#when i was very mentally unwell i didn’t cry

[elzdaizy]

Trouble After Paradise (Part 1)

Warnings: lots of angst, conflict, explicit language.

Summary of short story: Reader and Harry have returned from their honeymoon to a harsh reality and their first huge hurdle as a married couple.

A/N: This is 1 of 3 parts. Enjoy! Just a little short story idea i had and wanted to share with you all.

It’s been four weeks since you returned home from your honeymoon in Costa Rica and you’ve found yourself reminiscing constantly on that magical holiday.

To say the least, things have took a turn for the worst since you and Harry got home.

You were bombarded with mountains of piles of work to get through because there was no one to fill your position whilst you’d taken the month off leading up to your wedding, including the honeymoon.

Harry had started filming his next movie, one that was mentally draining due to his character being a very unwell mental patient at a psychiatric hospital.

You worked from seven in the morning until four in the afternoon in the office but always brought home some work to do which kept you busy until about eight at night when you’d get into bed.

Weekends were exhausting as well, you were catching up with friends and family after basically being off the grid throughout the week.

Harry’s shooting location, thankfully, was only a few hours away up north in Manchester so he managed to be home often between breaks but unfortunately meant that he wasn’t home with you for periods of times.

He tries his best to be at home with you on the weekends but his schedule doesn’t work that way all the time. On average you probably see each other a total of two days out of the week and it’s been this way the past four weeks.

You’ve both been so busy, you’ve barely had the time to live life together as a married couple. There’s a tension building full of stress and exhaustion on both ends of your marriage. You find yourselves bickering when you’re together and getting on each other’s nerves more than ever before.

You know it’s because you’re equally annoyed with yourselves and each other with the current situation.

It’s 8pm on a Friday night and Harry called you earlier that morning to let you know he’s coming home today at around 6:30pm and will be able to stay the full week until he’s off again. He asked for you to pick him up from the station because he had booked a meal at The Ivy for 8pm. You of course said yes. You were so excited to hear the news, you felt tears well up in your eyes. “I really can’t wait, I miss you so much.” You replied before you both said your goodbyes and I love you’s before hanging up.

What you didn’t know was that working would be busier than ever that Friday and now you’re still in the office trying to hurry up and finish off one last piece of paper work to be sent off to your client before the weekend. Your phone had died two hours ago and Harry hadn’t contacted you before it died so you weren’t too concerned that he would’ve tried to since then.

You could cry out of frustration. You purposely stayed back to get all this extra work done so you could book off Monday and Tuesday to extend your weekend to spend some time with your husband.

Half an hour later, you finally send the email and pack up your stuff. You race to your car and make your way home. The door is unlocked when you go to turn the key and your heart skips a beat when you realise that Harry must be home.

The lights are all off downstairs which is odd so you make your way upstairs to your bedroom to find Harry sat on the edge of the bed in just his underwear and his phone in his hands.

“Hi, baby.” You softly speak up as you walk through the door and put your bag and coat over the chair in the corner of the room.

Harry glances at you over his shoulder briefly without so much as a tiny acknowledgment of your presence before looking back to his phone.

You frown, thinking his behaviour seems a bit off. The energy in the room seems low and you can sense he’s not in a good mood.

You walk over to him, a hand on his shoulder and the other hand reaching to lift his head by tilting his chin in your direction for him to look up at you. As soon as you try to lean forward to place a kiss to his lips he yanks his head away from your touch and rolls his eyes, letting out a huff.

You step back, very offended and extremely hurt by his cold actions.

“Fuck you, then.” You throw your hands up and storm away to head downstairs to the kitchen. You’re literally trying so hard not to break down and cry right now so you’re pacing around your kitchen, breathing heavily for a few moments then deciding to pour yourself a large glass of wine.

You almost down the first glass. The second one being poured less than five minutes later. You’re just stood by your kitchen island with a glass of wine in one hand and thoughts racing around your mind as you try to figure out why your husband seems to despise you at the moment.

You soon realise it could possibly be the fact that your phone was dead and maybe he was trying to get ahold of you.

You start to feel a pit of guilt in your stomach when you take your phone from your pocket and plug it into the charger point next to your toaster.

You finish your second glass of wine once your phone switches on and your eyes widen when you notice the ten missed calls and five unread messages from Harry.

You read the texts carefully one at a time.

From Harry:

6:09pm - l’m fifteen minutes away from the station if you want to set off now. Love you. Xx

6:30pm - Where are you? I’m waiting near the security box until you’re here. Xx

6:53pm - I’ve rung you five times and you’re not answering so I’m making my own way home now.

7:26pm - Why aren’t you answering and why aren’t you at home? You do realise we have to be at The Ivy in half an hour.

8:03pm - cancelled the booking. If you read this before you come home - don’t bother me when you get in, I can’t be arsed with this tonight.

You heart feels like it’s going to stop. You have never felt more terrible in your life. You feel like a punch to the gut is what you deserve right now and nothing less. And to think, you literally just spat in his face and said fuck you to him, still not realising what you’d done.

You were so fixated on wanting to spend the week with Harry that you’d completely forgotten about picking him up and going out for dinner tonight.

You were a little drunk and very upset with yourself so of course the only thing currently you did was start to cry. You sat on a stool at your island, lent your elbows on the countertop, put your face in your hands and sobbed. Sobbed for your husband and how upset he must be feeling. Sobbed at the realisation of how much you hurt him and let him down. You felt like a failure.

After about thirty minutes of letting your feelings flow out of your system uncontrollably, you composed yourself and prepared yourself to go and apologise profusely. You’d gone over what to say in your head a million times and nothing sounded good enough but you know the least he deserves is an apology rather than an explanation or excuse right now.

Your face is puffy and red from the crying as you shakily walk up the stairs to your room and find Harry is now laying under the covers with the tv on, watching a movie with a deep frown on his face. As if he’s in deep thought rather than paying attention to the screen.

You push the door open gently and let yourself in. Basically walking with your tail between your legs, you can barely look at him as you sit on the bottom corner of the bed on your side. You couldn’t be further away from him on the bed if you tried.

“Harry, I’m so sorry.” You croak. Lips quivering as you fight the urge to break down crying again. You finally look at him after your first attempt at the beginning of a long apology. He’s ignoring you. Keeping his eyes fixed on the screen and his arms crossed over his chest.

You decide to keep speaking, “I completely understand why you’re angry and I don’t want to give myself any excuses for-.”

He reaches for the remote and turns up the volume to drown out your voice.

You let out a shaky sigh. A tear slipping down your cheek. “I didn’t ignore you on purpose- look, can you please just say something?” You beg pathetically and Harry’s head turns as his eyes look at you with anger.

“Told you I can’t be fucked with this tonight just leave me alone, please.” He sighs in annoyance before completely turning his back to you as he lays on his side.

You really don’t know what to say now. You didn’t expect this reaction from him. He’s never been this angry with you before and it’s terrifying you slightly because you really can’t cope with it. You don’t even care if he shouts at this point, you just want more of a reaction from him.

He has every right to feel the way he does, you know that. You hate going to sleep on bad terms though. You both agreed to always resolve conflicts before getting into bed because you never wanted to be that couple that gets into fights and makes one or the other sleep on the sofa.

It seems like it’s going to be that way tonight though. You don’t want to say another word because you don’t want to make it worse. Even though you know you won’t get much sleep, you decide to go sleep downstairs on the couch. You could go sleep in the spare room but you need a tv to distract you from your racing thoughts so the living room it is.

You get up from the bed, go take a quick shower and change into your pyjamas before grabbing your pillow from your side of the bed and walking towards the door.

“Goodnight, Harry. I love you.” You say to him softly before closing the door behind yourself and making your way downstairs.

You turn on a shitty reality show to fall asleep too. It takes a few hours but eventually you drift off.

The next morning you’re awoken by the sound of the blender rattling off in the kitchen. You feel at peace for a split second as your groggy memory clears up as your consciousness comes back, along with the awful events of last night. You grimace start yourself as you sit up on the couch and turn around to see Harry standing in the kitchen, making himself a smoothie, dressed in his running gear.

It mustn’t be any later than 6am because he only likes going running at the crack of dawn. He hasn’t noticed that you’re awake yet but you know he’s still fuming by the look on his face.

Now that you’re not intoxicated and knowing it’s a new day, you’re determined to resolve this issue very soon. You don’t want to waste any more of the short time you two have together for the next four days being bitter.

You get up from the couch and stretch before walking over to the kitchen island and taking a seat on the stool you were sobbing on last night.

“Morning.” You say with a tired voice as Harry still hasn’t acknowledged you whilst he’s cleaning up some dishes. You’re both facing each other on opposite sides of the island.

Harry looks up at you frowning and doesn’t reply so you take it as your queue to go in strong with all guns blazing.

“Can we please talk about this now?” You plead. Harry just deadpans and looks at you with a look that tells you no as he picks up his AirPods and puts them in as he makes his way to the door to go on his run.

“What the actual fuck! This is an actual fucking nightmare.” You frustratingly shout to no one but yourself after Harry closes the door on his way out.

[asgardwinter]

one hug, just one hug

summary | How do you ask for one hug, just one hug from a loved one without sounding pathetic?

warnings | sadness? idk, crying, just sad feelings, i wrote this just because i sort of needed it

word count | 696

author’s note | yeah, I’m still alive and all… hope you like this little surprise and quite comforting blurb (yeah, i’m not in a good mental place right now, but it is what it is). i still don’t know if i’ll be back for good but i really missed y’all and writing for this past time, hope you still like this. also, my English got a lot worse because of my lack of writing. anyway, uni is killing me but i graduate in december so we’re going to the end.

There’s always those days when you wished someone would just guess the turmoil that was taking place inside your head. The random wishes to just break down and cry into someone's shoulder, but not really having to ask for that. The need of support, of someone being there, but being too afraid of going after that.

Or maybe you were just too shy, too afraid of being perceived as a human with that need.

With the need to take up some space from other people’s lives.

There was no saving people that day, no troublesome missions and grenades exploding, weird guns almost taking you to another place if that existed. But you were just so fucking exhausted ir was like you took down the whole HYDRA scheme just by yourself.

You closed the door carefully to prevent anyone from thinking you were unwell. Fuck, that was another problem: how would they guess you were unwell if you did everything to cover up?

Walking towards your bed you just sat down for a second, only a brief second before the tears started coming non stop, dripping down your cheeks and creating a pool on your pants. You’ll need to drink water after that. A soft knock took you slightly out of the sadness haze. Just slightly, now that the tears started to drop they wouldn’t stop really soon.

“Hey! Love?” That voice you loved so much but didn’t really want to see you like that asked for you. “Is everything all right?”

The problem with Loki was that as soon as the words left your mouth he’d know something was weird, no matter how much effort you put into making it sound like the normal you.

You breathed. More than five times and still couldn’t feel like it would break in the very beginning of the sentence.

“I’m…” You breathed again. And just one more time to be sure (you weren’t sure). “I’m good. Just tired.”

You didn’t know if it was the little keen tone in the end of the phrase or the way you paused almost dramatically, but he knew. And you knew he was aware of your situation. You just could hope you had locked the door…

He opened it. Yeah, it wasn’t locked at all.

“What happened?” His worried green eyes just kept searching for injuries and anything that he could see that was causing you pain. Unfortunately your mind wasn't detachable yet, but you could work with Banner to figure something out.

“I…” There were no words to explain it besides the loud sob and the tears that continued their waterfall.

And then he just… did it.

Hugged you closely, tightly and everything you could ask for. His hands ran through your head and you felt quite supported. The weight of his arms closing around you was what you needed at the moment. ANd, you had no idea if after minutes or hours, the tears stopped coming, the salty water dried in your cheeks and your heart stopped beating like if you ran a marathon.

Loki waited for you to pull away and eventually you did, avoiding his eyes because you were sure you looked a mess.

“You look pretty even when you cry.” He said out of the blue making a small incredulous smile appear on your face. “Yes, but I still prefer this one.” His hands caressed your cheeks softly.

“Thank you.” You whispered. “You have no idea how I needed this.”

“I believe I have.” The hurt in his eyes was something you knew quite well. “I just wish I didn’t have to guess and almost invade your room to help you.”

“I can’t ask for that, for the support.”

“But with me, you must ask for it if needed. I’m not always the most present one for you.”

“You’re perfect, not in the non flawed way but in the we make a good team way.” You said with your hands resting on his lap. “You do way better than you imagine.”

“I hope so.” Loki leaned in for a light kiss, just to make your heart full with love this time. “I love you.”

“And I love you.”

[betweenthings2]

ok i just got up to the cafe scene in my totally coherent (lies) rant about this fic and DELETED IT im fucking FUMING. they should allow drafts for asks. but we move. and i will rewrite it but BETTER. OK LETS GO

Now, Matty’s in halfway in his lap and they’re looking through listings their estate agent has sent them.

in his lap 😭😭 that's so cute im gonna cry i love this. its so simple but makes me feel like 🌟 that

Matty is quiet for another few moments, then, very quietly, he says, “I think I could have died there. Either he’d push me far enough that I killed myself, or I’d overdose on accident, or he’d get violent enough.” Matty pauses, then, “In the moment, that’s not what I thought, but in retrospect, I think I could have. I think he could have, if I’d stayed. I think I would have let him.”

:( "I think I would have let him" :( this is Heartbreaking and i need to die. it's just so. weak and i cannot DEAL WITH THIS. my cat just gave me an odd look for the noise i made at this. lord. "or he'd get violent enough" :(((

Matty shakes his head. “Not now. Not yet. Maybe never. I don’t want you to hear about that, I don’t think. I don’t want you to feel like you didn’t do enough in the moment, either. You’ve done more than enough. You did all you could. I wouldn’t have let you do more.”

😭 I 😭 WOULDNT 😭 HAVE 😭 LET 😭 YOU 😭 DO 😭 MORE 😭 OHMYGOD. im gonna sob this is so :(((((( genuinely need this entire thing tattooed on my back or something

Matty’s crying, George realizes, and begging, saying, “Please, please, please, just stop it,” over and over, but he’s resigned himself to George’s hold, any fight he had gone.

i feel like a sad face emoticon. :( <- me. reading this puts like a pit in my stomach and its so beautiful i can feel my heart clenching inside my chest

Matty recoils and cries harder, begging, “Don’t touch me. Please. I don’t want it. Please don’t.”

i need a gun . im telling my therapist about this .

And then Matty tugs the blankets back up to his chin and makes a pointed effort to go back to sleep, so that’s the end of the conversation.

kind of obsessed w the implication that matty has to do this because his words werent enough for squilliam william bitchilliam...what if i cry. and also i just love it

Sometimes, George will have dreams where he loses Matty, dreams where Matty didn’t leave the man who hurt him, dreams where Matty never went to rehab, dreams where Matty overdosed in a back alley of an unfamiliar city. George never goes back to sleep after those dreams, just stays awake and watches Matty sleep, reminding himself that whatever his brain dreamed up isn’t real.

currently sad facing. oh my god. :(((( love how u get the idea that mental illness also affects the people near u and not just urself without it being Mean. im. gonna cry. i love this so much its making me unwell

The Prada store is quiet and sleek when George walks in and a sales associate is quick to greet him. He explains that he has an item on hold and the associate is quick to walk him over to the counter and pull a sleek box from behind it. She carefully opens it up to revel the chain necklace George had seen online, then, when he assures her that he’s happy with it, she wraps it back up and sends him on his way.

CHAIN NECKLACE MENTIONED!!!!!!!!!!!! CHAIN NECKLACE MY BELOVED AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH. this is so cute though pls a necklace!!! im so :')))

“I’ve got George,” Matty says, like it’s an answer to every question Denise could think to ask.

this paragraph is making me feel things that humans should not be allowed to feel. HES GOT GEORGE 😭😭😭 AND ITS THE ANSWER TO EVERY QUESTION HELLO this is romance and its going to make me explode

At some point, George drifts off, too and he wakes to Matty in the throes of another nightmare. There’s no flailing or thrashing around this time, just whimpers and begging, and he’s clinging to George’s t-shirt like it’s a lifeline. George doesn’t know what to do. He knows that you shouldn’t wake someone up when they’re having a nightmare, but that means he has to stay here and watch Matty suffer, stay here and listen to Matty whimper and beg like he’s being tortured. Maybe he is, in his head.

☹️. SAD FACE. genuinely this is so wonderful (in a sad way) i need you in the history books. the fact hes just accepted it ☹️ SAD FACE AGAIN

“You can’t. You can’t undo it. You can’t undo what he did to me. You can’t fix it. You can’t help.”

im about to be on international news...i am going to DIE. you cant undo what he did to me NO BUT I CAN STILL BUY A GUN. william when i catch u william... the rage in my soul... i need to watch carpet cleaning videos to calm down

George is silent for a moment. He’s not entirely sure what to say or how to respond to all the concerning things Matty’s just said. What comes out when he opens his mouth is, “Do you, I, you, kill yourself? Matty, fuck, Matty, do you wanna kill yourself?”

the stress in his words Oh My GOD. the way you write is so like. i can pick the words off the page and feel them im about to explode and die george NO

“It was drugs in exchange for sex no matter how you shape it, and I did that,” Matty interrupts. “I let that happen. Part of me thought that was a fair trade. All I wanted was to be high. And sure, I said no and that I didn’t want it, but I could have fought harder and the times I was so high I couldn’t do anything are my fault because he didn’t force me to use, I made that choice. That’s all on me. I could have done something, and I didn’t because I wanted a fucking supplier.”

pay for my therapy. oh my god. i genuinely cannot deal with this at all im going to cry how can you put so much SADNESS into like 30 words ?!?!

“I know what it was, George. Don’t say it. I can’t take hearing you say it.”

im going to cry so much that all of europe will be submerged in saltwater for millions of years. oh my fucking god i need DEATH i feel SICK

George wants to cry, wants to slump down to the floor right there in the hallway of this house that doesn’t even feel like home anymore because Matty has been so miserable in it and sob. He doesn’t. All George does is head back downstairs and slump down onto the couch. He needs someone to talk to, but it’s all about Matty and he’s pretty sure the only person who knows more about what how Matty’s doing is Matty. He doesn’t do anything, just lights a cigarette and blows smoke towards the ceiling. He misses Matty, he thinks. God, he misses Matty.

!!! again with how mental illness also affects people around u !!! IM SICK. theyre both so sad i just need them to hug for three hours and make everything all okay for the rest of time

Maybe, George thinks, he should text Adam. Matty told Adam about the sex that wasn’t really sex, but they can’t use the other word, the big, scary, horrible word for it because Matty won’t use it and if Matty won’t use it, George won’t either. It Matty told Adam that, then maybe Adam’s the person to talk to.

i am going to vomit and die. the way the tone is like?? childish almost?! and how that just makes it hurt more ?!?!?!? I AM GOING TO DIE. adam is always the person to speak to though. adam is the best

“I know that’s what you’re worried about. That’s what you’re always going to be worried about, what everyone is always going to be worried about, and I know if I say I just wanna sleep then I’m right back where I started, but fuck, I just wanna sleep.”

this is so sad and i love him so much and i need him to be HAPPY oh my god . he's just :((((((((( so pained :((((((( george pls just hug him and use ur george powers to make everything Good

“Maybe you should talk to someone, too,” Matty says quietly. “It might help. Same way you think it’ll help me.”

“We’re not talking about me,” George says. “We’re talking about you.”

Matty shrugs. “I’m just saying. Don’t spend all your energy trying to make me feel better so things end up shit for you.”

the noise i just made is something...so far from human. they love each other so much and matty can see hes hurting and george can see it but wont accept it and im just going to cry

“He’s still himself,” George protests. “He’s still Matty, still only sleeps on the right side of the bed, still likes his tea ridiculously sweet, still laughs at his own stupid jokes, still tries to have three different conversations at once. He’s still brilliant.”

where are the tissues. i need tissues. screaming crying throwing up as though ive just received the news that my wife of 70 years has died. oH MY GOD pls im genuinely sick george loves him so much and hes just :(:((:(:((:(:((:((:((:(

Adam nods. “You’ve always been a little bit protective of him, which seemed a little bit silly most of the time, but I think that maybe he needs that now, so it’s good that he’s got you.” He pauses again, then continues, “I don’t think I’d know what to do. I could be there for him, I have been, and I will be, but I don’t think I’d know what to do. I’ve never known what to do when he cries, but you always do.” There’s another pause, then, “You’re doin’ good, is all.”

😭 HES 😭 DOING 😭 GOOD 😭 im going to die. i looove how u write their dynamic SOSOSO MUCH like it just seems so natural and open and HQJDKWUSJKSO <- me

Matty’s quiet for a moment, then says, “I just wanna be normal.”

:((((( he just wants to be normal :((((((( this is doing damage to me im making the minecraft zombie taking damage noise currently . hes so sad i just want him to be HAPPY. see no i say i want him to be happy but repeatedly read fics that make him borderline suicidal. masochism

Matty gives a tiny nod. “It does,” he says. “’s a good reminder.”

“Then I’ll keep saying it,” George promises. “I love you.”

THEN ILL KEEP SAYING IT 😭😭😭😭😭 IM GOING TO CRY MY EYES OUT. theyre so sweet and soft and 😭❤️😭❤️😭❤️ i just love them so much and i love how you write them especially because !!! its AMAZING

After a few minutes, Matty comes out of the bathroom, curls tamed, but still looking a little bit like he’s just rolled out of bed. George can’t help but find it endearing, but he doesn’t anything. Matty doesn’t either, just gets dressed and heads downstairs, so George follows.

im getting this engraved into granite and putting it as my headstone. sobbing i love them

“I spend a lot of time thinkin’ about you,” George tries.

PUTTING THIS ON MY HEADSTONE TOO HELLO STOP THIS. i love them and their relationship and im not prepared for them to have difficult conversations again Nooooooooo (yeessssssssssss)

“I know you’re gonna do great,” George counters. The light for the crosswalk changes and he adds, “C’mon. Lemme buy you coffee and tell you you’re pretty.”

BUY U A COFFEE AND TELL U UR PRETTY 😭😭😭😭😭 this is gonna put me in my grave im so. mattys so vulnerable and george is just happy (debatable) to be there and im obsessed with it and their dynamic. LORD

George can’t help but chuckle and smile at Matty, all of his love and care obvious, and says, “You are pretty. You’re the prettiest person I’ve ever had in my bed, prettiest person I’ve ever gotten to make breakfast for, prettiest person I’ve ever been ridiculously in love with.”

hey so im not okay. theyre too cute my heart is about to burst out of my chest i CANT TAKE THIS

“You’re supposed to have a reaction to that,” Matty says quietly. “You’re supposed to have something to say.”

IM SAD AGAIN. STOP. actually no dont stop ever at all. IM SO 😭😭😭 matthew pls no i need him to feel only joy and love and peace and never be sad ever again ☹️☹️☹️

“Thanks,” Matty says quietly. He takes a drink of his coffee, then adds, “She thinks you’re good for me.”

:((((((( george is good for him :(((((( george is just good for everyone i think. an angel boy. im going to sob

Even though it’s an echo of Matty’s sentiment the day before—George can’t believe that conversation on the patio was just yesterday—but it doesn’t hurt any less to hear. All George can do is try, “You are you, Matty. You’re still the person I love, still the only person I’ve ever been ridiculously in love with. You’re still someone I recognize and know. I know you ‘cause you’re still you. I’ll always know you. You’re still my Matty.”

"MY MATTY" ☹️☹️☹️ my heart is going to pop out of my chest and explode into green glitter and when it falls down onto the floor it will say I LOVE THE BIG LIGHT SERIES BY AO3 AND TUMBLR USER BETWEENTHINGS2 and then i will explode into rainbow glitter and it will put sparkles around it. can you tell im normal about this fic

Matty agrees, and allows George to urge him to his feet and out of the café, but once they get outside, he stops and fixes George with a skeptical look, asking, “What do you mean you having something for me?”

George stops too and says, “If you’d keep walking, you’ll see.” When Matty doesn’t move, he adds, “It’s ten minutes home. You’ve anticipated much more for much longer.”

I LOVE THEM AND I LOVE EVERYTHING the way u write them. i will say this again and again. is amazing. pls. it's just so !!! and sweet and nice and even when theyre sad it's like it's got a haze of Love over it. im gonna die

“You’re adorable,” George says, coming to stand in front of Matty.

Matty offers a cheeky smile and says, “I know.”

And, god, that’s Matty. That’s George’s Matty.

HE KNOOOWSSSSS 😭😭😭 im gonna BAWL im so. thats georges matty !!!!!!!!!!! they are two parts of a whole and im going to Explode over it

Matty takes a deep breath, the kind a deep breath a person takes when they’re trying very hard to keep their emotions in check, the kind of deep breath Matty takes when he’s trying not to cry, and says, “’m good, G. ‘s good, really good.”

i feel like an exclamation mark. hes so happy and im :((((((( obsessed with them im gonna explode

Carefully, almost reverently, George drapes the chain around Matty’s neck and fastens the clasp. Before he can think twice about it, he leans forward and presses a very gentle kiss to the back of Matty’s neck, just about the clasp of the necklace.

i need to be put down because i am EMOTIONAL and this is going to make me cry plsplspls i love i love i love. reverently !!! kissing the back of his neck !!! i am !!! !!! !!!

this is a masterpiece and i REALLY hope u know it because u are amazing and everything u write is like an actual. gift from god or something like its sososo beautiful and wonderful and amazing and AAAAAHHHHH. my chest is tight and ive read this like 6 times in the past 3 days. enjoy ur day and Plsplspls know that u are amazing 🙂‍↕🫶🫶🫶

First of all, thank you so, so much!! Second of all, you're right--Tumblr really should let you draft asks. There are a lot of things Tumblr should let you do, though.

They're moving in together!! They're buying a house together!! They get to have a fresh start in a place that's theirs that was never a host to all the pain and misery and guilt! It's going to be so good for them!

Things are not so good for them. Poor fictional!Matty is struggling so much and hindsight and sobriety are not helping, and if he has very little self-esteem with fictional!George, he had, like, negative self-esteem with fuckin' William and he absolutely would have let himself be pushed too far. =(

I wouldn't have let you do more =(!!!!!!!!!! <- that's how I feel about that and I wrote it. Fictional!George wants to have done more, he wishes he'd have followed fictional!Matty inside and not let him be alone that first night he came home, wishes he'd have noticed sooner and done more to get fictional!Matty out, and fictional!Matty knows that, but there's no way he would have let fictional!George do anything more than he did. Fictional!George knows that, too, but he hates it. Everyone is sad, as they so often are in my fics.

The whole entire nightmare scene is just so. I just wrote this scene for the fictional!Matty!POV version of this fic and it is, dare I say, possibly even sadder. Also, tell your therapist I made you sad before you buy a gun. Maybe don't buy a gun at all, actually.

Fictional!George has nightmares, too, and they're all about losing fictional!Matty =( =( I know I keep saying it, but he loves fictional!Matty so, so much and they're maybe a little bit (maybe a lot) codependent to the point that all their hurt is shared and fictional!Matty's mental illness never has and never will be just his own, which is somehow both wonderfully poetic and horribly tragic. (I love a good tragedy. Catharsis my beloved.)

Prada chain necklace, Prada chain necklace!! I love her! I also love gift giving as an expression of love so much, and not in a materialistic, 'I love things' kind of way, but in a 'I'm always with you' kind of way. Also, a kind of possessive way. <- who said that? Not me, I'm normal.

He has fictional!George!!! It's the answer to every 'are you ok?', every 'will you be alright?', every 'do you need anything?' He's always had fictional!George, and always will, even if he's afraid he won't. There's so much love and trust in three words and fictional!George is going to think about it forever probably. We'll see if I remember this when I write the next part.

You need me in history books?!?!?!?!? (I did want to be a historian for a long time.) Oh my god. Thank you so much is not enough!! Oh my god. Also, poor, sad fictional!George. He can't make fictional!Matty uncomfortable so he can be more comfortable, but that doesn't mean he's not heartbroken.

Fictional!Matty thinks he's irreparably broken and fictional!George doesn't know how to change his mind =( Also, still don't buy a gun. Maybe get like a sword or a cool knife. Those are way better than a gun.

Poor fictional!George is so stressed!! Does fictional!Matty want to kill himself?? He doesn't know what to do with that, not in combination with everything else. I'm so thrilled by your comments on the way I wrote this--I wanted it to feel because what the hell are you supposed to do when your partner says they want to kill themself??? Thank you!!

The mental gymnastics that fictional!Matty is doing to blame himself are honestly impressive. I cannot pay for your therapy, unfortunately. I am an unemployed student. I can (and will), however, write you more fic where maybe someone is eventually happy. The secret to putting a lot of sadness in very few words is, um, commitment? I dunno.

There is, in this fic, particular attention to the language that gets used to discuss things, and part of that is fictional!Matty blaming himself for what happened, but fictional!George's willingness to use that language is partially him not wanting to think about it. If he uses the language that fictional!Matty uses, then he frames it differently in his own head and then it doesn't hurt quite so bad.

Poor fictional!George. That could be the subtitle of the whole The Big Light series: poor fictional!George. He know fictional!Matty, he's been there through everything, seen everything, but somehow it all just gets worse all the time and he misses fictional!Matty so much and he feels awful for that, but he misses hearing seeing fictional!Matty smile or hearing him laugh. He misses fictional!Matty =(

Fictional!George really, really needs a hug (probably from fictional!Matty) and he feels so unequipped to deal with this, but he's all he's got because he can't tell anyone else what fictional!Matty has told him in confidence. And he's an adult and he's dealt with a lot when it comes to fictional!Matty, but it makes him feel so young and lost and he kind of wishes they could be sixteen again so he could do better.

He'll be happy eventually, they both will!! I have a plan, they're just going to be sad first.

Fictional!Matty is trying so hard!! He knows fictional!George better than he knows himself and he knows fictional!George won't actually talk to someone unless he suggests it, even if he has the idea without fictional!Matty saying anything. They're a little bit codependent, but it's all fine. Everything's fine.

I'm sending virtual tissues =) He's still Matty!! He is but he's not and fictional!George doesn't know how to reconcile that, but he's trying. Fictional!Adam might be right here, though, fictional!George just doesn't want him to be.

I'm actually always a little worried I about how I write the relationships beyond fictional!M+G, so I'm so happy that you found it natural--thank you so much!! Fictional!George really needed to hear that he's doing things right, thank god for fictional!Adam.

They're going to be happy eventually!! I promise. Poor fictional!Matty just has a lot of feelings and a lot of shit to deal with first.

They're so in love and fictional!Matty really thinks he's making the person he loves miserable and he hates that idea so much, so fictional!George saying it is a good reminder that the love goes both ways and that they're a team.

There's something very soft and wonderful and intimate about seeing someone when they've just gotten up. I'm also pretty sure that the mark of being really in love with someone with curls is thinking they look good when they've just rolled out of bed. My hair makes me look a little bit like some kind of deranged swamp witch when I've just woken up. If someone thought I looked good then, I'd go buy a ring.

Fictional!George thinks about fictional!Matty all the time!!! There's so much love there and I will not stop!! =)

I keep thinking about all the interviews I've seen/read with Matty where he, at the very least, seems very candid and willing to have a conversation, rather than just answer some questions, and that creates this fear he has in this series about doing press because he doesn't want to talk about it and he doesn't want the whole world to know about this and he's also generally a little bit scared of everything that's not existing at home with fictional!George. Fictional!Matty knows exactly the kinds of questions he'll get asked and he's so afraid he'll wind up in a position where he has to decline to answer questions or give half-answers that are very clearly just that or that he'll accidentally say too much. Fictional!George is just thrilled he got fictional!Matty to leave the house for something non-essential.

Fictional!George loves him so much!!!!! Fictional!Matty is his person and he's going to do everything he can to make sure he knows it.

Fictional!Matty had a reaction to that (he may have argued with his therapist about it), so he expects Fictional!George to have a reaction to it, too.

Fictional!George is so good for him!!! Fictional!George treats him so well and cares for him so deeply that of course he's good for fictional!Matty. How could he not be????

'My Matty'!!!!!!!!!!!!! I, too, feel insane about this. You always say the best things about this series and I can tell you're super normal about it. The normal-est.

There's so much love, even when everything is so sad!! They're trying so hard and they love each other so much!!

There's a line in The Song of Achilles, which is kind of a meh book, about knowing the person you love no matter what that I thought about in writing this in that fictional!George knows fictional!Matty no matter what. He knows fictional!Matty in every mood, every circumstance, no matter what because he loves him. There's a bit in Eurydice that I thought about too, about remembering that you love someone simply because you do. You're right, they are two halves of something bigger than themselves because they love each other and always will.

Fictional!Matty loves it!! He loves the necklace, but more than that, he loves what it represents, that fictional!George loves him and wants him and cares enough to give him a gift and also that fictional!George is almost laying a claim to him.

There's something ridiculously intimate about putting on someone else's necklace that makes me a little bit insane and also fictional!George so wanted to see fictional!Matty wear it for super normal reasons.

Thank you so, so much for the ask and the compliments!!!!! 💚💚💚 I will be thinking about this forever and ever. I have three more fics planned for this series and then it'll be done (unless someone convinces me to write more) and then I'll start the Unsent Project fic. 💚💚

[mysteriousmissfsart]

After a week of stress and brewing inner turmoil Yuu gets sadder and sadder so Malleus turns into a cat so Yuu can pet his head while they cry silently in bed to sleep

It can be however you like

This just gave me ideas, lots of them!

I hope that you’re okay with me taking some ✨artistic liberties✨ while writing for this prompt. I also took some time because I really wanted to do my best!

I really hope you like it!

This will be a long one. There’s also an extra part at the end!

The reader will be female!

Warning: Mentions of anxiety and mental illness

—————————————————————————

A Friend Is What You Need

You’ve had a very long mentally and emotionally exhausting week. Everyone noticed the fact that you weren’t feeling well, except a certain someone.

You were walking down the hallways of NRC with Ace, Grim and Deuce. The boys were trailing behind you, but you didn’t notice as you were deep into your thoughts.

“Don’t you guys feel that y/n looks a bit sad lately?” Grim whispered to the other two.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed that too!” Ace whisper-yelled back.

“She’s probably exhausted because of all the exams and the recent overblot.” Deuce pointed out.

You kept walking not noticing that the boys weren’t with you anymore. They were too deep into their conversation to notice that you had walked far ahead as well.

“My poor henchman! She needs my support! I should go to her!” Grim started looking around for you.

“Fna?! She’s not here! Where’d she go!?”

“She must’ve walked ahead without us.” Deuce reassured the cat monster.

“We should prepare something to cheer her up!” Ace suggested to the others.

The boys began loudly discussing how to cheer you up, when someone approached them.

“Oh? What are you all doing in the middle of the hallway, if I may ask?” Lillia approached the boys from behind.

“Fna! You scared me!” Grim jumped into Ace’s arms.

“Lillia senpai! We were discussing how to cheer y/n up! She’s been looking sad lately.” Deuce answered.

“Dude! Get down!” Ace yelled at Grim, dropping him from his arms and getting a loud yelp in return.

“Ah. I see. I have noticed it as well. I think that she might need to ‘let it out’ as you youngsters call it.” Lillia gave them a reassuring grin.

“Right. Hmmm….I think that we should bake something for her. When she sees what we’ve prepared, she’ll cry in happiness!” Deuce put his fists together in excitement.

“We should get going then! Let’s go ask Trey-senpai if he can help us!” Ace pushed Grim and Deuce to get them going.

“Wait, Ace! Ahgh!” Deuce and Grim protested loudly.

“Thank you for your help, Lillia-senpai!” Deuce thanked his senior.

Lillia waved at the boys with a smile before teleporting to Diasomnia.

~~~

Lillia arrived in front of Malleus’s chambers. He knocked and headed in after hearing a muffled “come in”.

“Excuse the intrusion.” Lillia saw Malleus sitting at his desk finishing his homework.

“Ah, Lillia. Is something the matter?” Malleus looked at his caretaker with curiosity.

“Well, it seems that your dear friend is feeling unwell-” Lillia got cut off by a concerned Malleus.

“Is she sick? I need to visit her.” Malleus’s concern caused rain and lightning outside.

“Malleus. Please calm down and let me finish.” Lillia gave him a stern look.

“My apologies. Please continue.” The dragon fae calmed down, causing the weather to go back to normal.

“I just heard from her friends that she was ‘looking sad lately’. I only thought of telling you because I know how much you cherish her.”

“Indeed, she is the only true friend I have. Y/n is the only person I can be myself around. I have to help her out, even by only being there.” Malleus spoke sincerely.

“I know. Be on your way then. You do not have all day.” Lillia chuckled heartily.

“I will, thank you Lillia.” Malleus spoke before teleporting to Ramshackle dorm.

~~~~

You were laying in your bed, looking at the ceiling. Exhaustion, stress, anxiety and negative emotions were slowly consuming you from the inside. You couldn’t sleep it off and you couldn’t cry it out. All of these factors made you mad at yourself.

“Why can’t I just be happy? Just this once. Please.” You spoke to yourself softly but the voices in your head became louder.

“Just shut up! Let me be! I don’t want to hear more from you!!” You grabbed your head in pain.

The more you fought the voices, the louder and more controlling they got. They demanded you give up but, you wished for something to make the fight against them worth it. You didn’t only need your own voice to fight them alone, you needed another voice to help you as well. The voice of someone who understood you.

“Child of man? Are you alright?” Malleus walked to your side, his voice snapping you out of your trance.

“Tsunotaro. What are you doing here?” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

“My apologies. I walked in when you didn’t answer the door. I think that I did the right thing, you seem to be in pain.” Malleus looked at you in concern.

“I’m sorry for worrying you. I’m fine, really. Just a small headache.” You lied to him, looking away. You didn’t want to burden him with your problems.

“Y/n. I know that you are hiding the truth. I know that something is troubling you, however, I will not pry further. Please allow me to just stay by your side.” He looked at you with determination.

You sighed in defeat and patted the spot beside you on the bed. Malleus seated himself at the edge of the bed, looking away from you with his head low.

“Malleus? Are you upset?” You asked him carefully.

“No. Not with you. With myself.”

“Why? You didn’t do anything wrong.” You approached him carefully, putting your hand on his shoulder.

“I didn’t realize that you were feeling unwell until I heard of it from Lillia. Truthfully, it makes me feel like a bad friend. Have I really not shown any compassion to the point where you hide your pain from me?” Malleus questioned himself.

“No, Malleus. You’ve been an amazing friend! I actually feel at ease because you’re here right now. I’m a lot calmer now. I was going crazy before you came.” You laughed a bit awkwardly.

“Y/n.”

“Hmm?”

“You have been calling me by my first name instead of Tsunotaro and it is making me feel sad.” Malleus spoke seriously, glancing slightly at you.

“Huh? Pffft! Ahahaha!” You laughed heartily at the grumpy dragon fae.

“It is not funny. I am truly serious. Child of man-” Malleus trailed off when he saw how happy you looked and began laughing with you.

“I’m sorry Tsunotaro! You looked really cute-” You suddenly began sobbing.

“Child of man?” Malleus looked at you in surprise but his expression softened as he got an idea.

A green light shone brightly beside you. You looked up to see a black cat with green eyes where your friend had been seated. It moved its tail from side to side and moved close to your hands, making you pat its head. You chuckled in amusement and spoke to it softly.

“Did you just turn into a cat because you wanted to console me or because you craved head pats? Tell me the truth Tsunotaro.” You sniffed as you looked at the fae seriously.

“Both. I want to console you and get head pats. I also want you to speak to me like you would speak to a normal cat, I’ll do my best to resemble one.” Malleus spoke bluntly while reassuring you.

“I could give you head pats in your normal form as well. It would be strange though, so this is better.” You smiled at cat Malleus and motioned for him to get closer so you could pat him.

You layed down on your side with cat Malleus an arm’s reach away. Tears started flowing down from your eyes and you sobbed as you felt all the sadness leave your body. Malleus looked at you every now and then, occasionally patting your arm to calm you down and make sure that you were okay.

You fell asleep after a while, snoring loudly out of exhaustion. Malleus patted your arm and head before hopping of your bed and turning back into his normal form. He made sure to cover you with the blankets before leaving.

“Good night child of man. I hope I can become a friend that you can trust with your worries someday.” Malleus looked at you with a sad smile before teleporting to his dorm.

—————————————————————————

~EXTRA~

“Ahhhhh! We’re finally done!” Ace stretched in exhaustion.

“Baking sure is hard! It could even count as a sport!” Grim stretched as well.

“It’s all worth it as long as prefect likes it.” Deuce reminded the other two.

“Yeah. Let’s go deliver it to her! I hope she’s still awake.” Ace picked the cake up while Deuce and Grim carried the two tarts.

~~~~~

*Huff* *Huff*

“Aghh. This is exhausting! How can a tart be this heavy?!” Grim complained as they made their way towards your dorm.

“Ah, ugh! Stop complaining! We’re almost there!” Ace gritted his teeth and kept on walking.

“Eh, ahgh! Anything for prefect!” Deuce spoke out of breath causing Grim and Ace to feel sorry for him.

The boys finally arrived at Ramshackle dorm and walked through the door completely out of breath. Putting the baked goods on the kitchen counter, they searched for you.

“Don’t tell me she already went to sleep-” Deuce spoke the thought they had been dreading.

“That would probably be for the best. I’d hate for her to be awake and deal with all the sadness she’s been dealing with.” Ace sighed in defeat.

“You can stay here. Like a sleep over. She’ll be surprised when she sees us all sleeping in the lounge!” Grim grinned happily at his own thought.

“I’ll text Cater-senpai and Trey-senpai.” Deuce started texting them.

“I’ll prepare our sleeping spot.” Ace began preparing.

The boys finally settled down in the lounge. They all slept quickly.

~~~~~~

You woke up a bit early, feeling a lot better after getting a good nights rest. You headed to the lounge because you couldn’t find Grim anywhere in your room.

You walked in quietly to find a sleeping Ace holding Grim in his arms on the large couch while Deuce was sleeping on the small one. You giggled at the sight and took your chance to take a picture of your adorable friends.

Ace woke up groggily and his eyes widened when he saw you. He shook Grim awake and, to your amusement, yelled at Deuce to wake up.

“Prefect!” Deuce jumped up from his place and ran to you, Grim and Ace doing the same.

They all jumped at you, engulfing you in the warmest hug you could possibly get. They let go of the hug after a minute and dragged you towards the kitchen excitedly.

“Close your eyes, y/n! We have a surprise for you!” Ace made sure that your eyes were closed properly.

You arrived at the kitchen. Deuce opened the fridge and took something out, placing it on the table in front of you.

“You can open your eyes now!” The boys yelled in unison.

“Okay!” You opened your eyes slowly to see the excited grins of Ace, Deuce and Grim. The most mouthwatering desserts were placed in front of you as well.

“You made this?” You asked, touched.

“Yes! We really wanted to surprise you and make you feel better.” Deuce explained.

“Thank you! Thank you so much! You’re the greatest friends anyone could ever wish for. I’m so lucky to have you.” You began crying in happiness and hugged the boys.

“Anything for our friend!” Ace said with a grin.

The two boys and Grim gave each other a thumbs up when you weren’t looking, indicating that their plan was a complete success.

The End

[logolepsy-babble]

I Finished The Sun and The Star

and it took me a few months to finish. As an annotator, I decided I wanted to share some annotations.

content warning: i talk about Luke and suicide

To all the Nicos, Wills, Pipers, and everyone in between: this is for you./May you shine as bright as the sun and the stars.

I 🖤 you.

Key: giggles cute Darius, you asshole. I am crying, this is not muy feliz THE PLOT?! IS PLOTTING?!/Quotes

Nico bristled at that. A story? Any old story? That seemed too easy after everything they’d been through.

“Bristled” ugh, I wanna eat this book

Nico’s stomach rolled. The gauze strips were soaked through with blood again.

THE WRITING IS SO GOOD???

“Tell me about the two of you,” she said.

Black cat X Golden retriever

Depressed X Mentally unwell but well hidden

Couple goals.

3.141

Why is it pi

(There is nothing more disconcerting than walking in the morning and finding a freshly incarnated zombie standing over you, ready to take your breakfast order.)

Doesn’t seem that odd.

As soon as Jason set him down that day, Nico had barked, Don’t ever grab me again./Now, staring at the unnerving bust of Diocletian, Nico wished for nothing more than to feel Jason Grace’s protective arms around him. But Jason wasn’t here.

:(

The smoke had a bitter, sulfuric smell, and Nico, Will, and Chiron all started coughing.

Though I knew it was profetic I still thought Leo did smth.

“So, you’ve basically become like one of those annoying notifications in a video game reminding me to complete a side mission.”

Since when did Nico play video games?

“I’m telling you,” said Nico, “you won’t need half that stuff on the journey.”/“We’ll see about—“ Will began, and then something toppled out of his bag and smacked him in the face. “Ow!”/Nico restrained himself, because he knew laughing wouldn’t make the situation better, even though it was very, very funny.

Romance never dies with Solangelo.

“I love Golden Oreos, for starters.”/“Oh, please. That’s obvious. They’re basically the Apollo’s version of an Oreo anyway.”/“And the morally superior choice.”

Excuse me?

this Percabeth pep talk

LMAO

“We met…way before the Battle of Manhattan, actually,” said Will, leaning against Nico.

We better see this in the TV series. Rick.

Nico didn’t want to ask what was wrong. He already knew the answer. Still, the words spilled from his mouth. “Hey! Where’s my sister?”

I’m not ready for this scene to be in the series.

curly blond mane

is he a horse

was moot now.

please use 21st century words

But what had made this one ability materialize at that particular moment? Fear? Desperation?

bisexuality

It was a constant pattern for Nico: find some sort of solace and comfort,

Nico Will find Solace in someone.

Now here was Solace in his lap, sleeping like a baby.

Will is Nico’s Solace, what he’s needed.

“At least I had the foresight to find Hermes attractive.”/“Hermes? Are you kidding me? Who goes for Hermes?”/“I do,” said Will./“Wow, you really do like underdogs,” muttered Nico./…said Nico, but then he shook his head at Will. “Hermes.”/“I thought this was a safe place,” Will said, smiling.

Lin Manuel Miranda guys

well, he’s been different.”

“I can fix him” said Menoetes.

Or Luke.”

Killing himself doesn’t make him better.

Will stuffed one pomegranate into Nico’s jacket pocket, then slipped the other two into pockets on his own shorts./“Oh my gods,” said Nico. “I can’t believe your cargo shorts are coming in handy.”/Will beamed. “I told you so.”

Men. ☕️

-

Why does this series get gayer as it goes on? Is it because we went from straight man to queer?? (Not complaining)

Was Nico envious of the bull-man?

I did not think I’d read that. Ever.

Nico reached in the pocket of his jeans. He took out the coin, running his fingers over the embossing until he’d traced every bit of it./“You brought my gift,” said Will, smile lines crinkling around his eyes. “Great minds think alike.”/He reached inside the collar of his shirt and pulled out his gold chain./On it glinted Nico’s ring.

I love my skrunklies 🖤

“Not when [shorts] don’t protect you in a fall!”

Okay but they’re comf

“Acid dissolving in your bones spicy,”

What my mom thinks pepper is

“I let you kill Octavian.

Technically, that was Leo 🤓☝️

I’m sorry, Nico, he thought. I’m sorry I let you down.

This is so sad, pookie

Were they eating each other?

were they WHAT?!

i’m not writing it all but page 328 entirely.

Darius, this is “HEALING”?!

Nico smiled. “I’ll be right there with you.”/That seemed to be enough for Will. He closed the distance between them and planted a kiss on Nico’s lips./“Together,” he said./“Together,” Nico whispered.

They might have an obsession with kissing.

He was finally ready to admit that wearing shorts had not been the brightest idea.

me after wearing shorts in 53*F weather

Chapter 37

I want Nico to meet the Kanes and Egyptian Gods. Please.

Bartholomew!

No, your mama must’ve hated you to give you that name

I’m gonna find so many bones that my bones will have bones!”

I don’t think.. that’s how that…

“You don’t have a choice!” the aeterna bellowed. “If you don’t kill me, I’ll eat you both!”

What kind of suicide mission???

Page 365

Shit balls.

“Nico,” she said, “you should finally meet your children.”

Solangelo parents AU??

He gave his enemy hay fever.

WHAT? and then this picture of a jaw dropped emoji

End of book, page 462

Okay. That was healing.

Maybe the reason Nico isn’t 100% himself is because he’s healing :)

[snezfics-n-shit]

Sicktember Day 4: Hiding An Illness

Fandom: Ace Attorney Characters: Phoenix Wright, Miles Edgeworth Notes: Phoenix and Miles are busy men. As cases pile up for both of them, their married life seems to have switched to autopilot. Going so long without time alone has them both eager for a real date night, and this Saturday happens to be completely free on their schedules. Neither of them have any intention of letting anything get in the way of that, even if it means hiding a slowly blooming cold from an equally unwell husband. As far as the timeline goes, all you need to know is the Wright Anything Agency is very much back on its feet, almost too much. 

“Shit.” 

That was the only thing Phoenix could say as he stared at his reflection in the master bathroom mirror. He looked just awful. A pink gradient dusted across his cheeks, being the most intense as nearly red on the rims of his nostrils. He was supposed to look and feel irresistibly attractive for his husband on their date tonight, and here he was doing neither. Now, if it was Miles… No, no, that would be downright mean on today of all days, albeit still providing an incredibly sexy mental image.

He exhaled slowly. Surely he could do something about this.

He started with lightly applying petroleum jelly on the most obviously chapped parts of his face. He was careful not to use too much, of course, to avoid looking suspiciously oily. That alone did a lot of good, and provided welcome relief… He just had to be careful when blowing his nose, which could easily undo all this effort.

“Love? Are you alright?” Miles’s knock and calling through the door snapped Phoenix out of his silent fretting. “You’ve,” a curious pause, “been in there for quite a while.”

“Yeah, I just… I just noticed the toilet looked like it needed another cleaning!” Phoenix cleared his throat. “I’ll be right out.” He quietly slipped a travel tub of the same petroleum jelly in his suit pocket.

There needed to be an awful lot of spare cleaning supplies in the restaurant bathroom if he didn’t think of another reason for frequently sneaking off soon. 

. . .

Miles was quite proud of himself once it was his turn to assess his appearance at the same mirror. He still could only barely comprehend Phoenix’s reasons for his frequent toilet cleaning; after all, he did say it came from an old habit that ran in his father’s side of the family for generations, but was no longer needed at home now that there were no worries about making good impressions when providing a place for some kind of “overseer” to stay. Unneeded or not, this habit afforded Miles with time to sneak away and make use of some stage makeup Trucy left behind after moving into her new college dorm. No, he was not going to ruin all the effort he put into looking like the picture of health by crying over the thought of Trucy no longer being a little girl. 

Miles was absolutely sure Phoenix wouldn’t even notice the heavy bags under his eyes, and if he did, he would at least conclude they came from a long week of sleepless nights spent staring at his work computer. If he wore his glasses right, Miles hardly caught a glimpse of said bags in his reflection. 

He had this, as he once heard Larry say, “in the bag.” He had the spare makeup in the bag, too, or rather, his suit pocket. 

. . . 

Well, this was going to be a disaster. 

At least, Phoenix felt like it would become one as soon as he could feel his nose running just as he was settling into the surprisingly uncomfortable chair facing his husband across the white-clothed table. Miles was looking right at him, and it was too early in the date to excuse himself to the restroom yet. With how the establishment seemed to pinch pennies on these chairs, he wouldn’t be surprised if the paper towels provided would make him look worse than he felt. 

“Please, forgive me, darling. I’ll be right back.” Miles excused himself, likely to the restroom that Phoenix was now definitely not allowed to use now, but at least that meant Phoenix could sneakily swipe at his nose with one of the fancy cloth napkins as soon as Miles was out of sight. Thank god, they were actually soft. 

Phoenix perused the drink menu, carefully noting to avoid anything bubbly that might aggravate his already irritated throat. What would he do if Miles wanted a bottle of champagne, though? To turn it down would be even more incriminating, and speaking of incriminating, Phoenix hadn’t even thought of what dish was most accommodating for his lack of appetite. 

Miles’s definition of “right back” seemed awfully loose right now, too. Phoenix worried if his husband didn’t hurry up and return, he may find himself too comfortable not having anyone’s eyes on him, only for that excessive comfort to be the night’s plans’ undoing. 

Come on, come on…

. . . 

“Sorry to have made you wait.” 

“Huh?” Phoenix looked up. “Oh, yeah, it’s all good.”

Miles sighed in relief as Phoenix seemed to forgive his absence. He was lucky to have a husband that hardly ever asked for detailed explanations of any situation outside of the courtroom. What would he have had to say if an explanation was needed, anyway? A true answer would be that Miles had locked himself in a restroom stall to stifle a set of sneezes in a painful fashion until the need to do so finally subsided, but it being the middle of January would make for more questions than answers he was willing to give.

“So, uh, I was thinking we could order the soup first, and go from there.” Phoenix suggested. “I heard it’s pretty filling on its own, and really good, too.” 

Miles squinted. Had Phoenix caught onto him? Soup sounded heavenly, and it was light, too. It was almost too perfect of an idea. Phoenix even started to look nervous just a few seconds into Miles’s evaluation of the potential order. Miles needed to navigate this with great care. 

“I’d quite like that, yes.” 

Judging from Phoenix’s look of relief, Miles had been successful in his carefully worded answer.

. . . 

As the soup was placed in front of them next to glasses of Miles’s miraculous choice of a wine with no bubbles to be seen, Phoenix considered himself to be in the clear. It was a pretty close call, after all, when Miles squinted at him upon making the suggestion of ordering the soup. 

The wine’s alcohol content even seemed to be enough to make Miles cough, which meant Phoenix could easily time his own coughs with a properly sized sip of wine. It didn’t really taste as strong to him, though, but maybe Miles was just that much of a lightweight. Perhaps he could even mask his growing fatigue as a result of the wine as well. This was so convenient.

This was too convenient. 

Phoenix should have known that his husband could likely read him like a book by now. Miles had seen right through his façade and was kind enough to gently accommodate his cold without directly calling him out on being sick on the one date night the couple had been able to plan in almost a year. 

Now he felt horribly guilty to have tried deceiving him. It was now time to come clean, to restore the trust he had surely made a dent in, if not broken.

“Miles, babe, I’m really sorry for—”

“No, no. You don’t have to apologize for figuring me out.” Miles assured him. So he did know Phoenix was sick, huh? “I suppose it’s time for me to come clean.”

“What? No way! I should be apologizing.” 

Why would Miles need to apologize when Phoenix was the one who was hiding an illness? If anything, Miles ought to have been giving him a light lecture on how he should be at home in bed, and he would have been completely right to do so. 

“Please, there’s no need to apologize for figuring out the truth. It’s what you do so well in court, after all.” Miles cleared his throat, far more roughly than he usually did. “I must admit I haven’t been well.” 

Phoenix stared at his husband blankly. The stuffiness of his head did affect his hearing, but this was outside the scope of just some muffling. 

“Wait, you–” 

“It was wrong of me to hide that from you.” Miles looked up to find Phoenix’s face beginning to grow rather pale. 

“So… You weren’t hiding that you figured out I was sick?” 

“I thought you had been the one to catch me in the act.” 

Maybe someday down the line, the two could laugh about this, but for now, the couple’s course of action was just getting home and into bed.

. . . 

The king sized bed that Phoenix and Miles shared was now almost unrecognizable: covered in varying spare blankets, tissue boxes, and the contents of said boxes that neither of the two had the energy to throw into the garbage bin.

“Hey, you know,” Phoenix paused to blow his nose, and it felt so good to finally put full effort into doing so, “this is still kind of a date night.”

“You’re absolutely right.” Miles snuggled up closer to his husband. “If we were both in perfect health, I’m sure we would both be in bed as part of the date by now.” The roughness of his cold-affected voice made that sound even more sensual than he intended, but he didn’t mind that at all. “I hope you’re not looking forward to seeking that kind of decongestant, by the way. I’m far too exhausted.”

“Oh, believe me,” Phoenix laughed as carefully as he could to avoid coughing into Miles’s ear, “I’m beat, too.” 

“How about some sleep, then?” Miles yawned. “That is, as much as we can.”

“You don’t even have to ask.”

[healingcoldog333]

Sunday, January 14th, 2024

I’m self admitting to the psych on Tuesday. I’m not scared to go anymore, if anything I’m looking forward to it.

I’m very mentally unwell and I don’t want to hurt myself. I need new medication and a Therapist and a psychiatrist. Going is all around a good thing.. right?

I just feel so gross. I feel dirty and the small holes I dug into my wrist make me wanna throw up every time I see them. I keep crying for no reason and being ugly to the ones I hold dearest. I don’t feel like a person.

Never mind a good one. I am not a concept in my mind. Even if I was I believe down to my core I’m not worth anything. My worth is determined in how useful I am to other people. I am not the main character in my story. My feelings don’t matter. I am nothing but I wanna use my time for good. So I listen, I bandage wounds, I put up pills and blades that should of been put up years ago. I call for help but never for me.

I need to be taken care of for once

I miss when I loved myself. I miss when I didn’t loath the person I’ve become.

I’m ready to get proper help.

I want to be happy

[mejomonster]

Chapter 131. I love Luo Wenzhou silently like: I mean... is Fei Du STILL lying, you reckon? He was raised by Fei Chengyu and thought it was the Right way to be... is it possible he's still lying and playing me? I'm not even mad if so, just sad he was raised so fucked up and I wasn't there and didn't know once I Was there. And I just loved him so much I did my best to connect but. Could I even really have connected to a boy like that? With such a different fundamental view on right and wrong from childhood? Was Fei Du crying, recently? Fei Du is so open with me now, I hope he's telling me enough, tells me enough when he's ready. Is there anything else critical he hasn't said yet? My Fei Du...

Fei Du, aloud: ... anyway the CASE so

Luo Wenzhou mentally: <3 ;-; my fei du

To an ordinary person, assassination is a serious crime that there’s no coming back from. They absolutely won’t make that kind of choice unless they have no way out. But to Wei Wenchuan, it’s an advanced strategy reserved for adults only, his father’s prerogative. Adolescents have an intense desire and curiosity towards the adult world. He’d do it if you only gave him two things—the puffed up feeling of being grown up, and the ability to obtain the ‘tool.’” Fei Du’s fingertip drew a line over Wei Wenchuan’s photograph. “Single-handedly establishing the order at school gave him that puffed up feeling, and having him conveniently run into Lu Guosheng gave him the tool. He was like a child holding kindling. Sooner or later, he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back.”

 

Luo Wenzhou paused and couldn’t resist letting his mind wander a little. He thought that what Fei Du said made sense, and that was why it made him feel something was off.—At the age when a small child was like a blank piece of paper, he didn’t know the difference between good and evil and would imitate his parents. His views towards some things would already be taking rudimentary form while he was learning to talk; it would be very difficult for later education to change them. So there was nothing remarkable about Wei Wenchuan growing up like this.

 

But thinking about it carefully, Fei Du had grown up in almost exactly the same environment as Wei Wenchuan. What had made him resist Fei Chengyu so fiercely?

 

It was hard for Luo Wenzhou to imagine that it was merely because of his mother.

 

The reason that the majority of people thought of “mama” as a warm and sacred form of address was that when they’d learned to pronounce it, they’d linked it to the parent who raised and taught them; because they were filled with affection towards this person, they invested this word with a special meaning. But from the few words that Fei Du had let slip, it seemed that his earliest acquaintance with the word “mama” had been attached to a hysterical madwoman, punished every day for doing the wrong thing, mentally unwell, her position not even as high as a housekeeper’s.

 

Would the sort of woman who left that impression really have been able to use her life to overturn the brand left by Fei Chengyu?

 

Luo Wenzhou couldn’t help remembering the day they’d been investigating Lu Guosheng’s whereabouts, when Fei Du had made that strange and accurate inference about the employee bus. He hadn’t had time to think carefully about it then, but now his misgivings floated up again.

 

He must have been staring at Fei Du too long. Fei Du gave him a slightly dubious look, and Luo Wenzhou suddenly discovered that the redness floating at the corners of his eyes still hadn’t receded fully. His rigorously calculating line of thought staggered in its steps, nearly slipping into the abyss flowing below. He hastily withdrew his gaze, coughed dryly, and sat up properly.

[tacobellpotatotaco]

what’s going to happen to me when i can’t make my payments on time? what will happen to you? what if i get stopped, and this tumor gets to grow and grow and grow? They always collect their money somehow. They find ways. There’s so many of you i can’t keep track. I hope you’re being safe out there. You’re gonna be scared but not take this serious, you play a dangerous game. I wish you understood to take the things I say not so lightly. I wish I didn’t have to remind you. I can’t hold your hand through this. I could barely hold them off. You’re not scared enough for me, I know all you think about is you. They’re going to make an example of me soon, I know it. I might have gotten through. But not without some price to pay. I’ll be there, in some dark corner, and they will find me and I am just going to have to lay there, like before, and that other time, and I’m just going to close my eyes, and count to pass the time, to focus on something, anything but this. It’s going to be okay, I think to myself. I know it’s just to comfort me inside. I can’t make promises to myself. how could I promise anything to you?

We’re not friends. We aren’t. you saw my pain all laid out. You’re not sorry. You’re mentally unwell and maybe that I could feel bad about. Maybe this situation is the one that teaches you a lesson you don’t need to repeat. Otherwise it’ll take you closer to God. Show your face if you want. I don’t care. I won’t be there to remind you. All it took to never get in this shit hole of a situation was a sorry. How ironic is it that this will make you feel sorry whether you want it or not.

I know between the five of you, there won’t be close to enough to what I’ll pay. I’ll pay it. I don’t care. I won’t even ask you for a fucking cent because you’d accuse me of being cheap. Wouldn’t you know something about that. I see red when I think of you now, you piss me off. I got so annoyed when you wanted to see community members. You’re so selfish but you want to look so giving. You’ll help everyone else before you think twice about looking my way, helping me, saying sorry to me. All it was, all it could have taken. I hope this doesn’t happen, what I think will happen. When I get in these moods, what if I don’t want to warn you? I hate the thought of texting you, I feel disgust and nastiness bubble inside of me. They’re going to wait, when they think they see that you think you’re safe. We’re never safe anymore. You’ve crossed this line forever. It’s not so easy to go back, have you ever been forgiven by a devil? This is not how this works. You said I was the naive one, now look at us. You seem so different but really you haven’t changed a bit.

It’s so complicated. My head goes right to worrying about you, but so differently. Just that you’re physically okay. I don’t hope that you cry about it, not even like me. Maybe because I understand what you did wrong. Not the way I used to care so intricately, and very gently. I had a heart for you and overnight it vanished. This was your final act of love to me and I am thankful. I love you no more. I will find love greater and meant for me. Nothing stands in my way except for you. Helping you, after being used by you. I feel disgusting. You made me disgusting.

I don’t want you to be hurt. You’d blame me forever about it, and i’m already fed up just thinking of you. Somehow i can’t get over the fact you blocked me. It makes me worry that maybe I am petty. I want to get back at you, not warn you when I could have, and you’ll realize the compassion of mine you take so much for granted. You didn’t even go to HR when i figured it out with a PI. Maybe I don’t want you to heed my warnings. See what happens.

then i REALLY think about it. I pray to god no one sends me cross streets. I would never send them, but I also never want the outcome of that. So stay the fuck home, haven’t you done enough. I can’t imagine you bloody. I don’t want to. but i’m scared i hate you. I must really feel something close to that, its this feeling i can’t explain or describe. I think that I do, yeah. When they ask me what should happen to you, i’m forced into a position of showing you what you’d never show to me. and I’m mad that’s sure, i’m bitter, it’s that too. Bitter that your life will most likely go on more normally than mine will. Whyd you mess this up for me?

Take me again, David, to your parents room. Take me back in time when I couldn’t have imagined wanting to tear apart all the pictures of you and I. Talk to me once again about peaky blinders, and high school chess club. Take me for a walk in Obregon. Let’s get nachos at the raspados place. Wipe my sticky hands with the few napkins they gave us, you use all of them for me and you let the steering wheel get cheesy. Teach me how to ride a bike. Let’s laugh together when I fall. Kiss my bleeding knees. Imagine they got there from a bike ride. Don’t look at my face, they’ll know you know who I am. Don’t let me look back at you, I’m scared I’ll point you out to them. Run, David, fast as a jaguar, just like the movie. Don’t look back, David, just like how you said. Don’t slow down, I always dragged you behind. Funny how that’s true again. Leave me just like that last time. If you want to go fast, do it alone. If you want to do it good, do it together. Don’t give up, David, you have the potential. You can start a life and leave this behind. I’ll spend this lifetime, protecting yours. You told me your groupchat, all nine or ten of you, when you’ll have kids, they’ll have so many uncles. Don’t you know I’ll be there, protecting those four, and you too? For the rest of my life, to an ex lover who has permanently ruined my life. Live this life I fought so hard to have, paying this house down, paying everyone I’ll owe, now. You have the degree I want, the charisma I never had, the selfishness that seems to keep you alive with blood in your veins and food on your table. Your mom and dad love you, and your brother and sister need you. Beauty needs you. Go live, go now, keep your head down, and when you look up, you’ll see things will have turned out just fine for you. Lucky. You.

[bisognamorire]

Dear A.,

Happy Saturday!

I feel a bit stupid and pathetic to leave these messages here for you, because for all I know you might not even look at my blog. At least thats what I remember you telling me in a letter. I still hope that they might reach you somehow, somewhen. I had to think of how you agreed to me as we drove to Grasmere, ‘it was so horrible when we didn’t speak last year’. Why did it happen again?

Why, why, why.

Last week, after getting your message and realising I didn’t have the option to send my ‘goodbye’ message to you and wondering why you avoided using the word ‘love’ in regards to me and instead used ‘care’, I became so unwell that I needed desperately to be around people and keep myself from the need to harm myself.

I visited Sharon every day a few hours in the evening or afternoon. At some point she told me that her boyfriend was complaining about me visiting them and that I was annoying him by just seeming ‘down’ and that shes scared he might break up with her because I need so much support. I felt awful. Like I am unwanted wherever I turn to and that I cause harm everywhere. I told Sh. that I wouldn’t visit anymore out of fear that i might endanger her relationship but also out of feeling unwelcome. Seemingly unhappy with that arrangement too, Sh. started berating me for an hour. I want to give you a selection of things she concluded about me:

1. it is my own fault that I don’t have any friends because of ‘how’ i am

2. i don’t even want/ try to be not-depressed

3. the 10 years I’ve been to therapy in total were completely useless because in her opinion I have not progressed an inch

4. I am not making any effort to live ‘independently’ ((despite me literally doing that))

I asked her at least three times to leave my flat while she was ranting to me, but she refused and kept hurting me with those words. My brain switched into dissociation mode then.

People always speak of how we need to destigmatize the mentally ill etc. yet when I show symptoms of being depressed, all my relatives and friends are blowing in the wind. Seems like its more an ideal they’d like to uphold and not a reality that they want to actually bear. people always reveal themselves with their actions.

This week I tried to meet with the few friends I have. Some of those meetings helped me distract myself for a while with mindless chatter and others wounded me more, for example, with Fatma, who treated me harshly and basically kicked me out of her home. I think she didn’t do it out of bad intent. She is just very stressed because of always being at work. I wonder why so many people don't realise that their jobs are killing their joy in life and make them so irritated that they treat everyone around them like shit and why they don’t take action against it. But still, I’ve had enough of people kicking me out of their lives and homes.

Apart from all these things (as you can see, the people around me are little comfort to me) I bought a few tools and paints to create my Yamato (One Piece) cosplay. So, now, when I am not at work, I play my video game ‘Lies of P’ (I’m at that boss fight against Fuoco) or to tinker on the cosplay or take naps. It is good to occupy my mind by trying to figure out how to create things for the cosplay. I don’t get into repetitive thoughts about you and everything when I am doing that.

The other day I formed Yamato’s horns out of Foam Clay.

Yesterday I spray painted them with a layer of liquid plastic and then coloured them with Acrylics.

Since Yamato is a demon, he was shackled but he broke free at some point. I also made his shackles out of EVA foam and I will hopefully paint them today after work.

I miss you horribly and I wish I could cry and weep about your decision to not be in my life anymore or have any part of me in yours. But due to dissociation, I can’t cry these days. I just feel like this empty black hole that threatens to even swallow up itself if I don’t keep my mind preoccupied.

I just sit and stare at the ceiling. I go over your last message to me over and over in my mind and get into panic attacks when I try to think of what you’re doing, how you’re doing because I realise we’ve never not spoken in such a long time and I don’t know anything about you anymore. Most of the time this takes up so much energy of me, that in the end I just rot in bed.

I wish I could know how you’re doing and what's going on in your life, too. Before you asked me not to, I would check your blog but there wasn’t really much that would give anything away and since I also misunderstood the meaning of that greek song (did I really?) I wonder what else I might misunderstand, even if there is any hint. When I don’t see anything I get very disappointed and feel very hurt, so I try not to check it anymore but I feel desperate to. I sometimes wonder how you don't have the same urge to reach out to me and know how I am etc. and it hurts too.

I want to say ‘don’t be a stranger’, and I try not to be one to you by writing these and I wish you’d also not be one to me.

Your Sabo, who loves you.

[pallastronomy]

3, 10, 11, 23 for the end of the year asks thing?

Under the cut for typical Azure rambles

3 - Favorite musical artist / group you started listening to this year?

Moron Police, no questions asked. The Toxhards are a very very close second though

10 - Something that made you cry this year?

A lot of personal things mostly but of the stuff I am willing to divulge… Revstar movie got me again on my most recent rewatch and I also cried rereading my own writing for Rises the Moon and Saint Bernard multiple times

11 - Something you want to do again next year?

Yet again trying to think of non-depressing answers for this… I definitely want to continue the fine art of dragging friends and acquaintances into Revue Starlight. It’s my job

As always I will continue to be mentally unwell about Frontier on main

23 - If you could send a message to yourself back on the first day of the year, what would it be?

You were right. You were right about a lot of things and a lot of people, and it’s going to be anything but pretty when you put the pieces together, but you’re going to grit your teeth and push through it. It’s going to feel weird, being able to breathe again when you didn’t even realize you were suffocating, and even at the end of it all, it’s not going to feel normal. Most of this year is going to be spent falling and then dragging yourself back up to the point you started at, and that’s something you’re going to have to make peace with. You’ll have people at your back, even if they aren’t necessarily going to be who you expect.

You are also going to have potentially the funniest but also somehow the most bizarrely cathartic chance encounter known to man that will take at least some of the years’ worth of weight off of your shoulders, if that’s any consolation. You’ll know it when it happens

[zyonsay]

Hi can you write Oscar Piastri x male reader where the male reader has very bad mental health and starts a mental health journal were he writes in it every day

You keep me grounded OP81

Fem aligned people may read but not f3tishize my work!!

Summary: You aren't feeling well and Oscar wants to talk about it

Reader: Male

Warnings: Mental unwellness

Now playing: My teacher yapping about IT

AN: This is short and rushed, but i hope you still enjoy. Please take care of yourself anon <3

Oscar had noticed that something wasn’t right. It’s not like you didn’t function in your daily life anymore, but you got quieter. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he noticed you starting to write in a small book of sorts.

Whenever he’d catch you writing something in it, you’d immediately hide it under your pillow or put another book over it. Oscar wasn’t careless enough to just search for it and read through it, he understood that would break your trust and invade your privacy.

But he couldn’t take it any longer. Oscar wanted to know what was wrong. He couldn’t stand his boyfriend not feeling well.

You were sitting on the couch in the living room, huddled in a blanket and scrolling through Instagram, when your partner suddenly appeared behind you, leaning down to hug you. This startled you at first, but then you smiled slightly, holding his arms that were wrapped around you.

“Can we talk?”, he said in a rather sad tone, making you wonder what had upset him. You nodded, patting the space next to you on the couch. He sat down and took one of your hands in his.

One look into his warm, brown eyes was enough for tears to start running down your cheeks. His expression looked pained, and he got a bit closer to you.

“I know that something isn’t right baby. Please talk to me. I want to help you.”, Oscar was absently rubbing patterns on your hand, giving it a light squeeze as he looks back into your eyes.

You were struggling to put your feelings into words. Daily life was getting more and more exhausting, and you felt all alone in this mess. Burdening Oscar with your troubles wasn’t really something you wanted to do, but dealing with it alone also didn’t work well.

This was the reason why you started a journal. It was easy and practical, you could vomit your thoughts out onto the paper and then decorate it with pretty flowers, as if you weren’t ugly crying just a few minutes ago. You knew that you should get professional help but organizing everything seemed awfully difficult.

You struggled keeping up the eye contact, so you avoided Oscars soft gaze. 

“I... I feel like shit.” The end of your sentence was swallowed by a big sob, and you started crying again. Oscar slung his arms around you and pulled you into him, holding you close. He calmly stroked your hair, whispering sweet little words.

“I feel so lonely. I don’t want to feel that way. “, you swallowed hard and hid your face in the crook of your boyfriend’s neck.

Oscar hugged you even tighter. “You don’t have to feel that way.”, he tipped your chin up so he can pamper your face with feather light kisses. “We’ll work through it together, I’m here for you.”

He got up from the couch. “Choose a movie you like sweetheart. I’ll go get some snacks,” he smiled warmly at you, before making his way towards the kitchen.

You scrolled through your streaming service and found your favorite movie: Ratatouille.

Oscar and You are now cuddled up with a bowl of popcorn between your legs and various packs of sweets lying all over the couch and the coffee table while Remy, the rat, was cooking a soup on screen.

[cakeinthevoid]

Blinks

Whumptober No. 3: “Like crying out in empty rooms; with no-one there except the moon.”

Journal | Solitary Confinement | “Make it stop.” (2, 3)

Content: Unreliable narrator, isolation, manipulation, young MC, pretending to look unwell and then actually maybe being unwell lmao, mental shenanigans, lab whump

This is a scene that could exist in the very beginning of Lora's confinement—after Dr Abberron takes her off the street and into his super secret super cool research lab. Lora is human (at this point in time...) More of a prompt fill than heavy lore, but I think it does actually set the stage decently.

Lora missed the moon. The sun too, of course, but there was something about a clear night sky of stars and a glowing moon that calmed her soul. 

She needed calm right now. She refused to go crazy. 

“I’m not crazy.”

Talking out loud didn’t make her crazy.

“I’m not crazy.”

Otherwise it was just too quiet. 

She looked up at the camera in the corner of her cell. She only had to tilt her head back an inch; she was sitting against the far wall, and the camera was in the corner above the solid glass cell door. Its red light blinked lazily and she wondered if it caught audio.

“Can you hear me?”

She hadn’t been here long enough to know. She had only seen Abberron a handful of times since the night she was a complete idiot. 

Rule one of being a street kid: don’t trust kind strangers. Too bad she was desperate.

“I hate you.”

The red light kept blinking. 

—

When Lora woke up to a pile of assorted food bars and water bottles, she began to entertain the notion that Abberron was testing her. Or trying to break her. 

She could fake the latter—she had experience, after all—but the former? That was harder without knowing what he was testing. She had a few guesses though. 

See, contrary to all recent evidence, Lora wasn’t stupid. Wasn’t completely stupid, anyway.

So she made a plan. She would ration approximately, in case she was completely wrong and Abberron was just leaving for a few days and didn’t want her to die in the meantime. Then she would wait a day or two before snapping. It had to be realistic. 

She was going to get out of here. She glared at the camera. The red light blinked on. Then she settled back and entertained herself by seeing how high she could toss her pillow and catch it. It was actually a little fun. 

—

She was reciting knowledge from her science class when she suddenly noticed there was no red light. Her words trailed off. 

“Hello?” She tried. Silence.

Just part of the test, she tried to reassure herself. She still had some food and water left. 

Pulling her eyes away from the camera took more effort than usual. 

—

Lora realized she didn’t actually have a sense of time anymore. The lights in the ceiling never turned off. They only flickered every now and then. 

Distantly, she thought about counting the amount of flickers. It was something to do. 

—

The red light came back on when she woke up. It blinked as slowly as ever. 

She tried talking to it for a bit. Nothing happened.

—

Two sleeps after she was down to her last food bar, she considered the possibility that Abberron was dead. 

At least a week must’ve passed already? She had heard of the effects of long term isolation before. She researched it after her first few stints in the closet. Rarely were people able to say exactly how long they were alone. 

At least this room had light. Her descent into madness would be sure and quick if the lights went out. 

They won’t, they won’t—

“They won’t, they won’t, they won’t,” she muttered aloud, rocking herself. 

Snap out of it, said a voice inside. Why did it sound funny? 

She laughed. Maybe she wouldn’t need to fake insanity anymore—

No, she straightened, face sobering. The plan, remember the plan. She looked up. The light was still blinking. If she looked at it long enough, she could imagine a one-eyed ghost blinking at her. 

Sometimes she thought the room would get colder out of nowhere when she did that, but ghosts aren’t real, so it had to be Abberron testing her. 

Sometimes the walls looked different too, if she looked at them hard enough. She swore she saw constellations on them. 

The stars, oh she missed the stars. She looked up at the sun and wished it would set already. 

“Poof.” It didn’t work. 

It was hot, and now she was thirsty. Not a single cloud for rain, but she was sure she had water—

Water bottle. She had a water bottle because there was no other source of drinkable water. She didn’t trust the water pipe or toilet in the corner. Because she wasn’t home, she wasn’t even outside. 

Her head hurt. It’s been too long. Moments of lucidity were becoming far too few and far between. She needed to do this while she was in control. 

She trembled—she wished she was faking that, but she could use it to her advantage. 

She grabbed the unopened food bar within arms reach and brandished it, staring at nothing. 

“Stop it,” she said firmly. There was nothing there, but in the corner of her eye the red light was blinking.

“Stop it,” she said louder. 

Her hand shook with the force she was gripping the bar.

“Go away!” She threw the bar—it hit the glass paneling and fell to the floor. 

“Stop it!” She shrieked, backing away and pressing herself to the far wall. 

“Stop it—make it stop!” She looked up at the camera sharply, hoping that Abberron was watching. 

“Please—make it stop!” She pleaded with the camera. Then she looked back down and jumped in a calculated flinch, as if whatever she saw was closer.

“Get back! Make it stop, please make it stop—“ her eyes darted between the space in front of her and the camera. Her heart was genuinely racing to her surprise. 

She begged and pleaded with the camera, to no avail. So she pushed herself to the corner and curled up there, pulling at her greasy curls. 

“It’s not real, it’s not real,” she chanted to herself. She faked some winces in time with her pulls. The easiest part was the staring. She had gotten very good at staring at nothing for long periods of time. 

She didn’t know how long she kept up the charade. She knew at one point, it stopped being a charade, because she was shaken back into her body—Abberron had his hands on her shoulders. She could feel the rumble of his baritone but no words. 

She flinched back violently, swatting him away and knocking her skull against the grey concrete walls. 

“There you are,” she heard once the ringing in her ears faded. “Can’t leave you alone even for a few days, it seems.”

Her eyes widened. There was no way that was a few days. It felt like weeks, if not months.

“No matter,” he sighed, “At least we can get started today now that preparations are done. Come now, don’t make that face. Can you honestly tell me you would rather be on the streets?”

Yes, Lora thought, but couldn’t form the word. 

At least she was never truly alone out there. Here, she realized a part of her desperately needed Abberrons presence, lest she go mad in isolation. 

Abberron stood up, holding out a hand. “Let’s go. We have a busy day ahead of us.”

Lora didn’t take the hand, but stood up on her own accord. She would persevere. And she would get out whole. 

[whoiskezzzziah]

Memories of A Painful Yesterday: A Pathography by Keziah Gwyneth Bernabe

It was a normal school day on August 1, 2018 when KC felt unwell and she got a sore throat, fast forward when it was lunchtime and she was about to eat already but her feeling got worse, she got chills, and she thought she got a fever then. She told her classmates that she is not feeling well and her classmates advised her to go to the clinic but she insisted on finishing their last subject. During their last subject, she felt that she had a fever already but she was still insisting to finish the last subject until it is dismissal time. Later on, she felt pain on her appendix side and she described the pain as 100/10 so I assume that it was very painful. She said that she was crying already while going downstairs and two of her friends are assisting her going to the clinic, but she didn’t make it to the clinic because she collapsed already on the stairs. One of the guards saw her and the guard picked KC up and they immediately went to the clinic. A few moments passed when KC’s parents arrived to bring her to the Manila Doctors Hospital. When they had already arrived at the hospital, KC was immediately delivered to the emergency room.

KC said that she couldn’t remember some of the events that happened but she said there are tests that the doctors did to her. She was confined and later on, the findings were determined as appendicitis. It was exactly 8 PM on August 1, 2018 when the operation happened, while preparing for the operation, she said that she was nervous and she thought that she would die already. When she entered the operating room, she waited for a few minutes and she said that it was very cold inside and she felt like she was in a freezer. Few minutes later, the doctor injected an anesthesia, then later on, she fell asleep. When she was finally awake, the operation was done successfully and she said that her body was painful because of the operation. 

KC stayed for more than 1 week at the hospital because there are tests that need to be done and the doctor said that she was weak and she shouldn’t be like that after the operation. After a few days, she was finally allowed to go home, her family said that she was pale and looked like dead, of course, it was because of the appendicitis and operation. While recovering, she struggled as she was taking care of the stitch so she really had to do everything with caution and care. KC took many medicines within 1 week for her fast recovery and part of her recovery was to avoid any food that is salty and sweet she was also required to avoid colored drinks. After 1 week of rest and before going back to school, KC went back to the hospital for her check up. On her last meeting with her doctor, that was the time when the stitch was removed from her.

After the occurrences, operation that happened, and medications she took, KC became prone to diseases that is why her parents got overprotective of her. She added that after the operation, she got pneumonia. Appendicitis did not only affect her physical state but also her mental health. KC said that she was depressed and stressed because of the problems and events that happened to her. Despite all of those events, KC managed to survive and overcome the uncertainties that happened to her together with her family, friends and loved ones. 

[furiousgoldfish]

Was I neglected as a child? Checklist

Bold if you experienced it, italicize if you're not sure. If you read a line and it rings true for you, but you think 'that's my fault because I never said anything', bold that line! This is about your experience, not blame assignment. (tw for painful content ahead)

Physical neglect

I couldn't count on having clean and decent appropriate clothing every day.

I couldn't count on having decent meals every day

It was my responsibility to make food/assure there's clothing even at a very young age, or there would be none

I couldn't count on being taken to a doctor when I needed it

I was not receiving proper vaccinations/medications as a child

I was not taken care of for my injuries, flu's, fevers, or health issues

I was left alone and ignored when sick

I felt guilty, ashamed and/or scared when sick

Nobody noticed if I was injured, sick, or scared of something that was happening to my body

It was safer for me to keep my sickness/injuries/medical fears to myself

I felt it would bother everyone, or make everyone mad with me if I admitted to being sick, hurt, or scared about my well being

I had to take care of other kids as a child, so my physical well being felt like an afterthought, it was something I was supposed to take care of myself

If I was taken care of physically, it was used as a blackmail later, I would be required to allow myself to be controlled as a return 'favour'

My medical issues were neglected to the point where they turned into long-term issues later

Emotional neglect

I haven't felt it was safe or welcome to open up to my parents or caretakers as a child

I was not encouraged or supported in expressing my emotions or experiences

I was not encouraged to speak about my passions, desires, or what I wanted from life

I was repeatedly attacked, shamed, ridiculed or manipulated with any private information I would share, forcing me to learn to hide

I was not welcome to speak unless I was somehow entertaining or giving out vital info

It was communicated to me in subtle or direct ways that it doesn't matter what I want or need, and that nobody cares

I was shamed and accused for wanting/needing attention

I was not receiving supportive or warm physical attention as a child (encouraging pats at the shoulder, affectionate hugs, being stroked in approving/affectionate way)

I felt uncomfortable receiving physical attention from my parents as a child because it communicated ownership and non-consensual enforcement, rather than approval and pride

I felt completely alone in any hardship and pain as a child, and knew nobody would stand by my side

I didn't feel safe asking for help, explanations, reassurance, comfort, physical attention or to be listened to

I felt like a burden if I wanted for someone to hug me and tell me it's all going to be okay

I was never comforted or reassured after crying or having a breakdown

I would get ignored, laughed at, humiliated or punished for crying, breaking down, or exploding in rage

I was taught that what I feel is irrelevant, and I would do better to stop expressing it

I was taught that expressing any painful emotion would get me nowhere, and it was better/safer to hide it

I spend hours crying or breaking down in pain/terror/stress/anxiety/catastrophizing alone with no comfort and nobody who cared or wanted to hear what I was going thru

I was to take the role of comforting and emotionally caretaking for my parents, or other children

Psychological neglect

My parents didn't notice I was depressed/anxious/psychologically unwell

My parents failed to provide me with a diagnosis for adhd, autism, or similar struggle, and I had to live and deal with it all on my own

My parents failed to believe me I was mentally ill or struggling with any kind of disability or trauma, leaving me to endure it all on my own

My fears about my value, or my future, were only intensified by my parents behaviour; I never felt reassured and secure in my current living conditions, and even less my future ones

My parents failed to acknowledge my sexuality, gender, world view, and pretended it wasn't there

My parents failed to notice I was self-harming

My parents failed to notice I was engaging in other self-destructive activities that could have, or did, cause long term damage to my life

My parents failed to notice or do anything about changes in my behaviour that signalled trauma (becoming aggressive, clingy, dissociated, numb, closed up, bed-wetting, nightmares)

My parents failed to notice I was missing school

My parents failed to notice I was failling into addictions

My parents failed to notice I was suicidal

My parents failed to notice my suicide attempts

Lack of protection

I was unsupervised for long periods of time as a small child

I was exposed to physical danger as a child without my parents noticing or reacting to it

I was exposed to physical danger and physical violence, by my parents

I was exposed to pedophiles and child predators as a child and was never warned, protected or removed from their influence

I was introduced to pedophiles and child predators by my family members

I was never given protection from bullies, or any unfair treatment during my education

I was never given support or comfort after being hurt by a stranger or a peer

I was bullied/abused/sexually assaulted by another child, and nobody noticed

I was bullied/abused/sexually assaulted by a sibling/neighbour/relative/teacher/peer, and nobody noticed/nobody stood by my side or tried to protect me

I was groomed by a predator (who could even be a family member) and nobody protected me or stopped it from happening

I was exposed to and groomed by a cult, and nobody seemed to notice, care, or help me get out of it

I was not given the knowledge to recognize a sexual assault on me, or grooming or any other predatory behaviour from strangers or other adults

I never felt protected from any outside danger, or felt like I was worth protecting; instead I was taught to feel guilty and ashamed for getting hurt at all

If you have bolded more than 4 of these, you have experienced neglect, and you were forced to struggle alone thru experiences that you were not meant to handle or survive on your own. Neglect is the type of abuse that will have the most disastrous consequences on your trust in people, your relationships, self worth, feeling of community, and will ensure that everything you were put thru is unexpressed, unresolved, and weighing down on your life. You did not deserve to be neglected like this, and none of the above is the result of your behaviour. You were not supposed to be put thru any of this alone, much less as a child.

[sokkas-first-fangirl]

Ooo for a prompt, if you want, Antonio and Mirabel having to promise to be gentle with Bruno because they wanna have some tìo time but Bruno is having a bad mental health day and/or a migraine.

They’re the babies of the family and I love this trio so much 💕💕

“Where’s Tio Bruno?” Antonio asked, looking around the breakfast table with a disappointed pout.

“Bruno’s not feeling well today, bébé,” Pepa said gently. “Remember we told you how he feels sick sometimes?”

“Oh…” Antonio nodded in understanding, but was still plainly disappointed. “But he promised to play today.”

Mirabel leaned in closer to Dolores and whispered, “Migraine or depression?”

Dolores held up two fingers and tapped the side of her head. Ah, bad mental health day then. Mirabel would keep an eye on that.

To her surprise, Bruno ended up joining them for breakfast. He was late and Mirabel’s heart twisted as she realised he’d plainly been crying.

“Tio!” Antonio shot up from his seat and tackled Bruno into a hug. “Are you feeling better?”

“Um- well, I…A bit…” Bruno was plainly scrambling to think of a lie or reassurance, caught off guard. Luckily, Camilo distracted Antonio by pretending to steal his orange juice and Julieta quickly led Bruno to his seat.

He didn’t eat much. Most of his food went to his rats. Abuela tutted over their presence but, for once, she didn’t protest.

That alone told Mirabel how bad it was.

She watched her uncle like a hawk for any signs of distress. No way would he be able to handle a park full of screaming kids today. But would he be able to tell Antonio “no” when he felt like this?

Mirabel didn’t have a lot of experience with this sort of thing. Besides, was it really her business?

She firmly decided that, yes, yes it was. If her Tio was unhappy or unwell, Mirabel wanted to know. She wanted to help.

She couldn’t fix it, she knew that. But she could help.

After breakfast, Tio Bruno seemed only half-aware, stuck in his own head, drifting away. He knocked on the doorframe as he headed for the stairs, his head lowered and eyes dark. What little energy he had seemed to have vanished.

Antonio went racing after him. Mirabel caught him.

“Hold on, hombrecito!”

“But we’re going to the park today,” Antonio said. “Why’s Tio Bruno going back to bed?”

“He’s still not feeling well,” Mirabel explained, as gently as he could. “So he needs to rest.”

Antonio looked like he was thinking very hard about it.

“Can we help him?” he asked. “Maybe Tia Julieta’s food will make him better if he has more.”

“It’s, uh…not that kind of sickness.” Goodness, she was echoing Tio Félix now. “It’s- because of his visions!” It seemed so simple: Antonio already knew that Julieta couldn’t cure vision migraines. It was only a little white lie.

He nodded in understanding, looking sympathetic. Those big sad eyes should have been illegal.

“Then let’s find him a plushie and a story,” Antonio said solemnly. “That always makes me feel better.”

He didn’t wait for Mirabel’s agreement or permission; he went to his room and Mirabel hurried after him. He was sorting through his toys and books and he handed the biggest plushie to Mirabel, holding his favourite book with a smile.

“Let’s go make Tio feel better!” he said and Mirabel just about melted on the spot. She knew they should probably just leave Bruno alone, but…Well, hadn’t that been part of the problem? Leaving him alone had only made it worse before.

So Mirabel followed Antonio to Bruno’s room.

Bruno was curled up in bed, his curtains closed, and the blanket pulled right up over his head. Antonio climbed onto the bed, settling the plushie by Bruno’s head.

Only then did Bruno seem to register that he had company. He lowered the blanket a few inches, revealing tangled hair and painfully sad eyes.

“Uh…?” He pushed the blanket down fully from his face and Antonio sprawled next to him as Mirabel sat on Bruno’s left, the book in her lap.

“We can have a story day,” Antonio said happily. “So we won’t hurt your head.”

For a moment, Bruno’s face was so expressionless that Mirabel feared he’d kick them out. Maybe he’d even snap at them, or start crying, or- well, she didn’t know. But maybe they were only making him feel worse.

Bruno didn’t say anything. His smile was small and weak, barely there- but it was a smile. Mirabel sighed in relief.

“I’ll read,” she said and Bruno shot her a grateful look as he sat up. Antonio cuddled against him, smiling at Mirabel expectantly.

No, Mirabel couldn’t be sure if she was doing the right thing at all. She was willing to bet no one in her family really knew how to help.

But they were trying. They were doing better.

And Bruno was smiling. That was what mattered.

Mirabel opened the book and began to read.