#tw self doubt
Note
Hi! I loved water in your hands even though I accidentally read part 2 first 😩, can I please request a little drabble from readers pov when Joel just cut her off and missing work etc when he got married? No worries if not! Just wanted to say I really enjoyed reading :)
well thank you anyways for returning to read part 1!!! and i am so happy that you enjoyed reading!
i’m not sure if you checked out the playlist for the series that i made (spotify / apple music), but liability by lorde made it on there because it is literally what i imagined reader would feel during that time. my hopeless romantic who has never felt chosen </3
liability
drabble for “water in your hands” series
rating: M
word count: 1.2k
summary:
They say, "You're a little much for me / You're a liability / You're a little much for me" / So they pull back, make other plans ' I understand, I'm a liability / Get you wild, make you leave
warnings: angst, insecurity, self doubt, mentions of water/drowning
You didn’t even have any last words from him to mull over. The last thing you’d heard from him was him asking if you were okay as you lay next to him in the middle of that field.
Instead, his silence has sharpened the knife that he’s driven into your heart, his lack of acknowledgment of everything that happened twisting it to carve out a large space for the pain to seep in. And when you’d heard that he was dating someone else, seriously dating, according to Tommy, the knife was pulled clean out and stabbed into your back.
He’d spent one night with you, and somehow that was enough for him to know that he didn’t want you. All of those messages you thought he’d sent now mixed, your recollections of those fleeting, flirty moments poisoned by the knowledge that he didn’t want to be pulled into your storm.
It was the only reason you could think of that maybe drove him away. You knew that you weren’t settled, that you had your own issues to grapple with from everything you’d been through prior to Jackson, but you were secure in yourself. Maybe Joel didn’t want to deal with your shit on top of his own.
You were a little too much for him; a liability to his own healing.
You were on your own at the end of the day, superficial friendships and mere acquaintances belonging in the daylight. The only seemingly real friendship that you’d grown here was with his brother, and the saying goes “blood is thicker than water.”
Returning to a lonely house, yellowy lamplight bathing your space but doing nothing to warm your insides. You spent nights on your own, re-reading your favorite novels from the worn shelves in your cozy living room or spinning a record to dance around and forget for a few minutes. In those times, you were thankful that you were still looking out for yourself, that you still had your own back despite all of the doubt your own mind had grown.
In those solitary hours, all you had were your thoughts, which revolved around him, throwing you into a cyclical whirlpool of heartache. Only when you thought you’d pulled yourself out, had finally felt the heat of the sun on your face above the surface, one single memory of his fingers brushing your thigh or his lips ghosting over yours or a whisper of your name rips you right back into the current.
He left you behind and moved on.
Dating someone else, ignoring you for days that turned into weeks, that’s now become months.
You remember the day you found out that they were engaged.
It happened at the end of your shift, your coworker Tracy popping in to have a nightcap. She was tipsy already, spilling where she had been prior to coming to the bar. There was a party at Tommy and Maria’s, she’d said, a wide drunken smile on her face as she excitedly gossiped.
“They threw Joel and Heather an engagement party! How sweet is that?”
Engagement? Engagement. Engagement.
Engagement led to marriage.
Marriage was meant to be for life.
And Joel never does anything half-assed.
One time, a few weeks after Joel had returned to Jackson, you’d let yourself daydream indulgently. It’d been about him, about what you envisioned a life with him would look like. You’d pictured your own wedding, the closest people to you both the only ones in attendance. In your imagination, you’d seen your brother there, your sister, too.
It was a dream because, even if you ended up with Joel, you never thought he would get married. He was loyal, devoted, committed no matter what jewelry was on your fingers. Those traits were intrinsic to him. You didn’t think something like that mattered to him; he would be a husband, a partner to you without any ceremony.
Clearly, you didn’t know him as well as you thought you did.
Their engagement was fast. You’d heard from Tommy about a month later that the wedding was happening at the weekend. Bile coated your throat, burning acid settling there for the rest of the afternoon that you spent at work. You’d returned home that evening, crawling into bed and crying yourself completely dry and numb.
You didn’t leave that spot for days. Skipped out on work. Ignored the knocks at your door from Tracy, Maria, even Tommy. Limbs felt too heavy to move, bones ached deeply, dull pain sawed at your constricted heart.
Thoughts kept steamrolling each other, your brain was unable to shut them out as you spiraled silently alone.
A toy. A plaything. A little doll.
An achievement to be conquered.
He’d played with you; bantered with you. He was flirty -- suggestive at times. But once you’d given him everything, unveiled your thoughts and feelings to him in hopes of him returning them, even just accepting them, he’d gotten bored. There was no more chase. You’d rolled over like prey, submitting to anything he could have wanted from you.
You were only exciting to seek in the night, ghostly touches in the bar and a chance encounter under the moonlight.
Naive. Childish. Too much.
Delusions of a perfect summer with Joel changing with the leaves and eventually becoming rooted together had blinded you from his true intentions with you.
You were better off on your own, so it seemed the universe was telling you. Losing your siblings, your family, lacking friendships, and now your prospect for love slipped through your fingers in a rush, fleeting efforts made to contain it like water in your hands. No matter what, it would have found cracks to drip through, and eventually drained completely.
He evaded you, leaving you in an unrequited romance. You were in love with him. And now he was married to someone else, in love with someone that he could easily be with no disadvantage or opportunity for embarrassment. There were no means to confess your found feelings, so you lay for hours in your bed while tears soak your pillow and words are branded into your mind.
I’m in love with Joel Miller, and he won’t ever love me.
You repeated it so many times that it sounded like the truth, like gospel, and then, at a certain point, like a foreign language. The words eventually meant nothing in their countless repetitions, the weight of your self-confessional lessening with each second passing. Your limbs felt lighter, bones less sore, and the grip of pain on your heart loosened.
In the next moment, all you could think about was feeling the warm summer air on your face again. Finally, after days isolated, you were going to take a chance to disappear into the sun. You’d pulled yourself out of bed, changing into fresh clothes.
With one glance out of your window, the plans were soured when you saw it was sunset, that you’d have to wait until morning for your walk in the light. You decided to stay up all night to be able to catch the sunrise in the grazing field. To occupy yourself, you milled about your kitchen and living room, doing the small pile of dishes that had accumulated and straightening up the place. The clock on your wall read the early hours of the morning, and with no other chores to do, you turned towards your collection of books.
As you thumb through your shelves to find another novel to escape into for a few hours, the sound of knuckles lightly rapped on your door.
tagging the usual mutuals: @swiftispunk @joelsversion @johnwatsn @midnightswithdearkatytspb @pedrit0-pascalit0 @theelishad @undrthelights @ladamedusoif @ruinedbylanadelrey @thetriumphantpanda @pedgeitopascal @dinsdjrn @thepascalofus @pedgito @soaringcloud @somedayauthor @alloftheimagines @pr0ximamidnight @beskarandblasters @atinylittlepain @scrambledslut @lunapascal
#joel#joel miller#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x yn#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfic#tlou fanfic#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#tw insecurity#tw self doubt#me#writing#requests
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Hello, this is my first time ever requesting something on here, so I will keep it simple. Could you do something where the reader’s f/o comforts them and reassures them that they’re not a burden and they aren’t too much(personality wise) after people have made them feel that way their entire life? You don’t have to if this is too much :)
Thank you!! p.s. I absolutely love your work, it’s so comforting <333
aww, thank you, anon! /gen and thank you for reading my work. also this is my first request, so at least we’re in this together :P sorry if this took too long, btw
You didn’t understand. Couldn’t fathom it.
Your F/O… well, they’re them. They’re awe-inspiring, the one who hung the moon and stars in the sky yet could make any light seem dull when compared to them. Even if not many see it, just seeing them makes your world sing with Shakespearean rhymes.
Then… there’s you.
The off-key note. Your thoughts summed you up as the screeching in the background that would wake your F/O from their love-filled dreams, not be the star of them. And they’d notice that soon enough, right? That’s what your thoughts told you: Wait and see how the apple of their eye rots. The other shoe will drop. And…
It never did.
Not because your F/O is blind to your flaws, but because they accept them. 999 days of misery are worth it to see your smile on the 1,000th day. Even so, they don’t love you for your smile. Not for your looks, nor for a specific aspect of your personality.
After all, if your F/O wanted a “perfect” partner who didn’t do anything but wear a sewed-on smile, they would’ve married the shadow tied to their feet. Your F/O loves you for who you are. From your skin to the marrow of your bones. From your despair to your bursts of hyperactivity.
No one curses the Sun when it’s shrouded by clouds, and it only shines brighter when a new day dawns. So what reason do they have to stop loving you the moment you frown?
What reason do they have to stop loving you the moment you need it most?
#no I’m not explaining my months’ long disappearances /hj#but je suis back#tw selfhate#tw self doubt#I’m pretty sure that’s it??#f/os#f/o#f/o imagine#f/o prompts#imagine your f/o#imagine your fictional other#imagine#self ship imagine#imagine your comfort character#romantic f/o#queerplatonic f/o#pls tell me if this is unsatisfactory-
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You're Perfect
Niall Horan x Fem!reader
summary: when insecurities get in the way, your boyfriend is always there to make you feel like the most important person in the world
content/warnings: mentions of insecurities
word count: 609
note/request: "Could I get a Niall Horan x reader where she is sensitive but offensive about how she looks. Niall shows her he doesn't mind any look even if it looks messy or weight sensitive. Maybe he could like show her how beautiful he thinks she is. Reader would be female, light skin, brown hair, brown eyes. They could be long time friends that turn into a relationship" - anon
I stuck as closely to your request as I could without getting to specific about the readers appearance so everyone could insert themselves. I also kind of was at a loss for how to extend this since I struggle writing hurt/comfort but I hope you love it!
masterlist
Standing in front of the mirror crying was a very common thing for you. Your insecurities had always been a very big part of your life. They held you back from doing a lot of things. Currently, they were preventing you being able to leave the house.
Niall had a reservation set up for the two of you at one of your favorite restaurants to celebrate your anniversary. When he told you about it this morning, you already decided what you were going to wear.
You had impulsively bought a dress a few weeks back that you didn't really have any purpose for. You loved the way it looked on the model. It accentuated every curve perfectly and highlighted every breathtaking feature she had. But when you wore it, it did the opposite.
"Babe? You almost ready? We've gotta-" Niall's voice cut off as soon as he saw you. He slowly raked his eyes up and down your figure, his eyes darkening the longer he stared.
Your eyes immediately started watering as every thought he must be having began running through your mind. Every negative thought you had ever had about yourself sprang to the surface. Every negative emotion you've ever felt clouded your mind.
"I'm sorry, I'll change. I really thought this dress was perfect and it was but I ruined it and-" Niall pulled you into his arms suddenly, guiding your head to rest in the crook of his shoulder.
"Baby, you look amazing. You always do." You never knew that two sentences could push you over the edge, but they sure as hell did as violent sobs began wracking through your body.
Niall slowly led you over to the bed, sitting you on his lap as you continued crying. He repeated over and over how perfect you are as he rubbed soothing circles on your back.
As your sobs slowly began to die down, you raised your head just enough to look into Niall's eyes. You took the moment to study his features. Everything from his perfectly-styled hair that is usually sloppy to his gorgeous blue eyes with the faintest bit of green was engraved into your mind, a constant reminder of just how perfect he was.
"Hi." You carefully wiped your eyes, hoping to save whatever makeup was still on your face.
"Hi petal. D'ya feel any better?" You nodded, cuddling back into the crook of his neck.
"Alright then, let's get ya cozy hm?" He moved his hand towards the back of the dress, slowly starting to unzip the zipper. Your hand flew back as soon as you comprehended what was happening, pulling his hand back between the two of you.
"Ni, what're you doing? We gotta get going." He shook his head, hair flopping wildly around after he had spent so much time fixing it.
"Nope. We're gonna stay right 'ere, in this bed, cuddlin all night long." His head moved down to your chest, leaving kisses across the open skin.
"But what about the reservation?" A small pout made its way onto your face, quickly followed by Niall's thumbs smoothing out the creases and manually lifting your lips up into a smile.
"Screw the damn reservation. I'd rather be cuddled up with m'girl any day." His hand traveled back to the zipper, you no longer fighting it.
When you both finally changed into more comfortable clothes, you cuddled up in bed and turned on one of your favorite movies. Your laughs echoed all throughout the room, redirecting Niall's focus to you every time. Honestly, he would much rather watch you watch the movie than actually watch it himself. You're just so pretty.
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#niall horan x reader#niall horan x fem!reader#nialler#niall horan#my lover#niall horan x you#tw insecurity#tw self doubt#niall james horan#girlfriend!reader#boyfriend!niall#niallfic#niall imagine#request#anon
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How Law Treats Your Depression
Crossposted from my AO3 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/44915341
TW’s: SH (not explicit detail, but talked about, and checking the healing of it), mentions of manipulation, depressive thoughts, symptoms of anxiety and depression.
I wrote this when I was goin through a rough patch. No romance exactly, just fluff. It makes me want to cry every time I read it so I’m sorry in advance if it makes you feel the same way.
The symptoms Law lists are from the DSM 5 and my own experiences.
----
You raised your hand, shaking from anxious hesitation. The door seemed to loom in front of you, being an impenetrable shield to your glimmer of hope for a cure.
“Oh, are you going to see the captain?” said a voice behind you. You nearly jumped out of your skin, spinning around with your fist still raised. You calmed once you laid eyes on Bepo. You exhaled with a small smile.
“Uh… I... I think… well, it can wait” you managed to get out, stumbling over your words. Bepo cocked his head.
“It’s okay, Come in with me. I just have a quick question and then you can talk to him.” His wide body was accidentally corralling you towards the door as he knocked twice.
“Come in” said a voice gravely with exhaustion. Bepo smiled at you and gestured for you to open the door. You gulped but followed his silent request. Will Law even help me? I’m not technically part of his crew. Still, he healed Luffy after Marineford. I’m part of the Strawhats and we’re allied but… your anxious thoughts garbled the mundane question and answer that occurred between Bepo and Law, and before you realized it, the bear was leaving the room with a small pat on your shoulder.
“So?” Law said, cocking an eyebrow at you. Your heart thudded.
“Uh… it… It’s not too big of a deal” you began, trying to scramble for words to voice your request.
“But you’re a doctor, right?” you asked. You cringed at the dumb question. This was why you proposed this whole internship in the first place! Sure, learning about the submarine would help your crew eventually somehow, but… you had to follow through on your real reason for coming here.
“Are you feeling okay?” Law asked. There was a tone of professionalism in his voice now, different than the regular voice he used as a captain.
“Yeah I’m fine!” you replied automatically with a forced smile. His brow furrowed.
“Then why do you need a doctor?” he prodded. You swallowed, looking down. Your heart thudded and your stomach dropped.
“If… If I tell you some hypothetical symptoms, would you be able to give m… uh… the patient, a cure?”
He leaned back in his chair, his hands steepled under his chin.
“Maybe. There may not be a cure exactly, but medicine or surgery could help. Or both” he said, shrugging. You didn’t like the gleam in his eye when he mentioned surgery.
“Oh” you muttered disappointedly. Law sighed and gestured to a seat.
“Sit. Tell me about the patient’s hypothetical symptoms.”
You sat stiffly in the chair, bouncing your leg nervously as you steadied your breath.
“Where should I start?” you asked, glancing at the captain. He hummed in thought.
“Start with the physical symptoms. Aching? Discomfort? Sweating? Redness? Exhaustion?” he rattled off easily. You furrowed your brow, thinking. Back to when your symptoms really acted up.
“Um… exhaustion for sure. They sleep a lot, and minor tasks seem to make them tired. Not like physically exerted, but just like they need a break mentally?”
“Any other physical symptoms?”
“Hmmm… does crying count?”
“From physical pain?”
“No… but sometimes it’s accompanied by a fast heartrate and hyperventilating. Oh, and a decreased appetite” you reported factually, gazing upwards as you thought. Law hummed.
“What about mental symptoms?”
“M-mental?” your heart dropped. This was the part you were worried about.
“Mental distress often leads to those physical symptoms.”
You held back a scoff. Mental distress? It’s not that big of a deal.
“Symptoms like what?” you asked quietly. You refused to look at the doctor.
“Low self esteem past the normal amount, feeling like a weight is holding you down, feeling worthless or guilty for things that aren’t your fault, decreased concentration, and loss of interest in things the patient used to like” he listed. He hesitated before he continued in the same even tone “thoughts of hurting themselves or others, and thoughts of killing themselves.”
You flinched at the last two. This guy really does not pull punches when it comes to medical stuff you thought with an internal shudder.
“It sounds way worse when you say it out loud” you muttered under your breath.
“I have a hunch this patient has a combination of two illnesses- depression and anxiety- which are very common together. Should I list the symptoms of anxiety, and you can tell me if it seems to fit?”
You sighed, but nodded.
“Worrying excessively about things and finding it difficult to control the worry, muscle tension, restlessness, easily mentally fatigued, mind going blank or difficulty concentrating, irritability, sleep disturbance…” he listed, trailing off.
“Basically, worry and stress that goes beyond the norms. So, like not about being embarrassed, or away from people, or during a panic attack. Of course, panic disorders are basically part of anxiety disorders and are just an intense episode of an accumulation of different symptoms, which you mentioned with the fast heartrate and hyperventilating. There’s also probably some other symptoms yo- uh- the patient doesn’t notice during the time, or doesn’t know it’s a symptom”
You tried to absorb the onslaught of information thrown your way. You rubbed your temples. Law seemed to notice your struggle.
“I know it’s a lot of information all at once” he said sympathetically. You sighed. There was only one question you had. You looked into the captain’s grey eyes.
“Is there a cure?”
The captain hesitated, but leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his desk and met your gaze resolutely.
“No”
Your heart dropped, and your lungs constricted. Your throat burned as you fought back tears.
“There’s no cure, but there’s medicine that can help.”
“Right” you muttered as you stood. You had your answer. You needed to leave.
“Wait.”
You paused, hand on the door. You didn’t look back.
“What’s been done to treat it before? It’ll help me narrow down a more effective medicine.”
You huffed, hiding your distraught behind a veil of humor.
“Nothing. Been rawdoggin this bitch the way God intended” you said, keeping your voice light. You heard a snort behind you.
“I’ll give you what I use then. We’ll start with that.”
You froze. I’m not alone? He has it too? You turned slowly in shock. He met your gaze.
“If it doesn’t seem to work, call me, and we’ll try something different. Eventually if we exhaust all the medicine, there is a more radical solution. It’s for treatment resistant forms of depression.” You took a few steps toward him.
“Why do you call it an illness? Aren’t I just weak?”
A small, soft smile escaped Law’s lips as he looked at you in a rare moment of gentleness.
“No. You’re not weak. It has to do with chemicals in your brain. Doctors aren’t exactly sure what triggers it, and it’s usually triggered by different things in different people. But it’s a chemical imbalance that occurs, and the medicine is to help correct that balance. Of course, talking to people is also incredibly important. Have you talked to anyone in your crew about it?”
You shook your head absently, mystified that there was a real reason you felt this way.
“No. They don’t know. They might suspect, but I’ve never said anything. I couldn’t bring myself to tell sweet, innocent Chopper that I wanted to hurt myself on purpose” you said easily.
“Have you?”
You flinched at the question, wrapping your arms around your middle.
“Does it matter?”
“Yes”
You glared at him.
“A little” you finally muttered.
“How?”
“Does that matter?” you said defensively.
“As your doctor, yes” he said gently. You bit the inside of your lower lip to stop yourself from spouting venom. He’s not attacking you or demanding to know for selfish reasons. He needs to know. You took a deep breath and slunk over to your previous seat to collapse in it. You held your head in your hands.
“I try not to, you know. I resist for as long as possible until I finally can’t find any logic against not doing it” you say eventually.
“How do you do it?” he repeats, softly. You sigh, looking to the side. You tell him. The words just flow out, accompanying the tear tracks down your cheeks in a delicate dance of pain and regret. When you’re done explaining, he stands slowly, approaching you slowly.
“I’m going to check the healing of it. That’s all. I just want to be sure it’s healing properly so you don’t have further issues when you’re better” he said softly, holding out a hand. I wish it didn’t heal you thought before pushing the negativity away.
“You sound so sure I’m going to get better” you said as his hands delicately grazed over the area.
“You will. Maybe not cured, but better.” You hummed, welcoming the companionable silence. A thought occurred to you, and you snorted. Law stepped back and raised a brow.
“Something funny?”
“Isn’t it ironic that the so-called ‘Surgeon of Death’ is helping me with… this?” you said, waving your hand in the air as if to gesture to your mental state. He rolled his eyes.
“Yes, yes. Very funny” he said flatly.
“Well at least I’m that” you teased.
“You’re so much more than that. If you can’t see it, trust those around you to. They see you the same way you see the positives in others” Law said, holding your gaze. You stopped breathing, eyes widened with shock.
“What, have you never had anyone tell you that?” he asked, looking at your expression. He leaned back against his desk, halfway sitting on it as he crossed his arms. You could only shake your head as you remembered to breathe. He grunted.
“Well. Remember it. Come back here same time tomorrow to pick up the medicine too. We’ll talk a little more too.”
You didn’t move, too shook that someone cared about you enough to do this.
“I’m sorry” you whispered. Tears gathered in your eyes again.
“Why?” Law seemed bewildered at the idea.
“I must’ve manipulated you somehow to care about me. To go through this… you don’t have to. It’s okay. I’ll be fine. I’ll live”
“I guarantee I am the last person on this ship you could manipulate” he said. Something warm and slightly heavy plopped on your head. A white hat brim entered your field of vision. You shrunk down further, starting to sob.
“You’re part of my crew, even temporarily. Even if I wasn’t your captain, I’m your doctor. You only told me the symptoms that you hide so well, not even saying at first that it was you who had it. How could you have manipulated me?”
He knelt in front of you, producing a tissue and handing it to you. He rested his hand on your head, securing his hat.
“If you see a good person who’s sick, would you help them if you could?” he asked gently. You nodded slightly, wiping the snot dripping from your nose.
“Then why wouldn’t I help you? You deserve basic human decency and respect, you know. Right now, you’re treating yourself worse than your enemies.” He said softly. Your sobs increased at his words. He sighed.
“C’mere.” He lifted you up bridal style and took your seat, holding you on his lap. You pushed him away.
“Hey. It’s okay. You’re not hurting me. You’re not manipulating me. I’m doing this of my own accord. When’s the last time you had a real hug like this?”
You shuddered in a breath, unable to speak through your sobs. His warm hand rubbed your back, and you let your head fall onto his shoulder.
“T-t-thank… you” you wailed.
“Always” he muttered.
--
“Are they okay?!” Shachi whisper-yelled as Law passed him the hallway with you cradled in his arms.
“They will be” he replied quietly. He didn’t want to disturb your tear-induced sleep. You looked peaceful, finally. He saw the pain in your eyes, the pain you had inflicted on yourself. Shachi nodded in understanding and continued on his way. Law carried you gently to your bunk and tucked you under the blankets. He removed his hat, knowing it would make you feel guilty if he let you sleep with it. Smoothing stray hair away from your face with his hand, he unthinkingly dropped a gentle kiss on your forehead. A light blush dusted his cheeks with the realization of what he’d done. He stood quickly and walked quietly from your sleeping form.
“Sleep well”
#one piece x reader#trafalgar law#trafalgar one piece#trafalgardwaterlaw#trafalgar d law x reader#one piece fluff#fluff#tw depressing stuff#tw self doubt#tw self harm#angst and fluff#feels#one piece feels#one piece fanfiction#no smut#romance if you squint#you're not alone
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On today’s episode of who feels like their parents hate them!
It’s me, I feel like my parents hate me
Anyway I’m gonna draw because obviously my self worth is tied directly to how good at art I am
#dissociative identity disorder#endos dni#osddid#system#traumagenic system#max talks#max misses his parents#maxs angst post#tw vetn#tw self doubt#maxs vents
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Guys, who let him have children???
Better pray to your deities that Colress doesn't ice more cities for sending this kid hate mail...
Why am I suddenly getting so much hate mail? Do you guys seriously not understand the concept of alternate realities? Or are we ragging on me for simply existing? Is the idea that a Colress has family that tolerates him that abhorrent?
Maybe coming here was a mistake... There's few universes where things turn out this well for Dad... The vast majority of his counterparts...
//Once again, self-sent.
//I should probably make a tag for this.
#arc: pointless rotumblr drama#pokemon#asked and answered#pokemon irl#pokeblr#rotomblr#rotumblr#pokeblog rp#tw self doubt
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Why is Sidon so frowny? He is an dazzling person… so why isn’t he sparkling emotionally? If Sidon can’t be happy then why can I? I haven’t done anything to deserve it… I am just here… another weight to carry…
#irl pkmn#pkmn irl#irl pokemon#pkmn rp#pokemon irl#rotomblr#tw self doubt#//ooc: hehe I love foreshadowing
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Spent a few hours with my girl, our mutual friend, and her boyfriend. I'm going to get really sad sounding so beware <3
Why don't I fit? I love this girl so much and I want to be a part of her life but I feel like I just don't fit. We spent time with our one mutual friend and I couldn't help but feel like an outlier. Who am I if I can't even fit with our friend and her boyfriend? How is she supposed to want that?
I'm not evem good enough. She deserves someone who can be there for her all the time and doesn't have these stupid complications and instead she's stuck with me.
How long is it going to be until she realizes I'm way to much work? Until she's finally had enough of me? I can hardly function as a person and she has her own issues to deal with, she doesn't need another.
I'm drowning in self doubt right now. I love her so much it makes me crazy, but I think I might be too much for her. It feels like just a matter of time before it's over.
#wonder is having sad girl hours#i'm spiraling#maybe don't read this if you don't want to deal with big feelings#tw rant#tw self doubt
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I’ve been thinking today about how I have to remind myself that I do actually have friends but my brain always follows that with “yeah but most of them don’t care that much about you/you’re not the first friend they think of”
#bitchcat speaks#vent#anxiety#anxiety depression#social anxiety#social anxiety disorder#anxiety disorder#depression#mental issues#mental illness#mental health#loneliness#lonely#depressed#tw self doubt#tw selfhate
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TW: intrusive thoughts. self-hate and -doubt. insecurity.
—- + -—
I’ve always seen countless F/O imagines with a repeated (and correct) theme of “Your F/O loves you.” Let’s make it known that I appreciate that, I really do, but…
What happens the moment the Voices in your head ask “Why?”
“You don’t even know my F/O! I doubt they’d love me. And even in the slim chance they did, I don’t see a reason why they’d love this half-human screw up—”
Stop.
Breathe.
I assure you that your F/O doesn’t care if this is the 9,999th time you come to them, they'll always be there because you make their life brighter just by being. Try to exist— right here, right now— for a minute or two and whittle those voices away to the best of your ability (and don’t worry if the best you can do is “nothing”). Your F/O can see how hard you’re trying, but they aren’t with you because they think you can move mountains; they yearn to share their life with you because you’re you. Dear reader, there is simply no other reason.
Your F/O won’t think twice about your trauma, whether it comes from a horror-like past or because you stared passive-aggressively at a dog the other day and feel guilty about it. They just know it affects you and they won’t hesitate to comfort (and spoil) you like there’s no tomorrow. Your F/O doesn’t care if you feel like you’re going through Hell everyday and “whine about it too much” or are “too clingy”, they’re your safe space. They’re perfectly content knowing that when you falter, they’ll be there to catch their beloved and give you a place to rest your head, if only for a minute.
Your F/O sees you in a way you can’t imagine. They accept every magnificent part of you that you call a flaw, thanking whatever celestial force they believe in that they have the pleasure of knowing you. Those Voices inside your head are lying, and just the idea of them being right is something your F/O could never fathom, but they’ll more than happily rush to prove to you how wrong the Voices are.
Your F/O has no wish to stop sweeping those incorrect thoughts away, so please let them. They full-heartedly know they’re doing important work.
#if I see someone insulting themselves in the replies or smth I swear their F/Os will burst through the wall through sheer force of will#anyway yeah coming from an author with intrusive thoughts#I’ve never found an F/O post that centers on that “why?”#whenever my mind is being really loud I just. lay down and cry X’D#I don’t want anyone else to have to feel that tho#so I wrote#imagine your comfort character#imagine your f/o#f/o prompts#f/o x s/i#romantic f/o#self shipping#tw intrusive thoughts#tw selfhate#tw self doubt#my writing
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When your really bad at reading ppl and their a vv emotionless person in general on top of that and all you want to do is make them happy so you try and guess what their thinking but then they get mad at you for that so you stop trying to guess but then they also get mad at you for that but if you try and ask them to tell you what their feeling they say no which you can’t argue with bc you want to be respectful of their boundaries but that just leave you constantly stressing out if their mad at you and never feeling like enough for them
#god i have so many thoughts#borderline personality disorder#bpd feels#bpd stuff#mentally ill#bpd love#bpd problems#anxitey#omg i hate this#bpd vent#tw abuse#tw self doubt#mental illness
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If there's a god, you guys are doing his/her/their work, man.
Systemcringe is a fucking plague. It made our host fall back into questioning and denial and it actually made our little doubt her own existence. Being able to show them your posts helps a lot - thanks!
- Shane
No problem! It's honestly shitty how many systems have this exact same experience, maybe we should make some positivity posts too. Idk, does that sound like a good idea? Maybe it could be a special day like Positivity Post Friday or something
#neon mods#moxxi.txt💔#not debunking#ask response#pro endo#anti endo dni#endo safe#plural blog#plurality#actually plural#anti cringe culture#sysmeds dni#tw religious mention#tw swearing#tw self doubt
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I keep looking at the self harm tags out of some kind of morbid curiosity and I regret it every time. Every day looking and reading and thinking "oh, maybe I should do that", and as soon as I stop and think of how fucked up that is, I want to cry
Maybe now I'd have a better chance of knowing if a friend is doing it, but that doesn't make me feel any better
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There's very loud voices telling me I'm faking then an alter telling me to stop looking at stuff because I'm gonna be like "yeah I'm fake none of you exist" and another alter says "don't even bother, she's not gonna listen" then I just
😐
#tag 🛵#sTOP IT#tw self doubt#tw fakeclaiming#dissociative identity disorder#polyfrag#polyfrag system#did#polyfrag did#the voices are loud but my syssis is louder#kinda blurry so sorry if this makes no sense
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How did I even get to this forest before? Maybe it has something to do with that small green Pokémon that gave me a phone… I don’t know. I just… want to hide away with Ocean like I used to… if nobody cares maybe I should hide away forever
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I love, love, LOVE your stories about Cross’buir. I love watching Cross grow into himself as a parent and just accepting that role. Hands down my favorite scenes are with him and his pregnant wife. It’s a very delicate and emotional time for them and the stories are SO sweet, always kind of bittersweet, and romantic, and just full of undying support two people have for each other despite all they’ve been through. It’s very mature in that way. I can never get enough. What you’ve got is special.
It’s very important to me and I can’t really explain why I’m so invested. Personally I love how different their relationship is to Hunter and Cyare’s; it’s like night and day. It definitely feels more intimate, it definitely has more mature themes (it’s kind of more heartbreaking). I can’t really write “stories” - these days I don’t even consider myself a “writer.” But there are these scenes, in my head, for Crosshair and his wife specifically, that are condensed and meant to convey a very specific emotion, and I try to capture that as best as I can. For me it’s all about centering around this one particular point or feeling and pouring my heart into it. Sometimes, a lot of times, it doesn’t always flesh out, but I’m happy it is well-received. I can’t quite fathom it, to be honest.
I think it’s important for me, when I’m considering Crosshair in his parental role and just Crosshair by himself, that I showcase him in such a way that centers around a very inward, personal reflection, and lesson, in that he should never be afraid of who he is. Who he could be, outside of what he was created for.
((Disclaimer: This is not me saying I believe the only option for Clones outside of soldiering is fatherhood and domesticity. Not at all. I’m simply stating this in accordance with the plot I have created personally that is localized to one particular character.))
I feel like we all go through points in time where we have to accept roles we aren’t truly comfortable with, ones where we feel ill-equipped, and we have to learn to adapt and navigate them to the best of our abilities. That’s the burden of responsibility, and maturity. It’s not so much you view it in a negative light, it’s that you do the best you can with it and find the takeaway. And you grow. And you be better. I think that’s what I’ve tried to convey in Crosshair. He has this dangerously stubborn and defiant streak where he bucks at the first sign of responsibility and what he deems to be an inconvenience, something that threatens his contingency, and it gets him in trouble. He’s a superior soldier but he’s full of self-doubt. He inherently vilifies himself and that bleeds into everything he does outside of soldiering, and I personally can relate to that.
So this bleeds into his role of fatherhood; it’s the single, scariest obstacle in his life because of who he paints himself out to be; the relationships he strains because of it. He offers this rubric of dissent and tells everyone to take it or leave it. Until he’s brought back to reality - humility - in a very harsh but necessary way.
And so anyway, he and his wife’s relationship is a long, hard road. They’re together an upwards of ten years before Asher comes into the picture. They’ve had a lot of time to get their shit together, to fall apart, to regress, to grow. As a result they’ve built up a unique support for each other over the years. The pregnancy brings out a very raw, vulnerable side of Crosshair that maybe needed to come out, and maybe never would have otherwise. ((Again, not saying fatherhood/parenting is the only or even primary form of self-growth.))
So I’m rambling here as per usual but my point to all this nonsense is, I appreciate messages like this. I so appreciate it. Makes me feel like my brain is not all rotten and bad.
#jfjdjdhshsh#idek anymore#but yeah anyway#pregnant crosshair and auntie ftw#I’ll be here all week#tw relationships#tw self doubt#tw parenthood#tw pregnancy#soft sniper sunday#sniper sunday#crossverse#domestic!crosshair#dom!crosshair#ram’ser husband#crosshair and auntie#crosshair x heartfire#crosshair x delana#cross’buir#crosshair#clone trooper crosshair#tbb crosshair#anon/nonny#it’s a lil thing
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