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blackshadowswriter · 2 years ago

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hi I wanna request where matt is about stressed out from work and his night activities and the reader (she/she pronouns) tries to help him out by riding him but she can't since he's so big, so matt says stuff like "what? can't even ride a cock? you dumb slut need me to fuck you?". and he just absolutely ruins her, hope you have a good day, thanks:)

Destressed┃Matt Murdock

Summary: Matt is stressed out about work, so naturally you do the one thing that helps him unwind. You ride him until he fucks you himself.

Warnings: smut: oral sex (male receiving), rough p in v sex, dom!Matt, degradation, bit of a taste kink, choking, dirty talk, and all the good stuff

Words: 3,068

AN: After like a month of not posting, I present this utter whore of a fic to all you thirsty bitches (it's me, I'm those thirsty bitches). Thanks for the request, anon, and I just want to let you know that I spat out my water when I got it.

You found him on the sofa with a pile of braille papers scattered around him and his computer on his lap. He had a frown edged on his face, the absence of his shaded glasses exposing the tightness around his eyes. Wound up with stress, his shoulders were squared as he slumped over several stacks of paperwork along with more on his laptop.

"Hey," you called out to him, gently shutting his apartment door behind you, dropping your bag by the door and making your way over to him.

"Hey, sweetheart," Matt murmured, looking distracted as he lifted his head from his work. "What are you doing here so early? I thought you weren't coming by until later."

"I brought you dinner," you explained, setting the takeout bag on his counter before padding over to him.

"I could smell that," he said, picking up a few stacks of paper and setting them on the side table to make room for you on the couch next to him. "But I thought you didn't get off work until later tonight."

You shrugged, settling down on the couch besides him and reaching over to kiss him. An eager groan rippled from his throat into your mouth at your touch as you lightly ran your hands through his soft, dark locks. "Got off early," you said when you pulled away to examine Matt in more detail, frowning at the terseness of his form. "You looked stressed."

He huffed out a humorless laugh. "I am," he agreed. "We had three more clients come in today. That's only adding to the pile we already had."

"Can I help?" you asked sympathetically.

Matt shook his head. "It's okay, we'll get through them. We always do."

You sighed, leaning over to kiss him again. "I don't like it when you're stressed," you admitted. "It's not good for you."

He shrugged, and you had to admit telling the man who beat people up every night that stress was not good for him sounded kinda stupid. "I'll be fine," he said, looking very much not fine. The dark circles under his eyes told you he hadn't been sleeping much. His shoulders were tight as though his workload were a physical weight on them. He hadn't shaved in a few days, so you could run your fingers along his jaw and feel the scrape of his stubble against your hand.

It was utterly unfair, you decided, how Matt could still look so gorgeous even when he was tired and stressed out. You didn't look half this hot when you were stressed. But this scruffy, slightly rumpled look on Matt had you so weak in the knees, you were lucky that you were sitting. He was still in his white dress shirt from work, the top few buttons of it undone and his tie loosened around his neck. He looked so entirely fuckable.

You blinked, surprised by your own thoughts. Jesus, where did that come from? Well, it wasn't your fault, not when Matt was sitting there looking like that.

As if sensing where your thoughts had turned, Matt tilted his head towards you, a little smirk lifting the corners of his lips up. He reached over, sliding his arm around your waist and pulling you towards him. "What's gotten into that pretty little head of yours, hmm?" he asked, grinning at your hands tugging at his tie.

"I think I know a way I can help you destress," you said sweetly, dragging your nails down his hard abs, half drooling at the way his dress shirt stretched across the muscular expanse of his chest.

"Yeah?" he murmured, his large hands sliding up your shirt to glide along your skin slowly. There was a hungry gleam in his dark eyes as he licked his lips slowly. "What's that?"

You smiled coyly, reaching over to pluck his laptop from his hands and place it on the side table before climbing onto his lap. "Oh," you giggled, dragging the word out even as your hands swiftly unbuckled his pants. "I don't know."

Matt groaned when you unzipped his dress pants and slid your hand down to palm at his hardening length. "Careful, sweetheart," he warned, his grip tightening on your waist. "You might just get what you want."

Worming out of his grasp, you sank down to your knees in front of him, biting back another laugh. Keeping your eyes fixed on Matt's blank ones that were focused somewhere around your lips, you carefully tugged his pants and his boxers down to his thighs, wrapping your hand around his thick cock. "Maybe I want that," you replied sweetly.

Before Matt could reply, you licked a stripe up the underside of his cock, and his hips jerked up eagerly, a whispered curse falling from his lips. You swirled your tongue over the head of his cock and the precum dripping from the tip, licking the taste of him up into your mouth. In no mood for your teasing tonight, Matt groaned harshly, his hand knotting in your hair to push your head down towards his cock.

You obeyed, giving him what he wanted and taking as much of his throbbing length into your mouth as you could manage. The throaty moan that Matt let out at the wet, hot embrace of your mouth went straight to your dripping cunt, making you squeeze your thighs together tightly.

The slick noise of your mouth sliding up and down his cock echoed through Matt's living room like a filthy melody in his ears. He panted, rolling his hips up eagerly against you as you took him deeper until he was nearly down your throat. You kept up the pace, dragging your mouth along his cock and swirling your tongue around the head, sending thick molten lines of pleasure arcing down his spine. Rough groans and stuttering pants fell from Matt's mouth when you sped up the slick motions of your mouth along his deliciously thick cock.

"Ah! F-fuck," he stammered, his hand tightening in your hair, the hot pulses of pleasure up and down his cock coming dangerously close to his climax. "Fuck," he hissed again, tugging your head back off his cock. "Get up here, sweetheart."

You hurried to obey, climbing up onto his lap and straddling him. Left in only your panties, you slowly ground your cunt against his cock, dragging the soaked fabric against the burning line of him. Matt moaned with you, his large hands sliding up your body to cup your breasts, flicking his fingers over your hardened nipples. You whimpered quietly, your rhythm stuttering for the slightest moment.

Matt tugged at your panties. "Get these off," he growled.

You hasten to obey, peeling your wet panties off your legs and tossing them aside, uncaring of where they ended up. When you straddled Matt again, your dripping cunt hovering just inches over his thick cock, he stopped from sinking down onto him and dragged his fingers along your slit in a slow, aching line that had you whimpering and bucking your hips into his hand at the way his fingertips just barely grazed your clit. But after just one stroke up your cunt, Matt pulled his fingers away despite your desperate whine and brought them up to his lips.

And oh, you nearly collapsed as you watched him drag his tongue along the glistening slick from you on his fingers, watched the way his eyes rolled back into his head at the taste of you, watched his face morphing into one of utter bliss, the filthiest moan falling from his lips as he sucked your wetness off his fingers.

"Oh my God," you whimpered, trembling at the sight in front of you.

"Sweetheart," Matt rumbled when he removed his fingers from his mouth. "You taste so good."

"Fuck," you panted. "Shit—y-you have no idea how fucking hot that was."

A sinful smirk curved along his lips as his hand found its way back to your waist. "Yeah?" he murmured, brushing his thumb along the inside of your thigh, the minimal contact driving you insane. "Why don't you show me then, hmm? Ride my cock for me, pretty girl."

You didn't think you had ever obeyed an order faster in your life. Hurriedly, you were grasping his thick, heavy cock in your hand, lining him up against your entrance, and slowly sinking down onto him. A ragged moan was all either of you could manage with the slick, deliciously hot pleasure pushing into you and engulfing him.

An embarrassingly loud moan slipped from your mouth at the way Matt filled you up so perfectly when you sank all the way down on him. He was panting too, nothing but blazing fire and heat burning in his eyes as you took every single inch of his cock. The stretch of him felt so deliciously good, finally satiating the ache in your core.

"Matty," you gasped, unable to move for a moment as you tried to accustom yourself to his massive girth. "I—ah!—fuck, you're so big—"

"Thought I told you to ride my cock, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice dark and low when you didn't move for another few seconds. He leaned forward to brush his lips against your ear, hot breath drifting over the side of your neck. "Don't you want to be a good girl for me?"

"Y-yes," you whined. "God yes, please Matty."

His hand slithered up and grasped your chin in his large hand as Matt smiled, slow and dangerous as a predator. "Then ride my fucking cock," he ordered.

With a low whimper vibrating along your throat, you forced yourself to move even though your legs felt like jelly. Lifting yourself off his throbbing length as far as you could, you sank back down quickly onto him, moaning eagerly as you tried to ride him faster and harder.

But fuck, he was so big, and each time you ground back down on his cock, he stretched you open until you felt impossibly wide, nearly split open in the best way possible at how fucking thick he was inside of you. Your hips stuttered with your shaky rhythm as shuddering moans racked your body.

Matt's grip on your waist was almost painfully tight as you fucked yourself on his cock, his plush lips falling open slightly with each rock of your hips. He groaned out stammered praises of your name, the syllables rolling off his tongue like a sweet melody.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he panted. "That's it, you're doing so well for me. Riding my cock so well, baby."

"M-Matty," you whimpered when you rolled your hips down onto him again, and the tip of his cock grazed against something overwhelming inside of you. A broken moan spilled from your lips as your pace faltered on shaking legs, trying to accommodate his thick, aching length. "I-I need you to—to fuck me, please."

He let out a rough laugh at that, gripping your chin and yanking your head down to look at him, eyes dark and burning with liquid heat as Matt bared his teeth into a feral smirk. "What? Can't even ride my cock? You dumb slut, need me to fuck you?" he snarled.

His harsh words startled you for a moment, but what was even more startling was the way your body responded to him. A shameless moan tumbled from your lips without your permission as you clenched around him, shuddering as another gush of your wetness coated his cock.

Matt laughed again, letting go of your chin to slid his hand down to your throat, loosely wrapping his hand around your neck. "You liked that, didn't you, hmm? You like it when I talk to you like that, pretty girl? I can feel how wet you get when I call you my dumb little whore."

Another shaky whimper from your throat vibrated against Matt's palm holding your neck. You gripped his broad shoulders as you trembled on top of him. "Please," you choked out, grinding down on his cock even though Matt was fully engulfed in you. "I need it, Matt, please."

"What do you need, sweetheart? Use your words for me, and I'll give you what you want."

"I need you to fuck me," you nearly sobbed, aching and desperate for him. "God, I need it so bad, Matt—please, please, please—just fuck me—I need your cock, I need you to—"

You didn't even finish your sentence before Matt was surging upwards, flipping you around so suddenly that the world spun around you until your back hit the seat of the sofa beneath you. Matt was on top of you, kneeling between your legs where he was still completely sheathed inside of you with your legs locked around his waist. There was a single moment where he brushed his thumb against your cheek tenderly, and that was it.

He dragged his hips back slowly, and you almost cried at the feeling of him leaving you—and then he was slamming back inside of you, and the next thing you knew, Matt was fucking you into the sofa with brutal, powerful strokes reaching so deep inside of you that you could have sworn stars exploded in the corners of your vision. You would have screamed if you had the breath, but the way his cock was pounding into you absolutely punched the air out of your lungs. The most you could manage was a strangled shout before you were gasping and clawing at the worn leather underneath your fingers, trying to find something to hold onto while Matt utterly wrecked you.

And then Matt was pulled you even closer to him, never mind the fact that you were already trapped between his strong arms, and the slight change in position was enough for his cock to drive into you at a whole new angle. His next thrust ground the head of his cock up into something earth-shattering inside of you, and your body jolted underneath him as though you had been struck by lightning. A hoarse moan, bordering on a scream, tore from your throat, followed by stammered gasps of Matt's name, falling over and over again from your lips.

Your smaller hands grasped at his forearm of the hand that was wrapped around your throat, blunt nails digging into the hard muscle of his arm as your eyes squeezed shut. Each one of his hard, fast thrusts was driving up you further and further towards your peak like a wave receding before it crashed.

Groaning in sweet delight with each slam of his hips, Matt stuttered out our name between his primal grunts as he fucked into you. "Sweetheart," he slurred, sounding as drunk on this pleasure as you were. "Fuck, honey, you feel so good—so fucking good."

"Matt," you gasped out, unable and unwilling to move from underneath him where he had pinned you down with the sharp, driving rhythm of his hips. He seemed to have realized that he had found your g-spot, and now he was just pounding mercilessly into you there, the pleasure of it so sharp and overwhelming it completely stole your breath away. Fire was coursing like liquid lava through your veins, going straight to your brain and making your head spin. Choked, ragged moans were all you could squeeze out from your throat, constricted from both Matt's hand around it and this utterly devastating pleasure ripping through you.

"So tight for me, sweetheart," Matt grunted. "Fuck—I can feel you squeezing me like that—ah!"

A strangled sob echoed through the room as you dug your heels into Matt's hips, encouraging him further. His pace picked up until he was fucking you so hard, the sofa was slowly sliding across the floor in small, stuttered skids.

"Such a good girl," he praised. "Taking my cock so well, baby."

You cried his name out again as he drove his cock up again, slamming straight into that spot with brutal accuracy, and then you were shouting—screaming—hoarsely as orgasm suddenly surged up over you, burning hot and furious as it scorched its way through every single nerve in your body. Your hands clawed uselessly at his forearm as you sobbed and twitched around him, clenching hard around his cock still pounding into you even as your vision went completely white for a few moments. That bone-deep pleasure was blazing deep inside of you, searing and branding itself on your fucking soul.

"Oh my fucking God, Matt!"

Matt's pace grew rough and frantic as your cunt continued fluttering around him even while the tendrils of orgasm were slowly receding from your limp form. He was panting and groaning your name, but the sound of it was muffled by the blood rushing in your ears. He drove into you once—twice—three more times, and then he was moaning brokenly against your throat where he'd pressed his face against your neck. You hadn't even noticed when he had he removed his hand from there, too caught up in your own bliss.

He buried himself inside of you to the hilt, and his body shook on top of yours as he finally let go, weeks of stress melting off his shoulders as he emptied himself in you, hot spurts of his release filling you up until he had nothing left to give you.

With a satisfied groan, Matt dropped his head into the curve of your neck with a low, almost reverent whisper of "sweetheart." Even though your arms, along with the rest of your body, were practically putty, you reached up to gently run your fingers through Matt's damp hair.

"Mmm," you hummed lazily. "I might have to thank whichever client got you so stressed because if that's what it takes to get you to fuck me like that...I'm sorry, babe, but I am going to refer Nelson and Murdock to everyone I know."

Matt snorted. "Sweetheart, I'll fuck you anyway you want as long as you don't do that."

"Oh well, in that case..."

You felt his lips curve into a smile against your neck. Matt lifted his head up and kissed you warmly, his pretty dark eyes focused on you. "Thank you for that, sweetheart."

"Oh absolutely. I'm always here if you want to just, you know, ruin me again. Totally down for it anytime."

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AN: Apologies for the very inconsistent posting schedule, I've just been writing whenever I can between work and life and classes and shit, so thanks for bearing with me, yall <3

If you enjoyed, please remember to like, comment, and reblog! 🖤

Matt Murdock Masterlist

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lizziethat · 2 years ago

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I think people are interpreting the jiara dynamic wrong. I personally loved the way both Rudy and Madison played their characters and their dynamic. It’s hard for JJ to just come out and say what he really means. He’s not comfortable with that like Kiara is. Kiara’s vulnerability with him this season shows a level of confidence that she has and that he lacks because of his upbringing. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t care as much as her which is what a lot of people think it means.

I think this is changing a little as people rewatch, but I saw a lot of knee-jerk reactions at first, which is kind of understandable -- you build up things in your head, but it's also pretty unfair. I have the advantage of typically having watched things multiple times before I share my opinions, so I know that my first feeling might not always be what I end up thinking about a specific piece of entertainment.

As for JJ and Kiara, I think JJ has just never been comfortable with real emotions. He jokes around and he'd take a bullet for his friends, but asking him to put into words what he really feels? Torture. And that's because he's grown up in an environment where feelings are weakness and where he isn't and won't be good enough no matter what, so why even try? Rudy has always struck me as someone who understands the wounded parts of JJ and who puts a lot of thought into every little thing JJ does.

Kiara, on the other hand, got to a point in Season 3, after Poguelandia, where she knew what she felt, and she likely knew what JJ felt, too. It's not like he was being all that subtle! And yeah, she's had a better upbringing in the "feeling loved" department. So Kie, knowing him as well as she does, decided that she would be the friend he needed -- wouldn't back down from her feelings, but would give him space if that's what he required. Kiara chose him and then waited for him to choose her, because she understood he needed to do that for himself, but also ...because that's what she deserves. And the more I look at their journey up to Season 3 the more I think the way they came together was just ...perfectly them.

We all care in different ways and JJ's way may be a little chaotic and self-destructive, but that doesn't mean he doesn't care. In fact, people like him often care too much, to the point where he cares more about others than he does himself. That's what he's gotta work on. That's what Kiara asked him to confront in order for them to be together. Because for a relationship to work, he's gotta start loving himself a little -- if only because she can't lose him. Ofc, that's gotta evolve to JJ seeing his own worth outside of his relationship with Kiara, but sometimes the easiest first step is...to try for someone else.

I'm not sure I even answered this, you guys always get me rambling about Jiara. But yes, I think Rudy and Madison understand their characters really well, and I think the journey to 3x09 is actually pretty darn satisfying.

#outer banks #jiara #rudy pankow #madison bailey #kiara carrera #jj maybank

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twoidiotwriters1 · 1 year ago

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Daughter of Olympus (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: October is going way too fast stop it -Danny Words: 2,645 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter / Next Chapter Listen to: 'Hallelujah' -by Oh Wonder

XXI: Prodigal Assholes Return

The fake spider takes us back to Hephaestus, once we're there he stares into space like he's seeing something we can't, then a blast shakes the ground.

"It's done," he turns to us. "You should get going."

"What about Percy?" Annabeth frowns.

"All in due time, missy, but first..." he points at me. "You. Come closer."

The god regards me with a grumpy face, he's always frowning, but this feels judgy. Am I really so annoying? "You're young and weak," he says. "No weapon in that camp of yours will do."

He reaches for something on a nearby workbench and hands it to me: A compass. I keep my palm open, staring at the item in confusion but not daring to ask how a compass can make a good weapon.

"That's Almighty," sounds like a name more than a description. "I made it from scraps of armor of only the greatest heroes. It holds the power of every monster and divine being that ever bled over it. Use it wisely."

I want to retort: "I'm not an idiot, this is a compass", but it feels weird. I could carry this thing in my pocket and forget it's there. This has to be a weapon, I just need to figure out how it works.

"Thank you," I beam. "I don't deserve this..."

"Of course not," a puff of dark smoke comes out of his beard. "You'll do what's needed to deserve it. Don't disappoint me, Jackson, my son's counting on you."

"Going okay?" Piper crouches between their seats.

"Aces," Leo glances at Jason when he stands behind Piper. "So what's the Wolf House?"

"An abandoned mansion in the Sonoma Valley. A demigod built it—Jack London."

"He an actor?"

"Writer. Adventure stuff, right? Call of the Wild? White Fang?"

"Yeah. He was a son of Mercury—I mean, Hermes. He was an adventurer, traveled the world. He was even a hobo for a while. Then he made a fortune writing. He bought a big ranch in the country and decided to build this huge mansion—the Wolf House."

"Named that 'cause he wrote about wolves?"

"Partially. But the site, and the reason he wrote about wolves—he was dropping hints about his personal experience. There're a lot of holes in his life story—how he was born, who his dad was, why he wandered around so much—stuff you can only explain if you know he was a demigod."

"So Jack London went to Camp Half-Blood?" Leo asks.

"No," Jason and Ara share a look. "No, he didn't."

"Bro, you're freaking me out with the mysterious talk. Are you remembering your past or not?"

"Pieces. Only pieces. None of it good. The Wolf House is on sacred ground. It's where London started his journey as a child—where he found out he was a demigod. That's why he returned there. He thought he could live there, claim that land, but it wasn't meant for him. The Wolf House was cursed. It burned in a fire a week before he and his wife were supposed to move in. A few years later, London died, and his ashes were buried on the site."

"At least they didn't burn him with the house, that shows you he was favored..." Ara muses.

Leo snorts. "So it's a common thing for demigods to be blessed with dying?"

"Pretty much," she grins.

"So," Piper looks at Jason. "How do you know all this?"

"I started my journey there too," Jason's blue eyes are getting darker. "It's a powerful place for demigods, a dangerous place. If Gaea can claim it, use its power to entomb Hera on the solstice and raise Porphyrion—that might be enough to awaken the earth goddess fully."

Ara's itch is getting worse. Piper gave her nectar, but she heated up way too quickly. She thinks it's unfair, Piper spent most of the quest feeding on nectar and ambrosia and she was fine.

"Thirty minutes out," Leo announces. "If you want to get some rest, now's a good time."

Jason goes to the back and secures himself before dozing off, but Piper stays with them. Ara tries to get comfortable, but the space is too narrow. "I think I'll join Jason," she sighs. "I don't think sleep will fix me, but maybe it'll freshen me up."

When she gets up, Piper looks at her funny. "When Dad woke up, he told me he saw our mother's eyes in you. He didn't know how to describe them, but I see what he meant."

Ara could say the same thing about Piper's, but when she tries to speak her throat closes up and her gaze gets a little teary, so she moves without saying anything and Piper takes her seat.

Leo winks at her over the aviator glasses. "Get your beauty sleep, doll."

The girl takes the row of seats facing Jason, she's careful to lie on her healthy side. Ara thinks about the exact moment she decided to be more than just an Aphrodite.

Hephaestus sends us back to camp with a snap of his fingers.

Lily hugs me tight and doesn't let go. "How was it? Did you learn anything?"

"Yeah," I whisper. "I have something to show you!"

No one cares about me, they all surround Annabeth and leave me alone. Only one camper apart from Lily notices I'm leaving, and he follows us as I show my friend the compass.

"Lord Hephaestus gave it to me. In person."

"What!" She stares at it in shock. "What did he say?"

"Contains the power of monsters and whatnot," I frown. "He said I didn't deserve it. Not yet."

"You know what this means?"

"The gods are paying attention to her," Michael speaks behind me.

"Hey!" I give him a hug. "Look at this!"

"Made by the god of blacksmith himself..." He examines the compass with an intent gaze.

"He might become your patron," Lily's grey eyes widen in excitement. Michael taps his nose in response, agreeing with her.

"Yeah!" I smile. "There's something I want to try..."

I press the little nob at the top, and the compass grows in size until I'm holding a sword. It has a strange glow that no other weapon has, not even Percy's. As if Hephaestus dipped one of its sides in gold.

"Holy Athena!" Lily gasps. "Hephaestus armed you!"

Michael's eyes sparkle with ambition. "I think it's time we step up your training."

"But I can't stay here," I pout. "My brother's coming back soon, and once he's here we'll go back to the labyrinth."

The others don't look too worried, it's Percy, after all. I swing my weapon around, it feels perfectly balanced.

"This is great, bug," Michael pats my shoulder. "Experience will teach you what we can't."

I notice the Greek Alpha on the handle, I press on it and it goes back to being a compass.

Half an hour after our arrival, we find out about the explosion. I'm in complete denial just like Annabeth. We're talking about Percy, for Poseidon's sake!

"No."

"Ara, this is standard protocol."

"You'll scare her for no reason," I say, voice quivering.

"It's his mom," Chiron insists. "She has to know."

I'm afraid Sally will give me back to camp if Percy dies. I know it's a wild assumption, but I've been living with them for only two years, I barely got used to calling Sally my mom, and I'm growing so fond of Paul... If Percy dies, who can assure me Sally won't resent me?

I do call her, in the end.

"You have to be patient, okay? Percy's probably with Grover and Tyson..."

I agree with her because we both need to hear it. "Yes, Mom."

"Look after yourself, eat and sleep, or they won't let you go back once he shows up..."

"Mom?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, Ara," she cries. "This isn't your fault."

I pour all of my energy into training. Now that I have a sword I'm progressing at an amazing speed. Lily and Michael can tell I need it, but when Quintus disappears, Mrs. O'Leary doesn't allow us to approach the arena as often as before. She appears to be in some kind of distress.

The lava wall became my expertise. I broke the record of fastest climber, beating the Hermes kid who held the title for five years straight. His time was five minutes. Mine's three.

One day while we're training, Clarisse walks past, sees me and Michael, and yells at us, snatching Michael's sword to take his place.

"You," she points at me with the sharp end. "Nice sword."

"Thank you!" I beam. "Hephaestus gave it to me!"

Clarisse glares at me, but she almost looks surprised. "You're jabbing at Michael like you're trying to fish him out of the water."

"She's learning," Mike argues, thinking she's making fun of me. "You're too big for her, Clarisse, it's not fair."

"Newsflash, punk, life isn't fair," she snaps. "She's going back to the labyrinth, she'll fight things that are twice her size."

"You don't think I'm being foolish?" I ask.

My friend shrugs. "I don't judge soldiers by their looks, only their commitment to battle. I've seen how you suck it up when Drew fights you."

Michael frowns. "Drew Tanaka?"

Clarisse attacks me without warning. She's brutal. Every muscle in my body ends up hurting and it's torture, so Michael has to carry me to the infirmary.

We find Chris Rodriguez there, and he's in terrible condition. That explains Clarisse's sudden urge to put me in shape. Michael places me on a bed, and as he teaches me—and Will Solace—how to treat someone after a tough training, he asks me about Drew while applying K-tape on my back.

"So why is she annoying you?"

I sigh. "She's minded her business lately, I think she's decent enough to let me worry about Percy in peace."

"But why was she bullying you?"

"I'm not telling you," I scowl. "I don't want you scheming with Lily—"

"Who said anything about that?" He presses a bag of ice against my wrist. "I just wanna know why I'll be hating Drew from now on."

I stare at him. "I really wish I could believe you."

"Drew doesn't like her because Ara's not a proper Aphrodite" Lily walks into the infirmary playing with her pocket knife.

Michael looks over his shoulder and smiles. "Atta girl!"

"The Stolls told me," Lily continues. Michael tries to take her knife away and she dodges his hand. "They found out she's been bullying Ara ages ago, but the kiddo asked them to stay out of it. Connor was dying to tell me."

I pout. "Bullying is such a dramatic term..."

"It's the right term," Michael raises a brow. "Silena knows about this?"

"No," Lily sits next to me, still playing with the knife. "Drew's a charmspeaker like Ara. She's got everyone scared."

"Silena's got charmspeak too," Mike frowns, removing the bag of ice.

"I don't need help!" I argue. "This is my fight!"

Lily hums. "If you're sure you can take it..."

"I've been through worse," I sulk. "She's not a real problem."

"Tough beast," Mike boops my nose. "Put that away!" He barks at Lily to stop her fidgeting with the sharp blade.

When Ara wakes up, Jason's crouching between Leo and Piper's seats. "Get ready, we've got to be getting close."

There is not much she can do, her left arm is restrained against her body, her clothes are torn, and she's shivering thanks to the snowstorm around them. The only thing intact is her stupid cloak.

"There!" Jason points ahead and the copter makes an abrupt turn.

As they get closer, the sounds of the fight become louder. Ara's instincts kick in and the itch on her arm intensifies, she's ready to join the battle. Leo makes a successful landing in the middle of a clearing, but they spot something large coming straight at them.

"Out!" Jason grabs her and jumps out of the chopper.

He makes sure to land on his back, which is probably not good for him, but it's certainly a relief for Ara's beaten body. The helicopter gets crushed under a gigantic snowball.

Ara pushes herself off of Jason with difficulty. "Thanks..."

"No problem," he coughs.

They go to Piper, who's checking on Leo. He's shivering, Aphrodite took away his jacket when they got sent to California. "Guess we owe that ranger lady a new helicopter."

"Fighting's over there," Piper's about to point when she realizes something. "No... it's all around us."

"Jason! Ara!" Thalia runs up to them.

An Earthborn comes out of nowhere and tries to attack her. Leo shouts a warning and Thalia turns, shooting her last arrow at the creature. As she approaches to retrieve it, she realizes it's broken.

"That was my last one," she stomps on the clay. "Stupid ogre."

"Nice shot, though," Leo comments.

"Just in time," Thalia approaches them with urgency. "My Hunters are holding a perimeter around the mansion, but we'll be overrun any minute."

"By Earthborn?" Jason frowns.

"And wolves—Lycaon's minions. Also storm spirits—"

"But we gave them to Aeolus!" Piper says angrily.

"Who tried to kill us," Leo makes a face. "Maybe he's helping Gaea again."

"I don't know. But the monsters keep re-forming almost as fast as we can kill them. We took the Wolf House with no problem: surprised the guards and sent them straight to Tartarus. But then this freak snowstorm blew in. Wave after wave of monsters started attacking. Now we're surrounded. I don't know who or what is leading the assault, but I think they planned this. It was a trap to kill anyone who tried to rescue Hera."

"It's so good to be back on this bullshit," Ara says. "I was so bummed out after the war, thinking I wouldn't get to experience a painful death..."

Thalia notices the bandages and her eyes widen. "What happened to you?"

Ara's almost the same age as Thalia now, but there's something about her that makes Ara feel like she's still eleven years old.

"Your brother threw lightning at me," she blurts out.

"I didn't!" Jason blushes. "It was an accident!"

"We're sidetracking," Ara interrupts him anxiously. "Thalia, your hunters are too busy to help me, so I'll make do with the arm I've got left. Where's Hera?"

"Inside. We tried to free her, but we can't figure out how to break the cage. It's only a few minutes until the sun goes down. Hera thinks that's the moment when Porphyrion will be reborn. Plus, most monsters are stronger at night. If we don't free Hera soon..."

"Love high stakes, especially when they're about the annihilation of humanity as we know it..." Ara mutters in a bad mood as they walk forward.

Once they enter the ruins, Jason stumbles and Leo catches him. "Hey! None of that, man. What's wrong?"

"This place... Sorry... It came rushing back to me."

"You remembered something?" Ara asks.

Thalia's voice breaks a little. "This is where my mom took us when Jason was a child. She left him here, told me he was dead. He just disappeared."

"She gave me to the wolves, at Hera's insistence. She gave me to Lupa."

"That part I didn't know. Who is Lupa?"

"The Roman version of Chiron, I guess," Ara replies.

The ground shakes as more explosions happen around them.

"Maybe this isn't the time for questions," Leo speaks. "Show us the goddess."

Annabeth finds out I've been training with a new sword and asks if it's the compass Hephaestus gave me. Her face has a shadow of something else than just worry, I think she's proud.

Now she, Clarisse, Beckendorf, Lily, and Michael are training me. Some are trying to distract themselves, the others are trying to distract me.

Beckendorf is over the moon when I tell him I met his father. "He thinks you're fit for the forges!"

"Does he?" I ask skeptically.

"Come!" He insists. "I'll teach you how to give maintenance to the chariots..."

Cabin Nine begins to treat me like a real apprentice, not someone trying to avoid her actual chores. Michael doesn't go easy on me either. These two weeks could've been my most prolific at camp, but Percy's still missing, and each passing day feels like a stronger confirmation of his demise.

I read Lily's book of myths to pass the time (and not think about Percy), there are pages missing, but I don't know what those are about, the index has been censored with black marker.

Next Chapter ->

Taglist.

siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @ash-the-hoarder @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris

#twoidiots writing #pjo fanfic #pjo hoo toa #pjo fandom #percy jackson and the olympians #leo valdez x oc #leo valdez fanfic #doo

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yorozuyaxxangelsxxicons · 1 year ago

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Gintama Sentence Starters: Serious Edition

Gintoki: "Sake sure is nice. You can forget all your troubles, if only for a moment. You'll have to remember them tomorrow, though. You can't run away from things like this. Especially... especially from the things you really want to forget." "Don't run away! You yourself have to change first, or nothing will change for you! You can't just run away, especially from the things you really want to forget!" "I couldn't protect them all. How many have I let slip through the cracks?" "Looks like we've been used." "Did you cook up the whole thing, ____?" "Stand up. If you've got enough free time to fantasize about your beautiful death... why don't you just live your life beautifully to the end?" "I'm going to live in a way that I think is beautiful, and I'll protect what I want to protect." "It wasn't really a burden. It was something important that you held with both hands, but you didn't realize it was there when you held it. I only realized its true weight after it slipped from my hands. I don't know how often I thought, 'I'll never carry this again.', but, all of a sudden, I'm feeling that weight again..." "Listen, I don't care what you guys do around the universe, but this is my sword, and anywhere it can reach is my country!" "Even if you lose all memory in your head, the ones engraved in your heart... and the ones that exist in your soul... will never disappear, no matter what happens." "Inside me, I have an organ more important than my heart. So that I can walk forward, without ever trembling. If I stopped here I feel like it would break... My soul would break." "Trying to shoulder the burden all by yourself? Don't be such a stranger. Weep and ask for help. Lean on me with your runny nose. Cry when you feel like crying. Laugh when you feel like laughing. When you're tearing up with an ugly face, I'll give you a good cry with an uglier face. When you're laughing so hard your stomach hurts, I'll laugh in a louder voice... That's how it should be." "The night is darkest just before dawn, but keep your eyes open. If you avert your eyes from the dark, you'll be blind to the rays of a new day... So keep your eyes open, no matter how dark the night ahead may be."

Shinpachi: "Why are you doing this? Haven't we done enough? Haven't we!?" "You're so unfair… Smiling brightly every single day, but you never show your true feelings in the slightest. Even if you're hurt or want to cry, you're forcing yourself to smile. Always without saying anything to anyone. You bear the burden alone, you decide alone and you end up smiling alone! Please stop forcing yourself! If you're hurt, then tell us!" "Talking about it won't change what happened. No matter how much we want it back, those days are long gone." "Why are you leaving again?! And we finally got to see you again! You're going to leave us, leave everyone behind and run off somewhere?! ____!"

Kagura: "People like you who care about other people are idiots. In the end, the idiots are just used. But I like those idiots better." "I'm sick of hurting people for money! Nothing tastes good this way!" "If you shoulder the burden alone and leave us behind…how are we supposed to be happy you saved our lives?"

Hijikata: "This isn't the kind of enemy where you can just enter his place and win the fight alone. You'll die." "I just... want to make the woman I love happy. That's... all I want." "I don't care if I lose an arm or a leg, as long as I am still breathing I'll keep fighting." "They don't need any sad words. All I can do for them is… keep fighting until I croak too… and give my best, like they did."

Okita: "I'm sorry. I truly am a useless. Right until the last moment, the one who snatched away your happiness was… me." "I've said this many times, your worst weakness is that you're too nice." "Some things in this world must be protected, even if it means getting your hands dirty."

Other: "I don't care about that gap you created on your own. I'll jump across it as many times as it takes, and punch some sense into you." "There was something I had to get my hands on... even if it meant dirtying them." "Forget your doubts. Your place has been with us from the beginning." "It's just sad, you know. I kinda liked you." "So... you were just playing a role, huh?" "Fond memories are painful... whether you keep them or let them go. If I'll suffer either way... I'd rather suffer trying to save it." "You see something in him, don't you?" "When a friend is crying, you should cry with him or her. When a friend is worried about something, you should hold your head and worry with him or her. If you're a friend, you can share any kind of pain with them. Also... if there is a time when a friend takes the wrong road... at that time you should, even if it ruins the friendship, stop them. That's true friendship." "It's all well and good to mother people, but you take it too far... You get used by people like me." "Too bad, just a little bit further, and you would've escaped." "Even though you cover your instincts with a paper-thin layer of morals... you looked like you were enjoying yourself when you were fighting."

#gintama #rp starters #sentence starters #my memes #I edited some of them if I felt like I needed to so I hope that's okay guys!

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allegra-writes · 4 years ago

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"Bright blue ripples"

Mob!Tom Holland x Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Smut, rough sex, overstimulation, dirty talk, master/sir kink

Just a little blurb cuz I can't get this scene out of my head 💦

"Light of my life, fire of my loins

Be a good baby, do what I want"

Off to the Races - Lana del Rey

"Say it, baby girl" Tom cooed softly against your ear, voice calm and sweet, like he hadn't been torturing you, pushing you to the brink of insanity, blurring the line between pleasure and pain, for almost two hours now.

As if he wasn't buried balls deep into your tight heat, fucking you raw.

But no, the bastard wasn't even winded. He was completely under control, as always.

It was unfair.

"Say it, come on" He insisted, "Just three little words, and it'll be over. Just three little words… and master will let you come"

You dug your fingertips on the sun warmed skin of his shoulders, his back, holding on for dear life as he kept on slamming his hips against yours, railing you into the pool wall.

You opened your eyes in an effort to clear your mind, to focus on something other than his big cock, thrusting inside you so deep and so hard, that you were sure he was bruising your womb. The bright blue ripples, glistening under the afternoon sun, that he was creating around the both of you with every move, caught your eye. That was exactly the way he was making you feel: wave after wave of pleasure, crashing, growing, amplifying inside you, until you were swept away in the riptide. Until it was hard to breath, useless to fight. You were just too exhausted for that, the only option left was surrendering.

"I'm sorry, sir" You sobbed, "I'm so sorry"

Tom leaned back, fingers tilting your chin up to look into your hooded eyes and you realized he was only using one arm around your waist to hold you up. It shouldn't amaze you anymore, how strong he was, but it did.

"See, I don't think you are" He tsked, slowing down his movements again, making you whine in complaint, "sorry that you're being punished, maybe. But not sorry for what you did…"

"No, please, I'm sorry" you begged, "please, sir, let me come"

He chuckled. He loved seeing you like that, his little hellcat, his cold, proud ice queen, reduced to a docile, pleading little kitten. And he was the one to do that to you. No one else but him could tame you, could satiate the hunger within you.

"I'm not being cruel because I want to, baby girl" Tom explained, thumb brushing away the tears you hadn't realized were falling. "I have to make sure to ingrain the lesson inside that pretty head of yours: Fire is messy, dangerous. I don't want you playing with matches anymore…"

You pouted, petulantly,

"But fire is fun!"

Your boyfriend's face fell, as you realized too late exactly what you had done.

"Did you just "but" me?"

Horrified, you opened your mouth to deny it, to defend yourself, to say anything, but a single stern look from his deep brown eyes was enough to shut you up. His grip around you tightened, as he carried you to the shallow part of the mosaic studded pool. A whine left your mouth as Tom slid out of you and placed you on your feet, the water reaching up to your waist.

"Strip" he ordered, pointing at your white bikini, askew and covering nothing at all already, but you guessed whatever plan he had, he didn't want anything in the way.

"Lay back, I want you to float on your back" he continued, once your bathing suit was off. You obeyed once again, eyes never leaving his face as he walked around you, disturbing the waters. He seemed to consider for a moment, before grabbing hold of your hip, guiding you closer to the edge of the pool.

"Hold on"

Once again, you submissively did as you were told without questioning it, reaching back and grabbing onto the sand colored tile.

Tom let your hips go, but kept his hands on you, trailing soft caresses from your collarbone, down to your breasts, tearing a moan from your lips when his blunt fingernails catched on your over sensitized nipples.

"My pretty little girl," he hummed, approvingly, "like it when I play with your pretty tits?"

"Yes, sir"

He cupped his hand under the water, only to later bring it to your chest, watching the droplets fall from his palm to your soft mounds, to the valley between them, catching the sun, glimmering on your skin.

"My precious girl…" Tom praised, circling you to step back between your legs. He never stopped touching you, massaging your calves, your thighs, stopping a breath away from where you needed him the most.

Your weak sigh made him chuckle,

"Want something, princess? Want me to touch you here?" His index finger finally traced your slit, gathering your wetness, different from the water surrounding you, playing with you, breaching your entrance just a falange, only to withdraw and flick your clit instead.

"Like it when I play with your pussy too?" He didn't really expect a reply. Luckily, because you didn't think you could have formed words, as he used his index and middle finger to penetrate you at last, wasting no time in searching for that perfect spot inside you that made you see stars.

"God, look at you… you're so wet, don't even need lube for this. Juicy little cunt"

He stroke his big, fat cock once, twice, before using the same hand to help guide himself inside you. Without removing the fingers from his other hand.

You cried out at the feeling, the fullness. He was stretching you to your limit, tearing you in half.

And you fucking loved it.

"You can take it, can't you princess?" It wasn't hard for Tom to realize your cries and sobs were of bliss, "My perfect girl can take everything I give her… Fuck! Taking it so well"

You couldn't have replied even if you had wanted to, you were in ecstasy, weightless, floating, soring. Helpless to the tsunami of sensation as Tom started thrusting again, slow and measured, careful of not hurting you. He was close to bursting himself, but you were his priority, fingertips never stopping rubbing against your g-spot, as your screams grew higher and louder.

"So fucking tight… my baby needs stretching"

You whimpered. His breathy voice as he talked filth to you was always your undoing.

"So tight… gonna milk me so good…"

He could see the muscles of your entire body starting to lock, "Gonna come for me, baby girl? That's it… you can let go… come for your master"

You didn't even realize you were holding it until he gave you permission to let go, but when he did, you came immediately, hard, every cell of your body exploding into a million sparks.

Oxygen deprivation at just the right time could do that to you.

"Shhhh, you're safe. I got you" Tom's voice was the next thing you were aware of, as he held you close to him with both arms, all of his skin against yours sending you to overdrive as he kept on rocking inside you.

You locked your arms around his neck and legs around his waist, urging him on to go faster and harder.

"Baby…"

"More" You demanded, "Come inside me… please sir, I want your come"

He growled against your neck, but complied, moving you up and down his shaft, using you to get himself off.

"Want you to come for me again" He gasped. You shook your head,

"I… I can't"

"You can and you will" His voice broke no arguments as he squeezed you against him tighter, pelvis grinding against your clit.

"Tom… please, no"

"Oh yeah" he moaned against your ear, "my baby girl has to learn her lesson"

Your head was too muddled, too confused to decide if you wanted to get closer to the pleasure or further from the pain, but in the end it didn't matter, you were too weak to push him away, anyway.

"Good girl… isn't it better when you stop fighting? When you just obey?"

You nodded your head minutely, all the answer you could manage, but it seemed to be enough for him. A couple thrusts later, and he was bitting down on your shoulder, releasing deep inside of you, the pulsing of his cock against your overstimulated entrails sending you into climax again.

On shaky legs, he carried you to the steps of the stair of the pool before collapsing on them, with you on his lap.

"God… that was…"

"Amazing" You finished for him, placing a soft kiss on his sweaty forehead. His replying smile was nothing short of ethereal.

"You were incredible, babe"

"Well, you weren't half bad yourself" Your chuckle died in your throat, as you saw his lips fall. You followed his eyes to the transparent film dressing covering half your right arm, where the gasoline had splashed your jacket and caught fire a few days before, when you had gone against his orders and burnt down the Collucci's place instead of waiting for the boys.

"I'm sorry" You said, sincerely, "I'll wait for reinforcements next time. I won't act alone again, I promise"

"I know you won't" He deadpaned, "You are off the field for a month"

"What?? No! Tommy, that's too long!" You complained. He only smirked,

"Don't worry, princess" The mischievous glint in his eyes foretold trouble. For you. "I can keep you entertained until your punishment is over…"

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x reader smut #mob!tom holland #mob tom holland #mob!tom holland x reader #tom holland hot #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #arvin russell #peter parker #nathan drake #cherry

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chipsinnit · 2 years ago

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I have a lot of feelings about the Chibs-Whittaker era that I've kept bottled up since it started. Can I throw a tantrum? I'm gonna throw a tantrum.

This era feels like a retread of Davison's. It was an age defined by its lack of emotional involvement, lame stories, lifeless companions and an overqualified lead actor in a really, really stupid costume.

Three seasons in and she never got more than one good story, never got to really act, never got to *be the Doctor.* She doesn't have a memorable moment like Tom Baker's brooding banter at the beginning of Pyramids of Mars or Capaldi's fiery speech to the Zygons.

The Thirteenth Doctor never had a set personality or moral code from one scene to the next, only a series of passing quirks that never really informed a character. And the stories, oof. In place of new adventures, nearly every episode was steeped in continuity mining and weak moralizing with no consistent philosophical or emotional core. Her stories weren't backed by ideas, just watery centrist pandering to a fanbase that abandoned the show in droves in 2013. If we were lucky, we might have gotten a Magic Schoolbus episode where the Doctor pined about how important this or that historical figure was, or we might get to watch our favorite monsters be dragged out to wander around and talk for a whole episode.

Jodie Whittaker was miscast for the Doctor Chibnall wrote. A lot of people let Jodie off the hook for her underwhelming performance, but that's unfair to Chibs and the other writers. Davison, Capaldi and Smith were frequently strapped with shit dialogue and managed to sell it. Jodie never did.

Was this the worst era in the shows history? Probably not. The 80s are pretty much unwatchable, the early First Doctor stuff is rough and the movie is probably best left as a foot note. But for some reason I can't quite define, this one stings just a little more. Is it the wasted historical moment of our first female Doctor? The disrespectful lack of effort on the creative team's part? If someone else feels the same way, maybe you can help me find some words for this.

Remember when the Doctor decided it was more merciful to let a room of giant spiders starve to death than just shoot them or find them a new home?

Remember when the show fumbled the Partition of India story and totally let the British off the hook?

Remember when the show sided with Amazon against unions?

Remember when they squeezed the laziest gay romance in TV history into the very end of the era so it could be quickly erased?

Remember when they cast a black woman Doctor but just made her reenact a David Tennant episode and didn't bother to give her a personality or a purpose?

Remember series 12 and 13? Wait- no. Me neither.

Graham was great, though.

Goodnight, Chris Chibnall. I hope you enjoy watching RTD erase everything you worked for.

#Doctor Who

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enjeolmii · 4 years ago

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seeking you - l.hs

genre: angst, a pinch of fluff

word count: 1.3k

warnings: indirect mentions of suicide, a very, very, very short peck on the lips

a/n: this is a repost from my old acc coz it was obstructed... but if you’ve read this before, you are very welcome to read it again 😁 tysmm 💗💖

"I'm back, y/n."

Heeseung shouts from across the house with the sound of a plastic bag shuffling in his hand. He's seen you working very hard to accomplish your assignments all day, and he thought that picking up food from your favourite place would help ease your stress.

But when he had set his foot past your bedroom door, he stumbles upon your figure, hunched over the desk and your head dug into your arms. Your laptop is playing a one-hour documentary going on about Ancient Greece, and each side of your earphones was tucked into your ears. His eyes soften at the sight of you. You've told him how much school has been a tad more overwhelming now that everything had to be done on the screen. Your eyes never had a chance to take a break ever since after Christmas break because while your teachers told you countless times to rest over the weekends, you weren't dumb enough to know that these assignments are going to finish themselves.

Heeseung sighs an empathetic smile and approaches you. He places the bag of chicken by your desk before leaning down to whisper in your ear.

"Bub," He patted your head lightly. "Get up a minute. I got your beloved chicken here. Let's take a break and eat, hm?"

Thinking you were asleep, he kept tapping at your head. His finger brushed along the strands of your hair, and you subtly flinch at his actions. "Come on, bub. Wake up."

"Heeseung," You weakly croaked out through your arms. The male immediately knew that something was wrong. You always called him by the nickname you two bestowed each other, and on odd occasions that you don't, Heeseung instantly knows how serious things must be.

"Y/n..."

You rise from your position and leaned back on your desk chair, hair covering your expression as you hide from your boyfriend's stare. "I don't think I can... I can't do this anymore."

A tear drops from your face to your h̶i̶s̶ grey hoodie. Heeseung didn't fail to notice this.

College was rough for him as well. He's been where you are now; he knows how it feels like to be so outdone by all these tasks. Except he had no one. You didn't understand, but you were an angel who came to save him that fateful night.

He was walking recklessly across all the busy highways in the area in an attempt to maybe do something any human would perceive crazy. He had left his piled-up works back at home and decided to take a break from the stuffy air of his room. He was feeling lost. He often wanted to give up on school, and this might be the first and last time he decided to take it on another level.

However, he arrived at a halt when you appeared in front of him with an expression he wished he had. You looked so happy and unbothered; it took every ounce of strength he had in him not to get annoyed and snap out on a stranger. But those sweet letters that left your mouth so exquisitely was all it took to make him feel a need to hear you more.

"What's a man like you doing walking in the middle of the streets crying, hm? Do you know how precious you are to be walking alone on the busy highways? I don't know who you are, but jeez, don't go losing your life here. That's just a losing game for the weak. Also, it'd be quite a loss not to see you around again, don't you think?"

You were such a bright person then; he was sure he'd be nothing now if you didn't come to stop him. And all he wanted to do was to do the same for you—all to keep that contagious little smile on your face.

His smiley eyes drifted into melancholic blobs of blue at your words. He didn't want to see you crying, not even sad. You are the only source of the sun he has left in his life, and he sure didn't want to see you lose your colour.

He slipped his hand in between the chair and your back before engulfing your body in his hold. "It's okay. I'm here. Tell me all about it." He reassured you.

Your weeping only grew louder with every second he consoled you. How lucky must you be to have met a guy you could relate to so much in the middle of the streets so easily? Although problematic, you two still managed to work things out together and held tightly to each other at times when unexpected hardships arise. He was always there to protect you from your troubles ever since you called it official with him; it just makes you feel uneasy that you couldn't do the same for him through college.

It didn't take you much longer to realise that the cotton on his right shoulder had been soaked well with your tears. And you try to make them stop with a sniffle from your stuffed nose.

"No," You shake your head against his shoulder. "You didn't do it like this, too, right?"

He questioned your statement with a hum.

"You kept all your troubles to yourself. It bothers me that you didn't give me a chance to protect you like you always do for me. It's unfair, you know?"

Heeseung chuckles at you. "No, it's not," He pulls you out of his arms to cup your face that's stained with tears. "You've done more than enough in protecting me, bub."

Your brows furrow.

"Remember the first time we met? You appeared in front of me so suddenly while I was in the middle of trying to take my life."

With every word that he enunciated past his mouth, the feeling of astonishment bubbled up in you. You were only joking when you told him not to lose his life on the highways because he looked so uncertain every time you saw him try to cross the roads from behind the glass cafe wall. But now that you know, you couldn't help but feel absorbed in the way you two just seemed to be meant for each other.

"Now that I realised how stupid of an act that was, I'm so thankful to have bumped into you that night. And don't say it's unfair because you've done so much more for me than you can imagine," He drags his thumbs to wipe the tears off your cheeks. "Someone told me that keeping your problems to yourself is a losing game for the weak, so don't cry alone and tell me everything about your problems, okay?"

You giggle at the pout he gave you throughout his lecture, and you felt like he was the only thing you needed in this world to keep you alive. As you bounce your head up and down to his request, you swiftly lean in to peck at his pout. You didn't know what you were thinking, but all you could say was that it felt right. It made you feel a lot better, knowing that he's always got your back at times like this.

An awkward silence loomed between the pair of you. All while Heeseung tries to process in his mind what you just did, his eyes grew wide from the stunt you riskily pulled off.

"Y..your shoulder's wet now." You try changing the topic in an attempt to eliminate the awkwardness, but your efforts only seem to fail when your boyfriend looked back at you with eager eyes.

"Do that again."

"H-huh?"

"Kiss me again."

"Uhm... The chicken! My chicken..." You pull your head away from his grip and hastily rummaged through the box inside the plastic, immediately putting a drumstick to your mouth while Heeseung laughed at your panicking structure.

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen heeseung #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #enhypen lee heeseung #enhypen oneshots #enhypen fic #lee heeseung #heeseung imagines #lee heeseung imagines #iland imagines #iland heeseung #kpop #kpop x reader #aria's fics #ariafics

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 4 years ago

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Stay With Me (Pt. 03 of 09)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon X Reader

Word count: 2.1 K

Summary: Daryl found you surrounded by the dead, stuck in the backseat of a car. You were wishing for death to take you away for quite a while now, but, as you slid back and forth into consciousness, there was only one thing keeping you alive. Him, the man with blue, worried eyes and kind voice. Your beaten up body was ready to give up, too wounded and broken to keep going. But this man, who went out of his way to save your life is the only thing in the world holding you up. And, because of him, you feel something you haven't felt in a very long time: hope. Wherever he's taking you, you want to get there, and not only to be buried. For what it feels like the very first time, you want to live. He takes you back to Alexandria, but even there, the nightmares and the terror from all the torture and pain you've been through keeps creeping closer, and Daryl, your hero, is the only one who can keep that all away.

Warnings: Mentions and description (not graphic) of past abuse; post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD); some violence at the end of the story (a little bit graphic, but not so much); blood.

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{The Walking Dead Masterlist}

I want to thank my awesome friend @jodiereedus22, who helped me (and still does) a lot to get this story done. She's also a writer and she's amazing so please go check her work!!

Memories From The Past

“I was with the same group of people since the world fell apart. Me and six other people.” Slowly you start, keeping your voice down so Daryl will be the only one to hear it. “We were fine and... One day we had to leave the house because there were too many dead around... So we... We left and this group found us. They were good, they offered help.” How stupid you were to believe it. To go with them and trust their kindness. Kindness, now, is rare. It's used as a trick, a trap. And you fell for it. “They had a couple of houses, lived well together and... It was normal, for a week it was normal. I-I was starting to feel safe when...” Your body shakes, like a leaf, and Daryl moves closer, pulling the blanket over your shoulders. “The men started making... Propositions. And I would never do that, and-and in the beginning they were okay. They respected my decision, but soon, it... They started getting aggressive. I told my group and we decided to run away during the night but they found out.” You're crying, sobbing, a hand on your heart. “They got us. And-and all the others were useless. Four men and two older women, so they killed them. They had t-these dead tied up and they made me watch as my friends were eaten.” It's hard to continue, to push the words out, to revisit that day. Those days, endless. The hours that never seemed to end.

“ ‘S alright. That's enough.” Daryl says, but you push the blanket away, freeing your arms from underneath and holding his hand. You just need to make sure he's real. That he's here, the man who saved you, who won't let anyone hurt you again.

“They locked me up after. They... They told me they didn't want to... Rape me... They wanted me to enjoy what they did. T-the humiliating, degrading sex, the extreme bondage, the cuts, the wounds, the pain. All of it.” You decide to just say it, spill it out, as fast as you can just to get it over with. “But I wouldn't. I wouldn't and I was thinking they'd just kill me. I was ready but they didn't. They came every single day, I stopped counting after a month, to ask me to surrender but I never did. They beat me, kicked me, cut me, spit on me. They used to drag one of the dead to the basement and leave it there, groaning at me for days.”

“That's enough. Ya don't have to–”

“Then a herd came. I heard it. I heard it killing them so I just pushed myself up and crawled through a window.” You look down at your arms, the grazes, and scratches from the glass. “I fought with a man for the car, and he gave me this–” You tilt your head to the wound on your left thigh. “–right before one of the dead got him. So I started driving, and I kept driving until the gas was over. I stood there as the dead came, surrounded me and I just wanted to die.” You're head is spinning, and you feel like you're just about to faint. “I wanted to die until you found me.”

The look on his eyes kills you. Why is he in such pain? Why is he looking at you like... Like you're breakable. Like you're broken already. Maybe it's because you are. And you will never speak of it again. You will never let these words come out of your mouth. The memories are more than enough to torture you day after day.

“Nobody will ever hurt ya again,” Daryl says, his voice filled with anger, a kind of anger you never witnessed before. “I promise ya. Never.” He pulls you into a hug, carefully, but you just move into his chest, biting back a wince when pain spreads through your body. You're sobbing, uncontrollably, and you're sure the tears are soaking Daryl's shirt. It hurts to cry. “Shh. ‘S alright, babygirl. Calm down, ‘M right here with ya. ‘M right here.”

“Will-will they kick me out?” You stutter, still hiding your head on his chest.

“No. Yer not going anywhere, hear me?” Daryl pulls away, just enough to look into your eyes. “Hear me?”

“Can you stay with me? Please.” Holding on to his shirt, you beg, unable to bear the thought of being left alone.

“Of course.”

Relieved, you pull him, moving to the side a little despite the pain. Daryl hesitates a bit before moving, resting his back against the headrest as you move to lay your head on his chest, pulling your legs up, basically curling into him.

You're not sure how long he stays there, in silence, a hand caressing your hair. But when you start getting hungry, you know he'll have to leave eventually.

“(Y/N),” Carol calls from the door frame. “Can I bring your lunch?”

Nodding weakly, you watch as her smiles and leaves.

“I need to talk to Rick,” Daryl says, carefully moving to stand up, making sure you'll be comfortable against the headrest. “Him and Deanna. So they'll stop bugging ya about... What happened before.”

“Will you be back?” You ask as he stands up, holding his hand.

“I promise I will. I won't leave ya alone.”

Nodding, you force yourself to let go of his hand. Carol brings you lunch and you struggle to eat without her help. It always takes a while, and Carol talks through it, even though you don't answer. You should though, she's been so kind to you, patient, doing everything she can... It's unfair to give the silent treatment.

“Thank you.” You say when you're done eating, handing her the empty plate. The words still sound low and weak, and you don't feel as comfortable as you feel with Daryl. “For... For everything.”

Her lips break into a smile, bright and sweet. “You don't have to thank me. I'm happy to help.” Carol moves to hold your hand, but you're quick to move it away. “I'm sorry.”

“No, I just...” Looking down, you feel another tear rolling. “Sorry.”

“It's alright, honey. It's good to see you feel comfortable around Daryl.” The mention of his name warms your heart. “I've never seen him so protective of anyone.”

“Daryl is...” Your hero, your anchor. He's the only thing holding you up, keeping you from falling apart.

“I know. I can see it in your eyes.” Carol stands up, giving you one last glance before heading to the door. “And I see it in his eyes too.”

You're left alone again, with your thoughts and memories. Daryl only comes back a few hours later, telling you he had spoken to both Rick and Deanna, and your stay in Alexandria was allowed. He says they usually make a small gathering to welcome new residents, but it'll only happen when and if you want it. You don't. In fact, you don't think you can leave this house just yet. You haven't even left the room, just for a few minutes every morning, when the streets are empty to get some sunlight. Anything else doesn't feel safe.

Later that night, you're wide awake after a quick nap brought the memories back as nightmares. So you just lie there, facing the ceiling, in the dark, shaking like a leaf. Even though the silence, the walls, and blankets covering you, you feel unprotected, exposed, vulnerable.

“The morning is coming.” You tell yourself, whispering, barely hearing your own voice. The sun will come back, the darkness will vanish and... And you'll probably feel pretty much the same way. “The morning is–” You're cut short when you hear footsteps, quickly pushing yourself up, biting back a moan when your body hurts. But your whole body relaxes when you see Daryl walking by, through the open door. He stops when he sees you, confusion on his face.

“What are ya doin’ up?” He asks, stepping inside the room.

“I'm not sleeping.” You mumble, not sure if the answer makes much sense. “I don't sleep. Not much.”

“Why?” Daryl sits on the edge of the bed, and you lie back down, holding his hand as usual.

“Bad dreams.” You admit, your eyes on his. You can't see the blue in this darkness, but you don't have to. Feeling his stare is enough to calm you down, make you relax. “If you... If you stay here– If you sleep here I– Maybe I can...” The words get all confused, as you understand what you're asking of him. But you need him, you're suddenly aware. If he's here through the night, you'll feel safe. You'll be able to sleep, knowing he's around.

“Ya want me here?” Daryl says, his voice low as if he didn't want to disturb the night.

“Yes, but... If you don't want it's ok. I– I'm just...” Restless, you move a little, feeling stupid for asking Daryl such thing. But you need him so much. Tears start rolling down, so you look away, breathing fast.

“Alright, alright.” You feel when he starts moving, and you do the same, sliding to the side to give him space. “Careful.” He says as you push yourself up a little, heart beating fast at the sensation of having him here.

You're not thinking much, and when you use your left leg to push your weight up, you feel a sting and a sharp pain spreading through your leg. A groan leaves your lips at the same moment, and you wince in pain, freezing in place. You feel wetness on the wound, and you quickly push the blankets away, all air leaving your lungs when you see blood staining the white bandages.

“Calm down.” You hear Daryl's voice, but you're hyperventilating, the agony of the flesh wound reopened bringing tears to your eyes. “Carol!” He shouts, startling you a little. “Lemme see.”

You nod, lying back down as he moves the blankets away, his hands just brushing against your skin. “It's ripped.” You moan, trying not to move, despite how your body is shaking.

“What happened?” Carol gets here quickly, her eyes wide.

“Go get Denise.” Daryl's voice is urgent, and it sounds like an order. She doesn't say anything before bolting away. “You'll be alright. I'll remove the bandages, ‘s that ok?” With your eyes closed, you nod, barely feeling his fingers on your skin as the dressings are removed. Soon enough you feel the cold wind on your flesh. “Some stitches are ripped. Not all of them.”

You barely hear his voice above the agony, covering your face with both your hands. “It hurts.” You mutter, feeling stupid for stating the obvious.

“I know. Denise will–” He's still speaking when Denise comes in suddenly, saying something you can't understand.

She's soon working on your leg, applying local anesthesia before anything else. You're relieved when the pain starts to fade, but you can't look. You feel the blood flowing out, and if wasn't for Daryl holding you, you'd lose it.

As Denise stitches you up, you have your back on Daryl's chest, his arms encircling your waist. You try not to shake, not to move, but it's hard. The tears come flooding again, as the memories try to haunt you. “ ‘S alright, babygirl. You'll be alright.” Daryl says on your ear, and you close your eyes tight.

He stays even after Denise leaves, still holding you as you hold on to him. The silence is comfortable, safe, and you feel yourself slowly drifting off to sleep.

“How long have you carried me here?” You ask, voice low and weak.

“Four days.”

“Four days?” You move to look at him, but his grip gets tighter, holding you in place.

“Careful. Ya gotta move slowly.” Settling back into place, you nod. “I had my bike but I didn't think ya could hold on so I carried ya.”

“I'm sorry...” Whispering, you grab a handful of the fabric of his shirt. “It must have been exhausting.”

“Don't apologize. All the way I was prayin’ I wasn't bringin’ ya here just to bury ya.” His chest vibrates, moving up and down as he breathes.

“You kept me alive.” Taking a deep breath, you rub your hand on his chest, as if making sure he's really here. Your hero. You will never understand why he did that, or how much trouble he put himself through to get you here, to save you. “Your voice was the only thing calling me back into consciousness and... For so long I just wanted to die already but you... You made me want to try. To live.”

“And ya will live now. I promise ya, (Y/N).”

A small, quick smile comes to your lips. Even though it's gone too soon, it feels good to know you still that the capacity to do such a thing.

And it happens again, in the morning after, when you open your eyes to find Daryl still in the bed with you.

@funeral-7 @heyyy-hey-babyyy @twdeadfanfic @soraitmnt @winchester-angel @bvbwestfall @shawtygonemad @cameronsails @pulplorrd

#daryl imagine #imagine daryl #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl x you #daryl dixon imagine #imagine daryl dixon #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead x reader #imagine the walking dead #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead fanfiction

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wendystales · 3 years ago

Text

Memories - lrh (Chapter Seventeen)

Memories (also on Wattpad)

Chapter Sixteen ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ Chapter Eighteen

Marnie pov.

I don't know if it was hangover or guilt, but my head was weighing a ton the morning after the party. Unlike everyone, I didn't wake up in a good mood, in fact I was pretty quiet at breakfast. Lucky for me, no one suspected anything, as the hangover gripped everyone there.

As yesterday was still Saturday and most had to work, I didn't have to run away from anyone. Since my plan had been in action since Monday, I took the day off to start packing up some things, trying to get everything as ready as possible.

For today, I had left only the final adjustments, like packing my suitcase and getting ready for my conversation with Luke.

The pain in my throat becomes more and more unbearable every time I hold back the cry. I fold up one of the band sweatshirts I have, watching the boys' faces, wanting to reinforce why I'm doing this.

I run my finger over Luke's face, as if I'm touching him. Friday's flashes flood my mind and I scold myself for nearly screwing it up out of sheer desire. Of course I wanted it as much as he did. Feel his touch, the desire and love he manages to emanate so naturally. I don't think I've ever felt so alive and so amazing in anyone's arms as in his, but it couldn't happen.

The doorbell snaps me out of my thoughts. I hurry downstairs, thinking it's Martin with the paperwork.

“Noah?" I give my friend room to enter. "Aren't you supposed to be at that lunch?" I check my watch and check the time, 1:37 PM. “Noah?” I call him, wondering at his frown.

"I wanted to come talk to you directly so we don't have any misunderstandings and to see if that way I can understand what this should mean." he hands me a folder. I open it quickly feeling my blood pressure drop. It was the paperwork I was waiting for. "What's this about moving to New York?"

"How did this get to you?" I try to control my breathing and head into the living room, feeling the urge to sit down. I start to think of a million excuses and ways not to have this conversation since it wasn't part of my plan.

“In case you also forgot, I work at the company. I am the owner's son and above that I am your advisor, everything that happens to you must pass through me at some point. Now tell me what this story is." I don't think I've ever seen Noah this angry.

“I received a job offer and decided to accept.” I know my voice has cracked, but I pray he doesn't notice. Noah stares at me for a few seconds with a more confused and displeased expression.

“I've known you for two years. You're going to have to try harder if you want to deceive me. Marnie, you just signed a rehearsal contract here in LA. If you got a proposal, you would know from me. Does this have to do with the fact that you're weird these days? What? Did you go without saying anything to anyone? That's it?” I remain silent, feeling everything go downhill from there. Slowly, a fury starts to build inside me. “Marnie, what's going on?”

It's not just the countless times I've heard this question throughout the week. I believe it's because I'm not in control of anything right now. About me being forced to do all this, not being able to tell my friend what's going on. All of this makes the question so much bigger and deeper than it really is. And it makes the fury that's brewing inside me grow.

“My God! Nothing! It's not happening anything. What a bag!” the scream breaks my mouth, coming out louder and angrier than I expected. “I am fine! When are you going to understand this?” he doesn't seem to be frightened by my scream, just standing there with his arms crossed and expressionless.

"Maybe when you stop lying and tell me what's going on?" he makes fun of me. A cynical laugh comes out of me as I go to open the door and ask him to leave my apartment. “You weren't like that, Marnie." I get irritated again. I can't explain where so much anger comes from, let alone contain it.

“Surprise, Noah, I'm like that. This is Marnie and always has been. Now if you don't like her, I can't do anything. Your ‘Marnie’ is gone and it's just me. And I'm going to New York whether you like it or not.” along with the anger, I feel like crying, but once again, I hold back with all my strength.

Noah nodded thoughtfully. I know it's a scene, that he's going to attack me again, he's just choosing his words.

“Then that's it? You mess it up, make everyone believe that everything is fine, and leave without warning. Is that what you're going to do?” the judgmental look bothers me.

"I didn't mess anything up."

“No?” he laughs falsely. "I don't say for myself or for the girls, but haven't you been giving a certain someone hope, making him believe you could get back together? And now you're going to go away and let him suffer without caring?” he raises his eyebrows.

I suck in the air harder, making it burn. The fire burns stronger inside me. The desire at the moment is to break everything.

“Do not do it.” my voice breaks. I close my eyes, pulling myself together. “Do not do it! Don't think I'm not suffering from having to make this decision either.” I can't hold back the tears, not caring about them anymore either.

“You're? Cuz it doesn't look like.” I close my hands, squeezing them tightly. I try to control the urge to scream, scream in hate, in anger, in pain and most of all, scream that he is being unfair to me.

“Of course I'm suffering.” once again I scream. "Do you think not?! Look at me! Do you think it doesn't hurt me to have to do all this?! Leave him here like this and not be able to do anything?! Of course it hurts. Why do you think I'm doing all this?! Because I love him! I love more than one day I thought it was possible to love someone. I'm doing it for him. But there's no easy way to do this, I don't have a choice.”

“Everyone has a choice, Marnie, you're just choosing the one you find easiest.”

"Does this sound easy to you?" I interrupt him, opening my arms, showing me. I dry my tears exhausted. “I made my choice and I appreciate if you respect. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to finish packing my bags.” I open the door for him.

My friend doesn't say anything else, just heads towards the door.

“Feel free to share my plan with the others.” I say tough.

“No! I will not do that. You made your decision, you did the shit and now deal with it.” Noah doesn't even wait for the elevator, taking the stairs.

I slam the door, feeling that anger still burn inside me. I rest my eyes on the wall where my photo is. I go to it, pulling out the wallpaper, tearing off part of the image. I'm not mad at Noah, I'm mad at myself, at the way it all went and where I went.

If I weren't a model, I could be living my life without any problems. Luke would still be the guy in the band I only knew one song about. I would be happy and free from all that pressure.

Still needing to release that anger, I grabbed the flower pots near the door, throwing what was left of my image against. My throat hurts from sobs and my heart clenches when that feeling arises.

““Wait, there's an eyelash.” I say to Luke, trying to catch it. “OK! Make a wish.” I lift my little finger at him.

He was about to take the stage at the Capital Summertime Ball. Luke stares at my finger thoughtfully and smiles, apparently determined.

“Be my girlfriend?” he sounds curious. I stare at his amused face, making sure he's kidding me.

“I'm serious.” I push his shoulder with another hand. I gasp when I see Luke kneel down with the guitar.

“Me too.” he shrugs. I start to laugh nervously, covering my face but careful not to lose my eyelash. I can hear the muffled laughter of the boys beside us, just wanting to hit each one of them.

“You need to blow to see if your wish comes true.” I say, already knowing my answer and I suspect he does too. Luke stands up blowing his flying eyelash.

"Boys, it's you, come in." a production guy yells, already pushing Ashton onto the stage, who is followed by Calum.

Quickly, I grab Luke's face, like I always did before he took the stage.

“Yes!” I give him a peck, watching him smile. Luke hugs me, stealing another kiss, running up onto the stage happily.

“This was definitely the cutest, most improvised request I've ever seen.” I open an even bigger smile, hearing Ryan beside me. I lay my head on his shoulder, swallowing the happy cry I wanted to let out.””

I don't know how long I sat staring at my torn photo, with a horrible pain in my chest. I hug my knees like the coward I am, not wanting to accept that the time has come.

Luke pov.

I jot down one more note in the melody I'm creating. The idea came up in the morning and if I didn't work on it now, I would forget. I go back to playing the piano following the sequence, when the bell interrupts me.

Petunia doesn't even make an effort to get up, remaining on the couch, snoring.

I open the door feeling my heart race. Marnie was standing there with a serious expression. I conclude that she came to tell me what was going on and I am relieved that I will finally understand what is happening.

“Can we talk?" I'm surprised by the hard look.

I make room for her, who goes straight to the living room, standing in the middle. I let a weak smile emerge, remembering all the times she's done this. I stop a little away, giving space, because I know how important this is to her at these times.

"I believe you came to tell me what's going on." I keep my hands in my pants pockets. M&Ms nodded.

"I came to break whatever we have." I don't know how to react. In fact, I'm not sure I got it right. “Look I tried, I really tried, but…”

“I'm sorry, what?”

For a second, I wonder how I got back to two years ago, where we had these fights almost daily. Where we were too dumb to want to accept. If it weren't for the pink hair, I would be convinced that it would be 2018 again.

“I tried to feel something for you, but I couldn't. And there's nothing I can do.”

I stare at Marnie, confused. I replay the past few weeks in my mind, all our moments together, and I can't believe a single word she says. I know everything was real. Every smile and laugh, every flushed cheek, every look and especially every kiss. Come back to Friday. How can she say there was nothing there?

“You gotta be kidding me. After all we've been through this month, do you have the courage to try to say you didn't feel anything?” my tone rises.

It doesn't make any sense. Her speech, her request not to forget that she likes me and today this? The pieces don't come together.

“Sorry. But I can't go on with this anymore.” I can see your gaze looking around the room. She's lying, why is she lying? For me on top.

“Why are you doing this?” Marnie looks at me confused.

"Because I'm tired of carrying this…”

“No! Why are you lying to me?” her eyes roll. I get close enough to be able to hear and notice her breathing.

"I have no reason to lie to you. If you can't accept that a girl doesn't like you, that's your business.” she passes me at the mention of leaving. But I hold your arm.

"So Friday was my hallucination? The two of us in the bedroom. You on my lap. All that desire and lust, was it a dream of mine?” your pupils dilate.

I can see she's thinking right now, can feel her pulse increase. She felt something, all this time, she felt something. I don't know if it's that insecurity from the beginning, the fear of getting involved, of getting hurt that always kept her away from me. The fear that I would be like him.

“I drank a lot.” her voice breaks the silence. I let go, covering my face, laughing indignantly.

“Oh my God, Marnie, why are you doing this? It's clear you're lying to me. Tell me what's going on. Is someone blackmailing you? Threatening you? Is it Stephen? Did he mess with you again?”

“There's nothing going on, Luke. I just don't love you.” she says with her head down.

The sentence cuts through me, causing agonizing pain. I feel my body retract. Your voice comes back in my mind in different tones and shapes, telling me every time you loved me. Whispering, screaming, in normal tones, even the day she swallowed helium gas.

My eyes burn. I don't want to cry in front of her, not out of shame, because I've cried a million times, but out of pride in not accepting that I'm hurt.

“I didn't want to go that far.” her restrained voice hovers over me.

I look at Marnie, not recognizing her. This is not the girl I fell in love with. The girl I spent nights awake just imagining what it would be like to go out with her, what it would be like to hold her hand and see her smile at me. The girl I spent mornings admiring sleeping. That I wrote love letters. That several times made me forget even my name just for saying the same thing. It's not her.

But it's amazing how I still know she's in there, somehow. Maybe Marnie was right that day, she didn't want to feel like an intruder in her own life, but she was.

She herself undid everything we built. Everything we've fought so hard has fallen like a house of cards. The promises made at dawn about our future together, vanish with the wind. I know they weren't empty, but the girl who made them with me isn't here.

“I'm so sorry. I-”

“Say it looking at me.” I stare at her resolutely.

“Don't do that.” she begs in a whisper.

Her eyes flood with despair and I delude myself, even with pain. Her mouth opens several times, but her voice doesn't come out. Her eyes blink several times, trying to ward off the tears that are forming there. I watch her body hold the air.

“What? Weren't you so determined?! So convinced?! Didn't you come here for this?! So say it looking at me, not the walls, like you're doing.” her jaw locks. “Two years ago you came here to look me in the eye and say you wanted to try, you came to ask me for a chance for both of us. So now look into them and say you don't want it anymore.”

Marnie stares at me lost. I pray, I beg her not to make it, for her to give up on this stupid idea. That deep down she says she's afraid to surrender. I wouldn't mind ignoring this fight and pretending nothing happened. Then I would hold her and make her feel like I would protect her from everything, make her feel loved. But my thoughts change and I lose hope when I watch her take off the necklace I gave her.

“I'm sorry.” she puts it in my hand. Right now I don't mind letting the tears fall. I stare at my hands feeling destroyed. Her lips touch my cheek lightly and so she leaves my house and my life.

““What is this?” I open a smile watching her approach, openmouthed. “Luke, what is this all about?” her eyes run over all the details with curiosity.

For a few seconds, I don't know what to say. I lose my breath watching how stunning she looks in this flowery dress with wavy hair. Holy crap.

“Our first date.” I shrug. Marnie breaks into a beautiful smile, making her cheeks blush. The sparkle in your eyes enchants me.

“Luke, when you said a date I swore we were going to a restaurant, I didn't think…” her voice trails off, giving way to a delighted laugh.

"Have I exaggerated?" I approach her, looking at the small tree with scattered lights and the table for two with two candles. "If you say yes, I'll be upset." I make fun of her.

“No! It's perfect, is that… I didn't expect this. Not all of that.” she whispers. "Did you do all this?" she looks at me in surprise.

“Good part. Except the food, the intention is to impress you, not make you run away from me.” I look at her teary eyes and feel amazing for getting it right. She liked.

I take a deep breath, trying to control my breathing and my nervousness. I wanted to leave Marnie speechless, wanted her to make sure I was worth it. And even with all the effort, she managed to leave me speechless yet. My God, how could someone be so beautiful like that? Am I really that lucky to have gotten her attention? I mean, do I deserve her?

“I do not know what to say. Thank you.” I get lost in her eyes, feeling the butterflies in my stomach grow. It couldn't be possible for me to be in love with her that fast already, could it?””

Marnie pov.

Air doesn't reach my lungs, no matter how windy it is. My chest and throat hurt so much my body recoils with every sob. It was like sand in my hand, running through my fingers, I couldn't hold it back.

As torture, I replay the scene in my head again, watching his blue eyes lose their luster and let those tears fall. I wanted to hug him and tell him I was crazy, drunk. That deep down I was completely in love with him, and I didn't even need my memories for that. Luke is so amazing that he managed to win me over again and I believe he could a million times over. I wanted to say that I want him, I want him more than anything, but I can't.

The doorbell pulls me out of my private cell, my mind, prompting me to question whether the bomb had ever gone off. It would probably be Leah or even Ashton, but I don't want to deal with anyone right now. I don't want lectures, I don't want judgments, I just want to stay on the couch until tomorrow when it's my time to go to New York.

I crawl to the door finding the last person I want to see right now. John Letterman has a huge, excited smile, in contrast, my face is red and swollen from crying for the past few hours.

“Hi, Marnie, how are you?” Cursed the day I ran into him at the studio.

“What are you doing here?” John plays offended.

“I just came to ensure that everything is going with our agreement.”

"What does it look like?" I point to my face. “It's all just the way you made me do it.” I turn around, entering the still-destroyed apartment.

"But what happened here?" he looks at the destroyed hall in disgust.

“You, John. Just you and your disgusting manipulation.” John shakes his head laughing.

"I didn't put any gun to your head to accept this. I just showed you the truth, you are destroying the career of 5 seconds of summer. Your person's association is putting their contract and their tour at risk. You're the one who decided to walk away.” he smiles satisfied.

I break eye contact, too exhausted to debate.

“I'm glad you lived up to your part of the deal and I hope this is the last time we've crossed paths.”

"Then we are two."

“But if I hear you're trying to get close to Luke again…” the tone of voice pisses me off.

“I've already done my part, but if you keep pissing me off, I'll go to Luke right now and tell him the whole truth.” I threat, nervous. I try not to show that his laugh makes me confused.

“You know, I missed you, Marnie. That innocence is really funny.” John stops laughing and approaches. "Do you think Luke wants to see you now?! Why do you think I'm here knowing everything?! He already called me, asking me to schedule the trip. He hates you now, Marnie. You broke his heart. I don't care what useless word you say to him, because he won't believe it. Here.” he takes his cell phone out of his jacket. "Want to call him and tell him?! I will help you.” he returns a venomous smile.

“Get out of my house.” I say through teeth.

"What's up, Marnie? Don't be so passionate. After all we are friends.” he makes fun of me.

"I said 'get out of my house.'” I scream, picking up a decorative vase beside me and threatening to throw it at it.

John doesn't look scared, but heads for the door.

“One day you'll thank me, Marnie.” he says before closing the door. I throw the vase, screaming, seeing it crash against the door.

The urge to go to Luke and tell the whole truth becomes much stronger, however, even if I don't want to admit it, John was right, Luke must hate me by now, making everything I say empty. On the other hand, I remember that I'm doing this for him.

I know at any other time, if I knew the band was going through something like that, I would do anything to help. Now, making sure I'm the problem, I want to become the solution and if that meant having to walk away from it then I would, after all their success and happiness could be mine.

I want to have faith that a few years from now, when everything is better, maybe I can get Luke and the others to understand why I'm doing this. Maybe we can even be friends if he doesn't hate me.

I give up, going up to my room for a shower and straight to bed. It's horrible knowing I need sleep to be acceptable for tomorrow, but I can't turn my head off. Even exhausted, I go over every fight I had today. Noah, Luke, and John's voices mingled in my mind, draining me more and more of my energy, but not to the point of putting me to sleep.

The night slowly drags on and the approach of dawn makes an anxiety rise within me. Yesterday they could have held back so they wouldn't come to debate anything, but I doubt that someone won't show up today and, given my state and mood, I'm sure I won't have the strength to fight.

For the few seconds and times I dozed off, I dreamed of the doorbell ringing, of Leah screaming for me to open the door. Finally, when the clock struck a little after five, I decided to get out of bed. Wrapped in the duvet, I walk to the kitchen, making tea. With my drink ready, I walk over to the couch on the balcony, watching the sky clear up for my last day in LA.

Passed morning, I go for a shower with the intention of getting rid of this weight. I lock everything in my room, not knowing when I'll be back. In the closet, I grab Luke's box and pull out my diary and some of our Polaroids. I also take the little white box, carefully storing it in my suitcase.

I walk around the house, closing windows, turning off power and stuff. I don't worry and much less care about the mess I made yesterday, if I ever come back to this apartment, I'll ask for a huge renovation, not wanting to remember anything from that time.

Around 8:00 am, I tell Martin that I want to go to the airport early, wanting to avoid any of my friends or family. I had already talked and said goodbye to my parents before the party. I'm relieved when he says he's on his way.

I take one last look at my apartment, accepting my defeat. I pick up my bags, already going downstairs and moving forward as much as possible to just leave, I just didn't count on Ashton at the front desk of the building

"Ash?" I call him on impulse. My friend turns to me, apparently not at all surprised to see me with my bags.

“Can we talk?” he questions calmly.

“I need to go to the air-” I try to dodge him, but Ash steps in front of me.

“Five minutes. I do not want to fight. I just want to understand you.” he interrupts me.

“You don't understand, Ash.” whisper. “I need to go.”

There's one thing I've always admired about Ashton, that peace he has and emanates. He in no second judges me with his gaze, in fact, this calm almost makes me tell everything, trusting that he would listen to me and believe me. But in seconds this idea loses strength, after all, Luke would not believe me and John could still harm the band.

“You know, I remember the day we met very well. You were the new student in yoga class and I was happy to have someone my age there. We weren't the best students and we talked too much, which caused us to be thrown out of class.” he laughs a little. “But even without that, we became good friends. It is not?”

“Yes,” I whisper, trying to understand where he is going.

“Marnie, I can't explain what was different with you, but I really didn't want to lose touch. I wanted you to be my friend. The problem is, in the end, I took care of you like my little sister. I think I projected that onto you. I've always taken care of Lauren and Harry a lot and I miss them sometimes. I always wanted to and will always protect you, but I need to know exactly what.”

“Ash…” I try to interrupt him but can't.

“I lost you once, in that fucking accident. I lost you to amnesia. I don't want to lose you for a silly thing. Marnie, please just tell me.” he pleads, holding my hands.

It pains me to see him like this. I can see the desperation in his eyes, just as I saw it in Luke's eyes. I know it hurts, but it has to. Ashton was definitely the best friend I've ever had in all my 23 years, I don't need my memory to prove it. Just a conversation with him and I realized our connection. Really, Ashton is the big brother I never had and I'm grateful for that.

Without the strength to want to convince him of the story I had already created, I pull his body to me, hugging my best friend for the last time. He doesn't deny the hug, squeezing me tightly, as if to stop me from going.

“Thanks for everything, Ash. Please don't forget my speech.” I give him a kiss on the cheek, ready to get into the car that has just arrived.

'It wasn't by chance that you and Luke met.” I stop at the door, turning confusing to him. “Ever since I've known you, I've known you'd be perfect for Luke, you're almost the female version of him. I just gave you guys a little push to see each other, because I knew the moment he saw you, he was going to fall in love with you.”

I stare at Ashton for a few more seconds before turning towards the car, feeling the tears wet my cheek once more. I didn't need to be an expert to know that yes, Luke and I were made for each other, but unfortunately, not all soulmates end up together.

I'm so sorry, I know I'm late. I have a undergraduate thesis at the end of the year and I am too busy with it. But I promise not to delay this amazing fic for you anymore. Thank you so much for all the support and affection, you're amazing. Until the next chapter!

P.s. which I will post in a few hours, after all, it's the least I can do after a month of delays. See ya! xoxo

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katsukis-bakugo · 4 years ago

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I've been replaying final fantasy xv and, other than the poor storytelling, the games worst aspect for me is by far the apparent "romance" between noctis and lunafreya.

I cannot for the life of me invest myself in their relationship. firstly, it feels very forced. the game gives them no substance outside of the words of third parties voicing how much the two supposedly love each other. for instance, a random child runs up to noctis just to tell him the player about how lunafreya felt. there's no escape from this happening either, which further forces their romance into the player's face and down their throat

(image: "she really loved you, prince noctis").

(image: "she was really excited to marry you! she looked so happy the day her dress arrived!")

who are you? how do you, random child, know how luna was feeling and how she reacted to seeing her dress? what purpose do you serve other than to yet again remind the player that noctis and lunafreya love each other?

any well-written romance would have absolutely no need to include ridiculous scenes like this as well-written romances show the audience the love between the characters rather than telling them through random npcs. the fact that the game doesn't go beyond anything other than this to build anything concrete or convincing for their relationship shows not only bad writing, but also lazy writing. quite frankly, it's insulting.

now, noctis and lunafreya met once as children; noctis eight years old and lunafreya twelve. they had no interaction over the following twelve years other than being pen pals. the whole idea of their little notebook is like texting someone from primary school until after secondary then deciding to meet up and get married. it makes very little sense. yes, you can still learn about someone by writing to them, but you won't truly know them as you would with in-person interactions. flaws are pretty much absent due to the writer being in control of the knowledge they give of themselves, which would lead to being placed on a pedestal. without any face-to-face interactions, neither could really know the other. they don't have the chance to see their quirks, what makes them tick, how they treat other people and situations. their love for each other appears to be nothing more than the idealisations they've created of one another. they don't truly know each other; they just think they do.

I'm just going to say it: noctis and lunafreya should've shared a platonic relationship. the fact that they're both nostalgic for the time they spent together as children coupled with luna giving advice and approval like a mother/older sibling gives the relationship a more comfortable fit to be platonic. a big indicator of this is luna's death scene in which the two appear as children.

despite it being a tragic event, it was still an opportunity for the supposed romance between the two to shine through. but instead, the main focus of their dialogue is duty. during the scene, luna does her usual of preaching about his destiny before it shifts onto her dying. noctis begins to cry and tells her "it's not right. all I wanted was to save you." luna then turns into her older, current self, and offers noctis - who is still presented as a child - words of hope and wisdom and tells him that she will always watch over him.

only at the very last second of the scene does noctis become his older, current self when the realisation of the situation sets in and he tries to reach out to her. instead of telling noctis that she loves him, luna simply says "farewell, dear noctis." this scene was not romantically coded at all.

personally, I don't see their personalities being a good match romantically, either. it's a little unfair to say so since luna doesn't exactly have a personality, but from what we're shown throughout the game, I can't imagine noctis having fun or joking around with luna like he does with a lot of other people, even those outside his group. noctis loves to fish, to play games, to adventure and live his life. whilst you could argue that his attitude changed when he seemingly matured after his decade-long nap, he's still human with a personality. to me, luna seems like she would simply spend all day every day devoting all her time and energy to nothing but her role and to her lover, rather than having her own interests and life as well. sure, opposites attract, but sometimes two people are simply too different and are romantically incompatible.

a big weakness of the romance between notcis and luna is that luna is a very bad character. she's given nothing outside of her duty and noctis, which is pretty much the same thing. she's a classic "too pure, too good for this world" character who is presented as perfect and serves as nothing more than a mere plot device for the main protagonist/love interest. she's cast away when the story has no use for her anymore and her purpose is fulfilled. this makes it very difficult to care about her and her fate because she feels like less of a person and character and more of a catalyst for the story. the writers merely use her as a push for the protagonist. from my perspective, luna convinced herself she romantically loves noctis - she has a duty to uphold and it revolves around him and seeing his destiny through.

as for noctis, he clearly cared about luna and they did love each other - but I'm not convinced of it being in a romantic sense. they seemed more reliant on each other for comfort and hope rather than anything in relation to romance.

without the supposed wedding scene between the two, I think I could've swallowed their relationship a little easier (and lived pretending that their love for each other was platonic/familial). but it comes out of nowhere and is shoved in the player's face as if to say "see! they're in love! even though they didn't have to get married anymore, they still did because they really did love each other!" okay, but it doesn't make up for the poor writing, the lack of chemistry and romantic connection and the fact they still don't really know each other. let's not forget the fact that luna is sitting on the floor at noctis' feet like a dog. at her own "wedding"?

the same occurs in artwork in the dawn of the future book where, not only luna, but also their daughter is sitting on the floor whilst noctis and his son sit nice and comfortably on the throne. and the two of them gaze up at them as though their only purpose in life is to love them

why? who thought this was a cute idea? to me, it simply reinforces the idea that luna served nothing more than a role to noctis, whether it was as oracle, his love interest or just a plot device to push him forward.

also the fact that their children resemble noctis and luna exactly as they were as children themselves, down to the daughter being older as well, is just strange...also?? noctis has his hand?? on his wifes head?? she really is a fucking dog huh. I'm not a fan

in conclusion, I think square enix were complete cowards to not have the bond between noctis and lunafreya that of a platonic and/or familial one which, in my opinion, would have been far more suitable. I can't and never will get behind their romance, no matter how many updates, dlcs or books are released in order to fix it. some things are just broken beyond repair, and noctis and luna's romance is one of them.

#me? ranting about this shitty game and its shitty romance in the shitty year of 2020? it's more likely than you think #this game should've been centred around familial love and I will die on this hill #but if you do ship them then you do you #just don't scream at me for having a differing opinion 👍#anti lunoct #anti-lunoct #anti noctluna #anti-noctluna #final fantasy xv #ffxv #my post

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neenahnah21 · 4 years ago

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Find my Way Back Home VII

Summary: Bucky Buchanan Barnes is smitten to a four insignia military officer—you. How do you think things will unfold?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1,454

Warning: Swearing?

Bucky were hunted again by another dreams. This one was different though, the night terrors were not about his terrible fate at the hands of Hydra— the dreams were about you.

It wasn't necessary a nightmare, in fact it was quiet pleasant, too good to be true. Maybe that was the reason why it was called a dream, because it is impossible and way too far from reality. And he considers it a nightmare for being only a good dream and not a reality.

"What were you so distracted at soldier?!" he's superior exclaimed seeing how preoccupied Bucky is during a briefing. His shouting snap him out of his trance and quickly brought his attention back to the officer in front of him.

"Nothing sir" he denied, and his superior knew him damn too well.

"Well repeat my instruction then" he challenged and Bucky were tongue tied, not really knowing what to say, true to his superior observation, he wasn't really paying attention.

It's not that he's not a good soldier, it's just that your presence were extremely distracting, you looked to good to be denied every attention in the world. Wearing that officer uniform, moving so gracefully among your colleagues, damn, how could he deprive his self the sight of you.

Luckily out his not so great disposition you decided to be his dame in damn uniform ready to save him, like the guardian angel you are to him.

"Good day gentlemen, what are we having here" you greeted, when his superior saw you he was quick to render a salute and so does he-with an additional wink which caused you to roll your eyes.

"Just lay outing the defence in case the adversary decided to attack first, ma'am" his superior answered.

"Hmm, well I must get going now then, looks like you can handle your selves. I just drop by to say hello" you asseverate and then the two soldier rendered you once again a salute before you retreat the quarter.

Whatever they were doing earlier was now forgotten, his superior quickly dismissing him after an important errand demands his attention, to Bucky's gratefulness. He can't take another reprimanding, he can't afford you thinking any less of him.

"Well it's just not appropriate for a dame as such to be all alone at this hour" Bucky remarked playfully when he saw you walking alone at the side of the river. You're current FOB was better among the rest you have been, resource was great and the scenery was a bonus.

Tonight was extra especial, the moon was bright and it was beaming with light that emits the base. It's reflection was can be magnificently seen at the river water.

"Luckily I can be a knight in shining armour at your service" he said shamelessly. You scoff can't help the laugh that escaped from your mouth. You wanted to reprimand him at how vulgar he was, but knowing him, it would be pointless.

"Well that's too bold of you to say soldier" you replied, trying to sound firm but the smirk on your lips were a give way that you are anything but.

"Well lucky you I'm a valiant soldier cause if I'm not then I won't be holding your hand right now, officer" he beam with full of pride.

You didn't noticed it until he mentioned it.

The echo of gun shots and artillery fires brought Bucky out of his dreams, sweat were drenching his clothes, the gruesome image of what fold right after his fantasy dream were a nightmare that twice it's dreadfulness to the sweet one he was having.

He couldn't shake the image out of his head. How he was holding your hand just a moment ago and then not too long after that he's already holding your limp body.

The image was too much for him to take. Luckily it was just a nightmare , one of the few good in his bad ones. This one were different in a sense that it was the calmness before the storm. Too good in the beginning but it was the same ending, horrifying.

That wasn't the last dream he has of you that night though. It seems like his fantasy and yearning of having you were finally keeping up with him, even in his unconscious state.

"What the hell?!" you screech when Bucky entered your tent without permission. When you saw your intruder you slightly relax but kept your uptight demeanour.

"What the fuck are doing here Sergeant Barnes?!" you asked firmly, he only gave you a lip-sided smile though, he figured out he like seeing you in authoritative manner, dominant and in control. You looked extremely hot when your pissed and he liked it knowing he's the one that can rile you up like this, the only one that can get under your skin without being beheaded.

"Can't I just visit my girl?" you scoffed at his response, completely not having this shenanigans of his.

"As if" you retorted.

"As if what doll?" he's now walking towards you, shamelessly checking you out, savouring every detail of you physique.

"As if you don't longed for me to be here? As if you don't want me calling you MY GIRL, because doll, I know you do" he said huskily, his seductive voice were making you weak on your knees and when you were just about to be slumped on the floor Bucky caught you in his harms, embracing you with a hug.

He firmly secure you in his arms, snaking it at your waist and looking at you lovingly.

"I miss you" he said while smashing his lips unto yours, at first you didn't fight it but when you realize how wrong the situation is you tried to break free from it.

"Bucky stop, you can't be here. You're not even allowed to be here. Specially during this hours" you said but your hands were still snaked at his neck and the other one playing absentmindedly with his hair. He just give you a knowing look and you couldn't help but chuckle at it.

"We can't, someone can just walk in" you said while looking pass him and checking the opening of your tent.

Bucky only hummed though, not bothered even a single bit with your warning. He only tightened his hold on you and brought his face at the crook of your neck, pecking once in a while at soft skin there.

"Buck..." you warned.

"Hmm" he replied still sucking you neck.

"Seriously stop" you doesn't sound like you wanted to which encourage Bucky more.

"We can't afford to get caught you know, hands off now" you demanded firmly, Bucky only shook his head and looking at you with his puppy eyes. That's unfair, you can't deny him anything if he's looking at you like that.

"Nope" he said popping the p sound like a child, you can only glared at him, not trusting your voice. When it seems like there's no way of talking him out of it, you tried wiggling yourself out which earned a grunts from him.

"Please?" he begged.

"Weren't you suppose to be supervising your troop?" he ignored your question, completely indulge at studying your feature.

"Can we just be like this please? Stay like this" he added, referring to your current position where he was embracing you tightly in his arms.

"Buck you know we can't, if someone saw us you'll be—" he didn't let you finish your words when he crashed his lips to yours once again. You could only savour the feeling of him.

He hugged you tightly afterwards, no one saying anything for a while.

"5 minutes" he declared.

"Let me have you like this for at least 5 minutes, please" and you could only hum and nod at his plea. You just hugged him back, closing your eyes and relishing the feeling of being in his tight embrace, listening to the comforting sound of his heart beating.

You didn't notice how the time passed by way too quickly, it's more than five minutes and you were ignorant of it. The sound of your tent opening is what brought the two of you out of your stances, glancing at the person's figure emerging with both horrified and panicked look.

And Bucky was once again awake from that dream. He tried to go back to his slumber after that. For a good few minutes he tried to find his comfortable position, changing from one place to another. Switching from side to side but he can no longer find his torpidity. The image of a flabbergasted Steve upon seeing your intimate position— emerging from your tent, never ceasing to leave his mind.

#Bucky Barnes #BuckyxReader #Bucky Barnes Imagine #Bucky Imagine #Sebastian Stan #Sebastian Stan Imagine #Sebastian Stan x Reader #Marvel #MarvelFanfic #Marvel Imagine #MCU #MCU imagine #MCU fanfiction #MCU Fanfic #winter soldier #soldat #soldatxreader #winter soldier x reader

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awed-frog · 7 years ago

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Hi! Sorry that I ask u this, u don't need to answer anyway: what would u say to a selfish bulimic and stupid human being, who can't do anything right? Not even like the other genre to at least make it a little easier for her parents? And please don't say "get help" bc I'm not talking about this (yeah it's harder to write in first person I guess whatever)

Oh, sweetheart. I would tell you that bulimia is a mental health issue, and being gay is just who you are, so neither is a thing you chose or something that’s even remotely your fault.

I don’t know how much this can help you, but here is my advice.

The bulimia needs to go. It’s an illness, and it’s a dangerous illness. I know you said you don’t want to, but if at all possible, you should see a therapist - it’s hard to guide you since I don’t know where you live, but in many countries, there are places when you can go anonymously and for free to discuss this kind of issues (hospitals, school psychologists, mental health centres). I think the best thing would be to open up to someone close to you (an adult if possible: maybe a teacher, or a relative you trust?) and explain that you need to talk to someone.

(Don’t say about what - that’s your business. Just ask for advice.)

If you feel you can’t do that, try to find an online community (it’d be great to connect with someone who’s living in your country) and ask them if they know of any therapists in your area. And, look, I know this is the last thing you want to hear, because I’ve been there more than once - a very good friend of mine struggled with anorexia for years, and I’m slowly getting over an eating disorder myself - but you need to let someone know. You need to get help. Mental health issues are almost impossible to overcome without some kind of external support, and accepting that is the first step on your path to get better.

As for being gay - there is nothing wrong with it. Nothing. In fact, it’s not always easy to know who we are at all, so I’m proud of you for figuring out your sexuality so soon (since you mention your parents, I’m assuming you’re a young person - I apologize if that is not the case), and, remember, you don’t owe that knowledge to anyone. From what I understand, you came out to your parents, and I can’t imagine the courage it took for you to do that, but don’t feel you need to live openly as a lesbian right now if you don’t want to. Your sexuality is your own, and no one’s business. So it’s not about ‘making it easier for your parents’ or anything like that, because your parents simply have no right to dictate who you should love. If your sexuality is a problem for them, that’s not your fault - it’s theirs. And again, I don’t know where you live, but the good news is that in many countries around the world, life for the LGBT community is improving. So I know you find it hard right now, but please believe me: it does get better. When we’re in a bad situation, we mostly see no way out, or we think it’s going to last forever (and this affects young people even more, because of how their brains are wired), but that is not the case. Things change. If you’re comfortable doing so, try to connect with other people from the LGBT community - find places, online or offline, were you can be yourself and hear about others’ experiences. That really helps.

And finally - your parents. It’s difficult to give you advice without knowing exactly what’s going on, but let me say this: I had many conversations with parents - I decided to talk to my mother about my eating disorder, and I also talked to parents of students and friends of mine (with their consent, of course), and mostly what emerges is this: most parents love their kids without reason but are not necessarily mature or good at handling relationships with other people, and that means their first reaction to anything out of the ordinary is worry and anger. So I would say - either your parents are reacting badly because they love you and worry about you, or they belong to that minority of people who’re just not capable of understanding, empathy, forgiveness and tolerance - not even when their own kids are involved. In the first case, they will probably come to accept that this is who you are (I’ve seen it happen several times), and in the second - walking away from one’s parents, or realizing they’re never going to love you the way you need them do, is always difficult and painful and profoundly unfair, but sometimes it’s the only thing you can do. And when that happens, the problem is not you - it’s them. They’re your parents, they’re adults - is their responsability to meet you halfway, and to be there for you no matter what. So if they can’t, it’s never because you weren’t good enough - it’s something wrong deep in their hearts - please don’t forget that. Now, whether you’re still living with them or not, please don’t let yourself become obsessed with those thoughts (‘My parents don’t like me, my parents think I’m not good enough’). Instead, focus on yourself. Make plans for the future, get better at what you like doing, create and nurture connections with people who love you - and don’t worry about your parents too much.

(Important: if you think you’re being abused, or that you’re going to get hurt or hurt yourself, seek help at once.)

Final note: I just reread what I wrote and I’m not completely happy with it, so let me get personal for a second. I’ve been where you are. I know what it means to have an eating disorder. If you’ve never talked about this with anyone, and if you’ve never read about these issues, you may think you’re the only one going through this - the only one ‘weak’ enough, ‘selfish’ enough and ‘stupid’ enough to behave in that way. That is not the case. You say you’re stupid and selfish - I see myself in these words. I know what it’s like to be deeply ashamed of who you are and yet unable to change. I know what it’s like to buy food in secret, to steal food, to eat food you don’t want to eat, to pretend you want to have dinner when you’re so full or so empty or so goddamned depressed you can’t even sit up straight. I know what it’s like to get caught by other people doing something you’re not supposed to be doing - how some are disappointed, others concerned, and others yet just shocked and angry and what the hell is wrong with you? You’re not alone in this. Almost five million women in the US suffer from bulimia. On fifth of the population has some kind of eating disorder, and statistically, in every class one student is struggling with anorexia nervosa. So I understand you don’t want to tell anyone, and I don’t want to be harsh here, or to scare you, but you need to. I know it’s hard, but you need to be brave and get help. An eating disorder can lead to anxiety, mood swings, and self-harm. It can do severe damages to your body. It can kill you. And the thing is, it’s an illness like any other, so that shame you feel (the same shame I felt - the terror anyone would find out) - that’s the sick part of your mind trying to stay sick. It’s not real. A health professional will never judge you, whatever you tell them. Talking to a therapist will help. You can get better, and you will. So, please - I’m not asking you to make a decision straight away, because I know perfectly well how hard it is, but please, please consider it. Allow the idea to get inside your mind. Get information about bulimia, contact a support group, connect with people who have experience with it. It’s unfair and fucked up that mental health issues should be considered so differently from other kinds of health issues. Think: if you had a broken arm, would you try to hide it? Would you say, ‘Just tell me how to get better on my own, because I’m not seeing a doctor’? Of course you wouldn’t. And bulimia is exactly like a broken arm. There is no difference between the two. And I understand how difficult it is to talk to family and friends about it - if you don’t want to, don’t do it - but you need to talk to someone. Doing what you did today - reach out anonymously - that’s a great start, and I’m proud of you for doing that. And you know what? When I read your message, I didn’t see a ‘stupid’ and ‘selfish’ woman - I saw someone who’s strong and brave and determined to build a life for herself. You’re gay in a world where it’s often difficult to be gay, and you’re going through life fighting against a disease every single day and you live in an environment that is not supportive, and yet you don’t give up - you chose to ask for help today - you’re a goddamn hero. Seriously - you’re an amazing person, and one day you’re going to look back on this period of your life and barely remember how painful it was. So - hang on, okay? Things will get better - I promise you.

Here are a few websites to get you started. I wish you all the best, and please come back and talk to me if you want to - on or off anon.❤

It Gets Better Project |LGBT Youth UK |GLAAD |LGBT forums

#ask #bulimia #eating disorder #lgbt teens #mental health #thank you for this message #i'm here for you if you need anything #okay?#<3

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