#makes me appreciated the condition i was in a couple months ago
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themistyfootprints · 9 months ago
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My foster doggo moved to her new home on Wednesday, and I got my boys back home. This weekend has been spent cuddling the cats, doing yard work, and working out. I am slowly and, hopefully, steadily getting back to running after a month long break. It's going to take time to get back to where I was, but I'll just take it one day at a time. Maybe in a month or so I'll dare to dream about running adventures and goals again. I really hope so.
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joelmillergirl · 5 days ago
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Hot n' Cold
Word count: 4,898
Warnings: oral sex (f receiving), piv, unprotected sex, creampie, hard/passionate sex, cowboy🤠
Authors Note: It was hot, I wrote smut, what do you want from me.
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︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
You had your curtains drawn, shielding your house from the violent light outside. It was officially Summer, and you were already hating it. 
Summer had always been your least favourite season, even before the outbreak when you had better access to fans and coolers. Now, finding a fan that wasn’t rusted and broken was rare, a reality you tried hardest not to think about.
You had resorted to laying down on your kitchen tiles, limbs spread out lazily in almost a desperate attempt to cool off. You prayed that someone here in Jackson would be able to get the old air conditioning units working, but given it had been a year of trial and error, you weren’t feeling too hopeful. 
With a huff, you sluggishly lift up your arm, checking the time on your old watch. It was just getting into the evening, and with no sign of the heat dimming down just yet, you accepted defeat. 
With no energy to do anything, you decided then and there that the rest of your day would look the same, you laying on your floor until it cooled down enough so you’d be able to have a decent amount of sleep. Your plans, however, were rudely interrupted by knocking at your front door. 
You lift your head up slightly, eyes training past your living room to the front entrance, “Are you fucking kidding me?” You groan, seeing a blurry figure waiting through the stained glass next to your door. 
Only when three more knocks echoed through the house did you grudgingly pull yourself up, almost limping to the front door due to your lack of energy. You were frowning when you opened the door, face to face with your closest friend. 
“I know.” Joel nodded, looking almost smug at your unamused expression. “How you handlin’ it?” 
If even possible, your face contorted further into a frown, shaking your head slightly at him. “I’m sweating from places I don’t even feel comfortable naming.” You deadpanned, biting your lip to smother a smile. 
Joel hummed, his eyes quickly raking over your figure before coming back to rest on your face, “Tommy’s got people working on getting the units workin’” 
You interrupt him, “Okay… Joel? Inside, please. The heat is literally hitting me on the face and I’m about to just lose my cool.” 
With a nod, he stepped inside the border of your house, gently closing the door behind him. “Do you even have any cool to lose?” He joked.
You glare at him for a moment before going back to your kitchen, slumping down on the floor. “They’ve been trying to get them to work for ages, I will go out there myself and get them to work if I do not hear that thing running anytime soon.” You point to the air conditioning unit in the living room. 
“They’ll get it sorted. Don’t think they particularly appreciate workin’ in this weather fixing somethin’.” He said, groaning as he sat down adjacent to you, head leaning back against your fridge. 
He suddenly frowned, looking over his shoulder slightly at the fridge behind him, then he was up, knees cracking beneath him as he moved to where you were, nudging you out the way. You looked at him confused. He nudged his head towards the fridge, “Go sit there.” 
You complied, moving to sit where Joel had been, an instant flush of cool hit the back of your neck. “Dammit, why didn’t I think of this.” You mutter, pressing your back against the cold steel.
“Heat‘s messin’ with ya, huh?” Joel chuckled, tilting his head slightly. You shake your head in response, gently closing your eyes and untensing your limbs. 
You met Joel four years ago when Tommy had introduced you to him. He’d just arrived at Jackson, and you’d been assigned to be his patrol partner which was only supposed to last a couple months, but you’d been such a good duo, Maria had decided to make it permanent. 
Over the past couple months though, your relationship with him had seemingly changed. With recent struggles brewing between him and Ellie, you seemed to always be by his side, for his comfort but also your own. You didn’t always have to talk with him, a lot of the time you’d sit comfortably next to each other, doing your own thing whilst he strummed on his guitar.
The boundary line was ever so slowly becoming blurred, feelings becoming confusing. But like a lot of topics that required confrontation, you push it to the back of your mind, adopting the quote; out of sight out of mind. 
“What’s got that head worked up?” Joel mumbled in front of you, dragging your mind back to reality. 
You looked at him for a moment, blinking slowly. “Nothing.” You plainly say, smiling at him gently before closing your eyes again. 
The next day wasn’t any better. 
The air conditioning still wasn’t working and your tactic of closing the curtains to deflect the heat, was now failing. Rather than lying on your tiles, moping all day, you had resorted to hanging out in The Tipsy Bison, a cozy makeshift bar in the middle of Jackson. 
The only reason you’d packed up the courage to be in such a social setting was due to the cold drinks offered there and most importantly, it had a big fan mounted to the wall that actually worked. It was a step up from how hot you were yesterday, and the drink in your hand was helping to cool your skin. 
The leather next to you sunk as someone sat down in the empty booth you were sitting at. You turn your head to your left, coming face to face with Tommy; Joel’s younger brother. “Hi,” He smiled, “Fuckin’ steamin’ out there.” 
You raise your eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, “Steaming?” 
“Yeah.” Tommy nodded, leaning over to peer into your glass, “Some people are out there, sweatin’ their gooch off, trynna get air working for lazy folks like you.” 
A pair of women next to your booth look over at his words, eyeing you and Tommy down. You quickly look away. “Can you not speak like that in public?” You huff, close to speechless. 
Tommy laughs loudly, finding himself hilarious, but suddenly his demeanour changes and he turns to you with a serious look. “So… How’s Joel?” 
You look at him for a moment before answering, “He’s your brother, ask him yourself.” You’re silent for a second before you smile, “Why’re you here bothering me? Go get the air working.” 
He shakes his head, a smile spread wide across his face, "Just have to get out the heat for a fuckin, minute. Saw you here... Haven't talked for a while."
"And the first thing you wanna do is ask how your brother is?" You ask, tilting your head slightly at him.
He looks away from you, sucking in a breath, "Feisty."
“Tommy, if it’s not cold in my house tomorrow I’m gonna kill you.” You warn, a warm breeze filing through the cracks of the windows.
"Jesus, woman." Tommy says, shaking his head slightly, “Venom.” He stands up and adjusts his jeans, “Every word you spit at me is laced with venom.” 
You laugh gently, gesturing your head towards the front door, "Go work some more." You watch as he walks away, an unexplainable pit in the bottom of your stomach. You avoid the stares coming from the booth again.
People talked a lot in Jackson. Usually it was all rumours, secret words whispered behind a hand as you walked by, it brought a sense of familiarity back, considering they were acting like they were in high school again. 
They noticed things, could see the little things, like how you and Joel were always together, seemingly always just alone. You supposed it gave them a sense of familiarity too, finally being able to talk about something other than the end of the world. 
Sometimes it made you feel good, knowing other people could see Joel was focused on you, watching as he turned down other women just to talk to you. Aside from the odd insult you’d hear every now and then, you weren’t bothered by the rumours. 
On your way home, you decided to stop by Joel’s. The side gate was unlocked, the hinges creaking quietly as it gently banged open and closed. Hot wind. Adding onto the heat. You could hear him before you saw him, the gentle strum of his guitar, a low hum. You round the corner, stopping by the edge of the house to watch him, a smile tugging at your lips. 
He sat in a chair he made himself on his back porch, he’d made you a set also, specialised carving in the wood. He had a leg crossed over the other, his foot jerking to the beat of the song he was playing, you vaguely recognise it being a Pearl Jam song. His hair’s getting longer, you can see the curls at the base of his neck, greying slightly.
You step up the little steps up to the porch, the floorboards under your feet creak, Joel flinches slightly, looking over at you. “Sorry,” You smile, brushing out the fabric of the dress you’d thrown on, “Keep playing.” 
He shakes his head slowly, gently lifting the guitar off his lap and placing it by his side, “No free shows here.” He smiles at you, leaning back in his chair. “So… Cooling ain’t on.” He’s trying to rile you up.
You roll your eyes, moving closer to him. “Don’t remind me.” A gust of warm wind blows past, a shiver of annoyance rushes through your veins. You move to the railing, the wood burns your hands for a second, having been exposed to the naked sun for so long. 
The chair creaks behind you, heavy boots thumped closer until he was standing beside you. You watched as he moved to grab onto the wood, he too flinched back slightly at the contact, you smile. “Ellie…” Joel starts, “Think she’s warming back up to me.”
“That’s good, Joel.” You can hear him breathing, deep and calm. He looks down at you and you look back, “I’m glad.” You add, stepping sideways slightly to bump into his side. You stayed at his house until the sun had set well past the horizon, different constellations appeared back into the clear, dark sky. Only then did you decide to go home, praying to yourself as you walked back that someone had fingers lucky enough to get some cold air working.
You’d always heard about ‘the third time, the lucky charm’, and you’d never given it much thought. But today, you decided you didn’t believe in it, because it was the third day of this mini heat wave, and it was even hotter. 
The sheets were damp beneath you when you woke up. Thin sheets, minimal clothing and the open window had done nothing to help aid the temperature; you were at your breaking point, further being pushed when you discovered the air conditioning had still not been fixed. 
You tried to remain grateful, understood that the people working on it had limited supplies, that they too had to endure the heat, and the pressure to get it done. Feeling bad for your frustration over something they could not control, you made some lemonade for them all, bringing over a jug and some empty cups to where they were stationed. A small good deed to redeem your attitude. 
“Fucking heat.” You mumbled to yourself, wiping your hands on your dress, stepping up to your front porch, reaching for your door. Before you could open it, someone cleared their throat behind you, making you jump. 
Joel laughed, moving up the stairs to meet you, “I scare you?” He looks down at you innocently, waiting for you to answer him, a little curl falls in front of his face. 
“Yes, Joel.” You huff, opening your door aggressively, “You scared me.” You step inside, waiting for him to walk in before closing the door. 
He shrugs off his shoes, leaving them by the entrance, “It’s actually cooler outside.” He points out, moving into your living room. 
“I don’t even want to think about that.” You shake your head, brushing past him to the kitchen, pouring two glasses of water. “Reckon we could sit out the back?”
Joel nods, gratefully taking his glass from your hand, “Lead the way.”
Your porch was small, a perfect size, filled with plants, two chairs and a little rug underneath. Joel went straight for his usual chair, sitting down with a grunt. You vacated the chair next to him, leaning back with your glass nestled in your hands. 
Joel was silent beside you, eyebrows furrowed and eyes zoning out into your small backyard. You followed his gaze, admiring the wooden fence surrounding your home. He and Tommy had built it for you after you’d complained for a week straight about the old rotted wood that once stood there, now you were blessed with privacy you’d once had years ago. You’d never kept your promise to pay them back with some of your cooking, you suddenly remembered.
A flicker of movement catches your eye, a small, grey bunny slips through a crack in the fence. You tut under your breath, shaking your head. Joel’s body moves; he’s laughing. “Don’t even start. It’s barely a crack, I’m not bloody fixin’ it.”
“I didn’t say anything!” You laugh back, but your eyebrows furrow slightly as you take in Joel’s posture. His smiles faded again and he’s back to zoning out. You nudge him gently, “What’s up?”
He suddenly stands up, placing the glass by your feet, it’s only then you noticed he hadn’t had any of it. He goes to your railing, leaning over it. “It’s gettin’ harder. Every day, I’m fightin’ it, and I don’t think I can anymore.” He starts, leaning his head to the right slightly, making sure you could hear every word. He sighs, “Don’t think I want to anymore.” 
You place your own glass down, standing up to join him. “I don’t understand.” You see him hesitate, his body tenses slightly, you can hear his jagged breathing. A warm wind blows past you both, you watch as the trees sway gently in it. 
Joel looks at you then, turning his whole body towards you. “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me this isn’t mutual.”
You watch him quietly, almost taken back at his forwardness. “Joel…” 
“No.” He interrupts, taking a step closer, “Tell me this isn’t in my head. I mean, fuck, baby. I love how we are now, but god do I ever wish it was something more.” 
A conversation you’d fought so hard to push to the back of your mind, words you’d dreamt about saying, planning out the best sentences to say that would articulate your feelings best, yet you stand in silence. Something inside you tingles, something deep in your stomach that travels up your body to your head, something goes fuzzy. Then you’re moving to him and closing the space between you, your hands moving to hold the back of his neck as your lips connect to his. It’s sort of an awkward angle, your head tilted back to be able to reach his face, you’re almost on the tips of your toes.
He takes a second to react, his hands awkwardly hovering by your sides as you first press your lips against his. As you moved to pull back having sensed his hesitance, Joel reached out. His hands move to your back, pulling you back to his chest tightly, firmly pressing his lips against yours. You feel him harden against your abdomen and he moans into your mouth with exhilaration, teasing his tongue against yours.
You worry for a second, worry that things were moving too fast. You’d spent years pent up, hiding your deepest feelings and forcing yourself to keep your hands away from him, but with every little movement, every spark sent through your body, your worries slowly started to vanish. As his hands move down your back to fondle your ass, you finally decide you don’t care. 
He squeezes the flesh between his hands, slapping it gently before he pulls away from you, looking pained as he does so. You watch him carefully, waiting for his next move. “Can I taste you?” He asks gently, his hands moving to ball the fabric of your dress. He spoke the words with such softness, such innocence, you faltered, almost uncertain if he meant what you were thinking. His fists tighten further, pleading with you with his eyes.
You take a gamble and nod, you think you’d like whatever he meant anyways; he doesn’t wait another second. He gently moved you backwards, your back pushed up against the railing of your porch, using it as a stabiliser as he moved down to his knees. “Careful.” You mutter, acknowledging the tenderness and soreness he often experienced with his aging body.
He doesn’t respond, instead, he bunches your dress in his hands and shoves it up, exposing your cunt hidden by a slightly damp pair of underwear. You reach down and hold your dress up, clutching it tightly as he brings two fingers up to your clothed clit, rubbing it gently. The sensation tears a moan from your throat, your fingers tightened around the fabric of the dress. As Joel slowly circled your clit, you doubled back and remembered that you were outside, you’d have to try and be quiet. Joel, on the other hand, didn’t seem to care, he probably found it to be a competition. ‘How far can I go without informing the entire neighbourhood I’m fucking my best friend on her porch.’
He finally tugs down your underwear, leaving it hanging by your ankles as he gently spreads your knees further apart. He was taking his time, you noted, savouring every second. You didn’t have any patience for savouring. “Please.” You moan, one of your hands let go of your dress to move to the back of Joel’s neck, pulling him closer in between your legs. “Just do it.” 
You could see him debate with himself for a second, tease her more or give in. He decided to do the latter. He looked as desperate as you felt as he gripped the sides of your thighs, looking up at you once more before he connected his mouth with your clit. He used his tongue in replacement of his fingers, circling your clit as he used the rest of his mouth as a suction. You jolted in place, mouth strung open and eyebrows furrowed together as he worked his way through your body. You could feel every movement his tongue made, the slow pressure of release in your abdomen quickly built its way up, finally forcing another moan from your throat. You tightened your hand around Joel’s hair, tugging the curls at the base of his neck, eliciting a deep groan from him. 
You knew you weren’t gonna last long, not as he moved one of his hands to play with your clit as his mouth moved further down, his tongue pushed into you slightly as he fully engrossed himself in you. His other hand rotated between holding your hip and moving back down to your thigh, squeezing the flesh beneath his palm, the sensation somehow pushing you further into euphoria. You take your hand away from his neck, moving back up to your dress, you let go with your other hand, moving it down the base of your body to where his hand was resting on your hip. 
When he felt you hold onto him, he adjusted your hands so that he was holding yours, fingers gripping you tightly as his mouth moved back up to your clit, his other arm moved around to the backs of your thighs, pulling you closer to his mouth. He was moaning gently into your clit, you could feel the vibrations pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your orgasm took you by surprise, arriving so suddenly you could hardly think as your legs began to shake and your fingers gripped so tightly around Joel’s hands, he winced. You don’t know how loud you were being, your senses were all out of whack. The high seemed to last forever, your clit throbbed gently. Your heart was beating out of your chest, the slight tremors in your legs not ceasing even after he’d slowly moved backwards, away from your cunt. 
“Fuck.” He whispered quietly, admiring you once more before he hauled himself up, giving you no time to react as he crashed his lips against yours, pulling you so tightly against his chest you struggled to breathe. “Fuck that was sexy.” He muttered against your lips. Resting his forehead on yours for a moment. Behind you, you could hear a back door open. The sounds of a quiet hum dragged you back to your senses, you’d forgotten to stay quiet. 
“Inside.” You mumble, dropping your dress back down and pulling up your underwear. He closed the door behind you when you walked in, you were still trying to catch your breath. It was hot inside, hotter than it was outside; your hair stuck to the back of your neck. Joel approached you quietly, brushing your hair away from your neck with the back of his hand. He laid a gentle kiss there, when he pulled away you could still feel his lips on your skin. 
You pulled your dress up over your head, leaving it to drop down next to your feet. You stood before him in nothing but your damp underwear. Joel inhaled deeply behind you, his hands hesitantly reaching out to turn you around. His eyes immediately dropped down, taking in every feature, every curve. You could feel every callous on his fingers as he moved his hands down your shoulders and over your breasts, teasing your nipples gently for a moment before moving back up your body, where his hand ghosted the front of your neck.
He tugged at his shirt then, pulling it off his body before moving to his jeans, his fingers fumbling with his belt. You smiled at him softly, brushing his hands aside and helping him out of the material. It was your turn to stare now. You traced your finger along every scar splattered across the length of his body. He watched carefully as you did so, bringing his hand up to your cheek. After what seemed like forever, you retracted your hand back to yourself and started moving backwards towards the couch. Joel followed you wordlessly, not taking his eyes off you. 
When you reached the couch, you gestured for him to sit down. He complied easily, leaning back into the couch, just watching you. You moved to stand between his legs, your nipples hardened further in anticipation. Slowly, you moved down and took your underwear completely off, throwing them somewhere behind you. As you did so, Joel moved to take his off, leaving you both bare and vulnerable. It seemed as if your body was moving on autopilot, everything started to seem so unreal. As you stood before him, his eyes wild and desperate, you found you couldn’t really remember how this had happened so fast. 
Was it just a buildup of hidden emotions? Or had something happened that made him snap? You breathed in deeply, debating with yourself. Telling yourself that you could still back out. Label what happened outside as two lonely people who got desperate. You caught yourself, pushing those thoughts to the back of your head. That’s not what you wanted to do, you couldn’t understand why you were fighting against it so hard. You recognised a glimmer of fear within the thoughts. Fear of opening up to someone, maybe. 
Joel called your name softly. You blinked, focusing back onto him. “Stop thinkin’ so much.” He said, sitting up a little straighter. “If you don’t want this, that’s fine. Don’t freak yourself out ‘bout it.” You furrowed your eyebrows, you did want it. You blinked again, internally scolding your brain for a second before you moved forwards. You straddled his lap, knees resting on either side of his thighs, your hands rested on his chest. He looked at you silently, searching for any sign of discomfort. 
“I do want this.” You whisper, “It’s just new.” Joel nodded slowly, leaning back into the couch. You smile softly, your fingers subconsciously trace patterns on his skin. It was getting harder to ignore the warmth in your lower abdomen, you could feel yourself getting wetter for him, more desperate for him. He was in the same boat, his cock lay firmly against his stomach, the tip of him a deep pink. You reached between your legs, grasping him firmly in your hand. He was big, for a second you hesitated, it had been a while. 
“We’ll take it slow.” Joel grunted, leaning his head back for a moment. You gripped him tighter, slowly moving your hand up and down, causing a deep moan to slip out his mouth. You teased him like that for a little while, watching his reactions curiously. After a few minutes, he leant his head back up to look at you, “Enough.” He practically growled. You smile at him in response, finally lifting your hips up slightly. You both watched as his cock slowly slipped inside you, small moans of pleasure and release sounded out into the room. The initial stretch hurt, you had expected it but it still caused you to completely stop. Joel stayed still until you were ready to keep going. 
After that you didn’t need to stop. Even if you did have to, you weren't sure if you could. You were fully sat on Joel’s lap, his cock nestled deep up inside you, his pubic hair brushed against your clit as you slowly circled your hips. Joel was gripping your hips so tightly, you could already feel them bruising, with every move, a small moan or grunt huffed from his lips. A couple minutes had passed of the slow circling, you had passed the point of desperation. With a slight sigh, you adjusted yourself so you were leaning more of your body weight on your feet before you slowly lifted yourself up the length of his dick, then abruptly sat back down, the sudden movement had Joel moaning loudly, his hands moved to the bottom of your ass to help you bounce up and down continuously. 
You fucked yourself on him hard, your ass connected with his thighs with a satisfying noise, your moans increasingly getting louder. At one point, you leant back slightly, resting your arms on his thighs as you continued to move on top of him. Joel took this opportunity to play with your clit again, his movements precise. You could feel sweat accumulating on your back, the hot environment mixed with this, you didn’t care. Not when Joel moved forwards in what looked like an uncomfortable manner, desperately connecting his lips with your breasts. “Fuck, Joel.” You gasp, feeling his teeth graze against your nipples. 
So caught up in the feeling of Joel inside you, you almost missed the sound coming from behind you. You faltered in your movements to try and listen out for what you’d barely heard over the sound of your own cries, Joel immediately sat up, his hands moved to your waist. “What is it? Are you okay?” You quickly shush him, furrowing your eyebrows. 
Then, a wooshing sound was heard and a cool breeze suddenly followed, flowing over your skin and cooling you instantly. You look at the air conditioner, a new little green light you’d never seen before was on. “Oh.” You say, now completely still in Joel’s lap. You were about to say something, but before you could, you were being manoeuvred around, taking the breath away from you. Joel lay you on your back, still sheathed fully inside you. It seemed that any sense of patience and tenderness had disappeared, instead, a more unforgiving and relentless version of him came out, he fucked into you hard, harder than you could ever expect from such a careful man. 
You threw your head back, wrapping your legs around his hips as he thrust into you, grunting in your ear. One of his hands moved up to palm your breast again, squeezing it roughly before he let go and moved further up your body, resting on your throat. His movements faltered for a moment, his eyes shut close before he resumed the pace. Grunts were replaced with soft moans, almost whimpers as his hips collided with the backs of your thighs. You barely had time to warn him, you managed to let out a strangled moan as you came, your body tightening around him. He came quickly after you did, his body practically collapsing against you as he shot his cum deep inside you, his heavy breath heating your skin. 
After a little while of him on top of you, whispering sweet things into your ear and kissing you gently on your neck, he sat up. You followed, glancing behind you at the air conditioning unit. “Thank fucking god.” You mutter, shaking your head. 
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literaryavenger · 1 year ago
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Broken - bonus part
Summary: It's been a year since Bucky moved in and now it's his turn to help you, only problem is you won't let him.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Warnings: No use of Y/N. Language. A lot of fluff. Eating disorder. Angst.
Word Count: 7.8K
A/N: I made this bonus part to explore more about the eating disorder that was hinted in the first couple of chapters. I had plans to incorporated in the story when I was planning on making it longer, but with how it went it didn't feel like there was a place for it. I'd like to thank @ordelixx for giving me the idea for this additional part. Hope you enjoy it, I'm always open to more ideas so feel free to spam in my inbox or messages, know I always appreciate it! Also sorry it took me so long to finish this but I started it and then kind of lost inspiration :(
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
Masterlist
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It’s been a year since Bucky arrived at the tower and about 11 months since his hearing.
As conditioned by his pardon he’s been going to therapy, he’s been training with the team and has been doing more and more missions, on probation, but still he’s been doing better than ever.
Even Tony had to admit that the more time he spent with Bucky the more the super soldier grew on him.
If a few months ago he begrudgingly spent time with the super soldier at your request, if anything to spend time with you too since you’re still inseparable, now Tony actively seeks him out; wanting to study his new vibranium arm, testing his gadgets since he got hurt less easily than the others. Or sometimes simply to talk about things like astronomy after Tony found out about Bucky’s interest in the subject.
They’ve even had a few conversations on Howard and his friendship with the sergeant back in the 40s.
You're proud of all the progress Bucky’s made, and you appreciate the fact that getting more comfortable in the 21st century and becoming more confident didn’t make him pull away from you.
It's a fear you had, that maybe Bucky stuck to you because you were the first person after Steve that made him feel safe, that the more people he got familiar with the more he was gonna pull away from you, not needing you as much anymore.
But, to your delight, Bucky’s still as touchy and clingy towards you as ever, if anything he's grown even more affectionate.
He never lets a day go by without telling you how much he loves you and appreciates you, kissing you any chance he gets and holding you tight every night in the room the two of you have been officially sharing the last few weeks since you’ve all moved to the new Avengers Compound upstate.
You love Bucky’s attention and you’re just as affectionate towards him as he is towards you. Everything was going great.
Until it wasn’t.
You’re on your way to your room, looking forward to seeing Bucky after a full morning of mission reports with Steve and then training with Natasha.
She obviously kicked your ass and you're exhausted, wanting nothing more than to be in his warm embrace for the rest of the day.
Thankfully, it’s friday afternoon and you have no new missions which means your weekend is wide open.
You stop on your tracks when you hear your name being mentioned in a conversation right around the corner.
You recognize one of the voices as Sharon Carter, one of the agents of Shield that lives and works at the compound the Avengers now reside in.
You don’t know why you stop to listen in on the conversation, you’re not really one to eavesdrop, but something about her tone makes your legs refuse to move towards her direction. Which just so happens to be the way towards the Avengers only part of the building.
Your stomach drops when you hear the other girl’s next sentence.
"And can you believe she got Sergeant Barnes to date her?" Sharon groans before answering.
"Of course she did, he was all broken and vulnerable and she was like the first person he met at the tower. He obviously got attached to the first person that was nice to him, otherwise how do you think a girl like her could ever have a chance with him?" she says matter-of-factly. 
"You’re right, I mean he’s probably still with her just out of habit. He’s too nice to hurt her feelings." the other girl says, giggling.
"Exactly." Sharon agrees, laughing with her friend. "I mean, he’d never go for her if he met her today. He’d probably be flirting his way through the actually pretty girls that live around here, like you and me."
You can hear their laughter growing louder as they get closer to where you are frozen on your spot and feel yourself starting to panic.
You can’t face them right now, the only thing on your mind is finding a place to hide in.
You see a door behind you and you sprint to it, reaching it, running inside and closing the door softly in record time. You press your ear up against it and can hear the muffled laughter and some more comments on you and Bucky.
When they’re finally far enough that you can’t hear them, you let yourself relax, pressing your back against the door and looking into the dark closet you’re hiding in while you let their words really sink in, your brain working overtime to make sure you didn’t misheard or misinterpreted anything.
Once you’re sure you indeed heard everything correctly, tears start to form in your eyes.
Is that really what people think? That Bucky’s just with you because he pities you?
You’ve always known Bucky was beautiful, definitely the hottest guy you’ve ever seen in your life, and you’ve always known he was out of your league.
You know you’re by no means thin, but you also don’t consider yourself fat, especially not after all the work that it took you to get to a place where you have a healthy relationship with your body.
Yes, you still have your doubts and insecurities, but that’s just in your head.
Although here you are, hiding in a supply closet, tears streaming down your face, because there are actual people outside of your head that see your flaws too.
One thing is to wonder about this stuff in the middle of the night when you can’t sleep, the voices in your head taking over, but to hear those same thoughts coming out of someone else’s mouth hit you hard.
You don’t even know how long you stay hidden, but at some point you snap out of it and dry your tears, opening the door and making the way to your room.
It feels like only a second passes and then you’re opening the door of yours and Bucky’s room. You make a beeline for the bathroom, barely acknowledging your boyfriend when he greets you as you lock the bathroom door behind you.
Bucky’s eyebrows furrow at your cold shoulder, immediately getting worried. He gets up from the bed and knocks on the door of the bathroom calling out for you. "Everything okay?"
You can hear the concern in his voice and it only makes you feel worse as you find yourself wondering if he’s actually worried or just that good at pretending.
You look at your reflection in the mirror and all of a sudden you feel nauseous but you barely have time to realize it’s not just in your head when you’re suddenly throwing up in the toilet.
Bucky’s more worried than ever as he hears you be sick from the other side of the door. "Doll, I need you to talk to me or I will break down the door."
He knows it may not be the ideal thing to say, but his concern outweighs his rational thinking when you stop making sounds as he still hasn't heard your voice and is worried you might’ve passed out.
"I’m okay." your voice is quiet, but at least you’re conscious. 
"Can you open the door for me, doll?" He can hear you sigh and shuffle a bit, probably getting up. Then he hears the faucet of the sink being turned on as you splash some water on your face.
He’s a little calmer now, patiently waiting for you and he lets out a little breath of relief when he hears the lock click.
You open it reluctantly, trying your best to look normal, but Bucky can see right through you.
"What’s wrong, baby?" he brings his hands to your cheeks and you can’t help but lean into them for a second before you grab his wrists and gently lower his hands, his face more worried than before.
"I’m fine, Bucky." you say, your voice almost emotionless.
"You were just throwing up. You’re not fine." it takes all of him not to reach for you again, not wanting to cross your boundaries.
"It’s nothing. Maybe I’m just sick. I’ll take a shower, it’ll make me feel better." You don’t give him time to respond as you close the door and lock it again, starting the shower.
Bucky feels like he can barely breathe, your behavior making him more worried than he’s been since the 40s and he had to take care of sickly little Steve.
Youìve never acted like this with him, when you were sick or even grumpy from your period you usually became clingy and wanted him around even more than you usually do. But he gives you the benefit of the doubt.
If you were sick this wasn’t the moment to think about himself. He has to take care of you first and he can ask more later you when you're feeling better.
With new resolve he heads towards the kitchen, determined to get everything you might need to make you feel better.
You stay in the shower for over an hour, trying to avoid Bucky as much as you can, but you know you had to get out and face him eventually.
When you come out of the bathroom you find him sitting in the desk chair, the desk full of things you’re pretty sure weren’t there when you entered the room.
Bucky's on his feet and coming towards you in a second, your favorite pair of pajamas in his hand.
"Are you feeling better?" he asks you softly, worry still present on his features.
You can’t bring yourself to look at him, taking the clothes and changing as fast as you can, a small ‘I’m fine’ leaving your lips. 
"What's all of this?" you ask, stepping around him and walking towards the desk.
"Oh, I just brought you some things to make you feel better." He can't help himself as he wraps his arms around you from behind while you look through the things he brought you.
He got you all sorts of pain meds, your favorite snacks and drinks, your heating pad and your favorite comfort book.
You want to cry at the sight, but part of you can't help but doubt Bucky, even with how sweet he’s being.
You snap out of it when you feel Bucky give you a kiss on the shoulder and, suddenly, it all feels fake and it’s too much for you. 
You place your hands on his and move his arms away from you, then start heading towards the bed.
"I’m not hungry. I just want to sleep for a bit." That's all you say as you lay down and turn your back on him, tears threatening to fall down again.
You hear him sigh behind you. Then he moves around and you feel him lay a kiss on your head before he walks out the room shutting the lights on his way, wanting to give you the space you clearly want.
You aren't sure if you're glad you can cry yourself to sleep freely or worried that him walking out solidifies the voices in your head that are telling you that maybe Bucky really doesn’t love you.
When you wake up the next morning Bucky’s arms were wrapped around you from behind.
Usually being in his hold makes you feel safe but right now all you can concentrate on is the feeling of his hands on your belly and how disgusted he would be if he woke up and realized the position you were in, no matter how many times you've been like this.
You slip away from his embrace and go to change into work out clothes. You went to sleep pretty early yesterday so it was still early in the morning when you woke up.
You aren’t expecting to meet anyone yet but, once again, you're proven wrong by the shuffling coming from the kitchen as you make your way to grab a bottle of water.
You approach carefully without making a sound and when you peak around the corner you see Steve, probably back from a morning run, in front of the counter with his back to you and a water bottle in his hand.
You try to move as quietly as possible, even with enhanced hearing your skills have gotten so good you're able to sneak around the super soldiers when needed.
You decide to use the stairs to get to the gym, the door leading to them squeaking lightly. Steve turns around at the sound but seems to decide it was nothing as he shrugs and makes his way to his room.
You’ve been at the gym for a couple of hours, stopping only to grab water from the mini fridge, when the door opens and you hear Bucky’s voice.
"Hey doll, I’ve been looking for you everywhere." His voice sounds genuinely concerned. You have to give him props on his acting skills.
"Yeah, couldn’t sleep." You say without looking at him, barely stopping your punching of the bag in front of you.
"I thought you were sick." he’s slowly getting closer, you’d almost think he was trying to corner a scared animal.
"Clearly I feel better." you shrug, trying to end this conversation as fast as possible.
You feel his hand on your shoulder and finally stop, taking a deep breath before turning to face him.
His face looks more worried than you’ve ever seen it and it almost makes you forget your own concerns about the reality of your relationship.
Almost. 
"Maybe you should go visit Bruce, make sure everything’s okay." his eyes never leave your face and you try your best to hide any emotion but it’s always been too easy for him to read you so you shrug his hand from your shoulder, trying to put a little distance between you.
He looks genuinely hurt, but, again, what would you expect from a trained assassin? Pretending comes as naturally to him as breathing. 
"I’m fine, Bucky." you turn back to the bag and resume your punching. You’re so lost in your own thoughts you don’t even notice him walking out of the gym.
You work out some more before deciding it’s enough and go back to your room, thankful for the first time that Bucky’s not there.
After you shower and change again you find yourself with nothing to do and, for once, you wish you had paperwork to keep you occupied and give you an excuse to avoid everybody.
You grab your purse and make your way out, mumbling something about having errands to run in the city when you come across some people in the living room, basically running out of there so fast you can’t even tell who’s actually there watching tv.
You spend the whole day running around the city, not really having a destination but when the sun starts coming down you decide to head back.
When you enter the living room you can see everyone sitting at the kitchen table.
"Finally, you’re here! We can eat now." Sam shouts happily and you know you can’t escape this.
"Sorry, didn’t realize you were waiting on me." You say quietly while sitting down in the only free chair that’s unfortunately next to Bucky.
"It’s okay, koala bear." Steve smiles from your other side. "Bucky said you weren’t feeling great, so Wanda made your favorite."
You try to look excited while smiling and thanking Wanda as she and Vision place the food on the table. If she notices something is off, she doesn't say anything, just giving you a smile of her own in return.
"Where were you all day?" Tony asks you.
"The city." you simply say, trying to sound as casual as possible while making no attempt to look at him, or make eye contact with anyone else for that matter.
But Tony seems satisfied with your answer, taking your lack of conversation for tiredness and going back to talking to Clint.
You manage to avoid all conversations with nods and hums and you can feel Bucky’s gaze on you almost as it burns but you can’t find it in yourself to look back at him.
When you feel his hand coming to rest on top of yours on the table you feel like something inside you snaps and you get up abruptly, making everybody stop as they give you confused looks.
"Excuse me, I still don’t feel well. I think I’m gonna go to my room and rest." and, without giving anyone the chance to say anything, you walk away.
There’s a second of silence before the team seems to dismiss your behavior as grumpiness from feeling sick, after all the rare times that you do get sick you get very irritable.
Bucky seems to be the only one to notice your untouched food. 
After less than five minutes the door to your room opens and Bucky comes in, finding you sitting on the bed staring at nothing while being clearly lost in your head.
He makes his way to you and kneels down in front of you.
"What’s going on, doll?" He tries his luck again, putting a hand on your knee. He hopes that giving space all day allowed you to come around and now you’ll talk to him.
You prove him wrong by getting up, not even sparing him a glance, and making your way to the closet to try and busy yourself so you won’t have to look at him.
"Nothing." You offer nothing more and Bucky starts getting frustrated with you. 
"What is wrong with you today?" He knows something’s wrong. He knows you better than anyone, and he’s trying to be patient with you but you’ve never acted this cold towards him and it scares him.
"Nothing is wrong." You know you’re pushing it. You know you’re doing nothing to alleviate his worries, but you can’t help the feeling that he’s the one in the wrong.
He’s the one out of line, he’s the one that betrayed your trust and hurt you and toyed with your feelings and lied to you about his own. You had every right to be short with him.
Right?
"Something is obviously wrong, why won’t you just talk to me?!" He almost whines and you roll your eyes, your own unjustified irritation coming out.
"Oh, for the love of God, just give it a rest!" you almost yell, and the surprise you find in yourself is nothing compared to the one on Bucky’s face.
"What?" he’s almost whispering and the hurt in his voice for some reason just infuriates you more.
"Stop treating me like I’m made of glass! Not everyone is as needy as you, you know. I’m a grown ass adult and I don’t need you!" You can’t stop shouting, knowing full well you don’t mean a word you’re saying. But you want to hurt him as much as you’re hurting, as wrong as that is.
"Don’t you think I know that you don’t need me?!" He’s yelling too now, and you know you pushed the right button "I know damn well how strong you are, but that doesn’t mean I can’t still worry about you!"
"I don’t need you to worry about me!"
"Well, that’s too damn bad for you, because I love you and I want you to be okay!" God, even shouting he’s still being nice to you.
"Well, that’s too damn bad for you, because it’s none of your business if I’m okay!" Not the best response, but at this point you honestly have no idea of even control of what’s coming out of your mouth anymore.
"God, why are you being such a child about this?!" Bucky barely understands what’s going on right.
The two of you have never fought before, not so much as an argument, and now here you are in a yelling match that started because he's concerned about you.
"Oh boo freaking hoo, poor Bucky having to deal with a child! If you don’t like me just say so!"
"What the hell are you talking about?!" He’s beyond confused now.
"If you don’t want this," you gesture between the two of you "just leave! Go and find someone you actually like! Don’t stay with me just because you feel like you have to!"
"When did I ever say that? Are you out of your mind?!"
"Yes, I’m crazy! Now just leave me the fuck alone!" you yell at the top of your lungs and Bucky seems to freeze in his spot.
Assuming this is over, you turn around and climb into bed, your back to Bucky once again.
When you hear him sigh and start moving you feel like you’re reliving yesterday, except this time you don’t expect him to kiss you but just leave.
He turns off the lights, but you frown when you don’t hear the door, instead you feel the bed dip behind you. You tense up when Bucky’s arms wrap around you from behind, bringing you closer to him with your back pressed against his chest.
"I will choose you over everyone. Even on the days where we don’t understand each other." He whispers in your ear after a moment of silence and you can’t do anything to stop the tears that start coming out as you feel Bucky holding you tighter without saying another word.
You want to believe him, you really do. But Sharon’s voice in your head is like a net, not allowing you to fall fully into Bucky, not being able to accept that someone like him truly loves you.
So you start spending your days by yourself, avoiding people as much as possible.
Everytime you're in a room with someone all you can think about is how they're probably judging you, making just want to run away and hide.
But isolating yourself does nothing to ease your worries as you now spend all your time overthinking and hating on yourself.
You start pulling away from Bucky too and it's killing him.
You still won't talk to him, everytime you're together you pretend that everything's fine.
You put on a smile he knows is fake, really doing the bare minimum to keep a conversation going and when he touches you he always gets the feeling that you wanted nothing more than to slap his hands away.
But you always try to be discreet as you inch away from him with any excuse that comes to mind.
It's the change in your relationship with Bucky that starts to clue the team in on your behavior.
As much as they have fun giving you shit for it, they all admire your closeness and were happy that you found each other.
So they start paying more attention to you. Everybody can see something's wrong, but if you wouldn’t talk to Bucky about it, really what chance do they have?
It doesn't stop them from worrying though, seeing how you seem to waste away.
You spend too much time in the gym, losing weight at an alarming rate and not getting enough sleep to function, sometimes resulting in you falling asleep during meetings or on the mat at the gym.
But you refuse to let Bruce look at you. You refuse any help really, your temper shorter than ever as you end up snapping at people more often than not.
You try to keep it together, but it's obviously not working. The only thing you manage to do is avoiding meals without anyone noticing.
After weeks on end of this, the team decides to do something to try and cheer you up, taking the opportunity of your birthday coming up.
Steve manages to convince Tony to have a small party, just the team and agents of Shield, instead of one of his big parties full of strangers.
They're careful when they approach you with the subject, having taken to walking on eggshells around you. You can’t help feeling bad for the way you’ve been treating them, so you decide to be cool about the party, even knowing deep down you’ll regret it.
Natasha and Wanda offer to go shopping with you for a new dress for the occasion, but you decline their invitation.
You know they're trying to be nice, but just the thought of going from store to store, seeing all those beautiful, skinny women trying on pretty dresses you’d never be able to fit into, together with the two gorgeous redheads, it sounds like hell to you.
Which is why you ask the team to have a more informal dress code than usual, allowing you to dress as comfortable as you can be at the moment with loose fitting pants and a large hoodie.
You arrive at the party in the ballroom of the compound that Tony just had to have and are thankful to see everyone dress casually, most of the girls not even wearing dresses.
But you still try not to linger too long on their looks, not wanting to feel worse than you already do about your own appearance.
Arms wrap around your body and you hear Bucky wish you a happy birthday.
You give him a few seconds before you wiggle away from the embrace and turn around. You give Bucky your best fake smile and thank him before kissing him quickly on the cheek and walking away towards the bar to get some water.
You don't need to be getting drunk and throwing up more than you already do every time your stomach forces you to eat anything.
You spend the whole night going from person to person, trying not to talk to anyone too long and making sure to always keep moving to avoid too many questions.
You know it's only a matter of time before they start coming. Even Fury is present, worried about you ever since he had to take you off missions for passing out on the field.
Soon came the moment you’d been dreading most: Wanda comes toward you with your favorite cake with candles lit and everybody starts singing.
You know that with being the center of attention you won't be able to get away with not eating and the team would piece things together if you try, having already gone through this years ago.
Honestly, you're a little disappointed nobody had figured it out yet, but not entirely surprised as you told yourself everyone just didn’t care enough.
And why should they when you look the way you do?
Everyone cheers as you blow on the candles, fake smile still going strong. The cake is cut and everyone is enjoying Wanda’s culinary talent. You even manage to eat yours and keep it down without looking disgusted with yourself.
Everything was going great.
You're behind the bar now taking another water bottle from the mini fridge when you accidentally knock over a glass full of straws that was thankfully made of plastic so it didn’t break.
While you're picking up straws you hear footsteps getting close to the bar that hid your kneeling figure and stop what you're doing when you hear Sharon talking about you. Again.
"And did you see how she’s dressed to her own party? No wonder Bucky’s been staying as far away as possible all night." she's basically whispering, but it's still loud enough for you to hear.
"I know, he’s probably ashamed of her. Wouldn’t surprise me if he dumped her tonight." the two girls giggle the sound seems to snap you out of your trance.
You get up so fast you scare Sharon and the other girl, their startled squeals drawing the attention of the rest of the party as everybody prepares for any danger.
But there is no danger, all everybody can see is two mortified looking agents and you with tears in your eyes that you don't even feel starting to fall.
The whole team is worried sick, everybody getting closer to the bar, but Bucky is the one that's at your side before you can even think about blinking the tears away.
"What’s wrong, baby?" he looks so worried, almost like he himself is about to cry at the mere thought of you being in pain.
But that can't be it, that's not what you're seeing.
He's probably just embarrassed you're being overly emotional for no apparent reason, and that look in his eyes is him getting ready to break up with you right here and now.
At that thought you can literally feel the cake you just ate coming back up and all you can do is run as fast as you could towards the nearest bathroom with a very concerned Bucky running after you after silently agreeing with Steve with a single look that he’ll be the one to check on you.
You make it to the toilet just in time to unload, barely registering two hands taking your hair and holding it away from your face.
You finish vomiting and clean your mouth with some toilet paper before throwing it in and flushing it, shuffling your body backwards until your back hits the tub and you close your eyes while resting your head back against it.
You feel your hair falling back down on your shoulders and can make out the sound of the faucet running for a few seconds before you feel a wet towel gently brushing your cheeks and mouth.
You open your eyes and are met with Bucky kneeling in front of you, seemingly examining every inch of your face to try and understand what’s going on.
Before he can ask you for what felt like the thousandth time though, you can't hold yourself back anymore.
"Please don’t leave me." your voice is weak enough already from all the vomiting and the sobs that start coming in certainly don't help.
Tears start to fall like waterfalls but you don't let any of that stop you from going on. "I know I said I didn’t need you, but I do. I need you so much more than you could ever know."
Bucky wraps his arms around you and he's more than relieved when you don't pull away for the first time in weeks.
Instead, you cling to him as you keep pleading with him not to leave you in between broken sobs while he moves you to sit curling on his lap.
Bucky’s heart breaks for you and he wonders if this was how you felt everytime you comforted him, feeling even more in awe of you now that he knows how hard it was to see the person you love like this.
All he wants is to make you feel better and take away all your pain, but he had no idea how.
When you show no signs of calming down after several minutes he decides to try to talk you down, hoping not to make things worse.
"Doll, I need you to calm down." he tries to pull away just enough to look you in the eyes, but you just hug him tighter, almost terrified that he's just gonna get up and leave forever if you let go and you start getting more agitated by the second. 
!Baby, please try to take deep breaths." he's trying really hard not to panic himself now. "I’m not leaving, I promise. I’m staying right here with you, but you need to calm down, please."
Maybe it's because he's basically begging you, maybe it's because of the panic and concern you think you can hear in his voice or maybe it's his grip getting impossibly tight on you that grounds you, but your brain seems to clear just enough to give your body the command and you start trying to take deep breaths.
When you loosen your hold on Bucky he grabs one of your hands and puts it on his chest right over his heart, the steady beating giving you something to concentrate on as you try your best to copy his breathing. 
It takes a few more minutes but you calm down, tears still falling silently down your cheeks while Bucky rubs your back with his metal hand, his other warm hand still over yours on his chest.
"I’m sorry I’m such a mess…" Your voice sounds foreign to your own ears, quiet, full of sadness and desperation.
This isn’t you.
This isn’t the confident, strong woman that kicked ass and defended Bucky even to your own family from day one.
What happened to you?
Unbeknownst to you, Bucky's asking himself the same question.
What happened to the sweet, bright girl that offered him a hug after five seconds of knowing him? The girl that calmed him down from a panic attack and kept him company through the night even after knowing about his past?
The girl that let him hang onto her like a koala and allowed him to let it all out? The girl that was patient with him, understanding and never once judged him, no matter how broken she’d seen him?
He really can't think of anything that could've happened to break you this much, to bring you to basically have a meltdown on a bathroom floor.
But whatever it was he needs to know now, and he's more determined than ever to find out.
"Doll, you’re not a mess. You’re hurting, I can see it. We all can. And I know you’re strong, but everybody needs help once in a while. Whatever’s been happening, you don’t have to go through it alone. Just like you didn’t let me go through anything alone. You were always there for me, you’re always there for everybody." he pauses and you take the moment to spiral further.
This is the only reason why he’s still with you. You were there for him, you cared and comforted him. So he feels the need to stay with you because Bucky’s loyal, no matter what his feelings actually are.
But he’s gonna fall in love one day with someone, and what is that gonna mean for you? He’s gonna leave you to be with the person he actually wants, loyalty or not. Your fall down the rabbit hole is stopped by Bucky’s voice.
"Please let me be there for you. This is killing me, watching you do this to yourself. Please tell me what’s going on, baby, because you’re scaring me so fucking much. Please." he finishes in a whisper.
Before you can even properly process his words, you feel a tear that's not yours fall on your cheek, making your eyes widen and you look up to see Bucky already looking down at you with tears rolling down his cheeks.
Your hand goes up to his face automatically and you feel him lean into it. You sit up straighter on his lap, leaning in to rest your forehead against his and closing your eyes while willing yourself to stop the tears long enough so you can talk.
Bucky doesn't push you, finding comfort in your touch after having missed it for what, in his opinion, is too damn long.
"I’m sorry… I just…" you don't even know how to start to explain it.
Bucky can see you're having a hard time finding the words, so he tries to help by saying "You don’t need to rush it, doll. I don’t want to push you to talk about something you clearly don’t want to... But I’ve just been so worried. You’ve been pushing everyone away, and you don’t sleep and stay at the gym until you almost pass out. You think that I don’t hear you throwing up, but I do. And, even with all your oversized clothes, I can see how much weight you’ve been losing. It’s killing me, baby, I hate to see you like this. I just want to know why." he kisses the side of your head and you're on the verge of tears again.
Trying hard to hold them back, you force yourself to speak. "I heard some people talking about me…" you start, your voice still quiet, and you go on to tell him everything.
The conversation you overheard, the insecurities that it brought to the surface, the issues you had in the past and the struggle you’ve been having the last few weeks.
By the end of it Bucky he doesn't know what to feel. He's enraged, worried sick, sad at how miserable you’ve been. Just to name a few.
But more than anything he's heartbroken at how much you’ve been questioning your relationship with him and his love for you. He's devastated to think that everytime he told you how much he loves you, you doubted him and convinced yourself he was lying.
And the worst part is he has no idea how to change your mind.
Is there anything he can say that you won’t doubt? Anything he can do to show you how much you mean to him? Probably not, but he has to try and make you understand.
Your eyes are still closed, not daring to see the disappointment in Bucky’s face.
"Baby, look at me." he says firmly but gently enough to not make you think he was in any way mad at you.
He waits patiently until you look at him which, after taking a deep breath, you do and only then he continues while taking your face in his hands "There are so many things I want to tell you right now... but I’ll start with I love you, doll. I love you so much it actually hurts. Maybe we got close because you were nice and patient with me, but that’s not why I love you. I love you because you’re kind and smart and strong and dedicated. You can kick ass like no one else and you’re still the sweetest person I’ve ever met. And I’m almost 100, I’ve met a lot of people." he smiles when he finally gets you to giggle, the first real laugh he’s heard from you in weeks.
"You’re compassionate and understanding and loyal and beautiful beyond compare. I fell in love with you because of who you are, not what you look like. But that doesn’t mean I don’t think you’re pretty, I think you’re gorgeous and I love your body. I love everything about you. Every. Single. Thing." he punctuates every word with a kiss to each of your cheeks and then your nose, making you giggle more. "You think I’d ever leave you? I could never even consider being with someone else. God, you were never even supposed to mean this much to me! I was never supposed to fall so hard... But you know what? I did and that’s the truth, and that’s what keeps me holding on because it hurts like hell to let you go."
You're obviously in tears, not being able to look away from Bucky’s eyes even if you wanted because of his hold on your face, not that you're trying that hard to get away.
You have no words to describe the way you feel, not even being sure if you fully believe him. The look on his face, though, makes you want to believe. Makes you want to tell all the voices in your head to fuck off until the only one left is Bucky’s saying all the things he just said, over and over again.
But can you really let go of them that easily?
"You don’t have to carry this by yourself, doll." Bucky can see your internal struggle. "Lean on me. Let me help you make this easier."
There's nothing but sincerity in his eyes, he can't possibly be that good of an actor to be faking it, right?
So you decide to trust him.
You trust him with your life, why can’t you believe that he really loves you? 
You can. You do.
You will...
"Okay…" You’re basically whispering, still a little worried he’s just pretending and is gonna rip the rug from under you any second now. "I love you, so much. And I want to believe you love me… but it may take me a little while to accept that completely. I’m sorry…"
"You don’t need to apologize, baby. It doesn’t matter how much time it takes, I’m here for all of it. I want nothing more than to help you feel better, starting with helping you love yourself as much as I love you." he wipes your tears with his thumbs before he gives you a soft kiss on the lips. "And not worrying what jealous, unimportant, random people think of you. You’re beautiful inside AND out, don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise. Not even this." He taps the side of your head.
You wrap your arms around his neck and hug him tightly, neither one of you needing to say more at the moment. After a few minutes like this, you’re both done crying and you let go just enough to look at each other.
"Can we go to our room?" you ask him and he nods, letting you get off his lap and then getting up with you.
He doesn’t let you get too far from him while you go to the sink to try and make yourself look decent as he follows you so closely you might think you’re glued to each other.
Your eyes meet in the mirror and he smiles at you, wrapping his arms around your waist, he gives you a kiss on the shoulder before resting his head on it.
You successfully wash off all the makeup you put on for the party, your efforts now ruined by all the crying.
"You’re so pretty." Bucky tells you, his eyes never leaving yours and you smile a real smile this time, turning your head to give him a kiss on the cheek that makes him smile even more.
You get out of the bathroom and you tense up seeing everybody still at the party, your breath hitching in your throat as embarrassment crawls up on you.
You can see the team’s worried looks and the last thing you want right now is to go through the last 40 minutes all over again, in front of everybody.
You just want to go to your room and cuddle up with Bucky, but the super soldier had other plans.
"Can I have everybody’s attention?" you look at him with a frown, but he simply smiled at you and keeps going once the whole room is looking at you two. "It’s been brought to my attention that some of you have some misconceptions about our relationship."
You didn’t tell Bucky who you heard the conversation from, only that it was two agents just in case he might think it was someone on the team, and it almost looks like he's scanning every agent’s face to try and figure out who it was, but he continues nonetheless.
"I’d just like to make it clear for everyone that not only I love this woman more than life itself, but I, and everyone who knows her for that matter, think she’s the best, most caring person I’ve ever met. Not to mention the most attractive, in my ever so humble opinion." he wraps his metal arm around your waist and brings you closer as your face gets redder, and you can see the team chuckling and grinning at Bucky’s possessiveness and your flustered form. "And it’s also absolutely none of your business what happens in our relationship. But, since you’re all here I might as well give you something real to gossip about."
To say you're confused is an understatement. You turn back to him when Bucky’s arm disappear from around you just in time to see him reach into his back pocket, pulling out a ring box and getting down on one knee.
You hear gasps around the room, your own being muffled by your hand in front of your mouth as your eyes grow wide.
"Bucky..." It's barely a whisper to begin with, your hand almost not letting it escape at all.
"Baby, I meant every single thing I’ve said today. I love you so much. I’ve been carrying this around for a couple of months, looking for the right time to do this. But when you started pushing me away I thought maybe you were changing your mind about me. I was terrified and decided to wait, but I realize now if I had done this when I first wanted to, the last few weeks probably wouldn’t have happened. I could’ve saved you so much pain... I don’t know if this is the right time, but I do know that I’ve been ready for a while and right now I honestly can’t think of a better way to show you just how much you really mean to me. So…" he opens the box to reveal a rose gold ring with one big diamond at the center and two smaller ones on each side of it, then he takes your free hand on his. "Doll, will you marry me?"
He can feel you trembling, tears forming in your eyes once more as the whole room seems to hold their breath.
"Yes!" you're finally able to get out and Bucky feels like he can breathe again, happiness spreading throughout his whole body.
You basically throw yourself on him and he catches you with ease, getting up on his feet while you wraps your legs around his waist like a koala.
There's a chorus of cheers, the team immediately gathering around you to congratulate you both.
It feels like too little time when you finally detach from Bucky as he gently put you on the ground before slipping the ring on your finger and kissing it, his eyes never leaving yours, silently telling you he belongs to you and only you.
You’re about to lean in for a kiss when two strong arms pick you up making you squeal, Steve’s laughter in your ear as he says something about finally having a sister-in-law and making everybody laugh.
After a good 15 minutes of hugs left and right, Bucky intervenes.
"Okay, okay, can you please not smother my future wife?" your heart skips a beat when he says that and you're sure you're smiling like an idiot as he makes his way through the team to get to you.
"You know, he actually asked me for my blessing. I told you he cares very much about you." Tony whispers to you while he passes, giving you one last squeeze and a wink before everybody gives you and Bucky a moment.
He wraps his arms around your waist and finally kisses you.
When you pull away you both have big, goofy grins, never wanting this moment to end.
There's no separating you, and now everybody knows it.
Requested taglist: @aesthetic0cherryblossom @buchi91 @sapphirebarnes
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inevitably-johnlocked · 1 month ago
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What's Been Going On.
Hey gang.
First off, before I make a cut, I just want to thank y'all for your patience and understanding the past couple months with my... distinct lack of interesting posting. I really appreciate it. I spend so much time here that I tend to eventually burn out and then feel bad when I physically can't provide y'all with new stuff. I love this blog and the community here, and I'm grateful that y'all are so understanding.
The TL;DR for those who aren't able to read below the cut due to the content warnings: I've lost 2 relatives in the past couple weeks, and one of them hit me very hard. I am sad, but I am trying my best to carry on. It will hurt for awhile, and I'm not okay right now, but I will be... I always am.
Below the cut, cw for descriptions of deaths, cancer, depression.
So, as I mentioned, I lost two family members in two weeks, almost exactly a week apart from each other. One, my youngest aunt (dad's sister) who I wasn't close with but I saw occasionally, from a sudden heart attack. The second, a little over a week later, was my uncle (dad's brother and my godfather) after a LONG battle with various cancers but the final one was leukaemia, and he passed away this past Monday. This is the one that hit me like a freight train because I was very close with this uncle.
For context, PRIOR to all of this, I haven't been sleeping well since just before the time change for some reason – so about a month or two. I just can't sleep through a whole night anymore, and it's frustrating and leaving me exhausted for weeks on end (the insomnia is important to note and it will be relevant in a sec).
Last year I think it was, maybe the year before, my uncle was diagnosed with throat cancer. He had undergone months of radiation and it went into remission. Then about a year or so, it came back as a different cancer, but I can't remember which one it was. Half a year ago, he got leukaemia, and was undergoing chemo and blood platelet replacement therapy for a few months.
On Remembrance Day weekend (November 11), the family found out that there was nothing more they could do for my uncle's treatments. This was devastating news for all of us to hear. Of course we hoped he would be okay until after Christmas, but his prognosis was already less-than-2-months after that revelation.
A week later, my aunt passed away suddenly. No pre-conditions other than probably being overweight and a heavy smoker, but my cousin (her 17-year-old daughter) found her in her room. I am closer with the cousin than the aunt, so I was texted by one of my other aunts at 2am Friday morning to talk to my cousin, since I have gone through a traumatic sudden-death of a parent and this cousin trusts and relates to me. And the only reason I saw the text was because I was already awake due to my insomnia. I called the cousin and stayed on the phone for 6 hours with her to ensure she was going to be okay. I took the day off work to sleep.
Exactly a week later, my uncle was rushed to the hospital with a brain bleed and pneumonia. I was texted by a DIFFERENT aunt, this one being the one I am closest to and knows how close I am to my uncle, last Thursday. I found out on the Friday I took off of work that he wasn't going to get better, that the bleed was essentially killing him slowly.
This uncle, for outsider understanding, essentially became a second father to me after my dad died and I moved to be closer to his family. He became the parent my mother wasn't. This uncle ensured I was always okay, and would drop everything for me. So to say I was devastated to learn that I was losing him forever brought up a lot of core memories from when my dad died is an understatement. First, my aunt dying young, like my dad, from a sudden heart attack, like my dad. Then my father figure in my life dying shortly after? Lots of turmoil this past couple weeks for me.
On Sunday, November 24, I said my final goodbye to my uncle, and he passed away on the 25th. It hurts so badly that I want to scream non-stop. I took that Monday off to grieve, and worked from home the rest of the week to sit in my grief alone. One of the things I am so grateful for was that I was able to say goodbye to him, and to tell him how much he meant to me, how much I love him. It gave me a sense of closure that I didn't have with my dad when he died. One of my biggest regrets about my dad passing is that morning he died, I never said "I love you" like I usually did because I was running late for work.
I did not want to make that mistake again. I got to hug my uncle, and tell him I love him so, so much, and I got to thank him for always being there for me when dad died. That he helped me through my grief when I finally did break three years after he died.
I let him know he was loved; I am so grateful for that opportunity.
I miss him so much it physically hurts.
Just because his death was inevitable, it doesn't make it any easier. It feels different than my dad's death, for sure, in the sense that I lost dad too young and unexpectedly. But it still hurts to lose someone I love even if I know he's leaving us. I am just glad he's not suffering anymore; he was in immense pain when I saw him last.
So, this past week, I have been sitting in my grief, crying at mundane things because they remind me of him or things we did together. I've played video games to distract my mind, and tried my best to work on this blog, albeit at a minimum.
The surprising thing I think about this whole ordeal is the immense support I'm getting from my coworkers, and my employer's understanding about my situation. I have a job that's primarily digital, so they've let me take as much time as I need to feel up to working fully again, and I am just EXHAUSTED, but I want to try to go back to the office on Monday, to get back to the routines that make me feel comfort. Work has said that if I'm having a hard time I can go back home, which, again, is so generous. I was at a different job when my dad died, and they didn't want me gone more than a week. This has been literally 2 weeks non stop of me working / not working / working from home..... I just cannot wait until Christmas break so I can finally just REST. I am extremely lucky to have the job I have, and I am very aware of that. The fact that they're letting me have more grievance leave than normal for a non-immediate family member boggles my mind, but again, I am grateful.
So yeah, that's what's been going on with me the past couple months. It's been chaotic, I'm tired, and very very lonely. AND to top it all off, I'm feeling my seasonal depression seeping in earlier than normal because of all this stress and anxiety, and I just... ugh. I need to get back to routine.
This is also why I'm doing the Christmas cards this year... because I want to have a bit of happiness this holiday season in what will probably be even more depressing than normal. My Dad's death-iversary is on January 11, and will be 17 years since his passing. It will be harder to cope with this year more than ever now, I think. Best I can do is continue to talk to my therapist to keep me from sinking further, and not bottle everything all up like I did 17 years ago.
Thank you all for your patience and understanding. I haven't been "feeling it" these past couple months, and I know it shows in the lack of content I've been posting or producing. But I am so grateful to this community for understanding without the context y'all didn't have before now, and I hope you guys understand that I won't feel like myself again for awhile.
I'll try my best, though.
Love y'all. 💜
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riality-check · 12 days ago
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hi, I'm new to arcane and I've been going a bit nuts trying to figure out what viktor's disability might be so I can write him right. I'm also disabled in my right leg but I know for sure we don't have the same thing at all.
I've seen people say his back brace is for scoliosis, and you write him as having a disability that leads to that, so it sounds like you have a pretty specific thing in mind! Could you please tell me what you're thinking of, so I can do my research? Or is there a lore bible or something with all this info that I just haven't been able to find? Any help would be super appreciated, thank you
Hi anon!! I'm also new to Arcane (literally became a fan less than two months ago) so I feel like we're in the same boat!! Theorizing about this was a very fun part of brainstorming for my current project, so I'm using this as an excuse to infodump about that part of the process. This might be long. Sorry (not sorry) in advance!
I wanted to write a Viktor character study informed by his experiences with ableism and classism in Piltover (be the change you wish to see in the world, and all that), and I was particularly inspired by this post discussing the specifics of his disability. Obviously, that's the only canonical disability (beyond the terminal illness caused by exposure to the fissures) that Viktor has, but I got to speculating.
There are a lot of conditions caused by poverty, whether from lack of sunlight (obviously rampant in Zaun) or food deserts (also probably common) or other socioeconomic issues. I did some research into what some of these conditions were and assigned some of the most likely ones, given what we know in-universe about living conditions and Viktor's appearance/progression, to Viktor in my series. These additional (non-canonical) conditions are as follows:
Rickets (caused by a Vitamin D deficiency, can result in bowed legs as referenced in the post about his leg, as well as progressive scoliosis if acquired in childhood)
The progressive scoliosis, as caused by the rickets.
Calcium deficiency (coupled with the Vitamin D deficiency, this is a big yikes; also causes slightly yellowed teeth if acquired in childhood. Kind of went on vibe for this one)
Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (This is genetic, not environmental. I thought the leg brace being multi-functional was fun, and earlier drafts of the project had a section in which baby Viktor makes temporary friends by showing off "party tricks" common to those with hypermobility.)
I hope this answers your question! As far as I know, there's no lore bible, just one post that inspired me and some of my own rudimentary research. If anyone else has any additional info they'd like to add, please do! I love dissecting my blorbos.
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postwarlevi · 2 years ago
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Content: 2.4k words of dad to be Jean worrying maybe a little too much about you and the baby.
a/n- first time with established relationship with Jean! Kind of got away from me but I hope you enjoy anyway :)
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"What are you doing?!" You freeze at hearing your husbands voice ring out. Caught again!
"Nothing! I was just-" You don't even get to finish your sentence before Jean is scooping you up into him arms, off the first step of the little stool and back onto completely solid ground.
"You were just getting off of there!" He says, taking the stool and removing it from the kitchen.
"I was just trying to reach the flour!" You follow him into the living room, explaining yourself.
"I could reach it for you, just ask me." He says, turning back towards you once the stool is far enough away.
"Okay, could you get me the flour?" You mumble, not meeting his gaze.
He hugs you around the waist, petting you hair. "Flour would be for.. baking?" He asks in a way as if you are doing something wrong.
You huff at him. "Of course! I was just going to make a little strawberry dessert!" Just a little something!
"You know you can't have a lot of sugar." He speaks calming and still holds you despite your obvious rising irritation.
"Jean!" You whine at him. "I can't go the entire time without something sweet! And you love strawberries!" You would have preferred a blueberry dessert, but were hoping by making it strawberry, you could talk him into letting you make it.
He smooths your hair back and kisses your head, ignoring the daggers you shoot at him from under your lashes as you look up at him. "I told you, I wouldn't have it if you couldn't have it. And, you can't have it. Not yet." Not even strawberries would entice him.
"You don't let me do anything!" You sigh in defeat and lay your head against his chest, annoyed, but still showing him acceptance and appreciation, knowing that he has your wellbeing in mind.
"I'm going to let you give birth in a couple months." He chuckles, rubbing your belly.
Your mood changes instantly and you grin and hug him for real.
"Yes, a couple more months. A couple more months of not letting me do anything." You say playfully, looking up at him.
"I know. I know." Jean let's out a tiny sigh. "I can't help it. It's our first baby. I've always tried to keep you safe, and now I'm keeping both of you safe. It's stressful." He says, a bit of worry in his voice.
"Honey, nothing is going to happen. But I promise, I won't get on step stools anymore. And I'll keep my sugar intake down, mostly. And I won't go water the plants when it's too hot, and I won't get in the car when Sasha is driving, and-"
He cuts you off with a snort. "I know I can overreact, and I won't promise I'll get better. But you shouldn't let Sasha drive no matter what your condition." You both laugh together.
You both find something to eat and settle down on the couch together and watch a bit of television. You sigh happily and kiss Jeans cheek, who smiles at you. You never really get mad at him, and neither of you can stay annoyed for long.
You try to be understanding. This is your first child, after all. Six months ago a little life had been created and now in three more months they would be here.
Though you've been a bit nervous, overall you've held it together. Children are born every day. There's no reason for any nerves. Your husband, however, is a different story.
Not only is he insistent on listening to your doctors to a tee, he has been reading baby books and perhaps has taken up a bad habit of searching the internet as well. Any little ache or pain you get, any sneeze, any new craving, Jean is right on it. He doesn't let you lift a finger if he can help it. He doesn't let you do anything that could compromise you. Nothing, at all. It's been a lot, and you would possibly kill for something sweet at this point. But you know he has yours and your little ones best interest in mind.
"I'm gonna go out with Connie and Marco for a bit tomorrow, is that okay? I could stay home if you want." He asks you as he puts his empty plate on the coffee table, making you almost laugh.
"Of course you should go, I don't want you stuck with me all the time. Save that for baby." The house to yourself? Even just for a little while? It sounds wonderful.
"Well, it's not stuck babe, but, thanks. Sasha said she'd come stay with you." Though he wouldn't let her drive you around, Sasha could come to the house.
"Honey, I don't need a babysitter." You almost pout. You love Sasha, she's your best friend, but you haven't had a moment to yourself in… months.
Jean takes your almost empty plate of healthy snacks and puts it aside, pulling you to his chest. "I know." He knows he's being silly, but with you, he wouldn't take any chances.
You put your arms around him and close your eyes. "Okay. Okay." You say quietly. Maybe girls day would be nice.
You're only allowed light duty at the moment and are lucky Jean let's you stand long enough to wash the dishes yourself. Though he is never far.
Later in the evening he helps you into the bath and you relax pretty good. You wonder if maybe you can talk Sasha into taking you for a walk in the park tomorrow. If it were up to Jean he'd push YOU around in a stroller. You just want to stretch a bit.
"I love you." He says to you once you're in bed for the evening, after helping you dry your hair. He has you pulled in close and strokes your hair.
"I love you too." You say softly, kissing his mouth lightly and snuggling in close to your sweet, warm lover.
Really, how lucky you are, that you have a husband so caring and loving and involved in the whole process. You would take that and not being allowed to get out of bed yourself over having to do this without a partner.
The next day when Sasha arrives she makes quite the entrance, making you light up.
"Worlds best auntie is here!" She sing songs and pats Jeans arm as she comes in.
"Sasha, please!" Jean tries to settle her down. "Remember what I said." He goes over a few things, like no sugar, making you roll your eyes.
"Yeah, yeah, leave, go, your wifey is fine with me." She comes over to hug you and you giggle.
"Go on you." You agree as you hug Sasha back, then go over to Jean. "I'll be good." You promise him, giving him a kiss before sending him on his way.
To Sasha's credit, she takes very good care of you. Helping clean up and doing whatever you want that's within reason. You do go for a short walk, but it turns out, you get tired fairly quickly and head back sooner than you thought.
Sasha also sneaks you a piece of dark chocolate, and you almost melt as you eat the semi sweet goodness.
"Thank you!" A little walk and a piece of candy and you are magically still in one piece. Perhaps you wouldn't mention some of this to Jean though. Especially when you realize your feet are swelling just a tiny bit.
"Can I feel?" Sasha asks you with wide eyes and an outstretched hand as you both sit on the front porch swing.
"Oh course." You stick your belly out more and smile as Sasha puts her hand on your stomach.
"Are you nervous?" She asks quietly, as if she's going to scare you or the baby.
"About giving birth? Yeah, a little."
And for the next little while you talk about the topic and how you're doing and how Jean is doing and if you're ready, and so on.
"The guys really had to convince him to go out today. He doesn't want to be without you." Sasha tells you.
"Yeah, I know. And it's great, really, though I appreciate you guys helping out. Jean is just so… worried." He kind of always has been anxious over things, it's gotten better over the years, though it's come back strong with the new addition coming.
"You help him through it, you know. He loves you so much." Sasha says of her friend. She's known him a long time and sees how good you've been for him. He deals with things much better thanks to you.
It's not long after that Jean is home and he and Sasha trade off. You say your goodbyes to Sasha and hug your husband.
"How was your day?" You ask as you sit on the couch and put your arms around each other.
"It was nice. I feel good. And, babe, I'm sorry. The guys were telling me to relax a bit, I guess everyone has been. I just want to make sure you're happy and healthy, that's it. I hope I haven't been… intolerable." He says with a grimace, realizing that he's only added to your limitations lately.
"Oh Jean, it's fine. You've been so wonderful. You're taking such good care of me, I feel like the luckiest woman. I know how much you love me, us." You put his hand on your stomach, making him smile and nuzzle you head with his chin.
"So very much, and, I worry, you know… which isn't an excuse really to have been acting like I have." He sounds disappointed in himself, making you give a sad smile.
It's really not been as bad as he's making it out. Nothing about this has been easy for either of you. More so, you've been worried about him, which he suspects, and is part of why he's feeling bad.
"It's okay Jean, really. I do understand and know you've been trying your best for all of us, and it's all I could ask for. And everything is going to be fine."
You feel him squeeze you a little tighter and he let's out a soft, "I know."
"And how was your day?" He asks, helping you off the couch and into the kitchen where he starts making dinner.
As you tell him small details of some of the things you did, you notice he does a slight double take and frowns. You pause, knowing you haven't said anything he should scoff at, so, it must be…
"Your feet are a little swollen. Did you go walking?" He asks, trying not to sound to disapproving.
You actually laugh. "Of course you noticed. Yes, yes, we went for a walk. And you and the doctors were right, I didn't get very far. But it was nice to do it anyway." You tell him, and he hears the satisfaction in your voice.
Almost done making dinner, he comes over and leans in to kiss your cheek. "Good. I'll rub your feet later."
Your smile brightens and you hug him, whispering. "I also had a piece of chocolate." You kind of broke your promise, but it really was a tiny piece.
Jean chuckles and holds your cheeks, looking into your eyes. "I'm glad. As long as you enjoyed it. Cause that's all you're getting for a while." He says teasingly and you both laugh together as you continue your evening.
The next few months go by faster than you can imagine. Jean is still very protective but tries to let you indulge sometimes.
Before you know it, a healthy baby boy is born, and you become the most happy, doting parents on the planet. Any tiny cry or cough and you are both right there. How Jean has been acting and treating you, you understand more than ever now.
Jean is still the more anxious one. He's ready to call the doctor over anything new or unexpected, no matter how small. He tries to be more calm so it doesn't affect you or the baby. He's been making pretty good strides the last few months.
"Honey, I think you can put him down now." You say one night, standing in the nursery, after finally getting him to sleep.
"I'm never putting him down." Jean says in the most sweet voice you've ever heard from him as he looks down at your sleeping son. This is not nerves but love, and happiness.
It warms your heart and you rest your head on Jeans shoulder, stroking your babies hand gently. "Our boy." You smile, and soon find yourself back in your bedroom with baby resting on Jeans chest as he sits up in bed.
"You can't sleep like that." You remind him that it's safer for him to sleep in his crib, earning a soft grunt from Jean.
"Just a little while longer." He says, pulling you close once you're in bed too.
"You're doing such a great job, daddy." You tell him, snuggling against his side, enjoying the quiet evening with your two loves.
"So are you, mommy. I couldn't do this without you" He kisses your head.
"Me neither." You whisper, making sure he knows how much you need him.
The three of you cuddle for a while until finally putting baby back in his crib.
"Maybe we can just put the crib in our room." Jean says as you leave the nursery, making you giggle.
You do not put the crib in your room, and your little one is right there, safe and sound in the morning, and every morning thereafter.
It takes more practice, on both your parts, but most anxiety of raising a child turns into positivity and creativity over time. There's still bumps as he grows and gets older and everyone experiences new and different feeling and emotions. There are highs and lows like doctor visits, losing a tooth, throwing tantrums, making friends, birthday parties, getting good grades in school, and sometimes not so good ones.
It all comes up again when baby number is announced, but the joy and love outweigh any nerves, as you and Jean look forward to meeting another new little life, ready to do it all over again, and give your son a sibling.
"And I promise, not to ban chocolate." He gives his word, and keeps it. This time around, both of you don't feel like novices anymore.
Though, you don't think you've ever seen quite the look on Jeans face when you find out this one's going to be a girl.
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am-i-the-asshole-official · 9 months ago
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AITA for getting upset at my best friend for calling me a hoarder in passing?
My (29NB) best friend (also 29NB) have been going through major crises lately at the same time—we will call them Sun. So, yesterday, they sent me a text, when we weee talking about how they haven’t wanted to be over at my house for a while, mostly bc they don’t like my partner…although the subject was in discussion bc my partner and I are splitting up, and I will be living alone again in a couple months. At some point in this discussion, they mentioned the more pressing matter that’s caused them not to be over as much is that they are very allergic to one of my cats—but only the one I just adopted a couple years ago, they’ve had no allergy issues w the other one and they love her very much, she is their niece.
However, at one point, they mentioned that a few years ago, when I was using drugs a lot more irresponsibly than usual—to the point where I got injured from falling down the stairs—they had been speaking to my other close friends. Which is appreciated, and I knew about this already obviously since there was an intervention that happened around that time…the way they mentioned this was upsetting. Specifically, they mentioned that “they approached [other friend of mine] about my drug use bc they thought I was becoming a hoarder” and that MAJORLY triggered me—specifically the hoarder comment. The woman who gave birth to me/raised me is a hoarder, which is a well known fact to just about anyone who is close to me irl, especially anyone who’s known her irl, and ESPECIALLY Sun, who worked as her caregiver for quite a while. Also being compared to/told I am just like my abusive egg donor is the thing that will hurt me the most, bc she is the most cruel, manipulative, abusive people I’ve ever had in my life.
So the thing is, my house is indeed very messy…I have too much junk around, and it’s very difficult for me physically to keep anything clean. It’s actually one of the reasons I’m separating from my partner, and as ashamed as I am about it, I understand. However, it’s not a hoarding disorder at all—I don’t hold onto anything I don’t need out of sentimentality, and if I could wave a magic wand and simply get rid of all the extra shit I don’t need/make everything nice and clean, I would. Unfortunately, I am very disabled with too many chronic pain/fatigue conditions, and actually cleaning the house/sorting through shit to get rid of takes immense physical effort. But whenever someone offers to help me, I jump at those opportunities! I take things to be donated all the time (if I’m able to sort through the stuff that needs to go) and it’s entire worlds different than my egg donor refusing to give up several bins of my baby clothes bc she can’t bear to part with them, despite them never seeing use in her possession ever again.
So, I responded to Sun’s mention of a past conversation thinking I’m a hoarder, with offense and saying it hurt me. We had been discussing just downsizing and how we will be going through my stuff as we pack for the new place, and had mentioned that I should make sure to get rid of certain clothing things if they have holes/are worn out/whatever, which to me, sounded like they think I have a hard time throwing clothes away even if they’re not even wearable anymore. With that and the hoarding accusation in mind, I told them I was very hurt by this. I made sure to be respectful and kind yet assertive, but after explaining how this was an unfair assumption/description of me, they got upset and said I should’ve asked for clarification before coming at them.
Now, do me, I wouldn’t have even considered they meant anything other than how I interpreted it, so it would never have even occurred to me to ask for clarification if I’m not even aware there’s a miscommunication. Apparently, the reason they mentioned getting rid of clothes that have been too worn out is an issue they have themselves, but this isn’t anything I was ever aware of, and once again never would’ve thought was referring to anyone but me. They also say they’re aware that it’s my physical difficulties that make cleaning physically painful for me…but honestly, that’s not anywhere near the same as having a hoarding disorder, which is indeed what they’d accused me of.
Of course, I know the both of us overreacted—me, being offended about being accused of being a hoarder (especially since my immense difficulty cleaning the house is part of why I’m separating from my partner and is therefore something I’m incredibly sensitive about right now) and them, being offended that I took what they said wrong and being upset over some things they didn’t actually intend w what they said…but I’m just not sure if maybe I AM in the wrong here, for expressing being hurt by being called a hoarder here, or if I really am making the entire thing a big deal out of nothing.
So, AITA for voicing my offense at being called a hoarder?
What are these acronyms?
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mrs-snape5984 · 4 months ago
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“Darling you're safe with me…”
“If you're face down tryna tread the water, You know you can climb my shoulders if you need. I'd sink to let you breathe…” (“Safe with me” by Ike Dweck)
Two days ago, this beautiful artwork landed in my private messages and I can’t stress enough, how grateful I am for this unexpected gift from my friend @severus-snaps. Thank you so much to realise my idea for one of your wonderful drawings by showing my undeniably self inserted OC Jules, who’s supporting Severus in any occasion of his life - even if it’s only about buttoning up his robes. It was a true bliss, when I noticed this message of yours, my dear. Feel hugged!
Support is a great keyword for this brief post. Over the past couple of months, every here and there have been people all over the internet, who supported me with a kind gesture, some sweet words of encouragement or just by checking on me and my current condition. I feel blessed to know, that there is still some honest kindness in this world, and my gratitude goes out to all of these gems of human beings, who made my days a bit brighter. Thank you all for being a light to my darkness.
I’m always trying to spread some appreciation and kindness to others, even though I’m very aware of the restraining confines of my disease ME/CFS. Over the past 1,5 years, in which I’ve built up my blog, I gave my best to support the artists of Snapedom with so many commissions, reblogs and words of affirmation. Sadly, I’ve become a bit more silent here, but I have my reasons and some urgent responsibilities to take care of. The next months will be especially tough and challenging for me and the people, I love so dearly. So, please take my apologies for my need to keep my money and strength for my children and the path, we will have to take now. A divorce in my miserable health condition is truly no fun.
And yet, there are some very precious and important people in my life, whom I will never let down…no matter what might happen. I just wished, that I could do more…that I could be enough to make them feel safe and loved…and cared for. I’m ready to do anything to improve myself in order to offer them the support and love, they deserve! All I can do, is to be there for them…hoping they know, that my arms, ears and heart are always open for them. 🖤 It needs only one word…fuck, no…only one single glance and I’ll be there! I will find ways and possibilities to make it work. Always.
🖤Severus & Julia🖤
🖤Sevy & Jules🖤
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gaysindistress · 2 years ago
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Sad girl - twelve
summary: James has an interesting new business proposal and one hell of a condition to deal with.
pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader
warnings: cursing, Bucky’s smartass, the feelings, implied smut, Anthony being Anthony
word count: 2.8k
part 11 | series masterlist
taglist: @missvelvetsstuff @angelsincident @spencerreidisagorgman    @i-have-no-life-charlie @esposadomd @reader-without-a-story @unaxv @iateall-yourcookies  @kandis-mom @beware-my-thorns @ozwriterchick @littlelizardlizzie @alana4610 @wh0reforbucknasty
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disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on google/Pinterest
Tangled in each other’s arms, the couple’s adorned with soft morning light and glittering jewelry. In the aftermath of their night, clothes are scattered across the floor and blankets are abandoned in favor of thin bed sheets. Bodies ache from last night's activities and Doll groans as she wakes up is evidence of the toll it took on her body. Trapped against his chest, she can only stretch out her legs but the action stirs Bucky awake as well. 
“Hey there, Sergeant,” she hums, examining him as he yawns. 
“Careful,” he hums back, hauling her up so that they’re eye to eye. 
“Oh, did I just find a kink?” giggling, she lands a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. 
“Only when you say it,” a smile spreads from where her lips touched his. 
Nuzzling her head into the junction of his head and shoulder, she places soft kisses there while he closes his eyes in appreciation. There is no denying that a shift in their relationship happened last night; it is only a matter of time before someone addresses it. 
“How are you feeling?” 
She lifts her head, “Sore but good. How about you?”
“Good,” he pauses, “Are you going to tell me what happened between you and your father?”
Sighing, she drops back down, “You just had to go and ruin the moment by bringing him up.”
“Would you rather I ask when I’m balls deep in you?”
“Let’s just stop talking about sex and my father,” she clears her throat, “I didn’t know Anthony was my father for a long time. My mom didn’t really talk about it. Throughout the years, I kind of pieced it all together; it was a one-night stand gone wrong and she tried to get away because of his work. They tried to make it work but it was too dangerous so she left. It was just us, moving from city to city to get away from it all. She got caught up in drugs at some point and could never really get sober. I think I was about ten when she brought me to his apartment, hoping that he would take me. Pepper opened the door and welcomed me in. Mom said it was temporary but months went by without anything so Anthony just assumed that she had died and was granted full custody of me. Anyways he told me last night that she had shown up about 6 months ago, asking him for money but he never told me. He said he invited her to the ceremony but she never showed. That’s why we got into it.”
“Ah I see,” he brushes the hair away from her face, “I didn’t know that’s what he had planned.”
“It’s not your fault. I told him I don’t want anything to do with him or Stark Industries and I quit,” she says shrugging her shoulders. 
His hand stills at her words, “You did what?”
“I told him to get fucked and that I quit,” she says slower, not daring to move. 
“Doll, look at me.”
She sits up on her forearm, head resting against her shoulder as her eyes search his face for an indication of how he’s feeling. 
“I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself.”
“You’re not mad?”
“No, why would I be mad? He’s an asshole for not telling you about your mom and you had every right to tell him off like that.”
“I don’t know. I just didn’t expect you to be proud of me.”
His hand gently grabs her chin, “You are the most headstrong person I have ever met and you prove it to me every day. He had it coming honestly and I’m surprised you didn’t pull a gun on him.”
That earns a chuckle from her, “It was our wedding day. I wasn’t carrying but I’m more surprised that I didn’t find one on you last night.”
“There were plenty of others carrying, I didn’t see the need.”
“What if something happened? You never know when you’re a mob boss.”
The hand on her chin pushes her away as he rolls his eyes and sits up, “I’m not a mob boss.”
“That’s exactly what a mob boss would say,” she teases, eyeing his back and ass as he searches for his discarded boxers. 
“I’m a freelance contractor, a private contractor, Doll. I’m not a part of any organized crime,” he shoots back, tucking himself into his boxers.
“Oh really? I seem to remember you taking part in a business deal with a very well-known organized criminal, resulting in the exchange of illegal goods and people.”
He cocks his head at her, “Are you implying that I trafficked you?”
“In the eyes of the law, that’s what it looks like.”
“In the eyes of the law, you’re part of an illegal business front and help criminals evade police,” he taunts her back while tossing her a new pair of underwear and a shirt from her closet. 
“Admit you’re in organized crime and I’ll admit I’m into it too,” she stands and puts the clothes on, making sure to put on a show from him as she does so. 
“Now Doll, you know better than that. Even if I was, I wouldn’t go around telling people no matter how tempting they might be,” his lips are pressed against her hair as he grabs her by the hips and spins her to face him. 
“Seduction is a woman’s best weapon.”
“You are not the average woman though. You’re the new Mrs. Barnes; intelligent, stunning, quick-witted, sassy, and too good with a gun.”
“Is that what you think of me, Mr. Barnes?” she mummers as she puts her arms around his neck. 
“I could go on if you’d like,” he smiles at their closeness. 
“Oh please do. I want to know everything that you think about me.”
He ducks down to kiss her, slotting his lips against hers. His tongue pokes at her lips, asking for entrance and she happily grants it. 
“I’ll tell you in time. Right now I want to celebrate with my wife,” and with that he tosses her back onto the bed, both of them laughing wildly. 
________________________________________________________________
“Stark Towers, 10 am, week from today, Monday morning,” Doll reads the message her father sent her. 
“Why?” she sends back. 
“You quit. We have to go through your resignation.”
A deep sigh leaves her body as she tosses her phone back onto the nightstand. 
“Everything okay?” Bucky calls from behind her. 
“Oh you know my father is demanding a meeting, what’s new?” she responds, turning back to the bare man next to her. 
“Need something to take your mind off it?” the mischievous glint in his eye catches hers. 
“Depends. Does it involve you in between my legs?”
“Among other things.”
________________________________________________________________
The conference room is stuffy with the number of lawyers and other personnel jammed in it. Across from her sits Anthony, Wanda is at his side and his head lawyer Vision is next to her. The young boy she recognizes as Peter is behind him with Scott who she sends a smile. He returns it but it quickly fades when he spots a dark spot on her neck from under her turtleneck. Rolling her eyes at his reaction, she sets her focus on Anthony. 
“Is all of this really necessary?”
“Yes, you know it’s the procedure when dealing with disgruntled employees.”
“Disgruntled? Wow if that’s how you want to play this, then so be it,” she remarks, sitting up straighter in her chair. 
Anthony’s eyes flicker to her with annoyance before settling back on the document in front of him. Vision begins going over it, detailing what she’ll receive in the event of her resignation and how she’ll be removed from the company. Most of it is standard however Vision stops at the last section, looking between her and Anthony. 
“Now is the matter of who will receive the company in the event of Mr. Stark’s untimely death. Originally it was meant to pass to you, Mrs. Barnes given that you were still with the company. However, given that you have resigned, it will go to Morgan Stark. For the time being, you will be granted temporary ownership until Morgan is 21 years of age, and then ownership will be transferred to her. You will be required to attend any meetings Mr. Stark requests to maintain an updated understanding of the business.”
Scoffing at ridiculous clauses, she looks directly at her father,” Excuse me what? I quit and you still somehow are requiring me to be involved?”
“It’s the terms you agreed to when you started working for me.”
“I don’t remember this section by any stretch of the imagination. Vision you can’t be serious. There’s no way I agreed to this,” she turns to Vision who looks at her with an uneasy expression. 
“Unfortunately, you did,” he explains, sliding the papers over to her so she can see her signature from 6 years ago, meaning she did in fact agree to this. 
“Oh my god,” her body deflates as she whispers to herself, “I should’ve never gone to work for you.”
“Speak up darling,  I didn’t hear you,” Anthony taunts her. 
Taking a deep breath she repeats herself: “I said I should’ve never gone to work for you. You have taken advantage of me every step of the way. I shouldn’t even be surprised that this clause slipped in without me noticing.”
“Well you did agree to it so that’s how things are going to be,” his nonchalant tone is like nails on a chalkboard to her. 
“Clearly. Is there anything that I can do to get out of this, Vision, or am I completely fucked?”
“I’m afraid this is your only option.” 
“Lovely,” she takes another deep breath, closing her eyes. 
“Well if that’s all we have to go over, I would sign and leave,” she says, mentally growing exhausted from playing these games with her father. 
Vision nods his head, passing her a pen so she can sign away her life once again. Her new name bleeds into the paper right under her father’s signature, binding them together professionally and ruining whatever is left of their personal relationship. Papers are shuffled back into order and placed delicately into Vision’s briefcase as she stands and smooths out her trousers, rings clinging together as she does so. She throws a tightlipped smile to the lawyer and Wanda, who had been taking notes during the meeting. For her father, she sends him a cold stare as she leaves the conference room. 
Walking out of the room, she pulls out her phone to see a text from Bucky. 
“Meet me at the café by the tower when you’re done.”
“No please?” she sends back. 
“Please.”
She steps into an elevator, shaking her head at his short texts. A hand stops the doors from closing all the way and her father steps in after her. If she hadn’t been wearing a white turtleneck, she would have punched him but alas she doesn’t want to ruin her shirt. 
“Couldn’t have waited for the next one?”
“I wanted to talk to you.”
She cocks one eyebrow, “oh really? Where was that sentiment six months ago or last month or even a few days ago?”
“I’m not going to apologize for doing what I thought was right. You need to let it go, darling.”
Clenching her jaw, “What did you want to talk to me about?”
“I think John is trying to sabotage my deal with Namor.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I received a rather interesting voicemail from the Dora Milaje’s head, Ayo, last night.”
“And?”
It’s his turn to clench his jaw and take a deep breath, “They’re aware that I made the deal behind their backs and they’re not very happy.”
“What did you expect?”
“John was supposed to be handling it. Now he’s not doing his job so things are about to go down. You need to warn James.”
“Why can’t you?”
The elevator stops and dings, letting them know they have arrived at their destination. Doll goes to leave first but Anthony grabs her arm, keeping her at his side as he guides them out together. 
“We’ll just have to tell him together.”
She doesn’t have a chance to question him as he sends her a warning look and continues to usher her out the front doors. In an attempt to look less forced, he slings his arm around her shoulder, fingers gripping tightly through her blazer. Neither speaks as they enter the small café next door, quickly spotting Bucky and sitting down at the booth he is at. He doesn’t share the same confused expression that she has but instead shares a knowing look with Anthony. 
“Wow you’re in on this too,” is the first thing she says to him, leaning back in the booth with her arms crossed over her chest. 
“He only agreed to have a private meeting,” Anthony answered. 
“And what is this ‘private’ meeting about?”
“Doll I’m…” Bucky tries to apologize to her but she holds her hand up to stop him. 
“No. Don’t give me some bullshit apology.”
“It’s about Marianne,” Anthony pipes up before a fight breaks out. 
“What about my mom?”
“That day she showed up at my door, she left a phone number to get ahold of her. When she didn’t show up at your wedding, I had Scott trace it and find out her location.”
Furrowing her brow, “And?”
Anthony rolls his eyes at her impatience, “And she was at John Walker’s apartment. Scott went over to check on her and they both claimed that John had offered her a place to stay until she could get back on her feet. She seems sober even.���
“What? Did you bring her back?” her voice starts to raise. 
“Quiet down, darling. No, I did not. It seemed like she was there on her own accord so I wasn’t going to force her to go with Scott.”
“Oh but you can force me into staying a part of your business even after I quit among other things.”
“Doll,” Bucky’s voice is soft as he tries his hand at reasoning with her. 
“No James. My mom is with the man who held me at gunpoint and no one even seems the slightest bit concerned about it.”
Being called James again is enough to set the fire off in his heart. He immediately sits up, face void of expression as he goes back to sipping his coffee. 
“Things happen,” Anthony brushes off her comment, “You wanted to know where Marianne was and I told you so my job is done here.”
“Oh, it most certainly is not. You’re going to help me get her out of there,” she grabs Anthony by the arm, keeping him from leaving the booth, “You got us into this mess and you’re going to get us out.”
“Marianne is a grown woman, she can leave if she wants. As for you,” he leans down so they’re eye to eye, “You made it very clear that you don't have anything to do with me unless it’s professional so I don’t have to do anything.”
She gapes at him, mouth wide in shock from how unbothered he is by the whole situation. 
“Close your mouth. If you want her out of there, you can ask your husband,” he stares blankly before removing her hand and leaving the booth. 
Anger is radiating off of her body in waves while Bucky sits across from her with the stoic look he gives boring senators and overly drunk girls trying to get his attention. He appears completely unphased by the interaction, still drinking his coffee. She, on the other hand, is staring daggers into his soul, waiting for him to say something. 
“Got something to say?” he asks, barely affording her a glance. 
“Yeah, what the fuck were you thinking?”
“He asked for a meeting, knowing you were going to say no so I helped him set it up.”
“You didn’t think to mention it to me? Or is the secret keeping a part of our marriage now?”
“Wasn’t a secret.”
“Give me a break. Why didn’t you tell me?”
He sets his coffee down, finally looking at her, “would you’ve agreed?”
She stays silent, knowing that she very well wouldn’t have agreed. Bucky nods his head in confirmation that he’s right. Pulling out his wallet, he drops a twenty on the table and slides out. Doll doesn’t move, arms still crossed while her chest rises and falls to calm her down. 
“Let’s go.”
He offers his hand out to her but she doesn’t take it as she gets out and walks past him towards the doors. 
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fandomtherapy44 · 1 year ago
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Klaus x reader
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Summary: This story is from the perspective of Y/n Marshall the younger sister of Hayley Marshall. Side note I love Hayley one of my favorite characters. Basically Y/n will be pregnant instead of Hayley and I will be changing some things up but then that it should stay pretty close to the series. I hope you enjoy the story! Also, if you like I have a Castiel x reader
Paring: Klaus x reader
Word count: 1,449
Warnings: Some language, Typical the Originals violence, Spoilers for season one of The Originals, Pregnancy
I got the divder from
saradika
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 Chapter 4: Girl in New Orlens
POV (Y/n)                      
“Look I'm sure Y/n feels great right Y/n.” “Uh well-” “See she’s fine.” Agnes the witch had suggested that we go see a doctor for the baby and Hayley was not happy. “She’s overdue for a checkup Hayley.” I would love that but I can’t get my sentence without my protective sister talking for me. “ What is she gonna do? Pop into the Quarter for a quick ultrasound? A pregnant werewolf escorted by a witch and another werewolf? Nothing to see here!” I was about to speak for myself before Rebekah had something to say herself.
“A lot of women would kill to have a child. It strikes me as odd that you're not letting your sister take better care of hers.” I can hear the resentment in her voice because I use sound and feel the same way whenever I saw a pregnant woman before. “Um If I may Hayley I appreciate your concern but I do need a checkup and I'm sure there has to be some doctor that will see people in my special condition right Agnes.” “Yes there is, out in the Bayou, off the beaten path. Now, I took the liberty of making an appointment for you. Tonight, after-hours, just us. Vampires will never get word of it.” “See Hayley everything will be okay plus I'll have a werewolf bodyguard.” I moved to hug her and she rolled her eyes and caved in. “ Okay, fine. Bayou-baby-doctor it is.” I squeezed her with excitement. 
Agnes and Hayley walked out the room and I was left with Rebekah. “Shouldn't you be off to get ready for your appointment.” Ahh there’s the venom in her words again. “Look Bex, I hope that’s not to forward . I don't know if you knew but before a couple months ago it was a fact that I could not make my own children.” She looked stunned. So I went on. “So I know that pain of seeing around what you want but can’t have. But I was given a miracle so my wish is that you have the same.” I looked at my stomach with a small smile and walked out. “Wait, why tell me?” “So you wouldn't feel alone.” 
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We drove up to the bayou doctor’s house and from the outside it did not look promising. “This is the doctor's office?” Hayley was looking and was thinking the same things as I. “Dr. Paige is only this far out because Marcel's men kept terrorizing her patients. Go! She won't bite!” Hayley and I get out and walk to the shady looking front door. 
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“Alright dear you can go ahead and lay down here.” Dr. Paige patted the bench for me. “So first off all why don’t we go ahead and do the ultra sound huh?” She pulled out some gloves and blue gel and an old school medical tv screen. “Please lift your shirt and it might be a little chilly.” She put the gel on and I looked on the screen and there was my little girl. “Oh my gosh Hayley, do you see her!” Hayley grabbed my hand. “Yes I do, I can already tell she’s going to be beautiful.” At this moment only one more person could make it perfect, Klaus.
“Would it be possible to get some copies of it?” I asked with so much hope. “Of course darling just give me a few.” She came back with some pictures and I wanted to cry. “Thank you, thank you.” I was almost clutching them. “Why don't we finish the checkup so mama can get home and rest.” “Yes of course doctor.” “Your baby's heart rate is perfect.” “I knew it. She's a tough one, like her mom.” I said and smiled in response. She hands me some tissue to clean up the gel and looks at my shoulder.
“That's a unique birthmark.” Hayley handed my sweater to me. “We're pretty much done here, right?” She responded standoffish.  I looked at her in wonder as to what was happening. At that moment Bex sends me an text reading "Where are you?"” I responded quickly. “Your blood pressure is a bit high, I've got something for it.” The doctor turns away and Hayley get startled by a wolf howling. We get up and look out the window and see a car pull up and some not so friendly men get out. The doctor turns back with some medicine and Hayley gets on her defensive stand.
“Ahh, you know, I'm-I'm actually not that good with pills.” “Heh, neither am I, truth be told.” She turns around again to prepare some kind of shot when We see the men start to come to the house. She turns around with the shot but I quickly headbut her. And Hayley grabs the syringe and gives her the whatever was in there. At this point those men were about to enter the room I locked it. And we ran out the window into the woods just in time as they bested in.
The men who raided the clinic are still looking for us in the woods behind the clinic, and they pass us, not seeing that we are hiding behind a tree. Hayley runs up to them and kicks the first man she encounters in the gut before knocking him to the ground. I jump and kick the second man down as well as I snap his neck.
A third man tries to attack us but Hayley grabs a knife from his hands and cuts his neck with it as she spins in the air. When a fourth lunges toward her, I grab his shotgun and knock him to the ground, and possibly kill him as I kick him and beat him in the head with the butt of the gun. As I crouched into a defensive position on the ground, my eyes flash werewolf-gold as I look around for any more threats. A large, burly man descends upon her, but before Hayley can react, his neck is snapped from behind by Rebekah, who has just arrived.
"Have to say, I'm impressed.” “How did you find us?” I ask. “Your text got me halfway, vamping here did the rest. Who are they?” “Witches. Warlocks. Whatever.” “There're more of them. Run!” Bex yelled out and we ran as she fought them off. We hear grunt and i turn to see a arrows enter heart. “ Rebekah!” We both yelled out as we did arrows shoat us in the shoulder making us pass out.
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I wake up with one Hell of a headache and realize I didn't see Hayley. “HAYLEY!” “Y/N!” I ran to give her a hug. “What happened?” “I have no idea N/n but let's try to find Rebekah. “I nodded my head in agreement. 
As we walked back to the clinic I saw the person I really wanted. “Klaus…” I whispered to myself. “Y/n! What happened? Tell me what happened.” He rushed over to me and started to check to see if I was visibly hurt. “ I can't remember. Can you Hayley?” “No.” “You've completely healed. There's not a scratch on you.” Klaus at this point was holding my face.
“One of the perks of being a werewolf, remember?” “No, not that fast.” Bex ran over to me to help sit me down on the steps. “Leave her alone! [She thinks for a moment] It's the baby. The vampire blood-- Klaus' vampire blood-- in your system. It can heal any wound.” “This baby really is a miracle huh.” Klaus just started at me smiling a little bit.
“How did you escape? You were outnumbered, unarmed? Those men were ripped to shreds!” Hayley answered for us. “ I think it was the wolfs. I think there trying to protect us.” “The witches were supposed to protect you! When I get my hands on Sophie Deveraux–” “ It wasn't Sophie. It was Agnes.” I now said with venom. “ Fine! Agnes, Sophie, it's all the same to me! I'll slaughter the lot of them!” “Not if Elijah gets there first.” “Elijah? Did you find him?” Hayley asked with hope.
“He's been in touch, and he has a plan. All he asks is that we take care of you two.” She finished looking at the both of us. “ Hey, so... can we go home now? I'd really like to sleep for a few days…” I started to get up but my body could not handle it and was about to collapse when Klaus caught me. ”Ooh, I've got you, love. I've got you.” That was the last thing I heard before I passed out from pure exhaustion. 
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Hey Yawl hope you enjoyed the chapter. It was so fun writing about the werewolf fighting and of course Klaus concern with y/n. See you in the next one! Also if you like supernatural I have a Castiel x reader.
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jeonghaniehaee · 9 months ago
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txt reblogs
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master post
consists of txt fics i have personally enjoyed
order will go: name/link + author, synopsis, and my notes
you can probably tell my bias from all of my reblog lists…
read at ur own risk, some fics may be 18+ and not meant for minors
likes + reblogs for the original writer are appreciated from everyone 🤍
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soobin:
all for a bet @/jjunieworld
choi soobin has always been the popular kid surrounded by his popular friends. y/n... not so much. one night, soobin and his friends make bet that soobin can't get y/n to date him in a month. unfortunately for y/n, they're a hopeless romantic.
notes: THE ANGST? THE FIGHTING? BEOMGYU LOWK BEING A BITCH? AAHHH THIS SMAU IS SO 💕💞💓💗💝💘💖
yeonjun:
📂 working on it..
beomgyu:
e-daters! @/suwbuns
moving back to korea from america, y/n is excited to reunite with her old friends and make new ones. what she doesnt expect is to find herself reuniting with her “ex-boyfriend” from 10 years ago who she dated over minecraft. what makes things worse? he happens to be her favorite streamer who she has been pinning after for years.
notes: it’s says to be announced so i’m going to assume it’s not finished but so far these are super funny and cute too 🤞(i might be a lil obsessed)
taehyun:
killshot @/wave2tyun
your life seemed to have taken a turn for the worse the minute kang taehyun stepped foot into the spy agency you worked at. wanting to take on a challenge to prove yourself worthy of the top position, your plans were turned upside down with his addition to the mission. you didn’t think things could get any worse, until they stated one clear, mandatory condition: the two of you had to pretend you were a couple.
THE ENDING IS SO CUTE OMG AND THE PLOT AND THE sSTORY OVERALL IS JUST 😭😭😭🥹🥹
february 14th @/jjunieworld
this has to be the worst day of your life. and just your luck, the day keeps repeating. over and over again. and you don’t know why. you get to relive the same day where you finally garner the courage to ask your crush, kang taehyun, out and get to relive the part where he rejects you each time.
notes: omg this story is so cute and even the parts of angsts are just *chefs kiss* istg all these taehyun writers are messing up my already taehyun messed up heart!!!
6:41 a.m. @/jjunieworld
you’re awoken early in the morning from taehyun’s alarm to go to the gym and decide to go with him. you end up distracting him from his routine with your staring and decide to encourage him with kisses to help him.
notes: super cute read and something to read after angst (read this after feb 14th from the same writer 🙏)
cherry wine @/wave2tyun
there were many things that you were good that. cooking, however, was not one of them. the minute your uni opened up a cooking course held by the culinary arts students, your friend made sure that your name would be the first one to appear on that list- without telling you about it, of course. but, what happens when the instructor is cute?
notes: this one is pretty sweet and such a attack to ur heart with how fluffy it is 🥹 a must read frfr
huening kai:
summer’s over @/hueningsloverr
many generations ago - like, many - your family purchased a beach house in a small coastal town a few hours away from where you were living growing up. and so, every summer right after school got out, you stayed at that beach house for a month and a half, until school started again. and it had been that way your entire life.
notes: omggg 😭😭 the emotions? the angst? it broke my heart but genuinely everything is oh sosososososo perfect 🥹
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any recommendations to add? send in an ask and i’ll add it in🗞️
want me to make a different groups recommendation list? add in an request too 📃
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aladaylessecondblog · 8 months ago
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Red Mountain Waffle House, pt. 4 ("The Hand")
Sadara kept the corprus thing under wraps. She told Jiub--but no one else.
"Well if that doesn't suck shit I don't know what does," he said through the cigarette dangling from his lips, "You okay? Gonna need me to shank you before you go crazy? When did you get bitten, a couple days ago?"
"A few months, actually," she said, "That's the strange part, I haven't had any symptoms. Not a rash or a boil or anything."
There was a pause. He flicked the cigarette, opened the baggie before him, and set it on the table.
"You got the papers?"
"Do I have the papers..." Sadara scoffed. "With the week I've had I don't think I'll ever forget them again!"
She handed over the bag and Jiub set them out and started rolling their weed into joints.
"Makes me wonder why we ever decided to come here, y'know. We could be doing pretty good just killing cliffracers."
"Yeah, and sleeping outside and in all conditions...I don't want to do that again. Ever." Sadara sighed, and checked on the ash yam stew on the stove, giving it a few stirs before coming back. "Like it wasn't bad, and this time we were choosing to do it, but..."
"But you're sick of it and want a permanent roof over your head. Even if it's just this shithole."
"Exactly. See, you understand me so well."
It was a friendship that went back to when they were both young and hungry. Easier to be poor when you had someone to watch your back and help you out when you needed it. And though they'd parted a few times due to one thing or another, they usually ended up watching each other's back again. Sometimes people thought they were dating, and she'd asked him once, but Jiub didn't seem interested. Didn't like girls, but didn't seem to like guys, either...
He was always good to pretend he was her boyfriend to put off the creeps, though.
"Yeah, maybe I'm a bit tired of it too, I'll be honest...fighting and scraping and trying to heal up from all the fights with cliffracers...like...I can buy healing potions and all, but who's to say we don't get got by a pack of them at some point?"
"So we work at a restaurant where we only get shit from people on two legs."
It wasn't THAT bad, really. The corprus monsters left her alone now, and why that was she couldn't figure out. Maybe having it made them think of her as just another one of them?
There'd be time to debate over it. She'd just have to keep an eye on it, and pray it didn't get any worse than it already was.
-----------------
"Hey, hey, Greg, how ya doing?" Jiub waved as the imperial walked through the door. "So you finally decided to join us in civilization?"
"Something like that," Greg laughed. He was a fairly jovial sort, and the one with a fairly large house (how he owned it inside the Ghostfence was a mystery to everyone) and thus the guy who held all the best house parties. To be friendly with him was always a good idea, even if they weren't entirely sure if he wasn't Sanguine's avatar or something. "You two gonna be free in two weeks? Say, Saturday?"
"What's happening saturday?"
"What d'you think's happening? We'll have ale and sujamma, but if you can bring a little green that'll be appreciated."
"Can't get ahold of any?" Sadara took his order for a waffle and some eggs and stayed at his table as Jiub went to work cooking. "Or you just want some to mellow out?"
"A little of both, it's been harder to get and Jiub's always had a way with the stuff. Oughta grow your own...or maybe you do already, in which case keep up the good work."
Sadara handed him the coffee and plate once Jiub was done cooking. "He's got a green thumb. Me...me, mine's pure black, inside and out. Except for that plant on the windowsill. The local cult leader seems to think I'm Nerevar returned because he was like that too."
"Is that so? Well, that guy's a bit isolated...he'll turn up to a party now and then, but mainly to--"
The door bell jingled and in walked a pair of ordinators. One of them same as Sadara had tossed out before, and she immediately tensed on sight of him.
"At least there's none of those things in here tonight," the mer said, "You'd probably welcome them with open arms."
She didn't respond.
Greg paid and left shortly afterwards, saying he'd give them specifics on when to turn up later. Sadara went over to the ordinators' table.
"And what will the two of you be having?"
The first one was muted, tired, and asked just for some sausage and eggs. The angry one glared up at her, "A Temple-fearing waitress would be a good thing to have, but obviously we're both out of luck now, aren't we?"
"To eat, sir." Her tone was icy, and she could see the temper broiling beneath the man's severe expression.
"Coffee, and eggs."
She took the order and walked back to her place. Shortly after, Ulen entered, and the ordinators tensed up.
"Ulen, it's good to see you again," Sadara said, "The sky looks like it's been threatening to rain all day, does that mean you expect to see..."
"Ah, not today, most likely," Ulen replied. "He has much to handle at home. Something has livened him up and we are all happier for it."
His gaze such as it was, turned to hers.
"YOU again," the ordinator snarled from the corner. When his food was ready a moment later, he was still seething. "I don't care if his money spends well, suppose the ordinators stopped coming here because you're obviously in with the Dagoths?"
"I'm not in with ANYONE," Sadara replied, "It's economics. They spend more than you anyway, it wouldn't be much of a loss."
"How DARE--"
"Can we not right now?" his partner said, "We're off duty, they're not violent, it's not worth the fight."
"The duty never ceases."
A groan.
Ulen didn't acknowledge them, and spoke instead to Sadara. "Your arm, it is healed?"
"Yes. Where did you--oh, right. He must've told you. Please tell me he doesn't have me watched."
"He DOES want to be sure his Nerevar doesn't come to harm."
"HIS Nerevar?" Sadara gave a laugh, and then not wanting to appear rude quickly added, "I'm sorry, it's just a ridiculous idea to me. Me, who's never been to Morrowind before the ship brought me here, and he thinks I'm the incarnate of Nerevar--"
"He thinks you're WHAT?"
The last sentence, spoken perhaps a bit too loud, had caught the ordinator's attention. He stood up so quickly his plate was turned over and clattered to the floor.
"The SHARMAT thinks you're Nerevar," the ordinator charged forward and grabbed her by the collar, "Now you've reached the point of outright heresy and that I CANNOT ignore."
"Get the fuck off me, you creep!" Sadara moved and kneed him in the crotch.
The ordinator let go, but slapped her with his right hand a moment later. "The Temple will know. And the Temple will do to you what they do to ALL those who think to call themselves Nerevarine!"
Sadara decked him then, and dragged him outside, hearing only a faint, "I tell him not to do this shit" from the ordinator's partner, who kept calmly drinking his coffee.
"I'm not Nerevar, but I'll damn sure kick your ass like I was!" She ducked a fireball from the ordinator and gave him another hit on the jaw. The fight that followed was confusing - she would recall afterwards getting cut by his blade, getting knocked in the head, sitting on his chest and punching his face bloody, but nothing more than that. What she did remember was going back inside to clean up.
Ulen came forward to heal the cut, and she thanked him. Gladly, the ordinator's partner left soon after, saying "he just gets like this" and both of them did not return to cause more trouble.
----------------------------------
A few days later, Sadara's black eye had come in in full bloom, and she had to get a pair of shades to cover it up. The mail tracking app said the package was due to be delivered today, and she went out to the mailbox to check.
Except there wasn't one package, there was two. One was definitely the sunglasses marked "Tiber Mart", but the other was wrapped in postal paper, tied with twine, and marked only with "A Gift" in the most cursive, flourished, show-offy handwriting possible.
She brought them both inside, and after checking that the sunglasses covered up her black eye well enough she looked to the other box. A Gift. What in the hells?
Sadara pulled the end of the twine and tore off the paper. The box was neat and expensive looking, but the scent was horrendous, and for a minute she considered tossing it out. The ordinators might've sent her a stinkbomb, or something poisonous, maybe...
Against her better judgement she opened the lid.
And screamed.
There, within the box, was the bloody, rotten, bonemold gauntleted hand of an ordinator.
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misscammiedawn · 6 months ago
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Hi Wynn, it’s nice to meet you. I like your writing style, have you considered writing as a hobby? Or do you have any other hobbies?
Dawn edit: Switched out while working on the video below, some of the post was written by me.
Appreciated.
Writing is Cammie's thing. Dawn if it's a media essay.
We used to code. For Ren'py visual novels. Back before we cut ties with the game studio we called Family. The lead dev even noted to us once that we dissociate when we code which is why we forget how to code between projects and then pick it up again when working.
Sometimes we wonder if he knew about our condition before we did.
As with many things after that break-up, we stopped doing it afterwards and haven't picked up since.
Dawn once wrote about our solo project. We have no intention of finishing it.
In recent months we coded another quick game that we didn't bother finishing. The idea was trying to convince a paranoid friend you are in a time loop but he keeps changing his tell me this if you are ever in a time loop password.
The game mechanic is to work out how he is picking the password.
Here... let me show it off.
The idea is two transgender scientists in love who invent a form of time travel to go back to their younger bodies so they can transition sooner and spend more of their lives together.
The problem is the formulas were off and your character keeps waking up on the day that they started the loop on. What's worse is (after a hefty plane ride to confirm it) your partner does not recognize you. They're just a kid.
So you have to pass on your knowledge of time travel to this young person who does not yet know you and convince them to spend decades working on the fix. The good news is they are obsessed with time loops and time travel (hence dedicating their life to inventing it)
The game was going to be a puzzle based on all of the little secret rules the character Parker has spent too much time obsessing on while managing how frustrated your character is getting travelling 3-5 hours every day to have and fail this conversation.
The big themes of the game are tied up in the fact that there is no magic words you can say to make someone be part of your life again after losing them.
Here are some screenshots of the coding that we had for it:
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Anyway. It is a cute little concept. I truly believe we would get success if we fleshed it out but we've no drive to do big projects on our own.
Wynn had typed this last bit a couple hours ago before we got pulled away while working on the video:
Wondering if I can pick up editing. Video, audio, writing. Any kind of editing. It would benefit Dawn's exhibitionist streak or Cammie's rough but spirited prose.
Perhaps a thing to YouTube and look into later.
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alatariel-gildaen · 9 months ago
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Everything's going wrong, and I really feel like I'm about to lose it.
Firstly, we're stuck in a maisonette with rising damp and mould, and the freeholders are doing precisely NOTHING about it all.
This has caused major respiratory conditions for all three of us. The worst of the damp and mould is in my disabled son's bedroom - this is what it currently looks like in there
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The wallpaper and plaster have fallen away, the wall itself is actually wet, I'm cleaning mould up every day. We've had to throw away toys, bedding, books, and clothes of his that have been destroyed by mould.
We can't move, because we own the flat and no one will buy it with this problem, and we can't fix it ourselves, because its a structural issue that is the responsibility of the freeholder, and they have done nothing but ignore our pleas for the last 2 and a half years.
Ok, ready for the rollercoaster that's making me lose it? Strap in.
Now, as my son is disabled, and we're a relatively low income family, we were able to apply to the family fund for a holiday, something we've not been able to afford to do for YEARS.
This Friday, we're due to fly out to the south of France for a week. The FF awarded us £500 towards the holiday, but we had to pay the rest out of our savings, costing us just about £1200, and depleting our savings to nothing. We figured it'd be worth it - the holiday park we're going to sounds utterly perfect for him, with lots of nature, wildlife, and secure facilities with easy access. Something we simply wouldn't have even considered without the FF's help. Yes, it was still expensive, but the memories would be utterly priceless.
A couple of week's ago my car's engine light came on. Honestly something I'd probably be ignoring right now normally, but my husband was due to take his driving test in it this week before we fly out, and we are pretty sure that you can't take it in a car with the engine light showing. We managed to get it seen, and it requires around £800 worth of repairs. I cannot function without a car - it's absolutely vital for transporting my son and keeping him safe.
As I mentioned before, we've all had respiratory problems linked to the mould. My poor son seems to have a permanent frog in his throat. I've been diagnosed with asthma following a cough that I've had now since last November. A few weeks ago, my husband developed a similar nasty cough. And last week that cough suddenly got worse. He was vomiting due to the cough, in pain from head to toe, shivering and shaking.
Yesterday it was so bad, we called NHS 111, and they were so worried, they sent out an ambulance.
He's been admitted to hospital with pneumonia caused by the damp and mould. He can't take his driving test (obviously) and we are most likely going to lose out on our holiday.
I'm self employed but been unable to work much due to illness, but I'm going to have to put that aside.
So, I'm begging you, please help out a struggling artist, mother to a disabled child, and wife to a terribly ill husband. If I can book in a few pet portraits, I'll be able to cover our mortgage this month, and hopefully recover some of our lost holiday money, as well as keep my car on the road.
Here are some examples of my work.
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Mostly I work in coloured pencil on pastelmat, although occasionally I can also do drafting film (if the subject allows for it) Commissions are £140 for an A4 piece and that will include postage to anywhere in mainland UK - outside of the mainland, of course I'll have to charge extra for postage.
I appreciate these aren't cheap, but a lot of work goes into them. If you could please reblog to get this seen, I would appreciate it so so much.
I am in the process of setting up a website for these, but feel free to contact me here in the meantime.
Thank you so much for taking time to read, and reblogs to signal boost are hugely appreciated
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mystic-headcanons · 1 year ago
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hi! saeran helping mc do her hair/makeup? or maybe them on halloween?
decided to do both and have him help her w her halloween costume ^^
it was halloween day, the rest of the rfa would be arriving soon, and you weren’t anywhere near being ready. half of your makeup was done, your outfit wasn’t on yet, and you couldn’t seem to get the wig to lay flat on your head. saeran was next to you doing his own makeup, but when he noticed you struggling with your wig for the third time, he set down his eyeliner and regarded you with laughter in his voice. “want any help with that?” he offered, amused. with a small, slightly frustrated huff, you nodded. convincing saeran to do a couple’s costume wasn’t as easy as you thought it’d be, but he eventually relented on the condition that he got to choose the costume. with nightmare before christmas as his favorite movie, it came as no surprise that he suggested sally and jack. (next time, you thought, you were forcing him to take the character with more makeup. two hours in the bathroom, and all you’d succeeded in was getting the face paint on.) “please.” you ignored the way he chuckled, instead sitting down on a stool you had dragged in earlier. he went behind you and started to braid your hair; the feeling of his fingers running through the long strands had you humming appreciatively, slightly tilting your head back.
he worked in silence for a while, until you broke it when you opened your eyes and caught him staring at you through the mirror. “what?” you asked, watching as he set the first braid down and moved onto the next one. “you just. look very cute when you’re relaxed like that.” saeran said, smiling at you. and, well, you had no choice but to blush like that. how long had you two been together? and still, every compliment made your cheeks light up. “where’d you learn to braid?” you asked a few minutes later as the question popped into your mind. saeran paused for a moment, hesitating before slowly talking again. “when i was…in mint eye,” he began, “the sav— rika. would have me brush her hair for her. i would style it at times too, but she always yelled if i pulled even a little bit, so i started doing it less and less.” there was always a layer of shame in his voice when he spoke of mint eye, of things he learned or things he did. every time, it broke your heart. “you’re very good at this. i don’t think you’ve pulled even once.”
once saeran was done braiding your hair, putting the actual wig on was quite fast. he pinned the braids up, put the wig cap on over them, and slipped the wig onto your head. "i'm pretty sure this would've taken me hours to do on my own." you mused, staring in the mirror at the bright red wig you had borrowed from saeyoung. (you were going to buy one, but saeyoung has...so many wigs.) "thank you." you smiled at saeran and leaned over to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "you'll have to help me with my hair more often. it was very relaxing."
you finished the rest of your makeup in record time, but when you got to the eyeliner you turned to saeran, who had finished with his costume, with a pleading look and an eyeliner pen in your hand. "please? you're really good at eyeliner." you asked, and beamed when he took the eyeliner from you and leaned in close. "two months ago you and saeyoung called me dollar store gerard way, but sure. i'm good at eyeliner." "and i stand by that." you said, squeezing your eyes shut and giggling when he lightly flicked your forehead. "i'm going to make this very uneven." he threatened, but there was warmth in his voice and you knew it was an empty threat.
moments after your eyeliner was finished, you heard raised voices. when the rfa members arrived, you didn't know, but you could hear jumin, who was threatening legal action, and zen, who was yelling at saeyoung to "take the damn costume off before my face swells up." you and saeran shared a look before rushing out of the bathroom and bumping into saeyoung, who was running past you in a full. cat. costume. it wasn't just ears and tail and paws, no, but a genuine cat suit that somehow looked exactly like jumin's cat. behind him, jumin was red in the face with anger and jaehee looked like she needed several drinks before she could start processing the situation. zen was already sneezing in rapid succession and as you stepped out to greet them- and hopefully alleviate the situation- you couldn't help but think that it was going to be a very. very. long night.
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bfpnola · 2 years ago
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hello! I have mental illness myself, and have recently begun diving into your resources. I agree that your mental condition does not determine who you are, but growing up, I had a parent with NPD who was extremely abusive. I know it's not meant in a way to pretend abuse isn't real, but when I see things like "narcissistic abuse isn't real", it makes me really uncomfortable- because I have suffered it myself. I still am learning about things, so I may be misinformed, but doesn't NPD mean your personality- who you are- is supremely arrogant and self-centered, with no regard for others? The only explanation I have come up with is that creating personality disorders to label bad people is what's wrong, but I really would appreciate your response.
hey! thank you so much for sending in a question. and thank you to the 5 folks who helped out by adding their input during the making of this post. let’s break this down together!
when someone says "narcissistic abuse isn't real," it's the part in reference to NPD that matters. when we rush to automatically equate a diagnosis with abusive behavior, in many ways, we are leaning into sanism and eugenics, often the very same biologically-dependent attitudes that criminalize people of color. the abuse you faced was real and i don't think anyone should be allowed to erase those experiences for you! continuing, personality can and does influence behavior. all of these things can be true while also accepting that having NPD does not automatically make someone abusive or somehow more prone to abusive behaviors, even if that was only implied.
why though? for one, because saying the opposite absolve us of our power as well! as humans, we are all capable of harm, of hurting people, even in egregious ways. this was something i personally struggled with literally up until a couple months ago when i hurt someone i really loved. i wanted to be a good person so badly, and those around me knew how much good i was capable of spreading, so certain actions continued to slide. the reality is that i'm not just good or just bad, but human! i'm capable of hurting other people, and that's so scary to me, but it's the truth. and that's the same for everyone else. as some of our friends in BFP even said just now (not sharing their names for privacy purposes), no one (i hope) walks around saying "depressive abuse" or "PTSD abuse" even though people with these disorders are equally capable of perpetuating harm, like anyone else. cluster B disorders are constantly demonized when in reality, you and i could have both been abused by a "regular" person just the same. erasing our capability to harm not only makes it harder to hold one another accountable in the future (why should i get help or change my behavior when it's due to my disorder?), but equally pushes forth a narrative that the DSM (the book used to diagnose people) is law. what do i mean by that though?
in mad studies, we acknowledge that the DSM, rather than having distinct diagnoses with quantifiable, empirical symptoms like literally any other field of science, groups together pre-existing symptoms that tend to appear together and labels them. the diagnoses we receive are better to be thought as shorthand for clusters of commonly comorbid behaviors. and what of these symptoms? who gets to decide what irregular behavior looks like? who are we comparing Mad individuals to? who represents the norm, the "regular" i mentioned earlier? psychiatry and psychology are extremely biased, my favorite examples of which are drapetomania (a "mental illness" meant to explain why enslaved Africans kept running away from plantations), The Protest Psychosis: How Schizophrenia Became a Black Disease by Jonathan Metzl, hysteria, and prolonged grief disorder. none of this is to say that diagnoses can't be helpful or that your experiences aren't real, but to be wary of the subjectivity, biases, hierarchies, and abuse intrinsic to the field.
because of everything i just said, i feel uncomfortable setting clear delineations for what NPD is and isn't, so i'll leave that part up to a volunteer of ours actually with this diagnosis:
firstly, at our cores we are very insecure about ourselves. we put on a façade of grandiosity to feel better about ourselves and to avoid showing people our insecurities. most of us were hurt by people close to us when we were children, most commonly caretakers, and we do our best to avoid showing this insecurity and hurt. secondly, our self esteem tends to be reliant on the opinions of others. we depend on approval from other people to feel good about ourselves, because we're so insecure. NPD is also characterized by delusions of grandiosity, which is the most stereotypical feature of the disorder. but there's more than just grandiosity. we also experience what's called a "narc crash" (or just a "crash"), which typically happens after a grandiose high. these crashes involve feelings of intense shame, self hatred, etc. the other thing i would include in a definition of NPD is the fantasies, because we hate ourselves so much we are often preoccupied with fantasies of power, success, and fame to help us feel better about ourselves. in short, NPD is defined by extreme insecurity masked by delusions of grandeur, which are followed by crashes. it is also defined by dependence on others for validation since we cannot validate ourselves. a lot of people assume that we just have inflated egos and love ourselves so much, but it's all a façade to hide our extreme insecurity and lack of self worth.
TLDR: 1) the phrase "narcissistic abuse isn’t real" does not erase any abuse you faced by someone who may have had NPD but rather recognizes that the implication of all people with NPD or Cluster B disorders being abusive is not only harmful to everyone but bleeds into eugenics. 2) it's important to be wary of how we deify the DSM and the diagnoses it provides, as it perpetuates the active dehumanization of people who don't meet a certain standard. a standard set by whom? 3) NPD is characterized by extreme insecurity and dependence on others for validation, followed by crashes due to delusions of grandeur clashing with reality.
if you have any more questions, please keep sending them in to @bfpnola! for more on mad studies, here’s our study guide for beginners.
-- reaux (she/they)
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