#i just. couldn't stop when my brain started rotating around the idea
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hythlodaes · 11 months ago
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until we get it right emile/estinien - 1.9k words cw for references to past violence
wild west au heavily inspired by this gpose by @coldshrugs <3 estinien becomes something of an outlaw in seeking his personal vengeance, and emile is sent to stop him but ends up joining him at the promise of earning his own. title + fragments come from wishbone by richard siken!
 let’s just get going, let’s just get gone...
They make camp for the night.
Or rather, Estinien makes camp for the night while Emile stands far too still in the distance. Estinien stares at the line of his back through the softening smoke. They’ve hardly spoken a word since they skipped town—what was supposed to be a quick stop for supplies ended in nearly getting caught, and more violence than either of them intended. They’re a safe distance away, enough that Estinien felt comfortable building a fire and setting out their bedrolls, gathering the food rations they have left, and all the while Emile has stood by the creek, unmoving. 
He said he was just going to wash up. 
Estinien’s jaw aches from clenching it this whole time. The answers to his questions feel too far out of reach—they’ve been through too much to know what’s wrong without asking. Estinien told him there would be bloodshed from the beginning, and it was a warning and a promise all the same. It’s the reason why Emile joined up with him at all.
Come on, he thinks to himself. Just move. 
But nothing changes as the fire cracks to life, the only sound besides the wind chasing through this empty space. 
It’s just them, and sometimes Estinien wishes it wasn’t. 
“Emile!” he calls, gritting his teeth at the harsh sound of his voice cutting through the evening. Emile still doesn’t move, doesn’t turn his head, and Estinien swears under his breath before he gets up. He repeats his name as he draws closer, the sound of his boots crunching over the dirt. Emile’s hands are clenched at his sides, but as Estinien finally reaches him, he can see the way they shake. 
“You over here sulking, or what?” Estinien asks, refusing to let his heart soften at the way Emile stares into the water, his face marked red with blood, his sleeve soaked with it from where the bullet grazed his arm. He finally looks over at Estinien, his eyes dark, his mouth pulled into a tight line, and it takes a long moment for Estinien to realize that he’s angry. 
“Why did you do that?” Emile asks, and his usually soft voice turns sharp. He doesn’t need to clarify—Estinien can still see the gun pointed at Emile, can still recall the way he didn’t hesitate to raise his own to protect him. It was just one quick pull of the trigger...  
“Because you’d be dead if I didn’t,” he answers, glancing at Emile’s injured arm. A few inches over and that would’ve gone through his heart. Emile’s brows pinch together before he looks away. 
“I could’ve taken him.”
“You could’ve had a hole in your chest,” Estinien bites out. “Then where would I be?” 
You. He’d meant to say you. 
Luckily, Emile is too upset to notice. “His blood should’ve been on my hands, Estinien” 
“You don’t owe me, if that’s what you’re wonderin’.”
“It isn’t about that,” he returns. “I...”
Estinien waits, but Emile doesn’t finish his thought. They stand side by side at the edge of the creek, and the setting sun ignites the shallow water in shades of pink and orange. Estinien kicks a rock into the stream. “Is this still about your honor?” 
“No,” he answers, and the anger leaves his voice entirely. “Just forget it.” 
Finally, he moves. He turns back towards camp, taking off his hat as he shakes his hair out. He looks golden in this light, like something that was made to reflect the sun, and this time Estinien is the one frozen where he stands, trying to understand what he meant. 
He pulls his bandana free from his neck and wrings it out in the water a few times before he follows him back to their camp. He means to hand it to him but falters as he approaches him sitting by the fire, frowning at the flames. He looks up at Estinien with a question in his eye that only grows as Estinien crouches before him. 
“You’ve got...” Estinien trails off. Emile glances between him and the bandana in his hand, eyes cautious, but he nods. Estinien lifts it to wipe at the dried blood on his cheek, keeping his touch as gentle as he can. He can feel Emile’s gaze still on him, but he focuses instead on his tanned skin, on the freckles that multiply daily as they travel by the relentless sun. He can feel Emile’s breath against the side of his hand—the way it comes shallow, the way he holds it as Estinien brushes the corner of his mouth. 
There’s an ache in Estinien’s chest that never goes away. 
“Take off your shirt,” he says as he pulls back, ignoring how his hand trembles the slightest at the thought of taking it off himself. “You can borrow my other one until we have the time to mend it.”
Emile shakes his head. “It’ll do for some time yet. It just needs a wash.” 
Still, he undoes the buttons and Estinien looks away, retreating to grab his makeshift medicine bag from the saddle. It’s no more than a few tinctures and a bandage, but that’s all he needs. When he returns, he stops short at the sight of Emile by the fire’s glow. The flames lick at his naked skin, orange light ghosting over his exposed muscles as he pushes his hair to his uninjured side. 
The wound, Estinien reminds himself. 
It’s uglier up close, grazing his bicep, angry and raw. It’s stopped bleeding but it’s still completely open, and Estinien takes a breath before he touches his elbow, pulling his arm closer. There’s a chill that’s settled in with the night, but Emile’s skin is warm against his hands, making him want to draw even closer. Emile merely keeps his gaze locked on the fire in front of him as Estinien begins to wrap the bandage around his arm. 
“My Ma taught me how to do this,” Estinien murmurs, just to fill the silence between them. “I was always bleedin’ from one injury or another—I think she knew it would save my ass someday.” 
It gets Emile to look at him, his eyes still so dark. He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, but then, quietly, “Do you miss her?”
Estinien swallows hard. “Every day.” 
He thinks Emile’s the only person that knows this side of him. He’s the only person he’d let see this side of him. They’re in this together, and sometimes that feels like a vow of its own. They’re married to their vengeance, and they will see it through or they will die—they would rather walk through hell than leave the crimes against them unanswered.  
It’s something only they can understand now, and as much as they rile against each other, it binds them together. 
It leaves room for confessions like this:
“I don’t know how I can go home after this,” Emile chokes out as his breath hitches. “I don’t know how I can face my mother.”
Estinien doesn’t let his hands pause. He finishes wrapping the bandage around his arm, each motion smooth and methodical, something reassuring where words can’t be. There’s nothing he could possibly say—they aren’t good men, and they’ve walked too far down this path to turn back now. 
“Is that what you want?” he asks. “To go home?” 
Emile shakes his head. “No, I… I need to do this, but I won’t be able to forgive myself for it.”
Estinien ties off the bandage but finds that he can’t let go of him yet. He smooths his thumb across the skin beneath it, and his next words come hushed: “Can you forgive me?” 
“You don’t spare me any guilt by killin’ for me.” 
“I’m not trying to,” he murmurs. “I’m just keeping you alive.”
“Why?” 
The sky grows darker, and with it the fire glows brighter. It highlights the pain in Emile’s eyes, and Estinien thinks he could do anything for him—he could protect him, he could avenge his father, he could bandage any wound, but there’s nothing he could do to take that hurt away. 
He thinks he’d still like to try. 
“Because you hum when we’re on the trail—for hours at a time. It must be every song you ever heard, because each time I look back, I think, he’s bound to stop after this one, and then you keep humming. It annoys the hell out of me,” Estinien says, and he finds his smile threatens to crack at Emile’s soft laugh. He takes a breath, sobering as he feels the full weight of it in his chest. “It would be awfully quiet without you, Emile.” 
Emile stares at him for a moment before he turns away, scrubbing his free hand over his face, and his voice is muffled and shaky when he says, “I can stop humming, if it annoys you.” 
“No,” he says, and he laughs despite the way it aches. “We’ll keep going, okay? Just as we are.” 
“Just as we are,” Emile repeats. He looks back at Estinien, eyes a little watery but he nods. He pulls his arm away from where Estinien still holds it, and then he gets up, digging through their bag for the spare shirt they have. He throws it on while Estinien throws another piece of wood on the fire, and it seems that they agree on letting the conversation go. 
He doesn’t say anything when Emile lays on his bedroll after—doesn’t say that it’s too early to sleep, that they haven’t eaten yet, that he feels like all his emotions have spilled out everywhere to be seen. He stays up, staring into the fire as the stars begin to turn in the sky, and he listens for any danger in the distance. It’s just them. 
It’s just them, and most of the time Estinien is grateful for that. 
He doesn’t remember when they started placing their bedrolls next to each other, but it’s become part of their routine. It makes it easier to share body heat when the night grows cold, but neither of them say anything when they curl up together regardless of the temperature. Estinien tosses one more piece of wood on the fire before laying beside Emile. He listens to the sound of his breathing, judging if it’s heavy and even enough to mean he’s asleep, before he inches closer to press his back along his. 
Like this, they guard each other through the night. 
In the morning, they can pretend that this didn’t happen. In the morning they can wash the blood clean from Emile’s shirt and stitch up the hole in the sleeve. They have a lead on their next destination, and they’ll pack up their horses and take to the road, where Estinien will count the minutes since the last time he looked over his shoulder at Emile. He’ll memorize the slight smile that pulls at Emile’s lips under the shadow of his hat, and he’ll ignore the warmth in his chest, the weight of his gun at his hip, and all that he would do to keep him safe. 
And maybe, one of these days, they’ll find what they’re looking for. 
Do you know how it ends? Do you feel lucky? Do you want to go home now?
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bornagainmurdock · 3 months ago
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manic delusions & a gentle boyfriend
author's note: i, in a mania induced haze, created a playlist about how much i want to fight matt the other day, so inspired by my need to calm tf down, i offer you this. as always, not all mania looks the same or is the same.
contents: fluff but the angsty kind a little bit, matt murdock x reader, gender neutral reader, reader experiences mania, undisclosed mental illness, basically how matt helps with a manic episode
word count: 1.4k
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While Matt had never necessarily experienced mania himself, when you explained how it worked for you to him and how to tell you were about to have an episode. The signs were never the same, but the motivations were. You'd done the thousands of dollar shopping sprees, the impromptu trips around the country via your ratty old car, the detailed documents abotu elaborate plans you couldn't comprehend when the episode lasted. If fact, Matt had been present for most of them, not stopping you, because then the urge would continue, but helping you ride through them safely.
Today Matt caught you in the middle of a shopping spree on your laptop at hte dining room for craft supplies. They were on sale, what were you expected to do.
"Can we step away from that for a minute?" Matt was kind with his words knowing that any aggressive push would send you sprialing any further.
"In a minute. I'm busy." Your eyes were glued to the screen, scrolling endlessly through the site's inventory.
"I see that. I'm just worried about you." He sighed, sitting at the opposite side of the table.
"I'm not manic—"
"I trust you. I just want you to take a break from the screens for an hour or so, your eyes need the break." He was gentle still, sure to not cross any emotional or physical boundaries.
"Yah I think you're right. I think I might go on a run along the Hudson river." You sprang to your feet, bouncy as ever.
"It's always great to move your body, but I think maybe we should sit down for a bit together. We haven't talked much today." He knew if you left the house you'd come back overexerted, damaging your joints in the process.
"Okay?" You said, walking to sit on the floor in the open space of the apartment.
"What's going through your head?" He joined you on the floor, still at a distance to allow you to breathe.
He had realized maybe a day ago that you were having an episode and unable to realize it, too deep in it to see the light. This confrontation, if you could call it that, could make it worse, or, hopefully, give you a chance to reflect on your behavior and practice some coping mechanisms to come back down to earth.
"You think I'm manic." You said blunty, like a knife in Matt's chest.
"I do." He rotated his hands in his lap, face pointed down towards the floor. "And, I'm worried about you."
"I'm not manic."
Matt knew this was going to be hard, but he was hopeful.
"Okay, I trust you. You can go back to what you're doing. I just wanted to check in." He started to stand before he was interrupted by your thoughts.
"Okay, well maybe I am. But I don't think it's a bad thing. I've gotten so much done. I've deep cleaned the whole apartment. I'm all caught up on work for the next two weeks. I'm gonna learn how to cross stitch." You took a deep breath and exhaled slowly trying to think through each of those sentences before Matt could. "Okay, so I'm manic. How do I fix it?" You pouted with the last sentence.
"Nothing to fix. Your brain is just having a time right now, and we're gonna work through it together." He smiled, scooting closer to intertwine a hand with yours. "How about we risk assess, hmm?"
"I think that's a good idea."
"Okay first one, cleaning. What do you think about that activity?" He was still, but open, hoping this dialogue would help until the brain chemicals subsided.
"Cleaning is helpful for the house, and for us, but I probably didn't pay as much attention as I would have liked during the tasks. I probably overworked my body in the process. I think this time it's a net positive as we haven't cleaned much since last season."
"That's a good analysis. How about the second one now." Matt said. He had read some of the books your therapist had recommended to you, and was very attentive when you explained how your brain worked, hoping the break down of tasks would help you realize the bigger picture.
"Getting my work done is good, but getting the next two weeks done is too much. I won't have anything to do for two weeks now. Net negative." You slouched into Matt's touch, leaning against his arm and resting there.
"Okay, and three?"
"I don't know how to cross stitch and I haven't watched or read any tutorials. I think I'm interested in it, but I should be thoughtful about buying materials in case I don't stick with it. Net neutral."
"Good job. Is there anything else you'd like to break down and think about with another brain here with you?" Matt was now rubbing your arm that was closest to him, trying to ground you with touch.
"Can I think and get back to you?"
"Of course you can. Thank you." He untangled himself from you and stood, helping you up in the process and leading you back to your computer. "Why don't you buy a small beginner kit and you can tell me all about it."
"Okay."
"And here's my card." Matt pulled his wallet from his back pocket and passed a card to you. He knew you were less inclined to spend him money than your own because of guilt.
"Thank you Matt."
"You're welcome baby. I'm gonna go sit on the couch and you join me when you're ready to give a lecture on cross stitch."
----
Later that night, after the lecture and a series of snacks Matt was willing to consider dinner, you both sat on the couch needing to get ready for bed.
"You're not tired, are you?" He said, turning to face you.
"No. Dumb brain chemicals." You pouted again, showing it with the tone of your voice.
"Why don't I help you draw a bath, and you can pick out a bath bomb or some bath salts and I can sit with you while you relax?"
"I'd like that."
"Then, let's go!" Matt jumped up from the couch with a smile, once again reaching out to lead you there.
Once inside, Matt passed you the bin with all the fancy bath and shower supplies for you to sort through.
"I'm thinking pomegranate bath bomb and some CBD bath soak. The one with glitter." You pulled them out and set them on the counter.
"Sounds good to me." Matt said.
He turned on the faucets, trying to find the perfect blend of hot and cold that would be comfortable but not too overwhelming. You were bad at telling temperatures when manic, often making soup of yourself in the bath.
You started to strip, walking around in circles to ease the excitement of a fancy bath. Your clothes in a pile on the floor, you warn Matt before he about trips over them.
"What color towel?"
"Red please!" You shout back.
"Alright." He sets the towel over the hooks next to the bath and strips himself of most of his clothes, helping you into the tub before sitting down next to it. He turns off the faucets and the silence dances around the room.
"Matt, can you play with my hair?"
"Of course I can. Do you just want me to talk and try to get you back on the ground?" His closer hand moved to your hair, brushing over it with a bit of pressure to remind you of his presence.
The bath was warm but not too hot. The temperature eventually caught up to you, beads of sweat forming on your forehead.
The bath bomb was almost done fizzing, bouncing between your legs dying the water a vibrant red.
"I wish you could see the color of this bath bomb, kinda looks like the DD suit." You splashed it for a second, enjoying the novelty of it.
"Story time?" He laughed.
"Story time!"
"Okay so yesterday at work, Foggy and Karen both decided to pull a prank on me," Matt went further into detail than he had to, attempting to help you picture it in your own head, "The coffee machine, you know the one on the counter in the office that almost never gets clean. Well, they took the coffee filter out of it, so when I went to make coffee, hot beans. poured out. Like coarse ground coffee beans, right into my favorite mug, the one you got me—"
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raccoonfallsharder · 5 months ago
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eidos-rocket headcanons
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nonnie asked: Do you have any head canons for Eidos Rocket with an S/O?
sweet chickadee, do i ever. sfw & nsfw headcanons for eidos-rocket behind the cut. my headcanons are too long tho so thursday i will post the lil minific that i wrote you. gn reader & it's just a tiny bit spicy (i'll link it here once it's posted). i hope you enjoy! ♡♡
here it is: ᯓ⋆。°✩practice (an eidos-rocket minific) ✩
also please bear with me if there are any major inconsistencies with game canon. unlike the movies, i couldn't really rewatch a million times, nor is it quite as easy to do research to fill in the gaps as it is with the movies.
initial ask | the beard | rocket smells like oneshot masterlist | headcanons & imagines masterlist | main masterlist
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sfw headcanons
eidos-rocket dates a LOT. he's a big fan of the idea that two (or more) people can enjoy themselves and each other without any strings attached. unfortunately for you (and himself), the only people he's ever felt (or allowed himself to feel) committed to were lylla and tella, and to be honest, he's got a lot of hang-ups about both of 'em. one sacrificed herself so he could be free of the kree and he still feels like he owes her; the other stole the ship he hacked for her and left him to the wolves. if he's had any scrap of personal affection or optimism for biologicals left after rak-mar, it had evaporated then, and had only been resurrected by (and exclusively for) groot.
nevertheless, he'll get along with you as well as he could be expected to get along with any new person in his life. maybe you're a newbie on the guardians team, or maybe you're a stranger he picks up at a contraxian bar. hell, maybe you're a dancer at that place he likes so much on knowhere. he'll put up with you the same way he puts up with mantis: a little baffled at what he perceives as your weirdness, and surprisingly receptive to whatever endearments you accidentally levy against him. but whether your presence in his life begins with a sexual proposition, a date, or a job on the milano, once he starts developing more intense feelings for you, he'll shut down. even having a crush will feel like a betrayal of the otter who gave her life for him to escape the kree - plus he’s not really looking to get betrayed again. he'll spend way too much time hating himself, distrusting you, and trying to push you away - usually by blaming you for petty slights that he knows he's either made up or exaggerated. (better to get pissed at you for some stupid minor insult or misunderstanding than get betrayed later.) of course, every time he’s a dick, he'll feel like scut about it. he'll have a powerful urge to grovel, but he’ll ignore it - at least till he finally believes that he's safe to feel something for someone again. luckily for him, he's got you to help him get there.
remember how protective eidos-rocket is of groot? now that he trusts you and realizes how much he wants you in his life, he's starting to feel the same way toward you. well, not exactly the same way, obviously - but though it's taken him a while to come around on it, he now realizes you're just as sweet as his big best friend, and just as in-need of someone to look out for you and make sure you're not taken advantage of by all the scut n' chogs out here. you think it's just impatience at first - when he starts towing you around knowhere with your wrist clamped in his hand - but it's more about wanting to make sure he can keep track of you, and plant himself safely in front of you if any weirdos show up.
like his counterparts, eidos-rocket doesn't sleep much. if he stops thinking for long enough to rest, his mind immediately rotates wartime memories and flashbacks from the kree labs. he'll spiral out, thinking of the brain-numbingly repetitive tasks he'd been forced to do, growing more and more panicked rather than actually resting. plus, something about sleep makes his subconscious call up memories of the sensory deprivation tanks. sure, they weren't as painful or agonizing as his other memories of conditioning, torture, experimentation, and battle, but they're what he most often has nightmares of: being nothing, floating in nothing. the epitome of alone-ness. which is why he's such a sap for being touched. the first time you'd reached out instinctively to ruffle the too-soft-looking fur at the base of his thickly-velveted ears, he'd swatted at you with both hands like you were a goddamn bug. flarkin' infantilizing, he'd growled. but at some point, you'd done it again (on accidental impulse, of course; all things considered, you're probably the least invasive person he knows, so he should really cut you some slack). it had still given him a bit of panic, but no-one had been around, so he'd settled for glaring at you. fortunately for you both, it hadn't been too long before he'd admitted to himselfthat he wants you to touch him all the time.
now that eidos-rocket trusts you enough, he’s particularly partial to you grooming him. the feel of your fingers stroking through the ruff along his cheeks, running through the surprisingly-silky texture of his little beard? he loves when you braid it for him. it feels so good that he can’t help but close his eyes and tilt up his face, like a cat getting chin-scratches. if he’s in a good mood, he’ll even let you pick the beads. that’s a gesture of true intimacy, by the way. you think he’d trust just anyone to honor his aesthetic?
since we're talking about his goatee and his aesthetic, let's admit that eidos-rocket is by far the most vain of all his current incarnations. the manicured neatness of that little beard and its embellishments? the obscene fluffiness of his tail? this guy uses a high-quality oil to keep his fur and skin in good condition. it started when he stole some fancy beard-oil from some spartoi jerk for scut n' giggles, but then he'd learned the luxury was actually pretty nice. he'd eventually found a knowhere vendor he can buy some good stuff from, and for pretty cheap. he gets it custom-made, and it's mostly scentless, with undertones of something like black pepper and cedar.
speaking of fur: bury your nose in eidos-rocket's fluffy neck-scruff and you'll find that in addition to the faint cedar-and-pepper scent, he smells like iron, engine fuel, and something reminiscent of gunpowder. and maybe some kind of booze he probably didn't pay for at mantlo's - like a spicy, caramelly kind of rum. plus, he for sure smokes, so he probably smells at least a little like burnt everbloom, which gives him an additional sort of smoky, gingery scent.
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nsfw headcanons
let me be real clear that rocket in almost all universes and timelines will fuck (barring certain kinds of trauma i'm not into adding to his life-story). mcu-rocket knows better than anyone that bodies aren't a good indicator of a person's worth. comics-rocket is canonically attracted to people of all shapes and sizes and numbers of tentacles or whatever. similarly, eidos-rocket seems way more interested in whether or not a particular partner or partners are going to make him feel good (and his own ability to make them feel good) than whether or not they have a certain kind of genitalia, how many limbs they've got, or their percentage of body-fat. (again, physical sensation is a whole thing for him thanks to the history of sensory deprivation…)
relatedly & since we mentioned how much eidos-rocket struggles with the memories of the deprivation tanks, it’s worth noting how much he craves your touch as a result. the truth is that having you wrapped around him for the whole sleep-cycle makes it a lot harder for his subconscious to convince him that he's still stuck in sensory-deprivation. even if he does start to drift into one of those dreams, it takes less than a second on waking to remember that he can still feel, and what he feels is you, all around him. maybe he'll press his ear to your chest: even though he can already hear your heartbeat without trying, he wants it so loud that he can taste it. sometimes, that's enough. other times, he'll wake you by pulling you fully on top of himself, needing the heat and weight of you, feeling your pulse against his mouth. if he's a certain kind of desperate, you'll wake up with his tongue or his dick inside you - as long as you've said you're okay with it, of course. i don't think eidos-rocket considers himself into somno, per se - this is far more about an urgent need for the comfort of feeling you more than kink, necessarily.
but since we're talking about kink, let it be known that eidos-rocket is the most openly-filthy rocket. he's got no problem acting out in public, touching you, trying to embarrass you. ugh, i hate gettin' wet; wet fur is the krutackin' worst, he'll say loudly in front of the whole fam. then, without skipping a beat, his eyes will dart at you mischievously. well, maybe there're some exceptions...
there's also something of an exhibitionist in eidos-rocket, as long as he's the one pulling the strings. getting you aroused in public is a fun game and it makes him smug as hell, and he doesn't generally think about being self-conscious about sex after having spent so much time on knowhere and contraxia. but on the rare occasion that you turn the tables, and he gets flustered - self-conscious, flattered, turned-on, needy - he can't hide it anywhere near as well as the other rockets. mcu-rocket might scuff his feet, scrub at the back of his neck, and look away; comics-rocket barely reveals anything beyond a brief widening of his eyes and a flicker of tail and ears (unless he's a skottie young rocket, in which case, he has no shame whatsoever) but eidos-rocket will be trying (and failing) to hide his blush so obviously that the poor guy might as well not even have any fur. i mean, hell, did you notice the scene where quill was like, "you deserve a little praise"? poor guy was curled in on himself, hiding his face, suddenly couldn't have mouthed-off to save his life. speaking of praise...
eidos-rocket generally likes to be in charge in the bedroom, like all rockets - but if you want to see his mouth snap shut, his eyes get wide, and watch him unravel into something close to subby, all you have to do is offer up some sincere, specific compliment. yeah, i headcanon all rockets as having something of a praise-kink, but how that looks can vary wildly across the multiverse. for this guy? well, let's just say that if you play your cards right and tell him just how good and deserving he is, eidos-rocket will be salivating to give you whatever you krutackin' want.
other kinks? eidos-rocket will try almost anything twice, as long as he feels safe (admittedly, that's a high bar, though you've managed to surpass it in multiple ways). but we know he's mentioned how much he enjoys "the place with the dancers." you may or may not have easy access to a pole - but offer him a chair dance, and those clever hands of his will be clutching and flexing, eyes unblinking while they drink you up. clumsy? he doesn’t care. the very idea of you dancing for him turns him on as much as actually watching your beautiful body undulate, revealing a bit more of yourself to him with every breath. let it turn into a lapdance and he'll think this is a newer and more dangerous version of the Promise — and even if it is, he ain’t tryin’ to leave. he'll fight himself to keep his hands off of you, not wanting it to end even a half-second early. eventually, it'll become a competition between the two of you: him trying to keep you writhing on him for as long as possible, and you trying to get him to break and fuck you. by the time he finally cracks, you might regret riling him up so damn much.
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headcanons & imagines masterlist | main masterlist banners & dividers by @/thecutestgrotto & @/saradika-graphics
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naavispider · 2 years ago
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Just had a super angsty idea I thought you'd like! 
Imagine if while Jake and Quaritch fought on the Sea Dragon, Spider runs after them in the chaos of the ship slowly sinking. On the verge of breaking down, he picks up a gun from a dead soldier and holds them both at gunpoint, trying desperately to stop their fight to the death...

Love all your work! You're my fav!
Read on AO3
The screeching of the metal structure starting to collapse under them filled Spider's ears as he doubled over, trying to steady his footing on the wet concrete. Shouts and flames were everywhere. He was vaguely aware of Tuk and Kiri being corralled away by Neytiri, but his eyes were on Jake and Quaritch.
The glint of their blades was brighter somehow than even the most ferocious fire to his right, and he cried out as Quaritch lunged for Jake, barely missing his chest with his knife. They were in this for the kill... neither were going to stop under the other was dead.
He was going to lose one of them.
At the realisation, panic overtook Spider faster than the rising tide and he scrambled up the rotating deck of the ship to try, somehow to get closer. "Stop!" he screamed out, but it was completely drowned out by the waves and the roaring flames, and the clunking of objects falling all around them. He fell once more as the ship jerked, and the painful scrape of the metal bolts under his feet spurred him on to reach the fight. He couldn't lose Jake.
And he couldn't lose Quaritch.
Jake had managed to get hold of a chain, and Spider's heart thundered in his chest as he watched while Quaritch ducked to avoid being struck. The hatred in Jake's eyes was like venom to Spider's heart. The fight was savage, brutal. It terrified him.
"Please!" He called out again, climbing over a sideways stairwell and grasping the handrail for grip as water poured down from the deck above them.
Neither Na'vi hesitated, or even slowed, giving no sign that they had heard him at all. They were going to kill each other, and it would be his fault. Just then something heavy and large slid into his ankle, making him grasp tighter for balance. Looking down, he realised with a wave of nausea that it was a dead RDA soldier. They were floating face down in the calf-deep water. He gasped out loud, which turned into a moan when he realised the man had become wedged between him and the rail. He was going to have to kick the corpse away.
Bile swelled sickeningly in his throat as he kicked his trapped foot out of the wedge, but it disappeared with a thrill of adrenaline when he realised the man's pistol was still attached to his belt. He didn't even think about it, he just bent down and grabbed the weapon with both hands, praying the ship wouldn't tilt any further while he detached the gun from its holster. He held it up as if seeing a gun for the first time in his life. Despite being raised around them, and kept under guard by at least one of them for months, it was like an alien machine in his hands.
His awe lasted only a few seconds, and his brain switched into gear when he found the safety catch, flipping it off. He didn't have time to check if it was loaded, but he didn't to. He cried out again as the ship lurched beneath them, sending him sideways into the wall. He looked around desperately for Jake and Quaritch, who were still fighting only 60 feet away. All he needed to do was get close enough for them to hear him.
He leaped into action, scrambling over fallen obstacles and ripped pieces of metal. He swore as a flaming piece of a gunship came careening towards him, but he dodged it and ran as fast as he could across the deck to get to the two most important men in his life.
He was there... he could run over and insert himself into the fight... they were right in front of him...
"STOP!" he screamed, raising the gun in both hands.
Jake noticed first, his eyes widening for a fraction of a second in shock before Quaritch's fist connected into his face with a disgusting crunch.
"I SAID STOP!" Spider yelled again, this time commanding Quaritch's attention while Jake was down. The recom turned to him, and immediately Spider readjusted his aim so that the barrel was pointing directly at Quaritch.
For a second that held an eternity, no one spoke. For all the noise of the sinking ship, it suddenly fell silent. All Spider could hear was his own heavy pants inside his mask, and the hiss of the exopack on his back.
"Spider-" Quaritch's shocked face was quickly trying to compose itself into one of authority.
"DON'T!" Spider shouted. "Don't move!"
Shit, what was he doing, he couldn't actually shoot Quaritch?
"Spider, son..."
Spider closed his eyes tightly against the endearment. He didn't want to hear it.
"Put the gun down..."
Spider shook his head. "Stop fucking talking!"
"Spider..." Jake's voice spoke up now, edged with anticipation. Spider had almost forgotten about him. "Do it."
He didn't know what came over him. He turned his arms so the gun was pointing at his best friend's dad.
"Woah!" Jake stumbled, confused and frustrated. "Spider, it's me, it's Jake!"
What was he doing? Spider grit his teeth and hissed into his visor. His face scrunched up in despair, fear and anxiety throwing his mind into disarray. He couldn't think straight. They'd hurt him. Both of them. He hated them.
But... he loved them. He didn't want them to die. He felt a tear slip down the side of his face.
"Spider, put the gun down..." that was Quaritch. His voice was more familiar, more calming, and Spider wanted to go to it, despite everything. Fire blazed close by, the heat of it making Spider's skin glow.
"No! Just... stop. You can't kill each other. I won't let you!"
"Spider!" Spider had never seen Jake's face so... conflicted. His ears were pressed back against his skull and the agony of Spider's decision was written plainly across every feature of his face.
Was Spider wrong? Should he let them continue? He couldn't just... lower the gun. Not now...
Quaritch's movement forced Spider to turn back to the recom. He'd stepped forward while Spider's attention was on Jake.
"Stop!" he shouted, holding his hands steady on the gun, despite his flat out exhaustion.
"Son," Quaritch spoke in a low voice, taking another step towards Spider with his arms out in self defense.
Spider gasped shakily, glaring at the man as his heart pounded painfully.
"You won't shoot me."
"No, stop right there!" He hadn't come this far to be talked down by his goddamned kidnapper. "Please..." he whispered.
Quaritch kept taking slow steps towards him, keeping his body half facing Jake. He shook his head at Spider's whispered plea.
"Stop!" he yelled again, raising the gun an inch higher.
"Spider! Shoot him!" Jake yelled from his position.
"Shut it, Sully!" Quaritch growled, returning his gaze to Spider's tortured face. "You won't do it. You won't shoot either of us. You're not a killer."
Tears brimmed behind Spider's eyes, making it hard to see clearly as Quaritch advanced. One more step and he'd be within lunging distance...
"You're my son, and I know you."
"Spider!" Jake shouted, anger coating his words. "Don't give him the gun!"
Spider gasped, realising that Jake was right. He couldn't let Quaritch lunge for it. He looked into Quaritch's eyes and saw a flash of something behind the composed mask the recom wore. He knew in the space of a heartbeat was Quaritch was about to do, and reacted before Quaritch could even move. He lowered the gun to the ground and squeezed the trigger.
The bullet sped through the metal of the deck as easily as if it was made of jelly, leaving a hole only two feet away from where Quaritch was standing.
He'd shot the gun.
He stared at the hole left behind in the floor. He was too afraid to raise his eyes to Quaritch, but with trembling hands, he did so.
His voice was low and poisonous. "Was that supposed to scare me kid?"
It took a split second before Quaritch lunged at Spider, who was forced to make a split decision. The colonel was right - he was never going to shoot him. But he couldn't let him get the gun.
In the second that he had before Quaritch's hands closed around his arms, Spider threw the gun as hard as he could into the water that was creeping up the deck like a silent assassin. He couldn't tell how far he'd thrown it, because he was tackled to the ground by Quaritch.
He let himself be taken down, no longer caring what happened to him. He'd tried, he'd tried to stop the killing... He'd done everything he possibly could have to stop the bloodshed. If Quaritch was going to kill him, so be it. At least he could go out knowing he'd tried.
But Quaritch didn't kill him. Although he was rough, Spider was familiar enough with his movements by now to identify that the recom had tried to throw him out of the way gently, before sprinting after the gun.
Spider was left watching after him, as Jake recovered himself and locked eyes with Spider. Neither knew the right thing to say. Spider was too out of it to make out much in Jake's expression, but the man's mouth was hardened, and his eyes seemed closed off. Then, Jake ran up the deck and lunged into the waves on the opposite side of the ship to Quaritch.
He disappeared into the dark waters, as Spider sank to his knees.
Spider was in shock. What had just happened? What had he done?
The sounds of the sinking ship slowly returned to him. Water rushed around his knees on the cold, hard floor. Jake had abandoned him.
He retched, but it had been so long since he'd eaten that nothing came up. The desire to tear his mask from his face and end it now overcame him, but his arms were simply too heavy to move. Maybe better to let the waves wash him away as the ship sank. Let Eywa take him.
He looked up at the stars, twinkling mysteriously above the wreckage. They were beautiful. Why couldn't he be as good as them?
He jumped as a hand clasped onto his shoulder, though he couldn't do much to pull away. He was too numb. Quaritch's voice was colder than the water now lapping at his waist. "You better come with me, kid."
Phew, I just wrote for a solid two hours on this 😅 Thank you so much @futureslaps for the great prompt! You're MY fave 🥰
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airlockfailure · 6 months ago
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Hi Airlock! :D Are there any scenes or ideas for any of your fics that you LOVED, but they just didn't fit with the feel or current direction of the story, so you couldn't use them? Would you be able to share any with us? And what do you do with those cut scenes and ideas that didn't fit?
AND/OR... Have you ever ADDED a spur-of-the-moment scene that surprised you or wasn't originally planned? If so, could you please share?
Thank you so much!!!!
There aren't really any specific scenes that come to mind that had to be cut that didn't work. Usually when I cut something from a fic it's because the flow is wrong and the scene ends up being reused later; sometimes exactly the same as it was, sometimes with different characters, sometimes the dialogue gets slightly changed if the plot points have changed.
As for adding things...
While I start writing fics with a general idea and outline, the bulk of the story is written on the fly. I then have to keep notes for myself and reread fics a lot to make sure all the details are straight. (We joke about my notes being the tack and string board like the meme, but it's more like a series of spread sheets and word docs that I rifle through whenever my brain forgets something.)
Sometimes I table entire fics, such as Infragilis Et Tenera (Riyo centric fic) because I'm not sure about the idea yet.
But, if I've posted a chapter of a fic, I intend to finish it, it's just I have brain worms for another project instead. The Wooley fic I have is fully outlined, but I haven't worked on it because I'm scared of writing Obi-wan LOL. Et Cum Sola isn't finished because I'm rotating it around like a rotisserie chicken in my mind, but it refuses to stop running pink when I poke it with a fork. :/
lsghskghdk Loses train of thought.
Ahem. Yeah, stuff that gets cut ends up somewhere else. Stuff that gets added is most stuff, actually, because an outline is only a guide. Even super detailed ones. :D There's so much I want to write, but there's just not enough time!!! (This week I'm working 8 days in a row ;-; I've written one sentence of fic this week.)
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bi-bard · 2 years ago
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Three Things - Cal Roberts Imagine (The Path)
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Title: Three Things
Pairing: Cal Roberts X Reader
Word Count: 1,084 words
Warning(s): anxiety
Summary: (Y/n) gets hit with a wave of anxiety with very little warning. They aren't alone in that.
Author's Note: Listen. I just like writing for him. It's very enjoyable... even though this show is very intense.
Here's a comfort fic.
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I wish I knew how it had started.
One minute, I was listening to Eddie tell his story to a group. The next, I felt like my brain was going a million miles an hour. My breathing sped up. My leg started shaking. My chest suddenly felt kind of tight. I tried to look around subtly, hoping no one had noticed.
I caught Cal tilting his head at me. I tried to ignore it and focus on Eddie's story, but I couldn't. I just felt lost and stuck and terrified.
I jumped a little when a hand touched my back. I looked over to see Cal next to me.
"Sorry," he mumbled. "Come with me, okay?"
I nodded and let him guide me away from the crowd and to his little building. I sat on his couch.
All sense of self-control went out the window. I felt myself starting to move closer and closer to completely falling apart.
"(Y/n)," Cal knelt in front of me, carefully grabbing my hands. "I know it's hard right now, but I need you to listen to me, okay?"
I nodded.
"Good. Can you do me a favor and name three things you see," he asked.
I slowly looked around from him, "I... I see the Movement sign... and the white couch... and your desk."
"Good, good," he nodded. "Three things you can hear."
"You," I said immediately. He chuckled but tried to cover it up. "I can hear muffled voices outside... and your bathroom faucet is dripping."
"Good. One last thing. Move three parts of your body. One at a time."
I tilted my head from one side to the other, letting my neck pop. I picked up my foot, rotating my ankle. I repeated the motion with my other foot. Finally, I squeezed Cal's hands.
"Alright, good," he said. "I'm going to grab you some water. I'll be right back."
"D-Don't," I held onto his hands tighter. "P-Please."
"Okay," he nodded, settling back on the floor. "Okay. I won't go. I'm right here."
I pulled his hands into my lap and leaned forward. I rested my forehead against his knuckles. He didn't say anything or try to move. He just sat there quietly.
After a while, I looked up at Cal again. My breathing had evened out and my muscles stopped tensing. I felt like my thoughts had sorted themselves.
"I'm sorry," I said, sitting up fully and releasing his hands. If I didn't know better, I'd say he looked disappointed.
"Nothing to apologize for," he replied.
"No, Eddie was in the middle of his story and I took the attention and I'm so sorry and I need to go apologize to him-"
"Hey, hey, hey," Cal grabbed my upper arms and stopped me from moving. "You don't have anything to do except let things settle and calm down. Nothing needs to be done right now. You're safe here."
I nodded, starting to pop my knuckles in the hopes of calming down. I rang out my hands.
"Do you have any idea what caused it?"
I shook my head and closed my eyes, "It just happened. I didn't know how to stop it or what to do. I was just... lost. Lost and scared and-"
"Okay," Cal moved to sit next to me on the couch, pulling me into his side. "You don't need to explain."
I rested my head on his shoulder, sighing at the feeling of his hand running up and down my arm. I reached up and wiped my cheeks. I barely noticed I was crying earlier, but now it felt like my entire face was covered. I must've looked like a child throwing a tantrum.
"Want some tea," Cal asked after a moment.
I shook my head.
"Water?"
Again, I shook my head.
"Food?"
No.
"Want to lay down?"
I paused.
I felt like shit. I wanted to lay down, but I wasn't ready to walk back out in front of everyone. I didn't want to deal with the questions and the mumbling.
"(Y/n)," Cal muttered. "Would you like to lay down?"
"I don't... I don't want to go..."
"I meant here."
"Oh," I mumbled. "Okay."
He nodded before guiding me to stand up. I let him guide me to his room and pull back the blanket for me. I curled up and grinned at him. He covered me with the blanket and grinned back.
"Thank you," I said quietly. "For everything."
"Of course."
He leaned down at kissed my temple. I felt my face warming up a bit.
"I'll just be in the main room if you need anything. Anything at all."
I nodded.
"Get some rest."
After that, I don't remember much. I really just fell asleep for a while. I could hear Cal moving around in the next room. It was almost comforting. It was like it helped lull me to sleep. My tired brain didn't question it.
I woke up when the door squeaked open.
I sat up, running my hands over my eyes as I tuned back into the world around me.
"Hey, I just wanted to check on (Y/n)," I heard Eddie outside. "I saw you two head this way."
I stood up before slipping on my shoes and walking toward the doorway.
"They just fell asleep," Cal explained.
"Oh, okay, they're alright though," Eddie asked.
"I think so," Cal replied. "I'll send them your way when they get up."
"Thanks, I just want them to know that I'm not upset or anything. No one is."
"They'll appreciate that."
"Thanks, Cal."
There wasn't a response, but I heard the door shut. I rounded the corner just as Cal turned around. He grinned at me.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey," I muttered. "How long was I asleep?"
"Not long," he shrugged. "How are you feeling?"
"Better," I nodded. "Thank you. You have been far too kind to me."
"Well, that's just not true," he chuckled. "And you're welcome."
We both paused for a moment.
"Did you hear Eddie?"
"Yeah, I should probably go catch up with him," I said. "Thank you, yet again, this has been very nice."
He just nodded at me.
I went around him to head out but stopped at the door. I turned around and stepped back toward him. Before he could ask any questions, I leaned in and kissed his cheek.
I almost didn't catch the way he looked at the floor as I turned around and headed out of the room.
Keyword: Almost.
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Masterlist (Includes links to All Writing Challenges)
What I Write For
Some Original Characters
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wildernessuntothemselves · 3 years ago
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i’m in med school too so i don’t know if this would be of any help but: get ready to fail on tests and have teachers be so demanding of u. you would be feeling as if you were a robot who cant do no mistakes. in highschool i was at my top, had the best grades and even got a scholarship. the moment i started med school it was the HEAVIEST and teachers are going to be RUTHLESS with you. i don’t know how are teachers in other parts of the world but in here they ask you questions about everything till you crack. I had this professor, who was a neurosurgeon, who would ask us in the labs about the sulci and parts of the brain. if you managed to answer him he would ask you even more, he wouldn't stop until he saw that you knew enough. he did this especially to prepare you once you got to the hospital rotations (i’m not sure how you say it in english ?). you really need to learn stuff in such a short span. you will need techniques to memorize. mnemonics are the best! also, after finishing a class go directly to review it and during the week gradually study it together with other subjects. having study groups is the best too. in my case the med school library became my second home. the amount of pressure is insane. there’s a crazy amount of learning you have to do because you will be dealing with LIVES. human lives. but what you really need is the mindset. the mental state of medical students is low, so make sure you prioritize your health whenever you can! in my experience, before entering medicine i worked as best as i could on my mental health and relaxation techniques for stressful situations. however, it doesn't mean you won’t experience this anymore in medical school, so you need to have techniques or know what to do in case of an episode (whether it's depression, anxiety or stress). get ready to fail, demand the best of yourself (always), have a support system, be open about learning, and give a warm welcome to years of no social life outside of school lmao. overall is exhausting and when people are giving you a warning is not out of exaggeration. I say this because I thought so at the beginning and I was so wrong.
(sorry for any grammar mistakes, i’m not a native english speaker!)
yesss the imposter syndrome hit me HARD in med school. when you're in school you're the top student. you're the smartest. everyone tells you how gifted you are and how you're gonna achieve so much. and then you get to med school and everyone around you is smart and gifted, even more than you, and for the first time in your life you feel stupid and inadequate and you start wondering if you're actually smart at all or if you somehow tricked all those people into thinking you're something you're not. my professors weren't actually bad like you're describing but that differs per school but I remember one time during my peak imposter syndrome days I was sitting in class, knowing nothing while seemingly everyone else around me knew everything and the professor stops the lecture to say "if you don't know this stuff already at this point then quit because someone else deserves to be in your place" and fuck I was devastated
great advice on the reviewing everything as soon as you get back thing because things pile up FAST in med school. you don't think it would be so bad but it is and you'll really thank yourself later that you'd looked over the material while it's still fresh. study groups or even just a study partner are another great idea. i never used to study with anyone, couldn't do it, but by the end of med school me and my study partner were pulling each other by the bootstraps. i couldn't have done it without him
+++the social life thing. I thought it wouldn't matter to me because I am a huge introvert but at some point the only thing you'll be doing in your life is studying. your life will revolve around med school and you won't have time to do anything else. and not only just in med school. as a doctor you'll never stop studying or taking tests. yeah the pressure of needing to pass in order to graduate will be gone but you'll still need to study so much that people take weeks off from work just to study for those tests. i just recently had to take two months off work in order to study and take a test. not to mention that you'll be expected to work your ass off the first few years after you graduate in order to learn and gain experience and because consultants aren't going to be the ones to work most patients so say goodbye to your 20's. by the time you come up for air you'll be well into your 30's
and yeah this is all not said just to scare you but because it's true. i too scoffed at the people who told me how hard med school is and continued scoffing at them my first two years. yeah it was hard but it was manageable but boy was I wrong. you won't know what hit you until it's too late :')
so yeah take care of yourself mentally because you'll need the fortitude
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astro-rain · 4 years ago
Text
delicate; b.barnes
chapter four - mri’s & other modern commodities
delicate masterlist
word count: 1.8k
synopsis: bucky faces his first day of treatment, and discovers some new things along the way: some scary, some awesome, some maybe slightly embarassing.
pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader
[A/N]: not my gif
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When he woke up, he scanned his room, making sure everything was the same as how he left it the night before. Making sure no one came in while he was asleep and poisoned his brain. Making sure he was waking up in his living quarters in Wakanda and not a damp cell in some secret Hydra base. It was just something he did now.
Some may call it paranoia, others may call it adaptation. Either way, once he stepped outside and made sure he was alone, he allowed himself to take a breath.
Today was the day, the first day of official treatment. He had no idea what to expect; he was just hoping to high heavens that it would end up working. Freedom. That's all he wanted. Liberation from the chains Hydra had had around him since he fell from the train all those years ago.
He was apprehensive for sure, but he tried his best to keep himself optimistic. Bucky was sure that Shuri was smarter than any Hydra scientist he once came in contact with. So, if they can tear apart his mind, perhaps she can put it back together. Right?
Her in addition to (Y/N). That psychologist woman. He had spoken to her the day before at the lake. She was funny, and she seemed decently easy to talk to. That's a good sign, he guessed. She told him that she hadn't minded relocating to assist in his treatment, but he honestly couldn't make out her true feelings. She was rather hard to read. Perhaps it was a psychologist thing; he tried not to look too far into it.
He waited outside his door until two Wakandans came to escort him to Shuri. Bucky noticed they were armed. Guards. He wasn't surprised nor did he blame them. However, that didn't make it any easier to trust. He hadn't had that luxuy in a very long time. The former assassin fought against the voice in the back of his head telling him to analyze their every move in order to ensure that he wasn't in any danger. That any minute they weren't going to strap him down and rip his brain apart the way it had been so many times before. So many times. He gave the slightest wince at the thought. His brain suddenly felt prickly, painful memories creeping up on him.
Not now, don't think about it.
Sometimes, if he fixated on the thoughts for too long, he would drive himself to this panicked state of fear and constriction. He wasn't sure exactly what this thing was. All he knew was that these things - these episodes - were extremely unpleasant, and utterly unnecessary at the moment.
He shook his head (somehow hoping that this would rid him of the prickly memories like a dog shaking off water), strands of long brown hair swaying quickly in front of his eyes, and fixed his gaze to the floor.
Floor. Floor. Floor. Floor. Just the floor. The floor. The floor. The floor-
"Sergeant Barnes!" Shuri welcomed him happily.
Oh. He was in the lab now. He let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Let's do this.
"Good morning," he smiled, "and just Bucky's okay."
"Of course, of course. This is my lab! Best place in Wakanda in my humble opinion. Today's only the first day of treatment, so nothing too intensive. But, we will be working all the same!"
He glanced around the lab. The guards were at the doorway and they didn't look like they were leaving anytime soon. Again, he wasn't surprised. Moreover, sitting at a table a few feet from Shuri, was a familiar face. This familiar face soon met his gaze.
"Hi, Bucky" (Y/N) greeted, offering a polite smile. "See! I remembered this time."
Bucky grinned. "Are you still (Y/N), or is it Dr. (Y/L/N) since we're in the lab now?"
"I'm always (Y/N)."
"I don't know, if I went to school for as long as you did, I'd make everyone call me Doctor," Shuri added.
(Y/N) laughed. "Well, if you want to call me Doctor you're more than welcome, Shuri."
"That's the spirit, Doc," she declared before turning to Bucky. "Now, follow me and we'll get a quick MRI done."
"A what?" He quickly caught up to Shuri who already started walking away.
"An MRI. It stands for magnetic resonance imaging. Basically, scanners use strong magnetic fields, magnetic field gradients, and radio waves to generate images of the organs in the body."*
Yes, very basic.
(Y/N) leaned over to Bucky, explaining softly, "It's used to form pictures of the anatomy and the physiological processes of the body."**
"Oh."
"You just lay down and it scans you. Y'don't even feel anything."
"Thats... not too bad, I guess."
"It's a bit of a tight fit though, so I hope you're aren't claustrophobic."
Bucky rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, after cryo, I doubt tight spaces will be too much of a bother for me."
"Right," said (Y/N), "but it's still decently in your personal space. Just so you know - so there's no surprises."
He nodded. They didn't say anything until Shuri stopped short in front of them. She stood a couple feet from a shiny metal table which was lined up in front of an equally shiny and metallic semi-cricle arch. It was long enough to fit - well, would you look at that - a body.
"Oh. I guess there is a surprise," (Y/N) blurted, turning to Shuri, confused. "That isn't like any MRI machine I've ever seen."
"That's because you're in Wakanda," Shuri flashed a proud smile. "Tech's a bit... advanced here."
(Y/N) turned to Bucky. He thought he saw something resembling self consciousness flow across her features, but he wasn't sure.
"Sorry, I guess I was wrong. But, honestly this is way better than a typical MRI set up. It's much more open... and wide. Regularly, it would be like a super narrow tube with hardly any space inside. This way, you'll even be able to see us and the rest of the room."
That's good. More space. More freedom. And he'll be able to see her- them, see them.
Shuri clapped. "Alright! Shall we get started then?"
He had no idea how any of this worked; he was way out of his element here. He just barely learned what a damn MRI was, and had to hide his shock when he found out. Medicine has changed dramatically since 1945. Although it is helpful, he is completely clueless. Great.
"Do I jus-just lay on the table?" He asked, unsure.
"Yep! Just lie there and be absolutely still, and I'll do the rest," Shuri replied, reassuringly as she walked around to a control panel next to the machine, preparing to start.
Bucky took his place on the thin metal table, and he thought he was seeing things. Was it was levitating? Honestly, from what he's seen so far he wouldn't even be surprised. He stared up at the ceiling, getting lost in thought. A string of various questions and uncertainties fluttered through his battered mind.
Would the metal arm interfere with the magnet- oh. Right. No arm. Just a scan, no need to worry. (Y/N) said it would be fine. Can I even trust her Then again, can I even trust anyone yet? She's the best I got right now. Damn it, I wish I wasn't so wary of everyone.
"Hey," a gentle voice pulled him out.
He looked over to the left of him, the side with no arm. (Y/N).
"I can practically hear your brain whirring around right now - which is justified - but do you need anything?"
'Do you need anything?' He hadn't heard that phrase in a while.
He adjusted his body on the table. "I'm alright, just... a bit out of my element here."
She nodded, knowingly. "Honestly, me too. This lab looks like somethin' out of a sci-fi movie for me, so I can't imagine what it must feel like to you."
She was looking down at him. He felt vulnerable, exposed. It seemed like she noticed.
"Here, I have an idea."
With that, she turned and grabbed something from a nearby table. Rotating around to face him again, she displayed what she had taken: a pair of headphones... but without a wire? What the hell?
"Are they broken?" he asked, feeling perpetually confused.
"No, they're wirelessly connected to my phone. It's called bluetooth."
The look on his face was almost laughable.
"Bluetooth? What kind of name is Bluetooth?"
"The kind of name that I didn't invent nor should I be blamed for," she chuckled. "Do you want to listen to music while you're in there? It might help to keep you down on Earth with us."
Music. The thought was almost surreal. He hadn't been privileged with such a pleasure in longer than he'd care to admit. It actually seemed... nice.
"Y-yeah," he said, pondering. "That'd actually be nice."
"Awesome."
She leaned over him to put the headphones on his ears, causing him a very conflicting series of emotions.
First of all, close. She was very close to his face. His face, his eyes, his nose, his lips. It almost seemed a tad bit intimate. And then he realized he hadn't been this close to a woman in forever. A real woman, not some fellow assassin he had to take out. He hoped the shy embarrassment he felt didn't show on his cheeks.
Second of all, she was wrapping something around his head, his brain. He tried not to, but he couldn't stop the muscle memory of what he'd been conditioned to feel. Hydra's machine would wrap around his head and rip his psyche apart. His mind expected pain, the worst pain, the dehumanizing, out of body, mind splitting pain. He hoped the way he flinched ever so slightly didn't offend (Y/N).
She didn't seem offended, and her voice was soft. "You're good. Just music and a scan. Then you're done."
He looked up at her face, reassuring and calm. He took a deep breath.
"Good?" she asked.
He nodded. "Think so."
"If it's too much at any point just let us know, and we'll pull you right out. It's your comfort level, your choice."
His choice. Choice. Control. The prospect gave him comfort.
She gave him one last look before stepping away and signaling Shuri to start the machine. The seemingly levitating table began a smooth descent into the machine when the music started playing. It almost startled him, but he then he was pleasantly surprised by what he heard.
There were loud drums, guitar riffs with attitude, and voices that had so much emotion they were almost screaming. It was like no music he had ever heard before, and he loved it. In fact, he was so into it that he didn't even notice when the MRI had finished. That is, until he felt a feather light hand on his shoulder. His eyes opened, and (Y/N) had the biggest grin on her face. While taking the headphones off of him, she looked very pleased with herself.
She looked at Shuri but declared to no one in particular, "Bucky likes Rock and Roll!"
- - -
* = from wikipedia
** = from wikipedia
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bakugou-jpg · 4 years ago
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Cherry wine || Single dad!Tsukishima
So hello! This is something i’ve been planning on posting for awhile now. Idk if i like it or not and Tsukishima might be a bit OOC since i haven’t been in the Haikyuu fandom for very long but oh well. Tomorrow i’ll try and post the masterlist for it and how many chapters it’ll have!
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-Prologue-
“I’m pregnant”
The silence that fell over the room became deafening, not a single sound except for the distant students outside of the dorm building chatting and laughing together. The fan in the corner of the room buzzed, rotating left and right and rustling some papers on the desk. The wind softly blew through his hair, making the heat more bearable than it was before but at that very moment his thoughts and gone completely blank.
The girl in front of him leaned onto the desk that was placed behind her and knitted her eyebrows together, not in anger but purely because she had been lost in thought. Her arms were crossed and she looked at the boy's feet, biting her bottom lip while doing so.
To say it was a shock, was simply too lightly. I mean, yes, the two of them hadn't exactly done much to prevent it that night so it had been quite the possibility but it had never crossed his mind. She was pregnant, something he did. The clumb of cells that was currently busy forming into a little human was because of him.
"Tsukishima"
Tsukishima's head snapped up and for a moment his eyes widened slightly. They held eye contact for a moment, neither of them breaking it. They were both, confused. Neither of them knowing what to do know and neither of them knowing what to say.
The boy adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. He folded his hands together and fiddled around with them, something he unconciously did when he was nervous. "..Oh"
Its all he could think of at that moment. Tsukishima,  a man who always knew how to respond to whatever situation with either a logic answer or a cocky remark now felt silent. He was a rational person, but now it seemed that his brain short circuited.
The girl sighed, her eyes falling down to the ground once again. She moved one of her hands to rub over her face and then started biting her thumb nail. "I found out on Sunday. I..wanted to think about it myself a bit first. Hope you understand" She said, her voice trailing off.
Tsukishima nodded. "Of course."
Another silence.
There was one question he was dying to ask, of course, the most obvious one. He was a strong believer of the belief that it was her body and her choice and that he didn't have ANY saying in what she wanted to do, but he was still curious. At that moment he didn't even know which decision he wanted or preferred. Would it be bad if he asked? Or was it too soon?
"What do you- " "I-"
They both fell silent, not wanting to interrupt one another. Tsukishima excused himself and nodded towards her. "Sorry, go on".
The girl in front of her looked a little anxious and bit her lip before taking a deep breath and closing her eyes to calm her nerves. She breathed out and locked eyes with the boy standing in front of her. "I've thought about it..and decided what choice i wanted to make and i hope you can support me in that."
Tsukishima quickly nodded and waved his hand. "Your body your choice. Whatever decision you make i will respect it so do not rely on my approval" He said, something which made her worried expression relax. It felt as if there had bee a weight lifted off of her shoulders.
She nodded, letting her eyes roam around the room for a second trying to figure out how to put it into words.
"For the longest time i've planned out what i wanted to do with my life, with my future. Go to college, study to become an archeologist and become succesful and travel around..A baby can't fit into that plan, not yet."
Understandable. Tsukishima understood what she meant, for he too had a plan of what he wanted to do in the future. Work in a museum, it was something that he loved the idea of ever since he was a kid. She wanted to become something bigger, so of course a baby would only get in the way.
She cleared her throat and fiddled her hands. "I do, however, want to give it a chance of being able to live. For him or her to find out what joys life can gift to you and how wonderful the world can be..So i'm going to give them up for adop-"
"I'll raise them"
What.
The girl's eyes widened and she looked at Tsukishima in shock.
Tsukishima pushed himself off of the wall and looked at her for a second before taking a step closer to her. "I'll take responsibility and raise them."
What was he saying?
The girl blinked in surprise, her mouth slightly agape from the sudden response one that she had not expected in a million years. Tsukishima's eyebrows were slightly knitted, something which showed he was dear serious over this. "..please"
Why was he saying this?
The girl snapped out of her daze and ran her fingers through her hair, her other hand cupping her still flat stomach. "I-..Wh- Tsukishima..are you serious?" She asked in disbelieve, still taken aback from the reaction. "With all due respect, Tsukishima, but i really hope you understand i am not planning on raising this baby alongside you nor am i planning to hop in at a later age. I just-"
"I don't care for that. You won't have to be involved in any way, i'll make my own money, buy my own two bedroom apartment, raise my own kid. I'll work it out, if you want i'll cover half of all your medical bills" Tsukishima said while leaning back again, looking at her with his usual stoic expression again. Yet, his golden brown eyes held a mixture of confusion and fear. But that was something she would never be able to catch onto.
God what the fuck was he saying
The girl sighed and shook her head a little, trying to wrap her head around what was happening. "I mean..Medical bills won't be a problem, my family's wealthy enough to be able to cover that without a problem..I just..I thought you were passionate about this college course and wanting to succeed? Its not some kind of puppy you raise, can leave at home for the day and to come back at the end of the day and feed it and sometimes throw a stick around, Tsuki-"
"Do i look like an idiot to you?" Tsukishima said with narrowed eyebrows, tapping his finger on his other arm impatiently. Surely, he fooled around with her, but Tsukishima couldn't stand the way she thought she was better and smarter than him.
The girl rolled her eyes and sighed. "You know what i mean" She snapped back. "Its gonna be a big responsibility, its gonna get in the way of you making it big out there."
Once again, a silence fell over the dorm.
Tsukishima's thoughts were screaming at him. Telling him this decision was an impulsive one, how he had to think it through first and asking him over and over again what he was thinking. He knitted his eyebrows together and stared at the ground, slowly nodding.
"I know what i'm doing"
No he did not
The girl nodded and shrugged, her eyes glancing to the clock hanging on his wall. She looked back at Tsukishima and hummed, pushing herself off of the desk. "Well, okay then. I've got class in ten minutes, we'll discuss the details later on. Take care" She said, pushing herself off of the desk. Her hand reached out for Tsukishima's shoulder and gave it a small squeeze, something which made Tsukishima just the slightest bit uncomfortable.
He didn't even say anything, simply too caught up with the sea of a void that suddenly washed over him. It numbed all of his thoughts, all of his surroundings as the thumping of his own heartbeat echoed in his ear.
The click of his dorm room falling back into its lock flew past him, not even having noticed the girl had left. Tsukishima stood there for about 10 minutes until he was pulled back to the surface, something which made him fall back onto his bed. He put his elbows on his knees, his hands raking through his hair as he looked at his ground with slightly panicked eyes.
He let out a long sigh, his hand running over his face as he threw his head back and leaned it against the wall. It was already dark, the only people outside being the ones going to their night classes. It was cold, after all it was October and the weather hadn't been exactly the nicest out.
Tsukishima glanced out of his window, his eyes following the form of the girl who was just left his dorm and was now running outside to arrive at her class in time. His eyes were locked onto her until she had turned a corner, now out of sight.
What did he just agree to?
He let his eyes slowly slide down from his window to his bed, a place where his phone was resting. Without really thinking about it, he reached out for the phone, pressing a few buttons before bringing it up to his ear.
"..Tadashi? I..i fucked up"
Nine months felt a lot longer than it usually did. While a school year usually felt like it flew by rather quickly to Tsukishima, these past few months felt like as if there was a chain with a heavy ball chained to his ankles. Every minute, every second felt like it took forever.
As the trees lost their leaves, the snow covered the ground. As the snow melted away, the flowers started blooming again. As the flowers grew higher, the temperature did too. With every transmission, Tsukishima's feet grew heavier and heavier. It all lead up to that one moment. One moment that would change his life forever, a moment he'd remember till' the day he'd die.
As the seconds ticked by, they turned into minutes. As the small hand of the clock moved forward made a full circle, the hours started moving by. Slow, very slowly. Tsukishima lost sense of time, sitting in that chair waiting for someone to give him a sign and to inform him of the slightest bit of news. Anything.
His thoughts even stopped at some point. Surely he was panicking internally and the fact that his phone kept buzzing in his pocket, his family and Yamaguchi repeatedly asking him how it was going, didn't make it any better. Hell, the fact Yamaguchi managed to leak the information to his old teammates didn't soothen the buzz in his pockets at all. But he just stared at a wall.
The ticking of the clock, the water that dripped from the tap, the foot steps from the nurses, the distant screams of agony and the phone that rang every 15 minutes in the nurses office started to feel like a pattern. A never ending pattern that had repeated itself almost a million times already.
"Mr. Tsukishima?"
Fuck
Tsukishima's head snapped up and his eyes met the one of an older woman who was wearing a long blue cover up and a mask hanging next to the side of her head. She wore a smile on her face, a tired one, but a happy one. She had discarded the gloves she wore and Tsukishima noticed some light blood smears on the gown she was wearing.
"He's here"
He
In the past 9 months that had passed, Tsukishima had never thought that his feet could feel more heavier. But in that moment it felt as if Medusa herself had locked eyes with him and stared into his golden brown eyes, drinking in his beauty before stiffening his body and turning it into stone.
He didn't notice how his lanky long body had gotten up from the chair he had been sitting at for the past few hours and how he was now silently walking behind the doctor, following in her footsteps as she lead him to a room.
"The mother told me to inform you she didn't want to see your son and that she'd appreciate it if you stayed away for a little while" The nurse said while holding the door for him open.
His son
Tsukishima looked around the room, noticing how extremely empty and silent it was. The beds that were there were empty, waiting for a new patient to arrive. The blind were closed, but it let the slightest bit of light through cascading down onto to the little bin standing in the middle of it, surrounded by two other nurses that were busy with what was inside of it.
The two nurses looked up at him and smiled, one of them walking towards the exit of the room while the other reached out for the bundle of blankets inside of the little bed. She picked it up, stepping towards Tsukishima with a very kind small. One he didn't notice, for his eyes were only focused on the very small baby she held in her hands. "Meet your son" She said while holding the baby out for him, adjusting his hands just slightly so he'd make the baby feel comfortable.
He held out his hands, taking the bundle of blankets into his arms and immediately holding him close to his body. Tsukishima made sure to support his head, remembering all the things he read in a book his mother gifted him after having announced the news. He wouldn't dare to cause the baby any discomfort, it felt as if he was made out of the thinnest porcelain in the world.
"We'll give you a moment, we'll be next door if u need us" Tsukishima heard the older nurse say before the door shut behind her, leaving both him and his son alone in the room.
The baby slightly moved around in his blanket, one of his tiny arms poking through and stretching out towards Tsukishima's face before returning back into the comfort of his warm cocoon. A small yawn left the baby's mouth, a sight that made Tsukishima's eyes soften.
"Someone's pretty tired, huh? Nine months of sleep ain't enough for you, buddy?" He whispered, peering into the little eyes that were slowly opening up revealing a very familar pair of golden brown ones although his appeared to be just a bit more darker. It also didn't Tsukishima long before he noticed the dark blonde hairs poking out of his hat, ones that almost matched his own but just being a shade darker than his own.
He grinned and stroked the baby's cheek, taking in every detail of his face. "Aren't you just a sight for sore eyes, like i'm looking into a mirror." Tsukishima said with a short snicker.
In that very moment, Tsukishima felt his feet get lighter. The heavy chain on his feet he carried around for months that got heavier and heavier broke, just by the single stare the boy had on him. He didn't care anymore, about what he was gonna do in the future. He didn't care about if he'd still be able to finish college or if he was gonna be able to pull through.
Every thing he did, was gonna be for him. Every decision he made, was gonna be with him in the back of his mind. Every thing decent nice thing he did, he did hoping he could be somewhat proud of his old man.
And so, from 7 years from that moment, on Tsukishima was going to have a succesful career. One he had achieved after graduating from college, something he couldn't of have done without the motivation he had after his son was born and he was going to make sure his son was always first with whatever he did.
"Welcome to the world, Kaoru"
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rami-writes-blog · 6 years ago
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Meeting Him - Reader x Rami Malek (Chapter 1.1)
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You're for the first time in your life in New York. You came from a small town all the way in [your country].  You've dreamt of coming here since.. Well, ever since you can remember.
You just got some to-go coffee and are about to go into the city.
Because you've been so caught up with everything around you, it takes you some time to realize that you have no idea where you are or where you're going. Thankful you live in an tech-generation, you take your phone to use Google Maps.
--------------
As I take another sip of my coffee, I fire up Google Maps.
,,Fuck. No service''. A panic attack starts to make its way to my mind. I'm all alone and I don't even have service. Being optimistic for once I re-assure myself ,,Well, at least I have a road map with me'', thanking my dad in my mind for convincing me to take it with me after all.
I wasn't planning on asking some complete stranger for directions. I've always been really shy and insecure and for me to just walk up to a stranger and ask for directions? Nope. NOT happening. I even hate walking up to someone I do know.
As I unfold the road map and study it carefully it hits me ,,Right. I forgot I don't even know how reading a map works. Note to self: Pay attention to geography in your next life'' I can't help but getting into a laugh kick as I notice I'm talking to myself again. It passes quickly too when I see some people staring at me. So I decide to do the only obvious thing: hide my face behind the map. They probably think I'm a weirdo. Shit, I hate it when I'm the center of attention. I can feel my face turning red.
When I lower my map just enough to see if they're still there, I sigh in relief. They're gone.
I actually hoped they would help me. ,,But I guess it's just me and you map'', I say while I'm rotating my map a few times in all possible ways to give a signal that I'm lost.
With my head still hidden behind the map,  I'm sipping my coffee and anxiously pacing around when suddenly someone bumps into me. Or, actually I bump into them since I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. I knew it was my fault but I actually wanted to get mad anyway so my first response was: ,,Fuck'' (in your own language). To which his first reaction was to start laughing.
When I realize I once again swore out loud I turned as red as a tomato, apologizing to him at few times. Some of my coffee came on his shirt. Fuck, why is this happening to me??
,,I'm so so SO sorry'' I go on as I tried to clean it with the sleeve of my sweater. He said calmly ,,Don't worry, I'll just put it in the laundry when I get home, it was my fault really so I should be apologizing''.  I don't know if it was calm or angry-calm.
The moment I hear his voice, chills came down my spine. I was curious to the face belonging to this voice, but I'm still to ashamed to look at him. Standing there for a few moments, I actually hoped he had walked away by now but he's still standing in front of me. I'm collecting some courage to say something, but I'm just too uncomfortable. I don't even start conversations with people I do know. So here I stand. Just standing face down, as the awkward person that I am.
Suddenly I see, him grabbing into his pocket. He grabs a tissue and tries to clean my sweater with it. The coffee was all over me. Shit, I hadn't even noticed. Before my brain can even wrap its head around what's happening, he grabs my hand and cleans that too. I feel like a little kid. But the touch of his hand made a shock go through my whole body.
It wasn't until then I took the courage to look up and when I finally did my eyes couldn't stop looking at him. Ho-ly shit. I can feel the blood rushing to my cheecks.
The man standing behind me is not only the most beautiful man I ever laid eyes on but I actually think I've seen this man before but I can't quit put my finger on it. He has these beautiful, tiny black curls. He's wearing sunglasses and he's actually pretty small (about my height), which makes me wonder how old he is. He's dressed casually but he looks like the kind of man that can even pull off a garbage bag if he wore it. This. Man. Is. Gorgeous.
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He holds my hand a bit longer than he should have and it kind of makes me uncomfortable but I also wish we could stay here for a bit longer like that.
,,Are you going to tell me what 'fuck' means, or not?'' he says with a big smile on his face. I can tell he's entertained and I'm trying to speak but he has me tongue tied. Especially the way he smiles at me.. Just the normal response you get being around someone handsome, only 10 times worse since I already have 0 % confidence.
He points to the ground where the empty coffee-cup fell down and cautiously kind of asks ,,well, this coffee couldn't have been very tasty anyway'', gauging my response. I tell him ,,It's the first one since I'm here so the best one yet''. He then kneels down to grab the map that fell down on the ground and he's trying his very best to fold it again. ,,Why don't you just use your phone? Where are you going?'' he asks. While giving it back to me in a somewhat folded state. In stead of answering his question I ask him a question in return ,,Well.. I'm not quit sure I just got here. You're from here right? Do you have any suggestions?''.
He smiles at me, takes off his sunglasses and by the way he frowning I can tell he's thinking. He suggests: ,,I know a great cafeteria a few blocks down, if you'd like I could take you there? I'd like to make up to you? AND, I know some good spots to visit since you're here if you want any tips''.My hands are sweaty and I actually think my heartbeat is loud enough for him to hear at this point.
I'm actually doubting if I should go with this complete stranger, being 3.500 miles away from home. I mean, a man like this? A woman like me? Why me? Why doesn't he just walk away? I always thought myself a thousand times out of good things, but never once into it.
So I decide to go with him. He looks so familiar to me but I still can't just remember! Shall I ask him? No, that's lame. Well, it doesn't matter anyway. I trust him already. It's his precense and the way he already makes me feel and a lot of more things I can't find words for.
,,Well, I'm here now so if you have some spare time, I'd love to join you'' I tell him while i nod.
A smile appears on his face, ,,I don't'' he says as he quickly takes his phone and sends someone a text. ,,I'm free all day''. He takes the map from me and tosses it away. ,,guess you won't be needing this anymore'' he said with this kind of smile that makes my heart skip a beat once again.
,,Well, what are we waiting for''? I ask while waiting for him to lead the way. I'm kind of anxious about what'll happen next. ,,Don't be scared. You can trust me'' he re-assures me, as if he could read my mind. Together, side by side walking towards god-knows-where.
------
Hi guys, sorry for any typo's or anything.
This is my first one. Feel free to let me know what you thought about it!!
There will follow a version on which you can read the other side of this; Rami's side.
Also there will be more sequels to this one (if you like it anyway :')).
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let-thevoid-takeme · 4 years ago
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2/25/21 6:57am
MLT: You were right to give me the nickname 'and another thing'. I should have gathered all my thoughts for my final message because I knew you weren't going to answer, but I was off work yesterday so I had plenty of time to sit with myself and be depressed as fuck. So just job your memory here's what I said:
"Felt that coming but I already said I will never again allow people to have  access to me"
Okay I really didn't want to hit you with a wall of text and do the and another thing, but you're being an asshole MLT.
Why are you acting like I broke your heart? You made your choice and I'm respecting that.  I'm very understanding, but do you not know how hard this is for me?
I've tried to hold this in because I don't want to stress you out or make you feel bad, but you really hurt me. I explicitly told you how bad of a spot I was in. I was ready to die. I was planning my death and you just came along and gave me hope again. And then you take that away from me. Do you have any idea how much it hurts to have the person you love say 'You take the fun out of having a baby'?
You painted such a beautiful picture of our life together. I wanted it so bad and I don't get that. For the second time my hopes and dreams have been completely shattered, but despite that I'm still willing to be there for you. You don't call me like you used to or text me. You don't treat me the same. I'm just supposed to stick around and be constantly reminded that I'm an afterthought? That I don't don't matter? That you have no room in your life for me?
But I was doing it and I was managing my pain, but for you to tell me how you spent your weekend... MLT, what the fuck were you thinking? I will always love and support you. I try my very best to be understanding, but no women is so understanding that she wants to hear that the man she loves who RECENTLY dumped her for his wife that he RECENTLY married is HAPPILY celebrating their love in front of friends and family.
I'm cool, but I'm not that fucking cool. It's like you don't even know me anymore? Are you trying to hurt me? I know you're not but damn it feels like it.
And here's what I need to add:
You say you love us the same, but that's not true. You either love her more or you're a fucking coward because you don't do what you did to me if you loved me.
You knew that you had no intentions of leaving her so why present the situation like that? You know I'm cool as fuck. If just wanted to hit and quit the "girl of your dreams" I would have been cool with that. Why? Because I was fucking depressed and planning on killing myself any damn way, but no you had to give me hope and make me want to live again and I asked you not to do that if it wasn't real.
So how can you say you love and care for me when your plan was to string me along because your wife finally started pulling her weight because of my advice?
You didn't even answer my text and you'll lie to yourself and say it's because you don't like conflict. If you cared for me you wouldn't let me sit with this alone, but that's what you're doing. How many times did I ask you not to do that? How many times did I ask you to just tell me you need the space so my brain doesn't go off the wall? But you let me spiral every fucking time.
Honestly I got the idea to unfollow you because you did that shit first. You changed on me. Once your precious wife started being around you stopped making an effort with me, but I'm supposed to be special... right. I'm special alright. I'm clearly not right in the head.
Look at that fucking screenshot!!! How is that supposed to make me feel? You lied to me when you didn't have to. I was just some fantasy and you could have left it at that, but you choose to hurt me.
So now everyday I get to think about how you didn't want me either. I'm clearly the problem. 'You take the fun out of having a baby, 'I don't want to get you pregnant anymore, and my favorite 'You're killing me.
I actually went to my doctor and talked about family planning because 3 of my medications cause birth defects in the first trimester. I still don't take them because I was holding out hope. Might as well add them back into the rotation now that I mention it...
I pulled back so I wouldn't stress you out. I pulled back because I cared so much for you I was more concerned about your well being than mine, but you didn't care for me when it was done. All you did was show me that my fears were absolutely warranted.
And swear on the God I don't believe in I'm still not mad at you. I am beyond disappointed and hurt that you could do this to me, and honestly if CMO didn't obliterate my heart back in 2019 I wouldn't be alive to type this, because I'm so fucking numb it's the only thing keeping me going.
Once again not blaming my death on you two. At the end of the day I couldn't find away to make myself happy, I couldn't find a way to give my life meaning, I just didn't want to fight anymore. That has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. It's my responsibility to fix this cavernous hole in my heart.
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