This one is more of a cathartic work than a comfort work, but if you need an outlet or something to call you out then you have certainly come to the right place. This is a part of some quick blurbs I wrote while I wait to post my longer fic requests :)
[TW, PLEASE READ, I cannot stress enough how triggering this fic could be. It is written mainly from an overthinking, self hatred, train of thought pov and its filled with terrible things about readers self image. It doesn't have any comfort at the end, only crying. Again, it's more of a vent fic than a comfort fic, please don't read if you think it will trigger you. If i missed any tw pls let me know. Feel free to reqiest a blurb in my asks ! <3]
Modern! James potter x Fem! reader-
"Pretty Girls"
It had been four hours. Four full hours of you scrolling through tiktok only to find every girl who was prettier, skinnier, and better than you. You had tears in your eyes, but you couldn't find it in you to stop scrolling. You had to figure out how they did it, you need to know how to make yourself look like they did and talk like they did and smile like they did and walk like they did and move like they did. You had to make yourself be like them.
James knocked gently on the bathroom door, "Baby," he started, "It's been awhile, are you okay?"
Of course you weren't okay. They were pretty. They were skinny. They has straight teeth. They weren't sitting alone on the cold bathroom floor praying that they could fall asleep and wake up in a different body.
"Love?"
And James, poor James. He's so perfect, so correct. He deserved a pretty girlfriend, He deserved someone who could make him feel good. Someone who wouldn't hurt him when they sat on him, someone who knew what they were doing and could do anything they set their mind to.
"I'm coming in okay?"
The door knob clicked as it opened. You didn't hear it. You couldn't see the concerned look on James' face through your tears. You couldn't feel his hands on your shoulder, in fact, the only thing you could feel was the bile raising in your throat. You felt weird, you felt gross. You felt so full of hatred towards yourself and you didn't know where to put it. You didn't know what to do with it.
"Hey, look at me. What's wrong?"
You looked at him, but it only made you feel worse. He was so pretty. You focused on the feeling of his hand on your shoulder. It was a nice hand, a great hand even. You didn't deserve that hand.
All of a sudden all that you could think of was to get away from him. You were going to contaminate him with your grossness. You couldn't do that. You pulled your shoulder closer toward yourself and pulled your knees up into a ball. When James tried to move closed you swatted at him with your arms,
"No, no, no, g- go away."
You could barely get words out. You didn't want to speak. You didn't have a good enough voice to speak. You wanted to be gone, you wished more than anything that you could disappear. You put your head against your knees and cried. You cried and you cried and you cried and you didn't stop.
James didn't try to touch you again. He sat back against the wall opposite of you and cried with you. He didn't cry because he didn't want you. He didn't cry because you swatted him away. He cried because you were in pain and he didn't know how to make it stop.
