#hopefully it doesn’t worsen

[raeathnos]

.

[blood-ology]

Wow, what the actual hell.

Just watched my (white passing asf, dirty blonde, blue eyed) younger brother go from hating it when kids at school would call him Mexican because he’s half Guatemalan -> to enjoying the “is it because I’m *insert non-white race*?” jokes that his cousins and friends would say -> to jokingly calling his friends racist about little things and enjoying (and repeating) jokes his jewish friend would say about gas chambers and constantly cracking 9/11 jokes because his friends have been doing it -> to making edgy jokes about 9/11 and race and nazis and jewish people being inferior and watching lowkey questionable joke clips from South Park and SNL -> FUCKING DOING THE NAZI SALUTE AND LAUGHING ??? I hate it here man. If it was a one-off, okay whatever but it was very much not, and it was paired with multiple other nazi jokes after

I had a terrible feeling he was sliding down the alt right pipeline via edgy comedy, and ngl some of the south park clips seriously had me thinking I should keep an eye on that and intervene if it starts getting worse, but my god did it escalate fast. I don’t think he genuinely hates anyone yet or actually believes any of that shit and the whole thing is that he thinks it’s all a big funny joke, but it still just concerns the fuck out of me.

I literally started making half jokes that I’m worried about my status/safety in the house because he’s literally making nazi salutes (I’m visibly half black) to try to give some perspective and maybe bring him back to earth a bit but I can already tell I’m gonna need to be more direct very soon.

[doyouknowhoyouare]

have an ear ache :(

[thebibliosphere]

Had my hematology appointment today:

Hematologist was very lovely, competent and thorough.

He took one look at the dose of iron I’m on right now and almost tripled it. So we’ll see how my stomach handles that 😬 (nobody come near me with any magnets /jk)

If it’s untenable he’s not against infusions, he’s just extremely hesitant because of my history of idiopathic anaphylaxis and even people without mast cell issues have anaphylactic reactions to iron infusions, so he’s being cautious and wants to see how far we can raise my levels via oral supplements provided it doesn’t completely wreck my GI tract.

If it does we’ll revisit and do what we can to manage it.

Current working theory about why I keep depleting so quickly is because of all the damage MCAS did to my insides when it was running untreated, so I’m not absorbing or holding onto anything and my body depleted what little stores I had trying to keep me alive, and then because of my ongoing nutritional issues because of MCAS, I’ve just never been able to bounce back and recover as my body continues trying to repair itself.

As for why my deficiencies are only being found when I go into crisis: that’s just doctors not knowing how to read blood results properly and relying on the “normal” markers too much.

Apparently he didn’t even need to look at my ferritin numbers to know I was deficient. He was able to tell at a glance from my iron panel based on the numbers, even though those numbers were “within normal range.”

(So to all the medical people who follow me, maybe keep that in mind if you have patients who keep testing “normal” but are symptomatic. Maybe send them to hematology if you can.)

He’s in agreement that either way this is likely a source of my worsening migraines. He’s unsurprised neurology didn’t have a clue and dismissed it. Apparently when you go under 50 things just don’t work so good.

So to my chronic migraine friends, get your ferritin levels checked and try to get them over 50 at a minimum.

We’re aiming to try and get mine up to 100 over the next year. Wish me luck.

I’m going to go back to resting. I’m tired. But hopefully not for much longer 🤞

[luveline]

hotch's sister x spencer where hotch notices she's wearing spencer's clothes?

—You and Spencer get one another in trouble with your older brother. fem!reader, 1k

Your brother, though you’re adopted, has passed down onto you many things. Mostly his frown, but more embarrassingly his high-pitched giggle when something is startlingly funny. 

You laugh like a hyena at something Spencer’s said. He tries to grab you before you walk straight into his desk corner, but he’s too slow. You whack your hip and laugh again, this time in pain, bending over to grab at your wound in defeat. 

“Oh my god,” he says, trying not to laugh loudly, his efforts turning his own laugh into a giggle like yours as he bends down to see you, “are you okay?” He laughs so much he can barely ask. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” you squeeze between a laugh, letting him pull you into a standing position. 

“What is it?” he asks, grabbing your hip, which worsens your laughter all over again. “What?” 

“You’re super handsy, Dr. Reid.” 

A sharp clearing of the throat echoes. You tense up, begging Spencer mentally not to give you away, but his hand practically flies back into his chest like you’ve burned him. 

You turn to the office. “Hi, Aaron.” 

Aaron Hotchner stands at the balcony overlooking the bullpen where you and Spencer stand. “Honey. Just give me two minutes and I’ll come down, okay?” 

You give a big smile. “Yes, sir.” 

His eyes move to Spencer. You watch Aaron decide to leave it alone and can’t help laughing for the hundredth time today as your brother turns around to head back into his office.

“He’s ridiculous.” 

“He’s gonna fire me,” Spencer says, though he doesn’t sound serious. 

“And then you can come work with me.” 

Spencer doesn’t want to work at your new job, that much is clear from his expression, but he has enough social wits to realise you’re flirting. “That wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world,” he says.

Spencer leans back against his desk, hair curled just under his ears, his hand reaching for you though he doesn’t touch. You sit down in his seat, the backs of your thighs sticking to warm leather. You aren’t working today, hence your social visit, and Spencer had distracted you on the way to Aaron’s office (through no fault of his own, you’d just wanted to see him again) with a shy wave. Like you hadn’t spent yesterday night together walking through fountains. 

You didn’t mean to fall in. Spencer helped you up onto the round basin of the fountain and you’d held hands, walking in circles so he’d have an excuse to keep rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. Seconds turned to minutes, the conversation unhurried, and one wrong move had you slipping. You fell calf deep into cold water, but his laughter had been worth it. 

“What are you thinking about?” he asks. 

You cross one leg over the other, your jean leg riding up your shin. “I’m thinking about what Aaron’s gonna buy me for lunch.” 

“What do you want?”

“I have no idea. It’s so hot out I barely wanna eat.” 

“Well, too bad, you have to.” He picks up a file from his outgoings and fans it at you nicely. When he talks again, his voice is lowered. “I was thinking, if you’re not busy, they have a movie playing in a couple of days at the independent, I think it’s in Portuguese, and I really think you’d like it.” 

“Yeah?” you ask, lavishing in the cold kiss of his manufactured breeze and the idea of another date. 

“About a little girl that turns into a star. They have popcorn bigger than anywhere else I’ve seen, too. Enough for three people in one bucket.” 

You try not to act too shy. “Well, hopefully it’s just me and you.” 

Spencer smiles at you between waves of his fan. “Is your hip okay?” he asks. 

“Spencer.” 

“Are you ready?” Aaron asks. 

You spin in Spencer’s chair toward your brother, shocked he’s there. He’s been funny since you and Spencer met, never controlling or cruel, yet clearly having a tough time coming to grips with the connection you’ve formed with his smartest employee. 

When you told him Spencer had given you his number, his eye twitched ever so slightly, and he excused himself for a glass of water. You’re not sure what is about the situation that irks him: he loves you, he loves Spencer in his way, he’d do anything for both of you, except acknowledge your burgeoning relationship. 

You nod but don’t stand. Your hip aches weirdly and the sitting is nice. Plus, it’s a sisterly duty to wind up her brother, even if you love him more than anybody on planet earth. 

“Spencer was just telling me about your accident in Scottsdale.” 

“He was,” Hotch says. He looks at you, and his eyes follow down the line of your leg to your shoes, where they stay. 

You glance down. 

“I’m trying something new,” you say, sitting up quickly. Scottsdale doesn’t seem so funny. 

“I can see that.” 

You’re wearing Spencer’s socks, odd ones sticking up past his borrowed converse. “It’s summer,” you say, standing up. 

“Mm.” He gestures for you to stand in front of him, his hand on your shoulder kind but firm as he steers you away. “And the odd socks, that’s a conscious choice?” 

“Don’t be mean.” 

“I’m not.” 

You glance back at Spencer and grin at him as you’re shepherded away. Hopefully he’ll call you later, but for now he looks like he’d like to dig himself a shallow grave.

“We went for a walk last night and I ruined my shoes,” you explain, turning your gaze to Aaron and his reluctant smile. “They were still wet this morning.” 

“What about those loafers I got you for your birthday?” he asks. 

“Well, I didn’t have them with me.” 

Aaron nods. There’s a certain impassiveness to his expression that you’re familiar with, even if it signifies disappointment. That you’re not so used to. 

“I thought you liked Spencer?” you ask. 

“I do. But I love you, and he’s…” 

“He’s what?” 

“At risk.” 

“You’ll just have to keep him safe for me,” you say, smiling at him breezily. 

Aaron seems to agree silently. You’re almost to the elevators when he says, “Please, wear your own socks. I know you know how to do your laundry, I’m the one who taught you how to do it.” 

[moonstruckme]

Hello tumblr has decided to temporarily disappear the request I'm ready to post again, so sorry and thank you for requesting <3

Request: i love love love your writing and was wondering if you’d write a period hurt/comfort with james? i have really bad endometriosis, and i’ve never really had someone take it seriously :( fainted earlier so i’m in pain rn and i just know james would be such a sweetheart

cw: modern au, reader who menstruates, very mild/vague description of cramps, male gaslighting/suspicion of female pain (what else is new)

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 895 words

“Will that be all?” The geniality in James’ tone is starting to wane thin. He paces aimlessly around your flat, down the hall and into the bedroom and then back out again, footsteps meandering about the kitchen. “Right, yeah. No, I’m quite sure she’ll be out all day.” 

James shoots you an exasperated look as he comes into the sitting room, and you manage a smile-esque grimace from the couch in return. Your boss is a piece of work, you know. 

You hold out your hand for the phone. James shakes his head. 

“No, she can’t come to the phone right now,” he says, sitting beside your curled-up legs. “She’s resting. Did I mention she fainted a bit ago? Alright, yeah, just checking. Yeah. Yeah, okay. I’ll let her know.” 

You grimace again when he puts down the phone. Hanging up without telling the other person to have a lovely day is like James’ equivalent of the middle finger. 

“Sorry,” you say. 

“What’re you sorry for?” James gives your calf a gentle squeeze. “Your boss is rather pushy, isn’t he? Shouldn’t take so much to use a sick day.”

“I don’t think he believes me.” You let your face mush deeply into a throw pillow. There’s a light sweat broken out on your brow, but you couldn’t be more grateful for the sweltering heating pad held tight over your abdomen. “I could’ve talked to him.” 

James makes a face. “You shouldn’t have to deal with someone like that when you’re already poorly.”  

“What did he want you to let me know?” 

“Oh. Uh.” James seems as though he did not, in fact, plan to let you know, but now that you’ve asked he can’t avoid it. “He said that he expects to see you in tomorrow. We’ll see.” 

You sigh. “I might be able to manage tomorrow. Or I might be a bit better, at least.” 

“We’ll see,” he says again, stooping to mush a kiss into the side of your head. “Don’t worry about that yet, sweetheart. How are you feeling now?” 

“Better than when I woke up.” 

“Yeah?” James asks hopefully. It’s a low bar, considering that early this morning the pain had been bad enough to cause you to pass out. But if there’s one thing James can be relied upon for, it’s a positive outlook. “That’s great, lovie. Is there anything you need?”

You shake your head, breaths shallowing as your cramps worsen. Nausea pinches the back of your throat. James’ face pinches, too, as he sees. He rubs your lower back where the muscles tend to clench. 

“Is there anything you want?” he asks instead. 

It almost makes you laugh. Almost, but even that’s enough to ease the pain slightly. 

“No,” you say, breathing out as the worst passes. James continues massaging your back. “Thanks.” 

“Maybe we could try a walk later, if you’re feeling better,” he says. “Some light exercise might help.” 

“Maybe,” you murmur. Truly, the thought of leaving this couch anytime during the next week makes you want to sew yourself into the cushions. James probably knows you’re only humoring him, but he doesn’t say anything. When you hug your heating pad closer, he spreads his palm flat over your back to transfer heat there, too. 

You relax some when the cramp eases the rest of the way. “Sorry. I don’t mean to take over your whole day.” 

“Sweetheart, why are you sorry?” James places his free hand over yours on your heating pad. Between that and the one on your back, it’s almost like a hug. “I know you don’t want this to happen. And, honestly, I’d rather have my day taken over by you than anyone else. Don’t tell Sirius.” 

That coaxes a small smile out of you. James grins, leaning down again to plant a kiss on your cheek. 

“I’m sorry you’re so miserable.” 

“I’m not miserable,” you say. “I’m with you.” 

James makes a horrendously fond sound, cuddling you close. “You flatterer. I don’t know where you find the energy to be so sweet during times like this.” 

You make it easy, you want to say, but James will only think you’re playing along with him and you want to say it when he’ll hear the sincerity you mean it with. Instead, you intertwine your fingers with his and say, “I’ve thought of something I want.” 

“Yeah?” James sits up. He brushes a few strands of hair away from your face, mindless of your clamminess. You think that maybe the only thing bigger than James’ capacity for love is how it feels to be at the center of it. “Some tea, maybe? That tumeric one helped a bit last time, remember?” 

“Maybe later,” you say, voice softening. “For now, could I please have a kiss?” 

James blinks once in surprise, but then he grins. “Ah, for the endorphins,” he says, already bending down. “Good thinking, angel.” 

“Right.” You don’t know where he gets these facts. You suspect he scrolls through endometriosis reddit forums while you’re asleep. “Yeah.” 

James makes it a kiss worth asking for. He keeps his hand flat over your back as he leans over you, the other cupping your cheek to encourage your face towards him. And when your lips part, you do feel a bit better. It’s a magical cure-all, just like the fairytales say.

[bloodfiendarling]

𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓾𝓹

— ( do note this ask was sent before my rules post was out but ill let it pass bcz it doesnt break any rules )

ah hello ! !! this is the first time im writing for jingyuan sama ..! hopefully its to your liking anon .. <:D tho i did self indulge a lil much on this ... hopefully you still like it x_x

also , yes .! i love ryona . i dig it a lot .. please dont b scared to req anything with dark themes .. i will be cheering you on !

pair — reader x jing yuan

wc — ~1k

contains — sub bottom char, dom top reader, established relationship, gn reader, possessive reader, jealousy, (false) cheating suspicions, reader is kinda fucked up in the head, size difference (smaller reader), thigh humping, dry humping, reader is pretty forceful

you couldn’t stand it.

the way he would ignore you sometimes, when you two just wouldn’t be able to have some pda for the sake of his reputation. it pissed you off.

you want to love him! show him off, maybe. hug him, kiss him, hold his hand.. all in public. but you can’t — because he has a reputation to uphold here. and what made you more mad is the fact you’d hear your own colleagues talk about him. how they want to get with him.

what pissed you off the most about today, though? you heard someone spreading rumors. dating rumors. not between you and jing yuan, no. (you would’ve appreciated that, really) it was between him and some other woman — one that he’s been working with for a good while.

you clicked your tongue, entering his office. even just from your face it was obvious you were in a horrible mood.

“oh?” he started, with that usual lazy smile of his — “my dear, something on your mind?”

he shifted in his seat, adjusting himself so you could sit yourself beside him — which, you do — letting out a tired sigh. “rumours about you again, love.” you respond.

“mm, it’s the one with that woman, i assume?”

you click your tongue again. just hearing anything related to her set you off — c’mon, now.. it’s not like they’re actually together.. your dearest would never, ever betray you in such a way.

but you see the way that woman was — how she was smiling and all. laughing those rumors off, all while clearly enjoying the attention she got. it disgusts you. it worsens your mood more and more as you thought about it.

the general could sense your frustration — almost as if he read your mind. his expression softened a little bit, this time looking at you. watching you biting on your nail, whilst the other hand was balled into a fist, resting on your thigh.

“hey,” you looked back at him. the frustration was clear in your eyes. even you, yourself didn’t get it. what were you so angry about…? you can’t help but take it out on him. “you love me, right, jing yuan?”

“of course I do.” he replies — it’s short. it’s obvious. but in your messed up little head, it felt like nothing but a lie.

“prove it.”

“wha–?”

“prove it, i said.” you lean into him, a hand against his stomach. the gold part of his belt felt cool against your palm. for a second, it gives you shivers.

“here..?” the general’s voice was filled with uncertainty. “the door is still unlo–”

“that doesn’t matter.” you interrupt, “they’re not allowed to come in, right? locked or not. just tell them to leave if someone knocks. simple.”

jing yuan gulped down, eyeing the door once more before giving in — fumbling with his belt. slowly but surely getting that corset-like piece of armor loose and discarding it completely.

he’s so obedient whenever you were mad…

“c’mere.” you pat on your thigh, inviting him to sit on it — he does, obeying you. you were upset, he didn’t want your mood to go even lower. though, due to jing yuan being bigger than you, he was quite hesitant on putting his entire weight — he knows he’s quite heavy.. but you insist he sits down properly.

he felt shy all of a sudden — putting his hands on your shoulders, nuzzling his face into your neck. you didn’t know if this shyness was a result of the position, or the fact the door was very much unlocked — maybe both.

you had a hand on his lower back, as if inviting for the white-haired general — your free hand decided to run through his hair. it’s so soft… how could you not?

jing yuan lets out a whimper, hips moving on his own. slowly but surely running them up and down your thigh. his own legs shaking. you slip your hand into the side of his pants — feeling around his waist. he jolts at your cold hands, letting out a small gasp. those hands of yours continue to trace through his body, feeling his breath grow a little faster. feeling all over his back, his hips, his waist, him. just him.

you wanted to escalate this, though, you heard something. something he feared. a knock at the door.

“jing yuan, sir?”

a voice is heard, calling to the general. you could clearly hear his breath hitch. “a– ah.. who—nnh–!”

those hands of yours continued to tease him. featherlight touches all over his body, teasing him by slipping your hands into his pants every now and then — watching your darling general explain why the person couldn’t come in — stuttering on his words, trying to reason with them..

you felt mean today. you were in a shitty mood, after all.

he lets out a sigh of release when they finally decide to go — whoever that was leaving his office alone for another time. finally, he gets to calm down.

“i love you.” you whisper into his ear suddenly, “you love me too, right? you wouldn’t go for that woman, right? right?”

why did you doubt him, even?

you don’t know, nor did you care. all you wanted to hear was an ‘i love you, too’ from the general.. your general.

his weight was kind of crushing you.. but you didn’t mind it much. you pressed a kiss onto his neck, sucking into it to form a hickey. then another… and another. it didn’t take too long for his entire neck to be covered by them. you loved it.. marking him up as yours (as if wasn’t already..)

“m’gonna–” his grinding was growing a bit more desperate — damn, already?

“go on. show me how much you love me.” — those words made him whimper, closing his eyes. you pulled on his hair, yanking his head so jing yuan was looking at you — grabbing his face with one of your hands and inviting him into a messy kiss — tongue being forcefully shoved into his mouth.

“i love you, i love you, i love you.. mmMH—!” he said between eager gasps, feeling his orgasm washing over him. you could, too — that warm feeling on your thigh.

he wraps his big arms around you, moans being muffled by the kiss. he just couldn’t get enough, can he? he wouldn’t even care anymore if someone came in and saw him this way. neither did you. at least they’d know you were his.

“i love you, darling. please ruin me..”

hsr masterlist ♥︎

[trickphotography2]

D-Day by TrickPhotography | Chapter 21

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x female!reader

Word count: 6.1k

Synopsis: After finding out his girlfriend is pregnant, Jake is ready to move in and get married. The last thing he expected was to be hit with a six-month deployment at sea and missing the birth of his first child.

18+, minors DNI

Chapter 20 | Series Master List | Ao3

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

Chapter 21

The Jeep was silent, except for the road noise. Javy adjusted his grip on the wheel, the muscles in his jaw ticking as he stared straight ahead.

Your eyes darted over to him, a smile teasing the corner of your lips as you rubbed your belly. “You alright, Javy?” 

His throat bobbed, eyes flitting to meet yours before returning to the road. “I can’t watch you shit on the table.”

A mortified laugh burst from your mouth as you blushed. “I don’t want you to see that either. I mean, hopefully, it doesn’t happen, but - ”

“Don’t say ‘butt,’” he groaned.

“However,” you corrected, “fingers crossed, Mom will tap you out by the time I get to the pushing stage.”

“Thank god. I love you, and I love baby Seresin-Machado” - he’d placed a hand on your belly during the parent introductions and enjoyed the appreciative looks from the other moms when you corrected them about him being the godfather - “but watching you give birth might put me off sex forever.”

Smiling, you shifted in your seat and shook your head. The first birthing class had been interesting. Most of the time had been spent watching a movie you hadn’t seen since 8th grade - The Miracle of Birth. While mildly traumatizing to watch as a middle schooler, it was worse seeing it now, knowing that you were a few short weeks away from experiencing it. 

But what was even more amusing was watching Javy squirm. He silently gagged, hand over his mouth as he white-knuckled watching the baby crown. “Didn’t you watch it in sex ed or something?”

“No!” he huffed. “We got a banana and condom, and how to make sure that didn’t happen.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh, taking out your phone and hitting record. “Hey Jake - you wanted an update on how the classes went. Just here to tell you that we’ve traumatized your best friend.”

“Hangman,” Javy’s voice was solemn, and you flipped the camera toward him. His eyes darted away from the road briefly. “You owe me. This was worse than some of the shi- stuff…” he corrected with a grimace “that we saw during second class Spring Break.”

“Oh god, do I even want to know?” you asked. His answering grin was teasing.

“Your husband was pretty much the worst when we were in the Academy. And flight school. And FRO… actually, he’s just the worst in general. Why’d you marry him again?” 

“He got me pregnant.” 

“Well, he clearly didn’t pay attention in sex ed,” Coyote laughed, and the camera panned back to you. Jake couldn’t help but smile at the sight. You were smiling - really smiling, the corners of your eyes and nose crinkling - as you rolled your eyes. 

“Your daughter demands a baked potato, so we’re heading to dinner. I’ll talk to you later. Love you!” You blew a kiss at the camera before the video stopped. The text had been waiting for him when he got off duty, and he wished it wasn’t too late to call. 

Jake anxiously counted the days until he got home. It felt like a race against time, especially when you hit 35 weeks pregnant in a few days. While you and Dr. Shearer had said that Sloane didn’t seem like she would arrive anytime soon, he could only hope that his daughter listened to him and held on for as long as possible. And instead of hurrying home to your side, he was stuck in Japan again, the carrier taking its slow route back to the US. 

But it wasn’t just a race against time to get home for the birth that was keeping him up at night - Jake felt the gut-wrenching need to get home to you. 

Guilt had eaten at him since seeing you cry on Christmas and worsened with the talk the day after. While he knew the deployment was hard, you’d done a good job hiding how much you struggled. Jake hated himself for not catching it. For not questioning when you were up late when he texted, only relishing the opportunity to talk to you. Not noticing that the smiles you sent him in pictures and videos didn’t seem genuine or asking about the tears he sometimes thought he saw. Allowing himself to be distracted when you changed the subject the few times he tried to get a straight answer out of you. 

“We didn’t even know each other when we got married.”

His ex-wife’s words, casually stated but sharp as knives, taunted him. And, as much as he tried to drown them out, doubt crept in whenever he thought about you hiding your feelings from him. 

Yes, the situation was different. You’d been together for over a year, not just three months, when you got married. And he’d thought about proposing for a while instead of it being a drunken decision. 

But you were pregnant when he finally did it. Jake couldn’t bring himself to regret Sloane - he loved his little girl more than he ever thought was possible for someone he hadn’t met yet - but… would you have said yes if she wasn’t a factor? 

“We’re not going to sweat the short deployments.”

You’d said that before he went to Vegas for two weeks. Right before calling him on his shit… trying to pull away when he realized he’d fallen hard for you. Bracing himself for another relationship ending because of his career. 

Jake never thought you’d cheat, even though that’s where you’d thought his mind went. No, he was thinking about the toll being apart would take on your relationship. The two weeks away seemed like a big deal back then, but now, at the tail end of five months apart, it was almost laughable that he’d worried back then.

Would you have married him if you knew this was your future - alone, pregnant, and halfway across the world from your husband? Hell, would you have let him stay with you in that grocery store parking lot or sent him packing? Talked to him when he approached you in the hangar, phone clutched in hand and taking a picture of the F-35 tail?

Was it what you still wanted? 

Was he what you wanted?

The email from Admiral Tritz hit his inbox sometime overnight, congratulating him on being approved by the selection board to promote to Lieutenant Commander. Just like he’d promised after dropping the bomb that Jake was deploying on short notice. The official list wasn’t released - there was no notice from NAVYADMIN, and that wouldn’t go out until May - but Tritz had said he would be merit-promoted for the next fiscal year. 

Accepting the promotion and pinning on those oak leaves would require reenlistment. After completing his initial service commitment, his current contract had only a year and a half left.

By the time the list was officially published, he would have just one year before never having to put you through another deployment. You wouldn’t have to worry about moving - they wouldn’t give him orders with so little time left - so you wouldn’t have to leave a job you liked. You could buy a house in Lemoore or any place of your choosing.

Sloane could grow up in one place instead of moving around every few years like the two of you had. 

Jake would be there to watch his little girl grow up, not missing months of her life when he deployed. 

Before, accepting the promotion wouldn’t have been a question - he’d always imagined himself serving his 20 years, if not more. The Navy was a way of life, and Jake Seresin felt the most alive sitting in the cockpit. 

But that was before you.

Before he fell in love and realized how hard being apart was. Before discovering he would be a father and only having a few days to be part of the pregnancy. Before realizing what it meant to be away from his wife and kid for long periods. 

In times like this, Jake wished he had someone to talk to about juggling family life and a military career. While a few people in his squadron had kids, he didn’t feel close enough to ask them how they managed, and none of his close friends had them. As much as Mav was a mentor as an aviator, he hadn’t been around to help raise his soon-to-be stepdaughter. The idea of asking his father was laughable and served more as a cautionary tale of what not to do. 

But as Jake changed into his PT gear for a workout after making plans to meet up with Rooster in the wardroom for dinner, it dawned on him that he did have someone he could talk to.

Sorry for the early text, but do you have time to talk this weekend?

Even though it was almost three in the morning in Florida, the message was read immediately, and a text bubble popped up.

Everything okay? 

Shit. He probably thought that something was wrong with you or the baby. Quickly, Jake responded - Yeah, everyone’s fine. I just wanted your input on something. 

I’m free now. I'm just enjoying my coffee before work.

After hesitating, he sat at his desk and called his father-in-law. The call was answered on the first ring.

“Hey, Jake. What’s on your mind?” 

Shifting on the couch, you shrugged, “I don’t know.” Helen didn't say anything. You hated the silence. To stall, you sipped your decaf coffee while thinking through her question. “I just…I had ideas for how our first big deployment would go.”

“Such as?" 

“Not being pregnant,” you smirked. “Sending sexy pictures in care packages, talking when we could… it wouldn’t be a big deal. I’d keep living my life, and he would live his.”

“Your husband doesn’t find you sexy?”

Snorting, you blushed. You recalled him bending you over the bathroom vanity, making you watch as he fucked you in that damn cowboy hat and told you how sexy you were. Jake stroking his cock in the shower when you visited, his gaze drinking you in. His words echoed in your ears - “Mama, I’ve dreamed about this.” 

“He’s…” you cleared your throat, “fine with how I look.” The corner of Helen’s mouth twitched as she raised an eyebrow. Your blush deepened, thinking of all the pictures and videos he’d taken in the hotel room, whispering how they would join his rotation. “My husband is stuck in a floating city in the middle of the ocean with most of the other people being men. Turning him on wasn’t exactly hard. I’m just lucky - ” you cut yourself off. 

“Lucky?” she prompted.

You took a deep breath and leaned forward, placing the coffee on the table. “Jake was married before, and his ex cheated on him when he was deployed. He worried a lot about that and her health stuff their whole marriage. And his dad cheated on his mom all the time - they’re a whole different set of problems,” you added with a roll of your eyes. “So he is huge on not cheating. Which, of course, I would never do. And he would never. But my husband is really attractive.” Pulling out your phone, you flipped through your pictures, smiling as you landed on one of him mowing the lawn shirtless. Helen’s eyes flicked toward it when you turned the phone around. “I see the looks he gets. I trust him, but…”

“You don’t feel attractive.” 

Nodding, tears welled in your eyes, and a spike of irritation shot through you. “I hate this. I’m not this girl - I don’t need male validation to feel good about myself. I don’t need a man for anything! And yet I find myself sitting here, fucking crying because Jake's gone, and I feel like shit, I’m not happy, and I’m really fucking lonely. And I just…” Hot tears fell as you bit your lower lip, trying to hold back a sob. Helen leaned forward and held out a tissue box. Taking one, you dabbed at your eyes and nose. “I thought it’d be easier. I thought I could handle being alone and doing all this because I saw my mom do it.”

“You’re not meeting the standard you set for yourself.” 

“I told Jake I could do this, and I’m... I’m failing at it.” Blowing out a breath, you shook your head. “I-I’m making this harder on him than it has to be. He’s got bigger things to worry about than me falling apart at home.”

“You’re not as important as his job.” 

“No. I mean, yes,” you quickly corrected, twisting the tissue into knots. “Maybe? In a different way.” Helen stayed silent, tilting her chin to invite you to continue. “His job is dangerous, and he loves it. But all it would take is a split second for something to go wrong. For him to get distracted and pull his focus away. A-and…”

“You’re a distraction.” Unable to speak around the lump in your throat, you nodded. “Have you spoken to your husband about how you’re feeling?” 

Sloane’s foot tapped your fingers, and you smiled faintly at the memory of his words on the trip she’d been conceived on. How he’d used your question about if the mission was dangerous as the opening to negotiations to get married. “He’s one of the best. He’d tell me not to worry.” 

“I’ll take that as you haven’t told him?” When you nodded, she set aside her notepad and pencil. “It’s easy for someone we love to tell us not to worry, but it doesn’t make it go away. Did you feel like this before you were pregnant?”

“Not as badly. I worried, but it wasn’t like this.” Helen nodded.

“Different things can contribute to increased anxiety. There are biological factors - hormone and neurochemical changes - that you can be experiencing. We can work with your doctor on medications for those or get you referred to a psychiatrist if you’d prefer specialist care. However, your environment and experiences can also be a contributing factor. Have you heard of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy?” 

“No.”

She grabbed her notebook and flipped to a blank page, writing three words and drawing arrows between them. “CBT looks at the relationship between our thoughts, emotions, and behaviors and how they influence each other. For example, let’s say I’m at work and have a thought that I’m not good at my job. What emotions might that bring up?”

“I don’t know… embarrassment.”

“That’s one. What about others?”

“Frustration, anger… resentment?”

“Maybe fear?” Helen offered, and you nodded. “So these emotions are brewing,” she pointed at ‘emotions’ on the page before moving her pencil to ‘behaviors.’ “How might those emotions show up in my work?”

“Not volunteering for stuff or calling out to avoid the problem.”

“Maybe isolating as well? Quitting?”

“That seems pretty extreme.”

“It does,” she agreed. “But if I continue to have this thought of ‘I’m not good enough’ and these emotions of embarrassment, frustration, anger, and resentment circling in my brain, that thought gets coded in there. It can create what we call a schema or a core belief. Core beliefs are our mental shortcuts in interpreting the world and spin off automatic thoughts. What comes to mind when I use that term?”

“Subconscious thoughts,” you said, putting your hands on your belly when Sloane kicked. “Intrusive ones, maybe?”

“Automatic thoughts are just our brain processing stimuli as we go about our day - they can be good, bad, or neutral depending on the situation. It all depends on how we interpret that thought by running it through our core beliefs. Going back to the example, let’s say I mess up at work. With that core belief of ‘I’m not good enough,’ what kind of automatic thoughts might shoot out?”

“It’s more proof I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

“Yup. And it loops in all of those negative emotions we talked about earlier. So what we want to do is challenge those thoughts - push back on them to change our emotions and behaviors. How might I challenge that thought of messing up as more proof that I don’t know what I’m doing?”

“Mistakes happen.”

“‘To err is human’ and all that,” Helen smiled. “I can give myself a break. By thinking of an alternative realistic thought, I’ve pushed back on a cognitive distortion - a mental bias or flawed thinking. Like perfectionism, or ignoring the positive things in favor of focusing on the negative.” Taking a breath, she set her notepad down and leveled you with a look. You tensed. “Would you be okay if I share some things I’ve picked up on in our last few sessions?”

“Sure,” you said hesitantly. 

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you see yourself as a very independent person.”

“Is that a bad thing?” 

“No,” Helen said quickly. “Independence is a good thing. However, it can cause some… friction… when your desire for autonomy and self-reliance butt up against situations where having a partner or someone to rely on might be beneficial. When you fixate on how you think things should be done, rather than how they are.” You just stared at her for a long moment.

“So you’re saying I’m stubborn.” The words fell from your lips, an accusation you’d heard many times. 

“You have high expectations for yourself. From what we’ve discussed, a lot of responsibility fell on you at a young age. When your dad deployed, it was just you and your mom, and you moved a lot. And that combination instilled a lot of independence in you. It made it easier for you to adapt to new situations and face challenges and made you stronger. And” - she tilted her head again - “you got a front-row seat to see how the military can influence a marriage. That up-close view contributes to your black-and-white thinking - you expect yourself to be that perfect spouse where you are independent and don’t need your husband because otherwise, you’re failing and letting him down by wanting and needing that extra support. You’re not allowing for the grey area, where you may succeed in some aspects but struggle in others. And, at the same time, you’re also measuring yourself against Jake’s ex-wife and allowing that to shape your belief about how to be the best partner for him - one who doesn’t place demands on him or cause additional stress.” 

You blinked at her, feeling a flush creep up your cheeks. “And here I thought I just had control issues,” you said, trying and failing to sound flippant. 

Helen leaned forward and offered you the tissue box. It took you a moment to realize your cheeks were damp again. “Control and perfectionism go hand in hand. Those cognitive distortions won’t be confined only to your marriage but will show up in other aspects of your life. Normally, I wouldn’t tell a client that all at once. But does any of that ring true?” 

Clearing your throat, you nodded. “M-my therapist in college said something kinda similar. But am I… are we,” your hand fell to your stomach again. “Am I setting my daughter up for the same problem? Raising Sloane, knowing that Jake will be gone at times?” 

Helen encouraged you to do something to take care of yourself after the session. Leaving her office, you cried in the car, overwhelmed and happy you’d taken the rest of the day off. The house was too quiet when you got home, and you quickly changed out of your work clothes for something more comfortable. Sitting before the television, you let your eyes blur, thinking what you could do for yourself. Reuben had swung by your office and invited you to the bar after work for drinks and games, but you didn’t want to deal with the bar scene. You always got dirty looks for being there, even when you were nursing a soda. 

The sound of waves shook you from your stupor, and you watched the cruise commercial before pushing off the couch. It had been too long since you’d been to the beach. You couldn’t help but think about the last time you’d stepped foot in the ocean, coral sand underfoot as Jake held you in Japan. In Florida, you’d made sure to go to the beach at least a few times a year, and always before New Year's Eve. It had been a nice way to wrap up the year, looking for small sand dollars in the surf and giving yourself time to reflect.  

Throwing an overnight bag together, you sent a message to the group chat saying you were passing on the night out. Evening traffic held you up as you headed out of town, directions for the nearest beach pulled up. It was a two-hour drive, and you had to stop frequently to use the bathroom, but it felt good to be doing something. Hotels in the area were slightly cheaper in the off-season, and you found a cute bed and breakfast with ocean views. 

When Jake responded to your text from the harbor when you’d grabbed dinner, you knew his question about the wisdom of being so far away from the hospital came from a place of love and concern, but it annoyed you. So when he asked if you were available for a call, you just texted back three words: I need this. Leaving the phone on the bed, you walked to the sliding glass doors, pushed them open, and collapsed into one of the patio chairs. Waves crashed in the bay across the street, and you let your eyes drift closed while listening to the noise from the nearby restaurant. When you went back inside, you had a few missed calls from him and two voice notes. 

“If goin’ to the beach is what you needed, I’m glad you’re there. I just… never mind. I’m gonna play basketball with the guys. I’ll try you again when I’m done.” You felt a pang of hurt and regret at his frustrated tone and the abrupt cut-off. Your thumb hovered over the second note for a long moment before closing your eyes and tapping the screen. Jake’s sigh greeted you, “I love you, darlin’. I miss you. Do whatever you need to to feel better, but don’t cut me out. Please.”

Sniffling, you brushed away the tears on your cheeks and held the phone up to record your voice note. “I’m sorry, babe. I love you, too. I had therapy earlier and feel a little… off. Gonna take a bath, so give me a call when you’re free.”

The hot water felt good as you sank into the tub, your belly exposed to the cool air. The parenting class had suggested a thermometer for the bathtub, and you’d tossed the little otter in to test it, along with some lavender-scented Epsom salts. Dr. Shearer’s nurse had given you the go-ahead for a hot bath - within reason - when you’d called earlier and asked if it was okay. Lowering yourself so the water covered your shoulders, you felt a smile tug at your lips. It felt so good to have a hot bath, even if you did have to promise to keep it short and a cold bottle of water within reach. Closing your eyes, you relaxed in the tub, smiling at the small waves that Sloane made when she shifted. 

When the timer sounded, you groaned and turned it off. The water drained around you, lapping against your breasts, and you hesitated before drying off your hands and reaching for the phone again. Using your toes to close the drain, you held the camera up and stared at yourself on the screen. Your cheeks were flushed, and your hair piled on top of your head, loose strands curling around your face with the heat. Feeling slightly foolish, you sank lower in the water, so it just covered your nipples and snapped a picture. Quickly locking the screen, you got out of the tub and dried off. The towel couldn’t wrap around your front when you tucked it around your chest, your belly-busting through the gap. Feeling ridiculous again, you took another picture before getting dressed.

After turning on the gas fireplace, you climbed into bed to ward off the January chill. The flames flickered across the room as you cuddled with your pregnancy pillow, wishing it was your husband. Grabbing your phone, you pulled up the pictures you’d just taken and studied them. They weren’t… horrible. As much as you felt like a beached whale, they weren’t the worst.

Groaning, you let the phone fall before lifting it again and flipping to your notes app. Helen told you to start tracking your negative thoughts about yourself and how you challenged them so you could talk about them in session. I feel like a beached whale you typed. The cursor blinked as you stared at the words and felt tears burning your eyes. 

I’m letting Jake and Sloane down quickly joined the list. And then they flowed out of you.

I’m weak

I’m going to be the reason Jake leaves the Navy

Jake will resent me for keeping him from doing something he loves

He’s going to get hurt because of me

I’m not going to be a good mom

I’m failing as a wife

Jake isn’t going to find me attractive

I’m not strong enough to do this

Jake is going to leave me

I’m just like his ex

I’m the reason Jake won’t talk to his mom and sister

The screen changed as you typed another thought, switching to a picture of Jake. Sending the call to voicemail, you sat up and swiped at your tear-stained cheeks. 

Another call came in, and you also sent that one to voicemail. Getting out of bed, you hurried to the bathroom to splash water on your face. The screen lit up with a text - Just tell me if you don’t want to talk.

A sob burst from your mouth as you picked up the phone with shaking hands. I just need a minute. Pressing a hand to your mouth, you met your gaze in the mirror and told yourself to stop. You couldn’t make Jake sit through another call when you were falling apart. 

Sixty seconds later, the phone lit up again. Knowing you couldn’t ignore another call, you turned on the sink and grabbed your electric toothbrush, hitting the on button before answering and putting it on speaker. “Darlin’?” 

Turning off the toothbrush, you spit into the sink and splashed more water on your face, making enough noise that Jake would hear you. But just the sound of his voice made your throat tight, and you buried your face in the handtowel, forcing yourself to take deep breaths. “Just a minute,” you said, using the cloth to muffle your voice. After clearing your throat and breathing, you said, “Hey.”

“Hey.” You heard him clear his throat. “Are you mad at me, sweetheart?”

“Fuck, Jake,” you snapped, tears starting to fall again. 

“What?” 

“I just stopped crying, damn it.” And then, to your horror, the phone rang again as he tried to video call you. You denied it. As you scrambled to call him, he video-called again. When you declined it and called him, he picked up and hissed your name.

“I wanna see your goddamn face.”

“No. C-can’t we just t-talk?” 

“No. You’re just gonna fuckin’ lie to me again and tell me that everything’s fine when it’s not. I can’t trust you to tell me the truth unless I’m lookin’ at you.” 

So when the video call came through, you snatched the phone up and glared at your husband sitting at the desk in his stateroom. “Happy?” you demanded.

“Thrilled,” he shot back. “Nothin’ I love more than seein’ my wife in tears again.” 

“You asked for it! We could have just talked on the phone and - ”

“Pretended everything was okay instead of you being honest with me?”

“I’m trying to make this easier for you!”

“Stop making it easy on me!” Jake yelled, green eyes flashing with anger. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ - just stop! Yell at me, make me feel like shit - tell me that I’m the reason you’re depressed and that I abandon you when I’m supposed to be with you. That I’m letting my wife and daughter down by not being there to take care of you when you need me, and you’re already talkin’ to a lawyer about getting a divorce because you can’t do this anymore, and - ”

“Jake - ”

“You’d have been better off not marrying me, and - ”

“Jake - ”

“Sloane is gonna hate me for being a deadbeat who - ”

“Jacob Michael!” You stared at him, wide-eyed with shock at his tirade. Jake’s face flushed, his chest heaving like he’d been running. As you watched, he dropped his head into his hands, fingers tugging on his hair so harshly you wished you were there to stop him. “Stop,” you said softly. 

“I can’t,” he mumbled. 

“Yes, you…” You trailed off when he lifted his head, and you saw his tearful eyes. “Honey, are - are you alright?”

That made him chuckle, and he scrubbed a hand down his face, his wedding band glinting. “You’re supposed to be yelling at me, darlin’.”

“I’m not gonna yell at you.” 

“You should. I deserve it.” 

“Why?” At that, he scoffed and started ticking the reasons off his fingers.

“I knocked you up and then got hit with a deployment a week later. And made you marry me before I left. Then - ”

“You didn’t ‘knock me up,’” you said, putting a protective hand over your belly. That phrasing felt… wrong. “We got pregnant. And then decided to get married a little faster than we initially planned.”

“I still left you.”

“You didn’t want to.” 

“Still makes me a shitty husband and father.” 

“I… I feel like I’m a shitty wife and mom,” you said softly.

“You’re not.”

“You’re not, either.” Taking the moment of silence as an opportunity to leave the bathroom, you settled in a chair by the fire. It threw just enough light to see your face but gave you cover to feel comfortable admitting, “I-I’m afraid you’re gonna leave the Navy because of me.” Jake’s jaw ticked, and he looked away from the camera. Your heart lept into your throat.

“I don’t know how long I can do this, darlin’. But if I separate, it’s gonna be my choice.”

Drawing in a shaky breath, you shook your head. “Jake, I know it’s been hard but - ”

“I got the promotion.” 

“You did? Congra - ”

“I have to sign on for three more years if I accept it.” You stared at him for a moment before nodding slowly. 

“Okay. We can do that.”

“Sweetheart. I don’t know if I can do that. This deployment has been the worst one I’ve been on, and I don’t know if I can do it again. Bein’ away from you was hard enough, but next time, I’ll be away from Sloane, too. Realistically, we’re lookin’ at another five years - minimum - if I do it. That’s five years of maybe missing birthdays, anniversaries, her firsts… I don’t know if it’s worth it.”

“B-but you love flying.”

“I do. But I love my girls more. And I can find different ways of doing it.” He sighed when he saw the flash of your teeth as you chewed your lip. “Say it. And turn on a light so I can see you.” 

Staying put, you closed your eyes, unable to see him when you forced the words out. “I’m afraid you’re gonna blame me if you’re unhappy if you separate. I’m afraid I’m making your life harder like your ex-wife.” 

There was silence for a long moment, then the sound of metal scraping. Opening one eye, you saw Jake pacing, hands back in his hair. You watched, wishing you were there to hold him. Finally, he turned back to the camera and growled, “I want to see you when I say this, darlin’, so turn on a damn light.” Reluctantly, you stood and moved to the bed, flicking on the lamp and pulling one of the arms of your pregnancy pillow over your lap. Leaning on the desk, he stared at you, his expression stern. “If and when I leave the Navy, it’s gonna because I want to. We’ll discuss it, but when I’m done, I’m done.”

“I can do this, Jake. I - ”

“When,” he spoke over you, “I am done, I’m done. I will not lose my family because of the military.”

“You won’t,” you muttered. He ignored you and continued. 

“You, Sloane, and any other kids we have will come before my job. And I will tell you every day until you get it through your thick, beautiful skull - you are my priority, darlin’. Nothin’ else matters but you and our family. Understood?” 

“Ja - ”

“Understood?” 

“Yes, Lieutenant Seresin, sir!” you snapped, giving him a mocking salute. 

“Pause.” 

“What?”

“Pause,” Jake repeated, disappearing from the screen as you resisted the urge to disconnect the call. When he returned, he held up a well-worn paper before reading from it. “Update four - ‘Parties agree not to walk out on arguments. Parties agree to request a ‘pause’ if necessary and will finish the discussion when cooler heads prevail.’ You wrote it, darlin’, so I’m calling a pause.” 

“Fine,” you huffed, blinking back tears at the reappearance of the contract. His having it with him made your heart skip a beat. You watched him read over it again before shaking his head.

“We never updated this. We need to.” 

“It’s stupid.” His eyes shot to yours, and he shook his head.

“It’s not. I take this as seriously as our vows, sweetheart. But we need to figure out what anniversary we’re gonna update it on.” 

“You only want one anniversary.”

“But you want two - a sentimental one and our wedding anniversary. So what’s it gonna be? When are we gonna update this instead of doing” - he paused to look at the paper again - “‘ad hoc meetings to discuss clauses and conditions as they arise’?” A smile tugged at your lips as you shook your head. 

“Pretty sure it says ‘annual dating contract’ at the top, Seresin. So that would put it up for review in a few months.” 

“Gonna have to rename it to ‘annual marriage contract,’ Seresin,” he shot back.

“Gonna add it to your list of updates you want?” 

“Yup. Right up there with you sending me more dirty pictures.” You flushed, looking away from the camera. “Mrs. Seresin,” Jake said, his tone teasing. “You have something to tell me?” 

Jake got you to send the two pictures you’d taken earlier in the night through cajoling and pleading. And when he’d started talking about how sexy you were in them, you tried to shut it down without success, which kicked off the fight again, your husband begging you to understand how attractive he found you. 

It was lucky that Rooster and Fritz were on liberty because the call lasted hours. You plugged in your phone when the battery almost died, set it down when it overheated, and your arm tired of holding it up. A few more pauses were called, and you couldn’t help but chuckle when Jake pointed out that you were both going all out for your third official fight of the relationship. 

And, as hard as it was to hear, it was good that you were fighting. Sure, your husband calling you a “creepy Stepford wife version of the woman I fell in love with” wasn’t exactly great. Still, he didn’t really appreciate being called “an arrogant asshole who would prefer to martyr yourself instead of listening to your fucking wife and letting her decide what she can and can’t take.” But for the first time since finding out he was deploying, it felt like you and Jake were being honest with one another about how you felt. About how hard navigating the pregnancy, deployment, and first months of your marriage had been for both of you. 

At some point, you fell asleep during a pause. When you woke the following day, you scrambled to grab your phone and was greeted with a message from Jake.

I love you. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I can’t wait to get home and show you exactly how much I love you and our daughter. Only 6 more weeks, darling. 

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

Author's Note: Did I have to write extensively about CBT? Probably not, but it's my favorite modality to use. It was kind of fun writing Jake and Darlin' fighting because they don't do it that often, but was definitely needed to clear the air. It was fun going back through some of their highlights from previous chapters. Not to mention Jake realizing that he has a whole other family that he can lean on now, and calling his father-in-law for advice.

And Javy continues to be the best godfather.

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[pedriache]

hii!!! How are you?? Could you please write smth with angest to fluff for Pau Cubarsi?🙏🙏🥰 Thank you!!

Center of gravity — Pau Cubarsí.

Pairing: Pau Cubarsí x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Pau had broken up a year ago, but somehow every time he’s stressed, he finds that you are the only thing that can ground him.

Word count: 1.0K

Disclaimer/s: Stressed(ish)!Pau so angst to comfort/fluff

A/N: Hiii!! I’m quite exhausted myself but good nonetheless! thank you for asking <3 I’m making my way through my requests and was listening to this song and was like omgg.

Rain splattered across your bedroom window, casting a gloomy feel across your bedroom. It had been raining on and off all day, which you usually did not mind, but for some reason you did today. You were grumpy all morning, and that only worsened as the day drew to an end.

You had finally gotten home from class, showered, ate dinner, and gotten comfortable in bed when your phone pinged. Picking it up, you exhaled slowly. The name ‘Pau’ lit up your phones screen. He’d had just as bad of a day, or seemingly worse (you assumed), considering he was texting you late at night. Like always.

Quickly typing back, you give him the go-ahead to come to your house. Your parents were out of the country for their anniversary, but even if they were home, they wouldn’t have cared.

Pau and you had broken up nearly a whole year ago, but even then, you stayed in contact. He visits, has meals with your parents while he waits for you to get home, ect. Your house was just as much Pau’s as it was yours since you’d grown up together.

Even then, the breakup still hurt. He was busy, never had time for you, the list goes on. Though, you two still valued each other as friends, and hopefully one day, you could progress past that again.

Lost deep within your thoughts, you don’t hear the door open and close or the heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. You only realize he was there when your door cracks open and he says through a tired voice, “you decent?”

Jumping slightly, you let out a hmph. You sit up straight on your bed, scooting to make space for him. “Yep!”

Pau walks into your bedroom, shrugging off his wet hoodie before joining you on the bed. He doesn’t say a word until he’s laid down beside you, his arms looping around your waist as he lays his head on your stomach. “Hey.” He sighs out and you can already tell he’s burnt out, although from what.. you couldn’t be sure.

“Hey.” You hum, fingers finding their way to his hair, brushing a few strands away from his eyes. “Your hair is getting long again.”

You feel a slight upturn of Pau’s lips against your stomach, making a smile grow on your own face. “I kind of prefer it longer, but if you say I need a cut..”

“I did not say I didn’t like it.” You chuckle, twirling of piece of his hair around your finger. “So..” You weren’t sure how to approach the topic, so you trail off, wanting him to start it rather than have you grasp at straws.

Pau lifts his head up to look at you, his eyes fluttering slowly and you watch the way his long, thick eyelashes briefly kiss cheeks. “I don’t want to talk about it, tell me about your day.” He almost whispers, his eyes too busy flickering around your face with a hint of uncertainty flashing across them.

“My day was shit, but it’s better now.” You smile, tilting your head onto your shoulder as you meet his gaze. “What’d you do today?”

“Practice, practice, more practice, went home to do homework, did said homework, then…” He licks his lips, “yeah, that’s pretty much it.”

You knew he didn’t want to talk about what was troubling him, but you wanted to know. There was something different in the way he was holding you today, there was something hidden beneath his tired eyes when he looked at you, something you couldn’t recognize but it made you feel warm inside.

“Sounds tiring.” You finally reply, shifting around so Pau wasn’t resting against you at an awkward angle anymore.

“It was.” He murmurs, his hand trailing under your shirt to rest on your hip. He proceeded to draw miscellaneous shapes on it, his eyes solely focused on his doodling.

You couldn’t help the smile that broke out on your face, despite how hard to tried to stop it. Memories of nights where you and Pau would skip out on fancy dates just to cuddle together, all the nights he found his solace in your warm embrace. In a way, it made you feel sick. Like this was how it was meant to be, but something was stopping you from achieving it again.

Pau’s doodles stop, causing your eyes to flicker to him in protest. You find he was already looking at you, his eyes soft and bright despite the fact that your room was only lit by a dull lamp on your bedside. “What?” You ask, reaching up to move another stray strand of his hair.

“I missed you extra today.” He shrugs, “I’m just thankful you let me come over, that’s all.”

Your heart was pounding against your ribcage, and you didn’t bother to hide your smile this time. “I miss you extra all the time.”

A small laugh escapes Pau’s lips, his head dipping down to hide his face in the crook between your waist and arm, where he placed a small kiss on the exposed flesh of your inner forearm. “We’re so extra in general.”

By now, you’re laughing too. The situation was all too ironic. Ex’s who see each other when they need someone to lean on, ex’s who occasionally eat dinner with each other’s families, ex’s who cuddle, ex’s who say things couples say. Ex’s, who are still so obviously in love.

Pau’s head lifts to catch a glimpse of your laughing face, one he’d always adored, and he realizes if he just leaned in a little closer…

“That’s a bad idea.” You point at him, recognizing the look of longing. Your finger was mere centimeters from his face and the only thing separating the distance. But you’re not saying no, you would never say no. At least not to him.

Pau pushes your hand away from his face, “probably.” He whispers. Despite both of your words, both of you lean into each other, lips colliding in a long awaited reunion.

Likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. Lmk if you’d like to be tagged in any of my future posts.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby !

[alexglitches]

Could I possibly ask for the dorm leaders with a partner that has Essential Tremors?

Essential tremor is a nervous system condition, also known as a neurological condition, that causes involuntary and rhythmic shaking. It can affect almost any part of the body, but the trembling occurs most often in the hands, especially when doing simple tasks, such as drinking from a glass or tying shoelaces.

I have it and I was wondering how they would deal with it.

okay, I’m so so so so sorry this never got replied to I feel awful 😞. I finally got around and did some research so hopefully this is good

Dorm Leaders with an s/o that has Essential Tremors

Riddle is very careful with what he says and does around you. He doesn’t treat you like glass, per se, but because of his impatience, he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings by telling you to hurry up, even though your hand is hella shaky. He’s very patient with you, and is always ready to help you if your shaking gets bad. He wants to look and see if there’s any way magic or something can help you, but he’ll never do it without your permission first.

Leona, with his sharp vision, noticed your tremors immediately. But he never spoke up about them unless you spoke up first. Since you’re his s/o, he really cares, and doesn’t want to come off as rude about it, considering that he has no speech filter. He’s careful around you, and makes sure that if your tremors worsen, you aren’t holding something that can hurt you. He’s definitely willing to carry the smallest of things, even though he puts up a fit about it.

Azul is intrigued, and is actually the first to ask you about it. Considering him being a merman, merpeople anatomy is different from human anatomy, so he’s naturally curious about something he’s never seen before, like your tremors. You’re telling him that it just happens? It’s a disorder you have and you can’t control it? Leave it to him to be the UltimateBoyfriend™️, he’ll carry everything for you, and will only stop if you put your foot down and tell him you’ll be fine, but if you ask, he will deliver.

Kalim, unlike the others so far, is actually oblivious to your disorder until you accidentally drop something and break it. You’re freaking out and apologizing, he’s freaking out because he’s worried you got hurt, and Jamil is watching the chaos unfold with a tied look on his face. He listens attentively to you as you explain what happened, and he totally understands what’s happening now. He’s now extra careful about what you hold because he doesn’t want you to get hurt, but will stop if you feel insulted. He cares so much <3.

Vil notices when he paints your nails for the first time. Normally, you wouldn’t want him to, saying you can do it yourself, but today he felt like pampering you, and it quickly went south. Your hands were shaky, and the nail polish went everywhere, at that point you have to explain why you’re so shaky. Vil’s a bit insulted you didn’t tell him at first, but he ultimately understands the situation. He takes extra care now when he paints your nails, making sure to go slowly so he wouldn’t mess up, and he’s super patient as he listens to you talk about your day, your hands less shaky than normal.

Idia also notices immediately, and is one a one-way train to helping you take care of it. He came up with so many different contraptions to see which ones work best in controlling the shakiness, but you’re not having it. You try at first, to make him feel better, but nothings really vibing with you. Some of them work, and he’s scratching his head as to why you’re so apprehensive to them, which you explain. You’re holding his hands, shaking a bit more now, and you shoot him a grateful smile. Idia.exe has crashed.

Malleus is extremely confused by it. He finally holds your hand for the first time and he feels your hand shaking like a leaf. At first, he’s worried he’s frightened you, but you reassure him that that’s not the case. You explain why you’re shaking, and while he tries to understand, he barely manages to wrap his head around it. He becomes strangely intrigued with you’re shakes, and worries whenever they come and go or worsen, but the more he holds your hands, the more endeared he becomes, because it still means you’re with him.

~~~ AGAIN, I FEEL SO BAD THIS TOOK ME SO LONG TO UPLOAD, I DID AS MUCH RESEARCH AS I COULD SO I COULD BE AS ACCURATE AS POSSIBLE, BUT THEN I BEGAN OVERTHINKING IT AND WORRYING BECAUSE I BARELY WRITE SCENARIOS LIKE THIS THEN I GOT SO BUSY I FORGOT

Better late than never though, I really hope you enjoyed this, it spent so long sitting in my google docs 😭😭😭

[raeathnos]

.

[animeyanderelover]

Hi, can I request Chae Yul, Dabi, Itachi, Giorno Giovanna, Narancia Ghigra, Leone Abbacchio, Douma and Tomioka Giyu with a very shy s/o ? S/o tries to have as little as possible eye contact with the yandere and tries to be as far away as possible? They also try to cover their faces when they are very embarrassed.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessive relationship, obsession, stalking, clinginess, manipulation, isolation, jealousy, social anxiety, insecurities, violence, death

Very shy s/o

Itachi Uchiha

🍡Your extremely shy nature is as obvious as it can get and has caused Itachi to feel multiple times a day concerned about you even during his stalker phrase. You’re socially awkward and lack experience as you tend to stick with the things you’re familiar with out of fear to embarrass yourself so the eventual abduction is the worst situation you could be confronted with. Itachi is as understanding as he can be though, is patient and doesn’t try to force you into any more uncomfortable situations. You need time to at least get a chance to adjust but whilst he doesn’t confront you, he at least shows up long enough to let you see that he doesn’t plan to harm you. Itachi definitely feels more protective and there’s this possessive urge at times to keep you completely for himself and to take charge over your life as you have troubles voicing out your opinion. He snaps mostly out of it though, even goes as far as encouraging you to speak up more.

Dabi

🔹Dabi finds the struggles of his s/o and their shyness just freaking adorable, especially since it’s such a strong contrast to his own personality and the ones of the people he surrounds himself with. Seeing you struggling to talk to others or speak up is such a cute sight to see, stalking you and seeing you troubling yourself with concerned thoughts never fails to lift his mood. Whilst it is cute seeing you being insecure and shy by yourself, the sight of someone making you uncomfortable has his blood boiling and everyone who dares to make his little mouse shy will burn for it. He knows that an abduction will surely only worsen things for you but he doesn’t give a fuck about it. You’re such a breath of fresh air in his life, too pure for someone like him but the taboo of it makes it all more exciting. He attempts to make you a bit more comfortable around him though but at times he makes you purposely nervous to see your reactions and tease you.

Tomioka Giyu

🌊Giyu isn’t really any better than his s/o, he just manages to be more stoic and hide his emotions better than his s/o does. There’s this feeling of anxiety and nervousness when Tomioka gets the chance to spend time with you though as he doesn’t know what to say or how to express his feelings for you. The end result is always this awkward silence where you try your best to keep your distance and avoid eye contact. Initially when Giyu notices, he’s worried it’s because of him. After some stalking observing, he comes to realize that you’re just naturally very shy and not because you’re intimidated or uncomfortable around him hopefully. Your shy nature stresses him at times out though since he’s almost always worried that he might do something that may make you uncomfortable so he becomes hyper aware when he’s around you, secretly desperate to gain some of your affection. He can’t help the increase within his protective nature though, if someone makes you feel anxious he will step in.

Douma

❄️Possibly one of the worst when it comes to a very shy s/o. Now, in Douma’s eyes his darling is nothing short of adorable. Every little reaction has his heart fluttering wildly in his chest, every shy word spoken has him enraptured. He dotes excessively on you for your shyness, spoils you with all the riches he can give. Unfortunately Douma lets his sadistic streak show as he forces you into uncomfortable situations with him only to see your shyness and witness the way you avoid eye contact, stutter and pinch your heated cheeks whilst cooing over your sweetness. Whether he violates your personal space or asks you gruesome and weird questions. It should be pointed out that Douma is awfully possessive though. You are only for his eyes and everyone else who either gets a glimpse of your adorable personality or makes you a bit anxious will be beheaded on the spot. For that sake Douma keeps you isolated as everything about you should only be his to savor and cherish.

Giorno Giovanna

🐞Some may think that this should be forbidden. Giorno himself understands though. The unlikelihood of two people so vastly different as someone like you should never be involved with the likes of him. Ultimately Giorno won’t stay away from you though as he’s possessive and partially delusional too. Unlike the force and power he holds, he approaches you normally though as he hides who he is from you in an attempt to charm you and have you falling in love with him naturally instead of straight up forcing you. He takes advantage of your shy personality though as he knows that you feel nervous to approach new people and starts manipulating your surroundings so you end up spending a lot of time with him and only him. Whilst your shy reactions around him might be adorable at first, it’s important to him that you feel comfortable around him. Giorno is fairly patient and suave with you but you have an abduction coming eventually for you.

Leone Abbacchio

🍷Abbacchio is hit with feelings of insecurity and shame as he can’t help but feel like this should be illegal. You’re without a doubt the purest and softest person he’s ever met and normally he would have frowned at your behavior. But all it really took was your sensibility and your caring nature to make him fall for you as you showed him more kindness than the majority of people he knows. He doesn’t deserve you, it’s something Leone tells himself daily as you don’t fit within the grim lifestyle he leads. He doesn’t want you to find out who he really is for the sake of keeping what he has of you in his life now. He’s a bit dependent on the slices of kindness and nurture you give him, especially since he knows that you have troubles socializing due to your shyness, a trait which overwhelms him at times. Abbacchio turns very vicious and aggressive around others if they make you anxious, follows you around more than you should know as his protective streak makes it hard for him to not do nothing.

Narancia Ghirga

🧡Narancia overdoes it when it comes to his darling due to the clear inexperience in general when it comes to the concept of loving someone romantically. He's never really met someone as shy as you before either and frankly spoken, that leads to some misunderstandings, especially since he's paranoid. Your shyness is mistaken as fear as you can't keep eye contact with him and always keep a good distance between you two. Narancia, assuming that you don't want to be with him, takes for that the wrong path as he starts following you around even more, invades your privacy and tries desperately to gain your attention until he can't take it anymore and bursts out in tears in front of you, blaming you for not even giving him a chance and begging you to accept him. Even after he has understood that you're just a very shy person, he turns only worse with those around you as he starts threatening everyone as soon as you look remotely uncomfortable and smothers you with his presence and affection to make you feel protected.

Chae Yul

💜Chae Yul might find your shyness adorable later on but as long as you keep avoiding him and his gaze, you really trigger the worst inside of him. Yul is addicted to your thoughtfulness and your kindness you show him, especially during the days where he is bullied. He starts to believe that you two only need each other and his obsession really starts kicking in after he realizes that you're someone who has troubles adjusting to new people and new situations, hence why he makes sure to keep you away from others. You only need him and he makes it significantly hard for you to form new bonds since he's clingy and follows you around everywhere, convinces you to stay with him and threatens and scares everyone else away, paranoid that you might get close to someone. He's already boiling with jealousy if he realizes that you have less troubles looking at someone and talking to them which only results in him guilt-tripping you with tears into showing him affection, he won't allow anyone else getting in between you two.

[staawberru]

Yandere psychologist x reader pls

Male Yandere psychologist x gn reader

hiiiii thank you so much for your request you didn’t specify a gender so I just went with gender neutral! 2.7k words

You're not crazy, you’ve never been crazy. then why are you here, a crazy house. This is where actual crazy people live, not you! Your normal your normal your normal oops you accidentally pulled your hair out again.

   “[last name]!” You hear the shrill voice of your nurse, as she rushes in. Ms Becky was a nice old lady, well nice enough. She had a short brown bob that was graying, and brown eyes covered by her big glasses. She wore the typical uniform containing a long tight skirt and a blouse. 

  “Now why would you do that, I thought you were getting better,” she scolded and she wrote something down, probably to your psychologist. You scowl, you don’t like him, even though everyone else does. There's just something off about him. Especially the way he looks at you, like a pervert. She finished writing the note and looked up at you.

   “Stay still, I’m gettin your breakfast,” she walks out, you hear her heels click on the floor till you can’t. You smile finally, some peace. You go to your bed, and as you were about to pull out your secret diary you hear the door open. It was probably Ms Becky with your food. You look at your pillow like you weren’t about to pull your most prized possession. 

   “[name]!” You hear the cheerful voice of your psychologist speak out. Your mood immediately worsens. It’s Dr. Haynes your number one opp (see you know slang how can you be crazy?) dr Haynes was A darker man with shorter brown hair. He has foresty green eyes and he always wore a brown suit. he’s done everything to worsen your stay. First he took your phone and then made it so you can’t be around anyone else. Like what kind of person does that? 

  “What are you doing?” He said and walked to you, stopping when he saw your hair on the floor. He frowned.

  “[name],” he sounded disappointed. You glare at your pillow, you don’t need his pity. 

   “Do you want to talk about it,” he asks. You lose it the way his voice sounded so smooth and pitiful. It makes you seethe,  I mean how dare he? Treating you like a child grr. He walks up and pats your back and honestly it’s the last straw. You turn around as fast as you can and try to punch him keyword try. You try to punch, slap and bite, you try to do anything to him but it doesn’t work. He grabs your hands and holds them above your head. You can still kick so you do that, kicking him if he ever tries to get close. But unfortunately it doesn’t work you don’t know how but he’s pinned you to the bed. You cringe, him this close is gross.

   “Ah! Dr Haynes I was looking for you, oh what happened?” Ms Becky asked worriedly. 

  “It’s nothing, this little thing just decided to attack me,” he smiled looking at you.          “Can you get the sedative so they can get their nap time?” Little thing? Little thing?!! You're not little, you're big and strong! This angers you more as you go back to trying to fight. You were about to try to kick him again even if he’s holding your leg down but stopped. wait nap time oh no that could only mean one thing being sedated! You hate being sedated, it leaves you powerless, weak and unable to stop him if he tries anything, and you're pretty sure he will try something. You struggle to get out of his hold now you don’t want to sleep, you don’t want to be here. 

   “Stop! let me go!” you yelp, as you start to wiggle out of his grasp. He may be stronger than you but you were smaller and you were going to use that to your advantage. So you do just that, you escape from under him, well your top half, you manage to get your arms free in the struggle and you start to push him off you. You try and free your legs but it doesn’t work so you resort to pulling his hair to hopefully get a reaction, but he’s been oddly quiet, and unmoving. He lets go, and you scurry over to the other side of the small room. You pant your arms hurt now from how hard he was holding on to them. Dr Haynes was looking forward. You couldn’t see his face but you were sure he was fuming. But that didn’t bother you. All you know is you won, you won against this strong doctor, I mean aren’t doctors nerds, why is he strong? And as you relish in your victory Ms Becky comes in concerned, I mean who can blame her? Imagine coming in a room to see your boss roughed up with some of his hair missing knowing he was trying to subdue a patient. You know how this looks, it paints you as a villain and him as the victim, but it was honestly the other way around! You were just protecting yourself! Honest! 

   “Oh my goodness Dr Haynes are you ok?” She asked disturbed. He looked up at her with claw marks you don’t remember putting on his face, he was bleeding. It was disgusting, but even more disgusting knowing the fact that people would see that and think, ‘[name] did that they’re a monster!’ So you do the only thing you can think of to run, your adrenaline is still high so you run, you run and hide in the closet. The closet is dark but that doesn’t bother you. you're used to the dark, you like the dark. The dark helps you think. Think about your ruined life stuck in this god awful place. It helps you think about Dr Haynes.

   Dr Haynes was your doctor the day you stepped foot in this hell. You remember the receptionist that signed you in saying ‘oh! You have Dr Haynes your luck! He’s a sweetheart’ and she couldn’t be farther from the truth. He was wicked the moment you first met. You remember walking into the room and seeing him at this chair smiling expectantly like he’d known you would listen to him. The way he looked at you like he knew everything about you. The way he looked at your face still red from crying. He patted the chair next to him.

   “Welcome [name],” he had said smiling. “I assume you don’t know why you're here?” His grin widened. You glare

    “Of course I don’t! I’m not crazy!” you yell and grab his shoulders, shaking them a little. You’d assume he would realize you are not crazy and let you out but no. for someone who practically lives with crazy people he doesn’t realize. He even laughed when you told him, laughed! He's probably the crazy one if anything. 

   “They all say that,” his creepy grin continues to grow. All you want to do is rip his eyes out for looking at you like that, maybe claw off his regretful pretty face. But he’s beneath you, now all you have to do is be as quiet as a mouse in hopes he won’t find you.

    You can hear the sound of the speaker ring “we have a patient lose, repeat we have a patient lose. Be careful they are dangerous be careful they are dangerous. If you see a patient running around please contact dr Haynes. Thank you!” You dangerous? Maybe you were. The feeling of being feared was great. You liked the way Ms Becky looked at you, you loved the sight of Dr Haynes bloody maybe you were crazy. No you can’t feel that way, you just can’t. If you think like that then that would mean he’s right. You hate proving people right. Anyways you stay in the closet as quiet as possible. you hear multiple footsteps and voices talk, they don’t know you’re here so they talk about the latest drama. Like apparently the new nurse slept with her patient. And they talk about how Much they like Dr. Haynes ' new haircut. You never notice these things solely because you would rather put a gun to your head then stare at him more than what’s necessary. 

    The day was passing by fast, you're surprised you haven’t been found like really surprised. But you were in the janitors closet which means soon you would be found, but you have a plan! As soon as the janitor opens the door you will rush out and towards the front door only because it’s closest. You have no concept of time but you’ve heard a lot less talking you knew it was getting later. You were back to spacing out until you heard the door rattle you perk up and lift your head from your knees and bump your head on a shelf you swear was a few inches taller. You mumble out a quiet curse and the rattling stops. Fuck did he hear you, was he going to call dr Haynes you bite your lip but after an antagonizing moment he goes back to opening the door. And quickly after the door finally opens and you bolt. You know these halls like the back of your hand thanks to your countless escape attempts.

    You push past the janitor. You were surprisingly strong in that moment but you assume it was just the adrenaline. The janitor was shocked he tried to run after you but was slow. It was working though there was basically no one to get in your way, no one. You rush past the patient rooms past the offices and you pass the receptionist desk. You see her face twist to one of horror. you turn your head to her and smirk. you are finally free, you can’t wait to explore the world again, you can’t wait to get a job, pay bills, (this is probably the only time someone was excited to pay bills) and live for yourself. Make your own decisions about your life and for god's sake you're never going to listen to another man again. You turn your head back to the front and see Dr Haynes standing at the door angrily. Now it’s your turn for your face to twist into horror. Why is he here? You try to stop to turn around but the socks you wore stopped friction from even getting a word in. So you tumble into his arm and with that your freedom tumbles too. 

   “Are you done with your little tantrum,” he mocks. You feel your eyes tear up, you were going to cry god damn it you were going to cry in front of your worst enemy. The tears start to fall out of your eyes. To save yourself from some embarrassment you try and cover your eyes. Dr Haynes seemed to take notice of your crying because he gave you a hug, And you hugged him back. You hug your worst enemy and cry your frustrations out, all of it. Your frustration about him, your life, your family for signing you up to this place. You just ugly cry on this man’s white dress shirt. 

   “Shhh it’s ok [name] shh,” he southes . “Shh, let's get you to sleep,” he Pets your head. And for the first time in your life you listen to him, maybe because you were cramped in a room unable to sleep, or the fact you didn’t sleep last night out of fear of him walking in and seeing you in such a vulnerable position, but you sleep. You sleep all of your problems away. But you know when you wake up you have to face them just not right now.

-

You woke up feeling blissful, but for some reason you're still tired you don’t know why. You rub your eyes and yawn. Your eyes are still red from crying and your head hurts. You couldn’t ask for pills to make it better dang you Dr Haynes so you just have to sit in pain. Well it doesn’t have to be boring you concluded, and how do you cure boredom in a hell like this? Write your diary! You push your sleepiness and your rouring headache away and dig under your pillow for it. Odd it’s not there, you furrow your eyebrows. there is no reason it shouldn’t be there, wait , maybe in your sleep you pushed it off the bed. You look at the floor, nothing you check under your bed, still nothing. You were getting freaked out now. Where the fuck is your diary. You pull at your hair you don’t care if you get in trouble this is your only bit of privacy left and it’s gone you chew on your lip.

   “[last name] stop! Do you want me to get Dr Haynes?” Ms Becky called out. Dr Haynes… he did this he took your diary when you where asleep that, that, that, that fucker. You start to kick your feet on the floor, then you start to kick your feet on the wall. This shocked Ms Becky and she rushed in trying to help you in any way she could. This angered you, you don’t know why you're blaming her but she had to sit and watch him take it. You glare and push Ms Becky and she toppled over. You hear her yell out in pain, but this doesn’t stop you. You run out of the room and towards Dr Haynes office to smack some sense into him. 

  You reach his room and it is cracked open. You peek inside to see him typing on his computer. It was now or never, you rushed into the room and Dr Haynes looked up.

   “Oh [name] what a pleasant surprise,” He smiled. This erked you do no end. He was trying to ack all innocent like he didn’t take something so precious from you.

   “ I know you took it,” you say glaring.

   “Took what?” He said.

   “ my diary,” you moved closer.

   “Oh! This old thing,” he pulled my diary out form this desk drawer. 

   “Yes that!” You yell out and rush towards it. Dr Haynes stands up moving the journal out of your reach. 

  “ give it back,” you demand. You see his smirk increase.

  “ I read it, you seem to really hate this place, and me,” he said.

  “Of course I hate this place! I’ve been locked in here for years and everyone thinks I’m crazy. But I’m not, I've never been crazy, I never will be crazy, I’m normal, I’m normal, I’m normal,” you rant. 

  “Wrong,” he stated.

  “ what?” 

  “ I know your not crazy,” he smiled.

  “What,” this time the what was more aggressive and assertive. 

  “I’ve known for years you’re not crazy, I mean who put you in this place?” He said 

  “My parents,” you said weakly. Who did put you here? You always assumed it was your parents since they never visited But now you are not sure. Dr Haynes smiled. 

  “You bastard, what did you do?” you try to claw at his face.

   “ sit down and I will tell you.” You glare but sit slowly.

   “Good,” he smiled. All you want to do is rip his eyes out. 

   “So one day I’m out getting groceries and I see this beautiful person lost, they’re looking around for the evils of this world. So of course I have to help them, and now you’re here.” 

   “So you saw me and decided to kidnap me?” You yell and stand up. 

   “Didn’t kidnap you,” he stated. Just then Ms Becky ran in the room rambling.

   “Dr Haynes, they’re crazy, crazy I tell you! It was like a demon came over them; they were kicking and punching things! They pushed me.” It didn’t Take a genius to tell Ms Becky was talking about me. “You were right about them, they do belong in solitary.” What solitary? You can’t go there, you'll be completely isolated! You looked at Dr Haynes, why would he want to put you there? Ms Becky looked at you mad but ignored you nonetheless. 

  “Do you have the papers that say there’s a threat?” Dr Haynes says.

   “No not yet but I’ll get on it,” Ms Becky replied. As soon as she left you look at Dr Haynes.

   “ why would you want me to be in solitary?” You ask quietly. 

   “To have you all to myself of course,” he smiled. “Besides you are becoming a liability to the hospital, we really need to stop you before you actually hurt somebody.” Were you becoming a threat? Were you becoming a liability? Were you crazy?

[urlocalmultigroupfan]

fallout (pt. 4)

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: you work with skz in chernobyl. everything is fine....until it isn't.

tags/warnings: gruesome and horrific material, explosions, gory kind of? sorry if i missed anything.... still putting it together.

a/n: guysss skz is coming to my city! the tickets sold out in 12 hours tho lmao its in june?? but the resale tickets are CHEAP like 60 dollars lol! gonna see if i will get one

btw im thinking of continuing without you!! im just continue from where i last was....hopefully yall can put the pieces together 😭😭 sorry yall

also sorry this is so short...i feel terrible for getting minho like this 😔

The stale air of the meeting room weighs heavy, thick with tension and the faint metallic tang of burnt metal. You've barely slept since the explosion, the haunting imagery of flames and debris seared into your mind. But there's no time for rest. Not when Minho’s condition worsens with every passing hour.

You sit at the edge of the cot in the medical tent, staring at his pallid face. His breaths come shallow, his lips a faint grayish tint. It’s hard to reconcile this fragile figure with the Minho you know—the sarcastic, sharp-eyed man who always seemed untouchable. The radiation doesn’t care about invincibility.

“His temperature’s still climbing,” Chan murmurs beside you. His voice is hoarse, cracked at the edges from days of barking orders and endless meetings. “The doctors... they don’t know what else to do.”

You glance at him, searching for even a flicker of reassurance, but all you see is the weight of guilt on his shoulders. You hate that he blames himself. None of this is his fault.

Minho stirs, his eyelids fluttering weakly. "You guys..." His voice is barely audible, a shadow of its usual self. "Stop... hovering. It's annoying."

You laugh softly despite the tears burning your eyes. “Shut up, Minho. You’re lucky we’re here.”

His lips twitch into the faintest ghost of a smile before his face contorts in pain. He grips your hand tightly, and you can feel the tremor in his fingers. “Promise me...” His words trail off as another wave of agony overtakes him.

You swallow hard. “What?”

“Promise me you’ll figure out what caused this. Make them pay for it.”

The sheer resolve in his tone makes your chest tighten. “I promise,” you whisper, gripping his hand back just as tightly. “But you’re not going anywhere. We’ll figure this out together.”

Chan steps forward, his jaw set. “I’ll talk to the others. We need to find out how much exposure we all had. If it’s worse than they’re letting on...” His words trail off, but the implication is clear.

“Chan...” Your voice cracks. “Don’t push yourself too hard.”

He turns to you, his eyes meeting yours for a brief, heart-wrenching moment. “I have to. If I don’t, who will?”

Back at the command post, you find Felix poring over blueprints and diagrams of the reactor. He looks up as you enter, his face pale but determined. “There’s something wrong with the data they’re giving us,” he says, pointing to the charts. “The exposure levels they reported—they’re way lower than they should be.”

“How much lower?” you ask, your heart sinking.

“Enough that it looks intentional,” Felix replies grimly. “They’re covering up the severity of the leak.”

Chan exhales sharply through his nose, pacing the room like a caged tiger. “We need to act fast. If they’re lying, there could be more people at risk.”

As the pieces begin to fall into place, you realize the scale of what you’re up against. This isn’t just about an accident—it’s a fight against time, deception, and an invisible enemy that’s already wreaking havoc on the people you care about.

And Minho is running out of time.

[massivedrickhead]

if you still accept prompt request

"I can’t lose you" & "I tried to move on, but I couldn’t" angst with happy ending pls

thankyou

So I already had a sort of half-formed idea for "I can’t lose you", but I couldn't think of a way to incorporate the other prompt, so I just left it out, hope that's okay?

And this may not be a super happy ending, but I think it's hopeful so hopefully that's okay too haha

If you want to send the "I tried to move on, but I couldn’t" prompt then please do, and I'll give it a go if I get any inspiration for it 😊

-

"I can't lose you."

Prompt taken from here

Read on AO3

-

There’s a nagging pain in Beca’s side that wakes her up, and she tries desperately to ignore it. 

She turns over in bed, pushing her face into the pillow, and does her best to return to that blissful sleep she’d been in. She tries to chase her dream, tries to follow and catch up with it before the details fade completely, but it doesn’t work. The dream is gone.

She reluctantly climbs out of bed and stumbles her way to the bathroom. She tries to keep her eyes as closed as possible, and she doesn’t switch on any lights as she goes, hoping to cling to the last remaining threads of sleepiness. 

She uses the bathroom and washes up in the dark, and then the pain in her side twists and burns again. 

She lifts her shirt even though she knows there’s nothing to see. There’s nothing more than a scar that’s barely an inch wide. It shouldn’t still be causing her pain. 

Phantom pain, the doctor called it, but it feels real enough to Beca. 

“Doesn’t that only happen when you lose a limb or something?”

“Other traumatic injuries can cause it too.”

Beca runs a thumb over the slightly raised surface and for now, the pain recedes. 

Despite her best efforts, she’s awake. 

Sleep feels like such a rarity these days. It eludes her constantly, and the more she seeks it, the harder it is to obtain.

Now she’s awake there’s no reason for her to go back to bed, so she heads to her home office and boots up her computer. 

She knows Chloe will be pissed at her, but she doesn’t see the point in tossing and turning for the next several hours before finally getting up. At least this way she can do something productive. 

Unsurprisingly, her inbox is full of emails marked ‘urgent’ from her boss, despite the fact it was almost cleared when she’d logged off only a few hours ago.

The pain is back after only a few minutes of sitting at her desk, so she gets up from her chair and raises the desk to standing height. It gives her a little relief, but not nearly enough.

She closes her eyes and lets out a slow breath.

She tells herself the pain isn’t real, and it seems to worsen in response like it’s trying to prove a point. A little voice in her head tells her there’s only one way to make it go away.

Beca opens her eyes again and shakes her head like she’s trying to dislodge the thought from her brain.

Yes, there’s a way that will, albeit temporarily, get rid of her pain. She’ll be able to sleep. Be able to shift the anxiety that, now she’s awake, has settled in her chest.

There’s an easy solution, one she’s desperate to take, but she won’t. She can’t.

She promised Chloe.

She promised herself.

No more booze. No more Oxy. 

They had almost cost her her relationship. Worse than that, they’d almost cost her her life. 

“What happened?”

“You fucking OD’d, Bec, that’s what happened.”

It had been an accident, but that didn’t make it any better. 

“This is the second time that I thought I was about to watch you die. I won’t… I can’t do this again, Beca. This stops. This stops now or…”

Beca feels a hand on her back, but she doesn’t jump. She’s been expecting it. 

“It’s 3 am,” Chloe says.

“I know,” Beca replies. “I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep.”

“Bad dream?”

“I don’t think so,” Beca says. “I don’t remember.”

“Is it hurting?”

Beca nods, and Chloe wraps her arms around her waist, pressing a kiss against Beca’s back.

“Come back to bed,” Chloe says, her voice still thick with sleep. 

“I won’t be able to sleep,” Beca says. “I’ll end up keeping you awake.”

“So come and keep me awake,” Chloe replies. “I can’t sleep without you anyway.”

Beca sighs but doesn’t make any effort to move from her spot. She knows what Chloe’s doing. She knows she doesn’t trust her yet not to self-medicate. 

Chloe’s thumb brushes over the scar on her side and Beca tenses. Her thumb touches the spot on Beca’s ribs where, almost two years ago, a deranged fan had shoved a knife into her side, right between her ribs, using enough force to puncture her spleen. The pain Beca feels almost constantly is in the spot where that organ used to sit.

It had all happened so fast, yet to her it had felt like an eternity. 

The knife had gone in and out, and the woman who’d attacked her had been wrestled and pinned to the ground before Beca had even realised anything had happened. All she knew was that white hot pain and the feeling that, at any moment, she was going to die. 

It took close to twenty minutes for the ambulance to arrive, and all Beca could do was watch as the balled up shirt pressed against her side got darker and darker. 

Despite the intense summer heat, she remembers feeling cold. She remembers wondering why her body wouldn’t just let her pass out. Why did it insist on keeping her awake to feel this pain and fear? She remembers asking for Chloe, and she remembers Theo’s shaking voice telling her that she was on her way.

She remembers the whole thing. Every agonising minute of lying on the street, wondering if Chloe would make it in time for her to say goodbye. 

She remembers feeling like everything was slowing down around her. She could feel her heart beating in her chest, each pump slower than the last, as she watched the colour drain from the world. 

Holy shit, she had thought. I’m actually going to die.

“Bec.”

Chloe’s voice pulls her from the memories, and the pain in her side pulses. 

“Go back to bed, Chlo’,” Beca says. She takes Chloe’s hand from her side and kisses the back of it before letting it drop. “I’m not going to take anything. Even if I wanted to, I don't have anything anyway.”

“And do you want to?”

“No,” Beca says, a little too quickly. She forces herself to be honest. “Yes. I’m tired and I’m in pain and I just want it to stop. But I won’t. I can’t.”

“I think maybe we should speak to another doctor. Get a second opinion,” Chloe says.

“They’ll just tell me it’s all in my head, or accuse me of lying to get Oxy or something,” Beca says, shaking her head.

“They might not-”

“And what happens if they actually believe me and give me pain meds?”

“You can take them if you need them-”

“No,” Beca snaps, cutting her off again. “I can’t. I needed them before, I wasn’t taking them recreationally.”

“I know that,” Chloe says. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply that you were.”

“I know,” Beca says, softening. “I took them because they made the pain stop, until they didn’t. So I took more, and I combined them with alcohol, because that made the pain stop, until it didn’t. And then I took too much, and…” Beca trails off, because she doesn’t need to tell Chloe what happened next. Chloe had seen it. Chloe had been the one to find her. “Going to a doctor won’t help.”

“Then maybe…. Maybe you don’t see that kind of doctor. If your pain is phantom pain or post-traumatic injury pain, or whatever else he called it, then maybe it’s time to deal with the trauma part. Your injury healed, but you haven’t dealt with the rest.”

“I tried therapy-”

It’s Chloe’s turn to cut Beca off now, and she takes hold of both her hands and holds them tight. “You tried one therapist while you were in rehab. You were supposed to carry on when you got out.”

“It didn’t work.”

“Then try a different one, and give it the time it needs. Beca, I’m fucking terrified that I’m about to lose you,” Chloe says, her voice shaking with the effort of holding back tears. “I’m so scared that one day you’ll wake up and decide that you can’t deal with the pain anymore and-”

She cuts herself off with a sob before she dissolves into tears at the thought of finding Beca like that again. 

“Hey,” Beca says softly, pulling Chloe into her arms. “That won’t happen. I promise.”

“Can you really keep going the way you are? In constant pain? Not sleeping? Hardly eating? How long can you keep this up?”

Chloe feels Beca sigh against her. “I don’t know,” she says. 

“Please, Beca. Please try this. I can’t lose you.”

The pain twists in Beca’s side again. “Okay,” she says. “I’ll try.”

She feels Chloe deflate in her arms, and she hates how much distress she’s caused her ever since the attack. 

“Please come to bed,” Chloe says, ending their hug and wiping her eyes. 

Beca nods and shuts down her computer. 

While she attempts to get comfortable in bed, Chloe disappears off into the kitchen, and returns after a few minutes with a heating pad.

“I know it doesn’t help much,” Chloe says, laying the heating pad on Beca’s side, “but hopefully it helps enough for you to be able to get some sleep.”

“Thank you,” Beca says, sighing at the fraction of relief that the heating pad brought. “And I’m sorry for, you know, everything.”

“It isn’t your fault,” Chloe says. 

“I’m still sorry,” Beca says, closing her eyes as Chloe begins running her fingers through her hair. “I haven’t made this easy on you.”

“There’s no way any of this could have been easy,” Chloe counters. 

“No,” Beca agrees. “But it could have been easier.”

“Maybe,” Chloe replies. “And maybe it could have been harder. In this reality you’re still alive, so I’ll take it, and anything else that comes with it.”

[fan-goddess]

Chapter Two: A change of heart

Catch up on the fic here!

Chapter Summary: All your previous thoughts are thrown out the window as Abrahams prescience looms over you like a sort of ghost. And when you think you’ve sorted yourself out, you get one of the biggest surprises of your life…

Taglist: @valeskafics, @omgbrcat @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @blue-serendipity @anjelicawrites @lexwolfhale @helaenaluvr @scarletbedlam @tumblin-theworldaway

Warnings: F masturbation, talks of arranged marriage, references to erotica books, (if I missed any let me know)

It’s become a strange sort of rhythm now between you and Abraham. He makes sure you know he’s there with a particular knock at the door, four sharp taps to be specific, and when you open the door like you always do, you acknowledge him quickly with a small smile and as little words as possible.

Though now, after the you had visited his home with the pie, he’s been acting different around you. More cocky, more flirty, more annoying. It’s like your fifteen year old selfs mindsets come back to haunt you. When he came to the house on a day he usually did not visit, you remember the blush that was spread on your face when Abraham made sure to compliment your mothers cooking skills, saying he bet yours were just as tasty. If you listened close enough, not that you did of course, you’d dare to think he was making an innuendo.

Yet since as much as you find yourself enjoying the thoughts of him in this new light, his boyish nature and charm certainly puts you off him considerably. Even if his eyes somehow manage to share the same shade of blue as the sky on a clear summers day…

Yet while you thinking one morning with a steadily cooling cup of tea in hand, the familiar four sharp taps knock you from your thoughts as if a sort of siren went off in your head. You take a deep breath before you unlock the door and open it, but it’s with a sort of horror when it suddenly hits you why Abraham had paused and is looking you up and down with a raised brow.

You look down, and realise you hadn’t changed out from your nightclothes into your day clothes. As of right now, you were standing in front of Abraham wearing nothing but an old t-shirt once once belonging to your father, and some worn purple leggings that leaves less to the imagine than you’d like to show the regular people.

You hope he doesn’t notice that last thing, but by the way he hasn’t stopped looking at you with such intensity, you can’t help but think he no doubt already has. Your embarrassment though only worsens when you see Abrahams eyes widen when they seem to skim over your breasts that stick out from your shirt. So with a dark glare, you quickly move to cover yourself with your arms in an attempt to get yourself as much decency as you could get right now. Even though you find yourself strangely thrilled at seeing the usually such stern man so unfocused and possibly even bashful right now.

“Weren’t very successful hunting today. We think the games beginning to pick up on our trails, so we’ll probably try something new next time and hopefully I’ll come back with something more.” He says, his hands awkwardly jerking out to hand you the familiar feeling of twine, where this time only two small rabbits hand by their feet. Their eyes glazed and lifeless as they stare into nothing.

“It’s all right. Can’t blame them for not wanting to be killed and eaten!” You half smile, attempting to joke that to your relief, draws a small chuckle from the almost human looking giant standing in front of you.

“Yeah, I spose so…” He continues to grin, even shaking his head slightly as he still stands in front of you. Though he looks at you suddenly and allows his eyes to take over your body once more, before turning to leave without another words.

You can’t help but feel like the rabbit hanging in your hand at that moment. Staring lifelessly into the distance with your mouth wide open as you think of how Abraham has left you alone in your doorway, with your heart beating faster than usual in your chest.

Your feelings though only seem to become even more conflicted over the next few days as somehow someway, your friends have managed to learn about yours and Abrahams recent involvement with each other. So you bet they take this information and seize it with tight hands, like a shark tasting first blood in the water.

“Oh I bet he’s so handsome up close! God those eyes!” One of them groans with her eyes shut dramatically, whilst the rest of you giggle at her girlish rambles.

“Careful Beth! It almost sounds like you’re in love with him!” Another shouts as you all now roar in laughter at the comical absurdity of it all. Even if you find yourself laughing not as much as the others who all hold their bellies with tears practically running down their faces.

“Seriously though, tell us! What’s he like? Is he really that closed off from everyone? Cause I won’t lie, the whole closed off mysterious bad boy thing works for him!”

“He’s…. definitely something alright….” You say, your mouth turning in a straight line as you’re unable to say how you really feel about it all, even if it all causes such churning in somehow both your stomach and your head. Much to your relief though, one of the girls you’re more closer with than the rest seems to catch on to your unwillingness, and thankfully manages to drag the conversation to some other more ridiculous topic the girls hurl themselves head first in.

The next few hours are filled with so many words filled with so many meaningless things. Some of you talk about clothing and what they’ll wear to random future events, and others whisper with a smirk about the latest gossip on those in town up the road. It wasn’t exactly easy to gossip about a small community you lived with, so you all whenever you could took part in listening with open ears. Usually you’d have joined in by now, laughing and gasping not so respectfully as some girl tells all about how the priests wife is most definitely having an affair with the butcher. Only now, you can’t find yourself able to focus.

Stupid Abraham manages to effortlessly consume your body hourly. It’s so stupid, and dare you even say it, really fucking cliche. A seemingly loveless girl reconnecting with someone from her past, whose suddenly turned super hot, and she finds him so attractive she can’t think of anything else? That’s so you that you want to bang your head against the nearest surface you can find.

The worst part is, is that when you’ve gone home and are laying in bed trying to figure it all out, all you can do is somehow manage to find even more reasons as to why he’s so attractive to you. The complete opposite of what you wanted...

Yet somehow, when you thought about his physical traits in particular, your body turned hot and your brain went to utter ruin.

You think about his arms, and how you want Abraham to use them to lift you into his arms and never let you go. The fact they’re littered with a whole variety of scars and tattoos as well doing nothing but make the heat inside your belly rage like a tornado.

You start to think about his naked chest, and It gets so bad that you find yourself trailing one of your hands under your underwear to your pussy, that with a shuddered breath you realise is practically leaking with arousal down your thighs.

Yet it’s worst of all when you recall his voice, and how he uttered that one specific nickname only he ever calls you, in that specific voice of his. Pretty girl.

It’s like your a teenage girl exploring your body all over again, you can’t help but think. Especially as you begin circling your clit with the tip of your fingers.

Soon though, you find yourself muffling your pleasure filled gasps into your pillow as you continue stroking your soaked folds. Your eyes tightly shutting and your breaths becoming laboured as you imagine what could happen if Abraham was in the room with you, making use of your willing body for his own selfish lustful needs.

You knew how sex was done in theory. Yet still, of course you had never actually seen what a penis looked like in real life. The closest experience being from when you’d snuck out through your window and read the naughty books displayed on the back shelf in the villages library. They had no pictures to help imagine the scene you were reading, but the words they used seemed helpful enough, though admittedly sometimes very confusing in how they were written.

According to the books, the man’s cock was supposed to be hard as it entered you. He was supposed to allow you to get used to his size (that part confused you greatly you must admit), as apparently most of the women in those books needed it, before thrusting his cock deeply inside of you in a rhythmic sort of pattern before he came deep inside her.

You think of Abraham doing this sort of thing with you as you continue to touch your aching pussy with your fingers, and you cannot deny it doesn’t get you somehow even more aroused than what you already were before.

You think of his rough hands covering the length of your mouth in an attempt to silence you, lest the both of you be caught. In your depravity, you imagine that he whispers naughty words in your ear like the men in the books do, and you feel yourself tighten around nothing and peak hard on your fingers. The warm liquid of your essence dripping down your thighs onto your bed from how intensely you came just now.

“What is that fucking man doing to me….” You murmur, closing your eyes and praying you won’t dream of the bastard whose consumed you.

To your relief, your sleep was so deep that night that you find yourself practically incapable of dreaming of anything. It’s so deep in fact that the only reason you wake that morning is because the light coming from your window shines so brightly that it blinds your eyes even when you haven’t opened them yet.

You lay on your bed disoriented, yet your head is still ditzy when you hear a familiar knock ring through your house. A knock you know all too well. Whilst you try to blink to steady yourself, with a groan and an uncomfortable feeling of confusion bubbling within your belly, you dress only to cover yourself of indecency by grabbing a lone long sleeved cardigan hung randomly in your wardrobe.

What’s Abraham doing here so early on a non-delivery day? You think as you open move to open your bedroom door and peak out. All you can see though is your mother and father covering doorway of the front door with their bodies, conversing in such short and quiet murmurs you can barely make out the words.

“What’s going on?” You ask, walking closer to peer around them to see if it really was Abraham they were conversing with, and why it exactly was they were doing so.

Your mother and father say nothing, only looking at each other for a quick second before parting to allow you past. Allowing you to see Abraham standing before you, where like most times, you see him carrying a rope in his hand. Only this time, it doesn’t contain anything like rabbits or pheasants. This time, it’s attached to the muzzle of a giant, beautiful, chestnut coloured horse.

You’re face is no doubt showing your confusion by now as you continue to wordlessly stare at it. Only you’re so focused on the horse, you almost miss Abraham clearing his throat slightly, before stating something that would both shock you to your core and change your entire future together forever.

“I’m here to offer this horse to your parents, so they’ll allow me to ask you to marry me.”