#im just tired of being told everyday that “at least you didn't have to deal with ___” or “Oh yeah?? Well ___ happened to me”

[incomprehensiblegiberish]

am i the only one who doesn't see purpose in the cycle of work for more work to do more work so that you can earn more work? why should i fucking try if my only reward is getting more work and maybe a "good job keep working". i am. fucking tired.

[ratherbefangirling]

Love wins all: perfect imperfect

An AU because I can't get it out my head but also I can't think enough to write a fic 🤧 unedited as usual. Or is it fic 🤔

Warning ⚠️: alludes to abuse, bullying, insensitive words for disability. And I clearly don't know anything about disabilities so please I'm sorry if I made a mess of it.

Genre: angst

Taehyung's life sucked. It truly did. It was like a downward spiral. Going round and round until he was worse off thereon from where he started.

Nobody knows they are different until somebody points it out. Taehyung grew up with his halmeoni, his grandmother who he adored. Loosing his parents had not been a tradegy when he never knew them to begin with.

He hadn't paid much attention to his eyes. He was half blind and really he could still see. He just tripped a lot more. When he'd be a little older the doctor would explain about all the medical jargon. But when he was little his grandma told that the heavens made him so beautiful that michievious devil's in their envy stole his other eye and if he were good one day the angels would bless him.

Then his grandmother died. And all the fairytale with her. His uncle adopted him. They had a deal. He fed and clothed Taehyung. Taehyung kept the house clean and stayed out of trouble. Sometimes his uncle felt nice enough to buy him strawberries. Sometimes he felt bad enough to turn his skin into strawberries.

And so Taehyung trembled as if winter had seated into his bones... despite that Taehyung didn't hate his uncle. At least his uncle didn't abandon him like his mother who'd found a new rich lover and dropped her infant and disappeared. An imperfection in her perfect world.

Then his uncle died and Taehyung figured it was his destiny to be abandoned.

As he bowed quite listless infront of every one who came to the funeral.

Poor thing.

Cursed child.

Devils spawn

Pitiful boy

Have you seen his eyes? They gave me such a scare

He's heard it all before. Everyday at school it's fascinating how kids can't get tired of pointing out the obvious. Pathetic people who thrive of the misery of others.

Suddenly a hush fell over the funeral hall. A man in an expensive black suit, surrounded by bodyguards came to pay respect.

"Im sorry for your loss mister?"

"Kim Taehyung."

"Yes, I'm the owner of the factory your uncle worked at as an apology I would like to provide compensation."

Taehyung nodded. The rest of it was a blur. He remembers drinking some of his uncle's liquor. Eating expired ramen. Laughing so hard and crying till he fell asleep. He remember meeting the lawyers and signing things he didn't understand and then he finds himself new uniform, new books in hand in front of a building so magnificent he felt cheap.

Soul Highschool for children with special needs.

He thinks his old classmates will have quite a laugh he's in a school with his kind. In a school of freaks they'd lovingly call it.

And maybe the universe finally felt bad for him because there he meet Jieun. His Jieun.

He sees her and thinks oh he's so grateful he's alive. She's beautiful. Like a blossom in the winter. Like spring. Like an angel.

When the teacher assigns Jieun to show him around. He follows her a little dazed. Almost falling like he always does and she gives him her hand like it's the most natural thing in the world, like being kind to him is so easy and its worth scraping his knees sometimes to see her smile at his dorkiness and so he can stare at her as she carefully bandages his knee blowing over it softly and the pain almost disappears.

You should be careful

She writes on her notepad and he nods.

I can't see in 3d like others.

He writes back.

If you speak slowly I can read your lips. . I mean you don't have to write to respond

He nods in understanding and she smiles at him. And he smiles back. And it's a first smile in a long while, a small smile that lasts a long while.

So everyday little by little she guides him where the slopes are where the flowers are (because in this school they had textured walls and scented herbs and flowers so that the kids have easier time figuring out their class rooms on the basis of scents and touch)

One day they are sitting together eating when he sees her talking in sign language.

Teach me

She nods. And then everyday little by little he learns to speak to her. By touch, by taps, and maybe he's taking advantage of the situation and you know he shamelessly is. Calling it their secret language. He holds her hands.

One squeeze for yes. Two for no. And three for I love you.

And the fourth for I love you too.

He thinks she can tell. When they're out at the mall and he holds her hands claiming he can't see properly and he needs her to guide him.

He's allowed to have this advantage atleast.

So she takes him and he follows. Because really for her he'd go wherever. As long as they were together.

He can't tell who confesses first. He can't remember who kisses first just the tang of strawberry lip tint makes him smile cause really. How can someone be so perfect.

And then he becomes greedy all the time ceaselessly touching tapping pinching... till she playfully shoves him away pretending to be angry.

They come to take photos in the photo film booth to mark their year of togetherness(the happiest year of his life(sorry grandma he apologises to his grandma promising to put extra strawberries in her memorial this year)).

He pulls her closer. And she melts into him. And really he couldn't be happier. He pulls out a ring asking her to marry him. And he's glad he chose the moment because now her surprised face sits on their side table. And she's tried getting rid of it. But he won't let it happen. He wants all of her the bad the good the ugly the beautiful the stubborn the sweet the soft the sour everything until the very end .

I look ugly

Is it possible for the most beautiful girl to look ugly?

He signs and kisses her.

Dearest darling my universe.

.

.

And Taehyung believes he's cursed. He has to be because there is no other way to explain what happens next.

He's never paid much attention to news. He never has had time for it. It's nonsense most of it he thinks. Until the government declared to save the planet they'll eliminate the defects.

Defects. . .

.

.

.

Their cozy home was destroyed. It felt now like a dream he had conjured to keep himself safe, if not for the sound of Jieun breathing and her head on his lap as she rested.

She's so beautiful.

Even with the scars and dirty clothes and her bones that become prominent as there keeps being lesser food to scavenge.

She reaches out to him. He smiles at her as she wakes. He can't see her clearly but she is all He can ever see.

He know there situation has made her more frustrated. She wants to call out his name but instead she digs her nails into him. That's her way of screaming.

He still remembers the day their old safe house was discovered in the mayhem he'd lost sight of her and the crowd pushed her away.

I lost you I almost lost you.

And with the fear thudding in his heart he didn't know how to comfort her.

He knows not many people are left. It really doesn't matter. What matters is they can have one more moment together. Stay together a just a little longer. Cause he's not quite ready to loose her. He never will be.

They still have hope that their old safe house is safe, praying once the cubes are done with their work they'll move on to a different target because surely they won't search the same place again.

It's a flimsy hope. But hope all the same.

Their safe house is the same mall they had their first dates on.

But nothing was the same, infact it was entirely different.

They both were tired. He could tell. Their conversation had dissipated to save energy for survival.

Until they found the camcorder. It was an old model. And somehow the charging remained. It had a soft filter mode. And through its lens everything looked more dreamy. Perhaps all this was a bad dream. And they'd wake up and everything will be alright again.

Kim Taehyung-ssi would you like to say anything to the camera

"I would. Actually I'm on My way to propose my beautiful girlfriend and we're going on a date tonight. So wish me luck."

She smiled. He took the camcorder from her.

"Let's go. We'll be late for our reservation."

So off they went to play pretend in the finest restaurant of the mall.

Taehyung pulled out a ring he'd stolen earlier when she wasn't looking. At least he hoped she wasn't. (But she was... Always looking at him. Her eyes couldn't settle elsewhere and when he smoothly (or so he thought) pocketed the ring she suppressed a giggle pretending not to notice)

Will you marry me?

She squeezes his hand.

Yes

He laughs lifting her spinning her around.

I saw a dress shop on third floor.

He tells her excited. And she takes his hand and off they go. Through the shadows and the flickering lights. They reach the fancy wedding boutique. Trying on different dresses and suits.

Taehyung remembers asking her, back when things were different. In another cozy afternoon on their soft bed as he played with her hair.

How would you like our wedding to be?

I would want to invite everyone and have fun. To dance and sing and be merry.

To sing?

He asks curious.

My friend told me you had a lovely voice. I'm jealous I can't hear it.

So Taehyung had gone and recorded his voice and turned it into beats so she could enjoy it.

And maybe it wasn't a wedding she dreamed of but it was a wedding. Because what more did a wedding need than a groom and a bride who loved each other.

Laughing, playing around, slow dancing in each others arms as if they had all the time in the world. Looking in the mirror like it's a portrait as the camcorder captures the dreamy glow in their faces.

Should we go see our photobooth?

Taehyung only smiles in return.

So they go through the debris as her dress trails through the dirt. And like a miracle it's still there up and running.

So they both sit, squeezing into the booth. As the lights flashes. He squeezes her hand thrice and she squeezes it four times in response.

Jieun gets out excited to see how the photos have turned out and Taehyung watches his lovely bride. She turns to show him the photos and that's when she sees it. The cube.

The sentinel being that has ruined their live. Their future, their hopes and dreams all shattered.

She drags him away and he follows. She thinks she's escaped it when she sees another. It dawns on her that the only way to escape is to go through the center of the mall. Through the grave of clothes.

She runs and runs but it's too late. It has seen them.

And it's in front of them.

Instinctively she picks up a pipe from the ground easy to fight to defend.

Taehyung sees her and takes it from her ready to defend to protect. Pouring all his rage and frustration into hitting it.

But the cube remains unscathed.

All Taehyung can think of is that it can't end like this. He's not ready to let her go. But when rage is gone despair remains. He feels her hold him. He's wrapped in her arms trembling like he's a child again. She covers his eyes in her last attempt to protect it and he can swear he heard her say I love you

.

.

.

And then nothing.

Tumblr deleted the last part I wrote earlier TT from the proposal part if its weird that's why I'm sorry I tried.. but I hope it turned out ok. Ugh its so irritating.

Permanent Masterlist: @mintsugarmy : @cryingpages : @exfolitae

[9tzuyu]

dissolve (rewrite)

natasha x reader

note: this was just a huge vent fic idk. these type of fics seem to be the only thing im okay at writing. mistakes are mine as always. but i did proofread, yay!

if you want to read the original (as awful as it is) you can read it here!

wanrings: this heavily revolves around eating disorders.

i’m not tagging anyone because the content isn’t really the lightest to read.

words are used everyday, everywhere – whether to describe something or someone. there’s thousands upon thousands of them.

so you were having a hard time figuring out why you were struggling so much to justify your feelings through the basis of words. it was unnerving, draining and very annoying. your emotions should be simple, right? you were either sad or happy, angry or scared. but there was something more, something unexplainable. saying you felt alone only scratched the surface of the wave of emotion that took over. it was excruciatingly painful, far worse than any physical pain you ever had to endure. and for some reason it seemed to come crashing down at night while natasha slept peacefully. you weren't exactly sure how to express your emotions to the extent you felt them. how else was anyone supposed to understand your pain? they couldn't, not unless they could somehow shift into your body and feel your emotions themselves. but that was merely impossible as such powers do not exist. so you were inevitably stuck with words foreign to your lips. over the years you were deemed unsafe, a hazard, "an accident waiting to happen" you recall one doctor say. everyone’s eyes were on you at all times, monitoring every little movement you made. it was suffocating and at times doing more damage than good.

as an adult now you learned how freeing it could be without the fear of gaining weight or eating a bowl full of rainbow marshmallow cereal. your worth was not defined by your weight.

(at least that's what you believed prior to any relapses.) everything was going well in your life. you were a college graduate working as a psychiatric nurse and you had found love, something your teenage self could only dream of. natasha was by your side through everything. and really, the only downfall in the relationship was that she had to travel a lot for her job. but you were secure enough in your relationship not to worry or decide to call things off. in the end natasha always made up for it when she came back, so you couldn't complain too much. things were going well for you, really, they were. until they weren't. (and you didn't know why.) it happened out of nowhere. work was a little more stressful than usual, but it was nothing you couldn't handle. natasha had been away for three months, only stopping by a few times to check in on you. but again, your wife being away for so long wasn't anything new or worrisome. the two of you had followed the routine of her leaving and coming back more than a thousand times; yet somewhere along the way you lost yourself. food became less of a priority, your hunger decreased drastically, and within the first month you'd lost thirteen pounds. it truly was an accident, slipping into a full blown relapse was never part of the plan. but thirteen pounds lighter you wanted more, to feel small again. you didn't have an answer as to why you became so attached to your eating disorder, but it didn't seem like it would be letting go any time soon. the rate at which you were going natasha would most definitely be able to see a difference; not only on your weight, but in the person you once were. she'd ask what happened and why it happened, poking and prodding for an answer, but you didn't have one. so here you stood in the kitchen of your shared home, a cup of sliced fruit in one hand and your cell phone in the other. you poured the fruit into the bottom of a blender along with a spoonful of yogurt and half a cup of soy milk. another half cup of ice followed suit. while the fruit blended, you shamelessly scrolled through your instagram. there was nothing interesting going on in other people's lives, you didn't even know why you had social media in the first place. it was dumb, and quite frankly you didn't give a shit whether or not sharon went to the beach. the sound of your blender coming to a halt brought your attention back to the real world. you poured your smoothie into your water bottle. the green liquid would be your breakfast and lunch for the day - dinner was still up for debate. a soft sigh left your lips. work was beginning to feel more like a chore and less of something you enjoyed. you were quickly growing tired of it. nonetheless, you grabbed your keys and rushed out of the door.

you thought about the irony of working as a psychiatric nurse with an undealt eating disorder telling teenagers how to deal with their own issues. you felt hypocritical to say the least, especially given that all the nasty side effects were starting to make themselves known.

your hair was beginning to thin, small clumps of it already starting to fall out when you tugged a little too hard. bruises could be seen scattered left and right on your body, and you were cold. god you were cold. your fingernails were tinted blue, warmth seemingly too far out of reach. you looked ill, and it didn't go unnoticed by your coworkers.

a few hours into your shift you found yourself sitting behind the nurses station filling out paperwork. lunch had passed and when your coworker, steve, asked if you were going to eat something you lied straight through your teeth, telling him you'd grab something when the patients were eating dinner.

but steve rogers could read you like an open book. he knew you were lying because he already knew what was going on. the signs of an eating disorder were quite obvious when you were a licensed therapist. and despite your futile attempts at hiding it, everyone could tell something wasn't right.

steve played it by ear for weeks until he contacted natasha, but by then you'd already lost a considerable amount of weight. as soon as she heard the news, natasha booked the next flight home. unfortunately for her though, there was only one flight and she would have to wait two and a half weeks before being able to leave.

you didn't know it, but those were the longest two and a half weeks natasha ever had to wait.

– patients were having group therapy, so you could tune them out - not that you should, but it was hard to focus when the only two things you could think about were food and your weight.

the need to lose weight sounded so stereotypical for someone with an eating disorder, but honestly it wasn't about that. it was never about wanting to be thin. you genuinely didn't know why this was happening. the only thing you noticed was how rewarding it felt seeing the number go down, as if for you were good for becoming less. it was addictive. and it didn't help that you based your entire worth on how much you could lose.

the next time you stood up from behind the nurses station steve met you in the the cafeteria. while the patients ate you took occasional sips from your smoothie. the bottle was still full of its contents from the morning. you had completely forgotten to drink it during the day, but you didn't seem to mind it that much.

the surprise touch of steve's hand on your shoulder startled you.

i am gross, you thought. do not do that.

steve caught onto the slight flinch your body produced as a reflex, but he didn't say anything about it.

"you can leave early, boss said so."

he laughed as he saw confusion plaster your face.

"what? no!"

"go home, seriously. we have this handled. you know tony doesn't like being told no."

you bit your lip, puzzled by the sudden request. most people wouldn't mind being sent home early, but all it did for you was give you a level of anxiety reserved for food.

what you didn't know was that natasha was home waiting for your arrival. she came back just short of an hour after you left for work.

while you were gone natasha made a few thorough rounds in the house looking for key signs of your eating disorder. there was bound to be evidence given that you didn't know she was home.

unsurprisingly, natasha found a glass scale beside the counter of the bathroom floor along with empty bottles of laxatives in the trashcan. the food in the fridge had been expired a few days past their date, giving her the indication that you weren't eating as much as you should be. her concern grew even more when she found your food journal on your nightstand. flipping the pages, natasha could see that throughout the moths she'd been gone your calorie intake had decreased significantly.

guilt began to gnaw at the back of her throat.

during the few days natasha stopped by, she hadn't noticed anything wrong with you. but then again she knew most people with eating disorders were very good at hiding them up until the point they were discovered. three days wasn't near enough time for her to catch onto your tricks, not when her mind was still focused on her job.

natasha always listened intently whenever you would talk about your eating disorder, the first time being six months into the relationship on a date you felt like you had ruined.

but talking about it was much different than experiencing it with you, natasha had never done that before up until now. she read nearly every article there was about anorexia, bulimia, binge eating disorder and ednos. sometimes when you were asleep she would watch documentaries on the disorder, always making sure to keep her volume at a low level.

the videos that hurt her the most were the ones teenagers struggling with the simple task of eating food.

(although natasha knew it wasn't that simple.)

it hurt because she knew that was you at some point in time.

upon your arrival, natasha cooked dinner. she wanted to hold onto the one sliver of hope that steve was wrong - that he was just overreacting - but she knew in her heart he was right about his assumption. however, dinner would only confirm what natasha so desperately wanted to deny.

when you walked through the door you were greeted with the overwhelming scent of food. you cringed at the thought of having to eat, but as soon as you looked up to see the redhead who'd been gone for so long your frown was washed away. a wide smile overtook your face and you rushed to jump into natasha's arms.

"i missed you so much," you whispered. "i thought you'd be gone for another few weeks?"

natasha's arms found their way around your waist as your legs wrapped around hers. "what? i can't come home early to surprise my wife?" you giggled in the crook of her neck. she smiled feeling the vibrations against her skin, happy to know that you'd missed her just as much as she missed you.

she sat you down, back facing you, she tended to the food. "you've lost weight," she commented, not missing the sharp inhale of your breath.

"how was work, nat?"

she nodded to herself. yeah, she didn't expect you to be so open on the first try.

"it was fine. dinner's ready, i made your favorite!" natasha threw a smile in your direction as she carried the plates over to the table. she had hoped to see your face light up the way it used to, but seeing the panicked look in your eyes further confirmed your relapse.

if nothing else, natasha wanted you to have a meal before she brought up the conversation.

"great... i love it, thank you nat!" your attempt at being enthusiastic failed miserably and you knew by the look she gave you, she already knew what was going on.

but throughout the meal, and despite the shakiness of your hand as it gripped the metal fork, natasha didn't say anything.

you weren't really sure which was worse; being confronted or knowing the both of you knew what the other was thinking and still not addressing it.

natasha's meal was good, you couldn't lie about that, but each bite you chewed caused the tightening in your chest to constrict further.

now you couldn't be good. or worthy. or deserving.

nat took away your plate when you were halfway through. she knew your limits, and she didn't want to push you too much out of your comfort zone.

"go change, i'll wash our dishes. meet you on the couch?"

you did as you were told, taking as long as you could to do so. except this time was different. you didn't glance in the mirror like you usually did, you chose to fully take in your figure.

what you saw was not what you expected to see. for the first time in months you saw a version of yourself that wasn't twisted and turned to be something you didn't know was real or not.

your skin was dry, hair thinned out beyond your belief, eyes sunken and dark underneath. the revelation gave you an odd feeling – was once again something unexplainable, unjustifiable by words.

good.

that was how you were supposed to feel, right? after all of this time, after the many pounds of protection and warmth lost, you were supposed to feel good.

but you didn't. and you never would.

there was something so surreal about the realization of your own destruction. you were aware now, which meant you had to either take responsibility or choose to lose everything you worked so hard for.

"y/n?"

your wife's voice snapped you out of your gaze and you scrambled to pile your dirty clothes and rush out of the bedroom.

as you made your way into the living room you could feel the intensity of natasha's gaze. any other time you would not mind her green eyes looking at you, but this time around you felt like you were in trouble.

she patted the empty spot next to her, to which you reluctantly joined. but even after everything you still tried to play it cool.

"what's up? is everything okay?"

she gave a low chuckle, "you tell me."

"what do you mean?"

"oh i think you know what i mean."

natasha’s reply was met with the loudest silence you ever had to sit through.

she bit her lip, "you know i got a call from steve a few weeks ago. he's concerned about you, and from what he's told me so am i."

you were quick to respond, automatically knowing what steve’s phone call was about. "i'm fine. so what if i've lost a couple of pounds? that doesn't automatically mean that im relapsing, natasha."

your quick snap reminded natasha that this kind of confrontation was like walking on eggshells.

she tilted her head, licking her lips. "i'm here with you, always." nat put a hand to the side of your face, gently rubbing her thumb at the top of your cheekbone. "i'm here."

it seemed pointless now to try and say anything because your secret was already out.

your mind began racing back and forth.

you wanted to keep what you knew best and natasha understood that. even by reading your body language she knew what you were debating.

"you know, to keep it you have to give it away." your eyes darted to meet hers. "mhm. you can still have that piece of you. mourn it, grieve it, do whatever you need to do to move onto a stage where it doesn't hurt you. and from there you can help other people, share your experience, let yourself heal by helping others."

she paused, “we all have choices. some of those choices are taken from you while others leave you with only one option.”

although what she said seemed to resonate with you, there was one thing still holding you back.

"i just want to be good."

natasha hummed. you had explained it to her in the past, though your words were jumbled together as you tried to describe it.

"you can be good in other ways. you're allowed to live a life outside of the barriers your eating disorder puts in the way."

you swallowed the lump in the back of your throat. "i don't even know how it got to this point. in january i enjoyed ihop and dennys. in february i could have oatmeal and bananas, sometimes half of a sandwhich if i was feeling brave. now it’s march and i only eat one or two things a day. the idea of having a full meal makes me want to cry. and i just- i don't know how to stop."

natasha wouldn't show it, but your words cut through her heart like a knife. her mind wandered briefly to all the teenagers in the documentaries she'd watched, hoping you weren't too far gone into your eating disorder to ever come back. those cases scared her the most.

"you've got my complete support. you've tackled this before, maybe this time you can beat it? i know its easier to abuse your body instead of growing comfortable in it, but i think you’ve got this. i know you do."

"what about your work?" your question caused natasha to frown. "you think i wouldn't set my job aside for you?" you shrugged, it's not like you felt like you were worth being taken care of anyway.

natasha grew hesitant to tell you her news, but did it anyway because she’d rather you hate her than see you dead. "i've already made some appointments for you. the first one is tomorrow morning."

"i figured you would natasha. it's okay."

you spaced yourself out the rest of the day. each time you made the executive decision to recover, whether that be a genuine recovery or not, the process never failed to remind you that even trying to recover from an eating disorder felt like mourning the loss of a friend who was never good for you in the first place.

[kuronanox]

Not enough - Byakuya Kuchiki

It amazed her that thee Kuchiki Byakuya was actually interested in her, it was so surreal. Everything came naturally, their conversations and body language was like they were in tune together. Everyone could see that he was finally finding some type of peace after hisana's passing. Everyone but the royal and noble housing even after hisana's passing they blame it on her being a commoner and now the horrible treatment was getting thrown at (Your Name) now.

No one has ever verbally abused her infront of Byakuya but when he was gone they talked down and degraded her. She would just ignore them and go on about her day. The first few months  were fine because no one knew they were dating but once the relationship started getting serious and she moved into the Kuchiki manor the negative comments came left and right into her head. Of course she didn't tell Byakuya and most of the time she stayed closed to him so she wouldn't have to hear the abusing comments.

It was another fall morning as they strolled around the manor getting fresh air. "What is your favorite season (Your Name)." Byakuya ask calmly as they walked side by side admiring the green plants and flowers turning a beautiful autumn red. "Hmm the time between fall and winter, it's never to cold or hot!" She smiles and grabs his arm gently as she hugs it as they continue striding around the manor. Of course as nobles showing affection wasn't allowed but she didn't care and as long as she was happy Byakuya didn't mind the gesture either. "I see." He replies as it turns to a comfortable silence between them.

"Have you talked to rukia recently?" She brings up looking at him now with worried eyes. "Of course, she's doing fine with the human substitute shinigami in the world of living right now." He answers reassuring her their relationship as gotten better by time.

"Hmm someone has gotten soft." She jokes and squeezes him tightly as he eyes widen a little bit and he softly smiles without her knowing of course, but the hug gets cut short as she sees a few elders walking towards them as she quickly pulls away from the affection and awkwardly bow and stays behind Byakuya. The elders speak to him about important matters about the Kuchiki house and he exchanges a few words. Byakuya looks at (Your Name) and he recently began to notice that her reitsu would fluctuate everytime she was around a royal or noble that didn't allow their relationship. Cutting the conversation short he gently grabs her hands with his and walks past the elders.

She looks at their hands and blushes softly. This was the first time he had ever showed affection towards her infront of anyone. "I'm sorry you don't have to do that... you know. I know the nobles don't like it." She starts loosening her grip now as his tighten. "When has that ever stopped you?" He asks now curious.

Byakuya knew she was always a loud mouth and her manners were certainly not presentable to other nobles. She liked to show her curves, didn't like wearing fancy clothes, did her own chores and curses a whole bunch, but for some reason that made him like her even more when they first met each other. Byakuya liked her because she possessed all the qualities he didn't have or wasn't allowed to do because it was unacceptable for the head of the clan to have.

"I know it's just, I don't want people to talk... you know." She sadly says and walks ahead a few steps before he silently follows her. "Oh I'm going out with Matsumoto tonight, girls night!" She smiles now changing the mood between them now.

"YEAH AND THEN THE OLD BITCH HAD THE NERVE TO TELL ME THAT I WAS FAT AND MY FACE WAS TO BIG! AND IM LIKE AT LEAST IM NOT WALKING CLOSER TO MY GRAVE EACH DAY!" (Your Name) screams to Matsumoto, Nanao and Hinamori.

"She didn't!" Hinamori exclaims covering her mouth like a gossip girl.

"She did honey!"

"Ugh nobles, thats why you gotta go for the ugly guys and then you make them hot." Matsumoto shakes her head and pours another shots for them. Nanao facepalms and says "Everytime we meet up they always have something negative to say, why not just tell Kuchiki taicho?"

"Fuck that, I'm so tired of having to filter myself at the manor too! LIKE I WANT TO SCREAM FUCK, SHIT, BITCH BUT I CANT!"

Hinamori just laughs as Matsumoto takes the shot and nods furiously!

"Jesus." Nanao says just giving up.

"But you do anything for the one you love." (Your Name) softly says taking shot number 7. "Same." Matsumoto sulks as they both start crying together.

"So I'm guessing we are walking them home again." Nanao says as Hinamori just happily pour more shots for the two girls sulking across from her.

(Your name) safely gets back to the manor with the help of Hinamori, she was drunk but she was still able to recognize and act like she was normal. "Will Kuchiki taicho be upset that you drank a lot?"

"Nah, he's probably asleep anyways, thank you I'll take my leave now!" She smiles and gets into the manor.

Although it was hard to act sober she took her time to walk into their bedroom. There were still some maids and servants doing some choirs so she avoided them at all cost so she didn't look like a fool to them and ruin Byakuya image. Turning the corner to their room one of the oldest head maid was taking out the tea pot from the place.

"Drunk again I see." She sternly says with hatred in her eyes as (Your Name) just ignores the comment and proceeds to go into the room. The old lady prohibits her from entering. "You won't go in."

"Move or I'll move you myself." (Your Name) threaten to the lady as she doesn't bulge.

"You are only here because Byakuya Sama allows you to stay, but to everyone else in this house you bring disgrace and tarnish our name. You are a vulgar lady with no manners and inconsiderate, rude and foul mouth."

Byakuya stirs in his sleep waking up from talking coming out from infront of his room.

"And? I'm a hundred percent sure he knows how I am already, why do you care how I am. Yes I'm a commoner-" (Your Name) proceeds to argue but the older maids interrupts with a statement that broke her self confidence.

"At least Hisana Sama didn't go around and tarnish the name, she was lady like and knew how to contain herself unlike you."

(Your Name) hesitantly eyes widen she was sadden, no one had ever talked about Hisana. Behind closed door she was always being compared, she knew but no one was going to compare (Your Name) to another person let alone a past lover.

"You know, I get we are two different person but I'm sure she wouldn't have approve of you talking down about commoners because we know the struggle of having to act perfect all the time and keeping a imagine so we don't look bad for the family name. You wouldn't know old lady because you've never been discriminated. I know damn well everyday we tried our best for Byakuya and I'm glad she is in a better place and not down here where she would have still gotten the same treatment as me."

Byakuya had enough of the arguing as he swiftly gets out of the futon and towards the door before he stops when he hears (Your Name) continuing to defend him.

"If you ever wonder why Byakuya always act so cold is probably because he has to act perfect for the family and he carries the burden of our imagine and you guys give him shit for every little thing he does but he sucks it up because he was taught to. You guys don't see the sleepless nights he gets and the fights he put up to protect his people he loves. I won't stand here letting you talk down about me and his relationship when he has been the happiest since the death of his late wife. I won't let you take away his happiness. You guys think you know him but y'all don't know a thing. Weather you like it or not I'm leaving." (Your Name) passionately says to the old women as she angrily spoke up.

"You jus-"

Byakuya roughly opens the door to see a flushed (Your Name) and the head maid standing face to face. The maid not allowing her to enter the room. "That's enough, leave now." He harshly tells the head maid as she bows and apologize as she gives a sour look towards the girl before leaving.

There was an awkward silence in the air as she looks down and speaks. "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't be talking to the elders like that. I just got frustrated. I'll sleep at Matsumoto place tonight." She offered proceeding to walk away.

Byakuya grabs her hands and place them with his as he kisses her forehead and pulls her into a hug. "Why haven't you told me anything?" He asks as she calmly hugs him back and tears fall down. "You know I would have said something if you would have just communicate to me."

(Your Name) doesn't say anything as he rubs her back and leads her into bed with him. "I fell in love with you because of how you are, you don't have to act anymore." He proceeds to says as she gently nods.

Byakuya softly smiles and kisses her forehead again. "We deal with this together my love."

[hellsbellschime]

hey, i'm from croatia and i thought i might tell you a couple of sexist things i had to deal with in my life. i didn't think that funerals could be sexist but i guess i was wrong. first the priest talks a bit then men start walking towards the grave, then the coffin with family right behind and then women. i get that now thats a custom but i cant believe that in past they had to make funerals sexist and make women walk last. was that really necessary?

cro again. my mum literally works all day. and now before christmas i had exams, one on 23. we have a rule that we would clean the whole house. so i didnt have time to clean much and told my dad that he has to clean a bit and ofcourse he didnt. so i complained to my grandma and she just went well what do you expect hes a man, clean yourself. what i exepect is help from a person that lives in the house and not a sexist respond from a women, its really messed up. mom didnt even bother asking him

in cro on (family) gatherings or parties its always men who talk loud and women are mostly quiet listening what they dont care about, sometimes talk quitely together but later give up because men are too loud. woman whos the host is barely there because she will spend the whole time in the kitchen making food, coffee and washing the dishes. and then they complain that women never shut up and are too loud. im disgusted by how much sexism i now see everywhere and how noone seems bothered by it

there are WAY more examples but im too angry now to write them and dont have the space for it. in cro women are so use to it that they just ignore it and dont even realize it, and will be sexist towards other women which bothers me the most. men went so far that they even pinned women against each other and instead of fighting it we just go along with it and i hate how i can see everything and cant do anything about it. just have to suffer witnessing sexism everyday everywhere. im so tired of it

oh yeah i forgot some lyrics from songs. "don't ever stop even when i tell you to" and yes she means it in that way. different song "do to me the things i want and the things i don't " and another one "i love being with you even when you're cheating on me" great message they're sending to young women and men

Jesus CHRIST how do you not lose your mind?! Don’t get me wrong, the US is pretty much a cesspool or sexism but at least it’s being more acknowledged and talked about now. Honestly I’m obviously a hardcore feminist but I’m also just too arrogant to deal with people being that shitty to me, like if some asshole dude who was an obvious moron treated me like crap I really wouldn’t handle it well.

[9tzuyu]

children of tragedy (rewrite)

note: heyo, rewriting an old fic of mine. i hope to be able to rewrite all 5 chapters quickly. if you guys don’t like it, i won’t continue because its kinda dark and idk i feel like no ones gonna like it anyways. please leave feedback though, im on my knees begging for validation. also sorry if its ooc, please forgive me.

++ sorry the beginning reveals how rusty my writing is </3

(*** i wrote this as as a fem reader fic because it worked easier with how i wrote things.)

+ please remember that this is purely a way to get out my own feelings/struggles in a healthy way. also i’m sure this works better as a ship fic, but someone asked for this version so yeah :).

** mistakes are mine im too tired and lazy to proofread right now.

warnings: talk of alcohol abuse, slight mention of domestic abuse.

🏷 @peggycarter-steverogers

ch.2 | ch.3

[love, fragility, and the memories that eat us alive.]

meeting wanda changed everything for you. she wasn't like anyone you’d ever known. she was always kind, never quick to lose her temper or scream and yell at you for things you couldn't possibly control. she was warm, tender with everything she did.

your relationship with her was very new to you. it was much different in comparison to your past experiences — and you weren't quite sure what to think of it. there was no doubt that you appreciated her and everything she did for you, but you were still waiting for her to snap. it was almost like a need burning throughout your body. being able to grasp the idea that someone could ever really, truly be gentle with you was out of the question. in turn, you’d push all of her buttons, hoping that she would get mad enough and get it over with.

no one could really fault you for it. the steady stream of abuse was the nearly the entirety of your life, both physical and mental.

lately wanda was having to pick you up from wherever she could find you, most of the time in the alleyways of of bars you’d been kicked from.

once you were drunk enough (anyone really) you weren’t afraid to say the first thing that came to your mind, offensive or not – which meant it was no surprise when you’d been involved in fights. the alcohol numbed a majority of the pain anyway, so didn’t really make much of a difference to you.

with this happening so many times, you figured wanda would be angry with you – perhaps so angry she would find it within her to hit you. but each and every time wanda brought you home, she made sure you were comfortable before tending to your inuries.

what you didn't know was that being so worried for you all the time, every second of everyday, was beginning to take a toll on her. wanda only wanted to fix you, but you were making it more than difficult for her to do that.

she knew very little about your past, simply because you didn't like talking about it and she didn't want to push. but there was no denying the fact that wanda was curious.

sometimes she would ask questions, only between the soft moments the both of you shared. much to her dismay, most of her curiosities were turned down. on the rare occasions you shared brighter memories of your childhood, wanda would bookmark them in the back of her head.

no harm would ever come from her, but you didn’t know that. at least not right now.

too many times had your exes used the trust you’d so politely given against you. to be fair with wanda though, you shared only the brightest parts of your childhood. they were very seldom, but the ones you could remember were the ones you enjoyed talking about the most. 

despite her limited knowledge, it wasn’t hard for her to tell that you’d already been hurt plenty of times before. apart from the fact that wanda was overall truly a good person, it made her even more gentle with you than she’d ever been with anyone before. 

on top of that, wanda wasn’t stupid. she picked up on every little flinch you tried to hide, or the times you had to ask her if it was okay if you could do something on your own free will, and she definitely didn’t forget about the countless times you berated yourself over small, humanly mistakes. a frown never failed to decorate her face when these things happened. 

wanda tried her hardest to make it known how much she loved you, and how she would never intentionally hurt you. she never once lifted a hand on you or raised her voice in the slightest, even when she felt like she’d met a breaking point.

the last few weeks seemed to be putting more stress on her than usual. the gashes on your body seemed to be cutting deeper and the bruises on your jaw and rib cage were beginning to turn a darker shade of indigo as each fight became more aggressive. your knuckles had been swollen, irritated to the point your hands trembled when your palms were held open.  

you completely missed how drastically wanda’s mood had changed. she became quiet, seemingly lost in thought most of the time until she needed to take care of you. she grew tired, a purple tint claiming a spot below the lip of her eyes. fifteen pounds of weight had shredded from her body and her head grew dizzy every time she stood up. none of that mattered to wanda though, you were her number one priority.

alcohol was the biggest issue in the way. if wanda could get you to stop drinking for just one night she might be able to reason with you. 

the brunette knew that was out of the question though, because she knew no matter how many times she told or expressed her love for you, you wouldn’t stop until you wanted to, not when she wanted you to. 

you never allowed yourself to be vulnerable around her, so she never knew how you truly felt about the things going wrong in your life. there was an unbearable amount of pain when it came to confronting what you tried so hard to push away. the idea of allowing yourself to heal, to mourn the things taken away from you caused a lump in the back of your throat. living in denial was the easiest way to cope - that was as long as you could bear the damage it created.

 (and whether wanda knew it or not, knowing that you were causing her so much misery was the worst feeling you’d ever faced. all she had ever given you was love and in return she was met with destruction.)

so once again you found yourself walking alone, a slight stagger between steps. it was cold, each breath exhaled from your lips could be seen vaporizing into the air. every movement ripped what balance you thought you’d gained right out from underneath you. the feeling of numbness in your fingertips brought your attention away from the fact that you didn’t know where you were. 

the buildings all looked familiar, but everything was hazy. being drunk wasn’t always the fun everyone bragged about. too tired to carry on, you found yourself slumped in the back of an alleyway next to a dirty garbage bin. it reeked of sour, expired food, but you’d given up on caring about anything else other than trying to drink yourself numb. 

your mind began to wander. flashes of early mornings with wanda’s hands wrapped around your waist, breath tickling the back of your neck while the sun began to rise started filling your thoughts. the warm feeling wanda gave you outweighed every bad emotion you could possibly think of.

but as you stared at the ground beneath your feet things began to spiral. your throat contracted, the guilt you tried so hard to swallow began clawing its way out of your body.

(and holy fuck you could not deal with this right now.)

you curled your head between your legs in an attempt to shield yourself away from something that was born from the inside.

it was too much.

without a chance to stop what was happening, your stomach began heaving. a mix of bile and alcohol drooled from your mouth as you continued to vomit.

you missed the sound of footsteps coming from behind you. the feeling of a hand on your shoulder caused you to jerk back, slamming your back into the brick wall.

“hey, hey, it’s me. you’re okay. it’s just me, wanda.” she cooed.

through teary eyes, you looked up at the woman in front of you.

she’s your girlfriend.

(but you weren’t sure that you deserved to call her that after everything you’ve put her through.)

“what are you doing here?” your voice wavered as you wiped your mouth free of excess vomit. you sniffled backing away from her.

she tilted her head, desperate to read what your eyes would give away. “i’m here to bring you back home. can you stand up for me?” you shook your head. you were too exhausted and dizzy from the alcohol to even think about standing.

“that’s okay,” she whispered. “here, i’m going to pick you up, okay? wrap your arms around my neck and your legs around my hips.”

“mkay.” your speech was still slurred, but at that point all wanda cared about was getting you home safe.

you didn’t remember the ride home or wanda carrying you out of the car to lay you on the couch. by the time she got the supplies she needed to wrap and tend to your wounds, you were completely passed out.

when you woke up you were greeted with a glass of water and an over the counter pain medication. you swallowed the pills and moved to set the glass on the coffee table, but wanda beat you to it and took it out of your hands. she smiled down at you, taking a seat next to you. she tucked your hair behind your ears, giving your face one last gentle stroke.

thats when you noticed her eyes were red.

you immediately sat up, crossing your legs and moved closer to her. you’d hoped to comfort her somehow, but the shake of her head broke sonething inside you.

you bit your lip, anxiety shooting throughout your body. she sensed your nervousness and took your hands in hers, rubbing circles on the outside of your wrist with her thumbs.

“i love you, you know that. at least i hope you do,” she let out a soft laugh. “but i can’t keep doing this.”

your heart dropped, and you could feel the all too familiar feeling of guilt building its way back up. you tried to speak, but wanda cut you off.

“i need you to hear this.”

when you didn’t respond she took the opportunity to continue saying what she needed to get out.

“i have exhausted myself to a breaking point. i can’t keep worrying about you every single night you’re gone. i can’t be there every time you need saving. i’m losing myself.”

she paused to check and see how you were handling her words. for once you weren’t shutting down. you were genuinely trying to process what she was trying to say.

(and she was so proud of you for that. she almost considered giving you another chance. but she knew for the better, she couldn’t do that. not to you, not to her.)

“i’ve packed your things. you can leave tomorrow morning if you wish, i don’t mind having you for another meal or two.”

she squeezed your hands and got up from the couch, allowing you to take in what she said. it was in that moment when you realized that even when she’d finally drawn the line, had enough, she didn’t yell at you. she wasn’t angry, she was just sad.

you were chasing after something that wasn’t there, and it never would be there.

and now you were able to register just how much you’d fucked up the one good thing in your life.