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astrella-writes · 4 years ago

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prompt | anonymous asked: Could I get some general relationship headcanons (with some fluff please!) for Chishiya, Arisu, and Kuina 🥺👉👈 let me know if you need a more specific ask! :)

warnings | written with the intention of female pronouns but can be read as gender neutral, very minor suggestive implications, mentions of alcohol, nicotine and eating habits, might be considered kinda cheesy oops, the use of the pet name ‘bunny’.

word count | 1.4K

author’s note | ‘m loving this request. this is written with the intention of it being pre-borderlands.

Shuntarō Chishiya

- Frequenting local cafes for routinely study dates. He helps you with topics that you may struggle on and you buy him the bizarre flavored ‘treat of the week’ as a thank you. He jokes around that you’re probably using him as a test subject, because who would order sweet potato brownies with the premise that they would taste good. Much to his surprise, they actually do.

- Visiting a cat cafe once, but not getting around to completing any work. The image of Chishiya cradling a fluffy kitten close to his chest and holding softened eye contact with it is now your permanent lock screen. He has a matching lock screen of you holding a kitten from under the armpits and touching noses with it.

- Learning new skills together. Chishiya is pretty much down for anything that he considers interesting enough. That’s how you ended up frustratingly trying to follow along to a complex origami cat tutorial at 2 in the morning as Chishiya worked quietly with his earbuds in, listening to a different tutorial. Only once he presented you with a perfect paper flower did you smile for the first time in the past hour, the frustration dissipating. That very flower has claimed its indefinite place on your bedside table, something that didn’t go unnoticed by him.

- Doing escape rooms together every so often. It baffles you to some degree how he figures things out so easily, but then again, you’ve known how smart your boyfriend was since the day you met so it shouldn’t really come as a surprise. You just can’t help but admire him, and voice these admirations out loud. Your compliments being the only ones which truly affect him.

- Despite how genius your boyfriend is, you remain concerned about the mental toll college might have on him. If he is stressed, he barely gives it away, but you’ve grown to read through his indifference and pick up when something is wrong - even if he’s attempting to hide it for your disburden. You allow him to de-stress in your arms, playing with the tips of his hair and speaking through what has got him so troubled.

- Late night dates that consist of trips to the corner store where you buy your favourite snacks and walk down to the beach together. It’s a relaxing way to wind down after a stressful week filled with work and college. If it’s not too cold that night, you substitute sitting on your usual bench for a stroll along the sand. If he finds a pretty seashell, Chishiya will give it to you wordlessly.

- He buys you a lot of small things that reminds him of you. A cute keychain he found by chance while buying groceries, splurging his money on a random claw machine because he spotted a plushie character from that show you really like, buying your favourite snacks to calm you down before a big exam that you’ve been studying really hard for. It’s the little things that show how much he really loves you.

Ryōhei Arisu

- Offering him a place to stay for a few days if he needs a break from his family, Arisu will pack up his gaming laptop along with him and you two will game with each other side by side. He anticipates the moment you rest your head on his shoulder and once you do, he rests his own head upon yours with a small: “you tired, bunny?”

- Being extremely supporting and non-judgemental on the topic of him getting a job. You search listings almost daily and send any promising ones through to him, leaving an encouraging message afterwards in hopes he gets the right intention. You care for him deeply and don’t want to see his father eventually kicking him out the house for being unemployed and making the situation ten times more difficult for him.

- Helping him get out more and introducing him to places he quickly grows to love. A quaint coffee shop with a grassy roof hidden deep within the cracks that he never would have found if it weren’t for you. It’s become your usual spot for dates, and Arisu enjoys the tranquility of it all.

- Going on trips to the game store together, even though Arisu usually just buys all his games online, and he’s pretty sure you do too. Regardless, it’s an excuse to meet up and hang out for a few hours after, something he’s found has become more enthralling than gaming.

- Staying up on video call into the late hours of the night as you both battle it out on some mmorpg. You’re confused when you see his idle avatar and look over at your phone screen to find him staring at you in a trance. It catches you off guard at first, but seeing him snap back to reality upon getting caught and getting all flustered left you replaying the scene over in your head for days later.

- Dates to the arcade, because of course. You two definitely hog a specific game with a line of pouting children waiting impatiently to get their chance. Arisu only agrees to move on when you mention a new game you spotted earlier. There is no new game, you just feel bad for the kids. Once he’s caught on, you merely give his lips a quick peck and you’re instantly forgiven.

- Playing in one of those immersive game machines with the curtains on both sides, only for Arisu to stare at you dumbly, leaving you a flustered and confused mess. This usually leads to a one-sided lean in and a small make out, only for an innocent kid to pull back the curtain and run away mortified. Their screams are the highlight of your boyfriend’s day, and you swear he’s holding some mental record of how many kids he traumatize through doing this.

Hikari Kuina

- Working at the same clothing store and having Kuina intervene whenever you’re faced with a rude customer. She might not be all too friendly if they insulted you, and if getting fired is the cost of standing up for you, then so be it. You’d quit alongside her and find some place new to work.

- Helping tend to her sickly mother in hospital, whom you had made speechless upon your first visit. She was delightfully thrilled upon finally being introduced to her daughter’s significant other, Kuina sharing to you afterwards that she hadn’t seen her mother smiling so brightly in a long time. You always present her mother with gifts upon each visit, whether it be flowers or a small cake. She’s become like your own mother, and so you help pay towards hospital bills as well.

- Comforting Kuina if she ever gets upset about her past (especially her relationship with her father) or her mother’s current poor health. You make her feel so valid; it leaves her a sobbing mess in your arms as you comfort her with soothing strokes and affectionate mumbles. Once her wailing has calmed, you offer to make her favourite - hot chocolate topped with cream.

- Constant sleepovers, which include wearing face masks, ordering takeout, watching some sappy romance before switching it over to an action movie and sipping on some cheap beer. The buzz of the alcohol always makes you more daring as you suggest showering together, and you’re never turned down by your equally audacious girlfriend.

- Helping her overcome her nicotine addiction and being the initial person to suggest chewing on a dummy cigarette whenever she felt the urge to smoke. Her mother couldn’t thank you enough for getting her into this, expressing her hidden fear of having to watch Kuina smoke herself into ill health or worse, a premature grave.

- In return, she looks out for your own well-being: reaching out to hold your hand before you both cross the street, showing up with lunch the next day at work if she thinks you haven’t been eating as much lately, keeping headache pills in her bag ever since you complained about a migraine that one time, keeping an extra umbrella in the break room just in case it rains later that day and you’ll need one.

- It’s never a dull moment dating Kuina, always planning fun and exciting dates like getting drunk in a private karaoke room only for it to lead to sloppy make outs. The one time she was so insistent on riding the kiddies train at the amusement park, only for the both of you to fall off once you reached the sharp bend in the tracks. It left you both a giggling mess, but the pain afterwards definitely made the whole situation regrettable.

#chishiya x reader #arisu x reader #kuina x reader #alice in borderland #alice in borderland x reader #aib fanfic #aib scenarios #chishiya shuntaro #ryohei arisu #hikari kuina #chishiya shuntaro x reader #alice in borderland imagines #chishiya

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sif-the-tsunami · 3 years ago

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Heavy about everything but my love.

So, now that I have your attention. I guess I want to talk a little bit about my brain, and its health. I have severe depression and anxiety. I am 100% convinced that I am on the spectrum, however my GP doesn’t seem to think so, and I know that autism is difficult to diagnose in women in general. However, I had a bad brain day this week. I felt like I was in fight or flight mode all day. There was just too much input coming into my head. So I’m going to write about what I would like to do for self care this evening if my spouse wasn’t also having a bad brain day.

Being completely transparent, having two people in the house that suffer from depression (usually at the same time) can be difficult.

Ok, so. This is me trying to make my bad day better.

Content warning: anxiety attack, panic, use of meds and THC. all of this will be below the cut because I don’t want to accidently trigger someone.

Henry takes care of his love when she has a bad brain day.

When she woke up this morning, she thought it would be a good day. Really and truly. It was a nice morning, she woke up and made them coffee, took her medication on time. She even started a protein shake for her honey bunches when he was finished his work out. The difficulty started when she went grocery shopping. The anxiety started when someone asked if she was who they thought she was. She hadn’t expected to be recognized and it caused her to panic about how they had interacted. Did they think she was rude? Were they disappointed by her?

After their interaction, the grocery store just seemed louder. The fabric of her shirt started feeling overly itchy and everything felt like she was being constricted. Then it hit her. The feeling like she had a hand holding onto her heart. This was going to be a full blown anxiety attack.

Normally when it would start happening, she would text Henry something like “Distract me please.” She described her mental state as being in one of two ways “Logical brain” and “Anxiety brain.” Anxiety brain was about to take over and it was only a matter of time.

Today though, she knew he was going to be on set fairly early and he wouldn’t be able to have his phone on him. Knowing that it would be unlikely she would get a response any time soon, she still sent out a request for assistance. When she got home, he still hadn’t responded to her.

That is when anxiety brain decided to take over. What if he was mad at her for being too codependent? What if he wasn’t texting her back because he hated her for ruining his life? What if he had gotten hurt and they didn’t tell her? Her body was tense. Her main was racing a million miles a minute. This was hell.

Frantically searching through her medicine cabinet, she located a package of THC edibles she had purchased to help address situations like this one. She popped in a medicinal gummy bear and began trying to calm herself down. She grabbed her iPad and started playing solitaire. She couldn’t tell you why but it helped her. Mahjong was also high on the list on calming activities. Soon the grip in her chest started to let up. It felt like she could breath again. The lessening attack made her realize that her body felt like she had been hit by a bus.

Realizing that the best thing she could probably do at that moment was take a bath, she ran the tap as hot as she could handle it and dropped in a lavender bath bomb and turned on a sound machine to play a thunder and rain combination. It helped calm the storm in her head. As soon as she begin to feel safe, the tears start streaming down her cheeks.

A little while after climbing into the tub, her phone vibrated. “Its been a long day, I just saw your message. Are you okay?”

“No, not right now. But I will be.”

“I’m coming home, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Baby, its fine, you don’t need to leave. I’ll be alright.” in a half an hour she hears the telltale sign of his arrival home. Kal snuffles and snorts his way to the bathroom and pushes the door open, greeting her with a puppy smile. Henry follows him shortly thereafter and tries to get Kal out of his love's face, but he plops down on the bath mat, looking at his human like "no sir, this is where I am needed."

Henry leans down and kisses her. "I'm sorry, my darling, do you want to tell me what happened?"

She starts from the beginning and tells him everything. The tears start up again when she said she was too ashamed of her panic attack to text his assistant a random question just to make sure everything was fine. He reassures her saying that they are a team and he was sure that it wouldn't have bothered her.

"What can I do to help?" He asks her fairly sure of her answer.

"Can we go lay in bed for a little while? I want to feel you against me." She says, rubbing her face and causing her mascara to go everywhere. He helped her out of the tub, and dried her off with a fluffy towel. Without waiting to ask her, he picks her up causing a few verbal protests but she quiets down and leans her head into his chest. "I'm sorry," she whispers.

"For what, dearest?" Knowing her love of Sense and Sensibility.

"I feel like I ruin your day a lot. That even being medicated I'm not normal yet. I don’t know why you put up with me and..." with a wave of her hands, "all this."

"Well, I love you, and I mean all of you. That includes that marvelous brain of yours," he tells her. "Neither one of us are perfect, here we are."

Henry gently places her naked body on the bed. He removes his own clothes and gets them situated, tucking them in under her weighted blanket.

"Henry?" She says in a small voice.

"Yes, darling?"

"I love you too."

#henry cavill #my apologies to henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #fanfic #henry cavill rpf

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b0ytemper · 2 years ago

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All it took was leaving the apartment once or twice without a mask because they were in the laundry, occasionally forgetting to wash my hands after coming home one too many times, and now I feel well and truly fucked. There’s no tests available but I am sure that this is covid. Near constant nausea, sore throat, coughing, chest pains, vomiting, insomnia, anxiety, brain fog and depression, weakness and body aches, dead appetite, altered smells and tastes. I feel like a brat complaining about how hard it is now that I’m technically in long hauler territory passing the two week mark when lots of folks are looking at months, years, possibly their whole lives, but I’m crazy scared. Dealing with being too nauseous to eat or sleep properly for 18 days has worn me completely threadbare and the fact that I have no way of knowing how long it could go and it could maybe go forever if my heart doesn’t randomly give out first is fucking terrifying.

And I’m vaccinated. If I didn’t get the vaccine I’m sure I’d be intubated or dead right now. And I was careful. Not as careful as I should have been, but I’ve been staying home, saying no to large gatherings and crowded indoor spaces, I’ve been getting groceries delivered and shopping online, I wore my masks and kept my distance. I stopped going to in-person therapy for a long ass time. I was lonely and scared and my mental health suffered. But I got tired and complacent and sloppy and now here I am, feeling suicidal after only being able to sleep for two hours and barely being able to choke down plain sandwich bread and dry Cheerios for breakfast.

I don’t think I could have survived saying no to ever going out or meeting up with friends for all this time, but I regret getting complacent and letting myself be gaslit into feeling like the pandemic was over because that seemed like the easier and more pleasant reality. I regret not buying more masks or carrying hand sanitizer with me or getting passive about keeping a 6 foot distance on the train, I regret letting my family come visit from our of state and I regret not turning around and going home when I saw a building is too crowded to enter.

I know that after three years and under this shit government and society that won’t do shit to help us and just wants us to keep working till we drop dead, it’s hard to feel like it’s worth it to stay disciplined.

Please stay disciplined. If you have to work or see a friend or go to therapy or take a walk to keep your head on your shoulders and a roof over it, do it, but do not slack wearing masks, washing your hands, keeping your distance, saying no to risky situations, taking care of your health, quarantining and getting tested (if you can) when you feel sick, and getting vaccinated. Even a more mild case of covid like mine is hell. It’s easy to look at 18 days and think it doesn’t sound so bad when compared to long haulers who have been sick since 2020, but even this is really challenging.

Do not get flippant about covid no matter how much the news, your boss, and your conservative grandmother on Facebook want to convince you that it’s no big deal. Coronavirus is a hellish disease that will fuck you absolutely sideways if you give it the chance.

Please stay safe, stay informed, stay disciplined, and take care of yourselves. Don’t give up on doing the hard work of knowing the risks and balancing them with your wellbeing to the best of your ability. Don’t turn your back on this virus because you will be taken by nasty surprise.

Vaccinate, mask up, and stay healthy.

#long post #Covid #psa #covid 19 #coronavirus #long covid

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imaginesupply · 4 years ago

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Homecoming - Chapter Three

(Gif's not my own.)

Summary: The day has arrived, Captain Syverson is going home. For good, this time. He is going home to a civilian life he can hardly remember and a wife he barely knows, with memories of the war still fresh on his mind. Love might not be able to heal everything on its own, but it’s a good start.

Genres: Romance, drama.

Story warnings: Smut (always fully consensual), mentions of PTSD and nightmares and mental health, angst, hurt and comfort, fluff, mentions of war (minor), mentions of cheating (minor), mentions of pregnancy (very minor), police appearance (very minor), violence (very minor).

Notes:

It’s my first time writing for one of Henry’s characters and I’m unsure I did Sy’s character any justice.

This is a Capt. Syverson x OFC (Ada) story, written in 3rd person POV but OFC’s physical description is very limited so it could also be read as Capt. Syverson x Reader, I think.

English is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes. Proofread, but not beta’ed. We die like men and all that.

Timeline is a little wacky: The movie takes place in 2003 and the U.S. forces were withdrawn from Iraq in 2011, but I never set a precise date because I don’t think it’s essential for this story. However, some elements might not be realistic because if we set this story in 2003: Phone cameras quality was not as good as it’s now, but for the purpose of the chapters, I will need you to imagine you could film great videos with your flip phone haha. Plus, it says Sy is coming back after being deployed for more than three years which makes no sense unless we set this in 2006 or later. I am asking you disregard any time inconsistencies.

Also: I am not American. I only lived in the US for six months and it was in the Midwest, not Texas so please bear with me if I write something stupid.

Finally: This will be a Christmas fic and I intend to post the last chapter (there will be seven in total) on or before Christmas. However, religion is never mentioned in this story and the Christmas-sy elements of this story are limited to family gathering, gift giving and tree decorating.

Chapter Three starts after the cut. (Chapter Two can be found here.) Let me know if you wish to be tagged in future chapters or if you wish to be removed from the tag list.

Chapter Three

Chapter warnings: Smut, alcohol consumption (moderate), mentions of contraception and of pregnancy.

I think that’s it, but this chapter killed my brain – it was very difficult to write and I feel like I botched it. There are various important moments in this chapter that I found very hard to translate from my brain into words. And the smut, oh my God, it’s so bad!

"You know, when you came to me all bossy and told me to lose my clothes, I had something a lot different in mind." Sy grumbled from the bed, where he was sat wearing nothing but boxer briefs.

Ada laughed and turned around, sticking out her tongue at him before going back to what she was doing, namely sorting through Sy's clothes in the walk-in closet. She slid a pair of jeans off its hangers and threw it at him without looking back. "I admit that I probably don't need as many clothes as I own, but you're definitely a minimalist."

Sy grunted noncommittally, he was not amused, but tried on the jeans all the same. They didn't fit, he couldn't pull them up past the thighs. "Hey darlin'," he called her, a hint of amusement audible in his voice.

She turned around at the pet name and then forced herself not to laugh at the sight in front of her. Sy had already been a burly man when they had met, but it seemed he had managed to gain even more muscle mass in the past few months, now looking like an absolute bear of a man. Ada grinned and tilted her head at the cardboard box at the end of the bed. "Put those in the donation pile."

"Yes, ma'am," Sy said, getting up and doing as asked.

Ada grabbed her small pencil and added another item to the list. "So, you need jeans, new boots, sweatshirts, t-shirts..." She went on, listing the items. What he needed was a whole new wardrobe and she was the woman for the mission.

Turning around, she found Sy rolling his eyes at her. "I ain't need no new t-shirts, woman. I got the black one, the red one and the khaki one."

Ada chuckled and approached him on the bed, coming to stand between his legs. It was unusual for her to be taller than him, and with him sitting on the bed and her standing up, she still didn't have that much of an advantage. With a grin, she leaned forward and kissed his forehead before pulling back to look into his eyes. Instinctively, almost an automatism, his hands found purchase on her hips.

"Last time you wore your red 'DILLIGAF' t-shirt, three separate kids stopped and asked you what the acronym stood for and you looked at me for help."

Sy held her gaze, not keen on losing the staring contest. Ada didn't want to relent but she didn't want to force him either, not after what had happened while grocery shopping. "It's okay if you really don't want to go, I won't for-"

Sy shook his head, silencing her before she could even finish. "Let's get this shopping over with. But I'm warning you: I'll be complaining the whole time."

For a moment, Ada pursed her lips, seemingly unconvinced but eventually her frown was replaced with a grin. "I would expect nothing else from you, grumpy bear," she teased before turning around, excited about the task at hand.

Sy left to get dressed but not before landing a playful smack on her ass.

°°°

It went just as Ada had imagined. Sy sat down on the sofa at the far end of the store, keeping everything in sight, and she would occasionally come up to him with suggestions. To an onlooker, they resembled a devout worshipper trying to make offerings to a very picky and very handsome god.

His replies to the items she presented to him went anywhere from 'no' to 'not a chance in hell', without forgetting the classic 'you lost your mind, darlin’'.

After visiting three stores and Ada trying to visually guess his size because Sy absolutely refused to try out any of the clothes, they had managed to get most of what he needed. It just turned out to be near recreations of the clothes he already owned, just bigger and newer. And with more child friendly texts.

They stopped for coffee by the center of the open-air mall. True to himself, Sy ordered just that - a coffee with 'none of the fancy shit'.

"You're sure you don't want to go to any of your stores?" Sy asked, watching her sip on her colorful drink.

Well, the idea was tempting but she already had more candles and blankets than necessary. And she knew he was uneasy even if he was hiding it well. "No, it's okay. I know you don't like shopping and I can just ask some friends if I really want to go." Sy hummed.

By the time Ada finished her season exclusive drink, she noticed Sy was staring at a shop window. She was almost excited that he was finally interested in buying clothes before noticing that it was some video game advertisement.

"You can buy the game, if you want. No need to stare," she teased.

He reverted his attention back to her. "It's only compatible with the new console that came out last month and that one's sold out." Ada started beaming as he spoke. "What?"

"Well... a few months ago, I came across the launch announcement on the Internet. And I had seen the old model in the study, so I knew you liked it and since you were coming home soon..."

Sy's eyes became even bluer for a moment, a huge grin threatening to illuminate his face. "Are you saying that...?"

Ada laughed, shaking her head. He looked like a kid on Christmas Day. "Yes. It's wrapped in gift paper in the basement under the utility sink."

"I love you, wife."

Again, she scoffed. "Yeah, yeah... Now let's go get you that damn game."

°°°

Later that day, or rather night, Sy wasn't even paying attention to the movie they, or rather, she was watching. He had gotten the gist of it - superheroes teaming up together to save the world - that sufficed him. His focus was entirely on his wife nested between his legs, her back resting against his chest.

When they got home from the mall and went to sort through his clothes and belongings, finally unpacking the rest of his duffel bag, Ada came across his dog tags. She asked if she could keep them. Sy frowned at the odd request but agreed nonetheless, shrugging dismissively.

Ada then proceeded to put the chain around her neck and slide the tags under her blouse. He had stared at her a little confused; she was smiling, looking all smug as if she had managed to trick him out of something valuable and not just two cheap metal tags hanging off an equally cheap chain.

"The fact that I get to have both your tags means I am very lucky to have gotten you back alive and in one piece. I don't want to ever forget that."

With his height advantage, even sitting behind her, Sy could see the chain disappearing under her pajamas and the tags resting in the valley of her breasts. Somehow, the sight made him feel even more possessive than the wedding band on her ring finger.

Things always had felt slightly uncertain with Ada, there had always been the shadow of a doubt in his mind when it came to her. They had gotten married on a whim and she knew he was a green beret, deployed most of the time. It's an entirely different thing to marry someone you get to see for a couple of weeks every once in a blue moon and to actually live, share a home with someone. When Sy had told her, he was coming home for good over the phone, he had half expected her to ask him for a divorce or to find himself alone at the airport. His face hadn't shown it, but when Ada put on the damn chain he had hated wearing in the goddamn desert where it would chafe his nape or get tangled in his chest hairs, Sy felt as happy as a sand boy.

She seemed honest when she said there was nothing going on with that Tom guy. Not that he could truly blame her if there was, even if it would have broken him. His parents had been married for over thirty-five years and his mom found a new boyfriend not even two years after his father's passing.

And yet, Ada was there, cuddling with him on the couch. She hadn't served him with divorce papers upon his arrival. Instead, they had spent the past few days pretty much glued together as they usually did when he was on leave.

Maybe it was time he started to believe that he had come home to his wife and she really wasn't going anywhere. Especially since she hadn't asked him to wear a condom ever since he got home and he hadn't seen her contraceptive pills on her nightstand either. Sy even checked the bathroom cabinet where he knew she kept some medication, but he didn't find anything there either. This morning, he had even considered asking her about it, but he figured that if she hadn't mentioned anything so far, it was because she wanted it to be a surprise and he didn't want to ruin it. Though he'd be lying if he said he wasn't going to be checking the same cabinet for pregnancy tests in the future.

"You good?" Ada asked as the film came to an end, tilting her head back but only getting a view of his beard. It made her smile, though. Sy really was her bear: big, strong and hairy.

"Yeah, I just," he stammered slightly as if waking up from his thoughts. "I was thinking we should probably change the stairs' railing into something safer before we have kids running up and down."

"Yep, that's not gonna happen," Ada chipped in, jumping off the couch before starting to fold the blanket.

"What?" Sy blurted out, turning all his attention to her. "The railing or the kids?"

"The kids," she replied nonchalantly, now laying the blanket in the basket by the sofa. "If you want to redo the stairs, that's fine. I think we could even paint them white."

In a second, Sy was up on his feet, his imposing stature crowding her. "What do you mean, that ain't happening? You don't want kids?"

Ada frowned, suddenly uncomfortable at his intense stare. "No.”

"Why did you never tell me?"

"Why did you assume kids were a given?" Ada retorted, taking a few steps back to put some distance between them. "I figured that if it was important to you, you'd have mentioned it sooner, at some point at least."

Sy had to fight the urge to yell at her, the feeling of betrayal and even anger overwhelming him. If he never spoke of it before, it was because he didn't want to have kids while he was deployed and miss their first years. Instead, he forced himself to calm down, taking a deep breath. "Is that a not now or a not ever?"

Ada looked away for a second, gathering her thoughts before moving her eyes back to him. "I got a new Mirena coil a couple of months ago, so I'm set for the next three years at least."

He had no idea what the fuck a 'Mirena coil' was supposed to be but it wasn't hard to figure out. Instinctively, his hand went to the back of head, raking through his short hair. "Just to be clear, Ada," Sy paused, his nostrils flaring, "you don't want children?"

It didn't even take her a second to start regretting her counter after it came out. "Do you?" She snapped back, the enunciation of the 'you' harsher than she had intended.

The effect was instant, her question giving him pause. Did he? Now reflecting on it, Sy realized he had never asked himself that question. It was just something that you did. First you got a house, then you found a wife and started a family. He had never thought about it as an option, just as the next step if he was lucky enough not to die in Iraq.

"I'm so sorry," Ada apologized, her tone alone expressing her regret. She took his hand, forcing him to look at her only to find her eyes glistening as she attempted not to cry. "I didn't mean it like that. I wasn't questioning your parenting skills. I know you'd make a fantastic father, Sy." Her eyes closed as she took a deep breath before opening them again, their corners wet with tears this time. "I just never saw myself having kids, but if it's something you really -"

"I ain't gonna force you to start a family with me," Sy rebuffed, offended at the very thought. The abruption of it even making Ada smile, if only briefly.

She shook her head quickly. "What I meant was that if you want to be a father, then I wish for you to become one. But... I won't be a part of that scenario."

"No." He said, dismissing the idea as soon as she voiced it, catching her hands in his and stilling them midair when she started gesticulating instead.

"No, this is important!" Ada protested. "I want you to be happy, Sy. And I won't stand in the way of your happiness. You deserve to live the life you want and if that includes a family -"

"No." Sy ordered, his tone final and resolute, silencing her instantly. He had never used this voice with her in the past, usually reserving it for the soldiers in his unit. "Stop with that ridiculous suggestion, woman." Ada blinked. It was obvious in her eyes that she wanted to argue but she didn't dare defy his hard stare.

Sy closed his eyes and swallowed, searching for the right words. "The choice between having kids with some other woman or getting to be with you, is a damn easy one. I'd rather we be a family of two than have children with some woman I could never love."

She was crying again, tears streaming down her reddened cheeks. Had he said something wrong? Ada didn't let him wonder for too long, her hand fisting in his t-shirt to pull him down to her lips for a ravenous kiss, their teeth clicking together.

"You know," Ada breathed out against his lips once they parted for air. "It doesn't have to be just the two of us. I am partial to pets."

Later in bed, with his sleeping wife snoring softly and her head resting on his chest, Sy tried to process their conversation only to realize there wasn't much to process at all. It didn't feel that much like giving up on a dream, as it felt like defining the contours his future with Ada. All that mattered to him was that it was a future with the woman whose contagious laugh he had manifested in his mind time and time again to drown out the sound of gunfire and make it through. Children might have been a bonus, he wouldn’t deny that, but their absence was something he could live with. He couldn’t same the thing about Ada.

°°°

"Got your," Sy paused, frowning as he read off the label, entering the kitchen, "Willamette Valley Pinot noir. How many do you need?"

Ada looked away from the oven to find him carrying four bottles of her favorite wine. Did he think they were drunkheads? "Do you want for Tom to have to spend the night here because we're all over the legal alcohol limit and unable to drive?" She laughed.

Sy grimaced. "One bottle it is," he announced, making her laugh all the harder as he set down a single bottle on the table that was already set before casting away the other bottles in the pantry - where they did not, in fact, belong.

Just as was his habit, Sy sneaked up on his wife as she leaned over the kitchen counter, putting away the remaining ingredients and hugged her back to him with one arm. He then dipped a finger in the jar she had filled with leftover caramel and brought it to mouth.

She gasped at his manners. "You can't just stick your fingers in everything that's sweet and lick it off, Sy," Ada chided. She heard it as soon as the words left her mouth, but it was too late.

A deep laugh rumbled in his chest behind her. "Can't I?" Sy goaded her mockingly.

Ada took a deep breath. She knew where this was headed and they didn't have time. It was primordial her pie didn't overcook, and Tom would be there soon. "You know what I meant," she groaned, attempting to sound annoyed but he could hear the smile in her voice.

"Do I?" He whispered against her ear, his beard tickling her skin and his warm breath making her shiver as he slid his hand under her skirt until he was cupping her damp sex over her panties. "Are you certain about that, darlin'?"

Her hands held on to the counter and her eyes closed as he started rubbing his hand along her folds over the fabric. He was also beginning to harden behind at an impressive rate. The temptation made her whimper. "We don't have time," Ada protested, even as her head fell back against him and she leaned into his touch, silently begging for more as she not-so innocently ground her ass on his crotch.

A swift glance at the clock on the wall told him all he needed to know. They had seven minutes. It would have to be enough, Sy decided. Time being of the essence, he was determined not to waste any.

“Open up your legs for your captain, darlin’,” he rasped, his nose nuzzling in the shallow of her neck, his hands already busy bunching up the soft fabric of her skirt around her waist.

“Sy,” Ada lightheartedly protested his eagerness. The idea was certainly enticing but they truly didn’t have time and she really needed to keep an eye on the pie. “We can’t-“

“I said, open your legs,” he repeated, gritting out the words as his foot snuck between her ankles, forcing her legs open himself. Sy barely had to apply any pressure, Ada complied instantly at his tone. There were very few situations in which she let him boss her around and this was one of them.

His hands brushed over her naked thighs, enjoying the way she shivered as he did so. Sliding his fingers higher up her inner legs, Sy expertly slid the scanty lace of her thong aside in order to access her clit. Ada keened under his touch, the rough skin of his finger pads slowly circling her already swollen nub. She couldn’t decide between pressing into his touch or attempting to pull away from it; it was both too little and too much all at once. “Already so wet and I’ve barely done anything to you,” he teased, hoping to sound less worked up than he was. Sy was set on keeping the upper hand. “Tell me, what is it that you want, darlin’?”

Ada whined as he removed his fingers from her core, his hands going to her hips instead and pulling her to him, letting her feel how hard he was for her. His wife reacted by rubbing her ass against him, determined to get what she wanted without having to voice it. “Sy,” she complained when he didn’t bite the bait, still grinding on him, surely getting his jeans wet with her slick.

“That’s not how it works, darlin’,” he chastised, going back to teasing her. His touch was ghostlike, too light to provide any real satisfaction and she groaned in frustration. “You have to ask for it like a good girl.”

He felt her body tense up against his as she tried chasing the friction of his fingers where she wanted them most, but Sy drew away before she could. “I swear to God I am going to make you regret-“

Smack. Ada gasped at the sharp spank on her ass, her body bending over the counter at the impact. Her ass was just too tempting in this position and Sy was running out of patience. “Ask like a good girl,” he ordered between gritted teeth, his hand descending to palm his crotch, hoping for some relief. Her little stunt was turning him on more than it should have.

“God, Sy, just fuck me already!” She sobbed, her legs rubbing together out of their own volition but her husband stayed put, rubbing his palm of his covered cock as he watched her. He wasn’t going to give up any time soon, she realized with a strangled sigh. “Please fuck me, captain,” she whispered, relenting.

Within a second, Sy was unbuckling his belt and pulling down his zipper. His cock was red, hard and throbbing impatiently. With time running out, Sy pushed himself into her without a warning. Ada whined at the stretch, gripping at the flour covered kitchen counter as one of his hands grabbed hold of her hips, the other moving to her breast. Then he started ploughing into her like there was no tomorrow.

Ada kept whimpering his name, but even she didn’t know what it was she was asking for. Her hips were digging into the cold stone and she knew there would be bruises come morning. He had barely started fucking her and she was already beginning to tense up with how worked up she was. “Are you gonna cum for me, darlin’?” Sy grunted, his jaw tense as her inner muscles clenched all around his cock. Ada nodded meekly, unable to speak. Just when he was starting to doubt he’d be able to hold off long enough for her to climax, Ada cried out, her tight walls milking him as she came. Sy exploded inside her with a strangled groan, slowly coming to a still inside her.

The doorbell rang. At seven o’clock on the dot.

"Fucking Brits and their punctuality!" Sy cursed, still panting before pulling away from her and tepidly leaving her warmth. Ada chuckled at his reaction, holding onto the counter for support for a few more seconds until she felt somewhat steady on her feet.

Sy tucked himself back into his pants and she adjusted her skirt over her thighs again before letting out a panicked squeak and turning around. Her front was covered in the flour she has spread on counter for the pie and the white handprint on her breast where he had held on to her was very visible on her black blouse. Sy couldn't keep himself from laughing. She looked great if you asked him, especially since Tom would be going to see just how well he took care of her. "I'll go get changed and you get the door!"

°°°

Sy’s eyes widened, positively surprised as he brought the first forkful of boeuf bourguignon to his mouth. The dish hadn’t appeared particularly appetizing on the plate, but it tasted so much better than it looked. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Ada glancing at him with an ‘I told you so’ smirk.

“I received a new shipment of books at the store today,” Tom told Ada in between bites. He owned a bookstore downtown, Sy had learnt. “There’s a new murder mystery I’m sure you’ll love.”

Ada stilled, a look of excitement washing over her face. “Is there… poison?”

Tom laughed. He had expected that question from her. “Ah, yes. And it’s set in the 1920s!”

Sy glanced from the one to the other, forcing himself not to sigh. Ada’s excitement was adorable, but Tom was grating on his nerves. All the conversation so far had been about novels they’d read recently.

“Please tell me that you saved me a copy.” Ada shrieked enthusiastically, prompting Tom to laugh before he suddenly producer a hardcover out of seemingly thin air. As if she was scared that he was only taunting her with it, Ada leaned over the table and snatched the book out of his hand, a smug look on her face before she started reading the back cover. Sy looked at her and chuckled, shaking his head fondly at her almost childish elation.

"So, where did you two meet?" Tom asked, shifting his attention to Sy. "Ada always told me that it was a story for another time."

Sy's grip tightened on his cutlery. Admittedly, the strong animosity toward the man had faded, but he was still not keen on making conversation with the man. "Here in Austin," Sy replied before going back to his food. Ada had to stifle a laugh at the face Tom made at the curt answer.

"I'll tell you," she offered, capturing Tom's attention. "I had just graduated with my Masters and managed to land a PhD position here in Austin. I was freshly debarked out of France and I was only to start to start mid January but I flew over in December already - wanting to fly with my own wings and all that." Tom chuckled as she gestured derisively with the story.

"Anyway, I hadn't found a flat yet, all my stuff was in a storage unit and I had the brilliant idea of going to Vegas. On my own. In a 1979 black Camaro rental."

Sy finally looked up from his plate. "It was from 1980 and it was dark gray, not black, darling’."

Ada found herself staring curiously at her husband as he interrupted her story before laughing. That's what it took to get him to talk?

"So, it was a 1979, dark gray Camaro,” Ada correctly herself. “Anyway, obviously it did not have a navigation system and I stopped at one of the few open bars open at 5pm on Christmas Eve, ordered a beer and tried making sense of the maps I found in the glovebox, making a list of the different exits and turns I would have to make.

"Sy was there drinking with some friends – loud friends, might I add. Well, I am struggling with the maps and he must notice because he approaches me at the counter, takes of his cap and asks me if I need help, in his southern drawl. Actually, no wait, his exact words were” Ada paused, clearing her voice. “’Need some help reading that map, darling?'" Tom laughed at her ridiculous attempt to imitate Sy’s baritone voice. To Ada's surprise, Sy blushed. It was barely visible beneath his beard, but it was there and it was the cutest thing she had ever seen.

"I looked down at the map she was studying and asked her if she was headed somewhere on the east coast. She then slowly looked at me and confidently told me she was going to Nevada, until I pointed out that she was highlighting the road that went East and her face burned up, all self-conscious." Sy recounted, now laughing as well and even Tom scoffed. " I said: ‘At this point, even a navigation system can’t help you, darlin’. You’d need an escort.”

Ada bit her lip, remembering that moment clearly in her mind. She had flushed, staring at the muscular man that towered next to her. He was burly and rugged and yet still exhaled a little softness behind it all. 'Well then, will you be my escort to Vegas? I am leaving tonight,' she had blurted out before she could stop herself.

"I cannot believe you drove from Austin to Las Vegas with a stranger, Ada!" Tom said teasingly, clearly surprised by his friend’s spontaneity and recklessness.

"Yes, I made him miss Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with his family, and the best part is that we got married the day we reached Vegas on New Year’s Eve.” They had stopped a few times along the way, visited some towns and she had only known Sy for seven days when we got hitched at the kitschiest chapel imaginable. “We had to hurry to get a marriage license before the courthouse closed and a half-naked dude officiated because everyone else was already booked.”

Sy chuckled, sitting back against his chair and wrapping his arm around Ada's shoulders possessively. "She made me wear my old uniform that lasted all of fifteen minutes and was presided by an officer dressed as a cherub." He gestured at the framed picture standing on the cupboard next to them.

They looked absolutely ridiculous. Sy's uniform made him look too serious next to a tipsy Ada who wore the only white dress she had been able to find on such short notice and that definitely hadn’t been meant for a wedding because it turned out to be partly see-through under the camera flashes.

Ada shared some more stories about Vegas before excusing herself to the bathroom, the conversation instantly dying out as she disappeared, leaving both men in an uncomfortable silence until Sy’s curiosity got to him.

"So, you and her...?" Sy left his question unfinished. He wasn't sure what exactly it was that he was asking, he just wanted to know all there was to know.

In front of him, Tom gracefully dabbed him mouth with the ivory napkin and shook his head, with a tight smile. "No, nothing of the sort," the Englishman replied dismissively before Sy's inquiring stare forced him to expound. "It's not that I didn't think of pursuing something more with her, but Ada made it very clear from the beginning that she was a married woman and a faithful wife."

Sy hummed noncommittally, though internally he was reassured and maybe even elated. Mike had really filled his head with shit. Deep down, he always knew his Ada wasn't like that, it just felt good to hear it.

"My wife, for whom I left England, passed away only two months before Ada and I met. I was going through a rough patch then - and that's a euphemism. Carla had been talking to me about watching a particular film ever since it had been announced, it was an adaptation of her favorite novel." Tom explained, a smile warming up his features. "When she died before it premiered, I wasn't even sure if I even wanted to watch it without her... But the tickets had already been purchased and part of me hoped that for two hours, it would feel like Carla was sitting right next to me."

Sy listened, feeling sympathetic, if not a little uncomfortable by the man’s openness. He still wanted to dislike Tom but at the same time he couldn't imagine the wreck he'd be if Ada were to die on him.

"The cinema was packed and to accommodate a large group, Ada asked whether I minded if she sat down next to me,” Tom paused briefly, smiling at the memory. “I think it was listening to her laugh, cry and eat popcorn next to me during the movie that gave me the strength to drive home instead of off a cliff that night."

Sy gulped down the rest of his wine, still not a fan of the taste as he faced the Englishman before him. Not that he would ever say it out loud, but if he had failed to make it alive out of that godforsaken desert, he had to concede Tom would not have been the worst for Ada.

Silence fell again and Sy became uncomfortable, deciding to pour Tom some more wine. “I am glad Ada and you were there for each other.” When I should’ve been there for her myself but wasn’t, Sy thought but left it unsaid.

Tom chuckled as he observed the burly man in front of him. For all his muscles and gruff exterior, he carried the slightest of insecurities when it came to his wife. "There's a thick silver notebook Ada has kept for a couple of years. Maybe you should have a look at it.”

Sy wanted to ask what he was talking about but was interrupted by the sound of Ada's high heels clicking on the wooden floor as she made her way back to them. "I hope you weren't talking ill of me behind my back," she teased, squeezing Sy's shoulder absentmindedly. "Now, who's ready for my slightly overcooked tarte tatin.” Ada eyed her husband pointedly.

#henry cavill smut #syverson smut #henry cavill x reader #syverson x reader #henry cavill x ofc #syverson x ofc

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purple-dahlias · 3 years ago

Text

recovering- chapter 2

word count: 1742

trigger warnings: eating disorders, disordered eating, mental health

hello! this is the second chapter of recovering. it’s taken a while (oops) but i hope you enjoy <3

(also chapter 1 can be found here)

The days bleed by, agonisingly slow. Sarah goes about her last days in the emergency department almost completely on autopilot, in a daze. If she had to describe it, it was as though there was a wall separating her from everyone else, everything just felt far-off and somehow muffled. Perhaps it was an overreaction, but things just feel different somehow, ever since match day. Even the way the others behaved towards her.

How Natalie had reacted when Sarah had told her. Polite with her congratulations, but somehow different. Maybe even apologetic, as though she herself had been hoping to be told something different. And maybe Sarah was overanalysing, picking things apart too closely, reading into them when there was nothing to be found. But still. It only contributed towards making her doubts more pronounced, every part of her screaming out: you’ve made a mistake. And how was she supposed to tell anyone that? Especially when she had seemed so dead set on pathology. How was she supposed to turn it around? There was only herself to blame.

None of Sarah’s thoughts do any good for her, and she wishes, oh how she wishes she could turn back time. That feeling, that unhappiness, seeps into every part of her, taking a vice-like hold over her, rooting deep within. This is supposed to be her future, the rest of her life. And already, she’s completely messed things up. So she does what she always does. Retreats into herself.

But it’s on her last day, incidentally the night of her graduation, that things take a turn. Even then, she just can’t let it go. Can’t shake the feeling that she had walked into something so very completely wrong. And where does that land her? The nurses’ station in the PICU, waiting for little Michael’s test results to come back from the labs. Dr Manning had already told her to go, she had a graduation to attend after all, but Sarah couldn’t. She can’t leave now. Not until she knows Michael, lying a few feet away from her in a cot fighting for his life, is going to pull through.

It means she misses her graduation, but what does it matter? Her mother’s not coming. There’s no one else to see her. It’s of no real importance to her, she tells herself. It’s only a ceremony, a formality. She’ll still be a doctor without going. And in any case, it was worth it, because now, now she knew, Michael was going to be okay. The hug she gets, the smile from Doctor Manning, the way she gets be the bearer of good news: there was a happy ending to this story. It was worth it. All of it.

Apart, she remembers, from the fact that this wouldn’t be her life anymore. Today marked the day it was all over.

What should be a momentous occasion almost feels like a cruel joke, opening the box to find her lab coat emblazoned with pathology across the chest. She’d made it, she was Dr Reese now. But it was all just more than a little bittersweet. Even with Ethan, for all his kindness and congratulatory remarks, she can’t find it in her to be completely happy, as she knows she should.

The guilt wells up inside of her, until she can’t quite bare it any longer. Until there’s nothing else for her to do.

It’s a rash decision, one she’s sure will send the others in the ED reeling when they find out. But it’s her only option now, she doesn’t quite know what else to do. And Dr Shore telling her she won’t have a job anymore, well… it’s not like she hadn’t already thought of that.

For the first time in a very long while, Sarah Reese has no plans, no direction. Nothing. And yes, whilst it was a completely self-made problem, it was still more than a little daunting. To have your whole future, which had only moments ago been filled, now completely empty, stark and uninviting. A perfect blank canvas stretching out for miles ahead. No prospects.

One conversation and she’s gone. One conversation and it’s all over. No residency, no reason to stay: as far as she’s aware, there are no other residency posts open at Gaffney. But nowhere to go, either. It’s completely ludicrous, what she’s gone and done. Even if Dr Charles tells her she’s going to be “just fine,” it doesn’t feel that way. Not one bit. In many ways, it’s more like the world has ended for her. And for her, maybe it has.

–

There were not many things that remained constant in Sarah Reese’s life. But one that was, was the only thing that she had left now. And it’s all too easy to collapse into herself, let it fill up the gaping, empty spaces inside of her.

Her apartment seems darker, colder, lonelier these days. Which she knows seems irrational, because physically, nothing had changed inside of it. But it still all just all felt wrong. Like she had stepped into the twilight zone, was living someone else’s life.

She was alone now, completely alone. She knew it was only a matter of time before Joey stopped calling, stopped texting, stopped trying to go and get her to meet him. That was the way. Sarah always pushed everyone away, that was just how it went. Yes, she had been alone before. In grade school, at college, in med school. But this was different. Then, she had been alone but alongside other people, even if it was on the outskirts of their lives, it wasn’t total isolation. This, however: she was an island. A shell of her former self. A shadow, an outline of a person. And it’s an awful thought, but it crosses her mind, more than she’d care to admit. If she died, if anything were to happen to her, would anyone notice; who would care?

“You have nothing,” she says aloud to no one in particular, glancing at her reflection in the mirror, the morning of the fourth day after she had quit pathology. It was all true. What was she to do now? There had always been a goal to work towards. Finish high school. Get into med school. Graduate. Secure a residency post. And now? What was there for her?

Time slips by. Hours, days, and somehow, strangely, weeks, without Sarah quite noticing. What she does with that time, if asked, she would never be able to say. And not for lack of trying—it all just passes in a haze. Her lab coat remains crumpled at the bottom of her bag, stethoscope discarded in a drawer in the living room to gather dust. She won’t be needing either of them. Laundry begins to pile up, but Sarah doesn’t care. All she needs is the blue cotton sweatshirt she’s been wearing for days on end, the fabric softer against her skin, hanging far looser from her frame than it had ever done before. Groceries go neglected, not that she needs much. She finds she can hardly stomach anything much these days, apart from wafer crackers with peanut butter, the occasional bowl of cereal (without milk, of course).

The isolation doesn’t help; it makes everything a thousand times worse, she doesn’t know where to begin. Now there’s completely no one to hide from, no one to pretend for. Things are bad, and Sarah sinks into it. It’s like second skin. There again, there when she was absolutely alone.

When she finally manages to drag herself out from her apartment, summer is well and truly in full swing. She’s taken up long walks, through the parks and the streets of Chicago. Sometimes aimless, sometimes with purpose. Slowly she gets round to groceries, though never quite buying enough. But it’s not as though she uses it all up, anyway. Better to undercut, she thinks. Things seem to last longer these days, anyhow.

By the fourth week, Sarah knows this can’t go on. Her doing nothing. As much as she feels she has no energy, still no direction. Something has to change. In any case, with no job now, she needs to find a way to pay her rent at least.

She must be the most overly qualified barista in all of Chicago, with an MD attached to her name. Not that anyone knows that. Not that any of them would care in the slightest. She’s not so sure she deserves that title anyway, what with the way things turned out. But it feels at least a little better, having something to do, a little more routine, a little more structure to her days. It’s not ideal. No newly graduated doctor wants to be manning a till and serving coffee, but this was her life now. Small, quiet, trimmed down to almost zero people. The only person she still saw from her life Before was Joey. She’s pretty sure he’ll stop coming soon. And she’s right.

The upside, if there is an upside to any of this, is that Sarah Reese has always been good at working with what she had. She was used to getting things done alone, used to her own company, her own thoughts, however awful they might get. Just like in college. And medical school. She had been alone. Been there for herself. Pulled herself along. Her own champion and cheerleader in one. And maybe it hadn’t quite worked out perfectly; she hadn’t quite escaped without the scars, but still. She was here. And that had to count for something, didn’t it?

Sometimes, she thinks that when Will had asked her, she should have said something. What exactly, she doesn’t quite know. But maybe something. Because now, no one notices it happening this time. How groceries stretch further and further. How the gaps between her meals increase and the portion sizes decrease. How the dark circles under her eyes only grow. How she’s now a little more shaky, a little more unsteady. The dogs at the shelter she volunteers at on Saturdays don’t notice. The others on her shift at the coffee shop don’t notice. No one does. And it’s fine, it’s really all fine. Because there’s nothing wrong and Sarah’s never had a problem. Never.

And this is her life now, anyway. Just her, her apartment, the coffee shop a few blocks over and the dog shelter on Saturdays. That was her lot.

#recovering!au #recovering!fic #sarah reese #chicago med #my writing #eating disorder tw #chapter 2

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lihikainanea · 4 years ago

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for the first few weeks after the amnesia incident, i think tiger would be taking things a lot easier, but also be a little ball of anxiety. i also think she’d feel guilty, which she shouldn’t, because bill cared for her and basically nursed her back to health. i think it could have a similar outcome to the forest incident, where she gives him like 1000 blow jobs, which he just thought he missed her, but he picks up on it.

Ohhh I love this a whole lot babes. I’ll bet it’s kind of the first time he punishes her after the accident, isn’t it? let’s explore.

Real talk, the Dangerous Forest Excursion Part One and Part Two are vey dear to my heart, and probably still my favourite storylines in their world to this day. I love everything about those stories and how much they mean to Bill and tiger’s relationship, and I think it speaks volumes that those were the easiest ones for me to write--I literally came up with the concept and wrote out the entire first piece all during a long trek home from Thailand. Those two pieces mean a lot to me.

In any case, tiger’s mind is fully healed but her body still probably has a little ways to go--still some bad contusions, bones still broken. And maybe now that her mind is back she’s realizing the exact hell that Bill was put through too--and how much he actually took care of her. She expected nothing less from him, because this is just what Bill does, but at the same time...this was huge. What he went through, on account of her, was huge. And caring for her certainly wasn’t easy, ESPECIALLY when she couldn’t remember anything, and it’s all just hitting her very fast and very frequently how lucky she is to have him, how much he takes care of her, how truly incredible he is. She gets really emotional about it because Bill is just...god, he’s incredible. He’s just incredible. But along with emotional, I’ll bet she also starts to feel a really heavy weight of GUILT because god...he shouldn’t have to do this. He shouldn’t care this much. He shouldn’t take such excellent care of her. Tiger is going through the throes of it emotionally man, and she just feels like she owes him so much.

And Bill, to his complete oblivion, is just continuing to take excellent care of his Little Human and he’s just delighted that now she has her memory back. Bill is totally oblivious to the mental agony she’s in, over how good he is to her.

And I think you’re so right, I think it manifests in exactly that way. Tiger still isn’t physically up to par for a lot of things and she gets tired easily, so she’s not pitching in for housecleaning and she’s not cooking and she still can’t make it through a whole day without multiple naps. And the more Bill just quietly goes about his day, tidying up, cooking delicious meals, grocery shopping, tucking her in for naps, checking on her, giving her pain meds when needed--the more tiger is just kind of digging herself into this hole of guilt. And it manifests through sex, definitely--because it’s the one thing she can kind of do, to make him feel good. They still definitely have to be careful, Bill has to be gentle and can’t lean his weight on her sore ribs, they have to get a little imaginative with positions so she’s not in pain, but at least tiger feels like it’s the one thing she can do for him that makes him feel good.

So then she starts doing it a lot. Like, a lot.

And I’ll bet the first time she sank to her knees for him he just pulled her right back up gently.

“Are you insane kid?” he chastised gently, “No way.”

“But I want to,” she mumbled pitifully as he laid her out beneath him instead.

“You’re still too injured sweet girl,” he kisses down her neck and she sighs in pleasure, “No way you’re kneeling for me on a hard floor until you’re all healed up.”

But maybe...listen, tiger is crafty alright? She’s sneaky. And maybe after a few days she gets real fussy, real petulant on him and Bill has no choice but to let her have what she wants. But it’s on his terms, so he makes sure she’s in bed surrounded by soft pillow and blankets. He makes sure that there’s not too much pressure on her ribs as she lays on her stomach in front of him, makes sure her injured wrist is boosted on another pillow and out of danger. He makes sure she takes her time and doesn’t get frantic about it, warns her that if she starts to get too panicked about it he’ll make her stop. But tiger wants this, wants to be able to do this for him over and over again, so she’s real good and docile about it.

And maybe the next morning, to Bill’s surprise...she’s kind of pawing at him for it again. He doesn’t think much of it, truth be told tiger really did always enjoy doing this for him, and it’s been awhile. She’s not being frantic, so Bill just lies back and enjoys the mouth of his favourite hellion on him.

But then the next night, it’s the same thing.

And the next night.

Eventually maybe tiger kind of just stops wanting actual sex, stop wanting his touch, and only wants to do this for him and that’s probably his clue that this goes a little beyond just desire.

So I’ll bet the next time she starts to lie out between his legs he stops her, keeps her there like that, since he doesn’t want to make her kneel on the floor and this is a submissive enough position for her to know that he’s in charge.

“Tiger,” he says firmly, “Why are you doing this?”

Tiger’s a little taken aback, and she gets a bit defensive.

“Because I want to,” she says irritated, “I love giving you head.”

She reaches for his boxers but he lightly smacks her hand away.

“Tiger,” he says again, “Out with it.”

“There’s nothing to out,” she insists.

“I’ve got all night kid,” he threatens, “And you’re not getting anything until you start talking.”

The silence hangs heavy, and for a long while. But Bill is not backing down, because there’s more to this and he has a feeling he won’t like it.

It takes a long while, the both of them locked in a staring match, but then tiger looks away and presses a gentle kiss to his thigh.

“I owe you,” she whispers quietly. Bill furrows his brows.

“Why?”

“It was too much,” she mumbles, “Bill, everything you did for me--it was too much.”

“I love you tiger,” he murmurs, “And I took care of you when you needed it. You’d do the same for me.”

“It was too much,” she mumbles again, “I need to give it back.”

But like, now Bill is kind of angry. It’s one thing if she’s doing this for him because she needs it, because she genuinely wants to, but it’s a whole other game if she’s doing it as some weird way of repenting, of paying it back, and that’s the kind of shit that pisses him off.

“Tiger, all of this, are you doing this because you feel obligated to? Because you feel like it’s some way of paying your non-existent debts to me?”

She’s quiet. But her silence is all he needs as confirmation, and now he’s pretty angry. This is against the rules.

“Tiger look at me,” he snaps, and she begrudgingly does, “This is not part of it. This is never part of what we do. I don’t ever want you doing anything for me because you feel like you have to, because you convince yourself that for some reason, you owe me something. That makes me feel like shit kid, do you understand?”

She nods feebly, but it’s not enough.

“I don’t think you do,” he continues, cupping her face gently, “Tiger, you don’t owe me anything. I love you, and I took care of you when you needed it. That’s what we do. And you thinking that you need to pay it back, you feeling guilty and like you owe me something, makes me feel like a total dick.”

She bites her lip, averting her gaze downcast.

“You know this is against the rules tiger,” he warns, “You know this gets you punished.”

He’s kind of testing he waters, seeing how she’ll react. Because he’s absolutely NOT going to punish her if she can’t handle it mentally, and he’s obviously going to go easy enough so that he doesn’t actually hurt her more physically. And she’s responding okay, getting a little more submissive about it, and when he mentioned punishment she actually started to shuffle around, raise up on her knees with her hands in her lap, awaiting further instructions.

And Bill is trying to reign in his own anger, because the one thing he HATES is when tiger feels like she owes him something. But he also knows that a punishment is one of the only ways to knock that insane thought out of her head, and he needs to go through with it. He needs to keep it within the limits of what she’s willing to handle, but punishment is the only way she’ll recognize that this line of thinking is wrong.

“Tiger I love taking care of you,” he emphasizes, “So do you understand why you putting strings attached to that would upset me?”

And he’s laying it on a little thick, making sure she knows that he’s upset, because tiger can’t find her way around her own mind right now, and the only thing louder than this guilt is the knowledge that he’s upset over something she did, and that what she did needs to stop so that she can be good for him again.

“Yes,” she mumbles sadly, “I’m sorry, Bill.”

He silent, and she paw at him a little more as some tears spring to her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly, “Please make it better? I-I can be good, I promise I can be good for you.”

“Come here sweet girl,” he says, “You get three for this. They’ll be more gentle, because you’re still too injured to go harder. But you’ll be forgiven, okay? Do you understand, kid?”

She nods, and he helps her into his lap. He doesn’t want her turned aorund--it’s much more intimate this way, with her boosted up on his lap, and he can make sure she’s not balancing any weight on her wrist or putting any pressure on her ribs. He can also cup her face gently this way, pull her to rest her forehead on his, as he pulls his hand back and lands it on her ass. It’s gentle considering what she can usually handle, but it still stings and after the first one she’s crying already. it’s just a vulnerability thing, her emotions are still all over the place, and she hates that she upset him but she also knows she needs this. He keeps her close, spanking her three times just like he said, and then he lets her crumple there against his chest--her face tucked into his neck, her hands clutching at him.

I’ll bet that he even reaches a hand down, strokes through her folds lightly, starts working her up to a release. It’s how she’ll know she’s really forgiven, how she’ll know that she’s good for him again, is if he works her up to the point of bliss and then lets her come for him.

Unf, thank you nani for this delicious thought.

#bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard drabble #BFF!Bill #sub tiger

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readyplayerhobi · 5 years ago

Text

Flower | 17

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Angst, very slight fluff

; Word Count: 6k

; Warnings: Emotional breakdown, depiction of a panic/anxiety attack, in depth discussion/description of depression, brief mentions of suicide, lack of self-worth, self-hatred, self-doubt, dissociation

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: I haven’t proof read because...well I don’t really want to re-read it. So forgive me for any mistakes! It’s early by a day because I’ve missed a few weeks so I want you all to have something on what is a rainy night here in England <3

PLEASE make sure to read the warnings on this one. This chapter is very hard hitting for anyone who has suffered depression/anxiety. I put myself back in the position I was in last year when I had my own breakdown and I know people have said before that I write in a way that makes you feel what the character is feeling. Therefore, please don’t read if you’re going to be affected by the warnings! And please also be kind if you don’t agree with the way I depicted this. This is how my own depression and anxiety affected me, only I didn’t have a Hoseok in my life. The experiences the reader goes through in this are the ones I personally have experienced. It’s still a reader insert, don’t worry. She after all has a lot of things I don’t, and I’m also okay, so don’t worry on that front either! If you feel upset about anything after reading this, please consider reaching out to friends, family, professionals or a helpline that specialises in it!

And remember throughout everything...you’re not alone! You’re not worthless and you are loved. <3

Leaning against the railing outside your work building, you let out a deep and heavy sigh as you read through the email you’d just received. It’s a rejection email. The third rejection email you’d received today and the twenty-third you’d received in two weeks.

After an in-depth talk with your parents and support from Chungha, Soyeon and Hoseok, you’d decided to finally try and get that career change you’d always wanted. Though you’d pointed out that you didn’t know what you wanted from life anymore.

You didn’t know what you wanted full stop.

One of the things that you’d been most afraid of when you’d realised that your relationship with Hoseok was turning into something genuine and real, had been what was going to come after. Not in terms of breaking up, though that did terrify you as well, but how your mental state was going to cope.

You’d tried to explain it to the girls a few times in an effort to get them to understand what went on in your rollercoaster of a mind, and you’d clumsily told Hoseok a few months ago. Or you’d tried at least.

Talking about your emotions wasn’t easy for you and the fear of being too honest about something so crippling with someone who meant so much to you already had scared you away from telling him too much. Your mind had balked at it, afraid that if he found out just how bad you got sometimes that he might just leave before he got in too deep.

So you’d given him a very bare bones explanation of what happened to you sometimes. He probably didn’t think too much of it at the moment as you’d been pretty cheerful throughout the start of your relationship; the bliss of him overriding any of your deep seated depression and anxieties.

Hoseok was obviously aware that you suffered from anxiety and had been very caring in regards to that, but it was entirely different to be with someone in the grip of a depressive episode. Your form of depression could almost be charted, it was that easy to see what was coming, and you’d been so afraid for the last few weeks.

The lethargy and disinterest that associated itself so strongly with your depression had been creeping back into your life slowly. It had frightened you, but you just didn’t know how to combat it. Doing things that were big or made you extremely happy always seemed to come with a huge cost, and the cost was unfortunately your mental health.

Every single time you felt exhilarating highs in your emotions, the feelings so joyful and euphoric from your excitement and pure happiness, you suffered a plunging crash afterwards that often felt like it sucked the joy out of your life. It was something you’d tried to cope with for years now, and sometimes you could go months upon months without feeling like it was affecting you.

But the happiness of finding Hoseok and all of the early stages of your relationship, from the first kiss to sex and meeting your parents, had finally waned. The last few weeks had the deep sense of unhappiness that plagued your negative moods spreading quickly.

It had started as usual with the slowly losing interest in going out; the energy you’d once had to be social outside of your apartment dying until the idea of anything other than work or grocery shopping was too much effort. Then had come the lack of interest in anything.

You’d always found it hard to see that you were slipping, only recognising it properly when you would realise that you’d been laid on your bed or the couch for hours on end, doing nothing at all. Any attempts to find something to watch on television failed as your brain couldn’t find anything interesting enough to keep it’s attention, games sat unplayed as you couldn’t find the energy to turn them on while even just reading bored you.

In particularly bad spells, such as your final year of college when you’d been so afraid of failing but also afraid of having to go into the real world, you struggled to find the energy to even get out of bed. Hygiene only became a thing because of your severe distaste of being unclean, but other than that your bed often became your home.

You would sleep for hours upon hours, napping the day’s away as you consoled yourself with the knowledge that you didn’t have anything to do and so therefore didn’t need to get up. Even though a small voice in the back of your mind told you that no, you should get up. You should do something.

That small voice was drowned out often though. Vanishing on a fast current of melancholy. It frightened you that you were experiencing that now again, even with the wonderful light and joy that was Hoseok in your life. Waking up long after he’d already gotten up on the weekend and realising that you didn’t want to get up and follow him, that not even the comfort of his arms was enough to soothe the jagged hole inside your soul that seemed to grow deeper and wider with every day that passed.

Applying for the jobs had been an appeasement to those in your life who were worried about you. You knew that Hoseok could tell something was wrong, but he just didn’t seem to know what to do or how to help. Understandable really, as you didn’t tell him what was wrong.

But staring down at your phone screen, the black letters bold against the white background that once more proclaimed you weren’t good enough, you felt something deep inside you break. Something that you hadn’t realised was holding on by the thinnest thread, chafing away with each negative thought that had passed through your mind over the years.

What’s the point?

The insipid question whispers through your mind.

Why am I trying?

A second slithers into place, taking comfort with its neighbour.

Why am I doing this?

A third nestles safely between the two brooding thoughts.

I’ll never be good enough for anything.

Leaning your head forehead, you let it rest on your hand on the railing, eyes closing as your other hand tightens on your phone. The hopelessness that your mind has spun to life explodes to life, multiplying into countless thoughts of desolation and gloom that somehow combine together to make your head feel heavy and your limbs tired.

Slumping down onto the ground, you turn and let your back press against the railings. It was your lunch currently and you were at the back of the parking lot that faced your building, the facade blank with no clue as to what was going on inside.

Blinking slowly, you realise that your breath is stuttering, almost choking itself. Like your throat is closing around nothing while your heart races a thousand miles a minute. Glancing down, you realise that your hands are shaking violently and you try to swallow, the movement so hard. And then you press a palm to your chest, a small whimper leaving your mouth as you simply try to breath.

But it all feels too much. It’s all just too much.

There’s nothing inside your head but despondency and yet your body feels too much, like it can’t cope. Your mind swings violently between the white fuzz of nothing and the sheer panic of a looming sense of dread, the fear of failure, rejection. The fear that you meant nothing and your life was nothing.

I can’t do this anymore.

It’s a simple thought, only five words long and it dances through your mind like a leaf on the breeze. Effortless and simple.

For a few seconds you think nothing of it, the part of your mind that wasn’t well agreeing with it and conceding that there was no point anymore. You weren’t doing anything useful in life anyway and you doubted anyone would truly notice if you’d gone. A cog in the machine of life, that’s all you were.

And cogs could be replaced after all.

But then that tiny voice that had been washed away earlier appeared again, resolute and defiant against the tidal waves of desolation that swamped it. The tiny kernel of hope and happiness that you’d once had, that had slowly grown and blossomed into a tree with roots so deep it couldn’t be moved. It was a little dejected and a little threadbare from lack of nourishment, but it was there all the same.

The part of you that didn’t want to give up, the part of you that wanted to fight for your life. The part that had spurred you to confidence to message Hoseok, that had encouraged you to keep going in college. The part of you that told you it didn’t want to give up, didn’t want to give in.

Your lungs are heaving now, body hunched over as you grip your legs so tightly, head pressed to your knees while salty tears drip down your face. A heartbeat that feels like it’s working overtime is so loud you can feel it in your chest, the tension in your arms and torso so strong that your muscles hurt from the ache of holding them for so long.

Eyes hot and stinging as the tears overflow, you press hard on your chest and try to regulate your breathing. Try to calm yourself down, to bring yourself back from the precipice of the pain and panic that you feel. The overwhelming rollercoaster of your emotions is giving you whiplash, the melancholy you had been swept with being beaten savagely by the fear of your inability to breath and the panic of how dark your thoughts had gotten.

You needed to talk to someone, you needed to see someone. You needed someone there, someone to tell you that it was okay. That you weren’t worthless. That you had value, that you were loved. That you would be missed. That life wouldn’t be okay without you, that you were needed and necessary. Someone to push away your thoughts for long enough to just let you think clearly.

You don’t even realise you’ve dialled his number, fingers moving on autopilot as if your body is trying to help when your mind has become so paralysed. It’s not until his voice finally manages to pierce through the incessant self-flagellation that your mind is undertaking that you blink in confusion, brow creasing as you wonder why he’s here.

Glancing up, you wipe away at the tears that keep falling and stare at your phone, squinting to focus. The familiar smiling face of your boyfriend stares back, a photo taken weeks back on a date day to the beach. Your heart clenched tightly and your breath shudders, the wheezing sound as your lungs work hard to try and get oxygen loud as you have the odd mixture of desperation to talk to him along with the dread of annoying him.

One of the things you’ve always hated was talking about these personal issues with people. Even though you knew rationally that people would rather you tell them about what was worrying and upsetting you, the gleefully self-destructive part of your mind told you that you were annoying them with your concerns.

But Hoseok was talking through the small speaker, his voice loud against the quiet scenery around you with only your hyperventilated breathing being the odd noise. And then his words finally made sense, the syllables that had broken through your ennui turning into sounds you understood.

It was the confusion in them that caused you to listen properly at first, the way he said your name repeatedly before the ragged sound of your breathing obviously began to register. Then your name became more frantic, the fear in his voice slicing through your own inner wail of despair.

“Y/N? Hello? Y/N are you there? Hellooo? Y/N? Are you okay? Hey, are you...Y/N are you crying? Y/N? Talk to me, come on. Answer me sweetheart, baby answer me. Y/N what’s wrong? Are you crying? Y/N please answer.” His voice is getting progressively louder, the concern and worry louder and you suddenly feel even more self-loathing at the knowledge you’ve panicked him.

“Hobi.” It’s all you can get out though, the word pushing past the tightness of your throat as it contracts so violently, air struggling to get past. Clutching your chest, you recognise an odd wailing sound that escapes with each breath outwards. Hands shaking, you press the phone to your ear and let out a broken sob, trying to talk to him.

“Baby, baby what’s wrong? Has something happened? Are you okay? Have you had an accident? Is it your parents?” He fires questions at you quickly, trying to find some answer as to why his girlfriend has called him in the middle of a workday only to be sobbing and wailing down the phone at him.

Particularly when you both knew how much you despised talking on the phone.

But just the sound of his voice is soothing to the frayed nerves within you, a balm to the deep and aching pain that lurks inside. It’s not enough to pull you out your breakdown, not yet at least. This isn’t a film and television show and you’re aware enough to realise that real life doesn’t happen like that.

God you felt warm, so warm. So unbelievably warm but the sweat on your skin is cold, like you’re ill. Squeezing your eyes shut, you choke as you inhale too fast and your diaphragm jerks in a way that has you almost hiccuping.

Even though he doesn’t actually know what’s happening, Hoseok still manages to do the right thing. Because he stops his own panicked questions, his voice suddenly stabilises and a calm tone taking over.

“Okay baby...baby, listen to me. Okay, you’re okay. You’re gonna be okay. It’s going to be okay sweetheart, I swear. Come on, can you hear me?” A torn sound of acknowledgement leaves you, your muscles aching with tiredness from how hard you’ve held yourself.

“That’s good, that’s really good baby. I want you to listen to me, okay? Listen to what I say and then do it for me. I want you to try and breathe in, take a big breath. Really big, come on, do it with me,” You hear him inhale loudly and you try to follow, the shakiness overtaking. “And now it let out. Nice and slow, come on. Do it again.”

He continues on encouraging you through it, his deep voice that you’ve fallen so deeply for so soothing and reassuring. It almost makes you want to cry just hearing it, but you listen to what he says. Closing your own eyes and simply focusing on inhaling and exhaling, pushing all the negativity away until all that’s left is breathing.

Finally, after what feels like an hour, you realise that your breaths are jerky but almost stable. Deep breathes in and out help your body to relax itself, muscles releasing while the demons of depression and anxiety take a step back in your mind. They’re still there, you can feel them hovering over the edges, but you feel like you can cope again.

Wiping at your face once more, you sniff and almost burst into tears again when you realise how utterly pathetic you feel. How stupid you are to fall apart like that over a job rejection of all things. And those demons inch forward, whispering into the fragile parts of you.

“Y/N, are you with me? Are you okay?” Leaning your head back against the railing, you nod quietly before remembering he’s not actually there. The first time you try to speak, your voice is croaky and what sounds like a bubble pops in your throat.

The second time works though. “I’m here. I’m...Hobi...I just...I can’t.”

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the words cause you to start crying once more. But this time, there’s none of the panic and fear behind them. These tears are blazingly hot, your skin prickling from the salt of them while your head pounds from the previous crying and emotional ride you’d just gone through.

This time, your tears were because you simply wanted him there. You wanted to just bury yourself in his arms and try to forget what had happened.

“Okay, okay. I don’t know what’s wrong, but do you think you can go back to work? Or do you need to come home?” The very idea of going back into the office, sitting at your desk and doing all the mindless jobs that you loathe and despise with every fibre of your being fills you with a surge of feelings that makes you gasp in pain, head shaking rapidly.

You can’t, not today. You can’t go back to that, you can’t go back to the thoughts that this is going to be your life. That this is all you’ll ever be. All you’ll ever be worth. That you’ll never be good enough for anything.

“No.” It’s whimpered out, so soft and quiet but carrying a level of pain that you can’t even begin to properly explain to him. He understands though, a quiet sigh of his own as he obviously considers what to do.

“Okay...go in and ask them if you can take the rest of the day off. Tell them you’re ill. That you’ve been throwing up or something, whatever it takes. Are you okay to drive? Or do you want me to come get you?” Glancing over at your car, the Hyundai your dad had helped you to buy that was a dream compared to your previous car, you chew on your lip as you wipe at your face.

“I can drive. I can drive, it’s not far.”

“Good. Go home and rest. I’ll be home when I can. Do you want to talk about whatever just happened when I do?” Looking down at the ground, you consider it before sniffling quietly.

“Yeah. I think I should.” Your voice cracks on the last word, yet more tears filling your eyes as your lip trembles dangerously. The thought of telling him is terrifying, but you feel like you’ve gone too far down this dark road now. And you don’t want to walk down it alone anymore, not when what you’re finding is so terrifying and scary.

“Okay. I’ll see you at home then.”

It was surprisingly easy to get your boss to let you go home early, easier than you thought it would have been. But maybe you looked a little worse than someone who had been throwing up, given the puffiness of your eyes and the overall haggard appearance you’d managed to take on. You didn’t look well, which worked in your favour in terms of being able to go home.

But you didn’t look well because you weren’t well. And you knew this.

As soon as you got home, you’d practically torn off your clothes before slipping on a well worn pair of soft grey leggings and a fuzzy sweatshirt, the material so soft on your body. It’s approaching the end of November and you revel in the warmth it offers you, curling on the couch into a tight ball with your head buried into the velvety Pusheen pillow that Hoseok had bought you a few weeks ago.

The soft padding of tiny paws on the wood floor alerts you to an incoming presence and you smile tiredly when Kasumi jumps up onto the couch with you, chirping at you quietly before butting her head against yours. Gently, you stroke at her fur and sigh as she settles, her head buried firmly into your neck and her small body vibrating as she purrs away happily.

“Are you happy my little purrbaby? Yeah?” You whisper to her, running your thumb over her silken ears before pressing your nose against her sleek fur. “My favourite little girl, aren’t you? A purry baby.”

The next few minutes consist of you just muttering nonsense to her as usual, your hand stroking automatically as you revel in the solid warmth of her against you. She remains where she is, paws flexing open and closed as the she pads at your chest and you can’t help the tiny smile that escapes as she does so.

“I love you, yes I do.” Maybe it’s a sign of how bad of a person you are that the only person you feel even remotely comfortable saying that to is your own cat. A cat who can’t answer back. Though maybe that’s the point. She relies on you for survival, therefore her love is a given.

Other’s though?

Her ears twitch suddenly and her eyes widen, that familiar look of alarm taking over her feline features and causing her to jerk upright. Frowning, you coo to her before realising you can hear the door opening.

A quick glance at the clock tells you that it’s not even 2pm and your brow creases in confusion. You go to question whoever it is, only he appears from the hallway into the room and your throat tightens immediately.

Hoseok isn’t wearing a fancy suit this time, instead just a pair of black jeans with a black button-up, his socks a contrast in white. His work had since changed their dress code policy to smart-casual, hence his jeans. But he wasn’t supposed to finish until 5pm.

“Why are you here?” Your words aren’t nearly as solid as you intended them to be, the sounds shaky and he lets out a tiny sigh.

“You really think I was gonna stay at work for the next few hours after my girlfriend, who hates using the phone, calls me and all I can hear is hyperventilating and crying? And then she’s so not okay that she actually goes home? No way. I’m gonna work the time back later but I felt that you shouldn’t be alone right now.” He makes it all sound so simple, like there wasn’t even a question in his mind about what he’d do.

It chips away at something inside you, a chink in the solid wall of protection you’d built over the years that held back all your deepest and darkest fears and concerns from others. And in an instant, that wall shatters in a tsunami of emotion.

Lips trembling violently while your vision blurs from the tears filling it, you simply open your arms to him and whimper out his name in a tone so broken and lost that it almost makes Hoseok cry just hearing it. Not that you know that, nor can you see the way his face crumples for a moment at seeing you break so quickly.

You don’t see because the tears block your vision of him, but you feel it when he sits on the couch next to you and wraps you in his arms. Without a word, you squeeze your arms around him so tightly, as if you were afraid that if you let go then he’d vanish.

And you let yourself break in the comfort of his embrace, in the safety of presence and the reassurance of his stability. A horrible sound of pure agony escapes your throat, dragged from the deepest depths and a part of you is surprised at it. At how much pain it encapsulates.

Once you start though, you can’t stop and you simply cry into Hoseok’s arms, letting yourself go in a way that you never have before. Exposing your vulnerabilities and all the jagged points of pain inside your psyche that you’d kept hidden for so long, afraid that no one would care or would see them as a sign of weakness if you let them out.

Hoseok doesn’t judge you though, he doesn’t complain or sigh in annoyance. Instead, he spends the next ten minutes simply hugging you so tightly to him, his hands stroking your back in long movements that soothe you and reassure you that he’s here, that he cares. Vaguely, you recognise him whispering things to you but you don’t put enough thought into what he’s saying.

The earlier breakdown you’d suffered had been frightening and painful; the fear of not understanding what was happening properly combining with the gaping hole of self-hatred and feelings of inadequacy. This didn’t feel like a breakdown though. It felt cathartic almost, like each sob that escaped you, each tear that wet Hoseok’s shirt was another weight being lifted off your mind and shoulders.

By the time you finally calm down enough until the tears are silent and the only noise you make is the hiccuped breathing of someone who’s cried so hard their throat and eyes hurt, you feel almost relaxed. Maybe crying was a good thing sometimes, but you knew that it was because you’d come to terms with the fact that you had to talk about your issues and most importantly, you had to reach out to others for help.

Now the room is completely quiet, only broken by the occasional sniffle from you. You’d expected him to start asking questions immediately but he doesn’t, instead just holding you in a protective embrace while you calm down.

Oddly, it makes you feel a little better that he doesn’t freak out or pepper you with questions. His reassuring presence helps to calm your frayed nerves and you find yourself playing with one of the buttons on his shirt, bottom lip pouting out as you realise his shirt is plastered to his chest from your tears.

“I’m sorry about your shirt.” You whisper, voice hoarse and low. There’s no response for a second before he lets out a breathy laugh, warm lips pressing to your hairline affectionately.

“That’s fine. It’s just a shirt,” Hoseok pauses, shifting to hug you in a more comfortable position on the couch. “Do you want to talk about it?”

The way he leaves the question open for you lets you know that he’s giving you an out, a way to turn him down. You know he wouldn’t be particularly happy if you didn’t talk about what had caused you to have such a breakdown, but he would acknowledge your decision.

“I just...I got another rejection.” Fingers smooth at the wrinkles in his shirt, the text from the email running through your mind once more and you can practically feel your spirit sinking again. “I don’t know, it just...it got too much. I know it sounds really stupid and I can’t really explain it all or anything but...it was just too much. Everything has been too much lately and yet I just feel so empty and uncaring.”

Hoseok doesn’t interrupt you, letting you spill out your inner thoughts to him, even if they don’t make a lot of sense.

“I’ve been...I mean...lately I...I’m not...I’m not okay.” Your voice wavers dangerously, lip trembling and you tighten your hand on the fabric of his shirt. “I just feel...I can’t...I can’t, I just can’t. I don’t feel like I can do this anymore, it’s just so hard. So hard to get up and go to work when I hate my fucking job. It’s like my mind is dying every second in there and my soul is shrivelling up too. But I’m not good enough to get out and I’ll never get out and all I can think is...is this it? Is this going to be my life? Is this all I’ll ever do? Is this all I’ll ever be worth? Is this all I’ll do? And the thought of this being all I do for the rest of my life is...I mean...I just...I can’t Hoseok. I can’t, I can’t do it. I don’t even want to wake up if I have to do this forever.”

The words are rushed from you, blurring together as you feel the deep hysteria and panic rising within you once more. Hands clenching his shirt are shaking while your breath is coming a little faster again and your poor, swollen eyes are stinging from the heat of yet more tears. You’d have thought you had none left to cry.

“It’s like everything is weighing me down, all of it. My job, my lack of career, my finances and just me as a person. It’s all building in my head and I just...I can’t. But at the same time I feel nothing inside. I wake up and wonder why I’m bothering to get up because I have nothing to do, I can’t focus on shows or games or books. I’m lethargic and unhappy and the idea of going out just makes me want to cry. I drove home from the store the other day and the entire time I felt like there was a hive of bees in my stomach, all angry and my heart was racing. I didn’t even know what I was anxious about! That’s not normal and it happens all the time. I’ve tried, for you and my parents and friends but it always comes back. I can’t do it anymore, I can’t.” You’re not entirely sure what you can’t do, but you say it so forcefully that Hoseok simply nods.

He doesn’t speak at first, contemplating what to say and trying to remember what his therapist had discussed with him all those years ago when he’d gone. It was hard, because obviously your case wasn’t like his. But he wanted to help, or at least try and guide you in the right direction. Because you were reaching out, and he wanted to be the one to hold you steady while you fought your way out of the darkness.

“How long have you been feeling like this? I’ve noticed you pulling away recently, I didn’t want to push you on it though.” Hoseok admits, his voice soothing as he runs a thumb along your cheek, wiping your tears away.

Almost childishly, you shrug. “I don’t know. It comes and goes. I always...I hate doing things that make me happy or excited because I always crash after. And the longer my happiness goes on, the harder and further I crash after. It’s like my mind can’t cope with just...being...normal.”

Hoseok shakes his head firmly then, pulling back slightly to get you to look at him. His eyes are worried and his expression is concerned, but you can tell he’s determined. You can also tell that you’ve just said something that he disagrees with.

“Don’t call yourself not normal. At the risk of sounding like some lame quote from the early 2010s, there’s no such thing as normal. You’re just...you’re not okay right now. I think we can both tell that. And there’s nothing wrong with not being okay. There’s nothing wrong with admitting you’re having mental health problems and I hope you won’t be angry with me for saying it but...this...today...baby I think you need to see a doctor or something. I can’t tell you what will help because I don’t know, and I don’t want to mess it up. But you have to want to get help.”

Looking down at your hands, you sniff quietly as you contemplate what he’s said. As per usual, he’s said it sweetly and in a way that isn’t offensive. The very idea of admitting that you had mental health issues made you quail inside, wanting to tell him that he was wrong and you were fine.

But he wasn’t wrong...and you weren’t fine.

“What if they don’t believe me? Or tell me it’s just in my head? Or that I’m just sad or something? And what if work finds out and they get angry at me? People will tell me I’m just faking it or something, looking for attention.” The stereotypes slip from your lips without you realising it but you’re worried.

Despite the push for being more open around mental health lately, you know that people still don’t view it positively. That admitting depression or anxiety can often come with an eye roll or an exasperated sigh. You knew how it went, you weren’t depressed you were just tired or weren’t willing to put in effort and so forth.

But you knew it wasn’t that. It couldn’t be, not when it felt so real and strong.

“Sweetheart, if they think at your work then fuck them. You already hate that place and you’re looking for something new. Don’t let them get to you, you are more important than anyone there. And if they want to act like shit around something as serious as this, then they don’t deserve you. Your doctor should listen, and if they don’t then make them listen. They’re there for you, not the other way around. It’s in your head purely because it’s your mental health and it can be helped. I won’t lie, it’s probably not gonna get cured. But you’ll find ways to cope. And I’ll be here for you. So will your parents and your friends. We care for you and we want you to be okay.” He rubs at your arms then, his touch warm even through the soft material of your sweater.

“I’ve watched you draw into yourself and it’s worried me for a while now. But if you’re willing to reach out to me at your lowest, which I’m going to assume that breakdown was your lowest, then I think you want help. I can’t make it go away, but I can help support you while you get your feet back under you. Will you consider going to the doctor? Please?”

Pushing your head into his neck harder, you sniff hard and pushing the sleeves of your sweater past your hands. Your heart races at the thought of discussing your personal issues with someone you don’t know, but you know Hoseok is right. You need help, you need to reach out.

Swallowing hard, you realise that you need to do what he’s suggesting. You don’t want to get back to that point where you realised you didn’t care if you lived or died anymore. Because you wanted your life to get better. You just didn’t have the tools to pull yourself out of the swamp.

“Okay. I’ll go.” His body relaxes imperceptibly at your agreement and you feel bad, realising how worried he must have been for you. But that worry vanishes when he tilts your head up to his, a sweet smile on his face before he kisses you gently.

“Good. You won’t regret it, I swear. And thank you. For trusting me enough to call me when you were afraid and for telling me now. I want to try and help you anyway I can. I know what it’s like to feel very lost and afraid. I just got angry at the world though. So...please talk to me when you’re not feeling okay, even if you think I’m going to be annoyed or can’t be bothered. Because I’d rather you talk and vent to me than do something else.” And suddenly, you realise he’s got tears in his own eyes.

Reluctant tears you can tell, the way he gives a small smile that’s forced, his dimples showing but no real happiness behind it. Swallowing, your own smile wobbles too as you realise that he must have been so worried.

“I will. I swear. I swear.” His lips press to your forehead, resting there long after he’s finished his kiss and you simply embrace it, absorbing his deep feelings to you that you can tell he has even though he doesn’t say a word. Unsurprising really, because you feel all the positive and warm feelings you have towards him blossoming through the hollowness in your chest.

He’s not going to fix you and you both know that. But you’re surprised to realise that you don’t want him to either. That this is something you have to start yourself. For your own peace of mind but also so that you don’t become reliant on him while pressuring Hoseok with something as precarious as your mental health.

You’ve reached out for help finally, and now you just need to accept the help you’re given in turn.

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champagne-bucky · 5 years ago

Text

The Undoing: Three

Summary: The truth about a past life is unveiled.

Warnings: THIS IS A DARK STORY!! dark! Steve Rogers x reader, kidnapping, non con and dub con (or at least mentions of), dark! Bucky Barnes, Stockholm syndrome, grooming, mentions of pregnancy termination and suicide mentions (for one chapter), possibly more tags to be added!

Notes: Hahaha... remember this story? Lol so I finally can give to you Chapter 3!! I feel so bad that this was so late, but school really kicked my ass so hard and I’ve just been so unmotivated. I’m gonna try my hardest to give you guys this story and some other stuff I’ve been working on! I hope you guys enjoy this one! Please make sure to like, reblog, comment, inbox, and follow me for more!! Enjoy :)

PLEASE READ WARNINGS!!

Hell must be an eternal bliss. If it’s anything compared to how you’ve been living your life the past few years then Satan himself has nothing on Steve Rogers.

Life was never the same after that day in the hospital. From the moment you left that bed to the moment you arrived home with your little Sasha, Steve had already struck the fear of God into your soul. From the second you entered into your prison, Steve had wrestled the newborn out of your hands and into his. What followed after was a swift grab of your hair and a drag down the basement steps.

“You can leave when you learn,” Steve spat at you before locking your ankle back into place.

Those days were the darkest moments of your life. You never got to see Sasha, well you did interact with her you just couldn't physically see her. Steve made sure of that. Every time poor baby Sasha was hungry you were subjected to a blindfold around your eyes. Steve said it was part of your punishment. You tried to take away his family, he would take away yours, at least the sight of them.

That was all you got with precious Sasha. This punishment was real and it ended up fucking with your mental and physical health.

*a few months later*

How long has it been down here? Months, year? It couldn’t have been weeks. Life was going on all around you and you had missed it all.

Steve taunted you, he got off on your absence in Sasha’s life. The doctors had told Steve it was safe to start using bottled milk after a while which meant there was no chance of you to even feel Sasha and her touch. No more, you saw nothing, not even a shred of hope.

*18 months*

You had cracked, it had officially happened. That light you hoped would never fade has burned itself out. In its place a hollow bulb left with no purpose. The only difference between you and the bulb? Your purpose was to be solely Steve’s. You didn’t belong to anyone else, not even baby Sasha.

These last months had broken you down into the compilable puppet Steve wanted you to be. You missed everything in your baby’s first year of life all because of that stupid mistake the night of her birth. Steve tortured you even further by not even mentioning the baby one bit. It’s like there wasn’t even a baby at all. At one point, you feared that Steve might’ve given her away, but he accidentally slipped one night during your punishment by mentioning her. Sasha was your last source of joy and you couldn’t even see her.

“I wanna have another one,” Steve mentions to you while you eat the food he brought you. For the past months you were only given his scraps of food, it’s no wonder why he’s giving you full meals lately, he wants you strong for another baby.

The stubborn girl inside you wanted to scream no, but you knew what would happen if you did. If having another baby would make Steve happy, you would do it. Maybe you could wager your way out of the basement.

“I would like that too, Steve. A little sister or brother for Sasha,” Steve hid his shock. He was fully expecting you to have another outburst, but you seemed so compliant now.

“Why don’t we go upstairs and see little Sasha,” you gasped at Steve’s suggestion. You would finally be able to see your little girl after all this time.

Steve led you up the stairs for what would be the last time for a while now. The bright light of the upstairs hit your face and you needed to adjust to it. He led you over to the living room area and that’s when you saw her.

She was sitting with Bucky and playing with her toys. You had tears in your eyes as you broke away from Steve’s hold and ran to Sasha. Bucky eyed you up and down. You were dirty. Hair long overdue for a cut and your nails were grimey. You were a wreck. What had Steve done to you down there?

You picked up your daughter and held her close. She cried. In fact, she was wailing to the point where her face was turning beat red. Sasha started failing her limbs around and looked for her daddy. It took both Steve and Bucky to pry you away from your daughter. Steve took her into his arms and soothed her.

“I think she needs a nap,” Steve then handed your daughter to Bucky as he brought her upstairs.

“I don’t understand,” you were kneeling on the floor now looking at the staircase Bucky had just gone up.

“Oh, well she doesn’t know who you are. You're more a stranger to her than a mother,” you didn’t even want to turn around to see the grin on Steve’s face. He lifted you into his arms.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” you didn’t even realize you were crying, “she’ll come to know you soon enough. Now let’s get you upstairs and cleaned up. We have plans.”

*5 months later*

It was a brutal few months. Months filled with trial and error in regards to getting pregnant again. Months spent in a bathroom crying over another negative pregnancy test. Months spent living in Steve’s disappointment due to your failure to conceive a child. However, that silver lining came in at the five month mark. Finally, there were tears of celebration from both you and Steve. The latest addition to your family would be on their way soon enough.

During this time, you got to see Sasha, but barely. With every failure that came Steve would redact the amount of time you two would spend together. Some days he wouldn’t let you see each other at all because of your “unwillingness to commit to this family” and that broke your heart.

You were groomed to be the perfect wife and perfect mother to this family and goddammit were you sure not going to fail. Steve had taught you how a wife should serve and act around their husband and you followed his every command like an obedient dog. Now, you finally succeeded with this baby and were back in Steve’s perfect graces.

*a few years later*

The routine was always the same. Get up, get dressed, feed the babies, and make breakfast for your husband before he locked himself away in the office for the day. Take care of the babies and clean around the house. Make lunch for Steve and maybe have some alone time together if the babies are down for a nap. Not if, they better be down for a nap, Steve’s orders.

Grocery shopping is to be done on the weekends and weekends only. Steve will go out because only you can watch the babies. If you needed something you forgot to write on the list, too bad it would have to wait until next weekend.

It was a good system, a steady routine. You didn’t argue with Steve because you knew better than to question his ideas. Plus, you didn’t mind staying home with the babies. You loved taking care of them and spending so much time with them. To be honest, you even hated putting the little ones to bed because that meant you would be apart. The babies were keeping you in one piece.

Of course Steve was doing his part as well. The perfect husband. A man you didn’t know you needed in your life to be your provider. He truly was becoming an ideal man.

The babies were doing great. After Sasha you gave birth to another girl, Gwenyd. Sasha was a helpful big sister to her and you couldn't wait to tell them about the newest little one to join your perfect family.

Life for baby Sasha was as simple it could be for a toddler. She got naps and food and spent the whole day with her mommy. Needless to say she was living the ideal toddler life. However, past her toddler years she was taking up responsibilities that a little girl shouldn’t have.

Ever since she turned 6, Sasha would help her mother out with the younger siblings. It was a sweet sight to see. You had taught Sasha how to feed the little ones, how to change them, how to dress them, like one big game of house. This was the bonding time you had always craved with your little girl.

Steve thought that it was endearing. A mother and daughter helping take care of his children. He really did have the perfect family.

As the years went on, Sasha had gotten older and she had more siblings to help take care of. You were burnt out by then. A new baby almost every year or two. Luckily, you had your daughter helping you out, but she shouldn't have to be subjected as a second parent when there was another perfectly capable one sitting locked in his office.

On top of that, you now have to homeschool these children while making sure the helpless little ones were being properly taken care of. Needles to say, you were on the verge of a breakdown and Steve wasn’t willing to help out with some of it.

Sure, he would have his bonding time with the babies, but when it came to the older ones and homeschooling he couldn't deal with that headache. After all, he did tell you that if you didn’t want them sent to a daycare then you would have to take up all the responsibilities while he was at work.

He knew you wouldn’t send the kids away, you were too attached to losing them like you had lost yourself. They were the only thing stringing your reality together and keeping the cracks from splitting further down the line. You were happy, he convinced himself, happy and compliant.

*a few years later*

Why didn’t you take that deal with Steve when the kids were younger? Why couldn’t you just let them thrive in a better learning environment? You are worried you’ll fail these kids. Worried that you’ll screw them up. You were close to shattering.

Being pregnant again and teaching your daughter how to do fractions, that not even you knew how to explain, was taking a toll on your mental state. You wanted a break. Just one day where you didn’t need to worry about what was for dinner or what’s tomorrow’s new lesson play. You NEEDED a break.

Steve wouldn’t let you go anywhere. The rules had never changed. You never even got to be in your backyard alone. Didn’t anyone realize that no one but Steve ever left the house?

The kids were sometimes allowed out, but only when Steve had the time to take them, which was rarely. Bucky never came around anymore. You didn’t know any details, but assumed they must’ve had a falling out. Steve never told you anything about his work or about family or friends. Frankly, you didn’t care as much either. This was your new life now and the past was in the past.

Steve was going to kill his wife. If it wasn’t him killing his wife then then it would be the first person who would cross his path. How could she be so careless? How could HE be so careless? He thought the locks he bought for the house were secure enough to keep his wife in, guess not. Turns out all it took was his 13 year old daughter swiping away a key he thought he misplaced for the total shit storm to come down on him.

It all started on a quiet afternoon, the wife was cooking in the kitchen and the kids were playing in their rooms. There was a knock on the door, Steve told his wife not to bother as he went to answer it. He remembers the feared look on the one agent's face as they announced they were CPS coming in for an investigation. Needless to say after they left, Steve went berserk. Not only on his wife, but on Sasha too.

“HOW COULD YOU BE SO CARELESS?” Sasha was clinging to her mother with tears streaming down her face.

“Steve please don’t be so hard on-”

“YOU STAY OUT OF IT. I’LL DEAL WITH YOU LATER,” well you knew better than to interrupt at that point.

Steve was pacing back and forth while yelling at how careless and stupid his daughter was. Sasha was scarred from that night on. She was afraid of disappointing her father and mother anymore. So, she became more quiet and reserved than usual. You thought it was awful the way Steve broke her down, Steve thought it would teach her to be better.

CPS wouldn’t let up on their investigation with the Rogers family. Steve noticed that someone was always watching them. Whether it was from across the street or an impromptu visit, they were always around.

He needed to get them off his back somehow. If they were to find out who his wife really was then it was to the prison cell for a long time. Of course the cops had been looking for you. In fact, your father offered to fund all the money in their pockets to keep their investigation going. The case ran cold a few years back, Bucky told him that before he departed for the next few years.

Steve did the most drastic, and most likely stupid, thing he could’ve thought of: he enrolled his eldest in high school.

It might backfire, but if Sasha just stuck to the carefully coordinated routine Steve laid out for her, then all would be fine...right?

Tags to be added in comments!!

#dark avengers #dark captain america #dark steve rogers #dark steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #dark marvel #mcudarklibrary #dark bucky barnes #dark james barnes #dark winter soldier

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rgrettes · 5 years ago

Note

heyy, I hope I'm not bothering but I've seen that you used to post about faberry and faberry fics like Shafd, and since I'm trying to find some faberry fanfics to read, could you please recommend me some of your favorites? Thank you :)

OKAY so this took me a whole lot longer than anticipated because I didn’t want to make it be like 500 fics long! But here, in no particular order, are my top 10 faberry fanfics! [excluding SHAfD of course bc whomever asked this definitely knows SHAfD!]I will be including trigger warnings/content warnings! Please be sure that you can handle the subjects before reading the content! Be safe and put your mental and physical wellbeing before a work of fiction!

10. Dirty Little Secret by patchesofink

Chapters: 77/77 [208k]

This fic would actually happen to be the first faberry fic that I ever read. I felt my little 15 year old self cry several times throughout this fic. It’s what first got me into writing fanfic, because I wanted to write as well as this author! There is a content warning so please be careful reading it if you are sensitive to topics mentioned!

Rachel has a secret and Quinn has figured it out - but will Quinn use this knowledge to exact revenge on Rachel for telling Finn that Puck was really the father or will she use her own experiences to help. WARNING - language and sexual content, r*pe.

9. I’ll Be by stix04

Chapters: 20/20 [330k]

God I was such a sucker for fake dating au’s as a young teenager and I’m most definitely a sucker for them now. This one I didn’t read right when it came out, I didn’t actually find it until it had finished but it still makes my top 20 because it’s just too good not to talk about!

Can Quinn pretend to be in love with Rachel just to get out of Lima? Can Rachel pretend to love Quinn so she's not so lonely in New York? And what happens when both girls realize they're no longer pretending?

8. Long Way to Happy by patchesofink

Chapters: 42/42 [104k]

This is the sequel to Dirty Little Secret and makes the list for being just as good as the original. This author is so talented and the story just resonates in my soul!

warnings for sexual content, language, violence and potential ptsd triggers!

Sequel to Dirty Little Secret. Rachel still has some healing to do as well with dealing with becoming a mom. Quinn has her own issues to deal with. Can their fledgling relationship deal with the ups and downs of life and cope with senior year? Quinn learns to open up and Rachel deals with motherhood and not letting her past define her. It's a Long Way to Happy.

7. Leather Jackets and Bad Coffee by antonius

Chapters: 11/?? [75k] [has not updated since 2018 :(]

Bikers, 50′s style diners, and good girl/bad girl pairing. Literally who could ask for anything more? I’m super sad this one hasn’t updated in a long time but it’s still such a fun read!!

warning for violence!

Ninety miles and nearly two hours from the heart of New York City, just off of PA-33 North, is the little town of Belfast, Pennsylvania: population 1,257. Right outside the city limits sits Moe's, a small 24-hour diner whose newest waitress, Rachel Berry, has taken her best friend Kurt's advice and started a calm summer temp job away from the hustle-and-bustle of busy city life in order to rest up before her final year at NYADA.During her very first midnight shift, she encounters a group of rowdy regulars led by a pink-haired woman with piercing hazel eyes. Quinn Fabray is the leader of the Skanks, a small but well-known local biker gang that doesn't take shit from anyone.So began the strangest summer of Rachel Berry's life.

6. Talk by saintdyke

Chapters: 17/? [43k] [last updated may 2019]

This is another one I’m sad hasn’t updated in a while! This honestly stole my heart to a point that in the time I found it in mid April 2019 and June of 2019 I have re-visited the fic 105 times, rereading it at least half as many as that. I’m really hoping the author comes back to the fic, because it was keeping me on the edge of my seat.

warning for violence, abuse mentions and depictions, homophobia and ptsd triggers!

(Previously titled Grease Stains, Starry Skies) Famous actress Rachel Berry’s car breaks down in the middle of nowhere. A pretty blonde with a blue truck rescues her from the side of the road, and just so happens to own an Auto Repair shop in town. Quinn is frustrating and mysterious, and Rachel is just as stubborn. Together, they start a revolution.

5. Just off the Key of Reason by iamapanda

Chapters: 30/30 [129k]

This one is another absolute classic in the Faberry fandom, and is another fic that has stuck with me throughout the years! It has a fantastic softer take on Quinn that I truly appreciated because everyone back in the early years of the fandom would make her so angry and bitter and she’s just so soft in some interpretations

Rachel Berry is a successful Broadway star with a new roommate, the very odd, naive Quinn Fabray. It starts with a note on the fridge and a childishly scrawled doodle of an elephant. Everybody has a little crazy in them.

4. Still off the Key of Reason by iamapanda

Chapters: 37/37 [185k]

The sequel to Just off the Key of Reason! Still as soft and as crazy! I can’t mention one without having the other in the list as well! I can’t explain how it feels to look at the ff.net pages after so long, my heart is transported back to 2011 and I’m sitting on my bed after I’m supposed to be in bed. I miss the days where I could just spend time reading these fics and not having adult responsibilities.

Quinn is thundering her way through vet school. Rachel is enlightening the west coast with her talent. The story continues with a wedding, dogs in tuxedos, and Pooh Bear vows. Crazy never fades.

3. A Million Miles of Fun by Jade8Devlin

Chapters: 12/12 [103k]

This one is a little different from the last ones! It isn’t my favorite because of its literary genius, but because of how fun and out there it is! It’s concept is fresh and dark and something I honestly didn’t expect to see but it quickly grew to be a favorite for me!

warning for violence, abuse, mentions of murder! the whole story revolves around The Unholy Trinity + Rachel murdering Quinn’s family so please take that into consideration!

And in Lima, Ohio, a man and woman were killed earlier today during what is believed to be a home invasion. Russell Fabray was last seen leaving Gas'N'Go at two o'clock; his wife, Judith, from a grocery story an hour earlier. Police are linking the double homicide to the area's recent surge in breaking and entering – though these appear to be the first fatalities. The victims are survived by their daughters; Quinn and Stacey."Jessalyn Briggs shuffles the papers on her desk, clearing her throat. The somber expression on her face seems to float off her as she turns towards camera 3."Otis-the-Otter finishes today's news headlines as the little critter that could. Abandoned by his mother and found foraging for scraps in the Nelson family's garbage cans, Otis has proven; if you can't teach an old dog new tricks, teach them to an otter! Otis placed second at this year's Ohio Dog Show after last year's well-documented struggle by the Nelson family to allow Otis to be included. Well done Otis, we here at Channel 43 salute you.

2. The Silence of Silence by your.kat

Chapters: 31/31 [135k]

This one... I can’t describe why I liked it, I just liked it.

warning for mental health, and trauma [possible others, please read with caution]

Quinn and Rachel meet at Haverbrook under unusual circumstances. Why is Rachel silent? And why does Quinn care? "You can hear," Quinn said simply, "but can you speak?"; "Yes," Rachel signed. "I can speak. But silence is a friend who will never betray."

1. Kissing Quinn Fabray by vondrunkaton

Chapters: 6/6 [45k]

This one just makes me super warm and fuzzy inside. I don’t think I can say it’s entirely changed my life but it’s just so soft and i love it

Quinn comforts Rachel after Finn says something oafish. Rachel is surprised by how sweet Quinn is. There's also some making out in delicious detail. Fluffy getting together fic.

I am super open to talking about more fics I love/like and other pairings! This was a ton of fun to talk about and sent me down memory lane! I went searching for two hours on a vague memory of a fic that I think has been deleted by now. But if anyone wants to help me track it down! Hit me up and I’ll give you the details!

#faberry #glee #rachel berry #quinn fabray #faberry fic #god please someone help me find this fic #Anonymous

147 notes · View notes

galpalaven · 4 years ago

Note

sfw 1-5 and nsfw 2, 6, 12

SFW

1. Who cooks?

They both cook! They really love cooking together and spending that time together. They’re also both from cultures that have very good food, so if you ever get invited over to theirs for dinner, the chances are it’s going to be something really good.

In general, they tend to take turns cooking different meals depending on who is feeling up to it if they’re not both going to help out. Ilya tends to make breakfast more often, and Nox does dinner more often.

2. Who’s the messiest? The cleanest?

They’re both fairly neat, but Nox also grew up with a maid in the house so, even though she cleans up after herself, she tends to forget or not notice things until they’re Really Bad.

Ilya cleans more often, both as a side effect of his weird need to always be doing something, but also because he grew up with a single mother with two younger siblings, so he ended up helping out a lot around the house. He finds cleaning helpful for his mental health if he’s stressed out.

3. Who fixes the vehicle after a breakdown?

A mechanic lol neither of them know how to fix a car. Nox doesn’t even like to drive in general.

4. Living space has a leak! Who fixes it?

Ilya probably does his best to patch it with a YouTube video but they probably end up with a plumber being called in lol

5. Who buys the groceries?

They get groceries together! They have a lot of fun shopping together so unless they’re ordering groceries for delivery they are going together to get the stuff they need.

NSFW

(below the cut)

2. Who brings ideas? Who initiates?

Ilya actually brings most of the ideas! After his (truly abysmal) relationship with Carter, in which he was generally shot down when he suggested things, he’s very excited by the idea that Nox is open to letting him try things. These things typically have to do with Ilya being on top or ‘in charge’, because he had positions he was interested in and wanted to try, but Carter always talked him out of it and convinced him that he just wasn’t built to be a ‘top’ - that Ilya was too shy and too much of a ‘bottom’ to be able to do any of that successfully.

(I hate using those words but they’re the correct ones fjkdsl Ilya’s definitely vers/switch but I can’t remember which of those words is the right one - guess it would depend on the ~activities~ of the evening sldkjf)

This was absolutely not true, but Carter’s enjoyment of degrading language and pretty hardcore BDSM definitely hindered Ilya’s confidence in the bedroom.

Nox initiates way more than he does, mostly because he’s constantly afraid of overstepping boundaries or making Nox feel like she can’t say no, because he’s been the one on the receiving end of unwanted advances by a partner and went along with it when he felt like he couldn’t say no and he doesn’t want to do that to her ever.

6. Dom/top? Sub/bottom? Any switches?

My musing in the last answer wasn’t needed I see jfklds

Nox is definitely very much a bottom-leaning switch. In previous relationships she was usually the bottom, but with Ilya, she just can’t help herself sometimes - he’s just so much fun to tease.

Ilya is actually far more top-leaning than he originally thought he was. His first sexual relationship was a train wreck with Carter, and he did spend some time after Carter treating himself to bad hookups with people that treated him like shit and made him feel like shit. That didn’t last too long, though, because his siblings noticed the bruises and threatened to tell their mom on him and that made him stop lmao

Despite that, however, as much as Ilya likes to be on top, he is also very much on the ‘men get pegged’ train. Sometimes you just want your girlfriend to pin you down and rail you until you can’t remember your own name, you know?

12. How are their afterglows?

They’re wonderful.

Aftercare was something Ilya’s ex often skimped on, that he would withhold for petty reasons or just because he didn’t feel like cuddling after.

The fact that Nox doesn’t want to immediately leave the room or leave him alone afterwards was wild at first - wild, but welcome. The time they spend in that post-orgasm haze, holding each other and trying to catch their breath, idly tracing little senseless designs into each other’s skin, kissing, waiting for their ability to stand to come back - it’s almost better than sex sometimes.

Pillow talk is breathless laughter and murmured reassurances, and after that sometimes they will take a quick shower together just so they can go to bed clean and satisfied. Nox likes to wash his hair when they shower together after sex, even though it means he has to sit down because she can’t reach the top of his head otherwise. Ilya loves the scalp massage that comes with it, so he’s always happy to oblige.

They’re so sweet on each other it’s nauseating.

#babebot #kiana answers #nox pendragon #ilya fisher

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ditzyforlornn-reverie · 4 years ago

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The 5 W’s and 1 H: Quarantine Edition

It feels like it was just yesterday when I last drank Boba tea with my classmates in front of our college building but at the same time, their presence feels so long ago. I don’t even understand why I miss the polluted air I breath every time I ride the buses. I can still hear the tease I got when my friends found out that I made a TikTok account and today it seems like people’s lives revolve around it. I am still confused if March feels like yesterday, or decades ago.

No one saw this coming so we came onto this battle unprepared with zero expectations. But one thing’s for sure, we all did not expect how long this pandemic is. Everyone’s lives are affected may it be positive or negative. From financial, social, and mental, there are literally no escape from this hell hole.

Now, with everything that has happened and may or may not still be happening, I have my own takeaways, the 5 W’s and 1 H.

WHAT

What good things have I done throughout the pandemic?

Surprisingly, as a person who hates being productive, I have done a lot during this pandemic. I have created donation drive(s) for students in need and another one for the victims of the recent typhoons.

#BaryaMoAralKo was the name of my donation drive and when I look back onto it, I feel like this is the biggest project I have ever done that would always makes me feel proud about myself. I have helped students who did not have devices to be used for online learning and I have helped send food packs for the victims of typhoons.

Besides being so proud about it, it also feeling humbling to just have all these privileges I have as a person and not struggle at all like the people I have helped.

What does stress look like?

Online learning sucks. 3 words to describe everything a university student is experiencing nowadays. It is truly difficult to face all these workloads without a proper support system.

Let’s all be honest; we all have a few professors that clearly do not have the sensitivity and consideration for their students. The workload they give us is too much to handle. Everything is draining and they do not even care.

Facing this pandemic alongside with our personal problems, having this unbelievable workload in school to face every day is just too much for a young adult.

Plus my heart goes to all the family members who are experiencing more domestic abuse.

WHERE

Where have I been for the last months?

Besides being at home, my mom and I go grocery shopping almost every other week. That still depends if she has work to do at home during Sundays.

Back when I was a younger, I hated going grocery shopping for the fact that I hate following my mom around the grocery store and getting bored but recently, it is one of the days I look forward to the most every week. I get to go out and breathe through polluted air produced by jeepneys along the highway, I get to see other people’s faces, I get to smell other scents other than my dog’s, and to be honest my most favorite part about going out, I have a reason to dress up.

Where should I put my energy?

Exercise, television, meditation, entertaining yourself, being unproductive, just basically anything. At these times, you should not pressure yourself into being productive. We are all struggling and you shouldn’t be overstretched about not being able to do anything during quarantine. It is okay, you are okay, just breathe.

It is also feels amazing to pour out your energy to the people you love. There is nothing more amazing to see your loved ones smiling.

WHEN

When was the last time I took care of myself?

It is true that this pandemic stresses the hell out of us but always look back to the things you have been taking advantage of when you were too busy in the real world.

I honestly felt healthier with my mental health throughout this pandemic for the reason of being able to just be in my own little bubble most of the time and not worrying about trying to fake emotions In front of other people. I was able to spent time with my family, my girlfriend, and even my dogs. If you put it into a word, it is kind of a cleanse as a person. Now, I am talking with my privilege but I am also acknowledging the bad effects of this pandemic in our mental health.

When to ask for help?

Honestly, there are no specific time. Just whenever you are struggling, always seek for it and don’t be ashamed of doing so.

This pandemic brought out true colors from other people. I have seen a lot of people who have been getting irritated at individuals who seek help online and it disgusts me. How can you degrade someone for seeking for help and call them derogatory names just because you are privilege enough to not experience their struggles? My heart goes to all those people who were so brave to break down their walls and pursue for support. They probably hated their selves first after gaining the courage of doing that.

WHO

Who should I look after?

Besides taking care of yourself, please do look after your family and friends. Family, especially our parents which we do not realize, we haven’t spent quality time with. Sometimes we are too busy growing up that we do not realize that they are getting older too.

Look after your friends. No matter how much positive they were the last time you were with them, check in with them and ask how they are doing. A simple “how have you been?” could go a long way. We need to look after each other’s mental health and be the support system that we struggle to have during these times.

Who am I today?

What makes this pandemic weird is that it made my mental health worst but at the same time, it kind of helped too. I got some proper rest and self-seeking but at the same time got overwhelmed with the responsibilities in school and as a daughter.

But to be honest, I’ve never felt healthier.

WHY

Why do you need to stay?

No, I am not just talking about staying inside your home. I meant, why do you need to stay here, alive, fighting, and facing your battles? I know you are struggling and that is okay.

Sometimes it feels like the whole world is against you and that is valid but why do you need to keep fighting? Do it for yourself. Stay and find the reason that may never make sense but find it.

You are brave, strong, and worthy of everything good in the world. You matter.

Why should I appreciate the little things?

I absolutely miss the sound of loud horns along the highway, the smell of public bathrooms, the frustration I feel whenever it rains and I forgot my umbrella, the satisfaction of being a minute early than my professors, and just everything in between. Some of it may sound gross but I am not ashamed of missing these.

The little things that I do and experience every day, I used to take advantage of and it sucks that I don’t even have any idea when I can experience them again.

To make it less serious, I am more worried that I took advantage of having allowance, and now I barely have money in my bank account after spending everything on online shopping.

HOW

How should I prepare for the normal days?

This “new normal” doesn’t feel new for us at all anymore. We got used to wearing face masks, face shield, spraying alcohol after touching anything in public, and doing everything online.

It is funny to think that the ‘normal’ that we got used to before, would probably feel like a stranger by the time this pandemic is done.

Preparation? There are probably a lot of ways to do so but just keep in mind that this is not a one-time thing. Always be careful and take care of yourself even when the virus is gone. Prepare yourself physically and mentally.

And always be reminded that you should appreciate the little things you can still afford doing.

We may never have any idea for now when this is going to end but one this you should remember that is, we only have one life in this world. Live, and seize your every day. Find support that you can share your moments with even when you are both away. Be thankful that we are still here and try to find yourselves worth.

#COVID #COVID19 #PANDEMIC #QUARANTINE #ACADEMICS #MENTALHEALTH

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pjstafford · 4 years ago

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A Look at my 2020

The end of the year is upon us. It’s been a tough one for all of us. It is a year we will all remember forever. I want to do a positive reflection of this year. I will probably write a blog about what I hope our country’s New Years Resolutions should be. The thoughts on that have been rolling around my head for a few days. But today, December 16, at 4:30 a.m. and unable to sleep, that 2020 familiar dread of what will happen today waking me early, I want to look at some positives. I want to unwrap the positives of 2020 like a Christmas gift before Christmas so that I can wrap myself in them as a blanket of warmth. One thing that I have been truly impressed with is the resilience of the human spirit. Let’s call this a resilience exercise.

Counting my blessings one by one...

1. I am alive. Surviving is a cause for celebration. As far as I know I have been COVID free...although there were a few days in April or early May when I was sick with something and in Feb I had the strangest cold in my life and this time last year weeks of fatigue ended in frozen shoulder syndrome on Christmas Eve. See, I want to be thankful, but I don’t want to be naive in my retrospection. Best to be honest. I’m not sure if I had COVID or not, but if I did I survived with relatively minor symptoms. Every cough or sniffle I feared in a completely irrational way was COVID. There was the week I walked around sniffing everything to make sure I could still smell. It dawns on me it is going to be difficult to write a honest and, yet, positive, retrospective of 2020. I am alive, but I have never been less healthy. I’ve gained weight. I haven’t had the physical exercise to which I am accustomed and now when I try to take a long walk I realize my stamina is gone. It will take years of concentrated effort once things are “back to normal” for me to become normal again. It wasn’t that I didn’t try. I did yoga daily in the Spring and switched to an online Tai chi class in the summer, but I don’t live near beauty or anything interesting so wasn’t motivated to walk and just my everyday life of lockdown in a studio apartment meant less movement. All of which sounds even to me like not very good justification. Did I mention though that I survived. I am alive. I will take that as blessing number one.

2. No one I care about very deeply has died or even been seriously ill from COVID. Doesn’t March 2020 seem far away? I don’t want to be dismissive of 300;000 dead especially with more to come. I or someone I love could still be gone by New Years Day. But in March and April we held our breaths for an apocalypse and at some point most of us decided to take a breath. I don’t know really if it’s good or bad that we have simply adjusted our normal and the number deaths we are willing to accept. It’s bad, what am I saying? It’s bad. But how long can we wait in fear? So I don’t know, but I want to count as a blessing that those I love have all survived to date. I cannot vanquish the fear, but I can be grateful for survival.

3. I have maintained employment in a bad economy and have mostly been able to work from home. There have been some struggles. Sometimes the work I do is depressing. Sometimes I feel I don’t make a difference. There has never been a worse time to be an advocate...or a person with disability, or a caregiver, or a provider agency, or a health care professional. I have maintained employment.

4. I count among my blessings the fact that I had a wonderful 2020 before....remember there was a 2020 before. I love when my work takes me to Santa Fe for a prolonged time. A friend came out in Feb for a wonderful weekend. Another friend came to Albuquerque to see me for my birthday in early March. I remember thinking how social I was in those first ten weeks in 2020. It’s as if I somehow knew....it sustained me.

5. I count among my blessings that when I felt my mental health despair getting at its worse...the strain of living alone in a studio apartment, working from that same apartment and following the Governor orders not to go or do anything. ..that I had friends and two weekends of “risky” behavior; a friend who came for the Fourth of July holiday and an out of state trip to Durango in late September. I’m fortunate that when I had to have human contact my closest friends were there for me

6. I count as my blessings that Biden won the election. It’s not simply a matter of politics. I’m not sure if the last eight months of the Trump Presidency wasn’t worse for my morale than the pandemic because Trump kind of lost whatever semblance of sanity he had. Part of the trepeditation over what each new day will bring is what Trump will say, do, tweet, exacerbate. I still fear revolution in the street before Jan 20. The pandemic is not the worse of what America has gone through. That’s the oddest thing about this year.

7. Here is the blessing which probably will be unpopular. The lockdown and stress of all we have experienced is tough, but the slowdown is a blessing for me. My life had gotten pretty busy. While I miss travel, it’s ok for a year not to have had the time suck that travel for work entails. I will be so happy the first work trip I get to go on, but I feel like 2020 has given me the gift of time. It’s odd because, like many, my creative sense has suffered. I have written almost nothing. Still, I often think of a Dylan lyric, maybe in the next life I will be able to hear myself think. I could hear myself think this year. Unfortunately I thought about the existentialist angst of the meaning of life and my failures as a human being and I don’t think there is enough time still to process the effects of the pandemic and I’m sick to death of the sound of my thoughts, but....I have been given this unique gift of time. Even on December 16th I am not rushed to shop, to cook, to decorate, to go to a zillion parties. It’s a different year. The Holiday will still come. It is pleasant not to feel urgency over, let’s face it, non-urgent things. I am mentally and emotionally fatigued, but not nearly as physically exhausted as I was this time last year

8. The next one is a big one. The gift of living in the moment. I have spent my entire life since 7th grade when Miss O’Neil gave me a copy of The Rubyait of Omar Khayyam trying to live with the philosophy of living for the now. Clear the cups of past regrets...tomorrow, why I may be myself with yesterday’s seven thousand years. The only time I have ever truly experience this is in a handful of concert experience. Even now, I fear for my future and I blame myself for my mistakes. Still, my relationship with time has changed. There is the sun rising and setting and that is a day. Seasons will change. But the gift of time means I can approach my day differently. When five o clock comes on a workday, a needed nap is a step away. No where to go on a Friday night... no where I can go...means the weekend rhythm exists only as I define it. The simple pleasures we always take for granted mean something more now. There is a coffee truck that stops near me on Fridays and Saturdays. When it first started stopping I was over the moon that I could walk and get a latte with fairly little risk. If I go to the grocery store and have a conversation with a stranger, it is different than it was before. Mindfulness exercise and meditation is one thing, but nothing can compare with this year to further my lessons in this pursuit. May I take the lesson with me into years to come.

9. Zoom...yes, of course I have zoom fatigue. But five friends in five different states having a monthly drink together on zoom is a benefit of the pandemic. I watched a movie this year with someone who lives in Brazil. I celebrated a friend’s sixtieth person even though I couldn’t be with her. I’ve attended book discussions and readings in New York and I already have tickets to an event in March. Kind of love New York. I’ve never been there in person. Just a lot happens there. Educationally and socially the world is now open to me. I am not limited to what is going on in my community. I hope this doesn’t completely go away.

10. Finally, storytelling and music. I found it hard to read new things in the lockdown for a while, but in March friends asked me to a virtual book club of three books I already read and we reread them together which took us into the summer. I rediscovered the Foundation series of Asimov and suddenly I could read again! My favorite book I’ve read published in 2020 is Jess Walter’s The Cold Million. I did read a digital advance copy of David Duchovny’snew book due out in 2021 and it is, in fact, the breakout novel I knew this hot young writer would eventually write. Looking forward to 2021 book club! I finally binged Breaking Bad and The Travelers as well as The Queens gambit and watched Peanut Butter Falcon. I am doing a disability focused watch on the X Files and I better kick it it the rear because I’m presenting on it in Feb. at a conference. My God, Dylan put out his first original music in eight years. It will take me eight years to fully ingest it and enjoy it. You see, no matter what happens, humanity will tell its stories and gather to make its songs. It’s that human resilience. Creation of art is not trivial. It’s vital. It has continued in this odd and strange year. It is humanity’s greatest gift and I have definitely used it this year as a resilience and growth tool.

Those are my top blessings in this horrific and, yet, wondrous year. However, you have been impacted, what we all share in common is that In a very short time it will be a memory of a year in the past.

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