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sukirichi · 4 years ago

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no guidance

pov: you ask your step-brother to guide you in your first time

part of the everything step cest collab by @dilfhub thank you for everything! 💕

note. lol this rotted in my drafts for weeks but i finally finished it eeeee

cw. virginity loss, sexting, mild corruption themes, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), possessive! akaashi-ni, slight dumbification, pseudo-incest (step siblings)

You knew better than to associate with the likes of Miya Atsumu. As if him being one of the most notorious fuckboys in campus wasn’t enough of a warning sign, his reputation was also infamous for being the “Virgin Killer.” In simpler terms, he took pride in corrupting the innocence of whoever was foolish enough to fall into his trap, and yet there you were, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you shamelessly sexted with him.

Unsurprisingly, he’s asking for nudes. Again.

It had been approximately three months since you passed notes with the said Miya twin (and of course you liked the worse of the pair) before your friendship escalated into something...more sexual. It was no secret Atsumu had a high sex drive, something you were still foreign with, so you weren’t really taken aback by his open vulgarity over his desire to fuck you.

The first month, you were nice enough to sent him a snap of your titties. Albeit still a little shy over not having sent anyone such an intimate photo before, you were beyond exhilarated.

The next, you sent him a booty pic. It wasn’t anything sexy since you were only in your campus hoodie, the door locked because you didn’t want your parents walking in on you trying to get a good angle of your rounded buttocks.

And just last week, you finally gained enough courage to take a photo of your glistening pussy, sent with a caption of ‘thinking of you...’

Now, you weren’t stupid despite your preference to act naive and innocent. You knew your actions would entice him to lead into something more, if his dick picks that show him already leaking weren’t enough of a telltale already. But as your phone pinged and his name flashed above your screen, the words, ‘meet you at Issei’s party this weekend? I think I’ve waited long enough’ loud and clear – your heart dropped into your chest.

Without another thought, you shut your phone off and rolled to your side.

The thing was, you’ve never really had sex. You couldn’t even be brave enough to lose your virginity to your hairbrush or to buy a dildo despite your friends’ insistence it was much better than an actual cock (quote unquote: both can make you orgasm, but the former didn’t come with toxic attitudes of horny college boys.)

Sure, you’ve watched porn, and you watched a lot – but nothing could compare to the actual experience of it. Your fingers could only get you so far.

Glancing at your phone that kept lighting up with texts from Atsumu, you felt something stir deep within your stomach. Curiosity? Arousal? Nervousness? Excitement? Perhaps all a mix of both. You’ve heard from all the girls Atsumu’s slept with that even though he meant bad news, his cock could be likened of that of a blessing that converted them into ‘I hate him’ to ‘Gosh, I wanna fuck him again.’ Addicting, they called him, and now you were being offered a path to being on a path that most likely had no point of return.

You sighed.

The saner part of you warned you to stay away. There was no rush to lose your virginity now. Just because most of your friends had enough experience, it didn’t mean you had to be the same as them. After all, you came from quite...a strict household.

While everyone had been away from their parents and independently living in their dorms, you still stayed under the same roof as your father and step-mom, along with your older brother who was only a year ahead of you. Akaashi was a very sweet presence to have that you didn’t mind not experiencing that ‘youthful freedom’ too much, simply because your brother was a better company than whoever you could room with. He was kind, always ready to help, and you could confidently say you trusted him more than you did your closest friends.

Maybe that was the reason why you knocked at his room past midnight, shifting your weight from one foot to another. The faint sliver of light peeking from the cracks in his door told you he was probably still working on projects and the like, really not a good time to bother him, but you couldn’t hold on any longer.

At the back of your mind, this was the right thing. He was the right person.

“’Kaashi-nii...?” you knocked again, aware that he had a habit of listening to music on full volume while studying. “Are you there? Oh, were you studying, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to barge.”

Your brother stood in front of you, his headphones hung around his neck. He’d swung the door open to reveal that he was, indeed, previously hunched over his desk to work on something. Upon seeing the guilty expression on your face, Akaashi smiled at you in reassurance. “Hey, no, it’s fine,” he ushered you inside, setting you down at the edge of his bed while he sat across you in his swivelling chair. “Do you need help with homework again?”

“No...”

Turning away from him shyly, you opted to fiddle with your fingers as you stared at your lap. You had come here in a whim. You didn’t really think this through, and even though you’d been in his room a thousand times before, his dark blue sheets and tidy room that smelled sweetly of his detergent and vanilla cologne made you feel dizzy.

It didn’t help that he looked so mouth-watering in this light too.

Messy hair, long, slender fingers that absentmindedly spun a pen in those pretty hands of his, his dark eyes hazy and as welcoming as ever under the dim light of his desk lamp – how could you resist?

“What is it?” Akaashi quickly picked up on your silent worries. He’d always been observant, taking his role as your big brother seriously that he had attuned himself to sense even the slightest differences from you. Even though you’d only become family when you were already in middle school, it felt like you had known him for a much longer time than that, his warm hands rubbing soothing circles in your knees pulling the tension away from you.

“You know you can tell your brother everything, right? I’ll listen to you, you don’t need to feel scared or nervous.”

Guess it was now or never... “There’s this boy in my class...”

Akaashi’s eyes immediately darkened. All the warmth in his face disappeared, now replaced with a hardness you didn’t think was possible for such an understanding, patient guy like him. “Is he hurting you, forcing you to do something you don’t like?” his questions shot out one by one, and your eyes widened when he held you firmly by the shoulders. “Do I need to hurt someone?”

“No, no, it’s not like that!”

Your brother relaxed back in his chair. For a moment, your mind conjured up the dirtiest image of bouncing on his cock (and you know his cock is pretty after accidentally walking in on him changing clothes in high school) as he studied, but you quickly shook the thought away with a clear of your throat.

“What’s wrong then?”

You took a deep breath. “I just...I like him a lot and he asked me to have sex with him someday,” your words came out barely above a whisper, the courage seeping out of you until meeting Akaashi’s eyes felt impossible. “I said yes because of course I like him but...I’m afraid.”

“Hey,” Akaashi tilted your chin to look at him, his blue eyes pooling with worry and brotherly concern. “You know you don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“I just don’t want to disappoint him. I-I’ve never done it before and I feel like I won’t make him feel good. That’s why I came here,” you peered at him under your lashes, tongue darting out to nervously lick at your lips that felt uncomfortably dry. “You told me I could ask you for help in anything and you’re my brother so I trust you a lot to guide me on this one.”

The silence in the room was suffocating.

You were so close to running out of his room and pretending you didn’t exist for the rest of your life because what the hell were you asking? He was your brother, he obviously didn’t see you as a woman. You bet in his eyes, you were nothing but a little sister, and there really was no stopping him from kicking you out of his room until – “You want me to be your first time?”

You looked up at him so fast you actually felt your neck ache from the sudden movement. Heat spread all over your body, especially to your core at the unreadable expression in his eyes, yet it wasn’t...bad. He wasn’t rejecting you.

“Yes, please.”

Akaashi nodded at your hushed words. Slapping his palms to his knees, he walked to his bedside table where he pulled out an inconspicuous bottle with some sort of liquid you weren’t familiar with.

“Okay. Nii-san will teach you everything, but first, I need to prep you.” Fuck, fuck, fuck, this was actually happening!

You could barely process the events that happened next as he discarded his shirt to the ground, exposing his toned upper body to you from years of playing volleyball. While you sat there frozen and with a frantic beating heart, your brother barely blinked an eye as he gestured for you to take your clothes off. Wordlessly, you pulled your top off and shimmied out of your underwear. Too shy upon being exposed to a male for the first time in your life, you immediately headed towards his bed and closed your eyes, breath heavy and laboured as you waited for his next movements.

Akaashi’s hand went up to your knee, and you flinched at the contact, relaxing only when his soothing smile greeted you. “Lean back for me. Just relax and loosen up, okay? I’m not going to hurt you, Nii-san will make you feel good.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you did as he told. You were still shy, but you were feeling a lot less nervous. His hypnotizing gestures of caressing your thighs made you sigh in contentment as your head hit the pillow, legs falling open like it was second nature to spread yourself to your brother.

The thought had you biting your lip.

Before you could think too much about it, you felt a cool liquid being spread all over your lips. You gasped and clutched on the sheets out of reflex, staring forward as your brother stared at you cautiously, his lube coated fingers experimentally rubbing circles over your pussy lips. It felt so lewd for him to touch you like that – those same hands that always held yours in your weakest moments – yet it felt so good; the strange sensation tightening your chest.

“I-it’s cold.”

“I’ll warm it up for you,” he reassured, “How far have you gone? Any prior sexual experience?” Akaashi then began to playfully roll your clit between his fingers, eliciting a high-pitched whimper from you. He grinned at your reaction – so vocal for him already – and he was determined to hear more of it. “Ever tried sucking someone off?”

“No, but I’ve watched a lot of porn.”

“Porn is different from actual sex, baby,” the nickname fell so effortlessly from his lips that you didn’t dare question it anymore. Not that you could anyway, because the tip of his finger was prodding against your hole that was embarrassingly clenching around nothing. “How about here? Have you tried masturbating?”

“Don’t ask me such embarrassing questions!”

“You’re spread open for me already, you don’t need to be embarrassed,” You covered your face with your hands to hide, but Akaashi pried them away, his grip on your wrist both demanding yet gentle. “Tell me so I know how many fingers I can put inside you. I need to stretch you out.”

“Just one.”

“Louder, baby.”

“Just one finger,” you blurted out, finding it harder and harder to breathe the more he glided his fingers between your slit. Fingering yourself couldn’t even compare to the beauty of having him do the same to you, your arousal only heightened by his dedicated stare at your shaven pussy. From below your bodies, his pants had begun to home a tent.

“Two hurts a little bit and ‘em too sore.”

“What a tight cunt,” he commented with a smirk. “I’ll have to take my time with you then,” You nodded gratefully, about to smile at him with hearts in your eyes when Akaashi slowly slid a finger in. Your moan came out breathless and muted as you stared at him, mouth open in a silent gasp. The intrusion wasn’t anything new but he expertly pumped his finger in and out of it that your walls fluttered around him, head thrown back for another broken moan as he slid another digit. The stretch felt fucking perfect – the slight sting more than welcome in your virgin cunt that was now being fucked by your brother.

“Shh, it’s okay, it’ll feel better soon. Just relax.”

Openly, your slight squeaks of pleasure had increased in volume. Akaashi fingered you until he was knuckle deep, his other palm flat on your abdomen. Had you been in a better state of mind that wasn’t previously clouded with pleasure, you would’ve been embarrassed at the loud sloppy sounds of your pussy, but you remained there with trembling thighs, your nails digging at his thigh as you stared at him wide-eyed.

“Feels good?”

“M-more,” you begged through gritted teeth, “Nii-san, more.”

“Not yet, baby, you’re still too tight,” Sooner than you’d like, Akaashi pulled his fingers out of you. Both of you gazed at the webs of arousal between his fingers; your face painted in shock while he smirked at it, chest swelling with pride. Then, his eyes slid over yours, hooking his hands under your knees before he settled between your thighs.

“Come here. I’m going to go down on you.”

“Nii-san, no!” your protests fell on deaf ears, almost as if he knew you didn’t really mean it. His ears knocked with your knees locked around him, and you shivered as you felt his hot breath right before your burning cunt. “It’s embarrassing...don’t want you looking at my kitty like that.”

“Your kitty is very pretty and Nii-san wants a taste of you,” he mumbles while pressing kisses all over your pelvic bone, his sticky fingers massaging your inner thighs into relaxation. Your head pressed back harder on the pillows at the sensation, the pleasure too immense and he was just starting. “Didn’t you say you want me to teach you everything? This is just a few lessons you have to learn so don’t be shy. I’m sure you taste heavenly,” Clenching your jaw from the overwhelming bursts of ecstasy, you failed to notice how he dipped his head further, tongue darting out to lick a flat stripe. Your eyes blew wide open as he torturously and slowly dipped his tongue from your hole, the wet and warm muscle licking all the way up from your slit until the clit. “See? I told you. Heavenly.”

“’Kaashi, ‘Kaashi, oh, oh!”

“You sound so pretty but don’t be too loud,” Somehow, he managed to raise his arms and placed a palm over your mouth. “We don’t want Mom and Dad to overhear.”

Your legs trembled around him until you nearly suffocated him, but how could you stop when he was rolling his tongue side to side, licking and cleaning up the previous wetness he’d pulled from you?

It was too much, too good, and soon you were moaning behind his palm as you came all over his face.

Akaashi greedily slurped up the juices that squirted all over his face, unbothered by the mess you’ve made. He didn’t stop until he was sure you were completely clean, and you were already on the brink of overstimulation when he locked his lips around yours, sucking whatever he could take. Unable to take it any longer, you pushed his head away and fell on your side in a desperate attempt to catch your breath, sending him a seductive glare, only to soften as you his lips, cheeks, and nose shining under the moonlight.

“Nii-san, your face—”

“It’s okay, I’ll clean up for later,” he shrugged it off and stepped out of his sweatpants, ripping a condom you didn’t even notice he had. You watched with baited breath as his cock sprung free, the tip red and glistening with pre-cum. Akaashi rolled the condom over his throbbing cock and situated himself before you, pumping his length a few times before aligning it with your hole, sending you one last look of approval.

“You ready for my cock now? This might hurt a little bit. You just need to relax and I’ll go slow, okay? Tell me if anything feels uncomfortable.”

Nodding, you made yourself comfortable and braced the sheets for preparation, wincing a little as he pushed the tip in. Akaashi felt you clamp down on him, his hips stilling just as he loomed over you, his arms resting beside your head. In this position, you could see each detail of him – the thickness of his lashes, the love blooming in his eyes, the sweat beading in his forehead and everything soft and slow written all over his face.

“Still okay? I can stop if you want.”

You shook your head and wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him closer. He raised a brow at your initiation, but you merely smiled at him to hide the mild discomfort. “I can take it, just keep going.”

A few minutes later and a hundred still good? later, Akaashi had slid himself in. He allowed you to get used inch by delicious inch until he was completely seated inside you, hip pressed to hip and his hand caressing your cheek. “You’ve done so well,” he praised, “How does having a cock stuffed in you feel?”

“S-so full,” you replied numbly, the feeling of him throbbing inside your heat so fucking delicious. “Love nii-san’s cock.”

“Yeah? I’ll give you more then,” he warned, and you knew you couldn’t go back anymore when he placed his palm flat beside your head. Akaashi began to move his hips, slowly at first to let you accommodate to his length which your pussy hugged greedily. You were moaning left and right and his groans above you was erotic enough to make you cum on the spot, the pleasure doubling as your pebbled nipples grazed his toned chest.

“Nii-san! So big!”

“I know, baby, you’ll get used to it, don’t worry. It’ll feel better soon,” he rasped, scowling when you raked your nails down his back, though not hard enough to draw blood. It would definitely leave a mark though, and the pain of it urged him to move his hips faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through his room that began to warm by each passing second. “Feel better?”

“Feels so good,” you cried around him, reaching up to bury your head in his neck and clinging to him like a koala. It did feel so good, so much so that you just might get addicted to this. “Love Nii-san’s cock.”

At your words, Akaashi’s patience that thinned a while ago completely broke.

His pace increased and he gripped your hips tightly, sitting back on his knees just to watch his cock slide in and out of you. The lube made sex feel a hundred times better from how easily he’s easily punching through your walls, the sight of you splayed out for him – hair strewn across the pillow, little whimpers leaving your lips, breasts bouncing right before his eyes and abused pussy lips hugging his shaft – it made him growl with possessiveness.

“This is how you should be fucked – you gotta be fucked right,” he announced, thumb coming down to rub your clit. As expected, you cried out and tightened around him.

He faltered for a moment at how tight you were, but he kept pushing, driving his cock in and out of you until he turned into you a sobbing, slobbery mess.

“You sure that boy of yours can make you feel this good?”

“N-no, Nii-san’s cock only!”

“That’s right, it’s just gotta be me, okay?” driving both his hands around your neck just to clench your airway as a warning, Akaashi fucked you harder than before. The sudden inability to not breathe made you impossibly tighter around him that you felt each ridge and vein kissing your bumpy walls. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, I’m Nii-san’s property!”

“I’m gonna mark you as mine, claim this pussy as Nii-san’s only, yeah? You want that?”

“Cum in me, ‘Kaashi, cum inside!” you prompted, and what good of a brother would he be if he didn’t grant his little sister’s wishes? Growling, Akaashi snapped his hips hard until the tip of his cock successfully kept repeating that sweet spot in you that you didn’t even know you had. You were crying, moaning, too fucked to respond as you came, and your lewd expression was all it took before he was releasing his cum inside the condom. “Kaashi, Kaashi, ah!”

Akaashi quickly pulled out his cock and took a minute to regain his breath, his head cradled on his hands at the earth-shattering orgasm you both had. Not a moment later, he’s tying his condom and throwing it to his bin, finding his way right beside you as you blinked sleepily at him.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No, you were great. Just tired.”

“Do you want to sleep in my room tonight?”

You smiled at his concern, pulling him in closer for an embrace. He was warm and sweaty that it felt uncomfortable, but you wanted him beside you, and Akaashi began to caress your hipbones with so much tenderness. He knew he was a little rough for losing control like that.

“I’d love that, thank you,” you mumbled, more than ready to call it a night and sleep when his weight shifted off the bed. Akaashi rummaged through something in his drawers before he disappeared in the bathroom for a bit, coming back to spread your legs open once more. “Wh-what’re you doing?”

“It’s called aftercare. If your partner can’t provide this and pamper you, I suggest you break up with them,” he snickered, and you hissed at the sensitivity as he wiped away your cum with the towel. You soon relaxed, however, all thanks to Akaashi’s doting nature that you were falling asleep on his bed, allowing him to clean you up as he pleases. He set the towel aside and snuggled right next to you, his nose bumping your jaw to pull you away from dreamland for a little while. His previous sexual aura had now dimmed; his brotherly concern present again. “You still want to fuck your classmate?”

“Hmm...he’s really handsome, and I heard from the other girls he’s got a huge cock too,” you giggled, not really aware of your words as you said, “Probably even bigger than yours.”

Thinking that he might be offended, you almost apologized after a moment, but Akaashi only laughed as he hugged you tighter. “Size doesn’t matter. It’s who owns the cock and their talent in pleasuring their partner that matters,” he confidently stated, fingers running up and down your spine that brought chills down to your toes as he nibbled on your ear. “And I know I fucked you so good he can’t compare.”

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stufftippywrote · 3 years ago

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not an astronaut

This is based off a personal experience. Tw for fat-shaming, homophobia, and general assholery from an asshole kid.

The bell rings cheerfully as Bitty steps through the doorway. This was one of his favorite places when he was younger. The eclectic curios, every shape and size and color, packing the shelves were an endless source of fascination for young Eric Bittle, and the owners were friends of the family, so they knew Bitty well and didn't freak out when he picked up a ceramic pepper shaker or glass figurine and held it in his hands like an ancient treasure.

He walks through the store with that same sense of wonder now, 30 years later, and brushes his hand reverently over the shelves. They’re not looking for anything in particular today, but Bitty has told Jack about this place so many times, he simply couldn’t help but visit. Besides, you never know when you might find the perfect accent piece for the new home.

Chicken-shaped serving bowls, a porcelain figurine of a girl dancing, a set of silverware in a dusty wooden case. Bitty is spoiled for choice. As he browses, there’s a movement at the back of the store, and he catches a glimpse of someone hauling boxes through a door. He wonders who runs the place now. The sign still says Thompson’s Antiques, but he knows Mrs. Thompson passed and Mr. Thompson is getting on in years. Could it be that…

A prickle of fear runs through him.

The figure in the back drags the box to a nearby aisle and starts unpacking it, placing items on a low shelf. Bitty’s curiosity overflows. He moseys into that aisle and begins to speak, but the man raises his head before he can get a word out. He has to catch his breath all over again.

The man’s face goes slack. “I know you,” he blurts.

Eric puts his hands on his hips and gives a bright smile. “Davey Thompson. So you’re here after all!”

~~~

“Davey, this is Eric. Eric, this is our little boy Davey.” Mrs. Thompson’s smile is bright as she urges her son forward. “Why don’t you two go play at the playground while Mommy and her friend talk?”

The kid is tough-looking, with ruddy cheeks and a thick build. Eric reaches out his hand to lead Davey along the way. The minute they’re out of earshot, Davey snatches his hand back like he’s just touched a hot stove. Eric turns, surprised.

“You’re fat,” Davey says.

Eric blinks.

“You look dumb,” Davey adds on. And thus a quote-unquote “friendship” was born.

~~~

Davey stands up. He still has the same tinted cheeks and stocky build that Bitty remembers, but his face is sunken somehow, and he’s built up muscle where baby fat used to linger on his arms and shoulders. He’s got a tattoo on one arm – a Japanese koi fish, mid-splash.

“Nice ink,” Bitty comments.

And Davey Thompson, for possibly the first time in his life, smiles at Bitty. “Thanks.”

“The shop looks nice,” Bitty says, surveying the shelf like it’s his domain. “Hasn’t changed much since I used to come here.”

“You’re – you’re Eric Bittle, right?” Davey says, sounding almost scared of the answer. “From school?”

“From way before school,” Bitty responds. “You’re looking good.”

“Uh. Thanks. Same to you.” Davey looks uncertain, almost sheepish. There’s a moment of awkward silence. Davey tries to break it. “Um. So. What are you –”

He doesn’t seem to have the strength, or the will, to come up with the rest of the sentence. Bitty picks it up. “I’m a pastry chef,” he says. “I have a bakery and I cater, and I’ve put out three cookbooks. Can you imagine that?”

Davey looks kind of stunned. “Wow,” he says slowly. “Good for you. Where’s the bakery?”

“Up in New England. Providence, Rhode Island, to be exact.”

Davey snaps his fingers. “That’s right, you went to college up there. For hockey, wasn’t it?”

~~~

Bitty takes a swing at the ball. He misses, and it goes tumbling behind him into the net.

“Hah, you’re the worst goalie,” Davey says.

Somehow, Bitty finds the courage to say, “Let me play forward.” But his words are swallowed by the passing of a car on the cross street.

“What?”

“You be goalie.” Bitty gives the phrase all the menace he’s got in an eight-year-old body.

Davey laughs, a cruel laugh that sounds like ripping paper in Bitty’s ears. “Why? I can score on you all I want. That’s why we made you goalie.”

Resentment simmers like a low sun in Bitty’s gut. He wants to challenge Davey to play him on actual ice. He knows Davey can’t skate. As bad as he is, Bitty can’t possibly lose to him there. But the words stay stuck inside, plastered to the inside of his stomach, making him feel sick.

“Worst goalie ever,” Kevin chimes in.

“The worst, the wooooorst,” all four of them sing to him.

Bitty crouches low and is glad they can’t see much through the oversized goalie mask. Someday, he thinks, someday I’m gonna get them.

~~~

“Something like that,” Bitty answers easily. “And you’ve been here running the store?”

“Pretty much.” He doesn’t look very proud of that fact.

“I remember you used to say you were going to be an astronaut.”

“Ah, well –” The rose tint on Davey’s cheeks grows a shade deeper. “We were kids. I figure I missed my shot to make something of myself.”

All of Bitty’s nurturing instincts come alive. “Don’t say that. You’re doing well. Doing good, honest work. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Nah, man. It was just the easiest thing to do, once Mom got sick. I had to be here for her, and I … just stayed.”

Bitty gazes at him. This isn’t the attitude he expected from Davey Thompson, not in the slightest. He seems so defeated, as though Bitty’s arrival has reminded him of everything he isn’t. Bitty doesn’t want to be that for him, but he doesn’t think he has a choice in the matter. He quashes the small, self-satisfied demon that’s cackling in the back of his head. He’s not that kid anymore, either.

Just then, the chimes jingle at the front of the store. The babbling voice of a young child brightens the room. “Ah,” Bitty says, “there they are. He had to keep them outside a while before they calmed down. Little kids just work themselves up into a dither sometimes.” He offers an apologetic smile to Davey and retreats down the aisle toward the front of the store.

Suze is quiet, but it’s clear she was crying her eyes out earlier. She hangs on to her Papa with a fierce fist. Robby’s eyes are bugging out at the sight of the store. “What’s that?” he keeps asking, tugging on Jack’s slacks. Jack himself looks a little the worse for wear, but happy. That kind of tired-happy that they see in each other’s faces every night once the kids are in bed.

“Come on, Rob,” Bitty says, holding out his hands. “Want to see Daddy’s favorite store?”

Robby holds out his hands to be picked up. Bitty obliges, despite the warning creak of his back. He turns to take Robby further into the store and sees Davey standing there, staring them down.

He points. “I know you, too.”

“Ah, here we go,” Bitty says with a laugh.

“Were you in school with us? I don’t think that’s right, but—”

Jack holds out his hand for a shake. “Jack Zimmermann,” he says. “And you are?”

“My old friend Davey,” Bitty fills in. He can’t help but put a pointed emphasis on the friend part.

Davey clasps Jack’s hand but doesn’t seem to want to let go. “You’re Jack Zimmermann? The hockey player?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

Davey pumps Jack’s hand about four more times before finally letting go. “It’s – it’s good to meet you.” He looks at Suze, still curled up in Jack’s other arm. “And these are your kids? Or—” He turns to Bitty, face contorted in confusion. “Are they your kids?”

“Both,” Bitty answers cheerily. “Davey, meet my husband.”

Davey Thompson very nearly has a coronary right there.

~~~

“Hah, you’re just small all over, aren’t you?” Davey says with a pointed glance at Bitty’s crotch.

“You can’t help how you’re born,” Bitty retorts, but he pulls up his boxers right quick.

“Yeah, some people are just born stupid,” Davey agrees. Bitty instantly regrets replying at all.

Kyle whispers something in Davey’s ear. They both laugh.

“You’re right,” Davey says. He turns back to Bitty. “He’s right. They do say things about you.”

Bitty’s heart drops to his stomach. “W-what things?”

“You know! That you’re—” Davey flaps his wrist.

He doesn’t seem to have the nerve to say the word, but he doesn’t have to say it. The others in the locker room laugh.

For not the first time, Bitty is tempted to just ask, “So what if I am?” But he can’t. Not to these people. This isn’t how he wants his coming out to happen. So he just turns away and pulls on his sweatpants, ignoring the rills of laughter that echo against the lockers, and feels small. Small all over.

~~~

Davey recovers from his shock and nods his head rapidly. “Oh, I get it. Uh, congratulations. Uh, Bittle, could I talk to you a sec?”

He has that sheepish look again. Bitty watches as he retreats into one of the side aisles. “Gimme a sec,” he tells Jack, setting Robby down, and follows Davey.

When they're isolated, Davey turns to him sorrowfully. “I, uh—” Davey looks at the floor. “I was pretty mean to you in school.”

It isn’t what Bitty expected, not at all. To be honest, demons in the back of his head aside, this sort of thing doesn’t bother him so much anymore. Why should it? He’s married with two kids and a brand new home. He doesn’t spare a lot of time thinking about the distant past. “Um,” he starts, suddenly terribly embarrassed.

“No, let me—” Davey raises a hand. “Just let me. I said a lot of nasty things to you back then. I’m really sorry about it. I think about it a lot, and I’m just – I’m really sorry.”

There is a piece of Bitty that’s happy, even smug, at hearing this apology. But mostly he just pities Davey at this point. What a thing to carry around your whole life. “We were kids,” Bitty says. “Kids say dumb things. It’s all water under the bridge.”

“Still.” Davey says.

“I can’t say it didn’t hurt me,” Bitty goes on. “But I turned out okay, don’t you think?”

Davey laughs grimly “Yeah, look at you … and look at me.” He shrugs.

“You seem to be doing all right,” Bitty says charitably.

“I’m not an astronaut,” Davey says.

Bitty laughs. “Neither am I. We’re all good.” He pats Davey on the shoulder. A moment passes between them, silent, as they both listen to the sound of the past giving way to a new, kinder present.

After the moment passes, Bitty grins “Come on, I’m going to introduce you to my kids. Do you have kids?”

Davey flushes. “Yeah, I got a teenager. A real smartass. I wonder where he learned it.”

“Pictures!” Bitty declares. “Get that phone out, I demand pictures.”

Davey struggles to pull his phone out of his jeans pocket. This time, he flushes with pride. He narrates the story of each photo as they walk back toward the front.

#i hate writing endings: a novel #check please #omgcp #omgcp fic #omgcp ficlet #zimbits #but more really about bitty himself #stuff tippy wrote

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bonny-kookoo · 4 years ago

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Brave Girl (J.JK x Reader) ☁️💜🎀🔞

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader (ft. Med student!Namjoon)

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Good Girl!AU

Warnings: Heavy angst, traffic accident, injury, hospital, Jungkook is panicking, MC gets hurt, Koo is just lost and hates hospitals :(, Namjoon being the hero he was born to be, fluffy and dramatic smut, overstimulation, mild DDLG themes, protected sex because we wrap it up in this household smh

Summary: you were supposed to be home at 6 to help Jungkook devour the feast that is the freshly baked pizza he’d made to welcome you back from your trip to your parents, yet when the clock strikes 9 you’re still not home. Just when Jungkook is about to call you since you didn’t react to his texts, he receives a call from you; and he swore his heart stopped beating. Loosing you had never been a thought in his head until now, but he might just gotten closer to this reality than he ever imagined being. And he hated it.

Good Girl || Sweet Girl || Smart Girl || Brave Girl || Pretty Girl

"Alright, do we have everything now?" Jungkook asked, helping you place your pastel pink travel bag into his car, careful not to scratch all of the sparkling and colorful stickers on it. They looked a bit worn already, but you always felt a bit upset if there was another scratch to a prized posession such as your sticker-collection- yet when Jungkook told you not to put any more on your bag, you began to pout as well. You asked with a simple nod, already excited to meet your parents again after a long time apart. Jungkook offered to drive you to the bus station, not being able to bring you there entirely because he, quote unquote, 'didn't feel ready yet'. Many would've felt offended by that, but you knew not to read too much into it when it came to him- there were a lot of things for him that were still new, and his love was strong enough for you not to question it. You were both growing comfortable at your own pace, and that was enough for now.

Your parents had understood as well, even though your father had been a little more skeptic than the rest of your family; but he'd always been a little overprotective, so it didn't surprise you at all. While you were driving home, knees against the seat in front of you, you rummaged through your small backpack, taking out a small pack of gummi bears Jungkook had packed inside. He'd been so careful with everything, insisting on buying you this specific backpack because 'it's so soft, you can use it as a pillow inside the bus so you sleep better'. Maybe you were slowly making him soft as well? You were glad however that he had packed your headache medication in as well, long rides sadly having this effect on you sometimes.

Ever since you were a kid, you've always felt safe within public transport. You've been taking the bus and train to school for years, never truly thinking about the danger it could hold. Even now, with the pouring rain outside, you felt calm. Something that would change soon.

For now however, you just noticed how the jacket of the young man next to you slowly slipped off of his lap. He was asleep, you at least thought so, but you couldn't help but reach for the jacket before it could truly fall down onto the slightly muddy floor, your own shoes slightly at fault since it was quite muddy outside before you came in and sat down. "Ah, thanks-" He suddenly said, making your eyes widen at noticing how he only head headphones in. Maybe he hadn't been asleep after all?

"No problem" You said, putting your feet underneath your butt after having taken off your shoes. Your boyfriends' advice had proven to be quite nice after all, putting on comfortable loungewear such as your soft sweatpants and a large white shirt of Jungkooks collection (he had packed it in actually) were slowly proving to be way better than your typical attire. The guy next to you- Namjoon you'd found out on your first ride, having been seated next to him as well- looked quite casual as well. Instead of his more formal clothing he'd worn the first time you had talked to him he had switched to simply jeans and a loose sweater, something that made him seem a lot younger. "Listening to a podcast again?" You casually asked him, and he smiled, taking out one of his headphones.

"No, just music this time. That whole trip kind of drained me if I'm being honest." He explained, crossing his legs before conversing further. "What about you? Had fun with your family?" He said, genuinely interested it seemed. It was rare to find someone as honest as him. At first, you had been a bit careful, knowing that men usually had intentions that differed from what they were actually saying, but Namjoon had been just as friendly as before when you had told him about Jungkook. He just said that he seemed like a nice guy, nothing more to it, and still talked to you just the same.

You nodded your head at his question. "I was kind of sad when I had to leave again, but I also can't wait to come back home!" Excitedly you wiggled around a little, before you found a good position in your seat that didn't make your legs sleep in from being bend so much Namjoon smiled at you.

"I bet. I can't wait to fall into my own bed again as well." He said, before the bus swayed a bit, making you hold onto your belongings to keep them from falling down. Namjoon leaned into the middle a bit, to look at the front window and the driver. "Jesus, he's been driving like this for a few minutes now." He mumbled, making you a bit nervous. He was a very observant person from what you'd gathered until now, your first interaction had been him asking you about your headache even though you were sure it hadn't been too noticable. He was a med student however, top of his class he'd told you, so he probably had a third eye for things like that. "Hopefully they'll change drivers soon. He seems tired." He said, and gave you a reassuring smile. "It's gonna be fine-" He said, before the bus swayed again, this time however, pushing you against the front seat from the force. Seconds later the direction changed drastically, windows shattered, and the only thing you felt when you were able to gather your thoughts again was how cold it was.

The wet ground was slowly seeping into your clothes, the weird feeling of muddy grass underneath your hands as you pulled yourself into a sitting position foreign. One of the first things you were noticing was the incredibly high pitched ringing in your ears, sounds muffled as if someone was holding their hands over them. Things were blurry, lights passing by, and something was moving in front of you. For some reason however, you were only having one thought. Jungkook. He'd know what to do. But where was your phone?

You slowly got up, yelping in pain when your knee gave out and made you fall back down again, scratching the palms of your hands open on some random branches and.. glass? Suddenly you remembered the bus, Namjoon talking to you, and then- it was as if someone skipped a video you haven't seen before, an entire fragment missing completely. You crawled out of the bushes and onto the pavement when you spotted your wet and dirty backpack, your things and several unknown items of other passengers scattered everywhere on the street. And there, just a small distance from you was you phone- the hello kitty charm ripped off and probably lost forever. The screen was an absolute mess, yet it was still working when you reached it, unlocking it with your passcode because your fingerprint scanner was a definite goner for sure. Your headache was killing you at this point, your nose running from the cold, and your mouth had a metallic and bitter taste. It started to ring. One time. Two times. A voice.

"Creepy, I was just about to text you princess. Are you close to the station yet?" He asked, you could hear the TV faintly in the background, then a little movement, his earring clattering against his plastic case he had around his phone, something that still didn't help him with his curse of breaking his screen in record time. "Hey, you there?" He said chuckling, when you eventually answered him. "Hm?" He said, suddenly furrowing his brows invisibly for you on the other side of town, ceasing his movements and instead getting up to grab the remote, silencing the TV. He could hear faint talking on your side, yet it didn't seem like casual chatter, but frantic.. almost as if someone was panicking in the background.

"I said uhm-" You started, swallowing the weird taste before looking around, noticing no movement, but someone began to shout a name, another one softly wheeping, noises increasing with every passing minute. You could faintly spot headlights behind the bus, someone driving past had noticed, and people suddenly stood at the sides. But your vision hadn't cleared yet, so maybe you just couldn't see. "I think- I think we had an accident 'Koo, I-" You said, suddenly chocking a little on the fluid in your throat, coughing to get things under control and your voice back. The mention of an accident, the way you spoke, and the cliche noise of you coughing made him get up immediately, frantically running to his jacket, reaching for his car keys. You always told him how funny it was to you how he always told everyone how organized he was, yet always loosing his car keys. Right now he wished you would make fun of him, he wished you would just say sike and reveal your joke, yet deep down he knew you would never joke about something like this.

“It’s okay baby, you’re gonna be okay, where are you?” He stresses, trying yet failing to keep his own demeanor calm over the phone. You answer him that you don’t know, and he just feels the confusion radiating off of you. Something was terribly wrong, he could feel it deep inside his veins by the way you seemed to be unable to catch an actual thought. “Are you hurt anywhere?” He asks, even though he fears the answer you might give him.

“I..don’t know? My head hurts.. I- Jungkook I think I’m bleeding, what do I do?” You stress, and feel your own panic rising in your throat, making your eyes water and nose burn. You wished you could just tell Jungkook where the hell you were but you didn’t know, streets completely strange to your eyes, shifting around like a fever dream, as if you’d never seen them before. “Kookie, ‘m scared.. I wanna sleep-“ you began to mumble, less and less conscious, your head beginning to rest on the cold ground, the bus now beginning to shift out of focus. There we’re a few people walking around and you wanted to wave, to tell them you’re here, but one of them who you recognized faintly as the guy who’d been sitting next to you during the ride noticed you anyways.

Jungkook started to panic on the other end of the line, desperately trying to pin your phones location. “No no no baby, you’re so brave, you’re such a brave girl, don’t sleep in on me right now okay?” He pleaded, growing more and more anxious the less you answered him. “Baby? Don’t stop talking to me now please.!” He said, trying to get an answer out of you. But the only thing he could hear was the soft white noise, no trace of your voice whatsoever. “Baby? Please-“ he said, eyes watering out of frustration as he noticed the sudden commotion outside, cars suddenly driving out of his nearest police station, sirens loud and clear. “Please, y/n, talk, say anything!” He begged, voice choked with unshed tears, throat closing up.

“Hello?” A stranger answered.

“Who are you? What happened to y/n? Is she okay? I-“ he tried to rush his questions as if that’d get him the answers faster.

“She’s- uh- I don’t know, the bus just suddenly lost control and she- I think she’s still breathing but uhm- look, we’re at, uh-“ Jungkook wasn’t listening after he’d gotten the information he so desperately craved. He knew where you were. He’d get to you. He needed to get to you. And for the first time ever, Jungkook actually started to pray.

He finally found his car keys, ripping the door open to close it with a loud bang behind him, TV running but long forgotten. His stubborn car door didn't open instantly, making him almost growl in anger at it, eyes watering again when he remembered how you always told him to just get it fixed instead of buying a new one. You always had this idea of things having a soul anyways, so you always told him he needed to be nice to his car, or it would be upset. Right now he was not fit to drive. He did it anyways.

He groaned at every red light, hating how he couldn't just run them over because your absolutely stupid voice kept ringing in his ear to drive safely, he hated it right now, so so much, he could've screamed at nothing right now at how enraged he was. Why didn't he just fucking jump over his own shadow and drive you to your parents? None of this would be a thing if he would just finally man up instead of cowering all the time, simply believing that his time with you was endless. He knew it wasn't. He knew one day you two would pass. But that was supposed to be when you both were old and wrinkly, when you both had kids and grandkids, when both of you had enough stupid and disgustingly sweet stories to be able to make them gag at how he would still call you his most beautiful girl. This wasn't happening. He was going to make sure of it.

He reached the destination a little too far away, cars already stopping traffic, people on the side, watching, and he felt agitated again. He decided to simply turn his steering wheel, half-hazardly parking his car almost in the bushes next to the road, before opening the door with his key and phone in hand, closing his car door way too harsh as he could hear something crack, but his legs were already making him run at the fastest pace he had ever before. His hair and clothes, the black zip hoodie he had thrown over his grey shirt were growing damp from the mild rain coming down, yet he didn't care. He had his hood up, before it slipped down, his hands pushing past people, the need to insult them for staring and taking pictures instead of actually helping strong inside his veins, yet he simply portrayed his distaste at his not so gentle shoving to get past them.

Somehow he had apparently arrived before police or the ambulance had, because there was no one there yet. "Y/N!" He yelled, his voice frantic and almost unrecognizable, even to his own ears. He could spot people laying around, some helping others, and some simply waiting for help as he searched for your figure among them. He saw some of your stuff, the travel bag you had, now wet and scratched, your backpack, thrown on the street and some small items he could recognize as yours such as the formerly white bunny jacket he had bought you before you went on this trip. "Y/N!" He yelled again, and got someones attention a bit off the side near the woodside next to the road. "Oh no-" He whispered under his breath when he could see the guy leaning a bit over you, your head on the ground below, soft socks a darker shade than usual from the moisture they had picked up by now. You were laying on your side, the young man pushing a flannel shirt against your hip. He ran straight towards you, reaching out to grab you, just to have the stranger grab his hands instead, pushing at his chest. "What the fuck-?!" He exclaimed, ready to burst.

"We don't know how serious her injuries are at the moment. If you move her you could make the damage worse." He said, serious. "It's better to leave her like this, and wait for the ambulance." He said, unable to make the younger ones angry and frustrated face calm down, but he listened anyways, knowing deep down that he was right. "Kim Namjoon by the way, Medical student- trust me, I know what I'm doing okay?" He refrained from telling the younger one that you would be okay, having sworn to himself when he started as a med student to never give out false hope. Jungkook nodded, tears finally falling as he swallowed hard, simply running his hand over your hair, trying to give you reassurance- or maybe he tried to reassure himself that you were still there. Maybe even both.

When the ambulance arrived, you slowly gained a little more consciousness again, hand grabbing at nothing. "..'Koo?" You said, unsure if he was really there or if the smell of his bodywash on the shirt you were making was playing tricks on you. He gasped, leaning down, his other hand running over your bare arm softly as to warm you up.

"I'm here, I'm here baby, you're okay." He said, this time saying these words to reassure himself purely. Namjoon noticed you shivering after Jungkook did, and he instantly took off his jacket, even though it was thin, simply to cover you up. Namjoon yelled for the ambulance to notice them, and both of the guys breathed a sigh of relief when they were running over towards you three.

However, now Jungkook had to face another fear, apart from still possibly loosing you. He hated hospitals. Not in the quirky kind of 'ugh I hate the smell of disinfectant' kind of way, the kind of 'I rather cast my broken wrist with duct tape and wooden icecream sticks just to not have to go near this place' kind of way. When he was asked if he would like to ride with you his terrified eyes looked at Namjoon, the answer he gave an unsure, yet clear nod. He had to be strong right now. You needed him right now, more than ever.

Inside the ambulance, he didn't let go of your hand. You had a hard time answering questions, so Jungkook had to step in now. He kept his eyes on your face, trying to blend out the equipment around you two to not get riled up. Someone had to be there a hundred percent. The nurse noticed pretty quickly, laying a hand on his shoulder to hopefully calm him down. "She's stable right now, okay? We'll wheel her in as soon as we reach the hospital, someone will ask you for her information since we couldn't find her ID or anything on the scene, alright?" He asked, and he nodded, clearing his throat before he resumed watching you breathe. He would've never guessed how happy he would feel just to see such a small thing from you.

A hot cup nudged his hands that were over his head, and he slowly looked up, surprised to see Taehyung of all people in front of him, his newly red hair in complete dissarray as well as his clothes. He looked like Jungkook felt if he was being honest. "Tae?" He asked, voice rough while taking the cup from his friend. His friend simply shrugged, before He sat down next to him, eyes red. "What-" He started, but Taehyung leaned back, speaking quitely, oddly calm, considering his usually loud personality.

"I-" He started, before he seemed to think a bit about how to phrase his next words. "Someone I know was on the same bus." He said. "I heard you talk to the nurse at the counter." He explained when Jungkooks brows furrowed in confusion. "They've managed to stabalize her, but she'll need surgery tonight." He said, and Jungkook wanted to ask who the person was- yet he refrained from doing so. Him and Taehyung were close, sure, but exactly that was what made him stay quiet about it. He knew when it was okay to ask, and when to just shut up. And right now, he simply nodded at him.

"So we're both gonna have a sleepover here?" He asked grimly, pathetically trying to lift the mood. Taehyung just nodded.

When you woke up, it wasn't like it was usually displayed in movies or cheesy novels. It wasn't a slow, gentle breeze from your window, or the way your boyfriend spoke next to you. No, it was actually absolutely silent, except the constant beeping next to you. You actually woke up way faster than you hoped for, your eyes opening like you've just got ripped out of a dream where you fall downstairs or something alike. You heard Jungkook groan sleepily, before he eventually moved his head a little, turning so you could see how exhausted he looked. His eyelashes looked damp, tiny hairs bound together into little groups as he sniffled, head on your hand, open palm holding his cheek as if he needed to feel you even in his dreams. The sight calmed you down.

The change of heartbeat and pulse made the machine next to you switch sounds, and soon you heard the door open, a friendly nurse walking in, smile on her face as her gaze found Jungkook still in the same position as hours before, unbeknownst to you. "How are you feeling, miss?" She softly said, quiet as to not wake the young man who had been switching between crying, watching, or sleeping next to you for the past days. You swallowed, mouth dry, and nodded towards the empty coffee cups next to you on the small bedside table. "I'll get you some water okay? Welcome back miss. I'll just check your vitals for a second." She said, and you nodded at that. Checking the machines and you, she walked out, leaving the door open so you could hear a bit of what was going on in the hallways. Footsteps and sometimes the tune of someones phone going off, random words you were too tired still to understand, and an elevator. Jungkook stirred next to you, opening his eyes after taking a deep breath, yawning before his eyes found yours.

It took him amusingly a couple of seconds before he shot up, immediately coughing from having inhaled his own saliva. You laughed at that, flinching a bit when it made your body ache, before taking him in. He looked horrible, hair a mess, eyes red and skin a bit pale, yet he smiled brighter than he did back when you bought him the new destiny 2 game for his playstation as a surprise. His eyes glistened, suddenly getting a sparkle to them before his lip started to quiver. He dropped his head on your shoulder, silently crying, but this time, he cried from relief. From happiness. From just how much he loved the world right now for giving him more time with you, for giving him a chance to be the embarrassing father and naggy grandpa he always wanted to be someday. Your arm bend and your hand ran through his hair, not minding the long unkempt locks one bit.

The nurse came back in, smiling brightly with a tall doctor in tow, who had a friendly face as well. "Good to have you back miss. How are we feeling?" He said, trying not to grin at Jungkook, who had yelled at the man several times when he'd tried to tell him to go home and rest. You were oblivious to this obviously. Jungkook raised his head a little, using his flannel sleeve to dry his tears, clearing his throat to at least try to look like he got his shit together.

"Uhm, I feel like I had to take my fitnessgram pacer test again, plus a bit more muscle pain in my hip?" You said, making the man chuckle.

"That's completely understandable considering you flew quite a distance miss. We were quite surprised that you were fine breathing on your own, considering everything. You're quite lucky; but we're gonna keep you under surveillance until friday. Your bodyguard can take you home after 12 whenever he likes." He said with a smirk in Jungkook's direction, the one spoken of growing a bit red on the tips of his ears. The doctor leaves after asking you general questions such as, if you knew the current year, your address, and your personal information such as your birthday.

The nurse left the cup of water and a straw on the small table. "I'll let you both catch up. Please make sure she drinks the whole cup, but only a couple of sips at a time alright?" She said to your boyfriend, who nodded, having calmed down a little by now. He moved, his hand a bit shaky as he ripped the top of the papercover of the straw off, before taking the plastic drinking help out of its minimalistic packaging. He put it inside the cup after bending it a bit, before he moved to you, helping you with outmost care to sit up a little. You winced a bit when you tried to move too fast, and Jungkooks face got a little more serious at this. You began to pout at him.

"What?" He said, voice still a bit rough from the lack of using- and the simultaneous shouting everytime he'd opened his mouth these days. He sighed. "Come on, you heard the nurse- you gotta drink." He said, but you stubbornly moved your head to the side, sideeying him. His brow raised in a questioning matter, before he noticed your posture. You had your arms in front of you in a hugging manner, and he suddenly realized how his behaviour must've looked for you. "I'm sorry princess I just.." He said, putting the cup down and running a hand through his hair. "I just.. I was so terrified when I saw you there-" He said, having to swallow hard again so he didn't end up crying again. God, what was it with him again? "Why didn't you call an ambulance? Why did you call me instead?" He asked, a bit of whine to it. You shrugged, deflating a bit in your position leaned up against the pillows.

"You were.. dunno, the first one I thought of." You explained. In Hindsight it had been a bit dumb, why did you call him as if he could magically appear in that second to make everything better, but somehow your brain made that story into a real possibility. "You always make everything better, and you know.. you always know what to do so.." You said, and Jungkook breathed out in a sight.

He leaned closer to you, tattooed hand brushing away some of your hair to place a kiss to your forehead. "Oh baby.." He simply said, resting his against your head for a second, before his thumb brushed over your cheek. "I'm driving you anywhere you need to be from now on." He said, and you nodded with a smile. "Alright. Now come on, drink something." he spoke before picking up the cup, helping you with the straw, taking it away from you after a couple of sips, making you whine. "I know doll, but we don't wanna overdo it alright?" He said. You looked at him with a smile, and he happily returned it.

"Jungkook I can do that-" You said, before he silenced you with a look.

"I'm sorry, as cute as you look walking around like a newborn babydeer, I really like to keep you from falling down again, thank you very much." He said, accusingly pointing to the small bandage on your knee from having stumbled on your way into the kitchen yesterday. Your visible wounds were healing well, but you still had a bit of nerve damage from your nasty fall, which made your legs feel like they're constantly in a state between sleeping in and waking up, minus the pins and needles. They moved, yeah, you could feel them, yes, but it felt like they were wrapped in plastic and someone messed with the controls. Jungkook found it a bit adorable, but he rather not have you give him a shock again from almost hitting the kitchen tiles. Slowly, he came back with a glass of water, making you smile and thank him. He'd currently taken time off from work, having explained to his boss that he had to nurse you for a bit until you could be home by yourself. His boss had been pretty understanding, agreeing to him taking his vacation earlier and with short notice.

One thing you noticed however, was how careful Jungkook was around you. Now, that itself wasn't a bad thing, since right now you're a bit more fragile then usually so, but he was careful in a different way. Ever since you both left the hospital on friday, he stopped giving you goodnight kisses. He rarely hugged you, only ever if you initiated it, and he refused to be close to you during the night, making up excuses like 'I'm scared I'll roll you over during the night babygirl.' That was utter bullshit, because he'd never been worried about that in the past. He's a heavy sleeper and barely moves when he sleeps, so why would it be an issue now?

That was when the goddamn thoughts came back to you. Maybe he realized how close he'd gotten to you and didn't want that anymore? Maybe he wanted to go back to his old way of living, without any strings attached to anyone?

That night, you decided to speak up. Jungkook and you were sitting on the bed, you criss crossed, and him with his back towards you, feet on the carpeted floor. "You can, uhm.. you know, drive me back to the hospital tomorrow so I can get checked back in." You quietly said. He instantly turned around, his phone no longer worth his attention as his brows furrowed.

"Why? Are you okay? Did the stitches open up again?" He said, a bit of panic making his words hurry on their way out of his mouth. You shook your head.

"No, but I don't wanna, you know. You don't like me saying I'm a burden so I won't say it, but yeah. I get it, you know? Its okay, really-" You said, head lowering until you stared your lap. You heard and felt him move, his hand softly on your back.

"What're you saying princess? Why the fuck would you think I don't want you anymore?" He knew your innuendos by now, and he didn't like that you implied a breakup in your sentence one bit. "Baby I'm gonna take care of you now and everyday you need me to, you know that." He said, confused.

You looked at his throat, unable to shift your gaze any higher up, in fear of what his eyes would tell you. "But, you know.. if we're good, why.. why 'm I not getting any kisses anymore? No hugs? No nothing? " You said, starting to pick at your fingers. Maybe you were just making it worse for him. Maybe he'd just tried to figure out how to tell you in a good way, and you just made it so much harder for him to do so. However, the hand on your back left, just so he could take your body into his arms. "I'ts okay, you know-" You started again, and he hushed you.

"None of that, please don't talk like that, please don't." He said, almost breathless as if he was scared to say the words out loud. "Getting told I could loose you for good was terrifying enough already, thank you very much." He said, a dry laugh escaping him, humor nowhere to be seen in it. Typically he would relish in the feeling of his broader and stronger frame compared to you, he would smile at the mere size difference of your hands or the way he could easily pick you up and carry you anywhere he wanted to. But right now it only reminded him how fragile you were, how careful he had to be not to hurt you. He felt helpless, and it was a feeling he decided he'd hate until he died. "I just- I'm scared I'll hurt you." He said, quietly, hoping that maybe you won't hear. But you did.

Holding his face in your hands you were reminded again just how inexperienced he was in this entire thing as well. You always thought he could lead the way without problems, that he knew everything and could teach you what you wanted to know. Yet maybe you both could learn from one another, more so than just you from him. "You won't." You said, and you stubbornly kissed him as he tried to protest, pecking his lips with a newfound courage you didn't knew you had until then. He tried again, just to get another kiss. This went on for a bit, until he deepened the gesture a bit, hand finding its way into your hair, before he pulled away.

"Don't rile me up baby." He groaned, running a hand through his hair. He hated how much you could get under his skin right now, covering his lower half under the blanket you both shared almost shamefully. You kissed him again, making him laugh, finally this time for real. "Stop, I'm serious. You're still healing, or did you forget?" He said, and you whined.

"But you can be gentle! My stitches are coming out on Monday anyways, I'll be fine!" You said, and he had to chuckle at you, his mind being torn from side to side. He didn't know if he could, but the way you trusted him made him wan't to at least try. With a little hesitance he dived in again, making you smile against his lips.

He made you lie down again, slowly, crawling over your form, unhurried, as if you both got all the time of the world. And you had, he knew you had. When you whined, he simply grinned at you. "No no Baby, let's just be close, okay?" He said, voice low and soft, making you melt underneath him. For the first time ever, as cheesy as it sounden, it wasn't about reaching your highs anymore for him. He was a believer that good sex had to finish with as much pleasure as possible for him, yet that had entirely began to shift when he'd met you. Suddenly things weren't about him anymore, suddenly he started to become less and less self-centered; but this time nothing mattered at all. It wasn't about reaching your goal and claiming your prize in form of an orgasm, it wasn't about pure pleasure and satisfaction. No, this time it was about feeling as close to you as he could, he needed to feel every inch of you simply to reassure himself that you were still here, real, and with him.

He reached for the first drawer of the bedside table, your kisses on his chest and biceps making his heart race. Slipping the condom on with your help, not because he needed it but because you wanted to, he made himself at home inside you, mind slowing down with every move he made, his thoughts and body being reminded that you were okay, you were fine, you were still here with him, you didn't leave. Maybe he should be scared of how dependend he'd become on you, how you had sneaked your way past all his walls and made yourself at home inside his soul. Maybe he should be afraid or worried how he couldn't escape you anymore, how he couldn't take a fast exit out of the situation you both had made. But right now, none of that mattered.

Your mind was fuzzy, no thought able to be caught properly, and you let yourself slip even further, giving your entire being into his posession. This was just about being close, and you felt protected and safe with him, his pace slow and unhurried, gentle, and his hands reaching for yours, intertwining your fingers in a soft gesture. It showed just how much he was actually hurting, how much the entire situation had affected him; this was so unlike him that it made you feel proud of yourself to be able to witness it at all. He was laying himself bare in every way for you, and you didn't dare threw salt on his exposed flesh.

He didn't notice if he or you had come at all, continuing to move, yet never picking up his pace. When he watched your blissful face underneath him, his eyes stung again, tears knocking at the back of them, and he gently placed his head on your shoulder, kissing every part of your skin he could reach there, gasping and breathing hard. Never in his wildest dreams he would've thought that this would be the situation he would found pleasure in, yet it happened in that moment, and god, he felt like he couldn't stop. He felt like he could torture himself like this forever if it meant he could show you how utterly terrified he had been of loosing you, how terrified he still was deep down, and how terrified he would always be. He needed you like oxygen at this point, and it scared him shitless, yet even that was something he accepted with open arms and a smile in exchange for your affection. He was whipped for you, deep down bound to you by iron shackles, but he would never ask for a change whatsoever.

The night ended with both of you exhausted yet happy, tangled together under wrinkled sheets and a blanket thrown over your forms.

"I absolutely love you." You said, eyes wide and sparkling at the amount of junkfood your boyfriend carried inside the living room, coat still a bit wet from the rain outside. He brought a wave of cool and fresh air with him, making you shiver for a bit before your hand dived into the first paper bag, the crinkling sound ever so present. He laughed, throwing his coat over the side of the couch before he sat down next to you.

"You only love me for food, how tragic." He said, playfully sighing at it, watching you pout at him. "sorry baby, 'm joking." ruffling your hair he snatched a fry from the small bag you had in your hands, making you whine, but laugh at the same time.

Straightening your back you tried to look taller than him, making him chuckle. "I see this as a reward for not crying today!" You said proudly, and he smiled, nodding. You had gotten your final stitches removed, and even though it was still terrifying for both of you, Jungkook had finally faced his fear and came with you to your appointment, although he had still been heavily uncomfortable, rushing you both out as fast as possible. He was proud however, because even though you had every reason to, you didn't cry- simply squeezing his hand a bit, but nothing too much.

"I know, I know." He said, rummaging through the second large brown bag to fish himself a burger. "That's because you're the bravest girl ever-" He said, yelping when you snatched the food from him. "And also the most daring it seems, you gotta share baby!" He said playfully accusing, reaching for it just for you to hold it further away. "Good girls share, come on, I deserve a reward too you brat!" His hands reached for the item of his desire, making him raise his brows at you. Kissing your slightly greasy and salty lips, he laughed when you made a whiny sound at him. "Come on, this shit was expensive, let's eat."

"I've never seen you cry so much."

"Shut up."

"It was cute though-"

"Oh I'm about to be really fucking cute, get over here young lady!"

Taglist: @sweetenedcooky @ggukkieland @btsismybias22 @darkgvk @daddypkj @flowerprincess24 @crazylittlemay @zeharilisharaban

#bts #bts imagine #bts fic #bts smut #bts fanfic #jungkook #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts reactions

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unmechanism · 8 months ago

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I DO ACTUALLY !

I like Pete's line because it comes from a place of frenzy and panic. Nureyev cannot control the Ruby like he thought he would be able to, they're in the worst situation they could be in and Juno is defending the quote, unquote car when, if he truly was trying to help, he should be urging it to bring the keys as well. I feel like this really shows that Nureyev has reached his breaking point.

I like the wording as well "you don't care [...] either, do you Juno ?" - he feels so deeply alone in his panic, in his loss, that any disagreement is a sign of betrayal. Sure Juno came to help, but at that moment he's just like everyone else. He cannot understand the lengths Nureyev is ready to go to bring Slip back, no one that hasn't been in this situation can. Therefore he loses his grip even more, because what if Juno tries to stop him ? What if if this all fails because he accepted his help when he should've gone alone ? The question is rhetorical, but at the same time it's not. Nureyev is gauging to see if Juno is ready to follow, if he can actually trust him when everything seems to be falling apart at the seams.

Juno is calmer, but he's on edge as well cause the situation obviously isn't good and freaking out isn't helping, so he tries beating some sense into Nureyev. It's scary for him as well, he's never seen the man so frightened and close to breaking down in such a high stakes situation before. He has to stay in control of this very bad spot they're in, keep the man he loves from acting out and worsening it, care for the injured member of the group (Ruby not doing well) when he can usually count on it for last minute saves. He feels utterly alone for a minute there. It's truly a test of every good reflex he developed this last year, of the work he put into being better.

But of course it hurts and more than that, it's frightening to witness Nureyev still thinking of Slip as the priority in this instant when someone could come in and kill them both at anytime. So he snaps back at him, tries to get him to rethink his priorities, to get into a rational mindset. But there's also disbelief in the question. Cause saving them should be the only thing on his mind right now, and that not being the case is definitely going put them in more danger than they already are in. He realizes how unsteady Nureyev is, how unprepared they are for this.

" Slip ? What about us ?"

And then Nureyev just doesn't reply, because that "us" is too problematic for him to even begin to think about. 1. He cannot express the fact that his own life doesn't matter as much as his debt to Slip does. 2. His life is currently tangled with Juno's, meaning that while Slip is his main preoccupation, he still couldn't let something bad happen to Juno and that creates the kind of unbearable tension he left to not have to deal with in the first place. 3. Hearing that "us" rubs salt in the wound of mixed feelings he's experiencing - it's not just "us" as the pair of them right now in this room, it's their entire relationship, the love they share and what Peter is willing to sacrifice for something he knows deep down to be an illusion, a con. And that's too much to think about right there.

So he takes it out on the Ruby, again. Trying to regain control on something, anything. Except Juno won't let it slide, because he knows first hand it's not only unfair to the oens he's taking it out on, but that it doesn't help with anything.

And I can't stop thinking about how Nureyev is so in over his head he doesn't realize exactly how much Juno has changed and how deeply it can be felt throughout this small exchange.

so yeah, I like these lines a lot ♡ @ceaseless-watchers-special-girl

#insane ramblings #tpp #juno steel #peter nureyev #the penumbra podcast

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razorblade180 · 4 years ago

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Interdimensional Moms pt4

Part 3 here! <-

The tales had be interesting. The tales had even been emotionally gripping, yet all of them so far didn’t seem to register at the moment as Ruby’s teammates looked at her with the same excitement she used to give her own mother during story time. Ruby couldn’t help but give a little smile.

Ruby:I take it you’re ready for my turn? You do know it’s not exactly a sunshine and rainbows story, right?

Weiss:We figured as much, but....

Yang:You’re so different! From the moment you showed up I could just feel it in my gut. You have this...presence about you. Not to mention intsene confidence.

Blake:Yang is right. You said you beat your Salem when your seventeen. That’s...scary if I’m being honest. Such a drastic departure from any of our worlds.

Ruby:*red* Hehehe ummm I guess I’m just awesome? Really I don’t think it’s the most outstanding feat. At least by my worlds standards I suppose. I mean sure, I’m consider cream of the crop there too but there’s talented people and challenges all over that would put me through my paces still. I’m just...me.

Weiss:Sigh...honestly, I suppose that means our own skills must pale in comparison to our counterparts.

Ruby:Mmmm I wouldn’t say that for sure. My Yang would kill me if she heard this but there’s something about the one right here that has spark I dig.

Yang:Really?

Ruby:Uh huh. Can’t put my finger on it but I think you take her if you want it bad enough. As for Weiss....couldn’t tell ya. Haha, I know better than anybody to not underestimate the power of mother, and you pumped twins out.

Weiss:Not sure if those are pity points or real ones but thanks either way.

Blake:You don’t even have to tell me I’d lose. Just gave an entire story about me an my condition.

Ruby:Don’t feel too bad about it. I can’t imagine much reason for you two to fight for any reason. You’re both too reasonable to not reason with yourself.

Blake:Aw I’m touched.

Yang and Weiss:We aren’t....

Ruby:Hahaha I’m just saying! So, I guess I take things from the top like you all? From what I learned from all of you our Beacon experiences really are more or less the same, not counting certain interactions between a bookworm faunus and an adorkable blonde knight. Enrolled early, blew up the entrance, Weiss was rude, Yang ditched me, all the same beats.

Yang:There’s no super badass change like you beating Cinder the night of dance and making our entire lives easier?

Ruby:Ha! I wish I was that legit. No, I was very much the young girl tripping in heels that night. Vytal festival came around and was attacked, then Beacon fell. Pyrrha was lost and so was Penny. Difference being that was my last time seeing her, unlike Weiss’s story apparently.

Weiss:Yeah that...that’s a little bit of shock to be frank. Sorry.

Ruby:No worries. Not like you did anything and it was decades ago for me now. After that day is when I started to get a bit more serious I think. I had always taken being a huntress seriously and never slacked of in trying to live my dream. However, my perspective may have honed in on just how do or die life his when you’re the one choosing to walk into unknown danger. Team RNJR’s first and only mission, save the world!

Yang:Sub mission: Flirt with Jaune Arc.

Ruby:*blushing* We do not choose who we fall in love with it. But yes, that may have been a personal pseudo mission for me. He’s my first friend at Beacon for crying out loud and I you know.....thought he was cute then too.

WBY:Yeah that checks out.

Ruby:What does that mean!?

Weiss:Ruby, even my Ruby admits to finding Jaune attractive and having a crush on him back in the day.

Blake:Same.

Yang:I already went into enough detail on how my little sister feels about Jaune. Your just the reality where you pounced on the opportunity and never let go. Struck when the iron was hot and none of us were around; sly fox.

Ruby:Gee you make it sound underhanded. It isn’t like I intended to actively pursue him. Everyone was really sad and stressed traveling to Anima. There was a tension in the air. One that really strained us. I did my best to keep focus, but a leader is only as put together as team. Ren and Nora confided one another as usual and I tried being there for Jaune because seeing him emotionally shut down was rough; so I did my best to be there for him. Then...he ended up being there for me and I was the one who needed comfort. All the airing out and late nights just...led to....*red*

Blake: “Breaking the tension?”

Ruby:I guess that’s one way of putting it. We were lonely. I hid my feelings best I could under the veil of comfort in the moment. Not that needed to. He made it pretty clear that he wanted me in the same way I wanted him. I just the two of us were too scared to ask for promises we weren’t sure we could keep so we loved in the moments we could, so to speak.

Weiss:If it wasn’t under dire situations, all that sounds oddly romantic.

Ruby:Right!? Looking back at it makes the entire thing seem romantic but I definitely wouldn’t wish a similar experience on anybody! I guess it’s what I wished for when I fantasized huntress life huh? Things obviously got better along the way. Our relationship got a bit more serious right before we got to Haven. Then Tyrian and other crazy stuff happened that threw all of us into panic mode again before slowly getting better again by a lot.

Yang:We showed up?

Ruby:Bingo! You and Weiss, met Oscar, and then eventually Blake came back. Things were on the up and up.

Weiss:Uh, Haven attack?

Ruby:We lived, up and up. Yeah you got stabbed but you know...that’s not new I’m sure.

Weiss:Yeah I have the scar and I’m still little pissed.

Ruby:Valid. Anyways, so my Atlas experience was different as hell. There was no formation of Remnants armies like Weiss spoke of or even between two kingdoms like Blake. Yang, what happened yours again exactly?

Yang:Nonsense. Cinder showed up with lackeies but not Salem’s lackies. Those people showed up separately, then Adam came back from wherever the hell he- a lot! A lot of people showed up for different reasons but also the same reason and to be frank, we all almost got shot by the military for being in bases that quote unquote, “didn’t exist.”

Ruby:Man I wish we traded. That at least sounds crazy enough to be fun. Just a rollercoaster in the dark basically. My experience was probably as hectic, but also way more streamlined. We showed up, and then all hell broke loose. Specially a mass grimm invasion lead by Cinder and her annoying associates. We were there for about three weeks updating General Ironwood and getting our barrings together when it happened. I wanna call it a hit and run tactic but it was clearly planned in advanced. Mechs were hacked again, traitors in the military, grimm lying in wait before hand; it was chaos! All for the relic.

Blake:Who was the maiden?

Ruby:Never met her. By the time we got there, Ironwood was panicking because she had vanished, taken right from under his nose. It was some young girl apparently, really young. The attack on Beacon looked like child’s play to this. Mantle got attacked, grimm were on the chains, they tried dropping Atlas to the ground; all a diversion for a relic. We all should’ve died, and yet, we didn’t. Winter and Weiss weeded out traitors, huntsman and military held the line, Yang bested Hazel with Nora, Qrow and I cut down Tyrian! Ren, Blake and Jaune helped the kingdoms while Ironwood struck down Watts. Nobody was in the mood to die that day. There wasn’t gonna be another Beacon. By all means, we were pissed. Even Raven showed up of all people.

Yang:What!?

Ruby:You can’t attack a kingdom without the world knowing. Especially when traitors leak info. Honestly she came for you though, or she never left to begin with. Couldn’t tell ya. Thanks to Maria I had a bit more handling with my eyes. That helped a lot. Without them and Os-

She stopped herself, choking on the words. The zest and excitement of recalling the heroic feats of her friends dimmed slightly with her smile. Her joyful smile became bittersweet like the memory.

Ruby:Then there was Oscar, the real warrior on that flamed filled night. That battle had to have been three days at least. We were so driven, and so tired. I was tired, but Cinder, Neo, and the others with her at the time weren’t; always showing up at the worst time. I managed to push Cinder back in a fight but grimm and others still swarmed. We were at a point that grimm very well might’ve did us in and the villains didn’t have to push any harder. But Oscar changed that. Hehe, what’s it about country folk that makes people like him and I not hesitate to grit our teeth? That dork looked at me, gave me the biggest smile on the the steps to Atlas, and then he left. His hair went white as he twirled the cane and then he left, forever. Oz came out, and he left nothing to the imagination. “Limited magic” my butt. He obliterated grimm and made a barrier aroma Atlas while everyone else cleared Mantle long enough for the world to send reinforcements. Salem didn’t get the relic, but she got the maiden and thousands of casualties. Oscar being one of them. Also, Whitley....he was in critical condition for a very long time.

Weiss:What do you mean...critical condition?

Ruby:Everything happened so fast Weiss. Panic was high, buildings fell....a piece on him. I wasn’t there but when I eventually found you, you were nearly hysterical and banged up. By some miracle he lived even though we could not reach him and he did not get aid for awhile. We thought him dead. It was only after everything we learned somebody got him. Being rich never paid off more than with medical bills. Thanks to youth and medicine he can still walk, but he can only do so much before being tired. He also left Atlas. The cold hurts.

Weiss:So, I run the company because he can’t?

Ruby:I wouldn’t put it that way, but it was one of dozens of reasons that made that goal stronger for you. Relax though, both of you get plenty of time to be witty siblings like I told you earlier.

Weiss:I know. It’s just, I guess it’s hard imagining Whitley hurt like that. I don’t think I could handle it.

Ruby:You definitely teetered in the moment. Knowing that happened though probably gave you anger and grit to fight the entire battle. You were a beast. Scarier than Winter. Anyways, that hollow victory was a real wake up call for the world. They didn’t know about Salem and we never told society in earnest. Cinder and other conspirators were enough to make Remnant work together to boost defense. Relief went to places that needed it and I, became the face of hope. Haven, Argus, Atlas, even people from Vale got to chattering of a particular group of people who always seemed to answer the call for help. Then the towns in between chattered. Yours truly had been carving a name in the history books and was only gain popularity the moment I stepped into Vacou, alone.

Blake:Alone!?

Weiss:What!?

Yang:Where were we!!!!!?

Ruby looked at surprised faces around the table, smiling tenderly. She looked down her dress and pulled out the cross she wore around her neck. Her thumb traced its edges as her mind began wandering down an old path paved with emotions raw to the core.

Ruby:I’ve always felt different. Not just because of my eyes but that there was just...a certain spark that never stopped going off for as long as I remember. There are plenty of people who can’t bare to watch others suffer, but there are fewer people I believe that truly feel the agony of other people’s pain. Beacon, Haven, Atlas, Argus; there was no place I went that I didn’t see the faces of others lamenting, and I didn’t make me want to grieve. Atlas took so much out of all of you and I just felt so....driven to stop that ache. For everyone’s sake, but mine as well. I wanted the world to finally get to the happy ending. Enough trauma had be sowed for a hundred lifetimes, so I went on ahead of everyone. I never doubted you all would follow but I wanted to get ahead of the curve and take on as much of the suffering I could do others wouldn’t. If the world wouldn’t give me a miracle than I’d be it myself for everyone else.

Yang:That’s suicidal! Salem wanted you specifically!

Ruby:It’s not like I went marching up to her door and said “1v1 bitch, I’m here” no, I just chose to move forward quicker than what we were all doing. Believe me, all of you were upset when you caught up, after I had already saved Vacou. *smiles* I really like that place. I told the people it was the next target and all they did was double down on pushing back. I managed to pin down the Summer maiden before the villains and thanks with the city on alert, there wasn’t a shift in the sand that didn’t go unnoticed. I got the jump on Mercury and Emerald, personally paying them back. Can’t say I didn’t enjoy it. It didn’t take long before they realized how screwed they were with them being outed like this and Cinder having the nerve to retreat before hand. Both of them threw in the total, outing the plan against Vacou. A wipeout of a win. Not to mention they told me the location Salem’s little hiding hole.

Weiss:We missed all of that?

Ruby:That’s what happens when I leave in the dead of night and running on adrenaline. Like I said before, people were tired. As much as all of you wanted to hoof it, other’s were relying on you. Atlas almost dropped for gods sake. Eventually when you all caught up it was at a good time. Soloing was rewarding but difficult. Fortunately Sun, Neptune, Ilia, and a few other familiar faces were close by if I needed an extra set of hands. My little stunt earned the anger of everyone for awhile.

WBY:Yeah no shit...the leader left.

Ruby:Yang was the most upset, followed by Uncle Qrow, and you Weiss. I was ready for the blowback. Jaune and Nora saw me though and bursted into tears. Hehe, wasn’t ready for that. Felt terrible and cried back. To prevent that stunt again, my Yang convinced Raven to link me. A couple days of apologizing and rest smoothed things over. It also gave time for just a few close friends and colleagues to get together for an assault on Salem’s castle. A few were apprehensive about it at first but at the end of the day I was going. That attitude was infectious apparently. You guys, actually everybody, they started getting this hunger to end it all. Maybe it was the high of victory? Regardless, it sent me racing to the end with those that I loved most.

Yang:You’re a real “my way or the highway” kind of Ruby. I don’t get how that explains what made you so...elite.

Ruby:I’m not sure what to say. A fight needed to to fought so I fought it. A cry for help was heard so I ran to it. A grimm needed slaying so I slayed it. People needed me to win so I didn’t dare think of losing. Dying was never option, even when it stared me right into my eyes. I had things I wanted to do and people I wanted see for years to come. I guess...I am strong because of the fact I want things my way. A moment I’m not giving it 110% is a moment wasted. After all, a huntress is all I ever wanted to be.

A single dream she wanted since birth. The never ending desire to be the hero in stories told to her many nights ago. That’s all it ever was. That’s all it’s ever been. Even in meadow of beautiful red roses, one would be the rose that captured the eyes of many, that bloomed stronger than the rest. As simple as it was, that had to be the answer here. Weiss, Yang, and Blake were in front of that flower. The Ruby Rose that simply bloomed stronger than the rest. The one that clung to her dream as if letting go meant dying itself. The devotion was inspiring, yet also overwhelming. If this was Ruby they had lead them that day in the Emerald Forest, could they have kept up? Could she be the leader they followed? No, they couldn’t have. Something deep down inside them gave them that answer. No matter how she looked and how much she loved, this Ruby Rose was cut from a cloth they simply weren’t off. The same as others, but oh so different.

Weiss:You’re....kinda a monster, you know that right?

Yang:Seriously, I’m so...floored. It’s intimidating.

Blake:Not to mention humbling. I used to think I gave it all I had. Now I’m not so sure.

Ruby:Oh don’t be like that you three! You’re all living proof there was more than way to go about life, this war! Everything you gave was enough because you’re done with it! Nobody failed. Besides, I...am far from ideal. The assault was challenging. Getting around hoards of grimm and making it to Salem was hell made real. Neo tried taking another shot at me but Yang held her off with help. Everyone pushed the obstacles in front of me out of the way as I went to Salem herself. Cinder had been abandoned by her and stripped of a lot of her powers. Angry and desperate, she tried killing me again as a way to prove worth. I beat her. However, I let her walk away.

Yang:What!? Why would-

Ruby:Naive, I was...naive okay? She was all spent and though I hated her, I just couldn’t. Not when I looked into her eyes and saw that same hunger I had to claw and scream at my dream until it was in my hands die inside her. We both knew from this point on there was absolutely nothing she could do where this ends her way. All she worked for turned burned to ash. So I gave her the choice to not burn up with it. Cinder swallow her pride and then fled. A part of me couldn’t help but rationalize killing her didn’t solve or justify any of my beliefs or desires. It would’ve done it because I hated her like she hated me. That was the dumb logic of a seventeen year old who never quite learned to take things slow.

Blake:....I don’t think it’s dumb. Naive for sure, but maybe that’s good? Even my Ruby, she never wanted to act on hate. She didn’t. Salem lives.

Weiss:Mine sent her soul to be at piece instead of passing a cruel judgment.

Yang:As a person who’s seen what you looked like with nothing but vengeance inside, I can say it doesn’t fit you. Before that day you had a warmth inside you to even foes that were somewhat admirable. You chose to leave Cinder’s fate up to those who had that hate and Salem was undone by her own doing at the very end. That’s what really makes you special Ruby. That’s why you’re called an honest soul. Good will is your nature.

Ruby:....Hmm, you sure know how to butter me up. *scratches head* I guess that part of me is uni-I mean multiversal. Strangely, that makes me feel better, to a degree.

Weiss:Do we even have to ask what happened to Salem at this point? I doubt the story ends with you loosing and having to retreat.

Ruby:Who’s to say it doesn’t? I could’ve been beaten to death before the gods themselves descended down to revive me with awesome power.

Yang:....Did you?

Ruby:Wh-No! Haha, I made her an immortal statue.

Blake:I-It was that easy?

Ruby:Well I wouldn’t call rushing into hell’s castle easy, or Salem. I lit her up at least a dozen times. My head pounded from each use, I was tossed around a bunch, magic is annoying, and not to mention running out of ammo. I left nothing to the imagination in that fight. If it were easy then I wouldn’t be rooting my horn and my age doing it. I was so tired I blacked out afterwards. I woke days later with a sore body and the title of “Remnant’s Savior.” Apparently beating Salem had weakened the grimm everywhere and all of you made sure who was to be thanked for it. That’s the tale of how I saved the world with my friends. Love, trust, elbow grease, and a lot of bullets. Before the final battle, Ozpin had struck a deal with everyone involved. In return for saving the world, he’d cut ties with us.

Yang:Seriously? What brought that about!?

Ruby:Good or not, he lied and was a schemer. Sure I was gonna try to save the world regardless of his interference but there wasn’t a person alive that didn’t to finally take a step towards the future after all this. All of us finally had time chase dreams and help the world the way we wanted to before all of this. Blake begin mending hate, Weiss took back her company, if Yang wasn’t with Blake then she was seeking more answers to Raven on wild adventures.

Yang:You mean Raven still left after all that!?

Ruby:In her defense, both of you made everything fucking awkward when she was around. It’s like you both wanted to talk about something but knew any subject was a land mine so you all you ever did was...stare, like weirdos. Glad that’s in the past. She just lives with dad now and you two now to hold a conversation. I dare not ask for more. I’d be a granny by the time I did.

Yang:Sigh...I don’t know what I expected. Shit it the fan several times and children were born before mom and I found solidarity and understanding. What did you do afterwards? Your goal was already met.

Ruby:Like hell it was! I started busting my butt traveling around the world, visiting every place to help in anyways I could. Ren and Nora tagged along for awhile before going off to make an orphanage in Anima near Ren’s old village. That left Jaune and I to do our hero thing.

Yang:As well as other things....

Ruby:Hey, what can I say? We were young and going up in the world. By the time I was nineteen, I was now a married to my partner and best friend.

Weiss:Uhhhh-

Ruby:He’s my partner on RNJR and you’re my BFF, gosh did I really need to explain that hehe?

Weiss:I just had to make sure. Crazier twists could happen.

Blake:Wow you married young. Not that there’s a problem but I’m surprised. Then again you also dated earlier than my Ruby. Hehe, weapons were on her brain for a long time.

Weiss:No kidding. When I learned about you crushing on my brother I was shocked to find out you liked anybody in general. Especially a person who isn’t a weapon nut in the slightest.

Ruby:*shrugs* All you’re telling me is I’m clearly the most impatient or impulsive Ruby you all know. Don’t know how that happened. Maybe I was dropped as a baby or had one too many coffees growing up?

Weiss:I’m willing to bet it’s both.

Ruby:Ruuuuude. So yeah, that’s...the story of how I saved the world and married Jaune. We even built a home just outside Vacou, overlooking the kingdom and neighboring town in the distance where Maria grew up. Yeah, that’s me....more or less. All the triumphant parts anyways. Anything later on is......

.......

Blake:R...Ruby? You okay?

Ruby:Nope, not really. *clenches cross*

Yang:......You know, I never really got religion, especially after learning the truth. It just seemed completely hollow when you learn of the real gods, ya know? However, I changed my tune a bit after being a parent and then some more when uncle Qrow died. It was never really about the truth behind if those other gods were real-

Ruby:It’s the piece of mind in believing in a better place for loved ones and having people watch over you. It’s truly based on blind faith in every sense but that’s okay as long as it gives peace of mind, to stay strong. Yeah....that’s why I wear this.

Yang:If that’s the “why” then I guess the unavoidable question is what happened?

The reaper leaned back in his chair, letting out a long sigh. Ruby brushed her hair out of her face while her face went pale. Then, Ruby’s eyes, her teammates watched a pair of stunning silver eyes dim, becoming akin to a clouded mirror.

Ruby:Being a huntress was all I wanted. The plan of having a family and settling down never appealed to me much. I feel, I felt like being in the field was where I was meant to be. It’s where I was most myself in a way. So the day I learned that I was pregnant was more than a little upsetting and terrifying, until dad and time itself filled me with the most genuine joy I may have ever experienced. Dustin Arc Rose, my first born son. He opened a door to a world and life I never knew I wanted to be apart of. Then...that door was shut minutes after, when Cinder and Neo stole him right from my arms. I couldn’t do a single thing about it other than blackout. That single act of good will I showed, it did nothing but kill me inside. The same way I did to her.

WB:.....

Yang:Ru-Ruby....your eyes.

Ruby:Hmm? Are they clouded? Funny, I would’ve thought your Ruby would’ve had a similar change. Maybe that’s a world exclusive thing, or a testament to the will you Ruby has to endure. Clouded eyes on a silver eyed warrior means the person has lost the desire or rather the mindset of persevering life. Be it their own life or wanting to end another’s life out of resentment, strife. My entire world fell apart when I woke up and learned nobody was able to retrieve Dustin. I was in pieces, Jaune was broken, nobody was the same. There wasn’t a soul we didn’t know that hadn’t tried to find a lead, but we never did. He was just...gone; and I couldn’t cope at all.

Weiss:I don’t think any mother could. Ruby, I’m so sorry that happened to you.

Ruby:I’m sorry too. I lashed out in anger, and shut people out. My eyes clouded and I dove into my work for a little over a year doing nothing but searching aimlessly as I took and every job back to back. The more time went by meant the more people eventually had to go back to their own, and it drove me up a wall inside. No one could reach me. I didn’t want anybody to. Not even Jaune. I....*teary eyed* I left him alone in house. There was no part of me that could even attempt to understand his pain because I was drowning in mine. I was told he tried his best to catch them at the hospital. I never hated him for not succeeding but I...he... I just, I can’t. I don’t know what I thought. All o knew was I didn’t even want him to touch me. How cruel is that? *hugging herself* I made him drown in despair in the same way I was. I wasn’t home so often that I never realized he eventually left it abandoned to live with dad. Yang and Blake I didn’t even show up to your wedding. Jaune did that much. Hell, Raven attended. Ruby Rose as a person didn’t exist any more. I was only a wandering huntress looking for answers or the challenge that might’ve ended me.

Blake:What changed?

Ruby:Oz, he did what nobody else dared to do. He fought me. I don’t think he thought twice about it. He was prepared to accept all the anger I kept inside until I eventually broke down into tears like I’m trying not to do right now. Thinking about that time is still, extremely difficult. Oz let me lament, encouraging me afterwards to finally except the fact Dustin was gone and that I needed to process it properly. First I went to you Yang, in order to have a my big sis to lean on. Can you guess how that went?

Yang:With me holding you tighter than I ever had before.

Ruby:*smiles gently* I don’t deserve you. You and Blake then came to patch with me where everyone else waited for me and helped me face Jaune. That may have been the hardest thing I’ve done. Grieving or not, the fact that I left him in such a state. I know what that does to people firsthand and yet I left. For the first time in over a year we embraced and finally grieved together. The next two years were spent trying to heal and cope. During my time away the world had fully acknowledged me. I even got a proper nickname, but it all felt hollow. Imagine that, achieving your dream but not caring? If that’s not salt in a wound then I don’t know what is.

Weiss:What’s your title?

Ruby:I am the person people want to see when evil comes to cut their story short. I am a symbol that their tale still has more to tell. Remnant has named me The Storyteller. Curtsey of Maria, who spread the name around. Healing was slow and most nights I felt a pain in my heart, but then everything changed. One moment made me dare to try again to open that shut door in my life. *looks at Yang* I held your son in my arms. Sweet little Kovu.

Blake:*smiles* Kovu? Now I wonder who named him?

Yang:*red* Huh...how about that? Hehehe, wish I could meet him. I know he isn’t technically mine but I can’t help but feel all warm now. Also I can’t believe I named him that!

Weiss:I can. Veronica’s middle name is Nala.

Yang:Okay, maybe not marrying Blake was a win? Clearly I can’t be trusted to not name my children after other cats.

Blake:The wrong kind of cat too. I’m a panther faunus, not a lion. Even if they’re blonde that’s still false advertising of what they are.

Ruby:Well Yang was the one giving birth so you lost a majority of the option to complain.

Blake:That is fair.

Weiss:You gave birth to Vee, so I think that solves who picked her first name.

Ruby rested her head in her propped up hands that rested on the table. She felt exhausted reliving that chapter of her life mentally. Still she managed to smile, then smile bigger. Her eyes unclouded and a warm feeling filling her again. What Ruby said earlier about what made her different may have reign true, but her friends could since that there was now more to it. Ruby had spiraled into an unimaginable tragedy, yet was able to bounce back thanks to loved ones. To smile as she does, it was truly a strong sight to see. Even if she wasn’t fully aware of that.

Ruby:Carmine Arc Rose, my second born and the first child to call me mommy. Followed many years later by itty bitty Garnet. He’s my little man, five years old while is big sis is seventeen now.

Yang:Damn! That’s a gap. Oh, also congratulations. Almost forgot that part. I’m glad you got to be the super awesome mom that-

Ruby:I am easily C-teir.

Yang:Oh come on! What!?

Ruby:Listen, I know I got on you all for calling yourselves bad parents, but I will hear no debate about me understand!? I flop a lot of times.

Weiss:That doesn’t make you a C-teir. That makes you a new mom, silly.

Ruby:*grumbling* I agree to disagree but thank you. It’s just a lot okay. Too much to dive into honestly.

Blake:Summarize. Give us an abbreviated version.

Ruby:Ummm so Carmine is real special kid. The absolute love I have for her is unbreakable but gods damnit if she isn’t the most... “me” I could be! In a way similar yet different from myself, Carmine has always had this sense of urgency in her and a love for the world around her. She recognizes that it’s a fragile piece we have and just how hard I’ve worked with everyone to make it. I could tell that from her when she was five. I’d sound crazy, but the fact she used her eyes at the age proves I’m not.

Yang:She has silver eyes!? Why didn’t you bring that up?

Ruby:I thought that was obvious. All of my kids were born with then. Unlike her baby brother though, Carmine was a weird little kid. She didn’t socialize well. Still doesn’t, she’s kinda comes off rude and cold because of her bluntness. She doesn’t really express all her feelings or understand others fully. One might call her a little cold but the passion she had to protect life itself is a testament to how much she cares. Carmine is also a genius fighter. To put in perspective, people use the same nickname for her that they used for Pyrrha.

WBY:Oh....

Ruby:Yeah! It’s not hyperbolic to say ever since Carmine is far beyond any skill I was at her age since she turned thirteen. You called me a monster earlier but no, I merely gave birth to a beast. I mean she could pass the huntsman exam at fifteen if I didn’t make her wait. I can’t call her arrogant, she talks with confidence because she has that right by all means. Still, besides her face, that’s where the similarities start separating; besides terrible grades in general stuff. We’ve never been in step completely. To put simply in her own words, “What I am is a hero, while she is a huntress.” That good will and mercy I try to give everyone isn’t how she rolls. It drives a real wedge that has resulted in us not going on missions together.

Blake:Is she...killing?

Ruby:She has before, and it had valid reasons entirely, but I also know for a fact she is more than capable of bringing down people without taking that step. Not all cases are that intense thank goodness. Her overall aggressiveness is the root of the problem. You don’t have to put you back into it when handling thugs. They aren’t Hazel.

Yang:Ooo okay, yeah I’m seeing what you mean now. It’s like that one comic you always read!

Ruby:Sigh...yeah she channels a bit of Batman energy and I need her to not do that all the time. I suppose being an honest soul isn’t particularly hereditary. It always feels like we aren’t enjoying each other’s company these days. I can’t blame her though. So....you know how all of you have had one serious problem that has both destabilized yourself as well as the kids and their relationship to you? *clouded eyes*

Weiss:Wait...you loosing a child wasn’t that?

Ruby:Oh it was. It just so happened that it never ended. It grew day by day. Night by night. Jaune and I were cautious with Carmine. Going as far to give her contacts and giving birth to her off the record and not at a hospital. Just in case Cinder came back. Well, Cinder and Neo came back, with my Dustin.

Nobody said anything. What do you even say to that!? All they did was let out a stifled breath and tried to gauge Ruby’s look of guilt.

Ruby:Yet again we had gotten too comfortable. It happened when Carmine was thirteen. I don’t think Garnet was even one yet. That’s when the cruelest realization hit me. My son had been alive and hearing about how his so called mother being a person who saves everyone, yet she never came for him. She had moved on, letting his eyes become clouded with such seething hate for the world she did save; the children she had after. It’s been four years since the day he attacked Carmine and helped grimm try to invade Vacou. To this day it’s been a life of staying on gaurd, searching for them as they popped up countless places to tear Remna- to tear me down and I can’t decide what part hurts the most. The amount of anger that prevents me from killing Cinder in a blink of an eye, or looking at my daughter who has told me herself that she is going to kill her older brother because I’m too weak to do so. That I’m in no way as good as the world believes me to be. *puts hood up* Like I said, C-teir mom, at best.

Blake:That’s- you can’t- there’s no way for you to reach him? Maybe if you-

Ruby:He looks at me the same way Neo and Cinder do, Blake. They raised him to hate me. Besides, he hurt Carmine. She’s just not gonna let that slide and frankly I shouldn’t either. Carmine acts tough and for the most part is, but gets terrified like everyone else. In many ways she’s still just a young girl that I wish had never chosen to become a huntress. If I had it my way she’d just be a normal girl with normal knees; but her mother’s weakness and inexperience wrapped her up in yet another war. It’s ironic. I barely remember mom and yet I ended up putting my family in very similar situation as if she lead instruction. Happy endings, I’m not sure if I get-

Yang:You’re better than mom....

Ruby:......

Yang:Yeah I said. Look I love Summer Rose but at the end of the day she wasn’t around, not that she didn’t want to be, but it’s the truth. Several years of pleasant childhood memories and a lifetime of grief is what she left me, and all you got were tales you should’ve experienced first hand. Ruby you have spent seventeen years loving your daughter unconditionally and being there for her no matter if it’s for better or worse. Yeah you might not being doing it perfectly and I have no idea how to even fathom your predicament, but at least you are there trying. Take it from me, that’s all a daughter ever wants from their mother. It’s also what makes a pretty kick ass dad. *smiles* Chin up, hero. Your story isn’t over yet after all.

Silence filled the air and Ruby’s throat ran dry. Ruby pulled out her scroll to go to her pictures and displayed one of her favorite photos for everyone to see. It was Carmine’s fifteenth birthday. Ruby didn’t lie about the resemblance. the girl had short blonde hair that stopped halfway down her neck in the back and was longer in the front, reaching shoulders. Like her mother, the tips of her hair transitioned to red. The beautiful young woman tried to her hide her smile but her gleeful silver eyes were practically twinkling with joy as Ruby hugged her tightly from behind and a tall, more solid version of Jaune was smushing one of Carmine’s cheeks with an overly dramatic kiss to it. A tiny child no older than three at most was in his big sister’s arms. Garnet had his mother’s hair and eyes but something about the chubby face definitely showed Jaune’s features. The child had red frosting on his face and was reaching eagerly for more cake somewhere out of frame.

Yang noticed the girl took page from her father and wore some regular cargo shorts, but clearly didn’t lack flair by wearing a red crop top that showed off a fresh tattoo of the Arc crest on her toroso. Knowing her sister, that tattoo was most likely practical. The family looked happy, proud; and the mother of it currently sat across the table crying with her head face down in her hands cwhile Weiss and Blake hugged her from each side. Roses may have thorns, anyone who knew roses knew a simple truth. They’re still fragile flowers.

Yang:(Carmine Arc Rose. For you and your mother’s sake, I hope things go well)

xxxx

Though Carmine seemed cold by nature, people were quick learn the opposite. The most recent learner of this was a scared little girl that held on for dear life. It was nighttime, nothing but the sound of pouring rain and the distant glow of red and the warmth of Carmine holding the girl against her body while she sprinted through a mud ridden forest. The little payed no attention to the pain in her side, but the glow of roses, eyes, and flames through her tear filled eyes.

Beowulves chased frantically but then severed immediately by something the girl couldn’t understand, but it looked like the person carrying her. The dead beasts brought no comfort. Not when more followed close behind.

Girl:I-I’m sc...scared!

Carmine:Don’t look at them sweetie, it’ll be fine. Just keep being a brave little girl.

Girl:M...Mommy was back there.

Carmine:.....I know, she’ll be just fine. Your village, there are plenty of people there that will be just fine! Huff..... You got a name?

Mary:Mary.....

Carmine:Oh that’s a beautiful name, Mary. You know I was almost a Mary? Yeah my grandma was a really amazing person and I almost got named something similar to her. Mary is a very strong name!

Mary:You’re a liar! I’m sad, not strong. I want my mommy! Everything his dark and hurts and I want her!

The girl began painfully crying as Carmine followed her trail of roses to avoid getting lost. Things were getting worse. The storm raged and she could feel this girl burning in her arms. Not to mention the unsettling warmth the mixed with the cold rain against her body and dripped to puddles below. Any grimm near by could only be dealt with by many copies of her nearby, but that would only go so far when fear was out full force. Carmine’s boots felt like cement, but she still ran.

Carmine:Mary, you know what do when I miss my mommy? I sing! Yeah, my mom sings the best lullabies that made me feel super strong when I was little! It’s a magic song that makes everyone strong. How about I sing it you and they can sing it your mommy later okay!? But you have to close your eyes to really focus on the words!

Mary:*sniffling* Okay....

Baby deathstalkers swarmed the path made ahead as small Nevermores dove at her. Out of options, Carmine broke from the path, trying to rely on memory to go towards the safe zone while also singing lyrics to her favorite song.

Dream of anything; I'll make it all come true.

Everything you need is all I'll have for you~

Carmine never wavered. No matter how badly her lungs her or nearly slipped, she kept singing all the way to her destination where several other clones were seen racing towards with more civilians to injured or young to go themselves. An orphanage where Nora and Ren stood outside rushing people in while Jaune was keeping the grimm at bay. The sight brought a little ease.

Don't worry, I've got you; nothing will ever harm you.

I'm close by, I'll stay here; through all things, I will be near~

Carmine finally reached Nora and passed off the girl who’s grip weakened overtime. A few lyrics in and Carmine knew she was singing mainly for herself.

Carmine:Get her medical attention! I’m gonna go and find more! There’s still-

Jaune:Wait, it’s too dangerous!

Carmine:I know! That’s why I have to go! That fire is spreading and there’s stragglers pinned down! Dad.....I’m pinned down!

Jaune tensed up and looked at Carmine. No scraps on her and her clothes only soiled by others. It didn’t take long to realize. The man resisted the urge to run out to the ruined town and stood firmly.

Jaune:Carmine...end it. We’ll worry about the consequences later.

Carmine:....Okay.

Across the woods amongst the flames the real Carmine stood bleeding and bruised in front of two Beringel that charged over the vanishing corpses of their fallen with more grimm, her sword stabbed into the ground supporting her weight. Behind all living people that remained finally managed to flee. All except for a woman trapped by house debris. The woman watched this young huntsman stand proudly again. She wasn’t sure what happened next. All she heard was one sentence.

“Close your eyes...” before everything went white. Next thing she knew, Carmine was lifting debris off her as rain and wind washed away any evidence. A relief she didn’t care about in the slightest. She neither had the strength, or the time too. Much like Carmine, who began to pant and teeter. It was clear to the woman that whatever just happened didn’t come without cost as she watched the girl fall to her knees. Though she tried moving, Carmine was spent.

Carmine:Don’t worry...we’re safe....let’s-

Woman:Go...

Carmine:Huh?

Woman:I...my legs. Everything...I can’t move. Just go. I d-don’t think I’d las-

Carmine:Don’t talk like that! The hard parts over! I can-

Woman:Barely walk. *smiles* It’s okay. I don’t blame you. You fought hard.

Carmine:.....I...I’m sorry. *teary eyed*

Woman:Say, I know that face anywhere. Your Lady Rose’s kid. Funny, I thought your eyes were red? My daughter, Mary, she loves your mother. Makes me kinda jealous hehe, but hey I love her too. *crying* Do you know if Mary made it? She was wearing-

Carmine:A black dress, pink ribbons in her hair...

Woman:Yes! Is she safe? I saw you- one of you carry her off.

Carmine:...She’s just fine.

Woman:Good. That’s all....that.....

The woman never finished her sentence. Carmine’s body fell limp on the ground, facing the rain. Even with the cold downpour she could feel the warmth of her own tears, containing her emotions best she could as she looked through her clones eyes to watch Nora take Mary away from the survivors and out of sight to not stir further panic.

Carmine wasn’t sure how long she layed there, but it was long enough for Jaune to find her. The man didn’t say a word. The town was in shambles. Grimm were still fading and his daughter looked tired, but not in serious condition. Unlike the those who didn’t make it. Jaune put Carmine in his arms, carrying her away to safety.

Carmine:......Does mom ever save them all?

Jaune:No, but that never stops her from trying; or mourning.

She clenched her father’s shirt and let herself be fragile, to be a Rose.

Carmine:Next time. Mom and I, we’ll both get it right next time. A happy ending for all!

Jaune:Yeah, I know you will. Together....

#rwby #rwby au #the void #jaune arc #ruby rose #weiss schnee #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #carmine arc rose #rwby rosebud #rwby lancaster

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mbti-notes · 3 years ago

Text

Anon wrote: INFP with social anxiety here. I have a therapist but we're focusing on some other issues right now. In the meantime, I was wondering if you had some advice for me. I know you're not a professional (you say that multiple times in your posts) and of course I'm not asking you for a fix for my social anxiety with this - I'm just asking your help to understand what part my cognition could be playing in all of this cause I'm really curious.

Basically, my problem is the time frame right BEFORE I meet someone and, sometimes, immediately after. I don't really have problems socializing in the "middle", if you get what I mean; I'm easily adaptable and once I'm relaxed, once I realize no one is there to attack me, my mind starts getting ideas and I kind of know what to say, even though I'm a bit out of practice and I still have problems convincing other people of my emotions (like, mirroring their emotions so that they know I agree with them and stuff like that; for some reason they never ---believe me when I say it with words).

When I make plans, anyway, and I still haven't met the person, I get this anxiety: like I would rather stay home than go there because it's going to be "boring" and I'm probably going to feel like an idiot or make some sort of social gaffe. I mean, I do kinda get bored after a while anyway, but I also know I tend to overestimate that level of "future boredom" to the point it hurts me to even think about showing up and forcing myself to think of stuff I can-- say.

I get anxious because I start thinking about the way people used to treat me in the past (I've always been the black sheep of my family and/or my social circles and I vividly remember some bad things they used to say to me) and I start worrying that, deep down, they still think of me like that and they're never going to forget that "preconception of my identity" and open their eyes to who I am now, or I guess to who I've always been.

I do realize it doesn't make much sense, this "who I ----really am" part - but I've always had the impression that I was a bit different than the "me" they percieved, maybe because after many, many years of being accused of "selfishness" and "inability to tune in with the emotional atmosphere" I learned that in order not to ruin the "social mood" I should've adapted myself to the group - but the problems is that I suppressed "myself" in the meantime (and with myself I mean, like, my real interests, the things I'd like to talk about for ages without-- having to be interrupted or looked down on because, quote unquote, "ok, cool, but we don't really care").

I understand now that if they don't give me hints of actually caring about the subject I should stop rambling like a fool, but this is making me feel like I have nothing "useful" to offer them and therefore bringing the anxiety I'm struggling with. It makes me scared that I'll never be able to be myself around them because of the "social rules" I want to respect to be accepted, & to make----it worse I'm out of practice like I said before and sometimes it just gets too awkward and I want to get out of there.

I bet I'm doing something wrong because friendships and relationships in general are not supposed to be "boring", am I right? And yet until I don't get distracted by the actual conversation, I feel like it's going to be really boring and uncomfortable and sometimes going through it is SO horrible... most of the time I end up making up some excuse to go home earlier and talk----my internet friends instead (thank God for the internet!!!!). Anyway, thank you if you'll answer! And have a good summer vacation c:

-----------------------

The first thing I notice is that your thought process bears a very striking resemblance to many INFJs who struggle with social anxiety due to poor Fe development (see past posts). As a general rule, if I have good reason to suspect that someone might be mistyped, I won't provide info about function development until they undergo a proper type assessment. Otherwise, they might adopt the wrong method of improvement.

You say you want to understand what part your cognition plays in the social anxiety you experience, so I will mention the aspects of your cognition that seem most significant:

1) No Chill: You overthink things to an extreme, to the point of self-sabotage, perhaps even creating a self-fulfilling prophecy (i.e. when expecting the negative actually makes the negative happen). Overthinking means that you're not confronting the real obstacle getting in the way of your socializing. You're constantly trying to envision, imagine, or predict what will happen in a social interaction? WHY? What's the point of that overthinking? It's how you avoid confronting your fear head on.

2) Insecure: Your "predictions" are too often faulty because of being tainted by your underlying insecurities. You're insecure about being attacked, being accused, being misjudged, doing something wrong, being deemed of no value or unworthy of care, not being accepted or acceptable, dying of awkwardness, feeling bored, feeling uncomfortable, and on and on. You've described your thought process in detail. But nowhere do I see you confronting your insecurities, digging deeper into them, in order to understand the root of them. Insecurities are a manifestation of fear.

3) Control: Irrational anxiety is oftentimes about trying to control things that you shouldn't be trying to control or cannot have any control over - it wastes mental energy and leads to futile behavior. As long as you're trying to control social situations and their outcome, you are either trying too hard to make reality match up with your expectations or you're fumbling whenever reality unfolds outside of your expectations - you become rigid and frail. You claim to be "adaptable" but everything you say after that only proves you don't know the meaning of the word. You can't handle unpredictability, hence, the attempt to be in control by trying to "predict" everything. Do your attempts to control actually work? Do they help or hinder you? If they mostly hinder you, then isn't it time to change your strategy? Anxious people often believe that having more knowledge or control is the answer to their fear. But, in your case, the huge cost of being controlling is being incompetent. What's worse, the fear is still right there running the show.

4) Unresolved Trauma: You attribute your troubles to your past. Fair enough. Growing up in a social environment that did not respect and appreciate you is painful, even extremely traumatic for certain personality types. It also makes people too hungry for validation. It's natural that you wouldn't want to feel the pain of it again. However, if that pain remains unexamined and unresolved, you will unconsciously keep seeking to resolve it, which means re-enacting the trauma over and over again throughout life. The proof? Every time you meet someone, your first stance is defensive, because the first thing that comes into your mind is that you don't want to be attacked or invalidated. That old pain is running the whole show because you are deeply afraid of experiencing it again, yet you don't realize that YOU are the one calling it back up and rehashing it. What are you doing to resolve the pain rather than indulge the fear?

5) Self-absorbed: Social anxiety makes people too absorbed in their own thoughts, feelings, hopes, and expectations. They are too preoccupied with what they want, what will happen, how they will be perceived, how they might make a mistake, how they might be attacked, etc. This means they're not truly present with people, so the relationship can't really go far. Driven by fear and insecurity, they are always behind a wall, too difficult to reach.

Even if you happen to meet the right people, do you make it easy for them to befriend you? It seems that you can't open up with ease, you can't go with the flow of the other person when they don't live up to your expectations, you can't keep your emotions in check and misjudge situations, you get bored when it's not about you, you run away instead of making things better. Looking at yourself objectively from the outside, would you want to be friends with someone like that?

If you want to have good friends, you first have to BE a good friend. You want care, love, and validation? We all do. The best way to receive it is to be the first to give it. By being more aware of other people's needs and doing more to show that you care about them, you put them in a better position to care about you and meet your needs in return. This is the difference between actively trying to "make" a friend vs passively wishing for a friend to drop into your lap.

Being a friend isn't about what "value" you have, as though you're some kind of object being appraised and sold. Being a good friend is quite a simple matter of putting out the energy to care and show that you care. When you meet someone who's moved by your care, they will care for you in return. When you meet someone who's unmoved by your care, figure out the real reason why, in order to determine whether you should keep trying or put your energy elsewhere.

You never really know who you'll hit it off with. One of my favorite experiences in life is making a friend in the unlikeliest of places. As an adult, meeting new people is a numbers game. All you can do is keep pushing yourself to meet new people. The more people you meet, the greater the odds of clicking with someone. If you're looking to meet like-minded people, go to places that are likely to have people who share your interests. If you don't hit it off with someone, simply move along. You don't have to be friends with everyone, do you?

Yet, you take every little social interaction so seriously that each step is like life or death - that's what makes socializing tiring, laborious, and unfun. Why not enter into every social interaction with an open mind and an open heart? Why not truly go with the flow, without having to undergo the repetitive ritual of predicting what will happen or fussing over what did happen?

6) Poor Emotional Intelligence: This point is the common thread that runs through the previous points, which is why I keep repeating the word "fear". You have extremely low tolerance for negative feelings and emotions, which means you really need to work on learning how to deal with your emotional life better. Any little sign that things won't turn out the way you want and you start to panic, overthink, blame, or flee. Why do you recoil from yourself and your own feelings and emotions? Why are you so easily shaken by boredom, awkwardness, invalidation, failing, other people's negativity, etc? Why do you react so badly to these things (when others just brush it off and keep going)?

7) Low Self-Awareness: It's not enough to just name the fear ("I'm afraid of____"). Does the label explain why you have this particular fear and not some other fear? It's not enough to blame the past ("It's because of ____"). Why did someone else with a similar past as yours not develop this fear? To get to the root of fear, you have to identify, in exact terms:

what aspect of you has to change to overcome the fear

what aspect of your identity has to "die" (i.e. be let go of) in order to evaporate the fear

Until you answer the fear properly, it won't go away.

#social anxiety #anxiety #fear #emotional intelligence #mental health #ask

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rejectofsociety · 3 years ago

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We’ll Get Old If We’re Lucky

Summary:

He reaches forward and holds her hand and she presses her lips into a thin smile. Then she sighs, wipes off the wound again, and reaches for the needle and thread.

“Now for the easy part,” she hums.

“Yeah, you’re a pro at this,” Peter agrees as he lets go of her hand.

“Mhm. Now, what did you realize earlier?” Michelle asks, knowing Peter prefers to have his mind busy while getting stitched up.

He thinks a moment about how to word his realization, then says slowly: “everyone’s afraid to die young… but no one wants to be old.”

•••

After Peter comes home with a bullet in his side, he and Michelle discuss growing old, and if they’ll be lucky enough to get there.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Cursing, Discussions of Death, a rant disguised as a fic

Read here on Ao3

༺✦✮✦༻

Peter stumbles home at around midnight, quickly being greet by his wife, then scolded by her for bleeding out on her carpet. Michelle then leads him to the bathroom were he collapses onto the tile, rips off his mask, and vomits all over the floor. With a sigh, she cleans him up, cleans up the vomit, kisses the side of his neck, then leans him against the bathtub. He apologizes a few times and she waves him off, then grabs the first aid kit and asks:

“Where should I start?”

“Ummm…” Peter hesitates, “probably here—“ he points to his side which is steadily oozing blood “—I uh… mighta got shot.”

Michelle heaves a sigh and grabs a rag, “I should really just take you to the hospital.”

“No, no, no, no,” Peter says quickly, then winces as a pain shoots up his side, “no, Em. Just… just pull the bullet out, stitch it up— my self-healing factor can do the rest.”

She chews her lip for a moment then nods, “okay, fine. Lay down.”

“Thank you,” Peter replies gratefully then plants a light kiss on her cheek.

She presses the spider symbol on his suit and delicately helps him slide his arms out of the sleeves, then lets the suit fall to his waist. Then, Peter gingerly lays on his back with some assistance from Michelle. She presses a rag to the wound and leans her weight on it, quickly feeling his warm and sticky blood seeping through. Peter props himself up with an elbow to watch her.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Peter guiltily mumbles, seeing her grimace.

“It’s fine,” she grunts.

He shifts his weight, frowning slightly at her stiff reply. She doesn’t notice.

After a few minutes of silence, with the only sound being Peter’s occasional grunt or whimper of pain, the bleeding finally slows to a stop. Michelle stands up and washes her hands thoroughly, her sleeves now rolled up past her elbows. Then, she cleans Peter’s wound with hot water and a bit of soap and places a pair of tweezers in boiling water. The entire time her breathing is shuddering and uneven, and her hands shake anxiously.

Of course Peter notices, and while they wait for the tweezers to cool off, he wraps one arm around her and holds her close. She lays her head on his chest and mutters to him:

“I just want you to be okay. I don’t want you to hurt.”

To which he whispers back: “it’s okay, Em. I’m okay.”

Even with the tweezers ready, he holds her a while longer to ease her nerves. She calms slowly, eventually pulling herself together for Peter’s sake. Michelle ties back her hair into a sloppy ponytail to keep it out of her face then grabs the tweezers and sits on her knees at Peter’s side, hunched over the gunshot wound.

“MJ, I just realized something,” he says, before Michelle can even locate the bullet.

“Let me pull this thing out of you, then you can tell me,” she suggests, “I need to focus.”

“That’s fair,” he hums, “don’t mess up.”

“Babe, please.”

“Sorry.”

She smiles lopsidedly, still not taking her eyes off the wound. Peter let out a small sigh, admiring her sharp focus and attentive expression.

“I can see the bullet, it’s not deep,” Michelle observes after a minute.

“Okay,” he speaks calmly, “then you’re going to-“

He cuts himself off as she visibly shudders. Peter frowns then realizes that the reality of pulling a bloody bullet out of her husband has just sunk in.

“It’s okay,” he assures, “you’ll be alright.”

“How do you know that?” She hisses disbelievingly.

“I’ve done it two or three times,” he shrugs, “and if I can do it-“

“Who’ve you pulled a bullet out of?”

“Cindy once and myself two times— yeah, so three times.”

Michelle sits back on her heels and rubs her face with a heavy sigh. She pinches the bridge of her nose and squeezes her eyes shut.

“Are you about to sneeze?” Peter asks.

“No, dumbass,” she snaps, “I’m stressed out and trying to stop my brain from falling out of my face.”

“Oh,” he swallows thickly, tasting blood and vomit, “I’m sorry, the blood loss is getting to me.”

Michelle brushes a few loose strands of hair out of her face and huffs, “alright, we’re going to the hospital.”

“No!” Peter cries frantically as he lunges forward and grabs her hand.

Pain ignites his entire body and he freezes, eyes squeezed shut and expression twisted in agony. He squeezes her hand tightly and it’s almost painful, but she doesn’t pull away. She watches him with wide, worried eyes as she gently strokes the back of his hand, as if she can single-handedly ease away the pain.

“No hospitals,” Peter finally croaks out, his voice weak, “please.”

Michelle heaves a sigh and hesitantly nods, “okay… fine. No hospitals.”

He suspires in relief and brings her hand to his lips, kissing it lightly, “thank you, baby.”

She pauses, looking down at the bullet wound then asks: “now, tell me what to do.”

He smiles at her then begins relaying one step after another to her, being as detailed as he can and answering the few questions that she has. She works cautiously and gingerly, pausing when he hisses in pain and waiting for his permission to continue.

When Michelle finally does extract the bullet, coated in crimson and glimmering in the bright bathroom lights, she forces herself not to gag and drops it onto the bloody rag she used to clean Peter’s wound.

“Great job, baby,” Peter praises with a wobbly smile, “told you you’d be alright.”

“I’m never doing that again,” Michelle shudders, “next time we call Cindy or Gwen or anyone.”

He reaches forward and holds her hand and she presses her lips into a thin smile. Then she sighs, wipes off the wound again, and reaches for the needle and thread.

“Now for the easy part,” she hums.

“Yeah, you’re a pro at this,” Peter agrees as he lets go of her hand.

“Mhm. Now, what did you realize earlier?” Michelle asks, knowing Peter prefers to have his mind busy while getting stitched up.

He thinks a moment about how to word his realization, then says slowly: “everyone’s afraid to die young… but no one wants to be old.”

Michelle briefly glances up at him, “yeah, you’re absolutely right.”

“Like, if you die young it’s like… ‘oh they had so much life left in them’ and when you’re old, now you’re— not my words— ugly and helplessly whatever. And no one wants to be that, y’know?” He rambled, “and then there’s the other stuff that comes with being old, like potential illness, aches and pains— all that. But then if you die young, it’s- like- extra devastating or something because it’s normally really unexpected and sometimes— not always, but sometimes— you’re still in really good health and… and I don’t know.”

“There’s no balance,” Michelle finishes for him, “it’s never a good time to die. But if you live quote unquote ‘too long,’ then it’s not a good time to be alive.”

“Exactly. Or at least, that’s how it’s portrayed,” he flinches as the needle jabs him a little too harshly.

“Sorry,” Michelle mumbles.

“It’s okay,” he sighs. Then he goes quiet for a few moments, and when he does talk again, his voice is soft: “I… MJ, I don’t expect myself to live very long.”

He doesn’t say it sadly. It’s matter-of-fact, like a statement that he’s all too sure of. But even if his tone is calm, his words hit Michelle in the chest like a knife and she instantly finds herself swallowing back tears.

“Peter, don’t say that,” she urges.

“I’m sorry, but it’s true,” he says unapologetically, “I mean… it’s not like I want to die young I just feel like I will. And maybe that’s part of the reason why I don’t understand this- this stigma around getting really fucking old. Like, I hope I get so old I can barely walk.”

Michelle hesitates, “… I hope you do too. I just… I really wanna get old with you.”

He nods, “I do, too.”

“Also, I feel like when you get old, there’s less pressure to look good, y’know?” Michelle begins to think, “like, once you reach a certain point, people kinda except that you’re never gonna look as good as you did when you were twenty or whatever. No one really cares to— or wants to— try getting you to dress in something super flattering or skimpy or pressure you into wearing a lot of make up. You can just wear weird grandma clothes and never touch mascara again if you don’t want to. Y’know?”

“To an extent,” Peter replies, “but I am— obviously— male, and the same standards don’t apply to me.”

She chuckles, “that’s my husband.”

“Yes I am,” he grins, “but I kinda get what you’re saying. I mean, the more physically fit a man is, the more and ‘masculine’ they are, the more acceptable they are by society’s standards. Being old, no one cares and you can just be all shriveled up and… floppy.”

Michelle stops what she’s doing to laugh and Peter lets out a short laugh, before gasping at the pain. Michelle pauses and looks at him with wide, worried eyes.

“Are you okay?” She asks.

He chews on his cheek and nods slightly, “yep. I’m great.”

She sighs and continues, “similar thing goes for women. When you’re really old it doesn’t matter if you have a nice ass or boobs or whatever. Everything can just sag.”

He smiles, “being old sounds fucking awesome. Fuck society, honest. We’ll be lucky to get gross and old.”

She beams at him then leans forward and kisses his forehead, “yes, we will.”

Then, she ties off the stitches and cuts the thread and wraps a bandage around his torso. He thanks her then kisses her sweetly and thanks her again. She helps him stand up and lets his spider suit fall to the ground, then she tosses it in the bathtub— she’ll clean it later. Then she helps him limp to bed where he gingerly dresses himself in a pair of sweatpants with his wife’s assistance then finds himself in too much pain to try putting a shirt on.

They lay together that night, Michelle reading a book— Chaos Walking Book Three: Monsters of Men— trying to keep her mind away from the place it’s tempted to travel: Peter’s inevitable death. Although, a book about war and death isn’t exactly helpful. Especially not as she reads the sorrows of a “Spackle.”

“I should not be alone…. My one in particular should be here with me…. But my one in particular is not here. Because my one in particular was killed…. brought down by a heavy blade. I way dragged away…. Hated them for not letting me die there and then, when my grief was not quite enough to kill me on its own…”

“Peter, what happens if you die young?” Michelle asks suddenly, snapping the book shut.

Peter looks up from his own book and looks at the one in her hands, “you just lost your page,” he says.

“Please answer the question,” she begs, her voice now wavering.

Peter draws in a deep breath, his gaze trailing away from her as he speaks slowly, “I guess… I guess I’ll be grateful for the years I did have.”

“I mean what happens to me?” She almost demands it, but the distress in her voice is clear and forces Peter to meet her gaze again.

He’s quiet for a few beats, listening to the anxious rhythm of Michelle’s heart and her uneven, nervous breaths. Michelle watches him, hiding her impatience as she’s eager for a response.

“I think…” he finally says, “I think that we shouldn’t think about that. Maybe just… focus on the present and take things one step at a time.”

Michelle chokes back a sob and snaps, “but what am I going to do?”

“I don’t know!” Peter cries exasperatedly, “I know that’s not the answer you want, but I have no fucking idea, and y’know what? That scares me, ‘cause I hate the idea of you being alone!” He pauses and heaves a sigh and sinks into his pillows, “I’m sorry, Em,” his voice is softer now, “I really don’t know…. And I really don’t want to think about it.”

Michelle chews on the inside of her cheek silently, wiping away a tear before it can fall. Peter lets out a shaky breath and looks away, unable to meet her broken gaze.

Michelle isn’t sure how long they’re quiet for, but she slowly feels the knots in her stomach unwind and her clenched heart begins to relax as she gazes at her husband. Her shoulders go from tense to slouched as she takes in his big brown eyes and the freckles that litter his cheeks and his chestnut curls that fall over his forehead.

He’s here, she thinks, he’s here now, let’s just focus on that.

She leans forward and kisses his cheek lightly, “we’ll get old if we’re lucky,” she says simply, “for now, we can do what you said: take things one step at a time.”

Peter looks at her and smiles warmly, “I like that plan.”

He holds the back of her neck in the palm of his hand and draws her into a deep, loving kiss. She sinks into his touch, cupping his face with her hand and gently stroking his cheek with her thumb.

“I love you, Em,” Peter mutters to her as he ousts himself from the kiss.

“I know,” she replies, curling up against his side and resting her head on his chest, “I love you too.”

#peter parker #spiderman #michelle jones #mj #spideychelle #petermj #marvel #mcu #avengers #whump #fluff #angst #Fanfic #fanfiction #ao3

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stxphxn-strange · 4 years ago

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(no) rest for the innocent

summary: Tony wasn’t even on trial, but the jury found him guilty and he couldn’t disagree.

a/n: idk last night i was thinking about tony dealing w survivor’s guilt after endgame (and IW) so i threw this together, tw for mention of death and implied thoughts of suicide

“Good evening, Doctor.” FRIDAY’s warm, pleasant voice always reminded Stephen of home and cinnamon scented candles. “How was your trip?”

“Too long for a meeting that could’ve been handled over email. Or through carrier pigeon, as Tony would say,” Stephen replied as his cloak sailed off down the hall.

He washed his hands carefully, drying them on an Iron Man dish towel that Peter had given them as a joke wedding gift before putting the kettle on.

As the water was boiling, he noticed a covered plate on the kitchen counter. There was an obnoxiously orange piece of paper in front of it, which made Stephen smile. Tony always left him little notes on purposefully electrifying paper, that way they were easy to find.

The sorcerer’s smile only widened as he read the note.

Steph—

I wasn’t sure when you’d be back, but I decided to make you dinner anyway. But not because I’m missing you and wanted to surprise you, I just accidentally cooked too much. You know how that happens sometimes and you just end up with an ungodly amount of chicken parm? Life’s funny like that.

Anyway, I’m in the lab. I had some good ideas earlier and I wanted to start them while I still felt productive. Welcome home sweetheart, and if you go to bed before I do (because you probably will, you responsible asshole you), sweet dreams and goodnight.

Love, Tones

PS— Orange you glad you met me? … don’t answer that, I just couldn’t help it and had to write that down.

Stephen rolled his eyes fondly. “Fri, will you tell Tony that even though he’s not funny, I’m very glad I met him?”

FRIDAY was quiet for a few moments before responding. “Boss says, quote, ‘fuck you Gandalf, I’m hilarious,’ unquote.”

Stephen smiled, heating up his meal before sitting down to eat. He flipped through a magazine while he ate, FRIDAY turning on some soft jazz music as background noise until Stephen cleaned up and left the kitchen. After a refreshing shower, the sorcerer found himself in his most comfortable pjs and slippers as he walked through the house. Stephen wasn’t sure if he was going to bed yet, but he wanted to see Tony (and maybe he wanted a kiss or two or even three).

The music in the lab automatically lowered when Stephen shut the door behind him, and Tony looked up with an expression that could only be described as tired.

Actually, he looked exhausted. Weary. Barely holding himself together. Stephen wasn’t a thesaurus, but very concerned about his husband.

Tony was trying to smile, but he seemed too exhausted to do that and just gave up, not saying anything as Stephen sat beside him.

“Hi.” Stephen leaned over and softly kissed his husband’s temple. “Thanks for cooking for me, you didn’t have to.”

Tony shrugged. “I had a lot of energy earlier, and I accidentally cooked way too much. Maybe it was intentional, you know I’d take any excuse to go out of my way for you.”

His words said one thing, but his tone betrayed him. His voice was brittle, hard, and almost staticky. Stephen thought he sounded like a rusted hinge that was trying not to cry out for repairs… or maybe that analogy only made sense given where they were.

Stephen kissed him again as Tony sat back at his desk, closing his well-used sketchbook. “You alright?”

“Yeah. Tired I guess.” Tony sounded as unconvinced as Stephen felt.

“Come to bed with me,” Stephen offered. “I’ll bore you to sleep by telling you about the meeting.”

Tony laughed hollowly. “That bad?”

“I don’t know how to describe it, but it was a waste of time. Even Wong was bored, and he watches the Antiques Roadshow remake for fun,” Stephen replied. He yawned and leaned against Tony’s side.

“I see what you’re doing,” Tony murmured, trying to be lighthearted. He was just feeling some kind of way right now, he felt serious and was so endeared by his husband that it hurt.

“What am I doing?” Stephen asked, resting his head on Tony’s shoulder.

“Being cute and sweet so I’ll go to bed and let you be the big spoon,” Tony accused. “And maybe I just really fucking need a hug, but… it’s working.”

Stephen shifted and pulled Tony into his arms, holding the mechanic close as he went lax.

“My Boss Is Singing Closing Time Protocol please, Fri,” Tony mumbled.

“Goodnight Boss, goodnight Doctor,” the AI replied, beginning to run the lab’s standard closing protocol.

“Portal?” Stephen asked. Tony was getting better with going through portals, but some days were harder than others. Stephen didn’t know what tonight would be like and opted to ask, selfishly wanting to make sure Tony got some rest as soon as possible.

He was so out of it by that point that Stephen wasn’t sure if Tony registered the question, but he nodded slowly and trusted Stephen to lead him through it and into their bed.

Despite “resembling a sloth clinging to a tree bough,” (Tony’s words) Stephen was intuitive and knew when not to hug Tony. Even when he was asleep, if Tony woke up thrashing or fighting against something in a dream, Stephen let him go.

Tonight was a bit different. Stephen wasn’t brought to the edge of reality by Tony thrashing in their bed or accidentally tangling himself in their sheets, so he assumed everything was fine. That was until the sorcerer hugged his husband closer, still mostly asleep and just following his instinct, and Tony outright begged Stephen to let go of him. He wasn’t quite awake, but Stephen backed off immediately and heard Tony trip over his own feet as he left the room. The sorcerer fell asleep again after that, trying to stop the sound of Tony’s broken plea from cementing itself in his memory. When Tony climbed back into bed some time later, Stephen was stirring a little bit more. Tony hid his face in Stephen’s collarbone and said nothing, his breathing still slightly erratic.

“Sorry if I woke you up,” he mumbled.

“Don’ be,” Stephen replied, his voice unsure whether or not to wake up.

“Will you hold me again?” Tony asked pleadingly, his voice almost imperceptible.

Stephen wordlessly obliged, kissing the top of his head. “Whatever’s bothering you… you can talk to me about it. When you’re ready. And you don’t have to, but I’m here for you.”

Tony nodded. “It feels like too much right now. What I’m thinking about, I mean. I need time to process, I guess.”

“Okay,” Stephen said simply. “But I’m here for you whenever.”

“I know. I love you,” Tony replied.

Stephen began to trace soothing patterns on Tony’s back. “Love you Tones.”

++++

Tony didn’t seem any more rested the next day, but his confident Tony Stark™ pose seemed natural. He’d easily be able to fool people who didn’t know him as well as his family did. So it was a “fake it until you make it” kind of day, and Tony’s energy was on a strict schedule. There was only so much he could take today, and if his teammates wanted to call him selfish then that was their choice.

It would just go in one ear and out the other, especially this late in the day and after brutal team training. Tony was close to skipping the meeting, but a cutting remark in the hallway made him change his mind. Why did they always act like it was breaking news when Tony needed to step back from something anyway? He was just as human as anyone else, and the world was happy to throw responsibilities on his unenhanced, steady shoulders just because he was a natural caretaker.

The arguments about Tony’s quiet, withdrawn demeanor started two minutes into the meeting. Stephen was ready to defend his husband as soon as they got to the conference room, Tony collapsing into a chair and leaning his head against the cool metal of the table.

He didn’t want to talk today, and Stephen didn’t want him to.

“It’s not nap time, Stark.” There was a small hint of fondness in Natasha’s cold, clipped voice.

Tony was already regretting his decision to show up, wishing he hadn’t told Stephen again and again that he was fine. He wasn’t, and they both knew it. Everyone knew it, but Tony knew better than to advocate for himself in front of his… colleagues.

“I don’t even remember what we’re meeting about,” Tony muttered, looking up enough to address whoever was talking to him.

Rhodey took a seat beside Tony, encouragingly patting his back. “You good?”

“I’m fine, Honeybear,” Tony replied. He was sitting between his two favorite people, and that helped him feel a little more grounded. “I just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

Someone scoffed. “I don’t think anyone’s slept right in months. And don’t say you haven’t slept in years, Stark. We don’t need a story about how everything you’ve ever done has led to years of sleepless nights. We know already. Put it in a book or something and make the team more money so I can have better arrows.”

Stephen was two seconds away from dropping the archer into the Dark Dimension, or flipping a table. He wasn’t sure how to handle the man yet, still taken aback by the rudeness and stupidity of his comment. “Barton, what the fuck—”

“Steph, don’t bother with him,” Tony said. He stood up, forcing his tiredness into a corner and giving his coworkers a confident glare. “Pardon me for giving it my all and being a bit tired as a result. Now I’m going to get an ice pack for my shoulder and maybe a cup of coffee. Does anyone want anything?”

“I’ll take a—”

“Get it yourself, you know where the kitchen is.”

For dramatic effect (and moral support), the cloak landed on Tony’s shoulders and billowed out as he left the room. He returned with the aforementioned ice and coffee, and a mug of tea for Stephen.

“You didn’t have to do that sweetheart, but thank you,” Stephen said appreciatively.

“That’s why I wanted to,” Tony replied. He relaxed a little into his chair, starting to believe he could get through the meeting.

Then, like clockwork, Clint opened his mouth to complain.

“Why did you bring him tea and nothing for the rest of us?” He whined.

“Doesn’t Tony do enough for you?” Stephen asked, innocently taking a sip of his tea. It was his afternoon green tea, made exactly the way he liked it.

Tony was always so sweet and attentive with his loved ones, it warmed Stephen’s heart. The sorcerer stifled a laugh as Rhodey poured half of Tony’s coffee into his own empty mug.

“Thank you,” the colonel said impishly. “Consider the roommate tax paid for this month.”

Tony tried to smile at the old inside joke, but Stephen noticed that it fell flat.

“Are we done with the interruptions? We need to talk about what’s out there. We don’t know if Thanos is the exception or the rule, and—”

Tony stopped listening. Clint’s snootiness was doing his head in, but the idea of another threat, another thing, another colossus he’d have to conquer and survive if his luck had anything to say about it… that was the breaking point.

Tony didn’t have a good relationship with luck. He didn’t really believe in it, but apparently it believed in him. Because Tony was lucky. It was true that he was lucky in meeting his husband, his friends, and his family, but this was a different kind of luck. Tony was intelligent and skilled, shrewd and savvy, and there was virtually nothing he couldn’t do or solve, except for one thing.

He was constantly lucky, constantly cheating death.

And he didn’t realize that he was hyperventilating, didn’t recall dropping his head into his hands. He didn’t recall that he’d just walked out in the middle of the meeting after a minute, didn’t realize that he was home when he opened his eyes.

Tony was home, in his spot on the couch in Stephen’s library. Stephen was sitting beside him, quietly watching a documentary or something like that. Tony was laying down, his head in Stephen’s lap with the cloak draped over him like a blanket. The crimson fabric continued to cling to him as he sat up, further proving Tony’s point that Levi liked him best, but he wasn’t in the mood to banter now. He just appreciated the support and the warmth of his sorcerer and their shared, sentient blanket.

With some hesitancy, Tony leaned over and rested his head on Stephen’s shoulder. They locked eyes for a minute, Tony’s gaze deliriously bright and vacant.

Stephen didn’t know what to say or do to make the man trembling in his arms feel better, but started by hugging him closer and softly stroking up and down his spine.

“I’m sorry,” Tony whispered, lowering his head and hiding against Stephen’s chest.

“No apologies,” Stephen reminded him. “I don’t want or need them, and you don’t have to explain yourself.”

“I have to give a good reason,” Tony said, his voice beginning to shake. “Everything I do needs a reason.”

“Why? Says who?” Stephen asked. He was more thinking aloud, half expecting Tony to leave the question unanswered.

For a while, he did. He just sat, furiously trying to blink back tears and gather his thoughts as Stephen held him protectively.

“Sometimes I think about… things,” Tony began vaguely. “And people. And places. I guess I just like nouns.”

At this point, he didn’t even know if he was trying to deflect or just tell a joke, but his attempt at humor fell flat. He tried to force a laugh, but halfway through it turned into a painful sob. He cried harder with each breath, ignoring the ache in his chest. Tony barely listened when Stephen encouraged him to breathe, but eventually he gave into his exhaustion and listened to his lungs.

His stupid lungs, which apparently were just as stubborn as his brain.

“I can’t keep doing this,” Tony whispered. “I shouldn’t have survived Afghanistan, New York, Sokovia, Siberia, or Titan. I can’t keep cheating death, Stephen. I don’t want to. I don’t want to be lucky and survive when the damage I’ve caused, the damage I claim full responsibility for, has taken so many lives. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt or killed for me.”

Stephen pressed a soft kiss to his hair, feeling Tony’s guit and fatigue as if it was his own.

“I don’t want to do this,” Tony repeated. “I’m probably just spiraling or being needlessly selfish, but I… I don’t know.”

“You’re taking on too much responsibility where you don’t need to,” Stephen said. “I know that’s easy for me to just say from the outside, but you aren’t the only Avenger. It’s about time the team, if you can even call them that, takes accountability for their actions and stops bulldozing you with their problems. You aren’t selfish, Tones. You’re tired and overworked, and you deserve a break. You deserve to breathe, to just exist without feeling like you have to look over your shoulder or justify your every step.”

“I don’t think I know how to even do that anymore,” Tony replied. “And I don’t deserve it.”

“You do,” Stephen argued. “And rest assured I’ll keep telling you that. And I’ll keep telling you how much I love you, because I really do.”

Tony smiled sadly, trying to press himself closer to Stephen if that was even possible. “I love you too.”

He was starting to settle down, soothed by a flurry of soft kisses in his hair and the gentle brushes up and down his spine, when FRIDAY quietly spoke up. She almost sounded remorseful.

“Mister Parker is requesting one or both of you in the lab, whenever it’s convenient,” she began. “And he’s asked me to assure you that it’s nothing major.”

Tony sighed, sitting up again. “I’ll investigate.”

Stephen shook his head. “No, let me. I’ll tell Peter that you’re resting, and he’ll understand.”

“I don’t want him to think I don’t care,” Tony whispered.

“He would never think that. You know how he gets about making sure you take care of yourself, and Peter knows with certainty that you care about him. Our son is much more mature than the Avengers,” Stephen replied.

“I still feel bad,” Tony said.

“I know. I can promise him Thai food if that’ll make you feel better?” Stephen suggested, half jokingly.

“It actually would,” Tony admitted. “FRIDAY, will you schedule a Thai food delivery for 6:30pm please?”

“Scheduled,” she replied simpy. She still sounded apologetic for disturbing them right as Tony was falling asleep, but maybe Stephen imagined that.

The sorcerer stood up gracefully, covering Tony with another blanket as the cloak wrapped a bit tighter around him. “Look after yourself and relax, or get some sleep. No one’s expecting anything from you right now Tones, alright? I love you.”

Tony nodded, a little smile on his face as Stephen kissed him again. “Love you.”

He really wanted to sleep. He actually put effort into falling asleep, which was something he never thought he’d do, and of course sleep didn’t come easily. Sleep never came easily, but the memories did. It was all too easy for Tony to get caught in a thought stream, whether he was planning a surprise, inventing, or remembering unpleasantries. Today he was overwhelmed by guilt, readily convincing himself that he was a selfish failure like Howard Stark and his teammates liked to say. It was too easy to get lost in their ire and wanting to please everyone, and Tony had given up so much of his agency just to try and make other people happy.

It was exhausting, and he didn’t even feel like he’d succeeded at that.

The mechanic started tearing up again as he continued to think in a circular pattern, faintly aware of the Cloak trying to comfort him. It was a sweet, welcome gesture, and Tony let it happen and let himself cry. He was still laying there in tears when Stephen came back in half an hour later.

“Pete says he hopes you feel better,” Stephen said, returning to his spot and pulling Tony close. “And I told him to just go ahead and eat whenever he’s hungry, or when the food gets here.”

Tony just nodded, feeling relieved and supported in Stephen’s arms again. He nodded again, as if trying to shake the unending self-deprecating thoughts from his head, before saying anything. “Sounds good.”

tags: @salty-ironstrange-shipper @stark-strange-love2 @chocopiggy @katninjagirl97 @kitkatfat15 @taruyison @funkylittlebidiot

#tony stark #stephen strange #ironstrange #not endgame compliant #non infinity war compliant #peter parker #ironstrange and spiderson #not avengers friendly lowkey #not clint barton friendly #james rhodey rhodes #tw mention of character death #tw death mention #tw sui mention

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twisted-imagines · 4 years ago

Note

Hello! I know someone has done a similar request to this on another blog but I was curious on your interpretation: how do you think the Leech brothers and Azul would react to having a crush or a SO that REALLY likes seafood, maybe even a particular fondness to eel or octopus dishes? (My personal favorite is squid n salmon 🐙🐟) Feel free to do whatever format you think would work best for this request!

I personally don't eat seafood much so it may be inaccurate, but I had fun with this one~ Scenario part is about eating their animal counterpart🤭 My attempt at comedy. Why did it turn to horror with Floyd though?

Maybe someday I will stop to just randomly go MIA. Maybe.

Octavinelle and a s/o who loves seafood

Jade Leech 🐬

"I promised you the sight, here it is, [Y/n]."

You pant heavily, supporting yourself with hands on your knees, for a minute all you can think about is calming down your breath, but a burning pain in your throat severely hinders your attempts to. Somehow a guy who was born in the sea and never left it before a few years ago can climb higher and faster than you, and you've lived your whole life with your legs. You feel like your skull is squeezing down on you, putting an immense pressure on your brain.

"My my, someone really needs to exercise more. How about joining the Mountain Appreciation Club, [Y/n]? We could do mountaineering more often and build up your stamina?"

You are about to tell him that he'd better kill you now than make you suffer another climb, but once you lift up your head up words die in your throat. Jade sure kept his promise, the sight before you is majestic.

He told you there is a lake somewhere behind that hill and that flora and fauna there is diverse and rich, but what he didn't mention is just how beautiful it is. Untouched, lush greenery, flowers of all colors of rainbow scattered across all the glade that sway to the wind, strive to reach the sun. The horizon is just a straight green line, with mighty trees towering over a pristine blue lake in the middle of this small haven. You can't look at the water for too long, bright sun rays it reflects blind you immediately.

You notice that your head no longer hurts and you can freely breathe in the fresh air, clear of foul smells that people bring when they flock together. But here it's just you, Jade and wild inhabitants of this sanctuary.

"It's beautiful."

"I expected you to enjoy this place. I'm glad my prediction was right. Feel free to explore it, I've made sure that there're no creatures that might hurt you. Before the sun starts to set, enjoy yourself."

You leave your gear and backpack behind and stride forward, having half a mind to take off your shoes and feel for yourself spangled with dew, glistening under the sun bright green grass. You briefly turn to Jade who is still standing behind, seemingly not turned his gaze away from you. He sends a small smile your ways and nods his head encouragingly as if knowing what thought visited your head. You are positive you've never felt so close to nature and to Jade too.

You can't possibly notice, you're already way ahead, touching the water with your leg, retreating when you realize it's too cold for you, keep trying anyway, but the smile does not leave Jade's lips, it grows wider the more he observes you. He can't tell you yet, but the feelings he harbors for you make his heart sing, they are not like anything he's felt before. Oh, how he wishes he could go out with you like this, spend time together without any care in the world, see you smile and look only at him. But things like confessions and relationships need careful planning, he can't possibly let himself be sloppy when it comes to you. Jade is patient, he can wait until that time comes.

"[Y/n], there are lots of different plants and fungi, unique to this area. I go search for them, can I leave setting a camp to you?"

"No problem, go do what you need to do, Mushroom Boy.”

He can't even be mad at you, what a lucky human.

When a noise of someone's footsteps adds to the singing of birds, with cicadas whining and creaking of a bonfire near you mixed in, you know that's it's your companion who's finally returned. Although you stay focused on your task, heat from the fire makes it tempting to turn away,but you just raise your voice to greet him.

"Took you long enough, Jade! I've had time to set camp and to fish! Look, I caught all of these myself!"

Jade approaches you from behind, ready to apologize for his absence, but before he can the sight in his peripheral vision takes away his speech. The fish you have caught and skewered to put above the fire is certainly not what he expected to see. Not what he has ever wanted to see you do.

"[Y/n], I humbly request you to put this poor thing aside or go eat it somewhere a few meters away from me or I might not forgive you for slaying technically one of my kind."

You force yourself to stay in place before you can possibly turn and face himself. You're not ready to look death in the eyes. And the day was just starting to look great, how miserable.

• If his brother at least has a bigger pet peeve than cooked eels, Jade hates seeing eels being prepared as food the most. Like always, you can't tell from looking at his face, but he's furious on the inside. He can't police what you eat and it's not like few humans consume eels. Still, he doesn't want his s/o eating his animal equivalent, even though it can't possibly have the same self-awareness or intelligence that he possesses as a merman. If you insist and don't try to at least hide it from him, expect some petty Jade in the days following. You don't want to comply and listen to his wishes? Then neither does he, he will find a way to annoy you while staying as classy as ever.

• But when it does not concern eels or their distant relatives Jade is all about you exploring sea cuisine, he himself will never miss a chance to partake in some seafood as well. He smirks when he learns that you also share a common love for octopuses. You understand, right? Not only they are tasty-looking while alive, but cooked and seasoned they're just the best. Cue a distressed Azul hiding from both of you in his VIP room.

• When Monstro Lounge was still new Azul really needed someone both skilled and trusted on the kitchen, Jade became both. He will gladly cook something for you and his cooking is amazing. His dishes and how they taste is everything you've ever wanted from your dinner. Can he also cook for you in the morning and in the evening? Jade says that he should have a very important reason to stay with you for the whole day and to live with you... If your fixation with seafood, sea creatures, and the way he prepares them makes you think about becoming more serious about your relationships, particularly starting them or bringing them to a new stage if you two are not quite there yet, Jade won't mind. He always reminds you he's there for you whenever you may need him.

• If Monstro Lounge menu is to undergo a change you're one of the first to taste any new seasonal dish, made by either of brothers, however, Jade usually prefers to take care of you himself, no matter if you're at the cafe as his friend, quote-unquote crush, of just as a customer. If he has to appeal to your taste buds first for you to consider him a suitable mate Jade will try his best for sure.

Floyd Leech🦈

"Thank you, Rook, I really appreciate it!"

"Don't mention it, Trickster! My humble persona is always ready to help you and hunting just happens to be my specialty. Until later!"

Capricious male from Pomefiore runs away faster than you can question whether fishing and hunting are the same, but at least he helped you out. Your boyfriend doesn't get along with him at all, but to your thought Rook is not a bad man. Or maybe you just have a thing for flamboyant people.

You reminisce about how you recently commented on the college's cafeteria lack of fish dishes you loved so much, only for the male to overhear it and offer you a whole basket of different sea dwellers today. You aren't sure if some of them can be even found in locations of NRC or near it, not to mention actually having it be caught and delivered to you. And for a small price of "remembering his good deed". Shady deals are pretty much a part of your life at this point, but you are sure this particular one won't sit right with Floyd. Well, not like he should know about it anyway.

You get to the task at hand, it is preparing all the goodies that you got. Clams and oysters, crabs and lobsters, mackerel, salmon, squids, and several other creatures, some that you don't recognize at all. You know you will be having a blast both preparing all of this and then eating! Your evening promises to be amazing.

"Oh, it smells so good! [Y/n], is there any tuna? Say there is!"

"I believe I see some! We're having a feast today, Grim!"

With an excited mewl following you to the kitchen you place the basket on the countertop with a small thud. It's cold to touch and permits no smell that fish usually gives off. You're as unfamiliar with magic as one can get in this world and Rook knows about it just as well as the next Heartslabyul student. Pretty considerate of him to cast some cooling spell on it. But you will be doing everything with your own hands from this point, just like you always do. Apron in place, sleeves of your shirt rolled up. When fleeting Ramshackle dorm somebody left the knives too, you take the one that you sharpened prior. Time to get started!

"[Y/n]! It's the best! My lovely, tasty tuna! Let's dig in!"

Salmon's pale orange meat easily pierced by a fork, an alluring aroma of spices surrounds you, you place it in your mouth and it basically melts there, leaving a unique aftertaste. You've missed it. You are no chef, but your skills are enough to cook the dishes you've eaten countless times already. It's due to thank Rook for the amazing evening. Nothing can make it better at this point.

"Shrimpy, I'm home! Did you miss me? I missed you~ What a tasty smell-"

Faster than you can take another bite, Floyd bursts into the dorm, making a beeline straight to the kitchen, lead by the scent of your cooking. You've forgotten, haven't you? Elated about the perspective of finally partaking into your favorite dishes once again after the long while, you forgot about inviting your boyfriend altogether. Caught red-handed; or more like open-mouthed. Floyd stops right before the dining table, watches intently first your dinner, then you. You slowly put the food back on the plate, your nervous chuckle fills the awkward pause, before your unexpected guest stars to talk again.

"Whatcha doing here Shrimpy? Eating? Why not come to Monstro Lounge? Why not welcome me?"

Hit with the string of questions, put under the pressure by the deadpan gaze he is giving you while still upholding that carefree smile of his, you hurry to the cupboard to bring Floyd a plate. The male has already leisurely taken his place behind the table. Back turned to him, you don't feel like you can be rescued from this situation, or at least pardoned from giving him some sort of answer. You know pretty well how badly Floyd handles separation and boredom, since entering these relationships you've become his first and most welcome relief from both of those feelings. Being excluded from your life is rather upsetting for him.

By the time you sit back the grey cat, your only other companion in the dorm is nowhere to be seen.

"I was just about to call you. It's been a long time I have eaten any of these, got a little carried away. Sadly, Monstro Lounge has little of things I like, and I already tasted everything I could."

Listening to your rambling with a placid smile, Floyd hasn't said a thing, only hummed twice, commenting on how he is usually the one preparing you all the dishes at the cafe and now it is his turn to taste your cooking. You hope that the sigh you let out is not visible, the stress instilled by the awkwardness of the situation you got into is slowly draining from your body, making your movements lighter, calmer. A hard contrast to Floyd, who seemingly didn't move one inch in his seat, continuing to observe you.

"And where did you even get all of these tasty creatures from, Shrimpy?"

You hurriedly bring some piece of meat from the variety of dishes you prepared to your mouth to and bite into it, your words muffled and hurried. You did nothing wrong so why does it feel like an interrogation?

"O-oh, my friends gave me this basket, I'm very grateful to them-"

You don't manage to finish your sentence.

"Ah, Shrimpy~ Lying to me, not welcoming me to dinner and now eating one of my kind...

You really want to get at me for something, don't you?"

• Perceives you eating eel dishes as a personal attack, Floyd will make you stop at any cost if he sees you eating one. He's peeved at the sight and starts to think back to things he could have done to you that made you angry with him, or reasons for you to trying to start a fight, you're basically eating him! He doesn't fear a Shrimp like you, but the sight is unnerving him.

• But Floyd does share your fondness for seafood, it's the only food he has eaten for most of his life after all! Monstro Lounge has a wide variety of fish dishes and he will gladly prepare anything to you as long as it's in their stock. And he's a pretty great cook too! And utterly the worst to eat with, he'll annoy you so by taking away your utensils and feeding you himself until you'll eventually either lose a nerve or burst from embarrassment. While Floyd generally loves eating what you prepare, he especially looks forward to you cooking sea creatures, not only for the taste but also to see how a land dweller usually eats them, what kind of recipes you have.

• Will cook some squid or octopus at Monstro Lounge, just before the closing, a time during Azul always goes out of the VIP room to supervise the cafe, and then share it with you, praising the taste and smell all the while, looking at his friend straight into the eyes, searching for a reaction. Encourages you to do so too. It will not end without furious Azul chastising laughing Floyd, and depending on if you like to join your boyfriend in his pranks, then you too.

• If you did something to upset him, but not enough for him to argue with you, expect to see Floyd order a handful of shrimps and eat them in a simultaneously gross and intimidating way. Does he want to threaten you? You don't know if you should be scared that he's eating "you", angry that he wastes food instead of talking with you or amused by his childishness.

• If you happen to be somewhere near the lake or sea, where there are sure lots of fish, Floyd will hunt some for you. Two birds with one stone: he gets to see you happy and hear you thank and praise him, and he can spend some time in the water, trading human legs for his dear tail and fins. Fishermen hate him, he catches what he needs, but all other fish swims away, scared.

Azul Ashengrotto🐙

"It sure is busy during this time of the year."

You have to grab your boyfriend's hand tighter, afraid to lose him in the raucous crowd that is so hell-bent on pushing you from side to side. Merchants touting passers-by to look at their stands, food stalls and crowds that get drawn to them, why would you want to get a picture with this monkey, no, children happy to ditch their parents and go run amok and you don't want to get started on the unbearable heat, today is unusually hot. Most of your vacation with Azul has been calm and relaxed, you greatly enjoyed yourself, resting under the shadows, once or twice nearly lulled into sleep by the tranquil sound of waves hitting the shore. The most action you got was when you showed off your new swimwear to Azul and when you had to catch the sandal that almost got taken by the sea, so this commotion is tiring you exceedingly fast. The only upside is that Azul is still by your side, his company definitely the best part of this small getaway you have.

"It is, yes... But it is to be expected, especially from the main street. Wavecrest Neptunalia is one of the few holidays that merfolk and humans share and come together to celebrate, each on their own land. It's a festival dedicated to praising the sea so there bound to be a lot of "sea gifts" for you to eat too."

He goes on a little rant about the origin, customs, traditions, and so on. You only know just how stunning he looks. You get little chance in the college to see him wear less fabric or express himself so freely, you don't even have that much time to be with him at all, damned be responsibilities of dorm leaders, extra curriculum and other crap. Doesn't Azul not handle hot weather well himself? He's a bit red in the face, and a few loose silver strands have stuck to his forehead, but otherwise, he seems very upbeat. You like that look on him.

When he expectantly turns in your direction you do not show you've been preoccupied with looking at him, rather than listening, although some parts did get through to you.

"You sure did your homework, Azul."

"I always do my homework- Ah... Yes, it's our first trip and you would have no way knowing about it, I wanted to give you the insight."

Isn't he the most adorable and loving man in the whole Twisted Wonderland? To you he is. He may have his own hang-ups, but you love him whole, you can't not to. You smile warmly at him and squeeze his hand, he may overheat if you try to do more while in public, you can deduce as much from the way his face reddens profusely at such small gestures.

"I appreciate it, thank you."

To turn back your head to the street, just in time to notice the sign of some rather intriguing looking restaurant. Perfect, you get to hide from both people and less than nice weather and also eat!

"Well then, you mentioned "sea gifts" - I want to try them, let's find someplace to eat! This one looks interesting."

The interior is styled with a lot of sea motives, the main attraction, a huge barracuda skeleton, hanging from the ceiling. You notice Azul looking around, in the end being pretty unimpressed, humans design and decoration abilities did not meet his expectations. Despite that both you and he find yourself shocked by the diversity the menu is offering. You make a mental note to make sure you walk out of this place on your two, and not rolled out by Azul in a form of a happy, big ball.

"Dear, you know what to order, I must excuse myself. Don't get bored."

He sends you a smirk, before disappearing into the general direction of the restroom. But look at this menu, they even have a separate page for every creature, crazy...

By the time Azul returned you have already made an order, waiting time passes unnoticed, you're too engrossed into your chat, discussing with Azul nothing in particular, you believe you could enjoy being silent with him. You don't mind it when your boyfriend goes quiet when your first dish is served to you.

"Octopus carpaccio, huh, [Y/n]."

You look shocked, like a guilty puppy. Only a sigh follows suit from him. He did forget octopus was nearly the first in the list of your most favorite seafood. You sure do love his kind, no matter the form they come in, he's the prime example. Azul catches himself on the thought that all people dear to him are either octopuses or love to eat them, no in-between. He wonders whether there's some kind of odd curse cast upon him. His businessman smile takes place on his face.

"How about a deal? You won't notice me eating this fried chicken later and I'll pretend this one never happened too?"

• Azul is unfortunately used to be the butt of jokes about eating his animal form, all credits to Leech twins, he's also well aware of how popular octopus dishes are in general among people, mer or not. He's rather chill with you liking to eat something made of his animal counterpart, but no matter how distanced he feels from his merman form he gets nervous at the sight of you eating those dishes, of anyone really eating them before him, and he gets more agitated if you taunt him with it. His hands are full with two eels, he doesn't need you teasing him too, no matter how lighthearted it is.

• Is it deep-fried? Yes? Then Azul loves it. No? He won't see the allure, even if you try to convince him otherwise. He eats his vegetables, but not without a feeling of disgust, he would rather have something less "grass-like", so he understands when you express how much you love seafood, and he's happy as long as it's healthy for you. For that reason he will either feed you at Monstro Lounge or in a really trustworthy place, goes in hand with his little quirk of going out with you to different restaurants and cafes.

• Please, don't tell him that his merman form looks tasty, he will get scared, it's not a joke. If he finds a pot to hide inside first you'll have to persuade him to leave it and then make it up by paying him countless compliments, apologizing is a must too. No, you can't take a bite! Maybe from his human body, but not this one. You don't like human flesh? Oh, mighty sea, help him.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twst imagines #azul ashengrotto x reader #twst azul #floyd leech x reader #twst floyd #jade leech x reader #twst jade #octavinelle #mel writes #the holliday is an easter egg i wonder if someone gets it

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rozzes · 3 years ago

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Dear Islamophobes,

Virtual hugs and kisses

How are you guys what are you doing how's life been treating you and all that type of things for me college has been a bit of beard I don’t know some days it’s really great allergic I just feel like what is happening right now is what is happening, and I don’t know what is but is getting their awesome I do have some I do write notes that are excellent so if you’re interested in that do put comments down below help I sell it for a very low price is math and Spanish notes if you are interested, do right meet down below until then enjoy this and have a great day-night wherever you are in this world.

Today’s topic might be a bit controversial, and it's Religion. I’m Muslim as I’ve mentioned before and that is a huge part of who I am as a human being my life the way I act everything is related to who I am at the heart and that is a Muslim. I know if we don’t we might not share the same religion we might not share the same beliefs you might not even believe in God you might believe in more than one God, but you might learn something new from this article if you decide to go on reading it. The first thing I think everyone sees when they look at me is my hijab and I feel like that is a Muslim identity on its own you would see a woman wearing a scarf in her head, and you say is a hijab is a Muslim is a visual representation of what I believe in the thing that gets many people angry agitated nervous because of the way it's portrayed on television and the way they’ve made this stereotype of who I am. I get so angry I’m the one who should be angry when I see the things they put on TV the way I am forced to wear it the way I go around shooting people or bombing or taking it off for a very basic white boy who is not even that good-looking like honestly desmosome end like that seen on Netflix where a woman was fasting in Ramadan, and she decided to break her fast by taking a shot and saying BismAllah are you serious????!!! The disrespect, but I have to be the nice person I have to be the good representation of Islam, and we do have it as saying that we always need to be better, always need to show them the best side of us, yet it sometimes hurts to be the nice guy while everyone thinks you’re ******* anyway.

On the other hand, these people are still mad at me because I’m wearing the hijab why because I’m restricted I am forced quote unquote but if anyone is restricted as them, I’m restricting them from seeing things that they're used to from seeing things that they want to see I’m not allowing you because it’s my body my choice, and they’d be the most people supporting her body her choice and then when she decides to cover it no no way you decided to cover it, what if I did what you can do Karen and on what are you going to do nothing get mad spit at me try to pull a hijab off trip someone starts shouting racist slurs out loud because you think I’m not from here because I can’t be from here can I what you don't understand is maybe I am maybe she is but does that matter because if you’re racist you’re Islamophobic that's it.

I’m not just going to talk about the visual identity things that are so you saying all the time sometimes it will slip out of me like MashaaAllah which means wow, but I don’t want to jinx you or InshAllah like I hope God allows it if it’s good for you, I hope he does make it come true or if I say something that is so beautiful, and I use super SubhanAllah like wow how is that even possible or Alhamdulillah which is thanking God for the way I am, or the way things went or things that are going a certain way, and it just always comes to head. Twakul called another word, which means fully giving into the flow that God allows whatever it is the flow of money the flaw success the flow work my life in general just going the way God wants it to go I will have that because if God wants to allow it no matter how hard you work it won’t happen it won’t be for the good so if your heart does not feel like it's a good thing to do just don’t do it, cut it off.

Many situations come to mind or in certain moments in life and I remember this area or that quote or that draw Anne I feel how beautiful my religion is how connected I am even though I struggle I struggled so much with prayers five times a day you probably know that I struggled so much with it some days I don’t feel like doing it sometimes I skip one, and I keep thinking about it like what if I just prayed it what would have happened to me nothing I would have been happier, and I wouldn’t have felt this guilty, so I try harder the next day because honestly, I feel like this life is not worth it, the things we see on TV the news we see I truly believe that we’ll find something better after this one is done, and I hope it’s done fast, but I want to live, but I hope it’s dumb fast you know I’m saying I’m just incredibly grateful for being who I am believing in what I believe and doing what I’m doing, and I hope you feel the same whatever it is that to feel, believe, do. Just take some time off and really decide to find whatever it is that will make you happy.

Stay safe lots of love

#islamophobia #beautiful #amazing #reading #muslim #quran #allah #religion #beauty #representation #sad aesthetic #hijab #write #writers on tumblr #creative writing #journaling #journey #blograzan

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frecklesandstardust · 4 years ago

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Let’s Talk About Klaus

Hi, friends. The Umbrella Academy’s second season came out recently. I finished it about twelve hours after. And I have feelings. We need to talk about Klaus.

Now, here is my disclaimer. From the very first moment I saw him, Klaus was my favorite, but please read to the end before yelling about how Klaus-stans refuse to see his negative qualities. Thank you <3 (Also, this will involve spoilers for Season 2 and probably be an essay, so be prepared.)

Okay, first of all. Let’s look at Season 1 Klaus.

He’s an asshole. Just like all of his siblings. They were raised by a narcissistic egomaniac and given hero complexes from pretty much the second they were born. Obviously they all lack empathy and healthy coping mechanisms. We can all agree on that.

However, Klaus is also kind. So unbelievably kind. He makes crass jokes and looks out for himself first, but he is also so caring.

When we first see him, he is encouraging people in rehab. He has a rapport with the EMT who brings him back to life. He hugs Allison as soon as he sees her at the mansion and seems genuinely concerned about her and her life. When the giant portal opens, he grabs a fire extinguisher and runs to the front to try and protect his siblings. Siblings who essentially ignored and belittled him for years.

Fast forward and we see him helping Diego and Five and Luther. We see him caring, sincerely caring about his siblings. He breaks a snowglobe over his head to help Five get the answers he needs. He follows Luther to a rave and dies trying to save his life, even though he’s riddled with PTSD and freshly sober. We see him try so fucking hard to not give out any information about Five when he’s being literally tortured by assassins. He saves Diego from Hazel and Cha-Cha at the hotel, even though he could have stayed safe in the car. He risked his life to save a brother who didn’t even notice he had been kidnapped.

We watch him die. We watch him get locked in a museum by his father figure and tortured by his abilities. We watch him be traumatized over and over again by ghosts that look just as gruesome as the day they died. We watch him be hurt and kidnapped. We watch him get thrust into a literal war, where he lost his soulmate after staying and fighting for ten months because he was just that in love with Dave.

Out of every character, Klaus clearly has the most trauma. This isn't even including the fact that he was homeless for years and alluded to non-consensual sexual situations. Ergo, trading sex for a place to sleep and things like that. I am personally of the belief that Reggie was the reason Klaus broke his jaw, which Diego talks about in S1, but that’s my own opinion.

Looking at all of that, Klaus has PTSD out the whazoo. Like, he is filled to the brim with trauma and no one cares enough to ask or help him. Five sees him after Dave dies and only cares about the briefcase. Diego hears that he lost someone and has the absolute audacity to call Klaus “lucky” because at least he can see them whenever he wants. Not one of his siblings understands Klaus’s powers and that’s terrifying because he had to deal with screaming, tormented ghosts completely by himself. Imagine that. Powers that you can’t control eating you alive and the only thing that helps dim the noise is drugs.

And your family doesn’t care enough to ask. They just write you off as a useless junkie.

Now, like I mentioned earlier, Klaus is not an innocent quote unquote soft boi. He is inherently selfish. But, he had to be. He had to be selfish in order to survive. He was on the streets. Alone. If he wasn’t selfish, he would have been dead ten times over.

He stole things. He lied. He hurt people. He was an asshole. Just like they all were.

But he was never cruel.

His relationship with Ben in the first season was pretty awesome. We get to see the snark and the familiarity and the bond between them. And it makes sense, to some extent, why Ben is constantly trying to get Klaus to be better. If Klaus hasn’t seen his siblings for years, neither has Ben. I genuinely think Ben wanted to believe that they had changed. He wanted his siblings to be good, decent people.

That’s why he told Klaus to go after Luther. Why he told him that his family would notice he was missing when he get kidnapped by Cha-Cha and Hazel.

But it does not excuse the fact that Ben never apologized. He was wrong and he never said sorry for it. He inadvertently got Klaus killed and he never admitted that he made a mistake.

He was there for so much of Klaus’s trauma and he just brushed it off. We never see Ben try to be there for Klaus or try to help him come to terms with everything. Ben can see the other ghosts. He knows that they’re terrifying and that Klaus’s powers are completely haywire. Why doesn’t he acknowledge that?

Let’s move on to Season 2.

For some reason, all of Klaus’s character development has been tossed out the window. He is a wildcard with no plot line to follow. He says random things and seems to act as comedic relief for the most part, except it rarely works.

For starters, his powers are completely gone, for the most part. We see him in a brief opening scene absolutely kicking ass with his ghost army. But, after that, we don’t see any ghost except Ben. We don’t see him learning to control his powers or talking to ghosts. We don’t even hear about his powers. It’s like they’ve been erased.

That kind of trauma doesn’t go away. Especially when we find out he has been sober for three years.

I’ve seen some people argue that he traded addictions. Swapped the drugs for the cult and the adoration that came with it. I don’t agree to that for a few reasons.

First, he is very clearly uncomfortable with the cult touching him. And we see in the flashback that it happened completely by accident. Klaus was, again, trying to survive. Was it selfish? Yeah. Did he use that old woman to shamelessly find a place in a world he’s not supposed to exist in? Yeah! But, like I stated earlier, Klaus knows how to survive. He knows what to do to get by. All he is doing is trying to survive. Ben can scream all he wants about fairness, but he wasn’t offering up any options to get Klaus a place to sleep and a way to survive in the past.

Second, we don’t know how the cult came about exactly. We don’t know what started it. We don’t know how it spiraled from whatever it started as into a cult. And Klaus hates it. He spends the entire season trying to get away from everyone. He used it as a means to survive and then wanted space. His entire plan was to get to 1963 and save Dave--probably from the start of 1960, to be honest. But to get to Dave, he had to survive. He had to get to a place where saving Dave was possible. He can’t save him if he’s dead or homeless.

Third, Klaus very openly is touch-starved and desperate for attention. He spent his childhood being overlooked and his adulthood being treated like a disease. He just wants someone to take him seriously and care about him. The cult does. They love him for who he is, for his weird humor and mannerisms. They believe him when he talks. He’s never had that before, not since Dave.

He finally has a group of people that genuinely care about what he has to say. Even if it’s all bullshit! They still listen to him. So, of course he sticks around. Of course he lets it grow. He thinks everyone he loves is dead! He’s holding onto the only thing he can. It just happens to be a cult.

Next point: Ben.

Ooh boy, this is gonna be a long one.

Ben is also not a soft boi. One tender scene with Vanya does not undo an entire season of cruelty and callousness.

Before we get into that, let’s talk about the point everyone brings up: Klaus didn’t tell anyone Ben was there!

Why should he? They never believed him the first thousand times he tried to tell them. What makes it any different fifty years in the past?

But aside from that, I have two theories.

One, I’m curious as to if he was subconsciously trying to punish Ben. Ben essentially got him killed at the rave with Luther. He also never apologized, as I mentioned earlier. He blows Klaus off, just like the rest of his siblings, even though, out of anyone, Ben should know better. From the very beginning of S2, Ben is saying some pretty nasty stuff to Klaus. Low blows that shouldn’t be brought up. If that’s been happening for 3+ years, it’s possible that Klaus internally is punishing Ben for being just like the others.

Second, he’s scared of losing Ben. It’s been 17 years of only having Ben by his side. Constantly. And we know Klaus has watched the love of his life bleed out right in front of him. That’s PTSD. And PTSD doesn’t exactly involve healthy coping methods. So, it’s entirely possible that Klaus doesn’t saying anything about Ben being there because he is scared to lose him to his siblings. If Ben is corporeal, if they know Ben is there, what’s stopping Ben from leaving to go spend all his time with someone else? Someone that isn’t Klaus? Klaus could be trying to protect himself from losing another person.

Does that make it okay for Klaus to hide the fact that Ben is there? No. But does it kind of make sense? Yeah. Ben deserved to reconnect with his family, but Klaus is traumatized beyond belief and clearly isn’t in the right state to make sound and logical decisions all the time. If we can forgive Five for murdering the Commission Board in cold blood and Vanya for blowing up the world twice, we can forgive Klaus for keeping Ben’s existence to himself (especially since he tried to tell them in S1 and was immediately written off as an attention whore.)

Now, let’s talk about the possession, aka my least favorite thing about the entire season.

Ben possessing Klaus is assault. End of story. Non-negotiable. It’s not funny. It’s not cute. It’s not “payback.” It’s assault.

We know that Klaus is terrified by his powers. We know that he has trauma in his past, involving non-consensual experiences. So does Ben. Worse, Ben was there for a lot of it.

Ben flat out ignored Klaus’s discomfort for his own selfish gain. He was so hellbent on possessing Klaus that he ignored the fact that Klaus was terrified to go to sleep because he knew Ben would possess him without consent.

And let’s acknowledge the fact that Klaus doesn’t owe Ben anything. He has no obligation to let himself be possessed. Ben is dead. And that’s horrible. It’s unfair and Ben did not deserve to die. But he. is. dead. The dead do not get free access to the bodies of the living just because they want to feel things again.

Ben completely disregarded Klaus’s feelings because he had a crush on a girl who didn’t even know he existed. Klaus, who willingly accepted possession the second he realized it was important to Ben. Klaus, who laid out strict ground rules, showing he was clearly terrified of the idea, but still did it anyway because he loves his brother and harbors guilt for conjuring him the day of Ben’s funeral. Klaus, who had just been brushed off after failing to stop Dave from enlisting.

Ben possesses him and almost immediately starts to make out with a girl who thinks he is Klaus. That is sexual assault. If I have a twin sister and that twin sister sleeps with my husband, who believes she is me, then she has raped him. That is rape.

Ben doing anything physical with that girl, who clearly showed that she was interested in Klaus, is sexual assault. She did not consent to sleep with Ben. She consented to sleep with Klaus, who was trying his best to break the possession and stop the entire thing from happening.

And Ben fought him on it. We see them struggle in Klaus’s body for the next several minutes. Ben doesn’t care that Klaus is clearly uncomfortable, that Klaus wants him out. He selfishly wants to stay in control because of his own desires. He ignores Klaus’s rules and does what he wants without considering the consequences.

This is the third time that Ben has used possession to control Klaus. We see it when they are fighting earlier in the season at the cult mansion. We see it again at the dinner with Reginald. We see Klaus essentially have a seizure (and we see none of his family members ask if he is okay. They just roll their eyes.) We see Klaus literally vomit once he forces Ben out of him in that alley with Five and Luther. Still, no one asks if he is okay.

Worse than that, Ben says that he no regrets. And then reiterates the statement! Ben assaulted his brother and does not give a flying fuck. That’s crueler than anything Klaus has ever done. I would argue that it’s the cruelest thing any of the Hargreeves have done, to be honest.

It doesn’t matter how much of an asshole Klaus is or how selfish or how flamboyant. His consent still matters. His boundaries are just as important.

Overall, this season just gave Klaus more trauma while still leaving his PTSD and mental illness completely unaddressed. They essentially removed his powers and took away his bond with Ben. Like, in the first season, Ben is almost always with Klaus. That is Klaus’s power, after all. In the second season, Klaus’s entire arc is without Ben. All of his missions are without Ben present.

There is absolutely no fucking way that Klaus wouldn't bring Ben with him to get tacos with Vanya and Allison. He loves Ben, more than anyone. We see that constantly in the first season, outside of a few mishaps.

I love Ben. I genuinely love Ben and his story in the first season. But in S2, they took him and twisted him into a callous thing with no respect for consent or his brother. If those three years with Klaus in 1960 were anywhere near as bad as what we see in 1963, I can see why Klaus wouldn’t want Ben around his family.

I was supposed to love Ben and cry for him. And don’t get me wrong, I did. I cried a lot in the last episode. But that scene with Vanya? Where he tells her she’s not a monster and that they should have done better and that they could help her control her powers? That’s the exact same damn speech he should have told Klaus. Vanya’s destruction was always outward. It always cost millions of people their lives. Klaus’s was inward. So why does Vanya deserve the help and love and support while Klaus gets tossed aside?

They both needed a family and only one of them got it this season. Sure, Allison and Klaus had some great scenes together. But she didn’t ask if he was okay when Ben possessed him at dinner. She didn’t check on him.

Klaus deserved better. He deserved to work through is trauma and to have a family that takes care of him and supports him and helps him figure out how to deal with the ghosts. He deserved to control his own body and to say no when Ben wanted to possess him. He deserved a goddamn hug.

Klaus was inherently selfish. However, he also gave up everything. He sacrificed his entire relationship with Dave to try and save his life. If he had succeeded, if Dave had never enlisted, they never would have met. They never would have fallen in love. Dave would never remember being with him. He nearly gave that up to protect the love of his life.

Klaus is not perfect. He’s an asshole at best sometimes. But he’s also kind and compassionate and loves harder than every other character on that show. He deserved better.

This has turned into a massive essay, but the bottom line is that S2 let Klaus and Ben down. So many things were handled poorly--from consent to mental illness. It could have been great. It could have been an opportunity to fix a lot of the mistakes made in the first season. Ben and Klaus could have talked everything out and figured out the ghosts and the war and the trauma together. They were never given that chance.

There were so many good parts of this season, but the bad parts were so bad that it tainted the rest. I know the writers could have done better. They did it with Luther and Allison! They made their characters great this season and showcased some amazing relationships between the siblings. I’m confused as to how they let Klaus and Ben fall through the cracks so heavily.

#tua #The Umbrella Academy #klaus #klaus hargreeves #reginald hargreeves #s2 #tua spoilers #spoilers #dave #ben hargreeves

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