#and I don’t want to go through months of anxiety again because I might lose people that mean so much to me
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lucky
pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader
summary: matt finally gets to take out the girl that's been leaving care packages at his door for two months.
warnings: swearing, slight angst, tooth rotting fluff (might need to call your dentist after this one)
word count: 3k
a/n: the highly requested fluffy sequel to care packages. thank you to everyone that requested this. i hope you enjoy your first date with matty. ❤️ as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!
[part one]
“I hate you, you know that?”
Matt nearly spit out his coffee as he lurched over the conference table slightly, forcing the lukewarm bitter taste down his throat as a wave of incredulous laughter tore through his chest.
“What? Why?”
“Because it isn’t fair. It’s bad enough you’re so goddamn charming, and it’s borderline offensive that you’re like the most attractive dude I’ve ever seen. Not to mention that whole wounded duck routine you’ve got going on that makes all the girls fall at your feet-”
“Foggy, I don’t-”
“-but what’s exceptionally unacceptable is that you somehow managed to find a girl that knows about the horns, and not only didn’t run away, but still agreed to go out with you. Like the fact that you’re a vigilante and a walking human disaster totally didn’t phase her at all. That’s…like…against the rules!”
Matt couldn’t help but snicker at the disgruntled tone lacing his best friend’s exasperated voice, and the way the edges of Foggy’s mouth dipped in displeasure.
“What rules, Foggy?”
“The rules of the universe, Matt. You’ve had too much good fortune-
“Right, like being blinded and orphaned-”
“Oh, shut the hell up. I’m talking about-”
“Guys, please. If you two keep bickering, Matt’s gonna be late. He’s lucky she’s even going out with him at all. Can we finish this?”
Karen glanced between Matt and Foggy with an arch of her brow, trying to hide the smirk that threatened to capture her lips as Matt’s teasing grin faltered into a purse of his lips from that bruise to his ego.
“Wow. Thank you…for that vote of confidence, Karen.”
“It’s true and you know it. Now, both of you sign these damn papers so we can get out of here before she changes her mind.”
Foggy’s expression suddenly turned serious as he focused his attention solely on Matt, staring at him with an accusatory finger pointed in his direction.
“I swear to God, Murdock. If you fuck up my pipeline to those crack cookies, I will never forgive you. You better turn that Matthew Murdock charm up to a million, you got me? I want those cookies, Matt. Cookies.”
»»——— ———««
It had been five days since Matt had asked you to dinner, and he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you. Between the slew of court cases he was elbow deep in and the extra patrol he’d been doing at the docks to bust a trafficking ring, he hadn’t had a chance to talk to you again. He couldn’t feel your presence when he awoke past his alarm in the mornings, and when he finally got home at the Devil’s hour, he could hear you below him sleeping soundly in your bed.
For the past five nights, the harmony of your heart’s rhythm had eased him into a peaceful sleep like a serene lullaby.
But Karen’s words had anxiety filling every single cell in his body as he navigated the bustling streets of Hell’s Kitchen.
What if you had changed your mind?
It had been five days. Five days without getting to speak to you again. Five days without another care package.
That wasn’t unusual, right?
You didn’t follow a strict schedule with them. The drop offs were usually every few weeks. It just wasn’t time for one.
Or maybe you didn’t want to deliver any more of them.
Maybe the reality of who and what he was sank in and gave you cold feet.
Maybe this was over before it began.
“Fuck.”
Matt felt like he was losing his mind playing the role of the plaintiff and the defendant in the case of had he royally fucked this up already. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been this nervous to go on a date. Maybe it was because you were the first person he was going on a date with as himself. Not one half concealing the other. Not with a pre-spun web of lies to cover his tracks. Not with a rehearsal to remember to play down his abilities.
All his cards were out on the table, and while he felt an absolute rush of liberation that you knew the truth already, the consequences of that truth were daunting and seemed to be lurking around every corner of his mind. By the time he reached his door, his clammy hands kept slipping over his key, and sweat had started to bead uneasily along his hairline.
Should he call this whole thing off?
He really didn’t want to.
Did you want him to call it off?
He prayed you didn’t.
Had you been thinking about him for the past five days too?
He really hoped so.
»»——— ———««
When Matt finally made it to your door, he was nearly out of breath and his cheeks were flushed with heat. He had changed three times because you had, and he didn’t want to be over or underdressed. He focused his senses intently on you, trying to decipher the materials and textures of the outfit you finally settled on. You had music playing as you got ready, and for a few moments Matt just paused and listened to you hum along. You seemed to be in a good mood, and that eased his nerves considerably.
Was it wrong for him to invade on your privacy like that? The angel on his shoulder was already adding it to the laundry list for his confession on Sunday. But the Devil in him argued that he was going to hear you anyway. It wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t help what his senses picked up.
Fifteen minutes before he was supposed to meet you at your door, Matt panicked and realized he hadn’t got you any flowers, and promptly ran down the street in search of a vendor. He spent eight minutes trying to pick some out. He didn’t know what kind of flowers you liked, and roses felt too cliche and insincere. He wanted to pick something special, something that showed he put thought into them, even if he had run to get them right before he was supposed to pick you up.
The vendor had talked him into a bouquet of violet peonies, and since he didn’t have time to spare, he raced back praying that this was the one flower you didn’t hate or God forbid were allergic to.
Matt took a moment to gather himself outside your door; wiping the sweat from his brows with the back of his hand, attempting to steady his rapid breathing, smoothing his windblown hair back into place, and reciting a quiet Lord’s Prayer for good measure.
When his knuckles finally collided with your door to knock, he didn’t know if his heart was racing from the marathon he had just run, or because of you.
The light patter of your feet eagerly approaching the door caused a smile to grace his lips, and once he tuned out the sound of his own heart raging in his ears, he could hear yours fluttering in your chest like a hummingbird.
You were nervous too.
There was a bright smile on your lips, and a light twinge of embarrassment from how quickly you had flung your door open, and you let out a quiet laugh at your own expense.
“Hi Matthew.”
God, he had forgotten how melodic your voice sounded, and how much he suddenly loved his own name hearing it fall from your lips.
“Just Matt, is okay. Only my priest calls me Matthew. And, well…a few judges in the courtroom. And my partners when I cause them undue stress in the workplace. I mean you…you can call me whatever you want, whatever’s more comfortable. It’s just-it’s kinda formal, and you don’t have to-”
“Matt’s nice. I like Matt.”
“Matt likes you.”
Matt internally grimaced as those words slipped past his lips, and the mixture of disapproval and mortification on his face from his own blunder caused a fit of giggles to erupt from your mouth.
“Well, then we’re on the same page. Glad we’ve covered that base for tonight.”
He let out a breathy chuckle as he dipped his head for a moment, trying to find the source of his usual easy charm to refuel his glaring depletion. He cleared his throat as tilted his head to the side slightly, gazing blankly past his crimson glasses in the direction of your face with a somewhat shy smile on his full lips while delicately handing you the bouquet.
“I uh…didn’t know what kind of flowers you liked, but the guy said these were the prettiest ones he had.”
Warmth spread across the tops of your cheeks when your fingers lightly brushed against his to retrieve his thoughtful offering, your lips immediately splitting into a wide grin.
“They’re beautiful. Thank you, Matt. I love peonies. How did you know purple was my favorite color?”
Matt perked up at that, and he stood up a little straighter as a proud, dimple-showcasing, toothy grin took over his mouth.
“Lucky guess.”
“Do you always get so lucky?”
“I guess we’ll find out tonight.”
Matt’s dazzling grin immediately dropped, and you could see his eyes widen behind the cherry tinted lenses. As his face paled and his lips parted in horror, his brows shot up above the frame of his glasses.
“Oh God, I didn’t-that wasn’t…I swear I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not-you’re not-this isn’t…I meant the date. Not that I’m expecting anything-I wouldn’t-I just…meant I hope it goes well. I didn’t-Jesus fucking Christ.”
You were nearly in tears with laughter as Matt stumbled over his words. A part of you felt bad for laughing at the clarity of his humiliation, but it was so endearing knowing he was just as affected by his nerves as you were. This man that went out every night to take down dangerous criminals, and was arguably the most feared man in the city himself, was standing in front of your door stumbling over an apology about an unintended double entendre.
Reaching out to place your hand on his arm, you gave it a reassuring squeeze, momentarily distracted by the dense muscle you felt beneath the soft material of his shirt, before smiling at him in sympathy as you attempted to control your laughter.
“Matt, it’s okay. Really.”
He let out a deep exhale, his tongue darting out to wet his lips quickly as he let out a short and dry chuckle. Matt nodded his head in your direction, a faint curve of self-deprecation on his lips.
“Is this the worst first date you’ve ever been on?”
There was a teasing tone accompanying the timber of his voice, but layered beneath you could detect a chord of genuine curiosity intermingled with trepidation. The smile on your lips only grew as you looked up at him.
“Actually, it’s one of the best.”
Matt was completely in awe of you. There wasn’t a single falter in your heart’s rhythm. He felt his lips easily mirroring the smile that was on yours, reaching his hand out to lightly grasp your elbow as your hand was still comfortably placed on his bicep.
“What would I have to do to make it the best?”
“Hm. What’s for dinner?”
“Italian. That I know you like.”
A soft noise of content hummed from your throat, and the grin that bloomed on your lips triggered his own.
“Yeah, you’re definitely in my top three right now. But, the night is still young.”
Matt couldn’t help but chuckle at the playful invitation that flowed from your voice.
“Top three? I can work with that. I like a challenge.”
»»——— ———««
The restaurant Matt brought you to was a quaint, family owned spot just a few blocks away from your shared apartment building. It’s a place he had passed by on several instances, the aroma of fresh produce and homemade pasta sauce passed down through generations capturing the intrigue of his senses every time he crossed its path, but he had wanted to save it for a special occasion like a celebratory fifty year old bottle of champagne.
And tonight, he was popping the cork on it with you.
The space was incredibly cozy. Tea light candles flickered romantically on every table and cast an amber glow in the somewhat dim lightning. Collections of sepia and noir photos of large families and historic Italian architecture decorated the walls. The imported Sangiovese was rich in tannins and bold in flavor, caressing your tongue like bittersweet velvet. And the loud personality and thick accent of your waiter repeating your orders off in an alluring symphony of Italian made you feel like you and Matt had somehow been transported straight from Hell’s Kitchen to Italy just by passing through the door.
Both of your nerves seemed to evaporate into the breeze flowing through the open windows with every splash of burgundy against your lips and exchange of exquisite flavor from your dishes. Matt asked you questions with childlike excitement, eager to learn more about you, studying you with the exact same enthusiasm he showed important cases that were of the utmost importance to him.
In return, he found himself answering your own inquisitions easily without having to spare the devilish and more complicated details. It was so incredibly emancipating to not have to pretend with you. For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t having to play a character. He could just be…Matt.
You approached every question with genuine curiosity and a respectful distance of where his invisible boundaries might be, and it made his heart soar that you were trying so hard to carefully craft his comfort. Matt had known that he was enthralled with you the first time he met you, but by the time dessert came, he was absolutely smitten.
He didn’t want to get too ahead of himself, but he also didn’t want the night to end.
“Can I walk you home?”
“Hm, I don’t know. You sure it isn’t too out of your way?”
Even if Matt couldn’t feel the way your lips parted into a huge smile, he could hear it in the cadence of your voice. The subtle joke made him chuckle as he nodded his chin in your direction, his own mouth pulling into a charming smirk.
“I’d still offer even if you lived in Long Island.”
The sudden spill of heat across the tops of your cheeks and the quiet sharp intake of your breath had his heart pounding faster in his chest.
“I suddenly wish I did.”
Even though your tone was playful, he could detect the implications behind your words. You didn’t want this night to end either, and that had him soaring up to cloud nine. Feeling emboldened by your indirect confession, Matt reached his hand out slowly to brush his fingertips against the palm of your hand, easily threading his fingers through your own, reveling in the softness of your skin that he had missed. He felt a spark every time your pulse resonated against his own, and his cheeks nearly hurt from how much he was smiling.
“I prefer you living a floor below me.”
By the time the two of you reached your front door, Matt couldn’t tell if it was the electricity from the building buzzing in his ears or the anticipation that kept building the entire walk, growing larger and larger like a snowball ready to plow into his chest to cause an avalanche when you turned your body to face him. As your thumb lightly brushed against the back of his scarred knuckles, a question that had been bouncing around in his head all evening could no longer go unanswered.
“So, as far as first dates go, what’s the verdict? Did I move up at all?”
Matt splayed his most charming smile across his plump lips, and while the flirtation in his voice was evident, so was the unmistakable undertone of uncertainty. The blood rushing through his veins was roaring in his ears like tides crashing against the shore during a storm.
“I’d say you made it to the top two.”
Matt cocked his head to the side slightly, seemingly surprised by your answer, his brows raising above the browline of his glasses slightly.
“Second place?”
“Unless you’ve got a last minute testimony for me to rule in your favor, Counselor.”
Your voice remained soft and teasing, but your heart was fluttering violently in your chest, like the hummingbird was trying to escape its cage. Matt carefully let go of your hand, reaching up to pull his glasses away from his face, baring himself completely before you as he slipped the crimson lenses into his pocket. The slight gasp from seeing his eyes for the first time that caught in your throat caused a bashful smile to appear on his lips.
His tongue darted out to wet them quickly, catching a taste of the tiramisu you shared still lingering on your tongue. He wanted to devour it from your lips. Taking a bold step forward, he did his best to fix his gaze where he thought yours was, leaning in slightly until your noses were merely an inch apart, the warmth of his breath fanning over your lips.
“May I?”
His voice seemed to have dropped an octave lower, coming out in an intimate whisper that you answered all too eagerly.
“Yes.”
Matt couldn’t hold back any longer. He quickly closed the sliver of distance between you, pressing his lips to yours with a satisfied groan, feeling a surge of pride at the way your breath caught in your throat. For a good thirty seconds, you actually stopped breathing. When he reluctantly broke the kiss, he brushed his lips against yours and whispered into them softly.
“Breathe.”
The second the command slipped off his tongue, you exhaled heavily before sucking in a sharp drag of oxygen, and Matt couldn’t stop the smug grin that overtook his entire mouth.
“Well, sweetheart? What’s the verdict now?”
“Yeah…yeah, yeah definitely in the number one spot.”
Matt beamed at the breathlessness of your voice, his arm snaking around your waist to pull you in closer to his chest as he purred into your ear.
“Lucky me.”
tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @desert-fern @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @danzer8705
#matt murdock#matt murdock x you#matt murdock x y/n#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x female reader#matt murdock x fem!reader#matt murdock x f!reader#matt murdock fic#daredevil#daredevil fic
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if the rumors are true and we're losing leon, jamal, phonzie and serge this summer, we are really in the trenches. also I hate barca but I would follow leon anywhere, so what do I doo
There’s something about transfer rumors that brings out the crippling anxiety in all of us, myself included 😂 we’ve been living in the trenches so long we should be paying rent. Hunker down, folks: this summer might be a bumpy ride.
Honestly, who in the Bayern squad hasn’t been the subject of transfer rumors at this point? It feels easier to talk to about whose transfers haven’t been discussed (hi Thomas Müller, Manuel Neuer, and Harry Kane, how are you guys?) 😂 Between talks of Jamal signing for City and the possibility of Phonzie and Serge leaving, it’s hard not to feel overwhelmed. And don’t even get me started on Leon! Catch me, a Madridista, saying “més que un club” through tears and gritted teeth if Leon signs for Barça. I’ll still love and support him, because how can I not, but the conflict of interest will be unreal 💀
The good news is Bayern has no intention of selling Jamal. I’m imagining that Leon feels much the same as he did last summer and will want to stay with us, and I don’t think our sporting director Max Eberl will let him go without a fight. Serge feels comfortable at Bayern as well and wants to stay. It’s also looking like Real Madrid are hoping to sign Phonzie on a free in 2025, so this could mean more time for him to find his footing at Bayern again.
As for what else is in store/truth of these claims in the long run, I have no clue what to believe. Here’s what I do know though: at this point in the year, transfer rumors often hold little real weight. One minute the media is convinced a player’s leaving, the next, they’re certain they’ll stay. Unfortunately for us, this means a few more months in the trenches while we await Bayern’s decisions 😵 at least we’ve got each other’s backs until then <3
#anon 💖#leon goretzka#jamal musiala#alphonso davies#serge gnabry#fc bayern munich#fc bayern#fc bayern münchen#my asks#football asks
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The scene in the kitchen in ‘Afraid’ is cute but also really weird. Almost as weird as the scene in the episode before where they were kissing on the bed and Waverly asks Nicole if she can tell her about her year and a half and then suddenly there’s a loud bang and she gets all anxious and distracted because she thinks it’s a monster that’s got into the Homestead and Waverly has to remind her that it’s just Wynonna. But at least you can tell what’s going on in that scene.
In the scene where they’re under sheets after having sex on the kitchen floor Waverly suggests that they should talk about the proposal after Nicole completely rebuffs her compliments to her about making a presentation on how amazing she is, and it makes Nicole completely stop in her tracks. In the awkward silence Waverly tries to explain that even though the world was ending, she meant every word she said to her in proposing to her and then Nicole abruptly goes in for a kiss while she’s mid-sentence. Now that could be interpreted as she’s so overwhelmed by Waverly’s earnest words that she immediately wants to kiss her.
Or… it could be interpreted as Nicole does it because she wants to shut her up from talking about anything that might reveal what she did while Waverly was in the Garden. What she did to get her, Wynonna and Doc out of the Garden. She wants to hide the truth from her because she’s scared that she won’t feel the same about marrying her if she knew it. It’s a little toxic but it’s not out of character for her given she did the same with hiding Waverly’s DNA test so she wouldn’t know the truth about her true heritage and nature. So Nicole wants to avoid talking about the engagement because she doesn’t want that exposed.
It’s really freaking sad to be honest that Nicole feels that she has to manipulate and deceive Waverly because she no longer has any confidence in herself. It’s reminding me very much of Willow Rosenberg and the way she is with her lovers when she gets insecure. Instead of communicating and working through her emotions and what’s bothering her, she’ll avoid them or do something to escape from having to feel them.
Nicole doesn’t have anywhere near the arc Willow does when it comes to this but it’s just similar behaviour I’m picking up on every now and again. There’s a common theme. It’s the intense fear of loss even when all seems fine and your love is safe again so you still act as if you’re losing or about to lose them because you can’t be sure that they’re ever really safe.
It’s that trauma of the last 18 months, 4 weeks and 3 days that Nicole is stuck in. Paralyzed inside of it. Even though she has Waverly and her family back she’s still mentally paralyzed by the fear that they won’t remain with her. That she’ll lose them again. And it’s just so fucking upsetting to watch her like that even in moments that should make her feel happy.
It is depression that’s eating at Nicole this season. It’s just a form of depression not usually talked about and therefore not easily recognized by those who haven’t gone through it themselves. Most people think that when you’re depressed, you feel empty inside. Can’t feel anything at all. When that’s not necessarily true all the time. You do feel something, it’s just those feelings don’t manifest from or because of the present moment. They’re always feelings provoked from the past. A memory. A nightmare. Some type of trauma. So they’re often negative feelings like fear, grief and distress. And they’re often ones you’ve experienced from before when it was actually the present moment.
Being paralyzed in the past is a form of depression. Being ridden with anxiety is part of a depression.
That’s Nicole’s arc in Season 4. She’s paralyzed in a place and time that no longer exists in present being. I feel really sorry for her but at the same time - what she did in trading Doc for Waverly to the Clantons really was awful and so I say it’s karma that she was made to start barfing up those frogs and possessed to attack her loved ones. Love causes you to do the crazy but it should never be at the expense of someone else. Perhaps she felt it was Doc’s retribution for biting humans. That it wouldn’t be a big loss to them all. That he was too dangerous to keep around. Whatever the reason as to why she promised to sell Doc out, it was only fair that bad shit would turn around on her.
But I think at the end of the day the worse guilt eating away at her was that she wasn’t Waverly’s saviour. Therefore she didn’t feel worthy of being married to her. Which is likely also why she was not being upfront about what she did to get her out of the Garden.
Nicole really does have quite the arc in Season 4 with all this going on and I really love it. But what I love about it most of all is that it wraps tightly around WayHaught’s love story of commitment of marriage and also other commitments alongside marriage. Nicole makes the greatest worst mistake she possibly could because she wanted Waverly out of the Garden. And in a way, she redeems herself by sacrificing her own life instead of anyone else’s to have her Waverly which is much more characteristic of Nicole Haught.
#wynonna earp#afraid#nicole haught#katherine barrell#season 4#nicole’s arc#paralyzation#trauma#depression#anxiety#fear#grief#loss#distress#PTSD#characterization#character representation#character development#wlw representation
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Come Home Baby (part 3)
Jake Seresin x Reader
Part 3!!! Read part two here! Or part one here!
Ok so, this might be the final chapter I’m not really sure. If I did anymore the rest would be world building and fluff and smut with them tbh! Lmk.
Song for the chapter!! i saw you in a dream by The Japanese House
Warnings: none? I don’t even consider this angst. A couple working out their problems 🗣️
Words: 1k
——————
I never tend to belief in fate. As an existentialist most my life I believed in only the awful flip sides. I saw myself as a failure and any situation I got myself in was “just my luck.” So the situation I just landed into doesn’t really seem like fate. Of course out of all the times I was to run into Jake I wouldn’t be ready. I haven’t really thought about what to say or how to say it or when to say it. All I know is that it definitely wasn’t now.
But somehow right now I feel more at peace than I have in these past two days. I see what looks like him through a window of this bar and I can’t help but feel like everything will be fine.
Allie taps me on my shoulder, startling me from my thoughts. “Becca? Are you good, we can always go somewhere else?” I sigh feeling a little bit of anxiety bubble within me.
“I’ll be fine Allie, maybe this will be a moment where we can talk.” I unbuckle my seat belt and check my appearance in the rear view mirror.
I get out of the car and try to shake away the growing anxiety. “What is this bar called,” I ask Allie. “Oh this old place? The hard deck. Yeah I know, so clever,” Allie says with a eye roll. Causing laughter to roll out of me. We open the doors with a signature bell jingle to let everyone know our presence. The place isn’t too busy as I scan the around the space. It’s so quaint and cozy I almost forgot what I’m here for: Jake.
We lock eyes across the bar. My heart skips a beat. Tears well up in my eyes and I can’t help but softly smile at him. His scared eyes soften and he smiles so brightly it could light up all of San Diego. He takes a step to me and I do the same. We move like birds gently but swiftly. We land in each others arms.
I sob into his shoulder holding onto him so tight. He leans down and whispers, “I’m so sorry, Becca. I’m so sorry.” I nudge my head into the crevice of his neck and gently say, “I forgive you.” I pull out of his embrace and grab his hand. “We should probably talk outside.” He nods and lets me guide him to the deck outside. I push him down to sit next to me. As my legs hang over the deck I cross them and tuck my hands under my butt.
“Sooooo,” I say. Scared of what comes next. Jake is next to speak. He hooks his finger under my chin and has me look him in the eyes.
“Becca…” he says, “I never meant to hurt you like I did.”
“But you did,” I exclaim. “I want to hear you out. I want everything to get better. But you hurt me. You really hurt me.”
Jake goes to speak but I continue. “There was no reason. No explanation. Why? Do all good things have to come to an end?”
“Baby no,” Jake says shaking his head vigorously.
“I can’t tell you what’s about to happen or why exactly I’m here. But I will say I broke up with you because…” Jake starts tearing up. His chest moves so fast. I reach out to grab his face. “It’s okay, my love. Whenever you’re ready.” Jake lets out a shakey breath and continues.
“I’m being deployed in less than a month. And they say there’s a 50% chance that one or more of us will end up dead.”
“I don’t want you to lose me like that. I wanted you to hate me and never think about me again,” he says as he hangs his head low.
Relief flows through my body. I start laughing. Jake’s head snaps up. He looks at me, puzzled. I jump onto him and wrap my arms around his neck. “Jake, I thought that you hated me. I wracked my head through so many memories trying to find what I did wrong. But this whole time you were trying to protect me?” He sheepishly nods his head. I squeeze him tighter.
“Jake I always promised to stick by your side. We’re not married but till death do us part.”
“So are you mad at me,” Jake ponders.
“Mad, no. I’m beyond pissed off and extremely hurt. If you still want me you’re going to have to work for this Jake.”
“But what if-“
“There’s no what ifs Jake. You’ll live and someday we’ll -“
“We’ll what?!”
“We’ll get married”
“Really?!” He asks.
“Yes, but only if you-“
“Work for it. Got it. I love you so much Becca “
“I love you too, Jakey.” I lean back to look into his eyes. Jake reaches up and grabs both sides of my face. I smile and run my fingers on the nape of his neck. And who was I to think I wasn’t ready for this. To be with him in his arms. We lean in at the same time. With smiles on our faces. We kiss. Life is good.
Inside the bar Allie sits with her husband they lounge with Bradley and the rest of the crew as they await the couple outside. Bradley is the first to speak up.
“Are they always like this?”
Allie lets out a hearty laugh and burrows into her life partner. He tightens his grip on her before he takes a swig of his beer.
“Yes but no. They can explain everything later.” The group nods their heads and hum in agreement. Most out of the group cast their stares outside to the lovelorn couple. The couple’s lips are locked and happiness seems to fill in and blanket everyone at the hard deck.
“Maybe Jake won’t be such a hard ass,” Phoenix pipes up.
“Doubt it,” Bob says as he’s in the process of munching on his boiled peanuts. Eliciting laughter from the group.
#hangman fanfiction#jake seresin x reader#top gun au#top gun hangman#top gun maverick#hangman seresin x reader#jake seresin#jake hangman x reader#jake hangman seresin
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Twitter
Yes, I paid this hellsite (Tumblr) $8 as a joke to acquire two meaningless blue check marks that are apparently only visible on the Tumblr website, but not the app... anyway... I laughed and appreciated Tumblr’s humorous poke at Twitter’s troubles, so here is $8, thank you, Tumblr.
All jokes aside... if you didn’t know Twitter was a hell hole since a long time ago NOWWWW we are seeing in real-time the depths of struggle over there.
My bird app timeline is in shambles. Trending is broken. Paid blue check marks have been taken away? Restored? Discarded again? Whew the whiplash.
News of Twitter staff/executives getting laid off/fired/resigning in the thousands... what a rough time.
BTS Twitter users are panicking trying to decide where to go if Twitter disappears. They are afraid of losing all their ARMY friends. The anxiety is real. I don’t blame them.
What are their choices? Instagram: primarily for images, not so much for words but I think the algorithm is wrong... Facebook: (puh-leez) is the closest thing but for real? nah... Reddit: very wordy, but hard to follow format that is nothing like Twitter... Youtube: duh, made for video not words... Tumblr: definitely made for words but not really made for back and forth banter even though we make it work...
The Twitter environment, though very dynamic, is inherently very fleeting. It is excellent for “in the moment” moments.
I use Twitter to stay informed. But without the aid of a curated timeline and trending topics, it’s not a very good fandom experience at all. It takes some strong curating/blocking accounts/muting words and topics to wade through the shit. And it takes diligence because if you are like me and you are clicky, you click on shit and then the bullshit starts creeping back onto your timeline.
Compromises were made but I have cleared out 613 tons of toxicity and Twitter has been very useful and mostly enjoyable for the last six months. Until now. There is a lot of upheaval. The security of our privacy info is in question.
And even more seriously is the ripple effect. Wall Street Journal reports that the paid for Twitter verified blue check mark has indeed been halted due to accounts impersonating corporations and celebrities. Word is going around that pharmaceutical companies have lost billions in stock market value because imposter accounts are making false statements.
Major takeaways from this is that nothing is permanent. Even $44 billion investments. And Twitter, social media in general, yields a lot of influence in the world whether we like it or not.
I would never pay Twitter for a blue check mark. I talk too much to use Twitter effectively. So I am staying here. With my check marks that mean nothing except that I appreciate when someone seizes the opportunity to take a jab at someone else who is too big for their britches (and who apparently does not have the ability to think through their actions).
Welcome to those of you defecting from Twitter to Tumblr. We might not be light on our feet over here but at least we can write as many words as we want at one time, emphasized with a lot of images, and these posts are easily accessible.
#twitter vs tumblr#those stupid blue check marks were their downfall#who da thunk?#oh i forgot to mention our hashtags are more fun
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I think they’re all leaving soon.
I hate this with every fiber of my being, but it’s their duty and they seem content with doing it. I’ll miss them, of course, but 18 months isn’t forever, and the sooner they go in, the sooner they’re out.
I’m worried and scared, because I selfishly don’t want to lose them, and I’m afraid that when they come out, they won’t be the same people who went in. I’m scared that they might not want to go back to making music as BTS. They keep saying they will, though, and they’ve asked us to trust them, and I’m trying to do so. My own anxieties and abandonment issues are playing up and being projected onto the situation, I know, which makes it stupid beyond words.
Let’s keep loving the boys while they serve. Let’s organize charity actions in their names, let’s stream BTS songs to the top of the charts to keep their name current and to annoy the rest of k-pop. Let’s stream and support all the solo work, enjoy the huge body of content we already have, and know that they’ve all probably done these video greetings that Jin recorded.
They’re going to be busy for a while. It’s okay. They’re not dying, they’re not dropping off the face of the earth. They’re serving their country and having experiences that will help them grow as men. This will be good for them. Also, there will be moments when they can use their phones, when they’ll have time off, and they might be able to occasionally send greetings or, as Joon said today, “proof of life.”
I know this is my own issue, and something I have to deal with. I’m just someone who never had anyone who ever really loved me, and with BTS, I thought that I’d found someone who did, even though they don’t really know I even exist. They’ve still done more to care about me as a person than 99.9% of the people I’ve ever known, and now that they’re going, it’s like the rug is being pulled out from under me. I’m afraid of falling into the dark again.
So please, if anyone is reading this, please forgive me for my fears and insecurities. Please forgive me for any doomsday posts I may end up making. I know that I’m being selfish, and that I’ve leaned too much on BTS. I guess this will be a chance for me to finally learn how to stand on my own without anyone supporting me. Maybe this time when they’re inaccessible and going through God knows what will be a time where I can grow as I go through God knows what as well.
I love BTS. I love all seven of the guys. I want them all to be happy and healthy and safe. I hope this time is good for them, that they have a good experience in the military, and that all my darkest fears turn out to be nothing. I’ll do what I can while they’re away: stream, listen to their music, watch their videos, love them from a distance (which is what I’m doing anyway, it’s not like anything is changing there).
I’m rambling. I don’t know if I’m even going to post this. I suppose I just needed to get some things said, and there’s nobody else I can talk to about this.
If anyone is reading this, please don’t slam me for being self-absorbed and selfish. I know I am. I know that. I’m just grappling with a long, ugly personal history that makes this hit harder than it should.
I love BTS. And 2025 can’t come soon enough.
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Hello all my followers! I have an update
Been a while since I posted on here 😅
But, I just wanted to tell all of you that I might not be posting on Tumblr anymore, or at least not has much.
I’ve been going through some anxiety and self doubt issues with my art lately. Or even for many months. Which I’ve stopped posting for my mental health. That’s why you guys haven’t really seen many art posts from me.
I just felt like I was in some kind of art block. Where all I drew was Cars and Finland art, which I still do like to draw, but I just felt like it was kinda stopping me from making original pieces I actually wanted to do. Adding to the fact was going interest into different fandoms, and kinda losing interest in the Cars fandom.
So, I took a break from posting in order to try and experiment many things without the pressure of people liking or hating it. But, I now feel like I’m at a right place of mind to start posting original pieces. However, I want to start doing it on a different platform due to this account mostly being covered of Finland stuff I kinda want to move away from.
So, I’m now moving onto Instagram. I might not be posting so often, as I’m still trying to get some confidences to post again because I do want many people to see my art. You guys have no idea how much you make me smile with your reblogs, likes, and comments that I can’t even put into words. Having many of you loving art pieces I didn’t even personally like lol. So, it mean so much to me for many people to see my other art too.
So, for any of you who are interested, my Instagram is @kenzie_the_drawer, with all the spaces and it’s a public account.
Again, thank you all for always supporting me and loving all the art I do. You guys give me so much confidence I wish I can give to myself lol. But, I’m now moving on to another path in hopes for a good future for me.
Thanks again. I’ll love you all ❤️
P.S. Don’t worry, I’ll still have tumblr to look around. But, I just won’t be posting anymore. So, you’re still free to message me and comment on my stuff if you want. Yeah, kinda got a little depressing at the end lol
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The past few months have felt like I’m drowning. My workload is so much and there’s so many things I haven’t done but that’s not what’s drowning me oddly enough. I feel like I’m drowning in the thoughts of the life I might end up with, the life I could have, the life I could’ve ended up with, and the life I want all at the same time.
Yes, drowning is the right word. My hand reaches up to grab something, anything, a rope, a board, a hand, just to get a hold on something that will pull me out of the water that’s blurring my vision and constricting my chest and filling my lungs and weighing down my every movement. Drowning is a word people use often to describe these feelings but for the first time I feel like I truly understand what it means.
Drowning is the right word
There is a small, but not insignificant, part of me that is dark and twisted and manipulative and all the things I swore I won’t be and it pushes me to be kinder for all the wrong reasons.
I am still kind. I mean well. I want my enemy to eat even if not at my table. I want to see my family prosper even if they cast me out one day. I want them all to be happy.
But somewhere inside, one of the reasons I do it is because I want it to hurt.
If I am to one day be gone from their lives I want it to hurt them. I want my laughter to echo in their ears knowing they cast me out. I want my former homes to be so full of my essence, so infused with me that no corner would exist where they could see and not see the person they got rid of. I want my sister to look at the penguin plushie I gave her and wish she’d done different. I want my mother to go in the kitchen and know she’ll never see me excitedly try a new recipe to show her. I want my father to look at the shelves and remember how delightedly I’d tell him about each new book I’d bought, each new thing I’d studied in school.
I want them all to live with the fact that they’d never see me laugh or smile or pronounce things wrong or make the face I always make when I want to ask for something or have long conversations stretching hours into the night, sat upside down on sofas or laid up in bed with blankets in lamp light or leaning against the kitchen counters, ever again.
I think one day I will tell my family who I am and they will get rid of me and I want it to hurt. I want them to never forget who I was to them and who the child they’d loved would never be to them again. I want the kindness and understanding and generosity I am so known for to become a gaping wound in their chests when I’m gone so that not a single day could pass where they are not reminded that that is the person they got rid of for something so simple as a difference in faith, for a difference in love.
I hate this side of me. She wants to protect me from the hurt that will come from being cast away, I think. I do not think she can. I think she hopes that I will accept my fate and move on before it happens so that I don’t need to feel it when it does. She’ll take my pain and turn it into rage for me to propel me further. She holds my hands so, so gently in hers to take the pain away and I don’t want her to touch me.
I hate that she exists. I hope she knows what she’s doing.
I wonder sometimes if all this fear and distrust and anxiety is for nothing. What if everything works out? What if I come out to my parents, about my sexuality and my religion or lack thereof and they accept me? What if I’ve spent so long preparing myself for the worst that when the best happens it will devastate me more? When I’ve spent so many years building this preparatory rage and indifference and now it was all for nothing? What if I’m putting myself through the grief of loss when there was nothing to lose?
This is what I fear more, I think. That it was truly all in my head, that I’d misconstrued everything I’d ever thought was true and that my family is good, and the only evil is me, preparing myself the victim when there’s no crime perpetrated.
I think back to my older sister. She’s been my idol since I was a child. I’ve never not looked up to her. To her strength and drive and resilience and patience. I tell her I fear that one day I’ll lose her. That she’ll get tired of keeping my secret and that she’ll tell our parents in a misguided attempt to help me. She does not tell me she hopes that day never comes, cannot promise me it never will. She apologises in advance for when it happens. We both know it will. This conversation has looped in my head, made itself the star of my every waking nightmare since it’s happened. Not one night passes where I do not picture the scene play out in front of my eyes. A thousand times the scene plays, with a thousand different variables. There is only one ending to the story. There is no other version of this story.
It is hard to think now. I kick my legs. I try to stay above the water. My head goes under and comes up repeatedly. I see the sky before I’m submerged and the dark water before I come up again. My legs grow weaker. My breaths, shallower. I try to keep my hands out, hoping that they’ll grab onto something, anything, to give me a moments respite and expel the water that’s slowly entering my lungs. There is not enough of me left to find a new solution. I’m not sure how long I can keep it going. I can only do it until I can’t. Either I will escape or I will drown. Till then I can only keep going.
#rem rambles#life stuff#rems 3am nonsense#Ramadan has me feeling some type of way#hell is empty and all the devils are here type beat#this was nice to get off my chest#vent post#long post#can you tell I have abandonment issues#except I haven’t been abandoned yet I’m just very sure I will be#ramadan
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a/n: welcome back to the beach! we get to see a look into reader’s point of view after everything happened. i hope you all enjoy! feedback is appreciated <3
pairings: obito uchiha x fem!reader
warnings: modern au, heavy angst, mentions of anxiety, not a happy chapter.
The Beach: Chapter Twenty-Two
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist
Obito: i’m sorry, but never contact me again. i mean that.
The message notification appearing at the top of your screen made your heart drop. You could feel nausea curling in your stomach, and your breathing becoming more erratic.
Your thumb shakily pressed on the text message. Your eyes scanned over the blue text bubble several times before it registered into your brain what Obito was saying. None of it felt real at that moment. Obito had read your messages about five minutes prior before sending his response. He saw everything you had sent, but he said absolutely nothing. He only decided to send you a message, telling you to never speak to him again.
Your brain began to panic. You started to search for the reasoning for his sudden change of heart. Was it because you cuddled with him and got too close? Did you cross the line this time? Was he secretly having issues with you, and what you did just an hour prior made him reach his limit?
If you were being completely real, you didn’t know what to feel. It felt as if your mind had turned a switch off, and you were completely numb to the situation.
Just like your emotions, you couldn’t think of a reply to him.
Were you supposed to just respond “okay,” and move on from him? Was he expecting you to fight for whatever you guys had? You were unsure, and you wished you could make up your mind as to what you wanted to do.
Swallowing thickly, you picked option two and started to type a message to Obito. It took you forever to find the right words. You didn’t want to lose him. You and Obito had created so many memories over the past few months, and you still didn’t know what you did wrong to drive him out of your life. No, you couldn’t let this go. You wanted him to stay.
You sent the first text.
Then another.
And another.
You: what?? obito, please, don’t go. what happened? did i do something wrong?
You: please answer me.
You: i’m sorry. please obito just tell me what i did wrong.
Your mouth went completely dry, and your stomach dropped to the floor when you saw your blue messages turn a bright shade of green. A red circle with a red exclamation point sat beside the three messages you sent.
Obito had blocked you.
Panic set through you when this realization was processed in your brain. There was no way he actually blocked you. Obito never went to those kinds of lengths when it came to people, so why did he do it to you? God, what the fuck was going on?! Your brain wasn’t thinking properly, and you were trying to search for the right answer.
With shaky thumbs, you left the messages app and went to your social media. If he blocked you through your phone number, he might have forgotten about your Instagram or your Snapchat.
“C’mon.. please..” you sniffed as you clicked your follower option. As soon as it loaded, you typed in his name as fast as you could. You were picking your fingernails so hard you didn’t even realize that one of them was now broken, but you could care less.
Your mouth fell slightly open when the results came back with nothing. He blocked you on Instagram too, so there was no way you’d be able to access his account. You couldn’t even search his username.
Leaving Instagram, you went to Snapchat. The yellow screen lighting up your vision. This was the only other shot you had. If he blocked you here, you wouldn’t be able to contact him again. Obito had no other social media besides those two that you knew of, and you weren’t about to go see him in person.
You swiped to the left to see your recent snaps and chats. The heavy ache inside your chest grew deeper when your eyes landed on the grey opened mark underneath his username.
Your hand felt heavy with your phone sitting between your fingers. It almost involuntarily dropped onto your bed sheets from the weight. You couldn’t focus, your brain was scrambled and all you could do was stare into the hardwood floor of your bedroom. You couldn’t hear anything, it was almost like you were sitting in utter silence. You tuned everything out of your head.
Obito managed to get rid of you in every way possible. He wanted absolutely nothing to do with you anymore, and he made sure you wouldn’t find a way to get back to him. That was it, you two were both done, and there was no way you’d ever speak to him again.
He was gone, no longer in your life. A person you can now say you knew.
It wasn’t the fact that he blocked you that hurt you. It was the fact that he walked out of your life, and you caused it. You forced him to leave because of your idiotic decision. You got too close, you crossed the boundaries, and he was uncomfortable. The guilt hung over you like a ghost watching your every move. How could you be so naive? He left your apartment so quickly after you spoke to him. You should have taken the hint, but you didn’t.
Obito left you, and there was nothing you could do about it.
Most of all, Obito left you with the memories you both shared together. Every moment of happiness you experienced with one another was now tarnished and turned to nothing. It didn’t mean a single thing now.
You didn’t even notice the tears flowing down your cheeks until one of the droplets landed on your knee. You tried to hold them in, but the more you inhaled, the more of them formed. It was beginning to get harder to breathe, and your chest started to heave with this weight you couldn’t shake.
Placing your head in your hands, you started to sob uncontrollably. Your body started shaking, and there was a slight ringing in your ears. You kept seeing the text messages inside of your head, and all of the memories you spent with Obito. It felt like your brain was shoving it into your head to make you suffer. You couldn’t escape no matter how hard you tried to run away.
Tears burned your vision once again. They coated your cheeks like pavement during a rainstorm. They trailed down your neck towards the collar of your top. They seemed unstoppable, and you weren’t sure if they’d ever halt.
You lifted your head, choosing to lay down on your bed. You didn’t want your tears to drip onto your sheets, and you wanted to face away just in case Konan walked in on you. If she did, you’d have to tell her, and you weren’t ready for that conversation yet. How could you tell your best friend that your friends with benefits left you?
It was funny, you spent so much time telling yourself that this agreement would end one day, and, if it did, you would be fine. You always said you weren’t that attached to Obito, and he was only your fuck buddy.
Here you were, sobbing in your room because he left you. It was ironic, and you felt so fucking stupid.
Turning your body towards the wall, you hugged your blanket tightly. Part of you wished it was Obito. He’d be holding you with strong arms, and he would remind you how beautiful you were. He would make you feel safe and secure, and you’d fall asleep in his embrace. Unfortunately, for you, he wasn’t there, and all you had was the fabric of your blanket.
Your eyes shut, a few tears slipping through them and sliding onto your pillow. You could feel yourself slowly calming down and relaxing. Your body felt exhausted, and you could feel yourself slipping into sleep.
-
A blaring noise jolted you out of sleep, causing your heart to jump out of your chest and your eyes to pop open.
It took you a few seconds to adjust to the situation, but you realized that the noise you were hearing was the sound of your alarm going off beside your bed. You were slightly confused that it was already Monday again, because it still felt like it was the weekend.
Another problem you had was the splitting headache you had. Your brain felt like somebody was taking a hammer and bashing it in. Were you hungover or something? It surely felt like it, and you had no idea why.
You also vaguely recalled a weird dream you had the previous night.
Sitting up in your bed, you slammed your fingertips onto the phone screen to pause your alarm. It was honestly getting annoying, and it was making your headache worse than it actually was. You could barely remember yesterday, and you were confused as to why. Though, Konan probably knew what happened.
You reached over to grab your phone. You couldn’t remember your dream until you pressed the messages app on your phone.
Obito.
The messages you tried to send were still green, so the “dream” you had was in fact real. He was still gone from your life, and he had you blocked on everything.
Denial was a beautiful thing.
Your body felt like it weighed more than it did. It seemed like you were being held down by cement, and you struggled to get yourself out of your bed. Everything from last night hit you like a ton of bricks, and you understood why you had such a huge headache. Your mouth was also extremely dry and it felt like sandpaper.
You also realized you had classes to attend that day. That meant you had to go on campus, and gain the motivation to see other people. If you were being honest, you had no intention of doing any of those things.
You weren’t feeling well, you felt sick.
Your eyes snapped to your bedroom door when you heard a sudden knock coming from it. It must have been Konan. She usually came to wake you up when you shut off your alarm, because you had a habit of going back to sleep.
Fuck, what were you going to do?
If you were being real with yourself, you wanted to tell Konan everything that happened the previous night. You were also feeling that urge to explode into tears again, but you didn’t want to worry her about anything. She had her own life too, and being a burden to her wasn’t in your plans for today. Not to mention, you weren’t exactly in the best state of mind to even talk about the situation. It’d make you feel worse than you already did.
Taking a deep breath, you prepared yourself to answer her. “I’m up!” you called, shifting around on your sheets. You wanted to look as normal as possible.
The door suddenly opened, Konan poked her head in to look at you. A bright smile flashed on her features once she saw you. “Hi! How’d you sleep?” she stepped into your bedroom, walking towards your bed so she was now standing in front of you.
You had so much envy for her cheery mood. You wished you could feel as good as her, but the storm clouds inside your brain weren’t going to disappear.
“I slept well.. um, what about you?“ you looked up at her with a fake smile.
She looked at your face for a few moments before responding to you. “I slept okay, but I assumed you slept great! You got a lot of sleep last night,” she twirled a piece of her violet-colored hair between her fingers.
Your eyebrows furrowed instantly, you swore you went to sleep at a decent time yesterday. After all, you did pass out from your huge breakdown, but you were certain that it was already late evening when that happened. It made you confused, and you wondered how long you were out for.
Clearing your throat, you nodded your head. “Um, what? I don’t remember going to sleep early yesterday, unless I did and I just don’t recall it,” you crossed your legs on your bed.
Konan cocked her head to the side. “What do you mean? I called you at around seven and you didn’t pick up, and when I got home you were passed out in your bed,” she replied, “It surprised me because you’re usually up when I come home from work,”
A feeling of surprise rushed over your body. You practically slept the whole night, and you didn’t get up once. Konan was right, that was very out of the ordinary for you. You weren’t the type to take naps, and you weren’t sure how you did it for that long.
You laughed, trying to make everything less awkward. “Oh, wow, I didn’t even notice. I guess I was just really tired,” you scratched the back of your head, “But, um, Konan, I don’t think I’m going to go to school today,”
Her facial expression changed to a concerned one. She sat down beside you on your bed, looking over at you as if she was studying you. “(Y/N), you never miss your classes! Is everything alright?” she had a worried tone in her voice.
You put your hands up defensively. “Y-Yeah! I’m just.. sick, okay? I don’t feel that well, and I need a day,” you said, “Okay? Trust me,”
It looked like she was going to say something else, but she closed her mouth instead. You prayed she wouldn’t ask anymore questions, because if she did, you’d probably turn into a mess like the night before. You didn’t want to feel those things again, and you didn’t want to worry her.
Konan stood up, heading in the direction of your bedroom door. “Okay, well, I hope you feel better, babe! I have to head out for my next class, but take care of yourself,” she looked back at you with a smile.
You waved at her, “Yep! I’ll text you!”
She waved back before stepping out into the hallway, and shutting your bedroom door. Konan then went to the kitchen to grab her things, but as she walked, she couldn’t help but start to think about some things.
What was going on with you?
She didn’t want to pry you with any other questions, but she knew something wasn’t okay and her gut was telling her she might be right.
#summer speaks#the beach#naruto x reader#naruto x you#naruto x y/n#naruto fanfiction#naruto angst#obito uchiha#obito uchiha x reader#obito x y/n#obito x you#obito x reader#anime fanfic#naruto#anime
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Hi! Is it okay if I can request a positivity post for people who struggle with ptsd? ;-; I keep having flashbacks and I am constantly dealing with multiple triggers 24/7 for the last few months now and I’m so scared that I’ll never get better. I only get a few hours of sleep every night because I’m so anxious and on “high alert” all the time, I’m jolting awake gasping and then I can’t fall back asleep. I’m shaking everyday because my brain is always like “look out for the danger!” And I’m unfortunately in a position where I am unable to avoid my multiple triggers (certain clothes, certain colors), and the person who gave me this ptsd is someone I accidentally see online at least once a week, even though I’ve blocked them, they are a very popular fandom blog and they frequently buy commissions of themself… like maybe 15 to 20 commissions per month from all different kinds of artists. So I’m always seeing my abuser’s commissions, visual images of them floating around everywhere I go :( I tried taking time off of tumblr for 8 months, but my ptsd didn’t improve, I just felt lonely and I really missed uploading my own artwork ;-; but now I’ve stopped drawing entirely because I don’t find joy in drawing anymore.
I am surrounded by these reminders of what happened to me, and my only hope is to someday reclaim the triggers and to see them as normal things again, but I don’t know if that’s possible when I feel so incredibly broken and I see my abuser so often. I’ve never had to deal with this kind of thing before. I wish someone would sit with me and tell me everything will be okay, even if it might not be true. I went through all of it completely alone for a full year, and now I feel so numb to anything around me. Going to movies, restaurants, concerts, all of it feels so empty to me. I’m sorry for the vent, you don’t have to reply to this if you don’t want to ;-;
hi there, sweetheart !! first off, i'm so sorry that you're struggling so hard right now, and that you can't seem to escape anything that's making life so much harder. i have never personally dealt with ptsd in that sense, but i do have an ample amount of trauma, and you have my every sympathy.
i'm going to split your ask up into a few parts, if that's okay. i completely understand the fear of never getting better. dealing with so much mental anguish for so long is a trauma in of itself, and i'm so sorry. please know that there is a "better" for everyone. everyone's looks different, and comparing yourself to others who recovered quicker, or more easily won't help - because your situations are always going to be different. but there /is/ a better for you, and anybody else reading this. it'll take time, and will happen slowly, but you'll get there.
i also really struggle with sleep, because of intense anxiety / nightmares. there are a number of OTC medications that you can try, have you? i know it sounds silly, if you're struggling so much, but sometimes simple answers help the most. i'm not sure where you are, but if you're in europe, you can order melatonin from the us, and of course in the us it is OTC. there's also a number of medicated syrups (nytol / night nurse / etc). melatonin can occasionally create nightmares, so please be sure to start on a tiny dose. if you have already tried these, speaking to a doctor may really help. i completely understand not wanting to bring up your ptsd, but there are ways to build up to it - including merely mentioning sleep issues first, and building a rapport with the doctor over a few weeks / months. sleep is so key, and getting something that helps you get rest will be instrumental !!
i'm so sorry your abuser is so popular. that's such a uniquely awful pain that i cannot even begin to imagine. is it possible for you to blog them, and the people creating art of them? it'd probably take a while, and be a bit taxing at first, but eventually you may see that your dash has less and less of them.
i understand losing joy in the things that you love. it'll take a while to find the joy again, but this is something i have also experienced, and things will make you happy again. i don't feel equipped to advise on managing triggers surrounding things you love. but it may be worth trying to sketch something small and unrelated to fandom. is there a pretty tree you can see from your window? a cool house down the street? a cat lounging around? perhaps taking art away from the online space and the person who hurt you may make it feel more "yours" again.
i'm so sorry that you've been going at this alone. no one ever deserves that. i don't know you, but i'm sitting with you right now, telling you it's going to be okay. there is more to life than this pain you're feeling right now, and there always will be. you will find joy in the things you loved again. you will be able to exist without reminders from your abuser, or if they happen, you will be equipped to deal with that. you will build a network of people to lean on, and that love you, and will be there for you. you deserve more than the hand you were dealt, and i hope you get that someday. emotional numbness is perhaps one of the most taxing things to deal with, but please know that this grey won't last forever. colour will bloom into your life again. there is more than this, and you deserve more than this. i am here with you, and you'll get through this.
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mutual aid request for nonbinary, queer couple
I hate to talk about myself with what’s going on in the world and to ask for help but times are tough and if I want to help the world one day like I plan to I have to survive to be able to do so.
the last year and a half has been really hard. My health has taken a turn for the worse and as such I have tried and failed to keep multiple jobs.
I have a spine injury and suffer from chronic pain, and I also have chronic fatigue as a result of chronic stress reactivating the Epstein-Barr virus in my body many times in my life. I also suffer from pre menstrual dysphoric disorder, and a host of mental health conditions including PTSD, insomnia, anxiety, and depression. Other people I suspect that I am likely neurodivergent as well.
I have multiple university degrees but I am currently too sick to work. I had a good job working at an academy but was railroaded and fired for my mental health at a time when my employers knew I wouldn’t be able to fight for my rights. I worked a job I loved at a forest school, but was being evicted whilst working there, and was let go for how my mental health whilst fighting eviction was coming out at work. I also fell at work at the forest school and fractured multiple ribs and my sternum, which are still healing. After losing that job, I attempted to get a job outside of my field and fell on the way to work, injuring my tailbone and causing flare ups with my pre existing spine injury.
I dealt with eviction for months and got through it by the skin of my teeth because the property I was living in changed agencies, with the letting agency forcing my partner and I to share one bedroom because they deemed us not worthy of our own spaces because we did not know any homeowners who could have co signed our rental agreement. They have squeezed four people into a two bedroom flat, but nowhere else would take us because my previous letting agency my reputation was being affected by the eviction process, because of discrimination based on earnings, and because the agency previously managing the property I live in has stolen between £700 and £800 from me and left me in financial ruin.
I have been deemed by the government as too sick to work and not needing to look for work, but cannot survive on the benefits I am receiving, and am repeatedly being denied financial aid by the government for being too sick to work. Before Christmas, I had my final appeal for my Personal Independence Payment and was again denied. My partner is autistic, and suffers from a host of mental illnesses including PTSD, anxiety, depression, and anorexia. They are also deemed as too sick to work at present by the government.
We are both nonbinary, queer people who are struggling a lot in our current circumstances.
I have an MRI tomorrow to hopefully find out more about what is wrong with me, but I need to try to find some work, because I have negative no money and so does my partner. But I’m too sick to work, though I might be able to more than they can right now.
if anyone can spare anything I would be eternally grateful:
cash app: £ZandraGrace
PayPal.me/panspixie
damn it sucks that PayPal has to deadname me like that
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https://aroaceconfessions.tumblr.com/post/686688214120054784/hey-im-writing-here-because-i-need-advice-and-i
Hi! I’m this anon 👆
First of all I want to thank everyone who answered my original post, you all really helped!
Secondly, I’m here for an update and ulterior advice (sorry if I’m annoying, but I literally have no one else that knows that I’m both aroace and going to therapy, so here we are).
TW: internalized aroacephobia, drinking, therapy.
So, after my previous post I’ve been to therapy a few times. Luckily, the topic of romantic/sexual relationships never came up again because I had more urgent matters to reflect on. And I hadn’t worried about it since literally my last post, but I went to my last session three days ago and once again I had to face this topic.
For context: I had skipped two weeks of therapy because I’ve been really busy with planning a five months long stay in another country. I’m leaving soon. This week, luckily, everything is calmer so I went to my normally scheduled appointment and everything went well. We focused more on my anxiety because I actually had a few episodes and I wanted to work through them before moving away.
Because of my imminent departure, however, my therapist took a few minutes at the end of my appointment to give me advice and a small recap of my journey/growth till now (which I REALLY appreciated, don’t get me wrong). However in this recap he also mentioned that he would have liked to talk about non-platonic relationships, but my aroace ass never gave him the opening for it. I found this observation pretty fair actually, seeing as a lot of my journey in therapy focused on relationships, how they define me and what role I tend to assume in them. However, he continued his speech saying something along the lines of: “I want you to take this period [the travel] as an opportunity to explore yourself and your boundaries.To let go. And, why not, to explore [non-platonic] relationships. So if you find a boy you like - or a girl - go for it.”
Basically, he told me slut it out lol
But now I find myself with doubts for my last appointment before leaving the country:
1) Do I actually open Pandora's box and come out to my therapist knowing that I won’t be able to go fully in depth of the issue in just one session? Doing this would allow me to get more “tailored” advice for my stay outside the country and actually work on my anxiety from another point of view (not the non-platonic relationships one he already suggested). But it’s still super scary considering I don’t have a lot of time to explain myself (altough he actually acknowledged the possibility of me being queer!!! “or a girl”).
2) Second issue. In a fucked up why that I know I shouldn’t even be considering (for myself), what my therapist said makes sense. I feel like in a way he’s right and I should try exploring relationships, but I’m afraid I won’t ever be able to do it on my terms and that scares me because I already went through a “maybe I just need to get drunk enough to not feel repulsed” phase and luckily nothing bad actually happened. But now that I’m on the verge of moving continents and traveling alone I’m afraid I might resolve to that side of me again and go through grief and internalized ace/arophobia again and, man, I honestly feel like crying just at the thought of that. I wish there would be a safe and sure way to have these experiences but it’s either the unsafety of one-night-stands or the risk of losing a friendship because I decided to gamble on it in the hope I would develop romantic/sexual attraction.
I honestly feel so lonely and tired. It seems like this sexuality crisis will never end and like I might always be lying to myself.
I was so hopeful after my last therapy session, but the more I think about it the more I want to scream.
Sorry for the long post, I hope you all have a nice day! 🧡💛🤍💙
#aromantic#asexual#aroace#arospec#acespec#aspec#aroacespec#arose#internalized aphobia#anxiety#mental health#coming out#therapy
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"pulls out a gun* I have not been sincere with the audience since 2020 I am not responsible for myself. And believe me, my sincerity is terrible. I have to create pictures. That's all.
but I...oh
Moving abroad? The completion of the Great Plan that I spent almost a year on? Parting with a cat for almost a month? Feelings of uncertainty and fallen terror? Yes. I will draw it. My adrenaline is going through the roof for three days in a row, I don't eat anything and just draw. My voices play with me, make me fight and overcome. I am grateful to them.
I have been receiving information for a month now that I deserved the life and death of the beast. I don't argue with that. And I felt it, and I will feel it for a very long time. Society hates creatures like me because I did not join the general morality. Spit. I only know one thing for sure. I won't give up, because what else can I do but always taste metal in my mouth, get scars, lose my mind...I must continue the eternal battle. Until the last drop of blood.
I haven't been in a fandom for a long time. It's funny, I always say that I was, but it's a lie. This sounds like a very strange/unexpected and funny topic here, and maybe it is. But then again, I just avoid society. Because my thoughts and ideas are delusional(?). I like them, but society always bares its teeth at you. Or not. I don’t know, I haven’t been to places where I can just sincerely share emotions with people about some simple things that we like
If I don't stop writing this I might say too much. Who cares? Hah, funny question. After all, we perfectly understand what they are watching. You won't run away from them.
Why are we so afraid of death? Don't we all experience the feeling of death every day? You can be happy, scared, calm or energetic. You can be loved or hated. You may experience a kaleidascope of emotions but... but the feeling that you are bound to die is there.
[wanted to quote Nietzsche here, but I already sound too pathetic]
I am overwhelmed with emotion, remorse for my ideals and contempt for what drives me. Adrenaline hits me for the third day, I seem to be lost in time and I don’t know what will happen to me in a week...okay, I know for sure that I’ll watch Nimona from Netflix, but what then...
Again anxiety, building sand castles, noises... new place, new people. I've been waiting for this, but that doesn't mean I'm not excited about something new and familiar at the same time.
And this is the end of this post.
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Secrets
“Buck, stop,” Eddie shouted as he watched Buck storm off. Always with the two of them, they were one step closer to being something then they both take two steps back.
“I thought we were done with the secrets, Buck. Remember, you need to tell me everything. What is wrong?” Eddie pleaded, grabbing onto Buck’s arm. Buck stopped in his place and spun to face Eddie.
“I’m going to be a dad,” Buck shouted.
Eddie took a step back. Fear rushed through him. Fear that he was going to lose Buck again. Anxiety ran down his fingers making them shake. The anxiety of the fact Buck did something he would regret. Not about having a kid because Eddie knew Buck would be an amazing father, he already was one to Christopher. Sadness made his chest ache. The sadness of the fact Buck was never his even for a moment even if the dinners, sleepovers, the laughs, and the stories made Buck feel like Eddie. Eddie had to face the fact, Buck would never love him like he loved Buck.
“Is Taylor?” Eddie asked knowing he didn’t want the answer.
“What no. That would be impossible unless she was hiding it for like four months. Which I guess she could thinking about.” Buck’s anger was defused as he thought over the possibility.
“Well, who is,” Eddie asked.
“An old roommate of mind hit me up a few weeks ago to go to dinner with him and his wife. After a few shared stories and a couple of glasses of wine, they came out and asked if I would be their sperm donor.”
“Why didn’t you say no?”
“Why would I? Eddie, I get to have a chance to give a part of myself to help others.”
“Because a part of you couldn’t save your brother, Daniel.”
Buck was taken aback by the statement. How, how did Eddie know? Buck just wanted to prove that he was capable of something selfless. To do good and help others. Yeah, that might mean giving up a part of himself. Even though it had been two years since he found out about Daniel, a part of him still felt bad for not being able to save him. Buck knows deep down there was nothing he could have done.
Buck looked up at Eddie knowing nothing else needed to be said.
“You don’t always have to try to give something away to feel needed or wanted. There are so many people that love you for you. You don’t have to give a piece of you away.” Eddie stepped closer placing both hands on Buck’s shoulders, grounding him.
Buck knew if he had just talked to Eddie first, the voice in his head wouldn’t have won. His impulses and rash decision-making. Why didn’t he just talk to him? Why were Buck and Eddie so close but at the same time so far away from each other? It was like they lived one life together being BuckandEddie and then they were icing each other out the next.
“I don’t know. After the break up with Taylor, I finally felt a weight was lifted but at the same time like I was missing something. Eddie, I have never felt whole in my entire life. Like I have always been searching for something. I just thought this would fill the void.”
“Did it?”
Buck shook his head no.
“What are you looking for?”
“A family,” Buck whispered. He never admitted this out loud before. Sometimes he wouldn’t even admit to himself this was what he wanted.
Eddie didn’t know what to say. Buck had such low self-esteem that he couldn’t see what was in front of him. Who was in front of him?
“You thought what, they were going to take your donation and you will be part of their family. No, what is going to happen is they are going to say thank you and leave. Are you okay with that?”
No words. Nothing could be said because Eddie was right. Eddie stared at Buck waiting for an answer. The silence was deafening with only their breathing breaking the silence.
“No.” That was all Buck was able to say.
“Why then?”
“I just wanted to feel important. To feel love.”
“Damn it, Evan, I love you. I have loved it since the day in the back of the ambulance taking a bomb out of some guy’s leg. Ever since that day I have fallen deeper into it. I fucking love you, Buck. You have a family, Christopher and me. You are part of our family. You are our family.”
Buck never left his eyes on Eddie’s. Not able to comprehend but knowing this was what he was looking for. Deep down he knew it was Eddie, he was searching for his whole life. Eddie was the one that filled the hole in his life. Buck never felt happier when he was with Eddie. His smile was brighter when he was with Eddie. Buck was in love.
“I love you,” Buck said.
Eddie shook his head no.
“Don’t just say things. Don’t say I love you just because I said it. I need you to mean.”
Buck did mean it. Buck stepped forward placing a hand on Eddie’s hip.
“I do love you. I always knew but wasn’t sure if I could say. I didn’t want to ruin what we had.”
Eddie pulled Buck in kissing him hard. Not wanting to let go until both needed to catch their breath. Neither one is letting go. Neither one pulled away.
“I wish I wasn’t so blinded to realize you and Christopher were my family. I love to be your family.”
“What about the whole sperm donor thing?”
Buck shrugged his shoulders. Nothing was going to change. He was still willing to do a good deed for a family.
“I am doing it for a new reason. Not because I need to fill a hole but to allow another family to feel whole.”
Eddie pulled Buck back in, giving him another kiss before the alarm would go off for their next call.
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Mad Max - A Brighter Future
Chapter Six: Night Terrors
Max rushed down a long and twisted hallway as panic clenched his heart. He could feel his pursuers on his heels and hands grabbing at his back and shoulders. He was being taken again by those filthy, cancer ridden war boys to be used as a blood bag. But he wouldn’t go down without another fight. He turned and fought them back as fiercely as he could, but then one of them said his name. The voice did not belong to a war boy, but a woman and Max blinked. He suddenly woke up in bed with the sheets wrapped around his sweaty body.
Ophelia was on top of him, holding down his arms a slight trickle of blood trailing down her nose.
“Max, wake up!” she pleaded.
“Ophelia? Did I…did I do that?” Max asked, in regard to her bleeding nose.
She nodded and climbed off him to go wipe her nose. He had slapped her during his night terror, but it wasn’t anything Ophelia couldn’t handle. When she came back out of the bathroom, Max was standing by the door with a look of concern.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
He lifted her chin to inspect the damage, but the blood had already been cleaned away and no bruising could be seen. It was the third time this week that he experienced a night terror, but it was the first time he’d hit her during his thrashing.
“It’s fine, Max, really,” she said.
“No, it isn’t. I don’t want to hurt you,” he said.
She smiled and looked back into his blue-green eyes.
“I’m aware and grateful for that, but we need to understand why you are having these dreams. Have you had anything like this before?”
Max had night terrors often, but ever since he’d arrived at Golden Haven, two months ago, he hadn’t experienced them. But now, his fears and anxieties seemed to be resurfacing and his dreaming had changed from darkness to terror once more. Ophelia pulled him back into bed and he willingly followed.She sat up against the headboard and Max settled his head on her chest. He liked to listen to her heartbeat and breathing as it seemed to calm him down.
“In the past, yes. All the time,” he answered.
“Maybe you’re becoming anxious again because you think you’ll lose everything like last time?” She ventured.
“Yeah, maybe,” he said. “How do I make it stop?”
“I don’t know. I might have to start tying you to the bed at night for starters,” she said, jokingly.
He looked up at her and frowned.
“I think that’s a good idea,” he said, seriously.
“Don’t be so dramatic, I think we can figure out a more civilized way to handle your night terrors,” she said, kissing him on the forehead.
“Mmmmm,” Max grunted then snuggled deeper into her chest.
Ophelia giggled, feeling his stubble rub against her skin. The two lovers often went to bed naked and this morning both of them were stark naked. Max carefully crawled on top of her and she in turn spread her legs to allow him to settle between her comfortably. He kissed her softly, intending for the moment to be a sweet one, but Ophelia placed a hand behind his head and kissed him deeply. Max opened his mouth wider, hungry to feel her tongue against his own.
She moaned softly when she felt his cock grow between her legs, brushing aimless against her slit. Max could feel her nipples harden against his chest causing his erection to become complete. He moved from her mouth and kissed her down the center of her body. She could feel his deliciously plump lips lighting a path of fire on her body as he arrived at her mound. Ophelia trembled with anticipation as she loved how Max tended to eat her out. It was generally hot and sloppy as he went all in, no hesitation.
Max dove in and she could feel the delicious intervals of his lips caressing her delicate folds then his tongue twisting and lapping at her dewy core. She hummed from the intoxicating medley of carnal pleasure. She slid her fingers through his hair and sighed his name.
A thing that she had noticed about Max when they first started having sex was that he acted like a man who had been starved of it. She didn’t push the subject of when the last time was for him, but it must have been a very, very long time. The first night they were intimate, he was cautious and had only allowed her to do as she pleased with him. Then before they were able to actually have sex, she had been injured and they had to wait another two weeks before she recovered.
The first night they did have sex, it was like coaxing a wild wolf to come and eat from her hand. He was hesitant and uncertain, so she had to get a little forceful with him and climb on top of his erection. Once she started to ride him though, that is when she unleashed the beast within. He immediately switched her to her back and pounded her senseless. It was absolutely amazing how much thrust he could manage to deliver. It sent her into another dimension of pleasure. She liked that he was rough, but in a controlled way and that there was also a pinch of desperation thrown into his actions. It was like he thought that each time they had sex would be the last, so he gave her everything he could offer each time.
Max moved up to her clit and widened his tongue over her velvet bundle before tracing his tip across the top. Ophelia tensed and could feel the approaching orgasm. When she felt him insert two thick fingers into her drenched core she came and moaned out his name. As she orgasmed, he made his way up to her mouth and forced his lips upon her own, smearing her wetness all over. Max then broke the kiss and growled as he flipped her over onto her stomach. He pulled her up from the mattress and pressed her back into his chest. His hands smoothed over the curvatures of her body before coming up to her breasts. He kneaded her breasts in his firm hands as his mouth attacked her neck.
Ophelia basked in Max’s attention, he made her feel like a goddess as he worshiped her body. He grunted and she could feel his chest vibrate from his feral growl. Max then shoved his knee between her legs, forcing her into a wider stance. Pushing her down onto all fours, she felt his fingertips trace the outline of her slit. A thick finger stopping at her opening, locating where he needed to enter. He then proceeded to plunge his cock into her molten core.
Max was well endowed and always opened her up in the most satisfying way. His powerful hips drew back and slammed his throbbing phallus into her slick walls. He punished her again and again with steady and concise blows. She could hear Max moaning, that throaty sexy growl that only he could produce. He grabbed a fist full of her hair, pulling her head back and pressing his mouth against her ear.
“You’re mine, you know that don’t you?” he growled breathlessly.
“Yes, I’m yours,” she said, lost in a whirl of pleasure.
“Good girl,” he rumbled.
He returned to pounding her cunt and Ophelia spread her legs only wider to receive the full impact of his thrust, burying his cock deeper into her womanhood. This caused Max to moan even louder, filling the room with his animalistic grunting. She knew he wouldn’t last long now. And as his thrusts started to become erratic and careless she felt him tense up and pull out from her. He then spilled his seed over her lower back, thick ropes coating her skin as he smeared the tip around on her smooth flesh.
He didn’t like cumming inside her. Not because he didn’t like it, but he was afraid of bringing a child into this world. Ophelia could respect that, but there was something that she had been keeping from him. The council at Golden Haven had a breeding selection program. Only certain couples were allowed to have children and Max and Ophelia had been recently selected. She didn’t know when the right time would be to tell Max, because she knew full well how he would react. Something about how he acted made her think he had a child once and he had lost that child. She’d have to figure out how to explain to him. It wasn’t really their choice and overall it was their responsibility to repopulate the earth with stronger and more intelligent humans.
Once Max had come down from his orgasm he got up from the bed and wetted a washcloth. He carefully cleaned Ophelia off as she waited patiently on her tummy. He kissed her shoulder and gave her bum a little smack making her laugh and she rolled over to face him. She scanned his face to make sure he was okay. Sometimes he got this far away look on his face, which he was showing now.
“Where are you, Max?” she asked.
“Hmmm?” Max replied, climbing into bed next to Ophelia.
“You're buried somewhere in there,” she said, tapping the side of his head.
His eyes shifted away from her and he sighed.
“Why do you want to be with me?” he asked.
“Because, you’re a good man,” she said.
“Yeah, I don’t think that is true,” he said.
She nestled in on her side and laid her head on his chest. He brought his hand up and stroked her hair.
“Shut up, you are. Whatever you have done in your past, that was in order to survive,” she said.
She felt the gentle rise and fall of Max’s chest before he spoke.
“Hmmmm,” he responded.
She laughed softly. Max wasn’t really a talker. In fact, when he had first come to Golden Haven two months ago it was hard to get him to open up about anything. He would respond to questions or sometimes ask them, but ultimately he might have only spoken under a paragraph of sentences per day. Now that they were in a relationship she could get him to talk, but personal things were still an off limit topic with him. And that aspect of him made it very hard for her to tell him about the breeding program.
“I love you Max,” she said, feeling a little overwhelmed with emotions suddenly.
He didn’t reply and he stopped stroking her hair.
“You shouldn’t,” he said, after a moment.
“I do though,”
Again he remained silent. He had only known her for two months and wasn’t certain if he should be pledging his love in return.
“Max, I can literally hear the wheels turning in your head, just let it go. You don’t need to say it back,” she said.
Ophelia wasn’t hurt that he didn’t say it back. She knew how she felt and was comfortable with expressing her feelings. She was more of a here and now kind of person while Max was a dweller of the past kind of person. That dynamic tended to cause some issues in their relationship. And Ophelia knew Max well enough that there was a high possibility of him leaving after she told him about the breeding program. It did bother her, but she decided for now, she’d enjoy her time with Max and tell him the truth of how she felt. Whatever would come, it would come and she’d deal with it then.
“I…I love you too,” he suddenly said.
Ophelia kissed him, “Okay enough complex emotions for today. Let’s get something to eat. I fear you’ve physically and mentally exhausted yourself.”
“I’m not that delicate,” he said as he got dressed.
“For a Sand Dog, you are the most delicate one I’ve ever met,” she said, giving him a wink.
#mad max#tom hardy#tom hardy fanfiction#tom hardy fanfic#tom hardy fan fic#tom hardy smut#mad max smut
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The Break Up
By WD2021
Miranda sighed heavily.
She was sitting in the living room of the apartment she and Liam had been renting for a few months. At first, she’d insisted on staying in the royal palace, but Liam had managed to convince her an apartment would be better, at least at first. He wanted to move slowly and thought that living together in a monarchial capital might be… a bit much. Fortunately, with a bit of money on both their ends, they’d caught a very nice loft.
At first, things had been great. Miranda and Liam had been very much in love and were constantly spending time together. They were seeing movies, playing games, having great conversations. Liam seemed to let down his air of smugness around her and enjoyed simply… being. They’d even invited some of their friends from high school over to the apartment from time to time, since they kept in touch with most of them.
But after the first few months, things seemed to… die down, almost. It seemed to have started when Miranda started attending Monstropolis University; Liam enrolled as well, but he had to take night classes, due to scheduling conflicts. Because their classes were at completely different time frames, they barely saw each other between sleeping and being in class. At first, they’d relegated their couple activities to the weekends, but within a few weeks, they’d withdrawn into themselves. Even on weekends, they mostly just ended up avoiding each other.
Now, they only really interacted with each other when they passed each other in the hall. They didn’t fight, didn’t resent each other, they just… didn’t interact at all. They didn’t even eat together anymore, thanks to their complete opposite schedules.
Secretly, Miranda was worried Liam had become bored with her. He was prone to gaining and losing interest in people like his “tastes.” Is that what happened? Did Liam merely think she was a fad that he had no reason to continue indulging in?
Right now, it was a little past 11 o’clock at night, so Liam was in class. She’d decided to stay up and wait for him so they could talk about it. Admittedly, maybe trying to confront Liam about their relationship problems when he was tired from a day of schooling wasn’t the best idea, but she knew there was going to be no better time.
The real challenge was just trying to kill time and keep her anxiety at bay. She’d flipped through the TV channels about a million times, but nothing good seemed to be on. Even when she found something she liked, she could still feel the stress gnawing away at her brain, every possible bad outcome running over and over again in her head until she did anything else just to temporarily distract her.
Finally, just as the clock read a little past one in the morning, she heard the door lock turning.
“Okay… here we go.” She took a deep breath, trying to keep her nerves in check. The last thing she wanted to do was panic and scare Liam off from a potential discussion.
Liam stepped into the foyer and looked surprised to see Miranda sitting on the couch. “Oh… hey, Miri, I didn’t think you’d be up. Why aren’t you asleep?”
A perfect opening. “Well… I wanted to talk about some things, and I thought it would be better to do it now rather than later.”
Liam grimaced. “Oh… uh, I don’t know, Miri, it’s late—well, early, technically, but—well, you know what I mean, and I’m really—”
“Liam.” She looked at him with dead seriousness. Her eyes weren’t wide or begging, but they held a seriousness to them she wasn’t typically known for. “Please. We need to talk. If we don’t now, I’m afraid I’ll lose my nerve and we never will.”
He tried prying his eyes away, tried to tell her, “No.” He knew exactly what this conversation would entail, and where it would lead. But no matter how hard he tried…
“Okay, Miranda. We’ll talk.”
It was impossible to tell her no.
As Liam sat down next to her on the couch, she tried to figure out how to start. Truth be told, she’d never actually thought ahead of just getting him to agree to talk. Now that he was sitting here, her heart was pounding hard, afraid of messing up and scaring him off.
“Okay. Um… I’ve been feeling… sad, lately, I guess? I don’t know if that’s the right word, but, I just haven’t been feeling well, and things have been odd at home, and I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t—” Miranda was stumbling over her words, trying to find the right ones, and her breathing began to quicken. Liam’s face betrayed sympathy, and he laid a hand over hers.
“Miri… it’s okay. Just breathe, and… tell me what you think.”
Looking at him for a moment before smiling sadly, she took his advice. She breathed in… held it for a moment… exhaled… and started over.
“Liam, lately I’ve felt we’ve drifted. We never do anything anymore. I know I’m new to this whole thing… but that’s not good, is it?” Liam ran a hand through his hair.
“Well… it’s not terribly uncommon, but… no. It’s not great,” he answered.
The pit in Miranda’s stomach started growing larger and more dread-inducing as she approached the question she was afraid to ask. “Liam… I’m going to ask you something… and I want you to promise me you’ll answer honestly.”
“What? What are you—?”
“Please.” She looked straight into his eyes again. “Promise me.” Liam blinked and nodded.
“Yeah, okay. I promise.”
She felt the question catch in her throat as her eyes threatened to flood her cheeks with tears. Choking down her emotion, she forced her mouth to speak the words. “Are you… bored of me? Is… is that what’s wrong? Was I just… a new fad that’s become popular? Is it not… is it not cool to like me anymore?”
Liam was clearly caught off-guard. His eyes were wide, and his mouth was open slightly agape. “I…” He looked down and a light violet tinted his cheeks. “Miranda, I… have I been making you feel that way?”
Looking down, she stayed silent as tears ran down her cheeks. She refused to look up.
She felt his hands on her face, and he slowly lifted her eyes up to him. She could see his own eyes were moist, and his face was twisted with regret.
“Miri, I am so sorry… I had no idea you were blaming yourself, I just thought… well, I didn’t know what I thought.” He looked at her a little more intensely now. “But you listen to me when I say this, this is not your fault. Okay? You have done nothing wrong. We’re drifting apart, and… it hurts. But it is not your fault. And I’m telling the truth.”
Tears began anew as she hugged him tight. For once, he didn’t pretend to be above it or jokingly give her a half-hug. He hugged her back, tightly and comfortingly. As she sobbed into his shoulder, he just held her, and whispered, “It’s alright. It’s alright…”
After a few minutes, she was able to pull away and saw streaks down Liam’s own cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she apologized, “I didn’t mean—”
“Miri, don’t apologize. Please.” Liam held her hands. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry I made you feel that way. And I’m glad you trusted me enough to tell me.”
Miranda looked down a little. “Then… if that’s not what the problem is… what is? Why are we so… weird around each other now? I don’t understand.”
Liam leaned back in his seat. “To be honest, Miri… I don’t fully understand myself. There’s nothing we’re fighting about, it’s not like we’re resentful of each other, we’re just… drifting apart.”
For a minute, the two of them sat there, in an uncomfortable silence, not sure what was to come next. “Then… what do we do? If there’s no problem to fix… how can we?”
Liam sighed. “I don’t know if we… can, Miri.”
“Then… is it over? Are we… finished?” Thinking for a minute, Liam reached over and grabbed her hand.
“Miri, I want to be clear about something. You are a very important person to me, and you always will be. I still want you in my life. But I think maybe we’re just going in different directions. It’s not just our schedules are lining up; you want to help people; you’re working to become a therapist. And that’s amazing, I’m so proud of you for it. But my life… just isn’t that.”
Miranda nodded. “I… understand. So, in the interest of maintaining a friendship, I think perhaps it’s best if we… broke up.” Her voice cracked at the dreaded words. Liam’s eyes filled up again, but he looked down and forced himself to blink them away.
“Yeah. I think… I think maybe that would be best.”
Silence again. Then Miranda asked, “What do we do now?” Liam closed his eyes.
“This weekend, I’ll get some movers to come over. You can have the apartment, and I’ll find a place somewhere else in the city. You still have my phone number, so you can call me anytime you want. For tonight, I think I’ll find a hotel and—”
“No.” She grabbed his hands and looked at him, pleadingly. “Please, Liam. This is our last night as a couple. Please, just… just stay with me. Tonight. For our last night.”
Once again… he tried to convince himself to say no. That it was a bad idea, that they might change their minds and prolong this charade that everything was okay. But…
“Okay, Miri. Let’s go to bed.”
It was impossible to tell her no.
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