#before i knew it i was emotionally attached to this loser

[boyyeahright]

DON'T LOOK AT ME

[hoshifighting]

𖧷 crybaby

— synopsis: seungcheol can’t help but be a crybaby every time you break his heart, yet he always comes running back to you, desperate for your attention. even when you leave him cold for days or push him away, he can’t seem to stay away. his friends and family don’t get it—they hate how you treat him.

— WC: 4.6k — WARNINGS: agnst, smut, emotionallly detached!reader, emotionally attached!seungcheol, crying, he kind of pisses his friends and family out because of his whiny ass, explicit language, blowjob, cock riding, clit stimulation, face slapping, choking. — inspired by: cry baby by megan thee stallion — ''his friends and his dad hate me, I broke his lil' heart, he's a crybaby"

seungcheol was such a fucking crybaby. like, how does a man that big, that beefy, built like he could crush a watermelon between his thighs, have the emotional resilience of a damp tissue? 5′10 of pure gym dedication and somehow, here he was, sulking like a kicked puppy in the corner of his own damn birthday party. honestly, you broke his heart so many times you’d lost count, but the man was like a boomerang—always came back. didn’t matter how hard you threw him.

his friends absolutely hated you. well, maybe hate was strong—more like they hated how he acted because of you. jeonghan said you lived rent-free in his head, which you knew was true. but the real kicker was his family. they couldn’t stand hearing your name. apparently, he cried into his whiskey glass over you at his last family dinner. like, straight-up sniffles and shaky voice in front of his dad. the boys’ nights weren’t any better; they’d barely crack open a soju bottle before seungcheol was teary-eyed, rambling about you like you were the love of his life and not the emotional hurricane you were.

but that’s the thing, though. seungcheol was built for family. the whole package—white picket fence, Sunday brunches, PTA meetings. meanwhile, you were emotionally unavailable as fuck. couldn’t even commit to a favorite boba flavor, let alone a relationship. and now, you’d ghosted him for a week. a whole-ass week. no texts, no calls, not even the stupid memes you usually sent him at 3 a.m.

today was his birthday. his fucking birthday.

the party at his place was in full swing—laughter, good food, good drinks, jeonghan and mingyu lowkey roasting him about his “girlfriend” (air quotes and all). his parents were there too, of course. his brother had even flown in. but cheol barely moved from the couch all night. just sat there, one arm slung over the backrest, looking at his phone like a guy waiting for a miracle.

because in his head, if you were his girlfriend—like, properly his—you’d be here. with him. celebrating, holding his hand, maybe sitting in his lap. but instead, he got radio silence.

“bro, seriously, what the fuck is your problem?” jeonghan hissed, leaning over the couch to snatch the beer from cheol’s hand. “your mom’s asking why you look like you’re about to cry into the birthday cake.”

“i’m fine,” cheol muttered, but even he didn’t sound convinced.

“no, you’re not. you’ve checked your phone like a hundred times, and it’s giving ‘sad loser.’ cut it out before mingyu makes a meme out of you.”

but cheol didn’t cut it out. he just stared at the screen, lips pulled into a pout so tragic it could’ve been a fucking Greek play. the hours dragged. one by one, people started leaving, and eventually, it wasn’t even his birthday anymore.

august 9th. 9:54 p.m.

cheol sighed, running a hand through his hair, looking like he was about to combust.

and then, his phone buzzed.

one message.

from: future girlfriend ❤️ - “come over.”

that’s it. two words, no explanation. cheol shot up from the couch so fast he nearly knocked over the coffee table.

jeonghan raised an eyebrow. “where the hell are you going?”

cheol didn’t answer. he was already grabbing his keys, muttering something about how he’d “she texted me.”

he hard his friend groan out in defeat, disappointment, some even surprised that seungcheol would leave his own party like that.

while you were still just chilling at your place, sitting there like nothing had happened, waiting to see if this man who you’d left on read for a week would actually show up.

spoiler alert—he would.

the door wasn’t even locked—like you’d left it wide open for him, knowing he’d come running the second you told him to. seungcheol stepped inside your apartment, and it was so you in a way that made his chest tighten. that familiar scent? god, it was everywhere. in the air, clinging to the couch, the walls, probably gonna soak into his clothes and stay there for days, torturing him. like you’d marked your territory without even trying.

he moved on autopilot, his feet carrying him down the hallway to your bedroom like he didn’t even need directions. the door was cracked open, and he froze for a second when he saw you.

you were standing there, slipping a sheer robe over your shoulders—transparent. and it wasn’t doing a damn thing to hide you. the way the fabric barely skimmed over your hips, nipples peeking through, leading his eyes all the way down to the hem that just teased your thighs… it was insane.

you turned your head slightly, catching him in the doorway like some kind of lost puppy. your expression was unreadable, but he looked at you like you were magic or something—eyes wide, lips slightly parted. pathetic.

you stepped toward him, and before he could even process it, his hands moved to your waist like they belonged there. your arms looped lazily around his neck, and the warmth of your skin had his breath hitching. you glanced over his shoulder at the clock on the wall—10:01 p.m.—then met his gaze, your lips curling.

“happy birthday… birthday boy,” you said, your voice smooth as velvet.

he exhaled shakily, his eyes fluttering shut like the sound of your voice was too much. his brows knit together in that pitiful little frown you’d missed more than you cared to admit.

“why’d you leave me like that?” he muttered, voice cracking slightly. “did… did i do something? i’m sorry, i—”

you didn’t answer, didn’t even flinch, because honestly? you didn’t have a reason. there was no deep, dark explanation, no hidden agenda. you just did.

instead, you pushed him backward toward the bed, your hands firm on his chest. he stumbled slightly but kept talking, his voice climbing higher in pitch.

“please, just—just tell me. what did i do? i can fix it, i swear, just—”

you pushed him harder this time, and he landed on the bed with a bounce. he stared up at you, eyes glassy, lips trembling. “answer me,” he whined, his voice soft and desperate.

“shhh,” you hushed, pressing a finger to his lips.

he whimpered at the touch, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “why—why won’t you just—”

your hand came down on his cheek in a sharp slap. not too hard, but enough to make him moan, his mouth falling open in a perfect little “o.”

“quiet,” you said firmly, watching as his expression shifted. the sting seemed to zap the fight out of him, his mouth closing into a pout as his tears spilled over.

“aww,” you cooed, leaning down to brush your thumb under his eye. “don’t cry, birthday boy. let me give you a gift.”

his gaze flickered immesiately. a gift? he nodded eagerly.

“you gonna be good for me?” you asked, tilting your head.

“y-yeah,” he stammered, his voice so small it made you smile.

your hands moving to his belt. the way he watched you, like you were about to destroy his dignity, was almost comical.

you tugged his pants and underwear down in with a graceful sweep, leaving him bare and exposed. his cock was already rock hard, flushed red and leaking precum that smeared against his stomach.

“look at you,” you teased, wrapping a hand around the base. his breath hitched at the contact, his hips jerking slightly. “crying all over yourself, huh?”

he let out a choked whimper, his hands fisting the sheets beside him. “i—i can’t help it,” he whispered.

“poor baby,” you mocked, your thumb swiping over the tip to collect the sticky wetness. his whole body twitched at the motion, his eyes squeezing shut as more tears slipped down his cheeks.

you leaned down, letting your lips hover just above him. “you’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you? never let you have it before, but tonight… you’re special.”

he nodded frantically, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. “please,” he begged, his voice breaking.

you smiled, finally taking him into your mouth. the heat and wetness made him sob outright, his hands flying to your hair but stopping short—like he was scared to touch you without permission.

“oh—fuck, fuck, fuck,” he babbled, his thighs trembling as you worked him over. your tongue dragged along the veins as your hand played with his balls, and he keened, his head falling back against the pillows.

“so good,” he choked out, tears streaming down his face. “m-missed you.”

you hummed around him, and the vibrations nearly sent him over the edge. his whole body tensed, his hips bucking slightly as he moaned your name.

“gonna be good for me?” you asked, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze.

“y-yes,” he stammered, his eyes glassy and desperate. “so good, i’ll be so good, please—”

“then take it,” you said, and he did.

your tongue swirled around the swollen tip of his cock, drawing a shuddering breath out of him that turned into a whimper when you pulled back slightly, letting a string of spit connect your lips to his flushed skin. his chest heaved, his abs clenching under the weight of your stare.

you fold your tongue up and slid along the underside of his length, like you had all the time in the world. his thighs trembled as you worked your way down, your nails scratching lightly along the sides of his hips, keeping him still. by the time you reached his base, his whole body was taut, his hands fisted so tightly into the sheets you thought he might rip them.

“you’re so sensitive,” you murmured, letting your breath ghost over his skin.

“i can’t—” he choked, cutting himself off with a high-pitched moan when your tongue flicked over the soft skin of his balls.

you smiled against him, pressing a kiss to one of the heavy globes before taking it into your mouth, sucking gently. his hips jerked off the bed, but your hand pressed firmly against his stomach, pinning him down.

“stay still,” you ordered.

“i’m trying—fuck, i’m trying,” he babbled, his voice cracking. his head lolled to the side, his lips parted in a silent cry as you continued to suck and lick at him, your tongue tracing slow, wet circles.

your free hand moved back to his cock, wrapping around the shaft and stroking it slowly, your thumb smearing the precum that was steadily leaking from the tip.

“look at me,” you said, your voice softer this time.

his eyes fluttered open, glassy and red-rimmed, his gaze locking onto yours. the sight of you, lips wrapped around him, your hand working him in tandem, had him letting out a desperate, broken sound that went straight to your core.

“you like this?” you asked, pulling back slightly, your hand still stroking him as you kissed along his inner thigh.

“yes,” he gasped, his voice barely above a whisper. “fuck, yes. feels so good.”

“yeah?” you teased, your lips quirking into a smirk as you nipped at his skin. “you’ve been waiting for this? waiting for me to touch you like this?”

he nodded frantically, “always,” he admitted. “always wanted you like this. please don’t stop.”

you purred, letting your tongue glide back up to his base before taking him into your mouth again, this time deeper, letting him feel the heat of your throat. “fuck—oh my god,” he sobbed, his hands twitching at his sides, like he wanted to touch you but didn’t dare.

“go on,” you encouraged, pulling off just enough to speak. “touch me. you’re being good, aren’t you?”

his hands immediately flew to your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he let out another choked moan. “yes,” he breathed, “yes, so good, i’ll be so good for you.”

you hollowed your cheeks, bobbing your head slowly, your hand working in time with your movements. his thighs shook beneath you, his breath hitching every time your tongue pressed against the sensitive vein running along the underside of his cock.

“you’re so fucking pretty like this,” you said, pulling back just enough to let your spit-coated hand continue stroking him. “all flushed and crying for me. does it feel that good?”

“so good!” he gasped, tears spilling over again as he bucked his hips involuntarily.

you hummed in approval, your tongue flicking over the tip before dipping lower again, taking one of his balls into your mouth once more. the way his entire body shook beneath you, his voice breaking into desperate little cries—it was everything.

“you’re mine,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his skin. “aren’t you?”

“yours!” he sobbed, his voice cracking. “all yours...”

you pulled back, your lips slick with spit and precum, watching as seungcheol’s chest heaved like he’d just run a marathon. his head was tilted back against the pillows, mouth slightly open, a trail of drool glistening at the corner of his lips. his cock twitched in your hand, still throbbing and leaking like it couldn’t survive a second without you.

“cheol,” you said, your voice sharp enough to cut through the haze.

he didn’t answer. his eyes were half-lidded, rolling back as another pathetic whimper slipped past his lips.

“yah,” you hissed, your free hand moving down to cup his balls, squeezing them just enough to snap him out of it.

he jerked, his hips twitching as a choked cry tore from his throat. his wide, glassy eyes met yours, full of confusion, like he wasn’t sure whether to apologize or beg for more.

“you listening now?” you asked, your tone playful but firm.

“y-yeah,” he stammered.

you smirked, leaning forward just enough to let your breath fan over his cock. “good. now, tell me—do you want me to make you cum like this?” your hand gave his length a slow, deliberate stroke, watching as his eyes fluttered shut again. “or do you want me to ride you?”

his eyes snapped open at the second option, but he still didn’t answer. his mouth opened and closed like he was trying to speak but couldn’t get the words out, and you swore he looked like a little kid trying to pick between candy flavors.

“cheol,” you said again, your grip on his balls tightening just enough to make him yelp. “i’m not giving you both, so choose. now.”

he whimpered, his lower lip trembling as he looked at you like you were some kind of goddess and he didn’t want to disappoint.

“i—i want…” he trailed off, his voice cracking as his cock twitched in your hand again.

“come on,” you urged. “use your words, birthday boy.”

his cheeks flushed deeper, and he swallowed hard before finally stammering out, “i want you to ride me.”

“do you?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as your hand gave him one last teasing stroke.

“mhmm,” he breathed, his voice shaky but certain. “please. want to feel you. need to—need to be close to you.”

you smiled, your chest swelling. “good boy,” you murmured, releasing him completely and watching as he whimpered at the cut-off.

you climbed onto the bed, straddling his hips as his hands immediately flew to your thighs, gripping them like he was scared you’d disappear—again. the way his eyes roamed over your body, taking in every inch of exposed skin through the transparency of the robe, and the big slit that have been created as the robe opened up, made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

you reached between your legs, guiding his cock to your entrance, letting the tip tease your folds just enough to have him squirming beneath you.

“mm..fuck” he groaned, his head falling back against the pillows. “you’re so wet. is that—fuck, is that for me?”

“all for you,” you lied, he knew you were mocking him as you slowly sank down onto him.

the stretch was so good, never fails to make you arch your back, his cock filled you so perfectly had your breath hitching. but the sound he made was way down pathetic. it was half moan, half sob, like he couldn’t believe this was real.

“oh my god,” he choked, his hands flying to your waist as his hips jerked involuntarily. “you’re so—so tight. best birthday gift ever.”

you rolled your hips slowly, letting him feel every inch of your gummy walls, and his grip tightened, you can feel his strong fingers marking your meat.

“you like being used like this?”

“yes!” he gasped, his voice high and broken. “love it. love you.”

you froze for half a second, the words catching you off guard, but you quickly recovered, your lips curling into a smirk. “that so?”

“yeah,” he breathed, his eyes squeezing shut as you started to move again. “fuck, i love you. love everything about you.”

every roll of your hips, pulled more sounds from him than you thought possible—moans, gasps, sobs, all spilling from his lips like a declaration.

your hips moved in a steady rhythm, dragging his cock in and out of you in a way that made your thighs burn, but the way seungcheol looked at you—like you were the fucking universe—made it impossible to stop. you clenched around him, squeezing tightly, and his mouth fell open, a strained whimper spilling out as his fingers dug into your hips as you rocked your pussy back and forth.

you pushed his shirt up higher, your eyes falling on his chest, where his nipples were flushed a deep red against his tan skin. his brows furrowed in confusion when he noticed your gaze.

“what?” he asked, his voice hoarse and breathless.

“you don’t even know, do you?” you teased, your nails trailing up his chest. “how red they get when you’re about to cum?”

“what?” he repeated, his tone higher this time, all embarassed.

“oh, baby,” you cooed, leaning down to brush your lips against his. “you’re so fucking cute.”

his face flushed even deeper, and you felt his cock twitch inside you as your hands wrapped around his neck. his eyes widened immediately, his breath hitching as he stared up at you, his lips parted in surprise.

“you like this?” you asked, your grip tightening just enough to make his pulse race beneath your fingers.

he let out a strangled moan, his hands flying up to your thighs like he didn’t know whether to stop you or hold on tighter. “y-yeah,” he stammered, his voice cracking. “fuck, yeah.”

“then be good for me, cum for me, cheol. now.”

his entire body tensed, his hips jerking up. you clenched around him again, your grip on his neck firm as you ground down harder as the first waves of your orgasm hit you.

you raised your hips just in time, letting his cock slip out of you as he spilled all over his stomach, ropes of cum painting his skin. his head fell back against the pillows, his chest heaving as he let out a broken sob, his hands trembling against your thighs.

you collapsed onto his chest, your hand moving between your legs to circle your clit frantically, your moans muffled against his ear as you chased the last remnants of your own orgasm.

“oh my fucking god...” you panted, your fingers working faster as your hips ground against his thigh.

he turned his head slightly, his eyes hazy as he watched you, his lips parted in awe. “you’re…so beautiful...”

you moaned loudly as your orgasm hit you, your body shaking against his as you buried your face in his neck, your hand slowing to a stop.

as the high ebbed away, your body melted into his, your limbs heavy and your breath evening out. you let your full weight settle on him, and he groaned softly, the sound less of discomfort and more of deep, satisfied contentment. his arms came around you instinctively, holding you close, his hands splayed wide against your back like he never wanted to let go.

you lay there, your cheek pressed to his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear. you tried to ignore how your own heart raced, guilt creeping in as you replayed the last week in your head.

sometimes, you really felt like shit about the way you treated him. seungcheol was too good for you, with that big heart of his—always giving, always forgiving. the problem wasn’t him. it was you.

you hoped he couldn’t feel the way your heart thudded against his chest, the weight of your remorse making it beat faster.

you lifted your head slightly, pressing soft kisses to his cheek, your fingers tangling in his hair as you gently scratched at his scalp. he sighed, leaning into your touch like it was the only thing keeping him tethered.

“cheol,” you murmured, your voice softer than you planned. “can i give you one more gift tonight?”

he didn’t answer right away. his eyes drifted to the ceiling, a small, thoughtful smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“only one?” he asked after a moment.

you hummed, matching his teasing tone. “yeah. just one. better make it count, birthday boy.”

he chuckled softly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. instead, his gaze stayed fixed on the ceiling, his fingers tracing absent patterns on your back.

“i don’t think you can give me what i really want...” he said finally.

you tilted your head, your brows furrowing. “what do you mean?”

he hesitated before he turned his head to look at you, his eyes searching yours.

“i want to be here with you... but knowing that you… that you actually like me back.”

he held your gaze, his eyes raw and vulnerable, waiting for a response that you didn’t know how to give.

“cheol, you know that right now i—” you started, your voice cracking.

but he shook his head, his lips curving into a small, sad smile. “it’s okay,” he said quickly, though the way his arms tightened around you betrayed his words. “i didn’t mean to ruin the moment. i just… i had to say it.”

you didn’t know what to say. guilt churned in your stomach, your heart pounding against his chest as his words echoed in your head.

he deserved so much more than you could give, and yet here he was, holding you like you were his whole world.

seungcheol let out a shaky breath, his thumb brushing absentmindedly against the curve of your spine. “but since that won’t happen…” he trailed off, his voice wistful.

your chest tightened, the words striking a nerve you weren’t ready to deal with. you stayed silent, pressing your cheek against his shoulder, hoping he couldn’t see the way your brows knitted together.

“can you…” he hesitated, his fingers twitching against your skin. “can you come to my birthday party tonight? i know it’s late, but it’s probably still going. i’d love to see you there.”

you froze. you knew what he was asking—he wanted you to show up for him, to step into his world, even if it made you uncomfortable.

“cheol,” you said slowly, lifting your head to look at him. his expression was expectant.

“please,” he added, whispering in an almost pityful way. “just for a little while. it’s my birthday.”

you bit your lip, glancing away. the idea of walking into a room full of people who probably hated you wasn’t exactly appealing, but the way he looked at you, made it hard to say no.

“fine,” you muttered, avoiding his gaze.

“really?” he asked, his face lighting up instantly.

“yeah, really,” you said, rolling your eyes.

he sat up, pulling you with him.

you groaned, pushing against his chest. “ugh, fine. let me get ready, then.”

he followed you into the bathroom like a puppy, leaning against the doorway as you washed your face and fixed your hair. his gaze was soft, trailing over you like he was memorizing every detail.

“stop staring,” you said, your tone sharp but lacking any real bite.

“can’t help it,” he replied, his voice warm. “you’re gorgeous.”

you rolled your eyes again, but your cheeks flushed anyway, and you hated how easily he got to you.

“you should get ready too,” you said, pointing at him with a toothbrush in hand.

“i’m fine like this,” he said with a shrug, gesturing to his wrinkled shirt and jeans.

“you’re not showing up to your own party looking like you just got laid,” you shot back, smirking when his ears turned red.

“fine,” he grumbled, shuffling off.

by the time you were both dressed and ready, the nerves in your stomach were in full swing. seungcheol, however, looked ridiculously pleased with himself, his hand finding yours as he led you toward the door.

seungcheol practically vibrated with happiness as he led you up to the front door of his house. he tried so damn hard to play it cool, to keep his steps measured and his grin from stretching too wide. but his chest felt like it might burst at any moment, the thought of walking in with you by his side enough to make him wanna jump like some kind of elf in a fairytale.

this was it. you were here. about to meet his family, his friends. his whole world.

he took a deep breath and opened the door, immediately met with a chorus of voices.

“finally!” jeonghan shouted, throwing his arms up like he’d been waiting for years.

“where the hell have you been?” his brother added exasperatedly.

seungcheol pressed his lips together, holding back a smile as he glanced over his shoulder at you. “i, uh…” he rubbed the back of his neck, glancing down for a second before looking back up, his voice soft but proud. “i needed to bring someone special before the ‘happy birthday.’”

the room fell silent as you stepped out from behind him, your hands clutching the straps of your bag like a lifeline. your small, tentative smile was enough to stop everyone in their tracks.

you shifted awkwardly under the weight of their stares, the sound of the music thumping softly in the background the only thing filling the silence.

and that’s when it hit them.

oh.

this was the reason seungcheol had been acting so out of character, the reason he’d been spiraling for months. you weren’t just some girl he was into. no, you were a fucking vision. gorgeous in a way that made the room seem brighter. mesmerizing without even trying.

now they understood. now it all made sense.

of course he was crazy over you. of course he’d been spiraling. who wouldn’t be?

but the realization also came with a quieter, more awkward truth: this was the girl they’d all cursed out in private. the girl they’d ranted about after every drunken night where seungcheol had cried into his beer or disappeared to avoid them.

they exchanged quick glances. yeah, they got it now, but it didn’t erase the fact that they’d judged you before even meeting you.

a nagging question none of them dared to voice but couldn’t shake.

were you really worth it?

jeonghan, the one who never held his tongue, raised a brow and smirked. “well, shit. now i get it.”

seungcheol’s face flushed a deep red, his hand instinctively finding the small of your back as if to shield you from the inevitable onslaught of teasing.

but instead of cracking a joke, jeonghan just smiled and nodded, his eyes softening. “welcome,” he said, his voice genuine.

the others slowly followed suit, their smiles tentative but warm as they tried to mask their lingering curiosity.

and as seungcheol led you further into the house, his hand never leaving your back, he felt like he’d just won the lottery. because for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t walking into this house feeling defeated or embarrassed.

this time, he was walking in with you.

© 2024 Hoshi Fighting | All Rights Reserved

[starryevermore]

my friends call me a loser (dumb love 2) ✧ ruhn danaan

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

pairing: ruhn danaan x fem!reader 

summary: ruhn wanted forever with you, but he got in his head and fucked it all up. 

word count: 1,882

warnings?: angst city bitch, not proofread

PART ONE

Ruhn Danaan was, in a word, a massive fucking idiot, and Bryce had made it her mission to never let him forget it. 

“What the hell do you mean that you said it was casual between you two?!” she shouted when she found out. Ruhn had holed himself up in his room, blowing through his supply of mirthroot in a vain attempt to dull the pain. But Bryce wasn’t going to let him be miserable without giving him a piece of her mind. “She fucking adored you, and I thought you did too! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

All Ruhn could manage was another long drag of his joint. Bryce snatched it out of his hands and set it in the ashtray on his nightstand. The most Ruhn could manage for a reaction was a groan and a half-assed attempt to snatch it back from her. 

“Seriously Ruhn, what the fuck!?”

He shrugged. Honestly, he wasn’t sure why he did it. All Ruhn had to say was “fuck off” or, even better, that he truly liked you and he was fucking terrified of that, but all he could think to say was that it meant nothing even when it meant everything. Worse, he tried to prove to himself that he wasn’t emotionally attached to you. 

It failed miserably, if anyone was wondering. When he sauntered up to the faun across the bar, all of his usual lines lacked any luster. They didn’t feel right when it wasn’t you he was saying them to. And when the faun suggested they go to her place, Ruhn was already searching for any way to get out of it. He was relieved when he saw Bryce and Hunt making their way to the bar, and he excused himself with hardly a word to the faun. 

Ruhn had been delighted to hear that Bryce and Hunt had ran into you, and for Declan to confirm he saw you. He was ready to go find you, to finally have a nice evening. When Hunt said that you were actually on your way out, Ruhn couldn’t help but feel disappointed. And then a worse thought struck him—what if you had seen him with the faun? No, surely not. You weren’t the most confrontational person he knew, but you weren’t the type of person to stand for that sort of disrespect. If you had seen him, you would have said something. Besides, Bryce didn’t say anything that would indicate you were upset. Declan was oddly silent, but he also didn’t speak to you. Everything was fine. He hoped. 

Yet when he went home, earlier than everyone else because he was most certainly not having a good time, he was surprised to find his room noticeably empty of anything belonging to you. The only thing that remained was your faintly fresh scent—like you had just been there. When he asked Flynn, he wanted to wring his friend’s neck for letting you walk off like that. Yes, you had seemed fine. Yes, you had been joking around with him. But no one, no one, ever just packed up all of their stuff and everything be a-okay. 

Ruhn didn’t want to think about how many traffic violations he committed as he sped over to your apartment. All that he could focus on was seeing you, on hearing your voice, on making sure everything was still good. He never felt like a bigger idiot than when you forced him out, told him to lose your number, and cried on the other side of the door. Ruhn wasn’t sure how long he stood there, waiting for you to come out and say this was all a big joke or something, but he was gone before the sun came up. 

Bryce’s hand balled up into a fist. “Fucking say something!” she snapped. 

He wished she would just hit him and get it over with. 

“Told you he’s like a ghost,” Declan said from the door, leaning against the threshold, arms crossed over his chest. 

“Let him fucking rot,” Bryce said and stormed out. Declan followed, shutting the door behind him. 

Ruhn picked the joint back up, shut his eyes, and pretended that you were lying beside him still. 

Ruhn stood outside of the bookstore you worked at. He had no reason to be there. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever picked up a book. But you were inside, and he needed to see you just once. Needed to know that you were okay. Or, at least, as okay as you could be. Besides, it was almost the end of your shift, and someone should make sure you got home safe. 

He hadn’t been around the store much before. Only really knew where it was because he picked you up there once before taking you to dinner with Bryce and Hunt. A double date, Bryce had insisted on it. She wanted to know what poor sucker had him so smitten. When Ruhn saw how well you meshed in with his life, it made him want to run for the hills and it made him want to ask you to marry him on the spot. You made his head spin. Ruhn was never sure how to make heads or tails of anything when you were involved. 

And then you were coming around more often. You met Declan and Flynn. You went to their parties, outdrank all of them with ridiculous ease. It felt like you were always meant to be there. Like there was a hole in his life that he hadn’t realized existed until you were making him feel whole again. 

Maybe that was what scared him. Ruhn wasn’t used to this kind of unfiltered, pure love. He never had a real relationship before. Any he had before were for the sole purpose of pissing his father off. He never cared about them, not really. But you? You made him feel the warm fuzzies the people in those shitty romance novels feel. When a person is unused to that sort of thing, it’s easy to feel ill about it. It was even easier to ruin it all before he got hurt. 

He watched you through the window, chatting with a customer. You’ve been talking to them a while, actually. They’re a shifter he’s seen around before. Ruhn doesn’t know much, but he doesn’t like the way they’re leaning in across the counter, laughing at everything you say. What do they know about your jokes? They probably don’t even understand the jokes. What a fucking poser. 

But then you’re touching their arm as you walk around the counter. They’re helping you with closing the store. Their hand is on the small of your back as you twist the key in the lock. Ruhn felt sick as you climbed in their car and sped down the road.

He vomited in a nearby trash can. He wiped the back of his hand against his mouth and stumbled to the White Raven. Ordered shot after shot after shot, trying to burn that image out of his mind. 

The bartender had to call Declan and Flynn to get him out. 

It was months before Ruhn was able to not drink himself half to death—which, for a fae, is an alarming amount of alcohol. He should count himself lucky that fae have higher healing abilities, or else his poor liver would be wrecked beyond repair. Hel, he would probably still be at home if it weren’t for everyone giving him shit for it. Let him rot, they said, but when he tried, it was suddenly a fucking problem.�� It was well-meaning, he thinks, but still. It’s the principal of the thing. 

Still, he frequented the White Raven somehow more than he ever did before. Sometimes he would catch glimpses of you with that stupid shifter. Sometimes he would drink just enough that he could delude himself into thinking you were sitting beside him, tracing your fingernail along the swirls of his tattoos, head leaned against his shoulder. One of his friends would drag him away before he could fall too deep into the fantasy. 

None of them were here tonight, though. So there was no one to stop him from ordering more shots than he should as he watched you dance with that damned shifter. 

Ruhn would never wish you unhappiness, but…Was it a bad thing to wish that you didn’t move on so fast? An uncomfortable feeling settled in his gut. What right did he have to be upset? The only reason you were with that shifter was because he fucked everything up. If Ruhn had just kept his godsdamned mouth shut, it could have been him you were dancing with right now. But no, he just had to shove his whole foot into his mouth. 

The song ended and faded into another. You pulled away from the shifter, heading in the direction of the restrooms. The shifter slid up to the bar, eying Ruhn, before directing his attention to the bartender and ordered a couple drinks. What an idiot. They couldn’t even order your favorite drink. What did you see in them? 

He had no right to think little of the shifter, though. He gave that up. And yet, he couldn’t stop himself from grabbing their attention. “Be good to her,” Ruhn said, nodding in the direction you had gone. 

The shifter raised a brow. “You a friend or something?”

“Or something,” Ruhn said. “She has a good heart. Don’t break it.”

They shrugged, taking a long sip of their drink. “Eh, don’t see it getting far enough to break hearts.”

Ruhn’s heart stopped. No. It wasn’t cool when he did it—this asshole was not allowed to do the same thing to you. “Excuse me?”

“It’s nothing serious, you know? Just testing the waters.”

Ruhn’s fist swung before he could stop it. The crack of the shifter’s jaw was satisfying enough that he landed a few more punches in before they started fighting back. Ruhn was knocked into the bar, but he didn’t let that stop him. He charged at the shifter, knocked him to the ground. He blacked out from the rage—only became aware when a couple bouncers pulled him off the shifter and dragged him a few feet away. 

He shook them off. “Yeah, yeah. I’m going,” he growled. 

The bouncers followed him as he pushed through the crowd that formed. But he couldn’t stop himself from stomping the heel of his boot on the shifter’s nose as he passed. The bouncers yanked him away again.

“Oops, didn’t see him there.”

As the bouncers dragged him out, he caught a familiar eye in the crowd. You stared at him, eyes wide and jaw open, horrified at the display of violence before you. The bouncers dragged him straight passed you, and he could very nearly hear what you were going to say. An admonishment for fighting in public, a good tongue lashing for fighting your…whatever that shifter was. 

But he beat you to the punch. “You deserve better than that lowlife,” he said. 

You couldn’t let him have the final word. 

“What, like you know what’s good for me?”

And somehow that hurt more than any hit that piece of shit shifter could land on him. 

[sourbinnie]

title -> tu me dejaste de querer genre -> angst with a happy ending pair -> felix x gn!reader plot -> a messy breakup never led felix to lose hope over you or your relationship. warnings -> mentioned panic attack + cursing words -> 2180 lowercase intended

yo me creía que era el más cabrón

pero me estoy notando el corazón

estás apretando mucho, mami, déjalo

si quieres te doy la razón

yo lo único que quiero es largarme de aquí

me da igual dónde puedas elegir

algún día, dentro de poco me vo' a arrepentir

de haberte confesa'o lo que me hace sufrir

❥ ✉

i wasn't used to settling down before i met them. i liked the free life, the no strings attached kinda vibe and i thought having  a relationship would cut off the way i was handling things but you proved me wrong. when you asked me out, doubt consumed me but i gave in because those eyes are to die for. too bad now we're a thousand miles apart and i still see those eyes everywhere, that look you gave me when i complimented you, priceless and wouldn't see it anywhere else in the world. at the end of the day the eyes never lie and neither do i when asking you if long distance would work.

i know you didn't want this (y/n), neither did i. you had to go back to your home country and i had to stay in korea, following my career like it was the only thing that mattered, like i didn't let the love of my life go. i was hoping we could meet again in the future but the more i look at the chances, the blurrier they get and i don't think it's possible for me to even get a ticket to see you. 

"hey (y/n), it's felix again. please answer me whenever you get the chance." i said to my voicemail. not gonna lie the only reason i do this is because i get to hear your voice before it cuts off to leave a message. it's getting lonely here and i just want you back. even if it's just a videocall.

i was on tour right now, looking at the window in a foreign country while all my bandmates were out. i couldn't feel more empty than i did right now and i knew you wanted to come this time. you wanted to be there for me through every show, every city, everything and we had to split apart before that happened. you really wanted to meet my bandmates and i did not let you, why didn't i? you were the light of my life. no one made me happy like you did and i was told that i had a different kind of glow the days that i spent with you. 

you said i was too much while i said you were giving too little, you weren't letting me see what you truly felt. maybe i pressured you too much into it, maybe i just didn't know how to let go of the overwhelming emotion that it is loving you. it consumes my whole body the way that i just need you right now. physically, emotionally, verbally, anything i would do to get this feeling to stop as the hurricane consumed me. the worst part would be the fact that nobody knows that i'm feeling this way, i have to keep it all to myself and pretend that i never had a significant other in the first place.

that was really bad on my part wasn't it? keeping you a fucking secret and for what? you were the best thing that happened to me. i know a few years ago i would've said the band but right now i felt like i lost absolutely everything. the pain was unbearable, i haven't felt heartbreak since high school and this certainly felt worse than anything. it was like they had my heart in their hands and they were squeezing it, holding on to me, to a part that i thought i would never show anyone. i also knew that i was gonna regret leaving voicemails like a loser, hoping for them to come back to me like nothing happened in the middle.

i remember all too clearly what i said, what we went through and just how much we hurt each other. in this moment i did not care though, i felt like i was gonna have a panic attack all alone in my room. i felt like i  was suffocating and yet no tears were streaming down my face. i could not show any more pain because there was nothing else to show, the misery that i felt i was stuck in was too much. felt like i wasted all my tears, feeling like i can't do anything anymore to fix this was scary and there's nothing more scary than the unknown. what would the future hold for us? 90% of me is saying nothing but there's that 10% that keeps me holding on to a wave of feelings. that 10% insists that i call them again, again & again until they pick up.

so i did it one more time.

and they picked up.

❥ ✉

de punta en blanco para tu fiesta

he pasa'o tre' día' con la misma ropa puesta

loco por ti, perdiendo apuesta'

dime en quién piensa' cuando te acuestas

porque yo pienso en ti (son ilusione')

yo pienso en ti (son ilusione')

porque yo pienso en ti (son ilusione')

yo pienso en ti, son ilusione'

going out on the old familiar streets didn't feel like home anymore. even if i tried going from party to party, doing the most insane things to create a distraction in my mind and hoping that in the morning i don't regret anything, was nothing like i used to be. i was closed off, emotionally and physically, never the biggest fan of pda or affection in the form of words either. but then felix happened and i changed that, i suddenly wanted too much from him, wanting to be in his arms all the time. i got so scared of that feeling, of overwhelming him with my love that i decided to do the opposite. so no more kissing, hugs, cuddles, etc. and i thought i was doing the right thing by not being an overbearing significant other. 

god thinking about the reason why we broke up made me so mad. we both crossed limits we shouldn't have and yet now we were so far away from each other that when i arrived home, like i said before it just didn't feel right. i had to get used to not having him around, to his scent not being in the house, to the smell of his baking, to the clothes scattered around our bedroom, to the early morning kisses and to the late goodnight ones. it's not like i would have that right now when he's on tour. that's how i remembered once again that i was supposed to keep him company during this one and that made me so upset, i almost started crying again. 

he's in a completely different timezone than i am, he's having the best time of his life with his friends and i'm thinking that maybe all i did was so stupid. i put so much on the line when i told him that i was gonna break up with him and leave. i also said it in a moment of pure anger and hoping he would calm down (he didn't). that was the last time i saw him, i hoped that he was feeling better now.

even if i didn't feel like things ended right between us, i would never wish on his downfall. he did everything he could with the little time that he had to spend it with me. he told me his bandmates were watching him and suspecting things but that only got me excited to finally meet them. too bad i couldn't ever do that, show that i was worth of felix's love and let them know that he was receiving all of mine.

checking on my phone, i noticed all the missed calls and one coming in. as tired as i was and as unhappy as i felt, i needed one last chance to speak to him even if it was too late. i pressed the green button and put the phone up to my ear, hoping to hear his voice again after so long.

"(y/n), hi..." he said and god did i miss him. his deep voice told me that it was still pretty early for him while it was night time for me. "i hope you don't hang up." he said and i just shook my head even if he couldn't see it.

"lix, no i won't." i said firmly as i felt the tears build up. it was such an overwhelming feeling talking to him again. i did not even know where to start.

"i miss you. i'm sorry that i start the conversation like this but it's just what i've been feeling." knowing that he was missing me too as he said it, didn't make sense to me. i was hoping for him to be moving on and feeling better but i guess that it also explains why he's calling right now. "you always told me to say what i was feeling so here i am, i know there's a bigger chance for me to lose this battle but i miss you so fucking much."

"i miss you too." i said honestly and i could hear him take a deep breath and let go. he was always nervous when it came to these types of conversations. i laid down on my mattress as i still heard him breathing and processing what i just said, thinking of the right words to follow up with.

"we're so far apart right now that i see you in every city and not gonna lie, it hurts." he said laughing as i heard him sniff. that's what made my tears finally fall, hearing him so broken and on the verge of tears was gonna be the death of me. "god why did we do that? we weren't perfect but at least we tried to be. it's like i gave up the best part of me and now it seems impossible for us to come back. all of my friends feel that i'm different, hell even my family thinks i'm acting odd and yet i can't even explain what happened because i'm not sure myself." 

"people have been asking me what happened with me, the old me. i'm not sure what to say myself either and i don't think i can explain our whole relationship. even if it was short, i feel like i could write a whole story about it." i said through the pain and the tears. what i said was true, my family noticed my odd behavior but i didn't bother telling them what i truly felt and what happened in reality. i just put on a fake smile and lied through my teeth. "i feel so empty without you lix. feels like there's a hole in my heart that i'm never gonna be able to cover."

it got quiet suddenly and his words were still going through my head as i tried to understand him like he tried to understand me before. 

"can we at least try again? even if it's long distance. i know it's insane for me to ask this, i know it won't be the same and that you might not come back to korea but i wanna be able to at least call you mine." he said firmly like he didn't sound totally broken like me. 

"i don't know lix. i got so attached to you that it scares me and i really wanna say yes. but do you think this truly would work? 'cause i feel so weird even thinking about having a long distance relationship." i said honestly and hoping he would understand. "it's like the more i think about it, the less chances i see of it working out."

"i feel the same way unfortunately but i can't give up on us." it's like those words easily touched my heart when he said them. he wasn't always the best at expressing his feelings but tonight he was showing how he had grown and how much he cared about us, about me. "please let's try again and if it doesn't work out, i'll let you go."

i thought about it. thought about the unconditional love i had for him, thought about his eyes when we first met and how they eventually looked at me the most loving way possible. how he seemed to trust me with his feelings and i eventually learned that i didn't trust anyone else with mine. i thought about our late night talks, our secret dates, our baking together and finally i thought about the fights, the hiding around and the heartless things we could say. the break up was the last thing on my mind, packing my things and going nowhere 'cause that's what i felt i was doing at that moment. if i was going somewhere it would always be with him by my side.

"one more chance, please don't make me regret it." i said. i didn't have anything to lose at the end of the day.

"i won't." he simply said.

this could either be the best decision of my life or the wrong path taken.

"i love you (y/n)." he then said as he switched to video call and i looked at his face again, remembering every feature and reminding me how much i loved him. i was really hoping and praying this would be the right decision but as we looked at each other, i couldn't even think there was a wrong one.

[1moreoffkeyanthem]

feeling tender in this chilis will you tell us what ur styles find most attractive or love the most about each other or even what they find the most endearing, my dear? <3

My darlingest, Absofuckinglutely!!!

Dude I have a million AU’s, but all across the board? Stan and Kyle are SO RIDICULOUSLY IN LOVE!!! Even before they knew it, they were. I’ll always deliver the Tenderness. And u know my styles are pretty consistent across every universe, so these STAY true:

Starting with what Stan loves about Kyle emotionally? His PASSION!!! Kyle cares SO MUCH about EVERYTHING. And everyone. He sometimes gets carried away, and Stan will be silently smiling while trying to cool the fire down, because he adores it but like damn Ky you don’t need to get this worked up over the gas station clerk’s struggle with his kid? It’s so cute to him tho.

Similarly, my Kyles are some of the most empathetic people you ever did see. He just senses things about people and his first impressions? They’re usually right. If Kyle gets a Bad Vibe from someone, that’s a good sign to steer clear. When Stan isn’t sure what to think of a new person, Kyle is, and tells him with no hesitation. He’s so instinctual in general and can diffuse a bad situation at the drop of a hat. If he doesn’t get too riled up lmao. He just KNOWS. And he’s so trustworthy too, like you need someone for something? Kyle. He’s very self aware for the most part and stays on top of what’s going on mentally, but when he lets loose? Stan is just gazing in wonder at his firecracker of a sbf in absolute love.

On Kyle’s side of things: dude Stan is the sweetest human being on the face of the planet. Where Kyle is a fighter, Stan is a LOVER. He is so vocal about the things and people he loves, and he’s really protective of them! (Where Ky is a Defender, Stan is a Protector) Stanley Marsh my sweet loverboy and he tries SO hard to perform these sweeping romantic gestures and it’s even more endearing when he fails (unfortunately he is indeed kind of a loser) but is so cute oh my goddddd like ok king try to serenade your bf and slip on the ice and smile that soft smile when he helps you up.

When he takes a stand on something he is FULLY into it. Another thing u know about my Stans is that he’s ALWAYS vegetarian and that will never change bc he LOVES animals. And if he randomly brings home a stray cat (hi Moose) Kyle cannot say no because dammit Stan is already so attached and he looks so cute making those Eyes at you and his love of all creatures great and small is so precious!!! And Kyle, who thrives on passion, really really likes to see Stan get so stoked about that kind of thing. Stan is also such a dork and he WILL infodump about fob’s discography or lotr it’s so cute!

On that previous note, Kyle likes validation. His love language is words of affirmation. And Stan gets stoked about Kyle, and he will not hesitate to express it!

So, physically, ohhhhh boy I may need to chill with the hcs because I absolutely have too many. Starting on that with Stanley Down Bad Marsh and his adoration of Kyle:

Stan 100% absolutely has a thing for Kyle’s hair. Kyle hates his hair for a lot of the time growing up but Stan LOVES IT!!! Out here mega down horrendous and going “kyyyyy take your hat off I’m sad” and Kyle folds bc when Stan’s feelin down he is so comforted by a mass of red curls and he has indeed cried one of the times Ky cut it short (this may or may not be the reason ojv Kyle has shoulder length hair)

While I do have some Tall Kyles out there, most of them are on the shorter side, and all my Stans are Big Boys. And Stan very much enjoys the size difference. He LOVES picking Kyle up, feeling like a knight in shining armor (my Stans are PROTECTORS FR) and just holding him oh my god he gets so excited when Kyle actually LETS him! (Oh wow what a surprise I’m turning this into OJV hc hour) so OrangeJuiceVerse Kyle is 5’7 and like maybe 130 soaking wet, Stan loves to just snag him lmao Ky may get insecure abt his size sometimes but Stan’s gonna love it he genuinely thinks it’s so cute

His FRECKLES! Bruh every Kyle I’ve written has beautiful faint freckles EVERYWHERE and Stan will be connecting them like constellations. Most of his features are sharp and pointed and like something out of an elven fantasy and then there’s the freckles and hair that juxtaposition omg stan is enthralled.

Kyle is JUST as enthralled with Stan! He is a classically HANDSOME dude like this guy looks like a disney prince and his eyes are the prettiest shade of deep blue you’ve ever seen! Kyle may not get distracted as easily as his counterpart, but he’s staring into those eyes and spacing out. And oh my god directly to jail for Kyle bc when Stan’s got his arms out, it is SO over for him!!! Like ok ATLCTS headcanon one time smokejumper Stan and fae prince Kyle were at the Stenny Apartment once Ky figured out how to pass as human and Stan took his hoodie off and he was wearing a tank top underneath and that sweet vegan firefighting king is built! And Kyle sees the burn scars and is reminded of how much Stan cares about the forests and yep that was the first time they did ~activities~ smh but same, wood nymph Ky, I have a crush on ATLCTS Stan as well

It’s worth noting that most of my Kyles are somewhere on the ace spectrum too. But Stan Marsh exists, is built for hugs, and is the hottest guy in the universe to him.

Thank you so much for the ask my love I love to talk about the boys and how much they are simping <3

[cakepoppresent]

It's Not What You Think It Is!!

An anonymous tipster with a heart full of secrets and possibly a score to settle managed to capture this scandalous rendezvous

Malcolm was caught red-handed having a romantic dinner with the captivating Veronica, despite being attached at the hip to Benji

What could this mean?

You Know You Love Me XOXO

-Gossip Girl

Malcolm and Veroinca have seen the latest post on Gossip Girl. Malcolm can't help but freak out

Maclolm: This is the worst! Benji is going to freak out if he sees this. What am I going to do??

Veroinca: Talk to him, he knows the post is nonsense anyway

Malcolm: God this is the fucking worst!! Who even took the picture and sent it to that hell site?

Veroinca: I have an idea of who might have done that. Let's just head back to the dorm so you can talk to Benji

Malcolm: NO! I need to mentally prepare

Veronica: You're going to talk to your fiancee, not going off to war. Don't worry Benji isn't dumb he knows it's just nonsense

Malcolm: Still, after the summer we spent in Osais Spring he's been very clingy and possessive. It's like he thinks I'm just going to leave him

Veronica: Fine! if you are that worried, I'll talk to him before he talks to you. That way he won't be that upset

Malcolm: Thanks! I knew I could count on you! Love you so much

Veronica: Mhmm I'm sure you do

Back at the dorm Veronica finds Benji heading to his room

Benji: Hey V, you and Malcolm looked real good in that Gossip Girl post. Truly Brichestors finest couple

Veronica: Don't be petty, we both know that post is garbage. Malcolm is really worried about it. Don't be a dick

Benji: Sorry for not liking people thinking Maclom is a cheater and I'm being screwed over by my closest friends

Veronica: Keep that energy to yourself. I know who sent it the post and I'll be dealing with her. Malcolm is really worried, he thinks you're mad at him.

Benji: I could never be mad at Maclolm for something like that. I know it's not his fault, I just don't want him on that garbage site

Veronica: Don't tell me that tell Malcolm. He is waiting for you in your dorm room

Malcolm: Benji! I love you so much, don't mind that GG post. I swear nothing is happening between me and Veroinca I swear!

Benji takes a deep breath and pinches his nose in exasperation "Of course I know there is nothing between you and Veronica, I'm not an idiot"

Malcolm: You're not mad!? Great that's great I was so worried. I didn't want you to be mad at me

Benji: Babe I could never be mad at you...but I am a little bit upset

Malcolm: Upset about what?

Benji: Too many people are going to know who you are and what you look like, I don't like that at all

Malcolm: Im a Villareal, people are going to know who I am

Benji: Maybe I should just keep you locked up in a nice highrise where no one can reach you

Malcolm: Don't be dumb

Benji: Don't worry I'm just joking (is he tho?)

"You're so weird sometimes, I'm not going anywhere you loser" Benji walks closer to Malcolm and embraces him in a tight hug, places his face at the crook of Malcolm's neck and takes a deep breath "I know Malcolm...I know"

Benji: I think I deserve some compensation for my emotional distress. Malcolm: Seriously? Benji: Of course, I am emotionally distraught right now"

Picking Malcolm up from the floor Benji leads them toward the bed.

Benji: No classes tomorrow morning right? Malcolm: Right. Benji: Great

Previous - Next

[doeeyyeed]

shadow work prompts that have left me crying (i felt good after though)

My responses:

- letter to a parent (hurts so good when you have mommy/daddy issues)

Dear mom, I thank you for having me even though it was a scary decision to make at the age of eighteen. I know you said that grandma was never around and when she was, she was high and abusive. I feel sad for your younger self, who struggled and felt so much pain. I wish I could've met who you were before I came. I see how this affected your parenting style, so I have grace and compassion. However, I'm struggling in my adulthood with behavioral patterns and nervous system regulation. I've developed social anxiety and struggle to feel safe and secure in romantic partnerships. I want to have grace and compassion for this part of me. Most importantly I want to heal from it and become a version of myself who can have a great love for myself and others. I see how my perfectionism comes from my childhood. I realize I've only received love and praise from you when I accomplished something that made you proud. But all the times I disappointed you, I was deeply criticized and I see how this has affected my self-esteem. I find myself fantasizing a lot about how things would've turned out differently if you weren't a young single mother. Maybe I wouldn't have been an obese adolescent and I wouldn't struggle with body dysmorphia today. What I learned recently from the shadow work I've been doing is that I am worthy and abundant without having to be perfect. This realization is something I have to constantly bring myself back to, remember, and embody it. I am grateful for the way I grew up because of the wisdom it bestowed upon me, however, wisdom is only practical if there is a level of integrity to go along with it. You raised me with the values of being an honest hardworking person and for that I am grateful. I see how I implement these practices into my daily life, now I just wish to feel relaxed and less anxious when I perform activities with the intent of these values you've taught me. I still feel like I'm hustling to make the fact that you had me feel worth it to you.

- letter to your younger self (bonus points for pre transition self if that applies to you)

Dear younger Alexandrea, there are 8 billion people in the world. Why do you expect that everyone will like you? Let go of your people-pleasing tendencies. You are so creative and full of imagination. It's okay to not have a buddy to follow through with your passions. I want you to stick with music and beg Mom to get you singing lessons. You are naturally gifted with movement. Don't waste your time with the mean girls in organized sports. You thrive in dance. I'm sorry you didn't have these opportunities that played to your strengths. I'm sorry you went to a school where people cared more about egos than learning. Education is the key to life. Study hard because it will pay off. Stop chasing people, and trying to be cool. You got mixed up in the wrong crowd, going to parties in middle school where you've been taken advantage of by loser dudes. I'm deeply sorry this happened to you. you didnt know any better at the time. I wish your parents made home feel safer for you, so you didn't always want to run off, smoke weed, and hang out with anyone who was willing. I wish you knew your worth. I'm sorry that home didn't support your emotional needs. Learn how to validate yourself and regulate your own emotions. You didn't deserve emotionally immature parents who took their emotional baggage out on you. But I bet things wouldn't have felt so scary if you knew that everything turned out to be okay.

- letter to your childhood pet/pets

Dear Benjamin Franklin, you were my first pet dog. You were only a puppy when you died. I had only got to love you for three months before that fatal day. Your death has impacted the relationship I have with dogs today. Dogs aren't something I allow myself to feel emotionally attached to. I keep my emotional distance and view them as "just a dog." This saddens me that I'm not allowed to feel a spiritual connection with dogs like I once did with you. I started seeing dogs as sad creatures who are helpless and at the mercy of their owners. They want so much attention, quality time, and love that it makes me feel uneasy and guilty that I'm unable to provide that for them. I just ignore them and carry on with my day. I wish when I saw a dog it made me happy like how you once made me.

- letter to your childhood best friend

Dear Wendy, you're the only childhood friend of mine that I still hold so close and dear to my heart. However, it saddens me to think that this feeling isn't mutual. I see you show so much love for others that we grew up with. This makes me feel like I'm just a suppressed memory to you. I wish I knew why you keep me at a distance today. I'm sorry I sucked, that I got distracted with boys, that my behavior tended to be uncomfortable for you, costing me to lose my wholesome friendship with you. This has to be one of my biggest regrets. In my eyes, you are the most amazing person I have ever met. It hurts me that we aren't close anymore.

- listing out your insecurities and then complimenting said insecurities

I am extremely insecure about my small asymmetrical breast. I am grateful that my breasts are healthy. I am insecure about how far my nose sticks out from my face, however, I am grateful to think about how people pay to have a bridge like my nose. I am insecure about how much fat I store in my lower body like in my thighs and waist. I am grateful I have a lot of muscle and am toned still in those areas. I am insecure about my thin lips making my face feel less pleasing to the eye, but I am grateful for my beautiful smile. I am insecure about my thin hair, but I am grateful I have a lot of it and that it is always so soft and shiny.

- listing everything you’re grateful for,, even if it’s just a few things

I am grateful for the abundance that fills all areas of my life. I am grateful for my heart, body, mind, and soul. I am grateful for the gentle reminders of how I am connected to the universe. I am grateful that I am the master of my thoughts and I choose my perceived reality. I am grateful to love and be loved.

- letter to your ancestors or just all ancestors in general (i like doing it for all ancestors that way no one feels left out)

Dear ancestors, I year to know you. A huge desire of mine is to learn about my ancestry. I want to know where my physical features and genes originated. I want to know you and build a relationship with that knowledge by adjusting my lifestyle. Like what if y'all had only access to goats instead of cows. I would switch to eating goat yogurt instead of cow's so I can better support my genetic process. something like that.

[wandaromanova]

I Do

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: cussing, mentions of self-neglect, mentions of blood, death

A/N: hello! since so many people wanted a part two to Memories, here it is! the italicized portions are memories/flashbacks! happy reading <3

Memories | I Do

Summary: The aftermath of a breakup proves to be more painful than the initial sting.

Word Count: 5K

| masterlist | request rules/guidelines | wips |

please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work. reblogs, likes, and comments are always welcome. <3

One Month Later

Ever since the night that Wanda broke up with you, you had become a hermit. You never came out of your room unless it was absolutely urgent, but even then, you didn’t really come out either. 

You’d pass up missions that normally, you would’ve loved to be part of. You absolutely loved your job, despite how demanding it could be. But now, you had been out for an entire month.

You didn’t take care of yourself anymore, rarely eating and never bothering to clean your room. There were clothes strewn about your dark bedroom. 

You felt like the condition of the room was a reflection of how you were right now; an absolute train wreck. The clothes that were scattered about, representing the various fragments of your broken heart that had drifted from one another. 

You spent your days in bed, watching horror movies. You couldn’t watch any other genre, especially romantic comedies; they reminded you too much of Wanda. You’d recalled the many nights where you’d be wrapped up in the comfortable sheets of your bed with Wanda in your arms as she teared up over some cheesy movie. 

You really weren’t the romantic type, but you tried your hardest to be that for the Sokovian. That backfired though. However, the one thing that those movies got right was how painful the breakups could be. 

You used to think they were being dramatic, but now that you were in the same position, they weren’t; it was completely accurate to how you’ve been doing since Wanda left you. You became the stereotypical heartbroken loser that had gotten too emotionally attached to your partner. 

You were the main character in the movie that had just gotten dumped and simply moped around, wallowing in your own self-pity and refusing to leave your bed.

It was pathetic, infuriating even. Here you were, absolutely destroyed by the breakup, while Wanda was out and about with her new Samsung Galaxy Note 8.

She was happy and going about her life while you were stuck in an endless loop of memories; the good and the bad. It had only been a month and Wanda had already moved on, but who were you kidding?

She moved on long before you guys called it quits. 

Your teammates would try and coax you out of the confinements of your bedroom, but it rarely worked. The only person who managed to get you to leave your room was Natasha, and you didn’t really have a choice, since she literally dragged you out of bed. 

No, seriously… she grabbed you by the ankles and yanked you out from under the covers; a bruise on your stomach was proof of the incident. 

You just couldn’t face Wanda. You knew if you saw her, you’d experience the same feeling you did the night she broke up with you, and you couldn’t live through that twice. 

So, avoiding Wanda and her shiny new toy seemed like the best option. You’d heard from Steve that they were officially together. 

You were set on staying in your room as much as possible, but Wanda wasn’t too happy about it. 

Truthfully, she really did miss seeing you around. She noticed the lack of you around the Compound and she was worried.

The Sokovian knew that she definitely didn’t have the right to worry about you, not when she was the reason you were upset, but she couldn’t help it. 

She needed to make sure you were holding up well, even if she knew you weren’t. 

So, she finally chose to speak to you, even if she knew that she was the last person you’d want to see; she had to help you. 

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎‎────────────────❅•

Wanda softly knocked on your door. She waited for a response, but didn’t receive one. After a few minutes of standing outside your door awkwardly, she decided enough was enough. 

So, she raised her hand slightly, red tendrils emanating from her fingertips, and opened the door with her powers. 

Your head shot up from under the sheets at the sound of the door swinging open and colliding with the wall. Your eyes widened when you saw Wanda standing there, awkwardly walking into the room and shutting the door behind her. 

“What the fuck are you doing? You can’t just barge into my room when I obviously don’t want you in here!” Your tone was ice cold and Wanda flinched slightly at the harshness. 

“I wanted to check on you. I’ve been worried.” Wanda watched as you got out of bed and moved to stand directly in front of her. 

“You’re worried about me? I thought you couldn’t be bothered to care about a monster like me.”

Wanda frowned as you repeated what she had said that night. She didn’t mean what she said, but there was no taking it back now; didn’t mean she wouldn’t try to though. 

“Of course I’m worried. I never stopped caring about you. I didn’t mean it when I called you a monster. I may love Vision, but I love you too, just not in the way that I used to.” 

You felt a pang in your heart. You already knew this, but hearing her say it out loud didn’t hurt any less. 

“I just want you to be happy again, Y/N. You deserve it and I’m so sorry to have pushed you into this state.”

Her eyes scanned over your messy room. It was dark. The only lighting in the room coming from the moonlight that seeped through the small spaces in the blinds. 

“Unlike you, Wanda, I can’t just stop loving someone. I can’t turn my feelings off like a fucking light switch! That’s not how true feelings work and that’s how I know you never really gave a shit about me.” 

Your eyes were dark and clouded with rage. You couldn’t believe that she had the audacity to barge into your room and check on you when she was the one who hurt you. 

“I really did love you, Y/N. I never lied about that. I may be with Vis now, but that doesn’t mean I care for you any less. You weren’t just my lover, but you were my best friend too.” 

You were breathing heavily at this point. Her words were completely messing with your head, but you wouldn’t let her have that power over you; she didn’t deserve it. 

“Why the fuck would I believe a single word that comes out of your mouth?” 

Wanda stared at you sadly. You looked so fragile and broken and the brunette hated herself for doing this to you. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Because I made a mistake.” 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“So did I.” 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Wanda watched as you walked back to your bed. Her eyebrows furrowed when you reached beneath a pillow, the one she used to use when you used to sleep together. 

Her heart sunk when she caught sight of the same velvet box that you had presented to her on the rooftop. 

You approached Wanda once more and abruptly shoved the box into her hand with a growl. 

“Here, give this to Vision. It’ll be of more use to him than it ever was to me.” 

Wanda let a tear fall as you reached behind her and opened the door, almost knocking her onto her feet as the door collided with her back. 

“Get the fuck out and go pretend to care about someone else.” You gripped Wanda by the shoulders and lightly pushed her out of the room and into the hallway, slamming the door right in her face. 

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎────────────────❅•

11 Months Later

It’s been a year since the breakup and you were doing a lot better compared to a few months ago. 

You finally got out of the dark cloud that you had been consumed by. You cleaned your room and actually made your way around the Compound, going on with your life like you used to be.

You’d have a quick breakfast, train with Natasha, shower, work on mission reports, eat dinner, and sleep. It was the same routine as before. 

The only difference was that Wanda wasn’t yours anymore and that fact never got any easier to stomach. 

You were able to stand being in a room with her again, but you still wanted to swallow a piping hot iron every time you saw her with Vision. They didn’t care about your feelings in the slightest. They were always in their own little world whenever they were together and it was irritating, to say the least. 

You’d walk into the kitchen and catch sight of the pair cooking together, Vision’s arms holding the Sokovian against his body, and you couldn’t help but be thrown headfirst into one of your favorite memories with Wanda. 

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎────────────────❅•

“Y/N don’t use that! That’s baking soda, not cornstarch!” Wanda exclaimed, using her magic to stop your hand that was about to pour the wrong ingredient into the mixing bowl. 

You blushed profusely, embarrassed of your mistake. Wanda knew you weren’t good in the kitchen, so she took the liberty of trying to teach you how to cook. 

“Sorry, Wands. I don’t really know the difference. Aren’t they the same thing?” 

Wanda dried her hands off, having just finished washing a few dishes that you both would need, and walked over to where you stood, wrapping her arms around your waist. 

“It’s okay, dorogoy (darling). I’m here to help you. So, baking soda and cornstarch are definitely not the same. They serve completely different purposes.” 

You nodded your head at her words, putting the baking soda down on the counter as Wanda handed you the correct ingredient from the cabinet above you. 

“So, baking soda is used in baking, hence the name. It helps things like cake, cookies, and muffins rise. Whereas, cornstarch, thickens liquids like soup and sauce; which is what we are trying to do.” 

You let out a small ‘oh’ and Wanda giggled, shoving her face into the crook of your neck. 

Wanda placed a soft kiss onto your skin as you poured the correct ingredient into the mix, stirring everything together. 

“Your lack of cooking knowledge baffles me.” You rolled your eyes at your girlfriend’s words as the vibration of her laughs hit your neck. 

Even though your facial expressions screamed offense, your wide smile said otherwise. 

“Well, it’s a good thing I have a girlfriend who’s a boss in the kitchen to help me out. Gordon Ramsay has got nothing on you, baby.” 

Wanda pulled away from your neck and laughed loudly as you joined in. Everything about the woman that held you was contagious. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Her laugh was your favorite sound. 

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎────────────────❅•

You couldn’t help but notice that Wanda had been doing things with Vision that she used to do with you. It gave you a sense of deja vu each time you’d see the new couple together. 

She’d sit beside him during dinner, holding onto his hand under the table as she ate her meal. 

Honestly, why the fuck was he even at the table? It’s not like the walking Swiffer could eat anything. He’s just taking up space! 

You knew it was wrong, but you wanted to pour some water onto the Motorola ‘accidentally’ just to see if he’d short-circuit or something. 

You were bitter and you felt it was completely justified. A fucking razor scooter stole your girlfriend! It was a huge blow to your ego. 

Wanda would sit on the couch, cuddled into Vision’s side, as one of her favorite sitcoms would play on the television. 

You’d hear Wanda’s laughs and silence from the synthezoid. It’s not like he had a sense of humor anyway. He was so serious and dense all the time. Although it wasn’t his fault, you still laughed at him for it anyway. 

But the thing that hurt the most was when she’d take him up to the roof; a place that used to mean the world to you. 

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎────────────────❅•

“So, why are we up here right now and laying on the concrete like a bunch of weirdos?” 

Wanda asked as she tilted her head towards you, staring at your side profile as you gazed up at the night sky. 

“Shh, you talk too much. Just look up and be quiet.” You didn’t face Wanda, too entranced by the twinkling lights above. 

Wanda sighed and did as you said. She’d never really noticed how beautiful the night sky was; never having the time or leisure time to stargaze.

“Being an Avenger is a stressful job, as you know. So, one night after a particularly hard mission that drained the entire team, myself included, I decided to come up here.” 

Wanda listened to you speak, turning her head to look at you once more. Her eyes softened when she saw the happy glint in your eyes. 

“I just laid here and looked up at the stars. There’s something so calming about it. Stars just get to stay up there shining. There’s no stress, no responsibilities. They’re just glowing balls of fire, and the best part about this place is that no one else comes up here, so there are no interruptions.”

You smiled and Wanda couldn’t help but smile with you. You finally placed your attention on the Sokovian beauty beside you. 

You couldn’t help but marvel at how stunning her eyes were under the pale moonlight. 

“This rooftop is my safety net. When life gets too much, I come up here and just stare at the sky. For a few hours, I’m just an average person, stargazing and listening to the sound of the city below.” 

Wanda finally understood your point. It really was peaceful up here. If this place was important to you, then it was to her too. 

“I brought you up here because I don’t want it to be my safe place anymore.” 

Wanda’s eyebrows scrunched up confusion at your words. You let out a chuckle, reaching a hand out to caress her cheek lovingly. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I want it to be our safe place.” 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Wanda’s mouth opened into an ‘o’ shape as the realization dawned on her. Her heart melted at the realization that you wanted to share something so significant with her.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I’d love that.” 

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎────────────────❅•

You had to admit that the pain had gone from heart-stopping to bearable over the span of the year. 

Every day, it got slightly easier to walk around the Compound, but of course, the pain would always linger. 

You wished that you could move on as easily as Wanda had. It was as if she had forgotten everything you two had been through; as if there was no history, no love that had ever existed. 

But, you tried not to dwell on it as much. You just avoided Wanda as best you could, but you knew that would be impossible. 

Not only did you live in the same building as her, but you were also coworkers. So, being assigned to a mission was inevitable. 

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎────────────────❅•

“Steve, what’s this about?” 

You asked as you walked into the meeting room. It was only Steve and Wanda present, so your curiosity was definitely peaked. 

“I’m assigning you and Wanda onto a mission. It’s a simple extraction mission. Go in, get the intel, get out.” 

You sat at the table, a few chairs down from your ex-girlfriend, and she didn’t look too happy with the super-soldier’s words. 

“If it’s a simple mission, why do I have to go on it? Can’t Y/N just go alone?” 

You turned your head to stare at Wanda. Your eyes were wide in disbelief.

“What’s the problem, Witchy? Can’t be professional and stay away from your blender for a few hours?” 

Wanda’s eyes turned red as she abruptly stood up, pushing her chair back with a screech. 

“Oh, you’re one to talk about being professional. I’m not the one that locked themselves in their room and ignored their duties for months.” 

You stood up too, getting in the Sokovian’s face. You were both taking shallow breaths as you glared into each other’s eyes. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“That’s enough!” 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Steve slammed his fist onto the table, effectively making you and Wanda move back from one another, still scowling at one another. 

“It’s fine, Rogers. I’ll do the mission myself. It’s not like I need her anyway.” 

You snatched the mission file off of the table and sped out of the room, leaving behind a fuming Wanda and a disappointed Steve. 

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎────────────────❅•

A few hours later 

You were currently in the heart of the Hydra base you were supposed to infiltrate. The files you were to retrieve were somewhere in this room, but unfortunately for you, Hydra was smart. 

They didn’t organize the files alphabetically, but in some sort of order of their own that you couldn’t seem to decipher. 

The bad feeling in your gut grew as each minute passed. 

You were shuffling through all of the file cabinets trying to find the correct one you needed. Finally, you found what you were looking for; Experimentation. 

Hydra had been conducting Human Experimentation on civilians again and the team needed to put an end to their operation, but you’d need information on what exactly they were doing. Now, you had it. 

It was time to get the hell out of there before you were spotted. You silently slipped out of the room, checking each side of the hallway before making your way out of the building. 

You had made it out into the open undetected, but you realized you were shit out of luck when you heard a Hydra agent scream. 

“Intruder! Attack, now!” 

You acted quickly and hid behind a rock as a few agents opened fire. You hurriedly shoved the file into your pants and grabbed your phone, dialing Steve.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Y/N? How did the mission go? Are you on your way back?” 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I’ve been spotted. I need backup, now!” 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You didn’t have time to hold a conversation, not when you were literally being shot at. So, you got straight to the point and quickly hung up on Steve. 

You needed to get to the Quinjet which was a few feet away. Since you were in the middle of a forest, there were other large rocks that could be used as cover, but you’d have to risk getting shot each time. 

You shook your shoulders to release your nerves before charging to the nearest rock. You were fast, but not fast enough. 

You were shot in the shoulder and abdomen, practically collapsing behind the rock you had been aiming to get to. 

You let out a groan at the sting of your wounds, blood seeping out of each hole. It wasn’t anywhere serious, you’d survive if you get to the Quinjet and got the hell out of there. 

You grabbed the gun that had been strapped to your thigh and began to shoot back at the agents. You managed to hit quite a few of them, but they had automatic guns and you had a simple handgun.

You might as well have brought a tiny pocket knife to this battle.

Another bullet hit you, right in the collarbone and you pulled away and back into cover with a scream. You really weren’t doing too great. There was so much blood and you were beginning to feel a bit lightheaded. 

If the team didn’t get here soon, you weren’t going to make it, and that terrified you. 

You were so fucking close to the Quinjet. If you were to book it and run like hell, you could possibly make it to safety and get away; what other option did you have at this point? So, you braced yourself, clutching onto as many of your wounds as you could. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Well… here goes nothing. 

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎────────────────❅•

Meanwhile… 

The tension in the Quinjet could be cut with a knife. Everyone was worried and anxious to get to your location; to save you. 

Steve had informed the team about your situation, he explained that you had been discovered and he went into detail about the sounds he had heard in the background of the call; gunshots, lots and lots of gunshots. 

Everyone quickly gathered their gear and got into their suits, the entire team in the air in less than ten minutes. 

Wanda was in shock. You were extremely skilled and were trained to be stealthy, so how the hell did you get spotted? How could you be so stupid?

The Sokovian was trapped in her thoughts the entire journey to the Hydra base. Her leg was bouncing rapidly as anxiety took over. 

“She’ll be fine. Y/N is the toughest person I know.” Clint placed a hand on her knee, causing her green eyes to dart over to him. 

Wanda didn’t even know what to say to that. He was right, you were tough, strong, and resourceful. You were loads smarter than she was.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You had to be fine because she wouldn’t know what to do if you weren’t. 

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎────────────────❅•

Natasha’s heart stopped as she landed the jet. She caught a glimpse of you and her heart absolutely broke as she tried to keep a hold of her emotions. 

The rest of the team had been at the exit of the jet, waiting for the jet to completely land before making their way out. 

As soon as the plane touched the ground, Natasha opened the door and Wanda rushed out of the jet. Her eyes took in the sight in front of her. There were bullets all over the ground, so many fucking bullets. The place seemed absolutely deserted, as if the people who had been in the building quickly evacuated once you were spotted. 

The only thing Wanda could see was the Quinjet that you had arrived to the site in. Her heart dropped when she finally saw you; right in front of the jet’s entrance, on the ground surrounded by a pool of blood.

Wanda didn’t even have to think twice as she sprinted over to you. She kneeled down onto the floor and turned you over on your back, a gasp escaping her lips at your condition. 

There was so much blood and so many holes that had been scattered across your body; so many gunshot wounds. 

Tears fell from the Sokovian’s eyes when she realized something; you weren’t breathing. As she held your limp body in her arms, she couldn’t feel the steady rise and fall of your chest that she had spent hours of her life lying on. 

“Y/N? Baby? We’re here now, you can wake up now. They’re gone, you’re safe. You can stop pretending now.” 

The entire team stood around Wanda as she clutched your lifeless body to her chest. Steve put his shield onto the ground and kneeled, everyone else following after him. 

The team stood around Wanda as she clutched your lifeless body to her chest. Steve put his shield onto the ground and kneeled, everyone else following after him. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You weren’t just a coworker; you were family. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

This was a great loss for everyone and the silent forest was filled with the sounds of sniffles from everyone on the team; even Natasha, ever the emotionless woman, let tears fall down her face freely. The atmosphere was heavy as everyone watched Wanda. 

The brunette shoved her face into the crook of your neck as her hands caressed your sides, not caring about the blood. 

“Honey? Please, I’m so sorry. You’re not a monster, you’re the best thing to have ever happened to me. I’m so fucking sorry for hurting you and letting you come here alone. I was a bitch and I admit it, so please come back to me now.” 

Sobs wracked Wanda’s body as she hugged you even tighter. The silence was defeating. You didn’t respond and it broke the Sokovian. 

“I don’t love Vision. I thought I did, but I got so confused about my feelings and I’m so sorry. Please, I’m begging you, let me fix this. You can’t leave me.” 

Tony took a deep breath and looked away from the scene. This was hard to watch, even for him. Wanda’s pleads were useless and everyone seemed to know this except her. 

Steve slowly made his way over to Wanda, placing a strong hand on her shoulder. However, what happened next was completely unexpected. 

Wanda let out a growl and with the flick of her wrist, Steve was sent flying into the Quinjet you had been laying in front of. 

“You. You said that it was a simple extraction mission! Go in, get the intel, get out! Do you remember that?” 

Wanda was absolutely furious. Her eyes were glowing red as she gently placed your body on the floor before walking over to the super-soldier that sat on the floor.

“Wanda, don’t do this. Hurting Steve won’t bring Y/N back and you know that.” Clint intervened before the brunette could get any closer to Steve. Wanda took a look around her, everyone was standing up with their defenses up, watching her every move. 

She took a deep breath and her eyes returned to their natural shade of green. You were gone. There was no bringing you back. She’d lost yet another person she loved. 

Wanda fell to her knees, but Clint caught her just before she hit the ground. He held the sobbing woman in his arms and shut his eyes tightly, suppressing tears of his own. 

You were gone for good. 

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎────────────────❅•

The team had made it back to the Compound. The entire ride was silent, aside from Wanda’s sobs as she cradled your body in her arms. 

She refused to let you go, placing your limp body in her lap and clinging onto you. It was a heartbreaking sight. 

Finally, the team had managed to pry your body out of her arms, convincing Wanda to let go so you could get cleaned up and put into better clothes. Yeah, it was very grim, but necessary. 

Wanda placed one last kiss on your forehead and watched as Steve carried you off. Every fiber in her body was screaming to chase after him and pull you out of his arms, but she refrained. 

Natasha tried to speak to Wanda, but the Sokovian didn’t even acknowledge her. Even Vision tried to speak to her as she made her way out of the medical bay, but she brushed him off too. The only person she wanted to talk to was you, but obviously, she couldn’t do that anymore. 

So, Wanda made her way into the elevator and up to the living quarters. She trudged through the halls and made her way into her bedroom. Her hands were shaky as she made it to her destination; a drawer in the corner of her room. 

Wanda opened the drawer and frantically searched through it for the object she was looking for. She froze when she finally found it. She slowly pulled her hand out of the drawer and in her hold was a tiny, velvet box; the one you had presented to her on the roof over a year ago. 

A harsh sob wracked Wanda’s body when she opened the box, her eyes landing on the glimmering ring that sat inside of it. 

Wanda never thought that the day would come, where she had to permanently say goodbye to you. She always assumed that there would always be an opportunity for the two of you to say hello again.

Now, the brunette knew that she shouldn’t have ever jumped to conclusions. 

Wanda’s hands quaked harder as she was hit with a memory that once brought her happiness, but now, it left her gasping for air.

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎────────────────❅•

“Y/N?” Wanda called out to you, causing you to look up from your phone and down at her.

You guys had been lounging on the couch. You had the day off and decided it was a good time to stay in and be lazy for once. 

“Yeah?” You asked as Wanda cuddled further into your side, shoving her face into your upper arm. 

“I need you to promise me something.” You nodded your head at her words, shutting your phone off and placing it beside you; giving her your undivided attention. 

“Anything.” Wanda let out a shaky breath at your words, pulling back to stare into your eyes that shined down at her. 

“I need you to promise me you won’t die.” You raised your eyebrows at the brunette with an amused smile, a chuckle escaping your lips. 

“Well, baby. As much as I want to promise you that, I can’t. I have to die someday, everyone does.” 

Wanda frowned at your words. Her eyebrows scrunched up cutely as a pout made its way to her lips. 

“Then promise me you won’t die before me. I can’t lose another person I love, I jus- I just can’t. I refuse to lose you too.”

You immediately stopped laughing at that. You knew about Wanda’s past. She’d lost all of her family members. She was terrified and you kind of felt like a dick for laughing. 

You wanted to ease her nerves, even if you knew you couldn’t promise her that either. You’d do anything, promise anything, as long as it made her happy. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I promise I won’t die before you.” 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Thank you.”

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎────────────────❅•

Wanda shook her head slightly as more tears fell down her cheeks. Her hands were trembling as she carefully pulled the ring out of the box, admiring the diamond that sat on top of the band. She put the box back into the drawer and focused on the piece of jewelry.

The only thing that brought her any form of comfort in this fucked up situation, was that she’d be able to say hello to you again. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Maybe not in this life, but in the next one. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

For now, she’d have to live with the regret of letting you slip through her fingertips; for pushing away the love of her life. 

What if she followed you on the mission like she was supposed to? What if she had been there to protect you from the danger? What if she had gotten to you on time?

She could’ve saved you if she had just gone with you on that god damn mission. You would’ve been alive and safe if she was there. Now, the ‘what if’s’ would haunt her for the rest of her life. 

Wanda slowly slipped the ring onto her finger, her heart pounding in her chest. 

The silver of the ring was a stark contrast to her blood-covered, crimson skin. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I do.” 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

───────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

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[pixie-dust-and-pain]

Your Son's Undead

Summary: Peter Parker might be a genius, but he's an absolute idiot sometimes. Like now, for example, when he's managed to convince the world he's dead. Warnings: Swearing? Nothing else tbh (Slight angst?? very slight this is just crack mostly) Words: 2468 STARKER FANS DNI DO NOT INTERACT I WILL FIND YOU AND I WILL KILL YOU AND THEN I WILL SHIT ON YOUR GRAVES DO NOT INTERACT NOT STARKER NO

He’s screwed. He’s so painfully, horridly, royally, screwed he doesn’t even know why he’s standing there. On the plus side, he’s won the bet with Ned, which was to shock a visible, human reaction out of MJ before the school year ends (he’s sure it’s a feat he’ll never be able to accomplish again), on the downside, the twenty dollars he’s owed won’t do him much given that Tony Stark will personally drag him to Hell before he can use them. Oops.

Maybe he’ll be locked up in a tower like Rapunzel, grounded forever. That would make sense, Tony’s too nice and emotionally attached to kill him (he hopes). Besides, he didn’t spend all that time mourning his death simply to kill him when he comes back, right? Instead, he'll be stuck forever braiding his hair and singing to birds until a dashing man or woman come to steal him away. And Tony would then shoot them dead on spot. Unless it was MJ, Tony's a little (understatement) scared of her.

“Dude,” Ned rasps out in awed disbelief for the nth time that day, “You’re dead,”

Fuck it he knew that. “Yeah,” he tries to keep his voice level, nonchalant. He’d shown up at Ned’s house that afternoon, and had been graciously let in. After all, it was Spiderman who was dead to the world, not Peter Parker. MJ had been there too, probably over to grieve over his death, and had promptly moved to pinch his arm to make sure he was real. When she'd felt actual skin under her arms, and not mist or some magic shit, she'd pulled him into a hug, and then shoved him away just as fast, mumbling something about he was a loser and how he stunk. 

MJ blinks, as though she can’t believe herself, and then takes a deep breath, quite possibly restraining herself from attempting murder. “You faked your death,”

“Accidentally,”

“You know-” she breaks off, closing her eyes once more as she inhales a little forcefully. He wonders if she’s holding back tears, but when she opens them again and looks at him, he realizes that, no, she’s holding back homicidal rage. “We thought you died,”

“I was hurt!” He flails his arms around, as though trying to defend himself. The wound in his side burns, and he winces. Better not let Tony find out about that, though he's sure it'll heal soon. “I thought I’d sleep it off and it’d be no biggie, with my super-healing and all, I didn’t know I crawled into the wrong apartment and was presumed dead,”

He actually had known the former, he’d just been too tired to care, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. He’d been pronounced dead, for goodness’ sake, the only thing that hadn’t turned up was his body, which he was sure MJ would deliver right at the police station’s doorstep if he told her the whole truth. Besides, his neighbours had been out on vacation and, at the time, it had seemed like a great idea.

What he hadn’t taken into account during his blood-loss-induced haze, was that his aunt might have panicked, and maybe Tony cared enough to spend all day looking for him, scanning all of fucking America, calling up the president and shit when he hadn’t turned up. Of course he'd felt slightly giddy with happiness at that, Tony had cared enough for him to pull all the spots, MJ and Ned had bunked school, something he thought they weren't physically capable of, simply to show up to the Tower and demand a nationwide search for their friend. Ned, who sputtered and blushed every time he met Mr. Stark had demanded something for his sake. Okay, maybe he'd pleaded, and MJ has stepped in and demanded, but still. Tony had laughed and said he'd already got it covered, and then had proceeded to drink cold, sludge-like coffee with a shaking hand. 

“You were gone for two days,”

“I fell asleep,”

“What about the tracking device Mr. Stark has on your suit?” Ned suddenly pipes up after drafting a quick text to Happy about how peter’s alive lol. Adrenaline makes him do possibly the stupidest thing he’s done (apart from hacking a multimillion dollar suit, and FRIDAY that one time they wanted to change Mr. Stark’s title to Mr. Stank), and he ignores the texts he gets from Happy in response, something along the lines of ‘stupid teenagers letting out grief through hurting others’ as though he’s some teen-hating psychologist. He thinks he sees a link for an article, something to do with dealing with grief. He leaves him on seen. This is his revenge, his bitterness and rage and sadness, making him a little shit to these authority figures, because he might worship them, but he partly blames them for all this. He shouldn’t, Peter’s a stubborn little shit, and all they’ve done is help, honestly, but he does.

He sends a separate one to Tony. It just says, cum get ur son mr stork cunt see kinda cryin rn so oh hes unded btwz

They need to know.

Peter blinks, as though the thought has only just occurred to him, and MJ has to once again force every atom in her body not to attack him. She could take him. He might be an enhanced spider-boy thing but he’s a pussy, super-strength be damned.

She voices out as much, threatening him bodily harm if he doesn’t tell them exactly what the fuck happened. Ned holds back a comment about how Peter would probably like it.

“I-uh,” He flushes, actually looking embarrassed, and Ned has a horribly daunting realization.

“You disabled it,” Ned sputters out, barely able to believe Peter. For an absolute genius of a child, he sure lacks common fucking sense, “For the bet. You disabled it for the damn bet,”

Flash had bet them that they couldn’t sneak out to a party. Stupid, really, given that both their parents would be overjoyed at the prospect of them doing normal, teenage things. May would probably drive them there herself, and would give Peter a lecture on how he should drink, but not too much, and maybe not hook up but making out was fine. It filled him with dread.

But, of course ,he wouldn’t turn down a bet that simple, except, his suit was tracked, so he might have ‘accidentally’ turned said tracker off, and he might’ve gotten thrown in a lake, and then into a tree, and then into a wall, and then pummeled into the ground and shot at, and his tracker might have gotten a little broken. He’d meant to fix it, obviously, but he couldn’t just ignore someone’s cry for help. And the next thing he knew, he was in someone else’s bed, prying a bullet out his thigh and webbing up a stab wound on his abdomen, painting their bedspread red.

MJ is quick to connect the dots, and she turns to him, blankly, and says, “I would kill you but I’m guessing Tony Stark has that covered,” The sentence chills him to his bones. She pats his shoulder patronizingly, “Your funeral is at 3 today, don’t be late,”

*-*

He wonders if he’s the first person ever to crash his funeral. They’re all standing around a little Spiderman shrine, more than half of Queens, muttering words of solace and comfort. Tony stands away, so sure the kid is alive because he just can’t be dead. It’s not possible. Peter Parker will not die before him dammit.

The kid, his kid, he's sure, is alive somewhere, because there's no body and he's clinging on to every last bit of hope there is. God, the kid, the absolute genius child, fucking sunshine in a bottle or something, with his shit-eating grin and non-stop chatter and hero-worship, and his self-sacrificial self, all courage and smiles and everything Tony is, but better. He lost his kid. Because no matter what he says to the Avengers when they wiggle their brows or call him a 'dad', or to Pepper, when she smiles knowingly, there are some things he can't deny, one of them being that Peter Benjamin Parker is, in every way save biological, his child.

And then he feels guilty, the feelings he’d pushed away coming back in full force. It’s his fault the kid is dead. He should never have recruited him (even though he’d have gone around protecting Queens anyway), should have strictly reprimanded him (even though he knew it wouldn’t have done jackshit), should have done something. Another protocol, setting stricter rules with his aunt, getting Karen to check in with him every hour. He runs over the countless ways he could’ve avoided this, could’ve saved the kid, when he feels a hesitant tug at his sleeve.

This isn’t the first time someone’s cornered him while he’s mourning. He’s been ignoring people all day, sitting alone in his corner of misery, isolated from the world as he laments fate over and over again for taking away his child, because how can the universe be ever so cruel to a person? He lets himself stew in self-pity, no father, no son, pathetic, broken Tony Stark, who has everything, and yet, nothing.

He’s tired, distraught, and ready to snap at whoever it is before he comes face to face with Peter. He blinks, and Peter idly notices how everyone seems to do that whenever they see him. He reaches a hand out hesitantly, poking at the kid’s head, because this isn’t the first hallucination he’s had in the past 72 hours he’s been awake. His hand meets soft, fluffy, slightly matted, supposedly real, hair. He takes in a sharp breath, stumbling backwards, muttering about how he’s not real, how he’s not falling for the tricks his mind’s playing on him again.

“Mr Stark?” His kid says slowly, and that’s all it takes for him to break, reaching out to grab him, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug.

Tony Stark, to his absolute horror, makes a guttural sound, which he later realizes is a half-strangled sob. He’s ugly-crying now, reporters and media and dignity be damned, clutching the kid so close because he’s scared to let go. It feels like a dream, like the second he loosens his grip the child will disappear, turn into smoke or some shit. So he doesn’t. He holds Peter close to him for twelve minutes straight, incoherently telling him he loves him and that he’s okay and alive. Peter will later deny any and all claims of him having cried, too.

When he pulls away, eyes red-rimmed, dark circles somehow even more prominent, looking as though he’s aged ten years within a few days, Peter feels so painfully guilty, he wants to cry all over again. Tony doesn’t let him, though, instead, he grabs the kid by the arm and leads him to the car, stumbling over his words, something about a scan and FRIDAY.

"Mr. Stark," he whispers, and is met with a tired smile.

"Yeah, kid?"

I love you, thank you, I'm sorry. "You look like a Victorian mother who ate her kids to survive the Great Depression,"

"My asshole kid convinced everyone he was dead, the haggard appearance is expected," I love you too.

"What a bitchass kid," I'm sorry

"Hm, but he's my bitchass kid," I forgive you.

Someday, he'll figure out a way to tell Mr. Stark everything he has to say to his face. Someday. 

Happy looks at him for a long time when he climbs into the backseat of the car, gaping at him first, before muttering something about Ned, and wiping at his eyes to rid himself of something that looked suspiciously like tears as he speeds to the tower. Everyone else has been informed, and the Avengers have already promised to drop by the Tower to see the kid tomorrow (They would've the very same day, but Tony said something about rest and fragility, and they shut up. Bruce knew he was making shit on spot, he just wanted to be alone with the kid, but nobody had the heart to call him out on it) but Peter’s in Tony’s care right now, and he’s going to make sure the damn kid won’t die on him any time soon.

“Peter Benjamin Parker,” May’s voice rings out as they leave Dr. Cho’s care, and Peter suddenly regrets not letting MJ kill him. May strides over to him and she pats him down, checking for injuries as though he didn't just get scanned twice, before gathering him in her arms and proceeding to curse at him in Italian. He's sure May's coming up with half these curses on spot.

For the next hour, he sits as they both hug him, far too grief-stricken to do much more. He’s caressed and coddled and cried over until they finally realize that they have to yell at him. And then May begins cursing at him in Italian, and they form the oddest team of all, a sleep-deprived billionaire and an angry Italian woman, a mixture of languages and swears, with only one purpose in mind.

“I want an update even if you get so much as a single scratch-"

“Two minutes past curfew, that’s your grace period, otherwise I’m getting Tony to call the fucking military-”

“No Spidermanning for two weeks-"

“Three weeks,”

“Three months,”

“You’re grounded for the whole month,”

“What were you thinking?”

“We thought you were-” May breaks off, sniffling.

“There are protocols and tracking devices for a reason, Underoos, and we-when the news-kid, we just want you to be safe,”

Peter very pointedly does not tell them about the fact that he disabled the tracking device, although he suspects Mr. Stark already knows. He wants to save May from the aneurysm. He apologizes profusely, guilt eating him up, and he’s assured that it’s okay, that he’s alive and that’s all that matters, that they love him.

They decide on a punishment, no Spidermanning for two weeks, he’s grounded for a month, and no lab-time for two weeks, either, to which he protests with a groan. He deserves it, though, and is only allowed to show his face once in Queens as Spiderman, to assure them that he is very much alive.

Sometime later in the day, Tony finally checks his phone, and reads the message from Leeds twice before absolutely losing his shit as he clutches his kid close. He wipes his tears away, kissing the crown of Peter’s head, and runs his hand through his curls. “You’re undead,”

Peter has no idea what the absolute fuck he means, but he lets his slightly deranged mentor ramble on anyway, about storks, the undead, and some things he’s sure May would skin him alive for repeating.

[i-smell-sass]

"What in the yellow flower hell?!" Henry Bowers X Male Reader Headcannons

Requested: Yes/No : Henry Bowers x male reader who loves giving him sunflower stuff! (i assumed you meant it in a romantic and not only platonic way!)

-Henry was in the same class and/or grade as the losers club since he was held back a year for being too violent and not giving in his assignments etc. (8th grade)

-You, on the other hand were in the same grade as criss, huggins and hockstetter. (9th grade)

- though you don't talk a lot with henry, you liked to think you were okay friends with him, even though he never really acknowledged you as a "friend" and more as "loser who hangs around me all the time" you assumed.

-somewhere, you can't remember who told you or how you noticed, but somehow you were told/realized henry liked sunflowers a lot.

-he even went to class with one lazily scribbled onto his forearm, you assumed it was Patrick scribbling on henry's arms since his own were full of his own bored scribbles from class.

-you had a mild crush on him 3 months into the friendship, which he didn't quite catch at first.

-Henry had a crush on you too, surprisingly, though he kept it to himself mostly, didn't really act upon it, partly because he didn't know if you felt the same, and partly because he was fighting with his own acceptance of being gay. (onto the real topic, got a bit carried away)

-the first time you gave him something sunflower related was when he was leaning his chin on his hand and had his elbow resting on his knee for support, notebook in his lap as he waited for the rest of the gang to come back from who knows where, you sitting beside him on the floor, scribbling around on the white cover of his notebook, drawing a pretty good sunflower on it and writing 'to make your day a bit brighter' over it before saying goodbye to henry, telling him you were gonna meet up with Richie and the others. (sorry its so much text, got detailed ideas)

-2nd time you gifted him something sunflower related was when you walked over to henry's locker after class, slapping a sunflower sticker on it with a note attached to the bottom, it telling him you were gonna wait by his car.

-honestly he was confused how you knew he liked sunflowers, but found the gifts nice. made him feel like someone cared about him.

-3rd time was a sunflower on the passenger seat of the blue spray painted car, where he normally sat. He asked if it was some kind of prank from hockstetter or belch, but they both didn't know how it got there in the first place.

-4th was when you were walking next to him as he was exiting the Derry school. "so, wanna go and help plant some sunflowers? mom said she would appreciate some help, and i think you would like them" you smiled and henry agreed reluctantly, since it was more time away from his father, and more time he got to spend with you.

-he slowly starts giving you gifts in return, random little things he finds that remind him of you.

-he slowly starts opening up to you and telling you about everything he's been through, including the abuse of his father.

-you appreciate him telling you, and let him know whenever he is struggling emotionally he could come to you.

-you kept gifting him little things; a sunflower pin here, a sticker there, maybe a mug with a sunflower on it that read 'have a sunny day!' as cheesy as that was,

-once you gave him a small golden sunflower charm for one of the many bracelets/wristbands he was wearing, he decided to tell you.

-he always acted like he didn't care about you or your "stupid little gifts", he called them, though he always kept them.

-the day he confessed was.. a little awkward. -He walked behind you, as quiet as he could before yanking your shirt back and pulling you into an empty classroom with him. -You were surprised, pressed up between henry bowers and a cold concrete wall. Your breath hitched lightly and henry glared at you, huffing as he just... stared. -He had never been overly aggressive with Y/N, but today he seemed on edge. -he closed his eyes, took a deep breath and began to speak; "look, Y/N, i know this is weird- and you're probably confused, but.. -fuck, why are you so damn adorable with your little stupid gifts and the way you look at me and-" -he took a deep breath again and sighed, opening his eyes to look at your blushing face. "look, what i wanna say is, i like you. More than a friend. and i know this could fuck everything up, but i really need to know if you feel the same." -you blinked a little, sorting your thoughts, blushing a deep shade of red [if blushing shows up on your skin tone] and grabbing henry's face, kissing him, to which he kissed back instantly, grip on the straps of your backpack he was holding you at loosening. -when you pulled back, you rolled your E/C eyes. "of course i like you back, idiot." you both snickered at that, -"so... boyfriends?" he asked, holding up his pinky to intertwine with yours. You nodded, letting out a huff-like laugh, " 'course, dummy."

-your time continued as boyfriends, Henry sleeping over at yours as much he could to spend time with you and also avoid his dad.

-you braided his hair, used sunflower hair ties and had a little sunflower garden with him in your backyard.

-taking a couple polaroid's too, probably.

-he eventually told his gang that he was dating you, which turned out to go way more smoothly than he anticipated. A: because he was the leader, obviously, and B: because most of them were either attracted to the same gender too or just accepting enough.

-you started hanging out with henry and his gang, which they didn't mind.

-also getting him to talk about his feelings instead of bottling them up and lashing out in aggressive episodes, resulting in less bullying.

soo.. this is it, didn't know how to "end it" per say, but here you have it! hope you enjoyed!

TAGLIST: (couldn't tag you, @stonnerwayne25, but yeah, here!) @somethingfreaky , @something-bizarre

[artmotherhoodandmadness]

Breaking the trauma bond with the help of EMDR

Trauma bonds have punctuated my whole life; in fact my very first one was probably the relationship with my middle sister. I put her on a pedestal and thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world and a genius. She took umbrage with my perception of her and in seconds her volatile outbursts could leave me flattened and annihilated. My mother and stepfather frequently had outbursts too; you never knew when another bomb was going to be detonated. But then my sister could be funny, charming, charismatic and erudite; my mother made exquisite food; and my stepfather would buy my art materials when I needed them. They could behave monstrously, but they could be nice too. This was how the intermittent reinforcement was cemented, there would be storms peppered with moments of sunshine and you hoped there would be more sunny days than stormy ones. Like the lab rats experimented on in Skinner’s experiment, the rat would keep pulling the lever hoping for a reward but Skinner ensured that the pellets came with less frequency; nonetheless the rat would keep pulling the lever and neglect everything else hoping for another pellet. Just one last high, one last reward, one final hit of dopamine. Without realising it the rat had become an addict, and without realising it as a child I became an addict, too, addicted to a lethal combination of chemicals, unleashed when I was shouted at, namely cortisol, followed by my reward dopamine if I was on the receiving end of a moment of kindness. But moments of kindness were inconsistent and unpredictable.

The next trauma bond lasted ten years with a girl at school who really didn’t like me and could be cruel, indifferent and a bully, but I was blindly devoted to her and it caused me great distress and sadness when she discarded me, then hoovered me up, gave me a crumb of attention only to devalue and discard once more, it was an insidious pattern. I watched her develop from a vibrant, happy girl, to one who was obese and an alcoholic from the age of 10 to 18. I didn't understand at the time that it was another trauma bond and so a pattern has persisted in my life to this day. When I look back on specific friendships and numerous interactions, there were often unhealthy attachments with typically narcissistic types.

During my session with Dr S I told him about my friend of three years, a fellow, artist, who struggled with emotionally unstable personality disorder. His outbursts left me decimated, but then I focused on his talents in music and photography and believed, as a mental health campaigner, I could not abandon him.

Dr S said, ‘No good comes from maintaining contact with a narcissist. The only person that benefits is the narcissist, you are being used as supply.’

Dr S ascertained that my friend was a narcissist in minutes after I shared a text exchange. I had told my friend that I was doing EMDR and very quickly his texts became rebarbative.

‘You have to delete his number, you cannot allow someone to speak to you like that, he’s a scumbag.’ Dr S said matter of factly.

I thought of the times in the past, since I had my psychosis, when I had erratic outbursts and said things that I would never have said if I had been well, and I was convinced me deleting his number would be tantamount to abandoning him.

‘You are spreading yourself too thin,’ Dr S concluded.

‘You are in therapy, you are trying to get better, you have to focus on the here and now, your husband and children, not saving others.’

My friend reminded me of my sister, just as I had hoped to save her, I hoped to save him, but Dr S was right, I had to reinstate myself. What good would come from having a ‘self detonating fire cracker’ in my life?

‘Charity begins at home,’ Dr S said.

‘He has made you his slave. He has become heroin. You are behaving like an addict.’

All of this was shocking, I didn’t want to be anyone’s slave and the EMDR commenced. I held that thought. ‘Slave.’ The word got bigger and louder in my head to the point where I said, ‘No more.’

Had the penny dropped? I had a high tolerance for abuse, because I grew up in a volatile household but everyone has their tipping point. My husband knew about my friendship and didn't approve, in his eyes my friend was a ‘loser’.

Suddenly I was confused, were there some mentally ill people that you just dismissed as beyond help?

‘Could he ever get better?’ I asked.

‘Yes, with EMDR it’s possible.’

He was a cannabis user, too, and as long as he smoked he would continue to have delusions of grandeur and a strong sense of entitlement. I thought of my other friend, a photographer who was addicted to cannabis. He was on medication and receiving mental health support but still had not turned his life around, and it was frustrating to talk to him. I realised that it did not serve me to listen to him talking about cannabis, it brought me low, he was doing nothing with his life, just frittering it away. I was proactive, productive, a creator and I wanted to be around people who appreciated my talents, who were supportive and encouraging, who were stable and kind. My digital paintings reflected the conflict between the turbulence that I was facing and the desire for calm, there was a stark dichotomy of disparate forces coming into play when I looked at them.

Dare I say it I needed normal people in my life, not dysfunctional ones and this predilection for the dysfunctional stemmed from childhood. Did I want to be dysfunctional or functional? Of course I wanted the latter.

Dr S continued with the EMDR focusing on the analogy of the friendship being like heroin and as he moved his fingers I said to myself, ‘I don’t want to be a heroin addict, I am not a junky, I will go zero contact, I will no longer respond.’

Dr S went even further and said the abuse I had received during the friendship, had left me with battered wife syndrome and a diminished sense of self, this was also shocking. But it reminded me of how I felt as a child when my stepfather hit me in public, or my sister and mother shouted at me in a public place, my self esteem would shrivel to the size of a pea. I always felt that I had done something wrong and that I deserved it.

My friendship with the artist, accompanied with his volatile outbursts, replicated these seminal childhood relationships and subliminally I knew all of this. In fact I had tried repeatedly to break contact.

My husband, by contrast, was stable, solid, responsible, patient and consistent. I didn’t get the same chemicals from my bond with him, but I did get a sense of security from an attachment with someone I had known since I was 19. And of course it had not been easy for him to see his wife go through a roller coaster ride of mental health struggles, often I had seen him as the enemy but that was no longer the case. It was like a dense fog had lifted. With the right treatment maybe I was going to finally turn a corner. Certainly he was happy with my progress, I owed it to my family and well being to stick with the treatment.

Maybe this would be my last ever trauma bond?

I told Dr S that everyday I did my writing, art, music and exercise. I also tried to be present with the kids, my focus was on being calm, fostering a stable environment at home and so far I had achieved this. I didn’t believe that I could have psychosis again, or raise my voice or have an episode. In fact, I didn’t recognise who that person was. I was returning to the person I was before the psychosis.

Dr S said it would be a long road but that all the dots could be joined together from childhood, and there was still much to investigate and unpick. My life was filled with so much trauma, how would it be possible to process it all? The bilateral stimulation that came from EMDR activated the left and right hemispheres of the brain; these memories would become less potent as they were processed. I saw EMDR as a method of breaking down and diminishing the power of unpleasant memories and when I got home I decided to try it myself. I took a recurring and unpleasant memory and then I analysed and focused on one aspect of it. For example, when I was in London, I met many famous people and often it made me feel uncomfortable and inadequate, I couldn’t deal with such interaction and yet at the same time I wondered if they were better than me because they were richer and more successful. Instead I said, ‘I am me, I like my simple life, they have skills, but so do I, do I want to be them? No I am happy painting, writing and composing, my heroes are the underdogs, the ones that never got any recognition but carried on regardless.’ Then I held onto that idea and did the EMDR. I did this repeatedly with memories that  have kept on recurring for decades until I felt giddy with mental exhaustion. Dr S said that I might have vivid dreams as a result and sure enough my dreams were filled with random recollections of trauma. There was so much of it and it was shocking that I had endured and survived it all, but that was the point, I had survived and I was still standing.

I read online that it was possible to do EMDR on your own, I realised that there were things that I didn’t want to share with Dr S, they were too harrowing and sometimes his response was not gentle, he was tough with me, he did not mince his words and I was just too sensitive. I felt judged by him in many ways, judged by everyone and of course I wanted to hide it all, hide everything that had happened but that was not possible, I had to face it.

Thankfully my relationship with my mother is healthy now, she acknowledges  that when my sisters and I were growing up she could be irascible and identified that it stemmed from her relationship with her father who was always screaming at home, it left her terrified and unwittingly she emulated this model of parenting. I have learnt from the past and don’t shout in front of the children, they are happy and vibrant and thriving, there is no need for patterns of childhood to be repeated.

EMDR seemed to be the right treatment, I would stick with it, bit by bit I was getting stronger and yes, my artist friend, despite his talents, I would have to let him go. He would be my last trauma bond and my brain would recalibrate and no longer be addicted to the chemicals that it had fed off for most of my life. It was not going to be easy - that’s for sure -  but with patience and persistence and support and critically, EMDR, it was possible to break the trauma bond for good.

[therestismutlol]

Leverage • Xiaojun x Reader (Part 1)

You’ve just got to use Xiaojun for revenge.

***

Chaeyeon.

She’s one of the headaches you tend to get every single minute. The fact that her seat was always ‘coincidentally’ close to yours was not helping.

You didn’t intend to hate her this much, but you do. Maybe it’s because of the way she rolls her eyes at you every single time she meets your eyes. Maybe it’s the cruel way she had spread rumours about you around last semester. Or maybe it’s because she’s just unacceptably pretty, rich, and talented because how could she have all those when she has an awful personality?

Anyway, you just despised her even more when she bumped into you purposely in the hallway this morning. It was on purpose, you were sure, because you saw her smirk then head her way. You swore to yourself the next time she tried to pick a fight with you, you’re more than ready to wipe that irritating smirk off her face.

Today was like any other day. You had planned to have something after your afternoon classes at the university’s café, then drop by the library to study a bit more. Today though, you’ll also drop by to get your roommate Kun the books he pleaded you to get for him, then go to your shared dorm and get some sleep.

4 o'clock in, you’re seated in your usual table near the window in the coffee shop, relaxing jazz music playing in the background. You’ve always wanted to change the music because it seemed like you’ve already memorized when the piano comes in and out and where the climax will happen, but you need to be part of the staff first, which was another responsibility you are not ready to take on. So you forget all that and just thank all the Lords out there jazz was playing, and not screamo music.

“Dahyun, hey,” you smiled once you saw your friend enter the shop and come to your table.

“Hey,” she breathed, then slumped to the chair opposite to yours. “I ran a mile just to catch up with you.”

You giggled.“You’re exaggerating. Anyway, what are you doing here?”

She raised a brow at you, and fished something out of her pocket and put it on the table. You widened your eyes as you closed your laptop.

“My phone!” How come you didn’t notice it gone from your own pocket?

“You left it in class, airhead.” Dahyun rested her chin on her palm, elbow on the table. “It’s a good thing I was the one who found it first. Did you know that for a second, Chaeyeon was about to pick it up too? Too bad I was nearest.”

You groaned.“I’m so stupid! If she was the one to pick it up, she’s going to find something to blackmail me with and ruin my life!”

“Again. That girl’s set on ruining your life.”

“One (favorite/drink).” The server came to your table to deliver your order. You smiled at him, and he warmly smiled back before returning to his place.

“That guy’s pretty cute.” Dahyun swooned right after, eyes lingering to the counter where he was reaching for napkins from the drawers.“How come I just saw him?”

“He’s a dance major. I believe his name was Yukhei.”

“And here I thought I knew everyone in this campus. Why do you know him?” She pouts.

“He’s a friend of my roommate, Kun. Comes over sometimes.”

“You’re so lucky. Introduce me to him sometimes, will you?”

“Sure,” you shrugged, before reaching for your (f/d) but Dahyun was quick and reached for it first. You gaped when she took a sip from it, because you haven’t even touched it yet!

“Hey! That’s mine,”

“Who cares? I have hot tea to spill.”

You rolled your eyes at her attempt on changing the subject, before reaching for your phone to put it in your backpack’s front pocket.

“It’s Chaeyeon,”

You groaned.“Who cares about that bitch.”

“Hear me out first!”

You glared at her, but her stare was unwavering. She grinned.

“She’s currently obsessed with someone.”

Obsessed with someone? Well that was enough to pique your interest. Chaeyeon was that arrogant ass who never showed desperation for anyone, because usually it was the other way around. Why would she, when she could get whoever she wants wrapped around her finger? So you wondered why, this time, her pride was nonexistent. Was she really?

“I’ve heard from a lot of my girl friends that she’s been hanging around him for three months now. She also keeps giving him gifts every. Single. Day. Could you believe that? I couldn’t believe it because how could she, but then I just saw her give him a small box earlier with my own two eyes. It’s pathetic.

"Also, I’ve heard from her sister that one time when the guy told her to stop bugging him, she stormed to his dorm and made a scene. First, banged on his door, then camped outside the whole night. When morning came she threatened to jump from the building if he doesn’t come out and apologize to her, and so he did and she stopped.”

You couldn’t hold in your laughter. She looked like a complete idiot, you wished you were there when it happened. How come you didn’t know any of these?

“Holy shit, that’s hilarious. Are you sure though that he isn’t her boyfriend, or ex? Because she seemed too emotionally attached.”

“I swear to God, (Y/n), she’s deluding herself and is currently spreading around that she and him are a thing, when, repeatedly, he has been rejecting her and shuts down everything that has to do with her. Poor boy. She’s really that obsessed.”

“Okay, but with whom?” You badly wanted to know now, because surely, it had to be someone really handsome or rich or popular for her to be at his mercy.

“Xiaojun. You know the guy from public speaking class? It’s him.”

You slowly raised your eyebrows. “Xiao…jun? Xiao Dejun?”

“I’m not sure, but I think he really is Xiao Dejun.”

That Xiaojun?

…That was kinda shocking. Was it really him?

Xiaojun was, indeed, a student you frequently see in public speaking class. You don’t notice him often, because he always sat far from you and you just didn’t care, and usually, he’s with his set of friends. And by set of friends, you meant Kun, Yukhei, Ten–they often hung out in your dorm, since Kun was your roommate. This is why you’re a bit familiar with him, but you were never close. Sure, you’ve once played a videogame with them, but that was it. All of your interactions with him are casual.

Sure, he was cute. But he seemed too plain for you. Just what did Chaeyeon find in Xiaojun that made her go nuts for him?

“She’s out of her mind."You breathed out.

"She’s just starving for love and attention. Well, I couldn’t blame the boys if they didn’t wanna date a girl like her, because same. She’s so problematic.”

“For easy sex, how about that?” You retorted, words laced with hidden double meanings, and Dahyun smirked, understanding.

"Well, I mean, if that’s how you put it. She’s great at that.”

“As expected from the campus’ whore.”

You both shared an ugly cackle. You usually felt bad for talking about another person badly, especially in public, but because it was Chaeyeon, you actually enjoyed it. So much, you just wanted everyone from the coffeeshop to hear your conversation.

Four hours have passed and you found yourself frowning once you close the door of your dorm room. There were loud male voices that were clearly not Kun’s coming from your spaces.

Kun seemed to hear you arrive, for he approached you in the doorway with an apologetic smile.

“The boys are here again. Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” you shook your head, removing your shoes to place them at a corner to wear your fluffy indoor slippers.

“They’re playing online games again.”

“I figured.”

When the three boys saw you, they greeted you before ultimately focusing on their online game.

“Hey (Y/n).”

“What’s up?”

“It’s us again.”

“Yeah,"you answered, looking at Xiaojun who smiled before getting smacked at the head by Yukhei.

"What the fuck dude!” Yukhei hissed.

“What did I do?” Xiaojun groaned, rubbing the spot that was hit on his head.

“You’re so fucking stupid, oh my god.”

“What did I do?”

“You got distracted,"Ten chuckles.

You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle as well.

"Anyway, (Y/n), I cooked dinner for us. Let’s eat dinner while these guys mess around.”

Dinners with Kun were always the best. Well, if it was him cooking, of course. Unfortunately, you cook on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays–good thing today was a Tuesday. Even though no one asked, the boys said they’ve already ate so they wouldn’t share your food, like always. Well, it really was the right thing to do, because they’re already messing around in your dorm room, it would be another story if they had the audacity to beg for the food made only for you and Kun.

In short, you thank the heavens for having Kun as your roommate, and not anyone else.

You’ve handed over the books Kun asked you to pick up at the library today, and he thanked you by letting you use the shower first. Once you were done, Kun followed, while you now lingered in your place, at the top bunk of the bed.

You wanted to sleep, but the problem was, the boys were still there.

They were noisy as fuck. Even if you couldn’t sleep, you couldn’t study either. It’s already ten, you wondered if they really cared about their classes for tomorrow because it doesn’t seem like they’d be leaving anytime soon.

“Get him Dejun, get him!”

“What a fucking loser!”

Their shared laughter was what propped you up to your elbows as you looked down at them from the top.

Their eyes were glued to the screen, focused. They were obviously sucked into the game, not giving a single care for everything around them–well, not everyone, because apparently, someone felt your eyes bore at the back of their head.

Xiaojun looks up, and your eyes met.

He then instantly switched his attention from you to the game.

Xiaojun…

He suddenly intrigued you.

This was the guy that Chaeyeon was so head-over-heels for. The guy that could, if he wanted to, make her do anything he wants, and the only guy you think who could do so.

Does he realize the power that he currently has? You think not. He just seemed too oblivious. You don’t know. You don’t want to assume but that was the vibe that you’re getting from him. A guy that was nice.

You frowned, then subconsciously bit on your thumb, deep in thought.

Judging from her past relationships, you thought Chaeyeon was into guys who were either assholes or womanizers, as long as they looked good, is popular, or has them money.

But looking at Xiaojun sitting on the tiled floor in his wrinkly knitted white sweater and washed denim, you couldn’t expect anything. You seemed like you were underestimating him too much, but you know. There are a lot of guys out there. Even just in this room. There’s Yukhei who’s obviously hotter…and definitely a player. There’s Ten, who’s known by everyone in and out of the campus because of his reputation of being the best dancer. You couldn’t compare him to Kun though, because they share the same energy– but putting that aside, why him?

Why…him?

Something was definitely wrong with Chaeyeon.

The next day, you were a bit eager to go to classes just to collide with Chaeyeon because of the newly-obtained information you have.

You waited patiently for public speaking class to come, and once it did, your eyes searched for her.

And there she was, entering the room while keeping up with Xiaojun’s pace. She kept talking and talking beside him, and Xiaojun just nodded everytime. When he got to his seat, which was at the farthest left of the room, you saw Chaeyeon open her bag to fish out something. You winced in an attempt to see what it was, but because of the distance between you, you still couldn’t see what the hell it was but you assumed it was one of her gifts. Xiaojun accepted it without a word, like it was the norm(which really is), putting it in his bag. You snorted at the sorry sight.

Chaeyeon then came to sit on the row in front of you, two seats away, but of course, only before she threw a glare to your way. Classic Chaeyeon.

You almost jumped in shock when someone tapped your shoulder. It was Dahyun.

“My god,”

“Hi,"Dahyun smiles, "I thought I wanted to sit with you today.”

And so she did. But of course, you knew that meant you’re not going to pay attention to class anytime soon, because she turned to you, and whispered lowly.

“Did you see Chaeyeon give Xiaojun something today too?”

“Of course. It’s so pathetic. I wondered why I haven’t noticed this before.”

“Right?” Dahyun giggled. “Anyway, I investigated a little bit about him.”

Your professor was rambling on and on, but it seemed like it was only a background music for the two of you. You cared more about what your friend was about to say, even though at this point you shouldn’t care, but you’re so curious it’s probably going to kill you.

“Xiaojun is friends with Kun!”

You scoffed. Of course you knew that already.

“What?” Dahyun frowned at your reaction.“Don’t tell me you already..?”

“Is that the only fact you know about him? Nothing else?”

“Well… I’ve talked to one of his friends too, Ten? You know Ten?”

You nodded. She pouts.

“Why do you know so many things? Unfair,”

You know that she’s pissed because she was Dahyun, the one who has all eyes and ears in the campus. She has Intel everywhere– first one to know anything, so she breaking known news to you somewhat damages her reputation. But can she blame you?

“I don’t. He just comes over with his friends to play videogames in our dorm room because of Kun.”

“Oh. You must’ve talked a lot then.”

“We haven’t talked.”

“Okay,"Dahyun nodded."I bet you haven’t heard of this, then. As I was saying, I’ve talked to Ten, and they were classmates in Highschool. Said Xiaojun was the student council president and was always on top of his class. Everyone loved him, he was really popular.”

You raised a brow on her.“Really?”

Not like you didn’t expect it, because he definitely looked the part, but still.

“And, there’s more,"Dahyun gave you a smirk."Did you know that Chaeyeon was a classmate of theirs, too?”

Your jaw dropped.“What? Really?”

“Yeah. And this one’s the best. Chaeyeon wasn’t this bitchy before. According to Ten, she was wearing braces and thick-rimmed glasses.”

You gasped.“What the actual fuck?”

“Right?”

You and Dahyun looked at the woman who was the star of your conversation simultaneously–you could only see the back of her dyed-to-blonde hair, of course. Chaeyeon seemed to be listening to your professor intently.

“This woman has the guts to bitch around when way back in high school, she was a nerd? Unbelievable,"you scoffed.

"Right,"Dahyun tilted her head to the side."And to think that she’s had a past with Ten and Xiaojun, dammit,”

Your eyes then wondered to Xiaojun, who, like Chaeyeon, is currently listening to the lecture and typing down notes in his laptop.

You still haven’t gotten them off your mind hours later. You’re currently at the coffee shop, at your usual table, with your laptop opened. Only this time, you were on FaceBook digging in Chaeyeon’s profile. You wanted the pictures. You wanted her pictures where she was once that unpopular freak that she always bullies nowadays. You wanted to use it against her. If only the Lords had let you.

“Dammit, she deleted it all,” you frowned once you reached the end of her gallery. None.

“(F/d),”

Your eyes met Yukhei’s once again as he places your (F/d) on the table, but you didn’t bother to return the smile he gave. You were just too frustrated to the point the next person who greets you would surely get smacked.

But you were not the one who was greeted.

“Dejun!”

You blinked at the mention of the familiar name. Did you hear it right?

You looked up from your laptop and saw it was Ten who entered the coffee shop, and the one who said the name. He approached the seat that was two tables across you, where a man with a black face mask sat, busy typing with his computer prior.

The man pulled down his mask to his chin, revealing his grin. “Ten. What’s up?”

“I’ve been looking for you all over the place! Good thing I called Yukhei, says you were here.”

“He’s always here,"Yukhei answers, carrying a cup of coffee to their table. "Every single day.”

“Except Sundays and Saturdays,” Xiaojun corrected, taking the cup of black coffee and sipping from it.

“Except Sundays and Saturdays,"Yukhei repeated.

You couldn’t believe it.

You’re here every single day too, except Sundays and Saturdays.

You see this man across you every single day, probably studying too, but you just didn’t pay attention. How could you recognize him when you couldn’t see his face? He’s either wearing a black mask like today, only revealing his eyes and eyebrows, or he’s wearing a cap or a hoodie.

Turns out it was Xiaojun all along?

"Anyway, I came here to tell you that we’re going out tonight. Wanna come?”

“Mmm, where?”

“The nightclub, of course.”

There was a look of hesitation in his eyes, and he opened his mouth to speak but he was cut off by Ten.

“Don’t be such a fucking pussy and just come.”

“I’m not a 'fucking pussy’, Ten, I’ve got exams tomorrow.”

“You always got something due tomorrow!” Ten whines.“There would be a lot of hot chicks, I promise.”

“Not interested.”

“Oh right. When are you ever interested? You’re not even interested with Chaeyeon, and that girl has a hot bod.”

Xiaojun was silent. Ten continued.

“She practically begs for you to sleep with her every single chance she gets and you don’t even budge. What’s wrong with you? Don’t tell me you’re more of an MILF guy?”

“I’m not."Xiaojun looks at him, distaste evident in his features."Can you just shut up already?”

“For all I know, he’s gay."Yukhei comments from the counter.

Wait. That actually makes sense.

You blinked, then hid your face in your hands, as if you’re caught eavesdropping in their conversation. Your eyes widened so round it was like you’ve put in the final piece to a puzzle even if there was no puzzle to begin with.

What if Xiaojun was gay?

Oh my god, Chaeyeon would be really hurt about this. You let out an excited squeal, but then froze. You were too enthusiastic about your new found information you couldn’t control yourself. What if they heard you?

You raised your head to see if anyone caught on to that but it seems like they were too bothered to even notice you.

But now, Xiaojun was glaring at Ten.

"I just don’t have anyone in mind at the moment, and unlike you dumbasses, I actually respect women.”

Yukhei and Ten exchanged glances before they laughed.

“Whatever, dude,"Ten stands up then heads for the door.

"We respect women too, but by making them feel good."Yukhei says while raising his brows suggestively."We love women.”

“Too bad Dejun can’t relate,” Ten laughs one more time before opening the door and leaving.

Xiaojun pursued his lip into a thin line, seemingly defeated. He then looked around to see if anyone has heard their conversation, and that was where you got caught. His eyes met yours.

He immediately put his mask back on before slumping on his chair then started typing quite aggressively on his laptop, but the mask wasn’t enough to hide his redenning ears.

You couldn’t help the corners of your lips from rising.

***

Lecture Hall C was still half full and your prof hasn’t arrived yet when you sat down on your usual seat. You yawned, before resting your head on your table. You just wanted everything to end just to crawl under your covers and hibernate.

It’s because you couldn’t sleep last night.

You’ve thought hard, but you just couldn’t think of a great plan to break the news to Chaeyeon.

Do I just write on a piece of paper saying Xiaojun is gay and pass it around class?

What if I crawl into Ten and Yukhei’s pants just to dig up more information about him to post into social media anonymously?

But you didn’t want to risk too much for yourself. Also, nothing seemed to be that amazing of a plan, everything was either too boring or used countless of times in movies.

“I’m here again,"you heard Dahyun cheekily say as you felt her presence beside you."Let me copy from you, I know you reviewed our lessons.”

“Great."you sighed exasperatedly, sitting up straight.

"Okay, I have something to say.”

You knew once Dahyun started talking, she wouldn’t stop, and that meant distraction so before she could even tell the story she’s about to say, you whack her head with your notebook.

“Ow… What the hell?”

“Shut up.”

“But I haven’t even said anything yet!”

“Shut up!”

“Let me talk!”

“No!” You whack her head again with your notebook, and she gasped.

“How dare you??”

She wrestled the notebook out of your hand to prevent you from hitting her again, and once she finally did, she planned revenge. She throws your notebook at you, but you blocked it with your arm and so it flew further back.

Dahyun gasped. You widened your eyes. Somebody was hit.

You turned around to look at the most unfortunate person.

Xiaojun was caressing his forehead, his left hand clutching the notebook. He first glares at the notebook before looking around to look for the one who did it. You immediately looked the other way back and froze, hoping that you don’t get suspected. The last thing you want was a confrontation today!

But the people near you guys(or at least the one who saw) were making it hard for you by starting to say 'oooohs’ and other teasing remarks accompanied with knowing looks and smirks, which you reacted at badly. This is so embarrassing!

Your first instinct was to look around and see if Chaeyeon saw.

She didn’t. She was at the front row, reviewing lessons from her laptop. You sighed almost dramatically in relief.

And then you hit Dahyun again, with your fist on her arm, to which she squeaked at.

“Stop hitting me!”

“You’re such an idiot! Get my notebook back!”

“Alright, alright! I’ll get it back for you."she held her hands up in defense from your fighting stance."I’m sorry, okay? I’ll get it back, just don’t hit me!”

“You better.”

“Even though I shouldn’t be apologizing because you hit me first…”

“What did you say?”

“Don’t hit me!"she immediately answered.

***

The class has ended. You still let Dahyun copy from you by using the pencil case technique where you put a piece of paper of your answers in your pencil case then pass it on to her where she pretended to look for something for the past hour, all done without raising suspicion.

Dahyun stood up, but you hadn’t forgotten. You held her wrist tightly, making her flinch.

"What now!?”

“My notebook.”

She blinked. Then grinned shyly. “Oh. Yeah. I almost forgot.”

You rolled your eyes on her, before releasing her wrist.

“Wait here."she says, but before she could even take one step away from you, a voice had stopped her.

”(Y/n)?“

You turned to the voice, and saw it was Xiaojun’s.

And he was holding up your notebook.

You and Dahyun reflected the same terrified expression.

"Y-Yes?”

“This is yours.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a fact. This was the only time you regretted writing your name on the front page, at the back, at the side, then at the cover.

“Yes, it is,” you stood up then walked to him.

“She threw it at you!” Dahyun suddenly blurted out, and you turned to look at her, gasping.

You immediately turned to the male in front of you.“I did not!”

But his unreadable expression was making you doubt yourself too.

“I swear on my life I didn’t, Dahyun did!”

“She did it on purpose!”

This woman–

“It’s okay.”

Your plans of strangling Dahyun was cancelled, and you blinked at Xiaojun, who run a hand through his hair.

Your unconvinced expression made him crack an assuring smile, before handing your notebook to you.

“I said, it’s okay.”

You accepted your notebook, but still doubtful.

“Really, it’s okay. Accidents happen.”

He gave you two one last smile before going out.

You stood there, looking at his retreating figure until you couldn’t see him anymore.

“Looks like I didn’t have to get your notebook for you after all.” Dahyun says, walking to your side.

And your reflex was to hit her again on her head with your notebook.

“Ow!!”

“You fucking b–”

***

The stay at the coffee shop was mundane as always.

Of course, because of the commotion earlier, you couldn’t help but look for Xiaojun, but you couldn’t find him.

A thought even wandered in your mind. What if he just had a concussion? If you damaged his skull? Is he dead?

But you knew you were overthinking things. He probably just went somewhere and you shouldn’t really try to know because in the first place, it wasn’t your business. So you resumed reviewing, but you were off today. You couldn’t focus on anything and your mind just wanted you to catch some Zs, so you decided to wrap it up and leave 45 minutes in.

As if seeing your childhood best friend, Nancy, on the way to the dorm wasn’t surprising enough, there came another by the time you arrived to your dorm.

You entered silently, setting your shoes first at the doorway before putting on your fluffy slippers. You yawned, mind about to drift far away, until Kun’s voice brought you back to earth.

“Just tell her that you like her.”

You frowned. Like what? Like who?

“It’s easy for you to say,”

Hey, isn’t that..?

You didn’t want to assume, but you’re positive. But just to make sure, you creeped slowly until you’re at the end of the wall beside you, then bent to sneak a glance on the two people talking. Are they just two people?

They were.

Kun was sitting comfily on his swirly chair, while his friend sat on his bed, chin resting on the pillow he was hugging close to his chest.

You were right.

“It’s easy because I had the courage.”

“I don’t have the courage!” Xiaojun says.

It was really a surprise to see him here. He wasn’t at the coffee shop earlier because he was here all this time?

“Why not though? I mean you’re obviously so into her.”

Into who?

Xiaojun went silent. You frowned. Her? So it’s a girl. He’s not gay? But who the hell was it?

“If you don’t do it, I’ll do it.”

“Don’t.”

“…Okay.”

What if he’s finally into Chaeyeon? You shook your head. No way. That’s just bullshit.

“I mean because what if she rejects me?”

Okay. Totally not Chaeyeon.

“Rejects you? Well who knows, but I know her. She’s chill.”

Kun knows her?

You couldn’t help but grin in excitement. You were about to know something really useful to hurt Chaeyeon! She would really be devastated once she knew about this, so devastated she might actually just hole herself up in her room the whole year–

“She’s chill, but I’m still worried. I think everytime I’m around her I become a huge idiot. What if she thinks I’m such a loser right now?”

Are you hearing this right? Xiaojun belittling himself? You cocked your head to the side. He’s this nervous, maybe it’s because he’s a little inexperienced with things like these. Well, you couldn’t blame him, he was so into his studies. If anything though, he doesn’t look stupid at all, he’s just boring.

“You are if you don’t tell her what’s on your mind.”

Xiaojun just sighed at Kun’s advice.

Your heartbeat seemed to quicken a bit in excitement. Who? Who is it? Why don’t they just say the name already?

“Let’s not… Talk about this anymore. I’m getting stressed.” Xiaojun falls into Kun’s bed face down, making Kun laugh.

“Okay, whatever.”

You wanted to scream in frustration. What the hell?

You were this close. This close. But they just had to drop the subject?!

You just wasted your time. You wanted to get out and get some fresh damned air.

You turned back, removing your bunny slippers, then wore your shoes once again.

“(Y/n) (L/n) will be the death of you.”

“She really would be.”

W–

You tripped, but still managed to regain balance when you held on the door’s doorknob–but you still hit your head on the door, causing a commotion.

“Who’s there?” Both the boys asked as you heard them make movements. You cursed under your breath.

***

Part 2 ->

[nightskyhoseok]

Desire (M)

Request: Request: namjoon with 3, 14 and 68 🤔 thank you love! 😘

Pairing: Namjoon x reader Genre: Smut, Best Friend to Lovers!AU Warnings: masturbation (f), big dick Namjoon, dom!Namjoon, unprotected sex (be safe y’all), light dirty talk, pretty tame for the most part Word Count: 1.5K

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It was no secret you had a crush on your roommate, Namjoon. All of your friends and even his friends knew it, but it seemed he was too oblivious to notice, despite everyone’s constant teasing and jokes about the two of you. Though it seems like such a thing would bother you, you actually didn’t mind it. If Namjoon never knew your feelings for him, things wouldn’t become complicated in the long run. You were, after all, his best friend, and it wouldn’t be surprising if you chose to live together after college.

You let out a loud sigh, scrolling through the movie section of Netflix aimlessly, the remote loose in your hand. Your cheek was pressed up against the pillow and your arm was losing feeling underneath you. You shifted and laid on your back, twisting your neck to look at the TV. Finally, after minutes of deliberation, you chose to watch a stupid romance movie. 

You honestly hadn’t expected the movie to be so emotionally investing, but instead of rolling your eyes at every character, you were biting your nails in anticipation, waiting for the two main characters to finally get together. When it finally happened, you found yourself sighing in relief. 

Of course, the fact that there was a sex scene didn’t go unnoticed. Something inside you switched off, and your mind wandered to Namjoon, thinking about the way he looked when he left for class this morning. His hair was messy and he wore a see through black shirt, perfectly showing off his muscles. His jeans were so tight, you had to force yourself to look anywhere else than his crotch.

As the two main characters fell into bed and into one another, you found yourself slipping a hand down your shorts to rub yourself through your panties, a small moan escaping your lips. You turned your head back and rested it against the armrest, shutting your eyes as you lost yourself in a world of pleasure, eventually sliding your hands past your panties to swipe at your dripping slit with a finger.

You pushed your finger in, thumb teasing at your bundle of nerves, and you arched your back slightly, the image of Namjoon flashing in your mind. God, what you would give to have his fingers in you instead of yours. The thought made you curse under your breath, along with a whisper of Namjoon’s name. 

You picked up the pace, inserting another finger as you bit your lip to surprise your moan, but ultimately failed at the thought of Namjoon hovering above you, doing this to you instead. 

“Namjoon-“ You choked out a moan, tilting your head back. You were so lost in your world of pleasure that you didn’t even hear the front door open, and it took a few seconds to register the voice that followed.

“Y/N?”

You shot your eyes open to see Namjoon standing in the doorway, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. Shocked from the sudden intrusion, you yanked your hand out of your shorts and covered yourself with a blanket, heat flushing to your face.

“Fuck, when did you get home?” You cursed, looking anywhere except his face.

“You just moaned my name,” Namjoon said, a smug smirk taking over his demeanor. 

“You must be hearing things,” You denied, beginning to roll back over to the TV to exit the movie, the main characters moaning loudly on the screen. 

“Then am I wrong if I say you were touching yourself to the thought of me?”

You froze, and ever so slowly looked at him as he walked toward you, darkness filling his eyes. You gulped and rushed to your feet, trying to get up and leave when Namjoon pulled your back by your wrist and connected your lips. 

You froze in shock again as he moved his lips against yours, but easily melted into the kiss after a moment. Namjoon cupped your face and tilted his head, deepening the kiss. He swiped his tongue on your lower lip, asking for permission, which you gladly granted him. Your tongues fought as his hands travelled down your body, eventually landing on your ass to squeeze it. You jolted and moaned into the kiss, earning a low groan from Namjoon. 

He pulled away, resting his forehead on yours as he took a moment to catch his breath. He smiled and sat you down on the couch, pushing you gently to lay you down before climbing over you, hands roaming over your body. Namjoon leaned down and attached his lips to your neck, sucking until he left a bruise. Your fingers gripped at his hair, pulling slightly. He hissed and nipped your skin, mumbling against your neck.

“Don’t tease me, baby girl,” He warned. Curious to see what happened, you pulled at his hair again. Namjoon cursed and pulled away, standing up to strip out of his clothes. Your eyes immediately landed on his cock, and you felt yourself clench around nothing at his size.

“Fuck your cock is so big, I don’t think it’ll fit,” You said nervously. Namjoon laughed and climbed back over you, tugging down your shorts and panties swiftly as he spoke.

“You can take it, baby,” Namjoon hummed, looking at your glistening core before swiping his fingers over your slit, making you shudder out a moan. “Can’t you?”

You nodded, gripping at his arm beside you as he positioned himself between your folds, sliding the head of his cock up and down, coating it in your arousal. 

“Namjoon, please,” You whined, wanting to just feel him inside you already. He hummed and slowly slid inch by inch into you, a loud moan falling past your lips at the feeling of him stretching you out so perfectly. Your walls gripped him as he slid in until you were completely full to the hilt. 

“Fuck,” Namjoon moaned, throwing his head back slightly. He gave you a moment to adjust, then pulled his hips back just to snap them forward again. You cried out, digging your nails into his arm at the feeling of him finally inside you. You bit your lip as Namjoon set a steady pace, thrusting in and out of you with ease due to your wetness. His cock filled you deliciously, you never wanted him to leave you. 

Then, it was like something switched on in Namjoon. Maybe it was the way you were weighing underneath him or the feeling of your walls gripping his cock, but he suddenly sped up, ramming into you with no remorse. 

“Fuck! Namjoon, fuck-“ You moaned, arching your back as he pounded into you, small grunts accompanying each thrust. He rolled his hips against yours, pushing deep into you. “Don’t go so deep!”

“Fuck, baby. You feel so good. So tight,” Namjoon moaned, leaning down to kiss you as he continued his thrusts, sending your body jolting with his movements. You moaned into his mouth, hands gripping the back of his neck, relishing in the feeling of him ramming into you without mercy. 

When he hit your g-spot, your legs began to tremble and his name fell from your lips as you threw your head back, squinting your eyes shut.

“Aw, your legs are trembling~ does it feel that good?” Namjoon smirked, watching you unravel beneath him. You nodded furiously, fingers dragging down his back hard enough that you knew there would be marks the next day. 

“Yes! Yes, so good! Namjoon, oh my god!” You cried out. Namjoon gripped your hips and slowed his pace, letting you know he was close, and by the way you were clenching around him, he knew you were close too.

You felt a coil beginning to form in your lower stomach as Namjoon pushed in and out of you, his hips stuttering slightly.

“Fuck. You gonna cum, baby?” Namjoon moaned, hand teasing your clit. You whimpered out a small ‘yes’ and gripped at the couch. When Namjoon hit your sweet spot and pinched your clit at the same time, you absolutely lost it, and found yourself screaming out his name as you released yourself around him. 

The feeling of you clenching around him had him groaning, bringing him to his release as well. He pulled out of you and stroked himself a few times, then released himself on your stomach, white strips of cum painting your skin. 

You both sat there, heavy breaths filling the room when Namjoon suddenly leaned over to kiss you, his hand cupping your face. You smiled and kissed him back before pulling away, whispering against his lips.

“I can’t say I’m mad you came home early,” You laughed. Namjoon pecked your lips and smiled back.

“Me either,” He said. “Do you have classes tomorrow?”

“No, I’m free.”

“Good. We’re going on a date. Wear something nice. Preferably something that shows off your ass now that it’s finally mine.”

You laughed and kissed him, wondering why you ever fell in love with this loser in the first place.

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Masterlist • YouTube • Instagram • Discord

[ghostroclus]

Two beards are better than one: Chapter 1

Description: A crossover fic between Stranger Things and It, Two beards are better than one tells the story of Richie Tozier who has been living with his "girlfriend" Robin Buckley since he returned from Derry. They seem like the average couple, always bickering and gushing at eachother so you would never guess that they aren't actually dating. A favor that turns into a sexuality cover up for the both of them seems pretty easy until the Losers come down for one of Richie's shows.

Disclaimer: The timeline takes place so that Richie and the rest of the Losers were Robin and Steve's age when Season 3 of Stranger Things took place. They are older then The Campaign (Stranger Things main group) and met because Mike Hanlon told them about Hawkins and the conspiracies.

It was around 8:00 in the morning. The bright light peaked through the curtains which caused an irritating glow to sting Richie's face. He grumbled, hesitantly sitting up from bed before rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Robin, I thought it was your turn to close the blinds." 

He felt the bed shift as someone to the other side of the mattress moved. There was a high pitched noise, one that sounded almost like a whine as the woman next to him woke up. "Forgot to, I was out with Steve all night" she said. Her words were slurrred and minimal, usually the case with Robin, she wasn't much of a morning person. 

"Oh right, how was it? Does he still refuse to cut the hair? I'm pretty sure he only keeps it because he knows it's the only reason he still gets ladies" Richie said, laughing lazily as he threw his legs over the side of the bed and tried got up. 

Robin yawned. "Yeah, you're one to talk. You still won't cut you're hair. It's like you're emotionally attached to it or something." 

"I'll cut my hair as soon as you start liking men" he grinned 

"Drop dead" 

"Only for you sweet heart" 

-    - - 

Since Richie was a famous comedian, which Robin always disagreed with, the public was often enthralled with his life, specifically his romantic life. The thing was, Richie didn't think he was ready to announce his sexuality. Years off repression and trauma made him build a wall that even he didn't know how to break. 

Although, there was one thing that kept the press out of his love life and kept his dirty secret hidden from the rest of the world and she just so happened to be nursing a coffee on the stool across from him. Robin was a lesbian herself and though she wasn't as afraid to come out as he was she still wasn't sure about how accepting the world would be. 

They had made a plan several years prior, they would "date" eachother to keep both of their sexuality's a secret. Robin was his beard and he was her's. It was a fair deal, he had owed her since the summer he went to their town and helped her and her friends take down a monster. It was no big deal, just your every day summer experience. 

"So, how are things going back in Hawkins?" Richie asked, trying to start conversation. 

Robin shrugged. "Well Steve said Will got a job." 

"Oh yeah? I was talking to the little punk the other day, apperently that's not the only thing he got" 

"Okay, alright. Will got a boyfriend. Man, I wish I was as brave as that kid" Robin sighed, running her hand through her hair. 

Richie nodded "Yeah, you will be. I'm sure eventually we won't have to hide anymore" It was false hope, he knew that. He wasn't even sure if he believed what he was saying.

Robin smiled, appreciating the support. "Oh, Steve wanted me to tell you that he's going to your show next week."

"Oh really? I'll make sure to throw in a bunch of jokes about him in my act." 

"Hey, don't be too mean. He just broke up with his girlfriend" 

"Again! God damn! That man goes through girlfriends like he goes through hair products" 

Robin almost spit out her coffee. "That- That was a good one" 

"Yeah, I know. That's why I become a comedian, boy wonder" Richie quipped. 

Robin shook her head vigorously. "How did your friends put up with you? Hey, speaking of your friends, when am I gonna meet them? I've heard so much about them, especially-" 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Geez, they're gonna be at the show-"

It was Robin's turn to cut Richie off. "They are!? Tozier, Tozier, Tozier, I'm so excited. Why didn't you tell me sooner???? " 

"Bill just called me last night, said he was gonna fly down tommorow."

"Well is he bringing Audra?" 

"No, she got another acting gig but I sent her your regards" Richie smirked, mimicing a kissing face

"Richard Elizabeth Tozier, there is only one woman for me and you know that" Robin huffed, crossing her arms 

Richie scoffed "Oh yeah? Miss Thompson is it? The one who sings like a muppet-"

"Have you been spending time with Steve behind my back??"

"That's not the point, the point is she isn't good for you. Honey, if she really loved you she wouldn't be sleeping with the first guy she saw. She was head over heels for Harrington in High School and she's head over heels for him now."

"You didn't go to the same high school as me, what do you know about her?" She asked, getting a little offended on Tammy's behalf.

Richie raises his hands in surrender. "All I'm saying is you deserve better. Someone lovely woman who actually cares about you" 

Robin sighed "Yeah, well what about you? You shouldn't be giving me advice on pining over something that's never gonna happen" 

Richie rolled his eyes. "Pffft, yeah I think you had too many drinks last night." He said, brushing off what she had said before changing the subject. "So how about we go on a date night tonight? We can go to that bar you like" 

"Mmm, fine but we're calling an Uber because there is no way either of us are going to stay sober" 

"Deal"

-    -

The next day, the day before his show, Richie was woken up again at an "obscene" time but this time it was to a loud pounding at the door. 

"Ughhh, you get it-" Robin slurred as she covered her ears with the pillow. 

Richie grumbled but got up anyway, stretching as he walked to the front door. 

He opened the door "Yeah, who is it-"

"H-hey Richie!" Someone said. 

Richie rubbed his eyes a couple times to make sure he was seeing correctly. Maybe it was because he had left his glasses but he could have sworn he saw seven people standing in front of his door.

"What the- You guys do realize it's like 6:00 in the morning?" 

"It's almost noon, asshole" someone quipped from the back. 

"Yeah, well maybe your timezone is wrong" 

"W-we all got h-here a few h-hours ago. We d-d-d-" 

"We dropped our stuff off at the hotel and thought it would be nice to come visit you" Mike helped, walking towards the front of the group and putting a reassuring hand on Bill's shoulder 

"Richie, I swear if you're trying to scare away another door to door salesman you're gonna have to be really flamboy- Oh shit" Robin said, mumbling the last part. "Hey! You must be our new neighbors! Yeah, we were going to come over and-"

"Oh, no they aren't the neighbors" Richie laughed nervously. "These are my friends, the ones I was telling you about-" 

"Oh my gosh! This is them??? This is the Losers Club? Which one is-"

"Yes! These are the Losers, now you've met. Well, it's been great seeing you guys but me and Robin are a little busy right now-"

"Oh, nonsense. Why don't you invite your friends in? I haven't even formally introduced myself."

Richie smiled awkwardly "Could you just give me and Robin a minute?" He excused himself before walking back inside the house with Robin, closing the door before looking back at her.

"What are you doing?" He asked 

"Well I'm trying to be a good girlfriend and get to know your friends" Robin argued, seeming clearly annoyed. 

"Well it seems like you're trying to out me-"

"Hey! I know what Connor did to you when you were a kid but I'm not Connor, I wouldn't do that to you! You need to trust me, okay." 

Richie sighed "Yeah, yeah I guess. I'm sorry...I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions I-"

"Alright just shut up, your friends are gonna get tired from standing outside for so long." 

 

Richie smiled, reaching for the doorknob before Robin tapped him on the shoulder.

"I do have one question, about the red-head". 

"Straight, straight, straight" Richie whispered as he opened the door. 

Robin looked at him and smirked. "Yeah? So are-"

"Her husband is standing right next to her, dumbass. I wouldn't recommend making any moves" Richie continued before looking back at his friends. "Sorry, for the delay. Why don't you guys come inside? You can meet my lovely girlfriend" 

[lowplainlowinthemorning]

You don't have to answer this if you don't want to but what's up with the Courtney Love controversy? Why are people accusing her of manipulation or whatever? I'm totally new to this discussion

hey darling!! no worries, I love discussing Kurt & Court bc theyre my surrogate parents and they emotionally raised me when I had a difficult relationship w my Mom and Dad, plus I’m named after Kurt and he’s part of the reason I realized my ~gender~, so needless to say I have a surplus of information on them. Plus their music fucks. anyways, this is gonna be a masterpost-

my credentials(sources I have taken my information and formed my opinion on Kurt & Court’s relationship from if u need to look into them):

-Heavier Than Heaven(Book by Charles Cross, authorized by Kurt’s estate. Charles Cross is a well known grunge/music historian and has literally devoted his life to researching and writing rockstar biographies, including several on Nirvana. One of my favorite books ever.)

- Montage Of Heck(Documentary on Kurt’s life. Produced by his daughter, Frances. I have some heavy criticisms of this film and of the interviews in it, but it does have some reflections on Kurt and Courtney’s relationship that I think are important.)

- Hit So Hard(a documentary on Hole’s drummer, Patty Schemel. Minor discussions of Kurt and Kurt and Courtney.)

- Verse Chorus Verse(Fan-made documentary series on Kurt’s life, widely regarded by Nirvana fans the most in depth play-by-play biography that exists- and it’s free on YouTube, which is lit.)

sources I don’t pull from, but many younger Nirvana fans do(the people who buy into the conspiracies generally):

Kurt and Courtney- A documentary made in the late 90’s under the guise of biography, but is actually about the conspiracy theory that Courtney killed Kurt. I saw it when I was a new fan and I literally laughed out loud from how apeshit it was.

Soaked In Bleach- ‘Biopic’ about Courtney killing Kurt. I haven’t seen it but straight men who think Courtney is ugly take it more seriously than the Bible. Very little truth ever goes into these theories, besides maybe names and dates.

Anything Hank Harrison(Courtney’s father) has to say- He wrote a book on the subject. He also gave her acid and lost custody of her when she was three years old. He’s a shit parent and I doubt he’s actually seen his daughter since the 80’s.

Anything Buzz Osborne(Kurt’s friend, singer for the Melvins, a band Kurt looked up to in Montesano) says- I think Buzz’s opinion is taken way too seriously by a lot of the fan base, I read an interview of his criticizing Montage Of Heck because Kurt ‘didn’t really have a stomach disease’ and was just lying about it to get high, and also about how he hated having to see Courtney naked, and made a good long point about how disgusting her body is. IOn top of all that(none of which really has to do with critiquing the film...?), he mocked Kurt and called him a loser for committing suicide. I don’t care what your opinion on his stomach, his wife, or his music is, that shit is callous and idiotic, but totally reflective of the 70’s and 80’s mentality regarding the mentally ill. He’s part of the legion of pretentious punk dudes who *kind of* knew Kurt, who think Courtney’s the one who ‘corrupted’ him, which brings me around to answering your question.

So, there’s this idea regarding Kurt and Courtney’s relationship, which is pretty similar to the one surrounding Sid and Nancy’s(or at least used to.) Courtney is the whiny, annoying, petulant bitch who attached herself to the first trophy she could find, and through her terrible manipulative personality kept him with her and kept him from getting better. In this mode of thinking, She’s also the person who ‘started’ him on drugs, and in a few people’s eyes, the person who ‘forced’ him to have Frances.

The reality of the situation, as I see it, as someone who’s gone to pretty decent lengths to inform themselves on the subject, is that Kurt and Courtney’s relationship was toxic: But the toxicity was mutual. This doesn’t mean they were a “problematic” couple, or that they were abusing each other, or even that either one of them was ‘evil’, it means that they fell deeply in love as young trauma survivors with substance abuse issues and huge ambitions. That’s a lot to put on any relationship and it’s a lot to talk about, so I’m gonna split this into categories of complaints that you’ll hear pretty routinely as a new Nirvana/Hole fan.

1. “She got him into drugs!”

Courtney started on heroin in the late 80’s in L.A., when she was still playing with Sugar Baby Doll(her band with Jennifer Finch and Kat Bjelland). Kurt, as said in Heavier Than Heaven, tried heroin for the first time around 1988-1989(I don’t remember exactly.) At the time, he was still living with(though I don’t believe they were still dating) Tracy Marander. Because he was destitute, he didn’t have enough money to start forming an actual habit until Nevermind started gaining speed, and by the time he and Courtney started dating(they met a couple of times and phoned a couple of times before cementing a relationship) he had been taking it for a while. That’s the thing I think people look over when it comes to Kurt- He was embarrassed about his addiction and he hated the physical side effects, but he loved heroin.

Courtney says in Montage Of Heck that she had both tried and kicked heroin by the time she met Kurt, but I think the Heavier Than Heaven description is probably more accurate: That she did heroin socially, and her addiction worsened after the two of them began living together because Kurt was(in her own words) ‘obsessed with oblivion.’ She also said in Montage Of Heck that his dream was to ‘Get to three million dollars and become a junkie.’ She’s stated several times that her drug problems came out of a need for ‘comfort’, and Kurt was into getting so fucked he couldn’t do anything else(also confirmed by his friend, Dylan Carlson, who was also into heroin and did it with him often.)

On top of that, Courtney was the one who orchestrated interventions for Kurt, went through the process of reviving him when he’d overdosed, and broke his syringes/scared off his dealers to try and keep drugs away from him as much as possible. At one point, she even made a rule that no drugs were to be done in the house- So he started renting motel rooms and doing them there. It was she who was the head of his final intervention before he went missing.

If anything, Courtney is the person who tried her hardest to keep drugs away from both of them. Considering how much people still talk about her doing heroin while pregnant(which occurred very early on before she was aware of her condition), Kurt is the person who struggled the most to stay off drugs during her pregnancy and after Frances’ birth, even going so far as to hide in the bathroom from her while she was struggling with morning sickness so she wouldn’t know he was getting high.

2. “She manipulated him into dating her/marrying her!”

Here’s the thing about Courtney; She is an enigmatic, entertaining, talented, maternal individual. Here’s the thing about Kurt; He’s a shy, quiet, non-confrontational guy with mommy issues. There’s been a lot of discussion on how Courtney was ‘obsessed’ with Kurt, and how she wouldn’t rest until she pinned him down: That’s untrue, or at least it reads less like crazy-bitch-steals-rock-god and more like cute-singer-has-crush-on-fellow-cute-singer. She was really into him, but when she met him she was still dating Billy Corgan, which deterred her from pursuing him until that relationship(basically) dissolved. When Kurt met her, he had just gotten out of a relationship with Tobi Vail, which most likely fell apart because she refused to be what Tracy Marander had been for him. She wasn’t interested in caring for him and she wasn’t interested in a full-time monogamous relationship. She was working too hard at her own career and was way too involved in the burgeoning riot grrrl movement to worry about looking after Kurt Cobain. That just wasn’t going to work for him.

Kurt was a big believer in the nuclear family model, he was very monogamous, and besides that he lacked the ability to physically take care of himself. If he wasn’t living with a partner who would clean up the house and remind him to wash his hair, it just didn’t happen. He was chronically ill, depressed, and he’d spent most of his adolescence AWOL from anyone who would actually raise him, so Tobi’s rejection deeply hurt him for a number of reasons- While Courtney, the opposite of Tobi in a few key ways, was exactly what he wanted. On top of looking like the archetypical punk girl, “I was attracted to her because she looked like Nancy Spungen,” she had a maternal streak (In Montage Of Heck, when he’s found sitting beside her while she cuts his hair, and, typical for people living with Kurt, mentions that she cleans the house because ‘nobody else fuckin does.’) Early on in their relationship, Kurt had a meltdown and begged Courtney to come to his apartment. She did, and looked after him the rest of the night, a pattern which would become common for them, and was stated by her half sister to be the ‘original strain on the relationship.’

Besides her mothering elements, Courtney was brassy and loud, and her presence allowed him to be less introverted and freer with himself. She was an ambitious young musician who shared a similar childhood to him, and had the same yearning for a safe home life that he did. She was well-read and artistic, and introduced him to the literary side of music creation, which he hadn’t explored yet. After spending a night on the phone with her, he went around telling everybody she was ‘the coolest girl in the world,’ and broke off another burgeoning relationship with Mary Lou Lord on live TV after spending the night with her. The famous quote, “Courtney Love is the best fuck in the world.” is in fact real. And yeah, he could’ve handled that one better.

The attraction was mutual, and I find it hard to believe that Kurt was ever forced into anything romantic with her based on how well she suited his tastes.

3. “She used him for his fame/money!”

As stated above, Courtney was attracted to Kurt before Nevermind was even recorded, and if she wanted to marry a famous dude right out the gate, at the time they met there were plenty of people who were way more famous than Kurt. In Heavier Than Heaven she mentions really liking their song “Dive,” and later in life she mentioned hearing “Sliver” and being impressed with Kurt’s writing abilities. Both of those songs were released a solid two years before Nevermind. She was interested in Kurt because he was cute and talented and she was savvy in the music scene, meaning that she kept up with underground bands.

Now, a point of contention between Kurt & Courtney was their different attitudes towards fame. That is entirely true. Courtney wanted to be famous, enjoyed celebrity, loved attention, and could handle touring, press, and the craziness of success. She was very charismatic, very physically strong, and let’s face it, definitely an attention whore. Kurt liked being praised, he liked being successful, and he definitely had a thing for attention- But he hated pressure, he had inferiority issues, he didn’t know how to handle his life being pried into all the time, and he wasn’t strong enough to do massive tours. Courtney just didn’t understand that, which is pretty common if someone doesn’t share your same mental illness/physical illness: Touring hurt Kurt’s stomach, it worsened his anxiety and emotional instability, it wore his body out, it didn’t agree with him. He loved playing live but couldn’t handle the mania or the travelling, meaning he didn’t mind blowing off huge tours that would bring in loads of money. Courtney, who did feel envious and intimidated regarding his success, would get angry at him for that- She didn’t want him to blow off massive paychecks and press coverage because it’s not what she would’ve done. I definitely side with Kurt on this, nothing is more frightening and frustrating than people trying to force you to do things you can’t handle health-wise. Courtney, being naturally business-oriented, was also aware of how things appeared to the public, and definitely cared about their image more than Kurt did- One of their fights revolved around her nagging him about how important the “Heart-Shaped Box” music video would be for him, and how he should look good. He reacted by stubbing out a cigarette on his forehead and saying, “Do I look fucking good enough for you now?”

So yeah, Courtney, like a lot of people in Kurt’s life, was all about furthering his career and success. A lot of people read that as her being money-hungry or manipulative, in my opinion it’s just a natural response from a person who’s spent their whole life trying to be a success and wouldn’t really get there until 1994. I think some of it was envy and I think some of it was her using him a little vicariously, neither of which are healthy but neither of which are malicious, either. She wanted to be a rockstar, she was ready to be a rockstar, she wasn’t; He thought he’d wanted to be a rockstar, he didn’t really want to, he was.

4. “She emotionally abused him!”

I hate to say this because I love Kurt so much but, as someone who’s been through a codependent relationship where they were bailing water out of a sinking boat, Kurt’s behavior throughout their marriage set off way more red flags for me than Courtney’s did. I don’t think he was actually abusive, but I do think he was a little too underdeveloped and unresolved to be married to someone. He had to grow up slower than everyone else because he missed out on having concrete mature influences, which Courtney did as well, and like I said earlier I think a lot of their problems came through a lack of adult communication skills. Both of them were really jealous people: Courtney couldn’t stand Kurt talking about Mary Lou Lord or Tobi Vail, Kurt was completely convinced that Courtney was cheating on him with Billy Corgan(even going so far as to talk to their lawyer about a divorce shortly before he died.) This was the catalyst for a lot of mind games and unnecessary drama, especially coming from Kurt.

Kurt couldn’t handle conflict. He was really passive aggressive, and would do things to purposely piss Courtney off or communicate to her that he was displeased. While she was trying to stay clean he would declare that he was going to do drugs in the apartment, when she started talking to a psychic to help her with her problems he mocked her and put her down, when she staged his final intervention his entire argument against rehab was that she was just as ‘fucked up’ as he was(she had already agreed to go into rehab, though whether he was aware of this or not I’m not sure.) He made his first suicide attempt by overdosing on Rohypnol on their wedding anniversary because she took some pills and fell asleep and he decided that meant she wasn’t interested in him anymore. I’m not arguing that that’s an irrational response to your partner getting stoned and falling asleep, especially when he’d apparently set the night up to be as romantic as possible, but the overdose put him in a coma and sent Courtney into hysterics.

Her mental health began to decline due to paranoia that he’d end up dead, and her weight dropped due to the added stress. As someone who’s been through a pretty similar situation to that and exhibited the same symptoms, I can tell you that it is never okay to use a suicide attempt to deal with a perceived injustice from your partner. By this time, Kurt was facing either getting clean or dying, and his behavior was very depressed and erratic, so there are explanations for the way he was acting and I don’t think he was trying to manipulate her with a threat. Despite my understanding of that, there is nothing more exhausting than being the caretaker of someone who is hellbent on never getting better. I can’t imagine being the caretaker of someone who won’t stop until they’re dead, and I do think at that point it would’ve been better for them to separate.

But that isn’t to say Courtney wasn’t toxic herself, I’m not trying to paint a wholly negative image of Kurt here. I’m merely trying to stand in the way of Nirvana fanboys who have no grasp on the more sickly sides of his personality, and give Court a bit of a break. Definitely, she struggled with her jealousy: As stated, she never wanted his ex girlfriends mentioned around her and would tear them apart if they were. She was ambitious and career driven, which eroded a lot of her platonic relationships/working relationships as well her marriage to Kurt. She was one of the people who was pushing him to recover in time to play Lollapalooza, and she was one of the people who pushed him into his last stunted tour before his death. She weaponized his relationship with Frances in ways that I and most people agree are gross: She told him he should be playing massive gigs to support his daughter(though their medical and legal bills were big they were hardly poverty stricken), and admitted in an interview later that she called him in rehab once to tell him he’d dropped Frances on her head(She mentioned during this that Frances was wearing a furry hood, and that he didn’t hurt her. In my opinion he was doing his best by even trying rehab again, and that he was already so worried that he was a terrible father that it was just cruel to make him feel worse.)

She has a tendency to be self-obsessed, and to put her own self interest before people she cares about, even if she regrets it later. She struggles herself with mental illness and addiction, both of which tend to give a person poor judgment regarding the people they care about.

Once again, Courtney and Kurt weren’t a healthy couple, but it wasn’t because they were evil or abusive towards one another. They cared for each other deeply, they had a very pure devotion. Underlying all this nastiness were two people who prayed together, wrote together, fantasized about a Valentine’s Day wedding, and faxed each other R-rated love letters like modern versions of James Joyce and Nora Barnacle. During one of his more successful stints in rehab, Kurt wrote Courtney love letters every night(though he did decorate them with blood, wax, and semen.)

They had some serious therapy they needed to attend, the both of them. But 90% of these demonizations of Courtney are either untrue or blown out of proportion.

[jpat82]

Asgardian Heir

CHAPTER 2O

       Your knees buckled to the hardened soil as so as your feet touched the ground. The world around you was spinning and tilting, causing your stomach to do flips. Screw the rainbow bridge crap, you'd rather deal with one where falling off the edge while playing Bowser was your biggest worry. The sound of Led Zeppelin filled your ears as you heard the unmistakable lyrics about the land of the ice and snow, all you did was growl as you finally stood back up.

    Tony stood just a head of Bucky and Sam, the Avengers compound behind them had a giant welcome home banner on it. You rolled your eyes and shook your head, suddenly Sam and Bucky pushed Tony out of the way as they rushed over to you. As the came up to you watched Bucky shove Sam out of the way and wrapped his arms around you.

    "Finally, never thought I'd actually miss that infuriating grimace as much as I did." He said, releasing your tense body. You weren't known for being affectionate, let alone with someone like the Winter Soldier.

     "Move out of the way." Sam snipped shoving the brunette out of the way to give you his own hug. Truth be told you in fact had missed both of them and their consistent bantering, even though you would never let on you were more then happy to see them.

     "Okay you two love struck puppies, move out of the way and let y/n actually come on in." Tony sighed, both men parted out of your path and you walked into the compound. Thor had made an excuse to go back to Asgard, and vanished back the way you had both came.

    "What no regal dresses for us?" Bucky smirked carrying your duffel bag.

     "Barnes, I'd rather shoot myself. Speaking of shooting, when do I get my guns back?" You spun, walking backwards to look at Tony.

     "Soon enough, first the debriefing and the dinner." Tony clipped back, you rolled your eyes.

     "Can I at least get settled in?" You questioned receiving a nod from him.

     What you wanted was just a few minutes to yourself, just you get your mind around everything before being asked questions as to your time on Asgard. After arguing with Bucky and Sam you finally managed to pull the bags from them and made your way back to your room. You opened the door dropping the bags to the side and closed it behind you, resting your head again the cool metal. You sighed to yourself, apart of you felt the worst person on the planet for leaving Loki the way you did.

      You hoped he would understand, that you couldn't become emotionally attached, it would only lead to heartbreak. Maybe if he hated you it would makes things easier, fuck, why on earth did you have to screw around with him.

    "So, I'm guessing by the fact you haven't realized I'm sitting on your bed behind you that your having some internal conflict going on." You head shot up and eyes widen. You didn't even have to turn around to know that the red headed former assassin had that all knowing smirk plastered to her face.

    "Nat." You stated, taking a deep breath before turning, and as predicted she did have that smirk on her face.

    "Guessing you went more then one round with him." She said coyly as you walked over to your closet, you slid the door open to see what clothes had been left behind.

    "I don't know what you mean." You replied calmly, pulling out a clean pair of black tactical pants and a loose grey shirt.

     "Really? Cause maybe the rest of guys didn't notice but I can see the marks on your neck, faint but I can see them." She slowly stated, you could the heat creep up your face.

    "Okay, So I did before I left, is that what you want to hear Natasha? I fucked him one last time before coming back." You snapped turning to face her fully.

    "No, I want to know what your state of mind is right now. Cause you've already spaced out on me since you came into this room. You gone from just about sobbing against the door like a heartbroken school girl to flushing up with embarrassment to lashing out." She sniped out, standing and walking over to you, her eyes nailing you in place. There was no malice in her words, it was like reading a report to her but her eyes told you different story. "I need to make sure that what happened on Asgard doesn't cloud your judgement, cause Cap and Fury have us set up for a new mission at the end of the week. The last thing we need is for you to get all weepy and weak on us."

     You knew what she was saying was true, if you had emotionally compromised it could effect your performance on a mission, but it made your blood boil hearing her say it. You weren't emotionally attached to the God of Mischief, come hell or high water you would never become that way to anyone.

    "Nat, I'm only going to say this once, so listen very closely." You seethed, talking behind gritted teeth, glaring her down. "I am not, nor will I ever be emotionally compromised. What happened on Asgard was just what it was, a good old romp in the hay, you of all people here so understand that."

    The red head crossed her arms, jutting her hip out the side as she looked you up and down. You knew what she was doing, she was attempting to read to you the way she did everyone. The corner of her mouth pulled up before her eyes met yours again, you clenched your fist, wishing you could just take a swing at her. You knew it would be in vain but still it urge was there.

    "Will see about that, y/n, I really hope for your shake you aren't lying to yourself." She stated flatly, walking past you to the door. She swung it open and paused. Looking over her shoulder back at your tense body, you taking slow deep breaths to calm yourself. "It's good to have you back, everyone has missed you."

   The door shut behind you leaving you to stew at her words. You hadn't even been home for an hour and you already needed a good stiff drink, how the hell were you going to handle a debriefing with the Captain. You grabbed the closest item to you, your lamp, and threw it the door allowing part of your rage to manifest.

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