Sanders Sides Imagines

Paper (Anxiety)

WARNING: DEPRESSION, SELF-HARM, MENTION OF HAVING AUTISM BEING AN INSULT IN ONE OF THE FAKE YOUTUBE COMMENTS I CREATED

It was all too much. Everything seemed to be pushing you over the edge.

You've been cutting for years, but it seemed to stop for a while. You had met someone, and everything seemed so amazing.

Now, being called "Anxiety" might make it seem like he's a bad match for a depressed person, but you made each other happier and less...dark.

Unfortunately, that had to come back like a boomerang to the face.

People on social media began battering you with insults since you became friends and started doing videos with Thomas and his personalities. They said you were worthless, stupid, unfunny, annoying, and a bombardment of other insults that made you want to curl up in a ball and die.

You finally couldn't take it anymore when you released that you were dating Anxiety, and the death threats started flooding in. You started cutting again, in secret. Anxiety didn't know, and you didn't intend for him to find out.

You had made the mistake of scrolling through some comments on Thomas's most recent collab with you and the guys, showing a two second cuddly moment between you and Anxiety:

dottygirl200: oh my god, she is so disgusting. I can't believe Anxiety even wants HER.

StupidNerdRage: What a fuckin loser. Y/N should just go die in a hole.

Dusk24601: What is her problem? She's so stupid! Does she have autism?

Yeah, the comments were really hurtful. That was only a few bad ones. You broke down crying and ran to the bathroom, slamming the door but forgetting to lock it.

You took one of Thomas's unused razor blades sat on the bathroom floor, pulling up your sleeve shakily to see all of the faded scars that would soon be new again.

The more cuts you sliced into your arm, the more you began to feel like a piece of paper. Fragile, cuttable. You could fly away in the wind and nobody would give you a second thought.

You must've spent way too much time in there, because someone began knocking.

"Y/N? It's me, darling. You alright in there?" Anxiety spoke through the door.

"U-Uh, yeah, I-I'm fine!" You stuttured, standing up quickly and immediately holding a hand to your head as you became dizzy.

"Are you sure? You've been in there a while..." he asked, concerned.

"Um, yeah. I-I'll be right out. One sec..." You turned on the sink and began trying to wash off your arm, the water stinging.

You didn't expect the door to open. You didn't expect Anxiety to see you trying to wash away the evidence. But you mostly didn't expect him to immediately tear up and pull you into a giant bear hug.

"Y/N, I know people online are mean. They're always going to say mean things about anything and anybody. I have my fair share of hate, too. And...i know im not really the happiest person in the world, but all I want is for you to be happy. Thomas, Logan, Roman, and Morality all love you. I love you. And we all want you to be happy in your skin. You can talk to any of us about anything. Please, next time try to talk to us instead of resorting to this...I hate seeing you like this. You look so vulnerable, so fragile...I want to see my strong, beautifully happy girlfriend again..."

He took your arms and got a wet rag, carefully cleaning the blood. He kissed each scar gently before kissing both of your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, and finally your lips. You felt calmer, more relaxed. Anxiety, ironically, always knew how to make you feel better.

If you were paper, he was your paperweight. He kept you from floating away.