#bugs give me so much fucking anxiety
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fakeoutbf · 2 years ago
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this-doesnt-endd · 4 months ago
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I WENT TO PUT A DISH IN THE SINK AND A ROACH WAS CRAWLING OUT OF IT AND THEN I WALKED BY MY BOOKCASE ABD THERE WAS A FUCKING CRICKET!!!!!!!!!!! I CANNNOT FUCKING DO THIS!!!!!!!!
#i have to go to the store tomorrow like i have to#i need to buy weather stripping since it likely came thru the hole in the corner of my door like that fuck ass worm did#cause both happened after big rains#i need drain cleaner and drain covers and a special drain cover for the bathroom cause the ac unit water comes out into my apts shower#for some fucking reason and i cant have stagnent water if a mosquito gets in here but i cant have anything crawling up that drain#i need hand sanatizer i have like three of the mini bath and body works bottles left#and honestly i use too much cause im putting it up to my elbows and sometimes i use it on my legs and feet cause if i dont#my brain is gonna convince me that im as good as dead#i also need something to trap them that keeps me as far away as possible if i have to get rid of bugs cause im so awful with it#AND BEFORE ANYONE WANTS TO BE A BITCH im sorry i dont like bugs okay if im outside i get it im in the outside its a me issue#i will panic internally but im my house absolteuly fucking not i just cant#and yaknow what i dont know why!!!!!!!#but its a big fear quite possibly verging on real phobia and if u make fun of my im gonna fucking cry#i dont know why its like this noe i uses to hold lady bugs abd worms as a kid no issue this is a recent change in my life#im also afraid of eating yogurt thats best by date was a week ago i know its irrational and i used to NEVER think abt it but now i do#and it gives me so much anxiety but i try not to waste food so i ate that yogurt in tears convinced i was gonna get terminal good poisoning#even tho i knew i wouldnt but i still cant help it it makes me so anxious brings me to tears much like bugs and i dont wanna be doing it#but my brain is wired backwards!!!!!!
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lazyfox411 · 4 months ago
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bbystark · 2 months ago
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♡ simon is a bad stalker part 3 ♡
badstalker!simon x reader series - pt one two
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♡ masterlist ♡ request more! ♡
summary: you take the risk and meet up with your stalker. briefly features soap. mdni
a/n: i'm so sorry this took so long to get out! and thank you to everyone who requested a part 3, you guys keep me motivated. got bit by the productivity bug so expect more fics soon. :) ( @identity2212 )
you're still reeling days after your talk with your stalker. ghost, you think to yourself. a fake name or nickname, no doubt, but at least you have something to call him. a name to put to the silhouette.
he hasn't reached out since the video call, but you know he's most likely still around, whether he's making it known or not.
you're miffed, and starting to think the man has avoidance issues. it's probably one of the tamer things wrong with him.
then one night you're on your porch, lounging with a cup of tea, minding your own business when a black suv rolls up, much like the one that had picked you up the night you were stranded.
you stand when a man steps out of the car, mohawk emphasizing the height and overall largeness of him.
you watch him warily; he walks up to the fence and rests his palms on the edge. you half expect him to open the gate and waltz right up, confidence oozing from him.
but he stays there, giving you a small smile. "you still wanna meet 'im lass?"
of course it was one of his people. you numbly wondered how he knew the biggest men you've ever seen in your life. you know ghost can't be small himself, you'd put that much together seeing how his shoulders were almost bulked out of frame on the video call.
"you're with him?" you hesitate a little, clutching your mug closer to your chest, "with ghost?" he nods.
you're silent, and he lets you be. lord knows he's not planning on taking you kicking and screaming, sure you were a pretty little thing but he about backhanded simon when he found out about you. of course the big idiot was "accidentally" stalking a much too curious woman. he really knew how to pick 'em.
you weigh your options. you know the man is here to take you to ghost, you could infer that much. it's a dumb idea to go, but it was a dumb time last time and it turned out fine. you could tell him to fuck off, send him on his way. he'd probably listen.
you're not ready to admit to yourself that you'd grown use to ghost's presence, and that part of you would miss it if one day he decided to wise up and leave you alone.
you make a decision before you can really realize it. "can I grab my purse?"
° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °
he opens the door of the car for you, and it makes your head spin, you're about to meet your stalker and here you are being treated with the utmost respect. it made no sense. you clutch to your keys, fingers seeking out the self-defense items in the pockets of your purse, trying to ease your anxiety.
he hasn't hurt you yet, not really. you remind yourself. violated an insane number of boundaries, yes, but if anything, you're the safest you've ever been. you even take walks at night now, knowing deep down he's somewhere close keeping you safe from everything. everything but him.
your lost in thought as soap watches you from the rearview. he's starting to see why ghost was so fond of you, you're brave and a little naive. like a kitten against a pitbull. headstrong no doubt, probably a downright brat at times. the thought stirs something in him, and he briefly wonders if simon would be up to sharing one day.
he parks the car and you realize in your anxious thoughts you didn't pay any attention to where you were going, too overwhelmed. and you were already here. your entire body flashes cold, sweat prickling the back of your neck. you cannot fucking believe what you had gotten yourself into.
° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °
ghost had been pacing for the past 20 minutes, fighting the urge to tuck tail and run. he shouldn't be nervous, he was grown man with hundreds of kills under his belt, he shouldn't be shaken at the prospect of meeting some girl.
but you weren't some girl, you were his woman, he was sure of it. something deep in his bones and at the forefront of his brain just knew.
he goes still when he recognizes the sound of the suv rolling down the driveway. he had chosen some random abandoned building, not ready to let you into his own apartment in case things went wrong.
he forcefully exhales, pulling his mask down and taking a deep breath in. it was now or never.
you step out of the car shakily. an abandoned property. nothing serial killer about that. your heart drums in your ears as you follow soap up the steps, avoiding the jagged pieces of wood that stuck up in every which way.
he gets to the door, glancing back at you, offering you one more out. you meet his gaze and hold it, and he figures that's answer enough. he pushes the door open, stepping to the side to let you in.
your first steps inside you don't see him, eyes adjusting to the low light. and then you see a figure in the corner, still as a statue. he's fucking huge, is the only thought that pushes through the panic rising in your chest. you didn't know when you had started shaking. you can see his eyes, carefully watching you.
soap awkwardly clears his throat after almost a minute long staring competition between you and ghost. a kitten and a pitbull indeed. it almost makes him smirk. "right then, i'll be in the car." he promptly shuts the door, wood scraping against wood making you wince.
ghost speaks first, finding himself almost wheezing the words out. "'ello luv." you just stare at him. you seem shellshocked, almost as still as he is, save your chest rapidly rising and falling. he cautiously crosses the room, not wanting to spook you. not when he was this close.
he's standing right in front of you, and your neck aches as you peer up at him. you still can't find the words. something primal in you screaming to run, hide, punch kick, anything. you shake even harder. simon raises his hands to your cheek, effectively smooshing your face between them. its clumsy and he's borderline using too much pressure, but it's grounding for some reason. "breathe." it's said like an order.
you take a deep breath. "this is fucking insane. you're fucking insane." he lets out a puff of air. "i know. i could say the same about you, showin' up 'ere." you give him a look. "i guess you got me there." you catch yourself blinking when you realize he has long, blonde lashes and blue eyes.
he's staring back, eyes roaming your features. it's the first time he's touched you while you were awake, first time he's been able to see your eyes up close. he finds warmth spreading through him, and it's almost too much. he drops his hands and takes a step back, instinctively crossing his arms.
you hate that you miss the heaviness of his hands on your face, and blame the warmness in your cheeks on lingering warmth from his gloved hands.
"i don't know what to say." you really don't. you had a million questions, practiced how you would chew him out and interrogate him. it's all lost now. he shifts on his feet a little. "i feel responsible for you.'" he blurts.
you stay silent, hoping he elaborates. after a few moments he does. "there's not many good people left in the world. i've seen the worst of 'em, downright evil 'n selfish." you can see his jaw clench through the mask. "you're not like 'em. you're kind, pure. go out of your way to be a good person. only right i show you what it's like to be taken care of fer once."
you stare at him, and you know he's telling you the truth. this truly was his fucked-up way of courting you. you scoff a little, not able to contain yourself. "you know there are other ways to be in someone's life, right? without breaking dozens of laws in the process?" he shrugs.
you swallow the lump in your throat, widening your stance subconsciously. simon finds it adorable. "you can't keep doing this. it's wrong." you hate that your voice is shaking and hate even more that the words feel wrong as soon as they come out.
his eyes darken, and he's on you before you can blink. one of his hands is on the nape of your neck, applying slight pressure, scruffing you like a cat. he brings his mask covered lips to your ear.
"you're mine, you hear that? i'm here to help you, to make sure you don't ever have to struggle again. you have my word i'll never hurt you, but you gotta understand that i'll do everything to stay close to you until my dying breath. i'm 'ere to stay luv."
your mind is reeling at the low growl in his voice, dangerous and way too attractive given the situation. he could wrap his hands around your neck easily, choke you until the vessels in your eyes pop and your lungs ignite. but he doesn't, he's just demonstrating the pure control he has over the situation. he's telling you that he cares for you, keep you safe, but that it's at the price of being at his mercy. part of you doesn't mind the idea. you've been at his mercy for almost 6 months anyway, you really only had the illusion of control. would it be that bad to submit to him?
you're sick, you have to be. but can anyone blame you? in almost all your relationships, romantic or not, you were the caregiver. constantly bending over backwards and people pleasing until your heart ached. give give give. it was the story of your life. and here he was, offering you to take for once, only asking you to be receptive in return. it's so fucking tempting.
"take me on a date first at least." you say airily, afraid he can hear your heart thumping against your rib cage.
he leans away from you slightly, looking into your eyes. he keeps his hand tangled in your hair, fingers twitching when he sees the silent challenge in them mixed with a healthy speck of fear. he wants to throw his head back and groan. this was guarded acceptance of the circumstances he had put you in, the last thing he thought he would get from you.
"alright." you blink at him. "what?"
"i said alright luv. we'll go onna date."
you can't believe your ears. nervousness scratches at your chest, you almost regret your offer. maybe leaving him in the shadows would've been for the best, you had no idea what gate you had opened by showing up here in the first place. your mouth is agape, only capable of staring incredulously at him. he takes a step back, two fingers gripping your chin and closing your mouth. "you'll catch flies."
you glare at his little jab. he rubs a finger over your bottom lip, eyes lingering there for a second. "i'll giv' you more answers then too. promise."
"okay." you say timidly. you're at a loss for words. you suppose there's not much to say.
"soap'll take you 'ome. i'll let you be for the night, gather your thoughts." he puts a gentle hand on your back, guiding you to the door. you shiver at how well he read you. he must know you well. you know almost nothing of him.
he opens the door, sending a nod to soap as he starts the car up. your back is to ghost, feeling dazed and stupid. so so stupid. ghost leans down once more, hand sliding to rest on your lower back. whispering. "we'll talk soon. get 'ome safe."
when you don't move, he has the audacity to give your ass a little tap to get you going. and you have the audacity to almost like it.
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fallingsatellive · 3 months ago
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“It’s obviously valid to be bugkin but you also can’t just expect people to get over it when they have a genuine fear!”
I’m afraid of dogs.
Dogs put me extremely on edge. I avoid them while outside and if one’s in a room with me I’ll try to leave or else start to panic. Especially medium-sized and larger breeds. Mere images of dogs may not give me a panic attack, I will admit that, it's not a phobia. But if you want to talk hypocrisy, if you're opening up that discussion:
Hey dog therians, dog otherhearted folks and clinical cynanthropes, what if everywhere you went, the unspoken attitude of the alterhuman community was—
Don’t post dog photos or talk about being a dog in the main alterhuman tags. Don’t talk about your shifts, your instincts, or your kind in the main tags. If you’re a CZ, don’t talk so openly about your biological reality. It’s extremely triggering for people with cynophobia. The idea of physically being or becoming a dog grosses them out to briefly think about, so try not to discuss your literal existence. If you must, at least trigger tag yourself with #tw dogs or #tw dog mention so people can stay safe by censoring things that will hurt their mental health. It’s okay if you’re dogkin but in my DNI I'm going to write something like, don’t follow me if your blog hosts too many graphic close-up images of dogs doing dog things, even if you censor them. Don’t add dog photos to open posts in the alterhuman tags, you have no idea who might be sent into a panic attack by images of yourself so you should play it safe and only put them on your own posts. And stop being so offended by people who comment on posts about pet dogs or dog facts saying they want to bleach their eyes or kill it with fire, they can’t help having a phobia.
Not great, is it? Fortunately, and I do genuinely mean that, this is a sentiment you will only see once, on this post, completely satirically. Except it’s just a real sentiment for bug therians/hearted and other invertebrate alterhumans. Of course what I said was satire. But if it pissed you off when you thought it might not be, please, contemplate on that reaction, really spend some time on it.
Also, if you're wondering what I mean by "other invertebrate alterhumans", (and I'm sorry for how heated I got when I was writing this part last night even after editing it down)
You know I’m a bug zoanthrope too, not just a bird? And see above if you're wondering why I never said shit about it, just said I was a centipede therian and even then said I was just questioning and didn't really talk much about it. Am I allowed to talk about it without tagging it #tw body horror, even though I obviously don’t fucking find my own body to be horror? Can I talk about it without tagging it #tw bugs like just the very thing that I am needs to be censored for people's well-being? I'm sorry if I come across judgmental. Offline I constantly interact with people saying they’re a nature lover but centipedes are the only thing on Earth that they still hate. And I have to come online knowing that any of those people could be bloggers in the alterhuman tags and it’s my responsibility to tiptoe around them. “Because centipedes are scary and disgusting.” Because I’m scary and disgusting. My brain is not capable of hearing a difference and I can’t change that. It is so much my reality that it's the same emotional mix of anger and anxiety and hurt that would be (has been, lol) triggered by someone ranting about how much they hate Jews or trans people to me.
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archangeldyke-all · 4 months ago
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Hi Angelllllll !!! Remember when you answered that one ask about divorced reader and Sev? I kinda wanna see Sev busting her ass to get her family back together 🫡
EEEEEK okay this is adorbs
men and minors dni
"ma..." little fucker begins one evening as you read her a bedtime story. you close the book of fairy tales and turn on your side to face your girl.
"yeah, baby?"
"mommy says she wants to marry you." your daughter whispers. "she told me."
you chuckle and shake your head. "oh, did she?" you ask.
your daughter's eyes grow wide as she nods and spills her mom's secrets to you. "she says i can be the flower girl. she'll buy me a pretty dress." she says. "an' she says we'll go on family vacation after! to the beach!"
you snort and roll your eyes.
it's been a year since you and sevika have started going to couples counseling and it's been going really well. it hasn't been easy, but it's been so worth it.
sevika's been trying her best to communicate how she's feeling. she struggles with it; and you try your best not to laugh each time you watch your wi-- your girlfriend's face scrunch up in emotional constipation before she admits something romantic or sad or stupid.
you've been trying not to pull back out of anxiety. it's hard. you come home from an amazing day with little fucker and her mommy, and suddenly, you're consumed with fear that this go around end just like it ended last time.
but... you've been getting better at trusting sevika. and she's been getting better at being honest. and... you've been looking to move to a new house, all three of you, at the end of the year when your leases end. and she's been teasing you about marriage the entire fucking year.
"you're mommy's full of s-h-i-t." you say. your daughter giggles mischievously at your spelled curse word.
"whaddya mean?"
"i mean she's gonna have to wait a while if she wants me to marry her again."
"but why?" your daughter pouts. you giggle-- your baby's just discovered the concept of romance, and lately, she's been enchanted with it. (you suspect her mommy might have something to do with it.) "weddings are so romantic!" she coos. "and we can wear matching dresses!" she squeals.
"you don't even like it when me and your mommy smooch in front of you!" you laugh. your daughter huffs.
"it's gross when you guys get slobbery!" she sticks her tongue out. "but... a kiss like this--" she darts forward and pecks your cheek, "you can do that at your wedding!"
you cackle, and kiss your daughter right back. "you go to sleep, little miss. stop worrying about me and your mommy. y'know when we move into the new house you're gonna be sick of the two of us." you say as you tickle her tummy. your daughter squeals and starts smacking you with one of her stuffies. "you're gonna get twice as many tickles." you threaten.
little fucker squeals, then starts kicking. you laugh as you pull away, smiling down at your giggling baby. "but i'll also get twice as many kisses!" she says.
your heart melts, and you lean back down to hug your baby. "yeah, you will." you kiss her head, your heart surging with excitement.
as much as you wanna give sevika a hard time-- as funny as she is when she's grovelling-- you're happier than you've ever been right now.
little fucker has been adoring having both of her moms paying attention to her at the same time on all the family adventures and outings you've been going on.
last night, sevika took you and your girl to the local carnival. she and little fucker had a blast going on all the rides-- sevika was determined to win her daughter teddy bear (the same one she's cuddling now) at the ring toss stand, and then she was determined to turn you on at the strength tester, where she hit the meter so hard she nearly broke the bell at the top.
you've never been happier in your life.
to you, nothing feels more perfect than walking hand in hand with your wi-- girlfriend-- as your daughter trails ahead of you, gasping at bugs and rocks she finds.
and, if your daughter was a little older and could keep a secret, you'd tell her the truth. you'd tell her that the real reason you've laughed off all of sevika's (and little fucker's) attempts to talk about marriage to you is that sevika got to propose last time. it's only fair that if the two of you get married again; you get to be the one to propose this time.
you want to wait until you're all moved in together and settled... but you've had a ring picked out for sev since your third couples' therapy appointment.
for now though, you just tuck your baby in, gently close her door, then turn to your bedroom, sending a message to your wi-- girlfriend.
little fucker says u wanna marry me
cat's outta the bag...
she says u invited her on our honeymoon :/
you'd be heartbroken if we left her for a week.
you giggle and flop on your bed, ignoring the urge to kick your feet in the air behind you as you text her back.
how are we ever gonna fuck again if the kid's always there?
same way we fucked last night ;)
good point... speaking of...
i'm parked in the driveway.
what!?
i figured this text was coming.
well get your ass inside!!!
🏃🏾‍♀🏃🏾‍♀🏃🏾‍♀
you bury your face in your hands to muffle your giddy laugh, and outside; sevika's car door slams, and her heavy boots come running up the driveway.
taglist!
@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner
@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther
@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai
@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll
@sevsdollette @ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re
@raphaellearp @iamastar @sevikitty @claude999
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myosotisa · 1 year ago
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Hiding Lately - s.h. & e.m.
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Eddie Munson x Reader x Steve Harrington
‖  summary: You've been hurting and hiding. Steve and Eddie come over to check on you and offer to help.
‖  tags: hurt/comfort. depictions of depression, a depressive episode, and anxiety. suicidal ideations. she/her pronouns, no y/n, nicknames are sweetheart, baby, angel, and doll. could be read as platonic or romantic.
‖  word count: 2.1k
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The knock on your apartment door had never felt more damning than it did in that moment.
A knock on the front door was always a nightmare for someone who struggled with their mental health but that was on good days. Today, a knock on the door was definitely not something you were prepared to handle.
So you ignored it. Pulled your covers even further up over your head and hoped that whoever it was would just go away.
No such luck.
You hear the muffled sound of the deadbolt turning and then the seal of the door breaking as it inches open. “Hellooooo?” Is the familiar echo out into the empty space of your place. “Anybody home?”
“She’s gotta be here, her car is out front.”
Fuck it’s both of them. Every hope you had of just hiding and Eddie leaving got thrown out the window the moment you heard Steve was with him. On their own, either might be disheartened by no response – decide they were invading your privacy and leave before venturing too far inside.
Together, encouraging each other, it’s only a matter of minutes before they knock at your bedroom door.
Your pigsty of a bedroom that is covered in dirty clothes and dishes and probably smells weird and they can’t see–
“Don’t come in,” you rasp from your bed, voice tired from disuse as you break your silence for the first time in who knows how long.
“Sweetheart, where have you been?” Steve’s voice comes through the door, obviously right outside it. “We've been calling and calling for days.”
“I… I’ve been sick.”
“Sick? Why didn’t you say something, angel? Could’ve brought you some soup or something,” Eddie adds, sounding concerned. You can clearly picture the wrinkle between his eyebrows.
Eyes closing from their stare at the ceiling, you take a deep breath to force down the sickness that is threatening to rise with every lie that leaves your mouth. “I’m contagious. Don’t want to get you sick.”
“Oh, come on. We’re big strong men, right Harrington? We can fend off a little stomach bug, no problem.”
“Super human immune system, baby,” Steve confirms, and you can hear the smile on his face. It nearly breaks your heart. “No chance you’ll give us anything. So can we come in?”
“No!”
Neither of them say a word after your quick and forceful denial, leaving it to feel like it’s echoing out around the room and grating back into your own eardrums. Just to get it to stop, you softly add, “Please don’t.”
While you’re worried it might’ve been too soft for them to hear, you’re proven wrong by Steve saying, “Then will you come out here?” It’s a soft plea, warm and velvety in its concern and compassion, and it feels like a knife in the chest. “Tell us what’s really going on?”
There’s no way to get out of this. You haven’t showered in days, you probably smell rough and look even worse. You’ve been wearing the same sweatpants and hoodie for a week. And you’re going to have to open your door and face your two closest friends like this.
If you don’t go out there, they will come in here. And that’s too much, it’s safe in here, they can’t come in here–
“Okay, okay. I’m… Just gimme a minute.”
“Take your time, we’ll go hang out on the couch,” you hear one set of footsteps away from your door after Steve’s confirmation.
“Not too long though,” Eddie teases, “I’m gonna raid your fridge and eat all of it if you don’t stop me.”
The threat means nothing as he walks away too. There’s nothing in your fridge left that’s edible.
Anxiety from them being here and wanting them to be gone is enough to get you out of bed for the first time today, picking through the remaining pile of clean clothes to find a different pair of sweatpants and a top that isn’t as marinated in body as your current set, slapping on some deodorant and changing your underwear at the same time. You do the bare minimum to make your hair look less like a greasy, horrible mess and gargle some mouthwash because it’s easier than trying to brush your teeth. This already feels like so, so much effort and you haven’t even faced them yet.
This shouldn’t be this hard. Why the fuck is being a normal human being so hard for you? What is wrong with you–
As soon as you’ve even cracked the door open, their murmuring to each other stops and they turn toward you, looking small and unsure in your doorway. Two pairs of brown eyes staring holes into you, seeing right through you, and it feels so fucking painful that you want to just slam the door shut again. They’re looking at you so softly, with so much warmth and openness. 
Because they pity you.
“What do you want?” Your voice is colder and softer than you meant it to be, not moving from your spot that blocks the view of your room from them. You could step out into the living room and close the door behind you to hide your shame, but leaving the safety of your bedroom isn’t something you’re willing to do yet.
“Your fridge is empty.” Eddie’s voice is as soft as yours but the corners of his mouth are turned down in a small frown. “The dishes in your sink have started to smell. Your trashcan and your mailbox are both overflowing.”
Shame and embarrassment presses hot behind your eyes, looking down at your feet. “If you’re just here to point out everything that’s wrong, you can get the fuck out of–”
“Sweetheart.” Steve cuts you off, not cruelly but enough to make you stop anyway. “When’s the last time you ate anything?”
Your heart drops into your stomach when he slowly stands, starting to slowly walk toward you like you’re a skittish animal. “I dunno… I’m not hungry.”
“Shit,” Eddie mutters from the couch, head falling to look at his clasped hands as he leans forward on his elbows.
“When’s the last time you showered? Left your apartment?” Steve continues, looking like his heart is breaking.
“Steve…” You whisper, a croak in your voice again while you shake your head at him. “Please, don’t… Don’t make me answer that.”
Eddie’s head raises again, drawing your attention. He looks just as heart broken as Steve. “Why didn’t you say anything, doll?”
A humorless laugh leaves you, sounding more like a choked gasp. “What the fuck was I supposed to say, huh? ‘Hey, sorry guys, I can’t even get myself to go to the fucking grocery store like a normal human being, can you help?’”
“Yeah,” he answers, sounding almost angry, shaggy hair falling off his shoulders when he nods, “for a start.”
“Eddie.” Steve looks back at him sharply, giving him a warning look that makes him soften again. When he looks back to you, still a safe few feet away, he asks, “What happened, sweetheart? What’s got you…?”
“Hurting?” Eddie offers when the other falters, pushing off his knees to stand as well.
“It’s just…” Your voice cracks, tears you haven’t been able to find in days suddenly pushing at your eyes without warning. You squeeze them closed as your breath catches to try and stop them.
What are you gonna tell them? ‘Oh everything’s so hard.’ Just tell them you’re a fucking child who can’t handle being alive? Might as well push them out the door now–
“Hey,” Steve’s soft voice interrupts your mental berating, taking another few steps closer. “It’s okay. You can tell us anything.”
“No judgement,” Eddie adds, an echo of one of the first things you said to him when the two of you met. It’s been a constant in the relationship you have with both of them. Anything any of you say – no matter how stupid, or fucked up, or wrong – no judgement. Maybe some teasing, depending on how stupid. But they’ve never judged you for anything and there is no reason for them to start now.
But this? Trusting someone, opening up to someone, letting someone in about this? The idea is terrifying.
“Everything’s just…” You trail off again, looking off and down the hallway away from them as you bring your arms up in a sort of hug for yourself. “It’s all just a lot, right now.”
“Will you…” Eddie shoves his hands into his pockets as he kicks out his boot like he’s kicking a rock. “Will you let us help you?”
You’re shaking your head before he can even finish the sentence. “I– I can’t ask you to do that.”
Steve’s fingertips brush your elbow, the first human touch you’ve had in longer than you can remember, and it has your head whipping toward him. “You’re not asking. We're offering.”
Hot tears increase the pressure in your head, now starting to pool at the bottoms of your eyes as you struggle to make eye contact with either of them.  “I don’t even know how you could help. It’s just… I can’t…”
I want to curl into a ball on the floor and wait to die–
“How about this,” Eddie walks up, moving to rest his shoulder on the wall beside the door frame you still occupy. “I’m gonna run to the store and stock up, plus grab us all something to eat on the way back.”
You open your mouth to protest but he holds up his hand, “Ah, ah, ah.” It’s enough scolding to close your lips again in a tight line before he points at Steve. “Mr. Mom here can get started on cleaning up the kitchen so it’s nice and easy to cook in. And you tell us what you want to do.”
Your teary eyes finally look back and forth between them, begging for an answer – for them to put you out of your misery for even just a moment. “I can give you a couple of options to choose from, if that would help?” Steve offers, fingertips still lightly resting on your elbow.
Door 3, door 3, door 3, every bone in my body wants to get back in bed and never get up–
Squeezing your eyes shut, both to let some of the tears fall and to push back the shame that wants to explode out of your mouth, you give him a stuttered nod of your head. “Okay. Door #1: While we do that, you go and try to take a shower.” The immediate pain must show on your face, because he quickly moves on.
“Door #2: You come out here and lay on the couch while I start to clean up. You can take a nap, or we can talk, or we can listen to music – whatever you want. And Door #3, you go back and curl up in bed and we come back to get you when Eddie has some food for us.”
A shaky breath in and out, you open your eyes to look at them. Eddie’s face is forced casual while Steve offers a small and supportive smile. You know they wouldn’t judge you if you picked Door #3 and got back into bed. If you went back to the indent you’ve most likely made from all the hours and hours spent in the same spot. But you want to try. Even if it’s just a little bit. Even if you end up back in bed right after anyway.
“If… If I pick Door #2,” Eddie’s mouth tilts up slightly and Steve’s eyebrows raise in interest, “then can I have a hug?”
“Oh angel,” Eddie presses a hand to his chest, right over his heart. “If you thought you were going to get away without a hug in any of those options, you’re sorely mistaken.”
You exhale a small laugh out of your nose, a teary smile on your face as they both step up to sandwich you between them in a tight hug. Eddie’s face presses to your ear, curly hair tickling your nose as he rests his mouth on your shoulder. Steve settles higher, resting his cheek on the side of your head as he tucks you closer to his chest. Both boys are warm, solid, and alive on either side of you – almost crushing you with the force of the embrace. But it’s the best crush you’ve ever felt, one that tells you that you’re alive and that someone cares. It makes the tears come through faster, falling down your cheeks with more force as you shudder in a breath.
Steve presses a kiss to your temple, squeezing you just a little bit tighter. “We’re here for you, sweetheart.”
Eddie’s hand fists in the back of your shirt, forcing you an inch closer. “As long as you need us. Not going anywhere.”
-
now I live in a place that feels smaller by the day four walls closing in from months spent inside them there is too much grief packed into this small place packed into this bed with unchanged sheets packed between these ribs that somehow are still unbroken and no one has ever been here not in this space, not in this bed, not between these ribs they are too full of my own grief for there to be any space
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thanks for reading. please reblog and leave a reaction if you liked it, they make my day.
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scoonsalicious · 8 months ago
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Unwanted: Chapter 16, Unaccompanied - Pt. 2
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language,
Word Count: 881
Previously On...: You were juuuuust about to leave for your first mission with Bucky, but have been felled by a nasty stomach bug, leaving Bucky to go off on the mission alone :(
A/N: Fuck it! I'm in a generous mood!
Dun, dun, DUN! NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when I update, please enable notifications from my Blog page!
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
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You woke up a few hours later. You felt a bit better, but an all encompassing fatigue still settled over your body. You stretched and grabbed your phone to check the time. Glancing at your phone’s screen, you saw you had multiple missed calls from Bucky, and text messages asking you to call him back as soon as you could.
Concerned, you hit the button to dial him back. He picked up immediately.
“Baby,” he breathed, sounding relieved. “I am so sorry, I have no idea how this happened, but I swear, I had nothing to do with it. I was fully prepared to go by myself, but—”
“Bucky,” you interrupted, “what are you talking about?”
“Fucking Carthage,” he seethed, and you could feel his anger through the phone. “She’s on the Quinjet with me. I told Steve I was fine going alone, but I set the autopilot for takeoff and she was just there. I’m so sorry, sweets. I know you got no reason to believe me, but I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want this. She’s the last person I want to be trapped in this bird with, let alone on a mission with. I locked myself in the fucking cockpit just to keep her the hell away from me.”
Your stomach dropped, but you could hear the anxiety and rage in his voice, and maybe you were stupid, but you truly believed this had taken him by as much surprise as it had taken you. “It’s okay, baby,” you told him after you’d taken a breath, not realizing you’d let the endearment slip through. “I believe you; it’s not your fault.”
“I promised you I’d cut her out,” he bemoaned. “This makes me a fucking piece of shit all over again, and I hate it. I hate what it must be doing to you right now. I’m so sorry.”
You were feeling nauseous again, though from your stomach bug or the current situation, you weren’t quite sure. “You can’t help this, Buck. It’s beyond your control, I get that. I really do. I know I can’t expect you to ignore her while you’re on a mission together. You don’t have to worry about breaking your promise to me right now, okay? It’s extenuating circumstances.”
“I’ll only talk to her about mission-related shit,” he promised. “I’ll ignore everything else, I swear.”
“Yeah,” you said, running a hand through your hair. “Yeah, that’s good. We can work with that, Buck. It’s okay; we can get through this.
“I’m so sorry, Pocket.” Bucky’s voice was mournful. “It’s another promise I made to you that I’m not keeping. 
You talked to him for a while longer, reassuring him you didn’t blame him for the current state of affairs, and that you weren’t going to hold any contact he needed to have with her against him. Occasionally, you could hear Jade pounding on the cockpit door, and Bucky would shout that, if it wasn’t about the mission, he didn’t want to hear it. 
After about an hour and a half, Bucky swore softly. “I’m sorry, sweets– looks like we’re heading into a storm. I’m gonna have to take the jet off autopilot and fly her manual til we’re through it.”
“Yeah, of course, Buck,” you said, knowing he was telling you he had to hang up. “Text me when you land, okay?”
“‘Course, doll,” he said, and you could hear him smile into the phone. “I’ll be doin’ everything in my power to get this mission over as soon as possible.”
“Just come home to me safe and sound, Barnes,” you told him. “That’s the important thing.” 
“Always,” he said. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Hey, Buck?” you asked, before he had a chance to hang up. “I love you, okay? So much.” You still did, despite everything, and you wanted him to know it.
“I don’t deserve you, sweetheart,” he said, “but I love you, too. More than anything.”
You said your goodbyes and were left in the quiet of your room. You needed to have a conversation with Tony, but before you set out to find him, you had one burning question you needed answered.
“Hey FRIDAY?” you called.
“Yes, Ms. (Y/L/N)?” came the disembodied Irish voice.
“Why didn’t you alert me when Sergeant Barnes and Ms. Carthage interacted aboard the Quinjet?” you asked.
“You asked for all interactions within the Tower,” FRIDAY replied. “The Quinjet does not technically meet the parameters of your request and thus was not included.”
You rolled your eyes. Of course the AI would get caught up in semantics. “Okay, fine. Adjust the parameters of the request to include any and all interactions occurring between the two on the Quinjet, as well,” you requested. 
The AI agreed, and you let out a sigh. You felt terrible about essentially spying on Bucky, but the truth was, you still didn’t fully trust him again. You wanted to, more than anything, but you just couldn’t. You hated what you had become, what the situation, his actions, had turned you into. If you were the kind of girl who believed in a higher power, you’d be praying to any deity who would listen that this mission would be over before your anxiety got the best of you.
<- Previous Part / Next Part ->
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teaffrogy · 8 months ago
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Anxiety [Astarion]
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SUM. Anxiety and stress have been eating at you. Till you broke.
Fem Reader(You/Tav) X Astarion (takes place in Act 3)
A/N: I am not feeling well mentally, and I just want comfort, so I am giving myself some sort of comfort. I am struggling with anxiety and depression. I am seeing a therapist, but my life is making me want to quit.
Tw(?): Talks a lot about Anxiety and stress
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You haven't slept.
It's been two days since you haven't been able to sleep properly. You'd stir in your bedroll or just look outside of the flaps of your tent. What was keeping you awake? Anxiety.
Anxiety of going Back Home, getting this weird tadpole out of you, having to find find the two neteratones who two powerful people have, help Karlach with her engine and worry about what happens next for her, and so so but so much more from everyone else in the camp. Your stomach was killing you. You'd even throw up at random because of the stupid fucking Anxiety that was eating at you. Every encounter leads to new situations that cause even more anxiety.
And some of your companions Have noticed you not leaving your tent for two days. One is because you fall asleep and wake up super Late, the other is because you don't want to go out. You haven't been leaving because you don't want to encounter more situations And the current ones, you are avoiding everything, everyone. And it makes you feel even more worse about yourself than ever because of how much you've been avoiding it.
Astarion would come in to Ask if you are alright but you just said yes. He even asks you to go on a night walk with him since he saw you not sleep at night. But you kindly refused saying he needs to rest too. He would say you two could simply stay. in your tent and he Can just read. But you said no. Shadowheart would come to your tent to ask if you are alright, you'd say you're fine, just tired, but she knew something was wrong and it was bugging her. Gale too, he'd ask or even bring you your favorite meal he made but you wouldn't even touch it. If you did eat You'd just end up throwing it up.
“Do you think she is pregnant?” Karlach asks. “You think so? She's been throwing up.” Shadowheart says. “She is not pregnant!” Gale yells. “And how would you know?” Astarion asks, and Gale says nothing. “Well, I don't think it's because of her being pregnant, I think she'd know if she is. Plus, she seems down.” Wyll says as he looks at your tent, which you haven't left again. Halsin looks at your tent and sees you turn on a candle. You move around, and half your body is out of the tent, but go back inside and turn the candle off. Halsin sighs and looks at everyone. “She is avoiding something or someone.” He says.
Someone? But who?
And they started to point fingers at who. First, it was Astarion(of course) they had thought that their relationship had ended which caused you to lock yourself Away, but it hasn't, it is a good relationship. Then it was Gale. Maybe she was scared he'd blow up! But it was false. You two had talked privately about this. Then it was Wyll. Maybe she was scared of Misora? But no, you had told him you wanted to fight her. Then Karlach, again, burns and blows up. But again, you had ressured Her that you trusted her. Then Shadowheart, her beliefs in Shar maybe were too much for you. Again, you told her as well that it didn't matter to you at all. Halsin…there wasn't really anything wrong. No one had nothing to say about him.
So what was it?
Laezel? But she said that you two were good, that for them to assume something like that was idiotic.
And They gave up. It was either because you hated someone and they didn't know why or you were pregnant. Which are two bad options, but what else?
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You couldn't sleep again.
Everyone was in their tents, asleep. You were culled up into a ball as you thought of everything that simply kept coming, and your stomach was killing you again. You wanted to throw up, but at the same time, you didn't. You didn't want to throw up what you had eaten. Gale had made your favorite food. It would be sad if you just threw it up.
And the thoughts are quiet now. They just stopped. You breathed carefully and heard footsteps. It's Astarion. He probably came back from a haunt. You smiled at the thought of him, but the thoughts came back.
What would he think of me now? Does He think I'm disgusting? God, what if he just wants to end things? Does he love me? What am I doing wrong?
It was getting hard to breathe. Your eyes would move from one place to another in seconds and you sat up. Your vision starts to blur as you try to look around. You try to speak but you just make a weird sound like a cry. You cover your mouth and just cry. You hugged the pillow again and covered your face in it as you cried. You could Feel your pillow Start to get soaked as your tears would hit it.
And the flaps to your tent Open. You look up and see Astarion. “Darling?” He calls. You were a mess. Your whole tent was really. He looks at you, hugging your pillow as you try to muffle up the sobs and cries. He sits next to you, not really knowing what to do. He was never really comforted before. Only by you after Cazedor Died. He was crying, shaking and you simply pulled him into a hug and let Him cry it all out until he stopped.
He pulls the pillow away from your face and you sob, avoiding looking at him. He lifts your chin Up and you look into his eyes, his gorgeous red eyes. They reminded you of garnets. Those eyes that shined after he had drinken from you. But today, they looked hurt, worried.
He gently kisses your forehead and then pulls you into a hug. You stood there, frozen for at least 5 seconds before your eyes started to water again, and you wrapped your arms around him. And you just cried. You just cried as you hugged Him, and that's when you spilled it all. “I am so tired!” You say and bury your face on his chest. Your crying starts to calm down. “I have so much to do. I- I just-” You sniffed and sighed. “I am tired. I haven't slept for 2 days, and I have such bad anxiety.” You say as you stopped hugging, but he still is holding on to you. You fidget with the end of the button to his shirt. “Wyll, we have To help him rescue his dad, Karlach, we need to find Dammon so he can see if he can fix her engine, Shadowheart, She has these people after her because she betrayed Shar and now we need to also find her parents, Gale, We Find a book and now he wants the crown of the Elder brain, Laezel well… she is cool.” You smiled, and Astarion chuckles at the end. But he notices everything that is put on you.
Everyone expects you to do something or help them with something. Make huge decisions For them as well. Since the very beginning. “You don't think I'm cool?” He asks and you nod. “You aren't. You are amazing.” You say and he hugs you tighter. “I'm sorry.” you say.
“Don't Apologize Darling.” He says as he pulls from the hug to look at you. “You may feel like you are doing this all by yourself. But you aren't.” He says as he brushes your hair behind your ear. “I'm here. And also I suppose everyone else here as well.” He says and you nod. You felt like crying again but your head hurt. “Also I heard you all talking and what the hell is up with you all thinking I am pregnant?”
“I never thought you were! You know I am not good with kids. I am not risking it to burst myself instead yo-”
“Shush!” You cover his mouth and he grins. “You are sometimes too loud.” You say and he nods. And you two are quiet. You don't know if you would sleep tonight or Would even leave your tent. You were still anxious as to what was coming. But, at least you know you aren't alone now.
“I know you won't sleep tonight, Darling. Would I interest you in a bath? And after a lovely love session?” He says as he holds your hand and brings it to his lips, placing a kiss. He then gets close to you and kisses you. You smile in the kiss. After a couple of minutes of kissing, you pull away and look at him. You nod. "I'd love that.” You say as you hold on to his hand.
“I love you Astarion.” It felt weird saying it. You two don't say it often, but it has a lot of meaning for you two after everything you two have gone through.
“I love you too Darling.”
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russellsppttemplates · 11 months ago
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A little hope (Part 2) (Lando Norris)
In which Lando realises he learnt a few things in school, and yet the only way to learn about you is hoping you'll have him by your side
Note: english is not my first language. This is part two of A little hope, which got a lot of love, so thank you for that 😊 hopefully you enjoy this ending! Thank you so much for the love on that piece ✨️
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: mentions a couple's fight, self deprecation moments, body image insecurity, signs and symptoms of anxiety, online hate comments, sickness, curse words, allusions to smut
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog
Somatic or not, your stomach was not handling any food. The minute you ate something, you were sure to bring if up a few moments later since you had arrived home, "for fuck's sake", you groaned, resting your head on your forearm on the edge of the toilet, taking a deep breath.
When you felt strong enough, you walked back to your bed, noticing the clock was reading six in the morning already. Rolling to the other side, you hoped you'd be able to sleep it off, but when your alarm rung, you felt even worse than before.
Getting your phone again along with your glasses, you opened the Team's group chat, writing a quick text to let them know that you didn't feel well and you wouldn't be able to join them today and that you would try your best to get ahead on the projects you could work on remotely. A few minutes later, Tara and Max texted back.
Tara TQ
I'm sorry to hear that, Y/N, I hope you feel better soon! Don't worry about anything else other than getting better! 💚
Max
Feel better soon, Y/N! Don't worry about work, we've got it!
A good while later you woke up again, feeling slightly better, you had enough energy to eat some plain crackers and drink some tea, feeling that it was actually settling in your stomach for the first time in the last couple of hours.
Taking in the stride, you went to the bathroom, hoping a shower would clean the night sweats away and give you a little boost. Just in case, you supported yourself on the wall, keeping close to it just in case your legs faltered while you let the water cascade down your hair to your back and legs, washing your hair quickly and rinsing your body wash from your skin. You wrapped your fluffy robe around your body and a towell for your hair, laying in bed to rest a little.
Skipping your usual routine, you dressed in some comfy clothes, a hoodie you had stolen from Lando and some plaid pyjama pants, inhaling the comforting scent. That was something you should think about, it wasn't fair to leave Lando waiting for you, and you needed to sort it out.
As if on cue, your doorbell rang, leaving you to think it was the mailman with a package for your neighbours as you would often take it for them whenever they weren't home.
"Hi! Are you Y/N Y/L/N?", a guy that looked a few years older than you checked, "yes, that's me", you squinted, "I have this, it was ordered for you. Enjoy it!", he said as he handed you a takeout bag.
Thanking him, you closed the door, seeing a little note attached to the bag.
This is a little something to help you get better soon. There's some chicken soup, pasta when you feel up to it, something sweet and some tea bags.
Love you, Lando 🤍
Smiling at the little note, your heart squeezed as you realised that the subject shouldn't go past this week.
While you heated up the soup, you grabbed your phone, opening your conversation with Lando so you could thank him.
I just got the takeout bag, thank you. I'm slowly coming back to feeling better, it's probably some forty-eight hour bug and my body telling me to slow down.
I think we should talk soon, whenever you have the time, tough. There's no rush!
I love you ✨️
"So, today we're taking over the stream!", Lando announced to the camera, smiling and waving as the chat went wild.
"We are just going to game, I think, as there has been a change of plans and we don't really know how to follow up to what we had planned to do", Max referred to the planned stream for Quadrant. The original idea came from the fans as they wanted to get to know the behind the scenes of the team, and just for luck, this week was for Graphic Design.
"We're making do with what we have, and as soon as we're able, we'll do the behind the scenes for all the graphic designing things that go on at Quadrant!", Lando smiled sympathetically, the memory of you fond as your message sparked his hope, and the chat didn't seem to mind it too much.
I was hoping to see Y/N and Lando call me single in eighteen different languages, but I really do miss her
I take it she didn't even bother to show up, she's learnt her lesson I guess
Wasn't Y/N supposed to join them?
You can tell by Lando's face that he misses her, they're so cute together
It looks better like this, honestly
Imagine having to call your boyfriend to tell him that you can't show up to work
She probably doesn't even work, Lando has someone doing the job while she sits still and looks pretty
What do you mean? She doesn't even look pretty ??
Maybe she's ill or had something else to do? Can't you people be a little bit more empathetic and kind for once?
Max noticed how his bestfriend's attention was on the chat, looking at the same flood of comments he did before clearing his throat, "so, do we feel like racing or are we leaning towards another game?", he interjected, pulling Lando away from the screen slightly, "you choose, I'm not fancying anything particular. Only that I know that I'll beat you at anything", he chuckled.
Once they ended the stream, Lando tidied the room a little bit as Max switched the equipment off, "is that what you were talking about the other day? About Y/N?", he questioned.
"Yes. We have been talking to the platform managers, but they haven't restricted everything apparently", Max said, knowing better than to not tell him the truth.
"Who do they think they are to say things like that about someone they don't know? I get that I receive such things because I'm out there, but Y/N is barely a public person! She doesn't deserve that!", Lando huffed.
"Have you guys talked about it yet?", he questioned, having noticed that Lando hadn't texted you in the group chat but that he had a spring up in his step that afternoon.
"She texted me today, actually. We've been keeping to ourselves, we weren't in the right mind to discuss what needs to be discussed until now", he smiled, "I'm still unsure of going to see her today or tomorrow, since she's sick I don't want to bother her too much, and I could use someone else's perspective because I have a funny way with words and I don't want to get it wrong because I'm not a book worm and seem almost illiterate on any good day", he admitted.
"That's good, mate! Start going then, we're thinking out loud", Max encouraged, happy to see friend in high spirits. Because he had known him for so long, Max knew how different this relationship was from his past ones. They weren't bad or wrong, and they helped shape Lando into who he is and how he behaves. The way he cared about Y/N was different and Max couldn't find it in him and lie about the fact that he thought the young woman was it.
"Like you said, it's the fact that she's lost her name because of who she dates. All of a sudden, none of her achievements are valuable, worthy or even acknowledged because she's my girlfriend. Our relationship had nothing to do with her employment - hell, I only met her because she applied, otherwise Goodness knows where I would've met the love of my life - and, and I've been doing this thing where I just call her my girlfriend and I now understand that can be discrediting of her, like I just see her as my girlfriend. But the more I think about it, the more I realise I do it out of genuine pride of her. Look at me! I'm a muppet and I drive around in circles in the weekends, and she! That woman, this woman!", he showed him his lockscreen, a picture of the two of you, "she is the most talented person I've met and I'm so proud that I'm hers and she's mine!".
"I think you're underestimating yourself a little, but you've also played above your game", he chuckled, "and about the comments?", he wondered. Even though it wasn't your biggest concern, he knew one person could only muster up so much before letting it get to them.
"Like you said, we'll work with the platforms, if we have her permission we can also put out a statement about it. With her or anyone on the team, we don't tolerate offense", Lando said, "I want to make this as safe as possible, and the fact that it took her for us to notice it is a learning curve".
"Now you just need to be concise about it", Max tapped his back, "I'm sure she loves that babble situation of yours, thinks it's cute and all, but explain well enough", he smirked.
Like he thought, when he texted you to know how you were feeling, he got your reply awhile later saying that you were feeling better and the nap you had was helpful, and then another one saying he could swing by the next day if he wanted to.
Hoping the night made you feel better, Lando texted you the time he was planning to join you, scheduling his training session for the late morning so he could have a good lunch after his shower and get his plans started. You weren't swooned by big dates or big gestures, but rather small meaningful heartfelt things, so he stopped by the pharmacy to pick up some medication to restock your stash and your favourite chocolate.
"Hey, love", you smiled as you opened the door, seeing an equally smiling Lando, "come in, come in", you nudged as he stepped forward, eyes meeting a silently giving consent for a kiss on the cheek.
Silently, Lando left his trainers by the door, walking hand in hand with you to the living room, "are you feeling back to 100%?", he questioned as you sat down on the sofa, on your sides so you could face eachother while his hand played with yours still.
"Yes. I'm glad it's Saturday and I don't have to take any more days, and I can rest up without feeling guilty. And you, how have you been?", you wondered back, not knowing if he wanted to jump straight in the topic.
"I've been well. I was a little worried when you said you were sick, but now I'm better knowing that you're doing well... and that you're ready to tall about us", he blushed, eyes looking into yours.
"I want to thank you for waiting and understanding, and I want to apologise if in this mean time something I did hurt you or made you feel like you weren't welcomed in my life", you gulped, "I'm not used to feeling so little - fuck, I've never been called that - and I spiralled out to the point where I could only think that, through no fault of your own or my own, I'd lose my identity. I'd be Lando's girlfriend, and not Y/N, and I freaked out a little", you explained.
"You had your reasons, love. I'm just glad and thankful that you feel comfortable to tell me how you feel", Lando comforted, bringing your hand up to his lips as he kissed the soft skin.
"I didn't know you felt that way. Maybe I didn't see it or didn't want to see it, the way people were talking about you - and that is something we are going to figure out once for all - but I missed it. Whenever I say you're my girlfriend, it's not because that's just who you are. It's the fact that I'm incredibly proud of you, than I can't believe your my girlfriend and I just say it because I like to show you off, too!
"I learned so much stuff in school despite what I may appear to know, subtracting and multiplying with decimals, all of the capital cities, even though I'm still shit at them, yet, no one taught me how to prepare for this, for you, for how I feel about you. And I'm so proud of you that I tell it to everyone that you're my girlfriend, not because you're just that, but because I love you and you're so amazing", he exhaled out. Even though he had his usually silly tone, there was deep seriousness in his words still.
"You're confident, I love that about you, and to know that indirectly I was the person to put a dent in that makes me wonder if you should stick around me, because I don't want to ever hurt you. And maybe this is selfish, but I don't want to live without you. Now that I've known what it is like to have you in my life, to be yours, I don't want anyone else", he gulped at his own admission. Throughout the years, he learnt about vulnerability and came to terms with his own. Right now, it was bare for anyone to see.
"I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you weren't your own person, and I'm sorry if I did anything to hurt you or disrespect you", he sighed, seeing your watery eyes, "no tears, baby, I can't stand to see you cry", he whispered, cleaning the stray tear that made it's way down your cheek.
"I love you, Lando. I'm the luckiest girl to be able to see you for you, no titles or sponsorships, just you, around your friends and family, see your vulnerability, and I'm the luckiest because I get to be loved by you. So many people around you love you, and I get to be one of those you love back", you scooted closer to him, hands cupping his cheek before you kissed his lips.
"I always want you to be honest with me, baby. Anything you need to tell me, we will fix it, I know we will. I love how you always cry when Boo and Sulley hug for the last time in Monsters Inc. no matter how much times you've seen it, because you always let me know how you feel, and I want that for us. I'll show you how I feel too, and you can nag me when I don't. You're it, Y/N, no one else", he stated, "things people are saying about you are not okay, but Max and I, and the media team, too, are working on something".
"I don't care about who you've dated before, genuinely. But the fact that I'm bombarded everyday with comments regarding my body or my job from people who don't have any knowledge and only want to hurt, it's hard", you admitted, keeping your promise of showing him how you felt.
"You shouldn't because I don't either. I'm with you, and I plan to be with you for as long as you'll have me. I love you, I love your body, I love your personality and everything that you are", he said, getting up as he pulled you with him.
"Up", Lando said as he tapped your hip, helping you jump and wrap your legs around his waist, "where are you taking me?", you giggled, your hands coming to the nape of his neck and fiddling with his curls, "I'm taking you to the bed, and I'm going to love on you for the next couple of hours. We are going to have slow and soft sex, love making if you will, just to show you how much I love you and how much you mean to me".
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strawberry-whorecake · 10 months ago
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Quite the Little Rockstar | A.S.
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pairing: Adam Stanheight x fem!reader
summary: Adam’s feelings for his roommate are strictly platonic, right? At least he keeps telling himself that, until he finds you getting ready for a performance with your band, and you offer do to his eyeliner.
word count: 2.8k
warnings: none, just pure fluff <3
A/N: I’ve been in my Leigh Whannell era for months and the other day when I was doing my eyeliner I couldn’t stop imagining sitting on Adam’s lap and doing his eyeliner aaaaaaa
Having a roommate was weird. What was weirder was having a female roommate. But she’d answered his ad and she paid her half of the rent on time, so who could complain? Especially not when said female roommate was as good looking as you were.
The sound of rock music blaring over the stereo interrupted Adam’s darkroom session. He’d been so lost in developing and perfecting his photographs, he’d barely noticed just how much time passed. 
Still… the interruption was not what he was hoping for. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger as he shut his eyes tight. After a moment of realigning himself to reality, he stepped out of the darkroom, following the sound of the music, which only grew louder the closer he got to the bathroom.
He hesitated for a long moment, the door was slightly ajar, but was it weird to enter the bathroom while his roommate was in there doing god knows what? He didn’t want to be a perv. Was it even pervy in the first place if the door wasn't shut? 
About to give up as a whole, he stopped once more to the sound of you singing along to the music, and it pulled a small smirk to his lips. He swallowed down his anxieties and knocked first–like a gentleman– before pushing the door open anyways. 
“What the hell’s going on in here?” he asked a bit playfully, looking around at the state of the bathroom. 
The edge of the sink was littered with products, some of which had lost their balance and fallen to the floor. You looked nice, which confused him for a brief moment. Nice, but in a bad-ass, edgy kind of way. His gaze flitted over your outfit, and he couldn’t help but mentally admire your figure.
“I’m getting ready for the concert.” you said simply, and he furrowed his brows slightly. Concert? What concert? Then it hit him.
“Oh shit… the Wrath of the Gods concert is tonight?! Fuck! I forgot all about it… Scott’s gonna crucify me.” He groaned before running his hand through his hair. He huffed as he caught your reflection in the mirror.
From what he could see it looked like you were about to stab yourself in the eye with a pencil, and his eyes practically bugged out of his skull. He watched with incredulous curiosity as you brought the pencil not into your eye like he’d expected, but around it. The pencil left messy black smudges around your eyes. 
“What is that…?” he asked, probably sounding like an idiot. 
“Eyeliner?” you replied with a little huff of a laugh. Yep. He was an idiot, and your words proved that to him..
“Oh, yeah… I knew that.” he bullshitted. He’d seen that particular makeup look on girls before, but the only thing he’d ever known in terms of makeup was lipstick and eyeshadow. Oh, and that black gunk you’d put on your eyelashes that made them look long and dark. Mascara? 
He watched the way you applied the makeup around your eyes, only to then rub the tips of your fingers over your eyes, making the black pencil even messier… though, it was oddly attractive. It suited you well. 
“What?” you asked, peering at him through the mirror’s reflection. His expression turned sheepish, not realizing he’d practically been ogling at you until you’d called him out on it. 
“Oh, just uh… that makes you look cool, I guess.” In typical Adam fashion, he downplayed his compliment. He had a hard time being genuine around you, he didn’t want you to think he was a pussy or something by calling you pretty… or gorgeous… or just plain outright goddamn sexy. He did think all those things about you, but would you like him to call you those things? Or would you just think he was weird if he did? 
“Thanks.” followed by a little laugh pulled him from his thoughts. You liked his compliment? His gaze softened a little as he watched you reapply only to smudge the makeup around your eyes more. 
“Does that like… hurt?” he asked. It looked painful… a pencil that close to your eye? He shivered as he imagined that feeling. 
Your laughter once again pulled him out of his thoughts and he regained his focus on you as you turned around to face him, leaning back against the sink with your arms crossed over your chest. “You.. wanna try it?” you asked. 
He was a bit hesitant, he still partially believed it would hurt. Didn't girls always talk about how beauty was pain? But also… he was a guy. Wouldn’t makeup make him like, less masculine?
 “I don’t know…” he mumbled. “You’re gonna put makeup on me?” He asked, narrowing his eyes a bit, not at you, though. At that pointy pencil between your fingers.
You rolled your eyes despite the smile on your lips, which he always thought was an attractive quirk of yours, and the gesture made him smirk a bit in return. “Adam… every rockstar wears eyeliner.” you explained with that same smile he thought was really enticing. 
“Every rockstar?” he said a bit jeeringly. 
“Only the best… Billy Joe Armstrong, Bowie, Ozzy Osbourne, Alice Cooper…” Your smile widened a bit as you continued on, and Adam couldn’t help but roll his eyes, though this time a small smile pulled on his lips too.
“Whatever.” he said, though that was the closest thing you’d get to a yes from him.
“C’mere…” 
His gaze drifted from your eyes to your arm outstretching, finally to your hand as you held it out to him. He rolled his eyes in an attempt to keep up his arrogant nonchalance, though he silently begged that his cheeks hadn’t blushed. Especially when your fingers entangled with his. 
He let you guide him to sit on the lid of the toilet seat, and watched with shaky breaths as you stood in front of him… between his legs. Only to be close to him, of course… right? 
When you brought the pencil up to his eye he immediately flinched away, listening to your little scoff at his cowardice. “Shut up.” he bit back.
“Adam, I swear it doesn’t hurt. Don’t you trust me?” 
Goddamnit, how the hell was he supposed to say no to that sweet tone in your voice!?
“If you stab me in the eye, you’re paying the full rent.” he threatened, narrowing his eyes slightly as his gaze darted between that pencil and your eyes. 
“I won’t stab you in the eye if you don’t move.” Your tone held a sense of focus as you brought the pencil back closer to him again, and he couldn’t help but close his eyes. 
“Adam…” you huffed, making him open his eyes again.
“What!? You’ve got a sharp pencil so close to my eye! You really expect me to just be calm or some shit!?” he scoffed. 
“Don’t be a baby,” you teased and before he had time to even process what you were doing, he found you practically straddling his lap, your hand holding onto his cheek. 
His breath hitched in his throat, but he covered it up by pretending to clear his throat. Your body was so warm pressed against him… and so soft.
Oh fuck… he was blushing. 
It seemed like you knew what you were doing though, because his eyes were practically glued to you. Wide and unblinking, not wanting to miss a single one of your movements. 
And you took the opportunity and ran with it. You brought the pencil to his eye, almost touching, and he clenched his jaw a bit to resist his urge to close his eyes or flinch away. 
“Look up for me.” you instructed as you gently tilted his head downwards, and he obliged your directions, glancing up at the ceiling. 
He was scared as shit as the pencil grew closer and closer to his eye… but then suddenly it tickled? He couldn’t help but pull back slightly from the sensation.
“What the fuck…?” he huffed a laugh, which only made you laugh too.
“I told you it didn’t hurt. But you have to stay still okay? It’s gonna tickle a little bit, just try to ignore it.” you reassured him as you gently gripped his face a bit more firmly. 
He definitely noticed the way you leaned into him to get closer, your face only inches from his and he suppressed the urge to groan, instead bringing his gaze up towards the ceiling like he’d done before.
Adam fought with every ounce of strength to not let his eyes shut in defiance as the pencil tickled his waterline. He was relieved when you’d moved from his left eye to his right, figuring you were finally finished. But when you said it was time for the top, his eyes widened a bit.
“You’ll be fine, just look down this time.” you said, tilting his head up, and begrudgingly he obeyed. You gently placed your fingers on his eyelid, tugging it up as the pencil met his upper lash line.
“Jesus christ… this tickles worse.” he practically whined. He ignored the smile that pulled on your lips in response to his griping. 
What he couldn’t ignore though, was how cute you looked like this. Sitting on his lap, your eyes soft but so focused on lining his eyes perfectly. Your fingers gently guiding and pulling at his face. He liked your touch… maybe a little too much. 
That thought only made him blush and he looked away from you, still keeping his gaze downward like you’d instructed him too. He knew if he looked at your thighs pressed to his, his blush would only grow worse. Hell, his face would probably envy a tomato at that point. 
You worked from his left to his right eye again, and the sensation definitely didn’t get easier the second time around. It was insufferable, like a stuck eyelash that was constantly tickling and poking into his eyelid. “Are you done yet? This sucks… you like doing this!?” he asked, his tone full of disbelief. 
“Relax.” you said simply, running the pencil along his upper lash line a few more times before you pulled the pencil away completely. And leaned back away from him which he wouldn’t admit he didn’t like so much.
“Now just rub your eyes.” you said, reaching over to grab the pencil’s cap from the sink and sliding it over the pointy end. 
He looked at you quizzically for a moment. “But you just did all that… to mess it up?”
Your little laugh unwillingly pulled a small smile of his own to his lips. “Yeah, pretty much. That’s what makes it look cool… and like you don’t give a fuck.” you explained, and oddly enough, you were speaking Adam’s language. 
He huffed a laugh, still feeling a bit ridiculous, but obliged, using the heel of his palms to rub both of his eyes at the same time. When you gently grabbed at his wrists to tug his hands away, he peered up at you.  
He watched as a smile pulled on your lips as you looked him over. “Totally bad-ass.” you reassured him. 
Adam had to suppress a pout as you slid off his lap. He’d gotten really used to that closeness, and now that it was gone, he missed it. He wouldn’t admit it, of course. But he perked up when he realized now he could see what you’d done. 
Pulling himself to stand up, he turned to stand beside you in front of the mirror. “Damn,” he said simply. Your eyes were practically glued to his reflection, and he could tell you were worried that he’d hated it. He let a small smirk pull on his lips. “I look punk rock.” 
He tilted his head in a few different directions, looking over, and practically admiring his appearance in the mirror. He did look pretty cool and that made him feel cool too. “Maybe I should be the guitarist and singer for Wrath of the Gods instead of you.” he teased, earning him a gentle elbow to the ribs which made him laugh. 
He looked from his own reflection to yours beside him, and the way your eyes matched. It felt strangely intimate… and he liked it. He tangled his arm over your shoulders, pulling you into him–wanting to feel your closeness, but easily played it off as a friendly gesture. 
“What do you think? You think I look cool enough now?” he asked, enjoying the way you rolled your eyes despite your smile, and how you didn’t reject his touch… and instead you seemed to lean into it. 
“If you want me to tell you that you’re always cool… it’s not gonna happen.” you teased back, making him laugh. He liked that you were a little spunky. It only made him more attracted to you.
“Okay, okay… fine.” he said with another small laugh before turning his head to actually look at you, not your reflection. “We look pretty punk rock together, huh?” he asked a bit teasingly, though he was pleased at the way you practically giggled. You’d never giggled before and it felt like a huge accomplishment to him. 
“Shut up, Stanheight. You’re such a dork.” You rolled your eyes, but still had that same intoxicating smile. 
He glanced down towards your lips, telling himself he was just admiring the way they curved into the most precious smile he’d ever seen, but he knew that wasn’t true. He was actually wondering if your lips were really as soft as they looked. 
“Shit! We gotta go, Adam!” you interrupted his thoughts as you practically dashed from the bathroom. He glanced in the direction of the clock on the stove, seeing your source of panic. 
“Oh fuck, Scott’s gonna kill us both.” He quickly followed after you, hurrying to his darkroom to grab his camera, looping it around his neck as he met you back by the front door of the apartment. 
He admired only for a moment how good you looked with your guitar case strapped over your shoulder, and he couldn’t deny his excitement to see you on stage performing with so much energy and passion like you always did. 
You were quite the little rockstar, and he liked that. 
It was a silly thought,  but he also liked that your eyeliner matched… like in a weird way, your matching eye makeup was a claim on each other. He just hoped you were thinking the same thing he was. 
“C’mon!” you said, snatching up his hand as you ripped open the front door, pulling him along so hastily he barely had time to shut the door behind him. 
“Hey, hey… slow down,” he said as a bit of a huff. You begrudgingly slowed your roll, peering over your shoulder at him as you dropped his hand. He anxiously ran his fingers through his hair. 
“I was just kinda wondering… if you’d let me kiss you without the guys around.” When he noticed the way your brows raised at his request he quickly stumbled out, “You know! For good luck, duh!” 
Before he even had a moment to backpedal, say that he was just fucking around, there it was again, that soft little laugh that was practically a giggle.
“Well… if it’s for good luck.” you said, stepping closer to him and making his heart race in his chest. He gently reached up and cupped the side of your face, tilting your head up a bit as he leaned in. He watched the way you leaned in too as your eyes fluttered softly shut, and he swore he melted in that moment.
He shut his eyes too, as he closed the distance between your lips, kissing you softly. It only lasted a few moments before you pulled away first, though he didn’t mind. He was awestruck that you’d even let him kiss you. 
He got to kiss you, and he knew for a fact that your lips were indeed as soft as they looked. He was a fish and you cast out the line, hooking him in. He didn’t just want to kiss you again, he felt like he had to. Until your words quickly shut down that desire.
“C’mon, let’s go before Scott loses his shit over how late we are.” you said with a small, almost shy smile. 
“No way…! What if that wasn’t enough good luck!?” he playfully argued, making you laugh. 
“Then if we totally blow tonight, I’ll let you give me a little extra good luck later. Deal?” you offered, and this time, it was his turn to laugh. 
“Okay, fine… deal.” he agreed a bit reluctantly, though that reluctance faded as soon as you tangled your arm around his waist, and he did the same to you.
Usually he hated being the personal photographer for Scott and Wrath of the Gods, but tonight he was rather excited about it. He already knew most of his pictures would be of you. 
And even if you guys killed it tonight… he was still dead set on giving you that extra good luck once you guys got home later, anyways.
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deathbyathousandspiders · 1 year ago
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“ cuddle–bugs. „
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(( request PART TWO )).
!!! read part one | part three | part four | part five here !!!
mcu!peter parker x reader.
IN WHICH — you fell asleep on your best friend’s shoulder during movie night and the avengers won’t let you live it down.
author’s note ; okay so i made this a winter/christmas fic on accident cause i miss it. you’re welcome:,) ALSO !! lmk if y’all want me to add you to the part 3 tag list;)
✨masterlist✨.
3.2k.
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It’d been two nights, and you still couldn’t boggle the thought of Peter from your brain. Well, boggle the romantic thought of Peter from your brain. You had always been extra thoughtful and considerate of your best friend, but you never realized just how much you were until two nights ago. Two nights ago, when you had the best sleep of your life, passed out on Peter’s shoulder. Two nights ago, before Sam and Bucky started ogling you and Peter like no one’s business. Two nights ago, the last time you got a successful wink of sleep.
Shit.
Perhaps you were lying to yourself– No. You were definitely lying to yourself. Peter Parker was your best friend, but you knew that your feelings for him were far from that simple. You were the first one to notice when he entered a room, and the first to feel his absence when he’d leave. You knew him better than anyone else did; he was written in a language that you’d carefully taken the time to understand. You just hoped that he’d taken the time to understand you just the same way.
The thought was gnawing at you, feeding on the anxiety that had kept you up all night. There was no way you could act on this, nor express your thoughts to him. And there certainly was no damn fucking way in hell you could look him in the eyes while you tried to process your feelings.
As the sun rose, so did you. Seeing as you had barely slept an hour, starting your day as early as possible seemed like your best option — even if that meant peeling yourself from your bed at four in the morning.
Your breath visibly filled the passing air as you ran the outdoor track in the courtyard. Winter’s chill was spiteful at such an early hour, but it was just the medicine you needed to give you energy after an all–nighter. The wind welcomed you with a sharp bite along your exposed skin, which was mainly your cheeks whilst you ran. Steve had taught you a thing or two about going on runs, and covering up in the winter was one of them.
The day went on tediously; constantly training, working on paperwork, and avoiding the company of Peter Parker. The latter was the most difficult. He was your best friend for crying out loud. You still couldn’t shake your nerves, or stomach the embarrassment that your teammates would cause you from their teases. There were already too many close calls.
While you were practicing close–hand combat in the gym, Bucky approached you. At first, he criticized your form and shadowed you for critique, but after a few minutes of ice breaking, he was quick to give some snickers and googly–eyes.
“Hang on there, cowboy.” He started, right hand hovering just beside your wrist. “You need to hold your shoulders back so that your punch gives a harder blow..” That’s when the devious smirk shadowed his face. “Unless, you’re planning to tussle with your boyfriend.”
The sharp breath you exhaled in response was a lot more intense than you’d initially intended. “He’s not my boyfriend!” The tone of voice you gave was also more intense than you intended, especially as you unconsciously gritted your teeth. And gathered from the way Bucky’s eyes widened at your punch, you took it that the impact was, once again, more intense than you’d intended.
You blamed the sleep depravity.
Later on, post–shower, you went to the kitchen to grab your second energy drink of the day. You felt your shoulders ease and your eyelids grow a bit heavier as you popped the metal can open. The quiet simmer of the carbonation was melodic whilst you downed half the serving, on spot. You were so focused on obtaining the beverage that you nearly missed Natasha looming in the corner.
“Cute sweatshirt.” She chimed, arms crossed while she watched you from the furthest crevasse of the kitchen.
Eying her, you could see the silhouette of her smirk. It immediately sent you questioning why she looked at you so smug. Your gaze fell to which baggy sweatshirt you decided to wear, suddenly insecure about it. It was a Midtown marching band hoodie; royal blue, faded–vintage yellow writings. It took you a beat or two to remember where you got it, but when you did–
“Is it your boyfriend’s?”
Shit.
Frustration bubbled through your system. Except, it wasn’t frustration towards the team. It was frustration towards yourself. How much of a coward did you have to be to act so nervous? To not be able to look Peter in the eye? To avoid any entertainment of the thought of the two of you together?
Well, if ignoring those thoughts made you a coward, perhaps you weren’t the biggest one. Most nights, when you couldn’t sleep, you used the image of his torso spooning yours to get you some peace of mind. The warmth of his arm hugging your waist, the slight tickle of his breath on the back of your neck, and the safety of his little kisses hidden in your hairline. In fact, you thought about it most times; however, last night, thinking about it made you feel unbelievably guilty.
You found that guilt and sleep don’t mix too well.
Hours later, you sat yourself in the meeting room, hacking away as best as you could at your training reports for the day. The task was stupid, but you were understanding of it. It just didn’t help that you felt the weight of only sleeping an hour creeping up on you. Your eyes felt like they carried a thousand pounds to them.
A gentle knock met the doorframe, catching your attention from your assignment. Your eyes met Wanda’s, curiously. The curiosity fled your expression the split second she opened her mouth.
“Peter’s looking for you. Should I tell him–”
Annoyance scrunched in your nose, and an anguished huff pushed itself out of your throat. Your elbows met the table quietly, hands rushing to cradle your face in it as you tried to keep your composure. “He’s not my boyfriend!” You cried.
Still, Wanda held patience to herself. Now she was the one who looked at you curiously, arching a brow as she noticed how troubled you were. You already knew she was reading you like a book with her telepathy. Wanda had already flipped through your thoughts front and back by the time you’d finished your response. “I know. He’s your best friend, and he’s looking for you.” Her voice was so gentle, you wanted it to swaddle you and lull you to sleep.
Just before she took her leave, Wanda kept a sympathetic smile on her face. She’d already started to step out of sight, but she had a closing thought. “And, y’know.. I felt the same way you do now with Vis.” She hummed, “The only way to relieve yourself from it is to talk to him.”
Which brought you here. Now. At eleven twenty–three in the evening. You sat yourself on the same couch that started this spiral, chipping away tirelessly at the paperwork you vowed to finish. Though, your progress consisted of staring at the document blankly. You were closer to passing out than you were to actually typing out a sentence.
“You should get some sleep.”
The second you met Peter’s eyes, you felt it immediately. That zing. That spark. The knot in your stomach that guilted you for avoiding him all day. You couldn’t even muster out a response to give to him. Part of that definitely had to do with the fact that he was in his pajamas; flannel pajama pants, and no shirt. It wasn’t the first time you saw him shirtless, though the sight of his abs, especially right now, took your breath away a little.
His palms pressed against the head of the chair, leaning on it as he rocked back and forth on his feet. His brows slowly knit together the longer it took you to reply, obviously worried about you. “Are you not speaking to me? Did I do something?” The second question was quick to follow the first.
Your expression mirrored his, though with less worry and more defense. “What? No.” You stated, shutting your laptop without breaking eye contact. “Why would you think you did something wrong?” It churned your tummy to think that he’d been overthinking about this all day. Then again, if you were in his shoes, you’d have been thinking the exact same things.
It wasn’t hard to notice the relief that settled his posture, or the hesitance that lingered in his stare. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe you, it was more that he wasn’t sure he could yet. “Because this is the longest you’ve gone without speaking to me since fifth grade.”
The urge to roll your eyes at him was strong, but the smile you had to fight off was more distracting. “Peter, I didn’t speak to you because I had laryngitis. I literally couldn’t!”
He smiled back at you, gesturing his hand towards you to emphasize his point. “Exactly!” Peter made his way around the chair, seating himself beside you on the couch. “I just got worried.” He made sure there was enough space between the two of you, nervous that you’d be upset if he sat too close. “Are you okay though? You look like you didn’t get any sleep.” And suddenly, you were reminded that you couldn’t hide from him like you wanted to.
You nearly forgot that Peter was your best friend. He studied you before you even had the chance to notice he was in the room, half the time. Wanda’s words bounced around in your brain, but the idea of communicating all of that right now made your stomach churn worse. Slowly shaking your head, you moved to set your laptop on the coffee table beside you, quick to turn your attention back to the boy beside you. “I, uh.. I’m just stressed, is all.” You shrugged, simplifying your emotions.
Peter’s stare narrowed at you, concerned. “Stressed about what?” Once again, his eyes scanned over your face, trying to find the answer he was looking for before you felt the need to say it. When he found how panic it brought you, he stopped. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
It felt like a weight lifted from your shoulders at how understanding Peter was. You smiled lightly at him, focus flickering between one of his eyes to the other. Maybe it was because a smile began to touch his lips too, or because you felt unbelievably seen by him, but your heart swelled more than it ever had before. “I’d rather not talk about it right now.” You answered, honestly. “I should get some sleep first. I’m just…”
As you trailed off, Peter picked up the sentence where you couldn’t finish it. “Nervous about sleep?” His voice got softer as he asked the question, smile growing when you nodded in agreement. He waited a moment, brewing a few different solutions in his head. “Can I help?”
You could feel the way your heart raced at Peter’s earnesty, happily realizing you couldn’t turn down the offer. Nodding, you eyed him closely, watching as he grinned at you. He grabbed a throw blanket from beneath the coffee table, and the remote for the flat–screen while he was at it. Peter turned the television on and sat back on the couch, extending his arm for you to lean on him.
“You sure you want me to cuddle with you? You’re shirtless.” You pointed out, verbally self–sabotaging yourself. Idiotically self–sabotaging yourself.
Peter raised a brow at you, laughing quietly. Though, there was a slight blush creeping along his cheekbones. “That hasn’t stopped you in the past.”
A small fit of laughter drove your decision as you laid yourself beside him; head cozy in his shoulder, and your body pressed against the side of his. He laid the blanket over the two of you, but the arm he had hugging around you was the most securing. His fingertips gently brushed tiny shapes into your forearm, and Peter knew exactly which movie to put on to whisk you off to slumber.
Watching your comfort movie was quite a tempting offer, but you still couldn’t stop your eyes from shutting. Peace overtook you before you could catch it, and you couldn’t exactly remember the moment sleep finally conquered you. The last thing you remember hearing was Peter’s faint whisper to ask FRIDAY to dim the lights.
Peter watched you sleep more than the movie. He couldn’t stop himself, seeing how cute you were. He found himself in the same spot he was just two nights ago; gently rubbing your shoulders and back, brushing the hair back that fell into your face, and listening to the stilling sound of your breath as it slowed with your slumber. It made his heart swell.
The second he knew you were passed out, he stealthily turned the television off and scooped you into his arms. Peter lifted you delicately, swaddling you in the blanket and carrying you off to your bedroom.
As he laid you down on your bed, a particular piece of room decor caught his eye; the newest addition, something he’d never seen before. His cheeks grew ablaze with pink at the framed photo on your nightstand, taking in every aspect of the picture. His heart raced, a dorky grin touching his lips when he finally read Sam’s sticky note.
Peter was pulled from his thoughts at the feeling of your gentle fingertips grasping his arm. He heard the sheets settle beneath your stirring, and the soft grumbles sifting through your lips. Feeling your hand grasp at his elbow and tug him towards you made his heart skip a beat. The hug you pulled him into was all he needed to know that you wanted him to stay. And that, he did.
He lost track of how long he’d slept for, or when you decided to get up without waking him, but he wasn’t mad about it. Peter had one of the best sleeps of his life, and he had you to thank for that. He had you to thank for everything
Peter had never woken up feeling so rejuvenated. He felt like a brand new person; alive, ravished, loved. He felt validated by Sam’s little sticky note, and finally connected the pieces on why you were so jittery around him. He’d seen you interact with a handful of people you’d found attractive, and now he understood that he was also in that category. At least, if his assumptions were correct. He at least had woken up with a fresh coat of confidence today to make him believe his assumptions.
It was routine for his thoughts to drift somewhere in the midst of you. Every sense of him found you intoxicating and now more than ever did he cherish it. He inhaled the lingering aroma of you left over from your sleeping figure, and grew a smile at the sound of your laughter that carried itself through the compound’s corridors. The same laugh that he’d heard all too often.
Wait.
You usually only laughed that hard at his jokes.
Peter slowed his slippered–steps toward the kitchen, peering his focus to where the sweet sound came from. His heart swelled in his chest at the sight of you so happy, but immediately dropped to the floor when he saw you so happy with a guy. A vaguely familiar guy. A strikingly too attractive guy. It sent a sharp chill through his bloodstream and made it boil beneath his skin.
“A little birdy told me that Harley’s been meaning to ask them out before he leaves.” Sam’s voice cut through the quiet, though he made a means that the information didn’t leave the kitchen. His voice stayed soft, secretive.
Harley. Harley Keener. That’s why his name was so familiar. The Harley Keener: Tony Stark’s protégé intern, who’s attending Stanford for mechanical engineering, and skyrocketing as one of the most influential teenagers of this generation for his work on climate change. Peter recalled the six three articles he’d read just last week on Harley’s work. What was he doing here? And what the fuck was he doing here talking to you?
Peter’s focus remained stuck on the sight of you and Harley talking down the hall. The second his gears finally processed what Sam had told him, he turned his head to look over, eyes landing last on Sam by the espresso machine. “What do you mean?”
Sam shrugged lightly, his lips pressing into a line as he stirred the sugar in with his coffee. “I heard that while he’s here on break, he’s planning to ask Y/N out.” He let the sentence fall from his mouth with a sigh, disappointment tracing the sound of his voice. “Sources say, he’s planning to pop the question before Hanukkah starts.”
It hit him like bricks, the urgency. The punch to the gut. The confidence Peter had woken up with withered somewhere he couldn’t grasp anymore. He glanced out of the windows behind him, watching the snowfall cover the courtyard. Hanukkah was in four days. Peter still had some time, but would it be enough?
“Wait.” He started, turning his attention back to Sam. “What source?” Peter walked into the kitchen, placing his hands on his bare hips. He was still in his pajamas, messy hair and shirtless torso. His outfit merely consisted of flannel pajama pants and dinosaur slippers. “Were you using your mini drone to eavesdrop again?”
Sam chuckled, trying hard to act like he wasn’t offended. “I’m going to pretend that you didn’t call Redwing that.” He acted like his remote control helicopter actually had a name. “But no. My source’s name happens to rhyme with boney shark.”
Shit.
If Tony really said that, it meant that Harley was actually serious about this. The Avengers were definitely prone to tease, but they were far from the crowd who’d start rumors. The bitter taste of jealousy weighed on Peter’s tongue, and he could already feel the sickening aftertaste caking in the back of his throat. He swallowed, thicker than he had in what felt like a decade. It felt like he had forced down an entire jar of peanut butter.
Sam saw the way Peter froze in his tracks. He walked over, steps slow to prevent spilling any of his precious latte from its mug. He gently placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder, turning his attention to where Peter’s naturally gravitated back to; the way you and Harley interacted definitely seemed intimidating, but Sam wasn’t going to let Peter give up that easily.
“Another little birdy told me that boney shark hopes you beat him to it.” Sam’s voice suddenly got smoother, lower, as though his words had a deeper meaning. And to Peter, they did. The boy seemed to lighten up, processing Sam’s words like they were prophetic. “And that birdy’s name rhymes with shmaptain shmerica.”
Sam took that as his cue to leave, knowing that he said what he needed to. Quite frankly, he said more than enough to shake Peter out of his doubtful thoughts. There was no way in hell that Sam Wilson was a liar, which only added to how true the statement was.
If Steve–liberty–and–justice–for–all–Rogers was in on this, that meant something truly powerful. It meant that his team was rooting for him. Knowing that may not have given Peter’s confidence back to him, but it gave him something even more important. Something that grounded him back to the present unlike anything else, and something that he’d never take for granted:
Hope.
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avaf00rd · 10 months ago
Text
With my best friend
Caitlin Foord x Reader
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Warnings : slight mention of anxiety, break up
Summary : in which lifelong Best friends slowly come to senses about their close connection to their number one person.
————————————————————————
2011
“hi I’m y/n” you said to a shorter girl who looked just as nervous as you.
“Yeah I know. They said your name before”
“Oh yeah of course” you said pulling your hand away as you had it out to shake. Pretty formal for 17 year olds. She then grabbed your hand from my side back up again and shook it “Caitlin”
You smiled as you both focused you attention onto the information evening of the Matilda’s new squad members.
——————
2011
“Caitlin you did it I flipping knew it!” You squealed to your roommate. She was starting for Australia, for the first time of her career and you couldn’t have been prouder.
“And I get to start with you!” She squealed as you both jumped around your hotel room.
You two were both in New Zealand when you were called about you both starting together. You made your debut last week, coming on in the last 5 minutes. But Caitlin would make her debut starting.
The game the next day: you managed to receive a pass from Clare as you ran up the field. You felt no one too close on you but you spotted Caitlin completely open just close enough to the goal, possibly not even close enough to you. You still passed to her just near the goal, a pretty impressive pass, as she sent a header straight into the back of the net. Slipping just past the keepers hands. She yelled in excitement as you jumped straight into your best friends arms.
“You did it cait!” You screamed holding her face in your hands before the rest of your Australian teammates jumped onto the two of you, causing you to collapse.
——————
2020 (quite the time jump ngl)
“Hey you” you felt arms wrap around your sweaty neck. It was your girlfriend Ona. You had just beaten her Spanish team 2-1 in your match tonight. You celebrated with your respected team after your win while ona had a chat with hers. After signing shirts and posters and doing your laps around the stadium. You were standing around with Macca, Caitlin and Alanna before your girlfriend greeted all of you.
You turned around to give her a big hug, wrapping your arms tightly around her neck. “Proud of you” she whispered as she kissed your cheek.
“Even more proud of you”
She smiled at you before you both turned back around to your three best friends “hey guys” ona said before hugging all of them.
Caitlin’s POV
Ona seemed brilliant for y/n. I don’t see her smile that much than when she’s with her. But there’s just something about her, something sour that turns me off about when she’s with y/n.
I hugged her lightly, smiling. Knowing how much this meant for y/n. Seeing us get along with her. I’ve seen Ona put stress on y/n, it’s from the long distance. Some nights in our hotel room she has been teary about how difficult it gets. I think it’s that that is bugging me.
——————
2021
“So fucking stupid” y/n sobbed into Alannas arms as we were in her hotel room. At another camp.
The long distance no longer worked for ona and my best friend. “Like it’s like all that trying and effort for the long distance wasn’t even worth it!” She exclaimed into Alan as shoulder.
“Oh Sweet Girl it was I promise it was” alanna soothed to her.
I did feel terrible. The couple had been together since when they met at Barca in 2018. And everyone loved them together. My heart ached at y/ns state. Soaking Alannas top, while Mac ran her hands through her hair. I said some words to her as I sat close to her.
After about 4 hours of room service, and 2 marvel movies. Y/n and me saw the other two girls out. As I shut the door, y/n pulled me close into a bone crushing hug. I wrapped my arms around her torso.
“Thank you for that. Love you” she said before pulling away and hopping into the shower.
—————
July 2021
Y/n’s pov
I gripped tightly onto Caitlin’s hand as the plane went through multiple stages of turbulence over the last hour. For the past 10 years, you had always held her hands during bumpy travel together. It just soothed your plane anxiety.
———
The final whistle blew as you fell to your knees. Hands covering your face. It was the semi finals, you had made it. And you went down 1-0 to Sweden. Tears slowly tried to fall out of your eyes. As you quickly brushed them away. Once finding yourself again moments later and standing up. You hugged some of the Swedish girls and then embraced Sam in a tight hug. Both showing how proud of each other you were. When in Sam’s arms, you looked over her shoulder to find your best friend standing by herself looking up to the sky in disbelief. You let yourself out of Sam’s arms before smiling at her then jogging over to Caitlin. She didn’t notice you at first as you pulled her towards you to giver her a huge hugger. Her head hung low on your shoulder, “I’m proud of you. And for that goal” you whispered.
“Thanks” she said holding you tighter. It was slightly disappointing. You were so close to reaching that gold medal, but just slipped before the last step.
————
The very short plane back to London was soothing. A smooth trip with sleepy girls. So it was very relaxing. Caitlin very quickly fell asleep in her seat next to you. She slept with her mouth hung open which made you giggle. You quickly snapped a photo before posting it to your close friends instagram story. You found yourself in your camera roll looking at the photo just taken. Then the suggestions of Caitlin box came up under the photo. You clicked on it as the photos app took you to all of the photos of you and Caitlin. From as long as you remembered. You smiled remembering the memories. She really has been the glue to your whole life.
—————
A/N
Ok so there is no romance between Caitlin and reader in this. But there be part 2 super soon so hold your nickers.
Luv yall💗💗
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etherealsworldvision · 6 months ago
Text
Let’s Soothe Your Mind
Before I begin the reading I’d like to take a moment to talk about Save The Redwoods. They’re a non-profit organization who is committed to protect and restore redwood forests. If you’re interested do check out their website and if you’d like to further your support here is their donation link.
Divider Credits: @ianrkives & @plum98
New Song Discovery for the Reading: Reservations – Dugong Jr, Julia Lostrom, Keelan Mak
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Pile 1 Pile 2 Pile 3
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🚨 P.S.A 🚨 : I do not give personal readings! Disclaimer: this is for entertainment only!
Added Description: all my readings are timeless and meant to reach those who resonate to the messages.
[ General Messages: Rain; Autumn; Libra and Leo Seasons, “My love do you ever dream of candy coated raindrops”- Candy Rain by Soul for Real, Longboards (Skateboarding and Surfing); Raya the Last Dragon; Dewdrop; Spicy (foods); Avatar the Last Airbender; Fire Flakes; Honeydew; Drinks; Tantrums; Saturn Hour; Saturn Placements and Aspects; (Smithsonian) Museums; 1010; Kendrick Lamar; Trouble - Taylor Swift; Caught Up; Cheat; Exclusion; (Reaction) Memes; Distrust; Camping; Tents; Connections; Frustration; Online ]
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Pile 1
[ Cards: Justice; Moon Reversed; Ace of Wands; Seven of Cups Reversed; Two of Wands ]
Confirmation Messages: Gojo & Geto; Anxiety (Playlist); “Get off of me/Ew get away,” (directed towards emotions feeling stuck to your body or feels like “bugs” crawling on skin); Anxiousness; Nervousness; Shadow and Bones (?); Shadow Hunters; Slowing Down; Chaotic Energy; Out of Control; Bugs; (Breaking) Habits; Messy Thoughts; Strategic; “Playing it Cool”; Patrick Star?; Hares; Hates Feeling Emotions; Pink Flowers (Real or Artificial); Systems Down; Mewing (?)
Something new might have happened or you feel like this is the universe (or whoever you believe in) giving you something. This energy feels like Carl and Cindy’s interaction (from Jimmy Neutron). In this case you’re Carl and Cindy is the universe lol. Maybe you were in a rut or had a cycle of “unfortunate events” in regard to circumstances or people.
If you’re asking for clarification: You have free will — it’s up to you whether you want to continue what you’re doing or not. I’m not sensing anything “bad” or “malicious” intent in regards to what/who you’re inquiring about. There’s this sense of catastrophizing new things. There’s also this feeling of “too good to be true”. I don’t know if you said/thought/felt this: “I need a fucking break” is strongly coming in.
So now that you have this break — it’s almost like you don’t know what to do or how to proceed. It’s as if you’re holding a globe but you don’t get to actually go anywhere. Maybe at one point you did get experience with this, only to be let down? Either way having no control is what’s scaring you and causing this anxiousness (especially if this deals with a person).
What’s coming in for those who are iffy about proceeding: “let them, just let them because you are your own before and after meeting this person”. This can also deal with a situation too — as in this doesn’t define you. There is no need to punish/blame yourself for being afraid/ not taking this offer. It just means you weren’t ready and that’s okay. Go at your own pace.
For those of you who want to proceed with this situation/person then you’ll have to let down your walls bit by bit. Again it’s okay to go at your own pace or ask to slow down. The same applies: “let them”. The door is always open so let them or “let you”. You can always set it down and move to the next one. It’s okay.
Bonus Question to Ask Yourself: “What did I keep doing that keeps hurting? Why do I keep repeating this behavior?” - by WNRS
So that’s all that I’m getting for pile 1. If you made it this far, thank you so much for reading this, I really appreciate it. If this resonates let me know. I am supporting you through and through 🧡!
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Pile 2
[ Cards: Three of Swords Reversed; 3 of Pentacles Reversed; 6 of Swords; 5 of Pentacles Reversed; 9 Of Swords; 3 of Wands ]
Confirmation Messages: Courage; Charli XCX (Brat album); The Sun; Music; Concerts; Celebrity; Billie Eilish; Air and Earth Placements; Careless; Responsibility; Overthinker; New Things; Success; Moving On; 55; 66; 333; 9; Truth; Waiting; Patience; Releasing Judgement; Let it flow; Getting or Wanting Numbers? Holding Back; Calculated Risks; Chappell Roan; Doechii; Temptation - Raveena; Gemini; Aries
So I’m feeling like you’re releasing this heartache (for some it could be from your past?) I don’t know why, I pulled a clarification and it’s the 10 of Cups and I heard “No that’s so scary, Boo Feelings and Happiness!” So maybe you’re afraid of things working out because you were always let down in the past.
I feel like this can be about a connection (?) — there’s a lot of air coming in which means social lives. This may have come when things just started to calm down or in the midst of healing? To be honest this pile’s energy tends to overthink a lot. Like I feel like there’s this thing where you’re scared of saying the wrong thing which makes you take a step back only to make the overthinking worse. Maybe you’re asking friends what to do because I split the deck and saw 3 of Cups.
For some reason I feel like you need more reassurance so I’ll just pull out more cards for you. So I got the 2 of cups and the Eight of Wands (reversed), Judgement, and the Emperor. The first thing I’m picking up is that: you two may have opposite personalities or are awake at different times because we have two blue cards and two gold cards.
I’m also getting that the pace is painfully slow despite things going smoothly. It’s like you want to take control but you’re aware it won’t go smoothly if you rush it. For some of you there’s this thing of being afraid to take the “lead” or being pressured by society to take the lead.
(Side note: I don’t know who needs to hear this but there’s no hierarchy in a connection. There’s no, “who wears the pants” or whatever heteronormative stuff that gets constantly pushed into connections. What makes a connection work is when both people see each other as equals and accepting of one another)
You’re going to hate me for this but…it takes time and teamwork for a connection to work out. So yeah, go at your own comfortable pace (not a pace society tells you to go by) and enjoy the present time. For some reason I really have to “hammer it in” to take your time; let this connection take its time. Let things fall into place all on its own and if you feel called to do something (meaning the timing is right) then by all means take that initiative.
When you let things slowly progress you will also get a better understanding and feel of this person, from there you can see if you want to proceed or not.
Bonus Questions to Ask Yourself: “When have I given too much of myself in a relationship (could also be platonic)? What did that look like? What lesson did that leave me with?” - WNRS
That’s really all I’m getting, to be honest this reading is so chaotic and so long even though it barely reached 5 paragraphs. If you made it this far thank you so much, I appreciate it. I’m wishing you luck and please take your time!
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Pile 3
[ Cards: Queen of Pentacles; 7 of Swords; Justice; Five of Cups Reversed; 8 of Pentacles; 7 of Cups; 7 of Pentacles ]
Confirmation Messages: Horror Games; Paranormal; Libra; Yellowjackets; Birds of a Feather; Unrequited; Nevada; Winter; Baby Powder; Scents; Insincerity; Friday; Outcasts; Water(falls); Late Spring; (Couples) Therapy; 777; (Down by the Water) PJ Harvey; Library; Goth (Music); Unknown; Earth Placement; Situationship; Clear Mind; Tiredness; “Success is the Best Revenge”; Lana Del Rey; Distractions; Cheating; 1:23
You may have left a connection or felt this person was dishonest. I think what made it worse is outside advice (which is ironic because y’know we’re here lol). Perhaps someone gave you the, “time heals all wounds” or “it’s okay! Just get pretty and focus on your job!” Only to feel dread, I’m not going to lie. I don’t know if you put a limit to your sadness because there’s this sense of, “I should be over this by now.” I feel like some of you did achieve this success/glow up you wanted yet still feel grief.
Honestly, it’s okay to grieve as long as you want to. There is no time limit to feel grief and sadness. Realistically speaking, grief stays with us. Grief can come in the form of memories popping up or when you feel nostalgic — that’s a part of grief and that’s okay. All we can do is look at them and see them for who they are and what they did. (Now, I’m not excusing their actions at all!) For example; it’s one of those things where someone waits for years to get closure only to get nothing and in the end they accept they’ll never get it.
I know this may sound bitter and for some bittersweet, but let the grief flow. You’re not crying over “spilt milk”, for all we know it’s not just spilt milk! Maybe it was milk you got with your hard earned money and now you don’t have milk because you just spent the last portions of your money so you can wipe your ass! So no, it’s not just milk! (lol sorry I just hate when the 5 of cups gets that connotation — there’s always something deeper to it.)
Look, distracting yourself out of emotions via deep diving in your work isn’t always the best thing to do. Sometimes you need silence (no music or sounds!) and sit with yourself. Really sit, lay or something with yourself and be vulnerable. Sit with that feeling for just a minute (not drown in it) because it’s asking to be acknowledged. Acknowledgment is a key to acceptance and with that comes the healing.
I feel like when you do acknowledge your grief, come to terms with the situation/person for who they are it’ll make the healing process bearable. I’m not saying it’ll be easier and you’ll be happy at a flip of a coin. I’m just saying because of this acceptance you may find you’re not doing your work/hobbies/goals for the sake of revenge but because it’s for you. You’re doing these things because you love it or for your own happiness/fulfillment.
Bonus Question to Ask Yourself: “What’s my favorite song at the moment? Why do I love it so much? (Play it for yourself)”. - by WNRS
Alrighty Pile 3 that’s all I got for you, thank you so much for reading until the very end! I appreciate it. I'm giving you some peace and love 🧡.
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lovelettersforthedamned · 11 months ago
Note
tasm!peter finds your love letter to him that you never gave him because you are too embarrassed to show him
Big Words On A Little Page
--genre: FLUFF, SO MUCH FLUFF.
--pairing: tasm!peter parker x gn!reader
--word count: 0.7k
--warnings: some smooching, fluff, a little bit of anxiety coming from the reader, if you don't like a healthy loving relationship then you'll hate this.
i love this, wait...
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--gif credits: @ddlovatosrps
Love came easy for you, but expressing it took time. Peter knew that putting your feelings into words wasn’t straightforward, and he knew that it would take time for you to be completely comfortable with him. So for you, he waited. 
If you asked Peter, he would have no complaints. Peter knew you loved him with every bone in your body, so why do you still feel like you’re not putting in your part? 
Sure, you couldn’t verbally express your feelings for him, but you can write them down. 
While Peter was out protecting the city, you pulled out a piece of lined paper and a red. Once you sat there and started writing, it was hard to stop. You ended up writing two full pages, the words on the paper full of adoration and love for your beloved boyfriend. You didn’t even read what you wrote, you folded the paper and set it in your bedside table’s drawer, hidden and safe. 
Once you put the letters in the drawer, you forgot about them. Life got busy, and two pieces of paper were the last thing on your mind. “Pete? Can you get my chapstick, the peppermint one,” you yell out from the couch, the book in your hand too riveting for you to get up. 
Peter walks past you and heads towards your shared bedroom, and after rummaging through some drawers, he finds himself stumped on where it was, “I can’t find it, bug!”
Without a second thought, you yell back, “It’s in my bedside drawer!”
Pulling open the drawer, Peter finally lays his eyes on the god-forsaken peppermint chapstick he’s been searching for, along with a folded piece of paper with red ink bleeding through its fibers. This seems to catch his eye, especially the top of it, reading ‘Dear Peter,’. A part of him felt guilty as he grabbed it and opened it up, but it was addressed to him, right? 
His eyes scanned through your writing, his eyes welling up with tears the farther he read. He couldn’t deny that a big stupid smile was spread across his face, and a warm blush fluttered onto his cheeks. 
Finishing the letter, he’s speechless, and he couldn’t be more overwhelmed with love. Walking back out to you in the living room, he finds you still nose-deep in your book, still unaware of his presence. Moving to stand directly next to you, you finally see him in the corner of your eye, “Thank you so much babe, you will not believe what happened in this book–.” As you give him your full attention, your eyes dart between his face and the papers in his hand. “Peter, I was going to give you those I promise–,” your sentence was cut short by his lips meeting yours. The warmth of his cheeks radiated onto yours, inviting you to stay here a while. 
Eventually, you both have run out of breath prompting you to pull away, breathless. Peter holds your face in his hands and looks directly into your eyes, the honey brown of his irises putting you in a trance. Although there was silence, you could tell that Peter had something on his mind, giving him time to speak. Reaching up to hold the back of one of his hands, you rub your thumb against the skin there. 
“I love you so much, (Y/N). I’m sorry I read this without asking first, but fuck, I’m so glad I did,” his eyes still not breaking contact with yours. 
All you could do was smile, you were afraid that tears would fall if you spoke. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and Peter could feel it, “You’re stuck with me for as long as you’ll have me, and if this is the last time I receive a love letter from you, I’d die a happy man. As long as you’re here with me, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be, bug.”
A sudden urge of desperation for his touch overwhelmed your senses. Dropping your book, you wrap both of your arms around his neck and pull him onto the couch, nestling your face into the nape of his neck. You two stay there for a while, the sunlight slowly receding as you squeeze Peter a little tighter, grateful for a man who loves you with everything he has. Even if you can’t verbally show it. 
--author's note: HELLOOOO!! sorry guys for the inactivity recently, i was so dead sick two days before christmas, and then christmas happened, and now im back. to those who celebrate, i hope you all had a merry christmas!! nonnie, thank you so much for the ask!! THIS IS A REMINDER THAT YOU CAN STILL SEND IN REGULAR ASKS BAES!!! don't forget to like, comment, and reblog to support this blog. ok, ily bye<3333
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Note
Hi, I saw some of your IDV smut line prompt
If you still taking request from that and write for Wu Chang, can you do ❛ i want to fuck you so badly. ❜ and ❛ i don't care if someone sees us. i need you, now. ❜
More specific for Fan Wujiu/Black Guard just being needyhorny for his S/O ( ╹▽╹ )
I did my best! I like the idea of Wu, Fan, and Xie being three different ppl
Rated: Explicit | Warning: Aphrodisiac
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“I want you,” You jerk in surprise, so hyper-focused on decoding you had paid attention to your heart racing alerting you of the hunter's presence. “It hurts how badly I want you.” Wujiu, the black guard, is currently in control. He looks like a mess! You thought it was because of Naib kiting him for so long but he looks actually in pain. “You will help us.” Grabbing you and placing you over his shoulder. 
Wu Chang is the person they make, the souls within him are Xie Bi'an and Fan Wujiu. They are bound by the umbrella they carry, forever together but not able to see one another. During matches, the white guard and black guard are separate but whole, Wu's personality disappearing leaving the original two to hunt. It is very complex and you, the partner originally to only Wu, decided to just go with the flow.
In the manor, only Wu exists. He is a stoic man, very reserved. It took quite a bit of work to try to talk to let alone be in the current relationship you are in with him. Later, you met the pieces of the whole. Bi’an, the white guard, is the calm one who approached you post-match as Wu Chang was very eager to see you.
The eagerness one has when a loved one has been hurt. Your match with Ripper was scary, the map was new and London-based (Soho if you remember correctly). The fog everywhere, the dark alleys, all of it to his advantage. You barely escaped with another teammate.
Thank God that map was a one-time deal!
Wu grew worried and risked punishment crossing to the survivors’ portion of the manor to see you.
“Such love merits our meeting. You are his sun, his moon, the very earth he envies as it holds you up.” 
You… Well, you have never been described so highly.
As introductions are important, Bi'an greets you pleasantly as you are the object of Wu Chang's affection.
Later came Wujiu, well, he bared what he wanted from you very quickly.
You have been intimate with Wu Chang once, it was an emotional moment and intimacy was necessary. You love cuddling, love skin-on-skin contact, but sex never seemed on the table— Rather in other words: it scared you. The trust, the work, and then the fear if you mess up.
Lots of anxiety.
With Wu, it was nice, slow, and you felt at ease and content.
With Fan Wujiu, you discovered so much in two hours!
Being currently in the Chinatown map, he knows exactly where he is going to hide you and him until the ciphers are completed. His victory is already claimed as he chaired two of the survivors before grabbing you.
“I do not care who sees us,” The top floor with the mannequins, “I need you now.”
You nearly scream when literally pounces on you, something you are sure Bi'an will scold him about. You scare easily.
By the time the last cipher is popped (poor Weeping Clown), you are a mess and Wujiu does not seem any better.
“Please, we need– God, I physically can't!” How much more can this man give!?
“You can, you must.” And you do as you bite his shoulder to contain your voice. “Blame. That. Bug woman.” His thrust is erratic, clearly desperate, and you are getting more and more drunk off his cock.
You have no clue what that means but you can guess by the way he smells sweet and weird then her ability must have affected him.
Stay put. I'm coming.
Hunter has detection! Go, I'll take the dungeon.
“Wujiu…” Shit, you might pass out.
He squeezes you in his arms, “Stay awake.”
“Hmm,” Oh, you feel lightheaded. “Tíngzhǐ.”
And he listens, “You took me so well, little bird.” Praising you as he stops immediately, “Are you hurt?”
“Just dizzy. And hot. Fuck.”
“I can't give you the care necessary,” He wants to keep touching you, “My apologies.” You know he means that.
“Widow's peak. There.” You try to get your words out, “Later.” It is a spot where you meet Wu Chang often, a private neutral area.
“Of course.”
He gives you a moment before carrying you to the dungeon.
151 notes · View notes