#fighting for my life to stop myself from snapping when people say shit about everything from vaccines to animal behavior

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

It’s that time of year where you get to hear family members be incredibly misinformed about things you’re super autistic about and you have to keep yourself from angry infodumping because you don’t actually want to spend your time fighting over this while eating but it’s so hard and you are being so so good about it, but they really have no fucking idea how that works and you don’t even know where you would begin countering whatever they’ve been told

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　TOO MUCH

chris sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY: Where Matt and Nick say some hurtful things to Chris during a fight, bringing his insecurities to life and causing him to turn to his anchor, Y/N.

WARNING: Insecurities, fighting, crying, anxiety attack.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The noise in the living room had escalated from playful teasing in front of the camera to sharp, biting words. Chris stood behind the kitchen table, his hands clenched into fists at his sides as he glared at Matt and Nick, who were both looking at him from the other side of the table with expressions caught between frustration and exasperation.

"Do you ever think before you act, Chris?" Matt's voice was, surprisingly, raised, an edge of impatience in his tone. "We can’t get through one day without you doing something childish and making a scene, or worse, making our videos look like shit because of it!"

Chris’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond immediately, his eyes darting between his brothers, trying to make sense of how things had gotten so out of hand.

"I wasn’t trying to do anything." He muttered finally, his voice barely above a whisper laced with hurt. "I was just... being myself."

"Yeah, exactly." Nick jumped in, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. "And that’s the problem. You’re always yelling and doing the most, Chris. It’s just... exhausting, okay?"

Chris clenched his fists, jaw tight as he glared at Nick, feeling himself crumbling a bit because sure, he’s too much. Sure, he speaks too loud and had opinions about everything and wasn’t afraid to share them, even if they were about the silliest things. Sure, he feels cornered and childish and immature and annoying, and most of what they're saying is probably true, but hearing his own brothers say it out loud... it pains his heart.

"You know, that’s actually rich coming from you." He shot back, his voice carrying a frustration he couldn’t hold back, trying to disguise his pain with anger. "You’re always the first to say that people watch us because we’re different, because even though we look the same, we're still different. But all you ever do is complain that I’m not just like you or Matt!”

Nick’s expression shifted, taken aback by Chris’s words. But Nick wasn’t one to back down, his voice snapping back almost before Chris had finished speaking.

"That’s not what I’m saying at all!" He fired, eyes narrowing. "Is it so insane to want you to stop yelling and acting like a literal child in every video? We’re trying to be professional, Chris! People like us, yeah, but they won’t if you keep acting like-"

Chris dragged a hand over his face, pressing the heel of his palm into his forehead, trying to shut out Nick’s words, trying to drown out the overwhelming feeling of being misunderstood.

"... and we can’t keep dealing with it, Chris. Grow the fuck up."

The youngest felt his chest tighten even more. His greatest insecurity - one that clawed at his chest every night when he couldn’t sleep, when the silence around him became deafening - was now on full display, brutally brought to life by the people he trusted most.

The internet was relentless in labeling him as "the weird one", the "annoying triplet", just because he was loud and talked too much, just because he was unapologetically himself. He’d laugh it off, of course, joke about it even because it was easier to pretend it didn’t bother him. But deep down, those words haunted him, scraping at the edges of his self-worth, making him wonder if maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t enough.

And now, hearing Matt and Nick throw those same words at him... he felt hollow. Like all the air had been knocked from his lungs. They knew. They knew how those comments got to him, how hard he tried to ignore it, to rise above the criticism.

"Fine." He said bitterly, hating how his voice trembled slightly as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. "I’ll get out of your way, then."

He pushed his weight off of the table, preparing himself to get out of there, but as Chris stormed away, Nick's frustration boiled over, and he turned to Matt, his voice sharp and incredulous.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He hissed, his eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and disbelief.

But Chris kept walking, his shoulders tense as he made his way to the stairs, refusing to let himself look back. His brothers’ voices felt like static at this point, blending into the background as he forced himself to keep going.

Behind him, Matt muttered under his breath, an edge of impatience creeping in.

"Why is he being so dramatic?" He called, exasperation evident in his tone. "Chris, just come back, man! Let’s finish this video."

But Chris didn’t even slow down. Each word felt like salt in a wound he was struggling to ignore, a constant reminder that he wasn’t on the same level as them, that they were all looking at him like he was the problem.

Maybe he was.

As he went down the stairs, his mind was racing, every emotion simmering just below the surface.

His hands trembled slightly as he reached his bedroom door, a mix of anger, shame, and sadness twisting in his chest, his breath hitching as he struggled to keep it together. He wanted to scream, to push all the hurt away.

Finally, he opened the door and stepped inside.

Y/N - curled up on his bed with notebooks spread around her and laptop balanced on her knees - looked up instantly, a huge smile spreading across her face as she noticed him, her expression so genuinely happy to see him that it made his heart ache even more.

"Hi, honey! How was filming?" She greeted brightly, unaware of the turmoil written across his face.

But her smile faltered quickly as she took in his red-rimmed eyes, the way his face seemed almost haunted, his body tense and trembling as he stood frozen in the doorway. She blinked, worry flashing across her features.

"Chris? Hey, what happened?" The girl whispered, and her words were like a lifeline, breaking the dam he’d tried so hard to keep in place.

She was quick in put her work together, placing her notebooks and laptop gently onto the floor beside her, leaving it all opened for her to come back to it later, her arms instinctively opening up to him.

"Come here, baby."

Without another thought, Chris crossed the room and collapsed into her open arms, sinking onto the bed as if the weight of the world had become too much for him to bear alone.

His arms wrapped tightly around her waist, his face burrowing into her shoulder as if he could somehow hide from everything that had been clawing at him. His legs slid between her thighs, his body curling into hers, every part of him drawn in close, seeking refuge in the only place that felt safe.

Y/N didn’t say anything at first. She could feel the way his shoulders shook, the silent sobs racking through him as he tried to hold back, his breath catching painfully against her neck. She held him even tighter, her hands slipping up to cradle the back of his head, her fingers threading gently through his fluff hair as she pressed soft, reassuring kisses to his forehead, his temple, anywhere she could reach.

"Shh... It’s okay, sweetheart." She murmured softly, pressing her lips to his line of hair. "I'm here. You're safe. Just breathe, Chris. Just breathe, baby."

But Chris felt anything but safe in his own skin. Shame and hurt twisted inside him, tightening like a vice around his chest. He tried to fold himself even smaller, curling tighter into her, trying to somehow look smaller for a 5'8 grown man, pressing his body as close to hers as he could.

He wanted to disappear, to melt into her embrace, and let the world live freely without his presence. The words Matt and Nick had thrown at him - the very same words he read online, the labels he was used to brushing off - felt so true, so much a part of him that he couldn’t deny them.

Childish. Annoying. Immature.

He hated himself in that moment, hated how much he cared, hated how the words dug under his skin, making him feel unworthy, unloved.

"Am I... am I really that annoying?" He whispered, his voice cracking and sounding more horse than it should. "Do you... Do you think I’m too much, too?"

Y/N’s heart twisted painfully as she heard his words, the broken way he spoke them. She frowned deeply, pulling back just enough to look down at him, her hand cupping his wet cheek as she met his gaze, her thumb brushing away a stray tear that had slipped down his face.

"Oh, sweetheart..." She shook her head gently, her voice laced with disbelief and fierce love. "No. No, Chris, of course not. You’re not annoying. You’re not too much. You’re everything I could ever want. You’re perfect exactly the way you are."

He clenched his fists, gripping onto Y/N’s hoodie - or better, his own blue hoodie -, his knuckles white with the force of it as he tried to agree with her, but her words didn’t seem to reach him. His brow furrowed, his eyes filling with fresh tears as he choked out.

"They said... They said I’m always yelling, being loud, making a scene... like I’m always... embarrassing them." His voice caught on the last words, his breath hitching as he fought to keep from breaking down completely.

Y/N held him tighter, her hand moving to the bottom of his white shirt, traveling inside of it only to rub soothing circles along his naked back as she spoke in a soft, steady tone, hoping her words would anchor him.

"Chris, they love you. They’re just... they don’t understand how much their words hurt sometimes. But that doesn’t mean you’re a burden or that you’re too much. You bring so much joy and energy to everything. That’s part of who you are, and it’s one of the things I love most about you."

He shook his head slightly, his breathing coming faster as anxiety started to build again, overtaking him.

"I... I just don’t get it. One minute, they’re saying people watch us because we’re different... and then they tell me I should be more like them. I don’t... I don’t know how to be that. I tried so hard to be like them, you have to believe me, but I don’t know how to change who I am-"

Y/N felt the depth of his frustration in the desperate way that he begged, wanting - no, needing - her to believe him. She cupped his face gently, urging him to look at her.

"You don’t have to change, Chris. Not for anyone. You’re enough just as you are, baby. And you’re not a burden. Not to me, not to anyone who really sees you and loves you for who you are."

He nodded slowly, finally trying to take a deep breath, only to feel like his nose was closed and his throat was being chocked by invisible hands. He closed his eyes forcefully, biting his bottom lip in concentration as he tried to breathe in a gulp of air that never seemed to be enough. Chris could feel his heart tightening, his chest struggling in the quick movements of going up and down too many times in a second.

"Can't- I... Please-" He tried, tightening his hands around her hoodie, panicking with the anxiety attack that seemed to come so suddenly.

"Hey, hey, Chris. Sweetheart, you’re okay." Y/N whispered softly, her voice a calming presence against the storm inside him. She shifted slightly, one hand now resting on his chest with a firm press as she guided him through deep breaths, her own voice slow and steady. "Come on, just breathe with me, okay? In... and out... Nice and slow. I’m right here with you."

Following her lead, Chris pressed his eyes tighter in a way that made him see stars behind his eyelids, focusing on the rhythm of her voice, the rise and fall of her own breathing against his fists. With each exhale, he felt a bit of the tension release, his chest loosening as he tried to match her calming breaths.

Gradually, his racing heart began to slow, the adrenaline draining from his body, leaving him feeling heavy, exhausted.

Y/N smiled softly, brushing her fingers through his hair as she pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.

"There you go. That’s it... Well done, my strong boy. Now, just relax. I’ve got you."

As his breathing evened out, Chris opened his eyes slowly, his blurred gaze meeting hers with a vulnerability that tore at her heart.

"You don’t have to carry all of this alone, Chris. I’m always here for you, no matter what. You’re safe with me, okay? I love you... so much." She leaned down, pressing another kiss to his forehead as she held him close, her voice soft.

The gentle reassurance, the quiet love in her words wrapped around him like a blanket, pulling him further into her warmth. His eyelids grew heavier, the tiredness finally catching up with him as he let himself surrender to the comfort of her arms, a quiet whine escaping his throat.

"I know, honey. Sleep." Y/N whispered, a tender smile on her lips as she cradled him closer, holding him like a mother would hold her kid, her hands tracing soothing patterns along his back. "You can rest. I’ll be right here when you wake up."

As she continued to whisper soft reassurances, her fingers running gently through his hair, Chris’s breathing finally evened out, his body relaxing completely in her arms. His head rested on the curve of her neck, his arms still wrapped around her waist as he drifted off, his pain and worries slipping away in the safety of her embrace.

Y/N leaned down, pressing one last, lingering kiss to his hair before laying her cheek against his head, her arms wrapped securely around his body as she watched over him.

"I love you, sweet boy."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

A couple of hours had passed, the sunsetting casting a soft, warm light over Chris’s room, where he and Y/N lay wrapped together on the bed. Chris’s face was nestled against her shoulder, his breathing steady and calm now, his chest rising and falling in sync with hers.

Outside the room, Matt and Nick exchanged a glance. They’d been standing in the hallway for nearly five minutes, trying to muster the courage to knock. Their earlier argument with Chris had weighed heavily on both of them, guilt twisting in their stomachs as they replayed every hurtful word that had left their mouths.

Finally, Matt raised his fist and knocked softly on Chris’s door, the faint sound echoing in the silence. When there was no answer, he hesitated, glancing at Nick before slowly pushing the door open.

They both froze at the sight before them. Chris and Y/N were curled up together on the bed, Chris’s face still damp from tears as he lay against her, completely relaxed in her arms. Y/N had one arm around his shoulders, her fingers resting in his hair, while her other hand was hiding inside his shirt, holding his back, cradling him protectively. They looked peaceful.

Matt’s heart clenched at the sight, guilt intensifying as he took in Chris’s tear-streaked face. He glanced over at Nick, who was staring down at his feet, clearly feeling the same crushing remorse.

"Let's go. We can come back later." Matt muttered, pulling Nick towards himself before starting to back out of the room, thinking it might be best to give Chris a bit more time.

But just as they were about to close the door, Chris stirred, shifting slightly in Y/N’s arms. He nuzzled his head on her shoulder, his face just inches from the gentle slope of her neck where he could still catch the faint, familiar scent of her perfume mingling with the natural warmth of her skin.

He moved slightly, careful not to wake her, though his movement caused her to pull him in closer, her fingers instinctively brushing over his back. The feeling of her hand tracing small, soothing circles over his shoulder as if it was a muscle memory grounded him further, coaxing a soft sigh from him as he nuzzled deeper into her embrace, pressing a gentle, barely-there kiss to her neck.

When his sleepy eyes finally traveled around the room while gently stretching his legs between hers, he finally caught Matt and Nick's figures standing in the doorway.

His face fell the instant he realized they were there, his peaceful expression replaced by a guarded, distant look. Carefully, he eased himself up, making sure not to wake Y/N as he pulled himself away from her arms.

"Came for round two?" He looked at Matt and Nick, his sleepy voice laced with bitterness as he asked.

Nick swallowed, words catching in his throat as he struggled to find the right thing to say. What an irony. He opened his mouth but only managed to mumble, stumbling over his words as he tried to get them out.

Finally, Nick took a small step closer, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Chris, I... we came to say... We just..." His pearly teeth caged his bottom lip momentarily, taking a deep breath. "We love that you’re different."

Chris stared at him, incredulous, eyebrows raised as he scoffed softly.

"Different? That’s what you’re leading with?" His eyes narrowed, hurt simmering just beneath the surface. "So now I’m the ‘different’ one? Funny, ‘cause that didn’t seem to be a good thing a few hours ago."

Nick faltered, his face flushing as he realized his words weren’t coming out the way he intended. He tried again, tripping over his explanation.

"No, no, I... I didn’t mean it like that. I just-"

Chris took a deep, shaky breath, his gaze lowered as he avoided Nick and Matt's eyes, interrupting Nick.

"Look, I want to apologize, alright?" He started, his voice barely more than a murmur, thick with emotion. "I know it was all my fault and that I’m a lot to handle. I get it. I can be too loud, too... everything, really. And I know I’m not like you guys. I’ve tried so hard to be, but it’s just... not me." His words hung heavy in the room, his fingers twisting anxiously in his lap. "I feel like sometimes I just ruin things because I don’t know how to turn it off. You two seem to have this balance, you know when to joke and when to be serious, and I’m over here just... always pushing things too far."

He exhaled deeply, finally lifting his eyes to meet his brothers', the weight of insecurity and years of self-doubt written all over his face.

"I’m sorry if it feels like you have to put up with me. I’ve tried to be more like you, but it’s never enough. And sometimes... it just feels like who I am isn’t what anyone wants." His voice cracked at the last words, his vulnerability laid bare, and he quickly looked away, bracing himself for whatever they would say.

Nick and Matt shared a look, each seeing the guilt mirrored in the other’s eyes as Chris’s words sank in, cutting through them like a blade.

Matt felt his chest tighten, a pang of regret settling heavily in his stomach, making it hard to breathe. How could he have let Chris - his little brother, the boy who was always loving him no matter what - believe, even for a second, that he wasn’t wanted exactly as he was?

His legs moved on instinct, carrying him back into the room before he even registered it, straight to Chris, who looked so small and hurt, slumped at the edge of the bed. Kneeling down, Matt reached out, placing a steadying hand on Chris’s knee, his fingers gently pressing into his brother’s skin as if trying to ground him.

"Chris, you’re our little brother. I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re too much for us." He swallowed, his voice wavering as he continued, willing Chris to see and feel every word. "I love you, man. We love you for who you are. You don’t need to change a thing. It’s your energy, your spark that makes everything better. You have this way of bringing life into everything, and that’s something I wouldn’t change for anything." He looked into Chris’s eyes, his own gaze filled with a raw honesty. "We need you to be you, Chris. No one else."

Nick’s heart clenched as he watched, his own guilt building with every second. Gaining control over the hurt and regret flooding him, he crossed the room in long strides, dropping down beside Matt. He looked up at Chris, his throat tight with emotion, the sight of his little brother so closed-off, so wounded, cutting deep. He was supposed to protect him, not hurt him.

"Yeah... you being another person? That’s not what we want at all. We’ve never wanted you to be anyone else. You’re perfect the way you are, Chris." Nick’s voice shook, filled with a determination to make Chris understand the truth, to undo every careless word he and Matt had thrown his way earlier. "I'm so, so sorry that we said all of those things and made you think so bad about yourself."

Chris’s defenses wavered, his resolve crumbling as he glanced between his brothers. Their sincerity seeped through, but doubt still clouded his gaze. He let out a heavy sigh, loosening his grip on his hoodie just a bit.

"You promise?" His voice was barely a whisper, fragile and laced with uncertainty, his fingers twisting anxiously into the fabric of his sleeve.

Without hesitation, Nick reached forward, taking Chris’s hands in his own, intertwining their fingers and squeezing firmly.

"We promise. We love how wild you are, how you’re always the one bringing the energy. You’re louder, sure, but that’s not something bad, it's exactly what makes you, you. You’re the happiest out of the three of us, Chris, and we wouldn’t change that for anything." He gave Chris’s hand another reassuring squeeze, feeling the smallest hint of relief when he saw the younger brother begin to relax, if only slightly.

Matt nodded, adding gently.

"And hey, I don’t think we need to be professional or act in a type of way for our videos to be good. The viewers love us for who we are... the mix of chaos and calm. That’s what makes us, us. It’s why they stick around."

Chris took a shaky breath, letting their words settle over him, feeling the weight of them begin to ease some of the pain. Slowly, he nodded, his fingers curling back around Nick’s reassuring grip.

"Okay."

Matt leaned forward, placing a hand on Chris’s shoulder.

"We’ll do better, alright? We’re brothers. We’re gonna mess up, but that doesn’t mean we won’t have each other’s backs. Always."

Chris exhaled deeply, finally letting the tension melt away as he leaned into their touch, the comfort of his brothers grounding him in a way only they could. Straightening himself, he managed a small, tired smile, his heart feeling a bit lighter.

"Yeah... always."

"Well, I’m really glad you guys are okay again." Y/N’s soft voice broke the silence, bringing all three heads up in surprise.

She moved with a quiet strength as she sat up and brushed her hand tenderly through Chris’s hair, watching his face light up as he realized she’d been awake all along.

"But just so we’re clear... if either of you hurt my baby like that again, you’re going to have to answer to me." She turned her gaze to Nick and Matt, a playful but fierce glint in her eyes.

"Y/N..." Chris dragged the last letter of her name in a whining tone, feeling flustered with how she called him 'her baby' in front of his brothers - even though they were more than accustomed with it.

Nick’s eyes widened jokingly with her threat, a chuckle escaping him. He lifted his hands in mock surrender, glancing at Matt as if to say, 'Well, we better watch out'. Matt nodded, eyes a bit sheepish, scratching the back of his neck.

"Alright, alright, no more ganging up on Chris. You have our word, Y/N."

Content with their promises, Y/N turned her attention back to Chris, opening her arms and pulling him into her embrace once more. He let out a soft sigh, sinking into her warmth, his head nestled against her shoulder. Her arms wrapped around him protectively, fingers tracing soothing circles along his back as she whispered.

"I told you they didn't mean it." He closed his eyes, letting her words wash over him, the last bits of hurt melting away.

Nick and Matt watched the two of them, a fondness softening their expressions.

"You know." She murmured, pulling Chris's head away from her chest and looking at him with a mischievous grin. "You’re pretty lucky to have all of us wrapped around your finger."

Chris laughed, a real laugh this time, the sound full of relief and love.

"Yeah, I know. I just... I guess I forget sometimes."

"Well." Nick started, squeezing Chris’s shoulder with a grin. "We’re not going anywhere. So next time, just remind us if we’re being idiots, alright?"

Chris nodded, glancing gratefully at each of them, feeling more grounded and cherished than he had in a long time.

[casanovawrites]

random sentence prompts  ━ from various tv shows, part 8

it’s hard to figure out where you fit in. 

it’s not so easy for me to make friends. i’m not cool like you.

you’re making it really hard for me to be mad at you right now.

it was my fault. i made a mess of it.

something dreadful is about to happen.

high school is the best your life was ever going to get.

you’re gonna leave here thinking that you need to worry about me, but you’re wrong.

we did so much fucked up shit out there. and yeah, maybe it was to survive. maybe. but i don’t think we deserved to.

if you’re done crying, i can tell you some stories.

you sound like you’re about to snap someone in half with that tongue of yours. 

what are you saying, i’m not innocent?

i don’t want to be something you have to learn to live with.

you know me. i don’t always listen.

you are my ghost story.

i know you don’t think you’re strong enough, but that’s not true.

it’s family. there’s always an explosion. 

someone like you, you seem serious. i’m not sure i’m ready for serious.

understand that i love you, but i will not be waiting up for you.

i spent a long time feeling like i wasn’t enough, and i don’t want to do that anymore.

what about you and me against the world? you and me in the world.

you think i’m lonely?

your job is cooler than mine.

stop smiling, i’m kicking your ass.

i’m chasing ghosts. long story.

you’re itching for a fight.

your neck, it’s bleeding.

there’s “packing away” and there’s “throwing away.”

this is what i get for disobeying your orders.

do you wanna die? answer me. do you wanna die?

you can’t put all your feelings in a box.

we’re actually back on the same side.

if what matters to you most is how other people see you, then you haven’t learned a damn thing.

you think pain is weakness?

why are you worried about a lack of trauma?

we're finally hot, at least according to me.

with them, it’s always two steps forward, then get stabbed in the back.

i crack myself open for 50 minutes, walk out feeling like i was hit by a bus.

i kissed someone. or, they kissed me.

i don’t want to keep on making the same mistakes.

you’re family. it’s what we do. we look out for each other.

are you going to come back?

i don’t have anywhere else to go. you made sure of that.

you were worth the wait.

i guess now i know all your secrets. 

don’t make it weird. i love you.

i’d hate for things to get messy again.

talk about your dumb luck.

it doesn’t matter. you always come first.

why is it your job to take those risks?

i’m saying, i love you. and i want you to quit. 

it was a big deal to me. you saved my life.

the truth is worth everything.

don’t settle for being half of anything. go out there and do something that allows you to be 100% you.

people go away. i don’t want to miss anyone else.

people go away. and it’s sad and it hurts. but you know, not everyone goes away forever. sometimes they come back.

i know what it’s like to be stuck inside the worst part of your life.

no offense, but you’re never the one getting left behind. you’re the one who leaves.

now it’s time for me to figure out who i am without you.

you are like, out of control. 

you know i’m really in love with you, right?

if today can be a good day, maybe tomorrow can, too. 

i already feel like a fool. i don’t need the rest of the world to know the joke.

everyone wants to save the world, they just disagree on how.

i wonder if anyone survived.

i’m not usually the “take it easy” type.

do you ever want something good to happen? a really good thing?

there are no answers here.

your type is losers.

one nightmare isn’t necessarily a reason for concern.

that’s not why i came. i’m only here for you, in case you needed me.

i have walked through fire every single day of my life because of you.

you're so hot when you talk shit like that.

it’s all a goddamn prison anyway.

you want a natural disaster? look no further than my life.

i haven’t felt it in years, and it feels wonderful. but it also feels fucking terrifying.

if i’m repressing things i don’t know about, i’m very okay with never figuring it out.

you should be ashamed.

i love you. and as long as i know you feel the same, i can say it enough for the both of us.

i feel a lot of things when i’m with you. happy, safe, a million other things that i can’t explain right now. but i do feel all of that for you.

i’m not pushing anyone away. i’m taking steps back.

home isn’t a place, it’s a people.

all you’ve got out there is your instincts.

love me anyway.

i don’t think good things are gonna happen to me anymore.

sometimes the hardest part is going home by yourself, being alone with all that quiet.

if it’s meant to be, they’ll find their way home.

no one gets under their daughter’s skin like a mom.

i’m not ashamed. i’m glad i’m alive, just like you are.

you’re a good person. you really don’t belong in this place.

life isn’t a science experiment. you can’t control your world forever.

do you ever get tired of winning? or being the fucking worst?

you two together, you are unstoppable.

so who’s gonna die today? you? or me?

hey, you’re back. are you back…?

i know you’re afraid of people leaving you.

i’m afraid that i’m never going to feel normal again.

[imminent-danger-came]

Me: "I‘m so glad I‘m not suffering from lmk brainrot anymore, I managed to distance myself a bit. I‘m sure this way I‘ll be fine until season 5 comes out" :)

*stumbles upon one of your posts again

Me: "…I‘ll just take a peek. I‘m sure they haven’t written any posts that‘ll put me in a chokehold… I mean, she didn’t get any new material to work with. This. Is. Fine."

*three hours of scrolling later

Me: *sobbing on the floor uncontrollably about actual LEGOs.

The; 'Macaque views MK as the person he used to think Wukong was', and just how the Monkeys other than MK have started their healing arc, whereas the main character is about to fucking SNAP.

Wukong vs. MK??????

Every gosh darn instance of 'the World vs. the life of a friend' that’s been shown so far. The increasingly sympathetic villains that deconstruct the ENTIRE concept of good and evil, that MK bases most of his beliefs on???

His absolutely unconditional LOVE and FAITH in his friends????? In WUKONG???

And just- everything about him and Mei! They are each others most favorite people in the WHOLE world! If it was them or the universe it wouldn’t even BE a question, THEY ARE EACH OTHERS UNIVERSE. But then what about the Hero turning into a Warrior, what about the Warrior revealing themselves to be a Hero instead????

MK VS. MEI!!!

Watching his loved ones grow into the best version of themselves, healing, learning to understand themselves better. While he himself desperately fights against every secret he unwillingly discovers, against every step they take towards the future. Because they are following the very path DESTINY carved for them.

And sure, everyone makes their own choices, but does that even make a difference if those choices align with destiny anyway?

What exactly is stopping him from becoming the Harbinger of Chaos? How does he know that one day, when he inevitably pushes them too far, hurts them too much, (No matter what he does and how hard he tries, he always seems to make things WORSE. Even now, when he tries to help, all he does is cause destruction, and chaos) can he be sure his friends won’t be forced to turn against him? That he won’t FAIL them?

His complacency is his last ditch effort in protecting and maintaining what little mundanity he has left in his life. Don‘t ask questions, stop looking for trouble, don‘t think to hard about every earth shattering revelation you’re confronted with, and maybe, just maybe, he can avoid his fate that is looming on the horizon.

…

…I‘m sure you‘d never be able to tell that I‘ve gone the rabbit hole that is your lmk theories right? I still sound like a well adjusted human being that has totally NORMAL thoughts and feelings about a SHOW about LEGOS made for KIDS… RIGHT?!?!?

Completely forgot I wrote something along the lines of "Macaque views MK as the person he used to think Wukong was", so reading this ask completely blindsided me AND hurt my feelings (post anon was referring to).

"I mean, she didn’t get any new material to work with." is also cracking me up holy shit. LMK is so dense, who even needs new material. I just rewatch any ep and have a breakdown about it. Tbh there are still so many things I haven't posted about (and the list keeps growing, god help me)

With MK's complacency, I will say that I think he's always been complacent in some way. Like it's definitely morphed into what you've described, but overall I think MK was never someone with high aspirations. He was always someone completely fine with being a noodle delivery boy, someone completely fine with what his life was before becoming the Monkey King's successor. And he's so real for that honestly

[so-many-fandoms-here]

(English isn’t my first language so feel free to correct any mistake you notice.)

• Characters: Levi Ackerman, fem!Reader

• Genre: smut, fluff

• Warnings: explicit content, sexual content, sensual sex, kinda ooc Levi

Worship

۵ ─────⊱۵⊰───── ۵

Only in underwear and with an aching heart I view my reflection in the mirror in front of me. I can’t help but to compare myself with the other women my age. Their bodies aren’t full of scars and flaws, while mine is clearly painted from the war. I don’t even know why I keep making such a big deal about it, after all I am not some young thing trying to impress men. I’m the mother of a six month old, in her late thirties and happily married for about a decade now. I fought a war, saw people die and was on the brink of death about a dozen of times myself. But still I feel like some 20 year old that never had to face all this stuff, leaving her appearance her biggest problem.

„She’s finally asleep“, I hear Levi saying, snapping me out of my thoughts. I didn’t even hear him coming into the room. „Everything okay, dear?“ he asks while limping towards the bed and sitting down.

I turn around, arms wrapped around my belly. It feels pathetic to admit it. „Not fighting for my life everyday made me notice my looks“, I admit quietly, tears welling up in my eyes. Levi looks at me, his nose scrunched like I told him about a talking pile of dust. „What do you mean?“

„The war disfigured me.“ Tears are streaming down my face now but Levi still looks at me, like he doesn’t understand a single thing. He scoots over and pats on the mattress. „Lay down.“ Now it’s my turn to look confused. „Just do it“, he insists, and so I make my way towards the bed too and lay down, just as he told me. My hair, still wet from the shower I just took, tousles all over the pillow and it’s like I can feel the knots tying themselves back in.

Levi is on the foot of the bed now, his eyes softened as he looks at me. „Stop talking shit“, he says. „The war didn’t disfigured you. Quite the opposite. How can you not realize that this makes you even more attractive? The way you survived the impossible?“

His hands sneak to my feet, massaging them, before lifting both and kissing my ankles. „Your feet walked you so many miles, you ran right into your death just to serve humans you don’t even know personally, to make sure they’re safe.“ He kisses my ankles again. „And they’re never afraid to kick my ass if I need it.“ A soft smile crawls upon my lips.

He moves up to my clean shaved legs. „It’s impressive that your shinbones never broke“, he mumbles against my skin, placing kisses all over my lower leg. „How often and how hard you fell during battles.“

Then he moves up to my thighs. „And don‘t get me started on your thighs“, Levi speaks, kissing them too, even marking them like he did sometimes when we were younger. „So muscular from all the horse riding. And so perfect around my hips and head.“ I couldn’t suppress a giggle, which earns me a bright smile from Levi.

I shriek as he moves his hand under my body, massaging my ass. „How many hours did you sit on your pretty ass in this boring meetings that never brought us anywhere?“ A rhetoric question, but I answer anyways, playing along. „Enough.“ „And yet, it never gave up“, Levi says with a teasing smile, letting go of my bum. I wait for one of his typical jokes and look at him confused as nothing comes. „Wow, no joke about taking a shit?“ I ask jokingly, to which I earn a roll of his steel-blue eye. „I try to be romantic and sexy, brat.“ With a giggle I lean back again, letting him continue.

His next stop is the already wet area between my legs. His fingers caress over my panties and both of us feel the damp spot on it. He hooks his thumbs in the hem of the piece of clothing, searching for consent in my eyes. „May I?“ Instead of answering I raise my hips so he can take it off. Levi understands and pulls my white underwear down, the way it sticks on my vagina gives me a feeling of how incredibly wet I am already.

„Your perfect pussy“, he whispers after placing the piece of fabric next to him on the bed. „Making me feel things I didn’t even know were possible. And making you feel things with only a light touch.“ To prove his statement he placed a kiss on my clit, making me shiver. „And not only this. It was the door to this world for our babygirl.“

After a few strokes through my wet folds he makes his way further up to my tummy. „I know how much you despise your stretch marks but they show how well our daughter grew in you.“ Sweet kisses are placed all over my stomach. „You created life, dear. I didn’t thought you could get any more beautiful, but then I saw you becoming a mother.“ New tears sting in my eyes, but this time they are tears of joy.

As I feel his hands move upwards I instantly sit up to unclasp my bra, throwing it next to the bed before laying down again and with a pleased smile Levi cups my right breast while kissing my left one. He takes his time with them, moving his lips back and forth between them so he gives both equal attention before he speaks again. „Not only are your boobs beyond sexy, they also feed a living being.“

With that Levi moves further up again, now kissing my throat and neck. „I was always allowed to hide from the world in the crook of your neck.“ Another kiss. „And your throat a) always takes my cock so well and b) protects your vocal chords that create your beautiful voice.“

With this lewd, yet pure sentence he moves to my left arm, kissing it’s whole length down do my hand. „Your shoulders, always willing to stem the weight of others too, no matter how bad it hurts you as long the other one has it easier and your strong arms, always giving out the best hugs.“ Then he kisses the palm of my hand. „And your hands, making me realize that the world provides more than violence.“

His kisses come back to my face and start to cover my cheeks. „I love the tiny wrinkles next to your nose when you smile.“ My nose gets a kiss too. „And the way you scrunch your nose when you’re embarrassed.“ He travels up the bridge of my nose until he reaches my forehead. „Your smart head“, then left again to my ear. „And your open ear, always listening when someone needs it.“ Then under my eyes. „Those beautiful eyes of you and all the lovely ways they look at me.“

And then finally, Levi kisses my lips. „And your lips, curling up to the most beautiful smile in the world and giving the best kisses.“ I rarely ever see him like this. So soft and vulnerable without him having a beak down.

„Your scars and flaws make you even more beautiful“, he reassures once again before diving into another kiss, this time adding his tongue too.

His healthy hand sneaks down between my legs again and starts to please me by sinking two fingers in my dripping cunt. A moan leaves my lips while I roll my hips against his hand to feel him deeper inside of me. Chapped lips on mine muffle my moaning while I chase my high on my husbands fingers.

„I want your cock“, I whine breathless as I feel my pleasure increasing. „Cum on my fingers first. You’re so close, I can feel it.“ That’s all it needs for me to fall apart. With a dizzy feeling I watch Levi stripping, placing his clothes on the floor next to the bed while stroking his boner.

In awe I look at his body. Even though Levi can’t walk properly anymore he tries his best to stay in shape, even with his almost 40 years. Especially his arms are still fine toned due to the weight lifting he does. The scars on his body tell the story of Humanities Strongest, making him even hotter in my eyes.

I think I understand what he tried to tell me.

My mind goes blank as his cock finds my pussy, pushing his whole length into me. As I moan louder than intended he quickly places his lips on mine again, not wanting to wake up the baby. Or the neighbors.

With his lips on mine and his cock deep inside me, I am able to let go off my worries and I only concentrate on the feeling of his tongue and the feeling of my second orgasm building up while he moves in and out of me. Our mixed moans and the sound of skin against skin create a lewd symphony inside of our bedroom.

„Fuck (Y/n), I‘m cumming.“ My legs close tighter around him so he’s even closer. I want to feel him cum inside me. And that’s exactly what happens. I can feel his cock twitch and with a hiss, followed by a loud groan I feel the warmth of his sperm inside of me, which takes me over the edge too and has me trembling under his body and clenching around his cock while I embrace my heavy orgasm.

Goosebumps raise as Levi falls on the mattress besides me, his hair messy and his back scratched by my nails. „I love you so much“, I whisper in his ear, petting his head. „I love you too

[taggedmemes]

SENTENCE MEME THE WOMBATS / FIX YOURSELF, NOT THE WORLD

spare me the drone of your conversation.

spare me my lack of sophistication.

i don't wanna sit around and just get high.

i'm all dressed up.

you walk in the room and my tongue gets tied.

it's such a heavenly sight.

i just hope i don't ruin this.

i just hope i don't ruin this, getting too fucked up to remember this.

you flip me upside down.

you take me out of my head.

i'm kind of getting into it.

you pull me out of my lows.

let's see where this shit goes.

i can't recall all the things you said.

i'm feeling pretty good about the two of us.

i've got a couple secrets.

dwelling on the past just kills the vibe.

one last slide down the rabbit hole.

there's still no room in paradise.

the kids aren't wrong.

i'm looking for a spark in the heart.

you can drag the years behind you, or you can let them go.

i see a tunnel at the end of the light.

i'm always a mess come the end of the night.

i'm forever locking myself in the glass of your rearview.

if you ever leave, i'm coming with you.

you know i'll do whatever you want me to.

i'll get out of bed.

i'm your reluctant optimist.

i'm stuck to the gum that's stuck on your shoe.

am i losing you in the dark?

no more breaking stuff.

no more acting up.

you only ever catch me out.

if you ever leave me, i'm coming with you.

you can scream like a banshee and still nothing comes.

i am ready for the high.

nothing works worse than the weekend fix.

i'm ready for the high life.

a kiss without a fist fight.

a bang without the dynamite.

i always think in extremes.

i should be pulling you close to me.

maybe generation x are the chosen ones.

they've got everything they need beneath their aching thumbs.

underneath the low there's a lower part.

no hotel guaranteed.

a professional learns from all their rookie moves.

there must be some method to the madness.

just one more smile and then i'll go.

this could be a holiday or an intersection where two roads fuse.

stop. i don't need to know.

fuck my sadness.

fuck our options.

fuck the life plan.

no more worry, i've killed it with both hands.

just give me something to light the fuse.

she was dreaming of her big break.

she constructed the right attitude.

the universe has got plans.

competition can dry you up.

people don't change people, time does.

we're all trying to get better.

we've all had quite enough of this pleasant displeasure.

i'd love to help you out.

i'd love to get us off this swing, this roundabout.

today i had a big idea.

there's no room for mistakes out here.

everybody wants to be the man.

everything i love is going to die.

keep your big mouth shut.

stop wasting my time.

icarus was my best friend.

i'm going to make him proud in the end.

there's no experimenting here.

no threesomes like we talked about when we were blacking out.

what a crazy pranged out year.

we spent most of it kissing teeth.

the moment starts to pass.

i start reverting back.

sell my spine to save my neck.

i'm starting to forget.

howl into the void again.

why don't you chop my tongue out and put my insides inside a jar.

you shake me up, you shake me down.

work's easy, but life's getting hard.

you don't speak for me.

could use some peer pressure.

you're so well put together.

tell me, sugar.

is there something i need to know?

pull the trigger.

pull me back from the edge.

pull me out of my head.

she is wildfire.

i could live in here forever.

let's find a drug to fix me.

guess i'm always blinded by the emperor's new clothes.

there's always something lurking down the rabbit hole.

in the back of your mind there's a crosshair.

don't wanna cause any trouble.

don't wanna poke the bear in the zoo.

drama becomes elastic then snaps back into place.

i saw your temperament running out the gate.

don't wanna stand in your way.

i'm pretty much worried about everything.

i worry that i'm worrying so much.

i worry too much.

multiples of three keep me warm, keep me stable.

superstition's a wasp at your picnic.

i'll say it again but without feeling.

i'll get what i think if i keep on thinking.

it's not paranoia if it's really there.

i'm not sure how much milk is enough milk.

bang my head against a wall.

i let the smallest of things ruin my day.

i'm the voicemail that you coulda shoulda checked sooner.

i'm the only obstruction in the way.

i don't wanna lose myself in someone else's game.

[cwritesforfun]

Jake Hangman Seresin x Fem!Reader: Fight For You

She is fighting someone but gets injured. He loses it. 

**Y/N = Your Name**

Masterlist

Hangman’s POV

I heard some dude talking shit about Y/N’s skill earlier and I shut that down real quick. I almost threw a punch, but we were on the base and I didn’t want to be suspended for my behavior. They still look ticked off that I stood up for her and after I said something. It still bothers me that people talk like that about their colleagues. I need to keep watch on Y/N to make sure she’s okay. 

I hear my name and I look up to see Y/N angrily storming toward me. This cannot be good. I did need to speak to her though.  I ask “And to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” Y/N snaps “You stood up for me! You did not need to do that!” I reply “They were talking smack about you. I didn’t want to hear them saying bad stuff about someone I care about. I would fight them for you if I have to.” She sighs and replies “Yeah well now they seem to hate me even more. They want to make any life a living hell and this… this made it worse. I get that you were just trying to help and I appreciate it, but it did not help. Please stay away.” I’m about to respond, but she storms off. I try to follow and she yells “Lay off Hangman!” 

... Night Off... Setting: The Hard Deck ... 

I’ve been keeping my eye from a distance on Y/N and I told Phoenix to help. Phoenix understood and told me those same guys used to bully her. The only reason it stopped is that Y/N arrived.

Y/N and Phoenix walk in and then over to us. I pat a space next to me and motion for Y/N to take a seat, which she does surprisingly.  I ask “So how was the rest of your week?” She answers “I know you told Phoenix. She told me. You upset her because now she thinks it’s her fault. She thinks it’s her fault for not warning me sooner about their taunting. I noticed you watching me this week. They did too. I got a note that mentioned it.” I ask “A note?! And you didn’t tell me? I’m trying to look after you, Y/N.” She answers “Stop trying.” She then gets up and goes to play pool.

I get another beer and slowly the night passes by.

When we’re about to leave, I ask “Where is Y/N? Doesn’t she need a ride?” Phoenix shrugs and says “She went to the bathroom. I’ll go check on her.” I wait and talk with Bob who seems freaked out that I’m speaking politely. Phoenix returns and says “Y/N is gone.”

Rooster walks over to us and says “You guys need to come quick. Y/N is outside and she’s about to fight them.”

We run outside and I see Y/N fighting the group. It’s very unevenly matched, but that’s not the real problem. The real issue is that Y/N is getting pummeled and she would never ask for help. I know that she’ll help me if I help her, but I also know that I would never be able to live with myself if I didn’t help her.

I run over to them as fast as I can and I swing a punch into one of their faces. One of them exclaims “Well look who it is. The knight in shining armor. The pretty boy. Hangman.” I reply “And look at you... bullies through and through. It’s cowardly that it takes 4 of you to fight one girl.” One of them scoffs and says “I guess 2 against 4 is better than 1 against 4.” I hear “Try 3 against 4.” I see Phoenix standing there fists raised.

The men stand there and we fight them. 

I then hear “Stay there and she doesn’t get hurt.” I look over and one of them has a knife to Y/N’s throat. I notice Y/N’s panicked expression and heaving breathing. 

I raise my hands and say “Fine I’ll lay off. Let her go.” The one with the knife shakes their head and says “She got the job I was supposed to get. Why should I let her go? I end her and I get my job back.” I carefully step forward and reply “You’ll have to kill me too then.” The one with the knife shrugs and as he raises the knife about to stab her, Phoenix knocks him down from the side and I catch Y/N who falls into my arms.

We leave them on the beach, but we call Maverick. We tell him everything and he agrees to bring it to the higher-ups to get them kicked out of the program as well as hopefully suspended. He says we may have to tell statements to police to get the one with the knife arrested. He says the best we can hope for is that the rest of them are kicked out and transferred. We thank him for helping.

Y/N gets into my car and I slide into the driver’s seat. I exclaim “I’m going to bring you to your place, right?” She nods and says “I could’ve ridden with Phoenix. We live together and it would be easier.” I ask “But is it what you want to do?” She answers “No.”

We drive to her place and when we pull into the driveway, I exclaim “Y/N, before you leave and before you get mad at me for helping you, I want you to know that I will always fight for you. Anytime you need me to help, I will. You’re everything to me and I will do anything for you.” She asks “Really?” I answer “Yes. Anything for you, Miss Y/N. I would’ve fought all of them for you to be okay.”  She half smiles and asks “So this was all because you care about me? You acted this way because of your feelings?” I nod and she nods too. She then says “I didn’t really want you to stay away and lay off earlier this week. I just thought I could handle it on my own. I couldn’t. I’m glad you were there for me. So uh thanks, Hangman. We can give the whole dating thing a try. I wouldn’t be opposed.” I smirk and say “So I take it that you like me too?” She kisses me on the cheek and says “Yes and thanks for everything. I need to leave before I do something I regret.” I reply “You’ll never regret me or forget me.” She opens the door and says “I don’t think I could ever forget you, Hangman.”  

[winterviolet1]

Ateez Pirate Au: A journey of a lifetime

Chapter 1: The encounter

September 14

Y/n POV

It was a hot sunny day. I was helping my family tend to the farm since life as a poor wasn't the easiest. We were lucky to live off what we grew but then there will be times that the crops wouldn't grow on time which does affect us a lot from time to time.

"Y/n would come here for a minute?" I heard my mother calling out as I stop watering the crops. I went over to where my mother were and was confused on what she wanted. "Is something the matter?" I ask since this was something out of the ordinary. "I need you to run to town to get some bread and Milk, Also your father and I need to tell you something once you are back" My mother said as she went back doing the gardening while I left to go get what we needed. When I arrive to the market and got what I needed, I heard people scream and saw people running from something.

"Take everything they got men, we need the supplies we can get" I heard a guy yell out, I turn to see what look like pirates pillaging then town I'm in. "Shit, what am I to do!" I said as I was about to try and leave but then someone shoved me to the ground. "You filthy pirate, I should kill you for stealing from us!" I hear as I quickly look at a guy pointing a sword at me. "Whoa whoa there buddy, I ain't a pirate" I said trying now the piss this guy off even tho it doesn't look like he's buying it. "That what they all say!" I covered myself even tho it was going to be unless from the sword as the guy swung at me but I not once felt any pain. "How pathetic you are to harm someone who isn't a pirate" I heard as I open my eyes to see a guy that is a part of the pirates blocking the store owner sword with his own.

I was surprised to be saved but wasn't sure why. All I know was that once the store owner and the pirate were fighting. I got up to leave quickly while saying thank you to the pirate as I headed home quickly. When I arrived home, I pulled the bread and milk on the table while I went to look for my parents who said they wanted to talk to me. "Mother, father? Where are you?" I shout out loud enough to hopefully be heard. I then heard my father calling out from the back yard as I went to see what they were doing. "So you wanted to tell me something?" Both of my parents looked at each other before back to me. "Well Y/n your mother and I been talking, Well we want you to go get married to a noble men" I nearly choked on air when I heard that.

"Excuse me?! You want me to marry a stranger for what!" I yelled at my parents since I wasn't excepting them to do something like this behind my back. "Y/n we need money, unless your younger brother. You have the looks and figured that more then qualified to marry some from a rich family" My mother commented and I was in more of a frustrated state that I paced back and forth from it. "I will not marry someone for money, I don't get why you want me to do it when we are perfectly fine without the huge money!" I said hoping my parents would understand but something tell me they think otherwise. "You will do ask your told or you'll be disown, if you don't agree then we'll make an arrangement for the marriage" I'm father said angrily cause me to snap at them.

"I will do no such thing!" I said as I walked away angrily cause I didn't want to face them anymore right now. That night I was in my room pacing around wondering what to do. "This is absolutely ridiculous of them" I muttered to myself while continuing before I looked out my window. "Why should I be the one having to decide my fate of some fake marriage or disownment from my family" I sighed in frustration while collapsing onto my bed.

I never asked for this. Why couldn't things say the way they are then rely on someone else for the money.

I rather be a pirate then

Hongjoong POV

When my men finished loading up the ship from the town we pillage. I smirk as it was a success but then I realized something. I suddenly remember the one person I saved from almost killed by a store owner. I could remember their face clear right before they fled the scene while thanking me in the process. Of course I did killed the stupid owner after a few sword fight moment but it wasn't really a challenge.

"Captain, we are ready to leave when you are" I heard as I turn to see Seonghwa my right hand man coming towards me. "Everything loaded into place Seonghwa" I said as He nodded his head just when we now stood in front of me. I thought about it but then turn to the direction the person I saved went. "Good but there one thing I'm waiting before we leave this place" I said in my captain voice tho Seonghwa and I have been friends for years now. "What could there be for us to wait captain?" Seonghwa being confused in this situation that he couldn't understand to why I wanted to wait for a little bit.

"You'll see soon enough"

[juliebgamez]

~Facing Justice~

Inspired by Suga’s D-Day tour

Summary: After a tragic accident Angel experience when she was 13 she lost all motivation as to what she was living for in life. Until she met Yoongi, Yoongi is not like everyone else in the small town they both live in. Yoongi has a bad reputation around there school but people don’t know the true reason behind it. Angel doesn’t believe students gossip about him but she never had the guts to actually talk to him until something pulls them in both of there directions to meet. Read more to find out both of Angel and Yoongi’s trauma, unfolding secrets, and a unexpected romance between the two of them?

Pairing: Original character x Yoongi

Genre: Angst, smut, hurt/comfort, romance, thriller, series

Rating: M, 18+

Warning: There will be mentions of depression/ dark shit, death, anxiety, and violence.

Music To Play: Suga’s songs/any depressing songs to go with the vibe.

A/N: This is my first fanfic post on Tumblr so this is the third time I have changed this post since I posted it lol. I hope you like the first chapter! If it gets a lot of likes then I will post another chapter soon. Also if you want to check out my Wattpad account Kpop_Lovers222 I have posted another Kpop fanfic called ~A Change She Was Looking For~. Okay, now enjoy!

Chapter 1

Life. Simple word really. However if you observe it more it creates a whole definition in your head. For some people life means it’s a game to them. They keep playing until they reach there ending while others think life is fucking sad and depressing as shit and they don’t want to continue this game of “life” any further. I’m one of those people who thinks that way. I think about not waking up so I don’t have to live another dreadful day and yet I still choose to get up and suffer anyways. It’s sad really, I don’t know how people think life is great every single day. How lucky were they really to be given such a great path for life? I think about this every morning on my way to school. As I walk closer to the school you can tell that I don’t want to be there and yet I choose to go to somehow try to blend myself into society like everyone seems to do so easily.

Once I enter the building I go straight into the library. It’s the only place no one goes in the mornings, it’s my safe place until I have to suffer the bullies again or as I call them the fuckers. Why do I have to be a easy target for them to fuck with me? Go and find a nerd or something to bully. At least they know what they live for in life other than myself. Oh right I guess I should tell you my name. My name is Angel and this is my view on life. 

You know it’s pretty ironic how my parents named me Angel. They say I’m a miracle, I say that I’m a misfortune. My parents passed away from one of the most terrible storms in South Korea when I was 13. After their passing I have changed so much. I’m 17 and I’m no longer happy about life anymore. They were the only thing that kept me going in life since both of my parents' families abandoned them when I was little. The three of us kept each other going, now they were taken away from me. All in the snaps of life’s fingers, they're gone in a second. Now I live by myself in our tiny home, trying to live a normal life for them and making everything seem okay on the outside. However, on the inside I’m dying. It feels like my heart can stop breathing anytime it wants to but it just keeps beating as normal.

Anyhow I was talking about the fuckers. These boys are really making my life more miserable than it needs to be. I don’t know why I’m putting up with them. They keep saying if I don’t listen to them they would kill me so I should tell them to do it, it would make it more simple for me to die. Somehow however every time they tell me that I would open my mouth but the words don’t come out of my mouth. I still want to keep fighting to live for my parents but it gets more difficult every single day as I’m trying to. Suddenly the bell rings taking me out of my thoughts. I quickly get up and head out of the library to my first class.

Now it's third period. Somehow I’m managing through the first half of the day.

???: “Alright everyone today, what we are going to be doing for our next project is something to bring more awareness for mental health this month.”

Angel: “How joyful.” I thought.

Mrs. Inzinga takes a couple sips from her water bottle and continues.

Mrs. Inzinga: “So what everyone is going to do is to choose a style of writing you want to do and you're going to write in that style to spread the message of why people should be more aware of mental health.” she explains.

She looks around the room.

Mrs. Inzinga: “Now I know this topic is very sensitive but I feel it’s important from a writer's perspective to spread more awareness to the world about this issue. If anyone has any problems about doing this assignment you can come and speak to me privately. However, does anyone have any questions for me about this assignment?”

I look around the room. Some kids were shaking their heads except for one, he had his hand raised up high for everyone to see. Mrs. Inzinga turns to his direction and smiles lightly.

Mrs. Inzinga: “Yes Cameron?”

Cameron: “Wasn’t this assignment supposed to be poetry based?”

Mrs. Inzinga: “It originally was but I changed it because I want everyone to have more creative freedom for this assignment.”

Cameron: “Thank God because I hate doing poetry. It’s so dumb to write about.”

Cameron, he is the supposedly “leader” of his group that bullies me all the damn time. I hate how he thinks poetry is dumb. Poetry is just one option of a writing style. Now mind you I don’t necessarily love to write poetry but at least I have an understanding of why poetry is effective to people. I don’t know why this got under my nerves so much but I decided to speak up about this.

Angel: “I don’t think it’s dumb.” I told him.

Everyone turned to me even Mrs. Inzinga. The whole class knows I keep to myself and prefer to not speak so this took them by surprise. Cameron scoffed.

Cameron: “Wow look who is speaking?”

Angel: “Wow look who has opinions?”

The whole class oo’s to my smart comment. Cameron looks off to the side and smiles a little. He turns back to me.

Cameron: “I would have you know my opinions are always right so I wouldn’t even try to start an argument right now.”

Angel: “So you think your opinion of poems being dumb is right?”

Cameron: “Correct.”

Angel: “Well it’s not.”

Cameron: “Alright, explain it to me then.”

Angel: “Poetry is a style of writing. People don't necessarily have to love it but should come to an understanding how poetry is an effective writing style for other people who love writing poetry or just love writing in general.”

Cameron: “Pfff please you don’t have the creative freedom for poetry. You always have to rhythm whenever you have to write poetry.”

Angel: “Not true, you can have a lot of freedom for poetry. There are many different styles you could do for poetry. One of the styles I personally love is freestyle poetry. You can write whatever you want to write about.”

Cameron: “Why would you want to do that?”

Angel: “To express more of your creative flow and also it’s a way to express your feelings.”

Cameron: “Nah that’s dumb.”

Angel: “What, feelings? Don’t you have any of those?”

Cameron: “I do, what’s your point?”

I sigh and was about to speak until,

???: “Her point is to just shut the fuck up and validate people’s feelings and opinions, got it?”

We all turn to him. Min Yoongi. He only speaks every once in a while in this class. Apparently he has a bad reputation I’ve been hearing around school. I don’t think he does, I think people are just making up more bullshit rumors for people to believe it. I remember the one time I saw him doing his “worst” but he was just standing up to these guys that were giving a new staff member trouble around the school. I wish I have the guts to do that but I don’t. That’s why I give him my respect and think he is not the bad guy. After the bullies ran away I remember Yoongi looking at me. He gave me a death stare but I just stared back at him, trying to pass the message with my eyes that what he did was awesome. I think he got my message because his eyes softened. He looks off to the side a little, looks back at me, and then he walks away from the direction I came from. I watched him walk away. I could see through his stride he has a lot of confidence and to not mess with him. I smiled a little and then start walking to the library. That was the first time I ever smiled since my parent’s passing.

Cameron's smirky smile quickly disappeared and the room fell into silence. It was unsettling to me, I quickly fix my hood to try to hide my face from everyone in the room.

Mrs. Inzinga: “Thank you Yoongi but please don’t swear.”

Yoongi: “Yes Mrs. Inzinga.”

Mrs. Inzinga: “Thank you, and Angel,”

I look up to Mrs. Inzinga a little bit.

Mrs. Inzinga: “You made really great points.”

She smiles and I just give her a simple nod back.

Mrs. Inzinga: “Alright moving on, let’s start on the project now.”

I look at Yoongi, I felt his stare from the back of the classroom. He winks at me and then gets out his laptop. I internally smile and get out my laptop as well.

Few periods later it’s lunch, the worst period I dread every day of the school week. I have to deal with Cameron and his friends bullying me. I always hide in different places during this period but they always find me. I quickly zoom through the commons, passing the lunchroom hoping I can hide in the girl’s locker rooms. On my way there within a blink of my eyes they are right in front of me. Cameron roughly grabs me by the shoulders and slams my back against the wall. I groan in pain from the impact.

Cameron: “Well, well, well if it isn’t the mute girl who actually spoke up for once.”

I was still groaning from the pain.

Cameron: “And you choose to speak up to me.”

He scoffs.

Cameron: “Rookie mistake mute girl.”

He pushed me more into the wall in order for me to look at him.

Cameron: “Oh now you're not going to speak up now?”

I’m tired of dealing with Cameron and his crew. All I want is for Yoongi to show up and fight them right now so I could make my escape.

Cameron: “Maybe she doesn’t want to talk because there’s people around?”

He scoffs.

Cameron: “Okay listen here mute girl. You will meet us afterschool by the front of the school if you don’t show up,”

He goes up to my ear.

Cameron: “You will regret it.” he whispers.

He backs away. I just nod my head automatically. He smiles.

Cameron: “Good.”

He lets go of my shoulders.

Cameron: “Let’s go boys.”

Cameron and his friends start walking away from me. Once they were in a good distance I bolted into the girl’s locker room. I just hid in their for the rest of lunch.

School was over and I didn’t want to meet Cameron and his friends after school. I made her I got out school quickly but sneakily. When I couldn’t see the school in the distance anymore I took a sigh of relief. I made sure my hood was securely on and I continue my depressing walk home. I was about six minutes away from my house at this point. I kept walking, minding my own busy until someone quickly grabbed arm and pulled me into the alleyway I pass by. I scream a little.

Cameron: “Don’t worry mute girl it’s just us.”

I took a second to process.

Angel: “Why the fuck are you here?! Leave me alone!” I thought to myself.

Cameron smirks.

Cameron: “I warned you mute girl. You didn’t show up like you should have. Now we must give you a punishment.”

Cameron came closer to me and started to kiss my neck. My eyes widened.

Angel: “No.” I mumbled.

Cameron stops and looks at me.

Cameron: “I’m sorry what did you say?”

I took a deep breath.

Angel: “I said no.” I told him sternly.

Cameron laughs a little.

Cameron: “Oh sweetheart, that’s not option now.”

Cameron started kissing me again but going more rougher on my neck.

Angel: “Stop!” I yelled.

His friends came over and started to put there hands around me as well. They were kissing and touching me all over. As I kept struggling they would start beating me up. They punch me all over my body, aggressively. Then Cameron punches me in my left eye. I went silent, trying to process this new experience in pain. I freeze in place like a statue, they lay me down on the ground and started to punching, kicking, and kissing me again. At this moment I thought,

Angel: “This is it. This is where I die, I wanted to die the moment I found out my parents died but I never thought it would actually be this soon. I don’t think I’m actually ready to die. I want to keep living for my parents but it’s so difficult to keep going. Mom, dad, if you can hear me, please help me get out of this situation and I’m sorry. For everything.”

I slowly close my eyes. I couldn’t do anything at this moment. I open my eyes again when I felt hands around my head. I look and it was Cameron. He was about to smash my head into the pavement. My eyes widen with fear.

Angel: “No!” I thought.

Cameron smiles at me. I can see the evilness in his eyes. He raises my head and then suddenly.

???: “Yo.”

Cameron turns and the guy punches him square in the face. Cameron falls hard to the ground, when I look up I saw him. It’s Yoongi.

[papirouge]

I hate how everything online feels so US centric you know? Like no, stop assuming when I say I’m pro life I’m for this backwards medieval attitudes Americans have towards socialism and social welfare that’s needed to help decrease abortion rates. Being pro life for me means I support socialist systems to care for the poor and those in need that includes women who are expecting babies and the babies themselves. America shutting down maternity wards and refusing maternity leave for workers and canceling legislation that would give kids in schools free lunches instead of fucking school shootings ever week is an explicit American issue. I’ll gatekeep all day on this - Americans are not and never been truly pro life. Especially since they worship their guns so much it’s in their constitution 🙄

The fact they indifferently use socialism, leftism, globalism, communism, liberalism - and now 'wokism'....like they were synonym is enough for me to know they are idiots. I hardly take any political take coming from USAmericans that seriously tbh.

I'm not that much of a political person myself, but USAmericans are the only people acting like advocating for free access to healthcare was instantly making someone a Communist... Only on Tumblr I've been called a commie for advocating for a better wealth distribution 💀 They are insane.

"first they ask for free stuff, then they'll come for my property!!" bestie, we all know you're broke and ain't owning shit. Sit down.

In their mind = getting stuff for free = stealing someone's labor. It doesn't occur in their mind that health distribution can make it happen while everyone getting paid. When I fainted in a mall, got sent to ER, got tested AND went to the pharmacy for medication, I only had to pay 10€ for ALL of this. And yet, the ER, the medics, and my pharmacists all got fairly paid.

It's a well known thing in France that tax evasion loss covers the retirement hole which is the excuse for that reform. That's why ppl are fuckin shit up. That's unfair to make the people pay the price of greedy billionaires. The money is here. Wealth dstribution is the problem.

That's why it's soooo annoying to these twat scream about Communism at the slight possibility of a better redistribution. The fact that they're aligning with millionaires when they're socially closer to the homeless person down their block is cringe.

And yeah, pro life is beyond simply fighting to protect the unborn. That's also why every pro gun pro lifers Americans has cognitive dissonance. They're brainwashed by their savage culture bred from genocide and slavery. They are spiritually cursed. Only a few ones got the Grace to snap out of it.

They really shown they ugly hypocrite asses when they *suddenly* cared about gun violence bc the shooter was trans..... Disgusting.

If me wanting universal healthcare & get pregnant women have free pregnancy care makes me a Communist I genuinely don't care lmao Hail Stalin. I'm absolutely immune to this brand of anathema. Me being a Communism won't make anything that I say any less true 💅🏾

USAmerican hate Communism bc they know it's the only regime that could virtually rekt them, because Nazism was mostly targeting Jews, so the Whites USAmerican don't care that much (they'll never openly admit it ofc, but their obsesssive hate boner against Communism -and not as much against Nazism- speaks louder than words)

[tinamaetales]

Lights, camera, bitch SMILE! (even when you wanna die)

“'Cause I'm a real tough kid, I can handle my shit. They said, "Babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it" and I did…… I'm so depressed, I act like it's my birthday every day” - Taylor Swift, I Can Do It With A Broken Heart

“You’re in a good mood today!” My friend from work told me after I greeted her with a simple “good morning” the moment I arrived at our office. Little does she know that contrary to the cheerful greeting matched with a smile, I am actually breaking apart inside. The thing is, I have become so good at faking it that it looks genuine. Now, I am pondering how I managed to do this for years while life just goes on for everyone else. Crazy how one’s smile or tone of voice can hide so much. I guess Taylor Swift’s right when she said, “You know you’re good when you can even do it with a broken heart”

Fighting the stigma of mental health, especially in a country like the Philippines, is a long shot. While there has been progress in this matter, it is pretty obvious that the battle is far from over. In this country, opening up about your mental health struggles means you will be facing more backlash (pessimism instead of support) which I find ironic since this is also the same country who loves to yell about its “Christianity” When you open up about your mental health struggles, the common response is either they will question your faith or they will be dismissive of your pain. Oh, there really is no hate like Christian love.

Depression is not a choice. If there is something I can offer to the universe in exchange for a healed version of myself, I would have done that a long time ago. The thing is, people often judge you when you tell them that you have been struggling with depression. Some would even say this generation uses their mental health as scapegoat for “this and that” but they are wrong. I never chose to be depressed. I never chose to be filled with anxiety every single day. What people don’t realize is that for people who are living with depression, it takes everything in them just to show up each day. It takes everything in me just to get out of bed and show up at work. I don’t have a choice but to work because I am the breadwinner. If I don’t work, we will starve. And while I just silently accept the judgment of people around me because I cannot do much or I cannot contribute more at work, I just have to keep on wearing the mask of normalcy and pretend that everything in my life is under control. But damn, I just want to run away and scream at the sky. I am so tired of the kind of life I am living. I hate being depressed but this is the kind of illness that does not easily go away. Depression is not like a fever that would go away after 3 to 4 days of drinking medicine. Depression, for the majority of its sufferers, is a lifelong battle and sometimes, there is no guarantee of healing from it. For more than a decade now, I have been fighting this silent battle that, to be honest, I feel like I would soon lose. I am already exhausted despite learning how to live with it. But everytime I try to end my life, something will always snap me back and stop me from doing it. So, now I realized that I might actually be a strong person because I live life with a broken heart.

There have been numerous instances in my life when I thought I cannot handle it but I ended up doing it anyway because I simply do not have a choice. One of the most recent is when I still show up to work and continue doing my tasks acting as if I did not just cry my heart out the night before because I found out that my grandfather died. Crazy how I was weeping at home the moment my relatives from the province told us the news via phone call and I was still crying while at the shower and then the moment I stepped out the house the tears stopped and my face was back to its normal look. I arrived at work looking normal. I was doing my tasks while my heart was in deep pain. Every time my workmates strike a conversation with me, I just talk to them casually. No one suspected a thing. Nobody had the slightest clue that I was breaking inside. Hell, I was so good at this pretend game that sometimes it makes me feel like I am one of the fakest people on earth. But my everyday life is a greater example of “doing it with a broken heart” Every single day I face people with a smile acting as if everything is okay with me. And I guess that’s where my problem starts. My family, friends, and colleagues are all so used to seeing me always smiling and laughing that news of my struggle with depression seems to be so surprising. My own family does not believe me. My friends, some of them, are skeptical of my depression. In the end, you will always be alone in your struggle.

For someone who recently “came home” to God, I gotta admit that I felt embarrassed opening up about my mental health struggles. Usually, people’s assumption is you do not get depressed when you have faith. But, is it really a lack of faith on my part? I have faith in God, no doubt but acknowledging my own pain and wanting to seek professional help does not immediately mean that my faith is weak. Even God acknowledges our pain (prophet Elijah) Even Jesus, during his earthly ministry, knows what heartbreak is (John 11:35 - Jesus wept). My main conflict right now is how to have a stronger hold on my faith in God while facing the storm of depression. The rest of the world may judge me, including my family and friends, but one thing’s for certain, God will always embrace me despite being broken. I know that God acknowledges my pain and understands where I am coming from. Every time I feel like losing it again, I just keep on reading this verse from the Bible that has been the source of my strength these days: Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest Matthew 11:28.

Every time I look in the mirror, I truly cannot recognize myself. Am I a tough kid who can handle anything and survive everything? Or am I a masked person whose real identity is hidden from the world so that nobody suspects a thing about what is really happening in my life? Right now, I am trying my best to survive each day. I continue to smile at people even though deep inside there is a pain that is killing me. I continue to pray to God and ask for mercy even though there are times when I feel like I am not worthy to even talk to Him. I am navigating through life with a broken heart. Let me end this blog post with the outro lyrics from the same song I mentioned above, “'Cause I'm miserable And nobody even knows”

X,

TinaMae

[thefanboyhub]

TW: Mentions of dark themes such as Sexual assault, Death, Abuse, Violence. Delusional themes related to daydreaming, more specifically maladaptive daydreaming. Curse words and foul language used; improper English and not proof read. Vent post but also an acknowledgement and brutal truth about maladaptive daydreaming.

If these themes make you uncomfortable do not read this and if you read anyways do not bitch about how graphic or crazy I am, stfu and leave me alone. If you related to this, I'm so sorry. We'll figure shit out buddy, don't die.

Some people really don't understand how bad Maladaptive Daydreaming is. Like I traumatized myself dawg, I've watched at least 20 of my own children or siblings (Dreamworld ones obviously) die in front of me. I've been shit, stabbed, tortured, abused, sexually harmed, like. Dawg. I'm not okay, my daydreams aren't happy go lucky rainbows: they're fucking brutal most of the time. I mean yeah I have good ones like finding the love of my life or doing good but there's always a twist. There's always something that breaks me just a little bit more. The worst part of it all is that I can't stop, I will never not daydream. I can't. I don't know how to exist without it. What's even worse is the fact I'm so detached from reality that I hardly feel any real emotions for people or when someone cries of something small I'm just like "seriously? Disgusting." Because my brain is convinced I've lived through worse. Even if I didn't actually fight in a war or kill someone for survival or was used as an experiment, my brain still keeps that shit locked in my code. It's part of the reason I have such a strong pain tolerance too. I can get so deep into the fantasy that I actively inflict physical pain on my body in a similar way that I'm dreaming about. That's not normal. I know it's not but I ain't gonna stop. How else do I function? I've been doing it since I was young, it's the one coping mechanism I rely on the most. Fucking hell a lot of my childhood memories that I swear up and down are real AREN'T. I will tell a story and my mom will straight up tell me that it didn't happen even though I can remember it in so much detail. I was a child and apparently I imagined getting stabbed by some random bitch but that never happened. It. Never. Happened. But I remember it. I remember the fucking pain of it. I remember the pain of losing any children I had, any siblings I swore to protect, every lover. I remember it all. But it's not fucking real. None of it is fucking real. It pisses me off but what else do I do? I never existed without this, I can't remember a time before I started daydreaming so deeply that it affected everything. It's why I get so pissed off when people lie to me because I genuinely have no idea when you aren't being truthful. My memory is bad that I constantly have to ask people what has happened even if I was actively there. There was a point in time where I asked my friends if something happened and they told me it did and I struggled to believe them. Do you know how fucked up it is to remember being raped but having no idea if it actually happened or not? Not knowing what memory was real or not is so hard when my daydreams are so specific and so very real. My mind is a maze and even I don't know how to escape it. So when I say I'm a prisoner in my own mind, I'm not talking about insecurity or anything like that: I'm talking about incapability to escape my dreams. Like I watched the love of my life die in front of me a few months ago. I HAD TO SNAP HER NECK TO PUT HER OUT OF HER FUCKING MISERY. I BURIED HER WITH MY OWN HANDS, AND MY DAUGHTER ASKED ME WHY I WAS FUCKING CRYING AND PUT A FLOWER ON MY LOVERS DEAD BODY AND TOLD ME TO KEEP LOOKING FORWARD. I cried for weeks. I was gone after that. That's the shit I deal with. I can't tell people this shit cuz they'll think I'm fucking crazy or that I'm lying or tell me to get help. Like nothing can help this, I just have to manage it. I have to try to stay present when I'm with people, I have to try to not isolate. It's so hard. The amount of shit I've been through without actually being put through it is bad. Not to mention the actual shit I've been through that started this problem. I hate it. I hate that I have this permanent disconnection to the rest of the world. I will never fit in because I'm not all here. I'm not normal. I'm not ok. I can't "fix" it. I'm fucking broken man. And I'm not sure what to do. It's weird. Anyways, yeah. Maladaptive Daydreaming sucks.

[hufflepuffwithaslytherinkink]

Tacenda - Chapter 23 Snippet

It’s been just over a week and Nora has barely look at him, his heart aches more and more each day and he can’t even approach her because she’s always with someone. Whether it’s her brother or her friends. It’s like they’ve taken to attaching themselves to her side, preventing anyone from approaching her.

Although that’s possibly a good thing considering Smith keeps trying to talk to her, the fucking creep. Theo has to stop himself from literally gutting the twat, though that wouldn’t help anyone since Smith unfortunately has the upper hand and Theo needs to figure out a way to stop him. He managed to kick the fuck out of Dean without anyone finding out, he could do it again.

He sighs on his bed glaring at the ceiling, no one else is there thank Salazar, he hasn’t been able to deal with other people since Hogsmeade. He’s snapped at everything anyone’s said and only Blaise seems to be bearable.

Just as Theo thinks it Blaise walks into the room, speak of the Devil Theo thinks to himself as Blaise sits on his own bed watching Theo curiously.

“Shall we talk about it now?” He asks.

“Talk about what?” Theo asks in an almost bored tone despite his stomach twisting.

“You, Eleanor, Smith. The fight.”

Theo turns to stare at his best friend whose expressions are so small it looks like he doesn’t have any, except Theo’s more than accustomed to Blaise’s face by now.

“What’s there to tell?” He asks with a small sigh. There’s no point in denying it Blaise has known he’s liked Eleanor since he heard Theo in bed after the Yule Ball - before he discovered silencing charms. Turns out Blaise wasn’t bothered if it didn’t hurt him what was the problem? He had that approach to life generally. Theo thinks that’s why he likes him so much.

“You tell me.” Blaise says leaning back on his arms.

Theo lets out a loud sigh. “It was fucking perfect Blaise.”

“Hogsmeade?” Blaise asks furrowing his brow minutely.

“What? No not Hogsmeade, mine and Nora’s date. It was… perfect.” Theo’s lips pull up at the memory.

“From your expression I’m guessing you moved your relationship along. Did you clarify being official then?” He asks.

Theo rolls on his side to face Blaise. “No, kind of. We didn’t say it but we um…” Theo trails off another smile pulling at his lips.

He can see Blaise’s eyes widen. “I thought you were taking it slow with her, that you wanted to do it properly.”

“I am, I do. It was her idea, I was more than happy to wait but she said she didn’t want to. It was perfect.” Theo gushes.

Blaise smiles at his friend. “Was it as good as you imagined?”

“Better.” Theo grins happily.

“Thank Cerci because I couldn’t deal with you if it was anything less than mind-blowing.”

“It was soul blowing.”

“Whatever that means. So what happened at Hogsmeade?” He asks bringing Theo crashing back down to miserable reality.

“I want to keep Nora safe, I don’t want to risk my dad or his friends finding out about her.”

“Understandable.” Blaise nods.

“But I think I went about it the wrong way.”

“Millie?”

“Millie.” Theo nods. “Nora didn’t like me taking her to Hogsmeade. I didn’t actually tell her either, she heard about it from Millicent bragging about going on a date with me.”

Blaise winces. “Oomph. Even I know that’s bad.”

“Yeah I know.” Theo groans pressing his face into his pillow. “The thing is Nora told me she wasn’t comfortable with it and I still did it because I can’t imagine anything worse than the death eaters using her as an example.” He shudders. “But then she invited Smith and I swear I nearly crucioed him from across the room, I lost my temper beyond losing my temper.”

“I noticed.”

“Yeah well when some sleaze bag has his eyes all over your girl it makes your lose your shit.” Theo snaps. “Then he walked in on me asking Nora what she was doing, he was saying all weird fucked up things and I lost it. I said somethings I hate myself for, that I pray to all magical beings Nora knows isn’t true.”

“What did you say?” Blaise asks.

Theo presses his lips together at the painful memory before answering.

“That she’s just a mudblood who’s only good for a one-time shag and I wouldn’t even bother doing that, so I don’t care if he did shag her.” Theo’s stomach twists at the memory. It was the complete opposite of how he felt about Nora but he needed Smith to believe him and it turns out that was in vein so he was just a dick for nothing.

“Oh fuck.”

“I know.” Theo whines. “To top it off Smith said he knows about us, that he’s noticed things between me and Nora and if I try anything he’s going to let the purists know. He said he’s determined to shag her now too because he knows how attached I am to her. Fuck I want to strangle the life out of the jumped-up prick.” Theo growls.

“He really said that?” Blaise asks curiously.

Theo nods chewing his cheek in anger.

“I fucking hate him. He doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as her.”

“Have you talked to her since?” Blaise asks lying back on his bed now.

Theo shakes his head. “No, I want to but I also want to give her time. It’s also near impossible to get close to her at the minute, she’s always with someone or fucking Smith is waiting for her. I’m going to murder him.”

“I’ll willing help with the murdering.”

“Thanks.”

“But our main worry right now is you talking to Elle.” Blaise states.

“You think I don’t know that? All I’ve wanted to do is hug her, let her know how much I care about her and that I can’t stop thinking of her. I need to know she’s okay.”

Blaise watches him silently for a minute before pursing his lips.

“Is there anything she likes to do alone? You stalk her, have you noticed a pattern?”

“I don’t stalk her.” Theo grumbles. “I don’t know, not really. She used to walk places alone but now she’s always got someone with her. It’s like half the quidditch team have taken to being her bodyguards.”

Blaise lets out a low hum. “What about when the team are playing? You could try and intercept her on the way to the quidditch pitch.” He suggests.

“That wouldn’t work because-.” Theo cuts off as realisation dawns on him, she wouldn’t go to the quidditch match. She’d be avoiding crowds and they were playing Hufflepuff which meant she’d have to stare at Smith which is something she’ll be avoiding.

“Why wouldn’t it work?” Blaise asks casually.

Theo sits up staring at him with wide eyes, a hopeful look on his face.

“That’s it you’re a genius.” Theo cries out running a hand through his hair.

“I know, but why?” Blaise asks.

“Because she won’t go to the match, she’ll be avoiding everyone. She’ll go to her spot in the library.” Theo says excitedly.

“Great, so now all you have to do it wait for her like a creep.” Blaise smiles at Theo.

Theo shoots him a glare before starting to pace in a circle, his excitement getting the better of him. He’ll need a plan, he can’t just start talking at her he needs to know what he’s going to say he needs to let her know he’s serious.

[moonglowmagic]

“Oh yeah, sorry forgot you didn’t get the memo on every horrible thing I’ve done but let me gladly fill you in.” She knew her tone was nasty, that she had no right to be mad right now but she was. Mad that she had to bring up her past, that she’d likely be judged or lose him over it. “My family scammed, robbed, stole, whatever adjective you want to use. After my parents were arrested it was up to me to provide for myself and I spent weeks hiding out in an empty house until Leyla showed up. At point we had to find some way to live so I did what I know best. I focused in on people and conned them while sometimes Leyla robbed them.” Explaining it all to him, she knew that she was being erratic, but she needed him to understand who she truly was and lift any mask.  

When he winced at her Dilan felt horrible, she stood there quiet for a moment just letting the tears stream down her face. Realizing how much it hurt fighting him, it was actually causing her more pain. “Can you explain please.” She asked nicely for the first time since she’d came here.  Tucking her hair behind her ear, she wiped her face with the back of her hands. “About Hande I mean.” She asked quietly, putting her hands in her pockets. “I’m not trying to downplay what you’re capable of either.” She clarified, moving a step closer to him. “I know you’re not and I’m aware.” Giving him a nod. Sighing as she walked back over towards him, she stopped in front of him. “Do you ever meet someone who is perfect for you? Who does everything right and that you need in the moment? Who you want to actually be better for because they generally just existing makes you better?” She asked softly, playing with the rings on her hand. “That’s what I mean by it.” Looking down at her shoes which she hated and right now she missed having her heels more than she wanted to admit. “You know they say that you have seven soulmates in life, at least that’s what some old white dude says.” She explained calmly but still didn’t look at him. “A Karmic, a twin flame, past life, soul ties, in birth, dream, and eternal soulmates. I can make three of mine. Now a fourth, but I don’t know what one you are, I just know if I didn’t give a shit it wouldn’t hurt this much.” She rambled on, knowing she was getting off track. “Sorry. Ignore all of this.” Dilan apologized, trying to refocus. 

“Chai—“ Stopping herself from digging herself further into a hole. “I don’t know how to be friends with someone I have feelings for because this is the first time ever on my end.” She explained sadly, almost feeling shame over the fact she’d waited this long to feel anything romantic for anyone. “I know you did which is why I’m doing this. Trust me you’ll be better for it.” She promised. “I’m sorry.” Dilan apologized softly, looking away with shame this time. She wished she wasn’t this person, that this could be different; but it couldn’t. When he told her that they didn’t have to be friend if she didn’t want to be and didn’t put up much of a fight something inside of her broke and reaffirmed what she already knew. “Hey this isn’t cause I don’t want to.” Looking at his hand. “You comforting me just makes it harder for me and makes me want to take this all back.” Trying to explain, she chewed on the inside of her cheek. 

“Just because you don’t mind it doesn’t mean this is what you want or that it’s right or good for you.” Countering back to him, she was ready to just give up and agree with him at this point. Taking in a sharp breath, she knew she had to not give up she’d came here to end it. When he snapped back at her finally Dilan had to admit it was what she wanted, but it broke her heart even more. To the point she just raked a hand through her hair and debated ripping it all out. “I don’t fucking know Chai. I don’t. I like you, but I can’t do this and can’t allow you to either. I don’t know how to be friend with someone I have feelings for either.” She shot back at his question. “I mean be fucking honest you have feelings right do you really want to pretend like neither of us have feelings right now and be friends? Because I can promise you that’s the last thing I want.” Asking him honestly she just looked over at him with a pained expression. “Oh my god just fucking listen to me. I don’t think you’re perfect as a person! I was meaning perfect for me you idiot.” She clarified once more. “Maybe you should at least it wouldn’t be this fucking hard. Hell if I memory potion was offered I’d probably take it because at least I wouldn’t look at you and go what if or have all these ducking feelings I can do nothing about!” She yelled back at him. “But the one does complicate the other and you can’t deny that. You are really saying you can shove your feelings aside right now and pretend you never liked me and just get over it?” She asked, was almost scared of the answer. “If so please feel free to share with the class how.” 

“Why can’t you just let me do this?” She yelled, shoving him lightly. “I don’t fucking know!” She screamed. “I don’t fucking know!” She repeated to his questions. “I haven’t finished the plan yet I just need the knife and I’ll figure it out.” She tried to explain but she was falling apart at the seams once more. She knew he was right she couldn’t even fight him and win so how was she going to kill her sister. “I don’t know.” She replied sadly once more to his questions, before lowering herself to the ground, she sat on her knees. Crying into her hands once more at his words, it was the reality sitting in for her that was causing her to break. “If I take your help what happens when she realizes and hurts you too?” Dilan asked looking up at him. “It feels like I’m just adding more and more people for her to hurt.” She admitted softly. 

“Yeah, really," A soft smile broke across his lips as he gave her a light nod. Only for the smile that graced his lips to fall as she insisted that they were better off staying outside no matter how brisk the cold February air was. "Okay, then what's going on?" He began to ask, only for his brows to scrunch at her next comment. "Whoa. I'm sorry, go back. You did what now?" He blinked over at her as if to double check that he had just heard her right. "I just know that's what you referred to her as, but who you choose to view as family or not, is up to you, Di," He told her softly, not sure how exactly to handle the situation anymore given that anytime he attempted to comfort her, she seemed to shrink away at the sight of him.

"Okay then," He winced as the crying girl before him practically screamed in his ear. "Yeah, I kinda fucking do. I told you I don't make promises I can't keep. And for the record, being a fae as a hunter isn't exactly a benefit." If anything it likely made Hande more erratic and he was sure the fae, herself, viewed it as a weakness. The other hunters would never except her. The ones who raised her likely saw her a pawn they could play and she likely had far more riding on each kill and way more to prove. All which was recipe for a slippery slope or pressure, desperation and inevitable error. But, Chai also knew better than to analyze her sister like he had been taught to analyze a target out loud. "I'm not trying to downplay what she's capable of. I know she's dangerous, Dilan. But, just as you know fae, I know hunters," He started to explain himself only at her sigh of a comment, Chai found his forehead creasing. A tinge of annoyance finding its way across his face as he scrunched his brows and asked, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Well that... sucks," He admitted, not being able to hide the blatant disappointment in his voice when she told him that she did have ulterior motives. "You say that like I didn't like you," His voice was all, but a low murmur as let out sigh of his own. Racking his fingers back through his hair as he leaned back against where he was sitting. "I guess you were just always a person to me first." Rather than some object to be won or to win over. "But, if you don't want to be friends, Dilan, we don't have to be. Like I said, I'm not going to force you to be in my life, if you don't want to be. And I-" His voice broke as he pulled his hand back. "Okay," He said, holding his hands up as if drawing the white flag. He even pulled himself up to his feet that so that he now stood a few feet in front of her.

"I don't mind complicated, but I think you already know that so," He said with a small shrug of his own, not all too sure what she wanted from him though at this point, besides to torture him as he stood there watching her sob in front of him without being allowed to comfort her or be there for her in any regard. "I don't know what the hell you want from me, Dilan? You don't want to be friends, fine. We won't be friends. You want to pretend you don't know me? Go right ahead. I can't stop you. But, I don't play games and I don't pretend. I thought you knew that about me by now, but apparently you think I'm fucking perfect, so maybe not. I just... I'm not going to forget every interaction we've ever had up until now nor is it fair for you to ask me to, because you were my friend whether or not I was yours and, yes, I did like you too, but one doesn't revoke the other."

"You fucking sacrificing yourself? It may be your life, Dilan, but I'm not going to let you die because of some fucking self martyr mentality. Hate me if you want for it, I don't give a shit. But, you want to talk reality? You think Hande will murder me onsite, but somehow you're planning on taking her down all on your own? How the hell are you going to do that exactly? You can't even hurt me and I, as you love to point out, am human. You go in by yourself, you will die and maybe, you get lucky, maybe you manage to defy all the odds and take Hande down with you, but what if you don't? What then? Your dead, Hande's alive and your sister and the people you care about are left with no one. That's your so called plan? You want to kill Hande, fine. So be. But, be fucking smart about it. You don't- for the love of god, you don't have to do everything on your own. It doesn't have to be me, but let someone help you. And no, Dilan. No, I'm not going to stop fucking giving a shit about your well being. I care if you're alive or if you're dead. Deal with it. Because people fucking care about you. I mean, you talk about how you hate when people make promises they can't keep? Well, what about you, right now? Because I promise you that we won't be fine without you."

[every-dayiwakeup]

The One Where Eddie Doesn't Die

TW: unedited, THAT scene rewritten, mentions of abuse and N*il ofc is his own 🚩🚩

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Munson?" Billy Hargrove bellows over the thumping and screeching of the bats. "Are you a fucking moron?"

Eddie, with the look of a scolded child on his narrow, paled face, tries to fight out of Billy's killer grip, punching weakly at his stupidly broad chest. "Not... a... moron."

"You were gonna cut that sheet." Billy's voice is quieter now, albeit a bit hoarse from all the yelling. "You were gonna die-"

"What do you care? Dude, you don't even know me!" Eddie snaps, and Billy doesn't loosen his hold on him, but Eddie doesn't feel restrained. He's still pissed, though. Who wouldn't be?

Hargrove had done nothing but send him death stares and chew gum with his mouth open since Eddie had met him.

"Oh? I think I do. I was a coward, too. My whole life. I was never a hero. A hero saves people. I couldn't save my mom, I couldn't make her stay."

Eddie stops struggling, and Billy's grip weakens to match his shaky tone. "My dad, he was a... mean son of a bitch. Like, really mean."

Eddie nods, tight lipped. He was never good at conversation that wasn't about Ozzy or Metallica.

"He started hitting me when I was seven. When I broke his mother's clay pot. Knocked it over by accident, of course. I told him I didn't mean it." Billy subconsciously covers his left eye, and Eddie looks, truly looks at Billy Hargrove, for the first time.

And he sees everything, even the sharp yet beautiful edges, because ugliness and Billy Hargrove could not ever exist in the same sentence.

A scared little boy, so hated by a world that did nothing but watch as he suffered. A dutiful son. A brother who would kill to protect his sister. A child who hadn't felt a loving touch in so long, he'd forgotten the very existence of such. Love? Hope? Foreign to him. And how could someone who was treated so horribly ever know that there was any other way, if it had never been shown to him?

He gulps, willing himself not to cry.

These were not his tears to shed, and he wasn't a bitch, but he couldn't deny it; he felt sorry for Billy Hargrove. Still, he had a burning question, and his lips were not meant to be zipped this long.

"Your dad was a dick, and I'm sorry. But what does that have to do with me? You literally just met me, man."

"And I clearly have more of a respect for your life than you do," Billy says, a dangerous edge starting to return to his voice.

Ouch. He took it back, Hargrove was a huge dick. Was he right about his pointed assessment? Spot fucking on. Didn't mean it didn't sting. "Fuck you, man. Fuck you!"

"I'll pass. You're not my type."

Eddie growls, shoving at Hargrove, who apparently consumes a steady diet of concrete and human suffering, because he doesn't move an inch. Bastard. "Why did you bother, then?"

"That didn't sound like a thank you."

"Well, I didn't ask for you to!"

Billy rolls his eyes, and turns to Henderson, the fire in his eyes smoldering into something akin to concern. "Dusty, kid, are you alright?"

Henderson nods, wiping his eyes. "I think I just shit myself, but I'm alright."

"Kid's a trooper," Billy says fondly, ruffling Henderson's mop of curls. "I hope Robin, Nancy, and... Steve are alright."

Eddie narrows his eyes in suspicion and a tad bit of... jealousy? No, annoyance. Definitely annoyance. He has finally met his match, and not in rock n' roll hell."You call them by their first names."

"Yeah. I respect them."

"Wow. You're a fucking dick."

"So I've been told."

"Answer my question, Hargrove, or I swear to God, I'm gonna go out there and-"

"What? Sacrifice yourself for a town that doesn't give a shit about you?"

Again, right on the money. Hargrove wasn't as stupid as Mike said he was. "You don't understand. I left C...Ch...Chrissy there. I saw her and I-I ran."

"Seems like a normal, appropriate reaction."

"Too normal for me," Eddie grumbles.

Billy frowns, and lets him sink into the mattress. "That instinct kept you alive. You made it this far."

"But that-that thing killed her! You didn't know, you didn't see-"

"The same fucker that killed your girl, he made me his bitch. Gave me these." Hargrove pulls up his shirt, revealing gnarly purple scars littering his upper torso. "Ugly, I know. They're the only scars that can never go away." Billy shakes his head like a wet dog, the same thing Eddie does when he wants to ward off pesky thoughts. "I thought I was ready... to you know... kick the bucket. Bleeding out, and all I thought was how... disappointed my mother would be. If she was there, waiting. The doctors said my heart stopped twice. That I wouldn't have made it... if it weren't for Steve and his band of Rugrats."

"Are you two just gonna sit on your asses or are you gonna help me?" Dustin huffs as he closes the last possible entry.

"Your screeching is gonna aggravate them, Henderson." Billy snickers as he ducks a soda can, and Dustin flips him off. Yet there's a clear connection between them, almost parental. Albeit, an unconventional father who definitely needed someone to reel him in at times.

Not that Eddie would know much about that.

"I didn't think I was worth fighting for. I didn't think I had anything to live for. Truthfully, I'd felt dead inside since my mom left. But it does get better. Granted, it takes time-"

"You're talking in circles, buddy."

Billy rolls his eyes, muttering, "Jesus fuckin' Christ" as he ties his matted curls into a sloppy bun. "You don't have to be the hero right now. This? This is a battle. Losing your life won't avenge Chrissy." His blue pupils switch from Henderson to a yellow sweater on the floor, dilating slightly. Harrington's sweater. "Your death won't help anyone. This is a war. So..." Billy holds out Eddie's makeshift trash lid shield, staring at him intensely, "are you gonna fight?"

Eddie takes the shield with a surprisingly steady hand, gripping the metal. His jaw sets in newfound determination. " 'Till the final countdown," he replies, and Billy half laughs, half groans.

"Good. Then don't pull that sacrificial bullshit, this isn't your time."

He smirks; he's starting to figure out the land mine that is Billy Hargrove. He'd even go as far as to say he'd like h-

Like annoying him, that is.

He gives Billy a mock salute, winking, and underneath the muck, he swears he sees a hint of redness on the blonde's freckled cheeks.

Oh, he's going to stay alive for a little longer. There are so many more people left to annoy.

[masterofmunson]

look after you (1)

TFATWS Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sam asks you to join him and Bucky on a mission in Madripoor. When you get injured, Bucky feels the need to remind you more than once that he’s supposed to look after you now that Steve’s gone.

Warnings: tfatws spoilers, language, violence, blood, grief, angst, major pining

Word Count: 6k+ 

Author’s Note: Here she is!! I’m really excited to see what you guys think! This is my first Bucky fic in AGES! I decided to make this into a mini series since this fic is so long haha. Please let me know what you think. Comments, reblogs, and asks are highly encouraged and appreciated! Enjoy!

You hadn’t seen Sam or Bucky in several weeks. You were still adjusting to life post-blip. It had been a long five years for you and just seconds for them. You were no longer the bright-eyed and bushy tailed recruit. You’d grown into your position amongst the established and experienced Avengers. Now, it meant nothing. 

Tony’s gone. Steve’s dead, Natasha too. The Avengers had officially disbanded. You felt lost and confused, still blinded by your grief over losing them. You had nowhere to go, so you just floated from place to place as needed. 

You were laying low and a shell of the person you once were. You had no one to look towards anymore. Bucky went his separate ways and got some sort of footing in New York City with the pardon he was given by the government since his return to the states. You checked in every now and then with him, but you didn’t want to slow down his progress so you distanced yourself from him. 

You know he feels some sort of responsibility towards you. Steve did too, and you suppose now that he’s gone, Bucky feels the need to take his place. It doesn’t matter that you’re no longer the naive 23 year old he met in Berlin all those years ago. It doesn’t matter that there was something lingering between the two of you before he turned to ash. You’re a grown woman now and war and politics has hardened your soul. 

He needs to move on from you. The version he has of you in his head is gone, dead. He wants a fresh start, and you can’t give it to him. 

Sam checks in with you once in a while. He asks you how you’re doing and you respond the same each time. “Same shit, different day,” you laughed lightly. 

He knows better than to ask you to join him on his missions with the military. You’re not in the right headspace to return to the field, least of all if it meant that you were representing the US government wherever the fight was. 

Now that John Walker has the shield and has been branded the new Captain America, it gives you all the more reason to stay away. If he had so much as just breathed in your direction, you’d kill him and rip the shield from his grasp and return it to Sam. 

You ignored all emails and phone calls that had to do with John Walker. He wanted your blessing on live television, as if that meant anything. Yes, you were close with Steve, but you’re not an original Avenger. You just caught his eye during training one day and he took you under his wing. John Walker just wanted to create a bridge between the two of you since Sam and Bucky were obviously out of the question. 

You were the first person Sam called when he told you he was giving up the shield. You didn’t ask why. You knew he had his reasons and you respected him to accept that whatever the reasons were, they were good enough. 

So, when Sam called in the middle of the night, you picked up the phone without a second thought. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you sit up and fumble for the light on the nightstand beside you. 

“Sam? You do realize it’s three in the morning, right?” you asked, yawning into your phone. 

Sam curses in your ear and apologizes quietly. “Sorry. You would think with all this traveling, I’d remember time zones are a thing,” he laughed softly. 

“What is it, Sam?” 

“We’re in a bit of a tight spot. We could use your help.”

Your brows pinch together. “Who’s we, Sam?”

“Me and Barnes.”

Your heart jumps inside your throat. How the hell did Sam manage to rope Bucky into whatever he’s doing? The last you heard, Bucky wasn’t allowed to go on government missions until his therapist thought he made enough progress to do so. You know he’s nowhere near the progress he wants to be, so how is he with Sam? 

“Jesus, Sam. You know he’s not in the right headspace to go on missions!” There’s a heavy pause between the two of you before you relent. “Where am I meeting you?”

“Latvia. I’ll fill you in when you get here.”

You hang up quickly and hurry out of bed. After so many years of getting up at odd hours for emergency missions and the like, you’re not surprised that Sam asked you to meet him in the middle of the night. You grab your duffle bag and stuff all your belongings back inside. You travel lightly, and now it definitely seemed to work out in your favor. 

You’ve spent the last couple of weeks in a small town just outside of Helena, Montana. It’s nice and quiet and you’ve really taken the time to reflect on your life since things started going back to normal post-blip. The locals are nice and hospitable, and no one asks you about Steve, Tony, or what you thought of John Walker. You hope it had something to do with the fact that they didn’t know who you were. You certainly hoped that was the case. You’ve kept your head down and tried your best to blend in. 

You go hiking quite frequently and take drives through the mountains. It’s nice and relaxing, a far cry from what you’re used to. You’ll definitely miss it, and you have second thoughts about meeting up with Sam, but you push them away. Steve abandoned you both, and you wouldn’t do that to him. 

It takes you several hours to get to the closest international airport and by the time you arrive, the sun begins to rise in the distance. You hurry through the airport security and send Sam a quick update that you’re about to board your flight before you settle in your seat and fall back asleep.

....

You sleep through the entire flight. You blame it on your ability to sleep anywhere due to the number of missions you have under your belt. You’re wide awake when the plane lands and you’re quick to pull out your phone and send a message to Sam that you’ve made it safe and sound to Latvia. 

Your legs are stiff and sore when you stand up for the first time when it’s time to leave. You pull your duffle bag from the overhead compartment and slowly make your way to the front. It takes you nearly an hour to get through customs and now you’re just anxiously waiting to see Sam. 

When you see him waiting for you at the baggage claim area, you grin as your eyes meet. You hurry over to him and drop your duffle bag to the floor as he pulls you in for a hug. It’s warm and tight and it’s exactly what you need. Sam pulls away first and reaches for your bag, throwing an arm over your shoulder as you walk out of the airport to his car. 

You stop walking when you notice two figures near a very fancy yellow car as you and Sam near them. Sam keeps walking and you take slow, tentative steps. You know one of the figures has to be Bucky, but Sam never mentioned a third person. 

“Sam, I thought you said that it was just you and Bucky,” you said cautiously. 

Sam stops in his tracks and lets out a nervous chuckle and scratches the back of his head. It makes your heart race and you swallow the lump in your throat as they begin to come into focus as they near the two of you. “Y/n, before you get angry, I just need you to know that this wasn’t my idea. Believe me when I tell you that he is the last person we would ask for help,” Sam replied as his eyes went from you to the two people approaching.

“Who is he?” you asked through gritted teeth. 

“Ah! Y/n, good to know that your flight went rather smoothly. It is good to see you again.”

No. There’s no way. You must be dreaming. Hemlut Zemo is not standing right in front of you. He is in prison. He is behind bars for the crimes he committed. The two men that you're closest to wouldn’t jailbreak someone as atrocious as Zemo. There has to be an explanation. It doesn’t make sense. 

“What the fuck is Zemo doing out of prison?!” you hissed, looking between Bucky and Sam, demanding an explanation. 

“Y/n, honey, I can explain, just please get in the car,” Bucky pleaded, reaching out to touch your hand. 

You glare at him and take a step back. “Are you out of your mind, Bucky? You break him out of jail because you need him, is that it? Do you remember what he did to you, because I certainly do!”

Bucky frowns and lets out a deep and heavy sigh. He looks over at Sam. “Did you fill her in at all?”

“No!” you shouted. “I can speak for myself, James! Someone better start talking and tell me what the hell is going on!”

“We don’t really have time for this right now,” Zemo interrupts, “we really must be going. I’m sure Sam and James can fill you in in the car.”

You glare at the Sokovian terrorist and snap at him. “Shut your mouth, Zemo.”

He raises his hands up in surrender and takes a step back. Bucky towers over you and this time you let him take your hand. He squeezes it gently and pulls you into his chest, hugging you tightly. You’re tense and fuming as he holds you. 

His mouth finds the shell of your ear and despite the wave of anger flowing through your body, it sends a shiver down your spine. Bucky whispers, “I hate to say it, but Zemo’s right. We have to go. I’ll explain on the way, I promise.”

You huff childishly and turn your head away from him as he kisses your temple. “Fine. If he steps out of line, I’ll kill him.”

Bucky laughs and takes your hand and walks you to the car. “Get in line, honey. Sam and I have first dibs.”

You resist the urge to smile and Bucky opens the door for you as Sam tosses your bag in the trunk and climbs into the front seat. Bucky slides in beside you and he tells you everything.

He tells you about their first encounter with the Flag Smashers. He tells you about how the leader and a few of her followers have taken a newer version of the serum that runs through his veins. He tells you that she plans on giving the serum to more people to build an army and that you have to stop her. 

It makes your heart stop. You hadn’t really been keeping tabs on the Flag Smashers. Now, looking back, you probably should have. There’s still a lot of unknown variables to account for and it looks like the boys are taking it one step at a time, and apparently it starts with a trip to Madripoor. Zemo chimes in every now and then as he drives and it makes your blood boil that you’re forced to listen to what he has to say. You hate that he has the upper hand and is keeping valuable information hostage. You want to strangle him. 

After a while, Zemo pulls into a private airport. Bucky helps you out of the car and grabs your bag from the trunk as the four of you walk towards the jet just off the runway. You had no idea just how rich Zemo was. Now that he’s out of prison, for now at least, his arrogance returned back in full force in addition to his pompous attitude. 

You board the plane in silence, ignoring every word coming out of the Baron’s mouth. You settle in the back of the plane and ignore Bucky’s stares as you look out the window. You’re too angry to engage in conversation. You don’t care that Zemo insults Steve’s legacy. He’s gone, dead, what do you care? Yes, you wanted Steve to be happy, but he abandoned you. He abandoned Sam and Bucky. 

Zemo rambles on and on. “People like Steve become symbols, icons. Then we start to forget about their flaws. From there, cities fly, innocent people die. Movements are formed, wars are fought,” he turns to address Bucky directly. “You remember that, right? As a young soldier sent to Germany to stop a mad icon. Do we want to live in a world full of people like the Red Skull?”

Silence fills the space and for a moment, you feel a reprieve. That was until Zemo mentioned the Winter Soldier. 

 “We can’t go into Madripoor as ourselves. James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone.”

You immediately stand up and protest, storming to the front of the plane. “No. Absolutely not. I won’t let you use Bucky, not again. There has to be another way.”

Zemo clicks his tongue at you and shakes his head. A smug graces his features and you lung at him, wrapping your hands around his throat. “I’ll fucking kill you!”

Bucky leaps to his feet and tears you off of Zemo, dragging you to the back of the plane behind the curtains to give the two of you an illusion of privacy. Your shoulders shake with rage and Bucky’s hands caress your face. 

“You can’t be him. He’s not you anymore. You don’t have to do this, Bucky. Please,” you begged, clinging to his hands. “I can’t let Zemo control you again.”

Bucky’s touched with how protective you are over him. He pulls you closer and hugs you tightly against him. Your fingers grip the back of his shirt and he presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head. 

“Honey,” he whispered. “I have to. I have to do this so we can stop the Flag Smashers from getting the serum. It’s for the mission.”

You huffed against his chest. Now you’re really regretting your decision to help Sam. You would’ve said no if you had known that it meant watching Bucky turn into the Winter Soldier again, even if it wasn’t real. 

You don’t know what to say. He won’t change his mind. Bucky’s just as stubborn as you are and he’ll do anything for the success of the mission, just like Steve did. 

You pull away and return back to your seat, crossing your arms over your chest as you stare into the back of Zemo’s plush leather seat. Bucky trails behind you and squeezes your shoulder. You shrug off his touch as he takes the empty seat next to yours. 

“And, I’m afraid that where we’re going doesn’t take too kindly to women who are…. how do I put this…. strong willed,” Zemo said. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Bucky barked, jumping to your defense just moments after you did the same for him.

“Selby will see Y/n as competition. We can’t have that happen. She’ll have to stay behind.”

“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m just going to just sit here and do nothing,” you snapped. “I’m coming with. I don’t care if I have to pretend to be meek.”

Zemo turns to look at you. He’s challenging you. You both know it. He’s pushing your buttons and it’s working. He smirks and leans against the armchair. His eyebrows raise and he asks, “Even if it means pretending to be a prostitute?”

Your gaze doesn’t falter and you ignore both Sam’s and Bucky’s protests. It falls on deaf ears. You don’t care, as long as you’re with Sam and Bucky and they’re safe. “Yes,” you answered without a second thought. You’ve done worse things than pretend to be a sex worker. It would be a piece of cake. 

Zemo grins, letting out a soft laugh. “It looks like you’ll be joining us after all then, Y/n.”

You scoff at him and look out the window. Bucky drags you from your seat once more and pulls you behind the curtain. You look away from him and he reaches to squeeze your hand. 

“You don’t have to do this. You have nothing to prove,” he whispered, brushing the top of your palm with his warm and calloused fingers. 

“You don’t either,” you mumbled back. 

He smiles softly at your retort and pulls you into his arms. He holds you gently and cards his fingers through your hair. You hum quietly as he holds you. 

“Touché, honey.”

There’s a beat of silence between the two of you before you lean back to meet his gaze. His blue eyes pierce through yours and it makes your heart race. You pull away and rub your palms against your thighs. 

You disappear behind the curtain once more, leaving Bucky behind. 

…

When you arrive in Madripoor, you’re dressed in an outfit that leaves little to the imagination. The dress has a plunging neckline that settles just below your naval. Your chest is barely covered and your boobs threaten to slip over the fabric. You’re dressed for the part, that’s for sure. 

Zemo is the first one to look at you when you return from behind the curtain. He whistles at you and it makes your skin crawl. 

Bucky shoves Zemo harshly and grips his chest tightly, snarling in his face. “Watch your mouth,” Bucky hissed, shoving him into one of the chairs. 

He turns to look at you and you reach to squeeze his hand. You pull him away from Zemo and whisper softly, “It’s alright, Buck. Take a deep breath.”

He grits his teeth and shakes his head, and does what you ask. “I’ll kill him. If he does that again, I’ll kill him.”

You laugh softly and press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “I don’t doubt you will, Buck.”

The two of you trail behind Sam and Zemo as you leave the plane. A sleek black car is waiting just off the runway and you follow behind to the vehicle. When you settle into your spot in between Buck and Sam in the back, Zemo turns to look at the three of you. 

“It’s imperative that we don’t break character, no matter what. If you do, we’re good as dead, understand?” 

You scoff and roll your eyes as he looks towards you. “Crystal,” you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest. 

He turns to face the front of the vehicle and silence fills the car. 

Suddenly, a number of motorcycles surround the car as you drive into Low Town. you make sure to keep your eyes forward and Bucky reaches for the hand on your knee. He squeezes it tightly and you do the same. 

Reality is now just setting in for you. This is the first mission that you’ve been on since Steve went back to the 40s, and since Tony died. It had been three long months since Tony saved the world and brought everyone back that was taken five years earlier. You know that three months isn’t long, but it still makes you nervous. You haven’t been training to keep things from going rusty. You had no desire to. 

Bucky leans into you, his mouth near the shell of your ear. “You okay?” 

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Yeah, just a bit nervous. I’m a little out of practice. This is my first mission since Steve left,” you mumbled back, squeezing his hand again to keep you grounded. He does the same in return. 

“It’s alright. I have your back. I’ll protect you, promise.”

A small smile finds its way onto your face and you shake your head at him. “You know better than anyone else than to promise something like that before a mission, Buck. It’s bad luck,” you teased. 

He laughs too and the car stops in what you guess is the downtown area of Low Town. You take a deep breath and Bucky does the same. You squeeze his hand one last time before his hand falls from your grasp. He opens the door and climbs out. You follow close behind and find your spot next to Sam. He gingerly wraps his arm around your waist as you walk into the Princess Bar. 

Electronic music blasts through the speakers and the bass vibrates through your chest. You press against Sam as you push through people to get to the bar. The smell of drugs and alcohol is suffocating as you walk and ignore the stares sent your way. They’re not staring at you, but Bucky, who walks just a step behind you like a looming shadow. 

“Ready to comply, Winter Soldier?” Zemo asked Bucky in Russian. 

It makes your blood boil and Sam squeezes your waist tightly, a reminder that you must not break character. You hate it. You hate that Bucky has to pretend to be the person he’s worked so hard to distance himself from. Bucky is not him. The Winter Soldier doesn’t exist anymore. That part of him is gone, dead. You only hope that Bucky reminds himself that the Winter Soldier isn’t him anymore as he pretends just feet behind you.

You stand in front of the bar counter as the bartender approaches. You keep your mouth shut as Zemo exchanges words with the man, briefly bringing Sam, the Smiling Tiger, into the conversation. Your eyes find Bucky’s and your heart jumps inside your throat. His eyes are cold and void of any emotion. He’s stoic and brooding. He’s fallen into character perfectly and it scares you to think that all the progress he’s made over the years has been destroyed in this moment. For his sake, you hope not.

You tear your eyes away from Bucky at the feeling of Sam’s hand on the curve of your ass. You watch him carefully as he takes a shot. The bartender moves on and you let out a careful breath. 

A man grasps at Zemo’s shoulder and sneers at him. He looks over at Bucky as Zemo asks to see Selby before he walks away. Another man approaches Zemo from behind and he speaks in Russian once more. “Winter Soldier, attack.” 

You hold your breath in anticipation as the unsuspecting man rests his hand on Zemo’s shoulder. You want to reach out and touch Bucky, tell him that he doesn’t have to, that the two of you still have time to make a run for it, but you don’t. You can’t. Zemo would probably try and kill you if you interfere and it’s the last thing you need. 

Bucky stalks over to him with two long strides, and rips the man’s hand from Zemo’s shoulder. He twists his wrist back and throws him to the ground. Another man swings at Bucky and he stops it with ease. He punches his back and kicks him against another crowny. As another man attempts to punch and kick at Bucky. He uses his metal arm and momentum to take each of them out.

“It doesn’t take much for him to fall back into form,” Zemo smirked, leaning over to look at you and Sam. 

“Shut your mouth,” you hissed between your teeth as you watched Bucky. 

Bucky grabs one of the men by the throat and slams him into the counter. Guns cock all around you as you look around the room. Your heart is inside your throat and there’s ringing in your ears. You reach to grab Bucky’s arm, but Sam beats you to it.

“Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us,” Zemo whispered. “Well done, soldier.”

Sam lets go of his arm and takes a step back, pulling you with him. He squeezes your hip tightly as you watch Bucky’s grip fall from the man’s throat.

“Selby will see you now,” the bartender said.

Zemo moves to follow him and you resist the urge to reach out and touch Bucky. Sam pulls you along and you walk in silence down a number of hallways. The music fades into the background and you’re squeezing Sam’s hand like your life depends on it. 

A number of men on Selby’s security detail whistle as you walk by. You bite your tongue and resist the urge to snap their necks. The four of you wait at the door at the end of the hall for several seconds before it opens. You walk inside and Zemo takes you from Sam’s side. Your jaw ticks as he guides you to the empty sofa. His hand settles on your thigh and you tense under his touch.

Zemo and Selby negotiate for information. All you need to know is who created the serum and where they are. That’s it. Zemo needs to stick to the plan. 

Zemo stands up from his spot next to you. “Tell us what you know about the super soldier serum, and I give you him…. along with the code words to control him,” Zemo stands behind Bucky, his hand resting on his shoulder. He’s silent and obedient, the perfect encapsulation of who he had been for the last 80 years. 

There wasn’t a discussion over what the offer would be when you were on the plane from Latvia. You just assumed Zemo would figure a way out of it, he was clever enough to do it before. You hadn’t thought that he would actually use the Winter Soldier to his benefit outside of protection. How naive of you. 

Bucky’s eyes are dark and he stares straight ahead as Zemo caresses his chin. He doesn’t flinch or react. He’s playing the Winter Soldier perfectly and you hate every second. You bite the inside of your cheek so hard that you start to taste blood. 

“He will do anything you want.”

Selby grins, leaning back in her spot on the couch opposite of you. She tells him what you need to know. She nears Sam and then the worst happens, his phone begins to ring. 

She tells him to answer it and your fingers squeeze into the leather couch. Your heart races and for the first time since you walked into the bar, Bucky’s eyes find yours. You know he can see your panic. 

Things are fine momentarily. Sam’s trying his best to stay in character and you know it’s not working as well as he’d like. You hold your breath and your panic settles in at the mention of Sam’s name coming from Sarah. 

“Kill them—” 

Your eyes widen in horror as a bullet pierces through the glass window in front of you and lodges into Selby’s throat, killing her instantly. The act is over. 

You leap to your feet and pull the tactical knife that you hid in your dress out from underneath you. You slice the knife across your attacker’s arm. Bucky kicks him into the wall and grabs you by the arm. 

You run as fast as you can out the bar and through the streets of Madripoor. You dodge bullets and fight off others that attack you with knives. 

You do well, all things considered with what you’re dressed in. You dig your heel into the boot of your attacker, throwing them off balance. You kick their leg out from underneath them and Sam knocks them unconscious. 

Bucky, of course, is doing just fine on his own. You run over to help. You disarm the man closer to you and use the butt of the gun to knock him out. 

You barely have time to register the man creeping up behind Bucky. His arm is outstretched with a gun in his hand. Bucky has no clue. 

“Bucky!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, running as fast as you can towards him. 

He turns to look at you as you use your whole body to shove him aside as the gun goes off. 

Time stands still. 

You fall to the ground in a daze as the bullet rips through your shoulder. Your eyes stare up into the night sky as it takes you a moment to realize that you’d just been shot. 

You try to sit up and get back on your feet. You don’t have time to worry about your wound. You need to get the hell out of Low Town. 

Bucky nearly drags you off the ground and you run. You run as fast as you can despite the bullet in your shoulder. 

“We need to get out of here!” Bucky shouted, inspecting your wound. 

A shadowy figure approaches and Bucky blocks you from view. The hood drops and you peer over Bucky’s shoulder. You don’t have time to be surprised that Sharon is the one standing in front of you. 

“Sharon? What are you doing here?” Sam asked. 

“We don’t have time for that!” Bucky snapped. “Sharon, please. You gotta help us. Y/n’s been shot.”

She nods and motions for you to follow her. She stops in front of a beautiful blue car and Bucky guides you into the car, pressing his metal hand against your shoulder to stop the bleeding. You ignore Sam and Bucky’s bickering as they yell at you for getting shot. You don’t have the energy to respond. 

Sharon races across town and pulls up to a very fancy building. Sharon jumps out and opens the door for Bucky. His arm holds your torso and your uninjured arm is thrown over his shoulder as you walk inside. You gather into the elevator as it takes you to the top floor. 

Your entire body goes numb and Bucky guides you to the kitchen counter. Sharon briefly disappears before returning with a heavy duty first aid kit. 

“Do you have tequila?” you asked her as Bucky rummaged through the bag for the correct supplies. Sharon laughs softly before grabbing a bottle of tequila from her liquor cabinet. You take a generous sip and the liquid burns your throat. 

Bucky inspects the bullet wound carefully. Thankfully it was a through and through. He doesn’t have to fish the bullet out. He works quickly and you grit your teeth as he stitches the wound close on both sides of your shoulder. 

The pain lessened to a dull throb now that he’s finished. He cleans the excess blood off your skin before gently placing your arm in a sling. 

“Why did you do that, Y/n?” Bucky chastised you, shaking his head in disappointment. “I could’ve taken care of him.”

You scoff and roll your eyes at him. “I don’t even get a thank you for saving your ass? You were vulnerable, I did the right thing.”

He sighs and you look away. Your eyes find Sharon’s. “Can I borrow some clothes?”

She nods and disappears down the hall to her bedroom. Silence fills the room and Sam takes his turn to reprimand you. You ignore him entirely and take another large swig of tequila. 

Sharon returns moments later with a pair of clean clothes. You thank her quietly and she points you in the direction of one of the guest bedrooms. You hop off the counter and ignore Bucky���s protests and calls of your name. 

You huffed in frustration as you limped towards one of Sharon’s guest bedrooms. You had enough of Sam and Bucky yelling at you for your recklessness, especially Bucky. You’re exhausted and all you want to do is sleep. 

You did what you thought was right. You did what Steve would’ve done. You had Bucky’s back. Isn’t that what mattered? Sure, you got shot in the shoulder, but it isn’t something you haven’t done before. You have the scars to prove it. 

“Stop running away from me! We’re not done talking about this!” Bucky yelled after you, hot on your heels into the bedroom. “What were you thinking?”

You’re sick of Bucky questioning you. You’re not a child and you’re not the bright eyed recruit he thinks you still are. You did what was right in the heat of the moment. You don’t regret it. You’d do it all over again if it meant that he was safe. 

“Stop treating me like a child, James! I’m not Steve’s recruit anymore! I’m a grown woman,” you shouted back at him. Your shoulders shake and you glare at him. “I know you still think I’m that naive 25 year old, but that’s not me anymore. The last five years may have been five seconds to you, but they weren’t to me. Accept the fact that I did what I thought was right.”

“It was reckless!”

“Steve would’ve done it!” you bit back. 

“This isn’t about Steve!” he argued. 

You laugh bitterly and shake your head. He doesn’t see it. He doesn’t see what you see. You know he sees you as his responsibility now that Steve’s gone. He feels an obligation to look after you because Steve did. You have a part of Steve with you. Bucky’s clinging to any last remains of Steve, and that includes you. 

“Isn’t it though? You feel like you have a responsibility to protect me, to look after me. Why? It’s because Steve did and now that he’s gone, you feel like you have to replace him!”

The silence that fills the room suffocates you. Your heart races with anger. You want Bucky to leave you alone. You didn’t ask for this. Sam needed your help, and when you provided it, you got yelled at for it. Now you just want to go home. 

You turn your back to Bucky and pull the pants that Sharon gave you up your legs before discarding the dress in the corner of the room. You don’t care if Bucky sees all the scars that litter your backside. Maybe then he would understand that you’ve always done what’s best for the mission, even if that meant getting hurt. You throw the sweatshirt over your head and turn to look at Bucky again. 

“Do you have anything else to say to me? Are you going to try and deny it?”

Bucky sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You’re one of the only people I have left that have a connection to Steve.”

Another bitter laugh escapes your mouth. He doesn’t understand. “He abandoned me, James! He abandoned us. Steve’s gone. You can’t hold on to him anymore. You don’t have to do anything Steve did. You have nothing to prove to me, I promise. I don’t need you to replace Steve. I need you, Buck. You’re the one that’s here with me, not Steve.”

Tears threaten to spill over your cheeks and you look away from him. The silence is deafening and Bucky moves to take you in his arms. He holds you against his chest and cards his fingers through your hair. You cry against his chest and cling to his henley. He gently guides you to the bed and sits down with you in his lap.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he whispered, rubbing your back. “You’re right. It just scared me. I don’t think I can handle losing you too. I’m sorry.”

You pull away to look at him with your tear stained cheeks and he carefully wipes away your tears with the pad of his thumb. You blink away the remaining tears and lean into his touch. “It’s okay, Buck. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” 

You rest your forehead against his and breathe him in. His metal hand rubs circles against your back and it sends shivers down your spine. He holds you carefully and no words are exchanged. Your eyes flicker to his lips and your heart thunders against your chest. 

There’s a soft knock at the door and you pull your body off of Bucky’s. You sit beside him as Sam pokes his head inside the room. “Is everything okay?” he asked, looking between the two of you. 

You look over at Bucky and then back to Sam. You smile and nod slowly. “Everything’s perfect, Sam.”