#ok i'm going back to sleep now i'm to sick (physical and emotional) to be thinking about this in any great depth anymore
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aventurineswife · 3 months ago
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Ratio, Dan heng, Jiaoqiu, Aventurine and Anaxa with a reader who got sick and now can't do anything strenuous cuz they can't take deep breaths and whenever they hug them, they can feel their chest wheezing when they inhale and they can also hear their strained breathing trying to breathe normally (yes I'm suffering inside...)
I wanna see them soothing their s/o with chest + back rubs (cuddles galoreee), feeding them any homemade recipes to soothe them and medicine too. Maybe scolding s/o whenever they forget to take medicine at the right time and reassuring them whenever it gets bad (coughing), promising them that it's gonna be ok and get better eventuallyđŸ©”
🍼
A Promise of Healing
Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Dan Heng x Reader, Jiaoqiu x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff & Angst, Cuddles Galore, Protective Partner, Soft Domestic Moments, Sick Reader, Back Rubs & Chest Rubs, Homemade Remedies, Reassurance, Scolding for Self-Care Neglect, Gentle Caregiving, Emotional Support.
Warnings: Depictions of illness and strained breathing (reader-specific), Slight angst (due to the reader’s condition and their frustrations), Possible emotional distress from the reader feeling vulnerable or helpless, Mild scolding (out of love), Comfort-heavy scenes with physical touch, Contains soft romantic moments.
A/N: I hope you get well by the time this fic comes out đŸ«‚đŸ«¶đŸ’–
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Ratio’s intense eyes studied you as you struggled to take even, steady breaths. He crouched beside you, his wavy hair falling into his face. "How many times," he began with an edge of exasperation, "must I remind you to follow your regimen? You’re brilliant, but even brilliance can’t excuse negligence."
You opened your mouth to respond, but a fit of wheezing overtook you, your body trembling as you tried to steady yourself. Immediately, his tone softened, and he guided you gently to sit on the couch, his hands supporting you as he positioned you against his chest. "Lean on me," he said quietly.
He rubbed circles on your back, his touch calculated and firm, his other hand trailing over your chest in soothing, rhythmic motions. “Your lungs are working too hard. You need to focus on shorter breaths—don't force it.” His voice was soothing now, like an anchor keeping you grounded.
As your breathing steadied, Ratio reached for the bowl of soup he had prepared earlier, infused with an assortment of herbs known for their restorative properties. “I’ve designed this specifically to soothe your respiratory tract. It may not be as groundbreaking as my usual work, but its efficacy is indisputable,” he said, holding the spoon up to your lips.
When you hesitated, embarrassed by your dependence, he raised a brow. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’d lecture me if I neglected my health. Now open your mouth.” You complied, savoring the warmth of the soup.
Later that evening, when you forgot to take your prescribed medicine, Ratio’s sharp voice rang through the quiet of your shared home. "Do I have to personally supervise you every hour?" he scolded, pulling you gently into his arms. Yet, his lips brushed your temple. "You’re going to recover, love. I won’t allow anything else. I’ll see to it myself."
You drifted to sleep against him, soothed by the rhythm of his hand on your back and the quiet strength of his presence.
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Jiaoqiu’s hands, soft yet steady, traced soothing lines down your back as you struggled to catch your breath. His sharp ears twitched at the sound of your wheezing, and though his eyes remained closed, his expression was full of concern. “I told you not to push yourself,” he said softly, his voice laced with gentle reproach.
You tried to apologize, but the effort to speak only triggered a coughing fit. Jiaoqiu immediately shifted closer, his tail curling around the both of you protectively. “Shh, don’t speak. Just focus on breathing slowly. I’m here,” he murmured, his tone like a balm.
He adjusted your position so you were reclining against his chest, one hand continuing its comforting motion across your back while the other cradled your side. "I know it’s frustrating," he said quietly, "but healing takes time. You can’t rush it. Trust me—I’ve been through worse, and I’m still here, aren’t I?"
Once you’d calmed, he reached for a steaming bowl of congee he had prepared earlier. “Here. It’s my own recipe. The herbs I added should help you feel less strained.” Carefully, he guided the spoon to your lips, his patience infinite.
When you forgot to take your medicine later, Jiaoqiu sighed deeply, his fox ears drooping. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself, love. I may not be able to see, but I can hear your struggles. Every wheeze, every cough—it pains me more than you realize.” He found your hand and pressed it to his chest, his voice trembling just slightly. “You’re going to get through this. You have to. Not just for yourself, but for me.”
He held you close that night, whispering soft reassurances until you fell asleep, his hands never ceasing their gentle rubs across your back.
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Dan Heng’s sharp eyes darted toward you as you clutched your chest, struggling to breathe. In an instant, he was by your side, his usually stoic demeanor softening with concern. "You’re pushing yourself again," he said quietly, though there was no mistaking the worry in his voice.
He helped you settle on the bed, his arms guiding you with care. “Lie back,” he instructed, placing one hand on your chest to feel your strained breathing and the other on your back, rubbing slow, steady circles. “You need to relax. I know it’s hard, but panicking will only make it worse.”
His voice was calm, grounding you as he leaned closer, his presence reassuring. When your breathing steadied, he retrieved a small bowl of tea infused with medicinal herbs he’d prepared earlier. “Drink this. It will help soothe your lungs.”
You hesitated, and Dan Heng’s brows furrowed. “You need to stop being so stubborn. I’m not going to let you suffer when there’s something I can do to help.” His tone was firm but gentle, and you couldn’t help but comply.
Later, when he caught you skipping a dose of your medicine, he fixed you with a rare frown. “You’re not invincible, no matter how much you want to believe you are,” he said, his voice tinged with frustration. But when he saw the guilt in your eyes, he sighed, his expression softening.
He pulled you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I know it’s hard. But you’re going to get better. I’ll make sure of it. You just need to trust me—and yourself.”
That night, he held you close, his hands never leaving your back, the steady rhythm of his breathing lulling you into a peaceful sleep.
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Aventurine’s eyes glinted with a mix of concern and frustration as he caught you clutching your chest, your breathing labored. “Now, now,” he said, his voice smooth but tinged with worry. “What did I tell you about overexerting yourself?”
He guided you to the couch, his hands surprisingly gentle as he adjusted your position to lean against him. “There, take slow breaths. I’ve got you.” His fingers worked expertly over your back and chest, the soothing motions designed to ease your discomfort. “You’ve got to stop scaring me like this, darling. It’s bad for my heart.”
When your breathing settled, Aventurine reached for the broth he’d prepared, its aroma rich and comforting. “Now, this is a special recipe,” he said with a teasing smile. “Made with love and a dash of sheer brilliance. Eat up, or I’ll be offended.”
Later, when you forgot to take your medicine, Aventurine’s usual charm gave way to exasperation. “Do you enjoy making me worry? Because you’re doing an excellent job of it,” he said, crossing his arms. But his frustration melted as he cupped your face, his voice softening. “Listen to me. I’ve gambled with a lot of things in my life, but I’m not willing to gamble with your health. Promise me you’ll be more careful.”
He pulled you into his lap, his hands resuming their comforting motions across your back. “You’re going to get through this, love. I’ll make sure of it. After all, I’ve never lost a bet when it comes to you.”
That night, he held you close, his warmth and quiet reassurances banishing your fears as you drifted off to sleep in his arms.
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yaoi-hate-machine · 2 months ago
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ohhhh god i need some moral support re: animal welfare and having difficult conversations with difficult people
ok basically i feel the need to tell my mom that this foster dog cannot continue to stay here. and things are already Very tense between us and i fear she's going to blow up at me like she usually does when anyone pushes back against her.
i've seen one of our dogs ("my" dog echo) snap at this foster dog twice now. it seems like she's being protective of me. she has also just not been doing well since i was out of town for a few weeks; she stopped eating breakfast which is extremely unlike her and she's been throwing up and having other digestive issues. i attribute this to my mom physically not being able to walk her and not taking the time to go outside with her to play because she's very high energy and gets anxious when her exercise and enrichment needs aren't met.
so like. echo was already not being cared for and ill because of that. and my mom decided to foster this young adult dog who she has sleeping literally right next to echo, who has not been around another dog besides the other dog in the house in at least a year, and there has literally Never been a third dog inside the house before. echo keeps barking at this foster dog and he seems to be afraid of her.
i just 1. personally feel Extremely stressed about being downstairs and worrying that echo is going to snap at him or start a fight, 2. feel that this is so unfair to echo who is already stressed out to the point of being sick because she's not being cared for properly, and now is extra stressed out about a random dog in her space, and 3. feel that this is so unfair to the foster dog who will likely develop some kind of reactivity or fear of other dogs if he continues being around echo.
my mom is likely going to assume that i'm making this up because she hasn't seen echo snap at him and because i've been very upset at her due to the way she failed to communicate properly with me about any of this. i'm also just already having a cptsd emotional flashback bc of the tension between us so i feel intensely afraid of having this conversation and her reaction. she does Not respond well to being wrong or being called out on her mistakes/behavior. but i'm just not willing to stay silent and compliant while literally everyone else in the situation suffers. i can't keep betraying myself by fawning.
i'm torn between being passive or assertive in the convo. my heart is saying that i should be assertive because she has a tendency to steamroll, but my brain knows that esp with the tension that's already between us re: this specific situation, she will most likely register my assertiveness as combativeness and blow up or shut down. so i guess i should probably try to be gentler about it even tho i don't feel like being gentle. idk if i should come right out and say that he can't be here anymore to be clear in my communication or if i should just tell her about echo snapping at him and then saying that i don't think he should be here anymore?
i am also 100% prepared to contact the shelter directly and tell them about this, but i know my mom would be furious about this. i feel like "either you can tell them or i will" is my fail-safe if she's not receptive, but like. she would likely murder me. ok i need to stop saying things like that. she is not going to murder me. there are ways that she can hurt me but none of them are life-threatening. she can make me Feel like i'm in danger, but i am an adult who can protect and advocate for myself.
ok just to help myself i'm gonna do a little scripting below. feel free to lmk how it sounds/if you have any suggestions (basically i'm fucking autistic and having high-stress and urgent conversations like this is literally the bane of my existence)
"so i've seen echo snap at him twice now. the first time was the first full day he was here when i came downstairs in the morning, and it happened again a couple hours ago. it seems like echo is stressed out about him being here, which i can understand because she hasn't socialized with other dogs in a long time and there's never been another dog in her space. And she's clearly not feeling well, it's unheard of for her to refuse to eat and she's been throwing up. and he is definitely nervous around her in the house, he'll tuck his tail and shrink himself down when she's sniffing him. i personally feel really nervous about being downstairs now because it seems like echo's being protective of me. it's very likely that he'll become afraid of other dogs if it keeps happening, and it's also very likely that echo will become aggressive with other dogs if she continues feeling like he's a threat. i really don't think this is a good situation for either of them and i think that if you really want to help this dog, it would be best to call anderson and have them find another foster. i know you really wanted this to work out, but it just seems like bad timing and i'm really worried about their interactions having lasting effects on either or both of them. like i said, i'm also just really stressed about it and we had just talked about how stressed out and overwhelmed i am at home."
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alaydabug2 · 10 months ago
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Yeah so I decided to take a happy song and make it sad again 🙂
Enjoy â˜ș
(Keefe pov)
"Come on," Ro groaned. "Are you really not going to tell her?"
"No! Stop bugging me." Keefe turned around in his chair. "She's with Fitz. She's happy. If she wants him, who am I to tell her otherwise?"
"Don't you think you should at least let her know that she has another option."
"No. I'm not going to do that to her. That's going to complicate things, and I can't lose her."
Keefe sighed and went back to trying to draw the scene he was working on. It was when he had pranked his father the other day, covering him with goo.
"You've already lost her," Ro muttered. "She's with Captain Perfect."
"Ok and? That's none of my business. I need to stay out of it."
She rolled her eyes and stalked off.
-------------------------------
"I can't believe it!" Keefe faked his smile. "I'm proud of you, dude. Finally manned up and proposed."
The war was over. It had been for quite a few years now. Sophie and Fitz had stayed together through it all. He didn't want his friends to hurt, but that small, extremely selfish part of him hoped that they'd break up. Give one more chance for him to shoot his shot. It never came.
"Thanks." Fitz's grin was so elated and genuine, Keefe felt awful for being jealous. Not that he'd ever tell him that.
He was happy for his friends. He truly was. But the emotional turmoil in his heart...
But... he was too late. And he knew that. The only thing he could do now was grit his teeth through it all and pretend he didn't feel his heart breaking apart every time he saw them together. Keep his tears in until he was safe in his room and cry himself to sleep.
It was torture. But he could do it. He'd been doing it for fifteen years at that point.
No, he couldn't....
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Day of the wedding came. Ro had come to visit for it. Instead of the gloating he was expecting for never saying anything, there was a soft look on her face.
"You alright?" She asked.
Keefe shrugged. He adjusted his tie. "I'm ok," he lied.
"No, you're not."
"I'm happy for them," he insisted.
"That's not what I asked." She moved closer. "I asked if you were alright."
He cleared the thickness from his throat. "I have to be. I'm the best man."
Ro pursed her lips. She let out a sigh. "Ok, then. If you say so."
He played off the water in his eyes during the ceremony as tears of joy. They were anything but. He forced his lips into a smile. He had to make it through the ceremony. He couldn't have a breakdown at his best friend's wedding over the girl he was marrying because he loved her.
Gosh, he loved her. It physically hurt to watch. A constant beating to his heartstrings.
Then, it was announced for the bride and groom to kiss. Oh, he couldn't watch. It made him feel sick.
He had to, though. Had to pretend it was all alright. Cause he couldn't let all that hard work of pretending for years go down the drain. Two very important friendships depended on it.
He still couldn't stomach it, though.
The reception was next. He found a quiet table to sit at far off in the corner. In the distance, Sophie and Fitz were having their first dance. He could feel the waves of joy coming off of Sophie from where he was sitting.
They were happy.
That's what he had to keep reminding himself to keep him sane. They were happy.
He picked one of the dandelions out of the vase on the table. He gently blew on it. He stopped himself when he was about to make his wish.
For so many years, he would wish for Sophie to miraculously change her mind. But... that ship had sailed. It was hopeless now.
Instead, he wished he could get over his feelings. But he knew there was no hope for that either.
He could feel his composure breaking. A stray tear fell down his cheek. He smudged it away and fled to the bathroom.
He could only make it to lock himself in a stall before breaking out into heavy sobs.
All hope was gone. The girl he loved was with his best friend and he couldn't do anything to change that.
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femmefatalevibe · 2 years ago
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So there's this coworker and friend of mine 23F and we have been hooking up since April this year for now at least. And all I keep getting are mixed signals (either that or maybe I'm imagining). We text daily sending memes, small talk, explicit talk, checking in on each other if sick etc. And lately I've realized that got attached to him. And I hate that I got attached to him. Nowadays we do text everyday but just not frequently and I don't like that. I know we are both adults with busy lives but it happens if you're attached. Earlier if I didn't text back for some hours he'd be like "oh ok you're ignoring me good" and now he rarely tells me that. How do I detach myself from him. Maybe he's talking to other potential love interests and even if I feel physically sick to even think about it I know he will leave me despite all this. He's even asked me one day "did you sleep with anyone after you started being with me, ig you don't need sex from other men since you're getting it from me". I didn't give him a direct answer although I hadn't been with anyone. And the previous time we hooked up he was like" do you want to go on a trip with me to XYZ place" and while dropping me home discussed how to plan leaves for it and not a talk about it since then. I feel like I should give up because I don't want to get replaced and this is a FWB thing so maybe I'm reading it all wrong. Please give me your honest advice on the situation.
Hi love.
Firstly, like you said, you're both adults and need to better communicate with each other what you're feeling, your intentions with this dynamic, and what you want the future of this dynamic to look like. In my opinion, FWB requires a boyfriend-girlfriend level of communication when it comes to how you feel about/move forward with the relationship. The difference is you're both fully single and are free to do as you please. However, if one party gets attached and the feeling isn't mutual or you find out a partner isn't respecting the "ground rules" you've mutually set (e.g. condom use, trying to sleepover when you find that too intimate, name-dropping others they've slept with recently [immediately/consistently], etc.). Deciding on exclusivity with a FWB requires an adult conversation. Otherwise, you need to mentally be single even if you give them your full attention in the moment when you're with them/they're your "fallback" hookup/partner, so it's normal for them to be a priority or top choice among those you're dating/hooking up with (not the same thing, of course).
My first instinct is to say to end it if a FWB is taking this much of your emotional energy, and he's already a co-worker, which makes it an even better reason to close this chapter. It sounds like you're both too possessive in this FWB situation (totally normal to happen for some people/certain situations), so I would have a direct chat with him about how you're getting mixed signals, so you can end it on an amicable, mature note.
Hope this helps xx
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deleteddewewted · 4 years ago
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Incel!Shinsou x F!Reader fanfic idea (Part 2)
So here we are, Incel!Shinsou is back and this time with a bit of growth that he needs to make independently (While thinking about the reader of course. Thank you so much to @blossominglark for sending in such a lovely message! Also here you can find a small explanation as to why i even started the Incel!Shinsou series.)
"I think I want you. I think you're bad. I think you're good, it's like the love I never had. I think I need you. Oh God, it's true. I think I'm falling and there's nothing I can do" - Beetlejuice Chill by Life After Youth
Part 1: Incel! Shinsou x F!Reader
Part 3: Incel!Shinsou x F!Reader (1/2)
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How difficult could it be? To forget that you ever existed... thats what's haunting Shinsou ever since the conversation you two had a few days ago. He cant seem to focus anymore, everything just reeks of you. (His own bedroom where you two would sit on the floor and work on your project together. You would laugh at something that came on the television, every time resulting in his face heating up and heart beating harder at the sound, the beautiful sound, of your laughter. It doesn't feel the same anymore. He cant sit or sleep there anymore.) Shinsou starts speaking with Aizawa more, to be honest its not like Aizawa gave him that much of a choice. He needed to understand what was happening with his son and you in order to help or bring some constructive input.
Shinsou goes on and on about how he mocked you to his "friends". When questioned on his "friends" he said that they were all telling him that you needed to be taught how to be a "proper woman" the "perfect girl for them".
("Hitoshi what-...why would you...?"
"I don't know! It made sense when i was young and- i... i dont understand how or why and...please just- help me i dont understand!"
"It's ok, it's ok, come here." Aizawa hugs Shinsou tightly. He starts running his hand over Shinsou's hair comforting him.
"What did you show them? What did you tell them about...her, exactly?") A mess of tears and regrets, thats what Shinsou is. A puddle which he somehow drowned you in out of a bitter rage that had nothing to do with you.
Aizawa finally holding a grasp as to how Shinsou's mind worked, he couldn't help but feel defeated. He neglected his son so much he became bitter and resentful towards the wrong people, the wrong person. (Aizawa only ever told Shinsou that his mother moved away from them because it was "too much for her". Young Shinsou couldn't grasp why his mom would leave him, but again he never really asked questions since he saw how upset it made his dad. "Dont worry Hitoshi, ill be here for you no matter what. Got it, problem child?") An intervention needs to be made now. To prevent even more damage, to keep his son safe and his sons ex-friend safe.
"Hitoshi? The posts and things you put online, you need to delete everything now." Urgency was a must, damage control needed to happen now. Who knows if Shinsou wrote about where he lived, where you lived and studied at, if he showed those "friends" of his your face. Who knows how much information he put out there to a bunch of strangers about you. "Ok, ok. Let me delete everything...yeah...thats-yeah...makes sense." He's slipping, Shinsou is slipping into a pit of shock and disgust, he needs to fix things and that only starts by wiping away years of miss informed opinions disguised as truths.
Everything is gone. No more accounts. No more pictures. No more you. He didn't make any announcements or even address why he was wiping everything. He didn't answer the piles of questions flooding his inbox about why he was doing all of this, he just didn't care anymore. He couldn't find you either. No account on any platform with any signs of you. (He should have asked for your socials, but knowing where you two started off at he thinks its better that you two didn't. It saved you from his incessant torment he saw himself being capable of.)
Week one came and went. You didn't show up for classes and people started to take notice.
"Does anyone know why y/n isn't at school anymore? Is she sick?" Midoriya asked one day. Everyone kind of just looked at each other hoping that someone might have an answer. Be it that no one other then Shinsou was in the same class as you, everyone in his friend group knew about you since you where always nice despite the way you presented clothing wise. (The clothing didn't matter nor did the labels, you were still so welcoming to everyone. Hell, you even welcomed Monoma and that guy is considered psycho by everyone.) Shinsou couldn't do anything but listen to his friends (Midoriya, Shoto, Denki, Mina, Iida, and Ururaka) go on about how nice you were. How they miss you. He misses you . He ruined this, he ruined your school experience and pushed you to lose the friends you had because of his own ignorance. He forced you to choice between showing up to school and dealing with him or not coming in at all and losing the friends you had because of him.
The Sports Festival was coming up soon, here all the students would compete against each other to show off their skills. The Festival acts more as an opportunity for the different Courses to fight each other since its focus centers on the physical strength and wellbeing of the students instead of their study of focus. It also helps with publicity by letting UA show off their students to the general public. (Shinsou didn't understand why the school would have a Sports Festival. UA was better known for being STEM and Art focused which meant that many of the students only had to take 1 year of P.E. instead of the 3 years other schools required.
"So again, what's the purpose of this?"
"Its just a chance for the different Courses to bully each other, and for the General Course to get mocked." responded Togeike. Be it that she never spent time with Shinsou, they both had a mutual attitude and just stayed away from each other out of disinterest. It wasn't after Shinsou's personality changed did she feel more comfortable being around him and started speaking to him casually throughout the day.
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"So what does the Business Course do during-"
"Hey, didn't you and y/n work on that project together?" This caught Shinsou of guard. For the past week its all been about you and how you hadn't been coming to class. (You haunt him even outside of school, the guilts too much for him at times.)
"Yeah...what about it." he snarls. Just because he's changed in appearance and largely in attitude, that doesn't mean he's over the way he treats people. Cant she get to the point already-
"Geez man, i just wanted to ask if you needed her number." That...was off. Why would she assume that he needed your number?
"Why would you give me her number? Don't you think that as former project partners i would already have her-"
"You're clearly upset about her not being here, so shut up. Either take it or leave it, jackass." she bit back. How did she know? Shinsou has always had a resting bitch face which made it hard to read his emotions. How did she manage to figure it out? (God he was an asshole!)
"Yeah, please....i'm sorry. I could-"
"Please shut the fuck up, i don't want an apology from you. Take it and fix this shit. I hate seeing people mope and you're pretty much dying in a pit here." Togeike really gives no fucks and she was tired of the purple haired boy looking like a kicked puppy. She assumed it had something to do with you. When you started skipping class, Shinsou also started to look upset and wouldn't speak that often. It wasn't like Shinsou was shy, he just didn't see the need to speak all the time. So to see him become even more silent was concerning.)
He left school that day with a skip to his step. He has your number! He has a way of contacting you! Yet, he still knew that having your number wouldn't fix anything. You left him alone and it wouldn't be fair for him to barge back into your life without proving he's improving, that he's actually deserving of you're friendship at least....
The Sports Festival.....
He can prove himself to you there....
Everyone will see it, every student at UA has to be there for credit....you'll have to be there. You'll also have to participate for the start of it, so you'll have to interact with someone.
(This was it)
This was so much fun to write! Lets give this a slow build up to give him proper character development and redemption. The next part will be the Sports Festival and what he plans on doing to get you back. Let's set up that his intention is too for one, make an impression on the school for when he decides to transfer to the Art Course but also to make an impression on you and get you to notice him in a positive light. Our poor incel is trying his best ok....
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cheekygreenty · 4 years ago
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His Queen - The Darkling x Reader
bitch, I think I outdid myself on this one. I'm shocked I wrote this
He hated the Tsar. He hated himself, but he didn't hate you. How could he of let this happen, he's never been a slave to his emotions. You were married, no, scratch that, you were the Queen for Saint's Sake. The Tsar had made it common knowledge that you didn't belong anywhere but the Grand Palace, in a glittering gown and a jeweled crown upon your always perfect hair sitting in front of a fire sipping on your tea. He wanted you nowhere near the action or actual Palace life. You were merely an accessory to him.
The young and innocent girl raised in nobility, who caught the old bastard's eye by fluttering your eyelashes at him, longing for his person.
Bullshit.
Aleksander could see your repulsion whenever you were in your husband's presence. The longing eyes as you looked at the doors, the shiver that rattled your spine as his sweaty hand gripped yours, or the increasing sadness in your eyes as the months went on. The jewels around your neck glistened, but your eyes didn't. Not anymore.
He had done some digging in the months following the wedding, and rest assured you didn't belong anywhere near the palace. You were scrappy, ready for a fight at all times. There were numerous accounts of you running around villages, fighting your way through pubs and inns. Your parents, the Duke and Duchess, were downright ashamed of you before your big day. You were itching to drop everything and join the First Army the second you had the chance. You were skilled in ways no noble was; you had street smarts.
Then the late Queen died and you were presented on a silver platter to the King, donning all the family jewels that never sit quite right. The King couldn't help himself, the public blamed the grief for his hasty marriage, 'he needed a companion.' But in reality, he saw what he could have and grasped you up the second he had the chance. And now you were stuck here, in a cage with no way out.
Aleksander didn't take a liking to you at the start. All he saw was what the King wanted him to see and for that, he feels tremendous guilt. He thought you to be proper and uptight and spoiled, so when you approached him the first time, franticly asking for advice about a simple state matter that was dropped into your lap by the General himself, he couldn't help but snigger at you and convey news of the stupid Queen to his fellow Grisha.
He didn't know the King treated you like a child or that all of this was new to you. I should've seen it he cursed himself, for the weeks to follow you were the talk of both the Palaces and news spread to camps on the front.
The stupid, young, ditsy girl who couldn't put together a luncheon for Ravka's war heroes was the Queen. Ridiculous.
He believed it too until he had seen you out one night when he couldn't sleep. You were deep in the forest, tending to your black stallion and in what looked like peasant clothing. You had mud on your boots and your hair was messily braided. There was a tatted punching bad tied up on a tree and another person sitting against a log, breathing heavily and clutching his side. Aleksander never made himself known, just blended into the darkness as he did best but continued to watch you eagerly. Only then did he faintly make out your bruised knuckles and the tears in your breeches.
'Again?'
'Saints Y/N no, I've got a way to go and the way you just bruised my ribs, I've a painful journey ahead of me' mused the sitting man.
That night, Aleksander sent out his best Grisha to collect information and asked Genya to tend to you, but you denied yet again (only after asking her to fix up your hands).
Ever since then, Aleksander has been observing you and getting to know you when he could, telling his Grisha it was to gather information since Genya was no longer garnering the Queen's secrets, but he felt drawn to you for whatever reason. You were the best part of his day; whether it was a simple smile sent his way or you rambling about the ways you avoid being followed around the palace, he listened intently and set the shared memories into his brain.
The General was a mystery to you. With his extremely handsome face and confident stances, he mesmerized you to the point of a blank mind. Whenever your eyes met his, it could be in a room of 60 people, rest assured you were right by his side in an instant. You had sought out his presence wherever you went and clung to it while you could.
But the King had made his opinion of the Darkling obvious, and his hatred ran deep. 'He likes to think he rides a horse above everyone else.' 'He's most unnatural.' You didn't care though. As long as he kept himself away from you and just used his words and not actions, you were fine.
You had gathered a particular kindness for late evening walks before bed, silently slipping onto the grounds of his palace, awaiting his companionship. It might have only been 40 minutes out of your day, but it was always better than not seeing him.
Ivan had pointed out that you had an air of hostility around you every time you were in a room with your husband and your heart tended to beat dangerously fast as if you were panicking. So Aleksander attempted to pull you away from him and distract you from the horrid man, and it seemed to work. He grew to like you and would miss your witty humor when he went back to the Little Palace.
Months had passed and he never grew sick of your presence, ironically he craved more of it. He tried to tell himself that you were just a part of his plan, nothing more, but things got even more complicated. He had accidentally mentioned seeing you that night in the forest, and instead of being hostile about it, you told him you enjoyed a fight or two and invited him to join you. That night, after multiple rounds of sparring and hard hits, he kissed you fervently. And again and again, until you both got past the point of going back.
You acknowledged the risk only after it happened and started to panic. You had an affair with the General of the Second Army. He seemed to be in the same state as you. But before you went your separate ways, he held you in his arms and promised it would all be ok. You believed him.
He got back to his chambers that night and his demeanor changed behind the closed doors. He was so mad. He always swore to take what the King loved most and destroy it before his very eyes, but this was a sick joke the Saints played on him. He needed to protect you, get you out of the Tsar's grip, and hide you away from any harm. There was nothing he wouldn't do to keep you out of danger's way and he knew it. Why did he let this happen? He knew that whatever your ending may be, you would get hurt, maybe not physically, but definitely emotionally.
You had told him of all the things the King did to you, how he treated you and paraded you around. You begged Aleksander to do something about it, to help you get out of that life and back to your old one, but there was nothing he could do and it broke his heart.
'I wish I could do something Y/N, I truly do, but I am not as powerful as you may think I am. The King is still the King' he had told you, guilt building in him.
He was sitting at his desk in his chambers now, looking out the window feeling fidgety. You were late for your evening walk, like really late. Sure it happened before, but Aleksander had a weird gut feeling that something happened. Maybe the King found out? or maybe you finally realized the magnitude of the situation and came to your senses?
He knew if the King whiffed out a sliver of what was going on with his wife and Aleksander, he would rain hellfire. He was a powerful man, the most powerful man in all of Ravka and there was nothing more dangerous than an embarrassed man's actions.
His thoughts were interrupted by a loud noise he hadn't heard in a very long time, followed by the very loud thuds of falling books. The tunnel?
'ALEKSANDER?' your panicked voice reached him and triggered something primal in him. fight or flight. He and his shadows shot up and ran to you but stopped dead in his tracks, the black matter disappearing in on itself. You stood at the entrance to the tunnel, visibly shaking with anger, but that's wasn't the cause of his shock.
'Saints Y/N' He whispered, realization flooding over him like a nasty wave of ice-cold water. Your once ivory white nightgown was drenched in crimson but you were uninjured, it wasn't yours. The huge green Lanstov emerald sitting atop your left hand was smeared in red too, giving it a brown tinge.
'I need to get out of here right now.' You sounded solid and stern, the panic was long gone. The scrappy fighter was back.
Aleksander had always known what to say. But now, he didn't have a single word come to his mind and his body refused to move, he was rendered speechless and useless. This is a nightmare, surely, he prayed.
'Y/N I-I, What happ-'
'Aleksander, unless you want to see my head on a pike by dawn, I suggest you help me' You said as you moved across the room, after closing the tunnel door firmly shut. How does she even know about these tunnels?
'I once heard a drunkard speak of tunnels beneath the palaces, I tried my luck' You said answering his question without even being asked,
Your hands moved quick, shedding yourself of the nightgown and holding it in your hands as you moved to grab his black robe off a chair. Aleksander still stood there, his head whirling with so many thoughts, it debilitated him. He needed her to say it.
'Y/N did you do what I think you did'
'You know I did'
At that moment the doors burst open to reveal Ivan with an alarmed look on his face and his hands raised, ready to jump into action, most likely alerted by the falling books. But he faltered when he saw you, The Queen, covered in blood and holding a bloody nightgown in the most secure room of the Little Palace.
'Great another witness' You huffed and dumped the gown into the fireplace.
'Moi soverenyi, what is the meaning of this?'
'Ivan I wish I could tell you.'
'I killed the King. I have approximately 3 hours before somebody notices him laying in his own blood with his neck slit open' You sighed and sat down, head in your hands. This was the first moment you'd had to process it all, and it was overwhelming, to say the least.
A silence enveloped the room as the fire roared back to life, already having burnt the evidence to a crisp. Aleksander finally came to his senses, moved and grabbed a bowl of water and a cloth.
'Did anybody see you leave?' He asked as he handed you the items to wash your hands of the sticky blood.
'No. I made sure of it. I traveled through the tunnels.'
'And the King? There is no weapon near him?' Ivan interrupted.
Slowly you bent down and pulled a small dagger out of your shoe. Small but sharp.
'Give that to me' Aleksander took it out of your hands and walked out of the room while you continued to scrub the crimson off your hands.
You momentarily looked at Ivan, he didn't look mad or upset. He looked like a soldier.
'Are you not mad your King is dead?' You mused.
'He was not my King'
'That makes two of us' You were done cleaning your hands and moved to clean the ring. Should I burn this too?
'Leave it on. If things go sideways, you can buy your freedom' Aleksander returned. 'Ivan go get 2 horses and pack essentials. Get Genya too. I trust you to keep quiet.'
'Yes Moi soverenyi, Moya tsaritsa' He bowed his head quickly and waltzed out the room.
'Aleksander I'm scared now.....what have I done' You whispered. He took hold of your hand and pulled you into him. He held you tight, not wanting to let go.
'It's going to be ok. I promise. There's a small cottage down south I want you to go to. Ivan will take you. You will be safe. I will right this. I will protect you as I should've done earlier.' He kissed you deeply, letting all of the emotions flow through without the need for words.
'And what then?' You whispered against his lips.
'You be you. Perhaps go to Ketterdam. I feel you belong there... or come back to me when the time is right' He kissed you again, it was sweet and sad. A goodbye kiss. 'I love you, and even though you don't like it, you are my Queen. Forever'
'I love you too' Your hands fisted at his beautiful black kefta as tears dripped off your face.
****
That night you fled, your hair and appearance completely changed. The peasant clothes you felt comfortable in were on your back while the heartrenderer galloped beside you. Os Alta was still asleep as you sped down south, praying to the Saints that leaving Aleksander to deal with your mess was the right decision. That he would be ok too.
Ravka was shaken by the news of their dead King and the missing Queen. Some say she was dead, kidnapped by Fjerdans, and slaughtered mercilessly, others said Kerch merchants had her thrown in the Fold as she refused to give up information.
Either way, Aleksander had made sure you weren't regarded as a murderer and kept his promise to give you a chance to return to the Little Palace, to him.
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Also if u can see this fic plz interact with it!! Idk if my tumblr is fixed yet and I need to make sure!!! If u were tagged and it didn’t notify you like last time, plz tell me!!!! 💓💓
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mithrilwren · 4 years ago
Note
I don't suppose you'd be willing to do 9 on the physical affection prompts with Beau-Jester & or Yasha? For one who keeps her emotions close to her chest, I'm still waiting for them to come out so Beau can be kinda free of the anger & sadness that had been so close to her life growing up.
I hope this is what you wanted! I ended up going with the ‘&’ :)
#9 Wiping Away Tears
Really, Beau should have been prepared for this. Jester likes to ask these kinds of questions, likes to poke and prod, and usually, Beau likes watching her do it. She enjoys seeing the other guy squirm under Jester cheerful dissection: each question sugar-coated for maximum damage. You don’t know what you’ve swallowed till it’s already gone down. 
“Didn’t your mom ever say it, Beau?”
She should have been prepared for this question.
Except, of course, she wasn’t.
Yasha is still holding Beau’s hand in her lap, the blush of varnish dripping from her little brush to the floor, and the semi-circle they form on Jester’s bedroom floor is abruptly claustrophobic. Beau clears her throat, fighting the urge to pull her fingers free - to curl them into a fist, because when her chest feels like this, it’s time to fight. Past precedent. Survival instinct.
There’s an easy answer here; she knows there is.
Yeah, of course my mom said she loved me. Fuck, she said it all the time! 
Because she did. She did say it. She said it plenty. 
It’s just...
“I mean-” Beau says, then cuts herself off with a shrug, before the lump in her throat takes the choice of whether or not to speak away from her.
Two sets of big eyes are watching her, and Beau doesn’t know who she’s more angry with: Jester, for asking a question she knew - she must have known - Beau couldn’t answer, or herself, for not taking the easy out when she had the chance. There’s no chance the two of them will let it go now.
“Yeah.” She shrugs again, and adds a toothy half-smile for good measure, like it’ll make the gesture any more convincing. She bites her cheek too. A little pain always wakes her up. Her voice already feels steadier. “‘Course she did.”
“Oh, Beau,” Jester says, all soft understanding, like she knows, and Beau finally pulls her hand away. Yasha lets go without a word, but her eyes follow Beau as she sinks onto her elbows, and Beau tries not to look back at her. It’s hard enough to face Jester’s stare, already watery at the edges. She hates seeing Jester cry.
“It’s just-” How do you make someone like Jester understand? That love didn’t mean love, not like she understands it. Love is Marion’s hand, stroking blue hair to sleep. Love is telling your daughter’s friends how much you care for her. Love is acting like she’s something to be proud of, no matter who else is listening. “She said it, sure. She just wasn’t so great at showing it, you know?”
Is it love, when you’ll only say it when your dad isn’t around to hear? Is it love, when she whispers it into your ear four hours after he sent you to bed with no supper - some sort of sick apology for having not taken your side when it actually mattered? 
Did she love me?
“It doesn’t matter.”
Do I care?
“We love you, Beau,” comes Yasha’s soft voice from the side, and oh, that’s not fucking fair.
“We really do,” Jester echoes, “and we always will, ok?”
“Yeah,” Beau forces out, “I know-” but before she can turn away, there are hands on her cheeks - freshly manicured nails swiping away the trails of wetness beneath her eyes. “S-sorry,” she says, reaching up her own hands to scrub at the rest of the tears that stubbornly refuse to stop falling. But Yasha catches her hands before she can push Jester away, and holds them gently, until Beau starts squeezing back. 
“We love you,” Yasha says again, and biting her cheek isn’t helping at all, so Beau ducks her chin and takes a deep breath. Then she takes another.
“Ok,” she whispers at last, and when Jester wraps her arms around her, she doesn’t pull away.
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bnhababyyyy · 5 years ago
Text
Bro’s before that kinda bro
Part 8/?
A/n: Yeah we’re almost done guys!!! This chapter took a long time too but I enjoyed writing it! I hope u guys r doing ok and that this chapter finds you well❀
—————————————-
You paced back and forth around the common room, with the girls watching you. This was an important moment, you needed to prove yourself to them. Mina leaned forward on the couch, eyes trained onto you. “We gave you as much information as we could possibly give
”
“I hope you pass the test (Y/n)... it may be hard to complete.” Uraraka finished.
Momo crossed her legs, “I know you can do it
. Jirou ask the questions!”
Jirou nodded. “First question
 when you walk past him what do you do?”
“Scoff and look away!” You didn’t miss a beat.
“Right. When he asks why you’re at his house what do you say?”
“I'm not here for you, everything isn’t about you anymore.”
She nodded. “And if he asks ‘Can we be friends again?’ What do you say.”
“Uhm.” You stopped in your tracks. “I would say that I...I would kind of like that, and I really do miss him and if he’s ready to be friends again-“
The girls groaned, throwing pillows at you until you sat back down. It was a sunny afternoon and you were practicing how to approach Todoroki’s house since you would be going there. You needed help learning assertive behaviors and thought that the girls would be the best of help in being assertive with him.
The night before Midoriya had asked if you could join dinner with him at the Todoroki household, claiming that he was too scared to go himself. You called him that morning and asked for more clarification, which went something like:
“Midoriya. I’m telling you I shouldn’t go. If Todoroki hates me I’m sure his whole family hates me too!”
You could hear the nervous fidgeting on the other line. “I’m sure his whole family doesn’t hate you
”
“Why are you even going in the first place if you’re too scared to go? Just cancel!”
“I can’t, Todoroki said he couldn’t stand his father and really needed some moral support, I can’t leave if I’m his support!”
You sharply exhaled, pinching the bridge of your nose as you let your mind think. “I can’t stand being around him right now, I promise you if I go it’ll end up with broken glass everywhere.”
“I’ll be the mediator between you two, just focus on something else when you go!”
“No.”
“Please, I bought you ice cream that one time!”
“That was you paying me back by holding your bags!”
“I even let you take care of him when he got that concussion!”
“Midoriya!”
“I really need you there! Please be my moral support!” You squeezed your eyes shut, trying your best to not let him in. “Please?”
You could physically feel him doing puppy eyes over the phone and it got you. It got you. You could hear him smile on the receiver, he knew he got you too. “Fine.”
“Thank you! I’ll text the details soon, Bye!”
You threw the phone far from you, you couldn’t stand him.
Which led you to now. You were sloped against the couch with the girls surrounding you in a circle.
“I mean, what if we do make up. I wouldn’t be mad at him if he wanted to continue our friendship.” You played with the laces on your shoes.
Jirou huffed. “Be honest, do you want him as a friend or are you hoping for something more?” You felt her stare right into your dodo brain.
“Uhm I
 I dunno.” You never thought about it that way, you were too busy trying to be friends with him you didn’t realize that you may get a crush on him again. What if you two repeated the cycle?
Mina shook you out of your gloom, “Okay we can deal with that philosophical stuff later! I’m sure Todoroki won’t ask you to be friends with him at the dinner, so let’s focus on being assertive okay?”
You slumped lower onto the floor, feeling the weight of your problems grow heavier. “Ochaco why can’t you go? It’s your boyfriend, and you’re close to Todoroki.”
“Ah that’s because I have a class with Gunhead!” She said.
“But the dinner is at 8! How long are you gonna be training for?”
Uraraka bounced in her seat. “He’s having us train for night watch! We’re learning how to work in teams at night and how to spot suspicious activity, I can’t wait!”
“Aw I’m so happy for you
” you pinched her cheek. “Can you bring me with you so I have an excuse?”
“Oh you’re being overdramatic. I’m sure it won’t be that bad!”
“Maybe...” You lifted yourself from the floor. “I’m gonna go choose an outfit or whatever, have fun on your night watch though.”
The girls all waved you away and wished you good luck, but when you entered your room you fell into your bed. You couldn’t tell if you were making a mistake, if you were really ready to see him now. Everything was moving so fast and you weren’t used to this new way of living. Your friends talked about how you needed to cut him out of your life but that was easier said than done, the feelings you had were so odd.
You would be sad that he treated you wrong, but if you thought about it too long you would get angry, ready to pick a fight with him, then out of nowhere you would wonder if you were being over dramatic. It was a continuous cycle with enough happy memories to make you doubt all of your emotions. You were sick of it.
These thoughts ran in your mind until you rolled onto your back and closed your eyes, practicing the breathing technique Uraraka showed you the other day. Inhaling as much as you could, then exhaling all of it. Inhale, exhale, inhale

 you felt your consciousness slowly slip away, succumbing to the quiet of your room.
Later on you heard this constant humming by your ear, but it was too drowned out by your sleep. It would stop for a while then the noise would return with a few notifications sounding off in between.
You felt around the bed for the noise source and blinked your eyes open when you realized it was your phone. The messages looked a little urgent.
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As soon as you sent the last message he started calling you again, audibly panicking from the other line. “(Y/l/n)! Where are you? Why didn’t you respond to my calls!?”
You sat at the edge of your bed, squinting at your window. “Midoriya what time is the dinner at?”
“Eight, our ride is coming in five minutes! I-I was waiting in the common room, but then I got nervous and went outside to check, and then I went back inside and saw the car wasn’t there, but then I saw what I thought was the car and went outside again! I’ve been outside watching the cars pass by in case it’s ours and now it’s getting cold and-”
“Okay, okay, I get it,” You were too groggy to even comprehend what was happening, and sifted through your closet for an outfit. “Is it casual wear or formal?”
“It doesn’t matter right now please hurry!”
“Midoriya calm down it’ll be fine
didn’t Ochaco show you that one breathing technique for calming down?”
“Yeah I mean kind of I-I don’t know.”
You held two outfits in front of you, one was a dress that you’d only wear at a fancy gala while the other was a pair of shorts with a cute shirt. Casual or formal? The question repeated in your head until the heavy breathing on the other line brought you back. “Oh right, okay, inhale as much air as you can
 and then release all of it.”
You heard him follow your instructions as you gave up and decided on wearing the dress. You checked yourself out a little bit, the dress shaped you well and the necklace you were wearing with it looked- you paused. You forgot he gave you that. You played with the pendant, recalling how happy he looked whenever you wore it. You remembered the tenderness of the moment when he gave it to you, the way he fumbled with the chain while it was on your neck, how his hand would ghost around your face, when he dipped his head down into almost kissing you that one night...
“Are-are you still there?” Midoriya’s voice piped up.
“Oh right! Ok I’m leaving right now, don’t move!”
“Don’t do anything stupid, do not fall for him!” You scolded at the reflection.
With a reassuring nod to yourself you threw a purse on and rushed outside. When Midoriya came into view he let out a choked sigh of relief. “Wha-Ah you look amazing!”
“Thanks, you look great too,” Midoriya was thankfully wearing a suit, not underdressing you at all. “Where’s the car?”
“Ah it’s across the street, but we can’t leave until Todoroki shows up!”
Your jaw dropped, “He’s coming with us!? I thought he was already there!”
And speaking of the devil, the man himself showed up with an outfit a little too casual compared to the clothes you and Midoriya wore. He was looking at his phone, not noticing you at all. “Sorry, the call went longer than I thought
” His words drifted away when his eyes caught yours and froze. He flipped his eyes between you and Midoriya. “Why are you here?”
His tone was uninviting, telling you to get away from him in a passive aggressive way. It set you off, you rubbed your face feeling emotions bubbling up, but the only one you could focus on was anger. Boiling out the pot kind of anger and you weren’t sure if you could last a whole car ride with him in there.
You stopped Midoriya’s sputtering, “I’m here for him, he wanted me to come so he didn’t feel awkward at your house.”
Todoroki looked at Midoriya for confirmation and huffed when Midoriya gave a reassuring nod. “There might not be enough room for all of us.”
“I don’t mind sitting in the passenger.”
“That seat might have stuff in it.”
“Then you can walk. You know the way to your house right?” You were both pushing each other, trying to make the other back down.
Midroiya poked the both of you, “Okay we can squeeze in right? Let’s hurry over before the car leaves us and all of your stuff Todoroki!”
He dragged the both of you to the car, where the driver loaded multiple boxes into the car. And of course, the passenger seat had a few boxes in them as well.
You pinched Midoriya’s hand, “What’s going on? Why is that guy putting all those boxes in there?”
Midoriya leaned in to whisper, but was interrupted by the slamming of the car door and the driver approaching you three. “Alright, it’ll be a bit of a tight squeeze, someone might have to sit in someone else’s lap
 or someone could go in the trunk!”
He said that to be funny. You were supposed to be laughing. But the tensions were so high, all the three of you could do was let out that awkward cough of a laugh. Then you all stood there in the silence.
The driver cleared his throat, “Well I suggest that the lady sit-“
You were already scooting into the furthest seat possible, one seat was completely taken over in boxes. “You guys can sit on top of each other, I’m fine over here.”
You watched as the two of them looked between each other and agreed on having Midoriya sit on Todoroki’s lap, it was an interesting sight, they both didn’t know where to put their arms, and apologized every time they bumped into each other. Todoroki put his hand by his sides, while Midoriya shifted his hands between his lap. As soon as everyone seemed settled in, the car started moving, and you were just now realizing how tight the space was.
You tried to shift away from Todoroki, but the driver made so many turns, your head continued to bump into his shoulder. Every time it happened you could see him inch away, the both of you stiffening when you fell onto his shoulder. You both didn’t say anything, just adding more tension onto the situation.
You took out your phone and pretended to text someone important. Midoriya noticed your discomfort and cleared his throat, “It’s uhm quiet in here, can you turn on some music sir?” The driver did so but the tension in the air lingered. “Uhm
 you look really nice (Y/l/n)! Doesn’t that necklace match well with her outfit Todoroki?”
You felt your heart drop. Necklace? Your hands flew to your neck and felt around for the jewelry. You were in such a hurry to get dressed you forgot to put it back on the dresser, your heart was beating out of your chest.
“Why do you still have that?” His expression was familiar and almost gentle but his tone sounded sharp, you couldn’t decipher what his feelings were. Was he angry? Sad? Disappointed? Either way, the confusing tones were starting to piss you off, and Instead of mulling it over any longer you decided to unhook it and toss it to the floor. “I don’t know, forgot to throw it away,”
His mouth dropped, he looked offended almost. You rolled your eyes as he scoffed and leaned further away from you, making you feel a smidge of regret, but not enough to feel sorry. You all waited for the car ride to end, the music wasn’t loud enough to drown out the tension and you were starting to get sweaty.
When the car slowed to a stop, the three of you nearly bolted out of the car. You all helped the driver with the ridiculous amount of boxes and carried them to the house. You leaned over to Midoriya when Todorki was ahead of you.“Why are there so many boxes? Do you know what they’re for?”
“Yup! They’re a bunch of presents and letters that Todoroki got for his mother
”
“Why?” You knew Todoroki had developed a close bond with his mother, but from what you knew she was still in the hospital, so why were the boxes going to his house?
He gasped. “Wait I forgot to tell you! I’m so sorry, today is her birthday! That’s what the dinner thing is about!”
“What.”
“Yeah sorry about that! I’m sure she will be really nice though!”
“Midoriya.” You let out a sharp breath. “What made you think that inviting me would be a good idea? I don’t want to be here if his mom is coming to visit! That kills the whole mood for everyone!”
Midoriya’s expression changed, realizing his mistake. Yes, you and Todoroki were not on good terms but that didn’t mean you wanted to ruin any opportunities he had to hang out with his mom! You being here pissed him off, how could he relax if you were at his family table?
“Oh yeah I guess you’re kind of right huh
. Maybe you can just be nice for the rest of the night! I’m sure he won’t notice you if you’re quiet.”
You fumbled with the boxes. “Well I should just leave at that point
 I’m sure you’ll be fine if his mom will be there.”
Before Midoriya could protest your statement, the door swung open revealing Todoroki’s sister, you were surprised to see that she looked a lot like him. You all filed into the house while Midoriya continued on a list of all the reasons why you should stay.
“You promised!” Midoriya pleaded.
“Yeah but that was before I got all the needed information,” you placed your boxes down in a corner of the house. “You basically made an illegal deal!”
“How could that be illegal if no money was involved!? You’re the one who’s making an illegal- hey!” You were trying to inch out the door but Midoriya caught you by the wrist. “Please don't leave, just stay for like five minutes!”
“Midoriya
”
He flashed his puppy eyes towards you, they were more effective in person, you tried to look away from him but he just followed your eyes. After a quick stare down you groaned. “Fine
” Midoriya was about to cheer but you stopped him, “But only five minutes...after that I’m out of here.”
“Wait, Five minutes after his dad arrives, right?”
“Yes. After his dad comes, no debates okay?”
“Mmm.” he was biting his nails. “I guess we can do that
 I’ll just be a little nervous.”
You listened as he went on a rant about all of his worries, while you threw words of encouragement his way. The two of you talked until Todoroki’s sister walked past you two, then did a double take.
“Ah, I’m so sorry I didn’t see you guys!” She was struggling to keep the balance of the plates in her arms as she bowed, “I’m Fuyumi, Shouto has told me a lot about you two!”
Midoriya grinned and returned the bow. “Thank you for inviting us, the food smells great!”
“Oh right! I forgot the chicken was in the fryer!”
You watched her rush through the kitchen and move from task to task too fast to follow. “Did you need help?”
“No, no you two are my guests you don't need to-” a plate dropped and the shatter was heard from the kitchen, “Ah jeez.”
Midoriya and you bumped heads trying to rush into the kitchen, your hero instincts kicking in at the same time. “Just let me, it’s the least I can do.” you pleaded. “Go keep Todoroki company.”
He gave you a nervous nod before turning to Todoroki.
You watched him disappear as you entered the kitchen. Fuyumi was trying to pick up the smashed pieces of the plate when you came in. “Ah I forgot the chicken’s still in the fryer!”
“I can get it,” You picked up a pair of tongs, “How long have you been cooking?”
“Too long, I think my arms are getting numb from mixing all day.” She took a glance at you, “Sorry, you shouldn’t have to help if you're the guest.”
“No, no I don’t mind at all. I know it’s a special day for you guys and I’m sure you want everything to be perfect.”
You opened a trash bag for her to throw out the shards and as she stood, you caught a glimpse of the family resemblance. The Todoroki you knew and Fuyumi both carried themselves similar to each other, her posture and smile washed a wave of familiarity over you. You felt so at ease with her presence, like you didn’t need to prove yourself to her.
“Thank you, I appreciate it.” She snapped you out of your thoughts as she looked at Midoriya and Todoroki with a warm expression. “I think it’s good he has people like you in his life, he’s changed a lot.”
Changed? You could say that, but it was more of a regression than a progression. “That was all due to Midoriya, I don’t think anyone made him change better than Midoriya did. He basically reset his whole philosophy on life.”
She giggled into her hand. “Pff, I’m sure it wasn’t all Midoriya, not with the way he talks about you.”
You almost dropped the trash bag, you couldn’t have heard that right. “What do you mean by that?”
“Oh- nothing! I just talk too much!”
“I mean it’s not like I care about him talking about me
” you reassured yourself. “But what did he say?”
“Well I respect my brother's privacy, so I couldn’t tell you too much
 but I guess you could say you’re the reason why he’s been happier lately.”
You gave her a weird look, he didn’t seem happier when he was with you. You didn’t know what he was talking about with her, but she probably didn’t know about the recent events that happened between the two of you, so you decided to just brush it off.
“Just trust me,” she smiled. “But let’s pretend I didn’t say that and set up the table, everyone should start coming any minute now!”
You gave her a quick nod and began putting the dishes onto the table. The food smelled amazing and the table was filled with so many varieties of dishes it was like a buffet, desserts on one side of the table while the meats stayed on another side of the table. You couldn’t believe she made all of that food herself.
As soon as the doorbell rang you could have swore Todoroki tripped out of his chair to answer it. His excitement died down however, when his brother entered the house instead of his mother.
“His brother’s actually kind of cute.” You whispered to Midoriya.
“Please don’t hit on his family members
” He groaned.
“Ew I’m not gonna do that
 I mean not until I graduate at least.”
Midoriya gagged and pushed you away as you laughed at his reaction. Everything felt light and joyful, you didn’t think you would need to stay if the room kept this energy, Midoriya would be fine.
“I didn’t know you made friends Shouto!” Todoroki’s brother gestured to the table, “I’m Natsu.”
You and Midoriya bowed while Todoroki took his seat. “Yeah, I guess. Where’s Endeavor and Mom?”
“I dunno, I thought everyone would be here already.” He sat next to Fuyumi and already began making himself a plate. “This looks great, did you make all of this?”
She nodded and passed chopsticks to his side, “Yeah, I had a little bit of help too,” She winked your way and you smiled in return. “I hope they get here before the food gets cold.”
The whole scene felt so domestic, all of you laughing at jokes and funny experiences from school. Praising Fuyumi for how great the food tasted, poking fun at Midoriya for over describing how much he loved her cooking, and learning about Todoroki’s siblings felt so sweet.
Todoroki was barely taking part in the conversations, he was constantly checking the time and shaking the table with his leg. He must have been waiting for a moment like this forever, a moment where him and his family had a normal dinner.
After a while there was a knock at the door and you could feel the excitement buzz through the house. They were finally here. The siblings looked between each other before all getting up to the door while you and Midoriya turned around to watch.
Everyone took in a sharp breath, then Fuyumi swung the door open with a breeze of cold air coming in and Endeavor walked in with
 no one behind him
 Everyone stayed in the same place looking confused. No one was saying anything and the whole domestic scene was torn away as soon as he entered the house.
Endeavor’s eyes flickered towards the both of you, then turned back to his kids. “Shouto, follow me.” Todoroki blinked hard before following him out of the room, while Fuyumi and Natsu stood by the door whispering to each other.
You leaned towards Midoriya, “And the timer starts now
”
“No, no, no don’t leave me!” He sputtered, “Can’t you feel the tension in here!?”
“Exactly! I don’t wanna be here if it's gonna be this awkward
 can you pass me the mayonnaise over there.”
As the both of you argued, Natsu and Fuyumi received a notification from their phones. You didn’t know what it said but the mood in the room changed.
“I can’t believe this
 Shouto’s not going to take this well.” Natsu sunk into a chair.
Fuyumi took a seat, putting her head into her hands and rereading whatever message was sent to her. “I worked so hard
”
“What’s going on?” Midoriya whispered to you.
“Like I know! Ask them yourself if you’re so curious.”
Fuyumi readjusted herself in her seat, not looking up at your concerned faces. “Sorry, I can wrap your guys’ food up. I don’t think we’re going to have dinner tonight.”
“Oh no, what happened?” You asked.
“Uhm our mom was supposed to come for the dinner tonight but our dad said she wasn’t ready to come eat with us yet
 Something about the hospital not letting her?” She let out a deep sigh, “It’s a little disappointing, since we set this up for her birthday.”
You felt sweat run down your spine. Natsu looked pissed and Fuyumi looked like she was going to cry at any moment and you were nervous about how Todoroki would react. You would feel the same way if this happened to you, it was devastating seeing the mood drop this low, all excitement shot down to the floor.
The room was quiet while you and Midoriya fiddled with your thumbs, you both didn’t know how to respond and it felt too rude to start packing food when the room was this depressing.
The silence didn’t continue for too long, a few minutes later a door swung open with a bang and Todoroki was storming out of the room.
Endeavor called after Todoroki from the doorway. “Shouto, it’s for the best, her health-”
“Shut the hell up, you don’t know anything.” Shouto slammed the front door as he went out, leaving the both of you.
Midoriya pulled you out of your seat, “C’mon let's go check on him.”
Midoriya was dragging you by the wrist as you tried to digest what was happening. You had spent the whole morning training yourself on how to be assertive with Todoroki, not training on how to console him after his father messed up the dinner! You had come in with many expectations on how the night would end, but this turn of events never crossed your mind.
When you got outside Midoriya was by his side in an instant. Todoroki was crouched down, swiping at the tears on his face, letting out broken sobs in an attempt to silence them. You felt your heart sink into your stomach and ran to his side as well.
Midoriya ducked his head to Todoroki’s level, “Hey, hey what happened in there? Are you okay?”
You crouched down and debated rubbing his back, not knowing if that was pushing it. “Talk when you’re ready.”
“I can’t believe I actually trusted that bastard and
. and came here, and for him to say that like he was some kind of saint
 like-like he wasn’t the reason why she didn’t come.” His voice was cracking everywhere and it just pinched your heart.
“What did he say in there?” You asked.
“That my mom
”He hiccuped into his sleeve, hiding his face further from you two. “couldn’t come, but I don’t believe him. He hates the idea of having her in his stu-upid house. That’s why.” He paused, trying to control his breathing. “Or maybe she just didn’t want to see me
”
You held back a gasp, “That’s not true at all. I’m sure she would show up if she could.” You placed your hand on his back and felt the slightest shiver from him. “Her not showing up has nothing to do with you.”
“Exactly,” Midoriya chimed. “She would love to see you, I’m sure she misses you and your siblings!”
Todoroki shook his head, “You don’t know that. I hate that man, he ruins everything. He even had the nerve to insult you guys.”
You and Midoriya turned your heads toward each other, “He insulted us!? What did he say?” Midoriya asked.
“He said that the two of you were making me weak. That I’ve been acting weaker every day since I became friends with you two. Maybe he’s right, I can’t control my emotions anymore and
”
“That’s not true!” Midoriya interrupted.
You nodded, “Who cares about what that guy says! Everything he says is false, Midoriya’s the strongest kid in our class, how could he possibly be making you weaker!? Think about it, he’s the one who made you use both of your quirks!”
Todoroki nodded into his arms while Midoriya waved you off, “Ahh, you’re going to make my ego too high!”
“It’s true though, If anything Todoroki has progressed so far because of you. You’re the reason why he’s able to express himself so well, like he isn’t holding back himself from crying or laughing anymore!”
Todoroki’s head popped up from his lap, and looked like he was about to say something but stopped himself. His eyes were red, but if you squinted you could see that familiar gleam he used to give you all the time. It made your breathing hitch, even when you shouldn’t have any feelings.
Midoriya held his hand out to Todoroki and lifted him from the ground. “Why don’t we go back to school, I don’t think we should go back there right now.”
You all nodded, but before you could even walk too far away, you realized you were forgetting something. “Oh wait hold on, I think I left my bag in there.”
“I’ll get it.” Midoriya and Todoroki said in unison, both moving towards the door, but you waved them off.
“No, no, it’s fine I’ll get it,”
“Are you sure?” Todoroki asked.
Him talking to you positively for the first time that week stunned you a little too much. Your mouth opened and closed trying to gather words out for a response. “Uh-yeah, I’m not scared of your dad Todoroki.”
That was a lie. That was the biggest lie you have told that night, of course you were terrified of Endeavor! Who wouldn’t be scared of a guy like that? You couldn’t back down now though, Todoroki and Midoriya were looking at you as if you were Joan of Arc, believing you would storm into the house with no fear.
With a determined expression, you flipped around and marched into the house. The tension from that room hit you as soon as you opened the front door, feeling nausea enter your system. The food from the table was still there, but now no one was at the table, just your bag by your seat, you checked both sides of the room before darting to the table, you did not want to have an awkward conversation with either of his siblings or his dad.
You checked your bag for all of its contents, but before you could leave the table Endeavor’s booming voice piped up behind you.
“I'm sorry!?” You choked on your spit.
“Thank you for caring for my son, you and the green boy.” He stood at the end of the table, keeping direct eye contact with you.
“Oh. Yeah, you’re welcome.”
“Shouto has changed. I believe you and that boy are the reason for it. You let him present a weakness I could never teach him myself.” He continued.
“We did?”
“Yes, you taught him to open himself up, to not hide his emotions to appear stronger, but rather express them and become stronger naturally. Something I could never teach him myself.”
“Okay, well I should get going now-”
“So, for that reason I thank you. Thank you for teaching him to be okay with change, I hope he forgives me someday. There’s only so much I can do now that my children are all grown up
”
You teetered on your toes, waiting for him to stop talking. He had been going on a rant about how grateful he was for you and Midoriya but you didn’t know how to respond. Everyone continued to tell you how much you changed Todoroki but you didn't see it, he was starting to return to his old ways and ignore you. Tonight was the most positive communication you had with him that whole week, none of it made sense.
“I don’t know how much I helped in his development, but I’m sure if you keep trying he’ll eventually forgive you.” You checked your phone, every second in the room with him talking made you want to rip your hair out. “Or he might not, either way you should keep striving for it!”
Endeavor nodded and looked down deep in thought, “Maybe I’ll start calling him. Kids use their phones all the time nowadays, I should be able to reach him through there.”
“Yeah, I guess you could.” You scooted to the front door. “Please tell Fuyumi the food was amazing, goodnight.”
You slipped out the door as soon as Endeavor nodded and let out a sigh of relief when you were outside again. It felt like he was keeping you hostage with his worries and regrets. Midoriya was hugging Todoroki’s hunched form and gave you a wave.
“Are you okay? You were in there for a while.” He asked.
You nodded, “Yeah, Endeavor was just talking to me for like ever. Your dad is really dramatic Todoroki.”
Todoroki lifted himself from Midoriya and wiped his face. “Yeah, I’m sorry. You guys shouldn’t have to deal with my family and their drama. I didn’t intend for this to happen when I invited you.”
He wasn’t keeping eye contact with you but he looked exhausted. You had to restrain every fiber of your being to not hold his face and wipe away his tears, seeing him so devastated pulled on every string of your heart and you hated it.
“It’s fine! We wouldn’t be mad about something like this, but we should call for a ride before it gets too late.” Midoriya said.
“Yeah I’ll call! Maybe we should make plans for another dinner sometime.” You were already dialing for a car service.
You were relieved when the car arrived with full open seats and no need for squeezing. Midroiya ran to the passenger side as soon as it pulled up, leaving you and Todoroki for the back. You and Todoroki slid into the back, not having enough energy to argue after the long day you two went through.
You all talked as the ride began but began relaxing in a comforting silence after a while. You and Todoroki still didn’t make up, but you mutually understood not to talk about it at that moment. A moment to pretend nothing was wrong and that you were all just kids. No expectations or ideas about each other, just warm bodies laughing in the night.
The car ride back wasn’t as tense as the ride to his house. Instead it felt like your connection to him was a little deeper, to the point you could tell when Todoroki was thinking about something that bothered him. From the reflection in the window alone, you could tell he was internally struggling with something serious.
You knew you shouldn’t have done anything, but with the calm air in the car, you couldn’t help but place your hand atop of his. It was almost like you saying ‘I’m here for you’ without saying anything. You held your breath as he flicked his eyes from you to your hands. The moment felt like it was lasting hours and you didn’t know if he was interpreting your intentions the same way.
Your thoughts were cut short when you felt him very gently ghost his thumb over your hand and squeeze it. You hid the smile forming on your face. The both of you kept your hands together while Todoroki rubbed small circles into your hand until the ride was over.
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penny44224 · 5 years ago
Text
I'm home
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(It’s been a while I hope you like itđŸ˜«)
Drinking your freshly brewed coffee as you sat in your office while observing the outside scenery from the window. It’s been exactly five years since you have been married to Chris or formally known as Bang Chan from Stray Kids. What started as a random encounter turned into blissful romance.
You both fought hard to keep your relationship going from the company, parents, and of course the fans. But successfully, everyone saw how much your love for one other is and eventually let it be. This is what you wanted right, to finally be with Chan without second-guessing yourself. So why are you unhappy. The public thinks you guys are living the happy married life together, but in private, you guys were struggling. To start it off, Bang Chan still works for JYP. Meaning, he lives in Seoul while he also lives in Australia which is where you live. You’ve been pushing about wanting to start a family with him ever since you guys got married but the long-distance is becoming a real issue.
You knew how much he loved his career and you support him fully without a doubt. But you couldn’t take it. Because to be honest, you were just lonely. It’s been 8 months since the last time you guys saw each other, felt each other, and kiss each other. You longed for him physically but you knew it wasn’t you say so. You accepted the long distance while you guys were dating but now being married, it was a different story.
Last night, you decided to call him up but that was a horrible idea. You just wanted to check up on him, but it escalated to an intense argument. The last thing you remember is him saying to you, “why the fuck am I still with you!” You never felt so broken that you barely got sleep last night.
Now you're in your office, trying your best to get through the day. On cue, that’s when your coworkers, Lia, Beth, and Maxine came in.
“Y/N did you not see my text messages I sent you!” said Lia
“Oh I’m sorry I haven’t been on my phone” you replied quietly
The girls were always used to your uplifting spirit but notice a sad tone in your voice
“Hey honey you ok?” Beth asked walked closer to you
That’s when finally last night’s emotion hit you. You started brawling in front of your friends while they immediately comfort you. You began to tell them everything that has happened.
“Oh my goodness, I never knew you were dealing with this sweetie,” Maxine says as she hugs you
“I don’t know what to do anymore, does he even love me or are we just staying together because of how hard we fought to be together, “ you say as more tears begin to fall down your cheek
“Don’t say that girl, you know he loves you melanin and all! You guys fought because of how much you love each other. That’s what matters” Maxine states
“But I can’t believe he said that to you, he knows I will literally go to Seoul to beat his ass up!” Lia replied which made you guys giggle
“Exactly go book a flight now and a hotel too” Beth added
“Oh guys stop,” you say now laughing as the tears start to dry
”You know what we can do to cheer you up!” Lia gasped
The girls looked at each other unsure
”THE CLUB” Lia yelled excitedly
”oh my goodness yasss, we can go to the one that just opened!” Beth added
” Uhh guys I'm not sure going to the club will help my problem,” y/n said
”Trust us y/n, the more you stress, the more you will become depressed. So let just let go for one night. ” Maxine says sweetly
You did want to forget about what happened last night so you agreed
”yayyy we gonna party!” Lia jumped up and down
”umm guys, is it ok if I invite Susie, you know she's new to town and I want to show her around,” Beth asked
”of course, she can come” you answered unaware of the butterfly effect you just created
After two hours of getting ready, you examined your self in the mirror. Your hair was up in a high ponytail, smokey face look, a strapless burgundy dress that hugged your curves and lace heels.
”Your gonna have a fun night,” you tell yourself as you hear beeping outside
As you guys were at the club, the girls literally on cloud nine. But you were still in your mood because of what Chan said. That's when Susie, the coworker came over to you
”Hey I heard what happened to you,” Susie said
”of course you did, Beth has a big mouth,” you said rubbing your forehead
”Heyy you need a drink, I'll go get one for you ” She winked and left before you can decline her suggestion
As Susie received your drink, she turned around (with her back facing you ) and dropped a small pill inside of it. When the pill dissolved she walked right toward you
”Here this will help you to let loose” Susie says as she hands you your drink
Your mind was screaming at you don't do it. But you just want to let go of all this hurt you were feeling.As you finished the drink, a rush of adrenaline took over your body in an instant.
After at least ten minutes, you were dancing on top of the bar table while the crowd cheers you on too. Your friends taking videos of you while hyping you up. That when you saw a man from across the room looking at you. The way he stared at you made you dance sexier. He began to smirk and lick his lips at you. Enjoying the effect you had on him, you got off the bar table.
”Girl what was that, you were killin it,” Lia said chapping her hands
” You said get loose so I'm doing exactly that. ” you said flipping your ponytail as you walk toward the mysterious man
As you walked toward him, he stands up from his seat. You got a good look at him, muscles trying their best out hold inside his button-up shirt, hair perfectly styled, and a smile that can light up the room.
”What's your name, handsome?” you asked
”B/W (your bias wrecker) ” he said with a smile
” mmm, you wanna dance,” you said stretch your arm out to him
He took it as you brought him to the center of the dance floor. You two began dancing for quite a while until the DJ started to play slow R&B aka sexual music. (B/W) held your waist and brought you closer to him. You felt everything as his body and your body closed the gap between you too. The feeling was addicting as you feel his lips shadow your neck and bulge on your thigh. You look up at him slowly to meet his eyes. Once both of your eyes met, all you saw was darkness and lust
As you open your eyes, you began stretching. But that's when you felt immediately nauseous, jumped out of bed, and sprinted to the bathroom. After throwing up for the fourth time. You tried reaching for the toilet paper where you usually put it but all you felt was a wall. That when your senses hit you, this wasn't your house.
As you look around your surroundings., you realized. This was a hotel! Maybe the girls and I crashed her because we were so drunk. So you washed up and left the bathroom. As you were walking toward the bedroom, you halt your action immediately. You looked on the floor and saw clothes. But not only yours, male clothes too. So many thoughts filled your head as it pounds. You finally reached the bed and saw him, (B/W) sleeping peacefully yet naked. That when you started to remember everything last night. You felt can not be described. Guilt layer 1 You quickly put on your clothes, grabbed your phone and bolted out of the building.
As you reached home you hopped into the shower. You began to break down letting all last night's mistakes and your latest fight with Chan flood the shower. You cheated on your husband replied over and over in your brain. As guilt flood the atmosphere. You felt extremely horrible but you knew you had to tell him. Guilt layer 2
As you got changed and decided to empty the trash, as you were organizing from the recyclables to the trash, you found a pregnancy box. That’s when you felt a cold chill rise. You forgot to check if you wore a condom, but you rushed out of the hotel room without asking the man. What you were about to do felt sick but you wanted to make sure
After waiting the exact time, you finally saw your results...you never wanted to jump out of a window so badly but you couldn’t since there was not another human inside you. You called up Maxine, telling her everything while balling your eyes out. Guilt layer part 3
” I'm a horrible wife, Maxine. I got so sad that I drank my feelings out because my husband said he doesn't know why he's with me. A-and I made an m-mistake and slept with (B/W) and now I'm giving pregnant. Pregnant from someone who isn't my husband! ” you cried out in pain while lying down in the floor
” y/n how did you even get this drunk in the first place?” Maxine asked
”Well Susie gave a drink, it tasted very fizzy for a drink. ” you said as you sniffed
”Oh my fucking gosh that bitch drugged you. I knew there was something wrong with her I just couldn't put my finger in it. One of my coworkers says they were there last night as saw her in the act but was too drunk to remember until this morning. I'm so sorry I should if stood by you” Maxine explain sadly
”So I'm a cheating worthless wife, who got pregnant over a one night stand because j was drugged by my co worker..” you say blankly analyzing how broken you felt. Your emotions are now numb, realizing everything was your fault. If you would have just said no all of these events would not have taken place. But the only person you can blame is yourself. Guilt layer 4
”y/n don't do anything stupid, we're coming over there right now,” Maxine says but you hung up the phone without giving her an answer
You got up from the floor and loom in the mirror. Your hair was a mess, your face, and a bit swelled from all the crying. You took a deep breath and try telling your self you will be ok. You grabbed the pregnancy test and walked out of the bathroom. Once you enter the living room, you halt your movements as your eyes couldn't believe what you were seeing.
Your one-night stand (B/W) standing with your purse that you probably left at the hotel in his hands while displaying shook expression. But that's not what you shocked about. It was because your husband was also standing in your shared living room with your favorite flowers in his hands looking at you with an expression you can't identify.
Both men are looking at you, while you looking at them thinking this was a dream. But somehow you were still missing something. Your eyes turned traveled to the living table where all you guys family photos we're placed. But there was one photo that stood out the most. It was a photo of your husband and (B/w) in a picture together, a high school picture together. Now all the puzzles pieces are now connected. B/w was chan childhood friend he has mentions you about but you never really met him until now well last night. As the final cherry on top, the guilt cake was completed of worse wife ever. It like Chan knew your realization, he heard everything you said from the bathroom since you were practically yelling and especially (B/W) too.
That when Chan began to speak
”I'm home”
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ineffectualdemon · 6 years ago
Text
I feel better today btw.
I'm booked in for blood tests on Monday and I've spoken to the rheumatology nurse who took down a record of how I'm not improving and worried my medication isn't quite right and she's going to send that to my Rheumatologist and hopefully I'll have an appointment soon.
But still yesterday I needed the good cry of anger about still being sick
I have to say there is a problem where if you have a chronic illness you might be prescribed counselling instead of actual treatment for your illness as if treating it as if it's anxiety and depression will cure it even when it clearly won't
But what's not acknowledged is that chronically ill people probably DO need therapy because being constantly sick is hard and emotionally draining and depressing.
Having what you thought would be your future stolen from you is hard.
The constant frustration of seeing things that need to be done and knowing you can't do it is hard
Struggling with things you used to find easy is hard
And a lot of the counselling for chronic illness is all CBT and that can be useful
Like in assessing what's going on with your body. Like is it a flare up or the flu? Or is it just my normal chronic pain or do I have an injury?
It's also useful for pacing and keeping track of your energy levels and triggers
What it doesn't address though in chronic illness targeted therapy is the anger and pain and guilt you feel about being sick
I only got some help when I saw my last therapist because I was seeing her for depression. She immediately understood that my chronic illness had a serious impact on my mood and helped me with it. Not with pacing or trying to be more active. But by giving myself permission to rest, to deal with the guilt, to learn to be kinder to myself.
It's down to her that I can step back and tell myself I'm not a bad person because I feel bad.
Because that was a big thing. My brain takes feeling bad physically as proof that I am secretly a bad person. And she was the first person to help me let go of that idea
And I had been to CBT therapy aimed at Fibro and CFS that never addressed the negative emotions my chronic illness caused. If they did at all they brushed it off as a side effect of not meditating or using mindfulness enough.
Again I find meditating and mindfulness helpful BUT that doesn't change that I have feelings of anger and sadness because my life is changed forever beyond my control.
What I needed was to give myself permission to feel that anger and then channel it. Or you give myself permission to rest and engage in self care.
I don't know. I just think becoming chronically ill is traumatic and that needs to be treated like trauma
Thinking about it that's exactly what my good therapist did. She treated it like my other trauma that I had endured and taught me how to be kind to that hurt part of myself.
And part of that was learning to allow myself a bit of time to just feel the sadness or anger or l guilt and cry or rant or whatever and then...pick yourself up and do the next thing you need to do
And sometimes you need to book doctors appointments or call people or whatever you hate to do but needs to be done
And sometimes you need to sleep or pamper yourself somehow
And both are ok
I'm mostly just rambling now
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planetdream · 3 years ago
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HELLO HELLO I FORGOT I SENT YOU AN ASK???? AND I WAS THE ONE ASKING IF IT GOT DELETED? VERY RUDE OF ME
okay no but yes I just got sick for another week 😭😭😭 life is not kind to me,,,,I JUST finished an essay and it's 6:19am rn and the sky is lighting up this is homophobic </3
I'm trying to get to terms to losing it but mannnnn I'm so pissed and upset because I had three kpop photo cards in it 😭 (along with other very important stuff ofc like my old student cards and I, obviously, alr graduated)
What can I say I'm just someone who loves the dark too much sksksksks jokes aside tho the dark is nice cos it makes me less guilty to be depressed - it's so weird to see it still light outside at 7pm rip
DREAMIE I WAS LOWKEY KIDDING BUT YOU ACTUALLY SAVED A SPOT FOR ME ALDHFJSJSHDJSKKDDK I LOVE YOU HELLO?? Okay but yes I will Sit Down and Think About It and come back to you with an MV uwu
Also Maniac omg,,,,Felix is such a queer king with that skirt and his HAIR as always a fashion icon. Hyunjin with red hair?? Chan with blue hair?? Changbin with green highlights?? Freaking LEE KNOW with purple hair?? These boys are here to slay and they aren't leaving anyone alive oh no. And Han with that slicked back hairstyle </3 I'm sorry Seungmin but Han is killing me there I can't skskkzsksksksks Also erm no hate but I didn't like the song at first? But it's so catchy?? Like does it sit at the top of my skz playlist? Not really. But is it so catchy that it makes me want to loop it so many times my brain explodes? Yes.
(also sorry if everything looks incoherent I've been writing a 2k essay for the past seven hours and I desperately need sleep)
Bestie SAME on the touch starved end 😭✋ and yes physical emotional connection desperately needed here as well pls 😭😭 I think my friend's constant complaints rubbed off on me because he's always like omg I want a boyfriend and there can only be one touch starved hoe between us so I have to be the bigger person ☠☠ but yes much love needed here as well
SCREAMING CRYING MOANING AT THE MENTAL IMAGE. just,,,,seungmo trying to not betray his feelings but ultimately man is a human as well and at the end he's not even scrolling through his phone,,,,the screen is black and it's just something to anchor himself onto </3 absolutely insane with that idea
Also that anon who said Lee Know <3. Massive vibes <33
How are you doing dreamie? Hope all is well hehe :)
-seong
ok first off—get some sleep (maybe u already are idk) can't have u out here sleep-deprived AND sick omg.
and the wallet 💔💔💔 three pcs and important things oh baby i really feel for u...tbh i dont think i'd be able to come to terms with losing it...
as for the collab—there's not a set deadline for posting the fic at the moment (and there probably won't be lol) so you can take your time choosing the fic, but that seungmin spot is 100% yours, babe!
maniac—the boys all look so good and im proud of what they've accomplished this era so far. i was talking about this with moon the other day but it's so fun to watch all of this happen in real time. like bb200?? so sexy of them, really. and yeah, at first listen i wasn't vibing with maniac like i did the other songs on the album (chalking it up to my general occasional dislike of singles) but after the second listen i liked it a lot more ahaha
— apologising for things seeming incoherent?? welcome to my entire blog fr
i've been going outside more and more lately since it's getting warmer and idk im just so...starved of different types of connections. i think i want a romantic connection lol, but that's a lot of work rn and i can't put someone through the stress of dealing with me atm rip
how am i doing? well it's pretty late now and i had a pretty busy day and im finally settling in at home fr and im just....so emotional for no reason?? wanna cry a little bit but other than that im doing good. upset bc i don't have any weed rn but it is what it is lol
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the-revisionist · 8 years ago
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Hi! Just to say, I LOVE your fics! Could you possibly write Things you said on New Year's Eve for Caroline and Gillian? If that's not a good one, then literally any of them will do I'm sure you'll write it perfectly! Thank you
Anon, hope you’re still reading
thank you for kind words and the prompt! Sorry this took longer than anticipated! 
This is a companion piece to “Completely Undressed and Mostly Sober in the South of France.”  @farminglesbian had suggested a continuation of that in some way and since she controls the Lesbian Empire on the European Continent in an Unspecified Rural Location Where They Are Inclined to Wear Lederhosen I must obey or I may never be allowed in Europe ever again.  
This story is a bit of an exercise in style. For dialogue I did not use traditional quote marks. So, you know, it might work, it might not, it’s OK and you can say so, I’m a big girl and I have a lot of wine at the ready, but please don’t be a twat about it. 
This one is post-series 4. 
faithful misrepresentations
i. it’s time to get the brioches
At 5 a.m. on New Year’s Eve, she apologizes for not shaving her legs.
The morning, blue and black with jagged frost etched across a darkened windowpane, rests at the edge of Caroline’s mind. It’s so terrifyingly early that she doesn’t really want to know the time but cracks open a reluctant eye anyway; the bedroom’s digital clock coolly burns a 5:05 on the inside of her eyelids, the blunt serifs morph into an SOS and she thinks, good God, I am awake at 5 in the morning, this is what I get for sleeping with a farmer. Because Gillian stirs warm and restless against her, driven by the undeniable rhythm of blood that always has her racing against the sunrise and who, because she is apparently the master of not only the unwanted spontaneous confession but also the truly baffling nonsequitur, opts not to say good morning but rather randomly and needlessly apologizes for not shaving her legs before this, their trip to France.
Blind as a kitten, Caroline reaches for her and, half-asleep through a tangle of warm limbs, hones in on her calf; the soft hair tickles, the solid muscle undulates, the raspy glory of skin warms Caroline’s palm. There is a scar on this calf, invisible in the dark but vivid in her mind as a distinct but delicate comet tracing a pale horizon. It was, Gillian told her, caused by a jutting, broken spoke on a wheelbarrow.
That’s when I learned not to do farm work while wearing shorts, she had said.  
Caroline replies to the apology by mumbling don’t mind into a pillow; sleepiness translates it into dun mime. She’s cresting the wave back into sleep when she realizes that Gillian is not moving, not rising out of bed with a stretch and a groan and a curse word. Which is odd, because Gillian likes routine. Every morning they’ve been here she’s up before the sun, making herself tea, reading for a bit, and then walking a mile to the village to fetch brioches from a baker amusedly tolerant of an Englishwoman who flirts with her grown son and insists on conversing in rusty French. By the time she returns the brioches are stone cold but she revives them in the oven, makes coffee, and wakes up Caroline by cannonballing onto the bed like a kid on holiday. Winter clings to her skin and clothes but her morning kiss is persistent and sweet and like waking into a warm, summery daydream and not a chilly old French farmhouse lacking proper heat.
She forces herself into a higher level of coherence, clears her throat, firms up a question: You’re not getting up?
Not yet, comes the reply.  
In the dark she aims badly for Gillian’s forehead and gently smashes her palm against a nose.
Are you sick?
No. It’s just—we don’t have much time left. Here, I mean. Want to enjoy it.
They return home the day after tomorrow.
By staying in bed as long as possible, Gillian adds as needless clarification.
Under two blankets and a comforter movement is heavy and surreal, a sluggishly sensual underwater ballet. The blankets move as Gillian slides on top of her, exposing Caroline’s shoulder to a rousing chill, which is briefly warmed by Gillian’s mouth before moving along the inlet of the collarbone toward her breast. She spreads her legs, Gillian settles in between them and presses into her, and even though it’s all so new between them—so wonderfully new, she thinks, as Gillian traces the inside of her thigh—she identifies the variance in tempos and moods better now and knows this time will be slow and sweet and hopefully she won’t bang her skull against the quasi-antique headboard again.
You’re giving up brioches for me?
Nah. I’ll get ’em later. Just delaying gratification, as it were.
So—how delayed is gratification when all you’re doing is merely sublimating it with another pleasure?
Even though they can barely see one another in the porous dark, a bluish outline of morning light traces the contours of Gillian’s face and hair and Caroline can see a hitch of expression, a shift of lines as she smiles.
Shut up, you, she says.
ii. continental beauty
For one horrible aching moment—while wiping down a quartz countertop aged to such an extent that it looks as if it’s survived a hundred years of everyday bacchanals, and this is why housework is dangerous and housewives go mad, she thinks, it sets the mind loose to dwell on so much of life’s chaotic cruelty—Caroline realizes that she never had this opportunity with Kate, that is, a long romantic getaway and not just a mucky weekend at a nearby hotel. Even on that modest level she fucked it up nearly beyond repair. Even on vacation with her husband of eighteen years always she felt—she knew—she was a fraud, nothing but a character in one of his novels. Maybe it’s a sign; maybe it means something. Here in this farmhouse in the Rhone Valley hundreds of miles away from home, she waits for the shoe to fall into a dreaded Grand Canyon of unspecified anxiety.
They spent months not talking about what they needed to talk about. It was easy enough to blame a host of things for this: demanding work schedules involving obstreperous students and sheep, parenting thickheaded boys, coparenting a toddler with a knobhead whose taste in women was obviously on the decline, a bountiful supply of excellent wine from a beautiful young woman who simply would not go away, and complete, sheer cowardice. Acceptance of the status quo has always come easily to Caroline, particularly in this instance because she was getting good wine and properly laid on a regular basis—thus her mother’s interrogations and condemnations, her secretary’s prurient questions (“You have it off with Brokeback Shepherd yet?”), and generally everyone’s bewilderment and clumsy emotional tap-dancing around the subject were all easily ignored.
Then last month, during one of those boisterous family dinners where, as was not uncommon, Gillian looked at her in an indescribably aching way—followed by a self-chastising frown, slight shake of the head, and a protective hunch of her shoulders that seemingly closed off any possibility of rapprochement—Gary announced to all present that renovations to his vacation home in France were finally complete. During this interminable period he had gone from referring to the house as a chateau to deeming it a money pit. It was actually an eighteenth-century stone farmhouse, its interior now as rustically authentic as one envisioned by a nouveau riche entrepreneur from Yorkshire, and Caroline twitchingly recalled Gillian’s proposal earlier in the spring—that they would go there for a few days during the summer and work shit out. But summer ripened and withered away and the promise, representing everything that was seemingly lost between them, lingered bitterly.
After dinner Caroline stood in the doorway of Gillian’s kitchen observing their motley, contented family—Raff playing Legos with Calamity and Flora, Lawrence attempting to show his grandfather and Gary how to play Halo Wars 2 on an Xbox, and Celia, post-two glasses of wine, going on about the life of the theater to the clearly bored yet admirably patient Ellie. She felt Gillian’s presence at her side—churning and restless as a spoon stirring a pot, staring at her feet, then a lamp, then her son, and finally fixing that burning gaze of hers on the woman next to her while the back of her hand glided over Caroline’s knuckles, thus causing the latter to force out a surprising hybrid of a squeak and a gasp.
Let’s—let’s do it, she said. Come with me to France.
Five minutes later they were purchasing plane tickets on the mobile.
Five days into this trip she has learned many things about Gillian: she slavishly embraces routine whenever possible, she likes brioches, she’s reading Middlemarch for the third time now but Caroline cannot imagine why because she herself has never made it past page 50, she’s capable of lingering over a cup of tea and not gulping it down because she’s not running late or has a hundred things to do in a day, she thinks MI6 was involved in Princess Diana’s death, she’s takes no firm side in the great over vs. under toilet roll debate—don’t people have anything better to do than argue about toilet paper? she had said—
—and she is an admirer of great beauty because now she barrels through the door after tromping around the countryside for an hour and breathlessly announces, I’m in love.
Caroline imagines herself unseeded by either the baker’s handsome son or the buxom young woman who works the vineyard nearby, the latter spotted the other day during a wine-tasting tour and whose sumptuous cleavage was the focus of surreptitious glances from Gillian. After half a lifetime of stealthily admiring the physical beauty of women, Caroline knows these covert maneuvers when she sees them. Alas, all she has to counter these continental beauties are certain oral skills and her talent for making a certain orange-ginger biscuit that Gillian loves and who knows, perhaps that will save the day, perhaps even as sun perpetually sets on the English empire all that truly matters is cunnilingus, tea, and biscuits.
I’m confident of your ability to attract, she wants to tell Gillian. But not my ability to hold you.
But while hanging up her coat Gillian starts rambling about a ram, a sheep with a fancy French name. She saw him posing on a hillside, broodingly apart from the herd, a Heathcliff among sheep. His markings and coloring exquisite, his horns symmetrical, his poise exceptional—
Before Gillian can declare herself high priestess of this mythic creature’s cult, Caroline—dimly aware of the unseemliness of jealousy over a sheep—interrupts rudely: What’s it called again? A rum-ball merino?
Gillian rolls her eyes. Rambouillet, she says. She grabs a cup for tea. A Rambouillet merino.
Ripe for plucking, the word hangs in the air and Caroline ravenously seeks its source in a kiss. She holds Gillian’s lower lip gently between her teeth, tongue running the plush length of it, tasting salt and mystery because, frankly, women have always been unfathomable to her.  Sweetly, wonderfully unfathomable. She starts to unbutton Gillian’s thick, lined plaid shirt—only to discover, underneath, a second plaid shirt thin and soft with age. At which she breaks off the kiss and bursts into laughter.
Jesus Christ, you’re like a flannel onion. Layers and layers.
It’s cold, in case you haven’t noticed, Gillian says—also laughing—as she sits the empty cup on the counter.
I’m trying to warm you up, Caroline replies as she sets in on the second flannel layer. In case you haven’t noticed.
Tossing her arms around Caroline’s neck and pulling her into another kiss, another embrace, Gillian says, I’ve noticed.
She doesn’t feel too distressed about fucking Gary’s sister on Gary’s distressed leather couch—burnished leather, she thinks he called it and the color was Churchill cigar—because there is an old blanket on it and as they fall onto it she doesn’t care about much at the moment except the wonderments and sensations of skin and taste, wondering if Gillian has ever called anyone else baby, Caroline can’t quite imagine that she has and would like to reserve that titular honor as her very own, wondering when the last time someone went down on her properly because her reaction and sheer enjoyment of it make Caroline feel like Aphrodite incarnate coming down from on high and she has to cling to Gillian as if she’s riding a rollercoaster by the skin of her teeth.
Afterward she’s sprawled on the couch wrapped in the comforter Gillian dragged out the bedroom, staring at the crisscross of the ceiling’s dark wood roof beams and with her head pillowed on Gillian’s bare thigh. With one flannel shirt back on, Gillian sits cross-legged while drinking one of Gary’s very pricey local Syrahs and pretending to read Middlemarch, pretending because she’s humming, which she usually does while absorbed in the comforting repetition of a task like washing dishes or mending a shirt or soothing a baby and in this instance the task at hand seems to be slowly, rhythmically running her fingers through Caroline’s hair. I like your—your hair, she had said the other day, shy and stammering and nervous after they made love, as if the gentle offering of a compliment would somehow be virulently rejected, and while Caroline loved the sweet awkwardness of it she hated the man who made Gillian terrified of revealing the slightest vulnerability.
She stares at the shadowed, foreboding ceiling beams, thinks that Gary should have picked a wood of a lighter color because the dark beams make her think of crucifixions.
Say it again, she says to Gillian.
What?
The name of the sheep.
Rambouillet.
Oh, she sighs, that’s lovely.
Unexpectedly Gillian drags her finger, damp and dribbling Syrah, across Caroline’s lips, as if soothing an infant with a taste of milk. You’re really weird, she says.
I’m not the one in love with a sheep, Caroline replies.
iii. the search for intelligent ovine life in the Rhone Valley
The afternoon winter sun, useless and pale, emanates as much heat as the moon. They are out in search of the great Rambouillet merino. Gillian insists she needs to get a better photo of the sheep so she can submit it to something called “Google sheep view” and Caroline, who is perfectly fine with not knowing what the hell that is, is nonetheless curious to know what the fuss is about and accompanies her. Leading the mission, Gillian stalks the dirt backroad that runs behind Gary’s farmhouse with her usual dogged, determined pace. She’s been in a bit of a mood since lunchtime and Caroline knows enough to let her be until she’s ready to talk; it’s likely, though, that she dreads the thought of returning home to the questions, the judgments, the expectations that will be laid at their feet.
She trails behind. Outside of the Yorkshire countryside she has navigated most of her life, her sense of direction is rubbish and she hasn’t a clue where they really are. She sighs and burrows deeper into her scarf. It’s the coldest day of the trip thus far. The stiff, expensive boots she purchased for the trip are pinching her toes and the too-high arches dig into her soles. In the distance she sees the vineyard that they visited days ago, the spherical red caps of the buildings distinct against the pale sky, and has a wince-inducing guilty thought about Olga.
Shortly after committing to this journey, she officially ended it with Olga. It was not so much a breakup as an act of disengagement; some days she actually convinces herself of this. Regardless it required some semblance of fortitude to finally override the guilt-ridden, passive-aggressive lust that propelled the relationship on her part. Olga took it well. She also took a case of an amazing Chenin Blanc from the Loire Valley that she had initially gifted to Caroline and now presumably would bestow upon another boozy, middle-aged lesbian—or, more likely, her ex—both nonetheless worthy of her considerable charm and refined palate, while leaving Caroline to the tender mercies of a sheep farmer overfond of cheap Lambrusco.
She stops for a moment to look at red roofs jutting into milk-white clouds and dwell in the newness of everything—place and memory, time and love—while accepting the sense of loss that perpetually nips at her heels. Snow flurries waltz to the ground.
Then she notices that up ahead on the road Gillian has stopped and turned around. Head tilted, she critically eyes Caroline as she would a lagging, miscreant ewe—as if to say, come along now.
Grimacing, Caroline takes long strides to catch up. She apologizes on arrival, insincerity muffled through the cashmere scarf.
Gillian carries a long, sturdy branch found earlier on the road. Alternately she’s been using it as a walking stick and brandishing it as a weapon, whacking at husked, brittle weeds lining the road, sadistically poking at stones. Idly she whips it around her body while frowning at Caroline.
What were ya doing back there? she asks.
Contemplating life’s mysteries. Appreciating the sublimity of nature. Oh, and staring at your ass. Not necessarily in that order.
Bashful at the compliment, Gillian lowers her head and grins. Then, wryly: So you weren’t stopping ’cause those boots are hurting you?
Not a bit, Caroline lies.
You’re limping, she says, and then nods in the direction of the winery. D’ya think they send out Saint Bernards with little wine flasks to rescue snotty English bitches who don’t wear proper footwear whilst they wander about the countryside?
That would be marvelous.
Gillian points up ahead at a copse of trees. The gesture is so startling and beautiful and confident that Caroline wants to seize her hand—ungloved, snowflake caught and melting on her thumbnail—and kiss it.
Right up there, she says, past those trees, is a shortcut through the wood to the vineyard. If you can make it, we could walk there. Couple glasses might revive you for the walk home.
And if it doesn’t?
Reckon I’ll have to drag you back somehow.
Cavewoman.
Nah. I’m not that strong, Gillian says with a roll of her shoulders, but I’ll give it a go.
Au contraire.
That’s the first bit of French out of your mouth since we got here.
You’ve been doing well enough for both of us, Caroline says, so why bother? She leans into Gillian, quietly pleased at the arm that automatically wraps around her waist. Then she presses her face into the crown of Gillian’s hair, kisses it, and says, I’ve always believed—she begins shakily, pauses clumsily—always known—you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.
Gillian pulls back and stares at her, unsure if what she’s saying is an obvious revelation or a faithful misrepresentation of the brutal facts that comprise her life. She thinks that Gillian usually skews toward the latter as a default viewpoint, and realizes it may take a lifetime for her to sort it, to undo it. If ever. What surprises Caroline is not this but the belief, settling into her bones and countering her own misguided self-assessments, that she is finally brave enough to be fully present in Gillian’s life.  
On the walk home, both of them tipsy and tired, they see the Rambouillet merino ambling across an open field into the setting sun. And he is beautiful.
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for-the-love-ofscience · 7 years ago
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Tony pulled away from Loki, his expression hurt. "Home? You are- Yeah. I- ok. You're mad at me again. I cant do anything right. It's ok, um. Steve too? Of course. No worries, I'll be fine. I've got it under control now."
Loki sighed and shook his head. "It is my presence that gives them blisters. I think it best if I leave you to their care for now."
"But, Loki!" Tony whined, absolutely hating the sounds he was making. He couldnt make a choice. It was all so damn confusing.
"I'll always be here, Anthony. But you need to sort things out with them first." He fixed Bucky and Steve with a look. "And if you understand matters you'll make the mature choice. I will be defending him if I need to."
Steve scoffed, having to physically hold himself back, and probably Bucky too. "I think Tony can handle himself, actually."
"Indeed he can. Get some rest." Loki kissed Tony's cheek, then disappeared.
As soon as he was gone, Tony collapsed on the couch. He was shaking, huddled up, unable to say why he was so emotional. "I'm ok. It's ok. Just need to... think it over. Sleep on it. I'll be fine." He felt like he was going to be sick again. He really needed to calm down.
One in Three
@uncannyoddities
Tony stared at the stick in his hand, trying not to panic. Too late. He was panicking. It was going to be bad. It was already difficult to breathe. Tony splashed water on his face then stumbled out to the bedroom, the stick still clenched in his hand. He sat on the bed and stared at it, trying to work moisture into his throat. Shit. Shit shit shit.
Someone started knocking on the door, and Tony called out, his voice shaky and weak. “Not exactly a great time! Um. I’m naked!”
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