#until everything is sorted irl and here xx

[sorrowsofsilence]

If you take asks/requests can you do something with reader refusing any type of help or assistance in anything but she's so used to everything being thrown in her face or used against her so now she is just super hyper independent. She meets Noah and for a long time he doesn't understand why she never lets anyone help her until she opens up and quietly tells him that she can't trust people to not use the help they gave her against her eventually.

Super self indulgent here 🥺😟

if im here • n.s

pairing: noah sebastian x fem!reader

words: 2k

warnings: none

note: thank you so much for this anon. this is so relatable, and writing this felt so... therapeutic? i hope you enjoy this xx

THIS IS A FANFIC ABOUT REAL PEOPLE IN FICTIONAL SCENARIOS. I AM NOT IMPLYING THIS IS HOW THESE PEOPLE ARE IRL OR THAT THIS SITUATION WOULD HAPPEN. IT IS FOR FANFIC PURPOSES ONLY!

+

At first, Noah merely noticed it as a quirk; an oddity of hers that was borderline admirable. Any time he offered to help her carry anything, she would politely, but firmly decline. Once, when she was struggling with a stubborn jar of pasta sauce, he'd tried to help, only to have her snatch the glass away with a fierce glint in her eyes.

It was clear that she didn't need or want his assistance.

Even in times that seemed dire, she refused him. The time her tire popped and she struggled to fit it back onto the rims, and the time the bowl from the top shelf fell against the floor, smashing into pieces and cutting her hand.

He always assumed it was pride or a stubborn sense of independence. But over time, he realized there was something deeper lurking beneath the surface; a sort of wariness, a guardedness that was difficult to penetrate.

One evening, after they'd grown closer, they were sitting on Noah’s living room floor amidst several takeout boxes from the local chinese place. She was battling with a particularly tricky fortune cookie wrapper when Noah instinctively reached out to help.

"No," she said quietly, pulling her hand back as if his touch burned. Something in her eyes flickered, a strange mix of defiance and vulnerability that made Noah pause.

He sat there, watching with a defeated brow as he placed the chopsticks in his box of chow mein, shoulders slumped.

“Y/N…” Noah whispered, his eyes saddened as she struggled, throwing her head back in a frustrated growl.

“Why won’t you just let me help you? Ever?”

She sighed, placing the untouched cookie on the coffee table. Her hands folded in her lap, shoulders hunched as if bracing against an invisible force.

For a long moment, she was silent, refusing to glance at Noah as he waited, knowing better than to press.

"I can't trust people," she admitted, not meeting his gaze, "I can't trust them not to use the help they gave me, against me eventually."

Noah was silent, processing her words. His heart twisted at the bare honesty of her confession, the raw pain that lurked behind her fierce independence. He realized this wasn’t about jars or boxes; this was about survival, about safeguarding herself from the world around her that had done her wrong, time and time again.

"No one should ever use kindness as a weapon," he said softly, respecting her space but wanting her to know he was there, "And I promise you, I won't. Not now, not ever."

She looked up at him then, her eyes clouded with a wariness that made him want to reach out and reassure her. But he knew better now, knew that the last thing she needed was empty reassurances or hollow promises.

Instead, he simply held her gaze, letting his words hang between them as his promise to her. He wanted to show her that he was different and that not everyone would use their kindness against her.

She held his onyx gaze for a long moment before finally looking away. Her shoulders relaxed slightly, but there was still a guardedness about her. It was clear that it would take more than just words to convince her.

But Noah was patient; he knew that trust wasn’t built in a day.

It was something that had to be earned and nurtured, piece by piece. He might not have been able to erase the past or change the people who had hurt her before, but he could certainly try to be different, and show her she deserved to be cared for.

Over the next few weeks and months, Noah did his best to show her he was a man of his word.

He never imposed, never assumed. Each time a situation arose where she seemed in need of help, he waited, letting her make the first move.

Bit by bit, they began to navigate around this invisible barrier - a silent dance of respect and understanding. When she stubbed her toe and cursed under her breath, Noah remained silent, only moving when she held out her hand for assistance. When her car broke down one icy winter evening, instead of rushing over as he instinctively wanted to do, he waited for her call.

It was a slow process, one filled with silent understanding and unspoken words. But with each day that passed, Noah could see the progression. There were moments when she would hesitate just before refusing his help; moments that filled him with hope and reassurance that he was doing the right thing.

One day when an unexpected rainstorm caught them off guard on their way back from a late-night movie, he held out his coat as they stepped out of the theatre. He prepared himself for her usual refusal, the quick shake of her head and the pulled-down brim of her hat as she braved the elements herself.

But it didn’t come.

Instead, she looked at his proffered jacket for a moment before finally nodding, tugging it around her shoulders with a shy smile.

His heart leapt in response.

It was a small victory, but for Noah, it felt monumental. It was the first time she had willingly accepted his assistance without that familiar flicker of fear in her eyes. The rain sliced through the night, drenching them despite the coat, but neither cared.

One small step towards trust. One small step towards un-guilted help.

“Thank you,” She whispered, smiling up at him. Noah wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into a comforting hug as they headed to their apartment.

“I would do anything for you,” He said, placing a kiss in her hair.

Her shivering body vibrated against his, her hands clinging to his dampened shirt for support.

In the silence of the rain-soaked streets, under the flickering street lamps, she believed him.

Not because she wanted to, but because he had proven it - time and again - through his patience, his understanding. He had seen her fears and her scars and had not flinched away, but stood firmly by her side, always waiting for her to reach out first.

"Noah," she murmured, as they unlocked the door of their shared apartment, her damp hair sticking to his face. "You're different."

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement, an acknowledgement of what they both already knew. He smiled into her hair, warmth spreading through him despite the cold rain dripping from their clothes onto the hallway floor.

"I hope so," he murmured back, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead before stepping back, giving her space once again as they moved inside.

She smiled at him then, one that reached to her eyes.

It was a rare sight and Noah cherished it because he knew how much courage it took for her.

That exchange marked a turning point in their relationship. His promise uttered in the heart of the storm, wasn't just an empty phrase spoken to comfort her.

It was a vow that he intended to keep, not just for that night but for every night thereafter.

In the following days, she became more comfortable in accepting his aid. She even let him help her carry groceries to their apartment, a task she'd always insisted on doing herself before- all ten bags looped up either arm.

But that day, he was allowed to carry five.

There was still that flicker of unease every now and then, a shadow that crossed her eyes whenever he offered his help; however, those moments were becoming less frequent with time.

Noah proved himself to be a man of his word. He stood by her side, not as a knight trying to save a damsel in distress, but as a constant companion who honored her strength and respected her space.

Their souls danced around each other in the ever-evolving rhythm of their companionship - sometimes colliding, sometimes distancing, yet always spinning in synchrony.

One cool spring afternoon, they went to a local park and found a solitary bench that overlooked a still lake. The water mirrored the sky, capturing its changing moods from cool blue to fiery orange as the sun began to set.

They sat there in a comforting quiet for a long moment, lost in their own thoughts.

Noah opened his mouth to say something but stopped himself just in time. He respected her need for space - physical and emotional both. His gaze fell on her profile - her eyes closed and tilted towards the setting sun, her lips slightly parted as she breathed in the crisp air.

"Is your mind always this quiet?" she asked after a while, turning to meet his gaze. He noted how her eyes held a certain softness now, a less guarded curiosity, “Or this patient?”

"No," he confessed with a soft chuckle. "I’ve had to learn patience over time."

"Because of me?" she asked, her voice low.

He turned to face her, taking a moment to really look at her. The setting sun reflected in her eyes, giving them an ethereal glow.

He admired her- every part of her. The good, the bad. Everything.

"Partly," he admitted, "But also because of myself. I've realised that sometimes the best way to help someone isn't by charging in like a hero. It's by waiting…giving them the space they need to heal."

His words stretched between them as she processed, her gaze never leaving his. Noah noticed a hint of something different in her eyes; not fear or apprehension, but something akin to gratitude.

“Thank you,” she said softly, echoing the words she’d whispered weeks before in the rain.

"I'm trying, Noah," she said quietly, "I'm trying to trust again."

He nodded, understanding all too well what that meant for her. It was a leap of faith - an act of trust that was foreign and strenuous to her very being.

"I know," he replied softly.

His thumb brushed over the back of her hand gently, a small comfort against the enormity of what she had just shared, “And you’re doing an amazing job.”

She smiled, looking down at their entwined fingers.

“I’m proud of you,” Noah breathed.

Her heart raced with armour as they sat there, their hands linked while the sun slowly disappeared beneath the horizon. The world around them was bathed in a tranquil glow, almost as if it was recognizing the sacredness of their moment.

Noah squeezed her hand gently, his chest full of emotions he couldn't quite put into words.

He took a deep breath, his gaze still locked onto the surreal sunset before them. This woman sitting next to him, she was strong. She had been through so much, but instead of hardening her heart, she still allowed herself to be vulnerable, for him. Of all people, him.

Her voice brought him out of his thoughts, "I think I'm ready."

Noah turned to look at her, surprised by her sudden declaration. She looked back at him, determination shining bright in her eyes.

"To rely on someone," she clarified, trailing a finger along the flower on the back of his hand, "To trust again... with you."

There was no hesitation in her voice, just a raw honesty that pierced through the quiet evening.

Noah felt his heart surge with a myriad of emotions: hope, joy, relief; but above all, there was a sense of honor.

"Are you sure?" he asked gently, not wanting to rush her.

He knew the gravity of what she was saying, the importance of this moment.

But she simply nodded, meeting his gaze with an unwavering certainty.

"Yes," she whispered. "I think I am."

Her simple affirmation held so much weight. It was her declaration of surrender, but also a confirmation of faith in him.

And that meant more to Noah than any grand gestures or professions could ever do.

He leaned over, closing the distance between them and pressed his forehead against hers. Their breaths mingled in the cool dusk air, creating an intimate bubble around them while the rest of the world faded into insignificance.

"I'll be here for you, whenever you need.”

tags:

@xxkittenkissesxx @deathblacksmoke @nyxisnotok @anameunmusical @sitkowski

@sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d @dsireland86 @thefallennightmare

@whenthesummerdies @spicywhenspeaking @veronicaphoenix @lma1986 @calleyx13

@somewhere-diamond @auratheopossumwitch @blackveilomens @skulliecadaver-blog @silentglassbreak

@darkmxgician @sprokat @thatchickwiththecamera @reyadawn @xserenax-13

@philomenie @into-the-grey @amelia-acero @blend-in-with-the-madness @rumoured-whispers @anything-more-than-human @blacksoul-2 @sweetwombatpizza

[astrafoundarchive-blog]

ok this blog is so damn messy i’ve lost track of new followers and drafts and everything over my many many breaks on this blog so i’ll work on moving blogs when i get my new theme finished and then i’ll drop the promo for the new blog here <333

[tuiyla]

Dropping some random Brittana appreciation and today I wanted to talk about the bed scene in 6x03 :D

Everything about that scene is so incredibly soft. The cuddling, Brittany acknowledging Santana’s “giant generous heart”, Brittany suggesting they do Santana’s favorite song, Brittany telling Santana that she’ll love her until infinity, the second round of cuddling, the super soft bad lighting kiss, the light touches, just everything!!!!

Then my personal favorite part; Santana says she wants to go back to school! I wanted more closure on her career, maybe an acknowledgment to what she ended up doing, but yanno what? I don’t completely mind that in that specific episode they left off with her simply deciding to go back. She’s still so so young, only 21 I believe, it’s okay that she still didn’t have a goal set in her mind, it’s okay that she doesn’t have a set career. I’m just so proud that for the time being she decided she wanted to go back to school :D Then, she suggests she and Brittany go to the same school, and she specifically says New York so we can assume that’s where they ended up!

Okay also, “I love you Britt” and then Brittany says she loves her too, but Santana just has to make sure Brittany knows how much she means it, so she says that she’s serious and living her life with Brittany is one of the few things irl that’s as good as her imagination!! And then she has to once again, say that she’s serious and that Britt makes her so happy because she’s just a words of affirmation person :D

I really love that season 6 Brittana sort of shut some people up when it came to “Brittany doesn’t love Santana as much as Santana loves her!”. This season reassured us that Brittany truly loves Santana, I personally didn’t need to be reassured or reminded but yanno I’ll take all the fluff I can get xx

Hope you don’t mind the long message, I just love their love so much.

Anon I never ever mind positive long message and especially not about Brittana! I myself have been drowning in season 5 feels lately but I'm very much here for the season 6 appreciation. Feel free to randomly appreciate Brittana any day!

I forget how many amazing bits and pieces are in that scene until I rewatch or am reminded of it and then it's !!! giant generous heart! You Oughta Know! Infinity! Soft is such a good word for it and Brittana's softness is exactly what has a grip on me.

Oh Anon don't get me started on how Santana's career storyline was never given any proper closure after two entire seasons of buildup, fuming. But like you, I'll take what I can get and I thought it was at least a nice touch to have her consider going back to college. College Brittana, now that's a cute concept. As a married couple too! Omg I swear I just randomly remember sometimes that they're WIVES.

I love that small moment with Santana going "No like really, I love you so so so so much" (paraphrasing) because it's such a good buildup to the proposal. In an ideal world we'd have gotten a scene with Mercedes while they're on tour and Santana has this "I'm gonna marry that girl" realization. But you know this works, and I do adore the proposal itself more and more. Naya sells it, as always.

because she’s just a words of affirmation person :D

Anon! Yes, please talk to me more about this. As a words of affirmation person myself I love that for her.

I agree, season 6 did right by Brittana (even if not completely right by Santana) and I,,, a d o r e season 6 Brittany so much. I loved her anyway but season 6 Britt is seriously The Best and I wish she got to be like that in earlier seasons too. Part of that is her general character and yes, part of it is how we're shown time and time again that she loves Santana just as much. I know people have beef with 6x06 (not talking about the fandom shipping war whatever perspective lol, I'm mean in Brittana terms) but like, come on. It's the Alma stuff in case I'm being too vague, but I've just accepted that some will never like Brittany no matter what she does. Personally, I adore the heck out of Queso Por Dos.

I'm gonna take all this season 6 fluff and yet again fall asleep to the thought that they're soulmates 😭

[studyfeather]

#actuallyican

tagged by @kawaii-notes!! you can see the original challenge post here.

honestly? I’m surprised this hasn’t been done more! please check out @stariistudy‘s post here to learn more about it.

I tag: @moonshinestudies @studytune @noodledesk, and anyone else who may be interested!

read below the cut if you’re interested in reading a story about me xx

Although this isn’t quite like proving someone else wrong ... I feel I was able to prove something to myself. This is a story about my IBS (irritable bowel syndrome) and how it has played a big part in my life.

When I was eight years old, my parents divorced. Simultaneously, I got incredibly sick, my body’s reaction to the divorce. Although I was young and didn’t fully understand what all was happening and what it would mean for the rest of my life ... another part of me did. Before I was hardly sick and social and active ... but after this? Not anymore.

We didn’t understand why I was so sick all the time, or what to call it. Nothing I ate would stay down, including water. The bathroom was where you could find me, my toilet my best friend, and the floor my new bed sometimes. I could hardly sleep, often being sleep deprived and had very little energy. The best way I could fall asleep was with my head on the couch and knees on the ground, arms dangling to allow my stomach to feel suspended. It was either that or sleeping with my mom, hunched over so my chest was pressed against my legs and head against a pillow. I was always having some sort of stomach pains, I lost an abnormal amount of weight and ... it wasn’t fun. The moment I would find a food that would actually stay down, I would eat only that until my stomach would reject it.

Eventually I was taken to a hospital to get pictures taken of my stomach. They said they didn’t know what exactly it could have been (finding no virus/stomach bug kind of thing), the closest they could relate it to being IBS. I was given medicine after medicine only to find nothing was helping. Instead, we worked on finding foods that would not trigger my IBS, so that I could live as well as possible. Come to find ... I could not eat a majority of fruits and vegetables, along with beef and turkey. Grains, dairy, pig and chicken became my best friend, but it also became difficult when: eating out, going to a friend’s for dinner, family meals, school lunches, etc. It can often be difficult to tell someone: “I’m not allergic to that, but it will make me sick.” I feared going anywhere other than home in the case someone would give me food I could not eat. Not only this but strenuous exercise or stress would make me sick almost as immediately. 

But in terms of academics ... obviously being so ill and so often, meant missing many days of school. One average, I would miss about 1/3+ of each school year. In middle school it was the worst, and high school got a little better ... but it was still hard missing 1/3 of everything. Social opportunities were difficult, classroom settings were hard (as no one would remember me), catching up with homework and constantly approaching teachers about what I missed always stressed me. Someone who had been bubbly, a social butterfly, physically active and ready to face the world head on was lost. Instead, I became depressed (terribly so), lonely and friendless for so long, socially anxious, easily stressed (rip my hair), very overweight (mainly due to my limited diet + depression), and someone I wish I wasn’t. But...

actually, I can.

Even though I hardly left the house, I made use of my time. I would practice my drawing which has since turned from a hobby that distracted my mind from my stomach, into what I am going to do with my life. Though I didn’t meet very many people irl, I met many wonderful people I was happy to call my friends online. I may have missed a lot of school, but I still managed to have A’s and B’s, gaining important study skills and getting to know the best way I learn. (Even though I am a bit salty that my GPA was 0.1 off to get ropes for graduation, I did do my best.) When it came to studies, I was a hard worker. I learned how to listen and catch on quick to any information I was given. I learned how to approach teachers (which has become very handy in college). I learned that even in the depths of depression and self hate ... there is still a way out. I learned to trust my parents and those I knew a bit better, to not keep things bottled in all the time. I learned how to remain positive in rough times, getting to know myself better and better. And through these rough times, I hope to help other people as well. To spread some positivity and be there for people who have had it hard like I have.

My family is a mess and not the most ideal, my health far below where I wish it was, my body hating me in so many ways, education having been so difficult for so long ... I have made it through it.

Now, I still have depression and anxiety (and my IBS for 12 years), but I have learned how to handle it and am seeking the counseling I have needed for so long. I am careful with what I eat, but I have also come to find more food I can eat. I never miss a day of school and succeed in my classes. I have been working on becoming a bit more social and learning how to talk to people irl, becoming more comfortable with holding a conversation and be less of an outsider. I have a job in customer service that has forced me out of my quiet bubble. And maybe, I even have people I can call a friend ...

I often wish that I never got my IBS, and wonder what my life might have turned out to be like if I wasn’t sick all the time. But at the same time, I’m happy enough where I am to where just maybe, it was all worth it.