Your captor laughs, and kisses you back.

You resist the urge to wince.

“Dinner is prepared! I hope you like it, it was made with all of my love!”

“Aww! Thank you so much, [Y/n]! You’re the sweetest person in the world!”

You laugh, and hand the plate to his spot at the small, square table. Your captor sits, takes some chopsticks out of your hands, and eats.

Staring at the meal, your stomach cries. It’s hungry, it wants food, food, food, food, FOOD- luckily, it doesn’t make any noise. It’s learnt its lesson a while ago.

“Is the food to your liking?”You ask.

Your captor nods.

“Would you like anything else?”

He shakes his head.

The room goes silent, and the time ticks by, each second making you more and more anxious.

‘He likes it. He likes the food. He likes it, but what if I did something wrong? I don’t think so, I really don’t. I went by the exact procedure, so I may not get hurt-’

A knock at the door.

They’re three, loud knocks. Loud, but not enough to break the door.

“Oh, dear! It looks like we have a visitor! I’ll go get the door for you.”

After saying that, you twirl over to the door and slide it open. Behind it is a white-haired main with lavender eyes that are shrunk. His chest is exposed, and he’s wearing a white haori over his… uniform? He holds a sword fastened to his belt.

“Hello! What can I do for you?” You greet. It’s safe to be nice. Be nice, and you won’t get hurt by the man at the door.

“I wanted to know if you’ve seen anything weird around here lately.” He asks. His lavender eyes stare deep into your soul.

‘why does he seem so familiar…’

You break eye contact, looking right next to him.

“Nope! Sorry, I haven’t seen any weird things around here. I’ll keep an eye out if you decide to come back!”

‘Oh no. Was that too nice? He can hear!! I might get hurt- oh no-‘

The man at the door nods, saying “Thank you. And with that, he walks away.

You close the door, leaning on it for a few seconds before going back to your captor.

“Who was that?” He asks, now at the sink.

“Just some man asking us if we saw anything strange.”

“What did he look like?”

“Uh… white hair, purple eyes, long eyelashes.”

“…Don’t know him.”

“…I see you’re done with your food! Would you like me to prepare a bath for you?”

“Why were you acting so friendly with that man?”

Oh, no. It’s that moment. The moment you’ve been dreading.

‘This is why you never get your hopes up…’

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was too friendly for you-”

“Are you mocking me?” He snarls.

“Wh-what? No, no, I’m not! I swear I’m not!”

He gets up from his spot. You fall to the floor, pleading to the man. “Please- please, forgive me! I didn’t mean to! I promise it won’t happen again! I promise, I promise, I promise! I swear on my left arm, it won’t happen again! Here-” You roll up your left sleeve. “You can cut it off, or carve your name on it! Just please, please don’t throw me out! I can be of more use, I swear!” You start sobbing, pathetically grabbing onto your captor’s sleeve. Pathetic. That’s what you are. A pathetic little human in an inescapable situation.

Your captor pets your head.

“Such a darling husband, offering your arm up to me.” He coos, and kisses the top of your head. There’s no warmth. “How about I carve my name in, hmm? Would that sound nice?”

You feverishly nod.

“Words, dear. I need words.”

The man’s grip on your arm tightens.

“Yes! Yes, that’d be nice! Anything to make up for my wrongdoing!”

No! No, it wouldn’t, it’d sound horrible! You hate that idea!

“Okay!” Your captor sings. “Just wait one second, and I’ll be back with the knife.”

No, no, no, please, god, no! Please! You curl yourself up onto the floor, shaking uncontrollably. ‘Why? Why am I always like this?! Stuck in this situation, no way to escape! I’m pathetic!’ Angry tears escape your eyes and stain the hardwood floor. You’re angry at yourself, for being too weak. Your captor, for putting yourself in this situation. But most of all, you’re mad at your parents! ‘Go with him’, they said, ‘nothing will go wrong!’ They said! ‘Well, look at your precious son now! Like this! He’s hating is life and is slowly rotting away day by day! How do you feel now?!’ You internally scream.

“I’m back!” You flinch at the voice, and look up with your tear-stained eyes. The person’s features soften, and they coo at your helpless state. “Aw, [Y/n]. You look so cute like that. This’ll only hurt for a bit, ‘Kay? Now, hold still!”

You got no sleep that night.

[hydrangeapartridge]

The last MHA chapters were sad but inspiring, and so I wrote a thing...

WARNING: Spoilers for MHA chapter 362 under the cut!!

You feel a pang in your chest when you enter the classroom. It hasn't changed one bit. It feels like it's been an eternity since you last attended a lesson. You've changed since then; all of you have. You faced hardships that even the best lectures couldn't prepare you to.

The small chattering noises that fill the room contrast with the loud yelling you'd gotten used to. You miss the yelling, but you don't miss the explosions; the screams, the cries of the past few weeks. You wish you could forget them, forget him so it wouldn't hurt so much to know that he won't come to class today.

You're not a child anymore when you sit at small desk on the second row. It's tinier than you remember.

Outside, the cherryblossom fall prettily, all pink and glamourous. You watch them twirl, trying your best to ignore how the seat to your left remains empty. He's always there before you because he gets up so early. Was always there before you.

You busy yourself with emptying the content of your messengerbag, to avoid thinking about half-burnt faces and lost arms. About children going to war. About victory coming at too high a cost. The nightmares plague you enough already, you can't let them darken your days too.

You absentmindedly caress the colorful little bookmarks that stick out of your favourite notebook. He used to make fun of them; of how you higlighted every damn word you wrote with a different color. Your fingers rythmically play with the pen he used to steal from you. It's your favourite pen. You like how it feels between your fingers.

Beside you, the feet of a chair drag noisily against the wooden floor. Your heart races in your chest as some stupid hopeless part of you makes you turn your head too fast to your left. Where you wished to see a familiar mop of ashen blond hair, you find a mess of violet curls. Shinsou's evertired eyes meet yours and you quickly look away. 

You send him a death glare because being angry feels better than being sad. However he isn't intimidated, and thinking he can read you like an open book he says "I'm sorry for you loss"

It's not his fault, you know that. But you can't contain the anger rising inside your gut. It's not fair; it's his desk. It's not fair that he can be replaced just like that. But you're not a kid anymore, so you can't complain about Shinsou stealing his seat to your exhausted teacher. It won't make him come back.

With a deep sigh, Shinsou takes a seat - his seat. You feel his gaze on you but you stubbornly keep looking away. Your notebook is suddenly so very interesting.

"I won't apologize for being here" He mutters and your blood boils in your veins. You can't even fathom how difficult it must be for him, to be here, but you still want to hate him for it. 

"He... He had a far prettier handwritting" The way you automatically use the past tense makes your voice tremble. You shouldn't compare them, and yet you do, even if it's not fair. 

His voice is but a soft whisper, so different from the loud drawl you were used to hear coming from the left. His words make your throat tighten, and tears soon start to blurr your vision. He takes you off guard; you're more used to roughness than kindness. Your emotions are running very high these days, so it is no surprise you so easily go from anger to sadness. That's how grief is.

Shinsou is sweet, he has the decency to look away when you start sobbing. The whole classroom suddenly falls very silent, mourning with you.

Between tears, you catch sight of Shinsou's opened notebook. It's plain, and filled with messy scribbles that you find almost illegible. A bitter chuckle escapes you. 

There's a new boy sitting at the desk to your left, but you won't let the one who left be forgotten.

Shinsou doesn't take offense, he's patient by nature; cool like water. You'd prefer the burn of a shooting star, too quickly gone, but you can't blame him when he tries his best to handle your outburst.

"No copying off me then" Shinsou barely assumes his own joke, looking away while rubbing his neck with his hand.

It still makes you snort, wet and ugly. "You wish" You whisper, and the atmosphere of the whole classroom seems to lighten up with your laugh.

After a moment of silence, you gather up the courage to look at him, your new class neighbour, still a little surprise to find violet orbs instead of sharp scarlet ones.

"Welcome to hero course, Shinsou"  You offer those words with a ghost of a smile; utter them between quivering lips. Like an olive branch. A peace sign. A new start.

The smile Shinsou gives you is small but relaxed, genuine yet tinted with a sorrow only the people in this particular classroom can understand.

There's a new boy sitting at the desk to your left. You'll probably never get used to it. A new year will start like nothing changed, yet you know things will never be the same. You'll keep him in your heart; the blazing image of him, forever young, burnt into your brain; with his uniform intact, his tradmark sulky frown in place and your pen in his hand.

[kpop-dungeon-dark]

The Experiment. (Dom!Sehun x You)

•TRIGGER WARNING•

Warning(s): Con-Noncon (you consent to the act for the sake of play), dacryphilia, choking, anal, hair pulling, bondage, fear kink, gagging, slapping, pretend hate sex, puppy kink, orgasm denial, degradation and humiliation. Browse at your own risk.

Y/n gulped as she walked hand-in-hand with her older, much bigger boyfriend and dom, Sehun. A couple of 7 months now, they had soon realised after a few weeks of going out that both of them liked things on the… rougher side.

Today, they were going to try… something, after very careful planning and discussion.

Sehun knew he had to be the responsible one in the relationship always. And so during experiments as well as 'serious' things he didn't play around or let Y/n shy away, sitting her down and planning everything out.

He didn't ever want to hurt her. Not even accidentally.

The couple came to a halt when they reached the trailer placed in the middle of the jungle, Sehun turning to the girl and pushing her closer by the back of her neck before touching his lips to her forehead.

"I love you."

"I love you too… sir." A timid whisper followed the manly voice, her legs in a complete contrast to her scared voice, thighs squeezing against one another to ease the tension between them.

Oh. Her panties were already soaked.

"You know your safe words, pup." The key turned in the lock and Sehun was in character by the time the door to the trailer slowly opened inwards, his grip hardening on the back of her neck as he roughly hauled her in, stepping inside before hitting the lights as she started to whine and struggle.

"Get in here you little whore!" He was amazed by how fast her tears busted out, as if on cue. "Pathetic! Thinking you can fight against your owner! What a bad dog!" Y/n loved the insults as well as the rough grip he had on her hair, moving her before going to close the door. "You, little pup, need lots of training-!"

The man's words were cut short when she grabbed a vase that had been put intentionally there before hitting his arm hard enough with it that his grip on her loosened, aiding the girl in slipping away through the still ajar door.

"I WILL NEVER SLEEP WITH A SICK AND DIRTY MAN LIKE YOU!" The girl shrieked, her bad acting looking like one out of those porn videos as she rushed away from him, Sehun following soon after grunting and cussing. "HELP! SOMEBODY HELP!"

They knew nobody would come as no one could hear them. This was in the middle of nowhere. They knew it. They had planned it. For weeks.

But something about blindly running in the dark followed by a man so strong and of Sehun's kind, made adrenaline rush through Y/n's veins, her core just getting needier and needier. It was a chilly night. But the fire glowing hotter and hotter deep within her ovaries was providing her enough warm to keep running as tears blurred her vision.

This felt so real. So dangerous. So vicious. Cruel. Terrifying, even.

And she loved it.

The thoughts of what was going to follow this made her knees weak, causing them to buckle up as she went tumbling down against the dead leaves, making her groan as she landed on her chest, wanting to be pounded from behind right there.

"Oh no! Oh no!" She cried harder, sounding more aroused with each word, trying to 'weakly' crawl away as Sehun approached her from behind, clicking his tongue which made her struggle harder. "OH NO SOMEONE HELP ME PLEASE!"

"Absolutely pathetic" clicking his tongue, the man effortlessly grabbed her ankle, dragging her against the leaves as she squawked and drooled humiliatingly, trying to 'break free' from her 'captor' as he dragged her back to the trailer. "You could have at least tried to run away, tsk. But you're really eager, huh?" The man didn't know if he was in character or speaking in general.

Because his slut of a cumsock was always ready to be fucked by him.

In the most vile of ways.

"OH NO! LEAVE ME! LEAVE ME YOU VILE DIRTY MAN!" Her heart was thumping in her ears as she struggled to act, going a little wordless from the excitement of what was to come, almost stopping completely when he threw her over his shoulder and entered the trailer before locking it shut and walking to the bed, throwing her on it. "OH GOD! OH PLEASE NO!"

"Hold still!" Slapping one of her breasts harshly, Sehun felt himself slipping deeper into his dominant headspace, in which he wasn't so tolerable to any sort of fussing, tearing her skimpy little outfit off. "Sure you want me to let you go huh slut?" Now hitting her cheek, the male said in a stern voice.

"Because from the hooker shit you wear it appears you want anything with a cock real or fake to fuck all of your pathetic little nasty holes" when she started to cry harder and thrash around, the man grunted and pulled-tore her panties off, taking a quick sniff before pushing them in her mouth, the girl's sensitive tongue picking up the salty taste almost instantly.

"Disgusting little whore lying to my face!" Grabbing a handful of hair from the back of her head, the man pulled her head back to have her look up at him before he slapped her again. "When you are practically dripping! Such a nasty little dog I have here!" Another slap on the same cheek before he let go of her hair and slapped her other cheek with his now free hand, pinching and pulling at her now reddening, tear stained cheeks.

Y/n's struggling died down a bit as her pussy pulsated harder, ovaries feeling like they were flipping in satisfaction from the cruel slaps, pupils dilating.

Sehun chuckled as his thumb grazed over her wet lips, own tongue running over his as he stepped on her feet to restrict movement. He loved to make a mess of that pretty face, inserting his thumbs in either sides of her mouth now before pulling at them, index fingers pushing her top lip out of the way to humiliatingly reveal her teeth and gums like she was some lab rat.

"You've been a bad little dog for Master, pup. And you know what happens to bad little dogs?" He stretched her mouth even more, eyes cold as ice as he felt his stiff cock harden now. "Such a pretty sleeve for Master's cock." He whispered under his breath, admiring her stretched open mouth.

Before her lust clouded mind could even decipher what was happening, Sehun had already pulled her over the bed, placing her face first against the mattress before hurriedly locking her hands in place against the headboard with handcuffs he had pulled out of his pockets, lips brushing the shell of the girl's ear as his breath fanned her skin.

"They are taught a lesson they will remember for a lifetime."

A shiver ran down her spine as she shuddered, crying even harder and loving the intensity of it all. He could be so sweet and kind but also so cold and rough. So contrasting but so good.

"Hnnngg~" she couldn't help but grind her ass against his abdomen as the man was hurriedly stripping himself of his clothes, making him chuckle as he slapped her mildly bruised ass, causing the smaller body to jump in defense.

"You sure you don't want this?" Pumping his cock, Sehun grinned as he rubbed his length before Y/n's ass cheeks, landing a slap on one before squeezing it hard and pulling at it, pushing it away from the other one. "Because it looks like you do~" a surrendered nod came from the girl, causing him to chuckle.

It was no news that the girl wasn't much of a fighter against him, always melting into her Master's control.

But now was the time of the promised surprise Sehun had told her of. The twist.

Fishing the bottle of lube out of the pocket of his discarded jacket, the male easily opened it with one hand and squeezed it hard, aiming for the tiny little fairly unused hole that would always have her thrash and whine if touched.

And it always made Sehun go for it even more.

A loud muffled whine erupted from the girl as realisation dawned upon her. Fuck. He was about to give her some good old anal that always had her penguin walking for days.

Oh no!

Y/n wanted- needed stimulation in her aching pussy and she needed it now!

Sehun, on the other hand was enjoying the now genuine struggle, humming to himself a devilishly sweet tone whilst dripping thick drops of the liquid on his cock now, the thick tip already pushing against the tiny hole now.

Readying it for the deal was one thing, but forcing it to open as it desperately tried to reject his cock and push it out was on a whole different level.

"It never manages to amuse me how you think fucktoys like you have a choice against-" biting his lip, Sehun enjoyed the feeling of her warm and tight ring of muscles encased his fat tip, hands carelessly discarding the almost empty lube. "-their… fuck-" The male grunted as he struggled to fit his impressively huge cock up her tiny ass, both hands squeezing her bruising ass before separating the cheeks to help it open up, hips slowly pushing deeper and deeper as Y/n's mouth formed an 'O', fresh tears escaping her eyes as her whole felt as though it were on fire.

But hell…

It burnt so good.

He always made it hurt so good.

"... against their Masters" Sehun was panting by the time he was able to finish his sentence, halting midway before pulling outwards to drill the entry a bit wider before moving his whole cock in, the upper half of Y/n's body going limp against the bed as she whimpered and moaned to the pain, the lower half raised in the air as it was being thoroughly invaded.

"Fuck! Such a tight little dog!" The male grunted as he felt his hips slowly easing up because of the ring of muscles slowly getting used to his cock, not many loud sounds coming from the girl.

"Come here!" Grabbing her neck, Sehun made her sit up straighter on her knees, causing her ass to slide back on his cock as she whined loudly, drool dripping down her chin as her eyes rolled to the back of her head, making Sehun thrust harder as he watched her from the mirror he had installed right above the headboard to watch her in such positions, other hand squeezing and pinching her sensitive and hard nipples.

"Look at yourself, little pup. Look up!" Pulling at her hair from behind until she was looking at him through the mirror with her lust clouded and tear filled eyes, Sehun sped up mercilessly faster, trying to fit his big balls in the hole too. "This is what you are, just a pathetic little cocksock. This is what delusional little fucktoys like yourself-" slapping one of her cheeks he humiliating pushed her nose back, making her blush even harder in embarrassment.

"-get for thinking they can whine about things. Tch. You should be grateful for whatever I give you. Such a bratty pet I have." Her eyebrows were furrowed in pain and concentration as she felt her tits fly back and forth humiliatingly fast due to the powerful thrysts, this sight alone enough to make her cum.

This mirror was such an embarrassment.

Sehun's body draped over Y/n's back as he chased his orgasm, placing his lips against her neck after pushing her hair out of the way, kissing and licking at the skin before sucking at it, one hand choking it and cutting her air supply as the other one trailed down south.

"Tell me when you're close by nodding." Was a much gentle and soft sound as compared to the loud sound of flesh slapping against flesh as his fingers creeped down and between the girl's wet and squishy pussy lips, making her close close in sweet pleasure.

Oh, good heavens. Finally.

What the poor girl found out soon after was that whenever she'd near her orgasm and nod hazily to let him know, Sehun would devilishly grin in the mirror and stop right away, waiting until the build up was gone before starting the torture all over again, an expert at holding back his own.

Why? Just because he simply could.

It was only a good while after that he painted her walls white with his seed and allowed her to cum, removing the torn underwear from her mouth to have relieved sobs tumble out as the girl collapsed against the bed, going limp as the male slowly eased her out of her restraints, gently rubbing them with the pads of his thumbs while whispering sweet nothings in her ear.

.