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#tw mental health
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Episode 01: Put Yourself Out There
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(OOC: Hello guys!! This is a new project I'm working on, and part of it is an ask blog, so feel free to ask Valenshy anything you like!!)
(if it's something inappropriate or fucked up, im not gonna respond to that, probably idk. Just try to be civil.)
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Once I learn how to stop being me it’s over for y’all
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4threset · 2 months
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"The Water Rabbit"
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redcrowncafe · 4 months
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risustravelogue · 3 months
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Gifts of A Kind
Summary:
His love for you is the gift he's offering.
Featuring:
Zhongli, Alhaitham, Wriothesley
Tags:
Emotional hurt/comfort, love confessions, self-indulgent, reader has mental health issues and huge insecurity about her worthiness of being loved. Fem!Reader (referred to as a woman) who is having her birthday!
Note:
Me: Happy birthday to me! 🥳 Also me: *writes an emotional hurt/comfort piece with my favorites to cry* Haha. Also, I'm resting from the 1-week EBG grind, so have this for now. As always, enjoy~
🔗 AO3 | masterlist 🔗
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It’s another busy day at Bubu Pharmacy.
Sorting the medicinal ingredients in one of the back rooms, you were humming to yourself when a familiar baritone voice came from behind you.
“Happy birthday.”
You turn around to find your crush, the handsome consultant of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, walking towards you with a huge bouquet of silk flowers, dotted with the biggest glaze lilies you’ve ever seen in your life.
“Zhongli! You remembered!” you squeal.
When the man you fancy remembers your birthday, you say thanks to Celestia above. Especially when he’s actually Liyue’s beloved archon.
—This is fine. He can never be mine, but I can have my small joys, can’t I?
“I have a gift for you,” he says with a playful lilt to his voice as he hands over the bouquet to you.
“You mean this pretty thing?”
He smiles. “No. It’s a surprise. Close your eyes.”
You obey. Your heart thumps with anticipation. Maybe you’re finally getting that cute hairclip you’ve been eyeing for a while? Or maybe…
Your thoughts dissolve into thin air when you feel a soft warmth pressing against your lips and the scent of his cologne entering your sense of smell. Your eyes flutter open to find your vision filled with him.
But it’s not joy you feel inside your chest—it’s dread.
You struggle in protest, only for him to snake his left arm around you and press his lips harder against yours. He takes the bouquet away from your hands and sets it on the table behind you while nipping at your lower lip, as if asking for permission. You put your hands on his chest and push him away, breathless.
“Why are you doing this?” you ask.
Zhongli blinks, surprised.
“I thought you wanted it. Was I wrong?”
You shake your head and offer him a frown. “Why?”
“Is that not obvious? I love you.”
—What?
“What did you just say?”
He smiles as he repeats, “I love you.”
“... Heh,” you chuckle, and it turns into a full-blown laughter. “You’re lying. You wouldn’t.”
He only stares into your eyes with those golden pupils of his, his soft expression still like the mountains. You shake your head, dispersing the thoughts that maybe, just maybe—
“No,” you say, shaking your head. “No one would, especially not you.”
You feel his left hand clench at the small of your back as his expression hardens. “Why not?” he asks.
A bitter smile grows on your lips. “You know why. I’m—you know. I’ll only be a burden for you. For anyone.”
“I can bear it, and you know that.”
“But I’m—I’m defective and you know it!” you shout, pushing him away to no avail. His eyes widen, his heart taken aback at how much you must have hurt. You feel your chest clench as you mutter, “I am not the right person for you.”
Zhongli sighs and caresses your cheek, so gently as if you are the most fragile piece of porcelain he has ever held.
“Listen. No one is perfect. Not even me. And you… you awaken something I have never felt in the thousands of years of my life. And I want—”
His lips quirk to form a painful smile.
“I want to keep you by my side, for as long as I am allowed.”
You chuckle bitterly as you slap his hand away.
“Stop it. I don’t want this. I don’t—you’re mistaken. You don’t love me. You can’t.”
Tears roll down your cheek as your fingers clench on the fabric of his suit.
“Please… you can’t.”
A heavy silence hangs between you. His fingers find their way under your chin, tilting your face up towards him.
“Look at me,” he whispers. You shut your eyes in defiance, and you can feel tears dripping down your chin.
“You are the kindest woman I know, and have a strength beyond what even most gods can comprehend. And please believe me when I say I have never met anyone like you in my life,” he says, his voice gentle like you’ve never heard before. You open your eyes to find his gaze looking softly into yours.
“I love you. I will be yours if you want me to.”
He smiles, and you can feel your heart melt.
“Let me be your strength, your rock, your home. Will my word as the God of Contracts do?”
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Expressive is one of the last attributes one would assign to the Scribe of the Akademiya, who also happens to be your longtime crush.
So you were surprised to find a saccharine sweet love letter in a pink envelope containing the words “I,” “love,” and “you”—in that order, next to each other—in his distinctly neat handwriting arriving at your doorstep on your birthday.
It’s not funny anymore, you think, deciding to confront him for playing with your feelings. You stroll to his office and bang at the door harshly, your face hot with anger.
“Come in,” the room’s owner says. You barge in, slamming the letter he sent you onto his desk.
“Out of all of your jokes, I rate this shit minus a hundred out of ten,” you say, voice shaking.
The silver-haired man tilts his head, seemingly confused. “What joke are you talking about?”
“This,” you smack the tip of your index finger onto the pink envelope, the force nearly ripping the paper in two. “This fucking letter, Alhaitham.”
“Oh, that,” he says with a smile. “I assure you, it’s not a joke.”
“Stop playing around!” you shout. “You said you love me, you liar.”
“Careful, I did say that, but my patience still has an end,” he says, his voice low, almost a growl. He sighs. “Why would you say I’m lying?”
You scoff. “Because there’s no way, right? You’re perfect, men and women alike want your hand in romance, and you said you love me?”
You laugh derisively as you try to ignore the sharp pain penetrating your chest.
“You can’t love me. You can’t. I’m just a pathetic woman fumbling through life, unlike you. You’re fit as a fiddle while I have to take medication every single night, else my sanity would crumble like dust. I’m a burden to everyone I’ve ever cared about. So please, just stop.”
You feel your lips tremble as you grit your teeth in pain. Alhaitham frowns.
“Yes, I know about all that. I still love you, though.”
“Shut up, Haitham.” You lower your head and turn away, stifling back a sob. “I don’t deserve you. Nobody wants me, and that should include you.”
He slams his fists against his desk as he stands up, making you jump in surprise at his loss of composure. He saunters over around the desk and stops in front of you, his much taller figure looming over your head. His hands find their way to squeeze your shoulders.
“Who hurt you?” he demands, his palms trembling in quiet rage. “I swear I’ll hunt them down and make them suffer for making you think so lowly about yourself.”
“No one,” you lie. The pain in your chest pulses. “I’m just stating the truth.”
“It’s not the truth,” he says, his hands moving to cup your cheeks. “One as strong as you shouldn’t have such a low opinion of themselves.”
He lowers his head to meet you in a slow kiss. A tear rolls down your cheek as you relish the feel of his soft lips against yours.
“There,” he mumbles after pulling back. “Now do you believe me?”
“I don’t want to,” you finally admit, tears now streaming down your face. “I can’t.”
“Then—give me the chance to prove my love for you. Please,” he says while pulling you close. You shut your eyes, taking in his presence like a thirsty deer greedily drinking from the water’s surface. The words he whispers next have a certain promise woven into them.
“I am going to make you the happiest person in the universe.”
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The Duke of the Fortress of Meropide looks a bit different than usual today. You are certain of that.
Whenever he catches sight of you, he’ll either hum tunes to himself, smile like an idiot, or walk towards you with a skip in his step that others barely miss.
Too bad you’re only his personal mechanic. Pointing his strange behavior out is way above your pay grade.
… Which is what you’ve been saying to yourself, but your feelings, your amour for him screams and rebels inside your chest, threatening to spill into the flirty sentence of “Wow, someone sure is happy to see me.” You bite on the insides of your cheeks to hold it back. After all, he knows that you’re literally sick in the head, and he wouldn’t want someone like you by his side.
He would never, ever fall in love with you.
But, if that is true… what is that beautiful bouquet of Rainbow Roses doing in his hands, then?
“Happy birthday, wonderful woman,” he greets, a grin plastered across his face. “Please accept this duke’s gratitude.”
“Gratitude?” you ask, folding your hand over your chest where your heart is—the organ working super hard to pump more blood to your already-pink cheeks.
“Yes. Gratitude for all the work you’ve done,” he says in a sing-song voice.
You sigh, trying to rein in the butterflies in your stomach. “Wriothesley, I’m not an idiot. I know what Rainbow Roses mean.”
His smile turns melancholic.
“So what do you say?”
You harden your expression, trying to keep your tone as flat as possible.
“I’m sorry… I can’t.”
An uncomfortable silence goes on for a few seconds.
“Sure you can. Why not? I’ve seen the way you look at me.”
“No, I can’t. Now please stop this nonsense, Boss.”
He takes a step closer, and you take a step back.
“Go away,” you say, turning away from him while stifling back a sob. “I can’t have you.”
He puts a hand on your shoulder. “You can. I want you to have me.”
You shake your head and shrug him off, tears starting to roll down your cheeks as the pain in your chest grows stronger.
“I can’t! I won’t burden you with… with me, of all things!”
“Stop saying that!”
Before you can react, he turns you around and pulls you into him, wrapping you with his strong arms like he’s protecting you from the cold, cruel world.
“Please stop saying that. You’re not a burden. You are never a burden.”
You try to push him away, but he doesn’t budge. His shushes drown your grunts of struggle.
“Let me go. Please, I can’t want this—I can’t want you,” you finally plead, but he only pulls you closer, trapping your hands between your chest and his. You limp, pathetic sobs filling the air as you finally surrender.
“You want to know a secret?” he asks. He does not wait for your answer.
“I think you’re perfect. The way you pursue growth, the way you love. You are the most precious thing I have in my life,” he says, his voice half a whisper. “I am eternally thankful for you. Thank you for coming into my life. I’m at my best when I’m with you, and I don’t only mean because you can fix my gauntlets.”
His embrace tightens around you. You can feel his growing stubble rub against your temple.
“And if I don’t at least try being with you, I’m sure I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”
He sighs as he presses his lips to the crown of your head, the warmth sending goosebumps across your skin.
“I want to be your home. I want… no, I need you by my side,” he continues.
Your grip on his vest tightens as you feel him bury his face into your hair.
“I love you. I love you so much, my heart hurts every moment I remember that you’re not mine,” he whispers. He pulls back, only to press his lips against yours in a slow, gentle kiss the next moment.
“Please… be mine. I will never let you down. That’s my vow to you, and I intend to keep it for the rest of my life.”
He looks into your eyes, his gaze as gentle as a beautiful snowflake. You tiptoe a bit to meet him in another kiss. He chuckles as he returns the favor with passion.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
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© @risustravelogue 2024 • FEEDING THIS WORK TO GENERATIVE AIs IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED. • do not repost. • reblogs are precious. • feel free to send an ask to suggest, chat, etc. 💖
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mysharona1987 · 6 months
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From Britney’s book.
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kaciidubs · 7 months
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Open Heart
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❣ Summary: When you don't know what to say or do, when life starts living you, you can always rely on Chris to bring you back. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 3.2k ❣ Warnings: Mental breakdown, existential crisis, implied panic attack, angst, fluff, comfort, crying, Supportive BF! Chris, Reader is a mess mentally and emotionally, discussions of family, careers, life, and the future, self doubt, self deprecation, mentioned disassociation ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Channie, Baby, Christopher, and Christopher Bahng [wowie], Reader is referred to as Princess, Baby, Love, Sweet Girl, this is the one that's personal so I'm sorry if you can relate but also you're not alone ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist
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“Yeah, dad, I know... Mhm... No, I haven’t heard back from them yet, but it’s only been a week since I applied so... Yeah, I know…”
You paced the living room of your apartment, holding your phone to your ear as you did your best to tame the headache brewing in your head. 
“I know you do, it’s just - there’s so many things I can do with my degree, I’m just trying to figure out what I want to do... I know... Yeah... Okay... Talk to you later... Love you too, bye.” 
Ending the call, you tossed your phone onto the couch with a heavy sigh - the weight of the world piling on top of stress already weighing on your shoulders. 
Everything sucked - almost as if the world was out to get you for simply existing; years of doing what was right, doing what you were supposed to, only for you to still feel like you weren’t doing enough. 
People pleasing. 
A wave of guilt made your stomach turn, tears stinging behind your eyes as you stood in the silence, yet it still felt so loud. 
You knew your dad meant well, your parents meant well, your family meant well, but every question, every poorly veiled nudge of ‘What’s your next big move going to be? You’ve been stagnant for so long.’ ate at your psyche at every turn. You felt like you did everything; you graduated high school in the high percentage of your class, you went to college, you graduated as a first generation student after five excruciatingly long years - yet through all that they still wanted more from you. 
A pleasure to have known. You have so much potential.
If you had a dime for the amount of times you’ve heard those words, you would’ve been a millionaire by now. 
A shaky breath rattled in your chest as you sighed, your hands rising to cup your rapidly heating face. “Fuck... F-Fuck.”
Your vision blurred, salty tears stinging your eyes before burning fiery trails down your cheeks with no signs of stopping. 
When was it going to be enough? When were you going to be enough? 
Your breath hitched, choking on a sob that your body refused to let go - not now, not right now. You were still young, you had so much potential - so why did it feel like you were being rushed? Why did it feel like everyone saw some invisible clock above you, counting down the days until you’d become useless? 
Wasted potential - those words always used to scare you, the famous buzzwords of any educator wanting to instill proper work ethic in their students; the future of the workforce. 
Wasted potential - that’s what you were beginning to feel at your 9-5; a quaint little job you kept throughout your final semester, something that got the bills paid and kept a little more in your savings. 
Wasted potential - that’s what you felt when your days began blending together, when you realized disassociation was your coping mechanism until your mouse hovered over ‘clock out’. 
You wanted to do so much, so much, but there was never enough time in the day - they were never ideas that would earn you a proper living wage, a career path your family wouldn’t agree with. 
Your body shook as a sob finally tore through your silent cries, your head throbbing as air tried to force its way into your lungs - crying never used to hurt like this.
Your world spun, it felt like time froze while speeding up, but all you could do was cry - stand in your living room and cry like a reprimanded child because you weren’t doing what you were supposed to. 
“Princess?” 
Your eyes snapped open behind your fingers, quickly registering a bigger, warmer pair wrapping around your wrists. 
“Baby, can you hear me?” 
Guilt. 
Chris was home early, and instead of relaxing like he deserved, he now had to tend to you - crying over the same thing you cried over four months ago. 
He felt you tense, he could see the spiral of overthinking, and his grip tightened, “Hey, hey, it’s just me - it’s just me, princess.” 
You sniffled, biting back another sob as you shook your head, “’M s-sorry-” 
“Shh, don’t apologize - you don’t have to apologize, not to me, not for this.” 
Understanding - he was always so good at that, making sure you knew you weren’t the problem of anything; he always joked he got better at it from you. 
Another wave of tears surged through you, nearly making you double over at the rush of fresh emotions popping off in your brain, your jaw tensing as you tried to stifle the illegible babbling falling from your lips. 
“I- It’s- I can’t- And- It’s just so-” 
Chris pulled you into his chest, one arm wrapping around your shoulders while the other cradled the back of your neck, his thumb rubbing circles just behind your ear. “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay - I’m here, you’re okay.” 
He blinked away his own tears, the sounds of your cries breaking his heart when he entered the apartment, and now the feeling of your body shaking against his like a fall leaf utterly tearing him apart inside. 
You weren’t sure how long you both stood there, him whispering words of comfort in your ear while you stained his black hoodie with your tears, but you slowly came out of your breakdown with uneven breaths - your hands holding onto his hoodie as if he was your lifeline. 
He was your lifeline.
“Can we go to the bedroom, princess? Can we manage that?” He cooed softly, a soft smile settling on his lips as he felt you nod. “Okay, we’ll go slow, yeah?” 
True to his word, he slowly led you into the bedroom with shuffling steps, noting how you clung to him like a baby koala, as if you separated from him at any point you’d float away into space. 
Sitting on the bed first, he scooted toward the middle of the mattress and you quickly followed suit; crawling toward him before laying your head on his chest, tangling your legs with his while he pulled you into his side. 
It was quiet, save for the occasional hiccuped breath and sniffle, the sound of his heartbeat slowing the thudding in your own head, the rise and fall of his chest reminding you how to breathe again.
“Love?” 
You hummed softly, your free hand nonchalantly playing with the drawstring of his hoodie. 
“Wanna talk about what happened?” 
Dropping your hand to lay flat on his chest, you took a deep breath to fight back another round of tears threatening to come out. “I... My dad called to check in, see how we were doing and all... He wanted to know if I found a different job yet, one that uses my degree, and I told him I hadn’t.” Swallowing thickly, you squeezed your eyes shut as you continued, “He’s worried that I’m not using my full potential, that I’m not getting paid what I should - and I don’t blame him, really, I went to college for a reason and everything, but it just feels like I'm being rushed into making another decision I’m not ready for." 
“Another decision like picking your major?” Chris chimed in - he’d remembered you telling him about your realization of wanting to switch majors in your junior year, but ultimately choosing not to since you were close to graduating at the time. 
You nodded, “I know he means well, I love my dad, I love my family, but it just feels like they don’t understand that I'm just...tired. I’m so, so tired that the idea of getting a new job - when I’ve only been at this one for just over a year - makes me feel like I can’t breathe. Fuck, the fact that I’ve been at this job for a year makes my skin crawl because this isn't what I want.”
Picking mindlessly at a few cotton pills collected on the fabric of his hoodie, a heavy sigh escaped you, “I feel like all I’ve been doing my whole life is performing for other people, catering to other people, to the point that I don’t even know who I am. I’ve always been told all these great things about myself, but-” A hot tear rolled across the bridge of your nose, “I don’t believe them, at all. Everyone sees all this potential in me and it drives me crazy because I don’t see potential in myself.”
Your name rolled off of his tongue softly, with so much care and gentleness that it made your heart hurt more because he’d been part of the crowd singing your praises and you practically confessed that you didn’t believe him. 
“Princess, my sweet, sweet girl…” 
“C-Chris, I’m-” 
“Please,” he cut you off with a gentle squeeze, “you already know what I’m gonna say if the next words out of that pretty mouth of yours are ‘I’m sorry’.”
Sighing softly, you accepted that fate as his right hand slid down your arm to take your hand in his, another gentle squeeze to remind you that he’s right here. 
“I just... I don’t know what I’m going to do.” 
“Well,” Chris hummed softly, taking in the way your smaller fingers threaded between his own, “what is it you want to do?” 
It was almost as if you stopped breathing, guilt and shame swirling around in your head at his question - the golden question everyone had, but never got the full answer to. 
“...open heart?” 
This time it was Chris’s turn to falter, craning his neck to catch a glimpse of your tear stained face. “Open heart, princess, always.” 
Open heart, something you’d both established years ago in your relationship as a way of asking for full attention - reestablishing that you both were in a safe space with zero judgment, remaining heart to heart with one another. 
“I-” You paused, fighting against the will of your mind wanting to keep yourself protected, from being seen. “I... I don't want to do anything…”
Before he even had the chance to breathe, you jumped into the defensive, “A-And I know that’s stupid- I’m in such a position so early on in my life and there’s so much I can do, but, baby, I’m at a point right now that I can’t see myself working a 9-5 for the next month, let alone another 40-or so years of my life!” Panic quickly began to set in as your thoughts ran a mile a minute, your brain begging you to stop but your heart pleading for you to get rid of this weight. “I can’t be a girl boss, I don’t want to be independent, I-I just wanna be taken care of and loved and supported - I wanna take care of all the things at home and be the one helping you reset after those stressful days. I wanna learn about myself and my hobbies and discover what kind of person I really am underneath all of these learned traits. And I’m sorry, I know, it’s pathetic, it’s shameful, it’s selfish to want to put all of this onto you-” 
The sound of your name falling firm from his lips stopped you in your tracks, your blood running cold as you laid as still as you could be against him. 
“Open heart means we can’t speak for each other, remember that rule?” His tone was softer, light and teasing, quelling the tinge of fear spoiling every word you spoke as you nodded. “Okay, good - now, can I say something, or would you like to continue?” 
“Please say something, Channie.” 
“Alright, first and foremost, don’t ever, ever call anything you want ‘stupid’ - your desires are what make you you, and that includes wanting that 24-inch green matcha squishmallow.” 
He felt your body shake - short laugh, a huff of air, a sign that he was breaking through.
“Second, I don’t think you wanting to be provided for is pathetic or shameful or selfish - it takes a strong person to admit that, and at the end of the day I think that’s what everyone wants in their own special form; somewhere they feel safe, cared for, loved. And, you’re not putting it all on me,” he felt you tense, but his hand held firm to yours, “because I want to be that for you. I want to provide for you, take care of you, handle all the things that are too big and scary for you to figure out on your own. I want to give you the freedom to explore and be yourself, pursue what you want and don’t want to do - and if that makes you ‘selfish’ then, princess, I’m the most selfish person of them all.”
“You-” your voice cracked, throat raw and sore, “You don’t mean that, baby, please-”
“C’mere.” He huffed, pulling you up with him as he sat up before tapping your thigh, signaling for you to sit on his lap - and once you were situated, he cupped your face in his hands, “I would never lie to you, you hear me? Since the day we met I knew I wanted to do everything in my power to care for you, even when we were just friends and you would join the kids in teasing me about how old I was even though you weren’t too far off yourself.” 
Your pouted lips morphed into a sad smile and he had to stop himself from cooing over how cute you looked, even with puffy eyes and an even puffier face.
“Plus, I’ve been taking care of seven other people for the better half of five years, what makes you think I don’t want to do the same for the love of my life?”
Teary eyes searched his for any sign of dishonesty, but all you found was overflowing truth and love, a fresh breath of acceptance cooling your lungs like drinking ice water after eating a mint.
“Open heart?” You murmured softly, taking his hands in your own before pulling them off of your, embarrassingly sore, face.
He nodded, ducking his head to press a fleeting kiss to your knuckles.
“I was always a little jealous of you, you know that?”
“Me?!” 
The shocked squeak in his voice made a giggle, a genuine giggle, bubble up inside of you and you nodded in earnest. 
“Yeah, you. I always felt like I was so far behind everyone around me when it came to having their passions in order, having their lives in order, and when I met you all I could think about was how sure of yourself you were - how you were able to follow through and actually do what you love for a living not only because people around you supported you, but because you believed in yourself.” Dropping your gaze to your entwined hands, you traced your thumbs along his knuckles, “You always knew what you wanted and you worked toward it - I always wished I could be like that, I still do.”
“Baby, you know you can’t-”
“-compare my life to yours, yeah, yeah, I know.”
He didn’t miss the lilt of playfulness highlighting your words, a smile finding its way to his face as he shot you a lighthearted glare, “No mocking! But, really, you shouldn’t - we come from completely different backgrounds, and if anything I’m more jealous of you than you are of me; there’s so many things you’ve done that I haven’t had the chance to experience.”
You let out an incredulous scoff, tilting your head inquisitively, “Like what? Work a draining part time job in the food industry?”
“Yes!” Though he was laughing, you could still hear the serious notes in his voice, “You got to work retail, you went on family vacations whenever you wanted, you fucking graduated college before I did!”
“Okay, first of all, all of my horror stories should deter you from ever wanting to become a retail employee in your near future!” Dropping his hand, you poked him in the chest with a faux glare, “Second, I guess you’ve got me there - between how often I’ve seen my family compared to you, I do win that spot… But that last one you definitely have over me, Mr. Double Major!”
“Oh shut up - you’re a graduate, I’m still in classes; you didn’t have to go from having practice at 8 but an exam due at 8:30, while still needing two demo tracks ready for the first listen at 10!”
The two of you dissolved into a mess of giggles and smiles, whatever tension remained melting away with each melodic sound that escaped you.
“Princess?”
You hummed, a soft smile settling on your lips, “Yeah, Channie?”
“Open heart,” Chris started warmly, deep brown eyes sparkling with a love only you could know, “I want you to know that I meant every word I said - I do want to take care of you, physically, mentally, financially, whatever way you’ll let me. And - not to sound cocky or anything, but I definitely make enough to support the both of us with no issue. Aside from that, I want to build a life with you - so if that life includes you being the hottest stay at home wife then it’s the best life I could’ve ever asked for because you’re in it.”
A wave of heat rushed over you as butterflies erupted in your stomach, “Stay at home wife, hm?” 
Of course, you paid attention to everything else he said, but you didn’t think you’d be able to say anything on it without bursting into tears again.
“Would you prefer stay at home mom? I mean, you’ve already got seven kids calling you it anyways - and I can’t lie, it does have a nice ring to it.” He grinned, releasing your other hand to wind his arms around your waist, scooting your body closer to his.
Rolling your eyes at his less than subtle tease, you snaked your arms around his shoulders, nails playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck, “Let’s just start with stay at home girlfriend and see where we go from there, yeah?”
“So you’ll quit tomorrow?”
“Christopher!” You stood no chance in holding back the burst of laughter that escaped you, narrowly avoiding knocking your head against his as you shook with unabashed giggles, “Tomorrow? You sound like you’ve been waiting for this confession to come!”
“Baby, I was one more angry rant of your supervisor ‘springing last minute work onto you’ away from quitting for you.”
Reeling yourself back in, you leaned forward to capture his lips in a soft kiss, your world finally feeling like the pieces were slowly falling into place - or, at the very least, revealing themselves to you. “I love you, Christopher Bahng, wholly and truthfully, there’s no words in the entire galaxy to express how much you mean to me.”
He held you tight, pressing his forehead against yours with a soft sigh, “I love you more, more than you ever know, more than all the stars in this universe and the next. Whatever you decide, whatever you want, I’ll give it to you - just say the word.”
“Does that include ordering takeout for dinner tonight so we can keep cuddling?”
“Find a menu while I change?”
“Order it while I wash my face?”
“Deal.”
Everything sucked, sure, and there was still much left to figure out - but with Chris by your side, you realized that things could get better with an open mind and an open heart.
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peachesofteal · 13 days
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Hi! Very personal peach stuff beneath the cut, don't like don't read. (tw for mental health and medication)
If you haven't figured it out by now, I am bipolar. I've talked about it here and there in very broad, non specified terms but haven't really done a post where I say it point blank because I just never felt the need, however, I do feel like we've built a pretty supportive, lovely community here and I wanted to explain where I am mentally and why updates might be lagging (as I've gotten a few messages asking about SM and DD). I also think it's important to you know, talk about it a little bit. When I was younger, I would have really liked to talk to someone who had their head on straight and lived a happy, fulfilled life on medication. I would've liked to talk someone who made it through. Maybe me talking about it will make someone feel less alone, or less scared (because once upon a time, I was fully fucking terrified). Or maybe it won't do anything, who knows.
Also, let me be clear: I am not ashamed of who I am or how my brain works, I just feel this has always been too personal to share on here. I'm starting to shift my perspective on the sharing bit, a little. Obviously.
Anyway, the winter to spring transition can be really rough if your brain is spicy like mine. I know most people love the days getting longer, the sun shining on their face, the sky turning brilliantly blue everyday, winter turns to spring and you might get a little bit of spring fever, a little bit excited, inspired, etc... and I feel that way too, except it makes it way too easy to roll upward into mania. It's like one stumble or fall- and the next thing you know you're falling down the rabbit hole. Mania is not some fun little day trip where you get bangs and stay awake until the sun comes up, it is not the romantic mood swing that some people think it is, it is dangerous and could potentially derail my life.
I am feeling particularly... "disrupted" this spring, and have been working really hard to keep the boat from rocking, so to speak. I am overall a very healthy, well managed person (on medication- that saved my life) but the boat is rocking a little bit, and things may need to be leveled out, or adjusted. It takes time and patience, and I am very grateful to have quality care (my psych is the best) that knows me very well and hears me out.
The good thing is I'm still writing little by little and hope to have updates for ongoing works up soon, and in the mean time, if you need someone to talk to, if you feel like you can relate to this, I'm here. I appreciate your patience and understanding in regard to the delay in updates!
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ef-1 · 1 month
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Hi! I noticed in your tags on a post (the one where Daniel is aiming the full force of his big brown cow eyes at Simon) that you mentioned a time where Daniel helped a reporter through a panic attack. I’m v intrigued about the full story. Do you happen to have a link or recall the details? Thanks!
Daniel was an ambassador for the inner ninja, a mental wellness and suicide prevention charity since 2016. The founder, Stef, was with Daniel on stage and she got overwhelmed and Daniel talked her down from it :((
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(thanks to meg💚)
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Touched starved and touch repulsed
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cheatsykoopa98 · 3 months
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I gotta be thankful for having my very own "ragatha" irl, idk what I'd do without my gf. it sucks feeling like you're the sources of everyone's problems, but having a little bit of color shine through makes me feel a little better
commissions, donations, you know the deal, please help if you can
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beefcliff · 1 year
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a little comic about having weirdbrain & working on autopilot
this isn't an excuse. i mean, i guess it is. i just want you all to know that i really want to make more comics for you all, i really want to make more art and post it, but i'm sincerely struggling to function. i'm trying to fix that. love, beefcliff
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One of Those Days
poly!mikaelsons x reader | request
summary: between the constant fighting and city clamor, you're overstimulated from the minute you wake up. you try to isolate until you feel better, but sometimes, that only makes things worse. luckily, your loving vampire partners are always there for you.
tags: sensory issues, mental health, overstimulation, arguing, mild emotional hurt / comfort
word count: ~2.6k
a/n: requested by @asexualaromosafezone - i am SO SORRY this took me literal months to complete. a couple days ago, i suddenly remembered i never filled it and finished it asap. i hope you like it, and again, so many apologies!
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Sometimes, you wake up, and can immediately tell it’ll be a hard day. The sun has barely risen, yet there’s already a million noises coming through your window. Chatters of people having their morning walks, car horns from those too impatient to let them cross, the distant clang of a dropped pot, and-
“REBEKAHHH!��
-Klaus, yelling for his sister. At seven in the morning. 
“What the bloody hell are you shouting for?! I’m right here!”
You sigh, glad that mystery solved quickly.
There’s probably a few more minutes until your alarm rings, so instead of getting up a little earlier, you opt to enjoy your last minutes of peace. Though you soon realize that’s impossible, given your circumstances. On top of the city sounds, there’s a bird right outside your window, and when you try to turn away from it, the tag on your blanket itches the inside of your thigh. 
“Ugh!” You toss the blanket off. 
Your alarm sounds not a second later. 
With a slap to your phone and then another to your forehead, you decide to just get ready for the day. Luckily, not much is planned. Marcel still has control over the city, and with you being human, your Mikaelson hosts don’t want you outside at all. 
See, you live with the family of original vampires. You used to be a Mystic Falls’ resident, but then after developing a close connection with the siblings, decided to move to New Orleans with them and get a fresh start. You were tired of the small town life, and while the big city can be overwhelming at times, you’ll never get sick of the culture it has to offer. Besides, living with the most powerful family makes you happier than you ever believed you could be. 
As much as you love them, though, they can be a pain. Like when Klaus can’t find his sister, but forgets a whisper would summon her just as effectively. Instead, he has to wake up the whole quarter, and inconvenience you with a headache. When you reach the dining room that day, you slump your head on the table. 
“Everything alright, darling?” Kol’s voice floats over your head, making you aware of his presence. 
“Tired.”
“Is your bed comfortable enough? Do you need more blankets?”
You haven’t been in the city long, and his consideration warms your heart. 
“Oh, I’m okay. I’m very comfy. Just haven’t gotten used to the city yet.”
“Ah, I understand.”
His attention drifts to his sister. You busy yourself with a plate of food and ignore how tired you feel. When Elijah sits beside you, you offer a smile, but don’t say anything. The man, polite as ever, does the same. Though while two of the siblings are quiet, the other two aren’t. Klaus and Rebekah are still on the same topic from earlier. They bounce off each other quickly, childish banter turning into an argument.
You try to eat in peace and ignore them, but it’s difficult. And it doesn’t help that you’ve been feeling down lately, anyway. It’s rather unexplainable, the way you feel. Some days you’d rather stay in bed all day than face the world. Your whole body could be begging for you to get up and get things done, but you just can’t. No matter how hard you fight your own mind, sometimes there’s no winning the raging war. 
To make matters worse, you’re always hypersensitive when you find yourself in these low moods. Every little thing is overstimulating and there’s no pause button. This morning, you didn’t even get a chance to wake up before the sounds started. (Thanks, Klaus.) You roll your eyes in your head, annoyed. 
“Hey.” A poke to your shoulder startles you, making you jump. “You okay?” 
“Ooh, you caught me off guard.”
“Sorry,” Kol smiles, “you in deep thought, or rolling your eyes at Klaus’ statement?”
“Uh…” You bite your lip. You were rolling your eyes about Klaus, but missed whatever statement it was that he just made. “What did he say?”
“That he was on his way to have a little chat with Marcel. That will go swimmingly.”
“Oh.” You snort and decide to joke. “Both.”
Kol grins at you, but then, thankfully, leaves you alone again. 
After breakfast, you retreat back into your room, not in the mood to face the day. If Klaus is really going to start shit with Marcel, it’ll be an intense day. You’ve never met the current king of the French Quarter, but Elijah’s told stories. Marcel and the family used to be close, but then, like all their other relationships, ties ended drastically. 
“But not with you, of course,” he had promised. “You’re our girl.”
You were skeptical for a moment. Who wouldn’t be, knowing the Mikaelsons? But then Klaus approached you from behind with a kiss to your hair and confirmed his brother’s words,
“As long as we have your loyalty, you’ll always have ours.”
You could see the truth in his statement. Everyone who ended up on their bad side had betrayed them in some way. So, as long as you didn’t repeat others’ mistakes; as long as you kept your trust in the family, you would be considered family. And ever since the day you first grew close, you have been their family. 
You’re close with all of the siblings. Elijah, first, when you couldn’t take your eyes off him at Damon’s dinner party. Then Rebekah, and then Kol, when he undaggered. Even Finn, before his untimely death - thanks to Matt, your good friend now worst enemy. Klaus took the longest to trust you, and you can’t blame him for having trust issues, but once he realized how much his siblings adored you, he was quick to accept your place with them. 
Now, the five of you live together, nine hundred miles from your hometown. It’s certainly a change, but every day with them is an adventure.
Like today, you suddenly think, overhearing Elijah’s footsteps in the hallway. Today has definitely been one of those days. 
“Y/N?” He stops outside your door.
“Mhm?”
“Can I come in?”
“Sure.”
Elijah opens the door, but doesn’t fully enter your room. He looks you up and down before smiling. “I just thought you seemed sad earlier and wanted to check on you. Is everything okay?”
“Oh!” You put on a brave face to mask the tiredness you feel internally. “Yeah, I’m just out of sorts today. It’s nothing.”
“Are you sure? Because if someone’s bothering you, that’s something we can take care of.”
“No, no, I promise. It’s all just me. Just having a day.”
“You’re positive?” He asks for confirmation again.
“Have I ever lied to you, ‘Lijah?”
He looks down at his shoes, embarrassed. “No, you haven’t. I apologize for doubting you.”
“It’s okay,” you step closer to him, resting against the door frame. “No need to apologize. But I swear, I just… woke up on the wrong side of the bed or something. New Orleans is a loud city. I’m still adjusting.”
“Okay. Well, call if you need anything. Even the smallest thing.”
“I will.”
“Oh, and be careful in the off-chance that Marcel storms in here. There’s a fight brewing in the quarter.”
“I’ll keep an eye out.”
“Better yet, stay inside for the day. So you’re not in harm’s way at all.”
“Okay, ‘Lijah.”
He smiles at you, then kisses your hand. “Now, I need to neutralize my brother. But I needed to make sure our girl was okay first.”
“She’s okay. Go deal with him.”
Elijah straightens his collar before speeding off to no doubt defend his brother in a fight. You love Klaus, but man, does he get angry. And then from anger, comes pure rage, then absolute chaos. Once situations escalate that far, the whole block better hide if they want to keep their hearts in their chest. 
You sigh, thinking of the carnage that may come. You’re not sure you can deal with his anger issues today, especially not coupled with those of Marcel. Of all the days they have to fight, it’s the one that you might snap, too, if he raises his voice one more time. 
Suddenly, your bed looks like the perfect oasis away from the mess behind your door. A good pillow over the ears might prevent an impending meltdown. You crawl into it at once and let your body melt into the mattress. 
You hadn’t lied to Elijah, though you hadn’t given him the full truth, either. Yes, you are, in general, okay. Not necessarily today, but at that moment, you were. Also yes, you’re not feeling great today, partly because of all the city noise. And, finally, yes, most of it is just you and your body not in the mood to be awake. Though Klaus is contributing, just a little bit, to your mental distress today. Elijah would understand, of course, but then he’d have a talk with his brother about it, and you really didn’t want to burden either of them in that way, so you put on a smile and didn’t mention it. You’d bet Elijah knows the full truth, and knows why you won’t admit it, but he respects you if you don’t want to talk about it. That’s one of the reasons you love him so much. 
You get a couple hours of rest until your slumber is interrupted by a new knock on your door. It’s not soft, like Elijah’s, so it must be one of the younger two. 
“Oh no,” you mutter, wondering what it must be now.
“Y/N?” Rebekah’s voice comes from the other side. “Are you awake?”
“I am now.” 
She opens the door as you reply. “Oh what the bloody hell are you still doing in bed?”
“Sleeping.”
“Obviously! Come watch a movie with Kol and I! We’d love your company.”
“An actual movie, or the public display of violence happening outside in the quarter?”
“We haven’t decided yet!” She grabs your hand. “Come on!”
You yawn. “I’m gonna pass today, I’m not up for it.”
“Awh, Y/N! It won’t be as fun without you!”
“I have a headache, Bex,” you fib. 
“Do you want some blood for that?”
“Does that even work like that?”
She shrugs, “not sure.”
You cuddle into your pillow. “Another time, okay?”
The girl smiles, then leans forward to kiss your head. “Okay. If you change your mind, come find us.”
“I will. Thank you.”
“Dinner’s at seven. Will you be there?”
“Yeah,” you promise, “I should be better by then.”
You are not, in fact, better by then. If anything, your foul mood progressed into an actual headache within thirty minutes of Rebekah leaving. Shouts throughout the city managed to penetrate the thin glass of your windows, and you could hear almost everything as Klaus heckled the current king. For hours, it went on, until the sun went down and they assumedly put it off for another day. By seven o’clock, you were able to sneak in another nap, but you still felt way overstimulated from the day’s events. 
Not to mention the fact that you spent all day in bed. Sometimes, you’re overstimulated by too much going on, but today you partly did it to yourself by hiding away all day. The guilt of avoiding everyone weighs on your chest. Rebekah had invited you to a movie; Elijah went out of his way to check up on you, and you had more or less dismissed them both. A bitter taste sits in your mouth when you think about it. Water doesn’t wash it out.
Hopefully dinner will. 
For the first ten minutes, the night passes peacefully. Most of the conversation is focused between the meal and the movie the two had watched. The events of the day, seemingly, are left in the past.
But then, of course, Kol has to make a comment on something he overheard that he thought was funny. And that set Klaus off into a spewing of anger. He’s pissed at Marcel, but now, also, at Kol for bringing it up. Elijah puts his face in his hands, and Rebekah sends both a huge eye roll. 
What was a moment of much-appreciated silence is now a yelling match. After five minutes, you reach your breaking point. 
“Why do you feel the need to comment on that, Kol? It was so insignificant, but you’ve felt the need to bring it up, and now I’m reminded of how much Marcel has done to piss me off!”
“I didn’t mean to make you upset, bloody hell! I thought it was funny!”
“It wasn’t funny to me when he was spitting in my face! I-”
“Oh my god! Are you ever not arguing?!” You suddenly shout. 
The table goes silent and all eyes are on you. A needle could be dropped and it would be heard across the quarter. 
“I’m sorry,” you apologize quickly, embarrassed.
“Love,” Elijah puts a hand on your shoulder, “are you alright?”
At his touch, you flinch. He retracts his hand quickly, but doesn’t move his body away from its proximity to yours. 
Klaus, although upset at the interruption, notices this and calms a little. “Everything okay, Y/N?”
“I’m fine. It’s nothing.”
“That little outburst didn’t sound like nothing.”
“I’m just stressed.”
“Darling, what’s got you all upset? Tell us and we’ll sort it out now.”
“It’s no one, Kol, I’m just not feeling well.”
“Still have a headache, sweetheart?” Rebekah asks. 
“You have a headache?” Klaus butts in. 
The assortment of questions makes you drop your head. It nearly hits the table, but Elijah grabs your frame before you can fall. Tears form in your eyes, visibly. 
“I’m just really overstimulated today. I woke up weird and this city is loud, and then there was all the fighting all day long, and then I hid in my room all day, but then I felt bad about hiding, and now I’m making you all worried because I can’t get my shit under control!”
“And that’s your fault, how?” Elijah asks, “you cannot blame yourself for the way you feel.”
“But I need to handle my emotions better. I’m sorry.”
“No apologies necessary, love,” Klaus adds, “I certainly haven’t helped, fighting with children all day.”
“Niklaus,” Elijah warns, but Klaus doesn’t argue with him this time. 
“I should’ve stayed with you when you said you had a headache.”
“Don’t blame yourself either, Bex. It’s not your fault.”
“But we could’ve cuddled,” she frowns.
“It’s okay. I got a nap, and it helped a little. I just need to get used to my life being different now. None of you are at fault.”
“Nor are you,” the eldest reminds, “it’s been quite a day for us all.”
Kol clears his throat, “say, after dinner, if you feel up to it, we could all watch a movie and cuddle around you? I think some comfort is much needed.”
“Sure,” you agree, “but I might fall asleep during it.”
“That’s quite alright,” he smiles. He then stands up to hug you, but when his arms wrap around your neck, you freeze.
“Not yet, please. I’m still a bit stressed.”
He gives you a wink. “Of course, darling. Let me know when you’re ready.”
Klaus flicks his napkin across the table. He’s folded it into the shape of a heart. “We love you. You know that, right?”
You take the heart, kiss it, and put it in your pocket. “I do. I love you all, too. Thanks for understanding.”
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strawberries-666 · 5 months
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mysharona1987 · 1 year
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Regardless of what you think about Ben’s point about Kanye (and I have some serious issues with it), the fact he won’t condemn the GOP’s treatment of the clearly equally unstable and unhinged Herschel Walker says a lot about his principles. Or lack of them.
Oh, right. There’s a senate seat at stake. And that’s all that matters.
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