#my mom is always stressed and now she’s incredibly stressed out and feels like vomiting | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tryingmybestpls · 4 years ago

Text

Golden

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: The Reader and Bucky go through different stages of the Reader’s pregnancy.

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, giving birth

Two Months

Y/N had been mulling over how she was going to tell him since she found out a week ago. She had thought her anxiousness and worries would have faded away after she saw those two little lines on the test. No, they had only increased ten-fold, only worsening when she went to her doctor and got an official test. Her stomach tossing and turning when the doctor told her that she's been pregnant for eight weeks. Y/N was now stuck with the most important and difficult part of this whole thing-telling Bucky Barnes that she was pregnant with his baby.

How does one tell an over one hundred year old super soldier that they're going to be a father? Getting a tiny Brooklyn Dodgers onesie made? Too cliché. Make some awful pun themed dinner that might include "buns in the oven"? Might go over his head. Hand him the sonogram that she had gotten after the pregnancy test just to be sure? He's from the forties, what the fuck is he going to know about a sonogram?

Y/N was terrified over he was going to react. Bucky was barely getting used to the world, barely getting used to having control of his own mind. And while he had been doing a lot better and he makes sure to take care of himself, Y/N didn't know how he would handle the stress of a baby. Did he even want to be a dad? Y/N didn't even know if she wanted to be a mom, but she know that somehow it felt right. They've never even talked about having children and now-well they were sort of past the point of thinking about having kids.

The whole situation made her want to vomit, and she was pretty sure it wasn't just from the morning sickness.

Y/N eventually landed on telling him over dinner. Nothing too fancy, just the usual place they always go to so that Bucky wouldn't think anything was up. All day long as she sat through meeting after meeting, her date got closer and closer, and that dread that had settled in the pit of her stomach grew with every second. Y/N felt like she was going to vomit by the time she met up with her boyfriend back at their apartment. Luckily, Bucky talks the entire car ride to the restaurant, complaining about something Sam did that day. She uses her training for good, covering up her nervousness with a neutral face.

They made their regular small talk as they sit in the back of the restaurant at their usual table. Y/N orders her usual lemonade while Bucky orders a Coke. They share a basket of bread and Y/N hopes that the carbs soak up the acid that keeps threatening to rise up her throat. Each time she wants to bring up her news, their waitress would come up with refills, an E.T.A on their food, or just to ask how they were doing. And each time, Y/N would glare daggers at her back once she was turned around to walk away.

Then their respective plates of pasta were placed in front of them. Bolognese for Bucky, arrabbiata for Y/N. While usually she immediately dives into her plate, the way her stomach is twisting and turning, she's unable to eat. Y/N pushes her pasta around with her fork as she works up the courage to talk to him. She just didn't know how to say it. All she knew is that she had to say it. Y/N puts down her fork, moving to wipe her now sweaty hands on the cloth napkin on her lap as she looks up at him. Bucky was raising a pasta laden fork up to his mouth as she opened hers.

"I'm pregnant." She finally blurts out. Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, barely audible over the noise of the other guests at the restaurant. She was afraid that he couldn't hear her, afraid that she was going to have to say it again. But by the way Bucky's eyes widen, she knew that he had heard her loud and clear. He lowers his fork, mouth opening and shutting.

"I-What? You're-What?" The super soldier asks, looking from her face to her stomach and back to her face. Y/N felt like she was going to be sick to her stomach, the blood draining from her face.

"I-I'm pregnant. I found out last week." Y/N manages to get out, still looking down at her plate. Her eyes started to sting and she tried to blink her eyes rapidly in order to keep her tears at bay. Bucky's silence is deafening and Y/N wishes she could run out of the restaurant, but it's like she's glued to the chair. She wants him to say something-anything, but he is silent. Y/N is about to say something when he holds his hands up, almost in defense.

"Wait. I-I don't want you to be upset. I'm not mad-I just don't know how to put my feelings into words. I'm happy. I'm really happy. I just-You know I'm not good with words." Bucky finally speaks, stumbling over his words. Her eyes widen and she quickly looks up at him.

"I-Really?" Y/N asks, the knot her stomach slowly unraveling. Bucky nods, a small smile appearing on his face. This time the tears that are filling her eyes from happiness.

"I'm not going to pretend that I know anything about babies or raising a child, but I'm sure I can figure it out." Bucky jokes, his metal hand fiddling with his utensils on the table. Y/N feels a million times better, a huge weight being lifted off of her shoulders. He looks up at her again, "I'm happy, Y/N. I am."

"Me too. Me too."

Four Months

As Y/N walked into her apartment, the only thing on her mind was kicking her shoes off, taking off her bra that was digging into her sides, and taking a much deserved nap. Her meeting had ended early and with Rhodey not needing help with anything, she had decided to return to her apartment. Yet, with not even a foot inside of the apartment, she was immediately greeted with an argument.

"No, what I am saying is you're painting wrong." Bucky snaps, which makes Y/N's eyebrow raise. Her boyfriend wasn't in sight, but he certainly was in the apartment somewhere. She sets her things down, walking over to where the arguing is coming from.

"How the hell can I be painting wrong? I'm putting paint on the wall. The wall is getting painted." Sam fires back and Y/N has to force herself to not laugh, covering her mouth. She stands in the doorway of the guest room, taking in the sight in front of her. The floor and furniture was covered in plastic tarp, blue painting tape lining the white molding and outlets. Painting supplies littered the room and standing in the middle of all of it were two idiots, both of them holding paint rollers covered in a light sage green paint.

"I'm sorry-what's going on here?" Y/N questions, motioning to the two of them and the mess in the room. Their heads snapped towards her, nervous smiles spreading across their faces. They looked like two kids that have been caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

"Hey doll-uh fuck-surprise." Bucky announces a little defeatedly while Sam gives a one handed jazz hand. Y/N laughs, carefully stepping into the room as the 106 year old man tries to explain, "I-We were going to surprise you by painting the room. Why are you home so early?"

"My meetings ended early and I am extremely surprised. Thank you and thank you too, Sammy." Y/N says sweetly, smiling at the two of them. Bucky lets out a sigh of relief and Sam chuckles. While the men may not see eye to eye all of the time, Sam has been a great help to both of them. The man had some knowledge about babies and children, being the proud uncle to two little boys, and he had been trying his best to put some of Bucky's worries at ease.

"I'm just trying to be a really great uncle." Sam teases, which makes the super soldier roll his eyes. Bucky didn't have any living siblings and Y/N's teammates were the closest thing she had to family so it was going to be Uncle Sam, Uncle Rhodey, Auntie Pepper, Auntie Wanda, and so on and so forth. Their little patchwork support system that they were incredibly grateful for.

"Do you two need any help? I can't because I am pretty sure I'm not supposed to be inhaling paint fumes. But I can give Peter a call, I'm sure he wouldn't mind." Y/N offers, grinning from ear to ear. She knows that both men weren't exactly best friends with Peter Parker, both of them having gotten their asses handed to them by a teenager. Y/N didn't have any issues with the kid, hell she talked to him on a weekly basis. He reported to her every Friday, filling Y/N on his week. While it had first started as him telling her what Spider-Man did, it soon turned into a three hour long meeting that included take out while he filled her in the weekly drama and tales of him and his two friends. And every Friday when she would return to the apartment, Sam and Bucky would greet her by calling her traitor.

"Jesus-No, we are okay doll. I think we can manage, right Sam?" Bucky asks, looking at the other man. Sam just nods, holding his paint covered roller a little higher.

"Yeah yeah I think we will be okay. This room will be done in no time."

Seven Months

Y/N watched from her seat at the kitchen island as Bucky moved around the kitchen, attempting to make dinner.

Y/N had been put on bed rest due to the fact that the Super Serum that had affected Bucky's DNA was causing the baby to grow at an accelerated rate. Seeing that this is going to be the first baby born with the serum (that they know of), the doctor wanted Y/N to be cautious.

Bucky, had taken the doctor's words incredibly seriously, going so far as to not even let make any food, like he is doing now.

"Bucky, baby, I can help you, y'know." Y/N tells him as Bucky attempted to follow a fairly simple recipe for marinara sauce. It was already going south pretty fast. He hadn't bought the right type of tomatoes and hadn't chopped nearly enough garlic. She kept herself from micromanaging the whole thing, but it was getting harder and harder to do so.

"Doll, I used to make dinner for me and my sister. I think I can handle this." He replies, setting the knife he was using to chop up the yellow onion aside. He scoops up the onion in his hands, moving to toss it into the big pan on the stove. The onions sizzle as soon as it hits the olive oil covered surface of the pan.

When Y/N had told Bucky she was craving pasta, she had kind of meant that they would just pick something up. Bucky had decided that he would make the meal himself and Y/N, once she saw how excited he was, didn't have the heart to tell him that she had wanted take-out.

It was actually sort of sweet, seeing him trying to hard to make this meal for her. All he wanted to do is take care of her, take care of their baby. She loved cooking for him for the same reason. It was a way to show her love, to show how much she cared about him and he just wanted to do the same.

"Alright, Barnes. I believe in you." Y/N responds, smiling at him. She just watched as he cooked (and occasionally danced to the jazz music that was playing on the record player). It didn't matter if the meal sucked, Bucky was just trying his best to take care of his girlfriend and their child.

But for the record, the meal did suck.

Eight Months

It was a sight, seeing them together.

Bucky held their daughter close to his chest, bouncing her carefully as the light started to filter through the blinds of her hospital room. A smile was stretched across his tired face as he moved from side to side, cooing to her softly. His hair was a mess, his clothes incredibly wrinkled. The morning light surrounded the two like a halo and if Y/N could, she'd take a picture of them. A picture of her family.

Their daughter had been born a month early, which wasn't too surprising considering with how fast she had been growing. Although it was a shock when Y/N's water broke the night before while they were sleeping. Then Y/N had spent most of yesterday in labor, finally giving birth to their sweet baby girl-Rebecca Natalia Barnes, named after Bucky's little sister and Y/N's best friend-in the evening. Bucky had started crying when Y/N had told him that she had wanted to name their daughter after his sister, not thinking that Y/N would have wanted to pay tribute to his long dead sister.

"Look Rebecca, mommy's awake." Bucky says softly, looking over to where Y/N was laying in her bed. The Super Soldier grinned at her, still rocking their child. Y/N smiled at the two of them, shifting on the bed so she can sit up a bit more as her boyfriend walked over. She looks up at the two, her heart swelling with the way Bucky looks holding their daughter.

"Hi baby." Y/N says hoarsely, the bundle of pink shifting and squirming in Bucky's arms. She holds her arms out, silently asking if she can hold Rebecca. Bucky carefully places the newborn into her arms before he pulls the plastic chair closer to the bed, not wanting to be too far from either of them.

"I can't believe she's actually here." Y/N announces softly, taking in every detail of her daughter's face in the early morning light. She had Bucky's blue-gray eyes and his nose, but her hair. It felt weird to see her, felt weird to be holding her. Y/N felt like she was dreaming, but the pain she had gone through the night before-the pain she was still feeling now-had made it real.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Bucky asks, looking at mother and child interacting. Y/N nods, tears filling her eyes as she looks down at her daughter. She presses her lips against Rebecca's forehead, taking in that baby smell that every parenting book seemed to mention. Bucky is still smiling, looking at the two, "My two beautiful girls."

Hours from now, the hospital room would be filled with friends what were more likely family, wanting to share this incredibly special moment with the Y/L/N-Barnes family. Rebecca would be introduced with her aunts and uncles, each one of them getting a chance to hold and introduce themselves to the newborn.

But for now, for now, the three of them were alone. The three of them sat together in this room, all getting used to each other. Nothing else existed outside of this room, nothing else mattered outside of this room. All that mattered was that they were together.

#bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson #tfatws

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yslkook · 4 years ago

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UNFUCKWITABLE (9)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: jungkook convinces you to take a staycation with him for a few days (a week).

pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc

warnings: cursing, alc, excessive use of pet names, oc and jk discuss their unprotected sex practices, vomiting, some jealous jk, mild exhibitionism, fingers in oc's mouth grinding, making out, oral (m), titjob

word count: 7k

a/n: if you want to be tagged, send an ask plz. would love to hear your thoughts. also...cant believe mom manifested into butter jk im in pain

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Jungkook is unsurprised to enter your home with the key you’d given him the other week and find it completely empty. You’ve been working early mornings and incredibly late nights for the last week and a half, and he can tell it’s beginning to take a toll on you. The first sign that you were beginning to wear down was when you had skipped dinner in favor of sleeping. The second was when you had snapped at him in irritation and then immediately cried over hurting his feelings.

He can think of about a dozen other things, including the even more pronounced bags under your eyes. You’ve always had dark circles under your eyes naturally from hyperpigmentation but these days, not even concealer can help you mask them.

In fact, the reason that you’d even given him a key was because you felt like work was taking over your entire life. You’d hardly had a chance to see anyone who wasn’t a work colleague, and you just missed Jungkook. At least this way, you could wake up and go to bed with him.

You had only been calling Jungkook your partner just shy of four months, and he had a key to your home. Perhaps it was fast for other people, but with him, it felt right. So he keeps a copy of your keys on his lanyard- it’s possibly his most prized possession right now. Jungkook usually only comes when you ask him to, he’s been staying at your place for the last week because of how tired and busy you were.

Usually you stop by the tattoo parlor at least once or twice a week, but you have been sparse because of work. So he’s here, in your home without you. It felt strange the first few times he’d been here without you, but then he started leaving little pockets of himself- his shoes next to yours, his hair product on your shelf, and his two of his jackets hanging near yours in the closet. He’d even purchased a new plant to keep on your windowsill in your living room (which you take turns dutifully watering and making sure she gets enough sunlight).

It’s all very domestic. He had jokingly told you not to expose him to your shared friends, specifically Mina and Mei. To which you had rolled your eyes.

Though some small, very small, part of him wonders if the magic will fade away soon. Considering how fast you both are moving both physically into your home and in your relationship.

It’s only been a few months, and you both were incredibly comfortable with the idea of unprotected sex- after all, Jungkook always pulls out in time. Until, of course, you’d had a pregnancy scare. Hoseok and Yoongi, ever the pair of realists, had scolded him when Jungkook had revealed that you both hardly ever used any protection-

“Are you trying to knock her up? Is that it? You both ready to potentially be parents?” Yoongi says mildly as he polishes off his wine, looking at Jungkook expectantly. Jungkook’s cheeks burn.

“No, I’m not trying to knock her up and no, nobody’s trying to be parents-”

“You both are lucky you haven’t knocked her up already,” Hoseok says, with more heat in his voice, “You both are fucking stupid, but you especially.” He even smacks the back of his head with the book in his hands and Jungkook glares at him.

“Hey, my pull out game has always been strong, and I’m serious about her. We wouldn’t fuck raw if-”

“Oh, yes, then we definitely have nothing to worry about,” Yoongi says, “Keep it moving, Hobi.

“Talk to her about it, or else,” Hoseok threatens, “I don’t wanna hear about another pregnancy scare because you’re both idiots.”

“I know, I know,” Jungkook relents, “We’ve been talking about it. It just sucks that birth control can fuck up a woman’s body like that, you know? Mood changes and appetite changes, nausea and everything…”

“You could always get a vasectomy,” Yoongi says bluntly.

“Mei said the same thing. She was way more mean about it, though. Told me she’d cut my balls off if I didn’t get my shit together.”

“I don’t blame her, considering what a mess you both were last month.”

“We were not a mess!”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so stressed ever in your life, not even when your first bike got run over by a car. Or when your tattoo got infected three consecutive times. And I’ve never seen her cry so much before.”

“Alright, maybe we’re a little bit of a mess.”

In the end, you and Jungkook had both decided that yes, condoms were probably a good idea. Considering the pregnancy scare you had last month, you both were on edge and a little paranoid. Jungkook hadn’t even mentioned the idea of you taking birth control or getting an IUD, knowing that your last few experiences with the former were unpleasant-

“I can get a vasectomy, you know. In fact, Yoongi suggested it,” Jungkook shrugs nonchalantly but your jaw drops.

“Jungkook. I don’t think vasectomies are reversible like that. Think about what you’re saying,” You murmur, “I’m touched you’d consider a surgical procedure so I don’t have to take birth control, but what if-”

“I looked it up, they can be reversed-”

“But Jungkook! You don’t know that, what if you want to have kids later and you can’t because you decided on a fucking whim to get a vasectomy? It’s still trauma on your body! You can’t just snip snap, snip snap your vas deferens tube whenever you please. At least with birth control you can start and stop it, even if that’s not a completely benign process.”

Jungkook looks at you long and hard, his tongue poking his cheek and you sigh. “But I don’t-”

“Honey. I appreciate your thoughtfulness,” You murmur, squeezing his hands in yours, “But we’re both being stupid. We’re both acting like condoms don’t exist. Why don’t we start with condoms and then think about getting your tubes tied or me getting an IUD?”

“You spoiled me,” Jungkook complains dramatically and drops his head to your chest, “With your pussy. I’m spoiled now.”

“Shut up.”

And so now, a box of condoms sits in the drawer of your nightstand and you’ve taken to bringing a few with you in your purse as well (and so does he). You’d been far more nervous buying condoms than you’d ever been of buying anything else, and Jungkook had only cockily grinned at you.

Today’s Friday and it’s the day of your deadline. Meaning that you’d hopefully be home soon and be his for the rest of the weekend. He fully plans on getting you to relax and stay in for the majority of the weekend, so that you can catch up on sleep.

But then you come home past dinner (you had sent him a text earlier telling him that you were going to be late. He knows your mood is sour- you had been in a foul mood all week, and the fact that you’re so close to being home but so far just makes it worse). You come home with an empty belly, a weary mind and wetness along your lash line. Climbing into bed next to him, you circle your arms around his waist and cry tiredly into his chest.

“J-Jungkook,” You hiccup, “I’m so tired, they kept me s-so late today but it’s done. Everything is finished-”

“Oh, baby,” He sighs, rubbing your back soothingly, “It’s okay. We can just sleep now. You should take a few days off next week, baby.”

“I don’t know…” But your eyes are wide and considering it.

“You’ve been running on empty all week,” Jungkook points out, “For longer than that. Your job can handle two or three days without you while you recharge. Text your boss, baby. You need to rest, too.”

He nudges your cheek with his nose and you hum in agreement. “Okay. Five day weekend? Sure you won’t get tired of me?” You murmur and laugh when he squeezes your waist.

“We can make it a staycation.”

And you’re already texting your boss, telling her that you needed a few days off next week. She gives you a thumbs up and encourages you to rest up, making it a point to recognize how hard you’ve been working. She even suggests you take the full week off, which you jump at and Jungkook only grins at you.

“My brilliant girl, charming her way into a full week off.”

You swat his hand away and hide your burning but satisfied face in his chest. “Yeah, your bad habits are rubbing off on me.”

“Oh, that’s not the only thing rubbing off on you,” Jungkook says wickedly and pushes his hips into yours, earning a fierce pinch to his bare waist.

“Hush, I’m trying to nap,” You mumble, your voice muffled. Without warning, you lick his neck and bite lightly at the base of his neck, ignoring his soft yelp. He doesn’t have a chance to question you on what that was, as you’re already falling asleep.

You’ve always thought from the beginning, even when you and Jungkook were just friends, that he was an ass man. You’ve caught him staring at your ass many, many times- in jeans, in a dress, in a skirt. And now that you both are officially together, he spends any and every moment he can with a hand on your ass. Casually, when you both walk side by side. And purposefully when you’re both just in his bed or on your couch. His hand is a well known presence on your ass, not that you’re complaining.

One of Jungkook’s favorite places to nap is on your ass, with his cheek pressed into you and one hand firmly gripping your ass. He also likes laying with his head on your lap. But his favorite place to nap is with his head buried in your chest, specifically buried in between your tits. He is currently analyzing his hypothesis that your right tit is smaller than your left, a thought he’s had for a while now, but needs further samples of evidence to properly assess.

But he’s always had an affinity for your tits, whether you’re blissfully unaware of it or not. You don’t notice it not really- you like any and all of his touches on any inch of your skin, as you’ve told him many times before. Especially when he holds you close next to him or under him and you feel protected, surrounded by only him.

He holds you, looks at you as if you’re as soothing as the sea and as bright as a supernova. And yet, the universe is contained in his big, doe eyes.

But really, at the end of the day, it’s an affinity for you. Jungkook loves every part of your mind, body, and soul, and he thinks he has for a long time. His heart has been tangled with yours since the first time he had seen you years ago at Hobi’s surprise birthday party that you had planned. Jungkook is sure that when he had seen you with a homemade red velvet cheesecake with a ‘Happy Birthday Hobi <3’ written perfectly in red icing in your arms, a silly party hat on your head, and a shy, beaming smile on your lips, he had been magnetized to your center of gravity from then on.

But even then, he had only hovered. Barely introducing himself, if it weren’t for Mina and Mei. He thought he had known girls like you- girls who baked cakes, planned elaborate birthday parties for their friends and wore flowery dresses liked other predictable people. It’s another one of his hypotheses (which has been clearly debunked)- but by now, he knows not to be so judgmental of others.

But he doesn’t dwell on that for long. Even the first time he met you, right after he had introduced himself to you and you had stared at him with starstruck eyes and stammered a quiet ‘hello’ in return, Sora had cornered him. And told him to back off from right then, that you were off limits. That you’d never be interested in a guy like him, so to not even spend a second in his stupid little mind even entertaining the ridiculous idea.

So he backed off subconsciously, thinking it wasn’t worth it to even know you as a friend. He’d convinced himself that it was too much trouble, and Jungkook has always been an easygoing kind of guy in most instances. After all, your best friend would know you best, right? And really, what did he care? As the saying goes, there were about a million other fish in the sea.

However. Even then, with each word uttered between you both, with each laugh that he pulled from your soft mouth, he couldn’t help the reluctant fondness for you that began to bloom. You had surprised him every few months after that, just saying hello at events that you were both present at and asking how he was. With that stupidly beautiful smile and those bright, shy eyes.

You were a smart, kind woman, always remembering details about others. And he was no exception.

That was years ago. He’s known you since your third year at university, hanging by a thread just outside your orbit. But this is now.

This is now, and your lips are against his neck, your chest pressed to his. You climb into his lap haphazardly, nearly knocking your mug off of the coffee table. You both have only just woken up and stumbled out of bed for coffee and breakfast. You had combed the tangles out of his bedhead with his head in your lap, but now sleepiness has washed away and you’re tugging at his oversized shirt.

You promptly bite him, right where his neck tattoo starts and ends. Jungkook meets your eyes with an incredulous, breathy laugh. “What’s gotten into you?” He murmurs, palming your chest from under your shirt.

“Nothing. You just have a very biteable neck, I told you,” You say, resuming your inspection of the vein next to his tattoo, “What a juicy jugular vein-”

Jungkook holds your wrist and flips you so that your back is on the couch. “My sexy vampire girlfriend. Love when she starts talking about my jugular vein.”

“Watch out, I might drink from it. You never know,” You giggle with a wink, squirming in his grip.

“You can do whatever you want,” Jungkook murmurs but then an idea that has been planted in his head for weeks now spills from his lips without him meaning to, “I wanna fuck your tits, baby.”

Your eyes go comically wide, mimicking Jungkook’s own. His cheeks are a little pink from his abrupt confession as silence falls between you both.

“That’s really interesting,” You muse.

“Is it?” He asks, feeling a little lightheaded. You tug a little at his purple locks to pull him down to you.

“Yeah. Always thought you liked booty. And legs,” You shrug, “But I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised.”

Jungkook’s throat is too dry for him to reply coherently. But he finds his voice after you give him a reassuring smile, “Uh, when it’s you, I like everything.”

“Me too. When it’s you, I like everything,” You mumble, heat rising in your cheeks, “And uh… you can. Do that I mean.”

“Do what?” He asks teasingly, tilting his head to the side.

“Don’t play dumb,” You whine, shoving his shoulder.

“C’mon say it,” Jungkook jeers, not unkindly, “Put your big girl panties on.”

“I hate you,” You sigh dramatically, “Fine. You can fuck my tits, if you so desire.” His face splits into a grin as he thumbs your chin and ducks his head into your neck. He playfully nips at your skin, murmuring that he’s just giving you a taste of your own medicine, but you feel his half hard cock pressing against your thigh.

The image of his cock wet and slick between your tits is now imprinted in your mind, and when both of you want something, you’ll surely get it.

Despite your eagerness of making Jungkook’s wish a reality, neither of you have had the chance for your usual shenanigans just yet. You still have quite a few days of your staycation left, so you won’t rush it. You had spent most of the first two days sleeping, cuddling, spooning, eating and lots and lots of slow sex.

You think you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve left your bed. Jungkook has been nothing short of wonderful, bringing you food (just this once, you hate eating while in bed), giving you shoulder rubs and booty rubs without you asking. Your favorite ice cream is in your freezer. Life is good.

His shirt hangs off of your shoulder and you’re too lazy to fix it. In fact you’re too lazy for pajama bottoms, only settling on your favorite pair of comfortable panties (nothing flashy. Just a standard black cotton panty) to wear under your shirt. One might even call them granny panties or whatever, but lace was uncomfortable on your skin. Lace and thongs are for very, very special occasions (hardly if ever) and you are in the comfort of your own home. You’ll be comfortable if it’s the last thing you do.

In fact, you’re too lazy to even raise your head to pucker your lips for a kiss from Jungkook. You only open your arms and hum, as if he’s supposed to telepathically know what you want from him. But he does, and he flops onto you once he tugs his shirt off. Jungkook’s face remains buried in your chest as you gently rub his scalp.

He hums happily, nearly purring at your touch and shoves himself closer into your hold. You can’t believe this man, the man who mildly intimidated you for years, is now in your arms and purring like a baby kitten. He’s admitted a few times that his scalp has been irritated and inflamed ever since he dyed his hair purple. One of his favorite things is to lay in your lap while you massage a mix of coconut oil and peppermint oil into his scalp.

He looks up at you, warm heat blazing in his eyes. You’re about to ask him what he’s thinking about but he palms your pussy from under your shirt- your still swollen, puffy pussy from the four times he’s made you cum already.

“Can I help you, Jungkook,” You ask flatly, but your poker face breaks when he dots you with kisses up and down your thighs.

“Yeah, fuck,” Jungkook groans, voice slowing to a whine, “I’m still hard, baby, fuck. Help me.”

“How are you still hard,” You wonder with a grin, “Damn, Jeon. You must really like me, huh?”

“If that wasn’t obvious then I’m clearly not doing something right here,” He breathes into your skin.

“Gimme a kiss then,” You murmur, pushing his long hair behind his ear. His eyebrow piercing glints in the light of your bedroom and you trace it gently with your fingertips. Jungkook desperately pushes his lips to yours, parting your lips easily and slipping his tongue into your mouth. He kisses your teeth hungrily, strands of his hair brushing against your cheeks.

His hips roll into yours impatiently, hands already pawing at your shirt. The air in your bedroom is suddenly so stifling, thick and nearly choking you both with the intensity of your desire. You just want him to feel good with you.

“Jungkook,” You say softly with warm cheeks, “You can use me, however you want. Tell me what you want, bunny.”

He lets out a quiet gasp, his eyes bright and wide.

You’re both on the same page, because he’s scrambling to chuck his boxers to the side and you’re tossing your shirt on top of his boxers.

***********************

“Fuuuck,” Jungkook groans. He’s breathless, heart racing erratically. All he can do is hold your shoulders as he watches with a piercing, hazy gaze as his cock is swallowed in between your tits. You squeeze them tightly together, trying to create as much friction as you can for him.

“Fuck,” He whines, “Fuck, you look so good, baby. O-oh, shit, my pretty baby, you’re pretty-”

Jungkook nearly cums when you mischievously stick your tongue out to brush against the head of his leaking cock. The visual is almost too much for him and his breaths are choked, strangled as he forces himself to look into your dark eyes.

“So big, bunny, look,” You say softly, “You like this? You’re so hot like this…”

He’s nearly in tears, eyes shining and wet at how good this feels. If your pussy was a slice of heaven, then your tits were the next best thing. You moan softly, feeling your own wetness and heat pooling. Jungkook’s cheeks and chest are flushed, eyes wild and wet as he slides his cock in between the valley of your tits languidly. Almost as if he doesn’t want the moment to end.

You’re so warm, warm everywhere.

His muscles are tense, the furrow in his brow beginning to appear when he’s about to cum. “Shit, baby, oh my god, I love your tits,” Jungkook moans, tossing his head back, “Fuck, I love everything about you-”

You don’t know how he’s able to form coherent sentences to you when he’s this close to cumming. But he’s always been a man of many talents.

“You know what I just realized,” You gasp suddenly, “Neither of us made it official that we’re dating. Like I never asked you ‘out’ and you never asked me ‘out’-”

“Fuck, you talk too much,” Jungkook nearly snarls, “My cock is literally in between your tits and I’m about to fucking cum all over you and you think I belong to anyone else?”

You swallow thickly, Jungkook narrowing his eyes at you. He looks intimidating and intense above you, his powerful, golden thighs straddling either side of you.

“N-no, I was just-”

Jungkook shoots you a glare, reaches behind him and gathers your wetness with two fingers. Before you can ask him what he’s doing, he pushes two fingers into your mouth to shut you up. You send him a glare right back, but it melts away quickly when you swirl your tongue and suck on his digits.

He cums without warning, hastily and with a broken sort of sound ripping from his throat. It’s warm and sticky as it lands on your chest and your cheek. But he cums so much and much to your chagrin some of his cum gets in your eye and you nearly shriek at the burn.

“Jungkook! What the hell, your cum is in my fucking eyeball-”

He’s still panting above you, like some sort of golden boy, and it takes him a few seconds to register your irritation. “Oh shit,” Jungkook says and jumps into action. He tugs you into the bathroom to gently wash your eye for you (after washing his own hands), with you grumbling the entire time.

“I’m sorry, baby,” He says sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. You roll your eyes and demand to be taken back to bed and lavished in kisses as penance for his cum shooting into your eye.

Jungkook tastes himself a little when his tongue slips into your mouth, but it hardly registers as he rolls on top of you, caging you in between his arms.

Jungkook fleetingly thinks he should’ve spent more time trying to convince you to stay home with him. Maybe with a few soft, long kisses to your neck, he might have. You looked delectable, good enough to eat- your dress fitted around your hips, nails, hair, and makeup done, the scent of your perfume subtle but not irritating to his sensitive nose.

You had asked him to pick what jewelry to wear, so one of his long necklaces sitting around your neck and disappearing into the valley of your chest. It doesn’t really match with your dress, but you don’t care.

And Jungkook… well, it was difficult for you to keep your hands off of him as well. His hair is tied back into a neat ponytail, he’s wearing a sequined black (fitted) button up with the top four buttons undone, a thick, silver chain and ripped, black jeans. Your eyes are glued to his chest and he knows it- you can’t help but grip his arm, his bicep whenever you can.

Neither of you really enjoyed the club scene, but you had wanted to go out since it had been a really long time and after all, you were on your staycation. Mei had planted the idea in your head, and so now here Jungkook was.

Here he was, catching flashes off the satin, coral colored wrap dress that you were encased in. For someone who doesn’t like the scene, you blend in effortlessly. But you’re a grown woman, so he takes his eyes off of you and orders a round of shots for him, Jimin, Taehyung and Jin while nursing a bottle of soju.

In the midst of the thumping bass bouncing off of the walls in the club, you’re only aware of you and Mei while you both sing along to whatever song is blasting through the club. Mina disappeared a while ago, presumably to find Jimin.

You’re holding two drinks, one in each hand, and all you feel is the vibrations of the club. Along with your own drunkenness. Mei holds your arm to keep you steady as you move your hips in time with hers. You laugh loudly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders at something she said. Everything is amplified and muted at the same time, the swirl of alcohol settling comfortably in your veins.

You’re having a great time with your friends, dancing, swirling, singing and drinking. It’s a nice night to unwind, in the company of dear friends and strangers.

“Hey,” Mei murmurs in your ear, “I gotta pee and I’m gonna go find Seulgi-”

“You can just say that you wanna go find her,” You giggle, “Don’t blame your bladder on it, Mei.”

“Oh, you’re funny. I’ll text Jungkook and tell him to come find you, alright?” Mei says, patting your head. You nod and tell her to go find her girl, and she does. Leaving you to your own devices for a bit, at least until Jungkook makes his way to you.

However, what neither of you realize is that the cell reception in this building is terrible. Mei’s text never goes through and you stay in your bubble, with your two drinks in your hands and bounce along to the music.

You’re not sure how much time goes by, but it feels like you’ve been alone for quite a while. You squint your eyes at your phone to check the time and send a text to Jungkook. A text that never goes through. You frown and are about to turn on your heel to link up with your man (wherever he might be), but you hear a surprised call of your name.

It’s hard to keep the incredulity out of your face when you come face to face with Yunho, the man who had stood you up all those months ago. The air has almost been punched out of your lungs, and you have to squint at him to believe what you’re seeing.

He calls your name again, giving you a wave and a bright smile. “Funny seeing you here, huh?”

“Uh…”

“Can I buy you a drink? I feel like I owe it to you after…” His eyes are sincere. At least you think so, with your drunk goggles on.

“I don’t know, Yunho, it’s okay…” You mumble unsurely, “Isn’t this weird?”

“It’s only weird if we make it weird,” Yunho says and pulls a chuckle out of you.

“Oh, alright. I guess a drink won’t hurt,” You shrug and lead the way to the bar. The least he can do for you after standing you up and hurting your feelings is buy you a drink, you think.

“Hey listen, I owe you an apology,” Yunho says, sliding your drink towards you.

“Oh, it’s- it was a long time ago,” You shrug, avoiding his eyes. Sure, it was a hit to your ego, but in hindsight it doesn’t matter. Not when you have Jungkook. Honestly, you’ve forgotten that Yunho had even been a blip in your radar once upon a time. It was only because of Sora, anyway.

“I had something urgent come up last minute that day and I asked Sora to tell you,” Yunho continues, “I’m sorry I didn’t follow up or even reach out to you after. But I’d heard that you were with Jeon now, so didn’t want to… overstep, I guess.”

And even through your drunken haze, you understand. You sigh deeply, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Oh boy,” You groan, “Sora never told me about that but we’re not close anymore, Yunho. It’s okay, I understand. I’m sorry she got you, too.”

Yunho’s lips part in surprise, “She didn’t… Alright. What’s done is done, I guess.”

“Yeah,” You murmur airily, “And yes, I am with Jeon. Though I can’t seem to find him…”

“I’m happy to keep you company until you do.”

Despite how well you and Yunho seem to hit it off (most of your time spent bitching about Sora), you can’t help but think of Jungkook. You quite miss him, not having seen him all night in the club. You want to dance with him, and little do you know that he’s been scouring the entire club for you in a frenzy once he ran into Mei and Mina and hadn’t seen you with them.

He had sent them a glare, his jaw clenched and walked away to find you. So when his eyes finally land on you at the bar, after about twenty-five minutes of searching and trying to get through strings of people around you, his heart soars. But he sees you laughing with someone else at the bar. With Yunho.

Jealousy is petty, he tells himself. But he struggles to keep it at bay as it rears its head and comforts him. He’s always been protective and possessive of those he loves and cherishes. You’re definitely no exception.

You wobble a little on your feet, but you hold your own. Even from here, he can see the drunkenness of your smile, beads of sweat as they race down your neck to hide in the valley of your breasts. He zeroes in on your necklace (his) around your neck and reminds himself. It’s his necklace that you’re wearing, after all.

Then why is the man who stood you up all those months ago making you laugh like that?

You must have a sixth sense or something for him, because you turn your head a bit as if you can sense him. Your entire face lights up when you see him, in a way that makes his tough heart swell in adoration.

You make your way over to him with your drink and peck his lips chastely, despite his desire to pull you into his arms and kiss you long enough that your knees buckle. So that Yunho sees that he is yours.

“You disappeared on me, baby,” Jungkook murmurs, adjusting your necklace. He’s gripping it tightly, but you don’t notice.

“I was with Yunho, remember him? ‘Member, he stood me up but he didn’t because it was Sora’s fault-”

“That’s no surprise,” Jungkook says, rolling his eyes. You take his hand, squeezing and introduce him to Yunho. As if he doesn’t know him already. Jungkook’s tongue pokes the inside of his cheek, his jaw clenched. He doesn’t like how Yunho looks at you, how his gaze lingers on your skin and the curves of your dress. You lean against Jungkook heavily, absently playing with his fingers. You stay mostly quiet, sipping your drink as the two men speak (rather tersely).

Jungkook knows he’s being ridiculous.

“Kook, finish my drink?” You murmur, offering him the glass. Jungkook maintains eye contact with Yunho as he downs the remainder of your drink in a few solid gulps.

“Was nice to see you, Yunho,” You say, “I think Jimin and Mina are looking for us, Jungkook. Enjoy the rest of your night.”

With that Jungkook firmly holds your waist, keeping you close to him. You both know that neither Jimin nor Mina are looking for either of you. You’d only wanted to be alone with Jungkook.

So Jungkook leads you to a spot where he knows Yunho can visibly see you both. You let loose, giggling as Jungkook twirls you easily and moving your arms to match the beat of the music. He makes you laugh with his moves, winking at you and shooting finger guns at you as he twirls and swivels around you. He’s always been a great dancer, you realize. That’s funny, because you’re sometimes clumsy on your own two feet. He pulls you into him, his chest to your back and his hips pressed against your ass. You sigh contentedly, head lolling against his shoulder and you rest your hand over his hand to let him lead you.

His nose is buried in your neck, lips lightly brushing your pulse. He bites your earlobe gently, earning a soft laugh from you. Jungkook tilts your jaw to the side to meet your eyes and plants a deep kiss to your glossy lips. He holds you steady when your knees weaken, your belly flipping at the intensity that he pours into you.

Jungkook is all around you, encasing you within his arms and there’s not a single place you’d rather be. When you pull away for air, you thumb away your gloss on his bottom lip and bite his bottom lip gently.

“I adore you,” You say dreamily, “You are so… Everything. Everything. I adore you.”

Jungkook’s cheeks burn, but he ducks his head for another sharp kiss. And if Yunho is watching him shove his tongue down your throat and holding your hips to his possessively then that’s fine by him.

The journey back home is a quick one (after you both stop for fried noodles, despite the inevitable heartburn it’ll give you both the next day but you’re both so hungry). You both stumble into your home in a mess of giggles and groping, nearly falling to the floor due to your clumsiness.

Jungkook has been hard since he kissed you in the club, in front of Yunho. He knew Yunho had been watching, feeling the man’s eyes on you both the entire time. His jealousy has crawled back into the box that it was unleashed from, but he knows that’s something to revisit later.

Something else to revisit is that he liked that someone else was watching him with you. He stores that information for later, instead focusing on keeping you upright from falling.

Somehow, through your blurry vision and wobbly legs, you get on your knees and palm Jungkook’s cock through his pants. A shameless moan rips through you- any and every inch of him makes you dizzy with desire.

You like him so much that it nearly makes you cry.

“Gonna blow you now,” You announce happily, fumbling with the button of his jeans and using all of your concentration and strength to pull his pants down along with his boxers. You sloppily kiss your way down his chest, spending extra time on his tattoo and licking (then biting) his happy trail before humming around his leaking cock.

He’s so wet already, and it’s all because of you.

Jungkook groans, eyes closing in pleasure as your pretty mouth wraps around his cock. He thrusts lightly into your mouth, peeling his eyes open to watch you. Only to find you already staring up at him, your makeup smudged and tears already forming in your pretty eyes. He cradles your cheek affectionately, stroking your cheekbone-

But before he can compliment you, softly praise you, he hears a noise. It originates from the back of your throat, something both familiar and unfamiliar. You gag uncontrollably around his cock, and while it’s certainly not the first time it’s happened, it’s different this time. Because you’re a little drunk. So he should be unsurprised when you retch on his cock, pull yourself off of him before your drunk self can get any more vomit on his cock and sprint into your bathroom.

You manage to lock the door in your frenzy of utter humiliation and alcohol addled mind. You hover over the toilet bowl, the sounds of you throwing up bouncing off of the walls. You’re crying, sobbing more like it- from both the pain in your chest from vomiting violently into the toilet bowl coupled with the humiliation of quite literally throwing up on your boyfriend’s cock.

You groan and squeeze your eyes shut, as if that’ll erase the memory.

“Baby,” Jungkook calls softly, his cock fully hanging out in the open, “Baby, please open the door. It’s not a big deal, but I need to wash my dick off.”

You let out a choked, watery laugh at that and move to flush the toilet and rinse your mouth out. Your cheeks burn in embarrassment when you unlock your bathroom door, and you can’t bear to look Jungkook in the eye. But he holds your wrist to his when you try to escape into the safety of your bedroom.

Your heart feels like it’s going to beat right out of your chest, heat flooding your ears in shame. It feels like your head is empty, static filling up the spaces that the silence between you both doesn’t.

“It’s just me,” Jungkook coos, “Do you want to shower with me?”

“Jungkook, ‘m absolutely mortified,” You say flatly, voice a little high in pitch as fresh tears burning behind your eyelids, “I want to evaporate from this plane of existence in about three-point-four seconds, I literally threw up on your penis, I’m so sorry. Don’t even look at me-”

Jungkook winces at your tone and the way your shoulders are hunched, hands gripping the hem of your dress unsurely.

“Baby,” Jungkook sighs, “It’s really okay, there’s nothing to apologize for. Come shower. The vomit is drying on my dick-”

But that’s the wrong thing to say because you start to cry immediately, shoving your face in your hands. Jungkook sighs, mentally kicking himself and running a hand through his purple locks. He calls your name softly and pulls you into his arms for a tight hug, despite the drying vomit on his dick, which is hanging out and brushes against your hip. You sniffle, peeking at him with shy eyes and he rubs your back soothingly.

“When I say it’s okay, I mean it,” Jungkook murmurs into your hair, “I’m sorry I didn’t realize how drunk you were. I know you feel embarrassed, but it’s just me, baby.”

He kisses you, despite your protests, and helps you rinse your mouth again. You allow Jungkook to somehow maneuver you into the shower, peeling you out of your clothes. You feel grimy and sticky from the club and you’re grateful for the cool water against your skin. You stand behind Jungkook, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your face in between his shoulder blades, letting him wash himself.

“Can I wash you?” You whisper, voice unsure. You feel awful, cheeks burning but still. He nods and you take your body wash and lather him with it, washing his now limp dick gently and swallowing nervously.

“See? Not a big deal,” Jungkook says, coaxes you out of your nervousness, “Lemme wash you, baby.”

And so he does, taking your loofah and gently rubbing your skin. Under the cool spray of water, your nerves slip away with each giggle and kiss that he pulls and plants from your lips. Your eyes are still a little shy, a little slick with alcohol. But it’s just Jungkook, and you’re safe with him.

Jungkook nearly wrestles you to get you to eat something more, after throwing up the remainder of your guts after you both had showered (it was mainly just water and alcohol at this point). You’re nearly falling asleep on his shoulder but he manages to shake you awake for a slice of leftover noodles and two glasses of water. But eventually, he coaxes you into eating with a few kisses, hugs, and shoulder rubs.

Once you both are in bed, Jungkook wraps himself around you, his hands immediately drifting below your sleep shirt to your belly. Your cheeks burn as the events of the night replay in your mind’s eye and you press your face into your pillow with a groan.

“I can’t believe I threw up on your dick a-and you’re so nice a-about it,” You mumble, “You really are everything.”

“Well, what else am I going to do if the girl I like vomits on my dick,” Jungkook murmurs, “Don’t worry about it, baby. It happens.”

“To who? Only to me,” You say sadly, “I drank too much. I’m sorry, Kook-”

“Shhh,” Jungkook says, tightening his arms around you and kissing your forehead, “I promise it’s okay. I promise I’m not looking at you any differently.”

His words make you relax in his hold and you nod. Jungkook tilts your jaw towards him, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You don’t say anything else after that, only allowing your soft, breathy sighs to spill out of your lips and into him with every comforting kiss and every slip of his tongue in your mouth.

He tells you to rest in between kisses, but your eyes are already closed.

**************************************

MOM TAGS: @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria @kaepjjangiya @drumsofheaven @ppeachyttae @tae-bebe @yiyi4657 @mygscafe @beeeetsandskzreads @maichiverse @hordanhearsawhooo @anonymous2505 @dreadity @mysugarkoo @ultraanonymousey @moonchild1 @fan-ati--c @yeotan07

TAGS: @kookdbean @codeinebelle

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook fluff

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issaxcharlie · 4 years ago

Text

Owen hosts Couple tag

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Artist Fem Reader

Summary: We play pretend world guys✨ (I missed them, I’m SoRryyyy.) So, Charlie wants some reassurance after starting to prepare his proposal to Y/N and makes this “genius” plan with Owen to find her answers without being suspicious. (She totally knows tho) also a lot of friendship fighting between Owen and Y/N because I had to, I made myself laugh a lot so I’ll hope at least makes you smile🤧🤣Anyways, have fun!

This is also my weird and nonsense way of doing sweet @marvel-ousnesss request of the we play pretend couple to do a couple buzzfeed quiz 💖

The blonde takes a deep breath before picking up his phone and heading to the living room, where his couple of friends and roommates are on the couch. Charlie is lying down watching television and Y/N is lying on top of him with her face snuggled into his neck, he hugging her around the waist while gently running his fingers down her skin.

The plan was simple, to help Charlie plan the perfect proposal and give him an idea of what she expects from her wedding, they were doing a “Couple tag” video. That way the questions wouldn’t be as suspicious. Of course, there are easier ways but we are talking about Charlie. They convinced Kenny to call her and tell her that it was to promote the second season that is currently being filmed, and she agreed.

Charlie mentioned many times that someone else had to ask her the questions because she reads her boyfriend like an open book, so his improvisation had to be perfect to keep his best friend’s clever girlfriend out of the hook.

He decided to start the live from his room so as not to give the singer the opportunity to think much about it, so he sits in the living room and focuses the image on his friends who are not affected in the least by their positions. After all, everyone already knows that they are a couple and that they live together.

“Hello, I’m Y/N Y/L! And yes, that sexy, beautiful, adorable and talented man is my boyfriend, Charlie Gillespie.” He blushes as the memory of their first night back as a couple invades the mind of the Canadian, who had his girlfriend in exactly this position when she was, as she said, 'practicing' her introduction. Sadly, this time it will not end like that night because his best friend and about 500,000 people are watching.

“Welcome to my first edition of the Couple tag everyone! Here's my first guest couple, I know it’s not much, but I promise to find someone worthwhile next time, this is just for practice." Charlie laughs but looks nervous. Instead, his girlfriend sits down and rolls her eyes.

"I can't believe you chose him over a puppy or a hamster." The girl says to her boyfriend while laughing at her friend's offended reaction.

“I'm going to write that down in my long enemies list, but for now I have a live to lead. Okay guys, so basically I will ask them questions and I will also choose who answers them because I’m the only one hot enough to call the shots here."

She laughs and sticks out her tongue. Charlie sits down too and she takes his hand to fiddle with it. She keeps arguing for a few minutes with Owen but shows no signs of not wanting to play the game so he starts before she regrets it.

“Okay, first one is for Charlie. How did you guys met? This is actually a good one because a lot of the fans think you met on set and are like this really intense couple who started to date the very first week without even knowing each other’s last names.”

They both start laughing at the comment. The truth is that they have seen multiple posts and comments online from people judging their relationship and how fast they were going, especially when they did that last interview together and Y/N said that Charlie was taking his sweet time to ask for marriage, since for the fans they only have one year and months of knowing each other.

“We have known each other since forever. Our moms were best friends and we were born only a few weeks apart so we've always been together. We grew up as best friends and were dating before Y/N moved to New York to play Daniela on Stardust." Charlie tries to shake off the memory of the last tearful kiss before Y/N got on the plane. Hopefully he’ll never have to part from her for so long again. Sometimes he can't even understand how he managed to get through those 5 years.

"So no, we don't know each other for just one year, but 22." She adds, kissing his nose.

"Y/N, honey. I didn't ask you, don't be rude and wait for your turn." Owen says teasingly, the girl laughs and throws a pillow at him.

“Okay, rude again. Y/N, What is the first thing that he ever gave you?”

“Oh my, this beautiful valentines card! We were like eight I think. The paper is red, and it is filled with gold and silver glitter stars. Inside is a big star that has written in the middle, “My bright star, happy valentine’s day. I love you. And a lot of doodles of my favorite things, like my guitar, a microphone, chocolate, and a little Charlie. Just adorable, I still have it and to date it is one of my favorite gifts.”

The emotion with which she responds makes Charlie's heart melt. That was the first time he called her bright star, and he kept saying it to her during every audition, every performance, every practice. The exact reason not even she knows, but maybe one of these days he'll tell her.

“Rude and a liar. The 22-year-old Charlie's handwriting is horrible, the 8-year-old Charlie handwriting could only be close to a squiggle, nothing more. Oh, and probably only you had the ability to read it. I very much doubt that was beautiful."

She opens her mouth in surprise and wrinkles her nose, feigning annoyance. “I liked you more when you had a crush on me. You were nicer.”

Owen's eyes widen and he turns to see Charlie looking for help but he just starts laughing. “Wh- What are you talking about, mean girl?”

“Oh c’mon, you totally did, Ohio.” She smiles at the camara while showing a superiority face.

“Really? I already told you a thousand times, I'm from Oklahoma. But hey, how funny, forget about Stardust and audition for Funny Girl!”

“Jokes on you, I would nail Fanny Brice.”

“Man, defend my honor!”

“Bro, I can’t. You totally did, I even got worried for a second there.” It is incredible to think about how their friendship has grown and matured over time. They went from Owen fangirling every time he saw her to being really good friends. All these fights are more of a show than anything else, the truth is that when nobody is recording they tend to be very cool around each other and the three of them have quite a pleasant dynamic now that they are living together for the show.

“I won, Idaho. Now, please continue.”

“Well, my friends embarrassed me on my own live. I can already imagine the headlines tomorrow. Anyways, Charlie, Would you let yourself in danger to save her?”

Charlie starts laughing as he drops his head on the girl's shoulder. "I think she's not going to let me lie, I always have and will continue to do so. For me it's always her safety first."

"Which has given me more than a scare but he's so freakin stubborn." She adds while looking stressed and Owen can't help but imagine all the situations Charlie must have put himself in before.

“I prefer you scared than in danger, beautiful.” He grins and kiss her lips, her facial expresions relaxing at his touch.

“Gross. Y/N, do you prefer a small wedding or a big wedding?” She can feel Charlie tense at the question, so she leans her body back to support it against him and give him a lowkey reassurance.

“I hadn't really thought about it, but I know that my almost mother-in-law has been planning it all her life so you should check with her.”

His mom. Y/N is right, as always. His mom is their biggest shipper and the wedding is probably something she’ll want to be an importart part of, maybe way more than with his brothers since she adores the girl as much as her own kids, and the fact that his girlfriend is even more aware of that fact than him makes him smile.

“Do you love it when someone refers you as ‘her boyfriend’?”

“Always. Especially if it's her. She has that little knack of saying it whenever she can and it’s the most adorable thing in the world.”

“Oh I thought she was just showing it off to me because she was intimidated by our chemistry. I don't feel so special anymore.” Charlie chuckles and sends a secret air kiss to his friend, who just smirks and fakes to blush.

“How would you handle it if you thought another man was hitting on her?” Owen asks the guitarist raising an eyebrow.

“She usually takes care of that situations, her method is to take me by the shirt and kiss me hard on the lips. I’m never going to complain about that.” Charlie says smirking and blushing.

“We are a celebrity couple, for better or for worse. I’m not having him in a fight when I can just kiss that beautiful lips and solve the problem.” Charlie smiles as he wraps his girlfriend in his arms, so she can't see his face with the next question.

“What do you dream of your marriage? Mmm, let’s go with Y/N.”

“Anything will be perfect if I spend it with the man of my life. My Char is my everything and my biggest dream is to live my whole life laughing by his side.” Owen pretends to vomit as Charlie fills her with kisses under the ear, clearly moved by her answer.

“Let’s get to someting less cheesy because I really can’t with you both anymore. Has anyone ever tried to break your relationship?”

Charlie rolls his eyes and thinks for a moment. “Yes. We were like seventeen, and this guy from hockey had this big crush on her, so he tried to flirt with her many times even though everyone knew she was my girlfriend, until one day that he made her too uncomfortable and things escalated between him and me. Luckily my brothers intervened before something else happened because he was much bigger than me. I would have totally lost.” He chuckles while his girlfriend turns to see his face and gives him another sweet kiss on the corner of his lips.

“Yes guys, they are this annoying all the time. How do I survive? A lot of yoga. Next question, If three guys are standing, and you have been blindfolded, then how would you recognize him? Guys we actually did this like three days ago on set.”

“It was awesome! We put my bandana on her eyes and since it had my smell she couldn't be guided by that to choose.” Charlie explains excited.

“We got the three of us, first Jeremy then Charlie and then me in front of her, then she began to lightly touch Jer's hand. Then she went to Charlie's, it didn't take her a minute to recognize him and she took him from the hair and draw him to her lips, it was actually a pretty smooth and risky move, I’ll give you a point for that, prodigy brat.”

“Char's body inadvertently reacts to mine. It was pretty easy to tell the difference, especially after touching Jeremy's hand.” She turns her head to give Charlie a soft kiss on the lips and then Owen starts laughing like crazy and telling her to come see a specific comment.

She gets up and goes to sit next to him, Owen changes the camera so that now they are the ones in the image and she begins to read aloud. “Charlie I could give you my... Oh my god!” Owen continues laughing, resting his head on his friend who simply watches the screen in shock.

“Thank god Charlie doesn’t know how to read.” Owen, who was just recovering from his giggling fit, laughs again as Charlie giggles and sticks his tongue out at his girlfriend.

"Who needs to read when you look this hot with sleeveless shirts." He jokes while winking at his partner, which seems to melt in front of the camera that is still pointing directly at her.

“The man has a point. Okay, Y/N move your ass back there I’m still in charge of this show. Would you prefer a silver or gold ring?”

She makes sure to move off the screen and sticks her middlefinger at Owen before heading back to her place with her boyfriend. “Good and really random question.” She smirks, not making contact with her boyfriend. “I don't have a preference, but I would love Char to design it. Obviously with the correct guidance, but yeah he choosing every detail and then explaining to me why he choose it would be the dream.”

Charlie smiles. He was already imagining something like this after so many years of gifting and has already been visiting the jewelry store several times to make sure he designed the perfect ring for his girl, a slight feeling of pride filling him.

“Which series does she thinks resembles your relationship?”

“She loves Boy Meets World and see a lot of us in Cory and Topanga. I can totally see it too, after all they too have known each other their whole lives and have a bond as strong as ours.”

“Well that explains why she’s always telling me ‘Life is though, get a helmet’ instead of actually help me.” She grins at the memory of Charlie’s last prank on Owen a couple of days ago, it was really good since she secretly helped him plan it.

“Man, It wasn’t personal. I do the same with Char. I’m not going to be known for being the one ruining prank war. Take it to the end of the road, if you need me to take you idiots out of jail I totally will... eventually.”

“My girl, everyone. Isn’t she awesome?” He watches her adoringly and she blushes in response, buring her head on his neck.

“She always has this enormous energy and personality but all it takes is for you to see her for her to melt, that’s... kind of cute actually. Okay next question Stardust, What about If Charlie tells you to marry him tomorrow?”

For the thousandth time that night Y/N can feel Charlie stressing out. The fact that he planned together with Owen and Kenny all of this just to make sure he was on the same page with her is the most adorable thing in the world.

“I’m pretty sure he knows I would always say yes. He could have gotten on a plane when we were 18 and told me ‘I don't want to be without you, let's get married.’ And I would have said yes. He’s my person, I have nothing to think about, I have always known it’s him."

Now it's Charlie's turn to melt, and Owen himself can't help but smile.

Charlie's confidence in what he has planned is higher than ever, and the day when he can finally make it official is near. He has been dreaming of this day with his Y/N for years and he will finally get it.

“Well guys, that was it, give it up to my favorite couple of dumbasses and please stop asking obvious questions. Will I be Y/N’s maid of honor? Of course I will. Oh, and tune in next week to see me becoming Kenny’s new favorite after I challenge Y/N in a dance duel with I got the music. Golden star is GOING DOWN."

Thank you for reading✨

NEXT PART HERE

Taglist: @writerinlearning, @ghostofmgg @strangerthanfanfiction713, @thebloodthirstyvampress @kinda-really-lost, @kcd15, @magnet-girl, @aliandthephantoms, @stxrkspidey, @pinkrockstar19, @s0uz4s, @shycupcakealissa @cookiebuba, @fangirlangioma, @sageellsworth05, @twist3dtinkerbell, @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve, @caitsymichelle13 , @ifilwtmfc, @luckylouiebug, @bibliophilewednesday, @totomoshi, @siennanoelle01, @lunashadow6955, @bookfrog247, @morganayennefertyrell, @kiss-themoongoodbye, @rachelle3musicals, @imsydneywalker, @really-dont-forget-it @agentstarkid @talksoprettyjjx @kaitieskidmore1 @lukeys-giggle @katie-navarro @crybabyddl @cocopuffs0211 @marvel-ousnesss @blackhood5sos @dpaccione @tuttigunner

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a-shakespearean-in-paris · 4 years ago

Text

I was in a toxic friendship

I want to preface this by saying I am so much happier right now and I am no longer friends with this person. Haven’t seen or heard from her in over a year. I also want to be clear this was a friendship I had in real life, not tumblr. I think however this story’s lessons can be applicable across the board to online friendships and even relationships with family members. Please, if you ever feel belittled by your “friends,” and you bring it up to them and they brush it aside and think you’re overreacting, it’s not a friendship.

I was friends with this person, let’s call her Stacy, for about ten years before I realized I no longer wanted to speak to her or be her friend. I met her in the ninth grade and we bonded over Disney World and other things and I could talk to her about anything, including this huge crush I had on a twelfth grade boy. She came over to my house sometimes, though not a lot, and as high school wore on we started going to the mall together, stuff like that. I went to college in a different city and she came to visit me sometimes, and we even worked at the same theme park, though different departments. For all intents and purposes this was my best friend, though Stacey got upset when I also called my cousin my best friend, even though she spoke of her sister as her best friend.

She got a boyfriend when we were both around 21/22 or so, I think we were both juniors in college, though she took a semester off because she hated school and thought it was weird I was a double major. She told me her boyfriend was thirty and she met him at work. I thought the age gap was a little big, but I wasn’t one to judge. Later on I found out he was 36 and she told me she lied because she was worried how I would react. I met him and I thought he was nice, but when she got engaged when we were both around 23, I had only met him that one time for a birthday dinner she had, and my mom and dad told me they thought it was kind of strange. They also said it was weird to them whenever I hung out with Stacey it was only for like an hour, two at most, especially since my cousin and I could spend days and day together at sleepovers, chilling and being ourselves, interpretative dancing, lol. Privately I also found it odd I could talk to Stacey about anything, but when I asked questions about her life and her thoughts she’d barely talk. Her grandma passed away, she loved visiting my grandma because she could have one through me. One day I broke down and admitted my grandmother is a narcissist, and she is different behind closed doors. she berates me, used to call me fat, berated me. Stacey didn’t believe me. I can’t say when she started not being such a good presence in my life, but these were some seeds, and it got worse--slow at once and then all at once as they say.

Anyway, I was a bridesmaid of hers and her sister was the maid of honor--a mutual friend was another bridesmaid and there was one more (super sweet girl and I don’t even think Stacy talks with her much anymore either LMAO) and at this point in my life I was really into my first fanfic IWD. I was consumed with it, to put it bluntly. This is another story entirely but I spent so much of my college career as an English major writing for academia, and when I was finally writing something for me, I bloomed. I talked to her about it and she kind of laughed about this Cullen person but she liked to read fanfic herself so was whatever about me doing it. I shared with her my first piece of commissioned art and she laughed at Lydia thinking Lydia was just me, and I told her, no, she wasn’t, she’s based off of several old hollywood ladies and I actually made her avatar in game, but she wouldn’t believe it. I actually ended up saying “would you think this if I were white and she were white as well” and she laughed and didn’t understand. Needless to say the whole incident rubbed me the wrong way. I ignored it. Her wedding happened, her sister made a good speech, then when all the groomsmen did a speech for the groom the other Bridesmaids and I thought we had to do something, so we got up there and made an impromptu speech. I called her my sister and I told her I loved her. I didn’t know it then, but I didn’t believe her when she said “love you too.”

I wanted to go back to school, and I ended up in a Masters program after the wedding. My summer semester, my first, went well, starting in June and ending in July. I finished IWD and went to another fic, Stacey making fun of Sophie, my OC for that fic too, because I just straight up made her part Hawaiian like I am. When I told her I had little representation growing up other than like Lilo and Stitch and now Moana, (which I don’t like TBH but another story lol.) she asked me what the big deal was about that. Why did it matter that no main character ever looked as I looked? I couldn’t explain to her how much writing a character who was like me in a fanfic mattered. We planned on going to Disney World, me, her, her sister, and the other bridesmaid, but don’t post anything on facebook because she didn’t want to invite the other other bridesmaid. I wanted to go to a nightclub with her for my birthday but she didn’t want to go because her sister couldn’t enter, so after my whole family, plus her and her husband ate at my favorite restaurant, she went home even after I begged her to come with my and my cousin. She said it was stupid. Also, her husband was a huge ass to wait staff. Alarm bells went off for all of us.

But I was looking forward to Disney in December that year. (2018) I didn’t have a job at the time but was actively looking. Well, I got a job after interview after interview at restaurants that wouldn’t hire me, my dream job researching Shakespeare. It fell through. (I was promised to actively help the professor research, it fell through.) She paid for the trip without me knowing and I had to pay her back 800 dollars on writing commissions which I severely underpriced. because I was worried no one would pay otherwise. School wasn’t going well. Put it simply I felt really dumb and stupid and like I didn’t belong, (we were reading Ulysses!!!) which I later learned was a common sentiment with my classmates who began the same time as I. I will admit my relationship with academia is rocky at the moment, but I genuinely do love to write, love to research, love to make discoveries about new texts. Stacey saw how stressed I was and sad and got angry I was so sad, and asked why was I in school anyway Am I going to be on my deathbed and wished I studied harder? I didn’t have the energy to tell her it wasn’t about “studying harder,” it was that I loved writing and reading and wanted to be a part of academia. Learning makes me happy, expanding my mind. She belittled me anyway, thinking getting a Masters was dumb and I wouldn’t get a good job.

At Disney World I was so happy. I hadn’t been there since I was a child. She made fun of me for wanting to meet Ariel, for wanting to ride Soaring and being afraid to check grades when a classmate said they were up. I got so stressed I cried at the Japan pavilion at Epcot and stress ate sauerbraten at the Germany pavilion (Amazing by the way, I love German food.) She basically dictated the entire trip--we went to Universal for Harry Potter World at her request and refused to ride the spider man ride with me (it was fucking fun too-girl missed out.) All she wanted to do was stand around in Harry Potter world all day, (LOL now right?) I wasn’t that big of a Potter fan anymore, even at that point, and she told me I was going to stay there anyway and like it. She dictated the entire trip and when I questioned her about it she said I wasn’t listening to to her--we were following the agenda. Our last day there we went to a “Hawaiian” restaurant and made a comment about my “Hawaiian privileges.” I just didn’t have the heart to tell her that the crap we ate didn’t hold a candle to real Hawaiian luau food.

When we got back I was mentally drained and melancholic because I wondered why Stacey was so cruel to me. She always had a biting wit, but before it seemed playful. Now it was cruel, mocking. She made me feel so incredibly stupid. At this point my cousin got engaged and I cried because I wanted so badly to be in love with someone and get married. I was angry and I lashed out at people I shouldn’t have. I was later diagnosed as depressed. I felt like my life was at a standstill and matters with Stacey didn’t help. I also had a huge writing crisis--I told Stacey something I will always remember and always regret because she doesn’t deserve to know: I write the romances I want because no man wants me. At this point, Stacy turned me into her project. She didn’t like how sad I was at Disney World, it put a bummer on her trip, and when I told her she seemed off she brushed it off. Her plan was to get me on dating apps and basically settle for anyone, even though I had used apps before and don’t like them, but when I got back on Bumble she basically patronized me and told me she was proud of me and “small steps.” On bumble, I wanted to vomit. (for the record, I am not against dating apps, I know success stories, but at that time I was not emotionally ready to date.) Also, she would teach me to drive so I could go on dates, but only in my Dad’s truck.

I wish I could say I broke it off, that I told her not to talk to me again, but Stacey stopped talking to me first. However. the day she stopped was when I told her she was wrong and I wouldn’t listen to this anymore. What happened? I mentioned I was demisexual. She said it wasn’t real. I said it was real to me--I don’t experience sexual attraction unless I have bonded with someone. Sure there are people I like to look at, but it’s not a sexual attraction. She asked about my crush on Tom Hiddleston, Cullen, “that robot guy” and was like yeah you’re sure demi, and lol it’s not real. It wasn’t just her words, it was the mocking indifference.

I went off. I told her she didn’t have the right to tell me what was in my brain or how I felt. I knew who I was and who I am. I should have also told her I wasn’t her project, but I left her that day and it was the last time I saw her.

I talked to my dad that night and mentioned it to him, being demi, and you know what he told me? I think I’m the same way. I think I almost cried.

I tried to talk to her again but she didn’t want to see me. She had “personal issues and was busy” I pissed her off. Good, I say now. But after this happened in March of 2019 I thought I had no friends. She was my only friend, and I lost another mutual friend (one we went to Disney with) because she knew Stacey longer than she knew me. But you know what happened in April? My cousin asked me to be her maid of honor and I fucking wept, because there was my best friend--my sister all along. Just because she lives in another city and we are growing up and it took me longer to figure out my career than her doesn’t change the fact that we have a bond that can’t be broken. My cousin is one of my favorite people and if you know her you love her--it is impossible not to. And when I told her about my fanfic and about being demi she wanted to know, wanted to listen. School got better too--I started chatting in class more and come to find out, one of my classmates also broke up with a toxic friend. God I love her and I miss her--wish I could see her. (thanks COVID)

There was more, but this was a lot, and I spent more time writing this than I thought I would. I wanted to write it because seeing a few posts float around made me remember, and I want ya’ll to know, leaving a friendship is scary. Sometimes it can be worse than leaving a lover. But it is a brave thing to do. Part of me that knew I should have left at the first racist comment (oh yeah, she called me a pineapple one day before the Disney trip, did I mention it’s a slur for Hawaiian people? If my grandma were there she would have clobbed her.) but I stayed because I didn’t think I had any other friends. Well, I did and I do, and I know now friends lift each other up, not belittle or talk behind your back. They listen to me when I talk about how important my writing and my characters are to me.

Sometimes I still miss her--but mostly the high school her that I knew before she met her husband. I don’t know if he changed her or this was her all along, perhaps both. I got fired from a job in November 2019 (which now I’d like to thank them because I got a better and more fulfilling job with a boss that respects me.) and when I cried outside the place, humiliated, I wanted to call her and vent like I used to. I didn’t. Now I don’t want to call her anymore or talk to her. I’d rather spend time with people who care, people who don’t kick me when I’m down. Since then I am so much stronger, in so many ways. The worst times in my life yielded the greatest lessons I have ever learned.

If you made it this far, thank you. I did tear up a little writing this, but please know: it can be hard to walk a new path, but it is brave. You are brave. You don’t deserve to be belittled *hugs*

#personal #toxic friend #ok to reblog #tw: depression #tw: racism #yep she was that bad and I was blind for a long time

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dilfhanni · 5 years ago

Text

Your pregnancy is... interesting to say the least.

“I’ll see you next week, Jane.” You smiled at the older teen as she left your office before sighing and leaning back in the armchair. You didn’t have the energy to get up and walk over to your desk, a wave of nausea coming over you yet again. You swallowed hard and closed your eyes, putting your hands on your stomach and trying to will the nausea away.

It was only 11 am and usually any morning sickness would have been gone by now. You were thankful for the fact that you had no other patients to see until 1 this afternoon because you didn’t really think you could sit through an hour-long session without vomiting. That wasn’t really a good look for a psychiatrist. You heard your door open and you opened your eyes, seeing House come in with what looked like two cups of coffee. But you knew better, one of them was tea for you.

You had already complained to him this morning that you felt like you were going to leave a trail of vomit behind you all day, but you didn’t think he would actually come to your office to take care of you. You figured Wilson told him to come check on you as opposed to him taking time out of yelling at the team to run more tests and stop being morons. Or maybe that was why he came down; he was avoiding something.

“Did Wilson bribe you to come here? Or is your patient in need of a psych consult?” You took the tea from him and hesitantly took a sip, fighting the urge to gag. He watched your face closely as he sat down across from you on the couch, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“I can’t come and take care of you without it being about something else?” He leaned back on the couch and took a sip of his coffee before placing his feet on the coffee table between you two. You rolled your eyes and sat the tea down on the table, not wanting to upset your stomach even more. Your action seemed to catch his attention – as every little thing did – and his eyebrows scrunched together a bit.

“Are you still nauseous?” You nodded and groaned, leaning your head back and closing your eyes. You just wanted to get past the worst of everything to get to the good things. But there were no good things, you just kept eating and vomiting and getting a terrible headache every day.

“Yes, and I feel like shit. But I have patients today, so I can’t just go home.” You opened your eyes and looked at him, biting down on your bottom lip before speaking again. “Unless, someone wanted to tell Cuddy they were concerned about my wellbeing for today and suggested that I go home. Or insist, if they want to.”

“You want me to go tell mommy that you’re sick and you need to stay home from school today?” His voice was a bit mocking and you poked your bottom lip out in a pout, forcing yourself to get up and sit next to him on the couch. You leaned closer and placed a soft trail of kisses to his neck, the nausea having passed. You couldn’t help but to put your hands on him, he was too close for you not to.

“Please? And maybe you can come home too, leave the minions to do everything for you. I’ll repay you for your kindness.” You looked up towards his face and made eye contact, licking over your lips as you raised your eyebrows slightly. House turned a bit to face you, setting his coffee on the table as his lips began to pull into a smirk.

“Are you suggesting we ditch work to go home and have sex? Because, believe me, I’m all for it. But I have a feeling you’re going to go back to wanting to vomit any minute now.” He reached forward and cupped your cheek, pressing his lips to yours for a short moment. You sighed a bit as he pulled his face away, your face scrunching up in annoyance.

“Fine. I’ll just tell Cuddy myself and deal with her million questions.” You sat up and gave him a serious yet concerned look, your hands grabbing both of his as you began to imitate her; very spot on you might add.

“Oh, (Y/N), are you sure you’re not taking on too much work? It can’t be good for the baby to be so stressed out! And what about House? Is he taking care of you?” You gasped slightly and placed one of your hands on your chest, feigning worry. “Is it only nausea or are there other symptoms? Let me run some tests! Oh, you poor thing, I can’t imagine how much you’re suffering what with House andthe pregnancy!” You couldn’t help the smile that came on to your lips as he let out a laugh, his smile mirroring your own.

“You think she’ll be any nicer to me? She thinks I’m making you birth the spawn of Satan.” He took in a slightly deep breath before biting down on his bottom lip a bit. You felt sadness when his smile faded, remembering how everyone reacted when you told them you were keeping the baby. It took a week for you both to figure out what you were going to do and still it felt like it wasn’t happening.

You both sat on the couch in silence, the events of just a few days ago playing over and over in your head. You were pregnant and you didn’t know what to do. On one hand, you wanted to terminate and keep living your regular lives. You didn’t think you were ready to be a mom and you didn’t want to pressure House into staying with you because of a child. On the other hand, you were happy with this accident. You could see it playing out in your head and you could see him with your child, and you could see you two being wonderful parents. You wanted that.

You looked over to him and saw that he was already looking at you, his face full of confusion over what was going on and some sort of… happiness. It wasn’t strange for you to see him happy; it was strange that this happiness was a different kind. You took in a deep breath and prepared yourself for The Conversation.

“I… What do you want to do? And be honest with me, don’t just-“ You bit down on your bottom lip and shook your head, you knew he’d be honest with you. You didn’t want him to make you make the decision, you didn’t know if you could. You needed to know how he felt.

“When am I not brutally honest?” The usual bite to his voice wasn’t there, he was being softer with you. You didn’t know what that meant. He leaned forward to rest his forehead on his cane, closing his eyes as he seemed to think. All you two have been doing is thinking and not talking. “I don’t know what I want to do. I really didn’t think this would ever be a problem for me.”

You nodded slightly and your shoulders felt more relaxed. You didn’t expect this to be a problem either, but it is and now you have to deal with it. You brought your legs up and sat with your knees to your chest, your arms wrapped around your legs as you rested your chin on your knees.

“I don’t know if it’s hormones or what I actually want – and it’s okay if you don’t want this – but I want to keep it. I think… I think we can do this and that we’ll be good parents. Fuck what anyone else has to say, that’s how we’ve always thought, right? I don’t want what anyone else says to influence my decision now because then I won’t know if I’m making the right one.” You kept your eyes on the letters on his t-shirt.

More silence followed but you didn’t mind it, you took comfort in it this time. He sat up and looked over at you, his hands a little tight around his cane. You couldn’t make eye contact, not just yet. You didn’t know if he would want it, too; and that made you nervous.

“But, what if I’m not what you expect? I can’t make any mistakes with a kid involved. That’s… (Y/N), I can’t do that.” You saw how distressed he looked and you let go of your legs, reaching out to hold his face and make him focus only on you. Your thumbs brushed softly over the scruff on his cheeks as you shook your head a bit.

“You are the most incredible man I’ve ever known and you will be an incredible father. I don’t have any expectations from you because I don’t even know what to expect from myself, but I do know that we can do this and we won’t fuck up.” You leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, searching his eyes for any sign that he believes you when you pulled back. You weren’t lying to him; you had a hard time doing that as it was. But you knew how his mind worked and you knew he had a hard time believing things you say when they’re words that praise him.

“You really want this?” He reached up and held onto one of your hands, his eyebrows raised in question.

“Yes, I really do. Do you?”

“Yes.” You felt your eyes begin to water and you blamed it on hormones. You immediately crawled forward and pressed your lips to his, straddling his lap as your lips moved together in a careful rhythm.

After a minute or so, his hands had wandered to your waist and his fingers had slipped under your shirt. Your breathing had gotten a bit heavier and you pulled back, his lips immediately going to your neck. You ran your fingers through his hair and bit down on your bottom lip, dreading ruining the moment with what you were about to say.

“You know this means telling everyone, right? Having them involved in our – ah – personal life?” You couldn’t help but let out a surprised noise when he bit down slightly where your neck and shoulder met. He mumbled a response against your skin and you gently pulled his head back, kissing him because you couldn’t help yourself. You forced yourself to pull back once again, his hands now wandering down to the waistband of your pants. “Speak. I need to know you’re okay with people being more nosey than usual.”

He huffed a sigh and slipped his fingers into the top of your pants, trying to move things along a bit. You could already feel how hard he was and you didn’t want to spend more time than needed talking about unnecessary things.

“Yes, they’re already asking me when you’re due. I trained them to be nosey and it’ll be annoying but, if I recall, we’re grownups who can tell them to fuck off.” You smiled and nodded, his mouth already reconnecting with yours as butterflies filled your stomach.

“Our baby won’t be the spawn of Satan. They’ll be a genius with your eyes and my charming personality.” You smirked a bit and pressed your lips to his cheek before getting up from the couch, stretching your arms above your head. You could feel your shirt rise up a bit over your stomach and a smile came to your lips, remembering how you checked this morning to see if your small bump had gotten any bigger. You were now in your second trimester and you were sporting a very small but very proud bump.

“It’s okay, I don’t really wanna go home anyway. I’ve got a new patient today that seems interesting.” You walked over to your desk and grabbed their file, sitting back in the armchair and looking at House over the top of the file. He was giving you a warm smile, his eyebrows raised slightly. You lowered the file and raised your own in question. “Is there something you’d like to share with the class, Gregory?”

“You’re starting to show. A lot more than before.” He held his hands out to you and you got up, moving to stand in front of him. He grabbed you by the waist, pulling you close to him. You watched with a wide smile as he carefully placed his hands on your bump, a small smirk forming on his face. You watched as he spoke directly to your stomach, his eyes focused on yours. “You know, you give a lot of trouble for being so small.”

This was something he was starting to do as of the last two weeks and you still felt butterflies fill your stomach whenever he did. He first claimed that he was just practicing for when the baby would be able to hear in just a few short weeks, but you think he was trying to make things more real for himself. You also think he enjoyed hearing his own voice too much.

You talked to your bump in private, feeling a bit weird for talking to your own stomach. But he had caught you one day – that he wouldn’t admit, but it was obvious – and started talking to your stomach as well. It now was routine that before bed you would each say something to The Bump, whether it was telling the baby that everyone else was a moron or that you needed a few days of rest from the nausea and headaches.

“It’s a cute little bump, I like it. And don’t make it sound like they’re redecorating my womb and it’s not to my liking, they’re just giving me normal symptoms.” You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead, the moment interrupted by a knock on your door. You groaned slightly and pulled back from House, turning to the door expectantly. Cuddy walked in and you groaned even louder in your head. A perfect moment gone because of an interruption longer than two seconds.

“Is there something I can help you with?” You walked over to your desk, picking up your tea as you went. You started to sort through some files that you had laid out, putting away whatever you didn’t need to have a clearer space and deciding to sit down to get comfortable.

“Your patient said you looked like you were going to vomit all over your office. I came to see if I had something to worry about.” She looked between you and House, her eyebrow raising. “I also figured I’d find him here. He owes me clinic hours.” You looked over at House – his face giving away his annoyance and dread – and decided you needed a break from your office, so you spoke before he had the chance.

“I’ll cover his hours.” You took a sip of your tea and gave her a smile, walking towards the door to head down to the clinic. She scrunched her eyebrows together and opened her mouth like she was about to argue your decision. “I’m fine, morning sickness is gone now. Besides, if I throw up, there’s plenty of nurses to get me a trash can.” You moved past her and headed to the elevators, finding a strange sense of comfort in getting to work the clinic today. You needed it to cure your boredom and drive your focus away from anything pregnancy related.

You bit down on your lip, the cold of the room making you shiver a bit as you waited for your doctor to come in. House was looking through the equipment set up beside you and making sure everything was good enough, something to calm his nerves. But he would never say that out loud, you just happened to know him well enough to see when he was nervous.

“House, everything is gonna be fine. It’s not a big deal if you lose a bet. You did bet on the baby being a girl, though, didn’t you?” You gave him a serious look, his eyes looking up to find yours as he stopped fiddling with the ultrasound wand. He got that look, like he had figured something out, but not the same one he got when he solved a case. It was more… devious.

“Are you in on the bet, (Y/N)?” You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest, just above your bump.

“You’re a bad influence, what can I say? Yes, I’m in on the bet, if you must know. I know I’m right so I figured why not make money off of it?” He walked over and sat in the chair beside you, leaning forward onto his cane as he stared you down.

“Well, you’re gonna be losing money, sorry to break it to you this way. It’s a boy.” His eyes narrowed just a bit, a smirk forming on his lips. You narrowed your own eyes back at him and as you opened your mouth, the door opened and your doctor walked in. Followed by Wilson.

You looked up at them and raised your eyebrows, confused as to why Wilson was here. But House was not confused. He just greeted him like he told him to be there. Which means he did.

“Wilson, what are you doing here?” You watched as he pulled a chair up next to House and smiled warmly at you, gesturing to House as he spoke.

“I’m here to see if I’m right about the gender. My bet is on a girl.” You smirked at House and gave him a slight eyebrow raise as if to say, “See? I’m right.” You turned your attention back to Wilson and shook your head at him.

“No, you’re not going to be here. You can find out when everyone else finds out. And just so you know, he’s definitely going to lose. He just can’t admit it.” He held his hands up in surrender and walked out without a fight, knowing he’d lose against you anyway. You turned your attention to your doctor and smiled brightly. “I’m ready to see if I’m gonna win fifty bucks or lose them.”

You and House had everyone joined in his outer office and he was scribbling something on the whiteboard, having it turned around so no one else could see. You watched their faces fill with anticipation, part of you wondering how much of it was just them wanting to know if they were right and how much was genuine curiosity.

“House, would you please inform them how much money they either owe or have won?” You glanced at him and felt butterflies in your stomach, he gave a small nod before turning the whiteboard around. You could see Chase’s face drop into slight anger and mostly awe. Cuddy’s lips pursed for just a second before everything dawned on her and she started beaming. Thirteen, Foreman, and Wilson had their own individual victory dances and you couldn’t help but to look at House with a bright smile of your own.

“Pay the woman, she was right.” He held eye contact with you for a few moments, his eyes shining with pride and pure happiness. You could faintly hear Taub telling the others that he was glad he didn’t get in on the bet because he would’ve lost.

You were having a girl and it wasn’t like it mattered at all to you, but now everything felt so much more real. You were halfway through your pregnancy and now you could spend as much time as you wanted nagging House for which baby names he liked. You could see him holding her and teaching her the concept of sarcasm and him being protective over her. You could see nights spent with the three of you on the couch at every stage of her life and you could see him trying to calm you down when you got overly worried about her.

Everything was very real now, much more than before.

Cuddy was the first to pull you into a hug and break your concentration, your arms automatically wrapping around her shoulders. You remembered her first concerns about this pregnancy and now she was one of the people defending your choice to the hospital staff. She had seen you glow and had seen how much closer it brought you and House together. She had seen how it seemed to change him in ways she never expected, and she was happy for you two, no longer worried that you were making the wrong call.

“I’m happy for you, I’m sorry for having my doubts.” She had spoken low enough that only you could hear and you shook your head slightly, pulling back to look at her.

“It’s okay, it’s natural for everyone to doubt anything human coming from House. But I hope you know, he’s already the best father. We’ve got this.” You could see Thirteen stepping over to you to hug you, the embrace welcomed now because – apparently – hormones made you a much more affectionate person. Or the whole change of having a baby made you see the world differently, there was really no way to tell.

“Just so you know, Remy is a really good name for a girl.” You laughed and bit down on your lip for a moment. She had been the one to help House on days where everything felt too much for him, but he didn’t want to turn to you or Wilson. She had been the one to assure him that he’d be a good father; that it wasn’t just you saying it out of love. She had been the one – besides you or Wilson – that has been closest to him throughout your whole pregnancy and for that you were thankful. You didn’t know what things would be like if he didn’t listen to her at times of self-doubt and whenever he needed someone he respected to be blunt with him.

Chase and Cuddy were handing cash to House and you saw him put his own money into the mix, tucking it in his shirt pocket. You knew you’d get the money later, but it wasn’t important to you. What was interesting was how everyone who had won gave him money as well; it was more so confusing. This whole bet was confusing you now because you didn’t know who was supposed to end up with the money.

“Why are you guys paying him? You won. And the loser’s money doesn’t go to him, either, it goes to the winners.” Your eyebrows were scrunched up in confusion, your hand absentmindedly coming to rest on your bump.

“House said we’re not allowed to have a baby shower, so this is the next best thing. All the money from the bet goes to you guys for the baby.” Wilson was the one to explain it and you felt your heart clench a bit, suddenly feeling way too emotional over a bet. You didn’t know they were doing this and being blindsided only made your extreme happiness and gratitude overwhelming you as tears filled your eyes.

“Fuck.” You raised your free hand to your face, wiping a stray tear. You then glared at House with no real annoyance or malice behind it. “You couldn’t have warned me so I didn’t cry in front of everyone?” Your breath hitched slightly and you shook your head, tilting your head back to look up at the ceiling. You never cried in front of people. You barely cried in front of House until these past few months. You suddenly felt his hand on your lower back, concern lacing his voice as he spoke low near your ear. Only for you to hear his kindness and concern.

“It’s okay, they’re aware of what pregnancy does to women.” That was his way of telling you that you shouldn’t be frustrated or embarrassed about crying in front of them, so you nodded slightly. You sniffled and wiped your cheeks, looking to everyone in the room.

“Thank you. I appreciate it more than I can say.” You saw their smiles and felt better about everything, knowing that they could see emotions from you and accept it. You felt safe knowing your baby was going to be welcomed into a world with all of these people there to support her and teach her invaluable lessons in life. Everything was going to be okay.

#house md #house md imagine #house md imagines #gregory house #gregory house x reader #gregory house imagine #hugh laurie #avenue-cherry

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angstew · 4 years ago

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How to have a baby during COVID-19 pt 2-The roller coaster of pregnancy

And so it began. The roller coaster of pregnancy. The first & only pregnancy I’ve experienced. In the middle of a pandemic. While barely sober enough to be done detox. What a combo. But I was determined to break the stereotype. I would not endanger my unborn child, I would not resort to my selfish & reckless ways. I would do something different. And then reality hit, and I felt the whole emotional rainbow at once, and then felt guilty for some of the ways I felt, shameful, like I didn’t deserve to have a child with the thoughts I was having. In case you’re not familiar with addiction & recovery, there is no cure. I know it’s a controversial subject(my favorite kind) but in my experiences it is NOT a choice, it is NOT curable, and the biggest argument starter it seems, I was born this way. Example, when I was younger & I discovered skinny jeans, I bought every different color of the same pair....when I found a song or a band I liked, that’s all I listened too until my mom finally had enough. You get the idea. Anyway, so that being said, some of the thoughts that swirled around my head in the early stages of the pregnancy included “just do one” “noone would know” “the baby will be fine just once” “I wont be a good mom anyway so why not just do what everyone expects” I am proud to say, that I did not use during my pregnancy, and still haven’t to this day but I do not judge women that do, it’s heartbreaking how sad but real that struggle is. And I was so embarrassed to share those thoughts, because I felt like I shouldn’t be having them. More about that later...

Okay, so now I’m pregnant, my fiance & I live in a recovery house, we were both just laid off of work, and I mean within 1.5 months of finding out, we were both jobless, and I was absolutely petrified. This may be TMI, but I have always been afraid of the dentist & the OBGYN, so getting poked, prodded, and having a human being come out of there mortified me. So, I did what anyone in this society does-google. I downloaded every single pregnancy app, I googled every single movement, feeling, question & thought I could think of. I was determined to be good to this baby, to undo all the wrong I had done through my life. My fiance turned into the baby whisperer, talking to my stomach before this baby was even the size of a kidney bean. It was beautiful. Thank GOD for the PUA money, because without that we probably would’ve had this baby in a recovery house....just kidding, but seriously we would’ve been living with family & not able to bond as a little unit. While I was out of work though, I tried to use the time to read, learn & eat as much as possible. The first 4 months all the baby wanted was nachos, until one long awful night filled with vomit, diarrhea & lots of tears, I didn’t go near Mexican again. After that, it was hot wings. I started eating mayo on sandwiches (which I HATED), ate eggs every morning(also wasn’t a big fan), whatever that baby wanted to eat he got, my fiance made sure of it. And I can’t forget the famous pregnancy pillows. A true must have. My fiance’s dad got me a C shaped pillow & my fiance became as obsessed with it as I was. I would fold this thing up in it’s little portable bag & drag it back & forth between my house & my fiance’s just to get some comfort...& so my fiance could get a little snuggle with it here & there. So as soon as I started getting used to being pregnant, and started to embrace all the changes, I became a house manager for 10 women, which means a glorified babysitter- giving drug tests, monitoring chores, enforcing rules, which would be fine if people want to get sober, but this particular group wasn’t there. So it was very difficult, and honestly, I didn’t give as much attention & effort as I should have, but I was determined to try and help as much as I could, while juggling all of my own things. Needless to say, around 7 months pregnant I had to step down. The drama, the running back & forth between spending time with my fiance & having to deal with house shit became too much. All I wanted to do was be with the father of my child & experience every little thing with him.

Okay, so I know I’m jumping around, and for that I apologize, pregnancy brain is a real thing & 7 months postpartum it’s still alive and well. So, I finally got the courage to tell my mom about the baby. She was the last one I told, and the one I was most afraid to tell. My mom & I have always been incredibly close, she’s been the most amazing support that I could ask for. But I knew before telling her what she’d say...”are you crazy” “this is NOT the time to have a baby” “you are being so irresponsible” and it actually ended up going WORSE than I imagined. We barely spoke for months, and when we did, there was so much tension, so many things unsaid & so many unshared feelings you could literally FEEL it in the air. It was absolutely terrible. It was the hardest part about the pregnancy for the most part. She finally started to come around right before we moved into our apartment, because I think she realized she didn’t want to lose out on her daughter & her life. I was moving into my first apartment, yes at 27, finally moving into my first apartment, I was getting bigger & more exciting things were happening with the baby, I was finally growing up & starting this beautiful life & I think my mom realized she would miss out if she didn’t put aside her feelings and just be my mom. I still am so grateful for the moment she came around, because I didn’t really have anyone to talk too, woman wise. Sure, I could ask the older women at the house, or people I knew, but it’s not the same as MY mom. I wanted to be able to ask her the gross, embarrassing questions I didn’t even want to acknowledge were happening to me. “What do I do about the horrible acne I have?” “What makes this gas go away?” “Will I poop on the delivery table?!” “What happens if the baby comes out & I’m not ready to be a mom yet?” Questions only a mom can answer. Thank God for moms.

So as I said earlier, at about 7 months, we finally were able to move into our own apartment, and I was ecstatic. I could sleep with my fiance AND my pregnancy pillow at the same time. I could fill my refrigerator with whatever me & my fiance(AKA my fiance & the baby) wanted, and most importantly, we could start getting ready for this baby. We could give him a HOME. Decorate the different rooms, get the nursery ready, we could settle down, relax & wait for this baby to make his grand appearance. It was just one less thing to be stressed about, we had somewhere to bring this new little guy too, we could be together & we could pack for the hospital...something I waited until about 8 months 1 week to do....

After we finally settled into our new place, I noticed the famous swelling of the hands & feet, only this was not normal. And unfortunately, the hospital that I was going too for prenatal care was ALWAYS slammed, it was during COVID so the doctors wanted to be in & out, it was someone different every time & I felt like nothing I said was heard or more importantly, taken seriously. So when I started complaining about the swelling, without even looking at it, it was dismissed as normal swelling, and I was told I was fine. I was starting to go for weekly stress tests as well after my appointments and THERE was when the preeclampsia was discovered. Not at my OB appointment, where they’re supposed to be physically checking me and making sure I’m okay. Where I complained of swelling, headaches, fatigue, which are all red flags. Anyway, at 8 months 2 weeks, I went for an OB & stress test appointment. As usual the OB said everything looked great, HA. I went down for my stress test, found out my BP was 145/90, after taking it 4 times it was determined I had preeclampsia & would be admitted immediately for delivery. It was hands down the most terrifying thing in my life(at that moment, because it got much scarier in the next few days) Because of COVID, my fiance wasn’t allowed in the appointments with me, so when I found out I was staying, I called him in a meltdown, while begging the nurses to let him come up. And so began the most traumatic, excruciating, beautiful, breathtaking week of my life...the induction of Oliver. (yeah, you read that correctly, a WEEK)

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honestlyhufflepuff · 4 years ago

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Here are 20 reasons I am leaving the caregiver job with the client I've had since 2008: a list of unprofessional behavior and abuse by my client's guardian.

1. She said I wasn't Christian anymore, and said I was disrespecting my mother, for leaving the church I was raised in.

2. During the first year of employment, she would yell at me multiple times a week over things like leaving a lamp on (this is while I was caring for her medically fragile, high needs adult daughter). She would accuse me of being incompetent or trying to get fired for unemployment.

3. She told me I was not approved off for my honeymoon, less than a month beforehand, when I gave her over 5 months notice with consistent reminders. She harassed me over several texts while I was on my honeymoon saying I would be fired if I did not return a week earlier than I was supposed to.

4. She told me I still had to come in when I was sick and vomiting because she did not believe me. I became dehydrated and was vomiting so much that I had uncontrollable dry heaving and was unable to drive home. She refused to come home early when I told her of my symptoms, and when she did come home to see me retching into her trash can, she started handing me cleaning supplies to disinfect the trash can and the entire bathroom before I went to the emergency room...

5. ...there was no apology or ownership in forcing a sick employee to work to the point of needing to be hospitalized. She would not accept that I could not come into work for the next 3 days until my husband delivered the doctor's note.

6. I worked there throughout college, and would present my new school schedule each semester. For one class, I made the mistake of scheduling it after work. She said the schedule worked with her, but then consistently got home 30 min to and hour late. I missed so many classes that I had to withdraw.

7. Even after the hospitalization mentioned in #3, she would continue to be skeptical of any time I called in sick over the years (which wasn't often). I had no PTO or sick leave to use even when I was full time, so when I took off I didn't get paid. I was never approved to take off for any reason, and when I did take off it was accompanied by a massive guilt trip about how I was putting her family in a bind. It did not matter if it was a vacation, an illness, a doctor's appointment, or a family emergency. It also did not matter how much or little notice I gave; the guilt trips and emotional manipulation still accompanied any time I needed off. To this day, with every job I've had, I am always incredibly anxious about asking off, but it's never been a problem anywhere else I've worked.

8. Emotionally manipulative things she has said to get me to stay:

-"We don't have anyone else. I have to go to my job in order to care for [client's name]. You would be jeopardizing my job by leaving, and her well being." (If pressed she eventually admits to not looking for anyone else)

-"[Client's name] loves you like a sister, and her quality of life would go down significantly without you..." continues to tell me that if I don't do what she wants then I don't love or care for the client, even if it is because I need a job with higher pay and benefits to support my own family.

-"I thought the two of us were friends. This is very selfish of you." (Any time I don't do what she wants, like continuing to go to school full time).

-"God has put her in your life for a reason. You are called as spiritual sisters. It's your responsibility to care for her."

-"In the real world-the business world- other people won't be ok with you just taking off without approval. It's insubordinate and unprofessional." I was only 18 when she told me this, and young enough to believe her. Once again, I've literally never had a problem taking off with any other client or job because I often had PTO, and was always able to obtain leave approval easily. Even when it meant the client parent had to take off from work, they understood that the onus was on them to find the needed staff to account for people needing sick days and vacation.

9. She puts me in the middle of personal drama, constantly bad-mouthing the client's father and other attendants (who all inevitably leave after a year or two at most).

10. Told me, after a decade of infertility, that God told her I would become pregnant and have a son I was to name Amos. She said it would only become true if I prayed about it, so now when I most likely don't become pregnant, I feel it will be blamed on my lack of faith- or the fact that I am a different faith from her. I feel this instance was truly out of good intention, but ultimately unprofessional and something I would have preferred she keep to herself.

11. For years, she never got home when she said she would. I could never make plans after work because she would agree to come home at 7 and sometimes not make it home until 8:30. She always blamed traffic, needing to run an errand, or her boss keeping her. Then, when I had my own child I had to pick up from an after school program, she consitently got home on time. This showed me that she did have the executive functioning skills to be on time, but did not respect my personal time or work with other clients enough to do so before I was a parent.

12. I bent over backwards trying to help her. I scheduled less time with higher paying clients that were lower need. I sometimes worked 60 hour weeks while I was also in school. It never felt like it was enough. Even for the time I was working there 6 hours a week it was always "Why can't you stay later? Where do you have to be?" The more I gave, the more was expected, and then I was guilted for not meeting that higher expectation.

13. She refused to take the time to have team meetings with other service providers and caregivers, despite the fact all my other client families do this, and keep staff much more consistently as a result. Because of this, information and instructions were always inconsistent. With the client being significantly behaviorally challenged and medically fragile, this was at everyone's detriment.

14. Over the years, I referred 3 friends to work for her because she insisted she could not find caregivers on her own. All 3 of them lasted less than a year due to her behavior. She would then blame them and trash talk them to me, despite knowing I was still friends with them.

15. She expected caregivers to also deep clean the house. We are talking hours worth of work, that there just was not time for within the shift while also meeting the needs of the client.

16. She is openly homophobic, xenophobic, and although she thinks of herself as "not racist," she was extremely weird towards my besf friend's African fiancé. She refused to shake his hand and told me she didn't think he was with her for the "right reasons." Maybe thought he was in it for a green card? She seemed skeptical when I told her that he became a citizen 2 years prior, and that they'd been dating 6 years.

17. She has systematically isolated my adult client more and more over the years. We used to share many interests in things like Harry Potter, early 2000's pop, anime, Harajuku fashion, Adventure Time, Steven Universe, etc. One by one, everything we bonded over was off limits, due to being a "bad influence" or "demonic." She is no longer allowed to engage in any age-expected media unless it is explicitly Christian, and it breaks my heart to see how sad she gets about that.

18. When I was in college, and completely broke after just paying for books and classes, she said that she wanted me to go to the water park with her and the client. Admission was $50. I assumed she was paying since I was being required to go for work, and this was always what was done in the past. In the car, I asked if I could ride a roller coaster that the client wouldn't be able to go on while they ate ice cream. She said "Sure! You can ride whatever you like!"

So, I start getting excited. We're chatting pleasantly until the moment when she says "OK, when we get out of the car, you can go pay for your ticket first, and then I will bring..."

My stomach dropped. I told her there was a misunderstanding, and that I could not afford my ticket. She acted like it wasn't right that she should have to pay for mine. I told her that if she didn't want to, then I could study at the Starbucks across the street while they attended the park. She said no, because obviously she still wanted my help with her daughter. She paid for my ticket, making passive aggressive comments the whole time about everything I did, from how I pushed the wheelchair to how long I took to go to the bathroom despite the line.

I was no longer permitted to go ride the roller coaster, and I sat in silence while they ate their ice cream.

19. Recently, due to Covid, I do not have child care for my own daughter on Fridays. I have been bringing her to work with me, which my client's mom was supportive of. Then the client had drastic behavioral changes that I won't detail, but that O can say was significantly stressful on my daughter, and made it stressful for me to manage both of them at the same time. I told the mother, 2 weeks in advance, that I could not come in on Fridays until the behavior was consistently resolved. I do not want to get a sitter outside of maybe my aunt, due to covid, and I wouldn't expect her to do that every week. My client's mom was very understanding of this at first, seeing as we both now have special needs children, but the night before the next Friday I was scheduled to come in she berated me for not finding babysitting to the point that I started to panic. I firmly told her that I gave her plenty of notice, and then blocked her number up until the day I was scheduled to come back in.

20. When she is home at the same time I am helping her daughter, she micromanages everything. I think she is incapable of just letting me do the same work I've been doing for over a decade without standing over my shoulder and looking for something wrong.

Some background info:

I wanted to write this, first of all, to document all the reasons that I am justified in leaving, so that I can refer back to it no matter how hard she tries to get me to stay. This is like my anonymous way of getting it off my chest since no one who follows me on here knows me irl. Second of all, I want all the young professionals on here to know that, if they are treated like this in the work place, it is ok to leave!

I started working for this family when I was 18, and I am now 31. I have worked as many as 60 hour weeks, and as little as twice a month when I was full time with the state, but I have always cared for her in some capacity since 2008. I am currently working 15-20 hours a week with her.

You may wonder why I've stayed so long, and in regards to that I will say first of all that abusive relationships are hard to leave. The abuser may convince you that you are bad and won't find anywhere else good enough to take you. This can pertain to any type of relationship, be it romantic, professional, parental, or friends.

Another factor is that I love my client deeply, and my employer takes advantage of that. We grew up childhood friends, which is one reason maintaining professional boundaries with this family has been so hard.

The last reason I have stayed may be the hardest to explain, but I will try.

Sometimes she is good. My employer has made improvements over the years. Most of the worst things on here happened when I was in college. I don't know if her improvement is due to a genuine change in heart, or because she knows deep down that her behavior is why all the other caregivers left.

Whatever the reason, we do actually care for each other. We do actually connect and have a good time. She is kind to my husband and my daughter. She often tells me that I am a godsend to her family, a loyal and talented caregiver, and the best friend her daughter has ever had (although she will contradict this the moment I am not doing what she wants).

What I want people in similar situations to know is that the good moments do not erase the trauma of the bad ones. It is not my responsibility to "get over it" because she is trying to do better. A lot of the stuff she has said and done run too deep, and when she lapses into her old ways, I find myself reacting in a panic-driven, irritable way that's not really me. It's a reaction to trauma. I am not required to continue to stay at an underpaid job with an environment that evokes such emotions.

So please, if you are being treated like this in your job, then leave. You will find something else. For me, I intend to have another job lined up before leaving, but I'm on my way. For the first time in years, I've revamped my resumé, and it felt so empowering to work on a document that highlights my strengths!

For anyone in a similar position, you've got this. There are a lot of great jobs out there. There are a lot of humane employers. If you are treated like this, then label it for what it is. It is abuse. It is unhealthy. It is not ok. It is not erased by the times they are nice. And you deserve better.

#knowyourworth #employer #abuse #personal #lizzy speaks #personal vent #long post #text post #not su related #sorry for all the grammar errors i wrote this on mobile

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

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Survey #362

(this is actually from yesterday but i never posted it and now i don’t feel like updating the answers, so yeah)

Have you ever been cheated on? No. Who’s car were you last in? My mom's. Have you ever thought about getting your nose pierced? It's been pierced multiple times, but each time the hole closed after my piercings had to be taken out at the psych hospital. The final time though, it closed because the damn stud fell out in my sleep for the billionth time, I couldn't find it, and I let it close out of annoyance. Have your parents ever smoked pot? My dad has. Do you tend to make relationships complicated? I mean, I don't think so. I hope not. Are you good at giving directions? NO. Like, I can't. I would accidentally lead you to the middle of the ocean. Would your mom care if she found condoms in your room? She'd be confused as fuck because I live with her so she knows for sure I'm not seeing anyone. Did you speak to your father today? No. Did you kiss someone before you were sixteen? No, it was actually a month after turning 16. Could you go a day without eating? Nooo. I've said before and I'll say it again, I don't deal with abdominal pain well, so yeah. Are your nails always painted? They never are. Have you ever met any bands/band members before? No. What color is your hair? Boring 'ole brown. .-. Your best friend needed somewhere to stay, could they live with you? She absolutely could. I know Mom would welcome her without hesitation. Have you danced in the rain? No. When you said something naughty when you were little, did your parents wash out your tongue with soap? No, but it was threatened. What do you think of spanking little children when they do something wrong? Okay or not? No, it is absolutely not okay. You do not teach children through fear, ever, nor do you show children that it is ever okay to hit people when you're upset. Who was the last male you hung out with? Uhhh, I think Girt? I haven't truly hung out with a guy in a long time. Who is your favorite person to text? Sara. Who did you last take a picture with? My sister. What’s your favorite brand of jeans? I don't have one. Which show is better: Spongebob or The Fairly Odd Parents? The latter. Both can be funny, but Cosmo cracks me up. Has anyone ever told you that you looked like someone else? I actually think the only time I was ever compared to someone else (make-believe, at that) was when I dressed up for Halloween one year and a friend told me I looked like Eileen Galvin from Silent Hill 4: The Room. Do you enjoy the sound of crickets at night and birds in the morning? Yesssss. Who is the most overrated singer? Idk, I don't even know who's "in" right now. What is your favourite planet? Saturn. Do you have any pets that you had since you were born? No. Do you own anything that you had when you were a baby? Yes, stored away. Do you enjoy Mario games? Mario Kart is fun, but otherwise I'm not a massive fan. What’s your favorite online game? World of Warcraft. Have you ever been hit with a ball in gym class? I think so. I was always terrified of the days we got to play dodgeball or whatever, like that shit hurts. Do you ever turn your cell phone off? No. Who was last to cook for you? My ma. Do you check your texts right away when you receive them? Usually. Who is your most trusted person? My mom, probably. How late did you stay up last night? God, I don't even know. Last night was my sleep study, and I was so uncomfortable in that bed that I slept maybe only an hour or two. Hell, or less. I also couldn't sleep on my stomach, which really didn't help because that's always how I sleep. I'm exhausted now and have such a headache. When/where are you most likely to sing? In the car, I guess. I very rarely sing anywhere. Would you ever wish to explore a cave? FUCK YES. You see the person you fell hardest for. What do you do? Panic like a motherfucker internally, avoid eye contact, and try to evade him (not like he'd actually pursue me) without being too obvious. Have you been/are you depressed? Both. Are your pop-ups blocked on your computer? Yes. Have you ever ridden in a car with someone who was high? Yes, because I was afraid to tell her I didn't want. Thank fuck we got home safe. I was absolutely, positively terrified we'd be pulled over. Who is the best hugger you know? Ha, actually the person I just mentioned. Have you ever had to be put to sleep for an operation? Yes. Does anybody have any proof of stupid things you have done? Oh, Facebook comments... Why did you text the last person in your inbox? I was replying to my mom. Have you ever been able to do a split? No. Did you ever date the last person you kissed? Yes. Are you intimidated by the last person you know talked badly about you? She doesn't "intimidate" me, no. She just gets on my last goddamn nerve every time she opens her mouth. Have you ever cried in school? Yes. Last person of the opposite sex you screamed at? I've never screamed at a guy because I'm afraid of them. I've sobbed at Jason, so like my voice was raised, but it definitely wasn't screaming. Do you have any weird sleep habits? Well, speaking of screaming, my nightmares have me shrieking in the middle of most nights. I also talk in my sleep like, a lot. Do you consider yourself an emotional person? Very. When was the last time you had a headache? This morning, I'm sure because of how shitty I slept. When was the last time you encountered a puppy? Prepare for a rant... We have one right now, even though our landlord told us specifically no puppies because of all the housetraining they require. My mom has been wanting a dog, and Tobey finally agreed to it, and she's been looking for a while. So my sister Ashley randomly shows up with a stray puppy a friend was keeping, terrified and LOADED with ticks, and she's reminding Mom and I why we DON'T WANT A PUPPY. She's peeing everywhere BUT outside (specifically on a stupid fucking expensive carpet that Tobey will have a cow over just ONE stain), is terrorizing my cat, and has an overwhelming amount of energy. Ashley specifically told me that if Mom doesn't let Ash know, I needed to tell her if the puppy was stressing Mom out, "because this isn't supposed to be a stressful experience for her." Well, she's been sobbing again and again and I literally just came back mid-question from comforting her because she broke down so hard she could barely breathe because now she had diarrhea on the fucking carpet. Ashley's all bitchy now about it for no apparent or even remotely valid reason, and by God do I want to cuss her the fuck out over this bull she brought on. Safe to say we're not keeping the dog, but not quickly enough. When Mom hurts, I hurt, and I am so goddamn furious. Is there anything that happened a long time ago that you still laugh about? Yeah, a number of things. Do you ever try to interpret your dreams? No, given I don't believe most have any meaning. It's brain word vomit, lol. What was the last thing you bought impulsively? I don't have the income for impulse purchases. When I get money, what I'm after is well-planned. How do you feel about singing songs out loud in front of other people? I don't, usually. I'm very self-conscious about it. When was the last time you were feeling really, really nervous? That nervous, I'm unsure. I've been nervous, sure, but I haven't had a massive anxiety episode in a while. If you’re no longer in school, what is something you miss about it? If you’re still in school, what’s something you think you’re going to miss about it? I miss feeling productive and like I was going at least somewhere. Do you use your turn signals when you’re driving? Yes; I hate when people don't. How exactly are you feeling right now? Mad at my sister. Have you ever had to board up your windows because of a hurricane? No. Do you tell anyone to chew with their mouths closed? No, to avoid "confrontation" that is too negligible to even quality as conflict. I'm just a lil bitch when it comes to stuff like this. Have you ever ordered pizza and sent it to someone else’s house? No. What was the first thing you drank when you woke up this morning? My nurse or whatever her position is (I don't mean that dismissively, I genuinely don't know her title) brought me some orange juice. Do you think stretch marks from having a baby are ugly or badges of honor? Oh my god, fuck off. Anyone who can carry a child for nine months and then endure what I assume is the worst pain (usually) survivable has every ounce of my goddamn respect. The natural result of making room for a like 6+ lb. human being is not "ugly." It's a part of life and to me shows an incredible amount of bravery and love to be willing to go through something I could absolutely never. Ever done a keg stand? Haha, no. My dizzy ass will pass. Who is the last person you lent money to? My mom. Do you share clothing with anyone? Mom and I will share bras or pants sometimes. Have you ever visited anyone in a rehab? No. Was the last thing you drank a Coke or Pepsi product? No, I have lemonade right now. Honestly, do you think that you’re going to be an overprotective parent? IF I wanted to be a parent, I feel like I definitely would be. Not like... overbearing, but still extremely protective in cases I think it's called for. What was the last kind of chips you ate? Veggie chips yesterday, actually. They're honestly not that good, but it's a doable snack with salsa. What is one thing that you really wish you could understand, but don’t? Economics. I dread taking care of my own money because idk what the fuck to do with taxes and such. What is the last thing you charged? My phone. Have you ever held a snake? I've held plenty of snakes, I love them.

#survey #surveys #questions

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raphaelshusband · 4 years ago

Text

i can cure you just trust me | saphael one shot

triggers: mentions of suicide.

He rubbed his tired eyes as he checked the last drip. Now that the boy's face was clean, he could perfectly see his beauty. He had a long, pale face that looked incredibly calm. He remembered his thick, blood-stuck hair, which he had to shave off, unfortunately, to open his skull in any way. The operation was successful, but the hair cannot be as long as before. He was about to leave his bed when the door swung open and he heard a terrified scream.

"Oh my God, Simon!" He turned to the voice. A woman, strikingly similar to the patient, ran into the room.

"Excuse me? Who.. are you?" He tilted his head. The woman looked at Raphael.

"Oh.. oh, sorry. I'm his mother. Elaine Lewis." Elaine's eyes were bloodshot and she looked about to cry.

"Yes, of course.. first I invite you to my office" he showed to the next room. The brown haired nodded and followed him. He pointed to her place and sat down at the desk himself. He clasped his fingers together. "Well, let's start with your son's current condition.." he took a deep breath. "He came to us in a critical condition, we managed to immediately perform an operation on the skull, which was seriously damaged, the heart stopped, but..." here the woman clogged her mouth with her hand. "...it all ended well. It was just as lucky that the stomach wound was not deep, so there was no need to stitch it deeper."

"Oh God.." Elaine hid her face in her hands. Santiago felt regret and compassion. He bent down to cheer the woman by rubbing his hand over her shoulder.

"Could you please tell me what exactly.. happened?" He returned to the chair.

"So.. I was working then, my daughter was at university, so Simon stayed with his friend.. later I got the news that he had been sitting in the bathroom for too long and she found him like this.." tears rolled down her cheeks involuntarily. "Simon is depressed, he goes to therapy, he takes medication.. but he still cannot forget the future and my heart breaks when I see him like this" Raphael nodded in understanding and sighed.

"We will do our best to help Simon and I can assure you that your son will come out of here in better condition," he opened a drawer and took out a bundle of documents. "I would ask you to complete these documents and take them back to the receptionist."

***

He pressed the handle and stepped inside. He kicked off his shoes, hung his jacket on a hanger, and walked deeper into the living room.

"I'm back," he declared tiredly.

"Finally" he heard the roommate's voice.

"I'm going to shower and go to sleep."

"Won't you eat anything?" Magnus entered the room.

"Do we have something else besides instant soups?"

"No.."

"We can't eat always junk food. I'll do shopping tomorrow."

"Sure, doctor" Raphael rolled his eyes and jumped into the bathroom. He pulled off his shirt, feeling his muscles slack with fatigue every second. He sat in the shower for an hour until Magnus started yelling out of the kitchen at him, to leave because he would have to pay a gigantic water bill.

He left the bathroom and shuffled into his bedroom. He threw himself on the bed and sank into the pleasant sheets. After a while he fell asleep.

The next morning, he managed to find a few eggs so he could make a hearty breakfast. He couldn't watch Magnus eating those instant soups from the paper cups nonstop. Bane was like a father to him. When his mother died, he took him under his roof and took care of him as necessary.

He didn't know how to pay his gratitude debt at all, so he just agreed to pay the bills. And polite cleaning.

"So," the Asian began. "You fell down yesterday, as always, so you didn't answer my basic question. "How was your day?"

"It was tough. I have to run to the operating room every day, and I need stand there for up to five hours until no one changes me. My back began to make itself felt."

***

Simon Lewis didn't wake up until after a hard week. He grunted, closing his eyes again, feeling the tubes being pulled from his mouth. He let out a soft groan, feeling a tremendous headache and an unpleasant nausea. Shortly thereafter, he vomited, but luckily the nurse standing next to him quickly gave him a metal bowl.

She brushed his hair back from his forehead, her touch gentle and soothing.

"It's okay. It's okay," she said in a nice, low voice.

Simon collapsed onto the pillows, which were immediately adjusted. There was a clatter of boots and a muffled woman's voice, but Lewis couldn't hear what she was saying.

"Good morning" he heard after a while. He lifted his eyes to meet the short man's gaze. "How are we feeling?" Lewis swallowed down his throat as he felt the cold chill of the stethoscope against his skin.

"Bad," he grunted. His tongue was tangled, it felt as if there were remnants of cotton balls lying on it.

"And more specifically?" The doctor's tone was inviting to talk, it was just impossible not to listen to him, impossible not to answer.

"My head hurts."

"Yes.. that's obvious. You had a serious head injury. You are lucky because the surgery was successful. You are a strong boy" the stool shuffled.

"Do you remember what happened?"

"Yes," he replied hoarsely.

"Okay.. do you remember your name?"

"Simon. I have no amnesia" the doctor laughed, it was the most beautiful sound Simon had ever heard. "I'm sure."

"Of course. Lily!" He gave the nurse a few names of the medication and went back to the boy. "Lily will give you the right medication right away, and I will leave you to rest. Remember that you are under constant supervision.."

"I shouldn't be here," he interrupted. "I should be dead by now. Goddamn Clary must have been with me then." Raphael shuddered at the words.

"Your friend did it right, she called the ambulance. I doubt she or your mom wanted you dead," he hunched gently and laced his fingers. Simon sighed heavily and closed his eyes. He was tired, and he felt that the doctor did not understand him at all. "I'll come back to you tonight."

***

He disconnected the drips one by one. He sprang up from the bed, rushing to the door.

When he opened them, he felt nothing. It was fine until he ran out and heard his name. He ran as fast as he could until he felt weak and the world began to spin.

"Simon? Simon, what are you doing!?" There was a Spanish accent. He fell into Raphael's arms. "Why did you run away?" He took him by the arms and began to lead him into the hall. Lewis began to throw himself.

"I don't want to! Let go of me!" Raphael pressed him tightly against him, breathing hard. The man was gently rubbing Simon's back as he exhausted himself and began to cry. The Mexican was silent. He neither moved nor spoke. Simon was grateful to him.

Raphael slowly led him to the bed and sat him on it. Lewis slowly lay down on it, and the surgeon carefully connected the drips.

"Simon. I understand this is difficult for you, but please don't do that anymore" Santiago looked at him soflty. "If necessary, I can get a hospital psychologist," the boy said. "I had a friend who committed suicide once," his voice cracked. "I failed to help him even though I tried very hard. Please, Simon, don't do this to yourself. You're young, you still have a lot to do," Raphael's eyes filled with tears. "I stand here in front of you and I swear I will do my best to help you."

***

When Santiago finished his shift, he changed into more casual clothes and entered Simon's room. The boy was lying on his side and didn't move.

"Have you met Elliot yet?"

"Yes.. he seems to be nice.." Simon croaked, his voice unemotional.

"That's good."

"Aren't you going home?"

"I have come to check if everything is alright. Do you feel better after the talk?"

"A little bit.." he admitted. "Sorry about earlier.. I caused even more trouble" Raphael put a hand on his shoulder.

"You were under emotions, Simon. You'll see, everything will be fine yet."

"I've been to different hospitals. I've never met such a nice doctor," he admitted. "They did their job and they left."

"I know that a stay in hospital can amount to stress and anxiety. I want everyone to feel at least slightly comfortable."

***

"Thank you," he said, staring into Raphael's eyes. "Thank you for helping me. You can tell Mr. Elliot that I will definitely come see him."

"You're welcome, kid. I was doing my duty." Without a moment's thought, Simon hugged him, and Santiago ran his hand through his short hair.

"Hope to see you again."

"On removing the seams."

"I meant something nicer."

#saphael #oneshot #fanfic #fanfiction #sapahel #simon lewis x raphael santiago #shadowhunters

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vantaestummy · 5 years ago

Note

it’s been a really awful summer friend-wise for me but your work always cheers me up, perhaps when you have the time or if you don’t mind the prompt, could you write a little bit of minjoon for me? jiminnie comes home from a rough day, overworked himself to the point of illness & tears. joon does his best to comfort him, doing whatever he may need. emeto only , please. you rock!!

the A/N: same bby. i had a friend straight up kiss my crush that i’ve had for like three years. it’s all good. i hope this helps.

TW///emeto & descriptions of panic and stress

————————————

Jimin’s part time job consists of teaching ballet to little kids at a dance academy, one that is not too far from him and Namjoon’s apartment.

Jimin loves his job with all his heart. He loves working with children and helping them to enhance their dance skills. He only wishes that he himself, had gotten such an early start. Maybe then, his technique would be impeccable.

Let Namjoon tell it, his dancing is impeccable. Jimin couldn’t have asked for a more supportive boyfriend. Namjoon always makes sure to film his performances, cheer for him the loudes in the crowdt, and is the first at the stage door with Jimin’s favorite chocolates and a bouquet of flowers just to drive the point home. Jimin couldn’t be more lucky, but today, the dancer doesn’t think that the comfort of his boyfriend is enough to get him through.

One of the parents had complained that their daughter wasn’t getting enough out of the class. Apparently, Jimin’s teaching style was not worth the money she was paying, and asked for his immediate removal, rather than questioning the motives of her child. In reality, the girl is a brat, always picking on the other students and never taking the exercises seriously. Jimin always made sure to create a positive and friendly environment for his students, but this girl takes advantage of Jimin’s kindness. He doesn’t blame her, really. She is clearly spoiled and acting out because dancing is not what she wants to do. And that’s okay. It is her mother who is forcing her into an activity that she hates, and on top of that, giving her everything that she wants regardless of whether or not she is deserving.

When Jimin gets called into the boss’s office, he knows that this is the end. He knows that he is going to be let go. The mere thought of it brings tears to his eyes. Thankfully, his boss Hoseok is one of the kindnest, most understanding people in the world.

Unfortunately, his hands might be tied.

“Jimin-ah, you’re amazing, you are, and even though I believe you, we have to figure something out. I’m not firing you, but if she goes above my head and contacts my boss, I don’t think there will be much that I can do. Just, don’t stress, okay? We’ll figure this out.”

And as kind as Hoseok was, Jimin didn’t heed his advice.

On the bus ride home, Jimin is a puddle of tears, blood pulsing through his veins, making him ridiculously dizzy and worst of all, nauseous. Jimin wasn’t necessarily prone to motion sickness, but with the swaying of the bus, as well as all of his pent up anxiety from the fear of losing his job, he couldn’t take it.

As soon as the bus stops, Jimin is off and running, his feet pounding against the pavement as runs to where his boyfriend is. Tears pour down his red cheeks, making it nearly impossible to see from how blurry they are.

Jimin snatches his keys from his back pocket, his hands trembling from all the nerves. He can see the key that will open his front door, but his hands shake so much that picking it from the ring is incredibly difficult.

The door opens, Namjoon having heard all of the ruckus Jimin had caused.

“Baby? Jimin-ah what’s wrong? Baby.” Namjoon cups at Jimin’s cheek, the younger of the two still trying to find the right key.

“J-Joonie, Joonie-hyung―” Jimin weeps, falling into Namjoon’s front side as he collapses. Namjoon pulls him inside, hoisting the fragile dancer into his arms as he kicks the door closed. “Baby, baby talk to me, please, what’s wrong?”

Jimin sobs, his chest heaving as he tries to regain control of his breathing.

“I-I c-can’t breathe hyungie―”

“Look at me, baby it’s okay, I’m right here. You’re okay.”

As Jimin’s sobs become more forceful, they start to morph into something more grotesque, his stomach leaping into his throat.

Jimin starts to gag.

“’M, ‘m gonna throw up.” He weeps.

Namjoon nods, trying desperately to calm his raging heart.

“Okay, okay baby. Let’s go to the bathroom, okay?”

Jimin’s voice cracks as he inhales with a wheeze. “O-Okay.”

Namjoon carries a frail Jimin down the hall and into the bathroom, the younger man choking and sputtering beneath the palm of his hand. He tries to swallow down the bile in his throat, but it only makes his stomach feel sicker.

Jimin nearly breaks his knee bones as he collapses in front of the toilet, gagging fruitlessly over the toilet, spit flying from his lips. He coughs, a small splash of the salad that he ate for lunch, trickling into the toilet.

Namjoon whimpers, the hurt that he feels for his boyfriend, more than evident.

“My Jimin, my poor Jimin-ah, what made you sick like this baby?”

Jimin croaks, choking out a surprising torrent of vomit. His heaves echo within the porcelain, grated and broken. His retches are crackled and frayed with anguish, so loud that Namjoon can hear the damage that Jimin is causing to his throat. He heaves, his head almost hitting the toilet lid as his body jolts forward from the force of his sound. Jimin squeaks as another forceful round of vomit pours from his lips. He raises a shaking hand to flush but the effort takes far too much energy than his body is willing to give.

“Baby, you have to calm down. You’ll only make yourself feel worse. I need you to take deep breaths with me. I’ll do it with you, here, feel.” Namjoon takes Jimin’s weak hand into his own, placing it against his chest as he exaggerates every breath. “Just like this, breath with me. In, and out, in, and out, yes, Jimin-ah, like that.”

Jimin shivers, his breaths stuttered as he tries to follow the melody of Namjoon’s voice. Jimin has always loved Namjoon’s voice, so deep and tranquil.

Jimin breathes out on a deep exhale, his voice still withered, raspy, from the vomiting. Namjoon pets at his hair. “Jimin, do you think you can stand? Let me take care of you.”

Jimin mewls, shriveling up against the toilet. “I ‘on’t know... My stomach... it hurts...”

“Do you still feel nauseous?”

Jimin ponders the question for a moment. He shakes his head.

“No, just, achey.”

“Well let’s get you up. You need to rest. You’ve been working too hard.”

Jimin winces as Namjoon cradles him, pulling him to his feet and flushing the toilet with his foot.

Jimin giggles bitterly, tears sprinkling to life in his eyes. “Look at me, I’m so―”

“Don’t you dare. This is your body’s way of telling you that you need a break. Not only have you been going to school, but working with the dance team as well as teaching the kids? Baby, you pulling yourself too thin.”

Did Jimin mention that Namjoon is a nurse in training? It’s a plus, but sometimes, his boyfriend’s knowledge can work against him.

“I like working Joon-ah. I like to feel like I’m doing something.” Jimin mumbles with a pout. He is curled up on the couch, his hands tucked into tiny fists against his chest. Namjoon gets the tea going before draping a cover over Jimin’s small body.

“You’re always doing something Jimin. When was the last time you had anything to eat besides take-home salads and protein shakes? When was the last time you slept more than five hours? You never come to bed with me anymore. I sometimes get up to check on you and you’ll still be practicing till three in the morning. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad if you didn’t have to get up at six in the morning to get ready to teach a class, not to mention that you have your own classes right after that. You’re tearing yourself apart and I’m not going to stand for this any longer. Tomorrow, you’re taking the day off.”

Jimin gasps, a giggle spilling from his lips. He can’t really believe Namjoon’s audacity, but, it is also incredibly endearing.

“Joon-ah, I can’t just―”

“You are. You’re taking the day off tomorrow and so will I. I’m going to cook for you, erh, I’ll order in, and we can watch movies like we used to and... spend time together. I know this sounds selfish but, as much as I want you to rest for you, I want you to rest for me. I love you Jimin.”

The tiny dancer laughs uncontrollably, his voice still tinged with pain from being sick, but he can’t help it.

His boyfriend is so good to him.

“I love you more, Joonie.”

“Impossible. I love you most.”

Jimin titters, pulling Namjoon in for a hug. “Come, rest with me.”

Namjoon kisses his forehead. “After I finish your tea. When you feel better, do you think you’ll be able to tell me what made you feel so bad? You really scared me baby.”

Jimin sighs, grazing Namjoon’s cheek with his thumb.

“A mom at the studio. She says her kid isn’t learning anything in the class when really, her daughter is the one causing so much trouble. I don’t know what else to do. Hoseok-hyung said that he wouldn’t fire me but, if this mom complains again, it might be out of his hands.”

Namjoon frowns. “Have you had a talk with this mom? Has Hoseok?”

Jimin shakes his head. “No but, she’s one of the studio’s best clients. Her whole family has trained there. This girl though... she doesn’t want to dance. I can tell Namjoon. She hates it there and so, she acts out. Now her mom is blaming me.”

Namjoon nods his head. This is a tricky situation, and with Jimin’s job on the line, it’s no wonder that he suffered such a massive panic attack.

“Why don’t we have a talk with this mom, and if push comes to shove, we’ll find you someplace else to work. You need to give yourself more credit. You are one of the most talented dancers I know Jimin-ah. Any studio would be honored to have you as a teacher.”

Jimin groans, leaning against the pillows of the couch. “What did I do to deserve you...”

Namjoon smiles. “I should be asking you the same thing.”

Suddenly, the smoke alarm goes off.

“Shit.” Namjoon jumps to his feet to turn off the tea kettle. Jimin laughs, the joyous sound bringing a dimpled smile to his face.

“This is why we are ordering in tomorrow.” He calls out, melting into the couch cushions as his body succumbs to sleep.

Namjoon is right, he needs a break.

#sick #sick!jimin #sickfic #caretaker!namjoon #my fic #sick!minjoon #bts sickfic #emeto #tw vomiting #tw anxiety #tw vomit

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amyscascadingtabs · 5 years ago

Text

this is the safest place i’ve ever known

(read on ao3)

my mind is still reeling thinking about mel being pregnant and i needed some pregnancy fluff in my life so i wrote this hope you enjoy xox

Throughout their relationship, Jake has always cherished his and Amy's last moments of the day. The relaxed half an hour where she's solving crossword puzzles and he's playing games on his phone, followed by the moment she’ll decide she's tired and they'll turn out the lights and snuggle for a bit before each drifting off to sleep, is one of his favorite parts of living together. He never thought he'd see a day where these nights became even better, but the day their baby started kicking, he’d found out he’d been dead wrong.

He'd known Amy would feel it first. In a logical sense, it had felt more than fair when he considered their respective workloads for the whole pregnancy project, but on an emotional level, it wasn't as black-and-white. Jealousy was an ugly emotion, and he hadn’t experienced it for a second witnessing the first trimester’s crying feasts and vomiting episodes, but it hadn’t been without its sting when she'd texted him during the midst of a busy workday.

I think I just felt Peanut move.

Like, 90% sure.

Oh my god, he’d written back, almost immediately. I’m so proud of them.

He’d stopped for a moment before adding, I hope I can feel it soon.

I’m sure you will, babe. ❤️

It had taken two long weeks before he did.

Jake was embarrassed to admit it, but there had been times during those weeks where he’d felt left out, so clearly separate from the bond between Amy and the tiny life they’d created. She would put her hand on the ever-growing bump whenever it happened, a delighted smile on her lips, and he’d touch his hand to the exact same place without any reaction. Either their baby was shy for some reason, or they were straight-up trying to make him look like a fool. He didn’t exactly appreciate either, but any movement from them would leave Amy beaming with happiness and pride for several minutes, so he’d swallowed the self-centric jealousy, kissed her forehead and let it be.

They’d celebrated twenty-one weeks of pregnancy - more than halfway to the finish line - the night he’d first felt it. It was more of an early night in and snuggling under the comforter kind of celebration than anything else, but it had felt perfect all the same. Jake had been seconds away from closing his eyes, lazily tracing patterns with his fingers on his wife’s baby bump and pressing kisses while her shoulder, when he’d first felt something move beneath his palm. The smallest of nudges, subtle and almost inconspicuous; but he’d felt it.

“Ames,” he’d practically gawked. “They moved!”

“Yeah, I know. Wait,” she blinked, realizing what he’d said. “You felt that?”

“Yeah! About time!”

She’d laughed at his excitement, ruffling his curls as he dove under the comforter.

“I’m going to see if I can get them to do it again,” he mumbled with his lips right below her belly button, running his hands along her sides.

“Why do I feel like this is going to be a long night?”

Their evenings had gained a brand-new tradition since that night. If they’d been perfect before, Jake couldn’t help but think this was better still. Each night as they settled on their preferred sides of the bed, Amy with an increasing collection of pillows, Jake would give her about five minutes of solo crossword puzzle solving until he set to work on trying to communicate with their baby. Evenings were when they were most awake, he’d learned. To a beginning, he’d only get faint, bubbling movements that were gone in a second, but as the weeks passed, they grew more distinct until he could see them happening. It all felt very alien if he thought too hard about it, but then again, that was true for most pregnancy facts. At least he could have fun with this part.

“Jake, are you trying to annoy them into kicking?”

“Mm-hmm?” He feigns an innocent expression, pouting his lip as he looks up at his six-months-pregnant wife. “Just preparing them for the outside world, babe.”

“So they’re ready for you to annoy the crap out of them when they're born?”

“Pssch, me? I’ve never been annoying in my life.” He ignores the glare Amy shoots him. “I'm preparing them for actual annoying things, like taxes, and following rules.”

“Following rules isn't annoying,” she protests, twitching as Jake tries to tickle her. “Babe, I swear they’re asleep.”

“I swear you’re wrong.”

“Hey! I’m the one who’s carrying this child!”

“And you’re doing an awesome job of it.” He comes up for a second to give her a quick peck on the lips. He means what he’s saying - she’s totally acing the whole pregnancy thing, which he tries to remind her often - but he has his limits. “Doesn't make you any less wrong, sadly.”

“Mm, you’re infuriating.” Her hands cup his face, drawing him back for a longer kiss that makes up for in heart what it lacks in flair. “You’re adorable, though.”

“The Peralta special,” he smirks. He’s still moving his palm back and forth on her stomach, hoping for the warm touch to garner a reaction. “Did you want to go to sleep, or -”

“You can talk to them for a bit, if you want.”

Jake barely waits for her to finish her permission before he’s crawling underneath the duvet again, pressing his lips against the football-sized bump.

“So I know you’re very in love with your mom,” he starts off, earning himself another laugh from Amy. “Which, I totally get you. She’s the smartest, funniest, most beautiful and allover amazing woman I’ve ever met. Plus she’s literally growing you and all that, so you’re probably pretty loyal to her, right? That’s fair.”

He traces a heart around her belly button. “I know I’m not much in comparison to her. Right now, I’m just the weirdo guy who keeps trying to make you kick and sings Taylor Swift songs to you because you’re never too young to be introduced to the greatest songwriter of all. But do you think you could side with me, just for once? Come on. It’d be so fun to see your mom’s face.”

Nothing. He pushes his nose into Amy’s skin a bit further.

“She makes this amazing expression when I’m right and she’s wrong about something, you know. She does this eye roll and purses her lips, like she’s trying to pretend she’s mad but she’s not. Trust me, it’s incredible.”

Amy huffs. “I don’t do that.”

“Anyway, I know you’re not going to come out of there for a few months. You could actually survive now if you did, which is crazy to think about, but you shouldn’t because it would stress us all out very much and we haven’t even built your crib yet. Sorry about that. I just wanted to tell you that we’re going to have so much fun when you do,” he whispers, his voice softening. “We'll finally get to hang out just the two of us. We’re going to play games and share secrets, and when you’re a little older, we’ll watch all the movies for kids your mom never wants to see with me. It's going to be the best.”

He has to pause for a moment. He takes a couple of deep breaths, in and out, pushing away the nervous

feeling in his chest.

“I used to be scared of this, you know. I still am. But… the weird thing is, it’s like the more you grow, the more excited I get, too. Because I'm scared of a billion different things, like maybe you’ll hate me or I won't know how to take care of you or maybe you won't even like Die Hard when you get older, but…” He lowers his voice and mumbles the next words. “You're kinda already the coolest person that ever existed.”

It's so weak, barely there at all, but underneath his palm, Jake feels a faint flutter.

“It’s an impressive achievement, considering you're not even born yet,” he continues, encouraged by the miniscule movement. “But it's true. You are. And I know it's like fifteen weeks left until then, but… I really can't wait to meet you, whenever you're ready.”

There's another flutter. He presses his palm into the spot, waits a few seconds, and there's a proper kick right against his hand.

“Told you so.” He looks up at Amy with a grin plastered on his face. “Awake.”

“You woke them up,” she says, shaking her head but smiling. “Waking up when you give them praise - that’s a Peralta if I ever knew one.”

He wants to retort something, but a series of repeated kicks against his palm makes him forget what he was planning to say.

“I love you,” he whispers to their unborn child instead, his words muffled against Amy’s skin as he traces kisses up and down the curve of her stomach. “So much. You better get used to hearing me telling you that before you get out of there -”

Jake doesn’t finish his sentence before there’s another kick - only this time, it’s right at his nose and packed with enough strength to make him flinch. “Ouch!”

Amy’s giggling so much she’s shaking, clasping her hand over her mouth as she keeps on laughing.

“They kicked my nose, Ames! I’m pretty sure that’s a hate crime!”

“Maybe they’re learning how to establish boundaries.”

“That or my discomfort with emotions is genetic,” he grumbles while massaging the bridge of his nose.

“It isn’t,” Amy promises him. She gestures at him to come closer and he goes willingly, meeting her lips with his and feeling her smile against them. “They just have to practice. If it’s any consolation, they’re kicking me in the bladder on a daily basis.”

Jake grimaces. “Ow.”

“Mm-hmm.” She beams, tracing her fingers through the curls near his forehead. “You’re going to be a great dad, you know.”

“You really think so?”

“I really do. And I can’t wait for us to meet our baby.”

“Our baby,” he repeats not for the first time in the last five months. Still holding one hand on the bump, he feels two more tiny kicks, growing stronger as Amy’s hand covers his.

He had a feeling their peaceful evenings together would come to change drastically in fifteen or so weeks’ time, but for now, they were well and truly perfect.

#this is just a brief thing heh i feel like it's not that great but it's FLUFFY #my writing #b99 #brooklyn 99 #brooklyn nine-nine #peraltiago #jake x amy #b99 fic #brooklyn 99 fic #brooklyn nine-nine fic #b99 fanfiction #brooklyn nine-nine fanfiction #jake x amy fic #jake x amy fanfiction #peraltiago fic #peraltiago fanfiction

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mystic-kitten-writer · 5 years ago

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You’re so sweet for being so reassuring and not minding at all how I ramble about astrology 🧡 I’m very flattered with how you said how observant I am, thank you for that! But oh my gosh, please, there’s nothing to be jealous about. I personally feel like I get bogged down by details that at times I get too caught up and the bigger picture gets overlooked. (1/9)

And Zuko really is the poster child of a Mars man, you summed it up perfectly!! I am far from being an expert, but I love the validation you shower me with 🥰 Though I actually would love to reach a level where I can offer chart readings to anyone interested and have it be some kind of little side job one day. But ahh, there’s still so much I have to learn, from traditional to modern, it’s a discipline really worth getting into. (2/9)

I’ve never really thought about Azula’s nor Mai’s sign. Now I really want to think + look into it! It would be fun to analyze how that affected their dynamic with Zuko. I’ve been meaning to do a rewatch of the entire series due to quarantine, but even with staying home, there’s still school. And I find myself more stressed and not in the proper headspace to do a whole rewatch + be able to appreciate it properly. Idk if that made any sense, but hopefully I get over it soon. (3/9)

I’m hypothesizing that Azula has strong Leo/Scorpio to her, though she shows the negative qualities. She’s very loud, loud as in she makes people take notice of her + seeks praise/basks in any praise given to her, feeling entitled to all of it. Though I have to give it to her, she has this compelling vibe to her, so her entitlement is valid. She’s also cunning + manipulative and is a master at being so. Though none of that is her fault, she just really didn’t know any better. (4/9)

I would associate Mai’s no bull-shit attitude with Capricorn/Aquarius. I actually haven’t read the comics but her no bull-shit persona shines in the series and it’s fantastic! She’s not upfront with her feelings, but blunt with everything else. At the same time, she didn’t have a problem with stepping up when needed, such as stepping up to Azula. All of which fit into the archetypes of Cap/Aqua. And I agree communication between her and Zuko would be crucial for understanding between them. (5/9)

Those are my best guesses, I’ll get back to you more on how their signs played into their interactions with Zuko when I get to rewatching the series later! Yue’s gentleness comes from her Venus energy, and it’s wonderful how it allows Zuko’s inner Cancer to be visible. I also just realized Yue’s Libra energy and Zuko’s Aries energy play a part as to why they’re so appealing to each other too. They are opposites that just absolutely complement each other! (6/9)

Oh, I’m a Taurus + Libra moon + Sagittarius ascendant! Thanks for being curious ☺️ Going back to how you said you’re a Scorpio and your sister is a Taurus, I can relate. My mom is a Scorpio, and similarly, it took growing up for me to understand where my mom is coming from because we used to disagree on a bunch of things. I don’t have a proper explanation for it tbh. Other than the fact that Taurus and Scorpio are naturally opposites, so misunderstandings can easily arise. (7/9)

Though funny enough, I have a lot of people in my life that have Scorpio in their chart, and I’ve read a few times that if signs that naturally oppose each other make the effort to connect, then the connection is extraordinary. And as a Taurus, the people who positively affected me most are people with Scorpio energy, so I guess it’s the universe’s way of bringing balance. (8/9)

Omg, all of my asks basically make up a whole essay on astrology, and I really can’t believe I typed all that out. But thank you for sharing my enthusiasm for it 💓 I promise I can talk about things other than astrology though, aha. The next time I send you a message it’ll be on a different topic for sure! Also, I have no idea if any parts duplicated/are missing because Tumblr made me wait an hour before I could send everything. So I hope everything shows up properly! (9/9) - 🌻

I don’t know if it’s just me – but it makes my DAY getting long asks.

I love reading people’s words because you can tell how much effort and joy the person has while writing something (whatever the topic is). Like high-key, I wait for your asks because they’re always so long and in-depth, and as someone who suffers from word vomit – I can appreciate the passion and overall love. So, you better not send me short asks – I will hold it against you 😂 LOOL I need an essay buddy~! 😉

I AM CLAIMING DIBS ON BEING YOUR FIRST CUSTOMER. You can read my whole soul damnit because while I totally agree with you that Astrology is a broad discipline with much material to learn and cover, you have a vast knowledge on the topic already. I can totally see you doing it! You explain things very well, and as I read, I find myself learning stuff, and as someone who loves learning – your attention to detail and how clear you are is much appreciated.

Trust me, I get that feeling of stress. Like even though I finished school, and I can relax for the summer because my summer classes got cancelled, being stuck at home is starting to get to me. I’m very much an ambivert (leaning towards introverted), and usually, being alone is my fav zone. Still, I do enjoy going for walks and staying active (even if it's solo activities #Idontdoteamworkandusuallyendedupplayingsoloevents). But the weather has been poor, and I think all my family and friends are starting to get cabin fever 😅. Are you done your classes for the semester yet, or do you still have time to go?

OUUU, I see that mix of Leo Scorpio. Gosh, you're so good at this stuff. I can ask you questions all day LOOL. Like that manipulative aspect is, no doubt in my mind, a Scorpio thing 🙈. Like I’m a Scorpio, and even I can admit it – we’re master manipulators (for better or worse). But I’m surprised by the Mai one! Not because I don’t agree, but because I couldn’t pin one down for her, but I think you nailed it. I’m excited to see if you change your opinions once you watch the show. Because something I notice that happens naturally as you age, is certain traits of the zodiac signs become more prominent or disappear. Because, unsurprisingly, first episode Zuko to comic books Zuko are pretty much two completely different characters. He went from ‘don’t touch me’ to starting every single hug in the comic books with Aang and Sokka, etc. (Soft Zuko does things to me 🤭).

SO, QUESTION – how does Yue’s Venus influence Zuko’s cancer, and how does Yue’s Libra’s energy influence Zuko’s Aries? Like I know, they influence each other, but I’m trying to find the right words, or examples, of it happening. Or ways to describe how they affect each other. I’m sorry if I’m not making any sense. I just – there’s so much to learn, and I want to know more and more 🤯

HANDS DOWN, I would not label you as a Taurus!

I was going to label you as a Libra (so I’m happy I got that one right, kind of), but I’m so shooketh about the Taurus. But I can’t agree with you more on the fact that while Taurus/Scorpio’s are opposites, if they put effort into the relationship, it's incredible. Because I think a lot of it stems from miscommunication. Like I believe communication is vital in any given relationship, obliviously, but certain signs need an extra sprinkle of it to work.

My sister just had a second baby, and her first baby is a Libra/Scorpio cusp, and the second girl is Scorpio, and her husband is also a Libra/Scorpio cusp. I had to laugh and say good luck raising two mini-mes! She’s like I shot myself in the foot LOOL 😂😂😂

And don’t worry about it, hunny! If I ever miss a part, I’ll send a post right away in search of your missing ones because I need your words 😉

#ask me anything #anon answered #zuko #atla #astrology #🌻#🌻 anon #sunflower anon

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jawnjendes · 6 years ago

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isn’t it obvious i’m a wreck | shawn mendes

university au, shawn x goth gf

AN: fun fact the song this fic is named after has the same name as one of shawns songs :P anyway, this one is a bit angsty, and continued from no medicine is strong enough so yh if u like this series blease let me know and blease feel free to reblog the masterlist :’)

masterlist | series playlist

Only rarely was I ever vocal about my pain. Go ahead, pretend to be shocked. I mask my hurt, angry, upset feelings with mannerisms and behaviors my therapist wouldn’t necessarily approve of. I’d clear my throat to keep from crying hysterically. I’d play video games on the couch to avoid thinking about whatever is shaking my world at the moment. I’d fuck my boyfriend to avoid talking about my feelings sometimes, I’ll admit it.

But this… This was something I could not put on a front for, even if I wanted to. I really did not want to put on a mask. Shawn had to see what was happening to me, he had to know what he created inside me. My knees went weak and I was on the floor in his bedroom, heavy tears welling in my eyes. Something like a scream erupted out of me, followed by several loud, uncontrollable sobbing. He didn’t even finish his anecdote before I pieced it together.

My insides went cold as ice but hot as lava at the same time. I felt like I was physically falling apart, like my limbs were going to come off, like my surgery stitches were going to pop, like my heart was going to fall out of my chest if I didn’t hold myself. I hunched over, my forehead hitting the carpet as I cried louder.

“I’m… so sorry,” Shawn mumbled from where he sat on the bed.

“No you’re not!” I yelled at him as I sat up, my voice shaky and incoherent. “You could have done… you could have done so many other things before… before…”

“I know…”

“No you don’t! If you knew you wouldn’t have done anything! If you knew, you could have just broken up with me instead of betray me!” Angry tears streamed down my face, blackened by my mascara. I looked as crazy as I felt, as crazy as I just became. “Who was she? Do you love her?”

“No!” Shawn replied, looking at the floor. He had a pained expression on his face. Pain he only brought to himself. “It was just a stupid mistake, I was-” He sighed.

“What?! Say it!”

He got to his feet, looking down at me. “I was mad, okay? I was angry because you refuse to tell me anything! Ever since you left the hospital, you’ve shut me out! You make it so hard for me to even look at you! You make it so hard for me to love you! You’re so difficult to deal with, it’s like you want me to leave!”

My hand went to my stomach, where I was cut open not that long ago. I could feel the thick, bumpy surgery scar under my shirt. I was practically botched, cut open like a pig at a slaughterhouse. It messed with my head for a bit, and I needed even more therapy for it. I have mild trauma from my time in the hospital and it gives Shawn an excuse to cheat on me? Where is the logic in that?

“You made the decision to go out, hit up some random girl, go home with her… and it’s my fucking fault!?” I screamed, standing up once again. No more tears, I actually wanted to punch him. “You betray me, you hurt me…” Okay, more tears. “You throw away everything we have, after it took so long for me trust you, and it’s my fault?”

It’s my fault! It’s my fault! Everything is my fault!

Shawn made big strides towards me, and he grabbed my arm. He was saying something to me, but I was crying so much it made my stomach hurt. His voice was gentle now, and he was shaking me slightly. I tried to yank myself away, how dare he touch me… His hands have been on someone else’s skin. How could he touch me?

“Honey…”

I closed my eyes and shook my head, not wanting to hear the nickname he gave to everybody. He probably gave her the same nickname. It made me feel incredibly sick, I actually wanted to vomit.

“Hey there, little fighter…”

My eyes opened again, only slightly. It was hard to keep my eyes from squinting, because it was suddenly very bright in the room. I also felt wildly sleepy, like I could slip into a permanent coma at any moment. I couldn’t process any of my surroundings, the only thing I was sure of was that I was sitting on a bed, lying at an angle, and someone was holding my right hand and grabbing my left arm.

After blinking a few times, I looked to my left and saw a blonde lady in green scrubs standing next to me. She had thick black frames on and a pen in her bun. She was poking at a machine next to my bed until she realized I was staring at her with a stupid look on my face.

“Hi there, how ya feeling?” she asked, smiling at me like I was toddler.

“Sad,” I replied in a whisper. My throat was incredibly dry. I coughed once. “I think my boyfriend cheated on me.”

“That boyfriend?” the lady asked, pointing across the bed.

I turned my head the other way, finding Shawn sitting at my bedside. He was holding my hand and looking at me like it was fucking Christmas or something.

“You’re too pretty to cheat,” I mumbled. “Only ugly men cheat.”

He chuckled, though his brow furrowed in mild confusion.

“I feel sick,” I announced. “My boyfriend cheated and I feel sick.”

The blonde lady nurse person quickly grabbed a silver bowl from a table that appeared out of nowhere, and she held it for me as I puked in it. She reassured Shawn that that was normal, it was just the anesthesia. Oh yeah, I had surgery.

I fell asleep after that. When I woke up again, the blonde lady was gone, but Shawn was still holding my hand. Now, I knew that was Shawn Mendes, the popular singing guy from the college I went to. I knew that I knew him on some level. But I just stared at him with groggy eyes while he scrolled on his phone with his free hand.

“You’re pretty,” I mumbled. “Are you single?”

He eyes flickered up to me, and a the corners of his mouth went up. “Huh?”

“Are you here with anyone?” I asked.

“Uh, my mom should be coming soon. Stella just left, though.”

“No, like, do you have a date or something? You taken? You’re so cute…”

“Yeah, I’m taken. By you. I’m your boyfriend.”

My eyes widened for the first time. That statement shocked me so much I fell back asleep.

Several things kept me awake in the days after my surgery. For one thing, a nurse came in every hour to check my vitals and my incision site, even at night. I heard Shawn singing to himself whenever I tried to nap. I was pretty sure either his mom, Stella, or both were talking in the room. I felt like I was either balls deep in a coma, or balls deep in insomnia.

Anyway, the surgery was successful. Part of my bowel was removed, and I had to be kept on a liquid diet for a while. I still had a fever that made me slightly delirious. It was like the morphine except my body wasn’t numb. Shawn was quite entertained by my delusions, because I talked way too much about things I normally wouldn’t talk about.

“Don’t tell anyone,” I said to him on day four of fever dreams, “but you’re my favorite person ever, and I’m so lucky to have you.”

He was leaning on the bed, elbows on the thin, lumpy mattress. He was smiling so wide you almost couldn’t notice the bags under his eyes. “Well, you’re my favorite person too, and I’ll tell anyone who will listen.”

“Must be nice to not be scared of your feelings.” I looked at his arm, the one with all the tattoos. Then, I looked at his face. “God, you make me so-”

“So what?” He took my hand in his, and he rubbed my fingers with his thumb. He had a hopeful look in his eyes, like I was going to confess my love for the very first time.

Before my lagging brain could say anything more, a nurse entered the room. Older lady with short grey hair, very smiley. I wasn’t sure what time of the day it was, time didn’t exist in these walls. Maybe it was early, since she was so smiley. Most nurses at night were cranky and sleepy.

“Morning, you two,” she said, walking over to check my vitals on the machines. “You feeling okay, sweetie?”

“I’m good,” I said. “My cut feels warm, though.”

That warm feeling turned out to be a surgical site infection. It was hot, it was red, it was the cause of my fever, and best of all, it smelled and secreted some nasty shit. Needless to say, my hospital stay extended five more days. I had to convince Shawn to go back to work. One of us had to stay busy. He always came back to sleep at the hospital so I wasn't alone.

In other news, I was excused and given full credit for my English final, thank god. No prior studying had been done on my part, so I got lucky. As for research methods, I just had to email my final essay to my professor. Academically, I didn’t have to stress anymore. Living wise, Stella was constantly texting me about which of my belongings should go in which boxes, and where I got my textbooks from because none of them were from the campus bookstore. I had to make Shawn go to campus to help her.

By the time I was properly discharged, all of my things were moved into Shawn’s apartment, and my car was in the parking lot. We stumbled through the front door only to see several boxes lined up on the floor along the wall. I was leaning on Shawn for support, but the hallway was now too crowded for two people.

“Fuck,” Shawn cursed under his breath. “Here, let’s do it this way.”

He moved so he was standing in front of me, and he took both of my hands. Slowly, but surely. I stumbled my way through the hallway, careful not to disturbed the five tiny but deep cuts on my belly. They were still numb from the Vicodin I was given, so it was only a matter of time before the pain kicked in.

“You wanna go to the bed or the couch?” he asked, frequently looking behind himself so as to not trip on anything.

“Couch,” I said, “I wanna watch TV.”

“Alright, here we go.”

Who knew getting to the couch would be so exhausting? I was sat on the soft white cushion in minutes, completely winded. Shawn handed me the remote and smiled.

“Need anything?”

I shook my head.

“Okay. I’m gonna go move those boxes. Let me know if you need anything.”

What I needed was to be useful. Those were my boxes, my belongings. I had to be responsible for them. But no, one wrong move, and I’ll bleed out on Shawn’s white couch.

I couldn’t even lift my legs up and lie down on my side, or reach the handle to recline the seat without straining myself. I could only listen to Shawn move things around, and I could only stare out the massive windows. I had successfully turned into a couch potato in less than five minutes.

Eventually, I settled for watching gaming videos on YouTube. I fell down the rabbit hole that is Legend of Zelda theories. I had nothing else to do, anyway.

Then, my phone went off next to me. I looked at the screen, reading the name of the alarm I had set. It went off every day for the last few months, but weirdly enough I didn't remember it going off while I was in the hospital. Then again, drugs and fever dreams.

The sight of my medication alarm made me gasp softly. I had to get off my birth control and Prozac. Lack of birth control was fine, it just meant that my period would remain irregular. Besides, it’s not like I was having sex at all, not that that’s the reason why I take birth control. Lack of antidepressants would have been bad had I not been on morphine and Vicodin to keep me loopy.

“Babe, can you find me my meds?" I called.

Within minutes, Shawn came over to where I was sitting with the orange bottle and foiled packaging in his hand. He set them down on the coffee table, and then I had to ask him to recline my seat for me. I felt dainty and needy, and not in a good way.

The last of the hospital’s drugs wore off by the time Shawn and I went to bed. The physical act of getting to bed was more strenuous, now that there was nothing numbing me. I had a moderately high pain tolerance, but this shit was enough to keep me awake. I dozed off for minutes at at time before waking up again. Meanwhile, Shawn had knocked out the second his head hit the pillow. He had been moving my boxes into the spare room/his recording studio all day, and he had been running around getting me to the bathroom and walking me around the apartment so I didn’t turn into a full on potato. On top of that, he hadn’t slept much while I was at the hospital. He needed it more than me.

When sleep finally came to me, Shawn took my hand from under the sheets. I was too tired to squeeze it, let him know I was there.

I was up and running in the afternoon. Shawn had to work until the evening, so his mom came and stayed with me. Yes, I internally freaked out. Yes, I spoke to her while I was admitted, but I wasn't alone with her until now.

Karen was more persistent about getting me to my feet, so she took me on walks up and down the hallway of the floor this apartment was on. I felt winded every time, but I knew I needed it.

“So, when are your parents coming?” she asked, not for the first time.

“In the next couple of days,” I replied between huffs of breath. “They got my texts this morning, they’re working on flying over here.”

“Okay, good. I can’t wait to meet them.”

I feigned a smile. While I did miss my mom and dad, I was very nervous about their arrival. Not only was this going to be a belated hospital visit, this was also the first time they would be meeting Shawn and his family. Lowkey, I wanted to die. Lowkey, I’d rather be under the scalpel again.

Karen and I talked some more as we strolled through the corridor. I was able to finally tell her things about me that didn’t have to do with my illness. I told her about my goal of getting my Bachelors in psychology, and how much I loved my dealership job. You know, things your boyfriend’s mom would like to hear.

“Do you plan on staying in Toronto when you finish college?” she asked.

“I haven’t fully decided yet,” I said, “but it’s not off the table.”

“I imagine you’d like to keep living with Shawn if you stay.”

For once, I hesitated. It made me nervous. Was I supposed to be outwardly obsessed with her son, say I’d love nothing more than to be at his side all the time? I didn’t know how to sugar coat serious things like that, so I decided to be honest.

“Maybe. I mean, I’m only here because I had surgery and can’t travel.” I’m supposed to be home. “The only plan I have is to work in my field of study until I can open my own practice, wherever that may be. But I do love it here in Toronto, and I… I love Shawn.”

His mother was looking ahead as we walked, but she smiled at my sentiment. She was quiet, though, which prompted me to keep rambling.

“Like, if he and I are still together when we graduate, then yeah, we could live together. Properly, y’know, not while I’m recovering from surgery.”

Karen nodded in approval. “You’re realistic. That’s good. It’s good for him as well.”

I internally relaxed. Finally, a rational mom.

“You know Shawn is happy with you, right?” she said to me. “I’m sure he tells you, but I think you need to hear it from someone outside the relationship.”

“Really?” I asked. I felt a hint of doubt in my mind, but I wasn’t sure why. Karen was right, Shawn did tell me all his thoughts and feelings all the time. I just had the smallest feeling that maybe I was being lied to.

“Oh yes. The day he took you out on a first date, he told me… ‘Mum, I have a really good feeling about her. I haven’t felt this way about anyone before.’ He was over the moon, and he still is.”

My cold ass heart jumped for joy. I let myself believe I wasn’t being lied to.

Karen had to leave about an hour before Shawn was off his shift, meaning I had to be a couch potato for that long. It wasn’t a problem as long as I didn’t have to use the bathroom, and not much was getting into my system these days. After the liquid diet from the hospital, I was put on a “soft” diet. Most of what I ate was bananas, applesauce, and white rice. Oh, and soup. So much soup. Neither Shawn nor I cooked, so he always brought me soup or pasta from a shop downtown.

Shawn had decided to eat soft foods with me so I wouldn’t feel alone. But I knew he was most likely devouring whatever fast food was nearby his flower shop. I knew because I would probably do the same damn thing.

“Okay, they were out of chicken noodle,” he called as he entered the apartment, “but they had broccoli and cheddar, I know you like that!”

He made it to the couch, sat next to me, and kissed me on the cheek. Then, he set the brown paper bag down on the coffee table. He carefully took out the large styrofoam cup, but paused when he saw what I had on the TV.

“Thought you would have had enough of hospitals by now,” he commented, his chipper mood suddenly turned.

I shrugged. “Grey’s is comforting.”

Shawn sat back with my soup and handed it to me. “Can we watch something else?”

“Aw, don’t you wanna watch Lexie kick the can again?” I joked, giggling.

For whatever reason, he wasn’t amused. “Please. Change it.”

My laughter immediately died down. Then, I grabbed the remote and switched to The Office. “Sorry.”

Shawn had been hovering ever since I was admitted to the hospital. He frequently asked how my incisions were doing, if I felt faint, or if I needed anything at all. His hand was on my forehead more than it was sweetly cupping my cheek. He stayed by my side every minute. The only other thing he did was work at the flower shop. I wasn’t even sure if he had met up with Teddy for songwriting lately.

“How was work?” I asked him, nudging his side.

“I’ve seen too many roses today,” he replied, lying his head back on the cushion. “We have so many options, but everyone just wants roses. Or daisies.”

“Thought you liked roses.”

“Yeah, but when you see as many flowers as I do... “

“I wish I could go visit you,” I told him. “I’ve never actually seen where you work.”

“Mm, it’s a small place with a lot of light. Might be too out of your comfort zone.”

I made a face. Confused, but also mildly annoyed. Instead of snapping at him, I remained patient. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He picked up his head again and looked at me. “I’m just worried about you, my little fighter.”

“Well, I’ll be able to work again in ten days, and I’m on a soup diet. I just can’t travel on a plane or anything yet.” More specifically, I couldn’t go back home. I tried to adjust myself so I could look at Shawn properly, but a certain sting on my abdomen kept me still. “Have you sang lately? Do you have any gigs booked?”

Shawn looked at the TV and shook his head. “I couldn’t go even if I had one. I’ve got a sick girlfriend here, after all.”

Maybe I was already going crazy from the impending cabin fever, but that kinda hurt. A sting of guilt when through my chest. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.” He changed the subject. “So, some of my friends are asking about you. They wanna come visit.”

The guilt only increased. Lately, I’ve been a lot more vulnerable than I was comfortable with. I was practically helpless in front of my boyfriend, who had only seen me as strong and independent up until my bowel crapped out on me. This was different territory, and I didn't like it.

“Not while I’m like this,” I said sheepishly. It wasn’t the first time I turned away visitors. I only allowed Shawn, Stella, and Karen to see me at the hospital.

“That’s okay,” Shawn replied. “Whenever you’re ready, you got people.”

Normally he would press the topic. In the earlier stages of our relationship, it was hard to come around to meeting Shawn’s friends. Almost none of them were expecting someone like Shawn to date someone like me. As always, I was my quiet and mysterious self, and it was a little off putting to them. Not to mention, my small reputation of sleeping around had gotten to some of them in the past. It was frowned upon when it was me, but if I recall correctly, my boyfriend used to be the exact same way. However, Shawn always gave me a push to be more engaging and reminded me to give people a chance, but this time he just let me have my way.

I was wide awake that night, and it wasn’t from my surgery pain.

It’s been two days since I was discharged. A week and a half since my surgery. Stella flew home to Florida without saying goodbye, and I was still stuck on not having any other visitors. I didn’t even tell my own friends, like the guys from my video game club. Most of them probably went home for the summer anyway. Now, Shawn was acting weird. Was he mad at me because I was keeping him from his music? Was he upset that I was taking up space in his apartment?

I turned my head to look at his sleeping figure. The moonlight shone in through the window, so I could barely make out the features of his body. For once, he didn’t look tense or stressed. He kept a physical distance from me, though. We couldn’t spoon like normal because I couldn’t lay on my side. Last night he still made the effort to hold my hand. Never had I wanted to turn to him and stroke his curly hair more than I did tonight.

Shawn suddenly twitched in his sleep. Not dramatically, but just enough to catch my attention. He was lying on his front, head facing me. He twitched again, and let out a small noise. It was a monotonous hum, lasted a good five seconds.

Delicately, I placed my hand on his bare shoulder. It was a little awkward because I couldn’t physically turn my body towards him, but I was still able to touch him.

Another groan left his mouth, distressed. Then, he yelped and twitched, now a little more spastic. He gasped and groaned into his pillow, so I gently shook him.

“Hey, hey babes. Wake up,” I said weakly. “Please wake up.”

Shawn woke with one final jerk of his shoulder. Panting, he turned onto his back and placed his hands over his face. “Fuck… Oh, fuck…”

“You’re okay,” I told him, touching his arm. “It’s okay. Just a dream, it’s okay.”

He took my hand and kissed my knuckles, all while trying to control his breath. Then he turned his body towards me. “I love you.” His voice shook in a way that made my heart ache.

I only returned the pressure on his hand, watching his face. It was probably for the best that I couldn’t see the exact expression he had on. I really hated seeing him in distress.

“I need to hear you say it,” he pleaded, holding my hand to his chest. “I need to hear your voice.”

“Shawn-”

“Please...”

“I love you. You know I love you,” I told him gently. “Do… do you wanna talk about what just happened?”

He shook his head. “No. No, I just wanted to hear your voice for a minute. I love you so much.”

That wouldn’t be the only night he would yell in his sleep and wake up shaking. That kept me up more than any surgical pain.

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes smut #fourtristattoosspring #shawn x goth gf #oh yeah abt that beginning part #i didnt want it to be canon canon ya feel???#i played with the idea but i Did Not want that to be their demise #BUT I RLY WANTED TO WRITE IT SO THERE #its a fever dream lmfao #and no she does not remember it #she remembers the feeling of utter betrayal but shes not sure Where she remembers it from ygm?#so yeah theres that explanation lol #time to scream at the video games now gnight everybody

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hillywooddestiel · 5 years ago

Text

Stranger Things Have Happened- Chaper Twelve

Chapter Twelve: Scatter and Run

Characters: Y/N Winchester, Hopper, Joyce, Nancy, Jonathan, Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Eleven, Steve, Sam, Dean

Warnings: angst, language

Word count: 1.7k

Series description: Hawkins, Indiana, November 1983. The Winchesters got out of hunting and decided to settle down in a small town. The youngest of the three, Y/N, just wants to get on with her somewhat normal life and go to a good college. But that’s a little tricky when disappearances start occurring, including her friend Barbara Holland, and there’s reports of a mysterious new girl in town. Can she balance boyfriends, teen drama and monster hunting?

A/N: What’s this? STHH? A new part? Who is she? Since the new series I am on a bit of a Stranger Things kick so I hope to finish this series soon. How good is S3??? Love it!!! Obviously this is S1 so this is a safe series to read. Enjoy xx Series Masterlist Masterlist

Story:

We empty bag after bag of salt into a kid’s paddling pool then fill it full of water. Dustin and Lucas take charge of the temperature until we reach exactly 93.5° Fahrenheit, yelling to Nancy to change the taps every minute. I go to source towels from somewhere, eventually finding a couple in the coach's office. They smell a little funky but seem clean so they'll do the job. When I return, Eleven is talking to Joyce. The poor girl is trembling, eyes fixed on the large pool of still water in the same way Sam looks at clowns- true fear. I do wish my brothers were here. They would be a great help in this crazy situation. Sam would read up on alternative universes and missing people cases in the town. Dean would prepare all of the tools we need for the hunt and lecture me about staying safe, following his rules and, most importantly, not going off on my own. I would do anything and everything I was allowed to do when Dean was watching (and a whole lot more when he wasn't). It would be just like old times.

Socks rolled down and goggles in hand, Eleven wades into the water holding on tightly to Joyce's hand. Her dress billows around her as she takes a seat, adjusting the goggles on her face to block out any light. The lights flicker and the gym goes dark. Eleven floats on the surface of the salty water while the rest of us sit in silence. The static from the radio is almost deafening, it keeps me on edge.

“Barbara…” Eleven mumbles, the lights pulsating.

“What's going on?”

“I don't know.” Mike replies to Nancy's question.

“Is Barb okay? Is she okay?”

“Gone. Gone.” Eleven says, tears building in Nancy's eyes. Jonathan pulls her for a hug, whispering small comforts in her ear. Barb is gone. Dead. My friend, who was still getting to know, is dead just like many other people before her who got close to me or my family. Of course, I can't pin the whole situation on myself; as far as we know this parallel universe has appeared here as a coincidence and has nothing to do with Sam, Dean or myself.

“It's okay, it's okay honey. I'm here, it's okay.” Joyce holds onto Eleven in the water while keeping her in her trance. “It's okay, I'm right here. I'm right here.” Everything calms once again and we return to silence around the pool, all hope pinned on Will still being alive. Nancy sniffles, the tears falling quietly now and I reach my hand out to hers. I smile weakly as a show of support; she's going to be grieving her friend unable to tell the truth to anyone outside of this room.

“Castle Byers.” Eleven says making Joyce and Jonathan perk up, “Will?”

“You tell him… you tell him I'm coming. Mom is coming.” Joyce gasps, full of relief.

“Your mom, she's coming for you.” Eleven communicates to Will. The radio crackles and the voice of a scared little boy comes through,

“Hurry.”

“You tell him, tell him to stay where he is. I'm coming.”

“Your mom, she's coming. Just hold on a little longer Will. Will! Will!” Eleven stirs herself back to full consciousness, ripping the goggles from her head and clinging to Joyce for dear life.

“It's okay. It's okay honey, I've got you. I've got you.”

Wrapped tightly in several towels, Eleven sits shivering on the gym seats with Mike, Lucas, Dustin and myself. For someone so small, she is incredibly powerful. Mike tells me of how she rescued him at the cliffs from a group of bullies while she hugs into my side to keep warm.

“That's incredible!” I exclaim. Eleven looks to me with sleepy eyes with a slight smile, resting her head on my side to take a well deserved nap. Hopper and Joyce having a domestic outside tears my attention away from the boys’ stories.

“He's my son Hop! My son. I'm going!”

“‘Scuse me a second guys.” I deposit Eleven on Mike's shoulder and jog to catch up with everyone outside.

“Joyce! Let's go!” Hopper yells from his car, “No! You're not coming.” He points a finger harshly at me before getting in.

“You've got to be kidding me! Who says you get to go and not me?”

“I do! You're staying here where it's safe. Joyce is already coming, I can't risk you too kid.”

“But-”

“I said no! Get back inside.” And with that, Chief Hopper floors it out of the school. I watch the car disappear, deliberating running home for my own car and chasing after them. Sam and Dean will probably ask questions if I leave the house with a bunch of guns and gear- maybe that's not such a good idea. Then again, they could be a great help here. No. They chose to leave the life, this isn't on them; just because they know about this stuff doesn't mean they should be forced to jump in and save the day. I just happen to be wrapped up in it a little bit.

Jonathan is gone when I turn back around to head into the gym and he's nowhere to be seen inside either. I go over to the kids and ask them where he went.

“He was with Nancy.” Mike explains.

“Well I can't find either of them.”

“What?!” Mike jumps up and speed walks outside, myself following quicky behind. He looks around the grounds, releasing an exasperated sigh before going back in.

“They're gone!”

“What?”

“Nancy and Jonathan. His car's gone.” Mike explains. Ah, I didn't notice that small detail.

“They're probably just sucking face somewhere.” Dustin comments, being delightful as always.

“No. No way.” Mike argues and he's probably right; those two are just friends that have been mixed up in a case. Nothing more.

“Did they go with the Chief?”

“I don't know.”

“No.” Eleven says taking us all by surprise.

“What? Did you see them? Do you know where they went?” Mike asks frantically.

“Yes.”

“Where? Where did they go?”

“...Demogorgon.” Shit! No time to even think, I take off in a run.

“Y/N, where are you going?” Dustin shouts after me.

“To go stop them!”

I have not run like this in months so by the time I reach the end of my street, I am close to passing out- maybe I should have taken Sam up on his offer of joining him running last week. Dean pokes his head out of the kitchen when he hears me come through the door, his face contorted in annoyance.

“Umm, where have you been?”

“Nancy's. Is it cool if I stay over there tonight?”

“You've been out all day without a word to either of us. No, clean up and come have dinner.”

“But she’s been super down about Barb all day. She really needs me to be there for her.” The words taste sour, using Barb like this to manipulate Dean. I’m so sorry Barb, I can only hope you understand.

“Can’t you call her?”

“What’s going on?” Sam joins the party. Great. Just great. “I need to be there for her in person Dean, she is upset and needs someone. Don’t forget Barb was my friend too.”

“Dean, let her go.” Sam sighs, looking sympathetically at me.

“But she-”

“Dean.” Sam gives Dean a look I can only describe as a mother scolding her child, “Tell Nancy we said hey.”

“Fine, you can go. But you better be back for dinner tomorrow.”

“I promise. Thanks Dean.” I smile as best I can before hurrying upstairs and grabbing my emergency hunting kit from under my bed. I have a feeling I know where Nancy went with Jonathan. I hope I'm right.

Jonathan's car is parked outside his house when I finally pull up- why they choose to live so far out of town I'll never know. And Steve's car is here. Steve? He gets out and scuffs his feet all the way to the front door, bashing on it and leaning against the frame. What is he doing here? Seriously, what the hell? Nancy answers the door, opening it very slightly. She looks stressed out; she looks even more stressed than when Ms. Amon sprang that surprise history quiz on us that would contribute to our final grade. I thought she was going to vomit at her desk. So why would she be looking like that towards Steve? They better not have come up with some stupid death wish mission to help the chief. Steve pushes his way inside and I can hear them all raise their voices from the car. Go time.

Taking Dean's gun from my duffel bag, I stalk my way to the house (yes, I took it again but he doesn't need it right now). The walls are super thin so their conversation is loud and clear from here.

“Okay, is this a joke? Stop! Put the gun down!” Nancy what the fuck are you doing?! Hastily, I kick the door down with my booted foot, the wood splintering and smacking the wall. Steve, Nancy and Jonathan swivel their heads to look at me, eyes full of fear and shock.

“Is that gasoline?” I sniff the air.

“Y/N?!” Steve screeches, his face still a bloody, beat-up mess from earlier.

“Y/N what are you doing here?” Nancy asks and I'm sure it's accidental that age ends up pointing her gun at me.

“Nancy…” Jonathan mutters, going unnoticed in the cacophony of confusion.

“You two just left me behind with the kids, what was I meant to do?”

“What are you guys talking about?! And can you please put the guns down.” Steve stresses, arms raised at each of us as though they'll stop bullets.

“You need to leave, Steve.”

“Nancy.”

“No no no no wait no!”

“Nancy!”

“What, Jonathan?”

“The lights!”

STHH Tags

@marslovesme @bluedefundead @elenavaldez09 @mysanityisgone27 @adridedong @princess-of-erebor1992 @coffeeandwinchesters

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