#it’s been a true battle with my health an a anxiety for weeks where I can barely function but I’m still desperately attempting

[tawnyisacolor]

trying to keep it together while my life has been simultaneously falling apart ☺️

[georgette-mademoiselle]

Sekido: you irritate me!

Georgette: and yet you havent left my room

Sekido: MY ROOM! YOUR JUST A GUEST STAYING OVER FOR GOD KNOWS WHEN YOU'LL LEAVE!

georgette: well when you put it that way now im not leaving!

Sekido: w-what!? And why the hell not!

Georgette: because my sweet, the more you shout the more youll only strain your throat the more you shout the more you yell your just increasing anxiety within you and most of all...your hearts health can barley take it.

Sekido: why do you care about my well bieng so much!? God your nurtuting instincts is INFURIATING! im a demon! None of these things matter to us anymore! So why do you insist on doing so!?

Georgette: *sigh* perhaps that's true, but still...i deeply worry that youll over do it to the point it gets in the way of your next coming battles or worse your shouting can distract the others from what there doing your a good leader ill give you that but your patience and self control needs work

Sekido: woman i am the embodiment of anger itself! It is in my nature to do so! Stop coddling me with your lecture!

Georgette: and like i said previous your still in my room.

Sekido: DONT YOU TALK BACK TO ME Y-

georgette *she puts her finger onto his lips*

Shhh...you find comfort in bieng around me right?

Sekido: i-i...

Georgette: its hard for you to be kind i get it but know that the fee instances that youve shown me ive treasured it in my memories...the rose garden...the hair admiration ...and of course *wrapping her arms around his neck* when you insisted in stayin by my side when the voices became to much to bear...your kindess has not been overshadowed my love....

Sekido: i remember...*he almost felt warmth in his heart, despite who he was there was some form of softness in him that many dont see and in rare occasions when he did it was because he deeply cared about you in a way* and despite all the foulness that comes out of my mouth you favor me out of everyone here...why?

Georgette: do i have to say it?

Sekido: .....

Georgette: because your special sekido, not only because you harber a deep softness despite your intense emotion but your also the most mature one here plus really intelligent *taps his forhead* and...*blushing almost looking away* y-your beautiful...the color red captivates me so much that i cant take my eyes of you...

Sekido: Georgie...

Georgette: long ago i knew someone with the exact hair color as mine and your eyes...he was the sweetest person ever, sometimes your frustration and stress reminds me of him whenever he couldnt figure out a spell or because his past would crept behind him

And now hes gone...but despite that...theres hope...and that hope is you bieng my next chapter.

Sekido: *all these positive words where things he wasn't used to hearing nobody dared love somone like him yet here she was completely drawn to him* i see...so im your crimson haired beauty in demon form hm?

Georgette: *bashful* hahaha kinda!

Sekido: Kinda!? Tck! What is he more beautiful than me!? Hes lucky that hes no longer with us or else i would marched in his home with the audacity! *Oops maybe he shouldnt have said that last line*

Georgette: *as horrible as that sounded she laughed* awww your jealous! Its ok sekido you and him have a very completely different beauty that makes each and both of you stand out.

Sekido: whatever! Trying to save my pride by saying hes different from me pathetic!

Georgette: ahh sekido...that was the past this is now, this new chapter is all about you and the rest of this houshold. And while im here i do mean it i want to help you control yourself i understand you cant help it at times and i cant blame you bieng a personification of an emotion must be the hardest thing ever

Sekido: oh you have no idea...

Georgette: oh i do ive been here for a couple of weeks now and trust me it feels like im in an asylum *laughs*

Sekido: *ah how true* then welcome to our insane asylum i hope you contenue enjoying your stay my crimson rose *very slightly smiles and pats her head*

Sekido: now come join us downstairs to feast.

Dividers by @/elryisia

[misskgetsfit]

My almost yearly Facebook post that I thought I’d share here too, just in case it helps

Dear Friends,

It’s time.

This Thursday, September 8, is R U OK Day. This is not the first time I’ve written about this and it will not be the last.

I am not OK

It’s not a secret that I’ve battled depression and anxiety for many, many years. But I’ve survived. I’ve sought help as I’ve needed it, from loved ones, friends and professionals. And I’ve managed. I’ve worked my way up the corporate ladder. I’ve developed a handful of wonderful, caring, close friends. I’ve met and married a wonderful man. We’ve got two beautiful dogs, have just moved into a beautiful house (I’m building a freaking home library).

But right now, I am not ok. I am far from it.

What is a sort of secret to a lot of people is that I have become incapacitated by my illness.

Covid, lockdowns, the past, the future, the current shitshow that is the world we live in has a lot to answer for. And since October last year my mental illness has taken over my life. I have been hospitalised 3 times, and will soon be making a call for my next stay (because sometimes, that’s the treatment we need).

I worked for as long as I could, each day, each week, watching myself perform less and less to the standard that I am accustomed to for myself until I reached the point where I needed to take an extended period of leave.

I struggle to get out of bed. I struggle with the worst kinds of intrusive thoughts. My house is a mess. I can go days without showering. I take a litany of medications to get through. I ignore texts and emails. My phone is nearly always on DND.

This is a scary place to exist in. I know that with a break and continued treatment, I’ll be back to myself. With good days and bad days, but on a more “normal”, a more “balanced” way. But how do I prove to others that this is true? The secrecy behind mental illness, the stigma, the shame, has the possibility of the worst consequences imaginable.

The worst part is, that if it was a different illness, cancer, broken limbs, viral infections, long covid or even the ups and downs of parental leave, I might be less scared. I might be more open to conversations about what lies ahead, what my treatment plans looks like with less judgement from others. Without fear of saying yes or no to different events because of what I can cope with of any given day.

As always, I beg of you to not ask someone if they are ok if you do not mean it. If you would not ask the question on any other day of the year, don’t ask on Thursday. If you are genuinely concerned about someone, think about the conversation, be prepared for the any answer they might give.

Is it odd that I’ve shared so publicly (and yes, I have deliberately made this public and shareable)? Potentially. But I am an advocate for mental illness, health and safety. We need to be able to have honest and open conversations. If I can give you the courage to reach out and talk to someone (even if that someone is me) then I have done something good.

It is OK to not be OK, and there is so shame in asking for help.

Some resources available to you include:

- your GP

- a friend/trusted family member

- Lifeline (https://www.lifeline.org.au/)

- Beyond blue (https://www.beyondblue.org.au/)

- Headspace (headspace.org.au)

- Australian Psychological Association (https://psychology.org.au/)

Much love,

Kate

[seahorse-dad-in-training]

The Newborn Stage

People often talk about how the newborn stage was "so easy" but I really have to disagree with that! The Newborn stage is a lot of work and is a time where you're drastically changing your schedule and honestly not getting a lot of sleep. It also can include when post partum anxiety and depression can be at its highest.

Now, this isn't meant to scare anyone! What I'm gonna talk about is my realistic experience without romanticizing any of it.

The Newborn stage has been the hardest on me so far, even with kiddo teething now and being clingy as a result, the newborn stage was unbelievably difficult for me personally.

In this stage, you have to feed your baby every 2-3 hours (which can be more frequent if a baby has certain health conditions but this is the average). Babies do not typically sleep through the night at this stage, so sleep is difficult to achieve. The first few weeks rendered me not able to sleep at all, to the point I was having auditory hallucinations. I had awful post partum anxiety. My baby had severe acid reflux and they'd stop breathing and freak out, causing me to freak out as a result. Now we later learned my baby has a milk allergy which was causing the severe reflux, so it isn't a problem anymore.

Between battling with insurance to get them covered, my doctor's office trying to tell me I'd have to pay for my child to be seen (not true! Newborns in my area are supposed to have billing go to a specific thing before insurance starts to work), the reflux, healing, and PP issues, it was hectic!

The thing I didn't keep in mind though, was that it's TEMPORARY! I had a very hard time focusing on the fact that this stage is temporary. It's hard when they don't do much other than cry, eat, poop, and sleep. Of course those skin to skin snuggles definitely helps get through it, though.

Don't feel like a bad parent if you're struggling through this stage.

I gave up on pumping very early on into this...I needed to rest, I needed to sleep, and my breasts being very large compared to before was giving me dysphoria on top of it all. I switched to formula by the second or third week.

No matter how much you think you're prepared as a first time parent, it's definitely difficult. But it's so so so worth it!! Because within the next few months you're going to have a baby that genuinely smiles at you, that stares at you intently, that wants to start interacting with people and objects 💜 they start to roll over and lift their head. It gradually feels more and more fulfilling.

[ear-worthy]

Mina AF Podcast: A Celebrity You Can Connect With

Let's begin with a healthy dose of skepticism. Mina AF podcast is simply another celebrity podcast. It's like a hundred other celebrity podcasts. The format and tone are the same, just the name has changed.

That skeptical reaction is true for most celebrity podcasts. Happily for me and listeners, it's not at all accurate for the Mina AF podcast.

Mina is Mina Starsiak Hawk from her HGTV show Good Bones. If you don't follow HGTV, the show follows revitalization specialists who turn rundown homes into stunning remodels. In this case, it's mother/daughter duo Karen E. Laine and Mina Starsiak transforming properties in and around their hometown of Indianapolis. Laine's legal background and Starsiak Hawk's real estate knowledge helped them to secure diamonds in the rough, and then they hire out demo and construction duties -- or get help from family -- to get the houses done on time and on budget.

The show recently ended after eight years on the air. Starsiak Hawk began her podcast, Mina AF, in December 2022. Since the trailer debuted, Starsiak Hawk has been consistent and reliable, releasing an episode every week throughout 2023.

Here's what Starsiak Hawk wants listeners to know about her podcast.

"What’s one thing you've always wanted to ask but didn’t know how? What’s something you’ve always wanted to say out loud, but were scared to? We're gonna talk about it! Mina is ready to share her story and delve into others. Mina is asking the uncomfortable questions, talking about the things we're embarrassed to feel or think, challenging societal norms and doing it all without judgment."

Mina Starsiak Hawk is the co-founder and owner of Two Chicks and a Hammer and retail store Two Chicks District Co. She stars in HGTV's shows Good Bones and Good Bones: Risky Business, and has appeared on Rock the Block, A Very Brady Renovation, and Battle on the Beach.

So what's different or special about Mina AF? First, Starsiak Hawk delivers on the same warm and inviting persona that she revealed for years on HGTV's Good Bones. She's not a Gwyneth Paltrow, who whines without a sense of irony that her celebrity life is so difficult. Starsiak Hawk is down-to-earth, earnest, and sincere.

Second, Starsiak Hawk is an excellent interviewer. She listens well, asks solid initial questions and can follow up effectively. One of her best episodes and interviews was July 3rd with Money Pit podcast co-host and interior designer Leslie Segrete. They relived interior design challenges on TV and swapped lively, gossipy stories.

Mina Starsiak Hawk has opened up about her mental health battle and how her recent experience changing her medication affected her sex life and caused her to have “little brain seizures.”

In numerous episodes, she has discussed her early and adult family life. A mother divorced three times, a child custody battle, family rivalries, and makeups and breakups. Like so many, Starsiak Hawk's life has been like the teacup ride with its constant swirls, turns, and spins.

One of Starsiak Hawk's best qualities that makes her relatable to listeners is that she does not castigate everyone else and absolve herself. She heaps blame on herself for life issues and talks lovingly of family members. So, her tale is not a celebrity sob story. It's real life, where everyone is both a villain and a hero at times.

One of her best episodes about her life is called "My Mental Health Journey," released on September 25th. In the episode, she speaks frankly about her antidepressant medication, her therapy, and therapists.

“I was on Wellbutrin and Lexapro for the longest time. I was like, 'This is great; this is the perfect combination for me. It keeps me myself, but just not as high-level anxiety,'” she said. “I physically manifest my anxiety. My jaw locks up, I clench my fists, I get nauseous because my stomach is clenched. So, the addition of the Lexapro was really helpful for me to just make all the feelings still there, but the unproductive anxiety part of the feeling kind of much more manageable.”

However, she admitted that it began to affect her sex life with her husband, Steve Hawk, as some of the medication’s less common side effects include decreased sexual desire, ability, drive, and performance.

She slowly started to wean herself off of Lexapro earlier in 2023. When she came to her therapist with the decision, the therapist suggested taking an anti-anxiety drug, Latuda, before gradually reducing her 10-milligram dosage of Lexapro every 10 days. Her anxiety felt manageable when she stopped taking it for two weeks. However, she then began to have physical symptoms.

“At the time, I said it felt like I was putting my tongue on a D battery inside my brain. It was like these zaps, but they were like misfires. It felt like my brain was having these little zappy seizures all the time, all day, and this had been going on for a month, along with lethargy and nausea.”

In the August 28th episode, Starsiak Hawk said she’s “not on good terms” with her mom, Karen Laine, and her brother Tad Starsiak.

While she didn’t elaborate on a possible cause for the friction, she noted, “No one’s punching the other person in the face by any means.” Instead, Starsiak Hawk shared, “We all just exist because it’s what makes my dad happy. And that’s that’s fine. That’s been fine for a long time. It’s fine for a lot of families. I just don’t think it’s fine anymore.”

She also mentioned how it affected their time on their show, Good Bones.

One example Starsiak Hawk gave is a “knockdown drag-out fight during demo” with her mom in the season premiere. “I was like, ‘I wonder if anyone’s going to be able to tell,’” she mused. “And of course, you can’t because that’s the idea. People…that’s not why they’re tuning in to watch Good Bones. That’s not what they want.”

Other episodes that excel are the recent October 2nd one on breast implant health issues and the April 10th episode called "Being A Woman in Construction."

Check out the Mina AF podcast with Mina Starsiak Hawk. For listeners searching for someone to connect with and discuss their common issues in everyday life, Mina Starsiak Hawk is the ideal sounding board. She's been through what you've been through…and she can help.

[getmylife]

T-70 Days to Moving

Completed September 7 2023

So great news! The tiles are here, the windows have been ordered and the doors are being chosen. It should take about three weeks to tile and by then the windows should have arrived and so that can start right away.

The contractor and the joiner should be meeting next week, God willing and so we'll be able to start working on bathroom cabinets and bedroom closets. I'm getting my bed custom made for extra storage so that meeting should get the ball rolling for all of that. #Den

The issue I've been having is that the new house has lost its shiny glow. I've been thinking of it as this Promised Land TM, where life will just be better, which, objectively, is true. Our neighbours will be few and far between so I'll feel more comfortable going out in the yard and I'll get both fresh air and sunshine. I'll have my own space and some more control over my belongings and my routines and so my mind will be clearer. I'll have easy access to my instruments and the internet will be faster and self care activities will become a lot easier. My periods will be more comfortable because of the privacy I'll have. There are so many benefits that will come with moving.

Yet, I'm still going to be me. I'm still intrinsically flawed. I'm still going to have to work on treating myself and others with kindness. I'm going to have to put fail safes in place for the low energy and low mood days. I'm still going to have to keep seeing a psychiatrist. I'm still going to be struggling with figuring out who I am and what I believe and where I'm going. I'm still going to battle with anxiety and depression and ADHD. These are still going to be my struggles.

The realization of this has dampened my excitement a bit, but I don't think it's a bad thing. I think it's more realistic than pessimistic and it will save me from the disappointment waiting for me if I hadn't thought this over more objectively. I can't imagine how devastating it would be to get there and then have this realization. #Notes

It's also helped me be a bit more proactive. I can't wait to get there to start living and improving. I was seriously going to wait til I got there to start seeing a therapist. I'm glad I didn't wait. My next appointment is scheduled for next week. I've been thinking about some of the stuff we talked about the last time and I'm over most of the shame of feeling like I overshared (like that isn't what you're literally supposed to do...smh). #Soul

I've also been doing some recommended reading: The Four Agreements; A Scattered Mind; and The Self-Compassion Workbook. The last two have been kind of overwhelming in terms of length for me right now and my attention span, but I'm taking it all one page at a time. I doubt that I'll be done with all three by the next time we meet, but I'd like to be done with the Four Agreements. That is the one that has been resonating the most with me. #Quotes

My health has been okay lately. Mostly just dizziness and lack of appetite to think about. I'm definitely dehydrated though. This heat has been wicked. I need to find some form of physical activity though: something light and easy and mindless. Walking is not for me, but I need to figure something out and soon. #Bones

I've not found a replacement for myself for my lessons yet and so I'm thinking of keeping one student. I don't know that she'd work well with just anyone and my other two should be fine without me. #World

This week I've not been writing like I'd like to, but I did put out a two liner that has been gaining traction on the Tumblr TM. That will always be so validating to me, getting notes on pieces I'm proud of. My WIP is not close to being done. I've been gunning to finish it by December, but at the rate I'm going it doesn't look great, especially since I also wanted to write a short story to put out during Christmas. We'll see how it goes especially since I'm taking the whole of next month off. #Pen

My #Skills and #Thrills life have been kinda dry. Although, I did go out for icecream with a cousin this week. That was fun. It was nice seeing him after so long.

My music has not gone anywhere in a long time, but my DuoLingo is going strong so yayyy. #Tones

[nanalikessurveys]

What were you doing before you started taking this survey? I took another one. Do you live somewhere where it’s completely safe to walk alone at night? I wouldn’t say it’s completely safe anywhere in the world since there’s always a possibility of something bad happening you know. But generally speaking yes, it’s safe. Have you ever lived with someone who was a total slob? Noo. Would you rather be able to talk to animals or be fluent in every language? This is always a tough one, but maybe I’d rather talk to animals. Does your kitchen have a pantry? No.

Do you live below your means? Or do you spend every penny you have? I don’t have any major financial problems but sometimes for some reason I act like I have all the money in the world and spend way too much. What are some foods you enjoy cooking? I enjoy cooking oven baked-foods the most since I don’t like messing around with the stove that much.

Have you ever watched Battlestar Galactica? No. Can others often tell what you’re feeling by your facial expressions? I guess so, but I wouldn’t call myself super expressive though. Have you ever interviewed a job applicant at your workplace? No. Did you ever skip class when you were in school? If so, was there a particular class that you skipped the most? In middle school and the first year of high school yes. I was battling with anxiety and that restricted my life a lot. I couldn’t go to school at all in 9th grade so I had to be homeschooled for that year. Are you happy with the life you’re living? Not fully but I’ve been a lot worse. I wish I could go back like 2 years and tell myself that things do work out in the end.  ^If no, why not? Are you taking any steps to improve things and be happier? I’m not fully happy because I still battle with my mental health which restricts my life in some ways. I can’t have a job right now and I have to study online from home. I’ve attented therapy for the past 7(?) years and it’s been a really long process but I’m slowly starting to get better. Have you ever gone over 3 months without shaving/waxing your legs? Yes, I’m naturally blonde so most of my body hair is really light and fine as well. No one can really see my leg hair unless they come really close to my legs lol. Are you high-maintenance? Nope. What was the last non-fiction book you read? It was a book about individual freedom by a finnish philosopher, Ruurik Holm. I read it because of my studies. Would you ever consider being a foster parent? I have thought of that but I’m not sure. Are you able to crack any of your joints? My fingers, toes, neck and spine. What’s your favorite movie genre? Thrillers, drama, horror and historical movies are probably my favorites. I also love movies that are based on true stories regardless of the genre. What’s something that’s been on your mind a lot lately? School, mostly. What was the last thing someone asked you for advice on? My friend asked for my opinion on which nail polish she should wear for her sister’s wedding lol. Have you ever kissed 3 or more people in the same day? No. What’s your opinion on lottery tickets? Waste of money, or no? They suck assss. They’re a waste of money for sure, you very rarely win anything, and if you do, you get addicted to buying more of them in hopes of winning more and then losing all the money again. Speaking from my own personal experience. What are some things that make others cry, that don’t make you cry at all? Uhh, I don’t cry because of movies?  Do you have any upcoming plans with friends? We’re probably seeing each other in a few weeks but nothing has been confirmed yet. What was the last picture message you received, and from whom? From my friend, she sent me a picture of her at her sister’s wedding. Have you ever swam in a saltwater pool? I’ve been in a saltwater pool but I didn’t swim in it. What color suits you more: teal or black? Probably black. I don't even own any teal clothes.   What continent do you live on? Europe.

[whump-a-la-mode]

Hi, could you please write a snippet on Hero whumpee, who's being tortured by the Hero league for being so weak, and when they don't show up for a fight, villian goes to find them, and they're completely shocked at hero's battered condition. So they break them out of there and nurse the traumatized hero back to health?

Apologies if it's a lot!

Ah I’m sorry it took so long to get to this one! It’s such a good prompt, Hero whumper and Hero whumpee. I hope I did your idea justice! Sorry that there’s not much in the way of caretaking, here. I was in the mood for some good classic whump.

CW//Injuries, chains, dehumanization, objectification, blood, black eyes, bruises, self-hatred

When Villain’s flashlight beam landed upon the sight, it was all that they could do not to drop their torch to the ground. It was just about as difficult not to lose their lunch.

They hadn’t known what to expect, when they’d taken on this (rather ill-advised) mission. Certainly not this. Certainly not what they saw before them. Really, anything else would have been better.

It wasn’t their business, even! If anything, the villain should have been glad.

They should have been glad when their nemesis disappeared. And, at first, it hadn’t even been a ‘disappearance.’

The last time that they had seen their nemesis had been a particularly climactic, and particularly violent battle. In the end, it was a fight that Villain had won, leaving their enemy limping away. 

Thus, the next time Villain had taken a bank hostage, it wasn’t the greatest surprise that Hero was not among those dispatched to stop them. They were hurt-- the villain had managed to get in some rather nasty blows. They needed their rest, and most doctors agree that fiery battles in bank vaults aren’t conducive to a fast recovery.

But, then, at the next fight, Hero had not shown their face.

Or the next.

Or the next.

Were they the most well-known of heroes? Certainly not. The Heroes’ League had plenty more shining faces, plenty more perfect smiles and dreamboats. But, then again, Villain was not the most well-known of villains. It was only proper that they should have a more obscure nemesis.

So it seemed, however, that obscurity had led to them simply being forgotten. News media never spoke of their disappearance, far more preoccupied with the week’s best paparazzi shots of Superhero and their closest cohorts.

It was as though Hero had simply disappeared into thin air, and only their greatest enemy had noticed at all. Villain would be lying if they said it hadn’t become an obsession. Not that they liked that old jerk, of course. It wasn’t worry that inspired their charge. No, it was merely curiosity.

Curiosity alone is what inspired them to aggressively search every newspaper obituary section, to hound every local hospital and morgue, to devote their supercomputer’s processor to facial recognition, digging through millions of photographs. All in an attempt to find their Hero.

It was merely curiosity. A pastime. That was all there was to it.

But, after weeks, their efforts proved to all have been for naught. It was as though Hero had simply disappeared, been plucked into thin air.

By the time that Villain decided to break into the Heroes’ League Headquarters, nearly a month had passed since their fight. Since their nemesis, their greatest foe had vanished.

And, here they were.

They’d found Hero.

Villain’s flashlight settled first upon the hero’s body, before moving upwards, towards their face. The further up they moved, so it seemed, the most horrifying the sight was. Their jaw had long ago dropped open, and they had not the will nor the desire to close it.

The longer Hero had been gone, the more outlandish Villain’s anxieties had grown. First, they had assumed that their nemesis was simply recovering from their injuries. Then, they thought that perhaps they had become sick. But, the longer that theory stuck with them, the worse their worries became. What kind of sickness kept someone off their feet for a whole month?

But it wasn’t sickness. No, it wasn’t sickness.

It had been no easy feat, getting here. After switching out the night guards’ coffees with a batch laced with sleeping medication, they had only had to wait a few minutes before they made their entrance. That was the easy part, however. Getting in.

Finding Hero? That was a little more difficult. They had searched all the expected places. Their dorm, the med bay, the cafeteria, the lounge. The gym had been a last ditch effort. After all, Hero didn’t exactly seem like the type for some three-in-the-morning exercise, but they had always been full of surprises.

And, that was where they were. But they weren’t exercising. No, they were in no state to be doing any of that.

When Villain had first witnessed their state, they had believed it to be a hallucination. A trick of the light. But, when they rubbed their eyes and blinked, it was still there, clear as day.

Hero. Their despised, hated Hero, with their stupid, noble smile and bright eyes. Here they stood-- or, more so, here they dangled.

Strung up among a row of leather punching bags. That was where they had found their nemesis, hanging from their wrists. A punching bag. A true, literal punching bag.

And it was more than clear the position was taken quite literally by some. They were nearly nude, clothed in only undergarments that had long since been soaked through with dried scarlet. Otherwise, so it seemed, every last inch of their flesh was positively coated with varying splotches of blue, black, and sickly green. Most were centered upon their exposed stomach, to the point that the bruises simply blended together into one big painting.

Their face was swollen almost to the point of being unrecognizable. Varying strikes had twisted their nose and jaw both out of place, and only one of their eyes was able to open in the slightest.

“Hero.” That was all that Villain could do, call out their name breathlessly.

“Don’t call me that.” Their words were so slow, nearly silent. Injuries upon their neck had clearly caused their throat to swell. “Why are you here?”

There was a moment of pause between them.

“To save you, evidently.”

“No.” Hero sounded desperate. “No.”

“N-What are you, crazy? I mean, clearly! But, what, did your doctor up your dose of your kookoo meds? When was the last time you saw yourself in a mirror?!”

“Villain. Leave.” They croaked.

“And leave you like this? Not a chance.”

“I need this.”

Hero had to gasp for air, clearly not getting enough through their swollen throat.

“What?”

“I need this. I- I failed.” Tears beaded and flowed from their closed black eye. “It’s okay, Villain. T- They’re making me stronger.”

Villain stopped.

It had been a terrible loss, the last time Hero had been on the field. Not only had they wound up injured, so had half a dozen civilians, and god only knows how much property.

But this...

“They’re torturing you.”

“My friends are training me.” Their eyes widened, and they were thrown into a coughing fit. At its end, a spot of bloody phlegm was spat up onto the floor.

“They’re torturing you! Have you seen yourself?! You look like you just got hit by a truck!”

“Please. P- Please j-j-just leave.”

“No.” Villain turned off their flashlight, hooking it in their belt loop. They would need both hands free, for this. “No, Hero, we’re going home. And, for the love of everything holy, you’re going straight to the hospital.”

[harrywritingsbyme]

Just The Way You Are

Based Off Of This Ask

And This One

A/N: Anon…tysm for helping me out of my brain fart and suggesting/requesting this concept. I may or may not have cried (more like bawled) while writing this one. I love it sm and I feel like it’s perfect bc it’s so  relatable for so many, so I hope you like it bby🥺!! and I just realized that this is my last full post of 2020 which is absolutely insane…enjoy🙃

What you saw in the mirror was always a struggle for you. You were heavy in the chest, your hips were wide, you had chub in places where you didn’t want chub, and you had an endless supply of thighs. For the longest time you’d been in the never ending battle with your weight and with your figure. For years, you struggled to lose weight and slim down, trying your hardest to fit into the mold and standard of beauty that was placed before you. You tried so many of the fad diets you’d found on the internet and countless workout routines that were supposedly going to give you that instant gratification and the appearance you were chasing after.

 But at the end of it all, you got nothing. In fact, you came out with less than what you came in with. The only thing that came out of those efforts was even more disappointment in yourself. And the disappointment and dissatisfaction that came from those efforts was just a portion of the mountain of disdain and sadness that was already growing inside of you towards yourself. There were so many times where you just wanted to give up on it all. You felt like you’d never be seen as beautiful by yourself or by anyone else. You felt like there was absolutely no hope and that you weren’t going to be able to be loved by anyone because of your outward appearance. You felt stuck. 

And you felt stuck for a while. You went back and forth between fighting to get out of this state and just letting it be that way for who knows how long. You went on and on in this cycle until you became tired of being that way. It became exhausting. You’d reached your lowest point, you were drained. You realized that you couldn’t stay like this forever, nor were you going to allow yourself to stay like this anymore. So you pulled yourself up and you came up with a way to get yourself up. Even though it probably wasn’t the best mindset to have, you came to the resolve that if you couldn’t change it and if you weren’t going to be accepted and loved by anyone on the basis of your looks, you might as well accept and love yourself the way you were. And believe it or not, that pessimistic yet strangely optimistic mindset actually got you to a much better place. Sure you still had your insecurities about the way you looked and sure your heart sunk a little bit when you looked in the mirror, but you were feeling better than before and that’s all you cared about. You weren’t completely over the hill in regards to the negative feelings towards yourself but you definitely made progress and that’s all that mattered to you. You were finally feeling better. 

And you only got better. After making it to the point of feeling a bit better about yourself, you met Harry. He managed to shower you with all the love and affection you never thought you’d ever receive from someone. Even though you were strong in your convictions when it came to finding any type of approval in a man, you couldn’t resist Harry. He was an absolute dream. Along with loving you and your body, he was everything you could’ve wanted in a partner. There was no other way to describe it, he was just amazing and you didn’t want to let him go, nor were you planning to. You didn’t even entertain the thought. You held onto him and you enjoyed the pure bliss that came from being together. The both of you were completely head over heels for each other. And as you and Harry’s relationship grew, you blossomed. You became confident in yourself and you were able to stop putting yourself down. You’d reached the better place you were desperately searching for all this time. You were happy. This time, it wasn’t a facade that you were putting up to disguise your true and beyond negative feelings. You were truly happy. 

But with all good things of course, they either come to an end or come at a price. And being with Harry came at a price. You and Harry tried your best to keep your relationship away from the prying eyes that were constantly surrounding him. But you could only do but so much with that. It wasn’t that long before everyone found out who you were and made things a bit harder for you. After a little over nine months into your relationship with Harry, you began noticing an all around influx in your social media’s along with the press in general. Your picture was everywhere and there were so many people who were taking and interest in you and talking about you. You knew it came with the territory of dating someone who had an enormous amount of fame the way Harry did, but it was still very foreign and it was something that you weren’t prepared for. There were so many comments that made you happy and feel better about the situation. They were so happy to see you dating Harry, especially since you were very different from the women he’s dated and has been associated with in the past. Seeing those things always melted your heart and made you feel so good inside. 

But for some reason, the bad always crept in and overshadowed the good that was being brought your way. Along with an influx in positives, there was an influx in the negatives with the main target being your appearance. You tried to block it out and not focus on the negative, but those feelings that Harry was able to break through in the beginning came creeping back. Harry tried to console you in any way possible given the fact that you had talked to him a little bit about your past struggles. He took the time to remind you that you were desirable and that you were beautiful and that he loved you. Now while you were still down about what was being said about you, Harry’s words definitely provided comfort to you and made the situation tolerable. They didn’t miraculously change your thinking on the matter, but Harry’s words were able to stop you from going into the dark place you were in before which was what you needed at the time. Since everything was coming down onto you all at once, that was exactly what you needed. And eventually, with Harry’s help, you were able to make it through that incredibly intense time. 

Not too long after the news broke about your relationship, you and Harry celebrated your one year anniversary together, the both of you were beyond ecstatic about the milestone and your lives together going forward. The both of you were so happy to be together and so happy to have made it through the hell that was the past three months following the revealing of guys’ relationship. As you two continued on together, the negativity still came your way though. You tried your best to block it all out and keep moving forward to the best of your abilities but you weren’t able to let it all roll off you back. Some of it stayed with you, prompting you to just spring into action. Because you had so many people talking about you and your appearance, picking you apart at every turn, you were became determined to make them shut up. And the only way you knew how to do that was by going to work out with Harry. You figured that if you were able to do what he was doing, you’d be able to transform and as a result get them all to shut up and leave you alone. 

So you gave Harry the lame excuse of wanting to accomplish the health goal you had set for yourself which marked the beginning of your anxiety and stress filled workout journey. Harry bought right into that positive notion too, completely ready and willing to help you accomplish your goal and completely oblivious to your true motives towards wanting to start working out with him. From that point on, the two of you got up early at the same time five days a week to work out. It was incredibly hard for you to do but you were beyond motivated to shut everyone up and go back to having that peace you once had within yourself. 

You just wanted it all to stop. 

Now while you were extremely determined to workout, Harry began noticing some things that prompted red flags to go up in his head. The main and number one thing that got his attention was your excessiveness in regards to working out. After helping you get accustomed to working out the way he did and on the schedule he did it, you ran with it and never stopped. You began working out all the time, making your schedule seven days a week and sometimes twice a day. You were pushing yourself so hard and he was worried about you. He knew that you struggled with your confidence and body image so he didn’t want to discourage you. But he didn’t want you to hurt yourself either, nor did he want you to feel like you had to work out and change yourself for him or anyone for that matter. He knew that something had to be done and he was determined to get to the bottom of it. 

He decided to step in and do it all this morning. Normally it’d be an off day but since you were on seven days a week, you were getting up early to head downstairs to the gym. As you were moving to sit up, Harry tightened his grip around you, keeping your body down on the bed and against him. 

“Harry, you have to let me go.” You whisper back to him, trying to wiggle your way out of his grip. 

“No I don’t, you deserve a rest day anyways.” He mumbles back to you through a yawn, beginning to fully wake up as well. 

“I need to do this babe, I don’t be long.” You try and reason with him, still trying to release his grip from around you. 

“Okay fine, but can we please talk before you go down?” He bargains, even though he had no intention of letting you go down there. 

“Sure.” You agree, stopping your attempts to free yourself from his grip.

“Thanks baby.” He hums before unwrapping his arm from around you and sitting up in the bed to almost hover over your body. “So what’s going on?” He asks calmly yet  bluntly. 

“What do you mean?” You reply back to him with a puzzled look spread across your face to match your response. 

“You’ve been working out so much recently and it’s becoming a bit concerning sweets. I want you to reach your goal, I really do! I just want you to be healthy about it.” He softly points out to you, bringing his hand down to your cheek. 

“I’m fine Harry. I really want to reach this goal so I’m doing everything I possibly can.” You attempt to justify your actions over the past weeks, trying to steady your breathing a bit as well as you adjust to the touchy subject at hand. 

“Well I understand that and I’m so proud of you for going at this with that determination, I really am. It’s just that I don’t want you to be doing this because of all the things going around online.” He explains, his voice filled with  worry and concern. “I know it’s hard, but if you’re doing this, you should be doing this for you baby. That’s it.” He adds. 

When he says this, your heart sinks. You weren’t doing this for you. And you didn’t want him to find out your actual reasons for working out seven days a week and practically killing yourself because if he did, which he ultimately was, it was going to crush him. And the last thing you wanted was for him to worry about you. You could see all the worry and concern painted all over his face and you hated it. You hated it so much that you began to cry, not being able to hold back the tears that were already bubbling up in your eyes. 

“Oh my-baby please talk to me!” He begs, wiping the tears that were falling from your eyes. 

“It’s just so hard Harry. I’ve never had this many people coming at me about the way I looked. The only people I had to worry about before with this were myself and anyone I came in contact with. But now it’s everyone and it’s too much. I just want them all to shut up and leave me alone.” You rush out through your tears, completely breaking down below him. 

“I’m so sorry baby.”

“The only reason why I’m working out so much and trying so hard to get through it all is because I love you so so much. I can’t go back to that dark place anymore, I just wanna stay out here in the light and happiness with you. It’s just so hard when you have so many people coming at you all at once and it makes you want to just give in so that you can have peace.” You sob. When Harry hears this, his heart breaks into a million pieces. He was assuming full responsibility for this. He felt like if it wasn’t for him entering your life, you wouldn’t be completely broken before him right now.

“I’m so sorry that you’re going through all of this baby. It’s all my fault and I feel horrible for even putting you in this position.” Harry sighs, feeling tears beginning to form in his eyes as well. 

“But it’s not-“ 

“It is my fault.” He quickly interjects. “You’re going through this torture because of me and I’m so so sorry. I love you so much baby and I wish that I could just end all of this for you.” He whimpers, feeling the hot tears streaming down his face. 

“I love you too Harry. And it’s not your fault.” You reiterate, making it clear that you didn’t blame him for any of this. 

“I just need you to remember that I love you so much. I love all of you so much.” He says firmly to you, locking his eyes with yours to really reach you. He couldn’t stress how beautiful you were in his eyes enough. You were absolutely amazing to him and he just wanted to touch and admire you all the time if he could. He wanted to constantly shower you with all the love and affection you deserved. He wanted the girl he loved to know that she was absolutely stunning and that he couldn’t get enough of her. He needed you to know that. It was so important to him that you know how beautiful you were.

And he planned on making sure you knew just how beautiful you were. He quickly wipes his face before pulling your legs apart and moving in between them.

“Harry what are you doing?” You ask at his sudden movements. 

“Shh, just let me love on you baby.” He coos down to you before bringing his lips to yours. The kiss is soft but filled with passion. You could feel it radiating off of Harry and down onto you. As he continues to kiss your lips, you feel his hands glide down your body, tugging up at hem of the shirt you slept in. Keeping his lips on yours, he pulls it up your body detaching his mouth when he pulls the shirt off of your body, leaving you in just your panties below him. “You are so beautiful.” He admires, taking in your pretty much naked body. Everywhere he looked he found something that he loved. There was no part of you that he hated. In fact, anything you hated, he loved.

Without wasting anymore time, Harry jumps right into his praising session so to speak. He starts at your lips, leaving you one final kiss before leaving a trail of kisses down the lower portion of your face and neck, going all the way down and stopping at your chest. He brings his hands up to your ample breasts and he cups both of them in his hands. He then lifts his head up a bit to lock eyes with you.

“I love these so much. They’re so pretty and they fit perfectly in my hands.” He whispers, bringing his mouth to one of your breasts and capturing one of your nipples in his mouth. He then begins to suck on you, using his hands to squeeze wherever he couldn’t have his mouth. As he did this, your eyes fluttered shut and your mouth hung open, allowing little moans to escape as you enjoyed the physical and emotional pleasure you were receiving from Harry. Even though it was just the beginning, you knew what he was doing because he’d done it many times before. And every time he did it, you had the same reaction. You were in a completely blissful state and you felt loved every single time. Those feelings were only intensified since you and Harry talked and you really expressed what you were going through. And now that you let all of that out, you felt lighter and you were so ready to feel good again. Harry then removes his mouth from your breast and latches onto the other, doing the exact same thing as before. Squeezing your flesh and rolling your nipple between his fingers as he sucked on the other. He continues on like this a little longer before moving down your body.

“I love this tummy of yours.” He hums delightedly, leaving kisses all over the area, making sure to leave kisses along your sides as well, nipping at your chub every once in a while too. “Can’t wait to put out baby in here.” Harry hums, enjoying the idea of having a baby with you. 

“Oh my goodness Harry!” You chuckle through your labored breaths. 

“You’d look so pretty, maybe even prettier than you already are if that’s even possible.” He praises, smoothing his hand across your empty stomach. Harry then moves on to the next part of your body. 

“I love these hips.” He groans biting into and kissing the flesh of your hips. “Love grabbin’ them when I fuck you. So good.” He sighs, thinking back on the times he’s pushed into you. He then moves even lower. He begins to leave kisses along the side bands of your panties, bringing his mouth closer and closer to where your need was mounting. But instead of going there, he keeps going down and stops at your thighs. 

“I don’t know if I told you this, but I’m in love with your thighs. Like they’re absolutely delicious and amazing.” He rambles up to your before biting into one of them, squeezing the other as he did this. Harry loved how fleshy your thighs were. He couldn’t get enough of how they quaked and jiggled when he fucked into you. They were so soft and plushy, how could Harry possibly resist them?! Once he’s done loving on your thighs, Harry lifts himself up so that he’s kneeling between your legs before quickly pulling you onto your side to give your ass a couple swats, causing you to yelp out to him from how it stung. “I didn’t forget about your ass either baby, I love pulling it apart and having my face buried in it.” He says before pushing you back into your original position below him. 

“And now to the last stop.” He announces, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties before tugging them down, lifting your legs up to fully pull them off. He tosses them to the side and spreads your legs for him, revealing your soft and puffy center. “I love your pussy. It’s magical if m’being completely honest. It’s all puffy and  warm and sticky. It’s just the best. Feels amazing around my cock and it tastes amazing on my tongue.” He heavily praises before going in. He could see that you were already dripping so he knew that it wouldn’t take long at all to make you let go in his mouth.

With his mouth on you, Harry licks a wide stripe up your folds, pushing his tongue into you. When he does this, your hands go straight to his hair and your thighs begin to close a little around his head, prompting Harry to moan a little and rut his now hard cock against the bed. Even though this was all about you, Harry couldn’t stop himself from getting hard. In fact, he got hard because it was about you. Anything you did had the power to turn him on. He was constantly getting hard because of you. In fact, as he licked into you, Harry was rutting his hips down into the bed to relieve some of the pressure in his cock. All Harry wanted was to be wrapped up in you all the time. Just like now, Harry was eating you like his life depended on it as your thighs were wrapped around his head. While you were in heaven, Harry was in heaven as well. As he continued on, your were absolutely losing it too. His mouth felt absolutely amazing on you. You were already buzzing from the way he practically worshiped your body so now that he was full on eating you, you were incredibly close to letting go. 

“Feels so good!” You moan out to him, feeling a warmth spreading throughout your body. “Think m’gonna cum.” You pant, tightening your grip on him. To push you right over the edge, Harry moves his tongue up from your entrance and just sucks on your buzzing clit. This does the trick perfectly. As you let go, Harry could feel himself getting closer to his own release so he continues to push himself back and forth against the bed. 

Once you’re all done and your body goes limp, Harry leaves a kiss to your clit along with a kiss to each of your thighs, both of your hips, your stomach, and both of your breasts before stopping at your face.

“I love you.” You hum lazily, still recovering from your release. 

“I love you too baby.” Harry hums with a little chuckle, enjoying how tired out you are. “I love you just the way you are. I know it’s hard for you and I’m incredibly sorry for that. But we’ll get through it, right lovie?” 

“Mhm!” You mumble happily. 

“That’s right, and no more excessive workouts. If you wanna do some extra workouts, let me know so that we can have sex instead.” He proposes happily. 

“Can we “work out” some more then?” You breathe out.

“I’d love that. 

Masterlist

[billiedeanhwrd]

when i fell you were there, with your hands in the air

cordelia goode x fem!reader

summary: your depression is hitting you harder than most days, cordelia comforts you 🤍

warnings: depression, slight mention of childhood trauma, it's angsty mental health fluff basically

word count: 1.7k

a/n: this is my first ever fanfic and i'm very very nervous about it, so pls don't be too harsh, constructive criticism is very much welcome though!! also i'm sorry about any grammar mistakes, english is not my first language. i also have to add that this was very much self indulgent and based on my own experience with depression, so if you don't relate, that's fine, everyone experiences it differently. I hope you enjoy it tho, have fun reading <3

today was one of those days again. one of those days where everything seemed grey and pointless. one of those days where taking a shower was too exhausting. one of those days where it didn't matter if you left your clothes on the floor or a pile of dirty dishes in the sink. one of those days where you isolated yourself. one of those days that seemed to return to you every morning for almost 3 weeks now.

you had been struggling with depression for years now and attending therapy regularly still didn't take away from the embarrassment you felt about your illness. cordelia didn't know, you didn't want to burden her with your subjectively "silly" problems. It wasn't easy hiding something so life consuming from your lover, but whenever you were with her you felt as though you could reach for the stars and there was no point in ruining happy moments with sad stories.

Whenever you felt really depressed and unable to function, you isolated yourself. Cordelia and you had been together for 7 months now and the first time she thought she had done something wrong which had resulted in you needing space from her, but when she confronted you, you reassured her that sometimes you needed some time to yourself because you were a more introverted person. While that might be true, you wanted nothing more than for her to take you into her arms and tell you everything was going to be okay again, but the fear of possibly burdening the already very busy supreme held you back from confessing what was weighing you down.

you were used to this already, you always kept your darkness to yourself, too afraid of being too much or being abandoned by your loved ones, while the rational side of you knew that the people in your life who truly meant something to you would never abandon you because of your chronic depression, anxiety left no room for rationality.

you were always feeling kind of down, but some days it was easier to cope and enjoy your day despite that... and then there were those phases where you felt unusually down, those phases that caused you to isolate yourself and wait for the storm to pass in solitude. They usually lasted only a few days or maximum a week, but this one had been going on for much longer. cordelia was worried, you had never needed so much "alone time to recharge your social battery", but she didn't want to overstep your boundaries and possibly push you away, because what you weren't aware of was that cordelia too struggled with abandonment issues and fearing she would be "too much" (which she could never be for you, you adored every single second you could spend in the blonde witch's presence).

After leaving multiple text messages and trying to call you, only to be greeted by your voicemail, cordelia took it upon herself to see what was going on with you. The knocking on your door would've usually startled you, but you had just ordered a pizza, too tired to prepare a meal yourself and assumed the delivery was faster than they had stated on their website. your jaw fell open and the door was quickly closed again, shit shit shit, what am i supposed to do now? the place looks like a mess, i can't let cordelia se-

"y/n can you open the door please?" she asked in her gentle voice. "Uh, yeah, give me a second" you replied, hastily throwing on a hoodie that had been lying around on your couch, coincidentally that hoodie being one you stole from cordelia a few weeks ago, something that made your girlfriend's heart warm up a little and relieve her of some of the worried thoughts she had that this might be your way of signaling to her that you no longer wished to be in a relationship with her.

"can we talk? i haven't seen you in three weeks and you haven't answered any of my texts... what's going on? you know you can talk to me about anything..."

"uhm, yes, of course. sit down, make yourself at home, would you like anything to drink?"

"no, thank you, i just want to talk to you"

you didn't have the energy to lie to the woman who held your heart in her hands anymore, you were terrified of her reaction, not only to you being mentally ill but also to you hiding it for so long.

"i'm so sorry delia, please don't be mad", you anxiously stuttered out. cordelia grabbed your hand and smiled reassuringly, signaling for you to continue talking.

"I didn't tell you before because i know you've already got so much going on with the academy and i didn't want to pile onto that with my irrelevant issues... I was diagnosed with depression amongst other things a few years ago, it's something i have to deal with every day and some days are easier than others, but sometimes it all comes crashing down on me and i feel like i'm lost in an ocean of a sadness so powerful, i can feel the pain on my body. I know it can be challenging to be close to someone with severe mental issues and I understand if you don't want to continue being with me, i would never want you to stay with me because you pity me or because you're afraid i'd do something to myself if you'd left, you're not responsible for my feelings or actions and i would never want to impose you with such a burden and-"

you stopped rambling when you noticed the tears flowing down cordelia's cheeks.

your eyes widened and your heart started pounding rapidly in your chest. "i'm sorry, was that too much?"

"no, no, no, no, no... it just pains me to know that you've been dealing with this on your own for such a long time because you don't value yourself enough to believe that other people might want to support you through your everyday battles. y/n, i know you, you're the girl who's always there when someone else needs a shoulder to cry on, anytime, anyplace, you always go out of your way to make others feel seen and accepted, why would you ever think that you don't deserve the kindness you so openly give to others?"

now it was you who was crying, cordelia was right, you didn't value yourself enough to believe that. you didn't actively think of yourself as less than others but that thought always unconsciously motivated the way you dealt with the things that were bothering you.

cordelia patted her lap, signaling for you to sit on her lap and come into her arms. you hesitated though, you weren't used to being so vulnerable and open with your emotions and it scared the shit out of you. you feared cordelia was possibly annoyed at you and was only doing this to get it over with and then get out. she watched you, while you were anxiously deciding what your next move would be, her heart broke for you, you looked like a scared baby dear when all she wanted to do was to comfort you.

"baby, look at me"

her chocolate colored eyes were so full of love, simply looking into them managed to get your heart rate down.

"it's okay, i'm not mad at you for talking about your feelings and all i want to do right now is to hug some of your pain away, so please, let me hold you"

you melted at her gentle words and understanding nature, cordelia was an incredibly smart woman, who went through traumatic things herself and even from that little information you shared, she understood you. she saw her younger self in you, so incredibly lonely but oh, so scared of being vulnerable with another person, due to the emotional abuse her mother subjected her to, and while she might not have gone through the same things you did, she felt like she understood your feelings in this exact moment and she wanted nothing more than to make you feel safe with her.

you slowly crawled into her lap, still afraid this was all a trick to hurt you, but when she started combing through your hair and reassuringly whispering "i've got you" and "you're here with me, i promise you, you're safe", you relaxed into her arms.

after about half an hour of laying there with each other, calming down and enjoying the other one's warmth, you spoke up.

"delia?"

"yes, my love?"

"so you're not leaving me?", you hesitantly asked.

cordelia sat up and looked straight in your eyes while asking "would you leave someone you love because they're depressed?"

"no, never"

"then tell me, sweetheart, why would i leave you?"

her response left you speechless, you almost missed her confessing her love. "you love me?"

she hugged you tight and pressed a kiss on your forehead. "more than anything, and please, never worry about telling me about what's going on in that pretty little head of yours, no matter what it is, i wanna know, okay?"

you let out the breath you didn't know you were holding and confidently replied "okay"

a few minutes passed before you spoke up again when you remembered you didn't say those 3 special words back.

"i love you too, by the way"

cordelia smiled lovingly and stood up to reach out for your hand and pull you up. "i know, now let's go to bed, we can clean up this place tomorrow"

you accepted her helping hand and engulfed her in a hug. the way she so naturally used the word "we" and didn't seem to mind helping you clean up your mess of an apartment made you more emotional than you'd like to admit.

And while you knew this would not be the last time you were overwhelmed by your depression, you now knew that you could count on the woman who loved you to stand by your side and help you get through even your hardest day.

[littlemissagrafina]

You'll be okay (Cause you're never alone)

(A female Peter Parker and irondad vent fic delving heavily into mental health. If any of the tags are triggering to you, please don't read it. Stay safe, loves.)

Read on AO3

Peyton knew she was loved, she did, but it didn't matter to her brain what she knew. It didn't agree with her. It never did.

When her body felt tired and her arms craved to wrap around her loved ones, her brain would be there trying to convince Peyton that her wants were a burden.

When her eyes wanted nothing more than to cry waterfalls of tears and her body shook with the shivers her anxiety left behind, her mind berated her, told her she was overreacting.

And when Peyton's heart ached with the burden of the sadness her mind bestowed upon it, her mind was there with thoughts of doubt of the love she knew from her family, with fears and losses amplified until she was drowning in a never ending sea of emotion. 

A deep ocean she never let out. All thanks to the words her mind spun around and around in her head, some with no foundation, and some that were all too true.

Peyton never was able to tell which ones hurt more. Those built from truth or those from doubts. It was something she didn't ever think she would know for sure.

What she did know, however, was that she couldn't escape from either kind.

Those borne from doubts could at least occasionally be rationalised far easier than those borne in truth.

But the ones that had a foundation of fact… they ached. They burned and twisted in a way that was different from the doubting ones. 

They settled into her chest and tightened until she couldn't breathe.

They couldn't be softened the way that doubt born ones could, and as such, they haunted Peyton far worse than any other.

They followed in her every interaction, every move, every word she spoke. It was what had forced her to hide herself away and for the weight to all start building upon her back in the first place.

They stemmed from May and Peyton hated that her aunt, her mother in all but blood, was the start of her spiraling that she tried so hard to hide.

Peyton loved May with all of her heart and she knew that the woman loved her just as deeply. They were so close and such a part of each other… but that didn't take away from the way May's views, misunderstanding, and ignorance had affected Peyton.

It didn't change the years of being told everything would be fine and that she was smart, she couldn't possibly be struggling with anything. 

"You just have to apply yourself more, Sweetheart."

It didn't change the countless bad days where all Peyton had wanted to do was curl up in her bed and not get up only for her aunt to say that she had no reason to be sad.

"I know things have been hard in the past, Pey, but we're fine now. There's no reason to be sad."

It didn't change the many times that May had dismissed her when Peyton had tried to bring up her thoughts on possibly being ADHD.

"You're not hyper, Peyton. You can't have ADHD."

And it didn't change the time when she finally said she battled with anxiety only for May to tell her, "Just don't be anxious then."

Moments like those were repeated over and over again for years until Peyton eventually gave up. 

She started hiding her fear of school.

Her depression was covered by fake smiles and countless jokes in a bid to be okay.

Lack of concentration and daydreaming was disguised as thinking about homework or a new idea for her lab time with Mr. Stark.

Shaking hands and anxiety hives were brushed aside as needing something to eat and her shirts or hoodies making her itch.

Slowly but surely, Peyton became a master of excuses. Although many of them she probably only got away with due to her aunt's decidedly bad observation skills.

Maybe that was one of the reasons she was able to get away with the occasional nights of blood slowly dripping down from her thighs to swirl down the shower drain. It had become her release, her escape.

An injury from patrol or her own general clumsiness used as an excuse for the bandaids that became more and more likely to disappear from their shared bathroom cabinet.

Through it all, May was none the wiser to the war her niece was waging on and within herself.

Tony Stark, however, he was a different case. He noticed things that most took for granted. He used his cocky and flashy media persona to distract from his eyes soaking in every detail he could from any situation he found himself in.

He was the one person that Peyton's own masks and acts didn't fool. He didn't always easily accept the excuses for the stray cuts that would appear on her arms or the dark, puffy circles under her eyes.

Tony wasn't like May in that way.

And so it sadly came as no surprise when he noticed after one too many weeks of Peyton being entirely too reckless with her pocket knife, when the cuts on her thighs became deeper than they had before and her healing took longer to stop the bleeding.

The constant craving for the pain had snuck up on Peyton until the escape she found was one she could no longer escape from.

Peyton had foolishly hoped that she could get away with it for a while longer even though she knew she had to be stopped, no matter how much she didn't want to.

Her hopes were for nothing and it was all thanks to a single pair of grey sweatpants.

---

The second and fourth weekends of each month were reserved for Peyton and Tony to go upstate and spend the two day weekend (from the time Peyton left her last class on Friday to Monday morning when Tony would drop her off at Midtown) at the compound.

In the early days they had used to train in the larger, more well equipped gym as well as more complex suit enhancements.

Now, however, it was still used for those things at times but it had become far more of a mini getaway for the two of them. Occasionally they would be joined by Pepper or Rhodey but for the most part it was the two of them.

It was routine. Something familiar and comforting in the reliability of the twice a month escape.

As such, Peyton's self-harm habits had formed a routine around these weekends as well. It was one of the few times she restricted herself to not cutting at all apart from the friday morning before school.

Usually, those cuts would be scabbed over and partially healed by the time Tonh picked her up. 

Today was not a usual day.

Thanks to the sudden cold brought by an early winter cold spell, a lot of Peyton's energy was spent by her metabolism trying to keep her body warm and stop her from going into hibernation. 

Add that to the new depth and disregard of the far more frequently added cuts on her thighs and you get a healing factor that doesn't have the resources to work as it normally does.

Peyton hadn't thought of that when she had shakily re-opened the cuts in the hidden second floor bathroom after her last class. The only thing that had registered was the leftover surge of anxiety from Flash's recent bullying and the sudden single minded craving to split her skin open.

Realising the time when Tony sent her a message telling her that he was in the parking lot, Peyton folded up toilet paper and roughly bundled it between her thighs and pants to stop any of the blood from seeping through on her jeans. 

She could deal with it later when she changed at the compound.

---

Unsurprisingly, she didn't deal with it, instead she flushed the wads of toilet paper down the toilet before changing into a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie so she could be comfortable in the lab.

Her first mistake.

Her second mistake came from forgetting that the sluggishly bleeding cuts would eventually start to coagulate and scab. And that they did. Against her sweatpants.

Her last mistake?

Well, that was jumping up after sitting in the same position for two hours. Two hours that had her cuts start healing before they were re-opened thanks to her sudden movement.

Peyton couldn't stop the wince at the pain of the scabs peeling back as her pants shifted on her legs.

She was unaware that her mentor (read: unofficial father) had been glancing at her at times as he tried to piece together the puzzle of her increasingly strange behaviour that had formed over the last months.

As such, Peyton didn't see the way his face paled when he noticed the blood on her pants. Fear and sadness filling his heart as all the pieces were put together. It had all been right there in front of him, sign after sign, and he'd missed every one.

"Peyton." The man said, getting up from his workbench and moving towards her.

"Hmm?" Peyton hummed, ignoring the fabric tugging on her thighs as she turned to face him.

The look Tony fixed on her made Peyton pause, her eyes following his when they subconsciously flickered to the red stain on her pants. In seconds she felt the blood drain from her face and her fingers get the tell tale tingling of her anxiety flaring.

Before Tony could speak, she was rising with a well practiced excuse on her lips. "I'm so sorry. I have my period and… lemme just go change and clean up and I'll be back in a bit."

She made it to the elevator before a hand on her shoulder stopped her in her tracks. 

"Don't do this, Peyton."

"Do what?" Her feigned confusion was almost believable but Tony saw the way her hands quivered slightly at her side as she shrugged his hand off and stepped into the elevator.

Tony followed.

"Don't lie to me. Make excuses."

The doors closed and it was silent as they moved up to the living room.

After a few moments, Peyton shook her head. "I'm not–"

Tony guided her to face him. "Your period was two weeks ago, the last time we came up here. I know because you were annoyed at your nausea and cramps keeping you from trying out the new aerial bars in the gym."

The doors opened and Peyton walked out, moving towards her room and trying in vain to think of an excuse, a protest, anything to get herself out of the inevitable. 

Before she could get out of the living room, Tony caught her sleeve, stopping her in place.

"You're not okay, I see that. If this is–" Tony cut himself off, drawing in a short breath. "You are hurting, Bambina, no matter the form. I want to help you but I need you to talk to me. Please."

It was almost as if the wind was taken out of Peyton's sails. Her head droped and she let out a tired breath.

"You're right," Peyton finally admitted, words spoken so softly that Tony had to strain to hear her. 

The admission hurt Tony to hear. He'd known, but he had still wished in vain to be wrong.

"I– uh. It's not– I don't…" She didn't know what to say, didn't know how to explain or to say anything at all.

None of the words were the right ones for what she needed to say and to finally get out after so many years of keeping them locked away.

And then it all came rushing in. The realisation that someone knew. The terror of the reality of Tony, the man who was practically her father, finding out what she had done, what she did, to herself.

"Roo." A hand cupped Peyton's cheek grounding, her from the flood of emotion and thought. She looked up, blinking through the tears building in her eyes and met Tony's own teary ones.

She let out a whimper, "I'm not okay."

And she broke.

She sobbed, and she hiccuped, the force of her cries sending tremors through her body but Tony only cradled her in his arms. He held her together so she could let herself fall apart, and fall she did.

Through her tears she explained everything. All of her doubts, her fears, her anxieties, sadness, and the expectations she felt she could never live up to.

She told him about the nights cried herself to sleep and the nights where she was too numb and tired to rest. She told him of the words said to her that she couldn't help but take deeply and personally, no matter the true meaning behind them.

And she told him about the anxiety attacks, about the dissociation, and (most heavily) about the self harm. How it was sometimes the only escape she felt she had, even above her patrols or her missions as Spider-Woman.

Through it all, Tony listened. He didn't try to interrupt, he didn't tell her she was wrong or making anything up, he only listened. 

For the first time, Peyton felt as if she was truly heard.

Her tears eventually stopped, only the occasional sniffle left behind. Her dad's arms never left their place wrapped around her. They only moved when Tony shuffled them across to the couch where Peyton immediately curled into his arms again.

"I'm sorry I'm so messed up. I know I'm not okay but I'm sorry that I just dumped it on you like tha–"

"Peyt, Bambina, it's okay. It's okay." Tony's eyes were earnest, nothing but love and truth in them as he looked down at her. "This is going to sound cheesy, I know, but it is okay not to be okay."

He sat up slightly, shifting until Peyton was facing him on the couch. "I'm not going to lie, this is going to be one hell of a time to get through and past, but we will get you help and I will be by your side to support you through all of it."

Peyton chewed on her lip, fingers subconsciously digging into the tops of her thighs before Tony curled her palms into his own.

"Talk to me, Pey, what's going on in your head?"

"I'm scared." Peyton hesitated before admitting it. She was silent again, almost warring with herself to get her next words out. "I dunno how to be different or who I am without the hurt or the hiding. And I don't know how to stop wanting to hurt myself or be clumsy so I get hurt on purpose. I know it's a bad and dangerous thing but I also don't want to stop. I don't know how to escape all of this."

She looked at her dad, scared that she would find disgust at what she had now said in words despite it already being discovered earlier with her stating it. "I'm scared that you'll hate me or be angry or disgusted that I'm like this."

At her words, Tony's eyes hardened, a fierceness in them that wasn't as strong moments ago. 

"Peyton Parker, if there is one thing I Will never ever hate you, be disgusted, or angry, alright? Never. Not for one fuckibg second. Do you hear me?"

Peyton, do you hear me?" Tony repeated when she only nodded.

"Yes. I hear you."

Tony nodded. "Good because it's never changing. We're gonna get you the help you need, baby. I promise you."

Not knowing how to thank him, Peyton settled for hugging him again, smiling for the first time that evening when she felt a kiss against her hair.

"I love you, Dad." She said without thinking, freezing slightly when she felt Tony tense before he relaxed.

Tony murmured back to her, before she could apologise. "I love you too, Tesoro." 

It was quiet, then. Heavy from all that had been said, but not uncomfortable or awkward.

Things weren't okay. But okay could wait, because in these seconds and moments, after all that had changed and happened that evening, there was peace.

---

Eventually Peyton would speak once more, her voice small and almost childlike in her need for guidance and assurance.

"We'll get through this?" She asked softly.

And Tony would answer, firm and sure. 

"We will."

[thistle-and-thorn]

my goal-setting manifesto

So recently @woodswit wrote a super thought-provoking post about struggling with the benefits of loving feeling fit and struggling with external validation regarding fitness and so this is kind of my reference guide for myself about goal-setting and the way *I* need to remember to think about it.

I minored in a very specific form of organizational management in college and a huge part of that curriculum was goal-setting. We were encouraged to make one-year, five-year, ten-year career plans, we learned how to set SMART goals, how to identify what steps were right for you, etc. Well, babies, I did not need this curriculum because in high school we had done this exact same curriculum. SMART goals, college planning, etc. Bitch, I knew how to plan my life and, bitch, I had it planned. I was a very high-achieving and ambitious student—I went after awards, AP scores, good grades, letters of recommendation. The school system I attended was very typical of an American school in that those things were the primary indicators for success and the “quality” of our grades determined our classes (and subsequently our social groups) and myriad other things. I was a “good girl” and bought into and benefitted from this kind of structure immensely.

Well. I also have struggled with severe anxiety and periodic depressive episodes that significantly interrupt my daily life and ability to care appropriately for myself. These disorders reached a critical mass at the midpoint of my college career and, after two very bad semesters (one of which ended with me getting a tiny sexy scar from fainting into a doorway), I realized I needed to make significant changes to my priorities. More specifically, I needed to examine the method by which I was defining and collecting achievement and validation. So, after much therapy (I love u Claire), soul-searching, several glasses of a very good local hard cider, I decided to write out the way I goal-set now that enables me to actually breathe and not spiral into self-hatred.

Why Do We Need Goal-Setting?

I actually think that goal-setting is deeply important. If you are a dreamer, I would even say that goal-setting is essential. Personally, I’m a planner/dreamer and enjoy setting goals. It comforts me. Getting a little organized around amorphous ideas like “I want to be a novelist” or “I wish I could travel the world” allows those things to become attainable.

Process and Product

I would say that there are two ways of thinking about goals:

1. Product-Oriented: This is the type of thinking that was taught in my management classes and is exactly what it sounds like. If you do these steps, then you will get x-result. An example of a well-written product-oriented goal is, “By Tuesday, I need to complete three research reports.” (This is true, and I completed them today motherfuckers.) It’s concise, attainable, and happens within a set timeframe.

2. Process-Oriented: This type of thinking focuses on what you will learn or benefit from accomplishing an activity. When I was teaching preschool, an example of this would be taking the kids for a nature walk or free drawing, basically doing an activity where there is no expected result. There is nothing to achieve, there is no medal. The work and the discoveries you make doing the work is the reward. A process-oriented goal would be, “I want to learn about characterization from writing this story.”

In woodswit’s example, she talks about the benefits that cardio exercise has on her mental health, how much happier and confident she is when she is doing a certain variety of exercise regularly. She also talks about how she used to do intense sports.

In this case, a product-oriented way to frame that discussion would be, “I want to get back to the weight I was when I was playing sports” or “I want to be able to lift fifty pounds again.” You will take smaller steps to reach that product—changing the way you eat, figuring out a plan for to work up to lifting heavier things. But the product-oriented way is ultimately a binary—you will either be able to lift fifty pounds or not, you will either reach the weight you were or you won’t. But the process-oriented way to think about these things would be, “I love biking and want to do more of it. Every weekend this summer, I will bike a different rail trail in my county.” The process-oriented method is less specific, but it takes that pressure away from your performance—in the biking example, the only expectation that is set is that you’re going to travel to different bike trails, not that you have to go to every rail trail in the county or that you have to complete the whole trail when you go or that you have to do it in a certain time, just that you are going to go.

There is space for both of these methods, and they are best used in conjunction with each other. Product-oriented is useful, especially in financial situations. A goal for 2022 is to visit my childhood best friend in her new home, halfway across the country. Say I want to go in May 2022 and I figure out that it will cost me roughly $2000. I should probably set a goal with steps to save $2000 by May. It’s also beneficial for the smaller steps to bolster your path to your big dreams—When I was a kid, playing piano gave me a lot of discipline and I would like to have that habit again. That is a process-oriented way of thinking about playing music, but you will probably need to set smaller, product-based goals to achieve it—you will need to select a song and learn to play it, within that song you will need to master it measure by measure.

When we are trained to reach for product, it is hard to recognize the value of process-orientation. A phenomenal example is my WIP. The story I am writing now has 3% the amount of kudos as my biggest fic. I also had a goal of updating every Tuesday. By product standards, that story is a flop. It has the least amount of engagement of anything I’ve ever written, and I haven’t updated it in like two weeks. However, why do I write? I write because I enjoy it, I write fanfic specifically to practice new skills. This story has stretched my abilities and I’ve grown from working on it. By process standards, it’s the most successful of my fics.

And in terms of bigger life things? Process-oriented is the way to go. Why? Because if the pandemic taught us anything, it is that life is not linear. It is nearly impossible to set a straight path—be it up a corporate ladder or a fitness goal—why? Because life sucks. Someone dies, you become ill, it rains, you fall in love, you fall out of love—minute inconveniences happen every day. Process takes the pressure off of your performance because you can’t perform all the time. This is essential in fitness goals because our physical state is especially ephemeral. Of course, it happens in other areas of life, too. An example: In the autumn of 2017, I fell into the deepest depression I have ever been in before or since. I could not remember to shower, let alone do my anthropology homework. As a result, for the first time, I was struggling to create the basic products—like, you know, homework—expected in my classes. That was even more devastating. Around the midpoint of the semester, I realized that product was not sustaining me and if I didn’t want to drop out or harm myself when I “failed”, I had to change my approach.

Once my classes became less about “I need to feel my Middle East studies requirement so I can get a History degree and get an A so I can get on the Dean’s List,” and I reconnected with, “I want to learn a lot about the Middle East,” the products came more naturally. They came more imperfectly, too, but I was able to complete the product because I put less pressure on making them to a certain standard. It became easier to recommit to my goal of being a college-educated woman when I remembered the why of receiving a college education. In woodswit’s original post, she acknowledges that the definition of intense exercise is different for every individual. But it’s also different for the individual at different points in their life and recognizing that intensity and success are arbitrary standards is an essential part of reframing your goal-setting as being process-orientated.

How Do I Goal Set Now?

I still goal-set and a lot of my goals could be likely defined as product-goals. However, they are all made with a long view in mind—if I set a goal to run a 5K, what am I going to get out of it besides just saying that I can run a 5K? Here are ways that I stay process-oriented throughout:

1. Goal Periods

I have three times of year when I set goals: January, June, and Lent. I will set a date on the calendar every year to sit down and just think about what I want to accomplish just in the next twelve-month period and what vision I have for myself in three to five years. No more than that.

January is when I set my personal goals and June is where I set my professional ones. I keep a spreadsheet throughout the year of experiences I would like to have. I will look to this list for inspiration. In January and June, while goal-setting, I check in with the opposing goals. So, in June, I checked in with my progression on my personal goals. I rethought if those goals were still realistic and if I was benefitting from them and in what ways. Then I recommitted to them or adjusted them to help me reach them.

2. Holistic Goals

Unless it’s curing cancer, there is no single goal worth putting all the rest on hold for. Each goal is a battle, and your life is the war. This is a deeply privileged example but: the goal of living independently the first two years out of college was probably achievable. But the effort to achieve that one goal meant that, like, six other personal and financial goals would not be met. So, I put off my career goals and stayed at home and taught preschool for two years. It meant a delay while it seemed like my other friends were growing up and achieving at faster rates, but the temporary strain of achieving a particular goal is sometimes worth it when it dominos into other opportunities.

3. Goal Bundling

I bundle my goals now as a part of my goals check-ins. An example of this is: I loved studying abroad and would love to spend more extended time in the country I studied in during undergrad. I would love to go to graduate school. Ipso facto, presto change-o, I should look at graduate programs in that country and see if that is an achievable goal.

This post is a good example of all of this lol. Why did I write it? there won't be an audience for it but the process of setting all of these thoughts on to paper was cathartic, creating a reference guide on this topic for myself when I am depressed is important, and that has to, has to, has to be good enough.

[bellamyblake]

The perfect sleeping arrangement

for @star-sky-earth

Alternate Universe-Canon divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Smut, Mommy!Kink, Nightmares, Anxiety Disorder

Bellamy always tries to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders but at night he's breaking apart-anxiety and nightmares are tearing him up, yet he won't let Clarke take care of him. Unless she insists and he starts opening up to her. 

The only time Bellamy ever allowed Clarke to take care of him was at night.

During the day it was all about him doing everything he possibly could-going hunting, passing by medbay to bring her lunch, toss a scarf over her naked neck so she doesn’t get sick, ask her mom if she got anything for breakfast over her rolling eyes, make sure she comes back home before ten even though there’s a council meeting that night that he won’t attend because of his guard shift.

And it wasn’t just about her really-still, two years after they set their camp and started actually building it, he was taking care of the hundred as if they were his own children just like when they first landed-he brought Jasper a new jacket, fixed the roof of the co-joined cabin that Harper, Monty, Miller and a few other kids used, made sure to raid long-forgotten bunkers for winter supplies, participated in the shoveling of the snow, smoaking the meat from the game he had caught, helping Raven with the electricity solutions she needed figuring out as well as taking up as many guard shifts as he could especially during the winter when it was harder for the delinquents.

He even volunteered once a week in the small day care they opened last fall, reading books and telling stories to the kids in the midst of giving them a few history lessons here and there.

Overall he was stretching himself a little too thin and Clarke hated it even though whenever they fought about it, he always made sure to remind her that she’s no better than him.

And that may have been true but the thing was, he refused to let anyone ever take care of him, even her.

Even though he made sure she was fine all the damn time and it was the little things that broke her-him making her tea in the evening, bringing her hot water for her freezing feet and making sure she warmed up after her enthusiastic run in the back yard when the first snow hit, him tucking her up at night even when she kicked the blanket or finding the right kind of animal skin so he would sew her gloves for the winter.

He had even learned how to knit from a grounder woman during the summer festival and when they got back to camp he secretly traded a few sweaters for some yarn, only to start working on a beautiful blue scarf for her that he wrapped around her once the first winter days arrived.

It was great being with Bellamy but it was also heartbreaking, watching him give all of himself away and never expect anything in return.

Even when they kissed or had sex he always made sure she’s came first, always made sure to show her just how much he loved her, whispering words about her beautiful body in her ear as he teased her clit and bring her over the edge.

But when Clarke wanted to do the same, he’d try to get away, refusing the attention.

Some mornings she’d feel his hard cock against her butt and reach over to take him, turn around and kiss him, try to give him a good time but he’d kiss her forehead, mumble something like “I’m fine, princess, have to get to work, maybe some other time.” and slip away leaving her angry and sad that he just denied himself pleasure.

She knew why he did it, she had seen it from the moment back at that tree on their unfortunate day trip-he didn’t think he deserved it even though she had tried to make it known, even though she always made sure to show him how much he means to her, how much she loves him-but it wasn’t about that, it has never been about that-the fact remained-he didn’t believe he was worthy of being loved, of pleasure, even when it came from the person he cared for most in the world and who cared for him just as much in return.

The thing was, he tried to hide his problems away from her as well and that had been the last straw to turn things around.

At first it was his inability to sleep because of anxiety-he had a few days or even a week sometimes every month when he couldn’t sleep-nightmares plagued him and left him weak and exhausted but he would try to hide it from her at first until one night she came home and found him so tired that he had passed out by the hearth, having only just started the fire.

She can't even move him no matter how hard she wants to. She kneels down, puts her hands under his armpits and tries but he's so heavy. On top of everything he's all wet from the snow-his jacket's peppered with fastly melting snowflakes, his hair was drenched-the curls stuck to his forehead, he was freezing and she knew his boots leaked too, so she had to get him out of it and warm him up.

”Come on, Bell, wake up, let's get you to bed.” and he manages to wake up, get to a half-awake state but he's so out of it, like a drunk five year old who had absolutely no idea what was happening to him.

”C-larke?”

“Yeah, come on, please I can't lift you on my own."

“I'm tired.” he mumbles.

“I know, but you need to get to bed.”

“Why?”

“Because it's cold out here you'll get sick”

“I'm fine...it's by the fire...just...leave me”

“No, I’m not leaving you, come on, please.” she’s desperate at that point, feels her own tears picking up at her eyes.

“It's okay, I like it here.”

“It's the wooden floor, your back already hurts, it's time for bed, please help me, please,” he groans a little, too tired to even lift his head and look at her but then she adds “for me.”

And that does it.

He manages to lift his feet just a little so she can drag him to bed and spray him diagonally at first, then she starts undressing him slowly, he's moaning everything hurts him-he's absolutely exhausted, tired to his very bone, hadn't slept in days, worked all through it too on top of it.

He's a baby when she undresses him he goes “I’m cold.”  when he doesn't have clothes on or “Ohh, my feet!”  when she takes his boots off and finds his blisters.

She’s pretty sure he’s only ever saying that because he’s not coherent of anything happening around him and he’s just a child speaking his mind.

It wasn’t just a one time deal, though-it kept happening and it worsened significantly with the change of the seasons-when winter settled he got bad, really damn bad and his anxiety made him jumpy, sad and insomniac.

In the spring it was a little better but still quite hard and the hot summer nights would throw him into another nightmare spiral that could last a month and leave him absolutely exhausted until the autumn winds hit and allowed him to breathe somewhat.

She takes him to Jackson when she comes home one night to find him passed out in his work clothes again. This time he's too tired to fully wake so she has to pile the blankets and pillows on the floor and sleep with him there to make sure he's warm enough.

Clarke figures out quickly that he loves being spooned, held, kissed-he groaned content when she ran her fungers through his hair-he liked being warm but he didn’t wear clothes in bed except for his boxers and he enjoyed most of all when she tucked him in first after taking all of his clothes and then sliding in bed, wrapping herself like a monkey around him and holding him tight.

Jackson had prescribed him some anxiety meds but after talking to some grounders at the summer Polis trade between clans, Clarke found herbs they could use to brew as a tea for him to drink.

It didn’t always do the job but it helped significantly.

Still, she figured out he had a need for her late at night in those vulnerable moments and the more they occured, the more he allowed himself to be like this despite the constant battle in his heart.

He liked being pampered, liked her momming him, taking care of him like that.

But there was still something that tips the scales and it comes from the most unexpected places of all.

Second year around when the camp is up and running, all of them have to go through the mandatory health check ups.

Of course, Bellamy had tried to get away with his, sneak out but Clarke had grabbed him by the collar-literally and dragged him there for his mom to do it, knowing if it was her, they probably would end up with her pinned on the cot, him on top, pushing into her, instead of her taking in his pulse.

And that’s when it happens-her mom takes in his blood pressure and finds it too high, listens to his heart carefully and furrows her eyebrows as she focuses. Clarke feels the cold spread through her from her back through her entire body when her mom tells them things are out of norm but that if he takes some blood pressure medicine to regulate it, everything will be alright.

Clarke hates herself for it though-she should’ve noticed it sooner. She always let herself be held by him and she had noticed, as she rest her head over his chest, that his heart beat too fast but she thought it was just him being too tired or maybe the anxiety was making it worse for him but she never once thought something could be wrong.

That’s when things changed and she refused to let him get away with being taken care of anymore.

His heart beat became her good night lullaby.

During the day he was still Bellamy the guard, Bellamy the hunter, Bellamy the protector of his silly kids starting with Jasper, Bellamy the love of her life who brought her lunch.

But at night things shifted.

He’d sit in bed and wait for her to come out of the bathroom.

“Took your anxiety meds?” he nods seriously “The blood pressure ones?”

“Yep.”

“You sure?” he had  stupid phase where he tried not to take them for a few weeks so they could save recources and ration them and she hadn’t talked to him for days after.

“I’m sure, Clarke.”

“Good boy.” she praises as she comes over “Time for bed now.” she lays him down covers him up and he looks at her with big brown beautiful eyes.

”You coming?”

“Right in, you big baby.” she promises as she leans over and kisses his forehead.

“Can you hold me?” he’s learned to ask for that with time and she had made sure to show him how proud she was of it.

“Of course.” she tucks him in and then quickly slides in on the other side of bed, wrapping herself around him, her arm over his chest and leg thrown over his. Her other one sneaks under his neck and she pushes his head to her chest so that he’s a little lower than her and her chin cover his head. That way she had quick access to his hair and she runs her fingers through his curls gently, helping him relax.

Because at night she sleeps deep, she doesn’t always hear when he wakes up from his nightmares or terrors and the only thing betraying him would be the dark circles under his eyes in the morning, so she has to ask every night how the previous one had been because only then would he be honest.

“How was last night?” he knows the question will come so he shivers a little as she holds him.

“Not too bad.”

“How many times did you wake up?”

“Once” he lies. She tightens her grip on his chest.

“Your shirt was soaked, Bell.” he shrugs and closes his eyes but she insists ”So? How many times?”

“Three.” he lets out quietly and she wraps herself tighter around him

“Why didn't you wake me up?”

“You know I can't.” she knew he wouldn’t, he never did. Unless she was there to scold him and force him to lay still while she took care of him after a night terror, he wouldn’t say a thing.

He had admitted once that he would wake up gasping for breath but force himself not to move too much and instead just stare at the ceiling while he calmed down so he wouldn’t wake her up.

She hated it. She hated whatever made him hate himself so much that he’d refuse to reach out even to her.

She knew it was about the way he was raised-his mom loved him according to his words and fond memories of her, but she was stern and had expectations for him especially after Octavia was born when the real hell began.

He had anxiety then too, night terrors as well, he may have developed this heart condition just because of the constant stress he was put under, he just had no way of knowing it.

One night as she was holding him he admitted he wouldn’t sleep at night after O was born, he’d check on her and his mom all the time, then sleep by the door when they knew there would be random check ups in Factory.

He’d fall off his bed as he tossed in his nightmare sleep, he’d shake all the time, grow restless or too tired, get angry sometimes-all signs of what he was still suffering from now.

Something else that happened lately as she came to find out-because he was so exhausted from his lack of sleep, he’d take short naps in hiding, away from her, so he wouldn’t bother her with his pain.

He’d go to the small overhang they had in the backyard where they kept the woods and sleep there and she’d hate it when he did that because it was so cold there she worried he’d get sick or he'd hide out in the kitchen while Murphy prepared dinner after bringing in the game he caught with the hunting party outside. He'd even spray on one of the metal tables at Raven and Monty's tent where they discussed plans for the camp.

So she knows, comes to figure out that spooning him and holding him helped a lot so all of this didn't have to happen. So he wouldn't have to hide away.

But something else did too.

Clarke would ask him if he’s okay, if she could do something else besides holding him but he’d of course shake his head and grumple a soft childish “I’m fine.”

She’d know better do, could always tell by the way he folds into her if he’s more vulnerable than usual, if it’s worse that night than the previous from the way his hands tremble or how he pushes his head into her hand looking for her touch.

In those nights, like tonight, she slides her hand down to hix boxers, digs in and pumps his cock to hardness.

He gasps a little, pushes his back into hers and looks up, searching for her eyes.

He doesn't want her to worry so much, so he tries to tell her it's okay but she wouldn't hear it and she jerks him off like this from behind. She knew exactly how he liked it by now-starting slowly, teasingly from the tip of his cock before sliding all the way down and cupping his balls for a moment before taking him in again.

His legs kick off the blanket just a little, he arches his back and she reins him in, calms him down, by kissing him softly, starting from his cheek, to his chin, sliding down to his neck, peppering him with her love, making sure to pay attention to all the freckles she sees in her way.

Her other hand is still in his hair-tucking at his curls, moving his head just the right way to expose more of him to her, give her a better angle as he gasps into her arms and calls for her untill he comes gasping, head buried in her chest, begging to be held, tighter, to be cuddled.

Finally, she lets him roll over when he's spent and he buries his head in her chest.

Clarke knows what he wants.

He loved sucking her tits after a good blowjob like this but she teases him a little like a boy who wants to be fed in the middle of the night but his mom's sleeping.

Bellamy buries his nose between her tits, breathes her in, lets her run her fingers through his curls, soft talk him, baby him until his quiet moans turn to desperate ones and he starts sucking, searching for her through her thin shirt.

“So impatient.”  she jokes “You want some of that big boy?”

He whines, writhes against her just a bit, searching for more like a desperate hungry kid.

“What's up?” she runs her fingers through his hair once more while he keeps trying to bury deeper into her, probably hating the fact that she decided to wear a shirt tonight but it was winter and she was cold. “You hungry?”

He groans, buries his head even closer, searches for her nipple but can't find it through the awful angle that her tits are in now that she’s laying on her side “Want me to lift that up for you?” she asks grabbing the hem of her shirt that is in fact one of his “Want to suck on mom's tits?”

He looks up then, moves away a little and she wants to laugh at how cute and adorable he is-his mouth hanging a little, saliva drooling on his chin from his desperate attempts to get to her tits.

He gives her a soft hurt look, his eyes so lost and desperate, the barest of nods and she just can't deny him when he does that-he’s so sweet, so gentle, so broken.

And so exhausted.

“Maybe this will help him fall into a fitful sleep.” Clarke thinks as she cups his cheek and runs her thumb over the dark circle under his eye.

He's so tired, it's the absolute picture perfect of a boy turned baby needing his mom and a hungry for his partner man.

She can’t handle it, would be lying if this wasn’t doing things to her too, so she raises herself up just a little and pulls her shirt off.

His reaction is immideate, he doesn’t even wait for her to fully lay back down when he takes the nipple of her right breast in his mouth and sucks on it hard.

He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her up closer to him, wants to feel all of her pressed to his body, needs to have her there with him.

He doesn't just kiss her he sucks on her like a baby that's expecting for milk to come and it leaves her gasping and thrusting into his leg at the feel of her own wetness pooling into her but it is him that breaks her heart- he's so desperate for love and affection it's absolutely devastating for her.

It's noisy, he's smacking on her like a hungry baby and he's beautiful, so damn beautiful.

But he also never forgets about her-he sneaks his hand down to her ass and squeezes it, which makes her panties drench with her wetness and she grinds a little into him but she doesn't need release-this is about him, just him.

He gets a little hard again but it's not about that either now-he just wants to suck on her breasts and move his hands down her ass then up her back, then to her stomach-he loves touching her stomach, the softness there, the round curves that make her arch her back a little, makes her moan above him, reach out and put her hand on his shoulders, looking for something to support her.

Then he goes down to her panties, sinks in a finger into her making her gasp as he moves to her other breast, smacking just as hard, desperate for her beautiful breasts, desperate to beheld in her arms, to be vulnerable around her but also to love her, to let it pour out of him in any way possible.

And when he's had enough of touching her he brings his fingers up, pulls away for just a moment so he could spread her wetness around her nipple before sucking onto it hard again.

“Bellamy-” she gasps and he moves away from her nipple for just a second, peppers her chest with soft little kisses, moves to the valley of her breasts, drags his tongue there before sucking onto the skin just above her right breast and pulling her closer to him by the waist.

“Bell-”

He moves away a little, looks up at her asking if he did something wrong, worrying like always but she just takes his face in her hands and pulls him in for a kiss. She’s as desperate to have him as he is her but Clarke knows this is about him, so after she lets him go they just pant a little, breathe with hurry and desperation after their recent endeavours.

Her hand falls to his chest, his fast beating heart and she wants to command it to slow down.

“Ready to fall now?” she asks and he sneaks a glance down to her chest again before he looks right up, not daring speak out his desires but trying to silently ask for them anyway.

Without words.

He could never speak for himself.

But she would.

“You can take one if you want to.” she prompts him gently tugging at his neck and pushing him back to her chest.

“You don’t mind?” he asks and his voice comes out too small, too scared for her liking.

Clarke hurries to shake her head.

“In fact I love it.” he tilts his head a little as if asking “Really?” and she smiles “I love having you so close at night.”

HIs head falls and he looks down for a minute, accepting her answer, but trying to gather up the courage to ask something else.

“Will you still hold me?”

“Of course I will.” she promises and he smiles, beams really in a way she rarely sees on him which makes her sad because he should be like this all the time.

He quiets down after but not before slipping his hand back in her pants and sinking three fingers into her again, it's like he just wanted to be there, always, being the Bellamy that he is, to always give in return.

She grinds a little into him, he pumps her some but then they settle.

She watches him, cups his cheek runs her hand through his curly bangs smiles and kisses his forehead.

He gets a little shy like what he wants of her is too much, too weird maybe but she confirms again with a little nod that says ”It's okay, you can go ahead” and he wraps his mouth around her nipple again and smacks like a baby until finally he quiets and they fall asleep like this-his fingers in her and his mouth on her-the perfect sleeping arrangement.

[felidaefighter]

Fears To Ease And Flesh To Mend

Ranboo and Tubbo find out that unzombifying a piglin is a bit different from unzombifying a villager, and they start off parenthood with quite a few complications and in a little over their heads. For the sake of their child, they may need to put awkwardness aside and ask for help.

[Sick fic, canon divergence, Phil and Techno meet Michael, lots and lots of piglin lore headcanons] ~20,000 words per chapter

Chapter Three of Four

     Ranboo knocked lightly on the door, and Tubbo opened it almost immediately, greeting him with a giant yawn. “Hi, Tubbo,” Ranboo said fondly. “Hi, Ranboo,” Tubbo replied through his yawn. Phil cleared his throat awkwardly from behind him. “Uh, hello, Tubbo. We haven’t… spoken in a while. Techno is here too.” Tubbo stared dead-eyed exhausted at him from inside, still holding the door open. “Yeah, been a while. Don’t think we’ve talked since you blew up L’Manberg.” Phil and Techno both made awkward grimacing noises, as Ranboo did the same. Tubbo rolled his eyes. “I’m letting all the cold air in. Might as well come inside. Michael’s room is upstairs.”

    As the three of them stepped in from the chill and shook off the frost from their coats and the snow from their boots, Ranboo looked at Tubbo, concerned. “You don’t look like you slept.” Tubbo shook his head. “Not really. I dozed off a few times in the armchair upstairs but I was too worried.” Ranboo nodded empathetically. He would’ve done the same. “Up the ladder,” Tubbo said, gesturing, clearly too tired for proper emphasis. Ooh boy. Looks like Ranboo was going to have to do most of the talking. Which was an issue, as Ranboo wasn’t too good at that.

    Ranboo was the second up the ladder, and could feel himself grow soft as soon as he laid eyes on his son. He greeted the little piglin, who, although still clearly not feeling great, acknowledged him in return. Phil, then Techno, stepped into the room, Phil treading ever-so-lightly with both his feet and his demeanor. Phil let out a sharp inhale and a wince when he saw Michael. “Ooohh. That’s a lot of bandages.” He inspected the situation as well as he could from across the room. “You did a good job of wrapping it. We’re gonna have to unwrap them all to make sure it’s been properly cleaned though unfortunately.” Tubbo swore under his breath at that, but he didn’t mean it harshly. It’d just taken them a long time to wrap.

    “Quite a lot of battle scars,” Techno remarked. If Ranboo was honest, their cautiousness wasn’t easing his worries as well as he’d have hoped it would. He moved subconsciously to Tubbo’s side; they were both feeling a little under scrutiny when faced with Phil and Techno, experts at this, and the worry they’d done something wrong. “May I?” Phil gestured to Michael as Techno leaned against a wall, and Tubbo nodded, Ranboo humming his approval. He stepped closer to the little piglin and crouched down beside the bed. Michael snorted at him. “Heyyy Michael,” Phil said softly, “I’m Philza. I’m gonna take off your bandages to look at your wounds now, okay?” 

    “I dunno why you’re tellin’ him in english. He probably only knows piglin right now,” Techno said, grinning when that earned him a harsh shush from Phil. “No comments from the peanut gallery unless you’re gonna help!” Phil very, very carefully unwrapped the bandage on Michael’s head, who was either too tired or too polite to try and stop him. He held a steadying hand on the other side of Michael’s head while he looked at the eyesocket, the edges of his flesh, and the place his ear used to be. Phil turned to Tubbo and Ranboo, who immediately squeezed eachother’s hands a bit nervously. Huh. Ranboo supposed they must’ve done that subconsciously. Definitely blaming the nerves for that one. 

    “You two did a pretty good job. He’s responsive and seems to have a general idea of where he is. I can’t say yet if there’s any internal damage, but he’s definitely been properly cured. I doubt there’s much you could’ve done to change the extent of his sores, too.” Ranboo and Tubo both exhaled in very obvious relief. Phil stood up with a bit of a stretching noise, and shot a pointed look at Techno. “You wanna make sure everything’s alright, mate?” Techno, very alarmed at having been put in the spotlight despite the audience in question being two socially awkward and exhausted teens, his best friend, and a half-dead toddler, immediately started to protest. 

    “You can’t test his cognitive skills without knowing where his language is at,” Phil prodded, teasing, “And you know my piglish sucks.” Techno hummed in thought, a little persuaded by the chance to brag/show off. “That is true.” Still, he seemed hesitant. “It’s ah-- it’s gonna be a little awkward since I’m not too great with kids and it’s been a while since I spoke piglish. Does this have to have an audience?” 

    “Yes.” Tubbo answered flatly. “Tubbo!” Chided Phil, but Ranboo didn’t exactly blame his husband. “I mean… you wouldn’t do anything to Michael, right?” Ranboo asked Techno, who looked rather offended at the question. “Of course not! Who do you take me for? I mean, Michael clearly isn’t an orphan anymore,” Techno joked to try to ease the tension, but while Ranboo nodded in acknowledgement and in an attempt at reassurance towards Tubbo, Tubbo narrowed his eyes. “Fine. But I’ve got my eye on you. You so much as move the wrong way and you’re going down.” 

    Phil muttered reassurances about Techno’s intentions at Tubbo while he gently placed his hands on Tubbo’s shoulders, leading him away and down the ladder. Ranboo sent one last, concerned glance towards Techno. “I won’t do anything,” Techno promised, “Except maybe ask him how he feels about government. But I doubt he’s gonna know what that is yet.” Ranboo nodded again and went down the ladder after Phil and Tubbo.

    Tubbo, as exhausted as he was, leaned on the wall by the ladder looking prepared to gain a second wind and scramble upstairs in a hurry if necessary. Ranboo was almost certain it wouldn’t be, but he felt a surge of love on seeing how dedicated and protective his husband could be. Phil hovered in the main area, not quite finding a seat, and spoke to the two more in-depth about Michael’s recovery.

    “Unfortunately, this isn’t the kind of thing that’s gonna heal overnight. Like I said before, he’s already been kinda oversaturated with magic just from his origin, so potions aren’t gonna seal up everything all nice and tidy.” Phil paced lightly while he spoke out of lack of something to fiddle with. Tubbo’s eyes watched him like a hawk, but his ears were most certainly more centered on making sure there was no commotion upstairs. 

    “The biggest concern is gonna be the parts of his skull that’re currently exposed,” Phil continued. “Keepin’ ‘em bandaged should be mostly fine, but you should disinfect it about three times daily with room temperature cloth. Not washed or anything, just pat him down. You’ll want to put a salve on there and the skin around the edge, too, so that when it heals the skin can grow back over. It’ll be scar tissue but it’ll keep him from coming down with anything. That’ll be best for the long run.” Ranboo scrambled to write all of what Phil was saying down, eager for the information.

    “Question, okay, uh, is there a certain type of each thing that we’ll need? And if so, where do I get it, or can I borrow it from you?” Phil chuckled lightly, and combined with the non-judgemental onslaught of information, both Ranboo and Tubbo both were starting to relax. “Of course you can mate,” Phil replied fondly, “You need it more than I do right now. I can go on an errand run for you both after Techno’s done here.” He turned sympathetically to Tubbo at that. “You look like you could use some rest.”

    Tubbo sighed, finally letting his guard down a little. “Honestly, I probably would’ve been asleep ages ago if I weren’t so damn worried about Michael. I reckon I could’ve fell asleep standing up a few times and wouldn’t’ve known.” Ranboo nodded in understanding. The only reason he hadn’t been stopped from sleeping is because he tended to run on anxiety almost all of the time anyways. It looked like he was going to be spending most of his time in the coming weeks running back and forth between his own house and Snowchester; he didn’t mind, though. 

    “Thank you, Phil. Honestly, thank you.” Ranboo paused before asking the one thing that had mainly been on his mind. “I’m just surprised that you and Techno aren’t--” Phil interrupted abruptly. “The health and safety of a child will always come first.” After realizing his tone was a little harsh, he sighed and continued more carefully. “Techno and I feel how we feel. We haven’t really had a chance to process anything yet. Give us a bit to do that first yeah?” 

    Ranboo nodded. “Yeah. Yeah. That makes sense, actually. Of course.” Tubbo, having figured out what that was all about, spoke up. “I was wondering about that!” A second wave of realization hit him and he turned to Ranboo. “Wait, you told them???” He hissed in a lowered voice. “My son lives at your house! I think they woulda figured it out!” Ranboo replied in the same tone. “Our son!” Tubbo corrected, half-offended. In the background, Phil was covering his mouth, stifling a chuckle at the bickering couple. 

    They were interrupted when heavy footsteps came down the ladder, and instantly parted to make way for the large piglin. Techno turned to Ranboo. “He’s a toddler, so like, his words? Ain’t really that great to begin with. But uh cognitively I think he’s doin’ fine. He can understand and respond to most questions at least, even if his responses tend to be ninety percent gibberish. At any rate it probably won’t be tough to teach him english. Toddlers man. They’re fast learners.” It was very obvious the only thing stopping him from making a joke about drop-kicking toddlers was Tubbo’s death glare and how awkward he already felt about the whole business.

    Phil clapped his hands together. “Right! Well, Techno and I are gonna head back home, and I’ll run that delivery for you. Remember what I said about re-wrapping and applying the ointments and salve and stuff. Don’t worry too much about his ear canal yet, I’ll get some drops, and make sure he’s eating slowly and steadily throughout the day as opposed to regular mealtimes. I’ll be back later. You two have got this for now, yeah?” 

    Ranboo and Tubbo, rather startled at the abruptness of it all, hummed and muttered agreements and nodded while Ranboo double-checked he’d written that all down. “Goodbye Tubbo. Ranboo,” Techno said, following Phil out the door. As it shut behind them, Ranboo turned to the smaller man. “Should we follow them out?” Tubbo had almost immediately closed his eyes and went back to resting against the ladder. “I want to,” he said, and Ranboo understood. Knowing Tubbo’s house as well as his own, he retrieved a bedroll, blanket, and pillow from a chest, hauling them up to Michael’s room, and then went downstairs and retrieved his husband. 

    He kind of just dropped Tubbo on the pile, who stayed exactly where he’d landed. “Sleep,” Ranboo intoned, and Tubbo groaned in response. He was asleep almost moments later. Ranboo sighed fondly, and glanced at Michael. The little piglin was asleep as well. He paused. There was a serenity in the moment, his own little family all worn out from a day of healing. As silently as possible, he pulled the blankets over them both, then settled into the armchair to watch over them.

[mochikeiji]

Rockabye, My Love

↠ Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x Reader

↠ Warning: slight fluff, soft father/daughter moments, angst. Trigger Warning: mentions of death, depression.

↬ Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Every lyrics had a deeper meaning in them than just words that'll fit a song. Yours was heavier than anyone could think of, and Akaashi was singing it to his beloved baby girl.

↣ a/n: ohayo world! I'm sorry for late posts, expect the upcoming ones soon. School was giving too much works again. Thank you all for loving my Day 2 fic in Akaashi Week!! Also, the lullaby in this lyrics is the same tune as Isabella's Lullaby from The Promised Neverland.

⇢ Day 3: Single Parent AU

"Love, don't you worry too much,

You're doing fine.

You are the most precious thing I have loved.

I will never allow the cruel world to take you— away nor hurt you any more.

I will sing you this song when the world, caves on.

You'll be fine, I will never leave you.

You are the most beautiful thing that has came.

I will protect you forever, my love."

Life is difficult in many ways. It's either we were born different, have lost someone dear or have lost ourselves. It's no wonder how millions of people from all around the world, evert second, minute, hour— someone gives up on everything. It was cruel, disturbing, most of all heart breaking.

Akaashi never understood your true intentions. He was one hundred percent sure he had kept an eye on you at all cost. He's made you smile brighter, he's understood you more than anyone. He made you feel alive.

Yet now you ended up being dead to your own inner demons.

He remembers coming home after receiving good news from his company. He had received a promotion and a week off just for you. That was when the hospital had contacted him. He can recall his ragged breathing when he was allowed to place a foot in your room. Your monitor beating in an ever agonizingly slow rhythm, he knew it wasn't normal and immediately ran to your side.

He wanted to yell, scream, ask you why, why did you do this to yourself but he couldn't, not when you looked at him so scared and weak. The doctors had told him that he had only a few minutes with his wife, the drugs you've intake was too much, not everything was removed nor pumped out of your system. Akaashi never felt so depressed in all his life after that situation as he buried himself into your chest, listening to your lullabies that soon died down along with the light in your eyes.

That was the only reminisces he's had with you,the lullaby you would sing to yourself as a teen who strived to survive the world, a lullaby for his anxieties and own demons to be tamed, and the last thing you ever said. He was happy that over the years before your death, you had given him a customized music box that had the right notes of your song, only this time no one was singing it.

Fingers tapping anxiously on his work table, Akaashi started to fiddle with his thumb and then his index, losing his focus despite looking at the same drafted page lit up on his computer screen. He kept eyeing the pack of cigarettes that was just on the edge of his window— he needed one right now. Cigarettes were the last options he has for when he couldn't calm his beating heart or let his emotions out. But he knows how wrong it was to be damaging his health, and he knows he's going to get an earful from Bokuto since he visits his apartment every weekend. Even if Akaashi tries to hide his dirty deeds, Bokuto wasn't stupid to read through his eyes like before.

Foot was starting to bounce, his eyebrows were beginning to furrow, as if he was irritated, in trouble, or something. It wss getting harder for him, who wouldn't after losing their wife? The person he's loved since his teen years, the one he's vowed to never make her feel like how she did in the past. He failed you. He blames himself for all that matter, if he's added more precautions, maybe you'd still be here.

He bites his lips and whimpers, hands ruffling through his tossled hair and holding his head as his elbows were supporting him on the table. Everything was closing in once more, the walls to his workspace became suffocating, how he wishes one of his friends or yours would come knocking at his door even though it was already 2:30 am knowing how reckless he's getting. He swore he wasn't going to die sooner as you did. He promised to himself to let you and his memories live on, because once he dies, no one will ever remember the battles you've fought for, the good things you've done to many, and the love you've shared with him throughout the years.

"It's so hard without you, love.."

Eyes finally cracking with tears behind his glasses, he lets them stream down his face with his body shaking on his chair. Soon enough he was bound to get another headache from extreme emotion and will probably lay the whole day about it. But none of that mattered to him anymore.

He just wanted you back.

But his cries weren't the only ones that can be heard in his apartment.

Jolting up to realization, he carelessly wipes away his tears with his sleeves and tumbles our of his chair straight to his room. His heart was beating fast in worry and adrenaline, he thought the source of the crying in his room had been taken away or worse.

But it turns out, it was just his little baby girl crying in lonliness.

As he got closer, her cries were getting deafening, but he didn't mind. Not when his heart was swooning with guilt when he thought of giving up and caving to his own needs when he's forgotten he has a reason to continue on.

With the night lamp on at the side of her crib and his bed, he cooes at the sobbing baby with sweet nothings to catch her attention. Th cries immediately died down and replaced with sniffles and the baby looking up hazily at the dark figure above her.

Smiling, Akaashi carefully picks her up from the crib to cradle her on his chest. Giving her small pats on her back with hush whispers when he feels her stretch on his body.

"Shhh, I'm sorry, were you lonely?"

Grabbing on the string of his lamp shade on the nightstand, he pulls the string, allowing more light to glow in his room, and for his little girl to finally see that she wasn't alone anymore. Akaashi swayed gently as he remained in eye contact with the baby, smiling ever so slightly at the unreadable expression his daughter was possessing and played with her fingers.

"Maybe I should work with you around, you never really like it in the dark, do you, baby?"

His little girl cooes at him, curious of what language he was speaking to her and hopes he understood what she was saying as well. Akaashi's heart swelled at the adorable sound and nuzzled his face softly on her stomach, the baby still confused as ever but just clenches her hands in wonder.

His anxieties and thoughts disappearing in the air whilst he sat down on his bed and held his baby near to where his hesrt was beating. The same day you died, was the same day you had given birth. It was a miracle for the baby to be healthy despite what you had intake. He remembers after your announced death, the nurses had to usher him out, but only to drag him into another room where lies a bassinet and a couple of IV's attached and treatments.

When he got closer, his world was shaken that day. The sight of you and his baby alive and now existing after 9 months of waiting was there right before his eyes. But his heart broke at the thought of him being the only one to raise her, and her not having to meet her beloved mother. He was so emotional that day that he almost lost it when he realizes why she was kept in there and why there were so much stuff in this room. He didn't want to think thag he was losing another one when he had just met her.

The nurses explained that there was nothing wrong with the baby, just taking further check ups and to ensure she was absolutely healthy. He was already been forced outside your room that no longer held light, he wasn't going to leave the room where his daughter was until he holds her in his arms where he knows she'll be at the safest.

As time went by to now, Akaashi feared her growing up in the future. She resembled mostly to you. She was a dead carbon copy of you and he was terrified she'd experience what you have as history might repeat itself. The very thought of his daughter having something inside her little head without telling him scares him, Akaashi knew how cruel the world can be and hoe each second in life matters because we are unaware of the deaths happening at those time.

He prayed his baby girl wouldn't go through what you did as a child and carry it until she grows up. He hopes and believed in his own strength that he wasn't going to fail her this time— that there will be no person by her side and will lovd and protect her other than her daddy.

His tears blocking his vision of her as he held her tightly. He whimpers at remembering his thoughts earlier. He wanted to curse himself from thinking of leaving his daughter to fend for herself in this world and to find a way to be back to you. But he knows he was still with you, your daughter was the last love you could ever give him and he was going to love her more than anything.

The trembling of his body stops when his baby started to cry and squirm in his hold. Her whimpers breaking his heart when he couldn't solve her distress, it seemed like she was in pain and he knew this situation like in the past.

"Shh, shh, I'm here. I'm always here. I'm sorry."

Reciting out the same line he's used when he held you against his body that night. You cried and held a hand to your heart that day as he hugged you tighter. The demons inside you he had curse to go away and leave you alone. But they didn't.

An idea popped in his head and reached out inside his nightstand drawer. The little music box you have crafted for him still looked the same as it was before since it was taken with good care. He proceeded to wind it gently to let the soft tune play as he stood up once more to cradle his crying baby.

"Love, don't you worry too much,

You're doing fine."

He sings the first verse of the long memorized lullaby you sang for him. Using his thumb to wipe away the little tears that had escaped his daughters eyes. Her cries were stopped momentarily and were replaced by sniffles. Her dazed eyes making eye contact with her father's.

"You are the most precious thing I have loved."

Akaashi would be cringing thinking his voice was terrible, but the little girl in his arms seemed to be intrigued and loving the harmonized voice of her daddy and an unknown tune from the background.

His voice was smooth and soft. Completely out of character from his monotone one, but enough to capture the attention of someone.

"I will never allow the cruel world to take you— away nor hurt you any more."

He couldn't tell if he was singing the lullaby to her or he was making a silent vow to her. The lullaby you sang to him for the first time he tried searching for in the internet what the lyrics meant and who wrote it. Sadly, there were no results that came up that day.

And you never really told him how you got that song and who it was referring to in the lyrics.

But nevertheless, the lyrics could never be at the right time as it was now. It felt like he was reminding himself of what his role was from now on and what his daughter should always remember as she grows up.

No one was going to hurt her on her watch.

"I will sing you this song when the world, caves on.

You'll be fine, I will never leave you."

At the end of that line his voice cracks as he held back his own tears. He can hear only now your voice and hoe you would thread his hair during nights of distress. How he missed so many cracks of your voice from being too intrigued with the song. How he missed the fact that you needed him the most those nights of terror, yet you chose to make him feel secure and loved without leaving anything for yourself.

Slowly, his mind was connecting all the lyrics and your actions in his head. You were a self reliant person.

You sang this song in reminder that you were loved, beautiful and was protected by the few people that truly loved you. This song was meant to keep you alive.

To keep him going.

And now

It was a vow from him to his daughter.

"You are the most beautiful thing that has came."

Smiling sadly down to his baby now calmed down and listening intently to her daddy, Akaashi leans down to press kisses on her face with his tears sliding down.

He should've sang this to you when you needed it the most. A reminder of what you truly were to him. He hopes deep inside, somewhere up there or in his room you were listening. Listening to him remind you and his daughter— his world and universe, that he was going to be stronger and fulfill his own promises.

One day he was going to meet you in another life he believed, where he'd make you stay, where you and him will raise your little girl once again and he'll wake up next to you. Where he'll be the one singing this lullaby tune as he hold you both in his arms.

But for now, it was just going to be him and his baby girl.

"I will, protect you. Forever, my love."

[has-gilgamesh-doneanythingwrong]

Celebration

In which an unexpected servant congratulates my mastersona for both passing their Mage Exams and helping Gudako complete yet another singularity!

(The true backstory is that I recently finished all of my essays, my thesis and exam- so thought I should treat myself by writing a fic to commemorate it!!! YIPPEE!!)

Staring blankly at the spotless ivory walls looming above their head, Seihai frowned. Listlessly plonking yet another slice of pizza into their mouth, they flopped onto their bed.

‘What the heck do I do with my life now?’ At current, Chaldea had lapsed into a week-long festival, due to everybody successfully completing yet another singularity.

As a result of this, Gudako managed to rouse the entirety of Chaldea into a tremendous partying mood; in which servants were blasting sparklers at one another; Liz was hogging the speakers to blast out her latest hit tunes; and the Chaldea kitchen was overwhelmed with both chefs as well as hungry customers.

Although Seihai did actively partake in some of the activities, and was overjoyed to see Chaldea enveloped in such joy, a gnawing sense of unease still tore at their stomach. Even though today was the dawn of Chadea’s first ever Nightclub Party- a day that Seihai had been dying to experience- said anxiety made it all but impossible to enjoy it.

‘I’m not in the mood to party anymore,’ Seihai languidly flicked through the television channels, eventually landing upon yet another battle anime. ‘I dunno...It feels like the victory’s hollow or something...’

In Seihai’s eyes, the one who did the bulk of the work during singularities were Gudako, Mash, the staff and their servants. When it came to Seihai’s own place in this war; they had no idea in hell where they belonged. Besides from offering support, assistance, and lessening the load on Gudako’s shoulders- by providing mana to servants that Gudako hadn’t the energy to supply- they were naught but a small bit-piece in the war.

Clutching their fists -as a character on the television behind them began to yell, they contemplated the box of pizza sitting before them.

As a treat for also passing the Mage Association’s rather convoluted, and extremely unnecessary Online Mage’s Exam with flying colors, Seihai had more or less begged Boudicca to make some pizza- so that they could celebrate on their lonesome. Lifting the glimmering slice towards the sky, Seihai smiled wryly.

“Congratulations, me. We’ve fought hard. Let’s not let the negativity beat us today.” Before they could chow down on the beautiful, tantalizing slice- an array of golden sparkles invaded their vision, as they choked on their slice.

‘H-HOLY SHIT!!!’ Slapping their back, they managed to slide the slice back out again, only to be distracted by a horrendous clunking noise; as Seihai’s room shook like a tornado.

Only one person would enter their room like this.

Spinning their head to the side, they take sight of the king’s pernicious smirk; his red eyes sparkling with impish glee.

“G-Gilgamesh....You sure as hell caught me off guard this time.” Sighing audibly, Seihai rubbed their crimson red locks of hair. “Why don’t you like to knock before entering?”

“You would ask one as mighty as I- the King of Heroes- to knock on your measly door before entering?” He looked genuinely shocked by the suggestion. “Have you lost your mind, by perchance?”

“I feel like we’ve gone through an argument like this already.” Helping themselves to their feet, Seihai attempts to look him in the eyes.  “I tell you ‘Yes, you should knock’, and then you go ‘you foolish cur! The king shall never knock before entering! It’s my right!’ or something like that.”

“Well, there you have it. Although wisdom initially evaded that tiny brain of yours, you’ve finally conjured up the answer to your own enquiry.”

“Hey, my brain isn’t tiny. I just can’t keep up with you sometimes.”

“If you’ve managed to fool yourself into believing that, then who am I to disagree?” Whipping out a decadent golden throne from a rippling gold portal, he places himself by Seihai’s side. “Now, I’m here to depart a word of wisdom. Listen carefully.”

‘W-Wait, he’s here to talk?! Why?!’ Utterly bemused by this turn of events, Seihai felt compelled to burst into laughter. ‘Oh shit, hold it in! Hold it in!’ Last time they laughed at the king; Gilgamesh threatened them with a thousand deaths. “Er...You want some drinks? Food?”

“Hoh...I’m glad to see that you retain enough honor to serve your king. However, the food of mongrels isn’t to-” As soon as Seihai pulled out an assortment of global snacks, Gilgamesh’s words caught in his very throat.

“Fine. Pass that one. On the right.” A look of embarrassment briefly flickered across his features, as he coughed lightly. “Don’t hesitate, mongrel! Pass it, post haste!!!”

Seihai smirked proudly at that. ‘Hehe, that’s payback for you being so damn rude! Can’t look down on my global snack collection, huh?’ 

Keeping such thoughts locked firmly within their mind, they pass Gilgamesh a vanilla twinkie. ‘How amusing...Gilgamesh, the arbiter of all pleasures; owner of all the items of the world, is a fan of snacks like twinkies...’ Seihai would most certainly make a note of this later on.

As they both settled down, munching down on an assortment of foods- Gilgamesh cleared his throat, his expression as hard as stone. “Mongrel.”

“Hm?”

“What ails you, to be avoiding a festival as grand as the Chaldea party? I’ll have you know that even I have no choice but to approve of its splendor.”

Seihai’s mind boggled at this. Was he inquiring as to their health? Lowering their head, Seihai mumbled a tiny “Well, you know...I’m just not in the mood. That’s all.”

“That’s all? I hadn’t taken you to be such a bore.”

“Well, that’s not really my problem; you know. Sometimes, I can be boring as hell, and today’s just one of those days.”

“Mongrel, Chaldea’s been renovated into a sparkling nightclub. A nightclub.” Gilgamesh placed heavy emphasis on the word ‘nightclub’. “And yet you still manage to profess that you’re ‘not in the mood’?! Whatever happened to that mongrel that wouldn’t stop dancing in the canteen the other day?” Gilgamesh looked truly offended, as if Seihai had broken a sworn covenant or something.

‘Wait, what the hell?! He caught me dancing in the canteen? FUCK!’ Seihai grimaced at this. “W-wait, Gilgamesh. How the hell did you catch me dancing?!”

Ignoring Seihai’s question, Gilgamesh continued to complain. “Don’t you understand? A night as dazzling as this may never happen again. I declare that you enjoy it to the utmost, before everything disappears.” He had an excellent point there. Life was all but fleeting, a translucent kaleidoscope of effervescent events. Who knows when all of Chaldea may breathe their very last breath?

“Okay, I’ll admit you have a pretty good point there.” He definitely did! However, Seihai was yet to be moved by his advice. “However, I don’t feel like I’m worthy enough to join...I messed up so many times during the last singularity....and it took me quite a few tries before passing the mage exam.”

“So, you’re a fool then.”

Before Seihai could leap up in outrage at this statement, Gilgamesh silenced them with a flex of his golden-plated hand. “However. Albeit being a fool, you’re a determined one; who fights for their own cause. And as the King of Heroes, I must acknowledge that such actions are actually worthy of merit. Therefore, I shall not allow you to wallow in such pathetic self-misery! Celebrate your achievements with all of your might, mongrel- and REJOICE!”

Eyes widening with awe, Seihai’s heart sung with joy at his words. Spirit roused, they gawped at him in shock. “W-what...?!”

Did he just praise them? Gilgamesh offering praise? The world must certainly be ending soon. Looking around them, to check whether they were dreaming- Seihai was completely befuddled. ‘Of all the people to come and cheer me up when I’m feeling sad...How the heck did he end up being the one to do so?!’

“Fuhahaha! You look as if you’ve transformed into a fish! How utterly amusing!” Gilgamesh’s shoulders trembled with laughter. “You heard me clearly, mongrel. Even fools such as you have inherent worth. Now go out there, and rejoice!”

“Er...well, thanks Gilgamesh. That was kind of you to say that.” To see one’s own failures as a bastion for developing success...Seihai was taken aback by Gilgamesh’s perspective on things. However, it was much appreciated. “I do like hearing your titbits of wisdom.”

“Don’t grow too accustomed to them. I shan’t hand them out willy-nilly, you know. Now, rise to your feet; so that we can descend upon the dancefloor!”

“Haha, that does actually sound like fun. Thanks again, Gilgamesh.”

“Don’t get too conceited, mongrel. I’m only offering you alms for this particular occasion.”

As Seihai chuckled at this (as Gilgamesh obliterated their bedroom door with a flying kick), the two rivals (Friends? Enemies? Who knows, really), made their way to the festival.

The End

WAIT. WAIT. WAIT. THIS WAS MUCH MORE FRIENDLY A FIC THAN EXPECTED. ALSO, I AM CERTAIN THAT MY MASTERSONA AND GILGAMESH WOULD BE LIKE ARCH ENEMIES BUT THEY ACTUALLY GOT ALONG????????